| lotus | 18 | she/her | african | fem!reader + gn!reader + black!reader | rock lee x reader prophet | armin and connie's gf | itachi's lady | denki's sweet escape | solange enthusiast | beyoncé's baby | sade top listener | frank ocean's leading lady |
⋆.˚ sideblog here! -> @letters4lotus
࣪˖➹﹑GENERAL NOTES ࣪˖➹﹑
i mainly write for naruto, but i'm around aot, jjk, mha, demon slayer, and gachiakuta – i will write for them if prompted. here is a list of things i do not write about! i write fluff, smut, and angst.
spam my inbox. give me requests. ASK TO BE MY MOOT! i love moothood, and i love seeing your thoughts and ideas. it may take me time, but i will get back to you. and if i don't get back to you, that means you just asked me some bs!
writing can be a little slow, but do not hesitate. you will never bother me. 🪷
ahhh i got my exam results back earlier today... guess who's going to be doing a bachelors in international relations instead of law...
i'm lowkey feeling a little sad bc i missed my offer so narrowly. i had a scholarship and everything. i needed ABB, I got AAC... but either way im feeling so blessed bc it's an excellent university regardless... such is life 🩷
cw: nsfw under the cut, sub!jabber, dom!reader, descriptions of reader giving hickeys, descriptions of reader slapping jabber, teasing, minor mentions of blood, pussyjob, orgasm denial, descriptions of reader choking jabber, creampie, not set in canon!
- ‧₊ it's a well-known, and undeniable fact to everybody in the room that you treasure yourself and surround yourself with nothing but beauty. so much so, that you have ended up becoming it's incarnation wrapped in pink.
- people notice you, and how everything about you begins and ends in a seamless transition.
- from the style your hair is done in, to your makeup. your two-toned lips, finished with bubblegum-scented gloss. your manicured nails. the soft rosy hues that compose the palette of your outfits, down to the minute details of jewellery shining against your rich complexion. everything falls into perfect alignment.
- they also notice the beaming extent of your charm, how bubbly you are; your overall pleasant demeanour. to them, there is no deception. you're just as sweet as you look.
- which is why it's so hard for everyone to understand that you're with jabber, of all people.
- jabber, who's built a reputation for being erratic in nature. jabber, whose intense energy precedes your warm aura. jabber, whose very existence serves to juxtapose your own.
- at least on a surface level.
- people don't know that when the doors are shut, you and jabber are more alike than different. your reasoning for being with him grows more apparent the further you get from their curious eyes.
- the instant he enters your room, your sugary exterior gets washed away to reveal the side of you that's been hiding all day. it's the version of you that rises to match jabber in vulgarity.
- and every single time, jabber finds it absolutely thrilling that you can transform so quickly and deceive everybody around you.
- even down to the princess-like sanctuary of your bedroom.
- pink walls, a sade poster, and carpet that's soft on the feet. the queen-sized bed is draped in pale pink sheets, and adorned with silken pillows. your huge vanity is lined up with flower bouquets (courtesy of jabber), perfume bottles and makeup brushes scattered haphazardly.
- but the things you do with jabber in there are anything but princess-like.
- he knows he'll bear the brunt of your lust when he hears the door shut from behind you. you size him up with nothing but a downward sweep of your eyes, and he's obsessed with how small you make him feel without even saying a word.
- you shove him onto your bed like he weighs nothing to push, and he can already feel the blood rushing to his hardening dick. it's something about having his strength challenged by a tender lady like you that really gets him going.
- his heart races rapidly when you sit on him with knees planted on either side of his hips, and rock the outline of your pussy against him. your silk robe opens just enough to reveal the skin of your thighs, and when he attempts to touch you, a harsh slap lands across his face.
- your slap elicits a groan from him, and you can feel his clothed dick throb through your panties. it makes you grind harder against him.
"i didn't say you could touch me, jabber."
"no," he smirks, teeth sinking into his lower lip. "you're right, ma'am. you didn't tell me to do shit at all."
"so why did you think it was acceptable to touch me?" slap! your hand strikes his other cheek. "you're smarter than this," you lean in closer to whisper in his ear. "why did you act like i said all that, hm?"
"fuck," he hisses softly at the sweet sting. "can't help myself when you're on top of me like this, doll.." he inhales the scent of cocoa butter on your neck and purrs in your ear. "you gonna put me in my place?"
"you'd like that, wouldn't you?" you scoff. "you're fucking disgusting." he swears he could get high from the venom laced in your words.
- your fingers grip around his thick locs, dragging his neck back to expose the vulnerable column of his throat. jabber can't stop moaning at the tension he feels against his scalp, in conjunction with your covered clit rubbing against him.
"you want this." you chide, plump lips curve into a smirk.
- warm breath ghosts over the side of his neck, mapping the flesh. the warmth gets quickly replaced by teeth grazing above where the breath lingered. they're just sharp enough to make him gasp while you dig into his flesh. your mouth then seals over the area, sucking hard.
- the throbbing pain in jabber's neck blooms into a pleasure that gets stronger for every blood vessel your suction bursts. jabber is insatiable at this point. the whites of his eyes are on full display as he rolls his irises back, and he's rutting against you as if he wants to merge with you; to become one.
- but you put an end to his senseless desire. you're pulling away from his neck, admiring the artful mosaic of darkening marks against his skin. a visible sign of your power over him, and his reminder that he belongs to you. you have to remind him where he stands.
"you're getting carried away," you tut at him. "it's pathetic, jabber. you keep doing the most..."
"fuck," he growls. "and whose fault is that? you're the one all over my body, baby. you really gonna blame me for that?" there's a deliberate defiance in his tone—the kind that jabber knows will get a rise out of you. and to rub salt into the wound, he smirks at you, and jerks his hips harder against you.
- but deep down, you enjoy this game of push-and-pull you both play.
- he teases you, and you give in. not only into his desires, but also into yours when you hook your fingers around the waistband of his boxers, and pull them down to release his throbbing dick from the confines of fabric.
"finally," his breath hitches as his dick slaps against his tummy, "fuck, fuck, fuck..."
"yeah, that's it, baby..." for a moment, your encouragement actually sounds sincere.
- he leans up with his hands reaching for your hips on instinct, but before he can touch you, you slap his hands away.
a scoff escapes your lips. "you really thought."
- the silk robe comes off, leaving your nudity on a clearer display for him. your eyes never part once from his when you hook a finger around your lacy panties, pulling them to the side with an intentional, agonising slowness that reveals the wetness of your pussy. the sight of essence, slowly trickling onto his skin, makes him tremble.
"do you want this, jabber?" your tone is sultry, like music to his ears.
"yes ma'am," he wantonly huffs. "i do."
"hmm... do you really, though?"
- you hover over him, with arms on either side of his head. his pulse is dangerously loud as you approach, and you note the rapidly increasing rise and fall of his chest. you know that this is more than just a mere want. it's a necessity that your boyfriend would do just about anything to have. the tip of his cock is blushing furiously at you, leaking out glossy precum as if it's going to burst if left untouched.
you stare at yourself in the reflection of his dilated pupils as he begs you. "please, please, please... i really do, y/n... you're driving me out of my fucking mind..." he's clutching onto your sheets in an effort to be good for you, but it's no use when the hot tears in his eyes betray him by falling.
- pitiable. just pitiable. and you wouldn't have it any other way. you lick a stripe along his face, catching the tears, before pressing your mouth onto his. moans pass between your meeting lips, with tongues tangling together like barbed wire. he tastes the sweetness of your lip gloss, and you taste the saltiness of his tears. and now, as you bite down on his lip to draw blood, you can both the taste the faintest slither of copper. it all fuses together into one addictive flavour profile, and once you're both done memorising the taste, you pull away, gasping for air.
your thumb traces gently over his swollen lip. "look at you..."
- you sit up and return to your initial position, squatting above jabber's erection. your soft fingers wrap around the shaft of his hard length, and he pulses at the sight of your pink manicured nails contrasting against his brown dick. you place it in perfect alignment with your pussy, lowering your hips in doing so, but he groans when he realises that you're not putting it in just yet. instead, your pussy lips are pressing against his length, slick with his precum, and your essence.
"y/n..." he moans out. you shush him softly while your clit rubs against the veiny ridges of his cock. the more the slippery friction between you accumulates, the more frequent his moans become. "fuck, if ya keep that up... i'm gonna..."
as soon as he makes that announcement, you pull his cock away from between your labia. "you're gonna what, hm?" you can't help but laugh when he groans and throws his head back in frustration. "you're not gonna do shit unless i tell you to, jabber. remember that."
- you grab onto his shaft, but this time around, his tip connects to your entrance. you sink down onto him, engulfing his dick inch by inch into your tight warmth. you bite down on your sweet lips at the stretch, and waste no time in squatting up and down, coating his cock in your slick.
- jabber's shame knows no bounds when he moans your name repeatedly into the air like a prayer as you ride him. his hungry eyes are fed when he sees the glow of your rich skin, and your supple breasts bouncing.
"slow down?" your hand strikes his face. "i finally give you what you want, and you're out here telling me what to do? you slap him again. "you ain't shit." he moans. "mmm, no... i ain't, ma'am."
- instead of taking his useless suggestion, you decide to pick up the pace. the sounds of skin slapping on skin, and wet squelching rips through the simultaneous harmony of jabber's moans and your soft pants. you're squeezing against him perfectly, and you can feel him reaching your sweet spot every time you slam down on top of him.
- you smile, slowly and wickedly, with unblinking eyes that meet his half-lidded ones. your hand sneaks around his neck and squeezes around it, causing him to let out a choked gasp. you notice the way his abs spasm from beneath you, and you choke him even harder, to the point where you can feel his heartbeat against your fingertips.
"oh jabber..." you coo mockingly, with pouting lips. "you gonna cum already?" you continue slamming into him relentlessly.
"a-are you going to let me?" he chokes out.
- you ignore him for a few moments, opting to tighten your pussy and clench around his length as you take him in and out with harder bounces. his face contorts in overwhelming pleasure, feeling light-headed from the lack of air.
- the pleasure is almost too much. jabber swears he can hold on, but the moment you release his throat and say "yes," he cums with a sob, his hot release spilling into the depths of your pussy as his body trembles. your climax soon follows, and your pussy grips around him so tight, he can feel the circulation in his dick cut off, squeezing the life out of him the same way your hand was around his throat seconds ago. you're both throbbing against each other, and his seed is leaking out of you and spilling onto your pristine pink sheets.
- silence fills the room, save for the faint sounds of your shared breaths. you lift your hips to pull his dick out of you, and you watch as the cum slowly oozes out. you both bite your lips at the sight, and moan with closed mouthes.
- it's almost like you were never a bloodthirsty vixen when you lean over to press a soft kiss on the corner of jabber's lips.
- and that's what he adores about you.
- your duality. the fact that you're able to balance both sides of your nature flawlessly. you, an already sweet girl, dipped in honey. soft on herself and spoiled, wrapped in pink.
- no one would guess that you'd also be the same person who leaves these hickeys on his neck. that you're the same person who cuts into his flesh with nothing but your words. that you take his breath away—literally. they don't know that you send a burning sting through his body with every slap you give.
- ‧₊ you're his girlfriend, he's your boyfriend. and you're both exactly where you want to be.
nearly maxed out tags cus i’m crazy and just have so much love in my heart i wanted to tag everyone but i had to condense so i’m sorry if i missed anyone also but just know i love you all so bad
also a lot of you i haven’t interacted with in a long time and i feel bad abt that🙁 and some ppl that i tagged haven’t even been active since last year or longer like omg pls come back soon i miss you guys 😣😣
OMG THANK YOU SM BABY I MISS INTERACTING WITH YOU TOO<\3
my most favourite people here🙂↕️: @cherryvvave @moviecritc @bloomcissa @cryptic-doe @rh1nestcned @lechelovestoyap @luviery @vianawaits @scissorhvnds @dreamersentity @kamislop @batwngs @sakunai @mystiquevoid @1nsignia @patientofarkhamasylum @arfemiz @froggibus @tinafication @bitemysin @torupng @brinawing @biovomit @evilmanhater @gr0und-zer00 (i'm sorry if i didn't tag someone, but know that you're very dear to me too<3)
i feel like i don't say it enough, but i love you all, and y'all are very very dear to me. here on tumblr i found the community i feel sort of belonging to and with who i have experienced peak girlhood♥️
GAH STOP THIS IS SO SWEET siri how do i tag all of my 150+ mutuals-
i'm going to tag some of my babygirls and if i miss some PLEASE DON'T TAKE IT PERSONALLY i love and cherish all my lovely mooties :( even if we don't interact much
AWWWGHHH thank you so much for the tags my loves!!!! @moviecritc @rengoatku 👩🏾❤️💋👩🏾👩🏾❤️💋👩🏾👩🏾❤️💋👩🏾👩🏾❤️💋👩🏾
sending my love back to you, and sending my love forth to @t1track @cr0wcaller @arabella0001 @foryuiwill @sakunai @baekhyoris @ilytsasuke @yvess4int @itachispetrock @itachiswifeyyy @kankuroskitty @keniscrepes @arfemiz @ichxraaa @sophieswish @doodleoodlenoodlecaboodle @mewstoned @paperdiary @bbatxc @caliwa-chan @fieeee888 @p1nk1epie67 @hornsda @sundaysschild @momoinspace @chwerryl @miniaturedonkeygardenllama @liv-2vicous
Hii, how are you? I just found your account, and I was wondering if you could do a smut with Shikamaru where the reader is insecure about her bush (idk if this is weird for you 😭) and her weight cause she's mid sized? Please.
shikamaru couldn't care less about how your body looks. OR... shikamaru fucks you until he's sure you understand him. (2.8k words) (ask)
content: fem!reader, midsized!reader/chubby!reader, pre-established relationship, mentions of stretch marks, mentions of pubic hair, kissing, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, pillow method, creampie
your boyfriend is a genius.
it's no secret that shikamaru is a logician through and through, led by his keen intellect and his razor-sharp perception. in some moments, those qualities felt like a blessing. he could discern even the slightest of changes in your emotions, and save you from the discomfort of poisoning the air with your thoughts.
but in this moment, those exact same qualities felt like a curse.
there's nowhere to hide beneath his watchful gaze. he's on top of you, stripped down to his boxers, staring down at you as you lay with your back to the mattress. the two of you had kissed and kissed until your lips grew tender. it was only natural that your throbbing pussy would grow wet with desire under your clothes, and you couldn't blame shikamaru either, with his concealed erection pressing itself against your core.
it was inevitable—shikamaru would hunger for more, and you would eventually cave in too. you couldn't distract him forever though, and you knew that. nothing could ever distract him once he had recognised a pattern.
every instinctive tug of your shirt over your belly; every hand that reached for the bedside lamp to turn it off before he could see your skin; and every instance where you've refused to get fully undressed: shikamaru had noticed it all. he had studied you long enough for the truth to reveal itself, and he couldn't tolerate your elusiveness any longer.
he pauses before cutting the silence with his voice, low and collected.
"you've been doing that all evening." and all the other times too, he wants to say, but he stops himself.
"doing what?" you asked him.
“hiding from me.” he answers softly.
knowing shikamaru, he had probably been building the evidence for this case for a while. he isn’t the type of person to carelessly throw out statements without evidence to back it up. you start to wonder how long he had known. you wonder if your insecurity had really been that obvious. there's nothing to gain from lying at this stage, but you try your hand at denial anyway.
“i’m not hiding from you, shikamaru.”
“yeah, but you are," he answers swiftly. "you get tense every time my hands go somewhere you’ve decided isn’t allowed, you always want the lights off, and we haven’t done anything except kiss for the last hour or so.”
his tone lacks biting accusation or any venom. it's steady, it's straightforward, and that arguably feels worse. he's reading you so easily, like you're an open book with large text.
“so, what part of you is it?" he continues. "what am i not meant to look at?”
his eyes, usually listless, begin to simmer with the slightest intensity. you can feel your face growing warm. “shikamaru… can’t we j–”
“no.” he speaks firmly. “not until you tell me, y/n. i’d rather deal with whatever you’ve got going on right now than accept what little of yourself you’ve been giving me.”
your heart feels like it’s in your ears, what with how loud it’s beating. you want to scream at him for putting you on the spot like this. you want to storm out of this room, but that’s not possible. the only way out of this situation would be to go through it.
and so, you confess about your insecurities to the best of your ability. your weight, your shape, your stomach, your stretchmarks, your anything and everything.
shikamaru doesn’t mind your inability to maintain eye contact with him as your eyes dart around the room. your voice is small, suffocating underneath the extent of your vulnerability, but it still manages to reach his patient ears.
he takes a moment to process what you’ve just said. some more seconds pass before he finally opens his mouth.
“is that it? that’s what’s been going on in that pretty head of yours?”
it takes you everything you have just to nod. shikamaru then takes both of your wrists in his grasp, and slowly moves them away from your body, pinning them gently against the mattress. he drinks in the sight of your figure with his love-softened eyes, up and down, and he struggles to fathom how you could possibly find fault with yourself.
he speaks calmly. “you should know that it doesn’t bother me at all.”
“really?” you half-whisper, still feeling shy from the way his eyes left a trail over your body. “you don’t think i should lose weight or anything?”
“no,” he echoes. “look at me.” your eyes settle on his. “it doesn’t matter. i think you should eat when you’re hungry, and i think you should drink when you're thirsty. i think you should keep doing everything you already do…”
he leans further down, gradually sealing the distance between your faces. his breath is warm, and tinged with tobacco. “...except worry. you’re making yourself miserable thinking about things that don’t matter.” he lets go of your wrists. “don’t move them, alright?” you obey him. you trust him.
shikamaru moves away, giving his hands all the time they need to work on ridding yourself of your clothes, starting with your shirt. his fingertips grip onto the hem of the fabric and pull upwards, revealing your skin little by little until your top half is exposed to the cool air of the room.
goosebumps raise on your skin. the sight of you couldn’t be any more enticing than it already was to him. his eyes are already locked onto the delicate lace over your plump breasts, each sitting pretty like gifts he wants to unwrap and sink his teeth into.
shikamaru wishes that you could see yourself the way he does. he’s trying his hardest not to lose every ounce of his self-control right now, but it’s hard—he’s hard—especially when you look like a dream that he doesn’t have to wake up from.
“you don’t need to change for my sake. i chose you. and if i wanted someone that looked different, i wouldn’t waste your time or mine.” he leaves no room for discussion with that tone, but it doesn't stop you from bargaining regardless.
“i don't believe you...”
"i know you don’t. not yet, anyway." he moves to unbutton your pants, gesturing for you to raise your hips so he can pull them off. he doesn't cut eye contact while doing so.
"then why tell me?"
you can feel your legs closing in an attempt to shrink yourself—to hide, even though you’re on his bed, at his mercy. he stops you immediately, seizing your knees in his hands and parting your legs to reveal the damp spot that's grown on your panties.
"because it's true."
shikamaru brings his face close to yours, and presses a kiss to your forehead. "you don't have to believe me right now.” he croons in your ear. “as troublesome as it is, i'll keep telling you until you do.”
he knew that if he wanted you to understand his message, being lazy wouldn’t cut it. his actions would have to align with his words seamlessly.
shikamaru dipped his head to the crook of your neck and tasted the sweetness of the flesh there, relishing in it with every swirl of his tongue, and with every gentle nip of his teeth. you gasp sharply underneath him, arching your back and pressing your chest against his. he can feel the obstruction of your bra against his skin, and in one singular motion, he unclasps it, and throws it on the floor as if he resents it for hiding your beauty.
his insatiable hands are all over you: they feel the soft swell of your tummy; they grip plushness of your round hips; and they trace the map of stretchmarks that decorate your skin. he didn’t know what he loved the most, but he chose to settle his hands over the expanse of your heavy breasts and kneaded them, with his calloused thumbs circling your nipples, eventually rolling them between thumb and forefinger until they hardened and grew stiff with need. he kissed a path from your neck to your chest and to your breasts, making your breath waver.
your moans are his encouragement as he takes a nipple in his mouth, his tongue rolling around the sensitive bud. while he frees your slick nipple to lap at your other breast, one of his hands teases the hot space between your legs. his fingers trace the outline of your pussy lips and your throbbing clit.
“please, y/n,” he leaves open-mouthed kisses down the sloping curves of your stomach until he reaches your bellybutton, stopping just above the hem of your panties. “tell me what you want.” he looks up at you through his lashes, with eyes full with passion that’s exclusively reserved for you.
“shikamaru. hold on…”
he’d be right to notice the hesitation in your voice. you’re becoming uncomfortably aware of how close his mouth is to the warmth hidden behind your panties. it makes you sit up.
he stops immediately, raising his head up from between your legs. “what is it?”
“i didn’t shave.” you swallow. “i’m sorry, i just… i forgot to. and i totally get it if you wanna stop…”
"you have no idea. i don't want to stop at all." he speaks calmly, smoothing his hands over your legs while doing so. "it's hair, woman. it's supposed to be there. if i stopped, what kind of man would that make me, hm? i'd be a dishonest man who doesn't really love you. do you understand?"
if there's one thing shikamaru always succeeds at doing, it's bringing you back down to earth with nothing but kindness. "i do."
"so lay back down. it's okay, y/n."
when you do as he says, he presses kiss after kiss along your inner thighs. the feeling of his lips are soft and sweet against your skin, and it blossoms into thinly veiled hunger once they reach the fabric-draped outline of your clit.
shikamaru is quicker to finish what he starts. this time, his fingers peel you out of your panties without any protest on your behalf. you're beautiful in all of your untampered glory: pulsing, dripping, and natural with coarse hair adorning you from your mound to your lips.
"god, you're gorgeous," he pants. "the prettiest."
shikamaru practically sinks his head into you. he shuts his eyes and allows himself to get lost in the taste of you as he swipes his tongue, over and over and over against your clit in crashing waves. his nose brushes against your pubic hair as his mouth shows you the greatest pleasure you've ever known. the feeling of it is unforgettable, and unlike anything your hands could do in your free time.
you buck your hips up, gasping his name as you tug on his ponytail. it makes him groan against your folds. you curl your toes and dig your other hand into the sheets as the vibration sweeps over your body.
"shikamaru," you moan, breathily. he already knows how close you are, just from your tone of voice alone. his tongue moves in more controlled circles around your clit. he opens his eyes just to watch you fall apart on his tongue. he hooks his arms around your thighs to pull you in, pressing his mouth impossibly closer against your weeping pussy.
you throw your head back, crying out incoherencies as blinding pleasure captures you. it feels like there's lightning in your legs as you tremor and spasm against him; like there's static in your mind with your orgasm taking you by storm. shikamaru took his time, savouring the taste of your essence flowing from you. he had been waiting for this for so long, and it was finally here. it tasted like nectar, and it felt water after a drought. he can't believe he missed out on this.
he gives your clit a departing kiss before moving his body back onto the bed, hovering right above you. shikamaru's lips are glossy with you, and you can taste yourself when he kisses you like he's grateful for you. you're his girl. his brave, brave girl.
"can't believe you ever thought i'd get put off by you," he breathes. shikamaru balances on one forearm, using his free hand to pull off his underwear. his dick springs out, eager to please you. it's been hard the moment you got here, and even before that, since he couldn't help but fantasise about you. you can feel the weight of it settling between your slick folds, grinding slowly.
"that's what you do to me." you hum at his words.
he kisses your temple, then stares intently into your eyes. "are you ready for me?" he asks. he really hopes you are. he could make you feel even better if you gave him the chance to be inside you. and thank goodness, you are. with your eyes locked on his, you nod slowly with all the certainty you lacked earlier.
the slightest grin forms on shikamaru's lips. "there she is."
with one hand, he guides the head of his cock into you, just deep enough to give your wanting pussy to cling onto. you hiss inwardly at the glorious feeling. you try to take more of him inside you by bucking your hips up, but shikamaru stops you, pushing a firm hand down onto your tummy to keep you settled. he knows that if you keep doing that, he'll cum quicker than he wants to.
"let me do this for you." he strains.
he pushes inside of you in a singular, continuous thrust that feels like pure reward. you're tight around him, and the pressure he feels around his length makes his breath spill against your skin. he fills you perfectly, and the stretch feels heavenly as he buries himself to the hilt. you don't think it can get any better than this—the closeness of your bodies, your soft flesh against his toned body, your shared breaths mingling, the way he cradles your precious face,— but it does.
shikamaru sets a languid rhythm, fucking you with long and deep strokes. the angle is nothing short of perfection when he rolls his hips into your pussy, reaching that sweet spot so deep, you can swear you see heaven.
shikamaru's senses are left to burn at the sight of you beneath him; with sweet lips parted, full breasts bouncing, and soft tummy rippling. your moans do nothing but fan the flames that have sparked in his ears. the feeling of you is driving him wild with desire.
"you feel too good," he rasps, kissing the crook of your neck. "you are too good. too good to be hiding from me."
he doesn't lose his momentum at all when he lifts your hips, stacking pillows beneath your pelvis to keep them elevated while he drives his dick into you—harder, faster. the precision of his thrusts are even more lethal, and the depth of his greedy cock inside you stretches longer than you could ever imagine. you're getting wetter by the minute. you're worried your brain will melt with all this pleasure. he's fucking you silly, and the only word you can manage on your lips is his name.
shikamaru is just as drunk on your pussy, as you are drunk on his dick. his forehead is pressed against yours. he doesn't mind that your tugging hands have undone his ponytail, and you don't mind the dark strands brushing against your face as he slams into you. he steals a kiss from you before speaking against your lips.
"i know you want to cum," he pants. "i want to see you cum. will you let me see you?"
you nod the best you can. "yes," you gasp. "please, please, please…"
shikamaru groans when he feels your soaking pussy clench around him, sucking him in like it doesn't want his cock to escape. you're cumming with his name falling from your mouth, and it's the best sound he's ever heard. it's the final nail in the coffin that makes him cum on the spot too. he stuffs the entirety of his pulsing length inside of you, snapping his hips for a final time to let his warm cum flood your womb. the aftershocks of your orgasm continue to milk him dry, and he groans again.
you're both skin-to-skin, exchanging sweat, exchanging uncut gazes and puffs of breath for a few minutes in a world that feels like there's only you two, and nobody else.
he presses a lingering kiss on your forehead. "besides, i always said that guys like girls with more meat on their bones." when he earns your laughter, he kisses you again.
you both hum: shikamaru when he (unwantingly) pulls out of your spent pussy, and yourself when you're forced to cope with the feeling of emptiness he left behind.
shikamaru sits up, allowing his adoring gaze to slide over your stunning body, and for once, you don't feel the need to hide. you don't feel the need to make excuses.
because now, you believe that he really loves you. and he really wants to show you... all over again.
a/n: writers block has been beating my ass #sorry for the prolonged pauses.....
i got an anon request to write for a mid-sized reader, but it also happens to account for chubby!readers too. this is my first time writing for a bigger reader and i was deathly afraid of fucking up. i went through subreddits trying to gain insight oh my god. plz lmk how i did and if there's anything I can do to improve. ily, thank you!!!
is there anything you won’t write for? like do you have a list? I requested something a while ago but I’m lowk scared that it was smth stupid and ur one of my fav authors on here so I just gotta know😭
ohhh nonnie! don't be scared, this wasn't my intention, it's on me. i should've made it clear what i don't write. this post will serve as clarification for you and anyone else looking to send me requests.
‧₊ ⊹ i do not write about: incest, rape, pedophilia, CNC, EDs, SW (including strippers and OF), RPF, omegaverse, and anything about age regression. i also do not write about minors, and i don't believe in "aging up" characters.
i am absolutely ignoring your request if any of these are involved! i'm happy to write anything else, though. 🪷
content: fluff, hurt/comfort, reverse comfort, non-sexual intimacy, bathing/washing, sharing a bed, cuddling, undefined relationship, kakashi has attachment issues, flashbacks, ptsd symptoms, kissing, kakashi is slightly clingy, minor character study
w/c: 2.4k words
ˎˊ˗ art credit: @sso_s__ on twitter
the latch on your window lifted without so much as a click. the cool gusts of night air precede kakashi, as one of his hands settled against the windowsill, swiftly followed by the quiet sweep of his sandals. he lands on your floorboards. the wood beneath his feet never creaked when he dropped himself off through your window with practised ease. the same way you never bothered to look up when the sounds of a shutting window that you never opened reacquainted themselves with your ears.
though tonight, he didn't veer any further than the spot he landed on. he simply settled, almost as if anchored to it.
the ninja in your room remained crouched, with his breathing slow and heavy. his mask and uniform were desecrated with dirt, and defiled with dried blood. whether it was his own or that of another's, you couldn't completely tell. kakashi seems more like a walking riddle than a man right now, with his eyes fixed to the floor, staring idly at the space between his feet. he lacked the piercing glances one might expect an anbu-nin scanning for danger to have. at best, he seemed contemplative, and at worst, he seemed dejected. your own feet meet the floor, sacrificing the warmth of your bed on a pursuit to conduct a more personal investigation.
kakashi indulges your curiosity. he doesn't move away from you, not a single inch. your sight is first greeted with tufts of white hair, stained with whatever the crude world decided to mark him with. he still doesn't move when you bend your knees slightly, reaching downwards to grasp his shoulders. you can feel him shiver at your touch.
he still makes a battle out of looking at you, still appearing insistent on staring at the floor. it felt like the dark circles painted under his eyes, with exhaustion rooted deep into his flesh, were weighing his own gaze down. it only ceases when your hand—as soft as ever—grips the underside of his chin and guides his head upwards.
neither of you spoke. you both didn't need to. and for that, kakashi felt thankful. he withdrew, and often made it a statement to push people away, should he suffer even more loss. he didn't want the weight of grief to grow heavier on his shoulders, as strong as they were. but even so, he couldn't help visiting you when the sun fell, and the moon rose. it felt natural. kakashi couldn't help but to be selfish.
you were his sanctuary. his comfort. his, and his alone.
he tried not to take advantage of your kindness. the time between each of his visits would grow longer and longer, but like a moth to a flame, he would always find himself at your place. he reckons it's some form of self-punishment, but it doesn't feel like that when the lights of your room entice him to come in and make himself feel at home. it doesn't feel like self-punishment when you show him a night's tenderness after a day's terror. the pilgrimages he takes to see you are wrought with pain and isolation, and yet, he doesn't have any regrets taking that troublesome trip.
"come." your voice falls like rain on parched soil.
his heart flutters at the sound of your command. he finally rises, revealing the full extent of his height. the hand you once had on his chin is now holding his hand, tugging it. you guide him to your bathroom, and he follows obediently.
kakashi's towering frame has become the centerpiece in your bathroom. his figure emanates strength and power, though the sullen energy that radiates from him tells you the opposite. you stand on your tip-toes to unclasp his mask, but your emergency inches of spare height simply aren't enough. in an act of mercy, kakashi leans forwards—his face coming closer to yours. he could have very well taken it off himself, but he finds pleasure in your care. he wants you to do it.
pale hair tickles your face. you can hear a tinny sigh held back by his porcelain mask. your fingers slip beneath the strap at the back of his head, and with a snap, the mask is freed from his face. it's merely one of many masks that kakashi has at his disposal.
this porcelain mask conceals kakashi, the shinobi.
and the additional fabric mask beneath conceals kakashi, the man.
he allows you to see him for what he is. he allows you to slide the cloth off his face and draw it away completely. in exchange, you allow him to live without the need to shield himself. you do not gawk at him, nor do you marvel over seeing the face that is the subject of conjecture. you let him be.
"may i?"
it's hard to say no to you. he nods his head without a second thought.
you continue to break him down, with your hands moving to the fastenings at his shoulders where straps kept his armoured vest in place. one clasp loosened, then the other. undone, the armour clinked as it dropped to the floor, next to the mask. it carried the weight of his job; of every mission he survived; and every order he had followed. and now, it was left on your floor.
holster. kunai. sword. arm guards.
one by one, they were all quick to accompany each item after the next into the growing pile of items that burdened kakashi, until all there was left were clothes.
the fabric of his suit folds in on itself as you pull it down. it reveals a muscular carving of skin that's bruised in some places, and scarred in others. he's stood in your bathroom, wearing nothing but his underwear. piece by piece, you had been chipping away at your anbu-nin until all that was left was a man underneath.
and that was the standard whenever he came over. the outside world didn't matter. his names, titles, responsibilities, everything. it got left behind on your bedroom window, and it would be waiting for him at the break of dawn. but for a few hours, but for now, he could be as close to normal as this world allows. he could seek comfort from a person with flesh, instead of talking to an unanswering, cold stone.
with the lightest touch, your knuckles smooth a trail against his torso as you look for injuries. a lot of the old bruises you saw on his last visit have healed, which brings you relief. you can hear your own voice in the back of your head telling him to be careful. maybe he really did listen to your nagging. it makes you smile a little.
"clean yourself up. you need it, kakashi. how about i prepare something for you to eat while you're here? you must be hungry." you suggest.
you have always offered kakashi the freedom to shower alone, but as he stands in front of the running shower, he almost looks pained at the offer. it's nearly comical. kakashi, crowned with the moniker of 'friend killer,' is looking at you as if you've kicked one of his ninken. the same anbu captain who could walk alone into enemy lines without fear, was finding the prospect of being alone more daunting than any mission assigned to him.
your heart aches.
"i know you don't want to be alone… but you know i won't be far, kakashi."
"will you come back?"
you're surprised at how easily that question comes out of his mouth. as if it doesn't go against his moral fibre. he spent years convincing himself that solitude was the safer option, and yet, he wants you to be around. even if it's just for a shower that won't last past a couple of minutes.
"of course i will, kakashi. always."
he doesn't break eye contact while you speak. you end up breaking it with the turn of your body anyways, but you can still feel his stare searing into your back.
"kakashi." your voice is firm. "i'll be here."
and he believes you.
blood, blood, blood.
without anybody to shield him from the danger that is his mind, it's easier for him to be swept by threats of the past trickling into his present. every droplet of water that falls on his trembling skin is red in his head. blood, blood, blood. he can taste the iron in his mouth, he can feel its ugly, warm viscosity seeping into his flesh and staining his skin. it won't go away. the blood he bears for the sins he committed outside have followed him into your fortress of sanity, and it's all his fault. it won't go away.
with his sunken head in his hands, and with the warm water falling onto his hair, kakashi doesn't even realise that tears are falling down his face. he thinks the sound of the shower is loud enough to conceal the sounds of him sobbing, but when he hears the bathroom door open, he knows that's not true, and he knows that he can't hide from you any longer.
his vision is obscured, covered by a film of watery saltiness that makes the world around him seem blurry. he can make out a shape that vaguely resembles you through the tears. he blinks once through his tears, blinks twice, and feelings of safety wash over him as you come into clarity.
cooking for him would have to wait. you don't care about the fact that you're getting your clothes wet when you reach out to him, arms outstretched. his soaking body clings onto you, with strong arms securing you with a brace that so tight, that it echoes his deepest fear: that you will leave him alone again.
"i'm here, kakashi," you whisper in his ear. "it's alright. i'm here."
you don't care how many times you have to repeat this consolation. it would be true each and every time.
the dried blood from the latest mission rinses off his skin, and pours into the drain. when you're around, the blood actually goes away. he feels absolved of his guilt when you're scrubbing it away with a soapy washcloth. his brain cannot bother him with the final screams of whoever he was tasked to kill, so long as your sweet voice continues to hum the tune that he's begun to memorise on each of his visits.
kakashi hated the smell of drawn blood. it was sharp, metallic, and invaded his nose until he could smell nothing else. he's come to relish in your scent, though. right now, it was your shampoo. it smells like sweetness, like comfort, like home—like everything he dreams of when he's out on a mission. a low, rumbling purr vibrates in his chest as your fingers scratch along his scalp. he could stay like this forever.
but when the warm water stops, and when he feels your hands leave his hair, he lets out something of a groan. a dissatisfied one. your lips pressing against the nape of his neck serve to soothe him.
“sorry, kakashi," you speak between soft kisses. "let's get up and get dressed, yeah?”
he doesn't speak, but you know he's listening because he allows you to pat him dry with a towel. his eyes had drifted shut in the shower, but he still doesn't open them, despite the fact that the shower is over. he didn’t need to see. not when you were there to watch his back.
"heads up." you warn.
for the first time in a while, kakashi feels himself smiling, even if it's just a small one. you're patting his face dry with the towel like he's delicate. maybe it's the sheer absurdity of it all. if anything, he should be handling you with such care. he doesn't think he deserves it, but he still lets you massage lotion into his skin like it matters—like he matters. when you're done talking him through every product in your cabinet, you both leave the steamy bathroom and return to your bedroom. you hand him a clean pair of clothes, just for the night, and he wears them, savouring the smell of freshly washed fabric against his smoothened skin.
your bed is soft.
the mattress mirrors your generosity with its size, with it being large enough to accomodate both of your laying bodies. it felt like a luxury to kakashi, but not compared to the warmth of your body. that was the richest luxury of them all.
his arms are wrapped around your waist, with his face pressed against your chest. the gentle heat of your skin sinks into his weary flesh, and it makes him forget about the light ache in his muscles. he counts the lengths of your breaths, and the metronome of your heartbeat in his ear lulls him into a state of near-peace.
it would've been complete peace if it weren't for the way this world functioned. kakashi starts to wonder about what life could've been like if the world was different. he starts to think about what life could've been if he weren't in the anbu; if he weren't a shinobi; if he wasn't born into a system that required violence. he could have this kind of peace every single day, and maybe, he could indulge in you without shame.
maybe, he could bring himself to tell you that he loves you. he could really get attached.
in this darkness, kakashi opens his eyes and shifts his irises to look at you. your sleeping face looks like it's found the peace he thinks about. he moves his eyes to look at your chest as it rises and falls.
there's blood beneath that precious skin of yours. warm, running blood. images of kannabi bridge and cold bodies flash through his memory like lightning, and kakashi, drunk on your warmth, holds your body even tighter to stave off the chills that run through his spine. he tosses, and buries his face in your chest like the past has come to chase him. the images linger for an awful moment, taunting him almost, before your hand runs itself through his hair. the visions then fade into a thick mist, leaving not a single trace behind.
"kakashi…" you speak softly.
he stops moving when you talk, and he holds his breath for a moment. he listens to your heartbeat. the sound of your blood pumping, giving you life. you're here. he's here. and finally, he releases the pent-up breath that relieves him on its exhale.
"i love you…" the words come out in a sleepy haze.
kakashi leans in to the softness of your breasts, right where your heart beats. rather than tearing your heart open, he presses a kiss there instead.
he loves you too.
a/n: wow this is probably the first SFW work I've dropped on this blog... (😳) this thought has been itching my head for the past idk how many months. ugh kakashi ily
i seriously need to make this google form to see what characters you guys wanna be tagged for, but in the meantime if you wanna be tagged for kakashi works #LMK! i hope u guys like this!
content: general headcanons (sfw), romantic headcanons (sfw) + sexual headcanons (nsfw)
w/c: 2.8k words
ˎˊ˗ art credit: @sso_s__ on X
general headcanons:
gaara tends to participate in hobbies that are associated with older people.
gaara’s role as a jinchuriki meant that during his childhood, he was rarely ever perceived for what he fundamentally was: a child. there was no time to build sandcastles or play games with temari and kankuro. he had to grow up quickly. which explains why he's gardening, doing needlework, and birdwatching when he hasn't even reached 20. he'd fuck up some bingo too if you gave him the chance idc
sunagakure appears to draw its inspiration from north african, south asian, and west asian culture. if he could be assigned a real-world ethnicity, i can definitely see him being from that region. i’m personally torn between him being levantine (syrian, lebanese, palestinian, jordanian) or egyptian.
gaara has his ears pierced: he has standard lobes, and second lobes. suna has alternative medical practices of their own that are similar to ayurveda. they believe that piercing his ears maintains the flow of his chakra, and prevents any obstructions from shukaku.
as he grows older, gaara starts to take a greater interest in personal hygiene and self-care beyond the standard water, soap, and lotion. temari gets him into skincare. he’d also find a personal fragrance, and stay with it for the rest of his life.
with that being said, i can see him smelling like oud, amber, or tonka beans—all three of which are quite popular scents in sunagakure. gaara also enjoys burning bakhoor on special occasions, like upon the arrival of a guest, for instance.
i love pale gaara as much as the next person, but he literally lives in a desert. he’s totally capable of tanning. it's only thanks to the sand shield that he has managed to stay so fair in complexion for so long.
gaara would totally have sun-bleached hair! there's so many varying colours in his strands, ranging from rich and deep copper to bright red. kankuro has definitely laughed at how gaara becomes borderline ginger when the sun stays out for longer.
he knows every fairuz (and by extension, every ziad rahbani) song like the back of his hand. he starts off every morning with her music.
saaltak habibi, saalouny el nas, adesh kan fi nas, and dhia anou are personal favourites of his.
his body temperature runs more on the cold side. he is always cold to the touch. nobody knows why.
gaara enjoys theatre and performance arts in general. the idea of becoming a different person while remaining the same fascinates him. he also enjoys puppetry.
does not like horror films and ironically, can't stand films with gore in them. he likes slice-of-life films, preferably ones with a happy ending.
he has a reddit account just to ask ridiculously specific questions.
has become somewhat of a local celebrity on r/NoStupidQuestions
sometimes he sucks ass at social media it's not even funny. temari, kankuro, and shikamaru have all had to help him extensively with online etiquette.
gaara prizes his loved ones above all else. he saves letters from them all. usually, he exchanges letters with naruto, lee, his siblings, and of course, little shikadai.
sometimes him and fuu gossip. gaara doesn't realise its gossiping, but he indulges in it though... he's lowkey messy
sasuke has a snark page on reddit and he is the most active member on it.
he used to wear red because it would hide bloodstains easier, but somewhere down the road, it just became his favourite colour. crimson red, specifically.
he doesn't play about the texture of his clothes. he fucking hates polyester and he’d rather die before he puts that shit on!
tea culture is prevalent in sunagakure and gaara is not a stranger to it. he enjoys mint tea with no sugar. gaara also enjoys noon chai because it's not sweet.
you will never see a teabag in his house either. it’s all loose leaf! yes, we are boiling it in the pot over the stove. what kettle?
he likes the beach... for obvious reasons.
poor gaara doesn't exactly have the best immune system. prolonged sleeplessness really fucked him over.
he isn't a big animal person, nor is he one to keep a pet. the only way he’d keep a pet is if it were a more self-sufficient animal that doesn't need much taking care of. he’d probably like an outdoor cat.
romantic headcanons:
gaara has the potential to be attracted to anybody. his sexuality isn't defined by sex itself. he's attracted to kindness, strength, and people who are accepting.
gaara is not exactly fond of diffidence in a partner. he doesn't appreciate people who are afraid to speak their mind around him. people who withdraw their tongues, people who tip-toe around him and act like they're walking on eggshells... he favours high self esteem and sureness in a partner. just keep it real with him icl
a person who has confidence is a person who can unlock the doors that leads to gaara’s heart. please, make it egregiously evident that you don't fear him in the slightest. he has already had more than his maximum dose of the world receiving him with hesitance. being indiscriminate with your treatment of others, including himself, is likely to get his respect. act like you know who you are.
gentleness is key, but don't make it excessive. if you treat gaara like he's about to break, he's not going to appreciate that. approach him with firmness and recognise that his story is one of strength. the things gaara has endured does not make a weak person in the slightest.
romance with gaara is a slow-moving one where patience is a pre-requisite. he needs time to bloom, and it's very likely that a close friendship will need to be established before anything romantic can happen.
gaara has never had a romantic crush before. he's coming to the realisation that he doesn't feel this way about any of his other close friends either. it's just you.
he'd notice the signs of him having a crush the same way someone else would notice symptoms of a fever, a cold, or some other medical condition.
he'd notice that his heart beats a bit faster around you. that his mouth gets a little bit drier, that his palms feel clammier than usual. he feels more whole when you are around, and conversely, he feels like there is a void in his heart when you aren't around.
he'd definitely speak to temari or kankuro about it, because he is unable to define these feelings as a crush. he trusts them to accurately put a label on this newfound feeling, and promptly give him guidance.
now, romantic attraction is a fresh emotion for gaara. if you're attracted to him, you have to be very clear about your attraction to him. usually, you're the one who has to make the first moves, especially in the early stages of your relationship.
something tells me that he'd find your insistence charming: you're inviting him to go to places with you; you're asking him out to dinner, and overall, just showing a genuine interest in him as a person even if he's being passive. you're seriously going out of your way to spend time with him. he finds it very endearing.
it's easy to fluster gaara. no, he isn't steaming and getting red in the face. he's clearing his throat and shrinking himself, very very subtly. it's because he doesn't know how to handle the kind of attention you're showering him in. when it comes from you, being called fine, or handsome, or beautiful makes him feel shy. he still can't believe that someone is seeing him so fondly.
at first, gaara kisses with his eyes open. in his youth, gaara was told that acts of intimacy were not designed for pleasure, but instead, were designed with the sole purpose of distracting him; of making him more vulnerable and easy to harm. he keeps his eyes open as a means of remaining vigilant. once he realises that your intimacy is a safe space, he closes his eyes.
(his mouth tastes like mint because that's his favourite tea)
similarly, he finds it easier to sleep around you. his body registers you as a sanctuary where he doesn't have to defend himself, because he's finally come to understand that your affection does not come with a devastating price. you're not waiting to catch him with his guard down or anything, you really just love him to the point where you'll let him shut down without a cost.
he doesn't really use pet names, because your name itself is the celebration of your existence. it is beautiful to him on its own, so he will just say your name. maybe "beloved," sometimes.
gaara would say “i love you” sparingly. that's not to say gaara doesn't love you. he does. it's to say that there are other expressions of love that transcends words.
he doesn't care about words when he can just hold you after a long days worth of work. when he can taste the sweetness of your lips. when he can plant your favourite flower in his greenhouse and give it to you. gaara takes action.
his actions are as quiet as they are loud. he is a listener. he's always making mental notes on you, even on the things you mention in passing that you think are small and irrelevant. he commits every fact about you to his memory.
you condition him to enjoy physical touch as time passes. gaara's skin has been touched before, and before that, almost never. he's felt bruising kicks and punches, but never once has he felt the tenderness of your hands massaging into his scalp. he knew softness could be an option, but he didn't think he could receive it. he wants more of you. eventually, he starts to seek touch on his own.
holding hands, interlocking fingers, hugging, arms wrapped around your waist, cuddling, wanting you to sit in his lap... he is climbing up the ladder!
kiss the scar on his face. please. show him that he does not have to rely on himself for love anymore. you are also here.
seeing you laughing and having a good time with his siblings is the ultimate green flag for him. he can literally see a lifetime with you in that moment.
when gaara is with you, he's going to be with you for life. if the relationship ends in any way, be it death, cheating (GOD FORBID), or just a general break up, gaara will be devastated, and i doubt he'll find love again. he is terrible at "casual." love is an immense act of transparency that he takes seriously! you are his first, you are his last.
sexual headcanons (NSFW beyond this point):
we have established this very well, but gaara is a virgin. he doesn't even bat an eye over the thought of losing his virginity to you, though. he understands that you will cross that bridge when you get there and that there's no rush.
gaara would not wait until marriage to have sex. he doesn't subscribe to the notion that virginity equates to purity.
sexual compatibility is not a proper concern for him. he could go through a lifetime of celibacy if he wanted. your emotional bond and the romantic relationship that's built on it are wayyyy more important to him than sex.
he is not opposed to sex, though. gaara will always make sure that you're pleased.
you are both going to have extensive and uncomfortable conversations about where your boundaries start and end. gaara does not like surprises. he wants you to lay out all your cards on the table for him to memorise. he doesn't want to entertain the risk of hurting you, or making you uncomfortable whatsoever.
your first time with gaara probably isn't going to be spontaneous. there's a lot of talk you're having in regards to sex at this time, and in one of those talks, you are definitely planning when you're gonna put it on him. you're both busy people. the time needs to be right. you need to ensure nobody will disturb you, and that you're both comfortable
it can be difficult to tell when gaara's turned on. he's fairly good at suppressing his emotions in general, but particularly his desire.
there's a few signs that jump out at you, though. sometimes, he can't keep eye contact with you for long. when he sits, he crosses and uncrosses his legs more than usual. there seems to be longer silences that go beyond him taking a moment to think...
when gaara was younger, he was instructed by his handlers to be wary against sex and all forms of carnal desire. he was informed that lust was a destructive state that could render him a useless human weapon in suna's arsenal.
which is why it's so hard to tell when he's turned on. he doesn't want to prove them right, but to an extent, they are. he's helpless against his desire, against you. he doesn't like lacking control over himself, but you make his self-control slip anyways. the influence you have over him scares him a little.
as a result, he loves it when you let him know that it's okay to indulge in you. the doors are locked, the blinds are drawn, the lights are off, and it's just you two bathing in candlelight. everything goes, everything is allowed. "touch me here," "touch me there," oh, he loves it.
in general, gaara loves it when you take the lead in the bedroom. it's a respite from his position of authority as kazekage. for once, he's the one receiving orders and instructions instead of being the one giving them. you guide him with such clarity, that he can't help but feel compelled to obey. he can turn his mind off. he doesn't have to think on the behalf of thousands right now. he can just think for you, and that's perfect.
FOREPLAY!
gaara is overly into foreplay. he lives for your hands rubbing over his body. he loves it when you kiss him all over, when you suck at his skin like you're hungry for him. he loves the simmering tension that rises every time you grind against each other through your clothes. his heart is racing with excitement.
he could literally just dry hump and make out with you all day and be totally fine with not going any further.
definitely a body worshipper. sex with you functions as a platform where he can express his gratitude. in the best way possible, he cannot believe you're real. he has to convince himself by touching every part of your body and leaving kisses in its wake.
there isn't a pattern to the roles gaara assumes during sex. it's very easy for him to switch depending on the day and the mood. he can easily alternate between a more submissive role, and a more dominant role. if you want him to fuck your brains out, he can do that for you. if you wanna be the one fucking his brains out, he'll let that happen. he's very receptive to YOUR needs.
touched on here, but i lowk see him as a service sub. as mentioned earlier, gaara is a man of action. he finds fulfilment in serving you. whether it's washing your hair in the shower, gardening for you, drawing you a bath, or clearing the clutter on your desk, he will do anything in his power to make you pleased. it gives him a sense of purpose outside of being the kazekage.
ordinary behaviour become part of a prolonged foreplay that excites you both. he thrives on the knowledge that you will reward him for his service in the bedroom.
gaara tries his hardest to keep his work life and his private life separate. but if at any point you let a "lord kazekage" slip out of your lips... he's going to be thinking about that for a while. he really likes it when you say it. maybe he'll get you to say that when he's driving his dick into you.
gaara enjoys being talked to during sex. it doesn't necessarily have to be dirty talk, but just words that assure him that you ARE, in fact, having a good time. he'll even ask you straight up, "am i doing well?" take that opportunity to praise him, please.
be shameless with him. as mentioned in the romantic headcanons, do not treat him like something fragile. sex is part of the emotional bond you both share. restraining yourself, or being too gentle will make him think you don't trust him enough to handle all that. PUT IT ON HIM! do tricks on it! trust that he'll tell you when it's enough. have faith in him.
his favourite places to be touched includes his neck and his inner thighs. if you kiss him in either of those places, he will be rock hard.
lowkey, he's into watching you masturbate.
he wants to hear each breath you take and each moan that comes out of your mouth. he wants to see what kind of facial expressions you make when you're being absorbed by pleasure. he wants to watch you cum, knowing that you did it because you love him. because he exists.
he also loves watching the way your hands move when you bring yourself to climax. it's like he's piecing together a puzzle. so this is how you touch yourself. he's making a mental note.
gaara doesn't care about whether or not he cums. for him, the purpose of sex isn't to finish. it's more about physical and psychological intimacy; to get even closer to you. sex with you is the ultimate act of vulnerability. you have stripped him down to the final layer. he is literally laid bare before you. cumming would be great, but it's just not as important as you and how you feel in that moment. if you cum, that's good enough for him.
your boyfriend, rock lee, comes home drunk and he can't keep his hands off of you ‧₊˚ ⋅‧₊˚ ⋅ (18+)
inspo track: drunk in love - beyoncé
w/c: 1.4k words
you know that it's well past midnight when your bedtime routine is sharply interrupted by the sound of knuckles pummelling against your door. the sound comes and goes, but the rhythm and force remains consistent each time.
knock, knock, knock!
it wouldn't be unusual to hear a knock or two on your door in general, but receiving them so late at night made it exactly that. the better of your wisdom encourages you to not answer it—to simply ignore whoever it is behind the door that wants your attention. it'll be a problem for your future self. right now, you're fresh out the shower, and you're more concerned about letting your moisturiser absorb.
knock. knock. knock.
they're growing louder in volume now. with their persistence, the knocks are really starting to feel like proper demands for attention. ignoring something so urgent would be sure to result in some sort of consequence. bedrudgingly, you put on your bathrobe and hurry down the stairs to answer the door. when you swing the door open, you're immediately taken aback.
rock lee, your usually gentle boyfriend, is attacking you with kisses to the face, and gripping his large hands onto every part of your body. he can't resist grabbing onto your ass and smoothing his palms over your waist; nor can he resist cupping your supple breasts—nothing is left unscathed.
"fuck, it took you long enough," he slurs slightly.
you can smell sake faintly lingering on his breath, and it doesn't take long for you to realise he's a little drunk. in his completely sober mind, he would never swear. he would never be so forthcoming with his touches either, but part of you—no,—all of you is enjoying this side of lee, if you're being honest with yourself. it's like being in the presence of a totally different person, except, you trust this stranger with your entire heart. sober or not, you know he would never want to hurt you.
"no. it took you long enough," you cup his cheeks. "you should be sleeping."
"why would i do that?" he presses his lips to your jaw as his hands tease along your body. "is it that you don't want me here? is that it, angel?"
"lee-" you gasp, "of course not, baby. i do want you around."
"you do?" he whispers against your ear, nibbling your earlobe. "isn't that perfect, y/n? i want you too..."
with a firm grip, he grabs your shoulders and spins you, leaving your back turned to him. his hands then proceed to travel to your hips, grasping them as to push your ass flush against his body. you bite your lip at the friction. you can't help the way you arch your back as he shamelessly rocks his aching erection against you.
his hands are sneaking under the fabric of your robe, rolling your nipples between his calloused fingers. sloppy kisses and swipes of his tongue lavish your neck as he mumbles. the pleasure makes you throw your head back, with a drawn out hum escaping you in doing so. you can feel yourself getting wetter by the minute. all you can do is sigh and smile at how ridiculous this situation is. you've only just showered, and now he's tempting you to roll in filth.
"y/nnnn…" lee whines. "listen to me! it makes me upset when you ignore me, angel…"
"hhah—yeah, yeah," you blink out of your erotic trance. "are you sure, lee? will you remember this in the morning, baby?"
lee, in his drunken euphoria, chuckles breathily at your question. "mm....maybe. maybe i will." his hands grip onto the flesh of your belly.
"but..." he kisses your neck. "if i don't, you can tell me about it, and maybe we could do it alllllll over again. just so i can remember. okay—hic!—angel?"
that's how you ended up bent over on the mattress, with lee pounding into your pussy from the back. he's pushing in-between your shoulder blades, keeping your chest pressed against the bed. each roll of his hips into your slick cunt is leaving you breathless and out of your mind.
your bathrobe is an afterthought ditched on the floor. a film of sweat is clinging onto your skin, superseding the lotion you put on a few minutes prior. so much for getting clean.
his breath comes out in ragged pants behind you.
"do you have any idea how f-fucking good you feel, y/n?" he attempts to silence his moans by sinking his teeth into your shoulder, but to no avail. "i love this, i love you… so—ahh—so fucking good…"
you love every bit of this too. you love the sound of skin-on-skin as he thrusts into you, the deep plunge of his cock, the unapologetic curses that fall from his mouth, and the way his hands never seem to be satisfied with just one part of your body. every last bit of it excites you.
"lee!" you cry on a particularly sharp thrust, turning your head around to look at him. "m-more, i need more, baby!"
he's on fire.
lee's hands abandon your back, and instead, latch onto your wrists. he pulls back, stretching your arms straight as he drives even deeper into you with his dick—each movement more powerful than the last. you can feel him in your guts, hitting that sweet spot with devastating accuracy.
you're at a loss for words. your vision is growing spotty around the corners. it's far too good. all you can think about is the feeling of his cock shifting your insides, and the dangerous feeling of pressure accumulating in your lower belly. with each slam of his length, you can feel that pressure getting closer and closer to being released.
and you know it's not so far. you can hear it in the wet, sloppy squelching that bounces off the walls with every snap of his pelvis.
"tell me, angel," he pants, pulling your wrists tighter. it brings your heads closer together. "tell me that it's all mine, that you are just for me…"
you try your best to speak between moans. "y-yours," you gasp, "nghh—it's yours, baby, all of it!"
"mmmmm... yes, yes it is… you're all i want…"
he delivers the final thrust to make you cum, resulting in your pussy clamping down around his dick. you break when it happens, with a mouth wide open calling his name, and eyes sealed shut as you arch your back further than what your body would usually permit. your walls drool around his cock, massaging it with its pulsations until he cums after you with a filthy moan.
he leans forwards, continuing the moans in your ears. every inch of his cock gets shoved inside of you, and he stills there, spurting what feels like an endless volume of hot cum into your pussy. you can feel his hips stuttering, and his cock twitching inside you.
with the final spill of his seed, he pulls out, and goes limp like a puppet with severed strings. with your wrists freed, you collapse and lay your belly on the bed. he does the same, surrounding you with the heat of his sweat-glazed body as he slumps forwards on top of your back. you're cradled by his muscular arms, loosely circled around you while he presses kisses to the top of your head.
lee is completely and utterly satiated. first with drink, and now, with your pussy. he could die a happy man right here, right now.
"you are so warm… " he mutters against your skin. "you make me feel warm."
"i do? that's sweet of you, baby," you chuckle breathily, "so do you."
he hums. "i love you, y/n," a kiss to your shoulder. "the prettiest flower… that is what you are."
"yeah?"
"in every way, angel."
his words come out clumsy and soft, but you know they're intentional and driven by love. for the time being, there's no words. just the soft ambience of your shared breathing. however, you notice that lee's breaths are starting to match the rhythm of someone seconds away from passing out.
"lee?" you call, gently. "lee...?"
there's no answer. when you guess correctly, you can't help but to smile. he's out cold against you, with the softest of snores puffing onto your skin.
you know what? maybe it is fine to skip your night routine.
just this once.
a/n: drunken fist but instead of him being a safety hazard he just wants to fuck the shit out of you UGH... i've been having this thought for a minute now but i reeeaally didn't wanna come off the wrong way. i hope you guys are seeing my Vision... #surfboard #grindingonthatwood
the World Cup has genuinely fucking traumatised me today. 2 African countries KILLED IN LESS THAN 24 HOURS including my own (🇨🇩) and our coloniser (🇧🇪) won on the same day??? england, belgium, you are finished.
i was actually gonna send dio and the akatsuki to ur door, but his mug is Lethal and we still have one day of pride month left so im just gonna let you slide. #WatchOutNora
