I’m so ashamed of my English skills, since it’s not my first lenguaje there’s a lot of mistakes in my drabbles. I hope you guys understand 🥹
As a perfectionist hispanic woman I want to do my best, even if it’s just for my nasty tumblr shit
BYEEEE 🫦
kirishima is such a dry humper like…every make out sesh on the couch escalates into something more because he cannot stop himself from just grinding you into oblivion on those couch cushions lol
sex bots on tumblr dot com desire me carnally in my chatbox but alas im in a relationship with 4 fictional characters so i must refuse their romantic advances
TW: SCRATCHES, 18+
JUST SAYINGGG !!!
it’s his dirtiest, sacred secret; one he’s beyond ashamed of. poor little izuku can’t get it up without feeling a little pain. if he had to play therapist for a minute, izuku would circle his fetish back to his early yuuei days. quirk training was hard—painful. perhaps he’s built up a tolerance for the pain, and has even grown to like it? honestly, he could care less about the logistics of it all. the only thing occupying his dumb mind is the thought of your heel digging into his chest.
izuku decided to bring the idea up one night in bed. you two were getting hot and heavy under the sheets: you sat in his clothed lap, grinding slow and languid as your tongues lapped into each other’s open, warm mouth. the serenity was cut short when izuku squeezed at your hips, retracting back. “wait-wait h-hang on a sec,” izu stuttered, speaking through wet lips. his face was vermillion, throat dry with humiliation. “i wanna try somethin’ tonight.”
you agreed to give into his desires, to rough him up a bit in bed, and the rest was history. he’d spent the rest of the night teaching you how to choke him properly. with you in his lap, izuku guided your hand up to his thick neck. “find my pulse,” he whispered, tilting his head back to give you ample pace. “squeeze there, on the sides of my neck. right under my jaw—there you go, right there.” that night was the first of many thigh-shaking orgasms for izuku.
next time was on the couch. izuku had made a move during movie night, sinking before you onto his knees. the carpet burned against his flesh, but that only elicited a moan of excitement from the boy. in no time, izuku’s head buried itself between your porcelain thighs, eating you out with such vigor, you had been rendered delirious.
then, there was another instruction asked by him. “pull my hair,” he mumbled out against your skin, pleading in between short kisses to the apex of your thigh. “please, pl—pull my hair, y/n. make it hurt.” how could you deny such a delectable request? your fingers weaved through messy, forest locks, yanking his roots with curled fingers. izuku groaned into your pussy, his eyes literally rolling back into his skull. “harder,” he begged, shifting his right hand into his pants, presumably to stroke himself, while the latter stayed gripping onto your thigh as he sheathed his tongue deep into your folds.
even when izuku is feeling more dominant for the evening, he still craves to be tortured by your pretty hands. he had you in missionary after a particularly rough patrol, hips knocking into yours with stern, quick strokes. “hey,” he muttered low, dipping his head down to place his lips against your ear lobe. “why’re you gripping the blanket? my back is right here.”
even through the intense pleasure, you managed to wield your infamous smirk before sinking your fingernails into the taught, smooth expanse of izuku’s muscular back. “fuuuu—” his pace quickens, eyebrows pulled together as he tries to edge himself. “fuck me up, honey. m-make me bleed, please, god… s-shit!” as his cum leaked from between your legs, izuku reveled in the sting of scratches over his upper back.
yeah, izuku liked pain.
: :: ꒰ masterlist.°꒱ ꒰ mailbox.°꒱
Hi! I was thinking about your, "it's for luck, baby" fic - ESPECIALLY Armin, and that got me thinking about his first time going down and what that learning process was like...
BABEEE— can u tell armin is my fave 👉👈 for the other boys i was like ‘fuck outta here that’s good enough’ BUT MY BOY???
but i see u, i see ur vision.
i can imagine armin is a fast learner, he knows the theory but he gets a little nervous in practice… but once he knows what makes you squirm?? he’s so using that shit against you:
armin would definitely unintentionally tease you the first time he goes down on you—he’s such a body worshipper i can feel it— and he’s taking too fucking LONG to get to the point.
you guide him a little, tugging on his hair and pulling him closer to your pussy cus lawd the fact that he’s so inexperienced yet so down to please you just drives you CRAZY
he’s nervous when he finally pulls your panties down your legs but the moment he sees your glistening cunt all for HIM? he’s fucking salivating—
“you wanna touch me right here, m’kay ‘min?” and you guide his hand to your swollen clit but armin already knows where to touch you, like i said, he’s a theory man.
and he rubs little circles on your clit, not too hard or too soft “am i doing it right?”
and god when he puts his mouth on you? his tongue lapping up your juices and his fingers prodding at your hole like he’s done this a billion fucking times.
as soon as he finds out what makes your hips grind against his tongue and what makes you tug harder on his hair or scream out his name or mutter “please please, fuck, just like that!” you are so done for because he will have this shit-eating grin plastered across his face as he purposely teases you, feigning innocence cus “i’m not very experienced, can you talk me through it please, baby?”
I need more of this. Literally the BEST I've ever read.
Dear Diary || Sanji Vinsmoke x f!reader || NSFW [minors DNI]
CW: reader wears a skirt, masturbation (m), vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, creampie, praise kink
WC: 3.6k
AO3 Link
It was an accident.
Or at the very least, that’s the story Sanji had hastily prepared as he sat perched on the edge of your bed, your diary held tightly in his grasp.
It was an accident, he’d say if anyone wandered in while he perused its pages—it had fallen on the floor and he was merely trying to find out who it belonged to, that’s why it was splayed open in his hand. Really, you see, it was completely innocent.
Seguir leyendo
imagine leg locking a fucked out izuku
his hips hitting against yours in a disgraceful rhythm as your pussy pours out juices on his thick cock. his head laying between your shoulder and neck, harsh breaths hitting your skin as his hands hold your waist down.
held back whines sound in your ear before his hoarse voice tells you he’s close to cumming. your hands raise up to his messy green hair before you wrap your legs around his thin waist. “cum in me baby, cum in my pussy.” you moan as you suck his already covered neck, pushing him right to the edge.
my first sauna experience, told with katsuki bakugo. warnings for nsfw, afab reader, no pronouns used tho! reader wears a bikini, semi public? (it's a sauna), bit of nipple play, kats likes boobs n booty, hickeys, uses of "babe" and "bitch", fingering, mentions of the pill.
katsuki bakugo despises saunas. he sweats like crazy during his day to day life, so him being trapped in a room that makes him sweat balls isn't ideal. unless, he's trapped inside with you.
what started out as a pool day to cool off led to to borderline suffocation, the vapor and eucalyptus leaves making your body tense up even more as you straddle the blond's lap. his lips clash against yours in a hungry, desperate kiss, as his hands roam over your thighs.
katsuki bakugo is intoxicating. once you kiss him, it suddenly becomes impossible to stop. the way his tongue slips past your lips to wrestle yours so easily, how he bites your bottom lip not too hard for it to bleed, but hard enough to leave a mark, how he always manages to find that sweet spot on your neck as he nibbles his way to your breasts—
katsuki bakugo is a fucking genius. sometimes.
there's a limit to his greatness. because you're katsuki's first everything, and he's fucking clueless. as his hand carefully (and cluelessly) fondles your breast beneath your bikini, you giggle. looking at him, you smile. "you can leave a mark on me, y'know? i don't bite."
he scoffs, "you think i wanna hear shit from my mom during lunch when she sees you?"
"you can leave it somewhere she doesn't see, kats. i'll give you creative liberty, picasso."
katsuki retrives his hand as he starts to think. his looks your body up and down, looking for a spot. neck is a no-go, you never wear turtlenecks. thighs and stomach are off limits too, because half your closet is filled with cropped tshirts and shorts. you knew he had figured something out when his fingers gently pushed aside your bikini, driving his mouth to your breast. he suckles on a spot right above your nipple, as his fingers pinch to his liking.
your body's quick to react, back arching slightly as your hand is placed on katsuki's chest. "careful" you hiss, and he pays no mind. unconsciously, you buck your hips towards him, earning a groan in return. you let your hands roam through his hair, when he pulls away, a smirk is plastered on his face. "kinda looks like a heart. i did a damn good job."
his lips connect with yours once again, and his hands lower towards your ass. it's not unusual for katsuki to do so, but you notice their trajectory is a bit different this time. his fingers brush over the hem of your panties as you shudder, holding back a moan.
"let me see it" he demands, "just once."
and you nod, looking up at the ceiling from pure embarrassment. because it hasn't been too long since you and katsuki have been intimate. it drives you crazy how he's not shameful at all.
he pushes your panties to the side, groaning at the sight. his fingers ghost over your clit, two of them slowly sinking inside you. the sight of you taking his fingers is enough for katsuki to feel his cock twitch with excitement in his swim trunks. and as they begin to thrust, you lean closer to him, mewling his name right in his ear. it’s exhilarating, the thought that anyone could burst through the door is enough for katsuki to speed things up, just the way he likes it.
you curse your boyfriend’s coarse fingers, the sounds that escaped your lips were so raw, so lewd—you thought the security guard would bust you down at any second. and as you gripped desperately on katsuki's shoulders, he hums. it’s mostly during these moments when you see a side to katsuki bakugo the world has never seen.
“fuck—i need your pretty pussy. right now—please—just take me raw.”
katsuki bakugo begs.
your eyes widen at his statement, “katsuki, you do realize i’m not on the pill, right?”
he abruptly retrieves his fingers. “i’ll pull out, i swear—just fucking do it.”
you giggle at your boyfriend’s neediness, “you do realize if something goes wrong, we’ll have little me’s running around in a few months, right? it’s a no for now, kats. we’re still young.”
katsuki sighs, his hands guiding your hips as he aligned your entrance with his clothed cock. “then fucking use me. got that?”
you waste no time rocking your hips, slowly grinding against his bulge. with his hands still on you, katsuki throws his head back as he bucks his hips forward, helping you quicken the pace. “d’you know how good you feel? ‘s like you’re riding me, babe.”
you know katsuki is long gone from pleasure when he pulls out the names. when he’s a moaning mess, hungrily pulling you towards him, you know you have him right where you want him. a few slaps, rough kisses, and hair pulling, and katsuki is at his limit.
“fuck—bitch—i’m done” is what he manages to say before he comes undone, his forehead bumping against yours as he mutters a small ‘i love you.’
as you catch your breath, you plant a quick peck on your boyfriend’s cheek. “you ready for lunch with your parents, kats?”
“you shitting me?” he asks, bewildered. “you’re lucky i’m changing my trunks, cause i got nut all over.”
This is a lovely poem I will keep inside me for the rest of my life 🕊️
☆ COVER UP — tattoo artist!GETO SUGURU
summary: all you wanted was a cover up tattoo to replace the name your ex left on you. you didn't think you'd be leaving the tattoo shop with a replacement for your ex's tattoo and a replacement for him as well.
wc: 3k
cw: afab!reader, geto gives you backshots, he's kinda obsessed w/ your ass here, unprotected sex (since I forget condoms) BUT he's a gentleman pulls out </3 your kinda a meanie. he's kinda a meanie so light angst (?) but barely. MDNI
an: haven't posted a longer work in a hot minute, but here is how you meet tattoo artist boyfriend!geto soooo give this one a chance big fanks to my lil twat @kazushawty for helping me out and reading bits of it.
as you push open the heavy glass door of ‘cursed ink studios,’ a subtle bell chimes softly, announcing your presence. instantly, the atmosphere inside crackles with an electric charge. the air is thick with the intoxicating scent of ink, mingling with the sterile bite of antiseptic. the walls are adorned with vivid flash art form a chaotic tapestry, while the rhythmic hum of a tattoo gun echoes through the room.
and there he is, geto suguru – a tall, enigmatic figure with jet-black hair and sleeves of mesmerising tattoos that seem to tell stories of their own. he sits at his workbench, surrounded by an array of ink bottles and tattoo machines, his piercing eyes never leaving the art he's creating. a carefully curated playlist of music plays softly in the background, punctuated by the occasional buzzing of the tattoo gun.
he glances up from his intricate work as you enter, his gaze slowly travelling up and down your form. there's a hint of curiosity in his eyes, as though he's wondering why you, of all people, have ventured into his sacred space. his expression, however, suggests that he's far from thrilled about the interruption.
"need something?" he asks, his irritation evident.
"i need a cover-up” you swallow your nerves, holding your head high, your voice steady, ”my ex's name."
geto raises an eyebrow, seemingly unimpressed by your request. "ex's name, huh? you people never learn."
your jaw clenches at his condescending tone. "well, i'm here now, so can you do it or not?"
he continues to scrutinise you, his gaze feeling like a judgmental weight. finally, he nods, albeit reluctantly. "fine, show me."
with a sigh of resignation, you turn around, your heart pounding as you pull down the waistband of your jeans just enough to reveal the offending name covering your left ass cheek. it's a constant reminder of a relationship gone wrong, and you're more than ready to be rid of it.
"this won't be easy," he mutters, his fingers cool against your skin as he traces the outline of the name. his touch lingers, just a little too long, sending an unexpected shiver down your spine. his fingers, skilled and confident, continued to trace the inked letters of your ex's name on your skin — almost toyingly. and you could feel the chill of the tattoo parlour's air-conditioning contrasted by the warmth of his touch.
his voice, though still gruff, held a trace of disgust "who did this?" he asks, not looking up from the tattoo.
you hesitate, your memories of that past relationship flooding back. "my ex-boyfriend," you reply tersely.
geto's fingers stop their tracing, and he lets out a low, almost imperceptible sigh. "you let your boyfriend do a shitty tattoo on you, and you let him make it his name," he mutters, more to himself than to you. "you practically let him brand you."
“is it your job to be such a bitchy artist?” you snap, already fed up by his comments. you’ve heard it from your parents, your friends, ever since you got that trashy tattoo. but couldn't disagree with that sentiment — you knew it was a shit tattoo. “i thought i was paying you for your artistry, not your smart mouth.”
"listen," he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "you walk in here with that god awful mess on your skin, and you've got the nerve to criticise my attitude? if you want to be rid of it, you'll do well to keep that attitude in check, sweetheart."
you bite back a retort, realising that you've indeed crossed a line with your comment. there's a palpable tension in the air now, a simmering anger beneath the surface, and it seems that geto has no intention of backing down.
with a deep breath, you swallow your pride and offer a reluctant apology. "i'm sorry," you mutter, a touch of remorse in your voice. "i shouldn't have snapped at you."
he continues to hold your gaze for a moment, his expression still stern, before finally nodding. "apology accepted."
you didn’t actually have an idea of what you wanted for the cover up, you just knew you needed it gone. geto was a highly sought out cover artist so you had no doubt that he’d be able to do you good. with your initial meeting being heated, you thought it was best to leave him to do his thing.
with a sense of relief that the confrontation has subsided, you decide to give geto some space to work his magic. "i'll leave you to it," you say, your voice quieter now, and you turn away from him.
"good," he mutters, his focus fully on his ipad as he starts to sketch, not even looking as you leave the shop.
geto usually was quick to draw up tattoo sketches for clients, but when it came to you he was stunned — too busy thinking about how your ass looked rather than what he was meant to tattoo on it. from the moment you stepped in his shop, he was intrigued, you didn’t see the type to get work done by him and the marking stretched on your ass didn’t seem like it would belong to someone with an attitude like yours.
his mind was anything but focused on the design. he couldn't help but replay the encounter with you in his thoughts, your brashness and the way you'd stood your ground, even under his scrutiny.
"why the hell did she get that shitty tattoo?" he mutters to himself, his fingers deftly working his pen. the sketch was beginning to take shape, but his mind kept drifting back to the curve of your ass. he couldn't deny the attraction he felt, and it frustrated him. he was supposed to be a professional, detached from his clients beyond the art he created on their skin. but something about you had thrown him off balance.
“so you ready to get this tatted on you?” is the first thing he asks when you return the following day. you inspect his sketches in awe, of course you never doubted his talent but you didn’t think he’d be able to draw something you wanted without you even having to say.
“well it seems you do live up to your reputation,” you comment with a neutral facade, but you both know that you were downplaying your excitement — you were pleased. and like with any client, that made geto satisfied that he was doing his job correctly. but when he saw the way your eyes lit up when he initially showed you the sketches, it was a sight he wanted to see again. “i guess we can start the tattoo.”
“okay i’ll get my stuff set up, get rid of those,” he says nodding towards your jeans, “and lay down when you’re ready.” you slip yourself out of your bottoms, leaving the itty bitty thong that you knew you’d need for the appointment and that a small part of you hoped he liked.
he pauses when he sees you laying down on the seat in his station, your head resting in your arms, your ass slightly raised. ‘this is gonna be a long session,’ he thinks to himself as he smirks, shaking his head as he works his way to his seat.
as he sits down, he places the stencil over your ass, and you berate yourself for getting giddy at the feeling of him rubbing over the design to make sure it was in place — wishing that his hand stayed for longer.
“how are you with pain?” he asks, and from the way you were laying you weren’t able to see the way he was gawping at your ass.
“what type of pain?” you retort.
“y’know the type of pain where someones drilling into your ass for hours,” he comments as if it’s obvious but you both knew his words were hinting at more than just the tattoo.
“choice words there,” you muse, “but any type of pain i’m alright with, so give me your best.”
geto's needle hovers just above your skin, poised for action. "you sure about that?" he murmurs, his voice low and suggestive.
a coy smile tugs at your lips as you respond, "I can handle it if you can."
with a deliberate, almost tantalising slowness, he lowers the needle to your skin. the first touch is a sharp, stinging sensation, but you refuse to flinch. you're determined to hold your own, to meet geto's challenge head-on.
he continues to work, the needle dancing across your skin with a practised precision. the room is filled with the rhythmic sound of the tattoo machine, creating a hypnotic backdrop to your growing tension.
as minutes turn into hours, you find yourself lost in a strange mixture of pleasure and pain. the pain is undeniable, but there's something oddly exhilarating about it. you steal a glance at geto, his intense focus on his work, and you can't help but wonder if he's enjoying this as much as you are.
"still doing okay?" he asks, his tone a mix of concern and something more primal.
you bite your lower lip, suppressing a moan that threatens to escape. "i told you, i can handle it."
geto smirks, his gaze locked on your ass as he continues to tattoo. "you've got quite the threshold for pain. impressive."
“is it really? i'm sure you’ve worked on a lot of other clients with higher thresholds for pain.”
“but none of them have had an ass like yours though,” he mumbles to himself — but you hear him loud and clear, a grin forming on your face at the confession. “anyways, we’re all done now, go ahead and look in the mirror.”
you stand in the full length mirror, your head slightly turned at an angle as you gawp at your ass. your eyes widen seeing what was once your shitty exes name, now turned into a piece of true art.
“so what d’you think?” he asks, and you didn’t even notice him coming to stand behind you until you felt his breath on the back of your neck, “this shit is hot right?”
“you can say that again,” you agree, keeping your eyes focused on the tattoo, trying to ignore the quickening of your heart beat at the presence of him, “this is really great though, like i couldn’t imagine my ass could look this good after having that tattooed on on it all his time.”
“well no need to imagine anymore,” geto’s face forms a smiling grin, you can tell he was admiring way more than just his artwork, “you mind if i take a picture… for my instagram?” he says, barely asking as his phone is already out of his pocket and is in his hands, he looks up at you for permission and you give a slight nod before he’s snapping away at your ass.
“are you sure this is for your instagram,” you tease, as he continues to take photos crouched down, as he circles your ass with his phone, “or is this just for your personal wank bank?”
“would you like it to be?” he retorts back swiftly, there wasn’t even any mischief in his eyes as he looks up at you, just pure lust.
“um i–” you stutter, only now feeling exposed — as if he hadn’t been working on your ass already for the past six hours.
“don’t get shy on me now,” he coos, standing up to face you head on, “y’gonna let me finish off making you forget that ex or yours or what?”
“be my guest,” you respond, trying to come across as nonchalant, but the eager look in your eyes gave geto all he needed to know.
he pushes you softly, as he commands, “hands against the mirror and spread your legs.” and you do just that, as he comes behind you, fitting in between your legs perfectly. his hand forces ur back down, deeping the arch of your spine before both of his hands grab onto your ass.
geto really rubs and digs his thumbs into your cheeks, biting his lip at the sight at the way his fingers mould into your ass. “fuckk man,” he groans out, he’s not even in you yet and he was already obsessed with every inch of you.
he frees his dick from his pants, and pumps it quickly before sliding it across your already gushing slit. you hiss at the contact, a pleased smile working its way on your face as the tip of his dick edges into you.
“s-shit,” you stammer, as he inches himself into you deeper, “w-what about the rest of the shop?”
“what about them?” he shrugs, “you don’t want them to hear naught you’re being right now? HEY GUYS—”
“oi,” you hiss out, your eyes widening as you turn your head to look directly at him.
“i’m just playing, i’m not ready to share you quite just yet,” he retorts, his dick moving in you at an achingly slow pace, “now, keep your eyes focused on the mirror, and you better not let those hands slip.”
before you can respond, he thrust his hips into you as deep as he could, his dick slamming into you. you moan out at the surprising force, trying your best to keep your palms flat on the surface of the mirror, as you stare straight at him — watching how he works his hands from your ass to your hips so he can drive into you with all of his force.
“this pussy is s-so fucking good,” he praises, the sloppiness of your cunt making it easy for him to slide his dick in and out of you. “oh and this ass,” he continues giving a hard spank on your ass cheek, to emphasise his point, “c’mon throw your ass back on my dick, i wanna see it bounce.”
you fuck him back, doing exactly as he says, your ass meeting his hips with the same amount of force. his spanks encourage you to be quicker, to give him everything he wants. his repeating, strong strokes, have you feeling weaker, your hands slipping as you try to stay up right, when all you want to do is collapse and cum everywhere.
“f-fuckk it’s too much,” you whine, as he drills into you.
“nah,” he says, shrugging his head, “it’s not enough,” he lifts up his legs, his digits pressing into your deeper, as he now angles his strokes even further into your pussy, hitting your spot with ease. “give it to me harder, i know you can” he encourages, another two swift spanks landing on your ass.
with his continuous contact of your ass and his hips, and the way his dick pushes into you deeper, you felt like you were splitting in two. but you kept going, thinking back to your earlier conversation, you didn’t want to prove him wrong, you wanted to show him that you can handle it, handle him.
geto was practically beaming, licking his lips feverishly at the sight of your fucked out face through the mirror as he watches himself plough into you, your body rocking forward with every thrust. his eyes concentrate on your ass, as he says, “d’you see how your rocking my work on you now?” and you nod dumbly, too busy trying to reach your climax to string a sentence together, “so fuck that ex of yours and his shitty ass tattooing, from now on you only can me on your body, you got that?” he asks and you nod again, but he shakes his head, his hand moving from your waist to your chin as he grips it making your eyes stay locked on his through the mirror, “i said do you got that?”
“ahhh s-shit yet i do, i do,” you say, mirroring his words, “i will only have you on my body, ‘promise.”
“good girl,” he approves, giving your chin a squeeze before letting go, “now cum.”
with those simple words, you release all over him, your stance getting weaker, as you shoot out cum all over his dick. he’s quick to pull out of you though, stroking his dick as he sprays his cum all over your ass, with a deep groan.
your hands are still on the wall, as you take deep breaths, trying to recollect yourself. but you turn around swiftly seeing a flash of a camera behind you, and geto is back to crouching down, with his phone out, taking pictures of your cum covered ass.
“you mind if i keep these in my wank bank forreal this time?” he asks, smirking as you nod, “i’ll take some more later, but i got two questions to ask.”
“and those are…” you say, prompting him to continue.
“first, let me take you out after this?” he asks with a smirk, already knowing the answer. after the way he just dicked you down, you’d be a fool not to let him wine and dine you, “second, y’gonna come suffocate my face with that ass of yours or not?” you couldn’t even answer the second question since he’s pulling you down to the floor with him, with a joyous grin on his face.
AN: IGNORE THE FACT THAT HE CUMS ALL OVER UR FRESH TATTOO. LIKE JUST IGNORE IT. just focus on the fact that you have a lovely ass and geto loves it too. but yes do you want to see more, I HAVE ENOUGH IDEAS TO EVEN MAKE A LIL MASTERLIST FOR IT. I love tattoo artist boyfriend!geto so so much, like when u guys become an established relationship it actually gets so good. BUT I DONT REALLY LIKE THIS ONE, BUT IF U GUYS FW IT I PROMISE ILL ACTUALLY WRITE AND POST THE ONES I LOVE. BUT I FELT LIKE I HAD TO WRITE THIS FIRST SO YOU COULD SEE HOW U AND GETO STARTED. LMK UR THOUGHTS
you were in his lap, kissing his neck. his long rough callouses hands holding your hips as he tilted his head back. he let out a guttural moan as he shut his eyes closed when you kissed a sweet spot.
your hips involuntarily moved rolling against his groin, you blushed. “..s-sorry” your voice muffled in between kisses as you said flustered. he groaned “..idiot.” you chuckled suddenly his hips jerked in the direction of your pussy, making sure his hard member pressed against your clothed aching pussy.
”o-oh! k-katsukiiii..” you mumbled blushing, “keep it quiet-dumbass.” his hands squishing your thighs, “..m-mmph” “..stupidly pretty” he gruffed seeing you flustered and a mess. “..is this still okay..” you mumbled blushing, you and katsuki weren’t exactly intimate..
“idiot. i wouldn’t let this happen if it wasn’t..” he scoffed, “..o-oh yeah..” you murmured silently as he dry-humped you
you physically couldn’t stop making noises-you’ve never been like this ever.. “..katsuki..” you whined “hm-what?” he said while groaning “..this feels good” “..obviously stupid.”
“-but keep making those pretty sounds.”
★ thinking about nanami who, contrary to popular belief, is completely oblivious to just how big his dick is.
because this is a man who rarely ever watches porn due to him finding the performances highly overdramatized, so he hasn’t really had the chance to compare his size to other men. and while he’s by no means a virgin, he’s always assumed that the women who have told him he’s ‘big’ were just aiming to flatter him — his mother raised him to be humble, after all.
but it’s not until he gets you (the sweet girl he’s been seeing for the past few months) into his bed that it dawns on him that he might be a little… larger than average, to say the least.
“k-kento— ‘s not gonna fit,” you whine pitifully beneath him, fat tears beading along your lower lashes as you squirm against the mattress. “‘m sorry but... i-i don’t think i can take it all.”
and nanami can do nothing but gape at how giant his cock suddenly seems in comparison to your little fluttering hole, his angry reddened tip trying (and failing) to slowly push past the first ring of resistance inside your spongy walls.
“o-oh, sweetheart,” he rasps out, adam’s apple bobbing harshly as he swallows down the thick lump that seems to have arisen in his throat. “i’m sure we can make it fit, no? just… just try ‘n relax a little more for me.”
“i’ve been trying to relax this whole time,” you hiccup, trembling hands pawing at his bulky arms positioned either side of your head as he peers down at you sympathetically. “you’re just too b-big, ken.”
he exhales deeply, leaning down to press a tender kiss to the corner of your mouth as a form of apology for what he’s about to do— before swiftly using all of the strength in his lower body to thrust every inch of him inside in one go.
and you’re squealing, nails no doubt leaving crescent-shaped indents in the skin of his muscular biceps as you thrash against the sheets, desperately trying to adjust to the feeling of being so completely and utterly full, your poor cunt practically being split in two to accommodate the sheer size of him.
“christ— ah, there we go,” he grunts, sweaty strands of blonde hair falling over his forehead as he forces himself to stay completely still above you, allowing you ample time to get as comfortable as possible. “see, darling? i told you we’d make it fit.”
but nanami can’t bear the idea of you struggling this much every time the two of you are intimate, so he comes to the conclusion that he’ll just have to make sure that by the end of the night, your insides are moulded to the exact shape of his cock.
that way it won’t be such a difficult fit next time, right?