#slick wore down his teeth over time from grinding them

[nivisdreaming]

Kinktober Day 3: Hate Sex - Katsuki Bakugo x Fem!Reader

WC: 1.5k

CW: Roommates!AU, dom!Katsuki, sub!reader, hate sex, degradation, protectiveness, jealousy, marking, humiliation, oral sex (f!receiving), PiV, multiple orgasms, creampie, breeding, spitplay, squirting, very little aftercare

“What the fuck are you doing back so late?!” Growls Katsuki from his spot on the sofa as he glares daggers at you. You shoot a glance at your phone, confirming it’s past 2 in the morning.

“The fuck do you care? You’re my roommate, not my father or some shit, I’m not under curfew!” You cross your arms in front of your chest.

Katsuki stands and begins to approach you slowly. “Tell. Me. Where. You. Were.” His fists clench at his side. “Were you getting fucked by some loser in a bar bathroom? Giving a druggie a blowjob in a back alley? Showing off your tits to make the cash for rent because you know there’s no way in hell I’m covering for you again?” He backs you against the front door, red eyes piercing through you, “Tell me, princess.”

You have to admit, for a moment you are intimidated. And also a little aroused, based on the way your thighs squeeze together. But the second Bakugo calls you that nickname, your hate for him reappears at the forefront of your mind. “It’s none of your fucking business, dickhead. It’s my life, you have no claim over it!”

You snap at him, and he shows no apprehension towards snapping back, in the form of sinking his teeth in the pulse of your neck. The sudden pain has you gasping and squirming in his grasp, trying to escape how his tongue lathes over the aching mark. He finally pulls back and you have no hesitation in slapping him. “The fuck are you doing?!”

He growls, a devious smirk growing over his face at the sting of your palm. “I’m putting my claim over you, brat.” He dives back into your throat, sucking red and purple bruises into the skin until you are breathless and whimpering in his grasp.

He pulls up for air and you gaze into his blown-wide pupils, gently panting as your hips buck in search of friction. Katsuki groans as you finally find purchase grinding your clothed clit on the bulge of his sweats. “Princess, if you don’t want this you have to tell me now. Otherwise, I’m going to tear you apart tonight. Back out now, or you’re gonna be getting much more action than that pitiful little vibrator you use has been giving you every night,” he whispers into the shell of your ear. You plea back, wasting no time begging him to ruin you as your continually grinding as the band in your stomach pulling taunt already.

He easily lifts you with your legs wrapped around his waist and carries you to his bedroom. He drops you unceremoniously on the bed and tugs the tight skirt you wear off. He glowers at your clothed crotch, “Desperate slut. You wore these panties because you were hoping to get fucked tonight, didn’t ya?” He lands a strike right over your clit, forcing a pained howl out of you. “Such a pain in my ass, going out every night trying to get railed, only to come back disappointed and turning to some worthless plastic to get you off instead. You’re just never satisfied, are you princess? No matter how much I hear you moan through the walls, you never seem to be truly finished. It’s pathetic.”

He hooks a finger in the gusset of your thong and tugs, ripping them off you. You slap at his hand in protest with a disapproving whine, but he uses it as his chance to thread your fingers into his hair before diving headfirst into your pussy. You moan in surprise as he slurps the slick that leaks from your entrance.

His tongue wastes no time in beginning to explore, licking up and down both sides of your inner lips, biting marks on your thighs, spitting on your clit, and sucking it until you’re writhing against the strong arms that he uses to pin you down.

You tug endlessly on his locks, whining with tears pin-pricking your eyes. “Kat! Katsuki! P-please, I’m close, please!” You whine. You swear you feel him snicker into your cunt before he bites down on your clit, embarrassingly sending you over the edge with a scream. Waves of pleasure roll over you as he holds down your squirming hips and laps up your release as it spills from you.

You’re unsure how long he keeps you there, milking every drop of your orgasm, before your hand falls limp from his head and he finally allows you a moment of reprieve while he moves upward to pull off your top and bra, followed by his own layers of clothing. He leans over you, breath warm over your face as he seemingly stares at your lips like he’s debating something. Impatient, you’re the one to surge forward and connect your lips to his, swallowing his air and shoving your tongue into his mouth without waiting to set a pace. Katsuki, recovered from the startle of you initiating the kiss, quickly reclaims dominance with a simple hand wrapped around your throat, not yet applying pressure.

His other hand sneaks down to rub circles over your clit, sending stars swirling in your vision due to the sensitivity of your last orgasm. You moan and whine into his mouth, giving him the chance to use his tongue to explore yours as he switches from your clit to stroking his dick in preparation. His face pulls away a few inches and he taps his tip against your clit, laughing at the way you jolt. “Beg for it, baby, beg me to fuck you,” he coos.

You pant back at him, strings of meaningless babble falling from you as you struggle to find words through the fog of your mind. He teases you by pressing against your open and nudging just a half inch into you before pulling out, sending a tear falling down your cheek at his bullying.

“‘Suki, s-suki, no tease, please! P-please! Please sir, I need, I n-need cock! Need your cock! Do anything, please!” You choke out a sob of relief when he finally pushes further into you, splitting you open on his width. The pain sends electric shocks through your spine and more tears freefall from your eyes. He hits the back of your walls, tip pressed right up into your spongy spot, and everything crumbles around you as you start to come around him.

Bakugo hisses when he feels you start to rhythmically contract around him, your second orgasm triggered just by him sliding his dick inside. He knows he should hold still until you calm down, but his selfish desire to wreck you wins out as he sets a slow but mean pace, slamming into you with each thrust.

He loves how you tremble under him, your body still unconsciously pushing back to meet every snap of his hips. “Made you cum twice and you’re still such a greedy slut,” He spits into your open mouth, “Do you need me to fill you up? Is getting bred what it’s gonna take to satisfy you, princess?”

You nod ferociously and it sparks a feral increase in the speed of his thrusts, both hands moving to pin your thighs on either side of your stomach and force you into a mating press. “Fuck, I can do that for you brat, I’ll fill you with every drop, just give me one more,” He angles his body downwards so the bottom of his happy trail grinds against your clit with every meeting of your bodies, “Come on my cock one more time princess, come while your roommate fucking breeds you, baby,” He nips over the bite mark on your neck from earlier, and everything inside you snaps. A gush of fluid flies out of you and splashes on his lower stomach as your eyes roll to the back of your skull and your jaw falls slack in a soundless scream.

Katsuki feels you clamp down on him, and the warm sensation of your squirt on his dick, and it sends him off the edge with you. He cums thick ropes with his cock buried inside you, his legs quivering with the force of his orgasm. He stays like that, savoring the way you milk his balls for all their worth as he kisses the tears from your face and you come back to him with a flutter of your eyelids. He stares into your watery eyes, gaze turned from the glare earlier to now pure adoration as he lands a final peck on your lips and slips out of you before laying by your side and nuzzling up close to you. He wraps his hold around your middle, resting his head in the curve of your neck with a content sigh and promptly falling asleep listening to your still-recovering heartbeat.

#kinktober 2023 #sub!reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou smut #katsuki bakugou x reader smut #bakugou katsuki #katsuki smut #bakugou x reader

[dollwritesarchive]

𝒶𝒻𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓎 ⎹ 𝓕.𝓛.

❝ ғᴀɴᴅᴏᴍ ⤻ twisted wonderland / @dollsotome-library

❝ ғᴇᴀᴛᴜʀᴇᴅ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀs ⤻ floyd leech x reader ( f! )

❝ ʀᴀᴛɪɴɢ ⤻ nsfw! none of my writings are meant for anyone under the age of 18, and any minors interacting will be blocked on site.

❝ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs ⤻ literally all smut because i’m a whore, oral sex / face fucking, semi public sex, spit kink, orgasm denial, degradation, floyd should come with his own warning

❝ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ⤻ 1.5k / mini musing

❝ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴍᴇ ⤻ i do not consent to having my work reposted / translated / stolen in any capacity for any reason. please reblog and leave a comment to support content creators! my work is very rarely proof read so mistakes may be present. all characters / pairings i write for are 18+ with no exceptions. enjoy!

you could stay like this for hours.

sure, your knees were tender from being dug against the floor for so long, and the corners of your mouth were starting to ache; your jaw tight and sore, and your arm was getting tired from the relentless pumping.

but then, he moaned like that and none of the discomfort mattered anymore.

you could stay like this for hours as long as it meant he kept making those sounds.

a soft, breathy whine of your name, and your eyes flickered up. they trail along the length of his torso, tracing the join of his purple button down until it ends and the taut, slick skin of his sweating, heaving chest began. you’d already marked his porcelain flesh with teeth and tongue from collarbone to earlobe, leaving thick, purple marks in the shape of your kiss, and your gaze leap-frogged from lovebite to lovebite upwards over his clavicle and neck. he always wore your signatures with pride, brandishing them like brand new tattoos for all to see. now was no exception— he catches you staring and his mouth twists into a wicked smirk, flashing sharpened teeth.

“You like to watch me, angelfish?” he croons, golden gaze glimmering. “Wanna see how good you can make me feel?” you would’ve nodded, if your head wasn’t bobbing— mouth full of his cock. still, Floyd expected some kind of answer, so you manage a garbled mhm and pair it with a flutter of your lashes, begging him to give you a show. in the dimmed glow of the Mostro Lounge, he was celestial, bathed in aquamarines. long legs spread, kicked out for you to fit right between them. once the lounge closed for the night, it had been all too easy the moment he plopped down at one of the empty tables for you to follow and drop to your knees.

it was almost pathetic just how wrapped around his finger you were.

“Haaa…” it’s a shaky exhale, his lids slitting when you swirl your tongue around the swollen head of his cock, teasing the most sensitive portion with the very tip of your velvety muscle. to ensure that not a single inch of him is neglected, you squeeze your fist around his thickness, pumping from the very base to tip, kissing the side of your hand with each stroke. you’re gifted with a drizzle of precum for your fervent flicking— the rawest form of his desire intoxicating you the very second it coats your tastebuds. “That’s it,” he whines, and even though you want to close your eyes and savor him, you’re entranced by the visage of him writhing in the chair, his jagged pearls grinding with his jaw sewn tight, “Like that… please…” you were already obeying, pumping faster, sucking harder. it wasn’t so often that anyone made Floyd this docile or hopeless, and you would be lying to say that it didn’t make you feel like a goddess.

that was, of course, until you felt the weight of his hand on the top of your head.

you half expect him to push down, force his entirety down your throat. it wouldn’t have been the first time, and so you allowed your jaw a moment to relax, so maybe (fingers crossed) you wouldn’t gag on him this time.

but Floyd’s willowy fingers comb through your hair, grasping the very roots to urge your head back. his cock slips from your swollen lips, and you lean back, falling on the cool, hard floor on your bum. you hadn’t noticed how wet you were until you felt the damp patch of your panties shift against you. you did love sucking him off.

Floyd is beaming; grinning ear to ear in the sleaziest way, his eyes twinkling as he hunches forward, leaning close. “Lemme see here, open that pretty cocksucker!” he exclaims, breathing hot air on your lips until they hang open in acquiescence. your own breath is heavy and excited, the tip of your tongue hanging out over your bottom tier. “So submissive,” Floyd purrs, “and you love every minute of being my bitch.” he didn’t have to ask— he knew you did, and he emphasized his certainty by shoving his free hand into your uniform skirt and panties so abruptly that you squeak and arch your back when he cups your sex.

“Flo—“

“Shut up,” he mutters, but his tone isn’t malicious. he’s staring at you with the fondest, hungriest eyes you’ve ever seen, “you’re so cute, angelfish!” his tongue slithers out swiping over his teeth, before curling under yours. at first, you think he wants to play, and you twist yours, but his lips envelop your tongue, instead, and he suckles on it as he rubs you, the tips of his first two fingers zeroed in on your clitoris to coax it with hard spearing to swell further. you mewl, grinding your hips in sync with his massage, riding his fingers until they’re soaked. Floyd grins, dragging the edges of his teeth over your tastebuds before he lets go, taking a second to stare at your countenance. your eyes were closed, mouth open wide and tongue dangling for him, and lusty whimpers drip from your tiers. “Is it so sensitive?” he teases, excited and he chortles when you nod, “Look at you, getting all worked up from just my fingers. You’re just so easy it’s both pathetic and adorable. I could do anything to you, couldn't i? I could get away with anything as long as I keep playing with this little pussy.” he wasn’t wrong, either. you were rubbing yourself on his hand like a bitch in heat, begging to cum and moaning for him, and all he had to do was sit there and let you.

you definitely weren’t expecting what happens next, however. his tongue disappears back into his mouth and he works it around for a moment, before his lips pucker and he launches a mouthful of spit into your open cavern. you flinch when your lips are peppered with his saliva, but resist the urge to lick it up; instead, allowing it to dribble down to your chin in thin strips.

“Wanna… cum…” you breathe out, eyelids fluttering. you were already on the cusp, your stomach knotting up, muscles pulling taut, back arching. you could feel it tugging at you, eager to spread like wildfire and engulf you. Floyd watches you, even more enthralled, and suddenly snatches his hand away, leaving you unfulfilled. you whine, eyes wide and disappointed as your hips quiver. “W—wait—“

“I don’t want you to.” Floyd replies, careless as he brings his hand up. he spreads each digit in front of your face, showing you just how messy you were. his fingers were coated in shine, and strings of slick web them together, “Teasing you is so much more fun.”

“Floyd!” you whine, sitting up on your knees and rubbing your thighs together in hopes to stimulate you enough, but it was too late; the pending orgasm had already melted. “Please!”

“Nuh uh,” he answers with a roll of his eyes, smearing his sticky fingers over your open mouth, forcing you to taste yourself and making a bigger mess of your face, “and stop using that warm fuckhole to bug me about it and wrap your lips around my cock again.” the hand that had been idle in your hair pushes your head down again, and you welcome him into your mouth again with a gurgled moan. “Azul and Jade will be back soon, and you know how much they love to ruin our play time in the lounge, so hurry up and make me cum.” you look up at him, eyelashes wet, as he uses the grip on your hair to dribble your head on him until you’re drooling, bobbing helplessly, and your moans are broken clucks. Floyd takes one look at you like that and exhales in adoration, “and I’ll take you back to my room and tie you up with my scarf. Then, I’ll tongue fuck your greedy, little pussy until you cry.”

#floyd leech smut #floyd leech x mc #floyd leech x reader #floyd leech #floyd leech imagines #twisted wonderland smut #twisted wonderland x you #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twst x mc #twst x you #twst smut #twst imagines #anime #otome #Disney

[vampyuii]

Punished well -------------------------------

Koby x pirate!reader

porn w plot ... light bdsm, teasing, hair pulling, possessive koby (if you squint) afab!reader, ripping of clothing, implied over stimulation, thigh riding + koby is trans

gained pirate reader as inspo from @tinfairies , im just juicing out an anon i sent to them but please please pleeease check them out, luv dem sm

----------------------------18+----------------------------

you are responsible for the media you consume ( `-3-)

sneaking into a navy base was never hard, but trying not to wake Koby as you entered his room was the worst, watching as he slept, glasses on the side of his pillow leaving to show his pretty lashes, wearing a baggy white t-shirt ever so slightly rolled up so you can see his v-line, his thin blanket covering his lower body as he laid under it with only his boxers hiding away his most private and delicate parts. drool filled your mouth by just thinking of pouncing on him and giving him the attention he so so needed, but that would ruin his surprise... wouldn't it?

beautiful baby pink laced panties hugged you, a small bow sitting at the front of them bringing out your curves so nicely. you knew Koby would love them, maybe he'd get to keep them with the other pairs you've hidden in his pockets on your encounters, but only if he behaved. Greedy boys don't get rewarded, Koby knew that full well.

slipping off your shorts you slowly crawled over his stature, slowly wiggling your way under his sheet. You watched his facial expressions as you placed small pepper kisses all over his stomach, moving up to his neck and then his jaw. Slowly his eyes lightened and let him see, reaching for his glasses as he felt a pair of familiar lips grace him all over.

"mmnh..? oh..? OH! Y/N you're here oh my.. oh my god i missed you so much you have no idea-" cutting himself off by giving the love he missed the most a deep kiss "I said I'd be back.." a once simple kiss getting heated in the moment, but I mean who can blame you both. Finally touching his skin without worry of waking him, your hands roamed every curve and dip in his body. Koby couldn't help but moan at your touch, feeling him grind his thighs together from under you make you hungry. lifting yourself up off of his lap you showed off your pretty laced panties. His eyes widened, cheeks becoming flushed and his lip goes to get trapped between his teeth. "baby.. i missed you so much ya' know that r-right?" snaking his hands around your hips pulling you up to his face.

Pepper kisses were bombed over your thighs, sucking and nibbling on your plush skin made the space between his thigh soak with his own slick. Not trying to waste anymore time his pace quickened as he rolled you over to your back, fingers slipping under the thin cloth blocking him from your sweet honey covered cunt. "m' sorry.. i just- i need you."

The panties you wore made it difficult to touch you, poor baby had no other choice... could you really blame him for ripping the baby pink undies off of you? Koby groaned at the sight of you, dipping his head between your thighs before being stopped so quickly.

"koby, my sweet baby."

"y-yes..?"

"whatcha do that for my love?" he could tell he fucked himself over. the look in your eyes now harsh compared to the dripping of your plush pussy.

"i.. i ju- im sorry i just couldn't.. i needed to-"

"you didn't need to do anything, you got too greedy 'oby." pulling him to meet you face to face by his hair, his glasses fogged up from him panting like a stupid dog. giving him a small peck on the lips before getting up from your spot, and taking out his worn down laces from his shoes. Koby looked so lost, poor baby just wanted to make his love feel good, he just wanted to make his pirate feel amazing.

crawling back over him, you harshly grabbed his wrists and began tying them to the frame of his twin sized bed. eyes darting all over the place Koby was worried... what did he do wrong? why was he being punished? slipping off his boxers you watching a line of his own slick stick to his cloth, his poor cunt was just begging for you, it was drooling over you.

"you know i dont like greedy boys Koby.." blowing a bit of cool air over his soaked pussy, making him shudder under you. "please i- what.. im sorry just, no just let me go pleas- please baby.." grinding his hips into nothing, you backed away to the other side of the bed, slipping your finger between your folds making SURE Koby was watching your every move.

“Please I’m- I won’t do it again I promise, just ple-please let me go..” he can’t stand watching your fingers dip in and out of yourself, he needs it to be his fingers. But greedy boys don’t get what they want. and he’s gotta learn that the hard way..

you tried touching yourself the way your baby boy did, even though it didn't feel as euphoric as it did with him, you made sure he knew he fucked up. Punishing Koby was your least favorite thing, not only were you punishing him but yourself as well.. you could never reach the spot his perfect slim fingers did, the way his thumb would trace over your clit in between the kisses and sucks he'd give it.

“why should I koby?” spoken in a groan, your clit was aching for Koby, you both knew that. But he can’t get what he wants.. no, what he needs, because he doesn’t deserve it right now. Good boys learn how to behave. Even if it meant playing with yourself in front of him.

“mommy please.. I'll make you feel so good, you- fuck... you can use me however you want.. just- untie me.” he didn’t mean to rip off your new pretty panties, he didn’t know they were his gift from you , he was just so so hungry for you, but you knew that.. right? Rubbing his thighs together trying to get some sort of relief off of his enlarged clit, pretty baby was so wet, and all for you.. “Need you so bad baby please”

Moaning out his name you just couldn't take it anymore. Koby would have to fully learn his lesson another time, right now you needed him. finally giving in you hurried back over to him, quickly dragging your soaked cunt across his thigh while smashing your lips against his. Your warm breasts sat comfortably against his chest. Humping and grinding on his thighs as he let the most erotic whines and moans into your throat.

Bouncing his thigh to the rhythm of your hips you could feel the hot knot twist and turn in your tummy "k-kobyy... cant oh- my god" both of your tongues making messes of each other while the knot in your stomach unfolded, shaking heavily you came undone. Koby slowed the bounce of his thigh he watched you go through your first orgasm.

hands slowly moving from his hips you removed the laces around his wrists, Koby didn’t waste any time, gently moving you on your back while his soft slender hands roamed your body as his mouth find its way to your pussy.

"Missed you so much mommy..." He didn’t care how drenched he was anymore "fuck... I missed this pussy so much.." he needed you.

As his tongue touched your gooey flesh, you knew tonight wasn't gonna be over quickly..

Your baby was gonna make sure you ended tonight content and happy. He was gonna make sure you ended tonight covered in his markings. Koby was gonna make sure you felt just as good as the firsts.

#blood sucker`~ #vamps anon #vampyuii #one piece #one piece live action #koby one piece #captain koby

[copias-girl]

Pamper Your Papa Part IV

Papa IV x Reader Smut

Read Part I, Part II, Part III first <3

A/N: It’s only fair that a fic about our dear Papa IV should have IV parts! This was originally just going to be a one part fic, so thank you very very much to everyone who left sooo many wonderful comments and encouraged me to write more! Being that this was my first fic, it really means so much to me! 🖤 p.s. sorry it took mf 9 millennia to post this lol

•♥︎♥︎♥︎•

“Papa- Please-” You moaned in between kisses, licking into each other’s mouths, pulling at each other’s hair.

“Mmm, tell me, tesoro. Tell Papa what you want.” He groaned, so worked up just from you being on top of him like this.

“I want- I.. I need you, Papa.” You whimpered, bringing him in for another desperately searing kiss. He moaned into it and reached down, gloved hands splaying over your ass, his fingertips just barely brushing against where you needed him most.

“But I’m right here, dolcezza.” He teased, nipping at your lower lip and causing you to whine, grinding on him harder harder harder, desperately seeking friction.

“No, I need-” You moaned, lips parted and eyes fluttering closed for a moment. You could feel how painfully hard his cock was, you just knew it would already be throbbing and leaking for you.

“You need what, amore? Papa won’t know unless you tell him.” He said, licking your lips, tasting you, squeezing your ass and driving you crazy.

“Your cock! I need- I need your cock, Papa please-” You managed to moan out, cheeks flushed red hot.

“Ah, my cock? You like Papa’s cock, si?” He groaned, grinding up into you and making your eyes roll back.

“Yesyesyes.” You chanted. It was embarrassing how wet you were, your slick soaking right through your panties and dripping onto your Papa’s pants.

Copia hooked a finger in your panties, stretching them and snapping them against your hip, making you yelp.

He watched with half-lidded eyes as you pulled away from him to unbutton the black silk pyjama shirt you wore- his shirt- still grinding on him as you slipped it from your shoulders and tossed it across the room.

Copia muttered out a curse in Italian, hands immediately coming to massage your breasts and pinch at your nipples, causing you to keen for him, arching your back beautifully.

“Così bellissima…” He sighed, pulling you down to capture you in another kiss.

“You have broken an old man, you know that, dolcezza? Sono rotto…” He whispered against your lips, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours, pressing loving kisses to your cheeks.

“I know, Papa.” You grinned, nipping at him, grazing your teeth against his jawline and making him shiver, making him moan, making him grind harder against you until it was nearly too much.

You fisted the soft fabric of his VVLGARI t-shirt, your kisses becoming more and more desperate, messy, erratic; all teeth and tongues and obscene moans as you pulled at each other.

Copia continued to grope you, his hand finally finding its way between your legs where you were grinding on him so deliciously. You lifted up slightly so he could touch you, and even through his gloves he could feel how soaked you were. Your panties were completely drenched all the way through, with your slick beginning to drip onto him.

“You’ve ruined my pants, tesoro.” He tsked, eyeing the big wet spot.

“I think your big leaky cock is partially to blame.” You countered pointedly, making him blush red red red. You absolutely loved how much precum oozed out of that man, and you adored the way he would get so flustered every time you pointed it out.

You slowly kissed the tip of Papa’s nose, then pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, causing his lips to part in a sigh.

You licked over his lips, his teeth, his tongue, thoroughly tasting him as he rubbed your aching pussy through your panties, his movements firm but maddeningly slow.

Biting your lip, Copia took you by surprise and grabbed your waist, flipping the both of you over so that he was on top, resting between your legs.

“Okie dokie, bella… Papa will give you what you need.” He decided, dark-socketed eyes gazing down at you, and you exhaled in relief.

“Thank you Papa..” You whimpered, lifting your hips and making it easier as the man slid your soaked panties off.

Your cheeks burned with shame as Copia let out a little chuckle at their ruined state, taking pride in the fact that he did that to you. You watched with wide eyes as he brought them to his face, mismatched eyes fluttering closed and inhaling deeply, before tossing them across the room with a little smirk.

You opened your mouth to beg, but your Papa hushed you before you could even get a word out.

“Be patient for Papa, si?” He asked, but it was more of a statement. You nodded, breath quickening in anticipation as he slid down your body, pushing your legs apart wider. You closed your eyes, ready to feel the sensation of Copia’s wet tongue deliciously lapping at you, but after what felt like an eternity of bracing yourself, it never came.

You opened your eyes, casting a confused glance down to find the man just… staring. Staring directly at your dripping pussy.

Your blush deepened impossibly more, cherry red, humiliation washing through you as he hungrily stared at your most intimate place.

Being eaten out or fingered was one thing, but being just stared at felt completely different. You squirmed, trying to close your legs, but Papa’s gloved hands firmly kept you open and on display for him.

“P-Papa, what are you-“

“Let Papa look, dolcezza.” Copia interrupted you, his tone chastising. “So pretty and pink and wet for me…” He murmured to himself. Taking two fingers, he parted your lips, causing you to gasp as he finally made contact with your slit. You thought he would finally start touching you, start giving you relief, but he just sat there, spreading your pussy open and gawking lewdly like a pervert. His pupils were blown wide, licking his lips as he watched an embarrassing amount of slick drip out of you.

You whined and squirmed, silently begging for him to do something, anything.

Copia leaned in, pressing one single kiss right to your throbbing little clit, causing you to cry out and arch into his touch. It was both too much and not enough all at the same time.

He kept his lips pressed there, humming slightly in satisfaction and sending shockwaves through your body. His one hand was gripping your hip while the fingers of his other hand gently teased your entrance, tears threatening to spill from your eyes as your desperation grew.

Fuck, you and your Papa just loved teasing each other so much. You loved flustering him just as much as he loved doing the same to you. You loved watching each other grow more and more frustrated, reduced to nothing more than a crying mess.

You nearly screamed when he finally licked a single hot stripe up your slit, humming in delight at your taste before going in for more. Your Papa fucked you with his skilled tongue, wet and slippery, and all the while you whined and cried and moaned for him, all for him.

“Please- Papa, please!” You sobbed out, fingers tangled in Copia’s soft grey hair, his nose pressing into your clit perfectly.

Before you could cum, he pulled away, licking his lips as he crawled back up your body and pulled his cock out of his pants.

His painted eyes met yours as he stroked himself over you, letting out a shaky moan. His poor cock was so hard it must have been painful; copious amounts of delicious precum leaking from the flushed and swollen head. You reached out, gathering the precum onto your finger, Copia hissing as you teased him ever so slightly, circling the pad of your finger over his sensitive slit and relishing in the way his mouth fell open and little whimpers tumbled from him.

You brought that finger to your lips, making a show of licking it clean.

“Please fuck me, Papa, I need your cock.” You begged him with those bedroom eyes of yours, and that was all he needed.

Rubbing the head of his cock against your slick entrance, you both moaned loudly, and soon he was pushing into your tight heat.

Copia’s mouth hung open, groaning and panting as he forced his way in, inch by inch by inch. Satanas, he had such a big fucking cock.

You whined, feeling your little pussy stretch around him, taking him all in. You wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, desperately needing to ground yourself to something.

Copia gave the both of you a breather once he was fully inside, gazing down into your eyes, your chests heaving as lust burned inside you.

“Oh, Papa!” You cried out when he started moving, pulling out out out before thrusting in in in, filling you so deeply. It was torture, so fucking good and you didn’t know what to do with yourself. You tugged Copia’s hair, pulling him into a hot kiss and biting his lip as you grew restless with his slow thrusts. Moaning, he picked up the pace, gripping your hips tightly and rutting into you roughly.

“Yes! Yesyesyes! Papa- fuck- More! Please- Aaah! Harder!” You begged, letting out a scream as he fucked into you with more force, the intricate headboard slamming against the wall.

“You like that, dolcezza?” He asked, voice threatening to waver with a moan.

“Yes, Papa!”

“You like getting fucked by an old man?”

“Aaah! Yes, Papa!!” You squealed, snaking your hands under his shirt and raking your nails down his back, causing him to cry out in sweet sweet pain. It only made his hard cock twitch inside you.

“You… fuck- You like your dear old Papa fucking your young little pussy? So tight and unused by anyone but me- Ah, cazzo!” He gasped out.

“I love getting fucked by an old man, oh my sweet Papa, I- I love your cock, I love it- Aah!” You pushed the sleeves of his hoodie down Copia’s arms, desperately needing to see more of him. He took the hint and ripped it off, tossing the garment across the room. As you began lifting his shirt, he pulled it over his head and it went flying in a different direction.

A moan tumbled from your lips upon seeing him, and you pulled him closer so you could nip and lick at the 666 marking on his chest. Fuck, he was so beautiful. So perfect in every way.

“P-Papa! Spit in my mouth-“ You whimpered, embarrassed but oh so needy for it.

“Ehh, che?” He asked, eyes wide and cheeks flushing immediately at your request.

“Please, Papa, please spit in my mouth!” You begged, tears spilling onto your hot cheeks as he fucked you mercilessly.

He tilted your chin up, brushing his thumb along your lower lip. You opened your mouth, gazing up at him with half lidded eyes as he spit right into your mouth.

Your sweet Papa blushed furiously when your eyes rolled back and you moaned loudly, swallowing his saliva.

“Mmm~! A-again, please- please..” You hiccuped, opening your needy mouth, sticking out that sinful tongue. And he obliged you, caressing your cheek as he spit into your mouth once more.

Just from him doing that, he felt your pussy clench around his cock, another high pitched and breathy moan coming from you. You flattered him so fucking much, how did you even do that? The way you went crazy for him just over little things like that? How on earth did he get so lucky?

Copia continued to pound into you, lips parted, a few locks of hair fallen into his face as he lost himself in the splendour of your body.

Your arched into him, still clawing down his back, nearly making him bleed. You’d kiss those marks later, but you just couldn’t help it right now, not when Copia was giving you so much pleasure like this. Too much.

You spread your legs wider for him, as wide as they’d go, panic rising in your chest as your pleasure began to heighten. How much more could you take before exploding?

“Papa I- I think I’m-!” You moaned.

“Cum for me, dolce, cum for Papa.” He groaned.

A scream tore from your throat as he rubbed your clit hard and fast with those magical gloved fingers, giving you the orgasm of a lifetime.

Papa’s mismatched eyes widened, pleasantly surprised as you began squirting, your fluids soaking his chest.

That sight was enough to push the poor man over the edge; for the love of Lucifer, you were going to give him a heart attack one day.

You cried when you felt Copia’s cock twitching inside you, rope upon rope of hot cum filling you.

He groaned loudly, stilling inside you for only a moment before he began softly rocking his hips again, the both of you whimpering at the post-orgasmic sensitivity.

“Cazzo, amore… I’m… I’m still hard..” He whispered shamefully, head buried in your chest as he begun to thrust inside you once more.

You felt like you were going to burst, like you were being set on fire with pleasure. Tears freely spilled from your eyes, your cheeks flushed red hot. You tried to close your legs instinctively, the pleasure overwhelming you, but your Papa only held them open.

“I’m- Fuck, I’m sorry- I’m sorry, tesoro, I- I c-can’t…” Copia shakily gasped, unable to stop fucking you.

“D-Dolce, I want- I want to fill you up with so much cum, see how much you can take… I- oh,” He moaned, a blushing mess of a man. You could both feel your mixed cum dripping out of you, such a delightfully sticky mess. Obscene squelching noises caused you to whimper as he fucked his spend back inside you.

“P-per piacere… vieni per me un altra volta.” Copia groaned, feeling you tighten around him. He knew you were close.

Before you knew it, you were falling apart once more, cumming and cumming and squealing and crying as your Papa rutted into you. Your eyes crossed and rolled back, babbling incoherently as he fucked you dumb, practically feeling your soul leaving your body as he came inside you once again, filling you up to the brim. You couldn’t get enough of his needy moans, and you pulled him down to bite at his jawline. Copia sucked dark purple hickies into your neck, then licked into your mouth, kissing you hotly as his thrusts slowed once more, a few more ropes of cum squirting into you when your pussy fluttered around his thick cock, making him twitch inside you.

You panted and looked up at his face, the creases on his forehead deepening with shame. Poor Papa. He was still hard.

Three more earth-shattering orgasms later, you were both finally spent. By the name of Satan, you swore that everyone in the whole goddamn abbey probably heard you fucking each other’s brains out. Copia pulled out of your sore pussy with a wince, tucking himself back into his sweatpants and collapsing onto the bed next to you, his chest heaving as he stared up at the luxurious black canopy above his bed.

A comfortable silence fell over the both of you, still caught up in the hazy bliss of your multiple orgasms.

“Are you the Antichrist?” You asked finally, looking over at your Papa.

“Eh? Non lo so, dolcezza, perché? Do I really fuck you that good?” He asked with a breathless little chuckle.

You couldn’t help but giggle. “Duh! You’re… fuck, old man, you’re 52… And you just fucked me five times in a row. That’s gotta be something special.”

Copia hummed in thought, cheeks tinted pink, a little smirk on his face as he turned to the side, pulling you into him. “I think, Tesoro, that the special thing about it is the effect you have on me.” He murmured against your lips, kissing you chastely.

You wrapped your arms around him lovingly, fingers combing through his fluffy hair before he pulled you to rest your head on his chest. You gave the mark on his chest one last kiss before you both gave into the sleep that claimed you. Whether the rumours about him being the Antichrist were true or not, one thing was for sure:

You really did love to pamper your Papa.

end <3

Tagging: @sucharide @the-hole-in-terzos-shoe @rightintheghoulies @copiaswifey @youhaveahomeinmyheart @faeeeeh @mister-girl

If anyone else wants to be added to my taglist just lmk! <3

#my writing #papa iv x reader #cardinal copia x reader smut #papa iv x reader smut #cardinal copia x reader #copia x reader smut #copia x reader #papa emeritus iv x reader smut #papa emeritus iv x reader #papa iv #copia #popia x reader smut #popia x reader #ghost bc #the band ghost fic #ghost band x reader #ghost band fic #cardinal copia #the band ghost #ghost band #ghost #papa emeritus x reader

[wildbornsiren]

Again | Jake “Hangman” Seresin x F!Reader

Again Synopsis: Just a drabble about Jake getting his face wet.  One shot 823 words AFAB/Female reader.  Warnings: Explicit. MINORS DNI. oral (f. receiving) female ejaculation, dirty talk.

Notes: Based of an anon request for Jake’s reaction to a squirting reader. I’m so sorry if this doesn’t scratch the itch you were looking for, but I tried.  Likes/comments/reblogs are always appreciated. Thank you for reading, it really means the most.    tagging in:   @writercole @evansrogerskitten @princessmisery666 because ya’lls fic sent me earlier today. 

“When do we need to be back downstairs?” Jake’s rummaging around in the mini fridge. “Javy challenged Bradshaw to a dance-off and someone needs to be there to record it.” “Am I supposed to keep you from recording, or getting in on it?” You lay back on the bed, enjoying the icy blast of the air conditioning. It was muggy and hot in the ceremony hall, and the hotel room wasn’t much better. “There’s not enough to drink in here to get me involved in that.” You can hear him open a bottle, liquid pouring into a plastic cup. “Are you staying in your whites for the reception?” He grins at you, raising the cup in your direction. “Didn’t you say something about ripping them off of me with your teeth in the elevator?” “I said a lot of things.” You roll onto your side, getting a better look at him.

Golden skin glows against the crisp white, and he carries himself differently while wearing them. Shoulders back, chest out, masculinity dripping from every pore. Fresh shaven, not a single hair out of place, the subtle hardness of his jaw, and gleam in his eye, paired with the pride of the highly decorated uniform he wore—it got you wet. You weren’t sure if you wanted to send a thank-you card to the inventor of dress whites or slap them. Another part of you was so glad they were paraded out occasionally, and this time it was for a happy celebration. “See something you like darlin?” He sets the cup down on the counter, approaching the bed. That easy grin, complete with dimples and eye crinkles beams down at you when he bumps against the mattress, and you turn over onto your back. “I do like you.” “That keeps me going. Every single day baby.” He braces over you, capturing your mouth in a slow easy kiss. One kiss turns into two, three, and you stop counting, losing your train of thought when his hands slide under your dress lifting it to your hips. “This also keeps me going,” his hands slide up between your thighs cupping the warmth between your legs. Fingers slide against the lace of your panties, teasing through the damp that had gathered. He groans against the softness of your thigh, that slow lingering touch continuing. “You get so wet for me so easily. Fucking love that.” His weight leaves your body long enough to undo the buttons of his uniform shirt, carefully hanging it on the back of the computer chair. “Jake, they’re going to notice if we’re late.” “It’s fine,” he murmurs, his warm hands returning to your body, easing your panties down. “I want to take care of my girl. Then we’ll go down and party with everyone else.” His mouth teases along your folds. “Come on baby. Let me do this for you.” He licks, dragging his tongue slowly against you. Your hands find purchase in his hair, and he nudges your legs further apart with his shoulders. Jake is on you like a man starved, licking and kissing at your pussy. His fingers rub soft circles on your hips, drawing you closer. You can feel his jaw working as his tongue slides into you. Your back arches, hands tightening ins his hair. His nose grinds against your clit as he devours you. His tongue is replaced by two fingers, expertly curling deep inside as they thrust into you. He groans softly, licking slick from your thighs. “Fuck being social, I want to watch you like this. You look so good on my fingers baby.” You laugh breathlessly, pleasure washing over you. He’s taking you higher and higher, warmth coursing through you, body on edge, trembling. Jake eases a third finger in, using the thickness to stretch you further. His name falls from your lips, and you’re coming hard as he hits that spot inside of you over and over. Tightening around his fingers, he continues to fuck them into you, coaxing moans and whimpers from you. His fingers curl again, pressing deeper, your hips rising off the bed, rocking against him. A second orgasm rages through you even as you’re whimpering and trembling from the force of the first. Everything spirals higher, tighter and you’re crying out wordlessly for him as you come again. You can feel your body clench, releasing completely and you squirt. You cover your face with your hands, panting, embarrassed at your response. “Oh baby…” he murmurs, fingers sliding from your spent pussy. You drip from his chin, the collar of his undershirt soaked. He licks his lips, bringing his fingers to his mouth sucking them clean. “I’m going to need you to do that again.” You peek up at him from between your fingers, catching sight of that wicked grin and hungry eyes. “Again?” He nods. “I need you soak my dick.” He’s reaching for his belt buckle, and you know there’s no way you’re rejoining the party any time soon. 

#jake seresin x reader #Jake Hangman Seresin x Reader #jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin/reader #jake hangman seresin/you #jake hangman seresin #anon ask #shelly writes #reader insert #imagines

[latikaa-renaz]

FFXIV Writes; Day 25

cw: medical procedure, eye injury mentioned. Set during the Siren's Specter Campaign

characters: Latika'a, Sloane, mentions of Erlanis

The amount of slowly escalated fighting, genuine to the point of nearly reaching physical blows, that had gone into getting the consent he needed was intense. Careful suggestions, pointed comments, and genuine concern had all soured with time; each word said turning spiteful and angry with the hurt pride and fear coming from every side. Even a brief period of screaming when Latika’a had snapped, pushed too far from their situation and Sloane’s stubborn nature striking words like the bullets he shot against every one of Latika’as attempts to convince the man to let him aid. Had it not been for the terse snapped words Erlanis gave then, it would have drawn even more Voidsent to them than was already being sporadically fought off. 

“Fine. Just get it over with, but know if you fuck up…” The words he’d been *needing*, been *waiting* so impatiently for, that Lati would have given up on if this weren’t such a drastic situation. When Sloane finally gave in after another fitful attempt at rest for the three, the bells of moving and scavenging what they could with less and less results wore them down hard… Lati nearly dropped the makeshift bag of lichen and seaweed he’d been trying to clean. The few measly fish they’d managed to gather had already been cleaned and ready to cook as much as possible- the skins stripped down to act as bandaging under the strips of cloth already gathered. “Yes, I get it, you-” Deep breaths were taken, teeth audibly grinding. 

“I get it, I do. I won’t mess this up, now lay down and let me work.” The tension does not dissipate, while Lati turns their hiding spot into an emergency operation zone. Strain and stress fill both Sloane and Lati’s faces as the ultimate creativity and supply use has to come into play. One does not have the tools of the trade needed, and the other struggling past deep rooted fears and thoughts that while Lati does not know… he can empathize with. It’s why he’s let the man go so long without either forcing the procedure or leaving Sloane to die.

He gets it, so much more than Sloane thinks he does. He understands the glimpses of someone else that come in the moments of giving silent company when another nightmare of past traumas lurk up from Lati’s mind, when rough words come out in demands for Lati to take care of himself, when Erlanis is showing his insane amount of skills in fights and there is finally a working balance between them all. Sloane is an asshole, and sometimes so unpleasant when their conversations aren’t superficial flirtations… yet Latika’a grasps what understanding he can.

So he works with precision, with what speed he can- shaping tools from the very earth around them and turning them sterile with his ingenuity and precise spellwork. He cycles the work of slicing mangled flesh out with continuous waves of healing to keep the agony at bay. The wrapped leather torn from his own clothing can only do so much to cushion Sloane’s gritted teeth when the pain flows, the lichen being used as a sponge only holds so much blood that flows from the eye cavity being emptied. It is not an easy procedure in comparison to many- but he takes the route where as much as possible *can* be saved. 

He takes the route of a future prosthetic being possible, even if it means having to fashion a grotesque and slapdash version of the clean dressings he’d normally use. Fingers stained and slick with the eye’s fluid and the body’s blood work through the disgusting sensations. It’s draining, both on his mind for how it screams at the many risks taken and the lack of what he desperately wants in hand compared to the pale imitations he uses despite how his heart screams that he cannot let crew fall. He cannot let the stubborn ass of a man succumb to the infection that awaits, when a future of painful but necessary adjustments and *living* is in sight. 

The moment he’s done, when he can be grudgingly satisfied that the burn of tense muscles have signaled a job well done… what water they have will be split between himself, and the panting Sloane that he eases into sitting. 

It was messy, but it was done. They can call it a day.

#ffxivwrite2023 #steelgrin sirens #specter campaign writings

[spookyspaghettisundae]

Another Life Ended

A downpour of rain dampened the neon lights of the neighboring street. Pedestrians passed by, oblivious to the growing pool of blood in the alleyway. Deaf to the sounds of a metal baseball bat slicing through air before smacking flesh and bone, and the clipped grunts and shouts that followed each blow.

Detective Tagawa gripped his head where his own blood was escaping him, where the crimson fluid ran down wet skin, and joined the slick of rainwater on the asphalt beneath him. The blood and rain together drenched his suit’s jacket the darkest shade it had ever been.

The figure looming over him ripped the pistol from its safety cord on Tagawa’s belt, and tossed it away from them. It hopped and skidded in the rainwater, hurtling towards the slim silhouette of a third figure, standing in the alleyway, bearing witness to the pause in Tagawa’s brutal bludgeoning.

With slender hands buried in pockets, Seiji clamped down on the pistol with the tip of a boot, stopping its momentum dead in its tracks.

Tagawa’s blood and some hair clung to the metal baseball bat in Gekko’s hands. The tattooed gangster’s eyes carried a mad glint. Gekko flashed his teeth and the sharp angles of his chin lent him a devilish air, smiling at Tagawa with utter malice.

It would take more than a single strike to cave in Tagawa’s skull entirely, but Gekko was willing and eager to finish the job.

“Do we beat the shit out of this asshole to make an example, or shoot him with his own gun to make it look like a suicide?” Gekko asked.

Tagawa, eyes screwed shut, only eked out a whimper in response. Though Gekko glared at him, he had directed the question at Seiji. Tagawa’s meaty hands still gripped his fractured skull, and he curled up into a fetal position at Gekko’s feet.

Seiji hunkered down and picked up the gun.

“Yeah, good choice,” commented the gangster. “You know, don’t want Uncle to get mad. And this is poetry. The good policeman stuck his stupid nose in matters he couldn’t handle.”

Seiji weighed the pistol in a hand and approached. Rain bounced off the leather jacket clinging to that slender frame.

Gekko added, “I think we can even make it look like he killed Sato.”

A different struggle broke out. Gears were grinding behind Seiji’s forehead. Thoughts raced, and the young gangster’s conscience clashed with the young gangster’s sense of honor.

A light flashed in the alleyway, a spark from a neon sign on the adjacent street. Just a flicker. A mirror image to the flash of instinct that overcame Seiji.

Seiji raised the gun and shot Gekko in the head. The first time ever hearing a pistol go off in his—no, her—hand, it sounded more like a broken exhaust pipe. Or a firecracker.

The people on the street remained oblivious. Nobody even came to look. Neither after the immediate muzzle flash, nor after Gekko’s body splashed into a puddle of rainwater.

The dead gangster’s blood had sprayed upon Tagawa. The police detective was as speechless as before, though for different reasons. His flapping lips failed to produce intelligible words, but Seiji deciphered gratitude in the one wide eye Tagawa could still open.

Seiji—no, Fujiko was her birth name—she shook her head

“I had to do it,” she said. “It was time for him to go. Neither in the family nor in your police would he face justice. Gekko was… a monster.”

Tagawa stopped flapping his lips. The woman he had only ever known as the young man named Seiji had just extended his life. The police detective would have more years with his wife and daughter.

The rain cloaked the tears streaming down Seiji’s cheeks, and Fujiko turned to leave.

In such summer rain, the leather jacket and shirt and cloth she wore to conceal her breasts already overheated her to the point of constant discomfort

Now, she was burning up. Every footfall of her boots, splashing in the rainwater, only added to that discomfort. She yearned for cold water, to cool down, and escape. Run away. And what she had done only poured more fuel into the unbearable fire, consuming her from the inside out.

Just like that, she had extended Tagawa’s life, and ended the one she had been living. She wanted to tear all that clothing off, but first, she needed to escape.

The gun clattered on the ground.

Tagawa finally managed to say something, but it never reached Fujiko’s ears.

Her mind had turned into a soup, incapable of processing anything from the outside. Every fiber of her being yearned to tear off the disguise and finally find freedom from all the lies.

Tagawa groans in pain and yelled at her, just as she reached the end of the alleyway. He yelled out that name, Seiji, calling out to the identity she needed to discard by the roadside and set on fire.

Because she knew she needed to leave. To flee. To leave the country, to leave this all behind her, before Uncle found out, and came after her for killing Gekko. Or before the police did.

Even so, her conscience won out. The image of Tagawa bleeding in the alleyway. The neon lights flickered again.

He needed help, didn’t he?

Fujiko turned. Instead of the dead man and the dying man in the rain and blood on the ground, something else awaited her there.

A maw of glistening fangs in the dark, with no eyes to be seen, and claws that curled, sinking into the supple flesh of helpless bodies. That darkness roiled and rippled, like living liquid.

Blood ran in the rainwater towards her, flowing down the alleyway in a river of pink runoff. Above the mouth of that hideous stream, the monstrous maw sneered at her with a sinister smile.

“You have such a bright future ahead of you,” said the demon. “Sample this supple flesh like we do, and you will find you feel much more at home with us than you do with your kind.”

She shrieked. She ran.

The lights of the city were snuffed out, all at once. The neon signs and streetlights and even the glow of phones of passersby all went dark, all at the same time. Darkness devoured the world around her, even swallowing every sound until she could only hear her own ragged breathing.

Shrouded in darkness, she still ran, and stumbled, unable to see the obstructions in her way. So she bumped into a looming, towering figure. A chest with muscles like stone, leathery like hide. Dim light glowed behind her, casting just enough for fangs to glisten above her face, from which foul ichor dripped.

“You know it’s true,” whispered the demon. “You know it’s you.”

Nomi Fujiko awakened, screaming.

Now, she was Song Ji-Yu. A woman in her late twenties.

Song Ji-Yu was not her real name, either. It took help to acquire it. A foreigner in a foreign land, this was just the new identity she had assumed after escaping from Japan.

Covered in sweat, she wiped her face. Salty tears had bled from nightmare into reality. The demon of the dream faded quickly, divorced from the very real memory of killing Gekko.

Fujiko lay slumped on the couch in her tiny apartment in Seoul. A long day of grueling work still weighed heavily upon her shoulders, every muscle still sore from the ongoing week.

She sighed and rubbed her eyes, digging around for the remote control, and switching on the television so she had something to distract her from errant and dark thoughts.

Fujiko, now Ji-Yu, had been working as a maid for the past year. She flopped onto her other side, groaning at her muscle aches, and still feeling too tired to shower, though she reeked of various cleaning detergents.

The skin on her hands was still raw from work, chapped despite the gloves that protected her from the chemicals.

Her lower back barked at her and just sank back deeper into the couch’s creaking cushions.

She thumbed and flicked through television stations and still struggled to understand Korean, only picking up bits and pieces, here and there.

A knock. Knock-knock-knock. At her door.

Her heart began pounding and a sickening sense of anxiety enveloped her. Her instinct was to run and flee—to escape off the balcony, even though she lived in the sixth story of her building.

But some part of her needed to know. Wanted to know.

The digital clock’s display nearby read 3:13. Who would visit at such an hour? It was not wise to open her door to any stranger visiting at such a time, though she only needed to peek through the spyhole to sate her curiosity.

Meanwhile, the urge to escape over her balcony only grew. Some part of her still believed she might be hunted, though nobody had ever recognized her in Seoul. The nightmares still haunted her, the thought that she might one day open a door, only to be staring down the barrel of a silenced gun. Her instincts screamed at her to run, to climb, to escape this place.

Thump-thump-thump-thump. The visitor knocked again with more insistence.

To see or flee?

Her spirit was split in twain. One ghostly image of herself was running to the balcony to start her mad descent to the nightly streets of Seoul, while the other part of her was already opening that door, to let the monsters inside.

To…

Face destiny.

Exhaling sharply, it felt like her very soul was escaping her. The lacquered wood of the door was cold against her palms when she leaned against it.

Through the spyhole, she spied the figure of a man in a crumpled brown trench coat, broad-shouldered and tall. Dark, messy hair, like a mop on his head. It vaguely reminded her of Tagawa, minus the head injury she had last seen and left him with.

But the stranger then turned and faced the door.

Dark, inquisitive eyes. His face was unfamiliar.

A Westerner, some man of white skin, rendered even paler in the cold fluorescent lights of the hallway outside her door.

She hesitated one last time, heart still pounding, and still considered running for the balcony to escape once more.

Was this it? The killer she had been waiting for? Dreaming of?

Perhaps, to embrace destiny, she needed to embrace death.

Thus, she opened the door.

“Good evening,” she said in her accented Korean to greet the stranger, bowing her head.

He repeated the greeting back to her, rendered in a different accent, and nodding. His eyes were dark but cold, colder than the light around him, and his eyes flitted to sneak a peek past her into the dimly lit apartment and the mess she lived in.

Perhaps to learn if she was alone.

“I’m looking for Song Ji-Yu. Are you Song Ji-Yu?” he asked in English. British accent.

And it sounded more like a growl than human words. Every syllable of his sent shivers down her spine, like a ghost was already digging her grave.

“No,” she lied. A heavy accent of her own marked her reply in English, but she was more proficient in that than Korean. “You must have the wrong address.”

Then it occurred to her that he might hear the Japanese accent in her English. And with that sudden surge or paranoia, her miserable apathy towards death crumbled away in an instant.

Fear took its place, cold hands gripping every inch of her inside. And twisting.

The stranger’s mien darkened and his dark eyes flashed with something terrible.

Something inhuman.

It made her heart race. It tempted her to slam the door shut in his face.

Everything in her aching body screamed at her to do exactly that.

Instead, he slapped his palm against the door, as if to oppose that instinct.

As if he had read her mind.

“I know it’s you, Seiji. Fujiko. Evenheart,” he said. The growls dropped deeper yet, turning demonic. It tickled the back of her brain in an almost perversely pleasant way, though it also curdled her blood.

The lights in the hallway flickered violently and sparks flew from the lamps.

The world around her quaked and even the door to her apartment rattled in its hinges.

Taking a step backwards, she gasped. “Who are you—what are you?”

The stranger grew in size before her eyes, and his face fell—it fell away. It distorted, melted, flowing like the surface of a bowl of pudding being stirred, mixing, and churning, and turning into another face, dripping from the chin and splashing the floor with something thick and viscous. The face of Tagawa’s, then Gekko’s, then others. Faces familiar, faces unknown, all terrifying her together in their ever-shifting multitudes.

He took a single menacing step towards her, then another.

She stumbled while she backed away from this living horror, and he continued to grow in size. His footsteps dropped like thunderclaps and the world around her shook upon every stomp. Dust rained from the ceiling and every light flickered to every beat of their death march.

The voices from the television set behind her turned into white noise and garbled whines and metallic screeching.

“You can wash your hands but the water carries your filth and sick,” growled the demon.

No—not a demon.

Worse.

“Who—"

Fujiko cut herself short as she tripping over the couch and crashed through the coffee table. Sharp pain of broken wood dug into her sides, leaving her only lucky enough to not be impaled by any debris.

The form of her assailant exploded into a swarm of black birds and deathly beetles, filling the room in a cacophony of cawing and buzzing. The living dead mass of teeming darkness flooded over her.

She screamed until she coughed and choked. A humanoid figure reformed from the swarm, large hands solidified into gripping her, with the power of metal vices clamping around her neck, and the weight of this giant’s body burying her underneath it. She flailed and thrashed but would never break free from this monster.

The living evil strangled the life from her.

This was no nightmare. You need to fight back! You need to—

Blood shot into her widened eyes as she stared helplessly into the void where a face should be. Only a black hood now covered an invisible head, crowning the ominous figure on top of her, straddling her, burying her alive.

Live!

She tried to protest, to scream for help, to anything, but the entity’s powerful hands choked every word and sound, turning her failed attempts into helpless gasps and croaking.

“We serve no masters. There is no plan. There is only misery, and misery you spread like disease, and finally, we have found you,” hissed the entity. “We will take you, and make you one of us. ONE OF US.”

Its hooded head closed in on her face. The stench of grave dirt and rotten leaves hit her like a wall, making her already nauseous stomach twist to the point of retching.

The world quaked violently. Light bulbs exploded with sparks and the TV’s screen flared up brightly one last time before it died, followed by another shower of sparks. Even in those final flashes of light, there was no face to be found underneath the hood.

Just a deathly void. The mask of merciless death itself.

The edges of her vision blurred and blackened, joining the shadowy monster’s overwhelming and crushing presence. Still, it strangled her. Still, she flailed, though every bout of thrashing turned out weaker than the last. Her life threatened to fade entirely.

But then, a light—

A flicker. A glimmer, one final spark sprayed from broken bulbs, one final flash of light.

And there she was. There, she had always been. The light, in the light.

No demands, a quiet ocean of just unconditional love. A tree that bloomed before her eyes, with kind branches extending, like helping hands, coming just within her reach—

A question thrummed in the back of Fujiko’s mind like a final thought. She dangled above the knife’s edge in what might have been her final moments.

Will you do what it takes? Will you embrace your destiny, and do right by others?

Evenheart?

She knew the answer. And so did Evenheart.

That spark, in its final second, flared up into a blinding flash of light. A flash of brilliance, like the sun exploding inside the apartment. And as the flash subsided, every piece of furniture and even the figure of the shadowy monster had cast a permanent shadow, seared into the walls and other objects where fabric and wood had been singed with pure radiance.

The crows cawed and the swarm of black insects buzzed as they dispersed, exploding into a cloud that backed away from Fujiko—no, it backed away from Evenheart.

The bedlam continued as the woman choked, catching her breath. She writhed on the ground, regaining her bearings, dragging herself away from the bedlam of cawing and screeching and buzzing and whining from that cloud of death.

The blurry world turned sharp while she coughed and retched, sucking in ragged breaths of air just to live. To survive. The edges of her surroundings regained clarity, as sharp as blades again. Slowly, wracked with pain, she rose to her feet—

This was no nightmare. This was so painfully, so dreadfully—

Real.

The cloud of death reformed into the humanoid giant, filling out the corner of the room. Its shape, unstable, hid the thousands of birds and bugs that made up its entirety. The smell of raw sewage filled Evenheart’s nostrils.

The brown trench coat the stranger had worn was now a cloak of darkness. Vermin plummeted from the edges of the figure and it drew long knives from the inside of its cloak, taking another menacing step towards her.

“We taste your misery,” hissed and buzzed the death-stranger. The blades in its roiling hands gleamed in the dim light from outside the apartment windows. Pestilence dripped from the sharp edges. “Why not join us? Free yourself from the flesh.”

You will do what it takes.

You will live.

Evenheart heard that call. And she answered it.

With an angry cry erupting from Evenheart’s throat, light exploded from her hands, and eyes, and mouth. The same radiance that had flooded the room now saturated it, so bright and searing that it could have melted the jelly out of any onlooker’s eye sockets.

When the light died down, she stood alone in her ruined apartment. Embers glimmered around the edges of paper and thin cloth. All wood had been blackened by the radiance.

Only a tiny pile of ashes remained where the death-shadow last stood.

Evenheart stared at her hands, unharmed.

She pawed at her neck, and it still hurt from the grasp of the revenant. Black and blue from being strangled.

Once more, she gazed at her open palms, balling hands into fists.

You are chosen.

She had been chosen by Her all along.

Follow the Light.

Now, she was awake. Aware of Her voice, and receiving Her words.

Find your sisters.

Another life ended, and another one began. Evenheart grabbed the few belongings she needed, slipped into her sneakers, and fled this ruined apartment.

#spoospasu #spookyspaghettisundae #horror #short story #writing #literature #spooky #fiction #mystery #surreal #hyperrealism #occult #magick #supernatural #nightmare #reality #memory #identity #escape #rebirth #revenant #evil #manifest #demon #spirit #hunter #misery #invisible world #The Secret World #Witches of the West Coast

[mimi-ya]

nightmares ~ roronoa zoro x reader

1,700 words | f!reader | nsfw & fluff?

summary: who doesn't have a soft spot for chopper?

masterlist

Sometimes you just wanted to fuck in a bed.

Which had proven to be difficult over the last few days.

It’s been almost a week since the Sunny sailed from the last island in your journey. And while you didn’t mind quickies below in storage or up top in the crow’s nest, usually by now you would have been able to find some alone time in a bed with Zoro while the crew explored what ever poor town had the luck of the Straw Hats stumbling in to.

But with land nowhere in sight, you thought you were going to lose your mind.

That is until the stars aligned one evening and blessed you with an empty cabin. Nami was watching the water for the night and Robin had sent a wink your way, mentioning she’d be spending a few hours in Franky’s workshop, although you think that was more for her benefit than yours.

None the less, you were not going to pass up this opportunity.

Zoro had made a noise of confusion and annoyance when you pulled him through the door as he was passing the hallway.

“Shut up.” You had muttered, slanting your lips over his before pushing him onto your bed.

It wasn’t until you had straddled his lap that he got the picture.

Which brings you to now with his fingers buried in your cunt and lips attached to your neck.

You had demanded he take his time, wanting to savor this uninterrupted solitude.

Easier said than done.

Because each time his hard cock pressed into your leg combined with the sinful way he licked into your mouth, it was a little hard to stay in control.

“Gonna cum for me?” He growled, hand picking up speed as three thick fingers plunged in and out of your tight cunt.

You could only nod your head, gasps and whimpers escaping your lips. His hard body hovering over yours and intense gaze staring into your eyes.

“Do it.” He commanded, “Right now.” He punctuated with a harsh thrust of fingers, crooking them just right so they tickled at that little spot.

“Oh fuck, Zoro!” Your fingernails dug into his shoulders, and a feral grin stretched across his face at the sting of it.

He loved when he was able to push you over the edge so far that you got a little mean, tearing into his skin with your nails and teeth. You were always embarrassed about it after, looking at the marks in horror while he wore them as a badge of honor.

Definitely had nothing to do with the cook who would stare at them with furious jealously.

Regardless, he would always enjoy watching your face slacken with pleasure from the tight coiling in your belly finally springing forth and catapulting you into shocks of pleasure zipping up and down your spine. Zoro could feel his cock painfully throb at the sight, and your pathetic thrashing wasn’t helping.

He withdraws his fingers, wet and shiny with your slick, and then presses them against your lips, “Open.”

And you’re barely coherent enough to follow his order, still reeling from the long and drawn-out orgasm. But you comply, tongue lolling out as his fingers fill your mouth and overload your sense with the flavor of you.

“Good girl.” Zoro breathes, pupils blown wide with lust as he grinds his cock against your thigh.

The pleads and begging for him to fill you is on the tip of your tongue, but then there’s a timid knock at the door.

You both freeze, his fingers still shoved in your mouth, and glance over at the entrance.

Zoro thinks it must have just been the wind, and is about to continue when he hears it, “(Y/N)?” The small voice said, “Are you in there?”

He pulls his fingers from your mouth, instead cupping them over your lips and he leans close to your ear, “Quiet, and he’ll go away.”

There was a brief moment of silence before the knocking started again, “(Y/N). It’s me, Chopper.” He sounds heartbroken, “I had a bad dream.”

Zoro watches as your eyes widen and can feel the little gasp of air against his hand. The second your eyes meet his he knows he’s lost. And he can’t help the groan of annoyance that escapes, “Fine.”

But you barely pay any mind to Zoro who is muttering and grumbling as he heads to the little bathroom connected to the cabin. You’re more concerned about pulling on a shirt and pair of pants as fast as you can before yanking the door open.

There was Chopper, a blanket wrapped around his little head and tears in his eyes. He jumps a little at the sudden opening of the door and then looks up at you with his big watery eyes.

“Oh Chopper!” You fall to your knees, opening your arms to which he immediately collides into your chest. You pet his soft head as he trembles in your arms, “It’s okay, you’re okay.”

Your comforting words only make him cry harder, mumbling into your shirt. You can’t really make out what he’s saying, but you don’t interrupt. Instead standing with him in your arms and shutting the door before returning to your bed.

Getting under the covers with Chopper in your arms is a little tricky, but you manage and pull the covers around the two of you.

Eventually his trembling stops, and he looks up at you. You open your mouth to ask if he’s better or what you can do to help. But before you can, light spills into the room when Zoro emerges from the bathroom, his deep grumbles of annoyance echoing through the room.

You’re about to scoff and roll your eyes at him, a little overdramatic for having to finish himself off alone, but Chopper’s reaction beats you to it.

“Ahh!” He screams, crawling deep under the covers to escape whatever monster is in the room.

“It’s okay!” You try to calm him, “It’s just Zoro!”

“The fuck?” Zoro bites out.

You send a brief glare his way before returning your attention to the quivering reindeer in your bed, “Chopper! You don’t have to be scared, it’s just Zoro!”

Your words must get through to him because he stops his little outburst and meets your eyes from under the blanket, “Zoro?”

“Yeah.” You say gently with a smile, “It’s just marimo.” Ignoring the annoyed protest, hoping Chopper will get a little laugh out of the jab. But just when things couldn’t get any worse, Chopper starts bawling again with fat tears spilling down his cheeks.

“Zoro!” He cries, popping out from the covers, words blubbering together with his hiccups and fits.

You meet Zoro’s eyes who are just as widened in shock as yours are, as he awkwardly shuffles to the bed, sitting on the edge, “What’s wrong Chopper?”

Chopper launches himself into Zoro’s arms, wrapping his little hooves around Zoro’s shoulder, “You weren’t in your bed!” He lets out a wail, “And I couldn’t find you! And I thought you were eaten by the monster from my nightmare!”

Zoro pats his back, “Uhh, sorry about that buddy.”

Chopper just continues to cry against Zoro’s chest, wetting his shirt with tears and snot. And had it been anyone else Zoro would have already thrown them overboard, but he’s always had a soft spot for the young doctor.

“It’s okay Chopper.” You run a hand down his head, “We’re all okay.”

“Do you, uhh, want to talk about it?” Zoro asks him, but he just shakes his head.

“How about we all lay down and try to go back to bed?” You suggest, a comforting hand rubbing Chopper’s back who peeks over at you with a nervous stare.

“But what about the monsters?”

“Well you have us now.” You shrug like it the most obvious thing, “And Zoro will keep us safe from anything scary, right Zoro?”

“Right.” Zoro agrees uneasily.

Chopper slowly pulls away from Zoro, still sitting in his lap, “Can I sleep in the middle?”

“Of course!” You nod with a smile, already scooting to the edge to make more room, “Is this good?”

Chopper crawls to the freed up space, pawing at the blankets, “And you’ll both be here?”

“All night.” You raise the blanket, waiting for Zoro and Chopper to situate themselves. And Chopper does so happily with a little smile on his face at thought if sleeping between his two favorite people. Zoro on the other hand still has an underlaying bitterness he’s trying to hide but you see right through.

As Chopper is fluffing the pillow that Zoro totally wasn’t going to use, you reach over and pinch his arm.

Any other day Zoro would have snapped right back at you, but when looks up and sees your stern glare he knows better. But can you really blame him? He wanted to spend a night together and uninterrupted just as much as you did.

“I feel so safe!” Chopper says to himself, securely tucking the blankets under his chin.

You smile softly at Chopper, a hand combing through the tuft of fur on his head. And your heart stutters a little when you see a similar smile reflected on Zoro’s face.

“That’s good buddy.” Zorog mutters, eyes already fluttering closed.

Silence falls over the room, just the sound of the trio’s breathing. And you think you might be the only one still awake until,

“Hey guys?”

“Hmm?” You answer.

“Can we sleep like this every night?” There’s a pure sound of hope in his voice, “I don’t think I’d ever have a nightmare again!”

There’s no way you could ever deny the sweet reindeer anything. Something Zoro knows very well. So before you can even answer, you feel a light kick at your foot. And even with Zoro’s face shrouded in darkness, you can read in his expression that he’s not going to let you ruin another one of your nights together.

“We’ll talk about it in the morning.” Zoro mumbles, “Now go to sleep.”

#roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader #zoro imagine #op x reader #one piece x reader #op imagine #one piece imagine

[champion-prism]

Fantasies- Toshinori Yagi/All Might

Requested by anon: hello prism!! Do you write young age all might? If you do, can you write one where toshi fantasizes about f!reader and feels bad about it, but cant help it? Maybe he has her clothes or something?

Anon im coming back from the dead to write this bc guilty jerking off is my FAVOURITE thing ever.

Pairings: Young!All Might x F!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, guilt

Word Count: 1734

Toshinori’s life is a whirlwind right now. He’s getting major attention for his hero work, making sure to be seen publicly at least once a day, staying on call with the fire department in case there’s an emergency and his rescue services are needed, he’s attending classes at university, working out in his spare time, working with Dave on testing new tech and variations to his suit for maximum utility…

...oh, and he’s avoiding you.

Not that you know he’s avoiding you, he’s always sweet when you run into him in the common area of your four person suite, always offers to pour you a drink of lemonade, always asks how your classes are going. He just tries to make sure that he’s not out in the common area while you’re there, preferring to skulk out whenever you go back to your room, because he knows.

He knows that if he runs into you, he’s going to stare at your legs, smooth and pretty looking in those tiny, tiny shorts you’re always wearing, and he knows that if you bend down he’s going to catch a glimpse of your panties. He feels terrible about it, because he has seen your panties- not on purpose! He’s All Might, he doesn’t look up skirts or things like that, he isn’t… he isn’t a pervert.

Truth be told, he’s been rather taken with you ever since he and Dave were assigned to this suite with you and another girl. At first, he supposed he didn’t really care much- roommates had never given him trouble, female or otherwise- but you...you made him feel weird.

You had this gentle tone of voice when he introduced himself, his name softly rolling off your tongue, making him feel this oddest urge to...know what you were thinking. He wanted to talk, he wanted to brag, he wanted to lift something heavy just to show you that he could lift heavy things, even though he was aware that it would be a ridiculous thing to do. It was a ridiculous thing to think, even, as he confided in Dave later.

Dave had just laughed at him.

The urge he got when he saw you, the urge to pull you into a hug and press you flush against his whole body, he didn’t know what to make of it.

Until now.

He’s been sitting in almost darkness in his room for a while now, holding in his hands his varsity “Plus Ultra” jacket that he had put around your shoulders last night, when he’d walked back with you from a late evening lecture. You’d just been to return it, a soft smile on your lips,and now he’s sitting here, jacket in hand, breathing in your scent that was on his jacket, feminine and sweet. He slumps back to lay on the bed, still holding it close, one hand unconsciously smoothening over his crotch. He only notices when he gives himself a light squeeze- the warmth is both pleasurable and uncomfortable at the same time, his cock growing hard underneath his sweatpants.

He breathes in.

He is not a pervert.

But is this perverted? Rubbing himself over his sweatpants while breathing in your scent?

How would you feel if you found out?

You’d probably never even look at him again.

His hips buck.

He knows he should get his hand away before this escalates, but grinding into his own palm is just about his only option. He’s not comfortable with casual relationships, and he’s too busy to ever pursue a serious one, and being as busy as he is gives him almost no time to take care of himself.

He sighs as he removes his hand for good, rolling over to his side and grabbing his phone from his bedside table. He needs to distract himself, so he opens up his social media- he’s not necessarily a huge fan of it, but he knows it’s important for a hero like him to have a presence.

He scrolls a bit, almost lazily, but the universe is not on his side. Pretty soon he’s on your page, looking through your pictures with his lower lip between his teeth.

There’s this one picture of you. You’re wearing a short red dress, one that complements your body perfectly, tight in all the right places, with thin straps that show off your beautiful shoulders, ones he wants to kiss all over, bite and suck and leave marks on. His bright blue eyes fix themselves on your thighs- would you like it if he dove between them? If he licked the insides of your thighs, sucking on their softness- would you buck your hips and whine at him to kiss you where you wanted it?

His hand is between his legs again, his sweatpants uncomfortably tight, face half buried in the jacket.

He wishes he could bury his face in your pussy, instead.

The thought is so graphic that he flinches, but his hand stays.

He’s just going to press down a little, to help with the discomfort. He keeps staring at the picture, glancing at your cleavage, but going back to the hem of your dress.

Such a short dress. Hitch it up a few inches and you’d be exposed- had you been wearing those lacy pink panties he got a peek at, once?

Were you even wearing panties at all in this picture?

His mind wanders to how you lounge in your shorts in the common area, those tiny shorts that barely cover your ass, only offering a thin strip of protection to your bare cunt.

Toshi knows it’s not very plus ultra of him to commit the image of you in those shorts to memory, and he’s ashamed of what it says about his self control but he gives in, shucking off his sweatpants and kicking them away, palming himself through his boxers.

He’s just so sexually frustrated.

His cock is hard, straining against them as if threatening to break out of his boxers. He circles the covered head with his fingers, the pleasure too much but not enough.

He doesn’t want his hands. He wants your tongue, wet and pink and swirling gently on his head, pushing at the slit and lapping up his pre.

He’s not the most experienced guy on the block, but Toshi knows that just like the rest of him, he’s a bit larger than life. He wonders how much of him you’d be able to take into his mouth, groaning as he imagines your mouth sucking on his head, your soft hands pumping his length.

Tears in your eyes as you try to take him further into your mouth, but don’t even get a quarter of the way through.

His hand slides inside his underwear, eyes glued to his phone as he scrolls further down your page.

Perv, he tells himself, flushing from both embarrassment and arousal. You’re just down the hall from him, sweet and unaware, and he briefly wonders what you’re doing before he begins to wonder what you look like touching yourself.

He can just imagine you, lying on your bed wearing nothing but his large, open jacket, playing with your nipples and rubbing your slit. Whose name would you whisper?

Or maybe he’d save you from a villain or something and you’d like to pay him back in kind-

Toshi shudders as he bucks his hips into his hand, chastising himself for that last thought. He is a hero, even fantasizing about something like that is unethical and abhorrent and-

-he wants to hear you moan his hero name, he wants to see you free his cock from his hero suit, run your hands over his body, look up at him with worshipping eyes-

His cock is slick with his own pre cum as he begins to pump himself in earnest, phone dropped to a side as he focuses on his own fantasies. What would you be like if he saved you from a villain attack? Would you cling to his form, subtly running your hands over his muscles, maybe nuzzling against his chest for comfort?

Would you tilt your head towards him, hoping for a kiss?

He imagines kissing you, his lips on yours, tongue exploring your mouth. Carrying you to safety as you begin to take your clothes off, grateful and adoring and looking at him as if he’s the whole world.

Fuck.

His balls are throbbing in his hand, and he gives them a squeeze, imagining you trying to suck on them, trying to cup them in your small hands, trailing kisses all over his sac and licking up his shaft.

Fuck, all he wants right now is for you to blow him. You, naked and on your knees in front of him while he sits back, completely clothed in his hero suit with only his cock out, sighing as you lick and suck and moan against his shaft, your hand occasionally moving to play with your tits or to rub your clit.

He wants to hear you call him All Might in a breathy little voice, hands clutching his thighs as you look pleadingly up at him and beg him to fuck you.

And he would fuck you, oh, he’d press you down onto the bed and tower over you, groping your body, grabbing your tits, settling between your open legs and rubbing his cockhead against your swollen lower lips-

He’s close, he can feel it, pumping and squeezing his length and taking deep breaths of the jacket you wore, imagining himself sinking slowly inside of your wet cunt until his hips meet yours.

He just knows you’d whine about how big he is.

He’d grip your thighs and fuck into your cunt, eliciting moans and screams, hitting every little spot inside your cunt, oh, he’d make you cum around his cock so many times that you’d be begging for him to stop, that he was too much and you couldn’t take it and-

Toshi comes with a muffled moan, hips jerking as he cums all over himself, his body tingling and desperate for your touch. He keeps pumping until he’s made a whole mess of himself, then lays back, gasping and panting as guilt creeps over him, making him blush even redder, even though there’s a part of his mind already formulating a plan to make his fantasies a reality.

#not proofread sorry #prism's tingz #bnha #bnha fanfiction #all might #mha #young all might #toshinori yagi x reader #all might x reader #yagi toshinori x reader #toshinori yagi x you #all might x you #all might smut #boku no hero academia

[djarinsbeskar]

Counterstrike - Boxer!Din AU

Definition -  a strike that retaliates against an earlier strike.

A/N: Finally back with a long awaited instalment for Boxer!Din. I’m floored by the response he has received since I posted him first and I just wanted to thank you all so much for showing him (and me) so much love (and lust). In particular, I’d like to dedicate this instalment to @bestinbeskar @honestly-shite @3frontier and @pedro4ever for the gorgeous art of Boxer!Din they each made! Links can be found on the Boxer!Din masterlist below.

Word Count: 3.5k

Rating: 18+ (NO Minors)

Warnings: SMUT! Unprotected sex (do as I say, not as I write), semi-public sex, rough dom!Din, dirty talking, no beta.

Main Masterlist | Boxer Materlist

Ever since he first fucked you in the middle of his boxing ring, Din had developed a bit of a bad habit. A habit that involved finding some way to bury his cock inside you ever time he saw you; an inconvenience since you mostly came across each other in less than private settings. His gym, the sports clinic, or the massage studio you worked at.

It was sweltering, the city falling under the hold of a heatwave that no number of cold showers would help cool. Din ran hot by nature, and the heat only served to make him two things: irritable and horny.

That might explain the near instant reaction he had to the tempting little sundress you wore to combat the suffocating heat when you popped your head around the main doors of the gym. Your day off if the lack of uniform was anything to go by. A vision in coral pink and flushed skin, you beamed against the metal and muted, dark tones of the boxing area.

Sweat dropped down his temple from where he lay on the bench press, bare chest glistening and muscles taut as he lowered the barbell down slowly to his chest. Trained, expert eyes – honed instinct to notice every miniscule move of an opponent – picked up the flash of color and immediately flickered over to where you were approaching him.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

His jaw clenched as he turned his attention resolutely back up to stare at the ceiling, focus Djarin. With a measured exhale, his muscles bunched to press the heavy weight back up away from his body, held it for a beat, and let it lower once more on a slow inhale.

Three more.

His head turned towards you to admire your form as you traced your hand over the dumbbell stand, skilled fingers walking along the progressively heavier weights while your eyes met his in the wall of mirrors behind the stand. You smiled. And it lit your face up.

Jesus fucking Christ.

His eyes dropped from yours down your body indulgently, content to hold the weight of the barbell a beat longer. The way that dress clung to every damned curve he wanted to sink his fingers and teeth into, the swish of the skirt barely reaching the middle of supple thighs that looked better thrown over his shoulders. The fucking nerve you had to not bother concealing the faded mark on the top of your breast where it peeked out from over your neckline where he left it several days ago.

His mouth twisted into a snarl, his mark. Damn fucking right.

You were teasing him, crossing one ankle over the other to turn towards him with a dainty twirl of your skirt. Don’t get distracted on the bench, he growled to himself internally, and with a grunt, he pushed the barbell back up, the lines of muscles that cut across his triceps flexing taut and his pectorals pulsed from the strain of exercising them.

The pulse of his cock in his gym shorts on the other hand, that wasn’t a muscle that was supposed to be engaged for this particular exercise.

Two more.

“Miss me already, sweetheart?”

He ground out, voice rough and strained—keenly aware of the sway of your hips as you walked back towards the bench, his eyes at perfect eye level to thighs he wanted to wrap around his waist. You passed his head – fuck, he could smell you from here – to stand by his hips. He brought the barbell back down slowly towards his chest, breathing more labored than it should be and his jaw clenched in frustration. You were getting to him.

His grip on the metal bar almost slipped entirely when you hiked up the skirt of your dress to kick one leg over the bench and straddle his hips, the sudden weight and heat making him grunt in surprise.

You were soaked—he realized at the same time it dawned on him that you weren’t wearing any underwear.

“Does this answer your question?”

Voice as light and airy as the lavender scent that suffused the room you gave massages in—making his teeth grind and his hips struggle to remain still when memories of that same voice breathless and gasping with moans he elicited rose in his memory.

You rubbed yourself over the thick outline of him through his gym shorts – you little fucking tease – and sweat wasn’t the only thing dampening them anymore.

“Finish your workout, Din,” you sighed breathily, hooded eyes scanning the empty gym floor appreciatively—basking in the ability to rock so openly and languidly over his throbbing cock. It was a sunny day. It was the end of the week. No one was in the gym—and that was precisely why Din chose to work out now.

His eyes never left yours, molten pools filling with dark promise clashed with yours as your small hands found the planes of his tight abdomen, the muscles clenching sensitively under your touch,

“Keep your back straight… don’t want to injure yourself again—” you purred and received a warning growl in response when he pushed the weight back up, a ripple of heated arousal gathering low at his spine and tightening to a coil beneath your hands that indulgently ran over toned muscles and tawny, inked skin.

One more.

Fuck… but you felt so good. Grinding on him like that.

Din’s hips rocked up against you despite himself, his heels pressing into the grate metal flooring to push his clothed cock against your dripping cunt, your soft gasp when he caught your clit music to his ears and the last bit of motivation he needed to drop the barbell back to his chest. You focused your ruts on the tip of his bulge, the fucking audacity you had to use him to get yourself off—grinding your clit over his soaked shorts and digging short nails into his stomach while soft, gentle eyes darkened with lust bore into his.

He lowered his hips again, smirking at the soft whine of annoyance you couldn’t mask in order to adjust his posture correctly. With one last exhale, a panted curse as corded muscles tensed and released with a final burst of energy, his arms straightened once more above him.

Finally.

He had a hand tangled in the length of your hair before the clatter of the metal barbell hitting the hooks of the stand above him died out, yanking you down until your breasts were flush with his heaving chest. His other hand – calloused and rough – grabbed a fistful of your ass, the soft material of your dress bunching effortlessly in his hand,

“Didn’t get enough last week, baby?” he growled against your mouth, guiding your hips over his cock harder now that he could thrust shallowly against you, grinning darkly at your keen of frustration when his mouth glanced yours, avoiding kissing you, “fuck, you’re soaked for me already—”

Teeth grazing your jaw, you arched your neck back in blind submission, the hand caught against his stomach shifting down to tug at his shorts, succeeding in getting them only halfway down. You both groaned at the contact when wet, slick heat burned around the leaking head of his cock, making the heatwave outside feel like nothing more than a warm breeze.

“Din…” you moaned when a perfectly timed grind of his hips knocked the blunt tip against your hooded bundle of nerves, “a week is too long…” you admitted to the boxer’s delight. Finally. He wasn’t the only one going stir crazy only seeing you sporadically.

“Yeah?” he rasped, tightening his hold in your hair so he could keep your head pulled back while he licked a small trickle of sweat that was slowly making its way down to the hollow of your throat, “thinking about my cock all this time?”

Feral pride filled him at your immediate nod, his chest swelling with a primal snarl – why the fuck did you have to agree so easily, he’d never stop thinking about it now – and captured your lips heatedly with his own. Growling your name, he plundered your mouth—lapping along your tongue and groaning at your taste, swallowing your soft sighs and mewls of satisfaction at finally having his lips on yours again.

His hand dropped from your hair to drag down your spine, down the thin fabric that clung to your heated skin until he was dipping two thick digits between exposed cheeks to swipe through your drenched folds. Circling, spreading, coaxing whines and groans of his name with every press of his fingers. Music more beautiful than even the most skilled pianist could create, and all from the fingers of a fighter.

Conversation from elsewhere in the vicinity carried through empty corridors and with a dip of his fingers into your quivering entrance – chestnut eyes sharpened to dark amber watching doe eyes flutter shut in pleasure – his words breathed into your mouth when your lips parted against his,

“Locker room. Now.”

What followed was a heated scramble, a need to be close—to remain in this transcendent bubble of scorching touches and burning attraction. He practically dragged you with him across the gym floor, weaving between machines with his hand wrapped firmly around your wrist. You already looked wrecked, thoroughly corrupted with mused hair, and crooked clothing. Your legs wobbled as you followed his menacing frame, eyes glued to the shifting muscles in his back, an apex predator dragging his prey back to devour in rapture. You went willingly.

The tiles of the shower cubicle were cold when he shoved you against them – the only place remotely private in the locker room when he tugged the thin curtain closed behind you – his hands flexing around your jaw when he turned your face up for him to kiss. Free hand pressing into the small of your back, he made you arch against him, and you mewled at the solid length of him throbbing against your stomach.

“Fucking gorgeous,” he rumbled, hand snaking around to disappear beneath the skirt of your dress again as he rocked his hips against you slowly—cupping your cunt and his teeth leaving a trail of bites down your throat as his words whispered across the tiles.

You blushed.

He saw it—even above the flush of arousal, he saw your cheeks darken and your eyes flicker to the side at his words. Avoiding his gaze, expecting a hunter’s response of claws and teeth to your doe-like display of weakness—and his eyes softened minutely. Some of the aggressive tightness bled from his gaze which he hid in a nip to your jaw, the heel of his hand rubbing in tempting circles over your swollen clit while his fingers split along your entrance, smearing your slick over puffy lips.

You rocked your hips over his hand needily, fingers scratching down the sides of his neck, scoring passion into the tanned skin and whispers against his lips – please Din, please – along with the pleasurable pain rippling from your nails compelled him to shove two fingers knuckle deep into your tight cunt.

He covered your mouth quickly with his palm when an unadulterated moan ricocheted off the tiles, echoing louder – “fuck baby, quiet” – was hissed against your cheek even as his fingers picked up a merciless pace of pump pump pump, his thumb swiping across your clit, his speed building—making it harder for you to stay quiet as you whimpered against his hand.

Nails digging into his shoulders, you buried your face into his sweat slick neck when he dropped his hand from your mouth to hike your leg up over his arm, spread you wider for him to thrust soaked fingers into your sopping core.

When you came the first time, you bit his neck—his teeth baring from the sting while his fingers scissored against your convulsing walls, dragging you through contractions of pleasure that sent spikes of electricity to cloud your brain in a muffled babble of yes yes yes sobbed into his neck.

Condensation misted the tiles by your head as heat lifted from sweltering bodies. Din growled praise, rough rasps of “good girl, that’s it…” into your ear as you relaxed around fingers that were lazily curling up inside you, your mouth working lazily over the sensitive point where his jaw met his neck, nipping—licking, begging him to fuck you.

His brain short circuited.

His large body caging you against the wall, you preened and arched and tempted him into you with soft sighs of his name and your hands tracing down to the hem of his shorts. Heavy, lust-pooled eyed followed your hands, watching you pull him from his shorts and stroke him with expert fingers that never failed to make him fall apart—on your table, in your bed… you bewitched him with touch since first he met you. He was a slave to it.

“Fuck, baby—” he groaned, his head falling back before he swiped your hands away from his swollen length, giving it a few hard strokes as he ran the head between your exposed folds. He filled you with on thrust, a filthy squelch as your pussy accepted him – unable to be gentle, unable to take his time when all he could think of was claiming you over and again, of meeting your counterstrike with a knockout and hearing your surrender in cries of his name.

He was big—so big that every time he filled you, it felt like he was splitting you apart. The smallest hint of pain, the breach of his cock melting into a delicious fire that licked and coated your nerves as the fat head knocked against soft tissue inside you. He found his pace with a slow rut that dragged his cock along tight walls where you could feel every single vein throb enticingly against you.

His facial hair sanded across your cheek as he panted how good you felt, how tight—how addicted he was to the feel of you, how he wanted to fuck you for hours. Your nails curved down over the muscles of his shoulder blades, along his waist—basking in his size, his strength—his head lowering to scrape his teeth over the swell of your breast, sucking over the ghost of his previous mark and drawing blood back to the surface as he snapped his hips back into you.

And then the door to the locker room opened, and conversation filled it.

Din didn’t even think before slamming his fist onto the water pressure, drenching the two of you in seconds with cool water and drowning the sounds of his cock slamming into you with the hiss of water falling in rivulets down your bodies.

You moaned, too far gone to know – or care – that you weren’t alone, and his hand came back up to cover your mouth with a warning growl into your ear, “Shut up, unless you want to give them a show.”

Even as he said it, his pace grew harder—punching gasps and sounds of surprised pleasure from parted lips that were only mitigated by the calloused palm he folded over them. Your nipples pebbled through soaked fabric, drawing his eager mouth down to suck it raw through the dress, whimpers for more echoed in the tight clench of your cunt around his glistening length.

Steam filled the shower, bleeding out into the locker room where laughter and conversation blended to mask the wet slaps of his skin against yours, the sodden movement of clothes and his guttural groans around your nipple as you clawed at his undulating back.

“Din—” you whispered, panting as strands of your hair fell into your face—fucked out and divine when his mouth slanted over yours again, your chest heaving while one hand lifted to cup his jaw, keeping his mouth on yours. He snapped into the dripping grasp of your pussy hard, shoving you up the wall onto your toes, the graze of the short coarse hairs at the base of his cock tickling over your sensitive clit.

“So fucking loud…” he growled on a whip of anger, the sound cracking down the feral possessiveness of his tone and making you moan. He would spank that pretty ass red, your pussy pink if there wasn’t the risk of the sound carrying to the other athletes getting changed for their workout.

Oh well.

That just meant he would have to take you again later.

His balls tightened and his stomach clenched at the thought, fuck. He wanted you again and he hadn’t even cum yet—your tight little cunt already quivering and tightening around him with your oncoming orgasm as he lost himself in eyes flooded with open desire— disarming him with the candor he saw reflected in them. He swallowed thickly.

“Gonna ruin you, sweetheart,” was his immediate reaction, the only way he could think to reciprocate. A gush of wetness pushed around his cock drilling into you, your walls getting impossibly tighter, and he smirked darkly—his nose pressing into your cheek, teeth bared and feral, “you’d like that, huh?”

Delirious nods were all you were capable of as silent gasps kept your lips parted, eyes rolling back when his thumb dropped to draw tight, fixated little circles on your clit—forcing you over the edge with a final blow that sucked the breath right out of you, the boxer taking and taking and taking everything he wanted from you with wet thrusts and brutal bites to your already marked neck.

He swallowed your orgasm with his mouth, the wet strands of his hair dripping water onto your pretty face as he sucked your tongue into his mouth, dropping his free hand to slide down the length of your side as his thrust turned erratic, chasing his high—chasing that bliss he could only find buried deep inside you.

“Cum, Din—cum,” you breathed, cupping his face as you smiled—exhaustion written plain on your face and his brows pinched in concentration, dropping his forehead to your shoulder with a gasp of your name, breathless as he pulled out—his hand moving frantically over the swollen length of him until he coated your mound and dress with his release. It washed away in streaks of milky white down your body, a subtle pang of fatigued frustration to see it disappear so quickly flashing though him.

The locker room was silent when he turned the water pressure off.

Apart from your labored breathing, the locker room was silent—the prior occupants leaving none the wiser or – if they had heard anything – wisely leaving.

Din dropped your leg from where it remained hooked over his arm, his hands fisting in the skirt of your dress to drag the sodden material up and over your head with a shiver at the uncomfortable feeling of wet clothes.

The sight of your naked body made his softening cock twitch, dammit. You were all gentle curves and soft skin, clothed in the marks of his mouth and bruises of his grip.

He wanted you again.

And caged within his arms, trapped with his hands pressed either side of your head, his shaggy head of soaked waves falling into dark, guarded eyes—you could admit you wanted him again too.

“I’ll wash your dress,” he rasped gruffly, taking a step back from you and kicking off his shorts to wring out and toss into his gym bag. He left the shower with effortless calm, as if he wasn’t stark naked but returned with a towel for you to wrap yourself in.

You flashed him a grateful smile that stuttered when he tossed another – smaller – towel on your head, rubbing it quickly over your soaked locks despite your complaints, a crooked smirk your only indication that he was playing.

“You don’t have t—”

“You can wait for it to dry at my place.”

His words brokered no argument as you padded after him into the empty locker room, the boxer rummaging through his own locker to pull out a simple white t-shirt—long enough to cover you… just about. The hem fell shorter than your dress and you were distinctly aware of your lack of underwear when you pulled it on.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he rumbled as he tugged a tight black muscle shirt over his head, looking down at you with a devastating smirk and sinfully half-lidded eyes, “I don’t share. No one will see you.”

Taglist:

@sarahjkl82-blog @gracie7209 @nova646 @theflightytemptressadventure @wantingtobekorra @computeringturtle @slayerette26 @kesskirata @greatcircle79 @boxdyeblonde @fangirl-316 @niiight-dreamerrrr @tanzthompson @theamuz @the-scandalorian @gallowsjoker @helmet-comes-off @jesfreedark @amyk-37 @altarsw @feminist-violinist @spideysimpossiblegirl @lazybeeches @shameless-h @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @mamacitapascal @the-ginger-hedge-witch @disgruntledspacedad @asta-lily @aesnawan @frannyzooey @gaiuswrites @beskarboobs @sherala007 @cats-are-a-girls-bestfriend @missminkylove @pedros-mustache @krissology @headinthestarz @leannawithacapitala @sharkbait77 @radiowallet @librariantothejedi   @day-off-inkyoto @mandocrasis

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin smut #boxer!din #din djarin #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian fic #mando x reader #the mandalorian smut #mando x you #mando smut #din djarin fic #din djarin fanfic #the mandalorian fanfic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic

[mochikeiji]

Kinktober Day 7: Baby in Pink

↠ Pairing: Suna Rintarou x Reader

↠ Warning: SMUT! Cry baby reader, Ballerina AU, fingering, cunnilingus, ahegao faces because he's THAT good, riding, creampie, Suna being soft but meanie dom.

↬ Word Count: 3k

⇢ Day 7: Manhandled (Riding)

Everything felt so magical; elegant.  The way you were on pointe made him suck in a breath to every performance he has witnessed from you. Even if he's seen them many, many times in repeat, you were as graceful as a butterfly, as taunting as a little fairy in baby pink. To see how effortlessly you were lifted by your partner during daring performances made him clench his fists of how close those pesky fingers of a stranger were to parts only he was allowed, yet his mind in wonder of how easily handled you were in stage.

How easily you were being handled in so many ways corrupted delicious, arousing day dreams in his calm features, but buzzing head.

He's never been vocal about it, but he adores how tight your ballet clothing were. He especially loved the camisole leotard dress; each time you wore them, he catches a glimpse of your perfectly shaped bottom from the flowy, see through clothing.  Thanking the dark, and captured audience to the people on stage and not notice the growing bulge in his pants and his harsh breathing through his nose. The baby pink tone of your attire made you glow of innocence and cuteness he so wants to carry you out and throw you to his bed to snuggle you away from the eyes of the world.

To take your dainty, little self in the cold sheets with the baby pink article of clothing ruined by yours and his cum splattering messily.

The times your eyes would get caught with his pretty ones after your search for him in the sea of the crowd, you would smile brightly st him, eyes forming the adorable crescents he recognizes even from afar. The former, emotionless middle blocker would be in love struck, as if Cupid had shot multiple arrows to his heart just by your glowing form.

You were so precious. His little ballerina.

And he was your prince. Big and strong, beautiful in every way, fit from his previous and present time in volleyball, too good for anyone in this world. He was yours.

"R-rin.."

Too good.

Too good enough for you to be trembling, and just by grinding yourself on his flexed thigh. He couldn't hold back anymore after seeing you present yourself with your new outfit. It was still the same color, but the fabric was thinner than usual, either it was to make your movements more easier or it was just to test his patience. The length of the flowy skirt had been shortened with your legs no longer covered, naked and soft looking, the chest area emphasized your bust too much for his liking.

Oh, you were so delectable.

He groans your name when he felt your juices seep out from your clothed pussy. It was almost as if you weren't even covered well with it. Big, rough hands at the sides of your hips, guiding your shy movements against his thigh to bring you to your awaited heaven. You whimper when he dug his fingers onto the skin, the sounds you were making muffled on his shoulder only making it hard for him to tame himself. Having enough of it, he easily hoisted you up from his thigh and settles you down in bed. God, did he love having a place all to himself with you in it. He gets to do whatever he pleases.

"Pretty."

It came out like a harsh whisper from his lips as he stares at the damped spot of your center. The skirt pushed up and your legs spread out for him, he gets a little closer in between them and drags his digits down your clothed slit. Eyes immediately gazing up to see you biting your fist and your legs quivering in sensitivity. He hums in delight and began pressing in his index on the slick clothing, his thumb rubbing lazy circles on your clit, relishing the sounds of your soft moans and his name being chanted like a prayer.

"Shit, baby."

Cursing he pushes the leotard to the side, inserting two of his digits in and curls them quickly, wanting to see and hear your squeals as your grabbed his wrist and propped yourself up pathetically with your elbow.

"W-wait, sensitive.."

Glossy eyes meeting with his blank, but lust clouded ones. He'd take mercy whenever you would warn him at times like this, afraid he might've hurt you in the process, but this, you weren't hurt or anything. You were just being his little cry baby. Instead of listening to your plead and your small hands tightening around his wrist weakly retraining him, he pulls his fingers out slowly, licking his lips at the sight of the transparent, coated digits before plunging back in roughly. You sobbed as your body gave out and laid back down, with his other hand pressing down your stomach, he delivers precise piston of his fingers inside you. He knew you can take it. You can, and you will.

"Rin!! A-ah, Tarou..please.."

Legs trying to slowly shut with his head still in between, he hums in approval before getting a taste of your sopping cunt and lapping his tongue up to your clit. He loved getting crushed with your thighs, they were so soft and jiggly when they shook. It boosted his own ego to have them at that state because of his meek minitrations. What more can he get from you when he snaps?

He suckles on the bundle of nerves, your toes curls as your hips arched up, eagerly grinding to his mouth while pleading for him to stop since his fingers were reaching too deep into the right places inside. Suna was in his own euphoria, never really pegged himself as a man who would get drunk into the taste of you and a man who has his dick prodded up to the air just by seeing you in such princess-like clothing. Writhing beneath him, you lowered your hand down to his hair, tugging the long, luscious brown locks of his as he won't let go of the erected nub, slurping and nibbling at it like a pro.

His own arousal begging to be freed from his black slack, the infuriating fabric getting compacted uncomfortably, making his cock ache painfully. Removing his hand from your stomach, he unbuckled the belt off of his trousers swiftly, shrugging them down and kicking them off with his legs and feet, finally releasing your nub with a pop and mercy left for you.

Your legs automatically closed themselves to soothe the sensitive regions. Gripping the pillow on the side of your head as your clouded eyes gaze elsewhere into a short subspace, panting with small drool slipping from the corner of your lips. Suna sees this and gets up from the floor to hover over you. He shouldn't be so rough; shouldn't take advantage of this state you are in, not when your such in full daze of your own world, not when you looked already so fucked out when he hasn't gotten to the good part.

"You okay?"

The tip of his nose nudges your cheek softly, like a cat, he nuzzles himself on your flushed skin. It was out of character for him to display such affection, but over the years of being with you, oh how his heart softened and crumbles at the mere presence of you. He peppers your cheeks with little kisses, swiping away the drool with his thumb, murmuring praises and love confessions to you.

"You're cute."

"I'm here, baby."

"Mmm.. You're still dripping."

His voice made you dizzy, strum like a string of tantalizing melody as you inhaled his musky scent that made you dig your nose at the crook of his neck. Whimpering a little when you felt something slide outside your folds, warm and hard, Suna grunts and pants out small puffs of air onto your ear. You were so slick and wet that it was tempting to just dick you down right now. But you were his little baby, he had to take care of you first. He wouldn't want to hurt you.

"Will you let me take care of you?"

Your blown pupils lost the clouds that has surrounded them as you moaned out, his teeth sinking in the tender flesh by your neck with your hips jolting up, meeting with his twitching cock. Hands flying to clutch onto his shoulders, you wished you had kept your legs closed as now your flower was being teased to death. Suna groans when he feels you twitch a little, how adorable, he thoughts.

"Well?"

He bites on your lower lip, tugging it whilst keeping the eye contact with you, like he was ravishing you with his pretty eyes as sweat slid down to your face.

"I'm waiting."

He grabs a hold of his cock, you expected he was going to pump a few jets, but instead he began slapping it against your weeping cunt. Squealing at the sound of wet skin slapping and the small waves of pleasure kicking in, you whined beneath him when he chuckles darkly, looking up to him with puppy like eyes.

"Rin, please.."

He stops, leaning forward so that his forehead was pressing to yours, exhaling out softly when he felt himself release a few pre cum jets out from his cock.

"Please what?"

Even though he was getting as needy as you were, he was still Suna Rintarou, a guy who loves to be in control and manipulate what he can. Loves to endlessly put you on edge to have your small hands scratching his skin, your body trapped from his bigger structure. He was addicted.

Frustrated, tears glossed over your eyes with some slipping down a little. You would've screamed at him for being a big meanie, but now you were stuck pouting and crying when you felt him rut against you once more.

"Please!! Need your cock, Rintarou!!"

As those words escaped your plumped lips, Suna cages you in his arms and quickly switches positions with you in a blink of an eye. Confusion written all over your features as you gasped a little when you were now laying on his chest, Suna adjusting his head on the pillow, enough to see you shaking above him and gives your ass a soft smack, rubbing the soft, globe flesh and squishing it with his hand. Your leotard still pushed to the side, allowing his finger to tease the slit up and down, watching you start to lose yourself above him and push back, hoping to get more friction.

"You said you wanted my cock, right baby?"

You couldn't make out what he was saying, too busy rubbing against the knuckle of his index, clawing his chest to ground yourself. The veins in his arms and hands were noticeable, you can really tell he had been keeping himself together. With you above him, arms pressed to your chest, letting your tits be a show for him, hair fanning your features like some kind of princess as the uniform you were now wearing stuck to your skin from the sweat that had built up. Good thing you had spare ones.

Lining himself up to your cunt, he removes his hand away from you as you cried from the lost. Both of his hands found their way back to your bottom, lifting you up with is before slamming you down to his hard cock with a loud moan erupting from his chest and you left with wide eyes and mouth agape.

"Take it, little girl."

The sudden thrust of his cock stung, but it didn't hurt much. No, it made you shocked, panting as if you were in some sort of heat, tongue sticking out at the feeling of his dick stretching you deliciously, the length and thickness making you feel so stuffed. He felt so deeper in this position, you couldn't move. You felt that if you were to try and thrust up and down, you would break. It was all too much.

Suna felt the same way. His head burnt, spinning like a spell was cast upon him when he was engulfed by the warmth of your cunny. Fuck, your walls kept fluttering and tightening around his cock. Every muscle on his body was flexed as he breathed heavily. You were so heavenly right now, he could cum on the spot inside of you.

"R-rin...So big.."

Covering your mouth with your hands, you tried raising your hips up a little, the lewd friction creating a pleasurable wave to your spine as you sunk down immediately, choking out a moan behind your palms and crying. You couldn't move.

Suna licked his lips at the sight before prying your hands away from your mouth and sitting up against the headboard of the bed, pushing you from the small of your back to his chest closer, his hands roaming around your hot, flushed body and cupping your breast through the fabric. Before you knew it, you squealed loudly when you heard a ripping sound from the chest area.

He had finally ruined the skimpy camisole leotard from you, letting your breast free with his face nuzzling into them and taking a nipple in his mouth. His hands went back to your hips, finally guiding you to a slow rhythm as he thrusts back carefully. Moaning softly, you cradled his head in your arms while he suckles on your nipples. Relishing the soft, yet deep thrusts given to you as each second passes.

"Y-you a-ah..Had to r-rip it, o-oh my—"

Tugging his hair from his roots when he moved to the other breast and bit harshly. He tugged the nippled with his teeth softly before lapping his tongue to soothe away the sting.

"You have spare ones. Besides,"

Pushing away from you, his eyes raked to your entirely new look. The ripped fabric hanging loosely with your breast on display, your cunt being stuffed full with his cock, you and your entire form within his control.

"You look so precious right now."

He delivers one hard thrust that made you fall to his chest, only then do you realize that you were not the one moving, but him all along. His pace quickens, the moans and cries from you onlt fueling him more. Suna shuts his eyes as his senses heightened by you.

"U-unf, hah— I'm sorry!!"

Your tears falling to his chest made him shiver and worry, he tried slowing doen his pace, but he feels your hips move around cutely trying to meet with his movements.

"I-I'm sorry, R-in...Ah— I couldn't mo-move!"

You were apologizing just because you couldn't give him the exact treatment and pleasure he was giving you. Normally, guilt would eat you out at this second, but you were far more succumbed by feeling stuffed, the thought of him cumming inside you blocked all other thoughts away. Precious, absolutely precious.

His hand cupped your cheek, giving it a small pinch of adoration and wiping away the tears that had still been falling from receiving his cock.

"It's okay, let me handle you, sweetheart."

Screaming, he began ramming himself inside of you. It burned, it burned so good it hurts, like your insides were being rearranged. His balls smacking up to your ass that was shaking and being squeezed and slapped by Suna's other hand in repeat. You could only stick your tongue out as you tried to make a sound, but it was all too good all that was left is you sobbing dumbly on his chest with Suna grunting and whispering praises beneath you.

"S-so fucking tight.. God, princess, I feel like ah— 'm gonna break you."

Petting your hair, he doesn't stop his pace. They weren't lying when they said this man uses his entire body to use. Was he so strong and flexible to be able to do this to you. Your balled fist went to grab his hand from your hair, lacing your fingers with his and held his hand, weakly raising your head up.

"A-ah, ah, inside.. Please.. Rin, 'm g-gonna break.. need you. Ngh!! INSIDE!!"

Your voice came out louder at the end when his tip reaches your spot. Moans turning into those you'd hear in pornography feeling your cunt get abused.

"Shit—"

He looked so nefarious; head thrown back, his mouth opening and closing, trying to silent out his own moans to his embarrassment and his hand holding yours tightly. He was to drool for, a real life incubus.

"I-I'm cumming..fuck, take it, baby."

"R-RINTAROU!! N-NO, NO MORE HAH— SLOW DOWN! R-RIN!!"

"SHIT, (Y/N)—"

Your cunt convulsed around his pulsing cock. The rush of adrenaline wrapping themselves to every fiber of your bones as you sobbed loudly, feeling yourself cream for what it's worth around his cock, his own hot, load shooting inside your womb, holding his breath as both your hands gripped each other with toes curling.

"F-fuck, you okay?"

Finishing the last drop, he doesn't pull out immediately. Not wanting to suddenly knock out some oxygen from you, he gives the crown of your head kisses with his thumb stroking the back of your hand. You puffed out breathy pants, body tired and throat scratchy from what happened seconds ago. The redness of your cheeks and the baby hairs the stuck to your forehead made you look so adorable to his eyes, that he leaned forward to kiss your temple.

"T-thank you, Rin...Love you so much."

He can make out the small hearts in your dazed eyes, mewling softly when he accidentally thrusts in while moving his position. Your eyes scrunched up closed, burying yourself on his chest with a small voice,

"Sensitive.."

"I know."

His other arm wrapped around you tightened, rubbing his cheek on your head affectionately. He loved moments like this in doors, just you, him, your bodies as one together in bed. His beautiful, little ballerina in his arms with the soft, baby pink and look on her features and body. It made him smile secretly from you.

"I love you too, my ballerina."

And he began moving again inside of you.

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenario #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu oneshots #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu smut #haikyuu suna #suna rintarou #suna x reader #suna x you #suna rintarou scenarios #suna smut #suna rintarou smut #haikyuu kinktober 2020 #haikyuu kinktober #suna rintarou imagines #suna rintarou headcanons #suna fluff

[mrs-gucci]

Subliminal Pleasures {anesthesiologist!Kylo Ren x Reader}

author’s notes: hellooo! thanks to my good friend @safarigirlsp​, I finally wrote my first darkfic. thanks for ruining me a little bit, Shannon! ;) I’ll warn you now, this is honestly the darkest thing I’ve ever written before, and at first I was a little nervous, but I’m surprisingly pleased with how it turned out. and hey, it’s called fanFICTION for a reason, right? 

**THIS IS A DARKFIC THAT CONTAINS DARK THEMES/CONTENT!! please read the warnings and tw’s before proceeding!!**

warnings: smut. non-existent medical practice ethics. kylo’s a bad doctor, but damn, he looks good doing it. mentions of a medical procedure. some fingering. light dirty talk. masturbation. praise.

tw’s: noncon (but it’s not unpleasant, if that makes sense?). somnophilia.

word count: a touch over 2k

When you came into the hospital today for your dental surgery, no makeup and clad in baggy sweats, you weren’t prepared to meet anyone even remotely interesting or attractive, much less the anesthesiologist. 

And, when he walked into the room, your heart immediately skipped a beat, maybe even two.

He was one of the most handsome men you’d ever seen before. Handsome seemed like an insult and injustice to his beauty when it came to the broad, raven-haired god. He wore a very stern expression as he sat over in the corner of the room in a stool much too small for his great size, gathering his tools. 

“Hmm,” His eyes scan the file. “Miss Y/N?”

You nod over at him.

“That’s me.”

He turns back to preparing himself for surgery. “I’m Dr. Ren, the anesthesiologist.”

“Nice to meet you, Dr. Ren.”

A silence stretched between the two of you, the only sounds coming from his movements or your adjusting positions on the paper-covered seat. Then, he speaks again, voice even deeper and somewhat huskier than before. It sent a shiver down your spine.

“Have you ever previously been put under for a medical procedure, or otherwise?”

“I have.” You reply. “Although I didn’t think that I’d need it for this type of procedure?”

He turns around in the stool, a small smirk on his expression.

“Would you like to be awake when your teeth are hammered into pieces and pulled from your mouth?”

Normally, you would’ve laughed at this joking question, but his delivery and sinister demeanor chilled you to the bone.  “N-No, not really.”

“Then you’ll be put under.” He simply states, pulling on a pair of latex gloves before handing you a fabric gown. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Strip and put this on. The snaps should be on your left shoulder, otherwise you’ve put it on incorrectly.”

Looking into his eyes takes your breath away, out of captivation or a bit of fear, you were unsure. He holds onto the gown a bit too long before releasing his grip, eyes lingering over your face before walking out of the room with commanding footsteps.

Despite his chilling intensity and seemingly emotionless demeanor, you still found yourself incredibly attracted to him. There was something...magnetic about him, like the mysterious aura surrounding him draws you in. The warm tingle between your thighs was undeniable as you stood and removed your clothes, tucking them in your bag off to the side before slipping the gown on over your mostly nude body.

Dr. Ren comes back in as soon as you lay back on the chair once again, his timing impeccable. He puts on a surgical mask and rolls the equipment over on a small cart, parking it next to your head.

“We’ll put you under now.”

“W-What?” Your eyes widen. “But the doctor hasn’t even come in yet.”

He glares down at you.

“Must I remind you who the medical professional in the room is?”

“No, sir.” You shake your head, lips pursing as your eyes dart away.

The mask is placed over your nose and mouth.

“Breathe in and out deeply, count to ten.”

Your eyelids grow heavy almost immediately as you begin taking deep breaths, letting the invisible medication into your lungs. 

“One...two...three...four...five...s-six...sev-seven...eigh...t...”

Kylo grins when you’re finally under, body limp as you sleep peacefully under his influence. He loved his job, loved having complete control over someone’s consciousness, loved having the power between life and death.

His cock hardens in his pants as he reclines the chair so that you’re now laying flat. You don’t move a muscle, and he quickly removes his latex gloves along with his mask, tossing them into the bin.

He’s never had a patient like you before, so beautiful, so docile and obedient, so...seemingly innocent. He wants nothing more and would take great pleasure in absolutely ruining you, turning you into his pretty little slut.

The doctor wasn’t even here yet, as you were his first surgery patient today, but Kylo knew without doubt that he needed time alone with you. He needed to have his way with you.

With one last flicker to the locked door, he brings his hand down beneath his trousers and wraps it around his hardened cock, groaning under his breath with the first pump. Your vitals are stable as his other hand begins popping the snaps of your medical gown.

He pulls it open and lets it hang down over the side of the table, exposing your body to him. All you’re wearing is your undergarments, and yet, Kylo’s length pulses in his hand at the sight. You’re truly a sight to behold, even with your intimate areas covered.

You squirm just a bit when the doctor’s large hand grazes over your ankle, but he knows he won’t wake you, not completely anyways. His hand trails up over your calf, then over your thigh, climbing until he reaches the underwire of your flimsy bra. 

There’s not enough time to remove it, to expose your pebbled nipples to his hungry gaze, but he spreads his large hand over the mound, squeezing it gently. In your unconscious state, your back arches slightly and a soft sigh escapes your lips under his touch. 

His hand pumps his cock faster as he bends down and presses a few kisses to the fabric over your nipple, walking around to give your other breast a similar treatment. Then, he walks to the foot of the table and mounts it, kneeling between your legs. 

Both his hands spread out on your inner thighs, gently spreading them apart before tracing his thick, calloused digits across the crotch of your panties. You squirm again, hips subconsciously rocking up to meet his touch.

“That’s a good girl.” He purrs, rubbing small, lazy circles on your clit over the fabric. “Even like this, you still want it. You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

Kylo dips his fingers beneath your panties, cock twitching under his pants as his fingers swipe through the considerable amount of slick there. He finds your clit, rubbing it gently, enough to stimulate but not disturb you.

“Look at this...you’re absolutely soaked for me, little dove, and you don’t even know it.”

His hands grip your hips and lift them up as he slides your panties down, revealing the glistening treasure that lay below. He lines a single finger up with your entrance, then pushes it in, growling softly when your cunt clenches.

You stir just a bit, but not nearly enough for him to worry. He lifts his digit up inside you, enjoying the way your hips suddenly jerk as he rubs over the spongy surface of that special spot. Then, he pushes another one of his fingers inside of you, hearing a soft whine from beneath the mask.  

He begins fingering you gently, just enough to prepare you, making sure not to force you back into consciousness. Soon, it became too much for him, and he pulled his digits out gently, observing the slick that coats the two fingers. He brings them up and takes a quick whiff, cupping his clothed erection and squeezing as his tongue pokes out to lick some of the substance off, hips bucking forward at the semi-sweet taste.

“Oh, little one, you’ve got such a tight little pussy. And you taste so good, just as I knew you would.”

The young doctor wipes the rest off on the paper below, then makes quick work of his pants and underwear, pulling them down just enough to expose his aching length. It bobs in response, desperate for attention as another bead of precum forms over the slit. His finger spreads the semi-transparent substance over the fat mushroom head, groaning breathily. 

After giving his thick length a few strokes, he brings it down to rub through your slick. They buck forward out of instinct when he slides over your puckered entrance, wanting so badly to be buried inside of you. 

His body leans over you, one hand next to your head as the other lines himself up, aiding in direction as he presses his hips forward, burying himself inside your wet welcoming walls. His eyes flutter shut as he bottoms out, but quickly snap open when you moan.

Luckily, you hadn’t woken up with his intrusion, and he takes a long sigh of relief before drawing back and pressing forward again slowly. The table trembles on its legs, bolts creaking as he fucks you steadily but gently, extra cautious of your vital signs and level of alertness.

Part of him wishes that you were awake, that you could see what he was doing to you and enjoy him, but the feeling of knowing that even unconsciously, you were still wet and tight for him was one too good to resist. It was all so arousing; an ego feeding greater than his regular days work could ever offer.

Your face scrunches in pleasure with more rolls of his hips, moaning and whimpering each time he buries himself inside you. They’re all so gentle, your noises, and Kylo finds himself lost in each quiet breath.

“Good girl--fuck--oh, good girl.” He says quietly, using every bit of his willpower to keep from pounding into you. “Such a good little cunt, taking my cock so well.”

You tighten around him, then, and he growls, fists clenching next to your head. His teeth grind together as he picks up the pace ever so slightly, feeling his climax approaching quickly.

“T-That’s it, that’s a good girl.”

His head hangs, eyes squeezing shut. He’s close, now, and his own noises get a little bit louder and a lot more frequent as his balls begin to pull and tighten.

“Gonna cum, little dove, you’re g-gonna make me cum so hard with this tight pussy.”

Unbenounced to him, you wake up slightly, eyes opening just a crack. You see him on top of you, body flexing with each thrust, and you feel the obvious intrusion in your lower half. You’re surprisingly not bothered by it, nor do you feel uncomfortable with it. Before you can think on it further, you slip back into the blackness.

He can’t cum inside you, he knows that, so just as he teeters on orgasm, he pulls out as gently as he can and drags his pulsing cock against your lower stomach as thick white ropes paint your soft skin.

“O-Oh y-yes...so good, d-dove.”

Kylo takes himself through orgasm and right into oversensitivity, pulling away and sitting up when this happens. His length softens, the extra skin re-covering his head as it does so. He tucks himself back into his pants, prepares a wet cloth and wipes the cum from your abdomen before pulling your panties back up over your used cunt. 

His fingers quickly re-button your gown and he runs a quick hand through his hair before the doctor comes in, completely oblivious as to what’s just happened. Kylo greets him nonchalantly and takes his place off to the side as the doctor begins the surgery.

Your eyes flutter open lazily, grogginess hitting as you awaken a couple of hours later. Immediately, you feel the pain in your mouth, but more noticeably, you feel a certain ache in your lower half. You have no recollection of what you saw, as this memory is now trapped in your subconscious, but somehow you just sort of knew what’d happened.

You’re disgusted at yourself that you don’t mind the idea, that you don’t feel violated or like you’d been assaulted. You should feel those things, he did those things without your express permission, but...you don’t.

In fact, you feel as if your feelings for the mysterious doctor have grown even stronger. The gaping hole he’d left, the orgasm he’d robbed you of, just ached to be fulfilled. It was an itch you couldn’t scratch, sensations you couldn’t recreate on your own.

Only he could satisfy this desire, this need. 

And, as you sit up slowly and the doctor debriefs you, you know that you must fulfill this new destiny: Find Dr. Ren and make him yours once again.

#adamdriverwriter #adam driver #adam driver character #adam driver smut #kylo ren darkfic #kylo ren #darkfic #tw: noncon #tw: somnophilia #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren x you #kylo ren x reader smut #anesthesiologist!Kylo Ren #dr. kylo ren au #dr. ren

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Feral Love - A Chris Evans/Reader One Shot Story.

Big thanks to my lovely @lafrenchdevancouver​ for the request that inspired this! 

Tag list - @denisemarieangelina @hannel0re-blog  @movingmusically @ce-vans @thummbelina @redhairedfeistynerd​ @patzammit​ @sweetllamaparadise​​​ @poetic-heart​

(Do please message if you wish to be added to the taglist. I’d love to see Chris get a bigger following over here as he is a muse who is most definitely here to stay!)

You knew when you first saw it that the dress you chose would raise some eyebrows. Long, dark red and with a slit that goes all the way to the waist almost, revealing your entire bare leg (and a lot more without some strategically placed double sided tape) your look was the talk of the red carpet and, as you would later discover, would continue to be a hot topic of conversation once the pictures of you and your boyfriend hit the media outlets the world over.  

Usually, you shrink back at events, but this time, you wanted to shine a little as well. Chris certainly agreed you’d do just that in the dress you chose. That dress...that dress. Ultimately, you wore it because you knew it would drive him wild, that it would make his eyes seldom leave you, ensure he’d look at you just like he’s doing now.  

“I think we need to leave. I have some intentions that I’d like to make clear in physical terms,” he whispers in your ear as you finish your glass of wine at the afterparty.  

“Is that an eloquent way of telling me you want to take me back to the hotel and fuck me senseless?” You enquire, making him smile and raise his eyebrows. He doesn’t answer you in words, taking your hand and pulling you up to stand, sliding an arm around you before escorting you towards the door.  

As soon as you’re sitting comfortably in the back of a limo, he makes his move to slowly caress the vast expanse of bare leg that’s been tantalising him all night, sweeping his hand from your hip to ankle as he leans to kiss you with uncontained passion.

With the privacy screen up, the back seat is your playground to do all manner of acts that wouldn’t be appropriate for the driver to be made visually privy to. This play begins with you moving to sit astride him, unfastening his tie and shirt, wanting the access to his neck which their presence prevents.  

He groans a soft grumble at your teeth scraping the column of his throat, all hungry kisses and nibbles over stubble flecked flesh, his hands gliding down your back in sumptuous exploration of all he’s been craving for hours.  

The grit of his groan as you sway your hips forward against him, grinding his crotch and awakening his cock goes right to your cunt, his hand there moments after, rubbing you through your tiny, seamless thong.  

The heat of you has him seeking your lips, exchanging scorching kisses in a battle of eager tongues, having you panting into his mouth as his fingertips seek your clit through the thin fabric of your underwear.  

That action has an immediate radiating effect, heat building to tempest as you mewl and kiss him fiercely, your hand plunging between you to unfasten his belt with eager haste, wanting to feel him too.  

“No, babe. You’ll get me so fucking hard, I won’t be able to hide it when we get out of the car. You always do.” He pants, tongue swirling with yours again as he grips your wrist lightly, moving it away from his crotch. You grumble with frustration, soon being distracted though when his fingers slip beneath the cloth separating them from your wet, pink folds, stroking your slick deftly.

He circles your bud, making pleasure glimmer through your core before he slides a finger into your wetness, mouth shuddering a groan against your lips.  

“Fuck, you’re soaking,” he observes, stroking your walls, crooking his finger and raking at you as you tighten around it appreciatively. “I can’t wait to get my mouth all over this beautiful pussy.” He then tells you, his free hand unzipping your dress, hastily pulling the front down to reveal your breasts, mouth devouring your nipples in turn with gusto.  

You twist against his hand, hips bucking into him, ravenous for more. It is with regret for you both that only a few more minutes pass before the car draws to a halt outside of your hotel, clothing hastily rearranged before you exit and walk up the front steps arm in arm.  

You cross the lobby in a haze of pent-up arousal, your undies stuck to you, you’re so wet and ravenous for him. He doesn’t help things by standing right behind you while you wait for the elevator to descend, hand discreetly fondling your butt.  

As soon as you step inside, it’s like the wait between pulling a pin from a grenade, launching it and waiting for the explosion, standing beside one another looking nothing short of calm. As soon as those doors slide shut though, he’s on you.  

Your back hits the side of the enclosed space, Chris shunting a thigh between yours, your legs springing open as you kiss one another with ferocious hunger. He then reaches back and hits the elevator stop button, turning back to crouch before you, reaching for your thong to yank it down your legs.  

“Here?” You ask with excitement.  

“Oh yeah. I can’t wait.” With that, he buries his mouth at your apex, tasting you keenly and making you buck against his tongue. Pleasure crackles up your spine, your hips purling against his mouth as he eats you eagerly, sating your hunger as he sucks and licks your aqueous womanhood like a man half starved.  

Your fingers tangle in his hair, nails clawing over his scalp as he draws lust drenched noises from you, letting you ride the flat of his tongue as he looks up and watches you, smiling filthily before his mouth closes and his cheeks hollow, your clit sucked upon with the kind of force that has your howling his name.  

Your thighs tremble, Chris moving one of your legs to rest over his shoulder, giving his ravenous mouth greater access to your slick, pink folds, bestowing long, slow licks upon you, your clit throbbing against his tongue.  

Your cunt twitches with the need to be filled, to feel his cock splitting you, your desire raging like wild fire, his mouth not relenting in tending to you with ruinous zeal, tongue circles at your clit quickening as he pushes two fingers into your heat.  

You begin grinding against his hand as he pushes against you hard, massaging your inner walls as your silky fluid begins to trickle over his knuckles, he has you so aroused. “Fuck.” He grits, turning his head to gently bite your thigh before returning his tongue to you.  

Each long, wet lick from his tongue has you shivering against his touch, your thighs brushing against his face as he eats you vigorously, groaning while he does it and looking up to watch you lose yourself to the pleasure he’s currently sending you out of your mind with.

You’re glimmering with incandescence, panting hard as you clutch the rail behind you, crying out as he works you to your undoing, but yet when you’re almost there, tipped into him like warm liquid overboiling, you push him back to join him on the elevator floor.  

“I need you, baby. I want your cock inside me. Let me fuck you.” You purr, yanking his shirt open, sending the buttons flying as you kiss wantonly and filthily, groaning into one another’s mouths, Chris hitching your dress up around your waist as you release his cock, positioning him against your opening and bearing down to encase him in your slippery heat.

You gasp at the gratification of being joined, rolling your hips into him to ensnare those final few delicious inches of his thick erection. He groans carnivorously, hands all over you, clasping your face, fingers grazing your neck and squeezing your tits before finally settling at your ass, gripping it hard as he thrusts up into each of your downward movements.  

You’re pressed against him so tightly that your clit rubs against the soft skin on his lower abs as you grind the length of his cock, sending salacious tingles through your body, making you jolt and judder atop him as you pant against his mouth.  

Impressively, he manages to stand with you in his arms, not losing the tangency between you, moving to back you against the mirrored side, holding your legs open and beginning to pound into you savagely.  

His thickness drags your walls deftly, mouth at your neck, startling you when he reaches out to hit the stop button again, the elevator shuddering into life.  

“Chris, what if someone is waiting on our floor?” You hiss, your man only slowing to smile at you, entertained.  

“Then they get a free show,” he begins, laughing. “No one’s gonna be around at 1:30am! Besides, it kinda makes it more exciting, wondering if that’s the case or if we’re about to get caught,” he replies, still chuckling at your slightly daunted face and continuing to keep on fucking you in a way that has you past caring again just as the elevator arrives on your floor.  

The coast is clear as you’re carried out into the quiet, empty hallway, your back hitting the wall opposite the elevators as he continues to fuck you, right there adjacent to someone’s room. He holds your legs wide, the back of each knee sliding into the crook of his arms as he begins to thrust into you forcefully once more.  

Pinned between the wall and his hard, broad chest, his mouth at your neck as you cling onto him, fucked assiduously by your lover, it takes everything you have not to verbalise, to scream like a banshee, biting your lip as the excitement creeps over you in a flood of electric tingles.

Although it’s late, anyone could suddenly leave their room and catch you, the thrill of such working as a potent aphrodisiac to what is already a burning hot, illicit encounter. If you knew wearing a dress like that would make him this ravenous, you’d have done so much sooner.  

It’s unbridled, passionate, have-to-have-you-immediately sex, raw and uncontained, his cock hitting your summit as you flex around him, the sound of him cutting through your wetness the only audible noise along with your mutual heavy breathing.  

Your cunt clenches on him, sparks crackling through you as the heat of him cuts right through to the marrow of you, hard and unrelenting. He steals the groan you cannot contain any longer with more sumptuous, hungry kisses, suddenly moving away from the wall and carrying you the short walk down the hallway to your room.  

Once within, you both paw at each other’s clothes, Chris withdrawing from you for only the time it takes for you both to undress each other, the feel of his skin on yours as he sinks back inside you completely overwhelming.  

He spears into you so deeply, your tits bounce, your nipples becoming his focal point as he grips your hips, fingers digging into your skin as the pebbled pink peaks are sucked upon by him. He has you groaning curses, your nails flexing at his shoulders as he assaults your cunt with deep, hard thrusts, speed gone for the moment.  

He’s heavy within you, dragging your fluttering walls, hot breaths blasting against your cleavage before his mouth claims yours once more and you drink back the groan that pours from his lips, your insides twisting pleasantly as you feel him shudder against you.  

Pleasure fizzes through you, lewd noises as he speeds up filling the air along with your mutual moans, his cock saturated in your silky dew, your cunt so soft and wet against his thick, steely hardness.  

Pushing into his chest, you move him onto his back, drawing his legs up behind you and gripping them as you drive down onto him, wanting to ride him to the most magmatic of finishes, his blue eyes locked on yours, mouth agape, looking utterly mouth-watering.  

“Mmmm, that’s it, baby. Cum on my cock.” He encourages you with, voice sheer gravel with lust, hands bracketing your hips as you feel the tingles beginning to glitter at the base of your spine, waiting for the cold heat to rush like a faucet exploding.  

His skilful fingers move to your clit, rubbing heat there as you grip him tightly, your cunt in spasm as he twitches within your walls, your lightning snapping through his dark sky, illuminating, spreading the sudden and sharp release of energy through him too.

“Oh god...fuck!” You grit as it crests and almost topples you, throbbing heat encompassing you entirely as you feel him fill you with his hot release, grunting with effort as your bodies chase every last throb, tensing and then softening in the aftermath as all becomes slow again.  

“I think I need to send the guy who designed my dress a thank you note,” you pant, Chris laughing beneath you as he fights for air.  

“Sign my name on there too.” He instructs, pulling you down into his arms to kiss you lovingly.  

After Chris’s appreciation and physical confirmation of your dress choice, you know you’ll definitely purchase more gowns from the designer in the future if what you shared in the car, the elevator, the hallway and finally the hotel room are anything to go by.  

#chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans smut #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fic #chris evans imagine #chris evans imagines #chris evans request #chris evans fandom #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x ofc #chris evans x oc #chris evans x yn #chris evans x y/n #chris evans steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fic #the avengers #the avengers smut #the avengers fanfiction #the avengers fic #the avengers fanfic #captain america fanfiction #captain america #captain america fic #captain america smut

[sugako]

backseat care

kyotani x f!reader  sum: getting elbowed in the face at a concert isn’t new for you, but at least this time it’s by a hot guy  cw: 18+ minors dni, nsfw, minor accidental violence (reader gets a bloody nose/split lip from kyo), mentions of blood, mentions of alcohol (but no one is drunk), slight public sex/car sex, oral (f!receiving), slight overstim, creampie, strangers to lovers wc: 2.4k a/n: i have had such bad writers block lately, but i’ve been wanting to write more kyo content for so long and i miss going to loud basement shows so why not combine both also there’s a longish intro just an fyi

the amount of pain from the limb crashing into your face isn’t all that different from what you’ve felt before. things get messy in the pit, you know that, but when you reach up to wipe the sweat from your upper lip you realize it smells a lot more like copper. just as your nose starts to leak the assailant spins around, looking as if he’s about to tell you off for getting in the way of his arm before his expression drops.

kyotani can’t believe he just gave the prettiest girl he’s ever seen a bloody nose and split lip. your head is tilted down, desperately trying to catch the blood in your palms as you cover up the bottom part of your face. the lights are flashing and it’s dark, but he feels like he can see all of you. 

“i’m sorry.” he huffs over the music. 

“it’s fine, i’m just gonna, uhh...” you choke out, lightly pinching your nose with a little wince. 

“c’mon,” he sighed, “let’s go see if there’s a first aid kit around.” he was already grabbing your arm and dragging you out of the mess of people before you could respond. his firm grip made your mind wander, momentarily distracted from the mess that was your face. 

after scrounging the dingy, cramped space for close to five minutes, he gives a defeated huff. 

“nothing?” you asked nasally, the blood finally slowing to a crawl. he shakes his head, eyebrows tightening together even more. 

“i have a kit in my car if you’re okay with that.” 

“tell me your name and promise you won’t murder me?” you breathe out, already texting the friend you came with about your little injury and that you were stepping out with a stranger. “you don’t really look creepy, but you never know.”

“kentarō kyōtani and no.” he quips back, still guiding you with his hand clamped around your arm out of the building. 

the cool night air runs right through your body, quelling the hotness that’s built up in your face. thankfully, his car is only two spots away from the exit. it’s tiny and black with two thin silver stripes that remind you of the ones that run through his hair, giving him a pseudo-mohawk.

he opens up the rear door, grabbing a box from the floor and motioning for you to sit, of which you happily oblige. under the dim light the car gives off you can clearly see his honey brown eyes and the way his eyeliner is smudged around.

“does it feel broken?” he asks about your nose, cautiously grabbing your chin to inspect the injuries. 

“no, i don’t think so. my mouth really hurts though.” you mumble out, heart racing under his calloused touch. 

“good, it doesn’t look broken. and your lip is a little split.” he rummages through the kit, pulling out a wipe that he carefully rubs along your face where the blood has caked and dried. 

“you’re pretty good at this, go to lots of rough shows?” you awkwardly break the tense quiet, trying to not move your lips much as you talk. 

“no, i play volleyball.” he says simply. it’s impossible for you to really tell whether it’s a joke or not, but out of gut reaction you laugh. “i’m not kidding,” he sighs, tossing the dirty wipe in a small trash carrier inside the car and pulling a tiny pad from the kit to press to your open lip. 

“oh, sorry, really? that’s pretty cool. didn’t realize volleyball was really a big contact sport. though i guess you could get hit in the face with the ball a lot.” 

“don’t get hit a ton in the face in Division 2 volleyball, but you can fall hard.”

another moment of silence passes when he takes the padding away from your lip and inspects your face once again. although your heart hasn’t slowed, it seems he’s just realized how close you’re faces are and how he’s kneeling between your thighs that keep twitching every time he leans in a little closer. 

“i wouldn’t expect a, uh, a professional volleyball player at a place like this.” voice all spluttery like you can’t control it. 

“you shouldn’t assume things about people.” he says simply, not moving a muscle. “your lips look better now,” he’s whispering now, the smooth vibrations of his voice echoing around in your head like a bouncy ball, “wanna try them out?” 

part of you wants to laugh at how cheesy his words are, but more of you is interested in how his lips would feel against yours. he doesn’t move a muscle, the needy feeling that’s burning inside of him can’t be seen through his eyes, but you catch it in the way his jaw tenses while he patiently waits for your answer. 

“that’s a great idea,” you whisper back as his face closes in on yours. 

his motions are gentle and measured, it’s easy to tell he’s holding back by the way his hands twitch against your waist. carefully, he’s avoiding the edge of your lip where it’s still bruised and open, but as he presses harder and harder into you, the pain grows. nothing about the kiss is nice - everything tastes of cheap beer, blood, sweat, and disinfectant, but it feels good. 

it feels as though his clawing fingers are burning into your sides, forcing you further into the backseat of the car. letting yourself willingly move back, he clumsily reaches up to snap the automatic light off in the roof, not quite closing the door all the way behind him. 

when his teeth scrape against your wound, you let out a small yelp against your own will. before the noise is even done coming out of your mouth, he pulls away, adjusting so he isn’t crushing you so hard into the seats, and cradling your face. 

“sorry,” you pant out, “just hurts a little.” 

at this angle he can see how little tears have pricked in the edge of your eyes, purely from the gentle stinging pain. it hurts his heart a little that he’s caused you some pain, but you look so pretty like this with your teary eyes and pink tongue sticking out as you quietly gasp for air. 

“let’s give you a little break, huh.” he chuckles, sitting back on his heels and grabbing your knees to hook over his shoulders. it takes a minute for your foggy brain to realize what’s happening, but as he lowers himself between your thighs, the sight makes you clench around nothing and everything clicks into place. 

suddenly you’re glad you wore a skirt. he nips up your already shaking thighs, eyes locked between your legs groaning at the pretty panties that were clinging to the slickness of your folds. he flips your skirt up, pressing your knees tighter to your body when his broad shoulders lift your legs higher. 

“please...?” you whimper when you feel his breath against you. 

“need to cum?” he questions, teasingly, mouthing over your clothed cunt. 

“yes, please, wanna cum.” hips barely jerking under him, desperate for anything. 

“pfft, i can tell. so wet already.” kyōtani mumbles into you just before he reaches his arms around your legs and rests them just above your pelvis, using one hand to pull aside the thin fabric. before the cool air could even hit your exposed flesh, his mouth came down on you, messily lapping up your slit, tasting you completely before he began to circle your clit. 

when he finally arrives at your sensitive, little bud your hips involuntarily twitch against him, begging for release. hot breaths and moans filled up the space of the car, barely escaping through the tiny crack where the backdoor wasn’t completely closed, just resting against the hinge. 

the small fear of being caught or seen urged you on, encouraging you to cum as fast as you could. not that you really needed to do much when he had such great control of his tongue and two of his fingers easily slipped past your entrance, curling against your spongey walls. 

“k-kentarō!” you squeaked out, waves of relief edging up on you, “gonna cum, please, gonna cum.” the words came out like a broken record, separated by little hiccupped moans. 

“asking permission?” his low laugh vibrated across you skin. “that’s cute.” as soon as the words were out, he went back lapping and sucking your swollen clit. 

it only took moments for you to fall into your high, body squirming under him, limbs twitching in time with the way your cunt clamped around his fingers that just kept pumping into you. all the while his mouth didn’t stop, he didn’t even hesitate. 

he just kept lapping up your clit until your nails were digging into his wrist that was resting on your tummy, sobbing out moans. you didn’t want him to stop but the feeling was overwhelming, like you couldn’t stop cumming. briefly, you wondered if it was always supposed to be like this, body and brain turning fuzzy as he finally slowed enough for you to rest. 

the little whine you let out when he took his fingers from your pulsing hole made him grind his hips into the seat. you let out a low groan as you watched him stick his fingers into his mouth and suck them clean, his eyes never leaving yours. 

“feel good?” he grumbles out, languidly flattening his tongue against you to take another slow lap. 

it’s nearly impossible to focus with the way he’s touching you, but you manage out the words you want to say. “uh-huh, want...want more.” you shyly make out. 

“more?” one of his angled brows shoots up before he shrugs and roughly laps against your clit. body betraying you, it crumbles under him, hips already bucking up into his nose again before you can reach down and drag him off of you by his short curls. 

“no...no,” you gasp, “want your cock.” 

his eyes soften for a second before the expression is replaced with something a little more feral. “why not just say so.” he hums, pants already unbuttoned, pulling them down just enough so his cock can slip out. 

you can’t help the gasp that breaks past your lips. it’s embarrassing, but he’s beautiful and you’re sure that his pretty cock could fill you up two times over. before you bask too much in the pleasantness of the moment, he reaches down to tear at your panties. 

“hey!” you yelp, unable to do much with your ankles still propped up on his shoulders. 

“eh, there was a pull in the seam anyway.” he says back lamely, leaning back in so he can loom over you, smirking when his cock slaps against your folds and you squirm under him.

“i...i liked them.” you pout, trying to ignore the burn between your legs. he presses a hot kiss against your jaw and licks up the shell of your ear. admittedly, he liked them quite a bit too.

“go on a real date with me sometime and i’ll get you a new pair.” his hips rut against yours, rubbing the tip of his cock against your still sensitive folds. 

“oh, uhh- okay, yeah.” surprised by his proposition, but already hoping you’d meet him again, you quickly agree. 

“good.” he says while he lines himself, pushing in and trying to ignore how tightly you were clenching around him. his thumb comes down on your clit, rubbing tight circles to get you to settle as he bottomed out. 

your eyes didn’t deceive you, he certainly filled you to the brim and he knew how to use his entire body. still so close from his prior ministrations you found yourself already shuddering under his touch, the coil in your belly snapping even more harshly this time as you came undone around his cock. 

he shallowly pumped into you, getting you used to the size while you squeezed and sucked him in. 

“feel so good,” he grunts, “want me to fuck this pretty pussy?”

it’s not a real question, not when you’re arching into him, whimpering and moaning incoherencies, but you quickly nod to answer anyway. his grin makes your heart race, and he hurries to pull out nearly all the way before slamming back into you, setting a quick pace from the start. 

you have the brace the back of your head to stop it from crashing into the car door as he rams you into the seats, body at the will of his harsh thrusts. mouth open in a silent scream, only choked whines crack out from your throat that he quickly swallows up with a messy kiss. 

pent up from the entire day and the ghost of the taste of your cunt still on his lips, he feels himself getting close, encouraged on by the way you keep fluttering around him. as if sensing, by the way his kiss tightens up and his arms tense, you pull away and nod up at him. 

“want you to cum in me.” you quickly assure him. 

he lets out a sharp gasp, hips already stuttering against yours as he nods back in silent agreement. swallowing hard, he rests his head against your shoulder, letting his hips fall against yours, cock twitching against your aching, gummy walls, filling you with cum. 

after his labored breathing slows and you relax under him, he presses a soft kiss to your cheek and steadily sits up and pulls out. the gasp you let out when you’re empty is nearly enough to make his cock twitch again, but he holds back. he watches as your poor cunt quivers around nothing, eyeing the way his cum slowly dribbles out of you. 

achingly, you sit up when he lets your legs slide off his arms, leaning against the car door closest to you to get a good look at him while he tucks himself back into his pants, ignoring the messy, stickiness between his legs for now. you feel the mix of cum between your legs start to seep out, tightly closing your thighs to keep from making a mess on his car seats. 

grabbing your phone from where it had fallen onto the floor, you toss it at him before grabbing your destroyed panties off the spot in the bench between the two of you. 

“put your number in. we can go shopping this weekend.” you sigh with a soft smile. for once, getting a dumb injury at a shitty show was worth your while. 

#kyotani x reader #kyotani smut #hq smut #kyotani kentaro x reader #kentarou x reader #maddog x reader #maddog smut

[histarean]

not your fault

pairings: eren yeager x female reader

wc: 1.5k

content warnings: dubcon, unprotected sex, oral (female receiving), creampie, public sex, orgasm denial

note: i couldn't stop thinking about plane sex with eren so i impulsively wrote this while i was flying

(NSFW 18+ minors DNI)

stepping through the flimsy doors of the bathroom, you breathe in the strong smell of sanitizer. it’s never ideal using plane restrooms but you still had five hours until landing and there was no way you could wait. debating between the options of getting it over and done with or peeing yourself, the former seemed better. you promised this wouldn’t take more than two minutes, then you could go back to the safety of your seat.

taking a deep breath, you turned around to slide the door closed. the blast of cool air above trying to ventilate the tiny room was just a reminder of all the germs festering around you.

you hesitantly pinch the lock shut, but a large hand stopped it by a few inches. instantly put into panic mode from this invasion, you froze up allowing the hand to turn into a man inviting himself in.

“‘s’cuse me, this is occupied sir,” your voice evidently shaking.

“I don't see you pushing me out,” he reached behind him the lock clicking.

“p-please leave,” you whisper, backing away.

“oh? don’t think i didn’t see you staring at me, it was very disturbing you know,” the man said with a cocky smile.

he was right, you were caught at least four times in the short time you were on board. it’s not your fault though, it was the way his muscles flexed lifting his suitcase. it’s his fault he looked so hot chewing on his nails while scrolling through his phone. and when he sat down, tying his hair back with golden brown arms. you watched his fingers lazily loop his chestnut hair into a messy bun. it was embarrassing you found this so attractive, but again it’s not your fault.

“hmm you can’t even answer huh?” he said, taking a step closer.

you played out the scenario in your head on how this should continue, but before you settled on a conclusion, he lunged at you. it probably should’ve been scarier to anyone else but his manner was too intriguing. he swiftly pinned your wrists to the wall, trapping you. his hand snuck behind your lower back hugging your hips.

“eren,” he purred in the shell of your ear.

his voice echoed in your mind, erasing all worry or fear. he had such a calming tone, it was almost addicting.

“e-eren,” you slowly repeated to him.

“sounds so good rolling off your tongue,” eren said pulling back to look at you..

you had seen his eyes from afar, but they were so much more beautiful up close like this. the emerald glow of them shone into you, his dark pupils stamping the middle. they were the kind you could easily get lost in if you weren’t careful. you could only imagine how stupid you looked, slouching on a bathroom wall with your wrists pinned over your head.

eren chuckled, watching your eyes dart around the features of his face. you froze, seeing him lean in, nose touched yours.

“what do you want and be quick, this is a public restroom,” you felt his breath fan your chin.

without saying anything, you quickly closed the distance between you two, abandoned all logic.

reciprocating your response, eren rolled his body on you, hands never leaving your wrists. his other hand kept a strong grip on your back, holding you to his chest. eren’s abs grazed your stomach through the thin gray shirt he wore.

his hand roamed, squeezing and kneading the fat of your ass. eren heard a small moan leave your lips, knowing he was doing something right. your hips grinded hesistantly against his crotch in the little space you had. a low groan reverberated in his throat from the slight friction.

eren’s thumb hooked onto the waistband of your shorts, peeling them down your legs. you pushed the thought of them falling on the filthy floor, bringing your mentality back to him.

kisses traced down your neck to the part of your collarbone left exposed. little nips and pecks scattered along the trail, tingling your soft skin. airy sighs left you as teeth indents marked his way down. your body heat rose more at eren’s touch, countering the plane freezing air. eren’s fingers snuck down, tracing his index finger on the damp spot of your underwear. the feeling of him rubbing light circles on your clothed clit made you gasp from the pressure.

“that feels good huh,” he said in more of a statement than a question.

you only hummed in response, your mind starting to blur. grinning up at you, eren slid the bottoms of your underwear to the side, out of the way. you heard a sharp hiss as he massaged your plush thigh with one hand. you shivered from the air on your exposed cunt, but eren’s palm cupped your pussy, warming you. wasting no time, he swiftly buried his face between your legs. your back snapped into an arch as eren’s slick tongue licked as deep as he could, his sharp nose tickling your clit.

the sensation of his mouth sucking and devouring every part of you, built your orgasm quicker than he liked. a light blow of air on your slick folds, sent goosebumps up your arms as you ran your fingers through his silky hair.

“i think ‘m gonna c-cum eren please don’t stop,” you choked on your words, eyes squeezed shut.

sliding his wet tongue along your slit one last time, your pleas were completely ignored. standing up, eren loomed over you, holding your cheeks.

“not yet babe,” he teased, amused at your desperate expression.

eren smiled at your frustrated whines, eyes brimming with tears from the loss of his touch. maintaining eye contact, he leaned in as you fiddled with the buckle of his jeans. a bittersweet taste filled your mouth, his tongue spreading it over your inner cheeks. finally undoing the belt of his pants, you let them drop to the floor. stroking eren’s hard cock in your hand, you held the tip to your entrance looking up at him for consent. he ignored your ask without warning, harshly bucked his hips, splitting your walls open. eren didn’t give you any time for preparation, pulling out and slamming back up into you. your eyes dramatically rolled back feeling him hit every sensitive spot you had. your body rocked up and down against the wall as eren’s quick and sporadic thrusts consumed your senses, breathy moans bouncing around the room.

“we’ll get in trouble if you’re too loud, and you don’t want that do you,” he hissed into the back of your head.

not giving you an opportunity to respond, eren smoothly flipped your body so your back pressed to his chest.

“now be quiet while i fuck you,” he seethed, calloused hand covering your mouth.

steadying yourself on the wall in front of you, eren’s free hand lifted your shirt, tracing your stomach. high pitched whines were muffled as he groped your tit, the sensitivity sending a shock through your body. eren slowed his pace, reveling in the way his hips squished your ass each time he reached his hilt. momentarily lost at the sight of his cock disappearing and reappearing in your sopping cunt, eren noticed the whimpers and moans that once filled the room had quieted. despite what he said, eren did want you to be loud for him.

he returned to you, rolling and pinching the swollen bud of your nipple to create more stimulation. eren loosened the grip he had on your face, allowing the sounds of your cries to cloud his mind. your walls clenched around him pounding your abused cunt. eren’s heavy grunts entering your ear, muting everything around you leaving nothing but him. his already erratic breathing hitched in his throat, only seconds away from cumming in you.

“‘m god fuck~,” eren’s curses melted your brain to mush.

he never slowed down as thick, white cum shot deep, painting your insides. eren pressed his chest to your back nuzzling his chin in the crook of your neck. he continued slow, lazy strokes feeling your walls flutter around him. his quiet moans from overstimulation fogged your senses to the point you didn’t even register your orgasm. eren held your body close to him letting you ride out your high.

leaning back, eren admired the way his cum seeped out of your hole mixing with yours. he followed the drips traveling down your inner thighs thoroughly satisfied. he only let go when your breathing had calmed, letting you stand up straight. you turned around to rest on the seat, watching eren readjust his pants. planting your feet, you tried doing the same but unsuccessfully lost balance, toppling over. eren caught you before you fell, redressing you himself. taking a long look at you, little baby hairs stuck to your forehead that was glistening with sweat, the rest of your face a burning red. you looked perfect like this, and it was all because of him. but eren knew he would never see you again so he spun around, unlocking the folding door.

“let’s go, there are people waiting,” eren smirked, glancing over his shoulder at your figure one last time.

#eren brainrot #eren yaeger x reader #eren yaeger smut #aot smut #eren smut #eren x reader #aot x reader #eren yeager #snk smut

[some-kindofgnome]

Kinktober #24: Mine: Katsuki Bakugou

On the way home from a night out with Bakugou, you realize that things may not have gone as smoothly as you’d hoped. 

Characters: Katsuki Bakugou x f!Reader

Warnings: smut (18+ please!) aged-up characters, jealous!bakugou, rough sex, rough oral sex (both m and f-receiving), cum swallowing, marathon fucking, spanking, choking if you squint, a little aftercare

Notes: This is f i l t h y. And kind of brutal, to be honest. But if anyone’s going to be an absolute animal in bed, it’s Bakugou when he’s feeling jealous. 

It’s a little more proofread than usual. And kind of on the longish side (~3.5k), so strap in.

You’re welcome? I think? 

Kinktober Masterlist

It’s not until you’re halfway home that you realize something’s up.

Another Friday night, another agency gala. Bakugou hates black tie until you remind him how good he looks in a suit, and he loves to see you in those body-hugging silk dresses as often as possible, so he’s usually happy to suck it up for the occasion.

He’s such a misanthrope that you weren’t even surprised when he tugged you out of there in a hurry, whisking you into the car and driving off in sullen silence.

You’ve been trying to make conversation all the way home- it was nice to see Denki again, I hear Kiri’s teaching at UA these days, did you know Iida’s going back for his Master’s degree- but every time you mention a name from his past, Bakugou’s shoulders draw up tighter around his ears.

Fair enough.

You keep the radio low and distract yourself with the passing downtown lights. You feign serenity, but inside your mind is coming to pieces. If Bakugou’s annoyed at something- comically, playfully, extravagantly annoyed- he’s got road rage like nothing you’ve ever seen. But tonight, he pulls silently up to each red light. Jaw set. Crimson eyes steady on the road.

Something’s really up with him tonight.

He turns smoothly into your underground garage, pulling the car into his parking spot and killing the engine. He shoots you one smouldering, solid glare, then gets out of the car and slams the door nearly hard enough to dent it.

“Baby?” Your voice is tiny as it echoes across the concrete garage, and you shuffle to catch up with him in your narrow skirt and heels. As he pushes open the heavy glass door and you follow him into the elevator bay, your patience narrows.

“Okay,” you sigh, folding your arms over your chest. “You’ve had your time to pout. You’ve made it clear, you’re mad at me. So, are you going to tell me what I did, or do I have to figure that part out for myself?”

The doors roll open. Bakugou grabs your wrist.

He tugs you into the elevator and slams you against the wall so fast you see spots in the bright fluorescent lights over your head. Before you can even process the change in his character, he’s pressed his whole torso along yours, pinning you to the cool granite wall and crushing his mouth on yours.

You kind of hate how into it you are.

You let him kiss you for a minute, but you’re not backing down from this fight. Bakugou’s never been good at communication. You’re working on it. There’s no way you’re letting this one slide.

“Katsuki,” you bark, jerking your face harshly to one side and planting your hands on his shoulders. He gives a vicious snarl, but he’s not forcing you to kiss him.

“Stop it,” you hiss. “If something’s wrong, tell me.”

“You mean you really haven’t figured it out by now?” His voice is low and gravelly and edged by wildness. It’s clear he’s been barely holding on to his temper all the way home.

“No. I haven’t.” The elevator starts to move. It’s a tall building- and it’s a long way up to the penthouse.

“Course you didn’t,” he grunts, still pinning you hard. He draws his mouth along the edge of your jaw. “Shoulda known you wouldn’t notice the way they were all lookin’ at you.”

“Who?”

His temper cracks again and he snarls, shoving you more firmly against the wall again. One hand slides up your chest and his fingers grip tightly at your shoulder, teasing at the hollow of your throat.

Oh.

So it’s gonna be like that.

“Everyone,” he hisses. “Kirishima. Denki. Everyone. You wore that tight little fuckin’ dress and they couldn’t keep their eyes off you.”

“Katsuki,” you croon low and smooth, even though you know you’re gonna regret it. “don’t tell me you’re jealous.”

The palm that teased at your throat closes around it now, using its gentle grip to push your head against the wall. He knows exactly how hard to squeeze to get a rise out of you. And he squeezes.

“Don’t.”

He’s warning you, but you’re too relieved to know that you never actually did anything wrong. This is just another one of Bakugou’s temper tantrums that you’re going to benefit from.

“You are,” you hiss, grinning wider. “Jealous of your old classmates? C’mon, baby, you know better than that.”

“Shut up.”

His mouth covers yours again. His thumb brushes over the flutter of your pulse point as he licks into your mouth, biting down hard and sucking at your lower lip.

The elevator chimes. Before the doors can roll open, he stoops and grabs you by the thighs. He slings you over his shoulder and straightens easily, delivering a harsh slap to your ass.

“Katsuki!” You squirm over his shoulder, beating at the back of his coat as your face goes hot. There are two apartments on this floor, and the chances that one of your very respectable neighbours is standing in the hallway aren’t zero.

Smack.

Another blow, to the other cheek this time, and you go still.

“Quit strugglin’,” Bakugou barks, “or I’ll drop you on your head.”

He shifts your weight easily into one arm, digging into his pants pocket and producing his key. Deftly, he unlocks the door to your condo and pushes it in with his shoulder. As soon as he kicks the door shut behind him, he sets you on your feet.

Before you can scold him for your burning cheeks, he shoves both hands under the edges of your coat, wedging it off your shoulders.

“C’mere,” he snarls. He slides one hand down your back, between the wool and the silk, and palms the swell of your ass. Your coat hits the floor in a swath of black tweed and then he’s stooping again to pick you up, forcing your thighs apart around his hips. The smirk that decorates his features is vicious. His cheeks have gone pink.

You’re a sucker for him when he gets like this.

“Listen to me.” He sets you on the kitchen counter and steps up between your thighs, shoving your long skirt up and sideways around its high slit. “I am not. Jealous. But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re fuckin’ mine, okay?”

“You’d think the fact that we’re-hmmmph.”

He kisses you again before you get to finish your sentence, then rips himself from your lips. He tugs your body closer by the hips and buries his face in the crook of your shoulder, nipping and sucking hard at the skin there in his best attempt at leaving a mark. All the while, his fingers fumble with the straps on your dress, slipping them off your shoulders.

He wraps his hands in the silk bodice and tugs. Hard. One of the straps snaps over your upper arm as he shoves your dress down around your waist, exposing your chest.

“Baby,” you whine, but you know he’ll make it up to you later.

“All fuckin’ mine,” he growls again, slipping his rough palms over your breasts and squeezing them together. “Gonna make you feel it, sweetness.”

He attacks your collarbones and breasts, leaving mark after mark as his teeth and tongue lave over your skin. When he’s had enough, he gets down on his knees in front of the counter and curls his fingers into your underwear, tearing it clean off your body.

“Katsuki!” You grab him by the top of the head, attempting to push him away by his hair.

“You shouldn’t wear such flimsy shit, if you don’t want me to break it,” he chuckles, already biting up the inside of your thigh.

“Tell me,” he mumbles, tugging you right to the edge of the counter and bracing your thighs in both hands. “Can Shitty Hair make you scream like this?”

He dives into your pussy, plunging his tongue straight into your tight heat and making you shudder and moan. You can’t help but bend to his whim- he knows your body better than his own, and he’s not shy about showing it off.

Bakugou’s desperate, tongue-fucking you with reckless abandon. He swirls messy saliva around the tender nub of your already-swollen clit. Sometimes he’s patient, working you to the edge slowly, but tonight he forces pleasure into you, brutal and unrelenting.

You live for it.

“Katsuki,” you whine, raking your fingers through his unruly hair, “baby, please, oh, fuck!”

Your first orgasm hits you mercilessly, and you cum with a deep cry of pleasure as your heels draw up his back. You’re still wearing your shoes- pretty, strappy sandals that drive him crazy. Even crazier, when they’re digging into his flesh like they are now.

“That’s it,” he growls, drawing back from you all slicked-up and wild-eyed. His lips are flushed deep from gorging himself on you, and he wipes the back of his mouth with a silk shirtsleeve as he gets to his feet, shrugging impatiently out of his suit jacket.

“God, fuck,” you sigh. You reach for him, but he grabs you again, lifting you onto his hips. This time he’s hard, and you can feel it twitching against the inside of your thigh, heated and ready.

“I’m not finished with you yet.”

This time, he makes it as far as the sofa before he flops into the cushions, dragging you into his lap. You straddle him eagerly and lean forward against his chest, the fabric of your dress still bunching around your waist and hips. You grab him by the jaw and kiss away the lingering remnants of your lipstick while he palms your ass and grinds the stiff, pressed wool of his crotch and his straining cock shamelessly against you.

For an instant, you sense control. And he lets you enjoy it. Slowly he lifts his hands to your back, smoothing the fabric of your dress with one palm so he can grasp its zipper and slide it open with the other.

As soon as he breaks from your mouth to lift the fabric over your head, you know what you want to do with your reins.

“Where’r you goin’?” He scolds, watching you draw back from his lap. His crimson gaze is clouded with lust. But his jaw is still tight, frustration licking at his body like flames.

“Not far.”

You drop to your knees in front of him. Tug his shirt roughly out of his pants and slide your fingers underneath it to find his fly.

He chuckles, low and feral, smoothing a hand through what’s left of your hairstyle for the night.

“That’s my girl,” he chides. “Show me who you belong to.”

The prospect strikes a nerve of want somewhere deep inside you. You dig your hands into the folds of his undershorts, wrapping your hands around the hot silk of his erection and pulling it into the open.

It’s impossible for you to pretend that Bakugou doesn’t have the most perfect dick you’ve ever seen. When he’s hard like this, it’s pink and flushed and drooling slick precum. It’s thick and soft and curving up toward his belly. It’s like he’s made for you. You fit together like the two halves of a lock. Sculpted for each other, molded out of one another.

And he loves it when you suck him off.

You give the tip of his twitching cock a bare little lick and his fingers twist, tightening threateningly in your hair.

“Don’t tease me, sweetness,” he snarls, “or I’ll make you choke on it.”

He’s probably going to do that anyway.

You brace your hands on his thighs and straighten up, sucking his tender tip into your mouth. You lave your tongue over it, and he bristles, watching you carefully with a tight-lipped groan.

It’s not long before you settle into a rhythm, sucking him down messily while your right hand picks up the slack. He’s grabbing you by the hair and staying tense. His thighs are rock hard on either side of you.

You take him into your throat and stay there, and he breaks.

“Aw, fuck,” he growls. His head falls back and he grabs your head with his other hand, too. His hips buck into your throat and you gag, spitting messily around his shaft as he starts to fuck your throat in earnest.

The sounds that erupt from the both of you are obscene. You’re drooling all over his suit pants, but his control is nowhere to be found. And when you grab his balls and squeeze his spine goes concave. He throws his head back. He howls.

“Fuck!” His hips stutter hard, but he doesn’t stop. Neither do you.

“Aw, fuck, sweetness,” he growls. “Fuck. Fuck. Look at you, chokin’ on my dick. Look at you, taking it so fuckin’ good. I’m gonna cum so fuckin’ hard down your throat. I’m gonna make you taste me, baby, so close. Fuck, oh, fuck, oh-“

His babbling ceases as the spring in his body is released. It’s like all his nerves go inside out for a second. You grab his thighs as hard as you can and squeeze while he ruts into your face and pumps his load right down your throat.

When he’s finished, you draw your mouth carefully from his twitching dick. You half-expect to see him sprawled across the couch completely spent, but before you can even get a look at his face, he grabs you all over again. His voice is sandpaper in your ear.

“’M takin’ you to bed. Now.”

You’re already tender, but you’re ready for more. You live for this; when he gets too wild to speak, too crazy to stop. Testing the limits of your stamina is something that will never get boring.

Especially not when you’ve got Bakugou on the other end.

He lays you down against the pillows and flips you onto your belly.

“Stay put.”

He steps back, shucking himself out of his pants and undershorts. He practically tears away his shirt and tie. He doesn’t come back to you until he’s naked. When he does, he drags you up onto your knees and keeps your face pushed into the pillows.

“There you go,” he mutters. “So fuckin’ sweet for me, baby. I’m gonna fuck you so good, you know that? Gonna fuck you so good they’ll hear you screamin’ back at the party.”

You’re gonna have to ask Kirishima to look at you like that more often.

He bends behind you and seals his mouth over your pussy, laving his tongue over your folds again. His shoulder bobs against your ass and you can tell he’s stroking himself- encouraging his spent flesh to rise to the occasion.

The taste of you always spurs him on.

When he’s ready, he pulls abruptly away and lines the tip of his cock up with your slick folds. He grabs the curve of your ass hard with one hand. Gives it a hard smack. It’s already stinging from his rough treatment earlier, but you’re sure he’s not finished with it.

“You gonna tell me who you belong to?” He taps the tip of his cock against your clit, teasing you with the heated flesh. You want it so bad by now that it aches, and you turn your head to gasp for breath as you grip hard at the sheets.

“I never belonged to anyone else,” you plead softly. He doesn’t like that answer and punctuates his disappointment with another hard slap to your ass. He draws a cry from you. You’re starting to lose yourself.

“Try again.”

“Please,” you sob, wiggling your hips against his. He leans back, keeping himself from you.

“Who. Do you. Belong. To?”

“You.”

The answer clicks as your need grows to unbearable levels. You say it like a prayer. Like a plea for mercy.

Bakugou delivers.

“That’s right. You’re mine, sweetness. You hear me? Mine. All mine.”

He sinks into you on the last syllable and his voice turns to jelly. His thighs are strong and firm as they bump against yours. He bottoms out. Gives you a breath to adjust to the stretch.

Then he fucks. Hard.

He grabs you by the hips and slams himself deep into your pussy, quickly settling into a brutal rhythm that leaves his thighs slapping hard against the curve of your ass. He punctuates every other stroke with a hard smack to your ass, too, leaving you raw and stinging.

It’s good. It’s so good this way. He bends over to bring his chest close to yours as he fucks you hard and fast, growling possessively in your ear. He snatches you by the hair when you try to lift your head, shoving your face back into the pillows and muffling your deep cries of pleasure.

Every hard thrust of his cock seems to reverberate through your entire body. At this angle, his tip nudges your cervix like a panic button. It sends shockwaves of pleasure over every nerve.

“That’s right,” he’s still babbling above you, breathless and panting, but forcing the words out anyway. “That’s right, sweetness, you’re fuckin’ mine. Nobody does this to you but me, baby, nobody. Gonna fuck you ‘till you scream. Gonna fuck you till you beg me to stop. Gonna fill you with so much of my fuckin’ cum, you’ll never forget who you belong to.”

Your climax draws closer by the moment. You’re trying to warn him, but he’s got you pinned fast. The pleasure looms inevitably over you, and you can’t stop the crest of the wave before it crashes over your trembling form.

You cum hard around him, your muscles squeezing and fluttering around his pounding cock. He gives a shout of surprise and fucks you double-time through your climax. As your high retreats he finds his, sliding an arm around your hips and sliding balls-deep before pleasure erupts along his spine and he pumps you full of slick cum.

When it’s over, he flips you onto your back. He pushes his cock inside you again despite your soft whines of sensation, pumping slowly in and out of you and watching the way his cum spills over as he fills you all over again.

“You got one more in you?” He pants.

“Baby,” you plead, overstimulated and spent. He slides his hands up your ribcage, thumbing your tight nipples.

“C’mon, sweetness. You can handle it. I know you got it in you.”

“One more,” you pant. You stretch your cramping legs out around his hips, toeing each one of your heels off behind you. He slides his palms all the way up your shoulders and down your arms, finding your wrists and pinning them tightly over your head.

“God damn,” he grunts, looking you over. Marred with the marks his teeth printed across your skin. Mottled with bruises already forming on your hips, your thighs, your throat.

“Look at you,” he purrs. He shifts your wrists into one hand and strokes the fingertips of his other over the bruises on your throat. He grins wickedly.

“Better make those worth your while.”

His palm lowers against your throat as his hips pick up speed again. He fucks you hard into the mattress beneath you. The ache in your hips is exacerbated by the sudden friction, but it’s cooled by the warm slick of his cum inside you.

Neither of you last long this time.

Your third orgasm of the night is tight and desperate, and you come down from your high shaking and straining against his hold.

“Not gonna… can’t hold on,” he warns. “Fuck, sweetness, fuck, baby, fuuuuuck-“

He collapses onto you as he cums, burying his hips into the apex of your thighs and pushing another fresh load into your belly. His cock stirs inside you as he shudders and finally goes soft against you. Spent at long last.

When he pulls his softening dick from your body, you’re well past overstimulated.

He’s fucked his temper out on you.

“Alright,” he rasps. “You’re okay, sweetness. C’mere.”

He rolls onto his side and settles a hand over your belly, rubbing slow and gentle as he peppers kisses along your shoulder. He gives your hand a squeeze and rolls out of bed, snagging his undershorts from the floor and climbing into them.

He goes quiet, when it’s time to take care of you. Sometimes you wonder if he feels guilty about using you like this. But you’ve talked about it. You stop him when you’ve had enough. You’re good at that.

He likes that you’re not afraid to stand up to him.

Bakugou wraps you in a blanket from the bed and carries you out to the living room, depositing you on the couch. He can keep an eye on you easily as he heads to the kitchen to get you a drink. It’s important to you that he stays close when you need him like this.

He kneels in front of you and slips his fingers under your heavy chin.

“Here we go, baby. C’mon. Drink it.”

He tilts a glass of cool tap water against your lips and you raise a hand to steady it, drinking down a few, steady gulps. You’re heavy and sex-drunk and sleepy, warming his bitter heart with the expressions that cross your hazy face.

“That’s it.”

He slides beneath you and pulls you-blanket and all- into his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around you. Cradling your body with his. He leans down and settles his forehead over yours. His eyelashes brush your cheek. He lets out a deep, heavy sigh.

“You’re mine,” he mumbles to you, but it takes on a different meaning altogether when he says it like this. You’re mine, he’s telling you, and I’m gonna take care of you.

He finds your hand and brushes his thumb over the diamond ring that rests there. In truth, that’s all the proof he needs that you’ve signed up for him.

All of him.

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