#this one kicked me in the teeth a little bit

[castillon02]

When Jason starts to prioritize cooperation as well as vengeance, Tim suspects Jason's self-control still isn't that great. Since he's Tim, well...

He conducts some tests.

Hood is about to murder someone that they need information from when Tim calls out, "Hey, Hood, has anyone ever told you that you're a Decepticon wannabe who probably fucks himself to the sound of his own robot voice?"

Hood stills.

The drug dealer who sold tenth-grader Benny Garcia fentanyl gapes in a way that shows off his recently-missing teeth.

Hood drops the dealer in a heap and turns his shitkicker combat boots in Tim's direction.

Tim bolts. Batman will swoop in to continue the dealer's interrogation; he and Hood have figured out a good-cop-bad-cop thing, though Batman still seems bemused about the chance to be 'good cop.'

Hood races after him.

---

Tim makes it to a safe house off of Robinson Park. He probably lost Hood about half an hour ago, but it never hurts to be careful. Especially when---oh, shit.

"This place is filthy," Jason says, sitting on the kitchen counter that Tim never uses and looking with disdain at Tim's collection of empty energy drink cans, takeout boxes, and crime yarn. Jason's not wearing his helmet or domino, and he taps his boot heels softly against the cabinet door like a little kid. Not exactly danger signals.

But for a moment, all Tim can look at is the boots. It's stupid; the knife at his neck was closer to fatal. But the kicking had hurt the worst.

"Since you apparently have time to run your mouth," Jason says, "and since someone stole my target, it seems like we both have time to clean up in here. I went out and got trash bags." He nudges a box on the counter next to him. The trash bags are the sturdy kind, not the flimsy cheap kind or the extra-strength hide-the-body-parts kind.

Tim has been meaning to get trash bags for this place for three weeks. It's just that he doesn't visit often, and when he does it's usually when he's injured or tired, and he could get things delivered but that's a paper trail he could avoid if he just made time to visit the bodega down the street... "You're a trash bag," he says, even though it doesn't make sense.

Jason rolls his eyes. "Just for that, we're mopping the floor too. Luckily, I came prepared." He hops down from the counter and opens the little mystery closet next to the fridge. Inside: a broom, a Swiffer, a bucket, a pack of scrub brushes still in their plastic, and a jug of bleach.

Ohhh, that's why the closet is so narrow. It's supposed to hold cleaning supplies. Right. Tim definitely knew that. Tim definitely doesn't just have a roll of paper towels...somewhere...that he sometimes puts dish soap on.

He squints at Jason. Still no green danger-eyes. "Darcy and Elizabeth would never let you be part of a throuple with them," he tries.

Jason pulls out a trash bag. "They've got issues anyway."

"Helen Keller would make up new words so she could sign how ugly your face is."

"She was a socialist," Jason says. He holds the bag and gestures at Tim's kitchen table. "So we'd probably just talk about organizing the working class. I don't think looks would come into it. Also, way to be a dick."

"You're so pathetic that Jane Eyre would give up on you like she didn't give up on Rochester," Tim says, figuring he did the research for this attack, so he might as well use it.

Jason actually laughs a little bit. "First of all, there's a lot of power exchange going on in that decision, so jot that down," he says. "Second of all." He looks Tim in the face. "If I start to lose my temper, I'll leave, okay? Or you can just ask me to."

"Even if I asked right now?" Tim asks.

"Even if you asked right now," Jason confirms, though he eyeballs Tim's mess.

Jason's still holding the trash bag. Hands out, open body language, seemingly not homicidal.

Tim had planned for a lot of things with this encounter, including a body bag. Trash bags weren't one of his considered variables. He starts picking up empty cans. "This one can be for recycling," he says, dumping the cans into Jason's bag. New things from old materials. Jason likes that symbolism shit, right?

(Though...new things. Old materials. If there's anyone who ought to be good at that, it's someone who got raised from the dead.

Tim smirks and keeps the thought to himself. Operation: Limitless has been a startling success; he doesn't need to verbalize all his inside thoughts now.)

("Kid, I can tell you're thinking about a zombie joke," Jason says anyway. "You can only tell me after we've brought this shit-heap back to life.")

[exasperatedoctopus]

Have a crackpot theory: the people who enjoy most of the new police procedurals that have been coming out recently just secretly wanna watch soap operas but don’t have the Guts

[exhaustedwerewolf]

hm,,,

[miamicommune]

another day another horrifying nightmare!!

[lady-lauren]

❥ KATSUKI BAKUGOU X FEM! READER

❥ WORD COUNT: 2.3k

❥ WARNINGS/TAGS: a/b/o dynamics (alpha Katsuki/omega reader), knotting, age-gap (Katsuki is in his grumpy 40s, you're in college), he calls you "kid", fucking in a pool, some mention of sex toys, degradation, creampie

→ Kinktober Masterlist ←

God, he’s too fucking old for this shit. Too god damn tired of the animal that kicks against his ribs whenever the slick smell of a willing cunt passes his nose. 

“ ‘m sorry,” you whisper, rolling your hips to suck his cock deeper in your drooling pussy. He grinds his molars at the too-tight feeling. 

“Fucking brat,” he hisses and clamps his hands to your doughy ass, jerking you up and down his cock. “Knew you were trouble. Fucking told you to stay away from me.” 

Katsuki knew he would end up fucking the bright-eyed and bushy-tailed college girl the day you moved in next door. He tried to stop it, he really did, showing you his teeth and growling any time the sweet stink of your omega scent greeted him. 

Yet he’s the one who couldn’t help himself. Humid summer air brought your pathetic smell right to him, had him peeking over the fence that separated his house from yours like a fucking perv.

The sight of you in your little pool, desperate to cool your too-hot skin, bikini bottoms floating next to you as you shoved a dildo into your aching hole was his breaking point. 

And now here you are, stuffed full of throbbing, thick alpha cock. Because you begged him, all fat tears and plump pouts as your heat clawed at your insides. 

He might be too old for this, but he’ll never get tired of how fucking stupid omegas get for dick. 

“The t-toys just weren’t…weren’t good enough.” 

You’re pinned between him and the pool wall, lips of your cunt dragging along his length over and over again as you try to find release. 

Copious amounts of slick gush from you, making his thrusting easier. Pearly strings of your cream float around the pool, lost to splash of him fucking into you. 

But even still, he’s so engorged with blood and hormones ready to knot that his fat cock struggles against your gummy walls. You hiss, not from pain, but from relief, so happy to be full that no amount of stretching will detract from your pleasure.

“You’re fucking pitiful.” 

Shame briefly shines in your blown-out eyes, a bit of humanity peeking through the haze of animal instincts. Shit. This is why he hates this, why he’s tried to avoid all the breeding nonsense. Omegas are so emotionally squishy. 

Not that he’s any better. One pout from you as you locked eyes with him across the yard made him jump a fucking fence and plunge his cock into your weeping hole at two in the afternoon. 

“Just can’t help it, can you, kid?” 

Red eyes trace over the body he’s been trying so hard not to imagine. The triangle fabric of your swimsuit is peeled away from your tits, your nipples puffy from how hard you were tugging on them before he got his hands on you. 

A little mhmmmm-mhmmmm sounds from lips pressed too tightly together, your head lolling back as you keep bucking against him with your eager, exposed pussy. 

You’re a mess, all swollen and gooey and desperate. 

“Such a dumb omega,” he groans and wraps his arms around your back, pressing your soft body all the way against his, “fucking yourself out in the open. Wanted me to find you? Wanted the old man next door to fuck you stupid.”

“N-no,” you lie so easily. “Too hot, was too hot and couldn’t get off and—”

“Bullshit. You started splashin’ around out here just praying I’d catch your scent.” 

“C-can’t help it, pr-promise. You just always smell so fucking good, alpha.”

Makes sense now why you always seem to be out on a walk when he gets home from work, and why you always seem to need something from him. He was a nice neighbor and gave you his number when you moved in all on your own, a little omega lost in a big college town. You would message him for help around your place at least once a week—changing light bulbs, fixing a leaky faucet, even opening a goddamn jar a few nights ago. 

He told you several times to stop bothering him, yet you never could catch the hint that fooling around with an alpha was going to get you bitten. 

Relentlessly he pounds his hips, the buoyancy of the water making it effortless to hold you and fuck in deep. His thighs barely feel any strain, his back muscles rolling like a true predator as he starts to use his arms to pull you up and down. 

Katsuki slides his fat cock until it’s barely in your pussy, mushroom tip caught by the suctioning ring of muscle inside of you. Then he bottoms out, balls connecting with your ass under the water with a muted thump. 

“God, fuck, that’s good, so good,” you’re fucking loud, “feel so fucking good in my pussy.” 

“Christ, you wanna let the whole neighborhood knowing I’m fucking you?”

​​The fuck-drunk little smile on your face tells him that maybe you do. 

And he thought he was the perv. 

“You’re such a fucking slut,” he whispers furiously, kissing you with so much force it makes your back arch in his strangle hold. 

A thick hand wraps around your throat. He doesn’t squeeze, just leaves it there possessively as his tongue forces its way between your lips. You unconsciously moan, your own tongue meeting his, but he presses it down, not wanting it in the way. You give in, letting him encircle your tongue with his own so he can taste you. He pulls back to suck your bottom lip into his mouth, teeth roughly dragging against it.

“Like feeling my cock spread you apart, hm? Maybe I’ll get you a dildo my size for next time you wanna put on a little show.” 

You purr and it makes him want to scratch you to pieces. 

The burning stretch of your omega cunt is bliss. The smell of sex and chlorine sting his nose, make him lose it a bit and press so hard inside of you that his cock nearly meets the resistance of your cervix. Not that you seem to mind it—your nails are sinking into his wet shoulders, holding on for dear life as he fucks you in the heat of a summer afternoon. 

When Katsuki shifts his hips down, heavy cock sliding out of your tight hole, you bare your teeth and growl at a man nearly double your age.  

“Easy, tiger,” he tuts and drops you in the warming water, “turn around and let me hit it from the back.”

He loves that your instincts are to obey.

You turn your back to him with an indignant little huff, bending over the edge of the pool and waiting. Katsuki locks his arms around your thighs, pushing up and letting the water do the work. Your legs float open easily, spreading wide as he spears his way back into your slutty hole. 

“Ever been knotted before, kid?”

Looking over your shoulder, you shake your head, hiccuping as he works his shaft in and out of you. 

“Please, please, ah, knot me. Wa-wanna know what it feels like.”

He’s toying with an ancient fire, he knows that. One fat knot from an alpha and you might be begging to move in with him, but it’s worth it. Your pussy feels too goddamn good and he’s too worked up not to plug you full. 

Katsuki works you into an absolute frenzy, waves of water splashing onto the edges of the pool as you mewl and focus on how effortlessly he fucks you. Your walls meld to him, each thrust hasty and claiming, scented sweat steaming from the heat of your body and the blistering of the sun. His dick curves just perfectly inside you, cockhead purposefully brushing against the most sensitive, spongy spots within your depths. 

“Surprised none of your stupid boyfriends knotted this tight cunt before.”

“Wouldn’t,” your fingers are gripping the edge of the pool for dear life, like you’re gonna drown any second, “wouldn’t let them.” 

“And you’re gonna let me? Just a slut for older men?” 

“Slut for you,” you correct him with a bounce of your ass against his pelvis, “love a big, strong alpha.” 

He rolls his eyes at the shameless flattery, yet still the ego inside him flares to life. 

“Young, stupid omegas always think they can get whatever they want,” he growls, all while keeping a rough pace inside your body, watching how the water parts for the two of you grinding into one another. 

You give him a knowing gaze over your shoulder, sultry and coy. 

You are getting exactly what you want. All you had to do was get his attention, pry at his most basic instincts and now here he is losing his mind over the tight squeeze of your omega cunt. 

Maybe you aren’t so stupid after all.

But he’ll fuck you stupid, he’s sure of that. 

“I’m too old for silly games, kid. You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

He proves his point by pawing at your belly under the water, pressing in until you can both feel how deep he is in your guts. The realization makes you whine, pushing hard back against him. 

“You think I’m just some toy to use during your heat?” Katsuki tuts, licking at one of his canines. “Just wait until I knot this stupid cunt and you beg me to keep coming back.”

A symphony of sex is ringing in your backyard, sounds of primal grunts, shrill little screams, balls slapping against your ass, water gurgling and splashing.

Any animal nearby knows what’s happening, that nature is running its course and you’re both nothing but senseless bodies looking for the simplest relief.

Katsuki slides the hand on your stomach lower, pinching your aching clit before he starts swirling it under the pads of experienced fingers. You start thrashing, cunt sucking so tightly he’s sure you’re hurting with the need to cum. 

“Pleasepleaseplease oh god please!” 

You shatter and his pride nearly bursts with you. Your cunt clenches, so pleased to cum around a thick alpha cock. You babble absolute nonsense, beg for his knot and a string of thanks yous and pleases and alpha alpha alpha dripping from your mouth into the wake of the pool.

The way your pussy squeezes him tells him you’ve been looking for this orgasm for hours, walls so swollen and pulsing. You must’ve been fucking yourself with useless toys since morning and finally got desperate enough to make a scene and get him to fuck you the way you needed. 

“Poor thing,” he coos, watching your cream float to the surface of the water. 

You’re totally mindless now as he continues to fuck you, body sloshing in the pool as he manhandles you to take what he wants. 

“Don’t even know if you can handle a knot, kid. You’re too tight.” 

That stirs you, makes you flatten your hands against the edge of the pool and push back to meet his rhythm. Over and over, you keep up with him, so fucking fraught to finally feel an alpha swell in your guts.

“Please don’t stop, please. Need to feel it, been in heat for d-days.”

“Oh omega, have you been fucking yourself silly with all the wrong toys, hm? Been stuffing yourself all alone in your room? Should’ve, ah, just asked me to come fix it.”

“You told me to stop b-bothering you…” 

“You’ll annoy me when your sink’s leakin’ but not when your pussy is? So fucking stupid.”

Only he’s starting to go dumb at the wrap of your cunt around him. The beast in his belly is raging, alpha instincts boiling in the summer sun. 

“C’mon, slut, milk my cock,” he pants and slams into you, lost in the way the water reflects around your curves and how your thighs are locked around his waist. He swears your body listens, some reflexive instinct that has your pussy clamping around his shaft until he can feel the veins of his cock squishing into your walls. 

The orgasmic build starts rushing up his spine, inflating the base of his cock inch by inch. 

“Holy shit, fuck~” you whimper at the first stretch of his knot. “Kat–Katsuki, ‘m so fucking full!” 

Finally he bursts, knot bulging into your gumminess until you’re plugged with him. His cum spills into your tight channel, filling you whole. 

Your sweet, stupid omega brain can barely comprehend the stretch. Another orgasm wrecks your body, has you falling face first into the pool. Katsuki scrambles to grab you, hoist you up and into his arms as you gasp and crest and cum all over him again. 

He can’t help but chuckle, easily maneuvering his back to the pool’s edge. He lets you calm down in his hold, your head falling against his shoulder as you try to breathe. 

“Get what you wanted, brat?” 

Katsuki pats your bloated belly, making you squeal as he rubs the heel of his hand against his knot. 

You nod dumbly, eyes closing to focus on the feel of him. He smirks realizing you’ll never forget him, your first knot. Omegas really are so emotional. 

Yet he’s taunted by the stupid bikini bottoms still floating in the water, mocking just how easy it was for you to boil him down to his base instincts. 

He’s too old for this shit. Especially as you start grinding down against his knot, cooing, reminding him you’ll be fucking him until your heat decides it’s done with him. 

[a-ikuoliver]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

© all works belong to @a-ikuoliver, @gwen0m, and dlirious on archive of our own, do not plagiarise, translate, repost, feed my works into ai or recommend my work on other platforms, or bind my fanworks for sale.

[cat-got-your-tongue]

Drunk texting

DP&W!Logan x Fem!reader: featuring Wade

Summary: logan goes out with Wade and won't stop calling and texting your phone

CW: fluff | mention of alcohol | dirty talk | failed attempt at sexting | mature language | mention of sex | drunk logan |

Word count: Over 1k

Authors note: Hi, please be kind. I'm still trying to get back into writing. Not proofread. Requests are open. Divider by @saradika-graphics

My work will always be 18+ Minors do not interact or read.

It was 2:00 am on a fucking Wednesday night and your phone was blowing up. Wade had dragged Logan out to have some "bonding time with peanut." Which was code for which of them could get drunk the fastest. It always led to the bar being completely drained of alcohol — usually with one of them coming home with a bruised eye (Wade).

Logan could drink, and so could wade. But he has such a high tolerance that the amount of alcohol he consumed in order to get completely drunk would probably kill the average man. Not good. That meant longer days spent working so he could pay off the tab. You didn't mind most of the time. Since he needed a break and have some fun every once in a while.

Your phone lights up next to your bed. You tried to ignore it, but it kept happening over and over. The loud buzz vibrating on the night stand. You groan and throw your pillow over your head. No use. The sound just kept getting louder and louder.

You sit up in bed and grab it, the bright light making your eyes water a bit. You look down, and your eyebrows shoot up. There were about 46 text messages, and over 10 missed calls. All from logan and a few from wade.

You open your text message app to read what the hell was so important that he had to blow your phone up in the middle of the night.

Lo 💕: miss you.

Lo 💕: Wades tupee is crooked, not telling him tho

Lo 💕: luv u ba.yb

Lo 💕: gonna fkc u wen I get home

Lo 💕: gonna have u soking my dick

Lo 💕: stop ignore me

Lo 💕: [image]

Your eyes were still trying to adjust to the screen of your phone as you read through every text message logan has sent. You sighed, looking at the picture he sent you. You could tell he was absolutely trashed. He was in the run-down bars bathroom. The lighting in there was dim, and the mirror was dirty. He was holding his semi hard cock in one hand and had the bottom of shirt in between his teeth. The sight alone had you squeezing your thighs together. His abs were flexed and a little sweaty, making his happy trail stick to his skin. You had to take a deep breath and calm yourself.

You clicked back and went over to the texts Wade had sent you. You were trying to get your mind off of the selfie logan sent.

Wade: don't worry pookie is fine.

Wade: he's got his tits out like a slut.

Wade: okay now he's fighting

Wade: Okay now he's fighting ME

Wade: I'm not even drunk. I've been having the bartender give me water the whole night 😈

Wade: is he in heat ??? All he's been talking about is fucking

You rolled your eyes and let out a breathy laugh. You knew the second wade got logan through that front door it was over. Just as you had that thought, the door went bursting open, hitting the wall behind it with a loud bang.

"Speak of the devil." You mumbled under your breath. You walked out and saw Wade throwing logan back onto the couch.

He turned to you. "Sunshine here decided to start hmmm his fourth bar fight of the night, so we got kicked out."

You ran your hand down your face and looked down at where logan was slumped over. "Bad night?"

"Nah, luckily, he got whiskey dick of the claws, so no one was shanked." Wade shrugged as he readjusted his toupee. You fought the urge to laugh when you remembered logans text from earlier.

You let out a sigh of relief that no one was actually hurt tonight. You don't know what you'd do if you had to bail logan out of jail. Knowing Wade, he'd probably would just break him out.

"Well thank you for taking him out tonight. He's been......kinda down lately." You spoke as your eyes were still trained on your boyfriend.

There was pause before he spoke up again. He knew how much his friend could get into his own head and overthink.

"No problem. I'm gonna leave you two alone before he wakes up and tells me how much he wants to eat your ass again." Wade gave you a sympathetic pat to your shoulder and quickly hauled ass out of your apartment.

He wasn't gonna stick around incase logan decided to whip out his cock. You couldn't blame him.

Your face got hot, and you groaned again. Logan always had such a way with words. The thought of him telling Wade anything about your sex life was enough to make you want to go hide under your blanket. Now you were wondering what the hell those two talk about when you or Vanessa were not around.

A low grumble sounded from logan as he woke up. His eyes were dropping, and his speech was slurred. He looked around, confused as to where he was until he saw you. He gave you a weak smile and patted his lap for you to sit.

"C'mere" logan hiccups. "Been missin' ya all night." He tried reaching for you.

You immediately slapped his hand away.

"Nuh, uh, I'm gonna make you some water, and you're gonna sleep on this couch until you're sobered up." You shook your head and backed away.

"Then maybe just maaaybe you can have me in the morning. Deal?"

Logan pouted and sunk deeper into his spot. You couldn't help but chuckle a bit. You couldn't deny the sad pout on his face was cute. He looked so annoyed with you, but he didn't have it in his heart to be mean. Never to you. No matter how drunk logan got, it still didn't keep him from having that soft spot for you.

"Why don't you stand between my legs and lemme eat your pussy then." He slurred again.

"Jesus christ." You muttered and went into the kitchen to pour him some water.

You'd think you would be used to his dirty talk by now. Yet he still managed to surprise you with it. If he wasn't drunk off his ass right now, you would have peeled off all your clothes and let him have you right there on that couch— letting him stuff his cock so deep in your pussy it made your legs tremble before he even started moving. You shake your head of those thoughts and continue getting him his water.

By the time you came back, he had already passed out. You sat the water down and helped him into a more comfortable position. Throwing a blanket over him, you placed a gentle kiss to the tip of his nose. Quickly, you went back into your bed to get some sleep. You're sure by morning he would be back to normal. He didn't get hangovers much. Maybe you'd take him up on all of his all of those offers once he's sober.

[euthymiya]

“What’s got you so grumpy?”

Sukuna dodges your finger. It fails to meet its destination of his cheek as he tilts his head to the side, earning a frown from you before you huff and try again.

He looks up from his phone with an irritated glance when your fingertip digs into his face.

“What are you talking about?” He grunts.

He knows exactly what you’re talking about. Normal Sukuna is irritable enough—grumpy Sukuna is about as bad tempered as a hornet who’s had its nest kicked. (Which is to say: he’s pretty fucking unfriendly at the moment.)

“You’re sulking,” you point out—and that statement earns a sharp glare from him as you seat yourself on his lap. (Still, he makes room easily for you, leaning back on the couch and putting his phone down to the side so his hands can rest on your hips. Grumpy Sukuna is never grumpy enough to push your body away—if anything, it’s the one way to get him less agitated).

“I’m not fucking sulking,” he says. It’s almost petulant, but you have enough grace to spare his dignity and not point it out. “I don’t sulk.”

“Are you sure?” You raise a disbelieving brow—he clicks his teeth at the way you choose to question him, but it softens considerably when your lips peck his jaw delicately. “You look pretty sulky to me.”

“Get your eyes checked.”

“Can’t. Then I might see you for all your ugliness. We wouldn’t want to throw years down the drain once I come to my senses do we?”

It’s his turn to raise a brow, sarcastically snorting as you give him a cheeky wink. “If you wanna try ‘n be a smart ass, at least be realistic about it. Saw you checking me out just this morning through the mirror.”

“Maybe you need your eyes checked,” you huff, “I was not checking you out.”

“Pretty sure you were,” he smirks, lips pulling into a haughty grin. Getting under your skin with his smugness is about the only way to cheer him up, it seems, because he looks rather pleased when he adds, “it’s okay. Don’t blame ya for bein’ possessed by my impressive physique.”

“Too bad your personality isn’t as dazzling,” you quip back easily.

It’s meant to be lighthearted, of course—but it seems to be the wrong thing to say. Quite wrong, in fact, because as soon as the words escape you, he tenses before locking his jaw.

There’s a flash of something in his eyes. Something you don’t think you’ve ever seen in Sukuna’s face—doubt. It’s a little odd, in all realness. Sukuna is not a doubtful person. He’s confident, and he’s confident enough that it’s almost to a fault. He’s cocky and smug and sometimes a little too self-assured for it to be considered good for his health.

It’s a bit unsettling to see his face almost fall at something you say, especially when you just say it for the sake of light banter.

“Yeah?” He chuckles dryly. It sounds dangerously self-deprecating—enough that it makes you frown. “Good thing I have my abs to keep you glued to my side then, huh?”

“Well, it’s not just your abs,” you hum, one hand smoothing over his shirt to feel the ridges of his muscles through the shirt. “Your boobs are pretty great, too.”

To prove your point, you give his left pectoral a gentle squeeze. He scowls before shoving your hand away as blush creeps along the back of his neck.

“You fucking freak,” he mutters.

Something is bothering him. You know you can’t directly ask it out of him, otherwise he’ll deny it left and right, but something is bothering him. Sukuna is not good with words or emotions. In fact, he’s pretty awful at anything that has to do with anyone’s feelings. (He’s better about yours more than other’s, but he’s pretty far from good.)

You don’t mind. There’s something oddly charming about witnessing the way he navigates softening up for you—it’s like watching a baby take their first steps. Wobbly. Slow. Unsure. Pretty badly executed, but endearingly rewarding all at the same.

Except, this time, it’s not your emotions he’s navigating. For some reason, yours are easy than his own. Navigating yours means he doesn’t have to try. He knows you better than he knows himself. Knows when your feelings are hurt by the twitch of your brows alone. Knows you’re sad by the dimness in your eyes. Knows you’re pretending joy when your laugh is quieter than usual. Knows you’re faking it when your smile is a much more tight lipped and a less bright version.

But his own feelings are complicated. A lot more than he cares to try and understand them for. In true Sukuna fashion, he always aims to ignore his problems until they seemingly disappear.

But you’re too difficult to let that slide. He brushes things under the rug, and you pull the rug from under his feet and make him fall face first into his problems.

“Hey,” you nudge him, cupping his face with your hand gently, “what’s gotten into you? It’s weird when you’re not pissing me off a couple of times every hour.”

“And that’s supposed to be a good thing?” He challenges, like your words seem to tick him off more, “what are you sittin’ here for if I’m always pissing you off?”

Oh, you think. So that’s what it is.

You smile, humming before you gently tilt his face up. Something vulnerable is attached to that frown of his. Like he’s waiting for your answer because he needs something to hold onto. Some metaphorical lifeline where your feelings are attached to his own, just to keep you chained together. Where you’re always somewhere that he also is. Where he doesn’t have to care about his emotions because what you feel is what he feels, too, and as long as you’re okay, so is he.

But you care. You seem to care a pretty great deal because you lean in and brush your nose against his as you kiss his lips softly.

“Who cares if you piss me off?” You snort, “I piss you off better. I’m pretty good at it.”

“You are,” he agrees instantly.

You give him a fleeting huff against his mouth as you mumble, “you don’t have to agree so fast.”

It pulls a small laugh from him, making his arms snake around your waist and tug your body closer. Chest to chest, heartbeat thumping in two, synchronized rhythms.

“What happens when I’m all old and expiring and my abs are gone?” He raises a brow. You hum, stroking a thumb along his cheek as you smile and admire him.

“We’ll still be pissing each other off, I bet.”

“That’s supposed to be good?” He repeats, this time much more unsure. Anyone else could hardly catch the air of hesitance in his words, but you catch it instantly.

“Why not?” You shrug, “it always worked for us, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he scoffs, “that’s until it doesn’t.” He spits the words out, not meeting your eyes. It’s like they taste acrid is mouth and he can’t bring himself swallow them down.

You don’t say anything. Instead, you lean in and just press a line of kisses from his chin to the corner of his lips, purposely dodging his mouth and littering small, delicate pecks along his cheek. And then his forehead. And then the bridge of his nose.

Never his lips, though. And he gets increasingly frustrated by it.

“What are you waiting for?” He grumbles, eyeing you with a look that screams: quit fucking around.

You fight back an amused smile. “Does it piss you off?”

“Course it does. Kiss me properly or back off my face—”

“Cause you love me right?” You ask cheekily. He pauses, thinking on it for a moment before slumping wearily.

“And if I do?”

“You piss me off too. Because I love you too,” you whisper, forehead against his as your hands cradle his cheeks. Because you do.

When he texts late, and makes your blood boil, it’s only because you love him. When he’s brutally honest and doesn’t say what you want to hear, you’re only mad because you care what he thinks so much. When he’s stubborn and refuses to meet you halfway, you’re only angry because there’s no one else you’d rather cross the bridge with than him.

He pisses you off. You care enough to be pissed because it’s him. And when you piss him off too, he cares enough to deal with it because it’s you.

It’s a funny, twisted little way to love and be loved, but it works. For some odd reason, it does. It’s a seamless, smooth, crackless road.

You don’t ever fix something that’s not broken.

“That doesn’t make sense,” he sighs, resigning himself to your weird, roundabout explanation. You laugh, pinching his cheek as you grin brightly.

“That’s because you’re a bit dim.”

“Yeah,” he rolls his eyes, “okay. Anything else?”

“Yeah, actually. I love you.”

He pauses. Swallows for a moment before his arms tighten their grip on your hips just a smidge before burying his face into your neck and mumbling, “me too. Love you so much, it pisses me off.”

“I like to get under your skin like that,” you stroke his hair, beaming as you add, “guess you’ll just have to deal with it.”

His lips stretch into a small grin before a low, rumbling chuckle breathes itself against your skin. “Guess so.”

————————

a/n: insecure modern! au sukuna who doesn’t admit it and refuses to acknowledge that he’s aware he’s difficult to love and can’t understand why you love him but he also doesn’t want to question it for fear of scaring you away is very near and dear to me and i’ll be talking about it from my grave still. you’ll just hear my ghostly voice spooking you through the night talking about how he’s a softie deep down under all the layers. like an ogre okay? ogres have LAYERS.

[shrimpybbq]

a meeting with the in-laws

anon: high school gf's parents coming back after they've kicked her out once the baby's born and demanding to see their “baby" and it's a whole scene

It had been three days since the newest Cameron had arrived into the world, the small baby boy kicking and screaming like a true warrior. A coked-up Rafe swore he had never seen anything so perfect as when he saw his own little boy clutched tightly within his mother’s arms, his sweet red cheeks chubby and full of life. It had taken some convincing but soon Rafe had his son against his bare chest as he softly stroked at the wisps of hair atop his head. He sat by his sleeping girlfriend’s side, quietly cooing to his son. There in that room lay his whole world, and it was then and there that Rafe made a promise to himself: no-one would hurt either of them for as long as he lived.

Rafe found his first opponents rather quickly. The small family returned to Tannyhill on the third day and began to settle back into the house, bringing their son up to the nursery they had spent hours painting. Rafe had wanted to hire someone to paint the images on the wall but had begrudgingly agreed to help his girlfriend paint them herself when she began tearing up in front of him. They had decided on a space themed nursery after Sarah suggested it. As they settled the sleeping boy in his cot, a loud knock echoed across the property. The new parents ignored it, only to hear mumbled voices from the foyer grow louder and louder. It was with a start that Rafe looked up, his bicep being clutched tightly.

“My parents…they’re here!” she whispered anxiously, her eyes widening as she looked up at him for help, “they told me that I was dead to them Rafe!”

Rafe looked at his sweet girl, taking her into his arms as she began to tremble, hands running soothingly over her back. “Hey, it’s ok. It’s gonna be ok, alright? You’ve got me here and I-I’m not gonna let them treat you like shit, ok,” he muttered. Rafe watched her pull away from him slowly, giving him a small nod as she wiped away the tears that had managed to spill over. He pressed a soft kiss to the crown of her head and whispered encouragingly “you can do this, baby.”

As they made their way down the stairs, it was clear that the Cameron’s did not take kindly to the familiar family standing in their living room. Rafe and Sarah were the two most obvious in their distaste, each wearing matching grimaces and glares. They both watched as her mother immediately ran to hug her daughter,

“Oh sweetie, there you are! My baby all grown up with her own baby - oh I’m so proud of you.”

Rafe watched as his girlfriend stood stiffly in her arms, a distraught expression crossing her face at the words. He couldn’t help but grit his teeth - he had watched as she cried for weeks after her parents kicked her out, her heart broken as they refused to answer her calls. They’d removed her existence from their lives for nine months and now here they were, claiming to love her again? No, that wouldn’t do, Rafe thought.

“Are you, though?” Rafe bit out. He grinned as all eyes turned sharply to him.

“Of course we are, our daughter has given us a strong and healthy grandchild. Why wouldn’t we be?” Her father asked, his tone filled with a certain menacing quality that both Rafe and Ward picked up on. The former ignored his father’s warning glance as he continued to speak.

“What about when you kicked her out, pregnant and alone with no money? Hmm, yeah I thought you’d remember that,” he spat, watching a flicker of shame cross the older woman’s face.

“Rafe that’s en-”

“No, come on Dad, you saw what they did to her, to my son. They didn’t give a shit until he was born, isn’t that right?”

All in the room stood in silence as the tension became so thick it could swallow them whole. It was only the audacity of her father that shattered the silence, “we want to see him.”

Fuck no, Rafe thought. He watched as his girlfriend scampered to his side, her eyes looking up at him pleading. They’d spoken often about her parents and had come to an agreement to keep them away from their family, not trusting their intentions should they come back. Almost imperceptibly, Rafe nodded towards her, a firm squeeze to her hip confirming he understood what she wanted.

“No.”

“W-what did you say to me, boy?”

“I said no. You’re not coming near my son, or my girl, now get the fuck off my property, alright?”

Ward looked between his son and the other grandfather, sighing deeply before coming towards his old friend. He spoke lowly, the rest of the room unaware of their words. It was only when both men turned back to the face their children did they speak.

“You must be very overwhelmed with all those hormones right now, sweetheart. You aren’t in your right mind,” Rafe heard her father say, fists clenching at the audacity he had, “we will come and see you next week. Maybe you could be alone next time.”

The Cameron’s wordlessly watched as Ward escorted her family to their cars. They turned back to see Rafe comforting his girlfriend, her head buried into his chest as she sobbed. Rafe stood there as his blood rushed through his body, his heart pumping rapidly in his chest. This was his first experience being a parent - of feeling a sense of unwavering protectiveness come over him. He knew then that his promise to himself in that hospital chair would never be broken, for he would do everything in his power to keep his family safe. No one would ever hurt them, and as he slowly walked his sweet crying girl back to the nursery, he knew he would kill to keep them safe.

[moonstruckme]

hi!!! wanted to req a poly! marauders x reader where the reader has never had anything inside before so like first time fingering if that’s okay 🫣 totally okay if not, love your work!!!! <3

Hi my sweetheart I’m so sorry I held onto this for sooooooo long but thank you for requesting I love you ! And thanks to @mareagirls for helping me out when I was struggling with the choreography haha <33

cw: smut mdni, fingering, inexperienced reader

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 837 words

Sirius, you think, is treating this all very casually. He’s lying on his stomach between your bent knees, legs kicking idly behind him while he circles your entrance with a finger. 

“Baby.” He looks up at you. “Could you stop being so nervous? I cut my nails for you.” 

“I’m fine,” you say, a bit affronted. 

Remus chuckles. His two fingers move over your clit in rhythmic, dedicated passes. 

“You’re all tensed up, sweetheart,” James clues you in. He’s lying on your other side with one arm cushioning your head. It’s almost like you could be going to sleep, except one of your boyfriends is tormenting your clit while the other attempts the breaking and entering of your cunt. 

“Not breaking,” Sirius had said when you made that joke earlier, looking at you in horror. “It’s going to be fun, not torture, you freak.” 

James’ other hand goes to your side. He gives you a little squeeze, and you gasp, ticklish. “See?” he asks. 

“Jamie,” Remus scolds, but he’s smiling. With his free hand he rubs the underside of your thigh, trying to calm you back down. “You don’t need to worry, dove. We’ll start slow, and we can stop anytime you want, yeah?” 

“I just don’t know how it’s going to feel,” you fret, shifting on the mattress to get comfortable again. 

“The point’s to find out, isn’t it?” Sirius is looking at you like he really wants to know. He holds up his index finger as though to exhibit it. “I’m only going in with the one at first, and slow like Rem said,” he vows. “It shouldn’t hurt.” 

“Definitely say if it hurts,” James agrees. 

You chew your lip, nodding. Sirius’ expression softens. 

“Just tell me if you don’t like it,” he says earnestly. “Say stop and I’ll stop, okay?” 

“Okay,” you say. 

“Good girl,” Remus praises, leaning sideways to kiss the top of your knee. His skillful fingers never stutter.

Sirius makes a soft sound of agreement, and then he slips one finger into your entrance. 

You’re prepared to be shocked, but he’s right; it’s not a substantial intrusion. You almost don’t know it’s there at first, until he swirls it around experimentally and a little “oh” stumbles out of you. Your hips shift. 

“Yeah?” James noses at your cheek, smile audible in his voice. “Not so bad, huh?”

“No,” you agree breathily. 

Sirius grins below you, planting a big kiss on the inside of your thigh. “That’s my girl. You’re so tight, sweetheart, fuck,” he groans, wriggling his finger against your gummy walls. “And your little cunt is so pretty. Next time we should do this with a mirror.” 

“One step at a time,” Remus tells him mildly. But when you push your hips upwards, he obliges you, increasing his pressure on your clit. 

“S’that good, honey?” James’ lips are warm and soft against the column of your throat, teeth barely there as he suckles at your skin. “Do you like having Pads inside you?” 

“Yeah,” you answer him again, voice pitching slightly when Sirius slips another finger inside you. Your eyes squeeze shut. 

“Shh.” James presses a gentle kiss over the mark he’s left. “You’re okay, sweet girl.” His murmurings, sweet and lovely and too quiet for you to understand, trail down your chest until he finds something he likes. His arm slides from beneath your head, hand finding your shoulder and resting there with a soothing weight. 

You know patience isn’t in Sirius’ nature, so you appreciate the restraint he’s using with you now. His fingers sponge in and out of you at an easy pace, shallow and careful. When you find it in yourself to open your eyes, he’s watching you from beneath his lashes, using your expression as his guide while he works you open. 

You moan when James sucks hard at a spot on the underside of your tit. 

“Don’t bruise her,” says Remus, still sour from the mark that’s yet to fade on his left pectoral. 

“Sorry.” James pulls his mouth from your tit, smiling at you sheepishly. “Is it okay if I leave you a pretty little mark, my angel?” 

“No kissing up to get what you want, either,” Remus grumbles, but you nod, and James goes back to what he was doing, albeit more gently. 

“You’re doing so good.” Sirius is leaning his cheek against your thigh now, seemingly lost in his own sort of trance. The weight tips your leg outward so that Remus has to grab your knee to keep him propped up. “So good for me, baby. Now,” his eyes gleam, and you know the look of it well enough to be both excited and a little bit nervous, “how would you like to try the feel of something else inside?” 

“Oh,” you say, caught offguard. “Um, I don’t think I’m ready for…” 

“I meant my tongue, sweetness.” 

“Hey!” James pulls his lips from you with a wet suctioning sound. “No fair, you’ve had your turn already! I want to go.”

[pearlzier]

────⠀ ⠀ oh to sit on dean winchester's face⠀ᥫ᭡

warnings 𓂅 ✶ face sitting, oral (f!recieving), softdom!dean, afab!reader, uhh implied oral(m!recieving) ending.

when dean saw how petulant you were getting, all pissy with him, he knew exactly what was going on. maybe you were feeling pent up, clearly, since every little thing was setting you off and he hated to see you so wound up. you'd been getting on his ass the entire hunt, even being snappy with witnesses—that wasn't like you at all. he'd tried to figure out what was up with you, a million times. it wasn't getting him fucking anywhere.

"you gonna tell me what's up now?" you'd simply frown and look away, and he knows he won't get it out of you in the usual ways of being gentle and comforting. "fine, be like that then," he'd grumble in return, looking back at the steering wheel as he drove around the backwater town you two had found yourself in.

it's getting on his nerves as much as something's definitely getting on yours. dean'll figure it out eventually. he's softer with you in moments like this, not teasing you as much as he usually does so he doesn't piss you off as much. it's like setting off a live wire and he sure as hell ain't in the business to be doing all that. there's a hunt at hand, but he's realising you need sorting out before anything in that regard can get done.

when the two of you get back to a motel you'd grabbed, the hunt still proving fruitless. sam was fuck knows where, having said he wanted to work on some leads with cas, leaving you and dean together. he didn't mind, neither did you, since you two love eachother so damn much, but when you're so temperamental like this? always biting at him? a little hard to enjoy the alone time when he's walking on damn eggshells around you.

but he knew what you needed. needed your pussy ate, that's what. neeeded to get off, somehow, huh? you always got so sharp with him when you were pent up, all horny and frustrated. it was kind of becoming a game of his, see how long he could leave you pent up only to bring you to the edge over and over again till you calmed down.

"gotta come up with other ways to let out your frustration, baby, 'cause bein' horny ain't no excuse to start snappin' at me," he mutters, locking the motel door behind the two of you. you grumble at that, "not horny, just.." knowing full well you're lying through your teeth. how can you not be? like, he looks too damn good when he's impersonating law enforcement, that tight white shirt which he on occasion rolls up to his elbows—fuck, it's like he wants you to be pent up.

"starin' at me like you're gonna eat me whole, sweetheart. can't lie to me," you really can't, dean practically knows you better than you know yourself. his green eyes meet yours and he scoffs.

"that's not fair," you're shrugging off your blazer, hooking it over the coat hook by the door of the motel room. you do notice how dean rakes his eyes over you, seemingly happy with what he's seeing. you know he is, he's told you and shown you countless times in motels rooms quite similar to this one, actually.

dean tugs his tie from around his neck, draping it over the edge of the motel bed before he wanders over to the bed. he kicks off his shoes, leaving them on the floor before laying himself down on his back. he looked up at you with an expectant upwards cock of his brows. "right, you. c'mere," he gestures to his face, hands open for you to come sit yourself down on him and go to town. he barely suppresses a laugh at your expression, but he means it.

"you're not—" you're sceptical. you'd been pissing him off all day with your attitude and instead of being angry at you he's offering his face for you to sit on? you stand there for a moment, gnawing your bottom lip. "really?" your voice is uncharacteristically quiet, and dean softens a little bit at that.

"yeah, really," he slides his hands over the first few buttons of his shirt, in case he gets too warm with you sat over top him, before he gestured you over again. "don't make me drag you over here, y'know i'll do it." he most definitely will. you groan at that, knowing what lies ahead of you. "and you know you wanna."

you really do, that's the issue. he's right. you stare at him, and sigh under your breath. as much as you wanted to resist, be petty, you physically couldn't. "yeah, okay, hold on," you mutter, corners of your lips tugging upwards at the corners. dean practically cheers, he literally lives to please you, to make you feel good.

"just a second," you hum, sliding your hands into the sides of your slacks and easing them down. dean's eyes immediately drop down to your thighs, his tongue darting out to run over his bottom lip before he gazes back up at your face. he nods for you to continue, and you do, stepping out of your trousers and kicking them away from you.

"lookin' real pretty, sweetheart," dean murmurs, smiling softly at the sight of you. he shifts his weight upwards, so he can look at you properly. holding his hands out for you once more, he hums low under his breath. that coaxes you to make your way over to him, albeit the tiniest bit reluctantly still. you're still all tense. he hates seeing you so high strung. making your way over to the bed, your knees dig into the soft mattress, dipping it a little. dean quickly places his hands on your hips, sliding up under the blouse you're wearing.

his eyes rake up and down you, "gorgeous," he mumbles under his breath, squeezing at your flesh in gentle motions. as much as he'd like to worship your whole body right now, he's focused on worshiping a specific part of you right now. "you're okay with this?" he asks, placing a gentle kiss to your navel, eyes lifting back up to yours. "yeah," you murmur, "of course i am." he just needed to make sure.

"yeah? alright, up you get," dean lifts you to the side a little bit, slowly shuffling back down on the bed and laying against the mattress. his head rests against the pillow, eyes fluttering up and down you for a minute. "okay," you're tentative for a moment, reaching for your panties. though dean reaches over and eases them down your thighs for you. he swallows hard at the clear arousal dampening the thin fabric of your underwear, his breath hitching in his throat.

"starin'," you tell him gently, a soft smile playing on your lips at the sight of him. dean's eyes dart back up to yours and she scoffs, gently slapping your thigh a little bit before he grasps at your hips again. "can't wait any longer, up," he murmurs, and you bite your lip for a minute before you grasp at the headboard of the bed. dean's practically salivating, his tongue poking at the inside of his mouth for a minute before he practically tugs you down onto him.

"hold tight for me," dean mumbled, shifting his weight against the bed. just the sight of your bare pussy hovering mere inches above his face has him reeling. without hesitation, he grasps at your hips properly and tugs you down onto him. burying his face between your thighs, he lets his tongue delve into your warm, slick folds—lapping at your clit with a hungry fervour. "fuck, baby.."

you gasp shakily, your breaths picking up almost immediately at the feel of his tongue plunging against your warmth. "oh, shit," you grasp tighter at the bedframe, head tipping back a little bit. your thighs squeeze around his head, and he groans into you at the feeling. he uses the flat of his tongue to spread your wetness around, before his tongue darts back and forth over your clit, suckling at it insistently.

"that's it," dean moans into you, eyes fluttering shut juat at the feeling of your hips rocking up against him. he licks a thick line down your pussy, hiking you up him a little bit. his nose bumping against your clit as he slowly traces his tongue over your entrance. he flutters his tongue against your wet slit, fingers digging into the meat of your thigh a little tighter.

he groans into your cunt, the vibration sending a shiver down your spin and causing your hips to twitch againsr his face again. dean tightens his grip on your hips to try encourage you to grind down against his tongue even more, coaxing louder sounds from you. "holy fucking shit," dean lets out a low laugh against you, smacking your thigh for a moment at that. it only urges you to grind down further.

dean's nothing if not focused when it comes to making you feel good, and as he suckles at your clit, flicking his tongue against it and sucking on it, he's dedicated to the job. "so wet for me, yeah, that's it, ride my face, go on," his words are muffled by his position between your thighs but you can hear them clear enough. he might be throbbing beneath the fabric of his boxers, blood rushing to his dick with every cant of your hips, but he has to make sure you're satisifed first. "that's it, baby."

he runs his hand up between your thighs, lifting his thumb to your clit and rubbing tight circles over the bundle of nerves, feeling the way your thighs squeeze around his head and tremble against him. "dean, dea—" dean squeezes at your thighs to shush you, murmuring against you, "i know, baby, gonna come all over my face." he squeezes at your hips a little tighter, rutting you down against him so he can circle his tongue around your entrance once more. a few more tight circles made by his thumb and your movements stutter, thighs shaking even more as your orgasm hits you.

dean's groaning the whole way, happily lapping up all of your juices with no complaints. the fact he's making you feel good is more than enough for him, more than enough. "shit," he mumbles, laying back for a moment just to take in what just just happened. before he gets a chance to help you off of him, you're easing yourself off him. "that was—hey, where are you goin'—" his eyes widen as you're practically crawling down his body, settling yourself between his thighs.

"can i?" repay the favour, of course. he'd made you feel so good, after all.

dean's in a little daze, his breathing heavy. he lifts his hand to wipe his face of your release, blinking for a minute. sliding up the headboard, his hand moves to the back of your head easily and he mutters, "like you even gotta ask, baby." his free hand unbuttons his trousers with ease, "all yours."

ִ ֹ ★ @blue-d, @gibson-g1rl, @stevelacylovebot, @psychicnatural, @funkycoloured, @lovesickgrlsrh0t, @soldierboycunt, @hrtsoldierboy, @beetlejenna, @venusiers, @v3nusasagrl, @imwetforyourmom, @https--roman, @pillwebb, @beridollie, @sl33pylilbunny, @sincerebabydoll, @angelicjackles, @deansbite ִ ꒱

[mrsimpurity]

belonging to old man logan… 

cw: smut (p in v), oral sex (m receiving), cum play, daddy kink, age gap

not as in being a sex slave. you’re free to do whatever you want, of course… you just don’t want to. so all you do is hang around the cozy villa all day (often topless), the one that he bought just for the two of you, away from the city stress, and wait for him to come back from work.

“did you miss me, doll?” logan asks right after he shuts the front door, taking his suit jacket off. you’re throwing yourself at him already, popping the buttons on his dress shirt open. button by button, you start placing chaste kisses on his abs, making your way down to his pants as you sink down on your knees.

“eager today, are we?” logan looks down at you, smiling at the sight of his favorite little thing down on her knees, unzipping his pants with her teeth. 

“mhm.” you mumble, now too busy with taking his cock out of his boxer briefs.

logan was sure that there was no better way to be greeted after a long and tiresome day. his cock was already at half-mast. just looking at you, so obedient and impatient, made him want to take you right then and there. but he’d let you have your fun, for now.

you spit on logan’s cock, taking your hand and smearing your saliva up and down his length. you start by tracing the vein on his cock with your tongue, looking up at him through your eyelashes. then you place kitten licks on the tip of his cock, where you know he’s most sensitive. logan grabs a handful of your hair and forces your mouth away.

“don’t. tease.” he hisses through his teeth. you apologetically place one last kiss on his girth and get to work, taking his entire length into your mouth. his hold on your hair remains, guiding you and increasing the speed as the warmthness of your mouth edges him towards his orgasm. 

after a while, he stops you in your tracks with a tug of your makeshift ponytail. you whine, wondering why he’s suddenly pulling you away. 

“it’s okay, doll. i know you wanna please daddy.” he speaks with a softer tone, pitying your pathetic expression. your eyes are glossy now and you’re pouting up at him. logan can’t help but get even harder. he picks you up by the waist and throws you over his shoulder, kicking the bedroom door open and setting you down on the bed moments later. you immediately know what you’re supposed to do - so you take your t-shirt off in one swift motion, and wiggle your way out of your shorts and panties.

“cmon, ass up, baby. ‘m getting impatient.” logan says, now completely discarding his dress shirt on the floor and doing the same with his pants and boxer briefs. you follow his command, getting on all fours on the bed. logan grabs the globes of your ass, kneading the fat lovingly. his fingers go to tease at your folds, rubbing up and down to find you soaking wet already. 

“my girl’s always ready for me.” logan points out with a rub to your clit. your ears perk up at the praise and a small smile appears on your face as you wiggle your ass in the air, urging him to hurry up. he chuckles as he grabs his girth, giving it a few strokes before he eases his tip inside you, slowly sinking himself in your pussy. you’re always such a tight fit, like he’s fucking you for the first time, logan thinks to himself. with him getting older, it’s harder to keep up with your needs and impossibly high sex drive, but he tries to make it up to you on most nights, when he’s not too tired.

his thrusts start out slow, as they always do. he goes easy on you when he first enters you because he’s sure the sheer size of his cock is a tad bit painful for you. logan grabs a hold of your hips, picking up the pace as the sounds of his cock thrusting in you fill the room. his balls slap against your ass, your tits jiggling as logan pulls out and slams his cock in your pussy again and again. you moan and pant, back arching as your elbows soon give out from the vigor with which his hips roll against you. you fall face down on the pillows and your hand scrambles as you reach behind your back with a desperate whine. logan gets the hint and intertwines his fingers with yours as your velvety walls clench around him. 

“i’m close.” you moan out, squeezing him harder, chasing that blissful moment of ecstasy. his thrusts don’t falter as his cock hits your g-spot repeatedly, making you whine out in pleasure. 

“i know, doll. i can feel you.”

with a final thrust, you feel yourself cumming around logan’s cock, your pussy pulsating. the feeling of you clenching around him makes his thrusts get sloppier as his own orgasm approaches. 

“you’re so good to me, baby.” logan says, grunting as he empties himself inside you, his warm cum filling your hole. the two of you stay like that for a moment, savoring the irreplaceable feeling of postcoital warmth. he pulls out after a while, his seed dripping out of your cunt. the sight is awfully erotic and you turn around at the feeling, only to see logan put his fingers inside you again. his digits, now covered in not only his cum, but yours, reach for your face. you don’t have to hear him say it to know what he wants. you open your mouth, allowing him to put his fingers inside. your tongue swirls around logan’s fingers, and you suck teasingly as he finally takes them out of your mouth with a “pop”, instead grabbing your face adoringly, rubbing soft circles on your cheekbone as a smile lights up your face.

“we taste really good.” you speak, now turning around to fully face him, knees still on the bed, as his frame towers above you. 

logan grabs your nape and lowers his head down to meet your lips in a sloppy kiss, tongue entering your mouth and completely captivating you. it’s messy, it’s addicting, it’s everything, the feeling and taste of his cum and saliva filling your mouth.

“you’re right, doll.” logan murmurs against your lips, breaking the kiss as a string of drool connects the two of you. 

and in that moment, as he stares into your eyes, slowly caressing the back of your head, logan and you share a thought - “i don’t mind spending the rest of my days like this.”

[k9wa]

⟁ A BULLET A DAY, ft. BOOTHILL.

⠀ — where teasing, annoying, poking and prodding all fall under the same category; flirting.

⚠︎︎ more mechanic! reader, gn, boothill being an idiot, flirting, suggestive, he has fake teeth to me, something about tension + leaving him high and dry is soooo ….

from this request !

it’s a miracle, truly, how boothill manages to be so tempting and endearing yet so utterly irritating and infuriating at the same time. 

and it’s hot, sure, but that just makes it all the more annoying, leaves you frustrated and with an odd pool in your stomach.  

boothill managed his way into your supply of bullets, happily tossing back the brass casings like a simple snack. it was a genius idea at the time, really, giving him a stomach that can store ammunition. though had you expected him to chew on the damn things instead of swallowing them— you know, like he was intended to— you would’ve just given him a little side bag to save yourself the work.

you half hoped the lead stuffing the things would seep into his still intact brain, but chastised yourself for the thought soon after having it. you don’t hate him that much. your brain should check back and try the thought again in twenty minutes. 

“y’know what’d be real neat, buttercup?” boothill’s legs were kicked up lazily on your workbench as he sat next to you, waiting for you to finish a small modification on his revolver. “spikes in my boots.” he lifted a foot up, rolling his ankle a bit. “you know, them retractable ones. be able t’a have some real fun with those things.”

you snorted, his efforts to dodge his synesthesia beacon as entertaining as always.

“since when do i take requests?” you asked, eyes focused down on your work— far too used to his antics to lift your head anymore.

“since when d’you deny gettin’ to tinker with me?”

he brought his feet down to the floor and leaned forward on his thighs, the denim of his pants tightening around them. “what, gonna make me say please and thank ya now?” 

you truly wanted to reply, say it wasn’t a half bad idea and that you’d look into the upgrade. until he started shaking a few bullets around in his palm like they were fucking almonds.

now boothill noticed the clench of your jaw, and oh how he revelled in it. he’s fully aware how the crunching of brass and lead peeves you, ie. you telling him to knock it off an hour ago— (“it ain’t hurtin’ nobody, is it now?”—) but you’re just so darn cute when you’re ticked off. he’s gotta push your buttons just a lil bit. 

“somethin’ the matter?” the way his sharp teeth gleamed through that damn grin weren’t doing anything to help. 

he took a bullet between his thumb and forefinger, the shiny gunmetal digits pinching the ammunition as he held it up next to you. “d’ya care for one, sugar plum?”

fine, you thought. two can play that game.

you tore your attention away from the old steel revolver, finally turning to look at him. boothill prepared for an insult, one he’d tell you was ‘flatterin’ and all,’ but it didn’t come.

you leaned towards his hand, keeping your eyes locked with his that glowed a familiar and faint red. 

then you took the bullet between your tongue and top front teeth, gently pulling it out of his hands with your mouth.

his smirk actually dropped— you’d think someone stuck an infected usb into his ear with all the ideas that flooded the forefront of his brain, making his circuits just tingle with excitement. something about the hot single mechanic in his area.

you turned back to your desk, removing the bullet from your teeth and twirling it between your fingers idly as you gave a once over to his revolver, as if nothing had happened.

boothill blinked, chuckling gruffly with a shake of his head as he slumped back in his chair, flicking another bullet into the air with his thumb and catching it in his palm with a gentle clink! the cyborg gave a low whistle as he kicked his feet back up.

“ain’t you somethin’,” he drawled, earning a chuckle from you. “y’sure know how t’keep a man on his toes, don’t ya buttercup?” 

“i dunno what you mean, boothill.” you only offered a hum, willfully ignorant to boothill’s colourful imagination.

“oh i’m real sure y’don’t.” he shook his head, another chuckle rumbling his chest and sending a shiver down your neck.

“say,” he leaned towards you, his shoulder to yours, feeling a little lucky and dropping his voice to a knee-weakening purr, “if that pretty mouth a’yers likes metal, i’m more’en happy t’a—” 

“all done.”

all bets go down the drain. boothill deadpanned as you clicked the barrel of his gun into place and handed it back to him, standing up to stretch your arms.

“shops closed for today,” you fold them, leaning back against your bench. “you better get a move on before i have to kick you out.”

boothill’s eyes trailed up your figure, taking his sweet time finding your face. the cowboy raised an eyebrow into a cocky arch despite him swearing his body was on the verge of its cooling protocol. 

“you keep woundin’ me, sugar.” 

“i dunno what you mean, boothill.”

⠀ 𑣲 MASTERLIST / GOT A REQUEST ?

[pepperyduck]

pins & needles

summary: how various jjk men react to ur new/unnoticed piercings! incl. nanami, gojo, geto, choso

warnings: veryyyyyyy suggestive (esp in nanami's), (new) piercings, geto's & nanami's is a new relationship type thing. excuse any typos pls😞. 18+ mdni!

a/n: i got like 3 new piercings over the weekend, this is just self indulgent and cute methinks. also tyyy for 700 :3, i'm trying so hard to get over the writer's block. love u all!

choso + smiley piercing!

"i've never been happier to see you," choso groans as soon as he enters your dorm, kicking off his shoes at the door. though his voice is monotone, you can infer he's tired, worn out from a day's work and fighting curses.

"rough day?" you scoot over in bed to allow room for your boyfriend, smoothing out the sheets and flipping your blanket up.

"very." the singular word is the only response choso gives before beginning to strip his uniform right in front of you. as you're watching intently, choso gets almost completely naked before grabbing some clothes he'd left over; a pair of baggy pants and an "i heart my girlfriend" shirt that you gifted him, and lazily putting them on.

"i did something today, cho," you inform him, and choso’s attention immediately snaps to you, eyes showing that he was obviously wondering.

"what’d you do?"

you give him a bright smile, all the teeth in your mouth shown to him, the shiny ring glistening atop your pretty gums. choso’s brows furrow together, his pupils coming to realize there was something new in your mouth, something different about your smile.

"what’s…that?" he asks, stepping closer and closer and eventually sitting on the bed with you. you giggle at his curious looking, his eyebrows still knitted together in an inquisitive way.

"a piercing, silly," you inform him, carefully flipping up your top lip to show where the jewelry went through the frenulum of your inner lip.

"does it hurt?" choso leans in even more, straightening his eyes with the freshly pierced hole in your mouth.

"not really, just a little bit," you tell him, letting go of your lip and pressing a quick peck to choso’s lips. it catches him off-guard, choso’s face lights up red because he thought he couldn’t kiss you. smiling triumphantly, you pull away from your boyfriend.

"it—um—it looks really pretty on you." choso compliments, "can i kiss you again? please?" and he’s so sincere and sweet, always asking permission for everything. so endearing, really, even with his deep, dark voice.

needless to say, when he kisses you again, choso is making sure to flick the jewelry all around with his tongue, faintly enough to not hurt the new wound. and it becomes a habit from thereon.

gojo + bellybutton piercing!

"i missed you so much, baby."

satoru is on top of you, arms caging you in while you lay underneath him, smiling and feebly grasping the biggest part of his bicep. it had been over a month since you'd seen your husband, he'd been away on a business trip for far too long.

"did you miss me?" his words are drawn out and dramatic, like always, like he was teasing you—but he was practically always teasing you.

"yes, satoru," you blankly reply, "i missed you."

just before you can roll your eyes, gojo's kissing you, a bit enthusiastically, but you quickly melt into his touch. as annoying as he could be, you loved him, you missed him. you had longed for him the moment he left—that was a fact you couldn’t deny.

as quickly as he meets your lips, satoru leaves, disconnecting himself to trail down your torso that was draped in a way-too-expensive t-shirt of his. but the one thing that doesn't leave you is his eyes, he keeps an intense stare on your face as he moves lower and lower towards your waistline. his fingertips dance along your sides before pinching the fabric of the bottom of the shirt and slowly lifting it up.

his eyes are no longer able to stay on yours when he catches a glimpse of the sparkly blue rhinestones on each ball of the jewelry stuck through your navel. of course, you chose the shade that best matched satoru's eye color.

"no way!" satoru exclaims, beaming with a new-found excitement for the little hole in your tummy, "you actually did it?"

"yes, satoru," you repeat, threading your fingers through the white tufts of your husband's hair.

gojo's nimble fingers come to play with the jewelry—the size comparison comedic from how large his hands are. he studies the now fully healed wound, moving the jewelry all around and practically forgetting the previous heated mood.

"do you like it?" you somewhat nervously ask, intimidated by the tedious investigation of your bellybutton.

"yes, duh," satoru dramatically quips, "you think i should get one next?"

nanami + nipple piercing!

kento had tried so hard to ignore it.

you didn't mean to distract him, really. it was a simple mishap at first, not wearing a bra when kento came over. but after the first time, he didn't seem to mind, he was gentlemanly enough. his eyes stayed averted—when you were looking at him, at least—so you took it as a green flag to remain braless when he was at your house without worry.

but nanami's only a man.

so here you are, after work, after your boyfriend had come over, ranting to him in your kitchen about your boss and whatever bullshit you had to put up with that day. but your words land upon deaf ears, noise drowned out by the sight of the little hearts poking out from the shirt you're wearing. he's sat at your dining table, legs lazily spread as he half-listens to you.

"—like, what?! what else am i supposed to do in that situation?"

for the first time in your venting session, you lock eyes with kento, noticing how they flash up quickly from...your chest.

"ken?"

"um—yes?" he chokes, a little too obviously for him to not be embarrassed over.

a smug smile rests over your face, nanami was caught red handed, ogling at your boobs and the cute heart-shaped jewelry that adorned them.

"what'cha staring at?" trailing closer to him with a teasing tone in your voice, you're killing him, embarrassing the poor man as the seconds roll on. kento doesn't reply either, only a raspy breath leaving his lungs as his response. his face heats up and his expression drops, shamelessly glancing down at your chest once more—one, two—counting the peaks of your nipples through the shirt.

"i'm sorry," he finally chokes out, unable to keep his eyes from flashing up and down, to your eyes then to your chest, again and again.

without any words, you slot yourself between nanami's legs, inching your chest closer to his face. it was so funny how easily his stoic persona disintegrated under your presence. he'd never been this close to your chest—to you. and it's intoxicating to him, he's ashamed how he loses himself by simply being eye level with your boobs.

but that guilt quickly washes away when you take his hand and place it perfectly to cup your tit—index finger and thumb resting right around the pretty jewelry under your shirt.

tdlr; that's the first night your boyfriend stays over at your place.

geto + clavicle piercing!

"you look lovely tonight."

smooth as ever, geto compliments you, his voice dripping with a sweet nectar. your insides warm up despite the harsh cold outside, the thick coat draped over your frame doing little to combat the weather.

"thank you," you whisper and smile at him, stepping into the door of the fancy restaurant suguru had chosen for your date. third date, to be exact.

once you're at your table, suguru helps you shimmy the bulky jacket off your shoulders, revealing the tasteful, deep-cut top you had chosen for your date—along with the two studs on each side of your collarbone that your clothing showed off rather perfectly.

it takes suguru a few moments to notice once he sits down. he tries to strike up conversation, relying on the simple questions and responses he can utter without getting too distracted. however, within a few minutes, geto is cracking, eyes every so often flickering down to the gems that aligned your clavicle so prettily. he can't help it, because with every slight movement you make, the jewelry sparkles in the dim light of the restaurant—it's hard to ignore.

"are you okay?" you interrupt your previous dialogue when you take note of geto's increasingly hazy replies, and how he seems a bit spaced out.

"yeah," suguru swallows deeply, "i really like your—um," his pointer finger vaguely motions to his own collarbone, and you have to look down at your chest before you realize what he’s talking about.

his mouth is dry. he’d already thought you were, like, the sexiest woman on earth, but this, oh this, was just too much. geto was unsure as to why he found the piercings so distracting, so hot, but nonetheless enjoyed the view he had.

"oh, thank you!" you giggle, smiling brightly and ghosting your fingers over the piercings—you’d honestly forgotten that this would be the first time he’s seen this much of your body, and the piercings ended up being the perfect touch to make suguru lose his mind.

and he can't wait until he's able to feel on 'em, too.

[sugugasm]

“YES MA’AM? . . MORE LIKE YES MOMMY ! ” | jjk + aot

⟡ tags : sukuna + toji + gojo + nanami — a compilation of your favs and how they submit to you . . . content includes positions such as rimming, begging, thigh humping, handjob, blowjob, overstim??, size kink, bondage, pet names used ‘bby, pretty boy, mommy,’ etc. MDNI 19+ 8.0K WC

SUKUNA | bondage + slight handjob + cunninlingus

“oi, princess — gonna’ sit there all night or get this shit over with already?” sukuna questions you, who’s sitting rather delightfully for someone who knew damn well they were in a work of trouble after all this was over with, and as much as he would’ve loved to be the one to end this little power trip you were on, there were some . . obstacles in the way.

to name a few of those said obstacles : the infamous king was currently in a little bit of a knot, muscles on display as his usual mischievous smirk was now being replaced by a rather adorable scowl. his strong arms were bound behind his back, ropes digging into his skin all over — and oh! his thick dick, around 9-ish inches, standing proud and tall against his stomach, thumping every time you came near him. you knew he hated this - more than anything, but to see him surrendering, succumbing to you and only you . .

it was definitely something you’d take a few extra spanks to the ass for later.

“my, my . . don’t go gettin’ all bossy on me, kuna. are you forgetting who’s in charge?” you whisper near his ear, moving a hand to stroke his shaft slowly. you were like a shark scenting blood in water the way your hand began to move in circles, “look at you . .”

his eyes flashed with indignation even as his cock jumped at your words, flushed and leaking against his chiseled abdomen. “i should tear you from limb to limb for this — just for the fun of it, really.”

you chuckled darkly, fisting a hand in his hair and yanking his head back. “you should . . but you won’t. right? because deep down, you want to submit to me, don’t you, sukuna? wanna’ be brought to heel, made to beg and plead for release . .”

he snarled wordlessly but didn't deny it, straining against his bonds. you could see the conflict in his eyes, immense pride warring with dark, forbidden desire. slowly, testing, you trailed your fingers down his heaving chest, once again skimming teasingly light over his throbbing erection. he twitched, a strangled groan escaping through his gritted teeth. “just give in,” you coaxed silkily, cupping his heavy sack, rolling it in your palm. “surrender to me and i’ll make you feel so good, better than you ever imagined . .”

he glared up at you from the chair, mutinously but you could feel his resolve crumbling. grinding his jaw, he gave a single, jerky nod. triumph and dark arousal surged through you. the king of curses, deadly and proud, was yours to command.

unhurriedly, you stripped off your thin robe and kicked it aside. his corvine eyes raked over your bare form, pupils blown with lust. “open,” you instructed, stepping close and fisting his hair again. obediently, he parted his lips, letting you guide his face to your aching center.

the first hot swipe of his tongue between your folds made you gasp and shudder. he lapped at you again, more firmly, clearly savoring your taste. “that’s it,” you praised breathlessly, grinding against his face. “finally put that mouth to good use, make me drip all over you, yeah?”

he snarled into your cunt, tongue delving deeper, flicking over your throbbing clit. you keened, yanking at his hair as shocks of pleasure radiated through you. he licked and sucked voraciously, making obscene wet sounds as he ate you out. the fact that he was just about on his damn knees, servicing you, nearly undid you all on its own. “f-fuck, kuna,” you whined, head thrown back as he tongue-fucked your entrance, rubbing his nose against your clit. “jus’ like that, don’t stop, gonna’ c-cum, baby . .”

he moaned into you, doubling his efforts, devouring your cunt like a man starved. your thighs shook, stomach tightening as you hurtled towards your peak. you felt his teeth graze your clit and you shattered with a sharp cry, gushing into his eager mouth as you came — and he lapped up every drop, working you through the aftershocks until you had to push his head away, too sensitive. panting, you looked down at him, taking in his glossy, slick chin and wild, feverish eyes. “such a good boy,” you purred, thumbing over his wet, swollen lips. “i think you’ve earned a reward . .”

TOJI | blowjob + handcuffs lol :3

“color?” you checked as you finished securing toji’s cuffs to the headboard, sitting back to survey your handiwork.

“green,” he rasped immediately, testing the bonds. they held fast, keeping him splayed beneath you, entirely at your mercy. “very fuckin’ green.”

you smiled, trailing light fingers down his chest, teasing his dusky nipples. “good. y’know what to say if it gets to be too much.”

he shook his head stubbornly even as he arched into your touch with a bitten-off groan. “won’t need to. i can take anything you dish out.”

“mhmm, we’ll see about that,” you mused, pinching and tugging at his sensitive nubs until he was writhing. “by the time m’ done, you’ll be all fucked out.”

he shuddered, cock twitching where it lay thick and flushed against his abs, leaking steadily. “do your worst, sweetheart,” he goaded, eyes sparking challenge. grinning fiercely, you set about taking him apart with hands and mouth, mapping every ridge and valley of his powerful body. you traced the v cut of his hips with your tongue, mouthed teasingly at his inner thighs, ghosted hot breath over his aching cock. he cursed and bucked beneath you, muscles bunching and straining uselessly against the metal cuffs as you worked him into a frenzy.

“oh god . . fuck, [ ★ ], please,” he finally burst out as you lapped kitten-ishly at his weeping cockhead. “s-stop teasin’ me, baby!”

“i told you you’d beg, didn’t i?” you asked smugly, swirling your tongue around his throbbing cock. “ask me nicely for what you want, toji. maybe i’ll give it to you . .”

he threw his head back with a tortured groan, tendons standing out in stark relief as he fought his body's demands. “please,” he grated out. “please suck my cock. i need your mouth on me so bad —” you cut him off by swallowing him down to the hilt in one swift motion, nose nestling in his wiry curls. “a-agh, fuck!” he shouted, hips jerking instinctively, trying to fuck into your tight, wet throat. you held his bucking hips down easily, working him hard and fast, just the way he liked.

“fuck, baby, y-yes,” he babbled, head thrashing on the pillow. “god, your mouth, so fuckin’ good t’me . . m’not gonna’ last like this.”

you pulled off long enough to rasp out, “then don’t. i want to taste you, want you to come for me,” before sinking back down on him, humming around his thickness. toji cried out brokenly as his orgasm crashed into him, pulsing hot and bitter over your tongue. you worked him through it greedily, milking him until he was twitching and gasping from the intensity. when you finally released him, he was flushed and glassy - eyed, chest heaving as he came down.

“told you i could take it,” he slurred, a loopy half-smile tugging at his lips.

“aww, baby,” you whispered wickedly, crawling up his body to hover over him. “we’re jus’ gettin’ started.”

SATORU | rimming + toru calls you mommy

“tell me what you want,” you murmured as you trailed open-mouthed kisses down satoru’s quivering tummy, fingertips skimming teasingly light over his trembling inner thighs. “i’ll give you anything, everything, jus’ tell me . .”

he whined low in his throat, hips canting up needily as you breathed hot over his rigid cock, lips a mere whisper from his fevered skin. “please, [★], i need . .” he babbled, voice high and thready with desperation. “i need you inside me, opening me up, fucking m-me deep. please, please, please . .”

“shhh, i’ve got you love,” you soothed, pressing a kiss to his dripping cockhead even as you circled a slick finger around his fluttering rim. “jus’ relax for me, let me take care of you, honey.” — and he did, head lolling back and thighs falling open wantonly as you carefully breached him, sinking your finger into his clutching hole. he was so soft and smooth inside, muscles gripping your digit hungrily as you started a gentle in and out rhythm.

his cock twitched and leaked against his belly, untouched, as you worked him open reverently, carefully adding a second finger when he was pliant enough. he moaned brokenly, bearing down on the stretch and burn, greedy for more. “y-yes, like that,” he panted, hands fisting in the sheets. “fuck, it feels so good, mommy . .”

“i know, i know . . you’re such a good boy, huh? letting me touch you like this, letting me relax you,” you coo, and on that note, you twisted your wrist, crooking your fingers just right, and satoru jolted like he’d been nearly electrocuted, a ragged shout tearing from his throat.

“t-there!” he cried out, back arching clear off the mattress. “oh fuck, [★], right there, please!” you aimed for that spot mercilessly, milking his prostate with every push and pull of your hand. he was babbling wordlessly now, head thrashing on the pillow, legs shaking and stomach muscles fluttering as his pleasure mounted.

you knew he was close when his cock started to twitch and jerk against his belly, drooling copiously. anticipation coiled hot and tight in your gut as you fingered him faster, pressing hard on that secret bundle of nerves. “c’mon, toru,” you coaxed breathlessly, transfixed by the erotic sight of him. “let go for me, cum on mommy’s fingers.”

satoru does as he’s told, back bowing nearly in half as his orgasm ripped through him with a strangled cry of your name. hot ropes of pearly cum striped his chest and abs as he pulsed and clenched rhythmically around your fingers, milking them for all he was worth. you gentled him through the aftershocks, drawing out his pleasure until he was boneless and trembling, floating in post orgasmic bliss.

slowly, you withdrew your fingers, ignoring his whimper of loss. “you did so well,” you praised, kissing his slack, parted lips. “my perfect boy. think you can get it up for me one more time? wanna’ feel it splitting me open . .”

NANAMI | face sitting + he rides your thigh

nanami knelt naked and trembling, lean muscles pulled taut in anticipation as he waited for your next command. his hard, flushed cock jutted proudly from between his powerful thighs, dripping steadily onto the carpet. you’d been teasing him for what felt like hours, keeping him on a razor’s edge of pleasure and pain, never quite letting him find relief in any way at all.

“baby,” he finally rasped, voice scraped raw from begging. “please, [★], i need you.”

“mm-mm, tell me, kento,” you demanded, pacing around his kneeling form slowly. “tell me exactly what you need.”

he shuddered bodily, adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. “i-i need to cum, please, i’ll do anything, just let me cum — i can’t take anymore . .”

“hmmm.” you pretended to consider, though arousal simmered molten in your veins at his desperate plea. “you beg so pretty, baby. maybe . . maybe you’ve earned it, whaddo’ya say?”

“y-yeah, yes, yes,” he babbled, hope and relief suffusing his handsome face. “i’ll be so good for you, i swear, just tell me what you want from me -”

“your mouth,” you interrupted, fisting a hand in his hair and tugging his head back, baring the strong column of his throat. “i wanna’ ride your face til’ i cum, paint you in me. and if you do a good job, i’ll let you hump my thigh like the desperate slut you are until you make a mess all over both of us. how does that sound?”

“absolutely fucking perfect,” he breathed, pupils blown wide and dark with need. “anything, i want to taste you, wanna’ be soaked in you, sweetheart . .” you didn’t need to hear much further, moaning low in your throat, you sank down fully, your fingers weaving into his thick hair as smothered his face between your thighs. he immediately sealed his hot mouth over your dripping sex, lapping at you broad and greedy. you cried out sharply, hips rocking into the perfect pressure, luxuriating in the wet sounds of his enthusiasm.

he licked deep into your core, nose nudging your throbbing clit, hitting all your most sensitive spots with unerring accuracy. familiar heat started coiling deep in your belly as he worked you relentlessly, taking you apart with lips and tongue and just a hint of teeth.

“oh fuck, kento, s’ s’good . .” you gasped, grinding shamelessly against his face, chasing your pleasure. “you’re s’good for me, so perfect — m’getting close!”

he groaned into your cunt, doubling his efforts, tongue fluttering hummingbird-quick over your clit as he finger fucked your hungry cunt. your thighs quaked, pressure building to an impossible crescendo deep inside. you were already just seconds from shattering apart. then he curled his fingers just right, hitting that spot that made your vision white out as he sucked hard on your aching nub, and you were gone. completely gone. back arching, breath seizing, you came with a hoarse cry, gushing slick over his face and fingers as exquisite pleasure crashed through you in relentless waves.

he worked you through it, drawing out your peak until you were too sensitive and had to push him away weakly. panting, you looked down at him, his chin and cheeks glazed with your essence, eyes fever-bright as he stared up at you in awe. “was that - was i good?” he croaked, lips and chin shiny with your juices.

“so good,” you assured him, thumbing over his swollen mouth before bringing your slick fingers to your own lips for an indulgent taste. “now come here and take what you need. you've earned it.”

groaning brokenly, he surged up to wrap his arms around your hips desperately, rutting his painfully hard cock against your thigh. you held him steady as he took his pleasure, hips snapping frantically, chasing his long-awaited release.

“that’s it, kento,” you cooed, carding your fingers through his sweaty hair as he panted and mewled into your neck. “fuck my thigh just like that, get it all wet n’ filthy with your cum . .”

his broken sob was muffled against your throat as he finally let go, pulsing hot and messy between your bodies as he came completely untouched. you gentled him through it, murmuring praise and reassurance as he shook and gasped and clutched you like a lifeline.

after long moments, he gradually calmed, breath evening out. you continued to stroke his hair, his back, holding him close in the warm afterglow.

“you did so well, sweet boy,” you murmured into his hair. “took everything i gave you so beautifully. m’ so proud of you.”

he whimpered quietly, nuzzling into your neck. “thank you,” he rasped. “for letting me be good for you. i needed that so much.”

“i know baby.” you pressed a tender kiss to his temple. “you’re always s’good for me. my perfect, pretty boy. now let’s get you cleaned up and into bed. want me to hold you?”

he nodded against your skin, clinging tighter. you smiled, heart full to bursting with affection. seeing him like this - open, vulnerable, trusting you so implicitly - was a gift you’d never stop being grateful for, and one that’d never stop giving.

“i got you, ken,” you promised as you gathered him closer, turning to lead him to bed. “i’ll always take care of you, baby. always.”

SATORUBI 2024 | pls do not copy, steal, or modify my work !!! happy reading, luv u sluts <3 also tagging my bff @ramonathinks

[gfguren]

a little bit unwell at the thought of an inexperienced katsuki, a little bit older, and a lot a bit lost when you lean in for a kiss for the very first time. you with your cherry chapped lips and those hearts in your eyes, and he's so fucking scared that he's gonna fuck it up that he pushes you away with a hand at your chest and an absolutely mortified look in his eyes.

but you just laugh, in that way of yours that always puts him at ease; light and easy and comforting though he knows he doesn't deserve it. he should be the one comforting you—hell, you probably think he doesn't want you now—but he does, always has for as long as he can remember. and he figures he's supposed to tell you that—it's what he should do in a situation like this, his therapist would tell him—but the words catch in his chest, honesty in his throat like sticky caramel that he just can't seem to cough up.

"sorry," you speak first, and he wants to kick himself for it, "i should have asked."

he doesn't miss the way your feet shuffle, or the small quiver in your smile. you're trying to be considerate of his feelings as if he's not holding yours at arms length. his fingers curl against your collar, thumb brushes the top button of your blouse. there's a far-too-long moment where he just looks at you before he sighs with his entire chest.

"katsuki?" your voice is tentative, sweet. you look so pretty in the yellow porchlight, lovestruck eyes a little teary at the corners. he crumbles at the heart, coils around your finger like a garden snake.

"don't have ta," there's a tremor, a ravine that splits the deep valleys of his voice, "don't have t'ask f'r shit, just,—"

your head tilts, fingertips tracing the veins up his wrist until they can slip past his knuckles, "just?"

he puffs a breath of hot air, goes a little red in the face. "just fuckin'," his unfettered hand tugs impatiently at wily blonde strands. "—just kiss me, alright?"

he feels stupid, downright embarrassed, but you shine like sunlight at daybreak, smile brighter than every star above his head. "can i?"

"what did i just, mmph,"—

—sugar sweet, glossed lips in the flavor of maraschino cherry—you're kissing him, and he's stiff as a board, lost on what to do with himself—where to put his hands, how to kiss you back. "relax katsuki," your nose bumps his, voice lulling his worries to rest, "you're doing fine."

you've figured him out, fingered his exact insecurity and decided you don't mind it at all. typical, he thinks. his lips find yours if only so you don't catch the smile that he can't seem to help. you feel it though, even when his teeth knock clumsily against your own, both hands at your collar now, using it as leverage to draw you closer.

he's rosy at the cheeks, camellia pink up to his ears by the time he pulls away. "was that,"—wrong? bad? embarrassing? he groans, "nevermind."

your forehead rests against his own, gentle, careful palms moving to cradle his face like you've never treasured anything more. "it was good," of course it was, even if it wasn't. because it's katsuki, and you love him, you love him, you love him.