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continuation of this.

★ thinking about choso who, despite having only recently lost his virginity to you, easily has the highest sex drive out of any of your previous partners.

he's practically always raring to go, no matter where you are, what time it is, or who you're surrounded by — it all blends into nothing more than mere background noise, the only coherent thought left in his mind being that he needs to have you.

he doesn't know exactly what happened... but ever since his first time with you, it's like a switch he never even knew was there has flipped, leaving him physically unable of going even a few hours without feeling your sweet warmth wrapped around him.

and he'll be all desperate and whiny about it to begin with, pale cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink and clammy hands fiddling restlessly with the sleeves of his shirt as he timidly asks if the two of you can go someplace more private.

but the moment you're behind closed doors, it's just like that night all over again, with choso swiftly pinning you to the nearest wall and unforgivingly jackhammering the entire length of his cock up into you over and over again, all the while grunting incoherent words against the shell of your ear.

and if you do manage to make out any of his slurred speech, it'll usually be along the lines of "couldn't help myself, you just looked s'good today." or "i-i think you've ruined me... all i can t-think about anymore is being inside this tight, perfect little pussy. 's not fair."

it's almost like having two entirely different boyfriends; the usual shy, quiet version of him that hides behind you during conversations with strangers — and the rough, overly vocal version of him that only rears its not-so-ugly head while he's fucking you.

not that you'll ever be caught complaining. because after all, it's like having the best of both worlds.

𝚝𝚠𝚘'𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚢, 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎'𝚜 𝚊 𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚍.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢꜱ: ᴋᴇɴᴍᴀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x ᴋᴜʀᴏᴏ ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: ꜱᴍᴜᴛ (ᴍᴅɴɪ 18+) ᴡᴄ: 1.6ᴋ ᴛᴡ// ᴄᴜᴄᴋᴏʟᴅɪɴɢ, ᴏʀᴀʟ (ʀᴇᴄᴇɪᴠɪɴɢ), ᴊᴇᴀʟᴏᴜꜱʏ, ᴅᴇɢʀᴀᴅɪɴɢ (ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ɪɴᴛᴇɴꜱᴇ), ᴅᴏᴍ!ᴋᴇɴᴍᴀ, ʙʀᴇᴇᴅɪɴɢ, ᴍᴀᴛɪɴɢ ᴘʀᴇꜱꜱ, ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴘʀᴀɪꜱᴇ ᴋɪɴᴋ. ɪꜰ ɪ ᴍɪꜱꜱᴇᴅ ᴀɴʏ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡ! ᴀꜱ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀᴘᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴀᴛᴇᴅ, ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ.

a/n: this was only suppose to be oral.. somehow it turned into this and i am now violently whoreknee.

ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ʜQ ᴍ.ʟɪꜱᴛ |  ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴍ.ʟɪꜱᴛ

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thinking about your friend, kento being there to comfort you when you broke up with your now ex boyfriend.

your friend, kento who always brings you as his plus one whenever his friends are hosting a party.

your friend, kento who checks up on you everyday. asking if you’ve eaten already, and if you haven’t, expect him knocking on your door holding takeouts.

your friend, kento who punched the guy that was eyeing you very wrong.

your friend, kento who makes sure that you’re always safe whenever you two get paired in missions.

your friend, kento who calls you when he can’t sleep. who’s a better company other than you, right?

your friend, kento who invites you to a dinner, making you wear something fancy.

your friend, kento who finally confessed about how he felt towards you.

your friend, kento who starts getting worried when to atmosphere started growing heavy. did he just ruin your friendship? what will happen now? were you surprised? will you ever talk to him again—

your friend, kento whose ears perk up when you finally said something.

your friend, kento who smiles when he heard you say ‘i like you, too, kento.’

your friend, kento who takes you out on dates at least 3-4 times a week.

your friend, kento whose heart almost jumps when you finally told him that you wanted to be his girlfriend.

your boyfriend, kento who loves and cherish you so much. throughout the months that you two have been together, the way he cared for you never faltered.

your boyfriend, kento who thinks of a way on how to put a ring on your finger... because, it’s only right that he makes you his, right?

They Can't Love You Like I Can (feat. Suna Rintarō)

WARNINGS: 18+ (NSFW) (MDNI), f!reader x Suna Rintarō, fingering (f!receiving), handjob (m!receiving), unprotected sex, jealousy sex, best friends to lovers

Request for @exaltedvalkyrie 💖 hope you like it, this was sm fun to write!

Interactions (comments, likes and reblogs) are much appreciated! ♥︎

Masterlist ✌︎

College parties are absolute trash. He’s known this for a long time, which is why he’d rather stay in his dorm, binge watching shows or something of the sorts. However, he knows you like them, which is why he forces himself to go every time.

Suna watches you from the distance, the way he’s always done when you aren’t looking. He downs the rest of his beer in one go, keeping the liquid in his mouth for just a second longer, plastic cup now empty in his hand.

It’s been like this for quite some time now — you find some random guy, flirt shamelessly with him, take him somewhere away from prying eyes and hook up. He’s watched the process multiple times, always with the same burning jealousy that makes his blood boil. He especially hates the part where you tell him exactly how they failed to satisfy you, because you never keep any details to yourself — you describe from the way their inexperienced hands roam your body to the way they practically asphyxiate you with their tongue and everything that happens after. And Suna just listens, because, as your best friend, that’s what he’s expected to do.

You’ve always taken his random, slightly bitter remarks about your miserable love (and sex) life as just him being a nice, concerned friend, so you never pay much attention to the rolls of his eyes or his low scoffs. You’ve always told yourself it’s brotherly love, that he couldn’t possibly see you as anything else. You’ve known each other for too long — shared too many moments together. You’re sure he only sees you as a sister.

Truth is, Suna has a not so small crush on his best friend. He gives a scornful chuckle at the thought; it’s silly to call it a simple crush. Suna Rintarō is —and it was extremely difficult to even admit it to himself— completely in love with you. Therefore, all he can do is watch from the distance, the way he’s been doing all night, as you smile up at your new random one night stand.

And he’s not the type of guy to say he’s happy if you are, because yes, your happiness is important to him —extremely so—, but he wants to be the reason for it. And it should be him; not some guy you’ve just met a couple hours ago.

His piercing green eyes remain on your frame from the moment you give that tantalizing smile that indicates you’ve found yourself successful to when you guide the douchebag (holding his hand, which makes him crush the plastic cup in his tight grip) toward the stairs and up. And, heaving a sigh, he strides toward the steps and sits at the bottom.

It’s not too long before he sees the guy you went upstairs with coming back down with a smug grin on his face (which he desperately wants to wipe with a well placed punch). He simply huffs, rolls his eyes and starts looking for you. He finds you in the bathroom, hunching over the sink as you look at yourself in the mirror with pursed lips. He quietly walks in, shuts the door behind him and leans against it. Suna watches you as you tiredly rub your eyes with an exasperated sigh, and he readies himself — he knows what that sigh means.

He straightens up and walks toward you to stand right behind you. You look into the mirror to meet his gaze, and he offers you a smile, which you return feebly.

“Hey, Rin,” you say. He hums, gathering your hair together so it’s not in the way. You take another look at your own reflection, a light frown making its way onto your face when your eyes study the smudged makeup on your lids. “God, I’m a mess.”

“A very pretty mess,” he says, placing his hands on your shoulders in what he hopes is a comforting gesture.

You fight the smile threatening to make an appearance.

“Even with my raccoon eyes?” you ask, pointing at your face.

“Especially with your raccoon eyes.”

You laugh and swat his hands away, turning away to rummage through the drawers until you find some makeup wipes, and start getting rid of the stain on your eyes. You took it as a joke, but he meant it. He does love it when you look like that, because you usually make sure to look your best, and this is something only he’s gotten to see. He likes the small moments kept between you two, like it’s a secret you’d only ever share with him. Those have always been his favorite moments.

When you give another deep sigh, his lips form a thin line. He doesn’t say anything, instead letting you do all the talking. And you proceed to tell him all about yet another miserable sexual encounter.

As you explain, you finish wiping your face and take your shirt off —he really tries to look away, but even though he’s seen you like that a couple times, he still can’t help the butterflies that wreck havoc in his stomach—, placing it under the tap to try to wash a big stain of… something. Might have happened when you accidentally knocked into someone on your way to the bathroom, but you’re not sure. Suna is quick to take off his jacket and place it over your shoulders, and you thank him mid rant and slide your arms in the long sleeves.

“He was rubbing so hard, Rin. It didn’t even feel good,” you groan. “It was just uncomfortable. And I’m pretty sure he came on record time, which obviously means that I didn’t.”

“That sucks,” he says in a low voice, trying to help you with your hair, running his fingers through it gently to undo the knots. He’s frowning deeply in what you assume is concentration, but really, he’s thinking that he hates the fact that the asshole left any trace of him on you, because how dare he.

“Right? I don’t think I’ve ever given a louder fake moan in my life, he was so bad. It was pretty convincing though, you should’ve heard it,” and then, to his horror, you proceed to imitate the moan —which is very convincing—, and then his jeans feel a little tighter. You suddenly turn around, and he leans against the sink and shifts his legs in a feeble attempt to hide his crotch from your view. Surprisingly, you don’t notice it. “You know what? At this point I think I should just give up. I’m never going to find the right guy,” you say with slumped shoulders.

You head toward the door and place your hand on the knob, but you’ve only just started opening it when Suna suddenly slams it back shut, hand pressed against it over your head. You jolt in your place, turning to give him a startled look.

“Rin? What are you—”

“Has it ever even crossed your mind that maybe you’ve been looking in the wrong place all along?”

You blink up at him, resting your weight against the wooden surface. There’s something in his eyes — something you haven’t seen before. Something intense, burning. It makes your stomach churn with something similar to excitement.

“What do you mean?” you whisper, and he lets out a shuddering breath.

He gets closer, and that’s when you feel his growing erection against you. Your eyes widen in surprise, and you instinctively try to take a step back, forgetting that there’s no space for you to actually do it. Suna tucks a strand of loose hair behind your ear, letting his hand wander downward to brush his fingertips against your throat, then trailing lower until they graze the mount of your breasts. His touch is barely there, ghosting over your skin like a whisper, yet it makes your heart race and your breath hitch in your throat.

Suna Rintarō, with a single touch, has managed to do what no one else has — leave you breathless.

“They could never satisfy you — not the way I could,” he murmurs, brushing his fingers against your crotch. The featherlight touch makes you squeeze your thighs together. “I could make you come so hard— make you scream so loud. I could make you forget about the whole fucking world… if only you let me. Because— fuck, I’ve wanted you for so long.” He brushes his nose along your neck and lets out a soft groan when your scent floods his senses.

“Suna Rintarō,” you say, gulping as you place your hands on his chest. He pulls back a little, and he suddenly looks terrified, because you never call him by his full name. He’s sure he’s fucked up — you’re going to tell him to go to hell, and you’ll never talk to him again. “You’re just drunk,” you say, which you already know to be a lie, because you have seen him absolutely plastered, and this is not it. “And horny. You’re going to wake up tomorrow and forget all about this.”

He strokes your cheek with the back of his hand with a light frown. Softly, he shakes head.

“I’m not,” he says, meaning he’s not drunk because he’s definitely horny. “Thing is, no matter how wasted I get, I haven’t been able to forget what I feel about you.” He knows this to be a fact, because he’s tried multiple times. “If anything I’ve only managed to forget my own name. But I can’t seem to forget yours.” You suck in a sharp breath, gulping once more when his lips brush against yours when he whispers, “Give me chance to show you what I can do. I’ll make you feel so good… please.”

Instead of giving him a direct answer, you tilt your head to capture his lips in yours, getting a groan out of him when you press your body flush against his. You’re confused when he pulls back.

“What?” you breathe out.

“I need to hear you say it.”

“I thought it was implicit — yes,” you say, latching your lips to his once more.

He doesn’t waste a single second, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you so close that not even a sheet of paper could fit between your bodies. His lips are desperate, devouring yours like you’re the last meal he’ll ever have, and he’s been starving for years.

His wide hands explore your body, his touch has you panting against his lips, especially when he slips a hand under your skirt to rub his fingers against you. He’s surprised to find your underwear to be already wet — he’s barely even started.

“Fuck,” he hisses, pushing your panties to the side to have more access.

Suna slides his fingers between your soaking folds, coating his fingers with your slick to circle your clit with gentleness. He’s not too rough; he applies just the right amount of pressure, goes just fast enough. It’s perfect.

He shudders visibly when you mewl softly in his ear, stifling his own moan against your lips as he meets them for another kiss. It’s crazy how much your moans turn him on; his jeans feel extremely asphyxiating, he’s painfully hard.

As if hearing his thoughts, you fumble with the button of his jeans and the zipper, making quick work of them to pull him out. His cock is warm and thick in your hand, head oozing pre-cum. You smear it along his shaft with a couple strokes, paying close attention to the sounds he lets out. You know you’ve found the right pace when his fingers hesitate against you and he lets out a soft, whiny whimper you never thought you’d hear him emit, and he curses through gritted teeth. His breath catches in his throat when you run your thumb along his slit, applying pressure. Suna can’t help bucking his hips lightly trying to match your rhythm.

“Wait, stop,” he gasps, clutching your wrist. You’re about to ask whether you did something wrong when you’re interrupted by your own, shaky whimper when he pushes one of his digits past your entrance and starts pumping slowly. “I want to focus on you,” he says. It’s not exactly a lie, but he’s not being entirely truthful. He actually stopped you because he was sure he was going to come if you touched him for a second longer, and that would have been coming on record time.

When he adds a second finger and curls them in a come hither motion, you moan, “Rin! God, don’t stop.” And he swears he almost passes out.

Hearing you moaning his name —something he had dreamed about, jerked off to the thought of it— drives him feral. His lips are on your neck, sucking and biting. He wants to leave a couple marks there, wants the world to know who finally managed to make you come. He’s imagined how you feel on countless occasions —usually late at night, when he’s by himself and has no other option but to relieve himself with his own hand (which, to be honest, he’s always thought of as pathetic)— but the thought of actually feeling you wrapped around him makes his cock twitch with need.

His fingers do wonders inside you, and you’re so wet that it’s easy for him to push a third finger in, using his thumb to rub your nub. And you don’t know if it’s just that he’s good, or the fact that it’s him, but you find yourself arching your back, mouth hanging open in a silent scream as you come around his fingers. You’re clenching them so hard Suna has to bite his lip to keep himself from moaning, and he just can’t wait a moment longer.

He unzips the jacket open, pushes your drenched panties down your legs, picks you up with ease and bunches up your skirt around your waist. His cock slides between your folds, he makes sure to coat it completely with your arousal so there won’t be any discomfort, because he just wants to make you feel as good as possible.

You squeeze your eyes shut and moan loudly against his neck when he starts pushing himself in inch by inch, pausing a couple times to allow you to adjust. And you thought you felt full with his fingers. Huh.

He whispers sweet nothings in your ear to comfort you, digging his fingers in the soft skin of your thighs when you clench around him. It takes everything in him to keep his hips still, he’s quick to apologize when he gives an involuntary thrust or two — but you just feel too good. That single squeeze almost makes him come on the spot.

“Rin, I don’t think I can— ngh.”

“You can take it,” he breathed out, struggling to keep a steady voice. “I know you can take it.”

And take it you do.

He gasps when he bottoms out — the way your tight cunt hugs his cock, how your walls still flutter from your previous orgasm, your heavy breathing in his ear — he must be dreaming. There’s just no way this is real. He wouldn’t be surprised, he’s had this dream infinite times already. But when you kiss him, oh, it’s real, all right.

He pulls back until he’s almost completely out and gives a gentle thrust to go back in, sharpening his hearing to catch even your lightest sigh as he continues giving experimental thrusts. He speeds up little by little until you’re clawing at his back, scrunching his shirt in your fists as he keeps the rhythm up, heaving pants against your cleavage. His breath is hot against your skin, his hands are warm and gentle as they roam your body freely, making sure not a single part of you is untouched — he wants to erase any trace the other guy might have left.

“Rin, fuck, more!”

You arch your back at an especially deep thrust, moaning his name loudly, tugging on his hair. He’s relentless, snapping his hips against yours over and over again until your legs tremble around his waist. He snakes a hand between your bodies to rub your clit again, the loud, wet, squelching sound of your pussy sucking him back in with each snap of his hips fills his ears, and he lets out a series of soft moans and whines against your chest, his voice rumbling against your skin.

“They could never touch you like this, make you feel like this,” he growls. He’s still jealous that others had a taste of you way before he did, and he wants to make things clear. He takes a bunch of your hair in his fist and pulls on it to expose your throat to him, which he marks a little more. “I’m the only one who’ll get to see you like this. I’m the only one this pussy belongs to,” he says, giving sharp pats on your clit that make you squirm against him. “They could never love you like I can.”

Your eyes snap open at that last sentence, but he doesn’t give you a chance to say anything — and it’s not like you could, what with the way he’s pounding into you. It’s not too long after that you’re creaming around his cock. You’ve never come so hard. You can tell he’s close by the way his breath catches and his hips stutter. Despite knowing you’re on the pill —you’ve literally told him everything there is to know—, Suna starts pulling out, but is stopped by you. You wrap your legs tightly around his waist and keep him in place, and he shoots you a panicked look.

“Y/N, let go, I gotta—”

“I want you to come inside me, Rin,” you gasp, clenching around him, and that’s the final straw.

He moans loudly, mouth hanging open as his abdomen contracts with spasms with each thick rope of cum he shoots deep inside you. He rides out his orgasm with a couple lazy thrusts, panting heavily and resting his head on your shoulder when you’ve drained every last drop he has to give.

Suna pulls out, grimacing at the sensitivity, and puts you down gently. Something catches his eye, and he looks down only to find his own semen slowly dripping down your thighs. He gulps, and watches you as you grab your discarded panties and slide them up your legs.

“Don’t want it to go to waste,” you say, looking him straight in the eyes, and he gives an incredulous, breathy laugh, because — what the fuck that was so hot. He has to look away and hold his breath to keep it down. “So,” you say casually, leaning back against the door. You don’t want him running away. “You said something.”

Suna blanches, and his eyes look at everything but you. He busies himself with pulling his jeans up.

“I said a lot of things,” he murmurs, scratching the back of his neck with a sheepish chuckle.

“All right, let me help you remember, then. It starts with L, and ends with ove.”

He deadpans at you, the way you said it making him forget his embarrassment for a second as he rolls his eyes.

“You can’t be serious.”

“The question is, were you?” you ask, taking a step forward. He pointedly averts his gaze, eyes downcast as he twiddles his thumbs. “When you said it?”

“Of course I was,” he admits in an almost inaudible whisper, but you’re still able to hear him. It’s the most honest you’ve seen him. “Do you… not want me to be serious about it?”

He fears the answer, but he has to know it. If all you want is to be friends with benefits, he’ll take it. He’ll take whatever you give him — anything you give him.

“I like that you are,” you say, peering up at him and brushing his damp hair back. “Because I’m serious about it too.”

His eyes snap up to meet yours, a dumbfounded expression taking over his features. You did not just say you reciprocate his feelings.

“So… hypothetically speaking,” he starts, trying to find the words. “If I were to ask you out on a date, what would you say?”

You give him a bright smile, placing a soft kiss on his cheek and patting it lightly, cupping it afterwards. He leans into your touch.

“Non-hypothetically speaking, I’d say yes.”

Stepdad Nanami forcefully shoving two thick fingers into your mouth for you to suck on, in hopes of keeping you quiet while he's frantically snapping his hips into your welcoming cunt to relieve some stress from work.

His hands grip your mellowed thighs, spreading them further apart on your desk as his unbuttoned work shirt hangs open, revealing his sweat-slicked, blond hairy chest. Droplets of sweat trailing down his chest and abs… He was supposed to be helping you with your chemistry homework but instead he’s panting and trying his best to stifle his moans on top of you because of the way your tight pussy is fighting to milk his cock dry :(

His cock immediately starts twitching erratically against your warm walls when he hears your mom knocking on your bedroom door to let the two of you know that dinner is ready. After a few sinful minutes later, you head down together, acting as if nothing happened.

The only thing is that you have a sore cunt crammed full of your stepdad’s seed that he’s been saving up in his fat balls all day— waiting to rightfully dispose of it all into his stepdaughter’s hole, to the point where it’s overflowing and steeping down your thighs and onto the chair as you eat dinner.

It’s only a matter of time before Kento is sneakily snaking his calloused hand up your skirt and plugging up your creampied cunt with his fingers to keep his cum in, so he can clean you up with his tongue properly afterwards while he’s telling your mom about how stressful his day was at work.

roommate!eren hc

genre: sfw, nsfw headcannons

parings: erenxreader

cw: mostly gn sfw+nsfw, cheating, voyeurism (kinda), mentions of masturbation+cream pie+squirting ,eren is a little pervert occasionally.

an: this really isnt that proofread but it was in my drafts so i’m clearing it out. :(( noo actually tho this eren is always my fav, it just seems like it would be nice to live with him.

roommate!eren is so cliche or.. something but like ugh I eat it up all the time.

like roommate!eren who doesn’t like your current boyfriend. gets so obviously jealous telling them to fuck off when they so much as say hi to him, you’ve lost count how many times you had to prevent a heated altercation.

roommate!eren feels like it's justified though .He barely takes you out, your excuse for that being “we haven't been together that long. " bullshit they should’ve been giving you the world from day one. complains and cancels your movie night because you want to watch your favorite sci-fi show, they think is lame. you watch that shit constantly, rambling about the plot first thing in the morning. So Eren is one step ahead to immediately cuddle on the couch with you instead, laughing at your stupid little jokes about a character. let's not forget when they even FORGOT your birthday once. leaving you too upset to even celebrate with Eren at home. He lets you cry in his arms after you start bawling when he bakes you a cake anyways. They just don’t treat you the way he would.

roommate!eren who’s so whipped he’s always in househusband mode for you. cooking your favorite food and cleaning the house when you’re too bummed out from work. buying your favorite wine and ice cream to share. might even wear that ridiculous apron you got him for his birthday one year.

roommate!eren often promotes the shit talk of your partner. you feel a little bad when you give in, but everyone does it, right? everyone has relationship problems they need to rant drunkenly about. Eren cannot help but explode into the loudest laugh when you tell him they haven’t made you cum. that shit right there is the fucking trigger to try and pull you in “maybe you should let me show you hmm?” he jokes, hoping you’re drunk enough to say yes.

roommate!eren doesn't believe you at first no. how could someone be so dismissive of your pleasure? and willingly miss out on things he's only seen in his dreams. like your eyes rolling back choking on spit and babbling about how you want to cum while you choke on his fingers. he doesn't believe it until you're eager to kick your boyfriend out and he hears a low buzz coming from your room just minutes later.

roommate!eren stands in front of your door to beat his dick. it's your fault, wouldn't have to if you didn't muffle your moans into your pillow. His teeth bite onto the fabric of his shirt drool wetting it till it feels almost mushy. his hand is soaked with his own spit and precum dripping at his feet. He really hopes you hear him moan your name when he's about to cum. wishes you'd help him and take his cum down your throat so he doesn't have to clean up his mess.

now roommate!eren he knows it’s a little shitty.. and manipulative to make a move when you're so vulnerable, but that one night you come home crying from an argument he’s all over you. pulling you into a tight hug and wiping your tears. you can’t help but fall for him and he can’t resist kissing your pouty lips when those watery eyes look up at him.

naturally, roommate!eren's ego is through the fucking roof when he finally gets you under him, feeling like a god when he makes you squirt for the first time ever. you’re moaning so loud for him drooling and shaking at every thrust, god his dick game is fucking deadly.

your roommate!eren won’t admit it but he’s a sucker for praise letting out cute whines when you tell him how big he is and how “it’s okay if you cum inside, feels so good so I’ll let you”.

roommate!eren is such a fucking cocky bitch asking you “who's pussy is this now huh? full fucking name baby” knowing you can barely speak while his cock is so deep inside of you, pushing his cum into you. He can't keep his eyes off of the way it leaks and sticks the two of you together. considers recording your act of submission for him and his cum stuffed in your pretty hole so he can give in his own words “your shrimp dick of a boyfriend” a reality check.

hneycxmb™ circa:4.22 no reposts/ translations without credit reblogs appreciated :’)

Your relationship with Sukuna was on its last legs. You tried to make things work, but he was as difficult as it could get, and mean. After a particularly terrible fight, the two of you made up, and you began to hope again. Later that night, his friends called, inviting him to the club. You told him you weren’t comfortable with it. He agreed to stay, even tucking you into bed.

But once you fell asleep, he snuck out.

Things went downhill from there.

Sukuna and his friends drank heavily, and soon he was caught up in the chaos—laughing, dancing, and losing control. While you slept, his friends began posting videos online: Sukuna receiving a lap dance, drunk and kissing another girl, clearly high and out of his mind.

When you woke up, you reached over to find his side of the bed cold and empty. You thought he had left early for work. But then your phone started blowing up with messages from friends and strangers alike. Your heart pounded as you unlocked it and opened Instagram, only to see the posts.

One after another, each post felt like a knife to your chest—Sukuna smiling lazily, his hands on another woman, his lips brushing hers. You could see the flashing lights, hear the blaring music, and feel the sting of betrayal in every picture and clip. Your fingers trembled, and your vision blurred with tears as you watched in disbelief.

The room felt like it was spinning. You tried to steady yourself, but the weight of it all was crushing. How could he do this to you, especially after you had been so open, so vulnerable about your feelings? After he had promised to stay?

You had told him, in the heat of making up, that this was his last chance. You were clear: if he messed up again, you were packing your things and going back to the States. He had looked you in the eyes and promised. And yet, he still went and did this.

Meanwhile, Sukuna was still sleeping, his head pounding and the room spinning. He didn’t remember a damned thing the night before. He remembered sneaking out, thinking he’d make it back before sunrise, slip back into bed, and act like nothing happened. You were just being too dramatic, he thought. You’d told him how you didn’t like his friends, that they hated you and were trying to break the two of you up. He’d laughed it off as paranoia. Crazy talk.

He vaguely remembered drinking a shot—just one—and after that, things got hazy. He didn’t believe for a second that his friends would spike his drink.

No, they’d never do that… right?

But now, as he blinked his eyes open, he realized something was very wrong. Next to him was a woman he didn’t recognize, definitely not you. The sunlight was streaming through the window, and panic shot through his body like a jolt of electricity. His heart raced as he sat up, the events of the night before still a foggy blur.

“Oh, shit,” he muttered under his breath, his mind starting to piece together the fragments. You two had just made up—how could he have been so reckless?

Sukuna fumbled for his phone, his hands shaking. The screen lit up, showing the time: 12:46. His heart sank even further. He really had messed up this time. The battery was about to die, a thin red line warning him he had little time left. He glanced around, trying to make sense of the unfamiliar room.

What confused him most was that he was still in his clothes from the night before. A small relief—at least he hadn’t slept with the woman next to him. But that didn’t matter much, did it? He was still in bed with another woman, a stranger, and that alone was enough to shatter whatever trust you had left in him.

His head throbbed with a dull, pounding pain, a mix of alcohol and regret. He desperately needed water, but his feet felt glued to the floor. As he forced himself to sit up, the room seemed to spin around him. He rubbed his temples, trying to shake off the fog of the hangover, but his mind remained a jumbled mess.

He checked his phone again, scrolling through the flood of messages, but your name wasn’t among them. No missed calls, no texts, no messages. Just silence.

It took you two hours to get yourself to function properly. When something traumatic happened, you had this tendency to just shut down. No crying, no shouting—just silence. You couldn’t even talk right now. You sat on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the wall, your mind numb. The pain was so immense that it felt like nothing at all, a hollow void where your heart should be.

Slowly, you got up, moving like you were underwater, every step heavy and disjointed. You made your way to the bedroom closet and grabbed a suitcase, your hands moving on autopilot. You began packing everything you owned in this place, methodically folding clothes, stacking books, gathering small, personal items that had once made this space feel like home. Now, every object felt like a weight dragging you down.

You didn’t remember much from those moments, only flashes of despair and confusion. Your mind was clouded, a fog of grief settling over you. All you knew was that you wanted to disappear, to somehow escape the unbearable ache in your chest.

How could this happen? Why? The questions repeated in your mind, over and over, like a broken record. Were you not enough? Was he cheating this whole time?

Your thoughts spiraled into a dark place, each one more suffocating than the last. The silence of the room pressed in around you, amplifying every doubt, every fear. You felt lost in a sea of uncertainty, desperately searching for something to hold onto, but finding nothing but emptiness.

You paused for a moment, standing still in the middle of the room, clutching a shirt to your chest. You wanted to scream, to cry, to do anything, but no sound came out. All that filled you was a deep, aching void that left you feeling more alone than ever before.

Just as you finished packing, the door opened, but you didn't flinch. Your fingers continued scrolling through your phone, searching for flight tickets. You didn’t care where it would take you—anywhere but here.

Sukuna stepped inside, his expression a mix of confusion and panic. You didn’t look up. Your face remained calm, almost eerily so, as if you were in a trance. You kept scrolling, your focus entirely on the screen, like it was the only thing anchoring you to reality.

“Where are you going?” he asked, his voice tight with panic. But you said nothing.

Your face was expressionless, your eyes fixed on your phone. He moved closer, desperate now. “Please,” he continued, “can’t we just… talk?”

Finally, you paused, letting out a slow, controlled breath. But you didn’t look at him. Your silence was deafening, more unnerving than any yelling or screaming could have been.

He swallowed hard, sensing the change, feeling the weight of your silence pressing down on him. “I… I didn’t mean for this to happen,” he tried again. "I don’t even remember what happened. I think I was drugged or something..." His voice grew softer, almost pleading now.

You continued to tap the screen, the sound of your fingers the only noise in the room. You found a flight and pressed "book," moving methodically, as if this was just another task on a list. Your calmness was unnerving, like the quiet before a storm.

“Y/N… please,” Sukuna whispered, taking another step forward, but your detachment made him falter.

You finally glanced up at him, your expression unreadable, your voice steady and calm. “I'm leaving,” you said quietly, as if stating a simple fact.

He blinked, stunned by the flatness of your tone. There was no anger, no emotion—just a cold, stark finality. “But… we can work this out,” he stammered, “right?”

You looked back at your phone, as if he were no longer even there. You were done listening, done hoping, done believing. His words were just noise now, meaningless in the face of everything he had broken.

Sukuna was a big man, another reason you had fallen in love with him. Being with him had made you feel so safe, so happy. But when you reached for your suitcase, he finally broke.

He snatched it out of your hand. "No, no, you're not leaving me," he insisted, his voice frantic. "Look, please just listen. I know I lied to you and snuck out, but I swear I would never cheat on you."

You stood still, watching him, his large frame towering over you, his eyes wide with fear and desperation. But your heart felt like ice. You could see the panic in his eyes, hear the tremor in his voice, but it didn’t matter. Not anymore.

His hands gripped the suitcase so tightly that his knuckles turned white. "Please," he begged again, "just… don’t go."

For a moment, you almost felt something—a flicker of the love you used to feel. But it was gone as quickly as it came. “Let go,” your voice is calm and steady.

“No, look, I would do anything,” he blurted out, his voice rising with desperation. “Okay, I see now why you don’t like my friends. I’ll cut them out. I won’t ever talk to another girl again. Just… anything. Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. Please.”

He was a mess, still hungover, his head pounding, his hands trembling. His breath came in ragged gasps as he struggled to keep it together, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. He looked so close to breaking down completely.

Why did he make this mistake? Why did he let himself slip up so badly? You had given him a chance, and he had blown it in mere hours. The realization seemed to dawn on him, his face twisting with guilt and regret. His shoulders sagged, and his voice broke. "I don’t want to lose you,” he whispered, his tone raw with fear.

But it didn’t matter anymore. Whatever he was offering now felt hollow, too little, too late. Your heart felt heavy, but your mind was made up.

"Let go," you repeated, firmer this time, your eyes locking onto his.

Sukuna's hand fell away from the suitcase as if it weighed a ton, his breath hitching. He wanted to fight, to argue, but the defeat in your eyes left him lost. “I’m so sorry,” he mumbled, his voice almost inaudible, choking on his own words.

But all you did was nod, a small, almost imperceptible nod, and turn toward the door.

He stood there, his whole world crumbling, as you walked away.

🧍🏻‍♀️

YOUR TEETH IN MY NECK | ARMIN ARLERT.

➳ synopsis. you’re new to the university and already struggling with classes. it’s a good thing your ‘friendly’ classmate, armin, offers to help. where would you be without him?

➳ contains. bimbo!reader, nerd!armin, college au, filthy praise/degradation, slight fear play, manipulation, condescension, voyeurism, sadism (if you squint), lying, library sex, slight dubcon, creampie, perverted behavior, unprotected sex, 18+ mdni.

➳ word count. 3,576

the vacant corridor felt like a slew of mazes as you tread along the unfamiliar path, keeping your eyes up above the many doors you passed in search for the name of your teacher that was brazenly written on your schedule. it was bad enough that it was your first day of school but to make matters worse, you also transferred in the middle of the semester.

when the recognizable name, paired with the room number came into your line of sight on the dark oak sign bolted into the wall, you slowly opened the door, certain that this was the class you were supposed to be in.

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pervert kenma,,,,my gosh👩‍🍳🤌

𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚝!𝚔𝚎𝚗𝚖𝚊

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴋᴇɴᴍᴀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴡᴄ: 767

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ᴛʜɪʀꜱᴛ, ᴍᴅɴɪ 18+

ᴛᴡ: ᴘᴀɴᴛʏ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟɪɴɢ, ᴄᴀʀ ꜱᴇx, ɪᴍᴘʟɪᴇᴅ ᴄᴏᴄᴋᴡᴀʀᴍɪɴɢ, ᴏʀᴀʟ, ᴠᴏʏᴇᴜʀɪꜱᴍ, ᴇxʜɪʙɪᴛɪᴏɴɪꜱᴍ, ᴛʜʀᴏᴀᴛ ꜰᴜᴄᴋɪɴɢ, ᴅᴀᴅᴅʏ ᴋɪɴᴋ, ᴘᴇᴛ ɴᴀᴍᴇ "ᴋɪᴛᴛᴇɴ". ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴍɪꜱꜱᴇᴅ ᴀɴʏ!

ᴀꜱ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀᴘᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴀᴛᴇᴅ, ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ.

a/n: honestly.. not too proud ouf this one?? like i feel like i knew what i wanted to say but couldn't necessarily get my words out onto paper?? regardless i hope you enjoy!

ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴇʀᴠᴇʀᴛ! ᴍ.ʟɪꜱᴛ | ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴍ.ʟɪꜱᴛ

pervert!kenma.. kenma, in general, makes my pussy quake... but pERVERT!KENMA??? let's talk about it.

pervert!kenma is really laid back, but when he wants something, he’s going to get it. point, blank, period.

we all know kenma is a streamer. he plays games for a living. what’s his second favorite thing other than streaming? having you sit pretty on your knees underneath his desk. he makes sure always to wear low-hanging sweats, that way, you can easily pull them down and have full access to his cock. he loves the feeling of your wet mouth keeping his cock nice and warm. he does this the entire time he’s streaming. whenever he reads a comment he dislikes or a particular level is upsetting him, he’ll make sure to release his anger by pounding your throat. he’ll display a “be back later!” banner on his stream and mute his microphone. he’ll move a hand away from his keyboard, it finding purchase in your hair and gripping at the roots of your locks. at this moment in time, you’re nothing but a toy, a stress reliever for kenma. his hand drags your head along his cock, curses, and groans flying past his lips each time you gag around him. he’s fully utilizing his 15 minutes. <3

pervert!kenma loves to hold special events on his stream… special events where you’re playing games for him. his fans and followers think he’s busy for the day and has his significant other substituting for him or even just letting you have fun on his account. but in reality, he’s only switched spots with you. you’re always so pretty and obedient for him, getting on your knees when told. why not return the favor? pervert!kenma has your legs slightly spread and his head wedged between your thighs. pink tinted lips wrap around your sensitive nub and suck. he’d be a liar if he said watching you struggle to play and talk with the viewers wasn’t entertaining. the quiver in your voice, how you’re trying to wriggle away from him, has him overflowing with animalistic lust.

“y/n are you okay? me? i-i’m fine!” you stutter out.

“why are you stuttering so much? is the game scary?”

“you can stop playing if you’re sick!”

“please take care of yourself!”

one by one, you read the comments aloud while kenma tends to your leaking pussy, slurping and gulping down your sweet, sweet juices.

pervert!kenma loves spoiling you and insists on buying you everything you could ever want, but of course, he buys you things he wants you to have. and it’s always the skimpiest little outfits. tight shirts that hug your breasts, tiny skirts that stop at the middle of your thigh, ones so tiny that if you bend down, everyone would have a complete view of your ass. pervert!kenma loves the gawks and random stares you get when prancing around in said outfits. he can practically read the filthy thoughts going through people's minds when they see you. it riles him up because while they’re thinking it, he’s the only one who can act on those impure thoughts.

this routine is the same, and it always ends with you face down, ass up in the back of kenma’s car. both of his hands grip onto your waist and guide you along his shaft, cum filled balls slapping and bouncing off your puffy pussy lips.

“ken ken, please~.”

“please, what? you look so pretty, kitten. do me favor?” he says before leaning down, his chest pressed against your back as he whispers in your ear, “shut up and let daddy fuck you. and don’t make a mess on my leather seats, i would hate to have to punish you.”

he literally makes you squirt uncontrollably on purpose, so he has a reason to punish you <3

days when pervert!kenma has to go into his office to handle in-person business, he always brings the necessities; himself, headphones, and a pair of your worn panties. when all of his meetings are concluded, he’ll prop his phone up and lean back in his chair. you're not met with a hi, hello, or even his face, no. you’re met with a swollen tip, one that's oozing precum, and your favorite pair of light pink panties wrapped around his shaft. his hips are thrusting sloppily up into his hand, imagining the cloth was your wet cunt. his eyes lock onto you, his tongue slipping out to wet his lips before mumbling, “be a good kitten, and show me your pussy, yeah? let daddy see you. ”

taglist: @shalnarkswhoree @ushijimasslut @kawaiikooki @fiona782 @yaqueerqueen @papitoshi @omiikeii @SATISFYINGLYBLUE @crapimahuman @shdwgarden @tirzamisu @booksweet @kisseswithkai @itsmeteiiteii @babydai @matssuncxmslxt @bakugobaki @tifhen @tithesandofferings @dadbodosamu @eternallyvenus @devilgirlcrybabiey @fsrintaro @mid-night-blossoms @cheryly @cinnamonwishes @hisvillainess