best friend!pieck whose had the biggest crush on you for the absolute longest, and has not shied away from making it obvious. showering you in compliments that only slightly toe the line between friendship and something else. “that skirt looks so good on you.” or “you look so pretty today, i’d kiss you if i could.”
best friend!pieck who’ll occasionally send you her nudes under the guise of “would this be okay to send to him?” but there isn’t a him. she just gets so turned on at the thought of you seeing her like that; rolling her pretty pink nipples between her manicured fingers or her with her thick ass pushed into a deep arch.
best friend!pieck who can’t cum the way she needs to without lewd thoughts of you swimming thru her head :( her pushing your knees up to your chest as she she slaps the tip of her strap on your clit, bringing your bare, soaked pussy down to her face so you can ride it, or teasing you with a fleshlight 😖
best friend!pieck who actually dreams of what it’d feel like to have you suck on her nipples. to hold a firm grip on your jaw as you roll the pebbled buds between your teeth.
best friend!pieck who you think hates every boyfriend you’ve ever had because they aren’t good enough for you. but it’s actually just poorly managed jealousy.
Can’t stop thinking about being pro hero Uravity’s pretty girlfriend. She’s just so. So. Aghhh I’m going to explode. She’s just so wonderful and kind and strong and sweet and would treat you so right.
mild nsfw
Sure, being a hero means she’s busy much of the time, between patrolling and missions and paper work, but when she comes home at the end of a long day? She is all yours. Absolute putty in your hands. She loves you so much, so when you hug her when she walks through the door and give her a kiss and cup her face in your hands? She melts. The exhaustion from her day practically melts away, giving her a second wind just to love on you.
You’ll end up collapsed on the couch, one on top of the other, ordering shitty take out while she vents about her day with a show neither of you care about droning on in the background. The domesticity is so sweet it’s painful, just helping her wind down. Running a hand up and down her back with her head on your chest while your other finds it’s way between her thighs, knowing just how to get her to relax... All she can think about as you undress her is how much she wants to propose to you.
Ochako just is so in love with you. Have you heard about her girlfriend? Her wonderful, beautiful girlfriend? She's the best. Just so smart and skilled and talented. She's the reason she even gets up in the morning. The absolute light of her life. Her baby. There are so many pictures circulating online of her looking at you like you hung the stars. Her friends tease her about it and she just smiles because she's thinking about you.
She just wants to give you the best life possible. Make sure you live a life never having to worry about anything. She's got money now, let her spoil you a little. And she's gives the best hugs. That's not an argument. She's soft and chubby and underneath that fat is pure muscle. She can pick you up and spin you around and carry you like the princess you are. She makes me sick. I want her in my mouth.
[This fic is part of the kinktober ficsforgaza event organized by @ficsforgaza]
“It healed already! :)
I will be reporting for duty tomorrow, so sleep well tonight! All your mail will be sorted before you get to office! (✿^‿^)”
[image attachment]
Times like this, Uraraka is grateful for her quirk. Her phone would've hit the ground otherwise.
If it wasn't for the text message, Uraraka would've thought you meant to send the image to someone else.
That's not to say she doesn't like it. She loves it. You're sitting on top of your dresser with your left leg held up to your chest. You're smiling from ear to ear while pointing at your inner thigh where your 20 stitches had been. Apart from the loose t-shirt, which barely hides your chest from that angle, you're bare in the picture.
You sent her an almost nude.
She grabs her floating phone and lays on the bed to calm herself. You only meant to show her your healed gash. The bare thighs were a necessity! It'd be weird if you sent her a picture of your inner thighs from a closer angle. She wouldn't see your adorable smile or your chest otherwise. But, a closer shot would've showed her your...
Gah! She slams her face in her pillow at the thought that crossed her mind.
No! I will not think of my secretary like that!
She looks at your picture again, eyes glazing over when she notices that the color of your shirt matches her pillowcase...
Before she can think better of it, her body moves on its own. Her clothes come off in hasty movements, then she brings the pillow down between her legs.
So pretty, so cute. Wish i could touch the scar on your thigh.
Thoughts of you drown out any voice or reason. Her thighs squeeze around the soft lump thinking of your thigh instead. She can almost feel your softness, can almost hear what you'd say to her when you'd feel the mess she'd make on your skin.
Her hips rock in a steady pace, making her soft folds rub onto the edges of the pillow. She looks at your face now, the face she's thought about riding a million times over. She thinks about your tongue on her lips.
Oh, yes! So warm and pretty, pretty, pretty-
Another message from you interrupts her thoughts for a moment.
(;ŏ﹏ŏ)
Uraraka-san, am I about to receive another long paragh with you scolding me?
[Video attachment]
For better or for worse, Uraraka plays the video.
It begins with you placing the camera down somewhere and walking away from it until your whole body is visible.
“Uraraka-san! I'm fine! See?” you're wearing the same flimsy t-shirt. It's long enough for her to wonder if you've anything on under it.
“No stitches here,” you sit down on your bed, “or here,” and spread your legs to show her your inner thigh.
You go on for a while but Uraraka had lost herself the moment you sat down and showed her what she'd been thinking about. Her legs tighten around the cheap imitation of your body under her body while her hips grind into it faster than before. The very second she hears you call her name again, she comes with a squeal.
Your video plays in the background as she comes off of her high still recalling what she saw. She lays on her back and types in a reply.
Show me in person tomorrow
She plays your video again and her hands reach out to her pillow again. She doubts she's going to sleep at all tonight after seeing you wear Uravity merch underwear.
Note:Hey everyone, if you can see this my account is currently under review so for now, you can find me on my spam @lovelywyenn !!! So please go follow and give me lots of love this October;)
★Hashira x fem!HashiraReader★
How the Hashira act when they see how shy their pretty girl is when it comes to sex. Except for Muichiro Ofc, I'm not a weirdo.
★Obanai Iguro★
Your whole life had been dedicated to training. Every second of your life was focused on becoming the highest rank a Demon slayer could achieve, Hashira Status. And when you finally achieved that, your dedication to the craft was what drew the serpent Hashira to you. He admired your attitude, your strength, the way you held yourself. Your confidence was truthfully sexy to him. Which is why, during times like this, when you had your back pressed against Obanai's front, his legs pinning your own down. One of his slender fingers toying with your clit expertly. Yet, not a sound was leaving you. You did this often, staying quiet when he made you feel good. And he didn't like it. Not one bit
It felt like Obanai had been toying with you for hours when it had really only been half of one. His fingers pinched and prodded at your clit in a way that had your back arching and head rolling back against his shoulder. You had been doing a good job at keeping your moans in, holding your bottom lip tight between your teeth. But you couldn’t help the small whine that left you when Obanai pulled his hand away from your wet slit, bringing them up to your mouth. You obediently suckled on them the way he liked as he opened his mouth to talk to you.
“Tell me doll, am I not making you feel good?” your boyfriend asks you, and you’re quick to answer him when he pulls his lengthy digits from your lips, “Of course you make me feel good, you always make me feel good. Why do you think you don’t”?”You ask, turning to look up at him.
“You’re awfully quiet, ”he answers, “Partners tend to be vocal during times like this”.
You sigh, looking away from him, “I-I know, but Obanai…I’m too vocal” you say, “I’m really loud and I don’t want to turn you off,” You tell him honestly. Obanai tuts at your words, his free hand grabbing your chin to make you look at him again, “I like it when you make noise, I want you to be loud” he says, wet hand wandering back down your body to tap his index finger against your clit.
On instinct, you bite your lip to keep your moan in and he rolls his eyes. His fingers glide down to your dripping entrance, fingers sliding in with ease. You can’t help the way you moan as the limbs curl deeply inside of you, stroking that special spot that had you seeing stars. His smile grew the more vocal you got. You were right, you were loud. So loud, the sounds in the room right now were borderline pornographic. Obanai presses a wet kiss to your neck, silently praising you for your newfound confidence.
“That’s my girl, let me hear how good I make you feel”.
★Mitsuri Kanroji★
Mitsuri is definitely a bottom. And you love giving fucking her, making your pretty, sensitive girl feel good. But in the rare times, Mitsuri would take charge in the bedroom. You always got...nervous. You couldn't relax, couldn't just sit and feel the pleasure she was giving you. And Mitsuri Noticed, she noticed everything when it came to you. She thought that after a while, you would learn to relax, to take what she was giving you and let yourself enjoy it. But no matter how many times she got between your legs, you never relaxed. Not even now, when she was suckling on your clit, fingers tweaking with your nipples were you able to relax.
When your girlfriend's lips unlatched from your clit, you looked down at her. She moved to sit on her knees in front of you. Her soft hands pushed your legs to your chest, softly stroking over your thighs. “Mitsuri?” you call, “Did I do something wrong-”
“Why won’t you relax for me sweet thing?” she asks you, “You think I won’t take care of her?”
Her eyes don’t meet yours, focusing on the twitching of your cunt. You were soaked, slick dripping down your thighs messily. But you were just so tense.
“Talk to me” she urged, “why can’t you relax, hmm?
You sigh softly as you talk to her, “I don’t know…you make me nervous I guess” you tell Mitsuri. “How am I supposed to relax when the love of your life is eating you out so well you feel like you’re gonna pass out. I just don’t want to do anything embarrassing…something that throws you off” you ramble.
Mitsuri Chuckles lightly, “I let myself enjoy you all the time. I thrash and I moan, and it doesn’t throw you off right?” you nod as she keeps talking, “Trust me, baby, it feels so much better when you let yourself feel it,” she tells you. Her gentle hands stroke up your body, comfortingly massaging your shoulders, the flesh of your tits, and the dip of your hips until she felt the tension dissipating from your body. “There we go”, she says softly, pressing wet kisses down your abdomen until she was in front of your sopping core, “Just relax and let me kiss this pretty cunt” she told you, settling on her stomach between your legs.
Of course, your girlfriend was right. Relaxing really made the experience ten times more heavenly. You closed your eyes, letting yourself focus on how her tongue felt against you. She always started slow, licking from your entrance to the bottom of your clit before all her attention was focused on your clit. The way she suckled on it had your eyebrows pinched together in pleasure. It felt like your body was on fire, your thighs twitching the harder she sucked, her tongue flicking at your clit. Whimpers and whines filled the air as your hand slid through Mitsuri’s hair, pulling her impossibly closer. Hips humping up into her mouth.
With pleasure so intense, it wasn’t a surprise that you came with the same intensity. A cry leaving your lips as Mitsuri licked at the juices that spurted out of you. Working you through it. When you were calmed down, and your breathing was even again, Mitsuri plucked herself away from your slit, sitting up to look into your fucked out eyes. She wiped away the wetness dripping down her chin with a satisfied smile on her face.
“I told you it’d feel better”
★Sanemi Shinazugawa★
Everybody knows Sanemi's a freak. Like, bro is an absolute fiend, I mean he'll do anything anywhere, he does NOT care. So that was why EVERYBODY was confused when Sanemi fell for you. You were a new Hashira, soft-spoken, kind, delicate. Almost the exact opposite of Sanemi. But he loved you and you loved him too. Even the side of him that was a little taboo. But what Sanemi didn't know, was his sweet girl was a little worse than him
You had just come back from a long mission, having defeated a lower moon demon all on your lonesome with barely a scratch on you. So of course your boyfriend had to take you down to the entertainment district to celebrate. Taking you to your favorite restaurant, buying you expensive wine and anything off the menu you wanted.
As the night mellowed out, plates cleared, the two of you left with half a bottle of wine on the table, sipping and giggling with each other like you always did. Things took a turn when Sanemi mentioned how much he had missed you while you were gone.
“I’m proud of you, y’know,” Sanemi said to you, “My girl’s strong as hell” he praised.
You blush at his compliment, a small“Thank you, baby” leaving your lips. Sanemi reaches down to grasp your hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it. “I mean it really, but I hate when you leave me here all by myself” he mutters, pressing another kiss to your palm, softly pressing them down your arm.
“Sanemi,” You say, trying to sound scolding, but your voice is far too soft for that “We’re in public!”
He nods, rolling his eyes, “And has that ever stopped us before?”
“It’s never stopped you before,” You say, shaking your head. “C’mon Mama, I saw an office in the back…it’s empty,” he says, hoping to convince you to join him. “Please” he pleaded, “You really gonna make me walk out of here with a hard-on?” he said.
You rolled your eyes, sliding out of your chair and dragging him along when you saw no one was watching. You stomped to the back and Sanemi pulled open the empty office door, shutting it behind the two of you.
He’s quick to grab your hips, gently backing you against the door. His hands trail down to the back of your thighs, hiking you up to his height. Your hands easily roll around his neck, looking into his eyes. Being held like this, you could feel how hard he was, his cock snug against your clothed cunt. “How are you this hard already, nothing we talked about during dinner was even remotely sexual” you spoke.
You let out a soft whine when Sanemi doesn’t answer you, instead pressing a kiss to your lips, “Couldn’t stop thinking about my girl, how soft you are, how good you feel” he breathed, pressing another rough kiss to your lips. You kissed him back, having learned to kiss him with the same intensity. Even though you missed this, you pulled away from the kiss worry taking over you.
“Baby, really, we should wait till we get home” You moan as his rough kisses trail down your neck, his hands move to pull you flush against him. You can’t help the way your hips press a little harder against his erection.
“You sure?” he asks you, his own hips pressing harder into your cunt, making you stutter as you answered him. “I’m just worried about g-getting caught” you whimper.
Sanemi suddenly puts you down, spinning your body around so your face is pressed against the door. His large hands pressing your back into an arch. He was quick to unbuckle his pants, pulling his cock out of his pants. He bunched your dress up around your hips, pulling the wet fabric of your underwear to the side. His fingers plunged into your cunt and you moan loudly. Sanemi’s free fingers drag in your mouth, “You're makin too much noise woman, quiet down” he growls in your ears.
You try your best to stay quiet as your boyfriend fingers you. Your cunt was soaked, squelching sounds filling up the room. Sanemi’s cock twitched when he heard the moan you let out when he curled his fingers. But that wasn’t the only thing he heard, and you heard it too.
Voices. Voices and footsteps coming farther in your direction.
You panicked looking back at Sanemi who seemed to be enjoying this. He spotted a closet beside the desk in the room and he gently walked you towards it, closing the closet door behind him, pulling his fingers out of you.
Sighing in relief, you tried your best to be quiet when you heard two people enter the room. You could feel embarrassment curl up your neck. Growing worse when Sanemi lined himself up with your entrance and pushed himself inside. You let out a squeak, looking back at Sanemi in the dimly lit closet. “Wait, Sanemi, wait- they’re gonna hear us!” you whine, trying to warn him.
“No they won’t baby girl, just be quiet for me,” he says hips jutting into you. It was embarrassing, how wet you were. It didn’t concern Sanemi at first, you were always wet. But this was different, arousal was sticking along his abdomen, dripping onto the floor beneath the two of you.
He knew he made you feel good, but this was different. And he didn’t understand why until the noises your sloppy cunt was making, were being picked up by the two people in the room. Hearing that they could hear you made you whimper a little too loudly, Sanemi started to worry that the two of you really would get caught.
His hand covered your mouth, dragging your head against his shoulder. “Baby shhhh, you have to be quiet” he whispers but you keep moaning as if people weren’t in the room with you, “God Mama, s’like you want them to hear you or something”
And when you clench around his cock he finally realizes why his shy girl was so vocal all of a sudden. “Oh you dirty girl, you want them to hear us don’t you?” he whispers, speeding up his hips. You groaned as he pounded into you harder, turning you to look at him “Yeah you do Mama, this sloppy cunt says it all” he speaks. You glance away, embarrassment filling you now that the truth has been revealed.
Sanemi shakes his head, “Nah baby don’t get shy now, s’too late for that”
“No need to hide how filthy you are from me”
★Gyomei Himejima★
Life as a Hashira didn't leave a lot of time for romance, the most you had time for was a quick fuck. And that's what you were used to, fucking guys who were looking for the same thing you were. Pleasure. But when romance finally entered your life in the form of a gentle giant, the way he loved you was new, something you'd never experienced before. Your boyfriend was a soft soul, and you loved him for it. Gyomei was soft with you, soft touches on your hand, soft kisses on your cheek. The same could be said in the bedroom. And that was just so embarrassing to you, and a little frustrating too. You weren't used to soft sex. You were used to fucking, being turned around and faced down, content with using and being used for pleasure. But sex was just so...different when it wasn't rough when it wasn't mean, when it was with him. And you couldn't understand why he was so gentle when it came to you
The way Gyomei knew your body made you so incredibly wet. He touched you, every inch of you, kissed every part of you so slowly, so carefully you could cry. He spent so much time on you. Making sure to pay attention to every part of you. It made you feel so vulnerable, so bare. That one night, you really couldn’t hold back from crying.
Usually, the tears that rolled down your cheeks during times like this were ones of pleasure. But the fat tears which rolled down your cheeks right now were because of your boyfriend, who was currently teasing his cock against your crying pussy, pushing just the tip in but never more, taking his time to feel you.
However, when he heard your quiet sobs he was quick to cradle your face in his hands ever so softly, only making your tears worsen. “My love, what is the matter?” he asks you. You weren’t too good at expressing yourself. He knew that. But you had grown better at telling him what was wrong in the time the two of you had been together.
You sniffle a little as you speak, “This is the matter!” you exclaim frustratedly, clearly having let these feelings build up for a long while. “Nobody fucks like this, nobody! I mean this is so embarrassing” you say as he wipes away your tears.
Subtle anger bubbles in you when you hear your boyfriend chuckle lightly at you. “Have you ever considered that I don’t want to’ fuck’ you?” he says softly, pressing a peck to the shell of your ear, “I mean ‘fucking’, that’s the word you use for hookups…hen you meet someone you don’t know and are fueled by shallow arousal and need”. Your boyfriend explains before he presses kisses down your neck, sloppy, slow ones that force a moan out of you.
Gyomei’s large hands grasp his cock, stroking over it before he angles it just right to push inside you. He always gave you so much time to adjust, to really feel his cock inside you. Your back is arched now, pleasure coursing through you, Gyomei still whispering in your ear. “When we have sex-” he continues, “You turn me on more than you know…and I feel the overwhelming need to be nestled inside you just like this” he whispered, his free hand pressing on where he was inside you. Your legs quake a little at the feeling, a whimper leaving you as he pulls his cock out of you so just the tip was inside before he pushed back in. Keeping himself there as he spoke to you.
“But you, my love, you don’t deserve to be pleasured like you're some hookup, some random girl I don’t care about or care to know,” your boyfriend tells you, his hips now rutting into you at a steady pace, feeding you hard and deep strokes. Something you never knew you liked until him. Everything was so different with him.
“I want to make you feel good the way you deserve, you deserve to be cherished, to be taken care of. Not ‘fucked’.” Your toes were curled in pleasure the more he spoke, “So don’t be embarrassed about me taking my time with you” he tells you, “It’s what people do when they are in love and I love you”
“And I’ll make love to you as many times as it takes for you to understand that”
★Tengen Uzui★
You were absolutely convinced you were broken. From the simple fact that whenever you tried to orgasm, you couldn't. Because you always had to pee when you got close. No matter what you did, how much water you didn't drink, how much you peed beforehand. You were always met with the same result. Now that you were married, things were a little more difficult. You had four people who wanted to make you cum that you never let do so, often opting to service them inside as to not disappoint them. You were terrified to tell them the truth, that you couldn't orgasm. So while you made out with your husband, your three wives away on a mission together, you figured you'd break the news to him before his cock grew any harder in his sleep shorts.
“Lord Tengen, I have to tell you something,” you say, pulling away from the kiss the two of you shared, your husbands lips chasing yours as he opened his eyes to look at you.
“What is it Mama?” he asks you, moving to kiss your neck, strong, big hands caressing your hips. You let out a shaky sigh, “This is a little embarrassing to admit” you say, “And I've been scared to tell you for a while but baby..I- sex won’t be any fun with me because…because I can’t orgasm!” you explain.
Tengen backs away from your neck to look you in your eyes. And you stare baffled when he bursts out laughing. Full-on cackling to the point where he sounds like a dying hyena. You roll your eyes at him, “It’s not funny!” you shout hitting his arm, he reaches over to rub the spot you hit, apologies rolling off his tongue as he tries to control his laughing.
“Y-Yeah, you’re right i-it’s not funny at all,” he says, trying to be serious. Trying even harder when he sees the frown on your face. He reaches up to grab your chin, “Why don’t you think you can orgasm doll?”he questions
“...Because every time I get close, I have to pee, so I stop. And it happens every time!”You mutter, a pout on your face.
Tengen nods at your words, leaning in to press a kiss on your pouty lips, “I’ll tell you what, why don’t you let me try to make you cum and if you really can’t, we’ll take you to a doctor and see what’s wrong” he reasons with you.
You shrug, sitting up to pull your nightgown over your head, “Fine, but i’m telling you this won’t work!”you say.
He shushes you with another kiss, pushing you onto your back. You melt into it hold, easily spreading your legs so his hands could grasp your thighs, pulling you against him.
“How should I give you your first huh?”He breathes against your lips, “Should I use my cock or my fingers, or maybe my tongue?”he asks.
“Your cock”you whimper out, “I want your cock” you tell him and Tengen smiles, “Okay Mama, turn around f’me.”. You do as he told you, turning around and letting him press your face into the pillows, a hand on your back easing you into a deep arch. His thumb gently plays with your clit, watching as your hole clenches around nothing. The more he rubs, the wetter your pretty pussy gets, dripping over his thumb.
With his free hand Tengen fumbles with his shorts as he pulls out his cock, tip angry and red, leaking precum profusely. “You think you’re ready for me?” he asks you softly and you nod your head, fingers gripping the bedroom sheets.
He readies himself behind you and when he pushes in your brows furrow, he was big..really big. But the farther he eased in the, better it felt. He sat still inside you for a few minutes, brushing your hair out of the way to kiss your neck until your winded voice told him it was okay to move.
You felt your legs start to shake embarrassingly quick, your husband hitting the perfect spots inside of you every time he pushed his fat cock into you. You were a mess of whines and whimpers as he fucked into you. It felt so good, you thought you might burst into sobs if you didn’t get to cum from this.
To your disappointment, you felt the all too familiar feeling you always got when your pleasure was close to it’s peak. You gently reached back to press a hand to Tengen's Torso warning him of what was to come, “I-I, fuck, I told you it wouldn’t work. We have to stop… I have to pee!”you exclaimed.
You squeal in surprise when Tengen grabs the hand on his torso and your other hand that was clenching the bed sheets, using them for leverage behind your back to fuck you harder. The new angle of his hitting so deep it made the peeing sensation worse.
“T-Tengen” you stutter, “Don’t make me pee myself” you beg, looking back at him helplessly, a pout on your lips.
Your husband just laughs, “You won’t baby, relax for me Mama, just relax. You’re not gonna pee” he tells you and the fact comforts you a little. But it doesn’t stop worry from filling you as the overwhelming feeling of an orgasm and the need to pee takes over you. “T-Tengen I-I think I’m gonna cum” you whine out, toes curling as he fucks you.
“Go on baby, cum on my dick, you can do it” he encourages. His words make your whole body tense up, your eyes rolling back in your head. You let out a nasty cry as your whole body shook, racking with pleasure. But that wasn’t the only sensation you were feeling. Everything was so wet, your juices spurting all over Tengen's cock and your thighs.
You were a fucking fountain and it was the sexiest thing Tengen had ever seen. He couldn’t help the way he pumped you with his cum, watching as you twitched with a dark look in his eyes, still cumming all over him. He chuckles a little before speaking to you, though you could barely hear him through your fucked out state.
“Good girl, see? You can cum, you’re just a little messy”
★Kyojuro Rengoku★
Kyojuro thought you were adorable. When he first met you, your soft demeanor impressed him. But you were so shy, so new to things, he had a lot to teach you. He taught you a lot, about love and life. And while teaching you about love, he taught you how to have sex. Great sex at that. But you were always so shy. Even now, when you were on your knees In front of his growing erection, your eyes were still wide, hesitant, and curious.
You stared at your boyfriend's cock, a bright blush creeping up to your cheeks. You knew he was big, you had taken him inside of you a few times before. But you barely managed to fit him in you, so how the hell was he supposed to fit in your mouth?
“Kyo', I don’t think it’s gonna fit,” you say in awe, a gentle hand reaching to grab at him, squeezing the base. Your hand could barely wrap around his girth. Kyojuro chuckles a little, a hand coming to pat over your head, “You can take me, princess,” he assured you.
“..Do I just…lick it? Or am I supposed to suck?” you ask, the questions embarrassing you.
“Use your hands first, and stroke me, Princess, can you do that for me?” your boyfriend asks.
You nod your head, moving your hand up and down his shaft. From the sighs and breathy moans Kyojuro was letting out, you were pretty sure you were doing good. The faster you stroked, the more you noticed beads of precum sliding from his tip. You leaned in, sticking your tongue out to lick at the sticky pre, humming at the taste.
Kyojuro watched your movements, stopping your attempts to move your tongue away, “Keep licking baby girl, just like that”. You tried your best to mimic your movements from before, licking the underside of his tip. Eventually, you got braver, moving to suckle on his tip. You were quite enjoying yourself, even though you felt a little silly on your knees like this. But it was making your boyfriend feel good, and you liked making him feel good.
“You ready to go farther princess?”Kyojuro asks after a while, voice laced with lust. You pull off his cock with a loud pop that had your boyfriend's hand fisting in the sheets. “Yeah, I just suck with it all stuffed in?”You ask.
He nods his head, “I’ll help you, baby,” his hands stroking through your hair up into a makeshift ponytail, “Open your mouth f'me, stick that tongue out.”
His words make you glance away in embarrassment, doing as he says. He uses his hands to guide his cock to your lips, gently easing you on his cock. The stretch is alarming, but he feels good in your mouth. Until he hits the back of your throat and you start to gag. He keeps pushing you down though, all the way until little yellow hairs tickle your nose. You choked, spit drooling over his pelvis until he pulled you off, and then back on. Settling you into a good rhythm, until you got the hang of everything on your own.
You felt, embarrassed, and a little silly while your boyfriend was stuffing your mouth full, but your boyfriend's moans and whimpers were well worth it.
“Oh god baby” Kyojuro groans as he looks down at you, all pretty just for him. Face covered in spit, tears welling up in your eyes, and hair a mess, with your mouth stuffed full.
“You’re gonna make me cum all over that pretty face”
★Giyu Tomioka★
Giyu loves you so much. Just absolutely everything about you. He’s just a little bad at showing it though. Giyu’s the type of guy to see you in the sexiest dress ever, be absolutely amazed by it, and when you ask him what he thinks, he’ll say it’s fine…that he likes it. Over time, actions like this kinda make you doubt yourself, more specifically your body. “Are my boobs too big in this”, “Maybe I should cover up more…my butt is a little flat”. Thoughts like that running in your head. And it wasn’t like he meant to make you feel that way, Giyu is a sweetheart, he just genuinely doesn’t know he’s not conveying how beautiful he thinks you are. Until one night of course.
Giyu had been exhausted these past few weeks, demon slaying would do that to you. He wanted to go to sleep when he finally came home, take a long ass nap. So why was his back pressed against his bed frame, His girlfriend nestled firmly in his lap as he pushed his tongue down your throat?
Don’t ask him.
He loved making out with you, his hand reaching to grab anything he could reach on you. And you were no better, having already pulled off his shirt, your hands reaching to fumble with his pants to pull out his cock. You were eager today and he could understand that, it had been a while since the two of you had sex and both of you were hungry for each other. But that’s why he was so confused when you denied his request.
“Baby..” he breathed out, tugging on the end of your nightgown, “take this of f'me”
At this, you froze the hand that had wrapped around his cock stopping its movements. You shook your head leaning in to press a feverish kiss on his lips, “It’s okay” you mumble, “I’ll keep it on".
Giyu kissed you back, lost in the feeling of your hand starting to jerk his cock, but not lost enough for your words to go unnoticed.
“Y-You want to keep your clothes on during sex?” he questioned softly, trying his best to keep his words clear through his haze of pleasure. You nod your head at his words, “It’ll be better” you mumble through his kisses, stroking your boyfriend faster, spurts of pre dripping over your hand, “If I’m covered…you’ll enjoy it more” you say.
Giyu’s eyebrows furrow and he places a gentle hand on your cheek, pulling you away from the kiss. Looking at him like this you could see the concern in his eyes. “You think I’ll enjoy this more if I can’t see you, all of you?”
You sigh, glancing away from his gaze, hand slowing its strokes to a halt, “Look, I know you’re not too fond of my body, but I’m really horny, so if I keep the nightgown there are no problems with anyone and-”
“Where did you get the idea I don’t like your body?” he asks swiftly, cutting you off, his hand making you look him in the eyes again.
“Well…you’ve never said much about how I look. I’m not sure if you think I’m sexy…or if you hate the way I look” You admit. Giyu’s heart breaks a little at your words, his thumb strokes over your cheek softly, “Baby girl...I think you’re beautiful. Absolutely breathtaking” he tells you, “Everything about you is so sexy and alluring and I’m so sorry I don’t tell you that enough" he says.
After a while of letting his words sink in, your hand comes to rest on top of his, “Do you forgive me, baby?” Giyu asks and you nod with a smile on your face. “Of course I do”“Good,” your boyfriend says, pressing a kiss to your nose.
“So why don’t you take this off for me and let me watch my gorgeous girl ride me, hmm?”
★Shinobu Kocho★
Your girlfriend was mean. She teased you all the time, flustering you, embarrassing you. And sex was no different. Sex with Shinobu was always such an experience. She made it feel like the first time every time. But it got worse whenever she got the strap out. She got dirtier, nastier. Whispering filthy words in your ear. Your girlfriend always managed to make your cheeks heat up. To surprise you.
Shinobu was small, but she fucked you as if she was six feet tall. Your leg was thrown over your girlfriend's shoulder, her strap tight on her hips. She was staring down at you, a hand wrapped around your throat. Her strap was pushing so fucking deep inside you, you felt like you were gonna lose your mind.
She wanted to use the biggest one she had on you and you were worried, you really didn’t think you could take it. But of course your girlfriend had to tease you about it, ‘oh you’d probably cry if you did anyway’... ‘we don’t have to use it, i can always make you cry on your tongue’ she said. Her last words were said with genuine concern. You knew she would never make you take anything you didn’t want to. But you couldn’t let her win, you would not cry if you took it.
And that’s what got you here, her purple strap fucking meanly into the spot inside you that had your toes curling, and fat tears welling in your eyes. You tried your best to hold in your tears, hoping to cover up their arrival with your whimpers and moans.
But when she had hiked your leg up over her shoulder, reaching ever so deep inside you, the tears spilled. And of course, Shinobu noticed, a smile spreading on her sweet face.
“Aww, you cryin baby?”she asked, and you pout at her, “..I-I can’t help it” you sniffle.
She mimics the pout on your face, mocking you, “Wh-what, is my cock too deep inside your little cunt” she teased.
Your face flamed red, turning away from her you said, “You’re so annoying, it’s so e-embarrassing when you talk like that”
“..Oh really?your pussy doesn’t seem to mind at all,” she says, choking you a bit harder to get you to look back at her, her free hand sliding down your body to thumb at your clit making you cry out. “See?, just listen to her…she likes when I talk dirty to you,” your girlfriend says and you do hear yourself.
The squelching in the room was so loud, so lewd. She always got you so wet. And Shinobu was always in awe at just how worked up she could get you, seeing your juices on her strap sent her spiraling, “God it’s like she’s talking to me pretty, telling me how good I fuck her”
You close your eyes to ignore the embarrassment you feel from her words.
“You’re so wet pretty girl, soaking the bed. My messy girl”She spoke, leaning down to leave a sloppy kiss to your lips.
It was just so much. The way she was talking to you, about you. The way her thumb was rubbing precise circles on your clit and her dick was kissing at your cervix. You tried to push your hips away reaching a hand out to try and move the hand rubbing overwhelmingly on your clit.
But Shinobu was stronger than you and she held you in place, pushing your leg closer to your chest, nestling impossibly deeper in your cunt. Your eyes shoot open, eyebrows furrow in pleasure when her fingers speed up on your sensitive bud, your girlfriend looking into your eyes with a smug smile on your face.
“What’s the matter baby, Why are you trying to push me away?” she spoke, her voice so soft you would have thought she was being genuine, before she leaned in closer to you, kissing the pout off your lips.
“I-It’s too deep Nobu...” You cry, "I c-can't take it, s'too deep!"
Shinobu tuts at you, “You said you could take it pretty, you told me you would,” she said, “So you’re going to sit there, look pretty like the slut you are, and take my cock right?” she asked, slapping your clit when you didn’t answer her right away, “..Right?”
You sighed, one day you would prove her wrong, get leverage on her, and tease her the way she relentlessly teased you. But today was not that day.
“R-Right” you stuttered out, face red, a mess of tears spilling down your face. Shinobu smiled, happy with your answer.
“That’s right, now be a good girl and cum real messy for me baby”
This was a request, if you ever want to request I'll write pretty much anything so...yeah! Hope you enjoyed!
Note:Hey everyone, if you can see this my account is currently under review so for now, you can find me on my spam @lovelywyenn !!! So please go follow and give me lots of love this October;)
★Hashira x fem!HashiraReader★
How the Hashira act when they see how shy their pretty girl is when it comes to sex. Except for Muichiro Ofc, I'm not a weirdo.
★Obanai Iguro★
Your whole life had been dedicated to training. Every second of your life was focused on becoming the highest rank a Demon slayer could achieve, Hashira Status. And when you finally achieved that, your dedication to the craft was what drew the serpent Hashira to you. He admired your attitude, your strength, the way you held yourself. Your confidence was truthfully sexy to him. Which is why, during times like this, when you had your back pressed against Obanai's front, his legs pinning your own down. One of his slender fingers toying with your clit expertly. Yet, not a sound was leaving you. You did this often, staying quiet when he made you feel good. And he didn't like it. Not one bit
It felt like Obanai had been toying with you for hours when it had really only been half of one. His fingers pinched and prodded at your clit in a way that had your back arching and head rolling back against his shoulder. You had been doing a good job at keeping your moans in, holding your bottom lip tight between your teeth. But you couldn’t help the small whine that left you when Obanai pulled his hand away from your wet slit, bringing them up to your mouth. You obediently suckled on them the way he liked as he opened his mouth to talk to you.
“Tell me doll, am I not making you feel good?” your boyfriend asks you, and you’re quick to answer him when he pulls his lengthy digits from your lips, “Of course you make me feel good, you always make me feel good. Why do you think you don’t”?”You ask, turning to look up at him.
“You’re awfully quiet, ”he answers, “Partners tend to be vocal during times like this”.
You sigh, looking away from him, “I-I know, but Obanai…I’m too vocal” you say, “I’m really loud and I don’t want to turn you off,” You tell him honestly. Obanai tuts at your words, his free hand grabbing your chin to make you look at him again, “I like it when you make noise, I want you to be loud” he says, wet hand wandering back down your body to tap his index finger against your clit.
On instinct, you bite your lip to keep your moan in and he rolls his eyes. His fingers glide down to your dripping entrance, fingers sliding in with ease. You can’t help the way you moan as the limbs curl deeply inside of you, stroking that special spot that had you seeing stars. His smile grew the more vocal you got. You were right, you were loud. So loud, the sounds in the room right now were borderline pornographic. Obanai presses a wet kiss to your neck, silently praising you for your newfound confidence.
“That’s my girl, let me hear how good I make you feel”.
★Mitsuri Kanroji★
Mitsuri is definitely a bottom. And you love giving fucking her, making your pretty, sensitive girl feel good. But in the rare times, Mitsuri would take charge in the bedroom. You always got...nervous. You couldn't relax, couldn't just sit and feel the pleasure she was giving you. And Mitsuri Noticed, she noticed everything when it came to you. She thought that after a while, you would learn to relax, to take what she was giving you and let yourself enjoy it. But no matter how many times she got between your legs, you never relaxed. Not even now, when she was suckling on your clit, fingers tweaking with your nipples were you able to relax.
When your girlfriend's lips unlatched from your clit, you looked down at her. She moved to sit on her knees in front of you. Her soft hands pushed your legs to your chest, softly stroking over your thighs. “Mitsuri?” you call, “Did I do something wrong-”
“Why won’t you relax for me sweet thing?” she asks you, “You think I won’t take care of her?”
Her eyes don’t meet yours, focusing on the twitching of your cunt. You were soaked, slick dripping down your thighs messily. But you were just so tense.
“Talk to me” she urged, “why can’t you relax, hmm?
You sigh softly as you talk to her, “I don’t know…you make me nervous I guess” you tell Mitsuri. “How am I supposed to relax when the love of your life is eating you out so well you feel like you’re gonna pass out. I just don’t want to do anything embarrassing…something that throws you off” you ramble.
Mitsuri Chuckles lightly, “I let myself enjoy you all the time. I thrash and I moan, and it doesn’t throw you off right?” you nod as she keeps talking, “Trust me, baby, it feels so much better when you let yourself feel it,” she tells you. Her gentle hands stroke up your body, comfortingly massaging your shoulders, the flesh of your tits, and the dip of your hips until she felt the tension dissipating from your body. “There we go”, she says softly, pressing wet kisses down your abdomen until she was in front of your sopping core, “Just relax and let me kiss this pretty cunt” she told you, settling on her stomach between your legs.
Of course, your girlfriend was right. Relaxing really made the experience ten times more heavenly. You closed your eyes, letting yourself focus on how her tongue felt against you. She always started slow, licking from your entrance to the bottom of your clit before all her attention was focused on your clit. The way she suckled on it had your eyebrows pinched together in pleasure. It felt like your body was on fire, your thighs twitching the harder she sucked, her tongue flicking at your clit. Whimpers and whines filled the air as your hand slid through Mitsuri’s hair, pulling her impossibly closer. Hips humping up into her mouth.
With pleasure so intense, it wasn’t a surprise that you came with the same intensity. A cry leaving your lips as Mitsuri licked at the juices that spurted out of you. Working you through it. When you were calmed down, and your breathing was even again, Mitsuri plucked herself away from your slit, sitting up to look into your fucked out eyes. She wiped away the wetness dripping down her chin with a satisfied smile on her face.
“I told you it’d feel better”
★Sanemi Shinazugawa★
Everybody knows Sanemi's a freak. Like, bro is an absolute fiend, I mean he'll do anything anywhere, he does NOT care. So that was why EVERYBODY was confused when Sanemi fell for you. You were a new Hashira, soft-spoken, kind, delicate. Almost the exact opposite of Sanemi. But he loved you and you loved him too. Even the side of him that was a little taboo. But what Sanemi didn't know, was his sweet girl was a little worse than him
You had just come back from a long mission, having defeated a lower moon demon all on your lonesome with barely a scratch on you. So of course your boyfriend had to take you down to the entertainment district to celebrate. Taking you to your favorite restaurant, buying you expensive wine and anything off the menu you wanted.
As the night mellowed out, plates cleared, the two of you left with half a bottle of wine on the table, sipping and giggling with each other like you always did. Things took a turn when Sanemi mentioned how much he had missed you while you were gone.
“I’m proud of you, y’know,” Sanemi said to you, “My girl’s strong as hell” he praised.
You blush at his compliment, a small“Thank you, baby” leaving your lips. Sanemi reaches down to grasp your hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it. “I mean it really, but I hate when you leave me here all by myself” he mutters, pressing another kiss to your palm, softly pressing them down your arm.
“Sanemi,” You say, trying to sound scolding, but your voice is far too soft for that “We’re in public!”
He nods, rolling his eyes, “And has that ever stopped us before?”
“It’s never stopped you before,” You say, shaking your head. “C’mon Mama, I saw an office in the back…it’s empty,” he says, hoping to convince you to join him. “Please” he pleaded, “You really gonna make me walk out of here with a hard-on?” he said.
You rolled your eyes, sliding out of your chair and dragging him along when you saw no one was watching. You stomped to the back and Sanemi pulled open the empty office door, shutting it behind the two of you.
He’s quick to grab your hips, gently backing you against the door. His hands trail down to the back of your thighs, hiking you up to his height. Your hands easily roll around his neck, looking into his eyes. Being held like this, you could feel how hard he was, his cock snug against your clothed cunt. “How are you this hard already, nothing we talked about during dinner was even remotely sexual” you spoke.
You let out a soft whine when Sanemi doesn’t answer you, instead pressing a kiss to your lips, “Couldn’t stop thinking about my girl, how soft you are, how good you feel” he breathed, pressing another rough kiss to your lips. You kissed him back, having learned to kiss him with the same intensity. Even though you missed this, you pulled away from the kiss worry taking over you.
“Baby, really, we should wait till we get home” You moan as his rough kisses trail down your neck, his hands move to pull you flush against him. You can’t help the way your hips press a little harder against his erection.
“You sure?” he asks you, his own hips pressing harder into your cunt, making you stutter as you answered him. “I’m just worried about g-getting caught” you whimper.
Sanemi suddenly puts you down, spinning your body around so your face is pressed against the door. His large hands pressing your back into an arch. He was quick to unbuckle his pants, pulling his cock out of his pants. He bunched your dress up around your hips, pulling the wet fabric of your underwear to the side. His fingers plunged into your cunt and you moan loudly. Sanemi’s free fingers drag in your mouth, “You're makin too much noise woman, quiet down” he growls in your ears.
You try your best to stay quiet as your boyfriend fingers you. Your cunt was soaked, squelching sounds filling up the room. Sanemi’s cock twitched when he heard the moan you let out when he curled his fingers. But that wasn’t the only thing he heard, and you heard it too.
Voices. Voices and footsteps coming farther in your direction.
You panicked looking back at Sanemi who seemed to be enjoying this. He spotted a closet beside the desk in the room and he gently walked you towards it, closing the closet door behind him, pulling his fingers out of you.
Sighing in relief, you tried your best to be quiet when you heard two people enter the room. You could feel embarrassment curl up your neck. Growing worse when Sanemi lined himself up with your entrance and pushed himself inside. You let out a squeak, looking back at Sanemi in the dimly lit closet. “Wait, Sanemi, wait- they’re gonna hear us!” you whine, trying to warn him.
“No they won’t baby girl, just be quiet for me,” he says hips jutting into you. It was embarrassing, how wet you were. It didn’t concern Sanemi at first, you were always wet. But this was different, arousal was sticking along his abdomen, dripping onto the floor beneath the two of you.
He knew he made you feel good, but this was different. And he didn’t understand why until the noises your sloppy cunt was making, were being picked up by the two people in the room. Hearing that they could hear you made you whimper a little too loudly, Sanemi started to worry that the two of you really would get caught.
His hand covered your mouth, dragging your head against his shoulder. “Baby shhhh, you have to be quiet” he whispers but you keep moaning as if people weren’t in the room with you, “God Mama, s’like you want them to hear you or something”
And when you clench around his cock he finally realizes why his shy girl was so vocal all of a sudden. “Oh you dirty girl, you want them to hear us don’t you?” he whispers, speeding up his hips. You groaned as he pounded into you harder, turning you to look at him “Yeah you do Mama, this sloppy cunt says it all” he speaks. You glance away, embarrassment filling you now that the truth has been revealed.
Sanemi shakes his head, “Nah baby don’t get shy now, s’too late for that”
“No need to hide how filthy you are from me”
★Gyomei Himejima★
Life as a Hashira didn't leave a lot of time for romance, the most you had time for was a quick fuck. And that's what you were used to, fucking guys who were looking for the same thing you were. Pleasure. But when romance finally entered your life in the form of a gentle giant, the way he loved you was new, something you'd never experienced before. Your boyfriend was a soft soul, and you loved him for it. Gyomei was soft with you, soft touches on your hand, soft kisses on your cheek. The same could be said in the bedroom. And that was just so embarrassing to you, and a little frustrating too. You weren't used to soft sex. You were used to fucking, being turned around and faced down, content with using and being used for pleasure. But sex was just so...different when it wasn't rough when it wasn't mean, when it was with him. And you couldn't understand why he was so gentle when it came to you
The way Gyomei knew your body made you so incredibly wet. He touched you, every inch of you, kissed every part of you so slowly, so carefully you could cry. He spent so much time on you. Making sure to pay attention to every part of you. It made you feel so vulnerable, so bare. That one night, you really couldn’t hold back from crying.
Usually, the tears that rolled down your cheeks during times like this were ones of pleasure. But the fat tears which rolled down your cheeks right now were because of your boyfriend, who was currently teasing his cock against your crying pussy, pushing just the tip in but never more, taking his time to feel you.
However, when he heard your quiet sobs he was quick to cradle your face in his hands ever so softly, only making your tears worsen. “My love, what is the matter?” he asks you. You weren’t too good at expressing yourself. He knew that. But you had grown better at telling him what was wrong in the time the two of you had been together.
You sniffle a little as you speak, “This is the matter!” you exclaim frustratedly, clearly having let these feelings build up for a long while. “Nobody fucks like this, nobody! I mean this is so embarrassing” you say as he wipes away your tears.
Subtle anger bubbles in you when you hear your boyfriend chuckle lightly at you. “Have you ever considered that I don’t want to’ fuck’ you?” he says softly, pressing a peck to the shell of your ear, “I mean ‘fucking’, that’s the word you use for hookups…hen you meet someone you don’t know and are fueled by shallow arousal and need”. Your boyfriend explains before he presses kisses down your neck, sloppy, slow ones that force a moan out of you.
Gyomei’s large hands grasp his cock, stroking over it before he angles it just right to push inside you. He always gave you so much time to adjust, to really feel his cock inside you. Your back is arched now, pleasure coursing through you, Gyomei still whispering in your ear. “When we have sex-” he continues, “You turn me on more than you know…and I feel the overwhelming need to be nestled inside you just like this” he whispered, his free hand pressing on where he was inside you. Your legs quake a little at the feeling, a whimper leaving you as he pulls his cock out of you so just the tip was inside before he pushed back in. Keeping himself there as he spoke to you.
“But you, my love, you don’t deserve to be pleasured like you're some hookup, some random girl I don’t care about or care to know,” your boyfriend tells you, his hips now rutting into you at a steady pace, feeding you hard and deep strokes. Something you never knew you liked until him. Everything was so different with him.
“I want to make you feel good the way you deserve, you deserve to be cherished, to be taken care of. Not ‘fucked’.” Your toes were curled in pleasure the more he spoke, “So don’t be embarrassed about me taking my time with you” he tells you, “It’s what people do when they are in love and I love you”
“And I’ll make love to you as many times as it takes for you to understand that”
★Tengen Uzui★
You were absolutely convinced you were broken. From the simple fact that whenever you tried to orgasm, you couldn't. Because you always had to pee when you got close. No matter what you did, how much water you didn't drink, how much you peed beforehand. You were always met with the same result. Now that you were married, things were a little more difficult. You had four people who wanted to make you cum that you never let do so, often opting to service them inside as to not disappoint them. You were terrified to tell them the truth, that you couldn't orgasm. So while you made out with your husband, your three wives away on a mission together, you figured you'd break the news to him before his cock grew any harder in his sleep shorts.
“Lord Tengen, I have to tell you something,” you say, pulling away from the kiss the two of you shared, your husbands lips chasing yours as he opened his eyes to look at you.
“What is it Mama?” he asks you, moving to kiss your neck, strong, big hands caressing your hips. You let out a shaky sigh, “This is a little embarrassing to admit” you say, “And I've been scared to tell you for a while but baby..I- sex won’t be any fun with me because…because I can’t orgasm!” you explain.
Tengen backs away from your neck to look you in your eyes. And you stare baffled when he bursts out laughing. Full-on cackling to the point where he sounds like a dying hyena. You roll your eyes at him, “It’s not funny!” you shout hitting his arm, he reaches over to rub the spot you hit, apologies rolling off his tongue as he tries to control his laughing.
“Y-Yeah, you’re right i-it’s not funny at all,” he says, trying to be serious. Trying even harder when he sees the frown on your face. He reaches up to grab your chin, “Why don’t you think you can orgasm doll?”he questions
“...Because every time I get close, I have to pee, so I stop. And it happens every time!”You mutter, a pout on your face.
Tengen nods at your words, leaning in to press a kiss on your pouty lips, “I’ll tell you what, why don’t you let me try to make you cum and if you really can’t, we’ll take you to a doctor and see what’s wrong” he reasons with you.
You shrug, sitting up to pull your nightgown over your head, “Fine, but i’m telling you this won’t work!”you say.
He shushes you with another kiss, pushing you onto your back. You melt into it hold, easily spreading your legs so his hands could grasp your thighs, pulling you against him.
“How should I give you your first huh?”He breathes against your lips, “Should I use my cock or my fingers, or maybe my tongue?”he asks.
“Your cock”you whimper out, “I want your cock” you tell him and Tengen smiles, “Okay Mama, turn around f’me.”. You do as he told you, turning around and letting him press your face into the pillows, a hand on your back easing you into a deep arch. His thumb gently plays with your clit, watching as your hole clenches around nothing. The more he rubs, the wetter your pretty pussy gets, dripping over his thumb.
With his free hand Tengen fumbles with his shorts as he pulls out his cock, tip angry and red, leaking precum profusely. “You think you’re ready for me?” he asks you softly and you nod your head, fingers gripping the bedroom sheets.
He readies himself behind you and when he pushes in your brows furrow, he was big..really big. But the farther he eased in the, better it felt. He sat still inside you for a few minutes, brushing your hair out of the way to kiss your neck until your winded voice told him it was okay to move.
You felt your legs start to shake embarrassingly quick, your husband hitting the perfect spots inside of you every time he pushed his fat cock into you. You were a mess of whines and whimpers as he fucked into you. It felt so good, you thought you might burst into sobs if you didn’t get to cum from this.
To your disappointment, you felt the all too familiar feeling you always got when your pleasure was close to it’s peak. You gently reached back to press a hand to Tengen's Torso warning him of what was to come, “I-I, fuck, I told you it wouldn’t work. We have to stop… I have to pee!”you exclaimed.
You squeal in surprise when Tengen grabs the hand on his torso and your other hand that was clenching the bed sheets, using them for leverage behind your back to fuck you harder. The new angle of his hitting so deep it made the peeing sensation worse.
“T-Tengen” you stutter, “Don’t make me pee myself” you beg, looking back at him helplessly, a pout on your lips.
Your husband just laughs, “You won’t baby, relax for me Mama, just relax. You’re not gonna pee” he tells you and the fact comforts you a little. But it doesn’t stop worry from filling you as the overwhelming feeling of an orgasm and the need to pee takes over you. “T-Tengen I-I think I’m gonna cum” you whine out, toes curling as he fucks you.
“Go on baby, cum on my dick, you can do it” he encourages. His words make your whole body tense up, your eyes rolling back in your head. You let out a nasty cry as your whole body shook, racking with pleasure. But that wasn’t the only sensation you were feeling. Everything was so wet, your juices spurting all over Tengen's cock and your thighs.
You were a fucking fountain and it was the sexiest thing Tengen had ever seen. He couldn’t help the way he pumped you with his cum, watching as you twitched with a dark look in his eyes, still cumming all over him. He chuckles a little before speaking to you, though you could barely hear him through your fucked out state.
“Good girl, see? You can cum, you’re just a little messy”
★Kyojuro Rengoku★
Kyojuro thought you were adorable. When he first met you, your soft demeanor impressed him. But you were so shy, so new to things, he had a lot to teach you. He taught you a lot, about love and life. And while teaching you about love, he taught you how to have sex. Great sex at that. But you were always so shy. Even now, when you were on your knees In front of his growing erection, your eyes were still wide, hesitant, and curious.
You stared at your boyfriend's cock, a bright blush creeping up to your cheeks. You knew he was big, you had taken him inside of you a few times before. But you barely managed to fit him in you, so how the hell was he supposed to fit in your mouth?
“Kyo', I don’t think it’s gonna fit,” you say in awe, a gentle hand reaching to grab at him, squeezing the base. Your hand could barely wrap around his girth. Kyojuro chuckles a little, a hand coming to pat over your head, “You can take me, princess,” he assured you.
“..Do I just…lick it? Or am I supposed to suck?” you ask, the questions embarrassing you.
“Use your hands first, and stroke me, Princess, can you do that for me?” your boyfriend asks.
You nod your head, moving your hand up and down his shaft. From the sighs and breathy moans Kyojuro was letting out, you were pretty sure you were doing good. The faster you stroked, the more you noticed beads of precum sliding from his tip. You leaned in, sticking your tongue out to lick at the sticky pre, humming at the taste.
Kyojuro watched your movements, stopping your attempts to move your tongue away, “Keep licking baby girl, just like that”. You tried your best to mimic your movements from before, licking the underside of his tip. Eventually, you got braver, moving to suckle on his tip. You were quite enjoying yourself, even though you felt a little silly on your knees like this. But it was making your boyfriend feel good, and you liked making him feel good.
“You ready to go farther princess?”Kyojuro asks after a while, voice laced with lust. You pull off his cock with a loud pop that had your boyfriend's hand fisting in the sheets. “Yeah, I just suck with it all stuffed in?”You ask.
He nods his head, “I’ll help you, baby,” his hands stroking through your hair up into a makeshift ponytail, “Open your mouth f'me, stick that tongue out.”
His words make you glance away in embarrassment, doing as he says. He uses his hands to guide his cock to your lips, gently easing you on his cock. The stretch is alarming, but he feels good in your mouth. Until he hits the back of your throat and you start to gag. He keeps pushing you down though, all the way until little yellow hairs tickle your nose. You choked, spit drooling over his pelvis until he pulled you off, and then back on. Settling you into a good rhythm, until you got the hang of everything on your own.
You felt, embarrassed, and a little silly while your boyfriend was stuffing your mouth full, but your boyfriend's moans and whimpers were well worth it.
“Oh god baby” Kyojuro groans as he looks down at you, all pretty just for him. Face covered in spit, tears welling up in your eyes, and hair a mess, with your mouth stuffed full.
“You’re gonna make me cum all over that pretty face”
★Giyu Tomioka★
Giyu loves you so much. Just absolutely everything about you. He’s just a little bad at showing it though. Giyu’s the type of guy to see you in the sexiest dress ever, be absolutely amazed by it, and when you ask him what he thinks, he’ll say it’s fine…that he likes it. Over time, actions like this kinda make you doubt yourself, more specifically your body. “Are my boobs too big in this”, “Maybe I should cover up more…my butt is a little flat”. Thoughts like that running in your head. And it wasn’t like he meant to make you feel that way, Giyu is a sweetheart, he just genuinely doesn’t know he’s not conveying how beautiful he thinks you are. Until one night of course.
Giyu had been exhausted these past few weeks, demon slaying would do that to you. He wanted to go to sleep when he finally came home, take a long ass nap. So why was his back pressed against his bed frame, His girlfriend nestled firmly in his lap as he pushed his tongue down your throat?
Don’t ask him.
He loved making out with you, his hand reaching to grab anything he could reach on you. And you were no better, having already pulled off his shirt, your hands reaching to fumble with his pants to pull out his cock. You were eager today and he could understand that, it had been a while since the two of you had sex and both of you were hungry for each other. But that’s why he was so confused when you denied his request.
“Baby..” he breathed out, tugging on the end of your nightgown, “take this of f'me”
At this, you froze the hand that had wrapped around his cock stopping its movements. You shook your head leaning in to press a feverish kiss on his lips, “It’s okay” you mumble, “I’ll keep it on".
Giyu kissed you back, lost in the feeling of your hand starting to jerk his cock, but not lost enough for your words to go unnoticed.
“Y-You want to keep your clothes on during sex?” he questioned softly, trying his best to keep his words clear through his haze of pleasure. You nod your head at his words, “It’ll be better” you mumble through his kisses, stroking your boyfriend faster, spurts of pre dripping over your hand, “If I’m covered…you’ll enjoy it more” you say.
Giyu’s eyebrows furrow and he places a gentle hand on your cheek, pulling you away from the kiss. Looking at him like this you could see the concern in his eyes. “You think I’ll enjoy this more if I can’t see you, all of you?”
You sigh, glancing away from his gaze, hand slowing its strokes to a halt, “Look, I know you’re not too fond of my body, but I’m really horny, so if I keep the nightgown there are no problems with anyone and-”
“Where did you get the idea I don’t like your body?” he asks swiftly, cutting you off, his hand making you look him in the eyes again.
“Well…you’ve never said much about how I look. I’m not sure if you think I’m sexy…or if you hate the way I look” You admit. Giyu’s heart breaks a little at your words, his thumb strokes over your cheek softly, “Baby girl...I think you’re beautiful. Absolutely breathtaking” he tells you, “Everything about you is so sexy and alluring and I’m so sorry I don’t tell you that enough" he says.
After a while of letting his words sink in, your hand comes to rest on top of his, “Do you forgive me, baby?” Giyu asks and you nod with a smile on your face. “Of course I do”“Good,” your boyfriend says, pressing a kiss to your nose.
“So why don’t you take this off for me and let me watch my gorgeous girl ride me, hmm?”
★Shinobu Kocho★
Your girlfriend was mean. She teased you all the time, flustering you, embarrassing you. And sex was no different. Sex with Shinobu was always such an experience. She made it feel like the first time every time. But it got worse whenever she got the strap out. She got dirtier, nastier. Whispering filthy words in your ear. Your girlfriend always managed to make your cheeks heat up. To surprise you.
Shinobu was small, but she fucked you as if she was six feet tall. Your leg was thrown over your girlfriend's shoulder, her strap tight on her hips. She was staring down at you, a hand wrapped around your throat. Her strap was pushing so fucking deep inside you, you felt like you were gonna lose your mind.
She wanted to use the biggest one she had on you and you were worried, you really didn’t think you could take it. But of course your girlfriend had to tease you about it, ‘oh you’d probably cry if you did anyway’... ‘we don’t have to use it, i can always make you cry on your tongue’ she said. Her last words were said with genuine concern. You knew she would never make you take anything you didn’t want to. But you couldn’t let her win, you would not cry if you took it.
And that’s what got you here, her purple strap fucking meanly into the spot inside you that had your toes curling, and fat tears welling in your eyes. You tried your best to hold in your tears, hoping to cover up their arrival with your whimpers and moans.
But when she had hiked your leg up over her shoulder, reaching ever so deep inside you, the tears spilled. And of course, Shinobu noticed, a smile spreading on her sweet face.
“Aww, you cryin baby?”she asked, and you pout at her, “..I-I can’t help it” you sniffle.
She mimics the pout on your face, mocking you, “Wh-what, is my cock too deep inside your little cunt” she teased.
Your face flamed red, turning away from her you said, “You’re so annoying, it’s so e-embarrassing when you talk like that”
“..Oh really?your pussy doesn’t seem to mind at all,” she says, choking you a bit harder to get you to look back at her, her free hand sliding down your body to thumb at your clit making you cry out. “See?, just listen to her…she likes when I talk dirty to you,” your girlfriend says and you do hear yourself.
The squelching in the room was so loud, so lewd. She always got you so wet. And Shinobu was always in awe at just how worked up she could get you, seeing your juices on her strap sent her spiraling, “God it’s like she’s talking to me pretty, telling me how good I fuck her”
You close your eyes to ignore the embarrassment you feel from her words.
“You’re so wet pretty girl, soaking the bed. My messy girl”She spoke, leaning down to leave a sloppy kiss to your lips.
It was just so much. The way she was talking to you, about you. The way her thumb was rubbing precise circles on your clit and her dick was kissing at your cervix. You tried to push your hips away reaching a hand out to try and move the hand rubbing overwhelmingly on your clit.
But Shinobu was stronger than you and she held you in place, pushing your leg closer to your chest, nestling impossibly deeper in your cunt. Your eyes shoot open, eyebrows furrow in pleasure when her fingers speed up on your sensitive bud, your girlfriend looking into your eyes with a smug smile on your face.
“What’s the matter baby, Why are you trying to push me away?” she spoke, her voice so soft you would have thought she was being genuine, before she leaned in closer to you, kissing the pout off your lips.
“I-It’s too deep Nobu...” You cry, "I c-can't take it, s'too deep!"
Shinobu tuts at you, “You said you could take it pretty, you told me you would,” she said, “So you’re going to sit there, look pretty like the slut you are, and take my cock right?” she asked, slapping your clit when you didn’t answer her right away, “..Right?”
You sighed, one day you would prove her wrong, get leverage on her, and tease her the way she relentlessly teased you. But today was not that day.
“R-Right” you stuttered out, face red, a mess of tears spilling down your face. Shinobu smiled, happy with your answer.
“That’s right, now be a good girl and cum real messy for me baby”
This was a request, if you ever want to request I'll write pretty much anything so...yeah! Hope you enjoyed!
ex girlfriend!pieck finger shows up at your door after coming back from a mission ╱ mdni. toxic yuri you said? hate sex, degradation, they're crazy crazy. wc: 4.8k ˚.✦
You hear someone try to open your apartment door with a key and then knock three times, each one louder. You get up, tying your robe with a silk strand around your waist, yawning a little because it was getting late already.
You open the door easily, finding Pieck still in her uniform, hair full of frizz but tied in a ponytail. Some new scars around her hands and neck, just overall a tired look on her.
"Ugh, you survived?" You roll your eyes, hands on your waist.
"Why the fuck did you change the lock?" she asks, voice already loud. You still can't believe how after being in Titan form for so long she still has the strength to stand.
You and her go way back, more that you would like. That type of weird friendships where you kiss and eat each other out just for the laughs. It took you a few years to finally accept your feelings and start dating. Only to realize that your relationship might be doomed with breaking up and getting back together eternally.
Before the last break up (the 5th in your relationship), you were even living together in that exact apartment. The days were filled with work in the morning and sex in the evening with some talking between rounds. It was good, relaxed and definitely not codependent.
Of course anyone can pleasure you just like Pieck does. Of course anyone can understand you just like Pieck does.
But the moment she announced her departure, your heart sank. She didn't know when she would come back, or even if she'd survived.
The fight was hours long. It ended up with you throwing her pillow off the window and telling her to not bother to come back.
And there she was. Pieck fucking Finger in all her glory, already half angry.
"Because this isn't your apartment anymore!" you answered her, trying to close the door so she pushes it open, making her way to the living room.
“Get the fuck out,” you hiss.
Pieck doesn’t even flinch. She turns, ponytail swinging like a whip. Her eyes rake over you: robe barely knotted, silk slipping off one shoulder, thighs still flushed from the shower you took an hour ago trying to wash her memory off your skin. She licks the corner of her mouth like she can already taste you.
“You kept that ugly couch,” she says instead of leaving. Her gaze drops to the same gray thing you used to fuck on for hours. “Sentimental bitch.”
“Or maybe I just didn’t want to explain to the trash guys why there’s a decade of your cum stains on it.” You step closer, deliberately letting the robe gap open another inch. “Still smells like you when I’m drunk enough to care. It's fucking disgusting.”
Her laugh is short. “You’re still touching yourself on it thinking about me. Don’t lie.”
You close the last step until your chests almost brush. She smells like sweat and new blood under old scars. You hate how it makes your cunt clench.
“I’ve fucked other people on it since you left,” you say, voice syrupy with cruelty. “They came harder than you ever did. Didn’t need to beg me to choke them first.”
Pieck’s hand snaps up, fingers curling around your throat—not hard enough to bruise (yet), just enough to remind you she still knows exactly where your pulse jumps. Her thumb strokes the front of your windpipe like she’s deciding whether to crush it or pet it.
“Liar,” she whispers, breath hot against your lips. “I know you cried to sleep the first month I left.”
You slap her hand away, shove her chest until her back hits the wall with a dull thud. The framed photo of the two of you (the one you never took down) rattles beside her head.
“You left,” you snarl, face inches from hers. “You packed your shit, kissed me like it meant something, then disappeared for five fucking months. Don’t act like you have any claim here anymore.”
Her eyes glitter, dark and glassy with something that looks dangerously close to tears and even more dangerously close to lust.
“I came back, didn’t I?” she bites out. Her hands fist in the front of your robe, yanking you flush against her. “Walked through gunfire, shifted until my spine felt like it was splitting, just so I could stand here and watch you pretend you don’t want to ride my face until you can’t remember your own name.”
You grab her ponytail, twist hard enough that her head jerks back and she gasps a raw, needy sound that goes straight to your clit.
“You think I waited?” you whisper against the bruised skin under her jaw. “You think I didn’t let someone else bite me here...” you drag your teeth over the exact spot she used to mark obsessively “while I pretended it was you?”
Pieck’s hips jerk forward involuntarily, grinding once against your thigh like she can’t help it.
“You’re such a fucking whore for me,” she pants, voice wrecked. “Even when you hate me.”
You shove your knee between her legs, press up until she moans through clenched teeth.
“And you’re still the only person I let mark me like property,” you spit back, hating how true it is. “So congratulations, Pieck. You win. You’re still the only one who gets to ruin me.”
She surges forward and kisses you like she’s trying to climb inside your mouth and live there. Teeth clash, tongues fight for dominance, lips split almost immediately. Copper blooms between you and neither of you cares.
Her hands are everywhere, yanking the robe open completely, laughing against your mouth.
"You really waited naked for me, pretty thing." She licks your bottom lip after biting it. "What if the person at the other side of the door wasn't me? What if it was Zeke, you would've fucked him too?"
"Fuck off, Pieck." You grab her again to keep her mouth full with one of your breasts. "You know I don't fuck with dudes."
She laughs while lapping at your nipple, with her free hands kneading your ass. A soft whine escapes your lips, enough to pull her mouth out of your nipple.
Then you shove her toward the couch. She stumbles, catches herself on the armrest, turns and looks at you with eyes so black they look like voids.
You stay up and bare in front of her.
“Strip,” you order.
She doesn’t argue. Jacket hits the floor. Shirt follows. The new scars on her ribs and collarbone make something ugly and possessive twist in your gut. You want to lick every single one until she screams.
When she's completely naked, you finally straddle her waist. She can feel the wetness of your pussy pressing against her thigh.
“I bet you only came back to fuck me,” you murmur before biting her neck
Pieck laughs, fucked-out already and you haven’t even touched her properly yet.
Her hand lowers between your bodies, pressing her finger against your clit without making any pressure.
“Yeah,” she rasps. “I did.”
You gasp at the touch, wanting to rock your hips but with Pieck's strong grip keeping you in place.
"Fucking asshole," you tell her. "Let me move."
She pulls her head back a little, giving you the more wicked smile on her, tilting her head a bit to the left before saying:
"Why don't you beg a little?"
You snarl, fingers digging into the meat of her shoulders hard enough to leave crescent moons. “Beg? For you?”
Pieck’s smile only sharpens, that lazy, cruel curve you used to trace with your tongue when she was half-asleep and still smelled like sex and coffee. Her thigh flexes under you, grinding the hard muscle right against your dripping slit without giving you the friction you’re already shaking for.
“You used to do it so prettily,” she murmurs. “With tears in your eyes because I wouldn’t let you come until you said my name like a prayer. Remember?”
You hate how your cunt clenches at the memory. Hate more how she feels it, how her pupils flare like she’s scenting blood.
“I remember you crying when I finally let someone else touch what you thought was yours,” you spit back, rocking forward anyway, chasing that maddening pressure even though her hands are iron manacles on your hips. “Remember how you fucked me against the kitchen counter the next night like you were trying to erase her? Left bruises I couldn’t sit on for a week. Marked territory like a fucking animal.”
Pieck’s laugh is dark. One hand slides up your spine, tangles in your hair, yanks your head back until your throat is bared. She leans in, lips brushing the frantic pulse there.
“Still got the scar from my teeth right here” she drags the flat of her tongue over the exact spot. “You never healed it right. You kept it like a brand.”
You buck against her thigh, slick sliding obscenely down her skin. “Because you’re a possessive psycho who gets off on owning me even when you’re the one who runs.”
Her free hand clamps harder on your ass, spreading you open a fraction, forcing your clit to drag along the ridge of her muscle with every tiny roll of your hips.
“Oh, but you love it,” she hisses. “You love that I’d kill anyone who tried to take this cunt from me. You love that I came back bleeding and half-dead just to bury my face in it again.”
You grab her jaw, force her to look at you. Your nails bite into her cheeks. “Then stop fucking playing and give it to me.”
Pieck’s eyes are fever-bright. She tilts her head into your grip like a cat begging to be scratched harder.
“Say it first.”
“Fuck you.”
“Say. It.”
You lean in until your mouths are barely touching, breath mingling, teeth grazing.
“I hate you,” you whisper, voice cracking with how badly you need her. “I hate you so much I let you back in every time. I hate you so much my pussy still gets wet the second I smell gun oil and your stupid shampoo. I hate you so much I’d rather die than let anyone else make me come the way you do.”
Her grip on your hips finally loosens just enough.
You slam down hard, grinding your soaked folds along her thigh in one long drag. The friction is brutal, perfect, too much and not enough all at once. You moan brokenly into her mouth.
Pieck groans like she’s been gut-punched. Her head falls back against the couch, exposing the long column of her throat, the fresh bruises already blooming under your earlier bite.
“Then ride me like you hate me,” she pants.
You do.
You roll your hips in tight, punishing circles, clit throbbing against her skin with every pass. Your nails rake down her chest, catching on the raised edges of new scars—she hisses, arches, thighs tensing to give you more pressure. One of her hands fists in your hair again, the other slides between you to pinch your nipple viciously, twisting until you cry out.
“Harder,” you demand, voice wrecked. “I want to feel you for weeks.”
She bucks under you, thigh jerking up to meet your next grind, and the sudden pressure sends sparks behind your eyes.
“Pieck—” It slips out.
She laughs again, triumphant and ruined. “There it is. My good little slut finally saying my name.”
You slap a hand over her mouth to shut her up. She bites your palm then licks the sting away while her eyes stay locked on yours, daring you to stop.
You don’t.
You ride her faster, messier, until the wet sounds are obscene, until your thighs burn and your clit is so swollen every drag feels like a direct hit to your nerves. She’s trembling beneath you, hips twitching like she’s close just from watching you fall apart on her.
“Gonna come?” she mumbles against your palm, words muffled and smug. “Gonna soak me like the desperate bitch you are?”
You yank your hand away, replace it with your mouth. The kiss is all teeth and desperation.
“Yes,” you gasp into her lips. “Ahh fuck yes, Pieck.”
She grabs your ass with both hands, hauls you down harder, forces you to grind in short jerks right where you need it.
“Come on my thigh,” she growls. “Come like you’re punishing me for ever leaving. Come so hard you ruin the fucking couch again.”
You shatter with a choked scream, hips stuttering, cunt pulsing against her slick skin as wave after wave rips through you. She holds you through it, fingers digging bruises into your hips, whispering filthy praise against your ear the whole time.
“Good girl. Still all fucking mine.”
When the aftershocks finally ebb, you’re both panting, sticky, shaking.
You don’t move.
Neither does she.
You stay straddled on her thigh, forehead pressed to hers, hearts hammering in vicious tandem.
“You’re still not leaving,” you mutter.
Pieck’s arms snake around your waist, possessive, unyielding.
“Try to throw me out again,” she whispers back, lips brushing your temple. “See what happens.”
You breath out, falling boneless in her chest. She wraps her arms around your waist, letting you feel her heat.
"Carry me to bed," you tell her. "I really wanna taste you."
Pieck’s hands slide under your thighs, strong despite the exhaustion etched into every new line of her body, and she lifts you like you weigh nothing. Your legs wrap around her waist on instinct, arms looping loose around her neck, face buried in the crook of her shoulder so you can smell the salt and smoke still clinging to her skin.
She walks you both to the bedroom without a word.
She drops you onto the mattress. You bounce once, still trembling from the aftershocks. Pieck stands at the foot of the bed for a second, chest rising and falling too fast, cocky little smirk already curling despite the way her hands shake when she braces them on either side of your hips.
You sit up on your elbows, legs spread shamelessly.
“Get on the bed,” you say. “I wanna see how fucking pathetic you got just from me humping your thigh like a bitch in heat.”
Her breath hitches. She obeys—crawls onto the mattress, lies back, thighs parting wide. The sheets are already cool against her overheated skin. You can see the shine between her legs from here, slick smeared down her inner thighs, clit swollen and dark. She’s even dripping onto the bed.
You crawl over her, straddling her stomach first so she can feel how wet you still are, how you’re leaving a glossy trail across her abs.
She looks up at you like you’re the only thing that’s ever mattered and the only thing she’s ever wanted to destroy.
You lean down, grab her jaw hard, force her mouth open.
“Open wider,” you murmur.
She does.
You gather spit on your tongue then let it drip straight into her waiting mouth. It lands on her tongue with a wet sound. Her eyes flutter, pupils blown to black.
You don’t let her swallow.
Instead you push two fingers past her lips, deep enough that her throat clicks around them. She gags once then sucks hard, tongue curling, cheeks hollowing like she’s starving for it.
“Look at you,” you sneer, pumping your fingers slowly in and out of her mouth. “So fucking eager. Came back half-dead just to choke on my fingers and drool like a desperate slut.”
Tears prick at the corners of her eyes immediately from how badly she needs this. From how much she loves when you talk to her like she’s nothing.
You pull your fingers free with a wet pop, strings of spit connecting them to her swollen lips. She whines and tries to chase them.
You slap her cheek lightly, just enough to make her gasp.
“Stay still.”
You slide down her body, dragging your nails over her ribs, catching on every raised scar until she arches and hisses. When you settle between her thighs, you shove them wider with your shoulders, hook her legs over your arms so she’s folded open, completely exposed.
Her cunt is a mess. Glistening, puffy, clit throbbing visibly. You can see her pulsing around nothing, desperate little flutters.
“Jesus, Pieck. You’re fucking soaked. Look at this.” You drag one finger through her folds, collecting her slick until it webs between your digits. You hold it up so she can see. “This much just from me grinding on you and spitting in your mouth? You’re literally crying already and I haven’t even touched your clit yet.”
She whimpers, hips jerking up toward your hand.
“Please—”
You spit directly onto her clit, watch it drip down her slit.
“Don’t beg yet. You don’t deserve it.”
Then you dive in.
You lick a long, flat stripe from her entrance to her clit, tasting salt and musk and how fucking turned on she is. She cries out, hands flying to your hair, trying to pull you closer.
You pin her wrists to the mattress with one hand, use the other to spread her open wider.
“Keep your fucking hands to yourself or I stop.”
She sobs once, nodding frantically.
You eat her like you’re punishing her.
Suck her clit hard, flick your tongue against it in tight, mean circles, then pull back just when her thighs start to shake. Shove two fingers inside her without warning, pumping fast while you lap at her entrance, tasting every gush of fresh slick.
“So wet it’s obscene,” you mutter against her. “You’re making a puddle on my sheets. Can’t even pretend you don’t need this, can you? Came back just to get your cunt ruined again. Just to cry for me.”
She’s shaking now, whole body trembling, tears streaming down her temples into her hair. Every time you curl your fingers against that spot inside her she keens, high and broken.
“Say it,” you growl, sucking her clit again. “Say why you came back.”
“I—I came back to mmph to fuck ya” she chokes out, voice cracking. “T'let you u-use me.”
You add a third finger, stretch her open, fuck her fast and deep while your tongue lashes her clit without mercy.
“Once more.”
“I came back because—because I’m yours, okay? All yours, please let me come please!”
You bite the inside of her thigh, then soothe it with your tongue.
“Come then,” you snarl against her skin. “Come all over my fingers like a desperate slut who can’t stay away.”
She breaks.
Her back bows off the bed, thighs clamping around your head, cunt spasming so hard it forces your fingers deeper. She sobs your name over and over, tears soaking the pillow, body jerking with every brutal wave.
You finally pull back, crawl up her body and kiss her deep, messy, letting her taste herself on your tongue.
She’s still crying, clinging to you like you might disappear.
You pull back just enough to look at her flushed, tear-streaked face.
“Still all fucking mine?” you whisper, mocking her earlier words.
Pieck nods, frantic, eyes glassy.
“Always,” she rasps. “Even when you hate me.”
You smirk, wipe a tear from her cheek with your thumb, then push it between her lips so she can suck it clean. She roll her eyes back, your cunt is already clenching again at the sight. You lick your lips, letting her roam her hands in your body, playing with your nipples as she takes one on her mouth. You throw your head back for the stimulation, feeling her lap at your nipple while her other hand pinched the other. You're dripping down her abs, again.
"Pieck," you call her between gasps. She just lifts here eyes, not letting your nipple go. "I need more."
"More?" She laughs against your breasts. "Greedy girl, I'm here, just do whatever you want with me."
You take that literally, pushing her back again and moving until you're straddling her face.
"Oh, we're doing that," she swallows at the sight of your puffy lips and red clit, waiting for you to lower yourself in her face.
You hover just above her mouth, knees digging into the mattress on either side of her head, thighs trembling from how badly you want this.
Pieck’s hands come up immediately, gripping the backs of your thighs like she’s afraid you’ll change your mind and climb off. Her eyes are locked on your cunt.
“Sit on my fucking face already. Don’t tease.” she rasps, voice muffled against your skin.
“Of course, sweetheart,” you say.
You sink down slowly, until your folds spread over her mouth, clit brushing the bridge of her nose. The first contact makes you hiss. Her tongue is already there, flat and eager, lapping up every drop like she’s dying of thirst.
You grind once,then settle your full weight, not caring if you suffocate her. Her moan vibrates straight through your core, deep and desperate.
“Good girl,” you purr, rolling your hips in a circle. “Haah, you haven't lost practice, sugar plum.”
She laughs at the petname, the sound pairing perfectly with her licks. Her tongue dives deep while her nose nudges your clit with every breath she manages to steal. Her hands knead your ass, spreading you wider, pulling you down harder until she can barely breathe.
You reach back with one hand, find her dripping cunt again and drag two fingers through the slick before circling her clit with cruel precision. Light, teasing pressure at first, just enough to make her hips jerk up off the bed.
She whines into your pussy, the sound muffled and frantic.
You laugh again, low and vicious.
“Aw, already twitching? I’ve barely touched you.” You pinch her clit lightly between thumb and forefinger, rolling it. “Look how fucking sensitive you are. One orgasm and you’re already crying for the next one.”
Pieck’s response is incoherent, vibrating against your entrance as she sucks harder on your clit like she’s trying to pull the orgasm out of you by force. Her hips buck uselessly, chasing your fingers.
You speed up on her clit while you rock harder against her face, using her nose, her tongue, her whole face like a toy made just for you.
“Fuck, babyy,” you gasp, grinding down until her nose is buried against your clit and her tongue is as deep as it can go. “You love being my personal fucktoy after you ran away like a coward, mmhm?”
She’s shaking, hips jerking every time you flick her clit just right. Her moans are constant now, broken and so fucking needy.
You lean forward slightly, changing the angle so her tongue hits deeper while your fingers work her faster, curling hard against that spot that makes her sob into you. The room fills with slick noises, muffled whines and your own moans.
“Are you gonna cum or what?” you taunt, voice shaking with your own building pleasure.
She breaks almost instantly.
Her back arches off the mattress, thighs clamping around your hand, cunt spasming violently around your fingers as she comes with a muffled scream that sends vibrations ripping through you. Fresh slick gushes over your knuckles, her whole body convulses, hips grinding up into your palm like she can’t stop.
The feeling (her crying out against you, tongue still working frantically even as she falls apart) tips you over.
You grind down hard one last time, clit mashed against her nose, and come with a sharp, bitten-off curse. Your thighs lock around her head, hips stuttering as you ride out the waves, soaking her face, her mouth, her chin until she’s drenched in you.
When it finally ebbs, you don’t lift off right away.
You stay seated while you catch your breath, lazily circling her oversensitive clit with one fingertip just to feel her twitch and whimper beneath you.
Eventually you rise, just enough for her to gasp in a ragged breath.
Her face is a wreck: flushed, tear-streaked, shiny with your release, lips swollen and trembling. She looks up at you like you’re god and devil in the same skin.
You lean down, kiss her slow and filthy—tasting yourself on her tongue, tasting her tears, tasting how completely ruined she is for anyone else.
“Don't ever leave me again, you hear me?” you murmur against her mouth.
Pieck shakes her head weakly, arms wrapping around your waist like chains.
“Never,” she croaks, voice hoarse from crying and screaming. “I’m yours. Fucking keep me.”
You collapse beside her, both of you sprawled across the wrecked sheets. The room smells terrible after all of it. Moonlight slices through the half-open blinds, painting pale stripes across her tear-streaked face and the fresh bite marks blooming on her throat.
For a long minute, there’s only the sound of your breathing syncing up, like your bodies are remembering how to exist in the same space again without tearing each other apart.
Pieck turns her head toward you. Her ponytail’s long gone. She reaches out, slow, and traces the edge of your jaw with knuckles still trembling from aftershocks.
“You didn’t throw my shit out the window this time,” she murmurs. Almost soft. “Progress.”
You snort, catch her wrist before she can pull away, and press your lips to the pulse point there.
“Don’t get cocky. I still have your favorite jacket in a box under the bed. I sleep with it sometimes when I’m too drunk to pretend I don’t miss you.”
Her eyes darken at that. She rolls onto her side, props herself on one elbow so she’s looking down at you. The new scar on her collarbone catches the light; you want to drag your tongue over it again, claim it, remind it who it belongs to.
“You kept it,” she says quietly.
“Of course I fucking kept it.” You slide your hand up her ribs, fingers splaying possessive over the worst of the fresh marks. “Everything you leave behind ends up mine anyway. Clothes, scars, pieces of your stupid stubborn heart. You don’t get to walk away clean.”
Pieck leans down, brushes her lips over yours, just a ghost of contact. Her breath smells like you.
You cup the back of her neck, pull her the rest of the way down until your foreheads touch. Your free hand finds hers, lacing fingers tight enough.
“Stop leaving me,” you say, and it comes out quieter than you mean it to, almost pleading, which pisses you off. “Stop acting like you can survive out there without me. We both know you come crawling back every time because nothing else feels like home.”
She closes her eyes for a second.
“I tried,” she admits. Voice cracks on the words. “I really fucking tried to stay gone. Told myself I was protecting you. That if I died out there you wouldn’t have to watch it happen. But every night,” She swallows hard. “Every night I closed my eyes and all I saw was this bed. Your mouth. Your hands. The way you look at me like I’m the only thing that’s ever mattered and the only thing you want to destroy.”
You tighten your grip on her hand until her knuckles blanch.
“Good,” you breathe. “Because if you disappear one more time without telling me first, I’ll hunt you down myself. I’ll drag you back by your fucking ponytail and chain you to this bed until you forget what the outside world even looks like.”
Pieck laughs, the sound vibrating against your chest when she finally presses her body fully along yours. Skin to skin. Heartbeat to heartbeat.
“Promise?” she murmurs, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. Her lips brush the old scar she left there years ago.
You turn your head, catch her mouth in a slow, deep kiss. No teeth this time. Just tongues sliding lazy and possessive, tasting the remnants of everything you’ve already done to each other.
When you pull back, you rest your forehead against hers again.
“Every single day you’re here,” you say, “I’m going to remind you why you can’t leave. I’ll fuck you until you’re crying my name. I’ll kiss every scar you come back with until you forget how you got them. And if you ever try to run again?” You slide your hand down to rest over her heart, pressing hard. “I’ll rip mine out and hand it to you so you have to carry it. So you can’t ever pretend you’re whole without me.”
Pieck’s breath hitches. She curls tighter against you, leg hooking over your hip, arm wrapping around your waist like she’s trying to fuse your bodies together.
“I’m not running,” she whispers. “You’ve got me. The broken parts, the bloody parts, the parts that still want to bite you back. Keep them. They’re yours.”
You kiss her temple.
“I missed you so fucking much, Pieck,” you say against her skin. She hums in agreement.
(Featuring: Tomura Shigaraki, Dabi, Toga Himiko, Spinner, Twice, and Mr Compress)
Tomura Shigaraki
Tomura didn't scream when you died.
Your chest stopped rising under his bloodied hands, your mouth parted as if you still had something left to say. His brain refused to accept it. His heart beat on like a cruel joke, each thud an insult against your stillness.
He just stared.
The world around him fell away, peeled back like skin. Sound drowned in static. Colors dimmed to ash.
He touched your face—bare, reckless—and this time he wanted his quirk to activate. He wanted to rot the world into dust starting with himself. But nothing happened. Your skin, once so alive beneath him, was already too far gone for death to touch twice.
His hands shook as he cradled you, bones creaking under the weight of a grief too dense, too vicious to name.
"Look at me," he hissed, voice a cracked, ugly thing. "Wake up. Wake the fuck up."
But your eyes stayed closed. Peaceful. Distant. Like you had taken all the light with you.
Something feral, something ancient and monstrous, crawled out of him then. A choked, animalistic sound burst from his throat as he pulled you closer, pressing his face into your chest, into the hollow where your heartbeat should have been.
He stayed there, teeth gritted, jaw locked so tight it ached, trembling so violently it seemed like the earth itself shook with him. His nails scraped shallow gouges into his own arms without noticing.
"You stupid... liar," Tomura whispered against your skin, voice soaked in venom and sorrow. "You said you'd stay... you said... you said..."
He was supposed to die first. That was the deal. He was the monster, the ruined thing, the villain. Well you were a villain too but.. You didn't deserve- A sharp, ugly laugh tore from him. It echoed over the battlefield, eerie and broken, before dying into silence.
He buried you in his arms, cradling the corpse of the only thing he ever loved, as the world rotted inside him.
For the first time, Tomura Shigaraki wished his hands had worked.
He would have crumbled the whole fucking earth just to follow you into whatever cold, dark place you had gone.
And he would have done it smiling.
Dabi
Ash hung in the air like a funeral shroud, the fires crackling and popping in the hollow silence.
You were collapsed against the rubble, blood soaking into the cracked ground, skin too pale in the blue light of the flames.
Dabi stood over you, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides.
He stared down, swallowing hard against the knot in his throat.
"Figures," he said, voice rough and low. "You always were a goddamn idiot."
He dropped to his knees beside you, jacket brushing against the dirt. His hands hovered uselessly in the air — twitching forward, jerking back — like he couldn't decide whether to hold you or let you go.
Your eyes opened, barely, and you smiled when you saw him.
That same soft, stupid smile you always gave him.
Like he wasn’t a monster. Like he was worth something.
"I’m... sorry," you breathed.
Dabi’s jaw tightened.
He scoffed, looking away like he couldn't bear to see you like this.
"Don’t," he muttered. "Don’t say sorry. I shoulda known you'd pull some shit like this."
Your hand reached for him — slow, shaking — and he caught it halfway, his own hand hot and trembling as he gripped yours too tight, like he could anchor you here by force.
"I love you," you whispered, like it was the last secret you had left.
For a second, Dabi didn’t move.
Didn’t breathe.
His stitched-up face twisted, something ugly and desperate flickering through his blue eyes.
He laughed — sharp, broken — the sound punching through the smoke like a blade.
"You're such a fucking idiot," he said, voice cracking hard enough to shatter.
You smiled again — smaller now, fading — and then your hand slipped from his fingers, falling away into the dust.
Gone.
Dabi just sat there, staring down at you.
The fires guttered low around him.
The world felt cold, even with the flames licking at his heels.
He blinked slowly, and for a terrifying moment, he thought about setting the whole goddamn world on fire.
Leveling every street, every building, every face that ever existed.
Instead, he leaned down, forehead pressing against your cold one, breathing you in one last time.
"You’re such a pain in my ass," he whispered, so quietly even he barely heard it.
He stayed like that for a long, long time, until the fires around him finally died, and the night swallowed the ruins whole.
When he stood, he didn’t look back.
Couldn’t.
His hands were steady now.
Steady and burning.
And even though he didn’t cry, even though he didn't scream your name to the heavens, Dabi knew —
somewhere deep in the hollow, scorched thing that used to be his heart —
that he would never forgive the world for letting you die.
And he would never forgive himself for letting you love him first.
Toga Himiko
The first thing Himiko Toga saw was the blood.
So much of it, soaking your clothes, staining the ground beneath you.
Her heart fluttered in her chest.
"You look so cute like that!" she chirped as she skipped toward you, knife twirling lazily in her hand. "All messy and red and —"
She stopped.
Something in her stomach twisted, sharp and wrong.
The way your body was slumped. The way your chest barely moved.
Her smile faltered.
"...Hey?" she said, voice smaller now, unsure.
She took a few slow steps closer, the knife slipping from her fingers and clattering to the ground unnoticed.
You turned your head toward her, sluggish and weak, blood dripping from your mouth.
"Himiko..." you rasped.
The last of the warmth drained from her excitement, leaving something heavy and cold behind.
She dropped to her knees, scrambling to reach you.
"No, no, no," she whispered, hands flying over you, trying to stop the bleeding, trying to fix it, but it was too much — too deep — too late.
"You’re not supposed to look like this," she said, voice cracking. "I like blood, but not when it means... not when it means this!"
Tears welled in her wide golden eyes.
"You’re supposed to be okay," she whispered fiercely, like if she said it enough, it would be true. "You're supposed to stay with me!"
You managed a faint smile.
Even now, you still tried to make her feel better.
"I'm sorry," you breathed.
Toga shook her head wildly, blonde hair whipping across her tear-streaked face.
"No! Don’t say sorry! I love you!" she sobbed, grabbing your hand and pressing it to her cheek. "I love you, okay? Just stay! Just stay and love me back!"
You tried to squeeze her fingers.
Tried.
But your hand was already slipping away from hers.
"No, no, no," she chanted under her breath, rocking you back and forth. "You promised me! You said we'd find someplace quiet! You said we could just be together! You can’t leave! You can't!"
You blinked slowly at her, your body trembling with the last shreds of strength.
"I love you too," you whispered.
And then you were gone.
The world tilted sideways around her.
The night pressed in, thick and suffocating.
She stayed there long after your body had gone cold,
clutching the memory of your touch like a bruise she didn’t want to heal.
The stars above blinked, uncaring,
and the night swallowed her soft, broken promises.
You had been warmth.
You had been laughter.
You had been the only thing in a world of sharp edges that hadn’t tried to cut her.
And now you were just a silence she couldn’t stop screaming into.
Toga closed her eyes, pressing her forehead to where your heart used to beat.
"If love means hurting," she whispered,
"then I’ll hurt forever, if it means I can keep you with me."
The blood dried.
The world moved on.
But Himiko Toga stayed kneeling in the ruins,
loving a ghost who had never once made her feel like she was a monster.
Spinner
Spinner found you lying there, broken under the cracked glow of a streetlamp.
The blood around you had already begun to dry, black and sticky against the concrete.
Your hand was curled toward your chest, like you had been trying to hold yourself together.
He stumbled forward, dropping to his knees so hard it rattled through his bones.
For a second — one terrible second — he thought you might still be breathing.
That maybe if he just touched you, you’d blink awake and smile that small, tired smile you always saved for him.
“Hey,” he rasped, reaching for your face with shaking hands.
Your skin was still warm.
Still you.
But your chest didn’t rise.
Your lips didn’t move.
The world blurred at the edges, spinning out into something weightless and cruel.
He pressed his forehead to yours, feeling the cold creep in between them.
“Wake up,” he begged, voice hoarse, breaking apart.
“Come on. Please. Wake up. You promised.”
But you didn’t move.
You never would again.
He stayed there, curled around your body as the smoke thickened and the sirens wailed.
When the others finally found him, they had to pry him off you, piece by piece.
Spinner didn’t even fight.
He just sat there, empty hands in his lap, watching the world move on without you.
And in the hollow where his heart used to be, something cracked and bled and didn’t stop.
Not for a long, long time.
Twice
Twice sprinted through the smoke, his coat flapping behind him,
panic clawing up his throat.
He found you lying there — broken, bleeding — your body half-crushed under the rubble.
Your hand twitched once, weakly, reaching for nothing.
“No, no, no — no way, this isn’t happening!” he gasped, falling to his knees beside you.
He fumbled at the rocks, scraping his hands bloody trying to pull you free.
“You’re fine! You’re gonna be fine!” he said.
Then, in the same breath,
“You’re dead. You’re dead and it’s my fault.”
The words tangled over each other, panic and denial fighting for space in his mouth.
He finally uncovered you, dragging you into his lap.
Your eyes fluttered open, just for a second — just long enough to find his.
You smiled, small and broken and soft,
the kind of smile that gutted him worse than any wound.
“Jin...” you whispered.
And then you went still.
Twice stared down at you, his whole body trembling.
“No— no, no, no, come on! Wake up! Wake UP!”
He shook you gently at first, then harder, desperate to undo it.
He would have ripped the world in half if it meant getting you back.
“You said you’d come home! You promised!”
His voice cracked, high and wild and full of too many people —
the broken man he used to be, the fighter he tried to become —
all crumbling in his arms.
He held you close, rocking you back and forth like a child,
muttering nonsense under his breath.
“It’s okay, you’re just sleeping.
You’ll wake up and yell at me for being dramatic.
You’ll laugh and hit me and tell me I’m an idiot.”
A wet, broken laugh bubbled from his lips.
“I'm an idiot. I'm such an idiot.”
But you didn’t move.
You didn’t even breathe.
Twice curled himself around you, hiding you from the world,
shielding you the only way he knew how —
even though it was too late.
When the others found him, he didn’t let go.
Didn’t speak.
Didn’t even blink.
He just clung to you like you were still his,
like if he held on tight enough,
maybe you wouldn’t slip away too.
Mr Compress
Mr. Compress wasn’t fast enough.
He found you collapsed in the wreckage of a shattered street,
the night choking on smoke and ash around you.
You lay sprawled on the concrete, blood spilling out from under you in a slow, terrible bloom.
He knelt beside you in silence, his coat brushing against the dust and broken glass.
His gloved hands hovered over your body — careful, desperate —
as if afraid he might hurt you more just by touching you.
You were still warm.
Still soft.
Still the person he had allowed himself to care for, against every instinct to stay detached.
“A performance cut far too short,” he murmured, voice cracking despite the way he tried to steady it.
He reached to lift your mask, brushing his fingers gently over your cheek.
Your eyes, half-open, stared past him — glassy and far away.
Your chest didn’t rise.
The stage had already gone dark.
Compress bowed his head, his hands trembling where they gripped yours.
“I should have been here sooner,” he whispered.
The words tasted like failure in his mouth,
like ashes and broken promises.
He stayed there with you, even as the battle raged on around him —
the sirens, the shouting, the chaos.
None of it mattered.
The world could end tonight, and all he would remember was this:
the way you looked in the final act,
the way he hadn’t saved you.
When the others came, they tried to pull him away.
Gently, at first.
Then firmer.
But Compress didn’t resist.
He only pressed one gloved hand over your heart —
where it should have been beating
—
and murmured a final, broken line, half prayer, half goodbye.
“A magician’s greatest tragedy is losing what he cannot bring back.”
Rumi's eyes narrow, expression scrunched up in distaste as you flick the water droplets at the ends of your fingers in her face. Each flick, enunciating your words as you soak the washcloth in the warm water, wringing it just enough before you're wiping away the blood from her face.
Warm hands bracket the backs of your thighs as she peers up at you, slumped back against the cistern of the closed toilet. The light dimmed, Rumi's long lashes flutter as she watches you, your brows knitted into a little frown, plush lips tugged downwards at the corners and you don't even meet her eyes.
Staring down at her as you clean away the scuffs and wounds that litter her face, honey toned skin flushing just a bit at the warmth of the cloth, but also, at how gently you're taking care of her.
Manicured fingers cradling her jaw, tipping her face towards you, your thumb absentmindedly stroking the hollow beneath her plump bottom lip.
"S'not like I died." Bad move.
Rumi watches the way your movements halt, breath stuttering in your lungs and you glare at her.
"I'll kill you myself." You grit out, gripping her chin just a bit harder but still, just as gentle. Just more firm. "You keep starting shit with villains. You don't need to goad people, Rumi. In and out. Efficient. Clean. Safe."
You huff, jaw clenching.
"Last time you fucked around and found out, you got stabbed in the ass."
Rumi snorts at the memory. The way she'd been carried home, refusing actual medical care and instead, choosing to go home, and get yelled at for not being careful enough. She'd fallen asleep, cradled against your chest but when she woke up, you'd been dragging your fingers through her silvery hair whilst a doctor stitched the wound.
"It's not funny." You hiss. "That knife could've been dirty. Haven't you seen Hamlet?"
Rumi shrugs, noncommittal as she peers up at you, watching you with keen eyes as you disinfect each of the cuts on her face.
"Why would I watch a boring ass movie if I could just have you tell me what happens?" Her lips cock in that easy grin, but your fingers dig into her cheeks, forcing her lips into a pout.
"Everyone dies." You deadpan. "Laertes dies by a poison tipped sword. Hamlet dies the same way. You see what I'm getting at?"
She watches you and there isn't a thought behind those crimson pools, irises stretched thin around dilated pupils, rough fingertips tracing patterns against your skin where your shorts had ridden up.
"Wasn't a sword that stabbed me though."
"Rumi!" You groan, exhausted, shoulders slumping. "I'm telling you that you need to be—"
"Yeah, yeah," She waves a hand dismissively, "be careful."
Your lips press into a thin line, eyes narrowing and you press the disinfectant-soaked cotton ball against her skin abruptly, just to hear her wince.
"Don't do that." Your continues to tend to her, the crease between your brows deepens but your voice is quiet and she lets out a quiet breath. Arms wrapping around your middle, pulling you closer and she presses her face against your chest.
Your fingers rake through her hair, snowy strands falling from your grasp like water, and you're careful when you untangle the knots from her hair, your nails scratching against her scalp in all the ways she likes.
And she grinds her teeth, throat muscles vibrating just a bit and she purrs, face tucked away in your chest, the softness of her cheeks brushing against the swells of your breasts. Obscured from view by the ratty, old 'Pro Hero: Mirko' T-shirt you refuse to toss.
Edges frayed, stains left behind from hot oil and random, stray threads.
And her hands scale up the backs of your thighs, the warmth of your body luring her like some kind of siren song and her fingertips sink into the fat of your ass.
And she inhales the sweetness of your skin.
"You smell nice." She mumbles softly, before tipping her head back, chin resting against your sternum and you push her hair out of her face, clearing the strands that reflect the golden light of the bathroom so prettily.
And you hum softly.
"I used your lotion." And she lets out a sleepy giggle at your words, her ears twitching, resting languidly at the sides of her head and you trail your fingers along the soft fur, feeling the way her chest heaves, breath stuttering in her lungs.
And Rumi's skin goes warm.
"Don't touch my ears." Her voice is quiet, barely audible over the sound of raindrops pelting outside the bathroom window. "Drives me crazy when you do that."
And you shift, peeking down her back to where that puffball tail's twitching, wagging erratically from side to side and your brows raise.
"Is that cause you're pissed off?" You hum quietly, and Rumi shakes her head, before pulling back, ruby irises dark and she swallows, her tongue swiping across her plump bottom lip.
"Can we—"
"—If you eat first."
.
.
.
.
Your gaze flickers to the way Rumi's head tips back, jaw slack and snores slipping from her, the carrot in her hand held with an iron grip and she lets out a deep breath, slumping even further against the mountain of pillows behind her.
And you sigh, expression softening and heart swelling at the way she shifts, face tucking itself into your pillow but she just keeps snoring.
Downright demonic sounds leaving her. And you snort, reaching for the half-eaten carrot in her hand, stifling your laughter at the way the veins in the back of her hand bulge beneath her sunkissed skin, her grip tightening.
"Greedy." You murmur softly, raking your fingers through her hair before you dip your head, soft lips ghosting over her temple and you flick off the light, shuffling into the spot beside her.
A heavy leg tossed across your belly instantly, her chin on your shoulder and her head tipped back, and it really feels like she's snoring at you.
Eyes fluttered shut, lips parted and ears twitching, and you sigh.
The urge to poke her uvula burns at you, your finger itching but you've seen Rumi bite a carrot in half without even trying.
So you swallow, your eyes shutting and you try to sleep.
⊹♡🐇♡⊹
You don't know how many hours pass, but it's still dark out.
The moon's high in the star-studded sky, endless darkness stretching over the city and Rumi's face is tucked into your chest, her body pressed against yours. Thick, muscular legs entangled with yours, fuzzy socks tickling the backs of your calves and she stirs.
Abruptly. Violently, even.
"Baby, baby," Rumi taps your shoulder like it's an emergency, and you inhale sharply, disorientated as you peer up at her, "Huh? What's happening? What's going on?"
There's drool trickling down your bottom lip, there's crust in the corners of Rumi's eyes and she's barely awake.
"M'awake." She breathes out. "Let's do sex."
Your lashes flutter, and your expression scrunches in disbelief before you groan, shifting and turning away from Rumi.
"Bunny, 's..." You trail off, before lifting your phone, glancing at the time displayed on your lockscreen, "it's... 3am. We're not 'doing sex'."
A muscular arm curls around your waist, her hips pressing against yours and she pulls you closer.
"You don't even hafta do anythin'..." She slurs, breath hot against your skin. "Jus'... Go to sleep.."
Your brows furrow, and you shift. "What?" And Rumi snores, loud. Eyes shut, lashes fluttering and twitching and you groan, face tucked into your pillow, inhaling the scent of Rumi's shampoo because she manages to push you off it halfway through the night.
Every night.
And you shift, nearly yelping as something cold, hard and damp brushes against your thigh, and you shift, lifting the covers and it takes your eyes a while to adjust to the carrot tucked beneath your thigh.
"Oh, fucks' sake." You mumble, reaching down and you pick up the condensation-coated veggie, before setting it down on your nightstand.
You turn in her arms, leg hooking itself around her hip and Rumi nuzzles against you, nose twitching and her hands shift, tucking themselves into the back of your panties, cradling the warm fat of your ass. And you let out a sleepy sob.
"Rumi..." You complain. "Your hands are cold."
And she just shifts, hands tucked away and you sigh, letting out a sleepy and dejected sigh, before sinking your fingers into her hair, threading through the moonlit strands.
"Nevermind."
And it's quiet. So still and peaceful, breaths mingling and heartbeats steady.
And your eyes flicker open.
"Rumi, get your finger away from my ass."
.
.
.
.
"Rumi!"
And she giggles. "S'tight."
⊹♡🐇♡⊹
"Oh god..." Your voice cracks, cheek pressed against the warmth of Rumi's chest, her finger buried in the tight, furled hole of your ass and your hands fist the fabric of her tanktop.
Her finger pumps slowly, the methodical curls against the soft and sensitive walls have your brain melting, face tucked between the soft swells of her breasts, your ears burning hot.
And she hums.
Rumi's awake. And very, very ready to knock you out.
Her hand's buried between your thighs, one of them hiked up over her hip, middle finger nestled in your ass while her pudgy thumb circles your swollen clit, tracing down your leaking slit and dipping narrowly into your aching core.
"Awh, baby," Rumi teases, "you're so wet 'n needy, aren't you?"
Her voice is a low, husky coo, her thumb tracing along your sloppy folds, pressing down against your clit when she feels the little bud twitch against her.
And she pulls away. And you're needy.
Panting out hot breaths, your fingers bitten by the chilly cold and she tuts you, gently, shifting until she's hovering over you, her tongue dragging along the shell of your ear. And you swallow.
Your brain feels practically useless. Just a clump of cells and neurons, their legs asplayed like tiny, microscopic whores.
And she gently rucks up the fabric of your shirt, and she hums.
"I can't believe you paid to get a signed T-shirt." She mumbles under her breath, crimson gaze flickering towards your face and you hum quietly.
"Was on sale."
"You could've gotten any of your T-shirts signed for free."
And you bite your bottom lip. "Technically, it was free. I used your money."
And those full, pretty lips purse in contemplation before she shrugs. "I didn't think of it that way."
Rumi's lips press soft kiss and nips against your skin, lips trailing down your torso, down your sternum and she glances down towards where your thighs are parted obscenely, cunt glistening.
And she sighs.
"Such a pretty, pretty pussy." Her voice is a purr, ears twitching and tail flicking as she dips her head, her tongue swiping over your hood before she shifts her body. The tip of her tongue starting right at the bottom of your entrance, before she curls it, all the way to the top.
And you moan.
Your fingers sinking into her hair, pushing back those silvery strands, and you hold her hair into a ponytail, feeling the way the tresses tickle your palms and Rumi peers up at you through her lashes.
Head lowering and her tongue flat against your clit.
Just to feel the way you twitch.
"Play with my ears." She murmurs, and you don't wait, fingers stroking along the softness of her fur and she moans.
Lips finding purchase around your puffy clit, before she's sucking so earnestly, hands roaming up your sides, cupping your breasts and brushing her thumbs along your buds until their peak.
Stiff beneath her thumbs as she keeps lapping at your cunt.
"You taste so sweet, honey." She coos. "So perfect, so pretty. So mine."
Her nose and chin are covered in your slick, tongue making those tight circles until she feels your thighs against her temples. You're scratching her ears, her brain's a mess and all she wants, is to feel the way your cunt squeezes around her tongue.
The wet muscle wriggles around in your hole, textured surface brushing along your walls and her nose bumps against your cunt.
You glance towards her back, arched so prettily, tail flicking from side to side and your nose is filled with that sweet, sweet scent of pheromones.
You don't need to look to know she's soaking through her panties, hips writhing and twitching against nothing, the fabric of her panties taut around the curves of her ass.
And you're staring, entranced. Fingers tracing along those bunny ears, that you barely even notice when you're coming.
Not until your eyes are squeezing shut and Rumi's flicking her tongue against your clit, nose pushing up that pretty hood so she can make better contact. And you're soaking the sheets, slick on her face and she lifts her head, lashes batting.
And she's reaching over you, into the nightstand and pulling out that 9 inch strap that has you choking on air each time she uses it.
Rumi adjusts the harness like it's what she was born to do, and she's gently (not really) flopping you onto your belly, grabbing pillows and stuffing them beneath your hips until you're forced into a mean arch.
Your body soft and pliable beneath her as she reaches back into the nightstand, until she's pulling out a wand. Gaze lowered towards the buttons and she flicks it on, gently sliding it under you.
The soft, rubbery head right against your clit and your lips part, feeling the way she notches that silicone tip against your cunt.
And she slides in, in one easy movement.
Her elbows braced on either side of you, knees dimpling the mattress and her arm hooks around your throat, bicep bulging against your cheek.
And she fucks.
Mean, deep strokes, her hips colliding with the fat of your ass, the room filling with lewd, slick sounds and the buzz of a vibrator that's placed so perfectly that each time she fucks into you, that wand is there to catch you.
Knocking the wind out of you, but catching you nonetheless.
"Fuck," she breathes out, "you're always so fuckin' pretty when you're taking this strap." Her lips press against your temple, panted breaths ghosting over your features and your eyes glaze over.
"Always slides right in, doesn't it, honey?" She sighs, almost dreamily. "Sometimes I wish I had a dick, jus' so I could feel what that nasty pussy feels like."
Her tongue drags along your ear, hips smacking against yours.
"So, I could fuck you nasty for real."
All you're doing is drooling. So fucked out that your hips are twitching with your next orgasm. It builds. Like a fucking tidal wave, your breaths panted and you're pushing your ass back against her, only to be slammed back against that vibrator.
Rumi's thighs flex with each brutal pistol, tits pressed against your back and God. This muscular, 5 foot 2 woman is wrecking you in a way that would make men envious.
And you're coming. Nails digging into her forearm, lashes fluttering and clumped as your eyes roll back in your head, and Rumi stops, instead, grinding that silicone tip against that gooey spot that she could navigate from 3 streets away, keeping you pressed against that vibrating wand until your moans are turning into screams.
And you're thrashing like some kind of feral animal.
"Fuck, that's it." She grins wolfishly. "Come some more. Soak these fuckin' sheets."
You squirt.
Leaking through the sheets, nearly giving the toy water damage as you shake, your thighs coated in your slick and your brain effectively shut off.
And Rumi sighs in delight, pulling out of you and she looks down at where your cunt trickles messily, and she turns off the toy.
Moving your body like you weigh nothing, discarding the strap and she steps out of the sodden puddle that is her panties, before resting back against the headboard, thighs on either side of you.
"You gonna get me off too, pretty?" Her voice is so saccharine, long lashes fluttering as she watches the way you shift closer to her, legs still shaky and you nod weakly.
"Mhm." You murmur, hands moving to spread her inner thighs further apart.
And Rumi sighs, melting against the headboard when she feels the way your tongue moves between her puffy pussy lips, her hand moving to cradle the back of your neck, the other pushing her hair out of her face.
Honey toned skin flushed from exertion. And she coos at the way your tongue curls just right, and her head tips back.
"You wan' me to spread it for you?" She questions sweetly and you nod, jaw going slack when you watch her pretty fingers spread her folds, sensitive flesh bared for your eyes and your eyes alone.
And her muscular thighs tense when you dip your head once more, circling her clit so earnestly, your fingers digging into the thickness of her thighs, massaging the muscles so adoringly.
This makes her so happy that she's a woman. The way your cheeks flush and your nose glistens whenever it bumps against her sloppiness.
Her fingers card through your hair gently, blunt nails scratching at your scalp and she bites her bottom lip, watching with avid eyes as you dip your tongue into her cunt.
And her ears twitch.
"You're such a sweet girl for me." She sighs softly, mocha-toned thighs trembling on either sides of your head.
characters: Annie Leonhart, Armin Arlert, Eren Yeager, Erwin Smith, Hange Zoe, Jean Kirschtein, Mikasa Ackerman, Levi Ackerman, Reiner Braun, Ymir
Warnings: Pre-established relationship, fluff
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Annie Leonhart:
She doesn't like to sleep cuddling very much
Annie prefers to have her personal space, but if you want she can take your hands or wrap her legs around yours
She sleeps quietly as if she's dead
She also tends to curl up when sleeping
Everything has to be dark for her to sleep
Girl sleeps like stone
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Armin Arlert:
Armin is super needy while sleeping
He holds you as close and tight as possible
Sometimes he mumbles unintelligible things in his sleep
He plays with your hair until you fall asleep
He always gives you a goodnight kiss on your forehead
He also tucks you in before sleeping
If he wakes up earlier or can't sleep, he'll quietly admire you while you sleep
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Eren Yeager:
Eren likes to wake you up by wrapping his arms around you from behind and resting his chin on your shoulder
When you can't sleep, he rubs your back until you do so
He loves it when you sleep on his chest and he plays with your hair
He's a light sleeper and wakes up at any move you make
You're the little spoon by the way, whether you like it or not.
He snores and moves around a lot while sleeping, even kicking off the sheets
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Erwin Smith:
Just like Annie, he stops completely while sleeping. He doesn't twitch or move at all and becomes quiet and still like he's dead
Because of his work, he has a terrible sleep schedule
He's a very deep sleeper and only wakes up if you shake him
If he has a free day, he'd like to spend all of it in bed with you
He always pulls you to sleep on his chest
He usually sleeps shirtless
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Hange Zoe:
Hange is a deep sleeper and it's almost impossible to wake them up
They whisper random nonsense in their sleep
Hange sleeps on their belly with one arm dangling from the bed or hugging you
Hange is prob the worse person to share a bed with
They often toss and turn, steal your blanket, and sometimes even hits you in their sleep
Sometimes you wake up with them sleeping fully on top of you
Hange also drools a lot
She takes a lot of time to fall asleep and keeps tossing and turning until do so
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Jean Kirschtein:
He steals the blankets from you
He always has an arm wrapped around you
Snores if he's really tired, but it's cute snores not the annoying ones
When he sleeps deeply, he can spend more than 12 hours sleeping
He also steals your pillow
Talks super embarrassing things in his sleep
Clings onto you like a koala
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Mikasa Ackerman:
Mikasa has insomnia
When she finally manages to sleep, she sleeps deeply and doesn't move around
She's an early riser and sometimes makes breakfast for you
She likes both being the big and the little spoon
Being the big spoon, she feels like she can protect you and that's how you two sleep most nights
But there are some times where she's feeking more vulnerable or even sad where she wants to be the little spoon
Mikasa is the type to hold you super tightly
If she wakes up in the middle of the night, she always checks on you to make sure you're comfy. If she notices that you're tossing and turning too much, she'll try to hold you closer or adjust your blankets to see if it helps
She also gets super worried when she wakes up in the middle of the night and you aren't there, even knowing that you're prob in the bathroom or in the kitchen
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Levi Ackerman:
He won't admit it but he loves cuddling you, especially when he's stressed or when it's a cold night
Just like Mikasa, he always has an arm tightly wrapped around you as if to protect you
He also loves giving and receiving soft kisses. He could spend hours just kissing your face
He's a light sleeper and will wake up at any little move you make
He loves it when you sleep wearing his shirts
His sleep schedule is completely shitty
Sometimes, he has nightmares and would never wake you up because of them because he doesn't want to "bother" you
He usually just pulls you close and plays with your hair, listening to your heartbeat
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Reiner Braun:
Reiner tendss to kick his blankets off while sleeping and then steals your covers
He snores quietly but if you ever bring it up he'll deny it to death
He always has his arms wrapped around you while sleeping
He always falls asleep while watching movies with you
Please lay on his chest while he holds you
Reiner loves cuddling you from behind, his front pressed against your back as he wraps his big arms around your waist. He nuzzles his face into your neck as murmurs soft words
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Ymir:
Ymir always rolls over and clings onto you in her sleep
Girl is obsessed with nuzzling her face into your breasts (She says that that's the only way she can sleep comfortably)
She holds you so tight that sometimes you can't breathe
She snores softly and sometimes she even drools
Ymir moves a lot in her sleep and you already woke up a few times because she accidentally hit you
When you aren't there to sleep with her, she hugs your pillow so she can smell your scent and remember of you
WARNING! THIS FILE IS CORRUPTED WITH THE FOLLOWING MALWARE: infidelity, mommy kink, light vouyerism, oral (f!receiving), fingering, fantasies, dom!ochaco
NOTES: repost from my old blog. lightly proofread. everyone say welcome back woodrow. ~3.1k words.
ochaco was… well, she was overwhelmed, to state it simply.
she had always dreamt of a perfect life without having to care about money, and she got it. she had always dreamt of being an amazing and helpful hero, and she got that, too. and finally, she had always dreamt of being a wife and a mother. she had managed to achieve that as well, having a powerful husband and two little children running around at her ankles whenever she returned home, always happy to see mommy.
but, as life always goes, she was still unsatisfied.
marrying a high-school sweetheart was the wish of every woman, of course. she had thought herself lucky to have found someone so young. izuku had been the man of her dreams for quite some time, but they sealed the deal in third year after two long school years filled with pining.
and he had fulfilled her in the only ways he knew how: he was sweet, funny, bashful… but he was quick to rise in the ranks. he married her and it was all for the public. and then he got busier and busier, less caring to her and more work-oriented. she was lucky if he saw him twice a day. she was often left alone with the heavy burden of being a hero and a mother of two young children that took after their rowdy father.
she was overwhelmed. and she was exhausted. which is why she put out an ad under a pseudonym, looking for a full-time babysitter to help her with her woes.
that’s how she ended up with you at her doorstep, nervously clutching your purse that held your printed resume and a reference from your old job.
you loved kids. you loved being around them, caring for them, and just helping other parents take a break. you had left your previous job at a daycare to pursue the nanny life, wanting to help shape kids who needed some extra time.
but all of that went out the window when pro-hero uravity was the one opening the door, looking tired and a little messy and oh so beautiful.
she was your favorite pro. you had admired her from afar, watching her slowly rise in the ranks and admiring her honesty for why she was a hero in the first place. you valued her strengths and honestly didn’t understand why she wasn’t as popular as her husband. now she was standing in front of you, pink cheeks swelled and soft from her older age of thirty five, robe tied loosely around her and hugging her round figure. she was built on dense muscle but she was soft in the middle from having two kids and it looked spectacular on her.
the two of you sized one another up. you swallowed a little, and opened your mouth to say something, but a sudden crash resounded from the living room, making both of you jolt.
“haru! tadashi! what are you two doing in there?!” ochaco nervously shouted back, stepping into the house and leaving enough entryway for you to go in. your feet moved before your brain could compute, and you hurried into the living room, shucking your purse and shoes in the foyer before heading in.
“hi guys,” you smiled at the two kids (which, notably, looked almost exactly like izuku did). one of them, whose freckles stuck out on his cheeks and neck, immediately hopped to his feet. “mommy! mommy! a stranger’s in here!”
“it’s fine, i’m a friend!” you quickly shook your head and surveyed the damage. the boys had been building an unstable lego tower, which had crashed completely onto the glass coffee table. the other boy hopped to his feet too, following his older brother. “stranger! get out!”
“it’s fine, guys, really.” you laughed and dropped to your knees, looking over the base of the structure. “what were you guys building?”
the eldest, still skeptical of your arrival, squinted at you. “we were rebuilding the tokyo tower, but haru pushed it over.”
“did not!” the youngest, now identified as haru, pouted and stamped his foot into the carpet.
“did too!”
“did n-”
“you guys need a stronger base.” you hastily interrupted their bickering by sweeping the fallen pieces onto the floor, making them forget their plight and turn to you as you started to explain. “the tower is big at the bottom and gets smaller towards the top. if you want to make a smaller one, you have to make it nice and big at the bottom. look.”
the two boys sat and watched you build a square base for their tower with rapt attention, nodding along. the eldest, most likely tadashi, punched his hand into his fist. “that makes more sense! it won’t fall so easy if it's big on the bottom!”
“uh, yeah!” haru nodded, not understanding quite as much but clearly wanting to seem cool. you smiled anyway and passed them the blocks that you had in your hands.
“here, keep going. you’ll have your own tokyo tower soon.”
they both start to continue to build up and up, and you get to your feet and dust your knees off, finally turning to where your gracious, gorgeous host was watching, slack-jawed.
your face heated a bit in your own embarrassment; you really had just intruded on her home and stepped into a situation she could have handled. you walked up to her, wringing your hands together. “mrs. midoriya-”
“they’ve never calmed down so quickly.” she steepled her hands under her nose, watching her boys - her rowdy, loud, over-excitable boys - play calmly as if nothing had happened.
you glanced between the children and ochaco before just smiling sheepishly. “i, uh… i’ve always been really good with kids. i love them.”
ochaco was quiet for a moment, glancing you up and down, making your face feel ever-hotter under her clearly appreciative gaze.
she dropped her hands from her face and shoved one out towards you, her pinky curled into her palm to prevent you from floating when you took it to shake.
“you’re hired.”
you lived in the house for a short month, and in that time you had come to know the inner workings of the midoriya’s.
their home was only happy to the press. you had maybe met pro-hero deku exactly once, when he stopped home for dinner. he had looked at you with his brows furrowed, asking ochaco who you were and why you were occupying the guest room. ochaco was happy to explain that she needed the help with the kids between her work, because she worked too, which he seemed to always forget.
he had had the gall to nod, smile at you in greeting, and then ask ochaco when dinner was going to be served because he had a meeting to get to across japan.
you had decided, then, that the big pro-hero deku wasn’t as jovial as the tabloids had made him out to be.
you were the one to help dress the kids for school. you brushed out their unruly hair and made sure they ate all of their breakfast. you walked them to school, and then you went back to your new home to watch ochaco bustle around in a frenzy before going to her agency to start patrol.
she always gave you a tight hug in the morning before she left. always. with each hug you felt yourself falling more and more in love with her.
you knew she was out of your league, of course. she was a pro-hero, a married one at that. you couldn’t be crushing on the woman you so graciously took you in when you were looking for a job. but you couldn’t help it. you had slowly became her rock, the one to rely on instead of her always-away husband who barely made time for her or his children.
it was one event that shifted the dynamic between you two and left you with far more questions than you had answers to.
she had known you were home. she had to have. you had dropped a pot in the kitchen while cleaning up. and yet here you were, standing in the darkened hallway while the white light of the bathroom poured out through the crack in the ajar door.
it was late. the boys were asleep. you two were the only ones awake. she had gone in to shower. she should know better than to leave the door open, and yet…
she shed her towel. there she was, standing there in the bathroom, hair wet and dripping all down her tanned skin and perky breasts and soft tummy and thick, thick thighs, and…
you lost your breath. her nipples were hard from the cold and you could see the way the water droplets glistened on them. she was so full, so full of life and beauty and honestly in your opinion she looked like such a goddess.
you hadn’t realized you were panting the slightest bit and staring at her until you glanced up towards her pretty, round face and caught you. her honey brown eyes locked onto yours, and all you could do was quickly turn and walk away, hurrying down the hall into your room.
you closed and locked the door, fully intending to simply forget the interaction, but it was seared into the backs of your eyelids.
you had seen her carnally. and now you wanted to know her that way, too.
after that it became a spiral. you tried to focus on work but she was only wearing robes around the house after patrols, using excuse after excuse as to why she didn’t want to wear proper clothes. but when she did, they were tight, short numbers that made you drool without realizing it. she was coming onto you and you weren’t sure whether to consider yourself the luckiest girl alive or the worst person on the planet.
because yeah, ochaco was in a rough place with deku. she could just want to use you… or maybe not.
you honestly didn’t know and couldn’t tell.
the air between the both of you after that altercation was thick and laced with hunger and tension, making you shake in your shoes. you didn’t want to get the wrong impression.
but ochaco was tired of you dancing around her like she was a fragile option. she was tired of it, three months in, and she simply couldn’t do it anymore.
you had dropped the boys off at school and came home with the intent to clean. to your surprise, ochaco was in the kitchen, looking out through the window over the sink and sipping a cup of tea in that beautiful pink robe she loved to wear around you.
you swallowed a little and set your purse on the island. “mrs. midoriya? whatre you doing home?”
“i took the day off.” she set the now empty mug into the sink and turned her head a little to look at you over her shoulder.
“o-oh,” you stuttered, trying to look everywhere but at her.
that was the final mistake you would make.
ochaco turned and quickly approached you, hands coming down hard on either side of you on the island, caging you in. you yelped in surprise and let your eyes go wide as you stared at her.
“m-mrs.-“
“do you think i’m pretty?”
you stared at her. what?
she didn’t like your silence and it showed in her gaze. “i asked you a question. i pay you to be honest to me. tell me. do you think i’m pretty, y/n? attractive?”
you bit down on your lip before taking in a deep breath. “y-yes. i t-think you’re… i think you’re so beautiful.” and that was the truth, because you had spent many a night locked in your room with your fingers plunged deep in your cunt, trying to bring yourself to release while thinking about her, her, her.
her pink cheeks warmed up the slightest bit more. “you do? you think that?”
“yes,” you managed, more confidently this time, and she must’ve liked that answer because she grinned at you before forcefully pressing those pillow-plush lips to yours.
your hands easily found her shoulders, squeezing them and whimpering. you pushed at her shoulders, suddenly remembering where you were, and she pulled away to shake her head. “deku isn’t coming home today. he doesn’t want me - you do.”
“mrs.-“
“you don’t have to call me that anymore, y/n.” she shook her head, lifting a hand to touch your cheek. “just call me ochaco. or mommy. mommy would be nice coming from you, pretty thing…”
who was this and where was ochaco?!
but, then again… you knew better than to disrespect or disobey a pro-hero. you knew a lot better. you didn’t answer her as you leaned to catch her lips again, and she sighed gently at your ambition.
your lips meshed with hers with sudden ease, the softness of her chapstick making it easier for you. her tongue pushed its way into your mouth, her hands sliding along the island to your sides, sneaking up under your shirt and making you jump.
“shhh, it’s alright. it’s just us…” she cooed against your lips, feeling for the hem to start taking you out of your shirt. you just let her, lifting your arms over your head and watching the way her pupils dilated in the lights of the kitchen when she saw the clean expanse of your skin, lacking the battle scars her own torso adorned. she bit on her lip and reached around you to unclasp your bra, and you let it fall to the floor, your nipples hardening under the sudden cold air of the kitchen.
she let out a breath. “i knew you were perfect, gosh…” her soft hand enveloped one of your tits, squeezing before moving to flick your nipple, making you jump and whimper through your teeth.
“come on y/n. you wanna see me again? i know you were staring when i left the door open. i wanted you to come in…”
your head was swimming. she really wanted you? your hands moved without your consent to the fuzzy piece of fabric holding her robe closed, and she allowed you to untie it and let the clothing drop to the floor. she had absolutely nothing on under it, and you practically moaned when you saw how perfect she was.
she smiled and blushed, as if she was the least bit bashful, before her hands were sliding down your navel to your jeans button, and you nodded just barely. she wasn’t looking, she didn’t care - she was going to do it anyway.
she shucked you of your clothes and finally looked at your face again, smiling at your embarrassed expression before leaning to peck your lips. her fingers slid down, down, down between your legs, dancing over your thighs before her finger dipped between your wet folds, making you absolutely keen.
she cooed at that. “oh, sweetheart, you’re soaked. don’t make a mess on the tile, baby, you’ll have to clean it up.”
you nodded, already desperate for her touch. her free hand held onto your hip as she started to rub her finger against your clit with the collected juices, making your legs tense and your head drop back. “ochaco, please…”
“please what?”
“you know…?”
“i don’t, baby. you have to use your words.”
“please, want your fingers in, please…” you looked at her desperately, and she giggled at your expression before her index finger dipped into your tight hole, making you moan and grip the island.
“you like that? that’s what you need, baby?”
“y-yes! ‘chaco, please, please touch…”
“i know. i’ll take care of you. mommy knows best.” she purred and pushed a second finger into your tight cunt, her lips connecting with your neck to suck a hickey low down on your collarbone. it made you whine out, white-knuckling the counter underneath you.
she knew just how to curl her fingers, just how to jerk her thumb against your clit to make you jolt, just how to mouth at your jaw to make you weaker in the knees.
she hummed against your jugular as if in thought, feeling the way your cunt fluttered around her fingers, before she giggled. “fine, cum or don’t cum at all, baby.”
your eyes rolled back as your whole body tensed up tight, seeing the stars in the night sky as you gushed around her fingers.
she fucked you through your orgasm before gently hooking her hands around your knees to drop you down to the floor. her clean hand went to the back of your head, and she tugged you forward in your haze.
“be a good girl, baby. you know what to do.”
her wet hand went down between her own thighs, spreading her folds and letting you get a good look at the glistening sheen of her cunt in the sickly kitchen light. “you gonna be good?”
you didn’t even need to answer. you were already burying your face between those folds, licking eagerly at her fluttering hole before sliding your mouth up to her clit and sucking.
she moaned softly, always modest and gentle. her hips rolled rhythmically down against your tongue, and her eyes never left yours while you licked and lapped and sucked at her for dear life.
“that’s it baby. you gonna make mommy cum? you gonna make me feel so good, huh? yeah? what a good girl, shit…”
you had never heard her swear before. she was so beautiful, rocking her hips down against your face. you were barely able to breathe but you didn’t care, hands grabbing at her thighs to pull her closer to yourself and try to savor the moment for as long as possible.
her moans grew in pitch and fervor, the hand on the back of your head curling and gripping you tight.
“good girl, good girl, gonna cum in your mouth, oh fuck-!”
she whined so prettily for you when she gushed onto your tongue that you yourself moaned, rendering you speechless while you watched the flush overtake her chest snd shoulders.
you licked at her clit through her orgasm before she was pushing you back gently. she leaned down to kiss your lips softly.
“you have to get cleaned up for the next round in a little bit. but you should fix up some salad first for the both of us. alright?”
Her voice cuts through the dim haze like a knife dipped in honey—sweet, slow, and venom-laced. You're already straddling her lap, thighs sticking against the expensive leather couch, your dress bunched at your waist, clinging to sweat-slicked skin. Your lipstick is smudged into her collarbone, your breath coming out in shallow pants as her hand fists your hair, pulling your head back.
The other hand? Already between your legs—controlling, claiming, ruining.
"Yelena," you gasp, barely above a whisper, your thighs trembling from the pressure she's building.
"Louder." Her teeth graze your jaw, a cruel smile blooming against your skin. "Like you mean it, pretty baby."
She smells like cigarettes and gunmetal—something masculine and dangerous. Her lips taste like cherry vodka and heat. You don't remember how you got here. You never do. Just the way her fingers slid into yours after the rally, after the speech, after the applause. Past the barricades. Past the guards. Past the world screaming her name.
Now it's you screaming it.
Your back arches. Her name falls from your lips again and again like both a prayer and a curse. You hate her. You love her. You want her to stop touching you. You want her to never stop.
"You think she can touch you like this?" Yelena growls suddenly, breath hot in your ear. Her fingers never slow. "Mikasa?"
That name—spoken like poison—drags the breath from your lungs. She laughs, low and bitter. "That little girl wouldn't know what to do with you."
You flinch.
You didn't say her name. You never say her name around Yelena. But somehow, she always knows. Knows when you've looked at Mikasa too long. Knows when your eyes lingered, or when you blushed at her compliment. Knows when your mind wandered during sex, wandered to soft hands and softer eyes.
"She's not like me," Yelena spits, voice rising. "She doesn't love you the way I do. She never will."
Her grip tightens—on your hips, on your heart—and you moan, because it's all you can do. Because when she touches you like this, when her hands move like knives and balm all at once, you forget yourself.
Pain becomes worship.
And maybe this is love—in the same twisted way war can be peace, or chains can be comforting.
But somewhere, buried under the noise and the heat and the smoke in your lungs, you're thinking about her.
Mikasa.
The way she looked at you yesterday across the war room table. The quiet pause before her eyes dropped to your bruised arm. The way her fingers lingered just a second too long on your shoulder when no one was looking.
The way it felt safe.
And maybe that's the problem.
Yelena makes you feel alive.
But Mikasa? She makes you feel human.
Yelena bends you forward like you're a prayer being recited backward. One knee on the couch, one foot on the floor, hips arched as she pulls your panties off with a swift, practiced tug. They catch on your ankle, and she leaves them there—like a trophy. Her grip digs into the soft of your thighs as if trying to anchor herself inside you.
"Don't run from me," she murmurs, voice fraying at the edges. "Don't you dare."
It almost sounds like desperation.
Almost.
But not quite.
You couldn't run even if you wanted to. Your knees are jelly. Your pulse is in your ears. Her thigh slides between yours, keeping them spread—commanding. Your body responds to her like it always does, helpless and ruined.
She fucks you like you're both her audience and her altar.
Like your pleasure is her applause.
Like her name on your lips is the only thing keeping her from collapse.
"You love this," she breathes. "You love me. The lights. The chaos. The way I own you."
You want to cry.
You want to laugh.
You want to scream until the world outside the VIP room forgets your name.
Instead, you push back into her, and she drags another breathless whimper from your throat.
It's always like this.
The backstage sex. The frantic, violent kisses after speeches. Her fingers inside you while the crowd chants outside—"Yelena! Yelena!"
You're the secret.
The addiction she hides in velvet.
The shadow she fucks in silence.
Her teeth sink into your neck, sharp and hard enough to leave a bruise. The pain crackles under your skin, igniting something shameful.
"You're gonna let her touch you?" she snarls. "Let her soft hands undo what I made?"
Her fingers plunge deeper.
You moan.
"She thinks she knows you," she pants. "She doesn't. I made you. I broke you open. You were nothing before me."
You flinch. Not at the words—but because maybe she's right.
Maybe you're not a person anymore.
Maybe you're a groupie.
A body.
A vessel for someone else's power.
"Say it," she hisses. "Say you're mine."
You hesitate.
Just a second.
That's all it takes.
Her hand wraps around your throat, yanking your body flush against hers. Her breath ghosts over your cheek, her other hand dipping low—slow, deliberate, dragging through the mess between your thighs like she's painting something.
"Say. It."
"I'm yours," you gasp. "I'm yours, Yelena."
She groans, as if your voice is a shot of heroin. She clutches you tighter, and you feel her trembling against your back—this tall, strong, cruel woman undone by the way you crumble in her hands.
But your eyes flutter shut.
And it's not her you see.
It's Mikasa.
Silent.
Still.
Watching you yesterday from the other side of the room.
Watching the way your sleeves never quite hid the bruises.
Watching the way your smile didn't reach your eyes.
Watching you fade.
And for a moment, you wonder what it would feel like to be touched with care.
To be seen without being consumed.
To be loved without being owned.
But Yelena doesn't give you time to think.
She pushes you up onto the table. Her personal staging area—glass bottles, cigar ashes, and Polaroids sliding aside under your palms. Cold marble kisses your back. The club's bass echoes through the walls like a second heartbeat.
She kneels between your legs, tossing her blazer off like it means nothing. Her silk shirt is halfway unbuttoned, damp with sweat. It clings to her skin, revealing glimpses of lean muscle, scars, and that ink-black tattoo curling just beneath the curve of her bra.
Her hair is a mess—half-tied, half-stuck to her jawline. There's smudged mascara beneath her eyes, making her look rabid. Her lips are red from kissing you too hard.
"God, look at you," she murmurs, biting into the meat of your inner thigh. You hiss. "My perfect little doll."
She pushes your knees wider, dragging her tongue through your folds like she's trying to erase the memory of anyone else. It's messy, raw. Loud. You sob her name, grip her hair, try to hold on—but her hands are everywhere. Bruising your hips. Gripping your thighs. Digging crescents into your skin.
She moans into you, vulgar and deep.
The room echoes with slick, obscene sounds and your broken cries. Somewhere in the corner, Lana Del Rey hums from a speaker hidden in the ceiling:
"It's so sweet, swingin' to the beat..."
You're close.
Too close.
You feel like you're going to snap in half—but she pulls away suddenly, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, licking her lips like she's just tasted something divine.
"Not yet," she says, breathless. "Not until you tell me what I need to hear."
She stands again, towering over you. Shirt untucked. Belt undone. Her fingers skim your trembling thigh, then your flushed cheek. She grabs your chin. Tilts your face up. Her thumb pushes into your mouth.
"Say my name."
"Y-Yelena..."
"Say it like it's a sin," she growls. "Like it's the last word you'll ever say."
"Yelena," you whisper, eyes glassy, jaw slack.
She smiles—slow, wicked, victorious.
"Good girl."
Her fingers plunge into you with precision that makes you sob. Her other hand cradles your face as she watches every twitch, every flinch, every shattered expression cross your features.
Her pupils are blown. Her smile is feral.
"Fuck—you'd fall apart without me."
And maybe you would.
Maybe you already have.
You scream her name as you shatter, stars bursting behind your eyes. Your body collapses onto the table in heaving gasps, every nerve alight.
Yelena doesn't let go.
Not when you twitch.
Not when your voice breaks into something near tears.
She holds you, pressing kisses to your temple as she whispers:
"You're not a fan."
She drags her fingers out of you, slow and reverent.
"You're a shrine."
The silence afterward is deafening.
She buttons her shirt slowly, smirking, hair falling into her face. She zips her pants like it's just another day. Like she didn't just ruin you. Like your body isn't still twitching with aftershocks.
You lie there, legs spread, mascara running, dress bunched at your waist.
And for a second—you don't feel like a person.
You feel like an offering.
She leans down.
Kisses your forehead, mock-gentle.
"I'll see you tomorrow, my little groupie."
Then she walks out.
Like she didn't just break you in half.
The door clicks shut.
The crowd outside roars.
And the only thing you hear is Lana's voice fading into the silence:
Mikasa would only fuck you to replace Eren so don’t expect her to love you or be affection. In fact, don’t even expect aftercare. She fucks with passion but no emotion.
She fucks you so hard that you have trouble walking for a day after. Like literally pounding into you from behind while yanking your hair so she can hear your pathetic little moans.
Mikasa usually doesn’t even acknowledge you outside of these moments. She likes fucking but she doesn’t like you and she never will. Eren has her heart and once he returns her love, she’ll drop you. Maybe you’ll get lucky and she might call on you to join her and Eren. Maybe Mikasa just misses your holes, maybe she likes you. You don’t know.
You never question it either, this is purely transactional for both of your pleasure thats it!
Mikasa likes how you cry during sex. She’s so mean but she doesn’t care! You’re beneath her always and most importantly beneath Eren.
Mikasa doesn’t like you but she doesn’t feel possession over you. Even though you’re not on her level she still wants you to only have sex with her. That’s why when she sees you with someone else she’ll either ignore you or she’ll find a reason to meet up with that person and tell them how much of a whore you are and how they shouldn’t hang with you.
Mikasa isolates you, not because she loves you but maybe you’ll realize you deserve better and leave! She can’t have her pocket pussy finding someone else.
When Mikasa ignores you, you’ll usually beg for her attention until she returns- colder than ever now. If her pussy didn’t ache without you she would leave you high and dry.
Mikasa keeps fucking you though because you always run right back to her. She can really unleash her anger on you and you’d apologize if she asked.
since i’ve decided to extend Cherry Flavored Anesthetic, here are some headcanons related to the oneshot!! i’m also counting this as my post for February :3 it's baby's first smut, so i want it to be close to perfect lol <33 ty for reading!!
cw: NOT PROOFREAD !! just headcanons !! all knowledge of college/higher education places that i have comes from the book Miles Morales: Spider-Man so if anything is inaccurate blame the author of that book, hange is masc and possibly butch, obsessive/possesive behavior, mentions of stalking/murder, lowkey loser!Hange because we’re in a loser!hange drought, Dead Dove warning because they’re a perv and obsessive and would kill for you but that’s just the hange way, a very long list of kinks.
➤ obsessive!Hange is a hardly a unique case when it comes to this sort of archetype of person- like, if you searched up “obsessive” in a dictionary their picture would be right next to the definition with a big ol first place medal around their neck.
➤ it’s hard to decide where to start here tho… maybe with the photo cards they made of you during their k-pop phase? or maybe the entirety of your junior year in highschool when they gifted you different things as an experiment?
➤ no, i think it’s better to start with the way they... "discovered" you. y’know, like how talent agencies scout up and coming actors?
➤ picture this: your sophomore year of highschool. the last period of the day- you have biology. by pure and utter coincidence, you and hange are partners for next weeks lab. you have a vague idea of who they are, and their pillows know you like your an A-List celebrity.
➤ the first time you visit their house, Hange is 2 seconds away from a panic attack. there are countless amounts of journals, sketchbooks, experiment logs, poems, and Polaroids of you stashed around their room, and the thought of you finding any of those treasured items is their worst nightmare (they are unaware how much you want to jump their bones at this point).
➤ and when they find out ur a nerd too??? if you thought they were obsessed before, then your in for a wild ride now. while you jot down your main ideas for the biology project, they stare at your neck like a starving vampire.
➤ now, don’t think just because obsessive!hange is a hornball doesn’t mean they aren’t just madly in love with you too.
➤ once the project is over, they cling to you like a loyal dog would to its owner.
➤ next, they start bringing you lunch.
➤ and not just lunchables either. like full on home cooked meals that have the same quality as something from a Michelin star restaurant.
➤ this started when they found out you often had to skip lunch just to make it to your afternoon shift on time…
➤ when you told them this, they fell to their knees in the middle of the local Spencers. They had to rush home just so they could panic in their room instead of a public mall. An angel lost its wings that day.
➤ they show up at your work the next day, clearly holding back tears and gifting you the first of many delicious meals. 💗
➤ this goes on for YEARS. like, your moving into your college dorm, and there’s hange with your lunch, like usual- they will stop at NOTHING to make sure your happy and healthy.
➤ so… speaking of the happy part…
➤ Do NOT ❌❌❌ tell them someone is flirting with you- that same person will be knocked out in a dark alleyway by midnight. or worse, depending on what they said to you
➤ when it comes to ur safety and happiness, Hange will most literally KILL for you. or, at the very least, beat someone up behind a sketchy bar for you.
➤ no matter the rhyme or reason your asking for it, even if your just hinting, they’ll do it, no questions asked (unless it’s like… “hey, do u want me to kill this guy in a poetic way”)
➤ however, ever since they became obsessed with you, they’ve been determined to become the best person ever. Like Mother Teresa levels of goodness.
➤ is it because they think them being generous and amazing will make you fall in love with them? yes, yes it is. (they don’t know how attractive their loserness is, unfortunately)
➤ their love language is acts of service, they ADORE doing little things for you
➤ like carrying your things, tying/buckling your shoes for you, or bringing you a sweet treat in the mornings !!
➤ oh, and ur interests? they’re already doing a deep dive on all of them and writing a list of gifts related to those things they can give you throughout the next few months.. nonchalantly, of course.
➤ also, expect to catch them staring at you often- you accepted their nervous glances, so now, without any shame, they’re constantly admiring you 24/7. they’re obsessed with every single part of you 💗💗
nsfw
➤ before we get too deep, quick kink list (this isn’t all of them because I couldn’t list all of them if I wanted to spend the next year doing anything else):
➤ dom/sub (they love putting this stuff into ur relationship outside of the bedroom too), scent kink, title kink (literally ANYTHING will do), somnophilia (it’s rare but yes, waking someone up with head counts), roleplay, praise & degradation, subspace (for either of you- they love cooing over you if it’s your turn, but if it’s theirs they just like to be pampered), pet play, breathplay, overstimulation, dacryphilia, size kink, voyeurism, biting kink, food play, bondage, sex toys but like. duh??, clothed sex, cockwarming (no, the strap isn’t really connected to them, yes, it’s still hot), chase kink, blood/knife play, voice kink, almost every kink, actually
➤ (yes, u being on ur period makes them want to eat you out even more, what about it??)
➤ okay anyways next.
➤ the first time you manage to worm your way past their lovesick defense and into their pervy brain sector is when you asked them to help you pick out a lingerie set for you to wear for your… “boyfriend”.
➤ they were sat in your plush, velvet loveseat for almost 2 hours, getting progressively more pink in the face every time you came out with a new set on.
➤ with every passing minute, they got even pinker, fidgeted with the patches on their jacket even more, and their voice got higher. you had such a larger affect on them that they couldn’t even pretend to stay relatively calm.
➤ and when you came out in the dark, lacy nightdress with the words “doesn’t suit me” and “not really sure”, they almost exploded. genuinely, almost died.
➤ they tried to describe how beautiful you looked, and simply couldn’t speak. so, they gestured for you to come forward and latched onto your hips like some sort of koala, pressing their chapped lips to your own. they taste like coffee.
➤ and i mean…
➤ hange sat themself back on the couch and pulled you down along with them. they leaned in and hesitated for just a second before they discarded their glasses on some random side table, and whimpering softly into the kiss as they finally tasted you.
➤ and that was the first time among many the two of you made out. oh, the boyfriend we mentioned? completely made up.
➤ the first time you see their muscles, it’s literally like. physically jarring. like you literally can’t believe it
➤ after all, they only really wear hoodies or layered clothes- you assumed they were built like a noodle, quite frankly
➤ everytime they come over to ur dorm and take their hoodie off, their tanktop underneath always rides up a little bit so u can see their happy trail 💗
➤ they LOVEEE it when you grind on them… whether it’s on their thighs, abs, face- it’s all a good time to them!!! (the first time you grind on their abs they literally cum untouched from how attractive they find it)
➤ Hange has a love-hate relationship with quickies… on one hand, they love challenging themself to see how quickly they can make u cum, but on the other hand, having to rush and not being able to savor all your little reactions breaks their heart :((
➤ speaking of savoring !!
➤ if you agree to let hange eat you out… you better be PREPARED because they’re going to latch onto you like a leech for up to 5 hours.
➤ this is NOT an exaggeration- when it comes to you, they’re pussydrunk like it’s nothing. literally one little kitten lick will get them addicted and pleading for more
➤ sooo… time to talk about the strap
➤ as much as they love the thought of blowing your back out into your mattress, they are BASHFUL in bed with you for the first few times. the most gentle dom in the WORLD- they’re terrified of hurting you (in a way you wouldn’t like, ofc)
➤ they like documenting and watching your reactions, naturally, so they prefer brightly colored or clear straps- easier to keep their eyes on as they slide in and out
➤ they start out with the smaller, plainer ones, but further on reveal their more… eccentric collection of straps !! the 10 inch is reserved for special occasions ONLY (whenever they feel like it)
➤ hange LUVVVS watching you touch urself 💗 whether it’s from outside your window or guiding you as you hump their pillow, they’re always down to just take a seat and drool over you :3
➤ sometimes during sex, if they’ve been away from you for a while, they’ll get carried away with kissing you and forget to do like… anything else. they’ll kiss you for 30 minutes straight if you let them
➤ DON’T underestimate how much they adore you. if you so much as hint to something you want to try out in the bedroom, they’ll research it for hours on end so they know exactly what you want to do. whether you simply want to drizzle chocolate sauce all over them and lick it off or try out like 3 new toys at once, they’re down for it.
➤ hange is addicted to you- and by extension, your cunt !! the first time they taste you is like a religious experience for them- they start groaning like they’re the one getting eaten out
➤ they also ADORE marking u up- leaving little bite marks all over your neck, thighs, shoulders, calves, arms, and chest
➤ also, if any of your pillows mysteriously disappear, don't worry !! they’re safe in Hange’s hands 💗 and their arms… and in between their thighs.
➤ they’ve stolen at least five or so of your pillows over the years- they love being able to smell you while they sleep! and while they mastrubate, but that’s a different conversation we’ll have later 🙂↕️
These girls really had it all. They went to the Grammys, broke records at Lollapalooza, went viral for the GAP campaign, had a sold out tour, had a goddamn SUPERBOWL ad, and a PUSH award in just over two years.
And it’s just… over? Just like that?
Over, wasting away all of these incredible women. Over, because some demonic executives would rather remove the Black girl who worked so hard than treat her right.
Damn, KATSEYE, and especially Manon, you deserved better.
Summary: Rents due and you simply don’t have the money. As a final result, you move into the Kiramman mansion as a maid. However, Caitlyn and Vi’s true reason for hiring you isn’t subtle at all.
A/n: I finally finished this! It’s sort of a 300 follower special, so thanks for all the follows! I have a bunch of unpolished WIP’s to start posting, so I’ll hopefully be more frequent soon!
Taking one last deep breath, you rang the doorbell for the Kiramman mansion. Today, the owners of the estate would be interviewing you for a new position as a maid in the household. Your duties would be cleaning, meal preparation occasionally, and the like. You were particularly desperate for this job since it was also live-in. Rent was getting too high, so moving into a massive castle as a maid was one of your last resorts.
You were allowed inside by the help already present in the mansion. You noticed that the other two maids were on the older side. “Good afternoon, I’m here for the uhm, interview for the open maid position?” The older maid you were talking to thought for a moment before pointing up the stairs. “Oh yes that’s right! The Kirammans are waiting right upstairs.” She hobbled away. You followed where she pointed, and went up the stairs. The nearest door was cracked, so you looked inside.
Two women were sitting at one end of a desk, looking at you expectantly. You opened the door all the way, and stepped inside. Something about them made the hair on the back of your neck stand. Maybe it was the eyepatch Caitlyn Kiramman wore. You knew of her. Her name was practically inescapable a few years ago. As for the woman next to her, you didn’t know who she was, but she was looking right back at you.
“Uh, good afternoon! I’m here for the interview.” Caitlyn nodded, and motioned for you to sit down. “Yes, we’ve been expecting you. Let me introduce myself, Caitlyn Kiramman.” She stood up and went to shake your hand. You responded with a lackluster handshake, the nerves preventing you from performing better. Her grip was firm, and her one eye was trained on your face. “And this is my wife Violet. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Caitlyn looked to the other woman, and returned to her seat.
“To you as well!” You replied, trying to be as polite as humanly possible. Once you told them your name, the interview started. “Do you have any experience?” Caitlyn asked. Vi didn’t seem as interested, but she sat by her wife’s side anyways. “Not as a maid, but I’m a good cook, and I can clean too.” You hated your answer, but what where you meant to say? These two were more intimidating than you first thought. Vi watched your every move, from how you toyed with your hands to how you adjusted your clothing. You were very intimidated by her especially.
“I see. Why exactly do you want this job?” Was Caitlyn’s next question. May as well be honest. Perhaps they’ll feel some sympathy for you. “Well, my rents getting a little high, and my current job isn’t exactly cutting it.” You laughed awkwardly, watching their expressions for any emotion. “Where do you live?” Vi cut in for the first time. “I have an apartment in the undercity.” Her expression shifted when she heard that. “You seem a little soft for down there.” Vi leaned in a little closer. Not sure whether that was a compliment or an insult, you reply “thank you?”
“If you were hired, you would be housed here.” Caitlyn steered the conversation back to the matter at hand. “I know. It’s one of the reasons I applied.” Caitlyn nodded slowly, looking you up and down. “Excuse us for one moment…” Caitlyn took Vi by the hand, and exited the room, leaving you with your thoughts. Did you say something wrong? What did they want to talk about without you present?
When the couple returned, Caitlyn smiled at you. “You’re hired.” You were stunned. “Already? That’s it?” Caitlyn nodded, and Vi offered her own hand to shake. She was muscular, and her hand was calloused when you shook it. “Welcome aboard.” She said curtly with a small grin. “Thank you so much!” How did that even happen? Either you’re insanely lucky, or they liked you for some odd reason.
“You start next week.” Caitlyn handed you a contract to sign, giving you a slightly off putting grin.
Your first days working in the Kiramman mansion went surprisingly smooth. The elder maids helped you learn your way around, and even perfected your cooking. Caitlyn and Vi weren’t picky with anything you made, and often praised you. They noticed your improvement, and enjoyed watching it. Both of them were incredibly polite, and never demanding.
Caitlyn Kiramman was a busy woman. She was always in and out of the house unless it was her day off. She was your main employer, and who you usually responded to for pay and duties. “To start you off, I want you doing breakfast, cleaning my office, the master suite, dinner, and the kitchen. Does that sound alright with you?” She stared at you with her one eye. “Yes ma’am.” She smiled whenever you call her that. “Wonderful. Well, I have work to get to. If you need anything, ask one of your senior maids, or Violet.” After grabbing a work bag, Caitlyn left for the day.
You were doing just fine right up until you have to clean the master suite. You were looking all over, but could tell find it in the massive house. “Need any help?” A voice came from behind. It was Vi, or Violet as Caitlyn called her. “Oh, yes, sorry. Could you please direct me to the master bedroom? Ms. Kiramman wanted me to clean it today.” Vi hummed, assessing your appearance. “You lost? That’s alright. Follow me.” She started walking. “You know, first time I was here, I got lost too. I don’t know how Cait manages to live in such a big house.” Vi started a casual conversation with you. “Ahaha, yeah.” She kept looking at you. Maybe it was the uniform. Caitlyn’s help uniforms weren’t anything scandalous, but they definitely took inspiration from classic maids. Long navy dresses with white aprons, along with the rule that your hair has to be in a ponytail or a bun for sanitary reasons. You even have the headband to top it off. “You’re a cute girl…” Vi finally looks away when she says that. “Thanks…” You hated how awkward that sounded, but you were flustered. Vi was hot, and you weren’t going to deny that. For someone that attractive to call you attractive always felt good. Vi opened the bedroom door for you, but closed it after herself. You got to work, and started making the bed as she watched. “Cait doesn’t usually have our bedroom cleaned. I wonder why she changed her mind.” She strolled around the bedroom, watching you. “You know, you really don’t have to be so professional with me. Caitlyn’s the only one who likes the whole ‘ma’am’ thing.”
“Sorry, it’s a habit.” You tried to continue acting casual, but when Vi came closer to get a better look at you, you felt yourself getting warmer. You must have had a look on your face, because she backed up“Well, I better get going. Just give me a shout if you get lost again!” She left, hands in her pockets.
One night, you were cleaning the kitchen from dinner, humming a song softly. The sound of footsteps made you stop and turn around. It was only Vi. “Ms. Kiramman?” She raised one hand as a greeting. Loose shorts hung from her hips, and her chest was wrapped. A wave of heat washed over your body, but you quickly shamed yourself in your mind for thinking that way of a married woman. “You can just call me Vi if you want. I’m not a stickler for the formalities.” She leaned on the kitchen counter, watching you finish the dishes. “Okay, Vi.” She looked a flustered.
“So uh… Do you enjoy your job?” Vi initiated. “Surprisingly, yes. I didn’t think I’d enjoy it, but life here is actually pretty nice. You and Ms. Caitlyn are very nice women to work for.” Vi smirked, and replied “Aw really? I have to say, we’ve been pretty impressed by you. Definitely made the right choice.”
“Thank you. I’m very grateful for this job.” You finished washing the last dish and began to put them away. “The uniform suits you.” You turned around rapidly to find Vi right in front of you, caging you against the counter top and the cabinets. “Thank you…” your voice was barely above a whisper. She’s not as tall as her wife, but she’s still massive. Her arms were muscular and a little threatening, especially when being used to trap you. She was insanely close. You could smell her cologne. “Cait picked the uniforms. They’re a little modest for my taste, but you make’em look cute anyways…” One of her hands took a strand of your hair from your ponytail. “Soft… You know, in the summer, she’ll let you wear a shorter skirt.” A sly grin was on her face. “Vi, what are you doing?” Was all you could say.
“If you’re worried about Cait, don’t be. We feel the same way. No secrets.” She whispered in your ear before leaning closer slowly. Her eyes were intense, and you couldn’t look away. Vi kissed you slowly, keeping you trapped against the counter. You practically melted into her. When she pulled away, you were left catching your breath. “See you around.” Vi said casually, stepping away into the dark halls of the Kiramman mansion. You went to bed that night very confused, and slightly aroused.
“We feel the same way.” Is what echoed in your mind the rest of the night, along with the lingering feeling of her lips on yours.
The next morning, you were assigned to clean Caitlyn’s office. When you arrived, she was already in there doing paper work. “Oh- sorry. Do you want me to go somewhere else?” You asked. Caitlyn smiled softly. “No, it’s no issue at all. Just clean as if I’m not even here.” And so you did. You started with dusting her shelves, and then moved on to the windows. Caitlyn was doing her work, but she was also looking at you far more often than normal. The Kirammans seemed oddly infatuated with you. Their attention felt nice, and you couldn’t help but look forward to the times they gave it to you.
Was that why they hired you? Just because they thought you were pretty? You had no clue. “Excuse me? Dear?” It was Caitlyn. You stopped wiping her windows and turned to face her. “Yes ma’am?” She motioned for you to come closer with her finger. “Last night, Violet told me about your conversations.” Your stomach dropped. The kiss, did she know? Caitlyn saw your nervous face and laughed. “You’re not in trouble. Violet can come on strong. She did the same ‘get in your face’ approach when we first met.” She stood and leaned on the window, staring off into her memory of that night fondly. “You’re a pretty girl. I can’t exactly blame her. I’d be lying if I said I thought otherwise…” She moved closer, trying to appear composed. It was clear to you she was feeling a little nervous. Flushed cheeks, and minimal eye contact. “This may sound strange, but could you maybe wash my hair for me? Nothing crazy, I promise.” You were a little surprised, but it seemed normal enough. “Sure!” Caitlyn looked surprised. “Really? Uhm- alright. The master bathroom in one hour.” She was a little goofier than first impressions made you think. Commander Kiramman in public always seemed so serious and scary. At home, she was a completely different woman.
When the hour finally passed, you opened the bathroom door to find her soaking in her lavish bathtub. Steam filled the room, and she sighed in pleasure at how warm it had become. “There you are.” She turned over, resting her arms and chin on the tub. “I was a little scared you’d keep me waiting.” She looked very comfortable. An easy smile was on her face, and her cheeks were pink.
“Never, ma’am. Now, I can’t promise that this will be relaxing, but I’ll try my best.” You knelt down behind her and squeezed some shampoo into your hand. Caitlyn sighed when you began to massage her scalp. Her hair didn’t seem in need of a wash, but you followed her orders anyways. “You’re doing wonderfully…” She praised, looking up at you with that piercing blue eye. You rinsed her hair, and combed through it with it fingers gently. “Your hair is pretty.” You told her. Caitlyn chuckled, cheeks slightly flushed from the compliment. “You think so? Thank you.”
Caitlyn shifted, giving you access to her shoulders and upper back. “Would you mind giving me a little massage? I’m so sore after work this week… If you don’t want to it’s fine. I understand that this is a little more personal than a maids activities should be…”
“Sure. I’ll try, but I’m no masseuse, so it might not be good.” You placed your hands on her shoulders and began to knead her flesh with some pressure. She groaned softly, relaxing into your touch. “That’s good…you’re doing well..” Caitlyn murmured. When you rubbed a sore spot, your boss whined quietly. “Sorry… I got hit there on the job. Arrests can be painful.”
Once you were finished, Caitlyn seemed pleased with your work. “You’re amazing. I knew we made the right choice.” She sat up and turned around to face you with a pretty smile. “I still have to start on your dinner though, so I have to go now.” You stood up and stretched. “Wait.” Caitlyn stood up too, wrapping herself in a towel. “Yes ma’am?” You stood at attention. “I like when you call me that.” She cupped your cheek, and leaned in like she was asking for permission. When you nodded, she kissed you. Caitlyn’s kiss differed from Vi’s. It felt more calm and dominant then Vi’s hungry passion. She kissed you with ease like she was in control. A far cry from her slightly awkward demeanor at home. She kissed you how you imagined Commander Kiramman would. The power dynamic was at play even when she was only in a towel. Her hand on the small of your back kept you close. When you parted, she simply smiled and walked away.
Tension escalated between you and the couple as time went on. Vi in particular enjoyed following you around the house as you went through with your work. She’d engage you in conversation, or sometimes just hug you from behind and whisper “what’cha doing?” To surprise you. Caitlyn was definitely bolder about it. If she wanted you then she’d make it obvious. More massages, manicures, watching you cook with a cool, possessive eye, or leaving you notes when she left for work. Sometimes, she’d even treat you with an expensive gift.
You were one hundred percent sure that the couple knew what they were doing. Both of them often brought the other up to ask “how you felt about them” or something like that. One night, you were serving Caitlyn and Vi dinner when Caitlyn started to speak to you. “Wonderful meal as always, but I have something to tell you.”
“Yes ma’am?” She smiled.
“We’ll need you in our room for something urgent tonight. It’s very important. Nine o’clock.” Caitlyn said briskly, never looking away from you. “Yes ma’am.” You knew what they were planning. They’d been hinting at it for ages, but it looked like tonight was the night.
Nervously, after cleaning the kitchen that night, you waited for the clock to strike nine. When it finally did, you made your way through the dark mansion to their bedroom. You knocked on the door twice, waiting for them to answer. The door opened. Caitlyn was standing there in a lavender colored silk robe, with her hair brushed over one shoulder. “Ah, evening. Come inside.” You stepped inside, allowing your eyes to adjust to the darkness. Caitlyn hugged you from behind, closing the door with her foot.
“Wow, she really came.” Vi’s voice came from the darkness, and soon after you felt her hand on your cheek. You could just barely see the pair in the dark room “What did you want to see me for?” You knew, but wanted to see what they’d say anyways. Caitlyn’s hands traveled up your body to squeeze your chest gently. “You know why…” Vi chuckled softly in the dark. “You want us too don’t you?” Caitlyn turned you around, making Vi scoff. “Someone’s eager.” She joked. Caitlyn ignored her, brushing your lips with her thumb gently. “May I?” You nodded, and Caitlyn’s lips were on yours. Her hands explored your body, and she removed your apron easily. Vi pulled you away from her wife to get a kiss of her own. The couple passed you back and forth like that until all three of you were on the bed.
Vi had one finger inside your cunt with your underwear pushed to the side. Caitlyn was just watching you, reveling in the faces and soft sounds you made. Vi looked completely infatuated with you. Her eyes were wide, lips parted, and finger moving faster. “I think one is too little.” Caitlyn chimed in, slipping closer to her wife, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Let’s see you take two.” She inserted her own finger next to Vi’s making you want to come instantly. Vi had the thicker fingers, but Caitlyn’s were longer. You grabbed onto their sheets, back arching slightly, trying your best not to move your hips frantically.
“Shit she’s wet…” Vi looked over at Caitlyn before kissing her. They groaned softly, completely making out with each other as they both had one finger inside you. When you came, they stopped. “Violet?” Caitlyn lifted her wife’s chin with one finger. “Mhm?” Vi’s puppy eyes returned when Caitlyn used that sultry tone. “Keep her busy for me will you? I need to prepare something.” Vi nodded, lowering herself on top of you to lick and suck on your neck. Her tongue trailed lower, swirling over each of your breasts a few times until she reached between your legs. “Shit.” She groaned, dragging her tongue over your slit. She suckled on your clit, making you tense and jerk. Vi held your legs open as you struggled, displaying her strength.
She was loving your pussy. Vi was eating it like it was her last meal on death row. Every time you squirmed, she pulled you back. Just as you were about to finish, Vi’s ministrations stopped suddenly. You looked up to find Caitlyn looming over the both of you with her hands on Vi’s back. “Don’t stop because of me. I know you can do better than that.” That’s when you noticed the odd position she was in. Vi twitched suddenly, and started to eat you out again. As she did so, you realized that Caitlyn was fucking her with her strap right in front of you.
It was strange to see someone so muscular, someone who acted so dominant, reduced to a whimpering mess by Caitlyn. Caitlyn on the other hand seemed very pleased with the sight. Vi’s movements grew weaker as Caitlyn rammed in and out of her, giving you a chance to breathe. Caitlyn didn’t appreciate that. She gave a quick swat to Vi’s ass, and leaned forward to speak in her ear. “Stop stalling and make her come.” Caitlyn’s eyes flicked to you, and she smiled politely as if saying: “you’re next.”
Vi started to put more effort into you again, thrusting her tongue in and out while her teeth gently grazed your clit. You both were noisy, but Caitlyn was just smiling innocently. You both came at nearly the same time, and Vi sat up, leaving your cunt feeling cool without her mouth. “Good…” Caitlyn remarked, taking a look at your swollen clit. “Do you want to fuck her now?” Caitlyn asked Vi. She nodded quickly. “Yes, please.” She was practically begging. “Go on then.” Caitlyn kissed her wife, tasting you on her tongue, eye wide open and watching you the whole time.
When Vi was wearing a strap of her own, she quickly moved you to rest on the pillows. She had her hands on either side of your head, and looked at you with a hunger in her eyes. “I’m gonna fuck you so good…” She muttered, pushing into you slowly. You could feel her stretching you out, and your nails dug into her back. “Violet!” The more professional name came from your lips before you could register it. Vi looked surprised, but didn’t stop.
She started gently, Rolling her hips slowly. “Pretty girl…” She cooed into your ear, licking the shell. “Vi…” You were falling apart underneath her. Vi just laughed innocently in your ear, and started to pick up her pace.
Now she was rough. Every time she raised her hips just to slam them back into you, you felt your mind disintegrating. You weren’t even thinking about Caitlyn, who was busy preparing something else for you. Vi changed her position, opting to hug you close while keeping her length inside you. She moving her hips in a circle, making sure to hit every spot inside you. You both were sweat-slicked and shaking. Vi squeezed you tighter, moving faster to get you to come again. You were already sensitive, and gave in almost too easily. “Vi!” You whined, spasming on her dick pathetically.
“You’re too cute.” Vi whispered in your ear, pulling out with a lewd pop. She brushed her hair back with one hand and looked over her shoulder to see Caitlyn rooting through her drawers. “Uh oh.” Vi looked back at you. “She’s really fired up. Getting the toys out and everything.” You were already brain dead from being fucked so roughly, but you couldn’t help becoming excited again at the thought of whatever Caitlyn had in store.
When she finally came over to the bed, you noticed that she was holding something silver in her hands. With a low whisper, she asked “Are you okay with being restrained?”
“Yes.” You nodded, realizing that it was a pair of handcuffs. Of course the enforcer likes sex with handcuffs. “Turn around.” She made a spinning motion with her finger. You obeyed. Caitlyn secured the handcuffs behind your back. And gently made you lie down. “Ass up.” She commanded again. Vi had a front row seat to your unashamedly crass behavior. When Caitlyn was pleased with your position, she slid her strap inside, bottoming out in one swift thrust. “Oh fuck…” You were startled. “You’re tightening up? Do you enjoy this?” Caitlyn rasped, beginning to move slowly. Vi watched you with a grin, combing her fingers through your hair.
“She’s lasted longer than I thought she would. I didn’t know if she could take us both.” Vi said to Caitlyn. Caitlyn looked to her wife with a smug expression. “Oh I knew she would… Ever since I laid eyes on her application.” You twitched at that. So they really did hire you because they wanted a third? “That’s right.” Caitlyn answered the question you hadn’t voiced. “We really did need a maid, and we’re lucky you’re a good one, but we’d both by lying if we said we hired you for the right reasons.” Caitlyn sped up, gripping your ass firmly. “ Vi nodded, coming closer and prodding her strap against your lips. “You’re a maid aren’t you? Clean it. Look how filthy you got it….” You lifted your head weakly and took her into your mouth, sucking Vi’s cock clean of your cum. You could feel her hand in your hair. “Good girl.” Caitlyn cooed. “You’re so sweet.” Vi said. The couple synced their thrusts, filling you completely.
The noisier you got, the faster they went. Caitlyn was hitting your cervix with every quick roll of her hips, and Vi was busy bruising the back of your throat. Both of them murmuring degrading praises to you as you grew closer to orgasming. When you finally did, you swore the whole mansion heard you. , Vi pulled out of your mouth, allowing you to catch your breath. Caitlyn was still going though. She was overstimulating you on purpose. Your orgasm was being drawn out, and she loved every minute of it. “Caitlyn! Please!” You whimpered, earning a swat of your own. “That’s Ms. Kiramman to you.” She corrected. “Yes ma’am.” You gasped. That really seemed to rile her up. “Good…good.” She muttered, going faster until you reached what was probably your fourth orgasm of the night. She pulled out slowly, setting each nerve on fire one last time.
“You did so good! We’re all finished now.” Vi picked you up, cradling you against her chest. “Yes, you did wonderfully.” Caitlyn agreed, kissing your forehead. “How about you join us for a quick soak?” Vi stood, carrying you bridal style to the bathroom. After running a hot bath, all three of you soaked silently.
“You alright?” Vi broke the silence. “Yes I’m okay.” You assured them. “I hope we weren’t too hard on you.” Caitlyn said, brushing a warm rag over your shoulders. “No, really I’m fine!” The couple looked at each other as if communicating telepathically. Caitlyn looked back to you.
“Take tomorrow off. I insist.” Was the conclusion they came to. Vi leaned onto you, breathing deeply. You slept between them that night, and most nights from then on.
