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[bnanamlkluvr]

they're so hot jesus christ

tw// afab!anatomy, no pronouns used, slight smut

need a smut─or my case, write one─with ace and sabo like i need those two railing tf outta me right now. i need them fighting over me and competing against each other on who could make me break first HNNNNGGFFJFJDJFJ

i like to imagine ace and sabo on their knees pushing each other’s head’s away from your pussy cuz they both wanna be first to taste you and cream on their tongue

-

they both scramble to get their heads between your thighs─shoving one another and making each other trip─but the moment ace almost comes in contact with your folds, sabo’s palm aggressively pushes ace’s head away from you causing him to lose his balance and fall.

“oi! you asshole! what was that for?” ace seethes against his teeth as he glares at his brother.

sabo had a smug smirk on his face, snuggling his head against your plush thigh, “too slow as always bro.”

“hUh?! THE FUCK YOU JUST SAY?”

"oh god, not this ag─"

you are cut off by ace immediately grabbing sabo’s hair, making the blonde yelp in pain and thrash against his brother’s hold. sabo could feel his roots tear from his scalp at how barbarously ace grasped his hair. from the position on your shared bed, you blankly watched as your two partners wrestled and throw punches at each other. once the older male pulled and tossed his brother enough away from you, ace quickly settled himself between your thighs─locking his arms around your limbs. sabo groans in frustration as he tries to soothe the burning sensation of the agonizing pain inflicted on his head and body, he growls as he stomps towards the black-haired male while pushing up the sleeves of his button-down shirt to his elbows. you resist the urge to face-palm as ace boastfully laughs at his childish victory and the brothers’ stupid impulses to make everything a competition.

[bnanamlkluvr]

PITCHING TENTS ⛺️

Kid Pirates x AFAB Reader Modern AU Campground Series

🔞 MINORS DNI 🔞

It wasn't something you'd ever admit to those who knew you, they all made the reasonable assumption that you went camping to spend time alone. At first, that had been the case, but you'd quickly come to learn that other single men your age were doing the same thing, and you found yourself loving the thrill of a romp with a stranger.

Masterlist || AO3 || Part One

PART 2/6 - JUICY TREAT (Killer)

CW: sex with stranger, public sex, oral sex, food fetish, vaginal sex, degrading language, afab reader

WC: ~2k

Taglist: @nocturnalrorobin

The sun was well and truly set by the time your movie ended, and you had a hankering for a snack. It was a little warmer than you expected, so the popsicles you bought earlier sounded like a nice refreshing treat. You climbed out of your tent and were immediately hit with the dank smell of weed, your neighbours were having somewhat of a party. Maybe you could find a way to squirrel yourself in and get to know them, the night was still young. You caught the blond's eye as you left your tent and headed to the kitchen, still parading in your satin nightie. You went to the freezer and examined your small selection of individually wrapped popsicles, but on hearing footsteps behind you it was easy to select one. You turned back and saw the blond entering, brushing past you to open the fridge next to the one you had just been bending in front of, a coy smile on his face before he disappeared behind the fridge door. You unwrapped your popsicle and sat yourself on a counter. The large kitchen had four stacked ovens on one side, several fridges on the opposite, and a long line of counter space broken up by sinks along the surrounding walls. The center of the room had a long metal table running down it, with evenly distributed hobs for stove top cooking.

The blond pulled a handful of items from the fridge and placed them on the counter next to you, pausing for a moment to watch you run your tongue up the length of the phallic shaped ice lolly before sucking it into your mouth. He made a small amused huff before starting to cut up some fresh looking fruits.

“Strange snack for munchies,” you noted, letting your ice lolly go with a pop.

“You could smell that huh?” He replied. He had a deep, smooth baritone that sent a shiver through you, you'd love to hear how that voice sounded saying all manner of dirty things. “Sorry, I hope we didn't bother you. The boys like to party.”

“Didn't bother me at all,” you smiled, kicking your feet over the side of the counter, “you don't like to party as well then?”

“I prefer to keep my head about me,” he explained, “they've got plenty of snacks, the fruit is for me”

“Looks nice and fresh,” you noted, examining the selection.

“Want some?” He asked, pausing his knife.

“Sure, if you're offering,” you smiled sweetly. He held up a juicy looking cube of watermelon, expecting you to take it, but instead you leaned in close and ate it right off his hand, licking the juices from his fingers while you watched his pupils dilate till only a sliver of his icy blue irises were left. Hook, line and sinker, we got one boys.

Fruit and popsicle quickly forgotten, he was on you like a predator, standing between your legs and pulling your waist forward so your core was flush against him, forcing his tongue inside your mouth which you eagerly accepted. His kiss was rough and wet, all tongue and playful nips at your bottom lip, pulling greedy moans from you as you felt him harden against you. He grinded his tented jeans between your legs and you pulled hard on his hair, your legs winding around his waist to encourage him.

“You're such a fucking tease,” he growled as he pulled away from the kiss, pulling your hair as he made marks on your neck, “laying around in that skimpy little swimsuit, parading around in this sexy fucking slip with those delicious thighs out”

“You like what you see, big boy?” You purred, “why don't you get a taste?”

He bit down on your shoulder, making you groan, before pulling away and kneeling eagerly between your legs. You spread them invitingly, pulling your already soaked panties aside and using two fingers to spread your folds open for him.

“Eager little slut,” he mumbled against your bare thigh as he nipped at it, “came in here looking for a juicy treat and I certainly found it”

You pushed aside his bangs so you could see his hungry eyes as he ran his tongue up your core, grunting into you as he sucked on your clit and bullied his tongue inside you. The thick wet muscle felt heavenly on and in you as he alternated, before he settled on working at your clit and pumping you with two long fingers. You leaned back against the counter with your other hand, awkwardly still holding the popsicle before deciding to suck on it while he watched you.

“Give me that,” he growled, standing back up. He took a long suck from the popsicle before giving you a devious look. “Can I fuck you with it?”

You took advantage of your flexibility, showing off as you put your feet up on the counter, planting them flat either side of you, leaning back now that you had two free hands to lean on. “Go ahead blondie”

He gave you a smug grin as he brought the popsicle down to your core, and you winced slightly at the sudden cold as he ran it over your clit before sliding it easily inside you. The slightly grooved edges and the foreign temperature had you moaning immediately, not to mention the fact that it felt downright filthy to let a stranger fuck you with food. The grooved edges were quickly melted away and smoothed by your hot centre, and the man knelt again to lap at the sticky juices that were dripping from you until the popsicle was no longer big enough to satisfy. He pulled it out and sucked the juices from it, a mixture of the melted treat and your slick, before biting away what was left and throwing the stick in a nearby sink.

“You're one nasty bitch you know that?” He grinned as he stood in front of you, undoing his belt and pants. You stayed in your spread position, watching him hungrily, your pussy pink from the cold as you reached down to toy with it.

“I'm not the one who suggested it,” you replied smugly, fingering yourself as he pulled his pants down enough to free his cock. He pumped himself a few times, he was long and thick, a soft bed of blonde pubes at the base, his tip pink and dripping with precum. He pulled a condom from his jeans pocket and slid it on and you eagerly removed your fingers as he lined himself up.

“Pretty little thing though,” he cooed, lifting your chin and reconnecting his mouth with yours as he bullied the head of his cock inside you, the rest of him sliding in easily with how well lubricated you were. He swallowed your moans as he let you stretch around him, before pulling away with one last tug to your bottom lip. He pulled your legs up and rested your knees on his shoulders, folding you in half as he began to thrust deep and fast into you. Your head lolled back as you moaned, giving in and letting your back lay flat against the counter, your hair splayed out around you. He pushed your nightie up till your breasts were exposed, groping at them with one hand while his other held your hips tight so he could piston into you.

“Fuck, so tight,” he growled.

“So big,” you replied between moans.

“You take me so well though,” he pinched your nipple before moving his hand down to your clit, rubbing it with his thumb, “so fucking tight and wet for me, good girl”

You preened at his praises, your back arching from pleasure as you tried to keep yourself from smashing against the wall with every hard thrust. Seeing your struggle he pulled out, and you barely had time to whine at the emptiness before he had flipped you over, your feet on the floor and your torso bent over the counter as he plunged back inside you. He held your hips tight as he resumed his brutal pace, grunting behind you as his fingers sunk into your skin.

“Oh fuck, just like that,” you mewled, “just like that baby, I'm gonna cum real soon”

“Yessss, fuck,” he groaned, “cum for me beautiful, then I'm gonna paint that pretty ass of yours”

You reached back and grabbed his forearm for support as your orgasm tore through you, your legs shaking as you let out a long, satisfied groan. He worked you through it as long as he could before he had to pull out, tearing off the condom and shooting stripes of cum over your lower back and the curve of your ass. He kept one hand on your hip, his heavy length resting against your ass as he tried to catch his breath.

“Fuck, and here I thought this camping trip was going to be boring,” he half laughed as he stepped away, pulling paper towels from the communal roll on the counter and cleaning his cum off you. He dampened another and wiped it between your legs and down your inner thighs, cleaning away the sticky remnants of the popsicle. You stood back up and righted your clothing, sticking your head under a sink faucet to get a drink and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. He'd already tucked himself away and gone back to his fruit by the time you turned back to him, and you sat yourself back up on the counter next to him, a satisfied smile on both of your faces. He handed you a slice of watermelon and you happily chomped away at it while he finished cutting up fruit, placing the snacks on a plate and cleaning away his mess.

“I'm Killer, by the way,” he told you as he dried his hands with a teatowel.

“[Y/N],” you smiled as you finished the watermelon and hopped down, throwing away the rind and washing your hands.

“What's a pretty thing like you doing camping on your own?” He asked curiously.

“Oh you know,” you replied coyly, “just unwinding”

He huffed in reply as he started to follow you out the kitchen door with his plate in hand. “Did you want to join us, by the way?” He asked as you approached the juncture of your two areas.

“Nah, I spent all morning driving,” you explained. As much as you'd love to smoke some weed and fool around some more, this was already more than you were expecting from today, and you could really use some sleep. “Another time though, definitely”

“Alright then, I'll hold you to that,” he smiled. You bid him goodnight and he returned to his friends, who were none the wiser as to what had happened in the kitchen given the volume of their talking and music. You used some wet wipes you kept handy in your tent, usually for use after pleasuring yourself, to clean up a little more thoroughly and changed into a clean set of panties before heading to bed. Before laying down to sleep you sent one more message your bestie.

You: blondie put out. So big too! 🤤 Bestie: damn you work quick, but then who can resist that banging bod of yours? You: lol thanks girlie 😘 ttyl, im off to sleep, nite! Bestie: night! Stay safe, use protection!

[NEXT PART]

[bnanamlkluvr]

its nice and warm in there so long as they hold on tight

[bnanamlkluvr]

love bite <3

[bnanamlkluvr]

"in every life"

curse reincarnation, fluff

ryomen sukuna x reader

Synopsis: you, a former sorcerer and sukuna's wife, are killed in the heian era. sukuna does not believe in a life without you, so he takes it upon himself to bring you back a thousand years later

to sum it up: you are sukuna's life, and no matter how long he has to wait, he will bring you back to him by any means necessary

WC: 3,621

Warning(s): angst in the beginning, reader death (but you're revived), brief icky descriptions of a vessel's possession

-> ask | sukuna fic list

Sukuna remembers the exact moment you left him, soul fluttering almost gracefully from your eyes as your body fell limply into his four arms.

The moment replays in his mind as though it had only happened yesterday, or perhaps as recently as a few hours prior. Time has never been something the king of curses worried himself over, for his strength and existence exceeded such mortal constructs, but when his thoughts wander to you as frequently as air fills and deflates from his lungs, the very concept grows skewed and suddenly, time is a matter of great importance to him.

A king is nothing without his queen beside him, his rock, his partner, and that is what you are. That is what you were, but Sukuna refuses to address you in any form of past tense because your temporary withdrawal from the planet and from his side would never alter the fact that you are his, that you have been his, and that you will be his until the end of time. 

Sukuna has never been one for romantics, for connections that tie his free spirit down from the unfettered, terrifying rule that he leads, but when you entered his life, his opinions shifted and his ambitions changed, making room for you at his side upon his throne. 

The two of you had been married for years before you left him. Sukuna had never bothered to count, but now he finds himself mulling over the years’ contents in search of a piece of your memory that can stay with him until the time comes for you to return to his hand. 

When you were alive, Sukuna never fathomed you leaving his side. He almost feels he should punish you for so abruptly taking an absence from him without permission, castigating your spirit until he feels that the space you once occupied close to him emanates remnants of an apology, of guilt, of a promise to never do such a foolish thing ever again. 

When you were alive, you were a sight to behold, a perfect fit for the title of his wife. You were deserving of each and every privilege he bestowed upon you; of holding his face in your small, dainty hands, of pressing your lips to the textured plate of his face, of throwing your legs over his thighs as you settle onto his lap with a large, burly arm coming around you and securing you there for all of his servants and former concubines to see how high you sit amongst him and how low they remain beneath the two of you. 

You always said what you were thinking. While he ensured that everyone within and outside of his temple feared him, you were always unaffected by his intimidating presence. He remembers one instance in which you were lying beneath him, a mess of silk fabrics swarming your bare figure over your reserved place in his bed with your hair splayed out messily over the pillows and your eyes weighted with a foolish look of what he could only describe as enchantment and tender allegiance.

He feels the ghost of your fingers trace his jaw as he looks down at you quietly, dwarfing you in his mass. A smile touches your soft lips with a rosy hue swirling over your (s/c) skin. 

“Your eyes are quite beautiful.”

Your voice is a whisper of past enamorations through Sukuna’s ear as his brows arch in reminiscence. He remembers how he glared at you in confusion, face hard though he always allowed you to continue admiring him, to continue touching him without consequence. His eyes, which mirror the color of fresh, crimson blood as he has watched it gurgle from the mouths and limbs of his victims, staining the streets, his hands, and his monstrous legacy, are windows you believe to be… beautiful.

Your sentiments never failed to befuddle him. He never did understand why you associated such a ferocious beast with beliefs so light and pure. He is not beautiful, he had thought. He never desired to be beautiful. He is simply Ryoman Sukuna, enough of himself to be categorized in unique isolation, separate from your labels of aesthetic charm and peace. 

You’re silly. Silly with love and submission, he thinks, but he has never denied you of these admirations though he fails to agree. 

Besides, you are his wife. He would have allowed you to worship him in any way you pleased if you asked, and in truth, you hardly did ask. You knew what you were to Sukuna, how you and only you remained the only soft spot that the salmon haired demon withheld in his breast. You were beyond requesting approval to love him in the ways you saw fit, and Sukuna was pleased because you knew, in all spaces, that you were his and he was yours. 

Among all the trophies of battles won, of cities conquered, of titles obtained, you are Sukuna’s greatest prize. 

His love for you was always silent, long glances and grips of the waist, orders to slaughter on your behalf and the pat of his hand over his beefy thigh to beckon you over. His love was an unrestrained space for you to express your desires, to demand his attention, and his compliance with a veil of frustration poorly masking his easy willingness to give you anything you pleased. His love was long, sleepless nights, the marking of his territory by means of stinging bites and purple bruises over your smooth skin that no living being in his wake could mistake for anything but a reminder of your connection to him. 

His love was you incarnate, just a woman before hell’s greatest crown, but his love no less. His wife. His queen. His eternity.

Sukuna does not know why he mourned you when you died. He found himself reacting impulsively, in a short-lived panic when your blood spilled over his skin and your eyes lost the light that he’d been following through the tunnel of his rein for years. 

He knows death is a taboo concern only for mortals to fret over, but when you die, he feels as though he has died himself. Your life flashes before his eyes, your time with him, and this strange ache swarms his body and manifests as a ball in his throat as his ruby hues melt over you in alarm. 

He struggles to accept your parting. He’s viciously angry, a horrible wreck that his servants fear stepping too close into proximity as the time passes and your vacancy weighs itself over his temple and his body like a mountain. He had believed your death to be painful, but the period that follows, the period of waiting stings him like no pain he has endured before. 

A king needs his queen, and without you, no matter for how long, he feels empty. He rampages his heartache away, but it no longer holds the satisfaction it did when you were with him, watching from the sidelines and cheering him on. His estate feels colder somehow, the dent you’ve left in his bed losing its shape and the memory of you fading from others’ minds, but not from his. Never from his. 

Sukuna knows that he will see you again. In any era, no matter how much farther into the future, he will find you once more, bring you back to his embrace, and dust off the crown that he has reserved for your pretty head alone. 

He holds onto a piece of you, storing it safely, awaiting the time to revive you even within his own cursed slumber after having sealed himself for a millenia, severing parts of him and scattering it over the country.

You, however, remain stowed safely in one place. A place he will remember to return to when he reawakens in rebirthed flesh.

Now, a millenia following your untimely death, Sukuna stares emptily at the woman before him, curling and tossing around with bound wrists and ankles at his feet.

She’s crying, screams of horror rising into the starry sky as Sukuna’s eyes glint menacingly beneath the moonlight. He watches her carefully, curling his lips. He looks at this pest, this fragile, forgettable mortal woman and sees everything that you are not. For a moment, he hesitates, his fingers clutching over the ancient parchment wrapped object he holds protectively within his grasp at his side. 

His brows draw together in frustration induced by your vessel. He knows he picked wisely, however, he can not deny the hesitation that captures his mind when he contemplates whether this vessel will do your worth justice. Whether it will truly bring you back the way he plans for you to be. 

He holds up the object in his hand, your energy emitting from behind the paper and through his veins, easing into his blackened soul. You are practically calling to him, holding his hand, murmuring into his ear that it will be okay. 

Sukuna is reminded then and there solely by the spirit of you that nothing in this world could even begin to dwindle the brilliance in which you shine, that even within the body of a bird or a squirrel, your essence would burst through. You will reincarnate wholly as how you left him, and as nothing less. 

With a heavy exhale through his nose, Sukuna unravels the object, tossing the parchment to the ground, and takes a step forward to approach the young woman squirming in the grass before him. He walks over her, feet planted on either side of her figure, and bends down. Her eyes go white with terror as snot and tears dribbles over her nose and down her cheek. Sukuna looks into her coldly, grasping a hand over her face and digging his black nails into her jaw. 

She shudders an agonizing, shrill screech that is soon muffled by the manner in which Sukuna squeezes her cheeks inward and forcefully pries her mouth open. 

With a steely, disconnected glare, Sukuna takes the object imbued with your cursed energy, your ring finger. He pulls your wedding band from the decrepit digit and pushes it to the woman’s lips. Her eyes go wide as she chokes over her jaw’s lack of mobility, and the taste of something foreign and timeworn on her tongue. Her stuttered, whimpering gasps release and she gargles once Sukuna pushes the object down her throat. He slaps his hand back over her mouth as it slides down her throat and she twitches uncontrollably, eyes cracking with red veins. 

The king of curses holds her still as her body flops wildly, her chest lurching forward and limbs flying about. Her body can not handle the intrusion of a thousand year old sorcerer’s influence, so it fails. Her eyes roll into her skull and her fingers twitch once her limbs have stilled in the grass. A symphony of crickets chirping lifts into Sukuna’s ears as the woman beneath him goes completely silent, dead, still.

He waits. After a millennia of existence confined to cursed flesh, after years of the cold left in your wake nipped at his skin, after battling bodies for dominance over a vessel, he waits just a few seconds more for you.

After it seems as though he has lost you for a second time, the body’s eyes flicker. Sukuna stills above you, pupils shrunken in anticipation.

Movement shifts beneath him. A chest rises, and breathing begins steadily through it. The color of this vessel’s skin shifts, transitioning slowly, milking into the hue of gentle (s/c) that Sukuna once caressed with his rough fingers. Color flushes through pale cheeks, and irises of (e/c) roll back from the skull and stare widely ahead, directly into Sukuna’s gaze. Finally, your voice comes, a gentle hum of confusion and discomfort as you regain your lost senses.

Sukuna’s heart skips as the familiar warmth of your body emanates from beneath him again, and his hand is slowly sliding from your parted lips. He feels as though he’s just run a marathon despite his inability to wind himself. He breathes out heavily, gradually, and silence envelopes the two of you in the darkness of the late night. 

While Sukuna had planned this from the very moment you went dead in his hands, he feels somehow starstruck by you. You look as beautiful as you were centuries in the past, skin smooth, brows curled, lips soft as though you had not been gone from his life for more than a brief second. You have returned to him as he had thoughtfully calculated, and yet, he can not fathom the fact that you are here at long last, mere centimeters away, manifested into truth by his graze of your chin. 

The muscles in your brows pull together in disbelief, glimmering eyes shining over as you take in the sight before you. The last thing you felt was a blade slicing into your heart and ripping down through your body, the last vision of Sukuna racing to throw you into him as your opponent met his end with the selective mutilation of his internal organs at your husband’s hard, feral, red glance.

You blink hurriedly, shooting a hand out to your husband’s bicep. “...Ryo?” you whisper in a trembling voice, knowing him by gaze and presence and touch alone. 

The said demon’s brows angle and his body lurches forward with a sharp exhale upon hearing your voice utter his name outside of the confines of his mind’s nostalgia and imagination. He is overcome by the return of you to him, eyes fiery with longing for his once lost love and shoulders aching as the weight that had been crushing down finally releases. The sensation of your fingers curling over his arm sends chills down his spine, for time has never altered Sukuna’s course of existence, but time tells in the way he physically shivers when your loving contact revives on his skin after having been stripped of him for what feels like eternity.

Tears pool in your eyes and your shaky hands raise to smooth over his face, exploring his marked skin and familiarizing yourself with the structure of the being you fell in love with many lifetimes ago. Sukuna’s brow flinches as you feel over his face, and his own palm cradles over your cheek, dwarfing your head in the fashion it always used to as the back of his fingers skim over your heated flesh. 

“Ryomen,” you say his name again, voice crumbling and your shoulders jerking in awe.

He trips down into you, hands clutching over your head as you guide his face down with his hasty movements. Your name tumbles hoarsely from his rumbling voice, against your lips, and slotting into your mind in a haze as his lips meet yours urgently. 

You cry gently into him, lips parting and pushing back in as he kisses you fervently, savoring you, burrowing you into his body’s memory to recover the time he has spent deprived of you. Your hands fly over his neck, down his back, detailing the ridges and the muscles rippling beneath the fabric of his shirt that you know so well. He presses himself down into you, pulling you in closer by your head, flushing your chests together to intertwine your souls once more. Heady grunts and growls heave into your mouth between frenzied, stunned, satisfied kisses, and each time a tear of yours catches into the liplock, Sukuna is pulling it into his lips, saltiness swirling through the sweet release of his misery. 

He’s missed you. So very much, he’s missed you. He doesn’t know how he has managed to go so long without you now that you are here again, now that he is holding you again, kissing you again. 

“My king,” you whimper when you get a chance to break away, foreheads bumping as Sukuna shushes you gently.

“Do not fret, peach,” he soothes you, lips brushing yours as his now loving gaze spills into your own. “You are alright.”

Despite Sukuna’s ruthlessness and his wild murderous expeditions, as well as his blood-curdling tone that further accentuates the weight of his threats when thrown into the direction of others, Sukuna melts into calmness for you, his low voice mellow and meditative, enraptured in the peace that you bring him. You know all sides of your dear husband, and yet this is the rawest side of him that you know, that he treats you with. 

“What happened?” you whisper as his hands run over you, catching your tears and tracing the curves of your flesh. “Where are we?”

“In the garden,” he answers you easily, kissing the corner of your mouth gently. 

“At… at home?” 

He hums in affirmation, leaning back just a bit to stare into you. The pairs of your eyes shine as they absorb the image of one another, still and sincere. Grass tickles your ears and your arms, and you look down, realizing that you are lying in a patch of greenery. You slowly tilt your head to the side, and Sukuna keeps his gaze glued to you like you will disappear before him. Your eyes capture the stems of daffodils and lavender that sprout around your head, pointing into the night sky and swaying gently in the warm breeze. You recognize the plants as the ones you had always taken to tending by the creek behind Sukuna’s temple, which he had the servants fashion as a suitable garden for you to indulge in. 

You do not recall being here last. You recall dying. You recall your world going dark.

You turn back to meet his heavy eyes. “What did you do?”

He is silent for a moment, taking his time to study you before answering as though the question is the simplest one he has ever been asked. “I have brought my queen back to me. As I have always sworn to do if we were ever separated.”

“...How long have we been separated?”

“It does not matter.”

“How long was I away from you, Ryo? How long did I leave you for?”

“It does not matter,” he reiterates gently yet ever so firmly. “Do not think of it.”

“Please-” you frown, eyes shining over again. “I hadn’t- I didn’t mean to leave you. I don’t know how I even let it happen… I can’t imagine what that must have gone through…”

Ryomen catches the guilt in your gorgeous eyes and he is quick to gather you up in his arms. He pulls you up slowly, keeping your eyes locked as you allow him to lift you from the ground with his arms wound tightly over your waist. Your hands go to Sukuna’s shoulders as he kneels over you, keeping you steady and upright, face to face, nose to nose, eye to eye. 

“I refuse to allow the first thing you do in reincarnated life to be reminding me of what life was like without you,,” he says. “I do not wish to revisit it. It does not matter,” he repeats for a third time. 

You tilt your head with the tug of your lips downward sadly, threading your hands through his pink locks and holding onto the nape of his neck. The moonlight milks over you regally, as though the stars have aligned for this very moment, to illuminate you both in the universe’s joyous eye. You swallow hard. “Am I a curse?”

“You are my wife. I will not tolerate you labeling yourself as anything different..”

You inhale deeply, bringing your forehead back to him and closing your eyes. His arms pull you in tight, rhythmic breaths easing you into this reality complacent, affectionately, lovingly. 

“I’m sorry I left you, my love,” you murmur.

Now that he’s heard you apologize, seen your remorse sparked by something out of your control, he doesn’t fare well with it. 

You are not a plague to him, a burden, and telling him that you are sorry in his mind now insinuates such. Even after leaving him, after stealing away his warmth, after haunting his slumber and his consciousness for eons, he does not fault you. He would never fault the woman he chose to keep by his side in wellness and in death. 

He does not accept your apology. You have done nothing but love him, yet Sukuna is the one who should have protected you. 

He runs a hand over the back of your head, down your hair, and exudes his message of impenetrable love to you through his embrace and sweltering red eyes. “All I ask of you is that you stay. In this era and the next. Stay by my side as you are meant to be.”

You nod eagerly against him. “I will,” you whisper. “I will, I promise.”

Sukuna reaches down at his side for the ring he had set down. With one hand to your back, he pulls your wedding band forward and presents it to your twinkling eye. You gasp. 

“You still have it,” you sigh.

“In what world would I not?” 

You bring your hand down, spreading your fingers, and you watch as the kind of curses slips the rusted treasure over your finger, fitting it perfectly into place with the renewal of your marriage and the reunion of your hearts.

You admire the way it looks upon your hand happily, and Sukuna drags you back into his lips, pecking you tenderly before moving back in with his hands firm to you. You shift further up so that his arms can completely take you in, heads bumping as your lips swim together in commemoration of a rebirth into a new life.

[bnanamlkluvr]

Alright y’all, I already talked about Tengen’s big dick, so I feel it’s only fair to talk about Kyojuro’s big breeder balls.

They’re smooth, the shade a bit darker than his skin tone and they’re heavy. The weight harsh when they hit your chin as you suck him off. They get taught and throb as he cums.

He can’t help himself though, it’s just in the nature of Rengokus to breed. To watch the creamy milkiness of their seed drip out of your spent cunt. To fuck it back inside and fill you up all over again.

It’s your fault, really. You know how Kyojuro is about you. He’s insatiable, can never have enough and you enable him. You tell him how good it feels, how much you need it, and he can never say no to you.

So he ravishes you, splits you open on his glistening cock, drenched in your wetness as his heavy balls smack against your ass. You’re creaming around his dick, he already pulled 3 orgasms out of you and filled you up twice, but he has to do it again. It’s a must!

It’s overwhelming, the pulsing head twitching against your cervix as he pumps you full of him. It’s always so much that it leaves your belly bulging, your plump tummy filling up. It has you feeling warm and fuzzy, your cunt clenching around him to keep him from moving.

He’s always so sweet after, kissing along your body to distract you from his balls filling up again, ready to spill inside you.

It’s your fault, really.

[bnanamlkluvr]

angel. sanemi.

⨳ cw: fem!reader, lowercase intended, black coded, breeding kink, reader gets folded like a pretzel, sanemi’s kind of an asshole?, overstim, mild degrading, pregnancy talk, drabble.

it’s so indecent the position he has you in currently. tummy folded, knees by your shoulders with his hot, clammy hands holding them down with all his strength. driving his cock deep into your pretty pussy, hips clashing hard, so hard you swear his skin could become one with your own. it’s hot. the room itself. your body is sweltering beneath him, not a window open, no air on. just on your back getting fucked into a squeaky mattress in your boyfriend’s dark apartment.

Keep reading

[bnanamlkluvr]

oh god oh fuck the ovulation horny is back with a vengeance y’all —

MDNI

Shinjuro’s fingers curl around the neckline of your dress and yank it down, exposing your breasts.

“Not bad.” He clicks his tongue. He palms one in his hand, rolling it, pinching it between rough yet warm fingers, as though testing it. The faint moans trembling in your throat under your future-in-law’s inspections choke off with a yelp as Shinjuro gives one tit a firm slap.

He smirks. “They’ll be better once you’re good and fat with a kid. What, with your milk ‘n all.” He closes his eyes and shudders. “So fuckin’ sweet. I couldn’t get enough of it with Rukka.”

Shinjuro jerks his head at Kyojuro where he settles into the great leather armchair by the mantle. “He’ll like it, too. Little degenerate, just like his old man.”

—

“That’s my rule from now on. You fuck her in my house, then it’s free use.”

[bnanamlkluvr]

Lessons of Lust | Sanemi Shinazugawa and Kyojuro Rengoku x fem!reader

Warnings: oral sex fem!receiving, nipple play, blow job, raw sex, virgin sex, creampie, breeding kink, threesome, cum in the mouth, swallow the cum, hair pulling, brain rot Word count: 1.4k a/n: hey now... Kyojuro and Sanemi brain rot go brrr

“C’mon, baby,” Sanemi coos behind you, his large hands gripping your hips. “You wanna be a good girl for us, right?” Your head falls against the white-haired male’s chest as your breathing falters. A smutty slurping noise echoes around the room, the vibrations of the male underneath you, making it hard to stay upright. 

The flame hashira pops off your clit with a loud smack of his lips. “Keep ‘er quiet Shinazugawa,” He huffs, the grin on his mouth eliciting a growing pressure in your core. Sanemi pulls you flush against him, nipping at the junction of your shoulder and neck. A whimpering mewl slides from your throat as Kyojuro uses the flat of his tongue to swipe the length of your folds. You shudder, the feeling of two men who were your superiors doing such filthy things to you driving you to the very edge. 

It started off as you simply blurting out that you had never been with someone to the flame hashira. He was surprised, to say the least, but he promised he’d train you in the ways of being with someone. That’s when the wind pillar showed up with the quest of sparring with Kyojuro, but he was busy eating out your wet cunt. 

Sanemi sat and gaped, his lilac gaze trying to take in everything at once. How you reached out your fingers for him upon his arrival. The needy look in your eyes as you squirmed atop Kyojuro’s face. He couldn’t help but touch your body, the curve of your breasts, the skin of your stomach, the plush span of your thighs, and your neck. 

You made it obvious how much you enjoyed the rough side of Kyojuro paired with the playful one of Sanemi. You were a wicked thing indeed, especially when your fingertips graze the bulge in the wind hashira’s pants, a fucked out grin tugging on your lips. 

Sanemi blows out a laugh, raising a brow as you continue with your ministrations, panting and moaning while palming at his breeches. “You’re practically beggin’ for more,” He laughs, running his rough fingers down your arm. 

Kyojuro grunts against your thigh, his heated gaze resting on you. “M’thinking we move on to the next lesson.” His teeth sink into the soft skin of your thigh, and your eyes widen before you let out a panted yelp. Sanemi stands up, leaving your back cold and weak. You whine, searching for him only to find the wind hashira dropping his breeches to reveal a stiff pale cock. Your chest lurches at the sight of him, his muscular chest seemingly all pointing to this very spot on his body. There’s a long jagged scar that dips below his pelvis, deliciously curving downward. 

The wind pillar had scars covering his skin, and most likely, the internal ones were deeper than the visible ones. When you first met him, it was an intimidating part of his personality – but now you knew they were tangible proof of just how hard he fought to protect the innocent. “Stop gawking,” Sanemi hisses, stepping toward you with his length firmly in his grasp. “Gods, you’re such a filthy thing,” He brushes the head of his cock against your lips, a gooey liquid connecting your bottom lip to his tip when he pulls back. A twisted smirk plays with his mouth as your tongue darts out to taste the substance he left behind. It’s salty with a hint of sweetness – just like the hashira himself. 

Kyojuro shifts from underneath you, his large hands spreading your thighs even wider. You wince, squeezing your eyes shut from the sudden pressure shooting up your joints. He’s situated the apex of your thighs over the firm place in his pants. The area around the flame pillar’s mouth is red from the ample time spent between your thighs, but a lustful glint in his eyes tells you he’s not done with you just yet. “Since you did such a good job on your first lesson, how about two for one?” Kyojuro nods to Sanemi who grabs onto your chin, pushing his cock against your lips once more. “This is goin’ to hurt before it feels good darlin’, but I know that’s just the way you like it.” The flame hashira unbuckles his belt, sliding it out with tenaciously. Your lips part enough for Sanemi to push into your mouth. He was long, but the sheer girth of the wind hashira is baffling. It’s a miracle he even fits in your mouth as your eyes flutter shut, tears stinging your eyes at the strain. 

Sanemi thrusts against your tongue, grunting in pleasure. “F’ck, so good darlin’” He pants, grabbing the back of your head to sloppily fuck your face. You whimper against his length, hungry for something more. Somehow you still felt empty, but – almost as if hearing your thoughts – Kyojuro lines himself up at your entrance. Then, with a hum of delight, he slips in. The wind hashira has a fistful of your hair as you groan against his cock. “Mmm, ya’like the way he’s filling you up?” Your eyes open, despite the zaps of pain shooting through your system. You manage to nod, spit dripping down your throat. A dark expression coats Sanemi’s lilac eyes, his grip tightening as he shoves his cock so deep into your throat that it hits the back. You choke, a garble of moans and attempted coughs filling the air. The wind hashira grunts, his eyes squeezing shut. “M’goin’ to cum in that pretty mouth of yours,”

Meanwhile, Kyojuro hits the wall of your maidenhood, a sharp pain jolting through you. Your eyes roll back in your head as he squeezes your hips. “Be brave, sweetheart, it’ll all feel better soon enough,” Then he thrusts past it, breaking the seal of virginity. You shudder and twitch as the excruciating pain slowly folds into a full pleasure. “That’s it, that’s my girl,”

Your mouth tightens around Sanemi’s cock, causing him to pant wildly. “M’so close, fuck, swallow it, take it all,” You brace yourself on Sanemi’s hips, content with how his cum fills your mouth. It takes multiple gulps to get it all down, but you smack your lips with a dazed expression when you’re done regardless. 

If Sanemi weren’t afraid of fucking you too much for the first time, he would’ve bent you over after Kyojuro had his fill. If you looked at him like that again, especially after swallowing his cum, the hashira was sure to fill all of you up with his seed. 

Kyojuro’s cock rocks into you, the slapping of your thighs on his becoming your favorite sound in the world as your moans crack into whimpers. “Yeah, take it all, fuck,” Kyojuro furrows his brows, his nails digging into your hips. “Take it all, gonna fill you up,” He huffs, his thumbs rubbing your stomach. You pant, placing your palms against the soft muscle of Kyojuro’s upper chest. 

Sanemi’s hands reach for your exposed nipples, pinching them between his fingers. “Not so fast,” He grins, twisting them. You throw your head back, the void of your pleasure filling exceptionally fast. “Leave some room for me, Kyojuro,” He starts “Whad’ya say we both fill ‘er up and see who gets her pregnant first?” Sanemi’s other hand slips down your side, spanning over your stomach. 

“Fine by me. That’s okay with you too isn’t it?” His eyes meet yours, and you limply nod, pressing your hands onto both Sanemi’s and Kyojuro’s. “Good,” Kyojuro huffs, his thrusts growing sloppy, the slick sound only edging him closer to his release. The coil wound tightly in your stomach cracks, a screaming moan falling from your lips as you cum hard. Your pussy clenches Kyojuro’s cock as you rock against your climax. It’s a wonderfully fuzzy feeling that spins you into a frenzy as your walls flutter around him. “Fuck you feel amazing. You did amazing,” The wind hashira keeps you still as Kyojuro fucks into you, the shivering pressure of overstimulation nearly sending you over the edge again. “M’ready, shit,” Your head falls as the flame hashira spills into you, a warm fullness coating your insides. 

Sanemi kisses your temple, a soft, warm feeling. Kyojuro loosens his grip on your hips, the indent of his nails leaving crescent shapes. “So did I pass?” Your voice is hoarse when you speak, but it gathers the attention of both males. Kyojuro glances at Sanemi, then shakes his head. Your brows furrow.

“Not…yet,” Sanemi leans onto your shoulder, his cheeks flushing pink. 

Kyojuro chuckles, sitting up to kiss the valley between your breasts. “We’ll just keep going at it until one of us gets you pregnant. Right, Shinazugawa?”

“Right.”

Well fuck.

[bnanamlkluvr]

// taking care of your dogboy (hsr edition!) //

i. note — sry i havent been posting yall i got a job + ive been working on three cosplays at the same time bc my local con is coming up lmao (´ཀ`」 ∠) however the brainrot never stops. it only takes a break. a little break of approximatively. a month. ish. ......... anyways dog hybrid hsr boys brainrot !!! lmk if we want more of this with more boys •ᴗ• comments and asks are appreciated hehe ii. includes — blade, gepard, boothill and gn!reader iii. cw — slice of life stuff turning into smut, possessive behaviour, overstim, slight dom/sub dynamics, real messy stuff, manhandling. use of the word "hole" to keep reader gender neutral iv. wc — 1,9k

blade is a mutt riddled in scars and dirty bandages from living on the streets and fighting to survive.

you think he might be some german shepherd mix, but he refuses to let you swab his teeth n gums for a dna test (last time you tried you narrowly avoided a punch to the face. he apologized in his own way afterwards), so whenever people ask, just say he’s a rescue to avoid revealing that you actually just… don’t really know what breed he is. they usually drop the subject and simply go on their merry way, seeing as he wasn’t the type of pup to appreciate affection from strangers anyways– it’s rare for you to leave the house in the first place, though.

you had to switch to a remote job because blade is just so persistent when it comes to you. although possessive is a much better descriptor, because he doesn’t let anyone near you. whenever you leave to get groceries he ends up practically breathing down your neck from how close he gets— acting as if he were your literal shadow— glaring at everyone that gets too close to you. you’ve made it a habit to always go to self-checkout lane so blade doesn’t scare off the cashiers.

the second you get home he’s all over you, determined to rid you of that outside stench and replace it with his own. you started packing your grocery bags in a way that nothing will break if (read: when) you suddenly drop them on the floor, all because you’re so familiar with blade’s impatience.

he holds you still by engulfing your body with his, knees caging your hips as he grinds into you, shallow and deep. blade’s growls and huffs fill your ears just as much as his cock fills your hole, his knot kissing your tightness from the outside.

“do you like this? like how i have to fuck you every time you decide to go outside again when you could stay here,” with me blade omits, his tail swishing back and forth on the bedsheets behind him, the sound just barely grounding you to reality.

your grocery bags were long forgotten on the foor (as they usually are), your mind too foggy to function. clawing at the sheets, you try to crawl away from blade’s grip— to no avail.

he tuts, craning his head to bite down onto the skin where your shoulder meets your neck. “i might just need to mark you for extra precaution,” he bucks into you, knocking the air out of your lungs. you hear squelching, the constant plap! plap! plap! from his thighs smacking against your ass and whine, broken babbles leaving your kiss-bruised lips.

“b-blade, y’can’t- ah,” he shushes you by plugging you full of his lengthy cock, his knot almost threatening to press inside of you. you whimper, feeling lightheaded from a mix of both nervousness and arousal.

he soothes the hickey he left on your neck, licking it languidly as he stills to bask into the way your hole throbs around him. warm and tight and oh so tempting.

“shit, wanna fill you. wanna… have everyone know they can’t have you. you’re mine, mine to love ‘n mine to fuck,” you’re not lucid enough to process his thinly veiled confession, too busy writhing your ass back against him in a feeble attempt to get him to continue moving.

you might want to invest into some good concealer or into those skin coloured tattoo patches to cover the bruises and bite marks blade’ll leave on you if you want to continue being a functioning member of society. you can’t really be walking around in public as if a dog had just mauled you right before you left the house, can you?

gepard is a golden retriever because of COURSE he is. similarly to blade, he likes to invade your personal space a lot— not because he’s possessive, but because he’s extremely protective of you.

the random bruises you used to randomly notice on your body faded as soon as he came into your life. gepard’s soft, lingering touches healed them; gently placing a hand on your hip before you bump into sharp furniture so it doesn’t hit you, redirecting your head to his shoulder as you nod-off in the train before you bang your head, and so on.

it’s a full-time job and he’s working 24/7, always on the lookout for anything that could possibly hurt you as you saunter off… wherever, without a care in the world— because he took care of everything!

he would clean the apartment for you, cook (though you usually insist you do the cooking; a human doesn’t have the same taste in food as a hybrid), and even act as your own personal alarm clock. gone were the days of being woken up by loud, blaring beeping. gepard woke you up with forehead kisses instead, making your mornings much more pleasant.

but poor geppie, he’s always taking care of you; so take care of him, won’t you?

every so often you’ll sit in his lap to help him get rid of whatever stress he held in his body. your hands will knead at the muscles in his broad shoulders, all while you simultaneously kiss away the strain in his face. his brows are furrowed as you do your best to soothe his muscles; you never forget to smooch his cheek, nose and the corner of his lips.

though the attention and gentle acts of affection always ends with your hands lower than they should be.

“ah ah, no touching, remember?” you murmur in his ear playfully. you had been at it for what felt like hours; gepard’s cock and abdomen was smeared with the remnants of his cum, skin tacky from his previous loads. your hand shows no sign of stopping, not even when he begged oh so sweetly.

“c-come onn. just… jus’ wanna kiss…” and who were you to deny your sweet boy? your lips find his in a heartbeat, his tongue swiping over your own sloppily as he breathes you in like a depraved man.

the only condition you had when you did this was for him to keep his hands to himself— at least until you both decide to move on to something else. until then, his fists clench the sheets beneath the both of you, and his ears stay flat on his fluffy head.

“i’m… i’m close again, g- aah, please, please…!” he begs, cock weeping precum as you continuously jerk him off. you smile, absentmindedly rocking your hips to the rhythm you held him prisoner to— gepard was too engulfed in the warmth of your hand to notice, anyways. “cum whenever you want sweet boy,” you purr, and he keens as he buries his face in your neck, his hips lifting off the bed ever so slightly as they meet your hand and he thrusts, riding the high of his orgasm.

sticky cum coats your hand for the nth time; you relent your grip on his cock for his sake, instead choosing to shower him with chaste kisses all over his face. gepard whines, taking ahold of your waist weakly as he breathes into the crook of your neck.

“geppie, your han-“ he cuts you off, swiftly switching positions so you’re now laying on your back as he hovers over you, chest rising and falling quickly, catching his breath from the intensity of his orgasm. gepard’s tail wags slowly behind him as his hands creep up from your waist to your chest just as slowly- you feel his cock harden against your pelvis, precum spilling from his pinky tip.

“‘ts my turn now,” he huffs, leaning down to nip at your neck.

boothill is the most obnoxious dalmatian hybrid you’ve ever seen (not that you’ve seen many, or at all). but he’s made your life so fun so you can’t be too mad at him

he’s always dragging you out of bed to go do something— could be going to the park nearby or sit in the living room playing video games on your dusty console, it doesn’t matter because he’ll MAKE you step out of your cozy nest!!

you’re glad he’s friendly, because you’re not sure how you would handle such an excited hybrid when you left the house. people come up to the both of you to chat and he indulges their questions, essentially leading the conversation (while you stand there awkwardly, not knowing what to say).

boothill is also great with kids, unexpectedly. 9 times out of 10 when you go to the park he ends up playing with someone’s child, bright smile on his face as he messes up their hair with a rough hand. they’ll throw a frisbee for him to go catch and he’ll do it happily, or he’ll even… teach them how to beat people up.

(you stare mortified as he teaches a little girl how to throw a proper punch only for her to then punch her parent when she leaves boothill’s side. you go up to them and apologize profusely, forcing boothill to bow with you.)

he also loves to help you out, even though he’s not the greatest at household chores— but he definitely tries! though he is a stellar cook, which never fails to surprise you whenever he’s on dinner duty. he just… really sucks at everything else.

it’s… mostly because he just has so much energy. he sweeps the floor? nope, he’s picking off the pieces of the broom off of the floor because he accidentally broke it. he’s fixing your bed? nuh uh, you’re throwing out the ruined bedsheets because he accidentally tore them to shreds somehow.

so, with all of these accidents happening because he’s just brimming with energy 24/7, you started purposely exhausting him. or, rather, gave him the green light to exhaust you until he tires himself out.

“booth-aah, w-wait, you’re being too…!” you fall over on top of his hard chest, keening at the new angle his cock reached inside of you. he repeated his assault on the spot that made you see stars as your jaw gaped, broken moans leaving your lips.

“don’t tell me y’re tapping out.. haa, already!” boothill grunts, his grip on your hips tightening. he throws his head back with a loud moan, abs tensing as he nears yet another climax— the 5th one of the night. maybe, maybe not. you lost count after the third one.

you bury your face into the crook of his neck, focusing on the feeling of his cock plugging you full instead of the soreness, the burn in your muscles that came from your knees holding you up on his lap.

watching you riding him will always be his favourite thing in the world, even if he always ends up fucking up into you and taking back control at the end of the night.

“gonna cu-uum…” you whine, clenching around his length almost painfully tightly, hearing his breathing hitch as an orgasm is ripped out of him in consequence to yours. boothill’s fingers dig into your ass, his hips lifting off the bed as he cums deep inside of your sloppy hole again, sticky fluid building up beneath the sheets.

you collapse on top of him fully, chest heaving against his own as you come back to your senses, slowly but surely. boothill’s ears perk up, hearing how your breathing had evening out.

“so… got another round in ya?”

[bnanamlkluvr]

promise to take it ノ blade . dan heng . jing yuan

ৎ୭ ₊ ˙ ⊹ . 1.6k ノ fem reader — steamy . slightly rough scenarios . separately ノ blade — prone bone . doing it raw . cumming inside ノ dan heng in his dragon form, but not entirely . missionary . implied mating season lol ノ jing yuan — size kink . riding him but he’s still in control and a menace

blade ノ

while the bedroom itself remains an oasis of solace and a delicate space where you can be yourself, never judged by his ruby eyes despite his low huffs and puffs at any of your antics, it is now also a jail for your sobs. cries disappearing in the supple cotton of the pillow as blade pounds into you, rough hands gripping your wrists like a rope. oh no, he will not allow you to push his hips away.

not after you begged for this just moments ago with that adorable whine of yours.

the dripping slickness saving you from the punishment that is him rutting into you with abandon. his cock stretches your pussy wide, filling you to the brim with every thrust, and you arch your back against him, letting him impale you over and over again on his heavy girth.

he growls, his fingers digging into your soft sides, leaving reddened imprints, as he pulls you towards him. he slams into you roughly, his balls slapping against your overly sensitive clit as he fucks you without mercy.

you squirm in his grasp, trying to break free, but no, his grip on you is firm. he doesn’t want you to move. you’re here just to take care of his needs.

the man above you breathes out, his long black hair falling over his arms and tickling your shoulders. using your body as he pleases, relentlessly pushing until only his base can’t settle into your cunt. you whimper, your legs shaking as you feel his tip brush against your deepest spot, and he chuckles. he likes how you clench around him, unsure if you want him to leave you or to welcome him deeper — this is how he knows you’re getting close.

and so blade leans forward, his breath burning your neck, and bites on your irritated skin. you cry out, your soppy walls throbbing to lure him into your heat, and he grunts as he hears your juices plapping down his thighs. the way you cream all over his cock — awfully erotic — your wetness coating his length, and he picks up his pace, pounding into you with renewed vigour. he wants to cum inside you. to fill you up.

a high-pitched squeal escapes your lips, your silhouette shivering with uncontrollable intensity. the overwhelming sensation becomes too much to bear, and you find yourself unable to endure it any longer; still played with like a pretty doll, pressed to the mattress with all of his weight. blade groans, his girth pulsing, and he snugs himself deep into you, cumming in thick, hot spurts, your pussy milking him until the very last drop.

you mewl at his treatment, your wrists aching from his bruising grip, and he smirks, his red eyes gleaming. the way you look right now, his favourite image of contained desires. his dear darling.

he will make it up to you later with sweet kisses and gentle caresses, but for now, he enjoys the sight of his cum oozing out of your well-fucked cunt, dripping onto the bedsheets.

dan heng ノ

this position isn’t something new, however, and even though the fact is pleasant to think about, you do wonder what caused him to get so bold. maybe at the sight of you admiring his partially changed form, eyes drinking in the beautiful shimmer of his scales, he understood that you find him so attractive — as always, but now also intrigued by other parts of him that might be different.

his hand traces the lines of your ribs as you inhale at the feeling of him entering deeper — the unfamiliar shape of his cock nesting comfortably against your soft insides — and then he puts some weight on top of you, pressing you further into the pillows, his lips barely touching your own, unsure if he already wants to kiss you.

“tell me if it hurts you.”

“it’s alright, really. you can… you know, continue…”

“now i’m more concerned that you seem to like it more than when we’re doing it… gentler.” surprised at his own talkativeness, there’s a red splash of colour on his cheeks as he bites his lips at the end of the sentence and buries his face in the crook of your neck. you giggle at his comment, but it turns into a needy moan as he moves his hips to rest snugly between your legs.

with your tongue, you slide across his upper lip, capturing it softly and biting on its tenderness, tasting a faint trace of his salty sweat and humming as he shivers, your fingers tangled in his hair, brushing through the ebony black locks, before whispering, “i know you’re holding back. no need to, i trust you.”

“mmh,” dan heng mutters with a shaky breath as his shaft hardens and thickens at your reactions. your reassuring words have such an impact on him; they're teasing him with this pleading tone of yours, allowing him to mate with you during the times when he gets so incredibly hot in your presence, unable to keep his hands off of you.

his thrusts start slow and measured; however, with each minute passing, he finds himself succumbing more and more to the instinct calling upon him; it is so much different now that you’re within his reach — how you react, how you look at him — everything makes him lose his cool. soon his lips find your nipple again, teeth grazing sensitive skin until you hiss, yet push yourself towards him, arching your back. the sting of his bite stimulates you to the point where your inner walls spasm, clamping down on him tightly as you almost cry out.

even the shallowest strokes produce audible squelching noises whenever he loses his rhythm. he’s just as intoxicated by the new sensation. the little details that change in his build now make you two melt in each other’s arms; his cock glides with fervour and carelessness against the spots that usually required precision.

the pleasure is overwhelming, even a bit scary how accurate at bringing the sweetest of your sobs out. his instincts still force him to grip at your shoulders — you let him do this — to slam harder inside of your pussy. and you can barely take it, but he quickly looks at the side on the clock, and it’s been barely minutes since he started…

jing yuan ノ

he embraces you tightly, wide arms with ease groping your entire body as you shudder, and let him bring you closer, your back pressed to his soft yet firm chest — allowing his cock to reach deeper, spearing your entrance until your essence seeps out in abundance between your bodies.

usually, you would expect jing yuan to prefer being face to face with you, but also knowing what a menace he can be, there must’ve been something more on his mind. which catches you by surprise when you notice his fingers circle your clit from the front, sort of caging you between one pleasure and another as you helplessly try to wriggle out of his iron grip.

at that, what you hear is a chuckle — deep like the ocean, sweet like honey, dripping with both love and lust, and making you all fuzzy from within. the waves of immense enjoyment lap at your limbs from all sides, and you gasp out when his palm rubs you so skillfully, with care and adoration.

“no matter which part of you i touch… it’s a pleasure to watch you shake in my arms.“ he purrs with a small smile, nibbling at your earlobe and inhaling the sweet scent of your hair. you wish to nod but can't, in fear that it’ll only spur him further on to bounce you on his cock and enjoy how you struggle with each thrust. “does my beloved bird feel good?”

before you can answer — which you would love to, gathering the strength and courage to wail and sob into his lips as your head falls back on his shoulder — his palm moves up from your bundle of nerves to your tummy, pressing on the soft flesh there. intently. he knows exactly what to do to get a specific reaction out of you, to make himself moan as you clench abruptly on his girth despite your walls sobbing at the stretch. you feel so full in that moment, choking on your breath at the additional pressure, too occupied with his cock filling your body so wholly.

as he starts to fuck you relentlessly — you cry out, the pitch of your voice higher and higher as you slowly become incapable of maintaining any volume at all — the tiniest sounds, broken huffs of air leaving your mouth; your eyes are glassy with tears, and all you want to do is bury yourself in the pillows and blankets, somehow escape from this prison of bliss. but he holds you close, one hand fondling your breast and the other playing around your lower abdomen, always there where you don’t want him at the moment, just to tease and make you more and more desperate.

a little flick of his thumb against your pearl, a press on your belly, maybe even fingers parting your folds as he drags his fat tip in and out at the perfect angle. it’s enough to throw you over the edge again.

as if your body belonged to him — and he, being the ever caring lover, already knows everything about you, that you enjoy it too much when he manhandles you like this.

[bnanamlkluvr]

ᴘᴇʀɪᴏᴅ ꜱᴇx? ⨟ ʜꜱʀ ᴍᴇɴ

✭ pairing(s): aventurine, dr ratio, boothill, gallagher, sunday, sampo, jing yuan, blade, luocha, dan heng, gepard, caelus, welt (seperate) x reader

✩ inspo: im feeling sick in the head and also Fuck Me by Vernon Jane

✧ a/n: uhhmmmm i deserve to be a little freaky and weird and perverse ALSO IDK WHY THE X LOOKS LIKE THAT AND ITS ANNOYING ME TOO. LETS IGNORE IT, TOGETHER

🗒 cw: SMUT, gn! afab reader (for the bad bitches with uteruses), period sex (spoiler: theyre ALL into it.), fingering, face sitting, use of toys, dry humping (?), thigh riding, cunnilingus, thigh job, mutual masturbation, cowgirl/boy position, mating press, not proofread

✎ wc: 4.1k

MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY

⎯ Aventurine

AVENTURINE is all for it, if it means it’ll make you feel better. He prefers to use toys, if anything. He doesn’t mind getting his hands dirty, but he’s more worried about hurting you. So he’s got a set of vibrators specifically that he likes to use while you’re on your period. And if you ask, he’ll probably buy a couple new ones, as well.

You do your best to stay still underneath Aventurine, eyes shut tight as you buck your hips up against the wand between your legs. Aventurine looks down smugly at you, mirth glimmering in those beautiful eyes of his. The beneath your stomach had long since turned into a delicious feeling of wholeness and warmth, and you couldn’t help but chase after it. Aventurine, for once, cannot bring himself to tease about how desperate you are to cum.

He had amped up the wand to its max intensity, just to make sure you had felt it through your clothes. Not that you hadn’t, you were practically pushing your pussy up against it the minute he had brought out the vibrator, doing anything to get yourself off. You feel the pleasure mounting all too quickly, yet chase after it nonetheless. You grab Aventurine’s wrist and whined, legs tensing and closing as if to ward off the vibrator. And like that, the pressure releases, giving way to a blissful feeling, the last of your cramps fading away so… easily.

“That good, huh?” Aventurine chides, a sultry grin plastered on his features as he lowers the intensity of the vibrator, yet still presses it up against your clothed clit to let you ride out your high. You don’t respond, basking in the sensation (and the fact that your cramps are gone).

⎯ Dr. Ratio

VERITAS may act hesitant when you bring up the idea, but he doesn’t say no. He’s more worried about how he should go about it than anything, and while it isn’t unfamiliar territory to him, he’s just… unsure of himself. Ultimately, he settles on toys, normally vibes, but dildos will do as well.

It was rather late by the time you had come complaining to him, and he was already behind on grading his student’s papers. Normally, he’d tell you to give him a couple more minutes to finish up his work and you give him that time, but with how much you're groaning and talking about the pain, he’s quite quick to put his pen down. He adjusts himself and slides open his legs, patting his thigh for you to sit down on, with barely another word.

And of course you sit down, your cramps had been killing you all day and you were desperate to find any way to get rid of them because painkillers just… weren’t working. You start to weakly grind against his thigh, hands holding yourself up by his strong shoulders. His right arm wraps around your waist and guides you slow rocking movements, fishing through his desk and finding a vibrator wand. He felt a little embarrassed to have kept something so… lewd in his desk, but then again, there were moments like this that made him feel a little bit better about keeping it.

He sets it on a lower setting, pressing it against your clit and you grind against his thigh. He watches intently, his gaze soft as he does his best to coax you through it, small, soft praises that no one would expect from Veritas himself. But he’s worried, more than aroused. If this is what helps your cramps, then he doesn’t mind, he doesn’t even protest. He watches as your face goes from tensed to relaxed, moaning out his name and even small ‘thank you’s as your heat mounts.

⎯ Boothill

You don’t even have to ask BOOTHILL, the minute you complain about your cramps, he’s on his knees, tugging at the hem of your pants. He prefers to eat you out on your period, given his skilled tongue. Any ‘but’s you had when you first brought the idea up were quickly swept away, he’d eat you out every day of the week during your cycle, or even all day, if you needed it.

Boothill groans against your sex, head buried between your thighs as your hands tug at his hair, a silent praise for just how good he was doing. While he feels quite feverish, his pace is slow and languid, drawing out every little sound of yours he can. The metallic taste on his tongue is just another reward, really. His hands grip your thighs as he presses a series of kisses against your clit, before delving his tongue back into your heat.

Soft sighs escape you as he continues his ministrations, unbothered by the way you squirm every so often or tug at his hair. He’s drunk off the taste of you, really. He laps up the blood as if it was his last meal, groaning every now and then when he had to take a breath. Sometimes he murmurs something in your flesh, too muffled for you to hear, but the vibrations of his gravelly voice provide an exquisite feeling. If you could do this all day, you would.

Heat curls beneath your stomach as Boothill suckles on your clit, thighs pressing against either side of his face as you grind your hips further into his mouth like he wasn’t close enough. Your head spins as you finally let go, letting out a low moan and cumming into his mouth. He licks it all up, letting out a low, guttural sound of approval, his mouth pressed against your folds for a second longer. He withdraws with a gentle kiss pressed to your clit, and a cocky grin sent your way. He quite enjoys the mess.

⎯ Gallagher

The minute you brought the idea up, GALLAGHER is down. He’d do anything you asked him to, from simply fingering you to full on penetration, whatever you want, he does. He wants you to feel better, and by Aeons, he’ll do just that. Would period cramps even exist in a dream? Doesn’t matter. If he knows it’ll help you, he’s on it.

His fingers sink deep within your pussy, a satisfied smile gracing his lips as you roll your hips against his fingers, moaning softly. His thumb presses against your clit, rubbing circles against it. Lewd squelching sounds fill your ears and you desperately chase after his fingers every time the pull back slightly, head leaning back against Gallagher’s shoulder, splayed out in his lap.

“That’s it,” He coos, his free hand wrapped around your waist, squeezing at your hip. He presses a quick kiss to the crook of your neck, pulling you impossibly closer as he picks up the pace of his fingers. Heat spreads throughout your body, your eyes rolling back as you surrender to the feeling. “Doesn’t that feel better, sweetheart?”

Before you can catch it, your orgasm sneaks up on you all too quickly. You barely felt it build up, and now you’ve cum on Gallagher’s fingers. He lets out a throaty chuckle as you do so, tilting your head and moaning into his ear. With a few more pumps of his rough fingers, he pulls them out slowly, admiring his work. You breathe heavily, doing what you can to catch your breath. Your eyes follow his hand as he brings it up to his mouth, sucking off the rest of your blood and cum from his fingers with a satisfied, sultry look.

⎯ Sunday

SUNDAY would feel quite… down, knowing that period cramps still exist within Penacony. Knowing you can’t even escape them in the Dreamscape, he can’t help but wallow a little. But, with that, he will do anything to take away the pain. And when you suggest period sex, he’s practically scrambling for a condom.

Water sloshes around you as Sunday’s hands curl up at your sides, nails digging into flesh. He presses his nose to the crook of your neck, moaning against your skin as he bucks his hips up into you. Your back is pressed flush against his chest, his cock buried within you as he does his best to guide you by your hips. He lets out soft groans here and there, evidently enjoying this more than you are.

He does his best to minimize splashing, yet he is eager to please, and to make you feel better. He isn’t rough or fast, taking you at a rather languid pace, but with how feverish his groans are, how his hips stutter every now and then, he’s rather close himself. He can’t help himself, simply being this close to you has him hard. You roll your head back, moaning against his ear, and he just can’t help but cum.

You follow soon after as Sunday peppers kisses against your neck, sloppily at first, but becoming more refined as he shakes off that needy headspace. The pressure in your stomach gives way to blissful heaven then nothingness, the pain that spread to your stomach and legs, gone, just like that. When you turn your head to look at Sunday, he was a gentle smile plastered to his lips, eyelashes fluttering as if he himself had felt your pain go away.

⎯ Argenti

ARGENTI does everything that he can for you when you start your period. No questions asked. In fact, he’s the one that brings up the idea of sex. He’ll eat you out as you wish, finger you, or simply fuck you as gently or as hard as you wish. He doesn’t mind a mess, he actually quite likes it.

He indulges in his desires so easily when it’s you. When his eyes flutter open, he looks up at you with the utmost devotion, head buried between your thighs as you ride his face. Your moans only spur him on, and when you look behind you, you can see his painfully hard erection that has gone untouched. He planned on delighting you in every single way you asked him to, but insisted on starting with his favorite.

Argenti whimpers against your flesh, too caught up in his own selfish desires as his normally profound and rather elegant tongue-fucking turns feverish and sloppy, as if this was something he had always wanted. It was hard for him to break his normally so composed character, and yet here he was, so messy for his lover above him, he himself was desperate to quell the cramps you had been dealing with. His mouth works at a head-spinning pace for once, licking a fat stripe up your folds, kissing your clit, then practically making out with whatever he could put his mouth on.

Just as you orgasm, he lets out a guttural groan, something that came from deep within his throat, lapping up what he can and more. Yet, when you look behind you, Argenti’s cock is drooling, flushed, with sticky white tendrils coating his abdomen. His face flushes when you notice, but he doesn’t hide it. “Apologies…” He mutters against your flesh, giving it another kiss before raising your hips and helping you get off.

⎯Sampo Koski

Whatever you need, SAMPO has for you. He prefers to finger you while on your period, but he doesn’t mind full on sex, or even using toys. If he can’t be there when you’re on your period, he’ll make sure you have plenty of toys to keep yourself… company.

Sampo groans softly behind you, his leg thrown over yours as you two spoon, his fingers gliding over your folds. He doesn’t dare push them in, not yet, anyways. As much as you begged him, he wanted to be as difficult as possible, no matter how much you complained how bad the cramps were getting. Despite that, you were shuddering at any long stroke, the way his pointer and middle finger caged your clit in between them, a satisfied hum coming from his throat.

“Mmm…” He moans, grinding against your ass. He still can’t help getting himself off, the sounds of your breath hitching and soft moans as you ask him for more, how can he not get off on that? How selfish of him, really, to abate your pleasure in favor for his… “Feels good, huh?”

The audacity of this man, it’s as if he’s taunting you. Before you can complain, he finally presses both fingers to your clit, rubbing agonizingly slow circles around it. His grinding borders on desperate as he does so, burying the face in the crook of your neck as his eyebrows furrow. The bastard had came before he even gave you the chance to build up… but he doesn’t leave you hanging. As if he felt bad that he had teased you. His fingers sink into your heat, thumb pressed against your clit. He pumps them at a leisurely pace, unhurried still. Sampo’s breath is heavy as he comes down from his high, head still spun up in the need to please. He’ll apologize correctly, he swears, after you cum AT LEAST twice…

⎯ Jing Yuan

JING YUAN is actually quite delighted to have any hand in making you feel better. From making sure you have you painkillers and enough snacks, to making sure your need is sated. He’s quite happy when you ask for sex, and his go to is NORMALLY fingering, but tonight, he’s feeling a little different…

Warm water runs down your back as you press your lips to Jing Yuan’s shoulder, the scent his cologne filling your senses. After a long day of work, he had proposed a shower with you, but now, it had long been forgotten, his large hands placed on your hips as he rolled his own slowly. His cock is pressed between your thighs, dragging against your folds, the head notching against your clit every few seconds. The push and pull makes your head spin, leaning in to him to keep yourself up.

He had been craving you all day, almost too distracted to finish his work. He didn’t know exactly what brought on the sudden bout of clinginess, you were always on his mind, yes, but nothing quite like this. So, when he came home to you, complaining about your cramps, it felt like every aligned, clicked into place. He was quick to comfort you… and more.

He chuckles softly above you as your nails dig into his arms, which was quickly replaced with a low, content moan. He leans his head down, picking up the pace of his thrusts ever so slightly, causing you to gasp. Your thighs tense as pressure rises beneath your stomach, Jing Yuan kept up with the steady pace. Slowly, drag after drag, the pressure builds, and then releases as you shudder, pressed up against him. He guides you through your orgasm, his thrusts slow as he allowed you to come down from your high. He held off his own orgasm, pulling away from you with a soft smiler, an even softer gaze.

⎯ Blade

BLADE may sound reluctant but he’s quite thrilled with the idea. He doesn’t mind fingering you, but he actually quite enjoys giving you head. To have his mouth pressed against you, a towel beneath you, while he works his magic… he could ask for nothing more.

He’s feeling especially ravenous tonight, and has you perched up on the couch, over his face, while he strokes his cock. The other hand holds you by your thigh, letting out low grunts and groans in between sloppy kisses and licks to your pussy. He’s greedy, but unhurried, making sure to let his contentment be known through lewd noises.

He doesn’t say much, as he normally does, simply feasting on whatever he can. Moans escaped him as he continued to stroke himself, hips bucking impatiently. His teeth scrape against your folds every now and then, taking what he wants. He draws out any sounds he can from you, his pace bordering on desperation. His grip tightens on your thigh, watching as you tense every now and then.

Ultimately, your moans become more frequent, Blade’s sloppy eating getting to you as heat surges through your body, your hands gripping the back of the couch. You look down between your legs and meet Blade’s gaze, fiery and passionate. You can’t help but lose yourself in those eyes, even with such a lewd action. He laps up every drop of your essence, letting out a satisfied hum before shifting his attentions to his own cock, desperate to get himself off, as if he was finished. Which, he wasn’t, really. It was the first of many orgasms that night, he’d make sure it was.

⎯ Luocha

Far be it for LUOCHA to deny you pleasure. Especially when you come to him glassy eyed, hands over your stomach, muttering about how you’d do anything to make the cramps go away. He’d do anything to see you smiling again. And when your eyes light up at the suggestion, he’s more than happy to go through with it.

You had asked him for help, and by Aeons, Luocha would make sure you would feel better. He cages you in via a mating press, his hair falling around you like a veil. His eyes are closed and eyebrows furrowed as he moans, pressing as deep into you as he can. His voice was groggy and heavy, only to have just woken up. Yet he was lucid enough to lose himself within you.

He leans in and presses a feverish kiss to your lips, his strokes slow and measured, pausing every time his cock was fully seated in you. At this moment he could care less about the blood on his dick, too tired to control his desires and submitting to some sort of primal urge that welled within him. Luocha, so normally controlled, yet still a slave to desire.

It was early morning, you yourself didn’t know what time exactly. You had just woken up, and for whatever reason you just couldn’t sleep. Unfortunately, your cramps had caught up to you before you could fall asleep, and aside from moaning and groaning in bed, you had woken up Luocha to help, at least not wanting to be alone while it felt like your cramps were eating you alive. He seemed so eager to help, and now that you were beneath him, you understood why.

⎯ Dan Heng

DAN HENG is not adverse to the idea at all, the first time you had asked, he was quick to suggest toys. Any time your cycle comes around and you suggest period sex, he’s got a towel at the ready and a vibrator of your choice picked out.

He sits behind you, eyes transfixed on your sex as he presses a wand up to your clit. His hand rests on your thigh as you buck your hips against the toy, whining softly. You do your best to keep quiet, Dan Heng’s lack of noise making you feel slightly awkward. Yet, he spurs you on in his own quiet way, pressing the wand a little harder against your clit.

His fingers trail from your thigh to your hip, now resting his chin on your shoulder. He listens intently to all the little sounds you make, before whispering silent praises to you. You had already cum twice, your cramps a distant thought by now. But you had asked for more, and Dan Heng would deliver, as always.

Before your orgasm can creep up on you, he pulls the vibrator away from you and shuffles out from behind you. You complain, but he urges you to lay down, rifling through one of your drawers for a box of condoms. He looks back at you with a barely noticeable smirk. Something that told you to hush up and wait…

⎯ Gepard

While GEPARD is hesitant when the suggestion of period sex is proposed, when you tell him that it could help lessen your cramps, he’s rather eager to get started. He finds that his fingers work best, if you two can’t find a condom.

Gepard is quite antsy when you come home, you had texted him that you had had a bad day, and that your cramps were kicking your ass, and he wanted to make it allll better. He had bought you all sorts of treats, flowers, ordered takeout, the list goes on. And when the door opened he had showered you with all sorts of questions, what else he could do to make your day better, how he can help, whatever he could do. One question makes you shake off your bad mood so quickly, though: “Do you want me to get you your vibrator?”

So there you are, sitting across from Gepard, legs open as you press the want to your clit, while he strokes himself slowly. His eyes drop to your folds, his face practically red. He feels… perverted, but he just can’t help himself. Your soft breaths guiding his arousal, eyes darting nervously between your face and to your pussy, then back to your face.

Eventually, he came prematurely, stuttering over his words and muttering apologies after he does, only to be met with a soft sigh from you. He can’t help but watch with rapt fascination, that same flush painting his face continuously. And when you cum, he practically cuddles up to you, peppering kisses across your face and neck, praising you.

⎯ Caelus

You don’t bring up the idea, CAELUS does. He practically begs before you even get the chance to say you’re down. He goes all in, really, depends on what you are feeling like. You want him to eat you out? He’s on his knees. Want him to fuck you? All good with him. He’ll use toys as well, if you aren’t comfortable with any part of him being in you.

He shudders beneath you as his hands guide your hips up and down his cock, groaning softly, eyes heavy-lidded and glassy, eyes darting everywhere like he doesn’t know exactly what to look at. You prop yourself up by your hands on his chest, head dipped as every thrust makes you forget all about your woes.

He does his best not to cum, simply the sight of you riding him like that, taking what you want, it feels like it’s too much. He always did his best to make your periods tolerable, if you weren’t down for sex, he’d grab any snack he could, make sure you had a heating pad, pain killers, and whatever else you wanted. But when you were down for sex, Aeons, he could go all night. That’s one perk of housing a stellaron inside of his body.

“F-Fudge, you’re good…” Caelus groans. You can’t help but chuckle softly at the word ‘fudge’, you know exactly where– who– he picked it up from, and he returns your chuckle in kind. He was never one to take sex seriously, and will never, even when it’s something like… fucking your cramps away.

⎯ Welt

Who better to take care of you than WELT YANG? He does not mind the mess at all, whichever way you want him to take you, he will do. He’s on top of everything, the painkillers you need, snacks you’d like, eating pads, the whole thing. And when it comes to you asking him about period sex? He gladly says yes.

“Feeling better?” Welt murmurs against your skin, his fingers sinking into your warm heat. He knew well enough that of course one little movement wouldn’t make your cramps go away. But with how reassuring he had been, and even how quick he was to comply with your request for sex. He had set a towel beneath you, and even brought out a myriad of toys to use if you so wished.

Slowly he pumped his fingers inside you, head resting on your shoulder as he watched his own movements. His gentle smile persists as you moan, melting at his touch. His free hand strokes your back, coaxing you through it with soft words as your walls clamp around his fingers. He draws out each motion for you, slow and deliberate, pressing a kiss to your shoulder with each moan you let out.

Even with his slow movements, you find that your orgasm sneaks up on you all too quickly. You press your legs together as if to keep him out, heat curling up beneath your stomach and down your legs. He doesn’t stop, simply nudging your legs open with his free hand, curling his fingers and hitting juuust the right spot. You whine and cum over his fingers, grinding your hips against them weakly. He allows you to ride out your high, that placant smile playing on his lips still.

© sentoooo, 2024 | masterlist | kofi | star header by roseschoices | sfw blog DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN, REPOST ON ANY OTHER PLATFORM, OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[bnanamlkluvr]

Dreaming of You

Series Masterlist

Word count: 2,300+

Synopsis: He couldn't help it. You looked so heavenly in his dreams. The way he had you wrapped around his body as a marionette in his minds, dancing for them as he awoke to sticky blankets when he jolted upright. His thoughts got the better of them, and he wanted to make them a reality.

Warnings: king x afab!reader, size difference, monsterfucking, wet dreams, NSFW, MDNI, 18+, smut, grinding, degradation, praise, (pet names: little star, little one, pet, slut), masturbation, size kink, bukkake, dubcon, masturbating while listening to masturbating. It does not fit.

Notes: This one got away with me. First time writing for King. There is a large size difference.

Sitting on a large throne within the dark room, the lunarian King took residency over his dominion. Wisps of smoke-like vapors flooded the outer perimeter as you approached the giant bench made for kneeling. Your gown lay in a deep ‘v’ cut down to your naval, dual leg slits rising to your hip bones on either leg. Holding your head high, you held your arms out either side of you as you looked down your nose at him and hardened your quaking emotions.

Helmet lain askew by his side, he beckoned you in closer with a coax of his large finger. “Closer, little star. Don't be shy. A little closer for me.”

He watches as your eyes drift down to his other hand, wrapped around his cock and slowly pistoning the hard shaft within his soft, vice-like grip. The length of his cock was almost the height of your body from the balls of your feet, to the tip of your diaphragm. His girth was the width of your torso, thick and veiny while throbbing in deep desire.

Not ignoring the bob in your throat at such a request, he allowed a low growl to pass through his lips at your hesitation.

“I will not ask again, pet,” his lips curled back as he snarled at you, the creases in his eyes at his deep furrow warning you of the danger you were in at this request. “You wanted this. You asked for this. You said you would do it,” he rose from the seat, towering over you at his full height, “So do it.”

Gulping back your fear of the right hand of Kaido, you nod at him and slowly approach his throne, ushering him down with a soft and calm gesture of your hands. He sighed out through his nose, slouching back into his seat with a gruff huff, lazily fisting at his cock as he watched your sultry approach.

Reaching up to the mid of your gown, you tugged at the drawstring and revealed your bare form to him while attempting to conceal your joy at the small shudder in his jaw at your appearance. Bare for his eyes only, you nodded at him and slowly walked up the steps towards the throne.

“What made you make such a lewd suggestion, little star?” He asked, reaching his hand out towards you as you approached. You tilted your head to the side, almost brushing your scalp against the tip of his cock as you stood between his legs.

“Curiosity,” you utter with a soft hum. Looking down through the corner of your eyes, he noticed you assessing his size as you stood beside his cock. He noticed how close it was in size to you, his lips curling up into a smirk as he compared the size of his tip to your head. You playfully stood flush beside it for him to make the true comparison.

“And is your curiosity satisfied?” he asked, releasing your fingers from his hand and reclining back onto the seat. You hum in falsified thought, tapping your chin before you reach for his cock and giving it a gentle caress.

“Almost,” you smirk back at him, mirroring his dark playfulness to match his energy. “How do you want me?” You ask, truly curious while looking around the room. It was his turn to him in thought, never thinking about the technicalities of such a tryst, only the desire that came from the request.

“When you're alone, how do you picture me? On-top of you, beneath you, above you, below you?” He smirked, noticing your fluster as you bit your lip, “I know you do, pet. Talk to me.” You gulp back as he stoops lower.

“Do you grind yourself down, pressing that pretty cunt into your hand or pillow, and rock your hips like a needy little slut?” He huskily purred at you, watching the heat rise in your face and bottom lip quiver, “Or do you lie on your back and use those little digits to roll your clit against them until your back arches. C’mon, little star. Tell me what you like to do when you picture me.”

You gulp, stuttering in your mind before words could even form coherent strings between your lips. His grin widens at your silence, toying and fussing at your bare skin with his fingers.

“Or maybe you like to stand, hm? Stand up with your legs parted on your tip-toes while you picture my fat cock pistoning through them?” your breath hitches at the filth pouring from his lips, not escaping your notice how his cock bobs and twitches at each suggestion. “C'mon, little one, talk to me. Tell me how you picture me when you think about riding my cock. There is no way it will fit inside you, so you better tell me-.”

“-I like grinding,” you hurriedly confess, finally stifling your nerves enough to inform the gargantuan of your preferences, “I like being on top and rolling my hips down. I like the feeling of my clit being overwhelmed by every rocking movement I make against my hands, or a pillow.” King chuckles and leans back in his chair with a deep sigh in gratuity, pumping his shaft in languid motions.

“Go on, pet. What happens, hm?” he prodded you, causing you to nod at him as you continue.

“I like to picture you as you are here, sat on a chair with your cock in your palm,” you profess your desires to the larger man without shame, approaching him with intentional strides, “I like to picture me straddling your cock and gliding my slick pussy against your shaft while you use me. Taking me in both hands and using my body to masturbate with.” He grinned at you, his eyes darkening as a deep growl purred from the pit of his gut.

“And then?” he continued, his hands picking up, pinching the blunt tip of his cock as his arousal pooled from the head of his cock and began to gather in his digits.

“Then, I picture your cum painting my body from head to toe,” you whisper your final confession while placing soft kisses to his hot shaft, “And then I cum so fucking hard I see stars. I cry for you.” He growled, halting his motions and circling your waist with one of his hands.

“That sounds marvelous. But with two slight adjustments,” he easily hoisted you in the air without effort, drawing you up to his face as he purred at you. “One: you're going to be beneath me. I want to see those pretty eyes roll back in your skull when you cum.”

You whimper as he moves you down to his cock, parting your thighs and mediately slotting himself against you.

“And, two:” he moved your arms and legs to hook around him from beneath and lock you in place by your own arms, “You're going to cum before me. Got that? You're gonna cum so fucking hard for me, everyone's gonna hear you scream.”

In one hand alone, he rocked your body against his hot shaft. The veins of his underside ground themselves against your glistening pussy and caused you to cry out. This was far better than anything you had ever imagined of him, or attempted to stimulate yourself on. No grinding pad, vibrator, hands, other cocks or pillows had come close to the throbbing cock currently wrapped within the grasp of your body.

Rocking his hips, he ensured your ass and thighs were supported by his smallest and unity fingers. Your back was circled by his index and middle while he pressed his palm up against your hips to ensure you were flush against him.

“Keep-... Fuck-... Keep your arms wrapped around me, little star,” he ordered, continuing to use your body to grind onto himself with. “Legs too. Lock them at the ankles and grind that pretty cunt against me. I can feel how slick you are. How wet you are for me.”

You let out a soft mewl in protest to his words, but the feeling of his thick cock was too good on you to care. Doing as he asked, you clasped your ankles together while embracing his shaft by circling them around him. His tip was so close to your face, you could see how much desire he had for you in the soft pearlescent dewdrop expelling itself from his slit.

Rocking your hips in time with his slow motions, you felt your chest and ass ripple with each motion. Continuing to grind into him, soft gasps and groans flew from Kings lips at each piston.

Finally growing tired of the languid pace, he circled his other hand against you and thrust his hips up in time with his desperate thrusts. Huffing and panting, his wings fluttered behind him as he began to desperately seek out his satisfaction by using your body. The sloppy claps echoed throughout the room each time he bucked his hips up into you, the tip of his cock grinding against your face before your ass would slap against his balls beneath him.

Each time your ass clapped against his balls, his pitch would get higher and more desperate. The chant of: “fuck, fuck, fuck,” spilt from his lips alongside your name as he continued to use your body to chase his own satisfaction. Deciding to add more to his pleasure, you parted your lips to kiss the swollen tip of his cock each time your face met with it. Rolling your tongue and mouthing at him, you could feel your desire pool in the pit of your belly and coil tighter.

Throwing his head back, his pace quickened. If your ankles were not locked together, you would've been all over the place with floppy legs at the amount of pleasure the pressure was sending you. Growing erratic, he gazed back down at you and snarled through dangerous eyes.

“You better cum, little one. Cum for me. Be a good little slut and cum on my cock like this,” he barked, thrusting his hips up to punctuate his order. You whimpered as your body felt ignited with pleasure, only needing one more thing to truly set your own hunger alight.

“Cum on me, King. I need you to cum on my face and use my body to meet your high. I promise I'll cum, please,” you begged him, causing his breath to hitch as he continued to rock your much smaller head against his sensitive tip and frenulum while your body ground itself against his veiny shaft.

“You want me to fucking cum? I'll cum for you, little slut. Tongue out, n-now,” he staggered, his orders shooting sparks of lighting down your body and weaving the coil tighter in your stomach. As you lulled your tongue out, his eyes rolled back and his cock twitched with desperation.

“F-Fuck, I'm gonna-!” was all the warning he gave you before ropes of his release flooded your face and dripped down your torso, adding that final wave of lust to shoot lighting into your body. As his cum struck your face, lighting shot through you as your vision snapped white.

“K-King!” you screamed, your pussy twitching as you gushed on his cock. The friction added to your ecstasy as his cum continued to pool from his tip and overwhelm you with his viscous lust.

“Nghh- cumming-, fuck, fuck, take it. Take my cum, little star. Take it,” he barked at you, his feral desire to mark you with his cum as you screamed and mewled on his cock in time with your release grew more and more. Calling your name and chasing his high, he both degraded you and praised you for being so good and listening. Your little whimpers and whines set him off more, the peak of his release overwhelming your senses as it dripped down his base.

As he looked down at your body covered in cum, his vision faded into dark whisps. The shadows from the room engulfed you within and he shot himself upright.

Finding himself alone in his room had him roar in rage. Peeling back the blankets, he noticed his cock was twitching as his waistband now stuck to his abdomen with the sticky coat of shame trickling down his abdomen. He was overwhelmed at the knowledge that he called your name in his sleep, his dream conjuring up your image to tempt him with…

…and the fact he liked it so much.

“Fuck,” he whispered, dragging his hand down and beginning to ride out the final waves of his dream by calling your name and grinding his cock into his palm. A pathetic final spurt released from his tip as his orgasm was already spilt within his pants. Groaning out a soft whine, he shamelessly used your name as he pictured those final moments of your body on his cock.

Eyes blissed out, arms and legs braced against him, tongue lulled and covered in his cum. He needed that. He needed you. He was going to have you.

Moans from King's bedroom had your hand slipping down the front of your pants, your index and middle finger dancing against your body as soon as you heard him call your name. You knew you shouldn't be doing this, but the echos of his gruff moans were too hard for you to ignore. As he reached his high and called your name, you clapped your other hand over your lips as your body was ushered into your own ecstasy. Rocking your hips and stifling your silent scream in your palm, you came hard on your hand.

Removing your fingers from your pussy, you wiped them on your thigh to rid them of slick before turning away and scurrying back down the hallway towards your own room with haste.

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @sordidmusings @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady

[bnanamlkluvr]

everyone should have a token pussy eater on their roster. a man that wouldn’t even dare to take out his cock if all you did was tell him to eat your pussy. a boy that’s so well behaved he wouldn’t even entertain the thought of letting his cock pry you open if the initial goal is to make you cream on his tongue. it should be a god given right, really.

imagine how nice it would be to have an armin or a shoyo willing to drop to his knees so he could push his tongue past your folds— sucking on your clit, lapping up your juices as if you’re some sort of summer fruit. a megumi or a yuta eating you out to make an insufferable day just a little bit better.

boys who can cum in their pants by only having his head between your legs as he ruts against the bed. glossy and puffy lips that are slightly parted as he catches his breath. yeah. ♡

armin, jean, connie, yuuji, yuta, inumaki, megumi, isagi, hiori, yukimiya, tanjiro, shoyo, sugawara, keiji, takemichi, kazutora, chifuyu, call 1-800-token-pussy-eater for more information.

[bnanamlkluvr]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪ match my freak !!

ᝰ.ᐟ the two of you are private not secret, but when the media starts to speculate that the two of you are no longer together, neither of you are too happy. the best way to get everyone to stop with the breakup rumors? posting something a little bit nasty to the feed to satiate everyone's curiosity. (fem!reader)

featuring tobio kageyama, atsumu miya, tetsurou kuroo, wakatoshi ushijima, tooru oikawa, rintarou suna content contains breeding kink (atsumu, wakatoshi), pregnant reader (wakatoshi), famous!reader (changes depending on scenario), creampie (tetsurou), hatefucking (not really, you + kuroo just like to antagonize each other but the attraction is there), scratches on his back (tobio), hickeys (tooru), wet n messy (rintarou), possessive!character x possessive!reader (the two of you are obsessed with each other ok), social media references lol author's notes i'm definitely doing a blue lock version, i'm just seeing if this is a popular premise lol <3 based off this original concept !! these are just silly little drabbles for me to warm up to the idea of writing again haha

౨ৎ TOBIO KAGEYAMA

your fans are speculating: that you and kageyama have broken up. fans are recording footage from you on your latest tour and claim that you're "clearly disassociating" and "somewhere else mentally" when it comes to singing your iconic love songs. you and kageyama have always kept your relationship private because he's not a very open person to begin with, and you don't want to give the media more material to misconstrue. you know that kageyama hates when some random person will annotate your verses on genius lyrics and try to make the claim that your innocent metaphor is you wanting to jump ship and leave kageyama. and you hate how it's your own fans who are making wild accusations of you no longer being with the man all your love songs are about.

you posted: kageyama, with his back turned to the camera so all that fills your camera is the surprisingly broad expanse of his muscular back and shoulders. he's not even flexing, and it's obvious that he's a world-class athlete. he's facing the closet, trying to find a shirt to put on, and it would be a semi-innocent photo, the pinterest-perfect photo inspo for every private not secret relationship out there, except for the fact that there are clearly faint, red lines — scratches — running down his back. you caption the photo with a "monday morning 🤍" (your insane fans spam the comment section to exclaim how they knew you two were still a thing... and to speculate that this photo is somehow an easter egg for an upcoming song/album. well, they're right: you two will always be a thing, and tobio dicked you down so good last night that you could write him a whole album.)

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

"fuck," the word slips through his gritted teeth, and you can tell that your tobio is still upset about how your fans seem divided. half of them claim no one could ever make them hate tobio (you find those fans to be absolutely adorable), and the other half...

well, the other half are making slideshow posts to audios that go "some boys take a beautiful girl and hide her away from the rest of the world" and the ones that seem to go viral are always the ones that feature you and tobio.

"not hidin' you away." he mutters, never slowing down his thrusts. he admires the expression on your face as he fucks into you, his ego pleased with how receptive you are to his every movement. he has you speared on his cock, your tight little cunt full of him, your eyes getting so adorably teared-up because he's just a little bit too much for you to handle. tobio isn't good with words; he thinks you're the most beautiful girl to exist, but he can't verbalize it. so he just takes in your sweet, fucked-out face, the reaction only he's capable of drawing from you, and it all gets so overwhelming for him.

he has to bury his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling the sweet scent of your body wash as he continues to bully his cock into your soaked pussy. "why's it bad if i want to keep you all to myself?" he's practically whining, and you think this would be so cute if only you weren't currently chasing after your release. or rather, tobio's forcing you to cum, whether you want to or not. it's not like you can stop him; tobio devotes himself to always ensuring that you finish before him. he likes the satisfaction of knowing only he can take care of you, and he especially likes the way his cock looks with you creaming all over it.

when he gets like this, all you can do is cling to him, your arms wrapped around his muscular build. when he gets rough with his thrusts, when his body gets just the slightest bit sweaty from the exertion (evidence of just how much work he puts into fucking you), you have to dig your manicured nails (the set he paid for) into the skin of his toned back. otherwise, you'd lose your grip, and your hands would slip off.

tobio relishes the slight stinging pain of your nails scratching down his skin. but the scratches aren't enough. he needs to make you cum. when you get so caught up in your climax, you start clawing at him as you lose control. he loves the scratches you leave on him; it's proof that he's yours just as much as you are his.

౨ৎ ATSUMU MIYA

haters are saying: that you're just using atsumu for content. you're a gold digger. you're not genuine. you're not "wifey material." spectators are claiming that atsumu is playing worse than before because he's too "pussywhipped" for you. well, he likes to cheekily admit to you that he is addicted to your pussy, but they're wrong about everything else. obviously. however, the haters are feeling very vindicated whenever they see atsumu hasn't been posting you as much. (you're traveling for a new vlog series on your page, but no one knows.)

he posted: a mirror selfie. which isn't breaking news. atsumu miya always breaks the internet when he posts a mirror selfie because the only thing worse than a hot guy is a hot guy who knows he's hot. no one is a stranger to the sight of a post-workout, sweaty, shirtless atsumu, who flaunts his tight abs and muscular thighs with a steamy mirror selfie. but this photo? this one is going triple platinum. it's going down in history. this selfie is taken in dim lighting; the curtains in the background are drawn shut, he's got one hand gripping his phone (making the phone look tiny in his big hand), and he's got one arm wrapped around you. it's not an innocent hug, though. he's cupping your ass, and the phone in front of his face does nothing to shield his satisfied smirk. you're clad in nothing but lacy lingerie from a designer who loves to sponsor you, and you're clinging to his side, almost like you can't even stand without his support. it's clear that the two of you definitely were... appreciating the work your favorite designer put in when they created that lacy set.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

"what do you think?" you're smiling at him, knowing damn well what he's thinking.

atsumu looks up at you, reflexively licking his lips as he takes in the sight of you wearing a new set of lingerie that you just got delivered. it leaves little room for imagination, and the material looks so delicate, atsumu is already thinking about how he'll have to apologize to the designer for ripping it off of you.

"i think I'm the luckiest man alive right now." atsumu is shameless in the way he's admiring you, the way the setting sun still peeks through the curtains, enveloping your body in a delicious golden glow as you inch closer and closer to him.

in a matter of seconds, he's pulling you on top of him, placing wet, sloppy kisses over any centimeter of your skin he can reach. when you make a move to slip off the panties, he protests.

"leave 'em on f'me, baby. please?"

he fucks you with you still wearing the lingerie set. your breasts are spilling out of the bra, and all he did was move your panties to the side so he could stretch you out with his cock.

"fuckin' idiots, tellin' me you're not good enough to marry. i'll show 'em what a good girl you are, right? gonna put a ring on your finger, and make you my wife." he's fucking his cock into you, making sure that your cute cunt knows who it belongs to. "gonna fuck a baby into you, sweetheart. no one's gonna say shit about our family, huh? 'cause i won't let 'em."

your cunt clenches up so nicely with every comment he makes that atsumu knows he has to make all those pussydrunk promises come true.

౨ৎ TETSUROU KUROO

the tabloids are posting: paparazzi photos of you — the socialite daughter of the man who owns the msby black jackals, and jva's promotion division's golden boy, tetsurou kuroo. it's late at night, and the two of you are clearly leaving a party celebrating the success of another eventful volleyball season. you're wearing the iconic ysl heels with a black mini-dress that honestly should be called a micro-dress. your hair is a mess, you're walking like your knees are struggling not to wobble, and walking three steps behind you despite his longer stride is kuroo; his tie is crooked, his cheeks are flushed, and he has a grin that says something like i just fucked one of the richest bratty heiresses in japan, and i left her wanting more. the amount of blind items that are allegedly alluding to you and kuroo are being spread all over tiktok. one reads, "this sports club heiress was seen exiting a party with this semi-known marketing mastermind who works in the sports industry. apparently, they couldn't keep their hands off each other, and no one can recall seeing them together during the party; everyone only caught glimpses of them running away from the festivities together."

you posted: a photo slideshow on instagram of your absolutely iconic outfit from the party, only these photos were clearly taken before the party. your hair is done, your makeup is perfect, and your caption states don't believe everything you read. the last slide is a screenshot of an online headline speculating about your "new man" with a photo of a grinning kuroo from that night. the reason why this makes everyone go insane is because you're no stranger to a scandal — this is, however, the first time you've ever addressed a headline.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

"hurry up," you hiss, your eyes darting from left to right as you make sure no one is nowhere near the secluded corridor kuroo somehow managed to find.

"y'know, i thought girls were supposed to like guys who don't blow their loads prematurely." even when he's bullying his cock into your slicked up cunt, savoring the way your sensitive walls are clenching around his dick, tetsurou has a very annoying habit of still sounding entirely in control. for someone who can't keep his hands to himself when it comes to you, he's irritatingly great at playing nonchalant.

but he's just a man, after all. he might tower over you, his large body shielding you from any prying eyes, and he might know your body so well that he can bring you to completion twice (once with his fingers curling against that special spot of yours, and another one so rudely wrung out from you when he slid his cock in your orgasm-recovering, overly sensitive pussy) in just the fifteen minutes he's been toying with you tonight, but you know that he must be feeling something. you saw him shift his pants the moment his eyes met yours from across the room, when his eyes travelled down your body and followed the way your dress emphasized the curvatures of your body.

"if you don't finish right now, i'm not going to let you cum inside." you threaten him, trying to steady your voice as you bite back a moan. it'd be a major issue if the two of you got caught, with the volleyball association's golden boy being buried balls-deep inside a sports team owner's bratty daughter.

with every sharp snap of his hips, kuroo is only forcing more slick to come gushing out of your pussy. he can't even take the time to admire the white ring you left around his cock; he's too focused on chasing after his release because he didn't get to where he's at by not being opportunistic.

"if i cum inside, you have to keep it in your panties the whole night. you wouldn't want that, would you?" he sounds a little breathless now, his pace quickening as his thrusts get sloppier. he's smiling at you, that damn annoying smile that makes you want to roll your eyes or insult him. but your body betrays you. his grin only widens when your pussy tightens up at the idea of having his cum soaking in your panties while you interact with people at this party. a dirty little secret shared only between you two.

he lets out a breathy chuckle at your body's betrayal. "okay, princess. since you want it so badly, i guess i better give it to you."

you could practically cum again the minute you feel the warmth of him finishing inside of you. you're a spoiled brat who gets what she wants, and while you refuse to admit it, you want him. all of him.

and he's going to give it to you.

౨ৎ WAKATOSHI USHIJIMA

the media is going crazy over: the fact that ushijima is the type of person who doesn't clarify anything because he just assumes that everyone can read his mind. he's blunt, sure, but he's not really the type who does much explaining. after the first game of the season, an interviewer asks him if he enjoyed spending the off-season with you, his girlfriend and one of the most beloved, fan-favorite WAGs of all time. ushijima stares straight into the camera as he states in his usual deep, flat rumble of a voice, "the off-season was successful, but she isn't my girlfriend anymore. thank you." and then he just walks off, like he didn't just drop the most insane piece of information ever?

he posted: a photo of an ultrasound that was clearly taken out of his wallet since it's thrown on the table in the background. he's holding it in his left hand, and the overhead lighting is reflected from the silver wedding band he's wearing. now that he's off the court, he's able to wear it. in typical ushijima fashion, there is no caption, but a picture is worth a thousand words. you're not his girlfriend. you're his wife, and soon to be mother of his child.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

"mmph — 'toshi!" you squeal out, your calves burning from the stretch as your beloved wakatoshi has your legs bent and spread for him. he's just so big that you'd never be able to handle all of him, and yet, here you are, bent into a mating press every night since the two of you have gotten married. you try to beg him to slow down, but words escape you as he buries himself into your pussy, letting out a deep, guttural groan as the warmth of your cunt coats his cock. there's no better feeling than this.

even if you could request for him to slow down, it wouldn't have mattered or made much of a difference. your husband has a one-track mind. when wakatoshi is set on a goal, it's hard to break his focus until he sees it to the end. and right now, wakatoshi's goal is to fuck a baby into you, to see you round with life because of the seeds he planted.

he's hunched over you, abs tightening and flexing with every sharp inhale of breath he takes. he's gonna fuck himself empty, going to keep filling your cunt with his seed 'til he's shooting blanks. his eyes glance at the ring he put on your finger before returning to admire your blissful expression and the way your body seems to have gone boneless from all the fucking he's had you endure.

"just a little bit longer." he manages to say, before forcing his cock in even deeper. "just have to make sure it takes."

౨ৎ TOORU OIKAWA

everyone is claiming: long distance relationships never last. when oikawa makes the shocking announcement that he is no longer a japanese citizen, everyone immediately wondered what that meant for the future of your relationship. does that mean it's over? officially? if oikawa is leaving behind his hometown, then by default, is he leaving you behind too?

he posted: a photo slideshow, only most of the images were clearly taken by you. the first one is of him driving; the two of you are in his convertible, and he's wearing a white button down with most of the buttons undone. on the stark white of the shirt are kiss marks; the imprint of your lips lined with cherry-red lipstick are all over the material of his shirt and on his freshly-tanned skin. the other photos are of what you two ate for dinner, the sunset from the beach, and a selfie of you two looking more in love than ever. fans are quick to point out the massive hickey on your neck, and tooru tags you in a reply to the top comment that points it out, and he's saying "you missed a spot babe." you reply back, "i ran out of concealer because you gave me too many to cover"

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

"i missed you," your boyfriend mumbles into your soft skin. tooru can get so clingy when he goes long periods without seeing you, and you indulge him because he's tooru. he's got his face buried in the space between your shoulder and neck, and his breath is warm against your skin as he speaks.

"everyone is saying i'm abandoning you, but that's not true." he whines.

"i know, baby. i don't care." you laugh softly, absentmindedly playing with the soft strands of his hair. he settles into you, and it's almost sweet, until he starts nipping at your skin.

"tooru, what are you doing?" you can't find it in yourself to chastise him too harshly, but you do have to restrain yourself from pulling back.

"jus' want to show everyone that you're still my girl." he peers up at you, licking his lips. "you'll let me do that, won't you?"

tooru bites and sucks at your skin, sharp canines grazing your soft flesh. he sucks at your most sensitive areas while he works his fingers in and out of your gushing cunt. when he pulls his fingers out and holds them up, so the sunlight can shine and really highlight how much of your juices is coating his digits, he smiles. his girl gets this wet just from him marking you up?

as he sucks on his fingers, relishing in the way you taste, he can't help but be happy to know that no matter how far away the two of you are from each other (for now), you're still his girl.

౨ৎ RINTAROU SUNA

your fans are telling you: suna doesn't care about you. suna doesn't put forth any effort into your relationship. suna literally streams on twitch during the off-season yet he can't seem to ever post you?? suna doesn't deserve you. suna—

suna is a lot of things, but nothing like the deadbeat, ashamed boyfriend allegations. in fact, all your well-meaning fans are so far off on how he treats you that you and him get a good laugh from the outrageous conclusions they've jumped to.

you posted: a photo of rintarou with his head on your lap, and you've got your fingers playing with his hair. it's a sweet photo, really. except for the fact that you decided to pair it with an audio that's a snippet of a song that goes "he's so pretty when he goes down on me" and a caption that reads this song is so relatable 🤍

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

anyone who thinks rintarou is a selfish lover, a lazy lover, someone who merely tolerates you or is ashamed to be with you... they clearly don't know either of you very well.

because even when he's exhausted from practice, rintarou comes home craving you. craving your sweetness, your warmth, your love — and your pussy. he's obsessed. rintarou suna loves to eat you out, and he does it with such passion, such enthusiasm, that it's hard to refuse him, even if he's been going at it for the past hour.

your juices are leaving a stain on the bedsheets, and your slick is coating your inner thighs. it doesn't help that rintarou is messy with his technique. he needs your legs spread for him, granting him easy access for him to just dig in. he's still in his practice jersey, and when he feels your grip loosening from the strands of hair you're tugging at, he'll slow down his pace, calming down to just tiny kitten licks while he peers up at you.

your head is thrown back in pleasure, and your hips have a mind of their own as they still jut forward, as if trying to bring your cunt impossibly closer to him. no need for that, really, seeing as how he craves to bury himself in your warmth, to suck on your cute little clit and have you humming all over his tongue.

"rinnie." you whine out, still subconsciously bucking up your hips. he smiles before resuming his original ministrations, gluttonous and greedy with how sloppy and hungry he is with you. if you're still capable of talking, then you're not too fucked out to not allow him to get his fill.

[bnanamlkluvr]

“ red rouge “ — sakusa kiyoomi

✿ cw. MDNI, f!reader, timeskip!kiyoomi, highly suggestive, kiyoomi calls you princess

kiyoomi’s favourite colour on you is red. it doesn’t matter what it is — a dress, shoes, bag, you name it. he’s especially loves it when you wear your go-to red lip.

you never have to worry about running out of it, he just sees it in the store and snags it for you when he knows it's about time, catching your offhanded comments about how there's barely anything left in the lipstick bullet.

you think he looks so pretty with it on too, smudged all over his mouth after a heated makeout session in the car after clinching the last point in a crucial match.

he can't bring himself to care about the courtesy congratulations, only yours. they come in the form of whispers and breathless pants in between kisses as you grind down on his lap, the only sounds ringing through your ears being the smacking of lips and moans of pleasure from the both of you, drowning out the low hum of the car.

his hair's disheveled from your fingers tugging on his curls, the bottom half of his face smeared red with the shape of your lips — a stark difference between the put-together kiyoomi from two hours ago and your messy boyfriend sitting under you in the driver's seat.

his hands sneak under your jersey marked by his number, his grip on your hips almost bruising as he guides you along, creating a delicious friction between your clothed bodies, "you just couldn't wait until we got home huh, princess?"

✿ notes. i know i'm not supposed to be working on anything until after this weekend but this thought just wormed it's way into my head and i couldn't help myself :") (dividers: @/cafekitsune) — reblogs & interactions are always appreciated !

© yogurtkags. please do not repost, plagiarise, or translate my work.

[bnanamlkluvr]

❝ BOOTHILL AND TITS ?! ❞ — boothill x fem!reader. cw. nsfw. titfucking + boothill’s love 4 tits mayhaps | quick thirst for my king boothill cuz he’s coming in 9-10 days (in me)+ ngl guys i’m not even sure if he even HAS anything down there… whatever!! jus let a girl dream 🎀

BOOTHILL and tits HAS 2 be a part of the raising canes secret menu items because.. honestly you didn’t even know he was into tits like that! boothill seeks warmth n comfort from you, it’s not hard 2 guess that he’s quite physically affectionate.. especially when your breasts are involved. you should expect some days where he would be laying against you, twisting and tugging at your nipples.. gently biting down on your flesh. careful though, his teeth can be painful (it is.)

BOOTHILL was most definitely fascinated by your tits! he’d never seen anything as perfect as those lil’ globs on your chest!! (lol) he loved them to the moon and back! “pretty fudgin’ breasts ya got here, baby. always wanted to fudge em, ‘s like they’re always talkin to me, y’know? always begging for me to touch em.” you giggled at his words, knowing he couldn’t swear. “you sound funny.” you murmured against his hair, inhaling his scent. “yeah? this ain’t ‘gonna be funny in a few seconds.” the coldness of his metal hands coming in contact with your skin made your breath hitch, catching you off guard. a pout was visible on your lips as he caressed the soft surface of your breasts, squeezing gently. "easy there, pretty thing," boothill whispered, pulling away slightly.. he knew he had to tread carefully. “ready, sweet-baby? ‘gonna start fudgin’ these pretty things till i come all over ‘em, kay? ‘s gonna feel good, promise.”

BOOTHILL bit his lip, keeping his gaze on his cock sliding between your pretty tits so smoothly, stressing the pace of his thrusts.. losing himself in your tits. “fudgin’ hell.. you’re so hot y’know that? does my dick feel good, darlin’?” you nodded eagerly, gripping the sheets beneath your body. holding your tits firmly against him allowed him to savour your warmth, the warmth of your breasts. he watched in pure awe, chasing his orgasm as he felt it come even closer, “darlin’.. ‘m gonna cum—“ a smirk crept up his lips before he muttered a small “open.” obeying his words, you eagerly opened your mouth, awaiting his release, catching sight of him stroking himself a few times before releasing on your face, “heavens above . . you’re so damn sexy,” he cupped your cheek, “how about i cum inside this pussy next,” he flicked your bud, eliciting a gasp from you. “not a bad idea ain’t it, baby?“

“whaddya’ say? ‘gonna let me pound this pussy?”