#He’s the reason I know that belly bulge is real when they go hard and fast enough

[oreo-creampie]

Every time my hubby wishes he was another inch longer I’m grateful he isn’t, because my god I’m feeling those seven inches beneath my belly button

[iwaasfairy]

┌─ “ ! „ CADAVER

tw. wound fucking, blood, gore, don’t read this if you’re squeamish!!, somnophilia, oral, noncon, megumi is delusional in this, yandere, belly bulge but gross! , cannibalistic thoughts wordcount. 6.4k

a/n. this one,,, was me pushing myself to just go buck wild, and channel my inner junji, and i think i got somewhere with it... a select few of you will understand me when i say that ,, this is like my love letter to megumi fr ♡ like i said though, this one might be the one that has people a little yucked out but! it's basically my halloween fic, for the spooky month

fushiguro megumi x fem!reader

When the rattling of the stretcher finally quiets in the halls and the rising rate of adrenaline starts to flatten out, Megumi’s lost on what to do. Any of the other sorcerers can’t decide what the next step is either, it seems. Yuji with his back pressed against the glass and staring off into the empty part of the hall they just came from, and principal Yaga a stern quietness and arms crossed. Ieiri-san will do her best work today of any days if there’s anything to be done about it, but Megumi can tell. That uncertainty hangs over all of them as the faint breathing of a collapsed body grows more pitched and panicked.

Megumi always sort of hated you. He didn’t like you from the second he first met you, and it just grew and grew and grew from there. He hates your stupid demeanor with your higher-than-thou morals and your sky-high milestones and that grin that could make even the coldest heart split in two. It doesn’t escape him that this is the same reason he always did enjoy Maki, but you were — more recognizable to him, and yet somehow much further away.

He always hated the way he’d catch himself watching the soft motion of your lashes, or how your mouth would form words, the heat that would carry color to your face. He always hated the quiet moments you’d sit by his side, rattling his heart out of his chest and laughing at him for his hot cheeks; and he always hated how you’d be the thought on his mind right after he’d made sure his own limbs hadn’t yet been blown to bits. But standing with his hands covered in a coating of blood that isn’t his, dripping onto the panes of the old flooring, he wonders what that hatred ever really got him. It never helped him understand you better, that for someone so alike himself, you were so much better at everything.

His chest is rising and falling too fast.

Gojo’s too late, always is when it comes down to the wire, Megumi thinks as the lankier man rushes through and stops a few feet away from them. Yaga’s brow pinches, before he lifts his head the slightest bit to acknowledge the white blond. “What’s the status,” Gojo has to ask, and before he has another conscious thought, Megumi’s furiously rubbing his hands over his sweater in an attempt to get the blood off while his teeth clack with how hard he’s clenching them. There’s a thickness between his ears that makes everything sound far off. The blood stains his fingers the more he rubs, and his face gets hotter and hotter as it lasts.

But he thinks he hears the principal explain.

How you had been pinned down and knocked clean out, head bashed against the concrete pillars. How Megumi had been too busy trying and failing to keep the uglier curse from blasting you both to shit, to notice. How the other special grade had picked you up by the neck and unceremoniously shoved something into your mouth and pushed until it went down your throat - until you started convulsing, spitting out blood and bile before he could reach you. Megumi hadn’t taken the time to look then, but he knows now what it was, slimy, decaying contents of a little vial that had gone missing a few months ago.

“The girl must’ve been a real good match.” Yaga pushes his fingers to his brow, as if forcibly trying to push the frown down. “Ieiri’s doing what she can.” It doesn’t make any of them feel better when Gojo clicks his tongue and aims his eyes at the door, before casting a quick glance at Megumi under thick, blond lashes. He wants to puke. He’d shoved his fingers down your throat for what felt like hours, trying desperately to get you to throw up the curse. Had carried you all the way back while you were sobbing and wailing in pain. Nothing.

If even the worst case repeats itself, they’ll have another incarnation on their hands, and the noose will be tightened around your throat. Yuji must have already realized this, because he’s yet to say anything since you’d been tied onto the stretcher with blood pouring out of your nose and ears and coughing up grime. Megumi’s not even sure if Ieiri would hesitate to put you down without a second warning before it gets to the same turning point. And he is pissed. At the situation, his friends, himself, you. He’s so angry his hands shake, and so angry tears start stinging behind his eyes, feeling like any motion might cause him to throw up. He hates you.

+

Your chest’s rising with big motions up and down, up and down, as you drum your feet on his bedsheets like an excited rabbit. Megumi grunts, snatches the book from your hands and tosses it back down with the others that were not-so-neatly stacked on his desk. Your shape on his bed makes a dent in his mind that he’ll have to keep replaying over and over when he closes his eyes, and it has a frown pulling his eyebrows down automatically. “So grumpy,” you yawn, and also roll over onto your stomach to tuck your legs to your core, lifting one hand to rest your face into it.

“This isn’t your room.”

“Might as well be,” you giggle back, and he watches for a moment as your hair falls along your shoulders in a gentle brush, making you look even more enchanting. You’re soft and parts of you are shiny like silk, seemingly oozing your rosy, peachy aura all over his stuff. You catch his eyes for just a few breaths, still rising your chest too distractingly, before you push yourself up and slide off the bed to walk up to him. He pivots to thumb through the notes on his desk again, to be farther away from your face probably, and his shoulders rise into an uncomfortable pinch when you approach, feet patting on his floor. “Megumi.” You say his name with a clear pout.

Then heat covers his skin at the base of his throat and he freezes, letting the way you drag your soft lips over his pulse fill him up entirely. His hands shake too hard to keep a grip on the paper, so he spins you around and shoves you back against the desk as you hiss at the sudden painful grip, his fist wrapped into the collar of your shirt. “I already told you to stop doing that.” He hisses, and your eyes are wide and glittering like diamonds, beautiful color peering up at him.

“But you like it when I do that,” you whisper back ever so softly, and his head feels like it’s splitting at the seams, cracking his skull under a non-escapable pressure. He can’t think, can’t even eat normally without the ghost of you hanging over him and shaking him up. It’s unbearable even when you’re not around. His fist unclenches from the flimsy fabric to instead grip your chin with his thumb, and his heart bangs against his ribcage harder than can be normal. Harder than is healthy. A little thought in the back of his skull begs to push. Just once, deny you from digging your claws deeper into him— but he’s already melted to your shape before he can blink.

His face drops like you’re magnetic, thighs pushing you further into the desk and also into him; and it’s truly embarrassing that his hands are still shaking like they do. You lean in when he does, and let your lips meet his hungry, treacherous mouth, other hand sliding to your waist to pull you closer. Your tongue brushes his and he implodes inside, and he swears it hurts to be this close to you.

Not that you care. Your arms wind around his neck to pull him even closer, and his blood feels like it’s boiling under his skin.

+

He finds himself wandering back to the quieter wing of the school when the sun’s already dipped far past the horizon, and the cold starts picking up. He’s dragging his feet, so he won’t fucking rush back to the room he finds himself thinking about so fast he stumbles. He’s glaring at the patterns in the floorboards so he doesn’t cry. You’re stable- quiet puffs of air escaping your nose every few seconds, but you’re still under surveillance. As far as the clans are concerned, they’ll put something sharp between your eyes sooner rather than later, before whatever’s slumbering inside you wakes up. But Gojo’s fighting for you. It makes him grimace to think about.

Knocking his knuckles onto the doorframe, he enters the dimly lit room. Nanami doesn’t stand when he spots him, but does uncross his legs as he takes a deep breath. Neither of them speak for a while, and the dark haired man takes that time to run his eyes over you. You’re not as dirty as you were when you first got back, shivering and shaking. You’re no longer dripping with blood, though he’s sure if he were to look close enough, he’d still be able to see flecks of it between your cracked lips. As he walks up, he finds himself thinking that you look strangely peaceful, and that doesn’t seem entirely right.

Save for the bloody mark that seems branded into your forehead, you look like you’re quietly sleeping on the metal slab that supports your body. After all the pain and agony you’ve caused in him, sleepless nights and long days of wondering, hoping you’d be okay. Why is it that he’s the one affected by you? Why is it that he’s the one who’s going to have to say goodbye again? He stares at your unmoving form as if that’ll give him an answer, but it doesn’t. And the pit in his stomach swells again. He’s just so angry all the time. Megumi breathes out. “It’s my turn to take watch for a while.”

“You’re early,” Nanami’s deep baritone chastises, but he gets up from the seat anyway. He smooths out the wrinkles in his suit, before slowly placing a hand on the other’s shoulder. The weight is heavy, and somehow doesn’t soothe him at all. But there’s an attempt, he guesses. He’s still not entirely sure why everyone is looking at him like he’s the one who needs it most, broken and disheveled and mourning. He’s been able to finish his tasks like everyone else has, and he can banish the thought of you when he’s supposed to focus on work— at least, mostly. He doesn’t need the fucking pity. “Want some coffee? Or green tea?” Nanami asks, letting his hand slide off when Megumi shrugs.

“No. I’m okay.”

The older man seems to hesitate, simply nodding when he walks past. Before closing the door behind him, he once again clears his voice, and Megumi turns over his shoulder. The blond has this look in his eyes, of pity, as he talks. “Megumi, there’s a chance she pulls through.” Why again - that fucking pity? “Don’t give up.” Though it makes him tingle with an unbearable sort of itch deep under the skin, he grits his teeth, and his brain’s hot and irritated when he responds.

“I wasn’t going to.” Nanami doesn’t seem to believe him, but still softly slides the door closed behind him, and when the footsteps grow softer and softer, Megumi allows for a second to collect himself. He braces his hands onto the metal as he leans in, close enough to feel just the slightest bit of your warmth on his fingers, and see the way you’re still breathing, though shallow, too faint for his liking. His brows pinch when he finds himself with his forehead pressed to your stomach, hunched over like he’s praying at your shrine or something. But he can’t help it.

As much time as he spent beside you with a frown on his face, it never feels enough. He can’t stay away, like it’s an involuntary thing— you leave him no choice in the matter. Even here in the darkness, whining softly into your wheezed breaths, it isn’t enough to be beside you. He can’t do anything from here at your bedside; and that uselessness makes him feel even more uneasy. He needs to be closer to you. Wants to be so close you two get stuck together and melt together like an inseparable entity, would want to crawl inside you if he could.

His nose presses into the clean shirt that smells like your laundry, as he clenches his fists so hard along the table edge they start to ache. His eyes are pressed closed tight when he allows him just a second to nose below your sternum, and that uncomfortable stinging sensation comes back to his eyes. “Fucking idiot,” his lips brush against your covered skin, taking in the lack of heat, of your smell and the way you sounded with his face buried there, “I didn’t mean it.”

+

“Aw, ow, ow, Megumi~” You pout with a pitched whine as his hand stays screwed around your knee for a little longer, keeping you trapped under his heavier, taller body so that you start wiggling. Your head falls back against his arm, and you lean to press a few kisses to his wrist that’s holding your own to the floor. “Be more gentle.” You pout when you pull back and flash him that fucking look that sends icy shivers down his spine, and exactly nothing else. “You can be gentle, can’t you?” Every other part of him flushes with heat under your doe-eyed, pitiful look, definitely when you start wiggling out of his grasp like you’re suddenly over the game.

You started it. He wouldn’t put himself in your range on purpose. When you’re about halfway out from under his crouched form, you sit up to be face to face; and you brush your hand past his ear, down his jaw and neck and trail his collarbones, all places he’s convinced are now stained a bright, obnoxious pink from his flush. You let your fingers linger when you tilt your head aside a bit so you can slot your lips over his into a sweet, little kiss, and you pull your lips into another pout. “Swear you’re doing it to hurt me sometimes. I’m never trying to hurt you, you know.” A few strands of hair fall over your eye when you sit below him, and he has to fight every single muscle in his body not to push it back for you.

He wants to see your eyes. He wants you to see him like this, pinned under you like the attraction you render him as— his body collapses on top of you as you start giggling all fucking cutely, and his heart races more than it ever has. Your heartbeat drums into his face when he buries it into your softness, chest against his cheek, too long for his own sanity before he drags himself off you. And it is a drag. His entire body starts feeling sluggish when you’re this close to him, close enough to drown himself in your scent. He won’t ever say it, but that scent gets him hard and awfully mellow all at once, his cock coming to life in his pants before he’s moving.

You look happy. Your eyes are those bright, gentle colors that rain down on him, and your lips are quirked into a soft smile, you must know what you’re doing to him. Setting him up for failure again. He huffs and pushes himself onto his back instead, knocking his head to the floor while you’re moving from the rug - splaying your knees either side of him before you nuzzle right back on top of his chest and make it even harder to get a breath, let alone catch it. He’s sure he’s panting a little when you leave your warmth draped all over him, and you don’t do anything other than be there.

His arms are still on the floor, his body rigid under you, but you’re softly giggling into his peck before he frowns down at you again when you catch his eyes. “What?”

“Your heart is beating super fast,” you admit, not proud, not gloating - just stating the fact, and heat overtakes his neck now too. Instead of letting you wind him up any further, he bucks you off and switches positions again, now with your two wrists caught in his hands as you squeak with the ache that probably lodges in your back.

“Can you get off of me?” He sits back on his feet, not letting go of your hands yet, before your eyes flutter and you grab him back. Well, brush your fingers over the skin you can reach, pawing at him just enough to tickle. “What’s with you today?” he bites back, and also snatches his hands back to escape the onslaught of feelings that wash over him. You don’t sit up this time, and from the tilt of your head, you’re considering your answer for a while before you speak out.

“Do you like me, Megumi?” Fuck. His room seems to collapse in on itself. Or, maybe it’s his body— because he gets a little more short of breath, and his thoughts short circuit as his mouth stupidly drops open. He’s choked up for long enough that he has to clear his voice to try an answer, and even then, he gets stuck. You’re studying him so closely it must show. The blaring warmth that fills him up and makes his ears bright red. After another second, your eyes seem to dim slightly, as you push your cheek to your shoulder, opening yourself up to even more attacks. “Love y’, ‘gumi.”

+

He straightens up with enough tightness in his chest to choke him, makes his eyes sting and his head blare cold, painful warnings— he grabs some of the glasses from the small table beside him, launches it straight into the wall until it shatters into a million pieces upon impact. The loud clang doesn’t do anything to settle his anger, where he fists his hands into his hair and pulls, in hopes the worry will somehow vanish.

“Why do you always have to be such a hero?” he hisses, even though you can’t answer now, “wouldn’t it have been enough to just stay here with me?!” He tilts your face to his and drops his lips to yours, and that familiar softness is enough to have him clenching his eyes shut again against the tears. He kisses you until your mouth opens a bit, then slides his tongue up against yours and grips your shoulders, pulling your limp body towards him more. “I’ll be better to you.” He pleads. You don’t move, and the breaths going over his cheeks are so shallow.

But he can’t stop himself from tangling your tongue with his, licking into your mouth and chasing the warmth until he runs out of breath. You’re so fucking pretty still. He kisses you again, bumping teeth, and grips your hip hard as he lays over you a little more, chest to chest and feeling it brush against him with each soft pant he lets out, each gravelly moan. It doesn’t hurt so much to brush his tongue against yours, to swallow your taste on his tongue until his lips numb — but while it doesn’t ache, it’s also not enough. Before he’s able to think about the morality of his actions, his thumbs are hooking under your shirt and pushing it up, over your soft belly and ribcage all the way up until it’s over your tits, where his lips travel to as soon as the skin’s exposed. You’re so soft still, too.

He’s not sure what he’s doing other than leaving messy, open mouth kisses onto you, kneading your skin between his hands as all the warmth in his body pools into his groin. Your tits are sucked into his mouth, one then the other, as he rubs his face into the doughy skin, then he’s pulling and pinching at your tits like he knows makes you whimper. The sound’s burned into his working memory, and it drives him on to run his face down your soft body to the part where your thighs meet. The skin just above your skirt of the softest, warmest, and he full on moans when his cock twitches hard in his pants and he reaches down to grab himself.

Normally you’d be blinking up at him now, sending him that little look with grabby hands, ready to wrap your puffy lips around him— it’s different when it’s his hand screwed around himself and not even moving yet. he can’t, or he’ll cum in his pants, and he’s not going to waste his cum like that when your warm pussy’s right before him. He’s shaky when he pushes the fabric up, flipping it over your tummy; and groans again when he licks down your panties and mouths at the seat of it. It tastes so much like you his eyes roll back, and his knees give a little, while more precum leaks out of him and into his pants.

He frees his hands momentarily to slide you to the edge of the metallic table, two hands gripping your butt and squeezing, then hooking his finger in your panties to just pull them aside. He doesn’t care about the chaffing he’ll have. Not even a second thought when your little pussy is in front of him, and he pushes his mouth to you for some open mouthed kisses, down to your pussy and back up. Wrapping his mouth around your clit, he sucks hard, and rubs the bud a few times with his tongue. He swears your breathing goes more pitched and heavier when he does, when his fingers trail down your puffier lips to rub the bit of wetness around.

His cock’s painfully hard in his pants, and after a few more times licking you up and down so that your slick covers the entire bottom half of his face, he pushes the zipper down and then takes himself out to watch how red and sore the head of his cock already is, oozing pre and coating both his boxers and his shaft. He spits into his hand to give himself a few tight-wrung pumps, tighter than he likes normally- if he doesn’t, he’ll spill all over your cute, little pussy. He pushes his fingertips inside your now wetter cunt, watching it wink and beg for something to fill, and groans when one finger slides in with ease.

Your soft walls are still soft and hot around him, giving mean licks over your clit again and again in a way that would normally overstimulate you too easily. You don’t whimper or whine now, take his finger nice and sweet inside your squelching, gooey walls, only making a little noise when he slides in a second and he can feel the slight bit of stretching you need. He’s dripping onto the table now, balls tight and heavy - imagines how you moan and look when you’re sucking on them and you smack your lips with each open mouthed kiss or lick. You between his legs is always enough to have his knees giving, and it’s no different now, he has to hold himself up against you before he thinks better of it.

You’re slid back on the table too easily, making room for him when he pushes one of your legs aside— and let out a slight gasp when he hoists himself over your body. He just wants you. So bad. It’s not so embarrassing when you’re not awake to see how fucking crazy he looks, flushed, cock twitching between his legs as he strains to kiss you again, lick over your tongue for more of your taste, and breathes your name. “Baby, fuck- I need to be inside you.” He wants to hide away in your safety forever. A crystalline, fucked up thought springs up in his mind for just a second, but he banishes that with a few blinks.

Instead he lines himself up over your hot, needy pussy and pushes inside just the head at first, grunting tightly at the softness that envelops him. His whole body shudders as he pushes in deeper, feeling that pit in his stomach expand with each inch that he goes deeper, tangles his fingers with yours when he bottoms out and fills you up so well. You’re curled into his touch, and he kisses you, his thoughts blanking as he pulls back, and snaps his hips back inside you. You’re hot and wet and it feels so fucking good, clenching your hand inside his larger one. It’s not fair. He’s losing his mind, and you’re always the end of him.

His cock rubs against your swollen insides with rough, imprecise strokes — he doesn’t mean to, it’s just that trying to focus on anything other than the heat as he slides in and out of your tight pussy is too much. You’re too much; you’re haunting him even now. He kisses down your face to your neck, sucks on your skin and bites down hard enough to make a serious mark, wanting to hear you cry. Normally, you’d cry out his name so pretty, dig your nails into his back until he’s letting you go and grinding back on his cock, but you can’t do that now. His cockhead bumps your spot each time he fucks himself into you further, but it’s not enough.

It’s never been enough. He wants to be closer to you, and that horrible image that was launched into his head creeps back up before his eyes, bloody and horrible. Maybe he always told himself that he hated you because - no matter how much he fought, he would never be able to stomach actually hurting you as much as it hurts him. But now, withering on top of you as his cock thumps with how much blood rushes south, everything else falls away. He wants to claw and bite and carve his way to your insides and make you pay just a little for his sins. His body is coated in a thin sheen of sweat, thighs pumping blood through his body to his lungs, his gut, his cock.

He pulls out of you to kiss down your tits and over your covered ribs, thumbing over the head of his cock and gliding it over your puffy clit, your wet pussy lips and flicking it just in and out of your drooling cunt— before he puts a sloppy few kisses there too, tongue coated in slick. The blood pumps through his head so hard he feels dizzy, pounding behind his eyes as the heat of your cunt overwhelms him entirely. It’s too hard to stay sane -he’s never felt less sane than now- when you’re laying below him like this, ready to leave him all alone. You wormed your way into his heart when he didn’t want it, and now, now that’s all about to end.

His mouth is dry, but he’s drooling as he grips your thigh and kneads the doughy skin of your tummy— looking so soft and warm and perfectly shaped for him. He wants -needs, needs it, to feel you swallow him, ruin him- to cut you open and eat your insides out with the sick force of what he’s feeling right now— he groans your name again, desperately trying and failing to get it out of his head— the more he tries the better it feels to think it. Despite having his fist around the base of his cock, stings of white shoot over your body as he crumples in on himself and paints you with his cum. He’s still hard though, painfully so, and as soon as he’s done cumming he can already feel the building urge to do it again, trailing his shaking fingers down to your clenching pussy and rubbing your clit until your body starts wiggling back just a little too.

Megumi wants to go, bury this urge down and never think of it again. He really does— but it’s like he’s possessed, drooling over your body and flicking his cock in and out of your pussy without sliding back in. He might’ve had it wrong this whole time, but if this is love - God, he loves you, he loves, loves, loves you so much he’s not ever going to have enough. Can’t ever say goodbye, not when his entire soul’s been bound to yours, has been rotted away into nothing like this. There’s only you, and him; and he can’t get close enough to make this fucking feeling go away.

With black spots swimming over his vision, he’s not sure what he’s doing until he’s knelt on the floor and shards of glass cut his knees open through his pants; he doesn’t feel it - just trembles as he gets one of the larger shards and crawls back to you, right between your plush thighs as he kisses your face over and over until he feels like he’ll be sick. “Forgive me when you wake up, baby.” It doesn’t really sound like him anymore, faint and messy as he ruts his cock against the inside of your thigh and stares at your face for a little longer. He paws at your tummy again, maybe it’s the lack of oxygen - he feels like he hasn’t taken a breath in ages - or the fact that all his blood is cleary in his swollen cock, hot and heavy.

He kisses you again, pants against your chest as he watches between your two bodies as one arm keeps him up, and the other drags the shard of glass below your belly button just hard enough to create a little cut. He just- just wants to be a little closer, you’ll let him, you’ll let him- he’s been so fucking mean to you and if he can just do this, he’ll make it up to you. Specks of blood well up that he swipes his thumb through to slide it into his mouth, get used to the taste of copper on his tongue. Sometimes he bites your lip hard enough to split it, and you tear up and whine, tangle your fingers in his hair.

He could cum on the spot when you yank like that, but the taste now isn’t enough. As he pushes the shard of glass into your skin harder, watching one layer make way for another, tougher tissue that still gives when he grids down a little- he waits for the moment where he feels bad, regrets and walks it all back- but the feeling doesn’t come. Your body looks so pretty like this, robbed of your innocence by his hands; and he doesn’t wanna cum yet, fuck. The adrenaline swimming in his head is pounding too hard to feel anything other than love for you, and the pulling, almost unbearable sensation of wanting to slide back into you. The blood pools around the hole as he slides along, hearing the skin squelch and snap, building a sweat along his neck and collar. Maybe you’d lick it up if you were awake.

The blood runs, covers his entire fist that’s wrapped tight around the glass, it creates little rivers that you’ll both be laying in soon. He coughs, before kissing you below your jaw, feeling the weak pulse beneath his lips— and righting himself to look at his work with a better angle, groaning. There’s both more blood and less than he expected, pooling in your belly button, all over your pretty pussy, his thighs and hands- his cock not yet. He drops the glass aside as he thumbs over the wound and sure enough- he’s cut through fat and muscle and sinew without too much struggle, because you’re soft all over.

He pushes the fleshy gash open more, thumbs over the clean cut he made with a strange sort of fascination before the hot, hot blood gets to be too much for his curiosity and he leans in to lick from your clit up, up, up until his tongue reaches the raised, tight skin— what has he done, what’s he doing, this, this isn’t — he can’t stand the heat that’s coming out of you for long, and it smells, but that isn’t what sticks with him right now. He’s never wanted to be closer. The gaping pouch of your belly’s drooling red for him. The head of his cock twitches when he feels the hot of your stomach coating him in blood, and coating you in turn. The cum from before’s all but washed away, but he’s sure he can give you another couple orgasms before he tuckers out.

He’s strung so high all of this feels like a dream, like his head is about to roll off of his neck; he pushes in with a garbled sort of sound that comes from deep, deep inside him. The skin doesn’t wanna give way at first, but he manages to push back hard enough before suddenly he’s inside, and it’s like nothing else. The pressure of a slab of skin taking him where it’s not meant to go— bleeding and whining out like this, it’s euphoric. He’s able to see his cock’s outline glide into you until it’s bulging your stomach, squelching and sucking him back in; feels like you’re taking him deeper than ever, letting him fuck his cock so deep he’ll hit your ribs soon. You’re so fucking beautiful, even like this, getting coated and letting him fuck it.

He doesn’t know what it’s like to feel like you’re dying, but the peace that washes him entirely clean might be close; he grinds his hips into you hard enough to rock your body under him as he laces your hands again. Both, this time, just chasing after an end that seems like it’ll never come.

He feels infinite. Your blood’s so hot it’s almost painful, and the tightness of the hole he carved into you is entirely different from your pussy, pushing back against him like you’re begging him to get out. He imagines you’d beg so pretty- but he’s inside you, finally inside and deeper than anyone’s ever been. He’s able to watch his cock blow up your belly and make it hollow when he pulls back, and God- he should feel worse than he does. He could swallow you whole if you’d let him. The feeling has him shuddering over you as he pants your name, makes your tits brush over his chest- and his balls smack against the smooth stretch of skin until he can’t feel his feet any longer.

Now he’s got you dirtied, he wants to ruin you too, leave you a mangled mess of flesh and swallow every last bit of you until he never forgets the taste. But that would require he’d stop fucking his hot cock into your bloody, little pouch, and that won’t happen. He’s panting, sweat running down his back from the effort, and his groin starts to feel a little raw too. He might’ve been going for hours by now, licking your mouth clean from his drool only to dirty you again. The head of his cock feels fucked raw inside you, and his thighs shake before his shoulders square over you.

Megumi speeds up his pace fucking into your guts -actually- until he clenches every muscle, is overcome again and reaches heaven inside you, spurting creamy white into the pouch he’s created for himself; “Fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuckfuck,” his hand has to twist into an uncomfortable position to reach for your clit, but he wildly does it anyway— cramping up, until he’s collapsing on top of you and stilling inside. The stench of blood makes the entire room smell, as he thumbs over the side of your blood-coated thigh with one hand, and feels the shaking all the way up and down his spine. He pulls out so slowly, pumping the last bits of cum out with a throaty moan, before he slides off the table onto awfully shaky legs.

If he was any more lucid, he’d think twice before leaning by your side to kiss your eyes, your nose, your pouty lips as the tears that must’ve been building for a while run down your temple— and suppresses the need to actually eat you- for now, he rubs a softer hand over your exposed tummy, before folding the now blood-drenched fabric of your skirt back down to hide your puffy pussy, lest he be tempted again. He whispers his love into your ears, nuzzles at your hairline until the feeling comes back to his hands and feet and he tucks his spent cock back into his boxers, and goes about cleaning the mess he made of the floor.

It’s only when an uncomfortable scratchy sound comes that he notices the burning heat on his neck, the dried sweat painfully sticky— and straightens up beside you when you start to shake again. Immediately his worry is sky high. Even in the gross air of mixed blood and cum and the scent of sex soaking everything, his mind is just clear enough to hold your head when you thrash around a few times, and your chest rises wildly up and down. Then before his very eyes, the damage he’d done upon you slowly starts to stitch itself together, like weaving threads. Lacing you up until every bit of muscle, fat, and skin restores to it’s pristine glory before he ever touched you, with a little puff of cursed energy.

He bites his lip hard when the shaking stops, and your back lands back onto the metal with a soft clang. The noise is louder now it’s quiet in the room. Megumi waits for a bit longer before he brushes the hair from your face, and doesn't mind it that he’s leaving tracks. The darkness is filled with his tense breathing, and then — every sound at once. Your eyes shoot open with a cry, sobbing out like a baby for a few painful seconds. But then spot him thumbing your tears away devoted like he is -though he won’t admit it to you, and you let out a noise of pure relief.

It’s almost poetic, when you crash back into his arms and this time, he lets your arms wind around his waist.

All Rights Reserved © IWAASFAIRY 2023. Works are exclusive to this Tumblr.

[wttcsms]

Make a thirst post for any character with any kink PLEASE I BEG OF YOU I AM JUST CRAVING MORE OF YOUR CONTENT

so real, thanks for giving me free will bestie 🤞🏻

content contains breeding kink, excessive cum, implied overstimulation, mating press, belly bulge, pet names (my good girl, my pretty girl, baby), some domesticity!!! (he’s balls deep and y’all are thinking of baby names 🥰)

rin itoshi is soooo husband. he’s obsessed with catering to your every need, always wanting to make sure that you’re well taken care of, always needing to be the reason as to why you’re taken care of. he worries about you, you know. every time he’s away, training or practicing or flying out to play against an international team, it takes everything in him to not immediately blow up your phone with texts. he just wants to make sure that you’re always going to want to stay by his side.

nothing gives him more confidence that you’re entirely his, though, than when you let him channel all those misplaced anxieties of his into fucking you so hard and so deep, you don’t think you’ll ever be able to forget the shape of his cock or the feel of his cum being constantly pumped back into you.

“r-rin!” your words come out slurred, and you have long since lost the ability to even think coherent thoughts. all you’re capable of saying, really, is just his name. even that proves to be a struggle as you feel rin’s grip on the back of your thighs tighten before he’s pushing your legs further up, your knees practically bumping against your shoulders, and now you know why he likes to fuck you ‘til you can’t even think — it makes you boneless, turns you pliant, makes you susceptible to whatever position rin wants to manhandle you into.

“fuck! feel so fuckin’ good, baby. you’re my good girl, aren’t you?” when rin really starts to fuck you, all his sentences come through clenched teeth and sound like hisses. his hair is in his face, tips of his hair almost obstructing his view of you: his pretty girl, all laid out and bare, your little pussy stuffed full of his cock and leaking with your juices and the amount of cum he’s dumped in you. he tsks at the sight, frowning as he watches some of his cum seep out of you.

“if you were really my good girl, you’d keep all my cum inside you instead of wasting it.” he’s mocking you; not out of malice, but your fucked out brain is too slow on the uptake, and you whine out, trying to apologize. he loves it when you get like this. “it’s okay, baby. it just means i have to fuck it all back in for you.”

each thrust brings him impossibly closer to you until you can’t figure out where you start and where he ends. his thrusts are slower than prior, but hitting you so deep that you can’t help but feel every inch of his cock he has to offer.

“i’m not gonna last much longer.” he presses a surprisingly chaste, sweet kiss against your sweat soaked forehead, pushing himself so far deep that he’s practically hitting your cervix. “fuck, baby, i think i’m gonna get you pregnant.”

rin’s baby. your baby. having a baby with rin. the thought excites you, so much so that he can feel you tighten against him at the thought, and it only makes him let out a loud, short laugh.

“you like that? you like the idea of having my baby?” all you can do is nod, letting out a whine as he gives you a few more shallow thrusts.

he’s cumming in you, with his cock pressed so deep inside you that you’re certain his cum is hitting right into your fucking womb. you savor the warm feeling, feeling lightheaded and satisfied and only dreaming of a vague future of you holding a baby that looks like the perfect mix of you and rin.

he’s panting softly from exertion, coming down from his high, and he kisses you again, this time on your soft lips. pressing his forehead against your own, you can feel his warm breath tickling your face as he speaks.

“we should start thinking of names.”

[disasterofastory]

The maid of Mr. Barnes - Part 11 (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

The maid of Mr. Barnes Part 11 - Something everybody should know // Masterlist Bucky Barnes x Reader Mafia AU Warnings: a tiny bit of spice

Summary: You can’t avoid Bucky forever.

The bottom of the clear sky is plastered with several shades of yellow and orange. The sun barely peeks out from behind the horizon and the woods, raising in the distance. The warm rays cover the garden in a golden hue, making everything radiant and beautiful. Small droplets of water glitter and shine on the green lawn. The colorful flowers rock back and forth to the will of the light early morning breeze. Their sweet scent swirls and lingers in the fresh air. Birds hide in the greenery, singing their joyful songs to awaken nature.

You wander around the garden, trying to clear your mind and freshen up before your work starts. Small pebbles creak under your steps as you walk around, thinking. Your conversation with Steve's girlfriend helped you with your mixed feelings. Now you don't feel guilty anymore because of that one kiss. The sane part of your mind still tells you to pack your things and leave, but your other side doesn't let you do it. The truth is, you don't want to quit and not just because you enjoy working here. You like Bucky. He showed you nothing but kindness and patience, and you have no real reason to back away from whatever the future may bring.

Before you know it, you are at the glass roof-protected pool at the back of the garden. Small waves glint under the sun as somebody swims beneath the surface. At first, you don't even know who he is, but before you could move along, disappearing behind the trees and bushes, the man comes up for air, and both of you find yourselves looking at each other. His arms are on the edge of the pool. His muscles bulge on his ink-covered arms and shoulders. "Oh," you break the silence. "I'm sorry. I didn't know somebody was here." "It's okay," Bucky smiles. Small water drops glint on his lashes as he blinks them off. "Why are you up so early?" "I just..." you shrug. It's hard to find the right words when he is half-naked. "I couldn't sleep." "Do you want to come in?" He asks, nodding to the water behind him. "I don't have a swimsuit," you reply. "That's unfortunate," he hums. Bucky wants to say you don't need anything to join him but keeps his mouth shut. He doesn't want to scare you away. "We have to get you one." "Yeah," you nod, looking around the garden. "I go and let you enjoy your swim. Do you need coffee when you come back?" A small smirk pulls on his lips as he pushes himself away from the wall. His broad chest is out of the water, and you know he is showing off. The cords of his muscles flex as he moves, and warmth flutters in your belly at the view.

Okay, you think, trying to keep your sanity, I really need to get out of here.

"Or you could stay," he offers. "The water is really good." You should go. You are not ready to talk to your boss while he is half-naked and wet. But you stay standing there, frozen, thinking about the kiss. His lips seem more tempting like this, wet. "Okay," you breathe out after a while, taking a seat on the edge of the pool and putting your legs into the warm water. For a second, you are really sad that you have nothing to wear for swimming. "I heard you talked with Steve's girl," he says after a while, and you know where it's going. "Yes," you nod. "She is really amazing." "She is," Bucky agrees. "But you should know, she and Steve tell each other everything." "And... and there is something they shouldn't know?" You ask, gulping and glaring down the water. You know what he is thinking about, and suddenly, you feel insecure. Maybe talking with Sugar wasn't a good idea. Maybe Sugar was wrong, and Bucky thinks the kiss was a mistake. "No," Bucky replies, moving closer and closer. "I think everybody should know about it." "Why?" You glance at him. He is closer than you thought. "Because everybody should know about my intentions." He is in front of you now. His large hands are on your ankles, moving up on your legs, massaging your flesh on their way. "And what are your intentions?" You ask him. Your voice is barely louder than a whisper. His hands are on the back of your knees, gripping your leg to spread them. You know it's impossible, but you are really afraid he can see the rapid pulsing between your legs. His movements are slow, watching out for your reaction to his closeness. "First," he says, pushing himself against you. Feeling his chest on yours, you don't even care about your clothes. Your mind is blank as you watch his handsome face. "I want to take you on a date. Tomorrow. How does it sound?"

A date? With him?

"Okay," you whisper, nodding. "Then," he continues, leaning closer. His warm breath is on your lips, making them tingle with anticipation. "I will woo you to become so obsessed with me as I am with you." You are sure it's already the case, but you don't tell him that. The thought of Bucky trying to woo you makes you excited. "You can try," you reply, a bit cheekily when you wake up from the daze he put you in. Your attention turns from the lazy smirk on his lips to his blue eyes. "I will, Bunny," he hums. His lips are almost on yours. You can feel the rumble of his words. "And I always get what I want." "Just-," you gulp. You are ready to jump out of your skin at any moment now. "Just kiss me already."

And he does. It's more confident than the last time. Bucky truly knows what he wants and is not afraid to take it. He nibbles on your lips until you open your mouth for him to slip his tongue inside, dominating the kiss with his arms on your hips. Your own hands are on his shoulders, moving up to his neck and keeping him close to you. Your legs are around his hips. You can feel his hardness as he presses himself closer.

"Bucky," you squeak his name into his mouth when you feel his hold tightening around you. "What are you-?" And with that, you are in the water. Mind still dizzy, and your clothes are soaked. Bucky's laugh is muffled from above the surface. "Why did you do it?" You gasp, finding the bottom of the pool to stand up, wiping the water off your face. You try to sound angry, but in reality, being in the water feels good, and his arms soon sneak around your waist to pull you against him. "I thought you should cool down a bit," he replies cheekily. His blue eyes glint with mischief and happiness. "You should do that too," you tell him, feeling his erection pressed against your hip. "I have an idea," he hums, leaning closer again, but before he could kiss you again, you splash him across the face, slipping out of his reach. "Oh, Bunny," he hums. "You are in trouble."

[fantasywriter19]

1. Melody Riddle and the Sorcerer's Stone Ch.1 To Be Magical

My name is Melody Riddle…

I know what you’re thinking in your head: “I’ve never heard of you!” and “What side were you on when Voldemort — obviously your father — came to power again?” Well, when Harry’s biography was being written, I had to ask that I not be included at all. Easier said than done. Where there are strange holes in his story, they’re basically where I was… not that you’d notice the holes until you read my story.

Back on topic, I wanted to write my own autobiography so you can see the choices I had to make and what brought me to do everything I’ve ever done. It may not make you understand my decisions any more than if Harry had written it, but at least it’s from my perspective.

Where my story begins, I am ten years old living in Colorado in the United States… but I used to be Melody Gray — a decision of my mother’s that I still have yet to understand:

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“Melody! I-I need to tell you something! Come here!” mom shouted from upstairs in the living room, her British accent sounding nervous.

I sat up in bed, setting aside the history book I’d been reading for school. Well, not particularly for school, but for my teacher. I was a quick learner, so she was attempting to push me past limits she just can’t find.

“I’m coming!” I yelled, wondering just what she was so worried about. It was a Sunday, and dad had just left an hour prior for his business trip — during that time he was always running out the door as quickly as possible to avoid mom’s pregnancy mood swings. At that point, she had trouble letting him leave the house.

Raised in the United States like my dad, I had no accent to speak of. I knew mom was from somewhere in the United Kingdom, but she wouldn’t tell me, nor dad, why she came to America. As much as I had asked while growing up, she would not explain a single word.

I arrived upstairs to see mom pacing back and forth, looking extremely nervous as she obviously thought hard about something. Her belly bulged with the baby that was to come out in about three months, and I watched her from the darkness of the basement stairs for a bit, just listening to her mutter something I couldn’t hear. Does this count as something stressful that mom shouldn’t do? Probably.

It took me one extra step forward for mom to notice that I was there, and she instantly gestured to the plum colored couch. Ugly color if you were to ask me and dad, but mom loved it. I sat down, leaning back into the couch to listen.

“Sweetie, I have something to tell you…” she sat down next to me, seeming fairly hesitant, and pulled the stray strand of curly brown hair out of her face. I inherited the same color, except mine is strangely straight. “And I don’t know how else to do this, so I’m just going to come out and say it. I am a witch.”

There was a prolonged silence where all I could do was stare at her. This isn’t good, I thought. “Nice to know being pregnant hasn’t made you insane, mom,” I quipped.

Her face reddened, “I’m being very serious, Melody…. The reason I haven’t told you before is because… oh, I’m very bad at this…. Well, your father isn’t a wizard.. and — erm — he doesn’t know that I am a witch.. but I need to tell you now because you most likely are one.” The last few words were said slowly, uncertainly. But she waited patiently for me to say something.

“Mom, we’ve had this discussion before. I know kids at school call me a witch, but it’s only because — as nice as I try to be — I somehow give off this vibe that I don’t like any of them. It’s very true in most cases, but —”

“I’m not talking about that!” she snapped, cutting me short. “I’m talking about real magic, Melody. Magic from your bones, magic concentrated through a wand to make amazing things happen. Even more amazing than a magician’s show full of tricks, because it’s not fake magic but real magic.”

I sighed, “Are you sure this isn’t just your hormones? I mean, dad just left for  —”

“No, Melody,” mom sighed in frustration. A moment later, however, her silvery gray eyes — something else I inherited — brightened and she pulled a key out of her pocket. “Grab the safe from under the couch for me,” she said.

I narrowed my eyes at her as I reached underneath me to feel something metal. “There’s a safe under here?” I asked as I struggled to pull it out, picking it up and placing it on my lap. “What in the world is in here? Gold?”

Mom gave a knowing grin as she slipped the key into the lock, “Something like that.” The lock twisted and she lifted the lid open to reveal gold, silver and bronze coins stacked neatly in rows. A long, beautifully carved stick lay lightly on top.

Mesmerized, I started to reach my hand out to pick it up, but mom beat me to it.

She snatched it up, still grinning, and waved it at the safe which promptly slammed shut — causing me to jump and stare — and flew right back under the couch. As if that wasn’t enough, she also pointed the wand at the bookshelf across the room, levitating my favorite story book over: The Tales of Beedle the Bard.

I watched with tension as the book landed gently on my lap, and then I looked up at mom. She had used that stick — or wand, I supposed — to levitate it across the room.

Mom looked triumphant. On any normal occasion, I would’ve made some logical explanation for what I saw… especially when it was a mere magician’s act. But, I saw no strings attached to this, literally, and part of me actually wanted to believe in it.

I rubbed my hand over the cover of the book and sighed, “Okay, I’ll bite. What’s going on?”

“Ever wondered why none of your friends know about this book? Why Beedle the Bard isn’t in any history books you know for writing these stories?” mom asked, watching me closely.

“I have wondered, mom, remember? When I asked, you said it was a book passed down through your family for generations, and that it was quite possibly the only one in existence. I really like the book, so I can’t object but… a wizard wrote it?” I asked, silently in awe at what I was learning. However, I knew that the look on my face remained one of absolute confusion.

Mom nodded mutely.

“How would we know if I am a witch?” I asked.

“Has anything happened to you lately that you haven’t told me about? There may be something to show that you have magic.”

My mind reeled through the years. “Well, there was that time I woke up and everything in my room had disappeared. I thought someone might have robbed me, but then I blinked once and everything was in my room again.”

“When was that? You never told me about it.”

I had to bite back a wince at her gaze of dismay. Mom really thought I talked to her about everything. And I usually did. It’s just that when something was out of the ordinary, I avoided worrying her over it unless I knew for sure it actually happened. Most of the time I couldn’t be so sure. Perhaps I’m much too logical… or can it be considered illogical now with this proof of the existence of magic?

I explained more times where something was odd; there were too many to count, really. Other kids had tried to pick on me once — and I mean once from almost every kid — and all of a sudden they came down with an illness, or they went into a vegetative state that disappeared the minute an adult came by. The only things I left out were my dreams… well, they weren’t really dreams… they were more like nightmares considering I always woke up frightened. Mostly shown as some random thing chasing me. I’d never yet found out what.

Mom listened to each of them attentively, but her face showed a large trace of fear when I told her the last story that always left me with a long line of questions.

“Do you remember all those times we went to the zoo? And you would go get dinner while I wandered around by myself for a bit?”

She nodded.

“I would go into the reptile room, and just talk to the snakes. I thought I was imagining it, that they were like imaginary friends. I always felt like it was my secret to keep talking to them alone. People would stare, of course, and also wonder why I talked to them.” I said. “I know what they were thinking, because I swear I could hear their thoughts when I looked at them.”

Mom’s face was incredibly white, and I watched her with trepidation. I had never seen her look at me, or anyone, with such fear before.

“Mom,” I prod her arm with my hand, “are you okay?”

“Oh,” she said in surprise, as though coming out of a daze. “Why yes I’m fine. It’s also a lot for me to process.”

“Is it… abnormal for a wizard to be able to talk to snakes, and hear people’s thoughts?” I asked tentatively, a smoky smell hitting me in my face. I threw my hand up to cover my nose.

“A little… it’s not something to boast about, mind, but I’ve heard of stranger abilities.” She said thoughtfully before springing to attention. “I think the lasagna is burning,” she said urgently, standing and hastily making her way to the kitchen.

She was a great cook, so it was practically impossible for anything to distract her enough to actually burn something. The worst part about it was I couldn’t help but see that she wasn’t telling the truth when she said she’d seen stranger abilities. When she said it wasn’t something to boast about— it really sounded more like a warning not to tell anyone.

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I sat in the classroom thinking more on that… magical discussion. It had only been a couple days ago, and mom and I never said another word about it. Dad called home that night with the news that his flight had just landed and asked “What did my two favorite girls do today?”

I said nothing. If mom didn’t want him to know, I supposed it was her business, but I hoped she would eventually talk to him about it.

“Melody!!” someone loudly exclaimed, taking me reluctantly out of my thoughts.

“Huh?”

Though I showed no surprise, I felt it. It was easier for me to keep my emotions in check at school. Many kids thought I was extremely dull and, since after the incidents with the bullies, everyone avoided me. I had no friends to speak of, so it was normal to get lost in my mind and forget that I was around other people. I sometimes felt my subconscious just never cared to know the people around me anyway. Who needs them?

The people calling my name happened to be my teacher and my partner sitting next to me, both staring intently at me.

“What?” I asked, easily holding back my irritability.

“I’ve been calling your name for the past five minutes,” Ms. Kold told me sternly. I highly doubted she was doing that for five minutes, but she continued before I could correct her. “Your grandpa is here to take you home early.”

“My who?”

Ms. Kold turned and gestured over to a man I did not recognize.

He had silver hair and a beard, and both were extremely long. He wore long purple robes, accenting just how tall he was, and it all seemed to bring out his bright blue eyes, somehow sparkling behind his half-moon spectacles. His nose was long and crooked.

“I don’t know this man, Ms. Kold,” I said skeptically.

“Oh, not to worry,” she soothed with a smile. “Your mom called just a few minutes ago to say that he was coming. He’s her father, she mentioned you’ve never met.”

I looked at the man. “Not possible.”

“We can talk alone for a minute before we leave, I promise you’ll trust me afterwards,” the man said, his eyes as kind as his voice. I noticed his voice was also British… Leave it to my school to allow a complete stranger to talk to a kid, and possibly kidnap her, just because he and the mother have the same accent.

I quickly covered my emotions before nodding, sitting there quietly while my teacher continued her patrol around the classroom and my partner went to another pair to be a group of three. The man sat down in front of me where my partner had been.

“Hello, Melody,” he said brightly, “I am Albus Dumbledore; Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”

I stared at him blankly. “There’s a school?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “Your mother sent me a message a few days ago about enrolling you in my school in the fall.”

“Okay,” I said slowly. “But couldn’t that have waited until after school rather than right in the middle of it? No offense, but you’re kind of drawing a lot of unwanted attention toward me with those robes of yours.”

He smiled, “No, it couldn’t. As soon as I arrived, I wanted to find you immediately…. You see, Miss Melody Gray, you may not understand this now, but believe me when I tell you that you are a most… precious find.”

Next Chapter > -Table of Contents-

[genshinboys]

Thigh job with Genshin Boys - Xiao

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Fem reader x Xiao

When you enter your flat, a handsome but grumpy Yaksha is sitting cross-legged on your bed resting his chin in the palm of his small hand. He grimaces and shoots something that can be referred to as a death stare in your direction. 

Here we go again. You think to yourself as you close the door behind you.

„You are late.” He basically growls at you fixing you with another menacing glare.

„It’s nice to see you too, Baby.” You approach the sulking adeptus and lean in to kiss his forehead but, alas, he backs away and frowns in turn.

„Oh, no kisses then?” A smile on your face but a sneer in your voice makes his blood boil.

It is like a match in a powder barrel.

„Don’t play dumb with me, Y/N!” He warns. „I know all of your cheap tricks.”

You let out an annoyed huff. Arms crossed on your chest.

„Why would you even ask when I saw you following me all the damn time, hmm?” You accuse your boyfriend, gazing right into Xiao's averting eyes.

„I wasn’t follow-,” and then he goes silent knowing fully well that lying isn’t an option with you.

„So?” You nag, hoping for any kind of response. „No need to be this jealous, Xiao.”

„Don’t get weird ideas in your head.” The boy deadpans. „I’m not jealous!” He defends himself but it doesn’t sound convincing enough even for his own ears. He blushes and turns his head away.

You let out a sigh and smile warmly at your boyfriend’s pettiness.

Does he even realise how cute he is? You briefly wonder and then you reach for his silky hair and ruffle it affectionately.

It’s been a taxing, full of ups and downs journey since you met the haunted by karmic debt Yaksha. At first, he didn’t even acknowledge your presence. You were just another bothersome individual and he could not care less about your existence. It was unnerving. He was snarky, seething with rage for no reason, hiding his feelings for so long that it seemed to you that they were going to explode inside of him one day leading to his utter despair and demise. You got to know about his past and the weight of his karmic debt from Zhongli. You took pity. Somehow you felt compelled to help the boy, regardless of his repulsive demeanour. The golden-eyed Yaksha was of a different opinion, though. 

Xiao didn’t want you to get close to him. He couldn’t make any sense of your stubbornness. Why would you even want to have anything to do with him? Him? 

A barbaric monster, eaten up alive by remorse and regret. 

A blood-thirsty fiend whose sole purpose of breathing is to slaughter and spread fear wherever he shows his face. 

These were the thoughts so deeply engraved in his unfortunate soul that he couldn’t allow anyone to come near him.

He perceived himself as a hollow, barren of any human emotions vessel. The only feelings he was familiar with were pain and the burden of his legacy that he is forced to carry up to this day.

Bizarrely, as time had passed he was taken aback by some unfamiliar sensation of tightness in his chest. It wasn’t painful. Nothing that would come close to the distress caused by the divine will. It wasn’t permanent, either. It only happened in your presence, as Yaksha would hesitantly observe. Sometimes it got even worse. It would be accompanied by this fluttery feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

„Why are you this close? Huh? Do you have a death wish?”

„Move, I don’t have time to sit around and be idle like you do.”

„You have no respect for the adepti. Stop fooling around.” 

The more he pushed you away the more you were determined to lure him in. You couldn’t stop laughing when one day Zhongli informed you that the troubled Yaksha came to him to seek advice regarding this weird tightness in his chest and an upset stomach when you were around. 

And so, you smile fondly at your boyfriend as he yanks your hand away not liking the way you tousle the emerald green strands.

„I’m sorry XIao. I didn’t mean to be late. Just wanted to buy some jewellery.” You point to your thigh to get the adeptus’ attention back where it should be, which is you, not the wall.

Xiao glances at your thigh doing his best to remain impassive and uninterested. Unfortunately, his eyes widen a little and his mouth is somehow stuck hanging open as if he were to say something but the words never come out.

„You saw me bargaining with the shopkeeper, nothing wrong about that, right?” You explain to the adeptus currently captivated by the glimmering golden chain adorning your thigh.

Xiao has a lot to learn when it comes to dealing with his own emotions. You are acutely aware of that. He doesn’t know how to react, how to show that he cares or process what he feels. He doesn’t also entirely understand the purpose of half of the things that you insist on doing to him. Playful bites, tickling, holding his hand in public. He doesn’t question these actions even though it’s all a novelty. He does know for sure that it makes him feel flustered and all hot inside. 

Does he despise it? No. 

Would he like for you to continue? The answer to that question is definitely affirmative but Xiao is not going to admit it out loud. 

He also has no clue how to initiate all of these things. Is he supposed to bite you back as well? What if he hurts you? Everything is so overwhelming as he’s endured years of solitude and sadness. You have to patiently teach him everything from square one. Nevertheless, it’s incredibly rewarding and you find yourself falling for him a bit more with each clumsy kiss, a shy but warm hug and an awkward attempt at complimenting you.

However, despite being not well-versed in sexual encounters, Xiao does pleasantly surprise you by catching up with everything real quick. 

So, as his eyes are fixated on the trinket, you once again run your hand through his lush and long hair.

„Why would you even buy it? Pointless.” The boy retorts grumpily this time showing no signs of objection to your tender gesture. He moves his head up a little, losing himself to the tingling sensation going down his scalp.

„So that you can stare at me like that with those needy eyes?” You answer truthfully, barring the real intent behind your actions.

He snorts and his face turns into that lovely shade of pink and then deep red within seconds.

He would absolutely turn his gaze away if not for the fact that you take his chin in your hand and thrust his face upwards forcing him to look you straight in the eyes.

„If you don’t like it you can take it off.”

„No need.” 

You chuckle softly.

„Let me make amends for my delay.” 

You take a step forward and place your knee on the verge of the bed. Xiao drinks in the view of your thigh-highs squeezing into the meat of your legs. The chain shimmering lightly right above the lacy material.

„You can touch it, Baby.” You encourage the nervous Yaksha.

Visibly tensed, he reaches for the exposed skin and lightly traces the chain with his unsure fingers. It almost tickles but you let him do as he pleases and soon Xiao attempts to fully envelop your thigh with his greedy hand. He does cover half of it at best, but he seems satisfied and proceeds to squeeze it. It feels soft to the touch and he shivers at how warm and inviting your legs are in contrast to his icy-cold and sweaty palms. Bewitched, Xiao aches for more and he selfishly pulls you in so that you are now kneeling in front of him on the bed.

He stops breathing when you swiftly unbutton your shorts and undress for him. You let his eyes roam over your half-naked body for some time enthralled by the way Xiao’s pupils dilate in awe.

You lean into him as Xiao pulls you towards him for a messy kiss. It isn’t gentle as usual but full of passion and urgency. He whines when you bite on his lower lip but then you gently stroke him with your tongue to ease the discomfort.

Slowly, very very slowly, your hands go down his torso only to finally stop at the bulge in Xiao’s loose pants. You tug at the waistband and Xiao lifts his ass a bit to help you strip him naked. His penis, hard and heavy, resting now on his lower belly. He hisses when you palm his hard erection and that simple touch sends jolts of electricity down his spine. It leaves him intoxicated once you start gliding with the heel of your palm up and down the underside of his member. You repeat the movement and Xiao’s body jerks in response.

„Don’t tease.” The adeptus pleads through gritted teeth.

„I’m so sorry, Baby. Gonna make you feel real good.”

Xiao can feel himself growing impossibly harder when you place your feet on either side of his hips. When he looks down he can see your wet folds and the pinkish colour of your tight hole. Lying on your back, you prop yourself on your elbows so that you can look at Xiao’s face in the process. You scoot a bit closer to the confused boy, your bum is right in front of his erected shaft. You take his cock in your hand and guide him in between your thighs. In the beginning, you try to be delicate. You gently rub the tip of his cock, circle his shaft with your fingers and with a fisted hand spread his pre-cum all the way down to his pubic hair so that he is thoroughly lubricated. You wouldn’t like to hurt the boy during the whole ordeal. 

His breath is shallow. Excitedly, you clasp your thighs together and start playing with his dick. You rotate your hips and massage his cock. It slides in and out and Xiao growls feeling ecstatic. You exchange between rubbing him with your thighs or gliding your hand along his cock, starting at the very top and working your way down to the bottom until Xiao can’t stifle his cries anymore. A few more strokes and he is definitely going to beg. 

Xiao is on fire. It feels too good to be true and he wants this moment to last forever. He licks his dry lips and moans wantonly thrusting his hips forward. He meets you mid-way and the friction it creates every time he pushes his dick in between your legs leaves him gasping.

„You’re making me cum, Y/N.” He cries out for the last time before it is too late to warn you.

„Then cum for me, Baby.” 

Obediently, Xiao shoots his thick and heavy load all over your lower body. For a moment the world around him seems out of focus and it makes him dizzy. He pants heavily and can’t catch his breath. He feels as if he was drowning. But then, your loving arms envelop him and he is safe again. You gently stroke his chest hugging him from behind. He melts in your embrace letting his head rest on your shoulder. His erratic heartbeat slowly going back to its usual rhythm.

„I think it looks pretty on you.”

„Hmm?” You want the boy to clarify what he meant.

„The chain... Looks pretty.”

„Oh.” 

Shakily, he reaches out to put your hand into his and he squeezes them together. 

„I’ll never let you lose yourself again, XIao. I love you and I will protect you forever.”

Xiao recognizes the familiar feeling of tightness in his chest. A single tear rolls down his cheek but he hurriedly wipes it before you can notice.

„Shut up.” The boy responds angrily and kisses you breathless. 

Other boys:

Albedo

Diluc

Kaeya

Childe

Zhongli

Kazuha

[bemylord]

ᴘᴜɴɪꜱʜᴍᴇɴᴛ + ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀᴄᴀʀᴇ │ ᴅɪʟꜰ ꜰᴜꜱʜɪɢᴜʀᴏ ᴛᴏᴊɪ

pairings: toji fushiguro x fem!reader.

warnings: nsfw, spit kink, spanking, slap on the cheeks [once], size kink, belly bulge, tears, creampie, marks, dom/sub, cockwarming, nicknames, butt plug, edging [mentioned], degrading, gagging, oral [both?], breeding kink + aftercare and praising <3 grammar issues.

word counter: 4.2k

butler's note: extra hot and extra big. it must a 4.7k but i though it'd be too long, so i deleted some parts. if you like dilf toji - butler's here to serve your thirst. i did toji in his 30s not in 40s bc megumi is three years old.

'on your knees, slut' you swallowed, dare to have a quick look on your daddy before stood on the knees. toji will give you the punishment in a few seconds - you had given up on making excuses, yet preparing your throat and holes for his cock.

the playroom, which toji designated as the 'basement' for megumi, so that his son wouldn't enter, is arranged in relatively red colors: only the toy chest of drawers was made of wood, which had a shade of terracotta.

toji is into toys. edging you 'till your pussy will be soaked enough or else he'd turn the vibrator on the max, sat on the chair in front of the bed, putting his elbows on the armrests, making himself comfortable in the cushioned chair, to watch as how you're being a desperate slut for him.

trying to squirm from vibration on your overstimulated clit, as your legs have shaken as the toy brought you the new piece of the orgasm. toji commanded you to intently stare into his green lewd eyes as you feel the oncoming orgasm.

tears had come to the corners of your eyes, as you had reached the orgasm. you had given up counting the highest you've been reaching, but you knew toji hadn't touched himself - his balls are full of sperm to breed your pussy and mouth.

he turned off the toy, lightly rubbing your clit, as you arch the back for toji's caresses - he had enough to make a few circles as you milked on his fingers.

'your pussy so soaked, your juices are oozing all over your thighs,' he kissed the inner thighs, moving soft kisses to the succulent place. 'let daddy taste it.'

certainly, his tongue could bring you another pleasant satisfaction feeling in minutes due to the kind of torture he had placed you. he licked your oozing hole, tasting the juices, mooing into your bosom, causing vibrations.

you abruptly exhale, as toji moves his mouth to your swollen clit - you've been tortured and haggard, but you'll give your daddy the last creampie on his cock, will you?

of course, you will. you will milk his thick, hot cock when the tip literally touching your cervix, replenishing your vagina with his sperm. you had dig nails into his back, milking the cock, produce the white ring around the cock base, hearing as toji groans into your ear.

now, he won't be lenient. you had been a bad girl, very-very bad girl. you got daddy's permission to cum, didn't you? to be an obedient whore - is your role in the sex, so why did you disobedient the simple rule? you wanted a punishment.

toji sat on the upholstered chair, spreading his legs wide apart as if calling you to have your place. his cock is bulging from the sports pants - despite it was baggy, it seems that the cock would rip the material if it could do it.

you glare at him once again: green eyes are focusing solely on you, devouring, waiting for you to touch the cock with your tongue. he put elbows on the armrests, grinning - it's gonna be the rough punishment.

you placed palms on his knees, rubbing them slowly as if wobbling, should you continuing or you should have to stop. you're unhurriedly moving hands towards the bulge, lick the parched lips - soon, there will be his semen.

you touch his outlining dick with one finger, feeling how hard it is, how big your daddy cock is. the one thing that has been stopping his cock from being in your mouth - the elastic. you've lowered his pants, freeing up a fat cock.

you dare to look at the cock, before pulling it in inside your warm wet mouth: a small amount of precum on the pink glans and the protruding vein on the side of his cock, which you always had licked first. as usual - balls have a large amount of white, salty liquid to paint your mouth and pussy into white color.

fuck, perfect dilf in the prime of his life. toji in his 30s but his cock is fucking amazing. jesus, he's fucking good: he always pleases your needs with his cock, his fingers, his tongue.

fuck, what a perfect daddy you've gotten. primarily, toji hired you as a babysitter for his son, but lately, the both of you began to experience a completely non-working relationship, crossing the thin line of 'friendship' or 'boss and employee'.

do you mind when toji kisses your lips in the morning before making you a cup of coffee? do you ever put resistance towards his attempts to love you?

he snapped you out of your memories with a light slap on the cheek, more like a small touch of his palm on your cheek. toji put his chin on the palm as the little finger slightly covers the scar on his lip.

'suck my cock and gag on it.'

you wrapped your small palms around the base, licking the precum turning your head to lick the prominent vein. you had kept asking yourself, how does his fat cock fit in your little mouth?

although, toji fushiguro is definitely maddening by your small mouth that barely could fit the entire cock. the rare occasion when you managed to touch your nose against his pubic - after touching the bristle hair, you found yourself in tears as the glans touching the throat.

he'd lie if he tells he doesn't like when you get choked by his thick cock. toji feels like he's in heaven - doesn't need to use hands to press your head deep into the base. though, he could do it unexpectedly, take you off guard, overhearing as to how you're getting choked.

you're suctioning the cock as if it a lollipop with strawberry or cherry flavor, sucking as if you've been thirsty for weeks. scattering kisses along the length, pulling out the cock from the mouth with a pop sound.

the sound echoes through the room chugging and chomping. toji is smirking as seeing as his dick disappears inside your mouth, feeling as your tongue playing with the base inside. suddenly, you felt his big palms on your head, as he warned you with his giggled, suc as a telltale sign.

relentlessly, literally from the first second he had touched your hair, he fucks your throat without mercy as if you don't feel any pain. predilection of choke you with his cock.

you're trying to breath with a nose, but [forgive me] as toji replace palms to the throat and nose - this is what he calls a real suffocation. tears are running on your cheek as the glans touches your tonsillar.

'look me in the face, slut' he placed both palms on your throat, periodically squeezing and giving you few seconds to fill your lunges with the air.

you stare at the eyes full of lewd and the pleasure of your weeping face, he knows it hurts and throat will be sore in the morning - that is the reason why he will give you a day off on his large bed, where you'll be resting as toji will take of his son.

he will forbid you to get out of bed as if you could get out - the ass will burn as if you had been fucked by several men, not by one cock. by the way, you don't need several men as you've got toji. toji fushiguro and his cock will rip your pussy like you've been needy for it

there are times when the sorcerer killer is soft, his pace is slow as he covers your collarbone with quick hickeys that go away after a few minutes. he worships you like his queen, whispering that he will marry you one day.

'you're gonna be my little girl forever, only mine girl.'

don't think toji is a monster who loves to fuck you until you'll be a dumb as his cock breeding your pussy, you like it as well, when toji spanking your ass contemporaneously caresses your clit, reaching the new wave of orgasm on his cock.

'open your mouth little one.'

you pull out his cock, open your mouth wide, letting the saliva dripping down onto the chin, as you stick out the tongue. he cups your face, spitting in your mouth, mingling your drools together. you swallowed the mixture as a good girl, stick out again, asking for the supplementation.

'should daddy gives you more, should daddy kisses your lips?'

'yes, daddy, kiss me.' he squeezes the throat at your response.

'yes, daddy, kiss your slut, kiss her, please.'

he smiled, noticing how obedient you are by calling yourself his slut. he lowered his body down to kiss your mouth with a tongue, making you completely a mess, as you moan into the kiss. a small reward before the punishment.

he kisses your lower lip, slightly bites it, taking off your wet panties. not breaking the kiss, he runs the finger in your crotch, has a sensation of your dripping pussy - daddy's perfect slut. he entered with one finger without any warning, feeling your gooey walls.

you opened your eyes from the unaware action, staring into the green, loved one's eyes, feeling as his tongue is playing with yours, his finger tasting and preparing your hole for his cock.

'suck my finger and taste yourself'

you wrapped his wrist with a palm, taking in your mouth the soaked finger in your juice - toji's sperm is tasting better than any other liquid. he gets up from the chair, walking towards the drawer to get the toy.

'what color of the plug my slut wants?'

'whichever daddy chooses'

he put the one with a white, fluffy tail, lubricating hands, and plug. you knees on the edge of the bed, licking lips as anticipating the plug in your hole. fushiguro runs a finger along your hole, lubricating the ass, so it won't hurt too much - only his dick can bring the pleasant tingles.

he entered with one finger, feeling as the tight hole immediately squeezes it. he kissed your asscheeks, replacing into the toy. the sensation of the cool toy made you wobble your pelvis, but instantly you felt the strong hands of Toji, which calmed you down.

you had felt as the toy slowly coming inside the non-stretched, tight hole. you exhaled, arching the back, silently begging for the drooling pussy to be stretched with his fat cock. but instead of his cock you felt as his palms found themselves on your butt, squeezing them.

you screamed when toji spanked the right cheek. you've practically fallen as if toji's another palm which is holding you, so you wouldn't twitch and sneak away from the spanking.

another hit on your butt and another and another. your soft and once pristine skin is now covered with the marks of toji's palms, he marvels as he looks at the 'art' he has created - one touch and you shudder in suffering.

'turn around and face me.'

you hardly turn your body, looking from the bottom to meet his gaze - you've got a lovely opportunity to watch as he takes off the black t-shirt, he threw his arms back, pulling the fabric down, tossing it aside, placing his knee on the bed, opening your mouth with his hand.

he spits again in your mouth, as your hands found themselves on his stomach, outlining his sculpted abs with your fingernails. his muscular, athletic body feels so pleasant under your soft pads.

'give my dick a kiss before i'll rip your pussy'

once again you feel the hard cock in your mouth, salivating the base, pulling out to play with balls for a little. he groaned as felt your mouth has taken one ball then another, playing as toji loves, ogling at his foggy gaze and sanity. his cock twitched, when you kiss the head, turned your body.

his pads deftly find your clit, as the killer lay down on the stomach, moving your hips towards his face, forcing you to repeat his movement and lie on your tummy. he tucked the tail on your back, examining your oozing hole.

he couldn't help but bury his face on your pussy, tasting the arousal, knowing who your hole, body, and mind are belonging to. your arousal as well, tearing apart your pussy with fingers, entering inside with his tongue.

as if he could reach the spongy bug inside your vagina - he will wake you up every morning with a tongue.

going in and out in sharp movements, then lick the entrance such in a tease way. he had added two fingers simultaneously as you immediately squeezed 'em, quelling your moans with the pillow.

with one hand toji is stretching your gummy walls, feeling the friction when you adjust to his thick fingers; with another, he spanks your red butt cheeks, bringing you the discomfort.

't-daddy, i-i'm..'

'you've got my permission, cum on daddy's mouth.'

he caresses your clit with circles, anticipating for the liquid he'll lick. the euphoria had covered you surprisingly, when toji removed the plug, had kissed your ass. his strong hands were holding your legs widely as you were giving daddy the liquid he had been waiting.

licking the drooling cunt 'till your clarity is hazed and dazed by the marvelous feeling, you couldn't think clear, murmuring him different phrases.

'daddy, please fuck me rough, please, i need your thick fat cock in my pussy, daddy~'

you've purred like a cat last word, rocking the hips as you're still in the clouded conduction, unconsciously murmuring his nickname, stuck your butt.

'how can daddy say no to his baby girl.'

toji bent you over on the back, without hesitation threw legs over his shoulders. he spits on the pussy, smearing the saliva on the enterance. although you've been stretching before, his head had come inside with an effort, giving the moment to adjust to his size as the glance have touched the cervix, filling the space.

feel of being full by his cock definitely the best you had ever felt. you're melting by his warm and sweet body - drops of sweet starts to appear on the muscules as you're clenching the dick inside, attempting to adapting to his cock. he fucked your pussy almost every night, but tho you still fucking tight.

that's the thing toji loves - your hole as if renewal, making it difficult to fuck your relentnessly, so in the morning there will the pain between your thighs. he'll apologize with his tongue on your pussy, eating you as you like it.

the moment you clenched his wrists, leaving half-moon marks there, telltale sign for toji to move the pelvis. he pull his cock out to the glans, giving it back in a second, kissing your ankles, staring into your eyes, wrapping hands below the knees, using your legs to push into your wet bosom, stretching the walls to paint after in a white hue.

he moves the pelvis forth and back, beating out the moans out of your mouth, smiling to be the one who can and will bring pleasure to your body and mind. toji casts an insatiable glance over your body - with every thrust into your drooling pussy, your breasts bounce as your palms clutch the sheet, hoping to compensate for the blows.

as well, you glance over the man figure, staring as toji's chest rises when he goes all the way in. when he breathes out, his abdomen is visibly showing you the muscular. you clench the dick, as you have touched the abs, deftly touching his tense stomach.

you caught him twice in the gym, when you wanted to wake up megumi, had stopped by the crack in the door, had a peek on toji's body: wet, strong, and tense as he was standing in the plank position.

you had allowed yourself to watch as he exercises, had forgotten about the task to wake his son - wet strands of dark color fell on his face, if you pussy can talk, it would definitely say: 'fuck me, toji.' thank god your vagina is incapable of spilling your desire.

the goosebumps had covered your body as you saw toji's eyes were focusing solely on you, when you turned your head to look at the time - six in the morning, - you quickly ran to the 'gumi's room, pretending you weren't stalking.

does it count as stalking? toji should lock the door, you were just.. staring as he was exercising.

the next time he asked you to count his push-ups. you were happy. you nodded as the response, counting, as toji suddenly ask a question.

'lay on my back, y/n.'

you barely answered: 'yes, daddy.' again, you nodded uncertainly, afraid to make the slightest movement. can he hold you? but you wanted to feel his strong body more than anything else, and besides - he's your boss, you have to obey him.

you did as you told: first, you sat on his butt, then you lay down on his back with your stomach. surprisingly, he bent his arms faster, like you were a feather.

'one hundred, mr. fushiguro.'

you get on the floor, kinda upset leaving his body.

'you are so easy, have you eaten? i'll order us some food, you should eat more.'

the 'compliment' that toji had addressed to you made you blushed, as you found yourself smiling, looking at his face. you show by the gesture sigh 'okay', left the room.

'and it's toji, for you.'

you had murmured his name in the nights when you were closed as now, masturbating your little clit, pronouncing his name.

'toji.'

he suggested you move in with him because it was difficult to get to his house - he lived far from the city and transportation didn't go to the place.

'toji~'

you purred the boss's name, as the orgasm with a tremble covered your body, leaving you desperate to quell his name in your hand. you were thinking that the owner of the name is sleeping like his son is, therefore you could please your needs.

he was awakened as hell - being a sorcerer killer giving him the opportunity to sneak up on the victim quietly. especially to the mere human like you, who haven't got any curse energy or a good ear to overhear as he's jerking his cock, listening how you're cumming.

a kind of 'we're even' when you peeked at him.

the thing you didn't know is - toji always had peeked on you. in the shower, in the kitchen when you're wearing those fucking tiny shorts or when you just-just have awakened, aimlessly stretching your arms above the head, exposing your breasts as your top went up.

always.

now you are thinking about his massive cock is filling the former empty pussy, thrusting harder when your harsh and resounding voice caresses his ears - a delight to 'em.

the squelches are filling the game room, as you put your legs around his torso, making him bend over towards your face and kiss you.

in this position he could kiss your peachy lips, demolishing the coil in your stomach by his cock.

as soon as you started to rock your hips towards his cock, he momentary started to fuck you mercilessly, feeling as you're dragging nails through his back - he wants to find in the morning a dozen of red stripes dotted on his broad back.

he moves on your neck, like a habit of marking your conspicuous collarbones with hickeys and bites, dragging your teeth across your shoulders, leaving through the way bites or kisses, groaned at your skin.

his back as a bare canvas and your fingers are brushed with which you skillfully paint indecipherable red patterns.

your hole is constricting as toji started to fuck you brainless, grabbing your thighs, leaving a trail of half-moons there, driving the cock all the way in, balls slapping against your ass, prompting squelches that echo around the room.

thanks, megumi had never see as his father fucks the babysitter. megumi once called you mom, but you explained that you ain't his mom, in the response, you heard:

'but my dada [dad] said i can call you my mom'

you saw as toji smiles, waiting for your answer. then you have begun to know each other as partners. toji had known you're gonna the perfect mom and wifey.

'megumi will wake up soon.'

'i will take care of him.'

he kissed your lips before distracted himself from your lips to rock your uterus hard. you're both at your limit, feeling the breath becoming short and the heart beginning to pound frantically - soon the both of you will reach your orgasm.

he put your arm on the tummy, entering as far as it goes, as you felt his cock protrude. he murmured softly through gritted teeth: 'i'm here, baby.'

toji tossed his hand back, when the strands have finally covered his view of you, staring at your cute facial emotions as you're closing your eyes tight, shrinking the hole, milking his cock to cover walls in the white hue.

'cum with me, doll, cum, cum, cum-'

you have come first, creating a ring around his base, sucking out his sperm. his groaning filled the whole room as he fills your walls with his semen. the cock still pulsing in your hole that has been squeezing.

he bent your body over, making you lay down on his chest with the cock inside. your heart beats frantically in your chest as you both try to regain your breath. you squeeze his cock once more, feeling your joined fluid oozing slightly from your hole.

he put his hand behind his head, the other holding your waist. your body trembles slightly in a post-orgasmic state - toji is ready for round two, you can see it in his smug face.

'my good girl, you are my little girl'

you kissed his chest, moving towards his lips, wiggling hips to tease your lover.

'say it again, toji.'

'that you're my pretty little girl or that i love you so much, which one?'

you like hearing toji saying he loves you, kiss your palms and one finger on which he wants to wear a ring that will bind you by the bonds of marriage.

he's certain right now - he had found his family. his wife. he gently kisses your face, as if afraid to scare you off, pulling out his flaccid cock, to bring you as soon as it possible to his face, letting you sit on his stomach.

you run your hands over his strong shoulders, giggling - how he will explain that scratches to megumi? he ran his pads over your tired body, touching you lightly on your oozing crotch.

'love, we should take a bath.'

'not before i dot your body with kisses'

he again bent you over on your stomach, kissing the back of the shoulders, slowly coming down on your butt. as an apology, he grabbed your butt softly, leaving on the red butt-cheeks kisses.

he might be a psycho while spanking you, although always making out with kisses through all your body.

'megumi is probably have woken up, toji~'

'lay down here, princess, i will take care of our son'

he pulled on his sweatpants as he left the room. sex with him at times like this - is exhausting. you didn't notice how he covered you with a sheet before feeding his son. megumi asked him where you are, but toji answered him in a manly way:

'she's resting now after having s-, after playing, 'gumi'

'playin'? why i didn't play?'

he only sighed as he helped his son to eat. a childish question that he could have answered, but he didn't.

when you woke up, you found out toji's head between your legs as he licked you. you didn't try to push him away, you just spread your legs wide.

'you're awake now, baby.'

he kissed your inner thigh, wrapping his teeth around your clit, not biting it, just feeling how tender it is.

'toji, where's megumi?'

you literally jumped out of bed if it wasn't for his hand on your knee. he kisses your hole, clearly hearing you purr.

'baby, he's playing in the garden. focus on the euphoric feeling.'

regardless of still being tired from the spicy hours, you gave yourself to his tongue, allowing him to bring you one more orgasm before you will walk to the megumi to say good morning.

the only thing better than toji's tongue - his thick cock.

you had enough for a few minutes, lavishing his mouth with liquid. he chuckled, licking up all the drops, moving closer to your face to give you a morning kiss.

'good morning, little one.'

* * *

i'm sorry again for the mistakes and the long oneshot, maybe, you don't like big ones and i should make drabbles? it must a drabble, tho. okay, 0.3 notes [because i know it's huge, and you love drabble rather than os] and i'll write abt dilf satoru gojo?

↳ back to the main master list.

[seijorhi]

To the Wolves

my (first) entry for the Deal With the Devil collab, because i couldn’t resist writing for Yakuza Getou <33

Getou Suguru x Female Reader

TW Extremely dubious consent, coercion, manipulation, threats, implied murder, smut, nsfw

“No. I- I won’t.”

Sitting comfortably on the old, worn couch in your cramped little apartment, Getou raises a single eyebrow, “Oh? Is that so?”

His voice is perfectly pleasant, the smile on his face a touch amused, but you’re not so naive as to believe that the question is anything but a generous offer for you to rethink your reply. A smart person would take it – since the day you’d first arrived home to find him waiting for you, Getou hadn’t so much as laid a finger on you. He had no need for guns or knives, never shouted or bullied you, his reputation more than enough to cow you into submission before he’d even opened his mouth.

Of course, once he had, the simple threats to your friends and family’s lives had made certain that you were more than amenable to his request.

A mutually beneficial arrangement, he’d called it, as if there hadn’t been tears silently streaming down your face, your whole body stiff with fear. 

But that was the world he came from. Violence and ruthlessness, cruelty masquerading as kindness.

By all accounts, someone like you – a lowly admin assistant living a very boring, mundane life – should never have crossed paths with a man like Getou. The irony, of course, being that it was precisely because of your job that he’d been drawn to you in the first place. 

“I-I said no,” you stammer. “I’m not doing it.”

Getou sighs, long, pale fingers idly fixing the cuff of his left sleeve. “I had no idea the lives of your loved ones meant so little to you.”  

“Please, I-” you break off, biting your lip as your hands curl into useless fists at your side, “I can’t. Anything else, I’ll do anything, I swear it, just… please.”

Men like Getou aren’t the type to be swayed by pretty words or tearful pleas, but there’s an unmistakable glimmer of interest that flickers in his eyes at the offer. Casually, he leans forward, resting his chin on the palm of his hand and regarding you with a smirk. “So you’ll bring me the list of witnesses then?”

The barely audible hitch in your breath is enough to make him chuckle.

“No? How about those surveillance tapes, hm?” Smoothly, he rises to his feet and makes his way towards you. “Careful, little one, first rule of negotiation is knowing when you have something to bargain with. Don’t promise me what you can’t give.”

“Getou–”

He raises a hand and you quickly fall silent. There’s only inches between you two now, Getou’s taller, broader frame looming over yours. He could kill you like this, you realise with panic – reach out and wrap his hands around your throat and snap your pretty little neck before you could so much as scream. The tailored line of his jacket hides the gun he has holstered at his side, but Getou knows you're aware of its presence, have been since the very first time he’d broken into your home and threatened you. 

It’d take him only moments to draw the sidearm, even less for him to pull the trigger.

The walls of your apartment are thin, would your neighbours come if they heard gunfire? Would you, for that matter, if your roles were reversed?

Yet Getou makes no move for his gun, instead reaching for your chin, tilting it up with two curled fingers until you meet his gaze, “You understand, don’t you, that I make one phone call and that charming sister of yours and her fiance meet a very tragic, very untimely end?”

He pauses, waiting until you jerk a quick nod of assent before continuing. “You love them. There’s nothing wrong with that, nothing wrong with prioritising the ones you love over everybody else.” His voice is gentle, but the words make you shake, dread rising from the pit of your stomach as the pad of his thumb grazes over your bottom lip. 

You don’t know if you’re supposed to say something to that, but even as you try, you can’t summon the words. The by now familiar scent of his cologne tickles your nose and invades your throat, the warmth of his touch burning through your veins. Your own heart hammers like a drumbeat in your chest, every cell in your body screaming danger, but you don’t run, you don’t even flinch.

Getou smiles kindly, and perhaps if you hadn’t seen first hand the aftermath of his handiwork you might be tempted to believe it. His spare hand reaches into his jacket, but instead of the gun you’re expecting, he pulls out his phone, the screen flickering to life with a swipe of his finger. “So tell me, before I make a call you and I both know you don’t want me to make, why you’ve suddenly decided that their lives aren’t worth your compliance?”

Nanami. Your boss’s face flashes to your mind, the odd, fleeting glances he’d sent your way over the past few weeks when he’d thought you weren’t paying attention. Your stomach erupts with butterflies, your cheeks unwittingly warming, but you just shake your head, “If I give you those files, you’ll kill them. You’ll hurt them.”

“Maybe,” he hums, “maybe not. It’s no less than those monkeys deserve, don’t you think?” He spits the word like it’s venom, the twitch in his jaw the only chink in his otherwise effortless composure. “You’re protecting them, even now.”

You make no attempt to defend yourself, terrified of saying the wrong thing and setting him off, but Getou seems entirely unfazed, laughing coldly at your stricken expression.

“Your boss, the one with the perpetual stick up his ass; Nanami,” potent disdain drips from his tone at the name, “Always so morally righteous, sitting up on his high horse. You think he cares for you, that he’ll protect you when all of this comes out? And it will come out eventually,” he says, his smirk widening at the sudden pallor in your face. “At some point there’ll be one too many unfortunate coincidences, and the higher ups will realise that they have a mole in their ranks. Fingers will be pointed of course, but eventually even those idiots will figure it out.”

A knot tightens inside of your chest at his words, constricting until it feels like you can’t breathe. You’re shaking your head, eyes filling with tears, “N-no–”

“Oh, little one,” Getou murmurs, dark eyes drinking in every ounce of your distress. “Surely you realised that they have security cameras covering every inch of your floor? There was no reason to look before, but once they do…” he trails off, letting go of your chin in favour of brushing the back of his knuckles along your cheek. “They’ll throw you to the wolves.”

His voice is soft and cruel, belied by the gentleness of his touch, but it does nothing to quell the rising sense of dread inside of you. You want to believe it’s a lie, another threat meant to scare you into submission, but some deeper part of you recognises the truth in his words. 

Nanami, who’d told you once that there was innocence and there was guilt and very little in between. Nanami, whose office you’d bugged, whose trial only weeks ago you’d all but derailed with a few misplaced documents. You think back to the late nights shared in his office, bowls of ramen and case files scattered across the desk between you. You think of the rare smiles, his oddly dry sense of humour, the pleasant fluttering in your heart–

“You’ll rot in prison long before I do, and there is not a soul among that insipid bunch that would lift a finger to stop that from happening to you.” 

A soft, strangled noise leaves your lips as you fight not to sob, and Getou sighs, the corners of his lips twitching downwards in contrived sympathy. “Say the word and I’ll walk away tonight. I’ll still have to kill your sister – I am a man of my word, you understand – but I promise it’ll be the last you see of me.”

He slides his phone back into the breast pocket of his jacket, taking your face in both of his hands as tears spill down long lashes. “And when they come for you, you can tell them I threatened you, show them what little proof you have – if you have any at all. Maybe it’ll even make a difference,” he says. “But I doubt it.”

Every word is like a knife, slicing away at the raw, bleeding, vulnerable parts of you.

“Please…” It’s weak and desperate, your voice cracked and broken. You don’t even know what you’re begging for anymore; your sister’s life, for Getou’s mercy, or maybe just for him to stop saying such awful things. He must take pity on you though, because he sighs once more, his right thumb sweeping across your wet cheek to brush away silvery tear tracks. 

“I’m not a complete monster, you know. I protect what’s mine.”

And in one breath, everything screeches to a standstill and a trickle of very real fear creeps down your spine. There’s no mistaking his implication, not when he’s holding your face like that, his eyes dark and simmering with an intensity that makes your stomach flip.

“W-what?”

Getou closes the gap between you two, a startled noise leaving your lips as his hips press flush up against you. “Don’t play stupid, sweet thing,” he murmurs, and it sounds like a warning, “It doesn’t suit you.”

One hand slips to your neck, the other curling almost possessively around your waist. There’s no room for you to move, to back away or free yourself. For a moment, neither of you speak, the heavy silence deafening between you.

Does he notice the way your pulse races under his fingertips as they circle your throat, how you’re shaking like a leaf beneath him? Does he want you afraid? A scared little bunny rabbit cowering from the gaping maw of the big, bad wolf? 

Judging from the bulge of his semi-hard cock pressing into the soft flesh of your belly, he’s not entirely unaffected, and for the first time it’s not Getou’s gun or his threats that you’re most afraid of. 

It’s the selfish, twisted want that glitters and glints in those pitiless depths. You’ve never felt so entirely at somebody else’s mercy as you do with Getou now, staring you down like he wants to lay you bare, claim you again and again for all the world to see. And you don’t understand. There’s a thousand and one questions running through your mind, your insides twisted up into knots. 

You know what it is he’s asking of you – though asking feels like a generous word when he can so easily just take – but none of this makes sense, not when he was threatening your family’s lives only minutes ago. 

As if he can sense the turmoil and confusion raging through you, he leans down, his lips ghosting over the outer shell of your ear. “Tell me to stop, and I’ll walk away right now.”

I am a man of my word. 

His earlier statement rings through your head as you search his face for any sign of deception – you find none. But walking away means your sister dies. It means you’re left on your own to fend off the wolves when they find out what you’ve done.

Nanami might believe you. He might even defend you, but you’ve worked in the Prosecutor’s office long enough to know that duress isn’t the bulletproof defence people think it is, and for tangling with the likes of him…

You were screwed the moment he showed up in your living room, this- this is just the coup de grâce. The final damnation.

“Why me?” 

Getou doesn’t answer, but when he draws you into a kiss, his lips moving torturously slow against yours, there’s an edge of… something there, lying hidden just beneath the surface. And it terrifies you, more than his words and his promises ever could.

But when your back’s to the wall, what choice do you really have?

It feels like defeat when he takes you by the hand and leads you into your bedroom, ignoring the uncertain glance you cast over your shoulder towards the living room. You don’t want any of this, but you can pretend that it’s just… business if he fucks you out there.

Not in the bed you sleep in.

It’d be easier, you think, if it was cold and impersonal. If you cried and it stung and the only sounds in the room were flesh hitting flesh, ragged breathing and an occasional rough grunt.

There’s nothing impersonal about the way he watches you strip out of your clothes at his command. His own join yours on the floor without much ceremony – his gun pointedly set just within reach atop your nightstand.

The first time you’d laid eyes on Getou Suguru, it was two months into your new job; a photograph pinned to a thick, heavy file Nanami had dropped on your desk. A surveillance picture, you’d gathered, snapped as the man was exiting some neon lit club downtown. And you remembered the smug smirk he’d had, staring directly down the lens of the camera like it was a challenge, but that wasn’t what had struck you most.

It was the flutter of interest that’d shot through your veins the moment before common sense kicked in. Tall and fit, with long, dark hair swept up in the wind, a sharp jaw and a handsome face, you remember thinking he was probably the most attractive man you’d ever seen.

Now, standing naked before you, bright, colourful tattoos inked across his torso, accentuating the muscles that rise and fall with every measured breath, you can’t bear to look. It’s easier just to stare at the wooden floorboards, the corner of the shagged rug you’d bought at a thrift store when you first moved in. Easier to pretend Getou isn’t pulling you closer once more, pressing searing, open mouthed kisses along your neck, murmuring words that are lost to you entirely as his hands wander. You can feel it now, the heat of his body as he cages you in, his cock, thick and heavy and flushed nudging insistently up against your stomach.

You expect him to shove you to your knees, to force his cock down your throat in some archaic show of dominance before he claims your cunt, but he doesn’t. 

“I want you to touch yourself for me,” he whispers into your ear, teeth catching lightly on the sensitive lobe as you shiver. “Like you do when I’m not here, those pretty legs spread, fucking yourself on your fingers…”

The comment feels too familiar to be entirely offhanded, striking a chord of panic somewhere deep inside of you–

But it doesn’t make a difference. It doesn’t matter now.

You allow him to kiss you again before climbing onto the mattress. Like a good girl, you fall back onto the pillows, let your legs ease apart, wrapping your lips around two fingers and sucking for a brief moment before gliding your hand down between your thighs. 

His breath hitches, a soft curse sounding when saliva slicked digits spread your folds, the tip of your middle finger brushing lightly against your clit as you stroke your pussy. Your nipples harden and peak under the cool night air and you use your free hand to palm at your breast, pinching and teasing at the sensitive bud while one finger slips into the warmth of your cunt. 

The mattress dips, Getou climbing onto the bed, settling himself back on his knees, your spread legs either side of him.

“Beautiful,” he breathes. 

Your heart stutters, movements jerking as you brace for him to interfere, to touch you, but aside from nudging your thighs further apart to get a better view of your glistening cunt, he seems content simply to sit back and watch, his own hand lazily stroking at his cock.

Trying in vain to block him out, you squeeze your eyes shut and focus on the way your fingers feel between your legs, the pleasure–

 (Not the shame, don’t think about that, don’t think about Getou watching you debase yourself for his enjoyment)

–that pools in your core as you rub the shining pearl of your clit. It’s a familiar dance, a routine you’d normally help along with a glass of wine and a few faithful toys, but you don’t exactly have that luxury here.

And even with the rigid tension in your shoulders, the unwanted presence of a man you’re terrified of impossible to ignore, you can’t help the quiet moan that slips past your lips, the way your hips stutter, grinding against the heel of your palm as your fingers hit that sweet, delightful spot inside of you. 

Getou tenses at the sound, the last, fragile thread of his composure snapping–

He strikes fast. One moment you’re biting down on your bottom lip, your index and middle fingers knuckle deep in your dripping pussy, the next he’s braced atop you, one hand locked around your wrist, the other propping himself up. And as your eyes fly open with a startled cry, his lips crash against your once more – desperate and ravenous, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth to taste you.

And you don’t fight it when he pulls your hand from your pussy and drags it to his crotch, his fingers entwining with yours as he wraps them around his heavy, throbbing cock and moans. It’s humiliating, the way he thrusts into your hand, tightening his grip so you’re forced to feel every shivery twitch of his dick while he sucks eagerly on your tongue.

This is the choice you’d made, the deal you struck. It’s too late to back out now, and even if you tried to… 

“I want you,” he pants, his lips glistening with saliva, an almost manic look in those dark, pretty eyes, “to ride me.”

… you’re not so sure Getou would let you.

So you allow yourself to be manhandled, lifted and situated across his lap like a doll. Hands braced on his tattooed chest, you lift your hips just enough for him to guide his cock to your slick entrance before slowly sinking down onto his length.

Every inch hurts. 

It doesn’t make it any less painful, the way Getou soothes you, his thumbs stroking gently at your waist as you whine and mewl, feeling every ridge and vein of his cock as he stuffs you full.

“Fuck– good girl, taking me so well,” he purrs.

You’re not sure if it’s shame, pleasure, or some sense of twisted pride at the praise that has your pussy clenching, fire racing through your veins when Getou experimentally rocks his hips upwards. And if your cheeks weren’t already burning, the lewd moan that escapes you when the head of his cock hits your g-spot would certainly do the trick. 

Ever observant, he wastes no time capitalising on your slip, lifting you up just to drive you back down onto his length at the perfect angle. You shudder around him, keening out a cry that has him groaning in pleasure.

There’s no illusion of control here between you two.

You might be the one on top, but Getou’s grip’s too tight, guiding every roll of your hips against his, his own rising in time to fuck his cock deeper into your warm, velvety cunt. And somewhere distantly you recognise that this could be a thousand times worse. How easily he could change the narrative in a heartbeat, flip you over, force your face into the pillows and fuck you like a dog until you’re gasping for air. He could use you, hurt you, probably kill you without ever needing to touch the gun he’d left on your nightstand – and you wouldn’t have a hope in hell of stopping him.

But he doesn’t. Lying back against your pillows, dark hair falling from his half up-do, cheeks flushed from exertion, Getou’s attention is wholly fixed on you - on your face, eyes screwed shut, bottom lip caught between your teeth as he hits somewhere deep inside of you that has you seeing stars, on your tits, the way they bounce every time you sink back down onto his cock.

His eyes are hooded, dark and intense, searching for every hint of pleasure he’s drawn from you. You gasp his name, fingers digging into his chest, your cunt fluttering so deliciously around him – and he loses that last little bit of his self control. 

He jerks upright, one arm wrapping around your waist to anchor you to him as he braces himself with the other, and before you can so much as gasp his mouth is at your tits, hot tongue laving at soft, supple skin there.

“Suguru,” he growls, hips snapping feverishly against yours. 

“Suguru,” you parrot, head lolling back as heat coils tighter in your core. 

You’ll worry about the consequences later, when he pulls you boneless and sated into his arms and you feel his heart thumping at your back as he kisses you and tells you to sleep. When tomorrow you arrive at work and Nanami stares a beat too long as the love bites scattered across your throat, no doubt wondering why you won’t so much as look at him.

For now, you settle for pulling him closer, gasping as you chase that quaking, blissful end.

[fbfh]

Frank Zhang relationship and intimacy hcs

As with all nsfw/smutty/sexy stuff, all characters are aged to 18+

That being said

Let’s get into it

‘,:)

(warnings under cut)

Warnings: brief mentions of size kinks, belly bulges, frank generally towering over you/being bigger than you cause he’s fuckin huge, oral/fingering (y/n recieving), gradually getting a little rough upon reader’s request, he’s surprisingly easy to fluster

//

So first of all, two things

Frank’s a big guy

Like

A really really fucking big dude

Some sources say he’s 6’3, other’s say he’s 6’5

6-foot-motherfucking-5

Either way there’s a good chance he’s taller than you

Which is nice for a lot of reasons

One of which is that his size carries over into

Other areas

Second, he’s definitely a service top I don’t make the rules

Okay I do but I’m not changing them

I’m going to give you a hard truth

He probably has the biggest girthiest dick out of everyone

By a somewhat small margin

I’m not naming names

So he’s very good at prep

Very good at it

He will have no hesitations or reservations about going down on you and fingering you for a substantial amount of time

Oh my god his fingers

He’s been doing archery for years

He knows what he’s doing with them

So let’s be honest

There’s no way he doesn’t have at least a little bit

Just a teeny tiny bit of a size kink

I mean come on

You’re so cute and tiny to him no matter what size you are

Plus the fact that he’s probably a fair bit taller than you

Oh no now you have to be his cute lil s/o

His arms

His arms

Are incredible

When you’re intimate he’ll either sort of cage you in

Cause he doesn’t want to smoosh you

Or if you’re on top

He has his arms around you, guiding you as you go

He can’t really help this but you think it’s really hot so it’s fine

But he sometimes growls a little??

Like actually growls

It’s the whole shape shifting thing

It kind of slips out sometimes

But it’s really really hot

He gets all breathy

You can feel the heat radiating off his body

And he’ll let out this little moan that turns into a growl

It latches onto your nervous system and sends electricity down your spine

It’s Very Effective

You’ll definitely have a bit of a belly bulge when he’s inside you too

Like at this point how could you not

It’s really hot honestly

You might not even realize until his hand gently rests on your stomach

And you realize you can both feel him inside you

Taking all of him is a bit of a feat

But it’s well worth the effort

Have you seen the hamster and the banana?????

Have you seen it??????

And oh my god he is so gentle with you

He’s so fucking ripped and so delicate with you

You’re just so precious to him that he takes really good care to make sure he’s careful with you

His big strong hands dance delicately up your sides

He’ll press feather light kisses on you lips and jaw, breath fanning over your ear

He’s so so gentle with you

But like

If you want him to get a little rougher

He can totally do that

It will probably be pretty slowly built up because again

He’s real big and strong, and he cares about you way too much to risk taking anything a step too far

Once you get into a good rhythm

Oh boy oh my golly

He’s almost impossible to tire out

There’s a chance you could if you’re really into him

And if you manage to really tire him out

It will make him big blushy flustered

It’s kind of funny cause once he’s out of sexytime brain

He gets so flustered

Like he went down on you an hour ago and now you laying half naked next to him has him red in the face

It’s honestly really really cute

He’s a really gr8 boyfriend, 10/10 v underrated

[salemwritesxx]

↳ bottom tanjiro x male reader (7ft / 213cm)

request: hi! if your requests are open, can we have a tanjiro x male reader who’s 7’0 and everytime reader fucks him, his belly bulges and reader can’t help but tease tanjiro and tell him how small his cute little dick is

w.count: 2.4k

content warning: smut, porn without plot, belly bulging, small dick worshipping / teasing, height & size difference, big dick penetration

------------------------------------------------------------

“Y-Y/n!”, closing his scarlet eyes tightly, Tanjiro threw his head back against the futon whilst arching his back, another breathless moan escaping his lips when he felt your big hands against his thighs, massaging and squeezing them lightly.

“That’s it, my love, don’t stop, show me how good you feel.”, the deep purr sent a shiver down his spine, making him moan even louder and push his calloused fingers in deeper.

He was laying on the futon, legs spread and his own two digits thrusting into his little hole, showing you how messy and soft he already was. Plant oil was already dripping onto the sheets you had laid out in order to keep the futon from becoming sticky and oily.

“Ahhh, I… I feel like… I’m going crazy…Y/n!”, Kamado whimpered and moaned, tears rolling down his cute red face, though you simply chuckled.

“Shhh, it’s okay, Darling. We need to prepare you properly, no? I don’t want to hurt you.”, your deep voice was calming him down a bit, especially once you leaned in to softly kiss away the tears, though Tanjiro still felt like he was losing his mind any second. He was craving your big cock, he was addicted to the love you two made, even if it was embarrassing to admit it.

Suddenly, you reached down and pulled his hands back, earning is disgruntled whiny moan as he was now empty, though the “Thank you for the little show, Jiro. But it’s my turn to properly take care of you.” made his heart almost leap out of his chest.

Watching you with teary eyes as you rose and sat back, just to hiccup your name quietly when you took a few pillows and pushed them underneath his ass - so you didn’t have to lean down as far due to your size. Drizzling some oil onto your fingers, the anticipation was almost too much for Tanjiro.

The moment you thrusted your thick fingers into his messy hole, he was throwing his head back once more, one hand instinctively covering his mouth to hide his loud, whiny moan, though his body was reacting differently. Completely willingly pushing his ass back against your fingers, he welcomed all three of them, sucking on them with his pulsating walls.

“Hmhhm”, you snickered and then, due to his higher positioned ass, you leaned down easily to softly blow against his little dick, watching as it twitched and leaked precum. “So cute… Everything about you is so small and cute, Tanjiro. I adore you, Darling.”

“Ahnh!”, it was impossible for him to answer, too shy and tongue-tied due to your words that made him so happy and embarrassed at the same time, his heartbeat being crazily fast. His ass tightened around your fingers instantly once your warm, wet mouth completely engulfed his cute, little cock. His loud cry was only muffled by his hand pressing onto his own face.

His free hand was gripping your hair, burying his fingers into it and digging his nails into your scalp as you started sucking his little dick, playing with his foreskin and letting your wet tongue tease his precum leaking tip while his hips were bucking against your mouth a bit due to overwhelming pleasure.

“Y/n! Y/n!”, blissfully calling your name, he threw his head from side to side in order to not lose complete control over himself, the way your mouth was so hot and wet around his little cock and your fingers spreading him, Tanjiro was so close to letting loose.

Pulling back with a little pop, your e/c eyes were fixated on him, looking into his face he tried to hide behind his hand while your tongue teasingly flicked against his little hole – with the amount of precum he produces you knew he was very, very close. But you didn’t let it get far.

“HAhAHN!”, almost not able to muffle his sounds anymore, it was over when you pulled out your fingers and your mouth away from his little dick. Kamado was gasping and crying when his hand slipped from his face, revealing how red and tear-stained it already was, hence you leaned forward.

“You are such a good boy, Tanjiro. Did that feel good, hm? Having your little cock sucked and your ass fingered, yeah?”, your huge frame was hovering above him, your warm lips kissing on his tear-stained cheeks when he nodded and wrapped his arms around your broad shoulders, whispering a mere “It…It felt so good, Y/n…” while holding onto you with all his strength that was left in his small body.

“Please, I…I want the real thing, Y/n…”, he then whispered under little hiccups, scarlet eyes only half-opened as he looked up into your handsome face. “Please…”

For a few seconds, you only stared at him, before a smile flitted across your lips and you nodded.

“Alright. But I have a request, Jiro.”

“I- I’ll do anything for you. You know that.”, Tanjiro smiled crookedly and yet so lovingly as he pulled you down to nuzzle his head against yours.

“Hmm, me too, Darling.”, softly nudging his head, you then kissed his forehead, before leaning your own against his to whisper, “Will you ride me? Let me see all of you. I want to watch you feel good.”

Once your words seeped into his mind, Kamado was incredibly red, but he also shyly smiled and nodded in the end, quietly saying an “Okay, then look at me, Y/n. For as long as you want.” before you both changed positions; Tanjiro kicking the pillows away so you could lay down properly.

Crawling on top of you, he had to gulp a little as his little dick was aligned with your big cock, his messy hole immediately twitching in anticipation when his calloused hands wrapped around you, your size getting him very excited.

After listening to your own little growls and groans as he stroked you to smear your own precum and plant oil around, he positioned himself on shaky legs, relieved that you instantly grabbed his hips to hold and help him.

“Aha! Nhh!”, moaning out without restraint, Tanjiro threw his head back when your huge cockhead spread his little hole; thanks to his preparation and the oil, you slipped in effortlessly. Slowly, with your help, he let himself sink down, taking your cock inch by inch, the massive size taking his breath away as his walls were literally shivering and pulsating around your cock the more you entered him.

With sheer excitement, his cute little dick was twitching and moving while he swallowed your big one under blissful moaning and groaning. Until he finally pushed down the last inch with a hard thrust to bury it all inside of him, making him almost cry out in overwhelming pleasure, legs shaking so incredibly much while his tummy was visibly bulging due to your huge cock inside his little ass.

“Fuck, Tanjiro… Holy shit, look at you. You’re so incredible. So…fucking incredible.”, you couldn’t hold back your delightful curses as you grabbed his hips almost a little too hard to not lose your mind with how tight he was, Kamado himself breathing heavily and holding onto your hands or he would have emptied his cute dick right then and there onto your torso.

“Y/n… I… feel soo good…”, Tanjiro almost only slurred, his hair all ruffled up due to how much he was throwing his head around when the pleasure became too much.

“I’m glad, Darling.”, you were always composed, but right now, Tanjiro was so incredibly happy and proud of himself to make your own voice shake, knowing he was the reason you were not calm and collected.

“I- I’ll move, okay?”, he asked for permission even though he knew he didn’t need to, but seeing your little nod was important to him, thus, he slowly started grinding on top of you, your big hand that was on his tummy rubbing against the visible bulge, before you slid down and started playing with his little dick again, immediately earning his whimper.

You didn’t know how it was possible that such a fearsome demon slayer, who went through so much, could be so, so… so incredibly cute. How he was melting on top of you, being destroyed by your big cock penetrating him was so adorable.

Tanjiro’s cute little dick bouncing with every thrust. Every time he came down hard, his tummy bulged and his cute cock moved as well, all while he was moaning without holding back anymore, maybe also because one hand was holding your own, your fingers intertwined, knowing you weren’t grossed out by his scarred hand – never.

Squeezing his hand softly, you encouraged him to keep going. Tanjiro’s free one was resting on his bulging belly - making him even more turned on. Seeing and feeling his body moving like that, loving the way he was feeling your cock so vividly in his tight little hole, while also being proud of himself for effortlessly taking it like that.

“Tanjiro…”, the groans made his heart jump and he squeezed your hand a little harder. Slowly, he increased his pace as he started to truly ride you, slamming his hips down onto your cock, making his own bounce happily until you engulfed it with your hand and thus, in return, making him whimper and moan.

“God, look at your little dick. It’s so small and cute. And so sensitive.”, your raspy laughter sent a chill up his spine, your teasing words only getting him more turned on as he squeaked a high-pitched “Hmhh” before he had to gasp for breath once you pulled down his foreskin to expose his red, sensitive tip.

“N-noo Y/n.. I… Ahhh”, even though he said no, he was still pushing and bucking against your hand so desperately when you rubbed your thick thumb over the sensitive little head, your chuckled “Do you really want me to stop, Darling? Your tiny little dick loves the attention, just look how red it is. And how wet.” making him sob in bliss and afterwards merely mutter, “N-Noo, d-don’t stop, p-please…”

And you didn’t stop, more the opposite, making sure to rub his cockhead thoroughly to hear his beautiful, whiny cries. Tanjiro’s legs twitching together whenever he felt like it was too much, his little dick just too sensitive to handle all the these things, he really was so close to releasing his cum all over your tummy.

“Y/n, Y/n!”, like a spell, your name was dripping from his lips as his movements became more erratic and sloppy, ramming your thick cock into his messy hole, hitting his sweet spot that he felt his tummy bulging against his hand every time, thus making him even more riled up knowing how deeply you penetrated him.

“Look, you are oozing so much. Your little cock really likes being rubbed like that, hm?”, you teased and asked him again, making Tanjiro merely whimper and nod as he slammed his hips down one last time before grinding and moving against your rubbing hand.

“R-Rub…Rub it more, p-please. Touch me… I-I can't hold… it…”, he sobbed and cried while digging the nails into the back of your hand he was holding.

“As you wish, Darling. Let it all out, let’s watch your cute little dick being overwhelmed.”, your own little gasps were interrupting you here and there, due to how much your lover was griding against your cock, while his whimpery, approved “Hmhm” made you grin.

Moaning your name once more, Kamado was desperately gasping for breath, before he started riding you one last time, your cock hitting him so deeply, letting you watch how it rearranged his insides with his belly visibly bulging whenever he came down hard. He loved the way you stared at him with your glazed e/c eyes.

“AHnhH!”, desperately bucking his hips against your fingers, he was so close and your own breathless moans told him you were also not going to last much longer, hence why, Tanjiro took the last bit of strength he had left in his body to really slam his hips down, riding you so vigorously that his ass was audibly slapping against your skin. You even had to let go of his small cock to grab his thigh because the way he rode you drove you literally crazy in the best way possible.

“Fuck, fuck! Tanjiro!”, hearing your deep moan and watching your in lust twisted face, he only moaned your name in response, his dick bouncing against his own bulging tummy now due to his hard movements.

“I-I… I am going crazy, ahh!”, he cried out one last time before he arched his back almost so much you thought it might snap. His little dick was cumming so hard as seed squirted onto your torso, while his ass was pulsating and literally sucking you in so much that you couldn’t hold back either, letting your hips thrust only a few more times before you released it all inside, making Tanjiro whine even louder as he felt your hot fluids fill him up.

Gasping for breath, he stayed on top of you for a few seconds, savoring the moment of being stuffed with cum, until he slowly and shakily raised his hips, your own hiss as you helped him and watched your thick cock slip out slowly making him whimper blissfully.

Eventually, your huge dick slipped out and slapped back against your tummy while cum was dripping out of his messy hole, though you couldn’t stare for much longer as he collapsed beside you onto the futon at last, still gasping and delirious.

“Hmm”, however, an immediate delightful hum escaped his closed lips when your strong, big arms wrapped around his small body. Your lips were kissing along his cute face, whilst you gently pushed the messy hair out of it with your hand.

“I love you, Darling.”, peppering sweet kisses onto his cheek and neck, you whispered these love-filled words against his skin, his happily giggled, “I love you too, Y/n.” made you also chuckle a little.

Snuggling against your big, warm body, he knew you both were in need of a bath, but for now, he simply relished this very rare, quiet moment with you where there was no fighting, no demons, no Nezuko to worry about, just you two laying on the futon and listening to each other’s sweet nothings and little giggles as you exchanged loving words and kisses.

------------------------------------------------------------

@salemwritesxx || do not repost, edit, modify or translate my works

writer’s note: i want tanjiro to ride me so hard my hips break 😩 since this was my first request, i hope it was enjoyable to read!

[westcoastrry]

Can’t Help If This Is Us

Hello friends. I’ve worked super hard on this fic. I’m not a fast writer so this took my while and I’m super happy with the way it turned out! Special thank to my bestie @harryforvogue​ . I wouldn’t know how to spell or about even write if it wasn’t for her so thanks you ugly fart face.

Also I wrote this entirely for free so all I ask is for feedback. I would really appreciate it and would love to hear your thoughts!

literally mate please let me know your thoughts. PLEASE. I beg.

WARNING: there is smut in this and mentions of the mafia.

I hope you enjoy reading Kiara and Harry’s story as much an I enjoyed writing it. 11.5k words

A fic about Kiara, a normal girl who works at a coffee shop in the upper east side of New York, where she meets Harry. A man who is caught up in a job he doesn’t want but is working hard to craft a better life for himself.

Fuck me like you wanna make love

Call me when you wanna stay in touch

Lie together just to gain trust

Say what you wanna say, can't help if this is us

Moving to New York was a fresh start for Kiara.

It’s only been a couple of months, but she has grown accustomed to the city.

She has an apartment in a not-so-great part of town, but it is close to her University, and the view from her balcony isn’t too bad. She is a coffee connoisseur, so when her pregnant friend and neighbor, Trina, helped her get a job at a cafe on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, how could Kiara truly not make the best of her newfound city life?

“An Americano please?” a deep British voice asserts.

Kiara’s cleaning off the steamer about an hour into her morning shift when the man with long chocolate curls speaks to her. Kiara has been working here for a month, and some very high profile people have come to the shop, but Kiara has never seen this man, but he sure looks important. He is in a suit, all black, and the only accessories are the multitude of rings he has on his fingers. The rose one catches her eye first, then the big gold H.S letter rings. Those are his initials? What is the point of that? Is this man obsessed with himself?

“Americano?” he says more lightly, snapping Kiara out of her thoughts.

“Sorry, I- Americano,” Kiara stutters.

Kiara isn’t one to get easily flustered, but how can she not be when this six-foot sexy man was towering over her in a suit, asking for black coffee.

Only real men drink black coffee.

She works around the machine expertly until the man’s voice interrupts her. “You’re new here?”

“Yeah,” she responds, swiping a curl off her forehead. Managing her naturally curly type four hair in the bipolar New York weather has been a challenge. Most days, she wears her thick hair in a bun, or when she can afford to get it done, box braids. “Started working here a month ago.” Kiara hands him the coffee in a brown to-go cup.

“Hmmm. I’m here all the time. I’m sure I would have noticed a new pretty employee.”

“Guess I’m not all that pretty then,” Kiara fires back, handing him a receipt with a pen to sign.

Harry doesn’t really know what to say to that because he actually does find Kiara pretty. He likes that her face is an even brown color with a few beauty marks. He likes the color of her light brown hair, and he really likes the sound of her voice. It’s sort of angelic, even when she is snapping at him.

Harry smugly hands Kiara his hefty card (the first indicator that this man has money) and signs the receipt. He drops some cash on the bill.

“That’s your tip. By the way, I do think you’re pretty.” His eyes flick down to her name tag. “Kiara.”

Kiara rolls her eyes at the man. He probably walks around life getting everything handed to him because he’s rich, white, and hot.

Screw him and his stupid cute dimple, Kiara thinks to herself. She goes to grab the receipt he signed and see’s two fifty-dollar bills stacked on each other.

Her mouth forms into an “o” shape. A hundred dollars on a three-dollar coffee? What sense does that even make? This had to be a mistake.

“Hey Kiara, are you okay?” Trina, who’s waiting tables today, asks. She has her brown apron tied over her baby bump with a few crumpled receipts and pens tucked in the pockets.

“I just got tipped a hundred dollars,” Kiara says, still shocked.

“You go, girl!” Trina enthusiastically shouts. “Who was it? A regular?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve never seen him before. Brown curly hair, dressed in a nice black suit-”

“Oh, that’s Harry,” Trina smiles. “Everyone loves Harry. He is a cutie. Been getting coffee here for a long time. He owns the strip club down the street.”

“I’m sorry. The dude owns a what?”

“A strip club bar type thing,” Trina shrugs. “Very fancy. It’s pretty much only for the elite. He is super nice. Everyone loves him here! He bought me a crib and this fancy high-tech stroller when he found out I was pregnant.”

“Yeah, well, he is kinda a dick if you ask me,” Kiara mutters under her breath.

“He tipped you a hundred dollars, and you’re calling him a dick?” Trina curiously questions.

“He called me pretty! And he had this arrogant ambiance to his voice. And what is with all the rings? It’s tacky.”

Trina places her hands on her hips.“Oh, just say you find the man hot! It’s okay to admit you find Manhattan’s most eligible and rich bachelor hot. I don’t blame you. I would get on it if I wasn’t thirty and pregnant.”

“I’m not admitting anything. Besides, I don’t have time for men. Men just cause problems.”

“Oh, you're telling me?” Trina points to her bulging belly. Kiara snorts at her friend and starts to walk away to grab more coffee beans from the storage, and Trina follows closely behind her. “You need to have some fun! Loosen up. Get your head out of that textbook. You have been living next to me for three months, and I haven’t seen you invite not one boy over! I know that vibrator you use is tired.”

Kiara grabs the box of coffee beans and turns back around to face Trina. “My vibrator is doing me just fine.”

Kiara’s whole life has been centered around academics. She was a really smart kid growing up. She had a good start to life too. However, Kiara’s wholesome childhood took a turn at twelve when her Dad died in a car accident. The accident was horrific for her entire family, but it hit her mom the worst. Her mom went from being a well respected physician's assistant, to being a drug addict, and Kiara had to grow up at the tender age of twelve just to take care of her mother. Around the age of fourteen Kiara’s mom got shipped off to rehab, and she ended up weaving in and out of foster homes until she was eighteen. Kiara realized that she never wants that to happen to her future family. She has been working hard on her academics because she hopes to have a stable income, so she can give her future kid the life that she never had.

It’s not like Kiara didn’t want to go and mingle around. Meet a new guy, have a one-nightstand, maybe even possibly fall in love. However, the dating scene as a brown skin woman in a whitewashed part of the city isn’t as easy as it sounds. Kiara doesn’t teeter the line of looking ethnically ambiguous. She is clearly a Black girl. Caramel skin, tight curls, full lips, and wide hips. Kiara likes these traits that she carries. In fact, she loves them, but men don’t. Specifically, men that aren’t her race. Not to mention that Black men are hard to come by in this particular part of city.

The simple fact is most white men don’t like Black women.

It’s even arguable that Black men don't even like Black women.

And Kiara is okay with that. She doesn’t need to be approved by a bunch of white people, nonetheless ones with penises. She just wishes she had more options to date within her race, or at least find someone who genuinely liked her.

Maybe that’s the reason why Kiara doesn’t want to go out and find a man to have some fun with. She knows he’s going to be white, and she will have to endure hundreds of questions about her race and her hair or meet racist parents, and she has done that all before.

So, for now, instead of explaining this to Trina, her very white friend, she will just blow off her questions about why she isn’t sleeping around or why she doesn’t entertain the idea of going to bars to find cute boys.

+++

The next day Kiara is off work. She spends her day sitting in her bed, in red pajama shorts and her university sweater, studying for her midterm. She got through quite a bit but is still a little worried about not getting an A. About an hour into her studying, she hears bickering from Trina’s apartment.

“I don’t know what you are being so shy about. Just ask her! You are great with girls.”

“No, I’m great at fucking girls. Trying to establish a genuine connection, I haven’t done that in a while.”

“I believe in you! Now go!”

Knock

Knock

It’s another guy that Trina has been trying to set Kiara up with. Trina does this about every other month. Very rarely does Kiara entertain the idea and sleeps with them, because she is bored, but it usually doesn’t go further than that.

Kiara opens the door to her apartment and there stands Harry. He is holding a boutique of red roses in one hand, and his other is behind his back. The suit he is wearing today is slightly different. Same silhouette, but this time the suit is brown. Kiara finally gets a good look at this man, and fuck.

Green eyes, full bright pink lips. Wide shoulders and defined biceps that show he does work out but isn’t a gym rat.

Gucci loafers. Now, this is an interesting man.

“What are you doing here?”

Harry nervously gestures to the flowers in his hand. “I brought you this.”

“You just came here to bring me flowers?”

“I also brought you this,” Harry pulls his hand from behind his back and shows a bottle of wine he got when he went on a business trip in Napa. He was saving the wine for a special occasion, like the next time he would go visit his mom, but this is more than a special occasion in Harry’s eyes. He is trying to swoon this girl.

Kiara smiles at him and grabs the wine bottle. If it’s one thing Kiara has learned in her adult life is that she loves wine. She usually only gets the cheap stuff from the liquor store down the street, but Kiara has never seen this bottle before.

She walked to her kitchen, leaving Harry staring at her dumbfoundedly. She pulled out two wine glasses from her kitchen cabinet.

Normally Kiara wouldn’t entertain this. Especially since she has a test to study for. However, she can’t lie and say she hasn’t been worked up...sexually.

“Alright, you brought me wine. You are welcomed in.”

Harry follows her inside the apartment, feeling a bit awkward. Usually, Harry never found himself at a girl’s place. He always took his one-night stands back to his house and had his assistant, Trevor escort them out in the morning.

Harry was nervous because this wasn’t a one-night stand. This was him bringing wine and flowers to a girls’ apartment, which he barely knows.

Just like Kiara, Harry also hasn’t been in the dating scene in a while. He has been busy with work, and it’s not easy what he does.

“So why did you come all this way to bring me wine?” Kiara asks Harry, pouring some wine into a glass and handing it to him. “I know you don’t live in this part of the city.”

“I don’t.” Harry sits on the barstool by the kitchen countertop. “I told you I thought you were pretty. Nice place, by the way.”

Kiara looks for the sarcasm on Harry’s face when he compliments her one-bedroom apartment but doesn’t find any. Kiara’s apartment isn’t ugly. But it probably is nothing compared to what Harry lives in.

Kiara takes a gulp of her wine. “It’s kinda trash actually. This is the ghetto.”

“You go to Columbia?” Harry asked, noticing her university sweater.

Kiara takes one more gulp of her wine, finishing off what is left in her glass. She was going to answer Harry’s question. She really was. But she got a good look at his bone structure. The way his jaw is a perfectly angled line. The way his Adam apple moves when he takes a sip of his wine. Even the way his fingers glide against the glass.

She begins to wonder how his fingers would feel against her.

“Kiara?”

That was it for Kiara because she doesn’t think she can keep herself composed in front of this beautiful rich man.

Instead of pouring her wine, Kiara grabs the bottle and starts to chug the wine like she is a trucker drinking a Samuel Adams.

Her lips remove from the bottle with a pop sound. Harry is now staring at Kiara completely taken aback by her actions. “What are you really here for, Harry? Sex? Because we can cut the small talk part.”

“Maybe I actually like you, Kiara.”

“You don’t like me.”

“Who told you that,” Harry counters.

Harry watches closely as Kiara struts towards him.

“I thought you were into blonde models?”

“Where are you finding this information from?” he questions.

“Google.”

Harry smirks. “So you’re googling me?”

“You know, if you wanted to know more about me, you could have just asked.”

Kiara cut him off with her lips attached to his. She wanted him to shut up, but she also wanted to kiss him.

Killing two birds with one stone.

Harry’s lips move in sync with hers, and he places his ringed hands on her back, pulling her closer to him.

If Kiara is being honest with herself, Harry’s lips feel like magic. It’s been a while since Kiara has kissed a guy, and she feels butterflies in the pit of her stomach.

“Kiara, what are we doing?” Harry mumbles into her mouth.

“We are gonna go back to my bedroom, and you are going to fuck me. Hard.”

“A-are are you sure about that?” Harry stutters on his words.

“We both know you didn’t come here to take me out on some date. So let’s just do this.”

Harry should have confidently responded and said, “No, Kiara, that is not why I’m here. I’m here because I actually find you attractive, and I know you have been working at the shop for about two weeks now but I have been very nervous to ask you on a date.”

However, his mouth went dry because Kiara threw off her sweater and her perky boobs sat fully on her chest.

“Kiara-”

“You know,” Kiara rests the palm of her hands on his muscular chest. Kiara has the upper hand and she sees it in the way Harry was staring at her, gaping at her actions. She loves being this bold. Upper chest bare for a man who is practically drooling over her boobs. Kiara likes to be in charge, but only for a little bit. After a while she wants to be taken care of. In bed that is. “For a man of such little words, you are talking so much right now.”

Harry grabs both of her wrist, but keeps her hands placed upon his chest. He knows his heart is racing a mile per minute. Kiara feels it and for a second she thinks to herself that there is no way she is causing this man's heart to skip beats.

Kiara stands up on her tippy toes and lets her tongue dart out to touch right below Harry’s ear suckling on the spot until it turns a nice red shade. She detaches her lips with a pop.

“You want this,” Harry whispers.

“I need this,” Kiara responds back.

“Tell me what you need Kiara.”

Harry’s right hand brushes over her bare breast, causing her to buckle a bit and stumble onto Harry’s chest.

“Hold yourself up, love, and tell me what you need.”

“I need you to fuck me,” Kiara whines.

With that, Harry holds Kiara's hips and roughly turns her away from him. Her hands went out and to grab at the granite countertop, holding herself up as much as she possibly could.

“How do you want it, hmm?” Harry whispers, quickly shrugging off his blazer and undoing a few buttons from his shirt. He begins to place wet kisses along the back of her shoulder. “I can fuck you right here, bent over the counter top. Or I can take you to the bed.”

“Here,” Kiara choked out through a moan.

“Can you handle it?” Harry teasingly asked her.

“I can handle it.”

“Can I take off your shorts?” Harry asks in a more serious tone.

“Mhmm, yes please.”

Harry shimmies down Kiara’s shorts. He takes the time to run his hands over her ass. The contact of her hot skin and Harry’s ice cold rings feels good to Kiara. She wants him to spank her, but she isn’t exactly sure what Harry is into and now she wishes she was sober enough to vocalize what she likes in bed so her needs can be met.

“Let's get a good orgasam out of you. Can I eat you?”

“Yes. God Harry, you're teasing me.”

“Not teasing,” he reassures her. “Just wanna know what you like.”

Harry gets down on his knees and opts for pushing her gray panties to the side instead of taking them off. Her core is glistening in her arousal and the smell alone makes Harry’s dick twitch in his boxers.

“Stop staring at it and-” Kiara cuts her sentence off with a yelp because Harry has attached his plump lips to her clit, giving her small kitten licks.

Kiara doesn’t really prefer to be eaten out. Most men's mouths don’t really do it for her. However, Harry is doing a very good job at keeping her legs shaking. She wants to turn around and look at him, but everytime she tries he delves deeper and deeper in her core, until she can barely hold herself up.

“M’mmm. A little higher please?”

Harry smirks against Kiara’s core because the little please she added to the end of her request tells him that she is slowly letting go of the tough exterior she puts up.

“Here? Is this good?”

“Yeah. Fuck right there please.” Kiara grips at the counter harder until her fingertips turned white.

“Been eating your veggies, huh?” Harry talks against Kiara’s core, the vibrations making her shudder. “You taste good love.”

Kiara is unable to respond because Harry is really going at it. His hands tightly grip Kiara's hips. His face is completely buried in her cunt, and he feels a slight ache in his jaw from the motions he makes with his mouth.

He continues to lick over her swollen folds, and then wraps his lips around her clit, which makes Kiara arch her back and push onto him. She is a panting mess, mouth wide open, eyes pinched together. She begins to thrash around but Harry grips even tighter at her hips.

“Stay still love.”

“I can’t,” she whined. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Why don’t you ask to cum?”

Kiara chokes on her spit slightly when Harry pulls his mouth from her pussy, and dips a finger inside of her. “Am I not entitled to an orgasm?”

“You are if you wanna be good for me.”

“Well if you're looking for a good girl I think you have come to the wrong place-”

Harry adds a second finger to her, which shuts Kiara up. “Ask nicely and you can cum.”

“I didn’t know you were gonna be so-”

“So what?” Harry asks her.

“Dominant.”

“You're lucky I’m not spanking you.”

“What's holding you back?” Kiara challenged.

Harry gets up from off his knees, and his free hand reigns down a heavy smack on her ass.

“Ask me nicely,” Harry demands, slowly pumping his fingers in and out of her.

“No.”

Smack.

“Ask nicely Kiara. I can do this all night.”

Kiara snaps her head back to look at Harry. “No.”

Smack.

Smack.

Smack.

The three spanks that Harry had given to Kiara were much harder than the first. So hard that Harry started to see an outline of his hand print.  

It's when Harry gives her one more smack and pushes his fingers deeper into her, hitting a sensitive spot that Kiara gives in.

“Fuck, Harry please just let me come,” Kiara struggles to say with a couple tears falling from her eyes from being so wrapped up in pleasure.

“Say sorry.”

“I’m sorry. So damn sorry. Please, I'm so close.”

Harry laughed at how her personality has done a complete one eighty. She went from being a complete brat to now begging him for an orgasm. “You are?”

“Yes please.”

Once Harry feels her pussy tighten around his fingers he pulls them from inside of her. “I don’t think you are that sorry.”

Kiara let out a whimper at the loss of connection. Her legs are still shaking and she almost slipped off the counter but Harry was quick to catch her.

Harry's strong arms snaked around to the front of Kiara’s stomach, letting her stumble back into her arms. She felt Harry’s hard cock press up against her raw ass.“Easy now.”

Usually, Kiara would give Harry some witty comments, but right now she is too worked up from being so close to her orgamsm. She feels a bit fuzzy, not sure what to do next. Her core aches and all she can think about is getting off.

Her hands go down to rub at her clit, but Harry quickly smacks it away.

“That's my job tonight alright? You gonna let me fuck you? You're gonna be good so I can get you off properly.”

Kiara nods her head.

“Verbal consent Kiara.”

“Yes please.”

“Good girl.”

Harry’s smug voice echoes in her ear as he places wet open mouth kisses along her neck. Harry is really enjoying himself. She felt him smile against his neck when he started to coax soft moans out of her.

Kiara weakly pushes Harry's head away from her neck.

“Doll, are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“No, I'm good. Can we just take this to my bedroom?” Kiara politely asks. “I think I will be more comfortable there.”

When Harry gets a good look at Kiara, he can tell he has pushed past the first layer of her tough exterior. He knows there is probably much more fight and sass in her, but right now she looks vulnerable.

“Yes of course we can,” Harry held his hand out and Kiara willingly took it as he led both of them to the bedroom.

When they arrive, Kiara sits at the edge of her queen sized bed, and Harry lets go of her hand. She whines a little at the feeling of Harry’s hands slipping away from her.

Harry chuckles at the girl. “Let me just take my shirt off darling.”

Kiara watches closely as Harry’s fingers undo the buttons one by one. His silk shirt gilded easily off his toned shoulders. He made his way to sit at the top of Kiara’s bed leaning against the headboard, and Kiara crawled on her hands and knees toward him.

“Christ,” Harry mumbled under his breath.

Harry spreads his legs wider, which allows Kiara to sit comfortably in his lap. She let her hands roam up and down his tattoos starting with the birds on his collar bone. She then notices the butterfly right above his tummy. When she places her left hand on it, tracing the wings, Harry sighs contently at her touch. It’s a comforting touch, one that he has never experienced with his one-night stands.

Harry breaks a sweat on his forehead when Kiara continues to trace his tattoos. His broad chest stops moving up and down because he begins to hold his breath. He isn’t really sure what she is doing, but it feels good. Good enough for Harry to exhale and relax into the bed.

For Harry, sex with girls usually got directly to the point. Of course, there was foreplay, but not to any extent like this.

Having someone else’s hands on your body is a part of sex. However, this feels much more intimate than that. He’s got that feeling of butterflies in his stomach when Kiara begins to run her hands all over his body. It felt like he was in high school again, having sex for the first time and being so nervous because you don’t know what to do. But in this case, the nerves and butterflies don’t come from a lack of knowledge of the female anatomy. It comes from being completely enamored by the beauty this one girl holds.

And for just a second, Harry questions if he deserves this to feel the way he feels right now. Warm and a little drunk on the feeling of love. He doesn’t love Kiara, at least not yet anyway. But he feels like at this moment, Kiara cares for him. And even if she doesn’t care for him, he wouldn’t mind existing in this false reality he has created in his head for a really long time.

Something about having his body touched in such a vulnerable way is making him feel things he has never felt in his life.

“You have a lot of tattoos,” Kiara points out, fingers still tracing his butterfly tattoo.

“Yeah, I have been collecting them over the years.”

“Which one was your first one?” Kiara asks curiously.

Harry brought Kiara’s delicate hands up to the swallows on his chest.

“These ones,” Harry’s voice shakily said. Kiara takes her index finger and begins to trace the birds.

“How old were you?” Kiara asks, keeping her eyes looking at the birds.

“Sixteen,” is all Harry says, trying to keep his past where it belongs. In the past.

“That’s young. You don’t regret any of them?”

“No, actually. I think they all tell a story. Sure, some of them are stupid, but they all got some meaning behind them.

Kiara innocently brings her hand up to his cheek, cradling his face. “You gotta tell me about them one day. You have so many.”

“Mhmm,” Harry hummed in response.

“Let’s kiss some more,” Kiara suggested, wiggling her hips in Harry’s lap to find a comfortable position.

Harry nodded his head in response letting his lips touch Kiara’s, but not yet giving in to her request. His hands find their way to her lower back, and Kiara’s hands now have made their way up to his shoulders.

“You look good. You know that?” Harry says against her lips.

Kiara now has a grin on her face and blushes at Harry as if she has never received a compliment in her life.

Kiara brushes a brown curl off of Harry’s face with her index finger, “You can’t give me compliments while I’m buzzed off of wine because you might make me fall in love with you.”

Harry smiles. “Why don’t I just fuck you like I love you?”

Harry realizes what he said and awkwardly takes his hands off of Kiara’s body, nervously running his hands through his hair.

Kiara see’s the worried look on Harry’s face, but she is just a tad bit too intoxicated to process the weight of Harry’s words.

“Or you could let me fuck you,” Kiara bodly suggests. “I just haven’t done it in a while, so you might need to take over when my legs get sore.”

Harry nods, his forehead pushed upon Kiara’s. He kisses her again, and is taken by surprise when she lightly bites on his lip. She then gives a quick kiss to the corner of the month, and then his throat. She leans over to kiss his collar bones, and Harry takes the opportunity to grab a handful of her ass.

He then slowly peels her underwear off of her. He drags it slowly past her thighs looking down at her soaking wet core.

“You’re wet,” Harry mummers into her ear.

Kiara cups Harry’s dick through his boxers, and slides them off of his hips.

Harry groans in pleasure when he feels her hand touch his hard dick that is leaking pre cum.

“Don’t get too cocky now,” her hand lazily pumps at Harry's length, which she finds to be quite impressive in size.

“Kiara, don’t forget who is in charge here,” Harry grits through his teeth.

Kiara dips her head down to lick at Harry's heavy balls, she then continues her way up to his shaft until she makes her way to his tip and suctions her lips around the pink swollen flesh.

Harry looks down at the Kiara, who is giving him those innocent eyes, as if she doesn’t have his entire dick in her mouth

“Oh fuck me,” Harrys rolls his eyes, and lets his head fall onto the headboard.

“I will. But let me suck you off first.”

Kiara passes her thumb over his dick, and kisses all around the tip. She licks him up and down before taking him into her mouth entirely, making sure to make eye contact with him.

Harry places his hand gently over Kiara’s head, asking permission to touch her. She blinks at him signaling to him that it's okay.

He took a rough grip to Kiara’s brown curls, moving her head up and down in a steady rhythm.

“That's it,” he encourages as Kiara suckles on his tip. “Fucking hell.”

She pulls her mouth from Harry's length and gives him a few sharp tugs.

“Slow down,” Harry pants. “Want to be inside of you when I come. Can you handle it?”

Kiara swings one leg around Harry’s lap, her core just inches away from Harry’s throbbing dick.

“Yeah I can.”

“Well what are you waiting for?”

Kiara slowly slides down on Harry’s dick, and his hands cling to the sides of hips, coaxing her on her way down. Harry groans at how tight and snug she feels around him.

Kiara is about halfway down when the blissful feeling starts to hit her. She tightens her grip on Harry’s shoulders biting her bottom lip.

“What's wrong? Thought you said you could handle it.”

Bravely, in one push Kiara glides right down Harry’s dick.

Harry groans with pleasure as soon as she makes it all the way down. His hands go out to grip her ass, and help her bounce up and down.

“That's it. Good girl. You like it when I call you that?”

“Yes,” Kiara responds, picking up her speed so that her tits move up and down with her.

“What do you want me to call you? I can call you my good girl, a slut, or whore. Which one do you prefer?”

“A whore,” Kiara is slightly embarrassed at what this man is doing to her, but she is so wrapped up in the lust of the moment that she really couldn’t care less.

“You're my dirty little whore, hmmm?”

Harry cranes his neck down to place a kiss on her tongue, lapping his tongue over her soft skin that smells like a floral scented perfume. He moans softly into her neck and squeezes at her fleshy hips.

“Yes.”

“Say it.”

“I’m your dirty little whore,” Out of nowhere Harry thrust his hips up to meet hers. “Fuck, Harry!”

Harry placed a wet kiss behind her hair before speaking, “How about you get on your hands and knees for me. I can fuck you like that.”

“Okay,” Kiara withdraws herself from him with ease due to how wet she was. She props herself on her hands and knees and arches her back for Harry.

Harry places a hand on her lower back. He rubs the tip of his dick over her wet folds before pushing in.

Harry moves slowly at first, testing out the waters to make sure he isn’t hurting her. Her sweet moans are only egging Harry on, and he is sure he isn’t gonna last another five minutes inside of her.

“Please Harry. Fuck me faster please.”

Harry hands grips on Kiara's fleshy love handles. It is a little tight for her liking however the pain is quickly drowned out by the intense pleasure she begins to feel.

This is a dirty shag. Harry is pounding into her at such an extreme pace that Kiara can’t even get a full moan out. Her little “uhhhh’s” and “nggggs” only encourage Harry on.

Kiara’s orgasm hits her first and it's just as blissful as she thought it would be. Legs trembling, her arms are no longer propping herself up, instead her right cheek is pushed up on the bed, and a bit of salvia is foaming out of her mouth.

“I’m gonna, oh god Kiara. Just give me a sec- fuck!”

Harry’s orgasm shortly follows and it's just as euphoric for him as it was for Kiara. This was one of the most satisfying sexual encounters Harry has had in a while and he wants to enjoy every second of being buried in Kiara’s warmth.

Harry was about to pull out from her but when he looked down at where they were connecting he realized how fucked he was.

Not only did he not wear a condom, but he most definitely came inside of her.

“Fuck,” Harry mumbles under his breath.

How could he be so careless? This has never happened to him. Harry has had quite the extent of sexual partners and he makes sure to always use a condom.

He wants to blame it on the wine but he didn’t even finish his glass.

“I need a second,” Kiara tiredly whispers, panting.

“I didn’t use a condom.”

“I’m sorry?” Kiara says still coming down from her high.

Harry runs his hand through his tangled hair nervously, “I didn’t use a condom. I haven’t had sex in almost a year though. I get tested regularly too. I’m sorry it just slipped my mind. I can run out and get you some plan B.”

“It's okay,” Kiara responds. She turns her head around to look at Harry. “Do you mind pulling out now though?”

Harry looks down at his dick, and then looks up at Kiara. “Oh yeah shit uhh.” He grabs on to Kiara’s hips and slowly pulls out of her.

“I haven’t had sex in like six months by the way,” Kiara slowly turns herself around to face Harry who has now tucked himself back in his boxers. “It could be longer honestly… it's been pretty dry here until now.”

“Yeah, same. Busy with work and what not.”

There is a moment of uncomfortable silence. Kiara has the sheets up to her bare breast, and Harry is not only taking in the raw beauty of the girl in front of him, and still beyond shocked he forgot to put on a damn condom.

“Well, I can get you some plan B. I think there is like a Target down the block from your apartment.”

“No, it's fine!” Kiara responds way too quickly. “I mean like, Trina has a stash in her car. I can steal from her in the morning. You don't have to rush out if you don’t want to. It’s not safe to drive at night, and you probably have such a long way to go.”

“You want me to stay?”

“Is that a bad thing?”

Harry shakes his head. “No...errr it's not. I would really like to stay.”

“Okay well I’m gonna pee. And clean myself up. I can bring you some water?”

“Water would be great.”

Kiara nods at him, standing up so that her white sheet is wrapped tightly around her body. She knows that there is no reason to hide from Harry. He just took her from behind and called her a whore, but Harry isn’t just any man. He is a man who looks like a greek god, and fucks like one too. So Kiara couldn’t help but be a little self conscious.

Kiara quickly comes back with two glasses of water. She has even changed into an old ratty T-shirt and a fresh pair of underwear.

Kiara hands Harry a glass and he takes a sip, “You know,” she starts, crawling into bed next to him. “If you told me you fuck like that maybe I wouldn’t have put up a fight at the cafe.”

Harry blushes, setting the glass on the nightstand next to him. “Didn’t plan this, you know. Not that I mind. Trust me, I like this.”

“I would be lying if I didn’t say I thought you were cute.”

“Oh,” Harry playfulls wiggles his eyebrows, scooting himself closer to Kiara on the bed. “Please do tell me more.”

Kiara pouts at Harry until he places a kiss on her bottom lip, another sloppy wet one on her cheek. He grabs at her sides, tickling her.

“Har- Harry! Stop, please!” Kiara begins to laugh uncontrollably. She even attempts to pull Harry’s enormous hands from her body but has no luck.

“Okay, okay,” she gives up, Harry pulling his hands off of her. “It was the whole curly hair, suit thing. I love a man in a suit, and you know you got an Americano. You have good taste in coffee.”

Harry smiles. “You make good coffee.”

Kiara hums awkwardly, not making eye contact with Harry, instead opting to stare at his mermaid tattoo with abnormally large tits.

“I like your hair too,” Harry speaks up. “It frames your face nicely. It was the first thing I noticed about you.” Harry’s ringed hands make their way to the top of Kiara’s thigh, rubbing her soft skin. “Then it was all the pins you had on your apron. You have a lot.”

“Oh. Yeah I’ve been collecting them over the years.”

“You had one that said, ‘Don’t be a damn.’ What does that mean?”

“I’m not sure,” Kiara shrugs, breathing out a relaxed sigh. “It was like my third year of undergrad. I studied abroad at the University Of Edinburgh, in Scotland and this guy who had a jewelry shop said it to me. The next day I came back he just gave me the pin and told me to always keep it with me.”

Harry smiles at Kiara with adornment, “I have family in Scotland. I’m from London though. Grew up there with my mum most of my life.”

“What brought you to New York then?”

“School then work. I went to Columbia,” Harry says, giving her the shortest answer possible. “I noticed you had it on your sweater earlier…. You know before you tore it off.”

“Shut up!” Kiara groans, striking Harry’s chest. “But yes I do go to Colombia. Just for my teaching credentials. I want to teach history.”

There is a beast of silence. “Are you sure if I stay the night? I don't want to intrude-”

“I want you to stay the night.”

Harry’s heart warms because no girl has ever said that to him. The feeling of butterflies swarming around in his tummy has come back, and he knows his cheeks are heating up in embarrassment.

“Alright.” Harry pulls Kiara’s body closer to him which makes her squeal in surprise. “Only if you keep me warm for the night.

+++

Harry is awake before Kiara.

Harry is used to waking up early for his job, and usually, he would be on his way to get his morning coffee and then head on down to the club.

However, he just can't leave the girl he just fucked last night.

Her breaths are short, and he can feel her heart thumping against his chest. She was properly attached to him, and Harry really liked it. Having her this close to him.

He takes the time while Kiara was asleep to not only watch her sleep peacefully but look at all the artwork she has displayed on her walls. There are no family pictures that Harry can spot, just a picture of her and Trina on her desk. It looks like they are at some club. Trina has a drink in her hand that looks like she is about to spill and Kiara is downing a shot.

Kiara stirs a bit in her sleep and Harry watches as she slowly blinks her eyes open.

“You're warm.” She blinks. “Do you want breakfast?” Kiara offers, nuzzling herself in the crook of Harry’s neck. “I make a really good omelet.”

Harry laughs. “Kiara I really can’t keep up with you.”

Kiara begins to innocently pepper kisses all over Harry’s neck. “What do you mean?” she pouts.

Harry groans once Kiara sucks on a sensitive right beneath his jawline. “For starters, you didn’t like me at all when we first met. Then we fucked because you claimed I was here just for sex. And now you are offering to make me an omelet.”

“What are you here for then?” Kiara presses.

Harry sighs, looking down at the pretty girl all tangled up in his arms. Harry knows exactly what he wants. He is twenty-seven and he is really looking for love. A life-long partner who he can come home to after a hard day at work. A partner who makes getting up in the morning all worth it. Someone who he can take out on dates, maybe even take to meet his brother.

He wants to take a leap of faith with Kiara. He wants to ask her on a date, however, he can’t bring himself to do that. He doesn’t want to put this girl in harm’s way because he likes her.

And it's not even about Kiara getting hurt. He would never let anything physically happen to the people he cares about in his life. It’s honestly about the hurt she would experience if something happened to him.

“I-”

Harry is interrupted by Trina barging into the bedroom.

“We will be late for the train if you don't get your ass up! You always sleep in--” Trina pauses once she realizes her best friend is wrapped up in her other best friend’s arms. “Oh fuck.” Trina points back to the door. “I’ll wait outside for you.”

“Shit,” Kiara grumbles to herself. “I forgot I had work.”

Harry watches as Kiara frantically pulls her underwear up her body. When she realizes Harry is staring at her, she turns around to slide on her black lace bra.

Harry isn’t trying to be that much of a dick, staring at Kiara while she is getting changed. It's just that her ass is littered with marks from his heavy handy, and a light bruise on her loved handles from holding her securely on his lap, while he pounded into her.

The bruises were tainted with the memory of last night, and Harry notices how every little mark told the story of their rough and passionate sex. Looking back on it Harry doesn’t know if he was too rough with the young girl. He doesn’t like that it was possible that he may have hurt her.

“You need to go,” Kiara demands, pulling her jeans on, and then her white shirt.

Harry picked up his white button-up shirt off the floor and threw it over his shoulder. “Kiara, was I too rough? Maybe you should put something on the bruises--”

“I’m going to be late for work Harry,” she snaps.

“Are you mad?”

Tears well up in Kiara’s eyes and this is very unusual for her. She never cries. She is not even sure why she is crying. She pauses for a moment not answering his questions.

“I’m fine,” Kiara answers with her back still facing away from Harry.

“You’re crying, Kiara.”

“I’m not!” Kiara yelled, throwing her hands up in the air turning around. “I- I’m just a little overwhelmed.” Kiara’s breath gets caught in the back of her throat. “I have school, and I work full time, and I’m interning at this elementary school...and that…” Kiara points to the bed. “That was the best sex I have ever had, and now I look like a complete freak.” She wipes a tear with the back of her hand. “I look like a complete freak because all we did was have sex and now I’m crying. It doesn’t have much to do with you I think. I’m just a little stressed.”

That was a complete lie and Kiara knows it. At this moment, she could care less about school or the stress of work. Its that empty feeling you have after sex knowing that this isn’t a forever thing. Harry will go back to being Harry, and she will go back to being Kiara. It is simply just sex...nothing more.

Harry gets off the bed in just his unbuttoned shirt and boxers. He tests the waters by placing a comforting hand on her back. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Just show yourself out please.” Kiara walks away from Harry’s hold, grabbing a scrunchie off her desk, and her purse. “I have to go.”

Harry doesn’t stop her. He knows that if he stops her he is gonna want to kiss her. Then he is gonna convince her to come back to bed with him, and he can’t do that. For her sake.

+++

“Are we not gonna talk about it?” Trina asks while she is driving her SUV.

Trina and Kiara usually take the subway together. It works out much cheaper for the both of them, but they can’t be late for work. Not during the Monday rush. Kiara is in the passenger seat pulling up her hair and frantically covering up a few hickies on her neck from last night. Trina is driving just a little bit above the speed limit, trying to make sure they both get there on time, and also worrying about her best friend who isn’t her usual bubbly self.

“There is nothing to talk about, other than I need some plan B,” Kiara replies dryly.

“You're joking.”

“Nope. Pass me your purse.”

Trina keeps one hand on the wheel and hands Kiara her purple purse from the back seat.

“Kiara you had sex with my best friend. Unprotected sex.”

“Exactly just sex,” Kiara shruged, digging up the pill from the bottom of Trina’s bag. “And I’m your best friend!”

“You are both my best friends!” Trina argued. “You know the poor boy actually likes you right?”

Kiara rolls her eyes. “Did he tell you that?”

“Yes! Actually, he did! More than once!”

“He is lying. I’m just a normal broke student. And him? He is a fucking rich man but he looks like a literal greek god! Trina you know I googled him. His past girlfriends are models! White, skinny blonde models. I’m not white, skinny, or blonde!”

“He was a party boy in the past!” Trina retorts. “He likes you, okay? He just has trouble communicating his feelings. I know you like him too. You just have this strange idea in your head that you are not good enough for him! Which is ridiculous.”

“It's whatever,” Kiara huffs, pooping the pill in her mouth and swallowing it, “It was a hook-up. A simple one night stand.”

“It’s okay to want something more Kiara.”

“He doesn’t want something more! It's so painfully obvious,” Kiara throws her hands up in the air.

Trina knows how stubborn her best friend is. It's why they get along so well. They both have this hot headed temperament. However, Kiara never really likes to give herself time to relax. She likes to be busy but it is clearly taking a toll on her mental health.

“Let me take you out drinking after work.”

Kiara turned her head towards her friend and smiled. “Thank you. Now we are speaking my language.”

+++

While Kiara’s working, a part of her secretly wishes that Harry would show up for his americano. She is trying her hardest to convince herself that he is not worth her energy or time, but the sex is still fresh in her mind and it doesn’t help that her body is showing evidence of what took place last night.

There is still that dull satisfying ache between her legs, the sound of Harry calling her a dirty whore plays on rewind all day. She is practically daydreaming about having sex with Harry again while making coffee.

Harry was the first man to meet her needs in that manner. Sure she has cum during sex a couple times, but it wasn’t anything mindblowing. In fact her orgasms were usually underwhelming, but with Harry he knew what he was doing. His dominance was a complete turn on.

And sure Kiara could be fuck buddies with Harry. But she thinks she deserves a little more than just casual hookups. She wants a relationship because at the end of the day, she wants to build a family. A family that makes up for her broken one.

Kiara has sat down and contemplated this before. Is it inherently selfish to want to fix her childhood trauma with a family of her own, but fuck. Can you really blame her?

+++

When Kiara gets home she quickly changes into a simple black dress. It hugs her curves nicely and it's the dress she usually pulls out when she used to go clubbing with Trina (which has come to a halt because of her pregnancy).

The subway ride to the club is filled with laughter and Trina having to help Kiara actually get on and off the train (because she pregamed at the apartment).

Once they got to the club, Trina walks up to the front of the line with Kiara.

The bouncer's eyes lit up as soon as he saw Trina, “Hi Trina. Umm, should I tell Harry you are here? James is also here too. I can let him know as well.”

“Harry is here?” Kiara questions.

Trina whispers in her ear, “Yes, this is his club.”

“I’m gonna need more drinks if I have to look at his stupid face again.”

Trina playfully rolls her eyes, “Yes, you can let James and Harry know we are both here.”

The bouncer pulls out his walkie talkie and opens the door for Trina and Kiara.

Kiara supports herself on Trina’s arm as they walk into the club, “You didn’t tell me we were going to Harry’s club?”

“I know, I thought you might put up a fight about it.”

She probably would have put up a fight about it, however she wouldn’t actually mind seeing Harry's stupid, beautiful looking face again.

The club itself is beautiful. The ceilings are covered with mirrors, and hanging down from them were stunning crystal chandeliers. The chairs are red, and glass tables are placed strategically in each booth. There is also a bar with some red stools, and a huge red door near it.

“What’s back there?” Kiara asks.

“The strip club. But we don't need to go over there. C’mon you wanted some wine, didn’t you?”

Trina and Kiara made their way to the bar and a heavily tattooed girl with a name tag that says Drew is working on the opposite side of the counter mixing drinks.

“Hey, Trina! What are you doing here? You can’t drink.”

“It’s for my friend, Kiara.” Trina gestures to her Kiara, who drunkenly waves back at Drew “She will take some wine, something sweet. I’ll just have some sprite”

Drew grabs a wine glass and puts it on the table before walking away. “Coming right up”

“James is that new guy you are seeing, right?”

“Yes. He works for Harry.”

Kiara has heard Trina mention James on multiple occasions. She even thinks he has come to the cafe a couple of times for lunch, but Kiara can’t put a name to the face. She is unsure if Trina and James are dating, but she is not sure how far she should pry. She does briefly remember Trina telling her that James does not care about Trina being pregnant. In fact Trina told her one day during their thirty minute break at work that James is just happy to be a part of Trina’s family.

“Mhmm. So Harry owns this club?” Kiara asks, taking a sip from her wine that Drew provided for her.

“Yeah. He owns a few more too. I believe it's a family business or something?”

Kiara sighs before downing the rest of her wine. “Just eat the fucking rich already.”

“Kiara? Trina?”

Kiara spins around on her chair, holding up her second glass of wine that Drew had given her and made eye contact with Harry.

He looks breathtaking. Hair neatly combed out of his face, tailored suit, ring decorated fingers that Kiara thought was repulsive, but now she can't stop thinking about how they feel against her heat.

“Trina, it's Wednesday,” Harry sternly told her, pressing two fingers to the bridge of his nose, slowly breathing in and out, trying not to lose his temper at his best friend.

“Are you not happy to see me?” Kiara says, standing up. She almost trips on her heels but Harry grabs her arm.

Kiara places her hand on Harry’s cheek. “I know you have to be happy to see me. You don’t fuck someone like that unless you hate them or love them. And who could hate me?”

“Okay!” Trina chippers up, grabbing her friend and bringing her back to the barstool. “Maybe we should get some water in you, okay?”

Harry is flustered because way too much is happening at once. Harry has told Trina multiple times that Wednesdays are not a good time to show up at the club. He has his meetings on Wednesday, and dangerous people are always floating in and out of the club talking business with Harry. He just wants to keep Trina and Kiara safe.

“Drew put all their drinks on my tab,” he tells the dark-haired bartender. “Trina, did you drive here?”

“No, we took the subway,” Trina answered.

Harry sighed frustratingly. “Okay. I'll take you two home. Just don’t leave here until I come get you.”

“Harry,” Trina starts. “I'm sure we will be fine. It’s not that big of a deal. James is here anyways--”

“Trina please.”

It's the crack in Harry's voice that caused Kiara to stop drinking her wine and look up at him.

Trina shoots Harry a look of sympathy. “Okay fine. We will stay here until you're done.”

Harry exhales the air he was holding in, a nervous habit he is still trying to break. “Okay. I will be done soon.”

“What's got his panties in a twist?” Kiara snorts as Harry walks away.

“I’m not sure actually,” Trina responds. “He is always stressed at work. I’ve been trying to get him to take a break for ages, but pulling that man away from his job is an impossible task.”

“He always seems so tense.”

Trina laughs, “Yeah maybe you can help him with that.”

“Well I see you have been helping his fellow associate...James.” Kiara wiggles her eyebrows at Trina.

Trina dramatically sighs. “Don’t even get me started on him.”

“What? I thought things were going great!”

“They are!” Trina assures Kiara. “But I’m still not sure what he wants. I’m pregnant and thirty. I really don’t want to fool around anymore. I want to settle down. The baby is coming soon and I won't have time for hookups and flings. He says he doesn’t mind that I’m pregnant, but he hasn’t said he wants a relationship with me.”

“Why don’t you just be upfront with him and ask?”

“Because I don’t want to scare him off!”

“You deserve someone who is upfront with their feelings, Trina. You are never gonna know until you ask.”

Trina sticks her index finger in Kiara’s face. “I’m not doing shit until you figure out what's going on with you and Harry.”

“Fine I’ll admit. The dick is good.”

Trina squealed. “I knew it, you filthy whore!”

“I'm just a little nervous. What if he is just hooking up with me for some weird black girl fetish? What if he is a racist?”

“I can tell you that's not Harry.”

“Am I ready for this?”

Trina takes a sip of her sprite. “I dunno. You know the answer to that question, not me.”

“Well I don’t know, and you don’t know. So that's my cue to keep drinking.”

Trina rolls her eyes and is about to tell Drew that this will be Kiara’s last glass of red wine until she makes eye contact with a man walking towards them.

“Fuck,” Trina grabs her purse then grabbed Kiara’s wrist. “Don’t talk to him okay? Just don’t look at him and maybe he will go away--”

“Trina... Haven’t seen you in a while.” The man's voice is heavy and dark. When Kiara looked up at him the first thing she noticed is that he is extremely well dressed, with a bling out watch on his wrist. “Who is the lovely lady you brought with you?”

“Leave her alone Dorian.” Trina says.

“What's your name?” The man reaches out to touch Kiara’s lower back but she flinches away.

“Don't touch me! Who do you think you are?”

He raises an eyebrow at her. “Feisty. Pretty too. You are one of Harry’s girls?”

“Excuse me? One of whose girls?”

“Are you not a dancer for the club?” the man asks in a condescending town that sets Kiara off.

“Oh hell no. You know damn well I’m clearly not stripping so what is it that you want from me?”

Trina leans into Kiara’s ear. “Kiara please leave it alone,” She grabs her wrist but Kiara quickly pulls it out of her grasp. “Let's just go.”

“No, let the girl talk Trina. She has quite a mouth on her anyway. Maybe she can put it to a much better use.”

Slap

Kiara’s hand connects with Dorian’s face before Trina could stop her. Trina knows her friend has a temper but so does Dorian. The slap slightly echoes over the music and gains a few people's attention including Drew, who stops mixing her drink and keeps her eyes on Dorian, who clenches his jaw and fixes his suit on his shoulders, trying to regain his composure.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he mutters quietly.

“And what the fuck are you gonna… Ow!” Dorian roughly grabs Kiara wrist and drags her towards him.

He holds her hand above her head. “You don’t know who you are messing with. Do I need to show you?”

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Kiara begins to squirm. “Let go of me before I kick you in the crotch--”

“Hmmmm. Maybe I should teach you a lesson. Don’t think Harry would mind if I borrowed one of his girls.”

“Refer to me as one of Harry’s girls one more time and I will do more than just slap you.”

“Dorian. Let her go.” Kiara’s eyes float from the man holding her wrist to Harry who is stalking up to her with a man right next to him. His voice was deep and assertive. Something Kiara never thought Harry to be other than when he was in bed.

Dorian lets Kiara’s wrist go and she stumbles back a bit towards Trina.

“Harry!” Dorian loudly greets. “I was just telling one of your whores she needs to watch that mouth of hers.”

“She is not a dancer, Dorian.”

“Oh, is she not? Such a shame,” Dorians eyes shamelessly rake Kiara up and down. “With a body like that I’m sure she could attract some clients for you.”

Kiara launches at Dornian but Harry is quick to grab her this time pulling her into his chest.

“Behave. Please,” he whispers in her ear.

“Dorian, you need to go.”

“Harry, you know better than that. Came here for my money. Come here every Wednesday to get my payment.”

“Well, you're not getting it today. Come by tomorrow.”

“Funny you say that since you know the history between me and your father--”

“I don't give a fuck about the history between you and my father!” Harry seethes stepping closer to Dorian. “You don’t see him here do you? I made you a deal. You will get your money, just not tonight. You don’t get to threaten my friends and then just demand money.”

“You don’t want to test me boy--”

“No, you don't want to test me. Not tonight. Leave.”

Dorian smirks at Harry before raising his hands up in defeat. “I’ll be here tomorrow. If you don’t have my money there will be problems.”

Harry watches Dorian walk fully out the door before turning to Trina and Kiara. “Both of you. My car now.”

“What just happened?” Kiara questions.

“Trina just take her to the car.”

+++

The car ride back to Kiara’s apartment is silent. Kiara sits in the back confused as to why Trina and Harry kept whispering to each other. A whole conversation is happening and Kiara’s trying to keep up, but she can only get bits and pieces of what the two are saying.

“I might be still drunk but I can hear you know.” That is a lie.

Harry’s eyes glance up to the rear view mirror. “Are you okay Kiara? He didn’t hurt you right?”

“No but I did hurt him. Slapped him. And if you didn’t come and interrupt I was about to kick him in the balls.” Kiara hiccups at the end of her sentence.

“She is right,” Trina agrees. “She is more of a fighter than she leads on to be.”

“Exactly!” Kiara yells. “So if you would have given me the chance I would have fucked him up.”

Harry, who was clenching his hand at the wheel during the whole drive, lets go and smiles. “I believe you Kiara.”

+++

Harry makes sure to walk Trina into her apartment safely, before helping Kiara to hers which was a challenge in itself because she can’t even walk in a straight line.

“Woah,” Harry says, wrapping his strong arms around Kiara’s waist trying to keep her balance. “How about you sit down on the bed?”

Harry helps Kiara walk into her bedroom and he slowly sits her down on her bed. Her hair is completely ruined, her dress slightly bunched up at her hips and her lips gloss slightly smudged. Harry thinks she looks beautiful. He is staring a little too long before he realizes he should help her take off her heels.

He gets down on one knee and his fingers begin to work on the claps of Kiara’s heels until she wraps her leg around Harry’s neck and pulls him closer to her thigh.

“Wine makes me horny.”

“I know,” Harry pushes himself away from her, no matter how tempting she looks, and goes back to undoing her heels. “But I think it would be smart if I get you to bed.”

“Why was that guy asking you for money?”

“Asking me anything but that.”

“Okay. Did you mean it?”

Harry slides one heel off her foot and looks up at her. “Mean what?”

“When we met.” He grabs Kiara’s other foot. “You said I was pretty. You meant it?”

Harry is silent for a couple seconds, his voice low. “Of course. Why would I be lying about that?”

Kiara shrugs as Harry glides her shoe off. “Guys are assholes. Well most guys are.”

“Mhmm. Where can I find some clothes for you?”

“Top drawer.” Kiara points at her dresser right in front of her bed. Harry walks over to get some clothes and places them on the side of her bed. “When I moved here I hooked up with this one guy from my class. I thought there was something going on between us ya know? He was nice at first. So I was gonna ask him if he wanted to go on a date because well, at that point we were hooking up. Turns out he had a girlfriend.”

“Sounds like a dick. Can I unzip your dress?”

Kiara nods her head and stands up hastily, turning around so her back is facing Harry. “I feel like I’m never good enough to be the girlfriend.” Harry listens closely as he zips Kiara’s dress slowly. Her delicate skin has goosebumps on it. When he gets all the way down to the top of her butt he pushes the dress off her shoulders, and allows her to step out of it.

“I’m good enough to hook up with. But never good enough to meet the parents or keep around longer than a couple weeks.” She turns around to face Harry, and grabs the shirt he picked out for her, throwing it over her head, and ignoring the pair of sweats he brought her, opting to stay in her underwear.

“So do you find me pretty in a fuckable way? Or do you find me pretty enough to keep me around longer than a few weeks?”

“Do you want me to answer that? Because you are really drunk, and my goal isn’t to scare you off.”

“Yes please,” she hiccups. “If you want to fuck around lets just be up front about it. Think I’ve gotten my hopes up about too many guys and I just wanna know.”

“Well I always think it's time for me to settle down,” Harry explains to her. “I’m twenty seven and my mum will not stop bugging me about it.” He laughs but Kiara stays silent. “I guess dating is just a bit confusing for me.”

“Confusing?” Kiara questions, tugging at the bottom of her shirt to make sure it is covering her butt.

“I really didn’t expect to be around this long. I’ve done a lot of stupid stuff Kiara, stuff that I really shouldn’t have done because it put my life at jeopardy. I think I never settled down because I didn’t think I was able to.”

“And what about now? Do you think you can settle down.”

Harry inhales and exhales quickly. “I’m not sure.”

“Okay.” Kiara turns her back to Harry and walks to her bed. She is definitely disappointed in his answer, but she knew she shouldn’t have gotten her hopes up.

“That doesn’t mean I don’t want to keep seeing you Kiara,” Harry quickly responds, breathlessly. “I want to take you to dinner.”

“You don’t have to pity me Harry-”

“I’m not pitying you,” Harry cuts her off. “I like you Kiara. You're a nice girl, beautiful too, and I mean that. My life can be… menacing to say the least. I like you enough not to drag you into my bullshit.”

Kiara tiredly rubs her eyes with the back of her hands. “What exactly is the bullshit?”

“It's my family business and my family… Well, they are interesting people.” That is all Harry could tell her without explicitly saying, “Instead of going into finance with my business degree from Columbia, I had to join my dad’s mafia and fix all his mistakes while he lives in a mansion, even though all I have ever wanted was to have absolutely nothing to do with the “‘family business.’”

“You seem like you don’t want to talk about it.” Kiara is now sitting with her knees up to her chest on her bed and Harry is towering over her small frame.

“No. I’m not a big fan of my past. But I want to get to know you, and you can get to know me. I’m busy with work, and sometimes it's hard for me to open up, but I’d really appreciate it if we took this slow.”

Kiara pouts. “So that means I can’t convince you to stay the night? Even if I suck you off?”

Harry smiles at her. “No.” He places a kiss on her forehead. “But I will come get you tomorrow at seven for dinner. Does that work?”

“Yes it does. Thanks for bringing me home tonight.”

“Anytime. I mean that.”

Kiara flips over to her side, hands resting underneath her head. “Drive safe.”

Harry is unsure about his life. In fact he is unsure about leaping into this with Kiara. He knows they aren’t dating, and that's good for him. He needs time to figure out his life. He knows if he wants to be in Kiara’s life, he has to pay off his fathers debt’s and get out of the mafia, or else he will never truly have the life he wants.

Right now, he can see a future with Kiara. He can see himself waking up next to her, making breakfast. He can see himself enjoying a domestic life with her.

He knows he can’t have that right now. But he sure is gonna work like hell for it. For her.

[trashytummiez]

Story prompt: Izuku and Ochako are sharing a meal, but since they're both dorks, it gets rather awkward, so they try to distract themselves from the embarrassment by eating more food. This only serves to make them bloated and gassy, which makes the awkwardness worse, thus sparking a vicious cycle.

This one ended up being huuuuuuuge :o

Warning: contains arousal belly kink bloating burps burp kink tummy rubs

Since he first joined UA Izuku was always really close to Ochako. The two of them were of best friends ever since that first practical hero exam they took with all those robots. As their journey continued the two only became closer and closer. Both had made lots of friends within the school and had their own lives but they never lost touch with each other as their academic and heroic adventures progressed.

So when Ochako invited Izuku over to her dorm to cook together Izuku was thrilled to do so. They'd spent tons of time already cooking together at summer camp before the league invaded and ruined everything so this was like putting on an old glove for them. One that slipped on just as easily as when they first started.

Of course because the two of them were so lost in talking with each other and just hanging out as they cooked they ended up making a lot more food than they originally expected they would.

Well, at least they'd have plenty of leftovers right?

They both eventually sat at the table and put everything they cooked together at the center. Obviously there was way more food than either one intended to eat but at least they could just pick at whatever they wanted if whatever was on their plates wasn't enough.

The two teenagers quickly started eating and straight away their faces lit up at how good everything tasted.

“Mmmm wow this is delicious Ochako!” Izuku praised and took in another pretty big mouthful. After swallowing it down with a pretty hearty gulp Izuku smiled back at Ochako. “You're a really great cook!”

Ochako blushed and took a bite herself unable to gush at the flavor. She gulped and waved her hand modestly. “Oh I just followed the recipe. It was a lot easier than usual with how fast you prepped all the ingredients. I guess with all those muscles chopping meat and veggies is a lot easier huh.”

It was Izuku's turn to blush when he heard that which made him turn to his food. He instinctively ate more to mask his blush. Ochako couldn't help but notice the way Izuku ate. For such a gentle boy Izuku had one of the biggest appetites in the entire school. He could often eat more than most of his most gluttonous classmates. And as he ate here Ochako noticed that he was taking really big mouthfuls and gulping them so heavily that she could practically hear his throat squelching from across the table. Her eyes couldn't help but follow the sizable lumps that emerged and pushed down his throat before disappearing behind his chest.

For some reason that sight made Ochako blush a little more. So she in turn ate more as if to distract herself. Though even then Ochako noticed that Izuky had just the cutest smile on his face when he ate. It was absolutely adorable. There really was such an endearingly boyish quality to Izuku. An innocence and adorability no other student at the school had. Though why she was thinking about that now she didnt know. Which might explain why she once again started eating more to take her mind off of her wandering thoughts.

Izuku finished in record time. He leaned back and sighed contently. “Ahh that was so good,” he said rubbing his stomach contently.

Surprisingly Ochako finished shortly after he did. She huffed very softly and smiled back at Izuku. “You said it Deku! This tasted better than usual for some reason!” She said and patted her tummy happily with both hands. Suddenly she hiccuped making her blush and very quickly cover her mouth. “Oops! Heh excuse me. Think I ate a little faster than usual there.”

“I noticed,” Izuku said with a blush of his own. “Maybe you were hungrier than you thought?”

“M-Maybe,” Ochako conceded. Then she turned to the food still at the table and smiled innocently. “Well good thing there's still so much more right?” She quickly loaded her plate with more food to distract herself.

“G-Good point. No reason we can't enjoy a little more when everything's still fresh,” Izuku said and joined Ochako in reloading his plate.

There was noticeably more on both of their plates than the first go especially Izuku's. The two teens quickly started eating more and seemed to relax a little when they did so. Everything just tasted that good.

Once again when she ate Ochako couldn't take her eyes off of Izuku. He wasn't ravenous like so many other boys in school when he ate. But something about watching him eat so much gave her a funny feeling. She couldn't peg what it was though. The hums he gave were so cute as was his smile. But the way she could see each gulp send a lump protruding down his throat and get capped with a very soft and subtle huff from the boy only stirred Ochako in a way she couldn't describe. But it certainly made her blush which only led to her eating even more to distract herself.

Something else caught Ochako's eye.

Izuku was eating so much that after a while his normally flat and muscular stomach looked like it was beginning to stick out. It wasn't entirely noticeable but his t-shirt was definitely looking noticeably more snug around the middle than it usually did. Why was that detail making her cheeks so warm?

Izuku's thoughts weren't much better. He couldn't not notice Ochako as she ate or how fast she was eating. It was surprising that a girl like her could eat so much and so quickly. And something about that fact caused a stir in Izuku's tummy. Almost like butterflies. Especially when he noticed her own flat tummy beginning to poke out from how much she was eating at so fast a pace.

Why did that detail catch his attention so much?

To take his mind off of that Izuku plowed through his second plate and eventually polished it off. Izuku huffed to himself and rubbed his belly. He still looked satisfied but also had a hint of weariness when he rubbed. Something about seeing Izuku massaging his tummy stirred Ochako even further prompting her to eat faster. Izuku appeared strained for a moment which made his rubbing stop. Instead his fingers tightened against his stomach and he held a fist up to his mouth in time to give a deep closed mouth burp. Even muffled the rumbling sound was pretty loud.

Izuku blushed and smiled sheepishly at Ochako. “...E-Excuse me.”

Ochako giggled and said “You're excused” playfully. But even her giggle didn't hide the fact that the sound had her blushing even more. What was wrong with her?

To Ochako's surprise Izuku quickly loaded his plate with even more food.

“Wow Deku you really are hungry aren't you,” she said.

“M-Maybe a little,” Izuku lied.

Ochako finished her own plate and followed suit. Both teens quickly distracted themselves with more food. Something about eating together without Iida there felt foreign to them. Not unwelcome but oddly anxiety inducing. It was hard to really describe because they both loved each others company and cared deeply for one another. Yet being alone and dining together felt...strange to them. Especially the act itself of just seeing each other eat. Was there something the two had in common and didn't realize until now?

By the time they finished their third plates both were noticeably more full than the first and second go. “Whew. Oh wow. This stuff is almost too good not to keep eating,” Izuku praised as he leaned back and rubbed his belly. It was definitely more noticeably bloated than it was before.

Ochako huffed in a slightly more exhausted way when she leaned back in her chair and held her bulging tummy in both hands. “Ohh man you're not kidding Deku. I'm so full,” Ochako said. And clearly she was even fuller than she realized because without warning Ochako burped loudly. Her face turned as red as Red Riot's dyed hair when she clamped her mouth shut with both hands and went completely wide-eyed. “Oh g-gosh excuse me! I'm so sorry!” She sputtered with embarrassment.

Izuku looked genuinely surprised to hear Ochako of all people give such an impressive burp. But he nonetheless giggled with genuine amusement and said, “Don't be sorry that was a good one!”

“Yeah but that was so unladylike and gross!” Ochako whined in a humiliated way.

“It's only natural. We both ate a lot and ate it real fast. Of course you're gonna have a lot of air in your tummy,” Izuku explained blushing a bit at saying the word 'tummy' out loud which even Ochako smiled somewhat at hearing despite her embarrassment.

Just to prove his point Izuku leaned back in his chair and patted his belly which caused a loud echoing burp to roll out of Izuku's mouth. He normally held them in which was why his closed mouth burps always rumbled so hard . But when he let them out freely they were some of the loudest a person could give.

Ochako was naturally taken back since Izuku was so well mannered. But not only did seeing him let loose so loudly dispel her embarrassment it also had her cheeks blushing for a different reason.

Izuku blushed after. Clearly even he wasn't used to letting out an eruption like that but he nonetheless giggled and smiled back at Ochako. “See?”

She couldn't help but smile gratefully at him for doing that just to make Ochako feel less embarrassed. “Thanks Deku.”

He simply beamed preciously back at her. Then a thought occurred to him. “Can I ask you something Ochako? Don't you usually go off campus with Tsu and Mina most weekend nights to eat out together?”

“Yeah but we've both been so busy these days I thought it might be nice if we could catch up. Just the two of us,” Ochako replied.

Izuku smiled softly. “I'm really glad you did. I always love getting to spend time with you.”

Ochako smiled right back in a very fond and familiar sort of way. “Me too Deku.”

Then Izuku said the quiet part out loud when he scratched the back of his mop of hair and innocently said, “You know from an outside perspective this would almost look like a date!”

The silence between them was deafening.

But the freakout was hilarious.

“A w-w-w-WHAT?!?!” Ochako sputtered with eyes like baseballs.

“AHHH! I-I DIDN'T MEAN LikE-O-OF COURSE THIS ISN'T A DATE!!!” Izuku flailed hysterically while laughing nervously. “JUST TWO FRIENDS HAVING DINNER RIGHT?!”

“R-RIGHT! N-NOTHING ROMANTIC ABOUT THAT!!” Ochako insisted while laughing just as nervously and loudly as Izuku was.

“OF COURSE NOT! FRIENDS DO THAT ALL THE TIME DON'T THEY?”

“ALL THE TIME! JUST-A-ALL THE TIME! EVERY TIME!!!”

“EXACTLY!!”

“RIGHT!!! AND FRIENDS GET FUNNY FEELINGS WATCHING THEIR FRIENDS EAT ALL THE TIME TOO-” Ochako froze in place when she realized she said that part out loud.

Izuku was frozen in place mid-freakout. And in a hilariously deadpanned way he asked, “...What was that last part?”

Ochako's face looked like it was steaming. She sputtered in her inability to think of anything to say. So instead she turned to the food still at the table. “Y-You know I think I'm just really hungry! I'm just gonna go ahead and help myself!”

“G-Good call!” Izuku concurred and loaded his own plate with as much food as it could fit just as Ochako did. “It's still fresh after all! Tastes best going down when it's fresh right?”

“E-Exactly!” Ochako agreed and both immediately stuffed their faces with as much food as they could cram down their gullets at once. Absolutely anything they could do to shut themselves up before admitting anything else out loud.

It didn't matter how full either one was they just kept on eating and eating. Anything to get over the immense embarrassment both felt at admitting anything like romantic feelings towards one another. Such talk was absolute crazy talk after all. It had to be. At least that's what both teens convinced themselves in between swallowing one giant mouthful of food after another.

And the whole while they continued stuffing themselves their tummies continued to expand with the sudden rush of food going down their throats all at once. Both of their stomachs only continued to press and round out more and more with every few hearty gulps both took. Ochako's tummy was getting so big that her bare flesh was beginning to peak out from underneath her shirt. Izuku's tummy was even bigger revealing more of his pale stomach beneath his t-shirt and almost starting to ride up around his belly button. Their embarrassment was thus that they couldn't help just shoveling more and more food down their gullets without any train of thought to it beyond the same thought of “why did I say that?!” playing on loop in their heads respectively.

If these two were at a national eating contest they would win in a heartbeat at the rate they were eating.

The good news was that they had eventually gotten over their embarrassment in the midst of their flustered feeding frenzy. Unfortunately that only happened when the two of them had finished every bit of food they had prepped which left them both incredibly bloated and overstuffed beyond reason.

"Unnnngh...I can't believe we ate so much..." Ochako moaned scooting her chair back and rubbing her incredibly bloated tummy all over with both hands. She looked like she swallowed a beach ball with how round her belly had become in her embarrassment fueled binge.

Her big tummy gave a big grumble which caused an even bigger gas bubble to rush up her throat. Her cheeks puffed as she covered her mouth to try and hold it in but the force of it was so strong that she blew her hand back with a huge absolutely unladylike burp.

HHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUURRRRAAAAAAAAHHHPPP!!!!!!

She blushed immensely and covered her mouth after that powerful eruption ripped past her lush lips.

"...Ex-cuuuUUUuu-se...m-me-eurp-oh god..." Ochako's embarrassment was made even worse when she tried to excuse herself but accidentally burped in the middle of it.

Fortunately her embarrassment was short lived. The immensely overstuffed Izuku held his huge pregnant looking belly with both hands and let loose a giant burp that somehow dwarfed Ochako's in length and volume and practically echoed throughout her whole living quarters.

BBBRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUURRRRRHHHRRREEEEEEEEEEEEUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOORRRRLPPP!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ochako could seriously feel that record breaking eructation Izuku let loose rattle in her own bones. To say nothing of the blood it sent rushing both to her increasingly red face and her loins.

Izuku panted breathlessly. His huge belly rose and fell with his strained breathing after having so much air ripped out of him all at once like that. He tried to speak but grew strained. Instead he patted the side of his round bare belly hard and gave another burp. It wasn't as deafening as that monster he just let out but it still extended for a few seconds straight.

After Izuku leaned back in his chair and sighed while he ran his hands across his vast pale tummy. "Ohhhh man I'm ssssooo full..." Izuku moaned then brought a fist up to his mouth to give a deep closed mouth after burp.

He was so gassy and Ochako was loving it even if she wasn't faring any better.

The two teenagers struggled under the weight of their own tummies. But they fortunately managed to push themselves up and get themselves sitting down on Ochako's couch together. They sat down next to each other and their immensely stuffed tummies churned and grumbled noisily like washing machines.

Both them looked completely spent. They both groaned and massaged their overstuffed tummies which were gurgling heavier than they'd ever gurgled before.

"Ungh my tummy is killing me..." Ochako whined while she nursed her aching belly smoothly with her hands running up and down her tight bloated flesh. "...Why did we eat so much...?"

Izuku kneaded his much larger tummy until he gave another long throaty burp. Ochako blushed heavily at how she could feel it vibrate through the couch.

"...Wow you sure are burping a lot Deku," Ochako noted in a quieted tone of voice. Like she was doing her best to hide how much it was turning her on.

"Sorry I know it's gross but-"

"-I-I don't mind you can keep doing it!" Ochako blurted and blushed even more. She hoped she didn't sound too desperate when she said that.

Izuku scratched the back of his head whilst still massaging his churning tummy with one hand. "Well I was gonna say it's helping to ease some of the pressure in my tummy. You should let a few out too. It might make your own tummy hurt less."

To illustrate his point Izuku thumped his chest and gave another heavy burp that left him moaning after at how good it felt. Ochako watched Izuku knead and push down on his large round tummy really kneading his fingers into his flesh. And every time he did a really hearty burp would roll out of his throat so forcefully at times he'd even drool a little.

He normally would've been embarrassed about burping so much and so loudly around others especially Ochako. But he'd eaten so much that it was the only way he could settle his stomach down without getting sick.

Little did he realize how much Ochako was enjoying the show.

Ochako's blush wasn't going away anytime soon. She could've just sat there watching Izuku burp well into the night but she was still suffering a pretty bad tummyache herself. So she at least tried to take Izuku's advice to heart. Ochako kneaded her tummy trying to apply pressure that would force more gas out. After doing some kneading she was rewarded with a thick burp that tore out of her mouth.

HHUUUAAAAARRRRRRUUUUUHP!!!!!

It was pretty strong and left her huffing but didn't bring her the relief she was hoping it would. Especially when her tummy gave an even thicker grumble that made her cringe uncomfortably.

"There you go. Feel any better?" Izuku asked.

Ochako pushed down on her tummy again and managed to squeeze another burp out but it was a lot lighter and more strained.

"Ungh I think they're stuck..."

Izuku bit his lips and blushed himself. "...Can I...give you a hand...?" He suggested holding up his hand and gesturing to Ochako's belly.

His face was as red as hers in that moment. But Ochako quietly nodded and leaned back against the couch which made her big round tummy stick out more.

Izuku bit his lower lip and very hesitantly placed his hands on Ochako's belly. He almost whimpered at the way Ochako's bare skin felt beneath his fingers. Her flesh was smooth and soft yet as tight as his from how bloated they both were. He'd always fantasized rubbing ochako's tummy before but never imagined he'd get the chance to actually do so.

He was legitimately overwhelmed.

But once his nerves settled Izuku proceeded to rub Ochako's troubled tummy in smooth circles. Her stomach felt so warm from her natural warmth and the massive amount of fresh food she managed to eat all in one go like that. There was a light wobble to her tummy that caused everything inside of Ochako to slosh lightly with Izuku's hand movements.

Though Ochako's face was red at having Izuku touch her, she groaned at how good that touch felt against her utterly bloated stomach. That only made Izuku blush even more but he continued to rub. Izuku practically lost himself in the feeling of Ochako's tummy. He rubbed his hands across her tummy from the softer thicker bottom all the way to the rounded top of her stomach. The boy almost had to resist the urge to rest his ear against her belly and listen to it gurgling away.

While he rubbed he felt tense portions of skin where gas was brewing and pressed down on Ochako's belly carefully but firmly enough to dislodge the gas. His push was stronger than Ochako's meaning he got a larger portion of gas out. The result of which was a loud really deep burp that sounded like it came from the very depths of Ochako's stomach.

BWROOOUUUUUUUURRRAAAAHP!!!!!!!!

Ochako gasped heavily and covered her mouth out of instinct.

Izuku giggled softly and blushed himself. "Heh hey don't be sorry. A lot of the guys would probably be jealous if they could hear that. But did that at least help?"

"Yeah actually, it kind of relieved some of that tight painful pressure in my tummy," Ochako admitted.

Izuku couldn't help but smile at not being the only one who used the word 'tummy' in the room. "Should I keep going then?"

Ochako hummed and nodded a little more comfortably eager for Izuku's touch.

He continued rubbing her belly all over and using his fingers to push into her flesh. Izuku occasionally just got lost in marveling at Ochako's beautiful belly. The little freckles across her lower tummy and that unbelievably perfect looking belly button. He couldn't help placing his palm just over her navel and blushed furiously when he felt it up. Though when he applied pressure to it Ochako lurched with a sizable gas bubble working its way up her throat.

She instinctively covered her mouth and went wide eyed unsure if she was about to throw up at first.

Instead her hand was blown back as Ochako gave a massive burp that caused some drips of spittle to fly out of her delicate mouth.

HUUUUUUUUUAAAARRRRRRRUUUUUURRRAAAAAAAAHHHP!!!!!!!

As soon as that considerable gas pocket rushed out of Ochako another huge throaty burp followed almost instantly and jostled her tummy slightly in Izuku's trembling hands.

BBBRRRREEEEEEEEUUUUUUUURRRROOOOOOOORRRRAAAAAAAUUUP!!!!!!!

Izuku was kind of stunned. He'd never heard a girl burp so loudly or so frequently in his life, not even Mina. And the absolute last person he expected to hear such sounds from was Ochako.

It was incredibly surprising...and surprisingly hot at the same time. Especially the way her tummy felt like it was jiggling in his hands as the burps rolled out of her.

He smiled and gave the side of her tummy a few pats. "There you go just get it all out," he said.

And Ochako certainly didn't have any problem with that. The more Izuku kneaded her belly the more Ochako found herself burping frequently and quite loudly. There had to be a lot of pressure in her tummy to see her burping so much and so hard.

After a really long eruption rolled out of the girl she slumped back against the couch panting breathlessly. The relief she felt was incredible.

"Ungh...ohhh...w-ooOOOOOoooowwW!!!" Ochako blushed even more despite her decidedly crass onslaught of expulsions just a moment ago. She thought she got it all out but ended up burping the word 'wow' out unexpectedly.

But Izuku saw her embarrassment and grinned. He kneaded his own tummy and gave it a firm pat to burp his response right back.

GooOOod...

...ooOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNEEEE!!!!!!

UUUUURRRRrrrhpp!!!!

Ochako looked surprised to hear sweet Izuku burp talk the response "good one" back at her before just letting out a deep burp at the end. She managed a strained giggle but was blushing furiously.

"I did that on accident...you can burp-talk on command like that?" Ochako asked looking visibly flustered which Izuku didn't seem to catch onto.

"Heh yep! Trick I picked up on as a kid but I don't do it much these days since it's pretty childish."

Between the relief Izuku provided having his hands all over her tummy and her burping her brains out moments ago Ochako's thirst crept up and got the best of her.

"...Well it is just us...besides," Ochako reached over and sneaked herself a feel of Izuku's belly by giving it a playful pat making the much larger tummy ripple a little as everything inside sloshed around and gurgled. "It sounds to me like your tummy could use a little relief too."

Izuku hiccuped from the patting and then Ochako began to gently rub Izuku's much larger belly in a more sensual way. Her touch made him shiver. But it also made his tummy gurgle richly. He grunted and rubbed his chest tenderly.

"Nrf good point. Do you want me to say anything?"

She knew almost right away what she wanted to hear and nudged that large swollen tummy of his insistently when she answered. "...Could you try...burping my name?"

Her thirst was so palpable at that point that even sweet and oblivious Izuku finally picked up on what she was asking and why. There was a slight flicker in his big adorable eyes. Izuku grinned and took in some air until he couldn't take anymore in. Then he leaned in a little closer and gave Ochako exactly what she wanted.

OoooooooooooooOOooooooooo-

chAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaak...

...ooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRrrmmmph!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Izuku burped out Ochako's name straining in the middle until he massively burped out the last syllable in her name stretching it out for as long as he could until he intentionally closed his mouth at the end and let it turn into a big closed mouth burp that Ochako could hear rumbling right in her ear until it ended.

To say that Ochako's arousal reached a fever high would be the ultimate understatement.

Izuku subtly blew the gas out from the side of his mouth and gave his blushing friend a smile that was a cross between sultry and cheeky.

"We should do this again sometime," Izuku said and gently ran his hand over Ochako's burbling tummy.

Ochako leaned in and caught Izuku by surprise by planting her lips onto his. Clearly she couldn't agree fast enough.

[luffles424]

Luminous

☼ Pairing: Jimin x reader 

☼ Genre: tentacle monster!Jimin, some fluff, smut, mostly just pwp

☼ Count: 9k

☼ Warnings: 18+, public sex (no ones around but they’re on the beach), tentacles (kind of a given), big dick jimin, manhandling, lots of cum, some cumplay, creampie, cum inflation/belly bulge (not a whole lot, just a small bump) unprotected sex, restraints, choking, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, tit fucking, thigh fucking, oral (m recieving), deep throating, anal, double penatration, minor nipple play, praise kink, mating cycles, slight impreg kink

☼ Summary: The Busan summer festival is your favorite event of the year. You like all the food and things to do, but your favorite part is watching the fireworks at the end of the night, gathered with friends and family. It’s fun and joyous. Except this year you’re spending it without them. So you find a secluded spot on the beach to watch alone. Except... you might not be as alone as you thought you were out here. 

☼ a/n:  This was written for Sol’s (jamaisjoons) collab event ‘The Summer Bucketlist’ and my prompt was ‘watching fireworks.’ Uhhh this idea was originally very different and then I started thinking about tentacles and now here we are 🥴🥴🥴 Hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! My ask box is always open ~ 💙💙💙💙

☼ Banner made by the absolutely amazing @jamaisjoons​ (who did such wonderful work on it and I hope the fic lives up to the beautiful banner she made me 💕💕💕)

You let out a small contented sigh as you slip your feet into the water. This is your favorite place in all of Busan, this hidden little jutty of rock just off one of the smaller, less popular beaches, more popular among locals only. You’ve spent more time than you can count out here hanging out with your friends, passing the time and using the salty sea breeze to help combat the heat of summer. You’ve been out here plenty on your own too, just like how you’re out here alone right now. 

The sun’s dipping below the horizon, the sky slowly turning an inky black. The perfect backdrop to what’s going to happen soon and the main reason you’re out here at all to begin with rather than at home. The summer festival is happening and once the sun disappears, the sky will be decorated with fireworks, and you and your friends discovered years ago that this is the best spot to watch them, unobstructed and no one around to fight for seats. 

You kick your feet idly in the water, enjoying the warmth of it as you lean back on your hands as you watch the last few rays of light slip away. You wished your friends could’ve made it though. But Namjoon was stuck in the city for work and Taehyung was out with his girlfriend at the festival. A brief feeling of sadness overcomes you because you had been planning to go with Taehyung and his girlfriend and your own boyfriend as a double date. Until he dumped you a week ago over text because he’d moved to the otherside of the country and apparently was nothing like the man you met since he didn’t even have the balls to break up in person. 

You suspect that there was a lot more than his flimsy excuse of it’s just not working and long distance is hard. It most likely has something to do with the new girl that you’ve been told about that has shown up on his socials. 

For what it’s worth, Taehyung and Namjoon both offered you company but you waved them off. Namjoon’s job opportunity is much more important and as much as you love Taehyung and his girlfriend, you didn’t particularly feel like being third wheel to their (normally adorable and heart warming) love. 

You think this is better anyway. It’s peaceful out here. The smell of salt being carried by the breeze brings a myriad of memories that all bring a smile to your face and it’s easy to forget about the hard things in this moment. It’s healing to be out here. As much as it sucked that you got dumped, you can’t be too upset. You saw the cracks forming the more he opened his mouth and talked, if he hadn’t done it, you likely would have been doing it soon anyway. You let your head fall back, letting your eyes slip closed as you simply enjoyed this. You should tell the others that you all need to make another trip out here soon. 

Plus you’d come much earlier when the sun was still high and swam some. Using the ebb and flow of the ocean to erode your worries and stress. Then you’d sprawled out on your beach towel on your rocky perch and let the sunset dry your skin before you slipped back into your shorts and tank top and allowed the peacefulness to swallow you. 

You startle slightly when there’s a loud, echoing boom and color flashes across the sky. You’d been lulled into such calmness and had almost forgotten why you were out here to begin with. You watch the sky passively, watching the occasional flash of color and shapes as the firework people warm themselves and the crowds up. You know the real show won’t start for at least another 45 minutes, knowing the tell by the fact that there’s still the faintest of traces of blue on the horizon. 

Your feet continue their idle movements in the water, until something slick brushes the bottom of your foot and you scream on instinct, quickly jerking your foot free from the water. You back up an extra foot from the edge, to the safety of the blanket that you spread across the rocks, just as an extra precaution. You’re sure that whatever touched you was probably just seaweed. Maybe a plastic bag or some other trash that someone carelessly threw into the ocean. But anything touching you in the water when the water is nothing more than an inky black expanse is enough for you to decide that’s enough soaking for the night.

Just as your heart rate is returning to normal, something slips over the edge of the rocks where you’d just been sitting. It gleams in the moonlight, silver, smooth, and shiny, as it makes a cursory probe at the edge, like it’s looking for something. It’s probably no thicker than your thumb and you deliriously wonder if octopi are even capable of coming up on dry land, let alone the reason why one might be coming up right now. Though the longer you stare at it, the more you realize that it’s far too smooth to be from an octopus, completely devoid of the telltale suckers. 

You shuffle a little further away. You really don’t want to move too quickly, not if you don’t know what it even is and if it can follow you or how fast whatever it is. But your slight movement only seems to catch it’s attention and to your growing horror, it lashes out almost faster than you can see and wraps itself firmly around your ankle. You scream again, because aside from that, there’s really very little you can do out here all alone with it on you.

Any attempts to free yourself prove futile, the slender appendage is far stronger than you would’ve expected from such a jelly-like creature. It gives its own experimental tug, one that pulls you marginally closer to the water before you once again scramble backwards. It lets you and that just serves to freak you out more.

Then, a few more tentacles appear over the edge of the rock, watering dripping and spreading out around them and then there’s a… hand? You frown as a seemingly human hand, if perhaps a little ashen looking, plants itself on the rock right alongside the tentacles. The fingers flex for a moment before something, somehow even more surprising, appears. A fairly human face, or at least up to the eyes as that’s the furthest it raises, peaks up over the edge, gaze quickly zeroing in on you. Your heart stutters in your chest as your eyes meet and its pale silver eyes gleam like its tentacles. It’s hair is wet and slicked back and, though the locks are currently water logged and a few shades darker, it’s clearly also a similar shade of silver as its tentacles and eyes. 

Another hand joins the first along the edge of the rocks and for a moment it doesn’t move at all. You stare at it, you know it’s definitely bigger than an octopus now. You don’t think you could take it. It’s dead silent aside from the gentle lapping of the waves and you’re terrified to move for fear of what it’s going to do to you. It gives the slightest of tugs on your ankle and when you don’t budge it finally lifts itself from the water. 

You try to back away again, but it’s grip keeps you in place and you let out a startled scream when another tentacle darts out to wrap itself around your other ankle. The… monster… sits on its knees at the edge for a moment after pulling itself from the water. 

It, he?, looks almost perfectly human. Skin a dimmed golden shade, frame small but packed with lean muscle… apparently well endowed in human terms. You jerk your gaze quickly away when you realize just where you're staring. Your life is on the line, now is not the time to to fucking ogle the monster and think about if he can get hard like a human and if it possibly gets bigger. You force yourself back to his face, cheekbones prominent and lips plush as he seems to be looking you over as well, though his gaze continually seems to dart behind you, brows knitting in confusion. 

His eyes appear almost human except that it doesn’t seem like he has a pupil, silver swallowing the whole of the iris. It’s slightly disconcerting. His tentacles shift behind him, drawing your attention to them finally. The ones not on you shift behind him restlessly, never seeming to settle. A thin one drapes itself on his shoulder before slithering across his skin to the other side, forming a strange sort of living necklace. It’s hard to pin down an exact number with them constantly moving, but there seems to be a lot and they seem to come in primarily two sizes, thinner ones like the one draped around his throat and wrapped around your ankles and thicker ones easily the width of 3 or 4 fingers, you try very hard not to compare their girth with what you had glimpsed between his legs. 

You’re trying to formulate a plan to get away when there’s another boom of a firework, bathing everything pink for a moment. And what you’re certainly not expecting is for the way the monster startles at the sound. The tentacles around your ankles tighten almost painfully and then before you can completely comprehend what’s going on, you’re being pulled closer to him. Once you're close enough, he’s leaning down over you and you squeeze your eyes shut, unsure of what’s about to happen but positive that it’s unlikely to be good.

But nothing happens and as the seconds stretch, you slowly peek an eye open. His face is almost directly above yours, but it’s not you that he’s looking at. Instead, he’s studiously scanning your surroundings, looking tense and on edge. When you glance at the way that he’s leaning over you, you realize that he seems to be almost… protecting you? Which only serves to confuse you more.

Deeming there to be no immediate threat, his gaze turns down to you and you freeze now that you're faced with him this close. He blinks down at you before his lips part and he makes a strange sort of clicking sound, but you’re more focused on the sharp teeth revealed when he makes noise. Definitely sharp enough to tear into you and eat his fill.

“Please don’t eat me,” you squeak out, hands coming up to cover your face.

There’s silence for a moment before a deep chuckle sounds from him. You peek between your fingers at him and there’s a smirk stretching his lips. 

“Oh, I have met your kind before.” His voice is soft and surprisingly melodious given the higher pitch the clicking was. 

You can’t help the words that slip from your lips. “My kind?”

His lips twitch and he tilts his head. “Humans. Are you not human?” He pushes himself up slightly to inspect you again. “You do not appear to be one of my kind.”

“There’s more of you?”

His gaze darts around. “A few.”

You swallow, about to speak again when another firework goes off. He startles above you and drops closer once more, body pressed firmly to yours as he glares around, trying to discover the source. 

You’d laugh at his constant startling if your throat wasn’t suddenly so dry. His chest is every bit as firm as it looked and you can feel every shift and ripple as he looks around. It’s incredibly distracting. Why did the monster have to be hot? You squeeze your eyes shut again. You should not be thinking about how it’d feel to touch the monster with your hands. Or how other parts of him would feel. 

He shifts off of you slightly. “It is safe for now.”

You blink your eyes open, frowning at him. “Safe? What are you talking about?”

His head tilts and he reminds you of a confused puppy. “Do you not hear the loud noises?”

A giggle slips out and that seems to perplex him further. “No, no. I do. It’s just… Have you not been around here before?” 

“I have always lived here.”

“Have you… been on land before?”

His brows pinch and there’s the slightest of flushes coloring his cheeks a deep blue-gray. “I come up here every year.”

“How have you not heard them before then? They’re just fireworks.” You see the streak of a new one and point to it quickly, drawing his attention to it just before it reaches its peak and explodes in a sparkling cascade of gold. “They’re for entertainment. They’re not dangerous.” You pause. “Okay they are. But not at this distance. The only people who could possibly be in danger would be the ones firing them.”

“Fire… works?” He mumbles, sitting back on his haunches as his face remains tilted towards the sky even though the phosphorus has long since burned out. “Will there be more?”

You slowly push yourself up, cautious of what he might do but his focus remains firmly upwards. “Yeah, they’ll keep shooting some singles off for a little bit longer then they’ll start the big show.”

He says nothing else and you wonder if you can use the time to slip away before you realize that he still has two tentacles wrapped around your ankles. There goes your chance for escape. At least he doesn’t seem interested in eating you. Yet.

Another firework goes and you watch his eyes widen as he follows its trajectory up until it stops in an explosion of color and sound. But you’re far more taken watching the childlike glee on his face and the way the colors gleam on his skin and tentacles. The colors add another level to his already stunning looks, making him look far more ethereal and angelic. He grins as he watches and he looks much less like a terrifying monster. Though you worry what will happen once the fireworks stop and there’s nothing to distract him. Maybe when the real show starts he’ll be so engrossed that you can slip yourself free of the tentacles and make a quick and quiet escape. 

You shake your head, looking away and up at the sky too. There’s nothing much you can do right now with their grip on you still too tight, so you might as well also watch the show. The fireworks are slowly starting to increase in frequency and he seems to squirm in excitement the closer together the pops of color come. 

“Do you have a name?” You ask suddenly, looking back over at him. Maybe you can text Namjoon or Taehyung and tell them that if you disappear to look for something with that name. Probably Taehyung. He’d be more likely to believe that you’ve been taken by a monster than Namjoon. He’d probably ask if you’ve drank or smoked anything. Get too drunk camping once and claim that bigfoot tried to kidnap you and you never get believed again. 

He doesn’t answer right away, doesn’t even seem to acknowledge that you spoke. But then his lips purse and he looks over at you for a moment. “Jimin.”

“Jimin?” He bobs his head and turns back to catch another firework going off. “My name’s Y/n.” You murmur, unsure if he’s even interested. 

It hurts a little that he didn’t seem interested in you back, but you suppose that you don’t know whatever his monster customs are. And you really shouldn’t look too deeply into why it hurts that a monster doesn’t seem interested in you. That should be a good thing. It means you have a better chance of getting away. 

There’s a long break in the fireworks and Jimin’s lips push out into an adorable pout as he turns to you with sad eyes. “Is it over?”

You laugh and shake your head. “No. It’s actually just getting ready to get started. Now it’s the big show. You thought it was good before. Just wait.”

He gives a simple nod and turns back to the sky, content to wait patiently for the rest. Silence descends on you both and you feel like you should be more worried about the tentacle monster sitting in front of you. But Jimin seems harmless enough, he certainly hasn’t tried to eat you or anything and that’s certainly got to count for something. He seems far more interested in the fireworks than in you now anyway. 

You’re just starting to relax when something cool and damp brushes the skin of your lower back. You freeze, back stiff as whatever it is tentatively touches the warm skin before slithering further up your shirt. You bite down on the urge to scream, you don’t want to startle Jimin again. Just because he was protective before, doesn’t mean that a scream coming from you would produce the same result. And before you can twist to see what is crawling up your shirt, the tentacles around your ankles slide a little further up your legs, ends timidly probing along your flesh as they go.

Another tentacle, one of the thicker ones, slides across your arm, wrapping once around your wrist and nestling the tip into your palm. The cool sensation is bizarrely familiar and it takes you only a moment to realize that whatever crawled up your shirt a moment ago is another tentacle. You’re about to speak when a thin tentacle trails up your arm to rest against your shoulder, gently tracing your jaw and neck. 

You swallow. “Um, Jimin?” All you get is a hum in response. Does he not realize what’s going on? “Jimin? What’s happening?”

Either your words or tone finally pulls his attention to you and when he sees his tentacles wrapped around you, he flushes a pretty blue. He scoots away, working to encourage them to release you, but this time of year they always have a bit more mind of their own. He makes an irritated clicking noise when they don’t move.

The one in your hand seems to respond to his sound though you’re not sure if it’s the way he wanted it to or not but it tightens around your wrist slightly before becoming… slicker?

You look at it, a weird mix of horror and maybe a little arousal. Maybe you shouldn’t have watched so much hentai when you were younger. You look back up at Jimin, at a complete loss. “Jimin?”

Jimin looks incredibly embarrassed, burying his face in his hands and making more distressed clicking noises. Probing tentacles aside, he looks adorable all flustered like this. A few of his tentacles wrap around his wrists and shoulders, patting his skin soothingly but that only seems to make him more distressed. 

The tentacle at your back has reached the tie to your bikini top beneath your shirt and is prodding at the knot with interest. You don’t know what to do to stop the distress you can practically feel coming from Jimin. The tentacle in your hand squirms slightly, drawing your attention back to it. You swallow, sneaking a quick peek at Jimin as you do the only, seemingly illogical, thing you can think of right now and you close your hand around the rowdy tentacle and squeeze. 

The result is instantaneous and certainly not what you had expected. Jimin moans. So then even if he’s not in control, he can still feel through them. Interesting to know. Jimin’s mouth hangs open for a moment before his gaze is meeting yours and you suddenly feel like maybe that was the wrong thing to do. 

There’s simmering fire in his eyes as he tries to speak as calmly and evenly as possibly. “I told you I come here once a year, correct?” You nod and he continues. “I come here to mate.”

You blink at him, mind completely blanking out. “M-mate?” You hate how high your voice sounds. 

He nods, sending a glare at the tentacles touching you. “When I saw you here, I had assumed you were one that I have spent the mating period with before.”

“Fuck, did I ruin your hookup?”

“Hookup?”

Your body heats with embarrassment. Maybe if you ask nicely, Jimin will let you go drown. “Whoever you were supposed to meet here. Did they not show up because I was here?”

He’s quick to shake his head. “I did not have plans. But sometimes if someone is near they will stop by. If they are not, I can take care of myself.”

The image of Jimin splayed out on the rocks by himself, tentacles sliding across his skin, wrapped around his cock, drawing more of those noises from him shoots straight to your core. Your pussy clenches around nothing and your hand accidentally tightens around Jimin’s tentacle again, drawing a gasp from him. 

“I apologize for not warning you sooner. The fireworks distracted me but it appears that it did not distract them.” He gestures to his tentacles. “Give me a moment and I should be able to free you so you can leave.”

His eyes slip closed and your gaze drags over him, startling slightly when you realize he’s started to grow hard too. You feel crazy that the first thing you think is how badly you want to touch. 

This is such a bad idea, but before you can stop yourself or second guess, you’re speaking. “What if... you didn’t though?”

Jimin freezes, but the tentacles seem to grow more restless at your words. Another thick one stretches the distance between you both to rest against your thigh, slicking your skin wherever it touches.

“You do not know what you are saying.” He grits out.

The tentacle in your hand squirms and you give it a small squeeze, maintaining eye contact with Jimin as you do so you get to fully enjoy the shudder that ripples through him. “I um, think I have a pretty good idea what I’m saying.”

He shakes his head, hair falling over his eyes. You didn’t think it would be so hard to convince a tentacle monster that you wanted him to fuck you. This was by far the stupidest thing you’ve ever done. For all you know, he could eat his partner afterwards. If you live past this encounter, no one would ever let you live it down. If they even believed you. Your gaze drops involuntarily back to his cock and you find that he's fully hard now. And it’s almost a little intimidating how big he is, longer and thicker than anything you’ve ever taken before. You don’t think your fingers would be able to wrap around the girth. But any apprehensions you think you’d feel normally are nowhere to be seen, all you feel is overwhelming want. You want to try to fit him, to feel the burn as he stretches you out. You want to taste and you want him to absolutely ruin you. 

Unsure of any other way to convince him that you do want this, you switch tactics. If you can’t convince him with words, you’ll just have to show him what you want. You release the tentacle in your hand, though it keeps itself wrapped around your wrist, and move to remove your shirt. Seeming to know your plan, or maybe just through a stroke of luck, the tentacle that has been exploring your bikini top seems to have discovered how to undo the ties and as your top hits the ground beside you, your top slips to your lap.

His eyes dip to the scrap of fabric in your lap before they trace slowly back up, expression worryingly blank. You belatedly realize that this might not even be a good signal to him that you do want this. You don’t know what others of his kind look like, if any of them look anything like you. For the most part, he looks human enough, you’d think that maybe this was enough, that maybe this is at least sort of familiar to him. You feel suddenly self conscious, this was such a dumb idea. You really shouldn’t let the horny brain lead. You’re just about to cross your arms to cover yourself when the tentacle that had been on your thigh slithers up your stomach to sit between your breasts. 

You glance at Jimin and his eyes seem darker, jaw clenched tight. His tentacles seem to grow more agitated behind him and the ones around your ankles tighten to tug you closer, both to your surprise and apparently also Jimin’s. He flushes, staring down at you with wide eyes as your thighs come to rest against his. 

The tentacle on your chest squirms and Jimin’s gaze drops to watch. Your gaze drops too, intending to look at the tentacle currently writhing around on your chest and smearing slick there but you only make it halfway. Because Jimin is now fully hard, thick cock curving up towards his belly and the sight of it has you enraptured. He looked big when he was still soft, but now fully hard, or at least what you assume is fully hard, he looks positively massive. The skin of his cock is the same muted tan of the rest of him, the tip almost blue-gray, close to the color his cheeks turned but deeper in color, and it’s leaking more silvery looking fluid. You wonder if it’s the same thing that is leaking from his tentacles. 

Jimin shudders and it takes only a moment for you to realize that the reason is because a thin tentacle has wrapped itself around the base of his cock. It makes you want to touch too. So tentatively, you reach out, gaze flicking between his cock and his face to gauge his reaction and giving him more than enough time to pull away. 

He watches your fingers brush against the tip, dragging a smear of slick further down the shaft but he makes no move to stop you. He lets out a shaky exhale and, emboldened by the noise, you wrap your fingers around him. Or you at least try your best to because his girth keeps your fingers from meeting. 

Jimin makes a rumbling noise and then there are two more tentacles massaging at your thighs, working their way up until they meet the edge of your shorts. They only probe along the fabric for a moment before slipping beneath and continuing their exploration towards the apex of your thighs. They trace the edge of your bikini bottoms before one of them presses against your pussy through the thin fabric. 

You gasp and Jimin’s gaze is back on your face, attention wholly focused on you as his tentacles press again, but this time with a little more pressure. One happens to brush past your clit and you jolt, a moan slipping from your lips and the tentacles seem desperate to recreate that reaction as they narrow their focus to your clit. 

Jimin groans again and his hands come up to cup your cheeks, his tentacles all stilling for a moment. He waits until you look up at him. “Are you sure? It will be harder to stop once we start. Are you positive you can handle it? I do not mind spending the time alone.”

It’s sweet how concerned he is about you. But now that he’s started, all you can think about is being fucked by him while his tentacles play with every inch of you. You squirm back slightly and he seems to take that as rejection, if the flash of disappointment you catch on his face is anything to go by. You quickly undo your shorts, tugging them down your legs, assisted by his tentacles once they reach your ankles. 

He swallows and you watch as the tentacles from your ankles relocate to your thighs to keep you spread wide as the two that had been in your pants resume their work on your clit, now free of the hindrance of cloth. You bring your slick fingers to your mouth and keep eye contact as you lick them clean. It’s salty like the sea, but rather than the bitterness of cum, his has a hint of sweetness to it. It’s slightly addictive.

He stares at you for a moment and then he’s making another clicking noise and the tentacle that had been around your wrist unwraps itself and slips between your legs to join the other two already there, though it bypasses your clit to circle your dripping hole instead. 

“Needy.” He coos, though you’re not sure if it’s directed at you or his tentacles. Maybe both. 

He shuffles in close again, seemingly content to just watch his tentacles play with you. You whine, you like the feel of his tentacles, but you want him to touch with his hands and lips too. You want more. Maybe the needy was directed at you after all. He glances up at your noise, watching the way your mouth drops open as his tentacle finally wriggles it’s way into your pussy. It’s firmer than you expected from touching it, but still much more malleable than a cock would be. But it’s softer nature allows it greater freedom to explore your walls as it moves slowly in and out of you, certainly a different experience for you but you definitely can’t find it in you to hate it when it can reach all the right spots inside of you easily.

You reach out, grabbing the first part of Jimin you can grab, his arm, and tug him insistently down on top of you. He complies easily, seemingly curious as to what you want. You wonder if he’s ever kissed a partner before, if that’s something that his kind does. You hesitate and Jimin immediately notices, head tilting in curiosity. 

“What is wrong?”

You’re gasping before you can formulate your question, the tentacle inside you having quickly found your g-spot and is now making sure to rub it with every thrust, sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body. Jimin’s head dips down and his nose rubs against yours. 

“Are you okay? I have never been with a human and so I am unsure of what might hurt or bring pleasure. Please tell me if they are hurting you.”

He looks so sweet and it makes your heart stutter a little. You tilt your head, capturing his plush lips in a kiss. They’re warmer than you expected, giving the cooler temperature of his tentacles. It takes him a moment of inaction before he seems to catch on to how to kiss back. He makes a small noise when your tongue brushes his lips but he easily parts them for you. His sharp teeth skim your lip and it leaves you gasping into his mouth. He seems pleased with the response and he trails his lips across your jaw and down your neck. 

“You did not answer my question.” He murmurs, teeth gently teasing the skin of your neck, mindful of their sharpness. 

His tentacles are driving you mad, bringing you so close to your orgasm but seeming to know exactly when to slow back down to draw it out even longer. “What… question?” You gasp out.

“Are you okay?”

You’d scoff if the tentacles around your clit hadn’t started circling in tandem, winding the coil in your belly tighter. “So… so okay… Fuck, Jimin, are you sure you’ve never been with a human before?”

He pulls away from your neck enough to look down at you, a pleased smile stretching his lips. “I have not. Am I doing good?”

You nod enthusiastically, hands tangling in his hair to pull him back in for a messy kiss. He makes a pleased sort of clicking noise in the back of his throat and his tentacles speed up. And this time when your orgasm draws near his tentacles keep their speed rather than slowing again and you cum, back arching off the blanket as your pussy convulses around the tentacle. His tentacles continue their ministrations and Jimin pulls away to stare down at where his tentacle disappears inside you with wide eyed wonder. 

He groans as he watches with rapt attention. “Does it do this every time?”

You squirm, oversensitivity quickly setting in as his tentacles refuse to let up. The borderline painful feeling robs you of words to tell him to slow down and give you just a moment to breath. The tentacle inside of you swells and then everything grows a little slicker as Jimin chokes on a gasp. You struggle to reach out to grasp any one of the tentacles, to just lessen the sensations ravaging your pussy just a little, but before you can even make contact, another tentacle is wrapping around both wrists and dragging them above your head. 

“J-Jimin, please…”

Jimin pays you no mind, tentacles working faster under his focused gaze and it doesn't take long for you to be thrown into a second orgasm, though it feels almost like the first one never ended. You cry out, much too loud even if the beach is seemingly deserted right now. You shudder as your orgasm crests and Jimin’s tentacle seems to stiffen inside you before you feel suddenly wetter and stickier and full. The tentacle slips out of you after a few weaker thrusts and a small gush of thick liquid follows and the tentacle suddenly seems much less enthusiastic than its counterparts. Fuck, did that mean…?

“Jimin,” you whine, waiting until he finally tears his gaze away from your dripping pussy. “Do… do your tentacles cum too?”

His head tilts in confusion. “Come?” He thinks for a moment before realization seems to overcome him. “Ah. Do you mean do my tentacles also release?”

Embarrassment creeps over you. Something so clinical shouldn’t have you aching to be filled again when you just came twice and apparently already filled. You nod shyly. 

“Yes. They also release. It is to give the best chance of a successful mating.”

You swallow, eyeing the tentacles behind him wearily. “Do they all have to?”

He shakes his head, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. “They do not. Only the big ones release. And from those, they do not all release every mating.”

You feel equal parts relieved and disappointed, though you know that you should probably question your disappointment. But you’ve already come this far, no reason to start questioning your potentially bad decisions now. 

He tilts his head. “Does it bother you? They do not need to do it near you if it makes you uncomfortable.”

You choke, unsure how to respond for a moment. This whole situation should really terrify and appall you. But you only find yourself growing hotter at the idea of being used by his tentacles and covered in their cum. You chew your lip before giving a small nod. 

His eyes trace over your face before he seems to light up and he leans down to press a kiss to your lips. “Does the thought of that arouse you, sweet? I must admit, most of my previous partners were less than enthused about that aspect of mating.”

You groan, wanting nothing more than to bury your face in your hands in shame but Jimin’s tentacles keep your hands studiously bound above your head. Even his own kind didn’t like it. Why were you so weird? He giggles, leaning down to brush your nose with his own. His face is set with a kind smile, but his eyes still dance with mirth and lust. 

“I find it very arousing that you like it so much. Tell me what you are thinking about, sweet.”

To punctuate his words, another tentacle slips between your legs, rubbing along your sticky slit. You moan and Jimin’s eyes shine with fire. “I… was thinking about you fucking me and filling me up and leaving me all messy.”

He smirks. “I can do that, sweet. Just ask.”

“Jimin, please, fuck me… Fuck, ruin me…”

Jimin’s grin turns positively feral, sharp teeth on display. And for a moment, fear ripples through you as Jimin looks truly like a monster for the first time since he’s surfaced. But then his tentacles shift around him, eager for their chance to touch. Jimin shoos the thick tentacle away from your pussy, the ones around your thighs assisting him in situating you how he wants. He runs the tips of his cock through the mess left there by his tentacle and a pleased chirp leaves him. 

“You are already so full. Do you think you can take more?” He purrs.

You nod and his cock presses against your entrance. He presses just the tip in and he stretches your pussy more than the tentacle did. You gasp, breath robbed from you as the stretch borders on too much. But Jimin seems to sense it and pauses with just the tip inside, allowing you all the time to adjust to his massive cock. 

Jimin’s hands skim up your thighs, the tentacles resting passively on your clit once again coming to life and the jolt of pleasure has you squirming on Jimin’s cock. His hands rest on your hips, gripping them with bruising strength to keep you from moving. You whimper at the casual display of strength, at the way that he seems to not even be trying to hold you still while his tentacles slowly circle your clit to get you to relax. 

Two other tentacles slip up your body, pressing against your breasts and kneading at the flesh experimentally. The sensation is different, while the tentacles don’t have the surface area the way a hand does, they are capable of moving in ways a hand simply can’t. They grope at the flesh, exploring and testing the limits. One brushes past your nipple, causing you to gasp and suddenly both are on the pebbled buds, playing with them to draw even more noises from you. Their motions mimic the motions on your clit and pleasure sparks across your body once again. 

The tentacles shift slightly, long bodies draping down the sides of your breasts and then they press the mounds inwards, forcing the flesh together around the tentacle still resting on your sternum. Jimin grunts at the sudden pressure around his tentacle and your gaze drops to watch with fascination as the tentacle starts to thrust into the tight space, silvery tip gleaming with each press through. 

Your pussy clenches at the thought of it slipping a little further up and into your mouth, of tasting that salty, sweet slick from the source. A high pitched noise sounds in Jimin’s throat as his hips stutter forward at the feeling of your pussy tightening around him and you moan as he slips a little further into you, stretching you just a little more. Now though, the stretch makes you ache for more, the burn finally passed with the aid of the tentacles playing with your clit and nipples and slowly pulling your pleasure back to the surface. 

You really need him to be completely inside of you and when you dig your heels into his ass to try to get him to move, he seems hesitant. His tentacles, however, seem more than thrilled at the idea and more than happy to help you in your pursuit. The ones around your thighs tighten and pull you closer, until Jimin is buried to the hilt in the clutch of your pussy. The noise is filthy, the mess from his tentacle spilling out around his cock to smear on your thighs and drip down your ass. 

Jimin goes rigid when he’s fully inside you, eyes trained on where you’re joined. He seems transfixed by the sight of your cunt swallowing down every inch he has. Your whine has his head snapping up to look at your face, drinking in the way you’re moaning. The tentacle between your breasts slips a little further up, tip bumping your chin once before it’s shifting to your lips. Your tongue darts out, swiping through the salty fluid. Jimin shudders, hips flexing where they press into you and you let your mouth fall open for his tentacle to slip in. 

Your tongue swirls around the tip and it squirms, pushing in further than you expect and causing you to gag. It pulls itself from your mouth with a pop and you frown at it’s loss before shifting your gaze to Jimin, who seems to be glaring at the tentacle like it did something wrong. 

“Jimin?” When he looks at you, you give him an amused smile. “It’s okay. It just takes me a minute.”

His head tilts but the tentacle makes its way tentatively back to your mouth, hovering until you open again for it to slip back in. It goes a lot slower this time, keeping its thrusts shallow. You hum encouragingly, tongue pressing and massaging the underside as it moves and the tentacle slides a little deeper. You gag only slightly this time, much more prepared now, and after a few thrusts you grow used to the intrusion and it can slip just a little bit more down your throat. 

Jimin watches for a moment before groaning and then he’s pulling his cock out until just the tip remains before slamming back in. You moan around his tentacle, noise muffled as it delves further down your throat. It stays there for a moment and the lack of oxygen has your head start to spin. Your hands twitch where they’re still bound above your head, but before the real need for oxygen comes and you have to try to alert Jimin that you need to breathe, the tentacle is pulling out, switching to shallow thrusts while you get a quick break to breathe. The sudden rush of oxygen has you feeling nearly euphoric and you can only hope that the tentacle does it again. When you whine around it, it pushes back into your throat and the rest of the whine is muffled by it’s girth. 

Jimin’s fingers flex against your hips as he watches and feels how much of his tentacle slips into the waiting warmth of your mouth and with a moan he starts fucking into your pussy with a quick pace. Your hands grab at the tentacle binding you, needing something, anything, to ground yourself as Jimin fucks you senseless. You feel wholly overwhelmed at the way his cock fills you, the way the tentacles swirl around your clit, your nipples and breasts, at the way the one in your mouth begins to stiffen up. 

The tentacles shift on your breasts, kneading the soft flesh once again before pinching at your nipples. You moan around the tentacle in your mouth and it gives a shudder before flooding your mouth and throat. You choke slightly, jerking your head slightly at the sheer volume being released into your mouth, far more than you can handle. Spit and cum drip from the corners of your mouth as you struggle to swallow and the tentacle pulls itself from your mouth before it's finished, painting the lower half of your face even more in its silvery essence. Jimin’s eyes gleam at the sight, seeming to become even more frantic with his thrusts. 

“J-jimin…” You whine, voice rough from use. You’re not entirely sure what you’d finish that statement with.

“You are doing so well.” He coos and the praise has your mind going fuzzy. “You look so pretty like this.”

He reaches up, sliding a hand through the mess on your cheeks before letting his hand drag the mess back down your body, leaving a shiny trail down your throat, in the valley between your breasts and across your stomach. He slams in particularly hard and you cry out, voice echoing across the empty beach and ocean, much too loud but you no longer care.

Jimin glows golden, the light haloing him and your fucked out mind is sluggish to make sense of the sudden color change. Then you remember why you were out here to begin with and you make the connection just as the resounding boom of the firework follows just after the shower of color. The fireworks show must be finally starting because the next second Jimin is bathed in blue, then pink.

But as quick as your attention was taken by the colorful shadows splashed across Jimin’s beautiful face, it’s taken back as he shifts suddenly, hands leaving your hips to push your thighs together as he continues to fuck you. Your calves come to rest on one shoulder and Jimin uses the new position to fuck you even harder. 

Something slick drags along the crease where your thighs are pressed together and a second later a tentacle is pushing into the tight space. Your skin tingles where it presses into your skin and with every thrust it makes through the tight press of your thighs, it bumps the tentacles on your clit. Jimin presses a kiss to your leg and you feel the breath leave him as his tentacle speeds up and he hisses.

The sensations are nearly overwhelming, to the point that you almost miss the new slim tentacle kneading the flesh of your ass. It delivers a pinch to the skin that leaves you gasping and you’re much more aware of it as it runs along the seam of your ass. You squirm, or at least attempt to, because between the tentacles restraining you and Jimin’s firm grip on your thighs, you’re left nearly immobile as you get fucked. The tentacle slips a little further up, gathering some slick before it’s dipping back down to prod at the tight ring of muscle of your hole. 

You shudder and if you could move, you’d press down onto the tentacle, force it to fill you because you need it as much as you need Jimin’s cock in you. “Fuck, please, don’t tease…”

Jimin’s face is set in concentration and you don’t think he heard you, except a second later the tentacle breaches your ass. You moan, glad that it was a smaller one to start. It thrusts tentatively, growing bolder as your noises raise in pitch and then a second slim tentacle is joining, slipping past the tight ring of muscle to thrust in counterpoint to the first. 

Jimin’s thrusts slow, his head tilting back as he pants. He looks like a sculpture, so beautiful that it aches a little. Something that people should look at and marvel over. A moan slips past his lips as the tentacles in your ass speed up a little, taking some time to also shift apart and spread you open even more. 

“You… are endless…” Jimin breaths out. It sounds reverent. 

The tentacles slip from you and you have no time to mourn the loss before they’re being replaced by one of the thicker tentacles. The stretch hurts a little, but with so many other things happening to your body at the same time, you’re quickly distracted from the ache. The tentacle stills anyway, allowing you time to adjust to its thick girth. 

“You are so full of surprises.” He says, head dropping forward once more to let his gaze rake over your shuddering figure.

The tentacle in your ass thrusts in response to Jimin’s words and when you don’t indicate any pain, both pull out and thrust roughly back in. The tentacle between your thighs and in your ass thrust opposite Jimin, keeping you full and stimulated when Jimin pulls out. 

“Please… Jimin please, fill me up, you said you would…” You feel slightly delirious with need, every thrust of his tentacle adds extra pressure to your clit and you feel so close to cumming, teetering on the edge. 

Jimin gives you no verbal response, only that of him pressing your thighs together a little harder. A few more thrusts of the tentacle between your thighs has you clamping down on Jimin’s cock and the one in your ass as you cum, body shuddering as the tentacles and Jimin continue to thrust. You squeeze your eyes shut, vision nearly whiting out entirely as your orgasm slams into you. The tentacle between your thighs lasts only a handful more thrusts before its stiffening and releasing, splattering your chest, belly, and thighs in the silver cum. It gives a few weak final spurts before slipping back through your thighs as Jimin parts them once more. 

His cock twitches as his gaze falls over you messy form, the normally silvery liquid lighting up in splashes of color with every new explosion that happens above you both. He’s never seen a more beautiful sight. One of his hands lands on your thigh as the other bats his tentacles away from your clit, an action that you're grateful for for only a moment because he quickly replaces them with his fingers. You arch and cry out, jerking your hands with enough force that you seem to startle the binding tentacle and it releases you. Your hands wrap around his wrist, tugging futilely at it to get him to let up. 

You moan his name desperately, trying to squirm away from the sensation as his tentacles keep you held close as he continues to fuck you through your overstimulation. 

“Can you do that for me one more time? You feel so good when you do that, sweet.”

You whimper. You want to say no, that it hurts a little and that you really don’t think you’re capable of another orgasm. But the pout he wears stops you and you find yourself nodding without even thinking about how you’re going to get past the too much feeling currently overwhelming your body. 

Jimin gives you another feral grin, eyes roving over your figure as his fingers work quick circles around your clit. For no experience with a human, he’s an incredibly fast learner. He seems to know your body better than your ex had and the two of you had been together for almost 2 years. 

The tentacles on your breasts move to collect some of the slick covering you, smearing it around your nipples as the pinch and play with them, the slick adding a new layer of feeling to the actions. 

“Come on, sweet.” Jimin purrs as his cock seems to swell ever more and the tentacle in your ass starts to stiffen. 

Another rough thrust and a few twists of his fingers and you’re cumming again with a cry of his name. Your pussy and ass convulses around him and Jimin lets out a series of clicks and chirps as he finally cums, flooding your pussy and ass with more silvery slick. There seems to be a never ending stream from his cock and after a few moments, pressure on your lower stomach makes you look down, groaning at the sight of your slightly distended belly.

Jimin makes a contented noise, rubbing gently over the swell. “You would look so beautiful swollen with my children.”

His cock gives another twitch and a feeble last spurt of cum and Jimin and his tentacles seem to deflate. His chin presses to his chest as he takes in slow, deep breaths. The tentacles all slowly slip from your body and you mourn the slight warmth you lose. Another few moments pass and then Jimin is gingerly pulling his cock from your abuse pussy and gazing over your whole body with almost reverence. 

You feel too exhausted to do much more, but you can feel his cum dripping from you, forming a puddle beneath your ass. At least you're next to the ocean for easy clean up. If you had the energy to do that. Maybe in 5 minutes… Or an hour. You can’t even feel your legs right now. You’re pretty sure you’d just drown.

Jimin stretches out beside you, arm coming to wrap around your middle, seemingly unbothered by the fact that it lands in a mess. You blearily realize that his tentacles seem much smaller now too. His head tilts and you realize that he’s watching the fireworks again. Like he didn’t just fuck you within an inch of your life and leave you ruined for anyone who comes after him. 

You watch in silence for a while, endeared by Jimin’s ohs and ahs as he discovers new types of fireworks, the different shapes and effects that can happen. 

“Jimin.” You call softly. His nose brushes your shoulder in response. “Will… Nevermind. It’s stupid.”

Jimin pushes himself up enough so that he can look down at you, frown marring his pretty face. “What is it?”

You fidget, suddenly hating that you’re naked and still covered in him. You glance over at the water.

“Do you wish to go in, sweet?”

It’s an easy out and you don’t feel strong enough to ask the real question yet, so you give him a simple nod. He grins, scooping you up and gracefully sliding you both into the water, arm wrapped tight around your middle to keep you afloat. 

Colors flash around you as you stare into Jimin’s eyes, every color reflected there as well. Before you can second guess yourself, you lean forward and press a kiss to his lips. He lets out a surprised noise and then giggles when you pull away. 

“Do you wish to go again?”

Embarrassment fills you and you shake your head. “No. Um…” You take a deep breath. You can do this. “Will I see you again?”

Jimin’s face is unreadable for a painful stretch of time, though you’re sure it’s only a few seconds before he’s grinning. “I find myself quite taken by humans. I could certainly use a guide.”

You grin back, pecking him again. “First lesson, when humans like someone and want to spend time with them and go on dates, they give them kisses.”

He hums, giving you a kiss of his own, just a little deeper than yours. “I think I quite like kisses.” Then he grins and it’s full of mischief. “I think fireworks are my favorite though.”

You snort, prodding him with a finger. “You sure it’s the fireworks you like?”

He makes a thoughtful noise before nodding. “They make you luminous, sweet.”

[daydreaming-in-letters]

School Prize Night

(A Good night, Mr Cavill Sequel)

Part 1 - Through my eyes

07/07/2021

Pairing: teacher!Henry Cavill x plus-size teacher!reader (3rd person)

Word Count: 2,531

Warnings: rpf, body issues, self-loathing, angst, sexual innuendos, comforting, fluff, Henry being the sweetest boyfriend a (plus-size) girl could ask for

Summary: It's School Prize Night at Miss Y/L/N and Mr Cavill's school. But as she is getting ready for the event, she finds it impossible to accept her reflection in the mirror.

A/N: As I already feared, this dream of a man simply refuses to leave my thoughts. And so I used the first day of the summer holidays to come up with a four part sequel to Good night, Mr Cavill. So here is the first part. I'm afraid it has become a little angsty, but I promise to make it up to you with a lot of teasing and passion in the other parts.

Picture found on Pinterest

If you like my story, you are very welcome to like, comment or reblog. Please don’t copy, repost or share my work on other platforms.

For a long time she had been wondering what to say whenever someone asked her what her special talent was. Now she knew, pinching her paunch harshly between her fingers until it formed a prominent, round bulge. Self-loathing. That’s what she was good at. A profession she had perfected over the last years.

And as if to prove her point, half the contents of her wardrobe lay scattered around her feet, mocking her with all their colourful beauty that magically turned into hideous abominations as soon as they covered her form. If she didn’t know any better, she would let herself believe that she was somehow cursed—a gorgeous princess trapped inside the body of a manatee. But sadly it wasn’t that simple and instead of an evil witch she could only blame herself for the reflection she saw in the mirror.

Giving herself another once over, she actually considered covering her eyes to spare herself the view, when thankfully her eyes seemed to have mercy on her tortured soul and salty tears began to blur her vision. Too late, as she noticed. The gears of self-hate had already started to turn and once they were in motion, nothing could stop them, pulling her deeper and deeper into the darkness.

She hardly realised that her whole body was trembling by now, her knees finally giving out underneath the weight of the world that pressed down upon her shoulders, making her sink onto the plush carpet with a heartbroken sob while the world around her fell away.

“Darling?” The familiar voice came from somewhere down the hallway, but she couldn’t hear it in the state she was in. “Do you have any idea how to tie a decent Windsor knot? I’ve watched this stupid video about a million times by now and I just can’t seem to—“

His heart almost stopped beating as he stepped into the bedroom, his eyes immediately falling onto the pitiful picture of misery that used to be his girlfriend, crumbled into a tight package in front of the mirror.

“Y/N?” But instead of an answer there just came another soul shaking sob from the huddled creature and he didn’t waste another second to get over to her. “Whatever is the matter, love?” His voice was warm and soothing as he squatted down beside her, but it was still not enough to break through to her. Desperate to find a clue as to what might have caused her distress, he took in the setting and when his eyes finally landed on the pile of clothes that surrounded her devastated form, he suddenly understood.

With a sigh he sat down beside her, wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug before he pulled her onto his lap. “Sh, darling. Don’t cry,” he cooed, rocking her in his arms like a child. Slowly his hand drifted across her hair, as if his touch could just stroke her pain away, his lips tenderly pressing down on the crown of her head, before his cheek finally came to rest there.

“Well, what else am I supposed to do,” she croaked hoarsely, and the only thing that pained him more than the agony in her voice were her next words, “considering that you will leave me someday soon.”

He knew that it was only her insecurity speaking and yet he felt a bit slighted that she still couldn’t fully believe his feelings for her were nothing but true.

“Now why would I do that?” he muttered into her hair as calmly as he could, “I love you, Y/N, and as long as you don’t want me to, I’m not going anywhere.”

Something about his words must have finally gotten through to her as he could feel the sobs die away bit by bit and he was almost positive that he would find a small smile on her face when she wriggled out of his embrace, but to his surprise he was met with a pair of defiant eyes.

“How can you be so sure of that? It’s only been three months, Hen. That’s probably just the hormones talking, and once they’re back to their normal levels, you’ll finally see the real me. And I can’t blame you if you want to run as soon as you realise what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

“Hey!” he barked, his hands clutching her face in a firm grip to make her look at him. “You know how much I hate when you talk about yourself like that.”

“Yeah, well, I guess it’s easier to love yourself when one looks like you,” she spat and he regretted his harsh words instantly as he saw the tears that were threatening to fall again.

“Oh, no, darling. No, no, no. This is not about me and my body image, it’s about you.” He sighed again, his jaw clenching dangerously and he needed to close his eyes for a second to force his anger back down to its source. “I don’t know if you’ll ever be able to see yourself the way I do, maybe not, but that doesn’t give you the right to question the way I feel for you. You see, just because it’s hard for you to love yourself, doesn’t mean it’s hard for me as well.”

And there they were, the tears that had been threatening to fall again, streaming down her cheeks freely now. “I’m so sorry, Hen. I should never have—“

“You bloody well shouldn’t have,” he said sternly, but then his eyes softened like they always did whenever he looked at her and he pulled her closer to press his lips to her forehead in a symbol of forgiveness.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, her head fell down onto his shoulder and she nuzzled his warm skin affectionately. “Ugh, I’m such a mess,” she mumbled, and he could feel her lips move against his skin.

“No, you���re not, darling. Like so many, you’ve been traumatised by an ideal created by the media and greedy companies, telling you to constantly chase after their standard of beauty instead of focusing on those things that truly matter.”

For a moment, a deafening silence settled between them, but he knew she simply needed a while to think about his words. And just when he could feel the uneasiness of doubt crawl from the pit of his stomach, she sighed, a deep sound of realisation that soothed his worry.

“I guess you’re right,” her muffled voice came to his ears from the crook of his neck. “You always are. Perfect idiot.”

Her little remark coaxed an amused chuckle from his chest and he could feel her body tremble in his arms from the vibration. But when his face fell upon their reflection in the mirror, the short moment of lightness suddenly died away and he wished with all his heart that just once he could give her his eyes before he would lift her around her body so she could feel what he felt whenever he looked at her. Grasp the reason why he loved her so much and why he never wanted to look at anyone else for the rest of his days. If only—

Silently he signalled it was time for them to get up and as soon as he stood, he offered her his hand and pulled her up against his chest. Colliding softly with his firm pecs, she could feel his lips brush against her ear, his deep voice causing a shiver to run across her skin.

“Do you trust me?” he whispered, his hands drifting over the small of her back and down to her full cheeks, squeezing them reassuringly.

“Of course I do.”

“Then close your eyes.”

And so she did, without hesitation. Slowly she could feel his hands glide up her body again, stopping at her waist when he ordered, “Now turn around.”

His strong hands guided her as she carefully obeyed his wish again and she could feel his hot palms come to rest on her stomach, her back securely leant against his chest.

“Hold out your hands, sweetheart, palms facing upwards,” he demanded, and she wasn’t sure what exactly caused the heat to pulse through her nether regions, his hot breath that fanned across her shoulder, the authority in his voice, or the enticing combination of both. She had no idea what he was up to, but she couldn’t help the slight pang she felt when his hands suddenly left her body. He must have picked up on the little twitch of her lips before she could stop herself from pouting, judging from the triumphant chuckle that made his chest quake. Cocksure bastard.

But then she could feel his touch again, his fingers gently gliding along her forearm until his hands pushed underneath hers.

“Let me show you something, darling.” And as if the dark timbre of his voice would actually leave her a choice but to let him take over from here, his lips ghosted across the sensitive spot of her neck to ensure her compliance.

She was still trying to concentrate again when she felt something squishy and warm underneath her fingertips and it actually took her a second to realise that he had brought their joined hands to her belly. On reflex, she tried to pull away, but his grip on her tightened to hold her back.

“No,” he growled, his lips close to her ear again. “I want you to feel yourself, to try and see yourself through my eyes. Just a few minutes, that’s all I ask.” But still he didn’t proceed until he could feel her resistance melt away. “Can you feel how soft your belly is? So velvety smooth, it’s practically inviting you to touch it, to caress it, to relish in its malleability. Mmmh, so wonderfully soft,” he moaned his appreciation, making her insides tingle pleasantly.

“And here, can you feel this?” He guided her hands towards her hips, pressing her fingertips into the supple flesh. Slowly moving back and forth, she could make out the small ripples he had probably wanted her to notice. “I know you hate your stretch marks, but whoever decided to call them that probably had no idea what they truly are.” He made a short pause to emphasise his next words. “They’re tiger stripes. And you earned them all on your way to becoming the strong tigress you are. So be proud of them.”

She had wanted to protest when his lips pressed lovingly to her temple, a gesture that always made her soft for him, and her will to speak up against his sugarcoating of her flaws fizzled out.

“Mmmmmh,” he sighed again, as he lead her hands to her rear, “now let’s come to one of my favourites.” Slowly he made her hands move in circles across her behind, as if this was necessary to help her visualise the incredible magnitude of her butt. And to top it all off, the absence of her visual sense seemed to further enhance the depths of the dips and dents that coated its surface.

“It’s not only the luxurious lushness of your behind that compels me to run my hands along it as often as I can and squeeze it tightly. No.” He growled lowly again, his teeth sinking into her shoulder as he made her fingers dig into her cheeks and this time she found it impossible to hold back a moan. “I wish you could see the way it jiggles and quivers with every thrust of my hips when I take you from behind. It’s magnificent.”

“Oh God, Henry,” she mewled when she could feel the treacherous wetness pool between her legs, soaking her panties in an instant. She wanted to pull away again, but this time to spin around and press her body against his while her lips devoured his filthy mouth before it could drive her completely insane with need. And yet again, Henry was stronger, securing her in her current position for just a little longer.

“I see you’re starting to get the point of this whole exercise. Good for you, darling.”

“Henry, please,” his teasing made her whine, as it always did, and she almost missed how he hooked her fingers underneath the straps of her bra to peel away the obstructive lace.

“Sh, don’t fuss. This is the best part, I promise.”

And with that he closed her hands around her voluptuous breasts, massaging them tenderly. “Did I promise too much? This really is the good stuff, isn’t it? I don’t think I’ve ever held anything as fluffy as these two delights in my hands. I still remember the way they moved to the rhythm of our lovemaking that first night. So enchanting. But you know what is even better?” he asked, his head dipping down to nuzzle her neck yearningly. “To rest my head upon your chest after we both came undone. I love to be embedded by this softness while I can listen to your heartbeat. There is something so utterly bewitching about witnessing how it slowly calms down after I made you touch the sky.”

Without thinking twice her eyes flew open, just in time to catch a glimpse of all the affection his heart held for her as it reflected so openly in his blue eyes.

“Oh Hen!” And finally he didn’t hold her back when she tried to spin around, cupping his stubbly cheeks gently in her hands. “I love you so much.”

And without giving him the chance to answer, her lips found his, moving with them until she didn’t know anymore where she ended and he began. Her head still spinning slightly, she broke away, their heavy pants the only noise that filled the silence for a while.

“And I love you.” A beaming smile curled his lips, passing on to hers while it slowly set her on fire. “Even the parts you despise. Maybe I love them the most. And I will not stop loving them for the both of us until you can love them too.”

She didn’t know what she could have possibly replied to that. He was right, it was still a long way to go. There would always be difficult times. After all, self-love wasn’t a permanent state she would be in for good once it was reached. She rather saw it as a concept, an idea she would possibly never reach in her life, but at least she could count on him to be there and help her see through his eyes whenever she was struggling.

“Now, can I make a suggestion regarding your outfit?” he derailed her train of thought. “Take the white summer dress with the pink peonies I love so much. You know how great your ass looks in that, don’t you?” He smirked while, once again, his fingers dug into her behind.

“So you keep telling me, Hen.”

“Because it’s true.” His lips briefly brushed over the tip of her nose. “And it will remind me all night long of all the things I’m going to do to you as soon as we get back here.”

Part 2

***

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[eve6262]

rhaast senses the rain

Rainy days are bitter and cold.

Rhaast can vaguely feel the air, knows the weather by the vague sensation and the time of day by counting the ticks of a clock. Sometimes he’ll miscount by an hour or seven, and he’ll be asleep when Kayne picks him up. Sometimes the air will be chilly but when he asks why Kayn is wearing no coat on such a cold evening the response will be “it’s the middle of summer, what are you talking about?”

He always knows when it’s rainy, though. Kayn will pick him up, and he’ll say “it’s going to rain.” At first Kayn never believed him, thought he was trying to embarass him. Yet days upon months in each other’s presence and the tone became clear; jabs are obvious and tricks laid bare, but raw emotions are taken seriously before promptly left to fester in silence.

Or, in this case, he takes a coat with him.

The acolytes that pass him look at him weird for it- it’s sunny, why would it rain? But Rhaast tastes bitter on his tongue and shivers despite his lack of a body and knows it’s going to rain.

He’s right. Not an hour later the sky has darkened; in two it’s a light drizzle. By then they’ve found their target, and Kayn has opted not to put on the coat in favor of letting the rain hit him with as little sound as possible. “I’ll put it on when we’re finished,” he thought very loudly in the darkin’s direction, and moves for the kill.

It’s an easy target. Some Ionian diplomat who was very adamant for appeasment of Noxian authorities by giving them an inch. Rhaast knows plenty about that- get an inch, take a mile, and then a thousand more until there’s either nothing left or you’ve been locked away in a scythe and cursed to be wielded by a man with an ego and annoyingly pretty long hair.

He puts on the coat after the kill, as he said. It pitter-patters against his coat. Rhaast counts them, then loses count, then starts again.

He’s at somewhere in the thousands when they take a break in a little cave. There’s a commotion nearby, one they’d rather avoid, and the air has been thick with tension today despite the lack of real conversation, so Kayn turned into it without a word and Rhaast had no comment.

“What is it with you?,” the man finally asks. Rhaast doesn’t really have a response.

“What are you even talking about,” he knows. He knows he’s been awfully distant, not poking and prodding like he usually does, and he came up with one initial reason he can’t tell Kayn and another he also can’t tell him, so what’s he to do?

“You’re so...You don’t speak. You used to so often.”

“Getting lonely?” The bite is hard to manage, when all he can feel is it’s going to rain today.

“Seriously, is something wrong?”

Is something wrong. He’d laugh if it wouldn’t sound to bitter and obivous.

The initial reason he came up with was that, despite what Kayn might know, he’s largely impenetrable. Even the occasional prick with the needle won’t tear down his defenses nearly enough to make an actual crack, and even if it does it’s repair within the week. It’s simply pointless, he reasoned, because he was better off waiting for a moment of true vulnerability or weakeness and then striking, like a viper slithering around out of sight until the prey goes to sleep.

“Well?”

“You won’t believe me if I say no.”

“Obviously. It was a rhetorical question.”

“And? The answer is no either way.”

“That’s a lie and you know it, Rhaast.”

“You’ve known me to say anything else?”

“Sometimes. When you’re feeling...”

The problem with that is that, when you’re attempting to lay low and hide until the prey strikes, you end up watching them for hours on end. And when you have nothing else to do- no underbrush to concentrate on slithering through or worms poking at your belly scales- you start to really fixate on whatever it is you can see.

“Cute. You think I care about you.”

“What? No, never. Seriously, what is it with you?”

And besides, that plan would’ve never worked. He’d already done it for so long- if Rhaast tried when he was vulnerable he’d just get another wall, right? There wouldn’t be much of a point. It’s best to stay with the status quo, and pretend he’s still able to take the mind of a man he’s been watching like a viper- no, like a hawk- no, like-

Like a very lonely darkin sat in a void.

“Fine. If you won’t tell me, we’re leaving.”

“I didn’t tell you to stop.”

“I didn’t say it was for you.”

“What, you wanted to figure out what was wrong with me for your sake?”

“Well, yes.”

Eventually, if you stare at anything for long enough, you begin to notice the subtle details. It starts with the physical, and you see- the muscles, toned but not bulging to the point of freakishness, hair draping over him like the shadows themselves meant to cloak him (and how soft it must feel), the glint in his eyes when something goes well or when Zed says something vaguely resembling a compliment.

“How rude.”

“It’s for both of our sakes, idiot. What do you think happens if Zed finds out you’re being weak and I haven’t overtaken you?”

“He abandons you as his favorite little puppet?”

So you think, okay, he’s pretty, I’ll give him that, but that doesn’t mean anything. And then you start noticing the slight accent he has, and the way he does his daily routine in a such a meticulous way that disturbing it in anyway gets an annoyed huff that makes you enticed to hear more, and more than his haughty laugh you think you love the way he laughs when you tell a proper joke once, and he giggles.

Get an inch, take a mile, and then take until there’s nothing left, but what were you taking again?

And then you go oh, love? And then you try to ignore it, try to explain it away as lying in wait, but you see, all you want to do is see that terrible scowl replaced with a pretty smile and a laugh that must sound so very boring to someone else, maybe even annoying, but to you it’s like fairy bells on the wind or maybe the taste of blood on your scythe because it is very, very enjoyable, almost more so than having a body.

When you lose something so wholly you don’t even remember what it was like, you don’t really miss it anymore. Maybe you do rationally, but emotionally?

The void isn’t so bad. It has its perks. Its perks are being able to concentrate on the way his hair flies in the wind and the comments he makes regarding the other acolytes and being able to share comments no one else can hear without having to whisper in his ear.

It means he won’t run away from you. That he’ll grab you whenever he has a mission, and sometimes when he doesn’t and wants to practice (is just feeling lonely). And all those days ago you’d chastise him, make fun of him, joke around and sneer, but now when you realize what’s happening you try to be a good companion in good spirits, teasing but never jabbing, joking but never stabbing.

And then you wonder, oh, wait, what did he say just then?

---

we were playing league right. and then I mention the inherent homoeroticism of kayn and rhaast and this dude goes "I don't know what you're talking about."

he's bi too, how do you not see?????

~Eve6262

[eggluttony]

I had some ridiculously horny thoughts the last time I was doing some daydreaming in a car ride and I'm surprised I haven't talked about it here yet since I did write a fetish fic of Eggman in a car years ago but I haven't finished it entirely to edit and post it.

anyway um Eggman getting into situations where he has to get into a normal sized car are great. it's hard for him to get inside as it wasn't designed with such a large man in mind but he's also much too fat for it. his fat ass is way too plump and wide for the seat and his big round belly that greatly proceeds him has no room between the seat and wheel. it's a tight squeeze and he's embarrassed when all his fat is squished up in there and fears he might get stuck. he has to accept that the seat is barely containing his ass and some of the fat of it is spilling off the sides and he's squished up against the door. but he can at least give his big belly some room by adjusting the seat and rolling it back.

that's not the only problem he has though, the normal sized seat belt also can't fit over his fat belly, it's cute to see his absolutely pathetic attempt at fumbling with it to try to force it together, squishing it into his fat and trying to suck in to no avail, it's not even close to reaching. he gets super flustered and grumpy and blushes hard and Orbot and Cubot better not dare to make any comments! he's so embarrassed when he has to walk into a store off the road nearby and buy an extender. of course everyone knows exactly who's going to be using it with the sight of his huge fat belly and his perhaps slightly shameful demeanor and look on his face as he places it on the counter.

but get this, he also dumps a big basket full of sandwiches, chips, candy, chocolate, cookies, and soda on there that he couldn't resist when he made the mistake off letting his eyes wonder and browse the snack isles. 🥴 plus he tells himself he deserves it after the embarrassment, the annoying antics he has to put up with when Orbot and Cubot in there with him, and the way he can't stand hunger pains and wouldn't be able to focus while driving. he's happily and greedily munching non-stop and eventually finishes it all during the hours long ride, his belly swelling up heavier and fuller with every big swallow of food and all the soda he chugs, making him nice and burpy.

the seat belt slowly gets tighter again even with the extender with all that he's eating. the belt is still squishing into his beautiful soft fat so the pudge is bulging and spilling over it and it all jiggles tons like soft wobbly jelly the whole time they're driving along and especially over bumps. even better if he's wearing more casual clothes like a tank top, so his big soft tits jiggle too and the top rides up his fat gut. 😍 sometimes he feels the contents of his full stomach slosh with some jolts of the car and has to be careful and gentle so he doesn't start feeling sick. but it doesn't stop him from mindlessly inviting more food and soda down his greedy gullet! he just can't help himself, as long as there's still food and drink beside him, he'll keep reaching for it.

even after he's finished most of the snacks and soda and his belly is certainly full enough and a bit bloated, when the sun goes down he still he still needs a real proper dinner! but what he really means is a trip to McDonald's, which Orbot certainly doesn't approve of but Cubot celebrates despite not being able to eat. any attempts Orbot makes to reason with him or suggest healthier places are of course ignored, there's no way he can win. Eggman always gets overenthusiastic and too excited and orders an appallingly large amount. the person that hands him all the food is certainly alarmed and concerned when they see he's the only person in the car that can eat and it's no surprise why he's so huge. he's already looking especially big with quite a lot of snacks, candy, and soda in his belly.

when he drives off with all of it he's so excited that he needs to find a good quiet and private place to stop and eat. he quickly orders Orbot and Cubot to get out the car and just mess around for a while so he can get some peace to eat. when they leave he finally acknowledges that he ordered way too much without thinking but now he has to make sure it all ends up inside his stomach, there's no way he is going to waste it! and so when he knows there are no eyes on him, he can't hold back from totally pigging out, shoving burgers, fries, and chicken nuggets down his throat and drinking from his multiple cups of cola to wash it down, so he doesn't get bad ingestion from how fast he's forcing it all in.

he eats and eats the huge amount of food, unwrapping multiple burgers, finishing off multiple boxes of fries, and a whole big box of nuggets. when he miraculously finishes all of that he really feels like he's about to burst but he forces down the big cookie, muffin, and mcflurry for dessert too because it's so good. and even after that, he guzzles down all the soda that's left until he can throw all the entirely empty packaging onto the floor for his robots to clean up later. there's definitely no way he could lean forward to pick it up now with an immensely full gut sitting heavy between hus spreading legs.

his stomach is expanded and bulging full to the max after his heavy indulgence, he really feels he might pop. a huge gross belch escapes him and he pants heavily when he lets himself lean back and relax in the seat. it's not his fault when his belly is so hugely bloated and full of so much food and bubbly soda- or maybe it is because he's the one that forced it all in! he slaps his huge fat belly that makes a loud thud and won't budge because it's so stuffed. he can barely breathe or move from how full he is with his shirt riding up his fat full belly, empty food packaging everywhere, and a stomach ache that hurts so good.

even though he's a massive glutton, when he thinks about how much he ate and drank even after being rather full of all those snacks and sodas, he manges to surprise himself. he doesn't know what came over him, why it was like he couldn't control himself as he forced it all down. but he was determined and it was a good relief from the stress of dealing with Orbot and Cubot's bullshit while on the road in an average vehicle when he'd rather be off it in his Egg Mobile, airship, or at least a car actually made for him and not average people. his painfully overfed gut is the feeling of total pleasure and satisfaction to him after all that.

when Orbot and Cubot get back into the car, the sight is appalling to Orbot with the big mess of all the food and drink packaging empty and tossed while his huge stuffed belly is immensely full. he's clutching and rubbing it while groaning and moaning, it grumbles loudly and he can't stop belching so the robots have to bear it. he can't hold back from muttering about how unbelievably stuffed and bloated he is, how he ate way too much and feels like he's about to burst. but it all tasted so good and now feels so good packed into his belly and it really turns him on.

he definitely can't do his seat belt back up after that even with the extender because the pressure of it straining and digging into his stuffed belly would hurt, he can't move to sit forward at the wheel with it in the way, and it couldn't handle any car movement without getting upset. so he has to let himself relax and sleep right there for the night, not even being able to complain about now having a lot of room in there when he's just so full and sleepy that the food coma takes him into a deep heavy sleep. 💜