#Chubby thumb

[holeforzenin]

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ GRIMY OLD MAN TOJI<3

Tw- honestly don’t read this unless you’re weird af. Toji’s a PERV. Somno, daddy kink, light anal play, squirting, not proofread one bit.

Grimy old man Toji! who’s cock immediately starts twitching in his pants with sheer excitement when you disclosed to him that you’re still a virgin and wasn't very experienced in the sex department on your first date.

As the words left your mouth, Toji's weathered face lit up with a lecherous grin. His jaded eyes narrowed, revealing hunger as it slowly roamed over the smooth valley of your exposed tits. he already knows he’s going to have so much fun with you. "Well, ain't that a treat" he rasped, his voice gravelly and filled with intent. "Don't worry doll, I'll take good care of ya, I can even teach you a thing or two".

Grimy old man Toji! who’s sickly infatuated with the relatively noticeable size difference between the two of you. The way your big, beautiful eyes peer up at him while his massive frame is towering over your smaller figure— a lustful glint floating in your eyes as you stared up at the older man, fully paying attention to the words coming out his mouth like a good girl while he spoke to you.

You look so cute and innocent, he’d be lying if he says he can’t make out the dark red hearts gleaming in your eyes. it makes him want to slap his leaky cock across your face and watch as his pearlescent pre-cum drips and moistens your soft skin.

Grimy old man Toji! who loves rubbing your sticky pussy while you’re peacefully sleeping next to him at night— he lowly chuckles to himself when he hears the adorable, involuntary whimpers that escape your rosy lips as your face scrunches into unbidden pleasure from his touch. He fucking loves how sensitive and delicate you are. His gnarled fingers, rough from years of labor, glided smoothly over your soft thighs to softly pinch your messy folds.

Your pink, dainty panties are slightly pulled down to your upper thigh, allowing him to gain more access to your sex as his lengthy fingers trace teasing circles on your sensitive clit— being so careful he doesn’t wake you up or he’d just might have to fuck you back to sleep and he wouldn’t want to ruin his poor girl’s sleeping schedule. His breath heavy with anticipation fogged the air as he leaned closer, his piercing eyes fixated on the moistening bud between your legs. So pretty.

Grimy old man Toji! who shamelessly stares at your round ass any graceful chance he gets— As soon as you get up to go somewhere or grab anything, his eyes quickly leaves the television and zero in on the subtle sway of your ass like a damn vulture. watching how the chubby flesh bounces as you walk away. His wet tongue immediately dragging over his lips and licking his faded scar, hungrily.

His perverted cock instantly stifled at the alluring sight as he imagines his rough hands forcefully gripping your hips still and rubbing his aching dick between your supple cheeks and watches as it disappears between them.

Grimy old man Toji! who has a interesting habit of stuffing his face into your sloppy pussy while you’re lying on your stomach, engrossed in a book. His face is buried between your butt, his nose digging between your creamy folds as he desperately stiffs your drooling cunt like some gross pervert. Both of his hands are caressing the curves of your ass— spreading it apart even more so he can smell better.

When he’s done with your pussy, he quickly shifts his focus to your small puckering hole. Toji’s a fair man so it would be both disrespectful and unfortunate to leave any of his girl’s pretty holes neglected. Especially with how preciously the little hole was winking up at him while he was teasing your pussy— clearly longing for some attention as well.

When his grizzled fingers found their way to your tight, untouched entrance, he couldn't help but cooed at the way the hole clenched at his touch. With taunting slowness, he circled the rim, teasing it with the pad of his thumb, making it flutter and yearn for more. A loud husky laugh escapes his lips when he spots how much your cunt is gushing out more juices from his lewd action. "You're a dirty slut baby, did me playing with your little ass get you this wet?" he chuckles, licking his lips. “Yer so filthy for enjoying this”.

Grimy old man Toji! with his strong, sturdied hands and teasing smirk has a “peculiar” way of showing affection— he loves lifting you onto his lap, making sure to place you down directly on his hard, veiny erection so your warm pussy is nestled right on top of the clothed bulge. His angry tip nudges between your slicked folds, parting them and making you feel as if you were sitting on a hard bump.

His calloused hands are firmly gripping your waist, holding you down so you don’t try to get off of him. Soon enough it'll get way too hard to ignore it when he starts grinding your clothed core on the huge, tented bulge for friction.

Grimy old man Toji! who convinces you to wear a jeweled plug while the two of you were invited to his clan’s meeting. He’s sitting in the chair next to you with a sprawling manspread to cover up the traces of his aroused cock, his hand shamelessly buried under your kimono. Long, skilled fingers swiftly toyed with the pink-heart indent of the plug that’s warmly nestled in your asshole. He loves tugging on it harshly when you're least expecting, your soft, adorable mewls only fueling him and sending more blood rushing to his length.

He wiggles the plug inside of you, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips as he watches your feeble attempts to hide your sinful expressions. The coolness of the metal grazes against the tight walls of your core with each deliberate motion he makes. Who knows maybe he’ll make some fuck ass excuse to go to the bathroom and replace the plug with his fat cock, filling up the cute little gape.

Grimy old man Toji! who's soo obsessed with making your frothy cunny squirt all over his cock while he’s mindlessly drilling your stupid brains out in full Nelson — yes, of course he knew he always does an amazing job at pounding you into a mindless little slut everytime he dicks you down but having you make a filthy mess with your pussy straying out liquid like a water fountain all over his balls and thighs— soaking his whole mattress was the sweet cherry on top.

He lets out a deep, sultry snicker when he hears how disgustingly sopping your little pussy is for him as he’s cramming his entire length into the tight space— his sharp mushroom tip repeatedly bopping against your musty g-spot with every fast thrust of his hips into of you. Every prominent vein on his rigid length glides along your inner walls, eliciting a sensation so intense that your entire body quivers and your toes curl inside of your patterned socks.

His fingers are deeply ensnared in the soft flesh of your thighs, his grip possessive as he restrained them against the rhythmic movements of your bouncing breasts while he thrust into you with the unrelenting force of a madman from underneath. His larger frame effortlessly carried your weight, making your mind hazy from Toji‘s unbelievably powerful strength. The furrow of your brow and the tears welling in your eyes were like a literal testament to the overwhelming sensation of how hard and mercilessly he was invading your tender pussy. He truly has no pity.

But no matter what, your pussy couldn’t stop leaking all over the poor man’s cock. A rich, creamy mess coated every inch of his pulsating shaft as his muscular thighs trembled. The loud, nasty squelching echoed loudly, making your face red— knowing exactly what was to come.

“Come on girl, squirt on my fucking cock. I know you can do it” he urged with a loud groan at the tight squeeze of your compressed walls around him from his orders. He knows exactly how much you enjoy it when he tells you what to do and luckily for you, he sooo happens to be bossy as well. “Make a mess for Daddy, come onn you can do it baby”.

He plants a gentle kiss on your shoulder blade before anchoring his heels stiffly against the mattress. With a precise movement, he lifted you slightly, adjusting the angle to hit your sweet spot even better. Your back arches against his abs instinctively, pressing your chest forward. “S’close daddy, m’so close!” You cried out, your pulsating hole fluttering around his shaft uncontrollably, desperate to drain his heavy-filled balls.

"That’s it, you’re so fucking wet f’me. Leaking like a nasty fucking slut” he growled in a tone filled with desire, causing his voice to sound hoarse. “Let it go, need ya to squirt like a fucking fountain all over me, ya hear me?”

His cock was throbbing like crazy, veins bulging, the head swollen with blood. Your moans turn into desperate pleas as you clawed at his beefy forearm.

His thrusts are so deep and unforgiving. You can feel the tip pounding against your cervix as he ravages your poor little cunt like a feral beast. Toji never holds back when he fucks you— the thing is he fucking can’t. Not when your pussy is this warm and heavenly, it makes him lose his mind and control the literal second his swollen tip breaches into your slicked entrance.

Your breathing quickly turns into puffs of air, tongue lolling out from your gaping mouth. “Oh fuckkk—“.

You were seeing white at this point. The pressure quickly tightened in your stomach, feeling a million more times intense than it normally felt. Your body jolts on top of his from the foreign sensation, so overwhelmed that you didn’t notice the muscular hand that snaked its way to your clit, frantically rubbing the pulsating bud as your whole body tenses, and your vision blurs white. You cry into the late night as the wash of pleasure crashes throughout your being; it has a rush you’ve never felt before but it leaves you utterly gratified. 

“D-daddy m’gonna– Ohh!” you whine and babble, your clouded mind makes it so hard to form any complete and coherent sentences anymore from the intense pleasure.

“Fuckfuckfuck that’s it, thatsss it”. He grunted, biting his bottom lip enough to make it bleed as his cock twitches at the sight of you squirting in front of him, the translucent liquid spurting all over the place and coating his thick shaft and body as your pussy fluttered around him over and over.

“Atta girl, Atttaa girl. God, this pussy is so fucking slutty, was made just f'me, wasn't she baby?" he purrs into your ear, praising you and attempting to calm you down while he helps you ride out your high. His relentless hips never stop rutting inside of you, trying to savor the mess as much as possible. It was so overstimulating, your whole head goes blurry from everything. His long fingers still abusing your clit, making your whole body shake on top of his.

“Toji— fuck! s’much stopstop fuck!” You cried out, your sharp nails violently sinking into his beefy forearm of the fingers that are assaulting your sensitive clit— definitely leaving more nasty scars.

“Shh shh baby, don’t be a greedy girl. Daddy has to cum too”.

[tintitw]

butcher!simon that acts like a sweetheart in front of you in the shop, always offering you the best meat he has for a good price and tells you how to cook it just to make you stay a little bit longer

butcher!simon who could cry from happiness when you brought him the meal you cooked from meat he sold you. The man was so proud that he literally thinks you're his.

butcher!simon that finally asks you on a date, "Do ye wanna have a dinner after closin' ma shop?", looking like a wet little pup. After your cheerful smile and nod you left the shop. "Fucking hell" he ran his hand through his hair.

butcher!simon standing outside his shop with a bouquet of flowers, all fresh and well-dressed, waiting for you, his date, already imagining pumping you full of his seed, giving you his chubby baby

butcher!simon that cooked you the best dinner you have ever had, telling you his favourite dad jokes, that were previously tested on Johnny, rubbing your knee with his thumb already.

Part 4 is out!!

[moechies]

toji loves a cute girl that weeps when he doesn’t cum inside.

he almost does, he really wants to, but he can’t take the chance of having to raise a brat like he almost did once before.

he’s an old man, and he’s got his piorities; plus, he likely wouldn’t even be alive to see his child’s 2nd birthday.

but when he’s fucking that pretty pussy, all rationality slips away. all he can think about is your soft gummy walls warped around his thick shaft, and all you can think about is how well he’s pummeling your chubby cunt.

you chant of pleads, try to the best of your abilities to convince him to nut inside because, ‘i-i’m on birth control !’ or ‘can just t-take plan b, daddy,’ but he knows of your little lying tactics. plus; his cum is so potent that the contraceptives likely wouldn’t even take!

he coos, convinces you that he’s really gonna do it, really going to release his potent nut into your pussy, but at the last moment he pulls out, spurts of creamy white painting your swollen folds and your bite-ridden tummy. he’s toji fushiguro, his pull out game is undeniably amazing. he really had you convinced. :(

“n-no…” you whimper, legs shivering as you feel his warm load trickle down your slit and dirtying the sheets below. “‘s not fair !”

“not fair ?” he chuckles, bringing his overstimulated tip to your cunny, dragging his nut throughly. he pushes inside lightly, making you squeal.

“y’p-promised.” you mutter, tears brimming your eyes, but unable to take them off the lewd sight before you. you wince when he pulls out once again, tapping his wet cock head against your clit.

“i didn’t promise ya shit, doll. y’makin’ things up in that dumb little head of yours again ?” he teases, taking your stiff nipple in his mouth. “hmm ?” he hums, making you shiver.

“please, please—“ it’s torture at this point, and toji should feel so guilty for making his sweet girl cry. you think, if he really loved you he would do it, he would brand you and really make you his :(

“shh, ‘s alright.” he comes up, kissing fallen tears off of your blushed cheeks, and rubbing a calloused thumb over your pouty lips. “next time, hm ?” he blantly lies. “n-no, need it now, please !”

“you’re a real brat, hm ? not used to not gettin’ what ya want?”

he laughs when you shake your head quickly, your little pout never once leaving your expression.

“don’t be so angry. i’ll make ya mine soon enough, okay? dumb baby.”

[luvbabydoll]

proper fed — simon “ghost” riley

simon ghost riley x fem!chubby reader

warnings: tried to mimick his accent in the writing but i probably failed cause im extremely southern

when ghost comes home, he’s all worn-out muscle and quiet exhaustion, his broad frame leaning against the doorway as he watches you from beneath that ever-present balaclava. but the second he sees you—curled up in one of his old shirts, all soft and waiting for him—his shoulders ease just a little.

“missed you, love,” he mutters, voice thick and gruff as he strides over, pulling you into his arms like he’s been starvin’ for the feel of you. his hands, rough and calloused from too many fights, find your waist, squeezing just enough to make you shiver.

“you’ve lost weight again,” you scold, smoothing your hands over his chest, frowning at the way his body feels sharper, leaner.

“been busy, ain’t i?” he grumbles, but you’re already dragging him toward the couch, settling yourself in his lap as you grab the plate you made for him earlier. He doesn’t argue—not when you’re all warm and snug against him, not when he can feel the soft press of your thighs over his own.

the telly’s on, some football match playing, and he barely glances at it as you lift a forkful of food to his lips. “c’mon, si,” you murmur, tapping it lightly against his mask. “up.”

with a quiet sigh, he pulls it up just enough, letting you see the sharp cut of his jaw, the hint of stubble he never quite gets rid of. and when he takes that first bite, his eyes flutter shut for a brief second, a low groan rumbling in his chest.

“bloody hell, you tryna fatten me up, sweetheart?” he mutters, cockney drawl thicker now that he’s home, safe, warm.

you grin, feeding him another bite. “maybe. can’t have you wasting away, yeah?”

his arms tighten around you, one hand settling on your hip, thumb rubbing slow circles over the softness there. “gonna make me proper spoiled, you are.”

but he doesn’t complain—doesn’t stop you from feeding him, doesn’t stop himself from pressing his face into your neck between bites, inhaling deep, like he’s trying to memorize the way you smell. and when the match ends and he’s full, relaxed, his hands stay where they are, holding you close, keeping you exactly where you belong.

[cvnt4him]

izu w a cock too big for his own good.

You're his first girlfriend...EVER. which is surprising to you, he's attractive big n strong and so so so kind. He's the kind of guy girls dream about, a literal knight in shining armor. It made you feel sick that you couldn't help the lewd thoughts of what was inside the knights pants.

You would bring him food whenever you could and would see his thick bulge against his pants, that silly smile of his and those chubby freckled cheeks. He was so adorable and such a loser. God he truly deserves a cock that big.

You had him laid down on his back thighs wide open with you sitting in between them gently rubbing his cock covered by his boxers. He whimpered lowly staring up at you with those wide eyes of him, his face flushed with red while his pupils were blown wide. Izuku had never done anything quite like this before.....not with someone else at least.

He was a gooner 100% so he's definitely teased his cock through his boxers before you believe that for sure. You admired his face for a little before focusing on his big and thick cock sitting flat against his pelvis jolting up at the drag of your finger. You hum and gently rub your finger up his tip repeatedly earning a sigh from him, his eyes fluttering while his brows furrowed sticky precum oozing through his boxers, darkening the spot where his tip laid.

His thighs were having trouble staying open, the feeling of being pleasured but just barely by you was fogging up his brain it was turning him on a lot more than you thought. He could cum untouched if that's what you wanted, as many times as you wanted. You put your hand on his inner thigh caressing his freckled and tanned skin with your thumb and a smile painting your face.

You wrap your entire hand around his cock giving it a squeeze trying to get a feel out of his cock. The girth was amazing you could hardly wrap your entire hand around it. That says a lot. Once more he whined laying his head back and using the back of his hand to hide the wobbly smile forming in his flushed face. You didn't even move your hand, just holding his cock as it began jumping in your palm. You could feel it moving up and down begging to be used.

“ y..yeah.....c'mon touch it.. mmph.. fuck.”

You heard him mumble a whimper filled sentence under his breath, heavy breaths leaving him as he laid back letting you whatever you wanted to him.

“ m’gonna pull these down a bit m’kay izu?”

He nodded quickly as you removed your hand from his cock and hooked your fingers through the waist and of his boxers, pulling it back and letting it snap against his skin. He winced and jolted up at the pain whimpering with a shiver as he looked up to you with pleading eyes. He didn't say anything, letting his eyes tell you exactly what you knew he wanted. How sweet.

You run your hand down his lower abdomen before finally fishing your hand into his boxers and pulling it out gently having it lie against his pelvis once more. A shaky sigh left his lips at the gush of cold air hitting his precum slicked tip. You admired his estate for a while watching how enamouring he was, how luminescent he looked.

His cock head was large and a rosy red still leaking precum, there were a couple of veins painting the sides of his thick pulsating cock, large and full balls tightening below. He looked absolutely appetizing. It truly is a surprise to see a sweet and gentle guy have such a big and bold cock. So thick it can't even stand up on its own.

“ dont...look at it like that..”

He whispered to you, a whine ending his sentence. His eyes were hardly open he was so embarrassed, his cock was out having the cold air brush against it causing his cock to jump at the breeze. He whined lowly thighs flexing on each side of you waiting for you to do something.

You rub his thighs to try and get him to calm down, his breathing was heavy and almost as if he was out of breath. To your surprise his hips lift into the air slightly and he shivers at your touch, a low moan leaving his lips. He was so desperate to be touched it was saddening honestly, but far too cute to not enjoy.

You decided to give in and touch him, wrapping your hand around his cock once more jerking him off. Hand moving up and down in an agonizingly slow pace. Not even five minutes of you touching him gently, palm grazing over his sensitive vock head occasionally, he'd cum.

Low whines leaving his slackened jaw as his cock began leaking out his whine cum, pooling all over his lower abdomen and spilling onto the bed, you had moved your hand the second you seen his cum slowly spill down his reddened cock head.

You stared at him, disbelief behind your eyes but you hadn't wanted him to see that as he might feel bad given how quickly he'd cum. After he calmed down from he previous high his shaky eyes fluttered open and focused back on you and your figure, your eyes met with his and he instantly felt a rush of embarrassment.

Curling into a ball and huffing out a line of apologies.

“ I'm so sorry!! I just...you , you felt so good-! I didn't know I could...... just..— I'm sorry !”

You sigh and laugh above your adorable little big lover below you, hiding his face and whining in embarrassment wallowing in his own filth. You rub his back kissing the top of his head and decided you wouldn't tease him.

Although the fact his cock is so big and so thick and HE was so big and strong yet he couldn't even handle having his cock stroked by his girlfriend. Albeit this was his first time with something like this so you supposed you could give him the benefit of the doubt.

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

₊˚. ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ⊹ KNEES AND NEED !

ੈ✩‧ paring : sylus, caleb, rafayel, xavier, zayne x bunny fem!reader

ੈ✩‧ warnings : nsfw/smut, vaginal, reader is implied to be chubby, cow girl, rough s*x, doggy style, hair pulling, chocking, spanking, nipple sucking & pulling, wall fucking, biting, dacryphilia & others!

ੈ✩‧ summary : how they react when their bunny girlfriend calls them daddy. ૮꒰◞ ˕ ◟ ྀི꒱ა

ੈ✩‧ note : dunno if this is out of character, they are all mean and rough here. also minors do not interact please!! also not proof read

－❤︎︎ SYLUS :

Sylus had you spread out beneath him, your chubby thighs hooked over his arms as he drove into you, slow and deep. His red eyes were locked onto your face, drinking in every little gasp, every quiver of your soft, plush body. You were dripping for him, your pussy stretched around the thick length of his cock, so wet he could hear the slick sounds every time he thrust forward. Your fluffy tail twitching with each thrust.

“Taking me so well, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice thick with desire. His grip tightened on your thighs, thumbs pressing into your soft skin as he ground against your clit. The friction sent a shockwave through you, making you whimper and squirm in his grasp.

That’s when it slipped out. Barely a breath, just a desperate little moan—

“Daddy…”

Sylus stilled. His cock throbbed inside you, your walls clenching around him at the sudden stillness. The air between you turned electric, and when you dared to look up at him, his expression had shifted completely. Those crimson eyes burned with something deeper, something darker.

“What did you just call me?” His voice was low, dangerous, dripping with need.

Your ears twitched, cheeks burning. “I—I didn’t mean to—”

His hips snapped forward, driving his cock into you hard enough to knock the breath from your lungs. “No, you don’t get to take that back.” Another thrust, deeper, rougher. “Say it again.”

You gasped, body arching, fingers clawing at his broad shoulders. He was so deep, so thick, rubbing against the spot inside you that had you seeing stars. “D-Daddy,” you whimpered, voice cracking.

Sylus let out a growl, one hand sliding down to your belly, pressing down just enough to make you feel every inch of him buried inside you. “Good girl,” he praised, rubbing slow circles over your clit, making you writhe beneath him. “You know what that does to me, don’t you?”

You couldn’t speak, only moan as he fucked into you harder, stretching you open, making your pussy pulse around him. He was relentless now, chasing the sound of your pleasure, of you falling apart for him.

“That’s it, little bunny,” he groaned, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath hot and ragged. “Daddy’s gonna fill you up nice and full—baby.” Sylus smirked while gripping your plush thighs.

Sylus’s grip on your thighs tightened, his fingers pressing into your soft skin hard enough to leave marks. His smirk was sharp, predatory, his red eyes locked onto yours with dark amusement.

“You’re really full of surprises, aren’t you, bunny?” he rasped, his voice thick with something possessive, something dangerously pleased. His hips rolled forward, slow and deliberate, grinding his cock so deep inside you that your toes curled. “Calling me Daddy while I’m balls-deep in this perfect little pussy?”

You whimpered, thighs trembling against his arms as the heat in your belly twisted tighter. His words, his tone—it was overwhelming. Your ears twitched as you tried to turn your head, but Sylus wasn’t having it.

“Oh no, don’t go getting shy on me now.” His free hand slid up, fingers wrapping around your throat—not to squeeze, just to hold you there, to make you feel him. “Say it again. Let me hear you beg for Daddy’s cock.”

The way he said it made your insides clench, your pussy fluttering around his thick length. He groaned, the sensation sending a shudder through his broad frame, his control slipping just a little.

“D-Daddy, please,” you gasped, fingers curling into his forearms, nails dragging over his skin.

“Fuck,” he growled, his restraint snapping.

He drove into you harder now, setting a brutal rhythm that had your back arching off the bed. His cock slammed into that spot deep inside you, each thrust making your vision blur, making your fluffy tail twitch wildly against the sheets.

“Such a good girl,” Sylus praised between ragged breaths, his hand on your belly pressing down just enough to make you feel every inch of him. “Look at you, taking Daddy’s cock so fucking well. You love it, don’t you?”

You could only nod, too lost in the pleasure to form words. His fingers found your clit again, rubbing in tight, relentless circles that made your whole body jolt. The pleasure was unbearable, a dizzying, intoxicating thing that had you spiraling toward the edge.

Sylus grinned, his own control slipping as he felt your pussy start to tighten around him. “That’s it, little bunny,” he groaned, snapping his hips harder. “Cum for Daddy—let me feel you fall apart on my cock.”

And when you did, when your body clenched around him so tight it dragged a deep, guttural moan from his lips, Sylus followed right after—filling you up just like he promised.

－❤︎︎ CALEB :

Caleb leaned back against the headboard, his toned chest rising and falling with heavy breaths as he watched you sink down onto his cock. His hands gripped your plush thighs, fingers digging into the soft flesh as you took him inch by inch, stretching around his thick length.

“Shit, bunny,” he groaned, head tilting back for just a second before snapping forward again, his sharp purple-ish eyes locking onto you. “So fuckin’ tight—like you were made for me.”

You whimpered, hands bracing against his chest as you adjusted to the stretch, your bunny ears twitching. His cock was so deep, pressing right against that spot inside you that made your whole body tremble.

Caleb smirked, his grip tightening, thumbs stroking over your thighs. “C’mon, baby, don’t go shy on me now. Ride me.”

You started to move, lifting yourself just enough before sinking back down, the slow drag making you shudder. Caleb groaned, his fingers twitching like he was resisting the urge to take control, to flip you over and fuck you senseless. But he wanted to watch you do it—wanted to see the way you lost yourself on his cock.

“That’s it, just like that,” he murmured, his voice rough with need. His hands slid up to your waist, guiding your movements, helping you pick up the pace. The sound of slick, wet skin meeting filled the room, each bounce making your tits jiggle, your bunny tail twitching behind you.

Then it slipped out, barely more than a breathy moan—

“Daddy…”

Caleb froze. His hands clenched on your waist, his cock twitching deep inside you. His blue eyes darkened, something dangerous and hungry flashing through them.

“…The hell did you just call me?” His voice was low, teasing, but there was something else beneath it—something raw.

Your face burned, ears drooping slightly as you tried to brush past it, to keep moving. But Caleb wasn’t having that.

“Oh, no, sweetheart.” His hands shot to your hips, holding you still, keeping you seated fully on his cock so you could feel every inch pulsing inside you. “Say that again.”

You swallowed hard, your body trembling under his heated gaze. “…D-Daddy.”

A sharp inhale, then a slow, wicked grin spread across Caleb’s face.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, his grip tightening. “You really tryna kill me?”

Before you could answer, he planted his feet on the bed and snapped his hips up, fucking into you so hard your breath hitched. The sudden force had you falling forward, hands bracing against his shoulders, and Caleb chuckled, smug and pleased.

“That’s more like it,” he rasped, meeting each desperate bounce with deep, powerful thrusts. “Knew my sweet little bunny had a filthy side.”

His hand slid between your bodies, fingers finding your clit and rubbing tight, merciless circles. The pleasure shot straight through you, white-hot and overwhelming, your walls clenching around him.

“Daddy’s gonna make you cum so hard,” he groaned, snapping his hips up again. “Gonna have you milking my cock—c’mon, baby, let me feel it.”

And when you finally shattered, body trembling, pussy pulsing around him, Caleb groaned loud, pulling you down fully onto his cock as he filled you up, just like he promised.

－❤︎︎ RAFAYEL :

Rafayel had you on your hands and knees, his grip firm on your hips as he fucked you deep and steady. His pink and blue eyes were locked onto the way your plush body trembled beneath him, your soft thighs quivering, your fluffy bunny tail twitching with each sharp thrust. The wet sounds of your slick pussy taking him so well filled the room, along with his low, controlled breaths and the occasional rough groan.

“Tch,” he muttered, his voice laced with amusement and condescension. “Look at you. Pathetic.”

You shuddered, his cruel words sending a sharp pulse of heat straight to your core. Rafayel was always like this—biting, arrogant, a man who wielded control like a blade. And yet, you could feel it in the way his fingers dug into your skin, in the way his pace stuttered for just a second when your walls fluttered around him. He was just as affected as you were, even if he wouldn’t say it.

A wicked idea sparked in your mind, and before you could second-guess yourself, the word slipped past your lips, breathy and sweet—

“Daddy.”

Rafayel froze.

His grip on your hips tightened to the point of bruising, his cock throbbing inside you as the weight of that single word sank in. The air turned thick with tension, an eerie silence stretching between you before he finally spoke.

“…The fuck did you just call me?” His voice was low, dangerously quiet.

Your ears twitched, your face burning, but you forced yourself to stay still, to feign innocence. “I—I didn’t mean to—”

A sharp, sudden thrust cut you off, knocking the air from your lungs.

“No.” His tone was a warning, a command. “You don’t get to take that back.” Another deep, punishing thrust, forcing you to take every inch of him. “Say it again.”

Your fingers curled into the sheets, your body trembling as the pleasure crashed over you in waves. He felt bigger now, heavier, his presence overwhelming as he loomed over you, his breath hot against your ear.

“D-Daddy,” you whimpered, barely able to get the word out.

Rafayel let out a low, guttural groan, something between a curse and a growl. His hands slid up your body, one gripping your waist while the other wrapped around your throat—not to squeeze, just to hold you in place. His pace turned brutal, his cock slamming into you over and over again, hitting that perfect spot inside you that had you seeing stars.

“Good girl,” he praised, his voice rough with desire. “You want Daddy to fuck you properly? Want to be filled up nice and full?”

You nodded desperately, too lost in the pleasure to speak.

Rafayel chuckled darkly, his fingers slipping between your legs, rubbing tight circles against your clit. “Then take it, bunny. Take all of it.”

And when you finally came, body writhing, walls clenching down on him, Rafayel followed with a deep, shuddering groan—filling you up just like he promised.

－❤︎︎ XAVIER :

Xavier had you pressed against the cold wall of his quarters, your legs wrapped around his waist, your soft body caged between him and the unyielding surface. His hands gripped your thighs, keeping you exactly where he wanted as he drove into you, slow and deep, making you feel every inch of him stretching you open.

His blue eyes burned into yours, half-lidded with lust, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Look at you,” he murmured, voice dripping with amusement. “So needy. You’ve been squeezing around me ever since I put you up here.”

You whimpered, his words making the heat in your core tighten. His cock dragged against that sweet spot inside you with every thrust, the angle making it impossible to escape the overwhelming pleasure. Your bunny ears twitched, your fluffy tail quivering, and Xavier’s smirk widened.

“Aww, are your little ears twitching for me?” He teased, rolling his hips forward harder, making you cry out. “Fuck, that’s cute.”

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging desperately, and he let out a low chuckle. “Oh, you wanna play rough, bunny?”

Before you could respond, his hand shot up, wrapping around your throat, pinning you fully against the wall. His grip wasn’t tight—just firm enough to make you feel it, to remind you exactly who was in control. Your breath hitched, and Xavier leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear.

“Let’s see how much you can handle,” he purred.

His pace turned brutal, his hips slamming into you with an intensity that had your body shaking. You gasped, the pressure on your throat making everything sharper—the pleasure, the way his cock filled you so perfectly, the raw heat of his dominance.

Then, without warning, his free hand yanked your hair back, forcing your head up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. His pupils were blown wide, a dark, hungry glint in those striking blue eyes.

“You look so fucking good like this,” he groaned, his fingers tightening just enough to make your breath stutter. “Choked up on my cock, all helpless and desperate. Bet you love this, don’t you?”

A strangled moan was all you could manage, and Xavier smirked.

“Oh, bunny, I felt that,” he cooed, his thumb stroking over your pulse. “Your pretty little pussy just clenched so tight around me. You want Daddy to ruin you, huh?”

The word slipped out before you could stop it. “D-Daddy—”

Xavier went still for half a second. Then, something dark flickered across his face, and his grip on your hair tightened.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice taking on a dangerous edge. “You really shouldn’t have said that.”

His next thrust was punishing, slamming so deep you saw stars. You sobbed his name—his new name—and Xavier groaned, his control snapping completely.

“That’s it,” he growled, fucking you harder, his hand pressing tighter against your throat. “Say it again. Beg for Daddy’s cock while I fill you up.”

You did—again and again—until your body shattered around him, and Xavier made good on his promise, burying himself deep inside you with a low, satisfied groan.

－❤︎︎ ZAYNE :

Zayne had you sprawled across his lap, your back pressed to his chest, legs spread wide as he bounced you on his cock. His strong arms were wrapped around your waist, keeping you trapped against him, making sure you took every inch of him as he thrust up into you, slow and deliberate.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he groaned against your ear, his breath hot as his hands roamed over your soft body. “You’re squeezin’ me so damn tight.”

You whimpered, head falling back against his shoulder, your bunny ears twitching as the pleasure built with every deep stroke. His cock dragged against that perfect spot inside you, stretching you open, making your body tremble from the intensity of it all.

“Z-Zayne,” you gasped, fingers clawing at his arms, trying to ground yourself.

His lips curled into a smirk. “What’s wrong, bunny? Can’t handle it?”

Without warning, he dipped his head down, sinking his teeth into your shoulder—sharp enough to make you gasp, but not enough to break the skin. The sensation sent a shudder through you, your walls fluttering around his cock as heat coiled tighter in your core.

Zayne chuckled, licking over the fresh bite before sucking hard, leaving a deep, possessive mark. “Mmm, you look so damn good covered in my marks,” he murmured, pressing another hickey just below your ear. “Gonna make sure everyone knows exactly who fucks you like this.”

His grip tightened on your thighs, his thrusts picking up pace, bouncing you harder on his cock. You sobbed his name, hands flying up to grasp his hair as the pleasure became overwhelming.

Then, in a moment of pure desperation, it slipped out—

“D-Daddy—”

Zayne stilled.

His grip on your body tightened, his cock throbbing deep inside you, and you could feel the low growl vibrating in his chest.

“The fuck did you just call me?” His voice was rough, edged with something dark and hungry.

You swallowed hard, your ears twitching, heat flooding your cheeks. “I—I didn’t mean—”

A sharp thrust cut you off, Zayne’s hands moving to grip your hips as he fucked into you harder, rougher, dragging out a cry from your lips.

“No, no, sweetheart,” he rasped, his teeth grazing your throat before biting down again. “You don’t get to take that back.”

His pace turned relentless, his cock slamming into you with a new kind of urgency. One of his hands slid up, wrapping around your throat, tilting your head to the side so he could see your dazed, desperate expression.

“Say it again,” he demanded, his voice rough against your skin.

You moaned, body arching, fingers digging into his arms. “D-Daddy—!”

Zayne groaned, his hand moving between your legs, rubbing tight circles against your clit. “That’s my girl,” he praised, his grip on your throat tightening just enough to make your breath stutter. “Daddy’s gonna fuck you stupid—gonna fill you up nice and full.”

And with another sharp bite against your neck, he did exactly that—fucking you through your high, making sure you felt every last drop of his release inside you.

Zayne didn’t let up. Even as your body trembled, even as your thighs quivered against his, even as you tried to catch your breath, he kept fucking into you—deep, deliberate, relentless.

Your vision blurred, overwhelmed by the pleasure, the overstimulation making your body shake in his grip. Tears welled up in your eyes, spilling over your cheeks, and Zayne groaned at the sight.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he rasped, his tongue tracing over the tear-streaked path down your cheek before pressing a soft, almost mocking kiss to your jaw. “Look at you. Cryin’ already?”

You let out a choked sob, gripping his arms as your body tensed around him. Every thrust pushed you further into the haze of pleasure, your mind melting from the intensity.

Zayne fucking loved it.

“God, you’re so pretty when you cry,” he murmured, tilting your head back to get a better look. His fingers brushed away a stray tear, only to press down on your clit again, drawing another desperate sob from your lips. “Bet you love this, huh? Daddy fucks you so good it makes you tear up?”

You nodded weakly, your breath coming in ragged little gasps. Your ears drooped slightly, your fluffy tail twitching in response to the overwhelming sensation coursing through you.

Zayne smirked, his grip on your throat tightening just enough to make your breath stutter. “Poor little bunny,” he cooed, mock sympathy lacing his voice. “Can’t even handle it, can you?”

A sob tore from your throat, and he groaned, his thrusts turning rougher, more demanding. He was obsessed—obsessed with how wrecked you looked, how every whimper, every gasp, every tear made you clench down around him even tighter.

“You’re gonna cry while I fill you up, aren’t you?” he growled, his teeth dragging along the shell of your ear before biting down hard. “Gonna be a good little bunny and take everything I give you?”

All you could do was nod, helpless beneath his touch, your body too lost in pleasure to do anything else.

And when he finally pushed you over the edge again—when your body shattered completely, sobbing his name as you came around his cock—Zayne groaned, burying himself deep and giving you exactly what he promised, his hands gripping you tight as he filled you up, claiming you in every possible way.

Even as your body went limp against his chest, the aftershocks making you shudder, he didn’t let go. He held you there, pressing lazy kisses against your tear—streaked cheeks, smirking as he whispered,

“That’s my good girl.”

© 2024-2025 blueberrisdove-sideblog all rights reserved. pretty please, do not steal my dividers, translate and plagiarize any of my works, or either repost my works in any other platform without asking, thank you!

[connorsui]

Dad! Simon

You find him in the bedroom, sitting on the floor with his back against the bed, legs stretched out, a shoebox balanced on his thigh. And, scattered around him—like fallen leaves—are photographs.

You lean against the doorframe, arms crossed, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Planning a scrapbook?”

Simon doesn’t look up, but the corner of his mouth twitches. Not quite a smile. Just recognition.

"He’s gotten so big now," he mutters, lifting a picture between his fingers. He turns it toward you—your son, a newborn, swaddled tight, impossibly small in his arms. "Look at this—head barely bigger than my palm."

You step inside, lowering yourself beside him. The photos form a mosaic across the carpet—a timeline of a life measured in firsts.

First ultrasound. First bath. First wobbly steps.

His first birthday, cake frosting, smeared across chubby cheeks, fingers reaching for Simon’s.

His first time on Simon’s shoulders, tiny hands gripping his head, giggling like he’d never known a world without laughter.

You pick up a more recent one—your son at five, sitting on Simon’s lap, eyes bright, smile wide. He looks just like him. Same sharp gaze, same shape of the mouth. It’s almost funny how undeniable it is.

Simon exhales, slow and steady, his thumb tracing over the glossy surface.

"Simon ...do you want me to - "

His jaw tightens, just for a second, before he lets out a quiet huff. “No, it’s fine. Thinkin’ of puttin’ some in an album.”

You don’t catch him on the lie.

Because what you don’t know—what you won’t know for a long time—is that there will be no album.

The photos will go back into the box. Just like they always do.

And later that night, after the house has settled into quiet, after you’ve both gone to bed, he’ll slip the box under his side of the nightstand—within reach, always.

And when it’s time—when the bags are packed, when his boots are laced, when the house is still dark with sleep—he’ll take the smallest, most recent one.

-- where your son is missing a front tooth, grinning wide, arms thrown around your neck like he never wants to let go.

He’ll fold it carefully, tuck it into the pocket of his gear.

Because the thought of not having it, of not carrying that proof of life with him, is unbearable.

So he keeps them.

And sometimes, when he’s halfway across the world, when the silence stretches too long and the weight in his chest feels too heavy to bear, he’ll take that photo out.

Run his thumb over the edges.

Remind himself of what’s waiting for him at home.

Just for a little while.

Just to hold on.

[dmitriene]

cw: drunk sex.

coming back home to simon absolutely drunk, your legs can barely hold your limp, relaxed body as you stumble through the doorway with the clink of keys and the clatter of your low heels on the parquet floor, trying to make your way through the blurred gaze and floating interior into the dimly lit living room, the walls occasionally flickering with bright flashes from the turned on tv.

simon is here, muscular, beefy body leaning against the headboard of the soft couch, he was waiting for you, the turned on phone is located on the wide handle right to his side, open on messenger with you, where your words about that you will be home soon are clearly printed with black, large font, stubbornly refusing his offer to pick you up from the bar because your girlfriends saw you off, so he stayed waiting obediently, his eased body drowning in the cushions under him.

he didn't expect you to come back not only drunk, but also painfully horny, head snapping aside when simon hears the shuffle of feet, too drowsy to hear you coming back, even through it was loud enough for even your neighbors to hear, as his sleep clogged mind flicks awake quickly, should his lidded, coal eyes meet your gaze, studying, squinted, you eye him up and down like the most delicious candy, a lopsided smile painting over your lips.

it's the shudders that wrack his spine and pierce his wide shoulders that make you giggle, sweet, half hiccuped smile that makes simon huff his own, hoarse with lingering sleep chuckle, helping you to settle down on his bulky lap, heavy, thick hands holding onto your wide hips that hugged by the flimsy fabric of your dress, rubbing a calloused thumb over the bone of your hip, even when your naughty fingers reach for his sweats.

he ain't the one to refuse you when you're the one to take the reins, hastily and messily bunching your dress up enough to expose the view of your underwear, already wet, aching, pulling aside the edge of the fabric of your panties that is already soaked at the front of your pussy, you release his chubby, engorged cock from beneath his pants, letting the girthy length slap against his rippling, toned stomach, your coaxing, gliding touch to the weeping, thick root of his cock makes simon moan out instead of hiss.

simon is louder than you, even through it's his spit soaked fingers that is stuffed in your mouth, drool seeping out and dripping down at the fat, meaty length of his cock that already glistens with his pearly precome and your glistening strings of slick, gushing out from your stretched, stuffed pussy that suctions at him greedily, keeping his girth deep inside with short, aborted buckles of your hips.

you take him while he let's you, watching with lazy, fluttering eyes how you bounce up and down with hiccuping, keening whimpers, calling his name like a siren itching to drown a poor lad, and you almost do, his spasming cock squeezed painfully tight along your pulsing, gummy walls, as he grunts around your digits in time you choke pitched, slurred sounds around his own, rough one's.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[littlelamy]

Can u write one where reader in rafe are broken up on they have a kid but rafe still wants her because she’s a milf😛😛

a/n: hope you like it bb! i want to do more milf!reader so send more requests!!

“sooo, this what motherhood look like now?”

you don’t even have to turn around to know it’s rafe. his voice still does that thing—annoyingly smooth. you glance over your shoulder anyway, one hip popped as you hoist the diaper bag higher, your kid balanced on the other side, clinging to your hoodie with chubby fingers.

he’s leaning against his car across the parking lot like this is some romcom reunion moment, arms crossed, a crooked smirk playing on his lips like he didn’t rip your fucking heart out a year ago. he’s in that stupid grey shirt that clings to his chest in a way you know he does on purpose. like he knows it makes horny.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” you ask, voice dry.

he pushes off the car, starts walking toward you. “just sayin’,” he shrugs, eyes dragging down the curve of your ass in the leggings you didn’t think twice about throwing on this morning. “you really gonna come out here with your hair in a claw clip and your tits lookin’ like that and expect me to not say something?”

you huff a breath, glance at your kid—blissfully chewing on the zipper of the diaper bag like she’s got no idea she’s at the center of this chaotic love story neither of you really closed the book on.

“i’m literally just picking up wipes,” you mutter, adjusting your grip on the squirming toddler who’s now babbling happily to herself.

“yeah, and you’re doin’ it lookin’ like that.” he grins, cocky and slow. “don’t act like you don’t know you’re a full-blown milf.”

you stare at him, deadpan. “you’re so annoying.”

“and yet,” he says, stepping closer, eyes catching yours for just a second longer than necessary, “you ain’t stopped lookin’ at me either.”

you roll your eyes, shifting your daughter to your other hip. “what do you want, rafe?”

he shrugs again, but it’s slower this time. “just saw you out here. thought maybe we could talk. catch up.”

“we don’t need to catch up. we have joint custody. we literally see each other all the time.”

“not like that.” his voice is lower now, and when you meet his eyes, there’s something softer under the usual smirk. something that makes your stomach twist, because you know exactly what that look means. “i meant…you and me.”

you exhale, long and sharp. “rafe, we’ve been over this.”

he runs a hand through his hair, stepping in close enough now that you can smell his cologne—warm and woodsy, very familiar. he brushes his thumb gently over your daughter’s back, and the sight of it makes your chest ache.

“i know,” he says. “but that don’t mean i’ve stopped thinkin’ about it..about you.”

you clutch the bag tighter, feel the weight of his words settle heavy in your chest. “you think just because we had a kid, that means we’re supposed to magically work out again?”

he shakes his head. “nah..not sayin’ that. but it changed how i see you. how i feel about you.”

you blink, caught off guard. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

his eyes drag over your face, slow and sure. “means watchin’ you be a mom? watchin’ you handle every meltdown and midnight fever and blowout diaper like it’s nothin’? that shit wrecked me.”

“rafe—”

“nah, let me finish.” he steps a little closer, voice quieter now, but so damn certain. “you’ve always been beautiful. always had me twisted. but now? you’re somethin’ else. strong, scary strong, and soft, too. and yeah, the fact that you still look hot as fuck doin’ it? not helpin’ me forget how good we were.”

you look down, not because you’re shy, but because you hate how fast your throat tightens. you’ve been doing this alone for so long, even when you weren’t alone. but hearing him say it—he saw it, all of it—something warms your heart.

“we weren’t always good,” you say, voice thick. “you know that.”

“i do.” he nods. “but when it was good? it was good. and i think we could have that again. maybe better this time. i’m not the same dumbass i was before.”

you let out a humorless laugh. “you still sound like him.”

he grins. “maybe. but now i’m a dumbass who never misses a pickup and knows how to braid her hair when she asks. that’s gotta count for somethin’, right?”

you look at him, and for the first time in a long time, it doesn’t just feel like shared history. it feels like a possibility for the future.

your daughter squeals suddenly, yanking your attention back, and rafe leans in without thinking, kissing her cheek, brushing a crumb from her mouth. your stomach does a stupid little flip at the sight of it.

you hesitate, then sigh. “you wanna come over tonight? help with bedtime?”

he straightens, eyes lighting up like a golden retriever. “you serious?”

“don’t make it weird,” you grumble, already walking to the car, “you’re still doing bath time.”

he catches up beside you, smirking. “i’ll bring dinner.”

you shake your head, biting back a smile. “you’re still a pain in my ass.”

“yeah,” he says, brushing his hand lightly over your back as he opens the car door, “but i’m your pain in the ass.”

you don’t argue, at least not this time.

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[annievrse]

dad!sukuna!!!

—ᡣ𐭩 blurb a/n: based on this tiktok that gave me insane baby fever

the birds chirping outside in the dawn light makes your daughter giggle from where she stands in your bedroom doorway.

"baby," you whisper to her, beckoning her over to your side of the bed. "c'mere."

your 3-year-old wobbles around the bed, having gotten out of bed by herself. she stands before you with her hands out and grabs your arms.

"layla," you whisper, glancing over your shoulder at your husband, whose hair pokes out wildly from under the duvet. "tell daddy mommy wants a coffee."

your daughter's wide eyes round, and she tilts her head. "cowe?"

you suppress a giggle. "coffee."

"coppee?"

"yeah, good enough," you mumble, nodding. and then you lift her onto the bed. layla clambers over your body and falls face-first into the space between you and sukuna, her pink hair splayed everywhere.

you slap your mouth with your palm to stop the laughs from escaping. your husband stirs, groaning deeply under the white blankets. she looks over at you with a smile on her face, and you give her a single thumbs up.

"dada," layla says, climbing on top of him. "wake up!"

"hi, babygirl," sukuna slurs, eyes half open.

"i want coppee."

"hm? what?"

"coppee!"

"coffee...?" sukuna takes a moment to process the word and then looks at you over his shoulder, eyes puffy. "really, bro?"

you giggle, hiding your face in the blankets.

"you want coffee..." sukuna says, pointing at your daughter. "you go get it."

"no, mummy wants coppee! you get it!" she giggles, chubby finger aimed at him, too.

“noooo,” he whines, though it’s barely one. he shoves his face back into his pillow. “you.”

“daddy!” your daughter yells. “coppee!!”

sukuna scoffs a laugh and rubs his eye with his knuckle while your daughter dances around the room singing, "coppee, coppee!"

"you're lucky you're cute," sukuna grumbles, swinging his bare legs out of the bed, looking over at you as he does so. "you too."

[lay-z]

The first real vacation with your dear husband and your one year old daughter turns out to be quite dangerous for you—because everything he does makes your hormone levels boil and your libido sing, and it's too soon to think about another baby.

Innit?

Simon is nothing but saccharine cute and attentive; putting sunscreen on your daughter's chubby limbs before telling (not asking), telling you to turn around so he can put sunscreen on your back next.

The slight dominance with his gruff voice—something he sometimes can't turn off even away from work—paired with the obvious care and worry in his tone, make your toes curl into the hot sand and a giddy smile spread on your lips as you're facing away from him.

Simon takes the baby for walks at the shore whenever she gets fussy, wanting you to have a moment of peace as you read your novel in your beach lounger. He comes back with snacks and drinks every time, flashing you a proud smile when he can show off your sleeping babe in the baby carrier, strapped to his bare chest (and no, he doesn’t mind that the straps will have him end up with tanning lines).

Each day, he carves up a large watermelon at the beach and feeds both you and his daughter while you take pictures and videos of the precious moments when the baby pulls an adorable face, and he reaches over to wipe the juice off your chin before licking it off his thumb so your expensive swimsuit doesn't get stains on it.

Pride and contentment both ooze off him when he takes you out to the resort restaurants every night, pushing the stroller one-handed with broad, straightened shoulders while holding your hand with the other, gently swinging your entwined hands playfully.

His tawny eyes sparkle with raw adoration and love whenever your gazes lock over the dinner table as you feed your daughter new foods and fruits to try.

The looks he shoots you cause your stomach to churn with butterflies, bringing you back to a time with lots of firsts—first date, first kiss, first whispered I love You's.

At night, he never leaves your side and insists to put your daughter to sleep in her crib how you've created her—together.

And when it's finally time to flip the light off and slip under the white linen sheets while the AC hums in the background, you're so riled up with lust and love for your husband that you can barely keep yourself together.

As always, Simon is faster, though.

And he pulls you over to his side of the mattress beneath the sheets with practiced ease and a sigh of relief until your back molds itself perfectly to his bare chest while he runs his rough palm along the curve of your waist, old callouses caused by hard work catching on the fabric of the short, silky negligeé dress.

Goosebumps spread all over your skin at the contact; nipples perking, breath hitching, blood simmering with arousal as his warm breath puffs over your exposed neck.

"My gorgeous wife," he coos, fingers toying with the delicate hem of your dress while your thighs squeeze together as you turn your face away, hiding your coy smile into the plush pillow.

"Mother of my beautiful daughter," he adds, his voice now rougher as he shifts behind you, slowly dragging the skirt up your body as the sheets rustle gently. "Fuck, I need you, love."

You let out the sweetest and giddiest giggle, and Simon's chest vibrates with a low, matching chuckle.

"Stop—" you whine, squeaking when he squeezes your plump ass cheek.

"Christ. Can't never lemme be sexy and seductive f'you, eh?" He gropes you again, pinches your sensitive nipple through the silk, and you press your face into the pillow to muffle your laughter as you try to squirm away. "Simon!"

He merely snorts as you try to get out of his grip, and the tussle turns into playfighting—turns into tender lovemaking.

And so what if neither of you remembers to use protection.

[yeagersss]

He blinks at the bundle of joy in your arms. A small thing with his pink hair and red eyes but also your chubby cheeks and doe-like eyes.

You were trying to get your husband to hold his daughter.

The throne room was empty so, much to Sukuna's favour, no one was there to witness how tense and awkwardly the King of Curses sat on his throne while his two monstrous arms held a tiny, fragile baby.

"Be gentle. Support her head." Your soft voice instructed him.

But Sukuna was not made for gentleness. Sure, he tries with you... but this is entirely different. He felt like he could crush the baby even if he stayed perfectly still.

So he scoffed. "This is ridiculous. Take her back." I might break her. He refrained from adding.

But you saw his tense look and noticed the slight panic in his tone. After being married to this powerful man for years, you know your husband better than anyone else does.

"Love, it's okay. You're doing great." You assured him with a tender hand on his shoulder.

He looked down at his daughter who blinked at him with a curious stare. And then, she lifted her tiny, little hand up.

Sukuna found himself lifting his third hand, hesitantly bringing it closer to her.

And when his little girl grabbed his pinky in her small hand, and when she smiled at him before bursting into soft giggles, he swore the flames ignited in his heart were stronger than his own fuga.

His shoulders relaxed and his lips twitched into a small smile. He lowered his hand to gently trace his daughter's chin with his large thumb.

"Hmph. You have your mother's smile." He commented.

He found himself smiling for the second time when he felt you lean against him as both of you looked down at your beautiful, little girl.

[moechies]

kinktober ⋆౨ৎ entry #2 ; size kink w shidou ryuusei .ᐟ

dear diary ♡,

ugh! ryuusei is so crude ! :( i want to act like a hate it, but he always catches on when i get nervous or shy at his antics and it’s soooo embarrassing! he knows me in and out (literally) especially when we’re havin’ sex. he’s running his mouth, always making fun of how wet aroused i get and how my ‘cunt clenches around nothing like a slut?!’ he doesn’t have to say it out loud… i can’t help but get so shy around him — my own boyfriend! is that so bad!? i think his physique also makes me nervous… >< ryuusei is so tall and so beefy ♡ he always catches me staring! i think he could launch me across the room if he wanted to! i better be careful…

“look at how small this pussy is compared to my dick. are ya gonna cry when i fuck this pretty pussy?” shidou hums, pressing his tip up against your chubby folds, and then comparing his cock against your tummy. a low whistle leaves his lips, accompanied by a cocky chuckle, watching the bulbous heap of his tip nudge against your belly button.

“s—shut up ryuu! y’r n-not that big..” you bite, words faltering when you realize the awfully dumb and bold statement that had unconsciously fallen from your lips. he quirks his head with a grin — it’s hilarious to hear you say that from below him, his body hovering over the entirety of yours and his hand damn near the size of your womb.

“that’s funny.” he gloats, sharp canines making an appearance when he flashes a smile. "you really think so?" his cock slips against your folds, folded upwards as he leans down besides you, hot breath felt in between the soft concave of your collar and jaw. you twitch when he gives your neck a soft nip, hot breath tickling the peachy thin hairs on the shell of your ear.

“y’r g’na see just how big i am when i fuck this pussy till it tears.”

he whispers into the shell of your ear, giving your neck another soft nip accompanied by a nibble from his sharp canines.

“go away! y’b—big fat brute.” you hiss weakly, ignoring the way your cunt clenches around nothing at his crude words. you look away, purposefully ignoring the heavy gaze set on your face to avoid his confrontation — putting up your strongest facade to avoid his humiliation. “look at me.” he growls, fingers pressed into your jaw to turn you to him.

you whine, small, shaky hands pushing weakly at his heavy chest, his skin soft and glowy to the touch after hours of being drenched in sweat. “what, y’scared?” he quips, laying his body down onto yours, enveloping you into his warmth.

he reaches his hand below to take yours into his, pressing a thumb into the apple of your palm before giving it a damp kiss. “give ryu a kiss.” shidou presses his lips onto yours at the same time his fat tip nudges in between your folds, prodding against the very hole he needs to be in -- you need him to be in. you feel his warm pre leaking into your slit, dirtying your slit.

he’s amused at the way you whine into his mouth, trying so hard to wriggle away under his heavy weight and push him away again — but he knows how much you love this. how much you love the power he holds over you, and how easily he can have you under him with a sleazy kiss and a few rubs to your little pussy. “don’t be scared, doll.” he mumbles against your lips.

you hate the way he chuckles when you moan into his mouth, your nails digging into his bicep when he attempts to shove his way in. “ryuusei,” you cry, throwing your head bad when you feel the bridge of his cock head fully enter your swollen pussy — your warm folds enveloping him so perfectly, yet wanting to resist him at the same time -- it makes him dizzy. “big, t—too big, help—“

“but y’r takin’ me so perfect. it can't be too big, sweet thing.” shidou thrusts gently, and oh -- you feel every single fucking inch of him. the way his slit drags against your velvety walls, and the scattered veins decorated on the first mere inches of his shaft. every single hump of his prettily decorated cock -- you feel everything.

“don’t,” you cry, feeling the tip of his cock fucking against your walls ever-so slowly. “i’ll cum!”

“on my fuckin’ tip?” he lets out a boasty laugh, pace quickening despite the shaft of his cock you’ve yet to take. “you���re not good at this, doll.”

“no,” you mewl, breaths heavy as you pant. his hand reaches under your tank top, pulling at your pert nipple — sucking it though your thin shirt. his saliva coats the fabric, seeping through to your areola as you twitch incessantly. "wan' cum, cum--"

"stupid, stupid girl. y'braindead on my fuckin' tip? d'ya even have anythin' going on inside that little head of yours?"

"ryuu, ryuu--"

"yeah," he drags out, mumbling against your tit before giving it a mean nip. he urges his hips further against yours, pushing in more cock than you had been anticipating and it makes you scream--

"ryuu--! f-full, s'full, please,"

he knows how hard this is on his sweet girl -- way to much for her and her pliant little body to bare. that's what makes this so fun, so damn great.

"hey . . this little body was made f’me, ‘s i’m gonna need you to act like it ‘nd take it, c'mon. endure it, my doll." he growls, huge arms wrapping under and around yours, pinning you tight against the soft mattress. he envelops your body with a swift grasp, completely hidden under his grasp as if he were protecting you from everything else that has ever existed ever -- like a maternal bear would her cub. you yelp, throwing your head back under his hold as he presses further into your pussy mercilessly, tuning out your cries and whines for him to slow. "fuckin' mine. mine, all mine."

"n'more!" you cry out in stutters, feeling his plump, damp balls press against your ass, cunt stretched beyond belief with little thought left in your head. your folds are spread impossibly wide, struggling to endure all of the man as you warm him. "fuck, shit. w'na stay with my girls forever. just like this." he hisses, pressing a fervor kiss to your lips. he cracks an eye open, met with your low-lidded ones, pupils heavily dilated.

your drowning in each other's sweat, your entire bodies clad against one another. it's so damn hot you might fucking explode -- your remnants would consist of a million beating hearts dedicated to your boyfriend--

"'m the only one that'll ever make you feel like this. don't forget that, dumb fuckin' girl."

[luvbabydoll]

soft spot — simon “ghost” riley

simon riley x fem!chubby!wife reader

warnings: none

simon “ghost” riley wasn’t soft. not to his enemies. not to his mates. not to anyone. but with you? you were his exception.

he had you tucked under his arm on the couch, your body warm against his side as the telly hummed in the background. his hand rested on your plush thigh, thumb rubbing lazy circles over the soft fabric of your lounge shorts. he always touched you like this—absently, like he didn’t even realize he was doing it. like he needed to.

you shifted slightly, and his grip tightened. “quit wigglin’, love,” he murmured, voice low, rough from disuse. “gettin’ comfy,” you murmured back, nuzzling against his chest.

simon huffed, but his fingers curled around the swell of your thigh, kneading gently. “you’re already plenty comfy,” he mused, letting his fingers dip under the hem of your shorts, tracing along the warm skin beneath. “softest bloody thing i’ve ever touched.”

you felt your face heat at the way he said it, so matter-of-fact, like it wasn’t the sweetest damn thing in the world.

“you like that, huh?” you teased, poking at his ribs. “big, bad ghost—turns out he’s a sucker for a soft woman.”

he turned his head, pressing his masked face into your hair. “wouldn’t call it bein’ a sucker,” he muttered. “more like… I know what I like.”

and what he liked—what he adored, what he worshiped—was you.

[strawberry-nugget]

You ask Katsuki to give you a massage and end up with him blowing your back out♡♡

Warnings: smut, 18+ minors do not interact, fem!reader, happy ending massage, p in v sex, fingering, (some light) anal fingering, oiled up sex yall #holyfuckingairball, slight!dirty talking, slow sex, biting, spitting, prone-bone position, unprotected sex, All characters are 20+

Katsuki’s hands are huge. Heavy. Warm like stones left out in the sun. His fingers are thick, bulky and chubby where his knuckles are, the pads of his thumbs are calloused and rough, freed from the texture of a print due to regular filing, and still, my god— do they feel good rubbing zig zag lines and uneven shaped circles against your sore back.

His hands settle over every curve of your back like they were made to be there. Broad palms that are quirk charged bracketing your waist, spreading heat through his thumbs over muscle and skin until you’re not sure where your body ends and his begins. The weight of them is grounding, like gravity doubled. Like exhaling for the first time in hours.

You have been sore for way too long. Debating on whether you should book an appointment for a massage or get doctor prescribed physios, but ultimately in your lack of time and indecisiveness, you’ve let the issue come to its boiling point, let your back feel sore and aching to even the touch of your nails when you scratch yourself. 

You tell yourself it surely wasn’t an excuse to make Katsuki get his hands on you like this, but then again if you were asked, you couldn’t say the opposite. The feeling of his hands on your skin is scorching every cell of your existence at all times and now— now you’re enjoying this way too much.

Naturally, your breath starts to stutter. Just a little. Shallow at first—barely-there catches of air that stalls in your chest each time his thumbs roll in deep near your spine, right where it always hurts worst. Katsuki notices. Of course he does. His hands pause for half a beat, then glide lower, smoothing the ache with a gentler pass like he’s coaxing the tension out instead of breaking it.

“Too much?” he murmurs, voice thick with sleep and heat and something else he doesn’t name. Something that lives between the cracks of his touch.

You shake your head into the pillow.

No. Not even close.

If anything, you feel as if you might as well melt.

The room is candlelit, filled with that slow bloom of lavender and something warmer—jasmine? Chamomile? It smells almost toasted from where his palms heat up the oil, seeping into the air like steam curling off summer pavement after rain. Soft music is playing in the background, drumming low with every single lyric the singer sings; Katsuki has gone out of his usual way to make you feel comfortable.

You’re already half-melted into the mattress by now, face buried in a pillow that still smells like his skin, the edge of your tank top pushed up to your ribs. You feel him behind you, quiet, deliberate, the bed dipping beneath his weight as his hands find the bottle of oil again.

When his hands leave your back, you’re back to feeling like hell, like all the alleviated pain just punched its way back into your rear.

To save you from this agony, Katsuki’s hands—those massive, brutish hands that have torn through half the villains in Japan, the hands that have been worked in excruciating and harsh conditions over the years—are moving over your back again like they’re made of sunlight and patience.

He presses again, harder this time. Not cruel, not rough. Just deliberate. One thumb working in a crooked elliptical circle beneath your shoulder blade while the heel of his other palm drags slow, wide strokes across your lower back. There’s no rhythm to it, no pattern. Just instinct. Just him. And maybe that’s why it feels so good. Because it’s not technique, not some learned routine from a textbook. It’s just him and the way he cares about you. Cares enough to soften his rough edges, to make his hardened palms feel incredible and soothing on your back.

Katsuki settles on either side of your legs, sitting on his knees above you as his oily thumbs hook under your bunched up shirt, coaxing you to lift only ever just a little, so he can take the article of clothing off of you.

With only a small tag, the flimsy piece of clothing is over your head, discarded onto the edge of the bed and Katsuki moves over your legs again, this time sitting low, just over the back of your knees. Rough palms that drip of fresh lavender oil feel your tummy as you stay lifted up, running up, up, up, until they slide across your breasts, thumbs softly brushing your nipples.

You moan with a rasp, at the loss of the feeling, or maybe at how hot his palms are when they engulf your shoulders and give a pinching little rub. 

You feel Katsuki press in with a slow, unyielding pressure that makes your breath hitch against the pillow. He knows exactly where to go—where you hold stress, where it bites. Right between your shoulder blades, far up on the back of your neck, low at the base of your spine, the outer edges of your hips. His thumbs circle there, digging in just enough to ache, then easing off like a tide pulling back from shore.

He tags at your pyjama shorts next, just the waistline at first, then the start of your panties, but his thumbs stain the fabric in lavender sweetness, tagging even further when he says “Off”

You lift your hips without a word. It’s not even a decision—it’s instinct. A quiet offering. A permission that’s already been granted a hundred times in your body before it ever reaches your lips.

The shorts slide down slow. The elastic tugs over the swell of your ass, catching just slightly at the curve of your thighs before easing off, guided by thumbs that are far too gentle for how rough they look. His hands are reverent, even now. Even with your bare skin revealed under the low flicker of candlelight, with the smell of lavender thick in the air, wrapping around you both like a silken ribbon.

There’s a pause. Not long. Just enough to make you breathe in, hold it. You feel the weight of his gaze on your back. Feel it like a touch. Like heat.

Then his hands are on you again, and it’s almost worse than before. Better. Unbearably better.

His thumbs drag low, slow, slick with oil as they part the dip of your spine. They don’t press too hard. Just smooth you open—figuratively, literally—with strokes that make your toes curl into the sheets. His fingers knead into the meat of your hips now, heavy and full, pressing into places that ache with tiredness, places that never get touched this way unless it’s under the guise of something much filthier.

“You wait too long,” he mutters. Voice rough, low, almost annoyed—but not really. Not at you. “Could feel the knots from the second I touched you.”

You hum, something low in your throat. Almost a laugh. Almost a whimper. “Didn’t have time.”

“Make time,” he snaps, but it’s soft. Almost affectionate. His hands say more than the words ever could. They dig in again, dragging slow zigzags along the base of your spine, making your back arch and your thighs twitch. He smooths them over your ass, dragging the oil agonisingly slow over you, until his thumbs brush over the lower crevices of your bottom.

“Just ask, I’ll rub your back”

You can’t tell if it’s the oil or your own sweat making your skin slick now. Can’t tell where the ache ends and the heat begins. Can’t tell where you end and his skilled fingers begin.

All you know is that Katsuki’s hands are still on you—huge and hot and unrelenting—and that you never want them to stop.

You’re starting to forget the ache.

Not because it’s gone, but because it’s changed, morphed into something else under his hands. It’s still there, but not sharp. Not angry. Just… full. Blooming warm in your chest and pooling low in your belly like syrup, like honey slowly melting down a spoon.

You breathe again. Really breathe. And it comes out shaky, lips parted against the pillow, lashes fluttering in the candlelight.

“Fuck,” you whisper. Not directed at him. Not even really a word. Just a sound of surrender.

Katsuki shifts behind you, and you feel it—his weight bearing down gently on the back of your thighs, his thighs bracketing yours now, his body closer than it was before. Still clothed. Still in control. But not distant.

Never distant.

You feel his breath brush across the back of your neck a second before his lips do.

A soft press. Nothing more. Just warmth. Just acknowledgement.

“I know you’re tired,” he murmurs, voice low, sticky with quiet tenderness and worn-down. “But you can’t let yourself get like this.”

You nod—barely—but he sees it. He always sees you. Even when you try not to be seen.

“I’m here,” he says. “You got a boyfriend to fix your back anytime”

It’s simple. Not romantic, not flowery. Just your usual Katsuki. 

His palms flatten against your waist again, spreading out like wings, dragging slow and deliberate as they glide up your sides. They pass over the swells of your breasts without urgency this time, just pressure and heat and familiarity, before curling over your shoulders. His thumbs dip under your arms, into the softest parts of you, and rub gentle, grounding circles.

You lean into it. Into him.

“You don’t have to fix everything,” you murmur, voice hushed against the pillow. His hands still. Not gone. Just still.

You call out his name, almost sheepishly, sleep dragging a voice that’s ready to complain, in contrast to your previous statement. You pout even, “Don’t stop babe i'm sore” 

Katsuki exhales through his nose, and it sounds like a laugh, except it’s lower. Thicker. Like he’s trying not to let on how fond he is of you when you get like this tired and whiny and melting beneath his hands like you were made to be touched and felt up by him.

“Yeah?” he mutters, and you hear the smirk even before you feel it. “Thought I didn’t gotta fix everything.”

You nuzzle your cheek deeper into the pillow, refusing to dignify that with an answer.

He hums. His thumbs move again, slow, small circles into the soft spot just below your shoulder blades. You sigh, finally loud and satisfied again—and he shakes his head like he’s trying to be annoyed, even as his hands keep coaxing little, blissed-out sounds from your throat.

“Back’s all locked up like you’re made of concrete. What the hell’ve you been carryin’ around?”

You shrug lazily, the motion barely registering. “Life?”

“Yeah,” he mutters, more to himself than to you. “Too much of it.”

He shifts again, the bed dipping as his weight adjusts. One arm slides beneath your stomach, anchoring you gently, while the other keeps working slow and steady down your spine. Every stroke is fixated to every dip of your back like he’s trying to draw something out of you. Not just the tension. The tired. The worry.

You make another soft, contented noise, and he presses his lips to the side of your neck again—no heat, no rush, just a quiet, grateful touch.

One moment you’re relaxed, open, muscles soft, the dull ache of being rubbed with such pressure weighing you down to complete relaxation and the next—Katsuki’s lips find the edge of your shoulder blade. Smooching once, twice over spots that are oiled up.

He can’t help himself.

The lavender scent. The way your ass is curved upwards, so perky. The oil makes your skin shine in the low light of the candles. The angelic way the music starts sounding as the notes hit your skin like the softest raindrops on flower leaves; He feels himself lean into the fondly softness of the moment, growing hotter by each second. His cock has already started giving him warning throbs inside his briefs.

It’s almost quite dangerous, what you do to him. The sight of you sprawling limp and sleepy and soft under just the touch of his hands. So in a bold movement he smooths his wonders once again over your ass, thumbs parting your legs from the inside of your thighs, just a little. When he pulls back to his original position, vermillion eyes flicker where your slit is, glistening softly, not throbbing quite yet.

The slow drag of his hands, smoothing lower, is parted only by a moment from the pause just above the dip of your ass, where his thumbs rest—hover—like he’s thinking something over. Like he’s holding himself back, the way he always does when he thinks this might be too much, too soon, too selfish of him.

But to assure him, it isn’t, you push your hips back, just a tiny bit. So eager for him as always, even in this vulnerable state.

“Katsuki,” you breathe through a moan slurred, not like a question, not a plea. Just his name. Like you’re granting him permission by calling it out.

It’s all he needs.

His hands firm at your waist again, grip tightening just slightly, a groan catching low in his chest as his body bows over yours. You feel the warm press of his mouth at the nape of your neck, open and slow and wet. Feel his breath, the way it shakes. The way it matches yours.

“You drive me fuckin’ crazy,” he mutters against your skin. “Lyin’ here like this. Soundin’ like that.”

You’d laugh, a soft breathy chuckle, but it comes out like a whimper when his thumbs knead into the meat of your thighs and spread you gently apart. Lavender clings to everything. Your skin, your breath, the air—but now it’s mixed with eerie desire, like it wouldn’t turn out exactly like this when you asked him to rub your back.

His hands don’t rush, like they usually do when his chest is so tight with desire, arousal. They drag over your hips, your waist, until his fingers slide down the sides of your belly and find the edge of your hips again. This time, when he tugs your love handles, doughing them into the pads of his palms, there’s no hesitation. Just soft skin and warm oil peeling away from your skin, pooling on the sheets behind you.

You’re bare. Completely. The candlelight flickers, catching the sheen of sweat and oil across your back, your thighs. Katsuki pours more oil on his palms. You feel it trickle down your spine, between your legs. You feel him there too, kneeling behind you, hovering over you like heat itself.

And when his hands return, when his fingers slide between your thighs and find you already wet, already open—his breath punches out in one low, reverent curse, like he doesn’t remember seeing the way you were glistening when he looked over a second ago.

“Fuck,” he mutters, hands slowly opening your ass cheeks “Look at you.”

You press your face harder into the pillow, hips tilting, thighs spreading wider in a silent invitation you’ve never needed to say aloud with him.

He slides one thick finger through your slick and groans, low and guttural like it hurts. Like he’s the one unraveling.

“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he says, voice rough, dazed, groaning out his words “fuckin’ dripping…”

The first push of his fingers is slow, deliberate—just one at first, thick and sure. Dragging the edge of the knuckle softly against your clit. Your back arches. Your mouth falls open. His other hand braces at your hip, grounding you, owning you.

Then another finger joins the first.

And god, his fingers are just as big as his hands, and you swear they’re made for this. Not gentle, but not rough either. Just pressure. Heat. Depth. The kind of stretch that makes your legs tremble, your body pulse with something deeper than need.

You sob into the pillow, and he shushes you softly—lips at your shoulder, tongue dragging the edge of your skin, teeth sinking in.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he breathes in your ear. “Let me make you feel good.”

You shiver when the pads of his thumbs push on the outter lips of your pussy, spreading you wider for him with that same careful control he uses in a fight—like he knows exactly how much force to use, how far to take it before it ruins you. And maybe you want to be ruined a little.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” Katsuki murmurs, voice nearly gone, wrecked from how hard he’s breathing. His thumbs hold you open while his fingers curl slow, deep—dragging against that spot, under the hood of your clit that makes your thighs jolt, makes your chest squeeze tight. He watches you clench around him, watches the oil and slick mix and drip down to the crease of your thighs. Watches everything with that starved kind of look on his face, biting his lips and scrunching his nose, eyes blown wide like he’s being allowed to witness something sacred.

And he can’t help himself, once again, not to drag his left thumb over your entrance, circling softly, to gather some slick before his finger taps at your other puckered hole, rubbing once, twice, before slowly sinking in.

At the same time, almost, his right pointer finger enters your pussy, the thumb never leaving your clit, always circling it lazily, elliptical.

You both hiss, you at the feeling of both of your holes being entered, him at the feeling of how tightly you clamp around just his fingers.

His cock is furious inside his pants now. Angry at the top and leaking over the spot the tip has settled at.

“Fuuuuck,” he whispers again, this time quieter. Like it’s just for himself. Like he can’t believe how good you feel, how warm and wet and tight you are, clenching down on both fingers like your body’s trying to drag him in deeper.

And he feels like he might as well go insane.

Because it’s not just the way your body reacts to him, not just the way you sob and tremble and push back against his hand like you can’t get enough, though all of that drives him crazy. It’s that you let him see it. Let him touch you here, like this, in this kind of quiet, candlelit intimacy where everything is soft and raw and slow.

Your thighs tremble. Your breath catches.

It’s too much and at the same time, not enough.

His left hand, still slick and strong, adjusts where it holds you open. That finger still lazily and slowly pumping —almost still of movement— in the hole of your ass, teasing in slow, subtle pushes that make your whole spine tense, makes your toes curl into the sheets. And all the while, his right hand works in tandem; pointer finger deep inside your pussy, thumb lazy and steady on your clit like he’s marking time. Like he knows just how fast to take you, just how slow to pull you apart.

You whimper, shamefully loud. 

It’s the kind of sound you’d usually try to bite back, bury into your wrist or his bicep, but Katsuki doesn’t let you this time. He growls at it, low, like a threat, pushes in just a bit deeper, rubbing the pad of his thumb in slow, wet circles against your clit until your hips twitch again.

“There you go,” he mutters. “That’s it. Let me hear it, baby.”

You do. Because you can’t not.

As you carefully wiggle your hips just a little more upwards, you yelp, feeling just a little pain from the thick finger in your ass and it takes all of Katsuki’s humility to gather a ball of spit in his mouth and let it go off, past his raspberry blown lips and onto the slit of your ass. 

His finger exits so, so, so slowly, still you groan at the slight discomfort due to it, making his chest swell, and he catches some of his spit with his finger and enters you again.

Every nerve in your body is lit, every edge of you aching and raw. Katsuki doesn’t let up and with his chest bearing all this excitement and humility that makes his ears red and tingly from seeing you so spread open like this, he doesn’t stop. Just holds you open like you’re something precious and obscene all at once, his fingers working slow and deep until you’re shaking under him, toes curling, face buried in the pillow to keep from sobbing his name.

Suddenly, the bed creaks under his knees as he leans down, dwelling chest brushing your back, breath hot on your neck. His fingers never stop working—sliding deeper, curling, then scissoring your pussy open just slightly as if to test how ready you are for what comes next. He simply rasps at how wet you are, but it’s swallowed under the silky sounds of your squelching.

You feel open, loose, hot to the touch and unable to move, like your lower half has been lost in a cloud of overbearing pleasure.

Then, like you're kicked to the gut and jolted out of your pleasure cloud nine— you feel it. The weight of it.

Katsuki’s cock, hard and heavy, presses against the swell of your ass, sizzling hot even through the thin cotton of his boxers, begging to be set free.

You feel yourself leak, a beady drop of sticky sleek that trails down the lips of your pussy and onto his thumb. He presses down on your clit like it’s a button, squeezing just enough before flicking it, left then right, up then down and all over again until you’re screaming into the pillow.

Your pussy feels like it’s on fire and for once, the finger in your ass is starting to feel way more pleasing than it’s ever felt in the few times you two have tried this.

You feel the steady pulse of his throbbing mushroom tip beneath your skin, a weight that drags and shifts with every careful motion of his hips, like he’s tracing the shape of you without needing to see. Every inch memorized in the heat of this moment.

Slowly and so deliberately, his hands exit out of you with a pop and a treacherous whine from the depths of your chest that drips on your lips and slip to the waistband of his briefs, fingers rough only to himself as they peel the fabric down his thighs, releasing the tight hold. The cool air hits the bare skin of his cock, already glistening with heat and promise, and your breath catches at the sound of his dick hitting his abdomen.

Katsuki shifts closer, lips trailing a feather-light kiss along your shoulder, warm and urgent, grounding and electric all at once. His fingers slip free from where they held you open just moments ago, replaced by the thick, slick head of him pressing between your folds, nestling there like he’s already part of you.

His cockhead on your clit feels like heaven. Everything nice. Big and bulky and heavier than his thumb, it glides over a few, agonisingly slow times, before his voice breaks into speech. 

He finds your clit again, traps it between flesh and fingertip, giving a small, delicious pinch that makes you shiver and arch against him.

“Y’gonna let me in, baby?” he whispers, lips dragging over your shoulder as his fingers slip free, replaced by the thick head of him nestling between your folds again.

You’re going crazy. Aching at the loss of his tip on your entrance. Drool catches at the side of your mouth and spills over the pillow, walls clamping down around thin air. You need him inside you right now or else you’ll combust. You’ve been spread out and toyed with for oh so long.

“Y-yes, please baby, put it in”

His breath fans across your skin, hot and ragged, as he shifts the last bit of distance between you. The head of him presses deeper, teasing the wet, swollen gate of your slit, just at the edge of full surrender. Your body tightens, trembling with the delicious agony of waiting.

Then, painfully slow, he pushes inside you, past the tight rim of your entrance—inch by inch, and so deliberate, a tender invasion that makes your chest rise and fall in ragged gasps. The heat of him floods you, filling every ache and hollow with only his tip that's pouring clear precum like a river. A vein on his cock throbs, catches close to your g-spot and you moan at the feeling, your clit throbbing like its on fire, by the action.

Katsuki’s hot hands slide down your hips, gripping firm enough to anchor you but gentle enough to let you melt beneath him. His lips find the curve of your neck, pressing soft, chaste kisses that trail lower—each one a quiet confession, a promise stitched into flesh. He bucks into you again, broken breath and a rhythm to match it, hips far from even stuttering against you.

All Katsuki can think right now as he looks down at his hands on your plush skin is that he loves you. All blown out and barely spread open as he pushes your ass close, chanting his name as he feels you trap his veiny cock inside your walls. He couldn’t keep his hands off you for a second and it’s like a blessing that you asked him to massage you. A curse too, because he knew he wouldn’t hold back from turning it into sex even if he tried.

With every -barely- measured thrust, you feel his chest swell against your back, pounding with something more than desire—a love so raw and fierce it almost hurts. His cock drags deep inside you, the slow rhythm setting fire to every nerve, every whisper of skin-on-skin.

He buries his face into your shoulder, breath hitching, biting onto your earlobe and sucking before he speaks, voice thick and vulnerable at once. “Love you babe.”

Your body trembles, caught between the sweet sting of pleasure and the weight of his words. You press back into him, aching to close the distance, to be lost in the overwhelming pull of this moment—where every touch, every breath, every heartbeat says you.

“Love you too” you whisper, finally.

You gasp when he grinds deeper, and he groans like he’s hurting, like it physically aches how much he wants to make this last.

And then he starts kissing you. Everywhere.

“I gotchu babe, let go” he whimpers “You’re killin’ me,” he breathes. “Feels so good—I just wanna stay here, baby, please—lemme just…”

His hips stutter and you feel him shake into your sore neck, just a little—and his lips press harder, tighter, to your shoulder as he groans your name into your skin like a vow. Like he’s praying and you're his only god.

Your hand reaches back blindly, desperate to touch him, to grab at something real, with your face still squished into the pillow and he catches the movement, brings one of his hands to match yours and threads your fingers together without a second of hesitation. His hand tangles with yours above the pillow. Fingers sticky with lavender oil and need, pressing into yours like he needs the anchor. The other stays at your hip, guiding you back into him with the same rhythm he holds in battle—steady, devastating.

You can feel the way his heart beats against your back when he leans in close. Can hear the way his breath hitches when you let out a soft moan into the pillow, hips pushing back into his, seeking more.

His grip is tight, grounding. A promise made in the trembling space between sweating and hot skin.

You feel every inch of him, not just inside you, in the squelching in and out and the sound of skin slapping, but around you, covering you, his chest flush and hot on your back, the way his arm tighten around your waist like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he doesn’t hold you close enough.

With every thrust, he leans in, chest brushing your back, lips dragging kisses along the curve of your shoulder, your neck, the back of your ear. His breath is warm and ragged, but his mouth is gentle. If saying ‘I love you’ wasn’t enough, his cock spells it out inside you, like he can’t stop saying the phrase without saying it out loud.

“You’re killin’ me,” he mutters, kissing the nape of your neck, voice breaking against your skin. “Don’t even know what you do to me.”

Katsuki’s hips roll again, and you gasp more from the emotion than the sensation. You’re so full, he’s so deep in it almost hurts. But he’s so tender with it. You feel him kiss your shoulder again, then the spot just underneath your ear. You shiver under the weight of it, under the heat of his breath.

“Can’t get close enough to you,” he mutters, almost like he’s mad at himself for trying. “You’re all I fuckin’ think about.”

You reach for him with your other hand as well, fingers searching behind you until your hand finds his forearm. Taut, huge as always and trembling from the control he’s holding. You clutch him there, and he groans at the contact, your nails dig in and he’s thrusting just a little deeper, a little slower.

Each time his hips meet yours, your breath stutters, your throat tight with the aching swell of something bigger than arousal. It’s overwhelming—the way he fills you, how soft he’s being, how quiet and gentle he is when usually he’s all noise and heat and thunder. But now? There’s no room for temper now. And if he’s always just slightly embarrassed and aroused by that feeling in the bedroom, this time, it’s becoming something worse. His belly tightens, stomach tight and numb and falling like he’s been punched.

That bubbling feeling is travelling straight to his cock, making him impossibly hard, letting the start of an orgasm shimmer, his balls tightening so much he can feel it.

You can feel it where his hard abs brush your back, where his nose presses into your shoulder blade, where his hips move with more emotion than rhythm. His voice is cracking, his fingers are squeezing yours for dear life.

But the way he is fucking into you, is not rough, nor fast. It’s worship. Slow and delicious.

Every inch of his body sings with it, matching the soft song in the background. Every part of him is working to memorize a body he already knows like the back of his hand—not just how you feel around him, but the sound of your voice when you gasp, the way your hand tightens in his when the pleasure crests too high, the way your breath stutters when he kisses the back of your neck like he’s saying sorry for every time he ever doubted he’d deserve this.

He doesn’t even know what’s gotten into him right now.

It’s probably that he only feels safe when you touch him, when he touches you. It’s probably that the feeling of your skin on his is unlike any touch that he despises in this world. The hand you're digging your nails in is scarred, littered with skin tissue that’s newer, tissue that isn't going to match his old skin no matter how many years pass. And even though he hates looking at it, his cock throbs inside you at the sight of your bodies connecting there.

And it’s in every groan that leaves his lips, every kiss he drags across your spine, every tremble in his arms as he pulls you impossibly closer, like he needs your bodies fuse when he fucks you fron the back like a sin. Slowly, never picking up pace, likes he’s fucking you through it instead of towards it.

Your stomach feels likes it’s dropping, adorned in adoration, his love laced rhythm, that slow-motion hammering way he’s fucking you with is messing with your mind and body in delicious ways.

You’re almost at your breaking point.

Your breath catches again, again as the tension rises unbearably, a string pulled tighter and tighter through every snug and wet thrust, every kiss he plants tenderly, along your back 

Katsuki’s forehead falls to your shoulder. He’s barely trembling by an inch but you feel it. Not from strain, not from fatigue, but from the way this is undoing him. And fucking hell if this isnt the hottest sex youve had in a while.

There’s no fight for dominance, no cockiness, just tenderness. Him not being close to you enough, you not being close to him enough either.

He desperately wants you two to merge into one.

You can hear it in his voice when he speaks next. Not a growl, not a command. Just a whisper. Frayed, cracked, raw.

“Can’t—can’t believe I get to touch you like this.”

The words split you open somewhere deeper than sore muscle. Because it’s not just the way he’s moving inside you, it’s the way his heart feels like it’s pulsing against your spine, the way he’s holding you like you’re both breakable.

You're scared for a second, that he's going to get irregular heart palpitations again, but the thought is pushed away when his lips brush your ear. “Your pussy 's so tight. Fuck...I’m not gonna last long if you keep squeezing me like that.”

But he doesn’t make a move to pull away despite his words. Doesn’t even speed up. If anything, he presses in closer. Slower. Like he’s trying to memorize this exact second—the shape of your back under his chest, the soft pull of your fingers on his scarred forearm, the hitch in your breath that comes every time his hips roll forward.

You can feel the tremble in his thighs now. The catch in his rhythm. You’re so close, just on the edge, and he knows it. You know he is too. But he’s holding it back like he’s trying to stretch this moment out forever, like climaxing would mean letting go and he doesn’t want to let go.

But oh—you can feel it coming, like thunder on the horizon.

It coils in your belly, winds tighter with every breathless thrust. Slow, grounding, devastating in its tenderness. Katsuki’s mouth is at your shoulder again, dragging crazed open-mouthed kisses along your skin, the base of your hair, drunk on the scent of lavender and your skin like it’s an aphrodisiac.

You think you hear him whisper your name. Just your name. Not even his usual ‘babe’ like it’s the only word he remembers how to say, but it’s so cracked and under his breath you can’t pinpoint it over the sound of your own heart beating in your ears.

His cock pulses deep inside you, catching the perfect angle of your g-spot and it’s so hard now it aches, dragging against every place that makes you cry out, stretch, tremble. He’s still slow. Still careful. Always clinging to you like the act of letting go might mean waking up from this.

His arms wrap tighter around you. His scarred hand finds your chest from underneath you , just above your heart, and stays there, pressing down like he needs to feel every beat. His other is tangled over yours, fingers still locked tight, sweaty and trembling and unrelenting.

“Katsuki—” you choke, and he moans like your voice alone just finished him. A total fatality.

“I know, baby,” he breathes. “I know—‘m right here, come f—ah— for me. Let me fucking feel you. Say it babe, say you wanna come and I’ll —fuck, I’ll get you there”

“Wanna come on your cock Katsuki, feels s’good”

“Let go babe, ‘m here, I got ya” he whispers against your ear.

“Please… please, mhmm”

You shudder under him, your legs trembling as you reach that edge and go right over, your whole body clenching, fluttering around him, pulling him deeper as everything breaks open inside you. Your cry is caught in the pillow, but he feels it. Feels you squeeze, feels your hips arch, your back press flush against him, feels your ass fill out the space on his v-line.

And then he loses it. Sweat drips from his forehead and it takes all of his restraint to not let anything in his body ignite his quirk right now. You feel so good, so wet, so hot around him. 

He sinks as deep as he can go and stays there, buried, kissing your cervix with his leaky tip, forehead pressed between your shoulder blades, one long broken sound leaving his chest as his body jolts once, twice, into yours.

You feel him come inside you. Hot. Filling out every tight spot his cock doesn’t kiss in you. And still, he doesn’t stop holding you.

His breath is a mess against your skin. Lips still find you in the aftermath—your shoulder, the side of your neck, the shell of your ear. Your cheek. His arms won’t stop shaking. Neither will yours.

But he doesn’t move. He goes still. Stiff like his whole body is cramping.

Minutes pass like this. Breathing each other in. Skin to skin. Not a single space left between you as he pushes you with his hand from underneath you, into his chest.

You shift your head, enough to reach for him with your mouth, just barely brushing your lips to his knuckles where your fingers are still laced together.

“Babe—Kats,” you breathe, lunges closing in, a hint of guilt closing in as you know he has no other way to make you feel he means it when he says he loves you “I love you so much but I’ll pass out”

“Yeah, yeah, just let me—” he shifts a little, just to pull out, dragging his hand just enough to flip you over as he lays on the bed “all good now. Love you”

Katsuki catches your cheeks and presses a tiny kiss to the apples of both your squished cheeks. He flattens you against his chest with that same arm—the one that pulled you through it all. His hand is spread wide over your back like he’s trying to cover every inch of you.

Your cheek rests against his collarbone, lips parted, lashes damp. You feel the flutter of his pulse against your mouth, a part of you, the one that’s worried about his heart, tries to count how many times his heart beats in sixty seconds.

“I can’t feel my thighs,” you murmur, the words slurred, not really a complaint, when you decide his heart is pumping just fine.

“Shut up,” he says, but it’s all rasp, no bite. His lips press to your sticky forehead like punctuation.

You hum a soft laugh against his chest, then pout as you hold and squeeze onto his peck, kissing the outer rim of his scar over and over again. “No, really. I think I forgot how to walk, you’re gonna have to massage me all oooover again”

~All rights reserved: @/strawberry-nugget, 2025. Please do not copy, over write or steal my work.

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[nanamisgirly]

‘fucking two bad bitches at the same damn time’ and it’s just the tall chubby reader going straight for the most opposite men to exist, but apparently share the exact same type of woman. who would have thought the captain of the hockey team—inked, mean, pierced with a mouth made for sin—and Mr. Top of the Class—quiet, clean-cut, who opens door for strangers—would be into you?

tall, soft and so fucking thick their hands can't stay still. your tits spill over nanami's fingers as he cups them like they're fragile, thumbs brushing your nipples while his lips ghost over your jaw. you're trembling bent forward on your elbows, back arched, tits swaying in nanami's hand with every brutal thrust from behind—sukuna pounding into your sloppy cunt with that mean, pierced cock while the blonde man groans from above.

"open up, sweetheart," nanami murmurs, thumb brushing your bottom lip as you tilt your head back to look at him. "you're doing so good for us." sukuna's cock is hot and heavy, dragging against your walls as he sinks into you inch by inch—so many inches. you feel the cold sting of metal just at the base of his tip. his hips slap hard against your ass, making it widely jiggle—your cries muffled when nanami slips his thick veiny cock past your lips.

"you feel this cock, baby?" sukuna growls. "feel the piercing? bet no one's ever fucked that tight pussy like that." you moan around nanami's cock—deep and desperate—he gasps, one hand cradling your jaw while the other comes at your throat, squeezing the right amount to make your head spin. "you're incredibly beautiful." nanami says

your body's bouncing between them now—one in your mouth, one splitting you open, both raging and hungry cocks. one has a hand in your hair and the other on your belly.

"you like this?" sukuna grunts, smacking your ass hard enough to leave a print. "getting wrecked by two opposite motherfuckers who wanna do nothing but fuck you stupid? thought about this every time you walked by in those leggings. could see every jiggle, every curve—fuck,"

"don't be cruel," nanami huffs, but he's breathless, trying to control his hand on your throat—not squeezing too hard. "you're doing so well for us. you're gorgeous, honey. you're so good." sukuna snorts and grabs a handful of your belly, dragging you back into his thrusts. "you hear that? got this pretty boy's voice telling you sweet things while I fuck the slut outta you."