galaxychaos

30 💖💜💙 Minors DNI🔞 she her/they them BLANK BLOGS AND AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED ON SITE‼️

[kamuifade]

Ong shikamaru pulling out to slap your pussy when you get too needy 😏

You could barely move. Your hips and thighs burned from being folded in the same position for so long—legs forced all the way back, knees pressed nearly to your shoulders, ankles locked in the firm, unyielding grip of Shikamaru’s hands. The stretch had long since crossed from uncomfortable into something sharper and meaner: a deep, shaking ache that lived in the hinges of your joints, the soft vulnerable insides of your thighs, and the tight pull of muscle along your hips. Every time he shifted even a fraction—every time he rolled his hips or adjusted his hold—the burn flared hotter, a bright, helpless flare that made your toes curl and your breath hitch. You could feel the strain in every fiber, your body locked open for him, completely unable to close your legs or ease the pressure no matter how much your muscles trembled and begged for relief.

Your cunt throbbed from being edged for what felt like an eternity. The pulse of it was relentless, a heavy, wet, insistent ache that sat right behind your clit and radiated outward in hot waves. The little pearl had long since swollen past its hood, shiny and flushed a deep, angry pink, peeking out fully as if begging for attention it wasn’t going to get. It twitched visibly with every beat of your heart, so sensitive that even the air against it felt like too much. Your pussy was so messy it was obscene. Thick, shiny trails of slick coated the insides of your thighs from the crease of your hips all the way down to your ass, pooling beneath you on the sheets in a dark, spreading stain. Every time Shikamaru bottomed out, more of it gushed out around his cock in wet, filthy pulses—loud, slick sounds that filled the quiet room, the kind of wet noise that made heat crawl up your neck even through the haze of desperation. Your entrance was swollen and puffy, the outer lips shiny and parted around the thick stretch of him, inner walls clinging greedily every time he moved.

He had been fucking you for what felt like hours.

His thick cock bullied your cervix with every deep, measured thrust. The blunt, heavy head kissed that sensitive ring of muscle at the end of you, pressing just hard enough to make your stomach flutter with a mix of pressure and sharp pleasure, then dragged back across your sweet spot on the way out with slow, deliberate friction. Slow. Deliberate. The kind of pace that never quite let you fall, only kept you suspended right at the edge, your orgasm coiling tighter and tighter without ever snapping. His dark eyes stayed locked on yours the entire time, half-lidded and calm, like he was watching something mildly interesting rather than the way your body kept trying to break apart underneath him—the way your stomach tensed, the way your thighs shook, the way your cunt fluttered and clenched around every inch of him.

“Shhh,” he murmured, voice low and almost gentle whenever you tried to buck your hips up to meet him. The sound was pure faux sympathy, soft and cooing, the kind of tone that made the denial feel even more deliberate. “I know sweet girl. You’re so desperate, aren’t you? Look at you.” His thumbs stroked the soft, trembling insides of your knees almost soothingly even as he kept you pinned wide open, the pressure of his grip never easing. “Trying so hard to fuck yourself on my cock. So cute. Your little cunt’s already dripping down to the sheets and you still can’t stop chasing it even though it’ll get you nowhere.”

You whimpered. The sound came out broken, wet, half-swallowed. Your cunt clenched hard around him in response, greedy and fluttering, the inner walls spasming in tight, rhythmic pulses that milked another thick rush of slick out around his shaft. For a second the pleasure spiked so high your vision blurred at the edges, white sparks dancing behind your eyes. You were right there—right fucking there—orgasm coiling tight and mean in your belly, your clit throbbing so hard it felt like it might burst, your entrance trying to lock down around the thick base of him.

Shikamaru felt it the second it started.

He pulled out in one smooth, deliberate motion.

The sudden emptiness punched a sob out of you. Your cunt clenched around nothing, the empty walls fluttering wildly, another heavy gush of slick spilling out onto the already-soaked sheets. Before you could even process the loss, his hand came down. Three sharp, wet spanks landed directly on your dripping cunt in quick succession. The first one cracked across your swollen outer folds with a loud, wet slap, sending a bright sting radiating through the oversensitive tissue. The second caught your exposed clit dead-on, the impact sharp and precise, making the swollen pearl jump and throb under the force. The third smeared your own slick higher up your mound, fingers dragging through the mess as the spank landed. Each impact sent white-hot sparks racing up your spine and down into your empty cunt. Your hips jerked helplessly against nothing, thighs straining hard in his grip. Tears pricked hot at the corners of your eyes.

“Ah-ah,” he cooed, louder now, almost pleased, watching the way your pussy kept twitching and leaking under his palm. “None of that baby. You don’t get to come just because you’re leaking all over my sheets.” His fingers stayed pressed against your pussy for a long moment, feeling how soaked you were, how your entrance kept twitching and trying to suck something—anything—back inside. He rubbed two fingers slowly through the mess, spreading the slick, feeling the way your swollen folds parted for him. Slick stretched between his fingers in sticky, shiny strands when he finally lifted his hand. Only when it clung to his skin in thick, glistening threads did he line himself up again and push back in.

The stretch was almost too much after the brief emptiness. His cock filled you in one long, relentless glide, the thick shaft forcing your walls open inch by inch until his hips were flush against yours again and the blunt head of him was kissing your cervix once more. You sobbed. Your walls fluttered and clenched around the thick intrusion like they were trying to milk him, trying to force the orgasm he kept denying you, the inner muscles spasming in continuous, helpless little contractions that only made the wet sounds louder.

“There we go sweetheart, there we go,” Shikamaru murmured, voice still that same soft, condescending croon. He started moving again—slow, deep, punishingly thorough. Every thrust dragged the full length of his cock against the same oversensitive places, the head bullying your cervix, the shaft grinding over your sweet spot with wet, deliberate friction. Every retreat left you empty just long enough to make the next thrust feel like too much, the stretch borderline overwhelming. “So good for me when you’re like this. All fucked-out and shaking. You can barely even think, can you? Just this messy little cunt clenching around my cock and those pretty tears in your eyes.”

You couldn’t. Thought had narrowed down to the burn in your thighs, the wet slap of his cock moving through the mess he’d made of you, and the constant, cruel tease of almost-release. Your clit pulsed in time with your heartbeat, so swollen it hurt, the hood completely pulled back, the pearl shiny and desperate every time the base of him ground against it. Every time that happened on a particularly deep thrust, your whole body jerked, a broken sound tearing out of your throat.

He felt the next spike coming before you did.

Out again.

Spank. Spank. Spank.

The third one landed harder this time, right over your clit, the wet crack loud in the quiet room. The sound that tore out of you was half-sob, half-scream. Tears slipped free, sliding hot down your temples into your hair. Your cunt clenched around nothing, gushing another thick rush of slick that painted his fingers shiny and ran down over your ass. Your thighs jerked hard in his grip, the stretch burning hotter with every desperate movement.

“Poor little baby,” he cooed, almost sweetly, watching your face with those dark, calm eyes. “You’re right there, aren’t you? Hurts, doesn’t it? Being this close for so long. That little clit all swollen and neglected while your cunt keeps trying to come on nothing.” He waited until your slick was clinging to his hand in long, sticky strands again before guiding his cock back to your entrance. He didn’t thrust this time—just pressed the blunt head against your swollen, dripping hole and let you feel the stretch as he sank in slow, slow, slow. The head popped past your entrance with a wet sound, then the thick shaft followed, forcing your walls open until he was buried to the hilt and kissing your cervix once more. “But you’re going to take it. You’re going to stay open for me and keep clenching around my cock like the messy little slut you are until I decide you’ve earned it.”

Your answer was another broken whimper. Your walls fluttered around him in continuous, helpless little contractions, like your body was trying to force the orgasm out of pure desperation. The stretch of him against your cervix on every thrust had gone from intense to almost painful in the best way—a deep, heavy pressure that made your stomach flutter and your toes curl. Your thighs trembled hard in his grip. The burn in your hips had become a deep, constant fire, muscles locked and shaking, joints aching from being held open for so long.

He didn’t stop.

Shikamaru kept that same slow, devastating rhythm, hips rolling so every inch of his thick cock dragged against the places that made your vision white out. Your folded thighs trembled harder in his grip. The burn had gone past aching into something almost feverish—muscles locked, joints screaming, yet you couldn’t close your legs even if you tried. He held you open like it was nothing, like the strain of keeping you folded for this long was just another minor inconvenience he was too lazy to complain about. Slick continued to gush out around him with every thrust, running in warm, thick rivulets down your ass and soaking the sheets further. The wet sounds were filthy, constant—the slap of his hips against yours, the wet suck of your cunt around his cock, the soft, broken noises you couldn’t stop making.

Your cunt kept clenching around him in tight, rhythmic pulses. Every flutter milked another thick bead of slick out around his shaft. It ran down in warm rivulets, soaking the sheets beneath your ass, making the wet sounds of his thrusts even filthier. Your clit throbbed so hard it felt swollen beyond what should be possible, the little pearl fully out from under its hood, shiny and desperate every time the base of his cock ground against it. The contact was electric, too much and not enough all at once, sending sharp sparks of pleasure-pain up your spine.

“Look at that,” he murmured, dark eyes never leaving yours. His voice stayed soft, almost fond, the way someone might speak to a pet that was being particularly pathetic. “Still trying to come. Even after all this time. You’re shaking so hard I can feel it through my hands.” He gave your thighs a light squeeze, thumbs pressing into the trembling, overstretched muscle, feeling the way it jumped under his touch. “Does it hurt, baby? Being this close and not getting to fall? That pretty little cunt of yours is so swollen and messy for me. I can feel every single time it tries to lock down.”

You nodded frantically, a broken sound catching in your throat. Words wouldn’t form. Your hips tried to jerk up to meet him again—small, abortive little movements that only made the stretch in your folded position worse, the burn flaring hotter as your body fought the position he kept you in.

Shikamaru felt the next spike the second it started.

He pulled out.

The emptiness was brutal. Your cunt clenched around nothing, fluttering wildly, another rush of slick spilling out onto the sheets in a thick, shiny pulse. Before the sob fully left your mouth his hand was already coming down.

Spank.

Spank.

Spank.

Three sharp, wet cracks right across your dripping folds. The third one landed dead on your exposed clit and your whole body arched as much as the position allowed, a raw, desperate sound tearing out of you. Tears spilled freely now. Your thighs jerked hard in his grip. The sound that tore out of you was raw, desperate, almost animal. Your pussy kept twitching and leaking under his palm, the swollen folds shiny and red from the repeated spanks, your entrance gaping slightly and trying to suck at nothing.

“Shhh,” he cooed, louder, watching the way your pussy kept twitching and leaking under his palm. Slick clung to his fingers in shiny strands when he finally lifted his hand. Only then did he notch the head of his cock against your entrance again and sink back in with one long, relentless thrust that forced the air from your lungs. The stretch was immediate and overwhelming, his thick cock forcing your walls open until he was buried deep and the head was pressing hard against your cervix.

“There. Does that feel better sweet baby?” His voice stayed that same gentle, condescending murmur even as he started moving again—deep, slow, punishing. Every thrust kissed your cervix. Every withdrawal dragged along that swollen sweet spot until your eyes rolled. “You’re doing so well. Taking it for so long. I know it hurts. I know your little cunt is aching to come. But you’re going to keep clenching around me just like this until I say otherwise.”

You were past coherent thought. The only things left were the burn in your hips, the constant heavy throb between your legs, and the cruel cycle of almost-release. Your walls never stopped fluttering around his cock, greedy and desperate, trying to pull him deeper, trying to force the orgasm he kept snatching away. Slick continued to pour out of you, coating his shaft, his balls, the insides of your thighs, running down to soak the sheets in a growing wet stain.

He edged you through another near-peak.

Then another.

Each time the same: the slow drag of his thick cock, the building pressure, the moment your body started to tip—and then the sudden emptiness, the sharp wet spanks across your soaked, oversensitive pussy, the soft cooing praises while you sobbed, and only when your slick was coating his hand again would he push back inside and start the whole merciless process over. Your clit pulsed visibly now, so swollen and neglected it hurt to look at, the little pearl shiny and red, twitching with every heartbeat. Every accidental brush of his pelvis against it sent lightning up your spine. Your thighs shook so hard the muscles in them jumped under his palms. Tears and sweat mixed on your skin. Your cunt was a mess of its own making—gushing, clenching, dripping down to your ass with every thrust, the entrance swollen and shiny and constantly trying to lock around him.

Shikamaru leaned in a little closer, dark eyes still locked on yours, expression calm and faintly amused.

“You’re close again,” he observed softly, almost conversational, even as your walls started that rapid, desperate fluttering around him. “I can feel it. That pretty little cunt of yours is trying so hard. Clenching and leaking and begging without a single word.” He didn’t pull out yet. He just slowed even further, grinding the head of his cock against your cervix in tiny, deliberate circles that made fresh tears spill and your stomach flutter with the heavy, almost-painful pressure. “Beg properly this time and maybe I’ll think about letting you come. Or maybe I’ll just keep you like this a little longer. You’re already such a mess for me… what’s a few more minutes?”

Your answer came out broken and wet, half-sob, half-plea, hips twitching uselessly against the burn of the position while your cunt kept clenching around him like it never wanted to let go—walls fluttering, slick gushing, clit throbbing, the entire oversensitive mess of you suspended right at the edge of something that still refused to break.

[catmask]

trainersona and gymleadersona pieces im too scared to finish (idfk where to draw ceruledge in the second piece)

[radioactive-earthshine]

20 Low effort meaningful comments to leave on fics when you can’t think of anything to say that most authors love and appreciate (and you will too).

1.) Thank you for writing this!

2.) This really helped distract me from the horrors of reality, thank you for writing it!

3.) I really really really loved this.

4.) <3

5.) Literal keyboard mash q3kjt2uh0erjiurjfnejkrgnkejoiiueirnf!!!!

6.) My favorite part was when they ____.

7.) I laughed at ____.

8.) How dare you! /affectionate.

9.) I am very excited to read this story in its entirety!

10.) I really enjoyed the first __ chapters, I cannot wait for more!

11.) This gave me everything I was hoping for!

12.) 10/10 fic, thanks for writing!

13.) I am going to be thinking about this fic for a long time, thank you for writing!

14.) This made me feel a lot of emotions and I cannot describe them, so thank you for that. I really enjoyed this.

15.) This was the best ride I haven taken in a long time, wow! Thank you for writing this.

16.) If I had the ability to bind this as a real book I would, I loved it so much.

17.) I'm not good with words but I just loved this so much.

18.) This is complete perfection.

19.) I am in awe of how you described ____.

20.) This means so much to me that you wrote this. Thank you.

The more you comment, the better you will get at it and the more enjoyment and fulfillment you will received out of saying thank you.

[fi1iat3rra3]

Do you take fic requests….? Because if you do…. -slides over a request for possessive breeding kink age gap Chris redfield.-

Please and ty….

a/n; MMMM, this is so good 🤤 I'm ALWAYS open to requests!! Never shy away! And this is one I've had on my mind anyways, so PERFECT timing :3 I do hope this is to your liking! If not, I'm always open to critiques! Thanks for the request 🫶🏻🫶🏻

sum; Chris' jealousy gets the best of him, leading to his favorite outcome of sweat, arousal, and noises from you that only he could elicit.

content; age gap (chris is 40, reader is late 20s ish), jealousy, possessiveness, breeding kink, size kink, creampies, unprotected sex, edging

wc; 2.1k

Chris was full of pride. He was the embodiment of that sin. He refused to admit that. He'd claim jealousy was a thing he had never experienced. He'd claim he wasn't a jealous man, that he was secure and calm. He was secure, yes, but he was jealous. He just hated thinking of it like that. You were his, so why was he having to sit here and fuck it into you that other guys at the bar shouldn't be touching you?

He already had you squealing. Only the second round—for him, that is—and you were already crying. He'd cum twice, cock still rock hard, and you hadn't cum once. His cock bullied the tip deep against your cervix, angry and constantly leaky, a small bulge visible in your lower belly.

"Ch—chris—unngh!!" You cried, back arching at the feeling of his cock piercing deeper into you as he forced your knees to touch your chest, a guttural growl leaving his lips.

"Piece of shit was damn near dry humping you, and he had not an ounce of shame. Fucking b-bastard. Should've punched him." Chris grumbled, his frustration bubbling in his chest as his hands dug into the back of your thighs. You choked on your own moans, eyes rolling back.

Chris heaved, but as soon as you tried to grab him and he felt your pussy clamp down, he pulled out, leaving you empty and gaping, a garbled sob of frustration leaving your throat.

"No. Not until I've made it clear you're mine. 'm gonna make it so you'll be dripping for fucking days." He snapped. Not anger, never, but his jealousy and possessiveness getting the better of him. "Don't act like you're not having fun. I can feel you every time I put another load into you. You're like a dog for it—constantly begging for more." He leaned down, fingers coming between your thighs so he could scoop up his cum and push it back into your pussy, causing a small whimper from you, your walls clamping around his fingers.

"Please—God," your body melted as he kept you plugged momentarily with his fingers, lazily curling them just to tease you and give you a glimpse of what you could have.

"Not God. Say my name." Chris huffed, fingers curling deliciously, tearing it right from your throat.

"Fuck, Chris!" Your eyes rolled back, and for a moment, you thought he'd give mercy, he'd let you cum.

No.

He pulled his fingers out and lined himself back up, but instead of bottoming out, mean and rough with his thick cock stretching you out, he slipped only the tip inside of you. You sniffled, looking up at him as he took one hand and started stroking himself to work himself back up to a peak. You whined, hips trying to shuffle up to his for more.

"Stay still." He said, a small hiss leaving his gritted teeth as he gave slow, shallow thrusts that were barely there, nowhere near enough to get you off as you watched him mix the shallow, barely there thrusts with his own hand stroking the rest of his length.

"'M sorryyyy," you whined, back arching. "Just lemme cum. Please, I'll be good! I need it—Chris!" You twitched, eyes rolling as his other hand came back down, thumbing roughly at your puffy, abused clit.

"You'll cum how I want. When I want." He huffed. "Since you're so okay with letting pervs hit on you, you need a reminder." He grumbled. God, he really was such a jealous asshole. He'd make up for it later, you both knew. This was rare for him, and with how cautious he normally was during sex, you took it more than willingly, even when he wasn't letting you cum.

Chris doubled the speed of his thumb circling your clit, his cock hardly moving, barely deep enough to reach and drag the bulbous tip along your g-spot. You cried, back arching. Your orgasm built, slow and bubbling in your lower belly like a pot ready to boil over. "Please—pleasepleaseplease!"

Chris didn't stop you this time. A collection of sobs and gasps mixed together as the coil snapped, finally rewarding you with a deep thrust of his cock, burying himself to the hilt and letting himself go as well, cum spilling with thick, long spurts that you felt right against your cervix. He didn't stop his finger on your clit, pressing forward to kiss and bite at your neck and collarbone. After a minute or two, your body jolted, smacking at his chest and arms desperately for a break. He pulled his hand away, cock pulling out slowly before he brought two fingers to scoop up the mess once more, bringing his sticky fingers to your lips.

Your lips parted, accepting his silent push for you to clean the mess you two had made. "Mmh," you whined faintly, watching as he slotted himself between your thighs again. You realized, much against your body's need for a break, Chris wasn't done.

"Still gotta get it through to you, pretty girl. You know what I'm proving?" He withdrew his fingers, bringing both hands back down to lift your thighs up to your chest, your thighs burning with the position.

You shook your head. Chris waited. "No.." you barely muttered, almost like you were embarrassed that he'd fucked his original idea right out of you.

"I'm gonna make sure you know nobody could fuck you like I do. Especially not those pervs your age who think they know how to pick up a date." Chris explained, steady and firm as he leaned down to kiss you, tongue slipping lazily past your lips to get a taste of the mess you'd cleaned from his fingers. With you distracted by the kiss, he took that and lined himself up, pressing his cock forward. You whimpered, core squeezing around him almost immediately as he bottomed out roughly. He looked down, biting at his lip.

In your lower belly, he could see a faint bulge. He had to point it out every time, just to remind you how big he was. God, he was huge. In many ways. He worked out, and he'd been doing so for most of his life, and he tried his best to take care of the muscle. He was tall, too. He towered over almost everyone, often even engulfing many people if he were hugging someone.

You looked down with him, only to drop your head back and roll your eyes. "Chris, please." You sniffled. He lifted his head, easing his hips back.

"Relax. No more rejections. You can cum all you want and more, pretty girl." He mused, leaning down to nip at your neck. He started without hesitation—almost immediately finding a mean, fast pace that elicited a squeal from you, back arching eagerly. Your walls clamped, and he hissed, fingertips digging into the back of your thighs.

Chris, despite having finished twice already, was hard like he had been the one who was denied three times. He was relentless, rough, like an animal. "Fuck, you're still so tight." He almost growled, nose scrunched like he was trying desperately to focus on not busting so soon.

Your hands came to grasp at his biceps, nails digging into the tense muscles. "Oh, my god!" You mewled, eyes rolling into the back of your head as your pussy fluttered around his girth, making his cock twitch. He bottomed out, halting for a moment as he brought one hand to grasp at your cheeks, squishing them together. "Chris?" You whined, slightly slurred.

"Tell me who makes you feel good." He demanded. His hand wasn't rough, nor threatening. Just a tight enough hold to make sure you can't look away from him as he starts moving his hips again, pumping his cock back and forth.

"Fuck! Mmh—'s you, Chris! You!"

"And?"

"Only you! Ahh!" You squealed, unable to warn as you clamped around his cock, gushing around his thick girth. He hissed, pushing himself to hold a steady pace, even as he felt his balls draw tight to his body.

"That's right. Me. I'm the—fuck—only one. Only one who gets to touch you. To flirt with you. To push you onto the bed and slam my cock into you." His teeth gritted, hand leaving your cheeks as it came to the pillow beside your head, a grasp that would've been bruising. Chris looked down, and the sight of your own fluids making a white, creamy ring around his cock pushed him just perfectly over the edge. He slammed into you, cock snug against your cervix as he pumped his cum into you, pleasure getting the best of him as he let out a choked whine and an actual moan, rather than his usual grunts and groans.

"Oh, my god." You sobbed, a small hiccup leaving your throat. Your nails dragged along his biceps and shoulders, hips jolting with aftershocks of overwhelming pleasure. Much to your shock, he didn't soften either. Usually, if he lasted multiple rounds, he'd only last three, if he was lucky. His cock often needed a break at that point.

Not tonight. He pulled out slowly, flipping you onto your stomach like you weighed nothing to him. You whimpered, face burying into the pillow. "Gonna fill you up 'til I'm content. 'Til I'm sure I've left my mark." He panted, mouthing sloppily at your neck and back as he slipped back into you. You gasped, feeling so much fuller. With him straddling your thighs, keeping them shut, and keeping you pinned face down, something about the position made it harder for your body to steadily accommodate his girth.

You couldn't properly form full sentences at this point. Your moans muffled in the pillows as he immediately found that brutal pace. He had to be almost done, right? You hoped. Because as he fucked into you, your walls felt raw, overused, yet you couldn't say no to it with how good it felt. Chris was losing it rather quickly. He slid in and out so easily, his cum spilling from your hole with the most nasty, lewd squelching accompanied by the 'plap! plap! plap!' of his balls slapping against your puffy, soaked pussy.

His face nuzzled against your neck, finding its place to press his nose to your pulse point with his lips pressing sloppily along the curve of your neck, only to bite down. You squealed, nails clawing at the sheets in a desperate attempt to find some semblance of support to grasp onto something.

"Fuck. 'M gonna cum, pretty," he hissed. You didn't know whether to be shocked or thankful. He usually didn't reach a peak so damn fast. You whimpered, hips lazily trying to fuck back against his cock, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your vision blurred and your hearing became fuzzy.

You weren't too far behind, and as Chris reached his own peak, you followed, a scream ripping from your chest and being muffled into the pillow as he fucked you through your orgasm, his own cum spilling out of you from the pressure and amount of it. By the time he came to a halt, he collapsed on top of you, arms wrapping tight around your waist as one palm came to feel your lower belly, where he was nestled deep, snug inside your used cunt.

He could hear you crying into the pillow. He shushed you, lips peppering along your neck and finding their way to your jawline and cheek. "Look at me, pretty girl." He murmured. It took a moment of coaxing, but you did. You turned back to him, sniffling.

"'M sorry, Chris." You babbled quietly.

"Oh, my beautiful girl." He cooed, leaning in to kiss your lips. "You did so good for me. Took me so well." He purred. "I'm sorry I got so mean, but I had to prove a point." He feigned pity. Of course, he felt bad. But not bad to the point where he felt bad about spilling his cum into you for multiple rounds and fucking you raw.

"'M so tired." Your head dropped to the pillow, eyes fluttering shut.

"Sleep. I'll get us cleaned up, gorgeous." He purred against your pulse point, slowly pulling out as he lifted you with him, getting out of bed. You were in and out of consciousness as he cleaned everything up—he started with wiping you down and ensuring you were all clean. He figured the proper shower could wait. He set you in the desk chair beside the bed to get you dressed, followed by changing the sheets and cleaning the surrounding mess.

Once everything, including himself, was cleaned up, he lifted you from the chair and found his way to the bed, curling himself around you. He snuggled close under the blankets, letting you get comfortable in your half-asleep state.

[chibi-tokki]

dragonlord!katsuki soaked in blood and gore, furious and raging, as he lands his dragon within the city walls. townsfolk scream and flee, cowering away from the beast as it roars its warning, katsuki’s voice bellowing through the streets, demanding answers. his dragonsteel blade cuts through the soldiers as if they were made of air, blood splatters and seeps into the earth, leaving decimation in his wake but he does not care. he is here for one thing, and one thing only.

his dragon shrieks into the air, the bonds between that and his rider thrumming through both their veins. katsuki pushes forward, shield long gone as he continues his quest. it is a small city, nothing like that of his own, and he soon finds himself at the steps of the church, bells tolling in warning.

"you know what ive come for." the dragon lord annouces, voice even and commanding. "give it to me and i will be no more trouble"

there is silence for a moment before the creak of the sturdy wooden doors open. a child is pushed out, no older than ten, shaking and crying as the drop to their knees, hands raised high.

"please, my lord, i...we do not...." the boy stutters, tears falling as he turns back to the church. "i forgot what to say, please let me back in. please" he begins to slam his fists against the wood, but it does not budge.

katsuki scoffs, sheathing his sword, hands braced on the pommel as he stares at the shaking child before him. "you, the great lords of whitemoon have sent out a child to bargain with me?" he turns to boy. "where do you live?"

the boy turns back, eyes wide and teeth chattering. "just out of town, my lord. please, i am sorry i did not want-"

a rasie of katsuki's hand has the boy quieting. "go home, little one. this is not your fight." he dismisses him with a wave of his hand, "i have come for your cunt of a king who thinks he can take what's mine." katsuki bellows, blood spiking with rage once more.

below him, the ground shakes as his dragon lands on the roof above, the stone clattering beneath the great weight.

"you have three seconds to come out and face me, or I burn everything down." he pauses, waits to hear for a sign of movement. "you, your wives, your whores, your children, all ashes in the wind, if you do not tell me where she is!"

rage gets the better of him as the thought of what's his being taken fills his mind once again. the great sword is in his hand, ready to be swung the second the swine walking upright exits from behind the doors.

one. there is clattering and shouting from within

two. the squeak of old hinges being used announces an exit.

three. the face of a fat, bald priest stands before him.

red-faced and bloated, the man stutters his apologies. "your Grace, we do not know what you are talking about-

katsuki stalks towards the man, gait heavy and intimidating as his boots crunch in the grave.

"please, my lord, we do not know of anything-"

a blade is pressed to the throat of the priest.

"you're a terrible fucking liar." katsuki seethes, steel pressing harder against flesh, the tiniest bead of blood pooling on the silver. "tell me the truth."

the priest whimpers. "my lord, I do not-"

slash.

the body drops before bakugou's feet, clean and efficient. the dragon lord clenches his jaw, threadbare patience gone in an instant.

"i gave you a chance", he declares, voice clear and loud. "this could have been simple, but you chose to make it difficult."

katsuki takes a breath in, pinching the bridge of his nose as if to steady himself.

"once more. where is she?" a whimper from within the church. "where is my wife?"

no response. no shouts. no pleas. silence.

katsuki turns to his dragon, who is waiting for his next commands, the blood bond singing.

he should be better. should show them mercy. you would. you have.

but you are not here.

and so katsuki gives the command.

"kill them"

a/n: is it giving daemon targaryen? i feel like it is, idk how to write dragonlord katsuki so im just playing around hehe

[galaxychaos78]

i keep having dreams where i'm like best friends with nat and alex wolff from the naked brothers band and its starting to frighten me

[quikyu]

Know the difference

[mydiluc]

your knight kneeling before you where you sit at the edge of your bed, in servitude and reverence despite the fact he just got done with rigorous training — your delicate nightgown pushed up your thighs and your fingers carded through his sweaty hair while he eats you out. his large, filthy hands leaving behind streaks of dirt on the silks of your clothing from how hard he’s clutching you so his heavy tongue can move deeper

[maxxie-or-smth]

everything is getting worse and thats why it's SO so important that we have fun and hang out and play and im being serious im being unimaginable amounts of serious

[galaxychaos78]

in love with the idea of nerd! Piers Nivans having a crush on chubby popular!fem reader in his college classes. trying so hard to be good and not sneak peeks at your ass in your skirts when you walk past him on the quad. keeping his focus on his notes instead of the bounce of your tits whenever you sit a row below him in class.

i'm disgusting, he thinks as he fists his cock when he should be studying for the upcoming final.

i'm a pervert, he muses as he sprays one of his shirts with the cherry blossom perfume he figured out you wore when he caught a peek of the label from when you pulled it out before class.

he keeps his crush low profile, even though every part of him wants to grip at the fat of your hips when you wear shorts

but little does he know is that you've been crushing on him too. how could you not? the cute nerdy guy in your history class who has color coded notes and always raises his hand to answer the questions and always gets 100 on the tests. your friends think your insane; you could have any man you wanted and you wanted Piers?

but none of them noticed the bulging of muscles under his flannel whenever he wrote something in his notebook. none of them noticed the side eye he'd give the jocks whenever they make lewd comments about you or the way his fingers flex around his pencil.

wonder how they'd look around your throat-stop it (y/n).

its a harmless crush, you tell yourself as you press your thighs together when Piers correctly answers a question so effortlessly.

it'll go away, you confidently tell yourself as the sound of your fingers slick between your folds echo through your small dorm, burying your face into your pillows as Piers's face flashes through your mind. you're both so confident that the crush will go away.

[6x-x9]

“𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐢𝐬 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐞, 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐞” 𔘓 𝓖.𝑺𝑨𝑻𝑶𝑹𝑼

∙ 𝟏𝟖+ 𝒎𝒅𝒏𝒊 · You boyfriend 𝚂𝙰𝚃𝙾𝚁𝚄 is a menace in the mornings.

· 𝓒𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 · ꒰ 𝒎𝒂𝒍𝒆!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 ⋮ fluff ⋮ 𝙼𝙻𝙼 ⋮ domestic satoru ⋮ 𝒐𝒓𝒂𝒍 reader! rec. ⋮ kissing ⋮ cum in mouth ꒱

𝒲𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 · 𝟐.𝟒𝐤 · ꒰ 𝒓𝒆𝒖𝒑𝒍𝒐𝒂𝒅 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 : @!torusbabe ꒱ · 𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒃𝒚 : @!mossmaybe1 on X ·

Satoru’s long limbs are tangled around you like he is afraid you will vanish if he lets go. His white hair is a soft, messy halo against the pillow, tickling your collarbone as he nuzzles closer in his sleep. You press a gentle kiss to his forehead, right between those unfairly long lashes, and feel the way his breath hitches, even unconscious. He is warm, solid and annoyingly perfect.

You slip out from under him carefully, because if he wakes up fully he will drag you right back under the covers with that lazy grin and those wandering hands. The sheets pool around your waist as you sit up, and you glance back once. Satoru sprawls on his stomach now, face half-buried, one arm thrown out like he is still reaching for you.

The bathroom mirror shows you looking thoroughly wrecked in the best way: kiss-bruised lips, faint marks on your neck, hair standing up in every direction. You brush your teeth with his stupid mint toothpaste that tastes like candy, smiling around the toothbrush because yeah, this is your life now.

It started as nothing. A late night, pulsing bass in some dark club downtown, bodies pressed too close under neon lights. You locked eyes across the crowd, those piercing blue ones that cut straight through the haze, and next thing you knew his mouth was on yours in the hallway, then in the cab, then against his apartment door.

He was the most beautiful man you had ever seen up close. Tall, lean, all sharp angles and effortless charm, white hair glowing under the club lights like he belonged somewhere ethereal, not grinding against you in a sweaty back room. You expected one night, rough, fast to be gone by morning.

But he pulled you into his bed like you were something precious, fucked you slow and deep until you were shaking, whispering filthy praise against your ear the whole time. And when it was over he didn’t kick you out. He just curled around you like a cat, murmured something sleepy and sweet, and passed out with his face in your neck.

One night became weekends. Weekends became stay over's. Stay over’s became you leaving a spare toothbrush, became him whining when you tried to leave for work. Became this, mornings where you wake up to him clinging like you are his personal teddy bear.

You rinse, pad back to the bedroom in just your briefs. Satoru is stirring now, blinking those ridiculous crystalline blue eyes open, voice rough with sleep.

“Mm, where you goin?”

“Breakfast,” you murmur, leaning down to kiss the corner of his mouth. “Go back to sleep, menace.”

He hums, already reaching, but you dodge and head for the kitchen instead.

The apartment smells faintly of last night’s takeout and his cologne. You start the coffee maker out of habit even though you know he will ignore it. He has the palate of a literal child, lives on sugar and spite. Bacon sizzles in the pan, eggs scrambling soft the way he pretends he doesn’t care about but always eats faster when you make them like this.

You are shirtless, barefoot, just briefs riding low on your hips. A little softer around the middle than him, a little rounder, but he never makes you feel anything but wanted. If anything he seems obsessed with it, hands always finding the curve of your stomach, squeezing like he cannot get enough.

The bedroom door creaks. His footsteps. Then arms slide around your waist from behind, chin hooking over your shoulder. He is still sleepy-warm, chest bare against your back, morning wood shamelessly pressing into you through his boxers.

“Whatcha makin,” he mumbles, voice all gravel and affection, lips brushing your neck.

“Bacon with eggs. The usual, since you’re a spoiled brat who likes being fed.”

He chuckles low, the sound vibrating through you. “You love spoiling me.”

You smile, “Shut up.”

His big hands splay over your chest, thumbs circling lazy over your nipples just to make you twitch. Then lower, tracing the soft dip of your stomach, possessive and gentle all at once. You can feel how hard he is, thick and insistent against your ass, and it takes effort not to grind back.

“Satoru,” you warn, voice already thinner. “Do not. Last time breakfast burned to hell and we didn’t eat till noon.”

He grins against your skin, teeth grazing gently. “Didn’t hear you complainin’ when I had you bent over the counter.”

He follows it up with facts,“You smiled like the devil while the smoke alarm screamed.”

“Yeah, yeah, not letting that happen again.”

He gives you one last teasing squeeze and finally lets go, stepping back to grab orange juice from the fridge like nothing happened. You roll your eyes and plate the food, golden bacon, fluffy eggs, toast on the side even though he’ll pick at it.

Dining table? Forgotten, as always.

You both end up on the living room couch instead, legs crossed, thighs pressed together. He scrolls through his phone with one hand, the other resting warm on your bare knee, thumb stroking absently. You eat side by side, shoulders bumping, quiet except for the occasional hum he makes when something tastes good.

He steals a strip of bacon from your plate. You elbow him. He laughs, bright and stupid and yours.

The dining table sits there in the corner like some forgotten piece of furniture someone else bought. You are pretty sure neither of you has ever actually eaten at it, not once. Not breakfast, not takeout, not even that one time you tried to be normal and set out plates like adults. It lasted maybe thirty seconds before Satoru tugged you onto the couch instead, whining about how the table felt too far away, how he couldn’t reach you properly.

So yeah on the couch. Always the couch.

Legs crossed, thighs slotted together like puzzle pieces, bare skin sticking slightly from the warmth of sleep and the kitchen heat still clinging to you both. Your plate balances on one knee, his on the other. Shoulders pressed, elbows knocking every time one of you reaches for more toast. It is messy but comfortable with him always.

He is scrolling through his phone again, probably looking at the same three memes he has already sent you six times this week, but his free hand never leaves your leg. Palm flat against your bare knee, thumb dragging slow, absent circles over the skin there. Every few seconds the motion changes: he squeezes once, gentle, like he is reminding himself you’re real. Then back to stroking. You don’t even think he realizes he’s doing it anymore.

You take a bite of the eggs. He immediately leans in and steals the next strip of bacon right off your plate with his teeth, grinning around it like a feral cat.

“Thief,” you mutter, elbowing him in the ribs.

He laughs, bright, loud and stupidly happy, and the sound bounces off the living room walls. Then he turns his head and presses greasy lips to the side of your neck, right under your ear. Bacon fat smears. You feel the warm slide of it and groan.

“Satoru. Gross.”

“Mmm. Tastes better like this,” he mumbles against your skin, kissing again, deliberately sloppy this time. His lips drag, leaving a shiny trail. You shove at his shoulder but there’s  no real force behind it.

“You’re being disgusting.”

“You love it.” He tuts back smugly.

You do. That is the worst part.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, blue eyes crinkled at the corners, mouth still shiny. Then he goes right back to his phone like he did not just mark you up with breakfast grease. His hand slides a little higher on your thigh now, fingers splayed, possessive in that casual way only he can manage. You don’t move away. You never do.

The quiet stretches again, easy. Just chewing, the soft clink of forks, his occasional pleased hum when he gets a particularly crispy piece of bacon. Every now and then he leans over to bump his forehead against your temple, or drops a lazy kiss to your shoulder, or just breathes against your neck like he is trying to memorize the way you smell in the morning.

You think about how ridiculous this is. How you went from a one-night stand, sweaty and frantic, clothes barely off, to this: half-naked on his couch at 9 a.m., eating eggs while he absentmindedly gropes your leg and leaves bacon kisses on your skin like it’s normal. Like it has always been this way.

The dining table stays empty. Untouched. Probably collecting dust.

It doesn't matter.

Because mornings like this, greasy, annoying and stupidly domestic, are worth every single burnt breakfast that came before. Worth the way he steals your food and laughs like an idiot and holds onto you like you might disappear if he lets go for even a second.

You finish your eggs. He’s still eating slowly, savoring it, his thumb still stroking your knee.

You lean your head on his shoulder.

He turns just enough to kiss your temple, clean this time, no grease.

“Love you,” he mumbles, so quiet you almost miss it. Like it slipped out by accident.

You don’t say it back right away. Just squeeze his thigh once, hard.

He smiles against your hair anyway.

Yeah.

You are both so far gone it is not even funny anymore.

You’re already running late, alarm ignored twice, coffee half-drunk on the counter, phone buzzing with that one work email you've been pretending doesn't exist. You’re standing in the bedroom trying to pull on your work pants, one leg in, hopping slightly, when Satoru decides the morning is not over yet.

He’s still in nothing but those low-slung gray boxers, hair a disaster, eyes bright and mischievous like he’s planned this ambush. You barely get the waistband over your hips before his long fingers hook into them and tug them right back down, sliding your boxers along with them until your cock springs free, already leaking at the tip from the way he has been touching you all morning.

“Satoru, I have to—”

“Shh.” He’s already dropping to his knees in front of you, hands sliding up the backs of your thighs, warm and sure. “Five minutes.”

“You said that twenty minutes ago.”

He just grins up at you, that devastating, lazy smile that always wins. “Yeah, but this time I mean it.”

You open your mouth to argue, something about deadlines, about how your boss is already side-eyeing your punctuality, but then his tongue flicks out first, slow and deliberate, lapping up the bead of pre that has gathered at your slit. He hums at the taste, eyes fluttering half-closed like it is the best thing he has ever had, before he wraps his lips around the head and sucks gently, tongue swirling.

Not teasing. Not slow. He leans in and takes you straight to the back of his throat like he’s been starving for it, lips tight, tongue flat and filthy against the underside. Your knees buckle. One hand flies to his hair on instinct, gripping white strands, the other slapping against the dresser for balance.

“Fuuck, Toru—nghh.”

He hums around you, the vibration shooting straight up your spine. His big hands knead the soft flesh of your ass, pulling you deeper, encouraging you to rock into his mouth. You try to be gentle, he isn't fragile, but you still worry sometimes, but he just moans louder when you thrust a little harder, blue eyes flicking up to meet yours, watering slightly at the corners, pupils blown wide.

He looks so fucking pretty like this. On his knees for you, your thick cock filling his greedy throat, cheeks hollowed, spit shining on his chin already, light lashes against flushed skin. The most beautiful man you have ever seen, reduced to nothing but a hungry mouth and greedy hands because he cannot stand the thought of you leaving without this first.

You're shaking. The pants around your ankles trip you up when you try to widen your stance anddd he doesn’t care. Just hooks one of your legs over his shoulder so he can get even closer, nose pressed to your pelvis, throat working around you like he wants to swallow you whole.

“God, slow down, I'm gonna—”

He pulls off just long enough to rasp, voice wrecked, “Come on my tongue. Want it.”

Then he is back on you, sucking hard, messy, one hand wrapping around the base to stroke what his mouth can’t reach. The other slips between your legs, fingers circling your hole, not pushing in, just pressing, teasing, promising more for later maybe.

Your hips jerk. Heat coils tight and fast in your gut. You are trying to warn him, trying to be coherent, but all that comes out is a broken, “Toru—mnghh fuck, m'gonna—”

He just takes you deeper, his tight throat swallowing around you. And that is it.

You come hard, pulsing down his throat, vision whiting out for a second. He doesn’t pull away, just milks every shudder, every drop, until you’re oversensitive and whining and tugging weakly at his hair.

When he finally lets you go, lips swollen and glossy, he licks them slow and sweet, like he's savoring the taste. Then he presses one last soft kiss to the head before resting his forehead against your stomach, breathing hard.

You're still catching your breath, legs trembling, when he looks up again, smug as hell.

“Now you can get dressed.”

You laugh—breathless, disbelieving. “You’re unbelievable.”

He stands, slow and graceful and crowds you against the dresser, leans in and his soft slick lips meet yours. He kisses you deep, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. His hands are gentle now, smoothing down your sides, fixing your briefs and pants back into place like nothing happened.

“Wear the blue tie,” he murmurs against your lips. “Looks good with your eyes.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re already reaching for it.

He steps back, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching you button your shirt with that soft, stupidly fond look he gets when he thinks you aren't paying attention.

You're definitely going to be late.

Worth it.

Every single time.

[character-association-game]

whos the blorbo you have the most merch of? it can be handmade or official or unofficial or ANYTHING just. merch

[galaxychaos78]

Just watched superman and supergirl and oh they were so good!

[bfbkg]

saying to bakugou to get on his knees and beg.

a little as a joke, a little as a test to see if he will actually do it. he’s been asking to eat you out but in his usual way of staring you down and then demanding you to get on the bed. when you don’t move he nudges closer to you, kisses your neck, whines about that he wants to eat you now. it’s then you decide to test him. in your living room, a random show playing on the screen. you can see the lump in his shorts and you feel the same.

“get on your knees and beg for it.”

that has him pulling off you, a quirk of his brow to test if you’re playing or not. quickly, once you cross your arms across your chest, he realises you’re not.

“hah?” but it comes out like the last breeze on a windy day. breathless yet weighty.

“you heard me.” you reply, flicking your eyes up and down your pro hero boyfriend.

you’re aware he’d do anything for you. you’re wondering if anything stretches to this.

“you’re a fuckin… you want me to…,” he trails off, sitting up off you. his lower stomach heats. his cock twitches. he’s into this unsurprisingly. “fuck, baby.”

you don’t move but you look at him expectantly. like you know he will. your confidence makes his blood heat under his skin, his heart race with speed. you jut your chin to the floor.

always a stubborn man, he has to roll his eyes before he moves. even pushes out a huffy sigh and mumbles under his breath. “this shit you have me doin’.”

but he does it. manoeuvres his muscled, wide shouldered body onto the floor. onto his knees in front of your legs. your bare thighs spread on the sofa in your shorts… your pussy is right there. he can see your folds through the fabric since they’re so tight.

he’s got a muscle tank on and you see his biceps flex when he clasps his hands together. your favourite is how all his stubbornness dissipates away and he becomes completely and utterly yours.

when he opens his mouth, the corners of your lips spread to under your eyes in a smile.

“lemme eat it, baby. please. please let me. i’ll do it so good, get you comin’ on my face, screamin’ for me. baby.” it’s all a syrupy drawl, his gold tooth catching the lamp light with every word. he even leans forward to press a kiss to the flesh of your thigh.

katsuki on your knees for you. this is what dreams are made of.

he goes in for another kiss on your thigh, closer to between your legs. you place your palm on his forehead, pushing him off.

“you’re too needy. i didn’t even answer you,” you frown, lip curled.

bakugou doesn’t know where this version of you has come from but he thinks he loves it.

“my bad, baby. you’re just so gorgeous.” he grins with half lidded eyes. he wants to touch your calves, massage them, nibble hickies into your thighs and have your touch his cock.

but most of all he wants—, “can i eat you? promise i’ll lick you clean. any position you want. miss your taste, baby. please.”

you tilt your head at him.

“please, princess. my beautiful girl. the love of my fuckin’ existence.” he’s too fucking jolly. smiling away with these sleepy yet needy ruby eyes.

you stand up. he looks better at this angle on his knees. head up to look at you. he’s like a dog ready to scent you, by stuffing his head between your legs.

“fine. i want you to undress me then i’m sitting on your face.”

[tteokdoroki]

megumi is such a fan of pussyjobs..

✩꒱ while she sleeps ft. megumi fushiguro .ᐟ

🏁 ꒰ ✩ smut ⋆ mdni ⋆ characters are adults. boyfriend!megumi fushiguro and fem!reader. established relationship, somnophilia, pussy jobs, clothed sex, free use, cum play. ꒰ gumi decides that getting you off feels best when you’re asleep and dreaming. ꒱

megumi likes them most when you’re too tired for a proper fucking. he crawls over you while you sleep and shrouds you in his shadow — wide shoulders kissed by moonlight that hide you from the eclipse — his fingers soft against your hips like the gentle twinkle of stars in the distance as he presses your knees into your shoulders.

“easy, baby girl, s’just me,” his voice is hoarse with crumbling restraint, weighed down in his throat by his insatiable greed. sweatpants have long since been rolled down and nestled under balls that twitch with a brilliant and impending load. megumi’s cock his heavy against your stomach — the head vibrant red whilst it oozes pre onto the frilly waistband of your panties.

at first — he smacks himself against your clothed core, prodding at your hole which he craves the energy to fill. for now, megumi makes it work. he finds that he adores the white cotton undergarments you wear. frilly with a delicate pink bow just under your navel. he doesn’t take them off. too fond of the decoration to his sin. he doesn’t even tuck them to the side, he slides himself through the loop of fabric at your leg and thrusts. careful, tentative, and slow as if to make you really feel it. prominent veins pulsing where they meet your beating clit.

you stir cutely, calling his name as if to greet him in your dream. megumi kisses the crease between your brows — soothing, attentive. “i’ve got you, let me make you feel good.”

claggy, syrupy sounds cling to the cool night, arousal catching on megumi’s shaft with each pass through your sopping mound. you’ve probably no idea how wet you are, tendrils of sleep woven around your mind — making you pliant and perfect for him. he hisses when you clench around nothing but catch on every part of him, aching to be filled with his length.

the gusset of your soft cotton panties darken in the exchange of slick and precum — the gooey strands forming a strong web where he ends and you begin. much like the rise of your sun and the fall of his moon, the cycle of pleasure is endless and it embraces you even in deep slumber. his hips draw back, pearlescent and slender, and his mushroomed tip slips beneath the scalloped edge of your underwear once more. using nimble fingers and a gentle grip as to not spark any over-sensitivity — fushiguro takes hold of himself, his curved lengthy shaft bobbing in between nimble digits, for better leverage. rubbing his milky oozing head back and forth over your arousal beading nub.

occasionally he dips past the tight ring of your entrance, shuddering at your iron grip — pride tingling within the gap between brain and his skull at how selfishly you lock down on him even when you’re not awake to show the world.

he’ll always count his lucky stars that you’re so eager, so willing to let him have you as he sees fit. awake or asleep your precious pussy belongs to him. in the depths of your consciousness she craves him, it’s obvious in the way your hips canter upwards to meet megumi’s as your high approaches like rushing rapids. the manner in which your back bows towards the night sky — forcing his chest to yours as though you are trying to fuse your heartbeats into one.

“so good to me. so fucking good.” megumi coos under his breath, hidden beneath his aerated moans because he cums not too long after. limbs wobbly with his collapse on top of you imminent. his weight your shaky, sleepy frame is accompanied a shot of translucent, viscous white into the seat of your panties. the flood swirling with heated gush of nectar from your abused slit. all of it smears lewdly through your abused folds, white on your sensitive clit in the form of his signature.

lashes kiss your cheeks and neck whilst megumi steadies himself in the scent of sex and warmth of your skin. his breath shattered and mystified against you.

“i can be even better,” you murmur to him, feeling him flinch in surprise when your fingers curl in midnight locks at the nape of his neck — roused by the cooling mess between your thighs. “if you cum inside next time.”

all megumi can do is groan — hungry and appreciative because you really are always so ready for him.

end ! likes are appreciated, but just liking doesn’t do much on tumblr! to support and motivate myself and other writers, reply, reblog and comment if you'd like to see more!! — asks are open to thirsts and thoughts! join my taglist ! love you!

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED © TTEOKDOROKI 2020-26. all fanfics & layouts belong to me. do not copy, repost, translate, feed into ai, or recommend elsewhere.

[wizard-of-interesting-failure]

Reblog this post to cast Crumb of Serotonin on whoever you reblogged it from

[galaxychaos78]

seeing my husband freak out about all the animals at this zoo in Tokyo is so cute, he's just a boy🥹🥹💕💕