#he will have you melt immediately to his precise firm touches!

[mrsoharaa]

˗ˏˋ ❥︎ Noo I can't stop thinking about the way Miguel would just nestle oh so comfortably at the foot of your couch, holds your right leg over his wide lap and gives you a soothing, perfect foot/leg rub/massage while you read your book (or try to at least- this man knows how to give really great foot/leg rubs/massages in general! so it makes it hard for your to fully concentrate on your book!). 🕷 ♡ ଓ ˎˊ˗

[eminemily05]

Well, I did it. I finally cracked and wrote for Ratchet. And an inspired fic, no less

I wanted to give one of my pieces (Kissy Times ) a way that was more open to any readers/viewers. While also having fun building around the moment itself.

I hope I was able to capture the grumpy guy's personality well enough, and I do hope you all enjoy. And it gets a bit more suggestive towards the end, just a warning

This work is 2.2k words and roughly proofread...I may have issues.

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It’s a damn good thing the kids aren’t at base to witness this.

That’s the only thought on your mind as a metal servo slips under your shirt. The touch is gentle, hesitant even. Yet, its owner seems anything but at the moment. As mesh lips slot against yours, the faint rumble of an engine reverberates off the metal surfaces of the Autobot base. Steam slips through the seams of alloy plating, nearly unnoticeable biolights flickering beneath armor plates.

Of course, the feeling isn’t nearly as incredible as the fact of just whose servo is wandering your heated skin. 

Ratchet, mass displaced, yet still towering, had cornered you off to a section of the medbay. His back turned towards the main room so he could keep you from any prying optics that did manage to sneak in. Not that he was even focused on sensing whether any of the team witnessed this moment. All his attention diverted to the melting putty of human against his frame. To which he quickly responded with a supporting servo along the nape of your neck. Taking care to not pinch any skin between the seams of his digits as he cupped it with practiced precision.

Your hands found purchase along the seams of his warm plating. One settling on his shoulder pauldron. The other, gently cupping his audial–which wiggled happily–and pulling him closer into the embrace. Soft puffs of steam warming your fingers from beneath his frame. 

Internally, his scanner was pinging off repeatedly with warning signals for your current state. Easily, it picked up the shift of your breath, the uptick of your bodily temperature, and the steady increase of your heart rate as he practically stole the air from your lungs. His frame pressed flush to your trembling form and heated form. Yet, the feeling from your miniscule and weak EM field told him it was nothing to worry about.

Well, aside from the obvious–and very much annoying–human limits compared to his own alien species. Curse the universe for doing this to you.

Setting a shaking hand against his chassis, you gave a firm–yet gentle–push. It took him a moment to pick up on your silent plea, and he pulled back with a hiss of his pistons. Engine rattling unhappily at the separation. But, your comfort always came first.

Immediately, he was checking you over. A worried click of his vocalizer settling between you. “I…wasn’t too much, was I..?” His bright blue optics dimmed slightly and his finials perked. His sensors hadn’t picked up any physical discomfort, but mentality was always a fickle thing. 

Maybe he read your field wrong? He contemplated, It’s not like it’s his fault it was so fragging hard to pick up on.

Struggling to even get your brain to boot back up, you didn’t even notice the fact that the bot in front of you was having a mini crisis. Scared that scrap, he broke the human. How was he supposed to explain this to the team?

You were absolutely starstruck, your brain sailing high in the clouds on the wings of pure euphoria. When was the last time you had even felt something that good? That kiss had been so far out of this world–pun intended–that your mind was having a bit of a hard time coming back out of the stars. I’m sorry, but too much? You thought silently as his words finally floated into the mush of your hazy thoughts. This man cannot be serious. 

A repeated firm pat against your cheek brought you back. Crash landing your shuttle of daydreams right back down to the hard, serious surface of reality. You blinked a couple times before finally looking up at him. Him and his–very clearly–annoyed expression.

“It would be helpful if you could actually answer me, I do hope you know,” His finals twitched in slight, harmless, agitation. He wasn’t actually mad, just worried. Maybe he wasn’t always able to show it in the best way, but you had known him long enough to learn his tells.

Malleable metal creased slightly under his optical ridges in silent concern. Dimmed optics diligently scanned over your body for any sign of discomfort. Servos drifting over your skin for anything out of place. He cared through actions best, not words.

You couldn’t help the teasing tone that left your mouth, a smirk playing on your lips. “Well, then maybe you shouldn’t take my breath away so easily,” You gave the antenna of his back kibble a slight flick, drawing a stutter from his engine, before wrapping your arms up and around his helm. Messing him was child’s play.

Panic flickered across his features for just a moment. Plating hissing as it rose in stress, his digits gripping as his optics zeroed in on your chest. While generally perverted, you could tell he was checking whether your lungs had actually collapsed.

You didn’t have the heart to tell him that you probably wouldn’t be talking if they had.

“Take your breath away?!” His tone turned frantic, engine roaring loud and causing his frame to vibrate against you, “I didn’t mean to deprive you of air, oh I am a fo–” 

Fortunately, his concerned ranting was cut short when he saw the amused look on your features. Suddenly, his plating drooped with a click and hiss of steam as he gave you a clearly un-amused glare in return. 

“You were using one of your incredibly annoying Earth idioms, weren’t you. Need I remind you to not use those sort of phrases with a Doctor. I would feel this is obvious.”

Playfully rolling your eyes, you dragged a finger along one of his seams. Watching his finals perk slightly at the touch. He seemed to relax…albeit slightly. But hey! Slightly with Ratchet, in any capacity, was a celebration of its own!

“Loosen up Doc–” His wheels spun with displeasure at the nickname, finials flicking down, “You really need to stop thinking so much about it. Oh, and learn a bit more about human culture and phrases. They get so much worse from there.” Ratchet hearing the phrase ‘shit fire and save matches’ would probably send him into a spark-attack and a tirade you didn’t even want to imagine explaining to him…

…Although, the idea did seem quite amusing.

“And fill my processor with useless, and primitive, information? Puh-lease. I’d rather build a space bridge from scrap, than even attempt to understand you humans.” He grumbles, looking at you over. Clearly, still apprehensive about your physical wellbeing 

“You still never answered my question, you know.”

He really was worried about you, wasn’t he? The old softie…

Sighing, you gently rubbed along one of his finials. His helm shifted to follow the touch as you answered, “Ratchet, that was probably the best damn kiss I’ve ever had. Too good, in fact.” You hummed, smirking at him. Mirth sparkled in your eyes. “Have any more experiences you’d like to ‘share’ with me?”

The question was supposed to be playful, a simple teasing jab at his age and probably lack of experience. 

….Apparently, that was not the case.

“Not that you could handle.” He scoffed, the corners of his dermas twitching in a hidden smirk. Plates shifted as steam rolled through them. Your eyes widened like saucers at a sudden peak at his very much tucked away personality. Like a tiger eyeing its next meal through the chain-link of its enclosure.

This fucker! You thought, suddenly feeling like a kid who just watched the last of their favorite treat get swallowed up. How dare he keep sexy secrets from me. 

You sent him a deadly glare, an unappealing whine slipping from your throat. “That’s not fair, Ratch!”

The servo under your shirt shifted upwards slightly, digits caressing the curve of your spine. A breathy keen replaced your quick forming tirade and you couldn’t help leaning into the touch. His expression said it all for you. The medic knew exactly what he was doing.

Then again, he was a quick learner.

“What’s the phrase again? Life’s not fair?”

Oh, how you wanted to wipe that smug look off his face. The digits dancing along your back didn’t seem to want to help your stuttering mind from its predicament.

“Nevermind, no more human phrases for you.” You grumbled, recovering quickly. Knowledge was power, and human knowledge in Ratchet’s servos was like playing with fire. His knowledge of you–your ins and outs–was like dancing through hellflame, though.

Breath suddenly hitching as he leaned in close, he gently bumped his helm against your brow bone. Taking care to shift his chevrons out of the way, lest he accidentally stab you. He moved to speak–which was probably more stupid snark from his stupid (handsome) face in that stupid (attractive) tone–and you instantly took the opportunity to jolt forward. Slotting your lips against his, stalling his engine and actually drawing a surprised whoop of his sirens. The small snort of amusement you gave was incredibly short lived, as his servo gave a gentle tug of your hair.

 Your gasp, with the following undercurrent of a soft moan, gave him just enough of a chance to slip his glossa past your lips. The taste of iron and static charge sat against your tongue, and your eyes fluttered closed. Any sane person surely wouldn’t find enjoyment in such a strange mix of taste. But at this point, sane wasn’t even part of the equation. Not when you got a chance at riding with (on) the party ambulance. The grouchy, moody, but incredibly skilled and fine wine, agedly handsome party ambulance.

Imagining a younger, college age version of this bot sent blood pumping straight between your legs. Fuck, Cybertron had been lucky to witness the glory of prime-time Ratchet. Young, Fast, Energetic, and definitely a great–

The ever learning and observing medic settled his servos down along your hips now. Applying skillful and perfect pressure that pulled soft whines and moans from your mouth, and took you from your fantastical thoughts. You’d revisit those later…in the safety of your room, with the comfort of your…toys.

A quick learner who knew–and catalogued–just where to touch to mold your mind into such hazy thoughts. As if he knew just what you were thinking. Like he was silently saying to you, ‘I may not be young, but don’t think I’ve lost the energy and spunk to break your brains.’ Or something like that. Though, that may have just been your own mind saying that to you. Then again…with magic hands McGee over here, your brain even struggled to make its silent snide comments.

It clung desperately to any rationale it still held, not that any of it would last long enough. Not with eons old, intelligent as fuck, alien medic man pressed right up against you. Rumbling frame and hissing joints steadily working to clog your brain and untense your body. Biolights flashing a very alluring, tantalizing, pattern beneath the cracks of his armor plating. 

Just relax. They almost spoke to you. And damnit if you didn’t want to listen. Because you really really wanted to. You’d need to ask Ratchet about that later…when thinking wasn’t so hard…let alone speaking.

It probably would help if you didn’t have metal, and shockingly soft, lips moving so expertly against yours. Glossa slipping against your lips and pushing your own tongue down. Static sparkling deliciously against the roof of your mouth. A pleasant little buzz.

Ratchet pulled back just slightly, enough to look at your blissed out expression with a soft chuckle. He hasn’t seen that sort of effect since he was back in Medical School as a charged-up, naive mech. But by the gods, he still had it. And with a human, no less.

It made his wheels spin in pure excitement.

Thinking about it, the team wouldn't be back for a couple more groons. Having gone out on a scavenging mission for energon. And the old bot had needed a break for a good while. Optimus would certainly agree…

So, just this once, he supposed he’ll take what he deserves.

Settled in his reasoning, the aged mech slid his servos under your thighs and easily lifted you right up against the metal wall. Your back sat flush against it as his grip held you securely. The show of strength only caused your face to heat up significantly. Obviously, a human was like holding a bag of grapes compared to the metal these bots flung around regularly. But fuck if it wasn’t hot seeing how effortlessly Ratchet could fling you around.

Though you wished he'd just fling you into the nearest bed, this would do fine.

Locking his lips back up against yours, his engine rumbled loudly. Vibrating his entire frame against your body and sending pleasurable sensations down to the aching between your legs that so desperately needed some touch.

His vents and fans whirred at a deafening pace as his servos found purchase along your waist. Digits sunk gently into the plush skin as he held you pinned against the wall with his hips. Your legs settled along the runners of his hip guards and you just barely registered his antenna wagging at the movement. Like some overgrown, metal puppy. How adorable.

You silently thanked the gods that the kids weren’t here to witness this. 

Unfortunately, that was the last sensible thought your brain could make before Ratchet’s skillful touch dipped into your shorts. Completely shattering any rational idea from that moment on. At that moment all you could think was,

Thank you Primus for crafting this hunk of a wonderfully handsome, and incredibly skilled man. But please…just don’t let him break me.

[marsdql]

Enhypen members reaction to you needing a bandaid!

— pure fluff, ot7, members reactions separately, no warnings, babying maybe?, wc: 0.5k —

Heeseung

Heeseung immediately notices and is quick to act like the attentive boyfriend he is.

“Hold still, babe,” he says, taking your hand gently. He kneels beside you with a soft frown and inspects the cut. “You’re so clumsy sometimes, you know that?” he teases, though his eyes are full of concern. He makes sure to clean the wound carefully, then kisses your hand once the bandaid is on. “There, all better. Now, no more injuries, okay? Or I’ll have to follow you around all day.”

rest of the members below!

Jay

Jay notices the cut and sighs, already acting like your protector.

“How’d you manage this?” he asks, grabbing a bandaid from the cabinet. He sits across from you, his hands warm and steady as he disinfects the cut. “You know you should call me when stuff like this happens,” he adds, his tone serious but affectionate. Once he’s done, he gently presses a kiss to your forehead. “You’re my responsibility, and I’m not letting anything happen to you.”

Jake

Jake spots the injury and immediately shifts into his affectionate boyfriend mode.

“Oh no, my baby got hurt?” he coos, his brows furrowed in exaggerated worry. He rushes to get a bandaid, returning with the most colorful one he could find. “Look, it’s got puppies on it—perfect for you!” he jokes, gently cleaning and covering the wound. After he’s done, he wraps you in a tight hug. “Next time, let me do all the dangerous stuff, alright? You’re too precious.”

Sunghoon

Sunghoon acts nonchalant at first but can’t help showing his caring side.

“You need a bandaid for that?” he teases, smirking as he grabs the first-aid kit. But when he sits down and takes your hand, his teasing stops. His hands are gentle as he cleans the wound and applies the bandaid with surprising precision. “There. No need to cry over it,” he says, kissing your hand softly. Then, with a sly grin, he adds, “But if you want me to baby you, just say so.”

Sunoo

Sunoo instantly turns into a mix of caring and playful.

“Oh my gosh, why didn’t you tell me sooner?” he exclaims, rushing to find the cutest bandaid available. He takes your hand, his touch soft as he cleans the wound. “You have to take better care of yourself, or else I’ll have to do it for you!” Once the bandaid is on, he dramatically blows on your finger like it’s a ritual. “All done! Now you owe me a kiss for being the best boyfriend ever.”

Jungwon

Jungwon notices the injury before you even bring it up.

“Come here,” he says, his voice soft yet firm. He guides you to sit down and carefully cleans the cut. “You have to be more careful, alright? I don’t like seeing you hurt.” His tone is gentle, but there’s a protective edge to it. After putting on the bandaid, he cups your face and looks into your eyes. “Promise me you’ll be more cautious next time?” he asks, pressing a light kiss to your forehead.

Ni-ki

Ni-ki tries to act cool but secretly melts seeing you hurt.

“Oh, you need a bandaid? Don’t worry, I got this,” he says, pretending it’s no big deal. But as he cleans the wound, his focus is intense, and he keeps glancing at you to make sure it doesn’t hurt too much. “You’re so reckless,” he mutters, but his tone is more affectionate than annoyed. Once he’s done, he playfully flicks your forehead. “There. Now be more careful. I’m not always gonna be here to save you… okay, maybe I will.”

[anantaru]

DAY 31 — drunk sex

kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3

𖧡 — including — dan heng, jing yuan

𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, drunk syx, nipple play, lots of teasing, clothed syx, messy making out, both parties are consenting

𖧡 — DAN HENG

your boyfriend dan heng was always beautiful— but to tell the truth, whenever he was magnified with a light shading of pink covering the expanse of his cheeks, it suited him very well. and it's hot when you close the distance between your frames, it's sweaty and you were aware that the obvious stickiness and mess in between your bodies pressed against each other, was greatly amplified by the copious amounts of alcohol you had consumed earlier this night.

dan heng breathes out a shaky exhale when you both grind and fondle with your bodies, even though the alcohol was pumping steadily through your veins, making the experience a little different with the obvious smell of booze persisting inside the humid room— it's still so desperate though, and for some reason it almost felt like an aphrodisiac you had consumed earlier that made you be all over each other in such ways.

he grips your hips tight, fingers digging into the soft skin as he rolls his erection forward with one, fast snap, both groaning into each others mouth at the welcoming penetration— sweet and sinful desires churning inside your darkened eyes when he drives quick, shallow thrusts against your pussy, enough to drive you damn near insane. 

"you have no idea how much i needed that," dan heng admits as he murmurs between lingering kisses, smiling faintly against you as he notices a happy hum of a laugh vibrate through his darling lips, "i could barely wait— ah, to get out of there,"

and like muscle memory, he trails his length along the sweet spots of your cunt the moment you confess back to him— angling his hips so precisely so he'd stretch you out all open and nicely, dragging and conquering the sheer tightness of your walls.

𖧡 — JING YUAN

"one more, ‘more kisses," jing yuan slurrs his words into your neck before darting out his tongue to lick the flat of the wet muscle over the sensitive skin, gratified to feel your quickened pulse beneath his careless touch— and as a matter of fact, the general wasn't particularly someone who'd oftentimes drink alcohol, nor overdo it for that matter.

while tonight you had both decided to go out for a couple of drinks, nothing to celebrate, it all started as an innocent date— well, only to come stumbling home, wildly entangled falling against the mattress as you're making out with each other like two starved beings unable to be separated.

fierce need burns through his eyes when he laps from your collarbones to your tits, "look at me," jing yuan murmurs at you with one finger firm on your jaw to turn your face down on him playing with your mounds, your clouded, drunk expression greeting him immediately— on top of that, he leisurely rolls his clothed erection into your warmth before noticing how you're soaked, your face and body so hot that jing yuan got alarmed and worried you'd end up melting under him.

"i love you, jing yuan," you babble lowly, an involuntary tribute under your words while breathing hard, nearly destroyed by lust, trembling at the very edge and hoping he would touch you properly as you roll your hips up into his thudding groin— his mouth latching on to one nipple now when you bite back a whine, his sealed mouth choosing to wrap and suck on the sensitive skin.

"i love love love love you you," you bat your lashes all sweetly at him and oh, it's immediate, the effect of your words and showcase how very much jing yuan was adoring those high pitched noises slipping from the tip of your tongue right now, it's heavenly music to his ears whenever you were so vocal about the love you harbored for your boyfriend.

you hitch back a breather when he catches one peaked nipple with his wandering fingertips as he squeezes his erection against you harder, your heaves catching at the visible shudder of arousal crumbling against your wet panties, falling apart under him as you squeal within an airy laugh as he playfully bites down at one nipple, your needy cunt spasming around nothing.

"i love you too," he drawls back, eyes gently blinking up at you and feeling how you're sneakily pitching your hips up at him, your chest breathing and both whining slightly when he meets your shimmering eyes with his own handsome ones, "so, so much."

©2023 anantaru's kinktober do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[bennyboyfics]

Under the lights || Ben Shelton x gf!reader

Summary: your first time watching Ben’s match live!!

Wc: 710

Warnings: none!!

MASTERLIST

-

You knew what you were getting into when you started dating Ben. The cameras, the headlines, the constant attention—it was all part of his world. But knowing something in theory was very different from experiencing it firsthand. And tonight, as you walked into the stadium for the first time to watch him play, the reality of it all hit you like a tidal wave.

The moment you stepped into the player’s area, the atmosphere shifted. Flashing lights from photographers, the hum of voices murmuring about Ben’s arrival, the feeling of being watched—it was overwhelming. You weren’t just some anonymous face in the crowd. You were his girl, and everyone here seemed to know it.

Your fingers tightened around his as you walked, your stomach twisting with nerves. Ben noticed immediately. He always did. His grip on your hand firmed, grounding you as he pulled you slightly closer. Then, without hesitation, he dipped his head and pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead. His lips were warm, soft, a stark contrast to the chaotic energy surrounding you.

“You okay, baby?” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and intimate, meant for your ears alone. You swallowed hard, nodding. “Yeah, I just—” You exhaled sharply, trying to steady yourself. “I didn’t think there’d be this many cameras.” Ben let out a quiet chuckle, his other hand coming up to gently squeeze your wrist. “Yeah, they don’t miss much,” he admitted. “But don’t worry about them. Just look at me, alright?”

You met his eyes, and the warmth there was immediate, steady, a silent reassurance that no matter how big this world was, you weren’t facing it alone. He led you through the maze of the players’ area, never once letting go of your hand. His touch was an anchor, his presence a shield against the prying eyes and the overwhelming noise of everything around you.

You passed other players, their teams, and officials—some offered polite nods, others subtle smirks, as if they recognized what it meant for Ben to have you here. But he didn’t seem to care about them. At one point, when you hesitated, feeling just a little lost in the unfamiliarity of it all, he slowed his steps, turning to face you. His brows furrowed, his expression softening.

“Hey,” he said, cupping your face with one large, warm palm. “Are you sure you’re okay? We can take a second if you need to.” His thumb brushed gently over your cheek, the simple, reassuring gesture making your chest tighten in a way that had nothing to do with anxiety. He was always like this with you—soft, patient, protective in a way that made you feel like the only person in the world.

You exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking your head. “I’m fine. It’s just… a lot.” Ben hummed, his eyes searching yours for a moment before he leaned in and pressed another kiss to your forehead. “I got you,” he murmured against your skin. “Just stay close, yeah?” And you did. Even when he had to step away to warm up, he made sure you were settled in his player’s box, checking on you with a quiet glance before he finally stepped onto the court.

The energy in the stadium shifted immediately, the crowd buzzing with excitement as Ben took his place. Watching him play in person was an entirely different experience. He was electric—powerful, precise, a force of nature under the bright stadium lights. Every serve, every forehand, every sprint across the court carried an intensity that had your heart pounding.

But even with all that focus, he still found moments to check on you. Between points, his eyes would flick up to the box, searching for you. And when he found you, he’d flash you a soft, reassuring smile, just a little curve of his lips that told you he knew exactly how you were feeling. It was in those small moments that the nerves faded, the overwhelming pressure of the cameras and the crowd melting away.

Because in a stadium full of thousands, it felt like Ben was playing for you.

[fourthavecafe]

My face and ears are so red reading your work oh my god, I love it.

I have a request, pleaseee?: Nanami trying to give reader a full body massage? Key word: trying lol

nanami trying to just give you a normal massage

(note-thank you so much for liking my work I hope you enjoy reading this and I’m so sorry for taking forever I hope you’re still around love 🤍)

______๑♡⁠๑______

The evening was serene with soft, warm lighting filling the room and the calming scent of lavender lingering in the air.

You lay on the plush massage table, feeling utterly relaxed, as Nanami's hands worked skillfully over your shoulders, melting away any tension.

His hands were firm yet gentle, kneading your muscles with expert precision and you felt an overwhelming sense of peace and gratitude.

Nanami was always the perfect husband, attentive and thoughtful in every way but moments like this made you feel cherished beyond words.

"Are you comfortable?" he asked, his voice low and warm, as his hands moved slowly down your back.

You nodded, a soft smile on your face.

"Completely" you murmured, sighing as his hands moved with practiced ease, loosening each knot he found.

As he continued, his hands ventured toward your arms, gliding down to your underarms with the same gentle pressure.

But when he brushed the sensitive spot there, you felt a ticklish sensation you couldn't quite contain, letting out a small giggle before you could stop yourself.

Nanami noticed immediately, pausing for a second. "Ticklish, are we?" he asked softly, a hint of amusement in his voice. Instead of lingering, though, he moved his hands away respectfully, focusing on your back once more.

But as he worked his way down toward your hips, his fingers brushed over your hip bones and you giggled again, unable to resist the ticklish sensation.

This time, he let his hands pause and you could practically feel the smile forming on his face.

"Interesting" he said, his voice laced with playful curiosity. "I didn't realize you were quite so sensitive."

You felt your cheeks warm but before you could respond, his hands moved back toward your hips with a much lighter touch, this time deliberately grazing over the sensitive spots that had made you laugh before.

"Nanami-!" you managed, squirming as his hands trailed over your sides with just enough pressure to make you wiggle, laughter spilling out despite your best efforts to stay still.

"Hmm?" he replied innocently, though his hands continued their light, ticklish dance over your sides, tracing from your hips up toward your ribs with maddening precision.

"Nanami, please!" you laughed, squirming as he explored every ticklish spot with a smirk.

"You're doing this on purpose!"

He chuckled, his normally serious expression softened with rare playfulness. "Well, I did start out giving you a massage" he said with a slight smile, "but I didn't realize l'd find such... interesting reactions."

As his fingers brushed over your ribs, you couldn't hold back your laughter, twisting and trying to escape his grasp but his hands held you gently in place, fingers expertly teasing your sides.

"Alright, alright, I surrender!" you managed between fits of laughter, trying to catch your breath.

He finally relented, his hands moving back to your shoulders, returning to his original, gentle touch. Leaning down, he pressed a soft kiss to your temple, smiling as you finally caught your breath.

"Feel better now?" he asked, his tone soft and affectionate.

You nodded, a bit breathless, unable to resist smiling back. "you can be so unpredictable nanami."

"As long as you're happy" he murmured, his hands resuming their tender, soothing movements, bringing the evening back to the gentle, romantic moment it had started as, with a little added laughter along the way.

[belit0]

Can you do a scenario for senju bro + indra + uchiha bros where they train the reader to deep throat them without gagging.

I can melt an igloo, yeah cause I'm so damn hot

Indra

The weight of his gaze alone was enough to still her. Indra did not rush, nor did he command—he merely waited, the unbearable quiet stretching between them like an unspoken challenge. His fingers brushed the curve of her jaw, tilting her face upward.

–Slowly.– The word was a decree, low and absolute, spoken with the quiet authority of a man accustomed to obedience.

His patience was deliberate, torturous in its measured precision. Each time she faltered, each time she hesitated, Indra neither chastised nor soothed—he merely watched, his dark eyes unblinking, dissecting every trembling breath she took, every uncertain movement.

–Again.– His thumb ghosted over her lower lip, his approval silent, hidden in the way his breath grew just a touch heavier. He allowed no shortcuts, no desperate pace. She would learn him at the speed he dictated, or not at all.

And when she finally pleased him, Indra rewarded her—not with praise, but with the smallest, rarest curve of his lips, dark satisfaction written in his gaze.

Madara

Madara was not a patient man. He did not guide with silence nor instruct with indifference—he taught through touch, through teasing, through the sheer force of his presence.

–You can do better than that.– The growl in his voice was edged with amusement, but there was expectation beneath it, sharp and uncompromising.

His fingers tangled in her hair, not to force, but to guide—to tilt her just so, to test her reactions, to see how much she could take before retreating.

–Relax your jaw, little dove. If you struggle this much now…– A deep chuckle, his free hand ghosting down the side of her throat. –I might have to go easy on you later.–

He wouldn’t. And they both knew it.

He enjoyed her defiance, the slight resistance before she finally surrendered to the rhythm he set, before she let herself be molded to his liking. And when she finally got it right, his praise came not in words, but in the shudder of his breath, the slow drag of his fingers against her scalp as he murmured, just loud enough for her to hear—

–That’s it. Just like that.

Izuna

Izuna was different. Playful. Teasing. He did not demand perfection; he wanted to pull it from her, piece by piece, reveling in every moment of her struggle.

–Mmm, you’re really trying, aren’t you?– The laughter in his tone was maddening, his touch light, never still—fingertips tracing over the sensitive skin of her neck, down the line of her spine, distracting and guiding all at once.

Each mistake earned a hum of consideration, a slow smirk as he adjusted her with lazy confidence.

–Not quite. Try again.

His patience was deceptive. He would never scold, never demand—he would simply wait, his amusement growing as she floundered under his gaze.

And when she finally found the rhythm he wanted, the reward was immediate. A sharp inhale. The grip of his fingers tightening, no longer teasing but praising.

–Fuck… That’s my girl.

Hashirama

Hashirama was… indulgent. He taught through praise, through warmth, through the sheer overwhelming pleasure of being at his mercy.

–You’re doing so well, love.– His voice was thick with approval, fingers brushing against the back of her head, gentle but firm.

He felt every shiver, every nervous breath, and soothed them away with murmured encouragement, with small touches meant to comfort rather than overwhelm.

–No need to rush. Take your time.

And yet, despite his patience, there was something else lurking beneath. A quiet hunger. A heat that built with each passing second, straining against his self-control.

When she finally moved just the way he wanted, when she finally understood, a curse escaped his lips—low, reverent. His grip flexed, no longer just a guide but a silent plea for more.

–Ah… perfect.

Tobirama

Tobirama was clinical. Precise. He taught as though this, too, was just another skill to be perfected—a battle of technique, of control, of discipline.

–Too fast.– His voice was cool, instructive, as if he were correcting a miscalculated strike in combat.

His hand rested against the back of her neck, a silent reminder of the pace he demanded. No excess. No reckless desperation.

–Steady your breathing.

And yet, for all his detachment, the subtle shifts in his composure betrayed him. The sharp inhale when she finally obeyed. The slight clench of his jaw when she pushed herself further. The way his fingers tightened, just for a moment, before forcing himself to release her.

He would not praise. He would not indulge.

But when she finally mastered him, when she finally pleased him in the way he had meticulously guided her towards, the rarest thing of all slipped past his lips—

A single, quiet groan.

And that was all the approval she would need.

[sleepystarsong]

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚ ‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦‧˚₊

Synopsis: Takes place between the scene switch in Zayne’s Heart String Healer tender moment. Zayne x Reader

Rated: Somewhat smutty & highly playful.

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚ ‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦‧˚₊

The students have yet to leave.

Their litany of hopeful outcomes with the esteemed Doctor Zayne fill the charged silence you flounder in.

You back away until Zayne’s face is no longer a smear of color, but a properly smoldering face.

Attempting to cool the mingling flames, you say, “well doctor Zanye, aren’t you curious how it tastes?”

He smirks, small by most standards, lips uneven under the crook of his nose. “Will Physician Quack tattle of I say no?”

You scoff. “I may be a quack, but even I know about patient confidentiality.”

Ah,” Zayne hums into your scalp, lips a sudden burst of affection. “Then I trust your professionalism during my appointment.”

Large hands guide skilled fingers to ease under your shirt and tease your bare sides.

“You trust too easily.” Your voice is a shaky breath, the stethoscope clattering to your lap, then to the floor.

Stiffening as the chatter outside hushes, you become more aware of where you are and what you’re doing just a door away from Zayne’s adoring public.

“No,” Zayne whispers against your brow, a blur once more, “I’m quite cautious. I cannot let you leave without signing a confidentiality agreement, for example.”

A sweet line of kisses trailed down your brow, then cheek. “With what pen,” you gasp as the gentle pressure circling your back catches at your bra strap, deft fingers unclasping without struggle as the students giggle by the door.

Your heart beats beyond the pace Zayne’s had moments before, embarrassed yet unable to flee from such a willing patient.

“How heartless, Doctor Quack. Shouldn’t you care for your ailing patient first?”

Zayne slides you fully into his lap, the cups of your bra loose and pressing against his chest.

“You seem rather lively,” you whisper. “I’ll check your temperature to make sure, though.”

Teasing and light, you rock above him, enjoying the hard line of his desire growing hotter underneath you.

You repeat the movement when he attempts to respond and he presses you firm and still. Despite his enflamed stare, Zayne’s tone is as light as yours , “then by all means, doctor.”

“Hmm,” you say, emphasizing your false pondering with a tapping finger to the chin. “I need a thermometer.”

Soon you’re brushing the seam of his lips and he obliges, allowing you to angle his chin up for a better look at his open mouth.

“Shall I suggest a suitable improvisation,” Zayne says, tongue darting to wet your thumb. “From one doctor to another?”

With a shake of your head you pinch his bottom lip. “No need. I already have the perfect substitute.”

Your mouth melts against his, flame against flame, tongue sweeping underneath his to take in the damp heat.

Of their own accord, your hips grind down once more, this time harsh and needy. You end the temperature check with a nibble to Zayne’s bottom lip.

The flickering hazel of his eyes and flush creeping down his neck illicit a fierce shiver down your back.

Or perhaps it’s the tickle of his fingers sweeping your spine, separating to grab hold of your hips once more.

“Well? Will I live, in your horribly unprofessional opinion?”

Cradling Zayne’s face, kissing the bridge of his nose, and relaxing as the conversation outside fans away and fades, you smile.

“It’s pretty dire,” you say. “We’ll have to take immediate action.”

“So that’s your prognosis.”

With patient precision, his belt comes undone under your touch. Then the buttons of his shirt. You rip the topmost button with a mischievous flourish.

“How do you feel about hospital gowns, Doctor Zayne?”

His pant is shallow and sharp as you take the firm weight of his desire into one hand, stroking up with a firm grip.

“Your bedside manner is improving, but I’m still wary.”

Wrist twisting as your stroke again, you tsk, “don’t be scared. This is the treatment plan you suggested, remember?”

Zayne’s answer is to unbutton your jeans and slide them down your thighs after helping to lift your hips.

“Then you won’t mind if I help myself to something sweet, since you’re forcing the patient to treat himself.”

Your back is against Zayne’s desk, jeans stuck around your calves as he ducks between them, nibbling down your thighs.

Flame to flame, indeed.

[bp-zb1fics]

Missing Park Hanbin hours😔 I’m Phanbin deprived😭😭 can you do highly suggestive cuddles with hanbin <3

Perfectionist

pairing: park hanbin x reader

genre: canon ish, fluff, suggestive themes

tw/tags: waking up, kisses, pet names, light banter, making out, kinda stripping, non explicit descriptions of intimacy, it gets real cheesy towards the end, lets have self confidence everybody, I’d like to go to sleep now too pls and thanks

wc: 677

summary: maybe you’re the reason hanbin’s so obsessed with perfection.

a/n it's quite overdue bc of things that have happened (I believe we are all aware) but i hope you enjoy this anon!

Check my pinned for more fics!!

“Jagiya~”

Hanbin watches as your face scrunches up a little, making a non-committal noise and trying to hide your face in his chest. He laughs a little, petting at your hair. You melt into his touch, not wanting to get up. He doesn’t either.

Perfect mornings start with you. 

Maybe his body aches from a late night of practice. Maybe his head is protesting just a little from a lack of sleep. Still, he likes seeing how you wake up, reluctantly opening your eyes and looking absolutely affronted by the idea that you’d have to leave the bed.

It’s adorable. You’re adorable. It might be him. But the way you groan and try your best to reach for every part of his body and stubbornly pretend you’re still asleep is the best thing he’s ever seen.

Hanbin, for most part, is a morning person. Or at least, he is when it comes to you. Because why be asleep when he can spend every waking moment with his favourite person? 

“Bin-ah?”

“Mmmm?”

“Stop thinking so much and go back to sleep.”

“And what if I don’t want to go to sleep?” He teases you in the sing-song voice that you don’t really appreciate at the moment.

“Then shut up and let me sleep.”

“I don’t want to,” God, now he’s whining. With much effort, you open your eyes and peek up at his stupid smiling face. Well that won’t do.

There’s exactly one way to make Park Hanbin shut up in this kind of situation.You take a mental survey. He did mention not having schedules today. You didn’t have anything on either. It all checked out.

You grab the front of his shirt to pull yourself up and kiss him. Immediately, he’s kissing back, the hand in your hair cradling the back of your head. He catches your bottom lip and something pleasant pops in your brain. Blindly, you reach over and nudge and perhaps shove a bit until you’re on top of him.

His hands are on your shoulders, sliding down your rib cage, gripping at your waist, roaming all over. They’re needy, pressing gently at your hips until they’re against his. He inhales sharply at the pressure, the friction as you swivel them a little. If waking up holding you got him a little firm, he was definitely aching for you now.

Fingers slip under your shirt to caress bare skin. You’re mouthing at his neck, nipping and running your tongue over what you know are his sensitive spots but you don’t leave marks. That’s for another day, when he has enough time for them to fade.

Hanbin has such precise control of his body until it comes to you. You who knows where to touch, where to be soft and when to be a little firmer. You can make his hips jump involuntarily, ripping out sharp inhales and sweet sighs, his hands develop a mind of its own around you. 

It’s dangerous. Hanbin’s a little obsessed. He’s a firm believer in practice. That the constant repetition and correction will condition the body to move closer and closer to perfection. No amount of practice can prepare him for the way you slip down, tugging at his shorts as you do. He can’t correct himself, only lay there helplessly as you take what you want, leaving him trembling and full to the brim with desire.

Nothing is more perfect than the faces you make when he pleases you, the noises that he pulls from your lips. He’s greedy, he’ll practise over and over and over again until you are shaking and shoving him off.

Perfect is lying with you, limp and maybe a little lightheaded. Chest heaving as you bully your way back into his arms, close your eyes and doze off. And suddenly going back to sleep  sounds like the best thing in the world. Because that’s the kind of power you have over him.

So who can blame Park Hanbin for being a perfectionist when he’s in love with the perfection that is you?

[deardjarin]

save a horse (ride a cowboy)

agent whiskey x f!reader

sometimes you get a little… jealous

words: 1.5k

warnings: smut, office sex, mentions of voyeurism

⋆⭑✦⭑⋆

You know your partner.

You know how he flirts with most people he meets, but you also know how he would never be unfaithful to you. But, you can’t help but get a bit jealous when you hear him tease other girls.

You checked in two women for a meeting with the Agent: an older lady and a young college student who both work for a private investigation company. You can hear the younger girl giggling through the glass door- giggling. You’re sure Whiskey is pulling his usual tricks to strike a deal with the ladies.

You find yourself gripping your pen harder than usual.

The meeting ends at precisely 4:35.

The women kindly bid their goodbye, but the younger’s face is bright red.

Frustrated, you input the time into your system.

You smooth out your pencil skirt and fix your hair when you stand up. The room is awfully quiet; you need a certain Statesman agent to break the silence.

The automatic door opens with a quiet swish, revealing Whiskey sitting behind his desk. He’s staring intently at his computer, most likely sending off emails to his fellow agents.

“Jack Daniels.”

Whiskey beams, leaning back in his office chair.

“Well hell-o little miss,” He drawls, slightly tilting his head to the side. He beckons you with one hand, and pats his thigh twice. “C’mere, sugar.”

You keep your gaze firm, even though you want to stumble over to him like a newborn deer and collapse in his arms. Your heels click softly on the polished hardwood as you approach him, and instead of slipping into his lap, you stand behind him. Resting your hands on his shoulders, you give him a little squeeze.

“Did you have a productive meeting?” You ask, kissing his cheek. A bit of stubble pokes your lips, but you don’t mind.

“I sure did,” He replies, smoothing the fabric of his pants.

You twist a lock of his dark hair between your fingers, and trail more kisses down the sharp line of his jaw. He exhales a shaky breath, tightening his grip on the arms of the chair.

“Were those girls nice, Agent?” You continue. Whiskey shifts in his seat, noticeably aroused.

“They sure were- sweetheart, may I ask why you’re interrogatin’ me right now?”

You hum, running your fingers over the knot of his tie.

“I’m sure if you’d given them the chance, they’d be all over you,” You comment. “I mean, who wouldn’t? That’s what happened with us.”

The corner of Whiskey’s mouth turns upwards.

“Is that what this is all about?” He asks.

You maneuver yourself around and slip onto his lap, straddling his thick thighs with yours. His calloused hands immediately fly to your waist, steadying you.

“Maybe,” You breathe, cupping his face in both of your hands.

“You and I both know that I’d never touch another woman as long as you’re with me,” He says. His fingers find their way under the hem of your pencil skirt, and his touch burns.

“That so?” You ask, trying not to melt at his words. He hums, turning his head to the side and kissing your palm.

“You gonna let me show you how much you mean to me?”

You nod, breathless, and kiss him.

His kisses are always sloppy, a little messy, but they’re so full of passion that you don’t mind. Accidentally, you knock his cowboy hat off of his head.

“Are-“ You whine when his lips meet your neck, mustache rubbing against your sensitive skin. “Are you going to lock the door?’

“Maybe I’ll keep it open,” Whiskey drawls between kisses. “I’m sure those girls would love to see you, squirmin’ like a bug on my lap. Or maybe that shy little intern- what was his name? Frankie? I see the way he looks at you when he brings up papers.”

You moan, grinding your clothed cunt against his thighs.

“Jack…”

You’ve given up on your original plan. Whenever his hands- oh, his hands, cup your ass, you lose any semblance of rational thought.

Whiskey pulls away, making sure you’re balanced, and fiddles with the top button of your blouse. You usually keep a few undone because Whiskey likes it, but it’s clear he wants to see a little more than what you’re showing.

“Just gorgeous,” He groans when he fiddles with the last button, leaving your stomach and bra exposed.

“C-Can you lock the door?” You ask bashfully, shivering when Whiskey’s fingers brush over the curves of your hips.

“‘Course,” He says. Wrapping his arm around your waist to keep you steady, he leans forward and logs on to his high tech computer. There’s a faint beeping sound from the keypad outside of the frosted glass door.

“Make me so fuckin’ hard, baby,” Whiskey groans, gripping your wrist and guiding your hand to his crotch. As expected, your hand brushes against the hard outline of his cock, trapped in the fabric of his jeans. “Feel that? S’all for you.”

A strangled moan falls from your lips, and you give him a gentle squeeze.

“Let me-“ You stop mid-thought and hastily undo the clasp of his belt. The metal clang interrupts the sound of your heavy breathing: the only sound in the office. Your hands shake as you fiddle with his zipper, and with a deep breath you pull out his cock from his boxers.

Whiskey moans deeply at your touch. He’s warm and hard and you want him inside you so bad.

“Stand up, baby, take off your skirt,” He orders. You can see him clench his jaw, most likely restraining himself from standing up and throwing you against the desk.

Your legs are shaky as you unzip the back of your skirt, pulling the black fabric downwards. Watching you with dark eyes, your partner slowly pumps his cock.

“Sit back down, princess,” He murmurs, patting his thigh with his free hand.

Damn straight, You think. I’m his princess.

“Jack, I- I want to feel you.”

You notice the way his dick has left a wet spot on his dress shirt- shit, now he’s going to have to go home and change, all because of you-

“Mm!” You exclaim when Whiskey’s rough fingers find themselves inside your panties, pressing against your swollen clit. You have to grip onto his broad shoulders while he massages your wet cunt.

You’re a little upset when he pulls his hand away.

“Soaked.”

You feel like the air gets knocked out of your chest when he brings his fingers to his lips, tasting you.

“So sweet,” He growls. “Sweet like a goddamn Georgia peach. Wish I could taste you all day.”

His words feel like they make your body temperature rise to a thousand.

“Whiskey,” You half scold, half moan.

“Fuckin’- wanna bend over the desk? Let me fuck you from behind?”

You shake your head, gripping onto the expensive fabric of his suit jacket.

“Let me ride you, Jack.”

Whiskey throws his head back and swears. You let out a breathy laugh; you, and only you, can have him wrapped around your finger.

“I’ll let you do whatever you want,” He blurts, cock twitching against his stomach. “You gonna ride this cowboy, sugar?”

“Yeah,” You breathe, and your thighs shake as you lift your core enough so he can slip inside you. Whiskey holds your panties to the side while he guides the tip of his cock to your entrance. The two of you moan as you drop downwards, your ass pressing against his thighs.

“Shit,” He grunts through his teeth.

You take a moment to catch your breath before moving.

Jack keeps his hands on your waist, but leans forward to chase your lips. You cup his face in your hands, mindlessly kissing him while you move your hips. He fills you up so well, stretching and stuffing you in a way no one else can. You’re no stranger to this, in fact you’re quite skilled, but your legs still burn from the effort. It’s nothing compared to the way Whiskey’s cock slides in and out of you, though.

“Just like that,” He mumbles in between kisses.

You clench around him every time your clit brushes against his jeans. You’re sure Whiskey can feel it too; he squeezes his eyes shut each time it happens.

“S’good, sweetheart,” He praises. “Ready to cum?”

You shout in pleasure, nodding vigorously. His fingers find their way back to your clit, rubbing quick circles against you.

Your whole body shakes from your release.

It’s embarrassingly quick, but Jack keeps mumbling “that’s a good girl” in your ear. He continues to thrust into you, his movements becoming sloppy and erratic.

You slump against his chest while he finishes deep inside you, hips stuttering against your skin.

“Ain’t never had a better girl than you,” He says softly, brushing the back of his hand against your cheek. You smile; he always gets soft after he’s with you.

Before you can respond, the computer lights up.

Incoming Video Call: Agent Champagne

[idontblushsrry]

SFW Alphabet||Nanami Kento

A/N: A lil sumn sumn for the Nanami stans, yall have impeccable taste. I was gonna release an NSFW alphabet, but since this one was requested, I’ll post this first. Featuring a bit of rambling (srry I’ve got Nanami brainrot ig + I was tired writing some parts) as well as Gojo and Mahito slander!! 

Ft. a gender neutral reader

Word Count: 2888

A: Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

First thing is, he’s not big on PDA, while he does give affection liberally, especially when it’s through his actions, Nanami prefers to keep his gestures of love private. In private however, he shows his affection in a myriad of ways. One of his favorites being helping you with your hair, the act not only makes him feel closer to you but it also allows for him to take care of you, one of his favorite things to do.

B: Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Nanami is definitely the best friend that is reliable. Sure he’s reliable as a friend, the two of you likely became friends initially due to this, but what makes you his best friend is returning that same energy. It’s draining to always be the one holding everything together, just once, Nanami would like to have a shoulder to lean on. Once you become that for him, it won’t be long before the two of you become best friends.

C: Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Cuddles with Nanami are so warm and safe regardless of if you’re the little spoon or not. His cuddles are also littered with kisses because when he’s tired, he gets a lot more open with his affection. He doesn’t usually talk when he cuddles but if he has a nightmare and you wake up to sooth him, the sound of your voice alone sets him at ease. 

D: Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Nanami definitely wants to settle down. It’s canon that he’s only working so that he can make enough to retire early. If you’re the breadwinner, or even if he somehow makes enough to retire, he’s going into full house husband mode and no one can tell him otherwise. If it were up to him, he’d do all the cooking, cleaning, and home upkeep while you go out and work. But alas, life is cruel, and as such, he still enjoys cooking and cleaning but the chores are split between you two. Cooking however, is usually a team project, either the both of you make a meal and clean it together afterwards or one cooks and the other does the dishes, either way, it’s perfect for the two of you.

E: Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Nanami is at his core, a very mathematical and precise person. His cursed technique is literally a ratio, because of that, he prefers to breakup with people as cleanly as possible. His breakups tend to sound like they’re following a script because of how to the point he is. When breaking up with you, he just bluntly states that he doesn’t see your relationship as beneficial going forward. Literally the most neutral way to break up with someone, how you’d choose to take it though is up to you.

F: Fiance(e) (How would they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Nanami is the type of person to just elope or have a small ceremony between the two of you. He doesn’t care much for the paperwork or ceremonial side of it, and he is definitely the type of person who just says “You know we’re getting married someday right?”. From that point forward (if you’re ok with it) he’d basically introduce you as his spouse, when questioned though, he just goes “Ah, we’re not married yet.” He’s not shy about commitment though, his dream life is just living in the countryside with his spouse and maybe some animals, he’s a simple man. Not to say that he’s not going to officially propose though, because he will once he finds something good enough to propose with, it’s just that the two of you are “married” before actually being married.

G: Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Nanami is a gentle soul deep down. He cares about those he loves very deeply and would throw his life on the line to protect them. Emotionally, Nanami is always extremely respectful of your feelings. Even things as simple as ranting feel safe, almost like his very presence is cradling you. He’s also very open with you in return, despite his usual deadpan tone, he never hesitates to tell you of his thoughts and feelings once you both trust each other. Physically, Nanami is also extremely gentle. He loves to lavish you in soft touches and kisses. His most common spots for kisses are your nose and forehead. 

H: Hugs( Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Depending on your clumsiness, this may topple you, but Nanami likes to lean into you when giving hugs. His shoulders decompress ad he unconsciously just sinks into you without warning. Now if you’re prepared/ stable enough, you might stumble a little but overall you’ll be fine. If you’re clumsy or not expecting it... let’s hope that there’s something soft behind you because Nanami’s going down with you.

I: I love you (How fast do they say the L-word)

Nanami is very slow to say that he loves you. It’s not that he’s oblivious or doesn’t realize he loves you, once he realizes, he just accepts that as a fact. It’s simply that he gets wrapped up in his own head, worrying about if you love him too, if he’s being too forward, etc. If you confess first, he’ll have a much easier time admitting it (although he may not immediately respond with ‘I love you too’), but if you leave it up to him...you’ll be waiting a while.

J: Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous)

Pretty much all of Nanami’s jealousy comes from the beginning of your relationship when he was a lot more insecure about the place he had in your life. When he would get jealous, he’d just kind of stew in it. It was obvious though that he was jealous and pouting at you and whoever was making him jealous. Later on in your relationship though, he doesn’t get jealous, try as you might. He knows that he’s your partner (a fact that the both of you have affirmed thousands of times) and that no one will come between the two of you. 

K: Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Nanami’s kisses are like melting butter, they’re so smooth and gradually they just get more intense until he pulls away and you’re left dizzy. He’s so firm with his kisses too, he always has to be touching you in some way. Whether it be holding your face or resting his hand against the small of your back, Nanami’s kisses may leave you weak in the knees, but he’ll catch you if you fall.

L: Little ones (How are they around children)

Nanami’s really good with children but in the dad way where you’ll come back and see him and the child both sitting on the couch watching TV. Not to say that he’s lazy with kids but he tends to just let the kid do whatever. If the kid wants Nanami to wear a tutu and do the chicken dance, why not? If the kid wants Nanami to list off animal facts while Nanami listens, sure. Hell, even if the kid just wants to use him as a tablet holder, he’s cool with that. He’s good with kids because he just lets them be kids.

M: Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Mornings with Nanami depend on what the both of you have scheduled for the day. In Nanami’s perfect world, he’d spend the day relaxing with you at home, however, he understands that realistically the both of you have obligations. If it’s a work day for both of you, he’s made a small breakfast and something to drink. If it’s his day off, he spends a little more time laying in bed with you, enjoying the time before you have to leave. If the both of you have the day off, he spends a lot more time on breakfast (not including the extra time he’ll spend in bed with you), plating and serving you before himself and then listening to you talk about your day as he eats.

N: Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Contrary to popular belief, Nanami prefers to come home at a reasonable time and spend his nights with you. Honestly, he’d prefer to just live the house husband lifestyle, but hey, rent in Tokyo is expensive so he doesn’t mind if both of you are working. But because of the fact that he’s working, when he comes home, he sticks to a routine. Said routine consists of either cooking dinner together or ordering takeout, watching tv, and ending the night with cuddling. He’s a simple man, even if you don’t stick to the routine, as long as he gets to hold you when it comes time to sleep, he’s good.

O: Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

It really depends; if you’re a jujutsu sorcerer or even just aware of the supernatural, you’d already either know or have a general idea of his abilities/the world he comes from. If you’re a non-jujutsu sorcerer however, Nanami gets kind of nervous because he doesn’t want you to think he’s crazy. Ideally, if you’re a non-sorcerer, he’d never tell you about that aspect of himself. It’s not like he doesn’t think you should know or even that he’s ashamed; it’s just that’s a chapter of his life that, unless relevant, he doesn’t think is important to know about. To him, it’s just a job, and he’d prefer if you thought of it that way too. 

P: Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Nanami is very patient. Not to say that he doesn’t get angry or upset, or even that he’s slow to feel these emotions, it’s just that he knows when’s the best time to express certain feelings. Even if he’s upset with you, he’s unlikely to lash out in an argument, preferring to cool down and then come back to talk it out in a constructive manner.

Q: Quizzes (How much would they remember about you?  Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Nanami is the most attentive boyfriend one could ever ask for. He remembers every small detail about you like it’s his full time job. He rarely gets the chance to show you all the little details he remembers about you, so he tends to do so in subtle (and practical) ways. For example, when shopping for furniture like dinnerware, he tends to get sets in colors that are either your favorite or that you picture in your “ideal” kitchen. However, when it comes to remembering details, nothing tops morning pre-work Nanami. He knows your morning routine like the back of his hand and he’ll have the coffee (or tea if coffee isn’t your thing) brewing before you can even wonder what’s for breakfast

R: Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

One night, Nanami came home from work dead tired. It was a shitty day overall, filled with deadlines that were suddenly moved up with no warning. As a result, he ended up coming home later than he wanted to, the thought of you waiting for him when he got home carrying him through the last round of paperwork. Everything was dark, and he’d assumed you went to bed. Imagine his surprise when he comes across a bath that you prepared for him with foam, flower petals, fragrances, all the works (it was still somewhat warm so you must’ve done this on his way back). All alongside a note that said ‘If you’re reading this, I’m probably asleep. But you’ve been working hard, take a break and enjoy yourself, Love you Ken.’ After a long day, your note put the warmest smile onto his face. He still keeps the note tucked away neatly in a box with other memories of your relationship.

S: Security (How protective are they? How would they like to be protected?)

Aside from the obvious, because of course Nanami would want you to be safe from curses, he’s protective of you in terms of privacy. Sure, being private about his relationship with you means less curses that would know to use you as a weakness against him, but more importantly, Gojo. It’s not that he doesn’t trust the man, it’s just Gojo knows too much about him that could 1) embarrass him or 2) make you uncomfortable (Gojo’s personality isn’t for everyone.) If you already know/ know about Gojo however, any Gojo warding that you do will be greatly appreciated. If you manage to distract the sorcerer enough for Nanami to slip away, he’s forever grateful. Sure, Gojo gets pouty about Nanami’s avoidance but in his opinion, anyone who knew what he looked like in highschool needs to never speak with him again.

T: Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

If it wasn’t clear from the moment you started dating this man, Nanami doesn’t half ass relationships. The amount of effort he puts into spending time with you/ getting gifts for you ties back to his attentiveness mentioned earlier. Don’t even get him started on daily tasks because he loves doing small things for you to make your day easier. Even if your day is hard, he hopes that his small actions bring a smile to your face regardless. 

U: Ugly (What are some bad habits of theirs? (I’m gonna add arguments here because they aren’t on the prompt list I found))

Nothing he’s the perfect man jkjk. In all seriousness though, Nanami has a tendency to come off as a “mother knows best type”. It’s never intentional and it usually comes from him just trying to help you, but at the end of the day, he has a bad habit of taking over different tasks/speaking over you. Sometimes it’s nice, like at restaurants, he’ll already know your order. Other times it’s overbearing, for example, if you buy something irresponsible, here comes captain Nanami to remind you about the importance of economic spending habits and if your purchase was really “necessary”. Like, love you but can you leave me alone.

V: Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He’s very concerned with his looks. Nanami believes in a standard of appearance that he has to uphold, as such, although his general outfit/styling choices may seem simple, he’s extremely meticulous when it comes to his looks. He’s not the type for anything flashy but best believe he’s not wearing a three piece suit and $400 watch without being impeccably groomed and styled beforehand.

W: Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

No, Nanami doesn’t feel incomplete without you. He understands that the both of you are adults who had lives prior to this relationship. Not only does he enjoy his alone time, he’s also used to being without you for extended periods of time due to his job. All in all, Nanami is a firm believer in the phrase “hate to see them go, but I love to watch them leave.”

X: (E)xes (Any previous relationship experience. How does that factor into your current relationship?)

He has a few exes, all of them relationships that consisted primarily of sex or they were long-term relationships that didn’t go anywhere. After a while, he just kinda threw himself into work, so you’re his first relationship in quite some time. His past partners don’t really factor into your relationship aside from general lessons that he would’ve learned anyway such as; compromise, the value of alone time, showing appreciation for one’s partner.

Y: Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner)

In general, he hates Mahito There aren’t many qualities in a partner that Nanami dislikes that aren’t already expected in a relationship (ex. boundaries, healthy communication, etc.). Overall, he just wants someone that understands when to give him space and when to give him affection, find that balance, and you’re golden. In general though, Nanami’s not really the type to have a specific standard that he looks for in a partner, he does have a tendency to seek out calmer people.

Z: Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

Not necessarily a habit (although he did this a lot more before the two of you started dating) but Nanami is used to all-nighters, no surprise there. An unintended consequence of that is that once he goes to sleep, he’s going down for at least a day. When he knocks out, it’s the type of sleep that leaves you dazed and wondering if you time-traveled after waking up. When he finally does wake up, please bring this man food and water, he needs it.

[savemesomenachos]

So I was thinking about Bucky not being able to 'perform' because he's been stressed and preoccupied. And reader thinks it's their fault because Bucky doesn't address the situation. They eventually get him to talk and he tells them how he's feelings and then proves it's not reader's fault. Could just be fluffy or if you want to, include smut...works either way. Thank you 😘

This request is just ��🏽💋✨Have fun babe!!!

Not What It Seems

AN: This has been in my drafts for forever and I’m finally back to posting, so I’m excited

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Gender Neutral! Reader

Warnings: a few lines of smut, fluff and angst

TW: Mild panic attack - hyperventilation, Self-doubt

Word Count: 1853

18+, Minors DNI

Y/n’s POV:

“Are you serious?” Natasha asks, shifting in her seat at the end of the couch. She lowers the volume of the TV to a dull murmur and turns to face me. She throws her legs up and her cold toes nudge the side of my thighs as she settles in.

“Dead serious. It was just so weird,” I say, picking at the nail I’d been nervously chewing since last night. My eyes flit between my phone on the coffee table and my fidgety hands.

“Doesn’t sound like him,” she says, twisting the lid off her beer and tossing it on the table with deft fingers and precision.

My eyes follow its path through the air wordlessly, and I sigh tiredly. I fold my legs under my thighs and extend a hand in Natasha’s direction. She hands me the beer with a comforting smile.

“Babe,” she says, placing a warm hand on my knee. “Wanna tell me the whole thing?” she asks, her eyes softening at my look of despair at narrating the ‘incident’ again.

“Fine,” I sigh handing her the beer again. “From the beginning?” I ask, side-eyeing her.

“If you want,” she says, settling back into her seat, with sympathetic eyes.

*Flashback*

“I missed you so fucking much,” I moan as I strip Bucky off his gear. He nods enthusiastically and aids me in unbuckling his very complicated buckles.

He crashes his lips to mine and I melt in his arms. His arms hold my body tightly to his as he nudges me back on the bed. I fall backward as Bucky slips my jeans off and crawls over me and his lips touch every path of skin he uncovers while taking my clothes off. His fingers tweak my nipples harshly and my back arches of the bed.

“Buck, s’too sensitive,” I whimper, trying to sit up. With a firm hand on my chest, he pushes me down again.

“I need to be inside you, now!” he whimpers, wide-eyed. His eyes glaze over for a second and I snap out of my need-filled haze.

“Hey,” I say as my hand comes in contact with his tense shoulder. “You ok?”

“Fine,” he rasps before slipping his pants off completely. “Please.”

“Are you sure? We can stop-” I’m cut off by a needy kiss pressed against my lips and a fist tightening in my hair.

He slips his pants off completely to reveal his semi-hard member. His lube coated hand wraps around his member and I see the muscles in his hands strain as he strokes his length. My hand reaches forward of its own accord to assist him but he slaps it away. He crawls over me again and settles his arms on either side of my head. His member slides in back and forth motions against my tight hole and I whimper in anticipation. Slowly, he starts to push in with a hiss.

His thrusts drive sharp and hard but slow, almost teasing. My nails rake across his back and leave angry, red marks in its wake but that doesn’t deter him in the least. He redoubles his efforts with his hands gripping my waist so hard, they bruise. My gaze drifts from where our bodies are joined together to Bucky’s face. His eyes are screwed up in concentration with his tongue darting out to lick his chapped lips.

My body starts to convulse as an orgasm shakes me to the core but Bucky doesn’t stop. His thrusts don’t slow until suddenly, I hear him grunting in frustration. Abruptly he pulls out and kneels on the bed in between my legs with sweat dripping down his forehead and his fists clench and unclench from where they rest on his thighs. I lean up on my elbows and my eyes rake over his body to look for signs of injury.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” I ask, sitting up completely, my hand reaching out to touch his arm.

He flinches before my hand makes contact and I pause, my eyes wide. His eyes find mine but they look empty. He crawls off the bed and walks into the shower without another word. I bite my lip nervously, debating whether to join him but I finally decide against it.

*End of Flashback*

“Wow,” Natasha sighs, her eyes widening in surprise.

“I know,” I say, grabbing the beer out of her hand. She doesn’t fight it, deciding I need it more than her.

“You talk to him yet?”

“He’s always at missions Tasha. He hasn’t taken a break in forever and even when he is here, it’s like he’s not y’know?” I ask, taking a big swig before setting it down on the coffee table, the condensation leaving behind a ring of water.

“I think he’s gonna break up with me,” I say after a moment of silent contemplation. “I mean what else could it be? He’s never like this. I mean he doesn’t even sleep in our room anymore and I…” I trail off, tears forming in my eyes. My breath catches in my throat and Natasha shifts closer.

She wraps an arm around my shoulder and rubs my arm with calloused hands. I throw my arms around her waist and bury my tear soaked face in my chest.

“He loves you, I’m sure there’s a reason,” she says, rubbing comforting circles on my back.

“I don’t know, I just want him back,” I sob as my hands clutch her soft t-shirt.

“I know honey, I know,” She kisses my forehead and strokes my hair. Her body rocks me back and forth as my sobs start to subside.

“Y/n?” I hear a gruff voice whisper as a tall, hunched over figure steps into view.

I raised my hands to my face and harshly rub off any remnants of sadness and when my eyes finally adjust, I see Bucky standing a few feet away from the sofa with his hands wringing together nervously as his teeth sink into his lip, his eyes tearing a hole into me.

“Hey Buck. I didn’t know you were back,” I say, flashing him what I hope is a wide, excited smile as I get up off the couch and make my way toward him.

“I’ve been back for a while,” he says, his eyes flitting to Natasha’s for a second. What he sees there upsets him and his hand wraps around my wrist immediately. He starts to lead me away as I sputter protests and turn to look at Natasha for help. She shrugs in response and turns back to her beer.

Bucky takes us all the way to our shared room where he hasn’t slept in the past weeks and locks the door behind us. He drops my hand and paces the length of the room with his hands clutching his hair in a white-knuckled grasp.

“Bucky, is everything-”

“How could you think I was breaking up with you?” he asks, turning to face me, his hands coming up to tightly grasp my shoulders.

“Y-You heard that?” I whisper, my gaze dropping to the floor.

“Super-soldier hearing. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but I heard you say that you thought I was gonna break up with you so I stopped to listen,” he says, his hand squeezing my shoulders.

“I-I didn’t know what to think. You’ve been so distant the past few weeks so I thought…” I trailed off, hoping he would understand.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he says, pulling me to sit on the bed next to him. His head leans forward to rest on my shoulder while his arm snakes around my waist and pulls me closer.

“Honey,” he says, his fingers playing with the hem of my t-shirt. “I’m not gonna break up with you.”

“Then why have you been acting so weird?” I ask, turning to face him, forcing him to look me in the eye.

“I fucked up on that mission,” he whispers, his gaze sullen, on the floor. “It was HYDRA and there were so many people. So many children. I couldn’t get them out. I couldn’t save them.”

Tears slide down his cheeks and pool on his lips. Before he could wipe them away, my fingers graze his cheek as I turn him to face me. I wipe away the tracks of tears and he leans forward to bury his face in my shoulder while wrapping his arms around my back.

“It’s ok baby. Let it out,” I say, rubbing circles on his back as his sobs intensify and soak my neck and shoulder. “You can’t save everyone Bucky. The important part is that you did your best.”

“But it wasn’t enough!” he shouts as his hands rake down my back and clench my t-shirt in between his fingers.

“I know it feels like that but you’re doing enough Bucky. You’ve been on missions non-stop, without any breaks and it’s enough,” I say, my hand drifting up to card through his hair as his sobs turn to sniffles and his breath comes out faster.

“It’s not enough, it’s not,” he begins to mumble under his breath as he begins to hyperventilate.

“Hey, hey,” I say, dragging his attention to me by guiding his face to mine. “You’re enough, you hear me? I love you and you’re enough. Your friends love you and you’re enough. That will never change. I promise you,” I say, my eyes blazing. My hands grip either of his cheeks and I see the sadness and self-doubt swirling in his eyes.

“I love you Bucky. So fucking much,” I continue, his breathing starting to even out.

“Really?” he asks, sniffling, his hands coming to grip my waist.

“Yes, I do,” I say, my voice unwavering.

“I-I love you too,” he says, his eyes and nose red from all the crying. “I know I don’t say it often but I do.”

“I know honey. I know,” I say, drawing him for another hug. I whisper sweet nothings in his ear and rock us back and forth with Bucky desperately clutching at my t-shirt and his head nuzzled in my chest.

After a while, he pulls away with a small smile on his face and I take comfort in the face that he feels better.

“Better?” I ask, cradling his wet cheek in my palm.

“Yeah,” he whispers, leaning forward and planting a sweet kiss on my lips. Suddenly, his arms wrap around my waist and pull me closer and his lips press more firmly into mine. I squeak in surprise but moan at the relief of finally feeling him so close after a while. He pulls away leaving us both panting for air and rests his forehead against mine.

“What was that for?” I ask with a breathy chuckle.

“It was a ‘I love you’,” he whispers, smiling at the blush that covers my cheeks.

“You’re such a cheeseball when you want to be,” I say, bringing my hands up to hide my red face.

“You love it,” he says, cheekily.

“Yeah,” I whisper, placing a kiss on the tip of his scrunched up nose. “I do.”

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[bored-storyteller]

Hello! Thank you for your request!

I also proceed here with a list of the highlights I can imagine if you don't mind

55- Tokyo Ghoul, Uta x human!Reader headcanon, what would he say to Renji about you? (referred to this)

-Even if Uta is not a particularly talkative person, he has never found it difficult to speak, or to find words. He is neither shy nor closed type, he simply has an apparently calm character.

This time, however, he felt the butterflies in his stomach torment him more than they should. They fluttered so much that he believed he wouldn't even be able to swallow the hot coffee the silver-haired ghoul had just offered him. He didn't seem aware of the discomfort his ambiguous friend was feeling - and it was good, it would have been serious if Uta had become an open book.

"I got together with someone." His voice had slipped calm and usual, but his blood eyes dared not touch the face of the man not far away, concentrating rather on the tattooed fingers around the white cup "They are human."

He immediately drank some coffee, as if those words spoken in warm blood to ward off fear as quickly as possible had left him empty.

And the silence on the part of the other did not improve the situation. All business had ceased and the absence of customers created a silence that unexpectedly Uta felt as deafening.

With caution, his pupils rested furtively on his friend's face in the hope of understanding his thoughts, and he realized that his gaze was returned.

This time, their looking at each other had been a moment of real tension for Uta, and he had to work hard not to take his eyes off those eyes so clear in comparison to those he used to exhibit.

After long moments of silence, the surprise and disbelief were revealed by a few, simple words: "And they know they are with you?"

Uta's shoulders had slumped, and although it seemed to be due to the shock caused by the reaction, in reality everything he had felt was an immense relief. No one had mentioned the fact of your humanity.

-The next time it was Renji himself who pulled you into their speeches, almost as if at the time he had not recorded the confession of his friend, and disbelief had struck him in the moments following their meeting.

"Do you really have a partner?" He had asked him how he was challenging the truth about him.

At that point Uta had just bowed his head to the side, trying to be at least disappointed: "Really." He had replied without too many words. Of course, in truth even he, thinking about it, found it hard to believe.

"Do you really have a sentient partner?" Renji had therefore continued with that deep and serious voice of his, which despite showing detachment at the bottom had a good goal to hit. Uta's reliability was quite limited, as was the soundness of his thoughts.

"I would never hurt them." The mask maker had avoided any subtle jokes that would fit his nature and made the point clear without fuss. He knew he shouldn't have felt offended, but a part of him couldn't help but get irritated, perhaps because his distrust made him doubt that one day you might have the same thoughts too.

"Besides, they also know what I am, if you were wondering." The raven-haired man had added then, in his normal tranquility.

Renji had looked at him and Uta had understood that yes, that was what he wanted to know.

"All right." He had limited himself to saying, returning to focus on his affairs.

- Talking about you with Renji had been more complex than Uta hoped. It was important that at least he knew of your existence, but at the same time he was in a sense awed by his judgment. He didn't want him to raise doubts that he didn't have.

Still, this time he happened to mention you so naturally, simply commenting that you would probably like the coffee he made. Even though he didn't have the faculties to understand human tastes, he did have the faculties to understand you.

"Why do you like them so much?" Renji asked such unexpected questions without breaking his firm attitude in the least, and Uta inside himself was amazed every time.

Uta had not immediately known how to answer. He could have said many things, but all of them were too little to describe what he really felt.

At one point he had simply just shrugged his shoulders: "They are true." He had only said, staring at his friend.

It seemed there was no need to add anything else, Renji was also true like you. All it took was a simple nod of approval from him, and all the fear that he had entwined the tattooed ghoul's muscles melted away.

"And then ... I find them extremely cute." He had therefore allowed himself to add nonchalantly, just to return to the relaxed atmosphere he was looking for, while he absently stared at the coffee shelves.

"So I wonder how they can be with a liar like you." The taller man had asserted, while he was cleaning a cup behind the counter.

Uta drank all his coffee in one gulp, so as to be free to throw a joking look at his friend.

"Well, I'm cuter than you anyway."

- Even before he met you Renji knew he'd like you. He now he knew almost everything about you; he knew about your interests, your commitments, what you liked to read and what movies you watched. You weren't always at the center of the conversation but it seemed that Uta somehow wanted to put him apart from what was happening to him, to you. You were a human, Renji would have done the same.

No, Uta has never spoken of you with adoration or with excessive sweetness, yet it was precisely from those words so casual and lightly spoken that one could deduce how much he cared about you. He was a broken man, Renji believed he had known him when he was already broken, probably he was, but with you it seemed that that aspect was not so dangerous. He was fine like that, he couldn't help but be grateful if you managed to make Uta happy, and that's why when you arrived, you frail little human, he would know perfectly well how you liked coffee.

[belpheroo]

Title: All Yours Pairing: Mammon x f!MC Rating: 🍋 Summary: Takes place during Lessons 21-22 during the “aphrodisiac syrup” incident. Took most of Mammon’s dialogue straight from the lessons at first. PWP/PWF because I missed my baby Mammoney.

“I love you so much, ya know?“ Mammon said, no hesitation, no stammering, “So I really missed you after you left. Like, how could I not? And I just want you so bad I can’t take it… “

He sighed, running a hand roughly through his hair, a blush dark on his already warm skin.

“I’m goin’ insane here! Man, this is killin’ me! It’s killin’ me, but… still, that’s all right.”

Mammon took another deep breath, finally breaking eye contact as he huffed, “I’ll just deal with it.”

She could hardly speak, still processing everything he so easily confessed. Despite the slight raggedness in his breathing and the way he kept his hands firmly set against his hips, clenched tight, Mammon seemed almost unaffected by the aphrodisiac properties of the syrup. Aside from his loose tongue, that is.

Satan, Beel, Belphie, Asmo… even Levi and Lucifer had struggled to control themselves and were freed by the compulsion by an order. But Mammon? He was so composed… it should have been a relief, but despite the sweetness of his words and the earnestness in his voice, she found herself wishing he was more overcome.

Now was the time to issue an order, to end the aphrodisiac… but instead she hummed thoughtfully.

“What if I don’t want you to deal with it?”

Those words would have once gotten an immediate response from Mammon, but instead he curiously flicked a glance back over at her, expression carefully neutral.

“Or… like, deal with it in a more fun way?”

“Human, ya really don’t wanna push on this. I can control myself, but I’m still a guy! It’s not nice to tease me like that…” Mammon grumbled, redness blossoming across his cheeks in new vibrant shades.

“I could lose it. Like, really. Really. Ya got it?”

“Mammon.” She cut him off, taking a few steps forward. Mammon hesitantly stepped slightly back.

“What if I want you to?” She phrased her words carefully, keeping them sounding like questions rather than suggestions or commands less she end the effect prematurely.

“Want what?” Mammon countered, running out of space to keep retreating as she urged forward, prepared to trap him between herself and his bedroom wall if she needed.

“… what if I want you to lose control? What if I want you to touch me? To show me how much you love me? How much you missed me?” Her eyes flashed, dangerous and scheming and insatiable as she ran her tongue out along her bottom lip for the barest moment.

Mammon barely managed to catch himself mid lurch, nearly moving off the wall to catch that lip in between his teeth.

“W…why would ya say that?! Mannn… ya just like seein’ me get flustered! Well it won’t work! I ain’t some baby demon, I’m the second eldest!”

“Even Lucifer wanted me so badly he could barely keep his hands off me before it wore off.”

“…he?! He touch ya?! Ya didn’t kiss him did you?!”

“No, I only want to kiss you.”

Mammon groaned, running his hand over his neck and up into his hair, dragging his fingers through it with a look of utter agony.

“You gotta stop… you can’t keep sayin’ that. You can’t keep teasin’ me, please I-“

“Mammon.”

He stopped, looking at her from the corner of his eye, lids half closed and a blush so hot and vivid on his cheeks she could see it even beneath his warm brown skin.

It took only a few steps to close the distance between them, Mammon taking several back until he was against the wall with no chance of escape. He twisted his hands into fists and pressed them down at his sides again, throat bobbing as he swallowed hard and strained. She wanted to catch it with her lips, to kiss him beneath his jaw and against his throat… but she settled for something small first, barely letting her lips brush the corner of his mouth.

The heat coming off his body was scorching, the intensity enhanced by the sudden grip of his hands around her arms as Mammon shoved her away.

Her name dragged out of him, a desperate, pleading moan.

“Mammon…” she was careful, any order, any at all would take away this moment, make him shut up in his thoughts again instead of acting on his feeling. She slid her own hands up his arms, feeling the coil of muscle and the heat of his skin.

“I’m not teasing.”

The hands at her arms left but in an instant they were cupped beneath her jaw, guiding her around and switching their positions so she was up against the wall. Mammon crowded her into the smooth cool surface before he settled his lips over hers. Needful. Greedy.

The firm planes of his body pressed along her, drawing her focus to her breasts, her thighs and oh god— he slipped his knee between her legs, pressing up against her center with practiced precision before he rolled his hips forward. He growled, low in his throat and all at once she felt as if the strength had gone out of her legs and heat pooled with sudden intensity in her core.

Her breath gasped out as they parted, giving her precious moments to take in air before he dragged his tongue across her bottom lip and then licked into her mouth. Mammon had moved back off enough that her hands were able to find their way beneath his t-shirt, the fabric bunching up on top of her forearms as she dragged her palms down the taunt skin of his stomach. She let her nails barely scratch him, feeling his sharp intake of breath as he sucked in and away from the touch for a moment and then all but melted against her as her hands slipped across his sides and stroked up his back.

“Too many clothes.” She said between mouthfuls of his kisses, the words sending Mammon scrambling to tug off his jacket. His attempts to take off his shirt were blocked several times by her own touches, a giggle falling from her lips and spurring Mammon to smile just as he finally managed to tug the shirt off and over his head.

Her own followed, but his hands came up behind her back before she could start making work of the bra and with one skillful snap of his index and middle finger, she felt the clasps pop open. A blush spread fiercely over her cheeks at his—deftness. Realizing despite his tendency to run hot and cold, he had done this before. Frequently. Often. The implications made her heart hammer in her chest and for once, it was Mammon who smirked.

She made a faint sound of surprise as he bent down enough to pick her up, arms under her thighs as he bore her against the wall. It made her just a bit taller than him, which was well enough to her as she ran her fingers through the back of his hair and tugged him into another kiss. Her legs secured around his waist, feeling keenly now where he was hard and tented against his pants, rubbing against her inner thigh with panted breaths between each kiss.

His lips trailed down her throat, pressing to the center of her breast and then against the soft swell. She tangled her hands in his hair as he sucked a pert nipple in his mouth, rolling his tongue against it over and over until she felt a shiver creep up her spine and shudder down to her core.

“Now, where should I go from here?” Mammon mumbled against her skin, giving the opposite breast the same attention until her legs trembled around his waist, struggling to keep herself up, “How about you tell me? What’s next…?”

Was he trying to entice her into giving him a command? He had give her nipple one last long lick before tilting his chin back to look up at her, blue eyes hazy but content, a dark flush deepening the color of his brown skin. No…Mammon was just— being Mammon. Eager to please and eager to keep touching her. And she was scarcely less eager to have him do just that.

“You have a bedroom…” she said, letting her hand come to rest against his cheek and stretching her thumb out to rub along his bottom lip. She hummed her approval when he opened his mouth and sucked the digit in. She withdrew her hand only to replace it with her lips, kissing him slower, more thoroughly, enticing the ember in his groin to flare up hotter until he was swiftly pulling her away from the wall and carrying her to the bed.

The red sheets were luxuriously soft against her bare back as Mammon bore her into the mattress. She relaxed her thighs slightly, but kept them pressed close to his hips all the same, stretching her arms above her head in a languid motion and arching her chest forward as Mammon kissed a trail from her jaw to the hollow of her hip.

Mammon found the hook and zipper of her skirt easily, undoing both before he slipped the fabric down and off, leaving her in nothing but her panties and knee highs. She rubbed her calf purposefully against his side, catching it on the hem of his jeans.

“Off.”

Mammon huffed, “Bossing The Mammon around? Fine… if you want me to so badly.”

“Yes.” She added, enjoying the way his blush had settled across his chest and neck. The sound of his belt buckle clicking sent a delicious pang of anticipation straight down to where she was already obscenely wet. She wondered if he could see it through her panties… most likely given how Mammon was taking the time to rake his gaze over ever inch of her, a strange expression passing over his face for a moment before he seemed to disregard whatever thought came into his head and work instead on getting his jeans and boxer-briefs off and out of the way.

He had absolutely nothing to be shy about.

She brought her hands to her hips, arching her bottom off the bed to pull down the dampened cotton, but Mammon’s hands stopped her. He took it upon himself to drag the fabric down over her thighs, admiring the curve of her legs and the way she wiggled impatiently as he finally slipped them off and over her ankles.

Mammon purposefully tossed them unto his jeans and she suddenly had a funny feeling that meant she wouldn’t be getting them back.

Mammon’s palms ran up along the length of her thighs, settling on her knees as he gently cupped his hands beneath them and slid her, smooth as silk over his sheets and towards him.

“…is this okay? Do… do you want this?”

With a faint smile, she canted her hips upwards, feeling the hot, iron-silk of his shaft against her core as she trapped him between his own stomach and her heat, rubbing against him with slow, intent motions.

Mammon made a sound like the air had been punched from him. She drew back just enough for him to use his thumb to press the tip of his head against her and then, gently she pushed forward again.

She went slowly. Enjoying the way her body stretched and fluttered around him, making space for him inside her. Mammon didn’t move, his eyes fixed, half lidded and dream like at where he was disappearing inside her. A tiny sound choked from his throat and his eyes fluttered shut when she seated him in fully, feeling a slight ache deep within her when his head pressed up against her cervex. She held there only for a moment before letting her hips draw back a ways, coaxing him with the tiniest roll of her hips.

Mammon moved then, shallow and deep and taking care not to press in too deep. The ridge of his head rubbed against a sweet spot every so often at this depth, making her clench involuntarily around him. His pelvis would press against her clit with each forward thrust, eliciting a content moan from her when he would hold there and grind against her.

Mammon cursed under his breath, leaning down into her waiting arms and capturing her lips in another kiss.

“It... it feels so fuckin’ good. You... “

His words cut off with a whimpered cry as she set her teeth deliberately into the long muscle of his neck, sucking there until his hips sputtered and his thrusts became faster for a moment. She gasped at the ache he had seared through her, worrying the skin with her tongue before placing kisses deep enough to bruise along his throat.

She dug her nails into his back and scratched down, the sound Mammon made as he arched against her touch deliciously obscene.

Mammon fisted his hand into the back of her hair, clinging for dear life as he slowed his moments and tried to even his breathing.

“…’most lost it…” he huffed after a moment, a sigh of relief turning into a groan as she bucked up beneath him.

“More,” She said, voice low and as dark as the pupils, blown-wide in her eyes, “Mammon, fuck me more.”

“And they call me a demon.” Mammon huffed, but he had begun to move again, the steady pull of his shaft along her walls making her tremble beneath him. Mammon smirked at that, easing his hand down between them and trailing his fingers over himself and her, touching where they were joined and bringing some of that wetness to swirl in leisurely circles around her bud.

His hand moved away, a protest in the back of her throat as he set his hands upon her hips and held her tightly, folding her upwards and keeping her firmly there.

He thrusted down sharply, the movement jolting through her and nearly slipping her away from him on the smoothness of the bed. She braced a hand back behind herself, gripping the sheets to try and keep still as he did it again.

She cried out then, startled at first until the sound melted into a whimper, mixing with the slap of his hips into hers once more as he kept up the unforgiving and unbearably deliberate pace.

Mammon’s breaths were coming as quick as gasps as gradually he quickened, the bruising impact of his hips mixing into the sweet bursts of pleasure each connection sent against her clit. So deeply seated in her, she could feel his head once again rubbing at the tender spot at the topmost part of her inner walls, barely able to contain her instinctive need to bare down on his shaft and hold him fast and tight.

His thrusts were growing shorter, faster, less forceful but no less intense as a prickling feeling began to grow in her core and spread out in tiny bursts, each stronger than the last until finally she felt them reach their utmost peak. The contractions of her orgasm were as tight as a fist and she could hear and see when she came as much as she felt it by Mammon’s reaction alone. His lips had fallen open, astounded with pleasure as he rode out each spasm, a ragged cry breaking from his throat. She felt his cock jump inside her, pulsing fiercely as he fell forward and buried his face into her neck, hands sliding up to hold her tightly to his chest as he shuddered and fell apart in her arms.

The come down was no less pleasant, her body still clutching at him, but in less frequent, softer bursts. She took the time to catch her breath, but found Mammon had not made to move, keeping her in a vice grip as he rubbed his lips back and forth against her neck.

He was trembling.

Affection burst through her chest, warming her like sunbeams through soft clouds as she did her best to soothe him. She ran her hands up and down his back, turning her cheek against his soft white hair.

“That was so good,” She whispered, “I missed you so much… you mean so much.”

The weight of him was pleasant, warming her down to her very heart. Mammon shifted a bit, leaning unto his side as he propped up on his arm to look down at her.

He looked so… vulnerable. Brittle. Like she had the power in that moment to utterly shatter him. She lifted up a hand to touch his cheek and he leaned into the touch, eyes closing.

“I love you.”

Mammon didn’t open his eyes, brow furrowing tightly. She was not having that.

“Look at me.”

He did.

“Mammon, I love you too. And I missed you and I want you all the time too and—“

“You’re killin’ me.” Mammon said making her freeze—but in the next breath he leaned down and caught her lips in a kiss filled with desperation and sheer adoration.

“I’m tryin’ to work up the courage to tell ya I love you so much right now I feel like my heart is gonna goddamn bust and you go and say all these… these nice things.”

“Not the only thing that busted.” She said, waggling an eyebrow until Mammon groaned.

“You deserve to be told nice things, Mammon. And often.”

He mumbled a non-reply, shyly enclosing her hand with his own and pressing a kiss to her palm.

“Might… take awhile. For me to get used to it.”

“That’s okay,” She said quietly, curling closer against him, “We have plenty of time now, yeah?”

That got a smile, pressed gently to her knuckles before Mammon released her hand to wrap his arms around her.

“All for myself?” He said, his touch becoming more certain— possessive.

“All yours,” she leaned forward to press a kiss to his nose, making Mammon pout and narrow his eyes briefly.

“Oh! You still need me to give you an order!”

“Um… about that. You already kinda did?” Mammon trailed off, fingers tangling in her hair gently.

“Wha— hey I was really careful! When did I give an order?!”

Mammon licked his bottom lip, a sly grin spreading over his features as he held to the back of her neck and whispered lowly, “‘Mammon, fuck me more.’”

There was a beat of silence as she blinked at him, cheeks growing rosy before she smiled in turn.

“Well?”

“Well what, human?”

The soft smile turned into a grin that Mammon, confident in her feelings, returned.

It was going to be a late night.

[kaepop-trash]

Going for one of those touchless car wash drive thrus and betting with johnny who can make the other cum faster 🙈

I’m hitting that area again where I hate everything I write. But my new year’s resolution was to not be stagnated by my need for perfection. So I am posting this. I hope you like it.

-

"Between this ice cream and my coffee," She snorted, the melting ice cream making her gurgle. "I'm going to be so jittery by the time we get home." She lifted her head to stop any ice cream from coming out of her mouth while she spoke.

Johnny laughed, resisting the urge to turn to look at her while he took a turn at an intersection. "Why did you get both?" He questioned. There was a pause, and the slowly moving traffic gave him the opportunity to turn to look at her. Ice cream on one corner of the mouth, she stared out of the windshield with deep contemplation.

"You know." She turned to look at Johnny, "I'm not so sure." She confessed.

Johnny bit back a smile.

"I just." She clicked her tongue, "The sign outside the ice cream store said labour weekend cherry, blueberry ice cream and you know how much I love cherries." Johnny gave her a nod that made her grin.

"But then you also got the piping hot coffee from the store beside it that is now getting cold." He looked towards the untouched cup that sat beside his half finished one in the cup holder.

She stared at the cup for a second, grinding her teeth. Then she shook her head, "It's fine." She reassured with an affirmative nod, taking a spoonful of her ice cream. "I can indulge in both." She mumbled with the spoon in her mouth. “If the coffee gets a little cold, it is what it is.” She shrugged.

Johnny gave her a soft chuckle, warmth spreading in his chest from the content smile on her face.

When they stopped at another light, a touch of cold against his lips made Johnny push back with a jerk. He turned to find her sticking her ice cream spoon close to his lips.

"Have some." She offered. She stuck the spoon closer, the cold ice cream rubbing off on his lip. She bit back a smile.

He parted his lips and licked the little bit off his lip before wrapping them around the spoon. When her exhale came out sharper than either of them anticipated, he turned to lock his eyes with her, smirking against the spoon. She dragged the spoon out, his bottom lip tugging against it.

"It's nice." Johnny mumbled. “I’ll just get the car washed and we’ll go home okay?” Johnny asked when he remembered the task he had set for today.

She turned back to her cup and hummed, the sound voicing her distraction clearly. Johnny grinned to himself.

"Another spoon?" She questioned and Johnny hummed, not looking away from the road. 

"Last one though." He tilted his head towards her a little as she reached out with a spoonful of ice cream. "We have to go to that office barbecue tonight and I don't want to get too comfortable. Once this long weekend is over, it's back to the gym." He sighed, taking a bite of the ice cream and humming pleasantly.

She chuckled, "It's good right?" Johnny nodded, a grin forming on his lips. "Don't worry about exercising now.” She groaned, “I'm the only one who sees you naked anyway." She scoffed, "I hope." She added the jab.

Johnny grinned at the road, "There's also the physician who does my annual physical. Need to keep her impressed." He teased. They finally drove into the carwash after making their way through the holiday traffic.

"Why? Did your firm stop giving you healthcare?" She raised a brow. 

Johnny laughed with raw delight, his eyes turning into upturned commas. "You know I always aim to please." He turned to her and winked. 

She scoffed with disbelief, "Where was this attitude when Haechan stayed over a few weeks back and you literally wouldn't let him sleep." She clicked her tongue.

Johnny opened his mouth in shock, trying to hold back a smile. "You're the one who can't keep quiet!" He protested. “I pleased you just fine.” He reminded her, "The poor guy had to go live with Mark because of just how pleased you were. Something Mark wasn't happy about I assure you." He said the words like he was talking about the weather, with conversational ease.

She gasped loudly, "I am not loud! You knew exactly what you were doing, Johnny Suh.” Johnny laughed as if to confirm her accusations.

“I don’t know what you mean.” He shrugged, reaching for his cup.

“No?” She narrowed her eyes. “Am I not with a man who enjoys being a whore with the possibility of spectators?” 

Johnny choked on his coffee, making her laugh. She also reached out to rub his back, with a wince and a mumbled apology when he kept coughing. He gave her a look that was somewhere between humour and defeat.

“Are you okay?” She tried to swallow her giggles unsuccessfully. “You know I’m right.” She added with a softer voice.

Johnny took a deep breath after his coughs subsided, letting out a short laugh. “You’re going to kill me, (Y/N).” He smiled, resting his head against his seat. 

The car in front of theirs finally moved inside for its wash to begin.

“I can’t believe you called me a whore.” Johnny chuckled.

“I believe you’ve called me worse.” She reminded him.

Johnny shrugged, “That’s fair. And I guess I am your whore, so it’s not untrue.” He smirked.

She hummed, “Good boy.” The look he gave her made her curl her lips and her toes together.

She turned away from his sudden charged gaze, “This is going to take forever, Johnny. I want to go home and take a nap.” She whined.

“Your nap can wait.” He responded, his brows creasing when he realised something, “You woke up at noon, why do you want a nap?” He sat back in his seat and raised a brow at her.

“Do I?” She rubbed her cheeks against palm.

She shrugged, finally finishing her ice cream and reaching for her coffee. “Why not?” She made a face at the cup, the now room temperature coffee tasting borderline unpleasant. “Your office parties always go on too long and your boss always refuses to let you leave. I’m using this week to catch up on sleep so don’t question it.” She grumbled, a soft pout forming on her face. She stretched in her seat like the conversation reminded her that she was tired, yawning softly. The action illiciting affection in him.

Johnny gave her a tender stare, “We always leave any social gathering the moment your battery runs out.” He reminded her, reaching out to stroke her hair. “You even have a signal.” He smiled when she nuzzled into his touch.

Johnny hummed and nodded, “You tug on my sleeve and sit against me.” He laughed softly, remembering all the times it happened. “It’s very cute.”

She gave him a cheeky grin, “I am adorable, yes.” 

Johnny laughed. When their car finally moved towards the wash she let out a sigh of relief.

“I’m hungry.” She mumbled, reaching up to tug at his fingers and play with them mindlessly as she turned to frown at the slowly proceeding queue.

“You’re a lot of things today, it seems.” Johnny pestered.

She turned to him with another pout, “Don’t sass me.” She scolded him with a finger pointed at his chest. She let go of his hand, making him pout this time from disappointment. She sat up in her seat with new-found energy, “You know that fish we had last month? With lemon preserve I think?” Johnny nodded, remembering the anniversary dinner well, every part of it. “I’m craving it so bad!” She whined again. 

Johnny bit his lips as the spray of soap covered the car in spuds.

“I’ll make you a deal.” He whispered slowly, the low rumble of his voice making heat pool in her stomach— a conditioned response.

“What?” Her voice dropped in its volume too, turning to his indulgent smirk.

“Come here.” He spread his legs wider on the seat.

She groaned, the sound one of defeat. Sitting up, she gingerly moved across to do what he asked. “Whore.” She mumbled.

“Johnny.” She wanted her voice to sound like a warning, but the breathless hush that came out instead did everything but mediate the tension building in the car. 

It was truly hard to resist him.

Johnny hummed, “The one who cums first buys lunch alright? If you win we can get the fish. If I win, I'm craving a good burger.” She nodded, eyes fluttering shut as he ran his fingers through his hair. “We have to be fast though, princess.” A soft laugh left him as she nodded dutifully, reaching out to undo his pants. “They might ban me from getting my car washed here if we get caught and the other place ruined the car’s paint the one time I went there.” Johnny’s head fell back when she grabbed his shaft, a groan dissolving the last of his words.

“Stop talking about your car.” She huffed, “I thought you were in a hurry.” She tilted his head back with her other hand in his hair, reaching down to kiss his jaw.

“Take off your shorts.” He tugged on the band with a finger.

She smiled against his neck, “This is a competition, baby.” She cooed. “What makes you think I’m going to make this easier for you? Work with what you have, Johnny.”

“Such a wretched girl,” Johnny huffed. “Fine.” Johnny groaned, dragging his finger to the buttons of her shorts and flicking it open, “I’m perfectly capable of doing this with a hand.” It was a challenge, his eyes oozed it as he kept them focused on her eyes and put two fingers into his mouth. He licked them with precision, the other on her back pulled her closer. 

She bit down on her lip, clenching around nothing. “I would have done that for you.” She licked her lips. Johnny smiled, popping the fingers out of his mouth.

He was, without a shadow of a doubt, right about his single hand being very capable; but she wasn’t in the mood to lose. She gripped him tight and Johnny winced, bucking up from the seat. In retaliation, Johnny took the liberty of plunging two fingers deep inside her. Her legs twitched, a loud groan leaving her lips. She increased her pace immediately, the car filling with sounds that made her blush.

“Shit.” Johnny breathed out. “Look at how you’re clenching around me, (Y/N). Reminds me of the first time I fucked you with my fingers.” He hummed against her forehead. She mewled at the memory, clenching tighter around his fingers. “I was already whipped for you then.” He sighed when she rubbed circles on his tip.

“Fuck.” She breathed out, his words seemingly more effective than his masterful fingers. She did remember that time, almost too well. The memory of the humid car and the tropical heat making her hips buck. Johnny let out a victorious chuckle.

She bit down on his ear, making him twitch in her hand as she expected. “Come one, Johnny.” She urged with a delicate whisper, “Don’t hold back.” She winced when he curled his fingers inside her as punishment for her coaxing. She kept up her persistence anyway, “You’re the one who loves this don’t you? Knowing someone can catch us like this any moment.” She poked her tongue out, leaving a kitten lick on the shell of his ear. Johnny groaned in response, the sound vibrating in her chest and making her certain that she would either lose the bet or go insane trying to win.

“Yes.” Johnny confessed. She shivered at the ease he did it with.

“What is it about it?” She questioned. The car moved forward to get washed down— the last step of the process. The sudden jerk forward made her chest slam into his. His fingers pushed further in at the jerk, making her moan loudly.

She took a deep breath, “Do you want people to watch? Want them to see what you do to me?” She hummed, the words forced through her teeth.

Johnny put his head against the seat, a sigh leaving his lips. Moment’s later she felt his release coat her fingers, looking down with a victorious smile.

“If you cum now, I’ll let you fuck me tonight."

"Shit." Johnny groaned at her words.

"Surely make a party with finance people more fun, huh?” She giggled. She was pumping him so fast now that his own fingers faltered inside her, something she would have complained about if she wasn’t so focused on winning the bet this time.

“That was cheating.” He groaned, she looked back up at his devastatingly handsome face, laced in the aftermath of her work. He took shallow breaths, lips parted and one eye looking at her.

“That was negotiating.” She leaned forward to peck his lips, pulling back to take in the fucked out look on his face. He pulled his fingers out with a wet pop, a soft mewl leaving her lips from the sudden emptiness.

“You don’t deserve to cum for being conniving.” He was still panting, pulling her closer to kiss her. She whined against his lips at the punishment, smacking his chest when she pushed back. “We’re also out of time.” He whispered against her lips. On cue the loud buzz sounded, signalling the end of the wash.

“Fine.” She sighed, pulling off his body and sitting back on the passenger’s seat. She turned to look at him, making sure his eyes were on her, then she licked her fingers clean of his release with lazy precision.

“Fuck.” The word stuttered out of his lips as he tucked himself back into his jeans.

“I told you I was hungry.” She hummed against her fingers.

“You’re making it real tough to think about lunch when you do that.” He mumbled.

“Good.” She gave him an innocent smile, “Let’s go, we’re done.” She pointed at the now visible street at the end of the wash. “I earned that fish.”

-

Send me an ask about a character from one of my fics in a scenario and I'll write a drabble.

Character from: Unintended Consequences

[nanengko]

𝙅𝙐𝙎𝙏 𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙎 𝙒𝙄𝙇𝙇 𝘿𝙊 —

iwaizumi x f!reader

notes: one-shot about iwa taking care of his touch-starved s/o in a way he knows best

genre: smut; fluff

content: iwaizumi hajime; f!reader; post time-skip; female masturbation; sugar-coated degradation; size kink; orgasm denial; praise; creampie; established relationship

words: 1.8k+

Times are busier, and finding the opportunities for intimacy grows more difficult by the day— schedules never seeming to match-up or other plans always interfering. Those quick morning kisses and rushed hugs goodbye that you wish could last a little longer has you starving for Iwaizumi’s touch and attention. You understand the amount of time he needs to commit to his job and you respect that, but god do you miss him.

Taking matters into your own hands doesn't seem to do the trick anymore, especially when you've already been spoiled by him—fingers can't quite reach or stretch you out the way his so effortlessly do. Remembering the way his precise tongue works through you so good, and the way his cock can turn you into a fucked-out mess has you lost in your filthy sweet thoughts.

He doesn't even need to try, his touch always seems to put you at his mercy—so receptive, so willing, so ready to receive what he has to give.

You let your imagination run wild, thoughts filling with your Hajime—the way his rough hands feel squeezing at your supple flesh and the way you would melt when he places open-mouthed kisses along your neck. For now, just this will do, you repeatedly tell yourself this despite your growing need.

You lay yourself face-down on his side of the bed, burying your face into his pillow with a soft inhale. An intoxicating scent that’s all him further fuelling your imagination, and causing a soft whine to leave your parted lips.

Your thoughts continue to wander, raw and untamed. You can’t help but slide a hand down and past the waistband of your underwear before discarding them onto the floor, folds already slick as you begin to slide a tentative finger through.

You push two lithe fingers inside, earning yourself a sharp intake of breath—good, but not good enough. Pretending he’s here with you and that it's his expert fingers instead of yours—just this will do. You continue at a lazy pace, more so enjoying the works of your imagination than the workings of your fingers, it wasn’t his after all.

“Seems like you’re busy.” You hear his gruff voice coming from somewhere behind you and you’re abruptly pulled away from your thoughts.

He was somehow able to sneak behind, you being too occupied to even hear him come through the front door. Oh, but what a sight to be greeted with—on all fours, ass propped up with fingers buried deep inside. He can’t help but watch for a few moments, frozen in place, pants tightening at the image presented to him; it’s been way too long.

“H-Hajime?” Surprise mixed with some embarrassment seeping into your voice.

Fingers are pulled out and you scramble to sit upright, immediately clamping your legs shut, and using your arms to wrap around your knees. You don’t know why you’re acting as if he’s never seen you like this before. He’s seen all of you, and in positions more embarrassing than this.

You stare wide-eyed at him and he looks back, hooded eyes freely roaming over your naked lower half. “Work was cut short, so I’m here.” Iwaizumi says quietly as he walks over towards you, stopping at the foot of the bed.

Your arms drop from around your legs and you relax. You flash a soft smile, embarrassment disappearing, and once again replaced with the need and desperation from earlier.

He places one knee onto the bed, the mattress dipping underneath his weight when he leans over you. Strong hands find their way to your knees, pushing them apart. He takes two fingers and drags them between your glistening folds before holding them up, rubbing his fingers together, and inspecting closely as your slick webs when he pulls them apart. Your body jerks at the contact and you’d be lying if you said you didn't love how his hand looked right now.

“Is this what happens when I don’t get to touch you? Craving for some of my attention now, aren’t we?” He gestures to his fingers while looking down at you and smirking.

"Uh—I—," you're at a loss for words, so enamoured by him. The only thing on your mind is how good he looks looming over, large body and handsome features, and with you coated all over his fingers.

"Hm? What was that?" His head tilts, amusement clearly written all over his face.

You want him to touch you, you want him to at least do something. A whispered "please" falls through your lips and you take his hand and guide it back to where you want him most. His features soften momentarily, and he watches your pleading eyes. How can he ever say no to that?

He lets out a defeated sigh, "Alright, pretty girl."

Iwaizumi settles in behind, and you crawl into place between his legs. He pulls you in close before sliding his hands behind your thighs, pulling them wide. Leaning back onto his hard chest and caged between his strong biceps has you so enticed. You relax against his touch, finally he was here and so close to giving what you’ve waited so long for.

He takes his time as he caresses at your thighs, squeezing firmly as he makes his way down, feather light tingles shooting straight to your cunt. He doesn’t stop until thick fingertips brush against your outer lips. You let a whimper escape, your own hands gripping at his muscled thighs and holding tight.

“Someone’s a needy little slut.” He tells you this as he spreads you apart with two fingers on either side; a quiet squelch softly fills the room.

Despite his harsh words and gruff demeanor, the slight shake in his voice and the sudden hitch in his breath lets you know that he's missed this too. His cock pressing heavily through his pants and onto your back is also more than enough proof of that.

You let a moan escape as you feel him press two fingers against your clenching hole, applying enough pressure to have him sink in all the way.

This is what you've been waiting for—for him to take care of you just like this. You let your head roll to the side as he slowly starts to finger-fuck you, taking his sweet time pressing against your walls in a way only he knows best.

Quiet whimpers fill the room and you let out a long breath, "Missed you so so much."

He lets out a low chuckle and the feeling of his chest vibrating against your back has you pressing further against him. 

“I don’t touch you for a bit and you turn into such a cock-hungry whore.” He emphasizes his point by circling your clit with an index finger, the pace of his other hand quickening into you.

A soft kiss is placed to the top of your head as a means of softening the blow of his earlier words. Despite that, it was very true, you’re hungry—no, you’re starving.

You feel yourself clenching down hard. Just a little bit more and he would give you what you’ve been wishing for. The way his fingers are perfectly curling into you has you rolling your eyes back, desperately moaning and begging to make you cum.

You feel yourself tipping at the edge, “So close, so close.” You chant out quietly, that tantalizing feeling—so warm and so inviting.

You’re suddenly met with emptiness as he pulls his fingers out of you, a string of your arousal following and dropping against your thigh; you’re clenching down, beckoning to be filled. Eyes shoot open and you turn and stare up at him.

“What’s with that face? The only thing you’re gonna be screaming on today is my cock.” 

He shifts behind you to stand up off the bed, the familiar clang of metal from the unfastening of his belt ringing throughout the room, breaking you free from your daze and signalling you to remove your sweatshirt. You carelessly throw it onto the floor to join the rest of the pile.

He’s back, and hovering over you, your legs instantly wrapping around his waist when he starts to line his dripping cock-head at your entrance.

He lets out a hiss and rubs his swollen tip at your greedy hole before pushing himself in, “S-shit.”

“A-ah!” His size causing the initial burn as you feel him all the way inside, burying himself into you at the hilt.

He leaves himself there for a short moment, paying mind to your comfort, and begins to set a slow pace, savouring all that you are and all that he’s missed.

Through a half-lidded gaze, you look up at him, admiring him as he works his way into you over and over; brows furrowed, eyes dark, breathless groans coming through slightly parted lips, tense muscles, and a small bead of sweat gathering at his temple. 

Your hands grip at his biceps as he comes down to meet your lips with his, an unspoken apology for the attention he has been unable to give; you readily accept, drowning in the bliss.

Foreheads pressing together, you feel him adjust and pick up the pace, your grip on him tightens, fingertips digging into the firm muscle. He’s doing it so perfectly, just like always, but with a tinge of desperation that you completely understand.

He’s going harder and faster, trying to chase what’s long overdue, and with all the intention to bring the both of you up together. Both his hands move to cradle your head into his hands, carefully gazing down and whispering sweet words of praise and adoration.

“I’ve waited so long to feel you and see you so pretty like this, but I’m here now, I’m here.” His words are so loving and soft. Times of vulnerability like this are rare for him, so you cherish every last bit that you can.

You feel the warm steady build from deep within and you can tell by slight stutter in his hips that he's close too. You’re panting out and all you need is just a little push.

A single thrust is all it takes and his mouth is on yours, turning your screams into muffled moans. Your own high and fluttering walls coaxing him into his own, emptying himself into you.

Both breathless and tired, yet satisfied and feeling so alive. He collapses on top of you, still buried inside with cum leaking out and down your thighs. 

“Missed you, missed this.” He rolls over, cock slipping out, and he pulls you closer to him.

You nuzzle into his warmth, paying no mind to the stickiness of your bodies or the mess between your legs because he's here now and that’s all that matters. Laying with each other in the most intimate way as he runs strong hands over your skin, soothing you into his touch and conveying the unspoken words of his affection—just this will do.

if you enjoyed, a like/reblog is appreciated !

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