ellievsbear
almost home
Jules of Nature
dirt enthusiast
$LAYYYTER
Three Goblin Art
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Discoholic 🪩
Misplaced Lens Cap
Mike Driver
No title available
trying on a metaphor
ojovivo
KIROKAZE
Sade Olutola
if i look back, i am lost
oozey mess
Janaina Medeiros
Game of Thrones Daily
Monterey Bay Aquarium
seen from Netherlands
seen from Spain
seen from Germany
seen from Spain
seen from United States
seen from Australia
seen from South Korea
seen from Russia
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
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seen from Brazil
seen from Brazil
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@vitasexualiss
MORE SAWRONPA FOR HALLOWEEN!!!!!!
wanted to do alot more but i only just finished hajime in time so maybe another time. traps in order is needle pit, brain surgery, venus flytrap/death mask and pound of flesh
im grateful that i didnt have to change anything to fit the characters bc its already so perfect
I can't believe they're back for 2026....mis amores.
I love this stupid bug. (๑-﹏-๑)
hellooo fellow tumblr users. first time on this app hopefully i don’t disappoint… anywhooo, first fic hope you like. roommate denji lololol
word count arounddd 3.3k
Denji knew it was wrong.
He knew it the second he closed the door behind him and stepped into your room, heart hammering like he was about to rob a bank instead of just… borrowing something. Something small. Something soft.
It wasn’t like he planned on it. Not really. He was just looking for the charger he left in there last night—or that’s what he told himself, anyway. But the second he saw your laundry basket, half-full and a little messy, something short-circuited in his brain.
Because there it was.
Lacy. Black. Still warm, maybe. Definitely yours.
Denji stared for a full minute before he caved like the pathetic dog he was. He reached in, grabbed the pair with shaking hands, and held it to his nose.
Oh.
The scent was fucking intoxicating. Not perfume—just you. Skin. Warmth. He groaned before he even realized it, his free hand already slipping into the waistband of his sweats.
His knees hit the side of their bed. Fuck, it smelled like you too. Your sheets. Your pillow. Your everything. It wasn’t fair.
He’d been thinking about you for weeks now—dreaming about you sprawled out. All he got was stolen glances and dirty laundry.
And yet here he was, rutting against your goddamn comforter, your underwear pressed to his face like a pervert. Like a freak. Like the filth he was.
“Mmh—shit…” he muttered, low and desperate, hips stuttering.
And that’s exactly when the door creaked open.
Denji froze.
Wide-eyed. Caught mid-stroke, hand buried in his pants, mouth parted like a dog that just got kicked. Your voice hit his ears like a gunshot.
“…What the fuck are you doing?”
Time slowed. The underwear dropped from his hand. His brain screamed for a lie, but his dick? Still hard. Still out. Still very, very obvious.
He blinked.
“I swear, I—I was just—”
The silence was unbearable.
You just stood there. Looking at him.
Not yelling. Not… anything. Just looking.
His mouth opened, trying to spit out some kind of excuse—something, anything that made this seem less deranged.
But then your voice cut through the air, calm. Unnervingly cool.
“You just gonna stand there?”
His brain short-circuited. “What?”
You took a step closer, slow, deliberate.
“You made the mess. Clean it up.”
His eyes darted down, confused. He followed your gaze—oh. Shit. He’d definitely left a little something on the edge of the comforter.
He stumbled forward, still half-hard, heart racing.
“Right! Right, yeah—I-I got it, I’ll grab some tissues or like, a towel or something—”
“No.”
He stopped dead in his tracks.
You didn’t move, but your voice sharpened just slightly—commanding. You pointed at the bed.
Then at yourself.
Then—oh god. Then you pointed at your mouth.
Denji blinked.
Heart stopped.
Dick twitched.
“Wh—wha… with my mouth?”
You didn’t say a word.
Just looked him in the eye.
Denji’s brain was going haywire. He must’ve passed out and started hallucinating. There’s no way this was real. No way you were actually telling him to—?
“You want me to lick that up?” he asked, voice cracking somewhere between disbelief and raw, desperate arousal.
No answer.
Denji’s throat went dry.
He dropped to his knees without thinking.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “Okay. Shit. I’ll do it. I’ll fucking do anything.”
His face hovered just above the spot he’d marked, the scent of you mixed with him hitting his nose like a drug. Embarrassment and arousal tangled in his gut.
He looked up at you one last time, checking if this was a trap, a joke, anything.
But all he saw in your eyes was impatience. Expectation.
Denji licked his lips.
“You’re so fucking mean,” he whispered, before lowering his mouth to the stain.
His tongue dragged across the fabric, slow and unsure at first, like he was waiting for someone stop him.
Of course, no one did.
He glanced up. You were still standing there—arms crossed, one hip cocked, watching him like he was something beneath you. Like you were bored.
Or amused.
That made it worse. Made it better.
His cheeks were flushed, red creeping up his neck, hair sticking to his forehead from the heat building under his skin.
“You’re really making me do this, huh…” he mumbled, eyes flickering to yours.
Nothing. Not a word. Just a little tilt of your head. Like, keep going.
Denji swallowed hard and licked again. Sloppier this time. On purpose. Maybe you’d like it more. Maybe you’d touch him if he did it right.
He looked up, eyes wide and needy. “You’re so mean,” he whispered again, lower this time. Hoarse.
You leaned forward a little, finally speaking.
“You gonna cry?”
That nearly made him moan. The humiliation of it all. The way you said it so flat, like he was pathetic. Like he’d earned this.
And fuck, maybe he had.
His hand twitched toward his dick again, instinctual. He didn’t even realize he was touching himself until you spoke again—sharper, clipped.
“Ah ah. Don’t touch.”
He choked. “I’m gonna die.”
You didn’t care.
You just raised your foot and pressed it lightly to his shoulder, pushing him back down—back toward the mess.
“Then die begging.”
Denji whimpered.
He leaned forward again, mouth open, tongue back on the fabric like a dog trying to earn scraps.
His hips were twitching involuntarily now. He was humping the air like an animal, whimpering as he licked up his own cum off your sheets, still fully clothed, painfully hard, and completely fucking wrecked.
You were so calm. So still.
He hated it. He loved it.
“Are you… are you gonna touch me?” he asked, breathless. “Or am I just gonna keep licking like a loser?”
You tapped your finger on your chin, pretending to think.
Then—
“Might let you hump my leg if you do it better.”
Denji nearly blacked out on the spot.
He looked up, tongue still pressed against the spot on your sheets where he’d made the mess—his mess—and his brain short-circuited for the hundredth time that night.
“F-For real?” he stammered, lips wet, eyes already glassy.
You just shrugged.
Didn’t say yes. Didn’t say no.
Just raised your foot again, toe nudging his chin up like he was nothing but a needy little mutt waiting for a command.
“You look like you need it.”
God, he did. He really fucking did.
His whole body was buzzing, sweaty and hot and aching under the weight of how fucking turned on he was. His boxers were soaked through, his dick was drooling like it had a mind of its own, and his pride? Shattered. Burned. Gone.
He practically crawled to you like a dog—slow, shaking, eyes wide and pleading.
“Please,” he muttered, voice cracking. “Please, I’ll—I’ll be good. I’ll hump it real good, I swear.”
You rolled your eyes like he was pathetic. Because he was.
Then you stuck one leg out, planting your foot firmly on the floor. Your thigh, smooth and bare, waited like a throne he wasn’t good enough to sit on.
“Go ahead then,” you said, dry and cruel.
Denji nearly moaned.
He straddled your thigh, grinding against it with his whole body trembling. His clothed cock throbbed against the fabric of your skin, and he whined like he was about to lose his mind.
“Oh fuck—thank you—shit—” he babbled, rutting against your thigh like an animal, hips jerking in quick, pathetic thrusts. “You’re so—I’m gonna—please don’t stop me—”
But you didn’t move.
Didn’t help. Didn’t kiss him. Didn’t even touch him.
Just let him use your leg like a toy. Like he didn’t deserve more.
He kept going, humping harder, tongue hanging out of his mouth, sweat dripping off his chin. Your thigh flexed a little and he nearly lost it on the spot.
“Feels so good—feels so good—” he whined.
You finally looked down at him, eyes heavy with amusement.
“You’re making a mess on me.”
He choked on his breath.
“S-Sorry! I—I can clean it—again—”
“With what?” You asked, arching a brow.
He looked up, dazed. Dumb.
“M-My mouth again?”
“Good boy.”
That broke him.
His hips stuttered. His legs shook. His whole body collapsed forward, and he buried his face in the crook of your neck, whimpering, grinding out short, frantic little thrusts as he teetered on the edge.
“Can I—can I cum?” he asked, muffled against your skin. “Please lemme cum. I’ll lick it up, I swear—”
You tilted your head.
Casual. Calm. Amused.
“No.”
His breath caught.
You hadn’t even touched him. Hadn’t kissed him, hadn’t even spared him a single kind stroke. Just let him rut against you like a dog in heat while you barely reacted. That made it worse. That made it so much worse.
He whimpered again—high, strangled.
“I’ll do anything,” he panted. “Please—”
You smirked.
“Then stop.”
Denji blinked.
Stopped moving.
His body still pulsed with every heartbeat.
“Wha…?”
“I said stop.”
Your voice didn’t change. Still calm. Still amused.
He sat there, frozen, cock twitching in his pants, soaked through with his own pre, aching so bad it hurt to breathe. The pressure was unbearable.
“Don’t.”
The command hit him like a slap.
He clenched his fists, trembling all over. His whole body screamed to keep moving, to finish, to do anything for release—but you didn’t budge.
You just leaned back slightly in your seat and crossed your legs, the one he’d been humping shifting beneath him.
“You said you’d do anything,” you murmured, lips barely curled. “So be good. Be patient.”
Denji let out the softest whine. Almost a sob.
“Y-You’re so mean,” he choked. “You’re so fucking mean.”
You dragged your fingers slowly—lazily—across the edge of your thigh, right where he’d been a second ago. Teasing.
“Mean?” you said, blinking at him with mock offense. “But I let you hump me. You should be grateful.”
He nodded so fast. Like an idiot.
“I am! I’m grateful! I’m—I’d kiss your foot if you let me cum—please—”
“Aw,” you cooed. “But kissing my foot sounds like a reward. You’re not there yet.”
His soul left his body.
He stared at you with red, watery eyes, lips trembling, sweat dripping off his chin. He looked like a broken toy. A kicked puppy.
“Y/N…” he whispered.
You just sighed, bored, like you were watching a commercial you’d seen a hundred times.
“Lie down. On your back.”
Denji obeyed immediately, collapsing flat on the floor with his legs spread, dick straining in his sweats, eyes blown wide with hope. You stood over him, foot between his legs, looking down like he was nothing.
“Hands above your head.”
He obeyed.
“No touching.”
A whimper.
You stepped forward, pressing the tip of your shoe gently against his twitching cock.
Just barely.
“Now stay there. And beg me not to leave.”
Denji nearly cried.
His brain was fucking scrambled. All he could feel was the ache between his legs and the heat spreading across his face.
Your shoe finally, finally, pressed just a little harder between his legs.
He almost cried.
“You think you deserve it now?”
He nodded. Too fast. Too eager. His hips bucked upward.
“Yes. Yes, please, I’ve been so good—“
“No,” you cut in, expression hardening slightly. “Good boys don’t hump without asking.”
Denji’s whole body flinched as if you’d slapped him.
“I’ll beg—I’ll do anything.”
You crouched down over him now, finally touching him—but only with your hand under his chin, lifting his flushed face up to yours
“Anything?”
He nodded, frantic.
“Then open your mouth.”
He obeyed so fast it was embarrassing. Lips parted, tongue slightly out, eyes wide like he was waiting for a treat.
You smirked. Shifted forward.
And sat on his face.
Not fully—just enough that your heat hovered right over his mouth. Enough for him to feel you. Smell you. But not taste.
Denji let out a muffled groan beneath you.
“Nuh-uh,” you said, rocking your hips forward just enough to make him twitch. “No licking yet.”
He whimpered beneath you, hands still flat above his head, entire body tensed like a loaded spring.
“Fuckfuckfuck,” he muttered under his breath, muffled by your thighs. “I can’t—I’m gonna cum in my pants—”
You ground down just once, slowly, and his whole body spasmed. His hips bucked upward on instinct before he caught himself, biting back a whimper that vibrated against you.
You hummed, pleased.
“You’re so easy.”
Denji was shaking now, eyes rolling back slightly, tongue twitching as he tried not to move even an inch, terrified that if he did, you’d stop.
“Say thank you,” you whispered.
“T-Thank you—” he gasped. “Thank you thank you thank you—”
You lowered your hips slowly until your heat finally met his mouth, soft and wet and so warm, and he moaned like you’d blessed him. Tongue immediately working like a starving man, licking, trying to please you with every trembling breath he had left.
“That’s better,” you murmured, head tilted back. “Use that mouth.”
Denji moaned into you like it was a prayer.
And still—no touching. His cock throbbed in his pants, untouched, leaking, crying for friction. He was aching so bad it felt like punishment. But his mouth stayed locked on you like he was hypnotized, completely devoted, grinding out soft, broken whimpers into your skin.
You let him drown there.
“Don’t cum,” you warned. “Not ‘til I—“ A slight hesitation, a small gasp. “Not ‘til I say.”
He cried.
Denji was a mess beneath you—lips wet, eyes glassy, tongue still worshiping you with soft licks like you were the only thing keeping him alive.
You watched him squirm, riding that cute little mouth at your own pace, hips rolling slowly like you had all the time in the world. His arms were twitching above his head, his fists clenched like he was holding back an earthquake.
You looked down at him. Smiled.
“You’re kinda cute sometimes.”
That broke him.
His eyes fluttered. A whimper escaped his throat, muffled and pleading, like your words had physically hurt him.
You laughed, soft and breathy, and reached down to ruffle his messy blond hair, tugging it between your fingers like he was your pet.
“Wanna be my toy?”
He nodded fast. Eager. Mindless.
You didn’t move.
Your hand fisted his hair, just enough to make him whimper.
“Uh uh. Toys don’t move.”
Denji froze.
“Toys don’t nod. Toys don’t speak. Toys don’t cum.”
He let out the weakest little gasp under you, eyes wide like a kicked puppy, tongue still trembling against your heat.
You shifted forward again, smothering him just a little deeper, and he moaned like a man dying of thirst with water dripping into his mouth.
You moaned, soft and pleased, grinding down gently until your thighs trembled. And then—only then—did you tilt your hips back and let him breathe.
He gasped like he’d been underwater for minutes. His face was soaked. His lips were red. And his cock—oh god, it was pulsing through his sweats like it had a heartbeat of its own.
You reached down and ran your fingers lightly over his waistband.
“You’ve been good.”
He looked up at you, trembling.
“R-Really?”
“Mmhm. I mean, you’re still messy. But…”
You leaned in close, lips brushing his ear.
“Good enough for me.”
He shuddered. Almost came.
“So tell me,” you purred. “What do you want?”
Denji choked. His hands were shaking.
“Y-You. I want you. Please—”
You clicked your tongue.
He whimpered. Tears welled in his eyes.
You finally slipped your fingers into his waistband, pressing against the slick head of his cock through his boxers, and he arched like he was electrocuted.
“Shh,” you whispered. “Then be still.”
He froze.
And you stroked him once.
Slow.
Firm.
Unforgiving.
“You’re not cumming,” you warned. “You’re too cute when I tease you.”
Denji nodded—then immediately whimpered at himself and clamped down his whole body, remembering:
Toys don’t move.
He didn’t know how long he’d been laying there.
Time didn’t exist when you were above him like that, hands soft but commanding, voice low and syrupy like you knew you had him on a string.
Denji’s chest was heaving. His thighs twitched where they lay open. His arms had gone numb from holding them still, fists clenched like he was bracing for an explosion.
He whimpered—just enough to keep you happy. Not a word. Not a twitch. His mouth was parted, red and wet, chest rising like he’d run miles.
You smiled like you were proud of yourself. Or maybe of him. Or both.
You leaned over his lap again and dragged your fingers down the thick bulge in his pants—slow—and the noise he made was so high it didn’t even sound human. He was shaking. Hips twitching like his body was betraying him.
“Still leaking,” you said mockingly, fingers lifting to reveal his boxers had a dark, wet spot spreading across the front. “That’s, like, the third time. What a mess.”
Denji whimpered again, barely biting back a sob. He didn’t even care how pathetic he looked anymore. He just wanted your hands. Your praise. You.
But all you did was sit back on her heels, smug, and hum.
“I should just leave you like this.”
He jerked—eyes wide, stomach sinking.
“Toys don’t need to cum, right?” you teased, lips tugging into a cruel smile.
His head shook without thinking.
Your smile dropped. Slowly.
“…Did my toy just move?”
Denji froze in horror. He wanted to cry. He almost did.
“I—I didn’t mean to—I just—”
You put a finger to his lips.
“You’re lucky you’re so cute like this”
And then, finally, you leaned in close. Pressed your hand against the soaked bulge between his legs. And whispered:
“But I also like watching you fall apart.”
He whimpered like a kicked puppy. So desperate. So soft.
And you paused.
You watched him squirm for a moment, studied the way his eyes glistened, the way his lips trembled, the way his hips were practically vibrating with need—but still didn’t move.
And your heart… melted.
“…Oh, Denji. “
Your voice dropped to something gentle.
His head jerked up, confused.
“You really have been good,” you said, with a sudden warmth that didn’t feel like a tease.
He blinked.
Huh?
You leaned down. Kissed the corner of his mouth. Just once. Just soft enough to make his breath catch.
“Do whatever you want.”
He stared at you. Frozen.
“Go ahead,” you murmured. “I’m sorry for being mean. You’re just too cute. You’ve earned it.”
The silence stretched.
Then his body broke.
He lunged at you, desperate, mouth finding your neck, your chest, your lips, hands flying to your waist like he thought you’d disappear. He whined against your skin like he was starving. His hips rutted up without restraint, grinding shamelessly into your thigh.
You didn’t stop him. You just laughed—softly. Letting him crawl into your lap.
You stroked his hair gently while he trembled in your arms, wet and needy and moaning into your skin, grinding like he was going to cry from the pleasure.
And just when he looked up—eyes wide, cheeks flushed, lips swollen—you smiled at him and said:
“You’re such a good boy.”
Genuine. Soft. Proud.
And that was it.
Denji came in his boxers like he’d been waiting his whole life for that line.
He buried his face in your neck, crying and gasping, still rutting weakly even after the release left him twitching.
You looked down at the mess he’d made of his underwear, still for a moment. Then laughed. A genuine laugh.
Denji met your eyes after a moment, confused. Embarrassed. As if he were asking what was so funny.
“You didn’t even get inside of me before you came.” You lifted a hand to stroke his hair, still giggling. “Even after I’d given you permission.”
His dick hadn’t softened in the slightest post-orgasm. He didn’t think it ever would. “…Can I still…?”
All you did was smile. Sincerely.
older bf!nanami spoils you quietly. thoughtfully. he never makes a show of it—the fresh bouquet on your nightstand every sunday, the lunchboxes packed when he knows you’ll be busy, the way he lets you drag him into shops just to buy you trinkets that “make no financial sense,” yet his wallet’s already out.
he’s older, calm, and terrifyingly composed, but he never makes you feel small—until you’re under him like this.
“k-kento… t-too big—!” your breath hitches, nails clawing into his forearms, but he doesn’t stop. his hips are relentless, driving his cock deeper, harder—brutal, merciless, a sharp contrast to the man who buttoned your coat for you this morning. “i know, darling,” he coos, lips brushing your temple, but there’s a dark gleam in his eyes as he watches you fall apart. “but you’re taking me so well, aren’t you? such a good girl.”
you’re folded in half—legs pinned to your chest, body trembling as he pounds into you, thick and deep, splitting you open with every brutal thrust. his cock kisses your cervix, the heavy drag making your toes curl. “k-kento—ahh—too much… f-feels so good, i—” your words melt into high-pitched whines, drool spilling from the corner of your lips as you squirm beneath him.
“look at you,” he murmurs, pace never faltering, “so pretty when you can’t even form a sentence. what happened to my sharp girl, hmm?” his words are sweet, but the way his hips snap against you—rough, punishing—has your mind blanking. “kento! ahh—mmph—fuck—!” you sob, overwhelmed, nails raking down his back as his cock drags along every sensitive spot inside you, every thrust making your brain fuzzier.
he leans down, mouth messy against your lips, licking into you as his cock bullies its way back into your squelching cunt. “that’s it. take it. you can take a little more, can’t you?”
“y-yes! yes, please—” you cry, teary-eyed, completely cockdrunk as he rocks you into the mattress. “my good girl,” he praises, voice so tender it’s almost cruel, even as his hips roll with devastating force. “let me fuck you dumb, sweetheart. you don’t have to think—just feel me.”
and god, you do. every inch of him. every filthy, perfect inch.
© seidoll | don't copy, repost, or translate any of my work
i love this freak so much ♡
cw mentions of blood, gyutaro is a demon so he smells bad !!! , disgusting smells <3
he licks a long stripe up your neck to your cheek, his entire body shivering as he tastes you. you taste so sweet, savory— like a slab of meat.
"so.. pretty.." his voice shakes as he fucks into you, your beautiful sakura decorated kimono ripped to shreds by this fucking— demon.
he smells like blood— it's disgusting, putrid, horrid even, and yet you find yourself cumming all over him.
"g-gyuuu.. please, please.. don't stop.—" you gasp out, watching as his body bends in the most weirdest way— his bones cracking as he continues to fuck his swollen cock into you. after all the nights of him fucking into his palm as he watches you bathe— he finally has you cumming on him.
"can– can i cum inside?.. please, please. oh fuck— please. please. lemme, let me, lemme cum inside you— nngh." he babbles before sinking his teeth into your shoulder until your blood trinkles out, causing you to yell in pain— he uses his saliva to heal the wound as he stills his hips inside of you.
so much cum spills out, soiling your sheets, whatever is left of your kimono as well. you both stay there, your tummy almost bloated from how much he came.
"gyutaro.. will you come back?" you whisper, almost as if you spoke too loud, you'd wake up from a dream.
"y-yes." he mumbles, "always, always, always for you. so pretty. my girl.. so pretty.. so perfect– l-loving something like mee.. ahh... it's so so— good."
he nuzzles his head into you as if he were an animal, the scent of him still remaining but you don't really care anymore— your chest covered with his drool. you place your hand on the back of his head, in a silent attempt to soothe him.
"mhm. you're so pretty too, gyu."
࿐ 𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧; 𝙜𝙮𝙪𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙤 𝙨. ⋆ 𐙚 ̊.
➺ cw: smut, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, popular x outcast trope, mean!reader kinda, modern au, human!gyutaro
➺ wc: 1,4k (so...this turned out much longer than anticipated)
The locker room is empty at this hour, the neon lights buzzing faintly above you. From beyond the door, the muffled sounds of a basketball bouncing against the polished wood of the gym floor can be heard, mixing with the occasional squeak of sneakers and shouts. Some of the guys must still be messing around, getting in a few extra shots before heading home.
You should be out there too—rehearsing with the cheer team, maintaining your perfect image and making sure no one suspects a thing. But instead you’re here, riding the school’s biggest loser on a beat-up wooden bench, your cheer skirt bunched around your waist and the wet slap of skin against skin echoing in the quiet room.
࿐ 𝙘𝙖𝙢! — 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙣𝙚; 𝙜𝙮𝙪𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙤 𝙨. ⋆ 𐙚 ̊.
➺ PAIRING | gyutaro shabana x fem!reader.
➺ CONTENT WARNING | modern setting, gyutaro is human, camgirl reader, sex work, use of sex toys, masturbation, nasty comments from men. wc: 2,3k
➺ NOTE | [[ ⚠️ THIS IS A REPOST OF CHAPTER 1 : THE ORIGINAL HAS BEEN DELETED BY TUMBLR ]] You guys... I've been cooking this one for MONTHS and it's finally ready for you to read! I'm actually planning on turning this into a multiple part series if it gets a good enough response. Also, the plot and some of the dialogue are somewhat inspired by the movie CAM! feedback would be much appreciated 🫶🏻 Read on AO3. (recommended)
CHAPTER 2 / CHAPTER 3
The lights in Gyutaro's room are dimmed to the minimum, his laptop screen being the brightest source in the space. Blood is already rushing to his cheeks as the stream starts up, your camera switching on to reveal the familiar setting of your room.
He presses the volume up.
“Hi everyone! Sorry for the late start, I couldn't get this freaking eyeliner to cooperate.”
The camera refocuses as you sit on your queen-sized bed, elegantly positioning your legs. You're wearing a different wig this time, he notices. He likes it.
୨୧﹕fem!reader, denji recording u
camera's rolling. flash from denji’s cracked iphone screen throws jagged light over your bare thighs as you straddle his lap, sweat-slick and grinning like a demon’s girl. he’s spread on the couch like he owns it—shirtless, jeans shoved down to mid-thigh, the bulge of his cock twitching with every breath.
you’re already grinding on it, bare pussy leaking down the length of him as he aims the phone up between your spread legs.
"say hi, babe," he mutters, voice hoarse with arousal, that sharp canine grin splitting his face.
your voice is low, sultry, dripping with shameless heat. “you better be jerking off to this later, denji. i want you to cum watching me bounce on your cock.”
he groans, thumb sliding over the screen to zoom in—tight on your soaked folds grinding over the head of his dick, teasing, making him throb under you. “shit, that’s so fucking hot. look at that pussy. she’s drooling.”
you press your hands to his chest, nails digging into the muscles as you slowly sink down, inch by inch, his cock spreading you wide, your slick walls squeezing around him like a vise. “f-fuck, denji… you’re stretching me so good—”
“yeah? moan louder. wanna hear you beg. gotta make this shit go viral.”
your hips jerk down hard, bottoming out on him with a wet slap, and the camera shakes in his hand from how fast he snaps up to meet your thrust. the whole couch rocks with the impact. his other hand grabs your ass, squeezing hard, spreading you for the lens.
“that’s it,” he hisses through his teeth, sweat glistening along his collarbone. “ride me like the fucktoy you are, babe. fucking slutty pornstar.”
you roll your hips, fast and filthy, the wet squelch of your cunt riding him echoing with every bounce. you look straight into the lens, eyes lidded, lips parted in a cock-hungry smile. “this is my fuckin’ video, huh? this how you wanted it, baby?”
denji groans deep and low. “this is better. fuck—bounce that ass. make me cum just from watching this later.”
the camera dips, gets a perfect angle of your tits bouncing with every thrust, your nipples hard, glistening with sweat. you grab them, squeeze, pinch, moaning louder now, totally lost in it.
“you like this pussy?” you pant, voice cracked, soaked with want. “tell them how tight it is, denji. tell them how much you fucking need it.”
he pants into the mic, cock twitching inside you. “tightest fucking cunt i’ve ever been in. fuck, it’s so wet—i’m not gonna last. fuck, fuck—ride it, ride it—make me cum, bitch.”
your movements get harsher, sloppier, the slapping sounds louder. “cum in me. fucking fill me up and film it. i want everyone to see your cum leaking out of me, denji. want them jerking off to it. want them jealous.”
the way he growls your name is pure feral. his hips snap up hard, thrusting into you, making you cry out as his cock pulses, thick and twitching deep in your cunt. and then—the warmth floods you, ropes of cum coating your insides, dripping around the shaft still buried in you.
he’s panting hard now, still filming as your body trembles, juices running down your thighs. you slowly pull off, his cum dripping in thick globs from your stretched hole.
he groans like a man possessed.
the video ends with your fingers scooping up the cum, licking it off slow, eyes on the lens.
denji moans behind the camera. the phone clicks off—but only after he mutters, “i’m gonna watch this every damn night.”
KITTY RAY🪄🪄🪄🪄🪄🐱🐱
suddenly! kazuhina content
future foundation kyoko lives rent free in my head
aaah I'm actually so excited to post this cuz it turned out so good 💞
also same Gyutaro, same. Dunno where ppl could be looking at when Tengen is in front of them
"𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐦𝐨𝐦 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮?!"
𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟑𝟎: 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐭
꒦꒷‧₊ Summary You love teasing your shy step-brother, Gyutaro. Always wearing revealing clothes and flaunting in front of him every chance you get. Even though he tries to hide it, it's so obvious that you turn him on. ꒦꒷‧₊ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, 18+ MDNI, step-brother!Gyutaro, virgin!Gyutaro, stepcest, dubcon, handjob, vaginal sex, creampie. ꒦꒷‧₊ Note 2.1k words. This ended up being one of my favorite entries to write! I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did!
✧:･ﾟ→ Kinktober Masterlist
me whenever something happens
They are so adorable :,)
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