#he'll just dig his heels in

[madame-mongoose]

you should put zekis’s dad and the librarian in a room and make them fight over her divorce style

you say this like they actually care about her more than than they actually do

[arolesbianism]

Just imagined Bonnie and Fydd hanging out... It's so jover guys I was in the middle of mumbling to myself abt something completely different and went dead silent to envision them talking to eachother in my head

[bi-writes]

ok reverse the TROPE !!!!!! sugar-mommy!f!reader x retired!simon <333 (18+)

he got discharged on a medical injury. his knee flares up now, phantom pains that shoot up his leg and pinch his spine. he feels like a failure--a lieutenant in his prime, and now he has to acclimate to civilian life and grit his teeth instead of drown the voices in his head out with gunfire.

he's been deployed as much as he could be just to stay away from this kind of place. so he didn't have to get on a train, or take the tube. so he didn't have to think about looking over his shoulder in the shops or learn how to pay a wifi bill. he hates going to the doctor's office, and he hates learning how to properly open his bank account, just to learn that there's nearly nothing in it.

the numbers just dwindle before his very eyes. the rent is too high, even in his shitty studio. when did cable cost that much? why can't he go to the pub for just a few pounds anymore? where is the compensation for giving more than a decade of his life in service of his country just to have to wait in fucking lines to get his medication and argue over the phone about where all his fucking money went.

maybe he never had any. maybe it's all lost somewhere. he'd ask his former captain, but he's halfway across the world, and over his dead body would he hold a hand out and ask for charity when he's 36 years old.

"don't get that one."

simon turns his head, a snarl caught in his throat. there's a pretty thing standing beside him, also staring at the array of ramen packages in focus. you take the orange package out of his hand and put it back on the shelf before reaching for a different package. it's got japanese characters on it, so he can't read the label, but you smile up at him.

"this one is way better. good price for it, too."

"'s more expensive."

"yeah, but you get eight packets in this one. that one only gives you five."

at the till, you notice him subtly counting the notes in his wallet. you pretend not to notice, rocking back and forth on your heels, but just as he picks up his bag to leave, you speak up.

"you wanna get a drink? on me."

and fuck, he could use a bourbon. on the first one, he thought your presence was pleasantly tolerable. by the fourth, he's staring down your shirt, dark eyes mapping out what the curves of your breasts might look like in the palm of his big hand. by the sixth, you're pressed up against a sticky bathroom wall and holding on for dear life as he pounds into you from behind, knickers in his back pocket, manicured nails digging slits into his tattooed forearm.

you sink those claws in that night; and you do not let go.

the third night you ask him out, he sees your flat for the first time. in a nice building downtown, doorman holding the door open for you. the elevator ride is long enough for him to see the tops of buildings, and when you step inside your flat, he swallows hard when he realizes you are way out of his league.

gorgeous leather seats and couch. large tv with surround sound. a french kitchen with a gas stove. your flat is filled with knickknacks and candles, low yellow lights and wonderful collections of art and little glass vases and sculptures. your home is filled with warmth, and you don't belong with him.

just as he thinks about backing out of the place, you turn and grip the lapels of his jacket, tugging him closer. you touch your nose to his over his mask, smiling, and you push the door closed behind him and press him up against it.

"so, which room do you wanna christen first? i thought we could start in the kitchen."

you're a woman that knows what she wants, he'll give you that; and he doesn't have it in him to say no.

the sun wakes him up in the morning. he doesn't remember falling asleep--he doesn't like to make staying over a habit. when he sits up on his elbows, he takes a deep breath, realizing his back hurts a lot less. the mattress of your bed is wonderful, much more supportive than the flat mess he has on the floor in his own place, and he blinks himself awake when you come out of the bathroom.

you're freshly dressed, makeup on, and you're putting on your jewelry when you see him. you smile at him, coming towards the bed, and you bend down to kiss where his mouth would be under the mask.

"good morning, simon. sleep well?"

"mmm..."

you take that as a yes, cupping his jaw, and you kiss him over his mask again before going to get some shoes from your closet. he doesn't comment on the fact that when you open it, he realizes the closet there is only for shoes...

"you hungry, baby? want some breakfast?"

"i--oh..." simon lays back down when his back tweaks, and you reach for him when you see him fall back in the mirror. you smooth a hand down the side of his body, frowning.

"why don't you stay in bed? i'll have my assistant bring you something."

"no, tha's--"

"i'm not asking, simon, i'm telling you," you coo. you pick up one of his hands and trace one of his scars with your finger. you have long, almond-shaped nails. there's pretty chrome nail art over the wine red color you wear, and he focuses on it as you kiss his knuckles gently. "will you wait for me to come home?"

"where y'goin'?"

"gotta work, honey," you wink down at him. "and i want you to be here when i get back."

"tha' so?"

"mhm," you smile. "right here. in my bed--" you lift the covers a little and peek, giggling as you put it back down after getting a glimpse at his cock resting against his lower stomach. "just like this, simon."

he doesn't remember if he ever goes back to his flat. he thinks he went one more time, to grab a few bottles of his medication, but the tick in his knee hadn't been so bad with the great physical therapy you started paying for and the warm massages you gave him every night.

and his back--your bed always contours perfectly against the muscles of his back, and he finds himself sleeping a full seven hours every single night.

not to mention his new work outs. simon hadn't been to the gym much since coming home, but he knows he must be burning hundreds of calories with you. you test his limits. as soon as you're home, you jump on him, and the stress relief your pussy brings him is just what he needs to get the edge off. you're a fiend, especially after a rough day, and the way you bounce on his cock in every room of your flat keeps him up at night sometimes with the most glorious wet dreams.

you're up late that night. you're curled up on the couch in one of simon's shirts and a glass of red wine, and there's a mountain of papers around you that you're focusing on reading. you have a huge presentation tomorrow, and everything needs to be perfect. simon comes into the living room, shirtless, and you smile when you see him standing there. he's wearing the new sweats you got him, but you can't focus on that too much when you're staring at his pudgy, toned stomach and his nice pecs. you bite your lip, taking a long sip of your wine, and simon hikes up his mask to take a bite out of his bowl of ice cream.

"gonna be up late tonight?" he asks, and you nod. "want me to sit with ya?" you nod again, lifting up your legs, and when he takes a seat next to you, you drape them across his lap. you lean over to give his scarred cheek a kiss, and when you turn back to your paperwork, a thought comes across your mind.

"we should get married," you say softly, circling a note over something. simon keeps eating, as if what you said doesn't phase him.

"why's tha', love?"

"tax benefits."

"mmm..." simon drops one of his hands and thumbs against your ankle. the flat is warm. his stomach is full. his body hurts less, and his heart aches with something nice. "olright then."

you smile.

"good. cause i already bought the ring."

[nochepsicodelica]

It's two in the morning and you're knocking on your own front door after a night out with your friends. Your mind has been occupied by static, not allowing you to remember that you have a key to let yourself in, so you stand there alone, waiting to be let in. You plant your hand on the wall to keep yourself balanced, looking left and right to see if anybody or any car is looking at you as they pass by.

Just as you're about to knock, again, the door opens and you flinch, your other hand flying to the wall to remain steady on your feet. You look up at your man with warped vision, blinking a little to try and clear your view of him. You can't contain your laughter when you see the stern look on Toji's face, his green eyes laced with concern you can't process in this state.

"What the fuck..." Toji mutters, to himself. What kind of friends would just drop you off without making sure that you get inside your house, safely? It's late. Who knows how long you had been standing there before you knocked. Anyone could have snatched you away.

Toji will catch you. You know he'll catch you if you just lean forward into him, like a backwards trust fall, so you set the plan in motion. You drag your feet and move your hands along the wall until you're in the safe zone, and then you just fall forward.

"Woah, hey." He's quick to hold you up against him, to prevent you from sliding down his body and to the floor. "Hey, you good? Talk to me. Can you walk?" Toji doesn't receive much of a response from you. Just quiet little giggles and incoherent mumbles. He sighs and picks you up, draping you over his shoulder. The door is shut and locked, before he makes his way to the bedroom. The light is already on, because he was awake the entire time, awaiting your arrival. Toji sets you down on the bed and briefly sits on the edge, by your feet.

"You didn't answer my calls, and I texted you like twenty times." He lifts your feet and takes their place, before setting them down on his lap so that you are comfortable. His fingers make haste of undoing the buckles on your high heels and he sets the shoes down, placing them under the bed.

You simply hum in response, not entirely sure of how you got to the room. The light is so bright and it's irritating your eyes, making it hard for you to hold them open.

"Told you to let me know if you needed me to pick you up, dummy." Toji wraps his hands around one of your ankles, his fingers kneading with little pressure, incase the area is tender.

"N-Nooo, i'm... here. Here," you babble.

It's so frustrating to be unable to get a full explanation out of you, right now. Your responses are borderline illogical and it's not doing Toji any good. He feels like his heart is about to beat out of his chest. He can't calm down, after he spent the last few hours wondering why you stopped responding to him and why you weren't answering his calls. To open the door and instantly get a whiff of your night out was enraging, not because you got extremely intoxicated, but because there was no one looking out for you by the end of your time out.

Toji understands that there is no point in digging into this, now. You can't even walk or see straight, so he settles for making simple conversation that you can easily digest.

"Did your phone die or something?"

You shake your head, side to side, and his blood boils all over again. This was supposed to be an easy conversation, but he was just so damn worried. His entire body is tense with concern.

"Fuck." He sighs, nodding slightly at your response. "Yeah, okay."

A few seconds of silence go by and Toji thinks you may have fallen asleep, but then you speak up, out of nowhere, again.

"Took lots of pictures..." you mumble, eyes closed as you dig into your pocket for your phone. Once it's in your hand, you toss it on the bed for Toji to grab. He puts your massage on hold and picks up your phone, unlocking it and going to your photo gallery, where immediately, he sees previews of the pictures of you and those so called "friends" who abandoned you on your doorstep. The only reason he cares for those group photos is because you're smiling widely, seemingly laughing, and overall looking extremely happy in every one of them, but as much as he loves the look on your face in those, he loves the pictures you took of yourself and the ones your friends took of you, more. Some you had already sent to him, others he hadn't seen until then, so he sent those pictures to himself.

Toji turns your phone off and sets it aside, before grabbing ahold of your other ankle and repeating the same treatment that he did for the first one.

"There was... ugh..." you sweep away some strands of hair that almost went into your mouth. "A man. I dropped my phone and he- and he got too close behind me when I bent down to pick it up." You nod, with your eyes as wide as they can be in this state, like you're trying to prove that you aren't lying by looking him straight in his eyes.

"That's fucking disgusting, mama." Toji's eyebrows furrow, discomfort written all over his face with this new information you revealed. He squeezes your ankle a little tighter, his mind beginning to cloud with thoughts of never letting you go out without him again, but before he even thinks of spilling these thoughts to you, he asks you the most important questions.

"Are you okay? Did he touch you?"

"Mm-mm, no." You shake your head as quickly as you can without getting dizzy. "Saw his legs behind my legs and I got up and gave him this look..." You furrow your brows and lid your eyes, a gaze that doesn't seem intimidating or warning enough, now, after so many drinks. Your face quickly relaxes after and you roll your eyes with a tired sigh. "Yup, that was the face I made and then I walked away," you say, your attitude more upbeat.

"Did he leave you alone?" Toji asks, hoping nothing more happened. If there is more, he'll have you describe this man to the best of your ability, and he will hunt him down until he can positively assure that he's no longer part of the world's population.

"Yeahhh, don't know where he went." You hum like you're trying to remember, as if you even have that knowledge. You walked away and didn't turn back around, something that finally concludes your brief inability to recall. "Think he got lost." You giggle.

"Good. I'm glad," Toji says. You hum in agreement, and your eyes fall shut, gracing you with two seconds of sleep before your head nods and you wake up, again. Your bashful smile evolves into a short laugh, one that has Toji smiling at how precious you are. "You tired, mama?"

You nod and blink slowly in response, fighting the urge to shut your eyes for longer. Your lips curl into a lazy smile, when Toji presses a kiss to your ankle, before he moves your feet and sets them on the bed so he can get up.

"Let's get you ready for bed, then."

[pretty-little-mind33]

James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: James has been persuing you for years and you've never said yes, until now?

Genre: Fluff 😇🎉 (bc i love happiness, ur welcome)

Warnings: misunderstandings, lovesick!James <3

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

It's not James's fault he's been head over heels in love with you for longer than he can remember. And it's really not his fault either that he's spent years acting like a complete and utter fool just to have a sliver of your attention. 

Talking the loudest in any room you're in? Easy.

"Accidentally" flying too close to where you're sitting in the Quidditch stands while he's supposed to be playing just so he can flip around obnoxiously? He's done that over three times now. 

So, when he hears you'll be at the Three Broomsticks this evening, it isn't surprising to anyone that he convinces Sirius and Remus to accompany him.

The moment they walk in, their loud demeanor makes everyone turn their heads. It's no secret James, Sirius, and Remus are the handsomest guys in your year — so no one could blame you when you look up too. 

Your friend digs her elbow into your side when James sees you looking and struts to your table. You sit up, taking a long sip of your pumpkin juice as James leans in and crosses his arms.

Sirius and Remus stand behind him, amused. "Ladies," James winks, his eyes focused only on you. "What brings you here on this lovely Friday evening?"

You turn your head, avoiding his gaze with a small smile that makes James lose his mind, "Nothing that concerns you, Potter,"

"Can I buy you a drink?" he asks, unfazed by your bluntness as he motions to your empty glass. 

When you stand, James smoothly moves out of the way and you send him a look behind your shoulder. "Mm, no thanks. But if you want you can walk with me to order my own drink," you joke, not thinking he'll actually want to.

But, if James was a puppy, he'd be your puppy. You have him wrapped around your little pinky and the only person who doesn't see it is you. 

"Gladly," The boy smirks and his arm brushes yours as he walks next to you. You frown a little but don't say anything. You've never minded James's attention, and you know he's been after you for years now, but still you can't wrap your mind around him being serious about it.

In your mind, the attention was always bound to fade with time, and you wouldn't be caught as the fool who'd fallen for it.

However, as you lean against the bar to order another pumpkin juice and you feel James's eyes glued on you, you start to wonder. 

"So, when's the expiration date for this little game?" you ask, looking at him seriously. 

James leans against the bar too and completely turns his body to you. "Hmm? What?" he asks with a smile. He tucks the loose strand of hair from in front of your eyes behind you ear, seemingly proud of himself when he can see you clearly again. 

"This," you point at him, and then throw your arms up dramatically, "Whatever it is that you're doing."

James just smiles. He's not really catching on as his hand slides closer to yours on the bar counter. "What am I doing?" he whispers, leaning in. He has that look in his eyes, the one that makes your stomach flutter. 

You move your hand away from his. You sound exhausted, "All this flirting! Aren't you done yet?" you say it a little loudly and the woman who hands you your drink sends you a glare. Your cheeks heat up and you mumble a small sorry as you slide her your money. 

James catches your other arm before you can turn around and walk away from him. "Hey wait, what do you mean am I done? Do'you want me to be done?" he sound unsure and you can see his confusion on his face. 

Now you're confused. "Are you not planning on being done?" you whisper.

James can't hear you over the loud music and chatter inside so he moves you outside gently and you don't have to time to wonder why you let him.

It's slightly dark but the air is warm and James can hear you now when you ask the question again. He looks you over, still extremely puzzled by the entire situation.

"Wait, done with what?" he asks.

You blink at him. "What?" you feel like you're losing your mind. 

"Am I done with what?" he asks camly and you roll your eyes. 

"Done with flirting with me!" you exclaim, running a hand in your hair, "I- I don't understand, James. Why haven't you moved on? Sure, it was funny for a while but it's been years, even you must find the joke stale by now?"

James mouth opens and closes like some kind of fish and then he stares at you like you have lost your mind. "Joke? What joke?" he says and walks a little closer to you. He sounds even more confused. "Y/n, do you want me to stop flirting with you?"

You bite your lip, "I mean, yes? Because, it's not really funny anymore. I didn't mind it, Potter, but —" you pause and then hold the drink in your hand tighter. "Okay, here. What if I say I like you too? Can we just have a good laugh about it and then it all be over?"

James's frown deepens and he waves his arms in the air. "Wait, you think I'm joking?"

You blink at him again. "You're not?"

James runs a hand through his hair, chuckling in disbelief, "Of course I'm not joking," he walks even closer and you feel his presence as your skin tingles. You look up as he brushes his thumb on your chin and then smiles warmly, "I'd never pursue anyone as a joke. If you said you like me, then I would say thank Merlin and then I would kiss you until you couldn't feel those gorgeous lips of yours," he says it so calmly but you almost drop your drink. 

"Wait, so you actually, no-jokes, like me?" 

"Oh yeah. Why would you think I was making that up?" James moves his thumb to brush over your lips now, a look of adoration in his eyes, "I'm not that committed to my jokes," he teases. 

He pauses to think, "you think a twelve-year-old boy would write you cheesy love notes every class and actually send them if it was a joke? Or likewise, a sixteen-year-old would spend all of 6th year reading every single book you borrowed from the library just in case he had the chance to impress you? Or lose sleep over the way you wear your hair, or know that you change your nail-polish every week but you rotate the same colors since 4th year," James blushes a little at the admission and pauses, "and now I just sound like a creep, don't I?"

You laugh and the sound makes James grin. You hesitate but touch his cheek, tilting your head, "So, you meant every over-the-top gesture and every hilariously stupid pick-up-line?" you ask, "ever since 2nd year?" 

James nods, leaning into your touch. "Mmm yeah, but we can pretend that I was joking about the pick-up-lines that way it's less embarrassing for me," he says sheepishly.

"But I liked your pick up lines," you pout with a smile, your shoulders relaxing. 

James's eyes sparkle, "Yeah? You did?"

You smile at him. "No, but now it's funnier that you were serious about them."

James looks at you and he laughs. He throws his head back with a grin and your chest tightens even more. Has he always been this handsome or have you just never let yourself fully admire him? James looks at you again and his next words almost cause a heart attack. "Merlin, I've never wanted to kiss you as much as I do now," 

Your eyes flicker to his lips unconsciously and you realiz ehow close he is. You're nervous now and James can tell. Gently, he takes the drink in your hand and sets it on the small ledge of the building. It might fall but that's the least of your worries. For now, you need to focus on remembering how to breathe. 

Something must be different in the way you're looking at him because James asks you if he can kiss you. Years and years of flirting and he's never asked you that. 

You don't answer him and just when the silence starts to become awkward you take his cheeks in your hands and pull him towards you. Your lips hit his clumsily and you gasp into his mouth when his arm swoops behind you and he pulls you closer. James kisses you hungrily and you start to wonder why you hadn't done this years earlier.

When James disconnects his lips from yours and looks at you sweetly. "I didn't think you'd say yes," he whispers, "even less that you'd say it like that," his cheeks are tainted pink and your lip-gloss stains his lips. 

"Neither did I," you admit and look away a moment. Goosebumps run across your arms and, because you don't know where to put your hands anymore, you put them in your jacket pockets. You frown and pull out the galleons you'd used to pay for your drink with your left hand. You look back at James and he looks guilty. "What's this?" you ask. 

"I paid for your drink when you weren't looking. I knew you'd most likely say no again but I couldn't resist. I'm sorry," he holds his nape and sways on his feet.

You stare at him, slightly annoyed but also impressed that he'd put the money in your pocket without you noticing. You outsrech your open palm for him to take the money. "You'know, you make it very hard for me not to fall head over heels in love with you, James Potter."

James grins and closes your hand around his. "That the point, love," he says. 

You roll your eyes, realizing if he'd gone behind your back to pay for you he'll never accept your money now. "So, are you gonna ask me out properly or what?"

James smirks, "Are you going to say yes this time?"

You grin, "You'll just have to find out now, won't you? Tenth times the charm?"

"I don't think that's the expression—"

"Just ask me already, you idiot," you giggle.

[disgustingtwitches]

MDNI

Uncommon kinks I think 141 would have (feat. König)

~

Gaz: Quirofilia, the love of hands. Especially manicured hands. Pretty hands getting dirtied by gardening without gloves. Playing the piano with dainty fingers. Long nails squeezing the trigger of a Glock. A light touch running up and down his body. The sting of those pretty nails digging into his back. Soft palms wrapped around his thick shaft, massaging precum over his tip.

Ghost: This one is a little out there, but nebulophilia (sexual arousal when in fog/steam). He likes it really, really thick. Like to the point you can barely see your hand if you held it out in front of you. Likes to make you look for him in the mist. He was always so quiet, always likes to make you jump when he catches you. Then the heaviness of the air in his lungs when he inhales, ugh it just does something to him. The way your skin sticks to each other from the wetness of the air.

Price: Hear me out. Vacuuming. Watching a woman vacuum. Especially in heels. Just the thought of a domestic, hyper feminine woman makes him cream his pants. Especially if it's a part of brat taming. Speaking of brat taming and hyper femininity, he's into corsetry. It doesn't have to be limited to just your waist. He likes to lace up any soft part of you. Likes to tie the laces so tight, your skin seeps out the side and back. He likes to constrict your movement and make you breathe shallow.

Soap: Wrestling, duh. He'll show you some moves to take him down, grab you from behind and make you throw him over your shoulder, kick the back of your knees and make you kneel in front of him, put you in a chokehold with his arms. Loves getting sweaty. Loves the panting. Loves the way you mess up each other's clothes and hair. And then fuck each other's brains out on the mats.

König: Interrogation play. Always one to be in charge. (Of course there's always a safe word but you like to test yourself, see how far he will go and how much you can take.) Tie you up to an uncomfortable wooden chair. Throw cold water on you. Pull your hair. Face slapping. Light choking. Make you genuinely scared. Tie you up in an incredibly uncomfortable position where your arms are tied up behind you and attached to a pipe on the ceiling so you are forced to bend over and stand on your tiptoes. Makes you cry and cry from overstimulation. Always asks you for information you don't know anything about. Then proceeds to fuck the sense out of you, still asking for Intel.

[lymtw]

Weathering A Storm Together

Toji calling you over to his place because there's gonna be a storm and he wants you to weather it with him. If it gets too bad, you can't travel to each other, so you might as well shelter together before you lose the option to do so.

He didn't greet you in a fluffy manner, but when does he? Usually, when you greet him with a hug, it'll start out normal and then his hand goes down south towards your ass, where he'll squeeze until you break the embrace.

You expected him to be handsy and up in your space because he really can't last five minutes without touching you, but it was as if he was being powered by the storm. You were pushed to the edge of the couch by him, his body wedged between your legs as he ambushed your lips with his own. His hands firmly grounded your hips to the couch cushions as if he were silently telling you not to move. Most of the lights in his apartment were off, just a lamp illuminating the scene of you and him on the couch and occasional lightning strikes that would cast light on your face. It was pouring outside, the sound of heavy rain and thunder filling your ears.

"What would you have done alone?" He plays with the hem of your hoodie, picturing the body beneath it.

"Nothing, Toji. Absolutely nothing. And you?" You tilt your head, allowing him to kiss your neck. One of your hands settles on the back of his neck, the other makes a mess out of his hair.

"Mm..." he groans at the feeling of you scratching his scalp. "I would've beat my dick to the thought of you and those pretty pictures you send me all the time. 'M glad you're here so I can fuck you instead."

You giggle, digging your heels into the cushions as he keeps smothering you with kisses. His crushing weight is completely welcomed by you as you attempt to bring him even closer.

"This my sweater?" His hands use their privilege on your body, going under the sweater to run up and down your waist. The warmth elicits goosebumps from you, and you can't help but writhe in his hold.

"You said I could hold onto it until you remembered to take it back, and I sure as hell am holding onto it."

His gaze pins you down, lips curling at your playful sass. He knows the obsessive thoughts that go behind sharing his clothes with you. You take his sweaters and he tells you to "hold onto them until he remembers to take them back" but that's just his code for 'think of me when you get off to the scent of my cologne'. He only takes the sweater back once your perfume overpowers his cologne, and it's then his turn to fantasize about you.

"That's good, doll. It smells like you, now." He presses his face against your chest, inhaling your scent deeply. "Mhm, that's my girl."

You giggle, brushing down strands of his hair with your fingers. You swear you felt something poke you down there while Toji face was pressed into you.

He pushes the bottom of your sweater up, over your midriff, until he sees the bottom of your bra. He kisses up your stomach, sucking a couple marks above your belly button and on your ribs before reaching your bra.

"Fuck, I love that you go shirtless sometimes when you wear my hoodies."

You laugh. "Yeah, my boobs are constant victims to your manhandling."

You play with his hair as he continues to explore your skin, littering more marks on it as he works his way up to removing your bra.

"They call me, baby. Who am I not to answer?" He pushes up the cups of your bra, watching intently as your breasts are exposed. "So soft and pretty, could keep my mouth on them all day if you'd let me."

He squishes the underside of your right boob, mesmerized by its malleability. His lips latch onto your nipple, sucking on the soft skin while his hand paws at the other one. You sigh, wishing you could press your thighs together.

"Fuck," he groans. "So soft, princess. I wanna ruin you."

You look down at him, your fingers still tangled in his hair. "Who's gonna stop you, baby? Me?" You take in his lustful gaze before finishing. "Absolutely not."

You sacrificed yourself to Toji. Your words got to him in a way you didn't think they would, but because of them, he was thrusting in and out of you mercilessly. He enjoyed watching your breasts bounce with every snap of his hips into yours.

"Fuck... fuck, mama," he almost whimpers. "You did this to yourself," he pants. "Was gonna fuck you... all nice and slow this time," he chuckles, breathlessly. "But, you won't ever let me be romantic, so fuck that." His nails dig into your hips when you start arching you back off the mattress.

"Oh my- Toji, Toji, fuck!" You claw at the couch cushion, your fingers shaking as you quickly lose grip.

You see another lightning strike behind Toji, through the window. You have two amazing views combined into one, tonight.

Toji wraps your legs around his waist to keep that strict rhythm in his thrusts. He leans forward, his forearms beside your head like a cage. "Why're you crying? Pretty girl's gonna cum? 'S that what's happening?"

You nod, gasping at his precision inside you. He's abusing his ability to find your sweet spot, torturing you with every roll of his hips. You hold back a sob, your heels digging into his lower back. Toji catches your tears with his lips, savoring the slight saltiness on his tongue. "Who else is gonna fuck you to tears like this?," he mutters into your jaw. "Huh? Who else?" He huffs against your cheek.

You let out a high pitched cry, your abdomen quivering against Toji's. "O-Only... you, T-Toji. Just, you...!"

"Uh-huh. Good girl." His nose drags down your cheek, leading his lips to your neck. "Absolutely no one else," he says before attaching his lips to your delicate skin. He knows you bruise easily so he uses this to his advantage.

"A-Ah... o-ow, Toji," your nails claw at his shoulder blades. You shudder at the sharp pain in your neck and collarbone.

"Hold still, just a couple more." His hips continue rolling into you, slower as he focuses on leaving hickeys on you skin.

"F-Fuck..." you inhale sharply when you feel his teeth on your shoulder.

"Mine," he mumbles beneath your ear. "These..." he presses on the bite mark and the litter of fresh marks on your skin, making you wince, "prove that you are mine."

He straightens his posture but keeps his gaze lowered to meet your dazed expression. Your brows are pinched, and though your eyes are lidded, he can make out tiny hearts in the slivers of your eyes that remain.

"Toji?" you moan.

"Yeah?" He groans, feeling your cunt clench around him.

"Can I," you shudder at the intensity of his green eyes focusing on you, "wanna cum."

He laughs. "How did that go from being a question to being a statement? Try again, doll face."

Your thighs quiver around his hips as he picks up the pace of his thrusts again. "U-Uh... Um..." your eyes roll back for a second. "Fuck, can I cum? Please?" It came out sounding desperate. There was a slight whine in your voice.

"Keep going."

"Toji, please? Please, make me cum. Please."

Your begging was working him towards his own peak, which is why he pushed for more from you.

"How badly do you want it, because to me it doesn't really sound like you want to cum. Convince me, mama."

You felt like tearing out your hair. You were going insane with this solid rhythm of his, holding you inches away from am earth shattering orgasm. Just a little more and you'll be tossed into a pleasurable void.

"Toji, please. Pretty please. Please, I need you to make me cum."

His hips pick up the pace the more you beg, his rapid breathing now audible to you.

"Please... daddy?" You plead, meekly.

That was it. That was enough to get whatever you wanted from Toji. His eyes widened, and for a split second, his soul was in your grasp. You willingly gave it back with twinkling eyes, and in return he made you cum so hard that you thought your spine would snap from how hard you arched off his bed. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, kissing it up as you cried his name out until it didn't sound like a real word anymore.

You felt Toji tremble against you, his hips pulling back before rocking back into you, languidly. All you could hear were little shaky breaths near your ear before feeling his warmth spew inside you. You could hear his strangled groans becoming soft moans as he slowed down.

"F-Fuck, fuck, Toji," you shuddered, tensing up at the sensitivity you felt in your cunt even when he slowed down. He groans, leaving a kiss behind on your shoulder before leaning back to look at you. His dazed expression mirrored your own. He leaned forward one more time to kiss you. It was lazy and sloppy, saliva coating your lips more and more each time they brushed his.

Toji released you, sliding his cock out to see the result of such an amazing fuck. He whistles, impressed by the sight of his cum dripping out of your pussy and onto the couch.

"God, really, Toji?" You can't suppress the smile forming on your lips.

"What? You look stunning, darling. Can feel my dick getting hard again." His hand finds your knee, stroking it gently with his thumb.

"Wait, give me two minutes. Still sensitive." You smile sheepishly.

"Take your time. You're stuck with me 'til the storm passes, anyway."

You smile. "Shouldn't be too long."

"That's cute. You're trynna be gone by tomorrow?" He hisses with fake sympathy, like he's about to break bad news to you. "Tough luck, doll. Forecast says the storm should last the next four days."

[konigsblog]

OCTOBER 17TH — KIDNAPPER!KÖNIG. His punishments are unusually violent, leaving deep and agonising welts and lengthy scars on your skin, and crimson leaking from beneath your thighs. (NON-CON)

2024 KINKTOBER MASTERLIST. (DAY 17)

NOTE: I apologise for this being a little late... (⁠T⁠T⁠)

PHOTO CREDIT: xbruised_peachx

König can be freakishly gentle for a man of his nature and size. His touch can be caring and cautious, careful not to grip you too tightly or firmly through pure and utter excitement and cuteness aggression. Don't blame him, Mäuschen. He's head over heels for you, a newfound and intriguing interest he can't get out of his rotten and decaying mind.

Although, he can become ruthless and unforgiving when you disobey. Considering his size, it doesn't take a lot to knock you unconscious, to leave you trembling on the filthy concrete ground beneath your feet. One rough and agonising punch to your cheekbone and you're stumbling backwards dizzily, your eyes glistening and bleary before they roll to the back of your skull, a painful and horrified whimper slipping from your bruised, burst lips. Your punishments are almost always the result of your attempted escapes. It's fruitless, he'll always catch up to you, military boots brushing the frozen, crispy autumn leaves beneath his large feet, gloved fingers grasping at your biceps.

“What don't you understand, Taube?” König mutters quietly beneath his cold breath, gazing down at the limp and almost lifeless body beneath him.

Your eyes gaze into his, a lone tear coating your bruised and bloodied cheek, mixing with the crimson fluid that seeps from the gushing wound on your face. You whine out, a small and weak sob for mercy before you fall unconscious, victim to König's brutality. He doesn't enjoy punishing you, or at least that's what he tells himself, a pointless attempt at reassuring himself that he's not that immoral or cruel — just misunderstood. He grinds his pearly teeth together, the taste of tobacco still on his lips from a previous cigarette, an addiction you only worsen by stressing him out. His calloused and scarred fingertips pull at the thin underwear that barely give you a slither of dignity.

Your head rolls backwards, his hands smearing the familiar gory liquid over your face as he wipes away a tear from your eye, pressing his scarred lips to your forehead as he slowly unzips his trousers. His breathing quickens as he exposes your bare, nude body to himself, admiring the deep welts that cover your rear and the back of your marked thighs, a haunting memory of the many punishments you've endured.

Your grown out fingernails leave deep, red scratch marks along his freckled and flushed back. He wears them proudly, like some sort of achievement. Or perhaps it's to taunt you, to show you how much he's weakened you, how exhausted you are, and how helpless and defenceless you are against someone like him. How despite your attempts at fighting back, you'll never overpower him. A puppet in his hands.

“I’m just trying to protect you, Mein herz.” He repeats, a bead of sweat wandering his wrinkled forehand as he pries your soft thighs apart with his grubby hands, stained with his grotesque sins. Teeth dig into the side of your nape as he ruts himself against your swollen and drooling cunt, his breathing laborious and his wide, insane eyes fixated on your shivering form. He grunts, an animalistic growl leaving him as he greedily and selfishly forces his way inside, sparing you no mercy for your rebellion.

“You’ll learn to become my pet, Runt. Just wait.”

Your skin is littered with agonising marks and fresh wounds, all that he's inflicted. He'll blame you for it, claiming that if you just obeyed that you wouldn't be beaten and roughened up. Your misery is his enjoyment, and a lesson for you to learn.

[yandere-wishes]

⋆༺ One For The Money, Two For The Show ༻⋆

⋆｡‧˚ʚ Yandere!Harvey Dent x Housewife! Reader ɞ˚‧｡⋆

⋆.𝄞 𝐻𝒶𝓇𝓋𝑒𝓎 𝒷𝓎 𝐻𝑒𝓇'𝓈 & 𝑀𝒾𝓁𝓁𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒟𝑜𝓁𝓁𝒶𝓇 𝑀𝒶𝓃 𝒷𝓎 𝐿𝒶𝓃𝒶 𝒟𝑒𝓁 𝑅𝑒𝓎𝄞˚.⋆

Love does not eliminate flaws it accepts them.

⋆◐⋆ Thinking about Yandere! Harvey Dent who's always been a dreamer. Whose thoughts are always a bit too diluted with fantasies and fiction, with a rêve just out of his reach.

⋆◐⋆ Courtrooms or suburbia. He harbors both between his teeth letting the nectar trickle down his throat, choking on a perfection he knows he'll never be.

⋆◐⋆ Maybe he'd always been a bit too orthodox, a bit too romantic. That's what happens when you're raised on Americanna fairy tales. On folktales of princes riding white fords and finding their princess having Malts at the local soda fountain. That's what happens when you overdose on sitcoms and kitchen commercials. They make you dream of soft hands and even softer lips...

⋆◐⋆ Yandere! Harvey Dent who, even now, even after his disfigurement, after his fall from grace. Still dreams of having a perfect life. A sweet little wife to come home to. Someone to trail kisses over his bullet wounds, to hold both sides of his face. Someone to love like the sun loves the moon, someone who'll love him back.

⋆◐⋆ He watches "I Dream of Jeannie" and "Bewitched" in surfeit, intoxicated by the soft pink and green hues of domestic bliss. Childhood habits die hard but they always resurface screaming. He's sprawled out on the couch as Harv nags him to change to "The Addams Family" or at the very least "The Munsters". But it's the same thing, right? Two sides of the same coin. What Harvey wants Harv wants. This perfect little life, with a perfect little wife.

⋆◐⋆ Morticia, Jeannie, Lily, Samantha. What the hell is the difference? Harv's eyes follow the trajectory of the silver celestial spinning atop their head. Does it even matter what side it lands on if they want the same thing? They're both dreaming of opening a pristine door. Of being greeted by the thick aromas of spice and rice. To hear the melodic click of heels on tiled floors. Maybe they've always been desperate for comfort, chasing a fantasy he can never quite grasp.

⋆◐⋆ Yandere! Harvey Dent whose dreaming of a girl he knows, a pretty little girl from his past. A starry-eyed law student doing her internship at the DA's office. Or maybe a spunky little lady he took on as a henchman, a broken-hearted girl who rains bullets like stars and follows every decree of his coin, like a sacred oath. It doesn't really matter. So long as you're you, his ethereal little princess awaiting your two-faced prince to find you.

⋆◐⋆ In his dreams, you wear heels that chime on the carpeted floor. How he doesn't really know. You hand him a cup of tea when he walks in and a kiss that tastes like honeydew.

⋆◐⋆ Harv agrees, so maybe just maybe that's enough to satisfy the fantasy. To know that, if he's crazy, it's not only his half going insane.

⋆◐⋆ You'd be his perfect bride, and he'd love you with all his tattered heart. Plus he just knows you'd look better in the 1950's Dior dress and channel-cropped cardigan. Harv laughs he's more interested in the heels, designer, long, pointed. Relishing in the thought of their tips digging painfully into the back of his thigh.

⋆◐⋆ 'She'd look better inside the apartment, scurrying to the door when she hears us come in.' Harvey closes his eyes, the thought tastes utterly divine, rattling around his fractured head. Being wanted, being needed. It would feel nothing short of heavenly.

⋆◐⋆ 'You'd like that college boy I know you would, pretty little princess wrapping her frail arms around our neck. Kissing your cheek, my cheek. Our hands trailing up her hips-"

⋆◐⋆ Harvey shakes his head trying to get rid of the fantasy. He can't let such thoughts linger long, or else he'd spill blood just to have you between his arms. Sweet, cute, and frivolous, awaiting him to return to you once more.

⋆◐⋆ Thinking of Yandere! Harvey Dent, whose coin lands on the scared side, but really deep down he knows it never mattered what side was destined to surface. He knew he was always meant to have you.

⋆◐⋆ Yandere! Harvey Dent who corners you when you're out alone one night. Who pushes stars between your lips tasting eden on your tongue, eager to choke on your sweetness. It's a proposal laced with desperation and obsession. A bloody candy gram screaming I love you.

⋆◐⋆ He's too high off of his delusions to notice how you struggle and squirm.

⋆◐⋆ He only fully registers the fear shimmering all so brightly in your big doe eyes, when the tears begin to fall. When he notices how desperately you try to pull your wrist from his grasp. It takes a moment to calm Harv down, to make him understand that you're reaction, while not ideal, is in fact normal.

⋆◐⋆ 'This is fine' he thinks, 'it just takes some getting used to'.

⋆◐⋆ Everything takes getting used to at first. Fingers trailing absentmindedly over the knuckles of his scarred hand.

⋆◐⋆ That night you cried yourself to sleep, as Harvey whispered saccharine little words into your ear. Kissing up and down your neck cooing and cuddling. As he drifted off into blissful sleep right next to your tortured form.

⋆◐⋆ Thinking of what happens when he's had his darling for a while. Does he coax her into the role of his perfect wife? Does she haphazardly stumble into it out of sheer boredom?

⋆◐⋆ Thinking of Yandere! Harvey Dent waking up cold and lonely. Fingers stretching to your side desperate to feel the softness of your flesh. Instead, he's met with the neatly made comforter and the painful absence of you. When he breaths -shakey ragged- there's vanilla under his breath, sugar wafting through the dichromatic apartment. His heart skips a beat, you really are the greatest.

'We should warn her to stay in bed until we wake up!'

'Then who the hell is going to make your breakfast moron? Huh? Didn't think that far ahead did-'

'Oh just shut up it's too early for your yapping.'

⋆◐⋆ "Harvey!" you chirp melodious lithe of your voice ringing ceremoniously to greet him. You're dolled up already in that purple dress he likes with the white heels Harv always picks. You run up to greet him and the click of your heels along his kitchen floor has him seeing stars. You leave lipstick prints on both his cheeks. Run your nails over his bare chest. You're so close, he can feel you're pretty heartbeat through your ribs.

⋆◐⋆ Thinking about making breakfast for Yandere! Harvey. Turning on the TV and talking to him all so sweetly, you've been meaning to try a new cake recipe and you're wondering what flavor he prefers cherry or coconut or both? And there's a new Zorro movie playing in theaters you're wondering if he can take you after work tomorrow? He watches eyes blown wide as you bite down on your hotcake, fork between your plump lips, as you tilt your head. "You don't like it do you," you ask and the brittle nature of your voice has his heart shattering. "I do" he assures, they both do. They're just so surprised you're acting this nice, this loving, this...

⋆◐⋆ Tears prick the corners of your eyes as you look at him. Have you done something wrong? Is he mad at you? "Are you having another dissociation episode?" you're quick to rush to his side. You sit on his lap and run your fingers through his hair. Kissing his soft and scarred lips. Holding his face firmly. "We're fine" Harv assures, voice polluted with trepidation. Unconvinced you break off tiny bits of his hotcake and gently tap the fork on his lip. You feed him so tenderly, basking in the way his pretty eyes never leave your face. As his fingers play with your dress, pinching playfully at your hips.

⋆◐⋆ Thinking about seeing Yandere! Harvey Dent off at the door. He's got a gang to run, a city to protect and destroy all in the same breath. You're sure one day you'll look out the window and see Gotham going up in flames only to be remade under your lover's careful hand. You wish him a good day, moaning softly as he kisses and bites your shoulder. Both hands entwining with your fingers. "Some day I'll take you with me, have you give the orders and watch as everyone jumps to obey."

⋆◐⋆ Thinking about Yandere! Harvey Dent in his office. He runs most of his operations from his two-toned building. He's closer to you this way. Keeping you locked up in the penthouse. Even when he's ordering his thugs around, planning the next heist or crisis or perfect crime he can't get you out of his head. He swears he can still hear the click of your heels from six stories up.

⋆◐⋆ Maybe it's cause he hasn't been happy in far too long, they both haven't. This eccentric euphoria bubbling inside their chest feels too foreign, painful even. Melconay replaced with something so warm and sweet. Something he never thought he would have.

⋆◐⋆ Thinking about surprising Yandere! Harvey Dent with lunch in his office. He's busy interrogating one of Falcone's thugs. Locations or gangwars you don't really care. You wince as Harv fires a bullet at the man's chest. Blood marring the walls and floor, you're careful to stirr clear. When the rage wears off he finally sees you, really sees you. Harvey is shocked and Two-Face is about to start yelling at you for leaving the apartment without permission. But you simply skip over the bloody body and hand him his lunch, kissing tenderly up his neck, pulling his body closer to yours. He's too starstruck to notice the dead man pulling out a gun. Precouopied with running his tongue along your teeth, and molding your bones to his touch. He never notices the dead thing writhing for life, for revenge...Until you've pulled out one of his shooters and shelled the man point blank. Beaming up at him with that eternally cheerful smile. Wrapping your arms around his neck once more, and inching closer to his lips...

⋆◐⋆ Thinking of Yandere! Harvey Dent waking up to the muffled sound of your sobs. And realizing it was all just a dream. You're curled up on the furthest end of the bed trying all so desperately to avoid him. He can faintly make out where you've thrown the new heels and the purple Dior dress he loved so much. Even after all this time you still haven't forgiven him for stealing you away. For locking you up and making you play into his little fantasies. Harvey rolls to his side trying to go back to bed, trying to tune out Harv's violent ramblings, trying to ignore the tear trickling down his cheek.

⋆◐⋆ He's happy, he's happy, he swears he's happy...

🎀: @fancyfeathers @yandere-writer-momo @testification @yuckcuy @realifezompire @devils-blackrose @dollyocaccount @uphighinthe-skies @d3athmaskd1v1n3 @callsigncrash

Thank you guys so much for reader ~💋

[webism]

★ sometimes, sukuna makes you ride his thigh instead of his lengthy fingers, or his sharp face or prodigious cock.

it's meant to be a punishment, a deprivation of what so often leaves you breathless and stupid, but you can't find fault in the muscled ridges of his thighs. maybe if your sharp-toothed lover was less active, less built, you'd struggle a bit more to find pleasure in his thigh.

you don't even know why you're being punished. it could be for your sharp tongue, or for touching yourself unpermitted, or for some other perceived sin. but as far as the space between you and ryomen stretches; he is the church and you are to kneel over his thick thigh and repent.

so repent you do. you rock your hips, grind down against his bare thigh as if seeking your own climax is apology enough for wronging your lover. if you wronged him, that is—sometimes sukuna punishes you unprovoked, the protests you give when you've really done nothing wrong get his dick hard. though you've cum more times you can count now, surely he can't punish you longer.

you can practically taste his cock it's so close, hard and throbbing and resting against his stomach just waiting to be doted on. you could reach out and grab it, and your fingers ache to feel the weight of his length against them, as does your tongue—but you know your ministries wouldn't go unpunished. and touching him when you're not permitted to doesn't reward you with the fun punishments like fucking yourself on his thigh; your ass would be sore for days.

"faster," his voice is steeled, painted nails digging into your hips. it hurts, how harshly he holds you, but it hurts in a searing way you'd miss if he were to let go. his touch is mean, you love it about him.

you oblige, rock your hips faster despite the sweat that pricks at your skin and the increasing work it takes for your lungs to provide you with enough oxygen to stay clear-headed. sukuna tsks, though, bares his teeth and forces you down harder against his solid thigh. it's a mess of your lust, glossy with your slick and you don't doubt he'll have you clean him up once you're too fucked out to think. perhaps with a cooling bath; perhaps with your tongue.

"you're a mess," he chides. "fucking filthy. stupid brat, so dumb and you're not even taking my cock. you couldn't."

harder, he presses your cunt against his thigh, pulls you to grind down on him. your desperation isn't lost on you, but sukuna's words prick at your stomach.

"i could. let me, please, i want—"

"you want?" he growls. "you don't want. you need my cock, brat, and i'm denying you a necessity."

you know he gets off on using you like this, playing with your threshold for pleasure. just how many orgasms can he rip out of you using his thigh alone? he's controlling your movements like you're the toy despite the lack of physical stimulation he gets from this. he's fucking you mindless and all he's doing is sitting nice and still for you.

when he manages another orgasm out of you, the slurred mewls of 'too much' falling of his deaf-by-choice ears, you realise your punishment isn't pleasure. it is the denial of himself: your newfound addiction, his reverent touch. he won't give you his cock, his tongue, his fingers or even the heel of his palm. all you get is his thigh, and you unravel from that alone. he finds it pathetic and all too erotic in the same breath.

is there really any denying you if he can draw pleasure from you using just the frame of his build?

thanks sutton for star hehe its so fun. i need to write more two-dick-sukuna writing him with one dick here felt wrong

kinktober tags: @medusamara5 @echodead @curiositykilledthecatx3 @hirainne

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[sundew199]

Mornings

a/n: I'm at work and going insane, send help

tags: reiner x f!reader, oral sex(f!recieving), fingering

I cannot stop thinking about Reiner eating you out under the covers, fucking burying his face in your pussy and making you shake and cry. And right after he wakes in the morning too.

He'll turn over and grind up against you and softly kiss up and down your neck, asking you if you slept good, while letting his hands grope and grab at your tits. You'd still be a little groggy from just waking up and barely notice him climbing over you and fitting himself down between your legs, kissing up your inner thigh and nipping with his teeth.

You'd whine when he'd playfully kiss your clit softly, flick the tip of his tongue over it once and proceeding to part your slick folds with his thumb. Reiner would start slow, work his way into eating you out, until fully pressing his mouth to your slit and his nose bumping and nudging your clit.

He'd groan approvingly as you tug on his hair, push his face into your needy pussy, satisfied with the eagerness on your end. He loves your cunt and loves eating you out, it's like a fucking pass time for him.

All you'd feel is his plush lips sucking and pulling at your flesh, slurping up the arousal leaking from between your legs and his eyes looking up at you so hungrily that you're afraid he's about to quite literally devour you. You're so light weight and not even in this reality by the time he moved to sucking on your clit, teasing your entrance with his middle finger, already cumming once and approaching another.

"One more, please, just one more doll." He'd speak into your flesh, so muffled as he can't let go to properly request. You'd be arched on the bed, heel of your feet digging into his shoulder blades under the covers with tears rolling down your cheeks. Reiner is fucking insatiable when it comes to your pussy.

"Reiner, please I don't know it I can-"

Sentence cut off by the force of your body reaching your peak and cumming in his mouth a second time, all of your muscles contracting and releasing from the tension letting loose, but still throbbing as he softens his sucks and settle for gently kissing the sensitive bud.

"Always so good for me." Now sitting up and pushing two fingers inside, all because he's an over achiever and wants you in this bed with him all day, limp and motionless from his sinful acts.

Two thick fingers flutter and pump out of your entrance, his tongue swirling in time on your clit and a smirk so evil curling into his lips. He loves you like this, craves it, and worships you when he gets you to this point.

Reiner is man of knowing what he wants, and this, this gets him harder than anything else. And when you finally cum for a third time, he's groaning and thinking about sinking his painfully hard cock right in and fucking you till you're leaking nothing but his cum.

[ceroseis]

⋆⁺₊ ༄ 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 . . . megumi fushiguro

nsfw ◞ minors dni ┊ ‧₊˚ word count : 800 cw ┊ ‧₊˚ gn!reader, college au, oral sex (m!receiving), praise, petnames (baby)

thinkin' hard abt being tsumiki's college roommate. feelin' oh-so guilty abt having a big fat crush on her little brother. as an upperclassman, you should be guiding him through his first semester of sophomore year, not blowing him in your shared bathroom while she sits on the couch, one deadbolt lock away.

megumi looks so pretty from your special place between his legs— pants shoved haphazardly down his thighs, ruddy cheeks and midnight black hair stuck to a sweaty forehead, lips bitten a beautiful cherry red in his attempt to quiet himself.

"shit-! baby, jus' like that," he hisses between his teeth, knuckles white from their iron grip on the countertop behind him.

your knees are beginning to ache, but you ignore the pins and needles in favor of doubling your efforts. as much as you'd love to take him to the hilt and watch his soul leave his body, you can't risk the noise. another time, you think. instead, your head bobs faster over his crotch, doe eyes blinking up at him as your tongue swirls around the tip.

your right hand clutches the outside of megumi's clothed calf, nails digging into black denim as the involuntary twitch of his hips threatens to cut off your air supply. he always gets like this right before he comes: his heels flex and his fingers find their way to your scalp and he'll try not to shout, but he never really succeeds and—

"ohhh my god, fuck! fuck, fuck, fuck—!"

you make sure to keep your eyes open for this part. his mouth drops open and his cheeks explode in an almost embarrassingly bright shade of red as he unloads in your mouth. that wild look in his eye is something you'll never tire of. he seems to be floating somewhere halfway between this reality and another. it never fails to make you smile.

your movements slow, but you don't pull off his cock, content to let his long, gentle fingers sweep the hair out of your face. his hand slides down to cup your jaw, thumb rubbing over the swell of your cheek. sweet, is what he is. how're you supposed to resist those flushed cheeks and whispered praises of good, so fucking good, baby, so good f'r me as he comes down from his high?

eventually, megumi's calloused palms come down to the sides of your neck, cradling your head as he guides your perfect mouth off of his softening cock.

his spend drips obscenely from your tongue, fat globs depositing themselves back onto his twitching length. a quiet giggle bubbles up from your throat at the stupefied look on his face. your hand slides all the way up his leg to wrap around the base of his dick. the other finds its way to his shaft, giving a few slow, sensual pumps, spreading his own mess over his length as it squeezes and squelches between your fingers.

you can't help but hold him over your face as you press not-so-innocent kisses to his spent balls, sucking on them one by one as your hand teases at his tip.

megumi's arm shoots out to the side to steady himself from the overstimulated buzz electrocuting the base of his skull, smacking his palm flat against the wall. he groans again, low and drawn out, and you've both fucking forgotten just where exactly you are and—

"'s everything alright, megumi?" tsumiki calls out, voice only a little muffled from the seemingly insignificant panel of wood separating you two from what would be an undoubtedly horrified look on her face.

megumi's eyes shoot open as he chokes on his own breath, mumbled curses spilling from his lips as you watch his system reboot, getting his brain back online. "y-yeah!" he replies, trying his best not to sound like he just ran a marathon. or got his dick sucked.

"you sure? i told you to stop eating random stuff in my fridge— those tuna wraps were old!"

you'd laugh out loud if it wouldn't give you away, so you settle for a teasing quirk of your brow. "bad, bad brother," you mouth, shaking your head in faux disapproval.

he curls his lip at you, peeved that you're part of this conversation at all. "'m fine! just knocked something ov-er!" he squeaks, voice cracking as you pop his tip back in your mouth.

the look he gives you is murderous, but you pay no mind to it as you suckle on his head, eyes fluttering shut, tonguing at the slit.

megumi's head falls back at the sight, his dick giving one last utterly pathetic twitch in the confines of your hot, wet mouth before the door swings open.

"you better not have broken anyth–"

horrified, indeed.

looks like you have something else to feel guilty about.

sorry, tsumiki.

@seiwas + dilly . . . thank u both for being so encouraging & so patient with me during all my writing slumps and breakdowns. i hope you enjoy. 🤍

[rueclfer]

not a lot, just forever // oneshot part one

a/n: keigo's was specifically inspired by this :'-) (im bawling)(the other's will be out sometime later) happy birthday keigo baby <3

keigo takami, touya todoroki, tomura shigaraki

keigo never stopped wincing at the wind chills. even with several layers hung over his shoulders and the thickest coat, nothing stopped his scars from burning against the coastal breeze blitzing past his figure.

today he feels that familiar burning in his stomach as if he's ready to hurl over and release its contents into the sand.

"god, it's really pouring." you mutter towards the waves crashing against the shore.

your grip tightens on the umbrella, making sure the wind doesn't take your only cover with it.

"the first rain of the season is always insane, ya know." keigo murmurs, eyes turning down to his feet, watching his heels dig into the wet sand.

"it's nice though." you softly smile, reaching up and brushing away the ocean spray from the chilled skin of his cheeks.

you two stop for a moment and take in the ambience- the rain bouncing off of your umbrella, the crying seagulls in the distance, and the waves violently folding into one another.

keigo never considered himself religious.

for more nights than not, he finds himself asking how he'd be able to to walk this earth again- if he'll amount to anything ever again. every day is hard. he lost a piece of himself. nothing feels right.

no amount of praying could save him from himself, but you did.

"it is." he returns the smile, raising his gaze to meet yours, making his stomach twist.

you wrap an arm around his waist, pulling him closer under your shared umbrella- barely big enough to shield the both of you.

"are you cold, though? it's chilly." you rub your hand up and down his back, gently running your palm over his scarred shoulder blades.

keigo remembered the first few days without his wings and how cold and haunting it was. uneasiness and vulnerability followed him everywhere, but he found solace and safety plopped right on top of you with your fingers tracing the curves of his back.

he lost everything, and there you were to keep him together.

"we can go back to the car soon, if you want. get home and snuggle?"

he doesn't answer. he takes your arms around from his back and holds your hand in his, running a thumb across your knuckle. keigo was shivering, but nothing was more uncomfortable than the dryness in his throat and the burning flame in his stomach.

you slightly cock your head, and take note of his cold clammy hands and fidgety feet tapping against the wet sand. "actually, let's start heading back, yeah? it's gonna get dark soon."

you start to step away before he pulls you back with a tighter grasp around your hand.

"wait. angel, i-um." he stammers, eyes suddenly going wide. "wait."

keigo never believed in a god. not until now when he lowered his knee to the ground, and whispered a prayer.

"marry me. please."

you turn around and find him kneeling right before you, tears brimming his eyes and raindrops pelting against him.

there's a desperate strain in his voice, a cloud of air escaping his lips with every word. it was you and forever, or nothing at all. keigo had lost everything, everyone, and himself over and over again, but you were his salvation.

he brings your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against your knuckle.

"please." he mutters once more against your cold skin, letting the heat of his exhale warm the back of your hand.

a beat passes. then two.

"i had a whole speech prepared, i swear, and i'm blanking right now because i'm so fucking nervous, but i love you. i love you and i am nothing without you."

you don't notice that your umbrella has fallen off to the side, letting the storm engulf you both.

"for the longest time, i wanted nothing more than to watch the world from above again, but i need you to know that i'd die to walk this earth with you. i want forever with you. i'd sacrifice the skies for that. please."

you fall against him, wrapping your arms around his neck, choking back sobs.

"god, you're so dramatic, kei" you cry into his neck.

he huffs out a hearty laugh, and his shoulders fall in relief as he melts into you.

"if i stuck to the script it would've been ten times more theatrical i'm sorry to disappoint." he mumbles in your hairline.

"yes. it's you and me. yes." you choke out. "let's have forever together."

you pull away from him, watching the beads of water trail down his nose bridge and fall into your lap.

"i love you. i love you, i love you, and i love you." you mutter against his lips, peppering kisses in between every breath. "forever."

-

keigo tag: @bitchyfestivalbouquet

mha tag: @lotuslovers @babylambdietcoke @0skullyard0

[captain-huggy-bear]

Just a thought...

Quinn is a partner who wants, needs, to be able to meet your needs. It feels like a personal failure to him if he cannot do this or if something outside of his control effects you negatively.

It's a massive weight he puts on himself, uncessarily because your state of being is not entirely dependent on him and his actions. You try to remind him that it's actually unhealthy to think he is in that much control of your entire wellbeing. So it's difficult because any slight issue he wants to fix and some things just can't be fixed by him. You're fighting with a family member? Maybe this has been an issue your entire life and he wants to fix it, hates how it upsets you, but all he can do is help you enforce boundaries. You have a bad mental health day? He feels like he could have done more, even as he's making sure you shower and brush your teeth.

It's both a lovely thing and a problem because on one hand he will make sure you are financially, physically, mentally and emotionally safe around him and as far as he possibly can whether that's him paying the rent and all the bills or him putting himself between you and the road when you're walking down the street. But, on the other hand when things aren't perfect, when your needs or wants aren't being completely met, through no fault of his, he takes that as a personal failing.

I can see him beating himself up whenever he misses something important because of a game, despite the fact that it's his job, despite the fact you signed up for this and were, not happy, but okay with the reality. I can see him being really torn between his own life and his relationship.

That being said I think there are particular important moments that he simply would refuse to go to games for/during. You're in labour? You've just had a baby? He's not going on the road trip or playing the game, he'll dig his heels in on that one, he's at least around for the first few days if not the first week. You're having a major surgery and need support? He's staying. He might miss that work do, that work event, that family dinner, but I think he'd really pick you over hockey when it comes to those massive moments where you need his support and where any normal guy would be present.

The level that Quinn gives himself over to hockey, is the level he gives to his relationship too. He gives his all until there's literally nothing left and even then he's still trying to crawl to the finish line. If he's in, he's all in.

[guilty-pleasures21]

Fic rec: frat!Miguel by @kissitbttr

The roommate

Note: fem!reader × roommate!Miguel

Part 1

Part 2

BONUS! Halloween story

Warnings: none. Just fluff and tension.

----------------------------------------------------------

Roommate!Miguel who opens the door to his off-campus uni accommodation with a confused look on his face. You explain that you'll be taking the extra room in his apartment because of an administrative mix-up and he moves aside to let you in.

Roommate!Miguel who is most definitely the best-looking guy you've ever seen in your whole life, but who's probably a f*ckboy because of course he has to know how good-looking he is.

Roommate!Miguel who's been single ever since he got out of a bad relationship a while back, but who can't ignore the way his knees go weak whenever you shoot him what has to be the sweetest smile he's ever seen in his life.

Roommate!Miguel who you quickly fall into an easy routine with, studying together in the afternoons, teaching each other how to cook in the evenings, struggling against his grip when he drags you to the gym every morning. "Can't have my roommate collapsing on me in the middle of finals," he always teases you as you dig your heels into the floor in protest.

Roommate!Miguel who finds his missing hoodie in your room, slung over the back of your chair over your backpack. "Princesa," he calls as he walks out of your room, damning evidence in hand, "what the hell are you doing with my hoodie?" You stroll over to him, not embarrassed in the slightest, and pluck the soft fabric out of his hand. "I wear it to the library! And lectures! It's just so warm, jellito!" He frowns at the ridiculous nickname, folding his arms across his chest, and you feel your heart swell at the sight of the exasperated look he always reserves for you.

Roommate!Miguel who acts like he's annoyed, but who's secretly delighted by the thought of all the people who must have seen you in his hoodie - all the people who probably think that you're his now and he's yours. He wonders if his scent has rubbed off on you, but thinks it would be too creepy to try to get a whiff of you. He sucks in a breath discreetly anyway.

Roommate!Miguel who you accidentally say "night, love you!" to while heading to your bedroom after your regular Friday night movie night. He freezes at the declaration, but you laugh it off, apologising and telling him it's a force of habit. Then, so softly you thought you might have imagined it, "night, love you too, princess. " You spin back around to shoot him a wide grin and he feels his heart threaten to burst out of his chest.

Roommate!Miguel who convinces you to go for the annual Halloween costume party at one of the frat houses some of his friends are in. "I'll be right there with you, princesa. We don't have to drink anything if you don't want to and we can always leave if you get too uncomfortable. But I know how much you love dressing up." You chew on your lip as you think about it, regretting showing him pictures of all the costumes your mum had sewed for you whenever there was a dress-up event at school. You finally agree, but only if he'll dress up as the Marc Antony to your Cleopatra.

Roommate!Miguel who swears his heart stops when he sees you in your costume: golden snake tiara perched atop your dark curls, almond-shaped eyes accentuated by your perfectly winged liner, curvy little body almost completely visible beneath the sheer white sheath that bunches around your chest and hips. His eyes drink you in as you approach him, his gaze trailing down your toned leg, tanned skin exposed by the slit that runs down from your waist. "Is it okay?" you ask, completely oblivious to how badly he wants to throw you onto the sofa and lick you up. "You can't see anything, can you?" You gesture to your ass and he swallows down the saliva pooling in his mouth as he shakes his head. You move closer to him and fix him with a conspiratorial look, your lips curled into a wide smile as you reveal that you're wearing a thong. His heart melts in his chest when you giggle at your own confession and all the blood rushes to his core as your point to your chest. "And something called 'nipple tape'?"

Roommate!Miguel who keeps you close to his side throughout the night, his fingers sliding along your waist and lower back, always hovering dangerously close to your ass. He looks so handsome in his costume, his chiselled features making him look like he stepped out of a historical movie.

Roommate!Miguel who sinks into the last empty space on one of the sofas then gestures for you to take a seat on his lap. You gulp nervously at the thought and your stomach flips when he raises an eyebrow at you. You perch on the tip of his knee, but he slides his arm beneath your legs and pulls them over both of his, his other arm guiding your hand to his shoulder.

Roommate!Miguel whose insides are on fire at the feeling of his sweet and gorgeous roommate settled on his lap for everyone to see. He keeps his gaze fixed on yours as his hands wander over your body, his fingers sneaking through the slit in your dress to stroke your bare thigh. "Miguel," you whine, the sound like music to his ears, "isn't this is a little inappropriate?" "More or less inappropriate than those two practically having sex on the couch?" he retorts, his eyes never leaving yours as he gestures to a couple vigorously making out across from you. You flinch, embarrassed by the sight, and Miguel groans at the feeling of your ass brushing against his groin.

Roommate!Miguel who took the time to get to know you: your likes, dislikes, favourite foods and the most minor of pet peeves. He'll open the windows every morning so you can get the sunlight when you awaken and you'll rush to the supermarket during finals to keep the fridge stocked with the pickles he likes to munch on while studying. You run your fingers through his soft chocolate waves as you gaze into his fiery copper eyes, your lips a breath apart, the air around you crackling with tension.

Roommate!Miguel whose kiss is just as sweet as he always is to you, his lush lips brushing against yours, the tangy taste of him so delicious on your tongue. You slide your hands along the hard planes of his chest as you kiss him, your fingers sliding up the back of his neck and into his hair. You'd dream of this moment every time you'd see the sweat glistening on his skin after a workout or catch his dark hair curling around his ears after a shower, but none of your fantasies could have ever compared to the real thing.

Continued

[heartfullofleeches]

OKG OMG CATMAN DILF PRACTICING HIS SIGNATURE OVER AND OVER FOR GOLDENRETRIEVER READER ASKIN FOR AN AUTOGRAPH- OMGOMG

Yan Ex-Idol Catman + Fan Golden Retriever Hybrid Reader

-

He's done it a million times before. This should be easy-

"Maybe it's time for me to move again."

Moving cost outweigh the humiliation. He can always find another house near a park or school. One so close to either is hard to find around these parts, but he'll manage. The neighbors, on the other hand... It'd be hard to find anyone like that sweet mutt next door.

"Shit...." The feline scratches behind his ears - molars nawing at the plastic heart glued to the pen grasped in his fist. Torn scraps of notebook paper flutter to the carpeted floor around him as he props his arms up on the table - written signatures of differing scale and quality penned on each. If he could rewind the clock a decade or so - and used a pen with better ink, he'd have done it right the first time. All he had at he desk where the glittery pens his daughter left behind during her last visit. The kind that only seemed to work every other stroke. Had he really sunk so low to blame the inability to write his own name on a cheap pen? Why was he even doing this anyway? The day he quit, he swore he'd live his life for his fans no longer. Why go through all this effort now?

"Makariy!!!"

Fingernails claw at his front door. Makariy closes the notebook, tucking it beneath the couch cushions as he climbs up into the furniture. He pauses briefly to check his shirt for stains before speaking.

"It's open."

A gust of wind scatters more pages across the living room floor as the door is ripped out. While he may have hide the book, the physical evidence was still present. He brushes a few of the notes beneath the couch as you enter - trotting up to the coffee table where you drop a fatter stack of paper.

"I brought your mail, made you some lunch, and.... Are those?....."

Kneeling, you gather up some of the pages off the floor. The accelerating wag of your tail creates a small vacuum to which the remainder are sucked into. You snatch them up as well - bouncing on your heels from all the excitement coursing through your veins.

"Are these the signatures I asked you for?" Your voice comes out in quick exhalations - barely sparing a breath between each word. "I mean I only asked you for one, but I can have these too right?! Wait, are they for other people? I'm sorry for being greedy if they are, I just didn't think you'd actually do this for me! Thank you, thank you, thank you- Sir!

Makariy jumps up out of his seat as you bow at his feet. He pulls you off your knees, dragging you up onto the couch as he hears you digging underneath for the other scraps s he hid. "Hey, hey- What did I tell you about that Sir, shit. I'm just your neighbor, got it?

"I know, Si- Makariy. It's just not everyday you mean the lead singer for your favorite idol group. Let alone have him as your neighbor. I hope the food I brought will make up for my outburst."

You have to be conscious of it by now. Even you can't be this oblivious. If you continue to look at him with those eyes there's no way he'll be able to get out of this neighborhood anytime in the near future. There's no telling when the wonder in them will fade once you realize he's nothing like he was back then... He's not sure if his heart can take it.

"You're fine. Just stay for once instead of running off when I start eating. Why do you do that anyway?"

"Just trying to respect your privacy, Sir! Ack- I did it again, and didn't I....."

Oh well... Better to enjoy things while they last.