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fairy-angel222 · 3 months

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𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

—“i just wanna be one of your girls tonight,”

pairing: geto suguru x fem! reader

synopsis: you’ve had a crush on your brother’s best friend for a long time, and just wanted to have his attention at least once

content: smut, weed consumption, blowing smoke into your mouth, choking, fingering, mirror sex, praise

You would do anything for the attention of Geto Suguru. There was just something about him that you needed. Yes he was your brother’s best friend. And yes he was three years older than you. But that really meant nothing.

Your teeth bit down painfully on your bottom lip as you watched Geto flirt with an older girl. His signature smirk on his face as he leaned onto her locker, hands in his pocket with his lips moving in the sweetest words.

You wish it could’ve been you. The way she got shy, her face flushed red as she tucked a strand of red hair behind her ear with a perfectly manicured nail.

All you could do was watch with longing as his arm wrapped around her waist, her head on his side before they began walking the halls together. His smirk never faltered as he nodded along to her words.

Lucky. You thought to yourself, a tight lipped smile painted on your face.

You finished packing away your books, slamming the metal blue door shut before making your way to class. You’d always be his best friend’s little sister.

“Fuck- sorry..” you trailed off as you looked up to find his eyes staring back down at you. A smile on his face and his eyebrow raised as broad hands held onto your waist to steady your frame. “Language sweetheart. And careful now, wouldn’t want Gojo to kill me, would we?” he teased.

Your mouth opening and closing with no words escaping. “U-uh y-eah, well n-no, i mean no.” So fucking embarrassing.

Geto only chuckled, shaking his head in amusement then walking off with a grin. “Bye little Gojo.”

There he goes with that stupid nickname again.

…

The day goes by with nothing on your mind. Well, except Geto of course. He would be coming over to your house later to hang out with your brother. And as always, they would have girls over.. and you weren’t invited as Gojo put it.

Leaving your classroom, you passed by your locker to collect your things. Swinging your bag over your shoulder and making your way to the school’s doors. “Hey y/n,” a deep voice called. Turning around to see Geto jogging up to you with a girl’s arm hooked around his. A brunette this time.. great.

“Yeah?”

“Gojo asked for me to take you home, so you’re stuck with me.” He stated, winking jokingly before draping his arm over your shoulder as he walked you and his girl of the day to his vehicle.

If only he knew what that mere gesture did to you.

You took a seat in the back of his vehicle. Awkwardly watching as his hand squeezed the thigh of the girl in the passenger’s seat, massaging her skin until she was looking at the side of his face with nothing but want.

You blinked your attention away from them, resting your head back and looking out the car window instead. The ride to your house was silent apart from the girl’s constant giggling. And you kept your focus on anything but them, missing the way Geto glanced back through the rear view mirror. His head tilted and a small smile on his face.

She’s jealous, cute.

…

“We’re here,” Geto announced.

Walking into the house and greeting your brother in a hug before flopping down on the couch with his girl on his lap.

Gojo had his own blonde sat next to him, her legs on his lap as she played with his hair. “Hello little sister, not even gonna greet your favorite big brother hello?”

You gave a short wave before going up to your room, locking the door shut before flopping onto your bed. You wanted him.. so bad.

Maybe if you were just two years older.. granted, 18 and 21 wasn’t even that bad.. but maybe he would watch you then.

You sighed, closing your eyes as you heard loud music fill the house, the group most likely beginning their drinking and make out session by now.

Grabbing your phone, you plugged in your earphones. One of The Girls by the weeknd blasting through your ears as you let your mind wander. Geto, his hands, on your body.

You let out a soft whimper as you allowed your hand to roam to your chest, squeezing your tits and rolling your nipples between your soft fingertips.

“Mmm..” you moaned, imagining his hand instead of yours as you trailed it lower, slowly pulling down your pants and letting it slip inside the white lace of your panties. “Fuck.. Suguru,” your fingers rubbed along the line of your slit, teasing your clit before you finally allowed them to dip into your wetness.

“A-ah, so good,” you threw your head back into your pillow, thrusting your fingers in and out of your dripping heat with desperation. Trying your hardest to curl them to reach that good spot. Almost there.

“Fuck.” you yelled out in frustration, they were not enough. You needed his. His long, veiny fingers.. you needed them in you, around your neck, squeezing at your flesh. Anything.

Sighing loudly, you stood up. Walking over to the door of you and your brother’s shared master bathroom. You would usually knock. But he and his friends were clearly getting drunk— and high, downstairs. So there was no need.

Pushing the door open, your eyes widened at the sight of Geto leaned over your counter. A blunt between his lips as red eyes stared at you through the mirror, his face drenched with water.

“A-am sorry, I thought it was e-empty.” you rushed out, your thighs clenching as you watched his muscles flex as he gripped the counter’s edge even harder.

“Wait,” he called out, stopping you mid track from closing your side of the door. “Come here.”

You gulped hard, shakily walking over to him. “Y-yeah?” Geto smirked, “you know, it’s cute how flustered you get around me.”

You could feel your cheeks heat up, your brain scrambling to find something to say. Geto only chuckled, “wanna try?” holding the blunt out in your direction. “I.. I don't think Gojo would like that.”

He shrugged, “I won’t tell.” Before stalking over to you and backing you up against the counter. You yelped as his arms hooked under your thighs, swiftly lifting you onto the counter top before situating himself between your legs.

Geto’s fingers hooked onto your chin, your eyes meeting his as he lifted your head towards him. “Open.” You did as told, parting your lips and watching as he took a hit, blowing the smoke into your open mouth before capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.

Your stomach burned with heat, your pussy drenched as his lips found your neck. You let out a soft moan, your hands wrapping around his neck while your fingers tugged at the back of his hair. “What about your girlfriend downstairs?” you spoke between moans.

“Not my girlfriend.” he reassured “And tonight’s all about you.”

You were in heaven, it was even better than you imagined.

Setting the rolled paper down, Geto helped you remove your shirt, pinching your nipples and twisting them softly just to hear you moan. “You sound so pretty.”

Geto hurriedly peeled off his shirt, his abs on display making you bite your tongue. “Touch them.”

“W-what?”

“Go ahead, touch them.” Grabbing your hands and placing them on the hard muscles.

You could only whimper when Geto pulled your pants off of you, his eyes going dark at the sight of the white lace covering your pussy.

He looked down at you with a look of confirmation, you looking up at him through long lashes as you nodded. “Please.”

That was all he needed, ripping the flimsy material off of you and admiring your glistening cunt. His fingers found your wetness, rubbing up and down before sinking them into you. A loud moan escaping your lips making his eyes widen.

“Shhh, don’t wanna get caught do you.”

Geto’s free hand made its way up to your mouth, muffling your mewls as he curled his fingers up into you. Perfect. They were hitting inside you so good, and you allowed yourself to moan his name over and over into his palm. His eyes never leaving yours as he fingered you dumb.

Your eyes rolled back and your mouth hung open, drool coating his hand as you rocked back and forth on the marble top. It was happening, it was actually happening.

“Is this what you wanted baby? This what you been waiting for?”

You nodded, your eyes teary as the pads of his fingers pressed into your g spot with every thrust. Your legs hooked tightly around his waist, your toes curling as you began to tremble.

“Cum for me,” he whispered in your ear, hot tongue making you moan out as he nibbled on your lobe. You could only let out a soft cry as you clenched down on his fingers, rocking your hips onto his hand and fucking yourself through your high.

Geto watched in pure lust as you came, your glassy eyes looking up at him before shutting in pleasure, your head falling back as you met your release. You looked like a fucking angel in his eyes. And he wanted nothing more than to be the demon to corrupt you.

“Good girl.” he smirked.

You smiled, your eyes trailing to the blunt once more, making Geto’s smirk grow impossibly wider. Picking it up and bringing it to your plump lips. “Inhale... there we go. Now let it sit.. and exhale.” he coaxed, “You like that?”

Your head felt so dizzy, intoxicated even. And you nodded, watching as Geto took his own hit before blowing it out onto your face.

His fingers were dripping with your slick, and he brought them up to his mouth with a smug smile. Using his tongue to lick up your sweetness before connecting his lips to yours again. The kiss was hard, sloppy, and you moaned loudly into him.

Pulling away, Geto flipped you over. Using his knee to spread your legs apart and push your chest down onto the cold marble. You let out a needy whine, meeting his eyes in the mirror as his hand wrapped around your neck. The other lining his cock up with your hole. He let out a choked groan as he eased into you. A loud moan being drawn past your lips.

“S-so tight, fuck.” Geto’s lips parted in a loud groan, using his now free hand to pin both your smaller hands behind your back. “Beg me.. beg me to ruin you.”

You let out a broken cry. “P-please Geto.. please fuck me, ruin me, anything. ‘M all yours.”

You let out a string of high pitched noises when he began slamming his hips into yours. His tip piercing deep into you with every thrust.

“F-fuck, y-you’re.. s-so,” you let out a broken mewl, “so d-deep.” Geto tightened his hold on your neck, lifting your head slightly to force your eyes to stay on his. A deep growl sounding in his throat when you closed them.

“Look at me when i fuck you.” he demanded, your eyes shooting open and meeting his immediately.

Your mouth hung open in a small o. Soundless cries filling the room as you watched your body jerk forward with each movement of his hips.

You were so tight around him. Even tighter than he had imagined. And he couldn’t help the moans leaving his own mouth as he destroyed your pussy.

“Does that feel good? Does my cock feel good inside you baby?”

You nodded with a whimper, your breathing heavy as you were forced to watch yourself be fucked dumb.

“Words sweetheart.”

“Y-yes, it feels s-so good Suguru.”

“That’s my girl.”

You could feel your legs going weak, your knees trembling as you were fucked into the counter. “Nngh- Sugu,” you moaned, a smirk on his face as he thought back to mere minutes ago when you were moaning his name from your bed. Now you didn’t have to imagine, he was right there.

“‘M so close,” you mewled.

“Yeah? Gonna make a mess for me? Show me how much you wanted this?”

His back hunched as he flattened his chest against you, the position allowing him to hit deeper than you thought was possible.

“F-fuck,” you cried out, your eyes widening with tears as you felt his dick fucking you so deep, so good. The pleasure was too intense. The coil in your stomach painfully ready to snap.

“Look at how good you look when you fall apart on my cock. Come on baby— cum for me again.” He encouraged as he rolled his hips up into you, forgetting about being quiet as he relished in your loud moans and cries. You sounded so pretty for him. And for him only.

A loud scream fell past your lips when his dick hammered against your g spot. Your legs shaking uncontrollably as you began to gush around him. Eyes rolling back as you basked in the pleasure from your high.. the highest you’d ever been.

“That’s a good fucking girl,” he dragged out, breathing getting heavy and his thrusts sloppy as he gave your pussy its final thrusts.

“Wish i could fill you up more than anything. Fuck, wanna make you mine. Wanted to for so long.” he moaned, voice cracking slightly as his abs tensed.

Geto groaned, pulling out of you before spilling his cum onto your ass, his head thrown back as he let rope after rope fall onto your plush flesh.

Strong hands held you up before you collapsed, holding you tight against him as he breathed heavily into your back. Your chest heaving in an attempt to steady your own breathing.

Your heart clenched as your eyes trailed over the scene in the mirror. You, Suguru.. together, sweat coating both of your skins.

Geto’s voice was soft as he mumbled, “Want you so bad.. need you to be mine. I can’t wait anymore.”

Your heart rate sped up as you felt your tears at the brink of falling. This wasn’t a dream. “I— I..” you were at a loss of words.. he wanted you too.

“It’s okay, I know. You don’t quite make it discreet.” he joked, pulling you into a tight hug and placing a kiss onto your head.

Geto cursed, letting out a long sigh and picking up the still lit blunt. Taking a puff before releasing it above your head. “What the fuck am i supposed to say if Gojo finds out.”

Oh yeah.. your brother. He would most definitely not approve.

Just then, a knock sounded on the door. A very drunk Gojo slurring, “Yo Suguru? You in there? I need to piss.”

Geto only shook his head with a silent laugh. While you, you couldn’t be bothered. You had him. You actually had him. Suguru was yours. And you weren’t just one of his girls. You were his girl.

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angelfic · 9 months

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— THE WAY I LOVED YOU

pairing: theodore nott x reader

summary: in which theodore nott will do anything to get you to go out with him, but you’re just as stubborn rejecting him

warnings: swearing, kissing, dangerous stunts and theo being stupid (ryan gosling in the notebook style), unedited since i wrote this in the middle of the night on no sleep again lol. enemies to lovers if you squint a bit

author’s note: since everyone loves theo i’ll pretend this isn’t just for my own selfish needs <3 (especially the notebook reference) also surprise surprise mc is a gryffindor as always, you’d never know i was a slytherin my bad guys… as always let me know what u think! enjoy, angels 💌

The first time Theodore Nott asks you out, you spill a pot of ink directly into his lap.

It’s not like you meant to do it. But when there’s a Transfiguration worksheet to be getting on with, the Slytherin boy seated next to you by Professor McGonagall asking you out would surely take anyone by surprise.

The second you twist in your seat to look at him in shock, your arm slides the pot right off the desk and directly onto his grey trousers, instantly staining them with the black liquid before you have a chance to speak.

Your hands fly to your mouth to stifle your gasp and you look up at him, anticipating an angry glare in return. Instead, he looks mildly surprised at the ever-growing stain on his crotch, but mostly… amused?

“A simple ‘no’ would have sufficed, darling,” he says, raising an eyebrow and suppressing a smile.

You begin stuttering out an apology and scrambling for your wand to wave away the stain before you can do something stupid like attempting to rub it off with your sleeve. Your cheeks instantly heat up at the humiliating image now plaguing your mind and you barely contain a sigh of relief when you realise the lesson has finished.

It’s a miracle your shoes haven’t left scuff marks on the ground in a cartoonish trail with the speed at which you leave the classroom. Godric knows why Theo Nott of all people wants to ask you out, but since it can’t possibly be for any good reason, you’d rather not think about it too much. This, however, isn’t helped by Hermione pestering you about why you look so flustered for the entire walk to the Charms classroom.

Twenty minutes later, her attention is finally diverted. On the other hand, it’s because she’s berating you for accidentally burning the end of her left eyebrow off with a charm gone wrong.

The second time Theo asks you out, there are thankfully no ink pots around.

“Hey,” he whispers from behind you, making you jump within an inch of your life despite his low volume. You swivel in your chair to glare at him, incredulous. Seeing that he’s startled you, Theo grins. “Sorry. What are you doing?”

“Baking a cake,” you deadpan, once your heart has started beating at a normal pace again. Holding up your Potions book, you feel the annoyance start to seep in when Theo continues looking at you, undeterred. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

Apparently unfazed by your sarcasm, he drags out the chair next to you and spins it around to sit on it backwards. Settling his arms on top of the backrest, Theo rests his chin on them to look at you. “You never did answer my question.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mumble, eyes scanning the page in front of you but taking in nothing. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to study-”

“Are you going to make me ask you again?” he sighs. You panic a little at his bluntness and continue pretending to read, not knowing what else to do. Theo takes your silence as encouragement and shuffles his chair closer to your own. “Go out with me.”

The arrogance practically drips off his voice, and the pit of anxiety in your stomach immediately turns into irritation instead. “No,” you grit out, slamming your potions book shut to scowl at him. “And I don’t hear you asking anything.”

“Okay,” Theo says slowly, nodding as though he understands. It’s clear that he doesn’t though, because the next words out of his mouth have you stunned. “Please, oh please, will you do me the absolute greatest honour of going out with me?”

”Merlin,” you exhale, pinching the bridge of your nose. Dropping your hands into your lap, you see no solution other than gathering your things to return to the common room. “You’re having me on…”

“I can assure you, I’m not,” Theo says quickly, stopping you from leaving by gently grabbing your elbow. You stop in your movements to catch him looking more unsure than you’ve ever seen, and you’ve never been more perplexed. “I’m completely serious right now. Go out with me?”

“Wh- I don’t even-” you sigh, cutting your senseless muttering off to cross your arms over your textbook. “Whatever happened to a simple ‘no’ sufficing, darling? Aren’t there a million other girls for you to go and pester? Godric knows you’ve got an entourage following you half the- What are you looking at?”

Amazingly, Theo’s expression has lost all trace of vulnerability and now displays a slightly faraway look, his signature lazy grin in full effect. “Sorry, I didn’t hear a word after you called me ‘darling’.”

Resisting the urge to hit him over the head with your textbook, you take a deep breath and grasp the potential weapon tighter in your hands before speaking. “As hard as it is for me to believe that girls actually fall for this rubbish, your history with them shows that they do. Don’t think for a second, I’m going to let you use me like they do.”

Theo considers your words for a few seconds, mulling them over as carefully as though he’s trying to solve a brain teaser. Eventually, he seems to come to a satisfying conclusion, because he tucks his hands into the pockets of his trousers and tilts his head. “So you need me to prove I’m serious about this… and then you’ll say yes?”

“Oh, for the love of-” Huffing, you turn on your heal without saying another word and storm out of the library. Theo doesn’t follow you, allowing you to clear your head and think about the incredibly odd interaction.

You’re climbing through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room when you realise you never actually refuted Theo and his theory to make you go out with him. Whether or not it was on purpose, you can’t quite decide.

Over the next few weeks, you start wishing you had stopped Theo before he could start trying to prove himself to you.

You can’t go a single day without the question of going out with him popping up. Much to your bewilderment, it isn’t always him asking. Sometimes it’s his friends, sometimes it’s students at the Gryffindor table who are sick of the multiple owls every morning flocking to your table with a note in their beaks. Sometimes it’s even your friends.

“I mean, really,” Hermione says at breakfast, huffy as always when reprimanding someone. “It’d be benefiting everyone if you just went out with him. Why don’t you, anyway?”

“He’s a Slytherin,” Ron butts in, talking to Hermione as though he’s explaining something to a child. He takes a gigantic bite of his toast before speaking, his next words coming out muffled. “Surely that’s reason enough.”

“No, that isn’t reason enough,” Hermione says sternly, furrowing her brows. “A good reason would have been all the girls he’s always with. Of course, that’s flown out the window recently. He’s also never given them as much attention now that I think about it.”

“He’s definitely not the worst of the group either,” Harry adds, leaning in as nosily as Ron. “Not like we’re talking about Malfoy…”

“Don’t you two have Quidditch tactics to be discussing?” you snap, exhausted by the subject already. The two boys hold up their hands in surrender, before shuffling down the bench. Whether that’s to be closer to the Quidditch team, or to get away from you before you start throwing hexes - you aren’t certain.

The fact you’re awake early in the morning on a Saturday isn’t helping your sour mood, and the Quidditch match being between Gryffindor and Slytherin only adds to this.

“We’d better go and get a good seat at the front, so we aren’t on our tiptoes for the whole game like last time,” Hermione says, already sliding off the bench. You give your cup of coffee one last longing look before you allow yourself to be dragged away.

You haven’t even made it onto the Quidditch pitch before you’re already wishing for that cup of coffee to give you strength, because you find none other than Theo standing outside the Great Hall in his green and silver Quidditch robes.

As soon as he spots you, Theo plasters on that charming smile of his and opens his mouth, no doubt to ask you if you could talk privately.

Hermione interjects before he gets the chance. “Don’t bother, I’m leaving.” She simply sighs when you look at her, betrayed. “He’d have convinced you anyway! I’ll save you a seat.”

You watch her leave, helplessly before turning to Theo and crossing your arms. “Yes?”

“I have a proposition for you,” he says simply, getting to the point. The proposition has, without a doubt, got something to do with you and him and a trip to Hogsmeade, but you gesture for him to continue nonetheless. You can’t deny it’s been entertaining watching Theo come up with new ways to ask you out these past few weeks. “I’ll throw the match and let your lot win if you go out with me.”

This startles a laugh out of you, something between a chortle and a gasp. “Oh, you cheeky bastard,” you exclaim, but you can’t help grinning. That was quite possibly the last thing you expected him to say. “First of all, I think my lot is perfectly capable of winning on their own. And secondly… as funny as it would be, I’d rather not have your death and Malfoy’s subsequent imprisonment in Azkaban be on my conscience.”

You only realise just how wide your smile is when it starts to fade under Theo’s unwavering gaze. His lips twitch up into a smile and you immediately frown as an automatic response. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re bantering with me,” Theo says, grinning as though he’s extremely pleased with himself. You realise with a jolt, that yes you were bantering. “One step closer to agreeing to go out with me.”

“That’s not happening,” you protest, but it sounds fairly weak, even to you. “Like I keep telling you, I’m not going to be one of those girls.”

Theo shrugs. “And I think you already know you’re not one of those girls. It’s fine, I can wait.”

The relaxed manner in which he says this has you flabbergasted to say the least. Truthfully, you aren’t completely sure why you haven’t just agreed at this point. No one in the whole school is used to witnessing such extravagant displays from Theodore Nott, so you’ve accepted the fact you’re an outlier in this particular subject area. You’re starting to think Hermione’s right, and it’s pure stubbornness that’s keeping you going.

“You’ll be waiting a long time then,” you say, giving Theo a bland smile.

“Nah,” is all he says, the smile still gracing his unperturbed face. “Keep an eye out for me in the Quidditch stands.”

Theo winks at you before walking away in the direction of the pitch and you linger in the castle for a good few minutes before snapping out of it and walking in the same direction.

You find Hermione quickly at the front of the Gryffindor stand and you’re about to ask how long until the game starts when Lee Jordan’s voice begins to boom from the commentator stand.

“Strong start for Gryffindor with Katie Bell taking the Quaffle and- nope, Vaisey’s taken it and passed it onto Urquhart, his fellow Chaser and the new Slytherin captain.” You’re thankful for Lee’s commentary as it’s easy to follow and you probably wouldn’t have a clue if it weren’t for him. Surprisingly, he keeps it professional enough for a while. “Ginny Weasley tries to take the Quaffle after a near hit there to Urquhart, thanks to new Gryffindor Beater Jimmy Peakes and that very solid Bludger over there. Unfortunately, he missed-”

“JORDAN.”

“Sorry, Professor McGonagall, I meant fortunately. Slytherin Chaser Mattheo Riddle now has the Quaffle and seems to be aiming to score and- oops! He’s missed, thanks to Gryffindor Keeper Ron Weasley. Good on you, Weasley,” Lee says, unable to be impartial as shown by McGonagall’s glare. “As for the Slytherin Keeper, Nott seems to be distracted by something in the Gryffindor stands. Or should I say someone.”

Laughter echoes in every stand, much to your utter humiliation and some people even start whooping and cheering in your direction. Theo’s antics are common knowledge at this point, but it doesn’t make the laughter any less embarrassing. You try and maintain a shred of dignity by standing still and glaring as hard as you can at Theo. Horrifyingly, he starts to fly in your direction.

Lee looks at McGonagall before speaking, but she merely shrugs helplessly, looking flustered herself. “Er, well it seems Slytherin are open for Gryffindor to score. No one seems to be taking advantage, however, as I think I can speak for everyone when I say we want to know what’s going on with Nott and Y/N.”

Glancing at the others, you realise Lee is right and all the players are hovering in place, making no move to continue the game. They look partly confused, but mostly nosy.

Theo stops just outside the Gryffindor stand, his attention focused wholly on you. You raise both eyebrows in question, waiting for him to speak. “Go out with me.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t quite hear what Nott is saying, but I think we can all guess he’s asking her out again,” Lee says, causing a few more cheers and even a couple groans. “Take the hint, mate.”

“Theo, get back to the game!” you hiss, wrapping your arms around you as if it’ll shield you from everyone’s eyes. “You’re embarrassing m- What the fuck are you doing!”

Theo swings a leg over the side of his broomstick so that he’s sitting completely facing you, legs dangling dangerously off one side. Lee sits up a little in his booth and McGonagall looks positively horrified. “For unknown reasons, Nott is balancing precariously in a position no Quidditch player wants to- Merlin, he’s hanging off his broomstick!”

Everyone in the crowd screams and shouts when Theo slips off his broomstick, but they quieten down and watch with fright when they see he’s still holding on with both hands. You think you’re going to faint.

“Theo,” you plead, with the same voice you’d use to coax a bloody kitten out of a tree. “Get back on your broomstick. Please.”

“Only if you go out with me,” Theo says, eyes determined despite breathing a little heavier. The broomstick is thin and despite his strength, it’d be hard for anyone to maintain a grip for long. “Say you’ll go out with me and I’ll get back on.”

“Just say it!” Hermione grabs you by the shoulder to shake you.

Professor McGonagall seems to have shaken out of her previous daze and begins scrambling around for her wand while Lee narrows his eyes to better assess the situation. “Godric, Y/N. Just say ‘yes’ and end everyone’s misery already.”

“But…” you trail off, hands shaking as you keep your eyes on Theo’s white knuckles still gripping the broom. “I don’t want to encourage this stupid behaviour.”

Theo rolls his eyes as though he can’t believe you’re still objecting. He shakes his head at you, though his chest is shaking with laughter. “Go out with me, and I swear I’ll never do anything stupid again. Fucking hell, I’ll quit Quidditch altogether if you want.”

You open your mouth to say something, you’re not sure what, but before you can get a word out, Seamus Finnigan pipes up from beside you. “Personally, I say let him fall off the bloody thing.”

Tutting, you turn to Theo just to find the idiot raising an eyebrow challengingly. His left hand begins to loosen on the broomstick, deliberately.

“Theo, don’t you dare.”

He drops his left hand completely and you scream, the noise drowned out by everyone else’s yells.

“OKAY!” you yelp, heart in throat as you watch Theo dangling from his broomstick with one hand, clearly struggling. “Okay, I’ll go out with you, you stubborn idiot!”

The Gryffindors that hear you, begin to cheer, setting off the other houses and once McGonagall sees Theo begin to pull himself up on his broomstick, she visibly relaxes, slumping in her seat as she clutches her chest. Lee soon gets the message. “Finally, after a good month of watching Nott pine pathetically, Y/N has agreed to go out with the poor bast- Er, beggar. Sorry, Professor. By the way Nott, you’ve got detention for a week.”

Now sitting normally on his broomstick, Theo grins at you like the cheeky bastard that he is, with elation clear as day on his face. You struggle to fight off your own grin and you can tell by his expression you’re not doing a very good job at it. “Pull something like that again and I’ll push you off your broomstick myself,” you warn him, though it lacks any real threat. You were more worried than angry, and it definitely shows. “Okay?”

“No more stupid behaviour,” Theo promises, sounding sincere as he nods, messy hair falling into his eyes. The wind blows it out of the way almost immediately and you find yourself wanting to do it with your fingers. “After this, though.”

You furrow your brows as Theo flies close enough to the Gryffindor stand to get off his broomstick and hop right into the crowd, landing next to you. Broomstick in hand, Theo doesn’t take his eyes off you when he holds it out to Hermione. “If you don’t mind, Granger.”

Clearly baffled, Hermione gingerly takes the broomstick from him and watches the two of you, as enraptured as the rest of the school.

You face Theo properly, looking up at his eyes to see them glittering with pride and achievement. You tilt your head in question, wondering why he hasn’t yet returned to the game.

Theo answers you by gripping your waist to pull you into a stupidly dramatic, dizzying, wonderful kiss. His lips are soft against your own and cold from the wind, but the shiver that runs down your spine has nothing to do with the temperature and everything to do with the way Theo is pressed against you.

You could go on forever, but the cheers and claps and hollering around you remind you that you’re surrounded by all your peers and, Godric, your teachers.

Pulling away, you clear your throat and attempt to gain back some of your dignity by keeping a serious face. Theo attempts nothing of the sort as he’s still wearing a silly grin. You try and avoid his eyes for the sake of your nerves and you mutter the first thing that comes to mind. “Erm, good luck then. I hope you win.”

This is the wrong thing to say surrounded by your fellow Gryffindors as a few of them boo at you.

Theo rolls his eyes at the dramatics, while you simply scowl, pointedly at Seamus who seems to have boo’ed the loudest. Hermione is beaming at you when she hands Theo back his broomstick, though she also gives a little frown directed at Seamus.

Getting back on his broomstick, Theo hovers near you outside the stand. You lower your voice to a whisper that only he can hear. “I still hope you win.”

Theo shrugs, looking more relaxed than you’ve ever seen him during a Quidditch game. “I’ve already won, darling.”

#theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott scenarios #theodore nott smut #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott imagines #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott fanfiction #theodore nott

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ellemj · 4 months

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Bigger Than He Was

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader One-Shot: SMUT

Request by @littlemiss-yeehaw: jealous!Bucky, fake dating, handjob.

Summary: Bucky pretends to be your new man when you run into your ex in public. However, the little act of pretending sparks something inside of him that he didn't know was there.

Warnings: profanity, alcohol consumption, handjob, oral (male receiving), unprotected sex, breeding kink, slight size kink, jealous!Bucky, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Word Count: 7.8k

A/N: The first request I wrote from the smut menu had to be from my Tumblr best friend. Not only does she pre-read nearly everything that I post, but she keeps me from deleting my blog on a near daily basis, and she keeps me sane. I hope you all enjoy it as much as she did. If it wasn't for this girl, my blog would've been deleted before Needs & Wants was ever completed lmao.

You’ve decided that no one in the world looks more out of place than a super soldier in a grocery store. Specifically, a super soldier in the produce aisle of a small local market. He looks like a bull in a China shop as he scours through a bin of tomatoes to find ones he approves of. He holds one tomato in each of his leather gloved hands as he compares them carefully, acting like choosing between the two is every bit as difficult as deciding whether someone lives or dies in his usual line of work.

“They’re pretty much the same, Bucky, and we only need two. Just put them in a bag.” You say with a sigh, resting your elbows on the handle of the shopping cart that you’ve been pushing as you’ve trailed behind him. Though you’re the one carrying the team’s grocery list, Bucky’s been the one pulling things off of the shelves and setting them in the cart. You originally suggested each of you taking half of the list and splitting up to get the shopping done faster, and to avoid the pointless arguments and annoyances you’d face in each other’s presence, but Bucky’s only response to your idea was a furrowed brow and silence. So, you’ve been following him around with the shopping cart safely between the two of you.

Bucky starts to put both of the tomatoes down and pick two different ones just to bother you, but he takes the high road and bags the two he’s already holding instead. He’s usually assigned to grocery shopping with Sam, which he definitely prefers, but with Sam off to visit his family this week, he ended up being stuck with you.

“What’s next?” Bucky asks, setting the plastic bag of produce in the cart and then casting you a sideways glance. You cross tomatoes off of the small piece of paper in your hand before moving on to read the next item.

“We’re done with food items, next is ibuprofen, melatonin, and some feminine products.” You answer, lifting your gaze to meet his as you tap the pen against the piece of paper absentmindedly. Bucky nods curtly and starts leading the way down the aisle, knowing all of the aisles with medication, first aid, and toiletry type supplies are on the opposite end of the store. You follow a few feet behind him, missing your usual shopping buddy, Wanda. Though it’s a menial task, you always seem to have a fun time when the two of you are on the grocery schedule for the week. Bucky is a stark contrast to your far more bubbly, lighthearted friend.

You’re lost in thought as you turn a corner and enter the pharmacy aisle, not paying any attention as Bucky looks through various types of over-the-counter medications. It isn’t until you hear a voice one aisle over that you straighten up and tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. The voice sounds familiar, so familiar that you find your ears straining to hear it better so you can identify it. Is it an old friend? Someone from SHIELD? You can’t be sure, but you’re starting to think it isn’t a friend by the way your nerves seem to be rising with every incoherent word that they mutter. You leave Bucky standing at one end of the aisle as you walk ahead, trying to get closer to the source of the voice. You’re nearly at the opposite end of the aisle when suddenly, the front end of another shopping cart appears and quickly turns in front of you, almost colliding with the front end of yours. You stop abruptly for two reasons. The first reason being so you don’t cause a pileup on aisle thirteen. The second reason being because you now see whose voice was causing your heart rate to elevate and your stomach to twist into a knot. Your fucking ex-boyfriend.

“Oh, wow, hey!” The man before you extends the greeting so casually, as if he didn’t waste a year of your life with meaningless words and empty promises. He raises a hand to rub the back of his neck, his eyes darting over his shoulder just as a pretty blonde woman steps into view. Oh. “This is uh, this is my girlfriend.” He gestures to the woman before looking back at you with a wary glance, clearly trying to gauge how you feel about him committing to someone new so soon. The woman offers a small smile and wave as she introduces herself by name, but it all goes right over your head. You’re frozen like a deer in headlights, unable to tear your eyes away from the piece of shit behind the cart full of organic produce and a questionable amount of wine.

Bucky’s watching everything unfold from a few yards behind, acting as if he’s still deciding between a name brand bottle of ibuprofen and a generic version of the same. He gives you a few seconds to soak in the obviously awkward social situation as his eyes analyze your body language. You’re tense, your grip on the handle of the shopping cart is so tight that your knuckles are turning white. It’s been ten seconds since the woman introduced herself to you and you still haven’t uttered a word. Bucky glances to his right and notices the selection of condoms, lube, and pregnancy tests spread over the shelves next to the medication section. He only takes a second to weigh his options: let you continue to flounder in front of your shitty ex and his new victim or offer you an easy reprieve while simultaneously sending your ex into a mental spiral. His gloved hand wraps around a couple of boxes of pregnancy tests and he pulls them off of the shelf, signifying he’s chosen the latter.

“Oh, trying for a baby?” Your ex jokes when Bucky approaches from behind you and drops a handful of pregnancy tests into the cart.

“No, it’s just smart to have a few of these on hand when we only ever fuck raw. Do we know you?” Bucky’s tone is calm and even, like he’s just said something completely within the ordinary. It breaks you out of the trance you were in and you blink your eyes as you feel the heat from Bucky’s body enveloping you in warmth. He cages your body between his and the cart, his chest brushing against your back as he places his hands on either side of yours on the shopping cart handle. You don’t see the way his lips curve upward into a shit-eating grin as your ex’s face falls at both Bucky’s unfiltered words and the public display of affection he’s witnessing.

“Aren’t you…” The man addresses Bucky with slightly widened eyes and an unsure voice. You almost laugh at the effect Bucky has on the poor guy’s demeanor, and the fact that Bucky towers a few inches over the man is just icing on the cake.

“Bucky.” Your ex has just realized that not only are you grocery shopping with the Winter Soldier, but you’ve also been letting him fuck you.

---

Your week has been full of unexpected moments, but two stand out in particular. The first moment was when Bucky so calmly chose to play the role of your fake boyfriend at the grocery store three nights ago. Nearly every waking moment since then has been spent replaying it in your head, wondering why he decided to step in and do that for you, why he decided to take such a blunt approach and tell your ex that the two of you prefer unprotected sex, and how the hell he acted as if nothing happened immediately after the interaction was over. The second moment is unfolding right now. Your eyes are locked in on your phone screen as you mull over the text that’s displayed there.

Are you free tonight? Would love to sit down and catch up, want to talk about things.

You don’t have the number saved in your phone but you know exactly who it is. It’s the same shitty ex you ran into two nights ago, the same one who now thinks you’re fucking the Winter Soldier. Before you’ve even considered responding, a second message from the same unsaved number rolls in.

I’ll be at the bar we used to go to, the one off of 83rd street, in an hour. Hope to see you there.

The way your face scrunches up in confusion at the sight of the two texts on your phone screen piques Bucky’s interest as he steps off of the elevator and uses the collar of his t-shirt to dab sweat off of his neck. He’s just finished a pretty strenuous workout and had every intention of heading straight to his room to shower and spend the rest of the night in there, but he can’t ignore the feeling of some kind of invisible string tugging him in your direction. It was only two nights ago that he pressed himself against you in the grocery store and pretended like he knew what it’s like to have you in his bed. It was only two nights ago that you became a near constant thought in the back of his mind.

“Don’t tell me he texted you.” Bucky’s voice catches you off guard. You lift your gaze from your phone screen and lean back into the couch cushions, attempting to look perfectly at ease in his presence. Truth be told, you’ve been a little on edge around him since the night in the grocery store, but you don’t know why. Maybe because he saw you in such an embarrassing and vulnerable moment, in your own personal hell.

“He didn’t text me.” You lie, watching him carefully as the elevator doors close behind him and he takes the few steps across the room to reach the sectional you’re currently lounging on. It’s odd to see him sink into the opposite end of the piece of furniture so comfortably, like he’s such a normal guy. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him sit in the living room of his own free will, and it’s a sight to see.

“You’re a bad liar.” Bucky huffs. His expression turns thoughtful as he thinks back to his encounter with your ex that night. The corners of Bucky’s lips curl up into a smile when he remembers the way the guy practically shrank when he heard that the two of you like to fuck raw. “What does he want?” Bucky seems to have a sixth sense about this shit, so you decide to go with it and tell him the truth, see where it gets you.

“He said he wants to catch up and talk about things.”

“Right after seeing you with another guy.” Bucky points out, hoping you’ll see where this is going. You shrug your shoulders and cross your arms over your chest.

“I guess so, or maybe it’s unrelated. People break up and then discuss it later for closure sometimes, it’s a thing, Bucky.”

“So, you’re going?”

“I haven’t decided yet.” You answer honestly. You watch as Bucky nods slowly, as if he’s digesting the information and deciding what to do with it. He uses the collar of his t-shirt to wipe a bit of sweat away from his neck again, drawing your gaze down to the flexing of his bicep. You’re quick to avert your gaze back up to his eyes, but the satisfied smirk on his face tells you that he caught you looking.

“We’re going.” Bucky decides, sitting up a little straighter on the couch and running a hand through his sweaty hair. The bewildered look that takes over your face says it all.

“What the hell do you mean we’re going? There’s no we here, it’s just me.”

“I meant exactly what I said, we’re going.”

---

You stand in the garage of the compound, where everyone’s various vehicles are stored away safely. Your fingers pick at the frays of your black jeans absentmindedly as you lean against a concrete pillar, waiting for Bucky. You know you should just get in your own car and leave without him, there’s absolutely no good that will come out of letting him tag along for this. Yet, something in the back of your mind is tugging at you to stay and wait for him, to see what might come of this. Looking up at your reflection in the car window a few feet away from you, you take in the sight of your little ensemble. You’re wearing dark jeans paired with a tight little long-sleeved crop top that shows the tiniest bit of your midriff. You wanted to wear something fairly plain yet something that showed a little skin, so this is what you settled on.

Unbeknownst to you, Bucky’s outfit for tonight will go well with your own. He’s wearing dark jeans as well, but with a dark t-shirt and black leather jacket. As the elevator carries him down to the lowest floor of the compound, he has a brief second of clarity where he asks himself what the fuck he thinks he’s doing. First, he went against every rational thought in his mind when he pretended to be your boyfriend in a damn grocery store. Then, he spent two nights thinking about what it might’ve been like if he actually had been fucking you raw like he’d told to your ex he was. Those two nights ruined him. You ruined him. It took less than 48 hours for his mind to become completely preoccupied with you.

When the elevator slows to a stop and the doors slide open to let him into the private parking garage beneath the compound, his eyes fall on you instantly. Fuck. One look at you and he’s immediately decided that you’re not taking a car, no, you’re taking his bike. Hell, you’re dressed near-perfectly for it. The only issue is that bit of smooth skin you have showing beneath the hem of your little top, he’s not going to take you out on his bike and risk ruining that perfect skin of yours with road rash.

The ding of the elevator draws your attention to your right, where Bucky is stepping into the parking garage looking totally different than when you saw him upstairs half an hour ago. His messy hair has been washed and dried, his flesh and metal biceps are hidden within the sleeves of his leather jacket, and his neck is no longer glistening with a sheen of sweat. You’re unashamedly focusing on the way his jeans are accentuating the muscles of his thighs when he starts stripping off his leather jacket.

“Put this on.” He says as he holds the jacket out to you with one hand, reaching into the back pocket of his jeans with the other to fish out the key for his bike. Your eyes widen as you stare at the jacket in his outstretched hand. Shaking your head, you take a step back from him.

“Why?”

“Because you’re not riding on the back of my bike with skin showing, it’s not safe.”

“The back of your bike? Bucky, we’re taking a car.” You say defiantly, crossing your arms over your chest. Bucky can’t ignore the way your breasts are slightly pushed up by the action, a hint of cleavage peeking out over the lowcut neckline of your top. He quickly averts his gaze back to his motorcycle that stands a few feet in front of you both, a sigh leaving his lips at your stubbornness.

“Just put on the damn jacket.” He says, looking over at you one more time, but this time with a softened expression. You don’t know why you comply and take the jacket from him, but you do. It’s warmed from his body heat when you slip your arms into it and the way it engulfs you and pulls down on your shoulders with a bit of weight is almost comforting.

The motorcycle ride to the bar, however, is anything but comforting. The only other time you’ve ever been so close to Bucky was that night at the grocery store when he cozied up behind you for show. But this felt different. This involved your chest pressed against his back, your inner thighs brushing against his hips, and your arms wrapped around his torso. This felt intimate. It felt the same way to Bucky and he couldn’t ignore it, no matter how hard he tried. When he stopped at a redlight in the city, you let your hold around his abdomen relax for a moment. Your hands slid down to rest on the tops of his thighs as you remained pressed against his back, and he was praying for the light to turn green again before one of your hands had a chance to shift and find out how hard he was beneath the fabric of his jeans. He can only blame himself for the torture, since he was the one that insisted you take the bike.

When you turn onto the right street, you’re quick to tap Bucky’s thigh with your hand, completely missing the way he tenses up beneath your unexpected touch. You use that same hand to point to a small parking garage across the street from the bar that you’ll be heading into, and Bucky gets the signal. It’s only two minutes later that he’s parking his bike on the third floor of the garage and trying to keep his eyes off of you as you stand beside the bike, removing your helmet carefully. Some part of him can’t help but think that you’re being so careful because you want to look your best when you waltz into the bar to meet your ex, and he fucking hates it. He has the sudden urge to mess your hair up and send you in there looking like shit. But that urge only makes him think about all of the ways he could mess your hair up. He could grab you by it and pull you against him, he could run his hands through it and rake it into a ponytail while you’re on your knees for him…shit. He just volunteered to drive you to the bar to meet your ex. He can’t do a damn thing.

You hand Bucky your helmet and immediately start smoothing down your hair, seeing the look of disdain he gives you but choosing to ignore it. He had no obligation to be here with you tonight, but he insisted, so he has to put up with it.

“You don’t have to go in with me, I can do this on my own.” You say, hoping Bucky will choose to wait for you in the parking garage rather than go inside the bar with you.

“What are you planning to do?” Bucky asks, swinging his leg over as he dismounts the bike and joins you on the concrete floor. He stands in front of you, slipping his gloves off and resting them on the seat of the bike before reaching under the chin of his helmet to undo the strap there. Your eyes drift to the veins on his flesh hand and golden accents on his vibranium hand as you formulate a believable response.

“Hear him out, give him closure or whatever he’s here for.”

“Whatever he’s here for?” Bucky repeats your words almost sarcastically, scoffing beneath his helmet. When he pulls it off and rests it on the seat next to his gloves, you can see he’s scowling. “Why are you playing dumb? He’s here for you.”

“No, he isn’t. He’s with someone else now, and he thinks I am too.” You point out. A low chuckle rumbles past Bucky’s lips as he runs a hand through his hair and starts toward the concrete staircase on the other end of the floor.

“That’s exactly why he’s doing this, because he thinks you’re with someone else and he can’t stand it.” Bucky sounds so sure of himself, as if he’s experienced something like this before. In fact, he sounds so sure that it makes you wonder if he really has experienced this before.

“You think he’s jealous? You saw the girl he was with, didn’t you?” You question, falling into step next to Bucky. His leather jacket still sits heavy on your shoulders but giving it back to him hasn’t even crossed your mind yet. Bucky’s hoping you’ll forget about it and keep it on when you walk in and sit down across from that piece of shit ex you’re here for.

“She doesn’t have shit on you and he knows it.” His words leave your lips parted and your eyes widening in surprise as he reaches the staircase and starts heading down in front of you. As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. For the most part, you’ve only ever heard him talk about you with an air of annoyance or indifference, but you could swear that what he just said was almost complimentary. If you could see the grimace on Bucky’s face, you’d know you were right. When he saw the blonde in the grocery store, he wanted to laugh at the way the guy had downgraded after losing you. She was pretty, sure, but you glow like the fucking sun even on your worst day.

“So, what should I be doing here tonight then?” You ask, knowing Bucky probably has a plan in mind if he came all this way just to witness what’s about to go down.

“Showing him that you don’t need him, that you’re better off without him.” You reach the bottom of the stairs and step out onto the sidewalk across from the bar. Bucky turns to face you as you scan the area for a crosswalk.

“And how do I do that?”

“For starters…” Bucky says, stepping closer to you and grabbing the front of his leather jacket that you’re still sporting, “keep this on.”

---

Bucky’s been standing at the bar for the last fifteen minutes, nursing both a beer and an aching jaw. The ache is from how hard he’s been clenching his teeth together since your ex strolled in and took the seat across from you at a little two-seater table across the room. Of course, the guy showed up without his new girl. And, of course, he’s been trying like hell to get you to smile and laugh at whatever half-assed jokes he’s been cracking since he sat down. Bucky knew the guy wasn’t after closure.

He watches with a less-than-pleased look on his face as the guy leans his elbows on the table and rests his hands a little too close to yours, but you don’t pull away. You’re sitting facing Bucky’s direction, yet you haven’t once let your eyes flit up to meet his. It’s infuriating. Bucky strains his ears to pick out your conversation through the din of the usual bar chatter around him. He listens intently as the guy tells you that it was nice to run into you at the grocery store, that he didn’t know if he’d ever see you again, that he missed the way you laughed. What a fucking ass. If Bucky remembers correctly, from overhearing gossip among the team, the guy had you nearly head over heels for him, and then one day he pulled the rug out from under you in and instant. He never even gave you much of a reason why. He simply called you up, ended the relationship over the phone, and a week later you heard through the grapevine that he’d met someone else. Why you felt compelled to meet the guy here tonight, Bucky will never understand. He doesn’t think the prick deserves even a minute of your time.

“So, you’re really seeing someone else now?” The man’s voice is like nails on a chalkboard to Bucky’s sensitive ears, but he continues to focus on your conversation anyway. Bucky has to know how you’ll respond. He watches out of the corner of his eye as you push a stray lock of hair back over your shoulder, over the shoulder of his leather jacket, and then you blush. Why are you blushing? Bucky’s heart starts to race in the slightest because he can’t figure out if you’re blushing at the idea of you and him being together or at your ex prying into your personal life.

“Yeah, he uh…at the grocery store, he…” You stutter through your answer. Like Bucky previously said, you’re a bad liar. The pink showing through the skin of your cheeks darkens another shade as you look away from your ex. Your eyes finally land on Bucky, who’s now standing at the bar facing you head-on. He holds your gaze assuredly and gives you a small nod, letting you know that you’re saying the right things. Somehow, just making eye contact with him and getting that small nod of approval calms your nerves.

“Right, I remember. I guess I kind of thought that was a joke.”

“A joke?” You ask, a bit offended at your ex’s confession. He rubs his hand across the back of his neck and lets out an awkward laugh before leaning back in his chair comfortably and taking a sip of his drink.

“Yeah, I mean the guy said you only ever fuck raw. You never once asked me to fuck you raw. It just didn’t sound believable.” Huh. You’re silent for a moment as you sip on your own drink and let your gaze float back to Bucky once more, unaware that he’s just heard every word that the man said. The two of you stare at each other with some kind of…tension in the air between your table and the bar. Honestly, if you and Bucky were actually together in some alternate universe where you didn’t find each other incredibly annoying from the start, you think you would love to let him fuck you without protection. Something about it just sounds so filthy and enticing. But when you imagine it with the man that’s currently sitting in front of you, the man who promised you a lifetime and then kicked you to the curb like a broken piece of furniture, you cringe. No, you never asked him to take off the condom, and you probably never would have. Truthfully, that should’ve been a sign.

Bucky’s eyes analyze the two of you as you put on a tight-lipped smile and then relax in your seat, fiddling with the zipper of the leather jacket draped around your frame.

“It didn’t sound believable?” You ask softly, looking up through your lashes in a way that makes Bucky’s cock twitch, and he’s not even the one you’re looking at. When you do flit your eyes over to him, he can sense the change in your demeanor instantly. You’re not coming off so lighthearted and timid now, you’re giving off an air that says you-don’t-know-who-the-fuck-I-am anymore. “When I look at you, I can’t even fathom the two of us having unprotected sex. It never once crossed my mind to ask you for that. But when I look at him?” You let your gaze travel over to Bucky once more, and this time your ex catches on. He turns in his chair, scanning the bar behind him until he sees the super soldier leaning against the bar with a smug smile on full display. “When I look at him, I can’t stop imagining it.”

---

Bucky’s leather jacket weighing on your shoulders, his body warmth seeping through his t-shirt and offering you reprieve from the wind that’s hitting you both head-on, his right hand reaching back to grip the side of your thigh as he weaves his bike skillfully in and out of traffic on the way back to the compound. All of those things are mixing and swirling together to create a near suffocating tension. You’re focusing on keeping your helmet from bumping into the back of his and even more than that, on keeping your mind out of the damn gutter. What you’d said back at the bar, the final thing you’d said before your ex realized he had no chance at getting back together with you, it was true. When you look at Bucky, you can’t stop imagining him fucking you without anything between your body and his. You don’t know when that started or when it might end, but it’s true. So, you left with him, climbing onto the back of his bike much more willingly than you had earlier in the evening. Not because you wanted to be close to him, but because you wanted to get home as fast as possible so you could get the hell away from him. Where on earth did this new found attraction come from? Why was your mind betraying your body with every single glance in his direction? Fuck physiology.

Bucky can almost hear you overthinking behind him as he turns off of the interstate and onto a quiet, private road leading up to the compound. Hell, he’s overthinking too. He heard what you said at the bar, and he saw the look in your eyes when you said it. Had you been thinking about him the same way he’d been thinking about you since that night at the grocery store. No, there’s no way. If you really had been, then you wouldn’t have wanted to meet up with your ex tonight. Bucky lets out a breath and slows the bike as he nears the entrance to the parking garage. Neither of you said a word when your ex stormed out of the bar, nor did either of you when you made the walk across the street to the public parking garage and started the ride back home. It’s been silent, unbearably silent for too long.

When Bucky finally parks the bike among the various vehicles owned by your friends and colleagues that reside upstairs, it seems as though you can’t get away from him fast enough. You swing your leg over and dismount the bike quickly before slipping your helmet off and taking a few steps over to the wall to set it on the shelf it originally came from. You’re halfway to the elevator when Bucky speaks, stopping you in your tracks.

“The jacket, sweetheart.” He says coolly. When you turn around, you see him still sitting on the bike, looking down at the helmet he holds in his hands. It almost bothers you that he isn’t looking back at you. He can call you sweetheart but he can’t lift his eyes to your face? You let out a deep sigh before walking back over to him and standing a foot away from him and the bike. You strip off the leather jacket a bit reluctantly before holding it out to him. You have to admit you feel a bit like you’re missing something without it on now. Bucky takes it without glancing in your direction, and as soon as you turn on your heel to walk away, you can hear him dismounting the bike and setting his own helmet on the shelf. You’ve just hit the button to call the elevator down to the garage when he decides to speak once again. “You’re a bad liar.”

“What?”

“You’re a bad liar. I don’t know much about you, but I know that.” Bucky says. You stand in front of the elevator but you can’t tear your gaze away from him when he’s speaking so ominously. You watch him carefully as he turns away from the shelf and faces you, but still doesn’t lift his gaze to meet yours. Instead, he smooths out his leather jacket before laying it over one arm and tucking the keys to his bike into the back pocket of his jeans.

“What does that have to do with anything?” You question, crossing your arms over your chest. Your eyes dart back to the screen above the elevator. It’s still so many floors away from reaching you.

“I knew you were lying when you told me he hadn’t texted you. I don’t even think your piece-of-shit ex believed you at first when he asked if you were really seeing someone new, you couldn’t even get a full sentence out. You’re a bad liar.” The words pour out of his mouth with ease, as if he pre-planned the entire speech. When you don’t say anything, he finally lifts his eyes to meet your narrowed stare. A shiver runs down your spine, but you blame it on the fact that you’re no longer wearing his jacket. “When I look at him, I can’t stop imagining it.” When Bucky repeats your words so perfectly, you can feel all of the color draining from your face. “When you said that, you didn’t stutter, you didn’t hesitate. You weren’t lying.”

“You think I was being honest?” The question leaves your lips with a hint of anger edging each word. Bucky merely shrugs in response, tilting his head to the side as he waits for you to answer your own question, since it’s obvious that he thinks you were being honest. “You think I look at you and imagine you fucking me raw?”

“Do you?” Bucky taunts, licking his bottom lip before drawing it between his lips and pressing his top teeth into it. Your gaze darts down to his lips against your better judgement, and when your eyes settle back on his, all you see is a reflection of what you’re sure your own eyes are showing. Lust. He thinks about it. He thinks about fucking you raw. In this moment, you’re sure. In fact, he’s thinking about it right now.

Your feet start moving before you even have a moment to consider the action, they’re carrying you straight toward him, ignoring the elevator that’s just arrived to take you away from him. When you stop a few inches in front of him, he’s staring down at you with a raised brow and building anticipation. He wants your answer.

“Yes.” You breathe the word out. In an instant, Bucky’s dropping his jacket to the floor and tangling his flesh hand in the hair at the nape of your neck as his pulls you into him, crashing his lips against yours. It’s a kiss that takes your breath away and fills your lungs with a fiery burn, yet you don’t want to break for air. You kiss him back, moving your lips to suck along his bottom one as you tilt your head to the right to give each of you better access. Bucky languidly drags the tip of his tongue along your top lip before snaking it lower and letting it delve into your mouth. God, he might’ve imagined fucking you but truthfully, he forgot to imagine kissing you. He never would’ve thought it could be this good. His vibranium arm wraps around your lower back, pulling you closer into him until his body warmth begins sending tingles across the surface of your skin. Once he has you flush against him, that same cool metal hand begins unwrapping from your back and traveling down until it’s in place to grip a handful of your ass, hard. When you gasp into the kiss, Bucky pulls back and bites down on your bottom lip. Fuck. If you don’t stop him now, he won’t be able to stop himself from having you right here in the garage. As if you’re reading his mind, you place both hands on his chest and pull your head back until there’s an inch of space between your mouths. While your eyes are focused on his pink nose and swollen lips, your mind is focused on what you feel pressing against your thigh. He’s fully erect, his cock straining against the front of his jeans just from kissing you. You could overthink this, let your mind weigh all of the pros and cons of what’s happening right now, and then convince yourself to be responsible and go upstairs to your own room, pretending this never happened. But for some reason, your right hand is already coasting down his chest, over his abs, and sliding between your lower bodies. You find yourself palming the outline of his cock, offering him such a perfect amount of pressure and friction that he can’t help but lean his hips forward and press his cock further into your touch.

“If you don’t stop now…” Bucky rasps, but his eyes flutter closed and he bites down on his lower lip before he’s even finished the sentence, your sensual touch getting the better of him.

“If I don’t stop now?” You encourage him to say what he wants to say, but you can’t fight the teasing smile that’s beginning to play on your lips.

“If you don’t stop now, you won’t be able to return all of those pregnancy tests on your next grocery run.” You laugh lightly as you lean in and press a soft kiss against Bucky’s jawline, continuing to rub his erection through the taut fabric of his jeans. “Are you thinking about fucking me raw, James?” You tease. Bucky groans before opening his eyes and pulling you away from his jaw by your hair. He doesn’t stop you from slowly sliding your hand back and forth along the outline of his cock, but he makes sure you’re looking right in his eyes before he speaks again.

“Right here in this damn parking garage.”

Without a single thought in either of your minds, Bucky lets you push your palms flat against his chest and walk him back until he stumbles onto the seat of his motorcycle. In one swift movement, you slip your hand past the waistband of his jeans and boxers and the warm skin of your hand comes into contact with his hard length, without anything between the two of you. Bucky lets out a heady groan and his hands begin moving all on their own, working to unbutton and unzip his jeans to give your hand as much space as possible. As soon as he has his pants undone, you shift your hand and wrap it firmly around his cock, giving it a slow stroke inside of his boxers. When you near the head of it, a bead of precum drips onto the side of your thumb and you smile to yourself as you spread it back over the smooth tip of his cock. What is it about having a man this way that makes a woman feel so damn powerful? Bucky looks at you with a mix of annoyance and awe at the way you’re working his cock so effortlessly yet turning him into putty in your hands. He’ll let you have your fun for now, and then he’ll show you that he can have the same effect on you.

The moment your eyes lock onto his, he slides his right hand along the side of your jaw and pulls you in for a kiss, the taste of your lips and the feel of your hand stroking back and forth along his hard-on is nearly enough to send him over the edge, and he inhales sharply, tugging his lips away from your own.

“I’m not going to have much use for those pregnancy tests if we keep going like this, am I?” You ask jokingly, as you remove your hand from Bucky’s pants and raise it up to your face. Bucky runs a hand through his hair as he blows out a breath and watches you intently. Your thumb, still a bit shiny and wet from his precum, ventures dangerously close to your mouth. You keep your eyes trained on Bucky’s as you use that same thumb to tug down your bottom lip before sliding it into your mouth and sucking.

“Oh, fuck.” Bucky groans, his rationality fleeing as his own flesh hand delves into his pants and begins mimicking your actions from a moment ago. The way your eyes follow his movements, your pupils blown wide with lust as you watch him touch himself, it’s too damn much for him. He grabs you by the hair once again, in that desperate, needy way that you’re quickly growing to love, and pulls you against his chest, kissing you as fervently as the first time. However, this kiss doesn’t last. He pulls away from you in an instant and suddenly, his hand is on your shoulder, pushing you down to your knees. Before you reach the floor, he uses the toe of his boot to slide his discarded leather jacket across the floor to cushion your knees. So fucking thoughtful.

Bucky stands up with you on your knees in front of him and his bike resting on its kickstand behind him. His eyes never part from your face as he pushes his already undone pants and boxers down his thighs just enough to free his cock from their confines. Your breath hitches in your throat as soon as you lay eyes on it, as soon as you lay eyes on the sheer size of it. Bucky doesn’t make a move to stop you as you reach up with both hands and take hold of his length, using one hand to begin stroking it from the base to the tip while your other hand grips his thigh. Your eyes widen at the way it looks even bigger in your hand, which is a mental image that Bucky will probably be recalling every day for the rest of his life. You’re more than ready to lean in and take him in your mouth, to experience every second of what it’s like to suck him off, but his gentle touch halts your movements. His flesh hand softly cups the side of your face as he lets his thumb caress the skin over your cheekbone.

“You’re so much bigger than he was.” You whisper, your eyes traveling up Bucky’s torso until you’re getting lost in his gaze. It’s true. Your ex was…well below average in this department. But Bucky? God, Bucky is so far above average it’s actually making you wonder if you can even fit half of him in your mouth. Bucky chuckles lowly before tracing your bottom lip with his thumb, and then copying your earlier move. He slips the pad of his thumb between your lips and watches with hooded eyes as you eagerly accept it, sucking on it gently. Fuck. He’s so ruined. Only a moment later, he’s standing there with his head thrown back and a string of curses are falling from his mouth as you bob your head back and forth, letting his cock slide along your tongue and brush against the back of your throat repeatedly. He’s fully lost in the pleasure of your mouth. He’s so lost, in fact, that when you grip his thighs with both hands and lean into him as far as you possibly can, letting your nose brush against his lower stomach and your throat tighten around his shaft as you gag, he lets out a groan that reverberates through the parking garage and sends a fresh wave of heat straight to your core.

“Fuck, do that again.” He rasps, finally looking down at you as you pull your head back until only the tip is resting on your tongue. A smile plays behind your eyes as you dare to look up at him. He can’t help himself. Both of his hands move to run through your hair, encouraging you to do exactly what he just said. You repeat your actions, moving your head forward and taking his entire length in until you gag a second time. But this time, Bucky holds your head still there for two seconds. His eyes squeeze shut as your throat grips his cock tighter and tighter, the sensation bringing him so close to the edge that he abruptly pulls back and leaves only half of his length for you to taste. “Just like that, shit.” Another minute of your mouth doing exactly what Bucky wants and he’s fighting with every cell in his body to delay the inevitable. He wanted to fuck you raw, truly, it was his intention from the moment you admitted you thought about it. But having you like this? Having you on your knees for him, telling him that his dick is bigger than the last piece of shit you were with? God, he’s so close to cumming in your mouth that it almost hurts.

“I’m so fucking close.” He groans the words out as if he’s in pain, as if he’s holding back because he doesn’t want to cum in your mouth. That just won’t do. So, you release him from your mouth with a pop and start working him with your hand as you tilt your chin up to meet his gaze.

“You don’t want to cum in my mouth?” You ask innocently, looking up at him through your lashes. It’s the same way you looked in the bar earlier and he feels his last bit of resolve crumbling. He could easily cum in your mouth, but that’s just not what he needs right now. In that desperate, needy way that you love, Bucky grasps your hair and pulls you to your feet. A whimper leaves your lips as his cock slips out of your hand.

“No.” Bucky says calmly, turning you around and pushing your back forward until your hands land on the seat of his bike. “I’m going to give you a reason to use one of those damn pregnancy tests.”

He’s swift in pulling down your jeans and panties with both hands, and then lining his cock up with your entrance and making you think he’s going to fuck you. But no, Bucky lets the tip of his cock gather the wetness that you’ve been sitting in since you left the bar, and then he begins chasing his release with his own hand. You let out a needy whine, pushing your hips back against him and hoping his cock will just happen to notch inside of you and slide all the way in, but Bucky isn’t going to let it happen until he’s ready.

He has a plan. He’s going to fill you with his cum first, then use his fingers, his tongue, and his cock to fuck it back into you after. The next time your run into your ex, Bucky wants you to be so fucking pregnant that the guy loses his goddamn mind.

There will be no tag list for the smut menu requests.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #mcu #marvel #the winter soldier #winter soldier

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yueebby · 8 months

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sooo i read your "indulge me?" piece and that's why i wanted to ask for gojo simping for reader that doesn't really seem him as more as a friend and he's fine with it (lol he's not but he's need to keep the facade you know???) hope you write it at some point! btw loving you writing so far <333

11:34pm — gojo satoru

contents. highschool!gojo, fluff, he’s so in love bye, underage drinking, tokyo and kyoto students have a little get together!

“what’s wrong with him?” utahime watches her white haired underclassman down another can of beer. it was rare to see gojo drinking with the rest of the group, always opting for a soda instead.

shoko takes another swig out of her drink, unsurprised. “[name] is on a date.”

a pathetic groan leaves gojo’s lips and the upper half of his body is splayed over the kotatsu in shoko’s room, sunglasses long forgotten somewhere. he lets out an unapologetic burp. everyone at the table spares him a glance of pity.

utahime grimaces and mutters a quiet, “gross”.

“don’t provoke him,” geto scolds shoko, flicking some ash from his cigarette to the ashtray below. “she’s just dealing with clan matters. arranged marriages and whatnot.” he used his free hand to land a firm pat on gojo’s back. what kind of best friend would he be if he didn’t try to comfort satoru?

“poor thing. i can keep you company in the meantime,” mei mei’s smile is far from something with good intentions. gojo shakes his head to refuse, but with the way his forehead was pressed to the table, it looked comical. like a child throwing a tantrum.

the only thing that managed to get gojo satoru out of his drunken slump was a soft knock on the door. he could recognize that pattern anywhere. could it be–? the snow haired boy immediately perks up. his drunk dazed eyes brighten as he quickly makes his way to the door.

geto snorts at the way his best friend reacts. he thinks he can see an imaginary tail wagging, as if he were a dog.

“you’re late!” gojo accuses you when he opens the door. you blink.

“are you…okay?” your voice is laced with concern as gojo’s large frame towers over you. gojo preens.

“awww, is my [name] worried about me now? don’t worry, ‘m doing just fine!” there is a goofy grin painted on gojo’s face as he leans against the doorway. all conversation has stopped and every sorcerer was listening attentively to gojo's hopeless conversation with you. utahime can’t help but feel just a little compassion for the boy. he was pining so much it hurt.

“i wasn’t worried. it's just that your words are all slurred– don’t tell me you let shoko talk you into drinking with her again?” you sigh. it was hard to miss the smell of beer on him. gojo and alcohol never mixed well, and the last thing you needed tonight was another lecture from yaga.

from inside her room, shoko shouts, “it wasn’t me this time! the idiot decided to drown himself in beer after we warned him not to!” it was common knowledge that gojo couldn’t handle his alcohol.

the male in question pouts.

“can a man not grieve about the love of his life being married to another?” gojo deflates. on the other side of the threshold, you wrinkle your nose.

“who said anything about marriage? like hell i’m going to accept a proposal from naoya zen’in.” you grumble. it had been a long night. dealing with your family and naoya was enough to scare you into staying in jujutsu tech for good. you’d rather lose your sanity to gojo than your dignity to naoya.

“never mind that though, are mei mei and utahime still here? i was hoping to catch up with them!” you smile, crouching under his arm to make your way into the room. gojo doesn’t hesitate to trail right behind you.

“[name]!” utahime waves happily at you, her mood no longer sour after she sees you. your wave back is enthusiastic. mei mei acknowledges your presence.

“how was dinner with naoya?” suguru asks. your face pinches up. he laughs before handing you a cold can of soda which you accept graciously.

you hear gojo mutter to himself from behind you.

“what’s up with him?” you whisper to suguru.

“you know how he is when he drinks,” he sighs, ushering you to sit beside him. gojo seemed to have his own agenda though, forcefully squeezing himself between the two of you. you shoot him an annoyed look to which he responds with a grin on his face.

“‘m tired,” he whines, stretching his arms dramatically while letting out a loud yawn. you grunt when there’s a heavy weight on you; gojo has thrown his entire body on your side.

you don’t bother pushing him off. you’ve learned in the two years you’ve known gojo that he is like a baby when he gets drunk. it’s best if you let him have his way.

“go to sleep then, idiot,” you flick his forehead. he juts his bottom lip childishly, looking up at you with wide eyes. his eyes are captivating and you think you see nervousness through those azure orbs.

“will you come to bed with me too?” he rests his chin on your shoulder. you raise an eyebrow in surprise.

“eh? why would i?”

“because i’m cute.” gojo bats those long eyelashes of his innocently. you roll your eyes playfully before taking another sip out of your soda.

“you’re weird– that’s what you are.” your lips quirk upward, eyes twinkling with mirth. he sulks, chin still comfortably supported by your shoulder.

“‘m not that bad!” he protests, a frown forming on his lips. you look at him for a long moment. this was the first time you’ve ever gotten to look at gojo this closely.

his hair was getting longer, you note silently. with your free hand, you slowly move a strand of hair out of his face. gojo watches you earnestly. if his cheeks were not already flushed, they are now.

“can we stop it with the flirting? let us single folk live in peace.” shoko speaks up. you turn your attention hastily from gojo to the rest of your fellow peers.

“i feel like i’m intruding on something,” mei mei says scandalously. your eyes widen.

“we are not– no way!” you shake your head repeatedly. no one believes you. especially not while gojo is still resting on your shoulder, eyes watching you, full of love.

“stop giving him all your attention and talk to us! we’re much better company,” utahime scowls, pointing her beer disapprovingly at the white haired boy on you. you think you hear gojo grunt.

“alright, alright,” you concede.

“i hope you don’t mind me asking again, but do tell us how your night with the zen’in kid went,” suguru snickers. you groan exasperatedly.

“where do i even start?”

the rest of the night goes by pleasantly. you had been so engrossed with retelling your experience with dealing with your family that you had failed to notice what gojo was up to. by the time everyone left their respective dorms (or temporary dorms), you noticed the head of white hair sleeping soundly on your lap.

he mumbles something in his sleep, nuzzling himself closer into your stomach. cute. you giggle at how innocent he looks.

you don’t know what took over you, but you remember bending down and placing a soft kiss on his forehead. to your surprise, gojo reciprocates your kiss. to the best of his capabilities anyway. you watch as he puckers his lips in his sleep. oh my– how precious.

you suppose he isn't so bad.

notes. THANK U FOR BEING MY FIRST ANON ASK. ily!!! i saw somewhere that gege confirmed gojo would have drunken failures when he was a student haha this is my take on that. hes so bf

also thank you for all the support on my first post?!? you guys are too sweet im crying. i literally giggle and kick my feet reading your feedback ><

#kt.writes.·:*¨༺#gojo x reader #gojo fluff #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojou satoru x you #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo x you #jjk x reader #remember spring days!au

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yanderenightmare · 3 months

Text

TW: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, omegaverse/hybrid au, size difference, pet-play, predator x prey, collaring, handcuffing

fem reader

Think about being a bleating little bunny hunted down by two big bad wolves…

Your fear tastes so good – layered thickly in the air – so sweet in their mouth it’s almost painful how hungry it makes them – seeped and soaked and stained on the bed where they keep you collared and leashed for their own personal use.

You drive them both wild with your aroma and all your cute little struggles where you try so adorably to shove them away and crawl out of their reach. It’s never any use, and yet you still try despite being so stupidly small beneath them – so tiny it only takes one of their hefty hands to have you completely overpowered.

But they’re as sweet as they can be – as sweet as your smaller body allows them to be when it so obviously isn’t meant to take their thicker fatter meaner cocks in its petite little holes – prepping you on tongues and big fingers until you’re as loose as you get before stuffing you with something that’s always going to be too big for you.

They have to tie your hands to something – where despite them being fruitless in their effort, they can become bothersome to leave free – often attaching them to the loop in your collar, so you keep them to yourself all cutely while they mark you with their fangs – making you into a pretty artwork with coarse fingers rubbing your perky little nipples into sore nubs.

You’re really just too cute; it’s cruel – looking up at them with those adorably big eyes and that button nose wrinkling on each little sniffle when you beg them to let you go. Lop-ears sadly framing your face – so soft in their hands and so sensitive it makes you bite your lip all preciously each time they give them a little nibble.

You sob under their touches – knees shaking – as one of them laps at your clit with a bearded chin tickling your puffy pussy-lips, gnawing some on the swollen flesh while slurping your hole. His thick and eager tongue paints through your slit again and again and again on an unrelenting repeat – similar to the eager tail whipping behind him – swallowing all your juice down – growling ferally at the maddening taste while your thighs sweetly tremble around his jaw.

Your other predator bites on the plump of your ass, leaving spotted rings in his wake. Cupping your buttcheeks – fully fitting in the palms of his mighty paws – he cards his claws into the fat and spreads them wide open for an attack on that pretty tight little ring hidden between them. You always whine so sweetly for him – your cute fluffy cottontail doing a little dance while he circles your rim with his tongue – warning you of what’s to come later in the day when he’s finally had the taunt hole fully stretched and as ready as it gets to take his fat knot.

He moans into you while thinking about it – about your cute bunny butt swallowing his meat and being blown full of his thick creampie. Going livid at the mere thought alone – his cock bobs impatiently against his happy trail while he forces restraint upon himself – knowing how if he tries splitting your poor little butt on his pole now, he’d most likely tear you in two.

Instead, he amuses himself by prodding the pretty hole with the tip of a very special golden carrot – fresh batteries turning your rim numb while he slides ring after thicker ring inside you until you close around the tuft of golden leaves at its end. Tugging on his cock impatiently, he places his head – fluffy pointy ear-down upon your belly – listening to the drums echo inside you as he turns the vibrations up high enough to feel it through your skin.

Of course, he wants to make sure that his precious little bunny is prepped and ready before subjugating you to a good butt-fuck – being kind enough to satisfy himself with your mouth until then – making you cry and choke around his thickness, swallowing his cock down your tight throat until your little nose burrow in the dark curls around his base – watching the pretty furrow between your brows beg for air as your eyes roll back and turn white with desperation.

He lets you suck his balls as mercy once you’ve choked him down long enough – to the point you’ve lost your pretty voice – gripping one of your lop ears, he holds it tightly by the base – thinking there's nothing cuter than spitting on your chubby bunny-face while you dizzily comfort yourself by nuzzling his sack so sweetly.

Your pussy is left alone after it’s made swollen by a handful of orgasms, but not before the abuser slaps his handiwork with a grin. He wipes his chin off your slick, then grabs your other free ear – messaging the softness as he pulls your mouth off the other’s sack and onto his cock – fucking the pocket of your cheek while you sob from their rough handlings – fearing they might just tear your poor ears off.

They both stand above you as you kneel for them by their feet, lolling your teary lips against their heavy balls – groaning as you give them all sloppy, open-mouthed kisses as they fight for space in your tiny mouth – telling you to beg for the cum stored inside while you slide you pink little tongue over them until they drip with your drool. Then, making your lip and mouth the spine of their shafts, sliding both fat manhoods between your plump lips until making you take one head at a time, licking the slit clean of slaty precum.

But more than childsplay with their cocks on your cute face, they like propping your other two holes – make you moan and cream on them – entirely obsessed with fucking you full of the two of them – pushing in so deep, they have you screaming and shaking in uncontrollable spasms as you clamp down hard around them.

It feels extra sweet when they fuck you at the same time – feeling the other through the wall separating the holes – timing their thrusts – pushing in until completely sheathed down to the base, bottomed-out with their knot swelling up inside you, pumping you full of hot cum before sloshing out – leaving you panting and twitching.

Both holes fluttering around their absence – they inspect them to see how good they have your little bunny-holes stretched – grinning at the sight of both entrances gaping for them as though they can’t wait to be taken by their big dicks – both chuckling deeply when seeing how much of their cum your tightness pushes out before they fuck it right back inside you again – completely mesmerized by the big belly bulge the two of them are making in your tiny body – taken and riveted by the thought of breeding you despite knowing that it would be impossible for you to carry either of their pups.

None of it keeps them from emptying the full value of their balls inside you for the umpteenth time – both of them slobbering at your neck while messaging you with big hands on your tits and hips, hissing out carnivorous desires your feeble constitution doesn’t understand before they sink their teeth down hard into the soft flesh of your vulnerable neck – claiming you as both their pretty little prey and silly little mate.

BNHA – EndMight, EndHawks, BakuDeku, KiriBaku, DabiHawks, ShigaDabi

JJK – Toji x Shiu, SatoSugu

HQ – Miya twins

DS – DouAka

HxH – HisoIllu

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere smut #yancore #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #jjk smut #bnha smut #yandere bnha #mha smut #my hero smut

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kentofic · 2 months

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Eyes on me - Nanami Kento x f!reader

absolute pwp 18+ MDNI — cw: dry humping, oral, overstimulation, praise, throat fucking, a needy brat of a reader, and just all around self-indulgent filth

Fuck the euphemisms and the beating around the bush. You’re horny. You’ve been clenching your thighs all day at work. You’ve been indulging in dirty daydreams that always end in you bent over a desk. You’ve been doing kegels just to feel something.

But Kento is holed up in his office, ignoring you.

You pace back and forth in front of the door to his home office. You figure you should leave him be. He already hates overtime, and he’s probably in a rotten mood. But you’ve had such a long day, and you’re so wound up now, you won’t get through even the coldest shower without breaking and touching yourself. And to be fair, you’re usually fine with touching yourself. But right now, you need to be touched by him.

“I can hear you clomping around out there.”

You stop in your tracks, grimacing. You hear Kento sigh before he says, “You can come in.”

You open the door a sliver and peek in to see Kento with his head propped up in one hand, the other poised over a pile of documents. Still working, as you thought. And a full hour past quitting time, which explains why his brow is pinched with annoyance.

“What do you need, sweetheart?” he asks, eyes locked on yours.

“I was, uh…lonely. Just wanted to see you,” you grin sheepishly, stepping into the room and closing the door behind you. He says nothing for a moment, just looks you over with those sharp, observant eyes. Those eyes that burn through you, pooling molten warmth in your gut. You fidget under the weight of his gaze and squeeze your thighs together, trying not to look as desperate as you feel.

“Hmm,” Kento murmurs, sitting back in his chair with a wry smile. “Lonely isn’t the word I would use.”

You stiffen, crossing your arms over your chest. He’s right, but hey. “Well, what word would you use then?” you huff, bottom lip poked out in a pout. He smirks.

“Needy.”

You splutter for a moment, caught. You try to explain it away, tripping over your words, while Kento observes you with an amused smile.

“Relax, sweetheart,” he interrupts you once he’s had his fill of your stammering, eyes glittering with mirth. He pats his thighs, his slacks stretched deliciously taut over the thick muscle. “Come here.”

Your heart swells, embarrassment forgotten. You rush over with the intent of clambering into his lap. He stops you for a moment, holding you at arm’s length as he smooths your hair out of your face. You’re so pent up that even that innocent action makes you want to whimper. But his smile has tempered back to a serious expression, so you bite back your desperation and try to show him you’re listening.

“I need to get these papers sorted tonight,” he says. You frown, and he sighs. “I know, I don’t want to do them either, but they need to get done. It shouldn’t take long. If you can be good and occupy yourself until I’m finished, then…”

He trails off for a moment, grazing his thumb over your bottom lip. Your nerves buzz at the short, tender contact. “Then I’ll take care of you. Understood?”

Heat unfurls at the base of your stomach. “Understood,” you salute, overeager. He chuckles.

Kento leans back to make room for you. You settle yourself in his lap, facing him, hooking your legs over his hips and pressing yourself to his broad, warm chest. He’s so tall, it’s easy enough for him to hook his head over your shoulder and keep working. You press your face into his shoulder and breathe in the fresh, familiar scent of his aftershave. You should feel calm, content, like you often do when he holds you like this. Instead you just feel even more hot and bothered, and you can’t help but want to fidget and find some friction against him.

Kento said to be good. But he also said you could occupy yourself. And then he let you climb onto his lap. So, really, hasn’t he given you permission to occupy yourself… using his lap?

A little rub wouldn’t hurt, you reason. It might help ease the sharp burn of desire between your legs—reduce the tension that has you all strung out. He already knows that you’re all worked up. You’re just taking care of yourself until he can do it for you. Yeah, you think, a little rubbing would be fine.

You shuffle your hips against him experimentally, holding your breath for a reaction. Kento does shut down your bratty antics from time to time. But he doesn’t stir, doesn’t chide you, just keeps scratching away at whatever documents he’s tending to. You shift your hips down again, more deliberately—it can’t be mistaken for repositioning. Still, he says nothing. So you shift forward again, and this time you fully grind down with the pressure you need. The friction is delicious, and a little moan bubbles up from your throat.

You feel Kento’s hand come up to grasp the back of your neck, his thumb rubbing against the sensitive spot under your ear. You freeze, a pleasant shiver running through you. He hasn’t scolded you, but his gentle grip on your neck makes you feel like he wants you to ask.

“Kento,” you mumble into his shoulder, “…Is this okay?”

“Is what okay, my love?” he replies, seemingly indifferent—as if his warm hand isn’t smoothing down the length of your back before stopping to grasp at the soft flesh of your hip. You let out a shaky breath as you shudder.

“…R-Rubbing myself on you? While I wait,” you say in a soft rush of air. You press your face into his neck, cheeks prickling with warmth.

Kento lets out a slow, measured exhale and squeezes your hip. He chuckles, the sound low and rumbling and so obviously pleased.

“Do as you like, sweetheart.”

You hear him pick up his pen again, but his non dominant hand keeps a firm grip on your hip. You feel his promise to take care of you seared into you with each pad of his fingers.

You start grinding down on him again, building a rhythm. It feels so good— the pressure and friction and warmth of him against you, even through layers of fabric. You feel him start to harden beneath you, and you smile to yourself. Even if his mind is occupied with silly paperwork, Kento’s body belongs to you and only you.

A wicked little idea starts to take form in your mind.

You let soft, deliberate sounds of pleasure spill from your lips as you grind into Kento’s steadily growing erection. You pant as you rock against him, fanning warm breath across his neck with each exhale, your lips just barely brushing his skin. You relish in how your usually unflappable lover stiffens, your soft lips and sweet little sounds curling a shudder down his spine. You don’t push it too far—you agreed to be good after all. But you dance up to the line, feeling equal parts giddy and greedy.

Emboldened by Kento’s small reactions, you slowly swirl your hips the way you know he loves, and you let out a breathy sigh of his name. You feel the muscles of his neck tense, and he clears his throat. You think he might finally chide you, but he doesn’t. Wordlessly, he reaches between you to readjust his cock so it isn’t pinned to the side as it strains against his slacks. He aligns it vertically, his flushed tip peeking out from his waistband. You grin widely, having won your prize. You’re not the only one who’s needy now.

You press down against him, rutting your clothed cunt against the underside of his cock. His breath hitches as the soft material of your shorts catches against his sensitive tip, and you know soon it’ll be smeared with precum. You rock against him with a fervor now, trying to shift your hips at a better angle each time, pitching your pelvis forward to try and catch more of your clit on each down and upward motion. Trying to get more of that delicious friction that’s pooling wetness in your panties. But even as you pant softly into his shoulder and work yourself against him, you know it won’t be enough.

It’s all Kento’s fault. Before you met him, an orgasm was a simple delight that your own fingers could give you with ease. But now your body knows him. It knows how he feels pressed deep into you, snug against your cervix, filling you up completely. It knows the true depths of pleasure that you’re capable of feeling only when he’s inside you. Even if he hasn’t left any lasting marks, Kento has engraved himself into your body.

You need him to fill you. And right now, you’re warm and wet, but so empty.

You whimper, rocking yourself faster, more desperately. It feels good—really good—but the more you try to chase that goodness to an orgasm, the quicker it seems to slip away. You’re riding a wave that refuses to crest and crash down—it just undulates over and over. You screw your eyes shut, trying to focus on that small flame inside you, trying to get it to burn just a little bit brighter.

Then all of a sudden, Kento’s other hand is sinking into your hip and he’s griiinding up into you with so much pressure that you gasp.

“Not enough, is it?” Kento says, his voice husky and strained.

You let out a sound halfway between a whimper and a sigh of relief. “Not enough. I need you,” you pant, your hips still bucking against his—chasing the heat of his reciprocating friction.

Without warning, Kento stands up, and you squeal as you lose balance on his lap. You lock your legs around his waist and throw your arms around his shoulders to avoid falling. He uses one arm to hold you up, and with the other hand he neatly gathers and tucks his documents into a drawer. With a soft grunt, he sits you down on his cleared desk.

You start to release your koala-like hold on him, only for him to pull you into a searing kiss that has you scrabbling at the nape of his neck for purchase. His tongue licks into your mouth with a force and precision that makes you moan. You kiss him back in earnest, your legs still locked around his waist, drawing him in as close as you can.

You both part, panting. Kento caresses your cheek with his thumb as he looks at you with those dark, lust-glazed eyes that say without words that he intends to devour you. Then he places a hand in the center of your chest and gently pushes you down on your back. You stare up at the light fixture, dizzied, as he lifts your legs from around his waist and scoots you further back onto the desk.

You gasp when you feel him lift your hips and remove your shorts and panties in a single, sharp tug. You’re bare to him now—the cool air making your wet folds feel icy cold. But only for a moment. Because then he presses that searing hot tongue to your core and oh. You can’t help but arch up into the sensation as the flat of his tongue slides through your folds, lapping up the mess you’ve made while waiting for him.

“Sweetheart.” You feel the affectionate name rumble against your sensitive folds. “You’re dripping. All this for me?”

“Y-yes—fuck, Kento,” you whimper as he dives in again, working his tongue into your sopping entrance before slowly licking back up to your clit. “I couldn’t wait—I need you, Kento, please—“

You’re cut off by your own moan as he seals his lips around your clit and sucks. Your hips lift off the desk to meet the hot, wet suction as best you can. He lets you press yourself into his mouth, sucking hungrily at the sensitive nub until your thighs are trembling. Then he releases your clit with a wet sound, and he works back into your soaking folds to taste you again, groaning softly as he slurps and swallows down your arousal.

That small flame you were chasing while grinding against him is now building into an all-consuming fire. You can feel the pulse of it deep in you as the sensation mounts, stronger and hotter. The pleasure Kento gives you is so intense and sudden after hours of restraining yourself, you feel your body starting to run away with the feeling—a freight train gaining speed, out of your control. You’re going to come if he doesn’t stop, and this isn’t how you want it, even as good as it is.

“Kento, gonna come,” you gasp out, clawing at the smooth surface of his desk. “Don’ wanna come—stop, stop, I don’t want to come yet—“

Kento lifts his mouth from you the moment you say stop, but he doesnt remove his face from between your legs. He peers up at you from there with those sharp eyes, half-lidded and dark. The visual alone could send you over the edge if you weren’t desperately trying to stave off your own orgasm.

“And why don’t you want to come yet?” he asks with suspicion—seemingly resentful that you pulled him away from such a delicious meal.

You swallow, trying to catch your breath. You know what you want, and embarrassment aside, you’re determined to have it.

“Wanna come on your cock,” you say softly.

It’s not just dirty talk, or a move to play up his ego. You need it. You’ve needed it all day—to come undone with him splitting you open, filling every inch of you.

The moment you make your request, Kento’s expression shifts, and for a second, your desperate desire is mirrored on his face. Then in a quick succession of motions, he’s standing up, undoing his belt, pulling his cock out of his pants, and yanking your hips towards him with such sharpness that you yelp.

“You’re so good, you know that?” he murmurs as he leans over you, one hand aligning his cock with your entrance. He cups your face, tilting it so you look into his eyes as he presses the blunt head against your opening. You whimper at the beginning of the stretch.

“So fucking good for me. So perfect,” he rasps, his eyes burning. “Asking for what you want like a good girl. You want to come on my cock? Then go ahead and come, sweetheart.”

He slams into you in one precise thrust that has you squealing at the sudden, blinding-hot stretch of it—the press of it into the deepest parts of you all at once. Even if you’ve had it a thousand times before, the way he fills you still hits you like a boulder. He thrusts once, twice, three times, each devastatingly deep, and you’re gasping for air as if he’s fucked all the breath out of you.

This. This is exactly what you needed. To be taken apart by him in the way only he can. You can’t contain the blaze that’s been built by your dry humping, and the wet heat of his tongue, and him, just him—the man that drives you wild just by sitting there and doing paperwork. Kento holds your gaze as he fucks into you, looking at you like you’re a treasure, like he wants to eat you alive, so utterly devoted that it makes your heart swell, and it’s too much. It’s all too much, in the very best way.

Everything locks down and the heat explodes. You cry out his name when you come, your body shuddering and writhing with the force of it. Kento stills his hips and lets you pulse and clench around him as it works, and you swear you only ever want to come with him inside of you—the fullness radiating pleasure into the deepest parts of you.

When you finally come down from your high, you’re still trembling, and Kento is smoothing your hair out of your face as he studies you. His expression is soft but dark in an indecipherable way.

When your lucid eyes find his, he asks, “Did that feel good, sweetheart?”

You nod weakly, and you feel his cock jump a little inside you. He smiles softly, tracing his thumb over the apple of your cheek.

“Mm, that’s good, love. Now give me another.”

Before you can process it, before you can open your mouth to protest, he’s drawing out of you and plunging back in with full force, and you scream.

Your brain and body are already fried from your first orgasm, haven’t had time to recalibrate—and he wants another. And he seems determined to take it from you.

Kento sets an unforgiving rhythm, pounding into you with deep precision, bottoming out every time he rolls his hips into yours. Every drag of his girth against your walls feels like it sprays off sparks of electricity, and you can’t help but try to curl back from him, trying to escape the intensity of the feeling. Your recoiling is met with a firm grip on your neck—not enough to truly choke you, but enough to keep you from scrambling away.

“No running,” he says in a warning tone, snapping his hips forward with each deep thrust, never slowing his pace.

“‘s too much,” you slur out. You’re trying not to run, you’re trying your best to take it, but it’s so hard when every stroke feels so white hot.

“You can take it, sweetheart. Give me another, I know you can,” Kento coos—and you want to. There’s nothing you want more than to give Kento whatever he asks for, especially when he’s sweating and flushed and looking so in love as he thrusts into you.

“I’m trying, ‘m tryin’” you whine, hot tears starting to prickle in your eyes at the overstimulation.

“It’s okay, love, just let go. Let go and give me another,” Kento says, more softly now, moving his hand from your neck to cradle the side of your head. He presses a kiss to your forehead as he works deep in you. “You know what to say if you want me to stop.”

You shake your head, bottom lip trembling as the tears spill down your cheeks. “I wan’ to, I want to—but I can’t.”

“You can, and you will. You’re going to right now, love, I can feel it,” he says lowly, and oh. Oh. Oh fuck. He’s right.

Your body’s feedback to your brain must be delayed, because you don’t even feel your peak building until it’s suddenly there—looming over you, drawing your whole body up taut before crashing down like a tsunami. Your second orgasm blazes through you in an instant, and you let out a strangled cry as it takes you by surprise.

“Good girl, there it is,” Kento soothes as you writhe and sob through it. He finally slows his pace as you shudder and whimper and grab at his shirt to keep yourself grounded—trying to keep yourself from completely falling apart.

You lose focus of his face for a moment—your eyes must roll back, because you hear him say “Eyes on me, love” in that low, smooth voice of his. With some effort, Kento swims back into your vision—his expression a portrait of lust and reverence. If you weren’t in the throes of such miserable pleasure, you might notice how his hands are starting to shake, how his jaw is clenched, how his hips stutter as he slowly, slowly strokes in and out of you now—on the edge of losing control.

You gradually come down from your peak until you’re back on solid ground. You blink up at Kento, dazed, your head resting heavy against the hard wood of his desk. You devour the sight of him above you. He’s panting softly, a few strands loose from his usual slicked-back hair and now hanging into his eyes. His tie is loose and his dress shirt is rumpled from where you gripped it. An unkempt, sex-mussed Kento—the sight makes you throb, and you wonder how your body can still respond to him after coming twice.

At least his hips are still now, which is a small mercy for your blindingly sensitive cunt. You gaze up at him, eyes soft, as he wipes the tears from your cheeks with the pad of his thumb. You turn your head to catch his thumb in your mouth and suck it, and he lets out a low groan.

“Don’t do that unless you’re ready to give me one more, sweet girl,” he warns.

You promptly release the digit, which makes him laugh. He presses his thumb back between your lips and watches lovingly as you lave over it with your tongue then release it with a final, wet kiss. He can’t help but shudder a little, and you notice.

“Are you close?” you ask softly, and he nods.

“Don’t know if I can hold back. I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmurs, looking a little pained. You can see now the visible signs of his restraint, and it warms your heart that he’s worried about you. Even when he takes you beyond your limits, he’d never push you to the point of breaking.

“I don’t know if my pussy can take any more right now,” you admit, your thighs still trembling. “…But if you want, you can fuck my mouth,” you grin, your mouth watering at the thought.

Kento’s eyes widen, then darken, and a soft groan slips from his lips as he surges forward to kiss you.

“You dirty little thing,” he murmurs, nipping at your bottom lip before soothing over it with his tongue. “So good for me. Get on your knees.”

You scramble to comply, and Kento helps lever you up and off the desk so you can kneel at his feet. He grabs a cushion from his chair and leans down to slip it under your knees, pressing a soft kiss to your temple as he draws back to his full height. Your heart brims with affection at the simple sweetness of the action.

You look up at him with wide, adoring eyes, and press soft kisses to his thigh that make him shudder. His cock is hard and heavy between his legs, flushed and shining with your own wetness. You grab the base, testing the girth in your hands, and Kento lets out a soft, strangled sound.

“You really are close, huh?” you giggle, licking a stripe from base to tip, tasting yourself on his hot flesh.

He grits out a moan, squeezing his eyes shut as you take his swollen tip between your lips. You suck on him gently, circling your tongue around the head, and you feel him throb on your tongue in response. Kento’s hand finds its place in your hair, gripping firmly as he slowly rocks into your mouth. You open your jaw further and meet his shallow thrusts with eager bobs of your head, sucking greedily around him.

You love taking Kento in your mouth, if for no other reason than to drink in his reactions. The soft grunts and pants and groans you pull from him make you preen. You watch him through your eyelashes—the way his brow is knitted, his jaw slack and bottom lip trembling with restrained pleasure. You do your best to burn the image into your mind. Though there is one part of this gorgeous vision that could be improved. You pull off his cock with a wet sound and rest his throbbing shaft on your cheek as you squeeze the base with one hand.

“Eyes on me, Ken,” you grin, parroting his earlier words. The irony isn’t lost on Kento, who lets out a sound between a scoff and a chuckle. He dutifully opens his eyes and peeks down at you, his pupils blown wide with lust. When his eyes meet yours, he groans and turns his head away, his cock twitching against your cheek.

“I really won’t last if I look at you, sweetheart,” he says, his voice breaking with the effort to restrain himself.

“I don’t care if you last. I want to taste you already,” you grin. He huffs out a shaky breath as you rub his tip against your slick, swollen lips. “Fuck my mouth, Kento. I want you to come down my throat,” you urge him, your eyes burning into his.

His breath hitches, and you feel his hand tighten its grip in your hair. “…I can’t be gentle,” he warns you, eyes flaring and voice tight.

“Then don’t be,” you hum, smiling before kissing the tip of his cock. Kento’s hips twitch, and he groans.

“Fuck. I am going to ruin you,” he murmurs, cupping your jaw and rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip. “If you can’t take it, slap my leg. If you don’t, I won’t stop.”

A thrill runs through you, and you feel your pulse throb through your cunt. You nod, dizzied and giddy with the promise of Kento using your throat.

You slacken your jaw and place his tip on your tongue, then look up at him with expectant eyes—waiting for him to set the pace. He hisses a breath out through his teeth as he readjusts his grip in your hair—then he plunges his cock into the waiting heat of your throat.

You gag at the intrusion, but you do your best to open your throat, even as your body jerks as you choke around him. He sets an unforgiving pace, stuffing his cock down your tight, wet throat as you try diligently to take him—fresh tears burning in your eyes from the effort.

He moans as you take everything he gives you, his gaze fixed on the way your lips stretch around him—a slick mess of spit and precum clinging to his shaft and dripping down your chin as he fucks into your mouth. Tears are streaming down your cheeks now, but you don’t tap out—you just dig your fingers into Kento’s thighs, deliriously happy to choke around him if it’s for his pleasure.

“Fuck—sweetheart, you’re so fucking perfect—taking me so well, choking on me—gonna make me f-fucking come—“

Mindless praise spills from Kento’s lips like a prayer as he rocks into the wet heat of your mouth, his pleasure threatening to surge up and over the edge. You can sense how close he is now, and the thrill of it has your aching cunt throbbing again. Kento watches in amazement as you slither your hand between your thighs, rubbing haphazard circles around your clit as you gag on his cock.

You force your eyes open, tears clinging to your lashes as you look up at Kento, desperately wanting to see how he looks right now, so close to coming. You expect him to have his eyes squeezed shut with impending bliss, but you find he’s staring at you, mouth agape, gaze reverent and drunk from pleasure. And the moment your glassy, tear-filled eyes lock with his, he’s gone.

Kento comes with a choked sound, snapping a final deep thrust into your throat before stilling as his hot cum spurts down your throat.

You do your best to swallow it, but you can’t take it all. You pull off with a wet gasp, coughing and spluttering as you try not to choke on the cum coating your mouth and throat. Kento shudders through the aftershocks of his orgasm, transfixed by the sight of you gasping for air, thick strings of saliva and cum running down your chin and connecting your mouth to his cock. That heady mixture of spit and cum drips and splatters on your shirt, your thighs, the floor, as you cough and catch your breath.

Mind still hazy with pleasure, Kento fumbles around to help you. He digs through his drawers and finds a handkerchief. He kneels down, cups your jaw, and begins to wipe your wet mouth and chin. He cleans your face gently, dazed and murmuring praises—before you cut him off with a whine.

“‘M sorry, Kento,” you whimper, looking genuinely disappointed.

“For what, love? You were perfect,” he soothes, confusion knitting his brow. You meet his gaze with a frown.

“I wasted your cum. I really wanted to drink it,” you say glumly, staring at the mess of cum staining your shirt and your thighs.

A beat passes as Kento stares at you with amazement, then he huffs out an incredulous laugh. He pulls you to his chest, shaking with mirth, as he smooths a hand down your back. You melt into him, and he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“Oh, sweetheart, that’s alright. There’s more where that came from.”

You feel his wet, spent cock stir against your thigh.

———

a/n: the first time i had multiple orgasms i thought i was gonna die. idk how you guys are surviving 3+ back to back 😭 anyways I’ve looked at this way too long—please take it away from me 💀

#nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami smut #nanami kento #jjk smut #jjk fanfic #idk how i feel about this but I’m posting it anyways LMAO #jinnie fic #OKAY HAITCH IM TAGGING IT #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x you #nanami x y/n #kento nanami smut #nanami kento smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #kento nanami x y/n #nanami

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churipu · 2 months

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BEAUTIFUL FEATURES 𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧

ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. gojo satoru, nanami kento, fushiguro megumi

ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. cursing on gojo :)

note. while i'm working on chapter 5 of my killswitch lullaby series, i'm gonna upload something because i just got home from a get together with my big family, and part 5 of killswitch lullaby is still halfway done :(

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

"you have freckles."

averting your eyes to gojo through the mirror in the bathroom, you nodded, "mhm, they've always been there," it's not like you've made them noticeable — so the reaction was expected, you never really liked them.

"why did i just notice them?" he asks, leaning his shoulder onto the doorway, "i mean — they look really pretty y/n."

pretty didn't sit well with you, especially not when you grow up hating that certain feature. chuckling out softly, you raised a brow, "they're not pretty, they're weird, 'toru."

the male blinks, "who said that?"

"everyone else but you—" he scoffs, throwing his face to the side with a lop-sided smirk, "what? why are you laughing?"

gojo shakes his head in denial, "fuck what they think — i think they're pretty, and they suit you. why would you hide it?" the blue eyed male watches your every move as your fingers pressed on the skin colored cushion onto your skin, sealing away the beautiful dots gracing across your cheeks.

"because i feel better without them." you nonchalantly answered, patting the cushion a few times to flatten the foundation. your freckles immediately drowned under it, disappearing from sight.

gojo was silent, his face was indescribable — and you don't know what he had in mind next. frankly, he's a little angry. not at you, anyone but you. the male then stepped towards you, throwing an arm around your waist, "can i ruin your make up just the slightest bit . . ?"

"yes, but 'm not going to talk to you for the rest of the day . . . or two."

the blue eyed male chuckled, but he wasted no time wrapping his slender fingers around your wrist, peppering gentle kisses across your cheeks, right over the semi-wet foundation — leaving traces of his lips on your face. gojo didn't even care about the sticky substance graved on his lips.

pulling back, he seemed satisfied at his work of art. your make up ruined almost completely as your foundation was smeared away, the smooth layer now barely even there at all, and all was left was trails of his kisses over your sun kissed freckles.

"you're so beautiful, i'd kiss you right now — but i wouldn't want to get foundation in your mouth," he whispers, instead of leaning into your lips, he pressed his foundation laced lips along your forehead, engraving his lips on your skin.

"you're so cheesy—"

"way to ruin the moment, y/n. really great! you're lucky i love you," he grazed his thumb over his art, wiping away your foundation, "i love you and everything about you."

smiling lightly, you nod, "i love you too."

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

nanami traced his finger on your skin behind your ear, the tip of his finger grazing over the same spot again and again. his eyebrows furrowed the slightest bit, "what happened here?"

you glanced at him, "hm? what happened where?" the male didn't answer, but his finger traced your skin — specifically, where your birth mark laid. and he blinked slowly, "oh, i forgot about that. nothing happened there, 'ts my birth mark."

the male nods his head. his eyes never leaving the darker spot behind your ear, "i never knew you had one . . ." he mumbles out, a little upset he's never noticed such a beautiful feature on you through out the time he has been with you.

"i didn't want you to," you replied back.

nanami retracted his hand back, "are there any reasons why?"

craning your neck to face him, your e/c eyes averted around the room. anywhere but right at his eyes, "um . . . i don't think that my birth mark is an important feature, you know where i'm coming from?"

nanami in fact didn't, "unfortunately, not."

"i just don't think it's nice to look at," you tell him the truth, chuckling, "but i actually forgot that i had that behind my ear for a bit."

once again, his fingers flew to trace your birth mark, admiring it silently. strands of your hair gets tangled in between his fingers at the action, but the male wasn't pulling on it, "it's beautiful. you're beautiful."

"think so?" you asked.

nanami didn't answer you, but his hand cupped your face gently, pulling you close and before you knew it, his lips were on yours. it was a short kiss, but it was full of admiration and love, "i do. i mean it," he states out, gazing into your eyes.

"i love you, ken. you know that, right?"

"i love you more, y/n. you know that, right?"

𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

you'd think that your boyfriend wouldn't notice the way you strain back your smile from engulfing your face? frankly, thinking megumi wouldn't notice was something stupid — megumi notices everything, especially things about you. his partner.

"why do you do that?" he questions, leaning back onto the wall.

raising a brow at him in confusion, you replied back, "do what?"

"straining back your smile — why don't you just . . . smile?" his voice was quiet, but there was something behind it. not anger, not disappointment; megumi was just confused, was it something that he should be concerned about?

even if it wasn't, he is already concerned.

his question left your mind a little hazed, wondering if you should tell him the truth or just lie your way out of this. but (thankfully), you ended up with the first choice, "i didn't want to deepen my smile lines, they look weird."

now it was megumi's mind swirling with different questions, "smile lines? why— what? what?" he mutters under his breath — mind a little disintegrated.

"it leaves a mark behind, i don't like it—"

"you look fine." he cuts you off, "you have a nice smile, don't hold it back."

coming from someone like megumi, you thought it might have been the greatest compliment you have ever gotten the whole entire year. the first genuine smile popped out on your face after a bit, the apple of your cheeks rounding as you beam out at the male in delight, "really? you mean that?"

megumi sighs, nodding, "really."

"that means a lot to me, gumi. thank you," the male blinked — he wasn't sure what had gotten you so happy, surely it wasn't his compliment, is it?

it is, "yeah."

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #fluff #gojo satoru #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #nanami kento #nanami fluff #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fluff #megumi x reader

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whateveriwant · 6 months

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The 141 in a reverse harem

18+ content, GN!Reader, Reader is the ruler of an ancient kingdom

Soap

The moment you step into their communal quarters, Soap is always the first one to greet you, almost Iike he was sitting right beside the door

But nooooo, don't be silly. Of course he's not been impatiently waiting since your last visit. Though, you were 28 and ¾ minutes later than normal, not that he's been counting or anything

As you walk around their dwelling deciding on who to take back to your chambers for the night, he's following closely behind like a little horny whiny puppy

More than once, he's accidentally stepped on your robes because of just how close he likes to trail after you

Oh, but he's so terribly sorry! Here, let him make it up to you! Please, please let him make it up to you!

Because he tries to hog the limited time you spend with the men, it's earned him more than a few elbows to the ribs from his biggest “rival” in the group: Gaz. And speaking of which…

Gaz

Always trailing a little less desperately closely behind is the newest member of the harem: Gaz

Though he may be the youngest of the four, that doesn't mean he's any less experienced in these types of matters (and the young ones are always the most eager to please, aren't they)

Have you had a good day, darling? He knows you're very busy running a kingdom and all, so he for one is grateful you've taken time out of your hectic schedule to visit them

Oh, but your shoulders look so tense, darling! He can rub them for you if you'd like

And your poor feet! Those sandals of yours look awfully uncomfortable. Why doesn't he head back with you so he can show your full body the love it deserves

While he and Soap can't help but bicker when it comes to vying for your attention, on the rare occasion, the two have been able to put aside their differences and work together, if you know what I mean

Price

Unlike the two younger men, Price feels no need to fight for your time

No, he knows you'll eventually make your way over to him, swaying your hips in that way that makes him salivate like a dog

As the oldest and the longest resident of the group, he's become somewhat of a right hand of yours; almost like a concubine turned consultant, if you will

While of course he loves nothing more than to get down to the nitty gritty with you, these talks of yours are truly the highlight of his day even when they're entirely polite in nature

Why yes, he has done something different with his beard, thank you for noticing. He got some new oils from the market yesterday. Do you like it? Isn't it soft? Just wait until you feel it between your thighs

No matter who you're taking to your bed for the evening, Price always escorts you to the door of their quarters, leaving you with a kiss to the hand goodbye. Until next time, starlight

Ghost

Last but certainly not least is the man you have the most… interesting dynamic with, to put it one way

It's funny, really. He likes to pretend the sweet taste of you doesn't haunt his every waking moment, and you like to pretend that there was anyone else on your mind the second you walked through the door

But oh, he sees that you've arrived yet again... Well, this book of his is super interesting, so he's just going to sit in the corner and read, and absolutely not watch you out of the corner of his eye

What was that? No, he's not holding it in his lap for any reason. And no, his pant legs aren't shorter than normal. Why would you think that?

Oh, but the moment you hold your hand out for him, he has to stop himself from immediately tossing the dumb book aside and hauling you over his shoulder like some sort of rabid beast

Instead, he takes his time standing from his seat, almost indifferent as he takes your hand and lets you lead him back to your chambers

It's all a farce though, of course. Nothing makes his pride swell more than having you scream his name for the whole palace to hear, echoing all the way back to where the three other men are left to sit and mope

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angelltheninth · 6 months

Note

Hi! I really like your writing for JJK! I was wondering if you could do, JJK men with a s/O with a heavy breeding kink? Thank you!

Why are you inside my head right now? Or do we have the same horny thoughts?

Pairing: Yuuji, Sukuna, Megumi, Gojo, Nanami, Geto, Toji, Choso x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, breeding kink, mating press, creampie, rough sex, pregnancy mention, cum marking, cumdrunk!Reader

A/N: My thoughts are almost always horny so chance is that we'll agree on something at some given moment.

Yuuji is happy that you want his cum so much but no matter what he always has a pack of condoms with him. You can never be too safe you know. And when you're riding his cock as much as you are, saying how you want him to breed you, how much you love his cum inside yo, him having a condom on is the only thing that can prevent pregnancy because he does not have the strength to pull out.

Sukuna has a breeding kink too, even more than you. You think he's gonna stop when he's knocked you up once? No, you've already shown how much you want it, he finishes inside you and you don't even let him pull out, you're holding on because you know for a fact that he has more cum to give, another baby to make with you. You can't wait to be impregnanted by the King of curses again.

Megumi is only really rough and messy with you when you your breeding kink comes out to play. He knows you'll do anything to be covered with his cum when you're in that state. You'll suck him off just to have it on your face, you'll let his cock slip out just to have it on your ass and back, you'll press against him and mumble as best as you still can about how warm it feels to be bathed in his seed.

Gojo wants at least a few kids with you. He's overjoyed when you start talking about it during sex and is a little disappointed when he finds out it was just a kink thing. Not to worry he will still unload as many cumshots into your womb as you want but one day he hopes that it won't be just dirty talk and that he will get to see mini versions of the two of you running around.

Nanami starts out wearing a condom but once he hears about how much you want to feel his cum in your pussy he decides to take it off. There are other ways to prevent a pregnancy if you're not just horny talking to him. If you really do want to be pregnant then there are a few other things he needs to prepare first so the breeding he gives you tonight won't be the one that actually impregnates you.

Geto is into it too, very much into it and encourages your breeding kink whenever and however he can. He talks very casually about how beautiful you'd look like if you were pregnant, how he would still bury his cock in you no matter what and fuck you until you couldn't stand. If it became too much for your pussy then he would fuck your throat until you couldn't speak. There is always a hole for him to breed.

Toji already has you folded in a mating press by the time you start begging for his seed inside of you, for him to breed you because you're currently at most fertile time of the month and his seed will surely take. Say no more. He will give you as many creampies as you want, it will be his pleasure, and yours too it seems. When he's done and carries you to bed you'll leave a white trail of cum behind you.

Choso likes the idea of being a dad some day but not yet. So whenever you ask him to breed you he hesitates, he pulls out and shoos his load on your body instead. It makes you sad to see his seed go to waste like that so you ask him to finger just a bit of it inside of you, after that you can take a pill right away, you just want to feel a little bit of it inside of you. Lucky you he loves you so much.

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lovedazai · 5 months

Text

PLAYING WITH THEIR HAIR

ft. dazai, chuuya, fyodor, sigma, tecchou

p.s.! ₊˚. inspired by this post on my old blog !! blowing u a kiss if u remember it, mwah <3 !!

DAZAI — dazai doesn’t know if he should let himself get used to this.

with freshly changed bandages and a full stomach, he lays his head on your lap, blissed out sighs falling from his lips as your fingers rub his scalp just right, gently tugging the knots out of his hair. he can’t remember the last time someone has made him feel so taken care of.

your nails drag across his temple, tucking his bangs behind his ear. he barely manages to suppress the shiver that makes its way up his spine when you trail your fingers down, tracing along his jawline.

he only opens his eyes when you lean down and kiss his nose, and he swears his heart stops; nobody has ever looked at him so softly before. he wants to spill his heart out, tell you how he’s certain you’re the reason he’s still alive.

he pulls the back of your head down to press a kiss onto your mouth instead, smiling against your lips when you huff. he whines when you pull away far too soon, raising himself on his elbows to follow you.

“you're supposed to be relaxing,” it’s always so hard to feel scolded by youーyou’re just too cute when you’re grumpyーbut it’s especially difficult now, when your smile is so sweet, and the tip of your nose brushes against his from how close you are.

he barely whispers "i am, i swear,” before his lips are on yours again, unable to hold in all of the love he feels; it bubbles up in his chest as he guides your hands back to his head.

the feeling of your mouth on his and your hands brushing through his hair is almost overwhelming, igniting something warm and tingly beneath his skin. he whines when you tug on his locks, soothing it away as your thumb traces the curve of his ear. he parts his lips enough for your tongue to trace inside, but you pull away all too soon again.

your nails trace along his scalp so gently, and you’re looking at him so lovingly, he doesn’t know what else to do besides pull you closer. he needs more.

his heart pounds against his ribcage, racing without his permission; he doesn’t think he can make it slow down, even if he tried.

CHUUYA — when chuuya comes out of the shower, it’s with a towel hanging low on his hips and the sweet scent of his expensive body scrub clinging to his skin.

you watch him sort through his drawer for a pair of underwear, the long section of his hair taunting you with the way it beads water, stray drops dribbling down his toned chest. his bangs fall limply over his nose, and your eyes follow his fingers as he brushes them back.

it doesn’t take long for him to catch your gaze on him, lips rising into a cocky smile as he looks at you over his shoulder.

“like what you see, baby?”

you nod, holding your grabby hands out from where you sit on the edge of his bed, waiting for him to join you. his smile only grows, and he pulls a pair of sweatpants up his waist before he settles in front of you.

the spot where your knees open is the perfect size for him to rest his head in your lap. you brush back all the stray pieces of his bangs, watching them flutter back against his forehead. his hair is like silk, smoothly gliding through the gaps of your fingers. you treat it like something fragile, even if chuuya was anything but.

"i'm starting to think you're only with me for my hair,” he tilts his head back to look at you, but you're quick to push it forward, shushing him. he pinches your thigh, but it doesn’t take long for his grumpy mumbles to fade away as your nails drag against his scalp.

you twirl the longer strands around your fingers, tangling and untangling them. you brush against the crown of his head, watching his shoulders sag. you wish he could have moments like this more often, always so busy protecting the city, protecting you.

you brush his hair to the side, placing a kiss on his neck as his baby hairs rise along his nape. when you peek at his face, his eyes are barely open, and soft, even breaths leave his parted lips.

“chuuya,” you brush your lips against his ear, and he lets out a little grunt in response. “do you want to go to sleep?"

“‘m awake, i swear,” he turns himself to rest his cheek on your thigh, pressing a kiss against the side of your knee. "keep goin’."

FYODOR — you had only come over to his desk out of curiosity, peeking over his shoulder to see what he was working on. before you even realize it, he’s talked you into keeping him company, and you end up in one of his extra chairs with your legs across his lap. the scent of earl grey fills the air from your half drank tea cups, a symphony of soft strings playing against the background of his quiet typing.

his ushanka is put aside, folded neatly on his desk. his bangs rest against his nose, stray pieces falling dangerously close to his pretty eyes. he hums his thanks as you tuck them behind his ear, touch lingering.

you run your fingers through the little pieces framing his face, tracing the way they curl inward towards his cheeks. your fingers catch on knots, and you frown. you don’t even notice that he’s looking at you from the corner of his eye as you comb through his hair, gently detangling it.

“you should take better care of yourself, fedya,” you whisper, twirling the smoothed strands around your finger.

“there’s no need,” he smiles. “you already do such a lovely job.”

it was rare for fyodor to let his emotions present themselves so physically, but in the safety of your gaze, he lets himself visibly relax. you brush your fingertips through his hair diligently, and each time your nails graze a certain spot on his scalp, his eyes fall closed, a little smile growing on his lips. he was just too cute, but you knew better than to tease; it was rare to see him so genuinely at peace. you wonder how many people had the chance to touch him so intimately, if at all.

“you’re quite the distraction today, dear,” he comments, leaning back in his chair, hand leaving his keyboard to settle on your thigh.

"am i?" you gather his bangs between your fingers, brushing them back so you can press your lips to his forehead. you let the dark locks slide through the gaps between your fingers, watching them flutter back down into place against his forehead.

just as your hand leaves his head, cold fingers wrap around your wrist, holding it in place.

"i didn't tell you to stop, did i?”

SIGMA ー when sigma first came into your room, it was with shaky hands and downturned lips, confidence visibly wavering in a way he only let show in front of you. you draw him into your lap, and he rests his head against your thighs with a deep exhale. you pull on his tie, loosening it as he scrunches his eyes shut, trying his best to relax.

“it’s okay,” you whisper. “i got you.”

you rub your thumb across his forehead, soothing his furrowed brows. he’s stiff in your hold, gripping his thighs through his pants, cheeks dusted pink.

you smooth your hand across his head, watching the way it makes his lips twitch. you brush through the purple side of his bangs, each choppy layer fluttering back down into place through your fingers.

you trace along the zig-zag of his part with just enough pressure to melt away the tension in his neck and make him unclench his jaw. both sides of his hair are separated perfectly, and you twirl them around your finger, watching the colors swirl together like soft serve ice cream.

when you look at his face again, he’s finally relaxed, with his pretty lips parted and his long, white lashes resting against his cheeks. you bend down and kiss him, smiling when his eyes open dazedly.

“have i ever told you how pretty you are?”

“yes,” he mumbles, fidgeting beneath your gaze. even quieter, he says, “but you’re the prettiest.”

his face scrunches up into a frown when you coo over him, pinching his cheek as he tries to swat your hand away. he catches it between his own, intertwining your fingers.

“can you…” he draws small hearts with his thumb on your skin. “…keep going?”

“only if you take the rest of the day off and spend it with me instead.”

he raises your hand to his lips, smiling against your knuckles. “consider it done.”

TECCHOU ー tecchou had sought you out as soon as he came home. he’d barely stripped off his uniform before he was crawling on top of you and snuggling his face into your chest, effectively pinning you to your bed. you smooth your hand down the lines of muscles along his back, tracing up and down the dip between his shoulder blades.

you trail your hand up his nape, burying your fingers into his hair. you comb through the mess, endlessly entertained at how it defiantly pops up in all directions no matter how many times you run your fingers through the strands or smooth them down beneath your palm. his expression is neutral as always, eyes closed, lashes resting against his rosy cheeks.

he’s been so still and quiet, you thought you’d lulled him to sleep, until you pulled your hand back and were immediately met with wide, expectant eyes.

you grab one of the longer strands, tickling his cheek with it.

“you stopped,” he says. “keep going, please.”

a giddy smile grows on your face, delighted he's enjoying this as much as you are. you gather his bangs through your fingers, running your nails against his scalp and gently pushing them back. his entire body is lax except for his hands, gripping your shirt, pressing you closer into his firm chest.

his eyes are heavy and lidded, finally falling shut when you scratch against his scalp a little firmer. his head tilts forward, but he straightens it each time, resisting sleep. you press a kiss against the little markings under his eye.

“why don’t you go to sleep?” you whisper, and his eyes crack open.

“but this feels so good,” he drops his cheek back to your chest. “i don’t want you to stop.”

“i won’t, i promise,” you seal it with a kiss against forehead. “your hair is so soft. i could do this forever.”

“okay,” you twirl a section of wayward strands around your finger, tugging gently, and he sighs a content, heavy exhale. “if you promise.”

BSD MASTERLIST

#💌 . . . with love mai ⊹ ࣪ ˖#bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #dazai x reader #chuuya x reader #fyodor x reader #sigma x reader #tecchou x reader #tetchou x reader #bsd fluff #bsd imagines #bsd x you #bsd scenarios #dazai fluff #chuuya fluff #fyodor fluff

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luveline · 6 months

Note

gorgeous can we get bombshell reader and Spencer May be the first time he’s snappy with her bc he’s stressed and she’s just so taken aback and May be even tears up? And then just a fluffy ending with Spencer apologizing

thank you for requesting! fem, 2.2k

Spencer Reid is extra kissable when he's frowning. Button up and no suit jacket, sleeves pushed past his elbows and hair on the shorter side, he holds a certain confidence in his hands where they're tucked in his pockets. Sure of himself, and clearly agitated.

You're always on his side; you don't think twice about easing into the conference room to see what's wrong.

"Hey," you say with a slight lilt to your tone. You're always on his side, and always flirting. "What's wrong?"

"Why does something have to be wrong?" he asks.

Not mean. Not light. Somewhere in the solid middle, his gaze loyal to the laptop on the desk he stands behind. You step close enough to smell the subtle scent of his cologne, wondering if he can smell your perfume in turn, and if it's one he likes. You try to touch his hand and he takes the desk into his grip instead, leaning forward, out of reach.

"That's not what I meant to convey," you say, still flirting. You're not stupid, you realise his mood, but you're hoping it's somebody else's fault. "But if you aren't happy to see me then I'd definitely suggest there was something wrong."

"I'm just trying to figure something out."

This close, to your own credit, Spencer usually trips up. He's been getting better as you've grown closer, your 'torturing' —as the team likes to call it— only prompting the occasional blush or stammer. You don't flirt with Spencer to torture him no matter what anyones says and you never have, you flirt with him because he deserves to be complimented. He's andsome, intelligent, and courageous. What others might miss you see in blaring neon lights: he's a catch. You intend on making your intentions known, and if that means playing the long game or the slow burn, that's okay. You like to dance.

You put yourself between him and the laptop screen. He can still see it if he cranes his neck, and he does. "You look a little tired, handsome. Looking at a screen all day will hurt you in the end. Neck aches, shoulder cramps, eye strain. Though I can't help with the latter, the former…" His arm is solid under your hand, your fingertips running along the ridge of a stark vein.

He doesn't quite flinch away, but he moves quickly enough to startle you, lamenting, "Could you give me some space, please?"

That's all well and good, you rush to do as he's asked and step back because the very last thing you want is to make him uncomfortable and his voice is frankly acidic, but everything is moving too quickly, you're not as aware as you should be —you smash your hand backwards into a cold cup of coffee and knock it straight into the lap of Spencer's laptop.

"No," you gasp, grabbing the cup before the entirety of it can empty. Coffee wells between the keys and you go to grab it to– well, to do something.

"Stop it!" Spencer shouts, voice sharp as a knife. "You always do this," —quieter, venomous— "you can't help yourself."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I would answer you if I had the time. I'll be busy rescuing my hard drive before an entire month of work is wasted thanks to your dire need for attention."

He slips around you and stalks out the door, coffee dripping from the corner of his laptop in a sorry trail that shines in the fluorescent lights.

Your first rush of tears are driven by indignation; it was an accident, you didn't mean to do that, why would you ever do that? But the second, more encompassing rush is a hot mixture of shame and guilt. What have you done?

You take a hesitant step toward the door but don't bother following him. I'll make things worse, you think, bringing a hand to your face. Makeup marrs your hand as you wipe your cheeks. You stare down at the stains for a long, long time.

I'll apologise, you think eventually, rubbing at the mascara like soot on your palm. Just as soon as I look okay again.

You don't want Spencer or anyone to see you upset. You wear your makeup and your confidence for yourself, not to hide any insecurity but to embolden yourself, to be yourself. But to get to your desk you'd have to leave the conference room bared as you are, and you'd have to face Spencer, and the second option brings more tears.

This is all so messy, and it's your fault.

I'm such an idiot. I'm exactly what he thinks of me.

You sit in the chair furthest from the door with a pack of tissues from the cubby and rub your hot cheeks dry, streaks of mascara in the shapes of your fingertips like soot left behind. It's sitting that gets you —the shock of tears at being shouted at by someone you care about amplifies into a distress you can't explain. It's stupid, it's stupid. You press your face into your hands and curl in on yourself at the table, ears ringing. I'm so, so stupid.

—

The inside of Spencer's lip is bleeding, metallic on his tongue. He's white hot annoyance all the way to Penelope's office, choked as he tells her he needs her help.

"Spencer?" she said. "What happened? Are you okay?"

He realises what he's done. "Please, Garcia, can you do something? I really need to go."

He doesn't hear her response beyond her surprised but emphatic Sure, spinning on his heel to walk back the way he came. He rubs at his temple, moving between a slow trudge and a speed walk as he assesses the damage of what he's said. What did he say? your dire need for attention.

Your sniffing is something out of his fucking nightmares. Who does he think he is? You're sitting exactly where he left you next to that half empty coffee cup, a tissue scrunched in your trembling hands, visible in the small glass window of the door. You must be thinking of what he's said to have missed the sound of his footsteps, or perhaps he's left you too upset to want to look up.

He sees the moment a sob works through you, watches you hold your breath in a painful effort to keep it down, raising the tissue to your eyes and catching your tears before they fall. You're doing a lacklustre job despite your efforts, the oily shine of mascara iridescent on your cheeks. Or maybe that's tear tracks. It's hard to tell.

Spencer fights with himself. He doesn't know if deserves to come running back or if it would be more fair to send JJ or Derek in to comfort you.

"You made your bed," his mom would say, not without affection. "You have to lie in it."

Spencer squeezes his eyes closed to push away the memory, surveying the damage he's done carefully as he crosses the threshold back into the conference room. Your head lifts at the sound of the door, your stammer visible before you speak, "Spence– Spencer. Is your laptop okay? Did I break it? I'm so sorry."

Gideon would tell Spencer to be nicer. Hotch would say Reid in that stern shade of voice that's half disapproval and half fondness. They'd both tell him to be better, but neither of them have ever had to see you as you look now, tearstained and sorry, eyes wide with worry but shoulders tense. He has his role models, and yet none of them could possibly give him a way to apologise that could ever make up for they way he's made you feel.

Little dramatic, Morgan would say. Start with a hug, loverboy. Can't go wrong with a hug.

He should ask but he doesn't, a second transgression against you. Spencer pushes past chair and the sodden circle of carpet to your chair, pausing in case you're going to tell him to shove it. You lick your lips. "Did I break it?" you ask, as though resigned for a yes

He can't temper that amount of self-hatred on you. It doesn't suit you. He much prefers you the way you like to be, confident in everything, flirty and funny and soft, in both touch and touches. He takes your face into a careful hand, tilting it toward the light and weary of your shallow exhale. "I…" He begins and ends, stroking your tacky cheek with his index finger, as though brushing away an eyelash. If it were real he'd say make a wish, and you would wish for him or some similar sweetness, salacious smile to boot, or earnestness fit to fill a mountain. I wish you'd realise how pretty you are and stop denying me the pleasure of a beautiful boyfriend, you'd croon.

His fingers collect at your jaw and slip behind your ear as he cleans your skin with the side of his thumb. You lean into the touch, slashing his hesitancy in two.

"Sorry," he says, pulling your head toward his neck gently as he leans down to hold you. "I'm sorry. Don't be upset, please. Don't be upset "

"I'm an idiot–"

"No," he says, with the facts to back his denial. "I'm an idiot, I should never have upset you like this–"

"I broke your computer, it's just like you said–"

"I shouldn't have–"

"–I'm so needy I could've ruined all your hard work," you say, wriggling with guilt like you attempt to pull away.

Spencer really doesn't want to let you go now he has you, not until he's sure you'll stay in one piece. "If it's ruined, it's my fault for failing to back it up."

He should tell you that he's sorry for what he said. He knew it wasn't right he moment it escaped him, to speak to you like that, and accuse you of what he did. He basically called you selfish, uncaring. He implied it and worse, and for what? An accident? A mis-step that he practically forced you into?

"I never should've said that to you," he says, breaking his hug to crouch in front front you, searching blindly for your hand as he holds eye contact, looking up. You deign to frown down. "And I walked away. And you're crying," —his voice fries with sympathy— "because of me."

Your hand is limp in his. "I'm sorry," he says.

"It's okay." You sniffle and nod, lips struggling into a smile.

"It's not okay."

"Well, I hit your coffee over, so we're even."

"You accidentally spilled my drink, you didn't deserve to be mocked."

"Spence…" Your eyes half-lidded, you wince down at the cradle of his hand where it holds yours. "Did I break it?"

"I don't know. I got to Garcia's office and I knew I did the wrong thing, so I came back."

You swallow audibly. "I just wanted to make you feel better."

"I know, angel." He stands again as your eyes well with tears to hug you, kissing the top of your head. "I'm sorry. That was all me, okay? I shouldn't have snapped at you."

What follows is agony. Spencer patting your back through a panicked bubble of tears, wretched in knowing he caused it, and worse is the look you give him as he wipes your messed up make up away in want of a mirror, like you're grateful.

"Does it look really bad?"

"N–no. You look really pretty," he says.

"Are my eyes puffy?"

A little. "No. You look great." He can't apologise anymore– it won't help you feel better now, it'll just assuage his own worry. What you need is a different reassurance. "It's hard not looking at you, sometimes, you look that nice. But you know that already."

"I don't mean to do that. I didn't mean to."

Spencer puts his hand above your heart. "I know you didn't. I really, really shouldn't have said it. I was being cranky and I struck out like a kid."

"...You're not just saying I look nice to get back in the good books, are you?" you ask.

Spencer leans in, nearly nose to nose with you. "Of course not."

You tilt your head as though you might kiss him. He knows you won't and he's delighted anyways. It means you're feeling okay. He's nearly forgiven, or, at the very least, you're not actively upset. "I thought I liked seeing you pissed off, but now I'm not so sure."

"It's not a good look on me," he murmurs. "But it looks great on you, if you want to get angry with me."

"Well now I can't. I know it's what you want."

"Can I give you a hug?" he asks.

You drop all your acts and slide your arms around his neck. He wraps you up slowly, one arm at a time, careful to put all the pressure exactly where you like it.

"That feels nice," you mumble.

He bends into you and rubs your back. "Yeah?"

"Don't," you warn.

He draws a shape into your back with his fingers, slow, tiny things that make you squirm. "Don't what?"

"You're tickling me." You don't sound unhappy about it.

"What?" he asks. "I can't hear you over the sound of me being a huge jackass. Sorry, angel."

Your giggle is honey into his shoulder, sticky and sluggish as his circles turn to stars.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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mphountitled · 7 months

Text

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧

→ Mingyu x Fem!reader

→ Summary: "If you wanted me to get you pregnant so bad, all you had to was ask."

→ Warnings: Established Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Businessman au, Humour, Slight!Body Dysmorphia, Insecurities, Workaholic!Reader, Shy!Reader, Slight Male Manipulation, Slight!Angst, Smut (+18), Semi!Public Sex, Slight Coercion, Needy!Mingyu, He Whimpers, Pervy!Mingyu, Corruption Kink, Desperate Sex, Massive Breeding kink, Mingyu has a choking kink, and a Praise kink, Slight!Daddy Kink, Unprotected Sex

Mingyu likes getting choked, pls argue with the wall

The dollop of heat in your stomach steadily grew into a pool of molten lava throughout the duration of the award ceremony. The entire televised event was supposed to be in celebration of your husband and the diligence he has extended to the company for all of 2 decades.

Instead, most of the evening is spent nursing your anxiety with a flute of champagne, while you attempt to not sweat through your very expensive makeup under the heat of multiple strobe lights.

Mingyu, sitting at the table beside you serves as your only anchor, keeping your feet planted firmly to the ground while the rest of the table exchange pleasantries involving baby pictures and ultrasounds.

The dread in your stomach only multiplies.

You've been made privy to how they speak about you and your husband behind gloved hands in hushed whispers. A husband who has had to be burdened with a wife whose internal clock was no match for the importance of a career. Perhaps they thought you were too self important and too driven. Perhaps that explains why you were always invited to events out of courtesy and never out of true interest. Perhaps-

"Stop that." Mingyu's voice travels to your ear at a low and conspiratorial baritone while the rest of wives and husband at the table talk animatedly.

"Stop what?" You ask while Mingyu draws your attention to his hand now resting on your thigh underneath the table.

"Don't play with me. I can tell when you're overthinking," He says, letting his palm brush over the sequins of your pitch black dress. It matched his all black suit to rude perfection, truly making you believe you were the best dressed couple in the whole event. "If you're gonna be thinking about something, I'd rather it be the likelihood of me eating you out in this dress after we're done."

His words succeed in dragging your thoughts away from the happy couples and their happy families and you meet his eyes and the amusement swimming within them.

"Is sex really all you think about-"

Mingyu answers your question by suddenly grabbing a hold of your hand and forcing your palm over his lap until your palm is lightly grazing the bulge forming there.

"Let's hope this ends soon so we can get the fuck out of here." The rest of the event was spent with you, staring down at the table in a mindless, lustful daze while Mingyu still guided your palm up and down the bulge in his pants. It was conspicuous enough for it to look like his hand was simply resting atop yours, if anyone really got particularly nosy. Luckily, everyone else was too drunk on overpriced soju to recognize Mingyu's forced self pleasuring while he took casual little sips from his glass intermittently.

You were both relieved once it was time to go home.

This inability to adapt into the upper echelons of housewife society had not bothered you initially and it certainly did not bother your husband. In fact, someone as aloof and optimistic as Mingyu was seldom concerned with the matters of holding face for a backwards capitalistic society.

"If we weren't rich I thoroughly believe we would be those 'eat the rich' people." Mingyu announces as he trails into the bathroom behind you. The overhead lights bathe the bathroom's onyx accents in a dim light, successfully relaxing you and easing the bundle of knots that had built up in your shoulders.

Mingyu seems equally pleased to be back home, kicking off his Abercrombie loafers and watching them fly into a corner while he undoes the buttons of his jet black dress shirt. His tall frame is hunched over as he wraps his arms around your stomach, allowing you to lead him to the bathroom sinks with heavy footsteps like a 187 centimetre baby.

You, of course, do not object when he pushes his head into the space between your neck and shoulder as you begin to brush your teeth. If the award ceremony was as draining for him as it was for you, then this truly is the first moment he is able to let himself go the entire day.

"I think we can still be those 'eat the rich' people because it's not like we're rich by choice, right?" Seeing your husband constantly run the risk of impending communism would be amusing, were it not for the sour taste still present in your mouth from the work event Mingyu had just taken you too.

"At least you got to watch me in my element-" He grumbles against your skin before begrudgingly peeling himself off of you to make his way to his side of the bathroom,

"Ugh," Mingyu groans with exaggeration as he commences with his skin care, "You literally got to watch your sexy and talented husband accept a corporate award in a room full of people. I'm so jealous of you,"

"Ugh, I know!" You nod back, "Jihoon looked so good on that podium. Remind me to send him a message later." You evade Mingyu's deadpan look through the oval shaped mirror as you continue to brush.

"On a serious note, Gyu, I'm glad you had fun while I was being forced to entertain those industry housewives." You momentarily stop your brushing, "I'm thoroughly overwhelmed by ultrasounds!" You exclaim frustratedly through a gurgle of toothpaste. The very thought of those women shot your blood pressure to hell.

Their idealistic lives and their idealistic vaginas that could somehow push out a steady stream of babies before snapping back as if nothing ever happened. Business as usual.

Meanwhile, your body threw a tantrum the very second you even had a vague thought of eating something outside the bounds of your diet.

Mingyu adored every part of you - you know this - but that nauseating feeling of inadequacy always crept up on you in moments of weakness.

You sigh, "I think those women have magical vaginas."

"Hey." Mingyu says, patting down his face, "All women have magical vaginas but you especially."

You swiftly ignore him and continue your furious brushing as you say, "Every single day it's 'This one is pregnant!' 'This one wants to get pregnant,' 'This one is trying to get pregnant!'" You rant, completely oblivious to the way Mingyu watches you through the mirror as you continue.

"'I'm not quite sure when it became socially accessible for couples to just air out their breeding kinks to the public-" an ungentlemanly snort escapes through Mingyu's mouth and he pauses to shake his head and compose himself.

"I'm ultra-sounded out!" You exclaim, finally bending over to spit out a wad of toothpaste. In your periphery, Mingyu watches you with that passive look of contentment and unwavering adoration that almost never seems to leave his face in your presence.

Despite his overly humorous tendencies at times, Mingyu also harboured the habit of reading in between the lines - he had to, not only for his job but for his romantic life as well. Being blessed with a shy partner meant Mingyu had to dig just a little deeper past the veneer of everything you say, to get just a little closer to what you actually meant.

Your shyness and stoicism is what initially drew him to you in the first place. Always beating around the proverbial bush to protect your most sacred dignity and independence. It was always a struggle for Mingyu but it turned him on way too easily to picture his put-together, independent little wife needing him in a way she might not even know.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" You ask quietly, lifting your head before reigning your braids into a ponytail.

"How am I looking at you?" Mingyu asks in a voice way too husky to harbour any sense of professionalism.

"Are you seriously turned on right now?" There is no use in denying it because Mingyu knew you could read him like an open book. There's a soberness that hits him when he's turned on.

He jokes less than usual and assumes a more… slutty disposition that neither him nor you have ever been able to tame. Mingyu rubs the excess cream into his hands before leaning against the marble countertops. He watches you with a small, dangerous smirk that sends a flurry of butterflies swimming the pits of your stomach.

"If you wanted me to get you pregnant so badly, all you had to do was ask." His sentence bulldozes through the silence, steals the air right out of your lungs and nearly sweeps your feet out from underneath you. The world practically spins for a second but you grapple desperately onto your sensibilities for your sensibilities are one of the very few things you can arm yourself against your husband's slutty seduction.

"I think I could've squeezed you into my busy schedule," He chuckles lightly before stepping forward.

Almost automatically you step backwards, which evidently gets Mingyu way too excited. He raises his eyebrows with a slight before he's closing the distance between the two of you with 2 wide strides.

The light pouring down from the ceiling suddenly feels too warm, and the air feels like you've teleported to a crowded bazaar in the centre of the desert. You refuse to make eye contact with Mingyu, looming over you. You only splay a hand against his chest as you attempt to chuckle.

"You're being ridiculous." You say, "If you need to cum so bad, use your hand."

"Nah," He shakes his head without ever breaking eye contact, "That would be a waste, wouldn't it?" Mingyu's eyes frantically search your features for the same traces of lust so shamelessly displayed across his own visage. His lips are parted with his quiet breathing. "Just tell me what you want me to do, and I'll do it."

It felt like a betrayal on everything you held dear, admitting that the idea of him cumming inside you with the purpose of getting you pregnant turned you on. It felt like a betrayal on your career and your goals and aspirations.

However, Mingyu's sensibilities are completely clouded by unshakeable lust. He is so easily stimulated by every single thing about you, the softness of your body, the familiarity of your scent and the mental image of seeing you actually pregnant with his child. It has him pushing you further against the bathroom wall until the coolness of the stone sank steadily through your night dress.

Mingyu's hand immediately rips the offending article of clothing, pushing your night dress up slowly and feeling his own cock ache at how you silently comply.

"It's really easy, baby. I just need you to tell me you want me to cum in that little pussy of yours and I'll do it. Just wanna…" Mingyu's incoherence during states of exceptional lust always succeeded in making you absolutely wet. He became an insatiable, talkative and blubbering mess.

"...Just wanna make you happy," His breathing picks up almost as easily as yours, and inside himself, Mingyu releases a shotgun prayer that you want this just as bad as he does. He hopes your mind has been flooded with the exact same fantasies of him, sliding his bare cock into your soaking cunt. Him ramming into you and finishing inside of you and-

"Ah- fuck," He hisses, unable to get your panties down all the way before he's letting his fingers drift across your slippery folds. "Look at how wet you are, baby. You really do want me to cum inside your pretty little pussy, don't you?"

Mingyu's cock twitches uncomfortably in his pants while he drifts his fingers over your puffy clit, pulling a strangled moan from your throat.

"Feels good, baby?" He whimpers before slotting his hips between your legs. Mingyu's breath is warm against the side of your face as he continues to rub infuriating circles on your clit. "I can make you feel even better baby… if you let me fuck you, I can make us both feel good, yeah?" He's a whining mess - you both are as your hips move in tandem against his hands.

"Fuck, baby I need you to tell me you want this. I need you to tell me I can throw away the condoms, that I can cum inside you-"

"F-Fuck, Daddy," Your slip-up would've gone perfectly unnoticed, were it not for the heavy, almost oppressive silence between the two of you in the bathroom. Mingyu's ears perk up like a puppy that had just heard his favorite word, and he pulls himself away to gaze deeply into your eyes with adoration and awe. Mingyu's pink lips hang open as he scrambles back up to his height. He cups your cheeks with both hands, and you lean into his warm calluses as his thumbs rub gentle circles on your cheek.

The kiss he leaves on your nose is delicate and romantic.

The perfect calm before the proverbial storm.

Mingyu then nods slowly as he says, "Well now I'm definitely going to fuck you," the conviction and the bass in his voice urges a pathetic whimper through your lips and you're left to comply limply as Mingyu places a palm on your exposed thigh. He lifts you up until your leg is locked firmly around his hip and he's almost perfectly slotted between your bare legs. The feeling of having him so close to you, in such a starkly intimate position leaves you both momentarily speechless and you're watching each other as if terrified of breaking this spell of lust.

Mingyu is deliberate in his actions as he moves his hand to pull his cock out of his pants, all without breaking eye contact.

"Don't play with me like this, baby," it's the most serious he has ever been, and your back is almost moulded to the wall as Mingyu lines the tip of his aching cock to your dripping cunt. "I was literally so close to cumming in my pants, so if you're playing with me right now-"

"Mingyu," your voice is airy as you push your hips forward, taking initiative, as you always did, until the head of his cock was prodding your entrance. He shivers greatly before stealing a glance down at his cock entering you so swiftly, before he gazes deep into your eyes once more.

"If you want me…" Mingyu whispers as he fully sheathes his cock inside you, overcome by yet another violent shiver. "Baby, you have me."

The first thrust is nearly cataclysmic and he has to stop himself from cumming on the spot. Seeing him so incredibly turned on, so ready to burst at the seams has your cunt clenching around him, pulling him deeper and deeper until his gigantic cock was stretching your cunt to what felt like its limits. That second thrust completely drains him of all his composure and soon Mingyu's fucking you relentlessy into the wall as if he both hated you and loved you and did not know which was which.

Your mouth hangs open as you watch him absolutely ravage you. His dark eyes are hooded with lust and he's babbling his incoherent sentences while his long, messy hair brushes over his cheeks. He is absolutely fargone as he thrusts his hips into you, while his other hand is stationed against the wall above you. "Thank you for letting me do this, baby," he damn near whimpers as he pushes himself harder and faster into you, unable to stop the neediness from sinking into his tone. "Thank you, thank you, thank you-"

"You're doing so well baby" You whisper, causing his hips to stutter against yours while a pained moan releases itself from your throat.

Your mouth is still hanging open and Mingyu takes the opportunity to dip down and crash his lips onto yours. The kiss is furious and desperate and you realise this is exactly what you love about him. You appreciate how easy it is to please him, how unashamed Mingyu is of displaying his emotions. He is loud and passionate and it drives you absolutely insane.

"Fuck-I'm close," He breathes, as he peppers kisses along your face. His hand squeezes desperately at your breasts as he pants in your ear. "Tell me to cum inside you- pleasepleaseplease,"

You are operating purely on the lust distributed from Mingyu's incessant whining and whimpering until an idea strikes you so vividly you almost wonder why you had not done this before.

In between your feverish panting and Mingyu's ravaging motions, you delve your head into his hair before peeling his face away from you. His eyebrows are furrowed in confusion before you slither your hand down to lock your palm around the his throat. Your hand doesn't fully enclose his neck but you succeed in adding pressure, causing the man before you to roll his eyes into the back of his skull in absolutely ecstasy-

"Oh fuck-I'm cumming-" his body spasms before you in a euphoric daze, quickly triggering your own orgasm as you continue to choke him and move your hips in tandem with his cock.

"Fuck, oh fuck!" He swears as he clamps his hand around your thigh as if begging to spread you wider, to push in deeper until he's filling you up completely with his load. It's messy and so wildly intimate, you're both lost in the crevices of your own respective pleasure. How anyone could make someone feel as completed as you two currently feel is so unimaginable, you both struggle to find the words. Mingyu is a panting mess above you while you attempt to ease your runway heart.

It strikes you then that you're perhaps afraid, now that the lust has cleared that the post nut clarity might rid him of his earlier statements.

All you do is watch as he places another kiss on the tip of your nose before easing his cock out of you.

"I'll run out to buy Plan B tomorrow. You don't have to -"

He shushes you almost immediately as he pads over the bathroom sink. Mingyu hums softly as he ruffles through the medicine cabinet until he finds what he's looking for. All you can do is watch as he dumps the entire contents of your birth control pills down the toilet. He never breaks eye contact, only maintaining a wide slightly manic smile.

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tteokdoroki · 9 months

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☆༉ — KATSUKI BAKUGOU. compression shirts & sweatpants.

about. hello u guys wanted me to finish this so i did lol !!!! i just can’t get the idea of him in compression shirts out of my mind ok enjoy !! <3

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact. suggestive, making out, hickies, dry humping, bakugou being a huge tease, gn!reader, pro hero!bakugou.

“do you get off on this? dressing like a slut?”

after pushing his bread down into the toaster, bakugou stops mid-sip, his signature red riot coffee mug about a quarter of an inch away from the pink and plush curve of his lips. he looks over to you as if he’s an animal that’s been caught doing something it’s not supposed to. a deer in headlights if you will.

“hah?”

you clench your fists, the foulest pout you can muster spread thinly over your features like a veil, as a petulant huff escapes you. you pretend to be mad at the man for as long as you can, turning your head away from him with your arms crossed over your chest. but you can’t help it. you can’t fight it… your gaze trailing back over to him at a snail’s pace.

katsuki bakugou looks like a fucking god.

not only does the stupid black compression shirt he’s wearing highlight the slender accent of his hips and itty bitty waist — but it clings to every muscle in bakugou’s marble-carved body. you can see every bulge of his biceps and ripple in his backs, even down to his washboard abs. honestly, you count your lucky stars every day that you managed to sink your fangs into the blonde before anyone else did, claiming him as your own. you might have even thrown up if anyone got to see him lounging about the place in grey sweats the way you did, the material just barely sitting on his hips.

you have to swipe at your mouth to stop yourself from drooling when he puts his mug down and lifts an arm up high to put the coffee granules back in the cupboard — his shirt riding up just enough for you to get a good look at a slither if his his sun-kissed, diamond cut v-line and waistband of his boxers too. it’s like the guy is purposefully trying to kill you.

just the very sight of katsuki like this, probably fresh from his work out, has you in a shambles — breaking out into hot sweats, panting like a dog. someone might even think you’re sick.

katsuki pays your little tantrum no mind, crossing his arms and leaning his hip against the kitchen counter while he waits for you to finish.

“you look so good.” you relent eventually, shoulders sagging.

shaking his head in a fond manner, the blonde rolls his ruby framed eyes. “no, you look good.” katsuki coos amusedly, arms opening wide for you as you pad further into the kitchen to snuggle against his chest. although he’s taunting you and you’re playing right into his game, you will always love that katsuki finds little ways to compliment you and make you feel adored — you feel it as he presses the wisps of a kiss into the crown of your head. “you always do.”

“it’s not fair that you get to go around like this! wearing that and making me feel all—!” you wave your hands about eccentrically, a heated frustration burning at your nerve endings as you screech your feelings out.

bakugou smiles to himself, sexy and slow, barely jumping when his toast pops out of the toaster. he grabs it, holds the corner of his food between his rows of pearly white teeth and spins your positions so that he traps you against the kitchen counter. “gonna need some context, babe.” you think that he’s going to touch you but instead reaches behind you to grab at his coffee.

freaking tease.

it’s impossible to think clearly when your boyfriend is this close — his intoxicating musky scent of sweet sweat and cool toned aftershave making you dizzy. “i hate you.” you state indignantly, flopping against his chest and letting it’s plushness muffle your speech patterns. “you’re stupid hot. and a slut.”

“you slut shamin’ me, sweetness?”

“s’what you deserve. dressin’ like you don’t belong to nobody. like you belong to the streets.”

“i belong to you, baby. you know that.” chucking his toast onto the counter, the blonde swoops down to kiss you hungrily — tasting of freshly brewed coffee grounds and salt. of course he would get off to something like this. he’s got you right where he wants you, weak in the knees and melting in his arms.

you screw your eyes shut, squirming in place as bakugou steps back and guides your hand under his tight fitting compression shirt, overloading your brain with just how built he is. fleshy pecks and golden abs. he ends up keeping it rolled up so you feel hot all over. “i can get undressed if it makes ya feel better.”

you can’t help that your eyes drop back down to his cotton grey sweats — they’ve slipped a little lower, low enough for his sharp v-line and soft blonde curls from his happy trail to peek out from the waistband. if you squinted (not that you would need to) you could make out the outline of his semi as it brushes against your inner thighs.

this is it. this is the end. “it makes me feel worse actually. like i might die of thirst or something. especially if you don’t—“

“if i don’, what?” his hands are all over you now, splayed over your tummy, digging into your waist — he overwhelms you. pressing his body against yours until you practically feel him through your pores. bakugou is hot (physically, sure) but against you, your desire for him spreads like a heatwave through every inch of your body — from the tips of your fingers and toes to the top of your head.

“kiss me.” you breathe, a neediness seeded into your tone.

bakugou arches a blonde eyebrow, looking down at you cockily. “c’mere then, brat.”

he uses a finger and thumb to tilt your chin up towards him, leaning down to kiss you before tricking you with a fake out. just as you begin to whinge and complain, the blonde squishes your cheeks so you can’t wriggle away from him and licks into your mouth with a teasing laugh. he only kisses you fully when you grasp at his slender waist, feel him up from under his clothes and slip your hands over his ass — just bellow the waistband of his sweats.

“fuckin’ tease,” katsuki grunts, tugging on your lower lip with his teeth and sucking in your tongue.

a free hand wanders from his bottom, climbs up the rippling muscles of his back and tangles in bakugou’s sandy roots — fisting then as you drag him closer, working your tongue into his hot and welcoming mouth. “takes one to know one, kats,” you mewl into him, letting him swallow your satisfied gasps and squeaks.

every action, every groan and grope becomes rougher, needier, hornier — squeezing each other turns to grinding on one another until there’s no room for either of you to breathe and just as you move to shove your hand down the front of his boxers, everything comes to a halt.

you knock bakugou’s coffee over when he lifts you onto the counter.

“ow! hot!” you squeal, still tilting your head back to make room for the blonde at your neck.

he doesn’t stop, nipping at your skin. “yeah, so you’ve said babe.”

“not you, dummy!” swatting at your boyfriend, you push him off. “the fucking coffee on my ass!”

katsuki blinks, his lashes fluttering against the column of your throat while be peeks over your shoulder at the beverage spilling across the counter and seeping into your clothes.

“that’s what you get for callin’ me a slut.”

“oh…oh fuck you.”

“‘m trying babe.”

“fuck you. slut.”

“keep degrading me sweetness, ‘m kinda into that.”

#bakugou x reader #bakugou smut #bakugou fluff #bakugo x reader #bakugo smut #bakugou x you #bakugou thirst #bakugo x you #bakugo thirst #bakugo fluff #bakugou imagines #bakugo drabble #bnha smut #bnha x reader #bnha x you #bnha fluff #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #tteokdoroki

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satorusugurugurl · 1 month

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JJK Men: Seeing You Without Makeup For the First Time

Warning: Fluffy sweetness, insecurities, suggestiveness, language

Characters: Gojo Satoru, Choso Kamo, Modern!Ryomen Sukuna, Nanami Kento

Word Count: 2,993

A/N: Ah yes, I love this trope. It was fun to write!! Please Enjoy, don't blame me from any cavities from this sweet fluff. Request Open.

Gojo Satoru:

The smell of freshly brewed coffee was the only thing keeping your eyes open. You grumbled and cursed the sun for rising another day as you leaned over the kitchen counter, watching the magic bean juice filling your cup. The higher-ups must not like you because the mission they just sent you on was hell.

A week, a damn week, you were gone. A week from your bed, students, and your boyfriend. Stupid old men and their dumb missions. But who were you to complain if you paid your bills and you were able to teach the next generation of sorcerers? So life wasn't that bad.

Then again, your somewhat happy outlook on life might be the sleep deprivation talking.

The bastards were sweet enough to give you one day to recuperate. There was no time to relax, though. You had laundry to sort through, groceries to pick up, and the normal mundane things you'd missed out on during the WEEK you were gone!

A day off was a day off despite it being a busy one. You would get it all done after you drank this coffee Satoru got you from Mexico on his last mission. As soon as you downed it, you would off. You were already dressed to go. You had on sweats and a t-shirt, and you opted out of putting on any makeup, seeing that you would just be running around.

Your phone chimed as Satoru’s name popped up on your screen. You smiled as you opened the chat.

Satoru: Good morning, beautiful! 😙 Welcome back! I had breakfast delivered to you; enjoy! 🍳🥓🧇

“Oh, he's getting laid later.” You squealed, running for the door to your apartment.

You flung it open, staring at the ground, expecting a bag, but instead, you were greeted by shoes. Designer shoes that you knew all too well. Slowly trailing up dark uniform pants and jacket that was from the same school you worked at. Further up, you caught sight of a wide grin, a blindfold, and fluffy white hair. All of which belongs to your boyfriend, who was holding a takeout bag.

“Special delivery for Y/L/N Y/N!”

Your boyfriend was here. The same boyfriend who was utterly gorgeous no matter what condition he was in. The man could be caked in blood, and you still wanted to kiss him. Then there was you; you always put in the effort to look nice around him, hair styled, cute outfit, some form of makeup always on.

Today was not one of those days.

In a panic, you squeaked, slamming the door in his face. “What the fuck?! What the actual fuck!?” You glanced around for anything you could use to hide your appearance. You panicked and grabbed the first thing off the couch.

“Uhm, babe?” Satoru questioned, opening the door. “I know you were gone for a week. But I'm Gojo Satoru, your boyfriend.”

“I know!! Sorry, I wasn't expecting to see you!” you had your back turned to him, covering your face with your hands. “T-Thanks for the food! But I have so much to do!”

“Really?”

“Yep! Laundry!”

“I had Ijichi pick it up this morning.”

Fuuuuck.

“O-Okay! I have to get groceries!”

“Your fridge is fully stocked, courtesy of yours truly.”

The room felt like it was shrinking in on you as you listened to him come up behind you. The bag was discarded as his arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest. You weren't sure how he would react, seeing your bare face, and that was terrifying.

So many men thought women wearing makeup was like lying. You had always done very light and minimal makeup, but it didn't make it less scary. Sensing the tension, Satoru gently turned you around so you were facing him. He stiffened, his mouth turning from a grin to a shocked expression.

“Y/N?” His voice was so quiet.

“Y-Yeah?”

A choked laugh erupted from his throat. “I-Is that one of my blindfolded?!” He called as you stated at the darkness his blindfold provided. “Oh my god, hold on! Hold on!” You could feel him near you with the camera on his phone clicking. “Oh my god, wait until the second years see this!” Fingers hooked under the blindfold, yanking it up and off your head.

Your hands flew up, hiding your face. Your attempt was foiled as Satoru's gentle hands pulled them away. With a shuddering sigh, you looked up at him, biting your cheek as he fully saw you. For you, no makeup, fancy clothes, or styled hair.

Satoru just smiled, leaning down before he kissed your lips gently. “Welcome home.” He pulled back, tilting his head to the side. “What was with the off-brand cosplay?” Your cheeks are flushed, the darker pigment visible without any trace of makeup.

“I-I don't have any makeup on.”

“Oh!” He straightened, his large hand patting your head. “You're so cute.”

His grin grew wider at the confused expression inching its way over your face. “Seriously? Do you think that? Even without the makeup and the baggy clothes? You still think I'm cute?” Satoru’s head bobbed up and down so fast you thought his head would fall out. His sincere reaction made you giggle, shaking your head. “Satoru, you are so strange. But also extremely sweet.” When you looked up, you blinked, seeing Gojo holding up one side of his blindfold. His bright blue eye looked you over, inching over every curve and surface of you. “Satoru, stop staring.”

“I just was confirming something.” he snapped his blindfold back into place before draping an arm over you.

You poured yourself a cup of coffee while Satoru pulled your breakfast out of the bag. “Confirming what?”

“Just confirming with Six-Eyes that I have the prettiest girlfriend in the entire world.”

Gojo’s smile slowly faded as you slammed the coffee pot down. Oh fuck, what did he say?! You led around; fire swarmed in Y/E/C eyes as you stormed over to him, grabbing his wrist.

“W-What?! What did I say?” He huffed out a gasp as you shoved him onto the couch.

“Everything.”

You unzipped his pants, and Gojo’s eyes were wide behind his blindfold. Even with Six-Eyes, Gojo did not see this coming. Spoiler alert: It was him, he was going to cum.

Choso Kamo:

A knock at your door had you straightening from your spot on the couch. Looking at your phone, you quickly got up. It was well past midnight, and it was never a good sign when someone knocked that late at night on the door.

Much to your relief, when you opened the door to your apartment, your boyfriend looked down at you. “Choso?” a sigh of relief escaped your lips.

“I'm sorry. Did I wake you?” he asked before entering your apartment.

“No, I think you just saved me a stiff neck.” You yawned out before locking the door. “Did you and Yuuji finish up with that mission?”

“Yes, he went back home; I wanted to see you.”

Choso watched as you moved around the apartment. You straightened up the pillows on the couch and wiped down your kitchen before grabbing his hand and leading him to the bedroom. The entire time you went about your mundane tasks, Choso just stared. He couldn't put his finger on it, but something was different about you.

Choso’s eyes moved over you. Trying to depict what was different tonight. Haircut? No. New pajamas? No, that wasn't it, either. Everything Choso tried to think of wasn't the right answer. Not knowing what it was frustrated him to the point that Choso’s eyebrow twitched.

What had you glowing in the lowlights of your bedroom as you pulled the sheets back? “Cho?” You finally asked with a nervous chuckle. “Are you okay? You're staring holes through me.” Realizing that he had been caught, Choso flinched.

“I'm sorry, sorry I just—” Words trailed off as his cheeks flushed.

You had noticed Choso staring at you since he came inside. The poor guy never saw you without makeup, which was probably strange. He seemed to be struggling, trying to find the words to the mountain of questions he might have.

“It's okay. I think I know what you're going to ask.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, you’re going to ask what’s different.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I look different because I’m not wearing makeup.”

Choso tilted his head to the side.”Oh, no, I was going to say you look radiant tonight.” The words that left his mouth had both of you standing in silence.

You just eyed Choso as he smiled, nodding his head like he'd figured out the mystery of what was different. Pleased with his conclusion, he helped you pull the sheets back. His hands smoothed out the covers before he peered up at you. You were blushing, smiling ear to ear as you finished pulling the bed back.

“I just finished doing my skincare routine,” you announced as you crawled into bed after Choso showered. “I have a new serum that is supposed to make you look luminescent.”

Choso studied you carefully as he crawled into bed with you. “Mmm, maybe that’s it.” He pulled you into his arms. “Or maybe it’s just me.” Choso hummed, staring into the face that he loved so much. “Falling in love.” Love?! “Yeah, I think that’s exactly what this is.”

That was the reasoning behind your radiant glow. A glow that always surrounded you no matter what you wore or looked like. Choso saw utter perfection in you. So it only made sense that the reason you looked extra stunning was that he had fallen in love with you even more.

You just snuggled closer into his chest, grinning wide as he yawned. “I love you too, Cho.”

Ryomen Sukuna:

Ten minutes. All it took was ten minutes before chaos erupted in Sukuna’s apartment. He had just finished changing when he heard the commotion. Yuuji and Choso were bickering before you gently tried to break up the argument. The next thing he heard was a scream, your scream, to be exact.

He bolted, running into the kitchen, where he found you wiping at your face. “What the fuck?!” His younger brothers both stood in shock, watching you in fear. Yuuji was holding a box of baking soda, and Choso held a bottle of vinegar.

In the center of the kitchen was the volcano experiment you had been helping Yuuji make. Sukuna was able to put it all together in an instant. He didn't bother yelling. He instead lifted you into his arms, carrying you to the bathroom.

“What the hell happened?” You flinched when you felt a warm, wet rag gently cleaning your face off.

“The boys wanted to see how big of an explosion they could make. But you know the boys, they both were arguing about who should do what. Words were said, contents were thrown into a beaker, and I didn't have my safety goggles on.”

Sukuna sighed, continuing to rub off the mess on your face. “You're not hurt, are you?”

“Nope!” Your confident response had your boyfriend chuckling as he wiped more of the foamy goop off your face.

After about five minutes of wiping and rinsing the rag, Sukuna sat on the tub's edge, examining your face. It was without the small amount of makeup you had on and the lighting of the bathroom that he stared at you. You were stunning, gorgeous in everything. But here in the bathroom, his eyes mapped out your face.

“What happened here?” he asked, fingertips pressing against a small scar under your eye.

Thinking it was food coloring, you turned to the mirror, seeing your bare face. “EH?!” You touched it, groaning as you looked back at your boyfriend, who was smirking. “You wiped off all my makeup!” For a second, Sukuna thought he was dealing with a third child in his apartment.

“Oh, I'm sorry. Did you want to have vinegar on your face?” You shook your head. “That's what I thought. So confess what happened there?”

“Acne scar.”

A soft him rumbled in his chest before he learned over, thumb grazing over a tiny scar at the bottom of your lip. “This?” gentle fingers moved up, brushing over your bottom lip as he stepped closer towards you.

“I-I fell off my bike.”

You swallowed hard, whimpering as Sukuna’s fingers grazed over your face. You were feeling how soft your delicate skin was. All of you mesmerized him. Every time you came over, he learned a little more about you. And god, he fuckin’ loved that.

His hands gently mapped your face out. The softness had you breathing heavily, his eyes glued to your lips. Having your boyfriend gaze over you with such a soft yet burning gaze had you shifting. The air in the bathroom became thick with need as he slowly slipped your tank top sleeve down.

“Y/N, let me see all of you. I want to map out your body and learn everything it has to say.”

“W-What’s gotten into you?”

The whisper tone of your voice had Sukuna sliding the other sleeve of your tank top down. “You. You’ve crept your way into my heart.” The confession that spilled from his lips has you leaning in, wanting him to touch you everywhere. The same way he had touched your face.

“Hey, is she okay?” Choso’s timid voice whispered through the door. “Yuuji’s worried.”

“Take Yuuji out for ice cream.” Your tank top is slowly pulled over your head. “My card is on my dresser.”

Silence spreads out as you tug Sukuna’s shirt up and off. “R-Really?” hands began working on jeans.

“Yes, I have my own project to work on.” Sukuna turned the shower on, and he never heard Choso collecting Yuuji so fast. Refusing to answer any questions as the door to the apartment slammed shut.

Sukuna’s antics had you giggling, licking your lip, and he stripped you completely. “A project, huh?” he nodded, following you into the shower.

“Yeah, but it won't be vinegar foam that covers that pretty face this time.”

Nanami Kento:

The hotel sheets were cold and crisp over your and your boyfriend's bodies. Between the chill and the heat Nanami was putting out, you felt so comfortable. It was the perfect combination that made you want to relish the feeling forever.

The sun was up, which meant you both would be going home soon. You both had been called out on a mission, one that took a bit longer to handle than you both were anticipating. You missed the last train back to Tokyo. Leaving you both stranded in Kawasaki for the night.

Instead of having one of the assistant supervisors drive all the way out to get you, you and Nanami decided to stay at a hotel. God, it was nice: room service, wine, a hot shower. Missing that last train was a reward for the two of you. Nothing more than relaxation and joy. But the moment Nanami pulled you tighter against him, you realized you didn't have your overnight bag.

Meaning you didn't have your makeup.

“Oh no, oh god no.” You whined as Nanami lifted his head.

“What’s wrong?” His groggy voice asked, trying to assess what was going on.

Burying your face in your pillow, you grumbled, cringing as you felt Nanami shift beside you. “I don't have my bag.” The covers move as Nanami props himself up.

“Your overnight bag?”

“Mhmm.”

Silence stretched out. “Did you need something out of it? Aspirin or tampons? I'll go grab you some.” The sincerity of his words made your heart soar. God, Nanami was the best boyfriend.

“No, no, I'm okay.” You shyly turned, swallowing hard. “I just realized you've never seen me without makeup.”

Nanami’s gaze was soft; honey-brown eyes slowly roamed over your face. He took his time, his hand reaching out, knuckles grazing your cheek. It was so gentle and sweet that you pressed yourself against his hand. The warmth spreads to every part of your body.

The bed shifts as Nanami’s hand cups your cheek, pulling you closer. “You are still as stunning in the morning bare-faced as you are all dolled up.” Before you could even think of what to say in response, his lips were on yours.

His lips were warm, like a spring day. You moaned happily, kissing him back as his hands slowly ran down your arms. Breaking the kiss, had you pouting with a displeased groan that shifted into a moan. Those warm lips slowly moved down your face. Nanami was trailing the softest, warmest kisses down your body, over your shoulders and upper arm.

“I want to see all of you.” Hot breath whispered over your skin. “See every part of you, body, mind, and soul in the raw.”

Soft kisses were replaced with gentle nips. The sensation had you arching your back as Nana crawled on top of you. His morning wood was pressing against your hip. It felt like you were melting into the mattress as the once-comfortable room suddenly became too warm. The need to get naked grew stronger and stronger.

“Kento~”

He didn't respond. He was too busy being love-drunk off of you. His fingers, lips, and teeth slowly mapped out every part of your body. Nanami’s actions left you a squirming mess underneath him. One that he was so pleased to see and feel.

Only once you were gasping for air, gripping his shirt, begging him for more, did Nanami finally pull back, taking his shirt off. “Every inch of you is the most beautiful thing that's graced this world, Y/N.” You sat up, pulling him into a starved kiss as he took your shorts off. Limbs entangling as he gently laid you down.

And yes, you missed the morning train. . .and the afternoon train. . .poor Ijichi had to pick you up.

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fangswbenefits · 10 months

Text

Side Effect

Summary: Miguel has been acting off lately and you find out why… the hard way.

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader

18+. Feral Miguel. Rutting Miguel (side effect of the serum he takes). HEAVY breeding kink. Creampie. Fangs. Hormonal manipulation (mention of serums being injected).

You paced hurriedly through the long corridors of HQ determined to get an answer.

A proper one.

If Miguel O’Hara was growing tired of your casual relationship with him, he’d have to tell that to your face instead of avoiding you.

This had been going on for a couple of days, and you patience was now hanging by a thread. You had tried to reach him through your watch, but he’d either ignore you, or have Lyla come up with ridiculous excuses.

“Visiting Peter and MJ my ass,” you grumbled under you breath, your paces echoing loudly.

The moment you were met with the lab door shut, you stopped dead in your tracks.

That was weird.

“What?”

Approaching the scanner on the wall, you reached out your arm, allowing the sensor to read your dimensional travel watch.

That was really weird.

You flicked your wrist again, but were met with the same message.

This had to be Miguel’s poor idea of a joke, because it made no sense that he’d restrict your access to the very place you worked at.

Letting out a strained breath, you tapped on your watch, hoping to reach Miguel.

But it was Lyla’s orange hologram that emerged instead.

“What’s up, sugar?” she beamed happily, filing her nails.

You scowled. “I was calling Miguel.”

“He has redirected every contact to me,” she shrugged, checking each nail individually.

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Why can’t I get in?”

“That’s classified.”

“Classified?”

She nodded with an obnoxious smile that only served to grind your nerves. “I work here.”

“So does Miguel and he is working now,” she said with another shrug.

Anger flared inside you as your worst fears were confirmed.

He was avoiding you in particular.

“Can you just open the door?”

“No.”

“Please?”

Her eyes narrowed behind her heart-shapped glasses. “No.”

“I really need to talk to him.”

Adjusting her long coat, she clicked her tongue. “I can pass him a message.”

That wasn’t good enough and he would just ignore it as usual.

“Lyla…” you started, putting on your most convincing fake smile with an equally forced sweet voice to match. “You know I’ve always like you, right?”

The AI scoffed. “Nah, flattery doesn’t work on me, sugar. It wasn’t programmed into my coding,” she grinned deviously. “But you’re free to suggest that Miguel adds it in a future patch.”

You shot her a death glare. “Fine. Just… tell him I’m here and… yeah…” your voice trailed off.

She winked. “Gotcha!”

The hologram disappeared at once and you were left staring at the large metal door in front of you.

You waited for a couple of minutes, before realising she wasn’t coming back with an answer, as you had expected.

A random thought crossed your mind when your eyes landed on the scanner, reminding you that there was another way in.

Miguel would probably get really angry that you were about to activate the emergency protocol, but you couldn’t care less at this point.

Tapping the pattern onto the pad above the scanner, you couldn’t help but to feel victorious as the door swung open, alarms blaring and a mechanical voice echoing through the lab.

“Emergency protocol activated. Proceed with caution.”

You only made it a few steps past the door, before something — or rather someone — flung you across the room with the weight of their body keeping you pinned against a wall.

A muscled forearm was at your throat, effectively caging you in.

“What the fuck?”

“Emergency protocol activated. Proceed with caution.”

The red alarm lights rotated hurriedly on the ceiling, but you were able to identify Miguel, as his weight dug further into you.

“What are you doing here?” he growled, the eyes on his mask narrowing menacingly.

Something wasn’t right.

Your spider senses detected an alarming accelerated heart rate from him, as well as increased body temperature.

“Miguel, let go! It’s me,” you grunted, clawing at his arm to alleviate the pressure.

“I know it’s you,” he said lowly, the digital mask vanishing.

From the corner of your eyes you saw him baring his fangs, droplets of paralysing poison dripping.

His pupils were fully blown and you felt fear rise inside you. “What are you doing?!”

As if your voice had managed to snap him out of it, he eased the pressure on you and took a few steps back.

“Lyla, deactivate the emergency protocol and resume the serum synthesis.”

“Got it, Miguel!”

The alarm was turned off immediately and silence took place.

Your breath was coming out in shallow pants, as you tried to make sense of what had just happened.

Was he that angry that he had gone completely feral?

“Miguel… what…”

He turned his back on you and paced to a nearby centrifuge, the screen atop announcing: <DNA stabilising sequence at 24%>

What was he doing?

“Leave.”

“Can we just talk?” you said, still keeping your distance. “I don’t know why you’re avoiding me, but barring my access-“

Miguel turned around to face you, a deep scowl had settled on his face, twisting his lips.

The glare he gave you was enough to send shivers down your spine.

“I need you gone. Now.”

Fuck. Was he that over you that he couldn’t even stand your presence around?

He had shortened the distance between you two, crimson eyes never leaving yours.

“Why? If you don’t want to be with me just say that,” you groaned in frustration. “Don’t stare at me like you’re about to split me in half. It won’t work.”

Miguel had effectively managed to have your back hit the nearby wall once more, just from the weight of his stare alone.

“I told you to leave. I can’t have you around me.”

“Oh, great!” you scoffed. “Thanks for being so direct.”

Miguel didn’t stop moving until his face was only a few inches away from yours. “You don’t get it.”

“You’re right. I don’t. We’re both adults, so you could have just said this a couple of days ago instead of acting like I’m some nuisance.”

His hand came to grip your jaw and you widened your eyes. “You’re on birth control, right?”

“What…”

He took a deep breath, fangs grazing his lower lip. “Answer me.”

“Yes. Of course.”

Wait… was he scared that he might have knocked you up?

His fingers loosened and he pressed his forehead to the wall right beside your head, groaning out loud.

“Miguel… what is going on?”

You wanted to him a comfort squeeze on his arm, but were too frozen to move.

“Why… why do you have to be on birth control?”

Was he pulling your leg? Was this his twisted version of a joke?

This time, you frowned. “What do you mean why? I don’t want to get unexpectedly pregnant.”

Miguel punched the wall with such force it dented the material and making you jolt.

“I’m rutting.”

Your eyes darted to his face as he straightened up, pupils still dilated and beads of sweat rolling down his temples.

“What… rutting?” you asked, mouth dropping open in confusion.

He growled impatiently. “Side effect of my serum. I usually have an antidote at hand when this happens, but I ran out of one of the components…” he paused briefly as if struggling to breath properly. “I had to go to Peter B’s Earth to get more.”

Oh. So that hadn’t been one of Lyla’s ridiculous lies.

You glanced over at the nearby screen:

Oh.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this before?” you asked, wanting to bring him some comfort somehow. “We’ve been together for a few months.”

“It was never necessary. I always had the neutraliser for my serum at hand.”

You bit your lip.

He let out a low dark chuckle. “You have no idea how badly I’ve been wanting to breed you.”

This definitely wasn’t something you were expecting to hear from Miguel O’hara himself, and it made your heart skip a beat.

His arms were caging you, his talons digging deep into the metal right next to your head.

“Is… huh… is there anything I can do?” you asked in a whisper. “I mean… in the lab.”

He pressed his lower half into you at once. “Let me breed you.”

You flinched as his hard cock dug into your crotch and you let out a gasp.

“Can’t you just wait for the synthesis to be over?”

The sound of the metal being shredded tore through your ears and his lips nearly brushed yours. “I told you to leave, but you’re too stubborn, aren’t you?”

His breath was hot and you felt goosebumps rise throughout your body.

“Always running that mouth,” he growled, eyes landing on your lips. “Always defying me… and now I really, really need to breed you.”

For some twisted reason, his words and cock twitching against you were slowly swallowing your mind, causing you to abandon reason.

Miguel was a very dedicated lover, but you had never witnessed such yearning from him.

That was a novelty and it was doing wonders to your ego.

Even if there was a scientific explanation, you could help but plant a soft kiss on his cheek. “You can’t breed me… I’m on birth control.”

His hand came to grip your chin again and you saw anger flicker in his eyes. “There’s ways around that.”

Your eyes widened.

He wasn’t being serious…

… was he?

“Miguel…”

The grip tightened and he rolled his hips. “Let me. Please.”

You knew exactly what he was talking about. He had developed a serum that would neutralise all hormonal manipulation as a way to reset your body in case a spider needed to be injected with a serum.

You had helped him develop it.

Its efficacy neared 90%.

You guessed this neutraliser wasn’t able to prevent the side effects from his very specific serum.

And now he wanted to use it on you, so he could successfully breed you.

“Are you sure?” you asked, not sure why agreeing to this in the first place was sending such an adrenaline rush through your veins.

Miguel moved away from you, bolting to one of the desks, rummaging through the drawers.

You swallowed hard, but remained glued to the wall, heart hammering fast in your chest.

In a blink of an eye, he was on you again, holding the syringe in his trembling hand. “I’m desperate, but I need your words first.”

You clenched and felt wetness spilling from you.

How was this so arousing?

“What words?”

He moved to place a quivering kiss to your forehead and you saw the liquid wobble inside the container.

“That’s… not the compound we synthesised.”

“It’s more than that,” he said with another kiss. “It stimulates your ovaries.”

Oh… fuck.

He trailed kisses down your face, before pecking your lips. “I have to breed you. Successfully.”

Your legs nearly gave out at his confession and you nearly moaned as he ripped your suit to gain access to your bicep.

“Tell me I can do this.”

His cock was nudging you again as a reminder of his desire, and you nodded.

“No. Say it.”

He was rubbing your skin with his thumb right where he intended to inject the serum.

“Go ahead.”

“Gracias,” he whispered, planting another kiss to your forehead.

At this point, you were far too drunk in lust to think clearly and your lips parted in a pained moaned as you felt a sharp jab in your arm. He kept his lips on you as reassurance, as the liquid tore through your muscle.

Your heartbeat skyrocketed straight away.

You felt your knees buckle under you, but Miguel steadied you with both arms. “I got you.”

A gasp quickly turned into a moan as the effect of the serum consumed you with each passing second.

He trailed his hands down your body and gripped your hips.

“Turn around.”

You let him guide you, biting down hard on your lower lip, you panties sticking to your soaked folds.

More ripping sounds filled the air as Miguel tried to get rid of your suit, exposing your underwear to him.

You balled your fists and felt one hand on your lower back, adding light pressure. “Bend over.”

Doing as commanded, you felt more wetness spill from you as your body readied itself for Miguel.

The pressure increased. “More.”

Your panties were torn apart right away and you glanced over your shoulder, catching a glimpse of Miguel’s fangs peeking through his lips.

His thumb dragged along your folds, teasing your swollen clit and earning a whimper from you.

“Sorry, but I really need to be inside you,” he grumbled and you nodded.

Your heart skipped several beats, as you tried to control your breathing in anticipation.

The tip of his cock was soon pressed against your opening, and you squeezed your eyes shut.

“I’m sorry.”

Before you could inquire what he meant, your mouth fell open as he rammed inside you, bottoming out at once.

He didn’t wait for your to recover from the initial shock, and began pumping into you so ferociously, you had to grab a hold on the metal railing to your right to keep yourself from losing balance.

Miguel heaved a heavy sigh of relief as if he had been waiting a lifetime for this sensation.

Grunts and groans mixed with the wet sounds of your pussy engulfing his cock over and over again.

“Should have bred you sooner…” he managed to say in between snaps of his hips. “Developed that serum just for you…”

Miguel’s idea of dirty talk was effective. Too effective, because you couldn’t hold back from clenching hard around him, savoring the friction and feel of being stuffed full of him.

He picked up the pace and you thought you were going to die.

Not because it was uncomfortable, but because it was too overwhelming, and your body was responding to his in a way you had never experienced before.

You felt your lower abdomen coil at the sides and figured the serum had reached its target destination.

Miguel gripped both your arms and you let go of the railing, as he tugged hard to have your back smack against his hard chest.

“You’re so lucky this rut didn’t hit me harder,” he growled, hips never faltering. “I was barely able to control myself around you…”

Your eyes fluttered shut and you moaned loudly, feeling his pectoral muscles press into your back. This man was too hot and you found yourself thinking that not being bred by him would be a waste.

That genetic material deserved to be spread.

“Being on birth control with me…” he said through gritted teeth, and you felt his fangs nipping your ear lightly. “You. Deserve. To. Be. Bred.” he punctuated each word with a snap of his hips.

An intense wave of pleasure pulsated from your clit, and you recognised the familiar strings of an orgasm pulling you in and embracing you gentle with each stroke.

“Miguel…” you moaned, blinded by lust and desire.

The grip on your arms loosened briefly and he let your torso lean forward ever so slightly, angling your hips in a way that made him his cock hit you over and over again just where you needed the most.

“I want you full with my babies,” he gasped.

Your orgasm hit you with such force, you thought you were going to collapse and slide off his cock, but he wrapped one arm around you, not allowing you to part from him.

“You feel so good… tighter… tighter,” he urged, as your walls contracted around him rhythmically, faintly at first, but the next stronger than the one before.

You were far too gone to form any words and just let your lips part as an intense moan ripped through your throat.

Miguel was mumbling something behind you, but you couldn’t make out any words as you descended from your height.

Even through quivering legs and pulsing clit, you were able to feel it.

He was now pumping you full with broken snaps of his hips.

You glanced down and saw strings of cum dripping from where he was connected with you.

So much cum.

He wasn’t even slowing down, as he’d usually do at this stage.

Miguel kept on ramming into you from behind, sending more and more cum to drip from within you.

An animalistic growl left his mouth as he finally came to a halt, breathing hard.

He remained balls deep inside you, and you planted on hand on the wall to look in absolute awe at the cum dripping and dangling from your clit, a pool of it now at your feet.

“How did you cum so much?” you managed to say in between laboured breaths.

“I’m rutting, cariño. My body produces more,” he said, pressing a kiss to the back of your neck.

You glanced to the screen nearby.

“Maybe you can take the neutraliser now?

He slid his cock out of you halfway, before slamming it back, and you felt more cum spill out. “I don’t think so.”

Oh, you were utterly fucked.

In every sense of the word.

Masterlist

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #spiderman 2099

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