#throw them back expertly

[demonwield]

     Send in Hinowa’s Unit as REINFORCEMENTS! 

          I’m sure they’ll HANDLE these GUYS!

Hinowa ga CRUSH! Ch.13 - Rinzu Pt1

[kenntolog]

Ain't cool bf! Sukuna a basketball player? What if he invites loser gf! Reader to play with him while he waits for his team mates to arrive. He purposely arrived earlier than the rest to play (or at least try to lmao) bonus points if sukuna's team mates catches them being all lovey dovey- teasing sukuna in the process

𝝑𝝔 an: fun fact about meee: i played basketball for a couple of months when i was 15 i think :)) toji cameo here hehehe. anyways, hope you enjoy!! read more here!!

as soon as you enter the arena, there is a ball hitting the door next to your face roughly as you shriek and jump away. you pant slightly, holding your hand over your heart as you look over at sukuna who is thoroughly entertained by your reaction.

“sukuna!”

“somethin’ wrong?” you don’t answer him, only glaring a little at his amused smirk as you were just kindly reminded of your first very unlucky meeting.

you close the entrance door behind you and step closer to the court, looking around curiously.

“is there anyone else in here, ‘kuna?”

“no, loser, ‘s just me ‘n you.”

you hum, feeling his arms wrap around you from behind, “so why did you call me here then?”

“i was just bored.”

you don’t say anything in response, worming your way out of his hold and pecking his cheek lightly before you continue roaming around, kicking the balls he previously tossed with your feet lightly, hands itching to try and get it through the rim of the basket. as if reading your thoughts, sukuna calls your name.

“wanna play with me?” he wiggles his eyebrows, spinning the ball expertly on his index finger while your mouth opens in surprise and closes shut in an instant as you look away sheepishly.

“i don’t know how to play tho.”

sukuna steps closer to you, eyeing you down, “nothin’ hard about it, baby, you just do anythin’ to get the ball and throw it ri-ight there.”

he doesn’t even turn his head to look at the basket as he tosses the ball there, which makes your eyes widen in awe as you clap for him excitedly. sukuna ruffles your hair with a soft look on his face, heart warming at your childish reaction, and gets another ball.

his movements get quicker as he manoeuvres around you, ball sharply moving from one hand to another, so quick that you can’t even chase his figure properly, spinning around as you watch him with a mesmerised look. sukuna stops abruptly and locks gazes with you for a second.

“watch and learn,” he says and then expertly tosses the ball into the basket. you don’t really follow his body’s motion, more focused on the ball that flies smoothly over the field, so it’s no surprise that when sukuna gives you the ball to repeat what he just did(or do something similar to get a shot in) you can barely even through it high enough, it’s weight straining your untrained arms.

while sukuna scolds you and basically bullies you into doing what he says, you think about how he could have been a good enough teacher, with his no nonsense attitude and immunity to your whines. but it doesn’t matter when he’s literally bending your body forwards or sideways to warm it up a little before you go for another failed shot, and you can barely think about anything else than wanting to go back to bed.

yet, soon enough his hard work pays off; you give it a one last go and finally get the ball in the basket, an excited scream leaving you as you jump up and down in joy.

“‘kunaa, i did it!” you shout, your voice echoing through the arena as you run towards sukuna and jump on him, wrapping your limbs around him while his arms instantly hold you.

he can’t help his own winning smile as he strokes the top of your head gently, walking around with you hanging off of him.

“knew you could, baby.”

the tender kiss he places on your lips makes your head spin as you reciprocate just as tenderly, slowly letting go of him to stand on your own. sukuna pecks your lips one last time before moving to your cheek and then your neck while you try to contain your lovesick giggles to yourself because he is making you feel things.

“will you kiss me like that too when i also get a point?” comes a voice from behind sukuna, making you jerk away to stand slightly behind him.

you watch him roll his eyes before turning to face the source of the voice — his teammate, toji fushiguro, who’s a total pain in the ass. you are quiet familiar with him not only from sukuna’s stories(more like raging complaints), but also because toji was insistent on befriending you.

“fuck off, fushiguro.”

toji’s smirk widens as his eyes move to you, winking flirtatiously and waving his fingers at you just like he usually does. you give him a small wave from behind sukuna, a tight smile on your lips, before you tug on his shirt to get his attention back to you.

standing on your tiptoes, you kiss his jaw and give him a meaningful look: meaning that he shouldn’t get riled up by toji’s comments or anything towards you. sukuna only nods with a slight roll of his eyess and gently pushes you towards the empty benches.

[greatstormcat]

Thinking about being someone the taskforce boys because very close to, but you don’t work directly with them. Perhaps a medic that they gravitate towards after missions and training incidents. After a a few months you find that the dating pool dries up, anyone you think would be a good candidate for a date starts to flake on you with no notice. Even just trying to get a one night stand becomes harder and harder. Prospective partners just seem to… run scared, even when you seem to be getting on so well.

Sometimes, when a date is agreed, you’ll end up having to cancel because work gets in the way, such as Gaz needs your attention after Soap landed a punch during sparring practice. Once Ghost was having a flare up of his shoulder injury and no one else in the med bay wanted to cover for you because that big bastard was in a bad mood and intimidating everyone. Funnily enough he was perfectly sweet once you appeared and you spent a few hours strapping the injury and chatting.

This goes on the months, the longest dry spell of your life, and the frustration is painted on your face everyday. If you don’t get laid soon you feel you are going to lose your mind. The constant let down was enough to make you weep in your lowest moments. Coupled with the increasing amount of time you were spending around the Taskforce, huge slabs of muscle and menace, you were on a hair trigger.

You’d promised yourself not to turn to them though, they didn’t need some groupie chasing them around, not another one anyway. There were plenty of people on base throwing themselves at Soap and Gaz, and watching them get turned away was painful. Even Price and Ghost had their own fan clubs, but no one was bold enough to be as open about trying to get into their bunks. What chance would you stand with them when they turned away men and women you couldn’t begin to compare yourself to? Enter to stay friends with them.

In the end, you found out about a private club in town that promised anonymous sex in a safe and controlled location. You made your mind up and filled out the application. A few weeks later you find yourself in one of their cubicles, naked, and staring at the padded bench that joins the wall. At the end of it, a large hole with a curtain stares back at you. All you had to do was lie down on the bench and put your lower half through the hole. On the other side, someone would… join you. Or several someones. You’d signed up for multiple partners, maybe doing the form drunk wasn’t wise.

Swallowing your nerves, you take a deep breath and get onto the bench, shuffling down so your feet and hips slotted through the gap. Almost immediately warm, large hands grip your ankles and guide them into stirrups gently. You barely hide the jolt of shock and the accompanying squeak of shock, and the pair of hands run over your knees and shins slowly, comfortingly. It’s an oddly tender gesture for someone who doesn’t know who is the other side of the wall.

Then your eyes roll back into your skull as hot breath fans across your pussy. Finally, you sigh in relief as a tongue licks a light strip along the seam of your pussy. Once the mystery man begin to lick and suck expertly at your clit, making your toes curl and you breath coming in urgent gasps, you barely register the scratch of beard against your delicate skin or notice there’s more than one set of rough hands on your legs.

[mrsriddlenott]

~ First Time ~

Bf!Theodore Nott x Virgin!reader

masterlist

Warnings: Loss of Virginity, Fingering, Oral(f!receiving), Praise Kink(kinda?), Smut&Fluff.

(Im pretty sure I corrected any mess ups but please lmk if I missed any)

You were next to your boyfriend on his bed reading up on Ancient Runes for an exam when you felt Theo’s cold hand rubbing up and down your thigh. As you attempted to keep reading, the added distraction of soft kisses being placed up and down your neck and shoulder, made it quite difficult.

“Keep reading Baby,” Theo’s breath tickled your ear before he shifted his body lower to trail kisses over your collar bones and chest.

You and Theo had done many things together, you just for some reason, never felt quite right going further. There were many times similar to this that Theo would disappear beneath the covers and make you wonder why you hadn’t done it yet, but this time you were positive it’s what you wanted.

Theo’s fingers latched under your leggings and thin lace underwear to pull them off. As he admired you naked in front of him his dick twitched at the thought of what it might feel like to be inside of you. However, if there was one thing Theodore Nott was good at, it was being patient, especially when it came to pleasing his girl.

He kissed and nipped at your bare thighs as you failed to keep reading your book, deciding instead to toss it aside and snatch the blanket off of you both to watch your boyfriend. His piercing eyes stared into yours as he swiped his tongue up from your entrance to your clit, sending a shiver down your spine. One of Theo’s large hands planted itself on your lower belly to keep you from squirming as he flicked his tongue faster.

You let out a load moan at his actions making Theo chuckle against you, “Such pretty sounds Baby,” he whispered before again speeding up his work. You tugged on his soft locks between your legs, making him groan as your back arched and your head fell back. Theo’s eyes never left you as he shoved his middle and ring finger fully inside you without warning.

You let out a shriek of pleasure as his fingers and tongue worked in sync to shock your system. You couldn’t take it anymore, you had to feel him, you had to finally have him.

“Theo I want you,” You could barley speak through moans and gasps as he moved his fingers faster with a chuckle, “Theo please I wa- I need you, right now.” He only grinned and continued his tongue’s pace for just a second before lifting his head to speak, letting his fingers move in and out of you now at a slower pace.

“What’d you say Baby? You’re gonna have to speak up.” Theo grinned up at you as his fingers pressed against your g-spot eliciting a breathy moan of his name.

“I’m ready Theo, I want to, right now.” You sigh out between moans before gasping as his fingers slip out of you, moving to plant himself over your entire body.

His face hovered over yours, one hand holding himself up next to your head as the other caressed your side “Really Baby? You’re sure?” His voice was barley above a whisper as he asked for your consent.

“Yes Theo I am, I trust you.” He smiled down at you, catching your lips in a quick kiss before leaning back, yanking his shirt over his head as he did so. His hands fell to your chest, feeling your nipples grow hard through his white button up as he played with them.

“I do love when you wear my clothes Baby but I am gonna to need to take this off, is that ok?” You nodded in agreement with a wide smile letting his hands go down to unbutton the shirt before you pull it off and throw it aside.

He quickly grabbed your exposed chest with a sigh as his other hand expertly unfastened his belt, pulling it from it’s loops and throwing it somewhere in his room with a loud metallic clank that made goosebumps grow over your exposed skin. His hands left you entirely has he kneeled in front of you to hastily pull down his jeans and boxers before kicking them off.

He slowly repositioned himself above you as your hands trailed up his arms and chest. He spread your legs slightly as he softly brought his lips to yours, quickly exploring your mouth with his tongue. You could now feel how hard he was against your thigh and you excitedly and expectedly squirmed below him.

He slowly slid himself up and down through your wet folds as he pushed himself up to watch your face for signs of discomfort. When you whimpered and whined with closed eyes in response, he could tell you weren’t just doing this for him and kept going.

Theo couldn’t help the smile that came to his face when your eyebrows scrunched together as his tip finally slipped inside you. He eased himself in slowly, stretching you out while leaning forward to kiss down your neck.

When a slightly pained whimper left your mouth he stilled to let you adjust and placed gentle, reassuring kisses across your shoulder before whispering against your ear, “It’s okay Baby, m’gonna make you feel good I promise,” His hot breath and words in your ear had you squirming and clenching on him.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned as he took one of your hands from his shoulders and enclosed it in his own on the sheets beside your head, “Baby can I keep going?” His eyes met yours, barley hearing your whispered reply of yes as he focused solely on you.

He groaned as he sheathed himself further inside you, gripping your hand harder as he felt his tip hit your cervix. Stopping his movements, he trailed his eyes between your bodies to where he disappeared inside of you, making him smile cockily.

“Oh look at you Baby, taking all of me like the good girl you are.” You squirmed around him at his words earning a growl and smile as his eyes returned to you.

He leaned down on his forearm to fully connect his skin to yours and began moving his hips back and forth slowly, taking your lips in his own as his free hand tangled itself in you hair to cradle the side of your head. Your whimpers of pain soon turned into moans of pleasure drowned by Theo’s lips as your hand trailed up and around his neck to get lost in his hair. Theo allows himself to pull out farther with each thrust until he’s practically taking himself out all the way and softly returning as his lips left yours to trail love bites up and down your neck.

“Faster please Theo,” You moaned with your eyes shut as he grinned against the growing bruises on your skin. He slightly sped up his movements with each thrust until he was fucking you at a steady pace. He quickly took note of how your walls were clenching around him and your moans were slowly becoming small squeaks of pleasure before your back arched away from his bed as you came around him with a silent scream of pleasure.

He moaned loudly against your neck at your movements, “Ahhh fuuuck Baby,” His voice was breathless as he slowed inside you, his grip on your hand becoming so tight you thought it could break. “Fuck…do you want me to stop?”

“No no no please don’t Theo,” You spoke between pants that quickly became moans again as Theo’s pace automatically picked up faster than before at your words. He drove himself in and out of you letting you ride out your orgasm as he moaned and groaned into your ear.

“You feel fucking amazing y/n,” He spoke before his dick twitched and his muscles tensed. His body shook slightly as he emptied himself inside you making no move to pull out. He let the lower half of his body fall onto you for a second, one hand still holding yours, before the other removed itself from your hair to push himself up and out of you.

“I love you so fucking much y’know that?” He breathed as he littered your face with kisses. You tried to catch your breath from underneath him as he chuckled happily at you.

“I lo…love you…too Theo” You managed before he left a quick peck on your lips and excitedly hopped up off the bed with a giddy smile on his face to retrieve a towel to clean you with.

~~~~

Feedback??

[honkytonk-hangman]

When Jake Met Polly

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Summary: Jake likes to flirt with his Air Traffic Controller or Jake Seresin has never seen When Harry Met Sally.

Warnings: Not much, fluff, flirting and refs to sex.

Note: This is just a short little idea i've had for agesss... reader has a 'name' but it's just her callsign, Polly, as in, short for Polaris. Ty to @hangmanssunnies i wuv u <3

“Hangman to Tower, I am coming in hot.”

You roll your eyes at the all too familiar voice that crackles through your radio, a smile pulling at your lips as you adjust your microphone and briefly throw a glance over your shoulder, just to make sure your commanding officer wasn’t lingering.

“Tower to Hangman. We are appalled at the gross lack of radio etiquette on display,” you respond. Barely a few seconds pass before you receive a reply.

“Come on, Polly, we've been working together for over a year now, what’s a little informality between colleagues?” Hangman says, and despite his jet only being a blip on your horizon still, you know he’s grinning.

“A commercial airline, Lieutenant.” You deadpan, your own smile growing as his laughter comes down the line. “You are cleared for landing, proceed to runway B,” you continue, not wanting him to have to ask again seeing as his approach was cutting it close already.

“Polly, have I ever told you that you’re my favourite Controller?” He asks as you watch him enter the pattern, and click your pen.

“Only every day we work together, Lieutenant.” There’s a beat of quiet as he expertly manoeuvres his jet toward the correct runway.

“And how sexy your voice is?” He goes on, sounding vaguely distracted.

“Once again, Lieutenant, this is not a commercial airline.” You respond, twirling your hair around your finger at his compliment anyway.

He doesn’t reply, and a shock of horror flickers through you as you watch the jet touch down once, something happening with his landing gear that makes the jet shudder, then seem to bounce momentarily before it drops back onto the tarmac and skids to a stop.

“Hangman, do you require the emergency crew?!” You ask quickly, eyes scanning the aircraft as it powers down fully. You wait tensely as the canopy pops up, and a broad figure jumps out, scrambling down the ladder, and once on the ground, he bends low to get a look at the problem.

“No, Polly, thank you. Seems the landing gear malfunctioned, must’ve been in a position to sustain damage once I landed…” his voice trails off, and you watch him straighten, and greet the ground crew who’d raced over to help.

“Glad you’re safe, Lieutenant. Tower out.” You say as he begins discussing with the crew, but briefly turns up toward the tower and raises a hand.

You let out a sigh of relief and settle back in your seat.

–

Around lunch time you make your way down to the tarmac. Hangman’s jet had been cleared off some time ago, and by now you know reports would have been filed, including your own, and his aircraft will have been taken in for inspection and repairs. You’re milling around the ‘crash’ site, inspecting the scrape marks left behind when you hear footsteps from behind approaching you.

“Can I help you ma’am?”

You know his voice immediately, but you know his face too, and when you at last turn back to him you’re graced by the sight of it, bright and unworried, despite the accident he’d had earlier.

“Oh, don’t mind me! I just watched someone bounce their jet off my tarmac earlier, just checking for potholes,” you tell him wrly. It takes a moment, but his face flashes with recognition and soon he’s taking a step towards you.

“Polly?!” Hangman asks, sounding surprised. You hum in response, then round on him.

“Where is it that you found your qualifications, Liuetenant? We should probably return them,” you tease him. Hangman only takes up a stance and stretches his arms out, his flight suit stretching desperately around his biceps as he does.

“Oh, Polly, if I’d known that was all it took to get you down here, I’d have started chipping bits off months ago,” he flirts shamelessly. You smile at him but don’t speak and after a moment, he drops his arms again, crossing them over his chest instead and blinking at you curiously. “What?” he asks.

Your smile grows, and you shake your head at him.

“Your terrible lines work better when I can see you, that's all,” you inform him, making him uncross his arms and laugh.

“I would say that’s generally the case, even if a guy ain’t me,” he replies coolly. You only shake your head again, and look back out at the expanse of tarmac ahead of you.

“Thanks to you getting your pilots lisence off the back of a cereal box, we’ve ruined our Sleepless in Seattle thing,” you say with a forlorn sigh.

When you look back at Hangman he’s frowning at you in confusion.

“Our what?” he asks. You roll your eyes and turn to face him fully at last, waving your hand as you speak.

“You know, our Sleepless in Seattle thing. We talk all this time, but never meet, and if we cross paths, we don’t realise it? It’s ruined now,” you accuse him lightly. Hangman hums, and seems to think for a moment.

“I get to be Meg Ryan in this situation, right?” he says, making you chortle.

“Well you’d have to be. No way I’d leave 90s Bill Pullman!”

“Well, what if we’re not Sleepless in Seattle? What if we’re more… When Harry Met Sally?” he suggests. You squint at him.

“Have you seen that film? I’m not sure that’s the implication you want to go for…” you ask him, making him falter for a moment.

“That’s the one with the emails right?” he responds unsurely. You laugh again, and shake your head.

“No, that’s You’ve Got Mail.”

“What the hell did I just suggest, then?” 

You stare at him for a moment, and can’t stop yourself from grinning up at him.

“More or less not speaking for like ten years, but on the rare occasion we do meet up, we argue,” you tell him, watching him frown even deeper, and shake his own head this time.

“That would be kinda hard, considering you’re the voice in my head,” he says.

“Oh, so we’re doing Her now!”

Hangman fixes you with a deadpan expression and a slightly smirk.

“I don’t even want to know.”

You laugh at him, and begin walking, unsurprised when he immediately joins you, falling into step at your side. “So,” he begins again after a moment, peering down at you. “Despite playing hacky sack on your tarmac, you still gonna let me take you out?”

You falter briefly, but keep walking, this time glancing up at him.

“I didn’t think you were being serious all those times you asked me out,” you don’t bother hiding your surprise. Hangman looks back at you, squinting, and cocks his head.

“At this point I think you’ve shot me down more than Dagger combined, why would I not be serious?” he asks you, sounding oddly serious. You chuckle.

“Right, so, say if, I don’t know, Rooster got a few more hits on you, you wouldn’t leave me hangin’ would you?” you know you’ll say yes, but you can’t help but tease him a little longer.

Hangman raises an eyebrow at you and grins wide and beautiful.

“You? Never,” he says. “Mostly because I’m legally obligated to respond when you speak to me.”

You lift your own eyebrow and fix him with a wry smile.

“I like that in a man.”

Hangman laughs.

–

“I mean it, your voice is sexy,” Jake tells you once he’s sat back down from replacing your drinks. You can’t help but chortle and stir your cocktail with the straw.

“Really? Me telling you to line up and wait in the pattern gets you going?” you ask. Jake grins, but nods very seriously as he takes a short sip of his beer.

“Absolutely. I also like when you tell me about the weather and conditions, and direct me to land.”

Leaning forward with your elbows on the table between you, you put your chin in your hands.

“I liek when you flirt with me,” you begin, waiting for him to smirk at you before continuing on. “And you don’t realise my boss is in the room, so I just have to respond ‘roger’ and ‘acknowledged’ whenever you say something stupid,” you finish. Jake rolls his eyes and leans forward to meet you.

“To be fair, I’d probably be saying something stupid anyway,” he tells you.

You have to let out a laugh at that and finally lean back again.

“Oh yeah, that reminds me, are you ever gonna tell us all how to ‘bury a fossil’? You know, those things that you famously dig up and do not bury?” you tease, earning another eyeroll. Jake shrugs and copies your movements.

“I foretold Mav’s career comeback, didn’t I?”

You laugh again, but this time, get a good look at him sitting casually across from you, out of uniform and seemingly more relaxed than you’ve ever seen, or heard.

“I like your voice too,” you tell him at last, smiling a little at how he seems to preen at your praise. “Your accent is more pronounced face-to-face though, and you don’t sound like you’re performing all the time.”

Jake takes a sip of his beer and shrugs again.

“Can’t be Hangman all the time,” he says. You make a face.

“I like Hangman. He entertains me at work… but I think I like the guy who hasn’t seen When Harry Met Sally, and has a Fisher-Price pilot's lisence even more.”

Jake laughs and nods at you.

“Splash one,” he says before he leans in to you again. “Toddler’s generally have pretty good taste, in my opinion, they’re all about shapes and colours and boobs… can’t fault ‘em!”

You have to laugh and concede that at least, the two of you clinking drinks before you continue to flirt and chat for the rest of the evening.

When Jake drops you back at yours, you invite him inside, under the guise of lending him your DVD copy of When Harry Met Sally, but when he simply lingers in your living room, you start to consider other tactics.

“Jake?” you say, standing up from ‘searching’ your stack of DVD’s and facing him. “This is the part where you save me from admitting I don’t really own a physical copy of the film by having sex with me,” you inform him dutifully, watching as he straightens up and blinks at you. Then, he’s shaking his head, smiling, and taking a step closer toward you.

“I guess every good rom-com does have an earth shattering lie at its core, doesn’t it?” he steps closer, and this time, anchors his hands at your waist, tugging you into him a little more.

“Let's skip the conflict part and go straight to the happy ending, shall we?”

[nezuscribe]

𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙮 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙚𝙮𝙚𝙨

pairing: miguel o’hara x fem!reader

summary: he’s just too pretty for somebody so stoic. thankfully he’s able to show off for you, knowing just how much you like it. he’s just so easy on the eyes

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, teasing from miguel, not proofread so sorry for any typos 

there’s just something irresistible about miguel o’hara. he knows it. it’s a fact so sure as day that a part of his own hidden cockiness comes from the fact that he feels the eyes travel across the large span of his body, taking in his sheer size as they dart away when he catches them staring. 

but despite the fact that his enormous ego (and his even bigger attitude) derive from some of this attention, there’s really only one person who he cares for to seal the deal. 

you were so nice to him, a large smile greeting him whenever he came into work. it was off putting at first; how somebody could be so cheerful in the morning when everybody seemed to move as though awoken from the dead. 

but slowly you warmed up to him, and he doesn’t know why, but he knows that he treats you differently than the rest of them. 

his words were softer when they were directed at you, a rare and honestly almost non-existent smile on his face whenever you told him about what you had planned for the rest of his week with such excitement that he almost forgot what his job was. 

and he’d be lying if he didn’t say that the way you looked up at him with so much admiration and care in your eyes didn’t do anything to him. he’d also be a blind man if the way you gnawed on your lip, cheeks puffing out in jealously when one of the assistants blatantly flirted with him didn’t send blood rushing straight to his dick.

so it was no surprise that “meetings” in his office became more and more frequent, his paperwork skewed to the side as he made room for you on his desk, your legs wrapping around his waist as you hungrily kissed him like you hadn’t seen him in weeks (it’s been days since you last saw him).

“missed you,” you murmured against his skin, tugging his suit down as he made quick work at throwing your blouse to the side, expertly opening up your bra clasp with one hand as he moved back up to press a sloppy and wet kiss to your lips, nodding feverishly in agreement.

it didn’t take long for him to tug your pants and underwear off, groaning at the slick that connected to your panties, the smell almost knocking him to his knees as you waited (somewhat impatiently given your stance) for him to do what he wanted with you.

“f-fuck,” you whimper into his skin, tears filling up your waterline as he slowly and in a calculated manner drags his arms down your torso, his claws drawing out goosebumps in their wake, “hurry up.” you groan, impatient at the obvious way he’s edging you. 

he flashes you his fangs in a faux debonair smile, a strand of his hair falling into his face as he looks up at you, his large hands holding your mound are you writhe in pure need. 

“needy much?” he muttered, pressing hot kisses just above your clit, where he knows it’s going to drive you crazy, “my pretty girl’s already too dumbed out to answer, hm? haven’t even done much yet sweetheart, y’know?” he mutters, his fingers making obscene sounds as they slowly enter in you with much ease, seeing how you were already dripping seeing him in that ridiculously tight suit. 

you watch him from under your lashes, your mouth watering at the sight in front of you. 

he cocked a brow, noticing just how much you were watching him, more than usual, and he smugly grinned as your nose scrunched up in annoyance and embarrassment, throwing an arm across your face to hide from his heated gaze. 

“can i help you hermosa?” he traveled upward with a small tap on your clit, moving his fingers to grasp your chin, tilting your head upwards to meet his eyes, blown out in sheer need and want for you as his nose bumps against yours. 

“pretty,” you murmured against his lips, feeling the plushness of them against your own as your hands moved up to feel the large expanse of muscle, your nails raking down his skin, leaving light marks in a sort of territorial manner, “so handsome miguel.” you say, and although others have said the same thing, it only mattered when it came from your mouth.

he chuckled, pecking your lips as he moved slightly downward, angling your jaw up with his nose as he found purchase on your neck, inhaling in your scent as he almost went delirious. 

“you butter me up too much sweetheart, ‘specially when you’re lookin’ like this in front of me.” he murmurs, a bit in awe and never getting tired of this as he pumps himself a little bit, too amped up to wait that much longer.

sweet, you always smelled so fucking sweet.

he made haste at biting and sucking, your whines only going straight to his hard cock, making it ache in leak in pre as he marked up your chest, tits, rolling your nipples between his shark teeth as you moaned out pathetically for him. 

he was gorgeous like this; his lips swollen and red, cheeks pink as eyes estranged as he marked you all for himself. he was always like this after a mission, no matter how well it went. all that pent up frustration and adrenaline would be directed to you, and you had absolutely no qualms with that. 

his fingers found your fluttering walls and found them even wetter than before, knowing you too needed him just as bad as he needed you, and he waisted not a second more as he lined his angry tip with your pretty pussy, moaning like he was in heat at the feeling, knowing he wouldn’t be able to last that long in you, especially after not seeing you for as many days as he was gone. 

“i’m ready m-miguel, just please fuck me, p-please.” you whisper, your hands finding his dick as you guided him in, the two of you moaning and throwing your heads back in pleasure as he begins to sink into your warmth. 

“my girl,” he says, his thumb finding your swollen clit as he rubs, picking up his pace after a few seconds of letting you adjust to his size, “my girl.” he says again, but his grip tightens on your hip at his possessive tone. he missed you just as much as you missed him, and he needed for you to know that even if he’s not the best with words. 

his dick rubs along your walls, dragging in and out at the most delicious pace, hitting that spot that makes your walls tighten around him and your legs to wrap around his waist to pull him in even more. 

there was no space in between you two, your heavy and hot breaths hitting each other as you feverishly kiss him again, needing to be connected with him in every way possible, moaning against his lips as he angles himself just right to hit your sweet spot in an even better way. 

“s’good, so good, mhh fuck!” you whine, nails digging into his shoulder, your lips catching between his sharp teeth, piercing the soft skin just enough to draw a little blood, and he grins at the sight. 

“you’re doin’ great babe, perfect for me, god,” his voice is rough, raspy as he feels his release coming at such speed, “you’re mine, need so much.” he mutters and you nod, throwing your head back in clear pleasure, letting him lick a strip up your neck, his pace quickening as the two of you reach your highs. 

he pulls out just in time, finishing in spurts across your chest, and you spasm, missing his dick as you clutch onto his biceps to steady yourself, back arching at the feeling that nobody else but him could give you. 

your chests move in synch, trying to catch your breaths as sweat dots your forehead, coming back from your high as you smile at him, feeling a swell of pride knowing that he only lets you see him in such a debauched way. 

“i’ll have lyla clear my schedule for the day,” he tells himself, glancing over at you as he pulls you closer to his chest as he runs his finger to your lips, grinning at how pliant you are, letting him drop a wad of spit onto your tongue, waiting for his next words as he moves his finger down, tapping your chin to close, “need to show you just how much i missed you.”

[sunsetsimon]

apology - simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader

thanks for requesting anon <3

nsfw ahead! mdni

also sorry i had to rush the end but i promise ill have something better out later!!! - sun

─────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───────

the bed dips as simon lays next to you, finally coming to bed after avoiding you for the last 2 hours. he knew he fucked up earlier when he forgot the main thing you sent him to the store for. you'd been looking forward to trying out a new recipe you'd found online and knowing it'd take a while, you asked him to run to the store and grab some stock for the soup.

"in a bit, dove. 'm gonna finish this workout first," he said when you asked him. you nodded in agreeance, not realizing 'finishing his workout' meant taking an hour run around the neighborhood.

and of course you could've gone yourself, but simon always prefers you ask him to do things like that and you wanted to be patient. he gives you a quick call when he gets to the store, stopping there on his run, "stock, tomato paste, cream and rice. thas'it love?"

as he's on his way home he can't help but feel like he forgot something, it nags at him but he continues anyway. greeting him with a kiss at the door, you grab the bag from him and carry it to the kitchen so he can take off his shoes.

"ugh- simon! i told you to get stock!"

simon stares at you puzzled, but makes an 'oh shit' face when he realizes, "ah fuck! knew i forgot something, i'll go back now."

"it's fine, i'll just have something else," you sigh, leaving the items on the counter and walking away. he tries to stop you, saying he'll be quick but your mood has already been ruined, waving your hand in dismissal. you retreat to your room for a while, reading your book until simon decided to check on you.

"'m sorry about earlier. was being a dumbass and forgot."

"you could've just called me," you reply with a slight irritated tone in your voice, eyes not leaving the page of your book, though you weren't reading anymore.

"i know, i should've," he nods, pulling you to him on the bed, his arms wrapping around your body, his head on your stomach. "i can't make up for it now, but i am sorry."

you reread the page again, attempting to focus on the words. simon's fingers grab at the fabric of your sweatpants, pulling it down to reveal the skin of your stomach and hip. your legs twitch as his wet lips trail kisses along your tummy, his short blond hair tickling your skin. his touch is addicting, you instantly melt into him, a wanting ache growing in your pussy.

he works your pants off, throwing them to the side and pushing your legs open wide. leaning forward, he kisses the wet spot in the fabric, his nose bumping your clit. the muscles in your thighs ripple, flexing to keep them open while he teases you. sticking out his tongue, he flattens it against your clit, his hot breath only making you wetter.

dragging your panties down, he groans at the wet stickiness of your slick on the fabric. taking a deep breath as he holds them to his nose, "fuck, y' smell so good."

"simon..." you whine, feeling like you might die if he doesn't do something. anything.

"g'nna make you cum, dove. as an apology." simon leans down, his mouth latching onto your cunt. he moans against you, pulling you closer as if he could devour your entire pussy. his hips rut against the mattress, grinding down to ease some of the pressure.

he revels in the way you cry his name, desperately fucking yourself onto his tongue. two fingers slide into you easily, pushing deep and curling against that spongey spot that makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. you tug his hair, holding him close to you as he sucks your clit, flicking his tongue on it quickly.

“gonna cum-“ you barely make out, jaw clenching to hold back your moans.

simon only hums against you, raising onto his elbows, pulling your hips into the air. his tongue prods at your entrance, lapping at the sweet wetness thats dripping out of you. his fingers fuck you expertly, pulling you to orgasm quickly. you squeal as you cum, legs shaking and mind spinning as it washes over you. his dark eyes are on you, watching intensely as you writhe in his arms, whining ‘okay-okay’ until he finally stops.

“how was that?” he asks, finally pulling away with a smirk on his scarred lips. his chin glistens, your sweet wetness all over the bottom half of his face. of course he already knows the answer, he just wants to embarrass you.

“oh shut up and come here, simon.”

fuck he’s good at apologies.

[wandanatrules]

My Obedient Little Wife

word count- 1.4k

pairing- dom beefy g!p nat x subby fem reader

summary - Natasha has just made you her wife and she is going to take her time worshipping you

warnings- smut, oral (both receiving), dirty talk, foul language, penetration, humping

note - thank you guys for all the support on my fics! I appreciate those of you who are sending requests. I am going to start working on those asap! please keep sending them in. I am also very grateful for those who message me. I love when you guys talk to me and ask me questions! Please read and interact with all my other fics and I hope you enjoy this one!

“Are you gonna take me to bed Natty?” You asked, looking up at her with those signature doe eyes and the sexy lip biting.

She was carrying you bridal style down the hall of the hotel you were staying at tonight, before you leave for your honeymoon the next morning. Since you had just had your well anticipated wedding, you were ready to finally consummate your marriage and let her claim you as her wife.

“Of course I am Mrs. Romanoff.” She said looking down at you with a smirk before pecking your lips. As soon as she arrived at the hotel room, she quickly unlocked the door eager to get her hands on you. 

“You have been teasing me all day, baby girl.” She said throwing you on the king sized bed. “Walking down the aisle to be my wife, and then changing into this tight little dress to grind all on me in front of our family at the reception. You are driving me crazy.” 

You sat on your knees on the bed looking up into her lust filled eyes. Feeling the need to touch her, you reached up to grope her chest, using one hand to try and unbutton her shirt. Growing frustrated, you used both hands to just pop the shirt open, buttons flying everywhere, finally getting a look at her chiseled abs, before finally getting her aching bulge in your hand. 

“Baby, now you are my bride and I need to worship you, enough about me.” She said moving your hands away, and unzipping your dress. She lifted you up to pull it off completely. She kissed you on your plump lips, much like she did earlier on the altar, making out with you for a little bit, before moving south to your neck. 

“I need everyone to know that you are mine and that I own you.” She growled out between the bruises she was leaving on your chest and the trail leading between the valley of your breasts, aiming to leave more love bites there.

“We need to get this off, so I can see these beautiful tits.” Her hand expertly reached behind you and unclipped your bra, letting it fall off and freeing your perky breasts. “Uggh baby, I will never get over how good you look. These plump tits are all for me.” At this point she was laying on your chest with your tits in her mouth, truly relishing the beauty of these attributes. She felt your breath hitch as she slowly bites the hardened bud, before smoothing over it with her tongue. 

“Please nat, I need you.” You begged, pushing her head down to the place that you desperately needed it. 

“Baby don’t rush, we have the rest of our lives together and tonight I want to take my time with you. She pushed you back down onto the bed, continuing her trail of bruises down your stomach stopping when she got to your pantyclad core.  

“Please natty, please I need you.” You whined, rubbing your thighs together to try and ease the ache. 

“Now little girl.” She said before ripping your thighs apart, “I was excited to have an obedient little wife, but I guess i’m going to have to teach you.” 

She kissed your hips and between your thighs before noticing the wet spot on your white lacy panties, She put her nose on the spot, breathing in your scent before pushing her thumb down onto your clit through the panties. You writhed in pleasure finally feeling her where you need her the most. 

She took the string of your panties between her teeth slowly pulling them down your thighs, until she got them off you completely and put them in the pocket of her suit pants.

Leaning down she stuck out her tongue flattening it before licking a stripe down your cunt. She smiled at the taste, not being able to get enough. “Oh my god baby girl, my wife tastes delicious.” She said licking her lips in satisfaction.

Diving in once again, she starts to eat you out like she’s been starved for a year. She harshly grips your hips and circles your puffy clit with her tongue. You buck your hips up trying to get more of her. She pushes you down and holds you there before picking up the pace, with her assault on your clit. She licks your cunt up and down, before sticking her tongue into your tight hole, fucking you slowly. You feel your breath start to hitch and your thighs start to twitch. You and your wife both knew you were close, so she removed her tongue from your cunt and entered two of her fingers, while going back to licking your clit. 

After her tirelessly eating your pussy, you were finally to your breaking point. You felt the knot in your stomach unravel and you squirted. Nat removed her fingers from your cunt and used two fingers to quickly rub your pussy, to elongate your orgasm. She stuck her tongue out and tried to catch some of your cum, moaning at the taste. 

“My goodness baby, you’re so messy. Look at you squirting all over me, showing off your drooling cunt.” She said flipping you over onto your hands and knees, making you squeal out of surprise. 

“Seeing you like this has made me so hard baby, I just need to fuck my wife’s pussy in order to feel better.” She said before licking the cum off your cunt from behind to clean you up. She then pulled off her belt before stripping off her pants and boxers, leaving you both completely naked. 

She quickly entered into your dripping hole, your tightness squeezing her deliciously. She was already so worked up from eating you out she could’ve cum already, but lucky for you her stamina was incredible. She picked up her pace, fucking you from behind. She focused her attention on your tight ass, rubbing and fondling your cheeks, while you pushed back onto her cock. 

You were panting like a bitch in heat, as she continued to fuck you. You turned your head around to face her looking at how good she looked pounding into you. You pucker your lips signaling your need for a kiss. She leaned forward to kiss you, sloppily making out as you strained your neck. Her hands traveled up to cup your breasts and tweak your nipples.

She picked up the pace, feeling you getting closer as your cunt squeezed her aching prick. You felt her big dick in your intestines, as she pushed on the bulge appearing in your stomach. 

The knot in your stomach unraveled for the second time tonight, leaving you to cream all over her cock. She guided your hips backwards to help you through your orgasm and put her over the edge. 

“Dammit baby this pussy is so tight, it’s like it was made for me.” She said, slapping your ass and pulling you back deeper, using you as her own personal sex toy. This was enough to send her over the edge, and blow in your cunt. Her hot, wet stream of semen had traveled down your insides and filled your belly.  

You got up and turned around, both of you kneeling in front of each other. You looked into her eyes before leaning down to put her penis in your mouth. You sucked on the head before licking the shaft up and down to clean off your shared arousal. She sucked in a breath, still sensitive from her previous orgasm. She grabbed you by the hair holding you there so she could thrust her hips up into your mouth while you gagged on her.

This was one of the most beautiful sights for her to see, so it didn’t take much for her to cum again. Another hot, wet stream of cum sliding down your throat, as you swallowed every thing she gave you. She then pulled you off of her and up by the hair to kiss you again. When the kiss grew heated, you took charge and pushed her back on the bed, straddling her waist. Your clit sat on her dick and you roughly grinded on her while making out. Your tongue entered her mouth as she sucked on it. You were panting in her mouth as you wildly humped her. 

“Baby, if we don’t slow down I'm afraid we are gonna have a honeymoon baby.” 

[nakahras]

᯽ wet dreamz • osamu dazai

synopsis • you’ve been having some dubious dreams about one (1) osamu dazai and you let it slip.

warnings • swearing, lucid dreaming, fem!reader, ņsfw, dazai (he needs his own warning, yes), nickname “bella” is used, hair pulling, some light hand stuff/teasing, oral (f -> m), no set dynamic (both parties switch), masturbation (f), clothed sex, edging, finger sucking, slight choking, creampie, overstimulation, pussy drunk dazai, this is a long one >.<, also mildly unedited

wc • 6.8k

a/n • ahahahaha i don’t know

his hands are all over you, all at once, but it’s still not enough. you can’t pinpoint why because in all honesty it should be borderline overwhelming. but it’s not.

maybe you’re just greedy. you’ve been waiting for this for so long that you’ve been dreaming about it. dreaming? something washes over you and, once again, you can’t place it. you shake it off internally. how could you pay anything much attention when what you should be paying attention to is the man underneath you pawing at your skin.

he’s demanding all of your attention and you’ll gladly give it to him. you don’t remember how you got here, or how you got his shirt off but you dip down and kiss his exposed and surprisingly sun kissed skin. everything is blurry, the feeling of his skin under your lips, the image of him shirtless underneath you and the sensation of his nimble fingers kneading at your ass. 

before you can overthink it, he gets impatient and guides your hips to grind down on his hardened crotch. your mind is the next thing to become blurry. you straighten up and throw your head back as the sensation of the friction overtakes your senses. you want more, need more.

as if the brunette could read your mind, he’s tugging at your panties. it’s only then that you realize, he’s pantless as well. things felt like they were going too fast and also too slow all at once. you sit yourself back down on his length and continue to grind down on him.

your head is swimming and distantly you hear ringing in your ears. you ignore it though, the sounds of his moans drowning out any other noise. his grip on your bottom tightens and he lifts your hips up expertly aligning himself with your entrance.

he’s about to sit you back down and stretch you out but the ringing gets louder and everything goes white.

᯽•᯽

you woke this morning in a pool of your own sweat — thighs rubbing together desperately seeking out the same sensations you experienced in your dream. 

now you’re sitting at your desk feeling extremely embarrassed and, frankly, frustrated that you had yet another wet dream about your coworker, dazai osamu. 

you let out a huff while typing up a report on yesterday’s case. of all people in this office it just had to be the most insufferable of them all. why did he have to be so gorgeous? why couldn’t you think the same of kunikida? hell, even ranpo would have been a better choice than dazai. you think your subconscious is cruel. laughing at you, making fun of you by giving you wet dreams. you felt like a fucking teenager. hell, you don’t think you even had wet dreams when you were an adolescent going through puberty. how utterly embarrassing.

you let out yet another exasperated sigh, brows furrowed and fingers typing furiously. you were making a spectacle and your deskmates had long since noticed your sour mood. atsushi and kunikida were the smart ones, they simply let you be, figuring if you wanted to talk about it you would bring it up. 

dazai, however, is nosey. his natural curiosity always getting the better of him. he builds a simple paper airplane and shoots it through the air. it lands right on your keyboard and your aggressive typing finally ceases. you stare at the airplane as if you’ve never seen one in your entire life. you refuse to look up, fearing that if you look at dazai you’ll be reminded of what your subconscious thinks of him. you don’t think you can handle that quite yet.

dazai watches, slightly perturbed, as you seem to try to make his little creation spontaneously combust. no matter how unsettling, dazai still isn’t deterred. atsushi shoots him a warning look, as if to say this wasn’t a good idea. the brunette blatantly ignores the boy and wheels himself over to your part of the desk, which was a show in itself since you’re on the complete opposite side of where he was sat. that means dazai has to push himself past either atsushi or kunikida. of course, him being the menace that he is, dazai chooses the harder path of going around kunikida.

you don’t see it because you’re still having a staring contest with your little gift but kunikida’s eye twitches as dazai swivels past him. the blonde was going to take the high road though. he was going to let it slide since you seemed to need the distraction. but dazai was clumsy and clipped his wheels on the ones of his partner’s chair. kunikida’s eye twitches and he can’t help himself.

”dazai…” it’s a simple warning. one that the brown eyed detective promptly ignores.

dazai makes it to you without another hitch and gingerly reaches over to replace the airplane with a paper rose.

you blink. stare some more. then finally look up. “dazai, what the fuck?” 

“oh c’mon, bella. you’ve been in a mood all day. i thought a rose would cheer you up enough to tell me what’s got you in such a sulky mood.” dazai pouts at you and it takes everything in you to look away for your sanity.

you can feel your cheeks heating up by just the small interaction. if these dreams persist, you’re not sure you can keep your composure. you were barely hanging on by a thread as it was. you distantly think maybe it’s your subconscious telling you that you need to get laid. you almost scoff at the thought.

yes. it has been some time since you last slept with someone, but there is no way that was causing the dreams. if that was the case you would be having dreams about more than just dazai. he was simply plaguing your mind and you think you might go insane if this kept going on. 

so instead of dealing with it like a sane person, because you aren’t right now, you decide to take it out on the very man that has been haunting your mind. “i’m trying to get my work done and i’m certainly not in the mood. go bother atsushi if you’re bored, dazai.”

you hear a small complaint come from across the desk and look up to see atsushi giving you an accusatory expression. you immediately feel guilty for throwing him under the bus and finally relax for the first time all day. you toss the weretiger an apologetic smile then whip around to glare at dazai for a moment.

”i changed my mind. you’re buying me lunch at the cafe. let’s go.” you don’t give dazai any time to answer. you save your work, shut your laptop and promptly stand up and walk off. you weren’t going to give dazai any room to argue. you figured if he didn’t follow then he wasn’t that curious and you got to enjoy a break in silence.

unfortunately you hear dance-like footsteps coming from behind you, indicating that dazai was, in fact, following. you both step into the elevator and about halfway down dazai finally opens his mouth.

”so, what’s got a beautiful woman such as yourself in such a mood today?” his smile is lazy and eyes dull.

you hate this. you hate when he acts like this. you do genuinely like dazai, just not this version of him. the shut off version, the one that puts on a facade and plays with people for fun. you don’t have much time to think about it though. the elevator jolts to a sudden stop and dings, indicating that you’ve made it to the ground floor. you scurry out of the small space and make your way to the cafe. 

when you enter your mood instantly sours seeing that it wasn’t lucy in today, but rather the waitress dazai is always making eyes at and wistfully requesting her to perform a double suicide with him. you muster up a smile to offer the owner and wave at him before taking your seat at one of the booths. dazai plops himself on the other side across from you.

the waitress comes over and you brace yourself for the encounter that’s about to transpire. dazai watches you closely, head tilting to the side curiously. 

“welcome, detectives, what can i get you started with today?” her smile is sweet and you feel bad for your previous annoyance. it’s not her fault dazai doesn’t understand the art of subtlety. 

dazai speaks up before you can get a chance to. “go on, bella, you order whatever you want.” dazai addresses his attention to the waitress next. “everything will be going on my tab, miss waitress.”

”how very generous of you, mr. dazai. i assume you finally invested in that life insurance policy i recommended?” her smile is sweet but her words are clipped and condescending. you let out a little snort as dazai starts to sweat a little. 

before dazai can quip back, you order. “i’ll take an iced latte and the sandwich of the day, please.”

“of course miss. what about you, mr. dazai?”

dazai almost shrinks at her faux warm demeanor. “i’ll just take a cup of coffee.” 

you raise your brow at him disapprovingly and before the waitress can scurry off you quickly get out, “can you make sure my sandwich is cut in half?”

she smiles at you genuinely and nods her head. after she walks off you catch dazai staring at you once again. you know he’s about to speak again and you dread whatever it is that’s going to fall from those surprisingly full lips of his. 

“so, are you going to tell me what’s gotten your panties in a twist all day?”

nice.

how eloquent of him. 

you scowl at him and hiss out, “could you not refer to it as that?”

”sorry, bella. would you rather i ask why you’ve been so sour all day in a different way?” dazai grins at you clearly pleased at getting a rise out of you. 

you huff and roll your eyes. “would you believe me if i told you it’s because i had a dream of you?”

”oh? did you now? what was the dream about? you must regale me with all of the details.” dazai sets his elbows on the table in between the two of you. his fingers intertwine and he rests his head atop his hands. 

it’s almost eerie, the way he’s looking at you but you can’t quite place why. you wince internally realizing your mistake. how the hell are you supposed to tell dazai that you fantasized about— no. you didn’t fantasize, it was a dream. a creation of your subconscious. not of your control. you want to shrivel up and die. 

how the hell are you supposed to explain that to dazai?

you don’t. it’s the only sane reasoning you can come up with. but now you have to scramble to come up with something to dazai. the longer you just blankly stare at him the more suspicious he’s going to get. you can see it in the way his eyes become hooded and his right brow shifts up.

dazai perks up a bit and, oh god, here it comes. the realization you’ve been dreading. “don’t tell me you dreamt about me in that way.” he hums dramatically. “what a naughty girl, thinking about your colleague in such a way~”

you involuntary freeze. sure you knew this was coming but there is no way he saw through you that easily. he came to that conclusion so fast and you know for a fact you aren’t an easy person to read unless you want someone to. he couldn’t have just picked up on your thoughts like that. no, you have to remind yourself this is dazai osamu. he could have done exactly that. regardless, you refuse to admit it to yourself, let alone dazai.

“absolutely n-“ you’re cut off by the waitress dropping off your drinks and the sandwich. 

clearly she understood what you meant by your earlier request because she brings you an extra plate. you thank her one more time before she walks off. placing the slightly bigger half of the sandwich on the extra plate and scooting it towards dazai.

“eat.” he looks at you curiously but obliges when you give him an expectant glare.

you know he won’t drop the previous subject but luckily for you he’s too busy with eating to make much conversation. you both enjoy your respective halves of the delicious sandwich in silence. it was peaceful, a stark contrast to what usually transpired when you’re with dazai. you observe him quietly, subtly, as you chew on the last bite of your food.

he’s picking at the bread after only two bites. his coffee was finished within the first few minutes of it being set in front of him. a clear avoidance. keeping himself busy with sipping on his coffee so he wouldn’t have to eat. the few bites were to appease you. unfortunately for him you know all of those tricks, maybe a little too well.

you cross your arms over your chest and think about this tactically, you know if you scold him outright he’ll brush it off easily. you have to think like him for a moment. what would he do if your positions were switched.

playing dumb. “you know, it’s not very polite to let a lady eat more than you…” 

you pout and look away from him, trying to seem embarrassed. you’re not sure if it’s worked. you’re honestly too nervous to look. you think it must look real because you’re now actually embarrassed by the probably god awful acting you just displayed.

but then you hear distinct chewing and peak over to something that pleasantly surprises you. he’s taken another two bites, significantly larger than the last two, because he’s almost finished with the sandwich by the time you fully turn to look at him. 

for the first time all day you finally crack a smile at him and let out a fit of giggles. dazai almost chokes on the sandwich from the sound alone. it’s a sound he’ll never get used to nor will he ever get tired of it. you’re too busy trying to calm your giggles to notice dazai’s internal struggle as he finishes off his own food all the while staring at you in amazement.

you take a few calming breaths and look at him, still all smiles. dazai resists the urge to clutch his chest, something in it stirs — an extremely alarming and foreign sensation for him. dazais nerves are suddenly on fire. he suddenly recalls what you said earlier, how you dreamt about him. he knows you planned on denying his earlier implications but the way you paused makes him think you were having those types of dreams about him. 

dazai’s fingers twitch at his sides. he’d be lying if he said he didn’t think of you like that. hell, he’d probably have the same types of dreams if he actually dreamt. dazai’s breathing shallows and he need to get away from you. his self control thinning with each passing second he thinks about you in the most intimate of ways. 

he knows it’s wrong. at least in your case you can’t control it. but here his is, shamelessly fantasizing about you like you aren’t sat right in front of him. dazai disgusts himself. he wants to bash his head in, his thoughts swimming, making it hard for him to focus. vision blurring and ears rushing like there’s water stuck in them.

dazai abruptly stands up and announces, “we should get back to work. kunikida will get on us if we take any longer.”

you’re so perplexed because when has dazai ever cared about what kunikida thinks about? then you notice it, the unmistakable bulge straining against the crotch of his pants. you swear you didn’t mean to look, it was just currently at eye level. you’re suddenly given an opportunity, something you need to make a decision on and quickly. 

as calmly as you can, you slide out of the booth and wave to the owner and waitress before grasping onto dazai’s hand and dragging the brunette away with you. dazai is far too dazed to protest at how assertive you’re being. you lead the way to the elevator and the ride there is painstakingly quiet and slow. the second the contraption dings and the doors begin to open you’re slipping through with dazai still in tow.

the lanky man is thoroughly confused when, instead of going back to the office, you shove the two of you in the supply closet. he wants to ask but something tells him he doesn’t need to. your body language gives way that you’re going to explain yourself.

thank god there’s a lock on the inside of this room. you really did not want to relocate to the bathroom for this. dazai is still dazed, unsure of what’s happening, just letting you toss him around like a rag doll. everything is still on fire making him feel detached from his body. the sensation is almost numbing.

“you know what’s so frustrating?” your breathing is just as shallow as his is now. the ride on the elevator working you up far more than it should have. 

although he’s detached, your voice anchors him. he looks down at your flushed face and he almost whimpers at the sight. he croaks out, “what is?”

“you. you’re so frustrating. your stupid act, your stupid need to play dumb, your stupid big brown eyes, your stupidly long fingers, your stupidly handsome face and your stupidly careless actions. y’know, you’ve had a hard on since you stood up at the cafe. practically shoved it in my face.” you have him trapped, his back is hitting the end of some shelves.

you don’t touch him yet. you look up at him and gauge his reaction. he seems to be battling with what he should say and you could laugh in triumph. you’ve never seen someone render the dazai osamu speechless, but you just did it with a few suggestive sentences. 

dazai takes a shuddered breath collecting his wits before grinning down at you after fully processing your words. “my apologies, bella. that wasn’t my intention, but what is yours? this is quite the damning position you have me in.”

your confidence falters but you quickly recover and click your tongue. “it would be rude of me to not help you calm down… especially if i was the cause.” 

you look away, embarrassed by your own proposition. dazai takes a moment. he knows what you’re implying, he’s sure of it, but he’s having a hard time wrapping his head around it. after what feels like an eternity— it’s not, you’re just being dramatic— it finally clicks in dazai’s head. you’re being serious, if the look on your face is any indication. 

the detective hums and reaches out. his hand cups your face and glides up into your hair, fingers tangling with the strands and tugging just a little too harshly to be considered gentle. he was needy, you could see it in the endless sea of honey that are his irises. something was stirring. 

“how am i supposed to say no to that? i’m a weak man, unable to deny a beautiful woman when she makes such an enticing offer.”

you don’t have time to bite back with a witty comment because his lips are quite literally crashing into yours. the second his chapped lips make contact with your own every single touch and action from him comes from a place of desperation. although skilled, his actions are sloppy and almost rushed. his free hand grips your waist and draws you even closer. 

your hands land on his chest to brace and balance yourself. you try to catch your breath but dazai is proving that difficult with how his tongue dances along your own. his actions steal your breath away from you and make your lungs burn, screaming for relief and air. 

the lack of air and the sensation of dazai’s tongue tangling with your own dizzies your head. you can’t get a proper thought out. instinctively your mouth is moving with his, tongue smoothing over his, and hands fisting at the cloth on his chest but you couldn’t move out of your own volition. 

dazai pulls your head back by once again tugging at your hair. you let out an involuntary whimper, making sure to stay quiet as you gasp for air. dazai dips his head down and speaks in between littering kisses on your neck.

“i thought you were going to help me calm down, bella. so far i’m doing all the work and now i’m far more worked up than i was in the cafe.” 

his words bring you crashing down to reality and you scowl. of course he would still tease you. he loves getting a rise out of you. 

you don’t entertain him, though. instead your hand travels down his torso and starts tugging at his shirt. you pout at him mockingly. “i didn’t realize some mild kissing would work you up so much. ‘didn’t realize you were so sensitive -- so needy.” 

dazai wants to quip back at you but as you’re talking you’re undoing his pants and your last word is emphasized by you shoving your hand down his pants. your hand almost falters when you realize he’s not wearing anything underneath. instead, though, you take your index finger and teasingly run it along his length. it feels endless, he’s long, you realize. you briefly wonder just how far, how deep, he could reach inside of you. 

dazai shudders at the feather like touches to where he needs attention the most right now. you lean up and with your free hand you tug on dazais collar to bring him down to your level. your breath fans over his ear and, god, he shudders again. 

you hum. “‘s this where you need attention right now?”

“yes.” dazai breathes out the word. clearly affected by the way your finger is twirling around the leaking tip of his cock.

you maintain eye contact with dazai as you sink to your knees. the implication alone has dazai’s nerves coiling tighter. he brings his hand up to cover his face, head falling back as he groans. his breathing becomes more erratic as you withdrawal your hand, he barely contain a whimper from falling past his lips at the loss of contact. but you make quick work of shocking his pants halfway down his thighs and finally freeing his strained length.

your mouth begins to salivate involuntarily. his cock is surprisingly pretty and just as you suspected — his length is impressive, definitely above average. the leaking tip is flushed pink and his veins are visibly throbbing. you want nothing more than to choke on it but first, you think you need to tease him some more.

you rest your cheek on his trembling thigh and stare up at him innocently. “osamu.” he could cum, right then and there with the way you say his given name.

dazai looks down at you. the sight in front of him bringing him embarrassingly closer to release. all dazai can muster is a hum of acknowledgment and even that sounds a little pained.

you smile at his obvious desperation. “if i help you out here you need to follow a couple rules. be quiet and no touching. think you can do that for me?”

dazai tries so hard to pay attention to your words but barely registers them. did you say no touching? no touching what? and him being quiet? a bold request of him.

you seem pleased with how quick he is to nod at you in obedience. you waste no time, ready to indulge both of your fantasies. you lick a long stripe along the vein on the underside of his cock. dazai is twitching at the one action alone. how embarrassing of him — you both have the same thought. 

the brunette’s fingers itch to touch you but his mind is coherent enough to remember your stipulations. no touching. how cruel of you. to resist that temptation when you’re making him feel this good is just downright wicked.

you don’t miss the way his fists clench in a desperate attempt to keep his word. how could you not reward him for that? listening to you like such a good and obedient puppy. your tongue darts out to swirl around his flushed tip. the taste of his precum floods your tastebuds and you’re instantly hooked like an addict to their drug of choice. dazai’s taste was your new vice. 

your lips wrap around his head and you hollow your cheeks. dazai is panting. his head spinning from the pleasure at just the slightest of touches from you. his head hangs back and he brings his fist to his mouth and bites down. he wants to groan, wants to whimper, wants to moan your name. but you’ve denied him that privilege and he has a feeling that you would be merciless if he gave in and disregarded your requests. 

you take more of him with each bob of your head and with each stroke of your tongue you unravel the tight coil that had formed in dazai’s stomach. he was already so close. what a sight it would be to watch you choke over him as he spills everything he has directly down your throat. the thought almost undoes him. he bites down on his fist harder and he thinks he may have broken skin.

you observe dazai and it’s all so hot. his pants, his facial expressions, the way sweat is starting to form on his face and cause his hair to stick to it. you can feel yourself getting worked and you’re impatient. thank god the weather permitted you to wear a pencil skirt instead of the usual slack you usually wear. you use your free hand to bunch up your skirt at your waist. the actions makes your movements on dazai’s cock a little sloppy. he hadn’t noticed yet but his brows furrow as if he’s starting to. you try to fix your pace but it’s too late. he is already picking up his head and peering down at you. 

you were trying to touch yourself. if his head wasn’t already spinning this is what would be what sent him into a spiral. you had the audacity to call him needy but then in turn do something like this. it was unfair. 

Dazai can’t help himself. “bella, are you trying to touch yourself?” it comes out as a teasing whisper. you don’t miss the amusement in his voice. 

you suppose you asked him to stay quiet, not to stay silent.

still, your brows furrow and you ever so slightly graze your teeth against his cock. the sensation is something dazai sickeningly loves. his eyes are rolling back into his head and he let’s out a short moan. it’s quiet and you’re quite annoyed that he’s found a loophole. 

you can’t deny that his noises aren’t doing something for you, though. you’re even more desperate than before to slip out of your panties. you maneuver around and manage to shimmy them off. it’s almost embarrassing how wet the crotch of them are. you try to care but you just can bring yourself to do so when dazai’s hips begin to thrust and force the small bit of his length you’ve been unable to touch down your throat. 

you gag around him and dazai’s grasping at the shelves behind him for leverage. you spread your legs the best you can, being on your knees like this and sneak your hand up your thigh. you can feel the heat radiating off of you. you run a finger through your slick and moan around dazai when the digit brushes your clit.

“fuck, fuck, fuck ‘s so good, bella. your mouth ‘s so perfect for me.” his voice is hushed and breathy.

you’re not even listening to his babble as your nose continues to brush against his pelvis every time your sucking him back into your mouth. gagging, choking, on his cock. your eyes are watery, tears spilling from that and the sensation coming from below your pelvis. your finger makes expert work of your clit.

it’s too much.

you can’t breath right, dazai can’t think right, you gag with every thrust, dazai can’t control his stuttering hips, your one hand is playing with yourself and the other reaches up to cup dazai’s balls. 

it’s not only too much for you, it’s too much for dazai. the added sensation makes nerve, every cell, every fiber that makes up dazai ignite. he was about to cum, he needed to warn you. he needed to open his mouth and say something but it just flapped, no noise was coming out.

you bob your head back and peer up at dazai, his erratic breathing becoming suspiciously loud. the look on his face is absolutely breathtaking — it’s flushed, almost beet red, tears of his own trickle down his cheeks in droplets. he looked like a fallen angel, beautiful and dangerous all at the same time. 

you moan at the sight. fingers traveling down to your entrance and slowly pushing through. you suck in a breath and fold your lips over your teeth to keep yourself from grazing his length with them. the initial stretch feels divine but your fingers themselves aren’t enough. you need dazai’s twitching cock inside your cunt.

you note that dazais cock is throbbing painfully and starts to twitch quite a lot.

oh, you realize, he’s going to cum. 

you smirk deviously. you push your mouth down on dazai until his tip is hitting the back of your throat. with your eyes still on him you hollow your cheeks and swallow. dazai almost yelps at the added stimulation. his head snaps up and finally his attention is on you.

“shit.” he hisses, this time a little louder, so you glare up at him. “sorry- sorry but- fuck- gonna cum, please, ‘m so close.”

the second those words leave his mouth you’re backing up and removing your fingers from yourself. dazai let’s out a mangled noise, something between a sob and laugh. it was almost unnerving but the blissed out look on dazai’s face tells you he’s enjoying this game far more than the average person.

you watch his chest heave, his breathing heavy. his face is as red as a blooming rose. you think it’s a sort of beautiful sight to see. dazai never gets flustered, so seeing him like this, you can’t help but to feel special. 

you stand up as you pout at him, mock empathy written all over your face. “sorry, did you wanna cum? don’t think i can have that quite yet. not when you haven’t even fucked me. right, osamu?”

there it is again, the sound of his given name falling from your lips. something in dazai snaps. the thread of his sanity that you’d been stretching thin ever since the cafe finally tore in two. his eyes darken dangerously and you only have a moment to realize the shift before he’s picking you up by your thighs and wrapping them around his thin waist. you can feel his stiff cock lightly bouncing against your ass as he flips you around and pins you against the shelves.

his head dips down and he lips scant across the skin of your neck. he’s careful to only leave feather light touches. scraping the rough skin of his mouth on one of your most sensitive areas sends a shock of electricity through your body. you so badly want to tug at his hair but you’re coherent enough to realize your fingers are still coated in your own slick. 

you smile slyly at the detective as he peers at you through his ridiculously long lashes. you grab his chin delicately and bring your soiled fingers to his lips. his eyes light up in immediate realization. he wordlessly opens his mouth, tongue lolling out a bit as he happily waits for his treat like a puppy, you can practically see his tail wagging. you let out a breathless laugh, because you think you may be screwed. dazai osamu has you wrapped around his pretty and lithe fingers and you think he already knew that. 

you think about making him beg for it but you’re so momentarily mesmerized by the brunette that you find yourself leaning in and gently interesting the digits into his mouth. dazai is quick to appreciate your offering. his lips encase your fingers and his tongue makes quick work of lapping up and savoring your taste.

dazai’s hip involuntarily rut into yours and you can’t help yourself. all the pent up frustration you’ve felt since the dreams started finally gets to your head. you’re desperate to feel him inside of you. a sensation you were always denied of, waking up before actually getting fucked by the very man holding you each time. you reach down to guide his cock then expertly shift your hips and he becomes perfectly aligned with your entrance. dazai is sucking on your fingers but his actions become sloppy as he watches what you’re doing with intense concentration.

you waste no time sinking yourself down on his length, he’s already well coated in your slick and eases into you. you bite on your lip to avoid making any obscene noises but dazai snaps you into reality when he carelessly moans loudly. you panic and shove your fingers further into his mouth. he hums appreciatively and if his hips rocking into yours didn’t feel so good you’d hop off his cock right then and there and leave him blue balled. you could bring yourself to do that though, not when you’ve been waiting for this for so long.

you settle for hissing out, “shut the fuck up, dazai.” 

dazai gives you a shit eating grin as he snakes an arm under your ass and squeezes before slowly shifting his hips away from yours, leaving you virtually empty, before sliding himself back into you at the same painstakingly slow pace. he repeats the slowed movements a few times before you’re slipping your fingers out of his mouth and bracing yourself on his shoulders. you try to move your hips on your own but dazai is quick to catch you.

“ah, ah, bella. can’t have you doing whatever you want right now. unless you want me to get louder, you’ll let me set the pace.” his voice is slightly strained and hushed, but despite his seriousness, you can hear the tiniest bit of teasing mixed in.

you let out a whine but resign to him setting the pace. in the meantime your fingers find their way to his hair and tug. dazais hips stutter, showing you that he is far too needy to take full control. taking full advantage of just how distracted he is, you grind your hips into the detective’s with each thrust and dip your head to leave sloppy wet kisses along his jaw and down his neck.

“shit, you’ve been so wound tight all the time lately that even your perfect cunt has a vice grip on me. it’s so perfect, feels so good.” you can tell how hard dazai is trying to be quiet and you note that you should reward him for that later.

it doesn’t take long for his pace to increase, his rapid movements making the shelves behind you rock and creak. dazai still seems displeased with the pace, his brows knitting together in concentration. you catch his eyes flitting to your neck and lingering there. 

you’ve always worn your tie loose, the first couple buttons if your dress shirt undone. it drives dazai mad. your neck and cleavage are always on display in the most tasteful way. he wants nothing more than to run his hand over your velvety soft skin and wrap his nimble fingers around your neck. now that he has the chance to do so, he can’t pass up the opportunity.

your grip in his hair tightens as he shifts you, keeping you up with one arm as he keeps his pace. you have no room to question him when the new positioning has his cock nudging your sweet spot so deliciously. your head becomes dizzy and your mouth falls open in a silent moan. 

dazai’s hand travels up your body, palm flush with your skin so he can feel every bump and curve. he starts at your upper abdomen and slithers it up. he completely ignores your breasts which you vaguely think was his goal. you have no time to act surprise over it bc his hand is gently wrapping around your neck. he wants to squeeze, fingers twitching, but he resigns to a light grip to simply test the waters. 

your response is something he wasn’t expecting. your eyes roll back and you let out a hushed whimper. that’s when he realizes, he wants to do this forever. he wants to fuck you senseless so he can see that beautiful expression on your face forever. so he can feel you tightly wrapped around him forever. dazai wants you forever. the fleeting thought scares him just a little but he has no time to dwell on it because the coil in his stomach is unraveling once again.

“dazai-“ your interrupted by him bringing you in for a sloppy kiss. you think the noises from the kiss alone are far more obscene than the noises from him bullying his cock into you, which is a hard feat considering those are, by no means, quiet or pure. 

when the brunette detaches himself he breathes out. “osamu- shit- ‘s osamu…”

“osamu. ‘m gonna cum. so close- please.” you let out a quiet sob as you babble.

dazai has no time to respond. it’s embarrassing, the way he can’t even give you any other warning but him shoving his face in your shoulder, grip tightening around your throat ever so slightly. the whimper he lets out tells you everything you need to know before he starts spilling his cum inside of you.

the throbbing of his cock and sensation of him filling you up has your walls contracting and you’re diving off the deep end yourself. you bite your lip hard. desperate trying to keep yourself from making more noise than the whines sticking in your throat. your vision blurs and and hearing goes muffled as your senses become overwhelmed by your high.

dazai is still rutting his hips into you, guiding you through your orgasm despite his twitches and obvious overstimulation. when you come back to your senses, dazai is whimpering a lot louder than previously. his grip on your neck is lost as he leaves soothing strokes on your side. you tug at his hair to lift his head so you can look at him.

his face is somehow even more flushed than earlier, you’re almost concerned. the look in his eyes though makes something stir inside of you. his glazed over and hooded eyes, completely unfocused. his lips parted as he’s letting out short and shuddered puffs of air. dazai has lost all senses but the feeling of him inside of you. 

“osamu. hey- look at me. you need to calm-“ you his when his rutting becomes more intense, thrusts becoming less shallow but hips and cock still twitching wildly, you have to stop him otherwise you’ll both lose yourselves in this supply closet and you can’t afford to do that when everyone is still in the office next door. “osamu we need to get back.”

dazai seems to have regained some of his consciousness. “again.”

you let out a breathless laugh, eyes glimmering in genuine amusement and adoration. “not right now. later. we need to get back. i have a case i need to finish working on.”

dazai finally fully comes back to you and he lightens up at the promise of later. that means this isn’t just a one time thing. something in that back of his head always told him if he crossed that line with you, things wouldn’t be the same, he’d only have one shot. but your words are such a relief he could cry. he can’t help himself, he has to clarify.

“later? after work and… again anytime after that?” his eyes are pleading and hopeful and you can’t help but melt under his soft gaze.

you nod and open your mouth to affirm his statement but you're rudely interrupted by a loud rapping at the closet door. “you two better have not done any of that by my emergency snack stash and you better clean up after yourselves. hurry up, i can't keep stalling and kunikida needs staples.”

ranpo’s voice rings throughout the room. you groan in embarrassment and bury yourself into his chest. dazai lets out a gleeful laugh still dizzyingly drunk on the idea of your promise.

[pedge-page]

Preggo wife Joel is the type of person who would pull out in the middle of sex and go down on her just to hear wife moan louder, I just know he would be f r e a k y af

notes: Let me tell you…all fluff and cuteness and humor aside, this man fucks like a beast. How else do you think she got knocked up?? Here’s what the man was like just days after finding out you were expecting. 

Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife: Joel Miller - Husband, Father, Daddy

Warnings: unprotected sex, breeding kink, oral F receiving

18+ ONLY

- - - -

Joel’s got your waist pinned to the bed, rutting his cock into your soaked heat as your poor legs flail by his side. Harsh grunts leave his open mouth with each rut, his fingertips digging into your hips to imprint himself. You’ve cum three times now, not really having any other option but taking his thick length that has somehow made a very comfortable home inside your cunt, conformed to its hardened shape each time the tip punches your gummy walls.

“FUck baby look at ya, takin’ my cock s’deep,” he groans, pushing in all the way until his colliding with your cervix before grinding his pelvis flush against yours. "My pretty wife, all mineminemine."

“I can’t—Joel please,” you whine.

He starts thrusting again and you yelp, throwing your head back with silent cries of pleasure.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, yes you can—took a baby in this pussy didn’t you? Fuckin’ bred ya, shit gonna look so good like a Mommy ohmygod.” He grins, nearly cumming at the thought of your tummy swelling so quickly. He keeps thinking it’s already showing, the little pudge making its way evident for the world to see. “Cum for me one more time, please baby need to hear it.”

You shake your head, covering your mouth.

He growls, pulling out and slapping your cunt hard. spankspank against your abused clit as he tosses your thighs up, presenting your slit to him. He latches his widened jaw to cover the entire area of your exposed core, humming into your sweet little pussy. your sticky arousal flows into his mouth, and he sucks every bit that tries to escape him. Eats you out like it’ll be the last thing he does. 

“Let it out,” he growls, flicking his tongue against your clit with little sucks. “Louder, scream it baby," he swats your sensitive nub again, "fuckin’ louder, I said!” His fingers plunge into your hole, twisting and slicking them up, expertly wringing you of your loud moans he all but deserves.

“Ah—ah yeah oh fuckyeah!! Yesyesyesyesohmygod Joel— Daddy please I’M—!” You body freezes in a vicious position, rolling your pussy further into his mouth as he works your orgasm over you. 

“That’s my girl.” He spanks your cunt once with a satisfied smirk, your whole body jolting from the impact before he’s forcing his cock into your tightened walls. "I'm fuckin' my wife's pussy so fuckin' good, she can't even speak."

Your eyes roll back to you skull as he sets a brutal pace again.

“Daddy’s home’s right here,” he moans.

You grip his bicep with the little clutch of sanity you have left, an erotic, delirious smile plastered on your face. He obsessively strokes your belly with his thumb. There's no intent to stop fucking you. That one more cum was total bullshit but who fucking cares, when he's claiming you so good. Despite your hoarse throat, you continue to let out desperate whimpers of encouragement for him. His tongue caught between his teeth with little snarls and pants, staring down at the spot where you're joined, soaking everything between you two. 

You’re so cock drunk for him, it’s no wonder your body was so willing to accept his seed. He just has that effect. Maybe pregnancy won’t be so bad for you after all…

- - - -

Taglist

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop

[kennedysbaby]

“not bad.” — leon kennedy

wc: 2.0k

pairings: di! leon kennedy x fem! agent! reader

synopsis: in the midst of a casual training session, leon accidentally throws a miscalculated punch, resulting in him needing to make it up to you, his favorite rookie.

warnings: age gap (leon is thirty-eight, reader is twenty-three). kind of inappropriate work relationship. mentor/protege turned lovers-ish? mild sexual content. leon riding his motorcycle without a helmet because he thinks he's too hot to (real).

author's note: i'm tired of pretending death island leon isn't the hottest leon. twink death dilf birth fr. also not my best work, i kind of just threw this up and wrote it in the span of two hours. i’m not too proud of it honestly.

even after long and strenuous missions, leon didn't care if you were beyond exhausted; as long as you came back relatively unscathed, you were required to show up to work the next morning. which, whatever, that was fair. it would be a little nice to catch up on some well-deserved sleep, though. the worst part is, it wasn't only mission reports that you were expected to complete—it was training, too.

sure, you might've had a teensy bit of a crush on your mentor, but this never failed to piss you off, even if he looked so good.

in the dimly lit training room, the air was thick with the faint scent of sweat and determination as you and leon squared off. you stood before the older man, a fierce glint glazed over your eyes, while leon maintained a more relaxed stance, his more experienced gaze assessing your every move.

"let's see what you've still got in you after last week's shitshow." leon teased, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

you shot back, "bring it on, old man," a playful glimmer danced in your eyes as you readied yourself for the impending clash. 

"old man?" leon feigned offense, scoffing in disbelief. "i haven't even hit forty yet. you're just cruel." 

you clenched your fists with a shit-eating grin, lunging forward and throwing a flurry of messy punches that leon expertly dodged—which only wiped away your smirk in an instant. your movements were fluid, visually pleasing from afar. circling one another, you searched for an opening, reaching forward with a swift jab, that he deftly sidestepped, countering with a quick jab of his own that grazed your cheek.

you grimaced from the pain, to which he responded with, "nice try sweetheart, but you'll have to be quicker than that," leon taunted, his voice laced with clear amusement. "i taught you better than this, babe."

sweetheart. babe. blush spread across your cheeks, and not from the back-and-forth punches and kicks. leon was fifteen years your senior, but unfortunately, he was also unbelievably hot—you felt so guilty for even having feelings for him in the first place. 

leon was ruggishly handsome, with long-ish dark brown hair that framed his face, and broad shoulders that made him look like he gave good hugs. plus, he rode motorcycles—that he occasionally crashed—and owned this alluring charm to him that you just couldn't help but fall for. your "little" crush had gotten so inconsolable, you started laughing at his awful dad jokes.

nonetheless, you two had established a sweet relationship built on witty banter and pretentiously deep conversations. one reassuring shoulder pat and charming smile from him and all your pre-existing daddy issues withered away into nothing. 

"oh please, i can hear your joints cracking from here," you grinned, determination coursing through your veins as you launched back into a flurry of punches and kicks, each one dismally met with leon's skillful evasion or expertly timed blocks. 

banter flowed effortlessly between you two, subtly flirtatious comments sprinkled amongst them—a mixture of teasing jabs and genuine encouragement that only served to heighten the unspoken tension.

your fellow agents on leon's team were well-aware of the evident favoritism shown towards you. unbeknownst to them, you heard their little snide comments they'd whisper whenever you breathed near your mentor. he probably fucks her, they'd say, she probably blows him. it was disgusting, and quite frankly, sexist, but you did your best to ignore them.

though, sometimes you wished they were true.

as the minutes stretched on, the intensity of your little sparring session only seemed to grow, the air thick was anticipation as you pushed each other to the limit. but, in the heat of the moment, a lapse in leon's concentration led to very dirty move. 

with lightning-fast movement, he threw a hard punch that was meant to be deflected harmlessly, but instead, landed with a sickening thud against your side. you gasped, the impact knocking the wind from your lungs as you stumbled backward, pain etched across your pretty features. 

in an instant, leon's playful demeanor vanished, replaced by genuine concern as he rushed over to you, his rough hands hovering uncertainly over your trembling form.

"shit, sweetheart, i'm sorry," his smooth voice was thick with regret as his fingers tentatively slid your white tank top up. his cold blue eyes narrowed as the pad of his thumb gently brushed over the wound, frowning at the newly forming bruise tainting your skin like mold.

you winced at the contact, but you definitely weren't complaining. a reassuring smile graced your lips as your strained eyes met his worried gaze. "it's okay," you murmured, "it was an accident." 

leon's lips parted slightly, as if restraining himself, before chuckling softly, "let me make it up to you," his eyes flitted upwards, landing upon your own—it sent a pleasant shiver down your spine. he guided you towards the nearby bench, settling himself right next to you, his free hand strategically placed on your thigh. 

i've got to use this to my advantage, you thought to yourself, before replying, "okay…how about dinner tonight?" your voice was still a little stiff, clearly still reeling back from the uncalled for punch. "i think i deserve it after putting up with your weird no-breaks-after-missions rule." 

leon wasn't an idiot. of all the things you could've asked for…dinner? he knew you weren't a goody two shoes just for the sake of it. your longing glances weren't left unnoticed, the fiddling around with the hem of your skirt, your inability to hold eye contact for more than two seconds. it was glaringly obvious. he found it endearing, and he'd be lying to himself if he said he didn't have a soft spot for you.

you really were a pretty little thing. and leon was only human. 

"dinner?" he repeated, a smirk creeping onto his lips. "that's the best you could come up with?"

you nodded, smiling as if you hadn't just had your shit rocked. leon swallowed hard, knowing damn well he couldn't turn you down. not that he really had a choice at this point.

…

after what was seemingly an innocent dinner together, you both found yourselves engrossed in a long anticipated kiss, standing right by his motorcycle that he surprisingly hadn't crashed. it felt so right, so perfect, like fate had written this for them, despite all odds...

"i had fun tonight," you said, looking up into his icy blue eyes, standing a few inches away from each other. your dress fell mid-thigh, tight around all the right places. 

leon felt like a creep just staring at how pretty you were. he was having an awfully hard time reminding himself that you were his protege, his subordinate. this was insanely inappropriate. but if his intuition was correct, then you definitely wouldn't mind if he made a move. 

the air was laced with anticipation and unspoken desire as he looked back down at your pretty face, eyes lingering on your lipstick coated lips. leon brought his calloused hands up, and cupped your soft cheeks, his touch gentle yet electrifying.

"i'm glad you did, pretty girl," an amused look crossed over his features as he took notice of your cheeks that were burning up from his touch.

with a shared understanding, leon closed the distance between the two of you, his lips crashing against yours and meeting in a fervent kiss, igniting something strong within you. throughout the night, your inhibitions had slowly but surely disappeared, evolving into this. 

his lips were warm against yours, his kiss both tender and possessive as he deepened the embrace, his hands roaming freely over your body, grasping at whatever he could. luckily, the parking lot was for the most part vacant, so leon took advantage of that. he didn't know what he was drunk on, but the fact that this was inappropriate had completely slipped his mind—right now, he wasn't your mentor, and he wasn't fifteen years older than you. what could go wrong? besides, it wasn't like the dso would let go of one of its founders.

you sighed into the kiss, surrendering yourself completely to the intoxicating rush that coursed hotly through your blood. leon pulled you closer, his fingers now tangled in your hair as he slipped his tongue between your lips, eliciting a content groan from you. you pressed your body against his, backing up against the cool metal of his motorcycle. his lips meshed into yours with a hunger that bordered on desperation.

leon really had been holding back this entire time.

you responded in kind, fingers desperately grasping onto his back, holding on for support. the cool night winds had both of your hair blowing softly, simultaneously sending a chill down your spine. but the heat of the moment was enough to keep you warm. 

time seemed to stand still as you lost yourselves in each other, the outside world fading away until there was only you two, bound together by an unbreakable thread of desire and longing. as the kiss only escalated, your aching need for him was only reaching dizzying heights, knowing damn well that you'd never forget this moment. a testament to your intense desire for the man you knew you couldn't have.

when you finally pulled apart, both of your breaths were ragged and hearts were racing. you shared a knowing smile with him, the feeling sending a pleasant rush through you.

"i think it's safe to say i've made it up to you," leon whispered, his voice husky with lust as he pressed his forehead against yours. "don't you think?"

you chuckled softly, eyes sparkling with affection as you traced the line of his jaw with your fingertips. "i couldn't agree more," you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper.

his hand smoothed up your dress, feeling the area he'd accidentally punched earlier, a frown creasing onto his lips, "you holding up okay, by the way?" he asked concernedly, eyes flickering with worry once again.

"mhm, don't worry about it." you replied, grimacing a bit as he applied a bit of pressure on.

"good, good. you're a tough girl, i knew you'd take it like a champ." leon lightened the mood a bit, laughing lightly to ease his nerves.

"y'know, there's something else i'd take like a champ—" you had to cut yourself off, surprised that you'd let something like that roll off your tongue like it was nothing in front of someone who was technically your boss.

to your surprise, leon only shut his eyes, shaking his head in utter disbelief as he laughed a little harder. but he really wanted to test that theory. "you're really something, sweetheart." his chuckle alone sent shivers down your spine.

and with that, you rode off into the night, heading straight for his apartment. you wrapped your arms around his waist tightly, holding on for dear life as he sped off on the vacant highway. neither of you cared about the consequences of your actions, or how you'd be proving your teammates right. that would be a problem for tomorrow.

[colonelarr0w]

"My love, mine all mine"

JJK Characters as oddly specific romantic scenarios.

Contains -> Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, Toji Fushiguro, Choso Kamo, Ryomen Sukuna, Hiromi Higuruma, Ino Takuma, Yuuji Itadori, Megumi Fushiguro

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

SATORU GOJO as randomly giving flowers.  

The action is unpredictable, unexpected — very similar to the unpredictable tendencies of the Special Grade. Gojo is never a one-trick pony, never does he want you to grow bored or tired of him (not that you ever will, obviously). Money did not matter to him, not when it came down to you. If a bouquet of flowers cost an arm and a leg, Gojo would gladly take a saw and get to work.  

If he happens to see a bouquet of flowers that would just look gorgeous on your desk, he’s throwing various bills at the florist and beelining for where he knows you’ll be. Gojo loves you, which is absolutely not a secret to anyone around him, and him randomly going out of his way to buy you flowers only reminds you of that bursting love that he has for you … and only you. And maybe, just maybe, he'll leave a small handwritten note with a scrawled declaration of just how much you mean to him.  

SUGURU GETO as admiring the rain. 

How serene and tranquil it is to just admire nature’s tears with Geto. Neither of you have to say anything, not that you want to — lest you want the loving silence to be tainted with whispered words. You don’t mind the silence, and nor does he. It's comfortable, peaceful, and it allows you both to momentarily forget about the world that you lived in. Instead, you could bask in the warmth that Geto emanates, clinging to it like a moth would cling to a light that they found.  

Geto’s arm is loosely draped over your waist, your side molding into his own like two pieces of a puzzle. Your head tucked against his shoulder, ears perked to listen to the rain’s gentle pattering. Geto’s fingers trace mindless shapes into your skin, content to sit in your presence. You carry with you a softness that Geto knew could never be replicated, reminding him that the things that have been done to him and by him are things long left in the past. For now, he could be Suguru – and he would only ever be Suguru around you.  

KENTO NANAMI as tying untied shoelaces.  

Late night walks where your shoes just won’t seem to cooperate. For as tight as the knots initially felt, they only loosened with each step you took. Even his steps had noticeably slowed to be in sync with your own, being sure to not accidentally leave you behind. Always attentive to you, reminding you that he loves you with a gentle squeeze to your fingers. The eyes behind his eyeglasses soften as you return his squeezes, but their softness is replaced then by a flicker of concern as you stumble, nearly rolling your ankle against the pavement.  

And so he pauses your walk, releasing the gentle grip he has on your hand and touching his knee to the ground. Fingers loop through the undone laces, expertly knotting them before softened eyes flicker up to your own. Your cheeks flush at the sheer adoration that swims in his eyes, your gaze flickering away from his own as a mumbled thanks falls from your lips. But he does not miss the curl of your lips – wearing that sweet smile that Nanami wishes that he could forever commit to memory. Nanami imagines an alternate scenario from his position, one where he holds silver and slips it onto your finger. Eventually… 

TOJI FUSHIGURO as late night drives.  

With gentle music and the soft rumble of the engine, it’s no wonder that you feel so incredibly safe sitting in the passenger seat of Toji’s (Shiu’s) car. Your hand rests on the back of Toji’s, which lays against your thigh — squeezing every few seconds in a silent ‘I love you’. His declaration spoken in a language that only you understand, one crafted for you and one used only when you were around.  

Your drives aren't known to have a set destination, just filled with senseless turns that never have a true end thought out. Many of them are silent, the car only filled with the sounds of your pre-prepared playlist of songs that both you and Toji enjoyed, but there are times where the car is filled with soft conversation recounting past experiences or simply reciting the day’s events. But one thing is for certain, only you could make the great Toji Fushiguro soft. 

CHOSO as shared routines.  

Your presence in Choso’s life has brought about notable changes to the course of his day — namely his routine and how he decides to spend the mornings and nights. What was once simply waking up and immediately moving about has now become remaining tangled in the sheets for five (sometimes ten) extra minutes. What was once a simple brushing of the teeth has now become a multi-step skincare routine and lengthy shower. 

His day just wouldn’t be the same without your shoulder brushing against his own as you both cleaned your teeth. It wouldn’t be the same without you brushing through his hair and styling it for him with the gentlest of hands. His nights wouldn’t be the same without your body against his in the bath, sponge rubbing away the day’s tension. And it certainly wouldn’t be the same without you wrapped in his arms, gentle snores fanning against his neck as you doze off — wrapped in the comfort of his embrace.  

RYOMEN SUKUNA as shared glances.  

They say that the eyes are the true window into the soul, detailing the true feelings of what resides within and bringing it forth in a discreet, almost unknown, manner. Fleeting glances can speak the same amount as a full-length conversation. Softened irises can shine with love and narrowed pupils can convey rage equivalent to that of a freshly sharpened dagger. Sukuna’s eyes were no exception to the rule — the love he held for you couldn’t be hidden behind pointed glares, not when they softened immediately upon finding you.  

The moment your eyes met his own, soft and gentle, something in him promptly melts. How funny that the King of Curses would find himself staring at you — a simple sorcerer — with crinkled eyes. Was he smiling? No, no he’d never admit to ever smiling, but the sight of you just brings one to his face so naturally. Your head turns so that your gaze meets his own, silently reading each other’s eyes before you smile at him. And though he wants so badly to scoff and turn the other way, for you … he returns it.  

HIROMI HIGURUMA as being picked up from work.  

It was no secret that there were creeps lining the streets of the city, prowling around underneath the cloak that night provided and waiting for the best opportunity to strike. Wandering around at night, while not inherently dangerous, did not sit well in the stomach of Hiromi. He knew that you were able to handle yourself well, you were no stranger to defending yourself in situations where you needed to – but he still could not quell the pit of worry that bubbled in the pit of his chest whenever you were kept late at your office.  

And so, to keep a sound mind, Hiromi would wait outside the double doors of your office building, smiling against your hair as your body molds into his own. His nose nestles itself into your hair, inhaling the familiarity of your scent – a soft mixture of lavender and rose. The hug lasts for as long as you need it to, broken only when you decide to take a step back. The passenger side door to Hiromi's car is then opened for you, your hand is held as you step inside, and a kiss is pressed to your cheek all before the door shuts.  

INO TAKUMA as sharing food.  

Relationships are meant to be 50/50, an even split that ensures that one party does not contribute more or less to the relationship than the other. To say that Ino believes in balance in his relationship with you would be the understatement of the century – he never wants you to feel as if you're doing too much or that he's doing too little for you. Ino also believes very heavily in sharing everything with you; personal stories, clothes, drinks, and of course, food.  

Never will he order the same thing as you, knowing that at one point or another, you'd try whatever snack or meal he had ordered for himself. Your eyes would flicker to his plate or to the ice cream in his hand, then to his eyes, silently asking permission. With a smile akin to that of a lovesick teenager, Ino extends whatever it is that he's eating to you, feeling his heart warm at the sound of your satisfied hum. You kiss his cheek in thanks before offering him whatever it was that you had ordered. Rinse and repeat, and suddenly you're both sharing two meals as opposed to enjoying one for yourself – and neither of you would change it for the world.  

YUUJI ITADORI as stargazing.  

Something about the silence that night provides paired with the gentle light that the stars in the night sky had always been so calming for you, always carrying with it a sense of serenity that could only be replicated by something as soft as a mother's love or a hug. And like a moth drawn to a light, you found yourself admiring those very stars every single night – now you had someone to share that peace with, someone to bask in the warm light that the stars provided.  

Laid out over a blanket, two pairs of eyes watch the twinkling stars with a fascination only replicated by that of a child. For a moment the world is silent, filled only with the sounds of your breathing and Yuuji's. His hand is intwined with yours, thumb rubbing back and forth against the backs of your knuckles. Your cheek is against his shoulder, both your eyes and his shut in complete serenity. Those are the nights where you can just be children, as in reality, it is what you both are.  

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO as interlocking pinkies.  

Not everyone is affectionate, not everyone is able to easily convey their love through prolonged physical touches such as a hug or a passionate kiss. Certain love languages come easily to some people, but to others it may be a touch more difficult. Some convey it through words, others convey it through actions that are a little more hidden, secretive. Megumi, for as quiet as he is, falls into the secretive category when it comes to displaying his love for you.  

He loves you, hell, he would devote himself to you entirely if given the chance, he just finds it a touch difficult to display that love for you through means of physical touch. That does not mean he won't hug you or indulge in your kisses, it just means that he may not be the one to initiate those actions. But there is an exception to this little rule, and that is the fact that Megumi will always link his pinkie with your own when walking on your side. The smile that worms its way onto his face the moment that his skin touches yours is missed by everyone, but never ever will it be missed by you – and to him, you are all that matters anyway.  

[atarathegreat]

No Nut November Tokyo Revengers

Ft: Manjiro Sano, Ken Ryuguji, Keisuke Baji, Takashi Mitsuya, Kazutora Hanemiya, Haruki Hayashida

Mikey is the only one that wins. It was stupid but you were having fun teasing Mikey. It was too easy when he refused to give in and just bury his cock as deep as he can. Walking around the house naked, showering with him, sleeping in nothing but your little underwear. Even if he was taking part in the silly little challenge (because he can't stand to let anyone beat him at anything, least of all Baji), you weren't. It was torturous to hear your sweet little sounds with his hand knuckle deep in your heat. His eyes were on the clock, his ears trained to hear only you. The absolute second that the clock hit 12:00am, he pulled his hand free and kissed your thigh. "Mikey!" You whined, having been so, so close to that edge you wanted. "It's December, babydoll." He crawled up, expertly slipping from his shorts and kicking them off the bed, "Tell me I can. Say it. Say the words." A little head nod and whine was the least he would accept, but he would accept it. In seconds Mikey was bottomed out, a whimper getting clipped as he bit his lips together. "Never again. I'm never going without this again." Mikey planted his hands on either side of your head, "Wrap around me, babydoll, I'm going as deep as your pretty pussy will let me."

He's failed. Day three and he knows he failed because Draken can't help but fill you with his seed. Fucking you with anything but his dick, for him, is an insult to you. But the second he's balls deep, he knows he won't be able to stop before he cums. Seeing you fucked out, dripping with the mess he can leave as deep as he wants, that was his reward for the fun. "Kenny! Kenny, your-" "Fuck it." Draken hissed as he dug his fingers into your hips, "Keep fuckin' bouncin', precious. Make a fuckin' mess."

Baji has to admit it to Mikey. He couldn't make it the whole month. Halfway through you were feeling empty, and Baji refused to budge. Until you got shirtless and sat in his lap with that sweet pout. "Don't do that, baby, you know I hate when you're upset." Baji mumbled, pushing your hair out of your eyes. "Then stop telling me no over some dumb game!" The sound of you whining at him was one he only liked when you were begging him to stop using you. "Don't whine." He pulled your hair back, nipping at your neck, "You know what it does." More whining, more pouting, more tantrums. Again and again and again. Until he was pressing more of those special little sounds out of your mouth as you tried to be quiet. "Oh, now we wanna hush?" Baji gripped your chin, "Let the upstairs neighbors hear ya', baby."

Unlike his friends, Mitsuya isn't too invested in the whole charade. If you two don't have sex, so be it. If you do, amazing. Either way, he'll be happy. But when you came into his home office and sat down angrily on the little couch, he couldn't help but inquire. "This whole stupid month and your stupid friends!" You huffed. Mitsuya can't help but laugh at the pissy way you spoke. You knew you could have him whenever you wanted, within reason, of course. "C'mere, darling." Mitsuya tucked the fabric on his table into the drawer, patting the desktop with a hefty hand, "Sit." He loves the way you do what he says so quickly. It takes one hand, one move, to pull his belt from its place around his waist, "Hands out, darling. Girls who throw fits don't get to touch."

Kazutora didn't even make it a few hours. The morning sun woke up and he couldn't ignore the pain in his groin. He rolled over and reached down to pull your waist closer to him and tuck your panties to the side. "Pretty girl, pretty girl." He groaned as he fit his cock between your legs and easily rocked into you, "Fuck yes, my pretty girl. Speak to me." He'd already failed, so why not spend the day with you in bed?

Haruki "There was a challenge?" Hayashida. He doesn't give a fuck. Doesn't even attempt to keep his cock in his pants. Caveman brain to the max, I'm talking: Food, water, fight, fuck. Nothing else. Pah has you on the couch, in the recliner, over the counter, anywhere that he can get you naked. The way you touch his scars as he fucks you through another orgasm, teary eyes and kisses as you hold him, "So handsome, Pah. So, so handsome." The way this man would kill for your compliments is FOUL. But he'll settle for bullying his cock deeper in your stomach.

[agirlcandream84]

Neighbor!Frank is a MAJOR Daddy When When You Come Home Drunk (part 2)

This is the much-requested second part of this and when I tell you that this is literally my favorite thing that I've written, I ain't kiddin'. Like this is pure protector, daddy, comfort, HOT, sdjfnsdkjnfdsklj.

Neighbor!Frank x {drunk}Reader

Word Count: 1320 (6 min read)

----------------------------

Uh oh, you were definitely gonna throw up.

"Use the bucket sweetheart," Frank shouts from the kitchen where he's preparing you a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

Had you said that out loud?

"Yes," responds back, setting the peanut butter and jelly in front of you and handing you the bucket he had placed there after plopping you on his couch five minutes ago.

And so you do, throwing up in a bucket in Frank's living room, him expertly gathering back your hair and ready with a napkin to clean your face.

"Sorry," you mumble, tears in your eyes (throwing up always made you cry for some reason). Frank dabs gently at your chin while his eyes find yours, those tiny crinkles forming in the corner when he smiles just a bit.

"Eh it's alright doll, seen a lot worse," he responds, standing to flush the contents of the bucket down the toilet.

He walks back into the living room and reaches to gently lift and guide you by the shoulders, eventually looping an arm around your waist. He starts walking you down his hall when you ask "where we goin'? I liked the couch."

"I bet you did but you got some on your pretty dress there so we gotta get ya' cleaned up sweetheart," he replies, guiding you to his bedroom where he seats you on his bed and rummages through his dresser to fish out a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt.

He places them on the bed beside you and lands his hands on his hips, assessing your inebriation with squinted eyes before asking "You alright to get yourself changed honey?"

Your eyes are heavy-lidded and now The Tiredness™️ has set in but you give Frank a slow nod and a thumbs up. He waits a beat to ensure you are, in fact, capable and you use the moment to slump sideways on Frank's warm bed and close your eyes with a smile.

"Sweetheart," he gently nudges.

"Ssshhhhhhh," you tell him, your finger landing on your pursed lips like a librarian.

"Ok, come on honey, up up. Can't sleep in that dress," he says while his hands scoop into the pit of your arms and he sits you upright. Your head lolls forward while you let out a indecipherable whine.

"Need you to look at me doll" he says, his hands on either side of your face while he squats low in front of the bed so he's eye-level with you. You will your eyes to open and concentrate on Frank's molten brown ones with every ounce of concentration you have. You take a moment to boop Frank's broad nose while he's inches in front of your face.

Stifling a laugh he explains, "I'm gonna help, alright, but ya' gotta listen." You again give him an understanding nod as you feel him put his hands on your hips and gently tug you to a standing position. "Alright, arms up honey," he instructs you. You comply and feel Frank gently grab the fabric of your dress skimming your thighs to shimmy it up your body, past your shoulders, and slowly over your head. His fingers are respectful but the tips tickle the underside of your arms and you jolt your arm down at the sensation.

"Eh eh, arms up," he reminds you again before finishing the task. Even intoxicated you can sense Frank's respectful restraint, his eyes never landing long on any one spot of your body and instead almost always on your face, a small smile at his lips. Standing before him in your bra and underwear, Frank reaches past you for the pants folded on the bed.

"Hands on my shoulders sweetheart," he murmurs a little quieter this time, squatting low in front of you, arms outstretched with the pants. And again you comply, your hands landing on the broad, warm expanse of his shoulders, feeling the shift of his taut muscles beneath your palms as you steady yourself. He holds the pants out just in front of you and you know to step in, the way a five year might when getting dressed with a parent. He tugs the pants up your body, his hands running the length of your silhouette before the pants land on the curve of your hips. He tugs the drawstrings to tie a quick knot, his deft fingers tickling the skin of your stomach before he lets his hands land briefly on your hips.

"Doin' ok?" he rumbles, and suddenly the air in the room is warm and all you hear is your own breathing. You nod in confirmation, afraid if you speak the moment will evaporate into a poof of air.

He takes the T-shirt from the bed and his hands find the hole for the head as he tugs it over your head, his hands guiding each arm into the holes of the shirt. The rest of the shirt pools over your body, landing nearly at mid-thigh. His hands find your face again, gently brushing the hair out of your eyes.

"All better sweetheart?" he asks with his brows furrowed, like the clothes were a balm to a wound and he was a paramedic. Again you nod, your eyes locked to his in a way that felt critical to keep breathing.

"M'gonna get you a glass of water ok? Want you to drink some before bed," he says, his eyes boring into yours over his low brows, awaiting a confirmation from you. You offer a meek "ok," before he walks out of the room and you still find it spinning in front of you.

While Frank putters in the kitchen you fumble to reach the clasp of your bra, desperate for the unmatched comfort of removing it before you plan to faceplant in Frank's bed. You find the clasp impossible to navigate in your current state, your fingers uncooperative as sleep claimed to take you entirely.

Frank returns and places the water on the small bedside table before turning to you, confusion crossing his face at your hunched position, arms wound behind your back. "you alright honey?" he says gently, rounding his way to you.

"Um.. can you... sorry," you mumble, sleep so fucking close, so desperate to just get in the fucking bed. "Nevermind," you mumble, exasperated and ready to melt into the bed, bra or not.

"Uh, yeah, c'mere honey," he offers, sheepishness barely detectible in his tone as he steps behind you. His fingers are barely a whisper on your back as his hands slip up into the T-shirt and deftly unclasp your bra. He tugs the item gently down the length of your arms, his wrist just grazing the side of your breast as you let out a small huff of air from your lungs. With the bra off, he gently tugs the T-shirt back down your from and runs a smooth hand down your back. "That better?" he asks, his voice barely audible, like rocks tumbling, as he turns you to find your eyes again.

You nod and offer a "thank you," more air than sound. He waits a beat, looking you over once to make sure he didn't overstep and when he knows you're ok he says, "Alright, let's get you in bed."

You dutifully climb into the bed and collapse onto the pillow, inhaling deeply and smelling laundry detergent and "Frank." You let out a small mmmmm before your eyes close of their own accord. Frank flips off the lights and rustles on the ground below, arranging a makeshift bed on the ground beside you, staying close by in case you were sick in the night.

You muster just enough remaining energy to open one eye, your face smashed into his pillow, and mumble "not the floor, please Frankie." Your eyes close and the last thing you hear is "I'm here sweetheart," as the bed dips beside you and sleep takes you completely.

[cultrise]

nsfw ahead !

thinking about unexpectedly edging hobie <3

hobie who did so well on his concert that night you wanted to congratulate him and show him how good he was on stage. so the minute you get home, the second the door is locked, you’re jumping him.

and he’s surprised at first, not anticipating the shift in energy. but as he feels you jump up, legs wrapped around his waist he just chuckles, big palms supporting your ass as he carries you to the bedroom. your tongues are moving in sync and your breaths are becoming more rapid as your back touches the mattress.

hobie doesn’t waste any time, his left hand reaching down to swiftly unbutton your jeans and slide them off your legs, throwing them on the other side of the room “didn’ know y’needed me s’much” he says between kisses, making you pull away and look at him.

“need to give you a reward for that performance. that isn’t beers and pizza” you grin at the mention of his bandmates’ little after party. hobie smiles, body relaxing as you push him off of you and straddle him instead, making him rest his body weight on his elbows.

your hand slides his shirt up, revealing his beautiful and lean body, nipple piercings glistening in the light as he stares up at you, lips parted and eyes glistening with need. you could already feel him against your thigh, cock throbbing and begging to be released. his shirt joins your jeans, starting to form a pile of clothes on the wooden floor.

your eyes dart over his frame, stopping at the band of his boxers, happy trail peeking out slightly and seemingly inviting you to place kisses along it “you gonna keep starin’? cock’s not gonna suck i’self” hobie smirks as you roll your eyes, an amused grin on your face “i’m aware, but i always have a hard time getting your belts off” you pout as you place a wanting kiss to his plump lips.

“i can help with that” he whispers against your mouth, eyes briefly scanning yours as he quickly takes the belts off and throws them fuck knows where. your hands fiddle with his fly as you bite down on your lip, cunt pulsating against the wet fabric of your panties “atta girl” hobie murmurs as his eyes trickle from your face to your cleavage. he was fighting such a nasty urge to not rip your shirt apart then and there — after all, the shirt you were wearing was still his.

and next thing he knows, you’re in front of the bed and on your knees, pulling his pants down as his dick springs out from his boxers, tip leaking with precum. you watch him like a hawk, studying it like you hadn’t sucked him off countless times before, like you didn’t know everything about his body. you mouth begins to water.

your fingers wrap at the base of his dick, eyes locked on it as hobie draws a sharp breath. he had been so busy with preparing for that concert that he hadn’t even realised how much he missed you. his fingers play with the material of the sheets under him, gripping them slightly “you want me that bad, hobie?” you ask, a mischievous smile plastered on your face as you watch his hands.

his face contorts into a scowl as you look up at him, batting your eyelashes. you knew damn fucking well what effect you had on him “when you look at me like tha’? ‘d be stupid not to, babe” he admits as you chuckle, lowering your head and pressing a wet and audible smooch to his fat tip. the action immediately sends hobie into a fit, hissing in response. god, can you cut the bullshit and just suck him off already??

and thank god for the weird couple telepathy you two shared because you immediately wrap your pretty lips around his cock, sucking on the top with a loud smack before licking him up and down. hobie’s breath hitches, mind starting to go blank as he looks at the ceiling. you were killing him. your hand starts to synchronise with your mouth as you expertly use them for his pleasure, making hobie start repeating broken curse words.

and since you knew his body so well that also meant you knew just what sounds he made and what his bodily reaction was when he was close. so when he was, you pulled away. hobie looks at you confused, eyebrows furrowed as sweat starts to gather on his forehead “why’d y’stop?” you smile innocently, placing your chin on his thigh as your finger glides on his length “just wanted to make sure you were enjoying yourself”

he smiles, gesturing you to raise yourself up to his level before kissing you, tongue swirling into your mouth and collecting the taste “you know i am” he reassures, making you smile. he had no idea what he had coming. you go back to your original position, hand starting to rub him as you turned your attention to his skin. it just looked so.. empty? good to know you were able to change that.

hobie’s words get caught into his throat as you start biting into the skin of his thighs, tracing kisses right on the points you knew turned him on the most and leaving lipstick stains behind. precum dripped on your fingers as you sloppily moved your hand on his length, making him ball his fists “shit, doll… right ‘ere” he groans as you lick his base. he throws his head back, adam’s apple bobbing as he gasps for air.

you slow your hand down, leveling his neck as you start marking him up, hisses and little whines escaping his lips “fuck.. what are you doin’?” hobie looks at you with half lidded eyes as you smiles against him “just pleasing my man” he lets out a desperate chuckle “yeah? seems like you’re doin’ the opposite. you tryina’ edge me?”

you innocently look up at him, thumb grazing his sensitive slit “maybe” you smile as you watch your boyfriend’s face. his eyelids drop, his mouth comes agape and he breathes out a moan, lips quivering “fuck me…” hobie manages to say as you giggle, dropping down on your knees again.

you repeat the same procedure a few times over. slowing your hand down, raising your head to talk to him, kissing his swollen lips as your thumb rubs circles on his throbbing tip & leaking slit, making him shiver… hobie couldn’t take it anymore.

he was moaning, whining, begging for you to let him cum. you pouted as you rested your mouth above his dick “already? you make me go through so many orgasms, telling me i can take it while you sit here and whine?” hobie shakes his head, beads of sweat running down the sides of his beautiful face “thas’ different… please, doll.. need you so much..”

you drag a finger over his sweaty temple, smoothing out his edges “fine” you finally say as you put him in your mouth again. your fist is pumping him, your mouth is embracing his aching cock as your tongue stops to his tip to lick it from side to side. he’s so gone at this point he’s just rambling something so unintelligible he can’t even understand it.

all hobie knows is that he’s seeing stars and that he’s so thankful for the way his eyes are pushing to the back of his skull because he knew damn well that if he looked at you he was immediately cumming. however, considering that you had him edged and whining to orgasm for the last 20 minutes, it was going to happen nontheless.

and this time, he couldn’t even verbally announce it as he suddenly came loads into your mouth. his body shook all over, groans erupting form in-between his lips as you hummed, tasting him. you licked your fingers clean as cum dripped on the side of his dick, some even getting on his lower abdomen. he listened to the sinful pops! your mouth made as you sucked on your digits, waiting for him to say something.

but it wasn’t enough.. hobie was still hard as a rock and so needy he could very well explode. he raised his torso up, looking down at you as you smiled at him. you enjoyed the way his face looked in that moment way too much: eyes coated with desire, eyelids half closed, forehead glistening with sweat and lips plump and swollen.

“ ‘s not enough” he chokes out, staring at you like he’s drunk “oh? didn’t i do a good job?” you lean your head to the side as he closes his eyes. he can’t even think. his brain is too fuzzy “no.. you did.. i just…” and you can’t help but notice how his hand reaches for his cock and starts moving in lazy strokes. you smile, resting your hand to his knee and looking up at him “need any help, handsome?”

he grins at your teasing “just sit ‘ere ‘n look pretty.. fuck, ‘m gonna bust” hobie says as his hand picks up its pace. and in no time he’s rutting his hips up, fucking his own hand as he looks down at you. and oh god, he looks so fucking beautiful from that angle. looks so godly as he rubs himself over your face, chasing his release. looks so fucking perfect as he imagines himself staining your lips with his cum…

you start rubbing your thighs together in anticipation. you knew hobie was absolutely obsessed with you, but not like this. it was turning you on so badly it felt like you were the one being edged now “shit, luv… lookin’ s’pretty f’me” hobie moans as he slurs his words, his cockney accent getting thicker with each word. he was so close. so close.

“gonna cum.. shitshitshit” he groans as he rubs himself even faster, dragging a calloused finger across his tip and sighing in pleasure “cum for me, hobie..” you whisper as your eyes stay glued to his face, analysing his expression. and soon he’s shooting out blanks of thick white cum, covering your tongue with his juices.

he drops on the bed, panting heavily as his chest falls and rises rhythmically. you raise yourself up once more, straddling his marked thighs as you lean onto his chest, shirt-covered tits pressing against him “that good?” you smile as you wipe his sweat away again. you earn a sleepy smile in response, his eyes opening up a little so he can look at you “amazing. c’mere” and he’s dragging you into a thankful kiss, fingers playing with your hair as you dig your nails into the nape of his neck.

but the moment you decide to praise him for how well he behaved — a rare sight, really — you feel his ringed index pull your panties down “you don’t need to” you say after pulling away from the kiss. he played guitar on a hot stage for 2 hours straight and then got edged by you so hard he came twice in the span of 10 minutes. he needed to rest “i know. i want to” he says as he moves you closer by your hips, making sure to drag your cunt across his thigh. you moan into his mouth as he pulls away again, placing a small kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“well… who am i to resist your pleading?” you smile as hobie rolls his eyes, twisting and shoving you under him “shut up” he retorts. you both laugh as his hands make their way between your plushy thighs. he wanted to show you just how thankful he was for your services <3

© cultrise | don’t steal, copy or translate my works.

[moonstruckme]

Hi!! Could you do a Bodyguard!James Potter x reader where he is guarding her during a high profile event and something happens? With a bit of angst to fluff? If you’re comfortable of course! I hope you have a wonderful day, i’m new to your page and ADORED your bodyguard james. <3

Thanks for requesting lovely <3

cw: guns, shooting

bodyguard!James x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

You shift your stance a bit and have to bite down on a whimper. 

“I’m going to have to throw these shoes out after this,” you mutter to James. “I’m pretty sure there’s blood pooling around my toes.” 

“You wanna take them off?” he murmurs back, lips barely moving as he keeps his face in a mask of businesslike impassivity. 

You sigh. “I wish.” 

“You could. Just step out of them, no one’s looking over here.” 

It’s true. Every camera in the chamber is pointed to where your mom stands on the podium, her right hand raised as she takes her oath. As much as you hate coming to these things, you can’t ignore the kernel of pride shining behind your sternum. She’s waited so long for this day, dealt with so much opposition, and now she’s finally going to be able to enact some real change. You can keep up appearances for her. 

“I’d better not risk it,” you tell James. “With my luck, the second I do—” 

You’re on the ground before you even register the sound of glass shattering. James’ grip on your shoulder is harsh, almost painful, but the noise that follows has enough adrenaline spiking your bloodstream to forget about that. The loud, rapid popping of gunfire fills the chamber. 

James’ hand moves to clasp around your elbow, but you tear away from him, headed in the opposite direction. The podium is empty. Where’s your mom? Did they get her already? Is she hurt? Did she—

You’re not fast enough to outpace James, definitely not limping around in your heels, and he gets an arm around your waist, hauling you away from the center aisle. You can’t tell where the gunfire is coming from—who has the guns?—but he pushes your head down before you can look. A low buzzing burrows into your ears. You try again to go to where you last saw your mom, but James yanks you back to his side, a cutting “Stop” hissing past his lips. Any other time, a tone like that would have you stilling like a frightened bunny, but you know he’s not the danger here. 

When you don’t listen, he lifts you off the ground. The crowd is swarming, frantic and disorganized, but James maneuvers through it expertly, running down the hall until he finds an unlocked door. The bathroom door swings open for you, and James sets you down quickly, locking it before you have a second to recover. 

You lunge for the door anyway, only for twin bands to wrap around your middle. They pin your arms to your sides and press you securely to James’ front. 

“Stop. Stop it.” His tone is as hard as his grip, dispassionate to your struggling. “You cannot fight me when you’re in danger, understand?” 

“They’re not here for me,” you plead. Your voice is scratchy with desperation. 

“No, but I am. I’m here for you.” His hold tightens, but now it’s less a restraint than a comfort. You can feel his heavy breaths tickling past your ear. “Your mom has her own detail, okay? She made it out before we did, they probably have her somewhere safe.” 

Now you can hear your breathing too. Short, stilted pants that wheeze in and out of you. You think you might be shaking. 

“That’s enough,” James says gently, starting to lower you both to the ground. Your knees give easily, relinquishing your weight to his hold until he settles you both on the tiled floor. “That’s enough, alright? Can I let you go now?” 

You’re not sure you want him to anymore, but you nod. He slips out from behind you, checking the lock on the bathroom door and then removing his gun from the holster at his hip. The sight of it makes your trembling worsen. He checks something with it while murmuring to the people on the other end of his earpiece, convoluted jargon you’ve long since ceased paying attention to. 

“She’s fine,” he says after a minute. “Your mom. They got her into an office, and now we’re all just waiting for security to clear the building before we can go.” 

You drop your head to your knees, relief like a tidal wave washing over you. You hear James’ footsteps move back toward you before his big hand lands on your head. It smooths down your hair as he squats next to you. When you glance at his gun balanced on his knee, he catches the look. 

“I have to keep this out for now,” he says, looking you in your eyes like he’s making a promise, “but the safety’s staying on unless someone tries to come in here. Okay?” 

“Yeah.” You nod, still trying to get your breathing under control. 

James strokes your head again, his touch weighty and reassuring. The noise outside of the bathroom seems to be lessening, but you’re not sure how much sound is blocked by the door. There could be shooting still happening just past it, people hurt or dying in the halls. 

“I’m sorry for fighting you so hard,” you say quietly. 

James blows out a breath. “I get it,” he admits. “In those situations, it’s natural to freak out and head toward the person you want to keep safe.” He flashes you a little smile. “I’m lucky it’s already my job to do that.” You grimace back, but his expression grows serious again when he says, “You just have to keep your head, though, you know? The whole reason you and your mom have protection is to make sure someone else is already looking out for you. You don’t need to worry about her, you just need to trust me.” 

You look at him. His body is still taut, ready for a fight if one comes to him, but his expression is gentle. It’s easy to forget it’s his job to take care of you when he seems to do it so naturally. Caring emanates from James like it’s the core component of his soul. 

“I do trust you,” you tell him. 

His mouth slants, expression unbearably fond. “I know, sweetheart. We’ll work on those instincts, okay? I get that it’s not an easy adjustment to make.” 

“Have you ever had to do that? Run away from the person you cared about the most?” 

He shakes his head. “Like I said, I’m lucky. I always get to run towards you.”