#i hope this fits what you’re looking for anon

[aisiedaisie]

I’m kinda living for the whole college Sirius you’ve got going. Never would’ve imagined him as a TA but Astronomy fits soooo well. (Very much looking forward to more of that) But just imagine… Tutor reader and one of the other boys is a barista on campus and they just know the readers order as soon as they walk in because it seems like they always stop by before or after work. I think that would be soooo cute!

Also saw you have designated anons can I be your ⏳ anon if that’s not taken already?

Hello hello~!!! I’m so happy you’re enjoying the college AU! I’m really loving TA!Sirius too, so that storyline will definitely continue. Now, as for your ask—when I saw ‘barista,’ my first thought was to make it a Remus-centered fic. But…I raise you social butterfly barista James Potter. With that said, I hope you enjoy my take on your idea!

Also of course you can be my ⏳anon!!!

Barista!James Potter x Fem!Reader WC: 1.1k

It's early afternoon, and the coffee shop tucked in the far corner of the quad is practically deserted. Only a few frazzled students tap furiously at their keyboards, their brows knitted in concentration, while the occasional professor unwinds after a long string of lectures. Behind the counter, two baristas are stationed, chatting as they clean and restock in leisurely rhythm, bracing for the next rush that’s sure to sweep through those double glass doors in a few hours.

When you step into the shop, just as you do nearly every day around this time, you’re greeted by the soft hum of music filtering through the speakers, barely louder than the clatter of laptop keys and the muffled murmur of conversation. Yet, the sound is familiar and comforting, blending seamlessly with the warmth of the space.

You glance toward the bar, and there he is—James, a familiar face, mid-motion as he turns from cleaning the espresso grinder. His brown eyes light up with recognition, crinkling with a smile that’s warm and easy.

"Hey, love," he greets, pushing his round glasses back up the bridge of his nose. "Your usual?"

You can’t help but mirror his smile as you nod, digging into your bag to pull out your wallet. “Yeah, thank you, James.”

At the register, the other barista, a girl with dark red hair pulled into a loose bun, rings up your order. You notice, though, that she pauses as James adds an extra drink to your total. She raises an eyebrow, casting him a questioning look. “She’s only getting one, though?” she asks, her brows furrowing.

“Just trust me, Lils,” James replies, his smile as certain as it is mysterious. With a small sigh, she relents, and you barely notice the extra charge, simply thanking her with a quiet smile before finding an empty table.

You settle in, pulling out your journal and glancing at your phone, gauging how many hours you’ll be spending in the library tonight.

As you begin jotting down notes, your mind drifts to a few concerns your students shared during the last session, the things they struggle with that you’re determined to help them understand. The scratch of your pen on the paper becomes a soothing rhythm until—

A steaming mug lands on a coaster beside your phone, pulling you from your thoughts. You look up, startled, an apology already on your lips. “Sorry,” you murmur, realizing you must’ve missed him calling your name.

James only chuckles, his smile soft yet playful. “Sorry for what, love?”

“Not coming to get my order?”

He laughs, the sound warm and familiar, filling the quiet space between you. “I didn’t even call for you.” He shakes his head, clearly amused. “When I finished with your tea, you were already writing, so I figured I’d just bring it over.”

You thank James with a grateful smile, but he just waves it off, already turning back to the espresso grinder. Lily, meanwhile, busies herself at the small refrigerator, restocking whipped cream canisters with the kind of efficiency that only comes from experience.

You open your journal once more and start drafting a few more notes, tailoring each to help your students in their upcoming sessions. First on today’s list is Evan—a top business student, though lately, he’s hit a wall with Economic History. You’re not entirely sure why. Though the subject is notoriously dry, Evan is bright and usually navigates complex material with ease.

Then again, you’ve noticed a pattern. Every time a certain psychology major sits just outside your study room door, Evan’s focus starts to drift. You’ve seen the stolen glances, the way his attention wavers whenever that familiar face appears in his line of sight.

But you don’t really mind. Evan’s a fast learner, and once he sets his mind to it, he absorbs concepts quickly. With a small smile, you jot down a few more examples, hoping to make the material click despite his latest...distractions.

After some time, you shift in your seat, feeling the strain of being hunched over for so long. You roll your shoulders, feeling a satisfying pop and release of tension. Glancing at your mug, you realize it’s now almost empty; the last bit of lemon mint tea has gone cold, a quiet signal that it’s time to pack up and move on.

You slip your book and journal back into your tote bag and stand, carrying your mug over to the return station, placing it gently in its designated spot. A quick glance at the counter shows James mid-motion, focused on another drink. You approach Lily instead, thanking her for helping out and asking if you could order a tea to-go. Lily just shakes her head, waving you off with a small smile.

“Oh?” you ask, brows furrowing in mild confusion.

Before you can answer, James turns, holding a drink carrier with two steaming cups, his expression radiating a proud, quiet satisfaction. “Figured you’d be heading to the library after this,” he says, a grin tugging at his lips. “So I added a second tea to your order.”

You let out a soft sigh, almost a laugh, and despite yourself, a fond smile tugs at your own lips. “James…”

But he’s already pressing the drinks into your hands, that familiar, mischievous glint in his eyes steady and warm.

“You got the coffee too. Honestly, you’re too good at this job,” you tease, glancing down at the carrier— your usual tea to go and an Americano for Remus at the library desk.

James’ grin widens, his gaze bright with playful pride. “Well, we have to keep our loyal customers around somehow,” he jokes. “Can’t risk you being lured away by another coffee shop on campus.”

You laugh, a soft and genuine sound, as you take the drinks from him. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about. This is my favorite spot, after all.” You give him a small, lasting smile, the comfort of this place—and maybe of him—settling around you.

“Good luck with work,” he says warmly, his voice carrying a note of encouragement.

As you make your way to the door, you catch yourself glancing back, a gentle wave accompanying the smile that lingers, soft and warm, just a little longer than you’d planned.

As soon as she steps out the door, Lily glances over at James, raising an eyebrow. “Do you think she noticed you put your number on the cup?”

James shrugs, a bit sheepish but still with a hint of a grin. “Probably. I mean, I hope so.” He leans back against the counter, his expression a mix of casual hope and quiet anticipation.

���I guess we’ll see.”

[lokissweater]

hey i really really love your fics and the way you write youre so talented! ive been searching for a virgin!yuji x virgin!reader for so long and my life would literally be urs if you wrote this. if not no worries, i totally get it.

sending love! - anon

OH THIS IDEA IS HOOOOTTTTT AND U BEST BELIEVE IM ALL OVER IT!! thank you for your sweet words and for sending in a request!! i hope you like it!! :] <333

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oh my god, pretty!

{yuji itadori x f!reader}

summary: your relationship with yuji was semi new and cute, you both absolutely adoring the fuck out of one another since the moment you met. one thing you have in common though? you’re both loser virgins with absolutely no experience whatsoever, and on one night where you’re both innocently cuddling on the couch watching a movie— yuji goes NUTS.

warnings: MDNI. college!au, afab!reader, SMUT, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it ya’ll), accidental creampie LOL, yuji is a little perv, smut with barely any plot she goes straight to the good stuff, cursing, pet names, fluff, FILTHYYYY this is filthy, all characters are aged up.

word count: 3.9k

authors note: PHEEWWWW THIS ONE HAD ME MEOWING LIKE A KITTY CAT AND I HOPE YALL MEOW WITH ME!!! thank you for your support always, that is an absolute given, i love you and i love you forever. MWAAAHHHH <3333

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“are you okay baby?”

no you were not.

because yuji was in a black tight compression tee and pj’s while you both were watching a movie together and cuddling on your living room couch, the sleeves of his shirt accentuating his biceps and the rest of it squeezing over his pecs and torso, the brightness of your tv illuminating all of his sharp handsome features that had you gnawing at your nails in a nervous fit— him looking at you with pinched eyebrows.

yuji and you had just started dating a couple of months ago— his lively overly friendly personality winning you over without really much effort at all, and your genuine sweet one catching his heart the minute he saw you come into one of his lectures last year, looking soul killingly beautiful and radiant, the both of you befriending each other quickly as your interests aligned.

and you started hanging out on and off campus a lot more frequently after that— gradually falling more and more in love until yuji finally gathered up his jumpy nerves and asked you to be his girlfriend.

there was a problem though.

neither of you had had sex before, or had done anything in between the lines with other people before you got together.

it was the first thing that yuji worried about when he first started dating you— embarrassed and afraid that you would think he was a big fat loser with no game and that he would potentially run the risk of losing you, you maybe preferring a man of experience to match your own needs.

but when he admitted that to you, and when you shook your worried little head and told him you were in the same exact boat as him, he was fucking elated— his apprehensions crumbling down like a landslide and replaced instead with the giddiness of getting to do stuff with you for the first time ever, and him being the man (the only man ever he hoped) to get to do it to you.

but then there was another problem.

neither of you seemed to want to start anything, the both of you hesitant and scared because of your lack of experience— petrified of humiliating yourselves if one of you tried and pathetically failed at it or did something incorrectly.

“mhm! fine.” you smiled sweetly, your calm voice a completely different contrast to what was currently happening inside your reeling fuzzy brain.

you had both definitely talked about it, the subject of intimacy. but it was always something that the two of you reassured each other would happen eventually when you were both ready, that there was no rush— choosing to brush the subject off like it was nothing.

except it wasn’t nothing. it was never nothing. and you were both way past fucking ready, especially yuji, him practically ripping apart at the seams with horn dog need anytime he saw you wear those little skirts that you like so much, or whenever you’d straddle his lap during one of your daily makeout sessions— his hands literally trembling over your ass in attempts at being respectful of pretty ol’ you, settling for placing them on your upper back instead.

and you would internally pout, disappointed, because you always without fail noticed all of this yet you were too shy to mention anything or do something about it on your own.

“you sure?” he asked softly. “you look like you’re thinking about something.”

he raised a hand and gently poked your cheek repeatedly with his index finger, a silly smile on his face. “tell me baby tell me baby tell me baby—”

you giggled, “i’m okay! just zoned out.” you pushed his finger away, leaning up and pressing a quick shy kiss to his cheek that made him instantly flush pink in return, a wobbly smile spreading across his face.

in the midst of you retreating back to your previous position, yuji caught your chin with his fingers and turned you to look at him, your cheeks blushing as he stared at you with lovesick dreamy eyes.

“can we— um.” his gaze flickered to your lips. “can we make out.”

your eyes widened slightly and your hands grew clammy fast, cheeks buzzing as you stared back at him.

since making out was the only thing you both properly conquered, it happened almost every single time you saw each other, the act practically filling in and making up for the more lewd exchanges you both were missing out on, your kisses always sloppy and messy but heated— though each time it came around to it you were often just as nervous as the first time.

“s—sure!” you stammered. “you don’t have to ask me yuji… you can just— y’know… do it..”

he bit his tongue, your timidness for some fucking reason sending a shock of arousal through his veins and straight down to his dick as he tried his best to swallow it and not make it obvious for you.

“okay!”

he brought your face closer then and kissed you, a solid one at first, until you slowly parted your lips and ushered him in, deeper, your body moving closer to his on its own as he immediately responded with placing a hand on your leg to throw it over his lap, your mouths wet and slippery as he properly settled you to sit on him.

you wrapped your arms around his neck, the movie drowned out completely in the background as a sequence of lip smackings echoed throughout the room, yuji’s hands on your upper back like always as you continued to make out… until you felt a little stinging cramp in your knee— moving your hips a little bit to readjust, utterly unaware of how you accidentally applied pressure over yuji’s crotch as he sucked in a breath through his nose and pulled away.

“fuck don’t do that baby don’t do that.”

you froze, hands quickly retracting back to your chest. “what? what do what?”

“oh—” he froze, eyes wide and cheeks pink as his mouth opened and closed like a fishy out of water.

he couldn’t possibly tell you why, not wanting to scare you away by admitting that you grinding down on his crotch like that made his dick jerk and mind haze in the most filthy and perverted way imaginable, feeling like he wanted to dig himself a big fat grave of horny shame to throw himself into as he watched your pretty eyes look at him the way that they were, wanting that same look but underneath him instead—

your bent knee cramped up once more and you hissed, moving your hips again except this time harder, yuji’s eyes flying open as the grip around your upper torso tightened, a strangled whiny hum escaping his throat.

your eyes snapped to his at the sound, now feeling something hard poking your clothed pussy as your brain finally put fucking two and two together, your hand slapping over your mouth in embarrassment at what you did and over your stupid delayed realization.

“oh! yuji i’m so sorry i— i didn’t realize—”

he shook his head rapidly, his cheeks and ears red as he shakily smoothed his hands over your hips comfortingly.

“no baby! don’t be sorry it’s okay!” he quickly kissed your forehead. “i—it’s me… it’s not you at all…”

but there was something else behind his eyes, something you couldn’t quite pinpoint as he just stared at the place where your body met his crotch, hands slowly gripping your hips tighter in a certain way and… and actually moving you now in a certain way that made you promptly realize he was grinding you against him, pleasure quickly twitching at your clit in response as flat hands flew to his chest to stabilize yourself.

“what— what are you doing?” you stammered, your chest heaving a little.

“s—sorry!…” he mumbled, eyes still trained to the same area. “it just— felt kind of good… so..”

yuji peered up at you, a cautious look on his face as he eyed you curiously with his pinky cheeks bright— hesitantly indulging in his overwhelming sick need for you, as simply making out was just not cutting it anymore ever since he got a taste of how something like this could feel a couple of seconds ago.

and your thoughts were identical to his.

timidly, you slid your hands up slowly to rest back on his manly shoulders, the rough material of his compression tee under your fingers making you literally squeeze your hole around nothing, eyes nervously darting around his face.

“o—okay…”

his hand came up to brush some of your soft hair over your shoulder, his thumb moving in to caress gently over your hot cheek.

“can i… can i do it again?”

you shakily nodded, and he gripped your hips again before moving you just like he did before, your crotch coming down to meet his slowly and cautiously as your mouth partially hung open at how good it actually felt, yuji staring at your expression with blown out pupils and nearly drooling over it.

but he wanted more, his hands moving you then to grind on him a little faster, his hips coming up to meet yours at the same time as you shyly met him halfway— quick and stuttery until all of a sudden you were full blown humping into each other like rabid dogs, your tiny whiny moans setting him the fuck off as he captured your lips again to make out with you, fearing if he let you quietly moan like that for his ears to selfishly drink up that he was going to end up busting in his pants.

“y—yuji…” you whimpered in between kisses.

“yeah baby?” his husky voice sent another electrical shock of ecstasy through your body, your fingers gripping his shirt in tiny fists as you didn’t even know what exactly you were pleading him for.

but he knew.

he wrapped his arms entirely around you and moved so that you were laying flat on your back now, yuji in between your legs as he kissed you sloppily while grinding himself back on you again, him literally mimicking how it would be to fuck you as you squeezed his biceps for support, your thin pajama shorts feeling his hard cock bulging from his pj pants and rutting against your cunt desperately with every hump.

yuji, literally trapped in a dimension of arousal and nasty fucking thoughts of you with every moan that slipped past your puffy soft lips, had him reaching and tugging down on the waist band of your shorts like an animal, your baby blue panties with a little ribbon bow in the middle making him nearly choke on his spit.

your hand quickly came to clasp around his wrist, stopping him.

“y—yuji my parents! i don’t know if we should—”

“oh fuck—” he whispered, looking up to the top of your staircase and down where your parents were sound asleep, gnawing so much on his bottom lip in cock blocked agony that he accidentally drew blood.

and you didn’t know why, but the urge was unforgiving as you reached up and cupped his hot sweaty cheeks, pulling his face down as you stuck your tongue out and licked over his bleeding lip.

yuji stared, eyes wide, before he let out a low guttural grown and shoved his face into the crook of your neck.

“fuck fuck fuck fuck—”

you were fucking killing him.

he rolled his leaky cock slowly into you again, his shoulders trembling at the cold feeling of his wet boxers that were literally covered in pre cum the moment your pretty plush thighs sat over his lap, you speaking up.

“m—maybe—”

he pulled back fast.

“yeah?”

“maybe if you just— look. that… that should be fine, right?”

“yeah yeah!” yuji’s invisible tail was practically wagging over your words. “look uh huh! just look baby.”

you bit your lip, slowly reaching down and tugging as both of yuji’s hands went flying down to help you, pulling them over your thighs and down to your ankles before setting them behind him on the couch with a soft thud.

you kept your thighs closed, shy and timid as you realized yuji hadn’t seen you like this yet… your cheeks flaring in embarrassment as he pulled your knees apart and gawked at the vision before him, yuji looking at you like you had built the entirety of rome by yourself with your bare hands.

you hadn’t noticed yet, but your panties were drenched— a patch of wet spread over your lips that literally outlined the anatomy of your pussy to a t, leaving little to the imagination as his eyes stayed locked on your clit in a complete trance.

“oh my god, pretty!…” he murmured, his index finger coming down to softly touch and rub your puffed up clit over your panties, you squeaking in response and slamming your thighs closed again.

“sorry! sorry!” he sputtered, frantic as he came down to peck little kisses on your cheek apologetically, your eyes shut, bashful. “did that hurt? i didn’t mean to i’m sorry—”

“n—no!” you shook your head and slowly peeked your eyes open. “it didn’t… just felt s—sensitive.”

his shoulders relaxed in relief, nodding, his eyes widening in delight when you spread your legs back open for him again, your panties literally stuck slick to your pussy at this point.

yuji’s fingers pressed against your folds, him wanting to just feel the way your little wet lips mushed up against his digits, his curious hand directing him slowly up over your clit and back down by your virgin hole as he breathed hard through his nose, trying to get himself to calm the fuck down over your cunt and not freak you out.

but what he was doing felt good, him having no idea as you pulled your bottom lip in between your teeth with your eyebrows screwed together in euphoria, his ears perking up at the sounds of your sweet little moans and whines the more pressure he applied to it.

and then he got an idea.

as you were distracted getting riled up by his fingers, yuji shoved his other hand under his wet pajama pants and boxers, pulling out his throbbing cock and pumping it a little as his angry tip leaked with every jerk— a drop oozing down and landing right on your nub before rolling over your panties as he breathed out a string of hushed curses.

yuji replaced the hand on your pussy with his cock, his length and tip pushing up in between your sopping cunt and back down, completely soiling your panties with a mix of your arousal and his pre cum as he rolled his hips into you again, you not noticing at all until both of his rough hands came to grip and squeeze over your inner thighs, your eyes fluttering open as you wondered why it felt way better than before, them bulging once you saw his thick long dick slipping and sliding hurriedly against your pussy.

“b—baby!” you moaned breathlessly, but yuji literally could not hear you as his dazed droopy eyes stayed focused on your swollen puss while he continued to rut.

“uh huh..?..” he panted. “what’s wrong sweetheart…”

your words lodged themselves in the back of your throat as a particular rough thrust made you choke and clamp your mouth shut, squeezing your eyes shut in response with your sensitive nub pulsing as you felt yuji’s leaky sticky cum all over you.

“does it— does it feel good?” his eyes finally trailed up to look at you, his already fucked out expression and flushed face forming a yummy pit in your stomach that you recognized as your release whenever you fingered yourself, except that feeling no where near as good as what you felt right fucking now.

“mhm..” you moaned and licked your lips.

yuji’s fingers slid up from your inner thighs and to the straps of your panties, fiddling and playing with them as he rolled his hips like a little perv, his tip at times falling and literally sinking into your gaping virgin hole a bit— your panties a thin stretchy wall that frustratingly stopped his cock from going, slipping back upward instead.

“baby…” he moaned lowly, whispering. “maybe we should just have sex right now…”

you gasped. “right now?! i don’t know yuji my— my parents— and we’ve never—”

he leaned down and sloppily kissed you, speaking in between each smack.

“they’re asleep it’s—” mmphf— “it’s okay—”

yuji already had his middle finger hooked under your wet panties as he started pulling down, you squeaking at the cold breeze hitting your bare clit.

“i want to but— hic!”

he rubbed his tip over your entrance a bit, pooling your juice up.

“what if— what if we get too loud? and they come downstairs—”

he shook his head. “i’ll keep on a lookout pretty don’t worry about it...” he murmured. “you just relax while i pump my cock in, yeah?”

you whimpered, nodding quickly and pathetically as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down flush against your chest, suctioning tiny sucks on his jaw to keep you from moaning the loudest you’ve moaned all night as he started pushing in, yuji’s mind in a literal fucking state of delirium as his dick was finally gonna be buried in your cute pussy after wanting it for so long.

you hiccuped against his jaw, your arms gripping him tighter as he stretched you out so good, feeling a little pinch in your walls that made you spread your legs wider in attempts at alleviating it.

“ohhhh fuckkkk baby—” he moaned loud and you quickly clamped a hand over his mouth.

“shhh honey shhh—”

“m’sorry m’sorry m’sorry—”

his voice was muffled against your hand as he pumped deeper, your squeal catching itself in your throat and his body fucking shivering at the way your tight slobbering walls sucked him in without him having to even push, your hole clenching around him and pumping more strings of stray pre cum out inside you.

“my god do that again please do that again—” he panted, reeling his hips back slowly and pushing in at a steady rhythm.

“d—do what?” you panted, your eyes closing in pleasure.

“squeeze— shit!— squeeze me please please—” he begged, pressing wet open mouthed kisses on your cheeks as he licked up your little overstimulated tears.

“like— like this?”

you clenched your hole again and his body jerked, his choked moans huffing in your ear as he rolled and snapped his hips faster.

“mm! yuji my god—” you squealed and he placed a hand over your mouth, the both of you now covering over each others as he proceeded to drill his hips in, the couch squeaking with every messy hit.

your hand tightened over his lips the louder he moaned, your eyes silently pleading with him to be a little quieter, but him too lost in the milking of his cock and the way your fucked out face looked as he couldn’t connect the dots with what you were asking of him, suddenly your blurry brain coming into reasonable consciousness for a second as you became aware of the fact that you weren’t even using protection.

“b—baby—” you muffled against his hand. “we’re not using a— mmm! c—condom we need—”

smack smack smack—

“shit i don’t— i don’t have one sweetheart.” he stifled, and yuji only went faster then, harder and jerky as his awkward virgin hips jolted you up and down on him, your eyes rolling back. “s’okay i’ll just pull out m’kay? i’ll pull out—”

his snappy pace brought your brain back into your previous dumb erotic state, nodding dazedly as he scooched his hand down and shoved his middle and ring finger inside your wet mouth, your tongue slobbering over his digits before your lips lewdly closed around them and sucked.

yuji was not keeping a lookout for your parents.

“oh fuck baby you look so fucking pretty doing that…” he choked. “you look so so pretty under me and taking my dick—”

“mhm..” you moaned around his fingers, drool seeping out of your mouth and down your chin as you felt like you were on the brink of cumming and squelching all over him.

“i’m gonna pull out soon okay? i feel—” pant— “i feel like i’m cumming—”

you pulled back from his fingers with a pop and licked your lips, nodding vigorously as you squeezed your eyes painfully shut, your release washing over you like a prickly wave with your mouth hung wide open and your vision blowing bright white.

but in the midst of you creaming, you accidentally clamped your thighs shut around yuji as he tried to slip his dick out.

“fuck! i can’t—” pant— “baby open your legs please im gonna— fuck fuck fuck!—”

yuji’s cum pummeled inside you and filled you the absolute brim as he gasped and whined in your ear, his balls draining so much of it into you that it took no time at all for it to slip past your hole and onto your couch below, the both of you heaving heavily with your clothes stuck against your sweaty sticky bodies.

“are you—” he swallowed. “are you okay baby? i’m sorry i came inside—”

“it’s okay it wasn’t you—” you tried to regulate your breathing. “it— it was my fault… i trapped you in…”

you sheepishly looked at him and gnawed at the inside of your cheek in shame, your face only making him lazily grin and press a hard loving kiss to your cheek.

“it’s okay. we can figure it out later!”

he peeled away from you and sat up, his softening cock still buried inside as he slowly pulled out and watched the rest of his cum spurt out, taking one of his shaky fingers and collecting some before pushing it back in your hole.

“don’t put it back in yujiiii!” you whined.

“sorry! sorry sorry—” he grabbed your wrist gently and kissed the back of your hand, his pinky cheeks vibrant as he looked at you with a wobbly shy smile. “i— i couldn’t help myself…”

you giggled. “s’okay honey.”

he laid his body back over yours, being mindful not to squish you as he leaned some of his weight on his arms, cutely pecking your puffy lips over and over until he was satisfied with the amount, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck after.

“m’glad my first time was with you yuji…” you murmured into his ear, your words causing his heart to literally bang against his chest as he felt like he was on cloud nine with you underneath him like that.

“i’m glad it was with you pretty.” he pushed, looking into your fucked out eyes with sincerity. “and i hope it stays that way. just my dick.”

you laughed loudly, your hand quickly coming up to cover your mouth as he giggled.

you pecked his nose sweetly and readjusted your hips, your cum covered pussy brushing against his cock again, the blood immediately rushing back to it faster than a speeding fucking bullet.

he traced a loving finger across your bottom lip delicately, a little grin on his face.

you quirked a brow. “what?”

“can we um—“ he quickly kissed you. “can we try doggy style right now?”

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taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):

@cupcaketeddybehr @soobiary @roachfun @waterfal-ling @saebaey @reneinii @luvvmae @cake-with-the-cream @pixie-dix @2ukika @cramelmacchiao @hy3phiren @fushigurioo @wil10wthetree

[tonycries]

SOOO ANXIOUS

Synopsis. When he’s a 10 but the pulI-out game is non-existent.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, creampíes, breéding, breaking the condóm, overstím, Gojo’s powers going haywire, spítting, cúmplay, NÉEDY BOYS, marathon séx, chokíng, SLIGHT dàddy kínk (Nanami’s), jealousy (Sukuna), first times (Choso), limitless, exhíbitionísm (Sukuna), true form! Sukuna, dp, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.9k (wild omg)

A/N. Ty to that one anon for reminding me of Gojo and his limitless, I just had to. Hope y’all have a lovely day <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - When life gives you…

Dammit, Toji knew he should’ve looked over your shopping list closer. He knew he should’ve spent just a little longer at the convenience store searching for that special brand the two of you always used - the only one that could fit his massive size - instead of rushing home like a madman to fuck you sloppily into your silken sheets.

He knew. 

But, well, feeling that thin excuse of rubber that was once coating his achy cock snap open - crashing his raw, leaky tip right against the bottom of your syrupy pussy, bruising - he certainly didn’t have any regrets either. 

“Whoops.” you hear Toji’s ragged, unapologetic huff against your ear. Lips quirking up into a smirk when you’re looking up at him in question with those cockdrunk eyes of yours. “Broke the condom again.” he explains. 

And as if to confirm, he’s sliding a calloused palm right down to the bulging area of your slit, sliding his eager fingers along the edge of that glossy piece of tattered rubber, “Now what do you suppose we do about that, ma?”

What?

And it’s all you can do to whirl your glassy gaze down at where he was already admiring. The sinful sight of your ravaged pussy winking lewdly up at you - puffy lips spread to bulge about his angry, red cock. Beading a sheen of your sweet sweet juices down his length, being swallowed up greedily. His raw length. 

“Toji–” you hiss, digging the balls of your heels at those dimples down the bottom of his spine, making him hiss in delight. “You bought the wrong ngh- brand of condoms? Again? This is the fifth time this week.”

And oh he found it so cute when you’re mad at him like this, pretending like your absolute slut of a cunt didn’t just get wetter at the feeling of his cock throbbing against your walls. Milking him so good that he can’t help but let his addicted hips move in lingering thrusts, jamming into your g-spot over and over like a little apology. 

He’s humming, “Accident- ouch!” 

The thick head of his cock pulses even deeper inside you when you give his muscled pecs a bratty smack. “Fine fine- I may have uh- rushed jus’ a bit.” As if to wipe away that tiny bit of guilt in his words, Toji’s hips are thrashing harder into you, merciless. “But heyyyy—” he leans down to drag his lips against your own in a messy kiss. “Y’know what they say, when ngh- l-life gives you the wrong pack of condoms, give her a creampie.”

You narrow your eyes, “Y-you’re such a-”

But within a millisecond, he’s dragging his swollen cock out of your snug cunt - barely, just enough to pull off those flimsy dredges of whatever was left of his condom after those bullying thrusts he’d been planting on your poor pussy. 

“I’m jus’ being resourceful, woman” Toji chokes out when you bite down on his collarbone at the audacity. Before plowing on, words dripping with faux-apology, “Ahhh what to do, such a shame I forgot to get the r-right condoms. Whatever shall we do, ma?”

Before diving straight back into your heavenly entrance, purposefully taking his time to rub against every hidden nook and cranny of your walls. Toji throws his head back, defined abs bowing into you, “I know. How about this time insteada pulling out, you finally let me cum inside?”

And you knew Toji had such a mean cock, and fucked you even meaner. But fuck this was ridiculous. 

“Ngh- T-Toji!” you’re keening with every heavy smack of his balls against your stinging ass, being rocked further and further up the drenched mattress with the force of his sharp jabs. “You’re lucky you feel too ngh- good this way.”

“Heh, see? What did I tell ya? Now fuckin’ come-” Thick fingers wrap around your hips, pulling your back down, down, down - deep to spearhead his cock into your sweet spots. “-here-” Rendering you unable to escape, unable to do anything but be splayed out like such a slut while he’s molding your cunt to the shape of his length. Frenzied. Crazed. The complete opposite of the smugly gentle kisses he presses to your teary cheeks, “-and take my actual cock like a good girl, doll. Lemme make you a mama.”

The thought has you letting out such pitiful whimpers, thighs quivering. “Hah- m’gonna cum. M’so close, Toji-”

Gripping him so tight you could feel the outline of his prominent veins, the sensitive spots along his shaft. Toji’s brows furrow in concentration, letting out a sultry drawl of words, “Yeah? Is this pretty pussy gonna cum?” He reaches down to toy a long index around your neglected clit, sending your eyes rolling back with a moan. “Gonna be stuffed full of my seed like she’s supposed to?”

You can only get out a few bleary nods, and usually Toji would tease you a little more - have you begging and crying. But right now he’s so fucked. 

The feeling of your squeezing walls too tight, the crashing of his sensitive tip against your spongy g-spot too much that the only thing he can grit out is a low, “Then cum- cum f’me, doll.”

 He feels it before you realize you’re cumming, just running on wave upon wave of pure electricity running down your spine while Toji ruts into you so animalistically. Reeling back only for a few sloppy, solid half-thrusts - because you couldn’t bear to separate too much from your cunt - before spilling into you.

And - oh, he was only mad he didn’t do this sooner.

“Oh this is the stuff- fuuuuck this- is- what I needed- take it.” Thick rope upon rope of his hot cum, decorating your saturated walls. So much that it was gushing out of you with each pump of Toji’s hips fucking it deeper inside you - the thought of pulling out not even daring to cross his mind. Oozing. Messy. “Take it all. Make me a daddy again, why don’t ya.”

After all, he did pick the wrong brand for a reason, right?

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Family matters!

The office can be loud - given, it’s hours past everyone’s shift and you and Nanami were the only ones cooped up in his office working overtime right now. 

But still, the office can be loud - which is why Nanami Kento isn’t exactly sure he hears you correctly the first time. Not until you keep looking at him with that sultry, determined graze, spit-glossed lips moving to repeat, “I want a baby, Ken.”

It only takes three seconds for him to lock the door and shove you against the cool mahogany of his desk, bunching up that cute pencil skirt of yours at the waist. Which, Nanami thinks, unbuckling his expensive pants to swipe his angry tip between your slobbering slit, is three seconds too late in his opinion.

“You really wan’ me to disrespect your cute cunt this way, my pretty lil’ wife?” he’s purring into your ear, just a soft reassurance before he absolutely fucking ruins you. “Because m’not going hah- easy on you this time.”

And maybe you’re a genius, maybe you’re an idiot who doesn’t know what’s good for her - because you flash him a grin, “So are ya gonna fuck me or not?”

Soon enough, that grin was turning into your jaw sagging open lewdly, drool trickling down the corner of your lips with every bullying squeeze of Nanami’s massive cock inside you. Stretching out every inch of your gummy walls around his swollen girth. 

“Oh God—” you’re moaning, eyes rolling to the back of your head with each harsh ram. Wiggling hips mindlessly torn between running away and fucking yourself back onto your husband’s bludgeoning cock for more. 

He’s shutting you up with a gentle suck on your candied lips, humming into the kiss, “Jus’ ‘Ken’ works fine, my love.”

And it takes you a few seconds to register his remark - a few, dizzying seconds of being spearheaded by Nanami’s fat tip. Roaming, heavy balls smacking the fat of your ass when he angles his hips just right to ruthlessly kiss against that one sweet spot he knows you love so much. Swirling his furious tip around to find-

“Oh fuck!”

There.

Merciless. Nanami Kento is absolutely merciless. 

And all you can do is scramble your jittery fingers towards his desk, his forgotten work documents, him - your body is moving before your heated mind when you reach behind to drag Nanami in closer by his yellow, speckled tie. 

All the way until his plump lips were mere millimeters away from yours, “I actually think ‘daddy’ would work better, no?”

Oh. Oh, fuck.

He was completely and utterly fucked. 

It takes the both of you by surprise when a large hand comes up to your neck, thick fingers squeezing hard around your pretty throat. The cold metal of Nanami’s wedding ring burning into your skin when he shuts up those filthy words of yours. 

“Ken-”

“Shut up. Sh-shut up, darling I’m- fuck I’m-” is all Nanami’s able to stutter out before his hips grow sloppy. And you could feel the way his twitching cock massaged at your plushy walls, the wet sounds of skin-and-skin becoming more and more languid before-

Nanami doesn’t think he’s ever cum this embarrassingly fast in his life. Never did it only take him a few more mean, calculated thrusts into your heavenly cunt until he’s spurting thick wisps of his seed. Coating your poor pussy in a sheen of his cum - of him. 

He whimpers, bending his long legs at the knees to grind up deeper into your, feeling the warm slosh of his own seed inside. 

“Fuck Ken–” you wheeze, throat raw from the unforgiving hand still around it. Vision spotty and you feel like floating - or maybe that’s just the way Nanami had you lifting off the ground with each relentless ram. “Gonna be the ngh- fuckin’ death of me.”

“Hah, you’re gonna be the hngh- death of me.” he groans, free hand coming up to slide his glasses further up his nose. Shit, if Nanami angled his head just right he could see that sinful, sinful trail of cum down your legs. Glistening under the dim office lighting, forming a little pool right at that crevice between your thigh. “Yeah oh fuck- m’not getting out of this alive. Not with you, darling.”

And oh you should’ve known. Should’ve had an inkling at the way Nanami was still achingly rock-hard between your legs. At the way he innocently grazes a thumb across your sloppy hole, pooling the heady mix of cum and slick on the pads of his fingers - before shoving them right back in. Skirting around that depraved shaft of his to squeeze whatever dredges of seed he could get his hands on back inside you.

It was making such a mess - with each bullying pump of Nanami’s fingers at your dripping cunt, cum was gushing out of your wrecked hole. Slow, and torturous. 

Exactly the way he was moving back inside of you now, reeling his toned hips back to smash right into your sweet spots. Dragging that orgasm out of you - out of him, “Gotta make sure it takes, right?”

Suddenly, you have the feeling that it’s going to be a long, long night working overtime.

♡ GETO SUGURU - The egoist

“C’mon, gorgeous.” that low, satiny purr has your cunt quivering traitorously. “You’re really gonna hold out on me like this?”

It takes every bit of willpower in you to tear your eyes from the absolutely sinful sight below you - because Geto Suguru was so unfairly pretty - even with his wrists tied helplessly below you to the bedposts. So delicately flushed a cute pink from his high cheekbones, right down to his thick, sobbing tip. Looking up at you through half-lidded, glassy eyes, peeking from under his long hair. 

Hair you thread through to gather in a harsh grip, “Mhm, Sugu, if you’re gonna be so cocky when m’letting you cum inside me then I jus’ hafta- ngh!”

Your foolish little threat is dying in your chest when your beloved boyfriend is wrenching his hips up. Having you teetering precariously, clinging onto his sculpted abs when he uses them to fuck his cock up into you slobbering cunt. 

“Hah!” his dark eyes widen in delight at the sight of how readily your slutty cunt was making way for him. Puffy folds being split apart to swallow every fucking inch he gives. “Just look at what a filthy lil’ cunt you have, my girl. So needy despite all your talk.”

“Th-that’s cheating.” you tug on his soft silky restraints. Eyeing the way they were firmly digging into his milky skin. “Maybe I ah- won’t- let you-”

Another ragged jut of his hips, the thick curve of Geto’s swollen cock spearing into you, pulsing against your sensitive spots until you couldn’t think. He’s gasping, “No!” Letting out such a pained grunt when your spongy walls cling onto him like a second skin. “No no no no- jus’ fuck m’gonna have you begging for my cum.”

And if Geto had his hands untied you just knew he’d be gifting your sobbing cunt a punishing smack! So that’s exactly what you do - letting out such a teasing whine of his name when you slap the pads of your fingers down across your sopping slit. Stopping right below your clit - exactly the way he does.

“Still real cocky, aren’t you?” you purr, so sultry and low, sending a fresh wave of precum painting at your bruised cervix. 

“Fuuuck- you little minx. This won’t- ngh-” he hisses. “You’re gonna fuckin’ regret holdin’ out on me.”

There it was again - that little accusation. The same little mantra that’d been falling from Geto’s glossed-over lips ever since you tied his wrists together and straddled him after a few too many goading comments on how you won’t be able to “handle him” if he came inside.

Scoffing, “Yeah yeah that’s what a sore loser-”

Fuck, it seems he’s well and fully intent to not have you run your pretty mouth. 

Pushing past your feeble little ring of resistance to draw at your honeyed walls. Running his angry tip along each and every sweet spot he’d so meticulously mapped out before.

“I warned you, gorgeous.” His breaths are wrenching out so strained, low groans leaving him with how your plushy walls were trying to suck out something delicious. “Warned you it was- ngh was gonna be too much. And now look at you.” He’s chuckling, so utterly unapologetic. “Fucked dumb and taking my cock like the slut you are. How’d you feel about that, huh?”

It’s so embarrassing. 

Embarrassing how good you were feeling, stars behind your eyes every time Geto is smashing deep into your core. Embarrassing how you can barely even hold yourself up at this point, instead collapsing right into the valley between Geto’s pecs, lips drooling with need. 

Embarrassing how you can’t even answer his question.

And this is what makes him smile - full and content. Craning his head down to kiss softly at your slack lips, “That’s what I thought. Now beg for it, beg for my cum.”

“Wh-what?” you snap your eyes open. Moaning lowly at the drag and pull of his fat shaft, stretching out your narrow channel with each ram of his hips. Angling your boneless body just right for those tufts of black at his toned base to rub against your clit so obscenely. 

“You hear me. Or you can’t hear as well as- ngh- speak now, huh? Beg for it.”

“No.”

Geto falters his hips slowly at this, “Beg for it.”

“No.”

Of course, this only makes him stop completely. Rolling his eyes in such a languid way at your clear disappointment, “Then fuck me yourself if you wanna be so mouthy.”

The result is - for Geto - the hottest fucking thing he’s ever seen. With you whining, tears springing to your eyes as you try to ride him as best you could. Yearning, craving for those bullying thrusts he’d been planting on your sweet spots. Ass jiggling when it smacks against his pelvis lazily, hips stuttering up and down his veiny cock, weeping your needy juices as you sob, “No- please I take t- ngh- back. I want your cum, Sugu. Please?”

“That’s more like it.”

And no sooner are the words out of your lips before Geto’s thrusting up into you haphazardly. Brows furrowed, abs screaming with the strain of just how hard he was pounding you. Again. And again - more to teach you a lesson, more to drive the two of you insane. Again and again and-

It only takes a few more of those lingering, ruthless kisses of Geto’s leaky tip against your g-spot for the two of you to be cumming. 

Your gummy walls convulsing, sucking up every wet glob of cum shot against them, against your womb. Geto’s full, heavy balls filling you up in mere seconds with how much he was painting your poor cunt white. Dripping down the side of your pussy lips, creating such a mess all over his base that he just can’t help but-

RIP!

Your back is hitting the mattress before you know it, Geto’s large figure looming over you- how? When did he-

“Ya really thought those would stop me from-” he takes the time to spread open your trembling legs, spying down at the mess of cum leaking out of your gaping hole now. Thick, gushing dredges of him - all him. He’s shuffling down, hot breath hitting your abused cunt, “-having my favorite meal?”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Made for this.

Slam!

You’re both jolting - you at the deafening sound of your best friend’s hand slamming down on the headboard, making it creak at the sheer power. Him at those sultry little words that had just left your glossy lips, sending all the blood in his body right down to where he was buried between your shaky legs. 

Before you can react, Choso’s looming his face closer - eyes wide, jaw sagging open, voice just a whisper when he asks, “What did you say?”

And through it all, it’s a wonder you’re managing to catch your breath. Because Choso’s unforgiving cadence was barely letting up, pushing in long, solid strides of his hips to drag his fat cock against the plush of your gummy walls. “I-I said since it’s your first time n’ I wanna make this special, you should-” Looking him right in his pussydrunk eyes when you say, “-cum in me, Cho.”

Just like before, that honeyed request pulls out such a visceral reaction from him. His dewy eyes scrunch shut, thick tip kissing so deep inside your womb when he twitches animalistically. Sliding across to mark you from the inside out. 

And somewhere in your fucked-out mind, you register the snap! of wood breaking above you, Choso’s biceps flexing with movement. “Fuuuck, baby, you can’t hah- s-spring that on me like that.”

It was true - a few too many bad sex scenes on movie night, and a few too little lingering touches left you wanting more. Wanting to steal away your cute best friend’s virginity once and for all, and then some.

“Why not?” you bat your lashes so deceivingly innocently up at him. Making his poor jaw drop even further, hips stuttering forwards sloppily. “No no no no, Cho. You’re my best friend and you deserve the best.” you’re tutting, tightening your legs around his sculpted waist. Preventing any escape - as if he could ever want to run away from this heaven. “I need you to cum in me.”

It happens too fast for you to even register - before you know it, two large hands of Choso’s are hoisting your limp legs up onto his toned shoulder. Upper half bending down, down, down until he had you folded in half in such a mean mating press. 

“F-fuck don’t-” he gasps out, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the lewd change in angle. The curving divot of his head brushing up against that hot g-spot of yours, raw with so many hits. Greedy eyes locked on the way your puffy cunt was swallowing him whole. “-don’t say that! Was enough havin’ you offer your pretty lil’ cunt f’me to fuck.”

Smirking, “Cum in me, Cho. Please?”

And fuck Choso was sure he was going to pass out this very second. Collapse on top of you like an utterly fucked ragdoll. But, no - and he doesn’t know what’s more embarrassing - instead, his heavy balls are squeezing sloppily, making such a mess of you inside when he streams out thick spurts of cum.

Eyes ringing, vision spotty when he’s pouring such heavy amounts to paint your cunt white. It’s all he can do to breathe, “Fuck- fuck fuck fuck m’cumming m’sorry m’cumming m’cumming- ah- ngh-”

“F-fuck yeah give it t’me.” you murmur heatedly, drool dripping down the corner of your mouth with each pump inside reaching your lungs. Sending dredges of seed slobbering down Choso’s throbbing length, forming a pool at your inner thighs. “Give it all to me, you’re doing so good for your first time, baby.” 

Your honeyed praises stick to him like a veil of sin, having him shudder out little whines of your name. “No m’not!”

“Hm? What’re you fuuuck right there- what are you talking about? Yes, you are.” you thread your fingers through his long, damp locks. Pushing away the dark strands sticking to his forehead to connect it with yours, “Doing so good f’me.”

Choso’s breaths come out in feverish puffs, and despite having velvety strings of his cum sloshing inside your walls right now, he was still hard. Still painfully hard with each overstimulated shove into your dripping cunt. 

“Dreamt of this for so long.” he drawls, ragged. A soft thumb coming down to draw on your clit, “Been wanting you for so long n’ you have no idea. M’ jus- fuck your pussy is just too perfect, my girl.” That little confession has you clenching around him so tight. Forcing Choso to hike up a knee to stretch your thighs so far apart it burned, letting him accelerate his hips. “Too much that I can’t keep it- hah- together. S’like she’s made f’me. Jus’ wanna fill you up until you can’t take it- ngh-” 

A particularly harsh kiss to your sweet spot has Choso’s seed oozing out of your puckered hole even more. So slutty in the way that you were still clamping down to milk the soul out of him all through it. 

His pretty pink lips fall into a soft oh! at the sight. Movements languid, hypnotized when the erratic, slender fingers on your clit move down. Swirling at the treacled ring of cum around his hilt, where your pussy lips were mashing against his toned pelvis. 

You have half the mind to wonder if Choso even realized what he was doing - whether he was even breathing - as he raises those fingers to your mouth. Immediately parting your kiss-bitten lips to suck his glossy fingers clean.

The eager, lewd squelches from above and below have him pushing your body up to thrust even harder - hissing, “Oh you really ngh- made f’me.”

“Well then…” you start, muffled. And your tone already has Choso gulping. Waiting on your every word. “Why don’t you cum inside me again to make up for it and the broken headboard?”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - HEIR

Now, it’s not often that Ryomen Sukuna feels threatened. Him? The infamous king of curses? Don’t make him laugh, everyone knows that you’re his pretty lil’ slut, his favorite human.

But it’s times like this, with your pretty self sat where you belong - right on his fat, achy cocks, your limp legs dangling off his luxurious throne, crying and begging for him to just move - he’s reminded that maybe not everyone knows. 

“Pleeease, Kuna.” you’re dragging out of your throat, voice wrecked with need. “Jus’ need to- to cum!” And he thinks it’s so adorable how you’re trying to fuck your hips up and down on his lengths, matching tips so thick that they rut against your sweet spots without even trying. 

It’s useless, with the tight, black-nailed grip he has on your stuttering hips. Making such a mess slobbering down his cocks.

“Hmmm, I dunno if you deserve it, brat.” his smug facade is laced with something else - something dangerous now. “After all…” he’s nosing down your racing pulse, breathing in as if he could smell the lust in your blood. “-you looked real cozy with that minister from earlier.”

You’re gasping - whether from his words, or from the way his curved shafts twitch so furiously inside you, you’re not sure. 

“Wh-what?”

He scoffs, “You know what m’talkin’ about.”

And you did - unfortunately. Hazy mind showing off shreds of memories from that meeting you accompanied Sukuna to earlier today. The one where, despite being dangling off his arms the entire time, one unsavory new minister managed to throw a few crass remarks your way. Something about how good you must be and how he’d give you an-

“Heir.” It’s all that Sukuna is spitting out before thrusting up into you. Deep, slow. Like he knew you were thinking about that little altercation today and wanted to fuck out every thought of it out of your pretty lil’ mind. “That little scum had the audacity to talk to my woman about how he’d have an heir by now. As if I’m not fucking you right.”

Two thick fingers come up to smush your cheeks together into a pathetic pout, spitting into your open mouth, “I’d have killed him if you didn’t fuckin’ stop me, human.”

“B-because-” you’re crying out, eyes rolling to the back of your head with each smash of his fat tip against the bullseye of your g-spot, the other marking up your cervix. “I didn’t want to cause a scene in front of-”

“So what if I caused a scene?” Sukuna’s sharp canines are nipping down on your wobbly lower lip. The curve of his dicks stretching you so thin. Taut. Until your clingy walls molded to his shape. “Do you deny me the right to defend my woman? My future heir?”

The sopping wet sounds of your poor hole being ravaged are almost too loud for you to hear his last words. Almost.

You gasp, face lolling up from where they were pressed up against his sculpted pecs. “Wait- future heir?”

And oh how Sukuna loved the sound of that on your lips. A raw groan curling up from his throat, biting his lip while he fucks you so thorough. So purposeful. 

At this point the only thing you’re managing to get out are pitchy whines, being bounced up and down like some sextoy on the king’s cocks. His massive girths tattooing your walls with each and every twin vein and ridge.

“Mhm, ya like that?” Sukuna grins, slacking down the throne to jut his muscled abdomen upwards. “Wan’ me to breed this cute cunt with my heir?”

The only response he’s getting are your nails raking red, angry marks down his tan skin, which clearly wasn’t enough for him.

“I asked you a question, brat.” This earns you a sharp smack! to the fat of your ass, his nasty cadence only speeding up. You’re barely even lucid anymore, just being slid along his towering lengths. “Use your words n’ fuckin’ tell- me-”

“Hngh!” you’re screaming out at a particularly harsh jab against your g-spot. Big fat tears rolling down your cheeks when you mewl, “Yes! Yes I wan’ it so bad, ngh- for you to fill me up. Breed me until- ngh until everyone knows.”

The honeyed grin you’re given is something you know doesn’t bode well, Suknua’s eyes darting somewhere behind you. But that’s the last thing on your mind while he spits a thick glob of saliva on your cunt. Goading, “Well if you’re that desperate, woman.”

And it’s dizzying - if you thought Sukuna was fucking you thoughtless before then you weren’t ready for right now. 

“Fuck.” he grits out. “Yes that bastard got one thing right- I just wanna- oh-” And then he’s spitting, another steady stream of saliva right on your struggling cunt. “Wanna breed this pussy- until they know m’the one that fucks you right.” He’s rubbing a palm along your stomach, drawing a line where he could feel the bulge of his swollen cocks. “Have you round and glowing with my heir.” Moving up, up, up to cradle your bouncing tits into his greedy mouth. “Have these hah- filled with milk. And have you filled with me. They’ll all see you and see me. I did this.” 

Sukuna’s red, glowing eyes are the last thing you see before everything flashes white. And then you’re cumming - barely having the capacity to give a fair warning other than, “Oh- f-fuck Kuna m’gonna.”

It takes you a moment to realize that he is as well. The squelches from your delicious cunt only increasing twofold when he’s gifting you with thick spurts of his seed. Too much. Both fat heads throbbing in staccato with your high, so furiously before they’re erupting in a gush of pure white. Too much. 

“Ahhh yes, s’where you belong.” Sukuna breathes, voice a few octaves higher with how much he was still cumming. Hips thrusting to force such filthy movements to pump his potent seed deeper and deeper - sure enough to mark you from the inside out. “Fucked dumb on m’cocks and hah- ready to make me an heir. One to kill off all the trash I can’t.” Letting it slobber down onto his abs, pooling at the muscles. Hot loads overspilling from your tight pussy now. Shit, it’s a sight so sinful that Sukuna has to tear his eyes away to look at that slightly ajar door, brows quirking at the aghast face outside he meets. “Won’t you agree, minister?”

♡ GOJO SATORU - “Do you hate me?”

“Huh- what?” you’re blinking, unsure if you even heard that correctly. Eyes darting from Gojo’s pouty pink lips to the way he was still bludgeoning his aching cock inside you, “Of course I don’t, Toru? What’s with the- hah-”

Apparently, your answer wasn’t good enough for the great Gojo Satoru, and it’s not long into your bumbling, half-drunk sentence before he’s smashing his fat tip purposefully against that honeyed g-spot he loved so much. Dragging out such cute moans from your throat while he babbles, “Then why are you- hah telling me to pull out?”

It takes everything in you to wrench your eyes open to meet his dead-serious expression, “What?”

Gojo scoffs at how fucking long it was taking your cockdrunk mind to comprehend him. Pushing your knee back further to spread your sopping cunt, squeezing his thick girth inside like some cocksleeve. “Why-” he cuts himself off with a bullying little thrust. “-are you telling- me to fuckin’ pull out.” And he sounds so genuinely devastated, voice a pitch higher than normal, breaking ever-so-slightly at the end. “Do you hate me now, sweetheart?”

“You fuckin’-” you’re spitting. Nails digging into the sides of Gojo’s pale neck when you’re pulling him closer, hissing into his panting mouth, “-idiot. I told you to- ngh- to pull out because I don’t trust that limitless of yours to work.”

“But, my girl—” he whines, burying his face to lick up the crook of your neck. “Don’ wanna leave to ah- get condoms right now. M’the strongest, when has it not worked?”

And it’s like the sole reminder of this fact is enough to spur your boyfriend on even more, because with a ragged growl he’s falling back onto his thighs - taking your boneless body right along with him. Greedy pussy sat so pretty and needy around his cock, sinking deeper and deeper down every long inch.

You could barely even feel it - limitless. Just a slight, steady pulse of jujutsu, atoms standing at attention all around your tangled bodies.  

“Oh!” you keen at the feeling of Gojo’s heft veins making their mark all along your gummy walls. Gravity sliding you down his swollen cock until your puffy folds were meeting his sharp pelvis in a messy kiss. “Y-you’re really not fuuuck- backing down, huh?”

As if to prove your point, a large palm comes up around your back, wrenching your two hands behind to pin them behind your back. Leaving you completely bare and helpless under his obscene will. 

“Nope.” Gojo hums, popping the “p”. Flashing you a fucked-out grin - and oh he looks so pretty, so wrecked with his snowy locks disheveled, cheeks a blushing pink, lips spit-glossed and worried. “How could I be when my girl- hngh feels like this?”

“S’not gonna-”

“It is-” he’s interrupting in a syrupy tone, so drunk off the way you were complaining about his limitless but taking every thrust he gives so well. “S’gonna work- it will work hngh- trust me, sweetheart.” Thumbing apart your bulging swollen folds even further to toy over your pulsing clit, “Shit- love it when you squeeze me like that. Hah- and you expected me to leave this n’ go get condoms fuckin’ right.” With every hungry thrust he’s gifting your poor pussy, Gojo’s mouth is running a mile a minute against your racing pulse. Heavy tongue lolling, eyes rolling to the back of his head with every passing millisecond you’re sucking the ever-loving soul out of him. “As if I’d wanna hah- leave this. It’ll work-”

Somewhere in-between the lingering ruts, a hand of yours runs through Gojo’s damp tresses, tugging on it to make him look. Difficult, somehow. 

“Toru…” you grip harder on his soft strands, dragging him away from his little hiding spot. Relenting, he’s slowly raising his eyes to look at you and- “Why are you-”

Oh. Shit.

If you thought Gojo was ruined before then you weren’t ready for this - his half-lidded eyes glowing, crackling with power, babbling lips sagging open in ecstacy. And if you didn’t know any better you’d have thought that the lights in your bedroom flickered dangerously just a bit. He gasps, eyes boring into yours, “What- what was I sayin’ again?”

Oh he was so fucked - and you were, too. 

Because your mouth is moving before your mind, feeling so dirty when you muse, “Told me how you were gonna- ngh- drop limitless n’ fill me up, Toru–”

Your jaw is prying open with his mean little tempo. Fat, greedy cock messing up your insides with how haphazardly he was spearing inside in weighty, animalistic thrusts. Leaving just enough time for that divot on his angry tip to peck at your sweet spots, before shoving his entire length back in and out again. Over and over and-

It only takes a mere split-second of Gojo’s limitless faltering, of him being enveloped in all your dripping heaven, before he’s cumming. And cumming so hard, gushing out so much in thick, hot streams of his heady seed.

It’s filling you up from the inside, stretching your walls taut. Sloppy. Sinful. And you can do nothing but reach your high as well, flashes of white-hot pleasure behind your eyes. Or maybe that was Gojo.

His creamy white cum kissing you inside, drooling out of your ravaged hole with every mindless push of his hips. Forcing it deeper and deeper and oh fuck, he could do this forever. Fuck condoms. Fuck limitless. He tells you that - rattles it off into your open mouth a little over fifteen times watching the coating of his cum pool a glossy sheen down your legs. Sloshing down in thick, lewd globs.

“Told you so.” you scoff. 

“That- that was just the practice round! Best out of three?”

“...”

A/N. Picked the title out for no purpose other than self-indulgence I’m ngl.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[eupheme]

If you’re still taking requests, I’ve been thinking about reader & wade introducing logan to sex toys - maybe how to use a vibrator on reader or what a fleshlight is…? 👀👀

ooh anon! I kept thinking about this, it was so fun (I imagine Wade is like - super pro toy-usage, while Logan is like, reluctant but will indulge if encouraged) I hope this fits the vibe you’re looking for! 💖 thanks for sending this in!

boys and their toys | logan howlett x f!reader x wade wilson

750 words | poly relationship, piv, edging, overstim, toys (vibrator, fleshlight, references to dildos and monsterfucking)

“-and this,” Wade wiggles the device between his fingers, “Is a what we call a vibrator. Well, Womanizer, baby, if you want to be specific-“

“I know what one is, Wade.” Logan scowls, “I just don’t fucking need one.”

“Boy, don’t try to front!” He gasps, “Of course we don’t need one. They’re just for fun. You know what that is, right?”

“Don’t make fun of him, babe.” You admonish, shifting your hips. Inching Wade deeper, from where he’s buried into you.

“I’ll try something else,” He sighs, grabbing another toy from the box - the silicone dildo wobbling as he holds it aloft, “Do you think I need this? No. But does it help me fulfill my fantasy of being a virgin sacrifice for the big bad werewolf, and I’m so fucking good that he keeps me as his bride instead of killing me?”

“Werewolves aren’t real,” Logan’s face pinches, lip curling over teeth, “And you can’t die.”

“You hear that? He’s kink-shaming me.” Wade groans as he slumps - the movement causing another shift of his hips, pleasure sparking through you.

“H-He doesn’t get it. Show him,” You coo, “Or I’m going to kill you, if you keep teasing me like this.”

He grins.

You’ve been keeping his cock warm for the last ten minutes, as he took you both on a little trip through his toy chest.

The device buzzing in his hand, as he thumbs the button. Anticipation curling in your stomach, as his hips begin to move.

“Okay, the great thing about this one,” Wade hums, “Is that I can keep our girl nice and full-“

His hips press flush, making you gasp.

“-while letting this little lady do all the work. Keeps her coming, pun intended.”

The toy touches down against your clit, and you gasp with need. The subtle rock of his hips, as he adjusts the pressure to what you like.

It has you whining immediately. Muscles clenching as you chase the suction, eyes already going wide and hazy with bliss.

His free hand palming at your tits. Dipping to grasp at your hip - using the leverage to start a lazy rhythm.

No more than a few minutes passing before your back is bowing. A loud cry as the sensations ripple through you, Wades grunting as you clamp down around him. Feeling how you pulse around his cock, an echo of the toy he still holds against you.

“One.” Wade coos, as you squirm - working through the overstimulation, “What’s our record? Double-digits, right?”

“Eleven,” You whine, But it took all night.”

“Let’s aim for a baker’s dozen.” His teeth glint, with his smile, “We’ve got time.”

Logan’s eyes are hungry, as he watches. His own hand wandering, wrapping around himself. Tugging his swollen cock to the rhythm of Wade’s slow pace.

“And you-” Wade tosses something clear Logan’s way, “Can use this. Already lubed it up for you.”

Logan grunts, looking at the toy. The long, cylindrical shape. Transparent innards, with silicone opening that clearly indicates what it’s mimicking.

“You really want me to use this.” It comes out flat - not a question.

“Do I-“ Wade sighs, “Yes. We do. So get your Jackman on and start pumping, or just admit that you’re not as open-minded as you keep pretending.”

His jaw works. Another sideways glance at the you, thumb testing the opening. Feeling how it gapes, as he tugs.

Aware of both sets of eyes on him. The look you fix him with - greedy, as you lips part with a pant.

With a glare shot at Wade, he lines the toy up. Slowly pressing it down, as his tip sinks past the slick opening.

A bitten back moan, as it grips him. Nothing compared to the warmth of your pussy, but better than his hand. Hips lifting as he pushes himself deep, eyes flashing up at the ragged sound you make as you watch.

“Lo,” You breathe, “Fuck, you barely fit.”

You can see where there’s a finger’s width of skin at the base of his cock. How the shape of him distorts inside the silicone as it stretches, but it’s unmistakeable how he fills it completely.

His brow furrows, “That bad?”

“No, baby,” You laugh, “It’s really fucking hot.”

You twist, as you reach over. Hand wrapping around his, coaxing him to move it up and down as Wade fucks you. Bottoming out again and again, his biceps flexing as he takes over.

“‘s not bad.” Logan admits, as he slowly relaxes. Finally letting himself enjoy the show, as a second wave of pleasure starts to crest inside you.

“I’m not coming in it, though.” It’s growled out, but breaks on a rough gasp, “Coming in one of you, or not at all.”

“Oh peanut.” Wade grins, as you moan - clenching around him again.

“We wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[tender-rosiey]

hiii this is my first time requesting so i dont know how specific or vague i should get :,) but maybe a scenario between sukuna and reader on how their wedding ceramony(and maybe afterparty) went? i saw an edit of sukuna with lana del rey’s margaret and immediately thought you could write this scenario since all of your husband!sukuna works are chef’s kiss “:D

true oath — ryomen sukuna x f!reader

a/n: so glad you like my husband!sukuna works anon and I hope you like this as well 🥹 ALSO special thanks to @lexiene and @camelnose for beta-reading BIG HUGS TO BOTH OF YOU SRSLY MWUAHHH

the servants scurry all around the room, trying to finish as much as possible in the time frame they have been given.

meanwhile, you are sat in front of your vanity with your personal maid who is putting the final touches to your makeup. you let out a soft giggle at the franticness of the others then look at the mirror to examine yourself.

the kimono had been handpicked by sukuna himself, something he believed was only logical—given that, according to him, nobody knows you as well as he does, and of course, that you’re getting married to him.

you thought he was being overconfident in his abilities, but to your surprise, he really did end up choosing something that—both—fit you well and you liked very much.

though, you wouldn’t tell him that. you wonder what his reaction would be to how you actually look in it, especially since you barely made him agree to not seeing you until the ceremony.

“no.”

“sukuna, come on,” you huffed, clinging onto his arms, “it’s a tradition!”

“I don’t care about traditions, you know that,” he replied simply and carried you in his arms.

you pouted and rested your head on his shoulder, looking up at him with your best puppy eyes, “please, honey?”

he looks at you for a few moments before clicking his tongue and looking away, “fine.”

“yay!”

you let out a chuckle at the memory and are interrupted by the door opening. the servant at the door is heavily panting as he speaks, “the l—lord demands to begin the ceremony right now.”

one of the maids looks at him incredulously, “what?! we still have much to prefer like the pathway to his highness and the food!”

the servant nods in understanding, “I know I swear,” he gulps, “but he is getting real impatient and has expressed the need to see her highness more than once.”

you roll your eyes and stand up, “well, tell him that we will be on our way.”

the main maid gasps, “but my lady—”

“don’t fret,” you smile, “if he asks about the unfinished tasks and preparations, I will tell him that you were working on it, but his insistence on speeding things up halted you from your duty, understood?”

they all nod hesitantly. you clap your hand and grin, “well then, lets go! I am excited to see my dear future husband.”

the maids smile nervously, still trying to come to terms with your marriage to sukuna. staying by his side as his lover is one thing, but to officially be declared his wife?

they have come to the conclusion that either you are as crazy as him underneath or you simply managed to tame him—to an extent at least.

you finally exit your room, and as you walk down the hallways, servants clear the way for you, bowing their heads as they offer you their blessings.

you look around the halls, finding them decorated with flowers already, so they are probably talking about the path in the main room.

the flowers are all of your choice, and it fills you with a sense of joy that each one that you pointed out on your outings with sukuna has been placed meticulously in the arrangement that litter the halls.

you slow down your pace, partially to soak in the view a bit more and partially to tease sukuna who is probably waiting with the last smidge of patience he can manage.

sukuna, who is sat on his throne, hand on his knee as he tapped it in waiting. he knows what you’re doing. you have always tried to test just how much you can get away with, which is admittedly a lot at this point.

for example, the first time you did something that he considered audacious is when you were strolling the gardens when you first came to the palace.

you were faced with sukuna who was stood in the place where you usually lounged.

it irked you cause he had the entire garden but chose the most secluded spot—which was usually where you sat so the servants can forget about doing any chores.

you frowned, “that is my spot.”

he quirked an eyebrow but didn’t look back at you. he let out a chuckle, “and this entire palace is mine.”

“nice try,” you quipped, “but I know the palace belongs to sukuna, the king of curses.”

at that, he turned to look at you. he leaned back against the tree, arms crossed and a cold stare on his face, “and who do you think I am, human?”

“oh—shit, okay,” you spluttered, “so you’re sukuna? you look more handsome than I thought.”

a smirked plays at the corner of his lips.

he didn’t reply to you, and you—rightfully—thought that you have dug your own grave. you started to shift your footing from your tip toes to your heel, and you looked away.

he stood up, an amused smile on his face, and he passed you, “I am expecting more from you, so don’t disappoint me.”

you tilted your head, watching his retreating figure. he had left one last comment, “but the next time I see you, I expect you to kneel at my presence.”

that was the moment that sukuna started wanting to see more of you, to see how far you could go. it was a new thing to amuse himself with, so it was more than welcome.

he just doesn’t know when it started being the other way around, because you, in fact, did not kneel.

instead, you started treating him like someone who you genuinely enjoyed their company, and it threw him off slightly; however, that is one of the reasons why he is currently waiting for you, his bride to appear.

the door finally opens, and it reveals you.

sukuna’s heart doesn’t skip a beat at how the kimono fit you exactly how he thought, how your make up was simply perfect, nor how the smile on your lips exuded both happiness and mischief.

what sukuna feels instead is booming pride.

you were always his, since the moment you entered the palace, before he even laid eyes on you. but this silly tradition simply solidifies it even more in the eyes of the others.

he smirks as you finally stand in front of him. you can barely contain your grin, “hello, future husband.”

he didn’t think that a tie to him would ever make somebody so joyed. he smirks at you, patting his lap, “you should know by now that I know you best, you silly woman.”

instantly, your expression falls, and you retort, “way to ruin the mood, king.”

amusement glints in his eyes, and he pulls you close to him, “don’t you ever get tired of giving me attitude? you ought to learn your place.”

“is it not by your side, my lord?” you hum, and he chuckles, content when you finally settle on his lap.

“damn audacious woman,” he looks up at the servants that fill the room.

they are all bowing, some trembling, others alienly still. then there is you who is swinging her feet as she sits on the lap of the king of curses.

he lets out a small breath then speaks loudly, “get the rings.”

in a moment, a servant comes in, carrying a cushion where two golden rings lay. your eyes widen at the sheer amount of patterns of gems on one of the rings.

the servant kneels in front of you two, and sukuna takes the ring decorated with gems in one hand and your hand in another. it slips perfectly onto your finger, and you raise your hand.

you feel your jaw slack a bit at how intricately made it is. and upon closer inspection, you see that one of the patterns is actually sukuna’s name.

you look up at him, and he is already looking at you with a small smirk and a confident look, “you should see the look on your face,” he muses.

he takes your hand into his and raises it slightly.

he examines it quietly before letting go. you blink confused but shrug the thought of your mind. you hold his hand in yours gently, and you put the ring on him.

his ring, contrary to yours, is a lot minimal. it’s a simple golden band, but what surprises you is that your name is etched on the surface.

“sukuna, my name…?”

he looks at the ring on his finger and flexes his hand. he looks at you simply says, “figured you would like something like this.”

you smile widely and giggle, “you know, people usually carve the name of the inside.”

“and I am not usual, am I?”

you nod gently and lean against his chest, “no, you’re not.”

you honestly didn’t know what to expect from a wedding ceremony in the ryomen sukuna “style”. however, sukuna was set on…standing out and making it a memorable event.

the room was flooded with servants carrying trays upon trays of food—all which you have noticed were your favorite—and dancers that put one of the most fascinating shows you’ve seen.

you gape at how they make their moves so effortless, which you can see through just how much practice was put into it.

you look at sukuna, and you seem him smirking down at you, clearly proud of the reaction the show has gotten out of you.

“how—how long have you been preparing for this?” you ask the man.

he glances at the dancers then replies, “6 months; I needed it to be perfect, and these humans take so long to learn things.”

“also, I know that the show I organized is great—“ he says before holding your chin and making you face him, “but that enamoured face should be directed at none other than me, got it?”

you nod frantically, not out of fear, but he is staring directly into your eyes in a way that simply is far too intense. he releases your chin, humming in satisfaction.

the dance finally comes to a close, and everybody in the room bows down to the both of you.

uraume speaks up from beside you—when did they get there—head held down humbly, “it is time for you to exchange vows, my lord and m’lady.”

vows? sukuna prepared vows?

tilting your head in confusion, you look at sukuna, and he is already looking at you. he rolls his eyes, “I didn’t prepare anything, brat; don’t get ahead of yourself.”

okay, that tracks. you give him a thumbs up.

but he is quiet for a moment before speaking up, “I have no need for that; all that you need to is that,” he leans closer to you, "you are mine, entirely and without exception, in every breath you take,” he spoke lowly against your lips, “I won’t let you forget that.”

he lets out a breath of amusement at the way your eyes widen and the glimmer behind them. he wastes no time in locking his lips with you, sealing your contract for life.

—

“wooo! I am married!” you say drunkenly, giggling and swaying slightly beside your now husband.

you whip your head back at him, almost falling in the process but his hand easily steadies you, “sukuna, I am married!”

“I know,” he replies, eyeing the empty cup that was full of sake. he hums, “uraume, what was the intensity in the sake?”

they both glance at you, standing on top of a table, babbling a kind of song about your marriage and being a queen now.

you nearly trip on the covers, but sukuna nods for uraume to stop your fall. they hold you up with one hand, maintaining a safe distance, so sukuna doesn’t get protective.

“high, my lord.”

you keep giggling and squealing, and he sighs, “certainly looks like it.”

he rests his chin on his palm, watching your figure run around and keeping an eye for you. however, in the corner of his eyes, he spots a couple of men staring at you, eyes full-blown and open.

it irks him that even after that display, they still dare to look at what belongs to him.

with minimal effort, he flicks his finger, and their heads go flying to the corner of the room. some of the blood splatters onto the floor, but he pays it no mind.

“ooo, red wine!”

“don’t you dare drink that, you stupid woman!”

after a while you find yourself laid down on the bed, head dazed as you try to make sense of your surroundings. you can hear a door closing, and some heavy footsteps getting closer and closer.

finally, your husband comes into view with his arms crossed. you pull on his sleeve gently, “what about the after-party?”

he sits down beside you, and you take the chance to lay your head on his lap. he allows it but grunts in response, “after-party with you all delirious like this?”

“I am fine!” you protest, huffing and giving him the most intimidating glare you can muster.

he simply flicks your forehead, and you yelp, shielding your face away from him, “you’re so rude!”

“pretty sure, you aren’t supposed to reply your king and husband like that,” he states. he squishes your face with one hand and quirks an eyebrow, “you’re testing your limits.”

“I don’t care!”

“oh?”

you note the change of tone almost instantly, and it is enough to sober you up.

you look up, wide-eyed at him, and on his face is a devious smirk, and behind his eyes are thoughts that are probably going to be the end of you tonight.

he leans down slightly, “I have a different kind of after-party in mind,” one of his hands trails to hold your wrist, “which I think you will quite like,” you try resisting for even a second, but you’re no match for him, “starting now.”

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copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or I will put you on gege's list

check out my buy me a coffee!

[mikasa-imadebiscults]

HIHI I LOVE UR WORK!!

Could u please do the kny Hashira with s/o who is like, the funniest mf to walk the planet. Like, they know how to hit their humour PERFECTLY and they just makes them laugh so much!!!

(Hey hey, Anon! I really hope I pleased you with the request, it was a little difficult to come up with hcs so I hope you enjoyed. Have a nice day!)

Hashira w/ a Funny S/O

(Characters Included- All the Hashira)

(Warning: Nothing, just fluff and GN! Reader)

🔥Kyojuro Rengoku🔥

- Not afraid to laugh at your jokes, he makes it known that he thinks it’s funny. You can hear him laughing from a mile away.

- Sometimes you make him laugh so hard that he slaps his knee or throws his head back.

- Will tell you afterwards that his ribs and cheeks hurt from laughing so much, but he’ll still be smiling.

🌪️Sanemi Shinazugawa🌪️

- When you first made him laugh, he was surprised at first since it was rare for him to laugh, let alone laugh at someone’s joke.

- Though when you keep on making him laugh he gets suspicious. “What are they on about?” He often thinks to himself.

- One time when you made him laugh, he chuckled louder than usual and it caught you off guard so you were just staring at him all starstruck. Then he got embarrassed and turned away from you, telling you to stop staring.

🪨Gyomei Himejima🪨

- He finds your funny personality very endearing.

- Loves to hear any new jokes you come up with and praises you on your talent.

- If you’re having a laughing fit because of your own jokes, he’ll chuckle before smiling at you softly.

- When he found out that you could even make Sanemi and Obanai laugh he was glad that you could make his fellow Hashira happy.

🦋Shinobu Kocho��

- She admires how well and quickly you can make others bust out in laughter. It warms her heart.

- Shinobu’s laugh is always low and giggly. You love it. (I love it too)

- It feels weird to her to genuinely smile this much but she doesn’t mind it and learns to grow used to it when she’s with you. (Kanae above approves of you)

🍡Mitsuri Kanroji🍡

- You make her laugh so much that her face gets red. She always tries to cover it too.

- (If you’re a Hashira) She tries so hard not to laugh at one of your little jokes during the Hashira meetings. (Ultimately, she fails but the other Hashira can’t blame her)

- For the love of Mitsuri, please do not make her laugh while she’s eating or drinking something unless you wanna make her choke (and not in a good way)

🌊Giyuu Tomioka🌊

- Before meeting you, it was extremely rare to make him laugh. He probably never even laughed since Sabito’s passing. Then he met you and changed everything.

- Whenever he laughs he doesn’t laugh for very long or loud, mainly he chuckles.

- Also fun fact, he doesn’t understand dark humor, he’ll be more concerned than anything.

🔊Uzui Tengen🔊

- He is the type of person who playfully hits your back whenever you make him laugh.

- You also most likely loss roughly 30% of your hearing from his loud laughter.

- Whenever he sees you making Hina, Makio, and Suma laugh he will softly smile at all of his partners having a good time.

🐍Iguro Obanai🐍

- When he first met you he already heard about you from the other Hashira like Rengoku and Uzui. He referred to you as “The Laughing Person” because you make everyone laugh.

- Like Tomioka, he mainly chuckles, but after he’s done laughing and sees you still laughing at yourself he’ll smile to himself.

☁️Muichiro Tokito☁️

- He grows fond of you over time. Before he regained his memories he would think of you as an otter because they say that it represents laughter and joy. (I think it represents that, I looked it up so it might not be correct)

- After he regained his memories, he would be much more expressive when he’s laughing.

- Muichiro always looks forward to your jokes everyday.

Masterlist

[maxlarens]

Hi ! As a pescatarian girly and as someone who has recently started to like Lando, I kept thinking about him with pescatarian!reader, because you know opposites attracts and also it made me think of the olive theory from 'How I met your mother', can be fic or smau

(also I'm the anon who requested the Charles fic and I was wondering if you gave names or emojis to your anons 🤔)

ahhh hi😇😇 thank u sm for sending another ask in. verrryy into this! ive never watched himym but i HAVE heard of the olive theory and genuinely think it can be so true. i also think like sharing food/giving certain parts of ur meal to ur partner is so sweet so i loved this a lot🥺🥺

also, tbh i have never had a consistent enough anon to name them/give them an emoji so i would loveee LOVE to do that🙏�� pls let me know what i should call u❤️ (and if anyone wants to be a regular/semi-regular anon and give themselves an emoji/name pls do!!!) ANYWAY alright i hope u enjoy— it’s a just a short ficlet 😌💖

LN: quid pro quo

pairing(s): lando norris x reader [read on ao3]

word count: 1.2k

“Eugh,” Lando says, feigning a gag as he looks at the plate of food set in front of you, “That’s disgusting. I don’t understand how you can put that in your mouth.”

Slowly, you raise an eyebrow at him, looking between your plate and Lando’s screwed-up expression; you point at your food, “Salmon? You think salmon is disgusting? Are you joking right now?”

He shakes his head fervently, a grimace still stuck on his face, “It’s gross.”

A laugh, loud and guffawing erupts from your mouth as you realise he’s being entirely serious. He’s fixated on your meal, frowning as if the fish has severely insulted him in some way. Quickly, you clap your hand over your mouth, concerned you’ll offend him if you keep laughing like that. This is one of a handful of dates you’ve been on together— clearly the first you’ve ordered seafood on— and you’re still trying to make a good impression on Lando.

“Wait,” you collect yourself, breathing deeply so you don’t fall into a fit of giggles again, “You’re not allergic are you?”

“No,” he shrugs, “I just hate fish. You’ve never heard that?”

You snort a little indelicately, already going back to eating your salmon, “‘You’ve never heard that?’,” you tease, “Do you think I stalk you on the internet, Norris?”

He grins that small sheepish grin you like so much as a light blush blooms on his cheeks. You’re very fond of him really. He’s cute in a scrappy kind of way; he’s funny and charming, a little bit dumb sometimes; and he’s into you, which is always a bonus. You’re not together— not quite— just seeing each other when you both have time, but it’s been going very nicely if you do say so yourself.

You like him.

He likes you.

Lando rolls his eyes, and purses his lips in an attempt not to let you see the smile that he’s trying to hide, “Don’t you? Stalk me on the internet?”

“Never,” you answer resolutely, thinking blatantly of that night after you’d first met him when you fell down a rabbit hole, spending a good hour watching thirst traps of him on Instagram before coming to your senses, “Not once.”

He hums, unconvinced, “Alright.”

Alright. You make a face, almost stick your tongue out at him but think better of it at the last second. He laughs— giggles— at you. You look away from him, down at your plate, trying to hide the smile that spreads and spreads behind your hair. God, you like him. You’re trying not to let it get away from you. You get the impression that he’s not huge on relationships, and you’re trying hard to be casual about him. It’s difficult— mostly because everything feels so easy when you’re together.

“So,” you start as you push a forkful of salmon and leafy greens around your plate, “Hate to break it to you, but I’m a pescetarian.”

“Um,” Lando asks around a mouthful of half-chewed food, “What’s that mean?”

You stifle a laugh, “Like a vegetarian, but I eat seafood.”

He swallows and makes another face, similar to the earlier one. You can see this is hard for him to process, he clearly dislikes seafood to a degree that you hadn’t quite understood until now. It’s funny. It’s another thing to add to the growing list of reasons you fancy Lando Norris. Though you would think that as a pescetarian you’d want him to like fish, but you suppose by not eating them he’s just saving all the sea animals that you’re not— quid pro quo.

“What about, like,” he waves his fork around, evidently still wondering why you’d eat seafood voluntarily, “just being a vegetarian?”

You shrug, “Vegetables are boring.”

“Right. Better than eating fish though.”

“I like fish.”

He shakes his head, “I don’t get it… It’s— they’re slimy and they smell and they’ve got fucking beady little eyes. It’s not natural.”

“Okay,” you laugh brightly at his despondent expression, “I do need to eat them, unfortunately. Otherwise, I’d probably die of malnutrition, or I dunno, scurvy.”

He groans, hanging his head so that all you can see of his face is that mop of brown curls. You think of your second date when you’d kissed him for the first time in your stairwell and how you’d threaded a hand into it— and they were soft and not heavy with product the way that you hate. The way he’d smelt like expensive cologne and tasted both smokey and sugary at the same time, just like the whiskey and cokes he’d been having at the bar. There’s a soft smile playing at your lips when he finally looks up.

“Does it bother you?” you ask, “That I eat fish.”

He shrugs, shakes his head in a non-committal way that could be either answer and does that little grin again. The one that means he’s going to say something that you’ll find either unbearably cute or embarrassingly funny.

“Yes,” he says, grin not subsiding, “How am I supposed to kiss you when you’ve got fish breath.”

Your eyebrows shoot up and a shocked laugh bubbles from your mouth, you try to ignore the stirring feeling in your gut at the words how am I supposed to kiss you in favour of responding to his lack of tact Try, being the keyword there. It somersaults in your head, how am I supposed to kiss you he said, like he was thinking of doing it again. Which, okay, of course, he’s thinking of doing it again. You understand what this is— but there was an unmistakable fondness there that you just can't shake.

Anyway, you push thoughts of kissing him aside, he’d still accused you of having fish breath, “Wow,” you say dryly, with no malice at all as much as you try to feign it, “You say that to all the girls?”

He blushes, his tan cheeks turning a very pleasant red as he properly realises what he’d said, “Shit. No— oh my god— I’m sorry. I just meant—”

You wave him off, laughing, “I know what you meant. You’re good, Lando.”

“Phew,” he lets out a breath of relief, his nervous laughter punctuating the air between you, without meaning to he says, “God, I thought I’d just fucked it.”

You furrow your brows and frown, confused, “No. You couldn’t.”

You watch him scrub a hand over his face, embarrassed, before it falls away and he gives you a sheepish little grin that says he’s happy to hear that. Toothy, eyes squinted and carving dimples into his cheeks. Your face feels warm and you smile back, biting your bottom lip on the smile so it doesn’t grow and grow to cover your whole face.

Later, after you’ve finished lunch and spent too much time talking over a too-sticky table in your favourite pub, Lando kisses you up against a tree in the park by your apartment. You put your hand in his soft curls and you smell cologne and taste what he��s been drinking as he presses his tongue into yours. The coarse hair of his moustache brushes against your lips and you kiss back with equal gusto. You pull away when it feels like you two are veering into too inappropriate territory for this public park. He chases you, but you laugh softly, pressing a perfunctory closed-mouth kiss to the corner of his mouth. He groans, laughs, and puts his forehead against yours.

You hum, “I guess my fish breath doesn’t bother you so much, huh.”

“Fuck,” he breathes, “You’re never going to let that go are you.”

You shake your head ever so slightly, “Not as long as I live, Norris.”

[heesimp]

hiii can I be 🦢 anon!

I was thinking maybe reader sexing prof heeseung

swan is saved for you! enjoy this drabble xxx

-

“Aren’t your students coming soon?”

“I hope so.” Heeseung smiles down at you wickedly but it doesn’t stop you from looking up at him from where you sit on his desk in the empty classroom. It’s a free period for him and he’s called you in under the guise of revising a paper, but you know better than to believe that. You smack his chest at his innuendo.

Everybody knows who Heeseung is: a great professor who is as passionate about teaching as he is when it comes to literature. He started as a TA at this university before obtaining his PhD in literary studies and passes on his love for knowledge to his students.

You sit in the third row just shy from the center in your pretty dresses that are modest enough to wear to class but stylish too. Unlike the rest of your classmates, you aren’t afraid to answer Heeseung’s questions and raise your hand to give you input either. He likes that about you and it’s what made you his favorite student.

Heeseung loves ambition in people because he sees it in himself. He loves it when his students have that drive to them and loves reading papers and grading test scores from his brightest pupils. It makes him so proud.

You fit in his life somehow in ways he hadn’t imagined. You, with your supple skin and bright mind enticed Heeseung the first time you took advantage of his office hours. You’d been the first student to visit him and talk about the course material, and it didn’t help that you were wearing a short skirt on a hot day with your thighs sticking to the leather seat below you. He went home that night and touched himself to the thought of gripping your thighs as he fucked you in his office.

The first time the two of you were alone at a late hour on campus was by accident. You couldn’t make it to his office hours and asked to schedule for a time after classes were over and spent an hour discussing the lesson plan and your favorite authors. The second time was by accident too, as he had run into you at the library during the evening and offered to walk you to your car since it was so late at night.

The third time was by accident as well, except neither of you cared that clothes weren’t involved. Now, he conceals kisses with you in between your classes and his, and keeps his doors locked when you come in to have lunch with him.

“I have thirty minutes before my next class starts and you, baby, have an hour before your exam. Shouldn’t you be studying?”

“Stayed up all night just so I could do this with you now,” you say, pulling Heeseung closer to you by pushing your legs around him. He holds your waist and you position your crotch right against his. He’s hard already. “Besides, I perform better after I cum.”

“Mm, is that right?”

“Yes, professor. Haven’t you ever wondered why I test well with your cum sitting inside of me?”

“So dirty for me.” Heeseung dips down to press his lips right on top of yours like he’s been dying for a taste all morning. “Makes me wanna fuck you real hard.”

“You have thirty minutes.”

Your sultry voice lures him right in. He doesn’t have enough time for foreplay and fears that someone might need him before he’s set to begin teaching so he pulls his cock out of his pants before shoving them down until they reach his ankles. You did him a favor by wearing a dress today and when he pushes a hand underneath to push your panties to the side, he groans when he realizes you aren’t wearing any.

Heeseung pushes the tip inside of your wet hole and looks you in the eye. “You’re trouble.”

“You like that though, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” he says, pushing himself further inside of you until you’re arching your chest into him, “I really do. My naughty girl.”

His hips thrust in and out of you at a nice pace. You feel him within your walls and push yourself off of the table with the palm of your hands to angle yourself towards him better with his wet dick sloshing around you. It seeps down onto his balls and Heeseung puts his own hands on the desk beside you in order to kiss you.

“Did you complete your online assignment?”

“Really, Hee? You’re asking me that now?”

Heeseung smirks and pushes himself in and out of you faster until you’re yelping against his lips. “Yeah, I am. Don’t want my best student to fall behind just because she’s drunk over some cock. Did you finish it, Y/N?”

“Y-Yes!”

“Do you think you did a good job?”

“I did!” you whine against him as Heeseung kisses your neck. “I double checked my references!”

“Perfect student with a perfect pussy.” He pulls back far enough to see his cock disappearing inside of you. “Wooooow. Would you look at that?”

“Wish you would come fuck me in my dorm,” you whine. “I hate fucking in your office.”

“You like my bed though, don’t you? My bed is much bigger than the pathetic twin the university gives you.”

“Yeah, but think about it. It’s really hot when you know we shouldn’t be fucking there.”

He shakes his head and kisses your lips to silence you. “Can’t risk getting seen by other students, baby. Fucking in my office is risky enough.”

“Then you should make me cum so we don’t get caught.”

Heeseung heeds your warning and uses the strength in his legs to push you onto the desk until your legs are in the air. His hands come to your calves to keep your legs apart just how he likes you to be, watching your silk-like pussy folds envelope him like you’re a siren waiting to ruin him.

You come when he comes. That feeling of sudden warmth in your hole makes you go insane every time he does it. Heeseung pulls out enough to watch as the rest of his cum drips onto your folds until he’s soft enough to clean the two of you up. He wipes you down with a spare tissue before he leans down to lick one strip up your pussy and kissing your clit before closing your legs for you.

“Same time tomorrow?” You bat your eyelashes at him and he laughs.

“I have a faculty meeting, unfortunately��Why don’t you spend the weekend with me?”

“Oh? And do what professor?”

“I think you know what.”

He wills himself not to get hard again.

[thedreamlessnights]

Since requests are open, here's my suggestion: I recently revisited my old mythology book and found one of the myths about aphrodite bathing in a lake and blinds some pervs that sneaked up to watch her. Now, the reader might not have the powers of a goddess but you know what she does have? A dagger-happy vampire boyfriend more than willing to shank unwanted peeping toms (in his defense, he actually asked if he could be there, so no harm done here). Idk, I just like the idea of the reader having scary dog privileges and Astarion not minding looking menacing/scary while doing so

Thank you so, so much for this request, anon. It's an absolutely incredible concept, and it fits Astarion so well! I had such a fun time writing it, and I really hope you enjoy the result!

For Your Eyes Only

Astarion x F!Reader - NSFW

Content warnings: Mentions of brief, non-consensual voyeurism. Somewhat graphic violence, as well as mentions of blood, degrading terms, and the description of an injury and death. Explicit sexual content, including: oral sex (receiving), penetrative sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, blood drinking, and ear play. Tags: Takes place post-Cazador, some point in Act 3. Includes mild spoilers. Established relationship, a bit of emotional hurt/comfort, and tender smut.

Word Count: 5.8k

After the darkness and chill of the Shadowlands, the heat in the city feels suffocating.

You missed the warmth dearly back then, trudging through despair and gloom, thinking of nothing but the inevitable relief of the city. Your bones always ached something awful in that foul place, never warm enough to ward away the icy air. Now, though, it occurs to you that you hadn’t fully appreciated the cold when you had it. 

The sun that streams down from the skies is blistering - scorching, even - and without reprieve or relief. Sweat courses down your neck, soaking the collar of your shirt. Your socks are damp inside your boots, and where the leather meets your calves, they’re chafing. 

Gods, what you wouldn’t give for a bit of that chill again. Even with the achy bones.

What’s worse is the mud, somehow. One would think that Baldur’s Gate would be scarce on its share of the stuff, but it’s everywhere. Tracked up from Rivington, puddling in the streets, clinging to the bottom of boots.

Granted, your boots have seen more than their fair share of mud since the nautiloid: sticky, wet, warm. It’s seeped into socks and splattered across new armor, stained some of your favorite nightwear. Sometimes, when you’ve finally settled down for dinner, you’ve been able to taste it. No amount of scrubbing rids you of the earthy, bitter taste for long. 

The mud in front of you is different, though. By all accounts, the heat should have baked everything at least somewhat dry, but this puddle remains. If it can even be called a puddle, really. The gloppy, wet mess looks more like a pond, and completely blocks the only path ahead. Even the edges of it remain entirely liquid. If you didn’t know better, you’d think it’d just rained.

A quick glance at your map confirms what you’d feared; this is the only nearby route to your destination. You’re on the outskirts of the city. Rock walls line either side of the path, too steep to climb. You know for a fact that Shadowheart had recently used your last Potion of Flying. Either you lose hours of progress to get Gale from camp so you can cross, or you’ll have to proceed through this stupid pond.

Astarion watches you eye the mess with a dramatic flick of his wrist. “Oh, by all means, darling, you go first!” he exclaims, raising a brow. “It won’t be me jumping in that slop.”

Karlach frowns at the mud’s appearance, tapping the toe of her boot against the surface. It ripples at the movement, brown waves gently sloshing against the surface of the nearby stone. “Can’t be that deep, right?”

“I don’t know,” you reply. You’re aching for a stick or loose branch, something to measure it, but there’s nothing around. Just grass and stone, the scalding sun on the back of your neck, and the muddy pond directly in the middle of the path. 

“I say we go back,” Shadowheart urges. “I don’t know about any of you, but I’m not keen on dirtying myself.”

“We’d have to backtrack through hours of traveling,” you point out. “There’s no other way forward. I’ve checked the map.”

“Fine,” she relents, crossing her arms across her chest. “You go first, and we’ll follow behind you. Once we’ve seen it’s safe, that is.”

And, hells, you do not want to step foot in there. Not one bit. Still, do you have much of a choice? Your feet are already aching from the day’s walk. It would be devastating to lose all your progress. So, no - you really don’t have a choice, not if you want to get those Netherstones and stop the Absolute in time. The quakes in the city have only been getting worse.

“Alright,” you finally reply, your voice stronger than you feel. 

You step forward, pressing your right boot against the mud, then apply your weight. Your heel breaks the surface with a terrifying rush of movement, and your leg instantly slides down into the muck - much deeper than you’d thought, deeper than it should be. When your foot hits the bottom, sticky, cold mud splatters up, painting your shirt, neck, and parts of your face. 

Suddenly, the day isn’t quite so warm.

When you finally muster the courage to look down, your right leg is submerged up to the knee, soaking through your trousers. You can practically hear the sick squelch of it making its way into your socks, squishing between your toes.

“Urgh,” you mutter, wrinkling your nose as you attempt to pull your leg up. “Disgusting.” But it won’t budge. In fact, your squirming seems to be making you sink down even further. You try to shift your weight, but your balance is uneven with one leg in and one leg out. You’re dangerously close to losing your footing, and every bit you struggle threatens to tilt you face-first into the makeshift mud pond. In a prime moment of idiocy, you plant your other foot in the mud for support, and find your bottom half completely unable to move.

“What a brilliant idea,” Shadowheart says. “Now you’re stuck.”

“Thank you, Shadowheart,” you grit out, sweat dripping down your neck as you attempt to twist yourself around. “I had no idea!”

Karlach steps behind you, laughing a little. “Come on. Up you go, soldier,” she says, leveraging her arms under yours and giving a quick tug. You’re expecting the mud to release you, but it doesn’t. Your legs don’t budge - not even an inch. 

“What in the…?” she mutters, giving another pull. This one has more force behind it; when she tries to haul you up, white-hot pain sears up through your ribs, ripping an agonized cry from your lips. No matter how hard she yanks, the mud’s grip only tightens around you. It’s beginning to feel like you’re a brittle piece of rope in a vicious game of tug-of-war. 

“Shit! I’m sorry!” she exclaims. “So, so, sorry!”

“What are you doing?” Astarion asks, his voice suddenly sharp. “You’re hurting her! Put her down!”

“So she can get sucked further into the mud?” Shadowheart asks. Her voice is lined with fear now, which is scaring you more than anything else about this miserable situation. “We have to get her out!”

But it quickly becomes clear that no matter how hard Karlach pulls, it’s useless. Every yank is agony, and you only sink further and further. Tears stream down your cheeks from the pain, and your spine feels like it’s gained a good two inches from being stretched, but still nothing. No give at all.

Eventually, Karlach lets you go. Your body plops down in relief, but the mud is somehow deeper than it was before. It’s up to the bottom of your ribs now. 

“Fuck me,” she pants, wiping her forehead. “What should we do?”

“How should I know?” Astarion’s face is drawn, more pallid than usual. His lips are pinched into a line. He should be telling you I told you so, making jokes - and you know he would be, if he were anything but absolutely terrified. Your panic is bad enough with the heaviness of the mud on your chest and lower body, but the look on his face? That tells you it’s even worse than it feels.

 “Step back,” Shadowheart instructs quietly. “I have an idea.” 

Once the two of them are out of the way, she steps forward. Stretching out her hands, she mutters an incantation into the air. In seconds, the slight chill of the mud surrounding you becomes sharp, painful ice that burns against every exposed inch of skin it touches. A very muddy shade of ice, but ice all the same. 

Karlach’s axe crashes through the surface and it shatters, breaking around you. After another hit and a moment of digging, she finally has you out: freezing, still covered in mud, and very sore - but alive.

“Thank you,” you manage, choking out the words between your shivering.

“Never say I didn’t do anything for you,” Shadowheart says, smiling a little. She lets out a breath of relief, the tension bleeding from her shoulders. “Now. Turning around, are we?”

By the time you get back to camp, you’re the most uncomfortable you’ve ever been in your life. You’re wet and cold and exhausted, caked with dried mud that pulls at your skin when you move. It’s in your hair, on your face, and in your shoes, squelching with every step. The feeling makes you want to crawl out of your skin. Your ribs are sore and achy, and - on top of all of that - you’ve lost a good day’s worth of travel. 

The only thing you want is to fall into Astarion’s arms, but he wrinkles his nose when you come near, holding out a finger to stop you. “Oh, no you don't,” he says. “Bath first. Then you can talk to me, darling.”

It seems no amount of persuasion is going to change his mind, so you head back to your tent and grab a number of supplies - soap, sponges, a towel, and a change of clothes. Your trusty knife for protection. The river is bound to be freezing, but it’s better than sponging yourself down and hoping for the best. 

Thank the gods you’d found a decent pair of boots in an abandoned house today, because the ones that are currently plastered to your feet will take days to dry out, even in the hot sun. When you get to the nearby river, you don’t even bother to take them off before you plunge them into icy water, sufficiently drenching them until you can furiously loosen the mud enough to slip them off and toss them onto the riverbank.

The rest of your clothing gets the same treatment: the trousers which slowly pull away from your skin, the shirt that’s splattered with mud and covered in it up to the waist. Your hair will no doubt be a disaster, too. 

You’re still sitting in the soaking-wet clothes when you hear the sound of a twig snapping behind you. Your hand instantly grabs for your knife, ready to throw it at whatever threat might be in the woods as your eyes sweep along the trees. 

Nothing. You find nothing.

“Darling,” comes Astarion’s voice. He slips out from the shadows, immaculately clean, gazing down at the weapon in your hand with a lifted brow. “Planning to render me dead twice-over?”

“You scared the living hells out of me, Astarion!” you snap, sucking in a shaky breath. The blade drops from your loosened fingers, softly thumping against the dirt. “What are you doing out here?” 

He steps closer, taking a seat on a nearby log. “You were taking ages to get clean,” he whines, sprawling out his legs in front of him. “And, unfortunately, our companions haven’t had an argument all night. How else am I meant to entertain myself? So here I am. Trudging through the woods for your company.”

“You could give me a warning next time,” you reply, still a little jarred. “I thought you were someone hoping to catch an eyeful.”

A smirk flickers across his lips. “Oh, but I am,” he says. “Do you mind terribly?”

Against your will, your cheeks heat, and his smile widens. “I don’t mind,” you say. “Not if you behave, that is. Hands to yourself.” 

“I’ll be on my very best behavior,” he promises. Leaning forward, he prods your boots, wrinkling his nose at the sight. “Gods below. Those disgusting things should be burned.”

“I have an extra pair.” You move to tug your shirt off, but it’s clinging to you. “Gods damn that stupid mud pile. I should have asked Gale to use a cleaning spell.”

“Oh, please,” Astarion says. “He’s been sulking in his tent all evening. Apparently, being asked to blow yourself up by an old flame doesn’t do much in the way of socializing.”

The shirt finally pulls free, and it’s clear that your smallclothes have received the same treatment as the rest of your garments. Gods, you really should have asked for that cleaning spell. This mud is going to take ages to get out.

“Hand that here,” Astarion says, motioning for your shirt. You toss it to him, and he inspects it closely before setting aside.

“What?” you ask. “What were you looking for?”

“Oh, darling, nothing,” he says. “That’s my ‘to be burned’ pile. We’ll get you a new one.”

You’d argue, but you aren’t very attached to your current outfit - and besides, after weeks of trekking through wilderness and Shadowlands alike, it’s falling apart even without the mud. 

“Do what you want with it,” you grumble, finally pulling off your smallclothes. “That shirt was barely surviving anyway.”

You glance over your shoulder and find him observing with a raised brow, slowly taking the sight of you in. You must look like a mess, but you’d never know it from the glint in the eye, or the complacent smile that plays upon his lips. Heat stirs low in your belly, simmering under your skin. Later, you tell yourself. When you aren’t covered in filth.

You lather up the soap on your sponge, scrubbing away the mud the best you can, but the damned stuff takes ages to get off. By the time you’re finally clean, the silvery moon is high in the sky, and your skin is beginning to prune.

Astarion makes a small comment or two, but mostly seems content to watch you in silence. His gaze burns over every inch of exposed skin, leaving phantom heat wherever it stalls. All you want is to get out of this damned river and touch him, but you’re determined to get every bit of the mud off before you do, and it’s taking much longer than you’d hoped.

When you’re finally presentable, you start on cleaning your filthy smallclothes. The soap is slippery, making it difficult to do much scrubbing, and the water alone is doing hardly anything. 

Astarion watches you struggling, huffing as you nearly drop the soap bar in the river. After a moment, he lets out an exasperated sigh. “Dearest, you do realize that it would be much easier if you-”

But his words suddenly cut off. His head snaps toward the woods, and every nerve in your body burns with fear. In the span of seconds, he’s lunged forward, grabbed your knife, and darted after the sound. 

Not a moment later, there’s a loud crash - some form of impact as he tackles whatever it was that he heard. You instantly push yourself out of the water without thinking, numb, your heart pounding in your chest as you stumble into the forest after him. It only takes a few steps in before you see it: a man on the ground, Astarion’s knife to his throat.

Your stomach churns, and your skin prickles in the air’s chill. How much had he seen? How long had he been standing there?

Astarion is shouting something at him, and the stranger is struggling against his hold, but it’s useless. He’s a scrawny, weak little thing, no match for Astarion’s lithe, nimble strength. No amount of twisting or fighting dislodges Astarion’s grip. After a moment, he finally gives up, cackling like an old hag as his head plops down against the dirt.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you here and now,” Astarion hisses, anger contorting his features.

In response, the man spits in his face. “She’s your bitch, is she?” he croaks. “You can take a turn after I’m done with her.”

Astarion snarls in response, gripping the man’s collar and pressing the blade deeper into the skin until it draws blood. 

“Wait,” you call, stepping closer. “Don’t.”

Astarion blinks in disbelief, sitting up, careful to keep his weight on the stranger underneath. “My love, you can’t be serious,” he says. “You want to spare this-”

“Spare?” you echo, cutting off his words. “Who said anything about sparing him?” 

Something glints in his gaze as he takes in your words. “Darling,” he drawls, his tone admirational. “By all means.”

He hands you the knife, and you kneel down next to him. It’s heavy in your hand, cold and smooth as you run your finger over the flat edge of the blade. You stare at the shimmer of it for a moment, entranced, somehow calm in the midst of this chaos. Then you slam the bottom of the hilt into the man’s nose.

There’s a sickening crunch before he screams, blood streaming over his mouth and spilling down his chin. Even after last night’s feeding, Astarion tenses up at the smell of it, but the curl of his lip tells you that he won’t be drinking from this piece of absolute refuse.

When the stranger reaches over and grabs at your arm, you almost don’t even realize - you’re so caught up in your own mind, in the weight of the knife in your hand. Then his nails dig into your skin, and everything hits you at once.

The freezing night air. The stinging, throbbing pain that flares through your skin as he claws at you, unable to do much more. The feel of Astarion’s hand, gentle but firm, prying the knife from your grip. It happens before you can even react - a swift slice of the blade, slitting the man’s throat. Dark blood, gushing from the wound and onto the dirt below.

For a moment, there is nothing but the sound of your breathing. Sharp but shallow, straining in your chest. Jagged air that flows in and out, but it does nothing to stop the increasing amount of black in your vision. 

You’ve fought and killed more people than you can count so… why does this feel different? Why here, why now? You’ve nearly died before, so why does the scrape on your arm feel like it’s much more than that?

Then Astarion’s hands envelop your cheeks, blissfully cool, and the panic and pain seep out all at once.

“Darling,” he’s saying, half-breathless, “are you alright?”

You manage to nod, and some of the concern leaves his eyes. He runs his fingers over the scrape on your arm, and you wince. “We need to get you patched up,” he murmurs, his brows pinching together.

“Don’t take me to Shadowheart,” you choke out. She’s already done you enough favors, and you won’t be able to stand her disapproving gaze if you disturb her rest after today’s fiasco.

He huffs. “Stubborn little thing,” he mutters, but he doesn’t argue. 

Instead, he heads back to your supplies by the river. When he returns, he wraps a towel over your shoulders, and it’s only then that you realize you’re naked. Completely, utterly naked. It had been bold of you to break that bastard’s nose in the nude, but… well, it hadn’t been your intention.

He’s dead now, though. He’ll never look at you again.

Astarion sweeps you up into his arms and carries you out of the woods along with your clean change of clothes, holding you tight against his chest and leaving your soiled clothing behind. 

You can’t find it in you to care at the moment. You’ve scrounged up plenty of clothing along the journey; those torn, stained things won’t be missed. Not to mention, if you ever need more, Astarion will gladly steal you some new ones.

He takes you to your tent, and you’re grateful to see that everyone else has turned in for the night. Anyone awake to see you would inevitably have questions, and this only affirms your decision to avoid Shadowheart - if you woke her up to heal a minor scrape on your arm, she’d be seething. 

And though she’d undoubtedly be sympathetic after hearing the cause, you don’t think you can muster up the words to tell her what’d happened.

After he’s carefully set you down on your bedroll, Astarion yanks the flap of your tent closed and reaches for your pack, digging through the contents until he’s found some bandages. His grip is gentle as he takes your arm and swipes some remnants of a healing potion over it. You’ve been through this dozens of times, but you can never seem to shake the urge to wince as it sets in - the potion stings just a bit before it soothes, a sharp tingling that fades into a sweet, balming relief. 

You’ve calmed down some, warming up in your tent with him, but Astarion’s hands are shaking as he wraps the wound. His brows are pinched together, his swallows are thick and strained, and he can’t seem to meet your eyes, even when he’s done bandaging you up.

“Astarion,” you murmur. “He’s dead.”

He stills in place, jaw clenching as he inhales sharply, still not meeting your gaze. Instead, he glowers down at the tent’s floor, his hands balling into fists. “He deserved so much worse than that,” he snaps. 

You don’t argue with him. Instead, you let him fuss over you, taking the time to smooth through your wet hair, plucking out remaining leaves and twigs from the woods. He gets you into a warm, fluffy robe - only the gods know where he’d managed to find something like that - then pulls you close, his thumb stroking over your cheek. You rest your head against his chest and close your eyes, listening to the soft sounds of his body working under his skin. No heartbeat, of course, just the quiet churn of his movements, the rise and fall of his ribs that’s become habit to him. 

After a moment, he takes your face in his hands, just as he had in the woods - but when you meet his gaze, there’s a sharp intensity in his eyes rather than fear. He takes you in little by little, tilting your head up to brush his fingers over the fading marks on your neck. 

Then he leans in, and you catch the smell of him you know so well, lingering on his skin like soap. Bergamot, rosemary, brandy. It’s what you associate most with him, that sweet, sharp scent that bathes over you. When his lips finally meet yours, the kiss is rough and desperate, heated and aching. His fangs scrape over your lip, grazing the delicate skin but not breaking it. His tongue slides into your mouth, and his hand returns to the back of your neck, tightening his grip.

One of your hands fix into his shirt as you lean into him, nipping at his lip. You shift your free hand up into his hair, tousling through the soft, silky curls before gently tugging. He groans and pulls you closer, and - gods, it’s incredible. Warmth drags down your spine like a hot coal, searing and addictive. You squirm a little in his grasp, shifting until you’re straddling his hips, and he pulls away to kiss down your jaw, murmuring soft words into the skin.

When he gets to your chest, you let him untie the robe and spread his hands underneath, peeling the fabric off your shoulders, fingers slowly warming as they trail down your back. His hands settle on your waist as he kisses you again, mouth soft against yours.

Gods, you need him. You’re already soaked, and he’s barely even touched you.

You can feel him hardening underneath you, his movements growing desperate, his breathing labored. You grind your hips against him and he lets out a strained noise against your lips, shuddering. He pulls away, examining your expression as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. 

The movement is tender and incredibly sweet, but you’re hardly patient. You’ve been wanting him ever since he sat on that log in the forest, gaze roaming over every inch of you. You let out a soft whine, attempting to tug off his shirt. He does absolutely nothing to help you.

“Astarion,” you breathe. “Please.”

“Hm? Did you want something, darling?” he asks, the desire in his voice betraying his otherwise casual tone.

“I want you,” you tell him, rolling your hips again in search of the friction you so desperately need. “Please. I want you.”

“Easy, love. You have me,” he replies, brushing his thumb against your lips. Your heart swells with a fondness that would threaten to make you cry if you weren’t so ridiculously needy.

And finally, thank the gods, he takes off his godsdamned shirt.

You run a hand up his shoulder, then into his hair. You’d once thought that he was using a special shampoo - his hair was so soft, it seemed the only explanation. Then you’d seen him with the same shampoo you were using, and you’d practically wept with envy over his ridiculously perfect genes. Even now, as you run your hands through the silk-soft curls, you don’t understand it. 

Then you trace up the line of his ear, and he shudders, leaning into your touch. When you gently massage the tip of his helix, he lets out a soft, seeking noise and his eyes flutter shut. Hells, you swear that you can feel him growing even harder beneath you. Another roll of your hips and his eyes slowly open again, half-lidded and glazed with desire. His hands firmly grip your waist, and there’s the briefest sensation of falling as he rolls you back onto your bedroll, tucking the pillow under your head.

He kisses along your clavicle, nosing down your ribs, humming against your skin. Feather-light brushes of his lips meet your ribs, then your breast, pausing to swipe his tongue over your nipple before he proceeds downward. When he arrives at your navel, your legs automatically spread open for him, and he lets out a hum of approval. He takes a leg in his hand and kisses up the thigh, warm, sharp kisses that trail up to the place you want him most.

He starts off slowly - a long lick over your clit, a quick swipe of his tongue before he settles between your legs, propping your thigh over his shoulder and starting a maddening rhythm. After all this time, you really should know how much pleasure to expect - but after everything, after his confession in the Shadowlands and the fear with Cazador, this still feels… new.

And Astarion is very, very good at what he does. He seems to know exactly what you want before you do, before your mind can put it into tangible thought, and before your body can even search for it. He works a finger into you, then two, and you’re left gasping and squirming as he sets an agonizingly slow pace. After a moment, he speeds up, just where you want him, perfect, perfect-

And then he pulls away, and the look on his face practically shouts that he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. Of course he does. He’s always been a tease. His fingers continue their work, languidly dragging in and out of you as he speaks.

“You know,” he says, pressing a kiss to your thigh, “back at the river, this was all I could think about. Getting my mouth on you. Watching you come apart piece by piece.”

Gods, he’s been direct before, but never that direct. Frankly, you’re surprised you don’t come then and there. Instead, you clench hard around his fingers and whimper, rolling your hips in time with his movements.

“Astarion,” you pant, unable to coax your mind into forming a coherent reply. “Gods, Astarion.”

He hums in response, flashing you a wicked grin. “That’s it, darling,” he encourages, shifting his fingers until they’re brushing against a spot that makes your vision black out. “Say my name. Let everyone hear you.”

You manage a laugh that quickly fades into a soft moan. “The entire camp will kill me if I wake them up.”

He nips at your thigh. “Let them try,” he muses. “They’ll have to get through me.”

He lowers his mouth between your legs again, and your head falls back against the pillow. It’s an embarrassingly short time before your muscles start to tense up, wiring you with pleasure from head to toe. One of your hands fixes in his hair, pulling tightly as white-hot pleasure sparks through your abdomen, and oh, gods, you’re coming-

Your vision cuts out again. Your mind fuzzes over, drunk with pleasure, leaving you shuddering, clenching around his fingers, moaning into your free hand. 

You know he’d prefer to hear you, but if you actually disturb any of the others, you’ll die of embarrassment. One day, the two of you will have your own house with a real bed, and you’ll be as loud as you want. For now, you muffle your cries into your fingers and tremble through your climax.

Your body floats weightlessly for a moment in what must be Elysium, until you finally rejoin yourself and find your limbs heavy and uncoordinated. Astarion huffs, placing a final kiss on you until he crawls upward, kissing up your chest again. 

He’s still holding himself back - you can see it in the way he moves, in the tension of his muscles and the coil of his shoulders. There’s a fire in his eyes, a hunger that you recognize so well. When he reaches your neck, you instinctively tilt your head, allowing him access to his usual spot. 

For a moment, he hesitates, his warm breath fanning over the skin as your pulse hammers in your throat. Then he groans, grinding himself into your leg as he bites down, chasing his pleasure against your thigh as your blood spills into his mouth.

You know this routine so very well by now. The sting of the bite, and the numbness that follows. The ebb and flow of your blood, filling his mouth. The slight dizziness that comes before he pulls away, swiping his tongue over the bite for one final taste.

“Gods,” he pants, gripping your shoulder. Then, to your utter disappointment and confusion, he pulls away. “Wait here, my sweet. I need to - I’ll be right back. I promise.”

And before you can protest, he’s scrambling out the tent. For a long, numb moment, you stare at the tent opening, wondering if you’re dreaming. The silence of the tent grates on your ears, echoing the sound of your breathing until you can barely stand it. Then he’s pushing inside again, a scroll in hand as he closes the tent.

“Do I want to know what that is?” you ask.

“A scroll of Silence, darling. I’ve been saving it.” He flashes you a grin, murmuring the incantation as the scroll shimmers in his hand. Pure Weave, confined into parchment. 

You don’t hear the spell take effect, but you feel it. It’s a thickness in the air, a heaviness in your movements. 

Astarion doesn’t waste another second. He pushes up to kiss you, and it’s messy - your tongue against his, the sting of sharp teeth, your hand in his hair and his hand on the nape of your neck. There’s the taste of metal and herbs: your blood mixed with the remnants of a healing potion. He spreads your legs with his knee, then sits back on his heels and reaches down to undo his trousers.

You study him for a moment. The crease of his brow. The alabaster of his skin, sculpted out like a statue from marble. 

If you were an artist, you’d make him your life’s work. You’d chip out his every feature little by little, painstakingly working away at the stone to define the look in his eyes when he tells you he loves you. You’d spend ages carving every wrinkle, every line, every perfect imperfection. The touch of it would be cold, like him, but it could never compare to how he looks as he settles over you, eyes blown dark with desire. 

He inches closer, still on his knees, and takes hold of your thighs, lifting them up to meet his hips before gently easing inside of you. He lets out a sharp exhale as he slowly presses deeper, his grip shifting to your waist.

Nothing could compare to the way it feels as he fills you up inch by inch, murmuring praise, telling you how beautiful you are for him. “Darling,” he bites out, gritting his teeth at the pleasure. “If anyone ever tries anything like that with you again, I’ll tear them to shreds.”

You laugh a little, breathless, delirious in the delicious stretch of him inside you. “I won’t stop you. I just might ask to break their nose first.”

He shakes his head, but a small smile plays on his lips before he straightens and starts his rhythm. Slow, even thrusts that leave you grasping at the blankets beneath you, trying to steady yourself in the waves of sensation. He stares down at you, half-drunk on your blood, lips parted and his cheeks flushed.

“You feel incredible,” he breathes. “Gods. You’re incredible.”

Your eyes don’t quite know where to land. They never do. Now, they flutter over his abdomen, taking in the sight of the muscles that ripple and contract with the rolling of his hips. The droplets of sweat that slowly build on his skin, glimmering like crystals. 

His jaw clenches, and his pace starts to quicken, and the feeling of him inside of your aching cunt is just so godsdamned good. His cock stretches you out like it was made for you, and soon your lungs are hardly filling with air. You can’t think, and you can scarcely breathe. All you know is that you’re not going to last much longer.

You tug at the blankets and shut your eyes, and he lets out another soft, aching noise as he thrusts deeper, faster, filling you up, the slick sound of your arousal echoing through the tent and mixing with the heaving of your breaths. You clench around him and he groans, shifting the angle of your hips, rhythm frantic.

“That’s it,” he pants. “Come for me, darling.”

And you do. Your body clenches around him as you cry out, back arching, pleasure overtaking every thought but one: Astarion. Astarion, Astarion, Astarion. Your breaths scrape shallowly through your chest and ecstasy burns through every inch of you, every nerve - until you feel paralyzed. Content, thoroughly fucked and sated, but paralyzed.

 You’ve just started to come back to your senses when Astarion follows you over the edge, a moan tumbling from his lips that sounds remarkably like your name. His hips thrust a few more times, chasing after his pleasure, clumsy movements that slow to a halt as he shuts his eyes. He shudders, then slackens, carefully pulling out of you before he wraps his hands around your thighs and gently lowers them back to the bedroll.

You can barely move, still lost in the aftershocks of pleasure as he cleans you up, smoothing the hair out of your face as he lays next to you.

“You know,” he says, “I think I’m going to ask Gale to make us another one of those scrolls.”

And, gods, all you can do is laugh.

[intoxicated-chan]

Okay, so this is more on the soft angst side, but would you be willing to write a Miguel x F!Reader (or gender neutral if you’d prefer that) where Miguel visits Reader’s universe to check in on them since they haven’t visited the Spider Society headquarters for some time now, and he shows up at her apartment right as she’s in the middle of fixing up her wounds after a massive fight. And so he helps patch up her wounds, and after some intense eye contact between the two of them, they kiss (it should be noted that they’ve been pining over each other awhile now, but neither of them have said anything to the other).

And if it isn’t too much, I have these dialogue prompts you can add as well if you need anymore inspiration (you totally don’t have to use them, I just thought they’d fit perfectly with this scenario).

“Are you alright? Where are you hurt?”

“You don’t have to come over here and take care of me you know. I can clean up my own messes.”

“Can I stay? I'll take the couch.”

If this feels like too much, don’t hesitate to decline this ask! I’m just really excited 😅

I Need You to Stay

✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader

✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ Miguel hasn’t heard from you in weeks, he wonders what’s keeping you so busy.

✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ Inspired by “Stay” by Ari Abdul. Thank you for the request Anon! I hope you enjoy it and are taking care of yourself. Have a wonderful day/night!

✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 887

✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Female reader, mention of violence, mentions of death, light angst, fluffy, blood, open wounds, light swearing…

Four weeks. It has been four weeks since Miguel last saw you. Normally, he wouldn’t be so worried, but it’s been four days. Usually, if you couldn’t make it, you’d talk to him through a screen but that hasn’t happened in the four weeks. Not a call, not a text, not even a simple message. Heck, even Lyla hasn’t heard anything from you.

Miguel sighs, “I can believe I’m saying this right now…” He looks at Peter B. “I’m putting you in charge until I get back.”

“Where are you going?” Peter B. asks.

“I haven’t heard anything from (Y/n) and Lyla can’t reach her. I’ll be back soon.”

Gwen pops up from behind Peter B.,“Can I join you?” She asks, pulling her hood up as she walks closer to Miguel, “I want to see the person who has Miguel O’Hara crushing on.”

“Excuse me?” Miguel cocks an eyebrow.

“You heard me!”

“No.” Walking away from Gwen.

“Why not?” And Gwen quickly follows.

“Because she could be in danger.” Miguel begins adjusting his gizmo to the correct universe.

“You saw me in action, I could help.” Gwen retorts.

“And I said…” A portal opens up, “No.” Then he disappeared and Gwen scoffed.

“I told you he wouldn’t listen.” Peter B. laughs with Mayday in his arms and Miles right beside him, laughing along.

Miguel lands on the rooftop of your apartment with a grunt. He takes a moment to look around and see if anything has changed, and something did. It was midnight in your universe and the lights to your apartment were still on.

He jumps down and easily clings onto the wall next to your window. With his other hand, he slowly slides your window open and slips in, closing it behind him.

“I know you’re here Miguel!” You call out from the other room, “Heard you since you landed on the roof.”

He chuckles as he walks towards the sound of your voice, “I shouldn’t be so surprised, your abilities have always impressed-” His eyes widen as he looks at you.

You sat at the table, bloody bandages on the table, cotton balls and fresh bandages. But the blood still dripping from the open wounds on your arm made his stomach churn, not in a good way.

He swallows thickly as he comes closer, taking your injured arm in his hand, “Who did this to you?” He growls.

“I took care of it.” You tell him, but it doesn’t stop him from worrying, “Nothing left but cuts and bruises… That will heal.” You try to sooth his worry.

“Are you alright? Where are you hurt?”

“You’re holding the only thing that’s hurting right now.”

Miguel uses his webbing to pull up another chair to sit. He grabs the disinfectant and pours some of his on a cotton ball, you hiss at the contact as he cleans up the blood.

“You don’t have to come over here and take care of me, you know. I can clean up my own messes.” You speak through gritted teeth as it still burns.

“...How strong were they?” He speaks through the awkwardness.

“It wasn’t because they were strong.” You admit, “I got carried away, distracted.”

“By what?”

“The bastard was wearing colors similar to yours. I thought it was you for a split second, and in the second, I was open for an attack and they took it… I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” Grabbing the bandages and wrapping up your arm.

“Don’t you remember the first time you brought me on a mission with you. I got distracted.”

“Of course I remember, what kind of idiot throws themself in front of someone.” He looks over the bandages, making sure they’re on correctly and not too tight.

“I thought you were going to die that day, I thought if I could at least save Spider-Man, then for once I did something good in my life.” Your head hangs in shame.

“We cannot save everyone, no matter how hard we try.” Miguel huffs, “At least…” He cups your face, slowly lifting your head to look at him, “I got to save you.”

“Migu-”

“Can I stay?” He asks, “I’ll take the couch.”

“I’m fine, I don’t need someone looking after me.” You pick up the bloody cotton balls and bandages.

“You’re shaking.”

“My arm still hurts and the adrenaline is still pumping.” You lie.

“Please don’t lie to me, (Y/n). You know how much I hate liars.” He comes closer, “Tell me what’s got you so distracted.”

“Everything about you. From your stupid, lovely hair to you entirely.Which is why I stayed away, I didn’t want to be so distracted that I’d cause the team to fall apart.” He cups your face once more and closes the space between you two. His lips falling onto yours.

It made Miguel’s heart beat faster and faster, and for some reason, the pit in his stomach grew even more. But it disappeared when he felt your arms come around his neck, standing on your toes.

He pulls away, “Distracted now?”

“Very.” You mumble.

“Are you letting me stay the night or will we have to go to my place?”

“Are you sure you want to leave Peter in charge for any longer?”

Oh, shit. He forgot about him.

© 2023 Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without permission.

[champagnefountains]

Oh my goodness your Lucifer fic is SO cute! You write him very well! (Exited for possible pt 2) I was wondering since your requests are open if you'd be willing to write something for either Lucifer or Alastor (or possibly both) with a short shy/anxious reader? Super fluffy plz if possible and you're interested!

Hi Anon! Thanks so much for your submission. I hope you'll enjoy what I came up with! I had fun with this one (it got me giggling and kicking my feet or something...)

Word count: 1.2k words. Kinda got carried away, my bad. Genre: (Tooth-rotting) Fluff. Established relationship. Warning: None.

LUCIFER MAGNE with a shy and short S/O:

Lucifer is quite short himself in comparison to a few demons. But, you? Being shorter than him? God, he’ll think you’re the cutest thing ever (plus, it was a massive ego boost on his part). And your timid nature only adds onto it. 

Expect him to be very touchy with you. There isn’t a second moment where he isn’t clinging onto or hugging you. Out in the public or even at the hotel, his arm would somehow always find its way wrapped around your shoulders or waist. He just wants to keep you close to him as much as possible, since you just seem to fit so snug and well in his arms. 

Lucifer loves it so much when you get all shy and flustered around him. His pride just flourishes whenever your face bursts into flames, especially knowing that it was because of him that you’re acting this way. He’ll tease you about it, but not too much because he cares for your poor heart. 

He also knows his million-dollar smile does wonders, so he’ll use it to his advantage. He’ll strike a smile or smirk at you out of nowhere when you would meet eyes, and he’ll revel in the way you’d melt so easily under his gaze. Though, it would be the same for him – his heart would burst with that warm-fuzzy feeling whenever you would send one of your precious smiles his way. This man is smitten and will worship you and the floor you walk on.

Is also super, super supportive of you whenever you get anxious – will do anything in his will to help distract you or alleviate any of your worries, whether it be just holding your hand, talking some nonsense to fill in the silence, or even flying you around to get some fresh air. He'll probably even have a duck-shaped stress ball for you to use whenever you get a bit fidgety.

Additional things I think Lucifer would do: he would give you a lot of forehead/head kisses; HE WOULD TOTALLY SET YOU DOWN ON A COUNTERTOP OR HIS DESK AND KISS YOU FR, OR HE'LL DO SO WHILST CARRY YOU WITH YOUR LEGS STRADDLING HIS WAIST I need self-control; he will shamelessly rant about how adorable you are in front of the others, even if they're all sick of it, 'cause he's just so proud to be your partner!

Lucifer found himself silently admiring you while you were all snuggled up against his chest. After another successful hard day's work, you spent the remainder of the night watching a couple movies together at the hotel’s lounge area.

Noticing a pair of eyes on your figure, you crane your neck up and with a small tilt of your head, you stare back at him in question.

The King suddenly felt his chest swell with so much love and affection for you. You didn’t even know how adorable you looked in his arms right now. Without warning, Lucifer dipped down and pressed his lips against yours, swallowing the surprised yelp that escaped your lips.

As you parted ways, Lucifer grinned widely as your cheeks noticeably began to redden. “W-What was that for?” You pouted.

“Sorry angel, but I just couldn't help it! You looked too cute – I couldn’t not kiss you then.” He stated matter-of-factly. He then leaned once again to press multiple pecks across your face – one on your forehead, on both your cheeks and another lingering one on your lips.

The out-of-the-blue affection had you swiftly burying your face into his chest, a poor attempt made to hide your embarrassment. You could only grumble in defeat as you felt the way his chest shook as he chuckled aloud, evidently amused by your flustered state.

ALASTOR with a short and shy S/O:

Not gonna lie, this man will be so annoying but in an endearing way.

Alastor would tease you endlessly about your height, since the difference would be quite significant – it usually consists of him resting an elbow or his arms on the crown of your head, leaning onto you like you were some sort of personal arm-rest. He personally finds it quite amusing, like a joke that never gets tired. 

Since he isn’t really a huge fan of PDA, he would often give you head-pats. It’s a small, simple gesture but it’s his way of showing affection out in public. He would also often have your arms looped around one of his own whenever you two would walk together, side by side. 

Behind closed doors, I can see him as the type to pull you between his legs, your back pressed against his chest whilst he reads the newspaper or a book in bed. He would then use your head or shoulders to rest his chin on, to peer over you. Sometimes he would even play with your hair, looping them around his fingers whilst he absent-mindedly hums a sweet, little tune. Again, a simple gesture but also very intimate. I'm literally melting just thinking about it. I feel like he would do something similar like this whenever you get anxious – if it helps, he would also make you some tea on the side, and even let you play with his hands/fingers.

Being the huge tease he is, Alastor just loves how shy you get around him. He's the type to say things like: "Dear, do you have a fever? You look a little flushed," or "My, my, your face may be redder than my suit!" just to see you get riled up even more. But if another demon were to talk smack about how shy you were, you will not see them live another day. That's a guarantee.

Additional things I think Alastor would do: he and/or his shadows would help you grab things from high places or would lift you up by the waist for you to grab them; out of pure instinct, he will for sure become extra protective of you; would be the big-spoon in most cases; would tease you by retracting himself using his height whenever you would lean in for a kiss.

Alastor was quick to pick up on a small habit of yours very early on – how you would always hide your smile behind your hands. When he brought it up one day, you sheepishly told him that you were insecure about your smile, which perplexed the deer-demon. 

Just like now, Alastor couldn’t help but raise a brow as you hid your grin behind your palm whilst you chuckled at one of his corny jokes. “Now, now, this won’t do, my dear!” He clicks his tongue, waving a disapproving finger at you, “why must you always hide that gorgeous smile of yours?” 

A blush suddenly breaks out across your cheeks. You unconsciously found yourself looking down, embarrassed by the flattering remark, only for his finger to guide you back up by your chin. He then leans in but stops only centimetres away, his face dangerously close to yours. 

Alastor’s grin only grew wider, seeing how helpless and small you looked – eyes widened like a deer in headlights, and yet filled with anticipation. You looked so, so nervous. And yet, it was so endearing that he wanted nothing more than to scoop you up in his arms. 

“Now, does the ground look much more entertaining than I, dear? I don’t think it can make you smile the way I do.” He teases, his voice intentionally dropping an octave deeper. God, he was going to be the death of you.

[tonycries]

Girl, You Earned It!

Synopsis. Just the típ? Don’t make him laugh.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, “just the típ” trope, REALLY pússydrunk boys, marathon séx, cúmplay, semi-exhíbitionism (Nanami’s), bréeding, Geto’s rings omg, Geto’s a bit mean, creampíe, spítting, FÉRAL Gojo, best friend! Choso, fírst times (Choso’s), chokíng, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.4k

A/N. Smooches to that one anon for inspiring this. Hope y’all have a lovely week <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Handle it.

It was a familiar little song and dance - Toji’s favorite one at that. 

It’s around his fourth orgasm that night, head thrown back against the pillows to watch with a lewd little leer at the way you’re stuttering your limp hips down, down, down his long, swollen cock. Those glossy lips of yours sagging open to whine, “Too full, Toji! C-can’t ngh- handle it-”

Ah, it never gets old. 

Toji finds his brows knitting together in mock concern, cooing in a baritone voice, “Awww, my girl’s poor pussy can’t handle it?” 

At your bleary nod, he snakes a hand down as if to confirm, thumbing apart your puffy folds. All quivering and glistening with his seed in the dim lighting, “She’s too full? Too stuffed to take  hah- even my tip?”

Without any warning, you feel long, thick fingers splay out across your lower stomach. Pushing down - hard to make your poor cunt gush all around him. Coating his aching cock with a sheen of the cum he’d stuffed inside not so long ago. “There we go.” he breathes, sounding so utterly smug, ‘We have space now, right?“

“Oh, fuck yes- Toji– fuck fuck fuck-”

“Shhh shhh, s’alright. And since m’feeling so nice, I promise s’gonna be jus- hah- jus’ the tip.” he grins, eyes so greedy and crazed when he looks down at the way you’re sucking him up so greedily. Your pussy lips bulging around the top of his thick head. “M’kay?”

And Toji’s cock was already so big - so rock-hard - that no matter how much he’d split you apart on his cock before, just his fat head squeezing past your sloppy entrance feels like he’s pushing all the way into your lungs. Your hazy brain. 

Fucking out every coherent thought out of you with each shallow grind up into your gummy walls just to fit inside. Slow, languid - just teasing you. 

“Hah- couldn’t ‘handle me’ my ass.” he’s spitting out from underneath you, mean fingers holding your precarious body still for him to pummel into. “The fuck are you hngh- doing now then, huh? Taking me so well.” 

An embarrassed mewl is being ripped from your throat when that little divot on the end of Toji’s cock is brushing against your sweet spots. Your eyes rolling to the back of your head when you realize that he’s just barely managed to squeeze his tip into your tight pussy, “I-I ngh-”

To which his palm comes down with a sharp smack! on the fat of your ass. 

“Jus’ the tip n’ you already can’t hah- speak?” he grins up at you, painful cock twitching with delight when you clench around him at the sting. Loving this slow, agonizing torture for the both of you. “Use your words properly, doll.”

You huff, nails digging into Toji’s plush pecs to stabilize yourself on top of him. “Thought I was too- hah- full. Thought I couldn’t handle havin’ you inside me again.”

“Heh- well what did I t-tell, ya?” he grunts, hips still thrusting - still pushing in mindless, semi-thrusts up. Wondering if you could feel his cum sloshing around inside you like he could. “As if I don’t know my girl’s pussy- As if I can’t handle this p-pussy. As if this pussy can’t handle me-” 

One hand dances back down to push further against your front. Dredging up every last glob of his seed down your sloppy cunt, forming a creamy ring at his base that he groans at. “Y’can handle it now, right?” The other glides the pads of his fingers across your needy clit, making you arch your body down in surprise. His cock slipping deeper down your pussy, “Fuuuuck yeah, you can definitely handle it now.”

“Toji.” you let out a warning. Your already-ravaged cunt so sensitive. Fingers tightening to leave neat little marks of red down his sculpted skin, “Thought you p-promised it was jus’ gonna be the ah- tip.”

Because his movements were getting deeper. Dangerous. 

Still shallow - but purposeful enough that you were sliding way past “just his tip”. And you could feel that sinfully prominent vein from about halfway down his shaft massaging against your sweet spots. 

Yet Toji only flashes you a devilish grin, no trace of guilt anywhere. Eyes half-lidded and devouring your adorable pout. “I did.” Giving you just barely enough time to relax before the hand firm on your stomach rests at your waist. Pulling - dragging you all the way down his massive cock. Tugged down like such a slut until he was buried balls-deep, your puffy folds kissing his hilt, your pelvis grinding against those tufts of black at his. “For now, that is.”

Ah, this is his favorite part.

He doesn’t waste even a second before making use of those muscled hips, giving you one, long thrust to haul your slobbering cunt all the way from the very end of his fat head down until he physically couldn’t anymore. 

Bruising. Fully. Fucking every false complaint out of you when his cock is finally hitting the back of your needy pussy. 

“Think s’time for you to handle all of me now, doll.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - “Are you muted?”

Nanami Kento hated working overtime. And he especially hated having to sit at home on his desk, sighing during those droning online meetings which really could’ve been a five-minute conversation at work on Monday.

Which is where you came in.

“Mhm, of course m’muted, my love. Camera’s also off.” he answers your previous question with a slow, sensual drawl into your ear. Thumb gliding across your puffy cunt as he echoes patiently for the first time that hour, “But if you’re gonna be here then you better behave, my love.” Bouncing his knee to shuffle your quivering body where it was perched so prettily on his lap - and his aching, rock-hard cock. “Any deeper than the tip and you hngh- know how s’gonna end.”

A promise. 

But it’s been like this for so long now - too long, you think.

Your gummy walls squeeze desperately at that sensitive slit on Nanami’s length, lapping at his weeping precum. Wrists tugging uselessly where he’d tied them together behind your back with his familiar yellow tie. “But Ken, I really want-”

“I know I know, darling.” he presses a gentle kiss to the side of your pouty lips. Hushing those cute, whiny cries of yours that make his swollen cock twitch wildly, balls squeezing so painfully with the sweet sweet temptation to just stuff your tight pussy full. “But if I-”

“Nanami, have you completed the progress report for the client tomorrow?”

Instantly, your husband is in work mode, clearly his ragged voice lightly before hitting the Unmute button. “Yes, Higuruma I’ve…”

But oh his actions were anything but. 

Free hand still drawing quick, methodical circles on your clit - just daring you to make a noise while he continues so unfairly with the meeting as if nothing is happening. His deep voice rumbling in his chest with satisfaction, and yet you’re left helpless and aching for more.

“But Ken.” you breathe into his ear, just low enough that the microphone couldn’t pick up. Pushing past the vice-like hold that he had on your hips to seat his delicious cock further and further inside your gummy walls. “Wan’ more. Please, I’ve been patient for so long.”

“-and the charts from last week I’ll have to email.” Nanami rattles off, all business-like, the authoritative tone sending your cunt beading your juices all down his already-soaked cock. Hardened eyes brushing briefly against yours, though he still addresses his business partner, “I’ll make sure to take care of that later.”

And fuck the shivers this sends down your spine have you trembling in Nanami’s practised touch. 

Bucking your hips needily into his hand, your slick leaves a lewd little sheen all over his palm, his wrist, all the way down to that metal wrist watch digging into your skin.

“T-take care of it now, Ken.” you’re mewling stubbornly, fighting against those restraints. 

Letting your pussy lips fuck back into his thick cock. Deeper. Needier. Sucking him up so good that he’s letting go of your hips to mute himself again.

And fuck if you weren’t going to take the opportunity to just slam yourself down Nanami’s massive length, all the way until you could feel his abs against your ass. That little divot on his thick head smashing against your sweet spots, molding your plushy walls to the shape of his entire cock. 

“O-oh fuck.” he breathes, words cracking ever-so-slightly at the end. “The meeting- thought I said just the- hah you’re gonna be the death of me, my love.”

Before you can respond, Higuruma’s chuckling from behind the screen, cutting through the heady air in the room. “Heh, guess you’ve had enough of this since you’re already muted Nanami. Fair enough, I’ve kept you long enough.” 

And the words ring in the air, Nanami’s eyes unwavering from his laptop. Turned crazed as he looks to you, a hand already beginning to shut the screen.

“You’re free to go, make up your time with the wife or somethi-”

Slamming it closed. 

Followed shortly by you - being slammed onto the ground. Nanami’s hand underneath your face, cushioning the impact when you’re shoved face-first. Him mounting on you in a split second, strong thighs flexing with the effort to fuck you right there right then into the hardwood floor. Depraved. Animalistic. 

Not faltering for even a moment when he’s pulling you back by the tie digging into your wrists, sure to leave marks. Using the moment to watch the way your ass ripples every time he’s ramming into you. 

“Ken- fuck! Kento-” you sob like a mantra when he hikes up a leg of his to hit all those angles that have him bruising your sweet spots. Thrusts long, hard. Not leaving a single spot inside your gummy cunt untouched. “S’too good too good too good- hah- wan’ed this for so long since you were on that meeting. So hngh- close.”

“M-me too.” Nanami responds, sounding nothing like the put-together business man he was a few moments ago. Almost crazed now. Unpredictable. 

So it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same. 

All it takes are a few filthy, nasty strokes of his sensitive cock into your snug pussy, of his fingers toying and teasing your clit - and then you’re cumming so fucking hard around him. 

Your walls sucking him in a smooth staccato like you were trying to milk the fucking soul out of Nanami while he drills into you through the pleasure. Not even thinking twice before spilling into your greedy pussy himself. 

Thick, creamy spurts of cum that warm you from the inside out. Reaching all those hidden spots inside while he pumps it deeper and deeper.

“Oh, my love.” Nanami groans when he pools the seed dribbling out of your cunt with ease. Making a mess of your pussy down below, of that creamy ring at his hilt. “Don’t think m’done making up for my overtime yet.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - Battle of wills

“Awww.” you hear Geto’s deep voice cooing softly in your ear. Running his mouth smugly - as if he wasn’t just smashing the angry, soaked tip of his cock into you right now. “You can’t even talk right now. You can’t even breathe.”

Fuck, if it was any less true then you might’ve argued - maybe spat out a hissy little comment. 

But, instead, you’re managing out a wet gurgle, Geto’s thick, ringed fingers tightening where they were wrapped prettily around your neck. “I-I-”

The other draws languid, torturous circles on your sensitive clit, just as teasing as the way his hips were just barely pushing past your sopping wet slit. Nudging your honeyed walls with only his fat head. “What was that, gorgeous?”

“I said.” you gasp, when your beloved boyfriend mercifully lets his grip loosen ever-so-slightly to let you answer. “I- I’m going to win the bet, Sugu.”

Ah, the bet. That stupid, thoughtless little challenge you’d posed just a few hours ago about who’d break first if Geto was to fuck your tight pussy with just his tip. 

Who knew it would end up with your face pushed into the silky covers of your pillow, both of you barely-lucid and losing your minds as Geto pounded into you as much as he allowed himself to? Both your pathetic prides holding back, just waiting for the other to break first.

Geto’s voice was tinged with amusement, something so dark and mellow as he purrs against the shell of your ear. Cold metal rings digging into your flesh, you choke. “Well then…” His sinful abs flex ominously against your back, “-we’ll just have to see, right?”

“H-hey!” you gasp for air when he slams his hips forwards, letting your dripping cunt envelope him all the way down to that wide rim of his slit. 

“What?” he muses in response, circles speeding up and so so messy on your sensitive nub now. “S’jus’ the tip right? Exactly what I did. I’m-” Before moving again, in sultry, purposeful rolls of his slutty hips back and forth. “-not gonna be the hah- one losing this bet.”

Fuck, you’d forgotten how competitive your boyfriend was - always going easy, until he decided he wanted to win.

Geto’s eyes flit between his fingers, blocking your airway, and the wide wide rim of your sloppy entrance being stretched upon his thick head. 

Shit, the sight itself was heavenly enough that it had him almost second-guessing his resolve and stuffing you full like he wanted to. Almost. 

“Close to surrender?” he’s panting out when a few more shallow, teasing half-strokes has your gummy walls clenching around him like you’re trying to drag out something delicious. Exactly the way he loves - exactly the way he’s addicted to. And, usually, Geto would tell you over and over how much he loves it - but, this time, his ego makes him simply leave a wet trail of kisses down your arched spine. Murmuring heatedly into your ear, “No shame in ngh- giving up, y’know.”

Harder. Deeper - almost. 

Squealing airily, “M’not- m’not giving up.”

Immediately, Geto’s chuckling when he squeezes your pretty neck tighter, “M’gonna choke you harder when you lie, gorgeous. Now tell me-” Just wringing out syrupy moans of his name with each push. Each urgent flick of his fingers on your clit - not even circles anymore, fuck no he was too far gone for that now. Just messy, senseless patterns. “Y’gonna lose like my ah- p-pretty girl or am I gonna hafta keep treating you like my bitch?”

“But-” you wheeze. 

“I hngh- also really wanna fuck this cute cunt properly, y’know/”

Your vision’s blurring now, lungs straining for air. Yet you’re so cockdrunk that all you can focus on is the lewd curve of Geto’s dick, barely even realizing when your hips are trying to inch down for more. Jolting with each rub of his thumb against your clit. 

Harder. Deeper. 

“Sugu!” you’re screaming when you recklessly slam yourself back to meet his ruthless cadence. All the way back until your ass was pressing flush against the v-line jutting out from Geto’s toned pelvis. Shoving his cock so deep inside your plushy cunt it felt like his fat tip was making its mark against your lungs.

You lost - gladly. 

And for all his confidence, Geto Suguru is shocked. Half-lidded eyes flying open, teeth biting down on his lower lip so hard with the effort to hold back his disbelieving moans it was like he was trying to draw blood. 

“O-oh oh my god. Fuck fuck fuck fuck-” he shudders, jaw falling slack, swollen cock colliding in and out with your needy cunt. 

You send him a delirious half-glance, “Are you ok-”

The hand rested around your throat immediately comes down - finally letting you breathe. Only to just slam your head back down onto the pillow so you can’t see how utterly fucked he was. Keeping you still, “Just shut up and cum f’me, gorgeous.”

And oh you do - all over Geto’s pretty cock, your elastic walls molding around him to feel every ridge and bump as he fucks you through your wave of high. Hard. Fast. Sending electricity down your veins every time he hits the bullseye of your g-spot. Over and over and-

“H-hey, Sugu-” your teary face manages to look up from the pillow. Gummy walls still spasming around him, “Best out of three?”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - FIRST?!

It was a simple favor, really - just a way to help your dear best friend lose his virginity.

To shut up those adorable whines about how much he dreams of feeling your- a pussy wrapped around his cock. And when he looked to you for help with those dark, puppy-dog eyes? Well, how could you ever say no?

Which is why you have Choso splayed out on your mattress, hazy gaze bulging when you straddle his toned hips. Sliding his tight boxers down his thighs - fuck, he was massive. A delicate, innocent pink at his angry head, leaking endless precum all the way down, down, down his creamy length. 

“Jus’ the tip, right?” you hum. Cunt throbbing at the sight of his swollen cock twitching up in interest at the mere sound of your sultry tone. “Jus’ to have you feel me?”

“God, yes.” he whispers - barely even audible, when you slot his leaky tip between your puffy folds. Letting your pussy drool your sweet sweet juices all over him. “Yes yes yes hurry please need to feel you- just the tip just the-” Choso’s voice breaks when you just barely press him past that first ring of resistance. “Oh- oh fuuuuck this is what it feels like? Hngh-”

The stretch of his fat head inside was so sinful. So maddening and shit- if this was what it was like with barely half of his tip in, then it drove you insane to wonder what it’d be like if you took in all of him. Smirking, “Mhm? You hah- like this, Cho?”

Fuck, hearing that little nickname right now makes Choso get even girthier, cock swelling painfully to stretch your sloppy hole.

“L-like this?” he asks, voice ragged with genuine disbelief. Barely-lucidly bringing one of your hands up to his face to press a soft, lingering kiss. “Oh, baby, I l-love this.”

He’s inching his thick head in further and further, kissing down your neck wetly. 

You’re choking when he starts up a messy, urgent rut of his hips upwards - untimed and sloppy like he didn’t know how to use his unforgiving cock yet, like he didn’t even realize what he was doing. Just bare, shallow little thrusts that have your hole stretching out and molding to the shape of his needy tip. 

Babbling, “Fuck, what’ve you done to me? How can you f-feel so good- how can you-”

Over and over and-

“O-oh, Cho!” you gasp when he accidently brushes up against one of your hidden sweet spots. Eyes going wide, jaw falling into an awestruck “oh” at as you buck and clamp down so fucking tight around him. Begging, “There- fuck fuck there wan’ more- hngh wan’ more of you, please.” 

The only response you’re getting is a string of incoherent profanity. Shit, Choso thinks he’s gonna pass out - that he might just paint your pretty pussy white already. 

But because he couldn’t stand the embarrassment of that, he wraps his big arms so tight around your waist. Running a palm to cradle your scalp, he hisses when he presses a kiss to your forehead, “Can’t.” And the word has barely left his sagging lips before Choso gives an unplanned, jagged thrust up into your cunt. Body moving before his mind to bully his swollen cock inside, spreading your puffy folds along the veins down his length. “Can’t- just the tip- shouldn’t.” 

“S’okay, Cho–”

“But-”

You were his best friend. His favorite person - and he always did feel guilty for thinking of you, cock in hand, on those long lonely nights. So this is the last thing he should be doing. 

But, oh it was like a dam had been broken open, and despite his words, Choso’s mouth is salivating at the thought. 

Pushing in sweet, desperate bucks of his hips to just drag your sloppy pussy down deeper and deeper - unknowingly, all the way down to his soaked base. Yet Choso was still pushing and pushing deliriously. 

“Just the tip just the- shouldn’t do this-” he pants against your open mouth, nipping and sucking on your bottom lips. “Only ever ngh- dreamed of this.” Each word is punctured by a rough ram into your dripping cunt, molding your gummy walls to that upwards curve of his dick. Reeling out a honeyed ah! ah! ah! from you every time his pretty veins were pulsing against your sensitive spots. “Shouldn’t ohhh I shouldn’t- fuck!”

Choso loses the end of his sentence - and his sanity - when he dares take a greedy look downwards. 

Being met with the absolutely obscene sight of your poor cunt being split apart on him. Realizing he was now very much past his tip, veering into the dangerous territory of your pussy lips kissing his toned pelvis, milking him until there was nothing more. 

“Heh.” His glassy eyes look up when you giggle, “So much for hah- ‘jus’ the tip’, huh?”

Choso grins - a languid, pussydrunk grin you never thought you could even imagine on your sweet best friend. Purring lowly, “Oh, my girl.Because of you m’never gonna be satisfied with just the tip ever again.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Please, please, please

“Apology not accepted, brat.” Sukuna spits out over your blubbering cries, still holding your squirming hips so stupidly still around his fat tip. Nothing more, nothing less. “Nuh uh, this is all yer gonna get if you wanna hah- complain so much.”

Now, Ryomen Sukuna is a strong man, always has been. He hasn’t missed those concerned looks strangers give you when he’s out in public with you, or the way your coworkers’ eyes widened in shock when they first saw him. 

The strongest - for everything except you. 

So, when he overhears you gossiping with your little friends about how maybe he’s too big - how it’s a bit of a hassle to lose your ability to walk every night - then, well, that spiteful little part of himself decides it’s time to give you exactly what you want. 

You’re wriggling your ass downwards, gummy walls sucking him up trying to sink further and further down Sukuna’s dizzying cock, “B-but Kuna-” 

“B-b-but Kuna.” He mocks in a pitch higher than normal, two thick fingers coming up to squish your tear-stained cheeks together into an embarrassing pout. Smirking down greedily, “But what? You were runnin’ this pretty mouth earlier, what happened now, hm? Too cockdrunk?”

And fuck, he didn’t expect you to be in the state to think up an answer to that question - he didn’t think you even heard it at first, too busy trying to milk his cock for all he was worth. 

But oh you always did surprise him. 

Teary, overstimulated gaze locking with his dark one when you give an unsteady, determined nod. Whimpering, “F-fuck yes.” 

Unbeknownst to himself - and his little scheme to punish you - your lewd little answer has Sukuna’s hips jutting forwards. Bullying past your gummy resistance to spearhead just a tinge more than his fat head into your sloppy entrance. 

“O-oh.” he groans, dropping his head feverishly into the crook of your neck. Trying to get back some control over his own body, but shit just an ounce of the way your slutty cunt was massaging every ridge and curve of his swollen cock and the king of curses just breaks. He’s biting his sharp canines down on your lower lip in what can barely be called a kiss. Messy. “Oh you little minx. You evil, evil-” He gives a punctuated half-thrust. “-brat.”

And that’s all it takes for Sukuna to be drunk on your cunt. To sink his achingly hard cock in so deep that it has his heavy balls smacking your ass, his leaky tip pressing a harsh peck to your poor cervix. 

Deeper. 

Hips immediately snapping forwards to replicate those purposeful, long slams you were tittering about just earlier today. 

“You’re so fuckin- hah-” he sucks in a shaky breath when you clench down on him hard. Absent-mindedly, Sukuna toys his free thumb down to roll against your neglected clit, wondering if this was part of your evil plan. Spitting against your kiss-bitten lips, “-unfair. Riling me up, complaining about it being ‘too much’ n’ then taking it like such a slut.”

It’s all you can do to moan brokenly, “Wasn’t- wasn’t complaining.”

For this, you’re getting a punishing smack! to your ravaged clit, immediately followed by an apologetic circle of Sukuna’s fingers. Harder. “So now you’re gonna ngh- lie while m’fucking you like this?”

As if to prove his point - and maybe drag out a few more of your honeyed cries on his cock - he’s reeling his hips back. Letting his throbbing veins massage against every inch of your elastic walls until it was just the ends of his thick head left inside you now. “Really? Real confident for someone that was just begging for my cock, y’know.”

“N-no!” you gasp, panicked. Your ankles manage to lock around Sukuna’s sculpted waist, digging into those sinful dimples at the end of his spine to push his length in deeper - just the way you liked it. “No no no- ngh was a compliment. A compliment I swear! Was bragging ah-”

He leers oh so cockily, “Oh really?”

Only growing at your urgent nod, your glossy lips falling into such a pretty pout, “Promise. Would n-never hah- complain about your cock, Kuna.”

Fuck, did you know how to drive him insane. 

To have him playing right into your pretty lil’ hands. 

Because each and every word spilling out of your delirious mouth has Sukuna fucking you deeper and deeper into the mattress. So animalistic with the way he was plunging into you like some glorified sextoy, the curve of his dick rubbing spots inside your gummy walls that you didn’t even know existed. That have you seeing stars. That have him forgetting that stupid promise of “just the tip”.

Too big? Fucking hilarious, you were lucky if you could make it out alive tonight with the way all the blood in his massive body was rushing to Sukuna’s dick, stretching him to an obscene girth. 

“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck-” he’s grunting with each nudge against your cervix, your g-spot. Bruising you from the inside out. “Well then…” He’s wrestling your nodding face towards him, thrusts growing more and more erratic with each moan. “-let’s give you some more to brag about, hm?”

♡ GOJO SATORU - (Mind)break!

No one would believe their ears if they could see the great Gojo Satoru right about now. That Gojo Satoru? The strongest? The cocky lil’ shit that upturned desks and skipped out on every single jujutsu meeting?

Of course, it wasn’t the same Gojo Satoru that came straight to you after a particularly taxing jujutsu mission, eyes wide - crazed, a feral grin on him that’d never left. Of course, it wasn’t the same Gojo Satoru that had to take only one look at you before ripping your poor clothes off, pent-up jujutsu still thrumming behind his fingers where he folded you into such a mean mating press. Making you cum over and over selfishly while he hasn’t even once. 

Of course. 

But here he was - around your third orgasm, his face buried nose-deep at your erratic pulse, powerful hips jerky and stuttering while he tried to keep his swollen cock controlled, buried inside your heavenly cunt still only till that pretty pink slit at his head. 

Because this was Gojo Satoru, and he didn’t want to break you just yet. 

“Aww, look at you- fuck!” Gojo whines when the tip of his sensitive cock brushes up against another one of your sweet spots. Reeling back ever-so-slightly to spit right onto your bulging cunt once. Twice. “Fuck just look at you, sweetheart.”

And before you can react, a large hand is enveloping your cheeks. Sending a buzz of electricity from his touch to where he was tilting your head down, forcing you to look at the obscene sight below you. 

Your ravaged cunt all messy and glistening with the excess of Gojo’s saliva, slobbering even filthier down the head of his unforgiving cock. Red and angry, each slow, controlled grind just begging for you to take him whole. 

The little gasp that leaves your candied lips is enough for Gojo to moan gutturally, “Ohhh look at that- look at that. Makes me wanna hah-” His ragged words trail off, thighs flexing like they were about to shove himself up, up, up and- only for your boyfriend to gather whatever’s left of his sanity with a sharp intake of breath. “-wanna break you.”

Stubbornly, you jut out your kiss-bitten lower lip, grinding your hips up pathetically to try and take some more greedy inches for yourself. “Why not? Wan’ more than jus’ the tip, gimme ngh all of it.”

“Heh, my needy girl. So- so cock-hungry, huh?” Gojo spits, another steady stream of saliva hitting your waiting tongue- wait, when did you even let it loll out like that? He plows on, thumb gliding over to gloss it over your lips. “Wish I could- ohhh I wish so bad. But m’too fuckin’ hah- worked up after that mission. Can’t handle- can’t control hngh-”

Each word sounds stilted - pained. And Gojo’s giving minute, almost-unidentifiable thrusts puncturing each one. Slowly but surely losing his sanity as well as his restraint. 

If either of you were in any better state of mind, maybe you’d have noticed that glowing tinge in his hazy eyes, the little crackles of purple lighting dancing down his milky skin. 

But, no, instead you’re whining, “I don’t care, Toru–”

“No you d-don’t get to do that.” he gasps, eyes going wide at that unfair nickname. Giving a dangerous half-thrust into your gummy walls. “No no no no you don’t get to do that. M’only giving you the tip right now.” And you’re being gifted a messy little graze of Gojo’s plump lips against your own, hissing when you bite down. “Don’t know the ngh- extent of my power. S’unstable- could kill- hah destroy-”

“You talk too much.” 

Gojo can sense it before it happens - of course he can. And he knows he should stop it, for the safety of you and less importantly, the entirety of Japan. He knows he should keep fucking you with just his fat head, keeping as much composure as possible. 

But Gojo lets it happen anyway.

Letting those wobbly legs of yours dangling around his broad shoulders lock in an instant to just nudge his body forwards. Sighing when you feel the stretch of his rock-hard cock making their mark past his thick head. 

The lights go out. All of them - all across Tokyo, in fact. Shining too bright that they burst into little shards of energy.

Yet it doesn’t matter to you or Gojo, his electric-blue eyes burning bright into the darkness. Tiny flicks of lightning illuminating your ruined bedroom as his entire body stiffens for a split-second. Jolting like he’d come to life - and in one, fluid movement, he was buried inside your tight pussy. Fully. 

Fuck, Gojo’s stretched so taut. Something ugly, dangerous snapping in him when that’s all it takes for him to be releasing thick rope after rope of his seed. Cumming and cumming so hard it’s like he can’t stop. Won’t stop. 

Knows he won’t for a very, very long time even when you reach your high for the fourth time that night. Milking him for every single drop. 

Even when his cum paints your gummy walls a white to match his hair, filling you up so much that it overspills. Forming a lewd little pool below that makes you tremble impossibly deeper down Gojo’s still hard cock. 

And the only thing you can hear in the moment the low crackle of jujutsu in the suddenly pressurized air, and the sinful squelches as Gojo steadies his hips back dangerously. Readying. Letting out a raspy, barely-audible whisper, “If we make it out of this alive, remind me to buy you plan B, sweetheart.”

A/N. Tony stop writing Higuruma cameos challenge GO! (Failed)

Plagiarism not authorized.

[josephandrewstarkey]

omggg i have a request for drew!!! so basically during the thirst tweets interview reader who is not apart of the obx cast comes in after running some errands and just sits down and weight for drew because they have a lunch date after. she reacts to all the tweets about drew and jokes saying some dirty stuff about drew’s tweets and the cast just loves her so muchhh!!!

your wish is my command, i hope you like this anon!! <33

thirst tweets

warnings: mentions of smut

drew starkey x reader

Drew and the rest of the Outer Banks cast were sitting around, getting ready to read some crazy thirst tweets. The energy was wild, with everyone cracking jokes and passing the phone around. In the middle of all the laughter, Y/N quietly walked in after running some errands. She slipped into the room and sat off to the side, not wanting to interrupt. Drew saw her, and they exchanged a smile, but he stayed focused on the interview.

Y/N tried so hard not to laugh as the cast read some insane thirst tweets. The way they reacted was hilarious—everyone was either screaming or trying to keep it together. It was total chaos in the best way. Then Drew got handed the phone, and his face went red when he read aloud, “Drew Starkey could rail me any day.”

“i’m honored” he said while holding back a smile. Y/N had to cover her mouth to stop herself from laughing too loudly. Drew just gave this half-smirk, half-shocked look while the rest of the cast teased him relentlessly.

When the interview finally wrapped up, Y/N stuck around and started talking with the cast. They absolutely loved her—everyone was all over her, chatting and joking like she was part of the family. She fit right in, and it was obvious they thought the world of her.

Later, at lunch, Y/N couldn’t hold back anymore. “Okay, those thirst tweets??” she giggled, playing with her drink. “I’ve never seen you blush that hard.”

Drew rolled his eyes, grinning. “Yeah people are wild.”

Y/N leaned forward, eyes twinkling. “Especially that one tweet… What was it again? Oh right, ‘Drew Starkey could rail me any day.’”

Drew raised an eyebrow, smirking. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, huh?”

Y/N shrugged, teasing. “Well, ... I kinda agree with it.”

His smirk deepened, and his voice dropped. “Oh, you do?”

She bit her lip, feeling her heart race a little. “yeah.”

Drew leaned in closer, his eyes locked on hers. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she tried to keep her cool. “Maybe.” she whispered, her voice almost trembling.

Drew didn’t say another word. He paid the bill quickly, and before she knew it, they were racing back to his place. As soon as they stepped inside, the energy shifted. The teasing from earlier was gone, replaced with something way more intense. Drew pulled her close, his lips crashing into hers as they stumbled towards the bedroom, their hands all over each other. It felt electric, like they couldn’t get close enough.

Once they were alone in the quiet of the room, everything slowed down. Drew’s touch was soft but deliberate, like he was memorizing every inch of her.

The moment they reached the bed, he gently pushed her down, hovering over her as he kissed her deeply. His hands roamed her body before gripping the fabric of her clothes. With one swift motion, he ripped them off, tossing them aside without a second thought.

that was a looonggg night

[hysteria-things]

do a fanfic with leg humping, i beg you, ON MY KNEES 🙏🙏🙏 and with hand kink😜 i don’t care about the back story, i don’t care if it’s matt or chris just do it please 😞

RESTART

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!matt x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you couldn’t care about the movie playing, and matt has an idea to keep you occupied. however, you’re not prepared for the punishment when you don’t listen.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUTTY SMUT, swearing, thigh riding, hand kink, edging, overstimulation, degradation, spanking, AFTERCARE

SAFE WORD IS MENTIONED BUT NOT USED!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,021

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this is kind of intense??? but i like it??? is that crazy???

sorry for no post yesterday. i’ve been having a not so good week and was exhausted/unmotivated when i got home :(

BUT enjoy reading anon! this one was a little hard, i hope i did okay :)

you’ve always been fascinated by your boyfriend’s hands. how much bigger they are than yours, how his rings fit perfectly on his fingers; it’s no coincidence that he wears them on only his pointer and pinky.

the both of you sit on the couch. you guys just started watching a movie, but you couldn’t care less about it.

you wished matt’s hands were roaming your body right now, possibly holding your throat as he rails into you. maybe even—

“are you even watching?” he says, snapping you out of your x-rated thoughts.

“yeah.” you lie.

he can tell in an instant that you’re bullshitting him. “you know i don’t like liars.”

“but—”

“get up and strip.”

you blink at him before getting up, slowly taking off your layers until you’re fully nude. he puts his foot on the coffee table across from where he’s seated.

“sit on my thigh.” he smirks. “and ride it.”

you stare blankly at him, wondering where this burst of confidence came from. however, you’re turned on nonetheless.

he chuckles. “i could read you like a book, y/n. you think i don’t know you were thinking about me fucking you right now?”

you blush and he continues. “i want to watch the movie. it’s either my thigh or nothing, sweetheart.”

you walk over hesitantly to straddle his thigh. you feel so exposed since he still has his clothes on.

his veiny hands caress your sides as you start to rock your hips. you can’t help but to hold them, the warmth feeling nice on your cold ones.

matt’s chin rests on your shoulder so he can still watch the movie in front of him. you moan and shudder when you feel the fabric on his jeans hit the right spot on your clit.

the pressure feels so good, your moans growing louder each time you roll your hips.

he slaps your ass, making you yelp and jolt. “shh.” he shushes. “i can’t hear what they’re saying.”

you whine in protest but nod anyway. the voices on the TV are muffled for you. the only focus is you getting off on your boyfriend’s thigh. you’re so needy and can’t help but look pathetic because of it.

“matt.” you whisper in your ear, the warm feeling in your stomach starting to build. “i-i’m gonna cum.”

“no.” he starts. “hold it until the movie’s done. the movie you wanted to watch in the first place.

“please ma—”

he slaps your ass again to shut you up. you moan loudly at the hit; enjoying it.

your hips get faster and start to tense. there’s no way you can hold it for that long.

“n-no matt y-you don’t understand,” you whine, feeling your cum start to drip down his leg.

“it’s… too late.” you pant, slowing down your hips until you stop. he tuts, taking the remote that’s next to him and pressing the replay button on the TV. he grabs your throat with those goddamn hands, forcing you to look into his eyes.

“i will restart this movie every time you cum without my permission, you understand me?”

matt had to restart the movie three times. every time you whimper an ‘i’m sorry’ into his ear, but it does nothing for him.

you’re sweating and overstimulated, and your pussy is swollen because of it. the inside of your thighs and his pants are soaked with your fluids, even the couch is messy. one of your buttcheeks are red and numb from the numerous times he spanked it.

you moan softly, your brain feeling fuzzy. you grind into his thigh still, but you start to become weak.

he takes the two fingers with no rings on them and shoves them into your mouth without warning. you gag at how deep they went.

“quiet. i want to hear,” he demands again.

you suck on his fingers and roll your eyes back. tear streaks stain your cheeks from the number of times you cried from pleasure.

“matt.” you muffle around his fingers. “it hurts.”

“that doesn’t sound like the safe word, love,” he says as he kisses your cheek.

he’s not wrong. yeah, it hurts, but it hurts too fucking good. you love being under matt’s control, even though something as intense as this is rare.

you start to slobber over his fingers. the feeling comes back, and you're surprised you have an orgasm left. you dig harder into his thigh and let out a sob.

“shh, it’s okay.” he soothes. “there’s only a few minutes left. you can hold it, yeah?”

your vision starts to fade, and matt removes his fingers from your mouth. you can’t moan anymore; only pant and whimper.

you’re not the only one that’s in pleasurable pain. matt’s been hard as fuck since this started, but right now he wants it all about you. not him.

the end credits start to play, and you sigh with relief. your last orgasm immediately washes over you. he wraps his arms around you as you shake uncontrollably in his grasp. “there you go.” he says as you cum for the fourth time on his thigh.

you collapse on top of his chest, ‘thank you’ leaving your lips over and over again.

“come on,” he says, swiftly picking you up and walking to the bathroom.

he runs a hot bath and gently places you in it. he takes some water to wash the tears away on your face.

matt whispers praises to you as he washes your hair. you stare at his face through tired eyes, admiring how he always takes care of you no matter what.

the way he moves his hands around your body to clean you up rubs you the right way.

after the bath, he carries you in a towel and lays you down softly on your shared bed. he goes over to the dresser and grabs a matching pajama set.

he carefully dresses you and puts you under the covers. he tucks you in, kissing your cheek when he realizes you fell asleep.

“goodnight, my beautiful girl,” he whispers in your ear, kissing you one last time.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom

[darlingdreadwrites]

I read your Toby fics, and I really love your writing:D

I see your open with requests and I wanted to ask a Toby x final girl reader?

They just kept fighting against him, and he somehow gained a crush on the person he is supposed to kill? It's fine if you don't ;D

I WAS SO EXCITED TO WRITE THIS I SQUEALED WHEN I READ IT!! i hope i do right by you, my lovely anon.

pairing: Ticci Toby x Final Girl F!Reader

summary: Toby thought you'd be an easy target since you were just a girl. He should've gone with the easy kill when he had the chance.

contains: getting chased by a man wielding two hatchets, slight pov switches but it's still in second person, idk what else to put

warning: violence, gore (more like imagery is gore-y), MEAN TOBY, reader gets hurt, toby gets hurt, me not knowing how to write fight/tense scenes and the logistics that go with them, barely any talking cuz i think toby would be too embarrassed by his stutter

word count: 1.6k

masterlist

a.n: when i read final girl in the request, i pictured reader wearing those outfits that female japanese horror game protags wear (picture fatal frame). i’m gonna keep the end ambiguous for you because my freak brain wants it all to work out perfectly for them, but the other part of my brain wants to keep it realistic cuz there’s no way in HELL i’d let someone forcing me to run live. if you want me to continue where i left off i’d be so glad to (and you can pick whichever type of “route” you want). ENJOY!!

The cool, night air gave you chills all over as your feet pounded against the soft forest floor under your feet. With every quick step you took, another short burst of breath escaped your lips. It felt like you were being pushed back by a sudden gust of wind, but the trees continued to look blurry in the corners in your eyes, and that was a good thing. You kept your pace – even if it felt like the breeze kept poking needles into the cuts on your skin.

You had decided to actually dress up today but stayed mindful enough for the fall weather. So, you weren’t exactly dressed for the occasion. Maybe next time you decide you want to get attacked by some psycho swinging hatchets; you’ll be a little more fucking prepared. 

The whistling of said hatchet reminds you of why you were running. The sound of his weapon whirred by as it lodges itself deep into the bark of a tree. It’s already behind you as your mind yelled at your body to keep up. His other hatchet thwacks into a tree too close to your head and you scream involuntarily. You stumble to a stop stupidly, stabilize yourself, and drag your body to pivot and sprint to the right.

You weren’t sure how long you could keep going. But - as much as your lungs burned - that buzz that came from fighting for your life nagged at you like a bitch. You don’t care how much your body hurts because you will deal with the consequences later.

You’re not going to let yourself die.

Toby grunted as frustration and anger seethed in his veins. Wrapping his hands around the handle of his hatchet, he kept his eyes trained on you as he struggled to pull the thing free. He’d all but forgotten that the other one was a few feet away. He wasn’t normally fond of losing his favorite toys. He wouldn’t lose you either.

You were a stupid, stupid girl, after all.

His head violently twitched to the side compulsorily when he finally dislodged his weapon. A few wood chips flew out and landed on the muddy leaves below. He stood there, taking and letting out deep breaths.

He thinks about what might be going through your mind as you keep running. Maybe about how you were gonna get out of here, call the pigs, and have some nurse tend to the wounds he gave you. He smiled and tightened his grip on his hatchet as he fantasized about your naïve hope. He knew these woods like the back of his hand.

You wouldn’t make it out of here in one piece.

You slow down as the structure of a house comes into view. It fits the eerie atmosphere perfectly – chipping paint, broken windows. You’re not here to admire the neglected building, though, and you stomp up the small steps. The door lets out a low groan as you practically shove it open using your shoulder.

Slamming it behind you, your head whips around for the exit or some type of weapon. In the distance, you can hear the shrill whistle of the man outside, an involuntary thing, you’ve noticed. Just how long have you been fighting this freak? Enough to learn his quirks, that’s for sure. 

Delving deeper into the house with hurried steps, you look around for a kitchen. Find a weapon, find a weapon, you repeat to yourself, the sound of your quick gasps filling your ears. You catch yourself on the doorway when you almost rush past it.  

You barely stepped foot into the room before crying out when you felt something make impact with your back. The dull, heavy pressure sends painful shockwaves through you. Having the wind knocked out of you, the muscles in your back spasm and you buckle forward. He shoves you, and you wheeze as the edge of the rusted stove in front of you digs painfully into your stomach.

Your eyes immediately land on a cast iron skillet, and you think you have less than three seconds. You smash the pan against the side of his head, your grunt and the metal clang the only sounds in the room. You were confused as to why he wasn’t yelling out in pain. But your arms jerked upward, the heavy iron bludgeoning into his chin and he stumbles back.

Toby can hear the ringing in his ears with each blow to his head, his world spinning for far too long than he would’ve liked. He snarls and grabs your arm, throwing you in the direction of a wall hard - causing you to drop your makeshift weapon.

He looks at you, at how your legs shake as you try to steady the world around you. Look at you - you looked like a fawn. With your wide eyes and trembling form. Guess he’ll be your coyote, right? He’d sink his teeth into the side of your neck and stain his maw with your crimson flood. You were just pretty enough that he couldn’t wait to watch your eyes roll back when he greedily kept the air from inflating your lungs.

No, but you weren’t a fawn, were you? He’d seen more fight in you than any of the losers he was tasked to kill. They sobbed – they fucking begged on their hands and knees – to keep him from tearing them limb by limb. You were stronger than he thought you’d be, but you weren’t as agile as he was, he thought.

His face stretched as another wide, sinister grin spread across his face. His gloved hand tightened around the hatchet’s handle. He could hear the leather creak if he focused on anything other than your breathing.

You duck and stumble out of the way as you hear the spitting of wood above your head. He yells out a loud “fuck!” and attempts to yank the weapon free. You run out of the room and almost collide with another wall. You pivot on your heel because there was no way you’d run away from the front--

Gasping, you caught your balance before you could fall through the gaping hole on the floor. No time to jump, you told yourself, and you spun once again. Sprinting down the hall, you were met with the door to a room rather than any kind of exit.

You’d remember to set this house on fire when you made it out alive.

The room stunk of decaying carcasses and a thick powdery smell – the former outperforming the latter. You make your way to a second door and find yourself in a bathroom. You think there’s nothing here heavy enough to hurt him until your eyes land on a towel rod that hung loosely from the wall.

With a determined tug it comes out and you know he heard it. You can tell by the way you hear his heavy boots scramble in the direction of the room. You take a deep gulp of air and press your back against the wall next to the door.

The air was heavy with tension as the door creaked open. His shadowy figure stretched on the floor, and he walked right in. Would he turn around? Would he sense where you were before it was too late?

While he twisted around, you slam the rod into the side of his head. He’s disoriented for a moment, his head rolling to the side. Before he could react, you lifted your right leg, and the bottom of your shoe made contact with his stomach – sending him hurtling back.

Toby lets out a groan as he loses his balance and falls into a tub. His limbs sprawl out, legs and arms dangling from the sides. He attempts to move when a raw, guttural scream that causes his chest to tighten makes him stop. His eyes dilate as he stares at you wildly. Something about your scream has shaken him to his core. His head was still dizzy and a little numb from the force of your hit. And yet he couldn’t help but admire your resilience. He should be livid – breaking all your fingers and pulling your pretty little teeth out of your mouth one by one.

The man’s tics overtook him, his eyelids squeezed shut with a sudden intensity. He opens them again, and you’re still rooted in the same spot – breathing heavily. He’d never seen a girl look as hot as you did right now. He didn’t think that was even possible in your state. Your clothes, hair, and face were caked in mud and blood from your gashes. A girl like you should’ve been screaming in pain and crying for her mommy. But you stared at him with a burning defiance that caused his heart to pound violently against his chest.

His hatchet lay at your feet, and he realized that you had gotten him. You won. He could try attacking you again – he was bigger than you – but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He can’t fight back anymore; he just stares in what he can only assume is awe. Years of taking lives and witnessing more gore than anyone ever should, could not have prepared him for this moment. You didn’t stop – you just couldn’t. It was… admirable. Beautiful, even, if he was a more sentimental person.

You piqued his curiosity like nobody had ever done before. He wanted to know what made you tick. He wanted to study every movement, sound, and judgement you’d ever make. You could break all the bones in his body, and he’d come running back to watch you do it again when the Operator put him together again.

You astonished him.

So, what’ll you do now?

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

How about an Emily Prentiss x reader smut where she uses a strap on the reader for the first time

Hey, anon! So sorry it's taking me like a million years to get through these requests. But, as always, please keep them coming! – illdowhatiwantthanks

Control

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: NSFW (18+ MDNI), smut, literally just unfettered smut, strap-on, mentions of AFAB genitalia, explicit language (let me know if I've missed anything!) Word count: 1.4k

Summary: It's your first time being strapped, and you're nervous as hell. Thankfully, Emily knows what she's doing. 😉

NOTE: This can be read as older Emily or younger Emily, whatever your preference. I just haven't had a chance to use a GIF of absolutely fucking FINE gray-haired Emily yet, so....

You eyed the strap suspiciously from your perch on the bed as Emily harnessed herself up. You exhaled shakily and thought to yourself, There’s no way that’s gonna fit inside me.

Emily gave you a small smile when she looked in your direction. “You alright?” she asked, her voice confident yet concerned.

You nodded, but your voice shook. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

Emily chuckled, crawling toward you on the bed and placing her hand on the side of your face before kissing you. You were breathless by the time she let you go, with a quick peck on the tip of your nose.

“You’re a bad liar,” she said, smirking and sitting back. “If you don’t want to do this, we don’t have to.”

You picked at your fingernails and avoided her eyes.

Emily nudged you with her shoulder. “I think you’ll like it though. But say the word and we’ll do something else. It’s not a big deal, okay?”

You furrowed your eyebrows, staring hard at the strap. “I mean, women enjoy this, right? Hypothetically?”

Emily shrugged. “I think it depends on the woman.”

“Have you done it before? R-received?” you asked, blushing a little.

“Yeah,” Emily told you, taking your hand in hers and running her finger along the lines of your palm. “With men, though. Never with a woman.”

“Why not?” you thought out loud.

Emily bit her lip. “When I started sleeping with women, I just… found a different role, sexually. One I liked better.”

“But did you like it when you did? Before?” You were far enough in now you might as well keep asking.

“I don’t know that my experiences with men are what you want to be comparing this to. At least, I certainly hope not.”

“But you think I’ll like it?” you asked, incredulous.

“Honey,” she said, grasping your chin to look you in the eyes. “We really don’t have to do this if you’re not ready.”

“No, no! I… I want to, I’m just… nervous,” you admitted.

“Look at me, baby,” she said, maneuvering your body gently down on the bed, running her thumbs gently over your cheekbones. “I might be the one with the strap, but you’re the one in control. Alright? You say the word, I’ll stop. I promise. We’ll go slow, okay? Slow and gentle.”

You nodded and let Emily kiss you again, harder, more frantic than before. You moaned into her as she caressed your body, as she placed open-mouthed kisses down your neck and across your collarbone.

You buried your hands in her hair, back arched, as she slowly swirled her tongue around your nipples, excruciatingly slow, until they were hardened into swollen peaks. You felt the cool line of her tongue draw a line from your rib cage down to your lower stomach, and you writhed as Emily placed ghostly, light kisses on your inner thighs and around your clit.

You could feel yourself glistening, feel the wetness between your legs. You were ready for more.

“Em, please,” you protested when she sat up. You opened your eyes to find Emily sitting back and applying lube to the strap, pupils absolutely blown, staring at you with equal parts love and hunger.

She wiped her hands off on the towel draped over the nightstand, then leaned forward, brushing your hair out of your face. “Are you ready?”

You nodded, gripping the bed sheets in both anxiety and anticipation.

Emily stared pointedly at you. “You’re sure?” You nodded again and she prompted. “Words, please.”

“Yes, Em,” you whispered breathlessly. “I’m ready for you.”

She blinked and shook her head, as if your words were a little too much for her.

“Tell me if I need to stop,” she said, maneuvering the strap so that it rubbed against your entrance.

You let out a strangled moan, somewhere between a scared yelp and a groan of pleasure, as Emily pressed into you, slowly filling you up.

You almost had a hard time catching your breath, as if all your body’s attention was now solely focused on this overwhelming, foreign thing inside of it. It wasn’t necessarily bad, just new, but your body did not seem to know what to do with it, and you could feel your insides pulsing with both pleasure and pain, trying to adjust to the new sensation.

When Emily had pressed most of the strap inside of you, she leaned down to caress your face, planting kisses on your forehead. “Good girl, honey. You’re doing so good for me. Are you okay?”

You nodded, face beet red from the pain and from holding your breath.

“Breathe for me, baby, alright?” Emily asked, slowly starting to rock her hips, moving the strap in and out. “Look at me, look at my face. Breathe. Like this.”

You followed the pattern of Emily’s breath to catch yours, and when you’d finally regulated your breathing, everything else seemed to fall into place too. You weren’t exactly in pain anymore as much as you were… full. But… in a good way? In a way that felt oddly wonderful? Maybe it was the physical sensation of the strap and maybe it was the knowledge that a part of Emily was inside of you that shot arousal straight from your head to your toes.

You whined a bit and moved your hips to meet Emily’s as a wave of pleasure rolled through you, intensified by whatever mysterious spot inside of you Emily had found and was now hitting relentlessly.

“Fuck, baby,” Emily breathed, and you could tell from her voice, from the flush of her chest, by the way her breath was frantic and caught every few minutes, that she was wildly turned on. And it was at that moment–staring up at Emily, seeing the sweat the beaded her forehead, the scrunch of her eyebrows in deep concentration, her hips against you in that way, particular to Emily, that always let you know she was trying hard and largely failing not to chase her orgasm–that you realized Emily was right.

It was you who had the power here. You who could make Emily fall apart, could drive her crazy. And you felt drunk all at once on power and pleasure–particularly the pleasure of seeing Emily losing her fucking mind on top of you.

With one hand, you pulled at her hips, encouraging her to go deeper, faster, harder. With the other, you cupped the back of her neck and drew her close to you, moaning in her ear.

“Holy shit,” she whispered, breath catching in her throat.

“Come on, Em,” you whispered. “You’re so close. Come on, baby, I want you to come inside me.”

The thrusting of her hips became sloppier and sloppier as she chased her high, her face pressed into your neck so that you could hear her huffs of breath, could smell her sweat as she worked for it.

Her noises became high and desperate and you felt your own orgasm close behind, knew it would come just from watching Emily fall apart, just from feeling her lose herself inside of you.

Emily’s breath hitched in her throat and you knew she was there. You pressed your own hips into hers, grinding into her, shoving the strap deeper as she jerked against you, until your own vision blurred and you wrapped yourself around Emily, riding out your high.

With a final shaky thrust into you, Emily collapsed against you, sweaty and spent. You grinned a her as she caught her breath, rolling to lay on your chest.

“Fuck,” she gasped, trying to get enough air. “You’re sure you haven’t done that before?”

You kissed her forehead and swiped a strand of hair off her sweaty forehead. “I only take strap for you, honey.”

Emily shuddered, then carefully slid out of you. “You,” she said, burying her tongue in your mouth as she removed the harness and threw it to the side of the room. “Are perfect.”

You kissed her back, surprised at how quickly arousal flooded back into your body.

“Hey,” you said, breathless, pulling your sticky bodies apart to look at her.

“What?”

“Next time,” you told her. “I want to ride you.”

Her eyes grew wide, and she nearly fell out of bed feeling for the harness again.

“How soon is next time?” she asked, glancing at you before strapping up.

“How soon can you get that on?” you grinned, sitting back to admire her.