He's So Sexy - Tumblr Posts
album release | requested
⤑ series: strawberry kisses
⤑ pairing: rapper!jungkook x photographer!reader
⤑ genre: smut, angst, fluff
⤑ word count: 3.2K
⤑ warnings: cursing, slight dirty talk, dry humping, oral sex (f. & m. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), edging?? (idk jeongguk does it to himself so :/)
⤑ A/N: really, really missed writing these guys! hope this reads well for everyone, kind of a bonus but it was requested! sooo if you want more strawberry kisses updates (i miss them :() just send in a request!
Keep reading
masterlist: guarded
you’ve tried to separate yourself from your infamous crime family, but a new case has your carefully-constructed world crashing down around you. now you have to figure out how to heal old wounds and handle the new man who enters your orbit.
Chapter One: Fan Mail
Chapter Two: I’m Screwed
Chapter Three: Exotic Pets
Chapter Four: Cham-pain
Chapter Five: Italian Leather Gloves
Chapter Six: No One But You
Chapter Seven: Epilogue
part two: guilty | knj x reader
my man (pls choke me with those arms)
my man my man my man 😋💕
this is how Rafe looks at you after morning sex and you’re laying on the bed all fucked out and spacey
I’d love your thoughts on dilf Hawks 😍
DILF! HAWKS is a fox in sheeps clothing. he's retired from his hero days but he's just as strong as he use to be. he's got a bit more scruff round his his face and his hair is longer but he's still got that cheeky smile. prefers flying you to your destinations so he can dodge the paparazzi. teasing kisses and wandering hands, he can't help himself when it comes to you. "what? I ain't doing anything. don't tell me you're getting worked up from a few touches." very, very possessive of you, especially when strangers try hitting on you. the type to spread his wings out to their full length, effectively blocking the person trying their luck, shooting you a cheeky grin. "you were saying, darling?" he can be cocky at times but his entire facade falls apart when you've got him stuffed down your throat and his hands tied behind his back. loves it when you take control of his pleasure, he'll sing the prettiest whines for you if you tug at his hair <3
DILF ME UP!
tags: yakuza!suna/escort!reader the prequel(ish), icymi here's PART 1 + PART 2
The car pulls up along the back of the club just past ten o’clock.
It had rained earlier in the evening, though you'd fortunately missed most of the shower. The world passing outside the windows of the car is still soaked with it, and puddles pool in the divots of the road as the water trickles slowly towards the storm drains that line the street.
“Thank you, Toma,” you say to your driver as you reach for the handle to let yourself out, and in the front seat the kindly man dips his head in response.
“Would you like me to wait to drop you home?” he asks, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror positioned along the highest centre point of the windshield. “I haven’t got another ride for a half an hour.”
“I have to drop my take-home off to the office and get my payout, and the trains are still running, but thank you,” you assure him with a shake of your head. You smile at him in the rearview mirror as you pop the door open. You hesitate just before you slip out, leaning up towards the front seat. “Drive safe tonight.”
You have to step around puddles as you approach the staff entrance to the club, the water collecting every few steps along the craggy surface of the alley. You hear a voice filtering down the dingy alleyway from up ahead, and it makes you slow ever so slightly. It’s familiar, and as you round the corner to the door, you recognize why.
Kaito stands just beside the metal door with ‘STAFF ENTRANCE ONLY’ emblazoned across it peeling white paint. He’s ditched the suit jacket you’d seen him wearing earlier in the evening, left in his black dress shirt with the first few buttons undone and his sleeves pushed up to his elbows. The flickering light above the door catches on the garish chain he wears around his neck, glinting at you as Kaito holds his cellphone up to his ear, lost in his conversation.
“Of course, sir. I understand,” he says, and though his voice is as insincerely pleasant as ever, his face is contrastingly grim—the affectation of charm extending only to that which the caller on the other line is able to witness. You watch as Kaito pushes a hand through his carefully-styled hair in frustration, tousling the dark strands, squeezing his eyes shut. “It’s not last minute at all, I’ll make sure our very best girls are available once he arrives.”
You pause upon overhearing that particular snippet of his phone call, your heels clicking to a stop on the unevenly cobbled path, and Kaito’s eyes crack open once he senses your approach.
“Very well, I’ll be sure to be at the entrance to greet him myself. Have a good evening, sir.”
Kaito ends the call, his eyes still on you.
“You’re back,” he remarks, acknowledging you once he tucks his phone into the pocket of his dress pants—his voice is so different now to what it had been only seconds prior that he may as well be a different person entirely. He plucks out the cigarette tucked behind his ear and holds it to his lips, fishing a lighter out from his pocket. “Early, isn’t it?”
“Right on schedule, actually,” you reply, snapping out of your momentary stupor and approaching the door as the lighter clicks to life. “I was meeting with Suzuki-san this evening.”
Suzuki is one of your longest-standing regulars: a successful businessman in his mid-60s whose wife passed away a few years prior, and whose children have all grown and moved away. He takes you to dinner once a week, and your appointments are never anything more than that. He’s lonely, you realized quickly after meeting him, and the way his face lights up when you arrive at whatever restaurant he’s reserved for the evening makes your stomach ache a little too much to ever really enjoy the food.
“That old sucker?” Kaito’s eyes widen, the corner of his mouth twisting upward in an almost cruel way. “Still paying you to play footsie with him at dinner after all this time.”
You frown, shooting Kaito a withering look as you reach for the staff door to step inside. He ignores your glare, and you watch with a feeling of abject dread as an idea comes to him.
“Hey,” he says, his hand suddenly coming to rest against the peeling paint and forcing the door closed before you can properly open it. The acrid smell of his cigarette smoke is overwhelming with him this close to you, and it makes your nose scrunch up. “You should stay late tonight.”
“Can’t,” you reply flatly, angling your body away from his. “I’m just here for payout.”
Kaito huffs at your immediate refusal. “I’ll make it worth your while,” he tries again.
“I can’t,” you repeat yourself, holding firm.
He narrows his eyes, and you watch as he considers how he should reply. He rolls his eyes a bit and eventually backs off, taking a long drag from his cigarette. “Whatever.”
You open the door and step inside without any further words passing between you.
In the main office, you hand in the envelope of cash Suzuki-san had pressed into your palm after walking you back to Toma and the waiting car outside the restaurant. The disinterested man in the office—you never manage to keep track of who’s who with how frequently the faces change around here—takes the cash and counts it in another room, even though you'd already triple checked for yourself on the drive back to the club. You wait there with your arms crossed over your chest for him to bring you back a slip of paper that would outline how much you’d earned that week and what was deposited directly into your bank account, and your heel taps against the dingy tile as the minutes tick past.
The back office of the club is far less flashy than the interiors of the lounge a few hundred metres and some staircases away. In fact, the interiors tend to deteriorate in luxury the further outwards you move from the epicentre of activity—the club and the private rooms that are attached to it are the height of luxury, the suites that line the south end of the building slightly less impressive in their quality, and finally the administrative rooms and various other spaces that only the staff ever visit like this one are completely unremarkable. Looking around the shabby, disorganized office you wouldn’t even know the kind of business it’s running.
Maybe that’s the point, you can’t help but think.
As you wait for the nameless man to return with your pay stub, you hear a sound from the hallway outside the open office door. It’s slight, but familiar—the sound of a sniffle. It makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up.
It’s not unusual to hear a woman crying around here.
You quickly turn your back to the door, trying your very best to ignore it. That’s what you’ve learned to do over the years, after all. But the sobbing becomes less ignorable, more noticeable, and before you can think better of it you’re stepping out of the office towards the sound.
Around the corner from the office, next to a supply closet, you find a small girl hunched in on herself in a sparkling pink cocktail dress.
It’s Mini—at least, that’s the name she goes by around here since the girls rarely use their real names in this place, for good reason.
She’s young, maybe 20 if you had to guess generously, and had only been working at the club for a few week as a server mostly: circling the busy floor of the bar area and bringing patrons their drinks. She’s a bright, bubbly girl, and she’s taken a shine to you for whatever reason after only a few shifts where your paths have crossed.
“Hey,” you call to her, and it seems to startle her a bit, jolting when she hears the sound of your voice.
Her mascara is running down her cheeks as she lifts her face to look up at you, and her nose has gone bright pink even underneath the layer of makeup she wears. At the sight of you, she starts to cry harder, crushing herself unexpectedly against your chest. You’re not sure what to do, so you pat a little awkwardly along her back in a vague attempt to comfort her.
“What’s wrong?” you ask her, hoping your voice isn’t quite as stiff as the rest of your body is.
“K-k-kaito just pulled m-me off the f-f-f-floor,” she wails, the final word drawing out in a warbling little cry.
Your jaw sets as she struggles to compose herself, pulling herself away from you after another moment of tears.
"Why?"
“He told me”—Mini swipes at her running nose with the back of her hand, sniffling wetly—“told me there’s a private party coming in. He’s rounding up as many girls as he can for it and sending them into one of the private lounges.”
Mini hasn’t been at the club long, and has never worked a private party. You both realize what it means for her, without it needing to explicitly be said. Evidently the premise has her frightened.
You really have no right to be as angry as you are, but that doesn't change the fury you feel rolling in the pit of your stomach.
Or stop you from doing what you do next.
You find Kaito in his office on the other side of the building.
“Who’s this private party?” you ask him once he answers the sharp rap you land against his door and he calls you in.
Kaito glances up from his desk. He’s got his suit jacket on again, and he’s fixed his hair—back to his usual self. He looks a little surprised to see you standing in his office doorway, especially as pissed off as you are.
He quirks a brow. “What’s it to you?”
You bite the tip of your tongue in an attempt to temper the flare of irritation searing through you.
“I don’t think Mini’s ready to work a private party.”
“Who?” he asks, and the worst part is you know he means it, leaning back in his chair. His brow furrows as you stare at him.
Your lips part to explain, but he cuts you off before any words come out.
“Doesn’t matter anyway,”—he waves his hand disinterestedly—“I need girls and she’s on shift. We’ve got a very important patron coming in who needs a selection to choose from, and half our best girls are already booked out tonight—or refuse to stay late.”
He tacks on that last part just for your sake.
Your teeth clench.
“So you’re just gonna send a bunch of rookies in there?” you ask him. “What kind of impression is that supposed to make to this very important patron?”
He shrugs. “Beggars can’t be choosers.”
You’re not sure who the beggar in this situation is supposed to be.
You grind your heel into the tile of his office floor as you sift through your thoughts.
“How many girls do you need?” you finally ask him, the question hissing out through gritted teeth.
He grins, seeing the cracks forming in your armour even from the other side of the room.
“Depends,” he replies flippantly.
“On what?” you ask him flatly.
He leans forward across his desk with a sharp smile pulling at his lips.
“On if I’m going for quantity or quality.”
In the end, Kaito agrees not to send any of the inexperienced girls into the private room. Instead, there will only be five girls, all relatively experienced, who this unexpected guest that Kaito seems so insistent on catering to will get to choose from.
You agree to be one of them.
You touch up your makeup in one of the dressing rooms before heading towards the designated lounge. It’s one of the nicest private rooms in the building: large, quiet, and with it’s own small mini-bar that’s kept well stocked to minimize any interruptions—another testament to just how keen Kaito is to pull out all the stops for this mystery patron.
You’re not dressed how you usually would be a lounge shift like this—much less a private booking. The dress you’d worn to dinner with Suzuki-san is a little too tasteful for the role you’re about to assume. Mini had kindly offered to let you borrow one of the spares she’d brought to work with her after she found you freshening yourself up (and conveyed her relief at being spared the private party,) but you declined—not least of all because of your very different body types. Your quiet hope was that you’d get there, pale in comparison to one of the other girls who were better suited for the occasion, and ultimately be able to continue home like you ought to have already been by now, this whole situation an unfortunate—but only momentary—road block.
The other girls are already gathered in the room when you arrive, with drinks in their hands and glossy lips and beautiful, skin-tight dresses on their frames. You greet them quietly, accepting a glass of champagne that’s placed into your hands by one of the girls you’re closest to—a tall, stunning woman who goes by the name of Yuki.
“Any idea who this high roller is that Kaito’s kissing ass for tonight?” she asks you as you take a sip from your drink. Yuki had cut the drink with soda water, you realize it right away as the muted taste of effervescent wine reaches your tongue. It’s a welcomed trick that you yourself have been known to employ of many occasions, a tactic used to keep your wits about you without seeming like you’re turning down a drink while you work a long shift.
You can’t help but lament the fact that you really could use a proper drink right about now.
“No,” you tell her quietly, fiddling with the thin stem of the champagne flute between your fingers. “He didn’t say.”
“Must be someone good,” Sakura, another working girl whose long hair is tinted a pretty shade of pink that suits her name, chimes in from the other side of the room where she’s draped across the tufted sofa.
You wonder if she’s right about that, because an unpleasant feeling creeping over you is telling you the opposite.
The girls chat quietly amongst themselves as you all wait for the arrival of the much-anticipated guest, and you continue sipping your watered down champagne as you rest perched on the arm of a chair along one side of the room.
You should already be home by now. Should already have scrubbed the day from your skin and slipped into a pair of soft cotton pyjamas. You should be sitting on your sofa watching a movie, or reading the last chapter of the book you’d had to tear yourself away from to come to work that afternoon, or even be curled up in your bed asleep. You’re bitter to still be within the walls of the club, to still be maintaining the character you’re paid to play, and you chew the inside of your cheek as you stew in this resentment—so much so that you almost miss the door to the lounge swing open.
Your eyes flicker up as the rest of the girls stand in greeting.
You’re the last to rise from your seat.
Behind Kaito is a man you’ve never seen before, his apathetic stare sweeping lazily around the room as Kaito rambles on about something you don’t care to listen to. The guest doesn’t seem to either.
He has dark hair that reaches a little longer than the top of his ears, and an expression on his face that doesn’t seem to imply that he’s any happier to be here than you are. He has a bandage on his cheek, the skin around it still red enough to imply the injury is fresh, and a cut on his lip that looks like it could bleed again at any moment. He’s dressed in black—a turtleneck, under a long coat, over a pair of trousers, all in the same shade. His hands are shoved into his pockets to complete his general air of indifference.
His eyes land on you just as you make it up to your feet, and the way his attention lingers on you for a moment longer than it had the rest of the girls makes you want to curse under your breath. Your attempt to go unnoticed has already started off on the wrong foot, and the man isn’t even fully across the threshold yet.
Your eyes meet—properly meet—and for a moment you hold your breath.
“Ladies,” Kaito says, that saccharine, ingratiating tone you hate so much the thickest you’ve ever heard it in his voice. “This is Suna Rintarou”
The man’s eyes are still on you.
“I’m sure you’ll see to it that he has a very memorable evening.”
My Professor's Final Spring Praise ༄ K. Nanami
"Before my summer break officially started, I had to finish my last in-person exam with Professor Nanami. It was so tough, but I made it through! I was the last to leave, so I thanked the professor and shared some final words before heading to my dorm to finish packing up. However, how do a few gratitude and praise exchanges end up with me on his desk and him between my legs?"
A/n: Yessirrrrrr!! First work of my very first series!! I'm very nervous about this as this is the first time committing to writing consecutively for a specific theme, but I got faith in myself!! Also, it's Nanami and my birthday!!!ヾ( ˃ᴗ˂ )◞ • *✰ So as soon as this is posted, I'm signing off and enjoying my day with my hubby Kento~ (sike I'm not, just gonna hang with friends, lol). But anyways, I hope y'all enjoy this piece, and thank you so very much for 1k followers~~~!!! Not my best work, but it's a decent start for the series! >:D (will proofread l8r tmrw)
Series m. list!! This entry has been updated along w/ its contents.
Cw: professor! Nanami x fem! reader - explicit content so minors DNI - taboo (consensual sex b/w a professor & undergrad) - age difference (the reader is at least in their 20s; Nanami approaching early 30s) - fingering (fem! receiving) - cunnilingus - semi-missionary position (reader lies on their back on a table while Nanami stands) - public sex/sex in a university classroom - unprotected sex (PSA: wrap it up, or get the fuck up) - pining if you squint - praise - pet names (baby, darling, love, sweet pea) - clitoral play (licking and sucking) - kissing/makeout sessions.
Wc: 3.4k
Dear Diary...it's been a long while since I had to come to you as an outlet for my thoughts. But something happened today that caused my mind to go rampant, and I need to rely on you again...
Today is supposed to be the best day of the year. You just finished taking your last in-person exam, you were able to finish packing up all your stuff, and you're now ready to kiss this campus goodbye until the upcoming fall season.
You could not wait to start your summer plans. Not only will you work in the internship you've been hoping to get into since last semester, but you'll finally have ample time to hang with your best friends ever — Yuuji, Megumi, and Nobara!
The summer break has been the end goal for the four of you, and now that your finals are finally over, there's no stopping you from enjoying the season to the best you can!
However, as much as you say you're excited, it doesn't correlate to your actual feelings at this point in time. Something happened that altered your entire perception of what the future was supposed to be.
Something so out of the ordinary that you don't know how to properly feel or think about the situation.
Something so out of the ordinary that you turn to a diary to let your thoughts out, alone in your shared dorm room when all the other roommates have left earlier in the week.
Something so completely out of the ordinary that it sends chills down your spine just reminiscing the moment before sitting at this exact desk writing about what transpired earlier.
It all started when I went to my last in-person exam with Yuuji, where everyone else was waiting for the professor...
You and Yuuji had the same Biology class to take care of one of your science credits, and the exam was to take place on the last day of finals week. Although you've been told it's not supposed to be a difficult test — it's a bunch of multiple questions, short answers, and one essay — the exam period starts from 6 p.m. to 9 p.m. Three hours of endless testing was enough to put you, Yuuji, and all the other classmates in shambles, embracing guaranteed failures and having no idea how to study.
Luckily, a true saint descended from above to bless you and your peers with a professor who knows what he's doing and is patient enough to lead you to the right path. Your professor, Kento Nanami, was relatively young enough to connect with his fellow students but held a well-mannered and stern cadence that gained the respect and admiration of those around him. He was able to steer you guys into a secure approach to your studying: taking in questions, making study guides for quizzes and midterms, and highlighting significant areas from the textbook throughout the semester that will be shown on today's exam.
So through all the diligent preparation and practical labs you've attended, you feel way more confident with the material than at the start of the semester. Can't say the same for Yuuji, who's more nervous than you (with his three unexcused absences and constantly coming to you for help). But as long as y'all are suffering together, that's all that matters.
The only problem is that the exam is sectioned into three parts — sixty multiple-choice questions that are one point each, ten short answer questions that are also one point each, one mix-and-match portion, and the essay is ten whole points by itself (twenty if you can answer five bonus questions afterward). So, off the bat, everyone understands why three hours are given to complete the exam. But Professor Nanami said, "You all should be fine because it doesn't necessarily have to take you all three hours to complete. So if you finish early, you can get outta here." Say less.
So once you entered the usual classroom with Yuuji, you followed through and sat distant from each other at the same table. The professor came on time as always, instructing the class on where to get the exam on the class website, giving the password to unlock it, and wishing you luck.
The only sounds in the space were people clicking their keyboards, sighs, and groans, and people packing up to leave after submitting their exams before thanking their professor for a great semester. Soon the number of students would thin out, leaving just you and Yuuji still completing your exam.
Yuuji finished at the two-hour mark, releasing an extended sigh of relief before hurriedly stuffing his laptop in his backpack. He goes down to thank and bear hug the professor. And you giggle at the expression of Nanami's dismay because he would've sufficed with a simple handshake like the other students. But that's what makes Yuuji an anomaly to the mass, being exceptionally himself no matter where or who he's with. The salmon-haired boy walks up and wishes you luck, going to his dorm to pack the last of his things and promising to pick you up when you're done.
And then it was just you and him: the professor standing at the podium in front of the classroom, reading a book while you finish the last bonus questions before submitting it on the class site. You sigh heavily, and a massive wave of relief washes over you. You did it. You handled all your exams. You're finally free!
"Finished?" You look for where the voice comes from. The professor looks up from his book at your figure.
You place your laptop in your bag and stand up from your seat. It took you twenty more minutes just to finish compared to Yuuji. "Yup! It wasn't so bad like you said, but I had more trouble with the bonus questions than everything else." You stretch your arms and legs.
Nanami chuckles at your feedback. "I see. I did say the bonus questions would be more lab-based. Good thing those who couldn't make it to some of the labs got to see me so I could help them or assign them with the other students who missed."
"You mean like Yuuji?" You walk up to the podium to be in front of your professor. "Because the poor guy couldn't make it to some of the labs because of club activities."
"Yes, Itadori is one of those students." Nanami smiles at the mention of the salmon-haired other. "He's undoubtedly a hard-working student, asking questions and enjoying the lectures. But that's for when he is in the class."
You chuckle as the subtle shade at your friend. "He does try, though! All the times we've studied together since this exam shows that he wanted to put his whole heart into this class. Not to mention that you're secretly his favorite teacher~." You mention the last part hoping it sparks something in the professor, and you're glad to see that the older man releases a wee chortle at the tiny piece of information.
"Hmm, well, I appreciate his enthusiasm and that he was deeply interested in the class. However," your professor closes his book and walks to the side of the podium, erasing an imaginary barrier between the two of you. "You also play a huge part in his engagement. He's lucky to have a friend like you."
Your brows trench, but a smile creeps past your conscious. "What makes you say that?"
"You've been a particular student in my class. Not only are you an easy grader, but you capture the material so well that Itadori trusts you enough to help him when I'm not available to do so. Anytime you ask me a question, it's always outside the textbook or linked to something you looked into outside the lectures."
The smile on your face grows large, and you look away to shield it from his vision. "Thank you, Professor Nanami."
"I won't be surprised if I check the grades later and see that you got an excellent grade." He removes his glasses and places them on the podium with his book. "I'd also suggest you consider minoring in this field if you'd like. And did you sign up for that scholarship I mentioned to you around two weeks ago?"
"Yes, I filled it out last week."
"Good." He moves a hand to place on your shoulder, and the action takes you aback because it's the first time he's ever touched you. "I expect great things from you, Y/n. I'm sure whatever you want to do in this life, you'll do just fine."
You bashfully nod at his kind words. And you extend your hand up to him to signify a ready handshake. "Thank you, professor. And thank you so much for all your help this semester."
The hand that was on your shoulder grabs hold of your hand. But what happens next was far from what you expected.
Nanami lifts your hand with his and faintly sets his lips on the back of your knuckles.
And this is the provenance of what sets everything in motion.
What he did to your hand didn't just surprise you, but also surprised him. Nanami froze with your hand still in his, not daring to move as you have yet moved an inch.
Why did I do that? It's the biggest question that runs through his mind at this time. One moment he was praising you for being one of his best students, then he busses his lips onto your hand the next. But why?
Nanami knew he was done for. Unable to look into your eyes, he can only tighten his hold on your hand. This was so not part of his routine. Today was supposed to be like any other exam day. He only came here to see his students for one last time before the start of summer break. He only came here to see his final class and have them take the exam before heading home. So why?
Perhaps it was the feelings of spring blinding him like a child. Or maybe his emotions got the better of him. But today was the last day of the semester he'd see his favorite pupil — you. Until now, the professor has done a phenomenal job maintaining an appropriate relationship between teacher and student, keeping a respectable distance while tending to his scholars.
And yet, he still would catch himself sneaking a selfish glance at you following through with his lectures, his heart swooning when you use your lovely voice to ask a question, or going blind when you flash a smile that rivals the sun's beam.
It's never right to have favorites; however, you clearly were the one that caught his attention the most.
Yet, also, this type of relationship is not the best for Nanami or you. You are a student, and he is your teacher. This could damage the reputation of both of you. It's the least favorable outcome between the two of you...
...So why haven't you snatched your hand away from mine yet?
Your hands tighten back with his, and the man finally chooses to look at you.
You're eyes bore into him, looking at him as if he's the only thing meant to have your concentration. Your breathing descends to a slower pace, but the rhythm of your heart beats the more you look at the man before you. "Professor Nanami..." you said his name in a whisper, and God, did it feel so wrong to do such a thing. As if your mouth would be thrown into a pit of flames for even calling to him with an indescribable connotation. Your mind is now fueled with a deep emotion rooted within, rooted with a scary longing.
"Y/n..." It felt even more wrong to have your name hushed in his voice, so hot to the ears that they could melt any second. Even so, a part of you wishes he would repeat it in the same tone again. Expressing the exact feeling of wanting something, wanting you.
Observant brown eyes lock in with your eyes. Faces move forward with hesitance. Eyes close. Noses begin to brush their skins against each other. And pairs of lips seal an unfortunate yet desirable event that cannot be revoked.
It takes a few minutes for you two to melt into each other from the makeout session. It takes a few minutes to block the glass windows with portable whiteboards to block the view from the outside. And it takes a few minutes for you to be a disheveled mess with your back on a table with Nanami between your legs, fingering your throbbing vulva and licking your slick and sensitive clitoris.
"Hoooh...Mmmm, Professor Nanami, your tongue. I-It feels too good—Nnnmph!!"
Nanami flicks his tongue on your sensitive, the cause for you to cry out. "Y/n, I told you. It's just the two of us, so call me by my name."
No, you mustn't. That's taking things too far. But, "K-Kentooo," that name is too tempting to not have seeped through your moans. "Your tongue and fingersss, they're too much!"
His middle and forefinger pull and push inside your gushy walls, prompting more of your sweet cries to fill the blonde man's eardrums. "Is that so? Too much for you? Think you're gonna cum?"
You nod desperately with each question, your cunt clenching around his digits as if you were to snatch them off. But that would be impossible when he's playing with your pussy like a toy. Sweat starts to form on your forehead, your orgasm inching in closer and closer by the second.
And Nanami notices, resulting in him coming to your aid for release. His tongue goes back to lapping around clit, kissing and sucking on the bud while the tempo of his fingers increases.
Your climax hits you hard, having your body twitch and quiver as the inner walls of your slit contract around the digits scraping your velvety texture. You grab tufts of his blond hair, messing up its neat shape. But neither of you cares, too engulfed with each other to worry about the details. Tears form at the end of your eyes as you experience your high, and you try to steady your breathing when your professor withdrawals himself from you.
"Good job, sweet pea. Made a mess on my fingers." He praises you while undoing his tie and unbuttoning his dress shirt, revealing his well-defined torso for your eyes to see. But the real prize is when he unzips his pants and pulls down his briefs, his erect cock out in the open for you to marvel at.
But before you could look at it with all its glory, the tip of his dick presses up against your cunt, sliding it up and down to warm you up before entry. The feeling of his shaft grinding on your folds and clit is enough to have chills travel down your spine.
"Alright, love, I'm gonna go slow for you, okay?" His chocolate brown eyes examine your face to give him a response. You nibble on your lip and brace yourself after confirming your cooperation. "If you want me to stop, let me know. So, take some breaths for me."
And with that, the blonde pushes his cock into you with every exhale you take, the twinge of pain making it difficult to focus. Yet you still pull through because you want this so fucking much. There's no turning back now. And when the tip of his cock finally nestles inside your vagina, a choked shriek departs from your lips.
Slowly, Nanami pushes himself into you, every inch of his cock venturing further into your welcoming, throbbing chasm. He brushes up against your sweet spots causing you to jerk up. Nanami coaxes you through it. "It's okay, darling. You're taking me so well."
Tears come streaming down when the base of his cock kisses your folds, your union now solidified. The blonde gives you a moment to get acclimated with his girth inside before he gradually instructs a patient pace of the hips.
"Mmmm, Kento. 'S so good..." You mewl into the air, your face feeling hot and sweaty. The slow rhythm of his ruts is tantalizing, but it feels so good having his length scrape your insides. "Pleaseee, go fasteeer—"
"Want it faster? Nnmmm, damn, I'll go faster, baby." When the moment is right, his thrusts quicken the cadence, provoking more blissful whimpers to fill the silent room.
Your hands find purchase on his back, your legs wrapping around his waist to cage him close to you. And Nanami takes the notion as a signal for him to dial up the speed, thrusting so deep into your pussy with an erratic tempo. Pelvis smacking hard on your slit and tender clit that it has you seeing stars.
"Hmmm, Ahh—Ahhhh! Ohhhh, fucking shit!" The harsh ruts to your lower half keep your ground to the table beneath you, sweat sticking your clothes to your back. The sounds of skin slapping each other are on par with your pornographic noises, having you feel indecent and shameful. But it's too late now.
"Hmmph! Oh, fuck," husky groans exit from Nanami, the man putting his forehead on yours. "You feel so good and tight around me, love. So close to—Ahhhh!! Shit, so close to cumming.."
You swallow the spit that secretes your mouth. "Haaaah, Kentoooo—" your eyes are shut to wholly focus on the commotion beneath you. Your sexes smacking each other, forcing you to clench around him with every thrust of the hips. "I'm about to—Nnnaaahh!! Oh, Jesus, I'm gonna cummm!"
He kisses your forehead. "You want to cum, sweet pea?"
"Yesssss, please, please, pleaseee!!" Begging for your release is all you can do as your mind turns into mush, the familiar sensation crawling back to haunt you.
He hushes your cries with his lips on yours, the final kiss filled with scorching passion while Nanami pistons a few thrusts plunging to your vulva.
Your orgasm washes over you again, and you moan blissfully into the blonde's mouth. Your gushy walls flutter around his member for the last time, coating it with your essence. And Nanami had to be quick not to sink too deep into the feeling, or else he'd spill his release into you. He removed himself from your lips and body, ejaculating his load onto your bare stomach, and you gasped at the contact of his fluids spilling on your exposed skin.
You look up to survey the man before you, and you're met with an image you never thought you'd see. Blonde hair that was once slicked neatly now had messy strands that framed his face beautifully. Sweat covered his sculpted physique, and hooded brown eyes examined your body under him.
Letting the silence calm the both of you down from your aftershocks, Nanami glances at your face and smiles. He brings a hand to cup your cheek, brushing off tears that painted your face.
"Glad to have you this semester. Have a good summer, darling."
⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆
BAM! BAM!! BAM!!!
An abrupt sound has you stop writing on the entry, bringing you back to the present time.
It sounded like it came from the front door, so you stuff your diary into your bag and exit the room to find out who's causing all the ruckus. When you open the door, the first thing that enters your line of vision is pink hair.
Your friend, Yuuji Itadori.
"Yo!" He greets you. "Ready to go? I called up your phone like four times."
"Oh, you did? Sorry, I must've forgotten to put it back on vibrate after the exam." You move out of the way for Yuuji to enter your dorm, closing the door behind him. "My stuff is in my room. I got two suitcases, a duffel bag, and my backpack."
"Alright then, let's hurry and get out of here! Think we can take the freeway since it's late at night, and traffic should be gone by now."
Yuuji grabs your two suitcases and heads outside to put them inside the trunk of his car. You walk around to check and see if anything is missing or misplaced before heading to your room and grabbing the other bags.
Yet before you leave the space entirely, you grab your diary again and write your final thoughts.
...I don't know what possessed me to let what happened happen. But, at the same time, I don't hate it for happening? I don't know...it was probably the feelings of spring taking over me or the relief that I finished all my exams.
But one thing is for sure; if I wasn't the last person to leave that classroom, none of that would've happened. I wouldn't have experienced that new side of Professor Nanami.
And as long as this keeps between me and him, then I'm kinda glad that it happened.
♡ uh-huh ♡
thinking about pussy drunk!miguel who agrees to everything you say as long as you keep fucking him like that<33
WARNINGS : NSFW 18+ ONLY, SPOILERS? i guess?, NO use of y/n f!reader, rough unprotected sex, riding, swearing, ooc!miguel probably, messy & lazy writing you already know:)), not proofread
a/n : it's been a LOOONG time since I wrote smut so please keep in mind that it's gonna be trash LMFAO (also i know i have a ton of requests in my inbox but i couldn't help myself with this man, this just came to me)
English is not my first language so I apologize in advance for any misspells, errors or grammatically incorrect sentences.
banner credit : @cafekitsune
“Miguel, are you even listening to me?” you pout down at him, the rolling of your hips never stopping.
“Shit-not particularly no.” he hisses when he feels you squeeze around him, and you run your hands up and down his chest as you tilt your head. “Miles has a point y'know. Maybe you should hear him out.”
Miguel is so lost at the feel of your pussy that he can hardly hear anything beside the sound of skin meeting skin, and his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He can barely keep his eyes open, but he forces himself just to watch your pretty cunt swallow up his cock greedily, his mouth open and brows furrowed prettily.
“Miguel!” you whine out both in exasperation and pleasure, and he groans out your own name lowly, raising his hips to meet the rolls of your own. “Just like that, bebita, s'fucking good f'r me..”
“You're still-fuck- not listening…” you moan, grinding down at him, feeling tears gather in your eyes when you see Miguel lick the pad of his thumb, eyes hooded and so fucking dumb, just to bring his hand to your clit and rub figure eights messily.
“How can I? Pussy's squeezing me so well- mierda.. y're killin' me,” he clamps a hand on your hip to help guide you against his cock, his other messing up his hair as he runs it through his damp locks, sweat running down his eyebrow.
He lets out the prettiest moan when he looks up at you, having half the mind to bend you over and rail you till he's given you everything. You, with your perfect tits bouncing with each roll and grind of your hips, paired with that teasing smile of yours, is enough to make a grown man cry.
“Gimme a kiss,” he utters, and you grin as you lower yourself, your tits getting squished against his chest. He grabs the side of your head, your breathing mixing together as you come impossibly close. Just as your lips are about to touch, you pull back the slightest bit and his eyebrows give the slightest twitch.
“Are you gonna give Miles a chance?” he groans and pushes his head away childishly, “Can you please not talk about that kid when we're fucking? Jesus.”
You slow the rolls of your hips, before coming to a full stop, your shoulders shaking as you laugh against his neck. “I didn’t hear a no..” you raise your head to catch his gaze, to find that he’s purposefully not meeting your gaze, jaw locked stubbornly.
“No. Now can we please go back to you riding me? That’d be great.”
“Well, you’re not listening to me, so why should I?”
“Are you serious? We really gonna do this? Now?”
You shrug, clamping down on him suddenly, and he sputters, cock pulsing appreciatively. “That’s not fair.” he grits his teeth.
“What’s not fair is wanting to save your loved ones but being told no by some ridiculous universal rule that-mmf” your rambling gets cut off as Miguel kisses you hard, thrusting up at you hard. His tongue muffles your moans as he continues pistoning his cock in and out of your pussy, keeping you in place with a hand on your ass.
“You know why I can’t, bebita, don’t make me do this..” he hisses out, trying to concentrate on fucking you till you forget all about that stupid kid.
“What if- oh fffuck,” you moan, eyes rolling back as he keeps hitting that one spot deep inside your pussy, “What if it was me?” your question seems to catch him off guard as he halts all movements “What?”
Miguel knew the consequences of his actions, and he’d learned them the hard way. He wasn’t heartless, he knew what that kid was going through was hard, and it was about to become a lot worse. You asking him to put you in that situation, even if it was imaginary, made his mind short-circuit. He couldn’t lose you, ever. But he also knew he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. This was bigger than you and him. The whole multiverse as you know it would be at stake. But he’d find a way. He’d find a way for you. If there was a way, then maybe… he could try to hear Miles out. (he hated himself for even admitting that inside his head)
“Wouldn’t you try to save me baby?” with his concentration slipping, you got the chance to take back full control, as you started bouncing on his cock in a bruising pace, “Save this pussy?” the whimper Miguel let out was a good enough answer, but you were greedy. “Huh, baby?”
“Uh-huh, yeah.. ffuck yes, would turn the whole world upside down f’r you…. Please, Oh fuck please, just keep fuckin’ me like that…” the sounds coming out of him turned feral- and he didn’t even realize you positioned his hands over your tits, till he squeezed the supple flesh in his hands and moaned, the muscles in his arms flexing violently.
“Yeah? Not gonna let me go, baby?” you laugh giddily, leaning back to support yourself with your hands on his thick thighs, circling your hips as he’d balls deep inside you.
His hands slide around your back when he sits up suddenly, and you gasp, clawing at his shoulders for support, and he snarls “Never.”
The pace you both set has both of you panting and moaning uncontrollably, with you grinding your hips down to meet his each time he thrusts up, his fat balls slapping your ass every single time.
“Who knows,” you feel Miguel utter against your hair, “maybe I’d let the whole fuckin’ universe collapse for you, cariño..” A shiver runs down your spine and you throw your head back and moan. He chuckles breathlessly, groaning when he feels you clamp around him impossibly tight. “Shit, that’s bad, huh? Maybe I should change careers-fuck,”
“Are you gonna come, baby? Cause ‘m coming for you, gonna fill you up so well,”
2023 © l13 | Do not steal, copy, edit, translate or re-post any of my works.
cw. suggestive, gn!reader, miguel being protective (?), ass grabbing, exhibitionism, alcohol consumption, does this count as public indecency? *not proofread, just pure brainrot
[@waltzthegenderfluidpan is at fault here /j] I wrote this in one sitting, I think im losing it
art is from yeagersatorubae on twt!!
miguel is so easily the "wear what you want, I can fight." type bf and im so here for it
he's keeping a hand on your waist, hips or ass as he walks with you
he uses his surroundings to his advantage to touch you
the view of his hands groping your ass blocked by the table
and the fact that he has you perched so prettily in his lap
he's so handsy
literally has to be touching you all the time
ex. an arm over your shoulders, waist or just resting a hand on your ass
loves to just grope and fondle your ass and thighs when you sit in his lap
literally doesn't care that each time he squeezes your thigh, his hand moves up higher
loves keeping a neutral face as if you aren't squirming in his lap
takes a swig of his drink as if he isn't torturing you with his touches
namjoon x non-no magazine
I NEED more mingi fics. The mingi brain rot has been SO intense. HAVE YOU SEEN THE PHOTOS FROM THE SHOW OF HIM IM-
Wei Pai in Five Deadly Venoms (1978)
I'm back on tumblr hehehe,, my utrh jason collection :3c
jason as venom i drew for a twt oomf ♡♡