#i had to take matters into my own damn hands

[bearforcecaptions]

The spell worked, sort of, but not how I wanted. I did have the body of my dreams – I was Garrett now, but I didn’t realize the catch was that I wouldn’t be able to control what I’m doing unless I’m totally alone. And Garrett, or, me, I guess – I’m nearly never alone! The frat house pretty much always has someone in it, and I’m super popular, too. I thought being Garrett would be fun and easy, but stuck like this, it’s torture!

I figured out the ritual from this old book I found at that occult shop downtown, thinking it would be a quick way out of my boring life and into something… well, something way more interesting. Garrett had it all, or so I thought. Girls loved him, he was in the best shape, and everyone wanted to be his friend. But nobody told me about this weird restriction, or maybe I just didn’t read that part carefully enough. I guess the idea was I’d “experience” Garrett’s life, but it’s like watching a movie, except I’m the star and I can only move on my own terms when no one else is around.

And god, my roommate, he’s actually so stupid. When I can’t control my actions, we bro out all the time, but he’s so vapid. I guess I’m not much better, but it’s actually infuriating. You’d think we could have a conversation that’s not about girls, parties, sports, or video games. But no, every time he starts talking, it’s like Garrett’s body just falls right into the rhythm of it, responding automatically. I tried fighting it at first, but it’s like this autopilot takes over, and I’m just... stuck.

I’ve been scouring the room whenever I get a chance to control things, like right now, looking for any sign or clue on how to undo this. There has to be something I missed. I rummaged through his messy closet, which is packed with clothes, gym stuff, and random junk, none of it useful. The guy keeps his stuff in total chaos, and I feel weirdly exposed, like I’m actually pawing through my own things.

Shit, no, is that the door jangling? I thought I would have a couple of hours to try and figure out how to fix this. Who the hell knows when I’ll get another chan-

Fuuck, bro. Why’s my roomie home early? Thought he went to his ‘rents for the weekend. I was just about to jerk one out too. Ah well, maybe he’ll be down for some Call of Duty or something. I could use a beer.

“Yo, dude, what’s up? You back already?” I say, grinning like an idiot as I lean against the door frame, flexing a bit without even realizing it. Dude probably thinks I’m just chillin’, but nah, I’m feelin' like a boss.

He laughs, dropping his bag by the door and shrugging. “Yeah, man, got bored at home. Figured I’d head back early. Parents were driving me nuts.”

“Oh, for sure, dude,” I nod, grabbing a can of beer from the mini-fridge by my bed. “Parents, am I right? They just don’t get it, bro.” I crack it open, chugging half of it in one go, feeling the cool rush. Damn, that’s good.

He slaps my shoulder, laughing. “Dude, I swear, it’s like every time I go back, it’s the same speech about responsibility and blah blah blah. Like, whatever, right?”

“Oh, totally, man,” I laugh, shrugging it off. “Why they gotta be like that, y’know? We’re just out here living, they don’t get it.” I toss him a beer, feeling that chill vibe kickin’ in, like nothing in the world matters but just hanging with my bro. This is what it’s all about – no worries, no drama, just cold beers and good times.

“Bro, I’m feelin’ a COD sesh,” I say, grabbing the controller off the couch. “You down?”

He grins. “Hell yeah, let’s wreck some noobs.”

We crash down on the couch, controllers in hand, beers in easy reach, and it’s like all the worries in the world just melt away. I’m trash-talkin’, throwin’ down taunts, and we’re both laughing so hard my sides hurt. I don’t even remember the last time I felt this alive.

“You’re so bad, dude,” I laugh, jabbing him in the ribs as I get another kill. “How are you still this bad?”

“Shut up, bro!” he shoves me back, laughing too, and I’m grinning like an idiot.

Fuck, life is good, I think, as I take a gulp of my beer. I got my bros, I got my beer, and I got my games. What more does a dude need? Life’s good.

[jambalaya-enthusiast]

Just had another Jimmy thought...

If Curly had a daughter he would definitely introduce Jimmy as an uncle of sorts... Cutting it short once shes of age Uncle Jimmy about to get a whole lot creepier.

First he pulls you on his lap while He and your dad Curly are watching football or something, and you feel something but you dont say anything... but your dad needed to run to the store to grab some more beer. -Cupcake anon

Your own age.

Uncle! Jimmy x Curly's Daughter! Reader.

warnings: age gap(reader is an adult),toxic relationship themes, jimmy is a major creep, non-consensual touching. curly is an oblivious single father.

a/n; cupcake anon, you're a fucking genius. love you for sharing this prompt with me,hope I was able to do it justice!

It wasn't fun being a well respected captain's daughter. Especially after your mom left, your dad would leave for shipments for months on end,and you had to spend a good chunk of your childhood with nannies rather than your parents.

But that was when he came along,Jimmy... Or Jim,as your dad would call him. He was your dad's closest friend since childhood,and now he was gonna be... Living with the two of you? Your dad said that it was due to the shortage of leases on the market currently,but you know damn well it was because that jimmy person was just a broke guy.

"hey,so you're the daughter I keep hearing my friend talk about,huh?".

"uh yeah,my name is y/n".

"y/n huh? well that's a pretty name for a pretty little girl".

you did think it was strange as to how,Jimmy... or well,uncle jimmy as your dad advised you to call him, was so Frank and open minded with you,but you realised that's just how men in his situation were. Open-minded,and careless.

Uncle jimmy... was an interesting man to say the least,you hadn't really had the luck of having any fun 'relatives' for that matter so you thought this was the best as it was gonna get. Jimmy would offer you cigarettes. Something that your father had clearly mentioned in front of him was off limits for you.

"C'mon aren't you a big girl now? some rules are meant to be broken y'know?

"but dad would kill me if he ever found out..."

"it's alright,it will be our little secret".

All in all you started warming up to him,you thought that hey,this guy is already down on his luck,and he's also so fun to be around! wouldn't hurt to be friendly with him.

It didn't matter how unnecessarily long his hugs were,or how suffocating they were. he would always hug you so tight that you had to physically wriggle your way out of his grasp. on some occasions you could've sworn you heard him say something under his breath.

It didn't matter how he would stare at you for long periods of time if the two of you were in the same room,you thought maybe it's just a middle aged man thing

It didn't matter how during road trips,he would sit in the backseat beside you instead of sitting beside his best friend in the front. How somehow his hands would always find it's way to be on your thigh.

He was a fun guy after all! He lets you drink,smoke,and sneak out. Do all the things which your dad would have crucified you for.

Seeing both of you so close would have your dad asking you—

"wow you sure are having fun with uncle jimmy,huh? you guys seem to be close".

"yeah he's so cool! it's super fun to be around him".

"fun huh? Well im hoping it's a good kind of fun,honey".

But curly shouldn't be worried! His best friend was just taking care of his daughter... Right? He wouldn't do anything,wrong... Right? That much faith curly should have in his best friend... Should he not?

Your dad and uncle had a habit of watching football games during weekend nights,and you decided to join them one such night.

While watching the game,jimmy suddenly turned to you,and said.

'oi y/n, c'mere and sit" as he motioned towards his lap,he turned towards curly and said. "For old times sake,eh? You remember how I used to carry ya around? I'm feelin nostalgic".

Curly was already feeling tipsy from the 3rd pint of beer he was chugging,so he just laughter and said "haha,you guys are so adorable!".

Albeit,a strange request,you decided to do as your uncle asked anyway,and you went to him and plopped on his lap. No matter his lanky figure,he was still strong enough to carry your weight. So he had no problem in adjusting himself to have you sir on his lap while still getting a comfortable view of the ongoing game.

everybody was focusing on the game,but you,your focus was on something else entirely,all the while you were sitting on his lap, you could feel Jimmy's hot breath on your shoulder,how his left hand was rested at your side,firmly placing a grip, you could feel his heart beating, and you don't know what got over you,but you decided to do something risky, somthing vulgar which you hadn't even properly processed in your mind.

You grinded against him just a little,and that was enough to get his heart beating 10 times faster,you could practically feel his breath hitch,and him letting out the quietest groan. And you felt something hard between you legs,you realised that you had just gotten him rock hard. you felt accomplished for some reason. But that's when your dad decided to drop off the bomb.

"wait,fuck we're out of beer,jimmy look after y/n while I make a quick trip to the store to get few more".

"you got it boss".

You knew that it was wraps the moment your dad walked out the front door and closed it behind him. You blinked and suddenly you were pinned down onto the sofa, your uncle had both your hands pressed firmly above your head,he stared at you like a wild animal on the prowl, hunting its prey.

"damn,I didn't know that you were so dirty, grinding against me like that,you know how 'fuckin hard it was for me to keep from moaning?,you deserve to get punished for it don't you think?".

• you intently stared him,not knowing what to do,excited yet scared of what he was going to do next.

And then without a warning,he smashed his lips against yours,into a rough, messy, hungry kiss. he tasted like liquor with a hint of cigarettes,the cheap brand which he smokes all the time. His tongue was wildly exploring every inch of your mouth, he felt like an animal in heat.

then in between the kiss he said, "you don't know how long I've been wanting to do this,kid".

you already knew that this was going to be quick as your dad would be back from the store in no time,but you also knew,that this was the beginning of something,very long, something very vulgar. and even though it might be wrong,you felt eager,you felt excited. you were looking forward to whatever was going to happen next.

[affableramen]

Wriothesley x fem!reader fic

request domestic angst+comfort

Roommate

Pt.1

“Wonderful. Our kettle is broken”, Wriothesley spread out his hands in a mild disappointment. “This is all your doing, you constantly crushed it into the base. As if you don’t know how fragile it is.”

You find yourself incredibly angered by his bold statements. You and your roommate had quite the opposite personalities and would often end up in a heated bicker. You two also had incredibly different schedules which would lead to obviously clashing routines. He woul always do his paperwork at night when you’d try to get a sleep. However Wriothesley was not the worst choice among the other candidates so sometimes you would turn a blind eye on the misunderstandings between you two. But not today.

“What do you mean this is my doing? You left the kettle on.”

“Yeah? I simply did not unplug it. I’m not some paranoid type of idiot.”

“You left the kettle on and it’s broken now. I told you to always unplug it! I requested this of you every single time!”

The arrogance in Wriothesley’s tone is almost palpable, and he simply turned around facing away from you. The movements of his body were artlessly languid, and you could swear you sensed coffee from his hair as he faced away from you. Perhaps the scent was coming from the nape of his head—you thought. Otherwise, it was still intoxicating to you, and even being as irritated and maddened as you are now, you could not deny that you found his scent tolerable if not likeable. Any other candidate to being your roommate could have been a nasty and bad-mannered student or some sort of criminal, but this man definitely stood proud before them all.

“Listen—I really have no time for this. I have more important things to do.”

“More important things to do!”

“Yeah? I’m engrossed in my work, I’m making money, okay?” He was speaking to you as if you were a complete idiot. “See you can’t even come up with a response because you know I’m right.”

“Fine. Whatever. I have enough money to buy a new teapot. Don’t even bother giving me money.”

Wriothesley raised his hand and waved to you not even looking back a second. 

“I take it you’re going to only drink takeaway tea from now on”, you said but he could be hardly bothered to listen to you.

When the two of you were at a respectable distance, his shoulders dropped and he let out an exhausted sigh. He occupied his desk and started working on his usual papers as the duke of Meropide’s ‘homework’.

It’s not that he was not rich, but he preferred saving money thus he rented this house with you. The house itself consisted of two floors (ground floor and first floor). It was not big, but very pleasant to be in. It was not exactly a countryside but not a city centre either. The area was quite tranquil and calm there, and your neighbours did little to disturb you, which was good both for your studies and Wriothesley’s work. But the kettle usage was sincerely a sensitive topic. You only had one in the whole house since Wriothesley did not see any sense in buying his own: you mostly drink water, gallons of it actually, using the boiled water only for noddles, while Wrio would always abuse the poor kettle with his 10 tea mugs a day. But that all did not matter now since the kettle was stupidly broken. It was a cheap one, and something in between its micro wires was faulty which would cause the kettle to turn itself on without the button being pressed on by someone. It was unfortunate, really, because Wriothesley did not bother to unplug the kettle and thought the action completely paranoid. You thought him as a person who doesn't give a single damn about others—well now it seems he doesn't give a damn even if this house ends up in flames.

“Thankfully it just got broken without any flames around”, you sighed exhaustedly, too.

Why wouldn't he listen to your little requests?

That day seemed to be designed for failures, as later in the evening the power of the whole street went down. That day the power was cut off and your room had grown exceedingly cold. 

“This is getting ridiculous. How am I supposed to work like this?”

But unlike Wriothesley who had a fur coat, you were only wrapped into your fuzzy blanket which did, frankly speaking, a bare minimum to save you from the cold.

“How frustrating, I cannot work like this”, he massaged the bridge of his nose. 

Meanwhile you were freezing until your patience finally exploded and you got up from the bed to get a robe for your nightwear. It might have been that Wriothesley heard you rummaging through the closet as he inquired with no visible interest:

“Cold, are you?”

“Yes.”

“You’re a little too sensitive to cold, don't you think? Sometimes I wonder if you were a feline in your previous life.”

“Ha-ha”, you utter with a sleepy and grumpy face before pulling the robe and slipping back to the bed. A while after the cold becomes unbearable for you and unacceptable for someone else.

Wriothesley comes from behind, noticing that you never stop shivering. He approached from behind, standing staight a few steps from your bed and cleared his throat to grab your attention.

“You don’t look very comfortable, you know? Looks like you’re still shivering.”

“Yeah?” You parody his manner of speech. “What do you suggest?”

You secretly knew what this was leading to but did not want to suspect it just yet.

“I can think of a few ways. But sharing the body’s heat would top them all.”

You were speechless for the first few seconds before you spat out a response both with horrified expression and loud voice:

“Are you serious?” 

For Wriothesley it didn't seem to be a nasty idea at all. He shrugged, though his gaze ran around the room, trying to suppress the sudden embarrassment he did not once consider appearing. A grown man.

“It’s not like we didn't share the bed before, so I don't see why not-”

“Hello? We are in an argument”, you cut him off. “So there is a reason to avoid close contact now.”

He groaned, because you would put your emotions higher than the rational thought at the moment when you both damn needed the latter.

“What?! Don't be so stubborn. I’m cold too, you know.”

“Oh, are you? I thought you’re invincible.”

“Listen… I can go to my bed but this isn't gonna work, I’m sure you understand. You’re shivering—I am shivering, too. Now, please, move.”

You made a ‘tsk’ with your tongue upon hearing Wriothesley’s convincing proposal. Making a space for him, you share your fuzzy blanket witht he man who smells like tobacco and coffee, though at this time there is a thin layer of sweat added to it, as a natural result of the day coming to an end and his… well, hard work.

“I thought you weren’t going to sleep tonight. You were engaged with your extra hours.”

“Yeah, overtime duties, but at home. Annoying shit”, for the next moment his voice takes a softer tone, indicating his tiredness. “Changed my mind.”

Wriothesley subtly pulls the blanket so that it covers the both of your bodies, and you can feel a slight shift in his body as if he were trying to press flush to you. The beating of his heart was noticed, and to the rhythm of it you found yourself falling asleep with unexpected ease. Wriothesley’s arrogant exterior melted away too as he wrapped his arms around your waist but never going bolder and lower.

Maybe the next morning you two could discuss the kettle issue again and come to a diplomatic decision without unnecessary hostility?

[azuritethehermit]

SKizz and Impulse bein a married Couple and also dads?? Towards the younger hermits?? Pretty please <3

Thank you for the ask!! I think this is so wonderfully cute. Skizz and Impulse are not only our dads but also the dads to some of the other hermits. I'd say maybe Gem and Joel. And just a general father figure to the others.

(Writing about the personas and just being silly, not the real people)

Skizz and Impulse, as sickeningly cute as it is, were still annoying about being in love with each other after all these years. They had been married for 10 years now, and they have two lovely adopted children.

It had always sort of upset the two men when they remembered that Gem and Joel weren't their biological kids but it didn't really matter to the kiddos, they just loved their dad's, and that their dad's loved them.

"Daaaddddd," Gem whined out walking into the living room of their house.

"Yes?" Both Skizz and Impulse responded, they laughed lightly at the mix up.

"Joel's being mean." She crossed her arms as Joel followed suite into the room.

He huffed, "its not my fault, she was being a bitch."

"Hey," Impulse said gently, "don't call your sister the B- word, what happened?"

They both started to talk and yell over each other. "The point is, she stole it." Joel finally finished.

THAT'S NOT TRUE!" Gem was screeching in her highest pitch, "HE TOOK MY, AMETHYST."

"What do either of you need with amethyst?" Skizz spoke up.

"Pearl gave it to me." Gem breathed, it made sense now.

"Joel, you have to give it back." Impulse still was soft.

Joel rolled his eyes, "I didn't take it."

"Don't you roll your eyes at your father, young man." Skizz almost laughed at how cliché he sounded.

"I didn't take it, I borrowed it for something I was making." Joel sighed, quietly, "I was going to give it back, but she barged into my room." He pointed his eyes at her.

"Right, that's fine, but you can't take things without asking. You should know this." Impulse smiled at him. "Just apologize and don't take things anymore."

Joel sighed once again, "Fine, sorry for taking your crystals," He breathed out, "it probably won't happen again."

Gem smiled because she had won this time, "Sure thing." She patted him on the shoulder and walked off to her room as happy as could be. Joel then followed in pursuit of his own room, sauntering off.

"Do you think I need to be harder on them?" Impulse turned to his husband.

Skizz gave him a confused look, "Why do you think that?"

"Well, I don't know, maybe we're just setting them up for failure. We have the same conversations constantly." He said the words a little sad.

Skizz shook his head and got up, going to sit next to the solemn man. "That's just the way it is being parents. Kids are strange like that." He pressed a kiss to the others' forehead. He held his hands inside his and leaned his head to rest against Impulses, shoulder comforting him in silence before speaking up once again. "I'd say we're damn good parents."

Impulse laughed at this, laying his head on top of Skizzs' "Yeah, we are," He sighed, smiling. He wrapped his arms around Skizz in a warm embrace. They were now cuddling on the couch in a strange position. Things like this often happened. They were good at keeping each other grounded. "I love you" Impulse yawned, pulling Skizz closer.

"I love you too." He smiled, closing his eyes. This was likely to turn into their daily nap, just as it usually did. As they fell asleep, they remembered how content they were and how domestic of scene this was.

[helluvaoutlaw]

Striker rubbed the back of his neck as Coronis hurried away, her curtsy and flustered departure leaving him with a crooked smirk. He stood there for a moment, watching her get into the cab, before glancing down at the envelope.

"Well, damn..."

He muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

Sliding the letter further into his jacket, he turned back toward the diner and made his way inside.

He wasn’t ready to head back to Wrath just yet, and he figured a fresh cup of coffee might pair well with whatever Coronis had put into writing. Settling into a corner booth this time, he ordered another drink, letting the tension of the night unwind just a little.

Once the coffee arrived, he pulled the letter out and unfolded it carefully, smoothing the wrinkles before he started reading:

Dear Striker,

I understand that this may be a normal occurrence for you, given you bring so much joy and rapture to the people you sing for. I have appreciated your talent and kindness since you first aided me that night I came to Sugar Buzzed for the first time.

I am sorry. I like you very much. I understand it is very impractical, as you have better options. But I admire you a great deal. I think I will admire you for as long as you live.

If you are open to enjoying dinner sometime, I would be happy to take you. If not, please disregard this letter. My feelings will not change, but I will not force yours in anyway. I like you. I like you very much.

Sincerely,

Coronis

Striker leaned back in the booth, the letter resting on the table in front of him. He’d read it twice now, and each time left him feeling more unsettled than the last.

He liked Coronis.

Obviously, he did.

She was different from anyone he’d ever met—soft-spoken but strong in her own way, and she made him feel...at ease. That alone was rare.

But this? This was a declaration of love.

His fingers ran over the edge of the letter as he sighed, a mixture of guilt and frustration stirring in his chest. She didn’t know what she was asking for.

She was a Goetia, part of a world he’d spent his whole life hating and fighting against. He wasn’t blind to the irony of how things had turned out, but that didn’t make it any easier.

And him? He was a hitman. A killer. His life was full of danger and chaos, and there was no space in it for someone like her. Not without dragging her into the muck with him.

He stared at the letter, his jaw tightening.

Hers was just a crush—it had to be. It would pass.

Sure, it’d hurt her for a while, but she’d move on eventually. She’d find someone else, someone who could love her the way she deserved, who could give her the kind of life he couldn’t.

Still, the thought of hurting her, of pushing her away...it made his chest ache.

Striker rubbed a hand over his face, torn between the selfish pull to keep her close and the bitter reality of what his life meant.

He didn’t know what to do.

For now, he folded the letter carefully and tucked it back into his jacket. He’d figure it out later—he had to.

But no matter what he decided, it wasn’t going to be easy.

@helluvaoutlaw

Since becoming a regular at Sugar Buzzed, Coronis had a secret to keep.

No one else would find it a secret worth keeping. People had what she was hiding all the time, and out in the open. Many more than one! It was had by the young and old, men and women, and none knew the importance of keeping it to oneself.

Coronis did. She had a crush.

There was only one person who she came to see at Sugar Buzzed. The staff knew her faces and were kind and polite, and the service therefore was reliably good. The drinks too. But one person had made her a regular, and thus occupied the soft spot in her heart with all his deeds thus far.

Their reoccurring headliner, Striker.

He was playing again tonight. Many nights would pass before, where Coronis would congratulate him on a job well done, politely ask how his week had gone, and wish him a better week to follow. Pure manners. And if the other patrons flirted with him, sending him flowers-

.....

.......well she tried not to look.

But this time was different. A lot of liquid courage had gone into writing it, and she was still downing more of it just to give herself strength to give it to him when his set was over. He reliably came to greet her each time his song set was over.

And if she didn't have a heart attack in the middle....she would have a love letter for him.

......

.....What? There was no way she could ask him out to his face.

Coronis sat, in her corner of the bar. She was three drinks in, strong stuff, whole grade Beelzjuice. The letter was in her best stationary, as honest and artful as possible. And she waited.

[atropasluvr]

texts (nsfw)

Kenji Sato x black! reader 

this is really short and rushed I've never written fanfic yall 🙁

warnings/notes: black!reader, reader is on the thicker side 🤭 w/a vagina, unprotected piv (wrap it before u tap it yall), pet names (baby, honey), fluffy ish ending, doggystyle, reader has long hair (or well long enough to pull), established relationship, probably ooc kenji, squirting 

synopsis: kenjis at practice.. but you’re needy. soooo... you text him🤭.

I listened to Blow by Beyoncé for peak freakiness to write this y'all. 

——————-

Today was an extremely long day. An extremely long, boring day. Kenji had left before you even woke up, off to practice as usual. You lounged around the house for hours, in nothing but panties and one of his jerseys. 

Laid up on the bed, you looked over at the tall mirror a few feet away. The same one Kenji *loved* to fuck you in front of. A smirk painted on your features as an idea popped into your head. Sitting up, you sent Kenji a text.

you: Kenjiii 

after a few minutes, you got a reply. 

jiji 🩶:hey baby, what’s up? 

you: hii , I just wanted to talk to you. I miss you 

jiji 🩶:I’m on a short break, I can chat for a bit. what’s up?

you: nothinnn. I got something for you tho

jiji🩶: what is it? 

*sent 1 attachment.*

A mirror pic, with you lying on the bed. Ass up. Your phone just barely covering your face. His jersey hung loosely on your chest.

(here’s a ref pic)

After about 30 seconds of being on read, you got a response.

jiji🩶: I’ll be home in 20

You hearted his message, before turning your phone off. You were in for it now. You lay on the bed, patiently waiting for him to arrive. 

The 20 minutes seemed to pass quickly. You could hear the door slam from downstairs, and rapid footsteps approaching the bedroom door. Kenji quickly entered, and your gaze quickly traveled down to the obvious tent in his pants. 

“The hell is wrong with you?” He scoffed, quickly approaching the bed. You were sat in the middle of the bed, watching him with a small smirk. You feigned innocence, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about-“

“Sending me that shit, mid-practice!“ He grabbed your leg, pulling you closer to him. You let out a soft yelp as he forced your legs open. “So damn aggravating..” He muttered, running his finger along your clothed folds.

You bit your lip, squirming in his grasp. He looked up at you with low eyes, flipping you onto your stomach. You arched your back, feeling him press against you. 

“K-Ken..” 

“Shh.” *He whispered, slipping your panties to the side. You whimpered as he slid along your folds, his tip nudging your aching clit. 

“Mmh.. fuck..” You whined, squeezing your eyes shut. 

One of Kenji’s hands moved up to hold your hip tightly, the other lining his cock up with your wet folds. He slid in, eliciting a moan from both of you. 

He quickly sped up, pounding into your poor little cunt. Your hands dug into the sheets as you moaned, cunt gushing around his cock. The pain of him stretching you out quickly turned to pleasure.

“Fuck.. fuck yes.. mmf” He groaned, fingers digging into your hips. The sound of your soaking pussy fills the room.

“Fuck.. such a tight little pussy..” He breathed out. Quickly adjusting his angle, he fucked you deeper, making you gasp and moan his name. 

“O-oh.. Kenji…” 

He gripped your hair, pulling your head up to look at him. Your pupils are blown wide, tears threatening to fall. Kenji bit his lip, your fucked out state making heat pool in his stomach. He leaned over, pulling you into a sloppy kiss. Your tongues rubbing against each other. 

“Fuck..” You whispered, lips swollen and glossy with spit as he pulled away. Kenji watched you, soft moans slipping as he felt you clench around him. That familiar tensing up of your body told him you were close. 

“C-c'mon baby. Cum for me.” *He whispered, groaning as his tip brushed against your cervix.

“K-Kenji.. o-oh my god.. just like that baby..” You moaned out, legs trembling as you neared your release. Kenji’s hands moved to spread your ass apart, watching himself slide in and out of you with ease. A creamy ring around the base of his cock. 

“Yeah, baby? You like it like that?” He furrowed his brows, groaning as he neared his own release. “Cum with me baby… make a mess all over my cock..” He muttered, thrusting as fast as he could. 

“Oh my god. Kenji..im…fuckkkk-“ You whined, your mouth agape as you came, thighs shaking. “Mmmmf..” You moaned, your arousal dripping down your thighs. 

Kenji was losing his shit. You felt so good, so warm, so tight. With a loud groan, he came. Warm sticky cum coating your spongy walls. He gritted his teeth, slowing his thrusts. “D-damn..” Kenji sighed, slowly pulling himself out, making you whimper at the emptiness. 

He bent down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. Letting you calm down from your orgasm.Heavy breaths coming from both of you. He cleaned you two up, cuddling up with you after. You laid on his chest, a leg draped over him. He gave you soft kisses as he massaged the fresh bruises on your hip. 

Yeah. You won’t be walking for a bit. 

[gender-euphowrya]

googles what kills houseplants not so i know what to avoid but so i can commit premeditated botanical murder

[beaversatemygrandma]

There’s one thing that cannot get out of my head no matter what, and no matter how much i hate the person who said it.

“Cheers Queers” Like. That became adopted by my friend group at that time when drinking. It slapped. It was like a magic spell for a good night with queer subtext throughout. And by god, i will use it again.

[trcvelers-chcsen]

Their friend's rebuff of their apology stung. They knew in their mind that against all odds, the Hunter had succeeded in preventing things from getting any worse, but in their heart, they couldn't help but feel a sense of responsibility for any trouble coming from their home system.

It was a selfish sense, of course. One person, paracausal godslayer or no, couldn't control the actions of others. But... maybe, they could still make up for those actions.

"...Alright," they bluffed. The exo still had every intention of trying to help rebuild the arachnid's stock if they could help it. If not as recompense, then as a friend. "But I do in the very least, believe I owe you some answers."

They followed after their friend, cloak fluttering in the warm breeze behind them. Apollo couldn't meet Bibi's gaze, but they did follow it back toward Set... Fae had saved Bibi's life. A gesture the Gunslinger couldn't be any more grateful for. Fae certainly had a habit of that, after all...

Their chest hurt.

"It may take a while. I'll probably have to start with a cliffnotes version of my home system's history, from the Golden Age onward, and get a bit into my own personal history and exploits. But I'll get there."

Not that their offer of context wasn't simply a means of putting off having to discuss the Endless Night, but they would honestly rather discuss literally anything else, even Ghaul. At least Ghaul was a problem they were able to solve with bullets...

Set, meanwhile, could feel faer heart being squeezed in faer chest. It hurt. It hurt so badly that fae could just rip it out. But this wasn't the time for an angst-fueled suicide, as meaningless as the gesture would be. Next to faer was the hired hand fae had caused absolutely way too much trouble for, and drawn into way too personal of conflicts.

Not that the Stormcaller had any way of knowing faer greatest love and worst fucking nightmare was on this particular planet, damn the Arachs' eyes. And what were the chances that they and their little friend would be the ones to be most likely to have the resources Dead Orbit needed?

Fae figured that didn't matter much to Kallex though, and Set couldn't blame him.

"This... turned sour really quickly," Set conceded to the chimera, unable to meet his gaze. "I didn't expect my past to come back and fuck things up, and you shouldn't have been involved in a squabble like that at all, and I apologize for that."

Fae opened a screen to faer vault once more, making a mental note of the weapons fae had that could be of use to him, and those he and fae both could potentially sell for exorbitant amounts of this planet's currency. Especially as the Warlock felt fae were going to be here awhile...

"I'll tell you what. I'll knock the list down to those you have clear connections to get ahold of. I'll also increase my payment. I've got a rather packed arsenal, and I'm sure you could make some kind of use for some of these."

Fae'd compile a list later for the chimera, so he could decide what he wanted for himself, and what he could sell. Dead Orbit had a few gunsmiths on their fleet too, so that was a source of powerful weapons fae could exploit to keep faerself afloat.

For a moment there.. they sincerely weren't sure what was going to happen.

Bibi knew they wouldn't be in any state to assist if a fight were to break out again, nor really in a state to get themselves out of here either.

More than a bit shaken.. the events of it all, leading up to the sight of rusted metal piercing through the human's chest replays in their mind on loop.

Something rocking them to their core quite like that hasn't happened since....

A while.

They aren't sure what to say. If they should say anything at all in case they might set someone off.

Kallex, he couldn't care less. He's just tired of being caught up in this and wants the fuck out.

This was supposed to be easy and now he's gotten himself drug into more drama and stakes than he had any real interest in even for a good payout.

Words appear to win this time. Though provide no further answers and plenty more questions.

The chimera's brows raise behind his shades which he'd now fixed back into their proper place at the sudden swift healing this Set was capable of. Then again, he probably shouldn't be surprised considering he just witnessed faer come back from the dead like it was nothing.

He's quick to stand and brush himself off after that with a muttered thanks. More so put out there for professional sake than anything. His tail stirs back to life, seemingly having gotten knocked out somehow or another during the collapse.

Bibi's wings give a flutter of relief as the hunter's healing grenade connects and any pain fades away to a distant memory, allowing them to stand more upright to look at the wreckage of their makeshift workshop. Loosing all their projects stung, but it was all those supplies they'd obtained that were the real loss more than anything.

It's probably going to take them a while to rebuild even half of that. But.. they shake their head. It's the least of their worries right now.

"The fuck are you on about apologizing? It was gonna happen anyways. And you did come to back up my ass. If anything I should be thanking you for bothering to get involved in the first place. Apologizing that you did. I probably would have been screwed if you hadn't showed up."

Bibi insists, expression.. distant. Like something's eating at them, but they know that look. It's not like they want to be dwelling anyways.

They turn to leave with Apollo after casting one last look over their shoulder at Set, an uncertain look flashing in their eyes for just a moment.

"Don't worry about that stuff. It's, not that big a deal really. I'll.. figure it out. At least I know the prototypes were viable now. Kind of."

[soleilapproves]

Older boyfriend Price who is absolutely DISTRAUGHT over the fact that you don’t care about marriage because you think he’s over it.

Note: this one has no smut but it has mentions of sex and sexual relations so interact at your own discretion. Reader is in mid twenties.

Masterlist

“What the fuck do you mean by you don’t want to?” If Price had been any louder, anyone outside his car would’ve been able to hear him.

It had been a few months into your relationship with Price after almost a year of being friends with benefits. You weren’t sure how your arrangement changed over time but you were glad to be with him as he valued you a lot.

“I mean, think about it. You’re like, what? 40-“

“I’m 37, love”

“Right, yeah, I just think that it doesn’t really matter as long as we’re having fun together. Honestly, I thought you’d agree.” You said before taking a bite out of your burger.

Price could only watch you in shock. Sure, your relationship started on the basis of sexual benefits but when he did think of the future all he thought of was you. Even if you were a generation younger than him, he had never felt such synergy with anyone before. It was a connection of a lifetime - emotional and sexual.

“So you don’t give a shit about marriage because you think I don’t care about it.”

“Kind of. If I’m gonna get married I need my partner to be on board too, don’t you think?” He sighed at your reply. You looked up at him, confused and cheeks full with your dinner as you grabbed the plastic cup of coke.

His heart swelled at the sight. It was like looking at an innocent chipmunk. To think that the same face looked fucked out an hour ago awed him but he couldn’t let himself get distracted by your unintentional seduction.

He grabbed your drink and put it back in the cupholder. You were about to whine but he grabbed your face and pulled you close, noses almost touching.

“You-“ peck “-are the most wonderful thing to happen to me and I’ll be damned if I don’t tie you down with me in the future.”

Your face heated up. You had swallowed your food not too long ago but your mouth felt like it had gone dry.

With your face in his hands he continued. “I’ll have a rock on your pretty little finger before you know it.” He left a longer peck on your lips this time and pulled away.

What you didn’t know was that he already had a ring for you. It was stored away in a hidden drawer in his desk, waiting to be worn by you.

In fact, he had brought it just a month into your relationship. He wasn’t religious but he knew that a person like you was the blessing of a lifetime.

[in-class-daydreams]

Imaging you and ex-husband Gojo getting into an ugly fight for one of the first times since the initial divorce.

"Does your little boyfriend know you kissed me?" he asks lowly.

Your living room was not the ideal place to get into spats like this, but you'd rather here than either school where eavesdroppers can spread your business all over the place.

"He doesn't, actually!" You turn and stalk towards the kitchen, calling over your shoulder, "He's not my boyfriend, so it doesn't matter."

Satoru and his ridiculous long legs easily keep up with you. "Is that how that works?"

You turn to face him, only to bump right into his chest. When did he get that close?

Jabbing a finger into his chest, you say, "If, by some insane lapse in judgement, I kissed you while I had a boyfriend, I'd own it and come clean. It's called 'communication,' Satoru, look it up." Again, you turn to make your way into another room, eager to be away from him, but he grabs you by the wrist.

"I hate when you do that! You say some pain in the ass thing, then you try to walk away! You do it every time," he gripes. "And what would you tell him, huh?"

"I'd tell him your fucking lips were dry!" you snap. "And that it was a mistake."

Satoru grabs you by the face with one hand, squishing your cheeks together and forcing you to look at him. With one flick of his finger, he uses his technique to force his blindfold off. You're left looking into his crystal blue eyes that make you feel like a teenager again.

"You still love me," he tells you.

"I don't."

"I can tell. You look at me the same way you always have."

"No."

"Say it!"

"Fuck off!" You turn and bite his hand hard. He yelps and recoils. His fault for always letting you through his infinity. "You want me to love you, Satoru?" you shout. "You wanna act like you've changed?"

Memories of him walking into the restaurant with another woman on his arm flash in your mind. Holding back tears, you continue, "Maybe you have. But you changed for other women instead of me, so why should I give a damn about what you want?"

Satoru always blamed himself for the divorce, as much as you tried in the past to reassure him that there were a dozen factors working against you. He's done his best to take what you've said in the end days of your marriage to heart and become a better man. Communicating with dates, being better about speaking his true thoughts, all of it was an attempt to be the type of man you wanted to be married to. For you to imply that all that was too little, too late cut him deeper than you could ever know.

And so, in a stroke of pure idiocy, Satoru reaches out, cups your face, and kisses you like he'd never get to again.

Heehoo

Click [here] to keep up with ex-husband Gojo and his estranged family | Ask stuff about Sen and the fam [here]

[jinwoosbabyboo]

"Love and Deep Pockets"

Our LADS Men are financially stable we know this however.....what kind of provider are they? Walk with me....

Zayne

Type: Head of Household

I see Zayne as the traditional head of the household type of man. However he respects you and understands that if you want to work you're free to do so. Just know that all the money you make is yours alone.

MC: Let me pay for something! Zayne: Just let me take care of you

If you really insist on paying he will let you if that's what will make you happy/feel better. Otherwise he's covering all the bills, dates, trips, etc. the only thing that gets split 50/50 are household duties and even then you have to strong arm your way into the kitchen or into doing any of the cleaning.

Zayne is incredibly self sufficient; he's clean and orderly. He is used to keeping his house clean and his clothes washed, pressed, and folded. He's almost unreal with how perfect he is.

The only time you really spend your own money is when it's a surprise for him or when you're alone. He enjoys taking care of you because he absolutely adores you. You're a dream come true and he'll do anything to keep you happy.

Rafayel

Type: Head of Household, False Sense of Independence Provider

If you want to be spoiled he's perfectly fine with that. He's rich and you're his babygirl as long as he can see that smile and be around you he's a happy camper.

Now if you are hell bent on splitting 50/50 Rafayel will let you think you two are splitting bills and things 50/50 meanwhile all the money you send him for half of anything he's putting it into an account that's just collecting interest. He will let you pay for anything and everything you want but best believe he's reimbursing you behind your back.

He'd laugh when you figure it out and try to cuss him out.

MC: I gave you that money to help with the bills Rafayel: and it did help .... it helped me giggle while you thought I'd actually let you pay for anything.

Xavier

Type: Head of Household, No Argument

Xavier is also traditional in a way I mean he's a prince. He is definitely providing everything with no argument. The day you decided to move in with him your bill paying days were over. He let you have your independence when you lived alone, but now you're in his care.

MC: I could've paid for it Xavier: I know but now you don't have to

You can go shopping, buy groceries, buy lunch .... if you're by yourself. If he's with you expect him to already be sliding his card into your hand or directly into the card reader before you can even pull yours out. You have to damn near fist fight this man to pay for anything.

Sylus

Type: Sugar Daddy, Head of Household, Spoiled Brat

SYYLLUUUSSSS. I need him in ways that are unhealthy. This man is spoiling the absolute FUCK out of you. He gave you his black card like it was nothing and asking to spend his money is a 'trivial matter'

You had a bad day? Deposit. You had a good day? Deposit. He misses you? Deposit. Just because? Deposit.

Don't even think about trying to pay for something with your own money. He's the type to hide your cards and slip his into your wallet just so you have no choice, but to spend his money.

MC: I have my own money you know Sylus: Im more than aware kitten I just dont care

Whats his is yours and what's yours is yours. That’s his mentality all he wants to do is make sure you want for nothing and you have the most comfortable life with him.

Don't worry if you still want to work he wouldn't stop you, but those weekly or biweekly checks are just going to be collecting interest because it won't be touched.

[retrosabers]

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐔𝐌𝐄’𝐒 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐄 𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐌.

logan howlett x fem!reader

summary: the scent of you is driving logan crazy.

contains: mild 18+ content. MINORS DNI. mentions of masturbation (m&f), a steamy little make out, and implications of future smut

word count: 1.8k

a/n: not me trying to capitalize off the hugh jackman renaissance and revive my dead blog…anyways, this is my first time writing for logan! hope you all enjoy <3

i feel like we don’t talk enough about logan’s enhanced sense of smell.

the man can catch a whiff of someone the second they walk into the room, even the building sometimes if their scent is strong enough. it’s especially heightened when he realizes he’s attracted to you. at first he thought maybe it was because you were always wearing perfume, the aroma lingering around the mansion wherever you traveled. but then it became such an intense, all encompassing sensation that he knew it was something deeper.

his suspicions are confirmed one night as he walks past your room. if the faint whimpers he heard weren't enough confirmation of your activities, then the scent that fills his nostrils seals the deal.

you’re touching yourself. and he can smell your arousal.

it makes something stir in his stomach. the animal-like urges he always tries so hard to keep at bay threaten to make their way to the surface the longer he stands frozen in the hallway. logan attempts to shake the heat that spreads across his skin as he makes his way back to his own room, but it only ends with him cumming hard into his hand an hour later.

the next day, when he catches you on your way out of charles’ office, you offer him the same kind, beaming smile you always did. then that damned smell fills his nostrils again and his fists curl at his sides once you’re out of eyesight.

there’s only one explanation for it.

you’re ovulating.

which means there’s no escaping his desires unless you stay out of reach.

so for his sake and yours, he decides to just avoid you completely until the week is over. he can’t risk caving to those urges and doing something stupid and irrational.

of course you’re completely oblivious to it. you think that he’s just being weird, going through another rut of being a standoffish loner like he was when he first arrived at the mansion. because after about a week, he’s back to being a bit friendlier, to being the logan you had grown to call a close friend.

then the cycle seems to repeat itself and you notice it’s just you he’s avoiding.

you try and wrack your brain to think of anything you could’ve done to warrant this kind of isolation. you hoped if something upset logan he would just talk to you about it instead of playing this childish game of hot and cold.

after a couple months, you decide you’ve had enough.

cornering him was a difficult task. but you were observant enough to know certain parts of his routine, including exactly when he would be lingering in the common areas after all the kids had gone to sleep. after two failed attempts of trying to catch him in the kitchen, you finally managed to find him alone and unsuspecting.

“why have you been avoiding me?” you blurt, wanting to cut right to the chase. you’re expecting him to flinch a little bit, perhaps even be stunned.

but he knew you were coming. logan knew it was only a matter of time before you noticed his schtick.

still, he decides to look for an excuse, any excuse, to cover up the real reason.

“m’not avoiding you” he grumbles halfheartedly around the rim of a beer bottle. taking an extra long swig, he finally turns to look at you; leaning against the doorway with your arms folded and a look akin to annoyance plastered across your pretty face.

you cock your head to the side, clearly unimpressed with his answer.

“a few days ago, i watched you back out of a room the minute you realized i was in it,” you start to list off, counting with your fingers. “last month you avoided the wing where the gym was altogether while i was going through a new training regimen.”

logan winces at the memory. the scent of your pheromones was intoxicating. so much so that he couldn’t step foot anywhere near the gym without feeling like he needed to rub one out.

“and the month before that,” you huff out a sad laugh, voice suddenly soft and quiet. “you didn’t even say goodbye before you went off on that mission with scott and jean.”

guilt overtakes him quickly at the pain in your tone.

you’ve never looked smaller as you pick at a loose thread on your sweatpants. “did i do something wrong?”

“no,” logan reassures, jumping out of his seat at record speed, though still trying to maintain some distance. “you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“then what is it? you sigh exasperatedly, desperate to put an end to this nagging feeling that’s been eating away at you. “logan, you know if something’s bothering you, you can tell me.”

and he wants to. he so badly wants to, maybe even see if you’ll offer to help him out. but you’re you. the sweetest, kindest thing he’s ever known and he’ll be damned if he lets his curse of a mutation ruin whatever relationship the two of you have.

but then you’re inching closer and his skin starts buzzing again. his senses are consumed by you. by the way you look up at him with big, wide eyes, the softness of your skin as you reach to place a comforting hand on his forearm. it's all too much, and he finds himself pulling away from you with a grunt.

it hurts to see him retreat from you so aggressively. his jaw is clenched tight, his fists at his sides even tighter as the veins in his arms bulge bigger than you’ve ever seen before. he looks pained. like he’s fighting something internally.

“logan,” you approach him cautiously, unsure of what exactly to do. “what’s going on?”

his eyes squeeze shut at the sound of your voice. “just, please go back to your room.”

“i’m not leaving you like this.”

“m’not asking you,” he grits out, almost like a growl. “i’m telling you. go back to your room.”

now he was starting to piss you off. you narrow your eyes, leaning your hip against the counter.

“or what?”

suddenly he’s crowding your space, chest heaving up and down as he stares at you with pupils so wide his eyes are nearly black. logan’s voice is scarily level when he utters his final warning.

“or i’m gonna do something i regret.”

when you shift closer to him, his nose twitches with a sniff. the raise of your brow doesn’t go unnoticed, and he knows that you’re not leaving this room until you get to the bottom of what he’s been hiding.

that’s when something inside logan decides to throw caution to the wind, just for a minute.

“i can smell you.”

curiosity morphs into confusion at his admission. you shake your head.

“i don’t understand.”

then, the man’s gaze travels to the waistband of your pajama pants, the tension in his jaw growing more taught by the second. his hands flex at his sides, trying to keep him grounded and calm as he finally admits what’s been driving him mad.

“i can smell you.”

the emphasis on the last word takes a minute to register. logan watches as the gears turn behind your eyes, catches the exact moment of realization as your gaze softens and your lips part.

oh.

oh.

slowly things start to piece together. how logan’s behavior seemed to fall around the same time these past couple months. a few weeks before your cycle.

he wasn’t avoiding you because he was angry, or upset. he was avoiding you because you were fucking ovulating.

logan expects you to flee, to be completely weirded out and steer clear of him for the foreseeable future. what he’s not expecting, is the words that come out of your mouth.

“i can help you with that if you want.”

you say it with such nonchalance, such casualness that he wonders if you’re even really grasping what you’ve said.

the wolverine shakes his head. “trust me, you don’t want this.”

he doesn’t quite believe his own words as he watches you close the distance between your bodies. something you’ve been desperate to do for as long as you can remember.

the thin fabric of his tank top and the soft cotton of your t-shirt is the only thing standing between you both. your chests are mere centimeters from touching and logan can feel the heat radiating from your bodies as his confession hangs heavy in the air. then that fucking smell comes back tenfold and he groans.

“you don’t get to make that choice for me,” your voice is sickly sweet, dripping with desire as your fingers ghost over the waistband of his jeans. he feels like a horny teenager as he preens at the barely there contact.

logan breathes your name, a last stitch effort to get you to run, though he knows it’s futile. if there’s one thing he knows about you, it’s that you're stubborn. unmoving in your ways.

and that when you want something, you don’t stop until you get it.

your hand comes up to cradle the side of his face, a rather gentle touch he wasn’t anticipating. his eyes flutter shut as you swipe your thumb over the expanse of his cheekbone.

your words are barely above a whisper. “i trust you, logan. completely.”

that’s all he needs to hear before he throws any sense of self control out the window.

he surges forward and captures your lips in what is possibly the most heated kiss you’ve ever experienced. you nearly stumble over at the sheer force of it. logan’s large hands fly to your waist, yours to the back of his neck as his tongue prods for entrance into your mouth. it’s messy, almost primal as you let him ravish you like he’s been thinking about for weeks.

you moan and he swallows the sound greedily, desperate to hear it again, and again, and again. when his lips move to press against the column of your throat, you know this is going to escalate into exactly what you hoped it would.

“logan,” you breathe out as he focuses on your pulse point, his hands wandering further south to knead at the globes of your ass. “not here.”

“why not?” he mutters, all smirky and smug as he continues to press wet hot kisses against your neck.

“because i would prefer if you didn’t fuck me where our friends eat.”

he laughs, a deep vibration felt against your chest as you absentmindedly grind your core against his. it makes him bring his mouth back up to yours, stealing one final kiss before he pulls away.

looking at you like he wants to eat you alive. and by god you might just let him.

pressing a playful smack against your backside, he gently nudges you in the direction of the corridor.

“lead the way sugar.”

thanks for reading! <3

[littlelamy]

random times when rafe wanted to please you

⭐️The First Time: It was a warm summer night, and the stars twinkled brightly over the Outer Banks. You and Rafe were at a bonfire, the sound of laughter and music echoing around you. As the night wore on and the crowd thinned, you found yourselves nestled together on a blanket, the heat of the fire illuminating his sharp features.

“Hey,” he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Can I show you something?”

Intrigued, you followed him a little ways away from the fire. Rafe pulled you into a secluded spot, his breath warm against your ear. “I want to taste you.”

Before you could process the words, he sank to his knees, his hands gripping your thighs. The excitement and anticipation shot through you as he leaned in, his mouth brushing against you. The sensation sent shivers down your spine, igniting something primal inside you. He teased you with his tongue, exploring with an eagerness that made you gasp. It was the first of many times, and you both knew it wouldn’t be the last.

⭐️After His Confession: It was a quiet night after a long day, the kind where you and Rafe were just lounging on the couch, a blanket thrown over your legs. The flickering light from the TV cast a warm glow around the room. Rafe turned to you, his gaze heavy with something unspoken.

“Can I tell you something?” he asked, a seriousness in his tone.

“Of course,” you replied, curious.

“I think about your clit a lot. Like…a lot,” he admitted, his cheeks slightly flushed.

You could feel heat creeping up your own neck as he continued, “It drives me crazy how much I want to taste you.”

Without waiting for a response, he slipped down to the floor in front of you. His fingers grazed your thighs, and with a soft gasp, you let him pull you closer. He pressed his mouth against you, the need evident in every movement. The way he worshipped your clit made you forget everything else, lost in the pleasure he gave.

⭐️After a Fight: You and Rafe had a heated argument earlier that day. The tension between you was thick, lingering like an unwelcome fog. But as night fell, something shifted. Rafe, his frustration still evident, pulled you into his arms, his lips crashing against yours.

“Damn it, I’m sorry,” he breathed between kisses, his hands moving down your body.

“Let me show you how sorry I am,” he whispered, lowering himself to his knees once more.

With an urgency that took your breath away, Rafe dove into your core, his mouth working you like it was the only thing that mattered. Each flick of his tongue melted away the earlier tension, replacing it with an overwhelming need. He lost himself in you, sucking on your pussy as if he were trying to make up for every harsh word exchanged earlier.

⭐️After an Impromptu Swim: You had gone for a late-night swim, the ocean waves crashing around you. Rafe had followed you, a playful gleam in his eyes. As you splashed around, the thrill of the night led to a sudden, passionate kiss.

“Let’s take this back to my place,” he suggested, a smirk on his lips.

Once you were in his room, Rafe wasted no time. He pushed you onto the bed, his eyes dark with desire. “I can’t wait any longer,” he murmured, kneeling between your legs.

The way he savored you that night was unlike any other, his mouth sucking on your bud as if he were starved. You writhed beneath him, lost in the sensations as he brought you to the brink of ecstasy time and time again.

⭐️ The Morning: After a night filled with passion, you woke up wrapped in Rafe’s arms, sunlight streaming through the window. He stirred beside you, a sleepy smile spreading across his face. “Good morning,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“Good morning,” you replied, feeling the warmth of his body against yours.

As the morning sun bathed the room in golden light, Rafe’s hand slipped down your body. “I was thinking…” he trailed off, a teasing smirk forming on his lips.

“Thinking about what?” you asked, your heart racing.

“About making you feel good,” he said, his voice low and sultry.

With that, he moved down your body, his mouth finding your clit. The gentle morning light made everything feel dreamlike as he worked you with a slow, deliberate intensity, drawing out every moment of pleasure. You couldn’t help but surrender to him, the world outside forgotten.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafecameroninterlude @sstargirln

[a-ikuoliver]

happy birthday to the man!! — katsuki sees your sex toys once and is haunted by what you look like using them

pairing: bakugou x f!reader w/c: 1.5k warning/s: nsfw 18+, m! & f!masturbation; sex toys, i think that's everything notes: this is a bit short BUT i had to get something out for the man, this took me like 2 weeks to write but hopefully now i'll be out of my slump a little bit! pls enjoy c:

crossposted to ao3 • masterlist • wip updates & voting • kofi • askbox

fuck… he really doesn’t know when the lines started to blur between friend and fantasy, from wanting to hang out with you to wanting you, from talking to you about your day to being bricked up hearing your voice. yet, here he was, hot water streaming down his neck, plastering damp hair to his forehead; the water pouring over his head nowhere near enough to wash his mind of you.

he’d been plagued by you, morning to night, even in his damn dreams since he tried to find a phone charger at your place.

it’s not like he was snooping, he wasn’t trying to find that sort of thing, bakugou was only trying to find your spare charger, he’d seen you put it in one of these drawers before, how was he meant to know you left your spare chargers right below all of that?

he’d slammed the drawer shut the absolute second he realised exactly what he was staring at; the bedside drawer stuffed to the brim with bright, phallic toys, a collection of smaller, rounder vibrators, something that looked awfully similar to a gag, and he heard the telltale metal clinking of at least one pair of handcuffs against the wood when he slammed it closed. embarrassing heat crawled up his neck, burning his cheeks and setting the very tips of his ears alight. stuck in the same spot, mouth half opened dumbly, his eyebrows creased in the centre of his face, all blood rushing from his brain down to his half-hard cock already straining against his pants, the need making him ache.

every hour since that, he’d spent thinking of what your wet cunt looked like swallowing the toys; so pretty and drippy, how it looked tensing around nothing when you came from the buzzing of your vibrator, how you’d look writhing and moaning handcuffed with that gag in your mouth, how your drool would stain your shirt, sticking the fabric to your skin. god, it was just so lewd, even under the purifying water, he felt dizzy, sticky, hot, sweaty, the image of your toys burnt into his retinas, no matter what he tried to distract himself with, he always saw your toys at the forefront of his mind, the perverted imagery refusing to budge from its newfound home.

bakugou groans, a deep, rough sound drowned out by the even buzzing echoing in his ears, the sound slowly building, kicking to a new level when your whine drowns it out. you always start nearly silent in his dreams, just tiny gasps escaping your parted lips when you’d nestle the toy right against your clit. you only get louder from there, your eyebrows scrunching together like his own were, marking two little tallies in the middle, tilting upwards at the centre as you pulled your lip up between your teeth. the motion did absolutely nothing to muffle your sounds, your whimpers and moans only growing louder with every heave of your chest, every passing moment with the vibrator pressed to your pulsing clit making your hips jolt into it.

you reach between your thighs with a whine that sounds all too similar to his name torn from your lips, dipping your fingertips in your slick cunt, collecting all the cum gathering at your trembling hole without even taking a breather from humping your vibrator like your life depended on it. your movements grew jerkier and jerkier the longer the intense vibrations were held to your drooling pussy, your eyes fluttering closed with a breathless shout of his name, shaky, wet thighs squeezing around your hand, even as the vibrator slipped from your grip, falling forgotten onto the sheets beneath you, the constant stimulation growing too much for you—

“fuck.” he really couldn’t help it, his hand travelling lower down his abdomen, trailing behind droplets of water still running down his torso to his hard cock, the tip already leaking from the thought of you. wrapping his fist around the base of his cock, he squeezed once before twisting his wrist, slowly jerking his cock, wondering if you were in your shower doing the same, fucking yourself on one of your toys imagining him in its place just as he wished it was your warm cunt squeezing around his dick instead of his hand.

“katsukiii—” bakugou can feel you beside him, your figure displacing the dense steam surrounding him, a heavy, thick silicone dildo hanging from the glass wall of the shower, your figure slick and soapy from the shower, damp hair sticking to the soft skin of your neck and face when you bent at the waist, lining the tip of the plastic cock up with your drooling hole. the head of the cock would slide into your cunt all too easily in his fantasies, always greedy to watch you take more and more, inch by inch sinking onto it. your mouth falls further open the more you take of the toy, the pleasure too much for you to even hold your head up by the time your ass was pressed against the cool glass, your back arching with the tip of the dildo nestled deep inside your cunt. he wonders if the curve of it would rub on your g-spot at this angle, if it would drive you crazy grinding against the glass, whining when you can’t take it anymore.

bakugou’s head falls back thinking of you reaching for the shower head, his cock pulsing in his hand when he grips the base, his muscles tensing and relaxing while he tried desperately not to cum; the image of you playing behind his eyelids making that a near impossible task. even with his eyes squeezed shut, there you are at the forefront of his mind, switching the settings of the shower head to a concentrated stream, aimed directly at your aching clit, your broken moan jolting his hips forward into his hand, stroking the length languidly. your voice wavered, repeating his name again, the stimulation inside and outside your cunt just so overwhelming.

bracing against the tile with your spare hand, you lift yourself back off the toy, the base suctioned to the glass remaining stuck as you grew quicker in your movements, starting to bounce and roll your hips in a smooth tempo. he matches the pace of your hips with his fist, his breath coming out in nothing but deep huffs. his uneven groans were nothing compared to your sweet chorus of moans and whines, an endless symphony playing in his head of “ah-ah-ah”’s and “mmmng”’s the closer you got, your cum coating the toy just like his pre was smearing all over his fist.

he can’t help the guttural sound that escapes him next, a garbled, broken version of your name when your thighs tremble, your knees only moments away from buckling from the pure bliss; the water is still aimed at your clit, even when you can’t bounce on the dildo anymore, wave after wave of pleasure drowning you until your eyes rolled into your skull and your cum gathered in a creamy ring at the base of the toy, your ass flattening against the glass as you greedily took more of the toy, intensifying the euphoria wracking through your body. he knows your toy fills your cunt so perfectly, knows how you’d hump the air to get more and more of the water aimed at your clit, unrelenting in chasing your orgasm, jolting and jerking until your knuckles turned white against the tile wall, until your voice was so high and loud it didn’t even sound like you anymore.

he wonders if you’d ever screamed taking the fake cock, if you’d ever been so overwhelmed you squealed, your pretty cunt clenching around the toy, milking the poor plastic for everything it can’t give you, or if he’d be the first to make you cum so intensely.

“ka-aa-ki—” you can’t even spit his name out, your name the same mess on his plump lips, caught so hard between sharp teeth he worries he’ll split the thin skin. all his muscles tense, his abdomen clenching low on his stomach, the veins stretching along the underside of his cock throbbing with the need to join you in the throes of pleasure, to cover your cunt in milk white cum you desperately tried to squeeze from the silicone.

your name is a choked mantra tumbling from his lips, over and over again, dark crimson eyes rolling into the back of his skull the longer you bounced on the toy, pinching sensitive nipples between your slippery, soapy fingers, dragging your orgasm out as long as you could, as long as he would, until your knees were weak and your couldn't even manage to dumbly spit out his name anymore.

“fuck.” he damn near whines, a mess of cum covering his fingers, coating his knuckles as he kept fucking his fist through the waves of his own orgasm, shivering even with the hot water running down his body, cleaning his hand even as he continued to stroke his cock, relaxing his muscles as his toes still curled, his knuckles stark white against the tile.

his head fell forward onto the cooling tile, a temporary relief for the haziness swirling around in the steam.

shit, how was he meant to look you in the eyes after this?

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[kateschi]

in the stillness

synopsis: after an injury leaves you in the hospital, your husband stays by your side and watches over you, silent for a moment.

pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

⊹ ࣪ ˖ notes: him saying 'my wife' does things to me tbh

the steady beeping of machines fills the quiet hospital room, but katsuki can’t hear anything except the pounding of his own heart.

his eyes stay locked on you, lying still in the bed, wrapped in bandages that make his gut twist every time he looks at them.

he’s sitting beside you, arms crossed tightly over his chest, jaw clenched like he’s fighting back the urge to scream.

there’s a storm brewing behind his red eyes, and you can feel it—see it in the way his shoulders are tense, in how his leg hasn’t stopped bouncing since he got here.

“you can go home, y’know,” you murmur with a weak smile. “you don’t have to stay.”

his eyes snap to yours, his scowl deepening. “absolutely not,” he growls. “I’m not goin’ anywhere. you think I’m leavin’ you like this?”

you chuckle softly, even though it hurts a little to laugh. “I’m fine, katsuki. it’s just a few bruises. you’ve seen worse.”

“doesn’t matter,” he snaps, but there’s a roughness in his voice, something he’s trying to bury beneath the anger. “it doesn’t mean I’m leavin’. I should've been there faster. you wouldn’t be in this damn bed if I had been.”

you frown at his words, knowing exactly where his mind is going. “katsuki, it wasn’t your fault. I’m a hero too, remember? I know the risks.”

he scoffs, looking away from you, his hands tightening into fists on his knees. “don’t give me that crap. I’m supposed to have your back, and I didn’t. I was too slow.”

his voice wavers for a split second, and you see the guilt eating him alive.

“hey,” you say softly, reaching out to grab his hand. he flinches at the contact, not because he doesn’t want it, but because it’s you—hurt, reaching out to comfort him when it should be the other way around.

“I’m fine, katsuki,” you repeat, squeezing his hand gently. “you got there. that’s what matters.”

his gaze locks onto yours, fierce and frustrated. “no, what matters is that you wouldn’t be here if I’d been quicker. I shoulda seen it comin’. should've—”

you shake your head, cutting him off. “stop. you’re beating yourself up over something you couldn’t control.”

“that’s bullshit,” he snaps, standing up abruptly, pacing in the small space between the bed and the wall. his hands run through his hair, tugging at the strands in frustration. “I wasn’t fast enough. you could’ve died, because of me being too slow.”

the words hang heavy in the air, and you can see how much they’re weighing on him, tearing at him. this is katsuki at his rawest—angry not because of anyone else, but at himself.

he’s always been his harshest critic, and now, seeing you hurt, he’s taking all that anger out on himself.

you sit up a little, despite the dull ache that runs through your body. “but I didn’t, katsuki. I’m right here. you saved me.”

he stops pacing, standing still, his back to you. his shoulders are tense, and you can hear him take a deep breath, trying to reign in the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside him.

when he finally turns around, his face is a mixture of anger and vulnerability—two emotions he’s never been good at handling.

“damn it,” he mutters, stalking back toward you. he sits on the edge of the bed this time, closer than before, and his hand finds yours again, this time holding on a little tighter.

“you don’t get it, y/n. I can’t—” his voice falters, and for a second, you see something crack in his usual tough demeanor.

“I can’t just sit here and act like it’s no big deal,” he says quietly. “seein’ you like that… I’m supposed to be stronger. supposed to be the one protectin’ you, and I couldn’t even do that right.”

your heart aches at how hard he’s being on himself, but you know this is how katsuki is. he carries the weight of responsibility like it’s his personal burden to bear, and any sign of failure hits him harder than it should.

you squeeze his hand, drawing his attention back to you. “you didn’t fail, katsuki. you got there. you stopped it before it got worse. that’s all I need.”

he doesn’t respond for a moment, just stares down at your intertwined hands, his thumb running over your knuckles absentmindedly. there’s a long silence before he speaks again, this time softer, more controlled.

“you’re my wife,” he mutters, almost like he’s reminding himself of it. “I’m supposed to keep you safe. you don’t get to get hurt like this.”

you smile, tugging lightly on his hand to bring him closer. “and I’m supposed to protect you too. we’re in this together, remember?”

he huffs, clearly still not happy with himself, but the tension in his shoulders eases just a little. “yeah, yeah,” he mutters, leaning back in his chair again.

but his hand never leaves yours, gripping it tightly like he’s afraid to let go.

“you’re not gettin’ rid of me,” he says after a long pause, his voice a little lighter now, though the worry is still there, lingering under the surface. “I’m stayin’ here until they force me out. and don’t even think about tryin’ to convince me otherwise.”

you laugh softly, the sound easing some of the heaviness in the room. “wouldn’t dream of it.”

for a moment, neither of you says anything, just sitting there in the quiet comfort of each other’s presence.

you can feel the intensity of his gaze, the way he’s still watching you like he’s waiting for something to go wrong, but you know he’ll calm down eventually.

he’s stubborn, protective, and always pushing himself harder than anyone else. but you wouldn’t have him any other way.

“rest, will ya?” he mutters after a while, his voice softer now. “I’ll be right here.”

you nod, letting your eyes close as you feel the exhaustion start to catch up to you. his hand is still holding yours, warm and solid, a constant reminder that he’s there, just like always.

you can barely catch him raising your hand to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to it.

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