‧｡˚ 𐚱 kirishima’s fingers are thick and long and scarred, rough and calloused from hero work and so, so gentle when they touch you. he slips two inside you, achingly slow, and it feels like he’s punched the air from your chest. you slump backwards against him and sigh his name, gripping at his wrist when he crooks his fingers inside you.
“that good?” he murmurs against the shell of your ear, his pointed teeth catching on your skin and sending shivers down your spine.
“mmhm,” you moan, your head stuffed full of kiri, kiri, kiri. his other arm wraps around your form and holds you tighter against him, warm and steady and secure. his fingers pump into you, squishing obscenely, your pussy clenching and suckling around him and your eyes roll back, mouth dropping open.
you feel his other hand glide up your side, over your stomach, over your breasts, to settle on your neck, squeezing just enough to make you go all soft and dumb in his hold.
“you like that, baby? hmm? oh, you’re so cute. so good you can’t speak, huh, sweetheart? that’s okay. i’ll take care of you.”
