Lmfao This Is Funny As Well As Wholesome

ok but Ghost who realizes how much his size turns you on and then can’t keep himself from emphasizing it whenever you’re around. Spreads his thighs when he’s sitting to take up more space. Rolls his shoulders back and straightens to his full height when you walk through the door (his posture is already military-grade, but it’s that last infinitesimally small, casual slouch that disappears when you’re in the room in favour of emphasizing his height). Starts wearing shorter sleeves or rolling up his sleeves to show off the pronounced muscle of his forearms. Whenever it’s just the two of you, he always has a hand on you somewhere, showing you how much space his hand takes up on you, how much of you he can fit in his palm.

Kissing Ghost on the forehead

Masterlist Kissing König on the forehead

Simon tried to protect you from Ghost, he really did. It was not that Ghost would hurt you in any way, no. And of course, it was not a disease or mental disorder of any kind - it's a coping mechanism. But once the mask was on - Ghost appeared softly and silently. And Ghost could do things, that Simon couldn't. Things, he wouldn't ever want you to witness.

He never made a huge mystery of his work - he just didn't give away too many details. Simon didn't even hide his masks - he just asked you to not touch him, when he's wearing one of them.

"It's dusty, I wouldn't want your hands to get dirty." When in reality, he wouldn't want your entire being to get corrupted.

Ghost was to be kept out of your house and Simon made sure, you never saw each other. Little did he know, you had your ways not only around people, but around symbols as well.

His last day at home was coming to an end: in the morning he had to leave for a long deployment. Simon packed his things, leaving the mask atop of his open bag.

The rays of the setting sun painted the rooms with large windows in shades of red and gold. He absorbed every moment, breathed in and tried to remember barely distinguishable smells and sounds that filled your house, walked aimlessly through the rooms when he saw this. You sat on the edge of your bed, next to his bag, holding his mask in front of you. Your eyes were screwed shut as you pressed your forehead against the cracked, grayish surface of the mask. It was as if Ghost was kneeling in front of you, letting you touch his forehead with yours. Simon froze, part of him wanted to end this scene right there, but he hesitated, not wanting to scare you.

You slowly opened your eyes and looked deep into the empty holes in the mask. Your lips parted and you spoke almost inaudibly.

"Protect him and bring him back to me alive."

Simons' heart skipped a beat, when he understood, you were speaking not to him, but to the Ghost behind his mask.

And then, when he thought, this strange conversation was over - you brought the mask to your lips and kissed its forehead. Simon was standing in good 10–15 meters from you, but he could swear, he almost felt your soft and tender touch. Anything he ever knew, anything both he and Ghost were capable of, crumbled and slowly disappeared before your wish. Anything, that still kept meaning both to Simon and Ghost from this very moment, was that wish.

"Bring him back alive."

Sukuna bringin in a Hindu bride 💳💥💳💥 DO YOU SEE THE VISION???

wait wait wait I SEEE hold awn i got you

Ryomen Sukuna and his Hindu!Bride

a/n: beyond my idea of loving this dynamic, i think this would fit so perfectly. plus that's his damn aesthetic iyk?!

It's the moment you, his pretty pretty Hindu!Bride walks down the petal aisle, Ryomen Sukuna sees the goddess of his very own eudaimonia in your ethereal beauty of jewel covered figure. Holding a garland as if reins to his power.

Hindu!Bride who addresses him as “Swami” which means 'master of self' (master, in general) —he's enthralled. Way to fuel your husband I guess.

Husband!Sukuna learns the word “Ardhangini” is how a husband calls his wife, connoting 'the better half' of him.

“Indeed you are” Sukuna coos internally, looking at his beautiful wife who touches his feet gently as a sign of respect and humility, to seek his blessings.

His grinch little heart would flutter at the sight of his woman blushing about the smallest of his acts, or whenever he complies to your request, big tender fingers putting vermillion on her parted hairline—the very sign of her wifehood.

-

Husband!Sukuna never liked a cooked meal; he used to eat the raw flesh each day, until enters his new wife in the godforsaken scullery. It's a first that a queen enters the kitchen to serve, first time he tasted something entirely different to his taste... saporous, still ended up liking it. There are a lot of firsts he experiences with you by his side.

“Not... bad” he grumbles, his lips betraying and twitching into a slight grin. Delicious... he thinks, because Sukuna can get used to this flavour rich meal already. Just how perfect can his little Miss perfect get?

-

Husband!Sukuna who allows you to put pretty earings on him, he'd spend a little more time looking at himself in the mirror. Maybe he loves your compliments too much.

But nothing parallels his Hindu!Bride clad in golden jewelleries head to toe. Your long hair and the forehead, honey toned face, the arms and wrists, your plump waist and even your lotus like feet... that all makes him a poet whose favourite genre is your jewelled guise.

Maybe that's why he calls you a treasure. His treasure. There's a sort of pride filling his chest when he walks with you with the way you dress; you need high maintenance and lot of care that no man but he can provide.

-

And their goes a saying that a woman acts like a mom to the one in love with—that's so true with you and your Husband!Sukuna cause you literally baby him whenever the chance. Feeding him the first bite with your henna decorated pretty palm, he loves that so much. Likes the smell it adds to whatever you make him eat.

But can you blame yourself? He is a baby. A sulky big baby at that. Sulking when he finds his other side of the bed empty, sulking when you leave his chambers without permission, sulking cause you were too busy to give him kisses or just purely to get your attention.

He makes sure you see him sulk.

-

It's just you who can walk in on him when he's throwing and thrashing things around in rage—unaffected. Everyone in this palace knows that's a privilege only you get, because you're his only one.

No one dares hold his face and look him in the eyes like his Hindu!Bride. No one dares order him to “calm the fuck down” like his queen. Literally none in the three worlds would cradle the big soft-haired head of the King of Curses in their lap to tell him he's a grumpy little child.

That's how it has always been between you two, completing and fitting each other's pieces like Yin & Yang. You couldn't be happier anywhere out of this trance of love you're in for him and he couldn't even imagine to successfully manage a day without his treasure. There couldn't have been a better pair, never could have he met a woman to match his devotion for her.

TAGS: @anubisisthebomb @dianagracesworld @stellagrangerreads12 @momochina-sama @xxkay15xx @whodoesthatanymore @heresan @nanamikentoseyebags @4sat0ruu

been thinking abt @xxnghtclls 's fic Permission & this ♡

【 ꜱʏᴍᴘᴛᴏᴍꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇꜱ 】 m.list

x pairing professor!gojo x med student f!reader (medical au)

x summary he's arrogant, self-centered, and he's your professor. renowned for his brilliance in neurosurgery and infamous for his allure. too bad you have to work with him on this research team. now you're stuck with dr. satoru gojo, delving into the complexities of both the brain and the heart—and of how far you'd go for a love that could destroy not only him but you as well.

x status ongoing (no schedule)

x wc 91.7 k / ??

x warnings [18+] this story contains substance abuse/addiction, (rough) smut, mature themes, self-destructive behavior, (heavy) angst, mentions of death / illness / blood / abuse, graphic medical procedures. reader discretion is advised.

x additional things age difference, university, neuroscience, surgeries, dark content, satoru is a green flag with a lot of issues, i can fix him, he falls first & falls so hard it'll probably destroy him, he's a bit stupid and insane, you're brilliant, complicated relationships, chaos, alcohol, smoking, geto is also a hot surgeon

playlist + ao3 + wattpad

x taglist open (just comment)

x chapters

chapter 01 | stepping into the surgeon's circle

chapter 02 | bandaid

chapter 03 | shattered porcelain

chapter 04 | flowers and rain

chapter 05 | consume

chapter 06 | after every decision

chapter 07 | old friends

chapter 08 | setting sun

chapter 09 | dying light

more to come...

pls let me know if i missed anything (especially content warning).

Hibernation would fix me

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simon ‘ghost’ riley and his strength

masterlist | i’m about to throw up,, not rly nsfw

simon ‘ghost’ riley is not your average man and he knows it. he’s tall, his built is much bigger than your delicate little frame and he can bench your body weight like it’s nothing.

he only notices how his size affects you when he came from behind, caging you between the desk and himself. from stuttering your words, to gulping and getting red, he notices how the only thing you fixate on is how he’s towering over you. he let’s out a chuckle, how adorable are you? now he knows your little secret. simon has a shit eating grin plastered on his face under his mask. ‘oh i’m gonna have so much fun with this,’ he thinks to himself.

from subtly flexing his muscles, to wearing compression shirts that outline his god-like muscles, he does everything in his power to make you a shy blushing mess. he lifts heavy things, cages you from behind when he reaches things that you can’t (he purposefully places them higher up so you ask for his help), to bending down to your level so he can listen, to constantly placing his hand on your inner thigh, he’s a menace.

his hands are so rough, calloused and big, they cover your entire waist. especially, how he keeps his hand on your lower back to guide you, knowing the effect it'll have. fucking asshole uses his hand to hold your entire hair in a ponytail, whispering such unholy things in your ear, “you don’t know how much i’m holding myself back, love,” to “we are leaving. now.”

he can’t help but grin foolishly when you sit on his lap as if it’s made for you. “that’s my pretty girl, hm?” he praises, stroking your hair. simon never let’s you out of his iron grip. you can barely budge on the days he decides to pin you down, one hand enough to pin both your wrists.

and how insanely strong he is. he picks you up so effortlessly, one hand on your waist and then you’re thrown over his shoulder, with a playful smack to your behind. when you play fight him, normally, simon let’s out a laugh at your attempts to cage him but then something changes and he flips you over, his deep gravelly voice muttering, “haven’t even used half of my strength with you, sugar.”

he manhandles you so much and he’s so mean about it! from saying, “aren’t you just a doll?” to “i know this is what you want” to “look at you fucking ogling every time i enter the room. can’t get enough of me, yeah?”

all in all, simon enjoys enjoys that you’re so fascinated by his strength and size, whispering to himself something about how you're ‘the most cutest little thing’ he’s ever seen.

I READ DAD BOD LEON AND LIKE JDFKD imagine praising him and getting him all flustered and needy and just 😭 he is such a hottie I NEED HIM sorry im just a lil feral abt him

GRAHHHH YES !!!!

cw: leon finally in his retirement era ??? (probably not canon but we can only hope), chubby leon, older leon, body worship, very light scent thing, a messy blowjob, he’s insecure at first the poor thing, uhhhh not proofread <3

w/c: 1.5k

like, leon is sooooo relieved when he’s (somehow) allowed to retire. genuinely probably just passes out for a good couple of days, drowsy and catching up on years of sleep he missed for a month or so. takes things day by day, waning contentedly through different hobbies, interests, just trying to like…. find his personality back after basically becoming the governments dog for the most of his adult life.

and some things really like … don’t click at first.

that he’s not nearly as active without the physically demanding day to day. the mission every other month or so that sheds him of all his bodies resources, the ones that basically force upon him that consistently low body fat percentage. sure, he still works out because at this point, it’s weird Not To after putting in so much physical work for so long.

but he’s older now, his metabolism has changed. commercial gyms don’t exactly offer the same amount of intensity that his body is so used to having to work through. and naturally, parts of him grow complacent. he eats more, rightfully so. actually has the time to go out to eat on a consistent basis, and doordash is viewed as a god sent app.

he doesn’t really notice the pounds that have crept up on him until suddenly his favorite pair of jeans doesn’t need a belt to keep them up anymore. it’s when he tucks in his shirt for a more upscale night out that he realizes his button down is more fitted against him than maybe it was the last time he dug out his nicer clothes.

but once he realizes it, he shies away from it, avoids changing in front of mirrors. and when he starts refusing to change in front of you that you notice.

sure, leon was always attractive in your eyes. but it was never the muscles, the trim ‘v’ of his waistline that kept you around. you loved him, genuinely so. and to have him around more often, able to revel in some of the domestic things you couldn’t exactly soak up when he was still an agent? it’s like heaven on earth with him.

so when you notice the slight increase in his weight — the softness that begins to pad his strong biceps when he wraps his arms around you from behind, the extra bit you’re able to hold onto when you hug him — you don’t point it out. it’s welcomed, has you touching him a bit more than maybe necessary nowadays.

the first time he abruptly turns around when you walk in while he was changing, you don’t question it. it’s when he starts to dim the lights before the two of you topple onto the bed in a passionate display that you grow suspicious. your last straw is plucked when he starts coming to bed with a shirt on. an oversized one at that. he had never worn shirts to bed before, always complained about the materials feeling against him becoming irritating throughout the night.

he tries to deny when you first confront him. plays off the way the newfound pliant skin of his sides swells out over the top of his jeans waistband. shakes his head and makes a face at you, even goes so far as to roll his eyes when you reason with him, pointing out his recent ‘preference’ of keeping the lights lower when you fuck.

“I think you’re imagining this, sweetheart. I’m still sexy,” he reasons cheekily, trying to distract you with his cheesy nature.

“I didn’t say you’re not sexy,” you sigh, shaking your head. “You’re definitely still sexy. I’m just saying you look sexy with the extra bit on you,” you hum, leaning against the bedroom door.

it takes Leon a second, trying to allow ‘sexiness’ and ‘weight’ to coexist in his head. at least not in terms of himself. he loved women, all shapes and bodies and weights included. it was a no brainer to say that yes, your logic that sexiness could coexist with more weight was correct. but on him…? he’s Leon Kennedy. he’s not fat.

“Nor am I saying you’re fat, not by a long shot,” you continue, knowing all too well what that look on his face meant. the one he wore when he was thinking too hard about something.

he tries not to flinch when your hands reach out, capturing his sides. tries to stifle the sound that wants to escape when he realizes how much more sensitive the skin there is now with the extra weight. but the pounding of his heart and heat emanating off his body tells you all you need to know. so you continue.

you’re unashamed in how you explore how pliant his sides are now, in how you trace along where the firm cut lines of his abs formerly were. gently pinching and filling your fingers with the extra skin that lies over his lower abdomen, flattening your palm over the swell there and letting it fill your palm. his breath hitches, hands twitching at his sides, itching to slide your hands off him. he yearns to step out of your grasp, but knows that’ll be too telling. so he lets you continue, let’s you have your fun.

the button of his jeans pops audibly, and it’s clear that maybe he’s gonna have to let his favorite pair go pretty soon. but that’s okay. it’s obvious how okay it is when you slide his shirt up, up, up and out of the way. when your lips finds his sternum, trailing up and down its length before moving on to his pecs. silently appreciating how they’ve swelled a bit, how the hair that scatters across his skin has seemingly spread more. you tuck your nose in, inhaling him appreciatively when you slide your fingers under the waistband of his jeans, start to shimmy the denim down.

and oh god, you’re slowly lowering yourself, letting your lips ghost over his stomach now. you’ve grown sloppier, greedier in how you lick up the salt of his skin, bite into and suck at the pliant flesh. as if a fever had overcome you.

and really, that’s not all that far fetched of an idea. it was like you were seeing him naked for the first time all over again. except he’s softer, warmer… easier to paw and play with. responsive when your hands knead at his sides, his pecs. breathless and panting when he realizes his nipples are more sensitive for some reason when you drag the pads of your thumbs over them.

he could’ve gone bright pink when you ask him to strip completely. in front of the mirror no less. but he obliges, although begrudgingly. maybe a bit more hesitantly when you roll your desk chair over in front of the floor to ceiling mirror, instructing him to sit down. but that dissolves when you settle on your knees in front of it, as if sweetening the deal.

he doesn’t expect you to be so …. eager when you finally get yours hands on him. but fuck does he look good. softened thighs spread, the perfect mix between strong and soft in front of you. his soft cock, laid oh so prettily between them, ever so full balls nestled there. you really can’t help how quickly you find yourself burying your face into him, breathing him in and mouthing at his thighs.

your hands are greedy, so very greedy in how you grab at him. his thighs, the stomach that’s started to rest on them. his pecs you reach up to paw at when you realize they’ve started to create a crease between his chest and his stomach from below.

and at first, he doesn’t believe you when you tell him he looks even better like this. that if anything, you prefer him like this. doesn’t want to hear it when you try to coax him into repeating affirmations about himself, keeps his eyes off his reflection in the mirror.

but of course, he’s a weak man. you’re sat on your knees between his spread thighs, your ass practically begging to be ogled in those jeans.

and that’s what he focuses on at first. tries not to notice how you have to tilt your head slightly when you take him in your mouth, how you have to hold his tummy when you suck him off to keep it from inhabiting how far down you can get on his length. but as the heat in his body grows, as you get sloppier with spit dribbling down your chin, he has no choice but to look down at you.

and at that point, he can’t find it in him to care about the swell of his lower abdomen. he isn’t very worried about how much more space his thighs take up on the chair when you dip one of his balls into your mouth, licking and warming and soaking them in your feverish attempt to make him feel how sexy he is to you.

but by the time he’s coming ropes onto your pretty face, he finally gives in. finally obliges you fully and admits that maybe… maybe he was still sexy as fuck. maybe he did look better, healthier with the retirement weight on him.

won't you kiss my tears away, i look pretty only for you anyway.

tw ; dilf!dazai, daddy issues, fem!reader, older!dazai, a bit of a snippet from my dilf!dazai fic xoxo.

mmm . . . imagine sitting on dilf!dazai's lap and whining as you try to make him stop from kissing and sucking on your neck to leave lovebites, not putting any actual effort cause one -- you are tired from having a breakdown and second, you don't really want dazai to stop.

imagine dazai's tongue licking you neck before he begins to suck that spot, that one sensitive spot you have, it makes you whine as you complain to him to not leave marks but the arrogant man only chuckled, not stopping.

you dug your nails into his shoulders as you whined at him to stop, the sweet pain causing him to let out a small breathy moan mixed with a hiss. he didn't stop, he only bit you harder as a response.

in the middle of the night when everyone is sleeping, you are straddling dazai's lap, in his office as you whine and whimper in pleasure at his bites and kisses.

you gasped as you dug your nails a bit too hard into his shoulder, immediately you pulled back your hand and stuttered out a shakily apology. your emotions were still high from your recent breakdown and so, your eyes got teary again at the thought of how much it must've pained him.

dazai's expression grows panicked and worried as he cupped your cheek, tilting your head up to press a kiss on your wobbling chin and and at the tip of your nose.

"shh. shh, i am fine sweetheart. it was just a scratch. doesn't even hurt. you didn't hurt me, okay? don't cry. I'm fine." he cooed as he continued to press soft kisses on your cheeks, chin, tip and bridge of your nose, between your eyebrows and over your eyelids with each word he spoke.

you don't answer as you know if you try to speak, only more broken sobs will leave your lips so you sniffle, continuing to look and nod at dazai who is oh so gentle with you.

you lean up to press your lips against his for a shaky and messy kiss, pressing your lips against his even more to feel as much as you can of his lips moving against your's, his tongue teasing you, his sighs and breaths which hits your own lip or mouth.

you look down after the kiss, unbuttoning his black shirt and pushing it down his shoulder (the one you were digging your nails into) to see small beads of blood merged into his bandages.

"sorry osamu." you whisper shakily, leaning down to kiss his shoulder, ". . really, 'm sorry." you continue as you kiss his shoulder with each apology you mutter.

dazai hums, brushing your hair back with his fingers. he leans forwards to kiss the top of your head, muttering, "go ahead and cry all you want little girl."

Istg my percentage would've been solid 98% but maths had to ruin everything for me. I hate maths so much it's literally the most disgusting subject in existence.