#r: afab

[nanamis-bigtie]

loving your chubby body

↬ feat. higuruma hiromi, ino takuma, gojo satoru, geto suguru, kusakabe atsuya x gn afab!reader ↬ masterlist // ao3 version

cw: smut, pwp, reader has a vagina, piv sex for most of them, warnings wary per character (read them especially at geto's part), MINORS DNI a/n: repost from an old account. inspired by this art. divider by saradika

higuruma hiromi

cw: intercrural sex, clit stimulation

"Just a little more—" Hiromi's voice shatters with each breath. He's fighting brave but his own excitement is his greatest opponent, and each drag of his hips brings him closer to the delicious defeat.

With your thighs pressed tight together and bent over the kitchen counter, you're at mercy of his thrusts. This position is a little uncomfortable, your elbows will hate you for that later, but little do you care about it in the heat of the moment. It's happened too fast, too; one moment you're melting into your partner's embrace as he gently scoops you from behind and prompts his chin on your shoulder to see the work of your hands better—the other he's pounding into you like an animal in heat.

"Just—" He pants into your ear, chest flush to your back, both of his hands groping at your rolls and softness. Half-unbuckled belt digs into your exposed ass; he hasn't undone his pants properly, just moved clothes enough to slam himself against your slick.

He hasn't sunk himself inside though. The roll on top of your thick thighs, his beloved part of your body, bewitched him and swallowed the first, desperate thrust. He hasn't abandoned it since, forcing your legs to close and squeeze his cock in between. You feel it throbbing against your slit; he's hard, hot and gushing, right on the verge of finishing but somehow savoring the moment, only thanks to his stubborn temperance.

You would love to watch his fat tip poking through your clenched legs whenever he bottoms out. No chance for it in the current position, but from the sensation alone you can picture it—your own imagination has you drooling and needy.

"They're so soft..." Hiromi's voice is on the verge of crying. He nuzzles face into the back of your neck, teeth grazing your skin but not daring to take a bite. He's too busy fighting for air and chasing his pleasure.

He rocks himself whole against you, the sheer force of his moves forcing you into the counter and bruising your torso where it meets the edge. His arms around you tighten, his hands full of your chest and stomach, and his hips relentlessly meet your ass. He likes to take you from behind to watch it ripple but even this view can't rival the intoxicating warmth of your thick thighs. He won't pull away even for a second, not before he's covered them with his cum, milked of everything he has for you tonight.

The way he whines your name, broken 'I love you's and praises spells the finish—but Hiromi is stronger than that. He powers through it, almost crushing you in his arms all the way he can wrap them around you, and finds a new reserve of energy to rut into you with fresh pacing and angle. He's pressed closer to your cunt now, so close he's almost slipping in, but he's too lost in it to focus and buckle down to it a little more.

He can bump your clit right now, though, unintentionally edging you both together and eventually breaking you into moans and spasms, your legs too weak to withstand your weight and his enthusiasm.

"Keep it for me—" He growls when you start to falter, yanking you into the right position with impatience you would never suspect him of. "Please."

ino takuma

cw: weight-related insecurity, face-sitting talk, against the wall

"Why not?"

You wonder if Takuma is aware how soppy he looks now, cheek nuzzled into your thigh and looking up at you with a mix of shock and pleading in his eye. Just a moment earlier he's been relentlessly building up the churning in your abdomen with hasty kisses and greedy work of his tongue; his breath is still short after endless adoration of your rolls and curves. It's soothing the fresh hickey right under the edge of your groin, place that's stopped him in his tracks once he took a whiff of you, daring him to jump on you with an unexpected and selfish request.

"I don't want to— You know." You flounder between still heavy breathing and explanations. The answer is obvious with how there's nothing hidden between you two, all insecurities stripped naked for him, but it still doesn't want to pass your lips. As if you would crumble all of the courage and confidence you've built to be here with him if you admitted to the problem outright.

Takuma gets it and is having none of that at the same time.

"You think you could hurt me?" There's a shade of hurt ego behind his laughter. "Babe, please. You've seen the things I carried."

"Well... You've never carried me."

As if you ever let him, time after time escaping grabby and eager hands. Not in front of the others, not when you're wearing that, not when it's so hot, another day, another day, finally never. And you see it in the fire pushing the teary and pleading look in his eye away. His ego is one thing but being played like this right after being denied a delicious treat could not escape unpunished.

Still on his knees, Takuma hooks arms under your knees, still spread wide to fit his enthusiasm and adoration, and yanks you up. For a moment you're in the air with no support but your hands in panic grabbing any part of his body they could reach—but soon you find balance, supported by his strong grab on your ass. He holds you as if you were nothing, cheeky grin pushed right into your face as he's advancing on the nearest wall, soon having your back pushed against it, so tight and close you can't take a full breath anymore.

"If you don't want my face—" He adjusts the grip, having you with one arm while reaching down to align his cock with you— "we're gonna play this way."

You're dropped down just a little, enough to have him sinking inside with the help of gravity alone. Both of you groan in pleasure, your lips an inch away and soon meeting in a chaotic, wet kiss. He doesn't keep it for long, focused on raw and ruthless pacing, the deeper and faster the more you helplessly claw into his shoulders and back, your legs just useless and dangling by his sides.

"How are you feeling?" Takuma rasps into your neck, by no means tired, just barely restraining himself from destroying you right here, against the wall in the living room. "Still worried you're too heavy for my face?"

As if you could answer him, choking on moans, your eyes rolling back in your head on the deep and rough highway to your orgasm, the first of a few waiting for you tonight.

gojo satoru

cw: cowgirl, overstimulation, implied creampie

Your knees are slowly meeting their limit.

Luckily, this orgasm is not as strong, gently washing over you and having you shudder and sigh deep. Satoru holds you through it with patience, unheard of except intimate moments like these, but under the comforting pressure of his big hands creeps the insatiable need for more. You've been chasing him as best as you could, for the years you've been sleeping together already used to his habits and much better at this race than you were at the beginning—but in the end you're a human only.

No amount of stamina could ever satisfy the strongest.

He leans backwards but doesn't pull you with him, letting your bodies cool down each on their own. He's lying beneath you now, a delicious treat for your gaze. Disheveled, pink taint brushing his pale skin, sweat pearling all over his toned chest and abs, white happy trail wet with your juices, blindfold crooked and revealing one of his deep-blue eyes, following each move of yours with attention... You could never have enough of how pretty he is, of how lucky you are to have him like this for yourself only.

The swaying of your hips ceases, heaving of your chest the only move you have left for now. You feel discomfort in your knees, thighs and groin, not too much yet, but really close. If not for his girth still pulsing like mad deep in you, you would gladly help yourself and roll off him for a much-deserved rest. But after all those orgasms he's given you—well, mostly with the work of your body in his lap—it's just unfair to leave him unsatisfied. It's nothing you wouldn't solve with your hand or mouth, but you would not hear the end of it if your once-in-a-week treat for a whole night hadn't finished with him cum inside of you.

"C'mon, move a little." Satoru pokes your stomach, not so gently this time and smirking at your whine and a little wiggle of hips. He knows you adore when he's touching you there and he's gotten way too good at using it in his favor.

"Let me—" You haven't even collected your breathing and thoughts yet. "Just a moment, okay? Give me—"

With a bratty smirk, he plants heels into the bed and bumps you up, his huge cock finding a new angle to slide even deeper into you. Sudden spark of pleasure shakes your body whole, from eyes rolling in the back of your head to toes curling by his sides. When teetering on the edge of overstimulation, it's so easy to fall into another orgasm.

But you've withstood this one, hands clenched on his wrists so hard you mark his skin with your nails.

"Move," he orders half-heartedly, threatening with another thrust building in his hips—so you move, as much as your exhausted and strained legs let you.

It's enough for the insatiable beast for now. Pleased, Satoru pushes both hands against your stomach and kneads your rolls. At first, it's just a motivation for you to ride him faster. But something clicks and he's not teasing you anymore, blind and indifferent to everything but the feeling of your softness and the sight of your skin pouring around his fingers.

You test your luck, cease your moves again—just for the hold to squeeze you tighter and force you to pick the rhythm up. Hypnotized, Satoru is even more selfish and merciless.

geto suguru

cw: canon compliant geto, exhibitionism, cockwarming, dom/sub undertones, dumbification vibe, public sex, geto kills someone

The man kneeling in front of you two might have an idea what's going on, but he would never dare to let you know he's aware—yet to vocalize his confusion or indignation. He's sweating profoundly under the weight of Suguru's stare, mumbling chaotic explanations and excuses, his eyes transfixed on Suguru's feet.

You don't even know who that is and why has he's been dragged to writhe and babble. Before a different matter has occupied the top spot of your attention share, you've understood enough to recognize him as one of the windows sympathizing with the cause. But why did he fall from favor? Maybe it has been addressed already, maybe Suguru himself is not clued in enough, just treating the man as an excellent opportunity to play with you instead.

It doesn't matter. You're perched in his lap; you're engulfed by his greedy touch and perverse ideas. You're pressing against him with your whole weight, exactly as he likes, and squeezing his cock in your hot and tight hole.

Countless, wide layers of Suguru's clothes can cover your union with ease. Having one of his arms loosely wrapped around you, he hides the most of your body behind the sleeve. The other, resting on top of your lap, secures the rest. For a casual, lost eye, he's only holding you close, his favorite, his beloved toy, his doe-eyed innocent thing he treats like a comfort object. In reality, he's keeping you to cockwarm him in front of everyone who'll pass through this room until he'll be bored with torturing you and will take you on the same chair or on the floor next to it.

With no one around, if you're lucky.

As the man squirms on the floor, almost kissing it with the way he bows lower and lower, Suguru mindlessly traces your love handles. You twitch when he brushes a particularly ticklish spot and squeeze him even tighter. But you don't move, your face slotted in the crook of his neck, eyes focused on his handsome face and full of adoration. Part of you is terrified of delicious consequences, part wants to spare yourself overstimulation. With your nerves tense and teased relentlessly for what feels like hours, you're constantly on the edge of snapping. Even Suguru's breathing is like a torture; oh, what you would gladly give away to have him finally move and sate the fire between your legs.

"Did you hear him?" Suguru takes your chin into hand and brushes thumb against your slightly parted lips. When you can't stop the tiniest of mewls, he squeezes your cheeks, maybe with an encouragement, maybe with a warning. "What do you think, my sweetest, should we kill him?"

You roll your head further into him, feinting a whispered advice but in fact—wordlessly begging for this farce to end. You're meeting your limit, a minute more and you'll lose the last strand of dignity left in you and beg instead to be fucked right here and now, accidental voyeurs be damned.

"You're lucky I'm in a good mood today." Suguru's eyes rest on the man, now crying in relief and thanking him in the sweetest words, but the sentence is for your ears only.

Suguru turns the unwelcomed witness away with an impatient flick of a wrist, closes both arms around you tight even before he leaves the room. You hear a loud thud by the door when a curse pierces through the man's back, killing him instantly, but the aftertaste of reaction is faint and soon disappears midst Suguru's deep kisses.

kusakabe atsuya

cw: big breasts fetish, handjob, reader in lingerie

When you unclasp your bra and let your breast pour out of its confines, Atsuya throws everything he's been holding and pounces on you right away.

You haven't seen each other for a whole weekend—weekends should be crossed out of his agenda, but luck wasn't on your side this time—and you know it was rough to him. He put on a brave mask and casually brushed off all your proposals, from the facetime to exchanging nudes, but his curt messages and taut voice through the speaker just reeked of desperation. He's been pent up for a while now, crumbs of intimacy he stole from you along the week not enough to sate his libido. 

Just to think he warned you beforehand that he might be too tired for you; since the day he's taken you for the first time you're the one who has to beg for mercy from his relentless desire.

You set a little trap. Lingerie Atsuya bought you for your anniversary hasn't been tested yet in action, its tight fit and very feminine appearance needing a particular opportunity and mood. Opportunity couldn't be better, the mood set itself as soon as his face went red and mouth agape at the sight. Work and travel exhaustion is gone in second—and the only thing you have to worry is whether the delicate lace will withstand how strong he grabs and pulls.

Atsuya buries his face into your bust straight away, no word said, no touch stolen from the other parts of your body—just a lewd moan muffled by your mounds and hands scooping them from sides to cushion himself better. He rubs himself into your warmth and scent, growls, pleased, when he catches your natural tinge not yet washed away after the day. The tent in his pants grows crazy fast; you don't lose a moment and free him as soon as he leaves you an opening for it.

He throbs against your palm so hard that you worry your surprise might be finished way too early. Atsuya withstands the temptation, somehow, but does nothing to control himself in any other way. He's more fucking your fist than letting you stroke him, his precum dripping down your fingers and turning your grip slick, almost too much.

Holding himself between your tits until he's out of breath, Atsuya finally peels away enough to look at you, "I missed you. I missed them."

He licks and sucks, peppers your breasts with kisses and hickeys until he settles on one of your nipples. He's rougher than usual, brushing at the line of discomfort and letting you feel his teeth; you will be too sensitive for a bra for a day or two to come, but you still pull on his hair and prompt him closer. You missed him. You missed that.

With the first hunger satisfied, you finally find the right, united rhythm. His hips slow down enough to let you work for him, your hold on him is gentler and leaving him more space and freedom. Atsuya is not going anywhere though, only once taking a sudden turn to kiss your neck, but the delicious valley between your breasts bewitches him again.

Both arms wrapped around you, hands adoring your love handles, he pulls you whole into him, having you perched in his lap, and groaning when you find a new angle to jerk him off. "I missed every piece of you."

[ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff]

Relief (Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x Reader) Smut

Summary: It's the end of another mission, and you're ready to unwind with your new favourite destresser - casual sex with Soap.

AN: Thanks again to everyone who voted in the poll. I'm tempted to do another for the fics I've got drafted. My third favourite white guy on COD is finally on my blog ayyy.

If you wanna request a fic, check out my guidelines before sending one in! Also, if you wanna be tagged in any future fics, let me know!

Content warnings: Smut (18+ only, minors DNI), fuck-buddies in love trope, Reader is AFAB and gender neutral

Masterlist // AO3 Version

With a sigh, your head tilted back against the door you were pressed into. A half-surprised huff escaped next, since your body hadn’t left an impression in the wood – not unlike how Soap’s fingers were likely etched in bruises on your thighs from where he was holding you. He didn’t normally hold onto you so tightly, so desperately. But you let him anyway.

His nose leant above your shoulder. His chest caught its breath in deep sluggish drags, the glow of his skin pressed to yours whilst you did the same.

“You gonna put me down?” You huffed.

“Maybe. Quite like you like this.”

Of course he did. That’s why you’d barely made it out of briefing and not at all on his bed. Soap adjusted his grip and lifted your legs’ grip a little higher up his waist, which caught you off-guard and a moan slipped out.

You gave him a little taunt: “I know sex is a work-out but that doesn’t mean you can start deadlifting me whilst your cock’s still inside me.”

“Damn,” and Soap lifted his head up to look in your eyes with that laddish smirk and smug stare, “There goes my routine I was planning for tomorrow. Hey-” His brow creased as you attempted to lower one of your legs, his hand squeezing the meat of your thigh, “- I meant it. I like you like this.”

“This isn’t exactly helping the pain,” You said, referring to the mildest of injuries you’d ever gotten on a mission – a massive bruise behind your left shoulder.

Instantly, and with you still in his arms, Soap walked you over to his bed. His open hand cradled your hair as he lowered himself onto the sheets, then flopped back ungracefully. You on the other hand remained sat upright on his cock; your head tilted to the side as you watched Soap fidget against the pillow.

“You alright down there?”

Putting his hands behind his head, Soap winked, “Perfect. The view’s fantastic.”

Those random “clench to the music” videos on TikTok had been preparing you for this moment. You squeezed around his cock and Soap’s self-assured chuckles were stolen away. Tilting your head playfully at him, you watched him grunting beneath you.

Soap’s brows shot up his forehead as he opened up those bashful blue eyes, “Oh, that’s how you wanna play?”

His body beneath you shuffled as he planted his heels besides his buttocks. Your grin remained etched on your face as he thrust up into you. The first time, you could hold in your groans. The second time, your lips were pressed together as you lowered your elbows either side of his head.

“One Earthshattering Soap Special coming up?”

“Fuckin’ minx.”

It was so hard to kiss him properly when he wouldn’t stop making you smile, moan, whisper how good he made you feel. His shameless stare flitted between your face twisted in overstimulation and your hand rubbing at yourself to chase down your next orgasm. Each thrust was bordering on painful, the perfect distraction for your greedy body.

At the moment your orgasm wiped across you, you didn’t have to hold back a scream. All energy left was trained on those laboured breaths snatched between your mouth and Soap’s, both agape and brushing awkwardly as you greedily rutted into one another for more until the waves faded to ripples then to contented hums. His nose slotted to yours as you lifted your chest an inch from him.

“Was it intentional?”

“What’d’you mean?”

“Soap Special. Coming up,” you repeated, your laughter coming out hushed as you grappled with Soap’s shoulders to stay vertical.

“No, can’t be on my a-game with dirty jokes whilst your cunt squeezing the life out of me,” and Soap gripped your hips tighter. “And I can’t have done a good enough job if you can still think properly.”

“I recover fast. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

And you fell over into his chest, flopping your entire weight on him as you copied how he’d squashed you between himself and the door – but at least he had the luxury of it being a mattress on his back this time.

His arms curled protectively around you, keeping you pressed to him whilst he kissed you stupid, quite literally. You sighed dreamily; your hand tangled in his mohawk.

“You need a haircut,” you mumbled into his mouth. “Just a trim. Sides are getting long.”

“Warmin’ up to it, are you?”

“I will say it’s convenient for holding onto.”

Soap snorted, half your body sinking on his chest’s sudden exhale. Your fist squeezed in his hair once more before freeing him and pushing you away from him. When a flash of bliss from your cunt caught you off guard, and a short moan shot out of you, you waited for Soap to tease you about it. But he did no such thing whilst you climbed off his cock. Just looked at you with a close-lipped smile and his hand stroked up and down your bicep.

“Stay,” He hummed as you twisted around and swung your legs off the edge of his bunk.

“I can’t.”

“You can.” It was said with sincerity, not his usual sarcasm.

So you tried to include a sense of warning in your retort, “Soap.” But it just came across as sardonic and you waited for Soap to take advantage of it.

Instead, he sat up and wrapped himself against you. Feigning annoyance, you pushed his rising torso down into the bed.

You tried again, “We do this routine every time. It’s getting boring.”

Soap bounced right back up, “Boring’s not how I’d describe it.” To support his point, you endured listening to his kisses smacking against your skin, sending light-headed chills with each new contact. Soft vibrations from his throat tickled your shoulder’s slope.  

“You’re practically purring,” You said, hiding how uneven your words were in a half-laugh.

“Course. I’m the cat who got the cream.”

“Fucking hell,” You huffed, still smiling as you pulled up your underwear.

Your trousers were halfway up your legs when you pushed him away again but, this time, Soap stayed firm. He didn’t even move an inch under the light pressure of your palm.

“Don’t go. Please, Y/N.”

“First name basis when you’re not inside me? Must be real serious,” you parroted with a half-decent Scottish accent, though you didn’t miss how his begging affected you.

You turned to him now your trousers were done up. Your smile dropped; the “but” lingered on your lips as it saw Soap’s expression. You’d seen this man in pain, furious, over the moon, in bliss. But this was the most open, the most vulnerable, you’d seen him. Wide eyes peered at you in the low-lit room, letting you see directly through into his mind and its unsettled state, framed in that five o’clock shadow that had sprouted on his cheeks during the mission. It aged him. It made him look as weary as he felt.

His final plea of “I don’t wanna be alone, not tonight” uprooted the core of what this whole deal was about: stress relief. Soap still had stress that needed relieving, only it wasn’t with the usual fuck and funnies that you were used to.

You’d turned to him initially because you wanted to not think. Soap was wonderful at distracting; he always unwound you so easily, grounding you with his quips and that gorgeous drawl he spoke in. Perhaps you’d been neglecting him. Or perhaps you were leaning into this arrangement too much. The latter occupied your mind more. Were you getting in too deep?

“I need the toilet,” you whispered. Your eyes dragged up from the quiver that crossed his bottom lip and you finished buckling your belt on the other side of his bedroom door.

You were somewhat certain of why you were treating Soap’s request like a confession of love, because, in a way, it was. Admitting you need help that can only be given by a certain someone, that’s trust beyond the bond forged on the battlefield. And cuddling? Kissing you goodnight? His open expression you caught him wearing before he snuck in a quip? All things that had come before this night that had added up to support your conclusion.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about it before – leaning into the romantic side you’d already been sharing with each other. In fact, a bystander would probably call out how the only thing missing from your relationship was that very label.

A fear of commitment wasn’t what was preventing you. But the paperwork alone would be a pain in the arse. Then there were the comments other people would make. Although not from Ghost or Gaz, besides some light ribbing. Price probably wouldn’t have much to say either. That risk of getting caught leaving Soap’s room, it hadn’t even crossed your mind as you left him tonight.

You were still silently pondering as you squatted on the toilet, completing your post-hook-up routine. Soap’s forlorn face was one you didn’t think you could recover from with a good night’s sleep. Facing him tomorrow at breakfast, sparring, trusting each other on the job and in the gym, it seemed the longer you left this the worse it would get.

Soap was facing away from the bedroom door for a split second before he sat up to face the sliver of light from the hallway, his body shrouded in your silhouette. He didn’t speak. He just watched as you closed the door, undressed, and returned to his side. There wasn’t a lot of room in the bed, so he turned back on his side and you embraced him around his middle, his soft skin pitted over muscles and under scars.

“I woulda agreed to stay if you removed all your bravado quicker,” you whispered.

“I’ll remember that next time.” And he squeezed your hand in his.

The temptation to joke about his hair again crept in your throat alongside the tickle in your nose that it had caused, but now didn’t feel like the time. You stored it away for next time – there was always a ‘next time’ – and instead, between his shoulder blades, where the muscles folded in a neat crease down his spine, you pressed a kiss.

[mysicklove]

𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

DAY 15: HYBRIDS

With: Megumi Fushiguro

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Sub + cat hybrid! Megumi, AFAB + owner! reader but no pronouns, reader is implied to be smaller than him, vaginal penetration, creampie, slight breeding kink, birthcontrol mentioned and used, purring/licking/mewling, he calls you his "mate" and u tease him bout it, needy megumi,

A/N: i had alot of fun with this one tbh. but also I usually write gn! reader, so dealing with readers pleasure is so hard to write about lol. i am so used to only catering to what feels good to the character.

Owning a cat was way easier than you thought it was going to be. Well, at least owning a cat hybrid was. Megumi, your adorable, slightly temperamental, and moody black cat has been living with you for about five years now, and you love him desperately.

He stays at home while you go off to work each day, but he never complains, instead just sleeps the day away. In fact, you tried introducing him to the neighbor’s hybrid, a lab named Yuuji as a playmate, but he blatantly refused, growing annoyed almost immediately at how upbeat the dog was. Megumi preferred silence, sunbathing, sleeping, and your full attention. He was okay being at home alone until you got back.

He currently lays on the carpet, curling up in the warmth of the light, and dozing off when he hears the sound of your keys working their way into the hole. His ears dart toward the noise, and a smile creeps up his face, but his eyes remain shut, and he pretends to be asleep.

You open the door and sigh, eyes darting around the apartment to find your cat. When you catch him on the floor sleeping, you smile, shutting the door behind you and setting your stuff down on the counter. You make your way over him, dropping to your knees, and then finally laying down next to him. 

You stare at his relaxed, content face, and begin to reach out to touch him affectionately. He grabs your hand before you make contact with his skin, and pulls it forward, pulling you into his chest. Then he wraps his arms around your boddy, intertwines the two of your legs, and nuzzles his face on top of your head, purring gently. 

“Hi Megumi,” You mumble against his chest. “You are so warm.”

He nods, tail swinging behind him. “Been in the sun all day,” He breathes, and you hum, curling up against him. “...Missed you,” Megumi whispers lowly, still rubbing his cheek against your head.

You chuckle at him. “Oh whose this? My Megumi would never say something so sappy,” You tease, pulling away to look up at him.

He pouts, ears falling flat on his head as he rolls his eyes. “Am I not allowed to miss my mate?” He complains, but licks a stripe up your hair, still purring. 

You groan when you feel his inhumane tongue lick your face. “Hey, stop it. No grooming, humans don’t do this.” You try to push him away, but he ignores you, wrapping his arms tighter around you and pulling you closer. 

His purrs grow louder when you finally give up, and you watch his tail swing back and forth from behind him. He licks at your face, and then your hair, and finally your neck. You shiver slightly, still not used to the attention even after all these years. “You stink,” Megumi mumbles into your neck, using his tongue to wipe away some of the gross scents that clung to you.

“You want me to take a shower?” 

He grips you harder, shaking his head into your skin. You feel his crotch press into your backside, and you raise your eyebrows, but don’t say anything. “S’fine. I don't like it when my mate smells like other men though.” He rubs his neck onto any surface he can, scent marking you as his.

You roll your eyes, but smile. He was being strangely affectionate today. Usually, it was you who has to initiate physical contact and doting words. “Just coworkers, possessive cat. What’s got you all worked up today?”

His hips move closer to yours, beginning to grind himself on you. “Wanna do it,” he whispers, so low that you could barely hear him. His cheeks pinken, but you can't see them, so you cant tease him about it.

You move your hips backward, meeting him halfway. He lets out an airy breath onto the back of your neck, and you shiver at the feeling. “Yeah? You haven’t been thinking about it all day, have you?”

He feels his cheeks begin to burn. “Shut up.” A definite yes. His semi-hard cock continues to grind on your clothes, and you sigh at the feeling. You quickly manevour yourself to turn to look at him, and he pouts slightly, ears drooping, from the loss of stimulation. You roll your eyes with a grin, and tug at his pants. “Right now? H-Here?” He stutters, but helps you pull down his pants, obviously not too against the idea.

“Don’t get so nervous on me now. What happened to my brave cat who was basically grinding himself on me just a couple seconds ago?” You tease, kissing at his neck and pulling a small mewl from him. He gulps, baring his neck slightly to let you plant more kisses on it. He grips onto the back of your head with shaky hands, encouraging the action.

You slip your hands into his boxers and he gasps, mouth hanging slightly open and eyes squeezing shut from the attention. You pull it out, and then proceed to pull your pants down. “Hurry,” He demands, tilting your head up to kiss you. 

It's a desperate sort of kiss, both of his hands cup your face and bring you impossibly closer to him. It makes it harder to remove your clothing, and you can feel him begin to grind onto your stomach. 

You are forced to pull away to unbutton your pants, and he whines in complaint. “Such a spoiled brat,” You tease affectionately, “Cant go one minute without being touched? Are all kitties this needy?”

He looks away from you, pouting again, but you just giggle and kiss his jaw, finally removing your panties. “Don’t know. Don’t wanna think bout it. Do you not like when I am needy?”

He holds back a smug smile, knowing that this will definitely give him brownie points. He is right of course, because the next second you are littering his face and neck with kisses, while he purrs, soaking all the attention up. “Of course not. You are so cute needy.” 

He nods, smart enough to know that an argument will break out if he doesn't. So he smiles contently, melting under you and your soft touches. Finally, you grab his cock and press it against your entrance. Megumis mouth waters at the feeling, the warm welcoming sensation of your folds. 

“Do you…uh…Don't you need to be prepp–oh fuck,” He groans, throwing his head back as you sink onto his cock without much hesitation. You sigh into his chest, adjusting to his length — he was slightly bigger than adverage, and every time you take it, it always feels like a stretch, but it was an addicting sensation.

The two of you turn to where he lays on his back, and you on top of him, chest to chest. He grabs at your hips, hands shaking as he restrains himself from moving you up and down on his length. His eyes are screwed shut and his ears are pinned to his head. “Hey, relax. Why are you so tense? It’s okay for you to move, sweetheart.”

He heaves a sigh of relief, and nods, while you bring your hands up to pet his ears. He leans into the touch, purrs increasing in volume as he lifts your hips up and back down. He repeats the motion a couple of time, pants getting louder and half lidded eyes peering down at you. You in return have your own blush, its softer than his, but definitely noticeable. “I…Can I…Fuck this is so–Can I thrust…into you?”

He fumes red, and he turns his face into the carpet, embarrassed by his lewd words. Even after all this time, he is unbelievably shy, and can never voice what he wants in bed. “So polite! Must of trained you well.” He nods, ears flickering to you at your sweet words. “Of course, kitty. Dont gotta ask, ‘m all yours.”

Immediately he wraps his arms around you, pinning you to his chest, and begins to thrust upward. Your eyes widen slightly at his pace, and the roughness of it all, and you groan into his skin. He moans at the feeling, breath heavy, matching his pace. “Oh fuck. This. This I was–fuckkk—waiting for this all day!”

You pant into his chest, a smile pulling at your lips. “Y-Yeah?” You encourage, and he nods with a hum. Loud slapping of skin on skin fills the room, and his tail reaches up to wrap around your wrist. His cheeks are stained a permanent pink, and his chest rises and falls quickly with every pant. 

You managed to shakily reach up to his ears, grabbing the both of them and giving them a small tug. He yelps slightly, back arching, but then moans into the touch. It was cute, he was super temperamental about the black ears. On some days he wanted you to pet and rub them, on others he wanted you to pull and abuse the sensitive areas. Today was the latter.

“Was–Was fucking my hand thinking bout you. Not as good. My mate is so warm,” His voice vibrates with a purr, and you chuckle at him above the lewd noises. It was endearing to watch his body succumb to pleasure. His voice always held a purr, but he still managed to make every human like sound with the addition to the vibration.

Eventually he flips the two of you over, his arms caging you in under him, as he licks and kisses your neck. “Mhmmm. Mine, mine, my mate. Love you. Love you so much,” He chants into your ear, biting at the lobe while continuing to thrust into you at a merciless pace.

“S-So talkative today,” You mumble, gripping onto the carpet at a particularly harsh thrust. Usually, you were the one leading the dirty talk. He whimpers at the words, pressing his entire body on top of yours. He liked to be touching, and as much skin as he could, the better, but of course he would never admit that outloud. 

“Dont know why. Just missed you. Fuck I missed you. Why do you leave for so long?” He complains between breaths, his voice holding a dramatic whine to it. He nuzzles his face into your neck, scenting the area while you reach back and scratch his ears. “Why–Why…Hah.. Can’t you stay here with me? Th-Thought you loved me.”

He was being unreasonable and the both of you knew it, but today he was being weirdly sappy and clingy, so you didn’t mind having to reassure him. “Love you so much. You know why.” You feel his teeth graze into your skin, and he probably has his ears pinned back. “Ill try to work from home more, how does that sound?”

He nods, mewling happily to himself. Then he goes back to panting into your skin, licking and biting any surface he can lay his mouth on. You dont try to stop him, knowing if you do, he will probably get all pouty.

“Can I cum? P-Please? Been good, right?” He hasn’t really, other than the sweet words he has let out, he has not be gentle at all. You will probably be stumbling by tomorrow. His pace is desperate, frantic even, that makes you begin to lose your mind.

But he was feeling good, and your thoughts were draining anyways. “Sure, love, I’m c-close too,” You sigh, closing your eyes and pressing your face against the carpet as you begin to feel that tightening feeling build up.

He gulps and nods, kissing your cheek. “Inside? Please?” His words come out as a whisper, obviously hesitant about the question. He has been day dreaming about this for weeks, to finally cum inside you, but never mustered up the courage to ask. Today, he was feeling good, and you seemed to be happy at his behavior, so it was the best time to ask.

Your orgasm hits you out of the blue, and you are left trembling on the floor. Your eyes roll back slightly and you heave, “S’fine Megumi. J-Just cum!” You were on birthcontrol, it was okay just this once. Your thoughts were scrambled from the intensity of your orgasm.

His pace picks up again and you shiver at the feeling, while he lets out low mewls and purrs, happy at your choice. “Im cumming. Thank you, thank you,” He mumbles into your ear, and then latches onto your neck as he shoves himself as deep inside of you as possible, and cums.

He throws his head back and groans, arms trembling. It feels so much better than cumming inside a condom or pulling out. You are so warm, and the idea of the possibility of him breeding you, leaves him shivering with glee. He would never tell you this of course, you would most definitely call him a perv or an animal.

He collapses on top of you, practically glowing, and purring happily from above. He flips the two of you over so that you are back on his chest, peering up at him. His face is damp with sweat, and his cheeks are flushed pink, but he wears a small, content smile. 

You feel cum begin to ooze out of you and you groan. “Ugh, now I definitely need a shower.” He cringes at the words, and you laugh. “Can’t believe you hate water, you are such a sterotypical cat.” He frowns, and rolls his eyes, not responding, because you are completely right.

“Aw cmon, mate, dont get all pouty now,” You tease, and his eyes flash to you in an instant. His cheeks turn a vicious red, and he covers his face with his hand,

“...Call me that again,” Megumi whispers, so low that you could barely hear him.

You raise your eyebrows, cocking your head to the side. “My mate?”

He begins to purr again, hands wrapping around your back to pull you up closer to him. He leans in, and hesitantly presses his lips to yours, pulling back slightly to mumble, “'m hard again.”

PREV POST | MASTERLIST | NEXT POST

[galleryforfools]

(CW: Br33ding, dub-c0n/non-c0n, implied misogyny but reader isn’t necessarily a girl, just AFAB)

New kink unlocked: someone emptying a used condom into your pussy after you pleaded with them to use protection and finally convinced them, only to do something that displeases them and get “You think you deserve a condom? You clearly need a baby in you to learn some manners” while you’re crying for them to not do it.

Yeah they just fuck it deeper inside with their bare cock before cumming in you for real this time, telling you making them wear condoms is a privilege not a right.

[konigceo]

könig cumming 2 quickly

written by a minor

könig gets all shaky whenever he's abt to cum, n it gets sooo much more intense when he cums early :( he gets worried for a second, worried that u would be disappointed in him for cumming this early on. it's honestly ur fault, u just feel too good that he can't help!!

könig tries his best to make you stop grinding onto him, trying to delay his impending orgasm. but ofc it doesn't work, u were so needy for him all day, and needed his cock right then and there!!! he honestly loves it when ur all over him, he feels so useful to u :(

könig's hands tremble at your hips, whimpering your name out so sweetly, 'bitte, bitte..' he pleads. könig's mind turns to mush, poor guy doesn't even know what he's pleading for :( he's so conflicted, he doesn't want you to stop, but he doesn't wanna cum so easily like a horny teenager :(

it's been so long since he's felt this fucking good, maybe it's the long deployment getting to him. könig spurts his load inside of you, shame coursing in his veins. his mind is racing, not just from the orgasm, but from the pure shame he's feeling :( he's a seasoned colonel, a grown man, yet he comes unraveling at your pussy.

as you momentarily stop, könig utters a quiet apology. 'mein liebe.. i- i'm sorry, i didn't mean to cum so quickly,' he mutters. you reassure him, telling him that you're glad you made him feel that good. könig still feels bad, cumming before you did, so he makes sure you cum an extra 2 times!! he wants to make it up to you, not like you didn't enjoy it ;)

[femmeloverboy]

I cant believe people on here actually think you are a bigot for *checks notes* thinking that trans men are oppressed for being trans men and have unique experiences with transphobia

[lgbtqtext]

Requested by cringeandproudx3

[ochiody]

i love you twins that struggle to have a sense of identity and are never recognized as separate people even though they are radically different.. i love u twins that are seen as interchangeable and two parts of one singular whole even though theyre really not .. . we will all get through this

[1-800-black-readers-r-us]

“Good girl.”

Pairings: Chubby! blackfem/AFAB reader x Logan Howlett.

Word count: 504.

Warning tags/Cw: 18+ MDNI, no plot, just smut (the first attempt at writing it, may not be good.), fingering, oral (Fem receiving.) Teasing, pet names, (Good girl, princess.)

𓆩♱𓆪—𓆩♱𓆪—𓆩♱𓆪—𓆩♱𓆪—𓆩♱𓆪—𓆩♱𓆪—𓆩♱𓆪

“Look at you, takin' My fingers so fuckin' well.”

You nod, moaning before licking your lips briefly. Your hands gripped the sheets as his clean hand toyed with your chest, rolling your nipple in between his fingers, occasionally Squeezing it.

Breathy moans filled The room as you lay at the end of the bed, legs spread open. “You're so perfect, princess.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. Logan's touch was tender And sweet as he Slowly pumps His fingers, His thumb brushes across your swollen clit, causing your breath to hitch and your head to fall back.

Your Hips buckle as a choked moan escapes you. “Please, Logan—!”

“Please? Please what?” He cocks A brow, taking his fingers out just enough for his spit to hit them before gliding them back in, pulling another desperate moan falling from your lips once more at his frustratingly sweet pace. “F-fuck.” You curse, pushing your hips up. Desperately for contact, groaning in protest.

It Wasn't fair how Easily he could tease you, make you melt with just his words and touch. He sat beside you without breaking a sweat while you became A puddle. Logan chuckles, his deep voice Vibrating in his chest as he slips them back in. He looks at you, still slowly pumping His fingers.

“Come on,” He coos, pressing a kiss on your lips “Say What you want.”

You whine, looking at him through your lashes, begging, “More, I need more—Please go harder, I need it!” He hums, pleased with your response. “That's it, princess, good girl.”

He Sinks to his knees, now at the perfect height With your silt. Your legs made their way to his shoulders Without assistance. A loud groan left You as his tongue gently glided across Your folds, teasing you with its feather-light touch. His hands gripped your hips as he groaned against your heat. Sensually flicking your clit.

He hungrily devours you, saliva running down his chin as he switched between sucking and lapping Your Slit. Gasping sharply, Your legs trembled, and Your eyes fluttered shut as he flattened his Tongue against your Clit; reaching down, you gripped his brown locs and held him where he was, his eyes to roll with pleasure from the tug, Moaning, sending vibrations to your Slit.

He glances up towards your face, “ ‘Feels Good, doesn't it? You like my tongue on your pussy, huh?”

Another wave of arousal pours From you and onto his hand, Nodding frantically as he curls his fingers Towards him, doing the ‘Come here.’ motion, brushing against your G-spot.

“Oh, f—fuuck!” Your eyes roll back, quickly holding your legs up, “there! Oh god, Don't stop!.” He puts his other hand onto your plush stomach, hitting that spot over and over, until—

You cry out, seeing stars as your body shudders. Your walls spasm and contract around his fingers; the familiar waves of delicious fire run through Your veins, your legs tightening around his head.

After a minute, you open your eyes, only to see him standing in front of you, Palming his now-bulging jeans while smirking.

“Ready For round two?”

𓆩♱𓆪—𓆩♱𓆪—𓆩♱𓆪—𓆩♱𓆪—𓆩♱𓆪—𓆩♱𓆪—𓆩♱𓆪

A/n: I hope y'all enjoyed this, I will be writing more! Be good people♡

[ugly-anarchist]

"Yeah sure transmisogynists want you to stop existing and vilify intersex women the exact same way they do trans women, but you're afab so you're exempt from experiencing transmisogyny and also you're an oppressor who actively benefits from transmisogyny."

[nanamis-bigtie]

more than friends

↬ fushiguro megumi x gn afab!reader ↬ masterlist // ao3 version

cw: smut, reader has a vagina (no excessive body descriptions), aged-up character, piv sex, creampie, friends to lovers, there was only one bed, mutual pinning, bottom reader, reader is a sorcerer summary: you've known megumi since you were kids, so the enforced stay in a single room with double futon doesn't seem much of a problem. however the proximity has exposed feelings that have been meticulously hidden for years word count: 2k a/n: repost from the old account. divider by saradika

Futon in your bedroom is spacious even for a double standard but you still somehow ended up squeezed on one—yours—side. Enveloped by the duvet from the top and him from what seems all sides at once, you arouse in seconds. It's too hot for your comfort but you know better than trying to sneak any part of your body outside; fall in the mountains put you through it already and it was still light when you reached the ryokan, at night it can be only colder and worse than any inconvenience and awkwardness crawling under your skin once you fully realize the situation you've fallen into.

Megumi sneaked himself close, his torso flush to your back, crevices of your bodies filling each other with embarrassing perfection. One arm thrown above your head, the other wrapped around your middle, fingers looking for warmth under the hem of your t-shirt, he's cradling his face into the nape of your neck. You can feel his hot breath under your ear, soft and barely audible but deep, filling his chest to the brim as it bears down on you with each draft.

He's not holding you tight but when, in initial shock, you try to shake him off, he clamps the grip until you stop squirming. You're allowed to breathe free again, but he throws one leg over yours for a good measure. You could turn around, you assume, but you're definitely not going anywhere without waking him up first.

"It's not a big deal," Megumi said himself a few hours earlier when the owner of the ryokan apologized in the politest words for the lack of free single rooms. It wasn't a spacious inn in the first place and now, with the main road destroyed by flash flooding, you weren't the only ones looking for last minute shelter.

You didn't protest, hungry, soaking wet and tired. It was a long day, already a pain in the ass before the rain had grown in intensity, as if gods decided to sink the cursed site you two had been called for. You crawled to the local hotel on your last legs, determined to stay in the worst conditions possible, as long as you were given a warm bath and a cup of hot tea.

It wasn't a big deal indeed. Megumi wasn't just a coworker, he was a friend you've known for years, even before you both entered high school. There was even time when he was considered a perfect candidate for your husband—a source of never-ending jokes and teasing from Gojo-sensei—but the project collapsed with the old system of great jujutsu families, and your strong yet relentlessly platonic relationship continued to bloom without the burden of tradition. The label of "lovebirds" clung to you for good, like a ghost of your late teacher cackling over your heads, survived even the graduation and intense focus on your careers for the few years to come. Now both first grades, you haven't been seeing each other much outside occasional contact at work, but nearly intimate closeness remained intact.

As if not a single second has been lost between you.

There was no trace of embarrassment as you shed your clothes to the more or less dry layer. Megumi didn't even blink when you asked him to dry your hair after a shower, your hands didn't budge when you were putting moisturizer on his facial scars as he was already drifting away while still sitting. You crawled on the futon at the same time, with a safe and respectful distance between you, and fell asleep in no time.

But now, a few hours later, a certain border has been crossed, leaving you nearly breathless in front of the horde of possibilities you've had no idea they're within your reach.

It's...somewhat terrifying how, once initial shock has faded, comfortable Megumi's arms feel around you. His touch is not alien to you, but he's never been one to relish in physical contact, yet with just a friend. It has no right to be so familiar and safe. It has no right to open your heart like a barely scabbed wound and soak you with yearning and hunger. You can't complain about lack of physical pleasure, you haven't tasted enough loneliness to be desperate for any kind of bodily warmth next to you. Yet, you're trembling, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, and when his hold loosens a little and he rolls to his back, painful spasm runs through you, almost dragging a sob out of you.

You follow his move, now embracing him yourself and nestling between his side and the arm that remained close to you. Megumi takes a deeper breath, immediately scoops you close and hums, as if with approval, when you slot your head on his chest. You can hear—feel—his heartbeat, calm and welcoming, so recognizable even if it's the first time you can witness it from so close.

Rains have ceased, almost full moon pours silver light through the uncovered windows. You can see every crevice of his appearance and the sight takes you a little aback. It's Megumi, without a doubt, but not until now you pondered how much he changed. How long has it been already? His face lost the last remains of androgynous subtlety, his cheeks covered by harsh two-day scruff and his worry lines much deeper when he frowns, your gentle touch ticklish. You trace every single one of them, trace the scars around his eye, trace his jaw, square and manly, dear gods, when has this boy, so pretty that the girls at school constantly bickered behind his back, turned into a man?

When all this time flew over your heads? Next year, the both of you will grow older than Gojo-sensei.

Only his eyelashes remained exactly the same, throwing shadows under his eyes and filling you with jealousy for their length and thickness. You can't help but brush them with a thumb, once, twice, until his eyelids crack open, and he looks straight at you.

"For how long will you keep fondling me?" Heavy with sleep, Megumi's voice is low and coarse, filling you with need both well-known and alien. You have never felt anything like that for him (well, have you really?), and there's a shadow of anxiety behind it—but you can't bring yourself to take your hands off him.

Silence between you is thick like tar but not uncomfortable, rather cautious as you both ponder over the next move, equally unwilling to part your ways. Megumi breaks first when his hand, rather accidentally, brushes yours after he's wiped sleepiness off his face, "Well, I haven't told you to stop."

Duvet falls off your shoulders as you climb his lap, straddling him comfortably and letting the moonlight soak your figure. Megumi inhales deep and sharp under you, his hands finding your hips in no time and nestling you right over the undeniably growing hardness in his boxers. You both ignore it for now, drunk with the sights alone, rediscovering each other from this new, the most intimate angle. He lets you slide his undershirt under his chin, groans deep and low when you squeeze his pecs, soft against your palms with their size. He's always been rather slim, but he's gained serious musculature over the years, still not the biggest guy you've seen around, but so different from Megumi that's somehow, despite everything, stuck in your head for years.

You find more and more distinctions as you explore him further south. Soft hair grazes your skin especially down his navel, a trail leading you to the edge of his boxers and prompting you to peel them away. He mewls, relieved, when you do so, his erection springing free. It fits in your hand just right, leaking for you even before you give him a proper stroke. He must have been humping against you in sleep, his bulge a detail you've missed in the haze of different feelings and sensations, and he's enjoying the sweet relief now, his chest and abs twitching for you in pleasure.

The first itching wave washes over you too and you reach between your legs just to find your underwear to be soaked. You're ready so easily and fast it's almost embarrassing, especially under the weight of his gaze, attentive despite sleepiness lingering in its corners, fixed on thin threads of your arousal glistening between your fingers in the silver light.

"Come here," he mutters, nails sinking in the softness of your ass as he desperately tries to close the last inches of distance between you two.

You follow eagerly, biting on a moan as if your dignity depended on it when his tip slides between your folds. You haven't prepared yourself thoroughly but from what you felt in your hand you assess he shouldn't be a problem. 

You impale yourself in one, smooth move, both of you groaning in pleasure and release, finally sating the hunger neither of you knew it's lingering in you.

Megumi lets go of your hips to lift himself to sitting, wraps arms around your back and pulls you into him so suddenly it yanks air out of your lungs. You return the proximity with your legs around him, ankles crossed behind him to sway yourself steady. The rhythm is lazy, as deep as slow, barely earning some friction for the both of you. Sometimes, his hips thrust up, grazing your core just right and having you mewl in pleasure; every time he hushes you up with slow kisses peppered down your jaw and neck.

His hair is as soft as you remember but his scent is sharper, so manly and mixed with the complimentary shower gel from the ryokan's bathroom. Young Megumi always smelled black coffee to you for some reason and there's still a tinge of it lingering at the back of each breath you take off him. Face hidden against his neck, you soak yourself in nostalgia and novelty alike, surrendering to his touch, greedily wandering along your body. He doesn't spare an inch of it, catching up for years of self-imposed neglect, at times even rough, when he can't stop himself and steals another thrust deep into you, his manly, deep voice breaking when you clench around him.

"I'm gonna cum if you keep doing this," he reminds you of no barrier of protection between you—but you don't care and don't want to think of separating from him for even a second. You've waited for this for too long, it feels so good to finally find a place in his arms, a place that has waited for you since the first time your eyes met with a different intention than a mere look.

You want him to fill you up, you want to feel everything so deep, almost reaching your cervix, and you don't stop even after you reach your peak first, swaying your hips with the same eagerness even if your strength starts to fade away.

Megumi holds you close through it, his arms around you so strong and tight you feel his touch deep in your bones, and finally gives in to pleasure too, fulfilling your untold wish to the last drop.

Your moves slow down and cease naturally, you catch your breaths, snuggled into each other. Megumi's shoulders shake, be it pleasure or tears, and his hands slowly slip down your sweaty back, until he finds your hips—and suddenly sways forward, until you're flat on the futon again, your legs over you, embracing his middle when he finds a new comfortable spot, deep inside and right on top of you.

"More." His voice breaks into begging and he starts to thrust into you without waiting for your answer, with the power of the whole weight his body offers. "Don't let go. Please. I need you more."

"I'm not letting you go," you promise—and you keep it, through this round, and for a few next to come, until the sun replaces the moon and finds your naked, sweaty bodies, entangled with each other in the middle of the only futon left in the last free ryokan in those mountains.

[threepoint14art]

redraw de los funtimes + nuestra oc Michelle!!!!!!!! yay!!!

Michelle existe porque tenia unas ganas gigantes de shippear a Abby pero ya no tenia personas posibles LOL, es una Platalea ajaja <3 Que exista me ayuda poner a lily en el centro porque ella es la que canta y se merece estar en el centro

los dibujos enteros de cada uno :P :

y el frame original de sra cara de papa :9

[nyny-berry71]

You plus me me is not equal us:

Yan/Zeke Jeager x reader

5-

A bottle had been thrown in the endless stream of their lives.

Yet, that night, this bottle seemed to have reached the other’s one soul.

The way they learned so much about an another life’s perspective as the seconds passed seemed to be a fairytale.

That night, they learned to know each other better.

She learned so well, she had forgotten everything about her own troubles.

As the minutes passed next to each other, she was slowly becoming fond of him and his way of being.

Everything about him attracted her.

And when she lingered her eyes on him and saw nothing but the light of her heart, she knew she would never leave his side.

The way he looked at her. His compliments filled with shyness. His attitude towards her. The way he was him.

The manner in which they had so much in common yet so much differences forced her to believe they were connected in some way.

Or that they were destined to meet on that balmy summer's evening.

"I fear you are right on this point but the destiny is quite awful."

She knew he was talking about the events that occurred earlier in the evening so she laughed.

"The destiny is the destiny, we can do no worse nor better…"

She was not able to finish her sentence as she yawned, tiny tears forming at the corner of her eyes.

"I do think it’s getting late and it may be time to take you home. Can I ?"

"No need, as I told you, I live quite away from your home and It would be an unnecessary detour for a warrior who has to get to the training camps at dawn."

"I simply cannot leave the woman I have spent the whole evening with. I owe it to you."

She looked at him with a dubious expression as an answer to his sentence. "The phrasing is certainly strange but I do accept your proposal." She gathered the few belongings she had brings with her and tried to get up from the grass which had long since cooled off.

Yet, the now embarrassed man, stood up quicker than she could and offered his hand to help her to her feet.

When she reached for him, she was not expecting to be swiftly shoved into his arms.

The sudden warm sensation she felt on his chest was the most intense sensation she had ever experienced in her young life.

Put this way, it sounds like the words of a woman of virtue who has never had physical contact with a man.

Indeed, it was the case.

Never in her life did she took the time to write letters to a man or simply talk with one of them.

Her dad was, since the day he had learnt he would be the father of a daughter, a protective one.

Since her early years she was not allowed to have male friends or even talking with one of them.

Her father was deeply concerned about her and could not bring himself to think about a possible relationship for her.

She was his only child, his only baby.

"I’m so sorry, I did not measured my force to pull you. Sorry for the inconvenience."

He sounded as embarrassed as a child.

The right side of her head, which layed on him, could hear his heart pounding faster than the usual as he was starting to stutter and mumble nonsense.

She slowly, but surely, pulled out her head out of his chest and looked up at him. However he was tall enough for her to not grasp the sight of his eyes. She untied her arms and took small steps backward.

"I would be concerned if a warrior had no force… it’s indeed a good sign!"

As to tease him, she pointed her finger at him and smirked eyes closed. The man was still flustered by all his embarrassing actions and could not manage to look at her.

As to notify him it was time to leave, she turned around and walked away.

Well, she did not have to walk too long before hearing him speak.

"…please excuse my lack of manners…it’s so lame of me…"

He finally said on a defeated tone.

As she did minutes earlier, she turned around in a rapid momentum.

The way she did was like out of a romance novel.

Her hairs got blown up in the air by the wind.

Her skirt followed her moving.

And her face sported a serious look.

She dangerously stepped forward him and stopped when she was standing not far from him.

"I’m no army, you just don’t have to be so rigid about your feelings and I bet everything will go on smoothly!"

She used her hands to emphasise her sentence.

"I know it’s hard to do so but if you do it for yourself and only you then I’m sure you will not struggle anymore."

"I know but why is it so difficult to feel part of something then? Why is it hard to understand how the others feel? I’m only doing things because I think it’s what they wait from me."

His head was still low, his fist was tight and she could see him slightly shaking.

She was taken aback by his sudden behaviour towards himself.

During the whole time they spent together, he seemed to have so much confidence, yet something was weighing heavily on his consciousness.

Tender face to his open heart, she steadily moved to his side. And it’s only when she arrived close enough to hear him heavily breathing she stopped.

In a attempt to show him she understood him, she reached for his hand in a gentle gesture. When she felt his warmth between her small palms, she tightened it a little. Just enough for him to finally open his eyes and look at the figure beneath him.

She had a soft smile on her face as she looked up at him.

"I have heard you. I will learn you how to feel better about your own self okay ?"

Her thumb gently caressed the back of his hand. "You don’t have to worry about opening yourself to me, I will never judge you for it. I think for now you only need to rest a bit!"

He didn't seem to want to answer but he wanted to talk to her.

"Have you ever done something for yourself?"

She was amused by his words and giggled just thinking about her answer.

"Of course, live!"

She said it with so much enthusiasm, he had to forget for a moment about his own troubles.

How could you live for yourself and not just to live up to expectations? This question, he was so used to asking it himself he had forgotten people could answer.

"I see… please…don’t change the way you think [reader]."

"Never will I Zeke, now it’s time to take you home! Come on! Follow me!"

She pulled him gently so that he finally moved from his immobility.

"Thank you…[reader]."

He whispered to her his gratitude. Yet the whole world could have heard but she seemed to be the only one who couldn’t grasp his words.

That night, he was the one grabbing the bottle from the stream. And he promised himself he would never put it back in the water.

[our-honeybee-transfem-experience]

my honeybee transfem experience is being gaslighted about what AMAB transfems are like, because I watch other transfems talk about being proud to be trans, being happy to have “clocky” features, being glad they aren’t cis and don’t have to deal with pregnancy, that they wnjoy being tall and having a deep voice etc. but as soon as I say I want those things it’s “proof” that I’m actually a man because “no REAL (amab) trans woman would ever feel that way!!”

Trans women say this stuff openly ALL THE TIME but when they want to invalidate afab transfems suddenly it’s “no one would EVER say that”

.

[nanamis-bigtie]

out of words

↬ nanami kento x chubby gn afab!reader ↬ masterlist // ao3 version

cw: PWP, reader has a vagina, established relationship, plus size reader, vaginal sex summary: just nanami asking his plus size partner to ride him. and being in awe. based on prompt 13 from this list. word count: 1k a/n: repost from the old account. divider by saradika

"Ride me."

It slips past Kento's lips almost unwittingly, like a voice speaking straight from the depths of his subconsciousness. The rhythm breaks: the both of you are utterly confused in the best, most excited way possible, almost frozen in place for a few, heavy seconds.

He releases your wrists, suddenly realizing he held them so hard there will be bruises shaped like his fingers, then shifts his body to the side, pulling yours with himself. You squeeze thighs around his hips for leverage and balance, and he can't help letting out a little, breathy groan of appreciation. He loves the softness, the rolls forming on them flush to his body, the yet tentative moves as you're looking for the most comfortable position for your knees. It's just the beginning and he's already entranced by the feel and views.

From comfortably nestled in pillows, your legs wide open to fit his wide body in between, you're above him now, in your wonderful glory, in power and control over him. As you ease into the new situation, your weight gradually presses close to his hips until you settle on the angle you like. Kento clenches teeth, an inch away from successfully catching a moan; he's much deeper in your now, squeezed tight by your slick, hot walls, and sentenced to obediently awaiting your moves. 

The fear of accidentally hurting you, prior stirred by your wrists, fades now. He grabs your hips with all he's got for your—not to hurry you up nor to pull you closer, but to feel you, to sink his fingers into your softness and to feed his eyes with the dip of your silhouette around them. 

You shift on him for the last time, balance grabbed and checked, and lean slightly to the back, your eyes closed as you sink into the sensation. You start slowly, almost too slow for the both of you, either shy or testing the new waters. Kento holds his breath back, irrationally worried a draft of air might interrupt you; his nails scratch deep at your skin, vertical lines right next to your stretch marks. He's going to kiss them with care later, insatiably sipping on your warmth, but now nothing can peel his attention away from desiring you. He's addicted to the sway of your hips, to the bouncing rhythm you soon pick up, to the flow of your body on top of him. 

Kento can't possibly grow tired of the sight of you in your naked glory. Since the day he's been graced with it for the first time he only grows more and more hungry. He loves every inch of it, whether you love it yourself or not, and usually doesn't shy from praising and adoring it—but now, with you bouncing on his cock, something keeps his words in check. Everything he feels like saying seems inappropriate, too simple and too vulgar. All he can do is to stare, eyes wide open in wonder, lips heavy of breath, and hands full of your curves. He lets them wander at times, to knead your ass or to support you at the waist, but every time the sensation grows too strong to handle, and he returns to your hips in hurry. It can't end like this, not now, when he's still starved, when he knows you can still show him more. 

A rumble of your name follows an especially bold move of yours, and Kento claws at your thighs with desperation. You've caught him off-guard this time, with his hands out of control when you suddenly clenched hard on him, squeezing him deep in your hot slick. He has to close eyes, to spare himself at least the delicious views, but the feeling is right there—your tight cunt, your big and soft ass, your thighs tensing under his fingertips and pressing flush to his sides.

"Fuck—" He desperately tries to keep his hips in check, fights with each desperate attempt to jerk up, fails. "Holy shit—"

He's ready to beg you to slow down and show him mercy, equally ashamed of himself and turned on by the thought alone. You coo something about him squirming and twitching but he can't quite tell words from the stream of your voice. Blindly, he reaches up, hands stopping before they can reach your middle and pawing at your soft tummy. Again, you speak to him, but he's deaf in his pleasure, maybe if he opened his eyes—

He can't open them. If he does, it's the end. If he sees you, messy, disheveled, tired and so beautiful, he won't be able to last any longer. If he takes one more peek of your body bouncing on top of him, of you using him to your pleasure—

"Kento—" You beg him first, your voice drenched with ecstasy and breaking.

Kento can't resist such a melody. He snaps his eyes open as if under a spell.

Your name dies between slurred whimpers when his hold tightens, clawing its way into your skin, and Kento, early, way too early, caves in to pleasure. Eyes plastered to your bouncing tum and his hands sinking in it, now determined to not miss anything if it's bound to happen anyway, he joins the stuttering rhythm of your hips, just on time to push you into orgasm. A few thrusts later, stirred by the tight spasming of your cunt, he follows suit with a loud, the loudest this night, groan. 

For a moment, reality around slurs too, and when he regains control over his senses, Kento finds you in his arms, nestled on top of him, sweaty and breathing heavy. He runs hand up and down your back, smiling at the feel of rolls and softness underneath. 

Your body presses his tight—and yet again Kento reasserts himself his life truly wouldn't be the same if cruel fate ever took this blessed feeling away from him.

"One more time?" He whispers, lips pressed to the crown of your head. "I'm not quite full of you yet, my love."

[svgvru]

suguru the type of guy to meltttt when you say shit like “my boy looks so good today” and shit.. the possessiveness and feeling of belonging does crazy things to him

esp in bed when you refer to his pussy as your pussy(bonus points if you call it your fleshlight) squirting for realsies😁😁

✮ THIRSTIN' FOR...SUGURU! 'n you are so right nonnie! simple words from your mouth could make him fucking swoon. anything, it wouldn't even have to be sexual. but when you are sexual, your words turn him to a pathetic mess! a mimicry of the man he was before you touched him, before you whispered to him. you know you can't say things like that! it'll get his boxers wet 'n then he has to finger himself 'n change. his sense of worth and belonging are shitty, and any praise you give him, specifically possessive-like praise gets him goin'. phrases like:

"that's my man."

"look at my pretty boy today! dressin' all handsome."

"look at my baby" / "thats my baby."

"oh, yeah. that's my pretty pussy."

*with a tap to his thigh "spread those legs, c'mon, let me see m'pussy."

"ion know, i think she likes bein' used as my fleshlight."

"look at this pretty fleshlight ꒰/pussy ꒱ of mine."

the key word is "my." despite how much he may deny it, he has a voice kink. and his brain his wired to your voice specifically and when you use the word "my," he squirting in your face. especially while making him cum, or afterwards?! "look at m'pussy, squirtin' like a waterfall", "my pussy couldn't take anymore, huh?", "c'mon. i know my pussy can do it." he's FOLDING, okayyyy. don't even try w/ a vibrator, he'll last seconds. he likes you stating that your his, that he belongs to you. it fuels his need to be...well needed. especially when you describe him as "pretty," he has zero idea why but it makes him blush every damn time. edit: he also loves it when you talk to his pussy like its a cognitive person. i 100% makes him cum, when you call his pussy a girl?!?! "c'mon girl, squeeze me tighter...im not talking to you, suguru."

long story short, he's a whore for your voice.