i’m blaileen, or mrs blaileen if you’re feeling extra polite. (<20’s, any pronouns despite the username).
warnings. 18+ nsfw mdni. may contain dark themes and hard & soft kinks. the epitome of “oh no it’s the authors barely concealed kink!”. if you don’t like, please don’t read - to be cringe is to be free!!
this is a side blog, so unfortunately I can’t follow back, but trust I will be lurking on my main.
while my works are generally not intended to be exclusively aimed at readers with/of any particular physical attributes/gender expression/sexuality/ethnicity/race/background - you may find some descriptions of mc/reader are more inline with my own identity.
requests are open!! but please note that I will decline or simply not write any prompts that I’m not comfortable with/interested in! (I also may take a little time to respond, please don’t be offended - I truly appreciate every message!)
I will not write: incest, anything other than fluff for underage characters, cheating tropes …
likes, reblogs, kudos, and comments are always appreciated.
😵💫 made me a lil lightheaded just thinking about it phewwww
the thing about toji is that he’d looooooove a brat too. loves letting you run your mouth, talk back, throw as many tantrums and insults at him as you like while he just watches with a lazy smile - content to let you wear yourself out. that is until you poke just a bit too hard, and suddenly his smile is a little sharper, grip a little tighter, and you find yourself face down and drooling before the next childish insult can even form on your tongue…
unfortunately Gojo being a lowkey paypig IS super hot to me… like yes he gets hard when you shamelessly max out his credit cards and drain his spending accounts then ask for more…
Sukuna with his fingers hooked either side of your mouth, pulling your teeth apart and making you drool all over yourself while he hits it from the back…
thinking about Geto stuffing your used panties into your pussy just to keep the last load he dumped there from leaking out before you both head off to dinner… then he follows you to the bathroom later and pulls them out just to make you wear them through dessert…
thinkin about Sukuna who doesn’t like when you have to leave early for work, so he leaks all that frustration out into the fresh pair of panties you laid out for the day, then makes you wear them all sticky and soiled just so you don’t forget who you’re coming back home to…
first off, i can’t explain how much I appreciate reading chubby/fat/etc reader fanfics! It genuinely has made me realize that I need to stop hating my body for not being super thin (nothing wrong with being thin if your healthy, but let’s be honest our society obv prefers women to be that way so seeing representation matters so much :p)
second off, would you ever be open to slight discussion of chronic illnesses in your fanfics? I know, not a “sexy” topic per se, but like having it be in either some fluff work or like how jjk men would navigate such things in some more smut witting?
regardless still just want to say thank you for your writing so much!!! It just really helps me feel seen and I know so many others feel the same way too 🤍🤍🤍
hello my friend, I’m so sorry this took me so long to reply to, and thankyou so much for your kind words!
it means so much that my writing could help you feel more comfortable in your skin, as someone who struggles with self image myself it’s so rewarding to hear!! <3
I’m absolutely open to the idea of exploring chronic illnesses in fic! I’d want to do some research prior (depending on the illness) to feel confident that I’m representing it truthfully and to the best of my ability.
edging choso until he’s jelly in your lap, until all he can manage to do is blink down at where you’re stroking him with teary low-lidded eyes, huffing out strangled little moans. It’s not long until he’s close again, squirming against you and dribbling sticky over the mess of his toned thighs. and when you purr into his ear for him to “say the magic words”, the only thing that slips out from his bitten lips is a breathy little “I love you…”
reader who was Geto’s kouhai and had a crush on him during their school days. You spiral into a depression after Geto’s death, an empty hole in your chest where your heart used to be left in his wake, so when Kenjaku appears wearing the face of your old flame it doesn’t take long - or much convincing from that silver tongue of his - before you find yourself beneath him, gazing up at that familiar smile stretched just a little too wide at the edges. He moves above you lithe and serpentine, and you press your palms over his forehead, desperate to hide the seam of stitches dotted there while he gazes down at you, dark eyes glimmering with a perverse sort of delight, tenfold when you start to cry…
As much as I love sub crybaby bottom Choso, I also love service top Choso who’s definitely subservient, but not quite in a submissive way. nsfw 18+ drabble mdni.
──── ୨୧ ────
Choso is the type of devoted that ensures he knows exactly what you need at any time day or night, because he pays attention to your body language like it’s his favourite hobby. Keeps tabs on every minute twitch of your thighs, every hitch of your breath or flutter of your lashes the same way he tracks how much water you’ve drank in a day, or the last time you ate something. He’s the type to let you sink down on his cock or grind against his mouth whenever you please. He’ll abandon whatever menial task he was doing prior, immediately consumed by you, utterly devoted to taking you apart - wringing orgasm after dizzying orgasm out of you until your legs have turned to jelly and all you can manage to do is slur out some breathy sound in the vague shape of his name.
No matter how long it takes, how red raw he feels, he’ll keep going until you’re well and truly satisfied, and then some. Using all of that inhuman endurance to keep you stuffed nice and full until you’re literally begging him to stop. He’ll peer down at you with those big brown eyes, low lidded and hazy and oh so full of love, murmuring sweet little coos of “right here, huh baby? feels good right here?” while he rubs messy hearts over your clit. You’re barely over your last orgasm - erring on overstimulated when he pushes you right against the edge again with a few well placed thrusts, “what’s that? you want another one?” because the only way he feels accomplished is with you sobbing in pleasure and utterly boneless after he’s broken you.
rlly into the flavour of chonao (naocho?) recently where choso is adamant that he can change naoya’s shitty attitude, and naoya is tsundere asf trying to act like he’s not popping a boner every time choso praises him when he does something “right”. he holds a door open for an old woman, or - god forbid - actually apologises to someone, and choso just beams proudly at him, fixing him with a warm smile and an affirming pat on the shoulder like he’s a fucking toddler who just learned how to share for the first time. it’s humiliating, but he can’t deny the way his chest feels a little tighter at the sight of choso so goddamn pleased, and the mix of genuine warmth and physical contact goes straight down to naoya’s cock.
husband!nanami calms you down after you have a meltdown trying to find something to wear
warnings. fem!reader, body worship, praise, kissing, clit play, body image issues, nipple play, implied plus sized reader but read how you like, general insecurities, fluffy smut. nsfw 18+ mdni.
──── ୨୧ ────
You’d been trying to get dressed for the last hour.
More precisely, you’d been trying to find anything at all that didn’t make you feel bloated, or oddly proportioned, or downright ugly to wear to your husband’s very important work event, which also just so happened to be happening very soon.
You’d torn your shared wardrobe apart. Scattered every dress or piece of party attire you think you’d ever owned across every square inch of your bedroom, and yet here you stood, buck naked aside from the old band shirt you’d tugged on in a furious fit after the last dress you’d tried on had made you feel like a trussed up Christmas turkey.
With tears prickling hotly in your eyes and a sob threatening to break free in your throat, you tossed yourself onto your bed. Wallowing amidst a plethora of abandoned gowns and several shoes missing their pairs.
Your husband, for all his patience and tact, had remained at your side throughout the ordeal. Silent aside from a few well intended comments which, by no fault of his own, had only left you spiralling further.
He now settled onto the bed beside you, a quiet, steady presence. You listened to the gentle creak of the mattress dipping beneath his weight as he leaned over you, studying your expression with a concerned one of his own.
“Kento,” you huffed, “I’m trying to- ah…”
The sudden heat of his fingers stole any further words from you, his hand slipping between your bare thighs with a precision that was almost alarming.
“I know sweetheart, I know,” he soothed, like his fingers weren’t beginning to tease over your clit, rubbing slow firm circles into you, “but you’re going to work yourself into a state.”
Your jaw was slack, glossy eyes downturned just to watch his wrist curl between your thighs, which had split almost immediately either side of his forearm.
“Just relax for me, just for a minute.”
The circles he was drawing were beginning to sound wet, sloppy where you were easing into his touch, body betraying you in favour of the delicious friction of his fingers.
“That’s it, that’s my good girl,” he cooed, leaning in to brush his lips over your throat, feel the gentle hum of your pulse against his lips as his spare hand thumbed at the hem of your shirt.
“You’re worried over nothing, you look beautiful in everything.”
You shook you head limply, but he didn’t back down, instead the hand petting at the hem of your shirt stilled, then lifted, slowly peeling the fabric up. The reveal was slow, inch by inch new of skin - your hips, the curve of your belly, the soft peaks of your chest - until your entire abdomen lay bare atop the crinkled sheets.
“Ken,” you huffed, lower lip pushed out into a pout as you blinked down at your exposed body past the crumpled neck of your shirt, the same valley of bumps and dips and curves that were the very source of your agitation.
Nanami ignored your argument, instead lowering his chin to press a slow, open mouthed kiss to your stomach before he eased back to reply.
“What is it my love?” He questioned innocently, breath curling warm over your bare stomach, sticky where he’d left glistening lip prints.
“Stop,” you managed, though it was evident that your heart wasn’t in it, much to preoccupied in watching the way his lashes fluttered as he pressed another kiss to your skin, this time just below the curve of your breast where your heart was fluttering like a caged canary. “it’s embarrassing…”
“Embarrassing?” Nanami echoed, lifting his head to meet your gaze, “You really want me to stop?”
The hand petting between your spread thighs slowed, and he blinked up at you with those tired, beautiful eyes that made your chest ache. The simple sight of that endless honey brown was enough to melt you, gazing into your eyes like you’d hung the very stars.
You found yourself shaking your head, and the corners of his lips lifted into a smile, worried lines worn smooth between his knitted brows.
“Then you’ll have to allow me a few kisses, deal?”
The movement of his hand resumed, dipping down just far enough to gather some of your wetness before he was pressing the slick pads of his fingers to your clit again, rubbing in sweet tight little heart shapes now.
“Oh… okay, okay…”
You sighed and let your head fall backward, nestled between pillows as your eyes fluttered closed and you allowed yourself to wade deeper into the soothing bliss he was offering.
Nanami worked dutifully below your line of sight. Fingers rolling in sinful strokes, each press of his lips bolder than the last until finally they sealed flat around a perked nipple and he began suckling lightly.
You arched into the sensation, spine curved and chest lifted to meet the wet heat of his mouth as he moved.
“Oh, Ken…”
He groaned softly, the sound thick with adoration. His teeth grazed gently over the sensitive bud before he moved to the next and administered the same treatment. Laving a fresh burst of kisses over the swell of your breast before sucking the pebbled nub into his mouth, tongue swirling beneath the vacuumed pressure.
You found yourself teetering on the edge much quicker than you’d have liked to admit, testament to just how on edge you were, and how well your husband read your body. With the steady rub of his fingers and the hot press of his lips peppering your skin, the sticky heat blooming in your belly peaked swiftly - tightening to a coiled knot which snapped with the next well placed nip of his teeth.
Nanami worked you through it, fingers slowing but not stopping until you whined, crossing into the realm of overstimulation, and he lifted away to instead trace gentle shapes into your twitching thigh.
In the sizzling afterglow you lay panting into the messed sheets, head tilted to take in the sight of your husband as he adjusted his frames and smoothed your shirt back over your chest. Not missing the way his eyes caught on the sight of his sucking marks blooming over your skin.
“You’re too good at that, Ken,” you breathed, voice utterly softened by pleasure.
“Not too good,” Nanami replied smoothly, leaning in to speak the next words against your lips, “exactly what you deserve.”
With that he lifted his chin to press a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth, though it landed wayward when you tilted your head to instead capture his lips in a cheeky kiss.
He indulged you, let you hum into his mouth, run your tongue over his lips until he yielded. You shivered when his lips parted, and you finally felt the silky heat of his tongue against your own.
He split from you as the kiss deepened, just shy of too heavy to pull back from. Though he looked a little pained by the notion, cheekbones and the tips of his ears dusted a sweet rosy pink.
“What about the blue dress?” You offered, lifting your hand to tuck a stray strand of gold behind his blushed ear, “the silk one, the one I wore to your office party last spring.”
Nanami exhaled, and all the weight of the world seemed to melt away with the motion. His head tilted into your touch, where your knuckles had abandoned his hair in favour of drawing slow soothing lines over his cheekbones.
“You know, that’s my favourite.”
You smiled at that, chest and cheeks warm.
“Sure it is, Ken.”
────────────────────────
a/n. written in honour of me genuinely sobbing trying to get dressed this morning so not proofread yippeeeee, anyway live laugh love nanami <3
