#want readers

[heartspin2023]

Religion is regarded by the common people as true, by the wise as false, and by the rulers as useful.

-Seneca

Would love to hear your guesses and feedback !

--Heartspin

[moechies]

“shit, this pussy’s damn tight, girl.” toji chuckles, leaned against the wooden headboard of his mattress, with your pretty cunt impaled on his dick. you’re sat upon the man’s lap, back slumped into his bigger body as he lifts your legs to your chest with a singular arm.

“hnn—! thank y-you, thank you, thank you !” you slur, holding onto the man’s bigger arm for leverage as he pumps his cock against your cunt, your round butt slapping against his pelvis.

“tch,” he smirks, “thank you? haven’t heard that one b’fore.” his thrusts come to a slow, leaving you breathless and dazed. you lay back against the man’s chest as he continues lazy but brutal pumps to your poor cunt, pushing against him in an attempt to get him to slow.

“hnn.. ‘m sorry..” you cry out, embarrassed, face growing flushed as your nose scrunches at the memory of a few seconds prior.

toji can’t help but fall into a short fit of laughing at your adorable innocence, soft lips curled into a mean smirk, “‘s alright, sweet thing. yer so polite, hm?” he taunts, pressing a weighted kiss against your lips. you slip your tongue against his before you lose the chance, pressing your face closer to the man’s touch.

“y’take cock like a naughty brat, though.” he whispers in between a breath.

his sloppy tongue overrules yours, slowly but surely swallowing you whole. he peeks through a sliver of his eye, watching you pant into his mouth with your eyes squeezed tight, drool leaking down your chin, so entirety focused on kissing him back. “toji—“ you mewl.

“ya started it,” he mumbles against your swollen lips, giving your cunt a soft slap. you jerk and cry against his hold, pushing the said assaulting hand away, making him giggle. “what a dumb little thing.”

“please ! ‘m gonna c-cum! toji, please, please—“ you cry as his thrusts get harder, pace becomes sloppier, before it all comes to an abrupt stop.

your pants slow, gentle mewls that leave your lips as you begin to fall into a fit of sobs. “no..” toji breaks a grin, petting against your hair whispering sweet praises, “‘m sorry doll, daddy’s tired. let me have a break, yeah?” he adores how you look up to him with bleary eyes, chest full of pained hiccups as you attempt to bounce yourself atop his cock in your position. “..w-wanna cum!”

“don’t be so selfish, sweet thing. ‘m old, ‘s what ya get for hangin’ around me.” he lies through his teeth. pace slowly resuming. his creamy, slicked up cock causes his thrusts to grow in noise, face flushing at the evidence of the use of your poor cunt.

“daddy —!”

“shhh, settle down and let daddy focus, yeah?” he mumbles breathlessly against the shell of your ear, “or else daddy might get too tired.. and won’t be able to finish ya off.” he sighs.

[l0caltiredgirl]

when i want fluff/angst fics and all i’m getting is smut

the struggle is real

[heavenbarnes]

thinking about your older bf!simon that cannot cope with being far from you.

when you’re in the shower, he’s sat on the lid of the toilet on his phone (watching those rug cleaning videos) enjoying your faint singing under the stream of water, the smell of your body wash on the cloud of steam- ready to pass you a towel or get your back.

when you’re at your desk, working from home or studying, he’s just on the other side of it reading the paper with one outstretched leg tangled with both of yours. he’s dead quiet when you’re on a call, just happy to be around.

when you’re doing laundry, collecting the clothes in the hamper and crouching to stuff them into the washer- turning around and accidentally colliding with a thick wall of muscle.

“sorry, love”

he steps aside but you can hear his soft footfalls as he continues to follow you throughout your home.

when you’re both watching something on the couch, what starts as his pinky locked with yours turns into his arm around your waist. that turns into your head on his chest, which culminates with you falling asleep in his lap with his cheek on your head and soft snores emanating from his lips.

when you grocery shop, you push the trolley but his chest is to your back, arms either side of you and hands clasped over yours on the handle. you can thank his military training for his uncanny ability to tell exactly when you’ll stop walking.

when he wakes up in the middle of the night, on a rare occasion when you’ve managed to slip out of bed without him realising, he’s immediately in a panic calling your name.

“in here, my love”

as soon as his heart settles, he realises the bathroom light was probably a dead giveaway. you’re taking a wee, you’ll be back in a minute.

that doesn’t stop a sleepy simon from leaning in the doorframe, shielding his eyes from the big light as he waits for you to finish up.

even on the short walk back to bed, you can feel fingers twisted in the back of your shirt- almost like you’re leading the way.

minute you’re both on the mattress, you’re being wrapped up in his arms, slotting you perfectly into the curve of his front- almost like you’re made for him.

(and you are)

[miss-jaye]

cw: slightly suggestive when nanami kento saw his wife about to leave the house in a stunning, tight sundress, he swore his whole world stopped for a moment.

“honey?”

“hm?” you glanced at him, then looked back at the mirror, trying not to stab yourself with your earring. nanami cleared his throat. “where are you going?” he asked as he walked over, standing behind you and sliding his hands around your waist.

“i’m having lunch with my friends, sweetie. i told you that this morning, remember?” you raised a brow, confused. your husband nodded dazedly, his eyes glued to your figure.

“right.” he swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. “where are you going to have lunch?” he asked, his hands gently roaming over your body, feeling the fabric of the dress he so badly wanted to tear off you.

“that cafe we always go to…” you trailed off, finally securing your earring. “are you okay?” you met his gaze through the mirror. “i do this once a month—same place, same people.”

he nodded, humming in acknowledgment. you stayed silent for a moment, trying to figure out what had him so distracted. now that your earring was in place, you became hyper-aware of his hands, their slow, deliberate movements over your hips, squeezing in that familiar way that told you he was restraining himself from acting on his desires.

oh.

a blush crept up your cheeks as you realized nanami hadn’t seen this dress on you yet. you’d just bought it last week and forgot to show him. “kento?”

you called out to him, but he seemed too entranced by the way the dress clung to your curves. he leaned in closer, burying his nose in your neck, his hands trailing down to squeeze your thighs.

you let out a startled moan, hastily covering your mouth. he inhaled deeply, the scent of your perfume overwhelming his senses.

“your friends won’t mind if you’re a few minutes late, right?”

[suguruverse]

your personal space has never really truly been yours since you’ve started dating him. his muscled arm around your waist when you wake up in the morning, has become as familiar as the sunrise itself. it used to be cute, his warmth a cozy start to the day. but now, it's suffocating, like he can't bear to let you go, even in his sleep.

you shift carefully under his weight, not wanting to disturb his sleep. his breath keeping its steady rhythm against your neck, and you wonder if he dreams of you as you lean in to kiss his forehead gently. he smiles in his sleep, a small, contented expression that almost makes you want to slip right back into his arms.

the sheets rustle softly as you slip out from his grip. you slowly tiptoe across your shared bedroom, craving the simple pleasure of being able to enjoy making coffee alone. the smell of freshly ground beans fills the kitchen, and you lean against the counter, enjoying the quiet morning.

but as your coffee brews, a twinge of guilt creeps in and you can almost imagine when he'll wake up and wonder where you've gone. despite enjoying the well needed alone time, you knew the longing to be close to him will pull you back into his embrace sooner than you'd planned. almost as if in complete sync with your thoughts, you hear a mumble approaching the kitchen, and then his voice, thick with sleep, calling out softly,

"angel cmon back to bed with me, you know i don’t like sleeping without you"

ੈ✩‧₊˚ gojo, nanami, bakugou, iwaizumi hajime (27) althetic trainer, oikawa, kuroo, geto, choso, yuji, midoriya

[starsofang]

Simon didn’t like to hold you. He liked to be held.

At first, you didn’t understand why he’d turn his back to you in bed without saying anything. You thought you’d done something to him, or maybe he was in a bad mood. You couldn’t be any more wrong.

Simon Riley, an absolute brute of a soldier, was silently asking for you to be the big spoon. You nearly didn’t believe it when he finally brought it to your attention.

He was too embarrassed to ask you, so he’d resort to flipping on to his side and wait. And wait. Until he realized you didn’t catch the memo, even after many hopeless attempts.

In his mind, he thought being the big spoon would somehow convince you he wasn’t manly enough, as if his title in the service or his pure stature wasn’t proof enough of his masculinity.

To him, being held was a blanket of security. Where he’d always have to watch his back out on the field, both literally and metaphorically, he didn’t have to keep an eye out at all times with you. It was a chance for him to find solace in a person, and when he explained this to you, he was surprised to find you so willing.

And oh, when it happened, Simon nearly kicked himself for holding back on verbalizing it for so long.

The warmth of your arms when they wrapped around him from behind, your face buried between his shoulder blades, legs tangled in his, he thought that this was what inner peace felt like.

He was silly to think you’d ever be the one to judge him for what most deemed ‘unmasculine’. In all of his broad glory, he felt safe the moment you held him, like a child does when they feel a mother’s embrace except it was from someone he loved dearest to his heart.

And you? You found that being the big spoon was rather enjoyable when the man you’re holding was so damn comfortable to snuggle up to. It was a win-win for you both.

You just wished he wasn’t an idiot that left you wondering all those hopeless nights until the truth came out.

[hellishattempt]

nanami kento comes home on a saturday afternoon, hands full of groceries and hair freshly cut. in the distance, he hears his precious wife humming along to her favorite soundtrack. you must not have heard him come in. he smiles to himself, setting the groceries on the counter, but not unloading them. that can wait. right now, he wants to hold you.

he slips out of his shoes, padding quietly to the laundry room where you are folding towels. you have your back to him, headphones lodged in your ears. as nanami gets closer, the music bleeding from your headphones becomes audible. he chuckles softly. no matter how many times he tells you it's bad for your ears, you insist on listening to your music at just below full volume.

snaking his arms around your waist, you jump at the sudden contact. nanami presses his chest against your back as you take out your headphones, leaning into his touch. you sway in silence for a moment, nanami resting his chin on your shoulder. when you turn to face him, your expression changes at the sight of his hair.

"your hair," you state dumbly. "you cut it."

"yes," your husband muses. "is there something wrong with it?"

"no, no!" you assure nanami, studying his hair. "i just wasn't expecting it. you normally have me do it, which you know i don't mind doing."

"i know, but i didn't want to bother you on your cleaning day."

your expression softens at his words. nanami, your ever loving, ever caring husband, always thinking about you before himself. you reach one hand up, smoothing the hair down the back of his neck. as you bring your hand up, the freshly cut hair pricks your palm, and nanami lets out a low hiss.

you immediately apologize, pulling away. "did that hurt?"

"yes, but it's okay. it felt... good," nanami confessed. "... do it again. please." his voice is thick and demanding, and you obey without hesitation.

this time, you use just the tips of your fingertips to graze his undercut, beginning at the base of his neck. his breathing quickens as you continue to to run your hands through his undercut, going up and down, switching from one hand to both, thumbs caressing the sides of the cut. the laundry room fills with his melodic whimpers and faint groans. his eyes are shut tight, teeth digging into his bottom lip.

"fuck..." he cusses lowly.

"you okay, nani?" you giggle, stopping momentarily. his eyes flash open, pupils blown. "kento?"

"let's go to the bedroom," he insisted, grabbing your hand and dragging you towards the master bedroom. you barely have time react before nanami pushes you back on to the bed, practically ripping your leggings off.

"kento, what are you doin-" you try to protest, his hands clamping around your wrist and bringing them down to grip his hair. his head disappears between your leg, lips latching around your clit. involuntarily, your fingers tighten around his sharp undercut. he moans into your cunt, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through your body.

from then on, nanami kento always got an undercut.

[ccwispy]

i’d give this man the sloppiest head

[buttdumplin]

yeah simon is the one to scare people away when they get too close you, using his size and movement to intimidate, simultaneously shielding you behind him

yeah soap is the one barking loud, creating a spectacle and calling people out, and warning them away

yeah kyle is the one humiliating people, mocking offenders until either their own actions dawn on them or they finally recognize the venom in his eyes

but price is the one that launches into swinging. there is no warning, no hesitation. taking a step, even a single word against you, warrants immediate action in his mind. it's no laughing fucking matter. you are a top fucking prize, his prize, the best the world has to offer. john is rabid in his protection, bearing tooth and boot and claw and fist. there’s no point in talking to him or trying to negotiate, an offense is an offense and he won’t meet it halfway. someone looks at you the wrong way? they won't be able to see out of swollen eyes after headbutts them, crushing their nose. someone whispers something nasty about you? good luck even eating with that jaw wired shut. god forbid someone touches you, the other three boys can barely hold him back. john will break countless bones in every way he knows and beat his knuckles bloody if your smile starts to drop. 

[shotmrmiller]

single dad simon not knowing how to be a dad. not his thing. doesn't get it. hand him a gun and he can take it apart and put it back together in his sleep. but a diaper? formula? baby food??? knows next to nothing.

so you see him, miserable old man with sunken dark eyes, hunched shoulders and a screaming baby at his doorstep with groceries in his hand and decide to help. (besides, you're also suffering with a lack of proper sleep)

he's not a good dad but he's a protective one. he's at your throat in an instant, baby in arm almost behind his back, ready to sink his teeth into your jugular. you squeak out that you're a part time babysitter. you can help. you've got the most experience with babies her age.

you keep your eyes on him, tired eyes now sharp as flint. it's scary how quickly he'd moved. footsteps barely a whisper. his breath chills your skin.

threatens you with your life if so much as a hair on her head is hurt. he must be really tired if he's willing to accept help being this defensive.

you take the chunky babe and bounce her as he opens the door to his flat. you don't dislike kids but you're not their biggest fan either. babysitting is just a means to an end. easy money that goes toward your tuition.

simon, you come to learn, doesn't care. he thinks you're the missing parent. he doesn't ask you if you can help watch over the child. simply knocks on your door and hands her to you with the diaper bag. mutters that he'll be back and with food.

he helps himself to your couch when you tell him that the baby is asleep. takes off his shoes and is snoring in seconds. simon also doesn't help the rumors going around the building. "a terrible parent, you are. how could you abandon your baby and husband? he's been struggling for months!"

simon leaves you sputtering when he tells them to stop talking about his missus like that or he'll kill them in their sleep. burp the baby, pet, or she'll keep us up all night.

at least he pays well :/

(if you go out for a friends night, which he will drop you off so stop talking about uber, he's telling you to go say goodbye to our baby who happens to be asleep in her crib and if you're wearing a short little number he's gonna watch you bend over to kiss her fat little cheek before he takes you to the bathroom to eat it from the back and is sending you to his car with trembling legs and a slap to your arse. don't look so tasty next time idk)

[heartspin2023]

-Heartspin.

[tiedsuccubus]

What position was nanami’s mom getting clapped in to create such a beautiful man

[bamsara]

I think that one thing people fail to understand is that unsolicited literary criticism coming from an online stranger who is reading with no knowledge of what the authors intended goal is, is not going to be received the same as say: the authors beta reader or friends who know what the authors intended goal and has the sufficient knowledge and input to help the author reach that desired outcome.

"But I'm only trying to be helpful" How do I know you have the knowledge and literary skill for you to be able to actaully do that when we don't know each other and you are essentially a stranger to me? Are you applying this criticism based out of personal biased experience and desire to see the story or characterization be driven in another direction or tweaked, or do you know the author's intentions for the character? If the story is incomplete, are you basing your criticism of a character on the incomplete narration with only partial information available of them or are you building up a report until the story's completion? Did the author provide you with the information needed to make a fully informed criticism?

Have you discussed with the author what their plans are or are you assuming them based off the narration, especially if the narration is proven or implied to be unreliable or missing key points of the plot? Are you unbiased enough to help them reach their desired outcome for the characters and story regardless of your personal feelings towards the characters/antagonists and setting? Can you handle being told your specific input isn't wanted because you're a reader and/or have no written anything relating to their genre or topic? Do you understand and respect that the author's personal experiences might influence their writing and make it different than how you would have done it personally? Do you understand if an author only wants input from a specific demographic relating to their story?

If it's for fanfiction or other hobby media, are you holding a free hobby to a professional standard? Are you trying to give criticism because you feel like the author has produced 'subpar job performance' of their fic? Are you viewing their work as a personal intimate outlet or something that must conform with mass media? Are you applying rules and guidelines when the fic is shared for simple sharing sake? Is your criticism worded appropriately and focused on the parts where the author has requested input on rather than a general dismissal and or disapproval?

Have you put yourself in a place where you assumed you have the input needed for the story to evolve better, or have you asked what the author needs and what they're having trouble with? Can you handle having your criticism rejected if the author decides their story doesn't need the change and not take it as a personal offense against your character? Are you crossing that boundary because you think you are doing the author a favor? Are you trying to be helpful, or do you just want to be?

I think sometimes when people hear authors go 'please don't give me unsolicited writing advice or criticism' they automatically chalk it up to 'this author doesn't want ANY constructive feedback on their stuff at all' and not "i already have trusted individuals who will help me with my writing goals and- hey i don't know you like that, please stop acting so overly familiar with me'

[skyrigel]

Simon who just can't say no to you.

It has been like this from the moment his eyes met yours, a very terrible Monday morning if he hadn't met you but now that you remembered, it's the most beautiful day of both of your lives.

“Is that seat taken ?” Simon looked up at the small morning roused and still sleep laden voice, you were as knackered as you sounded, probably runnin’ on black coffee and cuppa noodles.

“Yeah.” He wasn't even aware how quickly he said it, “Yes, ofcourse miss.”

He scooted his big thighs together, trying to make as much space as possible for you and as if some divine thought struck him, he looked up — cheeks tinting with red.

“Would ya’ like window ?”

“No, But thankyou for asking.” You answered, sitting next to him and making sure to leave some space because those legs were thick and definitely his big cock needed some room.

Fuck, look away —

“Ghost...” Another man climbed inside bus, his eyes trained on you and your partner who's apparently Ghost ?!?!

“Wot ?” He said roughly, his shoulders pressed against yours

“Nothin’ old man.” The other man smirked and sat next to a Grandma who knitted half a sweater.

“Your friend?” You asked.

“ A little...Simon.” He said, “Simon Riley.”

“Oh.” You smiled, feeling blush creep up your neck and cheeks.“I like Ghost better.” you would've booed if you weren't feeling so tingly and nervy.

“You would like Simon more.”

“I would like that.” You couldn't believe you were flirting on a Monday morning.

One month later

“Ghost...” John horribly snorted, sprawling on couch as Simon paid him no attention.

“Wot ?” He asked, giving you his pinky as you painted the last letter ‘Y’ over hot pink nail polish, completing your H-E-L-L-O K-I-T-T-Y nail art, every letter on each nail.

“Nothin’ old man.” John smirked as you clicked your tongue, beaming up at Simon.

“Done !” You blew air and flashed a grin as Simon brought his hand up to examine your work.

“Done Luvie.” He smiled, bumping your nose with ‘I’ on his nail.

And you also liked Simon better.

Grim Reaper! Simon

Masterlist

[emphistic]

None of the Parenting 101 books that your husband, Toji, read during your pregnancy could've prepared him for the unmatched curiosity of your now four year old son, Megumi.

"Daddy," said Megumi, while sitting on Toji's lap, "what do you do for work?"

"Sticking your nose into other people's business, now, are you?" he joked. "Why do you want to know, kid?"

"'Cause I wan' know." Yup, preschoolers could be as sassy as ever.

"Cheeky little thing," Toji said, giving his son's chubby cheek a playful little pinch.

"Daaaaad, just tell me already."

Toji hesitated for a bit, before complying. "I get rid . . . of people—"

"That are bad!?" an overly eager Megumi asked, his eyes shining. Honestly, for someone his age, he should not be excited by the idea of his dad killing people, but he had some ideals different from others. Courtesy of his innocence.

"Sure."

You giggled quietly to yourself from your seat on the living room couch as you watched the whole situation unfold; your son, jumping up and down, and your husband, looking as bored as he always did.

"So you're like a superhero!"

Toji grinned at his son, ruffling his sea urchin-like hair. "Nah, not quite."

Confused, Megumi asked, "But you're strong. . ? So that means you're Superman!"

"Nope."

"Batman! Because he always wears black and is super duper scary."

"Not even close, buddy."

Laughing, you couldn't help the comment that escaped your lips, "Wish you were as rich as him, though."

Toji deadpanned, "You married me."

"I'm not complaining, am I?" you teased, pressing a chaste kiss to Toji's temple. Just as you were about to back away, you let out a high pitched squeal as he pulled you back for a real kiss.

Unlike most kids, who would say "Yuck", Megumi, beaming at the both of his parents, giggled innocently. "Mommy should marry Batman! Because he is rich, and makes the bad people go bye-bye!"