#so having his hair all tangled and teeth sticking out help with that

[sweetheartsaku]

(BLLK) just say the word.

𝜗𝜚 MIKAGE REO: RANUNCULACEAE.

a/n: [fem!reader] OMGG exam szn is finally over gais i am free!! i still have so many tests to do tho🙁 AND YES the title is a keshi reference

when mikage reo has a crush on you, he’s the type of boy to use your initials as his math variables. you’re all he ever thinks about, ever since he’s been rotted by the sugars of your kindness and presence. you were like his first and last breeze of air mixed in with love and refreshments. he had been enchanted by your soul, knotting his head and heart with yours. you’re all he ever wants to be around, and you have unconsciously seeped into his life like blood into a white sheet. a love that just keeps leaking, changing its colour completely.

SAY THE WORD, AND I'LL BE YOURS

when mikage reo realises, he can’t help but stare at you lovingly. his eyes are glued to you focusing on your tutor work he had given you, your pencil rapidly yet gently moving across the paper. his eyes are so tender and earnest, staring at you like you had hung up the stars yourself. reo finds himself instinctively caressing a stray hair from your face, his violet eyes still endearingly gazing. instantly, a pink hue graces across his face as his eyes meet yours.

THE LOOK YOU'RE GIVING ME GIVES YOU AWAY

when mikage reo steals your heart, he’s the type of guy to take his time into untangling your silver necklace. the one he had gifted you on your 6th month anniversary, that glistens in the sun. it’s chains are pristine, yet tangled tight, just like the way he had found himself when he fell for you (and does everyday). he smiles at the thought as his tongue sticks out slightly in concentration, one of your favourite habits of his. as a tease, you like to kiss the spot his tongue is before he can pull away. he loves to feel your face close to his, because it feels like his soul is too. he takes the time to untangle your necklace with his initial on the simple charm, even before the date’s expensive booking, he is gentle in unstringing every weaved chain.

YOU FINALLY FOUND THE HIGH THAT YOU'VE BEEN CHASING

when mikage reo falls impossibly deeper, he calls you all the time. not texting, because he knows you won’t listen. reo will call to make sure you eat lunch. reo will call to make sure you have your medicine. reo will bring you your favourite beverage and makes sure to remind you to take a break. reo will do everything he can to take care of you, because to him, when you came into his life, time is definitely more expensive than money. reo will take the time to make sure you are well fed and rested. his favourite part though is when you’re apart. don’t get me wrong, he hates it, but when you’re calling him and quietly telling him you miss him, his heart pounds against his chest a little more. and yes, he lets out a boyish chuckle once you’ve fallen asleep.

ONLY ONE MORE CHOICE YOU GOT TO MAKE

when mikage reo who never forgives himself when you have your first fight. after 6 gracious years, he finds himself living the day he could never fathom. yes, he had forgotten to buy your favourite snack at the convenience store, and he says he swears he will never forgive himself. how could you ever love him again? is what runs through his mind as he curls up against the couch, knees on his chest not feeling privileged enough for a blanket, nor feeling privileged enough to lie down with you in the bed in the room nearby. till then you, realising your fiancé’s absence, cluelessly searching for him, you gasp softly as you find reo all small on the couch. you sit next to him, but he inches away. he can’t help but confess his sins, but it all melts away when you lightly giggle at his silly habits.

I NEED YOU TO TELL ME 'CAUSE I

when mikage reo gets to be held in your arms, he melts completely. he feels his body go putty, his eyelids struggling to stay open to stare at your stunningly sculpted features. his teeth feels like he’s rotting, and his heart aches with an abundance of love. reo nestles his head in the junction between your chin bottom of your neck, absorbing every molecule of love he can. there is nothing he would want more than to unwind, cozily tucked into the embrace of his most beloved, sweetheart, and future wife.

IN MY ARMS FOR A SECOND

when mikage reo finally has you for himself, his brows twitch at the sight of your gorgeous figure, walking down the aisle. tears brim at the bottom of his eyes as you smile at him, taking your last steps in front of him. glitter highlighting the apple of your cheeks, lashes fluttering through the brown mascara and the necklace he untangled 5 years ago dangling off your collarbone. there was not a single moment in the world he would trade for this one. he finally smiles through the tears that stream down his cheeks, sliding the silver ring across the hand that once wrote tutor worksheet answers. it glistens in the sun, he thinks, just like you do.

BABY, SAY THE WORD, AND I'LL BE YOURS

mikage reo’s breath hitches. this is where he is. he is currently playing with his one-year-old, her incoherent babbles filling the silence strung into the air. reo finds himself laying on his stomach on a soft carpet next to scattered toys and various oils and creams for his little version. everything about this surreal moment had all gathered together to grasp onto the base of his neck, clenching onto him as tight as they can, making a lump form in his throat. his little version gently pats his nose, confused why her dad suddenly stop activating. he can’t help but tenderly smile at her, swallowing the lump as he lets a tear fall. your one-year-old innocently wipes it away. she must’ve got her kindness from you. he smiles, because thats what made him fall for you in the first place.

now, your initials have changed. guess he’s gotta fix those math equations, huh?

JUST SAY THE WORD.

[ratwithhands]

Really rough and simple but here's his hat. This took under 2 hours surprisingly 👁👁 might have to use this sketchy style more often. Anyways see you later!

Apologies for dying!!! Got hit with art block + illness so I couldn't finish Emmet Month 😔

Anyways here's a design update for Burst AU. Finally figured out what to do with Ingo's wings and coat! Top drawing is a concept sketch for general appearance, bottom sketch is basic reference for the wings/coat (I cropped the coat so the wings were more visible but it will likely still be full length).

Verrry happy with the final result, gotta say my favourite part is that the wings look like Ingo's long coat when folded. Also the coat itself is mostly just draped; the seams are open so it just slots over top of the wings (also partially held in place by straps). All that's left is to figure out the hat ^^

Hope you guys like the art, let me know what you think, and have a good day!

[crushmeeren]

heyy idk if this is where we put requests but by any chance could you do the mha boys reacting to you putting on the pheromone perfume and you smelling hella good possibly resulting in something freaky ( denki, shinsou or bakugo) or anyone is fine🙏🏾

⋆⋅ I love this idea! I did twist this a bit, it’s basically the love potion “amortentia,” from Harry Potter but as a perfume. Why the fuck it’s so hard for me to shorten things down when I write, I have no damn idea. So here, have this. (.づ◡﹏◡)づ.

All characters aged up/18+. ❲ ̽ ⋆ FEM READER ̽ ⋆❳

⋆⋅ Between the ⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆ symbols are memories of reader and whichever character!

Thank you @pastelbakugou for helping me figure what to write for Shinsou. ( ˘ ³˘(◡‿◡˶)

⋆ ft. kaminari, shinsou, bakugou, todoroki ⋆

..⃗. master list link

The sickly sweet scent of vanilla ice cream infused with honey is what overwhelms Katsuki’s senses first when he leans in and hugs you in greeting. You squeeze him back just as affectionately and he’s in the middle of nosing at your throat when he’s hurtled back in time through his memories.

⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Katsuki mutters hotly. He’s trying, key word trying, to wipe the sweat covering his phone screen onto his tank top but it fails miserably, seeing as how his shirt is soaked fucking through. He’s more or less just smearing it around and he’s debating on just obliterating the useless piece of shit phone.

He curses whoever the fuck is up there and uses sheer willpower not to tear his hair out from the roots because of this scorching heat wave.

Finally, he’s able to read his latest message from you. It tells him to meet you at the ice cream stand nearby his patrol route on his next break.

Katsuki wipes the back of his forehead with a glove free hand, but it slides right across his sticky skin and then sweat drips into his other eye with a harsh sting and goddammit, he’s royally fucking pissed off now.

For your sake, he swallows his swelling rage and makes his way to you swiftly. The two of you have tried to make it a habit to meet a couple times a week when Katsuki has time during his shifts, he gets so busy that sometimes it gets hard to see each other as often as you’d like.

As always, his heart stutters when he lands a few feet from you. The tension drains from his shoulders even as he witnesses drops of sweat being flung off his jaw from the impact of landing and coloring the light gray pavement darker.

You look so, so pretty in your sundress and Katsuki’s stomach swoops when a sweet smile lights up your features. You reach out a cup of ice cream for him to try, teasing him for looking like he’s just taken a shower but he sticks his tongue out at you in retaliation and takes a bite of the treat. Katsuki practically moans when cool cream melts on his tongue. He feels infinitely better.

The sun beats down harshly on you both, but it brightens your eyes and the playful way you blow a coy kiss at him when you part ways leaves him with fingers crunching the empty cup and pants that fit a bit too snug. God, he’s disgustingly in love with you.

⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆

“Kat?” Your concerned tone brings him back to the present. Katsuki can’t stand another minute with your clothes on and hauls you up with a rough grip to the backs of your thighs. You yelp in surprise and scramble to hold onto his shoulders as he strides towards your bedroom.

“I don’t know what the hell you did to smell this way, but you’re gonna keep your eyes on me and I’m fuckin’ you until you pass out. Understood?”

How could you ever hope to say no?

When you’re both naked and tangled in the sheets, Katsuki pushes one of your legs to your chest, curls his fingers around your throat, and pushes his forehead against yours as he stretches your tight pussy out completely with his thick cock. He stays true to his word, hand gripping your jaw and forcing your eyes to stay locked with his own ferocious stare when you grit your teeth and cum.

Then he kisses your forehead afterwards when you’re fast asleep.

Muscle memory tilts Shouto’s head to the side as he leans closer to sniff you curiously, an adorable habit that he’s never been able to break when he wants answers to something.

“What is that?”

“What is what, Sho?”

“You smell like the end of a campfire. Why?”

You raise an eyebrow and saunter closer to where he sits at his desk, his office quiet with most heroes currently out of the building. You step around the corner of his desk and hop up on the edge to sit next him, feet kicking gently.

“That’s important to you? A campfire? Huh I would’ve thought you’d smell something like soba,” you comment with a shrug, half smile tugging at your lips.

Now Shouto’s thoroughly confused.

“I don’t understand. Why would you smell of soba? Are you alright?” Shouto sounds as deadpan as usual, if not slightly concerned. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans back in his chair, staring at you as if he could find the answer by checking out your body. It makes you laugh.

Animatedly, you explain to him about the new “perfume,” Mina let you try. Apparently, whoever wears it prompts the object of their affections to smell whatever scent is important/attractive to them. And suddenly Shouto gets it

“Oh, I see,” he says with an understanding nod. He can narrow it down specifically as to why you smell of a campfire on a cold night.

⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆

“Sho, are you sure we can’t just use your quirk to roast these marshmallows? It’s so much faster!” You protest halfheartedly, but you’re already stabbing one of the fluffy sweets with a stick, assembling a second one for Shouto.

“No. This will be more fun, I promise. I watched Touya-nii and the others do this once, it seemed as if they were very happy afterwards.” Shouto flicks his hand and fire shoots towards the pile of sticks, engulfing them until a decent fire roars.

This sobers you considerably, and Shouto sits down next to you, accepting the offering of marshmallow on a stick happily and oblivious to the depressing sentiment he just offered.

So, you roast marshmallows. You tease each other and laugh as you assemble the s’mores and then lean into Shouto’s left side to fend off the chill of the autumn night afterwards. The stars are brighter away from the city and Shouto has always enjoyed the quiet of the countryside. His heart is close to bursting from his chest every time you laugh and he blurts what’s on his mind.

“I love you.”

It comes out of nowhere and Shouto only feels nervous for a few seconds before you return his feelings. Shouto’s dragging you into the tent before you can blink.

⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆

In hindsight, at least to Shouto, he understands exactly why you smell like a campfire. With slightly rosy cheeks and a matter of fact tone, he recounts the memory for you and he’s sure his hair’s about to catch fire from the way you’re looking at him.

Without caring to lock the door, the two of you end up reliving part of that memory.

Shouto pushes you until you’re flat on your back on his desk, sliding your pants off and making sure your ass is on the edge of it. He drops to his knees and eats your pussy until your thighs squeeze his head.

And when you beg him to fuck you, he bends you over the desk and presses his cock inside you roughly. The snaps of his hips are frantic, and when there’s a knock at the door, all Shouto does is cover your mouth with one hand and keep going until you’re seeing stars.

“Denki!”

Said blonde whips around at the muffled call of his name. Denki feels his smile aching in the apples of his cheeks as he watches you weave through the crowd of people on the dance floor to get to him. You grin in return and wave warmly, which makes his pulse run overtime.

“Baby!” Denki almost squeals, yanking you in for a crushing hug when you get close enough. “You made it! I thought you got lost,” he says teasingly against your ear and you lean back to laugh and punch him in the arm. You crowd into his space once again so he can hear you but an overpowering and delicious scent of coffee and rain pushes up Denki’s nose.

He startles, head jerking back and brows shooting up. Your expression turns questioning but Denki cuts you off before you can speak.

“Holy shit baby, you smell super good. Like, fucking amazing! What are you wearing? It makes me want to rip your clothes off,” He says enthusiastically, tangling your hands together in the process.

“Oh! It’s this new perfume. Well, technically it’s not a perfume but honestly I didn’t think it would work! I assumed it was a scam.” You give him a run down of how it’s supposed to work and he suddenly comes to the realization of why you smell like coffee and rain of all things that could be important to him.

⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆

“Oww,” Denki whines, sticking his tongue out and fanning it quickly.

“Did you burn your tongue?” You bump his shoulder playfully, taking care not to spill your own coffee. “I told you it would be hot, it’s a latte Denki,” you scold him good naturedly, trying not to laugh. He pouts at you, blowing into the lid in hopes to cool it off.

“Well I didn’t expect it to be the surface temperature of the sun!” Denki protests, gingerly taking another sip and humming in contentment when he finds it’s cooled off enough to be drinkable. You laugh again, but then Denki almost runs into your back when you stop abruptly in front of the glass door exit.

“It’s raining! Shit, I didn’t bring an umbrella. How are we supposed to make it back to the station?”

Denki studies the way it’s pouring cats and dogs, before making a noise of triumph and pointing to a bench under an awning not too far away.

“We can go wait for a bus over there!”

You side eye him. “Fine, but if I spill my coffee, you’re buying me a new one.”

The two of you take off, and in true Denki fashion, he trips and spills his coffee everywhere. By the time you both make it to the awning, you’re both soaked to the bone and breathless from laughing.

“Here,” you offer Denki your coffee with a grin, water dripping from the ends of your hair.

“You don’t have to share baby, I’m fine.”

“Yeah, yeah I do. I love you, Denki.”

Your boyfriend short circuits.

“Dammit Denki! Those were the only two lampposts on this street, now I can’t see anything!”

⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆

Denki blinks the memory away and spins you, pulling your back flush to his chest. His body is a long, lean line of muscle as he moves your bodies to the beat and murmurs in your ear.

“Let me take you home and show you just how well this perfume works on me, my dick is hard as a fucking rock baby,” Denki giggles, squeezing your hips when you shove your ass back into his pelvis.

The two of you abandon your friends quick enough to race home, stripping carelessly in your living room until Denki can bend you over the armrest of the couch. He guides his cock inside you unhurriedly, pushing until his pelvis is nestled snug to your ass.

A breathy moan escapes him, and then he’s fucking your pussy as if he could never get enough.

He never will.

Hitoshi’s exhausted when he gets home from work late that night. Being an underground hero is rewarding, but it certainly comes with its downfalls.

He closes the front door delicately and toes off his shoes by the door. It doesn’t take long for him to make his way down the hall and into your bedroom, a tiny half smile worming its way into his expression despite his bone aching weariness when he spots you sound asleep in bed. He pauses to stare at you for a moment.

Hitoshi then showers as fast as humanly possible before crawling under the blankets and curling an arm around your waist, tugging you close until he can nose at the back of your neck. You sigh in your sleep and smuggle closer into his embrace.

Hitoshi trails his nose down the side of your neck and he freezes once he gets to your shoulder. You smell….good. Insanely fucking good, and he can’t quite pinpoint the specific scent but it’s soft and warm and maybe even a little musky. It sends warm blood rushing south and his cock twitches with interest.

He wracks his brain and the only thing he can associate with the scent is your cat, Kiko, when she was a kitten and you first brought her home.

⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆

Hitoshi’s in the middle of playing a game when you return home that day, calling out for him to come to the living room for a second.

“Why?” He yells back. He’s just about to finish this round.

“Just come out here you dick!”

Hitoshi rolls his eyes, but is amused nonetheless by your slightly frustrated tone. He pauses his game and makes his way to where you wait, but stops in his tracks, lips parting in shock and eyes going wide when he sees what you’re holding.

You’re cradling an itty bitty, all black, fluff ball of a kitten in your arms. You grin delightedly at his shocked expression and hold her out almost as if you’re offering her to him.

“You wanted a kitten right? An all black one, like the one you had as a kid at Aizawa’s.”

Hitoshi manages to close his mouth and nod, cautiously reaching out to take the small creature and cradle her to his chest.

He…can’t believe you remembered. You remembered how much his cat had meant to him and went out of your way to find this kitten.

“Thank you,” he says softly, petting the purring kitten’s head with one finger. You step closer and do the same, scratching under her chin until she meows.

“What should we name her?”

“Kiko,” Hitoshi responds with no hesitation, glancing at you for approval and you smile back at him.

“I love it.”

⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆

Hitoshi blinks back to the present, the fond memory lingering at the edges of his mind. He remembers how his heart squeezed against his rib cage in the best kind of way that day and how he knew then he wanted to marry you.

“Baby,” Hitoshi whispers lowly as he kisses your cheek. You stir enough to lazily flip over and hum in question. “I love you, so much.”

“Mm, love you too Hitoshi,” you mumble, sleepy rasp coloring your voice.

Hitoshi bends down to kiss you sweetly, encouraging you to throw a leg over his hips and straddle his waist. He settles you on top of him and wiggles a hand between you to shove his briefs down, cock stiff since he first smelled you, and slides your panties to the side.

Your limbs are still laced and heavy with sleep when Hitoshi helps you sink down on his cock. You melt into his chest, face buried in his throat and arms locked around his neck.

He bends his knees and grips your ass to help you sensually ride him, rocking up into you at a leisurely pace until the warmth finally bubbles over the edge and you cum with a shiver and he follows right behind you.

When he asks you about it the next day, it all clicks into place when you give him the watered down version of how the “perfume” works.

He hums noncommittally before asking you to wear it again.

[shadowcitrine]

If you do That Again--

DarlyxReader 912 words

Warnings: Some language.

Timeline: Not important, season 1-ish

Summary: Daryl is tired of listening to you blowing hair out of your face.

Darly stopped dead in his tracks, his jaw tightening as he glared over his shoulder. “Do tha’ one more time…” His tone is low and threatening, clearly irritated, but there wasn't a reason for it. 

Passing on his left you asked, “What crawled up your ass and died, Dixon?” 

Daryl chewed on the words brewing behind his teeth and marched forward. Why he was pissed off this time was a mystery. Up until now every single one of his demands to be out here with him had been followed to the letter. You'd kept quiet, stayed right on his heels and avoided every single stick you two had come across for at least the last half mile, which for you was a considerable win.

If you'd known he was going to be such an ass you wouldn't have asked to come. With the way he's been acting all day it would have been better to be bored sitting back at camp than deal with the king of grumpy walking buddies. What was worse is his foul mood was starting to rub off on you. Blowing a puff of air upwards you followed the lock of hair flying out of your field of view.

Daryl stopped again this time spinning on his heel. Eyes hard and narrowed, jaw jutting forward he seemed to be sizing you up. The last thing you wanted on this hell hike was to argue but you could see it brewing, unsaid words threatening to burst forward.

“What now?!” You snapped. Quick soured jerks of his head made you feel uneasy, doubly so when his hand went to rest on his knife hilt. The group had warned you about his temper but you'd overlooked that because he was kind of cute when he frowned. 

“All damn day!” He sneered. When you furled your eyebrows in confusion he puffed out his cheeks puffing little breaths between pursed lips. “Fuckin’ sick a’ it!”

“Oh! I'm sorry that the apocalypse didn't come with a thirty pack of elastic hair ties! I can't help the fact that I need to see!”

Daryl shook his head again, fist clenching around the hilt of the blade as he began pulling it out. “Come ‘ere.” He was going to butcher your hair, hack it off just because he was having a shitty day!

“No!” taking a step back away from him you gaped. “I'm gonna let you cut off all my hair!” 

“Ain't cuttin’ your damn hair! Come ‘ere!” he hooked a finger at you. “Gonna stop this shit ‘fore you drive me outta my damn mind.” Daryl is many things but a liar isn't one of then. Taking a cautious step forward ge tucked the blade between his teeth and pulled some string from his pocket. “Tur’ roun’.” 

A tiny gasp left your lips a smile tugging at the corners. “Are you going to do my hair?”

He took the blade from his lips, not an ounce of joy to be read. “Turn ‘round ‘fore I change my mind and saw it off your thick head.” He shoved the string at you. “Hold tha’.” When you didn't move right away he tucked the blade back between his teeth and grabbed your shoulder to spin you around.

He was actually going to do this. No longer facing him you didn't try to tamp down the nerves making goose flesh spreading down your arms. Expecting rough movements for a quick ponytail you were confused when he started sectioning your hair gently freeing tangles from it as he went. 

“Ow!” a sharp pinch at your scalp made you wince.

“Sto’.” The fat syllable sounded wrong in his mouth but you obeyed. He was deft but through fingertips massaging away the sharp pulls of tangles. You hair pulled tight at the back of your head, his actions pulling it backwards causing a strain to keep it upright for a moment. He reached over your shoulder, fingers snapping when you didn't hand him the red piece of dyed twine right away.

Handing it to him you asked, “What did you do to it? Can I see?”

He reached around and used two fingers to guide your face forward again. “Gonna fuck it up if you keep movin’.” Knuckles brushed your upper back, accidental but welcomed and you closed your eyes pretending not to hear the sound of something small snapping. “There! No more listenin’ to you huffin’ and puffin’ all damn day.” He moved away.

“How does it look?” you reached behind touching it, feeling your way down. He'd braided it. There was no stopping the grin that broke out as you pulled the tail over your shoulder to inspect his work. He'd tied off the end tightly finishing the red string with a tiny little bow. “Daryl!” 

“Ain't perfect but it'll hold. Keep it outta your-”

“It's so cute!” Suddenly seeing your inspection wasn't as important as the trees around him. You stepped around him bending to try and catch his eyes. “You even did a bow!” you held the end out for him to see.

“Stop!” the tops of cheeks were pink and while you could pretend it was from the heat you knew that wasn't it.

He started marching away and you ran ahead to try to make him look. “You made it all girly!” you teased. His cheeks were getting redder by the second.

“Stop!”

“Daryl Dixon braided my hair!” you sang out.

“Shut up woman!”

[olivianott]

WHITE CURTAINS

ꕤ Theo Nott x fem!reader

ꕤ part two to WHITE DRESS

ꕤ warnings: enemies to lovers, pure smut, unprotected sex, explicit content not for minors, 18+ please don’t kill me, I don’t speak italian

It’s 3am again. Sometime around lunch you decided that you were not going to meet Theodore tonight. But here you are, in another very thin, almost sheer floor-length dress, slowly steping down the stairs to the pool.

He is already there, thankfully, sitting on one of the big, four poster beach beds with cushions and curtains and everything.

After spending the whole day thinking about last night, replaying every touch and kiss that happened, it still feels like a dream, not real, like it wasn’t even you. But you can’t deny the desire you felt for him. And the pull you feel now. Not allowing yourself to feel pathetic about lusting after a boy that was constantly mean to you the whole time you have known him, you tell yourself that you were made to be worshipped, and yesterday Theodore looked like he was ready to do that.

His back is facing the entrance when you reach the pool area, but he turns when he hears your footsteps in the quiet of the night. You see the relief in his features. He was worried you weren’t coming. Good. His gaze then drops to your dress, all the way to the ground and his face hardens for a second. His smirk starting to match yours, he gives a little laugh: “Of course.”

“What? You think I’ll just do whatever you say? Think again. You have been nothing but asshole to me since the day we met.” You respond, with a little glare, slowly walking closer to him.

“Now now amore, you obviously don’t remember the first time we met, do you?” He grabs your chin with his fingers and makes you look into his eyes. “I wanted to talk to you, brought you a drink, and you ignored me, looking all around me searching for someone else as if I wasn’t even there. Remember? Matheo’s birthday party?”

Shit. Mattheo’s party. Of course you didn’t remember it until now. You were still in an angry heartbroken stage, pining after your ex, drunk off your ass.

Theo sees the realization dawn on your face.

“My ego was hurt. I was mesmerized by you from the first moment I saw you and you ignored me so hard, you didn’t even say one word to me. When I saw that being mean got your attention, I couldn’t help myself. I’m sorry, it was childish of me, I admit.”

You see a little bit of embarrassment in his eyes. Wow. So you were the asshole first.

“I was not in the right mindset at that party.” You bite your lip, and turn your eyes down instinctively, feeling a little ashamed too.

With a hand under you chin, he pulls your face up, his eyes fall to your lips, all the embarrassment gone in an instant. His thumb swipes your lip out from between your teeth. He is bold again. “You’re trying to kill me, princessa? Like last night? Salazar, the view of your body, that wet dress sticking to you. I thought I died and gone to heaven.” While he is talking, his hands travel from your face, down your neck and sides until they settle on your hips, playing with the delicate fabric of your dress.

“I hope you know I keep my promises, diavolina.” With that he fists the material and you feel it strain against your skin.

You shiver at his words, the feeling of his hands, and the promise of ruining the dress. That’s why you wore it. To spite him. To show him you are in control. But are you? With the look in his eyes suggesting he imagines you without the offending fabric, you wish you weren’t wearing it.

The air around you grows thick and heavy, it feels charged somehow.

“I have thought about kissing you since I first laid eyes on you at that party,” Theo says while his hand comes up and rests on the back of your neck, fingers tangling in you hair. “but kissing you yesterday? Better than anything I could have imagined.” You feel the hint of possessiveness in his touch on your neck and in the next second he crashes his lips against yours. He is not gentle, his tongue exploring your mouth, your whole body is on fire from his touch.

His hands travel down and settle on your hips again, fingers walking the delicate material of the longest dress you own up, higher and higher on your legs, until the length is gathered up in his fists against your hips. He does that so slowly, while still kissing you deeply and you feel like you’re gonna combust. Finally, you feel his long fingers against the skin of your thighs and you feel lightheaded.

“This ok, princessa?”

With the fog in your mind you can only nod your head at him.

“No that’s not good enough, amore, tell me that you want this with me.” Fingers on your hips tighten to the point of bruising your skin and he grabs you and sits you up on the mattress of the beach bed. He stands between your legs, the curtains flowing in the wind around you and you feel like you’ll die if he doesn’t kiss you again.

“Yes, Theo, please!” His face is so close to yours and you feel delirious from the intense look in his eyes.

“Good girl.” He takes off his t-shirt, while you open his belt and fumble with a button on his trousers. “That wasn’t so hard, was it, princessa?”

Theo whispers and you love hate his smirk so much. “Asshole.” You can’t help but dig your nails in his chest. It makes him hiss and you smile at him sweetly.

Theo’s hands inch closer and closer to where you don’t have any panties on. The way his face looks under the realization makes you burn again. He looks positively feral.

“You’re gonna be the death of me.” With that he scoots you further back onto the soft bed while getting on as well, hovering over your body under the night sky, curtains all around you. Your dress rolls back down over your legs and that is the last straw for him.

With a hard tug of his hands, the delicate material loses against his strength and the dress is ripped almost all the way up only hanging on its collar around your neck.

“Finally.” He breaths while already kissing the exposed skin of your thighs. Grabing your knee and pushing it up, he opens your legs before his ravenous gaze and teases you with kisses all around the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

With his eyes holding yours, he sinks his face into your core like a hungry man that he is. His tongue is working you so deliciously, murmuring and groaning and moaning into you like a man obsessed. Your body already tightening up.

“I could kiss you and drink from you for all eternity, amore, but now I’m too hungry for you.”

Coming up to hover over your almost naked body, he starts his kisses under your breasts, slowly inching higher and higher. Finally sucking on one pebbled nipple, your moans fill your ears, pressure building between your legs. When he pushes up to his knees looking over you like he can’t get his fill, you can’t help but stare at him with open mouth, too. He’s carved like an ancient statue, except for his beautiful cock that looks… heavy… is the only word that comes to mind.

“You can close your mouth now, amore.” He throws your words from last night back at you.

Suddenly his hand comes under your back and he pulls you up to straddle him, his cock aligned with your core already and you can’t help but moan loudly from the sensation.

“When you are looking at me from above like this, it’s my favorite view in the whole world, princessa.” Impatiently you push yourself onto his cock and you can’t help the moan that escapes your mouth. But the sound he makes when you take him all the way in will forever be burned into your mind.

You hold on to his strong shoulders as you move on top of him, enjoying the sensations of him filling your pussy, his eyes burning patterns on your chest, face, his strong hand gripping your hip.

“Lord, the sounds you make. I’m not going to be able to forget those anytime soon.” His voice is raspy in your ear.

While you are lost in the clouds of bliss, he grabs both of your hands and holds them behind your back, changing the angle and causing you to arch your back, pushing your tits into his mouth.

As if floating on clouds, you feel the breeze pick up and see the thin curtains flying all around you, exposing you to the outside world, but you can’t focus on anything else, just the pleasure filling your soul.

The feeling of his cock so perfectly filling you, your wrists held behind your back with his hand, the floating curtains caressing your sensitive skin, his gaze worshipping you from below, your world shatters and you fall into your orgasm, trusting him to catch you and hold you through it.

He hugs you close when he feels your pussy clench and your body shivers subside, burying his face into your neck. You feel his short breaths, quiet growls and whimpers as he loses himself in you too.

You stay tightly entwined for a few moments, then he looks up at you and says:

“You are divine when you cum on top of me like that, principessa. I hope this is not the last time you give me the honors of seeing that look on your face, because I might be addicted already.”

I struggled a little bit with this one, but I still loved writing it. As always, thank you for reading, hope you liked it. 🖤

@wxnterwidow333 hope you are not crying now and thank you to everyone for the encouragement on the first part of the story. 🖤

If you want more: 🖤here🖤

Divider by me: @hereindreamlandpng

[4pfsukuna]

California king bed

Debrief: its 1:12am and neither you or satoru can sleep, Suguru has a solution.

Warning: satoru is a sore looser who sucks at rock, paper, scissors. Satosugu x Black coded reader.

Suguru stirs slightly in his sleep when he hears your soft giggles. He was never a rough sleeper but  he loved laying in the California king sized bed lovers not far, to him this was peace. A lazy Wednesday afternoon when it's raining the soft pitter patter of rain hitting the window Gojos long ass leg thrown over you and him—

—your r&b playing as he alternates between running a thumb over his calf and leaving soft little kisses on your temple curls that slipped out from under your purple satin scarf tickling his chin. He knows your scarf is going to slide off soon and you’d complain all morning so he adjust it eyes half lidded.

But it wasn’t Wednesday afternoon, it was Sunday morning approximately 1:12 am, the pitch black being illuminated by the glow of Satorus  bright blue eyes and the slight bickering of you two.

It's when he hears Gojo suck his teeth and “no, best 2 out of 3” the soft clicks of your acrylic nails and then “wait princess 3 out of 5” that he hears your giggle again.

“You're hogging him and I want my time” he hears Satoru whine before he feels your body press further into him. There's the strong scent of your vanilla lotion and caramel scented leave in conditioner followed by a cool breeze in the room but he knows thats absolutely not the reason you moved closer.

“So what! you lost at rock paper scissors 7 times im not sharing so you can cuddle him, fuck you” he hears you whisper yell to the snow haired man and his eyes snap open. You two were up disrupting his sleep with a fucking rock paper scissors game to see who got to cuddle him?! 

He felt his eye twitch…twice before a smile falls on his face and before he knows it he’s laughing ending the bickering between you two. You two were the biggest idiots and had a strange way of making him feel so loved. You both wanted him? 

You both wanted him.

Oftentimes in your relationship he felt he was fighting Satoru for your attention and oh did that man have a slick way of getting exactly what he wanted. He’d pout and huff and puff and he was equally in love with satoru so he knew once the man got pouty it was hard to not give him his way, hard not to bend to his wants.

But hearing you fight Satoru to be close to Suguru? He only wishes he let it go on a bit longer. He craved your affection.

Rolling on his back he looks over at the two of you seeing the pure love and adoration in both your eyes he can’t help the way his heart skips a beat. 

“If i sleep in the middle will you two shut up?” He asks teasingly, pulling you from the middle to his left side letting you curl up and throw your leg over his thick thighs. He pays you no mind as you stick your tongue out at Satoru before yanking him closer, his head immediately resting on Sugurus' chest directly across from yours, flicking your tongue.

“I could hollow purple your tongue right now and—“ he begins his empty threat until you roll your eyes and cut him off making sure your leg brushes his.

“You wouldn’t! You like the thing i do with my tongue” you smirk closing your eyes feeling  Suguru plant a gentle kiss on your forehead.  

“What?! She threatened me and mmpph—“ you peek an eye open to see Suguru pressing his lips against Satoru watching how he melts into it all fight dying on his tongue any leftover battle being licked out by Sugurus tongue. 

The dark haired man pulls him down to his chest and you watch as Satoru complys looks overly contempt with himself closing his eyes. He hums when your hand finds a way to his hair nails on his scalp, his fluffy white hair covering your hand.

Suguru watches the whole interaction fighting to keep his eyes open and admires the both of you falling asleep in a pile of tangled limbs and love for another, there's no place he'd rather be. 

So yes he might like wednesday but he also loves Sundays at 1am during the spring  when both of his lovers are curled into his sides blocking him from leaving the California king sized bed.

 He loves Sundays at 1am during the spring when you’re dressed in nothing but his oversized tshirt and Satoru is in a deep sleep occasionally squeezing him or curling more into his side.

He loves Sunday at 1am during the spring when it’s still dark outside, still quiet… still. Because he has several more hours in bed with both of you, more time to get rest, more time to admire you both, more time to love and feel loved as he pulls the both of you closer. 

Sinking further into the pillows he lets sleep takeover the glow of the city 20 floors down from the penthouse lost behind the black out curtains, the city sounds of cars and horns lost from so high up the only sound is breathing and the steady thumping you hear of Sugurus heartbeat.

[lale-txt]

what gets their heart pounding... ♡ [partly ns.fw] ↳ w/ Gojo, Geto, Nanami & Shiu

a/n: reader is gn! i've written these kinds of hcs for OP in the past and i am just so weak for the mix of fluff and a lil bit (a whole lot) spice (´⌣`ʃƪ) part two is already in the drafts, hehe

❦ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

discovering the snack drawer you keep for him at your place, because you know he has a sweet tooth and you want him to feel at home

when you lift his blindfold to gaze into his eyes, unaware that he’s drowning in yours as well

feeling how small your hands are compared to his when he interlaces his fingers with yours, your thumb drawing small circles on his skin while he holds your hand

the same hand wrapping around his length, a little greedy even, your thumb now rubbing over his dripping tip in a way that feels familiar

the small gasp you let out every damn time when he finally presses into you until he’s fully inside, your eyes fluttering open for a heartbeat until they close in bliss again till he starts moving

the vivid memory of you sinking your teeth into every part of him within your reach, trying to muffle your moans (you’re at school after all), and seeing his skin bloom with your tiny love bites the day after

❦ 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎

when you play absentmindedly with his hair while he rests his head in your lap on this hot summer day, both of you seeking out the shadows of the gingko trees 

the sweet sound of your laughter, the one you only let out when it’s just the two of you and no one else around

wearing your scrunchie on his wrist because he tends to forget his hair ties often (you both know he doesn’t, he just wants an excuse to keep something that belongs to you so you’ll always come back to him)

the stolen kisses and how you part your lips for him so willingly, as if you want to invite his whole being into you 

your fingers tangled in his hair while he pushes you against the nearest wall, your legs wrapped tightly around his hips, your panties still dangling from your ankle while he keeps thrusting inside of you 

finding said panties in the pocket of his jacket the day after, the scent of yours still sticking to them, as well as the promise that you’ll meet again soon

❦ 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈

seeing all the bakeries all over town you pinned for you two to visit together when you have a day off

the ways your eyes light up outside of the shop windows already, pointing at all the baked goods you want to try with him, knowing it’s not about the food but about spending time together over something you both love

your thumb brushing over the corner of his mouth to wipe away a crumb, only for your lips to meet his shortly after in a gentle kiss

the longing in your eyes when you watch him undress, needy mewls when he takes his sweet time to hang up his suit neatly, unbuttoning his shirt slowly until you grow impatient and reach out to help him with hungry hands

your fingertips on his skin, exploring every inch of muscle as if he was carved from marble, and your lips trailing down his abs, your breath so hot and heavy on his skin

seeing you melt under his praise when you unbuckle his belt to free his aching cock, only to take it down your throat so, so deeply until your face is nuzzled against his trimmed happy trail

❦ 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐔

your name popping up on his phone display, texting him at random times of the day to tell him how much you miss him while he’s busy with clients, you being sweetly unaware how much it means to him

hearing you laugh softly when he calls you by your favorite pet name, knowing how easily he can charm you like that

seeing you wear the expensive gifts he got you, fingers sliding over the necklace around your throat as if to claim you as his and his only

your tongue swirling around his fingertips when he slides them in your mouth, eyes pinned on you while he cups your chin with his other hand, knowing you want to be good for him

how greedily you stick out your tongue to swallow his spit, eyes pleading him to make a mess out of you, one to remember

the sounds of flesh on flesh echoing from every wall when you get on your hands and knees for him, as if your insides were molded just for him

[neowinestainedress]

IM BEGGING ABT SUB!JISUNG WHO IS VERY PASSIVE AND RECEPTIVE PLEASEEE 😭😭😭

w!: femdom, orgasm control/denial, pegging, overstimulation, dom!reader, sub!jisung. no use of y/n, no physical description (no body type, hair, skin color etc)

a/n: if last year someone told me that my first writing post of 2024 would've been a jisung ���drabble” i would've laughed at their face but here we are. i'm struggling to write lately so PLEASE please if you liked it let me know and reblog so more people can read it. enjoy!

Jisung would do anything for you. Or, well, to be more accurate, he would do anything to please you. 

You can’t name what you two share; if you did, you’d probably call it a tangle of messy bedsheets, wet lip kisses, and whispered moans. But there is something holding you two together. 

“Please, please, you can’t,” he stutters through gritted teeth. His head is rolled back, resting against the bedframe, damp hair sticks to his handsome face that’s tinted a bright red, and his hips jerk uncontrollably against your hand. 

“I can’t, what? Jisung,” you reply with a slight stern edge in your voice. Your hand stops at the base of his throbbing dick, leaking a copious amount of pre-cum, rolling down his length until it meets your palm. 

“No-nothing, I’m – I’m sorry, ma’am, I’m sorry,” he mumbles shaking his head. 

“Good,” you smile smugly. “Cause you don’t make the rules here, I do.” 

“Yes, yes, you do,” he hums closing his eyes as he tries to concentrate on his breathing. 

“And I don’t see why I should let you come so soon when you look so pretty for me,” you tease and notice how he almost glares at you before he quickly turns his disappointment into a frown. 

So soon. 

You’ve been edging him for at least 30 minutes; chasing his build-up just to crash it, ruining every chance of an orgasm right in front of his face, the promise of being pegged slipping more and more away. 

It’s not a punishment. You know it, and he knows it, too. He loves this. He loves when you’re all over him, your soft left hand crazing his skin while the right one moves with quick motions on his hard dick. Your lips leaving kisses like brushes of a feather on his sensible neck. The strong tug of your fingers in his black, long hair, making him hiss. 

And you love this, too. Jisung reacts perfectly at each snap of your finger. He’s so delicate as soon as you enter your private bubble and leave the world outside, crumbling at your feet like a sandcastle. His clothes are quickly on the floor as he lets you guide you to the bed where he lets you do anything you please. And all it takes to make him fall apart is you touching him. Your hands on his burning skin set him on fire, and elicit raspy begs for “more” following calls of your name as his pleading eyes look into yours. 

“You’re so pretty, you know?” You will never get tired of reminding him that when his eyes light up at each compliment. “My pretty boy.” 

“Yeah, yours,” he replies, voice slurred. You’re sure by the end of the night it will be completely hoarse. 

He’s doing everything he can to hold the nth orgasm in. He hates to fail, especially with you. He has to keep it together. But you’re not doing anything to help him. 

You lean over, pressing your arms together, pushing your boobs closer, the soft curves bulging out of your skin-tight top. Jisung wants to die. He needs to touch you, but you don’t let him, not now. It’s your turn to have fun, he’s just a toy in your hands right now, he has to watch and take. But he can’t endure it any longer. 

“You’re making a mess, babe,” you pout, looking between his legs. “I can’t let you come or else you’ll make even worse.” 

“No, no, please, I – I won’t, it’s too much,” he cries out. 

“Okay, then,” you say. You watch his eyes light up, a sigh of relief bolt over his face, just for it to drop as soon as your hand leaves his body. His eyes panic, he doesn’t even dare to look down to confirm your hand is not there anymore. You’ve done it again. 

“No, please,” Jisung whines. This time he can’t hide his annoyance. 

“I thought you wanted my dick,” you say, tilting your head to the side. 

“Yes but,” he almost sobs, “that will make me come as soon as… you know…” he whispers, too shy to say it loud, looking away. 

“Mhh, no, I fear I don’t know.” 

“God, why are you like this?” 

“Excuse me?” You scold. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, but… I, I need to come. You’ve edged me for so long, I will… I will come as soon as you enter me if I don’t, and you won’t let me come that easily.” 

This is not a punishment. So, yes, he has a point. You do have a lot of fun doing this, watching him struggle to keep it together as you fuck into him. However, today is not the day. 

Without adding a word, your hand is back around his dick, moving up and down quickly. The sudden movement makes him gasp and he has to contain himself to don’t squeal in exactment. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he mumbles before the only things coming out of his mouth are moans. His hips buckle against you, desperately chasing the long awaited high. 

“Come on, let go,” you order, and before his brain can even register the sound, he comes undone in your hands. White cum spurts over your hand, arms and his abs, making a mess like predicted, but you don’t stop, milking him until there’s nothing left behind and he has to beg you to stop. 

“Good boy,” you praise, stopping your movements before leaning close. “Calm down, you did great.” Your words make him smile, but he still leans in for a kiss. “You can touch me,” you mumble in the kiss when you notice his hesitating hands lingering close to your body, and you don’t need to repeat yourself. 

Jisung pulls you closer, kneading the skin of your hips, long fingers pressing into your skin. He’s a bit aggressive sometimes without noticing, his eagerness makes him clumsy, but you don’t care, that’s another thing you like about him. 

“Do you still want me to fuck you?” You ask when you pull away, reaching for the bedside table to grab a napkin and clean yourself. 

“Yes, please, I wanted you all day, you’ve been driving me crazy,” he says, getting ready to lay on his back. 

He didn’t lie, you did tease him all day long. You were quite surprised you made it home and didn’t end up doing it in the car. 

His hungry eyes burn on you as you undress and slip in the strap-on. It makes you feel so powerful as you stare down at his bare figure, laying powerless on the mattress. 

“You’re so hot,” Jisung whispers, face catching fire as soon as you look at him and smile. He’s so shy and embarrassed; your favorite type to mess with. 

When your lube-covered fingers slip into his tight hole, his head rolls back as he traps his lower lip between his teeth to not let out pathetic moans. 

“Is this all you need? My fingers?” 

“You’re good,” he stutters. “You’re too good.” 

You grin. You know you are. 

As you get him ready to take your dick, you let your fingers slide deep inside and curl up just as he likes it, slow and nice, to let him feel everything. 

You get drunk in his low moans, muffled by the arm he put on top of his mouth to don’t sound so desperate, and the way his dick is hardening again, slowly throbbing on his defined abs. 

“You think you’re ready for me?” 

Jisung nods enthusiastically. “Yes, I always am. Please, fuck me,” he begs, hands reaching out to touch you. 

“If you say so,” you smile, pulling your fingers out of him, making him groan in disappointment. 

You pour a generous amount of lube on your strap and push it against his entrance. One hand runs under the back of his thigh to pull him closer as the other grabs the base of the dildo to start pushing into him. 

As you slide inside, your eyes don’t leave his. Your heart races as you watch him fight to keep his eyes open (you want him to look at you when you do this) but he succeed, cause he’s just too good. 

“Touch me,” you order when you bottom in. He’s tired, completely consumed by lust, but he listens without wasting a second. His hands cup your boobs, starting to pleasure you as you slowly move out of him. He knows how much you love his hands, and he does all the tricks he knows you love; playing with your nipples, squeezing them, cupping the soft flesh. “Good boy,” you praise. 

But it’s hard to be so good when you pick up a steady rhythm. 

“You’re big,” he cries out as his head rolls back and his lips part to let out louder moans. 

“But you can take me, can’t you?” You tease, but behind your words hides genuine concern. He has this habit of rushing into things because he’s greedy. 

“Yes, yes, I can do anything for you,” he replies, nodding swiftly. 

“Good,” you hum. When you lean closer to kiss him, his hands wrap around your shoulders to pull you closer. His hips roll against you, messily trying to meet you halfway, and before you realize, his legs wrap around your body. 

“Somebody’s more eager than usual today,” you grin, brushing his wet black hair behind. 

“I’m – I’m sorry, I want you so bad.” 

“I’m right here,” you assure, kissing his cheek. “Do you want it harder?” 

Words struggle to come out and the only thing he can do is nod quickly. You straighten your back and then your hands grab his waist to pull him closer to you. The new position allows you to fuck faster into him, the harsh slam of your hips against his soft legs creating the vulgar sounds of skin loudly resonating in the room. 

“Please, please,” he moans, his voice so deep and hoarse it hits you straight to the core. “Wanna come, please, please, I’ll be good.” 

You quirk a brow. “Will you?” 

“Yes,” he nods enthusiastically. “I’ll take another one, I’ll take – I’ll take everything you have to give me, but please, let me come,” he begs. His eyes stare into yours, and your heart skips a bit at his clumped wet lashes, tears are pooled at the corner and you know with this orgasm they will flow like rivers on his cheeks. 

“Fine, you can come,” you say. Your hands clench harder around his waist, causing his skin to redden, but he barely feels it, too concentrated on the pleasure your fast thrusts are giving him. You don’t even need to touch his dick before he comes undone for the second time, shaking uncontrollably in your hands as the cum covers his lower abdomen. 

But this time you don’t slow down when he’s done, your movements are steady and leave him breathless. 

“Fuck,” he screams, fingers desperately reaching for you, and one of your hands intertwines with his fingers. But the soft gesture doesn’t match the ruthlessness of your movements. 

“You’re a mess,” you point out, kissing him. The tears are streaming down his face, his lips are plump from the torture he applied with his teeth, his hair is a mess, and his chest is rising fast. 

“But – but you like me,” he struggles to say, “you still like me, right? Please, tell me —fuck— tell me you still like me.” 

You smile, caressing his burning cheek. “Of course, I do. You’re my beautiful mess, right?” 

“Yes, yeah, I’m yours, I’m yours, I’m only —mmph— only yours,” he mutters. 

“Yeah, mine,” you say, cupping his face before pulling him into a deep, long kiss. 

Jisung’s hands run on your back, his short nails scratch your skin but you don’t mind, instead, you start moving even faster, pushing him close to the edge again. 

“Not again,” he cries, pleading eyes looking up at you. 

“You promised,” you remind him. 

He sniffles, trying to clean up the mess on his face with the palm of his hand but only makes it worse. “But – but it’s too much, I can’t last long– longer.” 

“We better make it quick, then.” 

His eyes light up. “Wa-wait, I can – I can come again?” 

You nod. 

“Ca-can you help – help me?” 

“Nope, no hands, babe. Don’t act like it’s hard for you.” 

“But –” 

Your stern gaze stops him in his tracks, and he simply nods. His eyes widen when you start teasing his nipples, and you both know it’s going to be even easier for him to come this time. And as expected in a few seconds he’s making a mess again. His moans are so messy and loud you’re surprised the neighbor didn’t come knock on your door yet. 

“Fuck, fuck, God,” he cries loudly, hiding his face with the pillow that he’s holding so tight his knuckles are going white. “Please, please, I – I, fuck, fuck.” His words are an incoherent mess, and more and more strings of white lay where the others are dried up by now. “Too much, too much, ma’am, can’t, no more.” 

You slow down while your hands caress his waist to soothe him, but his breathing is still frenetic and mumbles are coming out of his mouth. 

“You did great, you did such a good job,” you whisper, moving the corner of the pillow out of his face, forcing him to let go, and caressing his burning face. “Let me kiss you.” 

After the kiss you slip out of him completely and the emptiness makes him whine loudly. Once you’re out of the strap, you reach him with a glass of water and watch as he gulps it quickly. 

“Color?” You ask. You still haven’t come, and you need it. But he has already done so much you don’t want to push him over the edge. 

He slumps back on the bed, and you’re ready to hear a “red” but he surprises you. “Green, but I – I need just a few seconds to calm down. You’re too – too good at this,” he chuckles, blushing bright red. 

You smile, caressing his face. “You can use your fingers if you’re too stimulated.” 

He shakes his head. “No, I – I want you to feel you, please.” 

You chuckle at how he’s already in that mood again, ready to beg and do anything to make you feel good and make you proud of him. 

“Are you ready?” You ask as you straddle his lap. 

Jisung gulps and then nods, letting his hands rest on your hips. “I just – I can’t promise I’ll last long.” 

“It’s alright. Touch yourself, get yourself hard for me.” 

His right hand leaves your side to wrap around his soft dick, and as soon as his fingers come in contact with his skin he jerks up. He’s so fucking sensitive. And he knows he might’ve flown too close to the sun, but he doesn’t want to back down. 

He rarely gets to be inside of you, and he loves it, especially when he’s so stimulated. Will he turn into a mess in two seconds again? Yes. Does he care? No.

“Go slowly,” you say, watching as his big hand slides up and down his length. His long fingers shake every time he comes close to the sensitive tip and a strangled moan gets trapped in his throat. 

“Do – do you like this? Am I being good for you?” He asks with a shaking voice, eyes desperately seeking your validation. 

You nod. “So good. Just a few more, babe.” 

He hums, swallowing again as he tries to fight himself to not get close to another orgasm. But you’re not cruel, you just need him to get hard again. 

“Enough,” you order, making him stop immediately. His hand goes back on your body and his hard dick throbs against his abs. “Are you ready for me?” 

“Yes, I am, please, fuck me,” Jisung begs, grinding his hips against you. 

You snicker, shaking your head. “So greedy. After everything we did, you still want more.” 

“Yes, I need you. And I – I want you to feel good.” 

You need that too. Seeing him fall apart on your strap got you weak in your knees, and now you need to come. You know you won’t last long either when you’ve been on the edge all night. 

When you slide on top of him, his hips buck up, making you choke on a moan. “Jisung,” you scold. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “Please, use me.” 

And you do. You start to move up and down, feeling him fill you up, reaching so deep inside of you.  

“Touch me,” you order. “You know how I like it.” 

Jisung is lost in his haze, the afterglow of before mixing with the lust of this moment is getting completely in his head and this simple task seems impossible, but he always gives you what you want and ask for. 

So, even if not so quickly, his fingers reach your clit. When he starts rubbing it in swift circles, you see stars, and you know it won’t take long to fall apart. 

“You’re so wet, and feel so – so good,” he cries out. The way you squeeze around him is driving him insane, stimulating him like never before. “I need you, can you – can you kiss me? I won’t – I won’t stop I promise.” 

You don’t reply, and simply lean in to give him what he wants. His movements stop for a brief second but restart shortly after. Your moans blend in the kiss as your hand reaches his hair to tug on it, earning a low grunt from him. 

“You like it when I treat you roughly, don’t you?” You pull away just enough to get a glimpse of his face before tugging again, watching as his lips part to set free an even deeper moan. 

“Ye-yes, you can – you can do whatever you want with me,” he mumbles. 

“I know, honey, I know,” you grin before kissing him again. This time it’s rough and desperate, taking his breath away. 

When you pull away to have more room to move on top of him, your hand places on his chest before running up to reach his neck. Your thumb runs over his neck, caressing his adam’s apple as it bobs in his throat. He reached the limit. He’s holding on to make you feel good but you can see he’s pushing himself for you. There’s nothing in his eyes, just lust and need to release. His moans are loud and incoherent, and his hips pathetically try to meet you halfway. And when your hand wraps around his neck, he loses it. 

“Mhh, please, please,” he starts begging, his words sounding even more embarrassing muffled by your hand restricting the flow of air in his lung. The hand that is not working on you clenches hard around your waist, his nails leaving marks on your skin. “Need you, please.” 

“I’m right here.” 

Jisung cries, shaking his head. “Need you to – to come. Please, come with me. I’m – I’m good, right? You – you are close.” 

“You think so?” You tease. 

And he almost starts sobbing. “Yeah,” he cries in a snarl. “I know I – I make you feel good. I’m good for you, I know I am, please, tell me I’m – I’m your good toy.” 

You’d love to play with him more, but he’s at his breaking point, and even if all of this is playful you can see he’s far too deep in subspace and any degrading word might hit him too close. 

“You are,” you whisper, letting go of his neck to kiss him. “You’re my good boy. And since you’re my good boy —fuck— you will come with me, right?” 

“Yes, yes, I – I will, please, yes, yes,” he replies, reaching for your lips again. 

“Come with me.” 

“Oh, fuck,” he moans. “Thank you, thank you, fuck, thank you so – so much,” he mumbles breathlessly, words mixing with groans and whimpers as both of your orgasm break through. Your movements falter as the pleasure gets to your head and you finally let go of the built-up pressure, but you still ride him until you make sure you’re both done. 

And when you’re sure there’s nothing more to take and give, you collapse on his body. 

“Stay,” Jisung murmurs, wrapping his arms around your back when you try to roll to the side. “Please, stay,” his voice shakes, and a sob rolls from his tongue. 

“Jisung?” You ask worriedly, lifting your head to look at him. 

“I’m fine, I just…” he sniffles, “I… I want to feel you, and…cuddle some more.” 

You smile, letting out a sigh of relief. “Can I at least slip out of you?” 

He nods, and you slowly get off him. “You have cum everywhere, can I clean you up?” 

“No. I mean, yes, but not now, can we… can we just cuddle? I need you.” 

He’s still into his subspace and you won’t pull him out of there. You know he will fall asleep in that mess, but you can take care of that later. 

“Come here, rest your head against my chest,” you say, laying at his side, opening your arms so he can cuddle between them. “Is this alright?” 

“Perfect,” he mutters, nuzzling against your bare chest. “You smell good.” 

“Well, thanks, but I’d say I smell like sex.” 

“Mhh,” he whispers. “Thank you for taking care of me.” 

“It’s nothing, I have fun with you, and I like you.” 

He hums, and then some seconds of silence follow before the loudest thing he can say slips from his lips. “I love you.” 

You still, body stiffening, and look down. “You… what?” 

“I think I love you,” he replies nonchalantly, voice muffled by your chest. 

You can’t find the words to reply and, in your heart, you don’t know. “I don’t… I don’t know how to react. I think you’re confused.” 

You feel him shake his head, and you wonder how conscious he is. 

“I think we should… mhh, maybe talk about this tomorrow,” you say, trying to keep it cool, but you know he can feel your heart beating an abnormal amount inside your rib. 

“Fine,” he whispers, holding you closer. “Just don’t leave.” 

You gulp and look down. And as you watch Jisung’s body relax as he succumbs to sleep; his long lashes sitting on his rosy cheeks, his long hair framing his handsome face, his plump lips slightly parted puffing hair, you think to yourself you’re screwed. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t leave.” 

© neowinestaindress; all rights reserved. do NOT repost, modify, or translate any work from this blog on any other platform and claim it as yours. you can find my works on ao3 (neowinestaindress) and wattpad (winestaintedress_; currently inactive).

[jilixthinker]

mr. gorgeous

=͟͟͞♡ felix × fem!reader

=͟͟͞♡ runway felix

word count: 1.1K

content warning: explicit sexual content, oral sex (m receiving), dirty talk, deepthroating, balls slapping (just once)

a/c: i wrote this in 45 minutes and i honestly don't have much to add except that this is what i want to do to him for the rest of my life

=͟͟͞♡ please, consider reblogging if you like my works!

"Please. Please, m-more."

Felix is panting heavily, perfect face flushed with a thin layer of sweat and lipgloss impercettibely smudged on the corner of his lips.

You couldn't even wait to the end of the evening for this, your legs rubbing viciously to ease the tension of seeing Felix, the Felix, walking the runway. And that's why you pulled him with you to the bathroom, not even giving him the chance to repost every single sponsor on his instgram page.

And here you are, tongue lolling out of your mouth, kneeling on the most fancy restroom you will ever have the chance to see in your entire life, easing Felix's pink and chubby cock into the heath of your throat.

Felix is still completely dressed up, gorgeous silver pants hugging his perfect slim legs and white shirt just a litte too tight for the deep breaths he is taking. He brings his hands to the back of you head and you can feel the fluffy sleeves caressing the frame of your face.

"You were so fucking sexy, my angel." you whisper on his groin as you bite a little red mark on the sensitive skin near his base. The sweet scent of body lotion and sweat tangled up in his thick pubic hair is making your head spin.

"Love, baby– ah, fuck. We have n-no time." he moans painfully, slender back arched deliciously against the door of the bathroom you sneaked in. "C-cannot make a mess in these."

Your legs are hurting in this position, your short dress not giving you any help in easing the sting of being on your knees. But you love it nonetheless. You feel like worshipping him, and being like this is the only way you can show him how much you love him, how much you want him.

"Better be quick and clean, then." you mutter as you take Felix's hands and bring them to your hair in a makeshift ponytail. "Wanna feel you all deep, angel, don't hold back."

You lower you face, sniffing at the freckled skin and mouthing at his shaft before grabbing the base of his cock with two of your fingers. Felix hisses your name in a raspy tone, and you cup his balls with your other hand.

When you suckle on the tip you can feel Felix's thigh muscles contracting, and a generous dribble of precum gushes out of his slit to coat your tongue. You take the hint and you allow the whole head in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and slurping the warm liquid down your throat.

"You taste amazing. Been pent up as soon as I saw you coming in." you admit, rolling one humid ball in your hand and nosing it before you can suck that in your mouth as well. Felix keens and his head bumps against the door.

"Do you know how hard I had to press my legs together to avoid wetting the fucking chair, my love? Thinking about you coming down my throat and giving me all of your cum until it spills out of my mouth?" you say warmly, taking his cock in a firm fist and letting the red tip hit twice your cheek.

Felix gulps and you think you want to suck his neck as well. But you can't now. That is for later.

You force your tongue out of your mouth and you present it to him, keeping it still and firm.

"Oh f-fuck. Can I? C-can I really?" he asks with his eyes glassy.

You nod accommodatingly, sticking out your tongue as much as you can and feeling your pussy throb and pulsing around nothing. You would give anything in the world to slam Felix down and ease his cock into you, but this is not the time. Now it's for him.

Felix gulps again and gives you a few taps on the hand holding him, letting it fall neatly on your thighs. He looks at you in the eye and curses softly at the view. "Thank you." he pants out, teeth biting the fat of his bottom lip.

And then he grips his length and he slaps his cockhead against your tongue. He does it once, twice. A spurt of white liquid shoots out of him and he uses his engorged tip to spread it on your lips. You moan at the sticky sensation and another gush of slick coats your panties.

He slaps his cock on your wet muscle a few more times before his hips buck forward and you curl your fingers around the base of his length once again. Felix lets out a shuddering breath, and with a quick movement you sink your head down to engulf the entirety of him.

"Baby, please. Please, I am almost there." he whispers as you go back to suckle on his tip and you use your hand to pump the rest.

"Wanna shoot in my mouth, angel? Make me drink your cum as it was a fucking cocktail?" you ask, continuing to bob your head and swirl your tongue around the underside of his heavy cock up to the head.

"Y-yes," he slurs out. "Wanna fill your stomach, please baby. P-please let me."

You smile around his girth and you take him down your throat once again, letting it reach the back as deep as you can and forcing yourself to swallow. Felix hips jolt and you relax yourself to accomodate his entire lenght inside of your mouth, your hand coming back to cup his humid balls and give them a gentle smack.

It takes just a few minutes of you gurgling around Felix's cock for him to start blabbering nosense, and as you feel him hitting the back of your throat with a decise thrust, you swallow again, choking his lenght with a tight heat.

"Oh, fuck, baby, that's it– G-gonna cum." he manages to whisper as his hot white cum starts to shoot in your mouth and leak down your throat. You keep hollowing your cheeks and milk him by squeezing his balls until you feel the last drop of his seed gushing out of his slit.

"Oh my God." he moans, back hitting the door for one last time and cock beginning to soften in your mouth.

You give him one last kitten lick to clean him up and then you tuck him back inside his shiny expensive pants.

"You don't even know what I am gonna do to you when we'll be back home, Mr. Gorgeous".

©️ jilixthinker, 2024. please do not copy, translate, or republish my works anywhere.

[raayllum]

a/n: set after 6x06 and heavily references 6x03 bc they were blessings

Sometime after they stop kissing — alright, they don't really stop, but languid silences, soft giggling, and sweet nothings fill some of the space in between kisses as they curl up together on his bed in the Starscraper — Callum asks, "So, what were you crying about on the Ray of Illumination?"

The sun is rising above the sea of clouds outside their bedroom window, and for a moment he regrets bringing up anything potentially sad, both of them happier than they've been in years, honestly. They have everything they need for her parents, his connection to Aaravos has been severed, the light and truth of her love filling the cracks in his heart, instead, and finally, finally she knows that his heart has always belonged to her. That it always will.

But he's always been curious, and he's always wanted to sooth whatever's troubling her, fix whatever is breaking her heart, and she'd had a good deal to cry over just a couple weeks ago — maybe even something from the last two years apart — and... he wants to know. He wants to help.

And, slowly, he thinks she's getting to a place where she wants him to be able to, where she'll let him.

"Oh, um..." Rayla averts her eyes, fingers tangled with his, but her smile doesn't dim. She sticks her tongue in her cheek. "It's a bit silly, really."

"Still." He uses his free hand to brush his thumb over the curve of her cheek, the blue bend of her marking, where he knows the tears would've fallen.

"Just an old diary written by the captain. Esme something. Stella pushed it open." Rayla scoots a bit closer and Callum lets go of her hand to wrap his arm around her, more than happy to give into her desire to be held; he never feels more at peace than when he's holding her, now more than ever.

The bump of the tip of his nose against hers as a gentle prod. "And?"

Rayla turns her face down, his lips brushing her brow, but he can still tell she's worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. He wants to angle his face down and kiss that worry away, draw her lips to his, but refrains. They have plenty of time, after all. To kiss, and rest, and prepare for their journey. It's close to dawn now, and Callum knows they won't leave till the day after tomorrow at least — they need supplies for the journey to the Nexus, recover from their trials, and to say goodbye to their new friends here.

Finally, Rayla explains, "She was writing during the last days of her life, on that ship I guess. About a man she left behind. Her one true love, Conrad."

"Oh." Callum pulls her further into a hug on instinct, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Just... resonated with me," she nearly sniffles, laughing weakly, but her smile is real and reaches her eyes when he glances down to check. "I'm sure you can imagine why."

"Lots of stuff about what she would've said if she saw him again?"

"Mmhm."

"Think I can relate to that too," he hums, giving her forehead another kiss. "I love you, Rayla," he repeats for what might be the millionth time that day, but he already knows he can never say it enough. He's always known that. "I'm so glad you came back."

She wraps her arms tighter around his torso, cuddling in closer, tension ebbing out of her and face half pressed to his scarf. "I'm so happy you're here, Callum," she sighs warmly.

"Always." He strokes her hair, wondering if she'll fall asleep like this—it always got her a little drowsy in the past—or if she'll let him weave her braid for her one of these days, musing, and then... "The Captain's name wasn't Esmerelda Skall, was it?"

Rayla lifts her head, brow furrowed adorably. "Er, yeah, it was. Why? How do you know that?"

"She was a famous explorer in the Human Kingdoms. Charted out a lot of our maps up north. My Dad—King Harrow—took me on a diplomatic mission once to Del Bar, where she's from, when I was eleven or twelve." There's a warm, content feeling blooming in his chest that he'll get to give her closure on this, too, somehow. "Conrad founded a town near the capitol and served as mayor. He named it after her. He loved her all his life—put a grave marker for her next to his when he died and everything."

Rayla's "Oh" comes out choked and small, but her smile is wide as she blinks back tears. "That's—that's beautiful. I guess he really—"

"—loved her?" Callum finishes, curling two fingers under her chin to lift her face for a moment. Then he brushes away the real tears trickling over, drawing her further into his snug embrace. Her breath is beautifully warm as it fans over his lips before he kisses her, soft and firm. "Yes. I really do."

[adarkandmagicalforest]

once again

pairing: Benjicot Blackwood/Original Female Character (Elma Bracken)

warnings: smut, cum-eating, sex in a godswood

third installment: hunted/hunter

It went further than his tongue that morning.

She wasn't even sure how it started. He'd come across her on Bracken land, where a weirwood was partially enclosed by wild hedges of blueberries and thorny brambles. As if the weather hardened plants dared not to go closer to the tree that the old gods lived within. Elma had been widdling a few walking sticks she'd found in her exploration while her horse helped himself to the berry bushes, the peace of the morning calming her.

And then he'd appeared in the little grotto, that hateful (lustful) shimmer to his eyes.

Then Elma was clutching at his back, holding onto his clothes as he drove harder and faster into her at her demand.

Soon enough the sound of them - the wet, sloppy, filthy, sinful noise of his hips slapping against her skin was filling this haphazardly made godswood with the noise. But neither of them appeared to hear it. Because the sensation, the feeling of hot flesh and kissing so rough that surely they were splitting their lips on each others teeth as they made to devour one another, was too heated, too dazzling to ignore.

But the Bracken had to pull herself away, had to part their lips so she could gasp for air and to also hotly gasp out, "Fuck - more, it's coming, I'm going to - " 

And Benjicot had instead pulled back, now on his knees so his wildly blown out eyes could look down upon her with a snarl as he gave her all the more, the vile, soaking wet sound clapping loudly until;

"Oh!" Elma choked out, grabbing the front of his black shirt for purchase as her peak hit her powerfully enough to make her shout out, "Oh, oh, Ben!" 

He'd filled her instantly, his cock shooting his cum deep inside of her too quickly for him to pull out to finish onto the grass. She should have thought that revolting, truly disgusting that he'd done such a thing. His white cum painting her insides until it oozed out of her cunt and down her inner thighs, staining her torn small clothes and her dress too. But it didn't disgust her. Quite oppositely - because she suddenly didn't believe that one peak was not enough.

The Blackwood had paused, temporarily, and was resting with his hot breath against her neck. He was solid and heavy, his weight upon her in a way that satisfied her carnal, unholy and hateful desires.

But still she shoved him off of her, unexpectedly getting him onto his back. 

"You made a mess of me." Elma accused, arousal nearly making her shake, especially when the look of him - shocked, outraged and then just as thoroughly debauched as herself, showcased clearly across his features.

"You deserved it." Ben stated lowly, his dark eyes flickering over her as her thighs straddled his waist. He looked at her with anticipation, though his cock (which had been softening) was now trying with all it's might to regain it's stiffness. It was about half the thickness now, but that's not what she wanted.

"And now you have to clean the damned mess you made." She demanded, moving forward up to press her knees on either side of his shoulders, his own spend dripping out of her and onto his sweaty neck. 

His dark brown eyes met her hazel ones. And then he'd grabbed her by her skirts, yanking them up with such fierce eagerness that she nearly toppled over top of him when he pulled her up to shove his face between her legs. He licked himself out of her cunt, with such wild abandon that Elma had to snatch her hand down to tangle her fingers in his dark hair, holding herself to him while the Blackwood groaned into her cunt.

It took longer to find her peak, she'd had to grind herself hard against his face to find it. Her sensitive cunt, rubbing down against him, the rough, little scratches of his morning stubble prickling her soft skin in a deeply erotic way that she was loathe to stop even when she knew his tongue had cleaned away every drop of his own cum. 

And once he'd finished cleaning his mess, Ben's cock was full and thick, ready to create a whole other mess, if the toothy sneer he gave her (and his grabbing hands) told her anything at all.

This was not a problem, she thought as he took her captive and slammed her down between the sprawling white roots of the weirwood trees. They could stop anytime.

[jaegerbby]

➳ crude intentions

--͙[keigo takami x female! reader]-͙-

╰┈➤ word count; 2280

╰┈➤ rundown; just about everyone loves hawks, except you.

╰┈➤ caution; scumbag! fratboy! hawks, noncon undertones, boob job (they are described as small), size kink, use of bitch, hair pulling, facial, toxic dynamic, mentions of sex with other girls.

hawks- keigo!

it is keigo to you.

who wants to fuck your titties but they are so little.

somehow, he has you stripped bare on his sheets despite not knowing if his door is locked.

it is nothing new to a group of frat boys!

they fuck on a daily, you heard about the countless girls that come to this house in particular. how did you let yourself become one of them?

truthfully, you never had a choice to begin with.

keigo is too big, he is a lot bigger than you and right now you can see it more than ever. he has to hold his weight off your abdomen to avoid crushing you. not that it is difficult when he is so strong.

you already had his mouth all over the flesh of your tits. he has sucked and licked and left the darkest marks. now his cock lays thick and heavy on your sternum.

at one point, you cried and cried but you learnt that crying does not fix anything. it does not stop anything. your head is tilted away, his cock is so long it brushes against your throat.

"you don't have much to work with." he laughs like it is some funny joke. he says it so casually as if he is not violating you for the nth time.

"some of the chicks i fucked." he whistles "their tits were huge, were practically swallowing my dick." you want to vomit.

you want to throw up all over him. you absolutely hate him, you despise him. while other girls thought about getting fucked in 107 positions by hawks, you thought of 107 ways to murder keigo.

the way you glare up at him does nothing to help your case. all he does is grin because it makes him harder. his eyes grow hooded, rough fingers tangling at the roots of your hair. his grip grows tighter and tighter.

you did not want to give him the satisfaction of a reaction but he binds the strands so tight you swear he would rip them out. you shriek, just what he was waiting for. his expression is all too pleased.

"don't get jealous, baby. no one could compare to you. you're my favourite." that means nothing. you do not want that, you do not want to be anything to him.

he gives your hair one firm tug before releasing it. the throbbing in your head has your face contorting in pain. his callous thumb swipes over your lips, applying pressure until you let him in. he does not stop there, no, he never does.

instead he is shoving the digit so deep in your mouth that you gag. it hits the back of your throat so aggressively tears prick your eyes. his eyes widen in a crazed way, taking your jaw into his hold.

"listen to me, stick your tongue out and push your tits together." his thighs strain on either side of you. his cock is red and aching where it bobs on your chest. it begs for attention. from the swollen mushroom tip to the vein throbbing along the underside.

you swallow hard, your arms coming up to push together the mounds on your chest but they are so little they only form a small valley for him. keigo breathes shakily, a curse leaving his mouth.

you expect some smart comment but he surprisingly says nothing. his free hand holds the thick base of his hefty erection and he squeezes hard, teeth gritting. pre cum drips from his slit onto your chest and it is hot compared to your skin.

"stick your fucking tongue out." his hand fists the pillow beside your head as he slightly hunches over you. you do not want to stick your tongue out, you do not want to taste him. he always wants with you, he does not know when to stop. he is already desecrating your body so why does he want more than that?

you hesitate, a sharp breath leaving you before your tongue slips out and your mouth is slightly open. you are terrified. your breasts do not offer much. you would not be surprised if he decides to shove his cock down your throat instead. you desperately hope he does not.

"good." he chokes on the sticky saliva pooling in his mouth "good bitch." good girl, he wanted to say good girl. you deserve better. someone a million times better than him but he will not let anyone else have you.

he presses his tip to your wet muscle, the salty tastes filling your mouth. you lay there, a million things on your mind as he shifts his hips to drag his cock between your barely there chest.

his bulky thighs flex and he borderline whimpers while humping his hips and dragging his cock along your sternum. he relishes in the softness of the flesh that is brushing the sides of his length.

you can only look up at him, with something close to disdain. there are a lot of willing girls with so much more to offer, why does keigo do this to you? his hand roughly caresses your cheek before resting beside your head.

he anchors himself and his thrusts pick up. he humps his aching erection, his leaky cock pulsing along you. he groans endlessly, his lips reddened from all the biting. "feel so fuckin good."

his head presses into your twitching tongue with every fuck of his hips and saliva leaks from your mouth because you do not dare to close it. the web of liquid only growing messier.

above you, keigo is gorgeous. that is incontestable. everyone knows it. his abs flex, relaxing and contracting as he has his way with you. pecs tight and full, his biceps are bulging.

and his face, he looks like an angel.

he looks like he is sculpted from marble and his mere existence is a blessing. too bad he knows it all too well.

in a different world, at a different time when keigo did not act or do the things he did, you would have been in love with him. it is too late for that in this life though.

"you're so fucking annoying." his voice breaks, movements growing more flurried and desperate until your body moves under the weight of his thrusts.

keigo finds you unbearable. unbearably kind, unbearably sweet, unbearably pretty.

you are unbearable because keigo wants you the most in the world and he cannot have you. it is his fault at the end of it.

"why does it have to be you?" he whines. why are you the only one who renders him into a love sick fool? why are you the only one he wants?

more cum leaks onto your tongue, leaving slick strands every time he pulls back. you wonder the same thing every single waking moment. why you? you wonder what awful thing you did in a past life to be here now.

keigo is breathless. you look good like this, you look stunning with syrupy liquid on your tongue as long as it is his.

your hair is all messy and you are glassy eyed but you do not cry. in fact, you have not cried in a while. keigo wants so badly to see it again.

you are so pretty. too pretty and too good and you're letting him fuck your little tits and he thinks every time he sees you, you are more gorgeous than the last. every position he has you in, makes him want you more.

you are like a drug. you are needed in his system permanently, he craves that euphoric feeling only you can provide. he needs you or he will withdraw and when he withdraws he feels like he will die.

he needs you in larger doses, he needs more and more from you.

and you, well you think of him as a parasite. one that has buried himself under your skin and drains every ounce of life from you.

keigo brushes your hair from your face, his head dragging along your tongue that is so warm and wet and feels so perfect. strands of his cum cover it, some leaking onto your chest as he shoves his cock along your tits.

he does not want anyone else the way he wants you. his balls mush against your abdomen, full and heavy and keigo cannot stop the way his moans are coated in desperation.

you are so little under him, his cock looks too big for you. it is too much for you but you always take him so well.

"you mess with my head. you're too fucking pretty. why do i only want to fuck you?" he rambles but it is not what he wants to say. it is insanely difficult to put together his words when he is around you. maybe that is why he fucked up this badly.

his large palm spans across your chest, over his cock that is incessantly throbbing. the veins along it pulse and the purplish head aches.

"i only want to be around you." his face contorts in pain at his own admission. he fucks his hips faster almost to distract him from what he finally managed to say. his heated cock strokes your skin.

the soft flesh of your chest and having you under him like this has his hips stuttering. his muscles tense, every single one defined as his entire body trembles and he grips the base of his cock.

he jerks himself quickly and roughly, thick strands of cum shoot onto your tongue before he aims his tip to spew it all over your face. he continues to stroke his cock while runny cum streams down your features.

you squeeze your eyes shut. you absolutely hate him. you release your breasts, breathing heavily as you try to gain some composure.

his body is still overtaken by the sensation of cumming. keigo pants above you, his pink lips parting. he will never get sick of seeing you with his cum all over your face. although he knows you do not like it.

he shakes his cock before shifting off of you. with his back facing you, you see bright red wings tattooed on his skin that definitely do not belong to an angel.

he reaches for his phone while you shakily breathe. he looks at it for a moment then drops it to the sheets. you have the urge to shove him away when he turns to you, his hand trailing between your legs.

"i got training soon but i have time to get you off." you meet his eyes, there is not an ounce of remorse in them. you push his hand away but the only reason it moves is because he did not expect it.

"don't touch me." you sit up, wiping cum from your face and disgusts coats your expression. you feel repulsive. you desperately need to be anywhere but near him.

keigo grips your arm before you can think of leaving. he leans in with furrowed brows and a clenched jaw. "what the fuck? i can touch you, i can touch you whenever i want to." his gaze is accusatory as if you were the wrong one.

"that's why my cum is all over your face. that's why i fuck you almost every day because i can touch you. don't fucking tell me not to." his hands cup your cheeks to pull your mouth to his. he wastes no time in shoving his tongue in and roughly moving his lips along yours.

almost like a reminder, almost like he needed to lay claim for his sake more than yours. he relents despite your lack of reciprocation and the tenseness in your body.

he pulls back with spit coating his lips. keigo gazes over your face, he gently brings your figure closer to him. "you know how i get when you talk like that so stop saying those things" he softly says although his words are covered in severity.

you feel encompassed by him. he is all you can smell and see. he leans in again to brush his lips over yours, fingers teasing your inner thigh. "come watch me train." his voice is deep.

"let me fuck you now and then you can show those girls who has me." he muses like having him was a blessing. like having him meant something.

you did not want him. you never wanted him. he has not seen you cry in so long but right now you think you just might break. he guides you right back into his sheets, pressing your legs to your chest as his stiffened cock prods your sodden cunt.

keigo gets to take and take from you without consequence. he gets to act like this is all okay. you have to let him fuck and cum and do what he wants with you.

then, he takes you to training with him, dressed in his clothes and smelling like him. he parades you around like a trophy to all the girls he already fucked.

you can still feel him on your skin and it makes you sick.

they keep talking and looking at you with so much anger, like you took something from them but you are the only one who is being taken apart.

they will not stop talking about hawks, hawks who is constantly flashing you smiles when he makes a goal. who comes over every time to kiss you and hold you like he means it.

like he has not done all the things that haunt you.

keigo makes you sick.

first fic :D

[crushmeeren]

master list link // ⋆ FEM READER ⋆

༝ ᭝ ༝ severe itachi brain rot, anyone? no? just me? okay. ༝ ᭝ ༝

₊˚ʚ₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎₊˚✧ ﾟ.

“I-Itachi!” It’s a desperate plea of his name, coming out in the form of a bitten off sob. A sharp gasp tears itself free of your throat when Itachi’s cock pushes into your g-spot. You bury your face further into the sheets, arching your spine even harsher, and one palm rises up to smack against the wall so you don’t give yourself a concussion. “Fuck, Itachi! Please don’t stop, please!”

Itachi’s next moan is unbelievably breathy, like he can’t quite catch his bearings as he fucks you from behind. Itachi’s cock is just so. fucking. sensitive. He truly can’t help himself when your pussy squeezes him tight, suffocating every thought in his head other than how amazing you make him feel.

“Oh! Oh my god sweet girl, you feel too good. I won’t last much longer,” Itachi babbles, whining through his teeth. He presses his sweaty chest to your back as he laces his fingers with the ones you have curled by your head, the other bracing his weight on your lower back. “I love you, I love when you cum for me. So please, please let me have it.” Itachi’s hips are steady and strong, jolting you slightly with each thrust.

Itachi slides his slick palm across your back, over your hip, and then snakes his hand down between your thighs. Two slender fingers easily find your clit and start to rub fast, messy circles into it.

“Right there! Oh god, m’gonna cum tachi!” With the way you’re crying out for him, you’re certain your throat’s going to feel like sandpaper by the end of this.

Itachi moans, the sound starting low and sharpening into another whine. “That’s it, my love,” Itachi all but purrs. “I want you to cum for me just like that, such a good girl.” His hips snap frantic but shallow, fingers speeding up and forcing heat to swell in your pelvis.

Itachi’s slick fingers circle your clit once more and you’re cumming with a silent scream, white knuckling your grasp on his fingers. He squeezes right back. A rich and warm, gooey type of pleasure spreads throughout your limbs as Itachi works you through your high. His whispered praises have you soaring in the clouds before you’re wilting with a drawn out moan.

Your hips shy away from his hand, clit becoming painfully sensitive, but it only serves to push you harder into his next thrust. His cock slides in even deeper, and Itachi clutches at your inner thigh with a yelp. He jerks forward and buries himself all the way inside you as he shudders with his own pleasure.

The two of you stay frozen for a moment, soft panting dancing in the room. Itachi’s breath hitches, cock twitching when you tighten up involuntarily.

All too soon he’s pulling himself free, allowing you to collapse as he settles on his back next to you. You place a hand over his sternum just to feel his heartbeat and he tangles his fingers with yours, shifting his head to smile tenderly at you. It’s borderline painful how pretty Itachi is like this. Long, dark hair fighting to free itself from its hair tie, sticking to the sides of his flushed face.

“Do you think it worked?” Itachi’s soft voice blends seamlessly with the cozy atmosphere.

You hum, loose limbed and satisfied. “It worked last time didn’t it? I swear Itachi, I can’t keep letting you get me pregnant,” you tease.

Itachi laughs gently, raising your hands to place a sweet kiss on your fingers. “‘Oh? And what if I want to keep you barefoot and full of my babies?” He whispers, low voice threatening to spark your lust for him once more.

You smile slyly, your adoration for the man warming your chest. You push yourself up and crawl over him until you can straddle his lap.

“There are worse ways to spend my time.”

[bettyfrommars]

The Boy is Mine (Betty's Version)

word count: 1.2k

18+MDNI, mature themes, getting high, allusions to smut, eating, nerds in love

The Scene: a romantic night at the trailer

My wee contribution for @carolmunson's writing exercise The Boy is Mine. I've never attempted a prompt like this before, and I usually write au's, so I wanted to give it a try. It's a quick little thing, I hope you enjoy 💚🚬

--

“Have you ever tried a vanilla frosting covered pickle before?”

You held a big, fat dill up to the light and spooned a helping of frosting onto the tip before sticking the silverware in your mouth to lick it clean. 

Eddie slid in next to you at the kitchen counter, meeting your curious eyes over the offering in question.  “Is this you getting back at me for dumping all the raisinets in the popcorn last time?”

"Not at all. These were two of the four things left in your fridge," you stabbed it in his direction, making his eyes cross down the end of his nose.  “And you know I like raisinets in my popcorn.”

He frowned, thoroughly confused.  “I had vanilla frosting in my fridge?”

“That and a demonic voice asking for Zuul." Nibbling at the end, you chewed with your lips curled back like a bunny.

Eddie floated nearby, humming the Ghostbusters theme song, jutting his chin back and forth to the tune.  He paused to wave a hand in front of your face when you were unresponsive for too long, hovering as if your body might start contorting from the unnatural combination.  

“It’s not bad,” you nodded, fixing your eyebrows high. “Here, try it—-”

You charged forward, wielding the pickle.

“You are so stoned right now,“ he shuffled back, giggling.  Both pairs of eyes in the trailer that night were comically bloodshot.  

You missed your target and booped his cheek with it instead of his mouth, leaving a white glob there, eliciting a few dueling snorts of laughter.  

He took hold of your wrists, dancing you in a circle so that your back was against the wall, searching your face as he wet his lips.  “If you don’t stop, we’re gonna have a problem.” 

“I’ll give you a problem,” shifting forward, your foot tangled between his, making you stumble against his chest and drop what was in your hand. It landed with a weighty thunk and rolled into the shadows of the hall.

“Oh nooooooooo,” you turned to him, faces mirroring horrified shock, followed by a laughing jag so intense that no sound came out, each of you buckling at the knees.  

When you managed to regain some composure, he smooshed his chest into you with a hmfph, blinking butterfly kisses on your cheek with his lashes.

”Hey I’m—I’m sorry there’s not much in my fridge,” he murmured, lifting his head but averting his gaze.  “I’ll have more money this weekend.  I’ll make it up to you.”

“I’m not the one complaining about the food in this fine establishment,” you tucked his hair back behind his ears, and then you untucked it.  “But I’m glad we could feed the floor a pickle.”

“And what a treat for the floor that was,” he ran his thumb along your jawline.  “Shall I roll another one?”

You found his hand to intertwine your fingers.  “I don’t think I’ll be able to drive home if I have any more of Rick’s secret sauce weed.

At that, he held a finger up in the air, and then spun to flip open the lid of the lunchbox that was at the end of the counter. 

 “Well, that’s the thing.  You’re staying here with me tonight,” he put a rolling paper down and pinched some green from inside a clear baggie.  

The flat of your palm traveled up his spine as you rested your chin on his shoulder to watch him work his magic. Next to the lunchbox sat one of his small, spiral notebooks covered in doodles.

“I hate my bed when you’re not in it,” his hair hung down to shield his face as he concentrated.  “I hate this world when you’re not with me.”

Your teeth found the meat of his arm for a nibble, tasting the cotton of his t-shirt.  “That’s very romantic.”

“It’s just you and me, monkey,” he lifted his arm up so you could slide in next to him.  He lit the end and put it to your lips.  “Promise you’ll stay?”

You nodded on a tight inhale, holding the smoke in your lungs.  

“There’s ramen in the cupboard and we can split the last beer,” he talked while you exhaled, nuzzling his neck, feeling the vibration from his voice as he spoke. 

“I need a glass of water first,” you mumbled against his warm skin.

He passed you the joint and went over to the dish rack to pick up something.  “I ran out of, like, nice cups, is this okay?”

It was his class of ‘86 mug.

You gave a thumbs up and he filled it with water from the tap. “You know how much I went through to get this thing. Only the best for my liege.”

Something colorful on the sofa caught your eye and you left the kitchen to get closer, squinting at what you thought you saw.  “Where did that throw pillow come from?”

“Where did what come from?” 

“This,” you lifted up the white square edged with a floppy ruffle.  Someone had embroidered a raccoon on the front, and the raccoon was holding a Garfield mug. 

“Wayne’s new girlfriend, the one he practically lives with these days. She made it.” He spanked his palm on his hip with each step as he brought the mug over to you.  “It’s pretty cute, right?”

“I love it,” you ran your fingers down the embroidery, finding immense joy in the expression on the raccoon's face.  “Is this supposed to be Wayne? It looks more like you.”

“Aw, don’t say that,” his arms found you once again, pining you close to his side. “It’s not even true, don’t get my hopes up. If only I were so handsome.”  

After a few gulps of water, you put the pillow down and turned to slot a hand on the side of his neck. “Want me to start the noodles while you find us something to watch?”

“What sounds good?” He mumbled against your mouth, nudging your nose with his.  “I recorded that Sunday night movie you wanted to see, the one about the time travelers. But I’ve got some other stuff, Rick gave me a whole box of tapes he didn’t want.”

“You recorded Time Bandits for me? Wait, when did you get a VCR?”

“I didn’t,” he brought his head back, sucking in his lower lip, and then he opened up his arm, gesturing to the contraption under the TV.  “I mean, you can rent them now.  Stevie boy gave me a deal.”

The sides of your mouth quivered.  “Just so you could record my movie?”

“Well,” he shrugged, looking down to play with your fingers in his hand.  “I knew you’d be at work that night, so.”

The kiss that came next was deep and urgent, and it stirred a frenzy in both of you. In a few seconds, the mug was on the ground, and you were undressing each other, pulling shirts off so you could be as close as the confines of your bodies allowed.  

“Fuck the movie,” he mumbled, breathy against your mouth, unbuttoning your shorts while you undid his belt and pulled him onto the couch. 

—----

The next morning, limbs tangled up with Eddie on his bed, you were just stirring when you heard Wayne come home.  Eddie groaned, shifting to roll over and spoon you from behind while you listened absently to the sound of his uncle taking his boots off and dropping his keys on the counter from behind the closed door.  

Wayne took a few steps down the hall toward the bathroom, a pause, and then: “Son? Are you awake? Why is there a frosting covered pickle on the floor?"

------

Smooches 💚

[creepsopasta]

Do you have any general dating headcannons about Jack?

If that's too vague then maybe Jack dating someone who knows a lot about the supernatural. Like they're oddly chill about him being a demon and sometimes even give him tips about his diet of something like that.

I HAVE SO MANY DATING HCS FOR JACK I THINK ABOUT HIM ALL THE TIME. I LOVE EYELESS JACK A NORMAL AND SANE AMOUNT

General EJ Dating Hcs

• He doesn’t sleep, or he doesn’t really need to. It creates problems, because he will just sit there and stare at you while you try to sleep. He won’t move or speak or get up. He will just stare. And then he gets hungry after a while so he leaves.

• Absolutely miserable to sleep with if it’s winter. He is so fucking cold. He’s so cold he doesn’t feel hot when summer rolls around. The hoodie and jeans are a year round wardrobe for him. People look at him like he’s more of a freak than usual when they see him wearing heavy jackets in 102 degree weather.

• He smiles so wide. I am of the opinion he has a bunch of fucking teeth so when you make him laugh or smile he grins so big!!!!! He’s a great smiler

• Insufferably sore loser. He hates losing in any facet of life. He goes through multiple stages of grief before he’s just pissed the fuck off and he goes to your room (not even his fucking own he likes yours better) and locks you out and sits there for an indefinite amount of time. He might steal something out of there and you can hear him bitching to himself

• Cooks things with a ridiculous amount of seasonings. He doesn’t fucking care. Let him cook you someone’s livers with lemon pepper and juice and garlic salt and meat tenderizer and spices and nutmeg and chili powder and lime and basil and popcorn salt. The kitchen is fucking insane when he’s in it. But he’s cooking with love and human organs please accept it

• He shows affection in a very odd way. Pulls you in close by your shirt sleeve or jacket strings or belt loops or scarf or whatever. Just wants to feel you close to him sometimes.

• Super flexible. Wants to freak you out. Let him spider walk to your room. He is going to climb on the ceiling in the middle of the night. You can hear his bones. His back bends in ways that are wrong. He’s fucked up

• I think he smells like weed and copper. He’s killed in all of his clothes so they all smell like metal or they’re very stained. And I am a firm believer he smokes weed with Clockwork and Hoodie and sometimes Jeff after a job well done. So he comes home really high and covered in blood sometimes but it’s okay don’t worry about it. It’s cool. He might not even come home until the day after so he can avoid worrying you or you seeing him in that state

• Fucked up tangled hair. Always covers it up with his hood and it’s frizzed up and the ends are split and it’s mangled with blood and there’s miscellaneous substances sticking to it. And he just never puts in the effort to fix it. So he will often just get you to brush it for him and then he’ll get angry that it hurts. And it’s like what the fuck did you expect Jack? But he always greatly appreciates your help

• It’s likely that he gives you his clothes if he doesn’t want them/can’t fit them anymore. I’m not sure how desirable a hoodie that smells of cannabis and blood is tho but if you like it he wants you to have it

• Freakishly Tall. How’s the fuckin weather up there cocksucker? He could lift you all the way up to the goddamn Eiffel Tower. That’s why he has to lean down so his head doesn’t hit most ceilings and shower heads are taller than him so he has to sit down to take baths

• If you weren’t scared of him upon first meeting him (aka he tried to kill you), he would probably think that’s a huge fucking mood killer. “Really? You’re not scared? Kinda killing my vibe here, man… you’re not even gonna scream?”

• He’s downcasted. Dejected. Is he not scary anymore? Is that the problem? Are you just a freak? Do demonic, cannibalistic creatures frequent your room often? What the fuck are you just standing there for?

• He needs to find out what the fuck is wrong you. Which is why he’s going to stay in your house and pace around your kitchen. Stop trying to offer him food and advice on how to wash the blood off his clothes. Stop being yourself!!!!! Get away from him!!!!!!

• So fast forward to now and uh. He would kill for you. Like and subscribe for that

• Evil fucked up creature boyfriend.

[wifetomegatron]

imagine how perfect of a husband rung must be. (rung/reader) (nsfw!) (mdni!)* A glimpse into your domestic life will consist of you waking up in his arms, facing each other — your head buried against his neck cables. He murmurs a good morning, and you burrow yourself deeper into his chassis, drawing long, slow circles against the seams. On a busy day, he'll unwillingly untangle himself from you, tucking you back under the blankets to let you sleep longer. Leaving not without a kiss. On the days when you both have nothing to do, unhurried and indulgent, he'd kiss you deeply. Once, twice, and sometimes, they lead to more: hands roaming across each other, languid, loving, noses bumping. Hips moving in tandem. 

Then you'll both fold the sheets together, tidying the bed whilst making conversation. You tell Rung about your silly dreams and your lover listens to you with adoration, eyes wistful and mouth quirked into a permanent smile. At times he combs your hair as you brush your teeth, and if you have long hair, he'd tie it up or braid the strands, learning how to do it from habitually watching you. Then he'd take pleasure out of the little things: such as making you a cup of tea as he pours himself energon, or helping you with your jewellery and getting dressed for the day. 

Aboard the lost light, he's usually consulting with patients, red alert occassionally bumps into you in the hallways on your way out ( still wary if not suspicious.) Then, halfway into the day, you'd reconvene in the mess hall or Swerve's, fingers and servo intertwined atop the table. Cue Rewind making a snark comment at Chromedome about how he never looks at him like that. You know it's untrue, but it flatters you to know that watching you and your partner inspires people ( if not make them — aka either Swerve or Rodimus —ask aloud for the fifth time of the day 'me and who'.)

He says he loves it when you ask him how his day was or if he was doing alright, and you'd have to bite back your tongue from showering him with love, opting to swallow the ocean of words to replace it with a kiss. The crew tends to overlook just how hard your husband works. And when he always looks so put together, it's easy to forget that a simple question could brighten his day. So you took it upon yourself to fill in that role. A stroke of your hand against his shoulder, comforting his frame and easing his back.

He was your love, your dearest, your beautiful, charming Rung. And you were his spark, his darling, his conjunx who is so generous with love, so selfless in your affection. And you like to show it to him, mouth already trailing down his waist, hands moving delicately in and out of him. He was so willing for you, so careful too — always making sure not to buck too hard against your open mouth. Lost in pleasure with his helm thrown back, servos, tangled against your hair. You tell him he's doing so good. So handsome and gorgeous and sublime. He loses himself with a whine when you lick up his spike, hands clever against his wet and open valve.

And when you make love, he's always more than happy to return the gesture, eager to please, to unwind. 

He was always a mech of intuition, filled to the brim with warmth and gentleness, so much that it overflows to the way he thrusts into you. He charts your every twitch, every moan, every sigh; memorizing and learning all the ways he can make you happy. And as he moves in and out of you with purpose, you hold him close — tight, so that you can hear the sound of his spark thrum. And when you finally come, molten liquid pooling in your belly, the release comes in waves. It reminds you of the gradual stop to a symphony, the crescendo pricking your skin as he follows after. Your skin is glowing with love, never depraved when Rung is already up to clean your legs, parting the hair sticking to the side of your temple before planting a soft kiss, thanking you like he always does.  If you are both not too tired, he'll tell you about the book he's reading. You've recommended a few authors — Paulo Coelho, Kafka, Khaled Hosseini. His eyes seem to shine even under the darkness of your shared habsuite, voice barely above a whisper. Intimate, sweet.

Then, as you drift into nothingness in his embrace, you often dream of life as it is: content in the mundane and the ordinary because it has Rung in it.  *au where rung is not primus and he's just a sweet, old mech