HAIAIAIA I RECENTLY COMMENTED ON YOUR FTM SMUTSHOT OF KUNI!!
Ok so like.. Haha.. Hear me out. Coughs. What if ftm reader x Aiku smutshot as well pretty please!.. 💗💗 def would be a lil bonus treat if reader was bratty too heh—and belly bulge PLZ OMIGOD 🌹🌹
you went a little too far… ⋆｡°✩ ftm!
includes. ftm!reader. GRAPHIC smut. fingering, nudes, masturbation, brat taming, penetration, belly bulging, rough sex, use of boy before genitalia.
a/n. HAIII YES I RMBR YOUR COMMENT!! im glad you liked it <3 idk aiku’s character too well so i hope this is good! i assumed the same transition stage for the reader in the last fic but pleaseee lmk if you have diff preferences. i’ll edit it right away. thank you for the req!
click! you angle the camera forward, soft fabric caught between your teeth as you flash a sultry smile. click! you’re knuckles deep inside your clenching boycunt, his borrowed jersey lifting with the slight arch of your back against the pillow. you wait with bated breath as the image sends, watching the dots disappear and reappear for what seems like a millennia until… nothing. you huff, tossing your phone aside in disappointment. he must be busy.
in truth, you’d forgotten you sent anything at all until he came home, hours later with tousled hair and skin coated in a thin sheen of sweat. his eyes find you immediately, gaze roaming your figure still clad in his oversized jersey. “y/n,” he says, breathy and unfocused as he slips off his shoes. he crosses the room in a few, long strides, heterochromatic eyes glinting under the light’s dim glow. your breath catches. “oliver?” his hands settle on your sides, breath ghosting over your neck.
“you just love teasing me, don’t you?” there’s no humor in his words, just a dark, deep-seated desire from being pent up all day. aiku turns you around, bending you over the counter with his hips grinding against yours. his erection pulsates against the back of your thigh, hands roving everywhere all at once. “h-huh? what’s wrong?” you ask, lips quivering as his hand travels lower, stopping at the hem of his jersey.
aiku groans, hiking it up until the fabric bunches around your thighs. “what’s wrong? you playing innocent now, baby?” at your small head shake, he shifts his hips, the thick imprint of his cock dragging against your ass. “this ring any bells?”
it hits you all at once—the picture, your hand where it clearly didn’t belong. so he did see it. you bite your lip, pushing yourself back into him. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.“
“oh really?” he chuckles, low and gravelly as he presses you further into the counter, large hand slipping past your underwear. it’s still damp from your earlier activities. “couldn’t wait, huh? when did’ya become so cheeky?” he hikes your leg up, perching it against the surface as his fingers slip in and out of your boyhole. you wince, face scrunching up at the sudden intrusion. “what?” he muses. “you already stretched yourself open earlier. don’t need me to do it again, do you?”
bastard. your bottom lip catches between your teeth, tears pricking at your vision as he trails kisses down your back. “oli… hahh… more!” he raises a brow, deliberately dragging out your release with infuriatingly slow thrusts. “oh? is that a demand? if i had to wait, so do you.” you whine, feeling something thick press into into your ass, already leaking and slick with pre. “w-wait! ‘m still sensiti—hhaah, oli..!” he thumbs you wide open, sheathing his fat cock inside you in one harsh stroke.
“not my fault,” he murmurs, pulling your hips back before fucking his cock deep into your bulging boypussy. “fuuuck baby, feel that? i'm in you this deep,” he groans, his palm planted over your lower abdomen and feeling for the slight bump that forms each time he slams back inside.
your mouth hangs wide open, shirt pushed haphazardly around your waist and pants tight around your thighs. his name comes out in a mindless chant, your insides twitching around his size. “oli—ah! fuck!” he doesn’t give you time to think before he’s shifting your hips to the side and penetrating deeper. the sound of his thighs slapping the back of yours is repetitive, your body jerking with each shallow thrust. “that’ll—hngh… show you,” he grunts, burying himself to the hilt and knocking the wind from your lungs.
“next time you wanna be a brat, be prepared for the consequences, yeah?”
