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#fuck your predatory god
underwaterspiderbird · 10 months
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venacoeurva · 8 months
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Perish (love how Tumblr decided that not only is it the queer site that constantly suppresses queer people, but now they’re happy to get desperate users (many of which are minors) to get their data harvested just like that koko one! Oh how they care.) I can’t wait to see the lawsuits.
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Your last two posts have made me imagine Brainiac 5 and the Legion getting stranded in the past for the umpteenth time, so Brainy just calls up Bart who calls up his time traveling family because y'know.
Anyways Brainiac (or more likely one of the other legionaries stuck with him) overhears Bart cursing and goes "wow they let you say that sorta stuff?" and suddenly has 4 different speedsters (Bart in horror, Jay, Max, and Wally in glee) looking at them
So the funny thing is that Max is from the wild west originally. That man is a cowboy and he has some rather... old fashioned values at times. Nothing too crazy. But he would definitely clutch his pearls if Bart was swearing in front of women because Max 100% subscribes to chivalry and all that jazz. He would be upset if Bart was swearing in front of children as well.
But the weird thing is that I can totally see Max being cool with it if it's just the two of them? Idk. Max has weird hang ups about being polite. It's especially weird when you remember that he's an introvert.
But yeah, Max would probably make Bart sit through an opera as punishment or something.
Now Jay would be VERY upset. He would give Bart a stern lecture about being polite, the whole nine yards, "I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed" and all.
I mean, Wally skipped a family dinner one time to prevent the apocalypse and Jay gave him a lecture about family values and being there for his kids. A single dinner. To save the world. Wally was an adult.
So, yeah, Jay would definitely have strong opinions on that.
Wally would think it's fucking hilarious.
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dcviline · 2 months
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the disproportionate amount of pro e///d content I come across by sheer accident on this site or that gets recommended to me on here despite having nothing on my blog, in my tags, or in my search history even mildly related to the terms used that would have an algorithm show me that content is fucking insane actually. and filtering the terms does nothing because people keep coming up with new tags to circumvent the ones they use that keep getting banned. so why the fuck is tumblr pushing this shit to the front page??? or in ANYONE's fyp????
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ribbonbondage2 · 3 months
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"age gaps and thigh gaps 😏" if this was the middle ages theyd have cut out your tongue for less. i should be allowed to kill
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kakusu-shipping · 1 year
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Cradle ships aren't usually my thing, but the idea of Sun dating one of the regulars at the daycare might be winning me over for real. Usually the potential predatory aspect squicks me but there's no way Sun fun would even begin to process it that way he just really likes this funky lil guy that finger paints with him and eventually gives him a little smooch... my heart (no shade to cradle shippers who like predatory dynamics! <3)
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Just a funky little guy and his ambiguous caretaker/lover.
#Emile's Arts#Sun#Cradle Ship#Thankyou very much anon for the ask I'm glad we can be your exception#My personal favorite side of cradle ships is when the older is agonizing over it#Like 'Oh god oh fuck I'm an evil awful horrible person for having feelings and thoughts about this child'#While said child is like 'I love them Duh like it's not hard man.'#I think it's funny#Favorite way to problematic ship is make it funny#I fully ignore the 'predatory' part of big age gap ships that part doesn't interest me at all the grooming the manipulation#It's boring I want a grown ass man on his knees in angst over falling in love with a toddler just for said toddler to give him a bandaid#There there pat his head and all that#It's funny it's cute it's my ideal I adore it#So while Sun isn't 'predatory' in this self ship at all he isn't like. Chill with it#It's Sun he's full of anxiety over everything#My description of his emotions is he was programed to 'Love Kids' and said program may have been a little.. faulty#I also hc Freddy got the same faulty programming and maybe Chica idk yet#And he knows it's WRONG but it's IN HIS PROGRAMING#so he's on the fence about if it's Romantic or Parental love he feels for me#Meanwhile I a whole 4 years old who doesn't know the subtle differences in love is very solid in my thoughts#I love Mr. Sun he is my caretaker and one day I will marry him#Because kids don't know man??? I think that's adorable.#Thankyou for asking#Thankyou very much again for this ask gave me an excuse to doodle Sun
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girlbob-boypants · 8 months
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I use my likes as a bookmark function so I like personal posts to show people support and then unlike said posts a few days later so that's the context otherwise this might come off as more random. anyways. thinking of what you've said about toxic positivity and I have to say being in those circles, it does also get to the point where it feels like you cant even talk about the things you do like and why, because the mentality of just of "if you dont have the same views 1:1 to me then it's a personal attack" so it's more of a personal anecdote but those spaces are severely allergic to any serious discussion even if its positive criticism and analysis lmao
Listen I've got ADHD. "This might seem random but" is about how I start 90% of tangents.
As for the actual discussion, 500% yeah. While I mostly rant about toxic positivity cause it's most of what I deal with, toxic negativity can be just as prevalent. It's the main reason I even mentioned reddit in the tags of the post I think you're talking about. When the changes for the daily system in my current mmo came out, anyone who talked about the good things got accused of "forcing positivity" for the act of not making yet another post about how awful the bad parts of the system were (which they were but also the good parts were just as good as the had parts were bad. Its a fascinating duality)
But honestly go onto any internet connected multiplayer game reddit after a change and you'll see what I'm talking about. Criticism skews towards hateful and positivity is accused of being forced.
I just find that small fandoms within tumblr tend towards being very insular groups that expect positivity. Like to the point where someone in my main mmo apologized for saying "hey do not buy this because charging $20+ for this is downright predatory" because it was "negativity." The act of letting people know a business is trying to steal money with a pretty cosmetic you'll never see for more than 3 seconds at a time being considered negativity in a fandom is insane to me, frankly.
Which if I wanted to argue a cause with nothing but anecdotes, I'd say it likely comes from the way criticism of big name fans within small fandoms will often be met with a response of "Ugh I don't need this negativity in my happy place" regardless of the context or validity.
At the same time tho I 100% know what you mean by pushback against positive criticism even within those same spaces that I find toxic positivity to be prevalent in. Just look at the fact that "im a hater" posts get so many notes. No post about a personal belief can be rb'd on tumblr without easily influenced people altering their personas to fit it here (see: the way funny bitchy posts between friends getting popular and resulting in being rude to strangers). Saying you like something thats (fandom) universally accepted to be bad can be grounds for mockery etc.
At the end of the day it does boil down to what you said at the end, people hate any serious discussion of their favorite media, regardless of whether it's positive or negative. And any variance from the (perceived) fandom universal belief will result in pushback of some kind.
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scare-ard--sleigh · 1 year
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not to be like a mom about this and there's no way to say it without sounding ageist but i see sooooo many 18 year olds with nsfw blogs and it concerns me so much tbh
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falinscloaca · 2 years
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also god DAMN it its old news but himeno hot
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major-victory · 5 months
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There sure is something about a Christian ad featuring people expressing fear and concern about "do we have to spend another year looking back at all our previous mistakes?" "Will I ever amount to anything?" "Will anyone ever truly love me for me?"
There sure is something about that ad being inserted into a video where someone is explaining the new anti-LGBTQ "propaganda" law that just went into effect in Russia (on Jan 10), where this person is explaining how you can now be arrested for just wearing a rainbow, how there's jokes about "oh you don't need to plant drugs on someone anymore to arrest them, just plant a rainbow pin on them". On this video discussing how queer people and allies (bc straight ppl are being arrested for this too, already, in russia) are being once again being threatened just for existing
And you insert that ad?
It sure is something.
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Can you write a college roommate head cannon for miguel O’Hara ( 18+ f!reader)
ik you asked for HCs but I have no self control... my bad, anon!
College Roommate!Miguel O'Hara Headcanons
(AO3 Mirror), Main Masterlist
pairing: College Roommate!Miguel O'Hara x f!reader
summary: Miguel is your roommate. And he’s hot. That’s it, that’s the tweet.
warnings: 18+ as fuuuck. F-receiving oral, using toys, masturbation, voyeurism (-ish), grinding, praise, service dom (idk?) Miguel, recreational drug use (reader and Miggy smoke a blunt). Minors DNI
a/n: I am a firm believer that modern day Miguel listens to 90s rnb, back when men were men: unabashedly, unashamedly down so fucking bad for their partners. he just gives me those vibes!!
edit: I'm writing a full fic for this! Rigor Mortis, college au fic, read here.
wc: 6k
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I'm thinking you become roommates but he's your last choice. 
Very last minute: you have a big falling out with your now ex-boyfriend, and the plans for flatsharing next semester goes right out the window. 
So all the good places are taken, and you're going apartment-hunting, but everywhere's either too expensive, too dirty, or there's a predatory clause hidden in the lease: shitty landlords and blaring red flags in 9pt Times New Roman. 
When you stumble upon Miguel O'Hara; a student in private accomodation who, lucky you, is in need of a roommate; it feels like a godsend.
Rent is affordable and he's nice enough; refusing to grunt more than a few words to you, but is clean, organised, and from what you can tell, is barely in the apartment. 
You sign onto the lease, desperately, hoping you've just been lucky and trying not to look a gift horse in the mouth. 
You give a thousand mile stare at the blank document in front of you. A bullshit paper due in exactly 12 hours. Yes, you left it until the final stretch, and yes, it's 10k words. Very doable. You're not fucked. Nope.
You blame it on the banging from next door. Paper thin walls; obscene noises. Cries of Yes Miguel and Just like that, daddy have been plaguing you for almost an hour. His stamina must be superhuman, the way the woman in his bed has been howling. Howling may seem extreme, but she sounds like a dying cat: cock drunk and babbling over Miguel O'Hara? 
Your new roommate had been nice enough. Quiet, unassuming, and seemed more than absorbed in his schoolwork. So you didn't expect him to unashamedly fuck the girl he's been tutoring for the past week. It all clicks. The "perfect roommate" turned out to have one teeny tiny little flaw: loud, obnoxious sex, well into the early hours of the morning. 
On autopilot, you're clicking through tabs on your bed. Perhaps you're a prude, but the sex noises are abrasive, excessive, to the point of parody. Persistent, Miguel's low voice reverberates in the walls of your bedroom; making heat pool at the base of your stomach. 
"You want it, hermosa? Tell me…. such a pretty girl… like that?" It's muffled, but his voice is unmistakable. Low, greedy, heavy with want. God, the last time someone's spoken to you like that was… 
You shake your head free of cobwebs. No. You're not rewarding him. You can't . Your roommate is shameless, and inconsiderate, and really fucking annoying . 
The smacking noises increase, coupled with banging on his side of the wall. Resolute, your face hardens. From where you perch on your bed, you slam the wall with the side of your fist. 
"O'Hara! Keep it the fuck down!" 
~~~
He's a biochem major, up to his ass in assignments and he still has time for societies, internships and tutoring. 
The only times he'd be in the apartment really was an impromptu session, and you didn't notice at first, but it became more obvious as the semester went on.
As a so-called tutor, he only seemed to pick the prettiest girls - they would twirl their hair on your kitchen counter and bat their pretty lashes at him when they didn't understand. Favours for a couple of friends, is his only response when you ask. 
It felt like you'd open the door to a new girl every week and you are baffled. Donned in makeup and short skirts, they'd waddle in asking for Miggy, or drop off half-finished assignments whilst craning their head through, trying to catch a glimpse of him. 
The absurdity would make you laugh if it wasn't affecting your sleep. 
Not that he's not absolutely gorgeous, but he's so quiet you would never have thought he had it in him: to have a revolving door of women lining up to lay underneath him. 
This time, her name is Sarah: pretty little thing in Miguel's Advanced Math class.  She perches on a stool, wearing a tight dress that is wholly not appropriate for a tutoring session. She's one of his regulars, if you can call it that, and has been failing for at least 2 semesters. You flash her a smile as you pad through the kitchen, searching the cupboards for a snack. God, she is gorgeous; dolled up for another long session with Miguel, no doubt.
"Where's he gone?" She asks politely. 
You shrug. "I couldn't tell you, sorry."
"It's okay… I'm just a bit stuck." You almost snort and catch yourself. For some reason, you didn't think they actually did any work, merely a pretense for the… cardio later on in the day. 
You glance at her sheet of paper, scribbles in purple pen with large swathes crossed out. Leaning over, you scan the page.
"Right here." You point and she follows with a manicured finger. "You fucked up with this integral and I think… yeah, I think that messes with the whole thing."
Her eyes light up as she follows you, explaining with a piece of cookie hanging out of your mouth. She's definitely smart, just a few little mistakes here and there that you're happy to point out. Thanking you fervently, she rushes to correct it. 
"Ah, it's no problem. I get mixed up with it too." You smile and notice Miguel by the doorway, watching with a strange look in his face. You roll your eyes as you walk past. What a fucking weirdo. 
"Thought I was the tutor?" He croons.
You raise an eyebrow, voice low as Sarah is engrossed in her work. "...I don't want to fuck her, Miggy , if that's what you're worried about."
A little cruelly you push past him, shoulders clashing against one another. Is he smiling ? For now, you blame your perpetual tiredness when you think you catch the hint of a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. 
~~~
You're a light sleeper, and it all makes for a tired, delirious combo. You sleepwalk through the day, scramble to finish assignments and whilst it's not all O'Hara's fault, you can't help but blame him for a lot of it. 
After you successfully get through one long week, you decide to celebrate. That means a couple hours of mindless hedonism: your favourite movie, greasy food…. and your trusty dildo. Not at the same time, of course. 
Miguel's not home, and he's not tearing down the walls with some other girl, for once, so you decide to treat yourself. 
You've been going through a dry patch, and you'd hate to admit it, but he does sound good through the thin drywall. 
It was a joke gift; given to you by a friend for your birthday. An obnoxiously purple dildo with a suction cup at its base. Aptly named Hugh, due to its - ahem - large stature. Standing tall at 7 or 8 inches, far bigger or thicker than any partner you've taken in the past. Sitting around a small diner booth with your friends and opening the bag to reveal him, had been quite the experience, for sure. 
It wasn't your fault you had gone through a dry spell in the past few months. With work, with school, with relationship issues, you hadn't had the time or energy to sleep around. Not that you were desperate for drunk, lackluster sex, followed by an awkward dance of ubers and shitty coffee in the morning. Like many, you preferred to do it yourself. 
Laptop open, you ease yourself onto the toy, already slick with lube. Prepping yourself with your fingers had been quite the task, tabs open to something on a lewd website. It's cheesy, but you didn't really like the bright lights and plastic of usual porn. The moans felt too fake, the sex devoid of any real passion. So you found a couple of independent creators; couples, mostly; carnal fucking with fervour only borne from real love . It's embarrassing to admit it, but your favourite parts are the little kisses and touches in between, or light laughter after a rough session. As if to say: it's okay and I'm still here. 
On your screen now is a longtime favourite video, a broad man bullying his fat cock into his partner. You can't help but think he looks like Miguel, not as pretty but tan with strapping shoulders, and large hands that wrap around the neck of the girl in the video. 
" F-Fuck," You breathe, sinking down onto your toy. You bet Miguel's palm on your throat would be deliciously rough, and you imagine how he'd fuck the brat out of you like the man on your screen. 
What hadn't occurred to you, however, was that the thin walls went both ways. Whilst you were quieter than many of the girls Miguel brought home, you were fairly shameless with the moans and curses that fell from your lips. Headphones on, you were blissfully unaware that Miguel had slipped into the apartment some time ago. The slap of your thighs to the floor, the desperate whine as you roll your hips over the toy - he can hear it all. 
Miguel has a conscience, so he does feel some amount of shame when he slips a hand down his trousers and presses an ear to your shared wall. He closes his eyes and bites down lusty groans, fisting his cock to your pretty noises. Noises he's been wanting to hear from you for months, now, imagining it was you underneath him instead of his usual partners. 
He times it just right, squeezing around his tip in time with the steady slap just beyond the wall. Are you fucking yourself? On your knees, hands flat on the floor, churning up your insides with a toy… or maybe ass up, dildo attached to something…? He almost cums with that mental image, wondering what you'd look like on your knees for him. Is the dildo as big as him? He knows you, knows you'd want it to hurt - for his cock to stretch out your pretty pussy when he cums deep inside you. 
All things he thinks about with a hand around his cock, and he's already close. But he wants to cum with you, listening intently for the signs. 
" Fuck," Your voice comes out muffled, but it makes him buck up into his fist all the same. " Need it… oh God, I-" 
He speeds up, wondering what it would be like to have your thighs shake underneath him, what it would take to have you babbling and begging for more. How would he break you? Maybe on his cock, where he'd watch you squirm as you take his length. Or on your knees, choking around him and licking up his cum. Or, God, thighs wrapped around his head, riding out your high with his mouth sealed on your clit, crying for him slow down, for him to-
" H-Harder, Miguel, please." 
He releases, sudden and intense, spilling white ropes into his boxers. 
" Fuck, Miguel…"
He fucks his fist through it, overstimulated from the way you say his name. It feels like the only way it should be said; spilling from your mouth, haphazard and desperate. Like honey, like treacle; sweet things he didn't know he had the capacity for. He lets that feeling wash over him, panting, bringing his forehead to rest on cool wall. 
~~~
He's hot. He's smart. He's a whore.
A total blindspot for you, and no matter how much you can't stand him; you still find yourself stealing glances whenever he's home. 
And he does seem to be home a lot more, often choosing to study on the dining table rather than his room. It's like he does it on purpose, using the warmer weather as an excuse to wear tiny tank tops and loose gray sweats - showing off the muscles of his broad back and arms perfectly.
Funnily enough, when he's not around those girls, he's bearable - seems to have grown a couple of brain cells in those short few days between sessions. 
You laugh and joke, sometimes, and he surprises you by suggesting a movie one quiet night. 
He offers you his sweater to snuggle into, you eat your weight in greasy takeout, and your roommate seems like an actually decent guy?? 
You had fallen into an easy routine: O'Hara leaves a flask of coffee for you to snatch up in the morning, hair damp from the shower and all, and you meet him with netflix and instant noodles in the evening. A push and pull that works in the little space - much smoother than your rocky beginnings.
After a truly shitty day, you come home to a quiet apartment. Almost sleeping through an exam, forgetting lunch, missing the bus home, and having to trek back through pouring rain in a thin coat. Everything that could go wrong, did, and you are left with the pieces. You trudge through the living room into the kitchen, the wet squelch of socks on laminate floor haunting every step. Shedding your limp outerwear, you lay the contents of your backpack onto the kitchen counter: clumps of loose paper, the damp leftovers of a textbook, bleeding ink. Your main concern, however, is your laptop slick with rain water. 
With baited breath, you put it on the slab, and press the power button. A click, a stuttering whir, and the screen flickers on. Then, just as strained, it putters off. Dead. Completely dead. Your legs almost give out, and you lean on the counter to steady yourself. Half of your life was there; including the final project that would make up a good chunk of your grade. It takes you everything not to collapse onto the floor right then and there. 
"How was it?" You hear the click of a door and Miguel calls out from the hallway. 
You wince."...F-Fine?" 
You hear footsteps, as he gets closer. "Are you asking or telling me?" 
You clear your throat, desperately trying to keep your voice steady. "Fine. It was fine. I'm just… it was fine."
Back still turned, you fumble around with the wet contents of your bag, hoping he doesn't notice. 
"Long day?" He says warmly, head poking into the kitchen. Haphazardly, you spare him a glance from behind your shoulder. He's dressed in a sweater that fits snug around his chest, rolled up to expose his forearms, and loose sweats. In his hands, he drinks from a cheesy mug - your mug, donning a stupid pun. He looks warm. Cosy. Domestic. For some, reason it makes your heart sink even further. 
Long day? "Something like that." You manage to squeeze out. There's a pregnant pause as he comes closer. Rummaging blindly through a cupboard, you try to hide behind its door. If he sees you like this, now, you don't know if you'll be able to hold it together. 
You close the door, and all of a sudden he's there, mug in hand. 
" Fuck, man- " It makes you jump, as he squints and takes a sip of his coffee. 
"You look… wet." 
"That's because it rained, Miguel." Snapping at him, your tone is biting. You're tired, stressed and in desperate need of a cry, but he is unrelenting in his gaze. 
"Are you ok?" He asks, unfazed. 
There's a lump in your throat and all you can do is nod with a tight expression.  His eyes flicker towards the counter and you shuffle, trying to cover up the mess. And then you watch it happen; initial confusion, a flash of realisation, and then worry; all in the space of a couple seconds. 
Gently, he pulls you aside to inspect the damage. "Mierda. This is pretty bad. You sure you're ok?" 
He's got a hand on your arm now,  The dam breaks and you crumple into tears in the kitchen floor. Of course, he comes with you, rubbing your back as you blubber through the details. 
" Nothing's going right for me… and I've got my final project on there… I'm barely keeping up as it is…" All he does is nod, face tight with something you can't quite name. It must seem pathetic to him, you think, shamelessly crying on the kitchen floor, complaining to your poor roommate. He can't leave you like this, because he's a decent person - but internally, he must think you're going crazy. 
It helps, having him there: a steady presence by your side. Slowly but surely, your tears subside. 
"You could've asked me to pick you up." He hands you some tissues off the counter, and watches as you mop up the tears. "I would've come, if you called."
"I didn't… I didn't think we were…" You search for the right word. 
"...friends?" He offers, with a small smile. "You think I let just anyone steal my sweaters?" 
"First of all," It makes you laugh, despite yourself. "You offered. And second, I've seen what you do with your friends, and I don't know if I have the energy for it."
"Ouch." Bashful, he rubs his chest like it aches. He sits a little close to you, knocking your shoulders with his own. "I know this girl who's crazy good with computers. I could ask her to take a look, if you'd like? Might not be able to save it but maybe we could recover the files?"
"...I'd like that, to be honest."
"Muy bien ." He leaps to his feet, palm stretched towards you to help you up. "I'll run you a warm bath or something. You're creating a puddle and it's going to ruin my floor."
"Our floor, asshole. I pay rent here, too." 
~~~
You find that you enjoy being around him, and he feels the same. 
You can't help but compare him to your shitty ex who you were planning to move in with: and even with his quirks, Miguel is better in every way. 
There is harmony in your household, for a while, and you almost look forward to coming home to him after class. Almost. 
It doesn't last long, because of course it doesn't. You'd thought you'd come to a tentative ceasefire, able to casually rib and joke with each other - takeout and B-roll movies aside. He leaves you leftovers from food he makes, you turn down your music when he's studying, and he even woke you up the other day when you had slept through your alarm.
Beyond the wall, his music is loud: a playlist you recognise as the one he puts on to (unsuccessfully) mask the noise of his usual late night adventures. Cheesy love ballads, heady RnB that leaks into your own room. You'd rather die than admit his taste in music isn't horrible, but it usually means a long, long night for everyone around. With finals around the corner, there's no way you can let this stand. 
What kind of person does that? Lull you into a false sense of security with Snakes on a Plane and pepperoni pizza? 
Absorbed in your own work, you hadn't even realised he had someone over; let alone was gearing up for obnoxious sex. You'd bang on the wall, but you feel like you guys are past that: crossed a threshold of intimacy that means you can shout at him up close and personal. 
So you stomp over to the hallway, banging at the door to his room. In the short trip there, you've worked yourself into a frenzy. How many times have you told him to keep it down? That it was rude and inconsiderate to flaunt his sex life in your face; to fuck other women so loud you were practically involved? There was something about the little smile he would give you afterwards, when you catch him shepherding his latest out the door in the morning - like he gets off on it, enjoys it, when you react. Even when you think you're over it, he still manages to drive you absolutely crazy. 
“Miguel? Open the fuck up!"
You're still fuming when the door opens with a click, and Miguel appears in the sliver of the doorway. He opens it so that his frame is half swallowed by the door, top half peeking through with a lazy hand in his hair. And of his top half, he's bare from the waist up, black band of his boxers sitting low on his v-line and loose sweats. 
All the wind is knocked from your sails, and you lose your train of thought. 
"Yeah?" 
"I…" You clear your throat. "I don't care who you fuck, but when I'm doing work-" 
"-I'm not." He chuckles. "There's no one here, hermosa. Just me. And you, I guess…"
There's something about the way he says it, lazily, as if it's his first time saying those words - wrapping his tongue around your name to see how it fits. If it fits, how it tastes. His relaxed posture, the way his hair falls…
"You're high." Your brow shoots up. "... you're high!" 
With a finger pressed to his lips, he grabs your hand and pulls you into his room, eyes darting around the hallway. 
"Shhh! You can't-" Now, he gets close, whispering like he's saying something he shouldn't. "You can't tell anyone. "
"I won't." You breathe. His face is serious at first, and then you're both giggling. You've never seen him so carefree, and it's nice to see Miguel walking around without the weight of the world on his shoulders.
He's still holding your hand, pressed close, and you see him drag his eyes up and down your figure. "You want do something you'll regret…?"
"...I've got a 9am, tomorrow, I really-" 
"-shouldn't?" He finishes, dragging his hand up your bare arm, pupils blown. He gets up to your shoulders, tucking your hair behind your ear. It's sinful, the way his touch is gentle but gaze heavy - violent in the way he practically eyefucks you. You feel bare, in little sleep shorts and a t-shirt.
He steps back, lounging on his bed, and makes for a half finished blunt by the adjacent window sill. Sighing, you sit by him, sinking into the mattress. He pats you closer, dangerously close, and you comply. One arm curled by your waist, the other brings the blunt up close and you wrap your lips around it. When Miguel brings a lighter to the blunt, you lean into it, knuckles brushing your lips. 
You take a drag, long, heavy, eyes closed. And when they open, you're met with his own. Maybe it's the weed, maybe it's the heady atmosphere, but you swear his eyes are low and deep with lust.
"Good girl." He rumbles, cupping your chin and tracing a thumb to your lips. He separates, bringin the blunt to his own lips before leaning back to pass it to you. As quick as he gets close, he pulls away; leaning back into the expanse of his large bed. And he looks good, head drawn back and the curve of his tan arm drawn upwards. Tufts of hair from his chest, the trail that leads down suggestively - and without inhibition, you basically drool over him. God, there it is. You feel it kick in and let it wash over you. 
His music, long forgotten, blends into your downy haze. You want to sit in his lap, rest your head on his chest. You get it now: if this is the view all those women he tutors get to have, then you finally understand. 
"Come closer, hermosa ." You barely register the nickname, only focused on the way he says it, the delicious way it rolls off of his tongue. You nod, and shuffle closer. His siren song sounds sweeter, somehow, up close. 
You pass the blunt between you both, and watch it dwindle to the last dregs. Lying down next to him, he clutches your hand and takes the butt between his fingers, letting its flames die as you watch. You giggle and his gaze softens.
"I didn't expect this from you." You look up to see an upside-down Miguel, hiding a smile. 
"Expect what?" He drags himself downwards, to rest his head by your side. 
"All…" You gesture vaguely. "This. Don't even think I've been in your room for this long, before."
His room looks exactly how you'd expect it: tidy and modest, a row of trophies neatly lined up on a shelf, a telescope pointing out towards a window. There are posters by his bed; science related, mostly. You tilt your head in the direction of one of them.
"Is this what they see?" You mumble to no one in particular. 
He manages to catch it, sluggish in his response. "...Is this what who sees?" 
"All the girls you fuck." It tumbles your of your mouth, before you can help it. 
He tilts his head too, looking at the poster and you watch the sharp lines of his jaw besides you. Even at this angle, he's so pretty. 
"Huh. I guess they do." 
"It's not very romantic, is it?" You blink, oblivious. Your question is met with a noncommittal shrug. "What was her name last time? Cassie, Clara-something…"
"Katie." He hums. 
"Katie." Ignoring the twinge of disappointment at his quick response, you hope it's the weed and not jealousy that made you pretend to forget her name. 
You sit up on your haunches, tracing the valleys and mountains of his bare chest with a leisurely finger. You try not to notice the way he shivers at your touch. 
"I could hear everything. Every, 'Yes daddy'," You feign a moan by curling your lips into an O-shape. You bring your other hand to your hair, head tilted back with exaggerated movement. "And 'right there, Miggy, right fuckin' there' ." 
Technically, you're making fun of him and laughing, expecting him to follow. But he doesn't, head back and eyes boring into you - only bringing a hand to press yours at his chest. 
"Thin walls, Miguel." You clear your throat, sensing a shift in the atmosphere. Too far, probably. "Sorry, shit. I didn't mean-" 
"I hear you too." He says softly. "I heard you, the other day."
Head filled with cotton, it takes a moment for his words to really click. So he elaborates, lacing his fingers with your own. 
"Fucking yourself, hermosa ." He says it lazily, like the vulgarity of the act doesn't register.
Your eyes widen in horror. How much exactly did he hear?
"...and I heard you say my name." 
"It was…. i-it wasn't like that-" Fuck. You can't think straight as it is: and his voice is low and silky, rubbing circles on your hand close to his chest. Even now, he oozes confidence, the steady thump-thump of his heart giving away nothing. 
"Hmmm? Then what is it like?" You blink at him, unable to answer. "You're a hypocrite. You complain about all these women I supposedly fuck, but then-" 
He pulls you closer, so that your lips almost touch his. "-you lock yourself in your room, touching yourself and thinking about your poor roommate. What am I meant to do with you?"
A pause, and in your daze, you can't breathe. For all your theatrics, it's too easy for him - to prod and tease, and for you to chase after him. You move to kiss him, but he grabs your chin at the last second. "Not quite. I want to hear you say it."
"Fuck- " You crumple, hiding your head in the crook of his shoulder. Even in your haze, the nerves bubble up from the base of your stomach. "Fuck me, please , Miguel."
He places a hand on your thigh, leading you to straddle his middle, other hand wrapped around your waist. He grinds your lower half into his, leaning up to bring your lips together. 
He tastes sweet, greedily lapping up your moans in the clash. You're not thinking, not really, lost in the heat of his body, desperate and eager when you kiss. To contrast, Miguel cups your chin, pulling you away for air whenever you sink too deep. Somehow, he still manages to look smug, taunting you with a flash of his little fangs whenever you separate. If you weren't feeling the effects of that blunt, you may have had the means to be embarrassed at how much you want him - needily grinding against him and pawing at his chest. 
It's too slow, too leisurely, like a punishment; and he refuses to give you what he knows you want. Your whines betray you when he finally slips a hand down your shorts. 
"¿Paciencia, hmm?" He grabs a handful of your ass, clothed cock catching on your clit. It rips another moan from you, which he happily swallows with another kiss. "Patience, princesa."
You hump against one another like teenagers, your hands planted by his head for purchase. Hips moving of their own accord, you chase the relief Miguel provides: with his hands kneading your ass, length catching at your clit, and teeth nipping at your bare neck. 
He licks a stripe up your collarbone, soothing the blossoming hickeys with a hum. 
Fuck, how can he be so casual ? You don't know if it's the weed or something else, but he is in his element, hand dipping down your back to graze at your pussy from behind. He hisses when he realises how wet you are, swiping his fingers down your slit and taking them out to pop them in his mouth. 
Now, flushed and face hot with embarrassment, you look up at him with big doe eyes. It makes Miguel feel guilty for stopping you so close to your climax. Beautiful : lower lip hooked under your teeth, plump and swollen and kissable. He'll make up for it later: a promise he whispers into skin. 
"You're soaked." He cups your cheek to press a kiss to your forehead, and all you can do is whine. His gaze dips down, to the swell of your tits in that thin shirt.. 
"What did you think about when you touched yourself?" It's soft, said in the warm press of your bodies; hook-shaped and hazy and you fit like you were made for one another. The thought lingers, plants a dangerous seed that makes you forget that the man underneath you is your roommate : unrepentant whore, Miguel O'Hara. 
"You." You've seen it first hand, he eats hearts for breakfast; and yours is on a platter for him to devour.
He laughs, deep and rumbling, hands resting on your waist. "I know that, baby. You don't have fantasies? Fuck yourself to the thought of someone touchin' you just right?"
Not just someone, him, you think. Your voice dies in your throat at the way he looks at you. "Just… n-nothing really-"
He hums, grinding your hips onto his. "Speechless, I can't believe it. Is this what I need to do to get some fucking peace around here?" 
You roll your eyes, "Don't be a dick, Miguel. When I shout, it's because you deserve it."
"...there it is." Eyes shining, his face stretches into a shit-eating grin. Wide, unabashed, unambiguous. "You back with the living, sweetheart?" 
It makes you laugh, even though you hate to give him the satisfaction. 
"What do you want?" He kneads your thigh and pleasure pools at the base of your stomach. 
You mumble something begrudgingly.
"Hmm? Can't hear you, baby."
Louder, now. "...want to sit on your face, Miguel." 
Lowly, he groans, shaking his head. "Mierda… of course you do."
Expertly, he helps you take your shorts off, dragging the thin material down your thighs. You clambers upwards, wrapping them around his shoulders, watching intently as he kneads the soft skin. It's tentative, at first, and you place your hands on the headboard to perch just above his mouth. 
He licks, diving in with the flat of his tongue: a long upwards stroke that ends with him sucking your clit. Moaning, your hips jump and he chases your pretty pussy up, large palms pushing you back down. He concentrates on your bundle of nerves, lips around your clit like a man on a mission.
And, God, does it feel good; he watches and learns from your every movement, committing your body to memory. His moans vibrate deliciously, tension building at that spot faster than your mind can register it. Then, you clench around nothing, gushing into his mouth whilst he eases you through it. The noises he makes are obscene; one leg off the bed and a hand snaked under his boxers. He's getting off on it; watching you crumple and sob around his tongue. 
And when you begin to move off, thighs sore, he doesn't relent, sealing his mouth on your pretty little hole. 
"Miguel.. fuck-" After your first orgasm, it surprises you when he continues, tongue fucking you with fervour. He presses you close, impossibly close, and your body fights against his ministrations. Heat, everywhere, and it's too much. The haze of the blunt begins to wear off and you are left with biting clarity. You want more of him, deeper; drunk off of just his tongue. 
You card your hands in his hair, and he moans: deep and wanton, with his eyes fluttering shut. He wants to look, to watch you when you cum on his tongue for a second time. Back arched, the curve of your tits peeking through a tiny top, fucking yourself on his face. He wants it hard , wants you to take control and use him to get off. 
"Right there, fuck… "
Like you can hear his thoughts, you press yourself down harder, riding the deep ridge of his nose for relief. Miguel complies and leans into it. He eats you out like a man starved and the carnality of it all brings you to a second peak. You cum once again, legs wrapped tight around his face. Head back, he laps it up readily. 
You separate with a wet pop, and Miguel looks blissful : fucked out and panting, wiping the slick off of his face with a forearm. Exhausted, you lean back onto the mattress beside him. 
"That was…" He searches for the right word, and it's your turn to finish for him. 
"... good. " Scarily good. So good you won't be able to see him around the apartment without remembering what he looks like trapped between your thighs. 
Gently, he turns to cup your cheek and bring your lips to his. It starts off sweet and deepens rapidly, making that thread at the pit of your stomach tighten, again. He grabs your thigh, bringing it closer, and you feel his length poking your stomach. Fuck. 
"You haven't…?" Your hand makes for his trousers, and he stops you. "I want to, Miguel. Want you to feel good too."
His head sinks into your shoulder. "I know, baby, I know. Not like this. Not yet."
You nod, still wrapped up in his arms. You haven't even fucked, and it feels more intimate than it should. 
"You've got a 9am tomorrow." He smiles with a hand underneath his head. 
"I've got a 9am tomorrow," You repeat, sighing. "...and my life is falling apart. I'm failing half of my classes as it is."
He turns to you, lazily. 
"I could tutor you, if you'd like."
"That's not fucking funny, Miguel."
_
_
Miguel taglist: @d1lf-loverrr, @afro-hispwriter @ilovemiguelohara @weedxgirlx420 @ladydovahkiin180 @aaliyuh3 @sweetanimebakery @vvitcxen @rosecoloredlenses708 @daikondal @magikmina @impettywhenyouare @alonelygirlsuicidenote @plushyplants @javi0ca @rheeves @starrfruit @nikirikii @marsbars09 @foxglove-grove @mimooyi @crosshairclown @dead-by-light @kynamitedessert @naarra @wanderlustingcastaway @sagejin @cookielovesbook-akie @tangerineloverrr @gobblegluckgluckgod @wolfiepirate @jxxey3 @ebrysteria @elliemm @manchuria @youngghostpeachslime @weasleybuns @ilovemuppets @vauriz @bonbyon @aimno256 @ancientbeing10 @tvije @venus1224idkpleaze @neteyamsbulletwound @chickenjefferson-blog @maki-z @jasjasthings
_
edit: the full fic xx
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m-ayo-o · 6 months
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-> when the jjk men fuck the tightest girly around <3 tw# reader is small, unprotected sex, size kink, "fat" cock, tummy bulge, cervix fxcking +++++ reader's 🐱 is too small for them :( no sukuna bc i do not wish death upon the reader
18+ NSFW
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Toji
Most women he meets are "tight" by his standards. He's used to it. He finds himself constantly dealing with complaints; too fucking big, it won't fit. But you... you're tighter. He knows he'll have to be careful. He rests his dick on your belly and just watches you panic for a minute. He looks at your body and how your legs are folded up and the way his hand seems to cover your whole midriff where he's holding you still. Your eyes dart down to his cock, that's just so... fat. He holds it in his hand and starts teasing you with the tip, sliding up and down, pushing you open. But he's just playing with you.
When you beg him just right he starts slotting himself inside while his predatory gaze fixes on your puffy lower stomach. You wonder why he's staring there so intently until you look down to see him sinking in, followed by the unmistakable rise of your stomach. Your eyes go wide. You've never seen anything like that before. He rests his hand there to feel himself and just gives you an arrogant smirk, loving your shocked reaction.
He leans in some more and your legs start trying to squeeze shut. He just gets all frustrated and mad that he can't stuff all his cock inside in one go, but he deals with it and sinks inside as far as you'll take him. Maybe he can get a nice cock ring to hug his base next time so he can get a little attention there as well. It feels wrong, not being balls deep inside you, but he knows he would literally tear you open if he got back any further.
"I'm not all the way in. Is that seriously all you can take? Pussy's so small, come here- oh, shit, tha's really the back, huh? Ok, ok, calm down, don't fuckin' cry, baby, I'll just sit nice and snug against you here- yeah, is that your cervix? It hurts? Look, there's still inches of me left, just let me have this, let me- ngh, don't tell me not to cum inside- I'll cum where I want, pretty girl."
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Kento
It's your first time 'sleeping over' at his place and he's more fucking nervous than you. You've never even seen his dick before but when you unzip him while he's grabbing at his thighs trying to contain a moan you hold and squeeze him and he barely fits.
You're using two hands on his shaft and your tongue on his tip- now you can really see what you're dealing with your mouth is starting to water. You do your best to accommodate him with your mouth first, sucking only half his cock like some massive, thick lollypop. Then when he tugs at your hair and lifts you up onto his spread legs, you feel his sticky tip poking your cute pussy and you just have to try.
He lets you go down at your own pace as your body struggles with the circumference of his shaft. But he's getting in there, slowly, and he's groaning and sighing so beautifully you just have to keep going. You have to try to take him whole, but it just stops. You let out a squeal of frustration. But, to your pleasure, he just holds your back and starts moving his hips, guiding you over his massive member.
"Mmh- mm, fuck- both hands, honey, yeah- o-oh, your mouth, ah, is that the back of your throat, already? Okay, come up here, yeah keep your legs nice and wide- hold onto my shoulders, that's it. Mm, yeah, slower, slower, d-don't rush it, hah- ah, fuck! No, no, that's it you can't go any deeper, sweetie, don't worry please don't hurt yourself. That's enough. Good girl, let me do it now."
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Satoru
This kitty got claws, and god damn he's gonna sink them into the fat of your ass when he's impatiently trying to get his dick in your cute little hole. He moans and cries and nearly pulls out to throw a fucking tantrum because he can't fit, but after scolding him and telling him you don't care how many inches he can get inside you his usual bravado returns. He holds the slim curve of your waist that just looks ridiculously tiny in his big hands and he just stares at where he's sinking in and out of you, getting your cream all over him.
He grabs your hair into a ponytail now, his thumb playfully slipping over your ass while he rails you with all he can give you and he starts to feel rather smug. Although he's not getting his usual treatment- a deep fucking that has sweet pussy juices of his lucky partner coating him right from base to the very tip of his perfectly curved cock- he is starting to enjoy the fact that he's just too long.
He's joked about it, sure, turning girls down, saying stuff like, 'you won't be able to handle me anyway, princess', or 'you should fuck my friend instead, his dick isn't as big'. But he didn't realise he'd ever actually find a girl so tiny that it just wasn't physically possible. It's not as if he needed an ego boost in that department, but he starts to enjoy the idea so much that he has to get his phone out to take a few pictures (that will definitely get a lot of use). Maybe he'll show Suguru, too, just to show off a little. But he really does need to get his whole cock coated, so maybe next time he'll try your ass.
"It won't fit!! Ugh, it's not fair, how come I ended up with the cutest most pretty girl who has the smallest puss- oh! Ok, I'm sorry, jesus! Don't take it so personally I just wanted to fuck you properly... tsk- yeah, at least you're all filled up, huh? Yeah? Oh, it really does feel good? Ok, ok fine let me fuck you like this I don't care- yeah, s'not my fault my dick is so big just- ugh, get on your knees, mmh- yeah show me that ass!"
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Suguru
He tries to coax you open so gently and frowns like he's done something wrong, encouraging you as if he could expand the very walls of your vagina, as if he could relocate your cervix. He spits on your clit and rubs it around with his thumb in slow circles until you cream on him one more time and he sucks his teeth from that squeezing sensation that feels so much hotter because of how small you are.
And he's so fucking determined that it's his fault, but you know it's you, so you try to explain that it's all you can take and he almost doesn't believe you until he sees you wince in pain from where he's pressed against your cervix.
He looks so shocked and mesmerised, he has to pull all the way out and get his fingers inside you to check. His fingers are long and yes, they can reach close to the back too and you let out a little yelp at the familiar feeling of being filled. Two fingers. Two long, masculine fingers is all it takes and you're squirming and writhing around. He has to pin you down and sink his cock back in with new found urgency now, telling you to pinch at his nipples if you need him to ease up.
"Baby, baby shh, I know you can take some more, just- yeah, try to relax, let me open you up- mmh- maybe you just need one more, one more- that's it. No way? I can't get any fucking deeper? I- I've never fucked a girl with such a cute pussy- no it's okay don't say sorry, you're gorgeous- so fucking tight it's making me dizzy. Uh uh, no you won't just suck me off instead I'm going to fuck you stupid just don't let me hurt you, ok?"
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hcs | m.list
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elaci · 28 days
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Ten Times Too Many
You said Ghost couldn’t beat his record of making you finish five times in one night. He said he could double it.
cw: overstimulation, afab reader, more overstimulation, creampies :)
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x afab!reader | 18+ MDNI
req rules ⁞ request here ⁞ crossposted on ao3
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There isn’t a shred of doubt in your mind: Ghost knows how to emulate an ego death with the way he fucks.
You’re used to the rough ploys, the sick dirty talk and mind-numbing orgasms that leave you half-blind. You know how good it gets, how addicted he is to ruining you. You know his end goal is always your mindlessness, each fuck an attempt to strip you of even your own name.
What you didn’t know is how good he can make overstimulation hurt.
It was a spur of the moment thing, a bet between you gone awry when you insisted he couldn’t beat his record of pulling five orgasms from you in one night. He said he could double it, you laughed in his face— now he’s laughing in yours.
It’s a low laugh that comes from his stomach, muffled by his mask as he bottoms out inside of you yet again. You may just be hypersensitive, but you swear you can feel the vibrations of his laugh in your pussy, it makes you whine, a sweet song he’s all-too used to.
Number nine is approaching— you feel it in the shaking heat of your stomach and the rolling nausea that rolls over you, you’re so cumdrunk you feel sick. Ghosts pace stays relentless, drilling into you with a fervour that seems almost inhumane— he’s driven by the sight of you unravelling beneath him. Sweat soaks the sheets beneath you, tears stain your cheeks, Ghost groans.
“Come on, Love, do as you’re told, yeah? Come for me.”
Your mind is so blurred you can’t tell when your orgasm starts and when it ends, a blinding moment of pleasure is all the indication of time you have. Ghost grins, you can see it in the way his mask moves, predatory like a shark set on the smell of blood. You cry, choked sobs stuck in your throat dislodge with each thrust onto Ghosts cock. He stretches you open, moulds you into the perfect fit for him— as if holy hands carved you from a model of his being.
“Please,” the moment you’re sane enough to speak again, or at least try to, you’re begging for an ounce of the soldiers mercy. “Pleasepleaseplease, baby fuck… I cant take it anymore.”
Simon slows, rolls his hips into yours slow enough to give you a second to breathe. He may be a sadist, but he’s not all that evil. You take the moment to look at his body. Despite the mask covering his face, he’s otherwise naked, torso toned and scarred in beautiful ways you could stare at until your last breath. The flex of his muscles as he moves, stretching you out, is a narcotic within itself. God, he’s ruined you from the inside out.
A sudden snap of his hips into yours and you nearly scream. He’s still rock hard, and you’ve lost count of the times he’s fucked his cum into you— you take it as a testament of his need. When Ghost thrusts into you again, his balls hitting your ass with the weight he puts into fucking you as deep as he can, you reach out and push a sweaty palm against his chest.
“Stop,” you grit your teeth. “You’re going to kill me, I’m so fucking sensitive.”
Another slow roll of his hips, Ghost tests the waters. He leans in, his chest against yours in a mix of laboured breaths and sticking sweat, and laughs.
“Say the safe word.”
His dick pulses inside of you, his release near. You could tap out, let go of the all-encompassing pleasure you feel and nurse your sore thighs with a warm bath. But part of you knows you’ll grieve the fit of his cock inside you the second he pulls out and kisses you better. Ten orgasms at the hand of a man who’s done a lot worse than fuck someone into a coma— he’s not the man to push, he asks again.
“Safe word, love.”
“Fuck you.”
“What I fuckin’ thought.”
A flip switches and, although you hadnt known it possible, Ghost moves faster than ever before. His hands pawing at your tits, cock slipping in and out of you in a frenzied pace that grounds you as much as it wrecks you. If his mouth weren’t covered by his mask you have no doubt he’d be marking every inch of your neck and chest as his— staking his claim on the body he’s already fucked into favour. Deep strokes of his cock inside you are enough to bring hot new tears to surface, pooling in your eyes as you forget how to breathe, think, do anything other than feel his presence inside of you.
“Fuckin’ perfect, you know that? Last one, pretty, just one more.”
It’s everything about him, his size and weight and the smell of cigarettes and gunpowder that sticks to his skin and permeates the air around you. It’s the dedication, his fingers circling your clit in dedicated service to your pleasure, the searing heat of his cock near-breeding you stupid. It’s the way his breath quickens, and you can see his muscles tense and, despite your mind being halfway to heaven, you know he’s on the brink of cumming.
It’s the release you share, when he folds over on top of you, crushing you under his weight as he finishes. His hips thrusting as deep as he can get inside of you, sounds of sweet ecstasy leaving his mouth and staining your skin with goosebumps as you fall over the edge one last time.
Number ten, blinding— you see stars and galaxies. You could be convinced you were floating if not for the weight of Ghost on top of you. Your body spasms and jerks in response to his ministrations, a masochistic ache for more settling in your stomach as you choke on your breath.
There’s a moment of silence as Ghost buries his head in the crook of your neck, just a second to catch his breath. He could fall asleep right here inside of you if it weren’t for the pressing matter of aftercare, you could too. You’re so stuck on the mindless string of orgasms you’ve just had that when Ghost pulls out of you, you nearly cry with sensitivity.
You cant form the right words, lost in a place less real than this— your body still tingles when Ghost slips his mask off and you’re met with the tear-blurred sight of your Simon. He leans down, presses a kiss to your lips softer than any other, and then ducks his head down further to gently kiss the pussy he just fucked numb.
A cock of his head, chest still heaving with exertion.
“Cmon,” a hand extended to you, “bath. Y’need it.”
“Fuck you.”
“Maybe later.”
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tonycries · 3 months
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Lemme Ride, Baby!
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Synopsis. Riding your cocky boyfriend to insanity is not a want, but a need. Especially when he sits there so deliciously arrogant - you just have to break him.
Pairing. Multiple x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, cowgirl, slight switch! boys, established relationship, creampie, power dynamics, dirty talk, swearing.
Word count. 1.3k 
A/N. Had this in my drafts for so long.
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He sits across from you on the bed. Long legs spread, eyes half-lidded, and kiss-bitten lips turned into an aggravating smirk that makes your dripping cunt clench. 
“Good luck lasting more than five seconds, pretty girl.” he drawled lazily, oozing pure cockiness.
So that’s how he’s gonna play, huh?
“Let’s see if you can live up to your own hype, darling.”
“Mhm, I won’t be the one begging for mercy.”
Ah, for the life of him he should’ve known. Should’ve gotten an inkling at the way you sauntered over to him in nothing but a predatory grin. Should’ve begged for mercy at that carnal gleam in your eyes that made blood rush straight to his traitorously hard cock. You wanted to eat him alive. 
And he was going to eat his words.
At first, your cocky boyfriend pretended to be unfazed, laying back leisurely on his forearms. But you saw the way his eyes flickered with nervousness when you grabbed him roughly by the shoulders and slammed him onto the mattress. You felt the way his already-throbbing erection twitched so animalistically as you urgently swung a leg over his hips. You knew you had him wrapped around your little finger. 
“Let’s hope you can last as long as you talk.”
Bullying his achingly hard cock into your snug cunt, sinking down agonizingly slowly. Relishing the way his eyes roll back in sheer ecstasy as your plushy walls suck him up so desperately. “Fuck, yes. You feel s’amazing wrapped around me. Sure you can handle it all?” 
You waste no time. 
Abruptly slamming down on his leaking cock. “Ah- Hah-” Your boyfriend’s surprised moans get choked in his throat as you rock your hips back and forth at a punishing pace. 
Pulling all the way up till his furiously flushed tip is teasing your sloppy hole. Slick dripping on his length, slamming down down down - his glistening veins massaging that one spot just right. Over and over. Harder. Faster. 
The sinful squelches of your cunt filling the heady air of your bedroom. Driving him to insanity.
“Oh, god yes- jus’ like that ah fuck fuck fuck…” his low groans come in ragged bursts, cock twitching wildly. A large hand shoots up to clutch your bouncing breasts, tweaking your hardened nipples, the other having a white-knuckled grip on the sheets.
“Give up ye- ah! Hngh, you little fucker-” a moan escapes your lips as he bucks his hips defiantly, chasing his high. Thick tip kissing your cervix so painfully good. 
Your hungry eyes bore into his blown-out ones, a defiant glint in them as he still tries to maintain his cool façade. Biting his bottom lip, brows furrowed in heavy concentration as he fights to hold back cumming. 
Stubborn bastard.
Several things happen at once.
Your hand shoots out to grip his exposed neck, nails digging into his skin, hard. Almost as hard as you ram down on his cock, sheathing him till his twitching balls smack your ass. Wasting no time once he’s bottomed out. Harsh, purposeful movements just to fuck his soul out. 
His pretty lips fall into soft oh. Fucked out, gurgled moans leaving his lips around the hand at his throat. “Oh! Ah! Shit, tha’s right. Take every inch.” And if he thought he was going to pass out before then- 
He couldn’t even finish the thought, brain stuck on the way you clamp down so obscenely around him, milking him greedily. Biceps curling, a hand reaches above him to hold onto the headboard - and maybe his sanity.
“Give up yet?” You grind down mercilessly, walls hugging his throbbing erection impossibly tight. Clit rubbing against his toned pelvis. Back and forth and back and forth and- Sloppy, it was so sloppy.
Slick gushing out of your heated cunt, dripping down his length and pooling at his heavy balls, stinging your ass at each merciless thrust. “God, fuck- hah. That all you got, pretty girl?.” 
Thighs burning, you alternate between torturously slow strokes and frantic bouncing that left you both restless. Hypnotizing rhythm him slowly towards the edge, only to reel him back again. 
He will eat his words. 
You lose track of time. Maybe it’s been hours - maybe even just a few minutes. 
Pulling and pushing. Over and over. 
“Ah- Hngh-.” Eyes barely keeping open, torn between the fucking obscene view of your dripping pussy swallowing his cock so greedily and the lustful, power-drunk expression on your face. “Wanna- wanna cum, pretty girl.”
“Then beg for it.”
“No.”
Voice strangled, sweat beading on his forehead. You watch, cunt fluttering at the fucked-out little smile curling his lips, and the carnal way his neck was leaning into the tight grasp you had around it. 
You lean forward, a cruel smile playing on your lips, “Beg for it.” you repeat, voice sultry and dangerous.
He shakes his head desperately, tears peeking out from where his eyes were scrunched closed. “No.” he whispers, jaw clenched tight.
You press impossibly closer, breasts hot against his sculpted chest, sticky with sweat. Not stopping your maddening rhythm, your breath is hot against his ear, “Beg for it, and I’ll let you cum harder than you ever have before.”
He throws his head back, toes curling into the mattress, and thighs quivering at the way you were using him like nothing more than a toy.
“Please.” he finally breathes, words barely audible over the sloppy slapping of skin on skin.
“Louder.” 
“Please, let me cum, pretty girl.” he groans, leaning into the mockingly innocent peck you leave on the tip of his nose.
You reward him, slamming down on his throbbing cock with renewed vigor. Finally giving into the way you were drunk off his cock just as much as he was off your pussy. A hand reaching behind you to massage his balls, feeling the weight on your palm. Tugging on them in a way that has his breath hitching and dick twitching so desperately inside you. Aching for release.
“God, yes. Yes, yes, yes. Right there.” He lets out a guttural moan, thrusting up into you in short, frantic jabs to match your unforgiving cadence. His leaking tip hitting that perfect angle to send sparks flying behind your eyelids. 
And you let him, chasing your high as much as his, eyes locked on his greedy gaze.
How long has it even been? All he knows is that fuck if heaven was real then he was there right now, looking at a goddess herself. Ah, close. So close. His thrusts grow jerkier, cock pulsing inside you. 
“Cum for me, darling. Fill me up till you’re leaking out of me.”
A sharp whimper of your name and he’s spilling into you. His body bows into yours, thick, hot ropes of his cum that fill your snug cunt. Painting your walls white to match the pleasure that runs down his spine - all the way to his leaking cock. It gushes inside of you, trailing down his sensitive cock to form a creamy ring at his base. 
Stars behind his eyes, teeth gritted. He’s heard of orgasms so powerful they take control of one’s body, and right now fuck if this isn’t that then he didn’t know what was. 
Nails digging into your hips - keeping you still as he pounds into you, fucking his seed deeper and deeper. Cock throbbing around your quivering walls - overstimulated as you cum around the feeling of him filling you up. Vision blurring, blood roaring in your ears as everything crashes together like a tidal wave. 
Before you know it, you’re collapsing onto his heated chest. Limbs tangled and breaths mingling as you both try to catch your breaths. 
You can feel his cum leaking out of you, thick and sticky. Pooling between your legs. Stomach feeling so full of him.
“Looks like you talked a lot more shit than you could handle, darling.” you grin, still breathless. 
Oh. You shouldn’t have said that. 
It was like a flip switched.
Seizing your moment of weakness, rolling over in the blink of an eye. You sink into the now-soaked mattress as his large hands hold a bruising grip on your wrists, pinning them right above your head. 
He loomed menacingly over you, low whisper hot against your ear and sending shivers down your spine. 
“My turn, pretty girl.”
- GOJO, Choso, OIKAWA, Kuroo, Suna, Tsukishima, ATSUMU, EREN
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A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.
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Well, if you want to be bummed out, talk about trans issues w someone whose only info on trans ppl is what transphobic right wingers have told them
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gay-dorito-dust · 2 months
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Can I request headcanons for Sunday, Welt, Gallagher, Blade, and Dan Heng react to his shy gn s/o asking to kiss him on the lips?
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Blade: finds it adorable. Absolutely adorable when you finally mustered up the courage to ask for what you want.
‘So you do have a voice?’ And or ‘the mouse has finally squeaked.’ Is what he would say with a smirk as he’d watch you get flustered and embarrassed under his gaze.
As much as he teases you for your shyness, he can’t help but feel a sense of pride for you when you took the first step in speaking your mind.
It was nice to know his lessons weren’t going to waste but then again Blade wasn’t one to hold your innate shyness against you, he just wants you to feel as though you could ask him anything without feeling bad about it.
He’s a dick but he’s instantly melting upon feeling your hands cup his face and is in utter bliss when you finally draw him in for a tender, warm kiss. It’s his one slice of heavenly reprieve that he never, ever wants to be deprived of, ever.
God forbid you stop after one kiss, this man will grow lowly and drag you back himself for more because how dare you tempt him with a mere peck, give him at least a hundred more for fuck sake.
Welt: praises you for your bravery in asking as he knows that it’s not exactly an easy thing to do when you’re naturally shy and prone to giving up before you even try.
‘I’d be more than willing to fulfil your wish to the best of my abilities.’
He’s such a gentleman who’s not afraid of going slow just for your comfort if he see you getting overwhelmed by the mere thought of having to take charge when kissing.
You did ask but Welt was more than ready to step in when it was all becoming too much and guides you through it with a soft, low voice and gentle reminders of hand placement and breathing.
He doesn’t want you passing out on him now.
And besides he’s not the type to do anything to you without your permission.
Sunday: raises his brows in amusement.
‘Oh? How bold of you to ask such a thing my dearest.’ Is his response.
It’s like a predatory watching his prey when it comes to Sunday that you were prone to reframe from speaking upon your desires because it always felt as though the Halovian could see through you. Literally.
It triggers your fight of flight response real quick but you have to remind yourself that you were safe with Sunday. (Or are you?)
He’s got that face that told you that he knew what you were going to ask him before you say anything. Whether or not it’s under unsettling is up to you.
He can obviously see that your nervous and stressed about the whole thing and will try to reassure you that neither of you were going anywhere and that you could take your time, he’ll be there whenever you felt comfortable.
He’s in no rush to be anywhere, not when you’re concerned.
Gallagher: originally thinks something is wrong when he saw you stood there unresponsive for a good few minutes, only to blurt out not even a second later, ‘can I kiss you on the lips?’
His worries fade and a smile graced his lips as he chuckled.
‘You almost had me worried there sweetheart but are you sure you want me to kiss you? What if I decide to bite?’ He’d say cheekily and never had he seen you look more flustered than anything. It’s too cute!
You’re giving this man too much power but also making him weak in the knees and want to kneel at your feet and pledge eternal loyalty to you at the same time.
However whatever you want, Gallagher will provide and if you wanted to give him a kiss, then who was he to say no to such a sweet ask?
‘Please.’ You’d add on and Gallagher could swear he melted right then and there. The magic word worked wonders in your favour as he has you sat on his lap, his big hands holding your waist steady as he waits patiently for his kiss, whsilt you felt your face burn all the way up to your ears.
However beware that one kiss becomes a million kisses with this guy as he loves the feel of your lips against his that sometimes he forgets that you both need oxygen to breathe.
Dan Heng: is equally as flustered and embarrassed as you when you asked.
His face is beat red and his eyes were practically bulging out of his head as he then looks away elsewhere and covers the lower half of his face with a hand. Curse you for being so fucking cute and polite!
He’s swears you’ll be the death of him but then again he’s not complaining.
‘Make it quick.’ He’d say but never in a mean way, he’s just genuinely about to combust if you don’t kiss him now and when you do give him a kiss so soft against his lips, you’ll have to shove his face into an ice bath or something with how unnaturally red it is.
You’re both awkward and new at this but that’s what makes every kiss you share afterwards so special and unique.
I wouldn’t put it past Dan Heng is he goes in for another kiss, he’s unabashedly become addicted to the taste of your lips.
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