Met Gala Is Today, So Imagine: Stepping Onto The Red Carpet At The Met Gala In With Your Husband Bakugou.

suna likes to keep fucking you even after you cum. he doesn't care that you're crying, fat tears rolling down your temples as you tremble and whine and claw at his back saying "s'too much, just came! rin, please- ah! too sensitive- g'nna cum again!". christ, woman. just cum again. your pussy has never been tighter and sloppier than ever before. why would he want to stop now? if it's too much, you just need a small push to finish again, right? so he'll keep thrusting into you, hard and fast, head of his cock hitting your favourite spots.

too sensitive? too bad. suna doesn't give a fuck.

idea from this tweet

this is canon.

Suna Rintarou has ignored you for seven hours, twenty-three minutes, and forty-five seconds. Not that you’re counting. He hadn’t looked at you when you waved good morning. Didn’t reply when you texted him during lunch. And now, during practice, he’s pretending you don’t exist—unless it’s to rotate away the second you step near him. Which is why you’ve had it.

You march across the gym floor with fire in your veins, stopping right in front of him during a water break. The rest of the team goes quiet, curious eyes flicking between you and the tall, unbothered middle blocker who’s carefully unwrapping sports tape like it's the most fascinating thing in the world.

“Rin, what the hell is your problem?”

Suna doesn’t even look at you. “I don’t have a problem.”

“Bullshit. You’ve been ignoring me all day.”

He scoffs. “Why don’t you just go hang out with your boyfriend?”

You blink. “I’m sorry— my what now?”

Now he looks at you. Flat expression. Bored tone. “The guy you hugged this morning.”

You stare at him. Then you laugh—one short, incredulous breath. “You mean my little cousin?” 

Suna freezes. A beat. Another beat. A visible oh, shit creeps across his face as the team collectively chokes behind you.

“Oh,” he mutters. “Well. He was… tall.”

You slap his arm. “He’s, like, an inch taller than me. And he was just thanking me for lunch money.”

“Well, it didn’t look innocent,” he grumbles, ears now bright pink.

“Are you serious right now?! You’ve been sulking all day over my cousin?”

He shrugs and drops his gaze. “Didn’t know he was your cousin.”

You narrow your eyes. “And what if he wasn’t?”

Silence. The team holds its breath.

Suna exhales, then mutters, “Then I wouldn’t like it.”

Your heart stutters.

His eyes meet yours again—and this time, he really looks at you. His voice is no longer bored. It’s quiet. Honest. “Seeing you with someone else, I mean.”

You tilt your head, a smile curling on your lips—sharp and smug. "Then do something about it.”

Behind you, Atsumu lets out a low, delighted cackle. “Ohhh, shiiit—she got you.”

You don’t wait for a response. Just turn on your heel, walking out of the gym with your head held high. But not before glancing back once—

And catching Suna frozen in place, face red, as the entire team starts swarming him with grins, whistles, and way too much noise. You smile to yourself.

Let him squirm.

cw: they’re horny n fingers in yn’s mouth lol

there would be times when bakugou’s cooking and he’d ask if you wanna taste the sauce. dipping the tip of his finger in and offering it to your lips.

you accept. sucking his fingers longer than necessary, swirling your tongue around and gazing at him with round doe eyes. so innocent. but he knows what you’re like, causing him to pinch your side and roughly yank his fingers out.

he turns back to the pot to stir, red in the cheeks and body stiff.

“‘m just tryna cook for you ‘nd you’re actin’ all horny in my kitchen.”

then there would be times when he’d offer you a taste of the sauce on his fingers, you giving a quick kitten lick before he twists his wrist around so the pads of his fingers swipe along your tongue, hitting the back of your throat. both your hands go to hold at his wrist at the unexpected movement, eyes wide like a deer in headlights.

“d’you like that baby? d’you like when i give you a taste?”

and you nod.

i think satoru would be mildly irritated if you turn out to be good at giving blowjobs when you suck him off for the very first time because it only means that someone else taught you before him and it fills him with murderous intent to the point where he can’t even finish bc he’s so pissed but it’s going to get you so fucked later out of pure jealousy and frustration that he can’t change the past

stop the clock 𖦹 matsukawa i. x reader

"ill bet you ¥8000 you’ll fall in love by the end of the month." synopsis: when you imagined finally being an adult, working at the convenience store was not what you had in mind. while trying to find a better job is one thing to worry about, matsukawa issei and his persistent flirting is a different one.

tags: matsukawa x fem!reader, mostly written + smau, betting trope, strangers/acquaintances to lovers, one-sided pining, happy ending

warnings: mentions of alcohol, kys jokes, suggestive, language, so much flirting -> check chapter notes for more warnings.

status: ongoing

taglist: open! fill out here.

mlist. 𖦹 pinterest

introductions: cloud 20 + kumonoue market / dickwads + the mosaic

𖦹 day 0: the prologue

𖦹 day 1: the bet

𖦹 day 2… coming soon

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ being wrapped in your arms feels like coming home ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

wc: 1,820

minors / ageless blogs / blank blogs - do not interact.

notes: here is a little drabble in honor of toji’s birthday! this piece was originally titled as “adoration” but I changed it to this instead. I’m taking a small posting break, but I’ll be back to my regular schedule within a week! I’m sorry if I haven’t been responding to tags or messages, but I will do so soon <3 I hope you’re all having a wonderful time and I’m sending all my well wishes out to you! xo

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tags: widow toji; age gap (reader is 30 while toji is in his early 40s); a little angsty; toji attempting to break up with you but failing because he’s oh so in love

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Revived 🥲

For today’s main course, I present Satoru’s back

Bon appetit

in hindsight, tetsurou should have known this was a bad idea—offering you the spare room in his apartment after a breakup.

it’s not that he’s opposed to the idea of living with one of his closest friends. you’ve been tightly entangled in one another’s lives for years, after all. and you’re a far cleaner roommate than bokuto ever was.

the problem is that he’s been so goddamn distracted lately.

the problem is that you’re both single for the first time in a long time.

—the problem is that he’s violently reminded of just how fucked he is when he gets home from work one night to find you vacuuming in nothing but a hardly-there pair of shorts and one of his old nekoma tees. and suddenly he’s wrenching his too-tight tie off from around his neck and gunning it to his room without even saying hello, pressing his palms against his eyes like it’ll erase the mental image of his last name across your back.

(the problem is how fucking badly he wants to kiss you.)