#attack one titan x reader

[h1nanii]

[crazychaoticizzy]

Just the Tip

CONTENT: 18+, MDNI, smut, unprotected sex, morning sex, dom/sub/switch reader and character depending on which one you’re reading, my knowledge on some of these characters is limited since i’m new to the fandom so they may be mischaracterized, the most basic concept but it’s something ✨

WORD COUNT: 573

MASTERLIST

“C’mon, baby… Just the tip, I swear.”

You both knew he was lying. He didn’t do just the tip. You knew that, and yet you still obliged him in the early morning.

“Just for a bit. I have a meeting today,” you mumble. You bury your face further into your pillow as he climbs on top of you. Now that you’d said it, you realized how much you didn’t want to go to that business meeting.

“I know, baby. I swear this time it’ll really be just the tip.”

You hum as he pushes your panties aside. His fingers briefly glide against your folds before he replaces them with his cock.

For a moment, he abides by his promise and only puts in the tip. He ruts into you and moans in your ear before pushing more of himself in. You’re too tired to notice entirely, although you can feel it. You don’t comment on it, though, even knowing that you should. You excuse it by convincing yourself just a little bit of indulgence wouldn’t hurt anyone.

It isn’t long until his hips meet yours. Your mouth falls open in a surprises moan when he pulls out almost completely and shoved himself back inside. Your eyes shoot open, and you look up at him with a questioning gaze.

“Oops.” The stupid smirk on his face tells you this is definitely not and oops situation, but you can’t find it in yourself to argue. Especially not after he begins a fast pace.

It looks like that meeting will have to wait. What a shame…

Jean Kirstein, Eren Yeager, Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Toji Fushiguro, Ryoumen Sukuna, Roy Mustang, Portgas D. Ace

There was no sound prettier than the sound of your boyfriend’s voice, still groggy with sleep as he holds onto your hips for dear life.

Just the tip. That’s what he’d promised you. But Jesus Christ, the way your walls stretched and squeezed around just the tip made him delirious. You’d barely given him anything and his eyes were already rolled to the back of his head.

He whines and whimpers in your ear, pleading, begging for you to let him put more of himself inside.

“Baby… Baby, please… I know you’re busy today but I need-”

With the way he moans in your ear, his hands twisted in the sheets and leaving bruises on your hips, it would just be cruel to say no, wouldn’t it?

Armin Arlert, Reiner Braun, Choso Kamo, Sanji Vinsmoke

Sometimes you find yourself hating how coy he can be. How fucking clever he is infuriates you, especially when it’s early in the morning and the only thing you want is for him to not follow what you said.

You moaned his name, long and drawn out, as you tried moving your hips back to push more of him inside you.

But he keeps his hands on your hips, preventing you from moving any further. He tuts and shakes his head, barely moving the tip in and out.

“We can’t get too carried away. We both have things to do today,” he whispered, his voice still raspy and thick with sleep.

You groan, attempting to move your hips again. When he resists, you give up. “Please,” you beg.

He chuckles. You think for a moment that he’ll give in to your pleas and screw you until you’re a mess beneath him, but he only kisses your cheek and pulls away.

It leaves you feeling empty and upset, even with the promise of a proper fucking when the two of you return to work.

Erwin Smith, Levi Ackerman, Kento Nanami

this has been in the drafts since at least February sorry about that guys hope y’all enjoyed 💜

[vernasce-blogs]

why are all of the character x reader tags going through a dry spell rn? 😭 either there’s no engagement or there’s no content :(

Edit: Imma just leave my two cents about this here, I think the main issue is the media most people consume. smut and smau tend to get the most traction, but not everyone knows how to write good booty tickling smut or smaus

[leviismybby]

Levi's face card is insane in this photo...

[plussizeficchick]

OOOHH YALL walk with me but… I can’t stop thinking about douchebag guys that publicly voice their distaste for chubby women but are secretly the biggest chubby chasers on earth!

They’re your favorite to prey on because they’re just so easy. A little bit hair twirling, lollipop sucking and they’re practically putty in your hands.

They make it so obvious that they want you too, they say the makeup you’re wearing doesn’t suit your chubby face, so you tell them to fuck you so good you’re not wearing any anymore. They like to comment on how that crop top is too short and how they can see your stomach, so you ask why they’re so focused down there when your eyes are up here. They must want you cause they’re practically salivating at your tits! 

You promise them you won’t say anything to their friends when they slide in your dms later. You tell them that you understand, they’re just shy.

But you can’t help but laugh cruelly when you have them on their backs later. You have their phone in your hand, your cunt squeezing their cock so deliciously he wants to thrust up into you but you hold firm, I set the pace, you said. “Please.” he begs, beautiful crystalline tears in his eyes and you almost feel pity for him. 

Almost.

But then you remember how cruelly he laughed at you in front of his friends earlier and it just steels your resolve. 

You lift your hips and slam down on his cock, slow and steady and when you feel the telltale sign of his orgasm, you stop. “I- I can’t, just let me,” he tries to fuck up into you but clench around him so hard he has no choice but to be quiet. “Ah, ah, ah,” you chuckle venomously, lifting your hips out of reach. He tries desperately to buck up into your tight heat, but you’re sure to hold him down. “I’m in charge, remember?” You grin wickedly and he has no choice but to concede reluctantly. 

But you’re not cruel, obviously you want to get off too. So you slam right back down on his weeping cock, grinding your hips up and down his impressive length and you’re sure to capture the delicious, crystalline tears that build up in his eyes at your unforgiving pace. “Who’s fucking you good?” You ask, reaching a hand to tweak one of his sensitive nipples. “You.” He mutters under his breath, the pressure of his impending orgasm building in his lower stomach. “Me, who?” You say, slowing down the rhythm of your thrusts. He whines out at that, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “You, mommy! Please, just fuck me!” He finally cries out, tears of pleasure pouring down his cheeks. He gasps at the feeling of your soaking cunt choking his dick, his hips fucking up into you involuntarily.

But you don’t mind, fuck you’ve been waiting for him to fill you up since he arrived at your front door and the fact that you have it on camera?

Absolutely delicious.

It doesn’t take long before your cunt is clenching around him, your pussy squelching as you both milk each other’s orgasms. His hips stutter as he spills everything he has into you, declarations of love and adoration pouring from his lips. But it’s the same song and dance you’ve been privy to for years, love you in private but never in public and if you even breathe a word of it, they try to deny. 

But you don’t mind, you’ve got plenty of evidence. And it’d be a real shame if your finger slipped and you sent it to a group chat with their friends.  

—GOJO, GETO, NAOYA, Bakugo, KAMINARI, MONOMA, Dabi, SHIGARAKI, CHISAKI, SANEMI, OBANAI, TSUKISHIMA, Atsumu, Oikawa, RAN, Baji, Kazutora, SANZU, EREN, Levi, BUGGY, Mihawk, Zoro, Your fav

[willreigns]

Letters from the Other Side

The sea washes over the sides of the steamship, taking with it the algae stuck to it. You almost hope the waves can take you with it, the nerves getting the better of you as you leant over the rail. Come see me, you read the letter over and over again, your stomach fluttering, I want to see you.

CW: Post-war Levi x fem!reader, civilian!reader

A/N: Some post-war Levi goodness after the angst I’ve posted this past month. ~2.5k words of fluff and romance. If this does well, I’ll probably write the super romantic smut next.

Credit to @cafekitsune for the dividers!

Three years after the Rumbling and things were starting to return to a sense of normalcy in the Stohess district. At least as normal as things can get when the twisted mentality of the Yeagerists and their seizing control of the military dominated the news. Your mother and father tell you not to worry, but you’ve been worried ever since the walls disappeared and the Survey Corps regiment disbanded.

Or rather, you have only really been worried over a single person, the man with the raven locks and the dull gray eyes, dull eyes that glittered when you spoke to him. You were still a woman, and a woman has intuition for those sorts of things like attraction, and Captain Levi couldn’t help how flustered he got whenever he saw you. Your father was the owner of a blacksmith company, and you often bumped into Levi along with Commander Smith several times a month.

Humanity’s strongest, you’d think in awe, where you had imagined a big brute, now you saw the man for what he was.

Why’d he come along was always unknown to you, but as your father and the commander spoke privately in another room, you offered small conversation and tea while he waited. Where small talk began, somehow a deep appreciation for the other bloomed, and the visits began to feel like the visits of the suitors that bombarded your home on occasion. He’d gift you single flowers, it’s all I can afford, he’d say meagerly. You’d thank him with a kiss on the cheek each and every time. And each and every time a ferocious tinge of red would adorn his face.

The timing never seemed to be right with either of you, it always seemed like when one was ready to take the leap, the other had other obligations waiting. Wait for me, were his selfish last words to you and you nodded your head as you gave him a final good-bye.

It had already been three years. You were already on the cusp of giving up.

It had been a nice breezy morning when you received his first letter. The unfamiliar stamps had caught both you and your parents off-guard, but nonetheless they gave you the privacy to open it. There, in the small garden of your home, tears welled up in your eyes as you skimmed through it.

It was a letter from Captain Levi.

Or rather Levi, just Levi, as the letter so said. I have told them to stop calling me captain, but these brats never learn. You giggled inwardly at his words, tears welling up in your eyes. You read it one more time, much slower this time, familiarizing yourself with his handwriting, the slant in his letters, his signature, everything. You familiarized yourself with the names Gabi and Falco, children you did not know but instantly loved with the way they cared for Levi.

At the very bottom, a hopeful wish that you will respond, signed next to his name.

Of course you will.

Your father stood confused as you gathered parchment and a pen to write, finding it odd that his moody daughter was suddenly so lively. Perhaps it’s the engagement, he thought, and let you be.

Your ring twinkled under the summer sun, and yet nothing has caused more glee than the very letter you were responding to. You wrote about the situation in Paradis, you wrote about the kindness of the queen, and you wrote about how business was booming for your father, despite the war having been over. The thought saddened you, but you quickly sign the letter and add a note that you excitedly await his next letter.

It’s not that you fail to mention your engagement, rather some deep part of you didn’t want to mention it. Your betrothed was a good man, hand picked by your father, you had accepted to keep his worries at bay that you wouldn’t end up husbandless and with no children.

How quickly Levi’s letters can have you questioning your familiar duties.

We restored some of the land ruined by the war, Levi writes, many foreigners are starting to settle here again.

You can’t help the sense of admiration that fills you up. It filled you up when he’d visit with the commander, and it still filled you up now. A military man, you wonder if he’s still as strong as when you met him. Humanity’s strongest, you wondered if he still thought about you and the flowers he’d gift you.

I’d like to visit it one day, you write, perhaps a change of scenery would be nice. All this yeagerist talk has me going mad.

I’d like to visit you one day, you will yourself to write, but you don’t. You had been lovestruck years ago, perhaps the captain no longer harbored the same feelings. Perhaps the captain has found someone new, perhaps the captain has married.

Sadness consumes you. After all, you were just friends back then, right?

You trash your letter and write a plainer one instead. It hadn’t even reached half a page when you sealed it, wrote his address on the front of it and set it aside for the postman to pickup tomorrow.

“Honey,” you can hear your mother call, “James is here to see you.” You force your best smile to greet your husband-to-be.

It’s weeks before the next letter arrives. The pretty orange and red tree leaves were beginning to fall, a cozy chill running through the district. Your wedding preparations were already underway when the postman calls out to you, a single letter in his hands, the stamps it bore already familiar to you.

More talk of restoration, recovery, Gabi and Falco’s shenanigans, when finally you reach the last bit of the letter. I don’t mean to bother you, Levi writes, your last letter felt abrasive. I understand if things have changed. Everything has changed.

You wonder what goes through Levi’s mind when he writes to you.

No, things have not changed. Things still felt the same, at least they did to you. Still, you couldn’t ignore your engagement anymore as you saw your mother debate through wedding ribbons in the distance and you finally will yourself to write and tell him the news.

I’m engaged, it feels awful to write it, my engagement is a long one, though, and so I’m sorry if the letter was short. I must’ve been busy.

You write of other things, of the rising tension amongst good folks like your family who didn’t want to fuel another war, and the yeagerists. You write of how the talks of peace by the ambassadors (who you found out were actually part of the same regiment as him) were falling on deaf ears.

I’d like to see you, you finally write, I’d like to see what the other side looks like.

You add the last bit in a final moment of hesitation, sign your name and set it aside, a deep breath falling from your lips.

“You’re changing the wedding date again, and to a later date might I add,” your father bellows out to you.

“Father, please,” you reply, exasperated, trying to escape the dining room and into your own, a new letter in hand, “I will get married in time, what’s the rush?”

“The rush is that you’re not young anymore, I beg you to reconsider.”

You shut the door behind you, shaky fingers coming to pry the letter open. You force yourself to read slowly, absorbing every single inked word coming from Levi’s fingertips.

You skip his polished words of annoying governmental policies being implemented on his side and go straight to the heart of the letter, his real response to you.

Congratulations on your engagement, he begins, I’m surprised you haven’t even married yet.

That? That is what he has to say? You scoff, a slight irritation blooming.

I don’t look like before—I’ve lost an eye and my right hand is destroyed, his letter continues, I look awful.

I’m not humanity’s strongest anymore.

You don’t know why these words strike you deeply. Years and a great distance separate you from what Levi is or was for that matter, yet it isn’t Levi’s exterior that ever affected you in the first place. It was the small talks and the small gifts, it was his tinged cheeks and his intrepid way of speaking around your people who have only seen the refined things in life.

You could never look awful to me, you write in your response, a wave of heat flaring up on your cheeks, you’re just trying to get me not to go.

Levi’s letters continue well into the deeper part of winter, the leaves have long since fallen, snow beginning to gather amongst the branches. The winters where he lived were harsh, and he writes of how they were causing the ache in his knee to worsen. You spend some of your money to send him some ointment you purchased from a local medic.

He writes to you of how the snow reminds him of when the Survey Corps would serve hot chocolate on the off chance. You send him chocolate you bargain off a local vendor.

The signs of Levi’s homesickness don’t escape you, even if he doesn’t admit it.

I could send you Stohess’s entire stock of goods if I can, you respond to his letters of thanks.

What would I do with all that, he responds to yours, breaking you into a fit of silent laughter.

I’ve missed your awful humor, you write casually. You wonder if you should trash this letter and begin a new one, but you don’t. I’ve missed you, you finish writing.

The budding roses in your garden remind you of your predicament.

“As much as I respect you,” James begins, “I won’t accept any other change to the wedding. If you won’t marry me then I’ll find someone who will.”

You comprehend his irritation, even if you don’t fully understand it.

He leaves you on your garden bench, exiting through the gate, just in time for the postman to arrive. Your feelings don’t subside, in fact they linger as you read Levi’s next letter.

Upon opening it, nervousness hits you as you see just how short the letter is. Policy change, annoying policy change.

The ambassadors have told me that postage to Paradis will be barred soon. Your eyes widen. Despite the nice spring breeze, your body suddenly feels so cold.

If I don’t hear from you again, I wanted to wish you a happy marriage. Your eyes well with tears, but it’s his next words that move you.

Unless you change your mind. Come see me. I want to see you. Just as you’re about to trash the envelope, a small flower catches your eye. It was dried up and rather lonely, but you hold it close to you as small tears slip down your cheeks.

The next morning, you try to give the postman your next letter but he just shakes his head in response.

“Apologies ma’am, the military has ordered a full stop for all international mail.” You thank him anyway, despite how distraught you feel.

Your wedding is within two weeks. The white dress in the corner of your room haunts you. Although lace with spring flowers were added to match the season, it only made it look like the kind of dress you wore on your deathbed.

There was no more rescheduling your wedding date, there were no more letters to look forward to, you could only look over the last letter, his final request.

You longed for Levi. Did he long for you?

Come see me, I want to see you.

Despite the spring air, a heat that resembled summer humidity burned through you.

“It’s a one way trip if you decide to head to the other side,” the hefty man tells you, “military has barred all incoming and outgoing mail, I wouldn’t be surprised if they bar incoming ships soon.”

This was it, the point of no return. You had written your last letter addressed to your parents—an apology for doing what you are doing. No, your heart hasn’t seized its rampant beating since Levi’s last letter. You need to see him.

You board without much of a glance back.

For days, sea sickness threaten to put a damper on your good (albeit nervous) mood, your only fuel the letters stored in your small suitcase, rereading them every night as the darkness of the ocean tormented you.

Finally, the crewmen announce that you will be arriving in the morning. The sun was setting off in the horizon—you clutched his last letter as you take a brief moment to absorb this feeling of resilience that surged through you. You’d get to see Levi soon, you’ve waited enough. Here, near the rails of the ship, you long for him, nerves filling your stomach.

The sea washes over the sides of the steamship, taking with it the algae stuck to it. You almost hope the waves can take you with it, the nerves getting the better of you as leant over the rail. Come see me, you read the letter over and over again, your stomach fluttering. I want to see you.

Past the plethora of persons disembarking, past the many political volunteers ushering about far-off dreams of peace that were unachievable, you navigate through unknown territory in an effort to find him. Fingers pointed, people spoke foreign directions as they glanced at the address on your envelope. It has all brought you here.

Face to face with a young girl, too young to be married.

“Ah—sorry,” you begin, “I was told Levi Ackerman lived here.”

“Yeah he does,” she begins suspiciously, “I’ll get him.” The door closes again and already you feel out of your element. Perhaps this was a mistake, you wish the ground can swallow you whole. Peering eyes look at you through a nearby window, ones that belonged to the young girl who just spoke to you, and another who you haven’t met.

“That’s her? No way,” you can hear them say. Suddenly the door opens, and dull gray eyes that bore a hint of annoyance soften and make way for a familiar glitter that reminded you of simpler times.

“Levi.”

He whispers your name, suddenly hiding his maimed hand, trying to get you to see his good side, the side with his working eye. But you don’t see that. You see the man who gifted you flowers, you see the man whose cheeks you once kissed.

You will yourself to move and you do, grabbing the hand behind him and crashing into him in an embrace. Levi’s face is red, and he glances at the window to see Gabi and Falco gawking at them. He waves them off annoyingly and they give him a thumbs-up as they pull away.

Hands come to wrap around you, lips kissing your forehead.

“You came,” he whispers into your hair.

“Of course.”

[ashthemadwriter]

Kinktober Masterlist

October 1st— Cunnilingus | Sanji Vinsmoke

Your friend can't deny you when you're this needy for him, but you have to keep it down.

October 3rd— Breeding | Gojo Satoru

Seeing you with a baby in your hands, your boyfriend can't get the idea out of his head.

October 6th— Incest | Chuuya Nakahara

Your parents are abroad for a week and Chuuya can't say no to her spoiled stepsister.

October 9th— Workplace sex | Katsuki Bakugo

A short visit to your boyfriend's workplace turns into something more.

October 12th— Cuddlefuck | Osamu Dazai

You're cuddling with your husband and everything's peaceful until you feel his boner against your crotch.

October 15th— Somnophilia | Atsumu Miya

You wouldn't mind if you wake up with your boyfriend's cum between your legs, would you?

October 18th— Hate sex | Tooru Oikawa

As much as he hates your guts, he can't deny how sexy you are, especially in an empty room.

October 21st— Degradation | Toji Fushiguro

How can you be so horny in the middle of a mission? What a slut you are!

October 24th— Cockwarming | Sae Itoshi

You tell Sae about your day while sitting on his cock.

October 27th— Dry humping | Megumi Fushiguro

Just the tip my ass! Megumi has to find another way to pleasure himself.

October 30th— Aphrodisiac | Eren Yaeger

You catch Eren's eye and he comes up with a way to get into your pants.

[callisto-corner]

Beauty of the Blondes

[theragethatisdesire]

pretty girl - jean kirschtein x afab!reader - 18+!!!

there's def more eren coming but while that's in the works please enjoy the result of the jean brainrot i experienced the other day. fair warning- it's going to get pretty rough, but that's what you asked him for ;)

pairing: reader x jean kirschtein

wc: 4.6k

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.

CWs: smut, consensual hook-up, established relationship (jean's ur gorgeous bf lucky u), unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), face fucking, pretty rough sex, vaginal fingering, biting, dirty talk, penetrative vaginal sex, swearing, daddy kink, use of names (pretty girl, crybaby, good girl), very dom jean, multiple orgasm, dacryphilia/crying, creampie

this one was super fun and is very tasty u guys enjoy <3

-

-> be there in 5 babe :)

You are not looking forward to this, to say the least. You pace madly around your little apartment in a massive t-shirt and sweatpants covering the skimpiest lingerie set you own. It’s got all the bells and whistles: a matching garter belt, lace in all the right places, stockings that come up to where your plush thighs are the fattest. You should be looking forward to this, you tell yourself, candles lit and ambient lighting ready to go. You have a gorgeous boyfriend who’s going to “be here in five”, and you should be brimming with excitement. But…you’re just not.

Jean’s been in your life for a few months now. What had started as a run-in at the coffee shop around the corner had turned into candlelit dinners, movie marathons, and exclusive titles, and you adore him. His sandy brown hair, the tattoo on his strong bicep, pretty hazel eyes– Jean’s sexy, loving, sarcastic, attentive, literally everything you could ask for in a boyfriend. Except when it comes to your sex life, that is.

The sex isn’t bad per se, you just can’t shake the feeling that he’s holding something back from you. He’s almost too perfect; he’s gentle with you, always taking care to ask permission before touching you, chaste kisses as he slides in, hand-holding in missionary. He cums every time, immune to the whiskey-dick you’d expect from his bourbon drinking habit, so you know he’s enjoying himself, but he doesn’t always seem all there. The fire just isn’t in him, and you know he has that side to him. You’ve seen those hazel eyes you love so much blaze, in a heated argument, at the gym. Why it doesn’t happen in your intimate moments is beyond you, it’s like he’s afraid to break you, like he’s not doing everything–

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Shit, knocking on your front door is what he’s doing.

You take one last look in the mirror: hair’s casual, but still sexy, makeup to a minimum, all straps and lace covered up by your inconspicuous pajamas. Time to potentially ruin your relationship.

“Hey beautiful,” Jean greets you with an innocent smile, “you look cozy.”

“Feel cozy,” you accept his kiss, chewing on your lip as he comes in. Your heart’s pounding in your ears; poor thing has no idea what’s to come. Maybe it’ll go well, you think; false hope might be the only thing that gets you to pull through with your plan.

“Have any movie ideas for tonight? I was thinking Hereditary, but only if you’re not too chicken…” Jean raises his eyebrows, a taunting smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. Ha! If only he knew all of the things you aren’t “too chicken” for.

You smile weakly, stomach churning. “Maybe. Can we just…can we just talk for a sec?”

Jean’s playful demeanor drops instantly, replaced by a faint frown. “What about?”

You amble over to the couch, playing with the strings of your sweatpants anxiously. How the fuck are you even supposed to bring this up? Your mind’s racing so quickly it draws a blank, and before you can stop yourself, you blurt: “Sex.”

“Sex?” Jean’s cheeks tinge pink. He hasn’t shaved in probably a week, a shadow covering his sharp jawline. God, he’s gorgeous, you can’t mess this up, you really can’t.

“Yeah,” you confirm, “sex. Our sex, to be clear.”

“I figured as much,” Jean’s sat himself beside you now, one eyebrow raised suspiciously. He’s not upset, not yet, but you’ve definitely caught him off guard.

“I– I feel like we’re on different pages,” you stammer– fuck you are so bad at this, “I just feel like sometimes you’re so…gentle, and you don’t necessarily, like, have to be?”

Jean’s frowning full on now, a precious little wrinkle appearing in the center of his forehead. You’ve hurt him, and your heart sinks. Probably should have started with the pros. “Like…what do you mean, by ‘don’t have to be gentle’?”

“Our sex life is great,” you try to smile enthusiastically, as if you don’t actually want to blow your brains out right now, “please don’t think I’m saying you’re bad in bed or anything. I just, like– okay, for example, have you ever tried anything rough?”

His mouth is a flat line. “Like what?”

“Like, handcuffs, or roleplay, any of that stuff.”

“What have you tried?” His voice is even, collected, but there’s something simmering in him that you can’t put your finger on. It’s not anger, but it tastes similar, running in the same vein but not quite there. It’s your turn to feel your face warm.

“I mean, I’ve tried handcuffs before. Some light slapping, spanking.” You’re twiddling your thumbs, confessing into your lap. You can feel his eyes on you.

“That it?”

“I guess.”

“Did you…enjoy that kind of stuff?” He’s taking the bait. You finally meet his gaze and it ignites a little fire in your stomach; he’s never looked at you this intensely, brows pinched together like you’re a puzzle he’s trying to figure out. All of these little mannerisms are tells, you’re intuitive enough to know that, but exactly what he’s trying to convey you just can’t figure out.

“Yeah.”

“How rough are we talking, here?” Jean sounds deeper than normal, the slightest bit of strain to his words. That’s definitely new; Jean’s the most unshakeable person you’ve ever met.

“If I’m making you uncomfortable, I–”

“You’re not making me uncomfortable,” an easy chuckle floats out of his mouth, “just trying to feel you out is all.”

Your brows furrow. “Feel me out?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs, “I’m surprised, that’s all.”

“Surprised?” Your nose wrinkles. “Did I ever give off the impression that I was, like, super vanilla or something?”

“No,” he laughs again, a bit of the tension melting from the room, “no, not that. We’re just still pretty new, that’s all. Wasn’t going to whip out everything in my toolbox ‘til I knew you were okay with it.”

That piques your interest; you think you’d very much like to see what’s in this toolbox of his. “So you do like some of this stuff?”

Jean rolls that thought over in his mind for a beat before responding, a suspicious smirk that you can’t read tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, I guess you could say I like some of this stuff.”

“We’re back to my original question then: what do you like?”

“I’m more worried about what you like,” Jean says, “especially since you won’t come right out and say it. Gonna make me guess?”

That’s your Jean, blunt as ever. The fire in your stomach sparks and spits at the conversation, teasing and tempting. There’s something playful to his words; you can’t shake this feeling that you’re missing something, that he’s toying with you, but you like it. You let him keep pushing, see where he’s leading you. “Sure, guess.”

“Do you like…” Jean trails off, examining you with his chin nestled between his thumb and index finger, “to be dominant?”

“No.”

“Submissive, then.”

“Yeah.” He likes that, you can tell by the way his eyes glint at you. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip.

“Like to be tied up?”

“Already told you about the handcuffs.”

“I bet you have a praise kink.”

That has you flustered. There’s a sinking sensation in your stomach that you’ve underestimated him, waded out too deep into the water, but fuck it, you’re already here. “How’d you know?”

Jean smiles, pleased. “I just do. Overstimulation?”

“Sure.”

“Orgasm denial? Degradation?”

“If I deserve it.” It’s a bold answer, but it makes Jean suck in a sharp “fuck” between his teeth. Oh yes, you’ve definitely underestimated him.

“You like to be punished, don’t you?” His hand has traveled up to cup your jaw, thumb playing absentmindedly with your bottom lip. There’s an anticipatory warmth gathering between your legs, and the air between you both is practically crackling, charged by the tension thrumming through both of your bodies.

“Yes,” it comes out in a breath, almost pathetic, but you can’t help yourself. He looks so good, always does, and now he’s grazing his eyes over you like he wants to take a bite.

“You know how safewords work?” You nod a bit too eagerly. “Ours is going to be red, okay?”

“Okay,” you’re agreeing, but you aren’t entirely sure what to, caught up in the soft rubbing of his thumb over your mouth.

“If your mouth is,” a deep breath shakes through his frame, “occupied, give me a sharp pinch with your nails.”

“I can do that,” the tension between you is palpable now, the room’s so hot that you’re surprised your wallpaper isn’t peeling off.

“Go to your room,” Jean releases you, eyes dark and hungry, “take your clothes off and wait for me on the bed. I’ll be in soon.”

You follow his instructions without thinking twice, as if a switch has flipped in your brain. Maybe it was his tone, an authoritative way of speaking that threatens consequence, or maybe you’re just so ready to see what this perfect boyfriend of yours has been hiding all this time. As you’re getting undressed, you realize he still doesn't know about your lingerie. You bite back a smile, kneeling on the bed. This is going to be so good.

A minute or so ticks by slowly, and just when your legs are starting to ache, Jean’s entering your room. His face darkens in a way you’ve never seen before when he sees your little get up; lightning shoots through your core.

“Put on a pretty outfit just for me?”

“Mhm,” you hum.

“That’s good,” he says in that slow drawl of his, “good girl.”

He’s only testing the waters, but you can feel your body viscerally react to the little pet name, shifting on your knees to mask your desperate attempt for friction, dampness spreading in your panties. Jean sees right through your act, smirking.

Jean joins you in undressing, slipping his shirt over his head. You take your time admiring his torso; miles of long, lean muscle, little ripples by his ribs trailing into a ridiculous six-pack. Jean’s a confessed gym rat, and it shows in every little line along his body. You have to blink and look away before you start salivating.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Jean scolds, tilting your head up towards him, “eyes on me, got it?”

“Got it,” you answer. Jean frowns.

“That’s not very nice,” he says, “try again.”

You go out on a limb. “Yes, sir.”

Jean’s eyes glint again in that mean, pretty way you saw earlier. You did good, you did good for him. “Much better. Get on the floor.”

You slide off of your mattress, practically buzzing with anticipation, settling on your knees in front of him. A low groan rumbles in Jean’s chest.

“Look so good like that, my pretty girl.”

Oh, you really like that, nuzzling against his hand on your head. Jean smiles down at you, inching his pants down until that little thatch of brown hair starts revealing itself. “Open up for me, nice and wide.”

Your jaw’s dropped, mouth open and tongue out, expectant. Jean smiles wider, sharp and dangerous, pulling his cock out for you. He taps the head against your tongue a few times, even slaps you with it, facade faltering for a fraction of a second to gauge your reaction. You’re good for him, sitting still and patient with your mouth still open, a drop of drool starting to slide off the end of your tongue. Jean makes a sound that’s somewhere between a groan and a chuckle.

“Oh, you’re an obedient little thing, aren’t you?” Your panties grow impossibly wetter, you wiggle on your thighs under him, earning yourself another slap of his cock on your tongue, heavy and drooling. “Gonna fuck this pretty face, okay?”

You close your mouth around his head, sucking lightly to show your approval. He’s not even touched you, not so much as a kiss, and your brain’s foggy, running like a hamster on a wheel chasing the circular thought of be good, be good, be good. Jean grabs your hair none-too-gently, tugging it at the roots, and starts canting his hips towards your mouth, muttering under his breath about how good you are, how good your mouth feels on him.

You lower your jaw ever so slightly, and before long, Jean’s picking up speed, knocking your gag reflex here and there and making you cough around him. He doesn’t seem overly concerned; in fact, he grins cruelly down at you when he hits an extra-sensitive spot, making you hunch and gag on him.

“Look at my pretty girl, so happy getting her mouth fucked,” he hisses when you moan around him, feeling the vibrations up his cock. He’s moving faster now, rougher than he’s ever been. You’re gagging with some regularity, tears welling up in your eyes and threatening to spill down your cheeks. You expect him to let up, give you some air, but it only spurs him on, and before you know it, there are thick streams of tears running down your face. Your jaw aches, your knees burn, but you stay, letting him use you how he pleases.

“Fucking crying on me,” Jean growls, “my cock too much for you?”

You try to answer with a shake of your head, but he’s relentless, fingers tightening in your hair and cock shoving to the back of your throat, making you retch.

“No, you love it, don’t you? My little crybaby.”

You’re so wet you can feel it gathering on the insides of your thighs, entirely soaked through your panties. You move your hips subtly, this way and that, desperate for friction. Jean notices, pulling out of your mouth but staying connected by a string of your spit.

“You squirming, pretty girl? Need some attention?”

“Yes, sir,” you rasp, nodding eagerly. Jean helps you up onto the bed, lays you back against his chest facing the mirror on top of your wardrobe. It’s a terribly lewd sight; you spread out in front of him, face swollen and teary, the telltale glisten of wetness glittering on your thighs.

Jean slides a hand down your body, rubbing you over your panties and nibbling at your ear. “You’re gonna watch me make you cum, and if I see you look away, I’m fucking you ‘til I cum, and you’re not getting a damn thing. Got it?”

“Yes, sir,” your voice wobbles pathetically. Jean seems to like it; his cock twitches in interest against your back. He pushes your panties to the side, flicking his fingers faster over your clit. Embarrassingly enough, you’re already nearing your halfway point from the face-fucking, moaning and grinding up into his palm.

“Need something?”

“Mhm,” you grit out, jaw clenched. Jean slaps your pussy; not too hard, but firm enough to make you jolt, bring you a moment of clarity.

“Manners,” he reminds you sharply.

“I’m sorry, I– can I please have a finger?”

Jean’s placated, slides one finger into you and laughs hot against your neck at the obscene sound that tears from your throat. “What do we say when we get what we ask for?”

“Thank you– fuck, thank you,” your words are coming out in puffs of breathe. Jean has long, skilled fingers, a fact you’re already familiar with, but the position he’s put you in has you dripping onto the sheets: forcing you to watch as he pumps in and out of you, grinding into your clit with the heel of his hand. You’ll be lucky if you last another minute.

“Feels good, doesn’t it? My pretty girl likes being full, right?” Jean murmurs, hot against the shell of your ear. “Tell me.”

“Yes, sir, I– I like it, I need– fuck!”

“What do you need?” Jean coos, entertained, as if he’s not unraveling you with just the one.

“I want one m-more finger, please,” you stutter, relieved you’re able to get the words out at all.

“Learning so fast,” Jean kisses your shoulder, granting your wish. His fingers are thick, the slight stretch making you throw your head back against his shoulder, hips rolling into his hand of their own accord. “Still looking?”

You force your head back to its upright position, mindful of the threat in his tone. His fingers work faster at your obedience, curling insistently against the gummy spot inside your walls that makes you see stars, makes you a little out of your mind with need. It’s that out-of-mind dizziness in your head that causes your little slip-up:

“Fuck, please, more- more, Daddy.”

Jean’s fingers still; it’s not until you’re halfway into a whine of disappointment that you realize what you’ve said. Your face burns; you meet his eyes in the mirror, yours shot wide and embarrassed. You trip over your words, trying to explain yourself. That definitely hadn’t been mentioned in your earlier conversation.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to say that, I just–”

“Just what? Already so fucked out you can’t think straight?” Jean curls his fingers pointedly against your walls, punching a groan from your chest.

“Yeah,” you sigh, head growing cloudy again.

“Say it again.” That definitely isn’t what you expect to hear him mutter against your neck. Jean works a third finger into your cunt with some difficulty, stretching you to your limits. “Fucking say it, or you’re not cumming.”

“Oh my God, D-Daddy,” your cries are pathetic, punctuated by whimpers. The bubble in your stomach is about to pop, the tension growing unbearable. You’re almost there, grinding into his hand pitifully and babbling, when Jean takes one of his hands to grab your throat roughly. He holds you captive, staring at your own stretched cunt on display for you in the mirror.

“Good, good girl,” he says, “now watch Daddy make you cum.”

The band inside you snaps viciously; your back arches away from him, and you squirt, gushing all over your bed sheets, inhuman sounds tearing from your throat where you struggle under his hand. Jean’s working you through the whole thing, still steadily pumping his fingers and whispering dirty little nothings into your ear. It finally begins to quiet, overstimulation washing over you. You push urgently at his wrist, mumbling something or other about “too much, too much”.

Jean mercifully obliges, pulling his hand from you with a shameful sucking sound, giving your pussy another light slap.

“Such a good girl for me, yeah? How you feelin’?”

“Good, so good,” you slur, “I’ve never– never…”

“Never squirted?” Jean’s eyebrows shoot up at your answering nod before a smug expression settles over his face. “Such a fun little toy, aren’t you? Just wait, you’ll get used to it soon enough.”

Your cunt clenches around nothing; so he can make you do that? Again? Jean’s slid out from behind you and is repositioning your limp body, dragging you down the bed by your ankles to line you up with his cock. He bends your knees up, pressing them close to your head. Jesus, he’s going to kill you at this rate.

“Want me to fuck you?”

“Please,” you hate the begging lilt to your voice, but you’re beyond fighting it. You gave up the reins a long time ago when you knelt for him, let him call you a good girl, let him fuck your throat.

“I’ve got you, pretty girl, Daddy’s gotcha,” Jean starts bullying his way into your pussy, still tight and pulsing from your orgasm. “Shit, got a tight little cunt, don’t you? Feels so good– fuck.”

You’re simpering under him, barely able to process the stretch of his cock in you. He’s well-endowed and you’re overwhelmed, a dizzying combination for your fucked-out brain to handle. Just when you think he might be in your throat he’s so deep in you, his hips press to the back of your thighs, both of you letting out a long groan at the feeling.

“So pretty,” Jean muses, not moving yet, just placing a thumb on your clit and absentmindedly playing with it, “such a beautiful pussy.”

You whine, frustrated. He glares at you, landing a harsh smack to your inner thigh.

“I’m not going to warn you again.”

“Please fuck me, oh God, please,” you pant, past the point of humility. Jean licks his lips, presses his palms deep into the backs of your knees, practically folding you in half. He gives you what you ask for.

You’re jolted back and forth on the mattress, mouth hung open in a silent scream as he splits you open on him, forces every inch deep into you. His tip’s kissing your cervix, pain blooming in your abdomen, but you don’t even care, so lost in the rhythm of his hips.

“Jean, I– oh my God,” you try to tell him how good he feels, but all you get is a firm hand around your throat.

“Who’s fucking this pretty cunt up, hm? Fucking you good and deep? Who is it?”

“Daddy,” you choke out, breathless, “Daddy’s.”

“There you go,” Jean’s focused on where you’re connected, eyes never leaving the frothy white ring forming around the base of his cock. You’re crying again, vaguely aware of the streams of tears running down your temples, into your hairline, but fuck, he just feels so good your brain can’t even process it. Jean takes notice, wipes one of your tears and licks it off of his thumb. “Cute fucking crybaby, all happy and cockdrunk, aren’t you?”

You whimper some semblance of an agreement, feeling the band of tension in you already getting stretched to a breaking point. He’s at an angle that allows him to hammer into the most delicious spot inside of you, rubbing against it with each thrust.

“Gonna cum soon, I– I’m gonna cum soon,” you manage, locking his gaze.

“Let me feel it, go on, do it for me,” Jean pants, squeezing your neck tighter. The lack of air goes to your head; the room spins until all you can focus on is him pounding into you. You cum violently, throbbing around his cock, thrashing against his strong arms. Jean fucks you through it, never losing his pace. “Good fucking girl, just like that.”

You’re practically wheezing as your senses return to you, clawing at Jean’s arm on your throat. He lets up on your neck, smiling down at you. “Feel good?”

“Mhm,” you hum, blissed out and half-asleep until Jean flips you, forcing you to prop up on your hands and knees. “Wait, Jean–”

“Wait?” Jean scoffs, sliding back into you. You let out a little cry, and he smacks your ass sharply. “This is what you asked for, right? Said I was being too nice to you.”

“I didn’t– oh my god…” your eyes roll back into your head, a well-placed thrust cutting your words off. “It’s so…it’s so much, Jean.”

Jean lands three more sharp slaps to your ass, already thrusting into you at a brutal pace. “What was that?”

“T-too much, Daddy,” you collapse, face shoved into the bed to mask the pitiful cries leaving your mouth. It is too much; if you tuck your chin to your chest, you can see a little bulge in your tummy where he’s fucking into you, another orgasm already building in the pit of your stomach. You feel like you might pass out if he makes you cum again, but he’s ruthless.

“Too much?” Jean coos, fisting your hair to turn your face. He’s glaring down at you. “You were practically begging me for it, and my pretty girl gets what she wants, right? Said you wanted it rough, so you’re going to fucking take it.”

You nod miserably, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. Jean hisses when you clamp down around him. “Squeezing me so goddamn tight, this pussy.”

You feel a hand start thrumming insistently against your clit and nearly shriek; your pussy’s so swollen, so sensitive already. You claw at the bedsheets, feeling something warm and wet swelling inside of you.

“Daddy, I– fuck, it’s, it’s–”

“Gonna make you squirt again,” it’s a promise from behind your ear, “you’re gonna squirt on my cock and Daddy’ll cum for you, okay?”

“I can’t, I–” you’re wailing, words cut off by your own moans. Jean loves it, you can feel his thrusts growing more urgent against your hips, so deep in you you could choke.

“You can,” he corrects you, hand moving faster, “want Daddy to cum in you?”

“Yes, please, p-please,” You cry, letting him use you as he wishes. 

“I’ll give it to you, gotta cum first, you can do that, can’t you? Taking me so well, pretty girl, just need you to cum one more time for me.”

“Uh-huh,” the edges of your vision are starting to close in. He’s ruthless, hips slamming into yours hard enough to bruise, cock stretching you out so nicely, you can’t hold it, but you know, somewhere deep in this primal part of your brain, you need to be good, need to ask him. “Need to cum, Daddy, please– please let me, I–”

“Go ahead,” Jean shushes you, hips moving impossibly faster, “be a good girl, let me feel it.”

That tips you over the edge and Jean makes good on his promise; your cum is dripping out of you, spraying onto his thighs and ruining your sheets. You’re thrashing your head back and forth and sobbing through your orgasm, pinned and powerless under him. Jean swears at the vice-like grip you have on him; it doesn’t take him long to follow suit, pressing himself as deep as he can go, cumming in you. He bends over you as he does, grabbing your jaw and forcing you to him, kissing you hard in a mess of tongue and teeth. You feel it warming your stomach, moaning appreciatively until you both collapse in a sweaty mess of limbs, gasping for breath and clutching onto one another.

Jean allows himself a few moments to catch his breath, and then he’s pulling out of you, leaving you empty and whimpering. He shushes you, holding you close to his chest and letting you work through the intense session in his arms. You’ve never been so fucked out, nuzzling into his chest and simply letting him hold you, letting the aftershocks wrack through your sore body. After a few minutes you’re coming to; the haze begins to lift, and you peek up at him, unsure of where to start after…that.

“You okay?”

You turn the words over in your mouth before you can get them out, still feeling a bit like you’re floating. “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. That was…wow.”

Jean, the man that just held you down and forced what were probably life-threatening orgasms out of you, blushes. “Yeah, it was really something.”

“Yeah, it was,” you agree, giggling despite yourself. Your mind is still a little cloudy, a little soft after everything. “But it was good. So good.”

“Yeah?” Jean grins, hoisting you up into his lap so you can both sit up, still cradling you to his chest. “Not too gentle, was I?”

Your face grows hot, you want to hide it behind your hands. “No, not too gentle.”

“You were right earlier,” he admits, “I was definitely holding out on you just because the way I like to…I mean, I don’t think I need to get too into it, you were there. It can be a lot. Didn’t want to push you too far.”

You hum contentedly, playing with the little gold chain he always wears. “I understand that now, but I’m a big girl. I can handle whatever you want to give me, promise.”

“Don’t say that,” Jean groans, “too tired for round two.”

Your hand falls into the mess between your thighs, and you wince. “Maybe after a shower?”

“Greedy,” Jean tuts, scooping you up with him to make the journey over to your bathroom, “my greedy, pretty girl.”

[kariighost]

I LOVE HIM I LOVE HIM ILOVE HIM I LOVEHIIM

[raebae0001]

sigh. i need some soul crushing, gut wrenching angst. i wanna cry and bawl my eyes out. help

[exorciqsm-0]

Their fav emoji combos >ᵥ_ᵥ<

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁.𖥔

Eren Yeager:

✋😧🤚

“Shoot my fault”

Onyankopon:

👴🏾🕶️🤏🏾

“Gah Dayumm”

Gojo Satoru:

✋🥺

“Stop! this isnt you queen”

Nobara Kugisaki

👩🏾🤏🏻

“That’s why you about to get snatched out your frontal”

Roronoa Zoro:

😐👎

“Stfu+nobody cares”

Portgas d Ace:

👉😝👈

“LALALALALALALALALALA”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁.𖥔

Guys it’s one Am and I can’t sleep lol

[duckymcdoorknob]

Little baby drabble to celebrate my sleep-deprived self eating cold chicken nuggets with Chic-fil-a Polynesian sauce eXACTLY like this at 3am

The muted sound of air hissing wakes you from your sleep. Well, it wasn’t only the air; you did have to go pee too. You blink a few times, rubbing your eyes to try and center yourself, wondering if it was just a hallucination. That’s when you hear it again…. And again… and again…

Best to go investigate. Was it a ghost? An appliance? Did you leave the faucet on?

Nope.

When you step outside your bedroom door, the sound got clearer, growing more and more loud until you had reached the kitchen.

There, you saw the faint light of the refrigerator and a figure hunched over it. You were about to jump on their case until you hear the sound again, followed by a hum of approval.

You step closer and closer, bleary eyes and barely conscious. When you reach the foot of the fridge, you realize that the silhouette was none other than your beloved boyfriend.

“Babe, iz 2 in the mornin’,” you slur, causing your beloved to tense. “Why’re you ‘wake?”

He turns around to reveal exactly what he was doing, and a mouthful of what you had just heard. He smiles (well, as much as one can smile with a mouthful of food), plucking a strawberry from its container and shaking the can of whipped cream. “Strbebby?” he asks, voice greatly contorted.

You close your eyes as a smile creeps onto your lips. “I’d love a ‘strbebby’,” you tease, grabbing the fruit from his fingertips.

He swallows and laughs a bit as you take a bite. “Open,” he demands and you obey. He sprays a small amount of whipped cream in your mouth, quickly doing the same for himself.

You both swallow the the food in your mouths, laughing with little exhales through the nose. He pulls you in for a gentle kiss. “Tastes sweet…” he murmurs.

— Satoru Gojo, Yuuji Itadori, Armin Arlert, Ranpo Edogawa, Atsushi Nakajima, Howl Pendragon, Kojiro Nanjo, Kaoru Sakurayashiki, Finral Roulacase (SHUT UPPP I LOVE HIM SO MUCH), Sanji, Usopp (HIM TOO 😍😍), Kaveh, Tighnari, Itto, Thoma—

[merakidoll]

eating her out through underwear !

“n-no games pleaseee” you knew by the sly smirk on his face that your words were gonna go unheard. when his long tongue licked your slit through your underwear, you could scream from the need you body had. your muscles were tense, thighs shaking, and eyes big. a pout forming on your lips that he was gonna do this his way- not yours.

“it’s okay princess, i gotcha” he reassured, the same silly smirk present, a mischievous glint in his pretty orbs. he took his focus to your thighs, kissing the skin and trailing his tongue to the pattern of a stretch mark. “d-daddy” you whined bucking your hips hoping to feel something, but was only left with a harsh slap to your pussy and a “be good” warning.

he kissed your pussy through the mesh fabric underwear that had pretty red cherry decorated all over its light pink color. a wet spot appearing to show on your bud when his kisses turned into sucks. your bud in his mouth, while he sucked on it - the painfully sexy sound of the underwear catching his saliva and your moans in the rooms air.

“g-god” you shut your eyes already feeling the intense stare he had on you while he continued his foolery of plunging his tounge at your hole knowing you could only feel the heat that his mouth radiated against you, but not the warm muscle entering you.

his thumbs moved to your clit rubbing softly, the vibrations of his moans of the little bit of sweetness he could taste coming from you making him rock hard. hips rubbing into the fabric of the bed to ease the heavy feeling in his balls.

❛ armin, onyankopon, gojo, toji, zoro, ace, jotaro ༉‧₊˚

[tetzoro]

☆ 𓂃 THE EIGHT PHASES OF KINKTOBER !

Another year, another kinktober! Welcome to this years; I’m absolutely over the moon about it hehe ! I hope you enjoy it too ❤︎ 

Please be mindful of the tags on each installment as there are some pieces with dark content and remember that these are all works of fiction.

⭑ 𓂃 ꒰ New Moon ! ꒱ ― OCT 3rd. Camboy!Eren.

╰ Camboy!Eren. Eren accidentally stumbled upon his newest side gig, pleasuring himself before thousands of viewers. But honestly, it’s all for his favorite creator — you. WC : 2k

⭑ 𓂃 ꒰ Waxing Crescent ! ꒱ ― OCT 8th. Perv!Sanji + Food Play + Praise.

╰ The Love Cook. Sanji has always had an affinity for cooking but nothing could ever compare to cooking for you. But his plan backfires and he realizes he’s in for more than he bargained for. WC : 4.6k

⭑ 𓂃 ꒰ First Quarter ! ꒱ ― OCT 11th. Zoro + Sword Play.

╰ Sword and Sheath. After another slew at sea, you and Zoro have the ship all to yourselves as the crew restocks up on the island. They say that curiosity kills the cat, but what happens when you've tamed the beast? WC : 5.2k

⭑ 𓂃 ꒰ Waxing Gibbous ! ꒱ ― OCT 14th. Implied Yandere! Mihawk + Predator / Prey.

╰ Cat and Mouse. Mihawk has returned from his latest mission but nothing sets his adrenaline off more than chasing you around the Manor. Better start running now. WC : 2.2k

⭑ 𓂃 ꒰ Full Moon ! ꒱ ― OCT 17th. Stoner!Ace + Dubcon + Weed Use.

╰ Smokin’ Aces. The ASL brothers know how to throw a good party and tonight was no different. WC : 3.4k

⭑ 𓂃 ꒰ Waning Gibbous ! ꒱ ― OCT 22nd. Tendou + Non Con + Somno.

╰ Peeping Tendou. He’s always been obsessed with you, but now he finally has the chance to show you how good you’d be together. Hopefully you'll wake up soon to realize it. — Fics For Gaza ! WC : 961

⭑ 𓂃 ꒰ Last Quarter ! ꒱ ― OCT 25th + Ex!Barou + Dacryphilia + Face Fucking.

╰ Big Bad Barou. Running into your ex is never easy, especially at a halloween party with all of your mutual friends. The question is, will you blow off your date in favor for him? . . . Of course you will.

⭑ 𓂃 ꒰ Waning Crescent ! ꒱ ― OCT 31st. Yakuza Boss! Kuroo + TBD.

╰ Angel. The club had been bought up by none other than Kuroo Tetsuro, the head of the Nekoma Family. As his favorite, you’ve come to expect that whenever he shows up to the club, he’s only there for you.

NOTE : If you’d like to be tagged in any of these, please let me know. You MUST have your age somewhere on your blog to interact. ❤︎

[plussizeficchick]

Men that still get shy when you tell them how attractive they are to you :((

Their cheeks get all hot and flushed, they still get a weird, funny feeling in their tummy. They still try to cover their mouth to hide the bashful smile that makes it’s way to their face, but it’s fruitless because you’re always pulling that hand into yours, lacing your fingers together.

They still get flustered when you tell them that you want them to fuck you, that they’re so hot and you’re so wet, even though he hasn’t done anything to warrant such a reaction. He’s simply manspreading on your living room sofa, mindlessly scrolling through channels when you make yourself known on his lap.

It’s subtle, at first. You press innocent kisses to his cheek and he can’t help the quirk in his lip. The smile itching its way. You trail to his neck, kisses getting a bit slower, wetter. He’s not so sure it’s innocent anymore. You start sucking on his jugular and he has to grit his teeth to prevent the groan that’s aching to come out. And when you add teeth? He’s gone.

You don’t even have time to register before he’s got you pinned underneath him on the sofa, veiny hand gripping your throat to suck his own marks into the skin. “Can’t even relax on the couch without you trying to fuck me.” He tuts, annoyed, though you know he’s anything but. 

He grinds his hard length into you and you can’t help but moan at the delicious friction. “You just looked s’good. I can’t help it!” You whine into his neck, and he’s thankful you can’t see the slight blush that makes its way to his face.

He composes himself before deciding to take pity, pulling his shorts halfway down his legs while you pull your panties to the side. You’re both too eager so you settle for rubbing against each other. The head of his cock brushes your clit just right, and you’re so wet, he’s sure he could just slip in.

It doesn’t take long before you’re both cumming, your clit throbbing against his cock, while he paints your cute, pudgy tummy white. 

It’s just not fair, you make him feel like a schoolboy.

— TOJI, NANAMI, YUUTA, Geto, BAKUGO, Iida, Izuku, AIZAWA, Enji, LEVI, ERWIN, Reiner, Armin, IWAIZUMI, Ushijima, OSAMU, Tsukishima, RINDO, Draken, Giyu, SANEMI, ILLUMI, ZORO, Ace, LAW