Please The Way You Fed Me With That Eremin Ask I'm So Full!!!! Ugh, I Love Jealous Bratty Armin And Dom

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unconditionally love

oh god. oh my god. iwaizumi and milf reader. you're freshly divorced, finding yourself after being in a relationship with you ex, and you're going back to the gym again. you're so nervous about being surrounded by all the beefy gym rats, and you're self conscious about how your belly hasn't never full snapped back after you gave birth, and how much your metabolism has changed and has started to store weight in new places. it never once crosses your mind that the surly looking lifter who is 10 years younger than you, is absolutely panting over you, and thinks about nothing else but pinning you up against the wall and rocking his dick up inside you, and showing you just how strong he is.

Osamu who punishes you by only eating your ass.

No fingering. No pussy eating. No tit grabbing. No blowjobs. Nothing- not even the smallest brush against your clit.

He just eats your ass and refuses to give you anything else, anything more even when you plead so very sweetly and apologize in your prettiest voice and promise to be a good girl.

He'll eat your ass in public to humiliate you and huff whenever you sniffle and protest meekly that it's dirty, grumble that back that you brought it on yourself. When you're teary eyed a week later crawling into his lap and begging him to please just let you suck his cock, he'll push you away and scold you with a blank, stoic face, tell you that your punishment isn't over yet.

It's only when you break down and bawl like the crybaby you are that he'll ease up. He'll gather you into his strong arms and let you blubber into his neck, pet over you patiently and ask if you've learned your lesson- if you're ready to be a good girl; if you're ready to stop being such a brat.

(It might be a bit funny that you can't remember how you ended up in trouble if you weren't so miserable, felt so worthless)

A pathetic, weak "yes, daddy" will earn you a cherished kiss and a hip squeeze, a muttered promise to give you his attention.

If that attention glosses over your pussy and goes straight to your ass, well, Osamu better not here you complain- you're lucky you're getting anything at all

Really, he calls it punishment, but all it is is Osamu slowly molding you into his lil anal queen 💕

I have such a weakness for dilfs so dilf!Osamu pt II—

dilf!Osamu who feels like he's a horny teenager all over again with his cute, younger, and horny girlfriend. Who can barely manage to keep your hands off of him, and who's constantly half-hard because you're always begging for him to put his dick down your throat. Who's so deliriously dizzy with desire when you come from the bed, shamelessly naked, and rub all of your satiny skin all of his dad bod (he's a little self-conscious about his weight, but you're always just salivating for him). Who is constantly undressing you with his eyes, dick perking up with interest whenever he watches your ass as you walk past him. Who finds himself terribly distracted at work, because you sat on his dick before he left for work and now he knows his dick smells like your pussy. Who spends every evening coming back from work shoving you down onto the bed and desperately eating your pussy, because he hasn't stopped thinking about it all day. Who affectionately kisses your swollen pussy lips, fondling them, and relishing the quiet noises you make.

Who spends that first week fucking you like his life depends on it, so he knows exactly how to make you squeal and wail. Exploits each of your weaknesses mercilessly, an entire fucking menace. Who holds you down and to his face with those big and thick arms when he's eating you out, overstimulating you until you're shrieking, sobbing, and drooling. Who loves it when you call him Daddy, and when you look at him adoringly with hearts in your eyes. Who calls you his baby, and sometimes imagines what it would be like if he really was your child's Daddy.

Who sometimes forgets what a menace you can be, too, because you're usually so horny and eager, but quite submissive in bed.

Who makes a noise like he's had the breath knocked right out of his belly when you snake your hand between your bodies and scratch at his belly. His orgasm feels like a fucking explosion and he babbles frantically as his just starts rutting you like he's a fucking dog until he's milked dry.

Who's lecturing you about responsibility only to be cut off when you decide to be a brat and sit on his dick raw for the first time, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. Who has to snag your hip and can barely manage to say anything more than, "holy shit, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK" at the wet squeeze and suck of your pussy. He's lobster red from his hairline down to his chest, chest heaving like he can't breathe, his toes curling, wrapping a finger tightly at the base of his dick and praying that he can stop himself from coming. "You can't do this shit to me, you little brat," he wheezes, dick pulsing urgently, as you grind down on him, your pussy squelching obscenely. "I'm not as young as I used to be. I'll—ughhh, oh fuckk—I'll nut before—nnnh, this fucking pussy, yes—! I mean to!"

Who can only hold on for dear life as you ride him to orgasm after orgasm, begging him to hold on so that his baby girl can cum, because isn't baby girl good? Osamu forgets how vicious that mouth of yours can be. Because you're saying all the right things that are gonna have him creaming all up inside you like he's just a horny teenager. Hasn't his baby been so good, you plead. Baby climbed up on Daddy's dick, rode him so hard that the headboard has been knocking against the wall, isn't she making Daddy feel good? Won't Daddy reward baby with his nut inside her raw pussy? Daddy's gonna be with you forever, so what difference does it make anyways? C'mon Daddy, give her your nut, you're so big and virile—

"You fucking brat," he wails after you scream and squirt all over him for your fourth orgasm, feeling his balls draw up tighter than they have ever drawn up. "You fucking brat, I'm gonna squirt all up inside of you, I'm gonna get you pregnant—!"

He cums loudly, the bed groaning from the force of his thrusting upwards, his entire body shaking and convulsing. He opens his mouth mindlessly as you begin to sob and squirt all over him, your juices splashing all the way up to his chest and face, his eyes glazed over as he presses his thumb against your clit and starts rubbing viciously.

"Get pregnant, bitch," he slurs, as you bawl on top of him, your juices soaking running down his balls and soaking the bed. "Get pregnant, you little brat, you beautiful little shit. Gonna get fat with my baby, gonna be with me forever. Fuck! I love you, baby girl, I love you."

You sob that you love him too, collapsing on top of his broad chest and sobbing and shivering through your orgasm. Osamu grins, pussydrunk and sexed out of his mind. God, he gives the two of you five months before he actually knocks you up, and fuck, if that doesn't wanna make him roll on top of you and sink into you again.

HORNY DILF OSAMU WITH A BREEDING KINK? OH MY GOD????????? I have nothing to add to this except OSAMU WYA let me have your b-babies sob

Supportive!Iwa pt 3 because I just came from a great pole class ✌️

Iwa who tags along to one of your classes and is a little flustered when he walks in and everyone is dressed quite comfortably in underwear and booty shorts. He’s nervous about making any of the other women feel uncomfortable, but they all smile at him and wave (you told all your pole girls about him and they’re determined to make sure he has a wonderful class). Curiously follows along as you undress to just some boy shorts and a tank top, wash your hands with dawn soap, and apply your grip to your hands, inner arms, thighs, knees, shins, and feet. Who is fascinated by the pole-assisted stretches, the light core conditioning, and how attentive the teachers are to accommodate for any injuries. Who watches every move demonstrated closely, asking for a break down of the movements. Who has most of the muscles to do the moves, but whose skin isn’t tough enough and he nearly taps out over just the warm up fan kicks. Who can barely stop himself from swearing the first time he tries climbing the pole, and fails, only to watches in awe as you calmly ascend and simply sit, legs tucked neatly. Who finds himself totally gassed only 30 minutes in, his arms and fingers shaking. Who’s a little embarrassed, but pleased when he successfully completes an ugly fireman’s spin and all the girls in the class erupt into loud cheering. Who finds himself talking to the nearby girls, who give him tips about his grip, balance, and momentum. Who watches you twirl around gorgeously with some of the other girls, laughing and encouraging each other. Who leaves class feeling thoroughly worked, but immensely proud of you and all the skill you’ve accumulated. Who goes back home with you, makes you a delicious meal, and reminds himself to make a batch of the old protein muffins he made in college for himself, so you have a nutritious little post-class snack.

Omg the fact that you do pole classes is amazing and so very sexy because your core muscles must be insanely developed??? And I'm v jealous 😭😭 Iwa at a pole class though is so CUTE and adorable like he's sweating and swearing and very red-faced, but he tries so hard!!!!

And the bit about him making food foor after wahhhh please he would?! You know he started bringing them to the class too for you to share with all your friends and! He just!! He's the best!!!

Women have many belongings. It used to vex Nanami. But it doesn’t anymore.

The first thing to migrate to his home, was your face lotion. He has a face lotion, a perfectly serviceable one, but you insisted on bringing your own. Your routine was important to you, you had told him, and Nanami understood. Routines, rules, structure – these are all things he has always respected, found meaning in. And so, in his bathroom, his drugstore razor, toothbrush, and facewash sat together, lined up like toy soldiers, right next to a luxurious indigo jar of face cream.

The rest of your routine follows shortly: the lilac bottle of mist that smells like aloe, the golden serum that smells like summertime, and the periwinkle tube of your green tea face wash. Your bergamot and sandalwood soap linger on his pillow, and when he can’t smell you on his sheets anymore, longing sits heavy and sticky in his throat.

Your clothes are next. Amidst his practical navy, gray, and blacks, appear pops of warm lilac, royal blue, and torched orange. He doesn’t mind it in the least – it would be entirely unreasonable for him to demand that you stop bringing such colorful clothes in his home, especially when he never really wants you to leave.

When the two of you finally just bite the bullet and put your name on the lease, Nanami imagines that his life will certainly become more colorful. But he doesn’t have the first idea of how many more things will be in his house.

All his life, Nanami has lived quietly, abstemiously. He is a jujutsu sorcerer – while his non-sorcerer peers were learning trigonometry, he was learning how to kill curses and how to die as a soldier dies: with resolve and bravery, to the bitterest end. His life has been fat trimmed from steak, practical solid color towels, plastic storage bins with plenty of clearing near the edge, never packed to capacity. A man who walks on the very edge of life and death doesn’t require more than the necessities. The very few things he indulges in are sensible: good whiskey, grade A rice, custom leather shoes (no broguing) built to take a beating.

You bring in your life to his, and it is completely different. You’re striped linens, fresh flowers, scented candles on every corner. Baby blue drinking glasses shaped like beer cans, artisanal ceramicware made by friends locally. Your life is marked by comfort, simple pleasure, and (dare he say it) the sweetest, most innocent frivolity. He supposes it’s really what he loves most about you, honestly. He’s always tended drawn closer to brighter, bolder personalities: earnest and warm, like Haibara and Itadori, not bombastic and irreverent, like Gojo or Tsukumo. You belong in the same shades of sunlight as Haibara and Itadori, but…tender. Like the dream-like throw of warm, rose tipped dawn that thaws the chill of his lonely apartment.

Now, in the mornings, he doesn’t wake to the desolate silence of a man alone. He wakes to the sound of your fluffy slippers in the kitchen, the smell of dark roast coffee, the sight of your toiletries sitting side by side in the bathroom, cozy and couple-like.

Somewhere between your checker print tea kettle, and the warmth of your body on the sheets, Nanami falls so in love with you that he looks back on his life and wonders how he ever lived, starved of the sun that is you, for so long.

hello! your eremin x reader you sent to poppy made me hyperventilate. i want to die. thank you for your service. i'm gonna go wring out my underwear.

Hello! I’m glad you liked it! Tbh @ringpop-poppy is the one who got me into Eremin, so it was really a love letter to her lol. Happy wringing!

He's alive and happy in our hearts 💕