Giggly Sex Where You Say “you’re So Good To Me” As You Laugh And It Makes Your Partner Growl And

obi wan smut where the reader is inexperienced bc she thought the code demanded it and obi wan is Not Inexperienced and she’s embarrassed that she doesn’t know what she’s doing and obi wan reassures her and is also lowkey like “don’t be embarrassed it’s really hot that i’m the only one that knows how to pleasure you” ANYWAY uuuh if you don’t wanna write this i understand lol hope you’re doing well bestie -🦎

Oh my god this is burned into my brain, yes I’d love to write this 💖 thanks for the request love! Also i definitely got carried away with this oops but ive decided to make a part 2 to this i hope you dont mind. I’ll make it worth the wait pinky promise!

The Lesson (Part 1)

Warnings- Obi-Wan fucks and we all know it, fluff kinda, thigh riding, oral (F receiving), Fingering, innocence kink, Virgin!Reader just living the dream

Word count- 3,104

This is unedited cause tbh im lazy and i just write however i want

You couldn’t pin point exactly when the air had shifted between you and your Master. There was always the flirtatious bickering, pet names, longing glances, even some fleeting touches from time to time... but this time felt different. It felt heavy, like a thick cloud of smoke circling around you both whenever you were together.

The two of you were currently sat in an empty training room, working on your meditation. You had tried to keep your mind blank but you’re mind was reeling at the thought of the man sat beside you. You knew it was wrong. The jedi code strictly forbids attachments, yet here you were, gaze transfixed on the man that sat across from you. You took in every detail of his beautifully aged face. You wanted to trace each one of his features with the tip of your finger. His lips looking the softest. Honestly, you just wanted to touch all of him but seeing as the code wont allow it and you wouldn’t know what you’re doing anyways, you push those fantasies away. “Some people find it rude to stare, little bird.” His soft voice awoke you from your trance. His eyes were still closed meaning he sensed your gaze through the force. The thought of him catching you staring sent a jolt of embarrassment through your entire being. Heat immediately flooded to your cheeks as you stuttered out an apology, trying to ignore the way the pet name made you feel. “S-sorry Master I didn’t mean to.” He hummed in response keeping his eyes closed and staying in his meditative state. “Something on your mind?” He asks. With how kind spoken and caring he was toward you, it definitely didn’t help the waves of longing and want that washed over you. You contemplated his question for a second. You really wanted his help and his advice but at the same time you were scared if you admitted to whatever was going on inside your head, he’d be upset, ashamed, or even worse disappointed in you as his padawan. You took a deep breath before finally answering. “Actually yes.” You croaked out. More embarrassment filled you as your voice cracked. He barely opens one eye to peak over at you, noticing your nervous tone he opens both his eyes giving you his full attention. “Go on padwan, tell me. Its okay. This is a sacred space and its just you and me here.” He says giving you a warm smile. Kriff. That didnt help the nerves at all. You were about to admit your shameful feelings in a holy room. Where other jedi had learned and trained. You were feeling shameful by the second. You cleared your throat letting your eyes wander over the training room not wanting to meet his gaze. “I-Im conflicted master,” you started, waiting for him to scold you for letting your emotions fog your brain, but the scolding never came. Only another hummed response for you to continue. You sigh glancing down at your hands that were on your lap as you shamefully admitted your guilt. “I know as jedi we aren’t supposed to form attachments but what happens if we cant help it? We weren’t taught how to hide those feelings or to ignore them. We were just kinda told not to have them. It’s easier to ignore the feelings of hate. To not let it consume you but... what about desire?” Your voice was low as you spoke, but loud enough for him to hear. He kept quiet for a second as he processed your words watching you fidget with your robe. The silence killed you but before you could try to change the subject he let out a small chuckle to your surprise. Your head shot up to look at him. He had the softest grin on his face. “Thats whats got you so worked up lately?” He asks letting out another chuckle. You felt more heat find its way up to your neck and cheeks leaving you redder than before. It took everything in you to not run out of the room and back into your quarters. He quickly clears the laughter from his throat taking notice of your panicked expression. “I apologize darling I don’t mean to laugh, I was just worried something bad happened or you were being tempted by the dark side.” He states giving you another genuine smile. You tilted your head in confusion. Isnt desire being tempted by the dark side? You thought. As if he read your mind, he quickly reassures you. “Desire is normal. Its whether or not you let it control you. Jedi are technically allowed to have attachments. Plenty do actually.”

You couldnt fully understand what he was trying to say. “How can they have attachments and not go darkside?” You asked with another tilt of your head. He sighs trying to find a right way to explain it. He uncrosses his legs, finding a more relaxed way to sit and pats the spot next to him. Your tummy fluttered at his invitation and crawled over to sit next to him. Your blush worsened, at the realization of how close the two of you were, your thighs were touching. If he noticed he didn’t mention it. Instead he continued his explanation. “The reason those jedi don’t fall into the darkside is because they don’t let possession over power them. You see its not that attachments are forbidden, its possession. If you let things like desire or love control your decision making then that makes you dangerous.” He hums resting a hand on your own resting on your lap. You stared down at his hand for a second before shyly looking up at him. “So... as long as I dont let it control me... its okay?” You asked making sure you understand. He smiled nodding. “Like I said my dear, its normal.” He confirmed. You let his words sink in and couldn’t help but give a shy smile back to him. “So who’s caught your eye padawan?” He asks, an emotion you couldnt decipher flashed across his face but it was gone as soon as it came. Your eyes widen as you stared up at him, panic and embarrassment filling your chest once more. “W-what? Nobody!” You defended quicker than you intended. He let out a hearty laugh. The sound made your stomach flutter and your thighs tighten together as you watched his Adams apple bob-up and down with the sound. You prayed to the maker that he hadn’t noticed the subtle movement of your legs but the galaxy isn’t on your side right now. He glances down at your thighs from the movement, also taking note of how his had hadn’t left yours. You watch as it clicks in his head. He glances back up at you and raises an eyebrow. Just when you think you couldn’t be more embarrassed. “Oh really?” He hums in a teasing tone, taking your hand and pulling it up to his lips pressing the softest kiss to your knuckles. Your breath hitched at the action. “You sure about that my dear?” He teases once more. You couldnt help but turn your head away from him, feeling sheepish that he had caught you and also for pressing his soft pink lips to the skin of your knuckles. You could feel how his lips formed with the ridges of the bone. He pulls away only to use his other hand to gently hold your face, turning it to face him again. His touch just as kind and gentle as he is. “Don’t be embarrassed little dove. Im actually flattered. In fact, You’ve managed to catch my eye as well.” He smiled leaning in. His lips pressed themselves gently to your cheek. The scruff of his beard tickling your skin forcing you to let out a girlish giggle. The sound only made him smile more. In a quick second he moves both his hands to your hips, picking you up and setting you atop one of his thighs. The movement alone set your body ablaze. All you wanted was him. Right now. Glancing at his lips you slowly leaned in. He met you halfway finally doing what you’ve always dreamt about. Pressing his lips to yours. You melted immediately into the kiss. You let out a soft sigh, giving him the chance to sneak his tongue in and fully tasting you. Your tongues slowly danced with one another for what felt like an hour. You both savored each others taste, soft hums and sighs leaving both of you. You moved your mouth in tandem with his, the act alone felt unbelievably erotic. You’ve kissed before but it was never like this. In all honesty after this, you weren’t even sure if your previous experiences counted as real kisses. You were so lost in the moment that you hadn’t noticed your hips subconsciously rocking themselves on his thigh. You let out a soft whimper when he pulled away. He let out a grunt from the movement. His grip on your hips tightened, not enough to hurt but enough to stop your ministrations. Your head was still dizzy from the kiss that you moved your hands to grip his shoulders.

“W-woah.” You panted softly. He grins reaching up brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’ve never done anything like that before.” You admitted. Your blush coming back when you realized the dampness you felt between your legs. You instantly regret what you said once you saw his expression. He looked down at you with furrowed brows. As if he was putting something together. “You never kissed anyone?” He asked his voice showing slight bewilderment. “No I have... but not... like that.” You explained. He let out a soft ‘oh’ in understanding. The room fell silent for a few minutes before he asked you something you were nervous to answer. “Have you had sex before?” He hummed. You waited a minute before shaking your head in shame. Great just great. Now that he knows you’re a damn virgin he’s gonna leave. He is gonna want someone more experienced. Your negative thoughts flew out the window when you felt him guide your hips on his thigh again. A moan immediately left your lips at the slight pressure applied to your clothed pussy. He hummed in approval and looked at you with a devastatingly handsome smirk you’ve never seen before. You could dream of that face for the rest of your days. “Would you like to?” He asks rubbing gentle circles with his thumbs on your hips, still helping you grind his thigh. You could feel your arousal pool even more through your trousers and onto his own. “Y-you’re not d-disappointed or upset?” You stuttered out trying to focus on forming a sentence rather than the hard on that formed in his own trousers. You felt it brush against your thigh with each grind and roll of your hips. The thought of him being turned on by the situation made you see stars. “Why would I be upset or disappointed?” He hums leaning down to kiss along your neck. You mewled, starting to move your hips on your own. “Cause I’m not experienced and you are... I just wouldn’t know how to please you like other girls would.” You mumbled, your embarrassment and nerves surfacing through your voice. He smiles against your throat before pulling away to look at you. “

“I don’t care that your inexperienced darling, I find it arousing actually, that i get to be the first and only one to pleasure you.” He hums giving you a harsh rock of your hips against his thigh just to prove his point. You weren’t sure if the gasp that left your lips was because of the sudden friction to your clit or to the possessiveness to his words but either way you were putty in his hands. “Besides, I can teach you. You’re a very quick learner.” He smirks continuing to watch your face contort in pleasure as you rode his thigh. Fuck he really knew what he was doing. “What do you say Sweetheart? Wanna quick lesson in pleasure?.” You groan nodding furiously at his words. “Please.” You whined, starting to feel something strange in your abdomen. It was pushing and pulling like tidal waves. You needed more. You had started to ground yourself down onto him hoping to chase the crash of those waves. Before you could even get close he lifted you off him with a grunt, a needy whine from you, he laid you down on your back the training mat hovering over you. “Don’t worry sweetheart, Im gonna make you feel real good. You just lay back and relax.” He hums attaching his lips to your neck again. This time giving soft nips and kitten licks. You could definitely relax like this. This was better than any type of meditation. You felt one of his hands softly caress its way up from your hip to your breast, giving it a firm but gentle squeeze. You whine, pushing your chest put more to encourage him more. He continued pressing open mouthed kisses along your neck, and tenderly groping every part of your body he could with his free hand. Before you knew it, he was untying your robe and stripping you of your pants leaving you bare to him except for your undergarments. You suddenly became self conscious as he stared down at your partly nude form. Your hands coming up to awkwardly lay on your chest, trying to be subtle as you hid from him. He carefully takes your wrists in his hands, pulling them away from your chest. “Dont be shy darling. You’re beyond beautiful. Utterly perfect and glowing.” He smiles leaning down barely pressing his lips to the top of your right breast. You keened at his words. “Please. Take me Obi Please.” You begged, your voice coming out a little more desperate than intended. He chuckled lowly at your eagerness. “Calm down my love. We’ll get there.” The new nickname had your heart soaring. He’d never used that one on you before and you think it might be a new favorite.

He continued kissing along your collarbone and over your breasts. His mouth feeling like a furnace against your skin. Tracing his lips over your nipple, flicking his tongue on the hardening bud before taking it in his mouth. His free hand tenderly massaging your other breast before switching to give them the same treatment. You were a panting mess, lifting your hand to his hair and tugging gently, desperate for more of his touches. His kisses and nips become bolder as he leaves your breast to kiss down towards your stomach. He left a particularly gentle kiss right above the hem of your soaked panties before pulling them off. Your breathing quickened once you realized what he was planning to do. Any insecure thought you had flew out of your mind as he hums appreciatively at the site before him. “I just wanna taste you.” He said quietly almost as if he was saying it to himself. He leans forward licking a long stripe up your slit, testing the waters. A shattered sigh left your lips at the feeling. Pleased with your reaction he dives in, dipping his tongue into your soaked folds. He devoured you like he had never tasted anything like you before. Tasting any slick that seeped from you, his nose nudging against your clit just enough to leave you dangling on the edge. You whined and moaned for him reaching one of your hands to tangle in his hair. The action only served to spur him on. He pushes his tongue into your entrance, seeking out more of your taste. You suddenly became aware through your lust hazed fog that you were grinding on his face. He moans appreciatively, pulling away only for a split second to gently suck on your clit. You cried out for him, words bubbling themselves out of your mouth. “F-fuck, ObiWan- I- Please!” You groan not completely sure what you were begging for but he seemed to understand. He kept his lips latched around your clit, you didn’t even notice him move one of his hands until you felt a finger push inside you. The foreign feeling of one of his digits actually inside you left you speechless. All you could do was lay there and grind your hips on him taking whatever pleasure he gave you. Slowly he added a second finger, pushing both of them in and out of you, letting you get used to the feeling before deciding he needed a change of pace. He moves his fingers in a certain way, almost as if they formed a come hither motion. His mouth on your clit sucking with more intention and vigor. A wanton moan left your lips and you gripped his hair tighter. You’d worried you had hurt him if not for the delicious moan that went straight to your core. He quickens his pace, adding just the right amount of pressure to that spot inside you. It seemed that was the tipping point for you. Those waves you were desperate to chase earlier finally crashed over you, sending small shocks throughout your entire body. The feeling felt like it lasted longer than it should’ve with the help of your skilled Master. He eased his fingers out of you, his tongue still giving your clit kitten licks to ease the aftershock before finally pulling away fully with that devilish smirk plastered on his face. “How was that Sweetheart?” He teased, his beard glistening with your juices. Your mind was blank, still seeing flashes of white behind your eyes as you tried to form a sentence. “G-good. Fuck that was good. Way better than meditation.” You said catching your breath. He chuckled giving you a minute before, helping you up, getting your clothes and helping you get dressed. You would’ve been embarrassed at your still wet thighs if it weren’t for the next thing that left his extraordinary lips. “Why don’t we finish this in my quarters.” He hums as he adjusts the now obvious tent in his pants. You couldnt help but keep your gaze on his clothed member. “Finish?” You stutter out, Your voice cracking a bit. “You didn’t think i was done with you did you little bird?” He quirks a brow at you, his pupils blown with lust. You couldn’t help the excitement that rose in your belly, nor the smile that graced your lips.

(Second part here!)

hey it's my first time requesting so idk if this is the correct way to do it but...

could I request dazai with a darling that always tries to outsmart him (but fails)

Thanks for the request!

Warning for Violence (Blood, Attempts to kill/immobilize), Sexual Content (Boners)

»»———————— ♡ ————————««      

♡ It really only makes you more adorable in his eyes. There you are, grumbling in a corner, hatching your plans, while Dazai watches you with a grin on his face. He knows about the few items you snatched and hid in your pillowcase. Sometimes he ignores them on purpose, so it's a surprise to see what you're up to. But if he does catch a glance, he usually figures out your plans. Sometimes he slips in some bobby pins or the one thing you miss so your plan can work, just to make things more exciting for the both of you before waiting for you to act on it.

♡ Some plans involve merely escaping, Dazai always waiting for you to poke your head out of the chosen door or window, waving and congratulating you for your attempt before stuffing you back inside. The real fun only begins when you start getting physical. Knocking him out, spiking his tea with the meds he provided, and "accidentally" left out in the open. He pretends to be out cold while your hands roam through his pockets, finding nothing but dust and candy while you search for a key. It's something Dazai could get used to, having you explore him so thoroughly, but you always realize much too quickly he's awake, as he can't help his pants from straining against his crotch. When you look up at his face, staring into his wide-open eyes, all he says is, "Oopsie! You got me!"

♡ Getting stabbed is a little annoying, admittedly, but seeing you struggle to actually kill him is all the more exciting for him. You hate him, you want to escape, but you're not a born-and-raised murderer. It doesn't come easily to you to actually slit his throat, but damn, you're so sexy, straddling him, threatening his life with the butterknife he saw you swipe from the breakfast table. His hands roam your legs, hips bucking and making you gasp as you tell him to stop fucking moving. Still, his grin only grows unnervingly wide by the time he reaches your wrists, grabbing them and flipping you over. Before you know it, Dazai has you pinned under him, blood trickling from a shallow cut in his cheeks while he asks if you're ready to die with him, considering how easily you decided to kill him. It awakens the psycho in him, making you wish you wouldn't have acted on this dumb idea.

♡ Even Dazai understands how frustrating it is when nothing ever works, so he occasionally lets you 'win'. It's more of a reward for good behavior or when it's your 'anniversary' with him, but he pretends to mess up, letting you slip from his grasp, counting to ten before pursuing you. It has led to some wonderful chases around town and even through parks and forests, there being no better feeling than finally catching up to you, throwing you against a wall, and through breathless gasps, kissing you until you both almost pass out. Nothing could ever describe the feeling of lifting you up into his arms and carrying you back to his hideout, knowing you are his and can never escape him, no matter how much you try and cry in his arms. It's liberating to know nothing can take you from him, no plan, and no one else, and once the door closes behind your two, he'll get to have fun punishing you like you deserve.

his new high

Warnings: DUB-CON, Organized-Crime, Drug (Shimmer) Use, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness

Summary ~ You soothed his pain in a way shimmer never could, and now he’d rather destroy your dreams than watch you leave his arms.

The first time Silco saw you, it was in the fading light of a backroom chem lab. You were bent over a half-conscious man, stitching his torn arm with mechanical precision. His screams filled the room, curses and desperate pleas, but you remained calm, steady, your voice soothing. There was no hesitation in your movements, no tremor in your hands. You didn’t look up when he entered. Not even when the room fell into that particular kind of silence, the delirious ramblings of the injured man fading as he slipped into unconsciousness. It was the kind of silence that settled when someone powerful walks in.

You didn’t fear him. That was your first mistake.

“Most people flinch,” he said eventually, his voice a smooth rich timber. One eye gleamed with an unsettling interest. The other was ruined, unblinking.

You tied off the final stitch and set the needle aside. “Then most people aren’t busy saving someone’s life.”

Silco smiled, it wasn’t a kind smile.

He started showing up more often, sometimes to have you patch up one of his men, stitch a wound, or set a broken limb. Then came the calls for help with research, concoctions, healing. Gradually, he began to trust you enough to assist him in administering shimmer to his red eye. He always had a reason. But over time, those reasons began to wear thin. You were sharp enough to notice

“You don’t need me, Silco,” you told him one evening, after his lieutenant left with freshly bandaged ribs. “You just want something.”

He stepped closer, the scent of smoke and oil clinging to him, the faint metallic tang of shimmer still lingering around his skin.

“And you’re so sure that’s a bad thing?” he murmured. “Wanting something.”

The obsession wasn’t sudden. It was a drip. Slow. Poisoned.

A package on your desk one morning, a vial of rare solvent, only available in Piltover, wrapped in black silk. A gift of soft velvet-lined gloves, with a note: “To protect your hands. We can’t afford to lose them.”

A word to your landlord, suddenly, your rent dropped to nothing. "Consider it... gratitude," Silco’s voice had been like a velvet noose, tightening around you.

You told yourself you weren’t his. But his people stopped calling you by name. They started calling you Silco’s medic. Then, simply, Silco’s.

He kept coming back. Each time, it was a new wound, a dislocated shoulder, a burned hand, a poisoned operative. But he never left right after. He lingered, watching you as you worked. Sometimes, he brought rare supplies, claiming they were for your patients, but he always insisted on giving them to you directly.

He learned your rhythms. What made you laugh, when you skipped meals, how your brow creased when you were focused, how you chewed your lip when you were uncertain.

And somewhere in that quiet obsession, shimmer began collecting dust.

You never saw the moment it shifted. The moment his need for you went from admiration to something darker. Something possessive. Addictive.

One day, while you were restocking shimmer, you mentioned it, absently. “I’ve applied for a fellowship in Piltover. Medical sciences. If I get in... I’ll be gone for a while.”

The silence that followed was absolute.

You turned slowly, feeling the weight of his gaze, a cold burn against your skin. Silco was staring at you like you’d just ripped the breath from his lungs.

Piltover. The word alone was bile in his mouth.

“You want to leave?” he asked, too calm, like it was a simple question.

“For a year. Maybe two.”

“For them?”

“No. For me.”

He stepped closer. You could feel the heat of him now, the tension building between you. “You don’t need that. Everything you’ve built ... we've built, it’s here. These people need you. I need—”

He stopped himself, like he was choking on the words.

You stared. “You need...?”

He looked away, jaw clenched, before answering coldly, “The undercity needs you.”

But the lie hung in the air, thick and suffocating, like smoke.

After that, things changed. The guards around your clinic doubled. Your mail stopped arriving.

And one morning, you found a letter from the Academy , torn at the seal, empty, discarded in your trash bin.

You confronted him, and he didn’t even pretend to be innocent.

“You belong here,” he said, they will use you. Break you. Strip you of everything that makes you... you.”

“And you won’t?” you shot back.

He stepped closer. So close that you could feel his breath on your lips. “No,” he whispered. “I’ll worship you.”

“You belong here,” he repeated, the words trembling with a quiet madness that sent a chill skittering down your spine. “With the undercity. With me. Piltover would ruin you.....strip away everything that makes you… you.”

“Ruin me?” you shot back, your voice rising as you took a defiant step toward him. “You’re the one caging me! The guards, the missing mail, this—” You thrust the torn letter toward him, your hand shaking. “You don’t get to decide my life!”

His lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile, a dangerous glint in his eye. “Don’t I?” he murmured, closing the gap between you with a predator’s grace. The heat of his body was suffocating, the scent of him, smoke, oil, and that faint metallic tang, wrapping around you like a chain. His hand rose, fingers brushing your cheek with a tenderness that felt like a lie, a trap disguised as affection. “Everything I’ve done, the rare solvents, the gloves, your rent, it was for you. Because you’re mine.”

You jerked away, but the examination table pressed against the backs of your thighs, cold and unyielding, trapping you in his orbit. “I’m not yours,” you said, your voice wavering despite your resolve. “I’m not some… thing you can own, Silco. This is obsession, it’s not love. It’s control.”

His hand froze, his expression flickering...pain, anger, then something deeper, more unhinged. “Control?” he echoed, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “No, my dear. It’s devotion.” He stepped closer, his body crowding yours, his breath hot against your lips. “You’ve felt it, haven’t you? The way we fit. The way you calm the storm inside me.” His fingers slid to the nape of your neck, tangling in your hair, not pulling but holding you in place, anchoring you to him. “You’re my salvation.”

Your heart pounded, a traitor that refused to still. You wanted to push him away, to scream, but his proximity, the raw intensity of his gaze, stirred something within you, fear, yes, but also a flicker of something else, something you couldn’t name. “You’re wrong,” you said, but the words lacked conviction, your voice barely above a whisper. His thumb brushed the pulse point at your throat, and you hated the way your body responded, a shiver racing through you, warm and treacherous.

“Liar,” he purred, his lips grazing your ear, sending a jolt of heat straight to your core. “You’ve never flinched from me before, not when you stitched my men, not when you held my gaze while dosing my eye. Why now?” His hand tightened in your hair, tilting your head back, exposing the vulnerable curve of your throat. His lips brushed there, a fleeting kiss that made you gasp, your hands instinctively grabbing his coat, unsure whether to push or pull. “Because you know what I want… and part of you wants it too.”

“No,” you said, louder, shoving against his chest. But he was immovable, a wall of lean muscle and unshakable will. His free hand slid beneath your shirt, fingers splaying across the bare skin of your waist, possessive and warm. The touch was electric, and you shuddered, caught between revulsion and a spark that flickered low in your belly. “Silco, stop,” you said, your voice trembling. “This isn’t right.”

His eyes softened for a moment, a glimpse of the man who’d once brought you rare supplies, who’d watched you work with quiet reverence. But the darkness surged back, drowning that fleeting light. “Right?” he murmured, his voice a low growl that vibrated through you. “Nothing in this world is right. But you… you’re perfect.” His lips crashed against yours, not gentle but desperate, hungry, as if he could consume you, bind you to him through sheer force of will.

You turned your head, breaking the kiss, but he didn’t stop. His mouth moved to your jaw, your neck, leaving a trail of bruising kisses that drew a whimper from your lips. His hand slid higher, pushing your shirt up to expose the soft skin of your stomach, his fingers tracing the curve of your ribs with a reverence that belied the coercion. “Silco, please,” you said, but the words were a plea, not a command, and he heard it.

“You say no, but your body begs for me,” he whispered, his voice thick with triumph. His hand cupped your breast through the thin fabric of your undershirt, his thumb brushing over your nipple, coaxing it to a peak. He groaned against your skin, the sound raw and primal, and you hated the way it sent a pulse of heat between your thighs. “You’re mine,” he said, his fingers slipping beneath the fabric, his touch both gentle and demanding, a paradox that left you dizzy.

You pushed at him again, but your hands faltered, your resolve fraying under the onslaught of sensation. His other hand moved lower, deft fingers unbuttoning your pants, slipping inside to find you already wet, a betrayal that made him groan low in his throat. “See?” he said, his voice a dark caress. “You want this. You want me.”

Tears stung your eyes as you shook your head, but your body was a traitor, responding to his touch with a heat you couldn’t deny. His fingers teased you, slow and deliberate, coaxing pleasure you didn’t want to feel. “Silco, please,” you said, but the words were softer now, your voice breaking as he pushed you toward an edge you didn’t want to cross.

“Tell me you want this,” he said, pulling back to meet your gaze, his good eye dark with need, the ruined one a void that seemed to swallow your protests. “Tell me, and I’ll make it good for you.”

You stared at him, torn between the fear in your heart and the heat in your body. “I…” you started, but the words caught in your throat. You didn’t know what you wanted. The uncertainty was a crack in your armor, and Silco seized it.

He kissed you again, softer this time, but no less possessive, his tongue exploring your mouth as his fingers worked you, pushing you closer to a precipice. When he pulled back, he lifted you onto the examination table, the cold metal biting into your bare skin, baring you to his hungry gaze. His hands were everywhere, on your thighs, your hips, your breasts, claiming every inch of you as he spread your legs and stepped between them.

His trousers were already undone, his cock hard and heavy against your thigh, and you gasped, your hands clutching at his shoulders, unsure whether you were pulling him closer or pushing him away. “I’ll worship you,” he whispered, his voice breaking as he positioned himself at your entrance. He entered you slowly, deliberately, each inch a claim, a promise, a curse. You gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders as he filled you, the stretch both painful and intoxicating.

He moved with a reverence that belied the coercion, his thrusts deep and measured, his hands cradling your face as if you were something precious, something sacred. “You’re mine,” he said, his voice a low chant as he drove into you, each movement pushing you closer to an edge you couldn’t escape. And as pleasure built despite your protests, you felt yourself unraveling, giving in to the storm that was Silco, his touch, his voice, his obsession.

He didn’t shoot shimmer anymore.

He had traded one addiction for another.

You were his new high now.

Kinkuary ~ Day 16

yandere!s. tomura

warning(s): gun play, degradation, bondage, mentions of stalking, violence, oral sex (receiving), dub/non-con.

genre: smut, holiday special

summary: Shigaraki had been watching you for a while, it was only fair that you give him a good treat for making him wait so long.

sav’s kinkuary fucklist: @well-a-pear-antly, @kingtamakimurder, @ultralovingflowercollectorthings, @chimckennungets, @lordexplosionsextra, @thatonesgremlinshrimp, @strawberryandspiceandchocolate@boku-no-haikyuu, @animexreaders, @humanitysfandomhoe, @karebear5118​ @ask-bestboah-arthur​ (hmu to get on/missed your @!)

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if a hot evil villain tried to seduce me to the dark side i would simply say fuck yes

Where’s My Language App? [Yandere Shigaraki x Reader]

Title: Where’s My Language App? [Yandere Shigaraki x Reader]

Synopsis: You don’t know who he is. You don’t even know what he’s saying.

Just a short lil thing inspired by some recent posts from @stupid-sloot-headcanons​ on a darling with a language barrier.

Word Count: 1722

Notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, English-speaking reader/language barrier

You don’t know who he is. You don’t know why he took you. You don’t even know what he’s saying. Not that he’s said all that much since you woke up in a dimly lit room, arms bound in front of you tightly with rope that has gone from itchy to uncomfortable and now bordering on painful as your circulation has waned.

It’s been… three days? Four? You’re not sure. There’s nothing to accurately measure time with. Only the comings and goings of the man who kidnapped you, which don’t seem marked by any particular time of day, give you any sense of time passing.

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The Hierophant - Day 6

Day 6: Professor / Student

Aizawa x F!Reader

Word count: 3.1k

Kinks: Professor / Student, Public sex

Notes: The banner was edited by me, photo can be found here. If you would like to be tagged in future fics of mine and writing events, comment with the url tag you would like me to use on this post!

Tags: @redbeanteax​, @cherrycolabomb​, @dabilove27​, @aly-insanity​, @khemz1312​, @violeteyesandpurplehair​, @mattiekins​, @bnhaxxassociates​, @winterpersimmons​, @xkatiex​, @thirstyforthem2dmen​, @katsontherun

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Professor Aizawa’s office looked just as anyone would expect from him: plain, practical and with no sign of personal touches. His office was purely for work and that was it. Every inch was nondescript, white walls, bare of all decoration. Even his desk was unimpressive, only sporting some tests from a previous class he was grading with a glaring red pen and a computer. You swept your eyes over the small pile of papers, catching sight of a very familiar test with very familiar hand writing.

You gulped.

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your anime husband greeting you in the morning- shirtless and in low slung sweatpants, holding out a cup of coffee or tea for you, a soft smile on his face and a raspy, “good morning sugar.”

obsessed with that face tops make when they accidentally discover a weak spot of yours or a kink of yours through something they did. that little surprised face and then the WICKED grin and then they say some shit like “oh? so you like this? yeah?” and then they do it again??? it gets to me every time on god

hi hello m also here to leave a smol hc for your event ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

nanami who frequents a specific bakery, tells everyone that it’s for this new stuffed pastry he likes when they ask, but little do they know that his favorite pastry is the new ‘n sweet little baker in town that he personally gets to stuff<33 - 🍡

nanamin's guilty pleasure

400 follower event entry #1

pairing: nanami kento x reader

genre: smut

warnings: f!reader. age gap. smut! semi-public (bakery backroom). sloppy quickie. creampie. slight!breeding kink. pet name (baby). slight!cumplay.

"hey, nanamin," gojo calls after his blonde colleague, eyes training on the latter as he sits behind a desk, "what do you like so much about that bakery?"

nanami's head lifts up, glancing at gojo who's so comfortably leaning against the doorframe, and he knows that his coworker can't see the irritation in his eyes behind his glasses, but he wishes he could.

"just curious," gojo chuckles, "i stopped by the other day, and it doesn't seem all that interesting to –"

"pastries," nanami replies, cutting the other male short, and the lie slips off his tongue so well, like he's practiced it a thousand times, "stuffed pastries are my… guilty pleasure."

stuffed pastries. sure. the pastries are good, great even – but the pastries are nothing compared to you, when you're bent over and dripping with his cum over in the bakery's back room.

he's got two fingers – index and middle – shoved into your mouth, pressing down against your tongue and vibrating as you mewl and groan with every delicious thrust of his hips into yours, every rut of his aching cock into your plush heat.

"feels so good for me," he praises you, and you try to smile around his fingers, blissed out and so grateful to be his fuck-toy, to help him through his daily frustrations. you're whining, tears streaming down your pretty face and dripping off your chin and onto his warm hand that holds your face in place.

"mmmh – 'namin, s'good!"

you're slurring his name, spewing absolute nonsense as you clench around his length and drip down into the dainty lace panties that dangle around your thighs, panties you bought to show off to him. he's sweating more than he sweats in battle as he fucks into you, groaning with every time your walls contract around him, and you whimper incoherently as he fucks you stupid. he can feel every flutter of your walls, every squeeze that means you're getting a little closer, and he ruts harder and harder against that good, sweet spot that makes you cry out and see stars.

"c'mon, baby," he urges you weakly, because he knows you're so, so close, and he knows he is, too, and he's praying you'll cum around his cock before he cums inside of you, "cum for me, know you want to, can feel it."

"w'nna cum, 'namin, w'nna cum s'bad – oh, fuck, please, please, please, lemme cum!"

you yelp, choking as his huge hand wraps around your throat, tugs you up higher and bullies his hard cock deeper into you, fucking you harder and faster, chasing the high that he can feel building up in his belly, and you're gasping and whimpering as your back hits his chest, head buried in his shoulder, and his heavy balls slap against your clit with every rut.

"so good for me," nanami whispers, words of praise sending waves of pleasure all the way through your slicked-up cunt that squelches with every thrust, the sounds and smells of sex occupying each and every one of your senses, "gonna fill you up as a reward, baby, nice and full of my cum."

the waves are crashing harder, the pleasure hitting you over and over, taking over your vision and sending your eyes rolling back into your head, and you squeal –

"ooh, f-fuck, 'namin –"

and then the bough breaks, your two-man ship colliding with the shore and shattering on impact, and you're gaping like a fish out of water, mouth open in a silent scream – and as you cum, cunt fluttering around him and milking him for all he's worth, so does he; spurts of pearly white cum shooting into your pussy and dripping, lewd squelching sounds filling the room, as he thrusts into you, fucking you through your orgasm and gently pressing you down on the break table before you, drowning in your whines.

"f-fuck," you whimper out, and nanami chuckles as he waits for your cunt to stop clenching around him, waits for you to breathe evenly, before he slowly pulls his cock out of your cunt – and then he stares.

the sight is enough to make him hard all over again, watching your cunt flutter, dripping his cum so lewdly, and he can't help running a finger down your slit, collecting the cum and using a single digit to push the sticky mess back into you.

"n-no, 's sore, 'namin –"

"i know, baby, i know," he chuckles, leaning down to tug your panties back up your thighs, "can't help it, 's so cute, hmm?"

you chuckle at the sweetness of his tone, glance up weakly to see him staring down at you the same way as he adjusts his pants, buckles his belt, and he smiles softly, whispers hoarsely, "need a coffee?"

"that would be nice, yeah," you say meekly, and he nods. "coffee machine's –"

"in the front, i know," nanami chuckles, reaching for his glasses that he keeps in his blazer pocket, "not our first rodeo."

you giggle at that, thank him quietly as he helps you stand up straight, kisses your forehead, and gently sits you down on a chair. you watch him leave the backroom with his shirt untucked, looking oh-so untidy, and you smile tenderly.

nanami, however, enters the front room and stills as he stands behind the counter. his mouth goes dry, and he frowns.

"stuffed pastries," gojo, leaning against the counter with a wide, devilish grin on his face, "i get it now."

bunny's taglist: @bihwhatever2 @mssuguru @feral-creep @thechroniclesofawriter @xsmilesx @amethyst-bunny @kageyama-i-want-tobiors