#and that's all that matters! as long as no one can TELL im going through it it doesnt count! showing emotions is bad! for the love of GOD

[nymphoniah]

Hiiii! May i request training/working out/ sparring (idk😭) with logan and it ends up with us dry humping or something pretty please will all the cherries :)

indulgent desires | logan howlett

pairing: boyfriend!logan x afab!reader

AN: omg your mind... i know for a fact that logan is an absolute menace when it comes to working out. like have you seen his arms? i need to be squished to death by his biceps. they're just so!!! omg!!! you know that man loves hitting his arms.

written with xmen/x2 logan in mind, but honestly can be applied to any other ver. of him! (for once i'm not writing with old man!logan in mind? am i really me?)

content/tags: minors DNI (18+ only), dry humping, pet names (babygirl, princess, etc.), porn with a little bit of plot, cum tasting/eating/facial, hair pulling, teasing

logan practically spends every day at the gym. he always prided himself on his physique, not just for self-fulfilling reasons, but for the mere fact that he knows that his body riles you up.

he can tell when you would "sneak" glances at him, especially when he gets a pump right after his workouts. the way his muscles swelled after working out made you lust for him harder.

you could tell he hit his arms today; his biceps were more defined than usual, with your eyes tracing a thick vein that flows down his forearm. "you like what you see, princess?" he teases, flexing his arm as you continue to stare.

you blink hard and shake your head embarrassingly fast. "whatever, logan!" you shout, continuing whatever workout you were doing, losing track of how many reps you did.

you would tag along with him every so often, but only because he would take hours at a time at the gym. sure, you liked going to the gym, you had to stay fit somehow, but you lacked the stamina logan had; the frequency and duration of his gym sessions were unbearable for a poor little thing like you.

and logan acknowledged this, as he would often end his sessions a bit shorter so the two of you could go home sooner. you felt like a bother, and the last thing you wanted to do was interfere with his workouts.

"fuuuuck, im tired," you exhale, leaning forward, hands gripping at your knees as you try to catch your breath. pushing through your last set of bulgarian split squats had you absolutely winded. logan placed his firm hand on the small of your back, gently rubbing circles against your skin.

"let's go home, bub" he lulled, passing you his water bottle to drink from. nodding at him, you take a long swig, and the ice cold water rejuvenates your body. "let's..." you eagerly reply.

you couldn't bare being separated from him, lounging away at home any longer, so one day, you took matters into your own hands.

eventually you had the idea to buy at-home gym equipment; it was pricy to say the least, but it didn't matter to you, for as long as logan was home.

from the comfort of your own apartment, you had the view of logan all to yourself. whenever he worked out, he wore his plain white wife beater along with a random rugged pair of gym shorts he rotated through.

you'd wake up to his grunts early in the morning, getting up at first light to use the machines splayed out in your living room. the domesticity of it all made it so the early mornings never bothered you, as well as the occasional tsss or oomph he'd let out as he finished a rep.

and just like before, you'd join him. you had bought a yoga mat to do your stretches before your workout. even got one for logan, but he keenly insists on using yours.

this morning you had spot him on seated on the mat, legs stretched out. he splayed his torso out between his thighs, letting out a grunt as he felt his muscles pull as he reached forward.

a yawn leaves his mouth as he returns to an upright position. he glances over to his right to spot you sitting at the dining table, sipping from your mug, eyes focused on him.

when finished with his usual routine, he follows up with a couple of stretches afterwards to cooldown. his arms were thicker, more defined than usual. arms, you thought to yourself. he hit his arms, again.

“morning, sweetheart,” he chirps as a lazy grin slowly wipes across his face. he reaches his hand out, signaling for you to come over.

and so you do, sitting alongside him on the mat, slotting yourself between his legs. you rest your hands on his thick shoulders, tugging at the straps of his tank top.

he leans in, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead. “stretch with me, darlin,” he hums against your temple.

“i’d rather watch you,” you reply, playfully pushing him away. you’re about to return to your spot at the dining table before he snakes his arms around your waist, holding you in place.

“no, no, we gotta get you movin’, doll.” and oh how logan has a way of convincing you. just a simple pet name, and he’s got you wrapped around his finger.

he taps your hips, motioning for you to turn around, and you oblige. with a swift movement, your back is now pressed against his chest, your legs encaged by his own.

you could already feel that his dick was hard, which wasn’t too much of a surprise. logan had morning wood pretty frequently, and would often work out to relieve it, as he felt guilty if he were to wake you up so early in the morning.

but this time, it was different. watching you prance around the kitchen in those shorts that barely cover your ass, wearing a skin tight camisole that put your hardened nipples on display. how could he not get hard—or rather, not keep his hard-on for a pretty little thing like you?

logan rests his head on your shoulder, leaning close to your ear. “c’mon, get started already.” he whispers, warm breath tickling the shell of your ear.

and so you mimic the stretch he was doing earlier. you lean forwards, making your ass push into his crotch. the pads of his rough fingertips remain at your waist, gripping at your skin to bring you closer. you continue to lean forwards, and your back is now parallel with your legs on the mat.

his hands creep their way to the small of your back. “there you go, doll. just like that,” he lulls, tracing delicate circles where your back arches. logan shifts in place, now kneeling behind you as you remain spread out for him on the floor.

you attempt to rise from your position to sit upright, but a firm hand is planted on your back, keeping you in place. "y'look so pretty for me like this," logan teases, his calloused palm now slipping underneath your tank top.

his hands run up to caress your shoulder blades, pushing the straps of your tank top down swiftly. your tits were now exposed to the crisp, cool air, your nubs now even harder than before.

“logan…” you whine as his left hand keeps you in place, while the other roams to paw at your tits. you continue to moan out his name while he works at you, paying sweet attention to the way your breath hitches as he gently tugs at your swollen nubs.

“couldn’t help it darlin’,” he lulls, “how can i ignore a pretty little thing like you?” his hands move their way from your breasts to your hips. tugging at your legs, he manhandles you so you’re now prone on the yoga mat.

logan is still seated beside you, calloused hand now working at the globes of your ass, jiggling one your cheeks in the thick palm of his hands. “you got me so fuckin’ hard, baby…” he hisses, his free hand palming his erection through his shorts.

he leans in, pressing a soft kiss to the flesh of your ass, admiring how pretty you look spread for him. his face lingers for a second as he catches a whiff of your arousal pooling in your cunt.

“can smell how bad you need me, doll.” logan utters under his breath. “don’t worry, i’m gonna fill you right up…” you lazily turn your head around to catch a glimpse of the smirk forming on his face, and you flash him a coquettish smile of your own.

“ass up, princess,” he commands, pushing on the small of your back. and you obey, arching your back so that your ass is presented to him, your lacy panties peeking through your shorts.

“fuck.” he coos, molding your ass in the palm of his hand. logan is tempted to pop his claws out to rip the fabric, but the last time he did, you complained about him ruining your favorite pair of sleep shorts, so he refrains from doing so.

so he decides on something else. pushing his shorts down, logan remains in his boxers, his oh-so needy cock forming a tent in the tight fabric.

you feel him shifting around you, seating himself so he’s on his knees, his cock parallel to your ass. you try to push back to feel any friction against your needy cunt, but he keeps a firm grip on your hips, keeping you still.

“please, need you so bad,” you whine, attempting to wiggle your way out of his grip, but knowing him, knowing his strength, it’s useless to even try.

“you’re gonna have to wait for it, sweetheart,” he says cockily, pressing his pelvis against your clothed cunt, and the both of you hiss out in pain.

logan began to rut his cock against you at a steady pace, angling his hips to that the tip of his cock just about grazed over your clit.

“stop teasin’,” you purr, arching your back to try and get any more friction, but it’s no use. logan reaches over and presses your head into the yoga mat, your cheek squished against the foam.

“you get what i give you, princess.” he grunts, pushing your head further into the mat as his hips move faster, pressing harder into your ass. “gonna use you first, then i’ll stuff you with my cock.”

his hips sputter as he feels the way you bounce your ass against him, your bodies moving in sync, his thrusts matching the way you rut back into him. “fuck, you got me worked up doll, prancing around the house like that…”

you couldn’t respond to his words, only grunt in response. the pressure building in your core was too much, making your mind hazy. all you managed to let out was a little mmh.

“walkin’ around with your tits on display, actin’ all innocent,” he drones on, continuing to pound his hips against yours. he fists a section of your hair, tugging harshly so your face now meets his.

“the things you do to me, doll…” logan mutters, leaning over to give you a hungry kiss. your entangled your tongues sloppily, moaning into each others mouths.

he pulls away from the kiss hastily, and a thin strand of your saliva mixed with his pools from your bottom lip. you look fucked out already, and he’s only been dry humping you.

“dirty little thing,” logan teases, pressing a finger against your clothed cunt as he continues his thrusts. you feel yourself getting close, your panties were drenched with your own arousal.

the way your ass rippled with every thrust of his hips, combined with how wet you were getting from this sent logan into a spiral.

his movements became more erratic, his strained dick begging to be released from the confines of his boxers. he began to rub tight circles on your clit, pushing you further to your limit.

“gonna come soon, baby,” he grunts out, and you moan in response. “where do you want me, darlin’?”

spit dribbles out of your mouth as he continues his relentless attack on your ass, his hips pistoning as fast as he could manage. “o-on my face…” you barely manage to whimper out

and so his thrusts pause, and he manhandles you, now flipping you onto your back. he hastily pushes his boxers down, his cock springing back in protest against his stomach.

your mouth waters at the sight of his thick cock, his hands pumping him at a rapid pace, precum leaking all over his abs.

he hovers himself over your face, his knees caging your head. as he angled his cock at your mouth, he continued fisting himself vigorously. “gonna take my cum like a good girl?” he asks, raising his eyebrow. you nod your head yes, but this isn’t enough for logan.

“words, princess.” he quips, feeling himself close to his release.

“‘m gonna take it like a good girl, i promise lo” you whine, locking your eyes with his, your pupils blown with lust.

“‘atta girl…”

and after a couple more pumps of his dick, thick ropes of his cum coat your face. he’s spurting out more than you imagined—he was really fucking pent up. who would’ve thought that a sweet little thing like you had that much of an effect on him?

after he milked himself of all of his cum, he rolls over to your side. he glances over at you and wipes the mess off near your eyes. you chuckle a bit, licking off the cum that got on your lips.

you lean over and pull logan into a short kiss, allowing him to taste himself on your lips. “fuckin’ hell,” he whispers, his hot breath tickling your nose. he sits up, looking around the kitchen for a spare towel to clean you up.

“soo… does this count as our warm up for today?” you ask cheekily, propping yourself up on your elbow as you watch him pace around the kitchen.

“shut up, kid…” logan replies, groaning at your attempt joke.

[parkerluvsu]

okay wrote a request for chiropractor!art or some type of body worker!art a few nights ago very late and stoned so sorry if it was messy or phrased impolitely. if you would be so kind as to bestow some of your artistic talent upon the proposed concept, i would be very grateful, obviously no pressure or rush. please and thank you!

if you’re open to it, picture art being immediately smitten upon seeing you. you’re a little taken aback by his appearance and charm, but resolve yourself to focus on tending to your long aching body and focusing on pain management and healing to whatever capacity you may achieve.

little do you know, art is growing exponentially enamored. he was initially smitten by the way your eyes met his, your voice when you greeted him, and countless other little wonders about you.

he is the picture of professional, externally. no one needs to know he anticipates your sessions all week. schools himself into not losing his composure over the forced proximity prompted by the setting. he grows obsessed with trying to untangle and pinpoint the layers of your smell when he’s all up in your space. he’s being so normal about pushing up your legs as far back as they can go, slowly gaining more and more ground. he definitely doesn’t think about the ways he can bend and fold you right here right now, or the positions he could use his profession to help you work up to. he doesn’t feel his ethics hanging by a thread every time another lovely sound is pushed out of you. tells you to breath makes intense eye contact while coaching you through breathing in spite of overwhelming pain when addressing a tight spot. tenderly talking to you through any pain. touching every inch of you, to get to the root of any discomfort only, of course. he has immense respect for you, especially considering you’ve been carrying immense pain so gracefully for so long.

he knows he can’t date a patient but that doesn’t mean his mind can’t wander…

wonder what he thinks about… gets up to…

anyhow, thank you for entertaining this ask and full respect however you choose to engage with it or not.

thank you good sir.

holy fuck 😭😭 i mean what can i add to this perfect ask?!?!

im imagining that you didn't exactly know that your chiropractor would be a man.. i mean all your previous ones weren't, so when you walked into the clean, organized office and were met with the most gorgeous man you've ever seen.. yeah, you were a little surprised.

but you tuck those feelings deep down and try to be professional, telling him how it hurts when you raise your arm too high, and how your calves keep cramping no matter what you do. and art listens, nodding his head every once and a while and taking little notes on his clip board. but despite trying to he professional, you can't help but look away when his pretty blue eyes meet yours.

then he gets to work, telling you to lay on your stomach while he digs his thumbs into your leg muscles, and you're fighting the urge to make absolutely embarrassing sounds, but art couldn't even notice that if he wanted to.. he's in his own world, letting his hands massage and bend your legs gently, the soft skin sending him almost into a trance, sometimes interrupted by thoughts of rubbing lotion into other places on your body.. wondering if you're this soft everywhere.. wondering how far he could take this without you noticing his erection in his pants.. but art is a professional.. he wouldn't put his job on the line just to get his dick wet.. but that doesn't stop him from thinking about it..

in the next session you two have together (which art has been not so subtly preening himself for), art works on your shoulders, asking you to sit up while he presses his palms into your shoulder blades, biting his lip when you make a noise of discomfort, torn between wanting to comfort you, and wanting to hear more..

after he books your next appointment, art sends you on your way with his signature sweet smile, before shutting himself in his office and cancelling all of his appointments for the rest of the day.. definitely not because hes rubbing the sweet lotion that he always uses on you at your appointments into his hands.. groaning and spreading his legs in his chair to grant himself better access to shallowly thrust his hips into his hand.. the pink head of his cock peeking out of his fist every once and a while.. when the thought of your noises from earlier that day pop into his head.. arts a goner, shooting white rivulets onto his navy blue work pants.

cleaning himself up, art sends you an email insisting that it would be in his best interests if you would have a session with him 2 times a week.. of course just to help you feel better quicker, not because he needs more inspiration for those lonely nights alone at the office <33

[hella1975]

normal again :)

[the-unofficial-village-idiot]

Thinking about how i've been playing harry in regards to his interactiosn with kim and The Implications of it

[everybodysaycbx]

.

[kitten4sannie]

dolce and gabbana

pairing: san x guest! reader (fem)

genre: pure smut with a tiddlywink of plot

summary: san can’t seem to get you off his mind after sitting next to you during the latest D&G showcase, so he has no choice but to get you on his dick instead.

w.c: 3.3k

warnings: some alcohol use, subby until he’s not! san, dommy mommy who folds instantly when san asserts himself! reader, both reader and san mutually go after one another despite knowing one of them is MARRIED (hoes will be hoes what can i say <3), reader’s husband is a dick ofc, misogyny (from said husband), cheating, seduction, exhibitionism, mommy/daddy kink….. (i’m weak okay,,), teasing, ITS BIG BTW AND CURVED……, only praise and pet names (omg who hacked k4s???), groping, fingering, kissing, dry humping on a couch in a very crowded room, one neck bite, san cums untouched, oral (receiving), squirting, one singular pussy slap, san puts reader into a mating press on her husband’s side of the bed just for funsies, manhandling, size kink, breeding kink, creampies (sannie cums a lotttt)

a/n: as a pudding since day 1 i am in absolute shambles thanks for asking <3 and YES im very aware i posted yesterday but the fic demons cannot be silenced!!! and just fyi i’m sure san was very grateful and absolutely brimming with excitement to be at the show!! the way i wrote him here does not reflect his actual feelings towards anything,, its just a silly fic and i wrote what i wanted lol. also i wish i could tell you how many times “dolce and gabbana that’s on my titties~” played in my head while i typed this out 😭😭 (also i did not proofread this whatsoever so forgive me if there are errors) but anyways, i hope you enjoy :33

song recs: la romana by bad bunny, rover by kai, planet goddamn by mac miller

San knew eyes would be on him. Why wouldn’t they be? He was dressed to the nines, his hair slicked back to showcase his alluring, feline-like eyes, his sharp, angular features that could give someone a fatal cut if they looked for too long, and most importantly, he was all decked out in a sleek black custom-made top that perfectly adorned his broad shoulders and chest, one that even cinched securely around his impossibly tiny waist. Of course it did. It had been custom fit and made just for his body. Even the tailor had jokingly mentioned that Michelangelo himself must’ve sculpted him to perfection in the heavens before San was born, but San wasn’t laughing. He perfected his body through his own sheer willpower and determination alone, to be the best that he could be for his own self — and if people just so happened to drool over the results of his hard work, then that was simply a perk.

Holding his hand up to shield his eyes from the many camera flashes, he continued to make his way down the walkway, offering many of the starstruck guests a courteous, though charming smile, wondering if their wandering gazes were due to his breathtaking ensemble or what was sitting just below it. The thought tickled him. It continued to amuse him throughout the afternoon, taking picture after picture with eager guests and wealthy tycoons alike, quite pleased with himself when neither man nor woman could seem to control themselves around him, their eyes always drifting downwards to look San up and down like he were next up in an auction, their mouths pressed to their champagne flutes in an effort to quell the thirst they felt, their free hands lingering just a little too long on the small of his back when they bid farewell to him.

San relished the fact that these poor starving individuals could never get a taste of him, no matter how incredibly rich or influential they were. None of them would get a bite of the forbidden fruit without permission from God.

It was then that the show started, various eye-catching models sashaying their way across the aisle to showcase the latest D&G collection, all displaying their own unique set of features and charm. All flawless and angelic in their own right, but they were almost predictable in that way — like mannequins made solely for the rich and beautiful to gawk at. San couldn’t help but look past them, only focusing on the expensive, tailor made clothes that were framing their perfect bodies. And after a while, he almost seemed to grow bored. Of what, exactly? He wasn’t sure. Maybe it was the sheer gaudiness of it all, the lack of self awareness for things that really mattered in the modern world, and the almost nauseating amount of self-sucking the rich individuals around him seemed to be fond of doing. San would’ve pondered it more when somebody near him gently patted his thigh, causing him to look down at the small manicured hand, the diamond ring around your finger glinting in the light like a warning sign.

“Are you bored like I am?” you whispered softly into his ear from beside him, giving him a quaint smile when he turned his head to face you.

San blushed, leaning slightly in your direction. “Am I that obvious?”

“No, don’t worry. None of these drones will be able to notice.” You motioned your head to the crowd around you, their phones in hand, all whispering to each other about how revolutionary the new collection was, despite it looking eerily similar to the fall one from the year before. “You could whip your cock out and no one would bat an eye.”

“Oh?” San studied your flirtatious smile, then looked down just to make sure his eyes hadn’t deceived him. Yep, the ring was still there — and it probably cost more than a starter house. Delighted by your forwardness, San took it upon himself to tease you, reaching down to slowly unbutton his slim-fitted pants. “Well, if that’s the case…”

Your cheeks turning bright red, you reached downwards to shield his crotch from view, looking up at him with wide eyes, your faces now impossibly close. “I-i was fucking with you! Don’t actually take out your dick…”

San’s sharpened eyes flitted from your gaze to your cherry red lips, letting go of his zipper to gently take your hand in his, pressing it firmly down onto his thigh. “Yet…?” he challenged huskily, wondering if you were like all the others and would yank your hand back, scoff in disgust, and pretend as if it had never happened. It was then that San felt you squeeze your warm hand into the meat of his thigh, your fingers just barely pressing into the inseam of his pants.

“You can be a good boy and wait till the after party, can’t you?” you asked in a lower, sultrier tone, pressing your lips to his cheek to leave your mark on him, your hand moving further up his thigh, only pulling away when you felt something hard press into your palm. Smiling sweetly, you leaned in again, this time allowing your lips to brush over his. “Good things come to those who wait.”

And just like that, you turned forward to focus on the models all gathering onto the stage at once along with the designers, clapping along with the rest of the crowd when they all took a bow. You blew a kiss to one of the designers who caught it and pretended to put it in his pocket.

Still breathless from your short encounter, San nudged your thigh with his own, biting into his lip and tasting the sweetness of your lipstick. You nudged him back, glancing at him through the corner of yours eyes, licking at your own lips, like a predator would before pouncing on their prey.

San couldn’t believe he had finally met someone like you. There was a serpent in his garden — and he couldn’t wait for it to swallow him up.

-

The after party was predictable as always — strangers binge drinking and snorting powder off of your previously pristine marble tabletops, others telling embellished stories about their latest trip to their private islands to various locked-in acquaintances, some off doing god knows what in your many empty guest rooms, and you could not, for the life of you, care about what your husband was currently cackling over with his close friends, focusing on the crackling wood sitting inside the fireplace you were all huddled near. When you inevitably ran out of champagne, you patted your husband’s leg so that he could remove his arm from your waist.

He looked down at you with indifference. “What is it?”

“I need more champagne, honey. I’m going to get some.”

Your husband’s face scrunched up. “Haven’t you had enough? If you drink anymore, you’re going to lose your nice figure.” He looked to his friends for validation who simply nodded along in agreement.

Your husband’s chauvinistic comments didn’t bother you anymore, just his persistent presence in your life. He was like a mosquito that was always trying to drain you, one that you could never seem to swat away. Well, nothing a little dick couldn’t fix. “That’s funny, because I seem to recall the tailor coming in this morning for an emergency visit to alter a certain suit,” you mentioned, this time pushing your husband’s arm away from you, surveying his now quiet friends with an unbothered look, before wandering off, not registering the insecurity driven ramblings that your husband was sending your way.

Once you made your way into the crowded loft, you searched your surroundings for what you were looking for, humming at the sight of the pretty boy from earlier sitting on the large plush couch in the corner, a half-empty champagne flute in hand, his attention on one of the models that had walked for your husband’s collection a few hours earlier. He was even more handsome now that you could study his captivating details, your eyes drifting over his bulky frame, from his large arms and shoulders, to his delicate waist, and down to his spread thighs, zeroing in on what was between them, knowing that the beautiful stranger was blessed in more ways than one based off what you had felt earlier.

Without hesitation, you slowly made your way across the room, your stiletto heels digging into the fur carpet below with each concentrated step, licking your red lips when the model placed one of her hands on San’s thighs and squeezed it, his suddenly submissive expression causing more knots to form within your core. You were going to make him yours.

San could barely hear the pretty model’s words over the loud music and the many overlapping voices inside the loft, not knowing what to say when she moved closer to him, clearly going in for the kill. It was then that someone stood over him, their heel nudging into his loafer. He looked up, his once hazy eyes opening wide at the sight of you standing above him with a bottle of champagne in one hand, your other hand already cradling his face. “M-miss…there you are…”

“Here I am,” you purred, running your fingers along his jaw, satisfied with the fact that your lipstick print was still visible on his tan skin.

San gulped, just about spilling the drink he was still holding onto, unknowingly spreading his thighs open further, as if he was giving you an unspoken invitation to climb onto his lap.

Humming, you lowered yourself into his lap, your plush thighs and ass pressing snuggly against his lower half. “Look at you,” you cooed softly into San’s ear, not caring to give the now fuming model any attention, lowering the cold champagne bottle in between your bodies, chuckling at the soft whimper he let out when it pressed into the exposed sections of his skin. “You’re such a good boy, saving a seat for Mommy like this. Aren’t you, baby?”

“Y-yes, I am, s-so good for you…”

“Then, be good and open your mouth,” you purred, lifting the almost empty bottle and pouring some into your mouth. San’s jaw slowly dropped, not knowing that he was already beginning to drool. You didn’t mind, clutching the sides of his heated face and pressing your parted lips onto his, transferring the sparkling alcohol to him, but not without running your tongue over his.

San brought his hands up near the sides of your ass, his fingers trembling, not knowing if he was allowed to touch you, whimpering into your mouth when you sucked the alcohol off of his tongue.

“You can touch, baby.” You reached for his wrists and brought his hands underneath the hem of your short dress, gasping when he squeezed the softness of your ass in between his ringed fingers and began to slowly guide your hips, your clothed cunt rubbing back and forth over his stiffening cock. “Mm, someone’s eager, hm? You’re a naughty one, making the main designer’s wife grind on your cock like this in front of everyone.”

“It’s…Mommy’s fault…” San murmured near your ear, rolling his own hips up into yours, making you feel every inch of his trapped throbbing cock each time he ground himself into you, biting into his lip at the sound of your breathless moans, swearing he saw your grimacing husband from over your shoulder.

“My fault, huh? Mommy should make up for it, shouldn’t she?” you sighed back onto his heated skin, pressing kiss after kiss onto his collarbones, dragging your tongue along the constellation of freckles he had on his neck, making him shudder underneath you.

“Uh-huh…” San moaned out, your hand suddenly squeezing into and sliding back and forth over his erection, your thumb repeatedly rubbing over the pronounced tip, knowing he was staining his expensive pants with sticky pre-cum. “F-fuck, I’ll cum if you keep doing that…”

“So sensitive, baby, you’re so cute…but you’re not the only one, you know? Look what you did to Mommy~” You gave his balls a gentle squeeze just to hear him whimper, before letting go, instead reaching for his hand again and leading it between your legs, moving your soaked panties to the side just in time for San to fill you up with two thick fingers.

“You’re so wet…” San groaned, unable to keep himself from adding another digit inside your slick hole, beginning to pump them in and out of you, allowing the both of you to listen to the obscene squelching sounds your cunt made each time he finger-fucked you. Something switched inside of San when you began to whine and whimper, and fuck yourself back on his fingers, your eyebrows screwed upwards, begging him for more with your teary, half-closed eyes. “So fucking wet just for me, huh? Hey, Miss, did you know your husband is standing just across the room? Think he’s hard knowing I just got his pretty little wife wetter than she’s been in her entire life?”

“B-baby, don’t tease me like that,” you whispered, not wanting the control you had over him to slip out of your grasp, grabbing onto his shoulders, accidentally causing pieces of his solid outfit to fall off and land onto the leather couch.

“It’s San, Miss, but you can call me Sannie if you wanna be a good girl for me,” he chuckled, shoving his fingers into you up to the knuckles, rolling your clit around underneath his heavy thumb. “And, I’m not teasing you, my love, he’s really watching us, and he looks like he wants to kill me.”

Just as you looked behind you to catch your husband’s displeased gaze, San began to ram his soaked digits into your spasming cunt, feeling his lips, tongue, and teeth on your neck. “O-oh my god, Sannie, oh, fuckkkk…”

Just as your warm arousal began to pour out onto his fingers and lap, San bit down into the area where your neck and collarbone connected, letting out a few stunted groans, his hips jolting up into yours, coating the insides of his designer pants with white.

“Did you just…?” you began, before San stuffed his fingers into your mouth, growing quiet and sucking your arousal off of them. He pulled them out with a pop, but you didn’t even get the chance to continue your question because you were suddenly being lifted up into the air, strong hands clutching your thighs, your legs hooked around San’s waist.

Your defeated, emasculated husband was just a blur when San carried you through the crowded room and up the stairs, not stopping until he got to the largest room at the end of the expansive hallway.

“Which side does your husband sleep on?” San asked, once he stood at the foot of the kingsized bed.

“On the right. Why do you–O-oh,” you gasped as he quickly laid you out on the right side of the bed and lifted your dress up, forcefully spreading your thighs open so that he could bury his face in your cunt, repeatedly lapping at your slit and clit over your soaked panties until he couldn’t take it, reaching up to tear your panties off with ease. “Sannie, baby boy, what’s gotten into you?”

San looked up at you with dark, dilated eyes, reaching up to his broad body to rip off the rest of his outfit, his solid muscles flexing as he closed his fingers around your waist, yanking you lower so that your cunt was closer to his face, looking like he was about to eat you alive. “Daddy’s hungry,” he simply replied, diving back into your cunt to lick and slurp up your juices, tonguing your hole just to feel you clench around him, his nose nudging your clit as he ate you out like a starved man.

Sooner or later, you began to shudder and pant, tugging at the ends of San’s sweaty hair, your thighs pressing into the sides of his head until he forcefully held them down, quickly moving his head up and down as he dragged his tongue roughly over your throbbing clit, his focused eyes never leaving yours. “S-sannie, I’m really, fuck– I’m gonna cum…!”

“Cum for Daddy,” he demanded gruffly, stuffing three fingers into your cunt and pounding them into your g-spot, lifting your ass up with his other hand so that he could catch the stream of arousal that suddenly squirted out of you, some of it inevitably soaking into the satin sheets below you. San licked your juices from his lips, going down to give your puffy cunt one last lick to savor your taste, before standing up from the bed and unbuckling his pants.

“Y-you….Did you get possessed by a demon?” you asked half-jokingly, unable to keep your thighs from trembling, wiping the sweat from your forehead with the back of your wrist.

“And if I did? You’d still let me fuck you, wouldn’t you?” San smiled devilishly, his dimples appearing, kicking off his pants and running his closed hand along his curved, dripping length. He pressed his thighs against the side of the bed, running the tip of his cock over your lips, watching fondly as you sucked and licked the beads of pre-cum that leaked from the slit.

“I would.” Lifting yourself up so that you could completely rid yourself of your disheveled dress, you reached up for the handsome stranger, licking the saltiness from your lips. “Now, come here and show Mommy just how much Daddy wants her.”

San wasted no time climbing back onto the bed and folding you up into a mating press, leaning back to send a few wads of spit onto your cunt, smacking his hand against the wetness for good measure, before he plunged himself deep inside you.

You just about screamed, not ready for San’s unusual size and shape, the curve of his cock rubbing deliciously along your tightening walls each time he pounded himself into you. “S–ann–ie…! It’s so big, fuck– so good!”

“Aww, poor baby’s never had a big cock stretching out her pretty pussy before, huh?” San cooed into your ear, pulling all the way out, just to slam himself back in, hitting your g-spot dead on, making you cry out deliriously. “You’ll never be able to go back to your husband after this. You’re gonna be begging for me to take care of you from now on….” San pressed his lips against yours, sucking on your tongue as you moaned out for him. “Want you to cum for me again, baby…Squirt on my cock, okay?”

“S-Sannie, it’s too much,” you whined out, dragging your nails down his broad back, your toes curling just as San punched your next orgasm out of you when his curved cock once again came in contact with your g-spot.

As you began to cry from the overwhelming pleasure, San licked your tears away, gently pressing his lips into your cheek and jaw, shushing you. “Don’t worry, baby. Daddy’s here for you.” He clutched you close, holding still inside you, as his cock began to twitch. “Here it comes, princess, just for you.” A hot, creamy stream of cum began to shoot out into you, completely drenching your insides with his load.

You could hardly speak at this point in time, solely concentrated on the pleasure that still had a hold on your sore body and the warmth that was filling you up to the brim, suddenly realizing that your husband really wasn’t going to be happy with you. “Y-you shouldn’t have…nnnngh….”

San continued to roll his hips into you, his eyelids fluttering, groans spilling from his throat, your cunt still milking his pulsing cock for all it had, which was a lot, to say the least. Once there was nothing left to give you, San leaned down, pressing one last kiss to your lips, not caring that you had left your lipstick all over him. “Can I ask you something, baby?”

“Y-yes, San?”

San smiled, his glossy brown eyes glistening in the light. “When you have my baby, will you have the heart to tell your poor husband that it’s actually mine?”

Panting heavily and trying to process what the handsome stranger just said, you finally came to the realization that you let someone who didn’t even know your name possibly impregnate you. Well, at least you had something to talk about over breakfast with your husband, rather than hear him go on and on about his latest collection.

“I’m not sure about that one…”

“Can I ask you one more question?”

“Hm?”

“Should I name our baby Dolce or Gabbana?”

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

© kitten4sannie, 2024.

[prettyboykatsuki]

✮ tags ; pwp, fem + afab!reader, dubcon (reader is drunk af), dirty talk, rough-ish sex, the liiiightest yan undertone. 18+

✮ a/n ; im not a kiri fucker but i . had a thought in the shower

Kirishima fucks like he has something to prove.

That part of him hasn't changed, you think. It's a bad time to be reminiscing about such a thing, especially since your brain can't think of anything other than how good it feels to have such a thick cock buried in your sore, weeping cunt.

Kirishima has stopped briefly, just to bottom out and press his navel to your sex - so your brain has a little space to think. You don't know exactly how you've ended up here after thinking about it for a long time. The alcohol is making your head feel fuzzy and your lower half is weak, might melt into Kirishima's nice king size bed if you're not careful.

An hour ago, you had come off of work and joined some friends in an izakaya. Kirishima was there too, seemingly with his own friends. You hadn't seen him since middle school, when he shorter and more negative. You had a crush on him then, back before all the hero stuff.

It was refreshing to see a boy your age obsesses over something like being a perfectly chivalrous man. You were friend though not closely, and had a dopey school girl love affair that never came of fruition. You didn't speak to him after that, weren't close enough to ask - and watched him grow into a hero through televised events and news.

He's a pro now. He was much bigger than you thought he'd be. You didn't think men could get that big, unless they played basketball or something. He was shorter than you in middle school but when you saw him again in person, he was double your height. You had to crane your neck up just to get a good look at his face. Defined jaw and rugged, boyish charm that made your cheeks warm like you hadn't grown out of being a girl.

You thought he wouldn't recognize you since he's basically famous now, but he did. Flagged you down and whisked you away for drinks and catch up time. Your friends pushed you to go, so you did. You drank and spoke about nothing in particular and Kirishima seemed so enraptured with you - you thought the alcohol had fried your brain. Thoroughly tipsy and giggly, you admitted to having a crush on him in long and unnecessary detail. That you liked him, and seem to still if this feeling is anything to go by.

You hadn't expected anything of it. But he kissed you in the corner of the bar and asked if you had anywhere to be, hauled you into a taxi when you said no and made out with you on the way home. Put his hand underneath you shirt and squeezed your waist, said something about how cute you are. Always have been.

No one seemed to think anything of it when you left. Pro-Hero's escort drunk girls all the time, but you wonder if it's normal to fuck them? You wonder if Kirishima has practice in bring home drunk girls who are too big for their boots and too needy to be anything but sincere.

He's so good at fucking you, you aren't sure you'd mind that being true. Not like this.

He didn't give you any time to adjust to what was going on, every breath had him chasing more of you like he'd run out of time if he didn't rush. He carried you inside, licked your pussy while you laid against his kitchen counter and finger fucked you until you could take all eight inches of him. Was he always this relentless? You know he was never kind, no matter how much he seems it. He was always critical and cunning, but you didn't expect him to be so ruthless.

He doesn't let you off of his cock after he gets you on it. Makes you wrap your arms around his shoulders even though you barely can because he's so big. Makes you wrap your legs around his waist and tells you to hold tight as he walks you up the stairs with his cock still twitching. The whole thing makes your eyelids burn with pleasure, your body yearning to keep him inside of you for as long as you can stay conscious which is barely when you're this wasted.

He dropped you in his bed and fucked you in missionary. You think in the span of a few hours, you've spent more of it feeling his cock throb inside of you longer than you've spent without. He's too big, and fucks mean. There's no chivalry in it, just pure primal desire behind weight and heavy thrusts that make you gasp involuntarily.

You haven't stopped cumming. You've never done that so much in a row. Your body feels nearly numb as you think on it. He's been keep you like this for so long and the alcohol is making you lightheaded. You can barely understand what he's saying except that he's loved you for so long. You wonder if that's true. Your pussy likes it though, clenches every time he groans into your neck after the headboard hits the wall with his thrusts.

He fucks you like he wants to prove something to you. You don't know what exactly. You're drunk and floaty and you can't stop cumming and you can't think of anything other than how much you want him to fuck your brains out. How much you want him to cum, so deep in your pussy you'd have to push it out to get rid of it. How much you want to cum around his cock until you get so fuckdrunk you pass out on it.

A little pleasant catching up and now you can't unfurl your spine from the way it's raised, and your toes hurt from how tight they've curled. You feel ditzy with it. Didn't know cock could make you cum so much you turn stupid and babbling. It's all you've been doing and Kirishima doesn't seem to mind it all. Just laughs at your nonsense words and kisses you with sharp teeth and fucks you.

And fucks you and fucks you and fucks you, with your knees to your ears and your eyes blurry and hazed.

"Kirisihima-kun," You gasp at him, breathless and hot.

"Eijirou," He corrects with a nip to your mouth. "We won't leave each other now. Not anymore."

He punctuates with the promise with a thrust so deep you can't do anything but agree. You wonder if all this is trying to prove his love for you, but how you could that be true? It's been years.

Another thrust makes your lower belly clench, and something squirts out of you mid thrust. You're too hazy to feel self-conscious of it and Kirishima only laughs.

You close your eyes and let him have you. Again and again and again.

[if-loves]

reverence

// Yandere Capitano

sum: when a man stands in front of an altar, is it a god he prays to?

wc: 822

warnings: probably OOC capitano

a/n: capitano + worship is everything to me / also i didn’t really go so hard on the yan i think?? maybe it’s been too long or maybe idk what im talking about

likes & reblogs are appreciated :)

Capitano has never been one to pray. He respects the Tsaritsa, he is thankful to her even, but he is merely not the kind of man to worship, to pray. He is a righteous man, yes, and he does not need to rely on a higher being to be that.

Capitano has seen war. He knows war, far better than most, but he has never found the need to make desperate pleas to a god, an archon that can do nothing. He’s far more content in placing those bets on himself.

Yet he finds himself in a dilapidated church, hidden deep in the woods, the cold Snezhnayan wind seeping through the cracks and holes of the building, the ends of his coat fluttering along with it. With calm steps, he walks towards the crumbling statue on the broken altar, noting the vague resemblance to the Tsaritsa.

With a gentleness unbefitting of him, he closes his eyes and kneels with his head lowered, a hand on his heart. He does not know how to pray, so he hopes this will suffice.

Capitano rarely kneels, for there are very few he deems worthy of his respect. But when he kneels in front of this altar, he does not kneel only to show respect; he kneels to worship, to adore, and most importantly, to love, and none of it is for the Tsaritsa or anyone else for that matter - because in his heart, there is only room for you.

In his mind, thoughts of you never cease, not even for a moment. They always exist, whether in the front or back of his mind, like a stream of water. He wishes, silently, that you would never have to part from him, that he could bring you along to all his expeditions. He wants so desperately for you to always be by his side, to always be able to hold you in his arms, but he of all people knows that there is no point. He is lovesick, yes, but he is not so mad as to place your life in danger when the safer, safest, option is right in front of him.

And so, when Capitano prays, he prays not to a god nor an archon, but to you. He has no need nor desire to pray to superficial beings who do not care for a human like him. You, you, on the other hand?

You need him, and he needs you. You are the blood that flows through his veins, the air he breathes, the heart that pumps in his chest and most of all, his soul. You are his savior, the singular person in this harsh world that deserves his utmost devotion; if it would please you, if it would satisfy you, he would single-handedly raze Teyvat into cinders, and bring you the ashes.

Capitano doesn’t know how long he’s stayed kneeling, a gloved hand on his heart, eyes shut. Perhaps it has been minutes, maybe even hours, but the wind outside has calmed. When he rises, the metal of his chains screech against the floor, and it reminds him of war. Taking a deep breath, he opens his eyes and turns his back against the altar and its statue.

Perhaps he should build a shrine for you at home. A glorious statue of you, sculpted by only the finest of sculptors, with every single detail no matter how big or small engraved into it. It will have only the things you enjoy, whether it be food or candles or flowers, no demand of yours unmet, lest it be leaving the estate; if there is one wish he cannot grant, it is that.

The wind softly blows his hair and the fur of his coat as he makes his way back to the estate. It is late, he muses. The sun has set.

He wonders if you’ve already fallen asleep, if you dream of him. He wanted to surprise you with his return, purposely telling you in his letter that the journey would take a week longer than expected. He wonders if you’ll be happy to see him, if you will leap with joy or hug him with longing. He imagines each potential reaction with fondness, until the mansion is in sight, guards stationed at every corner, bowing their heads at his arrival.

It is silent, eerily so, when he walks in. Without conscious effort, he finds himself on the way to your shared bedroom, his heart pounding in his chest. Gently, he opens the door, a small streak of moonlight his guide.

There you lay, ethereally so, asleep in the warmth of the covers. Upon reaching your sleeping self, he kneels once again, taking your hand in his. Once more, he prays.

“I love you.” He murmurs, the warmth of your palm against his cheek. Perhaps what he loves most about you is the humanity you make him feel. “I love you.”

[bitternanami]

something i think is really interesting about dungeon meshi is the cast's respective views on food as the story progresses. the way many adventurers get through the dungeon is to eat when they Must, but mostly rely on healing magic to keep going when they're tired or beaten down. death is something you can buy your way out of, here.

having these lower stakes when it comes to running yourself too hard has made a lot of people in this setting kind of devalue food and what it does for you.

im not all the way through the manga yet, but so far i really like how it goes about debunking that mindset.

long post under the cut, cw explicit discussion of disordered eating. textual depiction of unhealthy methods of dealing with it. please be cautious!

it seems like to most folks, food is either a decadent luxury, like when the governor offers mr tance a feast as a show of power and wealth, (although he is the only one who actually eats in that scene as he talks about his ambitions);

[id: the governor and mr. tance talk politics and hierarchies, while the governor eats from a bowl. mr. tance's meal is not visible behind a speech bubble.

"so you believe the sorceror is an elf?" he asks.

"i can't say with absolute certainty," mr. tance replies, "but the spells are not ones dwarves and humans typically use." /end id]

like the painted-royal feasts laios tries to partake in that never actually nourish him...

[id: laios, fresh out of the living painting feast, surprisedly holding his grumbling stomach /end id]

or, to the working class, it's pretty much exclusively fuel. i'm thinking about the scene where kabru's party, ostensibly intended to be our view into how adventuring Typically goes for most people, is shown preparing to go to the dungeon by like. walking up to someone and ordering 'a weeks' worth of rations.' purely functional.

[id: kabru enters a store, and the merchant says "welcome!"

kabru says "i need a week's worth of rations for six, and two days' worth of water."

"sure thing." the merchant then reaches behind him and grabs a large cube-shaped package, wrapped in nondescript cloth and tied in place. it thumps onto the counter in front of them both. /end id]

when kabru hands mickbell his food for the trip, he complains about how heavy it is on his back. it's a necessary liability.

we also see chilchuck, in an early chapter where there isn't much food to go around, grumbling about how he used to be better at not noticing when he was hungry. he's frustrated that he's more attuned to his bodily needs, now that he's starting to fill them with regularity.

[id: chilchuck, the only one awake, sits in his bedroll and glares at the timekeeping-candle burning down in front of him while he listens to his stomach growl. moving to find his canteen and fill himself with water instead, he thinks to himself, "my stomach has gotten weaker. i used to be able to go two days without food." /end id]

(like im not even gonna lie this is a big mood. the healing process is really really annoying)

even laios, early on, working out the logistics of going back for falin, considers his expenses and ultimately the thing he decides to save money on is their food supply. like, even the guy most invested in eating as an experience kind of just assumes he will Figure It Out. its what hes eating, not how hes eating it that matters to him at that point.

[id: marcille looks down at the ingredients they've gathered, the walking mushroom and the scorpion in an unappetizing heap on the ground, and asks laios "so how exactly do we eat them?"

he responds "let's just cook them, like normal." /end id]

but its here that senshi introduces the idea of food as art and as healing. its exciting and its fascinating for laios, getting to taste the creatures hes been reading about and fighting, but i dont think it would ever really help him feel full if not for this.

[id: three panels of laios tasting the scorpion hotpot, looking stunned, and then excitedly telling senshi "delicious!"

senshi matches his energy, asking "isn't it? isn't it?" /end id]

pictured: guy who had resigned himself to kind of just doing his best rediscovers the joy in something tasting really fucking good

what they did last time isnt going to work. falin is gone, and constantly anesthetizing their pain and healing through their weakness is no longer a realistic option for the party. in order to make it through they must all relearn how to eat well, one by one and as a group over and over again, because its either that or nothing.

one of my favorite depictions of this idea thus far is when marcille is seriously low on health and mana, and both of these problems are mitigated by taking care of herself, and trying to get iron and protein

[id: marcille, looking sickly, wakes to laios saying, "marcille, marcille, can you sit up? we've got something nice for you."

she watches senshi grill pieces of kelpie liver on a low fire, while laios ties a bib around her neck. /end id]

and drinking a bunch of dead water spirits. she gets the idea, she's supposed to get in nutrients and it'll help her feel better, but in aiming for the quick, inefficient fix, namely chugging that shit down like she heard it was good to Stay Hydrated and decided that would be the thing that fixes her,

[id: marcille throws back a cup of boiled undine-water, her face red. laios asks, "do you really need to drink it that fast?"

she gasps out "...the magical energy stored in nature spirits is actually quite hard to absorb. even if you drink a lot, the majority of it is excreted without being absorbed," and takes another drink. "that's why i need to drink as much as i can."

laios says weakly "you'll get water poisoning," but marcille only stops when senshi puts a hand on her shoulder and says,

"it's easier to absorb nutrients if ye digest them with food. that's a fundamental rule of nutrition."

marcille says, "senshi..." contemplative

and he holds out a bowl of tentuclus and a thumbs up. "let's get cooking!" /end id]

she doesn't immediately realize the answer is that she needs more than that. she's been working hard. she needs care, and she needs nourishment.

once she gets that, though, she makes her boiled water into a stew, and she works to make that stew as good as she can, and everyone can have some.

because in dungeon meshi, to feed yourself or allow yourself to be fed is treated as performing a kindness for yourself. food is what propels you, but there is also an art and a joy inherent to the process of making it; in the way you feel when you've had enough to eat.

[id: senshi watches as chilchuck and marcille eat and excitedly hash out plans.

"i've got a good feeling about this! maybe it'll work out!" chilchuck says

marcille responds, "well it's easier to feel optimistic on a full stomach!"

senshi smiles, proud. /end id]

^^^ i want to put this image on my wall

when you're working through disordered eating habits, you really do have to keep learning this shit. (in my experience, learning about cooking is one of the best ways to do so.)

i'll have to see if my thesis holds up as i continue, but i think one of the reasons the portrayal here resonates with me so hard is that ryoko kui puts most of her characters at eye level with me on this. they're all working at it, too. the text and i are both commiserating, and encouraging each other, 'have some more, you'll feel better.'

[pshaven]

undercut heeseung as your uni bf texting you to meet him at the Janitor's closet and makes you suck him

well… YES!!! (mdni) (also how did you guys move on from black undercut heeseung im still stuck in paradoxx invasion)

i’ve always feel like heeseung is the handsy type too… so the moment you step inside his hands are all up on you, from your waist to your chest to your thighs, groping and feeling up whatever he can.

his hands sliding up your shirt when he has you against the door, and he could care less about your squeaks and protests of i have lecture in ten minutes! or i have to meet with the professor for office hours soon!

cause why would you choose going to lecture or office hours over him? not like you could anyway, with the way his lips are attached to your neck and collarbone. he hasn’t even said a word since you walked in, your excuses falling on deaf ears as he moans into your skin.

his hands are now down your shorts, a low growl coming from his chest since the jean material barely lets him through. “thought i told you to wear a skirt this morning,” he mumbles while peppering kisses around your lips, clearly teasing your restraint.

“you’re not the boss of me,” you huff, eyes rolling in irritation as heeseung grins at you, his long fingers finding its way to your clit.

“you wanna be the boss of me today, then?” he hums, his nose nuzzling into the nape of your neck, his teeth grazing your skin.

you ignore him, knowing that his words are basically meaningless. there’s only one way to bring heeseung down a peg— so you turn the two of you around, heeseung’s back hitting the door as you drop to your knees.

he stares down at you, his eyes filling with admiration and lust as you palm him through his jeans. “thought i told you to wear sweats?” you mock him, your tongue peeking out between your lips as you pretend to lick him over his pants.

heeseung tsks at your words, impatiently undoing his belt for you, revealing his boxers and a thick bulge. you smile triumphantly, fingers pulling down the fabric in the way.

“wipe that smile off your face. you owe me from last time, don’t you remember baby?” he smirks down at you, his perfect teeth shining that makes you look away from him in annoyance. he takes his cock into his hand, stroking himself slowly in front of you, his tip purposefully right in front of your lips.

you purse your lips into a pout, brows knitting together as you’re reminded of the other day, heeseung spending your entire lecture hour just eating you out in the very same closet space.

“hmph, you’re kinda bratty today. i dunno if i really like it or not,” he muses, his tip now prodding at your pouted lips. his free hand cupping your jaw, slightly pressuring the sides to signal you to open your mouth.

you don’t answer him, instead opening your mouth and taking him in. you both know well that heeseung doesn’t care whether or not you’re bratty— he likes you no matter what.

he hisses, resting his head against the door as his eyelids lower to look at you. “ffuuck, thats it…” he hums, his thumb rubbing your cheek soothingly as you suck him off.

hallowing your cheeks, you begin to bob your head and let your tongue run lick at his underside of his cock. he sighs like he's seen the light (he might as well have), licking at his own lips as he stares down at you.

you hum around him purposefully, suckling at his tip that causes him to buck his hips into your mouth a little. "ah- yeah, like that," heeseung moans, a bit too loud, like he wants to be caught in your nasty act.

and then he's giving you that look, the desperate, bambi eyes peering at you that tells you he's close. he's never one to last long with you giving him head, his throaty moans and slight whines indicating he's nearing his orgasm.

heeseung is still touchy with you, a hand holding your lower cheek and jaw. you suckle more at his sensitive tip, his moans only getting whinier by the second. you pop your mouth off, your hand replacing your warm mouth as you begin to stroke him.

"oh- i-i'm close," he whispers, barely audible as his chest heaves up and down, breathing heavily. "so fuckin' nasty.. lettin' me use your mouth- hah," ever the chatty when he nears his climax.

you want to snicker a little at his state, but you'd be a hypocrite since your throbbing cunt would prove you're no better. "mmhm," you hum, sticking your tongue out to lap at his tip the way he likes.

a guttural groan leaves his lips, mumbling something about how pretty you look, the effect you have on him is dangerous. his abs tense up underneath his wrinkled up shirt, his free hand grasping at the shelf next to him to keep him somewhat on earth with you.

"fuck-shitshit-!" he curses, eyes screwing shut as his orgasm overwhelms him, your lips wrapping around him last minute to capture every last drop he gives you.

he sighs heavily once you pull away from him, your throat bobbing as you swallow him. "hm, you've been eating more fruits, recently?" you randomly ask him as you stand up, brushing your (probably now bruised) knees.

he gives you a slight nod, "um, yeah? why?"

"tastes good," you inform him, a grin playing on your face.

anddd heeseung feels his cock hardening up again.

HEY GUYS.... this has been ROTTING in my drafts for FOUR MONTHS... and i'm taking way too long for break the skin (i apologize) so i hope this suffices as a little filler.. hehe

[snoopyearss]

smut! | mdni

Possessive!Gojo who will walk up to anyone who is talking to you (doesn’t matter the gender) and make it known you two are together. He’d wrap his arm around your shoulder and ask you “so who’s your friend?”

Possessive!Gojo who embarrasses you in front of the person you’re talking to. He would make up some stupid lie and drive the person away. Just imagine you’re at some bookstore with him and a guy walks up to you. Gojo hears the man’s voice and then he hears yours giggling, and suddenly he’s booking it to where you are. As soon as he sees you chatting with the other male, he walks up to you as if he just randomly bumped into you. 

“Hey! How are you? It’s so nice to see you! How is that rash you were telling me about? Did it clear up? I heard it was contagious, you might wanna be careful.” Or something like that, and the man talking to you would get grossed out and walk away. You turned to him and lightly slapped his arm. “Was that really necessary?” You huffed. “Very necessary.” He would answer and give you a big sloppy kiss on your cheek.

Possessive!Gojo who would text you “damn so which position are you both in right now” if you’re taking too long to respond to his text messages. “Which round are yall on?” He would text. “Satoru, I’m in the shower??” You text back. And you roll your eyes at what he texts in response. “Send proof?”

Possessive!Gojo would leave hickeys on your neck and do unnecessary amounts of PDA when he’s around your friends or in public in general. You guys would walk up to your friends and they first notice that fat bruise on your neck. “Geez Satoru, give her a break once ina  while.” Suguru would joke. Gojo would place you on his lap when all of you would go out for drinks. Kissing on your neck then migrating up to your jaw and your earlobe, whispering sultry things in your ear and you giggling in response. “Ugh, Satoru enough! Get a room you two.” Shoko would whine.

Possessive!Gojo who pounds into you in the club bathroom after spotting you dancing on another man while he and Suguru are talking. Everything Suguru said was going in one ear and out the other as he watched you swivel your hips and look back at him. He knew about your little game. He knew you liked to tease him, get him a little upset so he can fuck you later. Gojo would stand up from where he was sitting and walk directly to you, taking your arm and making his way to the bathroom. And this is where we are now,

“O-Oh, F-fuck! ‘Toru- shit!” You can barely let out a proper moan, it was getting cut off by how hard he was fucking into you. Your knuckles turning a different color with how hard you were gripping the sink. You were facing the sink, eyes tightly shut as you took every stroke he gave you. “Dirty girl, you wanted me to -fuck- catch you dancing on him so I can take you back here, d-didn’t you?” His resolve was slipping, you were so tight around him and it was driving him insane. 

He pulled you by your hair and lifted your head up to face the mirror, “Look at yourself baby, look at how good im fucking into you. You like this? You like getting bent over the sink? Our friends are probably wondering where we went. You’re lucky the music is loud enough so they won’t hear you.” Your eyes began to roll back at the words dripping from his mouth. “Oh my f-fucking- g-go- ‘Toru! I-I can’t! I’m gonna-” Babbling nonsense while telling him you were so close. His pace would change to a more rough pace, the way you like it while rubbing all sensitive areas on your body and get close to your ear to talk you through it. 

Possessive!Gojo who cums deep inside you and takes your panties so people can see it drip down your leg. He must let everyone know you’re his.

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

bakugo and reader meeting again after a long time like maybe katsu has been away on a mission and he just misses us so much 🥹

anon this is literally such an adorable request!! This has been sitting in my drafts for the longest time cus i could never rlly figure out what i wanted to do with this, but as soon as i got the inspo i got to it !! im so so sososuuupperr sorry for making you wait so long and if you’re still sticking around, I LUB YOU !! anyways, i tried honoring this lovely sweet request as best i could, if you’re reading, i truly hope you enjoy (and all of you ofc!!) <33

fem reader, jus pure fluffy fluff ! katsuki n reader watch selling sunsets bc my mom does lmfaoo this ones for you momma, kissing, biting (lol will i ever stop), lemme know if i missed sum else !

katsuki regrets planning this surprise.

it’s been one month. exactly 31 days since he’s last seen you. one month he had to survive off of late night phone calls and good morning messages.

katsuki had slowly but surely started climbing up the ranks as a hero ever since he’d gone independent and this mission was a huge steppingstone to victory.

except it involved him going abroad for a month.

you’d congratulated him when he’d told you. you hugged him hard and offered him your brightest sunshine smile, you’d made him dance around your little living room with you, celebrating his ‘rise to stardom’ as you’d called it and he remembers chuckling about it. you’d even gone out of your way and made his favorite to celebrate. but now katsuki understand you were probably doing that so as not to worry him.

he's known you for a long while and he knows you know he can tell when you’re lying, so he was sure you were happy for him. (you can’t fake anything from him and especially not the way you smile, he’s committed that to memory). and you truly looked happy for him, but he knows youwell enough to know that you were also devastated to find out he was leaving for so long. he’d seen the way your eyes widened and your shoulders dropped. but knowing you, you probably powered through it so as not to make him worry.

so stupid. you’re stupid. and he misses you so much.

despite you being in different time zones you make it work. he made sure to be updated daily and called you every time it was time for you to go to bed to make sure you got some well needed sleep and not staying up late mindlessly scrolling through your feed.

you send him pictures of everything happening throughout your day and you’d hound him about his, asking him if he’d eaten well and if he’d beat up any bad guys. and no matter how minuscule his actions were you’d always praise him. as somewhat childish as he knew it was katsuki still walked with his head up high for the rest of the day. if it was to impress you and make you proud, he’d be on the clock 24/7. but, knowing you, you’d get mad at him for overworking himself.

he misses you so much.

he’s on the plane. making his way back home to you a day before he’d told you he would be, his surprise. you’d been so excited, your squeals ringing through the phone, katsuki just couldn’t wipe the smile of his face and goddamnit he tried.

“ou, i can’t wait ! i missed you sooo much, katsu !” you chirped, he couldn’t wait to hear your voice in real life again instead of through his phone.

“yeah, missed you too sweets” he hums, packing up the last of his stuff.

“you better be ready cus when you get back, m’not gonna let you go for a whole month.” you tease, giggling. katsuki huffs out a laugh, looking down at his luggage ready to go as he’d fully finished packing up while you were on the phone.

“uhuh~?” he muses “better be ready for me when i get back. yer not goin’ anywhere either. no bathroom breaks when we're cuddling.”

“ew,” you snort “what am i supposed to do if i have to pee ?”

“that sounds like a you problem, sweetheart.”

you laugh and laugh and katsuki smiles, he couldn’t wait to be able to hear and see it again. expect not one phone call away, like he’d told you he always would be when you’d accompanied him to the airport all teary eyed, but in real life.

except now he’s starting to regret not just coming home on time.

don’t get him wrong, the sooner he gets to you the better. he’d meant it when he told you he wouldn’t let you go and as somewhat embarrassing as it is to him that he had gotten so clingy, being away from you for so long really did a number on him. distance makes the heart grow fonder his ass, he was more than fond of you when he was laying next to you every night instead of all alone in his hotel bed.

but right now he’s way too antsy. he wants to tell you about how he’ll be home soon to hear you squeal and giggle, but he sucks it up in favor of surprising you.

it’ll be worth it. at least that’s what he tried to convince himself when he finished packing up. and on his way to the airport. and on the plane..

who even thought of this stupid surprise idea anyway ?!

he can’t sit still. he has to stop himself from tapping his foot against the floor and shuffling around in his seat. the guy in front of him keeps reclining his seat back but it doesn’t bother him that much, because all he needs is to remember your smile and remember he’s coming home to you, and he feels his nerves settle. recliner-seat-guy be damned.

it’s pitch black by the time he’s off the plane and finally back home. when he checks his phone he sees it’s 2:09 am and you’re no doubt dead asleep by now, he smiles at his phone screen when he sees you smiling back at him.

his limbs suddenly feel heavier the higher the numbers show on the screen inside the elevator to his floor. his body buzzes with excitement but for some reason he can’t help feeling nervous. katsuki knows it’s stupid because you tell him every day how much you miss him and how excited you are to see him. all he wants right now is to see you.

he fumbles around a bit when he fits his keys into the door to walk into your tiny shared apartment and when he finally walks back inside, katsuki is reminded why he does this. why he’s been gone for exactly 31 days.

he kicks his shoes off quietly and sees yours left right by the door like they always are. like he always wants them to be. he wants to come home to your shoes by the door and to you smiling at him brightly and greeting him, or beckoning him over to the couch because you’ve been waiting all day to watch your favorite show with him. (he’s forbidden you from watching any episode of selling sunsets without him, the last time you did he got cranky at you for a good 2 hours.)

katsuki sneaks over to your room, socked feet padding over to the door quietly cracking it open. he’d managed to convince you to move in with him a few months ago, claiming it’d lower costs and yapping about how you practically lived here anyway. it was barely anything to get used to, it felt natural, like this was everything his life was leading up to. but he wants to give you everything you deserve and this cramped little apartment is definitely not it.

he wants to give you a cosy little house, or a penthouse or even a fucking mansion if that was what you wanted, as long as he could be there with you he didn’t care. he’d do whatever he could to get you everything you dreamed of at the flick of a wrist. and that’s why, as annoying and lonely as it was to be without you for so long, he’d pushed through.

katsuki needs to save people, and he wants to. but everything he does, he does with you in a little corner of his mind.

you’re fast asleep like he’d expected, katsuki huffs out a laugh, brushing at your cheek with his finger. his heart almost explodes when you try to lean into the faint touch and he can’t help it anymore. he sits down by your side and kisses your cheek. once, two times, three times and a little one on your nose. if he wasn’t feeling all mushy he’d be an asshole and bite you, but you look so cute he’ll put that off for now.

your nose scrunches up and your eyebrows furrow at the wet kiss onto your skin, you instinctively go to rub at your face with a whine, katsuki chuckles to himself when you open your eyes and the lack of distance between you both meaning your quite literally face to face with him.

“katsu..?” you mumble sleepily “ ‘m i dreamin’ ?”

katsuki chuckles, eyes soft “glad to know ya dream about me, but nah, this isn't a dream.”

you blink sleepily, and katsuki recognize those bright eyes he so loves gleaming the more you wake up “katsuki !” you squeal, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him straight against your collarbone, since he was practically nose to nose with you before he knocks against your chin but you both don’t care.

katsuki crawls into bed and wraps his arms around you tightly, snickering into your neck and you into his hair. you squeeze and squeeze him so hard he thinks you’ll suffocate him but he couldn’t care less, squeezing you like he’s trying to mold you to him.

you breathe him in and he flips you both over with you giggling uncontrollably. you topple over and land straight into his chest. you lift your head up with stars in your eyes like he’d hung up the moon for you and katsuki smirks back softly. because he would. he’d hang up the moon and the stars and more.

all for you.

“you’re back !” you chirp, kissing all over his face. katsuki feels his cheeks hurt, this is the hardest and longest he’d smiled in a month.

“how’d you figure that one out ?” you roll your eyes at his sarcastic remark, blowing lip bubbles against his cheeks as punishment. he playfully pushes your face away from him and you laugh.

“i thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow..” you quickly reach over to your nightstand to check your phone then throw it back down.

“it is tomorrow.” katsuki quips, already getting back to being a smart ass, you roll your eyes but you can’t wipe off the happy look on your face.

“you know what i mean, asshole” you jokingly narrow your eyes at his smug face and press a finger against his cheek “later tomorrow i mean. was gonna surprise you and you….out-surprised, me” you pout at your ruined plans.

he turns his face so he can sink his teeth into your pointer finger and you quietly squeal in disapproval, he smirks “was gonna, but couldn’t wait anymore. needed to see you.” he pulls you closer to run his nose against your pulse point “felt like i was gonna go fucking crazy if i stayed with those other bastards for a second longer.”

you giggle, placing your hands against his shoulders as he kisses up and down your shoulder and neck haphazardly “ don’t be mean.” you scold.

he lifts his head up to raise a brow at you, hands running up and down your sides “you mean to tell me you wanted me to stay away? didn’t miss me ?” he jokes, squeezing your hips harshly.

“of course i did. missed you so much i felt my heart would tear up sometimes..” you smiles sadly, running your fingers through his blond strands, he frowns "but i'm glad you're back now."

"yeah, and m'not leaving again for a damn long while." he squeezes you so hard he lifts you up in his lap a little bit and a surprised noise leak out of you. he lifts his head up from your chest to smirk at you in challenge "you're gonna have to get used to me and my big mouth all over again."

your heart squeezes, you feel like it'll bursts from happiness and katsuki wonders if he' supposed to feel this happy, if it's okay to be this content with one person. but only for a moment, because he's greedy, so so greedy for you. and he doesn't care if it's wrong because he gets to make you happy, to make you smile and laugh, to have you.

and katsuki does everything for you, so he gives himself to you without a second thought.

you hum, placing your hands against his soft cheeks to press your lips to his "got a month worth of your big mouth i need to catch up on." you whisper before finally closing the distance. you both immediately sigh in relief at the contact, being able to feel each other like this again. you smile into the kiss and katsuki thinks he's never felt more at peace.

after a month, exactly 31 days, katsuki's finally back.

bonus :

"hey." katsuki ask, you snuggle into his side and hum.

"did you watch any episodes of selling sunsets without me ?"

you stiffen.

"n-noooo..." the sheets shuffle and crinkle when katsuki looks down at you. you shrink into yourself.

"maybe one or two.." you squeak out meekly. immediately he's flipping you over and pouncing on you.

"fuckin' traitor." he growls.

"i'm sorry i couldn't help myself !" you wheeze when he starts tickling your sides, kicking at the sheets "it's been a month !" you screech trying to catch your breath.

"yeah i know that !" he exclaims, ignoring the way you're thrashing around as he mercilessly tickles you.

"i'm soooorryy !!"

[wokelander]

SOMEBUNNY LOVES YOU !

ft. leon s. kennedy x gn!reader

tags. hybrids, owner leon, slight coercion, cunnilingus..i hate that word, pussyjob, slight suicidal mention.. hybrids are treats like pets, they have more animal instinct, reader is nonverbal, gn but good boy is used :3

note. commission for @aizawas-dryeye !!! SPROUT I HOPE U LIKE THIS IM SORRY IT TOOK SO FUCKING LONG!!! hopefully there r no mistakes 😭 but if there r ignore them… i changed the plot a lot bc i really like hybrids and i think there r so many fun ways to use them butttt i ended up w this i hope u like it!! if u would like a comm :3 pls dm me! feedback always appreciated <3 this is older leon i think… di and onwards

Leon leaves the office late, but Hunnigan leaves later. She’s wound tighter than a nun’s pussy—Pussy, not asshole, everybody knows butt stuff doesn’t count. He wonders if she ever goes home.

The last time he did see Hunnigan outside of the office space was a month ago, they ran into each other at the grocery store and it doesn’t matter how long you know her, it still feels like bumping into a teacher in public. She looked hot with her hair down and her glasses off, but Leon kept that to himself like the good, decent man he is trying his best to be.

“You sure you don’t want a ride home?” He asks her as he pats himself down. Keys. Phone. Wallet. Gun. “The rain is getting pretty bad.”

“I still have work to do,” Hunnigan brushes him off, she doesn't even lift her gaze from the pile of paperwork.

“Okay, well, your last chance is going, I’m going, and I’m gone,” Leon supplies very obnoxiously as he waltzes past Helena’s empty desk to caress the edge of Hunnigan’s like it’s a really nice ass.

“You can do that quietly, Leon.” He hears when he steps out into the hall.

The rain is so heavy it patters loudly against his jacket—This is vintage fucking leather, but bringing an umbrella with you is just so uncool. The only one Leon has laying around is the one Ashley left at his place and it’s polka dot. He wouldn’t be caught dead in polka dots.

It happens as he’s walking past glass-fronted buildings, revolving doors and every hostile architecture strategy in the book. It used to be the President cracking down on the homeless crisis, not in the way you’d expect of course, but now it’s to ward off stray hybrids. Foxes mainly. Culling is unethical, TerraSave insists.

The occasional alley cat is nothing new, but bunnies? That’s a new one. Bunnies are spoiled little things. He’s only ever heard of show bunnies. Ones that get pampered and decorated like wedding cakes, taught how to jump through hoops so they can get a pretty sash to show off to all their bunny friends.

You tug at his jeans, curled up on the pavement like a fast food wrapper. From under your shirt you produce a muddied teddy bear and wave it around.

“Oh,” Leon says, and then he looks around like someone might catch him bending down to take a closer look at you, “hey there, little one.”

A flash of irritation wrinkles your face, it passes quicker than a lightning bolt. You’re wearing ratty house slippers, he notices as you thump your foot, shoving the teddy into his face once more.

You squeak, agitated by his inability to understand hand signals and bunny noises and twitching ears. Leon crouches down so the two of you are at eye level, and that was a mistake—A really, really big fucking mistake.

He’s always had a soft spot for small creatures with big, watery eyes.

(Sherry, Ashley, Manuela, a stray cat he took in for a couple of months before that left him too, and more recently Rebecca.)

“Fuck, okay, alright,” Leon curses into the open air, his ankles click when he stands up, god, he is getting old. He offers you his hand.

Your initial hesitancy wanes when he smiles at you as kindly as he can smile. No teeth ‘cause what if you think he wants to eat you?

“It’s not a long walk,” Leon tells you, and for a hybrid with such big ears, you don’t seem to understand him, blinking at him stupidly as you trip over yourself in an attempt to match his pace. He slows down, and then when he notices you flinching at every car that whizzes past, Leon shifts so he’s walking next to the road instead.

“Yeah, okay, just—Wait there, yeah?” He sits you down on the couch when the two of you get to his place, shaking rain water off his phone as he moves into the kitchen. It’s not like you can understand him, but if you’re just playing dumb and you really do understand, Leon doesn’t want to hurt your feelings or anything.

Ashley answers after the first ring.

“Hellooo?” Her voice is more nasal over the phone, his ears tingle.

“Hi, Ashley, uh—“

“Hi, Leon, oh my god, it’s been, like, forever!” Usually, he would entertain her a little because Ashley has only ever meant well, but you’re sitting there lost and soaked to the bone on his couch.

“Yeah, I know, I’ve been been busy—“

“You always say that, are you still in D.C by the way?” She’s talking over loud music and muffled voices and laughter.

“Yeah, I’m in D.C. still, wouldn’t go anywhere else—Are you still in Michigan, Ashley?” Leon knows she has a property in Grosse Pointe, more importantly that she has a hutch full of bunnies, a start-up, her father said.

“No, Leon, I left months ago— I told you that already, I messaged you, can you not just open my messages?” She demands, not harshly, rather imploringly. “I’m in Miami right now actually.” She adds a moment later, her pink lipstick likely rubbed off on the straw in her Mai Tai.

“I do read them,” Leon insists, but he does not, “I got a bad memory, but, uh, okay—Ashley, the bunnies do you have those?”

“No, that got shut down, like, when I left, Leon—It was your friend, the redhead?” Ashley huffs, he can see her pouting at him through the phone. “She shut me down, her company did, like, Terrorist something?”

“TerraSave.” He corrects.

“Yeah, Terrasave! They shut me down!” She doesn’t sound half as upset as she should be. She seems to be amused more than anything.

“Why?”

“Funny story actually,” she laughs, “the bunnies got sick super quick, I mean, Leon, bunnies get sick super fast, they also fuck like a lot—“ She says that word in a hushed voice. “Anyway, they kept making noise and my neighbours complained, and it turns out you need a licence to breed bunnies, I didn’t know that?”

“Holy fuck, Ashley, are you—“ He shakes his head, doesn’t even bother to try and fathom what goes on in that empty head of hers.

“Yeah, so, they told me if I didn’t get them to a local shelter on time they’d press charges against me, something about their rights? But, like, Leon, I heard that shelters can kill them if it gets overpopulated.”

“Right..?” He says, not liking where this is going.

“So, the night before my flight I just let them go.” She says breezily.

“Oh my god, Ashley.”

“Why were you asking?”

“Nothing, just, nothing, I’ll talk to you later, okay?” Before she can pull him back in with her absolute ridiculousness, Leon hangs up.

What the fuck is he supposed to make of that?

Leon frets in the kitchen for a few minutes, rubbing his hands over his face, scratching his chin, biting his nails, tosses a few things into the floor. By the time he’s done, it looks like the room was picked up and shaken.

He re-enters the lounge, smile taut like a stretched rubber band. You’re sitting right where he left you, swinging your legs absentmindedly, threadbare teddy sat between your thighs. “I guess it’s just you and me for a while, little one.”

A night turns into two nights into a week into a fortnight into a regular part of life. Caring for you becomes a part of Leon’s routine. It comes to him as naturally as holding a gun does.

Hybrid shelters in D.C. are overpopulated, pet shops only take cats and dogs, only he has space for you.

It's lucky you’re easy to love. Fluffy-eared and cuddly and sweet like a stuffed toy. You curl up in his lap and love him in the way no one else has.

You stay.

Mostly because you don’t have the tact to get up and leave. These four walls are your home now and you don’t know any better. You don’t know what’s past the front door. All you know is that it was cold out there and that it is warm and safe inside with Leon. He feeds you, bathes you, loves you—Why would you leave?

There used to be this coldness inside of Leon, an empty space so vast it felt as if galaxies had been compressed and placed inside his chest cavity. A black hole in place of a beating heart. Ada’s restless ghost on his hip like the gun in his holster, and then nothing but himself.

And now you’re here, loving him, making his heart flutter faster than your lashes when you want a treat and you’re so… You don’t doubt Leon, his word is law and it’s not making things easy on him. It’s hard to hold back when you wander around with his boxers on or in your birthday suit or in nothing but those silk shirts he saves for work events.

(He could tell you to bend over, he could ask you to open your legs, and you would do it, but he can’t do that to you.)

You’re a distraction he welcomes into his life, but holy shit, this is hard. Trying to be decent is hard. Vicodin killed his libido, but he took one look at your thighs and the way they squished when you sat down and his dick came to life. You did the impossible, you’re literally Freudian fucking Frankenstein and it sucks. He can’t do that to you. He can’t do that to you. He will not do that to you. He will not fuck this up.

When he gives you a bath, Leon tries to make it all very impersonal. Like he’s a nurse and you’re a patient, that only brings to mind all those nights he’s spent watching sexy nurses fuck men out of bed rest. When you prance over to him naked as the day you were born, Leon closes his eyes, counts to ten, and shifts his jeans slightly. When you’re playing on the ground, rolling around a brightly coloured ball, Leon does not look at the soft, wet spot between your thighs. He does not do that.

He will not do that.

“You seem happier lately,” his therapist notes delicately, he clicks his pen incessantly, it makes Leon’s ears buzz. He’s a man because Leon cannot keep his hands off the lady therapists. They’re usually older women, and that in itself is enough to get him clucking.

EAP bullshit, which by the way, is not a legal requirement—They only send nutcases to the thirteenth floor, and Leon apparently counts as one. Usually, he has a lot to say, a lot to complain about - the skyrocketing cafeteria prices, new recruits not laughing at his jokes, everything a therapist does not need to hear.

This time, he’s quiet, there’s no need to empty his mind when you’ve cleaned it out for him. It’s like you stuck a cotton swab up his nose and pulled the bad parts out of his brain. Just didn’t get to that sick, horndog part of it. Leon’s not sad anymore, more pent up, hard, turned on, aroused. All of that.

If he was a cop, he wouldn’t have to get a mental health check, he would just get a gun and go unmonitored, no one would worry about him killing himself or anything. Leon does get a shiny badge that gets him out of speeding tickets and to the front of the liquor store line though.

The session ends, he gets a message from Sherry as the door clicks shut behind him. Her flight is cancelled, she won’t be able to make it to lunch on Friday.

Before, this would’ve sent him to the nearest bar and Sherry would still be able to smell the liquor on him by the time they finally find another time to meet in the next month or so.

Leon has you now, so there’s no need to be sad. He goes home and is greeted by big eyes and your cotton puff tail and—You’re naked. Okay. That’s nice, it’s nice, he can’t lie. He would never oppose to seeing someone hot naked.

He also can’t pass up a good fuck.

You look like one hell of a good fuck.

Bunnies are, like, built for it. They’re like God’s gift to earth — organic sex dolls. Thighs and hips and ass. He can’t help it. Leon cannot help himself, and that is really an issue he should bring up with his therapist, but he spends his sessions chattering about things that won’t matter next week.

After placating you with pets and a twenty minute cuddle on the couch, shaking you off on the pretence that he’s gotta clean up after work, Leon sheds his clothes and tries to jerk off in the shower.

The cold water batters his back until he’s numb, like the day he found you, and then he spots your face peeking into the bathroom. Your nose twitches, taking in the scent of his body wash, padding closer and knocking on the steamed glass curiously.

Leon wipes it down with his hand, and he smiles at you tiredly, hopes you can’t see the blurred outline of his stupidly hard dick through the glass.

He makes out your figure through the steam, soft and plush and so fucking fuckable. His dick aches. God, he thinks he hears it whine like a kicked dog. Leon wants to touch himself, but he can’t when you’re right there, blinking at him with those eyes—Fucking blowjob eyes, man.

This isn’t right.

Don’t do it, you’re so fucking cracked, Kennedy—If you do this to them, you’ve got no fucking morals—

Leon steps out of that shower, dripping wet, his feet sinking into the bath mat. You chirp and press into him, little hands gliding over the protruding ropes of flesh that sweep over his back. You don’t know what they mean, but Leon always finds that you’re drawn to touching his scars, soothing any phantom pains.

“Fuck, baby,” he sighs, saddened that he has to do this to you, that he has to fuck the shit out of you, “just stay right there, okay?” His dick is leaking like crazy, the tip is wet and it’s pressed right up against your tummy.

If you notice, you don’t say a thing, but you never say a thing.

You just take it.

Shifting slightly, Leon angles his dick between your thighs, keeping you close to him under the guise of a hug. “Press ‘em together for me, sweetheart, a little tighter, little tighter—There we go, my good boy.”

Preening at his praise, you don’t seem very bothered by the cock that wets your slit with the sticky tip. Leon places a hand on the back of your head, bringing it to rest on his shoulder as he rocks back and forth, dick cushioned by your puffy pussy lips.

His body trembles, wrapped around you so tightly his embrace is crushing. You whine and squirm, wanting him to loosen his grip. Leon’s shaking hands find purchase on your hips instead, the tip of his cock bumps your clit and your floppy ears move so fast they almost hit him in the face.

Little by little, you begin to get it. Bunnies are sex-crazed little maniacs. Give a bunny the tip and they’ll take the whole cock. They are nature’s pocket pussy.

Each time Leon pushes his hips forward, in turn you push up on him, the two of you fall into rhythm, matching pace and panting quietly in the heat of Leon’s badly ventilated bathroom.

His cock jumps like he’s a fucking virgin, it’s so sudden, tip smushing against your clit in a nasty wet kiss, and you squeak, eyes wide like saucers, blunt nails digging into his shoulders.

“Sorry, baby, can you—“ Leon shudders, every nerve in his body alight, tingly as a weight settles in his gut. “C’mon, baby, that’s it atta boy.” He urges you onto your knees, cupping your cheek with one hand, keeping your chin up so he can spunk on your cute little face.

“You’re a good boy,” he says shakily, toes curling as his stomach muscles contract, dick twitching with each stroke, “you’re so good, baby.” That keeps you at bay, and you watch him from below with great fascination, running your hands up and down his thighs and driving him fucking insane.

The first dribble of his seed splats on your upper lip, you recoil and squeeze your eyes shut. Leon apologises under his breath as he palms his cock, wringing every last drop out of it. He doesn’t stop until his balls feel like the weight of the world is lifted off of them.

You blink up at him, mildly mortified, wildly confused and partly happy when he smiles down at you guiltily.

“Sorry, baby,” Leon sighs, pulling you up off the ground and wiping you down with a hand towel.

In response, your ears flick from side to side, flattened against your skull and your foot thumps stubbornly. You’re agitated. Maybe ‘cause of the facial, he thinks, but Leon notices that you’re shifting from foot to foot, knees going inwards as you squeeze your thighs together.

Oh. Right. He blue balled you. And pulled your ears a little too hard. God forbid he fucks you from behind, he might rip them right off your head.

Ushering you out of the bathroom - the steam was getting to his head - Leon lays you down on his bed, spreading your legs and placing gentle kisses up your inner thighs.

It’s ticklish so you squirm away from it, tail twitching and your body twisting. Leon splays a hand across your abdomen to keep you in place, keeping his eyes on you, on your curious face as you push up onto your elbows to watch him. Aw. Bunny’s first orgasm, what a treat you’re in for.

He likes going down on people, likes to watch himself in their eyes, likes watching himself make them feel good. Call him narcissistic, but it makes Leon feel better about himself. Like, yeah, he did that. Made them cum so hard their brains melted out of their ears.

“Settle down, baby.” Leon soothes you with a kiss to your mound, the soft fur is matted with his pre.

His kisses trail down your slit, then back up, lips smacking wetly on your twitching clit. Leon pulls the hood back with his thumb, rubbing away at your bud with the pad of his thumb until he frays your nerves. His tongue works its way into your slick hole, curling upwards, as far as it can go—And the whole time, all Leon’s thinking is, damn. He should’ve waited it out. Shouldn’t have lost his composure back there, god, this cunt is so tight he should’ve had a go at it.

Oh well, he has tomorrow, and the day after that, and a whole lifetime with you hopefully.

In a matter of minutes, you come undone and it might be the cutest thing Leon has ever seen. You’re the cutest thing he's ever seen, so this is fucking adorable. He wants to squeeze you until you burst, snap you in half like a popsicle. It washes over you like a wave, lapping at your curling toes and making its way up your body. Your thighs tense and snap shut around his head, Leon pushes them open with ease, and then your back bows off the bend and you let out the cutest little whimper and god.

Why did he wait so fucking long?

You liked this, you liked it a lot.

Leon finds that you can’t get enough of it. Insatiable. He can’t blame you, it’s in your genes, and tomorrow he is going to push his dick so far up into you, he’ll knock something out of place.

A letter drops through the letterbox a while later. It’s from Sherry. A postcard from wherever she is. She sends them often to placate him. It’s a vintage painting of a bunny in a bow, and in cursive font along the bottom it reads: Somebunny Loves you.

Leon smiles without even reading what she’s written, filing it away for a rainy day and slipping under the sheets where somebunny is waiting to love up on him.

[tgcg]

bad mouther, hole master

TG: kissing with tongue is gross as hell

CG: COME THE FUCK OFF IT.

TG: what

CG: I'M SAYING SHUT UP.

TG: oh

CG: IT'S NOT THAT WEIRD. IT'S LIKE THE NATURAL PROGRESSION OF REGULAR KISSING TO EVENTUALLY INCLUDE THAT. IF YOU HAD ANY SEMBLANCE OF ROMANCE GHOSTING THROUGH THE DEVOLVING REMNANTS OF YOUR THINKPAN YOU'D APPRECIATE WHAT IT BRINGS TO THE NUTRITION PLATFORM OF ANY CONSENTING CONCUPISCENT RELATIONSHIP!

TG: youre talking about it like its a goddamn military weapon or some shit

TG: some kinda scientific fuckin method to fondle a dudes mouth with your own mouth thats

TG: thats gross

TG: this isnt supposed to be a debate before fuckin congress on the pros and cons of getting your mack on

TG: its i would say a reasonably personal thing to react about and thats just my reaction man you dont gotta arbitrate it

TG: and like why the hell do they have to linger on it so long in these movies do they really want me to immerse myself in people necking each other that much

TG: roll the sounds around in my earholes like im swilling a fine fuckin wine

TG: well my professional opinion is that shit tastes and sounds mad gross and tbh i havent seen a single movie where it was close to being any kind of necessary

TG: its just a cringy waste of everyones time

CG: YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT, AND I DISAGREE WITH EVERYTHING THAT COMES OUT OF YOUR IGNORANCE GASH, YOU LUMP OF TIGHT-LIPPED CLUELESSNESS.

TG: did you just homestar me

CG: FOR THE SAKE OF ARGUMENT, SINCE YOU'RE APPARENTLY DESPERATE TO START SHIT WITH ME RIGHT NOW: HAVE YOU EVER EVEN DONE IT?

TG: hell no

CG: THANK YOU FOR PROVING MY POINT.

TG: proving your point--

TG: bro have uh

TG: have YOU???

CG: EXCUSE ME? HAVE I WHAT?

TG: come on

TG: i walked into this stupid conversation with a fucking shovel and by god am i digging myself a damn hole big and wide enough for every dave across time to squeeze in so i might as well get cosy in this shit before we all start collectively shoving dirt in our mouths

TG: bet your ass im taking you down with me though

TG: grab your spade and get digging man

CG: GRAB MY WHAT????????

TG: just tell me

CG: ???????!!!!!!!!

TG: karkat

CG: NO!

TG: f-

CG: WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM!!!!! WHAT PART OF "SHUT UP" DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND????

TG: wait no

TG: oh my god dude

TG: you can spin that shit all you want but you can do it the hell away from me

TG: i do not need to be hip to your weirdo foursquare fantasies

TG: patently not my business

CG: STOP RIGHT THERE. JUST SHUT IT. I AM PUTTING US OUT OF OUR MISERY RIGHT NOW. I AM CONDUCTING AN ACT OF MERCY ON THIS INSANE FUCKING CONVERSATION AND YOU ARE GOING TO ZIP YOUR LIPS AND TAKE IT.

CG: HERE IT IS: YOUR SINGLE OPPORTUNITY TO PRETEND YOU NEVER SAID THAT TO ME. I AM GOING TO FORGET YOU MADE A COMPLETE MOCKERY OF ME AND MY CULTURE THIS ONE TIME. AND LET YOU CONTINUE TO DIG YOUR STUPID, SHITTY HOLE.

CG: AND DAVE, I AM BEGGING YOU NOT TO WASTE IT.

CG: TO ANSWER YOUR SHOCKINGLY INAPPROPRIATE QUESTION, NO I HAVE NOT DONE IT.

CG: WHO GIVES A FLYING FUCK.

CG: HAPPY?

TG: ……..

TG: way to defuse the situation solid work

TG: real gold star effort grabbin that lit wick and blowing on it

TG: ok first of all you asked me first so dont act like im the one being a weirdo about this

TG: second of all i didnt mean it like that and you know it

TG: THIRD of all what the hell was the point of engaging the knightly theatrics then if you cant even verify that shit

CG: WELL FUCK, SORRY DAVE! I GUESS I'M JUST A FUCKING ROMANCE ENTHUSIAST! I GUESS I GIVE A MAJOR SHIT ABOUT THE THING YOU'RE OPENLY MOCKING TO MY FACE! IS THAT SO IMPOSSIBLE FOR YOU TO WRAP YOUR THOUGHT SPONGE AROUND?

CG: AND IT WAS COMPLETELY REASONABLE FOR ME TO ASK YOU THAT, YOU CONGEALED FETID NOOKSTAIN! MY STATUS ON THE MATTER HAS LITERALLY NOTHING TO DO WITH THE POINT EITHER OF US IS TRYING TO MAKE.

CG: TRY TO KEEP YOUR NUGBONE FROM CAVING IN ON ITSELF WHEN I DROP THIS BOMBSHELL: I'M ALLOWED TO HAVE OPINIONS ON THINGS I ACTUALLY KNOW ABOUT, EVEN IF I HAVEN'T DONE THEM! I DON'T JUST GO TROUNCING THE FUCK ABOUT LOBBING MY UNFOUNDED OPINIONS AT PEOPLE LIKE I KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT ANYTHING. UNLIKE SOMEONE WHO MAY OR MAY NOT BE INVOLVED IN THIS CONVERSATION WE'RE HAVING RIGHT NOW!

TG: youre

CG: I’M TALKING ABOUT YOU BY THE WAY. THE SOMEONE IS YOU.

TG: oh gimme a break

TG: bro youre going apeshit over something you havent even done

TG: you know what that sounds like to me it sounds like an overcompensating fake fan who doesnt get any

TG: you heard of troll napoleon complex

CG: AT LEAST I ACTUALLY FORMED MY OPINION BASED ON CAREFUL CONSIDERATION --

TG: -- oh yeah i bet huh

CG: -- INSTEAD OF JUST BANKING ON NUBJERK --

TG: -- not a real thing you just said

CG: -- REACTIONS AND WRINKLING MY SNIFF NUB AT ANY SIGNS OF GENUINE PHYSICAL INTIMACY!

TG: stop saying nub

CG: YOU EMOTIONALLY CONSTIPATED BULGEWAD

TG: not too much worse than being a perpetual fountain of emotional diarrhea

CG: DON'T YOU DARE.

CG: DON'T YOU DARE TRY TO USE THAT AS A "GOTCHA", YOU--… YOU! FUCK!

TG: dude did you actually run out of insults

TG: okay this is getting concerning

TG: youre the international dude of verbal dunks

TG: that can not be happening

CG: AAGHRJRGHJRGRHJAGHRJGRHJAGRHJRGRHJRGRHRJR

TG: you cant run out of em youre like the ultimate peddler of hate

CG: YOU DON'T THINK I'M CRITICALLY AWARE OF THE HOOFBEASTSHIT I'M SPEWING NIGH FUCKING CONSTANTLY?! I AM PAINFULLY COGNIZANT OF HOW MORONIC EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS IS!!!!

TG: feel like ive done some damage here

CG: ESPECIALLY MYSELF!

TG: alright bud time to calm down

CG: YOU CALM DOWN!!!!

TG: okay whatever!

CG: WHATEVER!!!!!!!!

TG: jeez

…

TG: here

…

CG: UGH.

TG: yeah

TG: really glad stuff like this happens in private

CG: YEAH. SAME HERE.

CG: JEGUS, CAN WE GO BACK TO BEFORE WE HAD THIS CONVERSATION? I DON'T ASK YOU MANY FAVORS, SO SURELY YOUR SLURRY OF ILL-DEFINED TIME POWERS CAN ALLOW YOU TO DO SOMETHING LIKE THAT.

CG: JUST LIKE, WIPE THAT WHOLE THING OFF THE SLATE.

CG: LET'S START OVER. SAY, FIVE MINUTES AGO. HOW DOES THAT SOUND?

TG: what conversation?

CG: OKAY, GOTCHA.

[esoteriamaya]

Astro Observations Pt.. ????

No, I cant keep up with the number. Lol. Lets go!

7th house placements def need to pick a side. They also need to put their foot down. Never let people who disrespect you back in. And if you're going to cut off one person for doing it, you gotta do it with everyone else. Just cause they relationship is long term doesn't mean much.

10th house placements need to focus on the things they truly love vs always digging into what they need to do for their career. Worry less about your ambitions from time to time and enjoy the flow. I know ti sucks but, you gotta relax a little.

Sun/Pluto placements can have a lot of rebirth experiences, but one thing that is important is their for growth. Which always seems to come through transformation, but not all the time. It comes through people, and the expression of being around people who love you. Thats what transform them the most. They need the world to truly see them for who they are, other wise they will only show one side of them, and that will ultimately be the version they transform into but it will only kill them from the inside and not benefit them.

Venus/Neptune placements have an inkling for romanticism, fantasy and philosophy in their relationships. They need something that makes them breathe words of enlightenment, purity and emotion. They have the tendency to make things seem more than what they are, rose colored glasses are no match for them at times. A little insight on them is that their emotions can go a little array when they aren't surrounded by the right people. They tend to suck in energy like a sponge, this is neptune energy. But with them you can notice a small difference between them and their lovers, like is it making them glow or is it draining? Thats what they need to ask themselves at times.

Jupiter in the 11th house can proudly be the most optimistic friend in the group. They could become the leader of an organization. They could be the one people come to for advice on certain matters or they could easily be someone people go to when they want to learn more about something. Very charismatic and sharp. Stern but sweet. A little rough around the edges but they get things done!

5th house Suns have a universe of emotions that express themselves in all types of ways. They'll have kids that are just as sweet & charismatic as them. They are a NATURAL at making people laugh! They normally have gorgeous spirits and people do enjoy their company.

Gemini placements have an alluring nature to them due to their minds. Their mysticism is through the art of words and are very tricky individuals. They have come here to master the mind and find ways to fully express their intellect in hopes to connect with as many as possible. They are a one of one when it comes to this area of life.

Moon in the 1st are seen as thoughtful, loving sweet creatures who everyone seems to be super fond of. They hide a lot of their emotions but sometimes we can tell when they're not okay.

Theres just something about them that brightens a persons day. They try to make a good example to others by the why they embrace their feelings and this usually inspires others to do the same.

Sun square neptune - Might be in the wrong crowd from time to time. Has to stay sober most of the time, getting into drugs and alcohol can be addictive and might not be worth it at times. Genuinely misunderstood. Might need a doctor to figure out why they act the way that they do (all jokes).

Very spiritual, this is contained tho. They dont really open up to people about religion or anything connected to spirituality/God. Its their own thing, and its very special/private to them.

Moon/Uranus placements - Needs a doctor. Okay im joking lol. Anyways their lucky to have this one because their minds are very capable of entering into mass amounts of information that is truly locked away from the rest of the world. Like their neptune friends, they have a connection to divine sources that strikes down to them from time to time almost like a brain blast. Could be a oracle, psychic, someone who just knows whats going to happen in the next years to come etc. Could be really creative too.

4th house placements can be friends you can depend on all of the time. They have a warm, soothing personality and their the type of friends you grow up into adulthood with.

[ellecdc]

hi mother i love ur writing !!! i was just wondering if you could write something with any ship that has james in it, where they're proud of reader bc she cleaned her room? i have really bad adhd and im cleaning it rn and im pretty proud of myself :) anyways its okay if not ! i love youuu !!!

thanks for your request, lovie (and congrats on cleaning your room!!!) here's a little baby blurb for you <3

marauders x roommate!reader who cleaned her room [500 words]

CW: platonic but could be read as something else, fem!reader, hints at non-platonic feelings but nothing outward

“One second, I’ll ask.” James says before he’s knocking on your bedroom door.

You had hardly raised your head to answer before he was pushing open the door door, his knock unanswered.

“Hey angel! Sirius and Remus are wondering if we want them to pick up- OH MY GOD!” He cut himself off, shouting as he looked around your room in…horror?

No, he was looking around your room in shock.

“What!?” You could hear Sirius shout from the other end of the line; a conversation that James had seemingly abandoned as he stared around your space. 

“What did you do?” James asked you breathlessly; finally moving his disbelieving stare from your belongings to yourself.

You suddenly felt horribly aware of yourself. You’d been cleaning all day; you had moved every piece of furniture and hoovered underneath and behind them, you had sorted out your closet and dresser, and you had finally organised the things that you had stashed under your bed to ‘deal with later’.

All this to say: you were sweaty, likely dirty, and you were sure your hair was in a right state.

“James what the hell is going on!? Is everything okay!?” Sirius’ muffled voice shouted from James’ phone. 

“James, you’re giving Sirius a fright.” You chided instead of drawing more attention to yourself.

James seemed to remember himself at that and brought the phone back up to his ear. “Sorry, sorry. What was that, Pads?”

Sirius’ response was quieter than before, but you could tell by the tone of his voice that he was still worked up.

“No, no. Sorry, everyone is fine. It’s just…bloody hell Pads, she cleaned her room!”

Another hot flash of embarrassment surged through you.

“It wasn’t that bad.” You mumbled as you folded your last shirt.

“Of course it wasn’t, angel. That’s not what I meant.” James offered; significantly softening at your worried expression. “I just know this had been on your list for a long while, and I also know how fucking hard this must have been.”

You hardly had a moment to wave him off before you heard Sirius shout “we want to see!” from the other end of the line.

Protests meeting deaf ears - because it apparently didn’t matter that they’d be home in a measly half hour - James was quickly turning the call into a facetime and pointing the camera around your room.

“Oh my god!” Sirius echoed James’ earlier sentiments. 

“It looks great, dovey!” Remus chimed in. “You must have been in there all day!”

“It looks amazing.” James agreed quickly, bending over to survey under your bed. “Think you can do mine next?”

“Prongs!” Remus was quick to admonish. “No, she’s done quite enough for the day I’d say.”

“Forget I asked anything Prongs; we are getting pizza and we are celebrating.” Sirius decided. 

“We don’t need to celebrate the fact that I cleaned my room, you sods.” You scolded.

“Oi.” Sirius called with faux severity. “Let us celebrate our sweet girl if we so please.”

“We should get a cake, too.” You heard him add as he and James ended the call.

“It looks really good, angel.” James repeated; no longer looking around your room in awe, but rather at you with a peculiarly soft expression. 

“Thank you Jamie.” 

James spent a moment longer smiling at you before he was turning to leave your room. “I’ll set up the living room for us. What movie do you want to watch? Don’t answer that; I already know!”