#him and i blurb

[mikkomacko]

Reader x mob!boss Nico (also sorry if that's wrong, this is my first request for the series) but something angst smut maybe after Nico comes from the gym?

A/n: This has been in my inbox for literally months I am so sorry it took me so long to write this omg 🫶 but for those of you worried I ignored your blurb requests, they’re probably just in my drafts still lmao

I changed this up a bit but I hope you still love it!

Warnings: smut, jealous Nico, angry Nico

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Nico doesn’t have exes. He’s got old hook-ups and one night stands, girls that clearly come to the Rock looking for him. They’ve all heard about how hot the Devils boss is, as well as the Devils themselves.

It never bothered you.

Nico never had anything with them, at least nothing real, so you never thought you’d have to worry about jealousy between you and Nico. At least nothing beyond the light hearted pouting he does when you’re with Johnny or the way you attach yourself to his hip when girls are obviously flirting with him.

Until an old face made an appearance at the Rock.

You blame Jack for it, honestly. It was harmless, Tyson was harmless other than Nico recognizing the name as soon as you stumbled upon your old boyfriend at the bar. It was one of the first personal stories Nico ever heard about you. Your high school boyfriend, your first love, your first heartbreak. You dated him for a while, fell in love, decided to celebrate your year anniversary together by finally doing it. The universal act of love, the infamous first time from every rom-com.

Except there was nothing romantic or comedic about it at all. It was below average sex, the build up lasted longer than the act itself, and you felt so empty, so disappointed afterwards that you had burst into tears as soon as Tyson was off of you. He panicked, got dressed and basically ran out the door saying he'd check on you later. Later came the next day when he broke up with you, saying you were too much for him and should be with someone who could handle you.

Nico hated Tyson enough as is just for that story. And then he hated him even more when he strolled up to you at the bar and acted like old friends, chatting with you even as you tried to keep conversation quick. You know Nico would've scared Tyson off in a matter of seconds, but you wanted to be civil, so you let him hang with his arm around your shoulders, sipping his beer with a brooding look as Tyson babbled about his life to you.

And you were just about to excuse yourself when Jack ambled up to Nico and asked, "who's the douche?" Which just egged on your boyfriend, his temper already flaring and he shot Tyson a dirty look.

"Her ex."

"Ouch," Jack winced, then patted Nico on the shoulder and leaned into his ear. "She has a type, I'll tell you that."

It was just loud enough for you to hear, turning to Jack with a glare and to hopefully placate Nico but it was all for nothing. He was already angry, already boiling over with a jealousy you've never seen. Denying Jack's statement was only going to make it worse, even though the stupid boy was fucking with Nico. The only thing Nico and Tyson had in common was their dark eyes, and even then Nico's are far darker, hold more depth, are more beautiful.

"Sorry Tyler," Nico spits, not even attempting to be polite or genuine in his 'mishap" on the name. "We've gotta go."

Nico's dragging you away after that, hand on the back of your neck and even though he's jerky and rough as he guides you around the bar and down the hall, his hold isn't mean or hurting. Just demanding.

Swiftly, Nico shoves you through the door into the office, kicking it shut behind him and flicking the lock. You weren't going to say anything, knowing words right now would do nothing for Nico. He accepts and expresses love through physical acts. You two are working on the words thing, but when he's upset like this, it's best to stick what's fool proof.

His hands grab at your face, cupping your jaw and dragging you forward, smashing his lips to yours in a fierce, biting kiss. And you just let him, holding the sides of his neck in your careful hands, easily letting him lead you further into the office until your thighs hit the desk. They’ve barely touched the hardwood before he’s grabbing at your thighs, hefting you onto the desk with effortless strength.

You know Nico is strong, have seen him in the gym, have seen him moving boxes and furniture, have seen him fighting. And you’ve felt it firsthand. Yet every time it takes your breath away, reminds of you that you’re with a man now, not some silly boy like Tyson and all the other average Joes before Nico.

It sends a wave of heat down your spine and straight to your core, arousal pooling in your belly and suddenly it’s like you’re so fucking empty and useless, like you’re life’s mission is to get Nico as deep into your pussy as he could possibly get. How you ever lived without him between your thighs, you don’t know.

“Nico,” you whisper, pleadingly, whimpering when he bites your lip in retaliation. His eyes are dark and demanding when he looks at you, bordering on anger but you know him better.

He just wants your attention. He wants you.

“Don’t talk to me,” he scolds, then almost dismissively he grabs at the bottom of your shirt and starts to haul it up and over your head. “Not after you made me stand there with that fucking hodensniterin and play nice.”

Knowing better, knowing you’ll get him the way you want if you sit there and let him go about his way, you comply as he throws your shirt to the floor, already working his over his head.

You don’t even realize you’ve moved until Nico is staring down at you, an unimpressed look in his eyes. “Now you want me?” He goads, wrapping a hand around your wrist and stopping you from trailing your fingers any further over his abdomen. “You want to touch me?”

You’re nodding along before he’s even finished speaking, brain already going fuzzy from how needy you feel. It’s like all your brain can think about is him, all you can see is him, all you want is him. His name forms on your tongue again and you have to bite the inside of your cheek, forcing your mouth to stay shut.

Meanly, he laughs, yanking you up to your feet by the wrist. Like a rag doll you go with him, flung and maneuvered around so swiftly it catches you off guard when your elbows hit the desk, cushioned by something. Blinking a few times, you look down and realize Nico has thrown his shirt over the hardwood, bunched up as padding under you.

It’s such a sweet thing for him to do, not unexpected of him even when he’s like this, but it still makes your body flush with heat.

“Too fucking bad,” he continues, “I’m doing the touching. Not you.”

Like it’s instinct, you arch back into Nico when you feel the heat of his body get close to you. He chuckles lowly, barely skimming the palm of his hand over your ass but flinching away when you press back into him.

Tears of frustration sting at your eyes, desperation burning in your skin. If he’d just let you talk, let you tell him how badly you want him, how much you need him inside of you right now it’d be fine. But he’s in a mood and already told you not to talk to him.

His fingers hook into the band of your skirt and underwear, the pads of them rough and warm as they drag across your skin. In one pull he's yanking both over the globes of your ass and down your thighs, leaving them bunched up around your ankles.

The air is cold on your newly exposed skin, raises goosebumps on your skin and you shiver, squeezing your thighs together to preserve some heat in your burning core, and subtly relive some of the throbbing in your clit. Nico reacts before you can even let out a hum of satisfaction, wedging a hand between your thighs and smacking them back open.

"Spread them," he demands, shoving his foot between yours now for insurance. You groan, hiding your face in your arms and biting into the meat of your forearm to silence yourself. Apparently that's the wrong move too though because Nico bumps his knee into the back of yours. "Nuh-uh, hands now."

Begrudgingly, you slip your arms around to your back, pressing your wrists together. Chest and cheek flat on the desk, the new position pulls at the stretched muscles of your legs, the ache just enough to make you throb even more.

His left hand gathers yours in one, long fingers holding them together by the wrist, and he presses down into the small of your back. You whimper, more out of embarrassment and neediness than pain but Nico sills for a moment, his right hand stroking over your ass gently.

"You ok?" He checks, voice a quiet murmur and you take a mental check of your body. It's a little degrading being thrown and bent over his desk like this, ass up for him to do as he pleases, but it stings in the best way possible. You trust Nico, know that even when he's got you exposed and vulnerable like this he would never go too far, even though he could.

It's exhilerating.

"Tell me baby," Nico encourages, settling his hand on the seam of skin where your thigh meets the bottom of your ass.

"I'm ok," you say, closing your eyes and breathing in the cologne on his shirt, the rich scent of him. It's soothing and you quickly amend, "I'm perfect, Schao."

You can picture the pleased smile on his face, the dimple it carves into his cheek.

"Good girl," he purrs, dragging his thumb through your folds. The sudden touch sends a shock wave through you, hips canting and rising to your toes to give him better access to your swollen and desperate clit.

"S'this all you needed to be nice to me again?" Nico skips over where you want him the most, going back to thumbing at your hole teasingly. "To pay attention to me instead of that cock-sucker out there?"

You're not sure if your allowed to talk again, so you bite your tongue, sucking in quivering breathes of air through your nose to stay grounded. I was just being polite, you want to say, to defend yourself. I hate him and I love you Nico.

Torturously slow, Nico dips his thumb between your folds, sinking into just the knuckle and you hold your breathe, scared that any sudden movement will spook him into stopping.

He pumps his thumb in shallow movements, careful and calculated. It's not everything you want from him but it's something, a content breath puffing out of your nose.

"Thinks he knows you," Nico mutters, more to himself than you. He pulls back, his thumb suddenly disappearing and you whine, pussy clenching down on nothing. Thankfully, Nico doesn't care about the bratty noise enough to scold you. He silences you with two thick fingers, shoving them into you up so abruptly you flinch, digging your cheek further into his shirt.

"He doesn't," Nico says, louder this time like he's trying to remind you. It goes in one ear and out the other, your mind to preoccupied with the feeling of his fingers pumping in and out of you. He pets at the sensitive sponge part of you, curling his fingers to hit it dead on and your knees shake.

"He doesn't know how to bend you over like this, how to take you apart like I do, does he?"

Your fingers clench into fists, stomach clenching and every push of Nico's finger stretching you pushes you closer and closer to your orgasm. His hand on your wrists tightens, holding you in place and then his fucking his fingers into you faster. Your orgasm crashes over you, white stars bursting behind closed eyes.

He's still talking to himself, muttering stuff under his breath and stroking you through your high. Your thighs quiver and shake, the insides of them damp with it and your knees fully give out, leaving you a heap on the desk. The pounding in your ears must have blocked out the sound of Nico's zipper and the drop of his jeans, because your caught of guard when his fingers have only left you for a second before the weeping head of his cock is prodding at your pussy.

In one swift motion he buries himself in you, stretching your walls as his hips sit tightly against your ass. You feel useless, boneless after your orgasm, only able to lay there and take it. It's so nice you could cry, sniffling as Nico pulls back and fucks into you, a raw moan ripping from his throat.

"Fuck so perfect for me," he compliments, setting a fast and brutal pace. Your thighs and hips smack into the desk so harshly they'll definitely be sore tomorrow if not bruised too. His other hand grabs at your side, holding you so tightly you can feel his fingers between your ribs, painfully keeping you still.

"Just for me, fucking made for me."

You gasp, arch further into his strong body as your walls flutter around him. "All for you Nico," you mumble submissively, hoping to god that that's what he wants from you, that he wants to hear you. He groans in approval, the sound wrecked and rough. "Just want you, only ever want you, Nico."

Somehow he picks up the pace, fucking into you even harder and in the back of your mind you wonder where the fuck he got such a sturdy desk. Pressing his chest to your back, Nico sweeps your hair to the side, his lips finding the side of your neck.

"He had you first," he says low, breath hot against your ear "but I get you forever, right?"

Desperately, you nod, another orgasm building in the base of your belly. "Forever," you confirm. "He had me first, you'll be the last to have me Nico."

Sweetly, Nico kisses your temple. "Tell me," he request, now kissing at your jaw. "I want to hear more baby."

The juxtaposition of his cock fucking you into next week and his mouth being so sweet and soft cuts through you, leaves you raw and exposed to him. You knees shake again, thighs quivering as your high gets closer and closer, stronger now that he's already left you used and sensitive.

"He was the first to have me," you choke out, Nico's mouth ghosting over your cheek as he waits with bated breath. "but you were the first to have me raw, boss."

Nico makes a wounded sound, like he'd been punched in the gut and his hips stutter for a moment before picking up the same pace. He captures your mouth in a biting kiss, licking into your mouth with such dominance and control it sends you over the edge.

He fucks you through it, rocking his hips a few more times before he too stills, buried to the hilt as he comes. You pulse around him, greedily accept everything he pumps into you with absolutely no resistance. Nico kisses at your slack mouth, mumbling soft praises as you come down from your second orgasm.

"So good, baby. You did so good for me," he dots kisses under your eye, dragging his fingers across the skin and you blink your eyes open, realize your eyelashes are clumpy with tears and he's drying your cheeks for you.

"Nico," you cry, legs and hips aching, the edge of the desk digging into your skin uncomfortably He shifts, taking his weight off of you and releasing your hands. They prickle with pins and needly, the blood rushing back to them as they fall to your sides, numbly.

"I got you sweet girl," he assures, kissing down your back. Your in a haze as he pulls his jeans and boxers back up, then helps ease your underwear and skirt back into place. You make a noise complaint, needing to at least clean up a little bit but you don't make a move to do anything.

"You're fine," Nico tells you, slipping a hand under your stomach to drag you up from the desk. "Can sit out there with me dripping from you, yeah? Want you to remember who takes such good care of you now."

Like mush, you let Nico turn and sit you on the desk again, swiping his black shirt from the surface. He looks so pretty standing over you, cheeks flush and glowing, eyes still dark with arousal. His hair falls a little flat over his forehead, a crooked and boyish smile on his face.

"Yeah," you agree, still dazed as he uses his shirt to wipe under your eyes and around your lips, cleaning the spit remaining from his mouth.

Nico leans down, kisses between your eyes in a move so soft and fluttering it tickles, makes you blush like a school girl. "You're never too much," he promises, recalling the reason why Tyson had broken up with you. "You are everything. So pretty when you come, when you cry for me like that. I live for it."

Your heart aches in your chest, his kind words drawing a fresh wave of tears to your eyes. It had been something that followed you, an insecurity always in the back of your mind. You accepted whatever love you could get because you thought that was it. You were too much, they couldn't offer you more and you couldn't ask for more.

Until Nico.

"I love you Schao."

He smiles all handsome and precious, smoothing your hair down with a gentle hand. "Love you more, my baby."

You fall forward into his stomach, cheek pressing into the damp skin on his ribs. You want to hug him but your arms are still regaining their feeling and your legs are tired right now, so you settle for lazily wrapping an arm around his thighs.

“What’s a hodensniterin?”

He snickers, hand on your head, protectively. “Ball fucker.”

[heavenbarnes]

thinking about your older bf!simon that cannot cope with being far from you.

when you’re in the shower, he’s sat on the lid of the toilet on his phone (watching those rug cleaning videos) enjoying your faint singing under the stream of water, the smell of your body wash on the cloud of steam- ready to pass you a towel or get your back.

when you’re at your desk, working from home or studying, he’s just on the other side of it reading the paper with one outstretched leg tangled with both of yours. he’s dead quiet when you’re on a call, just happy to be around.

when you’re doing laundry, collecting the clothes in the hamper and crouching to stuff them into the washer- turning around and accidentally colliding with a thick wall of muscle.

“sorry, love”

he steps aside but you can hear his soft footfalls as he continues to follow you throughout your home.

when you’re both watching something on the couch, what starts as his pinky locked with yours turns into his arm around your waist. that turns into your head on his chest, which culminates with you falling asleep in his lap with his cheek on your head and soft snores emanating from his lips.

when you grocery shop, you push the trolley but his chest is to your back, arms either side of you and hands clasped over yours on the handle. you can thank his military training for his uncanny ability to tell exactly when you’ll stop walking.

when he wakes up in the middle of the night, on a rare occasion when you’ve managed to slip out of bed without him realising, he’s immediately in a panic calling your name.

“in here, my love”

as soon as his heart settles, he realises the bathroom light was probably a dead giveaway. you’re taking a wee, you’ll be back in a minute.

that doesn’t stop a sleepy simon from leaning in the doorframe, shielding his eyes from the big light as he waits for you to finish up.

even on the short walk back to bed, you can feel fingers twisted in the back of your shirt- almost like you’re leading the way.

minute you’re both on the mattress, you’re being wrapped up in his arms, slotting you perfectly into the curve of his front- almost like you’re made for him.

(and you are)

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

shouto is absolutely, 100% the type to have what you deem to be the ugliest picture of you and cherish it. he'd have it as his home screen and everything and deem it worthy of being hung up in a gallery. you tell him to change it when you see it immediately and he looks so utterly shocked and confused. he quickly denies it when you say it doesn't look very flattering. seriously too, face hardening a bit when he shakes his head and some strands fall close to his eyes.

"no, i like it." and just for safe measures he looks at his screen again and nods to himself afterwards "you look beautiful. you always do."

yeah, you're not so sure about that, but you unfortunately don't have much of a choice. your boyfriend is a sweetheart but god could he be stubborn..

[crsssie]

down the neck - spencer reid x sharpshooter!reader

"Stop breathing down my neck." You huff, glancing through the scope at the unsub.

"Well, I have to lay low too, no?" Spencer frowns.

"It doesn't matter." You squint, humming. "Hit the button and ask Hotch if I can shoot. Be fast."

"Hotch, we have a clear shot."

"I have a clear shot."

"Snippy—"

"Fire."

You click your tongue, pulling the trigger once to hit the unsub's hand and a second to snipe the gun out of range as Morgan flies into the place. You watch through the scope as Spencer looks through the binoculars, and you only start to sit up when you see Morgan pull the unsub out. Then, you actually sit up and start packing up.

"Stop breathing down my neck." You huff.

"You weren't complaining when I—"

You hold a finger to your lips, pointing at your earpiece as Spencer blinks, laughing when you hear a cough in your ears from Hotch.

"Sorry."

"Need I remind you both of—"

"Nope." You puff out your cheeks, slinging the gun around to your back as Spencer raises a brow. "Actually, I think Reid needs a quick reminder. He'd love to go through another HR meeting about how we shouldn't be fraternizing with—"

"We're good, Hotch." Spencer cuts you off, rolling his eyes at you. "We'll see you back at the station."

"You're driving." You mumble, turning off your mic. "Two dollars and I'll drive. Four dollars and I'll make a stop at McDonalds."

"And for five?"

"I'll sneak in a kiss plus everything else."

"I think that can be arranged." He hums, pulling out a five as you press your lips to his, tongue swiping over your bottom lips as he chases when you pull away. You stick your tongue out teasingly as you take the five, craning your neck so that his lips would hit your neck instead. "Hey."

"I'll drop a ten if you—"

"Reid."

You laugh as Spencer jolts straight, pinching the bridge of his nose at the sound of Hotch.

"Turn off your mic next time."

"Roger that, sir."

You're too busy laughing the rest of the way back to be able to drive. (but spencer has no complaints when you hand him back the five with a chaste kiss to his lips).

[katsu2ji]

katsuki LOVES seeing you spend his money. you tell him you're having a bad day? he's sending you some money and telling you to buy something nice for yourself. you guys are going out on a date? he reminds you not to bring your wallet—he's got it. and you've reminded him time and time again that he doesn't have to do any of that, that you feel bad spending his money!!! but he doesn't care.

he reminds you every time that he wants to spend his money on you, no matter how big or small. he knows full well that you can pay for the things he buys you. he knows how hard you work for your money, how dedicated you are to your job.

but if he's there, why should you have to worry about anything at all?

katsu2ji © 2025. please don't copy, modify, or do anything of the sort with my work! i work very hard and you simply do not have my permission.

[bobateababe]

Sukuna purposely lets you win in board games. He pretends to be all ancient and dumb about the modern world, but in reality he's smarter than he appears.

He loves seeing the prideful look on your face when you insert a chip into the slot of connect 4. The way you pump your fist in the air and get cocky whenever he loses has his dick standing straight up. He just loves seeing his baby win.

"Ha!" you shout. "I win again! see that? 4-0. See Suku?" You stop and look at Sukuna, expecting to see an expression of disappointment on his face. Instead, he sits there cross legged on the floor, with his chin resting in his hand as he love sickly smirks at you, looking deep in your eyes and admiring the way your features tighten and become fiery the heat of your little victory.

"I suppose you did win my goddess"

here's a fic based on the one I just wrote

[starch1ldz]

James Buchanan Barnes, who actually suffers from long term affects of the chair. Bucky Barnes, who struggles with names. Bucky, who can only properly remember Steve's name.

Bucky, who called Tony Bologna on accident, because he knows it's a word but doesn't know what it means sometimes, and it sounds like Tony. Or macaroni, which results in the Avengers giving him funny nicknames because no one wants Bucky to feel bad about it.

Bucky, who calls Sam Ham, or Pam depending on the day. Sam, who laughs and corrects him softly, he doesn't really care much and he answers to either as long as Bucky is saying it.

Bucky, who calls all of the Avengers some slightly to the left version of their actually names, but none of the Avengers, besides Tony, can really bring them selves to be mad because Bucky at the end of the day is remembering.

[xiao-come-home]

Hear me out. Boothill is absolutely obsessed with physical touch and WILL always have an arm around your waist. He will shamelessly kiss you in front of others if anyone dares to flirt with you in his presence (he promised not to shoot anyone anymore). He WILL slap your ass if you walk past him and smirk with his arms crossed when you look back at him. Why? He knows you can't really slap his ass back (this one might hurt), but you're very welcome to try, he won't stop you. Will pull your chin up with his fingers and kiss you whenever he wants. Boothill will bite you on purpose with his sharp teeth to mark you, only to kiss the purple spots better, so you can melt under his touch. Boothill thinks the sidewalk rule is very important - that's why he pushes other people on the road, so you can have more space to walk, while holding your hand. He pulls you towards him so you hit his firm, metal chest with yours while he laughs, cupping your face roughly and gently kissing your cheek. He wants you to pull on his hair when you kiss, so you can get goosebumps when he groans into your mouth and feel his cold fingers caress your soft skin further down.

PSST! boothill relationship headcanons and more thirst here!

[cute-sucker]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ RAFE WOULD ALWAYS BE TUGGING YOU CLOSE DURING PARTIES WHEN YOU GOT A LITTLE TOO EXCITED. you could always count on him to keep you close, but at times you noticed he got a bit territorial. it was times when your tube top is close to falling, hair messed up while you smiled up at rafe. he'd always pull you closer, running a hand on your messed up hair, before giving you a quick peck. usually rafe was amused, but you could sense today wasn't that day.

"hey, baby?"

you giggled at the endearment. he barely called you anything like that infront of others, his voice gentle and a bit teasing. but you could see a sneaking look of possessiveness when rafe gripped you closer. you couldn't be bothered now, really you embraced it being so close to him.

"i missed you," you murmured sweetly, leaning into his warmth.

"yea?" rafe'd muse at you again, a smirk on his face before giving you a pat on the ass as you jumped up and down. you nodded enthusiastically, your head bopping up and down, panting.

it was only when you seemed to get a little drowsy, when he pulled you closer again. still, his mouth was a firm line as he watched you carefully as if scanning the area. his eyes would go a bit darker, large arms on your waist.

"settle down."

[joelmillermylove]

I need a Joel Miller type of man, that is maybe a little too protective over me. He has just a hint of silver in his hair, the cutest smile, broad shoulders and smells like leather, whiskey and oak. He’s grumpy and intimidating but with me he’s sweet and gentle. That’s what I want.

[mikkomacko]

ok so chat what do we think about nico and reader trying thigh riding 🥸

A/n: as usual, this got away from me but I’m not upset about it hehe. Enjoy pookie x

Warning: smut, biting, thigh riding, unprotected sex, careful on the stairs kids

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“Oh fuck,” Nico pants, bicep straining as clings to the banister. His other hand grabs at your ass, fingers flexing and digging into your skin as he aids you in bouncing on his lap.

Maybe he should be holding your back or your waist, keeping you steady in the off chance you lose your balance. You should be terrified of tumbling down the stairs, a fear you briefly considered when you were ripping his shirt over his head ten minutes ago and tackling him to the stairs.

But then he’s groaning, all low and sexy, and you’re biting at the side of his neck in approval, blunt teeth pinching that tendon in the column of his throat and his hips jerk up into you, the tip of his cock punching the spongy part inside of you and your pulse around him, releasing a low whining sound of approval in his ear.

“Fuck you’re so good baby.” Nico sighs, straightening his leg out until he’s sprawled out on the stairs, bracing himself against the wall and on a step with his feet.

Your hands run up his torso, moving from where you were pressing into his stomach for balance and trailing up his ribs and chest. Goosebumps rise on his skin, his whole body burning hot and in the back of your mind you wonder if the sweat on his body is sticking uncomfortably to the wood floors.

Nico’s hand grips you tighter, blunt nails biting into the skin of your ass and it hurts so good, stings just enough to make your walls flutter around him again.

“Nico,” you murmur, lips sloppy and wet as you mouth at his collarbones. Nico arches up into the touch, breath hitching in his throat as you lick and bite your way down his chest. Slowing your hips to more of a grind, you nibble at the meat of his peck, biting just hard enough for him to whimper and feel his cock twitch.

Your teeth find his nipple, softly pressing your tongue to the nub and Nico makes a soft little mewing sound, his hand dropping from the banister to cradle the back of your head.

It’s sweet when he’s like this, when he lets you take over and touch and love on him during sex. Usually it’s the other way around, his hands and mouth driving you so crazy with pleasure you don’t have enough concentration to give it back.

Not that he ever really minds. You know he prefers sex where he’s in charge, where everything is doled out by his hand.

You also know he gets weak in the knees when you touch and mess with his nipples, that’s it’s a soft spot for him. That one vulnerable little push point that he’s never let anyone prod at but you.

“Baby,” Nico gasps, arching further into your mouth and you bite down, harsh and stinging but only brief, immediately soothing it with your tongue again.

His whole body goes rigid, hips flexing up and he somehow presses in even deeper, cock pulsing and dripping, and maybe you should ease up before this is over too soon but you don’t. It’s not everyday you get Nico like this and you’re going to push him as far as he’ll let you.

“Fuck, I’m gonna…baby not gonna-“ you bite at him again, lifting your hips to the tip of him and then slowly sink back down, muffling your moan into his skin at that stretch.

You don’t know if it’s the vibrations of your groan, the stinging pain of your teeth on his nipple, or the movement of your hips that does him in, but Nico makes a punched sound, almost wounded and then his fingers are tangling in your hair and his hand is holding your ass down into his cock. You still, tonguing sensually at the raw teeth marks you’ve left on him as Nico’s whole body tightens, cock throbbing and pulsing between your walls as he comes.

You’re still milking it out of him, moving over to pay some attention to his other nipple and just slightly riding him, when he makes an affronted noise.

“Sorry, fuck I’m sorry baby,” he babbles, voice wrecked and raw. You let up, lift your head to look at him through heady eyes. His cheeks are all pink and splotchy, forehead damp with sweat and skin glistening. He looks so good, even better with the purple splotches and red marks of your mouth.

“For what?” You ask, thumbing at the nipple you’d abandoned too early and Nico hisses through his teeth, cock still hard and jumping weakly at your touch.

“You didn’t,” he gasps, stretches out until his head thumps against the stair under his head. His hair fans out in a dark mess against the wood, fluffy and frizzy. “Fuck you didn’t come.”

You didn’t but you don’t really care to be honest. It was very much worth it to have him like this, a mess beneath you, whining and whimpering, those dark eyes of his glossy and desperate as they look at you.

“M’ok,” you promise, leaning forward to kiss at his swollen mouth. Nico hums contently, dipping his tongue into your mouth. The hand on your ass drops to palm your thigh, squeezing and then grabbing at you, encouraging you to keep riding him.

For just a moment, you hesitate, unsure if Nico’s actually wanting you to keep going. You know he’s sensitive after that, know how worked up he got to have him coming before he wanted to because he’s always so collected and disciplined in bed.

His stamina has never disappointed you before.

So when there’s the off day he does shoot off before he intended to, you take it as it is and usually just end up coming on his tongue or fingers. Still a win in your books.

Nico takes your lack of reaction as a question, answering with a resounding nip to your bottom lip and you start to move. Careful and slow, both hands now grabbing at your waist to aid you, you ride him.

But every time you sink down on him, Nico shifts and groans, attempting to stifle the noise of complaint with his tongue in your mouth. It’s hot knowing he’s willing to sit here and let you use him, to take what you want from him, but Nico isn’t as practiced in that art as you are. Just as you’re not as practiced in taking as he is.

Distracted by the whining noises of complaint, the way his cock is twitching in protest every time your hips are flush on him, you pull back from him.

“Nico it’s ok,” you say, breathless. Running a hand through his hair, “can make me come later, right now you-“

“No you’re coming now,” he interjects, grunting in discomfort as he peels himself up from the stairs and you wince, already imagining the pain in his back.

“I’m not sitting on your face on the fucking stairs Hischier.” You protest, knees sore as you rise off of him, core aching and needy when he slips out.

Nico makes a scoffing noise of disbelief, one hand holding you while he adjust himself until he’s completely sprawled out on the stairs, long legs and thich thighs looking so inviting.

“Right here baby,” he urges, spreading his thighs and adjusting you so that when you rest your weight onto him, he’s got one meaty thigh between yours.

Oh, you know where this is going. You’ve never done this with Nico, never really having the patience for it. Anytime he wants to be under you, you’re immediately going for his dick, not his thigh.

You straddle the muscle, holding onto his shoulders for balance and roll your hips forward. The soft fuzzy hair of his thigh tickles, rough and torturous on your swollen clit. It sort of feels like his beard does when he eats you out. Different still, but similar enough to be familiar.

“Oh fuck,” you gasp, eyes falling shut and head tilting back as you let pleasure take over, rub yourself against Nico’s thigh that you love oh so much.

He’s no stranger to that. He’s noticed how you kiss and bite at his thighs every chance you get, how your go to seat is always his lap when acceptable, how you eye them when he gets out of the shower in just his boxers in the morning.

“That’s it,” he encourages, entranced by watching you. It’s like your body is moving on its own accord, pressing into his thigh with all your might, taking what it wants without a second thought.

He’s sore from being fucked into the stairs, his neck and chest throbbing from you biting at him, spent cock still aching from overstimulation, but he doesn’t dare move or complain. Not when you look like that on top of him.

Nico’s eyes drop to where you’re sitting on him, watching with sick fascination as his come slowly drips from you, smearing into his thigh and aiding your movements. It’s so fucking hot, you marking him like that, unintentionally so.

His cock makes a valiant effort at showing interest, twitching pathetically against his belly and he groans, tinges of pain sparking in his veins and he has to distract himself.

Attaching his mouth to your neck, Nico follows the same tortuous pattern you used to make him come earlier. Biting at the veins of your throat, sucking at your collarbones and then nipping at the swell of your breast. He bites down hard there, chuckles under his breath when your hips jerk, a strangled groan leaving you.

Nico licks over your nipple, careful as he sucks the bud into his mouth and rolls his tongue around it. Unlike him, biting and nipping here doesn’t do much for you, hurts more than it feels good so he keeps his mouth soft and inviting, lovingly mouthing at the mound.

“Nico,” you cry, whining and questioning, your hips slowing just the slightest bit and he smirks in satisfaction. There you are, right there for him, so close to coming you’ve reverted back to that pliant and submissive girl he loves so much.

“Schao, please.”

Taking a hold of your ass again, Nico assists in rolling your hips, grinding your clit into his thigh with practiced strength and speed. He’d been waiting to do this, wanted to memorize what made you come when you ride him so that when he got the chance to put you over his thigh like this, it was going to be worth it.

“That’s my girl,” he compliments, kissing under your ear. “My perfect girl, you gonna come for me?”

Your fingers press into his back, tucking your face into his neck and Nico smiles, pleased. “Please Nico.”

He pecks another kiss to your neck. “You look so good up there,” he compliments, knowing that’s what will do you in. “So pretty on my thigh, using me to feel good, huh?”

Incoherent noises of agreement leave you, mumbled into his shoulder and your whole body goes tight, fighting against his hold as he keeps rolling your hips, dragging you head first through your orgasm.

“That’s it, make a mess on me baby, so good.” He keeps going even after you’ve relaxed, body like putty in his hands. Deliberately, Nico drags out your pleasure until your nails are digging into his skin uncomfortably and then he stills, kissing at your jaw and petting at your thighs lovingly.

He almost laughs when you still shift forward, thigh clenching as you rub into his flexed thigh one more time.

“Fuck,” you mutter through a laugh, breathless and happy. Nico combs his fingers through your hair, presses a chaste kiss to your forehead.

“Yeah,” he agrees, smiling into your hairline.

“How’s your back?”

He laughs. “Oh it fucking hurts,” he says and you wince in apology, moving to massage your fingers into the sore muscles. “But so fucking worth it.”

You take a moment, still tenderly prodding at his complaining muscles. He closes his eyes, holding you and melting into your touch as you both come down.

“Good work boss,” You compliment through a giggle, and Nico laughs, leaning back into the stairs so he can see that dopey smile. “We finally christened the stairs.”

“Some of our best work boss,” he agrees, smiling like a fool and patting your hip. “Let’s go get cleaned up before I lost all the feeling in my legs.”

[heavenbarnes]

there was something to be said about the fact older bf!simon made such a good house husband.

“i forgot my lunch :( ”

“forgot to make it or bring it?”

“both?”

“on my way”

because the next thing was your coworkers slowly raising their heads to the sound outside your office, a throaty rumbling of an engine right outside the doors.

not a car, motorcycle maybe? question affirmed when it revved twice.

they shot you confused looks when the sound made your ears prick up, a sweet smile on your face as you trotted out the front of the building.

behemoth of a man sat astride a motorcycle. his leathers added bulk but there was something about him that said he was big enough without them.

he watched you walk over as he raised the visor on his helmet, the black one with a ghostly image of a skull painted across it.

your coworkers pressed to the windows, trying their best to hide behind the curtains and potted plants but failing all the same.

the man pointed to his face as you got on tip toes to press a kiss to his nose through the balaclava he had under the helmet.

“don’t make it a late one, alright?”

“yessir”

as you gave him a haphazard salute, he reached behind to give you a pat on the backside before he stood to retrieve the brown paper bag he’d been carrying.

lunch in hand, you lean in to press a kiss to the visor he’d just lowered- right on top of the lipstick print that sat in the corner of it.

the print that looked a lot like your lips.

the helmet never leaves the back of you as you walk towards the office, your coworkers scrambling to not get caught staring.

you didn’t mind, just smiled as you reached into your lunch bag and retrieved a sandwich. the one that was cut perfectly into the shape of a heart.

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

kaminari complains to his friends about how gross it is that you and katsuki kiss every morning in front of your classroom door. like, have some compassion for the singles, yknow ?! his friends tell him to just drop it.

what they don’t know is the reason he kisses you every morning is to guess which flavor your lipgloss is. and he’s a little too proud when he gets it right.

[rafey-baby]

c/w: yoga instructor!rafe being touchy & suggestive (is he even talking about yoga atp?) 18+ mdni!

wc: 890

part 2

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

She signed up for the class in order to help her achy muscles relax a bit, not expecting the instructor to be so…hot (for the lack of better words).

Therefore, it was nearly impossible for her focus her attention on his directions since all she could concentrate on was the way his muscles would ripple under his shirt and his beefy forearms flex whenever he’d demonstrate a new pose with sweat glittering on his forehead.  

He’d make rounds around class and help everyone get their form right and whenever he’d get to her, his hands would always linger for longer than necessary, making her assume she simply needed more assistance since she hadn’t really been paying attention when he was explaining it at the front.  

“Clumsy little thing, huh?” he’d playfully mock her when she’d stumble on her feet the minute his hands weren’t supporting her.

He'd always correct her posture with a warm palm on her waist— pushing her forward with a soft press of his big hand against her back; tapping her thigh to get her to switch into a better position. Heady breaths tickling her ear when he'd mumble out advice on how to get the stretch to feel deeper, murmuring soft words of encouragement in a certain cadence that would make her tingle, something profound in her tummy flutter.  

“This one’s a bit of a harder one but I know you can take it, yeah?”  

“Shit, you’re getting so good at this.”  

“You feel that?” 

Then one day after class when nearly everyone’s left and there’s only a few people loitering around, gathering their things, Rafe pads over to her. 

She’s in the midst of taking a sip from her water bottle and his tall frame approaching her makes her look up; he’s clad in a black pair of workout shorts and a dark grey t shirt. Her gaze stalls on the way his tongue pokes out to lick over his pillowy lips.  

“Hey, so I thought I could go over that one pose with you one more time. Just so you really get it for next time, yeah?” He suggests, merely wanting to help out the poor girl who’s always struggling in the back of his class.  

“Oh, um— sure,” she answers, embarrassment painting over her features because she knows exactly what he’s referring to; a specific position where she had toppled over and hit the floor, making Rafe’s eyes widen in concern and the other people around her gasp and ask if she was okay.  

It didn’t really even hurt that much, she thinks. At least not as much as her flimsy ego that got bruised up in the midst of it all, trying to cover up how humiliated she had felt with a small laugh, climbing back up to stand on wobbly legs accompanied by a flushed face.   

At this point they’re the only people left and she suddenly feels all too nervous because she’s never been alone with him before. Her inhales and exhales are turning labored, intractable. And she’s not sure whether her clamorous respiration is echoing in the empty room or in the empty halls of her mind. She mentally crosses her fingers and wishes it’s the latter, stepping on top of her shamrock-colored yoga mat.  

“So, what you wanna do is concentrate your weight on this leg, so you don’t lose your balance,” he taps her right thigh and she nearly stumbles on her feet once again; the corners of his mouth tugging up. “And then bend the other one right here, you think you can do that?”  

“Mhm,” she hums as she moves her limbs in the way he’s patiently instructing her to.  

“Just like that,” blue hydrangea eyes are glued to her, making her think he can read right through her as she swallows at the praise.  

“Then, you gotta lean your weight here,” he settles a hearty hand on her right upper arm, thumb mindlessly skating over her burning skin as she does just that.  

“There you go, Bambi,” he murmurs and a pomegranate tinge blushes over her cheeks at the nickname, rounded eyes trying to blink away the haze that clouds over them.  

“You feel it here?” His fingertips graze over her inner thigh and she manages a nod, limbs feeling mellow and spongy all of a sudden. 

“Good, good,” he breathes out and her brain turns into a knotted ball of wool at his intoxicating proximity.  

“And if you ever feel like you’re gonna fall, just focus on a specific spot on the floor or the wall or anything, it’ll help, alright?” The words sound almost gravelly when he rasps them out as his palms rest on her waist, strong arms steadying her.  

“Okay…thanks,” she manages out, sucking in some air her lungs are screaming for since apparently, she’s forgotten how important breathing is.  

He then pushes her forward a little, making her let out a small noise from the back of her throat in surprise. The sudden stretch of the position she’s now in making her gasp.  

“I know, feels good, huh?”  

“Uh— yeah,” she squeaks out, feeling the cotton material of her panties dampening at the way he’s speaking to her; her thoughts turning into something indecent, muddy...

[lomlkenji]

༊*·˚ pretty boy | peter parker

main masterlist

for you, peter is the literally definition of pretty. his big brown puppy eyes and his perfectly structured face, his lean but muscular built, his cute little pout when you don’t give him a kiss before he goes patrolling.

he is just so so very pretty.

you don't know know how long you have been staring at him for, but he didn't seem to notice. too busy focusing on his science project, and his concentration is very hot.

his long slender fingers moving carefully and slowly to put the pieces together and your attention only zeroed on them. such, such pretty hands.

the weight of your stare was starting to make peter nervous. peter gets flustered very easily. and with you? you didn't even have to try.

peter suddenly put down the components for his project and turned to you, “i know i'm hot but can you please stop staring at me like that?” he mumbled, as a soft blush appear on his face. his tone was confident but you can sense his nervousness.

he tried focusing on his project again as you chuckled, the kind of chuckle that sends tingles all over peter's body, “sorry pete, but you are just so very pretty.”

wow. okay he didn't expect that.

peter chocked on his saliva, his body hot all over, nearly dropping the pieces of his homework.

“baby, you can't just say things like that.” he looked at you, eyes wide and soft. and it makes you grin.

“it's the truth.” you shrugged, “you're my pretty boy.” you know you're testing his limits, but it was fun teasing peter.

peter's mind malfunctioned. he's trying to ignore you, but the way you said my pretty boy is replaying over and over in his head.

“damn it.” he quietly swore, putting down whatever left of his project and turning to you.

your eyebrows rose in a teasing manner as a smirk finds its way to your face. “what?” you innocently asked, but you know exactly what you're doing, and he knows it too.

peter chuckled as he walks to where your laying at the bed. the sound send a shiver up your spine and now you're the one who's nervous.

he leaned closer to you, you could feel his breath on your lips as you both took a moment to admire each other. peter was staring at your eyes to your nose and your soft lips, bringing his eyes to connect with yours again and you could feel your stomach doing flips.

“and you're my pretty baby.” he whispered softly before cutting off a whine that rose up your throat with his lips.

his lips were a little chapped, but it fits your perfectly. your hands move to tangle on his hair, giving it a little pull making peter groan into the kiss. he leaned back, his warm hands move to find comfort on your waist as he brings you onto his lap.

peter felt like his heart was about to burst. every single sense of his is override and all he can focus on is you. you. you.

his home.

reblog for a kiss <3

[writersdrug]

Dad!Ghost, but his two girls are so picky with everything they eat. It's a struggle for the both of you to convince them to eat their vegetables - the only success you've had is cooking broccoli and cauliflower until it's fall-apart tender, and slathering it in butter. Maybe you can sneak a few cooked, blended vegetables into their spaghetti sauce, but they're Simon's girls - they know when something's up. They try to bargain and make ultimatums with him at the dinner table, but he doesn't budge an inch, of course. Says something like "eat your vegetables or no Tangled for a month", which makes them reconsider.

Of course, your youngest son will eat anything - no qualms whatsoever. He was barely started on solids and he'd eat bites of steamed eggplant and peas like they were popcorn. Of course he has his favorites; he had a meltdown once, when Simon turned away from the dinner table to pick up the fork your son dropped, only to lift his head and find the little bugger had grabbed the rest of a medium-rare steak off of his dad's plate, attempting to eat it like a true caveman (the apple really didn't fall far from the tree). Didn't let it go or stop crying until Simon put a yogurt pop in his tiny hand.

("Mummy doesn't need to know about this, 'kay?")