Having Shiu Nd Higuruma Thoughts Too. Btw.

whoa actually breathless from this one yall holy shit i think i’m gonna die

Nanami Kento is the kind of man who always makes sure his lady’s nails are done. He doesn’t care the shape nor color, just that you get his initials on your ring finger each time, an unofficial token of your love — until he gets you the real thing, of course.

He grows utterly weak in the knees whenever you get them obscenely long or a little pointy (bonus points if you get gems or sparkly glitter.) He loves how confident it makes you feel, how your eyes gleam with elated gratitude whenever he presents you with his credit card or a wad of bills, suggesting you take the day for yourself.

Amongst the few, minute joys that lurk on this godforsaken planet, there is nothing that makes Nanami happier than when his favorite girl spends his hard earned money. He even asked you to resign from your job because he makes enough for the both of you. He hates to see you working anyway, he is a provider after all. What did you expect?

He’d wait ever so patiently for you to come back home. Watching the news or cooking a warm, heartfelt dinner, keeping himself occupied as we awaits your return, just imagining what it is you bought this time — lingerie? New shoes? Hours later, when you’re finally stumbling through the door with several overflowing shopping bags, a fresh set of acrylics, and a beaming smile, his cock swells.

Of course he’ll have you try on everything you bought, it’s only right. It’s his money after all, he just wants to ensure that it’s been well spent. Slouched lazily in an armchair, he’d gawk, shamelessly admiring his pretty girl. Gaunt legs sprawled idly as his head cocks to the right, a slow, sleazy grin twisting his lips. The trail of his sharp gaze warm and unwavering as you strip for him. Every once in a while, the amber of the overhead light reflects off of the gems that adorn your nails, the subtle glint catching attention.

A deep, audible groan ensues each time you peel off a garment of clothing, only to replace it with another, giving him his own, private runway show. His knee would bounce in anticipation, poor, aching cock growing impossibly harder by the minute and you can tell; you can see the way it strains against the restricting fabric of his slacks, begging to be taken care of. He can’t help but to reach out for you, his big, greedy hands finding purchase at the thick of your hips to pull you close, claiming that he just wants to see your nails a bit better, but that’s what he always says.

And it’s always harmless, benign. That is until you inevitably end up with his drooling cock lodged in the very back of your throat, sinful bubbles of saliva escaping from the corners of your tautly stretched lips. He’d hold you hand endearingly, babbling on about how pretty your nails are, how much it turns him on when you spend his money, how he promises to spoil you for the rest of your life.

God, it’s taking every fiber of his being not to fish for his wallet and spread a hefty stack of blue striped bills across the ample fat of your ass. The mere thought makes his cock twitch, heavy hips pushing forward, forcing himself deeeep down your slutty little throat, a thick stream of arousal pooling against your tastebuds.

He whines. “Fuuuuucck,” huffing out a strangled breath, an unintentional gasp following, “sweetheart, you are sooo perfect… such perfect throat, godddd… the way you’re looking u-up at me.” Nanami groans, blindly reaching for your hand, dragging it toward his slick, parted lips, “need to marry you — swear to fuckin’ god m’gonna marry you.” His tongue is whorishly lolling out before he’s drawing your fingers in deep, drooling down all of your pretty knuckles.

You're audibly sputtering around him in agreement, saliva spilling down your chin and pooling near the fat of his swollen balls. Gag after helpless gag reverberates from your occupied mouth, the poor, weeping head sinking deeper and deeper with each subtle buck of his hips, painting your throat in haphazard spurts of precum. He needs you like this forever, to take his cock like this forever. He'd give anything to make you his slutty, little wife forever and ever and —

“Pleasepleaseplease tell me you wanna marry me too,” he whines, warm, eager tongue wrapping so possessively around your ring finger, pulling it into his mouth, "oh, god please tell me you want that. I need you forever, baby... need this pretty little mouth forever.” His thick, blonde brows furrow so sweetly, voice strained and so plainly conquered by his evident love.

Physically, you can't respond and he knows; he's deliberately tucking himself deeper, the neat tufts of hair that adorn his girthy base tickling your chin. All you can offer him is a loud, helpless gag as you nod and he whimpers in relief. Yesyesyes, I'll marry you, is all he hears, your obedient, glassy eyes a testament.

So, why are you surprised when he’s hastily fetching a small, velvet box from the pocket of his discarded slacks, cracking it open in fervid anticipation, his cock resting heavily against your tongue? You said yes, right?

mdni pls :3

literally leaning out of the shower rn to say that i think suguru has the most gorgeous dick ever. like ohhhhh my god ik hes thick nd hard to take OMFG I JUST KNOWWWWW IT

the most beautiful happy trail ever, curved up a lil bittttt ohhhh my godbjnkwmw

alr yall would u guys jump me if i posted stepcest

This is gonna sound pathetic as fuck but i really wanna be friends with one of your moots but im too shy to approach them

WAITTTTT I DIDNT SEE THIS!!!!!!!! nonnie that’s not pathetic at all asking to be mooties w someone is soooooo daunting sometimes </3 feel free to dm me if u ever need to, id be happy to talk to them for u if you’d like!!!! :DD

hihihi guyssss!!

mdni!! <3

just here to say that satoru would fall into a five minute long giggle fit after cumming rlly hard. like voice cracking, stomach hurting, tears in his eyes giggling. and don’t u even dare look at him as he’s going thru this bc he’ll only start laughing harder. hes delirious and pussydrunk and just fully braindead so don’t even question him!! ^^ he would never laugh at u dw ^3^

mdni!! ( ´ ▽ ` )

oughhh thinking abt choso sucking strap. oughhhhhh

cw’s: gn! reader (reader is afab), (very light) dacryphilia, mentions of drool/spit/gagging and uhhh i think that’s it!! ^^

he was a little confused by your proposition at first but he agreed quickly after you explained. if it was something that would make you feel good why would he say no?

“so it’s just… the same way you do it to me?” his voice is soft when he speaks, his hands lightly running over the skin of your thighs as if trying to ground himself just by touching you. he looks so small from this position, on his knees while not-so subtly eyeing the piece of silicone fixed to your pelvis. it was… strange. different. but he couldn’t bring himself to really mind it. if the way his cock was already twitching in his pants said anything, you would say he was just as excited as you were.

you nod in response, bringing a hand up to graze over his jaw. he looks up at you with the small touch, so attentive and hyperaware of every one of your actions. “take it as slow as you need, cho. i don’t want you to overwhelm yourself.” you reminded him gently. he had a habit of getting overexcited and — as endearing as it was — it usually ended with you having to force him to slow down so he could have a chance to recover. cute, but you were worried about him hurting himself in this specific scenario.

“i’ll be careful.” he reassured you, his voice a hoarse whisper as his eyes drifted back down to your strap-on. his movements were careful when he brought a hand up to wrap around the base of your cock, his eyes wide and watching your reactions as his tongue tentatively kitten-licked around the tip. the heady look you were giving him must’ve given him more confidence because soon enough he was wrapping his lips around the silicone of your dick, the tip tapping against the inside of his cheek while he practiced the shallow back and forth motion that had sent his eyes rolling to the back of his head whenever you did it to him.

you hadn’t even realized your hand had moved to rest at the top of his head until his eyes had met yours, snapping you out of the small daze you had fallen into. he looked so pretty, so desperate for your approval even when his mouth was filled with your cock. he made sure to keep his motions slow as he took you deeper and deeper, allowing his throat to adjust to the new intrusion. his hands unconsciously gripped at your thighs, the pads of his fingers creating small divots in the plush skin while he took you deep enough for the tip of his nose to kiss! against the bottom of your tummy.

he held that position, his eyes desperately searching yours for approval while his nose remained smushed against your pelvis. you moved your hand to push his bangs back, a soft groan leaving you when you saw the tears dotting his lashline. “doin’ so good, cho. look so pretty takin’ my dick down your throat.” you swore you could feel the way his throat constricted around the silicone when he let out a small whimper at your words, a breathy curse leaving your lips at the deep, almost shocking warmth that filled your stomach.

you almost whined when you saw him start to move again, your head falling back in an attempt to get away from the sinful view in front of you so you could catch your breath. you could feel everything if you focused hard enough. the tight warmth of his throat, the soft vibrations of his moans when you gripped at his hair, the way his throat tightened with every small gag and bob of his head.

“fuck my throat.” his hoarse little whisper cut through your thoughts, his hands holding an almost bruising grip on your thighs. you could only breathe out a small, dumb “huh?” before he repeated himself. “fuck my throat, please… wanna know how it feels when i do it to you.” his hands massaged your thigh like he was trying to persuade you to say yes (as if you’d ever say no to an offer like that).

you nodded eagerly as soon as his words registered in your dazed brain, your breath hitching when he started taking you down his throat again. you let him readjust before starting with slow, shallow thrusts. you had to get used to the new rhythm just as much as he had to get used to the new sensation, but the both of you got the hang of it quickly.

your moans were unrestrained when you started speeding up your movements, choso’s teary eyes and soft gags as he struggled to take you sending you practically hurdling towards the edge. “gonna cum, cho… gonna fill up your pretty throat with my cum.” your words were strained and desperate, your thrusts becoming more and more sloppy as that warmth in your stomach finally unraveled. you threw your head back in a silent scream as your hips pushed forward, your tip bumping against the back of choso’s throat. everything felt warm and deep and oh-so intense, your hips rhythmically spasming as you came down from your high.

you pulled out of your boyfriends throat, your lips forming a small o when you saw the trail of saliva that connected his lips to the silicone. your hand moved to cup his cheek, lightly guiding him to look at you. “you okay, cho? was i too rough?” your voice was hazy from your orgasm but your eyes studied him as intently as you could manage.

he nodded meekly, his hands folded in his lap and pressed against his aching cock.

poor baby… might as well return the favor, right?

I need your advice pukicho! What would you do if you found out a friend of yours was a trump supporter?

I'd drop them. The time for playful disagreements has long-since past. You don't get to vote for the guy who makes concentration camps and crashes airplanes and think a "haha my bad" is gonna cut it as an apology for doing so. No, your callous vote have already cost people their lives. Even if Trump hadn't absolutely collapsed the government, your character judgement skills are shit, and you clearly aren't smart enough to be around me.

this is such a silly pet peeve of mine but i hate when a character has a tongue piercing, lip piercing, nipple piercing etc. and it’s described as cool or cold. it’s warm!!!!! the piercing is literally inside their mouth it wouldn’t be cold …….

see i’m a suguru gooner but as soon as i see a legitimate analysis on him and his character i need to set down my phone and take a walk

Corazón Sin Cara

a/n: this is the first thing i’ve posted on tumblr and probably the last unless there’s enough demand 😭 ik the hype for miguel has died down quite a bit but i hope those that are still around like this silly little thing i wrote for funsies :) (srry if he’s ooc :( )

warning(s): mentions of alcohol (no one’s drunk), cursing, anyone can read but written with chubby!reader in mind, mentions of reader wearing dresses and heels but no pronouns used, no use of y/n, nervous miguel lol

Description: A night at the bar with Jess and Peter B., that’s all tonight was supposed to be. But because the multiverse is seemingly always against you, you couldn’t just have a fun, peaceful night without it being ruined by something (or someone). That’s why you found yourself in your current predicament, flustered and stiff as you swayed with the (admittedly attractive) leader of the Spider Society that was usually so cold towards you.

All you could feel were his hands on your waist, his skin warm even through the fabric of the dress you wore. Peter B. and Jess watched from the sidelines, idly chatting by the bar with smug looks on their faces. You sent them glare from across the room which only caused Peter to snicker and whisper something behind his hand and for Jess to send you a teasing wink. You heard a whistle from your dance partner, his index finger tapping your waist to grab your attention.

“Lost you there for a second.” Miguel’s head tilted slightly as he spoke, a small smile gracing his lips. “Oh- Uh- Yeah, sorry…” You stammered as you shook your head to snap yourself out of your stupor. Honestly, you couldn’t recall how you got into this situation. All you remembered was nursing a drink or two before being swooped away by strong hands, not even able to protest after he muttered a demand for you to dance with him just loud enough for you to hear.

From what you understood, Peter planned these outings sometimes in an attempt to have a “bonding experience” with others in the society. While the notion was sweet, schedule clashes and many other factors tended to leave only the small group you were with now. Miguel was an unexpected addition, half-jokingly invited by Peter in one of the many one-sided “conversations” they tended to have. No one actually expected him to show up, hands stuffed in the pockets of his slacks as he deadpanned at Peter’s overly enthusiastic greeting. He barely spared you a glance, giving you half-assed wave before almost immediately ordering a drink.

You scowled at the lack of acknowledgment, bitterly taking a sip of the drink you had ordered earlier to get the sour taste of his disdain out of your mouth. Sure, he may not have said anything to Peter, but he chose to be around him. Miguel avoided you like the plague, always making up some lame excuse to leave the room whenever you two coincidentally had a moment alone. When you confided in Jess and Peter with your complaints, they simply gave each other a knowing look before shrugging dismissively and waving off your concerns.

You felt left out, like some inside joke was being made and your gut was telling you that you were the subject of it. No matter how hard you tried, you could never decipher that look that they gave each other.

But your current predicament was a direct contrast to his previous behavior. His big hands were soft against the plushness of your waist, it was as if he was afraid of breaking you. You could smell the hints of alcohol on his breath when he got close enough, but he was still very much conscious of everything he was doing, which only confused you more. Why would he be consciously dancing with you when he can’t even stand to be in a room with you? Is he just trying to fuck with you?

Even though you both were just lazily swaying to the song playing over the speakers of the bar, you were stiff. You didn’t know where to put your hands and you were avoiding direct eye contact with him, seemingly finding the empty tables over his shoulder more interesting than Miguel himself. You heard him let out a short, breathy laugh before his hands gently guided your arms to rest on his shoulders. Goosebumps riddled your skin as his fingers ghosted over your forearm before moving back to your waist. The new positioning only brought your faces a couple of inches closer, but with the way your face heated up you may as well have been cheek-to-cheek.

You were quiet for a moment until the song you were swaying to changed, a vaguely recognizable bachata melody playing over the speakers. Miguel visibly perked up at this, looking down at you as if he was waiting for you to say something. “What?” You asked with furrowed brows, narrowing your eyes in suspicion at the look he gave you. He shrugged in response, answering your question with a question of his own. “You know this song?” It was your turn to shrug. “From family parties, mostly. I don’t even know the name of it or what it means but I’ve listened to it too many times to count.” He raised an eyebrow at your explanation and let out a small hum, nodding in response to your words.

“I’ll lead.” He murmured, his gaze flitting around different points on your face, taking in every curve of your cheek, every eyelash that fluttered up at him, every wrinkle of your skin as you gave him that pretty, confused look he loved so much. “Here, let me just…” His voice trailed off and his hands pulled you in by your waist, his knee slotting in between your thighs. You didn’t say anything, the way his body pressed against yours and how his lips were so close rendered you completely speechless. You gave him your warmed cheek, eyes fixed on a nearby wall as he led the steps of your dance.

You were quite rusty, so it took you a moment to remember the steps to the dance. His proximity definitely didn’t help either. But before long your hips were moving to the beat of the music as well as they could in your tense and flustered state. You felt him lean down, his soft breaths fanning along the shell of your ear as his hands moved to rest on your swaying hips. “‘And if you’re fat or skinny, none of this matters to me.’” You turned your gaze back to him at his murmured words, a perplexed expression on your face. “Excuse m-” He shushed you softly, effectively cutting off your words.

He was quiet for a moment, his brows furrowing in concentration. “‘And I am not perfect either, all I know is that I want you the way you are.’” You stared up at him with pinched brows, your lips twitching into a scowl. He was starting to piss you off. He snickered at your expression, giving your hips a small squeeze. “Just translating the lyrics, you said you don’t know what the song is about.” He explained, trying to stifle a small smile in fear of annoying you more than he already was.

It didn’t work.

You stopped moving, pulling away from him but keeping your hands resting on his broad shoulders. “What the fuck is your problem?” You asked suddenly, brows furrowed in confusion and frustration. You reveled in the way his eyes widened in shock and how a nervous flush crept up his neck. “Wh-what do you-” “You know damn well what I mean, Miguel. You avoid me for no reason but you’re pressed up against me the second you get some drinks in you.” You huffed frustratedly, eyes searching his face. The flush had made its way to his face and he avoided direct eye contact with you, his eyes darting around every feature of your face other than your eyes. You pulled away from him completely, crossing your arms over your chest as you watched him expectantly for his explanation.

He stood quiet and you scoffed, pressing your tongue against your cheek. “Can you at least have the decency look at me when I’m talking to you? Or do you not respect me that much?” His eyes widened and locked on yours at those words, his head shaking in disagreement. “No, that’s not what- It’s not because I don’t respect you…” He trailed off. He sounded desperate, like what you suggested was so outlandish he had to put a stop to that train of thought the second the words left your lips. “Then what is it, Miguel?” Your arms stood crossed over your chest as your heel-clad foot tapped against the hardwood floor of the bar impatiently.

God, he hoped he didn’t fuck this up.

“You just…” He cut himself off, sighing deeply and squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to ground himself and will away the heat lingering on his skin. “You make me nervous. So nervous.” Your eyes narrowed at his vague explanation and you stood silent, a wordless way of telling him to continue. “I-I can’t explain it, you’ve been stuck in my head, it’s so frustrating.” He ran his hands through his hair with an exasperated huff. “Your laugh, your face, it’s all so annoying… but I can’t get enough of you. I hate feeling like this.” He rambled.

Your eyes were wide when he finished speaking. It felt like the world had gone silent, all of the music and low murmurs of the people around you fading into silence, leaving only the two of you. You suddenly broke the silence with a soft, unsure laugh that slowly escalated until you were gripping the sides your stomach in genuine amusement at the situation. He let out a few tense laughs, an embarrassed flush on his face. “So…” Another laugh cut you off before you took in a deep breath in an attempt to stave off the giggles that were about to escape you again. “So instead of just asking me out, you decided to avoid me? And then what? The feelings would just go away?” You teased, a bright smile still on your face as you continued huffing out quiet laughs. He looked away from you with a pout, shrugging in response to your question. His response only made you laugh more.

“I thought you hated me.” You sighed after finally calming down from your laughing fit. “… I could never hate you…” He murmured after a moment, his face still turned away from you. You crinkled your nose at his words, shaking your head softly as you moved towards him again. “That was really cheesy but… sweet, I guess.” You shrugged with a small laugh, snaking your arms around his neck. He startled slightly at the contact but rested his hands on your waist.

“So… anything you have to say to me?” You mused, lightly tapping his nape with your fingers to get him to look at you. “Sorry for ignoring you…” He murmured begrudgingly, a stubborn scowl on his face. A smug smile spread across your cheeks. “Oh, that was cute.” You cooed teasingly. “But no. I was thinking more ‘Will you go on a date with me so I don’t have to pathetically avoid you anymore?’” You deepened your voice, mocking his tone with a small laugh. He rolled his eyes at your antics, attempting to stifle a small smile. “Okay, okay, I get it, I was being ridiculous.” “Understatement.” You murmured.

You watched his face as he filtered through many, many different emotions before he finally sighed in defeat. “Will you…” “Yes.” You answered quickly with a stifled smile. Miguel chuckled after his initial surprise. “Friday at seven?” You smiled. “Friday at seven.”