kiyoors

[kiyoors]

You wish you had a good story as to why you started dating Kaminari.

But it started one night at a bar, a long while after you two had become friends. it was just the two of you, huddled at a table, watching the crowd as your other friends swapped spit.

"Damn," Denki sighs pitifully. "Bakugo's really sucking on his tongue. They're practically fucking on the dance floor."

"I can't watch anymore." You cover your eyes. "It's painful."

The song switches to something slow and low and vaguely country. Kaminari heaves out another breath as he rests on his elbows.

"Hey," he says randomly, voice suddenly brighter. "Do you think we could ever fuck?"

"Depends," you say without missing a beat. Denki's cute and all, but you aren't interested unless he had something to... provide. "How big is your dick?"

"Ten inches."

You shoot him a look.

"No, really." Kaminari wiggles to get to his back pocket. "Wanna see a picture?"

He's got it pulled up before you can answer. Fuck. Yeah. It's certainly ten inches, unless that ruler he's got it next to is fake. It's pretty thick too, with a little hook downwards and a blush pink tip.

"Hm," you inspect the picture some more, trying to stay coy and detached. "Yeah. Sure, why not?"

"Fuck yeah!" He pumps his fist. "Daddy's getting laid tonight!"

"Not if you keep acting like that."

[kiyoors]

you know that thing at weddings where they take off that strip of lace from around your thigh with their teeth. yeah oliver fully laps at your clothed cunt just once whilst he’s down there and under your dress before he pulls the lace down

[kiyoors]

hq life draw from zeet studio sketch... all the poses were so good i wanted to draw them properly

[kiyoors]

˚₊·͟͟͞͞➳❥ +18 ; dilf!iwaizumi ; gn!reader

iwaizumi hajime (43) athletic trainer with his salt-and-pepper hair and tiny wrinkles around his eyes who swears he's not into his new assistant, that he's just being a good mentor and nothing more, really. his calloused hand just happens to find the small of your back anytime you show him your notes on the clipboard, an occasional "thanks, sweetheart" slipping from his lips when you bring him a coffee in the morning (you memorized his order, on his turns he just gets you whatever is the sweetest thing on the menu), his protective–protective, not possessive, he tells himself–instincts flaring up when someone on the team gets a little too friendly with you.

he didn't mean to pocket your panties. you just happened to forget them in the shower when you crashed at his place, a little drunk and a little heartbroken, "i didn't know where else to go" sniffled against his broad chest. for a brief moment iwaizumi thought about decking whoever dared to break your heart. he lets you have the bed, letting you sleep off whatever liquor and heartache you poured inside your body while he takes the couch, his fist curled around the lace of your abandoned panties and his leaking cock while he tries not to go insane over your scent lingering in every corner of his place. a losing game.

it was the early morning hours when he heard your bare feet shuffle over from the bedroom. he has it all memorized; the way the couch dipped slightly when you crawled all over him and how you whispered his name, knowing he was awake. you straddling his lap, the gasp that fell from your lips when he slotted one thigh between yours, letting you use him to grind out whatever feeling had your heart in a chokehold. he came in his pants twice while you whined and whimpered against the shell of his ear, frustrated over the neverending throbbing between your thighs, and it's only when you sucked his fingers in your mouth that he had mercy on you, flipping and bending you over until you took all of him, until your holes were sore and dripping from him, until he carved himself into your being.

you don't get your panties back, but it's okay; iwaizumi leaves you with a bite mark on your inner thigh and the promise that he'll buy you new ones if you manage to keep his cum inside without dripping while you two go out to grab some coffee.

[kiyoors]

Best friend!Gojo proposed to you at precisely age six and held up the honor of your marriage all throughout. He was loyal, devoted, celebrated your anniversaries without you realizing the pattern. 

Even a good couple decades later when you two are finally together and settled when he tells you this- you’d be like “Satoru, what do you mean you always acted married to me- I dated other people in high school??” 

Only for your boyfriend (longtime husband?) to answer serenely, “I merely forgave you for you infidelity, my wife.”

[kiyoors]

I think. I think Tobio is a good father/partner because the second you're like 'I am overwhelmed" he is getting that baby's shoes on and letting you relax for a couple hours by yourself

[kiyoors]

soulmates but it's a curse where his dick will only work for his one true love

[kiyoors]

iwaoi sketches

[kiyoors]

Satoru and his new friend

[kiyoors]

thinking about how shouto is so gentle and patient all of the time that it sometimes comes as a shock to you how truly powerful he is. like he'll draw his arm tight around you as you try to leave bed, sleepy and warm and clinging. and though he's just trying to cuddle into your back, it dawns on you that even when he's half-asleep and you are actually trying with all your might, you can't get his arm to budge even a fraction of an inch...

[kiyoors]

you let out a soft, satisfied sigh, and finally roll off of enjin, your legs, jellied from exertion (even if he was admittedly controlling the pace just as much as you were), scooping below disorganized bedsheets for comfort.

enjin smiles to himself, a spread of his lips just as soft as your sigh, and helps the rest of the blanket over your naked body.

“so you’re done using me?” he jokes, a taunt that’s followed by a contradictorily doting peck on the exposed skin of your shoulder. you’re turned away from him, a position he won’t admit he hates the most from you except in jest, but today there is small comfort in the fact that he already knows you plan to stay the night.

there’s nowhere else for you to turn in at this time of night, the trek back to your own humble abode far too treacherous. of course, you just have to settle for him and the warmth of his bed and what he can offer you with his body.

he’d offer you his heart too, if you would believe him when you say it’s yours to keep.

“you can hardly call this using with your track record,” you murmur, a gentle shiver running down your spine with the trail of his finger tips along the dip of your spine. salty sweet sweat on his tongue as he kisses your neck again, but stops himself there, instead limiting himself to pressing himself close to you, an arm wrapped around your hip.

he scoffs.

“are you trying to call me a whore again? you can be more direct than that.”

you reach back behind you, somehow intimating his body despite not seeing it and pulling gently on his ear.

“are you denying it?”

he says nothing, but the fingers of his closed fist splay open, cupping your belly softly.

“i don’t think anything i say now will change your opinion, will it?”

you pull his fingers off of you carefully enough not to bruise his ego, holding them in your hand for a moment, before moving them upwards to rest on your right breast.

“how many since the last time?” you ask.

“no one.”

your hand presses firmer on top of his until he squeezes, coupled with a light graze of the teeth against your nape. you pay attention to his exhale, the pace of his heartbeat against your back.

he’s not lying. something low in your belly quickens, a different sensation than strokes of his cock inside you.

“i wouldn’t care either way. we use each other.” you remind him, albeit in a quieter voice.

his voice, lower, raspier, and somehow deafening against your skin.

“never once on my end.”

more of a simple truth.

[kiyoors]

oliver wakes you up by dragging slow, hot kisses across your lower back when you’re sleeping on your stomach.

[kiyoors]

to choose or not to choose

isagi yoichi x reader

isagi loves that you chose him over rin.

— small little drabble! started season two yesterday :)) boyfriend isagi is sooooo annoying. aged up and all.

“you know how you invited me to the team dinner next week?”

you choose each word carefully muffled in your boyfriend of fifteen days armpit. isagi yoichi has you wrapped in bed with him, grey bed sheets somewhere around both your waists and his slender arm curved around your back to keep you locked against him.

there’s a layer of sweat along your lover’s forehead, not from the intensity of the sex (his stamina is insane, luckily for you) but from the orgasm he gets whenever you’re around. you don’t run laps across a pitch daily so you’re much sleepier against him, your finger dragging across the dip of his abs.

“yeah? you’re still coming right. nobody believes i’ve got a girlfriend,” he laughs, but one thing about isagi is that his ego is too big to truly take offence to his teammates jokes. he comes home to you in his bed, he knows it’s true.

“of course i am but there’s something i didn’t tell you.”

royal blues glance down at you with furrowed brows as he gives your ass two pats.

“hmm?” he’s got no clue what you’re about to say.

“when i tell you i want no reaction.” you lock eyes with him, wagging a finger in his face, “no gloating.”

this makes isagi smile, just a little. excitement bubbles up within him at the idea of something he’s got that’s better than somebody else.

“i won’t! what? tell me, baby.” he leans on his side to face you properly, all of his attention on you.

you would have much preferred to say this tucked in his side but fine.

you let out a big sigh, “a few months before i met you, itoshi asked for my number and asked me on a date.”

your boyfriends eyes widen to the shape of saucers. his soothing hand on your hip freezing. “WHAT? which itoshi?”

“rin—,”

“itoshi rin asked for your number?”

“yes but it was before i knew you. you know my colleague is his publicist so i’ve met him a few times.”

you can see the puzzle pieces linking behind isagi’s eyes, “okay… and what did you say?”

now here comes the gloating, “i rejected him. i wasn’t interested.”

isagi bursts into laughter, laying onto his back to close his eyes and chuckle up into the ceiling. you groan. their stupid egotistic friendly enemy but on the same team beef is truly none of your business and definitely not what you want to get involved with. isagi is loving it though.

“you were the girl he had a crush on? he gave you flowers once didn’t he? these pink roses?”

“how do you know about that?”

isagi wipes his eye. the fucker laughed to tears, “we had a late meeting and i saw them at the back of his car when he was getting in. i asked him about it and he told me to fuck off. also i saw him googling and i quote ‘best flowers to give a girl.’ loser.”

you shove isagi’s side with your elbow causing him to give a little yelp, “stop laughing at him, it was cute.”

“yeah? it didn’t work though if you’re in bed with me and not him.” an annoyingly beautiful grin floods his cheeks, “you chose me and not that ugly idiot. you’re mine.”

you sit up abruptly, “that’s why i didn’t want to tell you! i’m not involved in your little rivalry and i’m not yours. possessiveness isn’t cute on you, yoichi.”

his grin doesn’t let up though and your annoyance doesn’t sway him. a dark bed head strand flop into his eyes. “you’re mine like i’m yours. that’s just fact.”

“for now.”

“forever.” and he tugs your arm so your bare chest falls onto his. you let him because despite being the most annoying man in the world, he’s a little cute. you groan but still wrap your arms around him in a cuddle.

“so why didn’t you give him a chance? i hear some girls call him pretty.”

“you are so irritating.” you state but isagi plays dumb.

“i’m just asking… tell me.” another goofy smile on your lovers face.

“i’m not dating a guy when i prefer his teammate,” you purse your lips as isagi rumbles under you in pure glee. the only man you know who truly gets off on his friends pain.

“fuck football. you really know the way to my ego, baby.”

you wave your hand over him in faux disgust, “this isn’t attractive, you know.”

“you think i’m more attractive than rin, though. you didn’t choose him because you wanted me. i’m gonna rub this shit in his face at the dinner.”

“no, you’re not. i swear if you mention it, i’ll be so mad at you. he did nothing wrong, he doesn’t deserve to be embarrassed.”

“he does, he tripped me in practice this morning.”

“yoichi.”

“but baby,” he whines and you tap his cheek lightly.

“no!”

now on the dinner, isagi doesn’t mention it to rin. he does however, wrap his arm around your waist and give you one of those hollywood movie kisses just when rin is about to turn around towards you both.

your fault for being swept up in your boyfriend because you’re flustered standing in front of your old admirer once isagi pulls away.

“oh sorry, she’s just so beautiful. this is my girlfriend, yn, i don’t think you’ve met?”

isagi’s shit eating grin is so easy for rin to read, his eyes wide as they jump to you to his teammate.

“you’re a fucking dick.” he spits at isagi and then much softer to you, “hi yn. can’t believe you like him.”

[kiyoors]

cum in her in 3.14 seconds, call that a cream π 

[kiyoors]

based on this post. mdni.

you’re mid-conversation with a friend when nagi slinks up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

initially, you lean into the warmth of his broad body, continuing to chat. but you’re derailed as soon as he nibbles your earlobe, then trails kisses down the arch of your neck. squeaking out an “excuse me” to your friend, you swat at your boyfriend’s head. he merely buries his face in your shoulder.

“let’s go home—this party is such a drag,” nagi yawns.

“it would be rude to leave this early, seishiro.”

“i don’t care. i’d rather be fucking you anyway.”

frantically, you glance around around to see if anyone heard his brazen words.

“seishiro,” you hiss, “people can hear you!”

he snorts, then drawls, “if you don’t hurry, you’ll leave me no choice but to make a scene.”

you gasp. “have you lost your mind?”

instead of answering, nagi leads you to the couch and pulls you onto his lap, massive palms gripping your hips, grinding you down so you feel what he means. his mouth resumes its assault on your neck. you’re keenly aware that if you don’t make a move soon, he will have his way with you in front of all the partygoers.

only the host gets a rushed goodbye; nagi uses your body as a shield to hide the very obvious tent in his pants as you make your escape. and you think you’ve dodged a bullet—until you get to his car.

instead of opening the front passenger door for you, he opens the back door and crowds you until you tumble ass-first onto the seat. his agility always startles you; one blink and the door’s closed as he’s looming above you, a sharp glint in his usually placid gaze.

“that was close,” he murmurs, long fingers teasing the neckline of your shirt.

“seishiro,” you warn, shooting him a withering glare. “you cannot be serious.”

a knee shifts upward, slotting snugly between your thighs.

“i’ve never been more serious in my life.”

as though to punctuate his statement, he drops his hips until they’re flush with your own, pinning you in place, his clothed cock straining against your belly. you stifle a moan.

“w-we can’t, sei. what if someone sees us? we’re on a residential street, for fuck’s sake.”

nonplussed, nagi nips at your jawline, then presses a slow, sloppy kiss to your lips. he pulls back with a hum, drinking in your lust-blown stare.

“be good for me,” he breathes. his touch slides down to unbutton your jeans. a ghost of a smirk tugs at his lips as he continues, “or would you rather go back inside and put on a show?”

[kiyoors]

Osamu "jacks off to girls in sweatpants and comfy tees" vs atsumu "gets hard thinking about you in a tight dress and heels"

[kiyoors]

atsumu literally sees you in a little black dress and forgets how to behave