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#my drabblings
swordsandholly · 2 months
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Thinking about a mechanic!AU where the 141 boys run a garage and need a new receptionist. They hire you because you’re just so cute (great tits) and have a decent resume but it becomes a slight problem when they realize you’re a bit… dense.
Total ditz to be precise.
But they can’t really get mad when you get the keys for clients mixed up and look at them with those big eyes all teary and a little pout pushing out your lower lip.
Price is the most patient, perfectly content to walk you through how to file paperwork and fill out forms. Instructing you in a low voice while his breath brushes the shell of your ear. It’s really their fault for having such a terrible system, you know? Don’t worry about it too much, dove. He’ll settle his big hands on your shoulders and gently trace up and down your arms. See? You’re getting it. Just needed some more practice, hm?
Johnny is more than happy to show you around the garage, rattling off everything he knows about all those nitty gritty details that go right over your pretty little head. He’ll pop open the hood of some sports car and point to the engine to show it off. No, bonnie, you’ve got tae get in close. Closer.
Until you’re bent entirely over in one of those too-short skirts you wear everyday. It takes all his willpower not to yank you into the supply closet.
Gaz is just so sweet to you. Always bringing you little treats and candies to suck on. To help you concentrate, of course. Always greeting you with a soft ‘baby girl’ at the beginning of your shift. Whenever you’re standing around be it at the printer or counter - wherever really - he’ll slip a hand on your waist. It always trails a little lower, his pinky just edging on the hem of your too tight jeans.
Ghost gets frustrated with you to the point of causing tears to well up in the corners of your eyes. He’s feels guilty, sure, but bloody hell just print the damn receipt. He avoids you for the most part. Until one evening when it’s pouring down. You forgot your rain coat of course, silly girl. He offers you a ride which you take happily.
After that he can’t get rid of you. You bring him coffees (how you remember his order word for word but not where you last left your own cup is beyond him) and giggle at his jokes. When a client gets too snappy or too loud he’s the first to step in - standing behind you glaring at them with his huge arms crossed over his chest until they back down.
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fmhobeus · 3 months
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so, nerdy loser college boy choso *sighs* *opens legs*
a/n: just so you know, this man is gonna make you do all the hard work for a piece of that loser boy dick 😮‍💨 so... um so at some point around 2000 words in i realised this is way more than a hc post :3 eat it up if you will!
nerdy!choso who borderline has no friends except his gaming buddies who doesnt meet irl like ever. he doesnt like going to classes, especially this one. he doesnt need it but it's a requirement for all first years. and boy is glad it is when he sees you come in.
nerdy!choso who only listens to discussions when you're talking. suddenly he needs to put down his headphones and nod at every word you're saying. his eyes follow every gesture of your hand, every sway of your ass, every single time you fix your hair.
nerdy!choso who is starting to get a bit enamored with you, your style, your way of speaking. he loses track of time gawking at you in class from the last benches as you prettily do all the work in the class. he hates how beautifully your hair falls on your face, how nicely your clothes fit you despite being pretty modest for college. he hates how he can see the silhouette of your tits when you turn to the side. but he's too much of a gentleman to keep looking.
nerdy!choso who ends a game early when he remembers you, lying and saying that he had promised someone to meet them somewhere. the place is his bathroom and the person was you. god, you really shouldn't wear those tight jeans to class y'know? how will he continue to be a gentleman if you do?
nerdy!choso who despises groupwork but prays to dear god this class has some reason to pair you two together. he's getting so desperate to talk to you knowing damn well he too pussy to do it on his own. and the lord answers his prayers, the teacher assigns groups of three for a presentation. it's you, him and some slacking trust fund baby.
nerdy!choso who is about to combust and have a full blown panic attack when he sees you approach him after class with that smile on your face that would make the angels swoon. you're going on about distributing the work equally and what not while he is trying his fucking hardest to not accidently make eye contact with you and piss his pants : (
nerdy!choso who now has your name, your number and your email and he feels like the happiest man on earth. his hands are literally shaking as he responds to your request to call. he's overthinking every word he types.
choso: yeah i can do wednesday. choso: i'll be okay with whatever day you want.
nerdy!choso who hops on video call and short circuits with a view of you in an oversized band tee and a brief view of your room. why did you have to be this pretty? why did you have to video call him when you couldve done the work on text? why did you have to put your hair up like that? why oh why did you have you say "choso? hey, you there?" so seductively to bring him back to the present?
nerdy!choso who gets like no work done in a 30 minute call which felt like three hours. he knew he would hardly be paying attention so decided to record the call with your consent, saying he'd need the notes you were typing out on screen only to play it back and stroke his dick to you for what might've have been the twentieth time this week. his strokes only getting faster as you say his name in that voice he imagines sounds way better moaning and screaming it instead.
nerdy!choso who, after the presentation, is on greeting terms with you when he sees you studying in the library. he sits as far away from you as he can while still being able to see you. occupying the coziest corner of the library to stare at you study right when you come up to him.
"can i join you, choso? i'm all alone and your space seems comfy" you say with a smile, "of course, i dont mean to disturb you, is saw you were on your own too, so..."
uh oh, uh oh, uh oh. god no. please no. please dont say yes. please dont be staring at her like some dumb idiot (too late) please.
"uh... yeah sure why not?" he awkwardly says as he makes room for you to keep your things. he was such an idiot for thinking he could say no to your pretty face in the first place.
nerdy!choso who is absolutely drunk on your scent. it feels way better than any alcohol he's ever had. he feels like an animal in heat when he smells your sugary perfume mixed with the styrofoam-y air conditioned smell of the library. you're gonna kill him, yknow? how is he supposed to respond to this? what is one to do when their stupid college crush sits next to them? he gives you a half smile before furiously typing away on reddit, the only place with answers for losers like him.
nerdy!choso whose hands. oh his hands. (can be i a big whore for a second?) his long hands that feel like they're the size of your face. his kempt, beautiful and trimmed nails. his lengthy fingers that seem to yearn for something more to foddle with than just the keyboard or controller. he typed as such an insane pace it made your pussy ache. he was going so fast, jesus. those hands were meant to do more than just ask "how to talk to girls" on reddit.
nerdy!choso who (on the advice of reddit) asks if you would want him to order something for you. you tell you had a frappuccino not too long ago and that it was quite sweet and filling. and he hates himself for thinking that he could give you something much sweeter and filling than that like a horny fourteen year old.
nerdy!choso who is now determined to not come off as a creep so he does his work with the focus of four adderalls. he is typing as fast as his heartbeat, not realising he got two classes worth of work done in just an hour. he looks over at you, blissfully unaware of the absolute war in his mind.
nerdy!choso who feels as though if he doesn't muster up the courage to ask you out right then and there, he'll probably be the biggest loser on the planet. (as if he wasn't already)
nerdy! pathetic! choso who stutters a million times and barely gets the job done then too. his eyes are scanning your entire being (trying his best to not gawk at your tits) for any sign of discomfort.
"so- uhh so ummm... wo-would you, like, uh... like to do this again? sometime?... i got a.. a lot of work done today, so.."
oh heavens, the sheer nervousness in his tone makes you want to pull his pants down and show him how to really get work done.
you agree with a smile, even suggesting a better, more ambient (more romantic) cafe to study in. choso's heart is about to burst and flood the fucking library with his blood the way it is beating at an alarming rate.
"umm yeah uh 5 sounds... awesome... i hope it isn't a-a bother to you?" "no way, choso. i loved today," you offer him a smile as you gather your things, "i really like your hair, by the way" "i like your hair too, y-y-you smell very nice", he gulps.
fuck. why did he say that? what? you smell nice? who says that? is he like ten? you can't help but giggle at the sheer embarassment on his face.
he feels as though he's gonna melt into a puddle and turn to stone and throw up all at the same time.
nerdy!choso who is the most stupidly hot guy you've ever met, you think as you go giggling back to your dorm. mental note: pick a skimpy outfit for 5pm ;)
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satoruxx · 20 days
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you're sweating when you wake up, skin sticking painfully to your bedsheets as your bleary eyes dart around, attempting to make focus of your surroundings. the room is still dark, barely touched by the slight bit of moonlight that attempts to peak through the closed windows—defiant. it takes a minute to realize that the sounds that are breaking the silence are actually coming from your own throat—breathy, wheezing gasps of terror.
your stomach drops when your fingers grip cold and empty fabric. he's gone he's gone he's go—
"what are you doing up, pretty?"
your head snaps to the doorway. satoru stands there, sweats hanging low on his hips even as his hand remains curled around a glass of water. his hair is tousled with sleep, but his cerulean eyes are sharp and lively.
as soon as he sees the panic lacing your expression, his eyes widen, long legs practically tripping over themselves as he stumbles towards you.
"what happened?" he asks sharply, frantically placing the cup on the bedside table to take your face into his palms. shades of blue dart back and forth across your features as he perches one knee on the mattress and peers down at you. "are you okay?"
his touch sends electricity through your veins—a splash of ice water pulling you away from that painful reverie.
your heart both clenches and soars, the idea of what you saw being terrifying, and yet finding out it wasn't true being that much more relieving.
"i just—" your voice comes out choked, and satoru's fingers twitch against your skin imperceptibly. "had a bad dream."
you think your brain must be cruel for conjuring up a dream in which satoru could suffer to such abhorrent extents.
"oh sweets." satoru's sigh is sympathetically soft, thumb brushing over the apple of your cheek just barely. "it was just a nightmare."
"i know," you swallow, voice shaking. there's an uncharacteristic wetness pooling at your waterline. "i-it just felt so real."
"baby..." satoru immediately pulls you against the steady planes of his chest, thick arms snaking around your waist to eliminate any measly amount of distance between you two. you prop your chin on his shoulder, sighing as you feel his snowy hair tickling at your cheek.
"it wasn't real, sweetheart," he says, pulling back just slightly to push a piece of hair from your face. his thumb then drags under your eyes, wiping away the unshed tears. "see. you're here, i'm here. everything's all good."
"yeah." you're nodding, unable to take your eyes off of him because he's real and alive and so breathtakingly perfect. "yeah, you're right."
he gives you a lopsided smile, eyes bright and glowing. "i don't like to brag, but i usually am."
you snort out a laugh, missing the way his expression turns pleased at the sound. "hilarious. you love to brag."
"you got me there," he shrugs, grinning as you stick your tongue out at him. the lighthearted banter solidifies the fact that satoru is fine and unharmed and completely yours, but you can still feel the apprehension coursing through your veins. chills run up your spine—you try not to show it.
but of course, satoru has always been able to see right through you.
his teasing smile goes soft, and he inhales deeply.
"was it about me?" he asks, climbing into bed next you. you lay back down carefully.
"yeah," you mumble, watching him tug the blankets over your body and tuck you both under a cocoon of warmth.
"hm." something in his tone tells you he's not unfamiliar with the feelings you seem to be experiencing—his body shifts closer to yours. ocean eyes carefully asses you, deep and calculating and so concerned even as he smoothes a warm palm over your shoulder blades. "wanna tell me what happened?"
the truth is you do want to, because satoru has always understood you better than you've ever understood yourself—you have no doubt he'd be able to comfort you just as well as he normally does.
and yet...
"no," you answer, pressing your nose into his neck. a deep breath in, the lively scent that is so inherently your gojo satoru filling your very soul. "it's okay. i think i'll be fine."
when you shut your eyes, images flash behind them—of bloodied bodies and stitches and swapped souls. yet a chaste kiss to your forehead pulls you back to where you're supposed to be, warm and grounding.
"i know you'll be fine," satoru murmurs, lips tickling your brow as he speaks. you think you can hear the gentle smile as he says it, and your grip on him tightens—never letting go. "i'm right here after all."
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heavenbarnes · 2 months
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anyways, as i was saying about older bf!simon and his willingness to please learn
pt 2 to this
“you ever heard of a nut video with sound on?”
obviously, he hasn’t- far as he’s concerned, if you haven’t told him about it then it doesn’t exist to him.
no skin off your nose, you’d spend the rest of your life teaching him about the ‘latest trends’ if it meant he kept sending those filthy fucking videos to your phone.
(your favourites on tiktok were purely filled with ideas)
he’s holed up in a remote location, killing time till he can be home and actually do something to you rather than send you a bloody video about it.
your instructions come through clear and concise, just how he likes:
“it’s what’s written on the can, si- you can pick the setup but i just want to see you cum and, most importantly, i want to hear it”
you’re lucky simon is such a practical guy and maybe you could thank price one day for making him so good at following orders.
when he’s got his alone time he’s setting his phone up to record on the edge of the window sill, moonlight fighting through the curtain to illuminate him.
he’s lost the bulkiest of his gear, down to his tactical trousers and a compression t-shirt. the images in his tattoo sleeve almost move when the light catches them right.
balaclava on (the one that just shows his eyes above the painted image of a skull) and he’s standing up to undo his belt (that you think looks like an airplane seatbelt).
you can hear his boots against the floorboard as he steps back to give you the full view of him undoing his trousers, taking his sweet time because he knows it drives you fucking batty.
he’s so big that the phone is working overtime to get all of him in the frame but you see exactly what you need to- thick thighs at your eye line and massive hands drawing down his fly.
on (you assume) the other side of the globe, you’re at home in your shared bed and you’re propped up right in the middle with the smell of simon engulfing you as you watch the video play out before you.
(if you’d thought about it you should’ve cast it to the bedroom tv, hoping the neighbours didn’t mind)
simon sits back down with his legs spread wide, one hand gripping his thigh as the other rubs himself over his boxers. his eye contact with the camera was fucking intense, like you’d hoped, just like when he’s on top of you.
he’s dressed in all black and the moonlight is obscured but you can still see him firming up in his pants. his eyes flutter, an infinitesimal amount but you’ve been tuned into his every move since you met him.
your thumb leans hard on the volume up button and you can hear the diegetic sound of the building expanding and that usual technical hum that comes with a video. but at this pitch, you could hear him.
his breathing was chopped, chest expanding visibly as he pulled his cock out into clear view. jeeeeesus christ, it was never something you just got used to.
long, reasonably straight, fucking thick. even his hand struggled to make it look smaller as he wrapped around it, giving one dry tug.
as he closed his palm over the tip, you saw him make a swipe before he brought his hand back down considerably smoother than before. you’d had your hands down his pants enough times, man leaked like a fucking faucet.
simon’s head tipped back as he started to pull himself off, balaclava raising just enough to expose some of his throat. if you were there you would be perched in his lap, letting him do the work but running your tongue under the lip of the fabric.
one of the best things about the videos simon sent was, he didn’t really understand how sexy he was. he didn’t think any of the videos particularly watchable so he’d just send them on first take. if you liked them, you liked them- yours was the only opinion that mattered.
what that meant was, you never got b-roll. everything he sent you was unbridled perfection. captured exactly as it happens with no faffing about.
always whatever you’ve asked for, whenever you ask.
(simon’s nothing if not inexplicably obedient)
he brings his hand under his chin to spit into the wide span of his palm, wrapping back around his cock and tugging. his foreskin moved over the head, rolling back down and thick veins bulging under his grasp.
you’d almost forgotten the conditions of your request, totally fucking enamoured by the sight in front of you when it caught you off guard.
a guttural moan ripped out of simon’s chest as he twisted his wrist.
his free hand moved to cup his balls, big and heavy, he rolled them in his palm as another groan sounded out of him. what you wouldn’t give to be knelt between his thighs with the whole lot in your mouth.
you knew how much of an ask this was, you really had to work him up to making noise when it was just you two in bed. these days? you couldn’t shut the man up when he was balls deep and his face was buried in the crook of your neck.
but this was another step, this was him on his own with his crew just through the walls. he’d be a plain liar if he said there wasn’t that rumbling trepidation in his chest. he’d put it to bed though.
all he had to think of was you, one hand gripping your phone and the other between your thighs as you watched him through with a hazy smile- that kept him going.
with the thought still heavy on his mind, you didn’t have to strain to hear your name drift off his lips. his hips bucked into his hand as he did, speeding up the motion of his strokes.
you were going to black out, his tattoos flexing and his chest expanding with every stuttered breath. simon looked like a god among men and he fucking sounded like one too.
“fuck, sweetheart- you’re so fucking filthy giving me orders like this”
your cheeks were burning, he wasn’t wrong but you weren’t expecting him to call you out quite like this.
“what does that make me? always so fucking eager to do what you say? make a dirty old man, yeah?”
wheeeeeew that’ll do it, your thighs snapped together around your hand as your eyes nearly rolled back in your head. whenever you thought you couldn’t take any more, he was always there to do you one better.
“only for you, pet- you can always get whatever you fucking want from me”
and you knew he was serious, that’s what made it all the more debilitating. simon was unshakeable, you’d seen him go out of his way to defy orders if he didn’t think the person worth his time.
when it came to you? you could tell him to kill and he would.
(he probably had)
simon’s hips were twitching, back arching in a way he’d rather die than have anyone else know about. his mouth was hanging open beneath the balaclava, your name and a string of expletives falling off his tongue.
so quick you nearly missed it, the hand that was cradling his balls moved to grip the fabric of his shirt and push it up his toned front. you couldn’t call his abs cut and defined, there was aged layer to them, but they were undeniably there.
you’d rested your head on them, pressed your palms against them, even ridden them enough times to know they were there. regardless, he looked fucking perfect under the moon glow as he stroked himself hard and long.
eyes locked onto the camera, broken moans on his lips, you saw his hips lift one last time as thick spurts of cum began to paint his stomach and chest.
scars illuminated under the night sky, mirrored by shiny patches of hot cum splattered across the same stretch of skin. the hairs on his chest were matted with sweat and were now being splashed with how far he was shooting.
you could only watch with your mouth hung open as he tugged himself through his orgasm. soon it was only the sound of his laboured breathing, chest rising and falling as he tucked his soft cock back into his pants.
just when you thought that was it, you found one of his hands lifting up the edge of his balaclava till his lips were exposed. two fingers of his other hand swiped up some of his spend before he lay them on his tongue.
knuckles in your mouth, biting down to suppress a scream, simon readjusted his clothes as he stood and took a heavy step towards the camera.
one hand braced on the window sill, the other gently gripping himself through his trousers- his voice was so fucking gravely it could’ve reverberated round your room.
“what’s next sweet’art? you name it, it’s yours”
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truetogaia · 5 months
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just thinking and crying over the way simon would continue to refer to you as “his girl” even after your sudden passing.
he would talk about you as if you were still alive whenever relationships came up in conversation. and he’d be so reluctant to allow anyone, even his respected comrades, to try and comfort him.
“yeah, me n my girl have been together for years now. she’s everything. all i’ve got, ya know?”
he would make sure to always keep your resting place full of life. Whether that was by planting your favorite plant, and naming it after you, or always keeping it filled with bouquets of your favorite flowers. and he’d always take your beloved pet that you left behind to go see you.
“did you miss mommy, p/n? i bet our girl missed you so much.” and he’d smile sadly when your baby showed signs of recognizing your grave. his heavy hand petting it comfortingly “so excited to see her today, yeah?”
cod masterlist
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kentopedia · 5 months
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nanami kento, who hates dating, and didn’t do much of it in his early twenties. but now, he’s almost thirty, watching all the people he works with settle down, have kids, and he thinks he wants that. so he might as well try.
so satoru sets him up on a few dates — friends of friends, he calls them. and at the end of every one of the dinners, kento goes home empty, exhausted, because he knows what they want is not the same.
still; he thinks maybe he’s being a little self-destructive, maybe too picky, maybe he just got so used to being alone. with satoru’s insistence, he gives all the women another call, invites them over to his apartment.
the first time was a disaster… kento had barely set the dinner on the table before his cat had hissed at her, scratched her down the arm in a thin gash. and though it did draw blood, it was hardly enough to warrant that reaction.
he didn’t even try to stop her as she picked up her bag and left, huffing like she’d been morally offend. kento, though, could only smile to himself in amusement.
because maybe kento was a poor judge of character, a man who was secretly hoping nothing would pan out — but his cat could certainly tell the good from the bad.
it became a little game to him, after that. seeing if anyone could win his pet over, and if they could, perhaps they were the one. his darling animal was a fickle thing anyway. a bit too defensive, quick to bite anything threatening after years on the streets.
naturally, no one came back twice.
he was close to giving up, accepting his solitude because he was tired of empty conversations over dinner. but then, he ventured out over the weekend to a new coffee shop, during hours he normally didn’t spend out of his home, and met you.
though you only talked for a moment, kento felt like maybe he’d known you in a past life. a part of him thought maybe it was strange, the way he kept coming back to talk to you, catching you at the end of your shift to see if you wanted to grab a coffee sometime.
by the second date, kento started to think you could turn out to be his best friend.
by the third date, kento wondered if soulmates were real.
on the fourth date, almost two months later, an appropriate time to get to know someone when you were as reserved as kento, he invited you over for dinner. it was, perhaps, the final confirmation he needed to let himself be with you.
he let you through the door, smiling softly as you told him about the book you were reading, and hung his coat on the rack. a moment later, you stopped, distracted, hands covering your mouth in a gasp.
“kento! she’s the cutest cat i’ve ever seen, you didn’t even show me pictures!” you exclaim, and, a few feet away, crouched down. “look at her pretty eyes…”
“careful,” kento said, “she’s not very—“
but the cat approached your outstretched hand, sniffed once, before letting you scratch her under her chin, purring loud enough for kento to hear across the room.
“shes such a sweetheart, you told me she was mean!” you smiled, making a cooing noise as you threaded your fingers through her fur. “kento’s a liar, isn’t he… you’re so precious.”
a few moments later, she snapped her jaw at you in a biting motion, and you only laughed, withdrawing your hand. “alright, i get it, i won’t bother you anymore.”
though she still brushed against your legs, just as she did kento’s, and seemed to communicate some sort of message to him.
“do you want any help cooking?” you ask, tucking your hair behind your ears. “i’m a disaster in the kitchen, but—“
“sure,” kento said, his chest tightening as he blinked back at you, only in his apartment for minutes and already looking as at home there. he wondered if it was possible to fall in love so quickly. “but only if you want to.”
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raeson · 1 month
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contents. satoru gojo and the birth of your child, the future to be exact.
other. mentions of childbirth/pregrancy. mentions of being a mother. gojo being a lovestruck idiot (as he should be!)
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Satoru Gojo could feel the sweat dripping down his temples.
He was nervous.
Very nervous actually.
His long fingers flexed with anxiety, his messy white hair sticking up like a cactus, his vivid blue eyes dull, devoid of any emotion.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
Today was the day.
Where you would give birth to the newest gojo of the family.
Give birth to his child.
'Should i have brought something?!'
'like.... should i got chocolates? no.. i already got chocolates..'
Another awkward few minutes passed, with doctors rushing in and out of the room, and occasional yells of 'push! push!' ringing out, before an abrupt silence pierced through the air. Dead, cold silence haunted the halls.
Tick, tock, tick, tock.
"Sir?"
Leaping up and almost taking the chair with him, he turned to the doctor, anxiety flitting across his vivid eyes, fear piercing his barriers and hitting through his heart.
"Can i go in?!"
"Yes you can but before th-"
After the one word left the doctor's mouth, he pushed him aside and ran to the operation room, muttering hurried apologies to the people he shoved out of his way.
" 'Toru...."
Falling to his knees, right beside your bed, he completely disregarded the chair, instead, he held onto your arm, eyes locked on the baby you had in your arms.
Their baby they held in your arms.
"C-Can i hold...."
You chuckled and beckoned Gojo to come down to your level, snorting as he awkwardly fumbled with the now-wailing baby.
"Your eyes. They have your eyes."
You smile, watching as your partner, your lover stiffly rocked the child, awe filling his eyes as their cries faded, now turning into a big yawn.
Satoru Gojo, the strongest held the future in his arms.
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eternalslover · 7 months
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Bullet train incorrect quotes:
Tangerine: Do you want to play 20 Questions?
Y/n: Sure!
Y/n: Whats your favorite color?
Tangerine, laser fucking focused: Triangle. Do you love me?
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tojisun · 6 months
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!! suggestive-ish; dirty talking n insinuations; simon n his big body <33
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"c'mon, sweetheart," simon murmurs, watching you with narrowed eyes. "won't you tell me why you wanna ride me?"
you puff a trembling breath, gaze turned away from him, before replying, "wanna feel you, s'all." you chew on your words, the rumble of your voice is so soft that simon almost missed it.
almost.
he doesn't bother hiding his smirk.
"is that right?" he sounds breathy even to his own ears. "anythin' else?"
he watches as you shake your head, still looking away from him, all shy and docile in your embarrassment. simon almost heaves a saddened sigh, but he sees the way your eyelashes flutter in nervousness, your bottom lip all bitten and nibbled on, and decides to take it easy.
well.
easy on his terms.
"you wanna take me to the hilt, yeah?" simon begins, his voice genuine even with the faint teasing tone. he adjusts the two of you on the sofa, grunting in satisfaction when your eyes flick up to meet his shyly.
"you wanna take control? wanna set the pace and do all the work?" he massages your hips, working his hands to grab fistfuls of your muscle and fat, groaning at the way your skin dimples.
he pulls you close to him, your chest pressing against his own, and simon tries his best not to flick his eyes down just to see the way your tits are all squished up against him. god, even just feeling the softness of them makes his cock stir underneath his jeans.
simon brushes his lips over the shell of your ears, purposeful in their teasing touch. then, "you wanna know how deep i can go in you, huh? wanna take your sweet time – or not, depends."
he lands a smack on your ass, the slap ringing between you two, and simon chuckles at your bit-off squeak. he watches as you tilt your head up to glare at him but simon just grins, teasing and meanly, before pitching forward to press a soft kiss on your forehead.
"no one's stoppin' you, princess." the words are mumbled into your skin and simon revels in the way you breathe in sharply, fingers trembling from where they are fisting his shirt, before groaning in quiet pleasure when he feels you rutting down onto his chub.
yeah. simon's gon' ruin you tonight.
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cashmoneyyysstuff · 7 months
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you’ve been katsuki’s for as long as you can remember.
sure, he had never outwardly called you his girlfriend, but when you were both seven years old, he came up to you. chest heaving slightly from running up and down the hill where he had gotten you a freshly plucked out bouquet of flowers. the roots were still clinging to them and he got dirt all over your hands from forcibly grabbing them and shoving the bouquet in them before you could even form a sentence.
“since you accepted the flowers, you’re mine now.” he mumbled, his little hands tightened into fists at his sides and chubby cheeks a cute shade of pink, staring at you as confidently as he could.
a grin grows on his face when you respond with a simple “okay !” and a bright smile. the grin on his face never disappears even as his mom scolds him for getting you both all dirty.
you were katsuki’s in middle school too, when the boys in class decided to play kiss, marry, kill and he had somehow gotten dragged into it. the girls in your class tried their best to seem uninterested, claiming the boys were being childish, but you noticed how hard some of them were straining their ears trying to hear what the guys were talking about in their own little corner of the room. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little curious as well.
katsuki was as ruthless as you’d known him to be, choosing to kill any girl that wasn’t to his liking, which ended up being all of them. much to the other boys’ chagrin, claiming he had no taste.
then your name was brought up.
at that, his eyes widened and he turned in his seat to see if you were watching. you had never turned your head away so fast in your life and you were pretty sure you heard something go “crack”.
he clicked his tongue. mumbling something about how stupid the game was before muttering out a “kiss yn, marry yn and kill that other bitch.” before getting up and stomping away, claiming he had to go to the bathroom followed closely by the whoops and hollers of his two friends behind him.
you both made eye contact when he walked out and you think you’ll never forget how red his cheeks were.
you were katsuki’s when he was the one to walk you to and from school everyday, claiming you would somehow get lost without him. you were katsuki’s when he had begrudgingly shoved homemade valentines day chocolates into your arms, mumbling something about how you had been upset nobody had gotten you anything last year, conveniently leaving out the fact he had scared off all the other guys trying to offer you anything.
you were katsuki’s when he grabbed your hand during the winter because he said you’d “end up dying of hypothermia with the way you’re chittering over there.” and you were his when you were the only person he laughed around. loud, genuine laughter that you and only you could squeeze out of him. you were katsuki’s when he randomly kissed you goodnight at your door one night and he’s been doing it ever since, and gets all pouty when you turn away from his kisses to tease him.
“are we dating ?” you had asked him. you’re both in high school now and you’re in his dorm room. your legs are on his lap and he’s got a comfortable grip on your leg, which tightens after he registers your questions “hah?” he looks utterly confused and a little insulted as he looks back at you, his entire face scrunched up in confusion. you pinch his nose and he swats at your hand.
“are we dating ? like—am i your girlfriend.” you say again and katsuki’s face scrunches up even harder. he huffs and looks back at his phone, landing a little smack on your leg still placed in his lap. “ ‘course yer my fuckin’ girlfriend.” he spits out, obviously irritated. then he looks back at you “I haven’t made it obvious ?” he says sarcastically. one of his eyebrows lifted as he pokes at your leg still very much in his lap.
you simply shrug “s’not that. it’s just because you’ve never actually asked me out before, so i was a little confused on where we stood.” you mumble. he stares at you while you speak and he stares a little longer before sighing. then he leans towards you and flicks your forehead.
“ow !”
“dumbass.” he murmurs. there’s a slight pout on his face and his cheeks are light shade of pink when he looks you in the eyes again. he grabs both your cheeks with one hand and smushes them together to push your lips out and presses multiple wet kisses onto them that have you squealing and squirming. his wet lips are pulled into a smirk when he pulls back and you try your best to at least look a little angry, you really do. but it’s useless when he looks at you like that.
“of course you’re my girlfriend” he reiterates. his smirk’s been replaced for something softer, something more sincere as he gazes at you with so much unadulterated affection it makes your head spin a little. “you’ve always been mine.” he says it in a teasing tone and his hand is still smushing your cheeks out and it hurts a little but his eyes are still the same. they’re warm and soft and so, so enamored with you and only you.
when he finally let’s go of your face and pulls you fully into his lap, you realize katsuki’s been yours for as long as you’ve been his.
you smile brightly at him but turn your nose up when he leans in to kiss you again. “i still haven’t heard what i wanna hear though, mr. bakugou.”
he rolls his eyes and pinches at your thigh as he mumbles out a “don’t call me that.” sighing, he looks at you intensely and you suddenly feel very shy.
“will you be my girlfriend, ya shitty girl ?” and he says it as a joke, you both know it is cus his lips are already forming into a smirk the second he finishes his sentence. and you’re pulling at his nose the moment you register it, but you’re both smiling hard. he laughs and you’re sure you’ll never get tired of the sound. “what’s your answer, pretty ?” he asks playfully and you pretend to really think it over just to mess with him, and giggling out a “yes!” when he suddenly pounces on you. flipping you both over and tickling you mercilessly, calling it revenge for you “taking too damn long to answer.”
you’d been katsuki’s for as long as you can remember, and you hope you can be forever.
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thatnewweeb · 2 months
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Bakugo somehow gets even more touchy when you’re pregnant with his baby.
Honestly, you didn't think that was even possible, he's already so touchy with you, but it apparently is.
His inability to keep his hands off of you increases the longer you're pregnant. It's honestly almost impressive.
The second he gets home after a long day of work, even though his work is so so exhausting, he feels rejuvenated when he sees you, so cute, beaming up at him sweetly, round with his baby. It really makes him want to just touch you.
When you're cuddling on the couch, he has both his arms around you, and without fail he'll pull you into his lap, even if you worry about being too heavy right now to sit in his lap. He finds it hilarious that you think you could ever be too heavy to sit in his lap.
While you're pregnant, he will not let you cook, but if he gets home and you are cooking, he'll wrap his arms around you from behind, doing that thing he saw on the Internet a few times, placing his arms under your belly and lifting up a little to hold the weight of your bump and relieve some pain. He finds the sigh you let out absolutely adorable.
He'll do that for you literally whenever he can, no matter how tired he is, or how sore his muscles are from work. His discomfort is way less important to him than yours all the time, but especially while you're pregnant with his baby.
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Can you just imagine Nanami letting you ride him? Giving the illusion that you’re in control, praising you for being such a good girl bouncing on his cock so well. His big hands running up and down your sides as he watches and waits.
Waits for you to falter.
Waits for your legs to grow tired and your rhythm to falter as you whine that you still got it and that he doesn’t need to take over.
And he’ll humor you. He’ll indulge you until your bouncing turns to grinding down on his cock, your clit rubbing against his hip bones with each roll and he’ll wait until you’re close before he flips you over and pounds you until you’re squirting <3
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sweetnans · 15 days
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"Stop moving, I can't reach the knot!"
Katsuki was face down on the living's couch shirtless, while you were on top of him trying to get rid of that obnoxious knot that had him buzzing and complaining about his job and his age (nearly twenty-five)
"I bet you're enjoying this," he exclaimed, squirming against the couch.
You were, but it wouldn't be productive if you told him that.
"I just want to get you out of the pain, I know how it feels"
After a fight, Katsuki had the habit of coming home all bruised and beat. While those marks lasted a few days, the contractures stayed until he was barely able to move from the pain, wincing and struggling all over your shared apartment. You couldn't take it anymore.
If we talk about pain, he was a crybaby, but only if you were around to pamper him.
"Right there baby" he cooed pressing his head in one of the pillows.
"Don't you dare drool over my pillows, Bakugo Katsuki," you warned, pressing soft circles in his neck.
"Why don't we move this to the bed? I'm not comfortable anymore. " he tried to lift him and you up, but you pressed hard on one of the knots so he would remain still. "Fucking ouch! What's the problem with you?" he cursed under his breath. "Fucking hell, you almost kill me with that one"
A crybaby and a dramatic complainer, that was your boyfriend when no one was there to see him.
"We are not moving until we're done," you demanded while releasing other knots in different spots in his back. "I know your intentions. You feel like you are no longer in control here, and you are going to get your way on pinning me down in the bed, so no, we are staying here, so you better stay still or you're going to end up with more knots than the ones you started with"
You absolutely read your boyfriend's mind. Katsuki's back hurt like hell, and you were doing an excellent job, but his pride and his desire to be in charge again were more important than a few back problems.
"You are so stubborn," he said like he wasn't stubborn either.
"It takes one to know one." You pressed a gentle kiss in the nape of his neck before sticking the tip of your fingers in his tense muscles, gaining a pitched whine out of him.
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yuukiiqwq · 1 month
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Satoru Gojo was more than ready to propose to you. For you to be his pretty little wife. For you to take his last name. To see you walk down the aisle in a white dress. He has spent weeks picking out a ring for you. Weeks finding the perfect place to propose. Weeks just for this moment. He knows you'll say yes.
Today was the day he would propose. He had everything all set up and ready. The ring box is in his pocket. He just needs to come home to you and get you ready for the date. He had long made a promise to himself. He'll make you happy because you are the world to him.
He then felt a vibration in his pocket from his phone, immediately snapping him out of his thoughts. He opened his phone to see that Shoko had called him. He accepted the call and was about to ask Shoko what she needed before she interrupted him.
"Satoru."
Satoru immediately freezes. Shoko had never called him by his first name. It was always Gojo.
"Come to my office," was the only thing Shoko said before ending the call. Her voice was shaking.
Dread filled Satoru's body. A chill was sent down his spine. Something was wrong, so he immediately teleported to Shoko's office. He was greeted with the sight of Shoko, his students, and you. The students' eyes red from crying. Shoko is unable to look him in the eyes. You covered in blood. Your curse energy completely diminished. Your lifeless body is on the table.
Oh. Oh.
"I'm sorry, sensei! It's all my fault!" Yuji apologies as he cries.
"She saved us." Nobara whispered as she continued to wipe her endless tears.
"We let our guard down." Megumi looks down. He was holding in his pain. "It's my fault. I was careless. They were wrong about–"
Satoru doesn't register the rest of Megumi's word. His ears were ringing, and his vision was blurring. A void in replacement of his heart. The ring in his pocket felt a lot heavier. He stares at your body before closing his eyes. He then turned toward his students with a smile.
"Hey, hey! It's alright, guys. It's not your fault. It was an accident! Don't blame yourself. It's not your fault at all. How about you guys take the next few days to relax! I'm sure this was very traumatic for you to lose a teacher in front of your eyes!"
"Gojo–" Megumi started, but he was pushed out the door with his friends before he could utter another word.
"Here, take my card and buy some stuff to help you take your mind off this, yeah? You guys need rest!" Satoru says as he closes the door. He's glad that he has his blindfold on so the students couldn't see the grief and pain in his eyes. He waited until he could no longer sense their curse energy before turning around towards you and Shoko.
"Shoko. Can you leave too? Just for a bit?" He asked. No. He pleaded. His voice was no higher than a whisper. He can't cry yet. Not in front of anyone but you. He's the strongest.
Shoko nodded and walked towards the door. "I'm sorry, Satoru. I tried to save her. I know today was suppose–" Shoko stopped before she finished the sentence. She bit the bottom of her lips before apologizing once more and then left.
Now, Satoru was left alone in the room with your lifeless body. He took off his blindfold and walked up to you. He held your once warm hand in his. He caressed your cheek as the tears that he was holding back finally fall down his face. He was going to propose to you today. You were supposed to be his wife. You were supposed to be with him until the day he died. But now... he would no longer see you. Your smile. Your laugh. You would no longer be smiling at him. In his arms. In his embrace. He wouldn't get to see your beautiful eyes open. Your voice. He wouldn't be able to hear your love for him. He won't be able to hear your "I love you, Satoru." You would no longer call his name. Oh, how he loved his name coming from your lips. It was supposed to be one of his happiest days. If he could only go back to yesterday. Where you were still in his arms, the two of you whispering your love to one another. Kisses being exchanged. Where you were still warm and alive. Where he can still stretch out his hand and reach you.
Fate loves taunting him with his loved ones. It loves to ruin him. To tear him apart. To rip his heart out and shred it to pieces because he's the strongest. So he'll always fail to protect the ones he loves. Fate is laughing at him because he is a joke. Fate is celebrating his grief. He has losted and fate has won again.
He doesn't know how much time has passed. Him next to your lifeless body, praying that you would just wake up. He wants to join you. Join you in the afterlife. To see you. To be with you. But he can't. He knows you'll never forgive him if he did. He still has his students to look after. A world to save. A revenge to sought after. He wiped his tears away because you would hate seeing him cry. He kissed you gently for the last time and whispered his eternal love towards you and a "I'll see you soon."
He then reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring. Your ring. He slipped it onto your ring finger and asked– "Will you marry me?"
A yes forever unspoken.
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heavenbarnes · 2 months
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I used to date an older guy (like mid 40s) a few years back and I always got stupidly turned on when he fixed stuff around his house?? Like, he just knew hot to do it and did it. No googling, just him and his tools. Feel like it would fit somewhere in your older bf Simon stuff.
god love a fully capable “fuck it i’ll do it” type of man 🫶🏼
you know that your older bf!simon doesn’t believe in hiring tradespeople for a service.
“why would i pay someone to fuck about in my home?”
“they’re not fucking about, si! they’d be fixing the sink”
“i’ll do it”
you have no doubt that simon was more than capable of fixing things around the house but you also wanted him relaxing when he was home.
turns out he couldn’t relax at the thought of another man doing something for you.
so you let him do it, you threw your hands up and waved your white tea towel in defeat as you heard him banging around in the garage for tools.
hearing the faint sounds of grunting and the occasional swear word coming from the bathroom, you thought it might pay to go and see how he was getting on.
fucking hell.
simon was on his back, arms stretched up above him as his hands dwarfed the pipe they were wrapped around. t-shirt riding up, lines of his stomach leading right to his belt, knees bent and boots firmly planted on the floor, you could honestly just-
“oi, you gonna’ stare or help me?”
now how the fuck?
“your heads in the cupboard, how did you know-“
“i always know where you are, pass me the wrench”
crouching down beside him, you handed it over and stayed down there to watch him work. scarred knuckles wrapped around the handle of the tool, other palm flat against the base of the sink so you could see the veins.
he was something else entirely.
“how d’you know how to do all this?”
“taught m’self, come hold this”
you reached over to replace where his palm was so he could have both hands back. “but why? surely other people don’t learn all this?”
“other people don’t care about their sweet’art not having to lift a finger- move your finger for me”
the more you stretched to hold the sink, the more you felt yourself losing traction with it. naturally, simon noticed before you did.
“y’need to get closer, cm’ere”
tools landing to the side of him, two large hands plucked you up till you were dropped in his lap. precarious situation but you couldn’t deny the sink was a lot easier to reach.
you stayed like that, letting simon work in peace as you enjoyed your view. honestly, he could invite you to the end of the world and you’d just be happy to hold his hand.
one hand splayed out on his chest, the other holding the sink, you suddenly felt a tickle forming at the end of your nose. before you knew it, you were pulling your hand back to scratch it- the one holding the sink.
you panicked, realising it could very well land on simon’s head. but it didn’t, it stayed completely still. face screwing up, you leant in again to give the sink a nudge only to find out it was totally fixed.
“what the hell, si? why’d you have me doing all that?”
you saw the smirk on his face as he flashed a look over at you. suddenly, you realised you weren’t the only one enjoying the view.
the hand that didn’t have the wrench came out to give you a pat on the side of your hip.
“c’mon sweet’art, i can’t get anything outta’ this?”
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daisynik7 · 9 months
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Nanami gets a kick out of how innocent and pure you are in front of others. Around friends, family, coworkers, strangers, you’re still that shy, timid girl he fell in love with all those years ago. Always smiling with kindness twinkling in your eyes. Perfectly sweet to just about everyone you meet. You’re beloved by everyone in your life and in his. A true angel in disguise gracing this mundane world of his. 
When it’s just the two of you, though, you turn into a completely different person: a fiend hellbent on making him lose his goddamn mind.
Tonight, you're locked in your bedroom, fucking each other silly. Well, it’s more like you're fucking him. You straddle his lap, riding his cock, already so sensitive from his first orgasm. His creampie leaks out from your pussy, making a mess between you, but you don’t care. He’s twitching from overstimulation, moaning your name as you bounce faster on his dick, pumping another load out of him. He’s spent beyond belief, but he knows better than to deny you of your fill. No matter how much he whines about how sensitive he is, he wants this. He needs this. 
Limbs wobbly from exhaustion, he kneels behind you, watching with half-lidded eyes as you position yourself on your hands and knees, teasing his wet cock between your ass cheeks. He stares at your pussy, drooling with his cum, already eager to be back inside you. He lets you do all the work, be in control, use him as your own personal sex toy until you’re satisfied. And that doesn’t happen until you throw your ass back and forth on his dick, filling yourself up with his third creampie of the night, the sheets beneath you ruined with sweat, spit, and slick. 
To Nanami, there’s nothing better than being fucked stupid by you, his gorgeous, perfect wife. 
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