⭐️ amon?

i am extremely deranged.

[demonicafortress]

( 18+ ) — new writer. jiraiya x fem!blackreader

it shouldn’t have been like this.

not now, not later— not ever.

not even when he whined on his knees against thick ruby satin— or, when he poked around her jōnin background like an elderly creep. full of it, full of himself.

and it got to her.

the heated whispers against caramel skin, the gentle touches full of desperation and longing, the smell of alcohol that dampened his breath.

him.

“ y/n?” he mumbled, gently stroking her plump thigh. “ why are you so mean to an old man like me? i try to be soooo nice, so nice to a pretty little ninja like you?” the pearl — haired sannin whispered hazily, biting on his tongue like he was holding back a confession, an admittance of pure lust and passion.

his eyes? glossed out with perverted excitement, but, that quickly dispersed when you anxiously plucked his fingers off. “ nice try, jiraiya. but, we aren’t sleeping together.” he keened, leaning back like a upset puppy told to lay on his back.

“ and why not?” he preened, “ am i not your type, little one?” his words earning him a opportunity to lean in and kiss her shoulder, then, he trailed up to her neck, around her sweet little adam’s apple and nipping around her pierced earlobe.

“ what’s your type of man, angel?”

you smirked, patting his large shoulder with slight irritation, “ not you.” a lie. a lie as old as time.

fuck, he made you so wet he could practically smell the pathetic audacity on you. but would you stroke his ego by telling him? definitely not. not even. not even when his desperate, soft kisses came with the hardening of his bulge.

“ yeah?” he laughed, now persistently close, all in your space, caging in your pretty little body with determination. “ and why not me? why not big bad

jiraiya? hm y/n? i could treat you so well ya know?”

you hadn’t had time to complain, instead, the bare complaint of him was buried by the tasteless moans of your soft lips, he was getting harder by the second and you were melting.. his lips got hotter.. his scent got stronger… his built shoulders? looked delectable for climbing, but, no! you hated him right?

even when his tongue met your warm nape, even when, his large— aged hands met your hips and preciously tugged at the belt of your haori.

“ fuck— jiraiya, off!” you hissed sweetly, trying to fuss off his hands, to back him off, to quell his hunger for something off the menu..

“ one night. “ he purred, biting down on tender flesh, “ one night.. and i could make you feel so sweet, so sweet, angel.”

the room’s atmosphere grew thicker with anticipation, your face flushed with rosy enjoyment and he only had one look in his eyes: hunger.

the type of look a tiger gives a hunter.

that a starving man gives a bowl of ramen.

and right now? you weren’t in a position to deny a hungry man, when your soft panties wetted with slick.

“ yeah?” he grumbled, squeezing your love handles— and with a puff of air, you agreed. stupidly, you agreed.

“ okay, jiraiya. but quickly.”

which you should’ve known wouldn’t be quick.

…

as soon as you agreed upon letting a starving man, nonetheless, the literal pervy SAGE , ravish you— you didn’t know what to expect.

was he gentle? was he rough? did he make you wait for it?

however he was ideally, didn’t compare to the real thing. against the futon, he laid, belly — down against the heated floor and against your soft belly.

from what you knew— he had spent the last precious fifteen minutes kissing you, from the nape, from the neck, from the collarbones— and licking down the sides of your hips with a nip to the undercrease of your belly button.

a foolish man would’ve wasted his time getting his highly stubborn and dazzling subordinate—in bed, but jiraiya?

intensified the heat and made it worth waiting for.

his pupils dilated effortlessly as his warm tongue lapped against the pretty folds of your cunt, first, slow and teasing, puckering against the small sensitive surface of your clit— then moving to shovel his nose deeper into melting walls.

he was gentle, slow, cautious— every whimper that emitted from your voice, made him rut against the wool of the futon— and every growl against your cunt, made you wrap your fingers against the raggedy sides of his ponytail.

secure.

his face blushed daring pink— as tears welted in his drooping eyes, his tongue urged you closer to him as he poked around your wet, sopping hole and gently palmed your thigh with the sastifaction of a leper.

“ so good, honey.” he mumbled, eyes nearly rolling back as you carefully started to roll the toes of your foot into his clothed wood— “ so fucking good for me”, humming the taste of your slick around in his tastebuds. he was so big. so fucking big, it made you wonder why nobody had fucked him before?

you knew about him. the flirting. the outlandish comments about big boobs— the stalking his female counterparts who he found attractive. he was a creep.

but why was such a sexy creep on the verge of making you climax? and words went unspoken so soon when, he nipped and rolled his tongue against your aching appendage, making you squirt a watery mess on his face— and like a dog

like you KNEW he would— he drooled and slurped the shaking bit of fluids you released, earning him a firm slap against the cheek.

“ bad boy,” you quivered, slightly shaken and even more emboldened by his foreplay— “ did i say you could do that, pervy sage?”

but; what you didn’t expect is for him to groan, as if he had suddenly been possessed and taken over by the force of being disciplined: leaning into your hand like a boy wanting to apologize.

“ so.. mmm.. fucking sorry, miss?” he teared, now getting paddled by the soft side of your palm.

“ don’t apologize,” you gritted, now tightening your fist around his scraggly hair. “ own it. lay back and own your own promise.” you whispered, kissing the marks on his cheek.

and he listened. he moved you around and laid on his, removing his cushy shinobi tunic. under it? laid a soft white pair of undergarments, with his big cock straining the cup with pressure and dribbled precum.

“ poor jiraiya, did a jōnin appease you that much?” to which he nodded, now outwardly covering his face.

that didn’t stop you, instead you crouched over his leaning bulge: slowly… achingly.. dragging your sweet nude pussy over him.. feeling the delicious snag and twitch of him under you as he bit his headband. now breathing ragged.

“ please— fuck” he hissed, his left eye tweaking with promiscuity. “ y/n, please— I’ll be so good, I’ll be a good old man.”

“ yeah?” you giggled, now skillfully tugging down his boxer shorts— he was thick, heavy— so heavy and pent up that instead of standing straight, he ached and heated against his muscled abdomen.. and when you playfully squeezed his tip with your fingertips, he yelled out a sweet grunt and moan— before thrusting against you.

earning him another warning slap. “ easy—“ you grab his throat, “ i make the rules, understand, you asshole?” and he nodded, eagerly, so eagerly that you didn’t even realize he was lining his cock up with your soaked cunt.

“ gentle,” you nuzzled into his neck, biting slight sores onto his tanned jugular, “ super gentle—“

and he listened. super well. so well that even you started getting lost in his desperate thrusts and pathetic gaze— that even you licked the spit from the corner of his open lips and let him— batter into your needy cervix.

“ so good— I’m sorry,” he panted, now hugging your chest with sweaty hands as he rammed into your walls, stroking your g-spot and meeting your gracious little squeezes with force.

and you? you reclined. bounced along his lap and he melted against the sounds of skin, glamour and soft cotton mixing together. in your eyes, hearts— so when even bounce of yours met the scratch of his back, he shuttered and whined— shaking his head as he began to claw you off—

“ o-off fuck, off, princess!” but you? you didn’t even move a inch. instead, you slowed down the way you twisted down his veiny member.

“ poor baby, “ you had enough, hm?” you stroked the sticky bangs from out his eyes, “ too much for the big bad pervert?” you giggled, as you patted his cheek— just before squealing at the release of his warm cum.

“ j-jiraiya! “ you hissed, slapping his pec. to which he just keen, cum was everywhere, against you cunt, surrounding your thighs— his own clammy pelvis and chest. and his eyes? staary—

his voice? becoming slightly lower as he came down from his euphoric high— “ fuck princess,” he nuzzled your tits, “ im sorry.. fuck..” he panted, but you? you didn’t let him get in a break. instead before he could sit up.

you clutched his shoulders and proceeded to ride him cowgirl style— now meeting his overworked and throbbing member with frustration.

“ you jerk! you came before me! without permission!” you dug your pretty nails into his jaw once more before seeing him nearly ascend— grunts getting higher and higher with overstimulation.

you weren’t letting him rest, not after the first load, or the second, or even the third— not even when he begged and snuffled for you to get off.

not even when you finally collapsed during the early morning: covered in his cum, your fluids; drool and sweat— even then, you slept clenched around him, and with every turn and exhale, he hissed sleepily in your ear.

the pervy sage had met his match and it was with his very own enemy.

y/n.

[demonicafortress]

modern hero! eijiro kirishima x black!fem!chubby reader.

( feel free to comment what characters i should write for/more kinks!)

love you!

knks: faux sympathy, dacryphilla, brat!tamer x brat!, missionary, blowjob, breastplay/nipsuckling, humor. ( etc 🫡 - lazy)

…

nobody said living was a pro-hero was easy. but, living with pro-hero “ Red Riot” and being his most compassionate wife?

was a challenge.

a challenge on your precious spine from him taking you against a random wall; or when you bent over in a silky nightgown and his hardened hand patted against your tender ass. or most audaciously, when he thought he could run through sheets of well - done steaks accompanied with the savory kitsune udon it regularly gets paired with.

all in all, you spent 3 years with this man? and it never became easier, not in a bad way, but in a i’m-wrangling-a-large-manchild way.

and what he did now? he dragged blood from a tasteless villain inside your mopped floors— smug, tired and ready to layer on kisses you had half of all the mind to deny.

“ rocky!” you fumed, showing your wrath just by the distaste of his nickname— that was once so moaned sweetly against his wet nape, “ you’re trekking blood everywhere, you brute!”

“ woah cupcake!” he drawled, smoothing his dirt caked palm against his red spike and laughing, laughing, in your face, as if you cleaning the entire house— cooking him dinner— caring for his health was a JOKE.

“ kiri’s sorry, baby… super sorry, i was just—“ he whimpered, now coming against your small frame, trying to decide whether you kiss your face or pull you closer— which would make things inevitably worse.

but you? you weren’t having, instead you wagged a manicured nail in his face in spite and glared— “ but nothing! eijiro! go wash up and figure out where you’re going to sleep for the night! i told you about this!”

he paused: swallowing on his pride. he wasn’t some good looking villain anymore, he was just a demoted, devoted red hued husband who was condemned to his couch.

great.

“ can i at-least ask what’s for dinner?” he mumbled, sulking himself upstairs, “ GO. “ you growled, silencing his immature remark.

how dare he ask about dinner?

and how dare you have it prepared for your big, stupid, man. you were terrible.

…

(6:37)

“ so… dinner, baby?” eijiro muttered nervously, scratching the scab on his jawline.

“ here.” you scoffed, pettily sliding a plate of golden curry, fried tenderloin and rice over to him— watching as the hot liquid splashed against his cotton tee.

“ really y/n! real mature!” he scowled, licking the curry sauce off him, “ you wanna talk about mature? you got blood on my floors after i told you over and over NOT too!” you pointed at him, now bubbling up against with rage, and the slipping strap of your nightdress wasn’t helping.

especially, when his dark crimson irises suggestively fanned over the globes of your fat ( phat) breasts.

“ seriously cupcake! how many times does a man have to apologize to you about that? i was tired, i didn’t know you did so much.. work.” his tone frustrated and pissed.

sly.

and you raged, three years of marriage and you got this? a sly remark of thanks— condescending attitude and a bunch of excuses.

what a man!

“ have a great night, kirishima.” you thrusted your shining wedding ring against the design of the porcelain plate— leaving him gobsmacked and embarrassed.

“ wait—“ he panicked, leaving his chair like a man gone crazy, but by then? you’d already stomped up the stairs, swishing your bum like you were teasing a dog with a bone.

meaty little thing.

…

“ look, babycakes, i’m sorry, i’m real sorry. you are so perfect— so strong, and y-you do loads of work! you make sure i’m comfortable— and healthy— and that i have a clean place to come home to… you’re such a good little wife, lovie.” kirishima panted against your soft skin, pecking wet kisses and desperate mutt bites against your breastbone and peaks of your cleavage.

“ forgive me? please,” he whined, in your ears, eyes glazed, as you grabbed at the tips of his hair— grumbling to yourself about something, “ please, mommy? my love? baby?” he ragged it on, even teasing a nipple with his pierced tongue.

he knew you were a fool for the piercings he got back in highschool— when he was some coolheaded delinquent not interested in dating a sweetheart like you.

“ you know i hate you? right?” you mumbled, slowly slipping in content as he circled his tongue against your brown areolas; and suckled. staring you in the eyes, as he took in the soft mounds.

god, he was pretty. and his dick? prettier? he kept it low shaved, he was practically always rock solid around you— even when inconvenient and even worse? he did all the work.

even when you grabbed at his neck and bounced rhythmically, his big hands clasped around your hips; and he thrusted, hard. your tight, moist walls sucking him in like a sinkhole.

“ forgive me? baby?” he nuzzled, slick whines coming out as cherried, muffled and raspy— as he continued to suckle, lips releasing a wet “ FWICK” sound as he let go, juggling them with a grin.

“ bad boy…” you moaned sweetly, watching as he arose from his crouching position and kissing your mouth; then the side of your neck, then, your hands.

“ look at you.. so plump.. so perfect.” he licked his licks, squeezing your muffin top with greed, as he slid your baby blue nightdress down.

“ sooo fucking mouthy— cupcake.” he purred, watching as you yanked for his sweatpants; now pathetic, wide eyed and looking for some satisfaction.

“ i’ll break you— gods, i’ll break all of your sweet little self.. and then, rebuild you, sweet girl.”

he uttered, watching as you teetered with his sweatpants and boxers— before he hung. smooth shaven? the devil, it was like he knew he was getting some tonight.

ugh.

under you two: the bed creaked in a sympathetic manner— as he began to lay his weight over you, using his own spit to lube his cock over and over again—- hesitant on lining up with your pretty pussy.

“ mmmk— in, eijiro!” you kicked at his mid— back, heels now around his waist, “ in—“ you panted, and that he did, he wrapped his arms around your pretty head and released a dubious amount of sensual thrusts.

kissing the side of your face, he poked around you sweet spot— mumbling swear words, as your eyes rolled back and toes curled, watching as your boobs jumped up and down from the sheer passion of his love.

“ good, brat? not so mouthy now, huh?” he chortled, slightly pausing when he heard the silent squelch of your tight hole—

meanwhile you? you creamed against him, tirelessly, scratching his back as he pounded you— on and through the foamy mattress.

“ good?” he rasped, pulling a pillow underneath your head as you nodded rapidly, viscerally shaking as he started to stimulate your clit muscle.

“ so good—“ she trembled, patting his back with eagerness, you were lost in bliss— in the sauce as he so humorously commented, and because this man, this large backed man was knocking against your cervix with precision.

breathing in stars and hormonal fumes.

“ close?” he mocked, mumbling against your soft lips, and you only could keen— head rolling softly as clenched around his hard cock and he fucked up into you.

“ so close—“ you yelped, feeling him drag again your walls and bite your neck.

an explosion, literally. when he knocked you, you squirted against his fat dick, panting and squirming like a fish out of water— and he just smirked, spanking your pretty ass and gently stroking to ease your orgasm.

sending your legs into a spiral of relax and slight tremor— and after your eyes knocked back into your skull, he pulled out, patting your forehead.

but you weren’t done, instead you, huffed relentlessly, crawling in between his legs as he flipped and beginning to stroke him languidly.

“ baby?” he chuckled, panting slightly but you refused to feed into his confusion— instead you? you began to slobber on his drooly length.

licking up against the pulsing vein, swirling against his pink mushroom tip and stroking his brown shaft, alternating between gagging against him and staring him in the eyes?

and his eyes? phased upwards in the heavens, grabbing your full braids into one big palm before dictating how you sucked him. pulling up and down.. slowly.. and then throatfucking you, until you patted his thigh or until— he got overstimulated and pulled you up.

leaving spit and length against him, as you lapped at his heavy balls— and ran kisses against you stubbled pelvis.. and when you kissed the sensitive underside of his cock?

he splattered. leaving his cum against your breasts and against your nose and lips.

payback is a dog.

but, he was your husband.

red riot.

[demonicafortress]

thank you all for reading my last post!

feel free to comment suggestions/characters/dynamics i should write for! <3

( new writer)

…

(wlw smut )

any ( that you have in mind) dom!fem professor ( bottom) x top!sub masc student.

— — — —

time in a classroom that smelt like the gentle flesh of tulips; fresh white linen, and an exotic blend of dark — roasted coffee ground(s) in a heated mug smelt pathetic and stale in the lips of a frustrated person like you.

especially when, each little betrayal of the scent came from a dazzling matured redhead who currently stood bent over her whiteboard; as she tweeted about some agonizingly boring theorem.

and that to you?

was hell to someone that yearned for a professor like her?

but, why her?

maybe it was the way her translucent pantyhose pinched at the back of her lithe thighs— or just maybe— it was the terribly aching way she huffed when her tongue slid between her carmine tinted lips, when she couldn’t figure out why her fingers weren’t writing out the same equation that her pretty little mind was computing.

but, truth be told— it didn’t particularly matter, whether or not, you thought your own math professor was insanely attractive, because you— something queer of a 5’9 happy—go—lucky stoner from Illinois, had no chance with her.

from what you had heard across the way: she was 44 with two divorces and 2 kids? from others in Boston? 39 with 1 preteen son and a crazy ex - boyfriend. but, whatever the case was— you were dead set that you DIDNT have a chance with her. not even in your dreams.

your very provocative dreams.

so? when she strutted to your desk, lip taken under a pretty set of front teeth, you froze dramatically.

“Y/N?” she purred, seductive and carry— you could swear one more inch further and you could land your chin right into her voluptuous pale breasts. “ it seems you’ve gotten.. a little distracted? may you answer question 12?” she smirked, now playing with a vein on your arm.

fuck. double fuck. and why did she smell so good?

“ excuse me?” you bellowed: sounding slightly anxious and pissed at the same time, “ what do you want me to do, miss?”

she plucked your forearm with haste—

“ the board, Y/N— use that smart little noggin on yours and please—- please..” she drawled, sounding moist and warm— “ answer this geometric question with Ceva’s theorem.”

“ if you can’t, that’ll be detention, this is college, not pre - K. Y/N.” she was being snarky— blatantly snarky, wielding the chalk stick like suddenly you were going to suddenly become the worlds smartest mathematician.

and? part of you wanted to kiss the smirk off her face, the other? wanted to rot in embarrassment.

what if you just spent class actually in your textbook and not brain deep into her boobs or the risqué crease of her vagina? creep.

luckily, some brunette guy— from the further row behind you decided to speak up and take the chalk from you— ranting about how the problem was “ easy” and “ not complicated”— dork. but, her eyes trailed only back to you— and with a languid sigh, she motioned to the detention plaque on the wall.

two hours in a room with her?

someone as terribly stunning as her?

fuck. super fuck.

————

1900/7:00 (PM)

“ Y/N?” she crowed, standing in-front of your awkward— lanky body with a displeased frown and crossed eyes.

“ i’m disappointed in my favorite student,” she pouted— red acrylics trailing down my forearm and teasing the fabric of my hollister polo— “ i thought you were soooooo… smart? hm? what happened to my genius?”

you only stared at her, swallowing as her touches got more needier and intense.

“ how can you make it up to me? hm? to your favorite professor…” she whined, now taking your large hands and wrapping it securely around her waist.

your heart drummed against your chest— she felt this? soft? small? she barely felt like she weighed anything at all? but it wasn’t shocking, the goddess rarely ate anything that wasn’t greek yogurt, kale-and-salmon salads and dark roast.

so this? it felt like heaven. especially, when her arms came to wrap around your neck like a warm blanket.

“ ma’am,” you hissed— extremely turned on from the lack of distance, “ i need you to think about this.” you stupidly whimpered, you had a chance to shag your favorite teacher and now you were arguing ethics?

“ i’m not a idiot—- Y/N, i’m a scholar, a woman in need, “ she tugged at the scraggly strands of your curls, “ now shut up and do as you’re told: you’re much cuter silent, dog.”

and that you did, instead of squirming or fighting your body— your muscles weakened under her grasp, other the soft, slick kisses that she wasted down your neck and to your collarbones.

and fiesty she was— every tiny lovebite left a ( purpling) crimson bruise against your inked skin like you’d been attacked by a dog and not a woman who aged like fine wine. and as she got lower? you got louder, desperate, squeezing her hips and gently grinding her back into her oak desk.

“ ma’am,” you snarled wryly— now fighting your eyes from closing, “ let me take of you.. please?” you glared at her with glossed over eyes, and to your surprise she let up and allowed you, clutching your shoulders like handlebars as you pinned her against her table.

“ eat up, little one.” she giggled, stroking your face as you shoved off her pantyhose— and groveled in the warm breeze of her slicked panties..

if she wanted to tease? you’d tease.. and that became clear to her; when you rolled the small zipper of your jeans against her wet core— shivering over the warm sounds of her moans.

“ feel good?” you murmured, sliding her stretchy hair-tie off and around from her ginger locks. leaving her nodding and grasping at the air, as you became to mouth kisses over her breasts.

“baby blue bra? lingerie? how naughty of you.” you spanked against the fat of her thighs, suckling against her breasts and nuzzling the valley between the peaks, “ you— twat,” she scoffed, now fisting your curls back again and trying to rock against your slow grind.

“ be a good girl,” you mocked— “ a good little professor,” watching as she nearly licked her dark lipstick off in spite, eyes wrenched close and her eyelashes fluttering at your demand.

then, you peeled off her wet panties. marveling in the fact that her skimpy little pussy was happy to see YOU out of all people— a single student who barely understood the words that came out of her sexy little mouth half the time.

and boy, when you saw how she shriveled when you blew air onto her core? you dwelled in her taste, she was sweet— aromatic like vanilla and musk from a long shift of walking, meanwhile from above? she mewled and wiggled.

“ easy brat!” she whined carelessly, hissing when you teasingly rolled the bulk of your tongue against the pretty rosy tinted bud of her clit— “ i run this, o-okay?” she flustered, nearly screeching as you poked into her wet hole— licking around her walls and using her slick to soak your fingers.

“ fingers or no fingers? answer quickly.” you pressed, now rubbing her clit in a circular motion filled with passion and enthusiasm, “ whiny woman,” you spat.

and that? made her gush. breathing heavily, she nodded to the poking around your fingers— and you agreed, coaxing your pointer finger and index finger into her hole— and pressing around for her squishy g-spot.

behind her? you pushed her against the very stack of homework papers; continuing your brutal tongue & finger assault.

“ o-oh, Y/N! you te-terror.” she shrieked, whimpering and shaking all over the place… just before releasing against the lower section of your face— around you mouth, down your collar— messy diva.

“ easy,” you chuckled— patting her shaking thigh and resting your forehead on her panting face before smooching her neck.

“ rest okay?” you gently pressed gentle kisses down her stomach as you slipped up her panties and rolled her skirt down against her thigh.

“ it’s no point if I’m shaking like a deranged woman,” she frowned— slightly amused by your competitive attitude when it came to sex.

“ deranged? no. spoiled? yes.” you chuckled; sitting her up and leaning her against your broad body.

were you happy you got to fuck your favorite teacher?

definitely.

did this also mean another round of corrections in class tomorrow?

definitely.

did you mind?

nope.