#miko.prompt challenge

[matchamiko]

hello!! could I please request prompt 25 with toshinori?

˚₊ ⊹ 25. The first makeout session that could lead to more + Toshinori Yagi

˚₊ ⊹ Warnings: dry humping, previous established new relationship, canon small-might, making out.

He was - grading papers? Finishing off a report on the last homework he set? Actually writing the next homework assignment in fact? Either way, his coffee table was strewn with papers, some in neat piles and some discarded none to kindly, caught under the fans of his laptop open on a word document baring names and grades and percentages he’s not really focusing on right now.

You came over a few hours ago with a bento box or two for the next days at school. It was just something you started doing for him, claimed it was because he wasn’t eating enough and that your love language was cooking food for people, but you loved that he would kiss your cheek and parade it around the school wrapped in its cute cloth with its cute bow. And you kind of never left, chatting idly with him from the kitchen while you brewed tea, something soft for him and a herby concoction for yourself, something to make you sleepy and all the more acceptable.

Toshinori could taste it in your mouth. The tea and something else, something distinctly you. Leaning backwards as you cup his sharp jaw, smiling when you hum and kiss his nose affectionately. There was something on the TV, something mind numbing and calm, a documentary about Geisha's he thinks but he's too focussed on his work, and on you. The futon you'd insisted on setting up for him was comfortable, soft and heavy at the same time, a perfect support for his back while he was tucked up by the coffee table while you lounged like a cat on the couch behind him, asking lazily every few minutes for a kiss. This was the first one on the mouth. You'd started on the back of his head, then on his long frazzled strands framing his face and then his forehead, then his nose and when you pecked his lips; Toshinori found himself chasing and chasing and chasing.

"Don't tell the kids that I abandoned their grades for you," he's twisted at a strange angle with his lips muttering yours, a prayer only for you to taste, "Aizawa'll kill me if he knew,"

You breathe him in, eyes fluttering closed and drawing your hands up the sinewy expanse of his neck,

"You have your priorities in perfect order, thank you very much," Toshinori allows you to slink down to the floor, following the droop of your legs and curling into his lap with deep, yearning sigh "I require kisses and you're supplying them, you're serving your duty to your partner,"

He laughs and then moans with the shape of your lips on his jaw,

"I suppose, if you put it like that," he looks at you for a moment, a soft smile stretching over his features and you return it, a little something extra in your eyes he can't quite make out. You two had kissed before, a lot and often but this felt different, felt like honey trickling down his bones and crystallising hot in his belly. Toshinori hums with the tracing of your mouth over his neck, sucking something mean into his delicate skin and he shifts, hands settling on your hips.

Hips that slot deeper against his and give this shy little shudder. A large slender hand cups the back of your head where you practically vibrate against him, the air suddenly palpable and sweet. You think he might ask you to stop, that you've gone far enough and that he's not quite ready for anything more intense, given his injuries and situation and maybe he wants you to go home or even take a break or even -

"Do that again, please," he's far from sober, drinking your lips and swallowing your gushing whimpers, desperate for the kisses and the licks he's come to know so well. These are different, headier, a little smoky and a little dangerous, slow and hard and all things moreish. His free hand guides your hips, into what he's not sure but you gain confidence at his request, undulating with such wantonness that he's the first that moans out loud. Punched and loud and startling, Toshinori flushes right down to his stomach, peaking from where you'd shoved your hands under his shirt, hardly denting your frantic kisses. His grip is harsh, demanding and selfish, smoothing to your ass and this time it's you that grunts at the way he massages a spreads you, slouching lower and wider against the couch.

"I want - I wanna -," you're stuttering but it's from lust, from the sheer magnetic want for the man beneath you, heavy lidded and panting open mouthed, "Please, can we - we don't hav'ta but also, y'know?"

Toshinori kisses you again, slow and deliberate, decisive with his answer; wordless save for a whimper and a jerk.

all rights reserved © matchamiko. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[matchamiko]

#9 - aizawa - fluffy +18 👉👈 no rush at all and sry if 9 was taken aa

˚₊ ⊹ 9. Bleary morning kisses, even while still half-asleep + Aizawa Shouta

˚₊ ⊹ Warnings: somnophilia (past consent given but dubcon just in case I guess, it’s only for like two paragraphs), oral f - receiving, pro-hero Aizawa, built like a house Aizawa, size kink.

You're a vision to him, always have and always will be. Especially when you're like this, curled up under the white sheets surrounded by numerous soft toys and pillows shaped like petals and flowers and all sorts cute. A shoulder teases him, curved in the sunrise of a grey sky, not quite shining but not quite as dull as predicted, rising and falling with the quiet snores he can hear from your chest. Aizawa is a little saddened to have ever missed sleeping next to you, hearing your heavy breaths and feeling you fold in on yourself in the strange, contortionist way you prefer. He used to be offended that you didn't often cuddle, believing it to be a key factor in a healthy, successful relationship but he found that he's just as, if not more content just to know you're in his bed and snoozing soundly next to him.

You twitch when he sits up, sheet falling to his waist and he feels a little sticky from the hot night, and maybe from not moving much, the welts on his arms and sides a testament to that. Aizawa knows you're a light sleeper during the night, always waking up when he starts to get ready for patrol or when he returns, even dragging your blankets to the living room to doze on the couch while he marks assignments by the light of his laptop. But in the mornings when it's chilly and prickly and oh so fresh; you're harder to wake than the dead.

Aizawa thinks it's cute really, reaching beneath the sheet to untangle your hands from where they're pressed tightly into your chest. He knows it's bad for you, and so do you but it's comfortable and stable for you, like a weight on your chest to help you through the night. He knows it's bad, but he can't help but raise your arm to his nose and inhale the spot on the inside of your wrist, where your scent is the strongest and the muskiest from where it's been enclosed and baking all throughout the night beside your heart. Eyes close blearily, fluttering when his tongue darts out to taste you, the shining trail drying as Aizawa reaches the crook of your elbow. He's barely awake, grunting with the creaks in his back and the stiffness of his neck, chapped lips tracing the greenish veins up over your bicep to your shoulder, that sweet, sweet skin giving way so softly for him.

You sigh in your sleep, adjusting a little but falling against him harder, allowing him to loop your limp arm around his neck so he can dive nose first into your neck. Your hairline is a little damp, and Aizawa stifles a chesty groan when he kisses there, down the giving muscle of your throat. He's sloppy, a little careless of your sleeping form and your arm drops from his neck as he pulls the stretchy fabric of your vest down your sternum,

"Uhhn - " you grumble with a start, eyes opening one at a time and then remaining closed with the feel of a heavy body over yours. It's overwhelming in a way, waking up to your partner looming over your body like a lion consuming his prey, tits out to the chilly air and itchy with the scratch of his stubble. One eye opens. Aizawa stares up at you through the mess of his hair, eyes dark and sleepy, body fluid with yours as you roll on to your back and stretch,

"'m all sticky this morning," you complain with a crackly voice, legs peeling apart grossly. Aizawa huffs against your chest, one hand cupping your breast and the other struggling to behave itself,

"Heh, bet y'are," he hears you grumble in response, reaching out to scratch the top of his head affectionately and Aizawa suddenly decides against delving into your underwear in favour of heaving himself up over you, "Hullo, did you sleep okay? You slept through all night for once, well done,"

You swallow and heat up at his praise, however gruff and somewhat hard it comes out of him. His hair shields you from the rising sun and the sound of people beginning their commute to work and you reach to brush a little dust from his eye, chin jerking upwards with an invitation.

"Mhm," you don't trust your voice much in the mornings, especially when Aizawa is so close to you with sleep in his face and hardness between his legs. He obliges to your request, barely kissing you but it's sweet and it's needed and it's honestly beautiful. Dipping low, arms folding and bulging, head cocking to one side and then the other with every sticky kiss he gives you. His chest presses against yours, hair bristly but soft at your insistence in the showers every night, shoulders practically singing at his movements, and you sigh. You sigh into his mouth with a smile. You sigh when his rough fingers stretch into your underwear, sticky and pearly. You sigh louder when he grunts at the immense effort it takes to move his broad body down between your legs, those singing shoulders mean and bullying the supple skin of your thighs over them. Your sigh turns to a croaky, open mouthed gasp when his tongue parts the folds of your cunt, hot from sleep and boasting a scent that has his eyes rolling into the back of his head. Dipping and licking with little slurps, barely touching you but overwhelming you with the stretch of his tongue and the sweet suction of his lips,

"S'early still," he mumbles, kissing your clit with a lazy smack and looking up at you with an even lazier smile at your reclined and positively angelic form, "M'gonna take my time sweetness,"

all rights reserved © matchamiko. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[matchamiko]

for your writing exercise drabbles may i request 28. "Take it, take everything I've got, it's all for you, only for you" with choso (ns/fw would probably work best for this one 🤭) thank you! i can’t wait to read what you come up with

28. “Take it, take everything I’ve got, it’s all for you, only for you” + Choso

Warnings: size kink, penetration, creampie, unprotected sex, talking about anal, prone bone, half hearted degradation, one singular spank, afab reader (use of ‘girl’) .

He’s too big. Everything about Choso is too big. His arms and those bulging shoulders, cradling the crest of your head feel like tree trunks. His chest - oh his chest with a smattering of fine hair brushing your back, rocking with the motion of his hips. Those thighs, soft and giving on the days you curl into his lap to read, are mean and flexing and cut up with crescent indents from your nails.

His cock. Too big, too thick and too annoyingly curved up so he’s gotta use those too big hips to angle it just right. And his too big hands; you’re audibly crying into one of them, spanning the curve of your chin and jaw as he barely holds you up.

The only thing small about Choso, especially right now; are the kisses he whispers to the top of your head and temple. Wet with saliva and sweat but sweet with the taste of your cum on his Cupid’s bow, it’s a stark contrast to the size of him looming over you, caging you in, boxing you on the bed.

“Stop squirmin’,” he doesn’t want you to, not really. Choso loves it when you kick your legs out either side of his, trying to rearrange yourself to fit his massive frame on top of you. He’s unforgiving when he’s got you prone beneath him, pillow tucked under your belly and hips, your hand grappling for his ass as a means to anchor yourself - and make him go faster.

You don’t often use your words, too shy or too empty brained to say much aside from his name; so you resort to the claws, the teeth, the tugs and pulls of his body to where you need him. And Choso always obliges, sometimes with a soft smile and sometimes with this disgustingly dark scowl.

Like the one he wears now, drumming his hips into your ass, cock digging down, down, down into your guts at such an intense, bed rocking strength; you’re sure he’ll break you. One hand cradles your throat, keeping you above the metaphorical water, kissing the tears of your orgasms away, whispering dirty little secrets into your ear when he thinks you’re too out of it to listen,

“Maybe I’ll fuck your ass soon, I promised didn’t I? If you’re good, I’ll do it,” his hair falls around his face, sticking to the sweat on his brow and your mouth opens with a panting wail, “that’a girl, take my cock - fuck,”

You slam your hand on to the mattress, legs jerking from where he’s got you pinned between his and Choso chokes when you cum suddenly, unexpectedly, delicious and wet around his cock.

“G’on,” fists appear either side of your head, sheets crumpling under his strength and all you can do is lay there and accept the brutal thrusts of your partner, one after the other, over and over. Swinging his hips, cock long and thick and creamy, stirring you up good and sending shocks deep into your gut. Vaguely, you can hear Choso muttering above you, back straight and brows furrowed in concentration; whispering those little secrets again that he thinks you can’t hear.

“Take it all, fuck baby, s’all for you, all of it,” you’re not sure if he’s talking about the aching stretch of his cock or the warmth of his cum spilling into you, hips never stuttering and arms strong as ever. A wounded groan echoes from his chest when you reach back with shaky hands, grabbing fistfuls of your ass and spreading yourself with a whimper,

“Mmm look at you, taking everything I’m givin’ you, so good for me aren’t you?” His debilitating thrusts slow to sloppy, lazy grinds, stroking the strain of your knuckles, “so eager too, super eager for me to fuck your ass, or even just this pretty little cunt; s’cute,”

You whine out a ‘shut up’ and Choso laughs, out of breath and chestily before smacking the creased fat of your ass and you squeal, clenching hard and pearly drops of his cum shine around the fill of his cock. A big hand runs up the plane of your back, smoothing through the sticky sweat that had accumulated there from the evening, tucking round the nape of your neck and with a sickening smile, he draws you up into a kiss. You hum and arch higher, lips smacking loud and hips rolling into his, ever enticing, always enticing for him. A singular roll of his lower body has you mewling once again, breathing a wet little gasp into his mouth,

“Wanna take it again huh? Dirty little thing aren’t you? Can’t ever make you happy unless you got my cum in your belly huh?”

all rights reserved © matchamiko. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[matchamiko]

hi sweet Miko! i was wanting to send in prompt 23 + Wriothesley and nsfw pretty pleaseeee ૮꒰ ྀི >⸝⸝⸝< ྀི꒱ა

˚₊ ⊹ 23. Want you to ruin me + Wriothesley

˚₊ ⊹ Warnings: previously established relationship, fingering, penetration, use of pet names (sweetheart, poppet) AFAB anatomy.

You aren’t sure where he begins and you end, too tangled and muddled and messy to decipher how two bodies could possibly fit into the picture. He’s partially undressed you think; his trousers are hanging on by the flex of his ass and his dress shirt is crumpled and half unbuttoned, the chill of his office peeking his nipples under the caress of the starched linen.

Perhaps you’re looking about the same, and for a moment you wish you could see yourself the way Wriothesley sees you. Probably in a no better state of undress, propped on the edge of his desk, the metal smooth and silky against the back of your thighs. Oh, there’s a clue; so your skirt is up by your hips, frills making it hard to see what the big, sinewy forearm is doing between your legs.

“A-ah!” You clutch him desperately, bare tit brushing his arm and that shocks you too, unable to remember clearly when he or even you unbuttoned your shirt and shoved down your brassier. It was all a rush, a delicious rush of hello’s and it’s been a while sweetheart’s and I missed you so much’. One moment you’re descending into the depths of your lover’s lair beneath the waves and the next he’s kissing you gleefully and cupping your cheeks and mouthing at you neck and pressing his eager hips into your belly and …. and…

Two fingers part the petals of your cunt, syrupy and molten, sending you reeling with the bulge of his knuckles and the meat of his muscles. He’s kissing you sloppy and wantonly, licking the roof of your mouth and drooling against your lips, huffing and grunting in response to your mewls and tightly drawn moans.

But his eyes are open and heavy where he’s usually so lost in the feel of you that you’re startled for a moment, pussy fluttering the way his eyelids should be and Wriothesley tries to smirk. He can’t really, not with the heave of your chest and the glossiness in your eyes, clutching his shoulders as his fingers work you like a fiddle,

“That’s it,” he sounds positively wrecked, yet somehow still boasting a smug confidence with how he’s got you strung out and soft in the cavern of his chest, “that’s it sweetheart, sing for me,”

“I - I,” he mouths your words back against your tongue, forearm swelling with how he’s fucking you, fingers crooked and so thick that you feel all disorientated and fuzzy. Your thighs quiver, belly cramping with the addition his hand over your throat, tilting your head up into his gaze. It’s loud, your loud, he’s loud, the pipes creak and you’re sure you’re going to hyperventilate with how precise his fingers are playing with you, barely thrusting and winding you completely with a delicious grind,

“I - want you to ruin me Wrio,” it’s a mewl that sends static down his spine, thumbing your bottom lip and tightening his grip on your neck, to steady you or him, you’re honestly not sure right now, of anything. But you are sure of the long gaze he gives you, surveying your wet cheeks and swollen lips, the tremor of your belly peeking from the leaves of your shirt and the swaying heave of your tits, almost crumpled from his desperation to see them. Thighs flex around his arm and at some point, you’d hooked your heel on the lip of the desk for leverage, a whoreish display of yourself and the slick coating your skin.

This time, Wriothesley manages to smirk but it’s broken and curls into something strangely affectionate,

“Look at you, you’ve only got my fingers inside you and you’re already ruined poppet, ask me something else maybe hm?” His last word is broken, pitched when you howl and come with a dizzying circle of your hips, jerked and jolting. Lips toy with the shell of your ear, breath hot and wet against your hair,

“maybe I’ll ask you to ruin me, I’m halfway there already,” the toe of your shoe brushes the bulge of his crotch, sweltering and practically pulsing under your gaze. The grunt rips from his chest almost painfully, thrusting his fingers hard enough to have you yelp and tighten, looking at him with a hazy gaze. This time his eyes are closed, lip pulled up under his teeth and his nose is pinched, as if trying with all his might not to come anyway but in you and in the mess and the filth and the depravity of it all; you think it’s all rather romantic in the end.

all rights reserved © matchamiko. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[matchamiko]

₊˚⊹ ᰔ Pop a number + a character + 18+\sfw in my inbox and I’ll get back to you with a short drabble !!

₊˚⊹ ᰔ Between 100 - 1000 words, 18+ or sfw or angst or fluff; read my rules for what I do and don’t write !!

₊˚⊹ ᰔ I might not write your prompt right away but I shall do my best !!

₊˚⊹ ᰔ Link to my masterlist !!

Brushing hair away from their/your face

“Well, I’m sorry I fell in love with you, okay? But it happened and I can’t do shit about it.” “You… What?” 

“I know, I know it hurts.”

“Tell me where it hurts, and be specific."

“I - i didn't mean it like that, hold on."

Taking off your makeup when you’re too tired

Leaving a peck on the corner of their/your mouth.

“Your morning voice is so hot."

Bleary morning kisses, even while still half-asleep

“I made breakfast." "i love you

“You're all mine, you got that? i'm not sharing.

Sighing into the other's mouth during a kiss

Sliding hands under their/yourclothes

The soft “yeah?” after a needy kiss

“Fuck, I’ve never— I’ve never done this before—

“I don’t— I don’t think I can last any longer, fuck, please—

Cutting them off with a kiss

Desperately wanting to reach out to the other

“Can I— can I please touch myself?”

Soft whines and whimpers; a plea for more without the use of words. 

“I wanna taste you on my lips again.”

“Fuck, look at you right now…”

“Want you to ruin me”

Watching them stretch in the morning sunlight

The first make-out session that could lead to more

“How about I bend you over and eat you out nice and slow from behind? Would you like that?”

“Can I - can I be on top this time?

“Take it, take everything I’ve got, it’s all for you, only for you”

Kisses following their/your happy trail

“It’s not fair that you look like that and I have to go out knowing everyone else gets to see you looking like that”

Please bear in mind this is aimed as a writing exercise for me, to help with writers block and get the juices flowing. It’s a fun little challenge !!!! Also even if I’ve already done a prompt already, you can send it in with another character !! I’ll try my hardest ₍^ >ヮ<^₎ .ᐟ.ᐟ