#literally pops a stiffy at the sight of it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

muffindaddystyles · 3 years ago

Note

More of desi y/n imagines?? I really like all of yours imagines desi and other

DESI PREGO READER DURING QUARANTINE WITH HARRY!!

It was the best, delightful time in Harry’s life. During quarantine when they found out they were two months pregnant and to say the least Harry wouldn’t stop crying into Y/N's chest because he may not thought of becoming a dad so soon but it still cocooned him with such a sanguine feeling – he became a puddle of sweetness at Y/N's toes.

After telling their families. It was bunch of well wishes and advises from them well more of Y/N's mum teaching her a list of their old traditional tricks and eating habits to stay healthy.

Y/N didn’t need a pregnancy pillow at all. Harry fulfilled that role with such dignity and proud, happy to have her bump over his tummy and her thighs slinked around his own while she snored with little wheezy drooly breaths against his cheek wiggling everytime he traces his fingertips under the crescents of her plum tits.

They had all the time to themselves doing face masks made out of turmeric, yogurt and chickpea flour and he is never able to resist but to sneak his palm under bum and nudge her up into his lap to suckle soft kisses at her lips because she looked heart-achingly adorable in shalwar kameez Anne had tailored for her from one of her closest Indian friend for Y/N to wear in her pregnancy (because Y/N’s wardrobe’s already filled with many of them and she finds herself most comfy wearing them).

Her womb starting to get beautiful and big with passing months heralded Harry about her jesting cravings and her tremendous hormones.

He'd drive an hour to get to Waseem's grandma to get some desi makhan (organic butter) for Y/N since she’s Punjabi and it just rotted her mood when her favourite South Asian store down the block was shut most of the time, having dry parathas in brekkie used to be no fun.

“Hmm. Smells so nice.” Harry hums tipping his nose, nostrils expanding greedily to soak into it as Y/N made them passing him a cheeky smile, “It was worth tha’ boring drive,” The corner of his lips denting into a looping smile as he flutters his eyelashes up at her with his chin buried in his palm and elbow bent upon the counter.

“She even taught me how make desi makhan at home!” His chest boasted out proudly and Y/N’s head lulled at her shoulder with giggles slipping past her rosy mouth, she rounded over the counter to reach him and he had his hands already splayed forward to hold her and bring her into him.

“You’re g'na make makhan for me?” Pure love if you ask me so. When Harry rattled his head happily her lips wobbled terribly eyes glossing from feeling lightheaded with his affection and caring assiduousness for such intricate wishes for her spreading in to her bones.

“I love you, so, so, much.” She squished his cheeks between her spread palms and mantled his simpering lips, bushy cheeks and eyes with wet gaspy kisses -- sweeping his tufts of curls away to press her lips against his forehead while he kept on hugging her from belly swaying them ever so lightly.

They'd be binge watching Sharukh Khan's rom-coms on Netflix when she’d whine into his throat about how she’s craving jalebis so bad, she’s ready to walk bare foot to get a takeaway if that’s possible and Harry would just chuckle at her dramatic antics kissing her temple feeling the healthy pulse there and would take her along into the kitchen.

“No need fo’ tha’ baby. We could make them at home.” Harry learned to make jalebis for Y/N when they first started dating -- they had this huge fight and Y/N refused to let him be anywhere near her. Harry knew it shouldn’t have hurt him this much since he considered it just a fling, but when in a lonely bed all he missed was her warmth and her fragrance looming around him as some sort of comforting blanket he realized he wouldn’t be able to spend another night without her.

At, three in the morning he learned how to make jalebis and they might were topsy-turvy leaving stains on his clothes, sticky gooey fingers the sentiment behind it was just so pure and loving.

Y/N still remembers him popping up at her doorstep barely recognisable drenched in rain while he tried to keep the container safe under his hoodie all she was able to do was smash her lips against his wet slippery ones not caring if they tumbled into mud from her literal passionate attack.

“How ‘bout we open a sweets shop instead?” He grinned taking perfectly orange sorbet jalebis out from oil, bunny teeth fully displaying now when she giggled softly wiggling her brows at him, “Touring the world's no more fun ey?” Her heart thumps sadly when a pregnant pause lingered in air and she cooed when his shoulders slumped, fingers fumbling with the tissue paper.

“No more without ye'.” Her arms wrapping around his torso, cheek smushed under his shoulder blade as they let themselves divulge into tranquil calmness.

“Good thing's now you’ll come back to the two of us.” She tried to cheer him up and he just rubbed his stinging eyes with the heels of his palm, sighing then turning towards her to cradle her face to make her look up at him.

“You make me s'happy, y'know that?” His thumb swooning over her bottom lip tenderly and she gave him a playful nip with mischievous eyes, “Defo knows that –- gloats me ego.” She smiles into the their messy kiss tugging onto his flimsy shirt to keep her upright and snacking the plate of delights from behind him.

“Oi! Come back here y'greedy goat!” He'd complain practically stomping behind her to their bedroom.

The mornings are quite an experience for both of them. She’d wake up to the elated sight of him snuggled into her side, suffocating him with his rings of curls all over her face and his swelled up bulge resting heavy against her thighs.

To ease it for him she slithers her hand into his sweats brushing her fingertips along his stiffy length and giggles hoarsely when he stirs and squeezes her tighter whining aimlessly in her neck.

“Harry ...” She whispers knuckling a hand up his soft cheek and he quips lightly with a snore, “Mhmm. He’s asleep.” So, Y/N shrugs and retrieves her hand away from around his throbbing cock that supports a semi after her attention.

“No baby!” He pants out sleepily catching her wrist and guiding her touch under his heavy balls.

“Shh. Shh. Gimme a kiss.” She prods his chin with her nose to petal a warm smooch against his mouth and he pities a mewl panting ‘yeah —- yeah faster’ and ‘mhmm rub my balls uhmm j‐- just like that’ as he rocked his hips against her hand nibbling onto the sheeny skin of her exposed collarbone.

“Stop ..” He growls out pressing his bicep into mattress to lift himself up and skims tiny kisses all over her face when she whines a complain raking her palms from underneath his shirt, “But whyyyyy ....”

“Wanna cum inside you, love. Fill y’up nice and warm.” With a gentle push he presses her into pillows, hauling her leg around him —-- finger pads digging pudgy into her flesh as he lubes her to give her one of the best morning fuck.

#TBH IF YOURE PUNJABI AND READING THIS LESSS FUCK #JK JK JK #I LOVE MY DESI PAKI INDIAN BENGALI SRI LANKAN ASIAN WHEREVER YOURE I LOVE U ALL SM #HARRY STYLES WRITTING #harry styles fanfic #HARRY STYLES FANFICTION #harry styles blurbs #cute harry #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction

91 notes · View notes

shorkbrian · 4 years ago

Text

Enough

My take?

Bakugou asks you out - it honestly comes out of nowhere.

Why would a pro hero be interested in just another paper-pusher working in his agency building?

(NSFW, rough fucking, slight predatorXprey)

You were flattered to say the least, but also intimated. He had stormed up to you at your desk (the man had never spoke to you before, so you didn’t know what to think) and slammed his hands down, rattling your pens in their cup, making you jump.

“You’re gonna go out with me”

“W-what?”

“Did I fucking stutter? Go out with me.”

Had you missed something? You had never talked to the man in your life, had only seen him as he came and went, your work station one of the ones on the same floor as his “office”.

There had been no indication that he was interested in you - there had been no indication that Bakugou even knew you existed.

But you didn’t want to insult the hero, you knew he was proud and brash and maybe not the best at feelings, so maybe he’d been wanting to ask you/ talk to you for a while.

Still, you didn’t feel comfortable saying yes.

Maybe it was the way he stood over your desk, practically leaning into your space, leering down at you with those bright red eyes. You didn’t like his tone, the way his words were a statement instead of a polite request. Almost as if he was ordering you to go out with him... or else.

So you brushed him off, you need some time to think about it, have to see if you have any free time (”I’ll give you a whole damn month off, lets fucking go do something or some shit.”) and you had to quickly come up with poor excuses, ones that both of you could tell were weak, fake.

Bakugou had just set his jaw, before clicking his tongue and storming back into his office, leaving you alone at your desk.

Yeah, that had been a weird day.

The next week at work had been weird too, Bakugou glaring at you whenever you unintentionally looked in his general direction. He caught you in the break room, leaning in the doorway with a cup of coffee clutched in his calloused hands.

The man just smirked, stood still, made you squeeze your way past him even though he was perfectly capable of moving.

He had bumped into you in the elevator, mouth set in a firm line that somehow seemed pleased when the elevator filled up with other people, allowing him to crowd into your space, literally breathe down you neck.

The pro hero managed to “accidentally” trip and spill his cup of water all over you, making your shirt stick to your skin, your cheeks heating up in embarrassment. He had scoffed at you, before you had hurried past him and rushed to the bathroom to try and pat your shirt dry with paper towels.

By the third week of Bakugou being an absolute shithead, you had made your decision - not that you were going to let him know that. He hadn’t asked you about going out any further, and by now you knew, you didn’t want to get involved with that.

Bakugou was too volatile, too unstable and angry and insecure. You wouldn’t be able to handle even trying to connect with him.

So you did your best to avoid him

----

And oh, did Bakugou notice.

He didn’t like being ignored, being fucking teased. Because that’s obviously what you were doing, playing hard to get. Well, he was good at this game, always got his prize, everything that he wanted in the end.

It was clear that you wanted his attention, any attention for that matter. You wore those tight little shirts, buttons almost straining at the seams, the top button undone so Bakugou could see down you shirt every time you bent over in his line of sight.

Those slutty skirts, short and form-fitting, the slit up the back giving teasing glimpses of your legs as you walked. Every skirt you owned made your ass look great, Bakugou enjoyed admireing the view everyday whenever you were turned away from his office, bending over at a co-workers desk to look at some documents or some shit like that.

Your silky stockings that made your legs look so long and soft and smooth, the high heels that clicked with each step. Even though each and every outfit was modest and work-appropriate, your body just wouldn’t quit. You looked hot, Bakugou wasn’t afraid to admit that it was the reason why he had noticed you.

But there were plenty of beautiful women employed by his agency.

You were special.

There was something about you, the spark in your eye, the straightness of your spine. You were bold, weren’t willing to roll over and show your stomach. Bakugou knew you were stubborn and confident and stupidly self-assured.

It intrigued him. You hadn’t thrown yourself at him, respected his space - that’s why you were allowed on the same floor as his office, one of the few desks that was in view of it.

He didn’t care about your existence at first. No, you were just another shitty extra. But damn, he had sure taken notice when you put an idiot in their place.

A fucking mailman had tried to “hand deliver” a package - meaning he was going to try and get up in Bakugou’s face, beg for an autograph, fanboy all over his office and be stupid and annoying and clingy. Bakugou was left wondering why the receptionist had even let him up, in which case damn, he should probably fire her or something.

Bakugou hadn’t even noticed the man until a shout drew his attention away from the boring paperwork on his desk. There you were, hands on your hips, staring down an angry mailman who was flailing his arms like a goddamn octopus. The man was mad, shouting at you about delivering the package, before you promptly snatched it out of his hands.

You set it to the side on your desk, before crossing your arms and turning back to the shocked mailman. You informed him that he could either get out now, or you’d drag him out by his ear, since he wanted to act like a pissy little baby.

And damn, did that make Bakugou pay attention to you.

Unfortunately, after the mailman had left with his tail between his legs, you hadn’t even attempted to take the package to Bakugou. You had asked one of your coworkers to do it, Bakugou had watched you gesture to the box on your desk while talking to one of the other employees. Truthfully, Bakugou was a little disappointed you weren’t going to come into his office.

But from that day on, he was hooked on you.

And now, with you trying to play coy, being a little bitch that couldn’t own up about their feelings? Bakugou was furious with you. He had been man enough to admit his feelings, to ask you out on a date, show his interest. And what had you done? Brushed him off, gave little fucking stupid excuses and tried to smile your way out of things.

Bakugou could see what you were playing at.

Little tease.

He could tease right back.

After weeks of your stupid flirty game, Bakugou was done. It was clear you weren’t interested in him, kept avoiding him and turning the other way whenever you spotted him. Tried to take the stairs in order to not run into him on the elevator, conveniently got sick whenever Bakugou wanted to do trust building exercises with the team working on his floor.

He didn’t need your fucking approval, he could take what he wanted. You thought you were better than him? You were nothing but dirt.

Granted, you were pretty dirt - dirt that made his heart clench tight and his dick twitch whenever he thought of you in your little pencil skirts.

But still dirt.

And for some reason, even though you had subtly turned him down, you still decided to be the worlds biggest tease. Bakugou was going to snap, he was frustrated and horny and angry that you didn’t even have the balls to tell him in person that you didn’t want to go out with him.

All day you’d been acting extra flirty, laughing with your coworker over some stupid shit, the sound making Bakugou’s do little flips. He saw you accidentally drop a stack of papers - bend over to pick them up, perfect little ass sticking out just for him. You had ate your lunch at your desk, coincidentally Bakugou also randomly decided to do the same, watching you lick yogurt off your spoon. God, the way your tongue swirled around the spoon, licking up the creamy white substance had Bakugou popping a stiffy, had him chewing through his vegetables with a little more force than normal.

After lunch you had given a quick stretch of your arms, letting your back curve just right and Bakugou wanted to swear as you let out a breathy little moan as you stretched out a sore muscle, no one else around to hear it but him.

Fuck.

Getting through the rest of the work day was hell, Bakugou remaining seated at his desk so he wouldn’t have to be bothered with trying to hide his boner when he stood up. He had to watch you welcome your coworkers back from lunch, smile at one of them, let out a stupid little giggle at some stupid shit one of the fucking stupid little employees said.

He tried to put you out of his mind, focus back on his work. He was managing to do it pretty well actually, until his bladder got the best of him and he had to make a trip to the bathroom. Luckily by then his boner had gone down.

There weren’t many people on this floor, no need for separate bathrooms - just one single room, unisex.

Bakugou knocked on the door waiting barely a second before pulling it open, almost blowing up the damn thing as someone practically fell onto him.

“Sorry! I was just opening the door and I didn’t hear you knock…” You trailed off as you realized who was attached to the arms steadying you.

Bakugou glared at you, not listening. He was focused more on the fact that your breasts were squished up against his chest, could feel your rapid heartbeat, was so close that he could see the bright little specks of color in your eyes as you gazed up at him with a shocked expression.

With a flurry of movement, you pushed yourself away from your boss, stumbled backwards, and promptly fell flat on your ass.

Now normally, Bakugou would burst out laughing, or maybe sneer and goad you about being clumsy and dumb, but not now.

Not when he had caught a glimpse up your skirt as you fell away from him.

HIs heart was beating so fast in his chest, Bakugou didn’t even register your quick “So sorry sir!” as you scrambled to your feet, hurriedly trying to straighten out your clothes. He could only stare at you, try to control his breathing, stop himself from jumping you right then and there.

Were you serious? Teasing him like this, leading him on, being an absolute slut with no remorse? He could barely believe you. As you dashed past him, cheeks flaming, Bakugou watched you go, a plan forming in his head.

He was going to teach you a lesson.

——

Bakugou waited until the end of the work day, 4:55, before exiting his office and stomping over to your desk.

“Hey, I need you in my office in twenty minutes.”

You looked up at him, confused, brow furrowed. “Bakugou-san, it’s almost five.”

Bakugou could care less, sneering. “And? I need you to stay later. You and I are gonna have a little discussion about your compliance with company rules about work attire.” You turned bright red, glancing quickly down at your outfit. “Of course, I can talk to you now if you’d like, out where all your coworkers can hear me tearing you a new one. …Your choice.”

Glaring up at him, you shook your head, spitting out “I’ll see you in twenty minutes Bakugou-san.”

He smirked as he turned away from you, swaggering back into his office. The man liked your little spark of defiance, the stubbornness hiding deep down.

The two of you would be having a lot of fun in a little while.

There wasn’t much more for him to do except wait, scroll through his phone, boots knocked up on his desk, leaning back in his office chair, hand behind his head. It was almost amusing, watching you say goodbye to your coworkers as they left, pretending to straighten your desk and finish up whatever you had been working on.

Ten minutes passed, Bakugou watching you squirm out of the corner of his eye as each subsequent “goodbye” of your peers left you more secluded with your boss.

Twenty minutes passed and you got up, straightening out your skirt before coming to knock loudly at his office door, pushing it open before he could acknowledge your presence. He raised an eyebrow at the subtle show of disrespect - maybe you knew what game he was playing, were trying to rile him up even more? Every little play of yours made his blood burn hotter.

You sat down in the chair across his desk, folding your hands in your lap, tucking your feet to the side - the very picture of professional employee. Bakugou kicked his boots off his desk, leaning forward over his desk.

He didn’t say anything, just watched you, narrowing his eyes as you lifted your chin, staring straight back at him.

“If you had me stay late just so you could try to intimidate me, that’s disappointing.“ Bakugou shrugged at you, and you almost snorted before continuing. “I’m curious as to why I’m here - my work attire is always appropriate, I complete my work on time, there’s no reason for complaints. What am I not doing for you? I’m a good employee.”

“Well, for starters-“ Bakugou stood up, rolling his neck, relishing in the subsequent pops from his bones releasing stress. “You could stop always being such a fuckin’ tease.”

The look of confusion on your face was priceless.

“It’d be nice if we could get this game over with too - much as I like playing, I wanna get to the part where my cock is down your throat.”

Mouth dropped open in shock, you quickly snapped it shut, a blush rising on your cheeks. “What game? This is inappropriate Bakugou-san-“

“What game?” Bakugou scoffed. “This little game of cat-and-mouse. Damn, didn’t take you as the dense type. Are you just trying to get me to punish you? You’d like that, wouldn’t you - little slut.”

Bakugou knew you weren’t playing a game with him, knew that your teasing was unintentional. But your obliviousness made him hard, and it was fun watching you rocket to your feet, indignant at his words. Before you could even get a response out, Bakugou spoke again, starting to walk around his desk towards you.

“Seriously, don’t act fucking stupid. If you want me to spank you so damn bad, all you gotta do is ask.”

He held out his hands, as if it was ridiculous that he had to tell you this. The blond could tell you were starting to get what was about to happen, eyes flickering down to the steadily-growing bulge in Bakugou’s pants. He could see the wheels turning in your head, the reasons he wanted to talk to you after everyone had left for the day, why he had been such a creep these past few weeks.

You bolted.

Heels clicking against the floor, only able to take short steps in your pencil skirt, brain blank with fear.

This was exactly how Bakugou had wanted this to go.

He wanted to chase you down, pin you despite how you struggle, and fuck you like an animal.

It was easy for him to cut you off from the elevator, leaping over desks and sliding in front of the doors before you could reach them. With a frustrated cry, you whirled on your heel, dashed towards the stairwell. Bakugou beat you there too, lunging at your form and pushing you to the side before you could open the door.

You stumbled, a heel coming off in the process. You shucked off the other shoe, taking a second to throw it at your boss. Bakugou laughed as he dodged the strong throw, your heel thudding uselessly against the wall behind him.

“Keep running bitch, you won’t get far - there’s no where to go.” He taunted.

You barely waited a moment before taking off across the office floor again, able to go faster without difficult shoes. You were heading back towards Bakugou’s office, the man realized. A smart move - the door locked, there was a phone you could use to call for help. Too bad you wouldn’t even reach the door.

The pro-hero grabbed your shoulder, pulled to whip you around to face him, making you stumble backwards. Without missing a beat, he slapped you across the face, palm burning. That wasn’t part of the plan, but Bakugou was worked up, running on adrenaline and emotions. Your head whipped to the side from the force of the slap, shocked.

Taking advantage of your sudden stillness, Bakugou grabbed your waist, lifted you up and into his arms. Your arms were flailing now, trying to punch and hit and scratch but even with your strength you were barely a nuisance to the pro-hero.

Here’s the part that he had trouble with - where was the best place to bend you over? Your desk? Should he shove you to the ground and rip off your skirt? Up against the wall where he could thrust up into you with wild abandon?

On his own desk?

That sounded good.

The man marched to his office, kicked open the door and then kicked it shut, wincing when you landed a solid kick to his knee that twisted the joint a bit too far to the left. “Goddamn, you still gotta lot of energy? That’s gonna change, I’m gonna fuck you until you pass the fuck out.”

You shrieked at his admission, doubling your efforts to try to get the man to loosen his hold on you. Bakugou dropped you onto his desk so you were sitting upright, wrenched your thighs apart, stood between them as he wrapped a hand in your hair and pulled your neck back as he pushed himself flush against your body.

“Mm, you feel real damn good. Like the way you struggle ’n shit - rubs just right over my dick. Feel how big I am? I’m gonna fuck you open with it.”

He could hear your choked whine, still too proud to beg. No, you were too stubborn and proud to beg and plead right away. Bakugou knew you would after he broke you down though, had you drooling over his desk.

The man used this moment to bite at your neck, relishing your gasp as he bite down roughly on the side, before quickly sucking over the red indentions of his teeth. Your hands were on him, one wrapped around the wrist of the hand wrapped in your hair, the other hand pushing against his chest as if that was going to make him go away or some shit.

His hand not wrapped in your hair fisted into your shirt, uncaring of the fabric as he flexed his arm, literally tore it off your upper half. Bakugou didn’t have the patience to take it off properly; He had waited too long for this, he was almost lightheaded with how much blood was rushing through his dick right now.

You were wearing a simple bra, nothing fancy - which was good, cause Bakugou ripped that off too, leaving you bare from the waist up. He was breathing heavily, panting as he quickly glanced at your body, taking in your soft skin, the rise and fall of your chest as you squirmed and whined and tried to escape from his grip. He liked the way you leaned your upper half away from him, following the hand pulling your hair so it wouldn’t pull your strands, subsequently pushing your lower half against your boss.

The blond groped roughly at your tits, giving quick little slaps to each one to watch them jiggle.

“You have been such a fucking tease, you know that? Wearing these tight outfits, little shirts that don’t even cover your tits. Every time you bend down I can see right down ‘em, see what the tops of your tits look like.” With a grunt, Bakugou bent his head, biting roughly at the top of your chest. “Makes me wanna fuck your tits, spit all over ‘em until they’re dripping, make you hold ‘em together around my dick. God, that’d be hot.”

He let go of your hair, hands falling to your waist to pull you closer so he could grind his bulge between your legs. With him not pulling your head back, you could focus on what he was doing, fight back.

Bakugou felt the burning pain on his cheek, then heard the sound, then registered that you had just slapped him. Fucking bitch. With a growl, Bakugou grabbed your face, squishing your cheeks painfully in-between his fingers, bringing your face forward so he could press his forehead against yours.

“Try that shit again, see what happens. I can assure you it won’t be fuckin’ pretty. I don’t mind, but you probably would.” He threatened. Your eyes shined, not wet with tears, still sparking with the fire of defiance.

Bakugou wanted that spark. Did he want to extinguish it? Fan it into a blazing fire? He didn’t know, he just wanted.

He glanced at your lips quickly, instinctively licking his own before making eye contact again. He couldn’t resist - didn’t want to. Bakugou surged forward, capturing your lips with his own, immediately biting and growling into your mouth, using the hand on your waist to move you against himself, humping into your clothed pussy.

When he pulled away, you were gasping, a string of saliva dripping down your chin.

The blond gripped at his throbbing cock through his pants, groaning. His hands moved to your skirt while pulling you to your feet, clumsily fiddling with the zipper in the back, trying to tug it down with one hand while the other kneaded into your chest.

With how you were positioned, it’s no surprise when he felt you bite down onto the side of his neck.

Bakugou laughed, tapering off into a moan as the pain bloomed in his neck.

Fuck, that felt good. He didn’t mind you biting at him, even if you were doing it to try and get away from him, and not out of lust.

Finally beating the zipper on your skirt, Bakugou stripped off the garment, whistling when you were revealed to him, no panties covering your sex. There you stood, nothing but smooth, sheer panty-hose covering your legs.

Bakugou flipped you around, shoved your face into his desk. He needed to be inside you now, he was done with games, done with the teasing, done with the dirty talk.

You were bent at the waist, ass up in the air. The blond quickly undid his pants, pulling down his boxers just so his dick could be pulled out. There was already precum beading at the tip, and Bakugou hissed as he gave his member a quick stroke. Letting go of his cock, the man took hold of your panty-hose, right at the crotch, smirking as you wiggled around, yelling profanities.

Damn, you really were perfect for him.

The panty-hose ripped easily, a large hole that exposed your cunt, the barest hint of wetness in between your folds. The blond didn’t want to wait to prep you, simply spat into his hand, gave his cock a quick stroke to cover it in his saliva, then lined himself up, cock nudging at your pussy.

“Relax your fucking hole bitch, this’ll hurt less.” He paused, surprising himself. Usually he wasn’t so considerate. “Or not, again, your choice.”

And with a snicker, the man began slowly pushing in, grunting as he was immediately met with tight resistance. But Bakugou wasn’t a quitter, and what he wanted, he got.

It took several minutes - minutes of you beginning to cry, beg for him to stop, shrieking at each new inch that sunk into you. Bakugou on the other hand had his head thrown back, calloused hands gripping your hips tightly to prevent you from moving anywhere but back and further onto his cock.

And then he was bottomed out, balls pressed against the top of your pussy, the pressure teasing your clit.

“Jesus Christ, You’re such a damn tease, but fuck, this pussy’s worth the work.”

You squirmed, before stilling as you gasped, able to physically /feel/ your boss’s cock twitching inside of you.

Bakugou didn’t waste any time getting to work.

“You have been riling me up every damn week. I fucking hate you and you’re slutty little body, making me all hot n shit- haven’t been able to focus on anything. Stupid bitch.”

He was thrusting into you, pushing you across the desk before pulling you back onto his cock.

“Bet this is what you wanted the whole time. It’s why you brushed me off, huh? Ignored me like that? You just wanted me to hold you down and take what I fuckin’ want.”

Deep down, Bakugou knew that wasn’t true. It was clear by the way you struggled, your pathetic cries, you whimpering “No, no I’ll rip your fucking throat out!” On each thrust. But even deeper down, Bakugou didn’t care whether you wanted this or not.

He did, and that’s what mattered.

His abs were clenching, pleasure shooting through his gut as you tightened around his cock, practically milking him. The suction was heavenly, made him groan, made him relax down against your body, sprawling to cover your back.

Like this, Bakugou let his arms rest over your shoulders, his hands grabbing the other side of the desk. Your hips were trapped against his, pinned to the desk. There was no where for you to go, you could barely breathe with the man’s weight on you.

But it let Bakugou hammer into you like a stallion.

You whined as his speed increased, aided by his grip on the desk, his hips working furiously, skin loudly slapping against skin.

With a growl, Bakugou buried his face in between your shoulder blades, mouthing roughly at the skin there, panting and growling and groaning like an animal as he fucked you.

Fuck, he was close, fuck.

With one last thrust, his balls tightened up, his dick jumping. He quickly pulled out, immediately reaching his hand down so he could fuck into his fist, and within seconds the man was cumming over your back.

Fuck, that felt fucking amazing.

When he was able to think clearly again, actually bring air into his lungs, Bakugou looked down at you, laying limp against his desk. There was a shine of wetness between your thighs, your pussy glistening and clenching around nothing.

“Aw, poor little tease wants to cum?”

He could tease too, giving your ass a quick, light slap. With an embarrassed shudder, you nodded imperceptibly. Bakugou chuckled, bringing his fingers down to the puffy little nub nestled at the top of your pussy. “If you want me to make you cum, you gotta say so. Don’t try and tell me you aren’t turned on’ you’re a shitty-ass liar.”

You trembled, before managing to spit out “Make me cum.” Bakugou shuddered, loving the hate filling your voice, the emotion. You sounded like you wanted to kill him, strangle him with your bare hands, and yet you were still begging for him to make you cum. How pathetic.

“Mm, too damn bad-“ Bakugou pulled his fingers away from your cunt, slapping your ass again, a little harsher this time. “Maybe next time I’ll let you cum. Teasing sluts don’t get to have shit, gotta earn it first.”

Maybe next time he’d fuck your throat.

#yandere thoughts #yandere bakugo katsuki #yandere bakugou #yandere bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou #yanderebakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou #bnha #tw noncon #predator #prey

921 notes · View notes

mikkomacko · 5 years ago

Text

Sweet As Honey 15

Harry remembers this day perfectly last year. How he'd woken up to y/n starfished across the bed, a leg and an arm thrown over him and her impossibly full belly peeking out from where her pajama shirt got bunched up in her sleep. The sun was barely rising, and Harry still blames his early rousing on the 'gut feeling' he had about Arlo being born that day, but y/n knows he was just excited about his birthday and most likely woke up with a stiffy. He had rubbed his palm over her belly, hoping to feel their son kick against his palm but it was even too early for him. Harry woke y/n with dozens of kisses dotted to her face and belly, and his intentions became clear when he nibbled on her shoulder. Y/n had sleepily wished him a happy birthday, moaning softly under his lethargic kisses and somehow he managed to undress her without any complaints from his wife. He remembers literally being inches away from burying himself in her when she'd shot up like she'd been punched in the stomach, smacking into his chest with a gasp. Before he could ask what was wrong her thighs (and a little bit of him) were wet as were the bed sheets. And he remembers scrambling to the hospital, throwing the overnight bag over his shoulders after he'd thrown on random articles of clothing and helped y/n dress. Remembers rushing to the hospital, hands tight on the wheel as he listened to y/n harshly pant and whimper through contractions. He remembers sitting through hours of nothing but contractions and ice chips, remembers going a bit light headed when delivery started and he could see blood on the doctor's hands. And he'll always remember the sound of his son crying for the first time.

Harry thought that he'd spend every birthday for the rest of his life only being able to think about how it felt to hold Arlo for the first time, but that thought's completely out the window today, because y/n's got a firm hand on his cock and her mouth latched onto the junction where his thigh and pelvis meet.

"Fuck me," he groans, eyes squeezing shut and hands immediately flying to grip her hair. Her hum vibrates through his skin, obviously pleased that he's finally woken up. A loud pop sounds through the room as she pulls her mouth from him, skin throbbing with a blossoming hickey.

"Rain check until tonight?" She cheekily asks, and the curse on the tip of tongue morphs into a heavy moan when her lips move around the head of his heavily leaking prick. He finds himself nodding, lifting his head up to peer down at his wife. Once their eyes meet, his wet and bleary with sleep and arousal, y/n drops further down him until her hand meets her mouth.

"Bloody-"he throws his head back on the pillows, eyes squeezing shut and hips flexing up into her mouth. The hum that resonates through her tickles across his dick, body racking with pleasure. He can't stop the guttural groan that leaves his mouth, brain swirling.

His feet find the mattress, hips propelling up and shoving his cock further down her throat. He feels her hands tighten on his hips and her throat spasm, but like always, she takes him with no complaints. He lets up, knowing he can't be balls deep in her mouth as much as he'd like to because his poor girl needs to breathe. Hips falling back to the mattress, he whimpers softly as he tongue works around his head. His thighs twitch, waiting for her to sink down on him again.

"S'okay H, go ahead." Her voice is a little rough and sleepy, but she speaks to him firmly and moves her hands down to grip his thighs. Lips parted and awaiting his next move, Harry doesn't waste a second in guiding himself back down her throat. He takes it slow at first, not wanting to hurt her or make her uncomfortable. It's not until her eyes have dropped shut, staggering pants leaving her nose does Harry snap.

Head thrown back on the pillows, teeth clenched shut to keep from being too loud with their son only a room over, Harry fucks into her mouth with all he's got. His mouth can't even form anything other than guttural groans, but he hopes y/n knows that he wants to tell her he loves her, that's she's the most perfect wife in the world. And he thinks the same may be coming from her with the way she's tenderly stroking over the tattoos on his thighs and tummy, almost encouragingly. She offering silent praises to him for fucking her throat.

One of her hands drop to softly cup his balls, fingertips running over the sensitive skin, and that's what does Harry in. He stills, hips twitching against her mouth as his cock shoots ropes of cum into her. Harry feels like he's gone to heaven. He literally woke up to y/n sucking his soul out in the best way possible. What a way to go, he thinks happily, slowly falling back to the mattress. Y/n stays latched to the head of him, mouthing at his still drippy slit until he's calmed down to actually open his eyes again.

She makes her way back up his body, dotting his bare skin with wet little kisses as she goes. He tilts his head to the side when she reaches his neck, purring as she leaves a sucking kiss there. She moves up his chest, knees straddling his tummy and peering down at him. The sight makes him groan. He's been welcomed to heaven with her.

Eyes glossy but happy, lips swollen and red with spot on them, and hair tussled from his fingers, she smiles sweetly at him. "Happy birthday bub."

Harry closes their mouths in a needy kiss, stomach clenching pleasantly when he tastes himself on her. "I love you darling." Harry mutters against her lips, tangling his fingers in her hair again.

"I love you Harry." His head thumps back against the pillows, smiling all dopey at her. If his still throbbing cock is anything to go by, he knows she loves him.

Straightening out the table cloth he's thrown over the folding table, Harry looks up just in time to see Arlo smack a balloon out of y/n's mouth, the rubber material flying through the air and sputtering.

"Heeey," she whines, as he giggles happily and Harry can't help but chuckle too. The balloon lands in a heap at his feet, and he bends down to retrieve it and toss it back at his wife. She jostles in her lap, glaring dramatically at him. "you're ruining all of mumma's hard work!"

Arlo ghosts his fingers over her lips, eyes wide as if looking at the brightest star. Harry's pretty sure he looks at her the same way. "Mumma,"

Just as Harry expected, y/n gulps, and her breath trembles as tears well in her eyes. He tries not to laugh as she squeezes Arlo into her chest. "You're getting so big," she cries mournfully, "my baby boy is not a baby anymore!"

Arlo grunts against her chest, little arms wrapping as far around her as they can, and Harry decides it's time for him to swoop in before she hugs him so tight he pops.

"Of course he's still a baby," a Harry reassures, picking Arlo up of her lap and settling him on his hip. "he's our baby, huh? Always gonna be our baby aren't ya?"

Y/n sniffles sadly as Arlo gurgles what Harry thinks is supposed to be the word baby. He's getting better at speaking, trying out more words, but there's only a few he can really say, the main ones being daddy, mumma, and peas. Harry couldn't be more proud. In fact, he thinks those are the only three words Arlo needs to learn.

"How am I the one crying?" Y/n laughs sheepishly, wiping her cheeks. "I thought you'd be the mess today."

Harry makes an offended sound, bouncing Arlo in his arms. "Me? Never!" Arlo smacks his palm against Harry's jaw, smiling at his pout. "Big, strong daddy never cries." Y/n doesn't have to laugh because Arlo does it for her.

"You cried the whole day after he was born."

Unable to come up with an argument, Harry changes the subject. "You just keep blowing up balloons. Us birthday boys are gonna go get in the shower." He turns to the stairs just as y/n throws an empty balloon at his back, both of them giggling as he dashes up the stairs.

"Gotta look extra nice today, okay? Give mumma something to brag about."

Arlo babbles, splaying his fingers out over the swallows on Harry's bare chest. He digs a diaper out of the dresser drawer, tossing it on the bed before placing Arlo down on the sheets, towel still bunched around him. Harry quickly slips a pair of boxers and grey trousers, keeping an eye on his son to make sure he doesn't take a tumble off the bed or anything.

"Alright, no more naked baby," Harry lays Arlo down, tickling the bottom of his foot when he shoves it up towards Harry's face. He gets a deep belly laugh in response, Arlo laying back and smiling up at Harry, happily letting him put his diaper on. Harry had set aside their clothes last night, hanging them off to the side in his closet where y/n wouldn't spot them because he wanted to surprise her, and it makes his job of getting Arlo dressed easier.

Matching grey pants with black suspenders attached, a little white button up, and a dark green bowtie to top it off. It may be a little over the top, but Harry will always treat his family like royalty, especially on their birthday. And the same goes for him, he reminds himself, pulling his own black suspenders up and straightening his tie.

Arlo sits on the sink by him while he brushes his teeth, and then he uses his finger to rub some baby toothpaste on the few teeth Arlo's got, finally dabbing some cologne on his wrists (and a tiny bit on Arlo's too).

Harry holds him up in front of the mirror, grinning proudly at the baby that looks like a miniature him. "We look good mate." He nods, patting Arlo's bum when he grumbles an agreement. They head downstairs, Harry leaving the gates open since Arlo will be watched all day, knowing he won't be able to get close to climbing the stairs on his own without someone swooping in.

Theo is yapping at the front door, and Harry can hear y/n chatting excitedly with whoever's arrived. Balloons have now been hung up, tied in a row the crosses the living room and dining room, framed by green and yellow streamers. Plastic plates and bowls designed to look like footballs sit on the serving table, surrounding a cake in the shape of a Packers logo. HAPPY BIRTHDAY HARRY AND ARLO is piped in thick white icing on it, a big #1 candle for Arlo and a #26 for Harry.

"There they are!" Harry turns, almost tripping on Theo who's pawing at his pant leg excitedly. Kate and Scott greet the two boys excitedly, wishing them both a happy birthday with a hug. Kate attempts to pry her godson off of Harry's hip, but Arlo grumbles threateningly, the sound bordering on a cry and turn his head into Harry's shoulder.

"Good to know he's still attached to you like a leech." Scott jokes, clapping Harry on the back with a laugh. Harry shrugs at Kate's pout, smiling sympathetically.

"Give him a bit. He's not used to sharing his house with everyone."

"I think you mean he's not used to sharing you." Kate mumbles, reaching down to pick up Theo. The pup wiggles happily, licking her hand. "When did ya get this little beast?"

Y/n comes moves around them into the kitchen, Scott following her as she offers him a drink. "Christmas gift for this little beast." He laughs, jostling Arlo. That earns him another grumble.

Scott and y/n return, a beer in his hand and a cup of iced tea for Kate. Y/n, now noticing her boys, falters when she sees they're matching and Harry beams. Until her eyes well with tears again, and then he's trying not to laugh as he hugs her.

"We're having an emotional day," Harry says through surpressed giggles, finding the bewildered look on Scott's face to be even funnier than his wife. Y/n whines, pinching his side until he yelps.

The front door opening distracts everyone from y/n, who's trying to stop crying, and the obnoxious shout of "oi oi!" from the door let's Harry know that the Tomlinson's have arrived. Scott and Kate step up to greet them, giving Harry and Arlo a minute to smack kisses to his wife's face until she's giggling.

Steve and Marie come in with trays of food, sticking to the football theme with hot dogs, hot wings, and burgers. The food gets set up, and Harry and Arlo are passed around for hugs and kisses while y/n let's Theo out back. Chloe stacks gifts in the living room, most of which are for Arlo but Harry really doesn't care. His best gift is sat in his arms wearing a matching bow tie and playing with the buttons on his shirt.

It's a bit overwhelming when Nick, Lionel, and Liam all show up together, the three men being more rambunctious together than usual, especially when they see Louis is here as well. Harry's so caught up in trying to get Arlo to say hello to Liam that he misses Gemma and Anne arriving until y/n calls out to them. He knew they were coming, they were so excited when they received their invitation, but seeing them step into his house to celebrate his birthday for the first time in ten years is like the first drop of a roller coaster.

"Well aren't you two cute," Gemma says in greeting, reaching up to flick his bow tie. He rolls his eyes, noticing the wrapped present Anne is holding.

"Oh, you can put tha' over there." Harry says, using the present as a distraction from hugging either of them. He ignores the suddenly overwhelming need to cry, swallowing thickly and stroking his fingers up and down Arlo's back.

"Happy birthday you two." Anne says shyly, lips twitching in a nervous smile. Harry thanks her, calling Gemma away from y/n so he can take them for introductions with Kate and Scott. Anne finds a spot with Steve and Marie, and Gemma settles in with Chloe and Kate. Charlie runs over to try and play with Arlo, but he's still upset with the thought of not being carried around by Harry so he sends his niece and nephew out back to play with Theo. Steve ends up following, being a sucker for dogs.

Harry meets up with y/n in the kitchen where she's making more punch. "Thank you for the party darling." He murmurs, coming up behind her to press a kiss to her cheek.

"Don't have to thank me. I've been waiting for an excuse to actually throw you a party." She teases, turning around to wrap her arms around his waist. Arlo lays his head on Harry's chest, watching his mom fondly. She leans in, kissing his chubby cheek.

"Last year at this time I was feeding ya ice chips while you cried." Harry whispers, eyes stinging with tears again. Y/n notices, but she doesn't draw attention to it. She knows how swamped he must feel with everyone being here today, especially Anne and Gemma. He was so heartbroken when they didn't show up last year that it's probably a little much to finally have them here. Not to mention the fact that the first year of his baby's life has gone so fast.

"S'your fault. Gave our son your big head."

Harry laughs wetly, pecking the crown of Arlo's head and then y/n's forehead. He should feel bad for not being out with the guests right now, but it feels so nice to have a moment of just the four of them that he doesn't care. Like Arlo, he doesn't want to share either.

Harry and Arlo are sat at the head of the table, the Packers cake placed in front of them and candles lit. He feels a bit odd being under such heavy attention, but he doesn't worry about it too much because Arlo starts crying as soon as they start singing. He burrows in Harry's chest, the miniature cake hat that matches Harry's falling off his head as he wails. Harry bounces him, laughing a bit. Arlo doesn't calm down until the signing has stopped, still hiccuping when Harry turns him around for a picture and then blows out the candles. The cheering makes him grunt angrily, slinking lowly in Harry's lap.

"You used to cry on your birthday too." Gemma tell him as y/n passes around cake. Marie starts the tale of Louis doing it too, claiming it's a 'boy thing' because y/n loved being sang to on her birthday. That makes Harry smile, knowing that to this day she blushes and smiles all pretty on her birthday.

Him and Arlo share their slice of cake, majority of it ending up as mush on Arlo's face. He does enjoy the frosting, so much so that he ends up smearing it all across Harry's face trying to feed some to him. He has to take off his tie that's had cake dropped on it, and Arlo's button up and tie end up in the laundry room as well.

They move to the living room for presents, Arlo receiving an abundance of toys and clothes from everyone, but much to Harry's surprise, his favorite gift comes from Anne and Gemma. It's an old baby bath towel, the corner turning into a good that makes a beaming frog. The fabric is worn but soft, and Arlo immediately throws it over his head with a squeal. The picture in the box is what makes Harry freeze.

It's him. Him when he couldn't have been much older than Arlo is now, sat in a diaper on his father's lap. He's got the towel thrown over his head, face scrunched up in a smile that matches his father. Harry had forgotten about the towel, and he hadn't known that this picture even existed.

"What is it?" Louis asks, nudging Harry with his foot. Harry hesitates, not sure if he wants to share the special photo with everyone. But then Arlo crawls into Harry's lap, eyes barely visible under the too big hood and he smiles.

"Daddy," he coos, chubby fingers playing with the buttons on his shirt again and Harry realizes that if this were him and Arlo, he'd like to think his son would proudly show him off.

"S'me and my dad." Harry grins shyly, handing the photo over. He doesn't look up as it's passed around, not wanting to see everyone's pitiful looks or sympathetic smiles. Instead he brings Arlo to his chest, hiding his nose in his babies little shoulder. Arlo's arms wrap around his head tightly and his legs slink around his torso.

"Daddy," he says again, as if telling the whole world that this is his father and he's the absolute best father ever.

"Yeah bug," he murmurs, "s'me. And I love you so much."

Harry feels good as he throws another crushing hit to Liam's hand. He's not tired, nothing in his body seriously aches, he's still focused. And it's refreshing. He feels like he hasn't fought in years, spending weeks resting after his concussion and then taking time off for his family. Maybe he should've trained more, gotten more ready for such a serious tournament, but he thinks the time off did him well. His family is healing, his son just turned one, and his beautiful wife is growing bigger with his baby each day. He's got everything together.

"That's it H!" Liam encourages, absorbing each hit with only a grimace on his face. After all these years, his palms are used to taking the brunt of Harry's beatings. "Finish it!" Fueled by the cheer, Harry throws a few more quick but hard punches, knowing the final hit would've been a KO.

He smirks, rolling out his tense shoulders as Liam shakes out his hands. He moves off the mat, loosening his gloves with his teeth and peeling them off. He flexes his taped knuckles, accepting the towel Liam tosses him to dry off his sweaty torso and neck.

"Cool down on treadmill?" Liam asks but Harry knows it's an order. He gulps down some water, tossing the towel to the side and heading to the treadmill. He keeps the speed low, lightly jogging as he removes the tape on his hands.

"Ready for this weekend?" Liam asks him, leaning against the wall in front of Harry. He crosses his arms over his chest, nodding at Harry’s speed approvingly.

"Yeah. I feel really good, think I can give Martin a good fight." Harry tries not to be too prideful but it's hard when he finally feels like his life is becoming what he's always wanted it to be.

Liam chuckles, leaning over to check Harry's heart rate on the machine. "What about the missus and the babies? Gonna do okay without them?"

Harry's smile falls, eyebrows dropping at the reminder. The fight this weekend is out of town, two nights before he'll get to come home and it just didn't seem right for the whole family to go. Arlo can't go to the fight, which means they'd have to take a babysitter (Anne and Gemma most likely) but there's really no reason to take everyone. And y/n and Harry are still too attached to leave him for two nights, meaning y/n stays home too. Besides, she should be getting restful, comfortable sleeps in their bed at home. Not some hotel in a rowdy city after sitting on the rough benches in an old gym.

"I'll be fine," Harry says, most trying to assure himself. "s'not my first overnight fight without them."

He lowers his speed to just a walk, chest feeling a little heavier. He knows he can handle two nights without his family, but he doesn't really want to. He hates waking up in a bed without y/n, and he knows it'll be worse now that's she pregnant again. He's not just leaving one baby behind, he's leaving two.

"It'll go by quicker than you think." Liam promises, and Harry shuts off the treadmill, stepping down. He follows Liam back to the bench, praying that the rundown for this weekend goes by quickly. He's eager to shower and head home so he can snuggle up with his wife and babies.

Harry's crying, and it's pathetic, and he knows that. But he couldn't care less. Y/n has got Arlo on her hip, looking so small and cute with his two babies, and he just wants to wrap the three of them up and never let go. But he can't. Because he's got a fight to get to and a family to provide for. You can set them up for life, he reminds himself as he pecks Arlo's forehead and y/n's belly.

"I'll call you when I get there, yeah?" Harry mumbles, tongue feeling heavy in his mouth.

Y/n nods. "And before bed?"

"And in the morning." He promises, eyelashes fluttering when she reaches out to brush a stray curl off his forehead. Y/n jostles Arlo on her hip, and Harry turns to him with a fake stern look on his face, not wanting to crack under the piercing frown his son is giving him.

"You be good for mumma, okay? Man of the house this weekend. Gotta make sure her and the bub are eatin' and sleepin' good. Don't want to come home to any messes." Arlo grunts, obviously displeased with his dad's departure and not wanting to hear the 'responsibilities' Harry's bestowed upon him.

"Daddy," Arlo whimpers, reaching out to Harry with a pout on his pink lips. He shouldn't, but Harry cradles his baby to his chest anyway for a last minute snuggle.

"I know baby," he whispers, "but s'only for a couple days. I'll be back before ya know it." He lifts Arlo away from his neck, taking in his pouty baby. The light onesie he's wearing and the clear skies above make his eyes shine with a baby blue glimmer, and Harry wishes he could just look at him forever.

The longing look Harry's give his son is heartbreaking, and it's even worse when Arlo returns the same gaze back. He grumbles something that sounds like 'miss' and Harry takes that as Arlo letting him know that he'll miss his daddy. "I'll miss you too bub, but you know I love you more than anything."

Arlo's tiny lip wobbles sadly at the soft spoken sentiment, and Harry immediately brings him back to his chest. It's the first little cry that makes Harry's eyes burn with tears and he squeezes his eyes shut as he splatters kisses to Arlo's head.

"We'll be okay Harry," y/n comforts, taking the wailing baby from Harry. Arlo curls into her chest, little body wracking with sobs. His own lip wobbles, y/n cupping his cheek to assure him that they'll be okay.

"I love you," he swears, leaning into to kiss her deeply. She happily kisses him back, mumbling the promise back to him. With one last fleeting kiss to each of them, Harry drags his feet towards Nick car that's holding a very patient Nick and Liam. His bag's already been loaded in the trunk, so he climbs in the backseat, waving sadly at his family on the doorstep. Y/n returns it, smiling sympathetically as he shuts the door. He tries not to look at them as Liam quickly drives away, not wanting to give Harry an opportunity to jump out. It's not until the gate leading up to the driveway shuts behind them that Harry scrambles for his phone, clicking y/n's contact.

"Hiya love," she greets cheekily, "miss me already?"

"Yes," Harry answers honestly, "and I forgot to remind you to lock the doors and set the alarm. I'll check the gates and stuff."

Y/n giggles at his protectiveness. "I will Harry." She promises, knowing he worries. Every time he's ever had to leave her home alone he's taken the time to remind her to be safe and let her know that he'll be watching over them when he can.

"Good," he murmurs, wiping at the tear that dribbles down his cheek. He can hear Theo yip happily, followed by a wet giggle and his chest feels lighter knowing that Arlo's being cheered up already. The dog was a damn good idea.

"There's a bag in the backseat with you-" Harry looks over, finding the reusable bag sitting on the floor of the car, "s'got some stuff for the trip for you."

He hauls it onto the seat, smiling when he finds his favorite snacks and banana smoothie, including a container of peas and mashed potatoes. "I love you." He breathes, smiling when he finds a travel sized blanket and one of her the pillow cases for their bed folded up.

"I love you too,"

"I'm gonna make you proud." He swears, wiping at his wet cheeks.

"You already have Harry." Y/n assures him, and he can't help but choke out another sob. He's always been quite the crybaby when it comes to his family. He loves them so much and he's got a chance to take care of them for the rest of their lives, all starting with the fight tomorrow night. He's not going to let this one get away from him.

#sweet as honey #Smut #sweet as Honey smut #Harry Styles #dad harry styles #daddy harry styles #boxer harry styles #husband harry Styles #harry styles au #one direction #fluff

355 notes · View notes

namelessthirst · 5 years ago

Text

Your Good Boys

[Sub Izu and Sub Denki earn a good time from you. Need I say more??

Izuku Midoriya x Denki Kaminari x Reader

2k and some change

Ao3

Creampies, Bondage, Urethral Play, Erotic Electrostimulation, Gaping, Belly Bulge, Horny Subs with Dangerously high Stamina, Dominant!Reader]

You really will have to reward Denki properly after this.

Something your sweet honey-blonde would like, something outside of the bedroom for once. Maybe you'd take him to that 'Oh so cool' restaurant he'd had his eyes on for a while. Or that store in the mall where he likes to snatch up his favorite tacky accessories. Or Maybe you'd finally let him pick an outfit for you, something to match his while he takes you out and parades- he really did like to show off.

Though, even as you think about it, you'll need to reward Izuku too.

Poor baby was being so good, he's only cried briefly while you inch the too-long and too-thick dildo deeper into his well-lubed asshole. The slight bulge of it against his lower belly made your head spin, but it was your job to keep control right now.

You glance quick past Denki to check on Izuku's wrists, seeing how flushed the skin was as he pulled against his binding's. His thighs were faring better, perhaps because it was harder to move them, the straps pinning his calves back till he lay on them, thighs and hips raised to the air from it. The spreader at his knees kept them nicely apart, giving you the room you needed to keep working his hole well.

It'd been a little over an hour, you think, he was due his release soon.

Even so, it was hard to pull yourself from the view of Denki. His fingers so light on the metal rod tucked away inside Izuku's cock, little sparkles of static running down it and likely giving the blockage a run for its money against the push of cum that surely was built behind it. Every shock had Izuku keening around Denki's cock where it sat snug against the ring holding your love's mouth open. Drool and cum leaked from his lips, Denki having let go into him a few times by now, each time thumbing the ball on the tip of the rod, pressing it just a bit more intensely into his fellow sub.

You kept at it, just a bit longer, the dildo hilted at last while Denki panted and groaned through another orgasm. You could hear Izuku choke slightly around the load before swallowing properly with a whine.

The kiss you pressed to Denki's mouth was sloppy, his jaw too lax to do much other than let you suck at his lips and tongue while you pet Izuku's taint.

"Honey, come out of Izzy for me? I think it's about time we let him go."

After a nod and a shudder, Denki lifted his hips away from Izuku's face, tip still leaking pre despite just blowing a load out less than a minute ago.

He shuffled around, leaving the rod to sit still in your sweet boy's cock as he settled beside you.

"Izu, sweetie, you okay?"

Tears beaded his lashes and stained his cheeks, breathing deep now that Denki's weight was off his chest and face. He gave you a nod and a garbled affirmation.

You leaned up to kiss his face, a hand warm over the outline of the toy inside him, "You ready to cum, baby? Ready to be all done?"

You knew it was only a half promise, both of the boy's stamina well equipped for rounds even after this. But, you always left room for them to bow out between.

Izuku's hips twitched up at the question of an orgasm, already feeling as though he came dry several times. When he started to croon for you, you couldn't help but lick into his mouth, tasting salt.

With his pleas clear, you backed off down toward his lap, taking him in hand at last.

Denki snuck his way lower, his own hips rutting into the bed where he lay comfortably, head snug under your arm and against Izuku's soft balls.

You could hear him suck greedily on Izuku as you started to stroke him long and languidly. You couldn't help but laugh some, he really did want to be well entwined with your sweetheart's end.

So there he stayed while you gripped Izuku a bit tighter, pressing your thumb against the underside of his dick to feel the rod inside while you cooed to him.

"Is this good, baby? Did you enjoy it like you hoped? I think I did, your pretty holes so stretched and bared...How did it feel, when it hit so deep inside you?"

You just needed to work him up to a proper crescendo, a peak to tip him off of nicely. This is what you pictured as you gave up stroking for something more. The ball stopper on the end of the rod was too convenient as you used it to fuck Izuku's cute little cum hole, watching his eyes roll back and feeling the movement against the hand you left wrapped around him.

"Oh, baby, are you close? Just a bit more? I know you want it so, so bad, right?"

You weren't surprised when Denki's moans mixed with Izuku's, obviously getting off to your voice as his tongue was pressed wet to Izuku's taint, having taken a whole half of him into his mouth. You wouldn't be surprised if he was letting off the static like he had earlier, this time conducted by his gleeful drool.

Your hand sped as Izuku moaned for you, his hips restless with need and bindings pulled taut.

"Ready? God, ready baby? I'll let you cum. Cum lots for me, okay?"

There it was, the precipice you'd aimed for, taken over beautifully as you whisked the rod away at his cries, tilting his cock toward him and watching as the heady ropes splattered on his face.

You loved watching him cum, seeing all that force that was usually spent tucked away inside your walls shown clear as day against his skin.

With as much edging as you'd done, it was no surprise the amount was far greater than usual.

After you milked the last drop from him, the hot seed landing across his chest and tummy as you jerked him quickly, you had to nudge Denki off of him.

He came up with a pop and pressing a wet kiss to your cheek, "Can I have next? God, please?" You let him wheedle against your neck for a moment before you gave him a response. A sweet peck or three as you gripped his chin was enough to still his busy lips.

"Of course, honey, but we need to fix Izzy first, yeah?"

Denki got to work unlatching the ring gag from his head, helping to rub his sore jaw while you started to inch out the toy. He had Izuku's arms free and was kissing the roughed skin by the time you freed the hunk of dildo from your lover's ass. You were sure he'd be gaping the rest of the night from it.

You watched your boys kiss sweet while you took off the leg bindings, and the spreader. It was always a sight to see them like this, doped up on love and sex with lidded eyes and drooling mouths. You loved your boys.

You took Izuku’s legs out from under him slowly, letting him stretch the muscles that'd been kept pinned for a good time now, rubbing some life back into them.

When you scooted up to join Denki in kissing away the mess Izuku made on his own face, you found them both turning to give you kisses back. Faces pressed close, lips brushing soft and chapped.

You gave them each a noisy kiss, Denki trying to linger in his despite shuffling away, "Mmm, baby, wanna rest a bit? Or you wanna get cleaned up first?"

Your decision was made for you when you felt Denki move your hips up, bringing you over your exhausted lover to grind his dripping stiffy against your soaked lips.

God it felt good. This session had been focused on your boys for the most part, having only let them eat you a little as a warm up. Denki's insistent pressure was heaven, quite honestly. You knew he was eager as could be.

Luckily, Izuku leaned up into your hovering lips, a mumbled plea for you to stay, to feel you on him. He wanted to see his loves have fun too.

That was all the confirmation Denki needed to hear as he sunk into you with a relieved groan.

Your sweet kisses with Izuku were cut short as your other love tugged your hips back to meet his quick thrusts. You could feel the static off his hands where they gripped you.

You weren't worried of his speed, his chase for pleasure, knowing well he'd keep at it until you came for him. You adjusted, spreading your knees wider against the bed, belly and breasts pressed to Izuku.

You knew he was tired, he had to be. Yet still he watched, with lidded, sleepy eyes, he watched how you bit your lip when Denki hit the right spot, how flushed it was when you gave it up to a moan.

You settled with him nicely, arms tucked under his back and cheek to his, letting your joy drip from your mouth into his ear.

Denki was far from the babbler that Izuku was, almost laughing whines from a loose mouth, begging for more even when everything he needed was laid out literally in his hands.

It was cute though, you loved him. You loved how restless he was, head rolling this way and that like he just couldn't stand how good it felt. You loved how his hips snapped without restraint, not even letting you miss the feel of him inside before he was seated deep all over again. You loved how you could tell when he was close by how he leaned over you, pleaded for you against your back and neck while his hand slipped under to press electrified fingers to your clit. You loved how he tilted his hips, adjusting just right to have his tip kiss your cervix, shaft grinding against your best spot along the way.

"That's it, right there- honey! G-good boy, just like that, fuck-!"

You loved how you could feel his smile against your skin, hear the break in his voice and know he was looking to the sky as he begged to fill you up, warned that'd he'd lose himself in you, and how much he wanted to.

When you came on his cock with a choked moan, catching green curls in your mouth, you knew he was done for.

On he went, breath hot on your skin despite the cooling drool that he left, "So good! So good, so good, so hot I-! I need to cum, please! Please, please, just a little more, just a bit more-!"

You rode your aftershocks with pride as he rushed toward his end, "Yes, honey, yes, cum in me! I want it sweetie, god, I want it-! I'll take it all honey, just pour it out, my good boy!"

His seed tingled inside you, his body lifted rigidly as he fought his charge through his orgasm. You let yourself relax as he finished, letting him grind and buck through the high. You swore he came once more, giving just another few pushes before he finally settled.

He wasn't heavy, for that you were thankful as he lay across you, arms snug around you as he let himself soften up, still tucked away inside you.

"Denki, honey, I know you're comfy now, but we still need to clean Izuku up..." More so, now that you'd squirted all over his lap.

You didn't get the chance to fuss at his disobedient whine, warm lips pressed to your ear, your resting lover appearing far more revived than you’d expected.

"I think...I think we'll need to clean you up, more."

With Izuku's tone, and his hands rubbing circles into your hips, you resign yourself with a fond sigh to what was sure to be a test of both your boy's starving drives.

#lemon #izuku midoriya #izuku midoriya x reader #Denki Kaminari #Denki Kaminari x reader #Denki Kaminari x Reader x Izuku Midoriya #mha #bnha #mha x reader #bnha x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia

361 notes · View notes

rogersbabyyy · 5 years ago

Text

sex, drugs, rock n’roll | roger taylor

author’s note: me? posting a fic? this is much too strange! i really have no excuse for writing this other than i was horny and just wanted to write some filthy ass 70s sex where everyone’s high and and it’s a lot of fun. but please don’t do drugs it’s not a good idea, this is just for fictional sake and me wishing i was a groupie :) also, i tried to change up my writing style a bit a try and get into the head of someone on cocaine, hence the repetition and somewhat scattered internal monologue. i really hope you enjoy, please reblog!

summary: you get high and fuck roger at one of freddie’s parties... that’s it.

warnings/tags: this is the most disgusting thing i’ve written. DRUG USE!!, foul language, smut (dom!roger makes an appearance), but mostly heavy drug use (cocaine) so pls pls dont read if u feel uncomfy!

word count: 3.7k

not proofread

Two hours ago, the party had conformed to become a force of life in itself; roaring and fantastical, welcoming and formidable, all at the same time. Nothing less than outrageous, there were naked girls, naked boys, lounging on Freddie Mercury’s grand staircase, snogging and touching and almost fucking right for everyone to see.

The latest disco hit playing through the stereo system was nothing but a pounding heartbeat for the writhing bodies to obey, hands clutching glasses swaying above heads, shoes kicked to the sides of the room, heads unconsciously bobbing to the beat.

It was the quintessential celebration for the release of Queen’s latest album, months and months of hard work, Roger arriving home every night (morning?) at two, and proceeding to wake you up at six o’clock anyway with the crush of his golden cymbals and throb of his bass drum. Not that you minded, but… it was nice to finally have the chance to let loose, and the boys, finally earning a proper wage of their own, had the money for parties like these now.

The host of the evening (and lead singer of the band) adorned in a leotard clinging to every curve of his muscular body and showing off his chest covered in a soft dawn of hair, had been busy all night entertaining his guests, balancing a velvet crown atop his head with one hand, a glass of bubbly champagne in the other (his matching cloak long ago discarded), his booming tenor voice always assuring that more drinks were coming, and oh, come on darling, you must have another.

Brian and John, however, were long gone; as soon as one of Freddie’s friends dumped an assorted mix of drugs onto the table (causing to Brian to choke on his beer, with someone needing to thump him on the back for a solid two minutes before he recovered), he whisked Chrissie out of there, and John was always yearning to be with his little babies these days (they were utterly precious; Freddie constantly demanded that they be brought round to the studio).

So, that left you with the drummer.

Your boyfriend, Roger, was situated firmly at your side, the hand that wasn’t holding an ice cold glass of whiskey thrown around your waist. His shirt was unbuttoned almost to his navel, exposing his toned abdomen shining with sweat (not unlike the little black dress you were wearing, with a neckline that dipped so low it really didn’t leave anything to the imagination), and oh, did he ever look delicious. And, he obviously thought the same of you; for the way his tongue was licking slow, deliberate stripes over your exposed neck, causing you to giggle so hysterically, it probably had something to do with the remnants of fine white powder littering the glass table, on which your nose was pressed up against approximately five seconds ago.

Euphoric was barely a satisfying enough word to describe how you were feeling. You were orgasmic, horny, powerful, high, burning up (God, you were hot); and from the way Roger’s baby blue eyes were fixed on you, dilated and glazed over, he wasn’t feeling all that different. Growling softly against your neck, his head clouded with a high of his own, his lips hot, so hot, burning, exerted to find the words he desired to describe what he wanted to do to you.

“Mhm, lovie,” he moaned, “Want to, want... ” he laughed softly against you, his equilibrium simultaneously failing him, as he lost what little balance he had left and swayed against you, spilling his drink all over his front in the process.

“Ah, fuck,” He discarded the glass by letting it roll out of his hand and onto the beautiful Persian rug below, and you found this unspeakably hilarious, laughing harder until his lips finally found yours in a kiss so filthy it belonged in a porn movie. Open mouths, tongues entwined in a furious dance, he tasted of his whiskey, Benson & Hedges cigarettes, the hor d’oeuvres that had been floating around all night on silver trays, and something else that was just inexplicably him.

“Naughty dress you’re wearin,” he tried again, lips breaking from yours, and then, barely suppressing a grin; “M’ so horny. M’ so horny you don’t even know. Wanna fuck you right here, don’t give a fuck if anyone sees. Need to fuck you, need your cunt, need you, need you,” He repeated the words continuously, his voice ending as a mumble as he went back to press open mouthed kisses against your neck, on which you’d know there’d be countless bruises in the morning.

Your heart throbbed faster, faster, fasterfasterfaster, and it wasn’t even a question in your mind to squeeze the stiffy growing in his too tight jeans; no one was really even looking, too busy dancing and kissing and drinking and smoking and laughing and-

“I swear to God, I will come in my jocks if you keep bloody doing tha’.” He choked, grasping your wrist and squeezing it softly.

“Well, s’much as I wanna fuck here, I don’t think Fred would appreciate seeing your cock, as lovely as it is,” you beamed up at him, and he giggled softly back, brushing your hair to one side.

“Hm, you have a point, kitten,” he peppered your neck with a few more slow kisses, before his lips found your ear to whisper, “Besides, we wouldn’t want everyone seeing your pretty cunt, because that’s all mine.”

Oh, he owned you, he owned you so bad, and you could feel your walls tighten at his words, and oh how you wished they were clenching around him instead.

“Please, Rogie, let’s go, upstairs, somewhere, the bathroom or the car, even-”

“Calm down, lovie, c’mon, let’s go upstairs… Be needin’ some o’ this,” Roger staggered sideways to snatch up one of the last small plastic bags left on the table, bulging almost to the brim with white powder, “Let’s go.”

Your hand in his as was clammy and hot, God it was so hot, as you took a grievous amount of time to scale Freddie’s staircase in platform heels that perhaps maybe possibly you might have stolen from John, it was too long ago to remember. So, you kicked them off, and they clunk clunk clunked as they bumped their way down the stairs; you’d pick them up later, but probably not, because you were so horny and so bloody fucked up that really the only thing you were thinking at that point about was grinding slowly on Roger’s cock.

Your clit throbbed at the thought, and you fell against his side, moaning softly, his arm encircling your waist to keep you upright.

“Here,” Roger grunted, sweeping you up in his arms as if you weighed nothing at all, and you howled gleefully, legs failing as your halfheartedly moaned for him to set you back down.

“Roger, stop!”

He ignored your pleas, a soft, dazed smile on his face, as he pushed open the door to the nearest room with his shoulder; which happened to be a master bedroom with a four-poster bed, surround by a floaty, gauzy fabric.

He set you down gently on the mattress.

“Right,” he smiled, and for as high as he was, he unsealed the small bag and carefully tapped out a short, perfect line of cocaine on the bedside table. “Ladies first, hm?”

Reaching for the five pound note in his outstretched hand, (“Thank you very much, kind sir,”) you rolled it into a tight cylinder with some difficulty, your hands were trembling so much (from the drug, or from the need for more of it?) and hovered over the line, sniffing as hard as you could as the powder rushed its way upward, Roger’s hands carefully holding your hair back in a makeshift ponytail as the stimulant worked its magic.

Within seconds the drug was in your blood, in your brain, sizzling and popping and making you shiver in delight, oh, it felt good, and you sniffed again, your head dizzy and the room whirling around and aroundaroundaround until your eyes came to a focus on Roger right at your side. He seemed ten times more attractive, if possible, and you quite literally drooled at the sight of him, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as the room whirled once more.

“Good, huh?” His eyes were excited, as he unbuttoned his shirt completely now and shrugged it off, the fabric landing in a heap on the floor, his hand sliding down the small of your back to squeeze your ass, practically hanging out of your too-tight and much-too-short dress.

“So good,” you said, running your fingers through your hair, your palms coming to rest on his shoulders, “Fuck, I feel like I could do anything. And I’m so horny I could die,”

“Know the fuckin’ feelin’,” he groaned, pushing you backward onto the awaiting bed, his mouth clumsily finding yours in a messy snog, his hands obviously focused on something else;

“Please get those pretty tits out fo’ me,” he growled, his hot hands everywhere all at once, all at once, all at once yesyesyesyes, and God it felt so good, pulling at your dress and squeezing your hips and cradling your pyretic cheeks, “Been teasin’ me all night like the whore you are, mhm, such a little whore, yes,” finally, he managed to rip your pretty black dress right down the middle, your breasts bouncing as they were revealed to him.

His feverish, insistent mouth eagerly found one of your nipples, nipping the soft bud between his teeth. In return, you gasped, thrusting your chest forward ohohohohfuck and yanking on his salty hair. He sucked on it until the bud pebbled, hard against his tongue, and the other breast received the same treatment, Roger always being one for fairness.

“Lay down, c’mon,” his voice was a soft whine, a palm on your shoulder to push you backward onto the luxurious mattress, on which you fell against like one of those rich white girls in chick flicks, collapsing after a long day of retail therapy.

And before your brain could process what he up to, the bag of cocaine was in his hand, and he poured a generous line over the dip in between your breasts, a mischievous grin lighting up his face as he did so.

“Mhm, let’s get it all over, that’s it, all over your pretty tits,” he simpered, his chest heaving with anticipation and arousal, as he tidied up the line with his fingertips, “Always wanted to do this, gettin’ high off your body, mhm…”

“Oh, you’re filthy!” You gasped, as he pressed his soft, upturned nose in the valley, not even bothering with the rolled up fiver. Holding one nostril closed, he snorted the fine powder all in an alarmingly fast fluid motion, your hand entangled in his hair to hold him close to you as he did so, before he shot up like a person possessed.

“Oh, shit!”

He was a flurry of blurry blonde locks as shook his head from side to side, almost violently, his body positively trembling when he was done as he sniffed hard, a final time. His eyes rolled back in his head briefly, before fixating on your lips, and stating in a deadpan voice as clear as day;

“I might die if I don’t fuck you right now.”

You thought it impossible for your heart to race any faster than it was, but your body proved you wrong, your head and the inside of your wrists and every limb pounding hard and fast to the rhythm of the organ, like one of Roger’s particularly fast drum beats that left him panting and shaking from adrenaline (in fact, not so different from his current state).

“Fuck me then, would you? I’m so wet I think I’ve made a mess,” your voice was a soft, hoarse, giggle, as you looked down to find a noticeable dark patch on the white lacy g-string you’d had the foresight to wear.

“See! Oops!” You laughed loudly, slipping your fingers past the material to rub your throbbing clit, throbthrobthrobbing godyouweresowet, and you pouted teasingly when Roger could do nothing but stare. “What, don’t you want me, Rogie?”

His eyes flickered shut as they rolled backward again, showing you the whites as painful, animalistic whimper left his throat. His hands fumbled at a speed you’d never seen before to unbuckle his belt, tugging down his flared denim jeans (that were all the rage at the moment).

While he did so, you removed your fingers from their place over your core, you brought them to your mouth, taking your index and pointer fingers to the knuckle, before dragging them down over your lips.

Finally managing to slide the leader belt through the loops of his jeans, Roger shook his head as you this, his gaze almost becoming furious and disapproving as he leant toward you and nudged your hand away from your mouth, replacing your fingers with his own.

“Uh-uh,” he scolded, “Don’t you dare tease me like that now, lovie.”

You sucked eagerly on his fingers, tongue running thoroughly over the tips of each, kissing and sucking and perhaps wanted them rubbing over your needy clit instead.

As if reading your mind, Roger’s fingers withdrew slicky from your mouth, spanking the sweet bundle of nerves between your legs, just enough that you convulsed, shuddering at his touch; “Fuck!”

“Open your mouth,” he commanded, forcefully taking your face in his hand and squeezing your cheeks until you obeyed, eyes crazed and jubilant.

With a soft hum, he let a single strand of his saliva drip from his mouth to yours, dribbling slowly onto your awaiting tongue, as you swallowed eagerly and jutted your chin out proudly to show him your efforts.

“Tha’s my girl.”

“Can you fuck me now, please?” You moaned, sliding your knickers past your ankles to toss them over Roger’s shoulder, all the while giving him the sexiest puppy dog eyes you were able to muster up.

“Since you asked so nicely.” Yanking his boxer shorts off and kicking them toward the foot of the bed, you finally got to wrap your hand around his length as it bobbed upward to tap against his tummy, beads of precum leaking from the tip, feeling the throb of his erratic drug fuelled heartbeat pulse through his shaft.

“Such a needy boy,” you whispered, legs spreading earnestly as you greedily guided his palpitating member to your core. The cherry coloured blush that was the head of his cock slid past the swollen lips of your cunt, and the both of you shivered in a bout of ecstasy, moaning against each other as Roger clutched you to his chest.

He then slid out of you slowly, before immediately jerking his hips back toward you, making you scream, digging the heel of your foot into his back.

“You’re so bloody wet,” he gasped, collapsing his weight onto his forearms as his thrusts continued the erratic pace he’d established moments before, one slow thrust, and then fastfastfastfaster-

“You’re so fucking huge, oh my God, I love your cock, I love your cock, I love-”

-until he returned to his teasingly slow pace. Whimpering, you hid your face in the crook of your elbow, eyes squeezed shut as you shakily begged your boyfriend to increase his pace.

“I’ll fuck you how I like,” he grunted, angling his cock in a way that it only just nudged your g-spot, making your toes curl as his hips finally found the familiar rhythm that you so adored: fast, steady, and hard.

The room resumed its spinning motion from earlier as his cock sent you into a bout of euphoria, his balls making the filthiest noises you’d ever heard as their momentum caused them to slap against your your dripping pussy.

“You feel so fucking good, holy fuck,”

His cock made a slick, wet sound as he pulled out of you, and you whined, cunt clenching around nothing, so emptyemptyempty.

“Why’d you stop?”

“Get on your hands n’ knees, c’mon love, c’mon, need t’be back in your cunt,” He was panting, his hair soaking with sweat, his palms so warm so hot so boiling, as they found your waist to flip you over, making you titter deliriously as you landed on your front, ass in the air and cheek against the soft dawn of the mattress.

“Pass us the coke, angel,” you felt him smile as he pressed the gentlest of kisses against the back of your shoulder, as you stretched to reach the little bag filled to the brim with euphoria to pass over to your boyfriend.

Catching you by surprise, his palm came down sharply on the supple skin of your ass, as you jolted forward and squealed, clutching the sheets against the sting of your skin that was just the right blend between pleasure and pain.

“You like that, don’t you? Filthy little thing, an absolute slut, horny and dripping, all for who? Hm?”

“For you, for you, only for you, Rog!”

Feeling a tickling sensation between your asscheeks, you knew what Roger was doing immediately, knew he was tapping out what was left of the white powder on the barely-an-inch of skin that separated your two holes.

“Stay still,” he muttered, palms spreading your cheeks apart to bury his face in between them, snorting the powder in a quick, practiced movement.

A slurred jumble of profanities left his mouth as the smaller amount of the drug boosted the euphoria coursing around his system, and he delivered a final spank to your ass, and you yelped and laughed deliriously once more.

“Alright, c’mon, you naughty thing, back up you get,” His staunch arms encircled your waist and lifted you so were you sitting upright.

“Want you t’ride my cock, think you can do that fo’ me?”

“Yes, yes, oh, please, want you back inside me,” you begged, clambering on top of your boyfriend as he settled against the headboard of the bed, his eyes clouded with lust as you rocked desperately against his thigh. “Feel so empty.”

“I can certainly help you with that, darlin’, mhm, oh, oh fuck,” he grunted as you took a hold of his member and settled down onto it, pushing him inside you.

Grinding your hips against him slowly, it was Roger’s turn to whimper, as his hands squeezed your waist to keep you balanced against him.

“Please, love,” his voice was hoarse, “need to you- oh, yes.”

Using your knees as leverage, you re-commenced the steady tempo, except now you were in charge. You bounced on his cock, taking him right to the hilt every time, your breasts bouncing in front of his face, in and out and in and out outandinoutandin…

You went to throw your head back in a wail of pleasure, but Roger’s hand found the back of your neck to stop you, and he growled,

“Watch. Watch yourself bouncin’ on my cock.”

You looked down at the join of your bodies and moaned gutturally at the sigh of his dick soaked in your wetness, his veins pink and throbbing, so pretty, God his cock was gorgeous-

You reached down to rub your stiff, hard, slit, your movement becoming messier and erratic, Roger announcing;

“I’m so close, love, I’m so close-”

“Come inside me, I don’t care, please, want you in my cunt, Rog, please,”

“Bloody fuckin’-”

You didn’t need to tell him twice. Your words alone prompted a callous growl from his diaphragm, his muscles seizing and spasming as his warm seed covered the walls of your pulsing cunt, hips jerking of their own accord as he emptied himself inside you.

The feeling of his cum inside you, paired with the stunning sight of his orgasm, pushed you to your own.

“Roger, Roger, oh my God, Roger-!” The coil in your stomach popped, your eyes rolling backward as they did when you took your first line of the drug, falling into his chest as your trembled.

“Tha’s it pretty girl,” he encouraged, still shaking from his own orgasm and the cocaine and everything was just overwhelming as you came all over his cock, “Tha’s it, come for me, fuck, you’re clenching so hard-”

And that’s when you squirted all over his cock, drenching him with your cum, almost looking like a person having a seizure.

If he had it in him, Roger could have come again right then and there. His ego certainly inflated a solid few degrees (although it was already relatively huge; c’mon, this was the 70s), because he did that to you. He made you squirt all over his cock, and forget the cocaine; that was the most powerful feeling was capable of experiencing.

Rolling off of you in a tangle of limbs, Roger’s breathing was hoarse and loud and rough as he fought to catch his breath.

“Fuck, that was hot.”

Eyes heavily lidded, the tiny floating pinprick sized silver stars still sporadically clouding your vision, you sighed contently, feeling fuzzy and happy and high as a kite and most importantly, in love.

You knew it wouldn’t last long; the inevitable crash would creep up on you out of nowhere and have you reaching for a cigarette or glass of wine, or, most likely, Roger’s arms, where you’d have a good cry for no particular reason.

“Rogie?” You murmured, rolling on your side to rest your head on his shining chest, hearing his turbulent heartbeat thunder against your ear.

“Yes, angel?” His eyes were still bright and misty from the drug, and yet, they surveyed yours carefully, his arm wrapping around you. “That was fun, dontcha think?”

“‘Course,” you smiled, “like having your cum inside me, all dripping out.”

“Fuckin’ Christ,” he kissed you again, “n’ I love marking you up, darlin’, letting everyone know you’re mine, all mine, mine, mine…”

He smiled his perfect little cheeky schoolboy grin, “Love you, angel, you know that? ‘Cos I do, I love you, wanna be yours n’ fuck you forever.”

Your vision was hazy, the last of the cocaine beginning to thin in your blood, the crash creeping up on you as the seconds ticked by-

“I love you, Rog.”

-but, boy, could Freddie throw a party. And Roger: he was worth it.

#roger taylor #roger taylor smut #roger taylor fluff #roger taylor x reader #ben hardy smut #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy! roger taylor #ben hardy fluff #ben hardy

1K notes · View notes

eeveedel · 5 years ago

Note

PLS WRITE SUMN W CHUBBY ALPHA HARRY.. MAAM.....

okayyyyy :)

This is literally the most wild drabble I’ve ever written, I loved this idea and then on Twitter I got some food kink requests so here we are.

Please be advised his fic contains adult content intended for 18+ audiences, as well as chubby/fat kink and sexual feeding. If that at all makes you uncomfortable or is triggering to you please don’t read. If you’re interested, then enjoy some unedited stupid boys, rushed and messy sex, and a dumb ending xo

–

Pool parties were Louis’s favorite part of summer.

Aside from the chance it gave him to survive the summer heat wave by mooching off his much richer friend’s pool, parties like this also gave him an excuse to wear his dumbest swimsuits, like the palm-leaf covered Speedo he had chosen today. He loved nothing more than doing sloppy, half-remembered flips off the diving board and draping himself over one of Liam and Zayn’s stupid novelty pool floaties while he let the sun deepen his tan, all while letting as much of his body as possible be shown off in his tin swimwear.

Most of all, he liked doing all that while feeling his alpha’s gaze on him.

Louis shifted on the hot pink inflatable pool chair he had planted himself on, and looked at the side of the pool.

Harry had laid down in one of the poolside loungers, bone dry and drinking a beer while he watched Louis in the pool.

He looked fucking delicious. He always did, but something about the sight of Louis’s alpha in an old swimsuit, his round, soft belly flopping a little over the waistband, made him feel hot all over.

Louis should be used to his boyfriend’s body enough to not almost get a stiffy in public over it, and yet here they were. He had first met Harry over a year and a half ago, when Harry had spilled his rum and Cherry Coke all over Louis’s new white shirt at Niall’s annual Christmas party. Louis had cursed him out thoroughly before actually looking up and immediately going quiet at the gaze of a tall, warm-looking alpha in front of me. An alpha who also was sporting a sizable beer gut belly under a very old looking t-shirt, which made Louis’s chest warm up for some reason.

After gazing at his alpha for a few more moments, Louis rolled off the floatie and into the water. He swam over to the nearest pool ladder so he could climb out, and then once he was out of the pool he promptly flopped down on the lounge chair with Harry. Immediately, put his arms around the alpha’s middle and his chin on Harry’s shoulder, giving his round cheek a kiss.

“Hi, alpha,” Louis giggled, throwing a leg over Harry’s lap. Harry smiled at him, his sunglasses dipping down his nose so he could give Louis a full, bright green glance.

“Hey, baby,” he said, skimming his fingers over Louis’s dripping wet skin, “You want a towel?”

“No, I think I’ll air dry,” Louis said, “Mind if I stay here?”

Harry kissed the side of Louis’s head and squeezed his hip.

“Not at all.”

Louis smiled and snuggled into Harry’s shoulder, absentmindedly rubbing his hand over his alpha’s sun-warmed skin.

Zayn and Niall had taken up the loungers next to Harry’s own chair, both of them looking half-asleep and at least a little burned. A minute later, Liam emerged from the sliding glass door at the back of his grossly huge house to hand Zayn a beer and give the omega a kiss. Then he sat down on the last free lounger, lifting up a glass of clear liquid and lime rinds to his lips.

“Liam,” Niall said, “Is that tequila? At two in the afternoon?[if !supportLineBreakNewLine][endif]

Liam shrugged and nodded.

“Yup,” Liam said, “I’m cutting out glutton for the summer. No beer.”

“Fine, but tequila? Straight ass tequila?” Niall argued.

“It’s better than you think!”

Niall grunted at that, sliding his sunglasses up to rest in his sun-bleached hair.

“Whatever. You’re always on some weird fucking health kick. Last year you ate that weird cold salad out of a Ziploc bag all of June.”

“It’s called farro, and it did wonders to my bum, I’ll have you know.”

Liam took another sip of his tequila, and then smiled at all of them.

“You know, I’m thinking of do P90X again, too,” he announced, “I’m trying to start a little club to do it in the afternoons, make it easier.”

“P90X?” Niall repeated, “The fuck is this, 2009?”

“Fuck off, it’s still effective,” Liam scoffed.

“Well, count me out,” Niall said.

“Yeah, babe, you know I’m not doing that,” Zayn added, making Liam sigh.

“God, whatever,” he turned to Harry, pointing at him with his beer bottle, “Styles? You in?”

“No thanks,” Harry shrugged.

“Oh, come on,” Liam laughed, “No offense man, but you could use it more than any of us. You really let yourself go since uni.”

Harry snorted, taking another swig of his beer.

“I’m alright right now, thanks,” Harry said, and squeezed Louis’s hip, “Besides, Louis’s not really into six packs, are you baby?”

Louis blushed, and prodded Harry with an elbow.

So maybe Harry was right. Louis had seen pictures of Harry when he was in university, when he probably weighed less than Louis.; knew exactly what Liam was referring to when he said Harry had let himself go a little bit. Harry had once told him that he reckoned he had gained about 40 pounds in beer, take out, and office job laziness since then, but he never seemed upset by that. And while Louis could appreciate pictures of Harry’s old physique, it didn’t hold a candle for him compared to what his boyfriend looked like now.

But just because he had a kink for his boyfriend being chubby didn’t mean their entire friend group needed it spelled out for them.

“Shut up,” he grumbled.

Harry chuckled, and drained his bottle.

“Speaking of six packs,” he said, “Louis, baby, can you go get me another beer?”

“Isn’t that like your fourth today?” Niall said, “How are you drinking more than me and you’re not even buzzed?”

Harry patted the side of his belly with a smirk.

“Higher alcohol tolerance,” he said, “Guess it comes with letting yourself go.”

Louis flushed again, and then peeled himself away from Harry’s side, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“I’ll go grab that beer for you, babe,” Louis said. He got to his feet, looking at everyone else, “You guys need anything?”

“I need you not to cream yourself on my patio,” Zayn jutted in.

“Fuck you,” Louis snapped, and then grabbed the handle of the sliding glass door.

“Hey, Liam, remember when you ate six bananas a day for a month in uni and ended up in the hospital with B12 deficiency?” Niall asked from behind him, which made Liam scoff angrily and then begin ranting about something he had read in a fitness journal that month.

Louis glanced behind him, and was just able to catch Harry looking at him over his shoulder. The alpha gave him a wink, a grin spreading on his face to make a dimple form in one of his padded cheeks.

Louis swallowed thickly and went inside.

–

They got home late, after the boys had talked them into a few more beers and kicking a football around Liam and Zayn’s backyard. By the end, Louis was bone tired, and he nearly had to drag himself through the front door of his own house, his ass still squeezed into his wet Speedo and his arms held down by several containers of leftovers.

He flicked on the kitchen light, Harry close behind him as he opened the fridge to put the leftovers inside.

“That was fun,” Louis said, looking over at his boyfriend.

“It was,” Harry sighed, slumping against the wall. His hands found their way to his stomach, and he rubbed it in slow, gentle circles, “M’fucking stuffed, though.”

He patted his middle, and it sounded firm and hollow. Louis just looked at him, trying to keep his breath normal. Harry was staring at him in the same firm way he had been looking at Louis swimming in the pool. He looked gorgeous, with his long hair tied up and his skin healthy and glowing from the sun. He was wearing the shirt he had put on once they were done at the pool; a yellow Hawaiian shirt covered in green and pink palm leaves. The bottom two buttons were tight against his middle, a bit of his tan skin showing through where the fabric didn’t quite cover him.

“Oh,” Louis said, “Uh – had a bit too much, huh?”

“Oh, yeah,” Harry grinned, “Can’t tell what was the mistake, that third burger or all that potato salad you brought me.”

He patted his belly again, and Louis turned away. He tried to ignore how his traitor of a cock was already chubbing up.

“Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?” Harry arched an eyebrow.

“Don’t talk about how full you are.”

“What, I am?” Harry said. He sighed fully, and his belly pushed out. He stroked his hand up the line of buttons that ran down his front. “Hope I don’t pop one of these, I think this shirt.”

“Harry, shut your fucking mouth, I need to take a shower,” Louis snapped, his face already turning red. He snapped the fridge closed and tried to walk past, but Harry grabbed his wrist.

“Do you?”

“Yes, I have chlorine in my hair, it’ll be so dry in the morning if I don’t condition it,” Louis said, “That’s basic science.”

It made Harry laugh, and he let go of Louis’s wrist.

“M’kay, baby,” Harry chuckled, “I’ll be in our room when you’re all done.”

Louis nearly jogged away, slipping into their room and then into their en-suite. He took off his shorts and t-shirt, tossing his Speedo into the sink to soak. He was already half-hard and he cursed weakly as he turned the shower on.

Fucking fuck his beautiful, thick alpha. Fucking fuck his own kink. Fuck all of it. He just needed a shower.

He scrubbed his body and hair down quickly, avoiding his dick entirely. He felt wetness between his cheeks that certainly did not come from the showerhead, and he whimpered as he finished up. Quickly, the water was shut off, and Louis almost tripped getting out of the shower. He wrapped his slender waist in a towel and tried to dab at his soaking hair with a washcloth. When it was no longer dripping all over his shoulders, he shook his head hard, trying to clear his thoughts, before he stepped into the bedroom.

Any thoughts of clearing his thoughts were vanquished when he came into the bedroom.

Harry was there, as promised, sitting up in their California king in just in his black briefs, his full beer belly spilling into his lap and his love handles curving over the briefs’ elastic. He was scrolling through his phone, but he looked up and tossed the device away when Louis walked in. Harry grinned and stretched an arm over his head, showing tattoos that had long faded and stretched out with his arm’s growing width.

“Louis,” Harry said, “Perfect timing.”

“Is it,” Louis said weakly.

“Yeah,” Harry said, and then, the treacherous fucking bastard stuck a thumb into his belly button and grabbed the bottom half of his belly with his other four fingers and shook himself, making his stomach jiggle, “Was just thinking I’m not as full as I was a few minutes ago.”

Louis felt his fingers weaken their grip on the towel and it fell down onto the floor, leaving him naked.

“Oh, yeah?” he asked.

“Mm hm,” Harry hummed, “Think I could go for some dessert. Could you get me something?”

Oh, this bitch. This fucking bitch.

“Sure thing,” Louis agreed, his neck warming, “How about some of those brownies Niall made?”

“That sounds great,” Harry agreed.

“Well,” Louis said, his throat feeling tight, “Let me just go grab that.”

He nearly sprinted out of the room and into the kitchen. Once he was there, his mind was already racing. He grabbed the Tupperware full of the brownies, which were already caramel covered and iced with little frosting flowers. They were probably enough on his own, but he just tucked the container under one arm and kept exploring the fridge.

Harry wanted to play dirty, get Louis riled up and then decide that tonight was a good time for a feeding and a fucking, which he knew made Louis lose his mind. So Louis was going to do better than some leftover brownies.

After rummaging for a bit, Louis picked up a canister of whipped cream, a bottle of chocolate syrup, and the half-gallon of milk they had their fridge. He shut the fridge door with his knee, and managed to carry his haul back to their room.

Once he was back, Harry watched him with interest, and Louis deposited all the food on the bed before he climbed up himself. He sat with his legs bracketing Harry’s legs, the alpha’s warm stomach touching his own.

“Here are your brownies, gorgeous,” he said, picking up the Tupperware and cracking up open. He picked one off the top, holding it out, “Open up.”

Harry opened his mouth, and Louis gently fed him the dessert, his mouth growing drier at how Harry ate without losing eye contact with Louis.

When Harry had the last bite in his mouth, Louis pulled his hand away and licked at his fingers.

“How is it?” the omega asked.

“Mm,” Harry hummed, and then spoke with his mouth still full, “I think it could use something extra.”

“Well, you’re in luck.”

Louis grabbed the whipped cream from his side, holding it up for Harry to see. He shook up the cold canister, and then tipped it upside down, angling it towards Harry’s face.

“You want some, baby?” he asked, his hand already pressed on the nozzle.

“You know I do, honey.”

Harry opened his mouth and Louis nodded, then put the nozzle on Harry’s tongue and pressed. He pressed until the alpha’s mouth was overflowing with whipped cream. Then he brought his mouth down, lapping up some of the cream from Harry’s mouth and then kissing the alpha’s sugar-covered mouth. Harry moaned as he kissed Louis back, his hands reaching back to grab at Louis’s bum. Louis bounced a bit, his ass shaking Harry’s hands.

Louis pulled away after a few moments, and then smiled again.

“Were those brownies chocolate-y enough, alpha?” Louis asked.

“Could be a little more,” Harry said, “Niall skimped on the cocoa powder, I think.”

“That bastard,” Louis laughed, “I would never do that to you.”

He reached for the chocolate sauce then, opening it up and then tipping it into Harry’s mouth. A little spilled over Harry’s lips and chin as Louis squeezed it along Harry’s tongue. Louis quickly closed the bottle and swooped in, licking the sugary sweetness off of Harry. Harry groaned again, his hands squeezing harder at Louis’s bum. The omega gasped against his lips, and he reached down, holding onto Harry’s belly and jiggling it a little.

Harry’s moan turned into a weak growl, but Louis just pulled away from the kiss and smiled at his alpha, grabbing the half gallon of milk.

“Something to wash that down, alpha?” he asked.

Harry watched him with careful eyes, his gaze flashing.

“Sure,” he said.

He opened his mouth again, and Louis tipped the carton to his lips, a little inevitably spilling on his chin and his chest.

“Oops,” Louis giggled when it spilled, “Clumsy me.”

He screwed the milk carton shut, and then went to work, licking the milk off Harry’s chin and then down on his soft chest. He held onto his boyfriend’s love handles while he did, and Harry just groaned above him.

Louis was just getting to licking at one of Harry’s dark, wide nipples when the alpha grabbed the omega by his hair and yanked his head up.

Louis squeaked in surprise, his eyes going a bit wide as he looked up at Harry’s dark eyes. Harry smiled at him, the expression a bit too soft for his eyes, and then he adjusted his hips and grabbed at his own crotch.

“You want some dessert now too, baby?”

Louis snorted.

“You are a horrible, evil alpha,” Louis said, “Of course I do.”

Harry grinned, then pulled his hard cock out of his briefs, giving it a few unneeded tugs. His fingers then went to grab at Louis’s bum, pulling his cheeks apart and slipping his fingers inside. He fingered Louis quickly and messily, making the omega whine loudly as he did so. Then Harry was lifting him up roughly and planting him down on his cock.

Louis yelped, and then started bouncing, burying his face in Harry’s shoulder as he did. He smelled like rich, spiced wood mixed with the scent of sugar that had come from their dessert, and Louis whimpered at the smell, licking Harry’s shoulder. He kept his hips bouncing, and Harry held a hand on his bum, giving him a squeeze as he moved.

“Such a good omega,” Harry said, “Takes such good care of me. Keeps me well fed and everything.”

Louis whined, nipping at Harry’s skin. He wanted his mouth filled somehow.

Harry’s hips bucked, and Louis yelped as he felt the alpha’s cock jab harder into him. He felt Harry’s big, powerful body move under him, his belly shaking and heaving as he moved. Harry was grunting, the sounds deep and labored by the food in his belly. It only made Louis whine higher in his throat, and he brought his hands up, clawing his blunt nails on Harry’s furry chest. He pulled his mouth off Harry’s shoulder, his jaw a bit sore and his mouth dry as he spoke.

“M’so glad you’re my alpha,” he said, “Glad I don’t have an alpha like Liam. Just want an alpha I can feed and spoil all I want.”

Harry chuckled at that, kissing Louis sweetly despite still pounding into him hard. When he pulled away he slapped his own belly, the sound loud and sharp, and Louis almost cried. He felt more slick pour out of him, and he bit his lip.

“You spoil me so good, sweetheart,” Harry said, his voice deep and nearly a growl. He bucked his hips up, and Louis yelped again, “You want my knot?”

“Yes,” Louis hiccupped, “Oh, god, please.”

“Yeah, I know what you need,” Harry said, still fucking into Louis, “You like a big alpha with a big knot, huh?”

“H – Harry,” Louis gasped, and then squeaked weakly as Harry moaned under him, and he felt a knot start to expand himself him. His thin body shook, and he felt himself coming, a mess all over Harry’s bloated stomach.

Harry held and kissed him as Louis sat tied on his knot, and Louis just hung onto him, scenting himself against Harry’s neck and whining. Harry kissed his neck gently, calling him a good boy and a good omega, and Louis clung to Harry tightly, feeling his own release dry between them.

When Harry’s knot was deflated Louis climbed off his alpha with shaky legs, clearing the bed of Harry’s late-night snacks.

“Leave those,” Harry said when Louis started to get off the bed with it.

“The milk needs to go in the fridge, asshole,” Louis mumbled, but still struggled to waddle out of the room with his shaky legs and sore ass. He put the food away as quickly as he could, and then he was right back in his room, his body cuddling up next to Harry. The alpha rubbed them both down with a washcloth, and then wrapped a thick arm around Louis, giving him a kiss on the top of the head.

“Thanks for my snack, baby,” he said, and Louis giggled. He reached his hand up, rubbing over the tight skin of Harry’s belly, and it made the alpha moan in appreciation.

“God, I still wonder where the fuck you came from,” Harry said, “How did I get so lucky with you?”

Louis shrugged, snuggling deeper in Harry’s soft side.

“M’lucky,” he mumbled, and he meant it. Here, next to his big, soft alpha, he felt safe and at home, pretty satiated and content.

And he would be ready to give Harry whatever he wanted in the morning, whether it was breakfast or something more.

#larry fanfiction #larry stylinson fanfic #one direction fanficition #drabbles #chubby 1d #this is 3k I'm gonna yeet myself #sorry mom sorry dad sorry pastor robert #grandelarrys #ask #thick alpha

71 notes · View notes

viva-la-sterek · 6 years ago

Text

Happy new year, Sterek Fandom! Here is a list of some greatly enjoyable fics created in the fandom this past year! It’s amazing to see Sterek still going strong with events like @sterekweek-2018, @sterek-smooch, @sterekreversebang, @stereksecretsanta, and many more! Thank you so much to the many writers, fanartists, graphic makers and everyone that contributes to fandom! x3

They Say It's Mighty Fine by @the-apocrypha (1/1 | 23,234 | Gen.)

"Hello. This is Alpha Vernon Boyd, calling from Camp Remus about—"

"Derek?" Talia asks, confused. "You're calling about Derek? Is he okay? What happened?"

"Oh, boy." Melissa blows out a breath. "All right. Is he hurt?"

"He's been there for two hours, what could he possibly have—" John pauses. "Hang on, Camp Remus? Like the werewolf camp?"

Where You Still Remember Dreaming by @yodas-yo-yo (15/15 | 95,612 | Explicit)

“What’s your name? I can’t keep calling you Balto.”

“What’s yours?”

“Stiles.”

Derek raises an eyebrow. That isn’t his real name. There’s no way. But now he thinks about it, he has a vague memory of someone, probably Uncle Peter, telling him that with the fae, names have power. “I’m Miguel,” he says.

“Lie.”

“Are you trying to tell me your real name is Stiles?”

Stiles runs his tongue across his teeth and considers Derek carefully. “Fair enough,” he says, “Miguel it is.”

Grabbing his groceries and pocketing the change, Derek turns to leave; he’s nearly at the door when Stiles calls out, “By the way, Miguel, if you’re interested, it’s two for one on bags of kibble at the pet store down the street.”

Derek doesn’t look back, doesn’t hesitate, just raises a hand and flips him off on the way out.

Sweet Buns by skoosiepants / @pantstomatch (1/1 | 17,936 | Teen)

Stiles hasn’t seen Derek Hale this close up for over a decade. He looks almost exactly the same, except somehow he seems even bigger and broodier—criminally handsome, with soft-looking dark scruff, heavy brows, light hazel eyes. His gaze zeros in on Stiles almost immediately, and his scowl lightens minutely in what looks like surprise.

Stiles is acutely aware that he has melted butter and cinnamon all over his face, and tries to surreptitiously wipe it with the ends of his sweater-sleeve.

Or-

The a/b/o bakery au with feelings

Scrubbing Bubbles by MargaretKire (8/8 | 46,063 | Explicit)

Stiles thought it would be easy doing janitorial work for an office. At first, it really was. The job only took a few hours in the evenings and it helped pay for rent and college. Sure, Hale Industries took up an entire floor in one of the downtown financial buildings, but the place was new and easy to care for. He didn’t even have to spend much time cleaning the huge corner office, because the trash was nearly always empty and the office itself was spotless, like no one used it.

It was basically the perfect college job. At least, until the boss started staying late.

Give you that thing you can't even imagine by LunaCanisLupus_22 (1/1 | 10,982 | Explicit)

the one where mateless Derek thinks no omega can affect him like they do other alphas and he's about to find out he's very, very wrong.

That Frothing Knob by Pride_of_Six (4/4 | 14,598 | Explicit)

Stiles was wiping down the spout of a machine with a cloth, and Derek almost popped a stiffy right there in the café. It was completely embarrassing that after so many years of control over both his human and wolf side Derek would find himself so… enamoured by this random. Regardless, the wolf wants what the wolf wants, and Derek found himself trying his darnedest to get some sort of a rise out of Stiles, “You sure know how to handle that frothing knob.”

Needless to say, Derek got to see that beautiful blush colouring the barista’s face once again.

hey asshole by @everchanginginks (1/1 | 15,631 | Mature)

The Hales moved in next door more than a year ago and while Cora and Stiles became fast friends, Stiles has yet to meet his best friend's big brother, Derek, who’s been attending college in New York. When Derek comes home for the summer he makes less than a stellar impression. And vice versa.

lube and determination by @bleep0bleep (2/2 | 4,873 | Explicit)

It's a holiday classic: homesick boy wants to make a pumpkin pie while studying abroad, boy realizes the only place to find vegetable shortening is a sex shop, and boy makes fool of himself in front of other boy.

The Quickest Way to a Man’s Heart (is Through His Bottomless Pit) by @isthatbloodonhisshirt (1/1 | 54,167 | Explicit)

Pulling open his apartment door, he let out an involuntary shout when something was quite literally thrust into his chest hard enough to have him almost tip backwards. He managed to right himself while keeping hold of what had been shoved at him and looked up in time to see his neighbour striding back towards his apartment.

“You’re going to fucking kill yourself.”

His door slammed.

Stiles blinked at the other man’s door, utterly confused, and looked down at what he was holding.

It was a plastic bag, full of what felt like tupperware, which made no sense to Stiles because when had his neighbour broken into his house to steal his tupperware?

Sharing Food by @aussiebee (2/2 | 9,564 | Explicit)

Derek is pretty much absorbed into the Stilinski family, one meal at a time.

Have You Tried Turning It Off and On Again? by @sophisticatedyet (1/1 | 8776 | Explicit)

Stiles gets a wrong number call from an old man who can't install his antivirus software. He feels like doing a good deed, so he decides to walk him through it.

Derek is not an old man, just a technologically incompetent twenty-six year old TA who has made enemies of the entire UCLA IT department. The helpful stranger he has just accidentally called is about to become Derek's go-to computer guy.

Bittersweet and Strange, Finding You Can Change (Learning You Were Wrong) by WithMyTeeth (8/8 | 49,983 | Explicit)

When perpetual loner and failwolf extraordinaire Derek Hale finally loses patience with his meddling family, he grabs a confused Stiles Stilinski, unsuspecting diner patron and herbal medicine student, off the street to pose as his new boyfriend. Hijinks ensue.

Companionship by exclamation / @jessicameats (42/42 | 85,697 | Explicit)

Companions are elite pleasure slaves, trained in music, dance, poetry, and, especially, sex. Stiles is the worst student in the history of the companion school, so his teachers decide to get rid of him by claiming he is interested in bondage and selling him to someone who'll keep him restrained and gagged.

Derek Hale is lonely and interested in BDSM. Buying a companion with an interest in submission seemed like a good idea at the time, but it turns out Stiles is not what was advertised. Not only does Stiles hate the thought of BDSM, he also has very strong opinions on what constitutes consent, or lack thereof. But keeping Stiles seems a better option than sending him back to the school, so somehow they will have to work this out between them.

Do Not Go Gentle by @mojoflower (51/51 | 195,878 | Explicit)

Derek Hale, Beacon Hills Alpha and Dom, wakes up in a dark cell already housing another captive – a mute, traumatized sub with a cruel collar around his neck. His only goal is to get them both free of their brutal circumstances; but even as he tries to get his young companion home, a bond between them grows. Nothing comes easily: danger and harrowing echoes of their ordeal shadow every step they take.

too long to the weekend by @dizzy-redhead (1/1 | 5,261 | Explicit)

When Derek agreed to show Stiles around Berkeley, he was thinking of Stiles at fifteen, his childhood friend, the son of his mother's best friend.

He was not prepared for Stiles, all grown up.

Married at First Glance by WonderWolf (14/14 | 63,558 | Explicit)

Married at First Glance gives its participants seven weeks. Seven weeks, starting when they meet and marry their “perfect match”, to decide if they want to stay married or divorce.

For Stiles and Derek though, the challenge lies within trying to pretend that they don’t absolutely hate each other’s guts. When you’re married to a werewolf who dislikes humans, however, this can get a little tricky.

But the sweet, sweet cash reward at the end will be worth it. Right?

(A Married at First Sight AU)

Show Me Your Igloo and I'll Show You Mine by @thisdiscontentedwinter (1/1 | 4,943 | Explicit)

Stiles is finally going to meet the online friend he's had for years.

Instead, the hottest guy in the world walks in.

Broken Car, Lemon Bar by inhystereks / @bibliophile246 (6/6 | 27,884 | Mature)

Stiles got out of his car so whoever was coming wouldn't think he was just being an asshole and stopped in the middle of the road on purpose. He almost laughed when he caught sight of the approaching car. A black Camaro. Which meant Derek Hale was the one slowing down to pull up behind him. The town mechanic and also the scariest fucker around.

Oh, sweet irony.

He was exactly the person Stiles desperately needed and was also terrified of.

Perfect.

The Courting Dilemmas of a Spark and a Werewolf Prince by green-leaf (2/2 | 11,472 | Teen)

Talia smiled calmly. “I am well aware that you are not a werewolf, my darling, but I thought this would be the best reading material for you to use as reference. After all, how would you know how to act during a courting ritual if you do not study it?”

“But I don’t... I’m not…” Stiles narrowed his eyes at her. “Are you setting me up with someone?”

Talia rolled her eyes at him. “Don’t be obtuse, my darling. Why would I set you up with someone –”

“Oh, well, that’s good, because–”

“–when I have a son who is already perfectly enamored with you?”

The Accused by @drgrlfriend (1/1 | 5,764 | Mature)

“Remember when I thought I was in love with Kate, and she turned out to be a murderous hunter who killed most of my family and blinded me in the process?”

Erica’s voice was cautious. “Derek — what the fuck — of course I remember, how could you even ask? —”

“Well, my mate is worse,” Derek said flatly.

A Little Less Conversation by Lissadiane (1/1 | 5,626 | Gen.)

Derek has learned to be a good Alpha in most of the ways that count. The problem is, now that he's well-adjusted, safe, and happy, it's time to turn his attention to the one thing he's always sucked at: finding a nice, sweet Omega mate.

Lucky for him, Erica and Stiles have ideas on how to make that as painless as possible.

In which Derek Hale is a failwolf and somehow, ends up going speed dating.

Cheers to more Sterek in 2019!!

#eternalsterek #tag: 2018 #tag: year end round up

270 notes · View notes

carcinojukebox-blog · 6 years ago

Text

OKAY! LET’S BREAK DOWN THIS IRREDEEMABLE NUGGET OF HORSESHIT THAT WAS DROPPED ON ME AS SOON AS I CRACKED OPEN ONE OF MY PEEPERS AFTER MY IMPROMPTU POWERNAP, SHALL WE?

I DON’T KNOW THE OP, AND I COULD NOT CARE LESS ABOUT HIM SINCE OUR LAST INTERACTION AFTER OUR SANGUINE FIRST IMPRESSION ENTAILED HIM TRYING TO CONVINCE ME TWINKS ARE OPPRESSED THANKS TO THE BRAND OF DERISION THEY UNDERGO ON CASUAL ONLINE SPACES. SO WHATEVER, REALLY, HE CAN SAY ANYTHING HE WANTS ABOUT THIS SUBJECT AND I’LL BE LEISURELY SIPPING AT MY DAIQUIRI FROM MY SEAT AT THE NOBODY GIVES A FUCK COCKTAIL LOUNGE AFTER GETTING MY STOCKY ASS PLOWED BY MY HUNKISH BOYFRIEND, NO TWINKS IN SIGHT.

WHAT’S TRULY CHAFING MY NODE HERE ARE THE IMPLICATIONS BEHIND GLITCH REBLOGGING THIS AND PROMPTLY THROWING HIMSELF A PITY PARTY IN THE TAGS. I’M GETTING REALLY SICK OF THIS “COPY” THING GETTING BROUGHT UP QUICKER THAN GLITCH CAN POP A STIFFY AT A NONCOMMITTAL ACT OF KINDNESS FROM A COMPLETE STRANGER EVERY TIME SOMEONE MENTIONS MY NAME OR HE FEELS EVEN JUST A LITTLE BIT DOWN IN THE DUMPS. I’M TIRED! IT WASN’T EVEN THAT BAD! I DIDN’T EVEN FUCKING MEAN IT THE WAY HE INTERPRETED IT AS. WHAT DID I MEAN BY “YOU’RE A CARBON COPY OF MY EX”? GLAD YOU ASKED, LITERALLY NO FUCKING ONE!

kktxt

YEP, THAT'S PRETTY MUCH IT! LEARN TO LOVE YOURSELF FOR A CHANGE AND MOVE ON FROM YOUR FEELINGS FOR ME. BECAUSE THIS IS DOING NOTHING BUT TO CAUSE YOU MISERY. I'M NOT GOING TO KEEP MYSELF FROM LIVING MY LIFE JUST TO KEEP YOU SHELTERED, IN FEAR OF POTENTIALLY HURTING YOU IN CASE SOME CUTE TALL GUY AT STARBUCKS FLASHES ME A KITTENISH GRIN. YOU COULD USE A NEW CRUSH, AND I COULD USE SOME FLIRTING WITH SOMEONE WHO ISN'T A CARBON COPY OF MY EX!

EXHIBIT A: THE ORIGINAL OFFENSE. AS YOU CAN PROBABLY TELL FROM THIS ALLEGED ASSAULT ON GLITCH’S VERY PERSONAL INTEGRITY, THE INTENT BEHIND THE ADMITTEDLY CONVOLUTED MESSAGE WAS SEVERELY MISCONSTRUED IN FAVOR OF SOMETHING GLITCH COULD FLAGELLATE HIMSELF FOR THE NEXT FIVE MONTHS WITH. MY ORIGINAL MEANING? “FLIRTING WITH SOMEONE WHO SHARES ALMOST ALL OF MY NEGLECTFUL EX’S QUALITIES ISN’T HEALTHY FOR ME, AND IT’S PROBABLY AN OBSCURE FORM OF SELF HARM THAT I COULD GO WITHOUT”.

WHAT DID GLITCH GET FROM THAT? “YOU’RE A COPY OF MY EX! I’M SAYING THIS BECAUSE I’M A COMICBOOK VILLAIN WITH NO FEELINGS! DEFINITELY NOT BECAUSE YOU’VE BEEN REFUSING TO LISTEN TO ME THIS ENTIRE CONVERSATION AND BEEN OVERCOME WITH FRUSTRATION AND CANNOT WORD MY THOUGHTS CAREFULLY SO THAT YOU MAY NOT MISCONSTRUE ANYTHING SINCE I’M AN EMOTIONAL FUCKING BEING!”

I’M SICK OF THIS. I’M SICK OF IT GETTING BROUGHT UP AS IF I INTENDED TO HURT HIM TO BEGIN WITH, INSTEAD OF WHAT IT ACTUALLY WAS: A POOR ATTEMPT AT COMMUNICATING WHAT I FEEL. BECAUSE I’M NOT GOING TO DENY IT, I SHOULD HAVE WORDED IT IN A LESS ABRASIVE MANNER, BUT I’M GUESSING MY QUIRK AND SPEECH MANNERISMS DIDN’T HELP, BECAUSE AS SOON AS I SENT THAT? THE ARGUMENT TOOK A DIVE AND WE COULD *NOT* MOVE PAST THIS SUBJECT. NO. FUCK WHATEVER I FELT, WHATEVER I WAS TRYING TO COMMUNICATE. NOW WAS THE TIME TO TALK ABOUT WHAT GLITCH FEELS, BECAUSE I JUST HURT HIM! NEVERMIND THE EMOTIONAL TORTURE HE PUT ME UNDER FOR THE MONTH AND HALF LEADING UP TO THAT CONVERSATION. NONE OF THAT MATTERED ANYMORE, BECAUSE I JUST CALLED HIM A COPY OF ANOTHER DAVE!

YOU CAN EVEN CLICK HERE TO READ HIM NOT GIVE HALF A FUCK ABOUT WHAT I WAS TRYING TO GET ACROSS SINCE ALL HE COULD BRING HIS SELF-ABSORBED ASS TO CARE ABOUT WAS HOW HURT HE WAS AT SOMETHING *HE* MISINTERPRETED.

IS THIS POST USELESS? ABSOLUTELY! BUT SOLLUX DOESN’T NEED ME CAJOLING HIM INTO LISTENING TO WHATEVER THE FUCK THIS IS. THE LAST THING I WANT TO BRING UP TO MY LOVING BOYFRIEND IS HOW UPSET I AM AT A GUY WHO’S BEEN INCESSANTLY ANTAGONIZING HIM JUST BECAUSE I HAPPEN TO KISS THAT MOUTH.

#EGREGIOUS BIRDBRAINED BUFFOON.#[[#long post /#reposted after removing screenshot upon request!

0 notes

kingkatsuki · 2 years ago

Text

Dirty | Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Literally another thirst post that turned into a fic because I have absolutely no constraint. Bakugou was supposed to be more subby in this but I kinda liked the banter? The request was sucking Bakugou off when he’s desperate to piss and here we are. Thank you to whoever sent it in, it had me woozy💕

Summary: You’re out on patrol with your boss Dynamight, but he needs to use the restroom. The only problem? It’s kinda difficult to pee when your pretty little sidekick has you rock hard.

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, no beta, omorashi/piss, Bakugou pisses in our mouth, blowjobs, face fucking, swallowing cum, public sex, a little smidge of degradation (to reader), hinted age gap.

Word Count: 3k.

Bakugou hated the effect you had on him, the way you could get him popping a chub beneath his hero outfit without even trying. It was as if you’d specifically designed your hero costume around trying to torture him, the way the material clung to your body as you walked ahead of him along the streets of Musutafu as you beckoned for him to hurry up.

“Yeah yeah, woman. I’m comin’,” Bakugou rolled his eyes beneath his mask as he came into step beside you, “I thought I told you to stop fuckin’ talking to me like that.”

“You love it really Katsuki, don’t lie.” Any attempts he’d made at spending this patrol without a stiffy had all but disappeared the moment you used his given name. The sound of it sliding off your tongue like smooth silk as Bakugou sucked in a breath through his clenched teeth.

“Fuck,” He muttered beneath his breath.

“What was that?” You raised a brow as you turned to face him, watching the way he pressed his gloved fingers through the loops of his belt with a huff as he adjusted his pants.

“Need’ta piss,” He replied gruffly, already looking for a public urinal that he could escape to for a few moments. If nothing else he’d be able to subdue the raging boner beneath his hero costume for a few moments before returning to patrol.

“So why didn’t you say when we were at the agency?” You huffed in irritation, knowing full well there wasn’t a public restroom around this part of the city.

“Cause I didn’t need to go then, dumbass.”

“I told you not to drink that bottle of water, I said it would go straight through you-” You began to ramble and it irked him, the way you were able to ramble on about something so effortlessly with no clue about what you were doing to him, “Didn’t realise that you lost control of your bladder past thirty, old man.”

“Just shut up– wait here.” Bakugou snarled, slipping down an empty alleyway as he hid behind a large dumpster, fiddling with his belt as you watched at the opening.

Staring intently at the way he bit the middle finger of his glove, keeping it held in his mouth as he pulled it off his hand. The sight of his clenched teeth had your clit throbbing between your thighs as you rubbed them together to give yourself some relief as you decided to face the street. Keeping a lookout for any pedestrians that might be walking by, but this area of the city seemed to be pretty quiet unless it was peak hours when the nightlife had the streets packed to the brim.

“Hurry up, I wanna try and get back to the agency before it starts pissing it down,” You laughed at your own joke as Bakugou turned to glare at you over the garbage bin, lifting his hand to give you the finger as you turned your back to him.

You were tempted to peek, the thought of Bakugou’s hand wrapped around his thick cock had your body pulsing, trying to imagine what he looked like even when his cock wasn’t hard. You weren’t naive, you’d seen the way his trousers would tent when you’d both successfully apprehended a villain, the victory clearly sending a swell of pride directly to his cock.

If only you knew the real reason why he was hard so often around you–

“Fuck,” Bakugou snarled, the word muffled by the glove that was still between his teeth.

The familiar clang of his metal filled the air as he pulled his pants back up, fiddling with the buckle of the utility belt.

“You good?” You called, his vermillion eyes shot you a glare, “Hey– what’s wrong?”

“I can’t go-” He snarled, shoving his glove back on his hand as he moved towards the end of the alley to meet you.

“But I thought you said you were desperate.” You snorted.

“I am,” The questions were irritating him now, the sooner he could get back to the agency and take care of his little problem the better. Fisting his cock in the warm showers at the agency at the thought of you would allow him to kill two birds with one stone, he just had to make its back there.

“So why didn’t you-” You raised a brow in confusion, “Should I walk down the street?”

“No,” He scoffed, shaking his head, “Let’s just go-”

“But you said you were desperate.” You couldn’t help yourself as you looked down at his crotch, noticing the way he shifted his legs from foot to foot as he stood in front of you impatiently, “Oh, you’re hard.”

“Hah?” Bakugou’s eyes widened beneath his hero mask.

“Is that why you can’t go?” You tilted your head to the side and Bakugou could’ve killed you then for looking so fucking cute. You definitely were not helping, his cock throbbed beneath his pants as he felt pre begin to stain his boxers, the fabric sticking to his skin uncomfortably.

“Shut up,” He tried to walk ahead of you, but you were quick to clasp his forearm, “Stop talkin’ shit and let’s just fuckin’ go.”

His bladder ached now, a tight throb in his pelvis as he tried to ignore the sensation. There was no way he’d be able to go with his cock rock hard, and you were going to make sure he stayed hard until the end of this patrol. All he could do is try and imagine the most disgusting and unarousing scenarios imaginable to alleviate the growing tension between his thighs, his nostrils flaring as he tried to take a deep breath.

“Katsuki,” Oh, fuck. You had to go and say his name in that saccharine tone again, his cock pressed dangerously against the fabric of his pants as it demanded freedom. Certain you’d be able to see the thick veins that ran along the underside of his length pulsating against the material as he bit back a moan, “Maybe I can help?”

“No, you can’t,” He grunted, “Hurry the fuck up-”

“But, Katsuki.” You leaned forward to press your palm against the tent in his pants, watching the way his hips jerked messily as he leaned into your touch. Wide eyes looking down at where your hand pressed against him as his cock throbbed painfully.

“Shit,” He hissed, “Don’t fuckin’ do that-” A gloved palm wrapped around your wrist to pull your hand away, but you tightened your grip around his length, fingers finding the shape of him beneath his boxers as he involuntarily rocked into your touch.

“Come on, Dynamight.” You cooed, “You can’t spend the rest of the patrol like this. What would the city think? Let me help you-”

Bakugou felt conflicted as his eyes darted around the empty streets, wondering whether getting caught with his pants around his ankles would be more embarrassing than an article about him having a chub on the job. Allowing you to take his palm in yours as you dragged him back to where he’d been standing moments earlier down the deserted alleyway.

“Be quick,” He grunted, watching your hands slip into the buckle of his utility belt as you undid it, letting the heavy weight of his sweat-filled grenades sag his trousers as it revealed his grey boxers beneath.

Biting down on your bottom lip as you noticed the dark grey patch against his boxers where his pre had soaked through the fabric, licking your lips at the sight.

“You sure you didn’t go already, Katsu?” You laughed at the way his cheeks flushed at the words, his gloved palms already moving to tug his pants back up before you stopped him, “–Wait! I was only joking, Kats– please?”

“Didn’t fuckin’ piss my pants.” He grumbled, cheeks a dark red as you reached out to wrap your palm around his length through his boxers, jerking him softly.

“I know,” You cooed, “Sexy that you’re this turned on though.”

Bakugou’s eyes clenched shut as you stroked him through his pants, certain that if he took one look at you with the way you were touching him, you’d have him coming in his underwear. Deft fingers slipped beneath the hem of his boxers to tug them down just enough to free his aching cock, the heavy weight of it had it drooping towards his thighs as you licked your lips at the sight. The swollen head was slick with pre as it beaded at the slit, thick veins scattered along his girth to make him appear larger than he was, which was no mean feat. He was huge. No wonder you were always able to see him hard during his shifts, you were certain his length would still be impressive soft.

“Hurry the fuck up,” Bakugou spoke, but there was no real malice behind his words, “‘nd don’t make a mess.”

“So bossy,” You laughed softly, as you dropped down onto your knees.

“What are you doing?” Bakugou’s eyes widened beneath his mask at the sight of you looking up at him from between his thighs.

“Helping you,” You replied simply before leaning forward and swiping your tongue against the bead of pre that leaked from the tip of his cock.

“Jesus,” Bakugou threw his head back with a resounding bang as it knocked against the brick wall. His hips jerked roughly at the sensation, nudging the fat tip against your cheek as you smiled up at him. Noticing the way his eyes were clenched shut as he tried to open them to small slits to peek down at you, grinning as you repeated the motion.

“Is this okay?” You leaned forward again, this time taking the tip of his cock inside your mouth as you sucked softly, watching his nose scrunch as he clenched his teeth.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, woman.” He groaned, “It fuckin’ hurts,”

“Poor baby,” You coo, “Then why don’t you just relax and let me help you.”

The tip of your tongue presses into the slit of his cock as Bakugou hissed at the sensation, his hips cant forward to nudge his tip against your lips. Opening your mouth to take him deeper, feeling the heavy weight of his cock on your tongue as you stare up at him with sweet eyes that only serve to heighten his desire. Humming softly to send pleasurable vibrations around his cock as you begin to set a languid pace, bobbing your head along his length as you reach a hand up to paw at his thick balls.

“Oh, fuck.” He snarled as your tongue salved against the bottom of his length, following the pattern of one of the thick veins along the underside as you sucked his cock.

Bakugou’s chest was concaving as he tried to ignore the harsh throb in his bladder from his desperation to piss, the sensation throbbed through his lower half as it fought to take over his pleasure.

Your cheeks hollowed as you sucked him with more vigour, the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat with each forward motion as the hairs at the base tickled your nose. Your cunt throbbed with neglect as you squeezed your thighs together, trying to give your clit some much-needed stimulation as your tongue continued to swirl along the underside of his length.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Bakugou continued to mumble incoherently as he began to rock his hips into your touch, pushing his cock deeper inside your mouth as he balled his hands into fists at his sides, unsure where to place his hands as he continued to watch you worship his cock.

Your free hand moved to wrap around his wrist, your fingers barely connecting as you moved his hand to the back of your head. Encouraging him to hold onto you as he splayed his hand against your hair, wishing he wasn’t wearing gloves so you could feel his skin against yours. But you could still feel the warmth of him through the material as he began to guide your movements, pressing you down harder against his cock as you gagged around him.

“Fuck, sweetheart.” He groaned huskily, “Sound so fuckin’ pretty gagging for me like that.”

His words made you want to do it again, pressing yourself forward to take as much of his cock inside your mouth as you could. Blinking back the tears that clung to your lashes as you gagged around him again, a mixture of spit and pre began to drool down your chin. Pulling back for a moment to catch your breath as silvery lines connected you to his length before moving forward to pull him back inside your mouth.

“Shit,” Bakugou hissed as he used his grip to hold you down against his cock, the sensation of you gagging around him had shivers running down his spine as he almost forgot how desperately he needed to urinate. The only thing on his mind was how pretty you looked with your lips wrapped around his cock, an image he’d been fucking his fist to for months– ever since he’d been introduced to you in his office as his new sidekick. But there was nothing in this world that could’ve prepared him for how ethereal you looked on your knees for him now, his fantasies paled in comparison as he tried to commit the sight to memory, “So fuckin’ pretty, princess.”

You keened at his praise, one of your fingers brushed against his taint as you massaged his balls, trying to coax his climax out of him as he lazily rocked his hips into your touch.

“So, damn, good,” Each word was pronounced with a rut of his hips as he found himself closer to his climax.

“You gonna cum for me, Katsu?” You cooed, half-lidded eyes gazing up at him from under your lashes as your palm moved to pump his cock softly.

“I dunno if I even can,” He groaned, “Shit hurts.”

“Poor, baby.” You whispered condescending, your lips curling into a small smile, “I know you can do it, Katsuki. I know you wanna– don’t you want me to make you cum?”

“Fuck– shit– yes– fuck,” He began to ramble as you took him inside your warmth again, sucking him with more vigour as you fondled his balls, working him towards his release, “I’m gonna fuckin’ cum.”

You hummed around his cock as you sucked him hard, humming to send pleasurable vibrations along his length as he began to quiver against you. His fingers dug into your scalp through the glove as he held your head steady, shamelessly thrusting his hips against your lips as he fucked your face. Using you for his own release as he began to sway on the edge of his climax, waiting for something to have him flying over the edge as you gave his balls a final rough squeeze. His ass clenching as a slew of obscenities left his lips. Banging his head against the wall again as he came, emptying white warm spurts of cum inside your eager mouth.

“I’m– fuck, I’m sorry–” He grunted through throngs of pleasure, “I should’ve fuckin’ said I didn’t think– oh fuck,”

You pulled back with a wet pop as you continued to squeeze his still painfully hard cock, swallowing his cum as you smiled up at him eagerly, still stroking his cock.

“Get off,” Bakugou tried to move away from you as he felt the forgotten throb begin in his bladder again, feeling the wall inside his urethra switch as he allowed himself to succumb to the relief, “Gonna fuckin’ piss-”

You made no attempt to move as you stared up at him expectantly, the sight already had Bakugou’s hips stuttering as you pinned him against the wall. With nowhere to go, and his resolve crumbled he began to release a warm stream of pee against your face and chest.

You held his cock with uncertainty as you tried to direct the stream towards your mouth, feeling the warmth of it hit your tongue before it trickled down against your hero outfit and onto the cool ground of the alleyway.

“Jesus christ,” Bakugou groaned at the way you shamelessly opened your mouth for him, your tongue slipping out to show him your mouth empty of his cum and now tasting the stream of his piss as it trickled out of his cock, “You dirty slut.”

It was a different kind of euphoria that Bakugou felt after coming so hard, finally releasing the tension in his bladder. Feeling lightheaded as he rested his head against the dirty wall, his chest heaving as he tried to regain his breath as he continued to empty his bladder with you between his thighs. There was something so depraved, so lewd about having his sweet little sidekick on her knees for him in such a public setting. Especially knowing that you were so far away from the agency and you were going to have to walk back completely covered in him. His pelvis quivered at the thought as a possessive dominance washed over him at the sight of you so eager on your knees– a complete and utter mess for him.

“Good boy,” You cooed, giving his soft cock a shake as the stream began to thin out before pressing the tip of your thumb against his slit when it stopped, licking your lips as you gazed up at him with doe-like eyes. Bakugou’s teeth clenched together as he could already feel his semi-hard cock throbbing back to attention as you pressed a soft kiss to the tip.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it? Didn’t think the great Dynamight would get performance anxiety taking a piss.” You teased, sticking your tongue out at him before licking your lips.

Bakugou’s nostrils flared at the condescending tone of your voice, his hands rough as they pulled you up from your knees, feeling a slight ache in your legs from lack of use as you stumbled against the wall. Your cheek pressed against it as Bakugou rut his hips against your ass, his breath warm against the side of your face as his lips brushed your ear, “Do you wanna say that again, little girl?”

#tw:piss #trigger:piss #bakugou smut #bakugou x reader #bakugou thirst #jo thirsts #thirst posts

1K notes · View notes