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thinking about… dating gamer! choso and making a bet with him. you can choose the game, 1v1, winner gets to do what they want to the loser.
you choose a game you know you’re good at but your boyfriend sits back comfortably on your couch with a pretty smile and beats you again and again. and again. first it’s best out of three, then it’s till one wins three rounds, then it’s five till at last you admit defeat.
you try to run away, making a run for it with a giggle but you’re dragged back by the ankle and promptly manhandled onto choso’s lap, big arms wrapping around you as he buries his face in your neck.
you can feel his erection poking at your inner thigh and he hums, almost purring like a cat, nuzzling into you. dark locks tickles your skin and you giggle again.
“you’re mine now,” he states and his teeth graze your skin as he fights the urge to let them sink in till he draws blood.
and it’s supposed to be choso’s reward but it ends up with his head between your thighs, drawing orgasm after orgasm out of you till you’re trembling and crying meanwhile he’s pitifully humping the couch like a fucking loser.
but he thinks it’s the perfect victory, cause there’s nothing better than your taste on his tongue. <333
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If are living in America and are wondering what you can do now please consider contacting The White House and demanding a recount / revote!
Check out the ALCU -> The ACLU is an organization that specifically fights back against harmful laws and bills - they fought trump off RAPIDLY during his first presidency and theyre overall good for keeping track of resources and stuff!
Ensure your vote is counted through Vote Curing!
Sign this Petition : Jane Byson (the maker of petition) ;
"We need a recount and revote for the 2024 election. An investigation needs to be looked into after Trumps sudden rise after all favor was pointed towards Kamala Harris. This isn't superstition when there was proof that she was in the lead. Something is wrong and the people of the US shouldn't suffer for it."
For those who are contemplating suicide or self harm consider contacting these Hotlines! Keep Fighting Please, and to those who have more resources PLEASE add on.
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if you're feeling powerless right now—and god knows I am—here's a reminder you can donate to the National Network of Abortion Funds, the Trans Law Center, Gaza Soup Kitchen, the Palestine Children's Relief Fund, and hundreds of other charities that will work to mitigate the damage that has been and will continue to be inflicted
life continues. we still have the capacity to do good, important work. that matters
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if u voted for trump, I mean this in the most disrespectful way possible, I do not want anything to do with you. Not only did you vote against basic human rights and equality, you decided rascism, homophobia, islamophobia, transphobia & misogynistic behavior wasn't a deal breaker. i do not want your follow or support ! thank you.
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TW: NSFW, dubcon
fem reader
Simpy boyfriends who’re just so unabashedly obsessed with your ass.
Who uses any opportunity to grab it – not slap it – but really squeeze it – feel it up like putty, knead it like dough to the point you have to swat his hands away and whine, “Knock it off…”
Who’s always trying to flip you into doing doggy – who gets all dazed and drunken-eyed when watching the plump fat jiggle on contact with his hips. Who simply can’t refrain from giving it a pinch.
Who’s so pushy and pouty about his need to bury his face between the plush cheeks even when you shake your head and say, “No… don’t be weird…”
Even when eating pussy – he’ll do it from the back – just so he can accidentally lick and kiss the other hole. Holding onto the fat of your thighs, each thumb in the crease of your cheeks – holding you back even when you try crawling forward.
“Hey – I said…” You try and protest, but he’s transfixed – pulling you back with strength he doesn’t normally use.
His chin-stubble scratches your clit as he nose-dives into your crack – making loud noises that make you ball the sheets and bury your face in the pillow – red-hot from embarrassment.
BNHA – Bakugou, Deku, Shoto, Denki, Kirishima, Shigaraki, Mirio
JJK – Gojo, Geto, Choso, Yuji, Inumaki, Yuuta, Toji, Todo
HQ – Kageyama, Hinata, Tendou
CSM – Denji, Aki, Yoshida
AOT – Eren, Armin
DS – Tomioka, Tanjiro, Zenitzu
HxH – Leorio
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TW: NSFW, dubcon/noncon, light bondage, size difference, fisting, squirting, anal
fem reader
You lay curled up on your side. The sheets beneath you were damp from your sweat. Even your bonds had gone wet where they held your arms together behind you – clammy against your back.
You're chilly, dewy from head to toe, lying naked in the cool bedroom air – or maybe it was just a fever – you didn’t know anymore. Either way, you shivered, indulging weak sniffles while sucking your pink ballgag as he fucks your ass only in heavy strokes, hitting you deep.
His toasty paw rubbed your hip, holding you steady while his other fist kept warm and wet, lodged inside your tight quivering cunt.
You squirt but offer little more than a tired moan, nomming your ball with a cry. It wasn’t the first time tonight, but it was still all so embarrassing – tears slipped from your eyes as your toes curled in the strangling onslaught of pleasure. The toll had become painful a while ago.
He found it so endearing, though – and he made sure to let you know it. “Good girl~” He praised, voice old and rugged, cooing at you while shuffling his digits in the loose fist he had propping you – feeling you suckle his scarred knuckles, followed by the surge of warm liquid rushing past the gaps.
Clenching his hand, he helped shake it all out in warm spurts around his wrist where you were enclosed – wetting the sheets with clear stains along other drying blotches from earlier.
His cock is fat like an industrial metal pipe and just as hard. He has to keep your ass in check with a firm hand holding you in place in order to ever breach the tiny hole. After several hours of nesting inside you, slowly but surely, it’s finally stretched into a sweet gaping opening fit for a quicker pounding.
He sets the new pace – still slow but so overwhelming you croaked around your gag with drool running down your chin.
“To think you were fighting me this morning…” He chuckled warmly, swinging his hefty weight against your ass, nestling himself deep and only ever pulling out halfway, clapping his big set of balls against your soft tush. “You're not satisfied unless all your holes are being spoiled, hm, sweet Princess?”
You’re scared, but you’re weak and can only nod in agreement, squeezing on both of the limbs he had stretching you out while suckling the substitute you had in your mouth.
“Mmh, my little brat… You can be so nice and sweet when you want to.” He hummed in a deep rumble, cupping your cheek and jaw with gruff fingers and lifting your sorry head to look up at him. “You just need a little reminder every now and again~ but deep inside, you know all your little holes are mine, don’t you, Baby?” He cooed firmly, stroking your cheek tenderly with a worn thumb – his soft smile more a display of authority than kindness while his fingertips dipped into the chub of your face. “Who does this little face-fucking hole belong to, hm?” He asked, still with a gentle tenderness on his face while looking down at you.
You couldn’t answer, but your eyes screamed surrender in turn of your gagged mouth – looking so humbled it made his balls clench – such big teary eyes with that terribly adorable curl between your brows – begging for his mercy.
Lolling his hips forward to nestle deep into your ass, he sighed in contentment. “And this, Baby? Hm~” He purred, sliding his paw from your hip down to grip your butt, giving the plush a firm squeeze before posing the rest of the question. “Who’s little cock-hugging hole is this, hm?”
His heavy balls nudged tight against your soft fat, with his entire length buried down to the hilt – so deep and big it made your back bend.
He rumbled with a deep chuckle at the sight, amused when feeling you sweetly squeeze on his thick shaft in answer.
It was humiliating. Lying beneath his patronizing leer, hands tied with a gagged mouth, unable to make any sounds other than soft mewling as he kept having his way with your smaller weaker body.
“What about this?” He continued, now with his fist, gently pumping your stretched pussy, making you press your thighs even tighter together. “Who owns this wittle baby-making hole, hm?”
You gave a whine, cumming – flushing with shivers as the umpteenth orgasm took you. Hot and cold in flashes and riddled with sweatdrops – dewy-cheeked while panting around your ball as dulled and misty eyes slowly blinked with teary lashes. Belly pulsing around the big bulges stuffing you up so full you felt close to bursting.
“That’s right~ they’re all mine, aren’t they, Baby? They belong to Daddy.” He wooed softly, smiling at how cute you were now, moaning out a feeble agreeing hum, pliantly nodding your head in his palm as he kept sinking in and out of that soft squelching hole that no longer fought him – sweet and housebroken – only obediently submitting to his size, lovingly hugging the shaft as though you never ever wanted him to take it out again.
BNHA – Bakugou, Deku, Kirishima, Enji, Aizawa
JJK – Nanami, Geto, Toji, Kenjaku
AOT – Erwin, Zeke
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♡ TW: noncon, gangbang, pillory, elf-reader, orc assailants, war between orcs and elves, racism between orcs and elves, captive reader, poor confinement conditions, starvation, piss drinking, cumflation, mindbreak, Stockholm syndrome
♡ FEM reader
The orc camp smells of blood and sweat and other obscenities you and your snooty elven nose fear naming.
They’ve stripped you and your fellow troops of all weaponry and armor—ugly bastards even took your boots! Leaving you in only silken undergarments, standing barefoot in the cold, wet mud.
It’s to make it harder to run away if you were to escape, you suspect. You can’t decide if it’s a clever tactic or simply a cruel one. Either way, it’s the least of your worries... You haven't been fed or given water since yesterday when you were all captured—paired with having been made to march for half the day barefoot, all tied up by your wrists, one behind the other, toed along like animals with mean tugs that had more than one of you falling face first in the mud—who knows how many of you will be able to continue walking when they decide it’s time to start moving again—much less run away if and when the opportunity presents itself—leaving you hopeless if someone doesn’t do something soon.
And it turns out that someone is you.
“Hey!” you yell. Bruised hands gripping the splintered wooden bars of your crudely built prison, glaring at the two brutes standing watch.
They acknowledge your shout, but neither of them gives any reason for you to believe they understood you were talking to them. Looking at you, then at each other.
“Yes, you two, guards!” you make clear.
They continue to look at you, yet don’t make a move.
You sigh exasperatingly—yet with how tired you are, it’s more a full-chested groan unbecoming of a fine elven knight, but under the circumstances, you couldn’t much care.
“I know ungodly monstrosities such as yourselves don’t require much to sustain your foul existence, but elves need food—at the very least water!”
A fellow elf grabs your shoulder gently, saying something under his breath, perhaps in an effort to make you quiet, but you nudge it off and continue your rant in spite of it.
“If you plan to keep us alive—as I would think, given your decision to cage us—I would advise you to meet us with the bare necessities!”
Both guards look away toward another orc—one sitting on a thick log at the mouth of one of the nicer, warmer-looking tents they’d pitched—perhaps the biggest one—sharpening his blade with a rock.
He doesn’t look up from his handiwork but speaks, “The elf is hungry?”
You scowl at the question. “Yes, you oaf—the elf is, in fact, hungry.”
He lifts his blade and looks it over—one side, then the other—before sinking it deep down into the mud. Tossing the rock away, he stands and whistles sharply, prompting the two guards to wander off as if to get something. Meanwhile, what seems to be the commander starts walking towards the prison.
Regret starts to fester as he approaches, and you’re reminded once again why the inferior race best you in battle time and time again despite your obvious intellectual difference. Three cabbage heads taller than you, his weight must be about four or five, maybe even six, times yours—built like a grizzly bear—plus his armor, which easily adds another.
He unlocks the prison, and you step back on instinct.
“Come. You will be fed,” he says, opening the gate wide.
You look behind you—all the other elves have scurried back into the far end of the cage, leaving you alone in your endeavor, which only feels foolish now that you’re sure he’s going to use those blood-dirty hands of his to squish your head clean off your shoulders as soon as you step out.
Even still, maybe by the adrenaline of imminent death or the lightheadedness of starvation, you dare ask, though a little cautiously now, “What’s on the menu?”
The orc snorts—perhaps at your pickiness—finding your resolve to uphold your standards funny, given you weren't in much of a situation to make demands. You could scoff, too—of course, you can't expect an orc to understand anything about standards.
He smirks, answering, “Something to keep warm."
Or perhaps he was laughing for an entirely different matter...
The guards return carrying something. You spot them behind him, trudging loudly in the slop before halting—mounting something close to the firepit.
By the time you understand what it is, it’s already too late. Your hair’s grabbed—as well as your entire skull—taken in one meaty hand, pulled out of the safety of the cage, and shoved harshly down into the wet dirt.
He locks up the gate again as you lie there. And you take your chance to try and run, crawling forward—fighting through the clay, dragging you down. Scrambling for balance, you’ve barely even made it up on your feet once he grabs you again—this time leading you towards the other two standing in wait along the torture device they’ve set up just for you.
You’re lifted to stand atop a crate, making you the right height, then bent over—with your wrist led into each their position as well as your throat, shoved down as the lunette comes down and successfully locks you in place—perfectly trapped in the pillory with no means of escape.
You pull and struggle, toiling against the wooden plates—too late for any such silly thing as regret you can only whimper in short, panicked screams and cries—but it’s no use. The hand comes back and grabs your hair, yanking it tightly, making your neck crane as he forces you to look up despite the fixed position.
He smiles down at the look on your face—watching your tears make clear streaks through the mud, lips wobbly as you begin to beg, “Please—I’m sorry, I’ll—”
“Oh, don’t worry, little elf,” he cuts you off with a coo, grabbing your jaw in his other hand. “You’ll be fed, just like promised.”
Something behind you rips your silk cloth away, baring you. You stiffen all over, breath hitching as useless fists whiten in their restraints. You want to kick, to thrash—but poor balance only results in you choking yourself—and so you’re left to stand there, helpless—bowed and nude before three orcs you’ve angered with your reckless entitlement.
“Mh, pretty elf holes…” one of the guards behind murmurs, cupping your asscheeks and spreading them to take a look, filtering grubby fingers through the crack and lips, rubbing over both holes.
You shake, trying to thwart their efforts. But a gritty pad roughs over your clit and finds purchase below it.
“Stop, stop! Don’t!” you wail, but it pries you apart anyway—wriggling inside your cunt in a brutish shove, it sheathes itself deeply in curiosity to see how much you could fit, eagerly pumping it inside knuckle-deep before pulling back out—then repeating the motion—promptly finger-fucking the tight opening with a digit the size of an average elf’s manhood.
You sob, heaving for breath. Shaking your head in shame as you start to slicken—if just to make it a little more bearable, but the wet noise of it only serves to make you wish they’d killed you instead.
“Shh, elf. Don't cry.” The commander orc in front of you keeps his hold on your hair, talking down to you as he admires your despair. “We’ll give you what you beg for…” He strokes your cheek harshly with the other hand, smearing your tears before moving on to his armored belt.
You whimper as it drops, revealing what must be your newest and truest worst nightmare.
“A warm meal in all your hungry holes.”
The two guards take turns behind you. You can’t see them, but they’ve made themselves more than known—having stretched out both your openings to accommodate their overgrown size.
They seem to like it when you cum—keeping their fat fingers on your clit and always fondling your tits, rubbing your nipples as they fuck your womb deeply until you wet them with your fluids. Your knees gave in a little while ago—their groping now the only thing keeping you upright, and the steady pounding the only thing keeping you awake.
Meanwhile, the commander has his fun with your face. Making you cuddle his heavy ballsack, dousing your face in the rank. With a dagger threatening your pretty eye, he'd coaxed your tongue out to play sooner than you’re proud of—now pliantly hanging from your mouth, licking every foul-tasting patch of his toad-like skin—feeling worse than a beggar eating scraps.
But you ought to thank him. Earlier, he’d tried forcing his length down your throat—making your jaw all but unlock to make room. His cockhead is the size of your fist—in the end, you could only suck on it, only able to satisfy him and his harsh scalp-ripping grip on your hair by prodding his dickhole with your tongue. He started petting you when you did that, making you feel all the more defeated.
His mercy tastes worse than the rancid white you’d been made to swallow. You’d wanted to bite, but the dagger he’d earlier stabbed into the wooden plate for safe-keeping keeps you sweet as you lick and suck the prominent veins running up his fat size—face glazed in sweat and spit, both his and yours.
“Poor elf-bitch…” he jeers while twirling a lock of your fine hair around his crooked finger. “Fed twig all your pretty life—of course, you’re hungry.”
He chuckles, voice hoarse and muted—almost soft, were it not for its gritty timbre. Keeping his cock resting heavy against your face, covering your eye while rubbing the base against your pouty lips.
“A mouthy whore like you needs real cock. Only happy when you’re pounded like meat.” He hums, “In your natural state, pleasing those bigger and stronger than you as a good pet should.”
He laughs louder, rumbles with it enough to shake the ground, then breaks away from you.
“Leave her cunt to me,” he says, folding his arms upon his chest, leaving his heavy cock to swing between muscle-ripped thighs as he leers at the scene. “Prissy elf pussy’s mine to breed.”
One of the guards soon takes up the vacant spot in front of you, putting his leaky tip to your lips in a sloppy kiss before pressing through to fight your throat for space—putting you in an air-tight spitroast—with your ass already being forced to play host for the other intruder, getting your drenched and swollen pussy slapped by a pair of weighty balls on each of his breath-robbing thrusts into your guts.
“A'right, boys,” the commander announces, “Let's stuff her ‘til she’s big and round. 'See if she's still hungry then.”
They both groan and dig in as far as your body allows, bordering on its limits, making you stretch to take them deeper before planting their seed—coming in fast ropes at first, then thicker waves, and finally smaller spurts aided by the shunting of their hips as they rut against you—feeding it to you without rush, one dose after the other, until their balls were all good and empty.
Then they sigh, breathing heavily, waiting for their seed to be settled and swallowed in your bowels before slowly sliding their spent cocks out—letting the overdose spill from your holes as you take a weakened breath and quake in the aftershocks, left hanging in the stand with a body full of orc cum and something else, something that's made your mind feel all funny and flirty.
Then, stomach heavy and warm, hanging with more weight than your breasts—tender and oddly tingly all over—you croon, like a cow, when the commander lifts your hips and eases inside your cunt only a short moment after—starting to pound you softly but deep enough to make your head hang and tongue drip with drool, moaning like an animal in its heat, all silly, like a mating-call, waiting for your womb to be fed with the same warmth.
He cups your buttcheeks with both his thumbs hooked within your ass, and still, he feels you tremble and cum without your clitty being touched—milking him for his spend, begging him with your tongue out in sweet mews. "Bleath, bleath, mathder~"
And although he can't see it from his position, it still makes him smile. “That’s right, dumb little elf-pet. Beg, and you will be fed.”
You clench up and throttle when he finally blows, and the warmth swarms your gushy insides in heavenly goo—leaving you feeling cozy from the inside out—cross-eyed and panting in utter ecstasy.
He also waits—waits until his cum takes root and his cock unswells for a good minute or two before pulling out with a throaty sigh. Then he rounds the pillory, a heavy step at a time, until his lousy and still steaming cock is met face to face with your sweaty flush-cheeked expression.
“Still hungry, elf-girl?” he asks, jostling the sloppy member against your equally drowsy face. “Or was it thirsty?”
He picks your chin up with a hand, holding it steady while watching your half-mast and glazed heart-eyes lazily blink up at him—grinning and humming at the sight.
“Tell me, elf-pet, which of it was it you were whining about?”
Drool spills from your mouth as you answer, speech slurred like a drunken degenerate, “Both~”
He clicks his tongue, “Spoiled.” But he doesn’t seem angry—no, rather pleased. “You’ve been well-fed for now—time to wash it down.”
He lifts his heavy slug and puts the numb tip to your lips, which eagerly parts wide for him to press inside softly, filling the drizzly cavern, cockhead resting neatly on the wet bed of your tongue.
You obediently await it with your eyes locked onto his—both moaning once it comes. Hot and salty-sweet, it pours onto your tongue and sloshes down your throat, spilling from your mouth and somehow splashing all over your face—making you shudder in warm bliss as you gulp it down as if it’s in another class from the aged wine back home.
“Drink, elf-slave. Drink and be grateful,” he instructs, and you obey, allowing the piss-stream to hit the back of your throat where you could glug it all down with minimal spill.
When it stopped, you sucked his tip and tongued the slit like before, cleaning it dry of the last drop, saying, “Thank you—thank you, master.”
Elves never cease to surprise him. Always so prissy—high and mighty creatures—and yet they fall the farthest from grace when pushed.
He had many different ideas on how to make an example of you to the others—cease any ideas they might have of uproar and rebellion. Leave you here for the ogres and trolls to come and have their sloppy seconds. Tie you up by your ankles and drag you behind the horses through all the muck. Let the rest of his troops have at you until you met with your unfortunate end.
But no. He thinks not.
“Let’s move—” he announces to the camp. “Time to take our bounty home.”
After all, for all your whining, you did have a point earlier—you elves are only good to them alive and well. Best get you to the nearest market and sell you.
The guards unfix you from the pillory and start hauling your collapsed form back to the cage.
“No, not her,” he corrects them, thinking of your pretty eyes and soft tongue and that pretty elf cunt that milked him dry like none other. “She rides with me.”
On bearback, he ties your hands around his neck and lets you sleep with your head on his chest, riding backward with your legs draped over his—still naked with your cum-belly leaking out over his saddle—making a mess he’ll have you lick clean later.
“Tell me if you get hungry again, little elf,” he sneers, though a little fondly. “I’ll feed you again.”
And you, despite groggy, with eyes closed, mumble back dumbly, “Thank you, master.”
♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Kirishima, Shigaraki, Enji, AFO ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Toji, Kenjaku ♡ HxH – Uvogin
♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist
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Dabi gets carsick easily…
Motion sickness goggles…
+
#bnha dabi#dabi mha#my hero academia#my hero x reader#dabi is touya#touya#todoroki touya#toya todoroki#mha#bnha#僕のヒーローアカデミア#洞爺等々力#league of villains#lov#bnha x reader#bnha spoilers
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Pervy DILF neighbor Toji that has just the right amount of cockiness to mow the lawn shirtless, knowing you're at the window. Watching.
Pervy DILF neighbor Toji with his bedroom window right opposite yours, curtains always drawn - always. Keeping an eye out for when you're purposefully too distracted to close your own curtains when you change. Hey, sue the guy - he has a great view, and you're having a great time teasing him.
Pervy DILF neighbor Toji who finds that your dryer has broken and you're drying your laundry on your balcony. Only for a pretty lil' piece of lace to land on his own - thank god for the wind. And thank god for those soundproof walls he'd installed with the way he had your panties wrapped around his fist, the other around his rock-hard cock, rasping out your name over and over.
Pervy DILF neighbor Toji who'd knock at your door to ask you for some.....sugar....then maybe let it slip that he'd totally burnt those cookies for Megumi's bakesale so wouldyoupleasemindhelping.
Pervy DILF neighbor Toji who doesn't get much baking done with you that day. Or...at all really.
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league gc: fast in my car
feat: the league freaks ! (affectionately said)
warnings / cache notes: dangerous activities, language, cw; smoking, drug use (weed)
req📌: ❌ fast in my car by paramore is so LoV coded change my mindddddd
m.list
© accidentcache do not repost, translate or alter my work without permission. all rights reserved.
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"--need to go--" kiss "--just for a minute, let me--" kiss "--go to the bathroom, I--" kiss "--god, you're a menace, I'll lift you onto this counter, and you'll stay there until I get back--" giggle, kiss.
You whispered filthy whispers against Kento's lips, playfully dragging him back to you by the collar each time he tried to release himself.
Half-huff, and half-kiss, he grumbled and spun you around as you laughed, gripping your hands behind your back and pressing you forwards against the counter.
"--unhand me, wife, or I'll tie you up--"
"--don't threaten me with a good time, Kento--"
"--truly-- truly incorrigible woman--"
You laughed again, arching back against him, and pressing his cock into the crease of your barely-covered arse until he moaned; in annoyance, or lust? You weren't sure. Perhaps both. You had the bit between your teeth.
Kento wouldn't put up with your shenanigans for much longer. He slapped your arse, jiggling it with a growl, and dashed past your swiping hands to the bathroom. You whined, then sighed to the sound of his victory chuckle, the bathroom door clicking closed behind him.
Silence-- for 30 seconds. A minute. Two minutes. Three. You called out, smirking.
"Doesn't take that long to pee, Ken--"
The bathroom door clicked open. A low, mulish grumble sounded from within.
"I...can't go."
You frowned, stifling a laugh. "What?"
"I can't go. I'm too hard. I...can't pee."
Bursting out into laughter was your downfall, and it broke down into panicked squeals as Kento stomped out of the bathroom after you, his lap tightly tented over his cock.
He tossed you onto the sofa, dragging you back by the legs when you tried to wriggle and escape, and pinning you beneath him with nuzzled growls to your throat.
"--thorn in my side-- too erect to piss, and other problems my wife causes--"
"--oh, no, whatever can we do to fix this--"
"--you're talking too much and wearing too many clothes, as usual-- come back here-- certainly one thing we can do to fix this, madam--"
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Little break from the Shinjuku battle ❄️
Twitter | Instagram
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Bakugou x fem!reader
a/n: Was thinking about how much my irl hubs spoils me and remembered I wrote about teasing Katsu about the way he spoils you. So here ya go.
“I’ve got you wrapped around my pinky Katsu.”
You stick your tongue out at him and he grunts and shrugs you off. He knows, of course he knows. If anyone else was around he’d deny it. But it doesn’t change the fact that he knows you’ve got him wrapped around your finger, tight.
Still, he’s tired from patrols today so he doesn’t have the energy to fight back. Doesn’t stop you though. You’re picking at him and you know it. Why? Because it’s fun. And it’s not like he doesn’t do it to you all the fucking time.
So it’s time for some payback.
“No like reaaaaallllllyyyy wrapped around my pinky. I could ask you for anything, no matter how stupid and you’ll say yes,” you tease.
Still he looks unbothered. He can’t fool you though, you know you’re getting to him. You watch his fingers drum on his thigh as he flips the page in a car magazine. “Yeah Sweets whatever you say,” he says not even looking in your direction.
The nerve of him. But that’s ok, you’re not going to give up yet. You walk over to him on the couch, get right in his face and block his view of the magazine. You’re grinning from ear to ear, so much so you know you look like the Grinch when he got a “wonderful awful idea”. You hold your pinky up in front of his face and his eyes go a little cross eyed as he focuses on your tiny finger.
“This finger rightttt here. It’s got you wrapped all the way around it, twice ,” you purr.
He rolls his eyes, finally giving you the reaction you want, at least that’s what you assume.
“You’re wrong,” he grumbles, sighing as he grasps your wrist quickly. You gasp, his quick reflexes never fail to surprise you. Yet still you raise an eyebrow in confusion. You? Wrong? Never.
“What? I’m not wrong! You just said—“
“I ain’t wrapped around your pinky finger,” he interrupts grabbing your hand flipping it over so the palm is toward the ground. He fiddles with your fingers for a bit, absentmindedly tilting his head to appreciate how cute your hand is in his.
And then…
With his super quick reflexes he slips something cold onto the finger next to your pinky. As soon as your mind can understand what’s happening, what he’s just done, how the ring sparkles in the light of your home sitting pretty on your finger, you gasp in astonishment.
“I’m wrapped around this one, that is, if you say yes, you little brat.”
dividers: @/cafekitsune
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