#his gorgeous chin is broken

[hlorka0]

🐈

[blurboki]

chan who fucks your cunt with his fingers in the mirror after you tell him you have low self esteem. he’d assure you that you’re absolutely gorgeous and so unbelievably deserving of love, but if you really just can’t get it, he has no problem showing you.

so now, legs spread so pretty for him in front of your mirror, he takes his time tracing your folds, fingers toying with your sensitive clit while you twitch in between his legs.

he would force you to watch yourself, watch his veiny hands trail down, big fingers massaging the skin of your thighs before delving into your wetness and staying there, not moving.

you’re losing your mind, so needy for him you can’t think straight. clawing at his forearm, you choke a mewl, locking eyes with him through your reflection.

predatory, predatory as he stares back at you, gaze flitting down to your stretched cunt then to your eyes again like he could swallow you whole. you think you’d be okay with that right now.

“chan- chris- move, i need you to move..” you breathe shallowly, head leaning back against his shoulder to cry a broken moan as as he moved, rubbing your gummy walls just enough until-

he stopped. again.

“fuckkk.” you drawl out, seconds away from tears. what he wants you’re not sure, maybe to watch you beg. you’d be willing.

“look. look at yourself and,” other hand forcing your head forward to watch him disappear in your shamelessly drooling cunt, he presses his tongue against his teeth, feeling as overwhelmed as you from the sight and sounds alone.

“tell me you aren’t the prettiest thing in the fucking universe, ‘made for me my love,” he voices, thumb sneaking up to your chin to find its way in your mouth, pressing on your tongue to admire the glossiness of your eyes—dissolving into the pleasure he provides.

“oh oh shit yes, yes, yes.” delicately littering the skin below your ear with open-mouthed kisses, the way your moans become higher pitched tell him you’re not far from release, calling out his name like a mantra.

your head falls back against his shoulder, nearly screaming as thunderous waves of euphoria pass through you, setting your veins ablaze with electricity. he stays there, perched right against your neck, whispering praises as if he didn’t have you crying his name.

“now,” he quietly uttered, soaking up your mewl when he pulled out, fingers drenched in your essence and chest shaking to catch your breath.

just then, you feel it, the painfully apparent tent in his sweats.

“what’re we gonna do about this, hm?”

blurboki, july 2023 ©

[shaguro]

— ✰GORGEOUS | ONY

✧ synposis: fucking you after date night is one of ony’s favorite things to do. minors dni.

✧ shanti’s note: now that i got all the fluff out the way, i have to give yall the nasty shit. enjoy. 🩷

“look at you, takin’ this dick so good for daddy. so gorgeous.” ony groaned, his firm hold on your neck the only thing keeping you coherent. he always got like this after date night and could you blame him? that dress you had on tonight hugged every curve perfectly, high heels accentuated those milky brown thighs. it was only right that the man show appreciation to his gorgeous, gorgeous girl.

he had your legs by your ears as he pounded into you, filling you up with every inch of his dick. and your gummy walls sucked him back in with each roll of his hips, clamping down on him like a vice. “so tight, mama. f-fuck.” he hisses, sweat beads trickling down his glistening forehead. “you love this dick, hm? love when this dick all in your stomach like this?” you can’t even speak, only broken moans and strained pleas fell from your lips. and ony’s so mean, expecting you to respond when you can’t even think straight. but he doesn’t care, angling his hips and slamming them against your inner thighs, his thick tip kissing your cervix perfectly. he leans down, your thighs sandwiched against your stomach, the new, deep position had tears prickling at your eyes.

ony’s a demon, licking the stray tears off your cheek before he’s babbling in your ear, wet tongue tracing your earlobe. “t-tell me you love this dick—“ a deep moan rips from his throat and it’s so sexy, your pussy just gushing at the sound. “ima give you all this nut, gonna fill this pretty pussy—shit.”

“i love this dick d-daddy, you fuck me so— ony! ohmygod right theree.” you’re clinging to him so tightly and you can feel his biceps trembling, a tell-tale sign that he was close. only ony could have you in such a stuttering mess, trying to keep your sanity as he fucked you into oblivion. the man was filthy, it felt almost degenerate how your pussy was doing the talking for you, singing his praises — creaming so cutely around his dick, fluttering and squelching with each snap of his hips.

“this pussy talkin to me baby, ima give her what she want.” he taunted, canines on full display as he flashed a sinister smile. ony straightened his back, standing at his full height; one hand on your pudgy tummy, the other rubbing on your poor clit and that familiar heat formed in your belly, ready to snap at any moment. his thumb on your puffy clit had you seeing stars, no way you could last longer than this.

and ony knew this, that’s why he put both hands on your soft hips and gave you one final thrust, all his dick buried in your cunt.

you were cumming so hard — clenching and sputtering on his length that ony had to nut in you, filling you just like he promised. thick velvety ropes of cum coated your inner walls to the brim, to the point that it was dribbling down his brown shaft, a beautiful contrast to his dark skin.

ony’s eyes were dark and lidded as he looked down at you, drinking in the mess he created. he leaned down, holding your chin to give you a sloppy kiss. passionate, the both of you still panting from your combined orgasm as your tongues wrestled. he rested his forehead on yours when he pulled away, giving you this nasty look and you already knew what he would say.

“round two?”

@/hoesluvshanti, 2023-2024. do not copy, steal or repost my content without permission.

[moonstruckme]

Hiiii!I hope your doing great I saw your requests just opened and I was wondering if you would mind doing a poly emt marauders with a reader that’s in hospital and they don’t know until they’re like bringing in someone in or something and their like why didn’t you tell us and she’s like oh cause I didn’t want you to worry.Something like that if not it’s fine have a good day!!!🌊

Thanks for requesting gorgeous! Not super sure if this is accurate since I don’t think paramedics usually spend much time inside the hospital but oh well haha. Hope you have a good day too! <3

cw: hospital/emergency room, mention of broken bone

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 827 words

You’re just on your way out of A&E, feeling sore and shattered and more than a little sorry for yourself, when someone says your name. With an odd mix of relief and trepidation mingling in your chest, you turn. 

Sirius makes it to your first. He takes your face in his hands, eyes scanning it over thoroughly before starting to make their way down your body. “Baby, what’s happened?” 

“Hey,” you say, “what are you doing here?” 

“Um, no.” James gives you a funny-looking smile, amusement tangled up with worry. “It’s fairly normal for us to be here, what are you doing here?” 

“I, um—” 

“Idiots.” Remus bypasses them both, taking your injured hand gently and holding it up where your other boyfriends can see it. “What happened here, lovely?” 

“I broke my finger,” you admit. 

Sirius looks devastated, though with the splint binding your two fingers together you thought it was fairly obvious. “How?” 

“Shut it in my car door.” 

James winces and Remus tsks compassionately, turning your hand so he can see the injured digit from another angle. 

“How long have you been here?” he asks.

You shrug, not quite looking at any of them. “I had to wait a while. A few hours.” 

Remus’ look lets you know your sheepishness isn’t without good reason. “Did you drive yourself like this?” 

You nod meekly. 

“Angel!” James wraps his arms around you, tucking your head underneath his chin, and you go happily. You’ll take his mollycoddling over Remus’ reproachful stare any day. “Why didn’t you call us? I can’t believe you had to sit here all by yourself.” 

“I knew you were busy at work, and I didn’t want to worry you.” Now Sirius is glaring at you, too. You snuggle further into James’ embrace. “It wasn’t so bad.” 

“Did they have to set it?” Sirius asks. 

Your face heats. “Yeah. It was pretty weird-looking when it first happened.” 

James makes a pitiful whining sound. “Poor love.” 

“How long did they tell you it’d take to heal?” Remus’ voice sounds somewhat gentler now. He finally relinquishes your injured hand to Sirius, who starts turning it about and inspecting it in the same manner, like the doctor who splinted it for you might not have done a good enough job. 

“Six to eight weeks,” you say glumly. It already feels annoyingly constraining not being able to bend either of those fingers; you’re not sure how you’re supposed to deal with it for weeks on end. 

The boys exchange a look, and James drops the protective circle of his arms from around you. “I’m going to go find Amelia,” he says, “see if she’s on break.” 

You clutch at his shirt with your good hand. “Don’t leave me,” you whisper. 

Your boyfriend smiles, dropping a kiss on your head. “Sorry, lovie.” 

“I think we ought to feel insulted,” Sirius comments as James walks away. Remus only shrugs. 

He reaches for your face now that it’s not hidden under James’ chin, wiping frownily at something on your cheek. 

“Are you feeling alright now, dove?” he asks, and you veritably liquefy at the tenderness in his voice. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You shrug one shoulder lightly. “I’m sorry I didn’t call, but it really wasn’t awful.” 

Sirius gives your wrist an admonishing little squeeze. “You have tear marks on your face,” he contradicts you softly. 

“Oh.” You run a finger under your eyes, feeling your face heat. 

Remus tuts and lets his hand against the side of your neck, thumb stroking at your jaw. “We’re only on shift for another hour,” he tells you. “James is finding our friend Amelia so you can stay in the break room with her until we can come back and get you, okay?” 

You shake your head, and his stare hardens but you say anyway, “I don’t need to be babysat. I can get home on my own.” 

“You shouldn’t be driving after having anesthetic.” 

You narrow your eyes. “Wouldn’t they have told me if that were the case?” 

“We don’t want you driving with a numb hand,” Sirius clarifies. When you turn your attention to him, he gives you a stern look. “You should have called us in the first place. Just let us do what we can for you now, okay?” 

You sigh in resignation just as James comes up behind you again. Seeing as no one has taken over hug duty, he wraps both arms around your waist, setting his chin on your shoulder. 

“Okay,” you tell Sirius. 

“Oh, excellent. All on the same page, are we?” James turns his head to smooch your cheek. “Knew you’d come around, angel. Amelia’s ready for you, so you can hang in the break room until we get back.” 

“Is she going to baby me too?” you joke, letting him steer you towards the hallway. 

“Probably not,” Sirius says, “but don’t you worry, sweetness. We’ll make up for that when we get you home.” 

[1800jjbarnes]

𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬

【Synopsis】: Instead of getting ready to go see the team, Steve would rather spend his time with you and your boobs of course.

[W.C] : 654

-> Genre: Suggestive, Smut, Fluffly

Pairing: Steve x Female!Reader

[Warnings] : Heavy Breast Play, Praise Kink, Steve is a simp for you and your chest.

Masterlist | Navigation

It was like another ordinary day and what that means Steve is laying on top of you with his face between your breasts. His hands softly grip all your curves, fingers grazing over the goosebumps that form on your silky skin. You knew when Steve said ‘little nap’ it was going to be anything but little or a nap. The team was expecting you two to show up for dinner within a couple of hours, but you still haven’t moved. Choosing to stay in this comfortable position with your big baby of a Boyfriend having his way with you.

His lips caught your neck, lightly groaning as his tongue lapped over the bites he left behind. He held you down with his weight, giving him all the time to make you melt. His left-hand snakes under your —well his— shirt, gripping your cover breast. He squeezed slightly, listening to your little whimpers. His actions were slowly getting rougher and rougher. He kissed up your jaw, shifting up so he can hover over you, leaning on his elbows and knees. His left hand still needs your breast switching in between each of them. While the other one holds the back of your neck making sure you cannot move.

Your back arches into his chest, hinting for his hand to whip around your body to unclasp your bra. But he sits up watching you follow his lips in desperation. His hands grip the hem of your shirt while staring deep into your eyes. You understand his non-verbal command, sitting up to throw your shirt off. You lean on your palms perking your breasts up so he and ogle at them. His mouth fills with drool, watching as your chest breathes in and out. He wanted to be slow and take his time with you but at the same time, all he wanted was to literally rip your bra off and fuck you silly just you to watch them bounce everywhere.

But he leans down kissing your collar bone down to the top of your boobs instead. The soft flesh becomes wet as his tongue licks every part he can find. He nips you lightly making you whine. His bite grazing over you, he begins to suck hard, leaving harsh purple marks over your skin. He groans looking at his work, seeing you laying down covered in his marks.

“Fuck you’re gorgeous.” He whispers before locking his lips with yours in a feverish kiss. His patient is running thin, unclasping your bra within seconds, letting your breasts free. He swear he could come just by looking at your body. You are perfect in every way. From head to toe, you are his everything and he was yours. He continues to praise you with sweet nothings while his right-hand palms your exposed breast. His mouth latches onto your perked nipple, sucking hard making you let out a broken whine.

“S-Ste-ah!” You couldn’t even finish his name as your brain turns fuzzy. Your hands land on his head raking them through his thick blonde hair. You tug lightly making him groan out at the painful pleasure. He removes his lips from your chest with a loud pop, moving his free hand to grab your chin.

“You pull my hair like that again and I won’t be able to control what comes next.” He growls out with a smirk. Your just smile back at him, tugging at his hair again.

“That’s it.” His arms wrap around you, pulling you up onto his lap. You giggle out with his actions, taking place on his thigh. You bit your bottom lip watching him take his shirt off.

“I want you to fuck yourself on my thigh while I tend to these beautiful babies here.” He grips both of your breast squeezing lightly. “Now go on, don’t stop until I tell you.”

[yup-thats-me]

—hairpins • Jinshi

pairing: Jinshi x female servant! reader

summary: Jinshi is jealous

warning: none

“Please, accept this small token of love, Y/n,” a higher-up military officer smiled at the girl as he presented a handcrafted wooden hairpin.

Not to be rude, Y/n accepted the gift with a smiling face, not knowing the true meaning of the gift. Maybe it is a consolation prize for everyone, she thought to herself.

Walking back to Lady Gyokuyou and her ladies-in-waiting, she smiled at them. Jinshi was also there, chatting with the concubine with his ever-present smile, but his eyes seemed to be searching for someone.

“Greetings, Jinshi-sama,” Y/n called out to him.

When their eyes met, Jinshi was awestruck. Maybe he was too accustomed to seeing the girl in her usual working attire that he had never imagined her to look so breathtaking in the official clothing of a lady-in-waiting for a concubine. If he was frank, she had the beauty befitting a queen. His queen.

“Y/n…”, he whispered, stepping closer to the girl. “You look…gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous.” He had said when he placed a kiss on the back of her hand.

A deep crimson flushed across Y/n’s cheek, taking her hand away from the man. “Thank you, Jinshi-sama.” Excited squeals could be heard from the coworkers. Even Lady Gyokuyuo had giggled.

“Oh! I have something to give you, Y/n,” Jinshi declared taking out a beautifully handcrafted silver hairpin.  “I got it customized for you. Do you like it?”

Y/n’s eyes had widened including the people around her. “Jinshi-sama, you are too kind. You should not do such things for a mere servant like me.”

Jinshi gently placed a hand on Y/n’s chin, lifting her to meet his gaze. “Whoever said you are a mere servant, Y/n? you know how much you mean to me,” He whispered taking the pin and gently putting it in her bun.

“Meet me at midnight, darling.”

Even if the last part was whispered too close to Y/n’s ear, the people around the two could guess, if not tell, what was told.

“I should take my leave then, Lady Gyokuyuo,” Jinshi bowed giving a smile to the ladies in the back, and walked away, his robes flowing behind him.

As soon as he left, the ladies all surrounded Y/n asking her all sorts of questions, Some appropriate, some not so. The poor girl could only blush and nod until Lady Gyokuyou dispersed the small crowd.

“You have already broken our promise, Y/n. You are not mine alone,” she smiled patting the girl’s head.

The poor girl could hardly wait till nightfall. All the things that could happen when she’d be alone with the head Eunuch of the Rear Palace filled her heart with excitement and adoration.

The two grew closer when when Y/n was appointed as the new apothecary and taster for Lady Gyokuyuo. At first, Y/n had been wary of Jinshi. Avoiding him around the Jade Pavilion, turning down his flirtatious approaches. But maybe it was all decided up in heaven that the two would fall for each other. None of the two could tell when it happened, and before the knew it, they were head over heels for the other.

The two would be seen together more frequently than Gaoshun would like but it wouldn’t be entirely inncorrect to say that he was indeed happy to his master finally smiling. He had seen many women break the young master’s heart, or even just use him. Jinshi had forgotten how to smile. He did but it was all a façade. But when he fell for Y/n, it was all changed. Jinshi would smile and giggle to himself much like a teenage girl in love, She has made him feel again.

When the time came, a soft knock was heard on the girl’s door. Y/n almost tripped and fell to open the door if it was not for Jinshi who held her in his arms. “Be careful, Y/n. I wouldn’t want my darling to fall.”

Blushing, Y/n stepped back. “Excuse me. Shall we go?” she smiled to which Jinshi held out his hand for her.

The two walked around the empty gardens of the Rear Palace. It was truly beautiful to walk under the moonlit sky with your lover. The two barely talked, not wanting to disrupt the peace, their presence next to the other was worth more than mortal speech could describe.

They decided to sit atop the wall that surrounded the Palace, Y/n sitting before Jinshi, his arms holding her close. “You’re so warm, Y/n,” Jinshi snuggled closer to her making Y/n smile.

“Oh you know, Jinshi-sama. I was given a consolation prize by a nice Officer today,” Y/n spoke, playing with her lover’s hair.

“Consolation prize?”

“Yes. This gentleman gave me a beautifully handcrafted wooden hairpin. It truly is pretty.”

Although it was too subtle, but Jinshi’s hold against Y/N’s waist grew a bit tighter. “Yeah? And does my darling like it better than mine?” His voice was a bit more stern.

Y/n was quick to notice the change and giggled. “Are you jealous, Jinshi-sama?”

Even if he was facing her back, Y/n could tell that Jinshi was blushing. “And what if I am? Do you expect me to be okay with someone else trying to take what belongs to me? I’ve actually grown tired of men always pursuing you, Y/n. You being pretty as you are is a curse and a blessing, really.”

Y/n giggled at Jinshi complaining like a kid. To her, this Jinshi was his trueself. A big child.

“Once they know that I am with Jinshi-sama, they would stop approaching me. I think you should stop worrying about them, .” She smiled, pecking his lips.

Jinshi sighed deeply. “There is nothing more I want than announcing my marriage with you, my love. If only...”

And those unsaid words would come true sooner than they would know. It would only be a month’s wait till Jinshi could call Y/n “My Wife”, and Y/n could call him “My Husband,” in front of everyone.

It was all a game of patience. A game they were bound to win.  

[hobies-gf]

Exhibitionist!Hobie x Fem!Reader - nsfw, 0.5k

Hobie always thought you were out of this world gorgeous, and he wasn’t afraid to show it. He practically kisses the ground you walked on. Going out of his way to steal you clothing items he spots while he’s out on a walk that he just knows would make you look so gorgeous.

He’s your personal photographer, holding up his phone to his face will you’re sitting down on the couch, his thumb slightly pulling on your lower lip while he cups your chin, “Say cheese angel.”

He especially thought you were pretty whenever you had his cock pumping in and out of you. Missionary, doggy, cowgirl, whatever the fuck position it is Hobie can’t help but drool over the way your lips part so sweetly, his name falling off your lips like a prayer. You always looked so pretty whenever he fucked you. In fact, he thought you were so pretty that he knew he couldn’t just keep it to himself.

He was never an exhibitionist but that all changed when he met you.

Hobie invited his friends over for the day for the usual smoke session. They pass around the blunt with you sitting prettily on your boyfriend’s lap. Once the blunt comes back to Hobie he takes a deep puff while he taps your cheek lightly, grabbing your face in between his fingers while he turns your head around, connecting your lips and pushing the smoke into to your mouth.

After a while when everyone’s having their own conversations, Hobie leans in and presses his lips against your ear, “You’re so pretty angel, makes me wanna do bad things to ya.”

You grin and move to get up but his grip on your hips tighten.

“Nah baby,” He tuts softly, sliding his hand in between your legs, “Let’s do it here.”

Before you even know it Hobie’s pushing your panties aside underneath your skirt, plunging two fingers into your pussy. It all goes by so fast that you’re unable to stop yourself from moaning. The room falls silent and you cover your face in embarrassment while Hobie continues to work on your cunt.

“Hobie..” You whine out softly, turning your head to hide your face in your neck. He still doesn’t stop.

“What’s wrong babe? My mates are just enjoyin’ the show right?”

Now, Hobie has you bent over the coffee table, front and center while you fall apart on his cock. He’s stripped you naked, pulling your head up by your hair because, “Why would you hide your pretty face angel?” “Show them how well ‘m fucking you baby.”

He’s relishing in the way his friends are watching the two of you. Watching how pretty you look begging him to fuck you more. Watching how you tense up and shake, cumming all over his cock, sounding like a broken record.

“Yeah just like that baby,” Hobie groans, grinding his cock into you.

Hobie was never an exhibitionist but that all changed when he met you.

[cursingtoji]

I am back for more

31… BUT HEAR ME OUT 😩 I can’t pick between Suguru and Choso because they both fit it SOO well so you pick ☺️💕

𝕿𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖔𝖔 𝕬𝖗𝖙𝖎𝖘𝖙!𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔

⊱ fem reader x heavily tattooed choso, porn with a plot, dirty talk, semi-public sex, fingering, a tongue piercing; The Clichés ™;

note: winter i remember us talking about tattoo artist choso and i went feral with it, geto is mentioned but he does not participate (yet? 👀)

tattoo artist!Choso who is heavily tattooed mostly black and gray art. his fair skin contrasting with the dark ink on his arms and neck. black smudged eyeliner around his brown eyes make his look upon you feel a thousand times deeper

choso is a sight for sore eyes

he’s exactly the kind of guy you would expect to see working in a tattoo shop

when you go get a matching tattoo with your best friend is when you first see him, writing something down at the reception and not noticing you at first

his pretty face and deep eyes greet you both with a smile so pretty that makes you forget the name of your scheduled artist.

“matching tattoos…” he looks in a book as you hope him to be the artist, “ah here, Suguru!” he calls and a man with black hair tied in a bun comes to you and your friend.

“thank you” you smile getting a wink back from him.

suguru is very friendly, he asks your bestie questions about your friendship since she’s the first one to get inked while you look around the shop, more specifically at the art in frames hanging all around the walls.

one catches your eye: a traditional japanese dragon with some flowers and clouds around it.

you even get closer to take a better look at the intricate details

your friend has to tap your shoulder when shes done cause you completely spaced out thinking about that art on your body

suguru can’t help but notice how your eyes keeping swinging back to that piece on the art while he’s tattooing your forearm

“you know that was done by one of our guys” he says, “Choso. You met him in the reception” he points with his chin to the handsome man

“really? that’s so beautiful… was it done for a client or something like that?” you ask wanting to know if someone else already had that piece of art tattooed.

“no, not really. choso created that on his own” suguru smirks when sees you biting your lip “you know… that would look gorgeous on your back or thigh” you were already tempted without suguru pushing you

by the time your matching tattoo is done, suguru had already convinced you to come back and get the dragon on your thigh, since choso was nowhere to be seen, suguru himself scheduled your appointment with choso for next week.

“gotcha an appointment” suguru says finding choso on the break room

“oh yeah?”

“she’s gonna get the dragon with flowers that has been on the wall for months”

choso stops all he’s doing and looks at suguru with an empty expression

“i know i know, you’re afraid to tattoo it, client not liking and you ending up heart broken cause it’s your favourite drawing of yours…” choso delivered a light punch on his friend’s shoulder, “but come on, the girl was so cute and she really loved it”

it’s not like choso could just call you and say he wasn’t gonna do it so after another punch on suguru he returned to his station and followed his week until the day you returned to studio

saying you were anxious is an understatement

it would be a pretty large tattoo that you decided to get on your thigh, but the expectation to see choso again played a big part on your apprehensiveness

your artist is already at the reception talking to a younger guy you haven’t seen around the last time

you greet them both and say your there for your appointment, the younger one asks who your artist is

“she’s mine, come on sweetheart” he says so casually and leaves you trying to regulate your heartbeats

choso takes you upstairs to the corner of the room and tells you to get comfortable on the chair after you okayed the size of the stencil

“i need you to take it off or it’ll get stained with ink” he pointed to your shorts and closed the curtain, he stayed there but turned around pretending to organize the caps to give you some privacy

you wiggle out of the article and sat back on the chair with your black undies and nothing else under the waist, thankfully you chose a good one, when you’re comfortable choso approaches to rub some alcohol and place the stencil

as soon as you agree he begin to trace the patterns with you sitting on the partially reclined chair

“how we doing?” he looks up after half an hour, having finished part of the drawing

“i’m alright” you sigh

“strong girl, we can make a break in another hour, then i’ll have finished the flowers” he assures and go back to focusing on your thigh

having a gorgeous man so close to your crotch was having an effect on you that didn’t match the pain he was inflicting

of course it hurt but every time he gets too close to your skin and you feel his hot breathing fanning over the sore area you unconsciously press your thighs together

and choso is not stupid, of course he notices how aroused his cute client is, he has his hand on your inner thigh and whenever your reflexes kick and you try to close them he tights his grip on you to avoid you moving and screwing up his lines

“sure you’re okay?” he stops the machine to run vasiline on your skin very softly while looking in your eyes, you can’t find your voice to answer him “we can take a break now, maybe i can get you to relax a little” he doesn’t need to move his hand much to touch the covered lips of your pussy, when he does you whimper

“i can smell how wet you are, does pain turn you on that much?” he removes his hand to snap his glove out and touch the wet patch on your underwear with his bare fingers

you shake your head “no? what was it then? don’t tell me it’s me” he raises from his stool staring from above while you look back at him with doe eyes “aren’t you cute” he murmurs kissing your forehead and pushing your underwear aside to run his fingers on your wet folds a couple of times before pushing them in

“i need you to keep it down for me, can you do that?” he murmurs it so low you barely hear it due to the other voices on the other side of the curtain, you nod and starts to move his fingers skillfully

“naughty girl, booked a tattoo just to get your pussy played with tsk tsk” he adds a second finger keeping your clit under his thumb

“no! i really want it” you reply immediately not wanting him to think for a second you didn’t love his art

that seemed to be enough affirmation for choso, who leans taking your chin with his free hand, he stops right before your lips studying the little pout you have and how dilated your pupils are

he smirks and softly bites your bottom lip, which makes you yelp but he licks it apologetically

choso feels like eating you whole, the way you respond to him is mesmerizing

“c-choso i’m close” you grip his arm and he pushes his tongue in, swallong your moans cause the last thing he needs is one of his coworkers finding out about this

you didn’t notice at first due to his ministrations bellow your waist but he had a tongue piercing, the cold metal rolls between your tongues, a new exciting addition to an already great kiss

his thumb flicker your clit and you press your thighs around his hand climaxing hard and silently

“good girl” he pulls away taking a string of saliva, you rest your head on the chair recovering from your high, for a second your eyes close but soon open them again when you feel a tissue touch your sensitive core

“wait aren’t you— aren’t we—?” you look down to his bulge, he was clearly aroused too

“calm down lady, this is just the first session” he laughs and gently cleans you and the chair finishing up by placing your underwear back, “lemme finish this and if you don’t tap out or squirm i’ll reward you in the end” he winks before disappearing behind the curtains for a couple of minutes, you take the chance to look down at your skin

it was a bit swollen but you could see that the part he had inked already was perfect, the dragon was halfway done and you couldn’t wait to see it completed

when choso gets back he’s pleasurably surprised to find you looking at your leg with a smile in your face

“lemme see…” a few hours later you’re at the reception talking to the boy from before to schedule your return in order to color the rest of the tattoo, “choso is free next—“

“actually yuuji you can book her for this weekend” choso steps up, just walking down the stairs. moments before he told to check with yuuji while he cleaned his station

“you are not working this weekend” yuuji looks at him suspiciously

“i am now” choso emphasize by tapping his finger on the date at the planner

“hm okay” yuuji takes your information and you thank him before choso leads you out

“you’ll be working just for me?” you ask once you’re out

“yeah but you’ll buy us lunch after i’m done”

“done with the tattoo?”

“done with you” your eyes widen and you’re already excited for your date

“okay, I’ll pay, but…” you step closer to him but not too much so the people inside the shop don’t notice, “you’ll have to use your tongue”

“you liked that?” he rolls his tongue out displaying the shiny round metal, “fine i’ll show you what i can do with it next time”

See also: “who did this to you?” + Sukuna

[sunshine-on-marz]

PLEASE PLEASE SECRET SANTA IN THE OFFICE AND YOU AND SPENCER GET EACH OTHER 🙏🙏

ly😼

Ok pookie pooks you know me so well ILY (guys pls I know who sent this pls I’m not insane I promise)

Spencer Reid x reader

‘How the hell do you shop for Spencer Reid?’ You thought, wadding up the small slip of paper in your hand

You sighed and put your hand on your chin, then your felt something press against the back of your chair “what’s up princess?” Morgan asks, tapping the side of your head. You were quite used to his teasing but right now it was greatly appreciated. “What do I get Spencer?” You ask him, the words coming out half jumbled in your stress. Morgan chuckles “woah there sweetheart, breathe.” He spins your chair around so you’re facing him “he like reading right? Get him books” he suggests, you roll your eyes “I swear there isn’t a single book on earth he hasn’t read!” You pout, Morgan once again laughs at your suffering “you’ll figure something out, now go home, it’s like 8pm. I’m headed out too” you nod and go with him.

A few days later you finally found time to shop, walking around the mall like a lost child. So far all you’ve gotten is a headache, and no gifts for Spencer. Buying gifts for someone who doesn’t really have any hobbies other than being smart (and cute) is proving quite difficult. Eventually you settle on a chain and a sweater vest. The silver chain is simple, but it matched the white and grey vest so you decided to get it. That night you fold and wrap the vest and chain, the silver necklace placed neatly on top of the folded vest, both hidden behind an off-white wrapping paper adorned with black stripes. It was a pretty cute gift.

Nearly a week later it’s the day off the exchange, Penelope was hosting the small get together, you’d waited a bit to give your gift, getting distracted talking to JJ, until you feel the couch dip a bit, turning to see Spencer, with a nervous smile of his lips. “I got you” is all he said as he holds out the gift, you giggle “well this is yours” you say as you set his gift on his lap and start to open yours. At the same time you both burst out laughing. He’d gotten you a white cardigan, and a silver necklace. The coincidence was entertaining to everyone in the room, he puts on the chain and offers to put your necklace on your you. You nod, sitting with your back to him as he reaches around you, he’s so close, his hands gently rubbing against your shoulder blades as he clasps the necklace, then gently reaches around to readjust the small heart pendant to the center of your chest, your breath hitched at his gentle touch. “Thank you Spencer” you smile “thank you” he says back. You expect him to get up and go back to where he had been talking to Morgan before, but no, he actually moves to sit a bit closer to you, his arm gently wrapping around you. “Is this ok?” He asks softly? You nod and lean back into a bit as his thumb rubs small circles into your hip. “The chain suits you” you tell him, smiling, he smiles back. “You’d suit me” he says, both of your eyes go wide, he looks just as shocked as you (despite being the one who said it). “Spence?” You say, your smile and shock both evident in your voice. “Yea?” He responds, he sounds so nervous. “I think I’d suit you too” you whisper, you feel him relax as that gorgeous smile finds its way back to his just as gorgeous face. You readjust to how you’d been before, leaning into his chest while still facing everyone and holding a conversation. Spencer on the other hand is in a trance. His fingers running through your hair, braiding small sections and brushing it out just to do it over again. He’s only broken out of his chance by Emily snapping next to his face “hello? earth to Reid” she laughs, he looks up “oh-uhm- yea?” He responds, attempting to regain his composure. “Havin’ fun pretty boy?” Morgan chimes in, Spencer just sighs. It was gonna be quite the night.

Guys this was such a cute lil thing to write oh em gee

[wordsinhaled]

“I need you” isn’t “I love you,” and it isn’t “Yes, let’s go off together,” but the thing is, it might as well be. And it might be one of the more honest things Aziraphale has ever said.

He has never said it aloud before now. Not like this, with eons worth of raucous indignant feeling crawling up into his throat. He had not wanted, not expected to say it like this, mocked by his own stricken reflection in Crowley's sunglasses, each lens a dark mirror.

"I—I need you," says Aziraphale, and his voice breaks down the middle. It might as well, for he's confessed too late. Crowley is shut to him, recedes from him like a wave broken on the terrible bedrock of Aziraphale's futile stubbornness.

And still, even like this, Aziraphale needs him.

His presence, his constancy. His unfailing, tenacious friendship.

Crowley’s kindness, his softness, his solicitousness under the prickly façade Aziraphale sees is just that—a layer that can be so easily peeled away to reveal the deep core of caring beneath, too entrenched to be deserved by any world they could live in. He needs Crowley’s unguarded gaze, needs the way Crowley’s forever looking at him across distances when he thinks Aziraphale doesn’t notice: chin tilted up, eyes soft as marigold petals.

A phone call away whenever anything or nothing at all happens is Crowley’s dear voice; his lovely dry humor; his sauntering, slithering, improbable walk despite which he somehow flawlessly falls into step alongside Aziraphale anywhere and all the time. His hip knocking against Aziraphale’s, casual as anything and yet so much more than. Flashes of black and wisps of red flitting in and out of Aziraphale’s periphery for thousands of years.

He needs their circuitous arguments, their winding ethical debates—after most of which they somehow end up on the same side, that is, their own side, terrifying and exhilarating in its Promethean familiarity—and Crowley’s chaotically-sure moral compass. The times Crowley is braver than Aziraphale could ever be; and the times Crowley reminds him of how brave he actually always has been.

And Aziraphale needs even the great big awful rows, the ones that end in their standing on opposite verges of another chasm of their own making. Because the culmination of such a fight is always the meeting again in the middle. It’s the low sweeping bow of their apology, a ritual not half earnest for all its facetiousness, which says so much without either of them having to utter a word. Crowley holds a whole conversation in the dip of his fiery head and the exaggerated flutter of his elegant wrists, when it’s his turn; and, when it’s Aziraphale’s, the hashing-out of differences is there in the way he executes each familiar movement with the practiced ease of a faithful courtier, though it’s been ages since he stood in any king’s court.

He needs the knowledge that they always forgive each other. Because, well, they do. They must. They will. What’s a spat or a quarrel or even a proper falling-out to two beings like them, to him and Crowley?

Aziraphale needs Crowley’s happiness. His truest happiness. If that isn't the crux of it all, what is?

He remembers the ancient light of Crowley's joy, how it had shone once about both of them like an aura through the blackness of undeveloped space. It never left, all that bright, barely reined-in giddiness, all that frenetic energy, but he's transmuted it, magpie-like, into something else. Aziraphale can sense it whenever Crowley brings him a new vintage record to add to his collection. Whenever Crowley pulls out Aziraphale’s chair for him outside Marguerite's, or orders just what he likes for him at the Ritz. Whenever he drops into the shop unannounced with a little box tucked under his arm, full of gorgeous petits fours from the new bakery Aziraphale hasn’t yet tried, and says, gleeful, Ohhh, you wouldn’t believe all the wiling I had to do to get my hands on these, angel. You’ll have to thwart me for this, I know. But first—no, no, no, first! The only sensible thing for you to do would be to try them… you’ll like the pear macaron...

And of course Crowley is right. He's right about most things, isn't he, after all? Because Crowley knows him, and he needs to be known, but it simply wouldn't do for anyone else to be the one doing the knowing.

Aziraphale likes the pear macaron, just as Crowley knew he would.

He likes all the things that come along with Crowley, really. The fast car, oh yes, sleek and stylishly classic and so very Crowley through and through, though Aziraphale has committed staunchly to grousing about it. The way no companionable silence held in Crowley's company is ever truly silent. The jaunts to the park on seasonable days: Crowley's touch lingering where he pours frozen peas for the ducks into Aziraphale's cupped palm; the fondness in Crowley's tone poorly disguised as he points out his favorite mated pair trawling placidly across the pond. The drinking together long past the small hours of the morning in the back room of the bookshop, where the walls are the same warm ochre shade as Crowley’s eyes.

It isn't ever so much about the drinking as it is about the together bit. How the space between them dwindles with the syrupy passage of time. How Crowley softens and melts into the settee. How he becomes Aziraphale's to watch, for once. How he grows so wondrously relaxed and gloriously at home there in Aziraphale's space that Aziraphale begins to wonder if this will at last be the night Crowley does not, eventually, get up and retreat back to his Bentley to take himself away again...

There is always that fragile little moment, right after sobering up, when everything in their universe seems at the same time to be entirely too set in stone and entirely too much as though it all hangs by one delicate, dissembling thread. Always the split second in which Aziraphale looks into Crowley's guileless face and remembers he could unravel everything with a single tug.

Yes, one sharp tug on the lapels of Crowley's jacket would do it, he knows. How easily it could be done... Tumble the two of them into one another, just then, and they would never be parted again. And his deft-tongued Crowley would lick the heat and the aftertaste of Talisker into Aziraphale's mouth, then, before it had the chance to dissipate completely.

He could. He could.

It's in those stretched milliseconds, brimming with a tender longing so acute it tips right over into an agony, that Aziraphale realizes: I do need all of you, darling, don't I? So terribly much it might unmake me one day. Never mind Aziraphale's most fickle and blustering attempts at denial, he knows this to be true as he knows the truth of little else in the cosmos.

And perhaps today is that day—the day Aziraphale will dissolve and be remade in the permanent shape of lack.

[solieverse]

"darling," he whispers, ever so softly, the rasp in his voice reverberating through you and making you shiver. he chuckles silently at the little squeaks that leave your lips whenever your hips slam down on his cock as you look down at him with those pretty eyes of yours. for some reason, whenever he looks into them, they remind him of the stars he was so close to once upon a time. something that should be a bad memory but really isn't because you make it more nostalgic, in some kind of mysterious way. you almost make him miss it.

your hands are gripping onto his shoulders for dear life, nails digging into his skin in a way that should be painful, but instead just makes everything feel ten times better. he has a hand on your hip, gripping it firmly, his fingers forming slight dents in your skin. his free hand is wandering over your body, moving up from your clit to your tits, pinching your sensitive buds. he swears he's falling even more in love with you when you toss your head back and let out a long whine of pleasure when he does so. you look so beautiful.

how are you even real? he wonders. he's never had eyes for anyone the way he has eyes for you. he's seen and experienced so many beautiful things, explored so many different worlds in his dreams, in his past lives, but none of them compare to you. anything in any universe that is considered beautiful is nothing when it comes to you.

the way you moan his name is like the strings that play in his mind when he's feeling the rush of his highs, but somehow you're always able to make them sound like a beautiful symphony instead of just a jumble of noise like it used to be, before you. he wonders what type of magic you hold inside of you that makes you capable of making even the ugliest and most broken of things look so beautiful. he notices your legs are giving up on you and smiles at how endearing it is, the fact that you're practically struggling, but you need him so badly you're doing everything you can to keep up your movements. his hand grips your hip tighter, almost enough to bruise your skin, and he moves his free hand to your lower back to help you keep your balance.

he wonders, for a moment, if he knew you in the past life, or all those years ago. he can't really remember since it's been so long, and the memories of when he was cast out of heaven clouded his brain. but it's almost as if he can see for a brief second, something otherworldly when he looks at you, the way your skin glows with splendor when your back arches as you cum on his cock. for a moment it's like you're a real life angel right in front of him, it's such a sight to behold. was god testing him? were you sent to him as a lesson in disguise? would you be gone as soon as this was all over? whatever it was, he didn't care, as long as he got to feel you as close as possible even if you turned out to not be real when he opened his eyes again.

it's almost a relief when he does and he sees you there, still on top of him, panting heavily, eyes hooded, hair sticking to your face. a beautiful mess. the most gorgeous thing he's ever seen. he's so in love with you. he reaches up to brush your hair off of your damp cheeks, smiling and delicately taking your chin to make you look at him, his thumb brushing over your lower lip, the way you lean down to kiss him and smile against his lips making everything feel a little more real.

more real and alive, he thinks. he's never felt more alive than when he sees you like this—beautiful and wild and messy in all the right ways, all for him, because of him. there was nothing better than being able to love you in such a pure way, without repercussion, no matter how terrifying it was, because you remind him of himself before everything. before the jealousy and fury, before he fell from heaven and got his wings stripped from his back, before he was disowned by god himself. the fallen angel was redeemed from the depths of hell and found his heaven in your embrace, in your eyes, in you. you're everything he's ever wanted.

[malereadermaniac]

First move ~ Kit Connor x Male Reader

The two of you were in a talking stage, basically dancing on the line between friendly and flirting, so Kit makes the first move

Male reader not explicit but implied! - Fem readers DNI!

I'm quite proud of this ngl

The atmosphere was calm, it always was with your ginger, *very* close friend

But as calm and comforting as it may have been, tension always made the air feel thick

Romantic tension which was caused by the muscular arm around your waist and your head on his broad shoulders

The film may as well be background noise at this point

Your thoughts were full of ways you could subtly flirt with your very attractive friend who you defo didn't have a fat crush on

Thankfully, Kit was thinking along the same lines, ignoring the film completely and running ideas through his brain of how to somehow kiss you

Your brought out of your trance when Kit shifts slightly, making you aware of the uncomfortable position you've probably been keeping him in for the past half hour

"Oh shit sorry, Kit" you mumble as you sit up, facing the movie as it grabs your attention when some random line is blurted out

Kit remains quiet, regretting shifting in his spot

'Fucking dickhead. He moved now' Kit thinks, already somehow missing the electric touch you provided him with when you were resting on him

Kits slender, masculine fingers tighten around your waist, making up for the previously lost contact

God the atmosphere was suffocating, you wanted to just outright say "date me you dumbass" but you were too pussy to do something like that

As the movie went on, it grabbed your attention completely, so initially you failed to realise what Kit was doing

Which was intently staring at you

It didn't start as an intentional stare, Kit just initially went back to thinking if how to make the first move

His gaze shifting you your gorgeous face in the light of the TV due to his thoughts consisting of only you

His accidentally stared turned purposeful once the ginger remembered a TiKTok he saw

'Pov: when you watch a movie eith a guy and notice him looking at you out of the corner of your eye'

He didn't get it at first, but Kit got immediate clarification after browsing the comments

'OMG AND YOU DONT WANNA TURN AROUND CAUSE THEYLL GO IN FIR A KISS ISTG MEN ARE ALL THE SAME.'

Now he knows that it's cliche, and that TikTok was making fun of men doing this

But the built ginger actually couldn't think of any other way of making a love on you

And trust me, he was desperate at this point to make a move on you

Kit has been crushing on you for as long as you had been on him, which was a long, long time

He couldn't allow this relationship(?) to result in only late night scenarios he would imagine to fall asleep

He was lost in his thoughts for a while, but all that time his head was turned to face you, his eyes fluttering between you lips and nose and eyes and chin and cheeks

Kit was broken out of his trance when you perked up - a result of you noticing Kit watching you instead of the movie

After cementing that Kit was indeed fully staring at you and you weren't imagining things, you start to feel blood rush to your cheeks, your posture straightening up perfectly

After 2 or 3 more minuets, you play it cool and turn to face your close, close friend

"You okay?" You ask him, tilting your head to the side with an inquisitive look

He fucking loved that look whenever you gave it him

Kit liked it when you looked confused or lost - which happened a lot, there's a reason he's the one who uses Google maps and not you

The ginger sits up from his laid back, man-spreading position, his hand still tight around your waist

He tugged on your waist, moving the two of you closer together

It was silent, still comfortable but the tension was fucking choking you to death

As Kit moved his smooth face closer to yours, you liked your lips nervously

You could feel his breathing on your face, warm air making you blush, hard

The ginger moved his soft yet large hand to your cheek, holding your head in his hand as his thumb stroked your cheek

Kit was fucking enamoured by you, you consumed his thoughts on the daily and this was him showing you

Hs eyes moved between your lips and looking deeply into your eyes, it was dark but you could see the passion and maybe even love in your friends eyes as he looked into yours

His long, veiny fingers brushed up through your hair and Kit gave you a look

One you understood perfectly - a look which turned you on when it was really the bare minimum

Kit asked if he could kiss you with that look, and after waiting for a year and a bit for this moment, you gave a short and sweet nod

Kit's lips are the next thing you know, and the only thing you know and can focus on for the next 3 and a half minuets

It was a soft kiss, his hand gently gripping your hair to guide you to the movement of his lips

He tried to push his tongue against your lips, asking for entrance, but when he felt your hand dart to his thigh and grip just a little tightly he knew to take that as a "not yet"

Kit could taste the chewing gum you had in moments ago, he always liked that about you - you always had gum in

He's bought the same gum as you, he's imagined this moment after putting a piece of it in his mouth - not admitting to himself that he wanted to 'taste' you

Once the two fo you pulled away from each other, you breathlessly panted against Kit's face, that same spearmint smell making him feel tingly

The ginger smirked, looking fucking hot in the TV light

His grip tightened slightly around your waist and on your hair

"I like you ya know" he said, feigning charisma but god was it convincing

"Oh yeah? I'm not too convinced Kit-Kat, prove it to me some more?" You respond, looking up at Kit and smiling in a coy manner to tease the taller man

Fuck, there's another thing he liked about you to add to the list.

[rae-writes]

show and tell

sigzai x reader

wc : 0.7k

warnings : nsfw, threesome, poly/romantic

synopsis : Dazai teaches Sigma the intricacies of sexual pleasure, show and tell style

Dazai wraps his own lithe digits around Sigma’s cock, guiding him to your entrance with a breathy laugh when he hears the man’s sharp gasp. He leans his weight forward, forcing every inch of Sigma inside you, hands curling around your hips to make you grind against the two-tone haired male. Slowly- still fully clothed- Dazai begins to thrust his hips against Sigma’s ass, causing Sigma to thrust into you at the same pace.

“Fuck, you’re both so. fucking. gorgeous.” Dazai hisses, punctuating his words with sharp thrusts, panting right next to Sigma’s ear as he rested his chin on his shoulder; the way Sigma disappeared inside you made Dazai growl loudly. 

The sound was sent straight to Sigma’s cock. He’d already been a whining mess since the very first touch he laid against you, but the feeling of your walls squeezing and contracting around him had his back arching.  

Sigma lost all sense of the previous shyness he’d shown as he grinded back against Dazai’s clothed cock, all while the brunette kept mock-fucking him right into you. 

And you, nearly fucked out with your back arched to match Sigma, were digging your nails into Dazai’s wrist and the back of Sigma’s neck as you held onto them both, desperately trying to pull them even closer. 

Pull them closer, you did, forcing Sigma to lean down and Dazai to follow instinctively, right into a sloppy three-way kiss. Your tongues slid over one another’s, breaths mingling and moans mixing; you didn’t know who’s spit was dripping onto your bare chest- and you didn’t care- especially not when you got to witness Dazai and Sigma locking lips.

Things fell into a hazy rhythm for you and Sigma, both unable to keep your eyes from rolling back at the sensations you were feeling. Dazai’s honeyed praises swirled thickly in your heads as you were both brought closer and closer to the edge— 

“Cum. Now.” The brunette demanded, hips falling into a frantic pace as he rutted against Sigma, forcing Sigma’s cock to drill into you harshly. 

Sigma came with a broken cry, curling his body over you at the intense feeling; his body was trembling and jerking, confused on if the pleasure was becoming too much or if he wanted to keep going. 

You followed right after, sharp whine escaping you at the change in pace as your shaking thighs snapped closed against Sigma’s hips. Your eyes couldn’t help but close at the intense feeling, nor could your hands help the way they dug crescent moons into both men. 

Dazai, half delirious from just dry humping and sigh of you and Sigma cumming, moaned deeply before making a mess of his boxers, not ceasing his movements until he was sure all of you had ridden out your highs. 

The three of you fell into a comfortable silence, basking in the afterglow for a few moments, before you began shifting around. 

Dazai inhaled shakily when he felt fingers dipping past his waistband, eyes wide as they snapped down to watch your hand disappear in his sweats, giving a few tugs at his twitching cock, before pulling it back out. 

Your fingers, now covered in his cum, moved up to the space between your and Sigma’s lips as your tongue poked out to lick some of it up, “Here, Sigma…taste him.” 

Sigma moaned at the sight, moaning even louder at your words and didn’t hesitate before sticking out his tongue and running it over your cum-coated fingers, eyes rolling back once more at the taste. 

“I’ll teach you how to pleasure Osamu now, ‘kay?”

bonus: 

 “‘Samu…can we keep him?” 

It was a bit comical, how you looked up at your boyfriend with pleading eyes, cupping Sigma’s flushed face with both hands and kissing at the male while awaiting an answer. 

“I did bring him here because we both had feelings for him. As long as Sigma wants us, I’m more than willing—“

Your happy squeal interrupted, “Hear that, Sigma? You get to be our boyfriend! Please date us? Pretty please? We’ve liked you for so long!” 

A bit speechless, but utterly thrilled at having his feelings reciprocated, Sigma nods dumbly with a dopey little grin, “Yes, please…”

[turcott3]

pov

juraj slafkovský x fem! reader

warnings?: angst, sadness, unprotected sex, p in v, and fluff

positions fics masterlist

~oh, ‘cause nobody ever loved me like you do, i’d love to see me from your point of view~

-

you sat on the edge of the bed and stared down at your bare nails. one of the wives invited you to go with all of them to get your nails done, to which you hesitantly said yes. though it wasn’t exactly in your budget, you still agreed to go and bond with them.

“so what are your plans today baby?” juraj asks stepping out of the bathroom, brushing his teeth.

“the girls invited me to go get my nails done, i’m going but i won’t get anything i haven’t gotten paid yet.” you say making broken eye contact with the boy.

“one second.” he says re-entering the bathroom so finish brushing his teeth before exiting the bedroom. in your previous relationship, your boyfriend never helped you. he would poke and tease at things that weren’t funny, comment on your body and you weight, tell you how to act and went so far as to hit you from time to time. truth be told, getting back into a relationship scared you because you thought all those things would happen once again no matter who you were with. the last 4 months with juraj had been hard for you. he made you happy and was always kind but the voice in the back of your head always told you to keep him at arms length, no matter your label.

“here, take my card and get whatever you want.” he said re-entering the room, holding his card out for you to take.

“are you sure?” you replied softly.

“yes baby, get whatever you want. it’s on me i promise.” he says again, shutting his wallet and tossing it on his nightstand.

“thank you.”

“of course, i don’t want you to sit there and be left out.” he says kissing you on the head while he collected his clean clothes off the bed next to you. the way he made your heart dance was an all new feeling to you. every time he touched you it was like a butterfly sanctuary busted loose in your abdomen, every time he spoke highly of you, you felt like it wasn’t real.

“i better go, i don’t wanna be late.” you say checking the clock and standing up off the bed, grabbing your purse from the dresser.

“have fun, text me when you get there safe.” he calls from the room as you exit the apartment.

-

“so how’s everything with slaf?” arber’s girlfriend asks.

“oh he’s been great, he’s such a sweetheart.”

“he is, me and arber are very glad he has someone to love. he has such a big heart he deserves someone as beautiful as you.” she smiles at you.

“awe thank you steph.” you smile lightly, not being able to even accept the compliment in your mind. you’d never felt beautiful, you felt cute from time to time, but never beautiful. after two long hours, you were finally able to leave which relieved you. you didn’t feel like you fit in. all the wives and girlfriends were so beautiful and kind and radiant. none of those things fit you, or so you thought. you entered your apartment to see slaf still in bed watching tv.

“i’m home.” you say catching his attention. he gets up and shuffles into the entryway.

“let me see let me see.” he says asking to see your nails. you picked a simple red design on nude nails, considering it was now february it felt right.

“do you like?” you ask.

“they’re gorgeous. i love them.” he smiles widely at you kissing your hands before placing two gentle fingers under your chin pressing a short kiss to your lips, which you gladly accepted.

“thank you.” you blush, a full smile never cracking your face.

“what’s wrong?” he says noticing your shift in demeanor.

“it’s nothing.” you say pushing past him to enter the bedroom, grabbing your pajamas.

“it’s not nothing.” he says following hot on your heels.

“j, it’s fine.”

“baby tell me.” he says grabbing onto your biceps and pulling you closer.

“i don’t deserve you.”

“what do you mean?” he says, a look of confusion taking over.

“all the other girlfriends and wives, they’re so beautiful and funny and kind, i don’t feel like i fit in with them. it’s like they always are put together, have money, happiness and like they just do everything so effortlessly.” you say, failing to hold back the waterfall behind your eyes.

“no my love.” he says wrapping you up in his arms tightly, rocking you back and forth.

“i don’t deserve you.” you repeat.

“you deserve more than me actually. i feel every emotion you feel everyday. i know you’re scared, i know you don’t feel any of these things about yourself but you don’t see yourself from my point of view.” he states.

“what?”

“you’re so gorgeous and sweet and smart and thoughtful. you make everyday so much brighter for me. i was so lonely when i first came to montreal and you’ve flipped my world upside down. you make everything better y/n.” he says and all you can do it cry. you have no response.

“i don’t know what to say j.”

“you don’t need to say anything, let’s run us a shower and get into our pajamas for a movie night okay?”

“okay.” you simply replied smiling lightly. the two of you stepped into the bathroom, him turning the knob of the shower to warm. you slowly stripped down, suddenly feeling very aware of your body. you hugged yourself hiding your chest and stomach while slaf stripped down in front of you. he finally looks up at you, eyes showing the sadness he felt at you stance.

“stop hiding, you’re beautiful.” he says pulling your arms away from your body. he reaches into the shower to feel the water finally warm. he steps in, lending you a hand in assistance. he pulls you under the water with him as you laid your head on his chest and arms wrapped around his waist. his hands wandering their way down your back, landing firmly on your ass.

“juraj?”

“yes?” he replies as the two of you lock eyes. you say nothing and simply reach a hand to the back of his neck pulling his lips to yours anxiously. his hands moved up your back as he pulled you impossibly closer to him. you pulled away, placing your hands on his chest as your body is flush against his. the look in his eyes read far more than lust.

“let me love you y/n.” he says, running a delicate thumb across your cheekbone, his eyes locked on yours. your hand found his way on top of his as you smiled.

“i will.” you reply quietly. he reattaches your lips hastily, giving you a light tap on the ass. you jump, latching your legs around his hips, not once losing contact. the sexual tension in the room rising quickly. lifting your hips, he pushes himself inside you, burying his face in your neck. you moan out in pleasure as his tip hit the sweet spot deep inside you. he used his arms to guide you as you moved up and down on his dick at a consistent pace, losing your breath quickly. you wrapped your arms around his neck placing your head in his shoulder, trying not to deafen the brunette with your moans. at this rate it wouldn’t take you long to finish. noticing you clenching around him, he picks up his pace.

“so beautiful y/n.” he says breathlessly as you slap a hand on the wall for better stability as your skin slapped against each other. he made you feel things you’d never experienced. your eyes squeeze shut as you begin to see stars, knowing you were nearing your witts end. you feel all of your muscles relax suddenly, your legs becoming shaky at the sensation as he buries his own climax deep inside you. the two of you slowly come to a stop, him not placing you back on the ground just yet. you lift your head off his shoulder dazily and he kisses you lovingly.

“that was amazing.” you giggle, pulling him out of you.

“yeah it was.” he laughs setting you back down.

“i love you so much.” he simply says causing your heart to flutter.

“i love you too slaf.” you smile finally grabbing some kind of soap.

“might as well make use of the shower.” you giggle, pouring shampoo into both of your hands. once the two of you are out of the shower and changed you’re found nowhere other than your bed, wrapped up in each other.

“so how do you feel now?” he asks, his thumb lightly stroking your side.

“i feel a little better.” you say.

“how so?” he pries.

“i feel beautiful and i feel wanted.”

“that’s because both are true my love. if you ever don’t feel okay please come to me. i’m here for you always.”

“okay.” you say, fighting sleep to the sound of his rhythmic heartbeat.

-

[0and0its0doctor0]

Lipstick smeared accidents

Aaron Hotchner X Fem! Reader

Summary: When Aaron is checking over an injury on you he just can't help himself.

Warnings: Heavy making out, mentions of getting shot in the bullet proof vest.

WC: 584

“What were you thinking?” Aaron asked, arms folded across his chest, anger clear in his voice. You shrugged and he tugged you behind the line of SUV’s out of view of the FBI and the local police department. “I was thinking that we needed to take down the unsub.” You said tugging your arm out of his grasp and rubbing at the red mark his fingers left. “So you decided to let him use you as target practice?” He asked gesturing to where your bullet proof vest had taken the impact of the bullet. The pain was starting to set in but you weren’t going to show it. No one told you when you were in the academy that getting shot in the vest still hurt like a bitch. His fingers were quick as he started undoing your vest and he pulled it off dropping it to the ground. “Take your shirt off.” He commanded and you felt your throat get tight. “I’m sorry. I just hallucinated. What?” You were certain you heard him wrong. “I said take your shirt off.” His tone was annoyed and you glanced around making sure no one was watching as you tugged off your t-shirt leaving you in the sports bra you were wearing for the day. 

You followed his gaze to your stomach where a red mark was spreading and you knew there was going to be a nasty bruise. His fingers were gentle as they touched your skin and he felt around the area. “I don’t think anything is broken.” You noticed his fingers hesitated against your skin, dragging across your abdomen. You couldn’t take it. Him in that stupid vest. His fingers on your skin. You surged forward and captured his lips in a frantic kiss. He let out a small yelp of surprise then quickly pulled you roughly against his body kissing you back just as frantically. His hands were all over you, tracing every inch of your skin that he could get to. He kissed down your chin and your neck, sucking a dark mark into the curve of your shoulder and it had you groaning softly. His hands were firm on your hips but when you winced he stopped, pulling away and panting heavily. “I’m sorry. I got carried away.” He ran a hand through his tousled hair and you felt your cheeks heat up bright red. “No…it’s okay.” You grabbed your shirt as he handed it back to you. “I’m just a little sore.” You admitted with a bit of a frown. 

You quickly pulled your shirt back on. “Well stop by my room when we get back to the hotel and I’ll take a better look?” It was a question more than a statement. You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. “Yes sir.” You noticed his jaw tick when you called him sir and you looked down to see the growing tent in his pants. You couldn’t believe you had this effect on your gorgeous recently divorced boss but here you were. He cleared his throat when Derek stepped around the corner and raised an eyebrow at the two of you. “Hey boss, medics wanna check her out.” He said with a smirk. Aaron nodded. “Yes of course.” He placed his hand on your lower back and gently guided you in that direction. Derek stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, “Her lipstick is on your chin.” He said with a chuckle as he walked away. 

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Don't Kill My Vibe

Title: Don’t Kill My Vibe

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Clark Kent x BestFriend!Black!Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.7K

Summary: You help Clark ease the pain of his broken heart.

Warnings: mention of a breakup, recreational drug use (marijuana), friends-to-lovers trope, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p-in-v sex, creampie, mention of bodily fluids

A/N: This is an AU where Clark Kent is not superpowered and Superman does not exist. Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.

Dividers by me

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist

It wasn’t the first time Clark asked to try some bud, but it was the most pathetic. His gorgeous blue eyes were puffy from crying over that woman. As much as you wanted to say, “I told you so," you didn’t want him to feel any worse about the failed relationship with his reporter beau, Lois Lane.

And yet again, you think to yourself, ‘Fuck Lois Lane’.

When he showed up at your place an hour ago in sweatpants, sneakers, and a button-up pullover, you were surprised to see he opted for something other than his normal flannel and jeans. His hair was mussed, and he avoided eye contact with you. Something was wrong.

You dragged him into your apartment, turning down your Spotify playlist on the Bluetooth speakers so you could talk over the mellow tunes. While you flopped down on your couch, Clark sat down slowly and sighed.

You were already elevated, having taken a couple of puffs from your blue and red glass bowl earlier, so you were struggling to pay attention to everything he was saying. You tried to put on your “I’m not high” face and nod enough, saying “Oh wow” occasionally. But, in actuality, your eyes were as red as the Devil’s dick, and Clark wasn’t stupid.

His eyes looked from yours to the tray on the coffee table that held your various assortments of smoking apparatus, grinder, lighter, and stash box. Leaning forward so his elbows rested on his knees, he motioned his chin toward everything and said, “I know you’ve said no a million times, but I could use an escape. And before you say no again, know I’ve tried all the tricks in the book to get over somebody, and nothing is working.” 

“I have a feeling there’s another thing you haven’t tried either, but whatever,” you rattled on, waving off his confused expression. “Fine. It should be illegal for you to use those puppy eyes when asking me for something, by the way.”

So here you are, preparing a strawberry cone for you and Clark to share. You were always weird about people using your favorite bowl. You also figure that for a first-timer, it would be the easiest for him to start with. Twisting the end after filling the cone, you reach for the lighter and ashtray.

“First things first,” you purr, using your phone to turn the music up. “Now, watch what I do. I’m going to draw the smoke into my mouth and then hold it for a few seconds, or as long as I can, before blowing it back out. Ready?”

Clark nods as he turns toward you, tucking one leg under the other. Now that you have his full attention, you suddenly feel flustered. Casting your eyes downward, you take the cone into your mouth and light the end. You inhale deeply and take it out of your mouth. Savoring the citrus flavor of the strain, your tongue licks your lips, and you exhale. 

You close your eyes and take a few breaths. After a moment, you hear Clark’s voice breaking through your haze: “Everything good?”

Your eyes pop open, and just like nothing happened, you perk up. Handing him the cone, you blink as he holds it like someone who has never smoked. You’ve known Clark long enough that you have a suspicion that is probably true for him. 

He’s polite, almost to a fault. He screams Boy Scout, altar boy, and ‘promise ring’ all at the same time. What can you say? Clark was a good boy. And you were getting him high. You little devil! 

Clark takes a short pull from the pink-colored joint and manages to hold it for about two seconds, then attempts to exhale. A small plume escapes his mouth, he inhales sharply and has a coughing fit. You take the joint back before he drops it and sit it in the ashtray.

Rubbing his back, you try to talk him through catching his breath. You grab your water bottle and hold the straw to his mouth when he nods his thanks. He sips the water, then clears his throat loudly, burping up a bit of smoke. He laughs quickly as he sees it exit his mouth, reminding you of a little surprised dragon.

“That was fun,” he sputters, his voice deeper than usual.

“It gets easier, Clark. Trust me, coughing is normal. And most of the time, coughing gets you higher,” you laugh, picking up the joint to take another hit.

You inhale, exhaling into the air, and hold it out for Clark to take again. He sips from your water bottle and gives it to you in exchange for the joint.

Holding it between two fingers, he brings it to his lips. You watch his mouth curl around the tip, and your brain conjures up the vision of what else that boy’s mouth can do. He takes the joint out of his mouth, holding his breath for a few seconds, then blows it out slowly. He gives it back to you and leans back against the couch.

“I don’t think I feel any different yet. How long does it take to kick in?” he asks, crossing his arms and pouting.

It being his first time, he is completely unaware that he is already high. His body language is different; Clark Kent doesn’t slouch even a little. He also certainly doesn’t fidget; his hands suddenly become very interested in the material of his pullover.

“You’ll feel it sooner than you think,” you mumble, the joint between your lips as you speak.

Twenty minutes later, Clark tells you exactly what the last straw was that ended his relationship with Lois. He pauses to take a hit, handing it back to you as he exhales. “But it was always whatever she wanted. I treat her like a queen. And she goes and blows Jimmy-fucking-Olsen. Then she lies about it after Jimmy comes clean to me. I…,” he trails off, looking over at you and shaking his head as he laughs.

“What?” you question when you realize he stops talking.

“Nothing. I just… I think I’m high,” he giggles, the corners of his eyes wrinkling when he smiles at you.

“Besides being high, can you describe how you feel?” You press, wanting to know just how high he is.

“I feel lighter. Clear…er? Is it clearer or more clear? Whatever. I think I also just figured out how I want to finish that article on The Wayne Foundation,” he explains, leaning back so he is lying on his back with his head on your lap. “Is this ok? Your lap looked so comfortable,” he wonders aloud, looking up at you.

That’s when you realize three fundamental truths at the same time. 

1. Clark is single. 

2. Clark is literally in your lap.

3. The crush you have on Clark is swiftly turning into lustful infatuation.

Bringing yourself back to the present, you smile at him and say, “Yeah, of course it’s ok.” You focus on the heat radiating from your best friend as he makes himself comfortable so close to your thirsty pussy. 

“You are the best,” he replies, closing his eyes as your hand finds its way into his curls.

“This cool?” you dare, hoping that you can continue to push the boundary between friendship and something more.

As if the groan from the back of his throat wasn’t enough, he voices his satisfaction. “More than cool. I love having my hair played with. Feel free to go to town on me.”

Oh, the importance of phrasing.

This man is not going to make it easy on you.

You’re explaining to Clark about that episode of Bob’s Burgers where Bob and Linda accidentally get high after eating cookies laced with marijuana at their accountant’s office. “So, anyway. Bob, Linda, and the accountant build a pillow fort from the cushions on his couch, and somehow it makes them feel safer which I get because pillow forts were the height of safety when we were kids. And sometimes, people feel safer thinking about the simplicity of their childhood,” you rattle on, leaning forward to grab your water bottle and forgetting about Clark’s head, which is still very much in your lap.

An oomph is spoken into your boobs, and you shoot straight up to a standing position and knock Clark off your lap and onto the floor. 

“Shit!” he cries from his spot on the floor.

“Fuck, Clark! I’m so sorry! Are you ok?” You cringe, your hand touching your forehead as you watch him pull himself up.

“Hey, hey. It’s cool, I’m fine,” he reassures, his hand grabbing yours to take it away from your face. With the other hand, he grabs your chin between his thumb and forefinger. Tilting your head up, he smiles and counters, “Are you ok?”

Yeah. Fine. My tits were just thrust into your face for a bit there. Oh, and you have no idea that I like you. And that pesky curl is falling into your pretty eyes again. And your handsome face is close enough to-

One second, you’re staring at his smile; the next second, you’re attacking his mouth with yours. His lips are just as pillowy and soft as they look. At first, the kiss is timid. Surprise gives way to need as he deepens the kiss. His tongue seeks solace as it slides against the seam of your lips. Granting him entry, he licks into your mouth like an explorer discovering new lands. 

His hands find their way to your hips, bringing you impossibly close. He feasts on every whimper that leaves you, peppering in some moans of his own. This is the kiss of a man waiting for a moment like this. At least, that’s how it feels.

Begrudgingly, you slowly break away from Clark. His kiss-swollen pink lips beg to be reunited with yours, but you must prove this is real. You look up into his dilated eyes, noting how blue is almost completely taken over by black. 

You open your mouth to speak, but Clark beats you to it.

“Unless you are about to tell me you don’t want this, please just kiss me again,” he breathes, resting his forehead against yours. “I don’t know what’s more intoxicating. This drug or having you so close to me.”

Instead of worrying about what this means, you throw caution to the wind. Tilting your head, you slot your lips with his, devouring the subtle whimper that escapes him. From nervous to commanding, you feel Clark’s demeanor change as his hands wander over your body.

He picks you up by the waist, your legs instinctually wrapping around him. With you in his arms, he walks blindly to your bedroom. Once he lays you down, he covers your body with his. The hard length against your mound gives you pause, but you quickly recover as you angle your hips to meet his.

Clark breaks the kiss to sit up and remove his pullover and shirt. A pink hue dusts his cheeks as he watches you scan his torso while you bite your lip. Leaning down, he tugs at the hem of your shirt, wanting you to get rid of it. 

You oblige, now topless in front of your best friend for the first time. You don’t have time to freak out over that information because Clark hooks his fingers in your leggings, his eyes begging for permission. You raise your hips, and he pulls them down your legs along with your underwear. 

You sit up as he chucks his sweatpants, his heavy erection now visible. Your first thought is, “Now that is a pretty dick.”

“Thank you,” he says, a smirk playing on his lips.

“I said that out loud, didn’t I?” You wonder aloud, already knowing the answer.

Clark smiles, nodding at you before coaxing you to lay back. He sinks between your legs, holding them open to kiss your thighs. He teases you a bit, licking and nipping at your mound and outer labia until you wiggle your hips and whine. 

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Patience, please,” he cautions, shaking his head at you. He winks at you, diving fully into your snatch and sucking your clit between his lips. 

You throw your head back in ecstasy as his tongue slides over your swollen button. Humming while sucking on your nub is a fucking power move, and your hands tangle in his hair. You dig your heels into his back as he laps up the juices that accumulate at your entrance. Looking down at him as he worships at the altar of your body, you are taken aback as he peeks up at you over your mound.

With your eyes locked on each other, he watches as he tips you right over the edge. He groans into your pussy, his mouth and chin soaked, as your walls contract around nothing. The euphoria of being high mixes with the joy of being with someone new for the first time.

But this isn’t just anybody; this was your best friend. Warmth and comfort exist between you, allowing you to feel safe enough to fall and that Clark will catch you.

You come down as he plants a kiss on your mound, grazing his lips up your tummy. When he is back above your face, he runs the tip of his dick across your wet folds. He maintains eye contact while he slides in for the first time. 

Once he is fully seated inside you, he lets you adjust to his size before he withdraws slightly and thrusts forward. The wet squelch of your pussy and the smack of your bodies against one another are music to your ears. Clark’s grunts as he fucks into you only fuel your impending second climax.

“Fuck, you feel so good. Too good. Not going to last long,” he warns, sitting up on his knees as his hands go to your waist. Throwing his head back, he growls and picks up the pace, using your body like his personal fucktoy.

Your back arches as he repeatedly hits that hidden bundle of nerves. A searing fire erupts in your belly as your cunt clamps down on his dick, spasming and coating it with your cream.

“Good girl! That’s it. Fucking come for me, just like that,” he encourages. “Oh, shit. I’m right fucking behind you. Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuuuck.”

You lock your legs around his waist, keeping him right where he is as his dick spasms and fills you to the brim. Your hands smooth down his big chest, feeling the muscles ripple as he comes down from what is probably the most intense orgasm he has ever felt. He stills soon enough, breathing back to normal as his softening length slips from you.

Flopping down next to you, Clark wraps an arm around you. You curl into his side, an arm across his stomach, and a leg thrown over his. Contented silence fills the room as you both take in this unforeseen turn of events.

Clark’s hand makes idle patterns on your back as you lay on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. You close your eyes for only a moment, missing Clark smiling at you. He gives you a quick peck on the top of your head, causing you to tilt your head to meet his eyes.

“You hungry?” you guess, feeling a bit peckish yourself.

“Yes!” he exclaims.

“Good. I know a great place down the street that makes the best samosas. Does Indian food sound good?” you ask, already tasting the rich spices of the food.

“Sounds perfect,” he says, picking up his arm to let you get up from the bed to grab your phone, watching your hips sway as you walk out to the other room.

Once back in bed, you order various dishes for the both of you. While you wait for the food, you pass a joint back and forth and steal a kiss or two. You decide there is plenty of time for you and Clark to talk. There is no use in killing the vibe for heavy stuff.

With the way Clark is looking at you, there’s not much to talk about anyway. 

🍃The End🍃

A/N: I would love to know what you think!!! Feedback is appreciated!

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