#Best Heating Pad for Neck Shoulders & Back

[tojisun]

the lights are on

!! simon riley x afab reader; chubby reader; confidence and body issues; past bullying (not by simon and briefly mentioned); smut - minors dni // divider by @/plutism!

i projected too much of myself onto the reader so do forgive me for that. this is a milestone celebration for me, mostly, but also for you all so i hope you all would like it too <3

this is inspired by rachel wiley’s “10 honest thoughts on being loved by a skinny boy” - a slam poetry

you are told that love comes easily — that it is the budding of spring, shimmering and vibrant, and blooming oh-so tenderly. unfurling oh-so carefully, like you are melting into padded sheets and cashmere sweaters.

you are told that love comes easily — that it stands out amongst a vast ocean. that it is distinguishable; a beacon so familiar you run towards it, unafraid and unashamed. like fate or destiny; like fairytales being remade.

you are told that love comes easily, but you know they mean to people who don’t look like you; only for the girls with slim arms and robust legs, with dips in their waists and hour-glass figures, with bones pressing against their skins like carved mountains.

love comes easily to thin girls. to the girls whose loud laughter are heard as wind chimes, whose jolly isn’t sneered at or embarrassing to see, whose confidence is just is — that it isn’t an act of empowerment or a statement or a message.

so you slink back into your shadows with little laughs and curled shoulders, like maybe if you diminished your presence enough, you would be seen physically small too. petite is a word no one has used for you but how else can anyone explain the way you trim yourself into bite-sized pieces?

you aren’t the first to be chosen; not the one people fight over. when you walk into a room, the best that could happen was that no one would notice you. that you would blend into the shadows or the walls, quiet and peaceful. painfully lonely, yes, but peaceful, nevertheless.

(you still have nightmares of high school.

of boys using you for their dares, like the only thing good about you was to be the butt of the joke; like asking you out was a comedic show.

of girls and—

sometimes, they’re meaner than the boys with all their lilac and softness; you thought that at least they were a kindred soul, but so many times, during lunch, you were cornered into tears until you became full from nothing but your anguish.)

when simon first walked into your life, you knew it — whatever ‘it’ could be — was impossible.

you had already ended the tragedy before something could even begin. you saw his beauty — in a way that you cannot explain; in a way that is rugged and scarred and terrifying, almost, but beautiful, still — and knew there was no way he would fall for you, anyway.

but simon was… persistent. charming you in a way that was painfully absent of all suave but he was still so charismatic, he always left your stomach in knots. hope bloomed in your chest and you realized that maybe it needn’t be a tragedy; that it mustn’t be a joke nor a dare; that you must be—

loved.

that you are loved — just that. just as is.

.

.

simon watches as you lay down on the bed, your cheeks tingling with heat as embarrassment rises from the base of your neck, dancing past your shoulders and devouring up until even the tip of your nose thrums with feverish touch. you look away from him, feeling so shy at the intensity in his eyes. he looks at you like he is ravenous for you; like you are the only nourishment he needs, and that you have made him hungry, his gums aching with the need to sink his teeth into the soft parts of your body.

you have never been looked at like this before, and it is intoxicating. it makes you heady, breathless, lips parted open as you gasp for air—

rustling fills your ears and you perk up, getting ready to snap your bra off, only to find simon naked, bare, his cock chubbing up from underneath his bush, and you have never loved a body until his. lust coils in the tendrils of your heart, stretching into the yawning that burrows in the pit of your stomach to capture you whole.

you want him.

god, do you want him.

he falls to his knees, stalking close to where you are splayed on the bed like the offering you are that he says he will never deserve, but you stop him with a hand up and a quiet breath, and, “the lights.”

your voice trembles. shame slowly snuffs out the greed.

“can you turn them off, please?” you ask because it is a courtesy you were taught to—

‘can you bathe me in darkness so that the two of us can pretend that i am not undesirable and that your love is not a fluke?’

‘can you hide me from your eyes so your mind does not give you reason to pull away?’

‘can you reduce me into a body to fuck into, so that our pretend-love story does not end?’

your question makes simon still, his heady eyes lightening up again. recognition slips into his consciousness and he rouses up — you tell yourself that the caving in your chest isn’t a heartbreak — to reach forward.

to reach for—

you.

simon’s scarred palm falls to your stomach, planting atop the sea of stretch marks. his thumb traces their ridges, so soft and slow and intimate, and your eyes burn because why is he so cruel?

why must he touch you like you are something to revere? like you are something priceless and that he is undeserving of you? like you are, all parts, beautiful?

“won’t you let me love you like this?” is what he says instead, and he moves, desperate to meet your eyes. “can we do it with the lights on, from now on?”

all the air in your lungs is knocked out of you.

his words were quiet but they resonated so loudly, almost booming and deafening. the world doesn’t freeze nor does time slow, but there is something in that moment that makes you feel like you are at the throes of something divine. like you are finally sewn together.

you do not sob but you are so close to doing so. instead, you pull him close, trembling, and give him a kiss. he melts into it, his hands mapping the softness of your body, digging into the fat and never letting go.

he devours you like this — hot lips against your own. spit is shared, moans fall in between the tiny cracks whenever you pull away to breathe only for simon to push close again, never letting you stray alone any longer, and clingy as he fits you into him.

the first drag of his fingers into your cunt makes you gasp, your head falling back to the pillows as a mewl drips from your mouth. he pulls away, huffing, and positions himself so he can watch you. you keep your head tipped up, still so embarrassed by being exposed this way, but simon curls his fingers just right, and he strokes against something that punches a gasp out of you.

“shit—”

“like this, sweetheart?” simon croons, nuzzling his face on your rib, his cheek bumping against your boob. he pulls his fingers out, dragging with him muffled squelching noises that tickle your ears, before fucking his fingers in you again.

you whine, a drawn hiccupped sound, and claw at the sheets at the pace he adopts. it is fast, overwhelming, but still not enough. it seems like he’s spoiled you rotten, and left you needy for nothing but his cock.

“fuck me,” you whimper, arms looped around his wrists. you feel so weak from the pleasure, wrung out of orgasms with his fingers in your cunt and his palm against your clit. you flick your eyes up, meeting his gaze. “si, please?”

he lets out a snarl, his softness and need peaking into something dangerous. you find that you are not scared, instead, you are besotted — inviting him in by spreading your legs wider, showing him how wet your pussy is and that it is ready for his taking.

your face crumples at the slow slide, his cock fucking you raw like this is the first time again. like you two have more to explore, more to uncover, and you keen at the intensity of it all.

missionary has never felt this good before; simon thrusts his hips, humping the remaining inches in, and you scream — your hips snapping up, and your throat burning with the ache. simon holds you by your waist, his fingers dimpling your flesh, and fucks you with gusto.

he chases his orgasm as he melts into you. he is louder today, and more guttural with his desires. he snarls his praises, the words curling from the backs of his teeth until they drip on you like hot wax — scalding, overwhelming, and leaving you to feel all tender and raw.

“si!” you cry out, reaching forward to play with your clit. “m’close, baby. m’close!”

“yeah?” he rasps out, his balls slapping against your ass. you go dizzy, eyes rolling to the back of your skull as goosebumps rise across the expanse of your body. “do i make my baby feel good? tell me, sweetheart, go on. tell me, huh?”

he is rambling, untethered, himself, as he loses in his own swelling euphoria.

you sob, toes digging into the mattress because you are unable to properly vocalize the pleasure, your mind all razed by the way he fucks you, but your baby is asking you to do so, so you tell him, “s’good. baby, s’good! i feel so full an’ only you can fuck me good an’— an’ si, i’m gonna— i’m gonna—”

your orgasm hits you like a fever breaking; like you are feeling a sense of release that has never been felt before. you feel like you are suspended, floating, your skin buzzing with lightning. you don’t even know you are screaming, deaf to anything but the explosion of ecstatic pleasure.

your teeth rattle at the first spurt of simon’s cum, and he presses uncoordinated kisses on your lips. it makes you giggle, all sluggish now that exhaustion is weaving in, and it is then that you meet simon’s eyes.

they are so clear and vibrant, the way they only ever are under light. they crinkle in his smile, and you puff, snuggling close, feeling like you can drop to sleep with his cock still in you.

“love you si,” you murmur, your words sticking together in your drowsiness.

he presses a kiss on your temple and breathes you in. then, “i love you too, sweetheart.”

and the lights are still on.

thank you once again for the 15k, and i hope you have loved this the way i loved writing it <33

i was struck with the poetry, and the way wiley described the way she is loved. she started her performance with the lines: “i say, ‘i am fat.’ he says, ‘no, you are beautiful.’ i wonder why i cannot be both.” and i have never related to anything more. wiley then talks about how their relationship unfurls, and in ‘6’ (it is a list poetry), she says, “he tells me he loves me with the lights on,” and i sobbed.

so i wrote a fic of me, and i hope thats alright.

[reidsdimples]

Feverish

Spencer Reid x Reader

18+ ❤️‍🔥

Spencer can’t keep his hands off of you in his fever induced delirium.

Inspired by a scene from The Tearsmith (on Netflix)

“What happened?” You ask Morgan who’s got Spencer’s arm draped over his shoulder.

Spencer is out of it, delirious, coated in sweat. Yet he grins at you.

“Popped for the flu, probably from those kids earlier this week,” Morgan answers as he puts Spencer in the passenger seat of your car.

“I knew the flu shot was a waste of time,” Spencer muses. “It’s an educated guess at best as for what strain will circulate through the population,” he scoffs and shoves on sunglasses.

“Wonderful,” you groan.

“You’ve already been sick this season, you’re probably fine,” Spencer mumbles and lulls his head back in the seat.

“I think that’s why he said to call you,” Morgan smiles.

“Well, it’s great to see you again. Stay safe,” Morgan hugs you by way of farewell.

Taking care of your sick ex boyfriend on your long anticipated three day weekend was not high on your bucket list. But here you were.

You drop into the car next to him and he’s already fast asleep. Feeling his forehead, you confirm that he’s burning up.

You and Spencer had ended things amicably four weeks ago. Your crazy schedule as a labor and delivery nurse didn’t mesh well with his chaotic FBI job. It didn’t mean you didn’t care for him. Perhaps that made seeing him so sick that much harder.

“Come on,” you help him from the car and into your house.

He stumbles up the front steps but you’re able to hold him up.

“Sorry, dizzy,” he murmurs.

“It’s okay,” you place your hand at the center of his chest, pushing yourself under his arm further to support his tall frame. The heat coming off of him could almost burn you.

You had never been more grateful that you opted for a one floor house. You imagined getting him up a flight of stairs would be impossible.

“Here,” you sit him on the edge of your king sized bed but he just flops onto his side, tucking his face into your pillow. He breaths in deeply, you can hear how congested he is.

You hurry to your medicine cabinet to get him a concoction of fever reducers.

“Take this,” you sit him up.

He barely opens his eyes, just groggily obeys and trusts the pills you’re giving him. He knows you’d never do anything to hurt him.

You wipe the water from his lips gently. He purses his mouth as though to kiss the pad of your thumb longingly.

You slowly undo the buttons of his shirt, you needed to cool him down. He’s drenched in sweat.

“Sit up,” you pull him up with a hand on the back of his neck and push the shirt off of his shoulders. Your eyes trace his body longingly, but only for a moment.

You gently lay him back down and start undoing his converse so he can get more comfortable. He groans at the movements as you tug the shoes off and discard them, adoring his mismatched socks.

You brush his hair from his forehead and prompt him to open his eyes. He does but they’re heavy with fatigue.

“You’re going to be fine Spence, just tell me if you need anything,” you whisper.

You gently caress his cheek, his eyes fluttering closed. You relax your hand in the center of his bare chest, unable to help how drawn to him you are. You missed him. His lean body with the thin sheen of sweat had your heart fluttering. Touching him was too much, too overwhelming. You sigh and stand from the bed.

His arm wraps around your waist and he tugs you weakly back into the bed. You fall half onto him and half next to him.

“Don’t go,” he murmurs and buries his face in your stomach like you’re all he’ll ever need. You run your hands through his long hair and hold him close to comfort him. It doesn’t even bother you that his hair is damp, you just want to help him.

He pulls you more onto him and twists his hands into your shirt. You’re nearly straddling him now, leaning over him as he groans and begs for you to be closer.

“Spence,” you warn.

He nudges his face into your abdomen, between your breasts. He’s so out of it you doubt he’s even aware of his actions. His mouth clamps over your nipple which is hardening through your shirt. This is so wrong, but it feels so fucking good.

Your body reacts to him, your hips grinding down against his. You can’t help it.

Your tank top rides up and his mouth trails sloppily against your now exposed skin, causing you to suck air through your teeth harshly. He’s kind of kissing you, but more seemingly needing to touch you with his mouth. He leaves moist trails of kisses against your stomach. He grapples at your body, he’s needy, he’s panting. He’s whimpering against you.

He’s burning up.

“Shhh, Spence,” you sink down next to him and nestle into the crook of his arm.

You push away your arousal. That was not happening right now.

Besides, clear headed Spencer wouldn’t touch you that way after breaking up.

“Need you,” he moans.

“Not right now baby,” the nickname slips out. It was habit.

His buries his face in the crook of your neck, he’s breathing hard as his hand trails down your body. He digs his nails into the soft skin on your hips and squeezes lovingly. His fingertips move down the plane of your stomach and graze just under the edge of your waistband but he goes no further. You take in the sight of his large hand on your body again, those fingers, the way the muscles and veins move as he does. Your traitorous pussy clenches around absolutely nothing. Ugh.

He begins to kiss the soft spot of your neck and you can’t help but to tilt your head to give him better access. His hand moves up to squeeze your breast, pulling a moan from you. God you needed him so bad. But he was so sick. His desperation for you was driving you mad.

You hear him shudder as a chill washes over him. But he ignores it, moving so his laying on you, kissing your nipples through the thin fabric of your shirt. His eyes are still closed, heavy with sickness. But he slides his strong arms under you to hold you even closer to him as he continues to kiss and sucking at your neck. He nudges your tank top down and pulls your nipple into his mouth, sucking hard.

“Ah, Spencer. Baby,” you writhe beneath him, but he’s got you pinned.

He kisses you until he can’t anymore, until his grip on you grows weaker and his mouth lingers on you longer.

He grows tired and rests his head on your chest. He keeps you beneath him, most of his body weight laying between your legs. His head rests on your stomach as he starts to doze off. His warm breath fans against your skin.

You push your hand into his hair to keep him right where he is. He’s absorbing your body heat, his breathing beginning to slow.

A content sigh escapes his chest and he finally falls asleep.

You can still feel the ghosts of his hands and lips, messy and needy on your body. It’s like he was devouring you, like you were the only thing that could save him. He was absolutely out of his mind, acting on instinct and primal need despite being sick. It’s like he couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop himself from touching you.

[best-aromatherapy-heat-wraps]

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[qwimblenorrisstan]

Insufficient | Azriel x Reader

Summary: After a few months of dating, your relationship begins to crack, and the truth behind Azriel’s odd behavior comes out.

Word Count: ~ 1.8k

Warnings: ANGST, so much angst, sort of unrequited feelings, breakup, mentions of sex + torture and murder, Nesta being an absolute queen

A/N: enjoy some delicious azzy angst😋 lmk what you think I should do for the next part, like should they get back together, or reader finds a new mans while az grovels??

Requests are open!

Masterlist | Next

It had been a warm, sunny day when you’d first met him.

The bakery had been going steadily as ever in Velaris, your family-owned shop hard at work to make the citizen's pastries and your famous sourdough bread. Generations of the family had owned it beforehand, and you were still helping out, you had been working the front that day.

Azriel had walked in, asking for some sort of treat that his High Lady was craving. His description of it hadn’t been the best, leading to almost thirty minutes of you showing him different sweet treats and pastries until he finally found what he wanted, and ordered a dozen of them.

That had been the beginning of your situationship, where he’d come to the shop asking for various things once every now and then, only to subtly get closer to you and even slightly flirt.

Eventually, he asked you out to dinner, and after a few more, you two began dating, and he admitted that he felt a little spark when he first saw you. Looking back, you wondered if that was the only reason he even pursued you in the first place, not for your personality, or even your looks, but just because of that spark.

The first few weeks had been lovely, him being thoughtful and caring to you in the little acts. Such as the way he made coffee for you just how you liked it in the mornings, how he began to put things lower on shelves so you could reach them, how he would talk quietly when you had migraines, or be patient when you were in a mood. The best example probably being the first time you had your period in front of him.

He hadn’t acted disgusted by it, instead, he’d gently cared for you, helping you through it, buying you chocolate and all the foods and snacks you were craving, getting heating pads, making sure you were alright for the entire insufferable week.

However, after that, the honeymoon period must’ve worn off, because he seemed constantly tense or stressed after that. His face remained like stone, not budging or cracking, even for you. The softening of his eyes that had happened before it was replaced by something strained as if he was waiting impatiently for something.

Even in bed, he wouldn’t look at you, remained quiet as a mouse, the only sign that he was enjoying himself being a large exhale as he buried his face in your neck or turned away. That was another problem, he knew how to fuck, he knew how to do that very well, but he didn’t know how to make love. Any time you tried to teach him, he just didn’t accept it, simply giving an unsatisfactory hum in response and continuing what he was doing.

He’d come home from missions, drenched in sweat and sometimes even blood, and not say anything even when you cleaned him off and led him to bed, giving you a cold shoulder. You fully understood that he had a bloody past and history, but you at least expected him to open up a little bit to you. Without any emotional transparency, it wasn’t really a relationship, was it?

His family was nice, though. You liked them, especially Nesta, since she seemed not to put up with everyone else’s bullshit. She was the only one you opened up to about your issues with Azriel, and how you were thinking of breaking things off or taking a break.

“He’s a hard one, but it sounds like he’s being an ass. If it were me, I wouldn’t put up with that.”

She said while you both sat in the library, neither of you noticing the small shadows lurking near the books. You sighed, nodding slowly.

“I know, it’s just…I feel like he’s waiting for something else, like just me isn’t enough.”

You said with a frown, and Nesta gave a little hum of acknowledgment.

“Just give it a week or two, and if you’re still unhappy, I’d leave.”

She said with a shrug, and not long after the both of you went your separate ways. You followed Nesta’s advice, giving the relationship a week or two, and it remained stressed and tense. However, when you finally managed to get into Azriel’s office during the day, about to break things off, he spoke first.

“Let me guess, your testing weeks weren’t satisfactory?”

He asked in a sharp tone, eyes narrowed on you with a piercing gaze. You took a sharp breath in, glaring at him despite the embarrassment that tried to take over.

“You were spying on me.”

You said, trying to keep your tone even despite how it wavered slightly. He stood then, towering over you from his superior height.

“I don’t like when people talk about me behind my back, let alone my partner.”

He said, the words clipped and full of anger simmering under the surface. He took a step closer, and you took a step back. You’d never been afraid of him, not really, but at this moment you didn’t exactly want to be close to him. His keen eyes noticed, and something like hurt and anger flashed in them.

“Don’t act like I’m some terrible person for having a girl talk because you’ve been acting weird. I can’t believe you spied on me.”

He huffed, taking another step closer, the shadows swirling and writhing, looking more agitated than ever. You took another step back, only to run straight into a wall that was now behind you. He continued stalking closer until your heart was beating faster and faster until he leaned down so you were eye-to-eye.

“I’m sorry I’m not what you signed up for. I’m not gentle or loving, I am a spymaster, I torture and kill people for my work, and have for centuries. I won’t be forced to change just to fit what you think I should be, or what you want in a relationship.”

He hissed, his words now full of anger and frustration. You leaned back, trying to keep away.

“That’s your problem. You don’t know how to separate your work life from your personal life, and you’re taking it out on me. You can be gentle and loving, I’ve seen it before, but I’m not what you want. You’ve been acting like I need to be something more for you when I’m not. I don’t know what you want, but your inability to communicate and be transparent isn’t my problem.”

You said back, tears now welling up as you tried to push him away. He didn’t back up, only moving closer and pushing you into the wall. His temper was building, and you could tell. It was only a matter of time until he would….

“A mate! I wanted a mate!”

Snap.

The silence stretched on and on for what seemed like hours after he said that, yelling it in your face. You’d never heard him raise his voice before. You gaped at the sight of him unwinding and shattering right in front of you as he rambled on.

“It’s not fair, Rhys gets Feyre, Cassian gets Nesta, Lucien gets Elain even if she doesn’t want him, and who do I get? No one.”

He said in an almost panicked tone, rambling on and on. He pushed off the wall, pacing around in his office, hands fidgeting.

“I thought—when I felt that spark when I went in your shop, that it might be you, but you weren’t enough. You aren’t my mate, because it would’ve snapped by now, I would’ve felt it, but I didn’t. You aren’t enough for me, and you never will be.”

He said, finally sighing at the end. He wouldn’t even look at you, eyes unfocused and only looking randomly around the room, anywhere but towards you. You swallowed, trying to hold back the tears that welled up because of his words. You weren’t enough. You never would be.

He looked like he felt a bit bad for half a second before his expression hardened again into that unflinching steel you’d grown to hate. He finally looked at you again, no hint of empathy or guilt now in his gaze for leading you on, or practically torturing you these past months.

Taking a shaky breath, you finally choked words out.

“Oh,” You murmured, trying to swallow the lump in your throat.

“Okay.”

You whispered, managing to push off the wall to walk to the door, opening it and walking down the hall, to the room you two had shared, and you began packing your belongings. Picture frames of your family, your clothes, little trinkets, toiletries, you left no trace of you behind as you packed it in a large duffel bag in the closet.

You walked to the front door of the House, open the door, and walk out, the 10,000 steps down looming in front of you. Azriel didn’t offer to fly you down, and it was only when you turned to look back at him, his face stone cold, that you felt it.

The snap.

A shifting warmth and coldness all at once.

And a mating bond.

His face fell in what looked like pure devastation and realization, hazel eyes wide and lips parted. It might’ve been the most emotion you’d seen him show in weeks. He began to walk out, trying to go after you as you began taking the steps, but a large flap and wave of wind stopped him.

Cassian’s large, hulking form stopped him, shaking his head grimly as he walked towards you, where you were still going down the steps, and he laid a hand on your shoulder.

“I’ll fly you.”

He said simply, and you nodded with a sniffle as he picked you up, his wings carried him into the air as he soared up, only to land moments later and drop you off back at the bakery where your family was working. He set you on the ground, pulling you into a warm hug.

“I’m sorry,”

He said, letting you pull away, and for some reason, you believed him. You, Cassian, and Nesta made quite the dynamic trio, and you would probably miss them the most. They were some of your closest friends, and also wonderful drinking buddies. You and Nesta loved cheating in card games and beating Cassian when he was too drunk to notice until he owed either of you a fortune.

“You can always come visit me and Nes, just send a letter or somethin’.”

He murmured to you, wiping the tears from your cheek, and giving you an apologetic grin, before sending you off inside your family’s bakery and flying off.

This time, when you saw the shadow still curled around your wrist like it always had been when you and Azriel were dating, you smacked it off, sticking your hand right into a clear ray of sunshine to chase it off.

You were done being dragged down by shadows and darkness, and for once in your miserable life, you were going to look for the light instead.

[lightsoutletsgo]

girl dad — mv.1

pairing: dad!max verstappen x mom!reader

word count: 2.5k

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, obvs mentions of babies and kids, fluff, the briefest flash of angst and nostalgia hi loves! so this is the result of the absolute brainrot me and @verstappen-cult got stuck in yesterday discussing how max is such a girl dad. I actually really like this one so I hope you like it too! as always please leave any feedback, I always love reading the tags to find out how I can improve my work and what you want to see more of! happy reading! mimi 🤍

Max groaned softly as a heavy weight suddenly landed on his chest. He opened his eyes and saw a perfect reflection of them staring back at him. He couldn’t stop the smile spreading across his face as his arms wrapped around his daughter and he cuddled her close to him, “Good morning little flower,” his voice was gentle and low so as to not wake you up, “did you have exciting dreams last night?” His hand smoothed over Esmee’s hair as she nodded, arm wrapping round her soft plush bunny even tighter as she curled up on his chest. “Well I’m glad to hear that…” They were both still and silent for a moment and Max thought she may have even drifted back off, until she popped up, sitting on his tummy, her hand bringing her bunny’s ear up to her face to gently rub it across her cheek in a soothing motion. Max’s heart clenched as he stared at his baby girl, where was the time going? Just yesterday it seemed like she was still a tiny newborn that he cradled so carefully yet awkwardly. 

“Mama sleep?” The two year old pointed to you lying next to him, your head resting against his shoulder as your chest rose and fell steadily. Max nodded and over exaggerated placing a finger to his lips in a ‘shh’ motion. The toddler giggled, a sweet sound that made Max smile. Max looked at the clock that sat on his bedside table and noticed how early it was and how dark it still was outside, “It’s so early flower! The sun is still sleeping.” Esmee pouted in that sweet funny way only toddlers can and pointed to her tummy, “Hungry papa!” Max made a noise of understanding and scooped her up in his arms, standing and silently padding across the room to leave you sleep. He carried her through the hallways of your family home in Monaco and he relished in the way Esmee snuggled into his neck, finding comfort and warmth in the way he felt each of her short little breaths against his neck. He pressed a kiss to the side of her head and slowed his pace down a little, enjoying the time he had. It was quiet, barely five in the morning, the sun only just beginning to creep up in the sky. The traffic was still light outside, just the hiss of the garbage truck and the occasional siren in the distance. He softly strolled down the hallway, hand rubbing and down Esmee’s back in the way he’d done ever since the first time he held her.

As he got to the kitchen, he placed Esmee down in her chair, not a baby high chair anymore but taller than the rest of your chairs to accommodate her short body. She let out a whine at losing his body heat and attention and he turned back to see her holding her arms out to him, begging to be picked back up. ‘Like mother like daughter’ Max thought, knowing full well he was unable to say no to either of you. He picked her up and placed her over one arm, tickling her tummy with his free hand when her gleeful giggle sounded around the room knowing she’d gotten her own way. Max knew that anyone who looked at him for just a few seconds would see that he was completely wrapped around his daughter’s tiny finger. Just as Mama and Papa were her whole world, she was theirs. 

“What should we have for breakfast Es hm?” Max opened the fridge and looked at the contents, thinking what he could make for all of you, “should we make some for Mama too?” Esmee nodded, excited as Max mentions you. “Panpan papa!” Max laughed as she did her best to say the word ‘pancake’, “Okay then flower, pancakes it is!” Max had watched you make them so many times he was pretty confident in the recipe, knowing it would be in your recipe book on the island if he really needed guidance. Esmee clapped her hands and Max sat her on the counter next to where he was standing, “You want to help?” She nodded and a serious expression took over her face, Max smiled and kissed her forehead before he gathered the ingredients he needed from various cupboards and the fridge. “Okay then flower, let’s do this!” Max pulled the measuring cups from the drawer in front of him and held the correct one out to Esmee. She took it, her pudgy little legs kicking in excitement as her face lit up in glee. Max held out the bag of flour and wrapped his hand around hers to help her dig the right amount out of the bag. He let her tip it into the bowl on her own, her tongue poking out in concentration. Once she was finished, she beamed up at him and he gave a cheer, encouraging her for her efforts, “Good job flower!” She practically bounced on the counter, excited to be making pancakes with her Papa and for a moment Max almost wished you were awake to take a picture of this moment, so that even when he was old and his memory started fading, he would still be able to remember.

He pulled himself back to the present, not wanting to miss looking at her for a second. He was unable to help the way yet another fond smile creeps across his face as he watched  her gasp as she spilt some of the sugar on the counter top but he was quick to reassure her, “It’s okay flower! Mess is okay sometimes.” Her worried expression fell and she was back to staring at the bowl intently as she added the next ingredient. Max handed Esmee an egg, “You’ve done this bit with Mama before, haven’t you flower?” Esmee nodded but still looked at him and held the egg back out to him, “Papa help please?” He leaned down to rub his nose against hers and she giggled trying to push his face away, “Papa tickles!” Max relented and placed his hands over hers to gently tap the egg against the counter and add it to the bowl. He disposed of the shell before helping Esmee lift the milk carton to tip it into the bowl. When they’d added all the ingredients, Max grabbed a whisk and turns to the toddler, “Should Papa do this part?” Esmee nods, “Papa strong!” “Mhmm, Papa is suuuuper strong!” Esmee shrieked with delight as Max threw her into the air once to prove his point before placing her back down, hand ruffling her hair before he began to mix the ingredients together.

Esmee grabbed her bunny and Max gave a fond smile, remembering how it was one of the first things you’d picked out together when you were expecting her. Max allowed himself to reminisce as he remembered how he had been so desperate to have a son, he’d been so sure Esmee would be a boy. He had even told you that he hoped it wasn’t a girl, a point you hadn’t taken too kindly to and had quickly shut down. Max could still remember the conversation like it was yesterday… “Max you cannot be serious.” Your hands were planted firmly on your hips as you shot a cold glare at him and he cowered ever so slightly, “Schat I just meant that-” “No no, Max. I understood what you meant perfectly.” Max was silent, knowing he had no defence against you, “You want a boy to carry on the Verstappen name? You think a daughter can’t go into Formula One? You think a daughter won’t do great things and make you proud just because she’s a woman? What about me? Do you think less of me because I’m a woman?” Max sighed as your ranting stopped. 

“I’m worried about what the world of F1 would do to her…” You pulled back, having never heard him speak so quietly or softly before, he sank down onto the couch, “You know how horrible it can be…” You nodded understandingly, “I do, yes…” “Then you know what kind of things she will have to face.” You took a seat next to him and rubbed his back soothingly, “But she will have you to have her back and protect her from as much of it as you can…” You did your best to calm his mind and he took a deep breath, “I know schat… but also… I don’t know how to be a girl dad! I don’t know how to do hair or how to play with barbies or how to teach her about…” his voice quietened, “periods…” You couldn’t help the way a laugh left you and Max whined at you, “Stop laughing! I’m serious!” 

You planted a kiss against his cheek and sat back against the couch, inviting him to lay his head in your lap near your tummy, something that had become your new routine every evening. Max plopped down and your hand immediately started playing with his hair as he rested one hand on your bump. “I know it’s scary… but you have plenty of time to learn as you go! You’re bound to make mistakes love, we both are… she’ll teach you how she wants to play with you and hey, maybe she’ll be into cars more than barbies!” Max kissed your bump and smiled, “And I think you should probably leave the period talk to me…” He laughed heartily and nodded before turning to your bump once more,  “Hi baby… It’s me… your Papa… W-we don’t know what you are yet,” He looked up at you and you nodded at him reassuringly, “but whether you turn out to be a boy or girl we’ll love you so so much. We already love you so much.” You hand continued through his hair as his eyes closed, “You’re going to love being a girl dad…” One eye cracked open as he stared at you, “You sound sure it’s a girl?” “Call it pregnant woman intuition…” 

“Mama!” A call of your name and Esmee’s hand patting his arm pulled him from his memories and he turned to see you watching in the doorway, the most peaceful and loving expression on your face, you crossed the kitchen having been caught and swept your toddler up in your arms, blowing raspberries on her tummy and feeling your heart squeeze at her little giggles, “Good morning flower!” You sat her up in your arms and her little hands held your face as she gave you a sloppy kiss on the cheek, you laughed and walked back to the counter, gently placing her back down, “What are you doing with Papa hmm?” Esmee pointed at the bowl with wide eyes, “Panpan Mama!” You gasped and widened your own eyes, mimicking her excitement, “You’re making pancakes? Mama’s favourite?” Esmee nodded and her little legs started kicking again. You turned to Max and placed your chin on his shoulder, “Good morning handsome.” he turned his head to kiss your forehead, “Good morning schat.” He put the whisk down and turned to pull you into his arms, “What time did she wake up?” You pulled away from him and headed to the fridge to get some milk for her sippy cup, “Around five…” Max winced and you smiled, “Sorry I stayed asleep,” Max waved your apology away, “Don’t apologise, you need the sleep schatje.” 

His eyes fell to the slight swell of your stomach and thanked every star above that he was lucky enough to have a beautiful wife, a sweet toddler and one more on the way. You bustled around the kitchen, tidying here and there as Max started cooking breakfast. You crossed back to Esmee to give her her sippy cup and she patted your tummy gently as you stood in front of her, “A’morning baby!” You felt a small flutter in your tummy and you booped her nose, “Baby says ‘good morning Esmee!’”

Max felt a huge smile fill his face as he took in the interaction next to him, he turned to you, crossing his arms as he waited for the next pancake to cook before he flipped it over, “You know… I really won’t mind if this one is a girl too…” You looked at him from where you stood and raised one eyebrow with a smirk, “Oh no?” Max let out a breath of laughter, flippin the pancake in the pan, “Yeah yeah, go ahead and laugh…” You shook your head, “Told you you’d love being a girl dad…” Max tipped the cooked pancake on the plate, turned the stove off and crossed the kitchen to wrap his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder so he could watch Esmee tucking into her pancakes with all the vigour a hungry two year old could muster, his voice was quiet, “And what’s your pregnant woman's intuition saying about this one then hmm?” he kissed your neck softly and your head tipped back with a happy hum, “Max Emilian Verstappen, you are destined to be a girl dad…” He laughed and kissed your neck once more.

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And five months later when Anneleise is born, Max stares at her in awe with tears in his eyes as this tiny precious bundle is carefully placed into his arms, “Hi baby girl, I’m your Papa…” Her only response is a big yawn for such a small person and an even bigger stretch as she nestles into his chest, recognising his voice. He isn’t sure why you’re suddenly chuckling to yourself but when he looks up, you’ve got tears in your own eyes as you film him sitting in the hospital chair doing skin to skin with your new daughter. It’s only then that he realises he’s crying. He can’t even find it in himself to be embarrassed, instead, looking back down at Anneleise and softly tracing her tiny features. You watch on and smile, noting how he’s much more assured in how he holds this baby, how he talks to her and you know that just like when Esmee was born, he is instantly wrapped around her finger. You know that just like the promises he made about protecting Esmee and always being there for her, ring true for this daughter as well. You know you’re looking at a man who will attend tea parties, drive his girls to the karting track and to ballet lessons, will do his best to braid their hair, will sing disney songs in the car and paint their nails to the best of his abilities. You know that when your girls get older he will buy them ice cream after a breakup, teach them how to drive, help them revise for exams, support them in their dreams and cry when he watches them get married. Because forever and always, Max is a girl dad.  And later on when Max watches the video you had filmed earlier - and every time after that -  he hears your voice, making him smile,

“Max Verstappen, you are such a girl dad.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

[gojorgeous]

how do the jjk men treat you when ur on ur period? suguru specifically hehe <3

✰ JJK MEN: WHEN YOU'RE ON YOUR PERIOD ✰

pairing(s): gojo, geto, nanami, choso x afab!reader content: (MDNI 18+ only), nsfw-ish/suggestive, periods, period blood, period products, pet names, lots of fluff! a/n: i hope you like anon!! you have great timing cause i’m getting my period and i also have a uti pray for me besties i need help and antibiotics. left out toji and sukuna cause…. nah LMAO. enjoy, and remember ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED!

✰ GOJO:

Lowkey loves when you’re on your period, but is just barely smart enough to never tell you that. 

His favorite part is that you always want more cuddles, which means more cuddles for him. 

Thinks period products are really amusing– loves playing with your hot water bottle cause it’s squishy. Finds those ones that look like stuffed animals at the store and brings home like five of them for you. 

Will definitely buy you pads/tampons but not without the obligatory “what size is your pussy” text. Won’t buy them until you respond with “extra super pretty” and then sends back this emoji -> 😋.

Highkey likes period sex. Knows it can relieve your cramps and will use that as an excuse at every opportunity if you’ll let him. 

Is always on some cheesy ass shit murmuring in your ear about how doing it on your period “bonds your souls”, too. 

Constantly offers to get you pregnant so you can avoid your period for the next nine months… he’s only half joking.

Will actually skip work to stay home and cuddle with you if you give him even the slightest inclination that you don’t want him to go. 

Watches movies with you and has gotten surprisingly good at rubbing little circles on your tummy that help with cramps.

 Keeps the house stocked with candy, but, then again… it’s always stocked with candy.

“Babe. Look what I just found at the store.”  You watch with furrowed brows as he sets the bags on your floor. You’re curled on the couch, a blanket tucked up around your neck. He’d made sure to roll you like a burrito before he’d left.  He pulls out… a cow? It looks like a stuffed animal, but when he shakes it you hear something sloshing around inside. You raise a brow. “Ummmm–”  “It’s one of those hot water bottle thingies! For your cramps!” He tosses the poor cow on the floor and digs around in the bag again. “Oh my god, they had so many. I got the cow, the dolphin–” He tosses a dolphin out of the bag, followed by a puppy, a raccoon, and a cat. “Do you want me to put one in the microwave for you?”  He looks far too excited to turn down, even though you just heated up your old hot water bottle minutes ago. You smile and nod. “Yeah, baby. Thanks.” 

✰ GETO:

Mans TAKES CARE of you. Like… fully. 

Is really sympathetic and gentle when your cramps are killing you– brushing your hair back, rubbing circles on your tummy, letting you put his warm hands wherever it hurts. 

Runs you a warm bath and climbs right in with you. Makes you lean back against him while he gives you a massage and works out all the knots in your neck and shoulders. 

Buys you period products before your period starts if he remembers. If he doesn’t he’s happy to run down to the store. Doesn’t need to ask which ones you like– he already knows.

Wraps you up in the comfiest blankets and cuddles with you wherever you ask. Gives the best cuddles, too. Rubs your back in a way that has you falling asleep in seconds.

Makes sure you take your meds on time and brings you a glass of water. 

Secretly loves period sex. Will never push you for it, but gets super horny at just the thought. Loves the sight of your blood on his dick. Makes him feel possessive of you in a way that’s kind of scary. 

“Sugu…” you whine. Your cramps are bad. You’ve been curled in a ball all morning, even with all the meds Suguru has been giving you. “It hurts so bad.”  You feel him shifting behind you and then his hands gently prying you to lie on your back. You whimper, the pain spiking again as soon you roll out of the fetal position. His face appears above you, a couple stray strands of black hair tickling your cheeks. His smile is soft, but full of sympathy as he settles over you.  “I’m sorry, baby. I wish I could make it go away…”  He moves down your body, settling between your thighs and resting his cheek on the plush of your thigh. You sigh when you feel his fingers skate over your tummy, rubbing little circles into the skin that somehow work wonders for the pain. You sigh with relief, a bit of the tension ebbing away. “That feels nice…”  Your body relaxes a bit, finally getting a break from the incessant pain. Suguru only smiles, looking up at you through hooded eyes when he presses a kiss just below your belly button. You don’t fail to notice the way his thumb is sliding under the fabric of your panties.  “I can think of something that would feel even nicer…” 

✰ NANAMI:

Prepares for your period. 

Has your cycle marked down on his calendar so he always knows when you’re starting. 

Stops by the store a couple of days ahead of time to buy pads/tampons/meds and your favorite snacks. 

Runs a bath for you every night and fills it with all of your favorite soaps and scents. 

Cooks. Mans knows how to cook and does extra of it when you’re on your period. Will make you nutritious meals and urge you to drink water, but always brings you something sweet if you’re craving it. 

Heats up your hot water bottle every thirty minutes without you ever having to ask. 

Lays out a fresh change of clothes for you whenever you’re in the shower. 

Cuddles you whenever you want, but only after he’s tended to all of your other needs (meds, food, water, etc.). 

Will have sex if you want, but will never push you for it. If you just want the relief from your cramps, he’ll just use his fingers to get you off and then pull you back into his arms.

“Time for your bath, sweetheart.”  You nearly grumble in protest, but how can you do such a thing when he takes such good care of you? Still, you don’t want to move. Just existing hurts, much less walking to the bathroom.  Despite your resistance to saying it aloud, Nanami still seems to understand what you’re thinking. No more than a second later he’s scooping you into his arms and carrying you to the bathroom.  “You know you’ll feel better after, love.”  You nod weakly against his chest. “Will you get in with me?”  He pauses. He’s got dinner to make and he wanted to change the sheets for you… One nuzzle of your face into his neck has him throwing all those plans out the window.  “Of course, princess. I’ll get in with you.” 

✰ CHOSO:

Is new to this stuff so he lowkey freaks out. 

Worries that you’re actually in danger cause… there’s blood??? 

Chills out eventually, but is still irrationally convinced that you’re injured. 

When i tell you this man is at your BECK AND CALL, I mean it. He will do every little thing you ask. Fetches water, food, snacks– whatever you need. 

Mans is panicked when he can’t find the candy bar you want at the grocery store. 

Happily buys period products for you but has to facetime you cause the poor baby is overwhelmed and confused by all the options. 

Is kind of attached to you like glue. Thinks you’re somehow more breakable in this state will hold you in his arms permanently apart from when you need to bathe, eat, or use the bathroom. 

Actually freaks when you have a bout of cramps that makes you hiss in pain. Cannot believe you have to do this every month and hates feeling so useless in taking the pain away. Eagerly learns that he can put his warm hands on your tummy and it helps.

Is actually amazed when you tell him that sex helps with the cramps. Worries about hurting you, but is completely down. Mans is definitely not afraid of a little blood lmao.

“Baby… there are so many…”  You can’t help but stifle a laugh looking at your boyfriend’s stressed expression through your phone screen. He’d run down to the store to get you some more pads– you just hadn’t anticipated how overwhelming the experience would be for him.  “I know, Cho. I’m sorry. Here– back up so I can see the whole aisle.”  He does as you ask, flipping the camera around so you can see what he’s looking at. You have to bite your lip this time to keep the laugh in. You’ve never realized just how many options there really are. “The ones toward the bottom right, baby. With the pink box.”  The camera shakes a little as he follows your directions, arm sticking out like he’s playing pin the tail on the donkey.  “These?” His hand hovers over a box that is pink but not the pink you need.  “Down a couple racks.”  Finally, his hands close around the right box. “Thank you, baby. I didn’t think about how confusing this would be for you…”  The camera flips again and you grin at the soft soft smile on his lips. “Don’t apologize. Want me to grab some candy, too?”

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[chamomiletealeaf]

how do you think the cod boys would react to you being on your period…. like i feel like a lot of those mfs wouldn’t let it stop shit … 😳🥰

Tbh I'm not into period sex or anything like that, but I think they wouldn't mind. I think Johnny would be the most into it though.

warnings: period, period sex, suggestive comments, mostly fluff

Johnny wouldn't mind the blood, as long as he gets to fuck you and make you feel good. He'd actually initiate it.

"You feelin' alright love?" He asks.

"Mm ok. Why?" You ask.

"Just curious. You cramping at all?" He asks, almost hopefully.

"No? Not really. A little achey, but, not too bad." You respond, looking at him with furrowed eyebrows, confused as to what he's getting to.

He makes a dissatisfied grunt and pouts.

"What's going on? You want me to be in pain?" You laugh confusedly.

"No no not at all bonnie. I just- know what helps soothe the cramps best." He smirks and you roll your eyes catching on after a second.

"I mean, now that you bring it up, I am feeling a little something." You walk up to him and wrap your arms around his neck smiling.

-

Gaz would be the sweetest, Price right up there with him. He would definitely love to lay on top of you like a weighted blanket giving you kisses and feeding you snacks. If your cramps got really bad, he would shyly suggest sex, only as a last resort.

"Honeyyyy" You sniffle, gripping onto his shoulder with him lying on top of you every time you get a pang of pain in your lower half.

"I know, I'm sorry sweetheart." Gaz coos, pecking your neck with little kisses while on top of you, his arms squeezing you tight.

"Hurts Gaz." You whimper.

"The meds aren't working hun? not the heating pad? nothing?" He asks.

You shake your head teary eyed.

Gaz takes a second to think and he gets noticeably shy, avoiding your eyes.

"Well, uh- I mean- there's another thing we could try. If you're comfortable of course." He mumbles.

"What is it?" You ask, desperate for any sort of relief.

"Well, uh-" He laughs shyly. "I heard that, well- I mean we could try having sex maybe- heard it can help with cramps. Only if you want." He stutters out quickly and you smile.

"Do you want to?" You ask, loving how cute he looks while embarrassed.

"I wouldn't be opposed no. Think it's worth a try- maybe?" He says, ducking his head into your neck, too shy to look you in the eyes after such a suggestion.

You lift his face up from your neck and kiss him.

"Help me get these off yeah?" You say, smile forming on his face.

-

Price would be just as sweet as Gaz, but more controlling, meaning he wouldn't let you lift a finger even to use the bathroom. Uh-uh, he's carrying you everywhere.

You accidentally bleed on his sheets and he wakes up not seeing you in the bed. He gets up, not noticing the stain at first until you walk back in with a wet warm towel.

"Oh. Sorry. I wasn't supposed to wake you. Just- go back to sleep." You tell him, embarrassed and panicked look on your face.

"What are you doing sweetheart?" Price asks, sitting up in the bed. It was pretty early, sun just rising so you both could see without the lights on.

"I- nothing just go back to sleep." You say, walking closer to the bed and pulling the sheets over the spot you stained his white bedsheets.

Price grabs the sheets and pulls them back, confused as to why you were so jittery and what you were covering.

When he pulls them back he sees a big red stain right where you were laying. You must have bled so heavily right through your pad/tampon that it woke you up. You look down at the warm towel you had embarrassed to look him in the eyes.

"Oh sweetheart.." He coos at you as he moves to stand up out the bedd, walking over towards you.

"I'm sorry John I'll clean it up. Just go back to sleep." You say, tears forming in your eyes from the overwhelming amount of hormones taking over your emotions.

"Honey come here." Price whispers, pulling you into a hug. "It's ok sweetheart no need to cry. C'mon let's get you in the shower hm? You want a bath maybe so you don't have to stand love?" He asks, rubbing your back while you cry to soothe you.

"But- the sheets." You sniffle into his chest.

"Love I don't give a bloody damn about the sheets. I'll take care of them while you just rest yourself now hm? Now answer the question, bath or shower?" He says, lifting your chin to look at him with his pointer finger and thumb.

"Shower, standing helps. Don't wanna sit in bloody water either." You say while Price wipes your tears.

"Ok sweetheart. I got you." He says, then picks you up bridal style.

"John I'm gonna get blood on you!" You squeal panicked.

"Oh hush- I don't care. You think I'm afraid of gettin' a little bit of blood on me?" He jokes reassuringly as he walks you to the bathroom.

He places you on the counter as he starts the shower.

"C'mon, give me those clothes darling. I'll wash them and the sheets. You'll have your favorite pajamas waiting for you when you're done. Just relax now hm?"

You strip in front of him and he lets his eyes wander. You look so beautiful even when you're miserable.

You hand him your clothes and he pulls you to him to kiss your forehead.

"And listen, if the shower doesn't help, I know another way to take all those icky feelings away." He smirks and you laugh.

"There we go. That's what I wanna see. Don't ever wanna see you feel bad baby."

-

Simon would be quiet, but always following you around right by your side just in case you need something. He's by your side more usual on your period, silently knowing what you're going through, so he makes sure he's always there and will do anything you ask immediately.

"Siiii" You whine.

He's immediately sitting up next to you on the couch to tend to you.

"Could you get me some tea please? Can't move." You look up pouting at him and how could he say no.

"Of course sweetheart." He says and immediately gets up.

He comes back in a few minutes with your tea to find you curled up in a blanket. He sets the tea down and quietly sits next to you and pulls you into his lap.

"Hey you ok lovie?" He asks and you stay silent, as if it hurts to even speak.

"Hey. What do you need baby?" He asks while brushing your hair from your eyes.

You turn into his chest and close your eyes.

"You wanna take a nap? I'll stay right here with you." He says and you shake your head.

"No? Ok hun. What do you want then? Can't give you what you need if you don't tell me sweetheart."

"Hurts." Is all you say, and you shift in his lap right on his cock and he grunts a little.

You look up at him with wide eyes hoping he'll get what you're saying.

"I know love, I know." He says. "You need me to rub your back? Show me where it hurts bun'."

You grab his hand and move his hands to your sore breasts.

"Aw they sore?" He gently squeezes and kneads your tits with one hand and you whine.

"Yeah. That feels good." You say, whimpering when he squeezes too hard.

"You need more love? Need me to fuck the cramps away?" He coos and you nod.

"Ok bun', let's get you on your back hm? All you gotta do is relax alright?"

You nod your head and close your eyes, letting Simon give you what you need.

[teatreeoilll]

𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐲 (𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐗 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐗 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮)

˚• . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° .

w/c - 1.4k content - MDNI! 18 + ! fem!reader, porn, Gojo eats you out while you sit on Geto's lap. That's it. That's the plot.

• . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . 

Geto loves it when you sit in his lap. He loves it so much that sometimes he can't help himself; he puts a large arm around you first, nuzzling his face into your hair to smell its sweet scent, almost intoxicated. You draw closer to him; it's hard not to when the pads of his fingers begin to draw soothing patterns on your shoulder.

It's just a regular Tuesday night, and some average heist movie is playing idly on the television, and neither you, Geto, or Gojo - who made himself at home in your and Suguru's shared apartment with his feet crossed over on the coffee table - are paying too much mind to it.

You watch Gojo reach a pale, veiny arm into the bag of sweets. He takes out a piece of candy and unwraps it slowly, and you notice how his tongue darts out just a bit before he puts the chocolate candy in his mouth.

"Want one?" Gojo asks as he's about to take another one, and something in his small smirk when he says that makes your muscles tense.

With his hand still around you, Geto notices that - it's not the first time he spots it - he already took note of the light red flush that covers your cheeks when his best friend comes over after a workout with his shirt too tight from being drenched in sweat, or when you look just a moment too long into Gojo's blue eyes when you greet him before your eyes dart to the floor, the corners of your lips twitching up. Not that you ever do or say anything; it's all so innocent and sweet that Geto can't help but savor it, knowing his girlfriend's dirty little secret crush.

"Oh - no, thanks," you smile back at Gojo and lean further into Suguru's side, fixing your eyes on the screen.

Geto's arm around you tightens, and he reaches his other arm under your thighs to lift you up a bit and pull you on his lap. The heat spreads quickly on your cheeks, "S-Suguru," you whisper, fumbling away from his grasp, "not now." Geto knows you're not too much into public displays of affection, but the thought itches his mind, and his trousers grow uncomfortably tight.

Geto pulls you on top of him anyway, and Gojo's ever-perceptive pale-blue eyes stray away from the screen to land on your flushed face.

"Don't be shy," Geto whispers as his hand brushes the hair away from the back of your neck. His heavy breathing warms your skin, "We're all friends here, aren't we?" He raises his arm to grab you by the side of the face, turning it for your eyes to land on Gojo as he presses chaste kisses over your neck.

"S-Suguru," you whimper, feeling his stiff cock rubbing on your lower back through his trousers, "not - " but you can hardly breathe when you notice the sly smirk plastered on Gojo's lips and the way his jaw clenches each time you try to wriggle away from Suguru's touch.

"Satoru's a good friend, don't you think?" Geto urges, his hand leaving your face to brush over your thigh, raising the hem of your skirt, "I don't think you ever told him what a good friend he is, did you?"

"I don't think she did, Suguru," Gojo suddenly says, his eyes narrowing when the blush on your cheeks deepens to a crimson shade, "but I guess it's my fault," he sighs dramatically as he runs a hand through his white hair, "I don't think I ever showed her what a good friend I am. How's she supposed to know?"

Suguru chuckles, shaking your body along with him, "I guess she isn't," He runs his hand up your thigh to slide his fingers over your drenched panties, and you shudder, "But she wants you to show her. Don't you, princess?"

All you manage is a stifled mm-hmm before Gojo pushes the coffee table away, and it screeches as it reaches the middle of the living room, making space for him to kneel and settle himself between your thighs.

You gulp when you feel Gojo's hand run up your thighs, grabbing the sides of your underwear to pull them off, and you shiver at the touch of his warm hands running down along your legs together with your panties. He throws them on the floor and looks at you from beneath his long white eyelashes. The air gets trapped in your lungs.

"Come on, princess," Suguru's voice purrs in your ear as he spreads his legs, your own legs on either of his, revealing your wet cunt to Gojo's eager eyes, "Tell Satoru what a good friend he is, or he won't know."

"Y-You're a very good - " and Gojo reaches a long finger to skim along your folds, "Friend - Fuck - " you gasp.

"That's not nice," Geto chastises in your ear, his palms holding your thighs spread, and you place your hands on top of them, digging your fingers into them to steady yourself.

"It's okay, Suguru," Gojo smirks as his face draws closer to your clit, licking a teasing stripe along it, and you feel him smiling against your cunt, "She'll be nice in a minute."

Gojo's tongue begins lapping at your folds, and your thighs jolt, wanting desperately to close on his head only for Geto to hold them tighter in place, "Satoru - Fuck - " you moan, feeling Geto's cock twitch against your lower back.

"Feels good?" Geto murmurs, and you feel Gojo's two long fingers hover at your entrance before pushing in teasingly slow, his tongue still flicking at your clit.

"So sweet," Gojo pulls away from your clit, his mouth drenched in your essence as he works you open with his fingers, licking his lips clean, "If you told me she tastes so sweet, we would've done this a lot sooner."

Geto's chaste kisses on your neck turn to soft nibbles on the soft skin there as he groans every time your body twitches, letting him have a bit of delicious friction on his clothed cock, "Shit," he groans into your neck. He pulls his hand off of one of your thighs, running his fingers along your wet cunt to collect your essence before lifting them up to his mouth, licking them clean, "You are, so sweet."

Gojo's fingers pick up a ruthless pace, the pads of his fingers abusing the gummy spot inside you, "So needy," he smirks when he feels you clench around his fingers, and your vision nearly blurs when his tongue laps at your folds again, your hand darting out to grab strands of white hair to make sure he doesn't pull away again.

"Ah - Fuck - " you moan out as you writhe and squirm at the dizzying feeling of Gojo's fingers nudging your sweet spot, the heat pooling in your stomach as a Geto still holds you in place, "Shit - 'Toru - I - "

The lewd squelching noises coming from your wet cunt fill the room, and your back arches, tension coiling in your stomach as you almost instinctively turn your head to Suguru, who shakes his head. "It's okay princess," Geto's fingers grip your chin to tilt it down at Satoru, "You can look at him."

And you watch Gojo's blue eyes, desperate moans mixed with cusses escaping your lips as he looks up at you. His tongue still works hungrily on your clit, and his fingers push deeper and deeper with each erratic thrust while his free hand rubs his erection through his trousers for some relief.

The coil in your stomach snaps, and your release drenches Satoru's lips and chin as his movements finally slow down. Your nails dig into his scalp as you ride out your high on the slowing pumps of his fingers. He slides his fingers out, "'Toru - " you whimper when his tongue glides one more time against your sensitive clit.

You feel Geto's unsteady breathing at your neck as he locks eyes with Gojo, giving him a nod. Gojo rises from his knees, his face an inch away from yours, "You have one more in you, princess?" He asks but doesn't wait for an answer before pressing his slick-drenched lips against yours, sliding his tongue into your mouth as he moans at the feeling of your release rolling off his tongue onto yours, the sweet aftertaste of the candy he ate still present on his tongue.

He pulls out of the kiss, and you turn to Suguru, who eagerly pushes his tongue in your mouth, "I bet you do," Gojo teases, and you feel him between your legs again, pressing soft, wet kisses to your inner thigh.

[iid-smile]

geto would...

if you were dating them series.

lay next to you when you're cramping. he already has a heat pad against your abdomen, pillows and blankets adjusted to your liking, and he just lays there with you. his eyes would trace over your expression constantly, and down to where your arms clutch over your waist. if you're okay with touch, his hand would rub over your thigh, up to your shoulder, cup your cheek, and run all the way back down. he'd let you bury your head in his chest if the cramps are particularly bad or if you just feel a bit embarrassed. he'd hum every time you whimper or groan to remind you that he's there, and gently kiss your neck every now and then.

buy you tights. i think he would prefer tights over bare legs. around winter time, he'd buy you all sorts of tights that go well with a lot of outfits. lined tights that keep you warm are a must have. honestly, he prefers black tights over skin coloured ones as well. when the two of you are sat around, he likes circling his hand around your lower thighs and knees. the material separating his skin from yours, and his warmth slowly seeping through the fabric, transferring over to you.

rest his chin on the top of your head. don't worry, you don't have to be short for this. if you are short, he'll do it when the two of you are waiting for something while standing, like the bus or a queue. may hug you from behind, or hold somewhere in between your shoulders and upper arms. height doesn't matter when you're sat on a chair. he'd place his chin down and wrap his arms around your neck while leaning down. and he's warm. for some reason, it feels ten times warmer when he does it while your sitting compared to standing. 100% the best when he's wearing a sweater or cardigan and he has sweater paws! (bonus points if his hair is down!!!)

play the pepero/pocky game with you on a daily basis. the more he does it, the less it is to tease you and the more it's an excuse to kiss you with a sweet flavour. there's not a single day where the two of you haven't done it, and it doesn't necessarily have to be with just the coated biscuit. you've tried gummy worms, marshmallows, rainbow belts, twizzlers, anything thats long enough to give some suspense before your lips actually touch. even when one of you are cooking and you want to try something like fries, spaghetti, rolled up crepes, you still do it. this time, the kiss turns into only a peck so the two of you can pull away and have time to chew.

stretch with you. after his atrocious posture in high school, he promised himself to stretch every morning and keep his back crack free at all times. when he does this, he does move around on the mattress a lot, so sometimes it shakes you awake. though stretching does remind him of a certain someone (iykyk), he doesn't want think about it and tries to associate stretching with you instead. he'd help you out with getting in the right positions, or investing some time into easy yoga that you can both get into.

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[lokis-army-77]

A request for you: hugging best friend!Eddie and he pops a boner. Do what you will with this information. - @munson-blurbs 💚

Recipes for Romance

Bestfriend!Eddie Munson x fem reader

Word Count: 2.1k

When your best friend comes home while you're cooking dinner and something happens. . .

Warning: 18+. Oral (m receiving), gagging, choking, masturbation, cum swallowing

Thank you @munson-blurbs for sending this in.. I do believe this is the best BJ I've written 💗💗.

Masterlist

It's funny how love happens. One minute you're friends with someone and then the next, you realize something fundamental in your relationship has changed. No longer were you childhood best friends living together in a small, two-bedroom apartment trying to make a place for yourselves in this world. Now, you were childhood best friends who live together but one of you has an unrequited crush on the other. 

Simple chores around the house and just hanging out with one another have turned into something more domestic on your end. You could see yourself coming home to him so easily. 

Really, what would change if you were to tell him? Nothing, other than he would kiss you when you came home instead of only giving you a hug and asking what was on the menu for dinner that night. 

That's where you were tonight. In the kitchen, chopping up ingredients for dinner like usual, thanks to Eddie's lack of expertise in anything other than pizza rolls and microwavable macaroni cups. If it had been left up to him both of you probably would have starved by now. 

It was nearing eight when Eddie strolled through the apartment door, guitar slung on his back and an amp being hoisted up in his arms. Oh, those arms. He was wearing a black muscle shirt, perfect for the summer heat and showing off the delicious-looking veins that protrude from them. 

“Hey, Eds!” You call out to him. 

He grumbles out, “Hey,” in response, and fumbles with his things all the way down the hallway behind you, to your right, and into his room. 

It’s a few moments and chopped cilantro later that you hear his bare feet padding back to where you are. 

“How was your day?” The question comes out smoothly, without a thought, because you had been asking him this same thing forever. 

“Good," he answers. “I’m exhausted.” 

“Well, it’s a good thing dinner's almost ready, then you can go to bed.” You move about the small rectangular kitchen area with the grace that comes with knowing the area like the back of your hand. 

You’re stirring the warming spaghetti sauce so that it doesn’t burn to the bottom of the pan when you feel those same bare arms you had been lustfully gazing at only a short while before reaching around your hips. You stop, freezing your movements to focus on how not to let Eddie feel the racing of your heart. 

His chin rests on your shoulder and his hair tickles your neck. “Smells good,” he mumbles. 

You blush. You know he’s talking about the food but you wish he were talking about you. It was always nerve-wracking for you when he got clingy like this. Knowing you couldn’t just relax into him how you wanted. Having to hold yourself back from turning your head and giving him a peck on the lips. 

Eddie continued to watch you cook, nuzzling his nose deeper into the crook of your neck. You were hyper-aware of his lips on your bare skin and you were even more aware of growing hardness pressing against your ass. 

Your face heats up even more as you think to yourself, ‘Why god? Why do this to me?’ It’s a struggle to keep stirring the food when all your attention is focused on your best friend's dick. You shift your weight from one foot to the other, the movement has Eddie humming into your neck and making him harden even more. 

One of his hands unwraps from around you and grips your hip. You can feel his breathing becoming more labored as he struggles behind you. 

You reposition yourself once more, this time pushing back into him just a little. Eddie can’t catch the strangled moan that flies up from his throat. 

“Fuck.” His lips move across your skin like a hot branding iron, saying your name breathlessly. 

“Eddie?” You question innocently. 

“Hum?” He replies. 

You push the saucepan back onto a cool part of the stovetop and turn the once-in-use eye off. 

“Are you…” You can’t bring yourself to say it out loud, but he knows your silent query. 

It takes him a moment to say anything. He swallows hard and nods. “Yeah. Shit, I’m sorry.” He squeezes your hip with his large hand and begins to back away. 

“Wait!” Your voice is louder than you had anticipated it to be but the urgency in it stops Eddie before he is fully separated from you. “Eddie, wait,” you say much softer this time. 

He stops, the tips of his fingers barely touching you. You turn around in his light hold, eyes staring up into his. Your heart is beating a mile a minute as you say, “I can help with that y’know.” 

Eddie sputters, seemingly choking on air. “W-what?” His face blushed a deep red and it flushed all the way down his neck.

Taking a breath, you try and calm yourself down. Those six words can’t be taken back now, but why would you want to do that anyway? The thought of his hard cock filling your mouth was the only thing running through your mind and now that a chance had arisen, you were going to take it. 

“I said,” You trail your hand down down down until you are cupping him over his jeans. “I can help with that… Unless you don’t want me to.” 

Eddie’s eyes go wide and he opens and closes his mouth like he’s trying to find the words to say only to be left mute. Instead, he nods his head, letting his curls cover his face. 

You turn your bodies, pushing him up against the counter, and with less practiced grace than moving about the kitchen, you begin to undo his pants. His breath catches and he looks away from you for only a moment when your hand dips past the waistband of his pants. 

“Oh god-” He swallows. 

Ever so slowly you begin your descent to your knees, taking his pants and boxers down with you. The sight left before you makes your mouth water and your legs clench. He looks painfully hard, the tip flush and a bead of pre-cum pooling at the slit. You ached to run your tongue over the vein protruding down his shaft, you needed to have his balls in your mouth. 

So, that’s what you do. From base to tip you lick a fat, wet strip up him. His hips jerk forward, one hand caught in your hair, and the other holds on for dear life to the edge of the counter. You lick again and again, over and over. 

“Fuck-,” your name falls from Eddie's lips in a whimper. That sound had your stomach flipping and your pussy fluttering. You needed him to do that again.  

You start to pepper kisses along his shaft, ending at his head and giving it one big smooch before opening and taking him into your mouth. 

Eddie tugs on your hair at the first experimental suck that you give him. You can't help but moan at the slight pain. Taking him a bit more you suck again, gentle and with little force. 

"Ah-." There it was, that whiny sound. 

You bring your hand up to wrap around the length of him not nestled in the warmth of your mouth. Giving him a firm squeeze you begin to move. Up and down, up and down. You follow your hand with your mouth. 

The hot and tangy taste of him spreads across your tongue and pre-cum just dribbles out of him. Really, it makes you salivate, it makes you wet. And what really turns you on is knowing that this is your best friend. This is the guy you've known since forever. The guy you never thought you would ever be doing this with. 

It made you hungry for more, needy, and unsatisfied. You dip your head further down, lips meeting your fingers at his base.

"Oh God. Oh fuck." Another strangled whimper followed by the prettiest grunts and groans. Your other hand, resting on Eddie's thigh, could feel how his leg tensed with every suck, with every nudge of the back of your throat. Then he jerked forward again. His cock buries deep into your throat.

You choke and gag around him, spit dripping from the corners of your mouth and falling down your neck. Tears sting in your eyes but you let him thrust into you. 

Eddie says your name like a prayer. It flows from his lips in a melody only for you. He’s got your hair fisted in his hand, fingers digging into your skull. Your own fingers dig into his strong thighs. Then, he lets you go and you pull away fast for air. A string of drool connects your lips to his cock. 

“Eddie,” You say as you look up at him through thick lashes and heavy eyes. 

“Mmm.” He hums, head falling to the side. 

“You taste so good. Want you to cum down my throat.” 

He looks down at you in such a way that you think you can see something other than love for a friend. Something more potent, something like what you feel for him. It makes the breath catch in your lungs. 

Eddie releases his grasp on your hair and smooths his hand down and onto your cheek. His thumb rubs light circles into your skin. You lean in more, scooting closer to him on your knees, ignoring the numbness in them. 

The cheek he isn’t touching rests on his thigh and you continue to look up at him as you take his cock fully in your hand and start pumping. 

Eddie bites his lip but that doesn’t stop the moans. “God damnit, baby…” 

He’s never called you that before. Sure a pet name here and there, sweetheart or something of the sort, but never baby. The name had you aching with need and it only took a few more high-pitched whimpers from Eddie to have you shoving your other hand down your shorts. 

You were drenched, wetness pooled in your panties and around your fingers as you swiped them through your folds. You trail your lips down to his balls and kiss them before sucking one into your mouth. 

There is a moment when you think Eddie is going to fall on top of you. You feel his knees buckle and his feet shuffling to keep himself upright. 

You let go of him with a pop and then take the other into your mouth, warming him and running your tongue over the skin. 

“Fuck fuck fuck. Baby- mmm,” Eddie can’t keep quiet and you don’t want him to. The louder he is, the more it encourages you. 

After a few more pumps of your hand, you move your mouth back to the tip of his cock and take him deep. This time when he hits the back of your throat, you don’t gag as bad but tears still swell in your eyes. You let him buck his hips into you, following his rough pace with your hand as you rub your fingers into your clit. 

“Gonna cum baby, fuck gonna make me cum. Such a pretty mouth." Eddie blubbers. "Fuck I love you, baby. Gonna fill that mouth up. You gonna swallow all of it, baby?"

You hum around his cock at his words. Heart beating faster and safer as your own orgasm begins to come forward. 

With a hand buried in your hair again. Eddie pushes you down onto his cock, nose pressed against his abdomen and drool spilling down your chin. You feel him twitch and watch through tear-rimmed eyes as his head falls back and his mouth hangs open. Eddie lets out the most lewd-sounding moan as he releases his sticky, hot cum down your throat. 

You swallow and swallow, consuming all that he gives you. Your hand still works between your thighs and in a gush of pleasure, you can feel your release dripping over your fingers. 

Pulling away from Eddie, his cock now softening, you catch your breath. You move to sit more comfortably on the floor and lean your forehead on Eddie's left knee. 

"Wow…" Eddie heaves out. "That was- that was fucking amazing." His grip eases in your hair and then he's adjusting himself back into his pants before sitting on the floor with you. 

"Look at me?" He asks. You're avoiding eye contact with him, embarrassment of the actions and words just exchanged flooding through you. 

"Sweetheart, please look at me." He pleaded.

That name had you looking timidly through your hair. Those big, brown eyes caught yours and in that moment you knew that another fundamental piece of your relationship had changed. 

No longer was it two childhood best friends living together with one having a crush on the other. No. It was now two childhood best friends who loved each other in every way, who were once too scared to say anything lest they break up the friendship. 

[runa-falls]

summer heat

summary: suntanning with miguel, what could go wrong?

pairing: miguel o'hara x reader

warnings: explicit 18+, smutty ass smut, unprotected sex, semi-public, creampie, multiple orgasms, barely bondage, so fucking self-indulgent

w/c: 1.5k

a/n: for REASONS, i am reposting this fic... im not here to argue bc this is my blog and i don't want that guy on here anymore 🤷‍♀️ enjoy the heat <3

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An alarm chimes over the music, jolting you out of your drowsy catnap to remind you that your fifteen minutes are up. You feel like a broiled fish as you get up and flip onto your stomach, making sure to adjust your swimsuit to avoid any awkward tan lines. 

It’s a sweltering day at the height of the summer and you’ve somehow convinced Miguel to spend his day off at the pool.

You managed to fit in a few laps in the crystal water before deciding to spend the rest of your time tanning. Miguel decided to stay in the cool water, opting to enjoy his time watching you tan with a beer in hand. 

There’s something about openly soaking in the rays while listening to soft rock through your airpods that never fails to lull you into a relaxing trance. You nearly drift off with how comfortably you lay on the padded poolside lounger, head tucked easily against your arm.

You’ve lost track of time as you lay there, not even sure if you set the next timer. Not really caring either. 

Your body jolts as cold, wet hands suddenly wrap around your sun-kissed skin. You didn’t even notice the shadow that’s been standing over you, barely cooling your skin by just blocking the rays.  

Music continues to blare from your headphones but you can barely hear it because you're too focused on Miguel and his wandering hands. Familiar calloused fingers tickle your skin as they gently glide from your waist to your hips, softly caressing your warmed skin.

You sigh against his doting touch as he squeezes and gropes at your curves, reminding you how perfectly you fit against him. Your legs subtly rub together as you feel your center pulse with excitement, just the mere presence of him sets you on fire. 

You can feel the reclined chair dip slightly as he joins you on it, barely hovering an inch over your body.

Gentle kisses from cold lips are pressed against your heated neck and then down to your shoulder. You shiver as cool drops of water trail down your back before absorbing into the towel under you. He’s dripping over you, still soaking wet from the pool. 

Your swim bottoms are tugged down but only to your thighs, effectively locking your legs together. His finger slides experimentally against your glistening lips, spreading your slick over your center and rubbing against your eager clit until you’re shaking under him. Your body aches to be filled as he teases your center with touches that are far too gentle for your liking.

Miguel finally gives in, prodding a finger against your leaking hole until you start to arch against his touch in desperation. You can barely hear yourself whining over your music as he continues to tease you, pulling his hand away as you blindly chase him.

His other hand drifts over your lower back and pins your hips against the chair, sending you a silent message to keep still or he’ll stop. You listen, stilling your movements almost instantly. 

He pushes in, angling his finger at just the right position to make you grip the chair under you and start panting. He moves slowly, stroking against your sopping walls almost lovingly as you tremble against him, trying your best not to move. 

As you tilt your head against the lounger, your right airpod is knocked out and suddenly the music stops.

Finally you hear it: he’s been talking -- cooing soft and encouraging words above you in that deep, guttural voice of his as he works your body. 

A soft gasp spills from your lips as he works another finger into you.

“That’s right, baby, take it just like that…”

Your mind feels like it’s being rewired as his hand begins to speed up. Your eyes roll back before squeezing shut as expertly prods against a euphoric spot inside of you.

“You’re being so good for me, cariño. So fucking wet…and sweet for me.” The filthy sounds of his fingers thrusting into you pushes you toward the edge and you can’t help how your cunt flutters around his fingers, already overwhelmed by every little touch. 

Your orgasm flows through your body intensely, pouring into every nerve and muscle with full force.

“That’s it, sweet girl, let go for me.” You cry out against the chair as it hits you all at once. If Miguel wasn't holding you down, you’d be shaking uncontrollably under him. 

He resituates himself over you as you recover from your climax and easily positions your body so he’s nestled right against your ass. You can feel his covered erection through his trunks pressing eagerly against the material and against you. You wish you could turn over and look at him, but he’s still holding you exactly where he wants you.  

The suit is still damp and it feels wonderful as it’s pressed against your heated skin. 

“Out here?” It’s not the first time he’s taken you outside, but right in the open on a pool chair with nothing to hide behind? 

“Yeah, why not?”  Miguel shifts against you and slightly pushes your legs apart to feel your hot center flush against the front of his shorts.

"B-but what if somebody --" He holds your waist firmly as he grinds himself fluidly against you and you can't help but gasp at the feeling.

"What if somebody what?" He teases with a sly smile. You squirm as he brushes against your sensitive heat, but you can’t move away, he’s holding you too tightly. “Your pussy’s beggin for it.” 

You whimper at the feeling, “Put it in…”

“Hm? What was that?”

“Please, Mig.” He groans when you arch your back to push yourself harder against him. More insistent. You're basically whining at this point, “Fuck me.”

He pulls away for a second and you can hear him pull off his swim shorts before returning to you.

“As you wish, sweetheart.” You can hear that stupid grin in his voice. He’s quite proud of himself for making you so needy and pliant. 

You hear a soft sigh behind you as his hands smooth over your ass and spread you open before him. It’s not long until you feel the warm hardness of his cock slide against your quivering cunt, pushing and prodding at your needy entrance. 

A broken gasp lurches from your throat as he pushes in slowly, letting you feel each inch stretch you to your limit. The positioning of your closed legs, bound by your suit, makes him feel much thicker than usual.

He shushes your whimpers as he pushes all the way in, and then he stays there, prolonging the intense feeling of complete fullness. 

He slowly pulls out, but only half way, before pushing back in.

“Fuck, you’re tight like this.” The deep groan against your back causes you to clench around him involuntarily. He sounds so hot when he loses control. “Relax, baby. Lemme just use your body…”

He manages to continue his deep thrusts, pushing your lower back down to get the perfect angle into you. The pool chair, not made for the weight of two fucking adult, or abrupt movements, groans under you as he fucks you into it. 

All you can do is lay there and take it. 

You cry out as his cock drags deliciously against your tight walls and an electric sensation builds rapidly in your lower stomach. Your body moves with him, trying to chase that addictive feeling of ecstasy.

His thrusts are deep and rough, enticing another orgasm from you within minutes of being inside of you. You swear he knows your body better than you do inside and out from how expertly he can draw out mind bending pleasure. 

With just a few more movements your climax rams into you without warning. You feel hot tears spill down your cheeks with how intense it is as it spreads like a wildfire from your stomach to the tips of your toes. You writhe against the chair with overwhelming pleasure as he continues to plunge into you, holding you steady under him. 

Your mind is numb with bliss when Miguel reaches his end. He buries himself deep into you with a shudder, painting your walls with the soft warmth of him. 

You both lay on the chair together, limbs tucked against each other under the beating sun. Despite the heat, you’ve never felt so relaxed, so refreshed.

He pulls you closer to his side,  “15 minutes are up by the way. I think you forgot to set your timer.” His voice rumbles through his chest and onto you.

“Wait, that was my wake up call?” He has that adorable lopsided smile spread on his face and a faint blush over his nose from the sun.

“Yeah, got a little carried away.” 

“Tell me about it. Your ass is probably burnt now!”

[pseudowho]

The Chase

(help me find the Nanami artist in the banner, for crediting and thanks/permission!)

Kento doesn't appreciate your insistence on No-Nut November. At a Curse-user VS Jujutsu Sorcerer event with the students, Kento hunts you down in a slow-burning, cat-and-mouse, smutty thrill ride.

WARNINGS: 18+, Oral sex (F2M), BDSM, use of toys, some subtle knife-play, overstimulation, orgasm denial, PiV sex, Nanami Kento falling off his perch and Inumaki being an absolute menace, Y/N is a Jujutsu High teacher with a badly explained technique

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"AND WHAT SAY WE TO DEATH, CHILDREN?"

"NOT TODAY!" "SALMON!"

Satoru beamed and clapped at the fighting words of his students, who rustled together and chatted in excitement for their team training day. You smiled fondly at your students (Nobara, Yuuji and Inumaki particularly pumped), but you felt a shiver run down your chest and shoulders.

Kento's eyes bore only into you, and as he pulled the black leather glove tighter to his hand, you felt heat blossom in your belly and pussy. Team game or not, you knew, as a bead of sweat dripped between your cleavage- not unnoticed by Kento, whose wolfish smirk only grew, cock twitching in his black jumpsuit- that you were his prey today, and his alone.

The hunt was on- and you had nobody to blame but yourself.

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Kento clipped a suitcase shut, and zipped his satchel with a huff, mentally ticking off his to-do list, before the team training day which he was in no mood for. While you trailed in and out of the bedroom behind him, every time you brushed past his back, or your fingers grazed his to take something from the bed, his skin turned electric. He reached down to his crotch and squeezed his cock with a suppressed growl; he had been half-hard for weeks, all because of you and your stupid game. No-Nut November was a fucking ridiculous concept, and you had a lot to answer for. Silent and stewing, his strong shoulders were rock solid, as he imagined taking you on the bed, in the shower wet and pink as he hammered into you from behind, making you ride him on the sofa until you were floppy and pliable and begging him to cum inside you, and--

"Kento, are you alright? It is a bit hot in here. You look all sweaty." Feigning concern, and reaching up to scratch your nails through the back of his undercut, you knew exactly what was wrong with your fiancé. Kento's head preened backwards, shivering into your nails, and he turned, pressing you against the wall, his usual gentleness barely winning over his insistence, his need.

"We don't need to continue these silly games any longer, do we darling?" he crooned into your neck, voice honey-laced and persuasive, "You're feeling it too. I know. There would be no winners or losers, here." One muscled forearm pressed against the wall above your head, tongue licking slow circles on your decolletage, while the other hand ghosted over your nipple, tweaking softly. Kento's cock ached desperately, pressing against you. His heart dropped as you laughed and kissed him playfully, sliding out from under his towering frame.

"It's the 28th today, Kento. We're nearly there. Just imagine how good we're going to feel on the 1st." Truth be told, you were absolutely desperate, growing more so as his attempts to seduce you had grown more bawdry, more wiley. Abandoning towels completely as he padded around the house after his shower. Spooning you all night so you couldn't escape from his cock, hard and heavy against your lower back. Choosing movies with only the best sex scenes and tracing the outline of your pussy under the blanket.

You wanted to see him unhinged. You wanted him rough, heavy and all at once, his anger and frustration taken out on your quaking body. You wanted to see just how far you could deny him before he snapped and ate you out for hours, just to hear you fall apart above him. You had even wickedly pondered the possibility of denying him on the 1st.

Kento laughed sardonically, still leaning on his forearm against the wall. The cold in his voice sent icy trickles through your clit and nipples, and even the standing hairs on the back of your neck listened as that same cold voice began to speak to you.

"So this is how you want it? You want me begging?" He shifted his weight, and you could tell he was trying to find some relief for his hard cock in his tight jeans. "So it's a team game today, right? Curse-users VS Jujutsu sorcerers, hiding and hunting, using all of your best espionage techniques to get out victorious, right?" You remained quiet, pretending to finish packing, ears intently pricked.

"We aren't, of course, on the same team- why would we be? So all this time, you've been the bad guy, and today we swap."  His voice dropped an octave, and you jumped as his breath ghosted millimetres away from your ear, not even feeling him move towards you. His hand drew roughly round your hip and clasped your pussy hard, making you squeak, "Today, I'm the bad guy. Would you fancy your chances against a Curse-user like me?"

He stepped away, leaving you flushed and thrilled, panting at the threat and promise.

Kento was now taking the suitcase and bags to the door, seemingly unaffected. He called from the hallway.

"Oh and, darling? I think you'd better give me a safe word. Or god knows what I'll do with you once I catch you."

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It was late, nearly 10pm, as Kento drew the car smoothly into a bay, pulling up the handbrake. You stepped out into the underground car park of the shopping centre, turned into a vast playground for Sorcerers, for one night only. Kento opened the door for you, declining your offers to help him get bags out of the car. Glancing round, he noted you were the first to arrive, and quickly began stripping to change into his outfit for the night- a heavy black jumpsuit, cuffed above dense back boots, leather gloves pulled taut, dark glasses, and a black mask covering his mouth and nose. You watched him breathlessly, already in your usual mission-wear; you were, after all, on the Jujutsu sorcerers team, not the Curse-user team. You imagined Kento stalking through low lights in that outfit, and felt wetness pool between your legs, making your thighs sticky with arousal. As Kento clipped his watch back on, a pair of grey vans pulled into the parking bays opposite you, and soon enough,  your excitable students poured out, greeting you and Kento with bows and waves.

Yuuji, Nobara, Megumi, Maki, Panda, and Inumaki jostled around the vans for their bags. Satoru, Shoko and Ino came next, Ino running directly to Nanami, and already wearing his jumpsuit.

Nobara, Megumi and Maki clambered back into the vans, and shortly after emerged dressed identically to Kento. You had not known the layout of the teams in advance, and by the confused looks on Yuuji, Inumaki and Panda's faces as they joined you, you felt distinctly outnumbered. Kento, Ino, Maki, Nobara and Megumi cut an intimidating team. Kento looked you up and down with glinting eyes, pulling his blade onto his back, and lowering his mask to smirk at you.

You noticed that Maki had with her one of Yaga's cursed dolls. A blue felt teddy with large, watery looking eyes, held onto her back, peering round at the crowd. You heard Maki explaining to Ino that, whilst her glasses were great for seeing curses, they were not so good for seeing cursed energy, and so she had been lent a cursed doll to act as a sniffer dog for anyone leaking above a certain volume of cursed energy. You weren't sure why this was important.

"OKAY TEAMS!" shouted Satoru, demanding audience, as everyone turned to face him and Shoko.

"We will now lay out your objectives; the game is simple. Predator VS Prey, but only you can decide which of those you will be. Nanamin! Care to take over?"

Kento cleared his throat, and stepped up to Satoru, now nearly matching Satoru's height due to the depth of his boots, but vastly broader, built.

"You all have plenty of experience fighting Curses, but little fighting Curse-users. Fighting another man or woman bears vastly different challenges and consequences. The fights are rarely fair, in number or skill or intellect. You must learn to conceal your cursed energy even more vigorously. Why? To minimise your appearance as a threat so you may release it and strike to your best advantage. To hide when your only task is reconnaissance, or getting out of there alive."

Kento took a deep breath, "A dead sorcerer is not a lesson learned. That sorcerer will learn nothing, ever again. The limit of their skill and knowledge has been reached, then cut short. That sorcerer will never again save a civilian, a friend or a colleague. But whether you view your party as allies or fodder, is up to you." You felt heavy sadness in your chest, knowing as Kento stared into the students, that he saw only Yu Haibara, battered and dead on the cold mortuary slab. Satoru and Shoko were silent and grave, Suguru behind their eyes and grimaces.

Kento let his words hang in the cool night air for a few seconds. "Finally, the shopping centre has been chosen as a base of operations for two reasons. Firstly, to remind you of the value of your surroundings, and we ask you to fight intelligently with little to no collateral damage where possible. The building has been stripped of civilians and security cameras all night for our use. I trust you will all behave responsibly."

The students nodded sagely, carrying deep respect for Kento and his words. Nobara's hand shot into the air. Kento gestured fluidly towards her.

"What's the second reason, Nanami-sensei?" Kento didn't correct her, more willing to be sensei now if it meant working alongside you. Kento stepped aside as Satoru stepped forward.

"It would be obviously unfair for me to participate. But, I will be invigilating the event, and if you perform well tonight, I will treat you all to shopping and breakfast in the morning. Why else would I tell you to bring a normal outfit?" Nobara squeaked with delight, and the students began to hustle together as Satoru encouraged a battle-cry.

While the rest of the team jostled and dissipated to find hiding spots with their ten-minute warnings, you bit the bullet and walked, more confidently than you felt, centimetres away from Kento. His eyes met yours and your breath mingled, each feeling the sexual tension as you slipped something into his pocketed hand. You darted out your tongue to graze against his bottom lip, and his breathing hitched as you whispered to him.

"In case I'm too good at hiding, I thought you may need something else to sniff me out."

You turned and ran up the stairs into the shopping centre, disappearing from sight, Nanami turned on by your skill as your cursed energy disappeared completely. Removing a glove and fingering the item in your pocket, his ears reddened and blood rushed directly to his cock, as he felt the still-damp lace of your underwear against his fingertips. He licked his thumb clean of your taste surreptitiously, and raised his mask once more.

Kento clenched his fists and cracked his neck from side to side, adjusting his aching cock in his jumpsuit. The last to leave the car park, he mounted the stairs in leaps, figure dark and imposing as he slipped into the dimmed lights of the shopping centre above. Hunting you. Wanting you.

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You sprinted through the atrium of the shopping centre, quick light footsteps on the white marbled floors. All of the lights above you were significantly dimmed, apart from occasional orange emergency lights, flashing sporadically above fire exits, illuminating your surroundings in brief spats.

A plan formed quickly in your mind, as you slipped into a book shop, hopping over the counter to crouch beneath the tills. Your abilities were good, in some ways exceptional, but you were ill-suited to fight those on the Curse-user team. You considered your chances against all members of the team one at a time; your conclusions were grim, should you face head to head combat. Your skills lay largely in reconnaissance and manipulation, your intelligence for tactical battle-planning vastly outstretching almost all of your peers. Only one member of the team could absolutely match your intelligence, and absolutely exceed your combat prowess; Kento.

You shivered in anticipation. You remember feeling your heart stop, feeling the danger in the air as you ran from Kento, leaving your arousal-damp underwear in his pocket. You grazed a hand over your pussy, covered in nothing but your leather trousers, and felt the outrageous urge to pleasure yourself to Kento, alone and gasping, on the book shop floor.

The thought was cut short as you heard soft rustles against the book store carpet on the other side of the counter. Whatever it was, it didn't weigh much, and it wasn't making much effort to suppress its cursed energy. Your brain ticked- Maki's cursed doll. You stayed calm, your ability to dampen your cursed energy one of your greatest strengths.

It would be a great inconvenience to Maki, you thought slyly, if you destroyed her sniffer-dog. While Maki's own cursed energy was minimal at best, so was her ability to hide it, and so, eyes heavily lidded, you felt Maki approach the book shop, bladed staff in hand. You felt her pause at the door, watching her cursed doll amble uncertainly around the shop, knowing that something nearby had cursed energy, but unable to pin you down.

"You've found something, huh, bear?" Maki walked into the shop. She stood considering her options. "Well, at least we know it's not Itadori-kun. He sticks out like a sore thumb. Another Curse-user would make themselves known to me. So is it Inumaki, Panda, or Y/N-sensei?"

You smiled, proud of Maki. You knew that she and you would have been friends had you attended Jujutsu High at the same time. But, you resolved to make an attempt on the life of her bear, and escape her. You were not here to fight, but to survive.

Your abilities lent themselves best, in the form of telepathic suggestion. In a gentler, more insidious way than Inumaki, you could compel the heart and mind of another in any manner of your choosing. It worked well, most of the time, and served well in keeping you hidden. You were not powerful enough to compel another to violence, or drastic choices.

Maki did not find it unusual when she was compelled to check the darker areas at the back of the store, ignoring her cursed doll, who had now started trying to climb the counter. Reaching over the counter slowly, you whipped the bear into your arms, and, muffling its cries with your foot, savagely ripped off all limbs but one, before shoving it in a dank stationary cupboard.

Its watery blue eyes looked up at you, trembling and whimpering in terror as you pointed a finger in its face, "If you know what's good for you, bear, you'll shut your mouth when Maki calls for you, or I'll deliver you back to Yaga one piece of stuffing at a time." The doll threw its remaining arm over its eyes dramatically, rolling silently against a tape dispenser, quietly weeping. Monstrously satisfied, you locked the cupboard, and slipped effortlessly out of the bookshop.

Immediately at the other end of the atrium, you saw a fight break out- Megumi and Inumaki, you noted. Inumaki's chances were good, but he was a glass cannon, and your confidence in taking out a Curse-user soared as you considered Inumaki your ally. You sprinted towards the fight as Megumi's Nue swept down towards Inumaki, who rolled athletically aside.

I need to get down to the floor, you forced into Megumi's mind as he circled above Inumaki on Nue, I need to get down, and physically incapacitate Inumaki. Not doubting for a moment that his thought was his own, Megumi dismissed Nue at ground level, and, about to beckon his remaining Demon Dog to attack, you leapt at Megumi's back and slammed an elbow into the back of his head. Megumi was in no way prepared, and hit the floor face-first, hard. Inumaki took his chance, unzipping his mouth and speaking directly at Megumi:

"Laugh uncontrollably!" Immediately, Megumi began twisting on the floor in hysterics, blood from his nose dripping into his mouth, wracked with painful laughter as he struggled to get up. In horror, you and Inumaki recalled that Megumi can summon shikigami with his hands alone. Inumaki cried out again:

"Hands down your pants!" Involuntarily, and still wheezing with laughter, Megumi shoved one hand down the front of his pants, and one hand down the back.  Now blushing wildly, sweating, laughing and bloody, Megumi dropped to his knees. You high-fived Inumaki and reached into your pocket, pulling a thick white paint marker out. Leaning down to Megumi and ruffling his hair, you painted a large, white cross over the chest of his jumpsuit. Inumaki dropped blithely off the balcony beside you, hanging by his hands from the railings, only his fingertips now visible.

One down, you thought. Moving to stand, you felt your legs swept abruptly from under you, hitting the floor with a crunch as  Maki loomed over you, staff at your throat.

"I should have known it was you making me search that shop, Y/N-sensei. But where did you put my fucking bear?" You grinned toothily up at Maki, pointing to a Build-a-Bear Workshop on the other side of the hallway. Maki looked away from you at your insistence, and missed Inumaki climbing up the balcony behind her, waggling his tongue before whispering in her ear:

"Have a nice sit down." Maki dropped wordlessly to the floor, legs now completely useless, as you scooted away from her and she swung her staff furiously, cussing at you and Inumaki. Inumaki pulled out his throat medicine, spraying lightly into his mouth while you patted his back in congratulations.

"That was sloppy, Maki, you can do better than that."

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Walking away from Maki, who you couldn't yet determine to be truly defeated as much as severely limited, you and Inumaki wordlessly split ways.

Just Ino, Nobara and Kento left. Rounding a corner, you felt a hushed, deep pulse of cursed energy through your chest. Your breath caught. This cursed energy you knew better than you knew your own. It washed over you when he made you cum. It rumbled through you when he made love to you in the dark of the night. And he was making little, if any effort to conceal it from you, confident in his ability to hunt you until his completion.

Stepping into a doorway backlit only by an intermittently flashing orange light, the black figure of Nanami Kento, huge, blade in hand, remained in the doorway for just enough flashes of light for you to see him and feel dreadful arousal sink into your belly. Another flash came, and the doorway was empty.

All of the breath left your body at once.

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When Kento first reached the top of the stairs into the shopping centre atrium, he felt multiple residual cursed energies heading away from him, his head filing them away rapidly- Inumaki and Megumi, front right, Maki hard right, Panda hard left, and Yuuji, thrumming with cursed energy like a beacon, hard left.

Ino and Nobara took high perches among the huge white rafters, watching, waiting.

He could not, however, feel you. He was not surprised; you were very good at hiding your cursed energy, but Kento knew you better than anyone. He twiddled your lace underwear between his fingers as he considered his options. You were most likely to be flushed out if you considered an ally to be at risk, and Kento considered you most likely to have followed Yuuji, the newbie, and the one whose poorly controlled cursed energy would most likely disguise your own.

He took a left down a curved hallway in the atrium, carefully avoiding any traces of cursed energy, on his way to Yuuji. Suppressing his arousal, his wish to hunt you down like an animal, he reminded himself he also had a job to do.

Meandering around a series of shops, he felt Yuuji, getting closer and closer, until he pushed through the staff entrance of a brightly lit teddy bear shop. Stuffed toys of all varieties, from the size of his palm to the size of a grizzly bear, lined the stacks and shelves, glassy-eyed and plush. Kento briefly considered leaving some money in the till and choosing you one, before gruffly remembering you were an absolute brat who needed the attitude fucked out of you, not a teddy bear. Twisting his neck again as his arousal peaked, he felt his cock growing and throbbing along his thigh. He sighed in frustration. Best just get on with it,  he mulled.

Reaching into an enormous pile of plush unicorns, Kento lifted Yuuji out by the front of his uniform. Yuuji yelped, and took a half-hearted swing at Kento's face. Kento grunted as knuckles chipped his jaw, and he held Yuuji aloft with the same hand as his blade, slapping Yuuji bodily across the cheek.

"Nanamin!" Yuuji gasped, squirming half-heartedly in his grasp. He looked at Kento, wet-eyed, unable to make the decision to fight him. Kento scowled and barely reduced his full force as he swung Yuuji at the floor, hearing marble floor crack under the carpets. Kento knelt, knees pinning Yuuji's arms to the floor as Yuuji choked down blood, gasping and sputtering.

"I'm disappointed in you, Itadori-kun. Fight me, boy." He slapped Yuuji again, and pressed his blade to Yuuji's throat. "Gone. You're dead. In just seconds, because you hesitated to hurt me, because you think I'm your friend." He spat the last word at Yuuji, who stared up at him, jaw steadfast and eyes trembling.

"Would you kill me, boy, if I turned? If I walked with the real Curse-users one day? I'd be lying if I said I hadn't considered it, in my darkest moments."

"You would never. I trust you, Nanamin." Nanami sighed, resting back on his haunches, drawing a painty white cross on Yuuji's chest. Kento stood, pulling Yuuji up from the floor, certain he'd at least broken some of Yuuji's ribs. Yuuji grinned a bloody grin up at Kento.

"Go on, Itadori-kun," Kento sighed, disappointed but unsurprised, "get yourself to Shoko. She's probably at the coffee shop on level 2. Get yourself patched up." Kento didn't even have the heart to interrogate him.

As Yuuji hobbled away, he paused in the staff entrance doorway, and turned to Nanami.

"I'd already made my mind up, Nanamin. If any of you turned to the Curse-users, I wouldn't hurt you because I wouldn't blame you. I'd blame myself for not being there enough. For not helping you." Yuuji walked away, leaving Kento in ponderous silence.

Moments later, Kento felt a warm whoosh of released cursed energy, unmistakeably you. He ducked left, concealed behind the shutters, and, gazing out through the slats, he watched as you and Inumaki flawlessly took out Megumi and Maki. His eyes darkened as you ruffled Megumi's hair, touched Inumaki's hands, patted his shoulders.

Jealous of boys, he scoffed at himself. His self-restraint was now wildly out of touch, obsessing over you barely touching him all month, skirting around him at home, acting like this torture was all for a good cause. He growled lowly at the thought of you now, turning away down a corridor, wondering if you were wet for him, wondering if you were afraid of being caught by him. His mouth salivated at the thought of you pinned against a wall in the dark, crying out for mercy and relief as he pounded, deep and long, into your tight, gummy walls.

Kento was fully erect now, and silently thanked his tight boxers for pinning his aching length against his leg, the heavy jumpsuit material hiding his sticky precum, leaking continuously now, sticking to the hairs on his thighs.

Waiting for Inumaki and you to disappear, he forced up the shutter and crouched underneath, walking across the atrium, finger pressed to his lips as Megumi (still laughing) and Maki saw him. Dropping like a cat onto the level below from the balcony,  he landed on his feet and sprinted ahead, directly underneath the direction he imagined you were headed. Finding a fire escape, he headed up the stairs, and, coated in shadow, emerged into the doorway where he saw you.

Cock thick and hot against his leg, he abandoned any pretence of a game. Hungry and quietly seething, he darted from the doorway into the dark, swearing he could smell you on the air.

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You knew your only chance of escape at this point was to lead Kento through an assault course which was big enough for you, but not for him. The biggest part of you was desperate to be caught, punished at his hands for your torment, and everything inside you clenched in anticipation as you felt your thighs grow steadily wetter with your arousal. Another, competitive part of you wanted to win, and prove to Kento that you were determined to see November to the end. You knew that if you sincerely told Kento to stop, he would drop his every need, his most vital wish being your safety, your right to say no.

But he knew you better than that- knowing your safe word now, knowing how desperately you ached for him, too, he fully committed to your plan to not go down without a fight. When Nanami Kento takes on a duty, he takes it on seriously. And his duty now? To hunt you down, and use you as a personal cocksleeve.

You had already taken a running slide under a partially raised shutter, and heard Kento curse behind you, too bulky to fit beneath it, and an echoing screech as he yanked it upwards. By this point, you were well on your way into a tiny service lift, standing room for one only, the door closing just too fast for Kento to reach. He roared his frustration and, eyes meeting yours through the wired square of glass, you watched his figure disappear as you blew him a kiss.

All of your tactical abilities had grown wings and gone. You panted, nipples erect, thighs sticky, thrilled by the chase, and trying, failing to plan your next move.

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Kento paced like a tiger.

If I have to pull you out of a fucking dumbwaiter, I will. He turned tail to the doors and rolled under the shutters, moving seamlessly back onto his feet and searching for the nearest store-room access point. Finding one, bathed in sickly light, Kento ignored individual stairs and instead leapt them a flight at a time, like a man possessed.

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As soon as you made your way out of the lift, you realised you had made a terrible error of judgement. Between the rolling trolleys and stacks of cardboard boxes, you could see only one way out. Above you, you heard rhythmic slams, getting closer, as someone hit each staircase downwards with terrifying force.

You turned tail and ran back into the service lift, hammering your forefinger on the 'up' button repeatedly, screaming and clapping a hand over your mouth as the store room door slammed open and heavy footsteps sprinted towards you, the lift door nearly closed but four thick fingers pushed past the gap and with a grunt of effort turned satisfied sigh, Kento stepped into the space, barely wide enough for a stack of boxes, and now with he and you crammed against each other.

Still clad in black glasses and mask, he glowers at you wordlessly, reaching one finger behind him to press the 'down' button, keeping the lift in place in the dimly lit basement. You stutter up at him, utterly trapped.

"Kento-" you start, and he presses a leather-gloved finger to your lips. Pushing you, looming over to you until you're flush against the back wall of the lift, you moan as he slowly lifts you off the ground with his thigh and knee pressed against the wall, pussy now grinding against his flexing muscles. You shudder at the sudden pressure, unable to stop yourself bucking your sex against his thigh. Before you could plead for relief, he pressed two black gloved fingers into your mouth, firmly caressing your tongue at first, before pushing them deeply to the back of your throat. A satisfied huff came from beneath his mask as you choked and gagged, his second hand coming up to lightly squeeze the front of your throat, feeling for his fingers inside you.

"This is what you wanted, isn't it?" he breathed, low and dangerous, continuing to fuck your mouth with his fingers, gradually releasing and squeezing your throat in time with your desperate bucking against his thigh. He groaned lowly, savouring your flushed cheeks and the tears of overstimulation running down them.

"Oh darling," he intoned, watching you struggle to get yourself off against his thigh. "Would this help?" He released your mouth and throat abruptly, reached between your legs with both hands and ripped your trousers at the crotch, your pussy now directly on the harsh cloth of his jumpsuited thigh. You let out a momentary cry of protest, and Kento laughed cruelly.

"You make me hunt you like an animal just for a good fuck, and you draw the line at torn clothes? Please. Your pussy's going to need fresh air for a month after what I'm about to do to you."

He hoisted you roughly by the hips and you wrapped your legs around him, and now you could feel the complete outline of his cock, straining and pulsing against the fabric of his jumpsuit.

"Put the effort in, sweetheart," he said as he let go of your thighs, slamming his clothed cock against your bare pussy to hold you against the wall, and you humped furiously against his length, folds open and clit rubbing directly on rough cloth. He gasped beneath his mask, and as you clawed at his back and sucked a droplet of sweat off the side of his throat, he growled, low and threatening.

You felt his hands move together, one to grip your throat again and push your head hard against the wall, and the other to rip open your shirt and tear the fabric of your bra to release your breasts. He tugged at your nipples until you mewled and squirmed against him. He felt your arousal seep through his jumpsuit and underwear, mixing with his precum and making you both wetter. Involuntarily, his hips bucked into you, and you broke, begging and pleading for him to let you cum.

Abruptly, he pulled away from you, leaving you splayed, pussy cold and throbbing, denied the pleasure of your approaching orgasm. Kento turned away from you, shoulders heaving with effort, gripping the base of his cock through his jumpsuit. Head thrown back as he panted, you felt lightheaded with the smell of his sweat and natural scent filling the air around you.

"No...no. You don't get off that easily. And I won't get off that easily, humping like teenagers in a store cupboard. You take pleasure in denial? I'll give you denial."

He turned, spinning you and pressing your face against the cold wall, hand still gloved. You were astounded and appalled by his level of self-control, his own continued self-denial, refusing himself sensory stimuli by remaining gloved, clothed and masked. He rolled his hand into a fist and pressed the small of your back.

"Arch. Now," he ordered. You did as you were told, dropping your belly and pushing your arse out, teasing again against his straining cock. You heard a slow unzipping behind you, and a rustling. You cried out as fabric was crammed into your mouth and, tasting yourself and Kento on your tongue, you guessed he had used your panties to clean himself up before silencing you.

Another noise filled you with alarm- Kento reaching to his back and unsheathing his blade. You felt one finger gently tap the side of your head as he leaned forward to whisper in your ear, "You and I both know you have other ways to get your safe word across, hmm?"

You felt something cool and hard rub slowly between your wet, bare folds, and realised with a moan and a blush that Kento was about to fuck you with the handle of his blade. Rubbing lazy circles around your clit, Kento sighed, watching creamy arousal drip down the handle of his blade. He wanted nothing more than to duck down and lick it clean before plunging his tongue into your velvety walls, for you to ride his face until he had you seeing stars. Denying yourself pleasure had meant denying him pleasure, and you knew as well as he did that all it took for him to cum in his pants was you moaning, breaking and falling apart as he ate you out.

For now, he'd let his rage burn slowly, bright embers on black coal, and remind you just how patient he could really be. It would be all the better to lose control with you when you were fucked out, floppy and incapable of denying him any longer.

"Are you going to cum on my blade, hmm?" he whispered against your ear, quickening his circles around your clit as you nodded and whimpered, occasionally threatening to push his blade's handle inside you, denying you as you pressed yourself back into him. Suddenly, inchingly, he raised the handle to your entrance, sliding it through velvet walls and your slick until it bottomed out at the hilt. You whined, and squealed as he twisted the blade, so the nub at the end of the handle pushed insistently against your cervix and sweet spot.

Thrusting it in and out of you harshly, Kento felt dizzy as you shook and whined, leather glove now coated with your creamy white arousal, smells of sweat and cum mingling in the air, and he was overwhelmed for a moment with untouched pleasure and affection, with how well you were doing for him, and he mumbled into your ear as if he were the one being pleasured blind.

"Oh god, yes, yesssss, keep going. Keep going darling, don't stop now, you're taking it so well for me." He groaned into your ear as it became harder for him to push the handle back into you as your pussy clenched and fluttered as you approached your orgasm, tears streaming down your cheeks, so he sped up, reaching round you with his other hand to pinch your clit harshly.

You came with a shout, bliss overwhelming you, wishing it was his cock your walls were milking, your voice drawing out into pathetic mewling as Kento continued his ministrations. Your vision speckled with white lights and your legs shook, seeking Kento's eyes behind his dark glasses. He raised his eyebrows and looked over his glasses at you, eye-to-eye for the first time since you had left home and through Kento's flinty gaze, was a fleck of playfulness as he toyed with you, a cat with a mouse.

Kento hummed, "Too much, not enough...hard to please, aren't you? Oh, keep going my love, because I won't be satisfied until you're putty in my hands." Precum dripped down his throbbing cock as you came again, crying out weakly, nearly collapsing onto the handle of his blade. Slowing down as you rode the waves of pleasure, Kento pulled the handle out and wiped the tears from your eyes, shushing you. He tugged the panties out of your mouth as you coughed and pocketed them, raising the handle up to your mouth.

"Clean it," he ordered, eyeing you intently as you obediently locked and sucked your own essence of the length of the handle. "Not too much," he urged, sheathing his blade back between his shoulders, "I want to smell you on my hands after I fight."

You turned, back pressed against the wall, and Kento allowed it. He appraised his work, you now trembling and sweating, your arousal evident on the torn leather of your trousers, and you begged him.

"Kento, please...I need you inside me. I'll do anything. Please."

"I'm not sure," he intoned again, "you haven't taken me for quite some time, you see. I feel like we need to stretch you out a little, before I wrap you around my cock."

Still staring at you, eyes settled on your heaving breasts, squashed together by your torn shirt, he removed his gloves, one finger at a time. Reaching into another pocket, you heard the rustle of packaging, and Kento deftly unpackaged a dildo and rabbit duo, and a tiny controller that he rolled musingly between his thick fingers.

Hand around your throat again, warningly, Kento gave a gentle squeeze as he stuffed the dildo up with little warning until it bottomed out in you, rabbit lined up with your clit. You jumped in shock, still sensitive from cumming- but blurted out through your tight throat, "Not as big as you."

Kento chuckled sardonically, "Oh? You remember how big I am?" He yanked you in by your neck until you were nose to nose, "Only, you haven't been very good friends with my cock this past-" he checked his watch, "29 days, have you?" He removed his glasses, tossing them aside, rewarding you again with his impassive gaze. His mood was swinging so wildly, he was giving you whiplash. Kento, for the first time in years, seemed positively unhinged. He slammed a mask-shielded kiss to your mouth, moaning into you, and as you came up for air, he buried his hand deep into your hair, grabbing at the roots and forcing you down to your knees, the tightness of the space bringing you face to face with his clothed, hard cock.

He stared down into your eyes, satisfied with the arrangement as you clutched his thighs, and you felt the vibrator buzz to life while he once again unzipped his jumpsuit agonisingly slowly, stripteasing you as first the hard planes of his chest, then his abdomen, then his neatly trimmed honey-coloured pubes came into view.

Reaching the hand holding the controller down, he reached into his underwear and finally revealed his heavy cock and balls, falling hard onto your face. Your mouth watered as you stared up at him, opening your mouth obediently, and Kento's last thread snapped.

Both hands now buried in your hair, and gripping the controller, Kento rammed his cock immediately to the back of your throat, whimpering with relief at the intense pleasure of your throat gagging around him. A few quick clicks of the controller and the vibrator maxed out, strangled squeaks coming from you at the combined intensity of Kento fucking your face with wild abandon and the buzz of the vibrator on your swollen, hypersensitive clit.

Kento gripped you by the hair, slamming his cock repeatedly into your mouth and throat, grunting and gasping as he felt your tongue raise to cup the underside of his sensitive length, pink head brushing against the wet muscle as he thrust, and thrust, and thrust. His head swirled with pleasure, vision thick and hazy after denying himself and being denied for so long, moaning your name, begging to cum down your throat, begging you to cum with him. Head thrown back, he saw stars.

Rolling his head down to look at you, tears running down your cheeks, and mingling with your own saliva and his precum, he fell apart as he watched you play with your own nipples, your mouth tight around him.

As you came again, throat closing around him, he held you nose to pubes as he came with a bark, a month's worth of pent up seed squirtig down your throat in thick, hot bursts. You swallowed, twitching and jerking as the vibrator overstimulated you and you struggled to swallow Kento's massive load. Kento shook, grip in your hair loosening, cock still pulsing and leaping in your mouth as his orgasm drew-out, moaning your name and sweet nothings to you.

Pulling out of your mouth, cock still impossibly hard, he pulled you up to him, pulling the dildo out of you and throwing it and his mask aside. Your eyes met, thoughts headed in the same direction and he pressed you against the wall, your legs locked around his hips.

Kento sunk his cock between your puffy folds, hammering into you immediately, kissing you properly for the first time. Both addled and desperate, you cried out his name as Kento rammed repeatedly into you, pulling out almost completely before bottoming out again, feeling your cervix jump against your belly every time he hit you deeply.

Hair a mess, sweat mingling on his chest, and eyes ablaze, Kento watched you with total adoration as you melted around him, as pliable and floppy as he'd wanted you, eyes glazed as you shook your head and whined.

"I can't cum again...Kento...hurts..."

He leaned close, huffing into your neck as his cock continued to abuse your hole, used and swollen, denying himself from finishing until you came again. His hand coming to rest at your throat again, and his other at your breasts, he squeezed both harshly. The overstimulation combined with lack of air caused a rush that went straight to your pussy, and you broke, gushing around him as you came again.

Kento came again, all shaking moans and pleas, cockhead squirting against your cervix as you felt warmth seep into your belly, both riding your highs, clinging to each other as if on a sinking ship.

Moments passed, panting in each others' arms, and Kento drew both arms around you, embracing you warmly, nose in your hair. You sunk against his chest in bliss, a moment of emptiness as his cock slipped out, and cum trickled down your thighs.

"You were right," he finally groaned, "it was especially good after so long."

You grinned into his chest, nuzzling it and planting a wet kiss above his heart, "And you were right."

Kento looked down at you, one eyebrow raised quizzically. You nipped his left pec, playful.

"I wouldn't fancy my chances against a Curse-user like you."

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

Principal Yaga sat with Gojo and Nanami, reading through progress reports for the students, looking with special interest at the Sorcerer VS Curse-user event.

"So, let me get this straight:

Fushiguro would have laughed himself to death if Inumaki hadn't finally released his technique, and Shoko healed him of a minor concussion caused by Nanami-sensei.

Zenin Maki had to be carried back to the van by Ijichi-san, as Inumaki wouldn't release his technique, as he worried Zenin would stab him to death.

Nanami, you broke four of Itadori-kun's ribs, as he refused to fight you. As he was headed to Shoko for treatment, Nobara nailed him to the walls of a lingerie store, but both declined to answer who was in there first. Nobara went to browse the clothing shops.

Ino was found asleep at 2am in a bed store, and once Inumaki had ordered him to tidy up after himself, he was then ordered to go and play by himself in the adjacent toy shop.

Inumaki settled himself down in the book shop, and sellotaped my Curse-doll back together, which he found inside a stationary cupboard, after it had been torn to shreds by Nanami-sensei.

Nanami captured you in the store rooms after a brief combat."

Yaga then glared up at Gojo, eyes narrowed as Gojo sipped coffee innocuously. Yaga continued.

"And Gojo witnessed none of it, as he and Shoko spent the whole night gossiping at the coffee shop on Level 2."

"I figured Nanamin and his girl had things handled."

Yaga scoffed, tucking the papers back inside their folder.

"So who would you both agree to have been MVP of the event?"

Nanami and Gojo looked at each other. Considering, Nanami spoke first.

"I'd say it had to have been Inumaki. Excellent use of his cursed-technique to incapacitate without injuring, taking out 3 of the 5 Curse-user team, with a little support from my wife."

"Actually," Gojo interjected, "I'd have to say it was Panda." Nanami raised an eyebrow in inquiry- he had completely forgotten about Panda.

Gojo continued, "He stayed as still as the grave against the shelves in the Build-a-Bear Factory. Said he hadn't planned to stay there that long, but he found watching Nanamin beat Itadori-kun half to death so intimidating, he stayed there all night. I didn't find him until 7am."

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

Reader when she runs from Kento after pushing her undies into his pocket:

Being chased down by horny Nanami?

Haha pussy go BRRRR

[thevirtualvalentine]

006. ONE PIECE, PORTGAS D. ACE.

Prompt: Ace’s day just isn’t right unless he pounds you stupid first thing in the morning.

Warnings: smut, unprotected vaginal sex, slight breeding kink, afab!reader, established relationship, biting (only once), praise kink, “baby” as a pet name, servicedom!ace if you squint, dry humping, cream pie.

It’s early, far too early. The heaviness of sleep tugs at you dragging your mind in and out of consciousness. You can see the sun creeping slightly from the horizon but the stars try their best to convince you it’s still time to sleep.

You feel him against you, probably in a similar state of limbo. Warmth emits from him like a soft fire as you snuggle closer, desperately hoping to settle down.

“Morning baby, c’mere,” groggy and hoarse as his voice is, you still find it sexy to hear early morning like this. Ace’s warm hands pull your plush body on top of him like a weighted blanket. He capitalizes off the heat you bring him, letting your knees rest on either side of his hips.

The comforter wraps around the two of you, shielding you from the harshness of the world before the bitter day starts. It’s like he’s missed you since he’s been asleep with the sheer hold he has around your bare back.

You love being chest to chest with him, skin to skin, letting your hearts have a conversation that no one else can hear. Your arms wrap around his broad shoulders while you play with long hair at the base of neck, as a reminder you’re there thinking of him even in silence.

He returns the gesture, the pad of his thumb works circles on your lower back, occasionally drawing shapes or spelling “I love you.” Some part of him always seems to find itself touching you.

It’s supposed to start out like this, soft and intimate as he holds you there to his chest. However, the combination of his morning wood and your obscenely warm pussy just hovering over his boxers makes it unbearable. He can’t take it for long, his need for you can’t be satiated by this intimacy alone. He needs more.

The thing about Ace is, he can’t seem to just ask for what he wants, so he bides his time grinding his half hard erection into you. The hand that used to soothe your back begins to push your hips downwards with every upwards rut of his groin.

Once even breaths turn airy in his ear as he rocks into you deliciously slow. His legs rise up the bed as he settles you on top of him, essentially cradling your tired form to fit his toned warm body. “Need you sweet thing, gonna miss you all day,” and it’s true. There isn’t a fallacy in Ace’s words. It crushes him to part from you day after day like a sick dog.

He wishes he could always lay with you and feel your hands in his hair like some kind of hedonistic freak. He can’t stand the physical pain he feels in his chest when your soft skin hasn’t graced his finger tips in a few hours.

Despite his complicated feelings, your lips meet his as an answer. Your wet tongue exploring his in a hot sloppy mess, desire licking at every inch of your body. The hands he loves so much tug at his raven strands in an effort to bring him closer to consume him entirely. Ace was so good to you, so receptive. Low groans spill from his mouth into yours but you swallow them up readily.

“You’ll miss me too mama, right?” The slow draw of his hips across your folds keeps your clit snug against him, dragging against the fabric. The sensation is ecstasy as his possessive lips suck against your neck.

“Ace, stop teasing me. It’s always you baby. Only want you.” Your body moves in time with his, the grip he has on your hip almost makes you feel like you’re melting into one on top of him like this. He’s just so warm it makes you crazy.

That was all he wanted to hear, the confirmation that it’s him you need. Someone somewhere was waiting for him to come back everyday. Your intimacy somehow always makes him that much hornier. He’s convinced he’s sick and depraved the way he could get off on assurance from you alone.

Too impatient to take his boxers off he only pulls them down far enough to fish his fat cock out.

“Just put it in, please,” you couldn’t care less about the burn right now, you’re just hungry for the growing glob of pre oozing from his tip.

Ace couldn’t be happier to oblige you, loving the way he splits you open when you sheath him. You sit up on his chest, letting him line himself up against your opening. He can’t stop from coating his cock in your slick first, rubbing his girth through your folds trying to use his earnings.

If there’s a feeling you wish you could replicate every time you fuck Ace, it would be how unreal his cock feels sliding through your lower lips. It knocks the wind out of you how smoothly he glides in, like he’s always been meant to be there with his tip kissing your cervix.

“So t-tight.. and wet and so fucking warm every time,” he can feel his balls pulsing already, you’re so snug. “You’re killin’ me here baby.”

This position lets you feel every vein that lines Aces cock drag against your gummy walls, your pussy sucking his dick like candy every time he reluctantly drags it out of you. It makes you lose your mind whenever he fucks you like this raw and he knows it, he can feel how creamy his baby gets when you whine about how bad you need him.

Your head is tucked into his shoulder as he makes a mess of your cunt. A mix of him and you currently leaks down his balls with each squelch of his girth stretching you out. He doesn’t mind doing the work, especially with tight cunt like this; the kind that forms a nice white ring around his thick base as he fucks you.

“So good Ace— oh my, oh my god baby,” you leave soft kisses on his face and neck, tasting the salty sweat that’s accumulating at his hairline. His tan face turning red from desperation and exhaustion, but he moans your name from the praise. Letting his head fall back on the pillows as his dick twitches for release deep inside you.

He needs to cum and he needs to cum bad; hot, heavy, and hard inside you. Ace grabs your hips and stuffs you full to the brim, sliding your bodies up the bed as he grabs a mass of your hair in his hand.

“Give it to me,” you beg. With his hand on your waist and another in your hair, he starts to bounce you on and off his dick. Letting your pussy lips keep him inside you as you slide up and down his shaft.

Ace bites into your shoulder as he fucks your pussy with everything he’s got, he loves to feel like your good boy. Pleasing you with everything he has in him. Nothing brings him any greater joy than watching you fall apart on him.

The sound is obscene, skin on skin filling the room as he pounds you raw. His teeth in your neck burn in the best way sending heat to your core. Everything with Ace was hot, the sex, the romance, the intimacy. It lit you on fire.

“Cum with me mama, please baby I can’t without you.” With his thumb pressed to your clit he eventually milks it out of you, sending the rubber band snapping within you as you clamp down on him.

Ace’s brain can’t think when your cunt sucks him in like this, your walls rapidly convulsing and begging him to release. The only answer it can think to give is spewing his hot thick cum in loads deeper in you. He holds your body flush against his, praising everything you do as he comes down from his high.

Your breaths fall into unison again as you lay there, only basking in the presence of each other. Maybe you both can sleep a few more minutes. Right?

[dontsh0vethesun]

and she’ll tease you

masterlist

emily prentiss x reader

18+: smut; teasing, office sex, boot riding, finger sucking, oral fixation kinda, dom!emily, mommy kink, degradation, praise, lowkey hand kink icl i was thinking about them and salivating from all my lips

a/n: title from the song ‘bette davis eyes’ by kim carnes - this is from a request !! wc: 1.7k

Emily seemed to have woken up on whichever side of the bed makes you walk the path of torment. She, of course, was the devilish one in this scenario, and you were merely the one she was so determined to tease. 

You’d woken up in the older woman’s bed, an occurrence not so uncommon, with the soft pad of her fingertip trailing over your arm and the light smile on her lips being the first thing to greet you. 

Her lips grazed yours with her murmur of ‘good morning’, and in your sleepy haze you returned it as best you could. And, despite the briefness of the kiss, your breath halted just as it always does. She pulled away much too soon for your liking, rising from where she lay with a smug glance at you over her shoulder. 

In spite of the way your eyes were fighting against tiredness, you couldn’t keep them away from the muscles of her bare back, the inward curve of her waist when she stretched her arms above her head and the perfect view of her naked body when she sauntered away into the bathroom. 

She’d let you stay in the duvet-covered comfort for a little bit longer, leaving you to blink yourself into as much of an alert state as you can before work. You were still savouring that last bit of comfort when you heard the water shut off mere moments before she came back out to you. 

Her flirtatious disposition she’d decided to emphasise was in full swing, sauntering to her wardrobe in her underwear, droplets of water still sitting in the contours of her back. Her eyes didn’t shy away from you when she’d pulled the covers from your body, leaning over to ghost a peck over your lips whilst luring you from the mattress. 

And the drive to work left little respite; her hand crept daringly high where it rested on your thigh, a teasing move rather risky this early in the morning. Especially on the way to work. Unbeknownst to you, however, that was her plan entirely. Emily adores you when you’re worked up - when she can tell you’re thinking of nothing but her.  

-

Her hopes for the day couldn’t have worked out more flawlessly; she was blessed with a case-free day, just paperwork and a couple of meetings to occupy her time. So she had plenty of time to fit in some playful torment. 

She watched out of the window of her office at you working at your desk, taking part in conversations here and there. She waited until you went for your mid-morning coffee to make her move, making sure to approach you with the sleeves of her shirt rolled up in the way she knows you like. 

Your eyes glazed over her forearms as soon as they came into view, and your cheeks warmed at the smirk she regarded you with. 

“Want one?” you asked her with a gesture towards your mug, instantly reaching for another at her nod. 

The quiet between you was palpable yet comfortable whilst you waited for the coffee to brew; you shuddered at the fingertips she dragged across your back, tracing lines up to your neck and along your collarbone. 

She nudged beneath your chin, guiding you to face her - so close you could feel the heat of her breath. 

“You working hard?” she smiled, eyeing your lips and the way your neck twitched with your swallow. 

“Mhm,” you nodded, watching the way her tongue swiped along her bottom lip with a movement so slow and deliberate it made your heartbeat quicken. 

“Always a good girl for me,” she breathed, almost daring to let her lips brush against yours yet pulling away before letting you give in. With that, she left, coffee in hand and a wink to you over her shoulder with the swaying of her hips fogging your mind. 

-

She’s playfully scolded you before for picking up your personal phone when you’re meant to be working, but when you saw the screen light up with her name, you swiped it open. 

‘I miss you in here’, she’d typed.  

Before you’d finished a reply, another message came through, a photo of her shirt partially unbuttoned; the black lace of her bra poked into view, and her necklace sat against the line of her collarbone, dipping into the space between her breasts. You glanced at her office door despite knowing there’d be nothing to see, you just hoped nobody caught sight of your antsy state, fidgeting in your chair. 

Emily knows the effect she has on you - how her hands so often capture your attention. She catches you following their movements when she talks, the way her knuckles strain with her grip on the steering wheel. The next photo that popped up confirmed your suspicions of her hellish behaviour, the teasing and flirting, the sly touches at any moment she was near. 

A photo of her hand, fingers splayed on her thigh. The svelte digits served as a reminder of her constant hold on you, the ease with which she can have you yearning for her attention in one calculated decision. You could only think of her touch, the one she’d graced you with only last night. 

You stood from your chair with a huff, feeling pathetically desperate for the attention of your lover; your back felt hot, your stomach twinged with need, and the ache between your thighs only grew at the idea of her. 

You didn’t bother to knock and just let yourself into her office with the door clicking shut behind you and an instant pout mirroring her smirk. 

“Can I help you?” she spoke, leaning back in her chair behind her desk, legs spread with confidence. She oozes power and she knows it, it drips like honey from her skin. 

“You’re doing this on purpose,” you frowned, still feeling hot beneath the collar of your shirt despite your frustration with the woman. 

“Doing what?”

“This,” you gestured towards her seated form and the cocky look on her face. “The teasing, the messages - all day.”

“Aw, has it made you desperate?” she mocked, beckoning you towards her with a crook of her finger. She used the same hand to grab your hip, keeping you firmly in your place with a bashful heat in your cheeks as she peered up at you. “Are you needy, baby, hm? Have you been getting worked up just thinking about your mommy?” 

You whimpered at the way she cupped your clothed cunt, she felt the radiating heat and the subtle twitching of your hips and laughed beneath her breath. 

“On your knees, sweetheart.”

You hardly ever consider going against her command, and right now, with the pulsing ache in your core, you obey it right away. You didn’t mind so much the pathetic way you knelt at her feet when you were sinking into a haze of submission. A deep-rooted and visceral desire and need to relieve the buzzing feeling flowing through you. 

“Tell me what you want,” Emily muttered with her voice deep and quiet. 

“I want you.”

“Tell me like you mean it, baby. Beg for me, or I’ll leave you whining like the little mess you are.” 

“Please, mommy,” you murmured. “Please, I need you. I need you so much; it’s all I can think about.”

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” she practically cooed, nudging your legs apart before pushing the toe of her black leather boot against you. “C’mon, be a good little slut and get yourself off.” 

With a thick swallow and a glance towards her office door, you pushed yourself down onto her; the idea that someone could interrupt made you flush in a pleasurable apprehension. The thrill of it all spurred you on. 

The seam of your jeans hit against your wanting clit with each thrust of your hips against her boot, and you choked back a moan at the feeling. The way your girlfriend watched you intently made you eager to please, urging yourself to chase after the high you desperately needed. 

“You’ve gotta keep quiet, sweet girl,” she uttered, poking at your lips with her fingers before pushing them past. You latched around the digits that hooked over your teeth, gently biting into them to keep yourself quiet, sucking them into your mouth with pleasure. Emily just sat back and watched, filling your mouth while you humped the boot she sporadically pressed hard against you. 

Your cunt clenched around nothing, and you could feel how soaked you were with each stimulating push of your clit. Your hands held onto her thighs for a semblance of balance on your shaking knees, and you felt the heat of your orgasm creep higher and higher. 

“God, you’re such a needy thing,” she mused. “And when anyone could walk in,” she tutted. “Do you want them to see how desperate you get for your mommy, hm? How much of a little whore you really are?”

You shook your head with an incoherent mumble around her fingers, but truly, in this moment, you couldn’t care much less. 

“I wouldn’t dare to let them see,” she added, stroking her thumb softly over your cheek. “Nobody gets to see you like this apart from me - I love watching you fall apart too much to share it.” 

With each word breathed and each snap of your hips you teetered on the edge of release, staring up at her with eyes pleading a silent question. And, when she nodded with a glimpse of a smile, you let your actions grow hurried in a quick capture of your orgasm. Her eyes were dark and blown, lips parted as she watched you. 

It took little more for you to cum, biting into her skin with a roughness she didn’t mind and a moan at the back of your throat that she muffled. Whilst your heart was still pounding and your cunt still reeling from your high, she pulled your lips to hers with fervour, leaning down to catch each heavy breath you let out. 

“I’m gonna have so much fun with you when we get home,” she rasped against your jaw, cupping the back of your neck in her palm. 

“How am I meant to focus on my work now?” 

“Mm, I dunno,” she smirked, shrugging as she leaned back in her chair, and you stood up shakily. “Think about how good the reward’ll be if you keep on being so well-behaved.” 

“Yes, Chief,” you teased, smiling at the blush she always sports at the title. “I’ll see you later.”

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

oh hi big sis hru just wanted to ask for bucky making out w reader and "choking" reader? ((not really choking, just his hand on readers neck 🧜🧜 need that metal hand inside me

big sis?! AW GET OUT THATS SO CUTE!! salivating bc it’s such a delicious idea. thanks for requesting, hope you like it💌

VIBRANIUM NECKLACE.

bucky barnes x fem!reader — smut/ very suggestive

word count. 592

warnings. 18+ bit of a hand kink (self indulgent? no😏don’t be silly) light ‘choking’ (basically just throat holding) mdni

Picking up on hints is something Bucky does best - his prior life as a weapon coming in handy when it came to connecting dots. 

But he didn't need his training when it came to you. Your clues were far from decreet.

He had noticed the recent liking you had taken to his vibranium arm - the longing glances, the touches, that look in your eye when he skims you with his metal fingers. 

There was something so lewd and erotic about it: the coldness of the metal when it touched your skin or just the thought of the sheer strength he could wield with it - just knowing the amount of power he could muster and still be so gentle with it around you.

He noticed it more prominently now. Standing together in the kitchen as you prepped dinner, you on Bucky's side as he chopped the ingredients. His right hand skillfully gripping the knife, his left metal hand holding a potato, keeping it still.

You were supposed to be on peeling duty, but every time you caught a glimpse of his hands, all work got delayed, consequentially leading to him having nothing to chop. So you pass him another peeled potato, watching how he brushes your fingers in the process - his hands purposefully lingering longer than they're supposed to.

Bucky's not an idiot. He could see it clear as day: the way your ears pull back, the delayed exhale in your chest, even the dilation in your pupils. He could see it all. 

You continue watching the smooth, fluid-like motion of his hands - practically ogling him as he drops the cubed produce into the saucepan. You're utterly captivated as you gawk at him, following his every move as he effortlessly glides around the kitchen - watching him place the pan onto the heat to boil.

He gives the potatoes a stir —fully aware of your stares— and turns to face you, noticing that same glimmer in your eye. He takes a step closer and presses a momentary kiss onto your lips, then pulls back, picking up on that hint of desperation across your face. 

So he leans back in, kissing you again and again until it evolves into much more than a few chaste, casual kisses. All of it progressing into something hungrier, eager - heavily making out as his lower half cages you against the counter. His cock chubbing up against your lower tummy.

He tests the waters and decides to use the one thing you've been eyeing up all evening. So he teases his left hand over your shoulder, fingers steadily skimming along until he reaches that part between your collarbone and the base of your throat - a faint, whiney moan leaving your lips in the process. The soft dulcet noise muffling into his mouth.

With your silent agreement, he snakes his palm higher - fingers itching up the sides of your throat until they settled in a light, comfortable grip just below your jaw. His grasp is faint, just merely holding your throat as he deepens the kiss, groin pushing you up against the edge of the counter.

He nips on your bottom lip before pulling away slightly, both of your chests practically heaving from the desperate makeout. He grazes his thumb over your chin, itching higher to run over your bottom lip, the pad outing it slowly - his eyes following attentively. 

"Don't you go anywhere," he whispers, pressing another kiss to your lips - moving away to attend to the bubbling pot.

[miguelhugger2099]

HEEEEYYYYYYYYYYYY

Glad to see ur requests are open. Can I get some kisses with Miggy please? Make 'em steamy, sensual and desperate for me, no smut required, but if you want to add on u can.

Tysm Bee! I love ur writing :)

Oh Boy, Smooching Time!

hello !!! thank u !! :) i love a good simple kissing. personally, i think the tension is sooooo much better than anything. i tried to do this as best as i could !! if u are not happy, as always i can remake it if ur not satisfiedddd ヽ(；▽；)ノ Art: caiabresebun on instagram

Miguel was a touched starved man, that much was clear enough. It showed in the little ways he’d touch you. His fingertips grazing your waist as a silent question to hold you before resting his warm palms on your hips. His arms tightening around you while you rested on top of his chest, one arm reaching down to pull your thigh over his lap. Leaning his body weight on top of you after a long and tiring day of work.

So it’s no surprise when he’s chasing your lips for another kiss while you’re on the couch together. What started as a simple cuddling session, ended up with Miguel crawling closer to you, his lips pressing soft kisses on your collarbone before making his way up.

Your hands curled in his hair, easing out the little tangles in his locks while his fangs nipped at your skin. You tilt your head back while his hands run up your thighs, pushing them apart to make some room for himself. You felt the soft pads where his talons were retracted in and his fingers gripped the plushness of your thighs and hips.

Miguel continues his assault on your neck, his tongue licking up the small bruises and nicks that had formed on your perfect skin. You arch your back, chest pressing up against his and Miguel reaches under your shirt, palm keeping you flush against him–skin on skin contact. Your heartbeat pounds in your ears, arms resting on his shoulders while you keep his head close to your neck.

Still, Miguel still finds a way to trail his plump lips up your throat, grinning when he feels your fast pulse. “Te gusta, mi amor?” He hums, and sucks another hickey just under your jawline. Finding yourself impatient, you lean your head down to capture his lips with yours.

Miguel lets out a soft moan, his sigh fanning your cheeks through his nose. His hand raising your shirt further and further up, feeling your spine under his palms and fingers gripping onto your skin with desperation. You follow the way he kisses, wanting and craving to devour all that you are but it feels endless.

It makes your cheeks burn with just how close he is, his body heat radiating off onto you and the soft hums of pleasure while he indulges in you. The soft clicking of teeth and feeling the curl of his lips when he smiles. You catch a glimpse of it when you open your eyes: a weak smile on his face, his eyes still closed and still under your spell before diving back in.

His hand cups the back of your head, entangling his fingers through your hair. Your arms run down his back under the collar of his shirt and you feel the movement of his muscles while he kneads at your body. You separate from the kiss, leaning down to kiss his temple and cheeks. Miguel rests his head on your shoulder, switching positions so you’re now on his lap. He slowly grinds his hips towards you, soft panting and hushed whines of pleading for more.

Miguel can’t help the hunger for more of your love, his hands leading you back down to his mouth, his tongue sliding across your bottom lip. His wet muscle ends up in your mouth to search for your tongue. Meanwhile his hands run down the curves of your body slowly. He takes he time soaking you in, your skin rising with goosebumps, until he lands on your thighs that’s around him. Miguel grips your flesh, ghosting higher to the hem of your shorts and curve of your ass.

Your body burns with desire, the feeling of his tongue swirling with yours— warm puffs of breaths shared in the space between the two of you. Lips moving in sync, taking eager turns of sucking tongues and biting lips to make the other groan and grind. Your fingers find his hair, twirling the curls at the nape of his neck around your index and tugging on it. Miguel moans, pressing you down on his growing erection and bucking his hips up at the same time.

You mewl at the millisecond of relief, tilting your head back for a breath of air. Miguel is relentless, settling on kissing along the side of your face while whispering más, más. Your mind spins when you feel his kisses leave wet marks from the sloppy make out, the sensation cool against your heated skin.

Miguel grabs your chin between his index and thumb, bringing your face back down so he can reach your mouth again in another kiss. You reciprocate eagerly, shivers running through your body while tasting him again. The sounds of shared loving echos softly in the quiet and dim room—soft hums and hushed declarations of love and desire.

Miguel’s fingernails claw at your back from top to bottom. It makes your arch into his chest—which he wanted. He smirks against your lips before biting down on your lip teasingly. His palms feel your arch, groaning with your pressed up against him. He rubs up and down, down, down, to where he cups one cheek of your ass to nudge you closer in his lap.

You nearly stumble, mouth dropping open to spill moans and growing weak. Miguel doesn’t let you go, taking advantage of your blissed state for more and more and more kisses. He loves the way you roll your hips instinctively, the way your breathing becomes labored—feeling it on his lips for the split moment to breathe. He knows what he does to you.

Your hands that had messed with his curls run down his temples, your fingernails gently scratching down his face and neck and over his chest. Miguel shutters, cock throbbing for those very hands to be around him. “Haah..Hnng..” He whines softly, hissing when the teasing boils over. He can’t take it anymore. You know what you do to him.

Miguel switches positions again so you’re lying on your back. A yelp of surprise knocks you out of the moment—your eyes rolling to the back of your head with a sigh of pleasure when he kisses you passionately again. Miguel fumbles with his zipper with one hand while you stumble out of your shorts.