#x. drabble

[rahadaddy]

Gisele is still learning about the plants. She brings home to Ophelia. Sometimes she thinks about Zelen’s rants about dog ownership:

“Children shouldn’t be given puppies! They always become someone else’s responsibility and it’s just not fair to the poor babies… The hellhounds, I mean…”

“That reminds me of my rosebushes,” Gisele said once. “Never mind.”

Her girlfriend’s claims hold true for all living, but it sounds plain stupid to say it out loud like that. After all, Zelen is a genius with the animals - especially the dogs in the kennels. Gisele is nowhere near as accomplished with plants as Zelen is with her work. She ain’t a horticulturist or a botanist - just a wannabe gardener, who tries damn hard to show her sister that the world is a beautiful, bigger place than Vallaki’s walls would have you think. Ain’t many books on plants from across the globe in Barovia, though. Gisele has looked. She’s had some luck; Lady Ludmilla knows about her pet project and is a gracious employer, but… Desert blooms from Har’Akir do not flower in the Barovian winter. They’re fragile things. Tender. The last freeze sent Gisele into a damn unnatural depression when those flowers died. Zelen suggested a holiday with the dogs. Ophelia plied her with tea and town gossip. Nothing did near as much good as the day she sat with Zelen in the sand, barely alive, and clutching the green stem of a lotus bloom as a thousand others opened for the full moon over the oasis. 

“That was risky,” Zelen said when they caught their breath and the crocodile waters stilled. 

“Oh, it was worth it,” Gisele murmured. “To feel so alive, to hold something this alive…”

She took the little cutting and cultivated it in the warmth of her home and its fragrance filled the house every time the silvery wolf moon glowed. She misses that sweet scent now. Now, what feels like a lifetime later, what maybe is a lifetime later - they died last night, after all, all aching lungs and blackened vision - in a new Dark Domain called Cyre, Gisele is struck that even the revived plant life here is sparse and browning. There is no life here worth saving, except perhaps Jacques Felipe. Now, as they cross to the capital city, with promises of Barovia on their lips, she wonders how well he will transplant to her homeland’s soil and sun - or lack thereof. 

[walkingshcdow]

The worst part might have been that even in the trance, he couldn't stop seeing it. That horrific moment flitted through his memories over and over, as if accusing him. It hadn't been his fault, had it? Not really. Gods, he didn't know if he could live with himself if it was.

That fucking book.

It was just supposed to be a book, and then it was a war, and then-

Her cry still echoed in his ears. The thunder that had rolled in had settled in his bones, still rattling him. He could still see every cursed second of it- the scream. Her wide eyes were in a panic. The sound of a sword pulling from soft flesh covered in blood and sickening as she went pale and started to fall.

He'd run in to save her, to end that man's life and pull her into his arms where she belonged and-

It had already been too late.

Her grey eyes were still open, dull, and lifeless as she stared into the unfeeling heavens. Her hand still clutched at the bloody wound like she could stop the damage. But it was too late for healing spells, too late for potions.

Keres Whitlock was dead, and it was... he shuddered, trying to escape the look on her face or the cry in his ears for just one moment. There was no way around it, it was his fault.

@thelostbarovianroyals - this is what Clare made me live with prior to the last session. Welcome to Percy's personal hell.

[fumiliar]

toji has a secret tattoo, in a place hidden from the rest of the world. and you wanted to find out what exactly this man was hiding.

"where?" you asked one more time.

"nuh uh, no telling," toji shaking his head once more.

"let me find it then!" you got closer to him as you inspected him. you decided to make a plan, you'd ask him to take off a piece of clothing, if he hesitated, that's the spot.

"take your shirt off," you slowly observed the man.

"if you wanted my clothes off, could've just said so," toji taking off his shirt easily with one arm. "do-"

"your pants," you continued, as the man raised his eyebrows.

"do you want to fuck me or something?" he took off his pants, leaving him with just his boxers in the middle of the living room. "quit staring won'cha, my eyes are up here."

you were lost, no hesitation in any of his movements. his skin was clean, in all the places you'd expect a patch of ink, there was nothing.

"give up?" toji taunted as a smirk slowly came to his lips.

you had an epiphany, his lips. you walked closer to the man, looking pitifully as if you were a kid who got their lollipop stolen. as you got closer, you leaned for a kiss. slowly, your hands reached for his face, landing on his bottom lip. you pulled his bottom lip down finding the tattoo, "kiss me" right on his inner lip. jackpot!

"YES!" you jumped in happiness, releasing his bottom lip. before you do your third jump, you felt large hands grabbing your waist, immobilising you. he lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist making you see him eye to eye.

"don't be too excited, now this is a secret between me and you, no one else doll, no one," toji emphasising the last 2 words glaring at your smile.

"ok, kiss me," before toji could respond, you smashed your lips to hip making him shut up, giggling in between kisses.

note: firm believer toji is a man who got a tattoo bcs of a silly dare.

[jjk4isen]

super annoying gojo satoru when a girl comes up to you and asks you if he's your brother even after clearly seeing him grabbing your ass and saying super cheesy lines to you to make you only roll your eyes at him.

and you're stuck dumbfounded because it's not rocket science to figure out that you two are a thing just by looking at the both of you because the clingy bastard is quite literally stuck to you everywhere you go, whining and pleading for yet another kiss after stealing several from you.

and it's the same clinginess that prompts him to answer in your stead "yes actually. we're siblings" he beams a smile at you and you scowl, why the hell is he feeding onto this random girl's delusions like that? can't he take the hint?

you're not done scrutinising him when he grabs your chin with his big ass hands and smashes his lips onto yours, tugging and devouring your mouth into an extra sloppy kiss for the girl to take a hint.

he pulls away, a smirk on his lips as he licks his lips where yours had been a second ago. "is that obvious enough?" he chuckles, eyes never leaving yours as you see the girl storm off in the corner of your eye.

[screampied]

✧ ⁺˳ cw. fem! reader. husband nanami, whiney nanami, brēeding, cowgirl, mdni. adding to this

riding nanami so good that it makes him want to propose. focusing his weight purely on his rocking chair, the continuous creaks sing as you’re rutting back and forth. “s- sweetheart,” he slurs in a dreamy tune, a baritone-like rasp falling on his words. one hand of his grips toward your waist, tracing a thumb against the pretty curvature of your torso. whining yourself, you lean in toward his neck to bury your face near the crook, but he makes you collapse back. “no, no. don’t hide from me, wanna see those eyes,” and as gentle, mahogany irises meet your own, he groans. “good girl, my good girl. jus’ keep lookin’ at me, yeah.”

“kennnn,” you whimper, the repetitive dragging of your hips scratching a bittersweet carnal itch near the insides of your brain. his body heat was scorching hot, you thought you were gonna melt. the insatiable skin slapping against skin makes you deliriously numb, you want more. with your loose jaw hanging itself open, drooping—you lean in to lick a stripe up his neck. “fuck, ‘s good. mhm,” and each time you slam back and forth against him, he kisses his teeth. nanami’s sweating profusely, he barely even notices though because his entire attention’s focused on you. his pretty girl. although, the moment you start to dip your hips in a deep circular rotation, he tosses his head back.

“fuckin’ s- shittt,” he swears, and even his curses sounded so blissful . . sinful. for the first time in forever, nanami whines. the palm of his hand then closes in on your ass to give it a good firm squeeze. with fawn strands covering his eyes, he starts to shake. with his hefty chest heaving and a needy tone pouring from his voice, his gaze meets yours once more. “marry me, m- marry me, i need you to be my wife, please.”

an eyebrow of yours quirk upward at his words as a smile pierces its way against your spit-slicked lips. you throw your arms over his broad shoulders before giving him a sweet reply.

“hm?” and your hips had him going insane—the tempo, it was just right. not too fast nor too slow. the centers of your jittery knees bury itself into the sides of the chair before you whisper into his ear. “did you forget, baby? ‘m already your wife.”

nanami moans, your voice was enough to make him spasm right then and there—you sounded so sweet but your insides felt even sweeter.

your sloppy cunt grips against him tight like a vice, simply clinging onto him for dear life. within each pull and bounce against his lap, your walls were so gummy and goopy. it was just tantalizing. you were nothing but a tease and he only craved for more as each second passes.

taking in every inch of his thick cock, you hold back a noise yourself. digging the edges of your teeth into your bottom lip to suppress an incoming squeal, you kiss his neck — it was slow, you create a soft trail of butterflies with your lips. marking his neck with your own wings that press against your mouth.

“hah, oh . . are we?” he responds, panting. with a hand still glued to your hip like it’s made of adhesive, his eyes meets his ring finger. you and him were definitely still married. he groans, feeling a lump in his throat equivalent to the size of a saucer. “ah, forgive me sweetheart. ‘m sorry, y- your hips are just so..”

he doesn’t even bother trying to finish his trembling sentence before his cock kisses up against your g-spot once more. not just an ordinary kiss though, a french kiss.

it’s sloppy, passionate, and exquisitely thorough.

tangled fingers of yours claw at his cerulean blue dress collar. with cobwebs and cobwebs of slick saliva sloshing against each mouth — he huffs, shivering from your hands to roam further down his work shirt he wore. nanami was sexily slouched back, two thighs spread open for you with a single leg bouncing up and down in anticipation.

oh, he was close. his base sags and hangs as you’re rutting against him quicker and quicker. with a nice amount of fingers scraping through his hair and toying your fingertips with his scalp, you dip your tongue further into his mouth. “m- my love,” he purrs, and you don’t think you’ve ever heard him so whiney. his voice was melodic at most, each breaking syllable making the throbbing between your legs intensify. “don’t stop, please—i love you, i love you.”

“i love you too ‘ken,” you babble, feeling the elastic stretch curve and pull through your walls.

your lips part and you moan before feeling him hold your waist tight. nanami groans against your ear and it’s so low that it was almost a mere growl. it could have easily been mistaken as a growl with the raspiness in his voice. with your knees continuing to plow deeper into the chair, bouncing back and forth, he spanks you, again, and again, and again.

nanami’s about to come, you know once his prettily blown irises roll wayyy back until he’s seeing white and his thin brows curl into a proper furrow.

each sloppy bounce against his lap punctuates so good that he’s barely able to hold his moans back by now. you had him hooked. his faint poking dimples press together as he tries to speak, but instead of words, another dragging whine escapes. leaning up against his ear, your warm breath tickles his lobe. “c’mon, kento. cum in me, ‘s okay. make a mess in me, baby.”

“f- fuck, keep talk to me just like that, sweetheart ‘n i might,” he replies back in a shaky tone, feeling a chill reside up his spine.

your cunt’s addictive warmth was preparing to milk him for all that he’s worth. as he clenches down on his jaw for the umpteenth time, his grip against your waist tightens. “ugh, ‘s gonna be so much. so much for you, my sweet l- love,” and as he’s rambling, a thick load abruptly shoots into your core, dribbling into your womb. it’s hot, and when it rains it pours. nanami swallows thickly, the same lump that lived in his throat was now forming into a ball. your hips steadily slow down and you glance down to see the lewd mess emitting deeply into you. it’s so much—it’s velvety, creamy ropes of cum that quickly fill you up to the very top. as his tip spits such sloppy amounts of seed into your starved cunt, he bites his lip. “oh, ‘s still comin’ out. forgive me, ‘m givin’ you all of me, princess.”

with a soft smile, you kiss near the crevice of his mouth where a tiny crinkle caresses and marinates against his soft features. “don’t apologize for being dirty, ken. ‘s okay.” and his face softens at your words. nanami feels his body shudder with heat from how gentle you were with him.

you’re clinging onto him dry and he’s still pumping you full of ridiculous inches—featuring his beloved, syrupy textured cum. it’s a whopping amount that he could barely process how much he’s gifted to you until he actually looks down. the moment chest deflates, the sensitive crown head of his cock gives your sweetest spot its final chaste kiss. satisfied with being filled to the very brim, you don’t get off just yet. instead, you remain there, gently brushing your hips forward.

“m- marry me,” he repeats, his voice cracking.

nanami hears the squelches and spurts your own pussy makes from the residue of cum spewing from the undersides of your legs. “ah,” and he grips your chin, attempting to kiss you but his lips instead reach toward your chin. you worn him out, he’s barely even reaching your mouth and it’s cute. nanami’s got hooded half lidded eyes and a pried open mouth. he’s almost drooling for you, that’s how whipped you had him. “be my wife, i need you.”

kissing his cheek, you smile at his current pussy drunken state. taking a mental image to savor this moment forever, a thumb brushes its way against his tender cheek. “i'm your wife already, silly,” and his eyes dramatically roll back in rapture again. nanami’s releases always last long, and he’s still getting over it. his dick twitches from the sound of your voice, and he wanted more of his sweet sweet wife. the feeling of your sopping walls squeezing him for every ounce of cum he’s got makes him grunt. it feels so good that it’s almost heavenly. it’s warm and insanely sticky — oozing in ropey wads from your hole before trickling all near his lap. “all yours, ken.”

“all m- mine,” he repeats breathlessly, gently grabbing your wrist up to his mouth.

with a sheepish exhale leaving his lips, a free hand slithers its way toward your tummy. sighing deeply, nanami makes direct eye contact. “my love,” he repeats for a final time, and you gasp once he suddenly pulls out.

pouting for a second at feeling empty, he makes you lie flat on your back. nanami’s got a feral look in his eyes, broad shoulders raising up and down and messy unkempt strands all in his face, he wants one thing tonight and it’s you.

as he spreads your quavering legs open with a single hand, he then creeps two fingers toward your stuffed cunt to smear his cum near your entrance. “since we’re already married, let me g- give you a baby, sweetheart. you’d be such a good m- mommy.”

[beloveds-embrace]

Telling Ghost/König you are too heavy for him to pick up or sit on his face, and he doesn’t say anything at first so you think he just accepted it even if your heart kinda twinged a little in pain because you know you are just not skinny enough-

Only for him to send you a video the next day: in the gym, looking mighty hot in a compression shirt and sweatpants just a touch low on his hips, and lifting a bar with ease. On a closer look? The weighs attached to the bar weigh far more than you do. And he so easily maneuvers and controls and manhandles it…

Between the heat curling in your stomach, face pink and thighs clenched shut, you almost miss the incoming text.

Never too heavy for me, doll.

[nezuscribe]

imagine an arranged marriage with gojo. like he never wanted to be married in the first place, still in his prime of fucking around.

he doesn’t even know you. he’s heard your name before (who hasn’t) but he doesn’t want this, doesn’t want that gold ring on his finger.

but you’re elated, never been happier. you get a hot husband, away from your shitty family, and a bigger estate? yeah never been happier

gojo never comes down for meals, always finds his way to hide from you. in his mind, as long as he doesn’t see you, he can pretend he’s not married to a stranger.

but think about how one day he accidentally walks into the dining hall to see you there, still finishing up your dinner. it’s earlier than he usually goes, but now there’s nothing that could be done to hide the awkwardness in the air. he sees the way you’re trying to shove everything down to leave as quickly as possible.

but he eats dinner with you that night. the small talk is deadly and he feels his eyes twitching but you’re just glad to have spoken more than two words to this man you’re supposed to call a husband.

dinner together becomes a biweekly occurrence, and despite him not wanting to, gojo begins to look forward to them. he finds himself hiding his smiles at your stupid jokes, listening as you talk about your old life.

until one night he’s walking past your room he hears muted sniffles through the door, pausing to make sure he heard it correctly.

“he hates me,” your voice comes out muffled and shaky, “they told me he was o-okay with this…”

your maid hushes you, tells you not to worry about it, and he can still hear your little hiccups, the way you try to calm yourself down.

“…if i knew it was going to be like this i would’ve just agreed to marry that zenin…at least he would’ve told me to my face what i was doing wrong…”

gojo feels a part of him stir in jealously.

sure he didn’t want this marriage,

but he’s beginning to want you.

[nanaphrenia]

thinking about yuta seeing your pussy for the first time. ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝⸝⸝ᐢ꒱

bf!yuta who practically falls to his knees in front of you when you finally peel down those pretty pink panties and show him your wetness.

“g-god.. my baby, so pretty.” he’d murmur as he holds your thighs in his big hands, pressing wet and needy kisses to your ankles all the way up to your inner thighs.

he’d spread your folds with his fingers and practically groan as he sees you dripping, your cunt clenching around nothing. his gaze is searing, and you can feel him picking you apart. when you try to swat him away, his grip on your thighs will just grow tighter and he’d look up at you.

“stop.. ‘m admiring what’s mine..” he’d say with an adorable pout.

bf!yuta who begs you to let him eat you out, to let him make you feel good. and obviously, you can’t deny him for so long. not when he’s practically crying to give you pleasure.

his nervous tongue would lick a long stripe up your slit, and he’d close his eyes and moan as your taste and smell overwhelms his senses. “taste so good, baby..” he’d murmur before diving in and tracing his tongue around the rim of your hole, his nose bumping against your clit in a way that has you seeing stars.

you’d grip his hair tight and pull on the raven strands, trying to get him closer. he’d growl in an almost animalistic way, his tongue darting out to delve into your folds, wriggling inside of you as he scream and moan.

your sounds are music to his ears, and it’s hard to ignore the tightness of his pants and the pre leaking into his boxers. he’d grind his hips down onto the bed while making out with your pussy, long black lashes fluttering under his eyes.

bf!yuta who doesn’t stop tongue fucking you even after you come, your heels hitting against his back and you squirming and crying out in pleasure and pain, begging for mercy. he just can’t get enough of you.

“nnoo.. don’t pull away.. just one more, please babg? i promise just one more. wanna taste you.”

but one more turns into 2, and then 2 turns into 3 and the next thing you know he has you shaking and writhing beneath him, his long, slender fingers pounding into you, stroking your g-spot with each thrust while his tongue laps greedily at your clit.

his jaw and mouth had started hurting a while ago, but he just couldn’t bring himself to stop. not when his gorgeous baby was feeling so good all because of him <3

©nanaphrenia on tumblr. do not repost to another platform or translate my works without permission.

[readwritealldayallnight]

“I also grabbed that oatmeal you liked.”

“Mhmm.”

“You know, the one we tried a few weeks ago, and you were certain you wouldn’t like.”

“Mhmm.”

“Luckily by the time I made it out of the gym they wer-”

“Mhmm.”

You finally glance up from where you’ve been unloading the groceries onto the kitchen counter, eyebrows scrunched in confusion as you look to your boyfriend.

Sure enough, Simon’s not listening to a word you’re saying. Eyes locked on the steady jiggle of your tits in your tight new sports bra, as you continuously bend down and bounce back up with item after item.

He doesn’t mean to ogle you so obviously. Well maybe that’s not so true. Really he doesn’t mean to be ignoring you as he ogles you so obviously. But today it appears his lower half is in control of his attention span.

Narrowing your eyes at him, you wonder how long it’ll take him to snap out of his trance.

“So yeah, thought we might start having oatmeal more often now.”

“Mhmm.”

“Maybe three meals a day.”

“Whatever you say, love.” He answers, eyes still fixated on your chest, clueless as to the smirk beginning to spread across your face.

“Might even change my license plate to ‘oat-mobile’, watcha think ‘bout that?”

“Sure thing.”

You’re shaking your head to yourself in disbelief, a smile still splayed on your lips. At this point you’re turning around to put things into their rightful cupboards. But you think there isn’t anything behind you he won’t stare at either? While you’re wearing those workout shorts??

“Looks like they updated the class schedules at the gym too.” You continue, glancing back over your shoulder and seeing that, sure enough, Simon’s gaze has shifted to your ass.

“Mhmm.”

“Think they’ve got some new trainers or somethin’.”

“Mhmm.”

“Heard one of em’s quite hot. The men’s personal trainer. Maybe I’ll ask if he stretches the women out too.”

“Okay lov- wait what?!”

Got him.

[rahadaddy]

And Weapons Do Not Love

Summary: After the Barovian Uprising, after Cordy asks Rahadin if he murdered him, Rahadin spends the morning trying to have tea and peace. Game: The Real Housewives of Ravenloft Ships: Rahadin von Roeyen/Cordy Ceps

---

In the quiet of the morning, Ravenloft sits still. The faintest echo of sobs punctuates the chill air; human voices rise from the bowels of the castle. Above, somewhere, a young man curses The Devil Strahd for having turned him into a creature of darkness. Some feed on his despair, others whisper about it and the rumors that Doru Donavich might be someone important to the Blood Countess. Rahadin despairs with much more quiet dignity. Trance eludes him. Whenever he shuts his eyes this morning, all he hears are the dying screams of men and women and children, damned by his hand. He doesn’t hear them often anymore. It wasn’t the battle that conducted his deathly choir to sing.

Cordy makes specially brewed tea to relieve his headaches. The dried leaves of… of something. Rahadin doesn’t know much about plants. He does know where Cordy keeps the dried leaves: a ceramic jar on his workbench with Rahadin’s name on it. It isn’t trespassing to enter the greenhouse. Rahadin is second only to Strahd in authority here. It isn’t theft to take what has your name written on it. Even if it was a crime, Cordy is in Huldefolk: too far away to stop him, too far away to know. Rahadin still looks over his shoulder. 

If Cordy asked him whether Rahadin had murdered him when first he arrived to Ravenloft, Rahadin would have told him the truth with relish. He had killed Cordy (and a thousand more) easily and well. Not well enough because Cordy had come back- 

No. Not exactly.

The man Rahadin had cut down was Mars, a childhood friend, who had eventually denounced the von Roeyens; a man who had betrayed Rahadin and who must have forgotten (or stopped caring) that he’d only been a child the first time he raised a blade… Mars, the disloyal dog, had been killed a long, long time ago. The man who had come to Ravenloft, made of mushrooms and warmth, was no longer Mars. He is Cordy. Rahadin had not killed Cordy and Cordy had not betrayed him. Sometimes, Rahadin almost thinks Cordy could never betray him. Other times, he thinks that he could never kill Cordy. 

His hand shakes as he measures out dried tea leaves. Their mossy green-brown color belie their strong, earthy smell and just a whiff of them quiets the screams. They sound miles away.

Why hadn’t he told Cordy exactly that?

Rahadin is not Strahd. He does not inspire the loyalty of armies. He inspires fear, never devotion. He always has. Unsettling thing, strange boy… His father had never loved him and his mother’s love was a thing to crave and to earn, not to have. He was fashioned for service, a blunt instrument, and a trained guard dog. He knew it. He knows it. By all the gods, he had known it since he plunged his father’s scimitar into him at his mother’s behest. If not then, then as he cut down the Dusk Elves, one by one. 

How dare Cordy remain kind to him, even in accusation.

The measuring spoon clatters back onto the workbench. Rahadin has enough leaves to steep into a tea. The choir howls again. Plants shrink away from him as he stalks back to the house. Servants give him space. No one looks him in the eyes, no one says hello. He is not a person: he is a weapon. Even in his remorse, he is a weapon. 

How dare Cordy make him feel like he was still a man, like he was worthy of- or maybe that he wanted to be worthy of-

How dare he think he could inspire something other than fear in anyone, especially Cordy. He doesn’t dare to name the feeling. He is a systematic tool and he cannot afford to be wrong. 

He brews his tea and drinks it slowly, bracingly, and the screams subside. He wonders (not for the first time) if Cordy could hear them. How does he excuse them?

“Sir?”

One of the vampire spawn in uniform lingers nervously on the edge of the kitchen.

“Report,” Rahadin says. 

“Someone has pointed out that the dungeons are still flooded. We signed a petition and the union agrees that we shouldn’t have to feed the humans down there in such unsanitary-”

Work: a welcome distraction. The choir falls silent. 

[khioneee]

simon knew it was over the moment he realized just how freaky you are.

simon knew he was massive—he always had.

it was a quiet fear that followed him, the thought that if he lost control for even a moment, he might hurt you. his touch was always careful, deliberate.

his hands were wrapped around your neck, not tight, but gentle—just enough to feel the pulse beneath your skin. his thumbs rested softly against your throat, his grip light, careful not to leave a mark. but when you started frantically grinding your hips against his, rolling your body in desperate need, everything shifted.

a low, guttural noise rumbled from his throat as his body responded on instinct. without meaning to, his hands tightened, gripping your neck for leverage as you moved against him. he froze for a second, startled by his own strength. but then—

it happened.

you clenched tighter around him, your head falling back as a broken moan escaped your lips. you were crying out, completely undone, lost in the moment. your hips bucked harder, desperate for more, and it hit him like a bolt of lightning:

you liked it rough.

you, his innocent, angelic girl — the one with soft smiles and bright eyes, the one who blushed at the smallest touch — had been hiding it all along.

he stared at you, stunned, as you begged with your body, your innocent exterior cracking to reveal the wicked, burning desire beneath. his angel wasn't just soft and sweet

—you were freaky.

a low growl rumbled in his chest as he leaned in, the ghost of a grin tugging at his lips. “you've been holding out on me, haven't you, lovie?” he murmured, his voice dark with amusement and something far more dangerous.

[velvetcrimsonkisses]

Dadbod!Nanami...

Hear me out... Once you're married, all settled down and he's not a sorcerer anymore and he's at peace. He gains a few extra pounds, just because he's been baking so much and eating good food.

And you're not complaining, the extra weight feels so nice when he's on top of you, fucking into you slowly. You grab onto his thick biceps, wrapping your legs around his torso as he bullies his cock into you. And you can almost swear his cock feels bigger, thicker since he gained the weight.

So much so that tears trickle down your face from the added girth. And Nanami like the man he is takes notice.

"Feel good? Why are you crying, honey?" an expression of slight worry on his gorgeous face. But his cock has you speechless and the way you clench around him tells him just that. And he smirks as he feels you go dumb because of his cock.

"So... so fucking good...," is all you manage to say, as you pray to whatever God there is, for your husband to keep the dad bod.

[ofourlee]

megumi x reader

"i want a kiss."

"no."

megumi let out a scoff, feigning being offended by your response

"no? you're denying me a simple kiss? that's cold."

megumi turned his head slightly, crossing his arms across his chest with a huff, his lower lip sticking out in a slight pout.

"gumi,"

he continued to sulk, his back facing you as he laid on his side. he was stubbornly refusing to look at you

"meg—"

"you're so mean to me. you're not even calling me baby anymore."

you slightly chuckle

"baby, can you look at me? pretty please?"

but to no avail.

you wrap your arms around him and kisses his cheek from behind. leaving occasional pecks on the corner of his lips.

"i was kidding, let me see your handsome face, baby."

megumi, still stubbornly facing away from you, huffed a small sigh before reluctantly facing your way.

"what?"

"are you done sulking?"

"yes, i'm done sulking," he admitted, his voice low and sincere. "in fact, i think i've been teased long enough. now, give me my kiss please."

[tame-the-lion-writes]

“… Sweetheart, when was the last time you went into heat?”

“I mean, I’ve— I’ve always been on suppressants, so—“

“That’s not a date, love.”

You swallow hard, looking at the cement floor of the makeshift safe house. You were supposed to be home by now, to have access to all your meds—but no. You were here. Out in enemy territory, holed up with the rest of your team.

Your otherwise all alpha team.

“Never.”

Well. Shit.

[screampied]

✧ ⁺˳ cw. fem! reader, unprotected, size difference, ab riding, dirty talk, squírting, praise, petnames, mdni.

gym rat bf! toji who’s just so fucking big.

you can’t help but openly gawk at him whenever he’s doing his hourly reps and sets. he’s fit, and you’d just do nothing but watch the veins prod within his beefy toned arms all day if you could. “y’er daydreamin’ again,” he’d gruff, watching as you writhe around his heavy length that’s currently nestled between and inside your sapping folds. you were moaning under your breath, desperately trying to get over your most recent orgasm that left your toes curl in. “wonder what’s goin’ on in that pretty mind,” toji murmurs, lying flat back against his weight bench. he’s got nothing on but a sweat drenched tank and black loose shorts—shorts that would always show off the outline of his his raging boner—shorts that were lazily tugged way down the hem of his waist all thanks you. “fuuuckk,” he hisses, feeling you abruptly sit up with his cock loudly exiting out of you. with a squelching ‘pop’, the noise of your cunt rings throughout the thin walls of his gym and he phews. “what’s . . with that look, baby?”

“i wanna try riding these,” you’d breathe through soft breaths, creating a slow trail down his chest with your finger. a bit of sable-dark chest hair sticks against his skin, his pecs specifically. god, he was just mesmerizing to look at. he’s laid underneath you, manspread as your eyes continue to rove further down his perfectly carvened body. streams of perspiring sweat race down his hewed sculptured v-line before you stop at his curly happy trail. “wanna ride your abs, toji.”

with a sly grin, he swipes a thumb over his scarred glossed lips. “do ya now?” and you could almost see the smugness swell up in his chest. toji’s shaggy bangs fully block his vision as he gets a good look at you, making two bandaged hands glued to your waist. “weird girl,” he snickers, and you moan once his emerald eyes flicker towards your drooling wet cunt. “hn. but go ‘head then. knock y’erself out,” he tilts his head back, crossing his arms cockily. “make me proud.”

slowly, you move yourself closer toward the middle part of his body and you moan almost right away. it’s a pretty sound that he’d never get tired of hearing. toji’s perfectly muscle-bound, such swole arms and even more swole calves—so thick, your skin practically sticks against his the longer you spent on his chest.

the second your bare cunt leisurely slides against his abs, you feel a cold shudder creep down your spine.

“f- fuck,” you whimper through gritted teeth, glancing at his face to see him combing a few cramped fingers through his hair. toji’s broad frame underneath you grew idle and still—and he can’t help but snake a big callused hand around your waist, stroking a few weak pumps at his now soft cock that was inside you just milliseconds ago. “toji, your abs feel so good.”

“they better be,” he rasps as one of his forearms pulls away, stretching outward to grab onto the handle bar that’s directly above the two of you.

multiple veins of his bulge through every part of his arms and you felt yourself throbbing just at the sight. he’s so big, and you only craved more by the second. toji grunts, feeling the coolly air waft against his reddened neglected tip as you continue to thrust forward - sloppily, but forward.

your hips were pathetically slow, barely even making haste as you dragged against each flat sleek ab. you were rickety, cutely making a feeble swivel with your waist despite how your knees were on the verge of bucking. toji continues to watch you, studying your lewd facial expressions and all. he noticed how your breathing continued to change, your eyelids would grow heavy, drooping lower and lower as and your mouth hangs itself open—gasp after gasp leaving your spot-slicked lips. tossing his head back, you glance how his adam apple bob’s, and he’s giving your ass a tight squeeze. “yeah, that’s it. ride ‘em good, princess,” and his voice pitches a deep husky low once your cunt squelches right up against tightening midsection. “mhm, use those hips. fuck me good, baby.”

as shallow breaths continue to ruthlessly snatch away from your full lungs, you resume to rock back and forth against him—his sharpened pectorals now being lewdly slathered from top to bottom with your syrupy juices. “hngh, ‘s ripped,” you’d moan out, feeling your tummy heave and curl inward within every few jerk of your deranged hips. you bit the bottom of your lip, pulling skin back whilst his abs continue tighten even more right underneath you. his six pack’s now entirely wet, shining with nothing but your own candied slick and he grunts. toji hears the greedy squelches of your pussy but he only imagined what it looked like down there. as your lips form into a gasping ‘o’, your brows contort into a furrow as you start to whimper out pathetic babbles. “toji, ‘m not gonna last. fuck, fuck.”

“oh, c’mon, don’t say that, princess,” the dark haired man coos, and you then star to feel the fat round tips of his thumbs massage against your active hips. he’s steadying your waist, helping you grind faster and faster despite how your legs were close—so so close to succumbing to defeat. “y’er a big girl, keep goin’ baby, ride ‘em like you ride my cock, mhm.”

your cunt twitches at his words, at his praise and oh it’s so embarrassing. as you continue to move, toji can feel the faint spasming throbs that vibrate on his flat stomach and he snickers. “shit,” you gasp, and your hands continue to feel up inside the thin linen of his tank top. he’s so buff, you couldn’t help but salivate—imagining toji with his big bulky arms slowly wrapping around your throat. your hips start to accelerate at a much briskly pace. as you were trapped in your erotic seven second fantasm, you sob out a whimper once he spanks your ass, bringing you straight back to reality. he’s telling you to keep going, you could tell from the brief priggish look in his eyes. “toji—ngh, ‘m gonna—”

and as your sopping folds continue to move quicker against his chiseled ripped pecs—you let off a soft dramatic gasp as fluttering ripples of waves surge through your core. out of nowhere, you gush right onto his abdomen while you’re still sloppily thrusting your hips onto his tight flexing stomach. “fuck, ohmygooodd,” you’d whimper out in cute elongated mewls, dragging every poor syllable. your squelches were loud—and your eyes widen at the sheer realization that you’re squirting—trickling out lustrous spurts of your own juices. you were holding in a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, and your eyes squeeze shut completely once you fully release.

with weak bucking hips, you let off a shaky sigh and toji’s still got that annoying smug grin plastered across his face. “aw, poor baby,” a hand of his snakes around your waist, dark aroused eyes glancing at your pulsating weeping pussy. you weren’t moving anymore, and yet you were still plopped on his pecs. seconds later, you feel him flex each core muscle against your achy clit and you whimper, geysers of slick dampening his swole abs. “tch. made such a mess, ‘m all soaked,” and you moan, feeling him grab ahold of both of your wobbly unstable hips. you were dumb, dumber than you’ve ever been and all you felt was his tightened abs tensing right underneath your slobbering slick heat.

toji’s entire chiseled midsection of his chest was now sheeny, perfectly coated with your slick that makes his skin glimmer like a jewel and he hums. “my messy girl,” and a thumb of his playfully smears down your cunt, feeling it’s pulse prod against his fingertip. with an amused quirk of his thin black brow, he tastes you by licking his finger slyly. with needy eyes, you’re just blankly staring at him—panting heavily, pawing at his puffed chest for more. “oh, you’re not done?”

“n- no,” you whine, feeling a plethora of electric shockwaves erupt through the undersides of your thighs as you start to pathetically rock against his abs again, rubbing yourself against your own slippery wetness. “fuck, want more. hold still, toji.”

“ ‘m all yours,” he replied in a low mumble, giving your ass one more teasing squeeze. as he grabs a nice chunk of it, he groans throatily before laying his feet flat down against the carpet beside the bench. “good girl, keep ridin’ me,” and his hand tightens against your ass, throwing his head back with his hands covering his face. “fuck, gotta train this sloppy cunt some more anyway, heh.”

[fumiliar]

kento nanami would unconsciously close jars a little bit too tight due to his fear of spoiled food, causing you to need his help every time you wanted to access a jar he had used in the past. yet, he never realised how tight these jars were and the level of difficulty in opening it.

slowly, he started to realise a pattern. every single jar you'd ask for help to open, it would be a jar he had used recently. the jam he used to eat along with his bread daily, the jar of mayonnaise, every single other jar he had opened, you asked for assistance.

realising this pattern, he started loosening the jars by just a little bit every time he closes it. and you just stopped asking for help, that's when his suspicions were confirmed. you were struggling because of him...

a little voice in him tells him to tighten a jar once in while, to see you asking him for help as he desperately missed. but he just can't bring himself to consciously continue this behaviour, his love for you stepping over any personal need of his, knowing that in the end, a simple pleasure towards him could cause a debilitating stress towards you, he couldn't bear that thought.