We Should Move In Together (≧◡≦)

I wish I had a pervert boyfriend ((≧◡≦) (≧◡≦)

Thinking about pervert Yuji who loves and adores cutesy, girly girls who are shy and get flustered sooo easily. The ones whose face visibly heats up the second they receive a sudden compliment and cutely stutters their words when he stares them dead in the eye while talking.

The ones who act innocent and pure but their cunts immediately gets wet and aroused by his gross, perverted acts like when he’d quietly creep up behind you while you’re washing dishes and boldly grabs and squeezes two handfuls of your tits—his cock straining in his pants at the involuntary moan that escapes your soft lips as you plead and beg him to stop his assault.

He also loves the ones that are so obsessed and fixated on him that they hump the life-size teddy bear that he gifted you on Valentine’s Day—dragging your needy, wet core on the soft fabric, soaking it with your arousal as the sensation of the material rubbed against your clit in such a delicious way. The shiny, pink jewel plug that matched the color of his hair that you secretly bought because it reminded you of him, peeks out between the curves of your cheeks as the cool metal that stretched you out, jabs deeper against your inner walls as you rocked your hips.

Soft whimpers of desire flow from your glossy lips as your head falls back… your breath hitching with anticipation, “Yujii…fuck, wanna sit on your pretty cock till I make a dirty mess” you moaned sweetly, imagining his fat tip rubbing through your folds—smearing his pre-cum everywhere as your hand instinctively rises to caress your tits—imagining it was his hand, fondling with it in the lewd, perverted manner that he always does it in…

Not aware of the pair of perverted brown eyes lingering from the doorway, practically eye fucking you as he palmed his hardened cock, gently squeezing and teasing it through his pants to feel some type of friction—carefully trying not to make too much noise so you won't notice him because oh he loved the fucking show so much. His face is flushed pink with blush— almost the same color of his hair as you continued moaning out his name and begging him to fuck your little pussy even though, to you he wasn’t there. He tenderly dragged his tongue over his lips—licking it, the second he spots the pretty plug snugly nestled in your asshole. The color immediately catches his eyes—so cute of you to think of him this way. God you were just sooo perfect for him.

–––

“Yujiii, stop don’t– don’t stare please!” You begged shyly, your eyes screwed shut as you buried your face into the Kirby plushies that he bought for you. “Shhh baby, m’just admiring you… your pussy is so cute y’know that? It’s drooling s’muchh for me” he cooed softly, his thumb rubbing smoothen circles on your sticky clit as he stared at the wet white gush slowly steeping out of your pussy. The sensation of his touch was electrifying, sending shivers down your spine as you felt a surge of desire wash over you.

“Mmm s’adorable baby,” he gingerly praises, his warm breath tickling your skin as he eagerly planted wet kisses on different areas of your butt, causing a symphony of soft moans to cascade from your lips. The sensation causes your body to arch slightly in pleasure, making you relaxed yourself.

But that relaxed feeling quickly turned into panic when you felt his glossy pink lips on the entrance of your butthole, he moved both hands to the sides of your ass—spreading your cheeks apart so he can gain a closer view at your tiny o-ring. “Stopp…not there please!” you muttered defeatedly trying to assert your boundaries as his lips continued to press against your fluttering opening.

“But babyyy, I think she likes it—you should see how cutely she’s winking at me…so eager, just like you, pretty girl” he purred playfully, he leaned closer and stuck his pink tongue out and began swirling the tip against your puckered muscles, the slight tingling of the wetness from his tongue sending shivers down your shine as you clenched your hole tightly in response, your hands clutching the sheets as you buried your face further in embarrassment.

He felt as if his cock was about to explode in his boxers as he tried to pry your little hole open but failed miserably—if it was that tight that it couldn’t even handle his tongue, imagine how it’d feel wrapped around every inch of his pulsating length. With the plethora amount of carnal thoughts and dirty ideas racing through his brain...unfortunately for you, it’s going to be a long and forgetful night. Because Yuji always gets what wants, one way or another. :3

This is 💞beautiful💞

MY LIFE BEFORE YOU [ ♡ ]

summary. how jjk men fall in love with single-mom reader.

cw/ tw. fem!reader, fluff, domesticity, brief mentions of pregnancy, mild hurt/ comfort, pining, original child characters, aged-up characters, boss/ employee relationship, mildly suggestive toward the end

featuring. gojo, yuuji, sukuna, megumi, nanami

an. hello, this is an updated repost from my @/satorini blog:3 enjoy! reblogs are appreciated!

✢ GOJO

Being a single mom has its ups and downs, especially when it comes to dating. You can easily recount the times you sat across from a date who looked like they ate something sour after the mention of your daughter, how they paused, spine going stiff—never keen on the type of baggage that comes in small packages.

So it’s only natural to expect the same with Gojo when you tell him on the first date in the back of a coffee shop, wincing internally with a tight grip around your cup. You wait for the awkward laugh, the promise to call you later, even though they never do. 

But then he surprises you.

He smiles—that same one that filled your belly with butterflies the first time you ran into him in the elevator at work—his gaze unexpectedly soft, and he asks, “What’s her name?”

You sip your coffee to distract yourself from that fluttery feeling in your chest. “Ma—um, her name’s Mai.”

Your heartbeat doesn’t slow for hours after that date; you admit you hadn’t expected him to take it in full stride.

Almost two years later, sometimes you still can’t believe it—how he fits so effortlessly in your life, that he’s shown you time and time again that he has no problem treating your daughter like his own.

He calls her princess and treats her like one, too. One day, you walk into the living room to find Mai putting clips in Satoru's hair and unicorn stickers on his face, letting her ramble about her day at daycare (because the afternoon reading circle is apparently very eventful for a bunch of four-year-olds).

On the days he’s off work, you have to keep the fridge stocked with food, or else they’ll eat nothing but sweets all day. And when he does cook, he'll have a chair pushed up to the counter for Mai to see and help—though your kitchen is often left a total mess afterward.

It’s after dinner, Mai tucked into bed, his arms curled around your waist while you scrub a pot, a thumb tracing your abdomen—sweetheart, what if we had another?—and you let yourself think about it. Can’t help it.

This time, you won’t be alone in a delivery room, Satoru’s large hands comfortingly wrapped around yours before holding his newborn for the first time, one with Satoru’s smile and maybe your eyes. Another set of small feet running down the hall for cuddles in the morning… 

You reach down and cup his hand, despite it being covered in sudsy dishwater, though he doesn’t seem to care.

“I think…I think I’d like that.”

✢ YUUJI

He’s always been your best friend; since that time you fell off the swingset when you were six and after you found out you were pregnant and never heard anything back from the father. 

It's possibly the best and worst thing that could have happened to you. 

The best because he’s there for you until the twins come screaming into the world; it’s no surprise they’re just as drawn to his sunny personality as everyone else. Yuuji becomes a shadow at your side in the weeks after, becoming somewhat of a quasi-parent even though you never asked him to, which is why it’s the worst.

Those easy smiles are slowly replaced by the feeling of your heart trembling in your chest whenever you catch him hastily tripping up the stairs to the nursery to wake the twins from their nap. Or when he takes the three of you to the park for a picnic and spends the entire time staring at one of the sleeping little boys on your chest as if they’re doing cartwheels.

You try not to think about it too much unless you want to risk losing Yuuji, to crumble whatever solid foundation your friendship sits on. Plus, why would he want to settle with a single mom anyway?

You’ve seen the girls he’s dated, and none of them walk out of the house wearing a sweater covered in baby food stains, pretty, willowy girls who put a little more effort into their appearance than you have in months. 

And the sadder, more obvious answer is that there’s no way he feels the same about you—sweet, whole-hearted Yuuji who’s friendly to strangers and always willing to help wherever he’s needed. 

You’re no different.

There’s some truth to that, which rapidly disintegrates as the months go on. You can no longer ignore how Yuuji lights up whenever someone accidentally mistakes him for the twin’s father or mentions how cute your family is.

It’s easy to imagine until you’re so wrapped up in thoughts that make you bite back a smile—of coming home to Yuuji napping with the twins on the couch, quiet evenings snuggled up under soft blankets on the couch, kissing him when he leaves for work in the morning—that you nearly miss what he says to the sweet old man who’s been giving Yuuji unsolicited parenting advice, “Maybe she’ll actually say yes when I ask her to marry me someday.”

He’s not looking at you when he says it, but you see how his smile reaches his eyes (soft as if he’s inserted himself into the same future you thought of), and for a moment, you allow yourself to hope. 

✢ SUKUNA

He’s never been the type to want kids of his own, and yet he couldn’t turn a blind eye when you call him nearly two months since that night at his brother’s birthday party—hazily remembering you telling him you’re one of Yuuj’s friends before he took you back to his place—to tell him you’re pregnant.

“You don’t have to be there. I just thought you should know,” you say wetly.

“Jesus—” he sighs, scrubbing a hand down his face. He doesn’t think the employee breakroom at the gym is the right place to have this conversation. “Listen, don’t cry. I’ll be there, alright? Whatever you need.”

Sukuna at least thought he’d actually be with the person he has a kid with. Over the next four years, that couldn’t be further from the truth.

There’s a lot that’s undesirable about the situation, like the fact that every time he walks out of his room, he always ends up stepping on Legos because you insist on buying Hana more and leave them at his place, or that he can't eat anything these days without a small hand reaching out for his food.

But the one thing that really makes his blood curdle is whenever he has Hana for the weekend, and she rambles through a mouthful of mac n’ cheese about how you and Yuuji took her to the park, with more stories about Yuuji this and Yuuji that.

He should be grateful his brother is such a doting uncle, yet he grinds his teeth the longer his daughter prattles on.

Out of everything, this is the one thing he chooses to find an issue with: high-school sweetheart Yuuji, pictures of him found in frames all over your house; helpful and supportive, perfectly polite, always-nice-to-be-around-Yuuji who everyone gravitated towards, even you, it seems.  

He tells himself it’ll go away eventually, that strange pit of jealousy festering in his chest like an open wound. It doesn’t.

Sukuna spends so much time thinking about it that he’s thoroughly annoyed by the time you stop by to pick up Hana for the week. 

“Did you guys have a nice weekend? You seem…” Of course, you’d pick up on his shitty mood. “Upset.”

“I’m fine,” he grumbles, hoping you’ll leave it alone.

You don’t.

“Listen, if this is about Friday, I told you Yuuji’s okay dropping her off.”

“I bet he is,” Sukuna sneers, shoving the last of Hana’s Legos into her bag.

You huff. “What is your problem?”

“Nothing, but I have a feeling you’ll run back to Yuuji and tell him about it anyway.”

“Are you seriously jealous of your brother?”

He scoffs but doesn’t answer.

“If you want to be with me so badly, just say it.” You put your hands on your hips. “Go on, say it.”

Obviously, you’re joking (at least, maybe a little, the unsure smile on your face wavering), but he’s not.

In the end, he breaks first. Wrapping his hand around the back of your neck, he presses his mouth to yours, fingers flexing at your little gasp. When he breaks the kiss, panting a little, he says, “I want to be with you, and I want to raise my fucking kid with you. Happy?”

There’s a scandalized gasp, and he looks down to find Hana standing there with her sandals on the wrong feet, blinking up at him with round eyes. 

“Daddy, that’s a bad word.”

“Listen here, brat—” you pinch his side. “Ow.”

✢ MEGUMI

He admits he doesn’t know what he’s doing, not when it comes to being a parent. The best-dad-of-the-year didn’t exactly exist in his household growing up, considering his dad was never really around.

There’s a learning curve when it comes to four-year-olds and what they’re interested in; he discovers this the hard way when he bores your son to sleep by talking about mundane adult topics. He thinks you’re only trying to make him feel better by saying Rin never takes naps for anyone.

It festers, that feeling of inadequacy, between daycare pick-ups and co-parenting with Rin’s father—who happens to be a pediatrician, no less, while Megumi’s been working the same dead-end desk job for almost a decade—until he has his first win on a trip to the beach.

He teaches Rin how to make sand castles the way he and Tsumiki used to when they were kids. That’s apparently enough to win your son over, and he doesn’t know how to react the first time Rin calls him dad—second dad, he tells his teacher at school, but still dad. He thinks he might’ve looked at you in shock while soft giggles escaped your lips.

There’s still that underlying need to prove himself: to you, to Rin. That he can get along with your ex-husband and figure out the ins and outs of being a parent now that another set of feet will be waking him up in the middle of the night.

He would never admit it out loud, but Megumi can’t help the way his heart beats a tattoo into his ribcage at the glimpse of the engagement ring adorning your left hand as you drink your coffee—proof that you are willing to be his for as long as you’ll have him, and that…does something to him. It has him thinking about you holding a bouquet, of you smoothing that same hand over a steadily growing belly.

Every day, it amazes him how something so small—something that used to have no real purpose at the back of his sock drawer until you let him slip it onto your finger—can hold his whole future in its shining stones and delicate silver band.

Sometimes, Megumi can’t wrap his head around the fact that you still want him even though he’s still figuring things out, and his words don’t come out sappy like in those romance novels you enjoy so much—that he isn’t the best with feelings, yet he tries so hard to be a little more vulnerable for you.

It took him so many years to realize that this is what being in love feels like, and he’d be an idiot if he ever let you go.

“Megumi,” you say softly, noticing that he’d stopped making breakfast. “Are you okay?”

He brings his gaze up from your hand to meet your wide doe eyes. So pretty, he thinks, and all his. His mouth quirks into a not-quite smile, helping Rin pour more batter onto the skillet. “Yeah. Better than okay.”

✢ NANAMI

The first time he meets you, one of the associates for his company introduces you as his wife—a fresh-eyed college student who’s more concerned about staring at other women at the business function than the beautiful one on his arm—and he kindly shakes your hand, watching you give such devoted attention to a man undeserving of it.

What would it be like to be loved like that?

A few years trickle by before he sees you again, except this time, there’s no ring on your finger, and you’re in the middle of walking into his office for an interview with a little boy balanced on your hip.

“Sorry, my babysitter called in sick, and I couldn’t find a replacement in time—Oh.” It’s in that small moment between closing the door and hauling a diaper bag up your shoulder that you recognize him, too. “I didn’t realize you were the one doing the interview.”

He arches a brow. “No?”

“Sorry…again. I didn’t mean it like that, and I’m usually not this unprepared.” You set the toddler down on the floor and straighten out your skirt, giving him a shy, pretty smile.

Nanami swallows and gestures to the seat in front of his desk. “He can stay.”

While he asks you questions, your son—Haru, he learns—keeps busy with a coloring book you give him, and before you leave after the interview, he silently proffers Nanami a sheet of paper filled with yellow and green crayon squiggles. 

He tacks it to the corkboard wall next to his desk.

When you start working as his office assistant, he never brings up the topic of your ex-husband. It’s obvious the man doesn’t care about his family, anyway—not when you show up most days looking worn out. 

It starts to burn in his chest, the way your eyes drop sometimes, the little reassuring nod he’ll catch you giving yourself after what must’ve been a rough morning. 

Nanami knows he’s in way over his head when he asks you out for coffee; how surprised he is you say yes, which leads to more dates until he slowly finds that smile of warm devotion aimed in his direction.

Eventually, your things fill the empty spaces in his home, and the spare room in his house becomes a nursery. His once quiet mornings of reading the paper are now pleasantly disrupted by the smell of pancakes and Haru trying to climb into his lap to read with him. 

The first time Haru asks for Nanami after a nightmare—rubbing his wet eyes while standing near Nanami's side of the bed in his shark pajamas, sans one sock, until Nanami scoops him up and deposits him between you—he winces (because he doesn’t want it to seem like he’s taking something away from you) before he notices the soft smile curling your mouth. 

He can’t pretend to fully understand why you ever agreed to that first date when the odds weren’t terribly in his favor, but he has a long time to learn, and right now, he’s focused on other things.

"Quiet, dove,” he murmurs, kissing your temple. “You're going to wake the baby..." 

AAAHHHH\(^ヮ^)/\(^ヮ^)/

NSFW

You yawned, smiling sleepily as you felt the familiar warmth of your Werewolf!Husband’s tongue lapping at your cunt.

“Happy Mother’s Day, princess…” he murmured against your clit, looking up at you with those pretty brown eyes of his. “Wanted to start your day off right…”

A contented sigh left your lips, your cheeks warm and your stomach tingly as his tongue slipped into you. “Mmph, that’s it… ah, thank you baby…”

You had recently become the mother of a litter of pups, three in total. Currently, they were asleep in the nursery across the hall. They were all now 7 months old, starting to walk and talk. You knew werewolf pups were a bit more advanced than human babies, but you hadn’t been expecting them to be running around so early!

“I’ll be taking care of the pups today, so don’t worry at all.”

Your husband brought you over the edge several times, his red cock bobbing between his legs. Despite his obvious arousal, he left it alone, tending to your needs.

“Such a good pup…” you cooed, gently playing with his fluffy hair. “My pretty boy, wanna knot me?”

From the way his cock bobbed violently, you knew his answer.

Your husband had you pinned in a second, growling lowly into your ear. “Pretty mate, already want another litter of pups? Gonna make you a mommy all over again…”

So you spent Mother’s Day a bit sore and full of cum, but competent satisfied.

( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

missionary but you keep apologizing for being loud so he tells you to “stop fucking apologizing” and tilts your head so your mouth is lined up with his ear and just fucks you harder

Interviewer : Mr. Dynamight, Mr Dynamight, why do you call your wife honey bun?

Bakugou: Cause her pussy is extra sticky when I eat it. Next question.

I don’t know who needs to hear and understand this but your favorite anime characters eat black women ass DAILY. Matter of fact, I’ll even take it a step further and say they love black women so much— just as much as any other women.

Since people hate when black women write about their favorite anime characters loving them😑

reader biting bakugo’s muscles? 🥹

I LIKE THIS, esp cs he got some big muscles.

Boyfriend! Katsuki Bakugo x Reader

———————————————————————————

Imagine this. Normally on a Thursday night you would be waiting on the couch for your boyfriend Katsuki to come home after his patrol.

As of right now, things were different. At 11:34 pm on a Thursday night, you’re laying on your boyfriend’s muscular chest whilst watching a random spider man movie. Your cheek was smushed against his chest. His arms were around your head, and around your waist, you were sure your eyes were drooping.

The yawn you let out caught the older man’s attention, looking away from the large tv to look down at you. A small grin appeared on his face, which turned into bored expression aswell as a tsk coming out of his lips.

“you wanted to watch this stupid movie, now your sleeping on it? C’mon baby, you can do better than that.” He coo’s, kissing your temple.

You scoffed in response, rubbing your eyes. Yet the heat building up in your chest continued to rise, as well as the beats in your heart.

“shut up, ‘m jus more tired than usual, kats.” The sentence that was let out was more of a mumble than an actual straight up response. That’s how your boyfriend knew you were tired.

Your boyfriend snorted in response. “You better stay the fuck awake.. ‘already so long into the movie.” He paused, taking in the scene in-front of him.

“oh.. the girlfriend is falling.” A gruesome expression appears on his face as he watches her fall.

Usually you’d be awake for this type of stuff, but your eyes were struggling to stay open.

With the little amount of strength you had left in you, your e/c orbs darted to Katsukis meaty arms. You hadn’t noticed how toned it was, considering that he was only in a wife beater.

Though you could barely move, the only movement you made was moving your head from off his chest, to his arm. Taking a chomp out of the area that you felt was the most appropriate.

Chomp!

Katsuki didn’t flinch, instead he paused the movie and looked down at you who was biting the fuck out of his bicep.

“You little shit— did you just fuckin bite me??” Katsuki grumbles, lightly shaking you off so you would stop biting him.

A bite mark was left on his bicep, it didn’t hurt. Obviously it didn’t hurt, or caused any problems to your boyfriend. But he was concerned on how why you did it.

You grinned in response, rubbing on the bite mark before kissing it.

“Sorry suki, y’ur arms are just s’ unresistible.” You moaned in sastisfsction, head snuggling deeper into his chest.

He rolled his eyes, propping two fingers on your chin to force you to look at him.

“You’re stupid, dunno how I ended up with you.” Katsuki grumbled, placing a few kisses on your eager, pretty lips.

“You love me” you smiled, kissing his red cheek.

“you know i do, sweets.”

As he thought everything was over, you placed one last kiss to his cheek. Before biting the soft, chubby part.

Katsukis eyes widened, eyebrows scrunching in annoyance.

“You’re going to be the fuckin death of me, ‘little brat..” He uttered, repeatedly whilst you giggle the night away.

Even if he was grumpy, his arms always found a way to hug you tighter. The whole night was spend giggling, having fun, biting, all of the above. The movie was long forgotten.

Even if you kept biting him, all he wanted was a soothing kiss on the bite. That’s because he loves you.

Even if your a pain in the ass.

My man doesn’t get enough love ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

Category: Villain

shigaraki x afab!reader

tags: grinding, fingering, virginity loss (tomura's), more experienced reader, praise kink if you squint

warnings: this is a smut fic. | 18+ | MDNI / Ageless blogs DNI

wc: 2.2k

a/n: this is a character study wrapped in a smutty bow. Pre-MVA characterization. this is also my second time writing smut, pls go easy on me

happy birthday tomura baby <3

Tomura had been branded as a freak the instant he killed his entire family at only five-years old. It was a mark that stood stark against the surface of his pale skin, its burn traveling through every layer of skin and flesh, down to the bone. Even as a mere child, he was always treated like some sort of monster. The kind of guy you'd see coming and cross to the other side of the street. Someone you'd worry about following you home. A degenerate. A creep. A villain.

With All For One's guidance, he had learned to embrace these views of himself at a very young age. No one would ever help him, no hero or bystander. He was a villain, after all. And if he couldn't be anything but a disgusting villain, he might as well be the most disgusting villain in Japan.

His views changed when you stumbled into his life. At first, he didn't know how to react to you. To your kindness. You would tease him, call him cute. You were somehow capable of drawing out a softness in him—the part of him that wanted to pet every dog he saw out on a walk. The part of him that wanted to hold your hand. Parts of him he thought died with his family.

Growing up, Tomura was obsessed with villains. The kind that killed and destroyed. This obsession was found in all forms of media; comic books, television shows, and as he soon found, porn.

The villain stereotyping for porn was…interesting. Brutal and careless, the kind of person who took, not gave. A selfish lover, if one could even use that word. Reality didn't always equal fiction. And Tomura was a real villain, forged in iron and blood, not an over exaggerated caricature of evil. He hated how soft he felt when he was with you. How softly he wanted to fuck you.

It wasn't supposed to be this way. He was a villain, someone who wanted utter destruction, not for selfish reasons, but for the betterment of society, for fucks sake. Villains were harsh. Cruel. Possessing a ruthlessness and violence that was incongruent with affection or tenderness. All media, all stereotyping, should have made him merciless. His pornographic counterpart would have you folded over, cruelly pounding away at your cunt in a mating press, uncaring and unconcerned about the possible effects of decay from where his hands pressed below your knees.

It wasn't just that he was scared of hurting you, it was that a fear that he'd become the thing everyone expected him to be—cruel, uncaring, selfish—and those traits would come out when he was with you. With the ones he loved. Your love for Tomura came easy. Getting him to love himself came harder.

It started slow on your insistence of his comfort—long make out sessions in abandoned buildings that left both your lips red and swollen and his cock straining beneath his boxers, a wet spot on the front as evidence of his arousal. He always felt guilty after; dark finger-shaped bruises from where he gripped your ass and thighs tightly, desperate to feel your skin even through his artists gloves. Slowly though, he began to realize that you didn't exactly mind, often guiding his hands exactly where you wanted them, admiring the marks he made in the mirror.

It was during one of these sessions where things got a bit heavier than normal. You were sat, straddled over his lap, his hands kneading your ass under the hem of your shorts, when you suddenly and involuntarily jerked, grinding into his dick, hard beneath his black pants. From the way you shuddered and moaned into his mouth, the friction must have gone directly to your clit.

"God—sorry," you gasped.

Sliding his hands up to your hips, Tomura guided you over his cock, rocking his hips into yours.

"Don't be," He panted into your mouth.

Your pussy was so warm through the fabric of his pants as you began to grind your clit over his length, hard against his thigh. You looked so beautiful like this—moans escaping your lips as your face contorted in pleasure. You looked like you wanted him to fuck you.

Suddenly he was twitching in his pants, hot, wet cum soaking the fabric of his jeans, a choked whimper escaping his mouth.

He couldn't hear anything over the sound of yours and his breathing, coming out in short, quick breaths, his heartbeat in his ears.

Tightening his grip on your waist, he looked up at you. You had a satisfied, almost smug looking smile on your face. Leaning in to kiss him again, you murmured against his lips. "Whatever you want to do, I trust you." Suddenly he wasn't what people thought of him. He was a villain, yes, but he was capable of things no stereotyped reflection of himself would be able to do. He could fuck you hard if he wanted. But softly? He was allowed to do that as well, and it didn't make him any less of a villain.

Placing his hand on your lower back, he turned and sat up, flipping you onto your back on the couch. "Can I finger you?"

Your pupils dilated, large and dark with want. "Please." He wished he wasn't wearing his stupid gloves, that way he could decay your shorts and underwear off for quicker access. He wished he could control his quirk better. He wished a lot of things. He let you unbutton them, helping you tug them down and off the rest of the way.

"Someone's impatient," you laughed, breathy, as you spread your legs, bent at the knee.

He felt his face flush even further, if that was possible. "Shut up."

Slowly, he slid his ring finger over your folds, relinquishing in the way you shuddered from the touch, not from fear of him, but out of anticipation. Desire. A craving only he could satisfy. He licked his dry, cracking lips, smiling as he slowly slid his ring finger in all the way, coating it in a wetness that clung to his skin. He didn't know it'd be so.. soft. Warm.

His middle finger, clad in the fabric of his glove, went in next. You opened so easily, evidence of your arousal. Arousal for him. He felt his dick twitch in his pants. Curling his fingers up, he felt a small sense of pride course through him at the way you gasped. He pistoned his fingers in and out, focused on on your sweet spot, a wet, squelching noise filling his ears, combined with your soft moans and keens. Just for him. Because of him.

He grinned as your whines increased in pitch and frequency, your hands coming up to pull him down into a kiss as you tightened around his fingers as you came.

He made sure to get condoms on the next supply run.

It was a miracle you both were able to find a mattress that wasn't piss or blood-soaked, covered in questionable stains, or torn in the middle. The two of you managed to sequester some time alone, adding onto the list of current miracles leading to this moment.

Shaking, Tomura's hands wrapped around the condom, the lubrication from it wetting and sticking to his palm and fingers as he unrolled it over his length. A million thoughts raced through his head. What if his dick was too small? What if you thought it was ugly? Could a dick be ugly?

You were patiently watching him from on the bed, legs bent to the side. From the way your eyes widened when he stripped off his t-shirt and kicked his pants and boxers aside, he supposed he could toss the "small" and "ugly" insecurity in the trash. There was an obvious air of lust and affection in your gaze as your eyes traversed the planes of his body. He bristled, feeling undeserving of your gaze.

"Do you have to watch me so intently?"

You laughed at how his embarrassment only reddened him further. "I can look away if you want," the smile on your lips turned playful, mirth glinting in your eye. His brow furrowed as he was certain whatever words came next were meant to embarrass him further.

"But you have a pretty dick, so I'll keep watching if you don't mind."

"Shut up," he groaned despite his own smile as he lightly pushed you to lie back on the bed, your laughter singing in his ears before silenced by his lips on yours. His cock, hot and heavy, tapped against the plane of your stomach as he crawled over you, caging your body in with his.

He felt a smug sense of satisfaction as he pinched your nipple with one hand, making you gasp into his mouth. "You're the pretty one."

Separating for air, he sat up, leaning back on his calves. Your cunt was covered in a sheer layer of your arousal, pretty and flushed. Sliding his fingers in just like before, he scissored them against your soaked walls, stretching you out in preparation. Once sufficiently stretched, he lined the head of his cock up to your entrance. Slowly, he thrust in with a low groan, eyes rolling back. You were somehow warmer, tighter around his length than his fingers. You gasped, fisting the blanket underneath you as he pushed in, inch by inch, until he bottomed out.

He looked down at where the two of you connected, blue tufts of hair trailing down to the shaft of his cock, swallowed by your tight hole.

"It's, uh-," Tomura panted, face strained from behind the light blue strands of hair that curtained off the planes of his cheeks, "-a lot tighter than expected."

He looked ethereal like this, a flushed, peachy hue painting his skin down to his bare chest. "Yeah," you sighed, pushing his hair behind his ears. "Take your time. I need a second, too."

Your thumb traced over the planes of his face, over the rough texture of the scar on his lip. His hips jerked as he kissed your thumb, leaning down to kiss your lips, gloved hands creating waves over the blankets like sand dunes in a desert.

For a moment he lingered, lost in the saccharine taste of your tongue and the syrupy wetness between your legs as your walls pulsed and clenched around his dick, the vibrations of your moans making his lips tingle. All the porn in the world wouldn’t have prepared him for how tender and warm this felt, the soft expanse of your thighs grounding him and keeping him close.

Slowly he began to move his hips, relishing in the way your sex gripped his cock, the friction of your pussy against every vein and nerve slowing and streamlining his thoughts to follow one command: faster.

His hips sped up, chasing the friction his nerves so desired. He became enraptured by your face- every twitch between your brows, every noise or whimper you made, the way your face contorted when he hit just the right spot. He felt high off it, the expanse of your pleasure evident from every ridge and valley of your face, contorted and shifting with every moan. Chasing the high, he shifted the angle of his hips, your moans increasing in pitch as one hand grasped at the base of his neck, gently tugging at the hairs at his nape, the other rubbing circles into your clit.

"Please—you're so good, you feel so good—" you gasped, voice coming out choked around every thrust. His brain lagged from the praise, a brief stutter in his hips as his thoughts clipped through his head.

"Can you get on top."

"Yeah," you laughed, breathy with amusement at his reaction. Flipping over, you sunk down on his length, somehow deeper than he was before, with a low groan. "Oh fuck." Slowly you began to move your hips, grinding your swollen, puffy clit over the whispy hairs leading down to his shaft, an arousal and slickness that mixed between the two of you leaking down onto his skin. He wished he could feel it on his cock, how sticky and wet you were as you surrounded him. He bet it felt perfect.

His hands grasped around your hips as you rode him, face flushed and sweaty, chest and beading with droplets of sweat. From this angle, his dick was hitting the perfect spot, making you see stars. A tightness in your belly grew as you increased your pace, riding him with a fervor as you approached your orgasm. You stilled as your pussy fluttered around him, tightening as you unraveled. He was close before, but as you tightened, the dam broke. With a final thrust, he spilled hot bursts of cum into the condom, his grip tight around your soft hips.

You slumped against him, bare tits pressed into his chest, forehead nestled into the crook of his neck. A wave of calm serenity washed over him as he pressed a kiss into your hairline, lightly muscled arms wrapping snug around your back.

You sighed, content, mumbling into his neck.

"I love you."

He felt his dick twitch from where it still lay inside you. "We're doing that again later."

\(^ヮ^)/\(^ヮ^)/ so cute

A/N: This is a longer version of this story and it’s purely self-indulgent (like 99% of my stories lol). Enjoy!

Set up by a baby-orc

Orc x fem!reader || sfw, meet-cute, possibly soulmates

There was a little orc pulling at your hand, taking you with him to the door. "Come on, teacher, come with me." You let him drag you out, chuckling at his insistence.

He was such a cute kid, you knew you shouldn’t have favorites, but some kids made your heart all soft because they were just so fucking cute. And the tiny orc dragging you to the door was one of them. He was so shy when the school started, and in only a month he’d come out of his shell so much you couldn’t be anything but proud.

"Where to? I have job to do, hon, the other kids might need me," you tried, amused at his antics. But he wasn’t having any of that, grabbing your hand stronger and pulling until you follow after him with a laugh.

"You need to meet him!" He insisted, pulling harder and making you wince internally. Baby monsters had an amazing amount of strength even when tiny, you had to remind them to be careful with the humans, especially with you. Ouch.

"Who?" You asked, genuinely curious, following along with him out of the school and into the little patio where the parents and guardians could wait until the little ones were ready to go.

"My uncle!" He exclaimed, pointing across the patio with his tiny chubby green hand. You walk next to him for a few more steps before you look up.

You were about to tell him you couldn't get out of the school when you looked up and faces the prettiest orc you've ever set your eyes on. He was looking at you with the same level of amazement, and something inside of you just... knew.

You walked like a zombie next to the baby orc, not even registering what he was babbling about next to you as he pulled you along until you were right in front of him. You had to look up, and up, and up to be able to stare at his face, but you felt like it was too much, too soon, and ended up looking back down to the baby who was still talking animatedly.

“I told you she was human! Look! Look! Her skin is not green!” He sounded so excited you couldn’t do anything but laugh as his uncle blushed in the greenest green, making him look impossibly cute, probably even cuter than his nephew.

“I can see that,” he said in a low voice, so deep and so growly that made you want to press your legs together. You bite your lip not to giggle when his eyes fixated on you. He had such dark eyes you felt like he could see into your soul, and when he focused his sole attention on you for a fraction of a second, you felt your heart-beat spiking, your mouth suddenly very dry.

“Isn’t she pretty? She doesn’t have tusks like me!” He says it as if that’s such a feat and you have to cover your mouth to avoid laughing out loud.

“Yours will grow eventually, though,” he explained, kneeling on the floor so he was closer to the kid’s height even if that’s not near close to the baby sized orc. He was on his knees and he still was a couple centimeters taller than you. Your inner size queen was screaming very loudly.

“They will?!” The baby sounded so shocked that you choked on your saliva trying to avoid laughing.

“Yes, hon, yours will grow until they are as big as your uncle’s,” you explained, touching his head affectionately.

You tried to avoid looking at his uncle, but every time you caught a sight of him on the corner of your eye you felt a shiver ran down your spine. You were shivering with the need to touch him, even if it was just a poke in the cheek, and you had to physically close your hand to avoid doing exactly that.

You didn’t know what was with him or why you were feeling like only looking at him, took all the air out of your lungs, but you were giddy and shy about it. You didn’t know what to do or what to say. “I should go back to the kids,” you let out, breathless after looking at him for less than ten seconds.

“Yeah. Yes. I guess so.” You were walking back to the school when he said behind you: “I’ll be seeing you again… that’s a promise,” his gruff tone made you shiver as you smiled as big as the sun, not daring to turn around and look at him one last time.

But when you were about to enter, you turned around slightly and saw him still on his knees, looking intently at his nephew as the baby told him something. He looked up and your eyes met, and your breath got caught in your throat, your heart beating fast and your face flushed. He smiled at you with his beautiful tusked mouth, and you almost had to fan yourself, smiling back as you ran inside, your hand on your chest trying to calm your frantic heart.

Maybe the kid had a point about meeting his uncle.

A/N: Let me know if you want a part 2 of this, if enough ppl is interested I’ll write it.

wolfcut megs🙉😍🙉

Ac: Qikiix

HI HES SO PERFECT IM SCREAMIGN HOLY😍😍😍😍 I NEED THIS MAN LIKE RNNN HELLO WHAT WHO ALLOWED HIM TO BE THIS FINE