#this was even harder HHHH

[kikidewynter]

johnny gat for the song prompt!

git up, git out — outkast ft. goodie mob

[starriddenmess]

making a software for your robot partner where they can't overload.. and it just keeps on teasing them over and over and over. Always on edge, making them so so rough and needy for you.

[sysig]

Just be honest! (Patreon)

Bonus:

Could be :)

[ridl]

So like with ganqing

Who fell first and who fell harder?

Hmm, not sure if i have a truly definite answer. It could go either ways - Keqing realizes her feelings first because she's analytical, she quickly notices all the changes in herself in regards to Ganyu. And Ganyu is more of the quiet type, who also doesn't think abt doing things for herself. Being like 3000+ could also mean she's fine with living alone, she doesn't necessarily need romance. Maybe even neither of them need it. But eventually she realizes that maybe she can take a chance at some new happiness, at sharing a life with someone. So once it hits her how much she cares about Keqing, it kinda just hits very strongly all at once. It becomes a strong want that she's finally willing to follow, despite her withdrawn nature. - Ganyu realizes her feelings first because her experiences with Keqing taught her to be bolder, to live more for herself and pursue her own wants and happiness. On the other hand, Keqing is focused on her dream of building the new era of Liyue, she's straightforward but cares about boundaries, so maybe she's not aware just yet of what she's actually feeling for Ganyu, who's fully supporting Keqing in that goal. And once she realizes those feelings, it hits her all at once like "oh. i'm in love with her. of course!", and she basically immediately wants to act upon it, because that's just how she is.

[supercorgibuns]

[4giorno]

on day 5 artemy and daniil go to the bar at noon and talk at each other like this

[jadeneppy]

Missin techno again :((

[pomefioredove]

"your lips would look so much better on mine" with idia please,,

hhhh confident idia brainrot is taking over help.. ALSO I LOVE YOUR WORK SO MUCHH TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF

OOH A CHALLENGE FOR ME. I will do my best for you anon!

summary: "your lips would look so much better on mine" type of post: short fic characters: idia additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu, not proofread, a game of chicken :)

If there's anything Idia Shroud is, it's competitive.

Over months of your friendship, you've learned one sure thing about him: challenging Idia to a game is a death sentence.

It's not just that he's played just about everything; it's that if he hasn't, he'll pick it up within minutes. And he'll play to the death.

"You've got a warrior's spirit, alright," you mutter, watching him pummel your character for the thousandth time.

Idia pauses his victory lap to smirk. "Awww, mad? Gonna rage quit?"

"I won the second time!"

He rolls his eyes, pushing his hair out of his face just for it to fall back into place right after.

"I let you win, okay? It was a pity round. You suck at fighting games,"

"I do not!"

"Yeah, yeah, tell that to the scoreboard," he grins, drawing the controller closer to his chest. "Another round?"

You don't like that smug look on his face.

"Actually... I want to play something else,"

Idia groans dramatically, flopping back on his bed and lying like a corpse. "If it's that thing again..."

"It's not the thing," you roll your eyes at his dramatics. "It's new. And it's one that I'll actually win."

That seems to intrigue him. He props himself up on his elbows. "Someone's getting cocky. What're we talking about?"

"You're one to talk. I want to play chicken,"

"Chicken? What are you, five?"

You elbow him in the ribs and he makes a noise like a deflating balloon.

"Not that kind. In this version, the loser is whoever gets embarrassed first,"

Idia, still cradling his side, raises an eyebrow. "I'm going to die of cringe. Are you serious?"

"What, afraid?"

He lowers his eyes. You're playing a dangerous game now; challenging him to a test of wills is walking into the lion's den. But you're not wrong, either; it's painfully easy to embarrass him.

"Fine, if it'll make you happy... one game,"

You clap, and then turn on the bed to face him. The "game" begins, and... nothing happens.

You stare. He stares. The air is heavy with... something.

Admittedly, you hadn't really thought this far ahead. Now you're confronted with the reality of actually having to do something, and...

Finally, Idia scoffs. "You're going to have to try a little harder than making eye contact,"

"I'm thinking!" you say quickly, feeling your face warm. "I'd like to see you do better!"

"Psh," he rolls his eyes, though he seems to be caught in a similar dilemma, not actually wanting to make the first move.

"...You're so cringe. Fine, okay?"

Idia scoots closer, using his height to his advantage by actually sitting up straight for once.

You catch him glancing between you and the shelves behind you. He leans in, his breath grazing against your neck. And his voice drops to a whisper.

"Your lips would look so much better on mine,"

You fall backwards, though you're not really sure why.

"Dude!" you sputter, struggling for words. "That was your opener?!"

Idia blinks, looming over you, taking his time revel in your reaction... and then he grins.

"You're like, the worst gamer in history. One corny sentence and you K.O.? And I'm supposed to be the shy one... you're even worse than me!" he snickers. "What would you do if I actually did kiss you? Implode?"

You groan, and sit up. "Alright, I get it, you win! Let's go back to your dumb fighting game,"

Idia stands, blocking your path with that same grin.

"No, no, I like your game way more. Let's play some more rounds- maybe I'll even let you win one,"

[puranami]

✿ Omelette ✿

A/N: A little fic based on one of the prompts I have~

Summary: Sanji finds you cooking an omelette in your underwear at an ungodly hour.

Content: Warning - my really bad attempt at writing anything outside of lil paragraph points (blz help, I have no idea what I'm doing)

Despite the scenario - it's all SFW and fluffy like dem eggs! A light dusting of pining, G/N reader. ✿

(Part 2) - (Part 3)

You had tried to sleep and ignore the rumbling in your stomach, but the harder you tried, the more you felt it, and you had finally reached your limit. If you were to be at all functional tomorrow, you needed to eat something. Only then could you try to sleep again.

Exhausted, you drag yourself from the safety and warmth of your blankets, slowly ambling towards the ship's kitchen, single-minded in your endeavour. All that mattered was appeasing your stomach, leaving you completely unaware of the sudden cold that embraced you once you had left the confines of your quarters.

Flicking on the kitchen light, you quickly gathered everything you needed, deciding that the best thing to make would be an omelette. It's an easy dish, filling, and doesn't take long to make. In other words; it was perfect!

You make quick work of prepping the eggs, seasoning to taste, even considering throwing a little cheese in there before deciding against it. It's not like you believed the myth of cheese giving people nightmares if eaten before bed, but you were so desperate to be able to sleep afterwards that you didn't want to risk it. Stranger things have happened on this ship.

The pan hisses as you pour in the eggs, sounding much louder in the empty kitchen, only amplified by the late hour.

"Don't you sass me," you grumble, "The middle of the night is a perfectly acceptable time for an omelette!"

Unbeknownst to you, you weren't the only one awake on the ship, and your late night excursion had attracted attention, clearly not having noticed any of the noise you were making.

"I thought Luffy had snuck in on a midnight raid with all the clattering," a groggy voice behind you laughs, but you are too tired and focused on cooking to even register that you had been joined by anyone. Sanji leans against the table opposite the kitchen island, fidgeting with the hem of his nightshirt, waiting for an answer that never came.

Surely you heard him, right?

"Is everything alright, darling?"

Nothing.

Terms of endearment usually prompted some kind of response, be it a dismissive laugh or an equally fond term of your own, clearly thinking they meant nothing in particular. He'd accepted pretty quickly that they wouldn't be the way to win you over, but it certainly didn't stop him using them, at least on you. The same couldn't be said about everyone else, as he was no longer vying for the affection of anyone but yourself. Sanji wondered if you'd ever noticed that.

A clumsy flip of the omelette brought him back into the moment, honestly surprised that you hadn't dropped it on the floor.

He moved his way to your side of the kitchen, round the central island toward the stovetop.

"Why are you cooking at this hhhh-" he wheezed at the end, only now seeing that you weren't in the pyjama bottoms he'd assumed you'd be wearing, but in your underwear.

He clasped one of his hands over his mouth, the other grabbing the island for support as he felt his legs begin to fail him. Keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the floor, he blurts out, "W-WHERE ARE YOUR PANTS?" as his face went fully crimson.

That finally gets your attention, but you are slow on the uptake, mind completely glazing over the fact that you had at some point gained an observer. Finally, furrowing your brows a little, you murmured a soft "What?" You knew a question was asked, but nothing else beyond that.

"Your pants, darling!" he gestures wildly, continuing to look down, knowing if that he caught sight of your bare legs again, he would lose his mind.

You stand there, pan hovering in the air away from the stove in one hand, a plate in the other, looking absolutely lost; you had completed your mission of acquiring omelette, and so your brain had decided it was no longer needed. Looking down, you see your legs and feet, wiggling your toes a little, then you look back up at the mess of a man in front of you, things finally starting to fall into place in your overtired mind.

"Oh, Sanji, what are you doing here," you ask, sweet as anything, completely ignorant to the battle he was waging internally. Once you plate your omelette, you place it on the island before putting the pan back on the stove to cool and grabbing a fork to tuck in, oblivious to Sanji frantically unbuttoning his night shirt beside you. He refuses to look directly at you until he has covered you with it, cheeks noticeably burning with how flustered he is.

"Darling, you can't do that to me," he says, almost breathless, "I am a weak, weak man; I can't handle seeing you so bare!" He manipulates your arms into the sleeves of his nightshirt, ignoring your protests when he briefly pulls the fork out of your hand in the process, before buttoning you up, doing his best to preserve your dignity.

As you feel the warm sustenance finally begin to settle in your empty stomach, you feel your brain booting back up, at least a little bit.

"Ah, shit I forgot to put on pants..." You giggle, wondering why everything was always funnier when you were tired. Taking another bite of food, you look down at your legs once again, starting to fully comprehend the situation you found yourself in. "I guess I was just too hungry." He can't help but sigh at how nonchalant you are.

Looking back up, your brain once again decides to abandon you, not from how tired you are this time, but from your eyes being met with his bare chest and abs, causing your own face to turn a charming shade of red. Sanji was always so neatly dressed, so he most you ever saw was his forearms when he rolled up his sleeves to work. It made sense that he was in good shape given his fighting ability, but it never really hit you until you saw his body tonight. There wasn't really any way to get accustomed to it, not like there was with someone like Zoro, who had his shirt off at least half the times you saw him, flashing his man tits whenever and wherever he damn well pleased.

Sanji's eyes never left you during this quiet minute, one that felt like hours, and he couldn't help but feel a hint of pride when he watched your eyes dance over his shirtless body, clearly flustered, bringing a confident smile to his face.

"Everything alright down there, sweetheart," he laughed softly.

You were clearly lost in your thoughts, it finally clicking why he was shirtless; he'd put his shirt on you. You brought a long sleeve up to your face as you dragged your eyes away, looking awkwardly to the side to your recently emptied plate. The shirt smelt like him, only without the lingering scent of cigarette smoke. It was sweet and musky. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, but you felt a wave of feelings crash into you. Feelings you knew were there but had simply brushed aside, assuming they were just a result of his natural charm more than anything. But, you couldn't so easily disregard them now.

Sanji followed your gaze. "Ah, don't you worry about that, my dear," he says, grabbing the plate and bringing it to the sink, leaving you standing in a bit of a daze. "I'll take care of things here, so you go and get yourself back to bed, alright?"

"Oh, no!" You couldn't help how loud that ended up being, surprising the both of you. "You shouldn't have to clean up my mess," you say with a more regulated volume. If there's one way to get you back in the present, it's offering to do something you feel solely responsible for.

"In all fairness, darling, you shouldn't have been cooking in my kitchen in a state of undress," his cheeks started to go pink at the recent memory. He clears his throat before continuing, "Do you know how dangerous that is?" Ah, the professional chef just can't help himself when it comes to kitchen rules.

You pout slightly as you lean back against the centre island.

"Sorry, Sanji. I wasn't really with it. Too tired, too hungry..."

He makes quick work of the dirty items you had used, all while prattling on about safety and other things you probably should have listened to. Drying his hands, he makes his way back to you. It is evident you hadn't really been paying attention.

"At least promise me this," you look up at his warm, smiling face, "if you ever find yourself in this predicament again, please come and get me."

He brushes back some loose strands of hair, tucking them neatly behind your ear.

"You know that I'm always happy to cook for you, right? Whatever you want, whenever you want it."

Returning a gentle smile of your own, you nod.

"I promise."

With that, Sanji leads you out of the kitchen, plunging it back into darkness as he flicks the light off.

You reach his quarters first since he's closest to the kitchen. He pauses outside his door, hesitating for a moment. There are so many things he wanted to say to you, yet he couldn't bring himself to utter a single word.

Oblivious, you carry on toward your own room, turning back to him to wish him a good night, nearly falling over your own feet in the process, to which he smiles, letting out a soft chuckle.

"Bonne nuit, ma chère."

Guys, gals, and non-binary pals; I tried my best! This is my very first full fic ever, so if the grammar, wording, presentation, literally anything is bad; it's bc I am completely winging it! ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

[starrbar]

Same tbh? Like one of the other rebloggers said as well, the question of how fiction affects reality is genuinely so fascinating and interesting, but it's ruined by this discourse.

The anti vs. pro thing goes far deeper than that question. If anything, the question is merely used as a pretense for the true stances being pushed. And I'll admit my bias right off the bat:

Despite the sympathy I have for some of the people who get genuinely upset that their experiences with trauma and fiction are being ignored and mocked (which is absolutely bad—you don't have to downplay someone's real trauma to say that fiction is more complicated than they say), that sympathy is severely limited by the fact that the majority of the people on the "yes, fiction DOES affect reality" side of this "debate" are just using this topic as a means of subjugating other people.

They don't actually care about the nuanced answers to these questions. They want to weaponize their pain against strangers instead of confronting their own demons and learning how to function in a world that isn't always soft and cozy for them.

On the other end of that, there are proshippers who take any and all criticism of media as a personal attack or an attempt to "censor" them, and who can't read the room and realize that maaaybe the time and place to argue that their favorite kink isn't inherently harmful is absolutely NOT right after someone just said that their abuser used that kink specifically to prey on them.

Like—it's true that predators will use anything, and that them choosing dark fiction as their weapon doesn't make the fiction inherently at fault, but that doesn't take away the horrible things that a survivor had to go through, it doesn't remove the connotations and associations they will forever have with that content, and they are ALLOWED to fucking hate the content and avoid people who like it.

Anyone who glances at any of my profiles will know how hard I go to bat for the "proship" side because I fully and completely understand that many of them have been backed into a corner and made to feel extremely defensive (including myself), but sometimes you need to back up and realize you're literally just berating a random person for having real, understandable disgust for the very thing that was used against them, and it's not your place to try and "facts and logic" at them about it. Let them hate it. It's literally not hurting you if they do.

It's only hurting you when they start turning their pain into a bludgeoning device against other strangers who have had different experiences with that fiction than they have. Whether you're pro or anti or a Tax Paying Adult Woman™, you have no right to diminish someone else's experience just because you don't like their opinion on fan fiction. :/

everyone in the "fiction does/doesn't affect reality" debate is frankly very annoying and treat it like this all or nothing thing and misappropriate the language of media studies to win the stupidest flame war on this website. I don't even want to engage with the question because I find it that pointless and anti intellectual.

[salfishersface]

Hhhh I’ve reread Baby Fever more times than I can count, can you please do like a part 2 or something similar?

Baby Fever Part 2 || Sal Fisher

Synopsis - Sal has baby fever.

Warnings - NSFW.

Notes - All characters are aged 18+!

Notes - Read part 1 here.

Word Count - 1.4k.

{Caffeinate Me}

Part One || Part Three

You watched as your boyfriend gave the overactive toddler a ride on his shoulders for the third time today. Soda was giggling and shrieking as she pulled on Sal���s shoulder-length blue hair. “Uncle Sawwy! I’m so high!” She shrieked giddily, kicking her legs in the air against Sal’s shoulders.

“Yes you are baby,” he cooed, spinning around and causing another gleeful sound to leave Soda’s lips. 

“It’s time for dinner!” You called from the kitchen as you plated up the food you had been preparing. Chug and Maple would be back any minute now, but you knew they had had a busy day shopping and whatnot so you thought you’d feed Soda for them. 

“Uncle Sawwy, take me to the din din table!” Soda yelled, pointing in the direction of the kitchen. 

“You got it angel,” Sal said, manoeuvring his way through the sea of toys scattered amongst the floor and to the kitchen. He placed Soda at the table who immediately licked her lips upon seeing food. She certainly had her fathers appetite. Sal walked over to you after securing Soda at the table and wrapped his arm around your waist. “You look good being all motherly.” 

“You think?” You asked softly. 

“I know,” Sal whispered, pressing another kiss to your temple. You both watched from the side as Soda wolfed down her food, hardly even chewing the contents before swallowing. Sal chuckled before narrowing his eyes. “Soda, you need to be careful when you eat!” Sal said, slight panic in his voice. 

“Why uncle Sawwy?” Soda asked, looking towards Sal. 

“If you don’t chew your food, you could choke!” Sal exclaimed, trying to be as lighthearted as he possibly could. 

“Oh otay,” she said before taking another mouthful of her food, this time chewing properly. 

You looked at Sal and grinned. “What?” He asked, raising an eyebrow under his prosthetic. 

“You look good being all fatherly,” you said, mimicking his words. 

“I know,” he grinned, pressing his prosthetic to the side of your face as if he was trying to kiss your temple. You looked up at him and smiled softly. You both continued to watch Soda eat and not long after she had finished, Chug and Maple came home. 

“We’re home!” Maple chimed as she smiled softly at the three of you. You were sitting on the sofa now, curled up watching Soda’s favourite movie.  

“Mummy! Daddy!” Soda said, quickly retreating from her spot on the sofa and toddling over to her mother and father. “Uncle Sawwy gave me a wide on his shoulders!” 

“Did he?” Maple asked, laughing slightly. 

Soda nodded in response before sticking up three fingers and exclaiming, “three times!” 

“Want one more before we head off, Soda?” Sal asked, standing up and holding his arms out to the toddler. Soda nodded and walked, unsteadily, over to Sal who picked her up with ease and placed her on his shoulders. He began to walk quickly around the room, delighting in hearing Soda’s giggles. 

You stood up and walked over to Chug and Maple with a smile on your face. “How was shopping?” You asked.

Chug shrugged. “It was alright,” he replied.

“You know, he’d make an excellent father one day,” Maple said, motioning towards Sal. 

You nodded in agreement, the smile on your face never faltering. “He will.” 

You and Sal had said your goodbyes quickly, hugging the little girl that had captured your hearts before heading back home. You knew where this was going. Sal’s hand never left yours as you made the short walk back to the apartment, his grip becoming increasingly harder the closer you got. When you arrived, you kicked your shoes off and said hello to Henry and Lisa before Sal mindlessly dragged you to your shared bedroom. “God, what are you doing to me?” Sal asked as he took off his prosthetic and placed it carefully on the bedside table. 

“What do you mean?” You asked, your head automatically tilting to the side. 

“Just wanna fuck you and stuff you full of my cum, all day everyday until your swollen with my babies,” Sal growled as he pressed his lips fiercely to yours. You let out a gasp of surprise as his lips collided with yours. Your soft lips moulded against his scarred ones as if you were made for him. Sal was quick in undressing you, throwing your clothes every which way around the room for you to find later before pushing you onto the bed. You could already see how rock hard his cock was against his skinny jeans, but Sal was quick to remove his jeans, finally freeing his cock from its restraints. His cock sprung up to attention, your mouth watering at the sight of it throbbing for you. His balls were heavy, full of cum that he wanted to pour into your womb. Sal got onto his knees at the edge of the bed and pulled you by your legs. You let out a shriek of surprise as his face immediately delved between your legs, tongue lapping at your folds and clit like a man starved, not even giving you time to comprehend what was happening. 

“Sal,” you whimpered softly, hands falling to tangle into his blue hair.

“Yeah baby?” He asked, pulling away from your pussy momentarily to look into your eyes. 

“Don’t stop,” you beg quietly, pushing his face further into your already dripping cunt. 

He mumbled something against your folds but you couldn’t understand what he said. He sucked deliciously at your clit. Obscene noises of his slurping filled the room and you felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. “Shit, you taste so good.” 

“Don’t say that,” you whimpered, covering your face with your hands. 

Sal pulled away from you, kissing up your thighs to your stomach, to your neck and then finally to your lips. “Taste yourself on my tongue,” he groaned, shoving his tongue into your mouth immediately. You let out a moan at the intrusion, eyes rolling back into your head momentarily. When Sal finally pulled away from your lips, he was breathless. Gazing into your eyes, he slicked his cock up your slit to lubricate himself before pushing into you slowly, a quiet moan falling from his lips. You grasped the sheets below you as Sal placed your legs over his shoulder, forcing his cock to kiss your cervix. “You gonna make me a daddy tonight, huh?” He asked, kissing your cheeks. 

“Yes,” you managed to choke out, tears springing to the corner of your eyes at both the pain and pleasure you were feeling. 

“Good girl,” Sal groaned, kissing away your tears. “Fuck, you feel so fucking tight around me.” 

“Oh God Sal,” you cry, trying to wriggle away from him slightly. 

“Hey, hey,” he growled in your ear. “Where do you think you’re going?” He asked, pulling you back against him. “You gotta make me a daddy tonight baby. Fuck, I need it.” 

“I will! I will!” You screech, not caring as to whether Henry or Lisa could hear you anymore. 

“Shhh baby girl,” Sal cooed softly. His fingertips dug into your hips and you felt like you were going to break at any minute. 

“Gonna cum Sal,” you whimpered softly. 

“Yeah? You gonna cum precious?” He mocked, his hips still rutting into you at a pace out of this world. You nodded enthusiastically, a hand flying down to your clit to rub quick circles against the sensitive nub. Within seconds you were spraying your juices all over Sal and his torso, not caring about the mess you were making. “Ohh you’re such a good girl for me,” Sal groaned. 

“So good,” you whimpered softly. Your voice was barely audible but Sal had managed to hear you.  

“Gonna fill you up now baby,” Sal whispered into your ear as his hips stuttered against yours. “Make. Me. A. Daddy,” he growled with each thrust of his hips. You nodded, completely fucked out. You felt his thick ropes shoot deep into you, his cock twitching with his release. You let out a silent moan as Sal shivered against you, but he didn’t pull out. He kept you plugged up as he kissed your tear stained cheeks. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” You whisper softly, leaning against his touch. “You really have baby fever, don’t you Sal?” 

“You have no idea,” he chuckled. The two of you cuddled like that for the rest of the night, with him plugging you up to make sure his cum didn’t escape from your cunt as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear. This one felt like it would be the one.

I'm so glad you enjoyed part one anon! I hope this part satiates your hunger for more baby fever!sal<3

[sleyu]

all i everrrr think abt is post argument over something like reader being too close to a male friend and reader being oblivious to it, n ron being lowk a lil mean abt it but he ends up feeling badd w makeup sexxxx after & soft cuddly ronn

nooo because i just saw a tik tok about this exact scenario (it was the harry potter boys react to videos<3) where you wake up late for class, and ron, who’s already sitting in the classroom waiting for you, wondering where the actual hell you are, sees you walk in late with another boy who just so happened to be late as well.

buttttt we all know ron and how jealous he can get. his jealousy prevents him from abandoning any form of reason and he automatically becomes suspicious and assumes that there’s something going on between you and that guy. you sit down beside him and before you can even smile or say ‘hi,’ to your flushed boyfriend, he immediately pulls you close and whispers, ‘who the fuck was that and why’d you both come in late.’

actually, you’d be lucky if ron actually communicated his curiosity and jealousy, because the more likely scenario would be him brushing you off and rolling his eyes every time you’d speak to him. and you would be so confused :( you woke up late, didn’t get to have breakfast or kiss your boyfriend good morning, and now he’s being a big fat meanie ? the atmosphere in the room where the two of you would be together would be simply tense. ron would either glare at you, and when he relieved you of his scowling, he’d begin glower menacingly at the boy who walked with you to class.

he genuinely doesn’t care about the idea of it being a mere coincidence if he was already in a bad mood. he gets sooo possessive, especially when he gets regularly taunted by the slytherin’s for literally everything, but ever since the two of you began dating, he just feels extra threatened and is scared that someone is gonna steal you away :( the thought of some guy even being within 5m radius to you is enough to make his blood boil and his cheeks flush.

eventually, he gets soooo antsy that he corners you in an empty corridor and demands you to tell him who he was and why you would miss your daily walks to walk in with some other guy. what’s nice about ron is that it doesn’t take much to reassure him on the spot. all you really have to do his wrap your arms around his neck and stand on your tiptoes, emphasizing his height, and press a soft, loving kiss to his lips. your doe eyes, combined with a cute little pout on your lips, plus the slight tilt of your head in confusion is enough to have him apologizing for how he acted throughout the day :(

‘i’m sorry, love, it’s just—ah—i’m tense and—uh—i really missed you this morning,’ i’m sorry but he can’t communicate for shit so it’s better to just cut him off with a kiss and let him express his sorry to you physically.

hhh makeup sex with ron is so good because even after making up with him, even after all the apologies and reassuring, each thrust of his hips feels so territorial, as if he’s trying to engrave himself inside you, claiming you for himself. even though he whispers that he’s sorry and that he’ll try his best to control his feelings next time, you can still tell that the way he’s pounding into you is almost as if he’s trying to prove a point: that you’re no one else’s but his and that nothing in the world could take you away from him.

he’d groan in your ears, slow his pace to kiss you on the lips, ‘all mine, yeah? you’re all for me, y/n, aren’t you?’ HHHH

he hates himself for it, but he gets such a kick out of how small you look and how big you make him feel as he’s fucking you. your mewls, the way your eyebrows furrow, as if you’re almost overwhelmed by his size and each rut boosts his ego to the max and only makes him want to fuck you harder :( you just looks so pretty and ronald weasley is a firm believer in the fact that pretty girls deserved to get fucked well !

and you best believe, he’s leaving hickeys all over you. maybe not in places where other people can see (despite however much he wants to show the world that your his, he knows he’ll never hear the end of it if the twins or anyone else caught sight of the marks he left on you), but all over your breasts and inner thighs. it gets him going that he’s the only one who will ever get to leave marks in those places.

and let’s not forget his big finale. you best believe that after some good makeup sex, he is definitely cumming inside you. ron’s breeding kink is something we can discuss next time, but seeing his cum drip out of your abused, swollen cunt is the icing on the cake for him. as said in my previous ron fic, it completely solidifies and affirms the fact that he’s the only one who will ever be able to do that, and in years time, he dreams of getting you pregnant with his children to show the world that you’re his forever </3

[poppy-metal]

missed you too poppy! have been busy moving into my new apartment and getting ready for my new job, and as an incoming teacher, i’m thinking about being lily’s teacher. art is his at PEAK dilf era, the hard muscle from his tennis days are beginning to soften around the edges. the ink on his and tashi’s divorce papers aren’t even dry yet.

you are hosting your first ever parent-teacher conferences and lily’s was scheduled next. you had met her mom, a stern but not unkind woman, and most of your correspondence had been with her. but an email for her assistant(?) informed you that she was out of town and lily’s dad would be coming in. and when he does, your mouth dries.

dilf!art getting teacher!reader to tutor lily extra after class. eventually you are making home visits to tutor,,,but only when lily’s at art’s place. you come over one day and are confused why lily’s not there, and art explains that she’s at a tennis lesson, but he’s glad to keep you company while you wait. talks to you about lily, obsessed with how much you show you care about her and also with how young and bashful you are—fresh-faced and bright-eyed straight out of college—joy not sucked out of you yet by life. he’s also obsessed with how your thighs looked underneath the—understandably modest—sundress and how you peered up at him through your lashes. you were shy around him and he clocked it at that first parent-teacher conference: you were attracted to him and the pride and ego that filled him was intoxicating.

so that’s how you found yourself bent over art’s pristine counter, cheek pressed to cold marble, mascara running down your face as you’re blubbering at how good he feels and how he stretches you out. his hands are bruising as they dig into your hip and his pace is brutal. you’re begging him to cum in you and he’s blinded by his desire to do so, to fill up this young, sweet girl.

(more rancher!art coming soon)

- 🤠

omg you're gonna be a teacher 🥺💗

hhhh lonely dilf!art means so much to me. being his first pussy since his divorce with tashi - and you're so different from her - not better, per say, he'll always have a special spot in his heart for his ex wife - just different. and it's nice to feel desired like that. to take charge and take what he wants -

you're moaning his name and reaching behind you to grip at his waist and beg for it harder - and goddamn he's so lucky. do lucky the first woman hes started to like in awhile is someone so fucking sweet and good and good with his daughter and good with him - good on his cock - he'd like to have been more romantic about this - maybe ask you on a date first. but you'd come over in a goddamn sundress and the way the fabric danced around the curve of your ass - shifted up your thighs -

he'll ask you out later. properly. but he can have this right now - he deserves this.

[conspicuouscephalopod]

well now ive got tickling + omo on the brain so

just. imagine. youre tied to a chair, hands behind your back and legs spread apart, absolutely bursting. you’ve been holding so much for so long and youre just about to the stage where you start leaking. its taking everything in your power not to wet yourself as you strain at the ropes keeping you bound to your seat.

and then you feel the gentlest of touches on your sides. featherlight traces across your ribs, fingertips dancing on your hips, hands spidering all across your tummy, even little touches and tickles directly on your poor little bursting bladder.

and now all that squirming is multiplied tenfold as you thrash around to try and get away from those torturous tickles, but you just can’t. it’s getting harder and harder to focus on holding it because your nerves are on fire. every part of your body is screaming at you to just give in to the ticklish sensation as your muscles begin to flutter and give out.

a single brush against the sole of your foot is enough to make you whimper and let out a little leak. you can’t help it, you’re just so ticklish and your bladder is just so tired, and then they pinch one of your toes and another leak escapes you, and they start squeezing your thighs and spidering their fingers across your knees and another leak, and another, and another, and it feels so good and you just can’t stop giggling.

eventually you just can’t take it anymore. they’re tickling your tummy so hard that there’s no hope of keeping it all in and you start to wet yourself, completely against your own will, all over your chair. it feels amazing, but at the same time it’s mortifying. you couldn’t control yourself, all it took was a few tickles and now you’re all wet.

fuck, i. hhhh. that kinda got away from me for a bit. anyway

[gooobraghhh]

God, I’m usually a more dom dog but this blog has me… feeling rather different.

Such a big fan of this unashamed t-man love, it gets me even harder than I already am all the time hhhh….

I’m not one to sub much, but this blog just turns me into a puddle. My T-dick is twitching against fabric as I type this.

Thanks for your service, Ma’am.

Much love, 🦷

I’m glad you appreciate my love of trans guys. Also ooo I love dom dogs so much. There’s just so many things I want to do with you mutts. Toying with a big scary pup who just wants to use me like a toy but I’ve tied him up and I’m ceaselessly fucking with him. Maybe I’m playing with his dick never really trying to get him off just watching it twitch and throb from my touch. Probably wouldn’t help if I was barely dressed, teasing you with my tits in your face but don’t worry I made sure to muzzle you first. Maybe I’ll rough you up, fuck and choke you till you really submit to me and lose your whole strong dominant act or maybe I’ll overplay my hand with the teasing and you’ll get out of the restraints and use the fact that your on a hormone that’s essentially steroids to pin me down while the fact that I’ve lost all my muscle becomes extremely clear. Hope you don’t want payback in the form of fucking me into the ground… but just know that whatever you do I’ll make sure to punish you for later <3

[xiao-come-home]

Boothill thought!!! I think he unironcally likes the cowgirl position

HE DEFINITELY DOES HHHH

Boothill just loves the sight that this position lets him witness, watching you bouncing on his cock, the expressions you make, licking his lips as he sees your face twisting from the pleasure, and most importantly - allowing him to play freely with your nipples, only to slide his hands onto your hips and bounce you harder against him.

“That’s it, keep ridin’ me sweet pea,” Boothill bites his lower lip and hisses, “just like the slut you are. My slut,”

He’ll definitely won’t say no to reverse cowgirl either, since this man loves ass. But at this point, he’ll take any variation of this position, he truly just likes when you ride him and give his body a good break, before he pins you back down.

“Cmon baby, ride that cowboy harder, is that all you got? Or are you too cock drunk to even understand what I’m sayin’, whore?”