essentially nothing

but whore-knee reblogs that i can't do on my main. 27

[kendymaycry]

when you’re whining and about how deep his cock is and each thrust is practically knocking the wind out of you yet somehow he can find more space to go even deeper plunging so deep inside of you that it really does steal your breath completely

[larkspurhoney]

Men who take off your shoes, carefully peel your sheer tights to massage and kiss the arch of your foot before resting your legs on their shoulder and burying their face on your pussy vs. Men who toss you face down, ass up, and tear up a hoke in your tights so they can eat you out from the back through it

[babykitten207]

Okay but Praise sex is so cute like “my pretty girl” whenever you make eye contact “you’re taking me in so well” when they first thrust into you, soft kiss every once in while

[coraes]

i want him to moan when i bite him

[introloves]

everyone may have moved on but im still thinking about the fact that aone is so so prone to put you in the meanest full nelson. he justifies it with knowing how prone you are to grab at him when hes making you take a cock that too thick, and almost too long- he doesnt want you to hurt those precious hands of yours. the ones he loves to kiss every day right before leaving for work, and right after coming home to you.

justified, because he knows if he truly admits it- he knows what it would look like if he admits that seeing you helpless, suspended by nothing more than the rocking of his hips. thighs catching all you drip down onto him, almost limp while bulging thick arms and biceps keep you up might be too shameless for someone like him.

[sugarwarachan]

shinsou hitoshi x f!reader x monoma neito - smut, pussy eating, degradation, sharing is caring

shinsou clocking the way monoma checks you out and the way you return his over-the-top flirting, so after patrol one night he tosses you his phone and hitches your thighs over his shoulders, sucking on your pussy lips through your underwear.

"call him."

you can barely fucking think. "wha-? who?"

he pulls his head up, smirking. "who do you wanna call, princess?"

monoma's face flashes in your head and your faces goes hot.

"he won't think it's weird?"

your boyfriend's too busy slurping at your clothed cunt to answer, but he pulls away with a smack when you yank on his hair.

"i see how he looks at you." he places a soft kiss on your inner thigh. "besides, you like being talked through it - and monoma's the chattiest motherfucker i know."

his teeth sink into the soft meat of your leg, dancing on the edge of pain. "don't forget to put him on speaker."

you press call as shinsou's lifting up your hips to pull down your underwear. your voice hitches, and monoma's teasing tone filters through.

"need saving, nighthide?"

shinsou chooses then to slurp your clit into his mouth.

"fuck - " you gasp out, legs instinctively clamping around his head. he holds you open with a forearm, eyes stern.

"y/n?" monoma sounds strained. "are you okay?"

"yes - " shinsou's darting his tongue in and out, fingers teasing through your folds - "i'm fine. 'toshi said - " he slides a finger inside and your eyes slam shut. you have to gulp down a breath, hear monoma suck in air on the other end. "he said you'd help. that you'd talk to me."

you're panting, face on fire with embarrassment and desire. your stomach dips when monoma chuckles, low and a little off-kilter, like he can't believe his good fortune. you can picture his eyes lighting up, triumphant smile etched on his face.

"oh?" he purrs. "does that idiot not know the right things to say to you?"

you feel shinsou shake his head in good-natured disbelief before he flips you over so he can eat you out from the back.

"so you can talk to him all by yourself, sweetheart," he says, pressing a gentle kiss to the seam between your hip and thigh. "really put on a show for the bastard."

"nei, be nice - " you breathe out, ass thrusting back into hitoshi's chin, his nose bumping under your clit.

(monoma's at home, cheeks flushed, pants pushed to his knees, straining to keep himself from jerking too hard into his fist and ending this before it even starts)

"you want me to be nice? i can hear how wet you are already, you little slut."

you moan, unbidden, the degradation like electricity on your skin.

"that all you can say?" he coos, but you already hear the telltale sound of slick hands slapping up and down, and it sends arousal thrumming through you. "pussy doing all the thinking for you? bet she's gorgeous, all puffy and swollen and begging me to put my dick inside her. you think your boyfriend'll let me fuck you, pretty?"

shinsou plugs two fingers into you, curving them up toward your pelvis, his thumb teasing the puckered skin of your asshole.

"oh god fuck - " pleasure coils low in your belly, your breath ragged in monoma's ear.

"that's not an answer," he taunts. "if you're this fucked out while getting your cunt licked, can't imagine you'd be able to handle me."

"fuck you, you little prick," you whine out, fingernails gripping the phone so hard you fear it'll crack. "stop making me like this."

his laugh is wild in delight. "you get too much of the angel princess treatment from 'toshi don't you?" he sing-songs your boyfriend's name; shinsou's hand clamps down possessively on your leg, but he says nothing.

(he's trying not to bust a nut, your pussy juices dripping down his chin)

monoma's not done talking, too busy stroking his cock to really think through what's falling from his lips. "but you like being a dirty little whore for me. i can hear it in your voice every time you take a breath. your legs must be shakin', huh baby? poor thing - too bad i'm not there to keep you steady."

you're so close, eyes crossing up in your skull. you're barely able to keep yourself upright on the bed.

"nei - "

"don't fucking say my name like that," he grits out. "i need you to cum before you say my name like that - - can you do that for me? let it all out, baby, let me hear it. let me hear you."

your orgasm robs you of sound, curling tight and low in your belly, the pressure a sure indication that you're about to squirt all over 'toshi's face -

(calling monoma becomes a regular occurrence after this)

2025 © all works belong to me, @sugarwarachan! do not repost, translate, or steal any of my works. interaction, reblogs, and comments are appreciated and encouraged <3

taglist <3 @cielito--lindo, @one-scarred-mofo, @uekarashi, @waterfal-ling, @iluvikeu, @bach-ira, @yelikballs

[sugarwarachan]

addicted to you

summary: Kirishima Eijiro's pretty positive he’s going to hell. You can’t listen to your buddy’s girlfriend cum that many times and not be on a one-way ticket to the fiery pits of doom. When he's at the end of his rope, one night might change the dynamic of his relationship with you. pairing: bakugou x reader x kirishima wc: 1.6k content warnings: smut mdni, threesome dynamics, fem!reader, dirty talk, degradation, voyeurism, oral, m!receiving, kirishima's raging size kink

Plap plap plap -

"Oh god, Kats..."

It should be fucking illegal for walls to be this thin, Kirishima thinks, staring up at his ceiling, willing his dick to soften. This is the fifth night in a row that he’s heard your guts getting rearranged by his best friend, and it’s starting to take a toll on the pro hero.

“Yeah, baby? Too much for ya?”

A soft groan emits from Kirishima’s throat at the high-pitched whine you make in response.

It’s not gentlemanly of him at all, but he pictures how gorgeous your face must look right now, mouth hanging open, eyes rolled up in your head—

"Not enough," he hears you shoot back.

He slams the pillow over his face and rolls onto his belly, rutting his dick across the mattress in one long drag.

Fuck.

When he first heard you two have sex, he really tried to do the respectable thing and not listen, he swears. When noise-canceling headphones didn't cut it, he went on long walks the minute you and Bakugou disappeared behind closed doors. It’s made for some very awkward late-night convenience store runs.

He lifts the pillow from his face. No noises sound from next door. He sighs. Time to address the raging cockstand in his pants, then.

The fantasy he conjures is familiar, well-worn. He starts in the middle this time, at the part where you’re already gagging on his dick, eyes welling with tears as be bullies his cock down your throat.

Kirishima grabs the lube from his nightstand and coats his palm. His hips buck into his hand as he works himself up and down, idly wondering how much of him you'd be able to take. He hates it, but the thought of your face scrunching up as you struggle to fit him all the way in shreds his sanity to ribbons.

"Kiri?" your voice sounds through the door while his hand is mid-stroke on his cock.

It’s like he summoned you.

"Yeah?" Even that minor syllable sounds like he’s fucking drugged.

"Can I come in please?"

His eyes bug out of his head. Are you fucking serious?

"Just a minute!" he shouts, shucking up his sweatpants and toweling off the mess between his thighs.

He hears Bakugou’s voice next. "Just let us in, idiot, she’s gotta ask you something."

Shit.

Shit shit shit shit—

He’s gonna die tonight. You’re probably outside thinking he’s a digusting pervert, in here fucking jerking off to you—what was he thinking?

Apparently not even the panic can make his dick cooperate though. He tucks it into the waistband of his pants and prays for a swift end.

When he opens the door, he expects to dodge a punch. But you’re standing there in a see-through red teddy, and all semblance of thought goes out the window.

“Did you finally hear me this time, Kiri?”

Huh?

He’s pretty sure he just splutters. Bakugou barks out a laugh behind you. "Told you this dummy was in denial, pretty girl."

His brain stumbles. "You wanted me to hear?"

You let out a husky giggle that goes straight to his groin. If possible, he gets harder.

"I like how you watch me, Kiri," you admit, eyes darting to his lips. His mouth goes dry. "I keep thinking about how you’d touch me."

He balls his hands into fists at his side to keep from hauling you onto his bed. "This is something you two have talked about?"

Bakugou has the audacity to look annoyed. "Doesn’t take a fuckin’ genius to figure it out. You’re always starin’ at her. Besides," he runs a hand straight down your back; you shiver and lean back into him. "Can’t deny this sweet thing much."

The good thing about being a pro hero is that you learn to adapt to situations quickly. Kirishima's brain is spinning with this new information, but he’s reacting before he realizes it, hand reaching out for your waist.

Your nipples tighten—he wants his tongue on them, sucking through the lace. He looks to Bakugou, but the man’s just sauntering into the room, settling into the desk chair with his legs kicked out, gray sweatpants tented.

“Go on, then.” He palms his cock. “Make her feel good like you’ve been wanting.”

Kirishima doesn’t need to be told twice. He picks you up and arranges you both on the bed, your thighs draped over his hips. You’re soaking wet; he can feel the slick dripping from your pussy fall on his stomach.

He’s so hard it hurts.

You’re not much better off, whimpering and rutting in his lap like a bitch in heat.

"Touch me, Kiri, please," you say, nosing at his neck and sucking on his pulse point. "Need your big hands on me."

God, you even beg cute.

His hands span up your back, pressing your tits into his chest and capturing your lips in a searing kiss. You groan into his mouth, hands tangling in his hair, tugging at the strands.

"Wild little thing, aren’t you, baby?" Kirishima chuckles when you glare at him. "No judgment here, I fucking love it. Been listenin' to you long enough to have an idea of how you like it."

He looks over at Bakugou. "You just gonna watch?"

"Gotta make sure you do it right, Shitty-hair," he grits out, fist moving up and down. “Ya already need me to step in?”

Kirishima laughs under his breath. "Fuck you too, asshole." He cradles your face in one hand, tilting your lips up to his. "Come here, princess, let me see how hard I can make you cum, huh? Harder than he does?"

One breath against your clit and you’d probably scream for him right now. He can't help but puff out his chest a little at the thought.

Clothing comes off in a flurry. Every inch of skin exposed is a fucking godsend, more for him to touch, to caress.

When his cock bobs in between your bodies, he swears your mouth goes slack.

"Oh, Kiri," you breathe out, wrapping your hands around him. "You didn’t tell me you had such a pretty dick.” He chokes and rolls his hips into your fist. "You’re big, too. I don’t know if you’ll fit all the way."

He grunts. "Fuck baby, you can’t say shit like that to me, drives me fuckin’ crazy—"

The smile you give him is sinful. "I know." You shut him up by undulating your hips, sliding your pussy folds along the head of his cock.

"She's a little brat, Kiri, don't be afraid to put her in her place," Kirishima hears Bakugou say in the background. His voice is strained, husky. Both of you moan at the sound.

"Is that right, princess?" He nips at your mouth. "You think I'll give you whatever you want?"

You nod, the sweetest whine falling from your lips as he starts to inch his dick inside your quivering hole. You're so tight it's like your pussy can't decide if it wants to suck him in or spit it out.

"Stay fucking still," he growls, hold fast and hard on your hips. You squeal at his tone, gasping as he stretches you open, working the tip in and out.

Your hands scrabble at the sheets, his forearms, anything. He just holds you in place as your cunt gets sloppier and sloppier, lewd squelching noises filling the room.

"Kiri please just fuck me. Please, I've been thinking about it for weeks now—"

Bakugou kneels on the side of the mattress.

"You're mouthy tonight, baby. All because you're showing off for him?" He taps the side of your mouth. "Let's put that mouth to better use, yeah?"

If Kirishima wasn't about to bust his load, he sure as fuck is now, watching you greedily suck his best friend's dick as he works his into your sopping wet core.

When he finally bottoms out, the sound you make is pornographic, throat stuffed up with dick, humming out your pleasure...

"God that's so fucking hot, baby, look at you." He sets a rough, steady pace. Your tits bounce as your throat works to take Bakugou. Drool trickles down your chin; he wipes it away and squeezes your neck. It's driving him crazy, watching your tongue and lips work in tandem. "Takin' dick so well, there's a good girl."

Bakugou has a tight grip on the headboard, veins straining in his neck.

"Fuckin' hell, I'm close. Pinch her clit, Eiji, that'll make her cum quick. Get her there for me, let me see her fuckin' scream."

Kirishima rolls your bud between his fingers, and sure enough, your pussy starts clamping down on him. His rhythm gets erractic, wild. All he can think about is the sticky wet rush of slick between your legs, your channel milking his cock like you'd been waiting for weeks for it—

Bakugou slides out of your mouth with an obscene pop, spitting into his palm. "Dirty little slut, love getting used, don't ya?"

Kirishima keeps working your clit, dick jumping inside you. "There's our pretty girl, doing so well. Where do you want me to cum, honey? Can I cum here?"

He presses down on your tummy and pinches your clit at the same time. Slick gushes out of you.

"Cum in her, Kiri," he hears Bakugou bark out, hand speeding up. "I'll clean it up later, just wanna see you both cum with your dick in her."

It's embarassing, but that's really all he needs to hear before he's coming the hardest he ever has, cock twitching and pumping seed into you as Bakugou spends onto your tits.

Your own orgasm takes you over, bowing your back off the bed, mouth hanging open as incoherent babble falls from your lips. Kirishima fucks you through it, each small tremor of your subsequent orgasms like jolts of lightning.

He's pretty sure he knows the answer when he asks, "We get to do that again, right?"

You look at Bakugou, who just smirks. "Won't get rid of us that easily."

taglist: @luleck, @yesshayhere @grim-reapers-wife @dai-png @burgvndy

[makemescre4m]

not to be a pervert or anything but my favorite part about a threesome is ganging up on one person and just overstimulating them until they're a babbling mess of tears and moans and they can't make sense of anything. Teamwork makes the dream work truly

[anotherkinkycorvid]

@k1nky-r0b0t-g1rl

[k1nky-r0b0t-g1rl]

dkfjbndkjbnjdgfkn

>_<

[forriku-deactivated20260315]

older bf!nanami’s personal stress reliever ♡ ᵔ ´ 𖥦 ` ᵔ

being nanami’s young girlfriend means living the dream.

spoiled rotten in his fancy apartment, college tuition covered, every whim from clothes to gadgets handed over without a blink.

he’s older, steady, that corporate job keeping the cash flowing while he takes care of you like you’re his precious little thing. sure, the age gap turns heads, but fuck it. he fucks treats you better than any guys your age ever could.

you don’t really have to do anything but just be there for him. especially when he needs some stress relief after a long day at work.

... like tonight.

nanami got home from work around 10pm. you were waiting for him, as usual. you were already in your shared bedroom when he came home all pissy and exhausted.

... the next thing you knew is that you were getting dicked down like there’s no tomorrow.

“fuck.” nanami growls lowly, voice rough from the day. he’s fucking you so hard. your poor cunt stretches wide around his girth, tight walls fluttering helplessly everytime he bottoms out, cockhead kissing your cervix hard enough to make you sob.

“aaauughh— mmmghh kento!” you wail as he pounds you into the mattress, his hips snapping forward with punishing force, clapping your ass cheeks hard.

the wet squelch of your pussy taking him fills the room, slick and cum from earlier rounds already leaking out, making everything messier.

you’re face-down on the bed, biting the sheets hard, drool soaking the fabric as your eyes roll back, your screams muffled into the pillow. “mmnghh— kentooo! s’too deep—oh goood!”

his big hand cracks down on your ass— hard slap— then another, leaving red handprints while he yanks your hair back, arching your back sharper.

“you take what i give you, you hear me?” he grunts, free hand gripping your neck from the back to choke you just right, fingers pressing on your throat while he rails you from behind. pushing your face deeper into the sheets. “you don't get to run from this cock.”

you’re tapping frantically on his thick thigh, trying to signal you’re overwhelmed but he only fucks you harder, grinding deep, stirring the hot loads he already pumped into you earlier. making your legs shake. “keep clenching that pussy on me— yeah, just like that, fuck— good girl.”

your whole body shakes, pussy gushing around him and squirting messily onto the already soaked sheets as another orgasm rips through you. he doesn’t stop though, just keeps fucking into you, making you take every thick inch and you cant do anything but to lay there and take it like his personal fuck doll.

you’re gripping the sheets so hard that your knuckles turn white, your tongue lolling out like some dumb fucked slut, droolling so much. your brain is so mushy now that you can’t even form a proper sentence from how good he’s giving you that dick.

he gave you one hard particular thrust, pulls out and slapped your ass hard, making you yelp from the sharpness. and then he flips you over onto your back, manhandling your smaller frame like nothing. he shoved your legs up, folded you in half into a tight mating press— knees by your ears, pussy spread wide open for him. already gaping and clenching around nothing as if it already misses his dick.

he leans his full weight down, pinning you under his big beefy body and slams back in, his cock disappearing into your swollen, sopping cunt.

“look at it,” he orders, squeezing your cheeks hard, forcing your teary eyes to watch where his fat cock pistons in and out, coated in white creamy rings around the thick base. “watch how this pussy takes me— fuck, you’re so pretty stretched around my cock.”

you sob louder, your eyes locked onto his cock pounding your poor pussy while he fucks you senseless. “kentooo—! please haaahh mmnghh yes yes fuck me— oh shiiit!” tears stream down your cheeks, but you can’t look away, mesmerized by how deep he goes, how his abs flex with every brutal thrust.

“mmh, you love getting fucked like this, hm?” he rasps, voice low amd and rough, he grinds his hips before snapping it hard, stirring up your insides. “uh-huh? yeah, keep those eyes on me, i said.” he growls when you tried to look away.

you nod frantically. “yes yes... i love it— fuck me harder! s’good daddy...!” and he does. pounding you so rough the headboard bangs the wall, your body jolting with each hit.

he spits right on your tongue and you swallowed it eagerly then on your puffy clit, rubbing it in messy circles while he abuses your cunt, making you squirt again, soaking his pelvis.

“you’re my good girl, aren’t you, sweetheart?” he coos, choking you lightly again, thumb pressing your pulse. “just let me fuck you good, alright? take it all for daddy, yeah?”

you cum again, screaming his name loudly, your walls milking him tight until he groans deep, pumping another thick load straight into your womb, breeding you full until it overflows around his still pumping cock. dripping down your ass.

he collapses over you, breathing heavy, cock still twitching inside.

after a minute he pulls out slowly, watching the creamy mess leak from your gaping hole, then kisses your sweaty forehead soft.

“you okay? s-sorry, love. i got carried away," he mutters, voice quieter now. “was too rough”

you grin weakly. ”don't be... i love it when you fuck me like that.”

his eyes darken again, cock already hardening against your thigh. he spreads your legs open wider, tip nudging your oversensitive folds. and then slid in again, making you gasp.

“...fuck.”

i need to be dih down to death by this man i’m not even kidding

[whats-her-quirk]

Lover, You Should’ve Come Over

The two of you aren’t exactly quiet when you sneak off to the bathroom together at all hours, but Zoro has always been quick to turn the corner and walk away. Seeing is very different. There’s nothing left to imagine anymore. He knows exactly what it looks like now—the cook picking you apart, piece by piece, until you shatter.

roronoa zoro x reader x black leg sanji

rating: explicit, 18+

warnings: jealous zoro (who doesn’t quite understand his emotions), exhibitionism turned threesome, oral (female receiving), vaginal sex, fingering, hand jobs, slight belly bulge, cum play, praise, size kink, multiple orgasms, the boys kiss too, not quite gay panic just cook panic, welcome to the zosanwich

word count: 2.7k

welcome to the fantasy that has been keeping me going while sitting in my drafts for over a year

♪ lover, you should’ve come over by jeff buckley

divider by @/cafekitsune

You’re sitting in the cook’s lap again. The dirty plates from dinner are stacked up, everyone except your bottomless pit of a captain finished eating. As you lounge around the table to rest and chatter over drinks, you slide into his lap, one arm draped over his shoulder while his hand wanders your hip and waist.

Zoro doesn’t believe it. He doesn’t buy that in the weeks since you joined the crew, the shitty cook managed to not only catch your attention but actually seal the deal. What could you possibly see in him? When you got here, he was still chasing after Nami and Robin. Now that idiot’s so busy touching and kissing you that he hardly glances at anyone else.

It just can’t be real, Zoro thinks, even as he watches the cook pluck the cigarette out of his mouth so he can plant a kiss on your neck. You’re focused on something Chopper’s saying, so it catches you by surprise, making you giggle and tug at the front of his shirt. He steals another kiss from the corner of your jaw before taking a long, satisfied drag from his cigarette. Zoro stares, unnoticed, and feels his face getting hot.

He truly doesn’t believe it, and when the kitchen clears out, he pins the cook against the wall and tells him so.

“Did I forget something? Your midnight snack?” Even with Zoro’s forearm across his chest, the cook is smirking.

Despite his annoyance, Zoro keeps his voice down. “Tell me what’s really going on between you and our new crewmate.”

The cook blows smoke out of the corner of his mouth. He pushes Zoro’s arm away, but only because Zoro lets him. Now that he’s asked the question, Zoro knows the other man can’t simply walk away from it.

The cook takes the cigarette from his mouth and rolls it coyly between his fingers. “What’s there to tell? We’re together now, I thought that was obvious.”

“Give me a break. What would she want you for?”

“So you’re asking about the dirty details then?” he clicks his tongue, turning his back to leave. “And they call me a pervert.”

Zoro scoffs. “Don't expect me to believe you can please her. You couldn’t please anyone.”

The cook turns on his heel. His brow creased, he looks Zoro up and down at point blank range. “Really? I’ll prove it.”

Zoro is watching you again, this time from one of the plush chairs in the women’s quarters, pointed at the corner of your bed. Though he can hardly believe he agreed to this, he can’t leave now. You’re a feast for his eye, stripped bare and legs spread on your mattress, even if he has to look past the cook to see you.

Robin and Nami have been persuaded to take lookout duty together, and the door is locked, ensuring your privacy. Regardless, Zoro feels more like an intruder than a fly on the wall. He’s supposed to be here to make a point, to scratch an itch and satisfy his curiosity so that maybe seeing the two of you together will stop bothering him so goddamn much. But no matter how good you look like this, no matter how much it makes his cock twitch every time you gasp and moan and writhe underneath that bastard cook, he can’t shake the feeling that he shouldn’t be here.

Yet he can’t tear himself away.

It’s something like torture to watch the cook bring you to your first orgasm with his hands and his mouth, every wet sound and throaty groan lewder than the last. He kneels on the floor at the end of the bed, your legs thrown over his shoulders, skillful fingers thrusting inside while he devours you like he’s starving. You fist the sheets and the cook’s hair like you’ll tear both to shreds. Zoro has to lean back in his chair, cross his legs, and put one hand over his mouth just to keep himself in check.

If there’s one thing he has, it’s willpower. He can get through this. If he has to take care of himself in the shower later on, so be it. The scene in front of him will be burned into his memory for eternity anyway.

After you finally break with his name on your lips, the cook rushes to kiss you, pushing you up the bed so he can crawl on top. He praises you between messy swirls of his tongue, dry humping before he’s even inside you like he can’t help it. You guide his head down to your chest so you can catch your breath, and he kisses the tops of your breasts instead. Zoro bites his lip.

It’s pathetic. Zoro should be disgusted. Instead, he’s out of breath and embarrassingly hard. He’s just grateful you’re not looking at him.

Once your hips are rolling just as desperately, you take his cock in your hand and lead the cook to you with a shuddering moan. Even from a few feet away, Zoro can hear how wet you are. It makes him shiver. Shallow thrusts become deeper, familiar bodies slotting together until your hips meet and begin to grind. When the cook starts to whine, Zoro starts to lose himself.

He’s heard it before, though he pretended not to. The two of you aren’t exactly quiet when you sneak off to the bathroom together at all hours, but Zoro has always been quick to turn the corner and walk away. Seeing is very different. There’s nothing left to imagine anymore. He knows exactly what it looks like now—the cook picking you apart, piece by piece, until you shatter.

He can’t help it anymore. Zoro’s knees are shaking, he’s so turned on. He stares at your fingers, at the way they’re digging into the cook’s lower back, and presses the heel of his own hand between his legs. The relief is instant, and so is the hiss that escapes his lips as he throws his head back. It’s shameful how badly he needs to be touched right now.

So is the way he finds you watching him when he looks up again.

His entire body pulses—is his heart pounding as loud as he thinks it is?—while you scramble for the cook’s shoulders, pawing for his attention. Is this it? Should he just leave? As ashamed as he is, he really doesn’t want to.

“Sanji, baby,” you ask, your eyes locked with Zoro’s. “Can he come over here?”

The cook slows to a stop. You cup his face while he pants for breath. Zoro swallows thickly, frozen, waiting. He’s never felt like this, like his head is barely above water, and that alone scares him.

The cook halfheartedly chuckles, wiping some sweat from your brow. It’s easy to forget he’s still inside you until his voice comes out soft but wrecked at the same time. “Didn’t know you wanted him too, my love.”

You nod, coy but enthusiastic. Zoro nearly chokes.

The cook kisses your cheek, then your neck. “As you wish.”

Over his shoulder, as if he knows Zoro can’t resist, the cook calls, “You heard the lady, moss head.”

Undressing is a blur. Boots are tossed aside. Swords clatter to the floor. Earrings clink together as Zoro pulls his threadbare shirt off his back. Before he realizes it, he’s standing there naked next to the bed, practically panting, not knowing what to do with himself.

You reach for his hand. He lets you take it and pull him in. “Come closer,” you beckon. “You can touch me. It’s ok.”

He sits down, leaning against the headboard, and lets you settle between his legs, only a little self conscious that his boner is touching the soft, slick skin of your back. You nestle yourself so sweetly in the notch of his shoulder, right over the edge of his battle scar. You place his hands around your middle, then drape yours around the back of his neck, securing yourself in place.

“Keep going, Sanji,” you purr.

From this angle, looking down over your shoulder, Zoro watches the cook slide back inside you. He feels filthy for groaning, but he can’t stop it from tumbling out.

His hands shake against your stomach as you find your rhythm again. The cook curls himself over you, watching too as he sinks his cock inside you again and again. His head is tilted down, hair covering both eyes, but he’s moaning so close to Zoro’s face with each forward thrust. Each sound burns in the pit of Zoro’s stomach.

You said he could touch you, right? Experimentally, he paws just below your navel, pressing his big hands into the soft flesh there. Your head rolls to the side, your lips grazing the side of his neck as you beg, “more, Zoro.”

He can barely breathe as he pushes just a little harder. Oh god, he can feel the cook inside you, the slight bulge pushing in and out. The weight and the sound of it, this melding of bodies, is all too much, and yet Zoro needs more.

Zoro slides one hand down and wraps it around the base of the other man’s cock where it disappears inside you.

“Fuck, oh fuck,” the cook swears. His head rolls on his neck, his chin craning back. His hair falls away from his face, giving Zoro the clearest view he’s ever had of both his eyes at once, his heavy lids fluttering and both curly brows knitting together in the center of his flushed forehead.

Zoro torques his hand over, putting his thumb on top, doing his best to swipe against your clit as you grind up. You press your face deeper into Zoro’s neck, your moans higher pitched and more broken than before. He thinks he hears your choke, “please.”

“I got you,” he promises, huffing against your temple. He cradles your face with his free hand, needing to hold you, desperate to give you anything you want. “You’re ok, I got you,” he groans as the underside of his own cock slides against your back.

He doesn’t know what the hell he’s saying, but he has to say it. He feels the heat of your face against his lips and stares right at the cook’s open, wet, whimpering mouth and says, “Both of you. I got you.”

The cook cries out, his hips jutting forward, and finishes, shaking. Zoro tightens his grip, tries to prolong the other man’s peak until he’s spent. Your back arches sharply against Zoro with your own release—he can feel a string of his precum pull and snap between you. It’s disgusting; it’s so hot he can’t stand it.

The room feels too quiet, suddenly. All Zoro can hear is huffing breath and the pounding of his own heart. Finally, the cook seals his mouth to yours with a needy, humming kiss. You mewl as the cook pulls out—a low, guttural noise that Zoro takes like an uppercut. He lets his head fall back against the headboard, his stomach in knots.

He thinks it’s over. He’s painfully hard and leaking while trying to get his head back down from wherever he floated off to. He holds you, preparing to walk away.

Tenderly, you stroke the cook’s hair as you relax against Zoro’s chest. When you speak, your voice is scratchy but unmistakable.

“Zoro. Do you want to fuck me?”

Zoro’s mouth turns dry. His cock jumps hard against his abs.

“Yeah,” he says.

The cook rolls over and hums again. “You want one more, baby?” He asks. He sounds almost delirious. “You want me to watch him fuck my cum deeper inside you?”

Your body shivers. “Yes.”

The cook looks up at him. “Is that what you want?”

“Fuck.” Never, even in hell, would Zoro have used those words. But something turns over in his brain, and that’s exactly what he wants. He craves it.

Clumsily, he slides out from behind you. The cook takes his place, and he crawls over top you, gaze roaming from your face to your breasts, down to your messy, beautiful pussy. He’s not sure he’s ever seen anything better.

Your knees bob a little in the air; you’re getting tired. That’s fine. He’s not sure how long he’ll be able to last anyway. He fists himself, spreading his pre down the shaft with his thumb.

Your eyes wander to his groin. “Big,” you mumble.

He knows. “If you want to stop, just say so.”

“No, s’ok.”

He looks down again, eyes lingering on the spend that leaks from you. With a hitched breath, Zoro lines himself up. Despite his size, he slides in so easily it makes him shudder. He bites the corner of his lip with one canine, consumed by your wet heat. With nowhere else to go, slick dribbles out around him as he pushes further in.

You twitch as he bottoms out, so sensitive and pliant under him. And soft, so much softer than he could have imagined as he pushes your thighs up to your chest by instinct.

“So big…” you moan.

Zoro can’t breathe. He can barely think—he just moves where his body tells him, gradually picking up speed until he’s full-on thrusting, sandwiching you tight between him and the other man.

The cook cups your breasts with both hands, tweaks your nipples now and again to make you jolt. Zoro stares at his kiss-bruised mouth as he babbles out praise. “You take him so well, princess. So good for us.”

Zoro’s face hovers so close to the cook, he can feel his breath with every word. He’s like an animal, fucking you with a one-track mind. He can’t think of anything but how this feels—hard, hot, wrong, delicious. With your next moan, he drops his mouth to yours to swallow it.

As soon as Zoro pulls back, the cook replaces him, pressing two fingers in your mouth for you to suck on.

“You like that?” he groans, his gravelly voice even huskier than usual. “Fuck, you’re so perfect.”

Barreling towards the edge in the grip of your cunt, Zoro loses himself. He surges forward, feels his earrings slap against the side of his face, and captures the cook’s stupid lips with his own. Zoro bullies his tongue inside as the cook moans, opens up, and lets him in. He can’t get deep enough, can’t taste enough of the smoke and wine and lust to sate himself.

When you scratch your nails down his chest, blunt nails catching on his old, worn scars, Zoro snaps. With a thick growl, he cums so much that it pushes his cock halfway out of you. You convulse, leg muscles going stiff as you find one final peak before he pulls out.

Everything is a blur. Zoro’s heart and lungs are screaming for rest, and he drops his head to your stomach to catch his breath.

“Fuck,” the cook swears softly, like he’s half asleep.

Your nails rake over Zoro’s shortly cropped hair as sweat drips down his temples. “You were amazing.”

As the rush fades and Zoro comes back to his senses, his entire body buzzes. There aren’t words for it, the mixture of shock and relief he feels cradled against you as the cook reaches over to the bedside table and lights a cigarette. The world has shifted a little on its axis. You couldn’t have planned this, and not in his wildest dreams could Zoro have imagined any of it.

What the hell just happened?

[lymtw]

Toji and his shy girl cuddle fucking WHO SAID THAT

A/N: EEHEE I heard it too 🤭 Even if the echo took a while to reach me 😔 No, but really, I loved this! It's been a while since i've written out a request 😅 I'm excited to start trying some of these, again :)

Thank you for sending in this request 💙

Toji and His Shy Girl

"Hey, you," Toji says, grinning like a menace at the way your body minimally jolts, like he scared you. "You don't like me or something?"

You turn to look at him, a barely there crease between your brows. "What? I do. What do you mean?"

"I mean, why don't you wanna be with me? You're sitting on your own island over there, while i'm over here... all alone... feeling like chopped liver."

He's cute, you think. Playfully dramatic enough to make you giggle. It's always nice to know he wants you around, too, when you keep your distance to give him that choice.

"I just thought you would want some space, is all," you explain. "This is a pretty long movie, I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

"Would sitting with me make you uncomfortable?" Toji asks.

"No," you respond, though the thought of sitting next to him or on him, has your heart rate picking up. Most of the time, Toji wants it to be the latter, and when this happens, it feels like he's peeking at your soul. You feel like every nerve in your body is tingling and like your skeleton is buzzing. You know he can sense your nervousness, most of the time, and yet he doesn't take it easy on you. His patience, his charm, and his irresistible way of trying to seduce you—none of it ever gets easier to withstand without you feeling flustered.

"You're comfortable, I'm comfortable. We're both comfortable, so, come closer, sweetheart." He sees hesitance flash through your features, before you finally give in and start inching closer.

"Come on. Closer, baby," Toji instructs, watching as you continue to inch towards him. "Look at all this space. Get rid of it."

He chuckles at the properness of your folded hands in your lap, when you sit on the edge of the couch cushion, in front of his legs. "You're gonna stop there and keep watching the movie all uncomfortable?"

"It's fine," you say, smiling at him before facing forward, again. You can feel him staring at you as you try to focus on the movie. His hand goes to your thigh, an act that has your heart beating rapidly in your chest, close to being heard in your ears. He tugs at your sweatpants, earning your attention.

"I'll spell it out for you, doll. I want you here, lying right in front of me. Wanna cuddle with you and shit." You return your gaze to the screen and though anybody would think that it's rude, because it seems like you're ignoring him, Toji knows what it means. He knows it's hard for you to hold eye contact with him, sometimes, and that you looking away gives you time to collect your thoughts and prepare what you want to respond with.

"But you won't be able to see the movie," you say, as a last ditch effort to let him enjoy the movie without obstructing his view and invading his personal space.

"We'll make it work. Just come here. Please?" He pats the spot in front of him, directing you to lie right where he wants you.

"Okay," you say, more to yourself than to him. You scoot down a little more, before lying down on your side, on the exact spot he said he was wanted you. In an instant, you're swallowed up by him. He pulls you in so that you're pressed up against him, his leg overlaps yours, and his face goes straight for your neck.

"T-Toji, I know you can't see the movie. I can go back, if you want."

"Mm-mm. Nope. It's all good. Got what I need," he assures, low against your neck, a hand planted on your stomach. "Pretty baby," he murmurs, pressing kisses onto your skin. "You smell so fucking good."

You feel like some sort of soothing toy for him, with the way any time you sit with him, you end up stealing his focus and withstanding the way he mouths at your skin and runs his hands all over you.

"You comfortable? Have enough space?" He asks, kissing your earlobe. You nod in response and he hums, a click of his tongue and a couple pats to your stomach, expressing his disapproval of the nonverbal confirmation. "Say it, baby. Yes or no?"

"Sorry. Yes, i'm comfortable," you confirm, in a manner more to his liking.

"Mm... you're so good to me, doll," Toji praises, adding a kiss to the appreciation.

He understands that sometimes it's difficult for you to say things out loud and you'll dismiss your own discomfort for the sake of not having to verbalize what is bothering you. It's why he's so adamant on hearing you talk, over seeing you nod or shake your head in response to things. He's working on this with you. He's heard 'sorry' so many times, now, and each time, he rejects your apology, deeming it unnecessary, because he knows you're trying.

Things are still for a few moments. You get fully comfortable, lying there on the couch, with Toji spooning you, and manage to refocus on the movie. His hand goes under your shirt, meeting the warmth of your skin. It's a gesture that disturbs the calmness of your heart, as well as your focus on the TV, again.

"This okay?" He asks, caressing your stomach, occasionally pinching it, gently.

"Mhm," you hum, in response, before pretending to pay attention to the movie. You're too distracted by the dragging of his fingertips and the goosebumps he lures onto your skin. You're sure he can feel them, too, because his hand starts wandering higher up your torso, like he wants to get more reactions from you. You shift minimally when his fingers slide beneath the elastic band of your sports bra, grazing the bottom part of your breast.

"Still comfortable?" Toji asks, keeping his hand still until he receives a response from you.

"Yeah... you're okay," you assure, once again, resting your hand on his forearm. Your breath hitches when his fingertips brush against your nipple. Toji grins at the involuntarily squeeze you offered his arm, finding amusement in the way your body reacts to his touch.

Toji chuckles, lowly, at all your sudden fidgeting. "Does that feel good, mama? Want me to keep going?" He asks, planting a kiss on your shoulder. You're not stopping him. If anything, he can feel you gently pushing his arm so that his entire hand goes up your bra. "It's alright. You can tell me," he says, encouraging you to respond.

"It feels good. Please..." Your soft voice halts, a shuddered exhale released through your nose.

"Mhm, give me more. Please, what?" He says, baiting a more elaborate response from you. "Just saying 'please' doesn't tell me what you need, pretty."

"Please... keep touching me." You cringe, internally, the second the words come out. You don't even realize how proud Toji is or get to indulge in the praise he offers, because you're too busy overthinking what you just said.

"That was perfect," Toji murmurs, scattering light kisses onto your neck. His enormous hand stretches your bra, and grabs ahold of your breast. "I'll give you anything you want, sweetheart. Anything. The trick is... you gotta ask for it."

That alone is enough to teach you another lesson on not always being able to get what you want. It's not always so easy for you to ask Toji for things. He's seen you get frustrated, because of this. It happens, even if your frustration is never loud and you don't raise your voice or throw a tantrum. It's quite the opposite. Too many questions to your initial request, results in you shaking your head, as if to say, 'never mind. I'll do it myself'. Having to repeat yourself too many times, gets a similar result. Even in times when he's just asking you to describe something more, you lose patience with yourself and your inability to communicate what you need, efficiently, and essentially give up on explaining it to him, doing it yourself, instead.

It's times like these that really help you out in that aspect. You want something that you can make yourself feel, but receiving it from Toji makes it so much better, because of the element of surprise. You give him access to your entire body and he gives you everything you could ever want in terms of pleasure. You never know where he's going to touch you and what he's going to touch you with.

"You understand?" Toji asks, seeking comprehension from you. A small whimper interrupts the silence of an expected response. "I know. Tell me," he encourages.

Your grip on his arm gets tighter and more of your restrained soft sounds reach his ears as he keeps rolling your stiffened peak between his fingers. You gasp when he shifts his attention to your other breast and writhe in his arms. "Y-Yes—please—yes, Toji. I understand."

"Sensitive thing." He chuckles. "Look at that little arch. Bet you're soaked, already, huh?"

"Oh... god, i'm sorry," you mumble, relaxing your back against him, again. You feel like you could implode with how much attention you're being given. You just want to shrink and hide under the couch, and just watch the rest of the movie from there.

"You're fine, doll. I know the slightest touch does a lot to you," he says, brushing over your nipple, knowing that your reaction will emphasize his point. "You nervous?"

You groan in response to the question and turn your head so that your face is planted in the pillow, earning another deep chuckle from Toji.

"I'm not gonna eat you, mama," he jokes, grinning at the way your body trembles with contained amusement. "I mean... I can't lie and say I haven't thought about it before. You're sweeter than any candy or cookie—even cake. You're sweeter than all of it, but I need you here with me, so I can't... I won't eat you, alright?" His method of getting you to lighten up worked enough to lure giggles from you. "Yeah, there you go. Relax. Just wanna love on you," he murmurs, pressing kisses to your shoulder. "Wanna make you feel good. You want that, gorgeous?"

Throughout your time with Toji, you've learned that he's a very hands on man. He's constantly seeking your warmth and softness, because physical touch is his love language and he'll put in the work to get you to comfortably connect with him that way, too. You find that sometimes when you're lying in his bed, ready for the sleep part of sleeping over, he'll stick his head up your shirt and just fall asleep like that on your chest. It's easy for him to relax when he can hear your heart wildly beating in your chest. Sometimes, randomly, when you're just sitting next to him, he'll pick you up and set you down on him, just to watch you get flustered when he starts talking to you within such a close proximity. He loves the way you scramble to escape his sight, always ending up with your face buried in his neck.

"Aw, don't go all quiet on me, now, pretty. You know better. Say what's on your mind." His hand slides out of your bra and goes back down to your stomach, the roughness of his palm rubbing your soft skin. You don't like making him beg for you. He's patient enough with your nervous tendencies, you know he doesn't deserve it.

"I want you, Toji," you say, softly. It's a huge contrast to the hammering going on in your chest and the annoying rhythm in your ears.

"Yeah? Keep fucking going, baby. How do you want me?"

"Please," you mumble, reverting back to the familiarity of simplicity.

"No, not like that. Give me a little more," Toji clarifies.

"I... I want you to touch me... and make me feel good. Want you to feel good, too."

You feel and hear the rumble of his laugh behind you, a sound that makes your fingertips tingle and your stomach erupt with butterflies all over again.

"You precious angel. You want me to fuck you?"

You don't know how long you can last with your heart beating so fast. It's a miracle that it hasn't exploded, with how it's almost always racing when you're around Toji.

You feel like your face is on fire, but you nod, and offer a soft, yet, clear, "yes, please," giving Toji the consenting words he's been listening closely for.

"Alright, ma. You just focus on the rest of the movie and i'll take care of you, 'kay?"

"Mhm," you hum, in response. You pull on the drawstring of your pajama bottoms and begin pulling them down with one hand. Toji watches with a sly smirk on his face as he feels you shift around, more of your skin coming into view. This is your effort. This is what makes him love you so damn much. You try for him. He knows your heart is probably in shambles, as you kick the article off and wait for what's to come, but you're showing him that you want this, and that means beyond everything to him.

"You're so perfect, my girl," he says, pressing kisses to your ear. "So, so perfect..." he trails off when his fingers meet the wetness of your panties. He was right. You're utterly soaked. His hand dips into your underwear, instantly greeted by your warmth as he keeps digging. Two fingers drag through your slit, back and forth, for just long enough to have you fidgeting as he collects a sample of your sweetness. Once your thighs attempt to shut around his hand, craving more, he pulls it out and admires the glossy coating on his fingers. Without hesitation, he brings the digits into his mouth, a low hum of satisfaction leaving him as he licks them clean. His cock is throbbing in his pants, straining mercilessly against his boxers as he savors the aftertaste of you on his tongue.

"Straight up fucking sugar," Toji murmurs, as he hastily starts pulling down his own pants, ready to get a feel of what he just tasted. There's a breathiness in his voice, urgency that you can't process, because you can barely believe he sounds that way after tasting you. Then you feel it—the monster he packs, pressing against you.

"I'm all hard, just for you, pretty," he murmurs in your ear, as he starts grinding his bulge against your ass. "Feel that?" He groans. "It's all for you. All yours." He plants a kiss on your neck and halts the movement of his hips against you. His hand returns beneath your shirt, a slow drag up your abdomen, towards your chest. His fingers dip beneath the elastic once more and splay over your breast, squeezing. He can feel the stutter in your chest as he feels up the entirety of it. You keep fidgeting against him, and he recognizes this as your way of saying you need more.

"You ready for me?" He asks, still toying with your stiffened, sensitive peaks.

"Ready," you respond, maintaining your voice as steady and clear as possible. You squeeze his hand through your shirt for deeper assurance.

Toji smiles softly at your little gesture and pulls his hand out of your shirt. Just as he did when he was directing his touch towards your chest, he follows the same path down, tracing your curves until his hand makes it way between your legs. He moves the gusset of your underwear aside, an act that has you shaking your foot against the couch cushion.

"Relax, sweet girl," Toji hums, a low chuckle following. He lowers his boxers enough to pull his throbbing, drooling cock out and smears the precum that beads on his tip all over his length. Once it's all covered he guides his tip to the warm, slick ridden space between your legs. After running it through your slit a few times, to hear the squelching sounds and your little whimpers when he catches your clit, he slowly starts sinking into you.

"There, baby," Toji murmurs. His warm palm rubs the softness of your stomach and he scatters wet little kisses on your shoulder and your neck, all while he continues feeding your cunt his inches. "You're so fucking cute," he coos, listening closely to the sound of your little whimpers and gasps. "Fuck..." he groans, once his hips are flush against you. He can feel the way you clench and flutter around his pulsing cock, making the fit even more snug for seconds at a time.

"All good, little lady?" He asks, pinching your goosebump covered stomach.

"Mhm," you hum, a chime of your giggle following.

Toji's hold on you is secure. He has you. Warm and gentle caresses and brushes of his fingers on your skin prove it, along with the way he languidly grinds his hips against you, as if to remind you that you're connected in the most physically intimate way. It's not like you could ignore it, anyway. You feel all of him. His warmth, his strength, his company. It's impossible to ignore Toji.

"This movie's pretty boring, huh?" He asks, not even paying attention to what's going on, like he hasn't been since you crawled into his arms.

"You're not even watching," you reason, smiling at the kisses he presses to your ear.

"Got a reaaally good distraction right in front of me." He buries his face in your neck, inhaling your scent. "So warm and pretty and mmm... Can't focus on anything else," he purrs.

"It's okay. You can choose the next... the next one, too..." you gasp at the slow thrusts he offers. With every roll of his hips, his cock slides out just about halfway before sheathing back into the velvety warmth of your walls.

"I don't want to watch TV, anymore. Wanna watch you," he murmurs, monitoring your reactions to his movement. Every twitch, every shift of your legs against his. It's adorable, the way you push your face just a little bit more into the pillow when he tries to get a peek at you.

"Like that, baby?" He murmurs, a deep groan following. "Mhm? Yeah, I know," he says, like he's responding to your moan.

"Toji," you hum out, an unintentional amount of sultriness dripping off his name.

"Fucking- god, you sound so pretty, mama. Let me hear that again. Do it again."

His hips pick up the pace a little, just enough to coax more of those melodic sounds of yours. His hand dips lower, proceeding down the front of your underwear, his thick fingers gliding down towards your slippery clit. It doesn't take much of this electric addition to your pleasure to have you squirming and writhing against him. It's hard not to want to squish his hand between your thighs.

You whimper, a slight arch curving your back. Your clammy, shaky hands grip onto the couch cushion beneath you, your knuckles protruding from the force you put into your hold. You think he's on the brink of devouring you—absorbing you— with how he's holding you like you'll teleport into space if he lets go for a second.

"Say my name," he says, calmly, directly in your ear. "Call for me, sweetheart. Who's touching you? Who's making you feel like this?"

"T-Toji," you obediently pronounce, meekly, yet, to the man's utmost satisfaction.

"Again—fuck, baby—again," he groans, speeding up his fingers on your clit. He knows the motions spiked your pleasure because of how your body tensed up against him.

Sloppy kisses are pressed to your nape, as well as the side of your neck, where you know fully well that he must have left a plethora of marks already. You can hear the consistent sharp breaths he releases through his nose as he begins to desperately roll his hips into you, chasing what's coming up on him ridiculously fast. He's not aggressive—not entirely soft—but there's just enough movement to where you can hear a slight creak in the couch.

"Toji," you croon, softly. "T-Toji, Toji," you repeat, a high pitched whimper ending your little chain of his name.

"Oh, you're so fucking sweet, doll. So fucking sweet..." he mutters, his voice deep enough to make goosebumps spread anew, all over you. He hums at the feeling of your cunt erratically clenching around him. It's a tell tale sign—along with the frequency of your precious little sounds—of how you're right there, about to cum all over his twitching cock.

Toji loves how flustered you get when he has you tell him that you're about to cum, but he also loves the abruptness that comes with you being so overwhelmed by his touch and how he handles you, that for a few seconds you tense up and release all the sounds that bubble up in your chest, caving to the relentless amount of pleasure you feel without a warning.

"You're my pretty girl," Toji says, lowly, grinning when that's all it takes for you to gasp and arch off his front. Your body trembles and your thighs squeeze around his hand when his fingers continue to rub your clit. His tip just continues to prod at the sensitive spot within you, further intensify the sensation coursing through you. You're aware of how your moans have gotten louder and attempt to muffle them with the pillow, but your breathy little cries can be heard, regardless.

They spur on Toji's own release. His hand comes out of your underwear to avoid overstimulating you and glides up your abdomen, aiming towards your chest. He grabs ahold of one of your breasts, his hand smothering the entire thing as he squeezes and kneads it. You can hear his breathing grow heavier, his thrusts more punctuated, and a little faster in pace. The creaking of the couch is more frequent, as are his groans in your ear. His hold on you is tight. With his forearm having brought you back as close as you can be to him, you're locked in. With a few more thrusts, into your dripping wet warmth, he's spilling his load into you, breathy, deep voiced expletives tumbling off his lips as smears your gooey walls with all the warm, creamy substance.

"F-Fuck..." he groans, slowing the roll of his hips to a languid grind. "I got you," he says, chuckling at the gasp you let out from being filled even more. He drags unfocused, wet kisses over your shoulder and stills his hips entirely with a heavy breath. "Got you, mama." He loosens his hold on you, allowing you to breathe and move a little more freely. "Good?"

"Mhm. Good," you assure.

"Good. Gimme a kiss," he requests, smirking at the sound of your tittering. "What? You laughing at me 'cause I want a little smooch?"

"No," you say, through soft, but, more audible giggling.

"You promise?" He says, grinning at the slight tremble of your shoulders as your twinkles of laughter continue. "I'll let it slide, just this once. Now, give me a kiss, baby."

With a smile lingering on your face—the aftermath of your short giggle fit—you lie back a little and crane your neck as much as you comfortably can. Toji leans in the rest of the way and presses his lips to your sweet, lip balm layered ones, brushing them over and over as if he's parched and you're a glass of water. Both of your bodies react to the spark of desire reigniting through the gentle gesture. You can feel him throbbing inside you, while he can feel you clenching around him. His hand pawing at your chest makes butterflies swarm in your stomach and fuels the fluttering going on below.

You hear the dramatic background music of the movie's end credits and break the kiss, facing forward. You realize now that you paid just as much attention as he did—almost none—even when you agreed to keep watching as he touched you.

"Play another boring one," Toji says, behind you, already nipping at your ear, because your attention isn't solely on him anymore.

"But you won't watch it," you say, shuddering at the chill that runs down your spine, when you feel his lips behind your ear.

"That's the point."

[tired-biscuit]

No joy in giving if you’re never pleased

pairing: rengoku kyojuro/fem!reader

premise: When a certain Hashira proposes to marry you for the sake of conforming to social norms, you find yourself in a spot where you’re unable to refuse the offer. Despite your initial agreement on keeping the union strictly professional, however, his accidental exposure to an incredibly potent form of aphrodisiac causes well-hidden feelings to quickly rise to the surface in a single night.

cw: 18+ MDNI, canon divergence - HE LIVES!!!, arranged marriage, s pollen, loss of virginity (he loses his v-card, not you), creampie x2 (double delight, lol), brief mention of domestic violence from reader’s previous marriage.

wc: 7.3k

———

Rengoku Kyojuro had never planned on getting married. It’s not like the thought didn’t cross his mind occasionally, but how could he, with the life he’s chosen to lead? 

Despite the tendency of coming across as a bit daft because of his rather eccentric nature, Kyojuro is far from stupid. He’s well aware that if a marriage were to successfully prosper, it requires a number of things; one of them being stability. Stability that is, for the most part, expected to be constant. 

So with this very important fact taken into account, how on earth is he, the Flame Hashira of the Demon Slayer Corps, expected to provide stability for his partner? Constant stability, at that?

After all, missions often keep him away from home for long periods of time. If it’s not the missions, then it’s certainly the endless training sessions that cause for an incredibly busy schedule. And what about the apprentices that have yet to show up on his doorstep?

At this point, the only time he ever slows down is when he needs to recover and gather his strength back after a particularly nasty fight. And even then, when he’s got nothing else to do but spend his days resting in bed and tending to his injuries, he’s usually completely elsewhere with his thoughts, already strategizing on how to further hone his already sharp skills in order to avoid causing more harm.

However, being the Flame Hashira comes second to being an obedient son. So when his father presses on the matter by the time Kyojuro turns 27 years old, he once again does what is expected of him and dutifully finds himself a wife.

The arranged marriage ends up becoming just that – arranged. It’s a spring wedding: beautiful and sudden just like the season it’s been placed into. You lay eyes on each other only once before the knot is tied, and then you’re whisked away to house Rengoku. 

You’re both in dire need of it, though. Him, because his father demands it, and you, because you’re a widow who’d just recently buried her now-late husband, but who remains to be too young and heirless to be able to safely cling to that title. 

Unlike your first husband, however, Kyojuro treats you exceptionally well. While he may not be present most of the time, leaving you to tend to your shared home more or less on your own terms, he always, always makes sure to treat you with respect. He speaks kindly to you each time your paths do end up crossing, encourages you to spend time with his equally as kind-hearted younger brother Senjuro, and enthusiastically compliments your cooking whenever he gets the chance to eat it.

He’s also never raised his hand against you – a habit your previous husband had often acted upon and that had left you with plenty of scars even long after the ones on your skin had healed and faded away. No, instead, Kyojuro doesn’t touch you at all. 

And by that, it truly means not at all.

You may sleep in the same bed on the nights when he’s around, but it’s like a chasm stretches itself between you and your husband the second you clamber underneath the covers together. It’s not emotional distance, per se – your personalities seem to be getting along just fine, at least from what you’ve gathered so far – so you suspect that it must be a different kind of issue that’s stopping him from consummating the marriage.

When asked, even whilst becoming a bit flustered, he’d openly admitted that he expects nothing from you concerning the matter. That he never really gave much thought about fathering children, since they could easily be seen as a weakness by his enemies and thus potentially used against him, as morbid as that sounds. 

But even with your initial wariness and doubt after the conversation, he’s since made it clear time and time again that he’s perfectly content with keeping your marriage purely platonic, exactly like he’d said. The union keeps both sides of your families happy, while still allowing you the safety and freedom you’ve always desired as a woman. And as for him, the ability to continue his work uninterrupted is seen as only a plus in his eyes.

Some would call his reasonings selfish, but you’ve long since learned that your husband is anything but that. Everything he does, he does for others. Having a wife is already risky enough as a swordsman, and yet he has still chosen to obey orders and take you in, even going as far as to teach you some of the more basic self defense maneuvers for some peace of mind.

Besides, during the first couple of months, the entire thing had sounded like a dream. Having a husband in an arranged marriage who willingly provides, treats you like an equal, and is generally fond of you without the more forceful, unpleasant aspects around it; could you ask for anything more?

Well, yes. You suppose you could. But wait! It’s not that you aren’t appreciative of the things he gives you – in fact, you’ll be forever grateful for them, storing and cherishing them for the rest of your life – it’s more so… about the things he doesn’t.

Because while he may hold lovely conversations with you no matter the time of day, and while he may smile brightly each time you welcome him back home in the courtyard, the crown of his head bathed in sunlight, no matter what kind of ploy you attempt, Kyojuro just doesn’t seem to be picking up on the fact that you don’t see this marriage as strictly transactional anymore.

Over the last year, feelings for the golden-eyed Hashira have blossomed inside your heart. You’ve tried not to succumb to them, heeding his wishes, but have still ended up catching yourself buzzing with pleasant nervousness when in his presence more than a handful of times now. To make matters even worse, you even have trouble falling asleep next to him in bed because of how fast your heartbeat begins to race the moment he enters the room – a treacherous heartbeat which you have no doubt he can hear.

Alas, nothing seems to sway him. The closest you’ve ever gotten is on a couple of occasions when he’d come home bearing wounds that weren’t so severe that they needed to be looked over by Shinobu, but nevertheless required to be tended to. He’d tried to reassure you countless of times that he could handle them on his own just fine when you’d stepped in to help, but you’d stubbornly insisted every single time without fail.

“Of what use am I as a wife if I can’t even patch up my own husband?” you’d said one time, carefully reaching for his arm. The blood had mostly dried up by then, already beginning to flake. “Just let me help you, Kyojuro. I promise it’s no trouble. It’s what life partners are meant for.”

Kyojuro, surprisingly, had kept silent after that, for once allowing you fully to continue your ministrations. Still covered in grime and watching you with visible uncertainty, he’d caught but didn’t vocally acknowledge the small gasp you let out the second your fingertips had made contact with his alarmingly hot skin, and, by the time you’d bandaged him up, had even hesitantly promised you that he’d take it easy for the next couple of days.

You, on the other hand, were incapable of stopping yourself from thinking about the heat his body emanates from that moment onward. It supposedly reaches its peak only during battle, he’s told you this in order to soothe your worries, but even by the time it winds back down, you still find it dangerous. It’s no wonder he’s so quick to warm the bed the second he lies down, the man is practically a walking, breathing furnace!

And just the thought of that heat engulfing you; wrapping you up in its warm, tender embrace, caressing every inch of you, filling you– Well, perhaps it’s enough to drive any spouse just a little bit mad with yearning.

But what can you possibly do? All he ever does is talk to you. Occasionally, he’ll perhaps slip up and ogle at the exposed side of your neck, or the curve of your lips, but it’s often all so fleeting that you don’t even have time to properly reciprocate. Before you can even begin to wonder if he’s actually capable of lusting after you, he’s already back to his friendly, unsuspecting self.

However, that all changes when he comes home one evening after his training session with a certain Love Hashira. Because that night, you come to learn that the sweet, always vehemently respectful Rengoku Kyojuro who you cherish so dearly, is perfectly capable of lusting after his wife. 

He’s just good at concealing it with politeness.

———

“Kyojuro, is that you?”

Looking into the mirror you’re sitting in front of, you briefly pause combing your hair to smile at the reflection of your husband who now stands leaning against the open doorway of your shared bedroom. The lights in the hallway behind him are off, shrouding it in darkness just like the rest of the house for the night, but the soft glow coming from the couple of candles you’ve lit earlier to aid your routine before bed is just enough to define him.

From what you can gather from a single lookover, he seems to be perfectly fine physically-wise. There are no cuts slashing his smooth skin, and no bruises that paint it painfully violet. No sight of blood, chipped teeth or broken bones either. Actually, the only two things that seem to be in a state of disarray are his clothes and hair. 

He’s missing his signature haori and the top three buttons of the black uniform jacket that he wears underneath are undone, revealing his neck and the edges of his collarbones. As for his hair, you’d best describe it as mussed. Like he’d felt the constant need to run his hands through it multiple times, pushing it away from his face over and over again through the course of the day.

For someone who normally looks well put together, these small but otherwise specific changes in his appearance almost strike you as somewhat indecent. Perhaps it might be a bit of an overreaction from your side, however the entire time you’ve known Kyojuro, you’ve never seen him act sloppy or salacious when it comes to his image.

It causes your stomach to sink.

Surely he wouldn’t…?

No. He most certainly would not. A good husband like Kyojuro would surely never stray towards a ghastly thing such as infidelity, right? He’s one of the most loyal and honest people you’ve ever met. You just can’t even begin to imagine him lying and deceiving you about anything of this sort.

Nevertheless, your voice still proceeds to wobble slightly as you pick up the comb again, worrying thoughts rushing through your mind a mile a minute. “How did your training with Miss Kanroji go?”

“Mm, I’m not quite sure to be honest. It was a bit odd,” Kyojuro mutters as he steps into the room. 

You don’t fail to notice how different he sounds. The tone of his voice is uncharacteristically quiet, almost subdued. It only proceeds to worsen the feeling of dread that’s forming in the pit of your stomach now.

“Odd?” you repeat, carefully following his movements in the mirror. He’s aimed straight towards you. “How so?”

“Well, I gained the upper hand on her while sparring and she panicked and threw some kind of powder that Miss Shinobu is helping her perfect right at my face,” he explains, scratching his cheek. “It’s supposedly perfect for her technique. Small doses can stun and disorient enemies, but apparently she threw so much of it at me that she immediately had to send me home.”

You turn your head to the side in one quick movement, concern for your husband causing your eyes to open wide and diminish your earlier worries. It flusters you so much that you abandon all sense of formality, “Shouldn’t you go see Kocho if that's the case, then? If she’s the one who helped develop this powder, surely she can help!”

His mouth curls into a lazy grin when your gazes connect, a mere shadow of the beaming smile he otherwise tends to give you. He’s positioned himself right behind you now, standing so close that you can feel the heat that his body emanates brushing over your back in steady waves. The thin silken robe you’ve donned can barely be considered a barrier, but despite his warmth, you want to shiver instead.

“I thought the same thing, however Mitsuri had made it abundantly clear that I’d find everything I’d need to get better at home. Multiple times actually,” he says thoughtfully. “Come to think of it, she seemed to be in quite a rush to send me back to you.”

“To me? Really?” you mumble, facing the mirror again. Since he’s standing so close to you now, you can’t see his face in the reflection anymore, but for once that just might be a good thing. The wild infatuation you have with him has turned you incapable of having your thoughts in order if you’re stuck looking at his eyes for too long.

“Oh, yes,” he says, nodding even if you can’t see it. “She kept apologizing profusely, rambling that you’ll help me take care of it. I’m still unsure what she meant by ‘it’ exactly, but either way, I have strong faith that you’ll manage just fine.”

Months ago, the fact that he’s willingly allowing himself to be vulnerable with you, letting you nurse him back to health without any sort of fuss that he can do it himself, would make you soar. Now, however, all you feel is the heavy weight of pressure settling down on your shoulders and chest.

With feelings involved, you’ve begun to greatly fear failure. After all, if you fail, you can’t impress him. And if you can’t impress your husband, then you can’t make him fall in love with you. And if you can’t make him fall in love with you, then–

“Darling,” he drawls all of a sudden, sounding even less like himself now. Less clear. “Do you mind if I comb your hair for you? I’ve always wanted to give it a try.”

“Hm?” You blink, momentarily confused from the way he’s disrupted your train of thought with such an unexpected request. “Oh, I, umm… Well, if you’re feeling well enough, then yes, of course you can. Go ahead.”

You haven’t even noticed how tightly you’ve been gripping the comb until you release your hold on it in order to hand it to him. Your fingers brush against each other with the action, the heat of his skin pouring into yours, making you sit up straighter.

You’re still not used to it. How can you be, when there’s rarely any contact?

“Not to worry, I’ll be gentle,” he says, chuckling quietly as he trails his gaze up and down your stiff posture. The smile is apparent in his voice.

“I know. I’m not worried,” you utter, sheepishly avoiding your own reflection in the mirror. Since your hands are empty now, you clasp them together, settling them on your lap while you wait.

Meanwhile, Kyojuro proceeds to begin combing your hair for you. He’s gentle exactly like he promised you he’d be, taking his time with every knot and tangle that had formed during the day. Silence stretches as he works, but you have trouble noticing it because of how loudly your pulse insists on pounding inside your ears, ringing through your entire head.

He’s touching you. Great heavens above, he’s touching you, and it’s outright nerve-racking. His touch is as light as a feather, but you can still feel him dragging his fingers along the length of your hair. It’s sending tingly sensations all over your scalp, all the way down to your spine.

When he reaches underneath your hair to comb it from the bottom up, his fingers briefly brush the side of your neck. It’s only the merest hint of intimacy, a mere sliver of it, but you can’t help but shiver this time, thighs squeezing together.

He pauses and you stare in the mirror with eyes once again open wide like a fawn’s, only this time it’s yourself that you’re worried about, not him. You can see the reflection of his chest and his shoulders. Both seem to heave with the deep breath he takes now. 

A couple of seconds pass before he sinks the comb into your hair again. Still gentle. “Did you bathe?”

The random question takes you aback a bit. Puzzlement laces your tone because of it as you say, “Yes, I did... A little before you returned home.”

“I see,” he murmurs. His chest expands as he inhales another deep breath. “You smell nice.”

“Ah,” you say, looking down at your lap again. Heat creeps up your face at the compliment, slight relief washing over you. “Thank you.”

“You know,” he says eventually, slowly pushing your hair to one side, making use of having you distracted, “I may not have a sense of smell as keen as the one young Kamado possesses, but I’ve learned that your lovely scent grows stronger if you wear your hair on one side like this.” 

“Really?” Your hands itch with the need to cover your burning face. He’s practically showering you with praise and you haven’t got a single clue on how to respond.

“Really.” He carefully fixes a strand of hair behind the shell of your ear. “It grows so strong, actually, that I just want to… Hm. Want to…”

“Kyojuro!” His name leaves your lips in a shrill squeal when he suddenly leans in and presses his nose into the crook of your neck that he’s exposed. Caught by surprise, you push up from the chair in one hasty movement, spinning to face him.

The sight before you makes your skin pull taut. Your husband stares at you with hooded eyelids and pupils so big and dilated that they’ve nearly swallowed the entirety of his irises. They grow even larger when they fixate on you.

His smile grows, revealing teeth. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did I startle you?”

“A little bit,” you admit, soothing yourself.

He’s sweating profusely. You don’t fail to take notice of the obvious sheen of liquid salt that sits on his forehead now, as well as the feverish blush that has overtaken his entire face, neck, and even the tips of his ears.

You frown, taking a step towards him as worry takes over the initial shock for a second time, but he’s quick to raise his hand to stop you. 

“No, it’s better if you stay back for now. I need to think,” he says, voice suddenly profoundly hoarse. Unlike before, his breaths have turned shallow and concerningly fast-paced now, the furrow of his brow prominent. He pants as he bends over, slamming the flat of his palms onto the nearby dresser. “Just-... Let me figure out a way to solve this.”

“Solve what, Kyojuro? What’s gotten into you? Should we go see Kocho?” You say his name again, but this time it comes out as little less than a cry. When you take another step towards him despite him telling you not to, you see how the muscles in his back strain with effort.

You hesitate, weighing your options, but the urge to help your husband is so strong that it prevails in the end. Much to your dismay, however, even with your new goal set in place, you only manage one more step forward before you suddenly find yourself wrapped in a blazing hot embrace, with your back pressing against the dresser – the same dresser he had just been leaning on merely a second ago.

Your body tenses up, clearly startled. This is what it means to experience the strength and speed of a Hashira. The movement, so inhumanly quick that you couldn’t possibly follow it with untrained eyes, had practically swept you off your feet. Your heart pounds inside your chest. Inside your throat, even.

The reason? Instead of slaying you, he’s got his hand on the small of your back, pushing in and arching you in such a way that your bottom halves are basically pressed flush against one another. The other grips the edge of the dresser so harshly that you can hear the wood creaking in protest.

You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out, only a mere hitch of a breath. The prominent outline in his pants that’s now firmly pressing against your thigh has rendered you speechless. 

He’s aroused. You can tell that even with his clothes getting in the way. So aroused, in fact, that it must be hurting him. And sure enough, when you lift your head to look up at him, the expression on his face can only be described as pained.

His fingers twitch when you make eye contact, slipping lower, down your back. He grabs a fistful of your robe, pulling and straining it tight over your front. Since you’re not wearing anything underneath, your nipples pebble against the silk in response to the rubbing of the fabric.

He involuntarily groans deep from the back of his throat as his pupils dilate even further at the sight; a sound you’ve never heard him make before but have fantasized about hearing on some lonely nights nonetheless. The wood of the dresser that’s behind you struggles to not turn into splinters now. Meanwhile, you struggle to keep yourself from not falling apart just the same.

“Aphrodisiac… A strong one. Need to… let you go,” he croaks out between heavy breaths, jaw flexing as he grits his teeth together. He’s completely stiff and continues to sweat, so much so that there's a droplet cascading down his right temple, gliding along the curve of his handsome face.

You see the effort he’s putting in to keep himself from what you suspect is ravaging you, even if every last cell in his body seems to be screaming at him to do the exact opposite. This thing that he’s experiencing right now – the aftermath of Mitsuri’s new weapon, the aphrodisiac – is cranking up his lust levels to a thousand. It’s no wonder that the Love Hashira had rushed to get him home to his wife as soon as possible the second she’d realised the amount she threw at him.

And who else can he turn to but his wife with this sort of issue?

“You can let me go only if you truly want to, dear. It’s fine, I’m fine,” you find yourself saying, hands trembling as you place them onto his chest. His heartbeat is so fast that you’re worried for his wellbeing. The rush of blood that his heart must be pumping throughout his entire body must be unbearable.

He draws in another breath at the soft coo that’s appeared in your voice, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead against your cheek. His exhales fan your skin, creating moisture, sticking you further together. He’s so warm to the touch that you’re beginning to sweat as well.

“Kyojuro.” You reach up to run your fingers through his hair, making him shudder. It’s damp to the touch. “Do you want to let me go? I trust you to be honest with me.”

He stands still for a long moment, just inhaling your scent and keeping you close until he finally makes his decision and slowly shakes his head, rubbing his forehead against your cheek like an affectionate cat would. “No.”

“What do you want, then?” you ask quietly.

“I can’t say,” he whispers. “The things that are running through my head right now… They’re vile. Filthy.”

“I see. Will you let me help? Please,” you utter softly, cautiously reaching down to wrap your fingers around his belt. You tug at the buckle, pulling him forward. He follows obediently, causing your heart to flutter. “Let’s try and find you some release, all right? I’m worried about you.”

“All right,” he says, giving in and hissing lowly through gritted teeth when your fingers delicately trace the protruding bulge in his pants. He’s smart. Deep down, he knows this is the easiest way.

You move your hand away in an instant, but his hips buck forward on their own, pushing further into the already narrow space between you, searching for more friction from your palm. He whines at the foreign way his body reacts now, eyebrows drawing tightly together in embarrassment.

When you look up at him, his face has somehow managed to sear into an even deeper shade of red than before. All he can manage to say to you is a weak, “I’m sorry.”

“Nonsense. I should be the one apologizing,” you say, reaching to untie your robe. You’d ask him to do it, but something tells you that he’d tear it right off of you at this very moment, surely ruining the delicate garment. “You’re in no state to be teased so cruelly right now. It was very foolish of me.”

He parts his lips to say something, but the words fade into nothing from how fast saliva begins to gather inside his mouth as soon as your robe comes undone and reveals the nakedness underneath.

Kyojuro can’t resist ogling openly – it’s his first time seeing a woman completely naked, after all. The curve of your hips, the weight of your breasts, the smooth skin of your stomach, the gentle hairs that gather between your legs... All of it is far too much for him. It’s forcing him to swallow so thickly that it makes his Adam’s apple bob in his throat, and yet the drool just keeps on coming.

He hunches his back as he gets ready to pick you up and slam you on top of the dresser to do god knows what, but he stops himself at the very last second. You watch, lips parted, as his hands tremble around you like you’re wrapped in some kind of invisible shield, muscles painfully spasming with the effort. A second groan escapes him, this one brimming with frustration, allowing saliva to dribble down the corner of his mouth.

He’s not an animal, for crying out loud. He’s a man, a husband – a respectable one at that.

So act like one! 

Clinging to his last shred of sanity, he quickly wipes the drool away with the back of his hand, not caring that it’ll surely get into the sleeve of his uniform that way. Even if he usually wears them with pride, he currently holds so much resentment towards the clothes he’s got on his back that it’s making him see red. They’re incredibly stuffy, so he can barely breathe in them, plus they’re also causing him to overheat when he’s already way past burning.

There’s also a third problem with the clothes, however.

They’re keeping him away from you.

Lacking the patience to undo the rest of the buttons on his jacket, he simply rips them apart even as you frantically reach out to stop him from doing so. The crispy white shirt underneath meets a similar fate, causing even smaller buttons to fly everywhere. Something tells you that you’ll both be stumbling upon them for the next year or so. 

Shrugging the now-ruined garments off of his shoulders, Kyojuro at long last exhales a somewhat relieved breath.

This time it’s your turn to unashamedly leer at him. You drag your eyes across the broad expanse of his chest and shoulders, across the healed, milky-white scars that cover his body from previous battles. The muscles on his arms, the subtle veins running along his biceps and forearms. His stomach is toned, equipped with a golden trail of hair that disappears below his belt, and his skin is tinted slightly pink at the moment, sweat making it appear dewy there as well. 

He’s beautiful. 

And he’s clearly having a rough time, so you’re quick to take his hand.

“Wait. Before I-” He hesitates, searching for the proper word. “Before I bed you, I just wanted to say that I’ve never done this with anyone before. I’m worried I may not know how to, uh… sate you properly because of it.”

You look up into the flames that dance behind his eyes for a long moment. Even whilst barely keeping it together, he’s still worried about you and your pleasure. It makes you so happy that you can’t help but chuckle.

“Always so formal,” you say, still smiling. “But in all seriousness, I appreciate you telling me and thinking about what I want. Don’t worry, I will do my very best to take good care of you and show you the ropes. We’ll learn the rest as we go. But first things first, let’s try and bring down your temperature back to something a little more… Well, passable.”

He nods but doesn’t say anything as he lets you take his hand again and lead him towards the bed. You turn him so that the back of his knees hit the edge and apply pressure to his shoulders to urge him to sit down. Before you know it, you’re climbing onto his lap, straddling him in such a way that already has him breathing hard through his nose.

You wrap your arms around his neck as you place a kiss onto his forehead, tasting the salt there. Then onto the bridge of his nose. As well as his left cheek and the corner of his mouth. His lips part immediately at that, hands desperately bunching up the covers underneath.

You press your forehead against his. Angle your head slightly to one side so that your noses don’t bump. “Close your eyes.”

As he has done so many times in the past, Kyojuro once again does what he’s told, though this time he does it completely willingly. And almost immediately after he does, he feels it.

The softness of your lips lightly pressing against his own. 

The kiss itself is gentle. Loving. A proper form of affection exchanged between a husband and wife. You guide him, mainly paying attention to his bottom lip, making sure to go slow enough to help him adjust despite the fact that you can tell he wants to go faster. Every so often, you poke the merest hint of your tongue out, testing if he’ll open up to you. He does, of course.

So you venture deeper into his hot mouth. You glide your tongue across his teeth, tangle your fingers into the thick, beautiful mane that is his hair, and you tug at the roots until he’s mindlessly pushing his hips up in response, trying to shove himself into you despite his pants getting in the way. 

You’re well aware that he’s in a hurry, but you can’t help but drag the entire thing out just a little bit. Who knows, this may as well be your only chance to have him like this. So you might as well use it.

“Hold me by my hips, dear,” you mumble, eyeing the thin string of saliva that tears when you dip lower to kiss his neck instead. 

You focus on his Adam’s apple, sucking lightly and surely drawing blood close underneath the skin as you feel his large hands wrap around your hips. Your actions will prove apparent by the time morning comes, but you have a faint inkling that he won’t truly mind. The collar of what is left of his uniform jacket is high anyways.

He sure doesn’t seem to have a problem with it now, as he’s moving you back and forth on his lap, using you to try and get himself off on pure instinct. But even if you’re completely on the same page, the grip he has on you has gotten so tenacious that you have no other choice but to grind against the hard length of him.

“Mind your strength, I’m no Hashira,” you say between deep breaths. His blatant need for you is working you up fast, wetness gathering between your legs, and you don’t need to look down to know that you’ve ruined his pants.

He eases his grip and moans into your mouth when you kiss him again, this time a bit more sloppily than last time. Your bodies work together without you having to plan it, twisting and writhing in unison, maximizing the pleasure you’re both experiencing. 

The hair that frames his face is so damp that it clings to his skin. You push it back and whimper when he presses you down harder, causing the zipper to bump against your most sensitive part.

Hearing it brings his blood to a simmer. He’s so out of it by now that he nearly babbles when he speaks, “You know, I can’t count how many times I’ve thought about making you sound like this over these last couple of months. And now that I’m actually hearing it… Ha-ah… It’s so much better than any of the things I imagined in my head.”

“Oh?” Your heart flutters in your chest once more at his forwardness, goosebumps forming over your skin from the thrill. So it wasn’t all in your head; he’s wanted you, too. “But I thought you said you wanted to keep this union purely platonic.”

“What I want… What I wanted for a long time now,” he says, dragging his fingers up and down your spine and looking you directly in the eyes, truly meaning it, “is to be both inside you and inside your heart. If you’ll have me.”

“Of course I’ll have you,” you whisper, unable to fight back the smile that’s forcing itself onto your lips. “I mean, you’re my husband, for crying out loud! There’s no need to be so poetic about it!”

The rest of his clothes are tossed aside soon after, and you waste no time straddling him again, now that you’re finally skin to skin. Sitting on top of him, you use both hands to stroke the whole length of him, squeezing it with your fists gently after you spit on it so as to not overstimulate him too fast.

Even his cock is beautiful just like the rest of him is. Big and curved slightly to the right, with a tip that flushes a deep pink when the velvety foreskin that surrounds it is pulled back and played with. You’re wet enough to take him, but after coming face to face with his size, something tells you that you’ll need all the extra help you can get.

Meanwhile, Kyojuro watches you through such heavy eyelids that you can’t possibly notice the hearts that have formed in his eyes. He’s still panting, biting his tongue to stop himself from pleading and moaning, but the way he clenches his thighs underneath you, unable to stop the pearl of pre-cum from forming at the slit, tells on his desires in an instant.

“We’ll go easy at first,” you utter, unsure if you’re trying to comfort yourself or him.

“Yes, easy,” he repeats, voice rough. He’d never rush you, but it’s evident that he’ll start bursting at the seams if you don’t sit on it soon.

“All right,” you say, drumming your fingers and lifting your hips just enough to align yourself with him, heart beating so fast that it’s making you a bit lightheaded.

His upper lip trembles as his cockhead grazes and catches against your entrance with the movement. He clings onto you, stiff and as expectant as he is desperate, chanting the word please, please, please over and over again inside his head like it’s a broken record.

Luckily for him, his prayers are answered. Slowly, you begin to lower yourself onto him. Even with his size, it’s pretty easy because of how you help guide him inside. You both let out sighs of relief and pleasure when your pussy hugs the tip of him, and moan by the time it begins to take more; squeezing and accepting the rest of him until he finally sinks into you down to the hilt.

At long last, he’s in, nestled in nice and deep. Throbbing and hot, stretching your walls. Pressed firmly against that soft, tender spot inside you that makes you want to wiggle your hips on top of him because it’s far too much to handle otherwise. The pressure the fullness provides awakens the butterflies inside your stomach and draws them into a frenzy.

“Gods, Kyojuro, my love,” you breathe out, letting your robe slide down to your elbows. It only exposes you further, but you don’t mind. You’re comfortable with him. “I can barely fit you inside me.”

“Hah. Makes you an admirable wife,” he says, chuckling even if his pupils are still blown way out of proportion, signalling that he’s still going through it. “I’m–I’m very grateful for it.”

You giggle at his odd choice of praise, pressing the flat of your palms on his stomach so that you can begin to move. However, the second you do, he’s back to holding you by your hips, trying to keep you in place.

Your gazes connect and he blushes even harder, features contorting. “W-wait, don’t-”

“It’s okay,” you say, continuing nonetheless. He’s gotten so warm inside you that you’re positive he’s on the brink of climaxing. “There’s nothing wrong if you come fast. It’s your first time.”

Kyojuro sucks in a sharp breath, fighting tooth and nail to focus. He’s already sensitive enough as it is, but the aphrodisiac he’s inhaled is only making it ten times worse. The sensations you’re making him feel at this point are causing his brain to short-circuit. Unlike during battle, his thoughts have turned into a pathetic jumble.

He wants to please you, that much he’s sure about, however he’s so out of it that he doesn’t even know where to start. So he lets you take charge, grunting out his approval, listening to the wet, sloppy sounds as you ride him, and by the time you slam your hips down for the fifth time, he closes his eyes, clenches his jaw, and spills everything he’s got, unable to stave off the pleasure any longer.

Your movements stutter when you feel his release begin to fill you steadily, overly warm and most definitely plentiful. You pause midway, causing it to trickle down your thighs, allowing a sticky mess to start forming between you.

“Oh, dear,” you whisper, covering your mouth to suppress a quiet laugh. It’s good-natured and you’re sure he knows it. “We’ll make children like this if you aren’t more careful, you know.”

“Crap,” he mutters, sighing. You can feel him twitch inside you at the idea. When he opens his eyes to look at you again, they’re more mellow than they were before, however they’re still brimming with burning want. “Don’t tempt me.” 

Your eyebrow arches in amusement. You’ve never heard him swear before. Not even when he’d been so tired that he wasn’t watching where he was going and had stubbed his toe once. You’re unsure if you approve of it, but perhaps you’ll let it slide in this particular setting.

But onto more important matters: after taking a moment to breathe, you quickly realise that he’s still completely hard even after coming as strongly as he did. Your best guess is that it’s either because of his unfathomable stamina, or Mitsuri’s little present. Perhaps a mixture of both.

So that must mean that this entire thing is far from over. Tracing your fingers over his happy trail, you lift your hips a little and slide them back down just as gingerly. The seed that he’s spilled inside you just now lubes the movement as you test out the playing field. Somehow, it feels even better than it did before.

His eyelashes flutter as he blinks, zeroing in on the creamy circle that’s gathered at his base now. Once again, a wave of heat flashes over his body, hitting him like the train he’d just barely made it alive from all those years ago. 

“You all right?” you ask, a little breathless now. Your hand reaches between you on instinct, a little moan slipping out the moment it strikes contact exactly where you aimed it.

Kyojuro just nods his head and continues to watch you, studying you carefully and paying attention to the way you rub your fingers and play with yourself. He’s more present in his head now that he’s climaxed, the fog lifting just a bit. It lets him notice that the movement of your hand seems to come naturally to you. 

Is this what you do when he's gone for weeks at a time? Possibly thinking about him and touching yourself between your legs? Arching your back while imagining his hot, calloused hands are pushing you right back down, coaxing you to take more?

The idea excites him, and that excitement urges him to contribute to the pleasure of his spouse. And while he may not be experienced in giving it just yet, he picks up on things impressively fast. Body language, eye contact, he’s able to read what you want. So you’re not even all that surprised when he starts to bend his legs at the knees and then thrusts upward, making you gasp when he suddenly burrows himself even deeper inside of you with the action. 

His cum spurts and dribbles out even more by the time he draws back, but he’s rather quick to push it back in, unable to get enough of how tightly you wrap around him whenever he accidentally hits the spot. So he continues the rhythm, slowly but surely making you start to bounce on his cock; all while trying to rub the same messy little circles over your clit that he’s seen you do. 

He’s able to keep up with you this time.

And he sure as hell keeps up. The heat that he’s unknowingly pouring into the sensitive bundle of nerves is making you tremble. He gently pinches it the exact same way he’s watched you do it, immediately soothing it afterwards with his thumb and by rubbing his other hand up and down your side, sending little jolts of pleasure throughout your entire body.

His gaze is soft. Perhaps even a little expectant. He takes pride in making you feel good. “Like this? Is this how you want it?”

“Yes, oh, yes,” you utter, whimpering. When he smiles, it reminds you of the sun. “You’re perfect.”

Moments flit by, breaths intermingling. You’re unsure how much time has passed, but eventually you begin to squeeze your thighs around him, toes curling, orgasm approaching dangerously close. “D-Don’t stop, okay? I’m close, so don’t change a thing or else it’ll fade away.”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” he says. You throw your head back at this and he feels his heart dance because of it.

With his help, you let yourself go. Fully. Without shame and with zero remorse. And when you finally come for the first time from a man’s touch, no, your husband’s touch, it is so tender and passionate and powerful, that you can’t help but moan his name out in pure bliss and squeeze him so hard that you make him fill you up for a second time, helping him ease his desire even further.

In the end, you spend a small eternity wrapped in each other’s arms. Basking in the afterglow, stealing an occasional kiss, telling each other silly, unimportant things that you’ll think of fondly for years to come.

Only this time, however, your wonderful husband makes sure to touch you everywhere.

[ichigf]

୨୧﹕fem!reader, meg trying to find ur gspot

megumi’s fucking relentless when he wants to be.

you didn’t expect it—not from him. cool, quiet, closed-off. the kind of guy who mumbles through compliments, blushes if you so much as kiss his neck. but now? now he’s behind you on the bed, hands tight on your hips, chest damp with sweat, cock driving into your cunt at angles so precise it’s like he’s mapping you out with surgical intent.

except he hasn’t hit it yet.

he’s trying.

you can feel it in the way he keeps adjusting—sliding one knee forward, shifting your legs apart, reaching up to cup your tit while his other hand angles your hips higher. every thrust is different. measured. focused. calculated. he’s testing your body like a theory, chasing something he knows is there.

but you’re dazed.

whimpering, breathless, soaked and shaking, confused as fuck because every time you think he’s found it—fuck—he misses by a hair. it’s so close. the pleasure is blinding, but something inside is pulsing, begging, like a button he just hasn’t pushed yet.

he groans low behind you, voice hoarse and frustrated. “it’s in here,” he pants, like he’s talking to himself more than you. “i know it is—fuck, why can’t i—”

you mewl his name, back arching, your hands clawing at the sheets. “m-megumi, what—what’re you—f-fuck—”

“trying something,” he growls, and then—

then he grabs your hips, strong and firm, and lifts them slightly, angling your ass higher, tipping your pelvis up, bringing your cunt closer to him, tighter. he shifts forward, sinks deeper—

and hits it.

“fuck—!”

you scream. not a cute moan. not a gasp. a full-bodied, throat-shredding scream as your body convulses. your hands slap the mattress. your legs kick. your mouth falls open with a sob as something detonates inside you, pressure exploding.

then you squirt.

not a little trickle. not some delicate drip.

it gushes—loud, wet, uncontrollable—as megumi’s cock hits your g-spot dead-on and stays there, grinding into it while his grip on your hips keeps you locked in place.

his eyes widen, blown black, and he chokes out a groan that sounds like it’s dragged from the bottom of his lungs. “holy fuck—” his cock twitches hard inside you. “you—fucking squirted—”

you can’t speak. your voice is gone. your entire body is shaking, twitching under him, cunt spasming uncontrollably around his cock as slick pours out of you, soaking his thighs, the bed, everything.

“shit,” he pants, hips slamming forward again—same angle, same brutal grind—and you scream again, body lurching, nails digging into the mattress.

“you like that?” he hisses, his rhythm suddenly unhinged, frantic, chasing that spot with every thrust now. “that’s it, right there—fuck, i found it—look at you, fucking soaking me—”

“c-can’t—too much—megumi—!”

he doesn’t stop. not when you gush again, not when you sob and scream, not even when your legs shake like they might give out from under you. he holds you up, keeps that perfect angle, pounds your g-spot like it’s his fucking mission.

“you’re gonna cum like this,” he growls. “you’re gonna squirt all over me again. i want it. need it. give it to me.”

you break.

you cum harder than you ever have in your life, squirting again with a scream as your body collapses under him, mind blank, voice wrecked, thighs sticky and trembling.

[slvttyplum]

oct. 1. cockwarming: nanami

nanami went back to business and was tired of getting burnt out physically, so he just decided on being burnt out mentally, and what better way than with spreadsheets?

the late nights never left, though; whether he was a sorcerer or whether he worked as a regular salaryman or not, it was the same thing every day and then every night; he just never got away. 

he came home just to stay in his study and then come into the bedroom at the earliest two in the morning. 

nanami always came into the bedroom exhausted, but your presence calmed him down immediately, and that’s the feeling he’s always chasing these days. 

one night you came into his study just to check on him to see how things were going, and he looked tired like always, and you frowned. 

“you should really take a break.” nanami lifts his head to see you softly smiling in the doorway, and he pats his thigh. 

“come sit.” his eyes scan over your bare legs to your thighs, then to the way your nipples are peeking through your thin shirt. 

“what am i, a dog now?”

you scoff, walking over and plopping down on his thigh, and he moves you so that your back is to him and you’re sitting right over his crotch. 

“mm, do you want to be?” 

and you laugh, adjusting yourself, getting comfortable, and he kisses your neck, saying you smell good, and you smile. 

“are you trying to butter me up for something?” 

your hands are over one of his, which is on your stomach rubbing soft circles, and he continues to kiss your neck,, mumbling something, and you giggle because it tickles. 

“i want you close.” 

the way his voice vibrated against the side of your neck sent tingles down your spine, his other hand sliding off your shorts, and you move yourself so they come off easier. 

“all you have to do is slide down on it and stay; that’s all, okay?”

your eyes narrow suspiciously, and you laugh as he pulls himself out, cum already leaking from his tip, his finger hooking on the side of your panties, sliding them to the side. 

“so you want to just… do nothing?”

his hands rub up and down your sides, then he slides his hand to the front of you, rubbing over your clit, and you yelp in surprise, laughing, and nanami laughs, his hand going over his length as he lines himself up. 

“that’s exactly what i want you to do.”

nodding, he helps you slide down on it, and your breath catches, and he kisses your neck, easing you into it. 

“there you go. now just stay with me while i finish up some work.” 

it stays that way for about an hour, one hand still on your waist, his other writing things. then you start to tighten around him; the feeling of him keeping you full is just too much to just leave inside. 

the urge to move was muscle memory, and it’s aching at you, so you start to do it, subtly, your wetness coating him so much that it slowly starts to slide down onto his base, and he softly groans. 

“you’re moving, honey.” his voice is soft in your ear.

kissing your cheek to distract himself from how warm and wet you are, he thought he could get through it, but your body just won’t stop moving up and down. 

“I know… it feels too good.”

nanami adjusts himself and pushes deeper, and you moan, your head thrown back on his shoulder, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as he does it again. 

“stay still for me; you’re doing so good.” 

his hand slides from your stomach to your chest, lightly grazing your nipple, and that makes you clench more around him, and he groans. 

“just fuck me if you’re going to do it.”

teasing him while you move your hips a little more and he laughs into your neck, bucking his hips a little more. 

“let’s hold out for ten more minutes.”

five minutes in, he can’t take the clenching; it’s all too much, and he starts pushing into you, his hand sliding from your chest down to your hip, both his hands tight on your hips. 

“fuck, sweetheart, just… just like that, stay right there.”

his hands are so tight on your hips you yelp, your toes curling and you squirming in his lap, and he only bucks up more. 

“nanami, slow down, fuck!”

he didn’t even know why he tried; you always feel too good, especially the way you’re sliding on him and squeezing around him. 

There was no way in the deepest part of hell he was going to last two hours of you just sitting there all pretty, warm core, slick around him, dripping down, practically begging for it. 

he’s just giving you what you wanted. 

nanami stands, his dick still inside you, bending you over the desk, and you laugh, holding the edge of the table as he slides out slowly, then back in desperately. 

one hand on your hip, the other slapping your ass. 

the way your ass bounced off his hips and your moans and whimpers flowed through the room, he couldn’t keep holding back; you’re warm and soft. 

“f…fuck, baby!” your screams bounce off his desk along with his hips slapping and his hand, his hand grabbing your ass softly and letting out a groan. 

his body jolting a little, his cum leaking inside of you, and your orgasm making your legs lock up. 

nanami lets out a relieved sigh sitting down, taking you down with him, his dick still hard inside of you. 

his hand softly rubbing over your sides and kissing your neck, the both of you stay like that for a minute. 

“we can go again,” his voice vibrating against the side of your neck, and you laugh, squeezing his arm. 

🏷 list: @heliumshorns, @suguruuslut, @recispeices, @shokoshoe, @purpleheart835, @mattibuttface, @loudshortbookworm, @aporeudite, @kentosillygirl, @kgymya, @minzxec, @acrazybiotch374, @nnnomii, @truivne, @hopelissromantiq, @alinacoke, @tojiswifeforlife, @noyaswrld, @babybiird, @reiinsy, @ellayahhs, @whatever-the-fuck-i-dont-care, @verelace, @fanficlyssa, @ellayahhs, @kllrbunny, @nanamisbbygirl .

[an9els]

𝜗𝜚 nanami swore he’d keep things proper with the pretty baker next door. then he realized he couldn’t keep his dick soft around you . . .

it started with cookies.

well, no. it started with the new neighbor. tall. blond. built like a man who definitely didn’t need help moving boxes but did it anyway, sleeves rolled up, shirt slightly damp from the sun. you’d noticed him when you were watering your herb pots that morning. or more accurately, you’d noticed the little girl running around his front yard first, tiny and loud and dragging a stuffed bunny by one ear. she couldn’t have been older than six. and then he stepped out behind her, speaking gently, his voice low and smooth, not a single hair out of place despite the heat.

he didn’t smile, wave, or even glance in your direction.

which would’ve been fine, really. if you weren’t already covered in flour and halfway through baking for the café. you’d just pulled out a fresh batch of oatmeal cookies, perfectly golden, warm, and crispy around the edges. and of course, you were the kind of person who believed in being a good neighbor.

so you knocked on his door with a smile, tupperware clutched in both hands, wearing a ‘world’s okayest baker’ hoodie and a pair of fuzzy slippers because you didn’t expect to be judged for trying to be kind.

but he judged you anyway.

“hi,” you offered brightly when he answered, barely cracking the door open. “i live next door. thought i’d bring you guys something sweet.”

he looked at the cookies. then at you.

“thank you,” he said, polite but flat. “but we don’t eat much sugar.”

you blinked. “oh. well, your daughter might like—”

“i don’t let her eat things from strangers.”

you stood there for a beat too long.

then smiled again, tighter. “right. sure. yeah. that makes sense. wouldn’t want her to get.. poisoned or whatever.”

he nodded once and shut the door gently. you turned on your heel and stomped back to your kitchen, muttering under your breath.

“oh, we don’t eat sugar,” you mocked as you shoved a cookie in your mouth. “we don’t take things from strangers.” you opened your fridge too hard and a carton of eggs wobbled. “maybe your daughter would cry less if she had a goddamn chocolate chip for once.”

you weren’t mad. not really. just a little annoyed. okay, maybe salty, but only because the man had the audacity to look good and act like you were the problem. you tried to shrug it off.

except you kept seeing him. because well, he was your neighbor.

and worse: he was hot.

it was annoying.

he wore button-ups like they were tailored just for him. rolled his sleeves up when he mowed the lawn, muscles taut. when he jogged, his hair slicked back and his jaw clenched. you pretended not to look. he definitely didn’t look at you.

until he did.

the first time he offered to carry your groceries, you almost dropped them. he appeared out of nowhere, halfway down the steps of his porch, watching you struggle with two bags of flour and a carton of eggs. you hesitated, still a little wounded by cookiegate, but handed them over.

“sure. thanks.”

he still didn’t crack a smile. but he didn’t look annoyed either.

you told him your name as he followed you inside. he set the bags down on your counter and repeated it under his breath. it sounded good coming from him. stupidly good.

“i’m nanami kento.”

figures. of course his name was handsome..

he left after that, as quietly as he came. you stood in your kitchen, staring at the counter like an idiot.

you didn’t know it yet, but he was hard the entire time.

he hadn’t expected you to be barefoot on the tile, your shirt slipping lazily off one shoulder, and those tiny shorts clinging to your thighs as you bent slightly to open the fridge. the smell of cinnamon and sugar made his mouth water, but for something that wasn’t food.

he thought about you that night in the shower. tried not to, but he did. came faster than he meant to, head tilted back, biting down curses that sounded too much like your name. tried not to imagine the way your mouth would’ve looked around him— your tongue, your pretty little sounds. failed.

he told himself it would pass. it never did.

it only got worse.

he learned the hard way that he couldn’t keep his dick soft around you.

he was already halfway hard one morning when he walked out to grab the paper and saw you leaning out your window to shake a towel loose. your tank top barely covering anything as you waved at him, smiling. he waved back stiffly and went inside to jerk off with a disgusted sigh.

you were ruining him.

and you had no idea.

because you just kept showing up— dropping off extra banana bread, greeting his daughter with that soft, sweet smile, complimenting his tie one morning while licking strawberry jam off your fingers. you weren’t doing it on purpose, or maybe you were.

either way, it was a losing game.

“you always look at people’s hands like that?” he asked one day after he’d caught you staring longer than you should’ve.

“no,” you answered, wide-eyed. “they just.. stood out.”

he doesn’t even know what you meant by that. only that he had to excuse himself a minute later because he couldn’t walk around half-hard in his slacks with you standing five feet away in an apron and smirking.

he jerked off again that night. came so hard he almost blacked out, your name spilling from his lips between gasps. the guilt didn’t sink in until after.

and yet— he started opening the door more.

started waving first. started standing a little closer. you noticed, of course. and when you invited him to dinner one night after offering to bring over leftovers, he didn’t say no.

his daughter had already gone to sleep when he let you inside. you handed him a plastic container of curry with a sheepish grin. “i made too much.”

“so you’re a baker and a chef?”

“chef is generous,” you laughed. “i burn pasta all the time. but i can make you a mean sourdough!”

he didn’t laugh. but his mouth twitched. you considered that a win.

you stayed for dinner. then for the movie playing in his living room. it was quiet. just the two of you on the couch, the tv humming in the background, your head resting lazily against the cushion.

“kento,” you said after a while, voice soft, “why don’t you ever smile?”

he shrugged. “i do.”

“not around me.”

“i’m smiling now.”

“you’re not.”

“then maybe you should fix that.” he murmured.

your cheeks warmed. the room suddenly felt smaller. you shifted, knees brushing his. your hand landed on his thigh without thinking.

“you make it hard to behave.”

you looked up. “what?”

his eyes dropped to your mouth, then your chest. his jaw flexed.

“you know what you’re doing. all those looks. the touches. the cookies.”

“i was just being friendly.”

“you stare at my hands like you want them between your thighs.”

your breath hitched. he was still calm. still steady. but his voice was rough now, barely under control.

“you make me hard every damn day. i can’t sleep. i can’t think. all i see is you, walking around like you don’t even know what you’re doing to me.”

his hand slid under your jaw, thumb brushing your bottom lip.

“i want to make you mine. make you my wife. but first—” his voice dropped lower, eyes blazing, “—i need to see you fall apart.”

he kissed you. slow and deep, tongue teasing the corner of your mouth before claiming you fully. you moaned into it, fingers clawing at his shirt. he lifted you with ease, carried you down the hall, laid you on his bed like he’d fantasized about for weeks.

your clothes were gone in minutes. his followed.

his cock was thick, heavy, flushed dark and drooling against your stomach as he pressed in close, the heat of it made your whole body twitch, lashes fluttering up as he stared down at you.

“open your legs,” he said, voice dark. “let me see you.”

you obeyed without question, hips tilting. he groaned when he saw the mess between your folds, wet and sticky and so fucking needy.

“such a pretty girl,” he murmured, dragging his fingers through the slick that coats your pussy. “all this sweetness, and you give it to me.”

his mouth replaced his fingers without warning. tongue working you open slowly, then desperately, devouring your cunt like it’s his sole purpose in life. licking and sucking and spitting, loud and filthy, tongue flicking your clit until your moans go hoarse and your legs clamped around his shoulders, body arching into every suck.

two fingers stretched you open suddenly, thick and deep, curling hard against your walls. your fingers thread into his blond strands, tugging harshly.

“kento- f-fuck, ooh!”

“that’s it. give it to me, sweetheart.”

he doesn’t stop until your pussy’s soaked and twitching, clenching around nothing, dripping down your thighs and begging for more.

“need your cock,” you gasped. “please—”

he stood, dragging his hand over his cock, thumb swiping precum from the tip just to smear it down the shaft.

“oh, i know. you’ve been teasing me for weeks, haven’t you?”

he pressed the swollen head to your entrance, then paused.

“look at me.”

your eyes met his, wide and already glassy.

“i’ll take care of you.”

then he pushed in.

you cried out as he filled you inch by inch. he was big. way too big. your cunt struggled to take him, squeezing helplessly. he groaned above you, teeth gritted.

“fuck,” he hissed. “you’re so tight. so wet. you were made for this.”

your moans were nonstop when he starts to move. long, hard thrusts that leave you gasping. your legs wrapped tight around his waist, keeping him trapped. each drag of his cock hits delicously, you felt so full. stuffed so perfectly you could barely breathe.

“you want to be mine?” he whispered.

“yes- yes—!”

“you want this cock every night?”

“please- kento, i—!”

“then say it. say you want to be my wife.”

“i do. i want to be yours, i want it all.”

he fucks you harder than before after that. your thighs were shaking uncontrollably. he grabs one, bends your knee back, forces you open so wide he gets the perfect view of the creamy mess building up on his cock with every stroke.

“gonna fill you up,” he growled. “you’ll take it, won’t you?”

you nod. whimpering, walls fluttering. your cunt clenching so tight he curses, slamming in deep and staying there.

“you’ll look so pretty with my cum leaking out of you.”

he groaned into your neck as he empties inside, warm seed flooding your hole. you trembled beneath him, overstimulated and soaking. his chest presses to yours as he kiss your forehead softly, breath still ragged.

“mine.”

this is an old draft of mines and i rlly liked this concept n thought nanami was perfect for it :D i wanna start posting more for other characters soon so lmk who i should do in the future <3

[bttrflybb]

𝗇𝗈 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 .ᐟ ꮽ౿ variety. (18+)

contains: fem reader, dumbification (k), praise, edging, overstim, oral fixation, spit (s), marking, biting, prone bone (k), cunnilingus, finger fucking, gagging (s), aftercare

summary: naruto men and their discovery of kinks unlocked by you.

a/n: haha, this was supposed to have like 3 more characters . . . o well. part two at some point perhaps. thank you guys for the support so far <3

feat. iruka, shino, kakashi

IRUKA UMINO ⸝⸝ praise

iruka loves to make you feel good. it’s what he lives for, honestly. tasting you at the end of each night, the beginning of each day, in between if he begs. he’s shy about it, every time he recalls an intimate moment together he’s hiding behind his hands like it wasn’t him who did those things. he snaps out of the dazed pussy-drunk mindset he was in and puts up a front for some reason- like the post-nut clarity is too much for him and he just locks back in. you didn’t mind it, the sex was good, you just always had to remind him to not be so embarrassed all the time. it wasn’t like you were judging him. sometimes it just felt like he wanted more, or something else. like he was so close to requesting something or saying something but he didn’t know what he needed either. you wonder if it’s some response to being raised a shinobi, the suppression of some urges or wants that come with it.

things are steamy and the two of you slip into a semblance of routine you’ve established. irukas got you on your back while he gets you ready, lapping between your folds like he’s trying to drink water from a bowl. you swear, he knows the parts he sucks and licks at do nothing for you, he’s just that desperate to taste every bit- not let a drop go to waste. you lace your fingers in his loose hair and give the scalp they’re attached to the gentlest squeeze, eliciting a whine from the man below. oww, he doesn’t like it when you pull too hard. one eye shuts closed with a wince and he comes up for air, strings of saliva and you connect his jaw and your saturated cunt as follows the gentle pull upwards. “you don’ wan’ anymore? you ready?” he whines a bit. lust clearly clouds him, his words always slur when he’s feeling good with you- one of the things he’s always embarrassed about. you shake your head, “mm mm, want you to lick it good. know you can.” you huff. iruka really is great at head but again, he just gets carried away by his own desire. he flushes and looks away, nodding. “mm, mhm. m’ sorry.” he whispers, voice straining a bit. oh, did you hurt his feelings? you didn’t mean like that- he was doing a good job, you were just needy and didn’t want the teasing. quickly you push yourself up on an arm to cup the cheek he turned and refocus him to you. “don’t be sorry baby, m jus’ bein needy. feel so good, always make me feel so good- jus’ wan’ more.” you reassure him with a small laugh underlining your words. “m’ greedy. greedy for you.”

you want him to know he’s doing good. luckily, it looks like it’s worked. you can almost see his tail start to wag and his ears perk up at the acknowledgment and he nods with a cute little smile on his face. you can’t help but ruffle the top of his head as you settle back down and push him back to resume his work. “good boy” you moan as he starts, just for him to stop again. his eyes are locked on you when you lift your head back up to see what he stopped for. the grip his fingers hold between where your thighs and hips meet tightens and an embarrassed, shaky “mmmnn…” vibrates into your pussy. you put two and two together quickly and realize, he liked that. he really liked that. you giggle and the hand you’ve still got on him gives his scalp an encouraging nail-less scritch. “heha- good boy? you like that baby?” your voice is a bit hoarse and he moans again, knitting his eyebrows together and shutting them tight. you egg him on further, “c‘mon, you were doing so good honey, keep going f’r me. be a good boy.” you really like it too. iruka whimpers again and with a nod his mouth mounts the top of your pussy and he starts massaging the flat of his tongue against your clit. praises spill from your mouth the whole time and irukas reactions only intensify. he’s got his left arm rested over your abdomen, gripping your waist and his right working his two fingers into you while he abuses that pretty little bud.

before his dick is out he’s got you spilling around his mouth once. the sweltering heat of arousal dissipates and you refocus from your first climax to see iruka looking up at you with his head resting on your breast. he looks up at you expectedly, waiting for you to come down from your high and acknowledge him. whatever you say is yours. you cup his face once more and smile, “good boy baby, so good for me. make me feel so good.” you’re still panting and your words are shaky but true. that tone, that expression, all of it fuels iruka more than anything has before. his heart feels so full- he’s so happy he’s making you feel good, that's all he wants to do. this attitude iruka has taken up is affecting you too, clearly. he’s just so fucking cute you want to treat him like the sweetest dumbest little puppy. you coax his head up so he can kiss you and muster the strength to raise your jellified knees to his sides. the kiss is sloppy, iruka is so vocal- like every little thing is stimulating him in some way. when your tongue slides down his throat he lets it happen, letting his jaw go slack and you assault his mouth with yours all the while he’s panting out the lewdest whines. the two of you pull apart and he’s a mess above you, almost trembling. he’s a mess when you tell him to ditch the fishnet top he’s got on, when you tell him to free his cock from his boxers, when you tell him to line up the tip to your entrance, when you command him and praise him each time he obeys. he feels drunk, he’s so unbelievably aroused he might just cum the moment he puts the tip in.

you coax him through each movement like you’ve never been intimate before. slutty moans spill from his mouth every other second, he’s so overwhelmed- especially inside you. you’re soaked and each micro-movement has got him gritting his teeth as your wet warmth envelopes him. “ahh, pretty- fuck-ngh, hahh, ‘s good- you feel really good-ah,” he sings, voice crackling. you’re so wet there’s almost no friction for him to be held up by. his thrusts are unsteady but it’s the fact that he’s pulling out so far and shoving it back in with no resistance that’s killing you. a ring of white marks the base of his cock and he’s fucking into you at a slowly increasing pace, mouth agape and a constant flow of noise escaping him. “iruka- baby- fuck,” you cry, the assault on your insides picking up and catching you off guard. “fuck pretty boy, jus’ like that, so fucking good- so good inside me baby,” your voice hikes a couple pitches as you’re now getting fully pounded into with the help of his hands wrapping around your hips to pull you to his pelvis. warmth dribbles down your ass and your eyes roll at the vulgarity of it all- getting fucked so sloppy by your dog of a boyfriend. your hands search for something to grab at and you grip at his and whine out a “‘ruka baby,” to catch his attention. his eyes dart to you and he’s eager to give you what you need. you make grabby hands to indicate your neediness. you want him. iruka nods enthusiastically and shifts positions, hooking his hand underneath your knees and pushing them up out of the way so he can be closer chest-to-chest with you.

he’s focused on your blissed-out face and all he can think is how good he’s making you feel- he’s doing good, you told him so. he loves doing good. his eyes burn and he’s sniffling before he knows it- he feels too fucking good. a mix of a moan and a sob wracks his body and his head drops, his hair tickling your forehead now. you reach up to run your fingers through his hair and cup his face, forcing him to lock his eyes with yours. “iruka baby- god, don’t fuss pretty boy. fuckin’ me- so- good-“ you groan, voice unraveling at the end as he punctuates each of your words with a deep thrust. “m’ good.. m’ a good boy..” iruka chants, voice teetering on the edge. he switches his angle and releases one of your knees from the pin he had it in to sneak his hand down to your clit. “w’nna be good, w’nna make you cum..” iruka rumbles and you squeal at the pad making contact with your sensitive nub. “god- ‘ruka, so good-“ you mewl, starved for air as you’re quickly shoved towards your finish line. you hadn’t realized you were this close and you can barely get a word out before you’re reaching it. “g’nna cum ‘ruka, don’ stop baby, fuck- just like that, good boy-“ you chant and he quickly joins in. “cum for me, please, let me cum with you please, ‘m almost there.” he cries. with eyes locked and you gripping his face like he’s gonna slip away you quickly nod and beckon him to, “cum with me ‘ruka” and you’re both tensing around the other in seconds. irukas hips stutter before he buries all the way inside and your body goes taut as you curl into your climax. irukas so fucking loud in your ear, you didn’t think he could moan this loud. it’s not like you hold yourself back either, but seeing iruka so shameless and uninhibited makes you squeeze around him even harder.

by the time you regain the sense that was fucked out of you you realize irukas is back on your chest, arms dipped under your shoulders and holding you. your hand finds your way to his hair and you start to massage the top of his head. your other rests on his back, splayed out and rubbing up and down while you whisper praises to him. iruka whines and nuzzles closer in between your boobs, still fucked out.

the “embarrassment” never comes. when you get up to wash yourselves he sticks by your side and makes a sound of disapproval when he’s not skin to skin with you somehow for more than 5 seconds. when you’re settling back into bed he cuddles right back up to you and is unabashedly desperate for your warmth. “you’re cute.” “mm.” “super cute. i liked that a lot.” “mmmhn.” he nuzzles into your chest, radiating warmth into you. “…i did too. thank you.”

SHINO ABURAME ⸝⸝ spit, oral fixation

coaxing shino out of his shell took a bit, especially in your shared sex life. once he was out of it though, shino was a passionate lover. he could get a little lost in you, and a bit rough- but in the best way. he was just so eager and you felt too good. branching out from vanilla sex wasn’t discussed really, you had asked if he ever wanted to get rougher since that was usually the pace he fell into- fucking into you hard and getting a bit handsy, squeezing your boobs, nipping and sucking marks into your neck, chest and back. the ways in which you describe “rougher” aren’t so appealing to him though. he doesn’t want to hit you, doesn’t wanna hurt you. you don’t mind the rejections, they were just suggestions that you’d be down to try anyway. you’ve just always felt like there’s more behind that stoic face.

you were mid prep, instructed by shino to lay back against the headboard and play with yourself a bit while he undressed himself. you’re already easing a finger into yourself while you watch him take each article off. his forehead protector, his vest and undershirt, and his pants are all discarded into a pile. at the bottom is his signature hooded coat, hastily taken off earlier during the heated makeout session that had led you into the bedroom. one thing about shino was that he loved to kiss you. shino didn’t do pecks. if you were gonna kiss him, you had to make sure you gave him at least 5 minutes to get his fill of your mouth, and then that might turn into an hour with the boner he gets just from that.

shino turns back to you and the mattress dips on one side and then the other as he situates himself over top of you. slipping another finger in, you moan and he can’t help but take advantage of that pretty mouth. “keep going.” he instructs between light kisses before diving in and tonguing you down. you’re squirming underneath his assault, getting needier as he violates every inch of your mouth. after a few minutes of making out, you have an idea and use your other hand to push against his chest. spit chains the two of you together and you’re both panting and flushed. you wince a bit as you take your fingers out of yourself, needing a bit more lube as your body hasn’t caught up to your brain just yet. your fingers are still glistening otherwise and you lift them to your tongue, taking them both into your mouth and beginning to suck them clean. shino audibly moans at the action, goading you on while you spit and fuck them in and out of your mouth like a cock. at one point you go deep. deep enough to elicit the prettiest gargle around them and make you tear up at the intrusion in your throat- and shino is redder than ever. “fuck, so pretty.” the praise goes straight to your cunt and you hump up into nothing. shino is a man of few words but makes them count with you. shino lifts his right hand and spits in it before it makes its way to replace the empty space your cunt is crying out for to be filled and you squeal as he rubs circles into your sensitive nub. your fingers slip from your mouth and a trail of spit breaks off, leaking down your face and making a mess of you. shino hasn’t looked away from your mouth once, beginning the process of stretching your hole out around his one finger that’s going deeper and stretching you harder than your own two like his arm has a mind of its own. shino catches your open mouth and lolling tongue in a sloppy kiss, his saliva flooding into you like he’s starving and you are the one he’s going to devour. it’s so messy and you’re granted no break, eyes rolling back while he’s fingerfucking you open, thumbing your clit, and suffocating you with his tongue all at once.

by the time he’s seemingly had his fill mouthfucking you you’re plenty stretched, whining and bucking into nothing when he retracts his hand from your parts. “shino- please, wan’ you.” you pout and whine, squirming and kneading at whatever you can get your hands on. his bicep, his chest, his torso, his back. you don’t even realize the hand that was just making work of your insides is in front of your face until a command echoes above you. “clean them.” he says. your mouth opens and he leans further forward to insert them. you take them eagerly, moaning and slobbering as you taste yourself around his slender, smooth digits. shino audibly groans at the little show you’re putting on and starts moving them, fucking them into your throat like he just was in your other hole. you gurgle and gag around them, resigning yourself and letting him play with you this way. one particularly hard gag has him retracting them and praising you for how well you cleaned him up. funny, since now you’re a fucked out drooly mess. shino kisses your pretty tears away while you sniffle and catch your breath. some might view his treatment as a bit mean, but you’ve never felt more cared for under someone else’s watch. he is just wholly obsessed with you.

shino hums and leans back on his knees to get to work on his boxers. “turn around.” shino commands, and you’re on your chest with your ass up in a beat. shino loves this position. you pale in comparison to his height so he can easily pull you into a hug from behind and look down at your pretty face while you take him. as he lines up the tip with your entrance you brace for the intrusion. even with how stretched and wet you are, things can’t escalate so much just yet. shino is… big. even when he’s fully hard his cock fights gravity to stand up all the way. this position makes it easier to take him too. you hear him spit from behind and you tremble, finding it kind of too hot. the tip presses flush against your entrance and he leans forward, letting his cock enter as much as it can without moving his hips forward. this way you can both notice when the resistance starts and go from there. you take about half before he groans at the tightness and you whine at the sting. one arm is propped to hold himself up and the other is hooked around to the front of you and pulling you into his chest. his hand finds one of your breasts and he groans when he starts to knead at it. he loves these too. really, he loves each part of you (and is sure to remind you, especially when you can feel his cock throb as he gropes at you.)

the two of you settle into a steady rhythm and you’re sinking further and further into the pillow and duvet you’re fucking on top of. you’re fully relaxed taking him, his hands caressing and massaging each part of you only making it easier. your knees are close to giving out before you scoops you up, his right arm filling the pass between your breasts and a hand coming up to hold your jaw. you’re flush to his chest in an instant as he fucks up into you. you feel pathetic under his eyes in this newly compromising position. his other wraps around your tummy and he’s fully supporting you, taking on the burden your poor little body couldn’t handle. the ever-observant shino. your hands grasp for something to hold, first groping at your own breasts and then grabbing at the arm holding your chest up before shino cuts you off with something akin to a growl and he’s maneuvering his left arm, the one wrapped around your waist to restrain your two hands together and bring them to your hips as they resume their previous position. you’re helpless, and the two of you love it this way. you’re getting fully fucked wide now, warmth seeping down the inside of your thighs as he makes a mess of you. your jaw is slack and shino takes the opportunity to turn your head to the side slightly to slip his index inside your mouth and tug your cheek, exposing the blush inside with strings of saliva connecting the roof and floor. shino shudders and you catch a glimpse of his dark, murky eyes filled with something you can only compare to the look of a predator who’s finally caught its prey. you look so slutty. eyes glossed and hooded, mouth agape and a mess, strands of hair stuck to your forehead. shino catches you in a kiss once more, though short-lived to your surprise. you’re caught leaning forward into it and he breaks it, fingers slotted along your jawline and he’s steady for a moment. his lips purse and out comes a glob of spit, dripping from the apex of his tongue that flops from his own mouth. you’re desperate, embarrassingly so, and you strain upwards to catch it on your tongue before shino devours you once more. like a fish to bait. the both of you moan into the other, the depravity of your actions hitting you two like a high.

when you part you both sound like you’ve both been underwater for too long, a harmony of gasps, moans, and whines fills the air as shino fucks into you faster. your head lolls against his shoulder, clearly spent. everything’s a blur, you don’t even realize the shift your body is undergoing until the plush of the pillow is against your cheek again. your wrists are released and limply fall against the bed and shino adjusts his arms to focus on holding your ass up for him. he’s growling at this point, the two of you sticky with each other and all you can do is whine his name over and over again. it’s music to his ears, and it sounds even better when he slots a finger in your mouth. he doesn’t push it, he doesn’t move it, and you do nothing with it either, but the sound of slurred “‘inoo.. pleathe… hahh-, ngh… grk ahh.. ‘iiinooo..!” coming from you has got him falling apart “fuck- m’ close.. need you to cum, lovebug.” he falters. his right-hand shifts, focusing the weight on his arm to just his hand as he holds it right over where he’s hitting you inside. he snaps his hips downwards, abusing the bundle of nerves he finds till the feeling catches up to you and you sob. it doesn’t take much for that coil in your tummy to quickly build- you tremble but shino holds you steady like always. you are putting no effort into supporting yourself, all of it is focused on just keeping yourself awake. “‘thinooo… ‘ino-! hahh, n’ gonna cum ‘inoo-“ you panic with how fast your climax builds and hits you, your vision goes black as it wracks you in waves. shino is quick to follow, pumping you full as the thud of his balls hit your clit once- twice- three times as he finishes.

by the time you rouse from your sleep the warmth seeping between your legs is gone and your cheeks and chin are wiped clean. shino is at the edge of the bed slipping a shirt on before he turns with one in hand for you, halting when he realizes you’re up. it hadn’t been long. maybe 8 minutes- tops. sex is written across your body and face. the flush across your cheeks and nose and hair strewn and stuck to your skin, lips practically bruised they’re so pink.

“good morning, lovebug.” shino sighs, immediately making his way toward you from across the bed. all you can do is smile and croak out a “‘morninggg.” shino hides a laugh and you limply swat his chest. “‘s your fault.” you rasp, throat spent from the assault from earlier in the night. “i’m sorry pretty, you’re right. let me take care of you.” he dotes, moving the hair stuck to your forehead out of your face and trailing it down your chin. for a moment his thumb taps against your lips and trails down, catching the bottom one. like he’s admiring his work. you flush deeper and then quickly turn your head. “no. you devil.” you spit and he laughs, murmuring another apology between kisses on your neck as the two of you giggle. “it was good?” he asked after a small silence. “mhm. liked it a lot.” “good. me too.”

KAKASHI HATAKE ⸝⸝ dumbification

kakashi got on your nerves. you’ll be honest. the sex is fine- it’s good- okay, it’s really good. but for some reason, kakashi always doesn’t put much effort. he’s naturally good at it, but that doesn’t mean he shouldn’t try a little harder- maybe? maybe you’re just desperate. kakashi is obsessed with you, wholly. his associates tell you nothing otherwise. it’s always “kakashi kept bringing you up,” or “kakashi wouldn’t stop complaining about wanting to get back to you,” from them. you’re on his mind constantly from how they describe him, but why doesn’t he act like that to you?

in the beginning, you loved riding him, but now it’s all he requests. is he really just… lazy? you wonder. you wanna feel desired, you wanna feel… sexy. you two had only been together a year and some change, but had he fallen out of interest with you already? you recall a conversation with gai. mentions of kakashi past, the loss he’s endured. gai’s convinced that kakashi acts cool with you because he’s just as scared as you are. the two of you departed with the advice of, “be upfront with him! the two of you are still young and things are only just now blooming!”

a pit is in your stomach the entire night. you pray that your stupid plan doesn’t end up fucking you over. you knew kakashi would be home late tonight, but not this late. you were gonna coax him by flashing the fact that you were pantieless at him once he got home, but you’re splayed in bed waiting for any creak, woosh, or hinge noise to signal the fact that he’s home- and nothing comes. sleep tempts you but the wetness between your thighs overpowers it and you just can’t help but reach your hand down there. images of kakashi flash in your mind- kakashi doing things other than let you ride him while he grips your hips and whispers you dirty praises. you want him to fuck you. like, really fuck you. your brain is foggy with sleep and arousal and all you can think about is getting fucked this way, fucked until you have no semblance of composure anymore.

you’re inserting the second finger and muffling your own sounds with a pillow when you feel the mattress dip next to you. kakashis already stripped down to his sleeveless turtleneck, getting ready to take that off too when you rip your head out of the pillow and yelp. he doesn’t look at you. his back is facing towards you and you’re left petrified. kakashi lazily looks back at you with a smirk on his face. “watcha doin, pretty lady?”

kakashi hums and scooches his way next to you. you can’t get a word out- you’re trying to force something out but it’s just not working. “ahhh? you gonna tell me?” that fucking smile. he’s so annoying- how does he make you feel so good? “m’ touchin’,” you mumble. “missed you.” you admit, hopefully egging him on. “yeahhh girlie? thinkin’ about me?” he’s getting closer, lying right next to you. you nod and sink back down into the bed, laying flat and looking up at him from the pillow. “mhm.” you nod pathetically.

“what’s my girl wanna do? you wanna keep going for me? want my help, sweetheart?” kakashis hand finally meets you and you whine at the fingers combing through your hair and dragging along your back. “kakashi.” “yeah?” “i want you to fuck me.” he laughed. “i can do that.” “no, kakashi,” you grab the hand that’s leaving you and look up at him, now laying on your side completely naked in front of him, “i want you to fuck me. like take it all out on me. wan’ you to fuck me dumb,” you admitted. he's still for a moment and you scan his face for anything. a few seconds pass and his eyes narrow as his cheeks rise. you don't even need the mask off to see that stupid smile.

you’re bent over and your face is back in the pillow and the room is echoing with the lewdest sounds. kakashi’s got you cumming around his mouth once, slurping you relentlessly. he’s gripping your hips like you’re trying to run from him, keeping you in place while you squirm from the overstimulation. you’re weakly kicking and the flat of his tongue goes from your clit to your asshole a couple times, cleaning you up before he drops the hips he’s been holding up with a thud. you hadn’t even realized he’s been holding all your weight until you were lying flat and trembling before him. “that feel good, pretty girl?” kakashi's voice is gentle, so gentle it’s malicious. he maneuvers your limp body like it’s nothing, straightening your legs out and straddling your thighs from behind. all you can is weakly whine and moan, hazy from his overstimulation. “nngh.. mhmmm” you slurp. you’re drooling. kakashi laughs and leans over- cock rubbing against your ass while he’s got your jaw in a grip, forcing you to look up. “look at you baby, makin’ a mess.” he tuts, pulling you into a sloppy kiss. his dick is slotted between your asscheeks and you wiggle a bit while he kisses you, eliciting a deep groan into your mouth. “gotta watch yourself, pretty lady.” he’s warning you. “told you- wan’ you to fuck me stupid. i neeeeed it.” you whine, helplessly wiggling your legs. he’s gentle, so gentle. he caresses your pretty face and gives you a couple light paps on the cheek. your brain lights up at the mean stimulation. “i got you, sweet girl. i’ll give you just what you want, yeah?” it’s condescending, the way he’s speaking to you- and you eat it up, nodding enthusiastically.

he’s hitting you, so fucking deep- drilling his hips right into the bundle of nerves seated against the front of your pussy. your legs are slightly spread and bent so your toes graze his back every so often. warmth floods beneath you, “so wet f’r me, pretty lady.” he grunts out, leaving his mouth agape so you can hear the air leave his lungs with each thrust. “go-o-o-dd uhh, ka-ka-shiii.” you’re loud, vocalizing each time you feel him hit you, again and again. “hah, ‘s good baby? this is what you wanted right?” he groans each time he buries himself in you, so wet it’s getting all over him. strings of you connecting your ass and his pelvis each time he pulls out before sweetly shoving it back in and forcing a mewl out of you. “nghhh… m-hmmm..” you moan, eyes rolling into the back of your head. fingers knot in your hair and he lifts you up ever so slightly, his other hand leaving crescent-shaped marks on your ass that sting each time he swats you. “hah- mmm, don’t think you’re there just yet pretty lady, do you think so?” his head dips to yours, voice low- dripping like syrup from his sly little smile. “ngh- i- i- ahhh, ‘dun-nooo..” you wither beneath him and he drops your head and runs your hand down the nape of your neck. “yeah, not when you’re babbling like that baby. i’ll make you real dumb.” he taunts you. both hands grip your hips and push you down, ass arching up farther as he hits you deeper than before.

your head is fuzzy. you’re offered no recovery time as you clench around his cock repeatedly, practically getting forced to stay in your high. you weakly fight beneath him until he stills his cock inside you with a groan. “quit moving, lady.” he punctuates his command with another spank. a string of moans leave his mouth as his cock throbs inside you, edging himself while buried inside. one move and he just might spill. weak whimpers come from you and you’re finally allowed to catch your breath after your forcefully extended orgasm. kakashi pulls out of you swiftly and rolls you over, looking up and down your body with darkness in his eyes. he can’t stop smiling at you, not once has it slipped from his face throughout it all. you’re attacked by his hands, they feel like they’re all over you. time passes differently- is passing? you’re not sure was past or present. he’s slid back inside but holds steady while he plays with your pretty little self. your boobs, your waist, your hips, your thighs, then your pretty little face. he’s inches away from it and has got your chin in a grip, forcing you to look up at him. “my pretty lady in there?” he caresses you, eyes scanning for any hint that you’ve heard him. a ‘nnh’ comes from you, but nothing more. your eyebrows knit and you make the prettiest most pathetic expression up at him. “feeling good?” “mhm,” “you all done?” a frantic dismissal comes from you. your head lolls from side to side lazily, and he takes that as permission to start fucking into you again. you can handle this. you can take him. you makes sure to tell you, filthy words flooding your already fried senses.

tender words of praise spill from his mouth to keep you grounded with him. “doin so good lady. jus’ like that, you gottt it.“ your body is limp and your jaw is loose while you babble precious high-pitched ‘thank you’s’

“ah- haha, feel so fucking good, pretty girl. do you feel good?” he talks down to you. he won’t stop fucking laughing. you gurgle a response and he’s littering your face with kisses. “yea- that’s what i thought baby- fuck.” he’s so mean.

tears prick at the outside of your eyes and you whine, quickly being thumbed away as he caresses you. “you’re okay pretty girl- i know” his demeaning tone goes straight to your clit, increasingly sensitive as his shaft ever so slightly rubs against it each time he thrusts into you. his head drops a bit, “m close, pretty lady. hohh- fuuuckkkk.” he falters, hips stuttering as his climax approaches quickly. you barely hint that you’re about to hit your third until it’s crashing over you and you’re twitching beneath him. your body goes taught and your brain blurs with the breath you’re holding and kakashi lightly paps your face a bit, forcing you to look at him. “breathe pretty girl, you got it.” you tremble and a sob wracks your body as your lungs fill back up. “yeahhh, there’s my girl. good job, honey.” he trembles, “hohh, fuck.. so fucking good.” hot cum shoots out onto your tummy and kakashi is stroking the last few pumps out over the top of you and you whimper at the warmth.

you just want to pull him into you to cuddle, whining at his (very understandable) protests against it. you need to pee, he needs to clean you off, he needs to clean himself off. he also doesn’t feel it’s right to just let you pass out immediately afterward so with some genuine convincing and sweet talking you’re sat in a warm bath, wrapped around him while he holds you up. “you alright, pretty lady?” “mhm.” “c’mon, lemme hear it. wanna hear you tell me yourself.” he nudged his head against yours.

“feel good. feel really good.” “hah, yeah? that’s good baby. you did really good.” “mm. you feel good?” “‘course I do. you got me good me, girlie.”

[cunt-fangs]

My favourite kind of sex is just holy shit I want you so bad sex. The kind where you are both just so into it that there's no clear idea of who's in charge, just pure lust. So much tension that you just can't keep your hands off of one another, and the only thing you can both think about is how the other person tastes. It's so much chaos and I think about it so much <3