#it’s not my fault they serve cunt!!!

[swedenis-h]

The way you draw cunty bisexual men is unmatched (compliment btw)

I have been going absolutely crazy over (compliment btw) for the past few days, THANK YOU BAHAH 😭😭😭

[isdalinarhot]

thinking about the time the spotify dj made me listen to a bunch of drag queen songs presumably because of the 2 weeks last winter where i would listen to electra heart era marina and kim petras songs on loop vividly imagining sadeas fancams

[bboricha]

y...yes, sir! anything you say, sir! || bori's 1k special - part 1

➳ pairings: al haitham, ayato, baizhu, childe, cyno (separate) x subordinate afab!reader ➳ part 2 with diluc, heizou, tighnari, venti, and zhongli coming soon! ➳ cw: not proofread, a bit of power play (duh... they're your boss), oral (m and f!receiving), dry humping (on a shoe lol and mattress), exhibitionism, deep throating, swallowing, face fucking, dumbification, mentions of impregnation (ayato), marking, mentions of tying up hands, overstimulation, unprotected, aphrodisiac (baizhu), kinda dubcon, fingering, you're a cicin mage in childe's blurb, mention of marriage in ayato's, lmk if i've missed any...!

➳ synopsis: what would happen to you as their subordinate...?

al haitham x secretary afab!reader

you’ve met al haitham several times before… the whole mess all the sages have gotten themselves into. it was only natural, being the grand sage’s secretary and all, you would often deliver documents and knowledge capsules between the two of them. you never really thought too much of the man and neither did he think anything of you. sure, he was, well, younger than some of your colleagues, a vision holder, and… undeniably attractive. 

maybe that’s why you’ve found yourself in this position. underneath the grand sage’s desk with a mouthful of the acting grand sage’s dick. you cannot believe the amount of control this man has talking to a matra with a straight face and unwavering voice despite being balls deep into your throat. not to mention, he keeps fucking his shoe against your clothed cunt and you’re absolutely sure that both his shoe and your panties are drenched at this point. you moan on his cock, the vibrations seemingly doing something for him as you hear his voice audibly hitch and his hand fly immediately for your hair, tugging at it as if to warn you.

it wasn’t your fault, it really wasn’t. if he would just stop using his shoe on you, order the matra to leave, and finally fuck you on his desk, you both wouldn’t be in this predicament. you’re almost led to believe that maybe he likes the idea of being caught, but then it dawns on you that he just actually likes seeing you anxious. this asshole only likes seeing you in this predicament, because he couldn’t care less about what others think about him. caution to the wind, you guess, and gulp down another whine, swallowing and stretching your throat out to make room for him even deeper as he digs the tip of his stiff sole against your clit. 

you’re so close and you can feel that al haitham is too. with the way his dick is twitching in your mouth, you decide to speed up your ministrations and apparently so has al haitham. you tune in a bit, noticing that their conversation is about to end as he hits a certain spot, noticing you falter and begins to abuse it. it’s becoming harder and harder to stay quiet with how his shoe works itself so well against your cunt, your slick aiding in the feeling. you’re about to pull out to cover your mouth when you hear the door click shut as al haitham pushes your head, your nose hitting his abdomen with ropes of his cum sticking to your throat. you’re shaking at the feeling—at the fact that him using you like a fucking sleeve made that coil snap and you spill your essence all over his shoe.

he yanks you up from your knees before the cogs in your brain could generate another thought, forcing your mouth open by pushing down your tongue with his thumb, making sure you’ve swallowed every last drop.

“you’re a competent secretary, by the way. i can see why you were kept around—your services are much needed everyday in my office.”

kamisato ayato x retainer afab!reader

you grew up with the kamisatos, your family serving them as their retainers. your parents served the former heads while you were taught from a young age to serve their heirs. when the former kamisato heads had passed, your parents began to serve ayato, until he had dismissed them—told them they should retire and enjoy themselves—something he had wished his parents had the chance to do as well. and so you inevitably became his personal retainer again. not that you were complaining, no, but it was different from when the two of you were children. things like helping him bathe, get dressed, and aiding him at the crack of dawn—it just wasn’t the same anymore.

especially considering that tending to his nightly duties included him being balls deep inside of you. face down, ass up, your kimono disheveled and almost in tatters, ayato muttering something about how he’ll buy you a new one, one that he’ll personally pick out—to him, it’ll be a sign of ownership. he kept his focus on plowing into you, gripping your hips so hard every night that you’re afraid you might find indents of his fingers one day, your insides already having molded to the shape of his dick.

you’re biting his sheets, trying so hard to not make a noise when he pulls out, maneuvering you over onto your back. he slips a thumb into your mouth as you suckle on it, much to his enjoyment, as he tells you to not muffle yourself. he pushes his length back inside, bottoming out when he caresses his hand over the bulge, admiring the sight and drags his hand back to your hips (where it belongs) and begins thrusting yet once again. you’re full on moaning now, relishing in the way ayato hits every place that makes your eyes roll back with his fingers playing with your clit, making the coil in your stomach tighter and tighter with every thrust.

when your orgasm hits, your hands fly to your face in embarrassment, blocking out any sounds leaving your mouth and covering yourself so ayato doesn’t see what a blushing mess you are. he tsks to himself, one that you can hear, but quickly throws whatever thought he had away, replacing it with the idea that he has all night to rid of those hands that’s hiding your beauty from him. perhaps maybe with your obi, or maybe a bright, red rope? how about both? what other sounds will he be able to hear tonight, what cries will he be able to coax out of you, he wonders, melodies that he can’t wait to hear.

his cock twitches inside of you at his own imagination. he leans down, his body almost flush against yours as he kisses your temple, placing a hand on the top of your head as his thrusts suddenly increase in speed, signaling him close to release. you’re whining at the overwhelming sensation, biting into his shoulder to help muffle your moans when ayato stills, pushing himself as deep as he can reach as he cums inside, his warmth filling you up.

“if this sticks, maybe this will give you a reason to finally marry me.”

baizhu x assistant afab!reader

you’ve been baizhu’s helper since he saved your life a few years ago. he had found you battered up and injured when he was visiting qingce village. it was only after he took you back to bubu pharmacy to take care of you, a complete stranger, were you able to recover. you didn’t know how else to pay him back, nor did you really have anywhere else better to go, so you asked for him to take you in, and he obliged, greatly appreciating the help. he especially appreciates your help in aiding him develop a new medicine.

one that involves his hand in your underwear. he coated the “medicine” on his tips of his fingers before shoving it down your pants, caressing it against your clit, massaging the substance in your insides. he pushes a finger to your entrance slowly, coaxing it in as it begins to make you tingle, your body heating up. you’re starting to get needy, grabbing at baizhu’s wrist when he keeps going agonizingly slow, and to your surprise, he lightly pushes your hand off. he says you have to be patient, that he’s making sure you’re properly absorbing the medicine, that he doesn’t want to hurt you, telling you all of this with a grin, not showing any hint of concern.

he finally pushes in a second finger, making you cum instantly around his fingers to his delight. it’s working beautifully on you, perhaps a little too well when you grab the hem of his jacket as he’s about to pull away, asking for more. he wasn’t actually going to stop, it’s not like he went in this purely for research purposes, but the way your cheeks are flushed, beads of sweat dripping down into the crevices of your shirt, the rise and fall of your chest from him riling you up—it’s enticing. he’ll just have to make a mental note for later and tend to you now, after all, it’d be cruel of him to leave you like this when you’re asking so nicely, right?

he tells to come to the edge of the bed, enough so that your ass is almost hanging off as he peels off your underwear, watching how it clings to your messy cunt, sticky with your cum and slick. he wets his lips in anticipation, wondering how well your essence has soaked up the aphrodisiac as he licks a stripe up your pussy, groaning at the taste. he can already feel it getting to him as well, the residue or whatever was left on you, he figures, is still doing its job. either from the high of knowing how effective his medicine is or the effects really kicking in, he starts to eat you out with fervor, lapping up everything you have to give him, the noise so obscene that they bounce off the walls of his room.

you don’t have the time to feel ashamed by how loud it is, your hands going to tug on his hair as he grunts in response, the vibration of it ripples against you making you moan. he focuses his tongue on your clit, licking and suckling the tiny bud as he shoves two fingers into you, saying something about how you’re still tight even after an orgasm and his drug combined. he’s rutting himself against the mattress of his bed, his clothed cock desperate for any sort of friction as he feels you tightening up around his fingers for a second time tonight.

he curls his fingers, thrusting them in and out as he watches you unravel on his tongue, the sight one to behold. he gently fucks you on his fingers through your orgasm as he cums against his tight pants, slurping up your release as he stands up, unzipping himself to reveal his still hard length.

“there are still more tests to run, i’m afraid, before i can put this medicine on… our shelves, you see.”

childe x cicin mage afab!reader

you, a regular cicin mage, have been assigned to work closely under the 11th harbinger, tartaglia, your immediate response being nothing but a simple “fuck.” you’ve met the harbinger before and you immediately didn’t know how to feel about him. he was so… odd? so… kind? compared to the other harbingers at least, and on the contrary you actually felt the need to be even more wary with him. your first couple months working under him were quite fine. in fact, he was a great boss, he was kind and understanding and after a bit, you’ve completely adapted to being by his side. 

that is until he drags you to a harbinger meeting, forcing you to sit next to him as he places a hand on your thigh, dangerously close to your crotch. he’s stroking the soft flesh, his pinky occasionally brushing over your clit, covered by your leotard. you’re lucky that the other harbingers can’t see what’s going on, though, they seemed to not care for your existence and presence at the meeting anyways. you try to brave up, attempting to push his hand away when he doesn’t relent, completely ignoring any signals you’ve been giving him, participating in the meeting as if he’s absolutely unfazed.

he goes from being subtle to shameless rubbing the nub, not hiding his intentions whatsoever, especially when he pushes your leotard to the side, playing with you skin to skin. your hands cover your mouth, not caring about what the other harbingers might think at this point when tartaglia dips a finger inside your entrance, slowly coaxing it in as he watches your expression, choosing to put in a second. the stretch is divine, two of his fingers already proving to be larger and deft, feeling better than whatever you might be able to do to yourself, and you’re confused. how is he touching you so skillfully? as if he’s already familiar with your walls and every crevice, curling the tips of his fingers to hit your favorite spot with every thrust.

you’re unaware of the obscene noises the two of you have been making, painfully unaware of how the jester has already brought this meeting to an end, some of the harbingers completely ignoring you both as they exit, others shaking their heads in disgust. you’re resting your head against your arms on the table, trying your best to hold in your moans despite having no reason to do so at this point while tartaglia gets more bold with his movements, ripping your leotard for better access and movement.

the squelching sounds and your heavy breaths bounce around the walls of the wide hall, ricocheting back towards you, only adding to your nearing release. tartaglia can feel the way you’re tightening around his fingers, fastening his ministrations until you cum. he groans at your pussy convulsing against him, the bulge in his pants growing larger and larger as he fucks you through your orgasm.

“darling, i think you’re gonna have to… work overtime tonight, am i clear?”

cyno x matra afab!reader

you’ve never really been a good subordinate, always skipping out on meetings as you deem them unnecessary, opting out on drinking with your colleagues, never listening to cyno. it’s not like you can help it, honestly. you have your own way of doing things and you still manage to get the job done regardless, so is there really any harm to your methods? technically no, and cyno has yet to really do anything substantial that could threaten your position, so you decide to test his patience.

his patience that apparently isn’t limitless, you’ve figured out. by…well, you know, the way he’s fucking you against the shelves in the house of daena. he’s keeping you captive, trapping your body with his as it takes all of your willpower and concentration to not make any noise—to not attract any attention towards you both. his chest is flush against yours, his cock fully submerged within you as you grip the shelf for some sort of purchase with one hand, the other desperately covering your mouth.

you can feel his breath, hear every groan that escapes his lips right next to your ear, the sensation only turning you on even further as his hand finds its way underneath your shirt, choosing to play with your nipple. he gives a particularly sharp thrust, as if he’s trying to elicit some sort of noise from you, saying something about how he’s been needing a reason to punish you, about he’s been waiting for this “opportunity” for a long time. his words are lost on you, could you not comprehend simple sentences anymore or was he spouting pure nonsense? you’re not sure, your head foggy from how slow he’s going, how he would suddenly snap his hips against yours, how sometimes he’d suckle on the nape of your neck or bite your shoulder, the figure eights on your clit, everything is driving you absolutely insane.

the general mahamatra, someone you figured whose sex drive was nonexistent, is throwing you for a loop today. someone who is more well endowed than you would’ve imagined, someone who’s filling you up oh so perfectly, the head of his dick kissing your cervix in ways that makes stars float right before your eyes.

at this point you’re tempted to place both of his hands on your hips, to urge him to fuck you right then and there in the house of daena, and you do, but all he does is grip your hips tightly, not budging an inch as he smirks against your shoulder.

“this is a punishment, remember? have i fucked you so stupid already that you’ve forgotten?”

➳ an: wow look at all those tags! also i literally have no idea why childe's banner thingy is so fkn blurry compared to the others... akhdkahsd

if you liked this, consider leaving me a tip!

[tadpolesonalgae]

Seated[*]

Lucien x reader

a/n: thank you for the request anon <3, it’s been quite a while since I’ve written for Lu!

warnings: oral (f! receiving), implied smut, overstim

word count: 888

——————————————————————————————————————————————

Moans spill from your lips, heat flushing your body as you struggle to stay upright, torn between bracing your hands on the headboard and tangling them in his lovely silky hair, fisting your fingers in the locks to better grind against him, soak his mouth with the slick that’s dripping from your pussy.

Lucien’s tongue flattens against your clit, lapping with short but firm strokes over the sensitive part before stroking and circling delicately in tight, mean circles as you cry out, fingers trembling with overwhelming pleasure. Your vision turns blurry, whimpering as he keeps you sat on his face, thighs spread open so he can lick and lap as he pleases.

“Lucien…” you moan, feeling as tears spill from your cheeks, skin slick with sweat as you ride his tongue that’s working you so well…the high tightening in the pit of your belly, thighs subconsciously parting…resting your weight over him as your hips wind…

You cry out as you come, one hand on the pillow and the other on the headboard, shakily holding yourself upright as you rub over his mouth, riding out your pleasure while his tongue licks up your pussy, cunt aching as he circles your clit, waves pulsing through you as you coat him with slick arousal, thick and gleaming as release barrels through you until you’re shaking.

Lucien presses a tender kiss to your clit once the high has passed, though you’re still trembling, and whimper desperately as he suckles lightly on the hyper-sensitive part, tugging it gently between his lips so the tip of his tongue can better flick over your clit.

“Lu…Lucien…” you whimper softly, desperately trying to pull away but his arms are firmly banded over your hips, keeping your sex flush with his mouth as he continues dragging pleasure from your overstimulated body. “Lucien, please! I can’t…” you cry, tears dripping down your cheeks as you try to squirm out of his hold, hips wiggling in attempts to free yourself but it only serves to bring you more stimulation.

“L-Lu…” you plead, a wave of relief breaking across your skin as he at last allows you reprieve.

“I thought you liked it, hm?” He taunts gently, words soft but clearly mocking as his tongue strokes against your pussy, causing a fresh wave of tears to spill. “I do…” you whimper, hands shakily moving back on the bed, allowing you to look down your body at him…see every movement of his tongue against your sex.

“Is my girl getting overstimulated?” He croons, and your lower lip wobbles further, cheeks flushing with heat. “You’re giving too much,” you whine, inhaling sharply as he repeats the action with his mouth. “It’s not my fault you look so perfect when you come,” he drawls in return, and you pay no mind as he guides you from his mouth down his body, basking in the relief from pleasure.

“You can’t blame it on me though…” you argue weakly, muscles still soft and lethargic from being soaked in heavenly tremors. You can acutely feel how your thighs are trembling and you doubt you’d be able to stand right now, legs feeling as sturdy as custard. “Can’t I?” He muses, thumb stroking over your hip as he quietly guides you over his lap, knowing you’re far too out of it to grasp what’s happening anymore. “With a cunt like yours?”

Your lips part at the crude terminology, heat reawakening in the pit of your belly despite being unable to handle anymore.

“You can’t…that’s not my fault…” you whimper, his palms splayed over your waist as you settle on his naked lap, hips mindlessly shifting over him when you feel the hot length of him beneath you, eager to soak more of him in your slick until he’s an aroused, gleaming mess—covered in you.

“Hm? It’s not?” He taunts, carefully encouraging you to raise onto your knees, hand lowering to his cock and your lips part as your eyes follow, watching how he’s lazily stroking himself, his own eye shamelessly glued to your dripping cunt. “I could come from just watching you,” he groans lowly, thumb swiping over his head, smearing the precum that had gathered there, nestled at his tip.

“Lu, wait. What are you…” you trail off when his hand slides between your spread legs, and you automatically begin circling your hips, rubbing against the heel of his palm despite your overstimulated state. He wraps his hand around his cock again, gliding smoothly with the lubrication of your arousal now coating the motions.

“Spread wider,” he instructs, your breath hitching at the softly uttered command. “Lu…you can’t…” you mumble, tears already rising to your lashes, “I can’t—…I can’t do anymore…”

“Yes you can,” he growls lowly, stroking your hip as he guides you down, tip pressing to the slick mess between your thighs.

“You’ve gone further before, princess. You can do it again,” he reminds as his hips roll upwards, the thick length of his cock gliding through the wetness of your cunt with ease, arousal coating him as if eager to have him inside, and you whimper at the unforgiving promise of more pleasure.

“Just a few more, okay? Just a few more on my cock, then we can go back to my mouth.”

——————————————————————————————————————————————

general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @slut4acotar @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks @hnyclover @skyesayshi @nyotamalfoy @decomposing-writer @soph1644 @lilah-asteria @nighttimemoonlover

[corollaservant]

Sweet Delight // Gojo x f!reader (18+)

Synopsis: You are too nice to be serving rude customers for minimum wage. Rest assured that Satoru will take care of it.

Warnings: yandere, obsessive behavior, noncon/very dubious consent, somno, stalking, knives, deception, mind games, murder mentions, violence (not to reader).. that's all.

A/N: Yan!Gojo is Joe Goldberg to me, idk. Beta read by my guy bsf who said the ending sucked (inspired by quote used in this book)

It started on a Friday afternoon.

He was a regular, came to the store every day to get his coffee. No sugar. Iced. The order was unlike him, he seemed sweet, or at least friendly and inviting, he had the type of eyes your friends gushed over when talking about their favorite movie stars, too blue, too inquiring.

At first he smiled and handed you a bill, told you to keep the change and asked you if he could sit outside for a bit. Of course, why wouldn’t he? The store offered it and he knew it, he was just being polite. He would read from a book, whose cover you couldn’t see, seemed too absorbed and you often wondered how he could concentrate with the café’s obnoxiously loud music (owner’s order to attract customers). He’d more than often catch bystanders attention, be it his white hair, his tall physique or his peculiar blindfold, which he wore sometimes instead of sunglasses, the man was attracting people like a magnet. This one time a couple of girls sat down next to him and talked purposefully loud. He lifted his chair and brought it closer to the register, closer to you. Yet, he still didn’t speak.

The first time he spoke to you besides a thanks and can I sit outside for a bit was when a customer harassed you verbally. You got the order wrong and while you offered a second free drink, he started calling you worthless. Your eyes watered and voice broke as he stepped in

“Please do not offend the barista, it was a simple mistake.” He spoke calmly while being twice the size of the customer.

“This is none of your business, sir..” The customer scoffed as he tried standing upright to make himself taller.

“I said.” Satoru sighed “Please get the fuck out the store or it will be..sir.” While there wasn't any physical threat, the tone was convincing enough to have the customer backtrack, hiss and leave the store empty handed.

“I'm sorry for that.” You told him as he looked at you.

“Don't be, this wasn't your fault.”

“I'm Satoru by the way, remember me?”

Of course you did, he was the most loyal customer.

—

It happened on a Friday afternoon.

Your shift started at 1 PM and ended at 9 PM sharp. Satoru had a meticulous routine: 1-3 was for observing. He wouldn't call it stalking, no, that word was degenerate and he wasn't like that. He was just observing you, your hands, as they moved, expressions as you skimmed milk and some of it spilled on the counter, your interactions with customers. He couldn't risk another incident like before. 3-6 was when he usually made an appearance. Black coffee. No sugar, iced and the table just across the bar; close but not too close. He was disappointed today, you hadn't looked at him once—well, in your defense the café was crowded, yet you still looked gorgeous, even with your sleep deprived eyes and disheveled hair, so soft and pure. He loved that. What would it take for him to get your attention? He found himself balancing between proclaiming his feelings and showing you them but decided on the latter. He would—today.

6-9 he had to wait in his car this time, it was raining but he couldn't leave you out of his sight, what if something happened to you? Your stupid manager had you close the store at 9 PM all alone in the dark, what a cheapskate cunt, not hiring a second person on the shift. Should he kill him? No, that’d be too soon. He would make an appearance before nine anyway.

8:40 was when he got out of the car, sloppily wearing a balaclava he’d gotten from Suguru (his seventh grade ninja Halloween costume) and his usual black work uniform. A knife was in his hands as he noticed you from across the road washing some cups. Perfect, you weren't looking but also careless of you, exactly as expected. He barged in the store and tried his hardest to make his voice drop an octave deeper, shit, would you recognize him?

“Give me your money or I'll stab you.” He was laughing internally but had to put on a fake growl, your expression was priceless.

“P—please don't kill me!” was the first thing you said (brokenly mewled) as your poor hands started shaking.

“I said now.” He said as he stabbed the blade in the air. Damn, that was too easy, you were too gullible.

“P–please I will, I–I am all alone.. one moment–'' Poor you, you had already started crying, tears were falling down your face but you didn't seem to notice. Should he stop this now? Probably.

“How incompetent are you? Are you this slow with customers too?” He decided to tease you a little longer, thriving off of your reactions.

Your eyes shot up for a brief second, was it the customer with Satoru a few days ago? He had said something along these lines, but this couldn't be. He was way shorter and had stopped coming ever since Satoru put him in his place. You were thankful for that.

Your hands opened the register as the paper bills you held threatened to soak, you still had one glove on... you looked a bit silly.

“Hey, hey..” Satoru’s voice quickly returned as the mask was removed “It's just me, see?” He whispered, trying to soothe the tone as your eyes widened.

“S–Satoru, what!?” Your voice trembled as the money fell from your hands and you took a step back.

“I wanted to pull a prank on you, I'm sorry if I scared you.” He smiled apologetically but you still couldn't utter a word.

“W-why would you do that? That's sick!” You cried out as he came behind the bar and tried to pull you in an embrace, knife now tucked in his jacket. To get close to you, to teach you a lesson, to make you need me would be his answer. You punched him on the chest, muffled cries fell from your lips. Well... you couldn't land a blow, that was for sure, but you looked cute with your clenched fists taking out your anger on him.

“F–fuck you!” His firm hands stopped your weak, aimless punches and you sobbed on his chest. You smelled divine, even at the end of your shift.

Was this love?

“Hey.. come on now, I said I'm sorry, okay?” He said as he pulled away.

“Came to say I'll stay with you till 9, it's not safe out there.” He promised as you wordlessly returned to the sink. He'd make you love him.

Around 9:10 you closed the store. His prank had slowed you down, exactly as expected, he figured it wasn't often you lost control and he was proud it affected you. It made you susceptible to control. You silently sat with Satoru outside while he insisted on driving you home.

“I don't need a ride. I'm fine.” It wasn't funny to tamper with your feelings like that, he didn't seem like the type and he'd taken you by surprise; actions like these didn't align with the image he painted for himself. He was always so kind, so protective, so—

“Give me the fucking store keys!” was heard before you turned your attention to the voice ahead of you. A man shouted, not too loud to alert anyone but enough to make a point. The street was empty and he was holding what seemed like a paper bag as you turned to Satoru.

This surely had to be another one of his pranks? You were about to laugh when you looked at him. He seemed taken aback, frozen in his spot and his eyes squinted as your heartbeat accelerated.

“What is it with this neighborhood and robberies?” Satoru talks after a while, his tone is confident as he looks at you and the guy growls. Why is he so calm?What is going on?—

“Shut the fuck up and give me the keys or I'll fucking blow your heads off!” The man says moving his hand to your direction, was this guy bluffing? Did he even have anything under the bag? Was your life about to end? It wasn't like people didn't talk about the criminals in the neighborhood—you’d never work there if it wasn't for necessity.

“And if we don't?” Satoru stops you from reaching for the keys as he fights hard to wipe off the grin on his face. Well, that was unexpected, but he isn't scared, he never is, as you interrupt.

“Satoru! P–please! Let me give him the keys!” You cry out, the day straight out of a nightmare the longer it drags on and you honestly can't put up another fight. You'd rather have whoever this was steal an insignificant amount of money from the register than end your life. Sure, there wasn't much to live for, but it was always different when under real threat.

“You’d give him the keys, really?” He scoffs annoyed. He couldn’t believe what a victim you were, couldn't you see he was right there for you? Despite his abilities you still failed to see him. Silly you.

“What c-can we do? He..he– and we–” Was this really the time? Why is he even negotiating this?

“Bitch, stop talking.” The guy spits, tired of your back and forth, as Satoru finally addresses him.

“That’s not very nice.” He is calm.

So calm that you almost don't see his fist obliterating the guy. One punch and he's knocked down, Satoru climbs on top.He pulls his fists down interchangeably but it's fast and you can't count, must be about seven that leave the guy with no time to react, hands to his sides as he yelps. Satoru reaches for his pocket and is about to grab the knife, when he feels two warm hands touch him and he turns around.

“P–please! Let's just go home!” You sob, eyes wide and the pain in your voice breaks his heart. Home, you said? He gets up and kicks the man’s limbs like a soccer ball—blood oozes down his mouth onto the curb and he chokes on some of it. Satoru's knuckles are stained but he gives you his hand as the pulp ahead withers.

Home.

-

He gave you clothes, a sleep set he had in his closet, you’d never know it was specifically tailored and cut out to your size, how would you know? It’s not like he’d tell you he stole (he called it borrow) articles you discarded at work. Your jacket when too hot, a change of pants as he brought them to the store's bathroom and returned them just as discreetly at 5:30 PM. They smelled like you, but he couldn’t categorize the odor, it was too hard. As for the color.. that he didn't care about. Anything would work really. His mind couldn't stop racing when he heard the shower head start, you'd never agree to his hospitality but that was his home, his rules. You also had a very rough day and it didn't take a lot to convince you.

He offered you his bed, he’d sleep on the couch and despite you objecting, he got you to comply. He could only imagine how much today drained you— physically and mentally. He let you sleep, he wasn't some monster, plus he had work to do. You’d wake up around 9, he calculated, so he had time.

When he finally sat down the couch, he couldn't sleep. Knowing you were there, so close and so vulnerable broke him. He didn't wait for his hair to dry — spot cleaning blood on the sink stole away his energy as he slipped on the bed, you were facing the wall and he placed his arms around you. You made no noise but you didn't seem to be sleeping heavily either, you’d slightly toss and turn. Poor you, was it a nightmare? He smelled your shampoo, it wasn't yours really but a variation of the ones you had at home as his fingers went through strands of your hair. He came closer, wanting to feel your body's heat and moved to your chest. His fingers sought your heart as he felt your pulse. A cock pressed against you—he’d been hard for some time and it wouldn’t go away as his palms searched for your nipples. One pinch and they were already hard, shit, he thought as he moved his dick on you. What if he went lower? Would you be a good girl for him? He moved to your belly as he put one leg softly over you, angling his cock directly at your cunt's entrance from behind while he rubbed against the folds, palms finding you from the front. He loved this embrace, all his to play with. He traced the slit and rubbed some more. You felt so soft and tempting. He’d bet no one could protect you like him and that gave him motivation. Yeah, that was right, he deserved a little thank you for his hard work. He fondles your cunt while his stiff cock annoys him, he’ll deal with it later. He buries a finger inside you, your cunt is wet, he thinks and you're not even conscious. Satoru pumps it slowly, it lubricates you in the process as it coats him halfway—he groans far from your ear and pushes another. You inhale sharply.

He pops them in and out until he fears he's becoming too fast so he removes his palm and uses your slick for his pleasure now. Boxers and sweatpants are removed as he wraps around the shaft, his precum gets smeared on his cockhead and he brings it down his base, it creates a wet mess and he gets off on it. He doesn't need much visually, your back softly breathing is enough to pump faster but— you felt so warm, he reasons, should he? You’d be his soon enough so might as well. He quickly turns to your side and lowers the set you're wearing (you'd think he intentionally sized up so it'd be easier to pull them down) as he pushes your panties to the side. You were a naughty girl, wearing a thong to work. Too dangerous, the world had many perverts. He puts his stiff cock on your entrance as he tries to shove just the head first; he hisses at the contact and you move, it's too late to back down now and he grows desperate. Within a second he tilts his hips into your needy cunt—he doesn't flatter himself, he's big so it's no surprise you groan and he assumes open your eyes. You feel tight and warm and he doesn’t care about your shock—he’s close.

“What.. agh—what are you doing?!” You're cut off in between moans as he ruts into you, you choke on a cry and he picks up his pace. His cock is stuffing you to the brim, it hurts but he can't be considerate. You feel like you can't breathe, dizzy from a nap and a repeated thump down your core. Yet, a primal instinct of pleasure washes away a conscious you telling yourself it's wrong and fuck— you moan out his name. Why do you moan?

“Shit, couldn't help myself, sorry baby.” He breathes out as he bucks his hips up and you feel too full.

“Satoru! S–stop...” But your pleas fall on deaf ears as he continues, hands caressing your chest and his breath on your neck while your hips are brought to clash onto his and nasty sounds come from the contact.

“Fuck, so pretty, baby, hm?” He moans and he’s already close, cock throbs as you prettily squeeze him in. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt like this before, it’s like you’re made perfectly to accommodate him and look at you!—clenching your cunt like some slut.

“N–ugh– Satoru please—” You cry out, scared but with a heat coiling low that makes you unable to protest louder. You think of his kind eyes, heartwarming grin (“Got these bad boys for you”, as he gave you your favorite cookies) but soon they're gone away—

—replaced by his cock rutting in your damp walls. You're unwillingly sucking him in, you can't think straight, he's... good? No. He's disgusting for this. Water blurs your eyesight—it's too much.

A hand is on your clit as he bites your soft neck at the same time. God, how he longed for this. Having you in his arms. He adored you.

“Want to come on my cock, like the helpless slut you are, baby?” He whispers but it's soft—like he's teasing you for missing the bus and you cry.

“I- agh-n-no..please—” You muffle and beg and his hand circling your clit slaps on the nub repeatedly as you jerk; “I can't—I–” He doesn't pay attention, his cock is ripping you apart and you have to let go—riding out an unwarranted orgasm. He loves your mess, no, he loves you and since you're conscious (not that it'd matter), he lifts your leg up as he angles himself so deep, you yell; overstimulated and still scared.

“Satoru, e–enough!” He's bottoming out in between sticky walls and you ache, hoping for an end.

“Don't be selfish baby—fuck!” He groans as large palms squeeze around your neck and then he's cumming — fast and as much as possible, you think. It feels warm and disgusting, his breathy moans are on your ear as you force your eyes shut. What doesn't make it inside, seeps back out but it’s not a lot, since you’re fully stuffed and he takes his sweet time to pull out. You just feel that good. He plants a kiss on your back as he returns with towels and puts you back to sleep. You cry—he estimates 15 minutes before you give up and let sleep take care of you.

One step at a time.

-

It's your 3 month anniversary. He doesn't tell you that of course, its embarrassing because it's 3 months since he found you, 2 days since he introduced himself. You still work at the café but you don't have to worry, soon you’ll never have to work again, he has big plans. He is proud of himself for finding you, it wasn't often someone intrigued him so much. He liked how genuine you were, naive and a bit dumb of course but that was exactly what made you so pure. He’d bet even at your lowest, you'd never cuss anyone out. Like for example that cunt of a customer the other day but it was fine, he’d do it for you, actually—

A message from Suguru pops up.

“Comin tonight?”

“No, have plans.” He gets bored easily and this time isn't an exception.

“Again? New record?” He can always read Suguru's irony. Funny of him to think he'd stop there.

“I told you I’d take care of it.” Satoru hastily types.

That guy really shouldn't have called you a bitch, it wasn't even in the script. Look where that got him. In Satoru's trunk ready to meet Mr. Worthless. He shuts his phone, he thinks about throwing it away, there's no need for it anyways. Especially when you're here.

He thinks about some quote his dad used to tell him, how did it go? Some are born to sweet delight—

14 minutes till your shift ends. What was it?

—some are born to endless night? It all makes sense now, it rhymes, that's why he still remembers it.

Or maybe you just give the first part a meaning.

[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐃𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐀 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐏𝐭.𝟐 | 𝐊.𝐇𝐉 ♡

【Synopsis】 : The more he tasted you. The more he was becoming obsessed. And he was treading in dangerous waters, no longer caring about the consequences.

『Word count』 : 2.10k

-> Genre: Smut with little plot. Fluffy. DBF au.

Pairing: Dilf!Hongjoong x Park!Reader

[Warnings] : Fingering. Dirty talk. Pet names. Insecurity about sexual experience. Inexperience reader. Kinda late-bloomer reader. Mention of sex. This is filthy… Hongjoong is in his late 30s while the reader is 23. Hongjoong teaches the reader… I was high when I wrote this, so ignore any mistakes. It not my fault.

Note: Part two is done and dusted since you absolute filthy sinners needed more Dilf Hongjoong. Also, special tags to @mingis-prince @trishu-paper209 @itza-meee for asking for a part two. Enjoy ♡♡♡

Masterlist | Navigation | Part One | Buy Me A Ko-Fi

“Aren’t you gonna help me, sir.”

Hongjoong’s brain couldn’t function, let alone take in what you had said. He could feel the way your cunt clenched around his fingers, your gummy walls so warm and welcoming. He could cum again just by the thought. Your hips were rolling, slowly riding his thick digits. He gulped sharply from what he was witnessing. You, Seonghwa’s sweet innocent daughter, riding his fucking fingers like your life depended on it. “Fuck baby, I might just cum right now.”

He felt no shame in spilling his filthy words to you, something about this already felt so dirty so why not just keep adding fuel to the fire? He shuffled back, making sure not to move his hand that was buried between your thick thighs, using his free hand to pull you closer by your waist. You hiccuped out this name, the movement making your whole body tingle. “D-daddy…” 

“What did you just say?” You were both shocked, stilling your movements completely you felt a wave of embarrassment. You didn’t mean for it to slip out, truly, but oh did it feel so right. Hongjoong’s eyes darkened, pulling his fingers out of your soaking pussy, he chuckled, manhandling you until you were perfectly perched on his lap. He can feel your slick seeping through your panties, coating his boxers slightly. “Say it again, Angel. Who am I?”

“D-Daddy…” You whimpered feeling so small.

“Fuck.” He tipped his head back for a moment, questioning how the fuck he was going to restrain himself now when you are over here calling him daddy. “Are you tryin’ kill me here angel?”

He looked back in your direction seeing your eyes wide and curious, waiting so patiently for your next instruction. So he kept his right hand on your hip while he snaked the left behind your head, tugging you closer until your lips were only inches from his. You could feel his hot breath tickling your nose, the smell of the whiskey he was drinking earlier tonight with his friends and your father… his best friend. This was so dangerous, a part of you was screaming to back away now before anything else happened. But how could you move away now, when you were so close to finally getting what you always wanted…

When you first met your father's friends, Hongjoong wasn’t there. You met San and his partner Wooyoung. And his younger friends Jongho, Mingi, and Yeosang. And spilt drinks on his army friend Yunho. But Hongjoong… he was a mystery. No one spoke about him or what importance he had. All your father would say was they’ve known each other for a long, long time. But grew apart from the war they both served in and worked. But now he’s back and man photos did not do him justice. He was charming, playful and fucking smoking hot. His tattooed left arm made your head dizzy and when he went swimming you got a front-row show of his amazing body. You became wetter than anyone in that pool, that’s for sure.

“If we do this I won't guarantee I’ll let you go.” Hongjoong’s words were desperate and his heart was aching. He knew this was going to cause a lot of drama and most definitely your father killing him but you are worth it.

“Please Joong…” There it was. The words that started this whole drug trip of a night. Two, breathy, whimpering words. Calling for him. Begging for him. His lips were against yours in seconds, his hand tightly tucked on the back of your neck, making it impossible to slip away. His tongue was relentless, sliding over yours with such power and dominance. Your hands found place on his clothed chest, tangling your fingers in the soft cotton. Your hips began to move again, grinding harshly on this cock. His bulge hitting just the right spot making you squirm. “please, please, please.”

Your chanting against his mouth made him grunt, moving his legs so he could tip you both so you were on your back. Your head would be almost hanging off the end of the bed if Hongjoong hadn’t yanked you by your thighs so you could sprawl in the middle of the double mattress. You watch intensely as he tugged his shirt off, leaving himself in his boxer. You could finally take in the scars he had littered all over his body. Bullet wounds, stab marks. All beautifully painted his body. He had been through war, literally. You could almost forget with how calm his demeanour is twenty-hour-seven. “Can I take these off gorgeous?” 

His questions drew you out of your thoughts suddenly, noticing he had his fingers under the hem of your panties. You nodded eagerly feeling yourself tense up. All your previous self-confidence was slowly slipping away... No one has ever seen you naked must less fucked you, and you weren’t about to let Hongjoong find out. The embarrassment you’d feel, being almost twenty-three and still never having sex. Sure you’ve masturbated and used toys but being intimate with someone was unexplored territory. He slipped them off with the help of you lifting your hips. Once they were tossed aside he could take in your spread legs, and glistening sex. God, as if you couldn’t get any more beautiful here you were. “Fuck baby, you gonna let me eat you? Fuck this pretty pussy? You’ll have to be quiet, hmm.”

“Oh god…” You couldn’t help but reel over the idea of his tongue on you. Your body shaking just over the idea. Your breathing became faster, your lungs…tightening. Fuck, why do you feel so dizzy? So…Anxious. Hongjoong noticed almost immediately, hovering over you so he could cup your cheek with his tattooed hand while the other held him up. 

“Hey, Hey what’s wrong princess? Talk to me?” There’s the guilt. The sudden twang in his mouth. and As he saw a tear escape from you, he knew he had done something wrong. “Oh, I’m so sorry. What happened?”

His soothing voice was calming, slowly but surely lessening your heart rate. What you didn’t expect was to see tears in his eyes once you opened your own. It went silent, Hongjoong was waiting for you to respond. Your shaky hand glided up his chest before snaking to hold just behind his neck. “No, No. It’s okay keep going.”

He immediately sat up, bringing you with him. He let out a huff, helping you shift yourself until you were comfortable on his lap…again. “No, I need to know what I did.” His voice was firmer this time, authority-like. It reminded you just how different in age you both were. He was in such a different time in his life while you. You were still learning, exploring. You weren’t someone he could possibly want… right?

A thought danced across Hongjoong's mind for a moment and he couldn’t help but feel so stupid. “You’re a virgin…” He said it more like a statement rather than a question. You gulp, shakily nodding your head in shame. Of course, he can tell, he is sixteen years older than you for god sake. “Hey sugar, it’s okay. Theirs nothing wrong with being a virgin.” 

“There’s not…” You whimpered against his chest, feeling like such an idiot. You were crying, while naked on the guy you’ve had a crush on since you first saw a picture of him, only to realize that it’s okay that you’ve never had sex.

“No baby. It’s not…” Fuck, I’m gonna scream. Was what he wanted to say. He couldn’t care two shits if you were a virgin for you had slept with unlimited men. Sure, the idea of being your first, showing you what you hadn't experienced yet, and helping you through as many orgasms as he could give you in one night, was the most erotic news. But he cared about you. He didn’t want your first to be quiet, hushed away in a tiny ass room, on a tiny ass bed. No, he wanted your first to be memorable, loud, and fun. He wanted to show you how to make sweet love before pounding your cunt like he fucking hated you. He wouldn’t admit this to him just yet but he had fallen hard, from the moment you stepped out of your car. With a bright loving smile, kind eyes, and a beautiful Sun dress.

You sat up to look at him. Your glassy eyes from crying couldn’t barely see. Vision blurring through tears. He nudged his nose against yours, stroking your hip before sweetly, comfortingly. You inched your lips close until your top lip just grazed his before whispering. “I-I’m a virgin…” you felt like you had to say it, confirm it. His demeanour didn’t alter, or so much as flinch when you finally answered, cause he was telling the truth. He didn’t care how experienced or inexperienced. All he cared about was how you feel.

“Sweet thing…” He murmured but your lips sealed on his. This time the kiss was soft and gentle. His hands tugged against your hips, rocking you slightly backward. You let your body weight fall back, taking Hongjoong with you. Your lips never broke. His hips sat snug against your bare core, only his boxers separating you two. It was moderate at first, just a simple steady pace. But as you left little moans here and there, his speed would pick up. Until he was humping you harshly. His grinds hit your perfectly, feeling the shock of the silky fabric brush roughly against your sensitive clit. 

His cock was full hard now, groaning himself at the feeling of you against him. There was something about humping you with a piece of clothing in between so erotic, dirty. He had never felt more like a horny teen than he had now. You had such a hold on him, a way with words. You could do anything to him and he would say thank you. And now he was going to bust a nut in his boxers just from rubbing against you. “Fuck this feels so good baby. I’m gonna cream in my fucking shorts.”

“Fuck, don’t s-say stuff like that.” His words made you clench around nothing, wanting nothing more than his cock inside you. Or even his fingers, at this point either part of him would do. 

“Don’t say stuff like that, hmm.” He grunted picking up the pace in his thrusts. “But I can’t it. Not when I have such a gorgeous woman underneath, soaking me with her silk. You wanna come again, baby? Please, come for me, angel.”

His blabbering and whines made you throw your head back in a high-pitched squeak. All your nerves are on fire, feeling like you were an old fuse box crackling over heavy rain. Your eyes, sewn shut and your fingers nails digging into his shoulders. He was so close and he could tell you were too. Lifting up your leg so he hung on a higher part of his waist so he could ground down at the perfect angle, knocking the wind outta you quickly, seeing white.

He stilled, cumming all over himself. Some seeping through the fabric smearing no your inner thighs. You had no feeling in your legs, and your mind was like TV static, fuzzy, tiring. Hongjoong slipped away for a moment, coming back in a fresh new pair of boxers and a clean damp towel in hand. He wiped you all the semen he could, before helping you into a new pair of underwear, tucking you back on your own bed. He kisses your forehead, having drifted off only moments ago.

He knew he wasn’t going to fuck you tonight. But as he slept he thought about ways to make your first time perfect. He would think of a place, and time. Does he take you out to a restaurant or would you prefer home cooked? He would think about how you’d like to be fuck, positions, styles. He was going to definitely fuck you on every surface of his place. And as he snuck off to the bathroom for the fourth time tonight having to adjust or end up fixing, his problem, he knew he was most likely a dead man. And he was going to enjoy every moment of it.

Part Three

[dollfacefantasy]

Hey girly, love ur writing!!! could you do a leon x fem reader and they are doing the deed and there are other people there are they are tryna stay quiet 🤭🤭 like i lowk imagine leon being kinda needy but idk! thank u girl!!

thank you so much and ofc, here's a little drabble for this <3

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, exhibitionism (someone else in the room)

"Leon. Be quiet. He's gonna wake up," you whine, taking extra care to keep your voice lowered.

"I'm trying, baby. Not my fault you're so fucking tight," he murmurs against the shell of your ear.

You had picked up your boyfriend and his friend Chris from the airport earlier that day. It was a long drive. Apparently their sectors of the government didn't have the competence to drop them a little bit closer to where you lived. You had insisted on just driving through the night, but Leon and Chris were exhausted. They wanted to stretch out on a bed and pass out for the night. Even if the hotel you'd come across only had one available room left.

You feel another moan about to seep from Leon's lips. In an effort to prevent this, you dig your nails into his forearm which was over your chest. His hand rested on your throat, giving him leverage to continue plowing into you from behind.

The little crescents do nothing to silence him and only serve to turn his low pitched moan into a needy whine.

"Leon, shut up!" you whimper.

Your eyes are locked on Chris as your boyfriend ruts into you. His hips smack against your ass, but he's not going fast enough to make any disturbing noise.

"Hush, honey, he sleeps like a fucking rock, trust me," he whispers.

He aims to reassure you with some wet kisses behind your ear. You knew this was wrong and that you should've protested. If Chris did wake up, you'd be humiliated and guilty. But fuck, he just felt so good.

His cock keeps sliding into your soaked cunt just right. Each stroke hits another mark of pleasure. It was a miracle you were able to keep some semblance of composure. To keep yourself quiet, you clutch the blankets in your fists though, so hard it nearly pains you. Leon didn't have the same discipline. This entire time his panting and whimpering drips right into your ear. The noises were among your favorites in the world, always guranteed to make you squirm.

"That's it. That's a good girl," he coos upon hearing no further protests, "Just relax for me, babydoll."

The thought was a persuasive one. You could feel yourself beginning to melt into the crisp hotel sheets just like how you would in your own bed at home. Half of your face presses against the pillow case. His hips never stop moving beneath the blankets. He couldn't get enough of your velvety warmth wrapped around him.

As you feel yourself starting to build to that sweet release, you see Chris start to shift. Your eyes had been locked on him the whole time, preparing for this exact scenario. Panic floods your mind. Had he been awake since the beginning? Had he been watching? Was he pissed?

Your heart pounds even harder against your ribcage as your fingers release the blanket and return to his arm.

"Leon!" you gasp.

He can tell from the infliction in your tone that it's not a gasp of ecstasy. His thrusts come to a screeching halt. His eyes that were half-lidded with a combination of lust and fatigue open a little more. He spots the same movement you did.

Fairly certain it was some usual tossing and turning, he pulls you closer to his chest and nuzzles the side of your head.

"Stay quiet, babe. We're gonna be fine," he whispers even quieter than before.

The two of you do exactly that. You stay still and silent. It was kind of nice, the calm feeling of just being full without any sparks of pleasure. But Leons arm begins to move.

Your eyes dart down and watch his limb slither below your t-shirt and up to your breast, taking one of the warm mounds in his hand. He just rests it there as the both of you continue to pretend to sleep as if he needed to feel more of you. Being buried inside of you just wasn't enough to sate his desire.

As soon as Chris has settled facing the opposite direction and you're both confident he's fast asleep, Leon begins pumping his hips again. And with the return of the movement, comes the return of his noises. He grunts, groans, mewls. Anything he needs to in order to spur on his own release.

You just let him this time without any complaints, figuring he may finish and get you to finish a bit faster with the lack of bickering.

His cock begins to pulse within you. As his thrusts get sloppier and a bit more erratic, you know the end is near. Your hand delves down between your legs, pads of your fingers rubbing at your clit a little to give yourself that extra friction needed to join him.

He cums first. His hips stop, pelvis flush against your backside. At first, you're sure he's gonna wake someone. His noises are only a little louder, but they're much more frequent. You feel him spill every drop within you as he shoots rope after rope. You're not far behind and cum a few seconds later. Your legs twitch as your walls clamp down around his already sensitive length, drawing more needy sound from him.

While the two of you come down, he murmurs into your ear. His words are all breathy from the bliss that had just entered his system.

"Christ, angel. So perfect for me," he says with a small kiss to your head.

You reciprocate the affection, but some anxiety still lingers within you.

"You really think he didn't hear?" you ask, looking up into his eyes for reassurance.

"No way. We're clear," he says, granting your wish before grinning at you, "Besides, if he did, I'm sure he'd enjoy the show."

Your eyes widen at his little clip and you lightly pinch his bicep. "Shut up. For real this time," you tease.

"You got it, boss," he says, planting one more kiss on your lips.

You roll your eyes but still get comfy in bed as he pulls out and fixes the two of you. After falling back into position, it's not hard to fall asleep. You fit against each other perfectly. His chest is so warm against your back. Everything just feels right, especially since you were sure you'd just pulled off the heist of the century.

You fall asleep on cloud nine but are quickly brought back to reality the next morning when the three of you check out. You're carrying your bags out while Chris holds the door for you. Leon's putting things in the trunk already, eager to get home and have some true alone time with you.

As far as you knew, you were in the clear. That was until Chris gave the room one last glace and then turned his gaze to you.

"The next set of people better hope they clean the sheets really well," he says with a teasing smile.

[bunnys-kisses]

if I knew you write for jenson I would've ordered long time ago! can I get tiramisu with a side of champagne with jenson? (after he won his championship not very dilf yk)

bakery menu

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu! there are tons of things to submit and i do accept orders outside of f1, so hit me with it!! as for this anon, thank you for submitting a jenson button order, haha. i do think it is very funny that you had to specify before his dilf era, haha. but thank you for the clarification. there is tons of dirty talk (oops)

tiramisu (“my little slut to ruin.”) + champagne (sugar daddy au) served by jenson button (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, sugar daddy au, 2009 era, dirty talking, driver's room sex/semi-public sex, mean!jenson, couch sex, clothed sex, panty ripping (oops)

you should've known that the moment jenson got his hands on the trophy, he was going to be all over you. you had went to see him at the final race of the season, and when it was clear that he was pulling through points wise. you should've taken your panties off under your skirt.

because jenson was going to rip them off of you.

the sound of tearing fabric filled the driver's room as he got you thrown over the back of the couch, your ass on display for him. he tossed the fabric away, no longer unusable as any kind of garment.

"i liked those!" you squeaked.

he chuckled as he groped his cock through his driver's suit, "you act like i can't buy you new panties. you dumb little slut, i pay for everything else."

you swallowed and arched your back a little more. you knew your place, it wasn't your fault. you let a formula one driver flash a bit of money in front of your broke student face and you followed him to the ends of the earth.

and now when he wanted to poke the base of your cervix with the blunt tip of his cock. you let him. like a good girl should.

he got out of as much of the suit as he could and got his cock out of his pants. it was a bit awkward, but he couldn't have the luxury of undressing both of you. not right before the press circus.

he gazed at your soaked cunt for a moment and licked his lips. he flipped the skirt of your dress up and sank into your pretty little cunt. it was an easy fit, he had trained his girl quite well. all to lead up to this moment, he got to celebrate his win with his cock buried in his girl.

it was perfect.

his hands on your hips, feeling the meat under his firm grip. he was practically fucking you face first into the couch. he just wanted to feel his beautiful slut. the pretty hole that he gets to fuck between races. originally this sugar daddy agreement was to help you pay for the nice school you went to in england.

but you haven't been on campus in over a year, why would jenson let you? you were prettier on his arm at events than in between the stacks of books. you were both only in your twenties, but he wanted to make sure that you couldn't get out of his grip.

eventually you'll go back to school. just later.

for now, it was about celebrating. and he was doing that while your pussy drooled around his cock. he panted heavily and continued his forceful thrusts. you were a dream to him, making the lust throb in his back of his head.

"my little slut.' he groaned, "but you know that, you know that you get a nice little payment in exchange for letting me ruin your pussy." his words were venomous but it made you see stars behind your eyelids.

you whimpered, "please, jenson." you arched your back a little to get a better angle of his cock pushing into your soaked cunt.

“my little slut to ruin.” he said, "right? all mine." he continued to thrust up into you. his force was tight and his tongue was loose. he wanted to make sure that you knew that you were a taken woman.

that he was the champion and you were the cute little thing that he sank his cock into. he held onto your hips tightly and battered his cock up against you.

"pretty thing." he said, "you know how to be good for me." he groaned a little bit. you were still on the track, and the driver's room was only so private. but his mouth still ran, "pay for your rent, your clothes, anything you need. and you in return let me make a mess of your little cunt. i guess it's only fair. i empty my wallet for you and i empty my balls in you." he chuckled a little as he felt the sweat on his back.

the adrenaline was still high.

you let out a small whimper and he continued to thrust into you. you felt so good enough him, like a proper fit. his pace was aggressive as he pushed you further into the couch.

sadly the sex couldn't last long as he had places to be with you on his arm. he was the world champion after all. he licked his lips at the sight of your pussy trying to accommodate his girth.

a sweet little thing you were. all his.

he gave it a few more heavy thrusts before he came inside of you. he buried his cock as deep as it would go inside of you. he felt hot all over in the clothes he was still in, but his core throbbed with a deep need for you.

"mine. my little slut." he groaned as he gripped the back of your head to keep you pinned under him. he hissed through his teeth before he slowed to a stop.

he kept his cock inside of you as his other hand worked at your clit. which made you freeze up, the pleasure melted in your brain like chocolate in the sun. you whined a little louder and he told you to shut up.

he played with your poor clit, already throbbing for a deep need. you covered your mouth with your hands as you curled up as you came. you tensed all over as it washed over you. then you relaxed over the back of couch. a bit of cum stuck to your pussy lips and jenson loved the sight of that.

a beautiful little slut.

he patted your bare ass cheek before he got the skirt of your dress over your ass. he chuckled a little, "better pray that it doesn't leak out of you. because if it does." his tone got a little darker, "i'll just have to put it all back in you."

he watched you try to compose yourself before you both had to get out in front of the cameras. he hoped that the press got a picture of his cum running down your leg. after all, he was number one and he was allowed to stake claim on your sweet pussy. <3

[222col]

sugardaddy!au continues | art & patrick both make it to the finals, leaving you with a choice to make | 18+

you're adorning yet another new outfit that patrick bought for you, fresh set of nails tapping your phone as you text your friends during patrick's morning training session. it's the day of the final, art won his match, so you get the pleasure of watching your past and present battle it out on the court.

i can't believe ur fucking patrick zweig, lowkey so jealous

you giggle at your friends texts in the group chat, simply replying with a picture of him on the court and a couple heart eyes emojis. patrick finishes up with his coach and joins you in the bleachers, he's sweaty and panting and honestly just so fucking hot. he mumbles a 'hi' as his lips graze yours, swiping his tongue across your lips before pushing it into your mouth. you're so distracted you don't hear the sound of tennis balls hitting rackets. "this is a closed practise." you'd recognise that voice anywhere. tashi donaldson. patrick laughs against your lips, leaning back in his seat and placing his arm over your shoulder. art's sat on the bench next to the practise court, you expect him to be sad, angry at the sight he's walked in on, but he isn't. he's determined.

patrick guides you down the stairs of the bleachers. "don't get jealous, art." patrick's laughing, as art rises from the bench to start practising his serves. you're hiding as much as you can behind patrick's tall frame. "shut up, patrick. you've always wanted what's mine." tashi's rolling her eyes. "she's not yours anymore, art, are you princess?" you're blushing. you physically couldn't respond if you wanted to. "enough with the dick swinging competition, we've got a tournament to win." tashi interjects. "i know i do." patrick responds before leading you off the court, looking back once more to art, his eyes on you as you leave. "i need to beat him, tashi." art states through gritted teeth. "show me what you got then, loverboy."

after lunch, patrick leaves you at the bar, going to warm up before the match. making your way through the players' hallway to find your seat in the stands, you're pulled into one of the rooms. art's room. art closes the door behind you two, and for the first time in a week, the two of you are alone. "art, i-" his lips on yours cut you off. "he fucks you harder than me, does he? makes you come more than i ever did? we'll see about that baby." his words are like swords as he whispers them into your neck. you're confused, not thinking straight, until you remember. "oh my god, the fucking camera in my apartment!" you're pushing art off your body. "you fucking watched me?! you've been spying on me this whole week?!" you've never seen art like this, he's not shy, he's not embarrassed, he's smirking. "not the whole week." he's not defensive, he's not apologising, simply explaining. "just the morning of my match, i missed you, and wanted to see you." he's inching closer to you, slowly. "it's not my fault you and patrick fuck like rabbits." you're disgusted, knowing he's been watching you in your home without knowledge. but, there's some part of you, deep, deep down that finds this perverted side of art irresistible. "yeah, well maybe i like being fucked around the clock." it's you inching closer now. toying with him, pressing his buttons. "yeah i bet you do, baby girl."

your lips are mere inches apart, spurring each other on. your eyes staring so deeply into his. a sight you don't realise until this moment how much you've missed. "bet he fucks you like the little slut you are, huh?" your lip is between your teeth. "actually, i know he does, i watched every fucking minute of it." you're near enough drawing blood, your cunt aching, desperate for him. "oh yeah? and how'd that feel, watching your best friend fuck your girl?" this is uncharted territory for you and art, you're both seeing how far you can push each other until one of you finally breaks. "at least you still know who you belong to." his arms loop around your waist, pulling you further towards him, closing any distance that remained between your bodies. art's lips are against yours, not kissing you, just grazing the skin. his hand darts between your legs, thumbing your sweet spot. your mouth opens slightly as a quiet moan leaves your lips, art finally pushing his mouth to yours fully and shoving his tongue down your throat.

"your match starts soon," you mutter into his mouth. he removes his hand from your cunt. "guess i better go get ready then." he's gathering his rackets. "but, i-" he raises his hands to your lips, shushing you and dragging his thumb across your bottom lip. "girls who have been naughty don't get what they want." you can feel your pussy throb at his words. he kisses your cheek and leaves his dressing room, leaving you alone, your thoughts running through your head a mile a minute. you shake yourself out of it and make your way to the stands.

patrick had picked out the perfect seat for you once more, centre count, right down the middle of the court. you're flustered, confused and downright lost for words. you watch both boys enter the court, one in white, one in black. they're names are announced as they stretch and get into position. what you don't expect is patrick walking to the net, waiting for art to join him. after a few seconds he does, as patrick leans over to whisper in his ear. "winner takes all?" you can't make out what they're saying, but you do notice both of their eyes on you. breathing deeply as patrick extends his hand to art. he shakes. "deal."

[princessoflalaland]

Everybody Knows That I'm a Good Girl

content: slight smut, masturbation, good girl reader x guts

a/n: lana del Rey's 'playing dangerous' was in mind as well as all the inspo provided to me by my girl dv

good girl reader who always turns in her work on time and arrives to work on time. punctuality is her middle name.

good girl reader who does as she told without question. she puts emphasis on being a good girl.

good girl reader who is an overachiever. what—no, who—would she be if everyone around her didn't know how hard she worked?

good girl reader who wouldn't so much as ever look at porn. what does she look like, a pervert?

good girl reader who doesn't and will never associate with the likes of her roommate, Guts. why would she? a ruffian like him that has a reputation with all kinds of women at the university. he'd only serve to tarnish her meticulously built reputation, and she doesn't need that.

good girl reader who would never partake in something so obscene as to bringing someone into the dorms and screwing them next door. Guts does that enough for the both of them. it's not her fault that the walls are thin and she can hear the...mean things he says.

"takin this dick so good, ya fuckin slut. finna nut all in this nasty pussy, mhm, gonna make a mess outta you..."

good girl reader who swears she'd never want someone to talk to her like that. her panties were already that wet to begin with, before she could hear his vulgar vocabulary partnered with those deep, sexy moans...

good girl reader who can't help but notice the scratches those girls leave on his neck and back when she passes him in the dorm halls. what an exaggeration. it, he, can't be that good, right?

good girl reader who finds it hard to think when that damned Guts teases her in front of his friends whenever he can. she'll glare and ignore the second pulse between her legs.

good girl reader who is unfortunate enough to find one of guts shirts in the dorm laundry room. it must've slipped out of basket and never made it to the washer because it still smells like him.

good girl reader who swears its pure curiosity, rationalizing that humans are naturally curious. she only wants to understand what it may have felt like. so she finds herself alone on her bed with her fingers plunged deep in her weeping cunt, eyes closed, and guts shirt on her much smaller frame. with her labored breaths, images of guts flickers across her mind.

good girl reader who muffles her moans by biting down on the collar of the shirt, soaking it with her saliva. she cries his name when her strongest orgasm to date descends upon her.

good girl reader who can't help but smirk knowingly when she overhears guts complaining about his missing shirt.

"it was my favorite damn shirt too. if I find somebody wearin that shit I swear..."

good girl reader who lets, by far, the most devious machination plant itself in her mind.

good girl reader who sneaks into guts dorm when she knows he's out at one of the many block parties happening over the weekend. she's wearing that shirt he misses, sitting on his bed, heart racing and inner thighs warm and wet, as she watches the door knob turn.

good girl reader who may not be as good as everyone thinks.

[multi-kpop-fanfics]

Because we’ve all been going through it with Gyu…thoughts on leaving scratch marks on that pretty, pretty back of his? 👀

yeah. (@onlymingyus @gyuwoncheol hi loves <3)

tw: dom!mingyu, sub fem!reader, scratching, marks, rough sex, mating press, unprotected sex, mentions of breeding kink, established relationship, use of petnames - minors dni.

You stretch your arms over your head, slowly opening your eyes to get accustomed to the sunlight shining in the room.

You really don't feel like getting up from the bed though - mainly because you physically cannot.

You swear your lower half is numb from last night, because you can only prop your upper half on your elbows. You push the comforter off your body and your eyes widen at the sight of your legs covered in marks.

"Sleeping beauty is finally awake."

Mingyu's voice catches your attention and you turn your head towards your boyfriend, who's leaning against the doorframe of the bedroom.

"Good morning to you too, Gyu." You grumble.

"What's wrong, darling?" He tilts his head like a curious puppy.

"I can't move my legs." You pout in defeat.

"Aww, that's too bad." He fake pouts.

"I wonder whose fault is that." You cross your arms in front of your chest.

"And I wonder who's the creator of these." Mingyu turns his back on you and you gasp when you notice the dark red streaks on his skin.

The memories from last night resurface in your brain and your pussy starts contracting again, producing slick.

"Care to share what's on your mind, love?" He crawls on the bed next to you.

"Um, nothing." You turn your face away, embarrassment washing over you.

"Darling." He tilts your head back in its original place with his hand under your chin. "Lying isn't your strong suit."

"Shit, okay." You exhale shakily. "You....showed me your marks and I remembered what we did.... last night."

"Wanna refresh my memory as well?" He grins evilly.

"I left scratches on your back because...you were fucking me good."

"Oh? How good was it?"

"It was r-really good, Gyu."

"Do you remember the position, Y/N?"

"M-Mating press." Your voice grows weaker.

"Ah yes, mating press. Our common favorite, isn't it?" Mingyu trails his finger over your collarbones.

"Y-Yeah."

"Mmm, pressing your pretty thighs all the way to your chest, just to let my cock hit you deeper."

"Fuck, Gyu." You bite your bottom lip to suppress the bubbling moans in your throat.

"You just couldn't keep your gorgeous nails away from my back, sweetheart." His hand travels to your legs. "Digging them and dragging them up and down - wanna tell me why?"

"Y-Your cock was messing up my pussy real good," you mewl and drag his hand closer to your needy core, "Felt so full and creamy."

"That's why it's called mating press, darling." Mingyu bites his bottom lip as he ghosts his fingers over your panties. "It's the perfect position for me to breed your sweet little cunt."

All of a sudden, his hand disappears from between your legs and your boyfriend gets up from the bed, snapping you out of your trance.

"But I'm sure you must be feeling famished after such a night, don't you? Breakfast is served in the kitchen." He winks at you and walks away.

"You're a meanie!" You yell from the bed, stomping your hands on the mattress.

But he's your meanie.

[someprettyname]

"he's going to die, it's not my fault I serve so much cunt ┐⁠(⁠ ⁠˘⁠_⁠˘⁠)⁠┌" ass pose

[hotvintagepoll]

My roommate always says that no one can wear a dress like Myrna Loy, that she wears the hell out of every one she’s ever worn, that cunt is always on the menu when Myrna is the chef and she will serve it PIPING hot, and my roommate is RIGHT. This is such an established fact between us that one time when I was dithering about whether or not to buy a dress (I am frugal to a fault), she convinced me to buy it by just looking me dead in the eye and saying “Myrna.” She said absolutely nothing else. The invocation of Ms. Loy was simultaneously the single greatest compliment she could’ve given me and the single greatest argument she could provide for buying a dress, and she was right, I looked incredible, I obviously immediately bought said dress.

And here’s Myrna looking incredible in various gowns! Even if I don’t like the dress, I like her in it:

(couldn’t find a good full length picture of the second to last dress, but she wears it in Double Wedding and it’s iconic to ME)

Myrna Loy vs Mbissine Thérèse Diop

[pinguwrites]

Kinktober 2023 | Day Ten — William Killick + uniform kink, dirty talk

Pairing -> dom!william killick x wife!reader

Warnings -> smut (minors dni), dom!william, sub!reader, mention of military duty, use of good girl, sir kink, captain kink, william in his uniform>>>>>

KINKTOBER 2023 MLIST

Disclaimer: The Edge of Love characters, plots, quotes, etc. do not belong to me and belong to the rightful owner(s). This is only fanfiction and this is just for fun.

“I knew you liked it,” William said sweetly, resting his forehead against yours. He cupped your cheeks in his hand, caressing it with his fingers. “I can see the way you look at me when I wear it. All bothered-like. Just want a strong man to take care of you, hmm?”

You shuddered. William was right. You did like it when he wore his uniform, especially now that you were finally seeing him against after his deployment. How was it your fault he looked so damn good in it? It complimented his skin tone, it matched his dark brown hair almost perfectly, and it outlined his body, showing that he was strong and muscular and fit. When he wore it, it was like he commanded respect, and when you were by his side, it felt like no one could hurt you, that you were under protection, William’s protection. That you were his. 

“Yeah,” you admitted, trying not to get all flustered about it. If you didn’t downplay the situation you were sure you’d be in for nights of teasing. “It just, it looks nice on you. It’s a pretty colour.”

Images of fantasies you’ve had came up in your head. You tried to push them down, but you couldn’t stop thinking about them, especially now . . . William, holding you in his arms, shielding you from the dangers of the outside world. He would command you and dominante you, but in the loveliest ways — in a caring way. In a way that said he loved you. Sometimes he’d be on top, fucking you so good, but with his uniform on. He’d ask you — no, demand you call him ‘Captain’, and you would.  

William kissed you softly, his lips brushing up against yours. “I know it is. Is this what you want?” he asked.

“What?”

“Is this what you want?” he repeated. “To make love to you in this uniform?” His hands trailed up under your shirt, aiming to touch your breasts. “I can do that. Only if you want it.”

“Yes!” you immediately said, then averted your eyes, embarrassed at how eager you sounded. “William, I want it.”

“Darling,” he cooed. He picked you up in his arms, bridal style, and carried you to the bedroom, laying you gently on the mattress. “I’ll give it you. But first we need to lay some ground rules, okay?”

You looked up at him, curious, while he unbuckled his belt. What a wonderful sight.

“It’s not William anymore,” he said sternly. “You’ll call me Captain Killick. I deserve it, don’t I? For my wife to respect my position?”

“Yes, sir.” You could feel your body getting hotter, and the area between your legs wetter.

“You’ll be obedient, too. No brattiness,” he said, as he pulled his fat cock out, “no pleas or cries. Just ‘yes, sir’, ‘I’ll do anything to please you, sir’. I’ve served you all those years out there, fighting to keep my darling girl safe, and in return you’ll serve me. On your knees with your mouth, legs spread with your cunt — whatever I ask.”

Your response was filled with lust, “Yes, sir. Whatever you ask.”

“Good girl.” He gave you a proper kiss this time, a passionate one, with his tongue sweeping over your lips and pushing its way into your mouth. He let out a muffled groan, hiking up your skirt and pulling down your panties. 

“Get on your hands and knees for me,” he said in your ear. You hesitated. He had never taken you in that position before, but you obeyed nonetheless, waiting in anticipation.

“Ohh,” William moaned, pushing his cock into your wet pussy. He immediately started thrusting, hard and fast, without giving you a chance to adjust. 

“William!” you yelped, clutching onto the bed sheets for some stability.

He swiftly spanked your ass.

“C-captain Killick,” you corrected, little whimpers leaving your mouth. 

“Good girl. Ah, fuck — I can feel you clenching,” William said, his balls slapping against your skin, but you could also hear the sound of clothing shuffling. “Like it this much? Being—under my control? Dirty.”

You squirmed and tried to cover your wanton moans by placing your hand over your mouth, but William pinned your hands behind your back the moment he noticed what you were doing. “No, I want to hear your moans. Don’t hide them from me . . ."

He slowed his pace down and leaned over, his stomach touching your back. His thrusts were now more stiffer, and rough, pushing his way deep inside you. “Need to do this more often. Getting you so wet . . . I’ve missed you, it’s been so long since I’ve been inside of a woman.”

He cupped your bouncing breasts, pinching your nipples, eliciting a squeak out of you. “My darling wife. I love you . . . Now, stop squirming," he chastised, "and let me fuck you good."

Taglist:

@rainyforest777

@thatwitchybitch420 

@madeinuk

@gentyleman

@henrywintersdearestgirl

[sky-kiss]

You want a sinning prompt, ill give you a sinning prompt *cough*Ascendedform!usingyoutomakBloodofRaphaeltieflings*cough*

A/n: /checks the time Ok. It’s sin o’clock. I'm hiding everything under the cut. Because it's...well. You know.

___________

Ascended!Raphael x Reader 18+: Well, well, well, if it isn’t the consequences of your actions.

___________

"Look at you," Haarlep breathes the words against your ear, nose tweaked against your cheek. There's a scrape of teeth, and you shiver, screwing your eyes shut against the sensation. Sensitive, so sensitive. Every nerve in your body feels alive. They lick across to the corner of your mouth, turning your head to kiss you deeply. The incubus' tail curls around your thigh, urging your legs to fall apart for him. Fingers circle your clit, a lazy series of strokes meant to build you higher but never break. He chuckles, a mimicry of affection, as he kisses you again. "Such a pretty mess you make. Even Raphael couldn't fault my work."  

You gasp, head lolling back against their shoulder. His right arm is a vice holding you back against his chest. The warmth of them helps. Haarlep smells like summer fires and vetiver, fresh and burning; it suits them. You're burning. 

Their fingers dip lower, pressing into you and scissoring. You whimper, and Haarlep swallows the sound, pushes their tongue into your mouth, and makes you taste, drink, and welcome him. The fever is almost unbearable. The incubus has stretched and stretched you. All you feel is empty.

"Good girl," they coo. Haarlep wipes your slick on your thigh. They smile against your skin. "So good for us. So ready. Say it, sweetling. Say you're ready." 

"Please."

"Ah, ah, that," they nip the tip of your nose, "was not what I asked: are you ready, pet?" 

"I'm ready. Gods, please!" 

"Oh, darling," he shifts, dragging fingers down your sternum, your belly, down to the apex of your thighs. "After tonight, not one of your gods will have you. All ours. Always." Haarlep hums, leaning their head against yours. "Isn't that right, Raphael?" 

Raphael waits, kneeling. The ascended fiend tilts its head to the side, tongue lolling from the center mouth. Its eyes burn with animal intelligence; part of it is weighing Haarlep's words, tasting them. Its wings fan out to the side, brushing the tile, braced for stability. The clawed hands rest on either side of the pair of you. 

The beast noses your chest. Scents you. And purrs. You groan, shifting back against Haarlep, lifting your hips. 

How lovely you'll look, he'd said, as conversational as he might have been over brunch, full of my seed. That's what you want, yes? To be good for me? Serve me? 

You wanted it more than your next breath. The fiend tastes you first, its growl vibrating through your body. The heat makes you shift, panting, glancing over your shoulder for help. The flat of its tongue covers the whole of your cunt with flat pressure, warm and wet; Haarlep leads you in a lazy rock, cock still pressed against your ass. You clench at his thighs, searching for purchase, anything, as the fiend works itself up. The more it laps at you, the wetter you get. The better you taste. The more it wants. Up, and up, and up, and there has to be a breaking point, there has to be a ceiling, there has to, has to, has to…

Your back bows, thrusting into the creature's touch. There is enough of Raphael in there to delight in this naked affectation, and it howls its pleasure, tongue pressing inside your clenching hole. It's being filled with heat, stretched, and you can't help but fuck yourself onto it, welcoming more. You want him. You wish you could put into words how badly you want him. 

You're lucky, you know, he'd breathed the words against your lips, skirt rucked up around your hips. His hand over your mouth to keep you quiet as he thrusts into you. I've chosen you, little mouse. My treasure…what pretty spawn you'll give me.

And, oh, it's too much. Too much, the head of its cock pressed to your soppy cunt. Haarlep spreads your legs wider, angles you, purring filth in your ear until you're grinding down, desperate. They want to see you speared on him, want to listen to you babble, want to watch you come and come. Raphael pushes, and you jolt, feeling your body finally relent. 

You could never take all of him, but you take enough. It lowers its head, licks your cheek, and howls. It fucks without grace or concern, pulling you where it wants, its head thrown back, taking. In the back of your mind, you're vaguely aware of Haarlep laughing, lifting your hips just enough to let the fiend slide deeper. Air is an afterthought. You're screaming, and it's sharp, everything: the heat, the pain, the pleasure. Sweat tracks down your body in lazy rivulets. You're coming apart, but your body won't stop. It's rocking with him, hungry. One of the fiend's hands snakes around your waist, jerking you away from the incubus and into it. 

You belong to Raphael, his, his, and you shake, one hand tangling in your hair, one reaching out for Haarlep. He leans over you and kisses you just long enough to leave a fresh swell of intoxicating pleasure rocketing through your system. And then leaves you to the fiend. 

You lose track. You're exhausted. It flips you onto your front, up on your knees, filling you again. You ache, but it's good. Its folded over you, panting, screaming, and you break again, clutching at its cock. And when Raphael finally comes, you want to sob; forehead pillowed on your arms—filled with him, full of him. Its spend drips down your thighs. 

Fingers, oddly gently, card over your lower back and thighs. Raphael, your Raphael, leans over you, pressing a kiss to the small of your back. He gathers his seed with a chuckle, pushing it back into your cunt. You moan. 

"Look at you," he mumbles. "So beautiful. Eternally mine." 

[kingkatsuki]

— make it fit

Based on this post here.

Kirishima says he’ll make it fit, but it really really won’t fit.

Warnings: 18+, size difference, hinted first time, creampie, Kirishima jerks off in readers pussy, Kiri talks to your pussy like it’s a person sorry not sorry, not proofread.

Pairing: Kirishima Eijirou x f!reader.

Word Count: 1.2k.

It’s no secret that Kirishima is big.

The number eight Pro-Hero is a force to be reckoned with as he towers over most other heroes, especially his old classmates. He’s a towering wall of muscle and dwarfs you with ease, whenever you hold his hand or sit on his lap you’re reminded about just how contrasting the size difference is. And being a man of his stature means there isn’t a part of Kirishima that’s small.

“Fuck,” Kirishima grunts as the swollen tip of his cock catches against your hole, leaning into the give as he begins to press his hips forward.

But he’s too big, too thick.

It feels like all the air has been stolen from your lungs as he begins to breach your wet heat, certain you can feel him in your throat as you begin to seize up.

“Shit, baby,” He chokes, moving a calloused thumb to press sloppy circles against your clit, “You gotta relax.”

And you’re trying, you really are. Thinking back to all the nights you’d spent dreaming of this moment, your fingers stuffed into your tight cunt as you tried to imagine they were his cock. Spreading and scissoring your digits in a feeble attempt of replicating the size, but of course you hadn’t prepared for him to be quite this big.

“You’re so fucking tight, oh shit—“ Kirishima clenches his eyes shut tight, terrified that if he opens them he’ll cum too soon. The debauched expression on your face veiled with the slightest hint of pain has his cock pulsing, his balls tightening as he contemplates just rutting his hips forward and forcing his cock into your wet, warm hole, “Come on, sweet girl. You got this, I got you—”

He’s panting now, short chaste breaths which have his chest heaving. It does nothing to quell the ache between your thighs, only serving to have your clit throbbing with desire when his eyes roll back.

“Eiji— it hurts,” Your jaw tightens as you hiss through gritted teeth when Kirishima shifts his hips, your cunt drooling around him does nothing to help ease him inside. The lubrication no match for his thick girth as he tries a different angle. A different approach as he presses palm to your thigh, raising your hips but to no avail.

“I know, baby. I know,” He coos, leaning down to pepper wet kisses against your cheek. Following the path of the tears that streak down the apples of your cheeks as the change of angle has you gasping in surprise, a pained squeal tumbles from the back of your throat as you make a sound akin to a wounded animal, “Fuck, sweetheart. I’m sorry—”

But Kirishima still doesn’t pull out. He feels like a monster for deliberately trying to continue when you’re in pain, when he’s hurting you. It’s not his fault. Not when you feel so good, his cock begs for more as he cherishes the way your cunt wraps around him. Even with just the tip buried inside you he can still feel the way you clench around him, like your needy cunt is desperately trying to milk him for all he’s got.

“I just gotta get this tight little pussy used to me is all,” He groans, letting his fingers feel around his cock, pressing down on where your bodies are connected as he collects your slick against his fingers, “Get her all nice and ready for my cock.”

Kirishima loves the way your cunt pulses at his praise, gazing down at you through half-lidded eyes as he begins to stroke himself. Smearing your slick along his length as he wraps himself in a fist, tightening it to try and replicate how tight your cunt would be if he just forced his hips forward.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. We’ll keep trying yeah? Keep trying until I stretch this pretty pussy out.” He’s rambling now, drunk on pleasure as he imagines just how deep inside you he would be if you took him all. His free hand tracing a path along your pelvis towards your stomach as he presses down.

Your smaller hands wrap around his wrist for some semblance of reality as Kirishima continues to jerk himself off with his swollen tip still buried inside you.

“Please, Eiji.” His fist bumps your clit with each forward motion as he watches you writhe beneath him, almost like you’re begging for his cum.

And who is he to deny you? He’s a gentleman after all.

“I think she can take me all, she’s just shy.” He continued, flicking his wrist as he continued to stroke his cock, “But she can take all my cum, can’t she?”

Your tits are bouncing from the force of his fist as he begins to buck his hips into his touch, more of his cock disappears inside you as you choke back a moan. A constant heartbeat throbs in your trachea as your nails dig into the soft skin on his wrist, watching as Kirishima practically loses himself inside your cunt. Messy wisps of red hair stick to his temples as the crude schlick of his hand stroking his cock echos around the room, paired with his guttural groans as he works himself towards his end.

“So pretty like this, so tight, wet— fuck,” He’s losing himself, delirium setting in as he follows his bliss. The familiar sensation rumbles between his thighs as his cock begins to twitch, pressing his palm down on your belly as he cums hard. Spilling rope after rope of warm, thick cum into your tight hole.

Kirishima sounds even better saying your name when it’s at the end of a crescendo, the husky rasp to his tone has your walls clamping down around him as you feel a warmth beginning to consume you from the inside. His cheeks flushed as he gazed down at you, pulling his tip out from your tight cunt to watch his milky cum drool out of you. Your little hole barely stretched, but he can tell the difference. The slight flutter of your walls an indication of just how much he’d managed to fit inside.

And he’d make you take more, you’d take every inch of him soon enough. Of course you would.

“You did so good for me, sweetheart,” Kirishima mumbled, his hands already circling beneath your thighs, “Such a good girl.”

“But it didn’t fit.” You pouted, like an insubordinate child who didn’t get their own way.

“It’s okay, baby.” He cooed, “I’ll make it fit.”

He’s already tugging your thighs apart to hoist your hips up to his eager mouth, his tongue gliding through your slick as he pushes against your drooling hole full of his release.

“Let me clean you up and we’ll try again, yeah sweetheart?”