#body scrub ball

[desirablesecretsworld]

Exfoliating scrub balls are made with natural sugar and are the perfect remedy for when your skin needs a good exfoliation and a deep cleanse to restore a healthy glow.

[marsixm]

i have taken hour long showers (sometimes even longer) before but its always been due to either severe panic attacks or severe migraines like i need the heat and stimulation to calm down/let the pain subside. that was the extreme end though usually (even for a migraine) itll maybe be 30 mins, and at this point if i stay in there that long i’ll have a bizarre allergic reaction

[suguann]

Ex-husband!Gojo who doesn’t understand that the parents (mostly the moms who try to hide behind their giant sunglasses) at Mio’s soccer games talk, and he chooses today to pull you into his lap. Several sideways glances cast your way at how cozy you both must look as you watch your four-year-old daughter run in the wrong direction across the field because she got distracted by a butterfly.

He doesn’t hear what they talk about—aren’t they divorced? I’ve never seen anyone divorced act like that—or (worse) when they try to be subtle about their probing into Satoru’s dating life while you stand there with a stilted smile plastered onto your face. 

(More than likely, he’s listened to every word and doesn’t give it the same amount of thought or care as you do.)

“Gojo,” you hiss, trying to move off his lap to no avail. “I have my own chair.”

“Can you still call me that if it’s your name too?”

A huff. “Go bother somebody else—”

“Shh,” he tells you, tugging you further against his chest. “You’re missing the game. Mio’s finally found her way back onto the field again.”

“But everyone’s staring at us.” You catch the eye of a mother tearing into a pack of fruit snacks.

“So? Let them stare.”

Everyone starts cheering, and you both watch Mio chase the ball down the field, her little body ducking between the taller kids. 

“That’s my girl!” Gojo shouts over the other parents.    

And then Mio kicks the ball into— 

The wrong goal.

“Maybe we should have let her join t-ball,” you whisper, though you both clap as your daughter starts doing not-quite cartwheels in the middle of the field.

Ex-husband!Gojo who still does work around the house every Friday, and to your dismay, shirtless now that the weather is warmer.

The plate in your hands has a few scuffs, half of a cartoon character’s face scrubbed off to oblivion that Mio will have something to say about later. Doing everything to stop from staring out into the yard where he’s mowing the lawn because the window is right there, above the sink, to tempt you.

It’s difficult when his chest glistens with sweat from the early-summer heat and how those stupid gray cotton shorts (that you know he picked out with the sole purpose of torturing you) sit dangerously low on his hips— 

He looks towards the kitchen window, a crooked smile stretching across his lips. The blood rushing to your brain, that must be what makes you give a sudsy wave and cause heat to creep into your middle.

Ex-husband!Gojo who strolls into your room while you’re putting away laundry one afternoon, and unsurprisingly shirtless as he crowds you against the dresser. Front to back. His mouth at your ear.

That steady resolve you pride yourself in crumbles at your feet, and you swallow the tiny, helpless sound working its way up your throat. A slippery thing that slips out. “Satoru…”

“You know, these little shorts were always my favorite,” he tells you, his fingers playing with the elastic waistband.

“Were they?”

“Don’t you remember? Couldn’t get them out of the way fast enough.”

Your mouth is dry, something playing in a loop in the back of your brain. Early morning, breakfast cooling on the stove, crumbs stuck to your cheek, these shorts dangling off the leg propped up on the counter—

“Where’s Mio?”

A kiss to your nape, a knowing smile. “Taking a nap.”

Ex-husband!Gojo who works your shorts and underwear off your legs before pulling you to the edge of the bed. 

“Satoru, we—we can’t keep doing this—”

Your words trail off into a moan when he slaps your clit with the leaky tip of his cock, and wet sounds echo in the room.

“Yeah? Go on, baby,” he tells you, slowly splitting you open, stuffing you full, two puzzle pieces slotting perfectly into place like it should be (how it’s always been). “Tell me some more why we can’t keep doing this.” 

You can’t, not with how he’s filling you up in the way only he knows how. Not when he hooks two thick fingers into your mouth because you’re getting too loud, pinning you against the bed with your cheek buried into your pillow, every sound choking into nothing.

You wriggle underneath him, fingers clawing at the comforter and your back arching.

“Christ, look at you,” he growls, leaning over you, teeth bared. “Fucking look at you. You needed this, didn’t you?”

Ex-husband!Gojo who presses what leaks out back inside you with his thumb after he pulls out, wet and sticky circles between your legs until you fall apart again with a soft cry. His thumb is there again, at your entrance, pushing and stopping like a plug, muttering something under his breath that sounds like, “Can’t waste it.” 

And quieter, “Maybe it’ll take.”

(Who knows?

Maybe it will. Worse things have happened.)

Ex-husband!Gojo who stays for dinner for the fourth time that week, and none of the reasons have been because Mio asked if he could. It’s more about the fact that you’ve enjoyed how whole your family feels again, that you can pretend for a moment this is what you do every night.

(How it was probably always going to come back to this.) 

That your wedding ring doesn’t sit in the back of your sock drawer, and his isn’t tucked away in his wallet. That you don’t feel guilty when you think about saying I love you or wishing he’d stay longer—

“Daddy, you gonna lose,” Mio tells Satoru as Mario Kart appears on the screen.

“We’ll see,” he laughs, tugging on one of her pigtails until she’s giggling and swatting his hand away.

You lean back against the couch, watching them with a small smile you share with Satoru over your daughter’s head.

[frogchiro]

Nghh @justadeadreaper and I have been cooking and he inspired me to write this so you guys can thank him!

Goddess reader who is taking a nice warm milk bath in her temple, just lazy and unbothered on a warm summer evening. The day has been slow as of now, not many people came to the temple today and even the cats that roam the temple grounds along with the maidens that take care of it were mostly lazing around in the warm sun or playing in the natural ponds that spread all over the grounds.

Imagine that you're just relaxing in the warm bath, no worries and no ailments when suddenly it's all ruined by König, your most devoted follower, who burst in through the dainty doors and ruins the calm ambience with his clanking armor and rude roar of arrival :/

And he's...dirty. He's bloodied, smelly and looks like one of those barbarians straight from the forest you've heard your followers talk about. Well, technically he IS one but he's a warrior of the people, one of the protectors of the village and a decorated war veteran. König is considered old already, in his 40's, but he's still as much bloodthirsty and ready for a fight and full of vigor like a young buck.

But the thing that just burst down your door isn't a young buck; it's a proud stallion right from the battlefield who came out victorious and he's still full of testosterone from the fighting in your honor, now it came time for a reward, namely fucking and showing his lovely goddess his prowess and proclaim his undying love and devotion for you...But he was dirty :(

König was already dropping his bloodies armor and clothes all over the pristine marble floor, already talking excitedly about all the kills he got, how he tore off the head of the chief and he even brought it with him to show you and-

And you stop him right there right before he could make a dive into your warm and clean milky bath; where does he think he's going? And poor König looks all confused and upset because why is his little goddess whining at him? Why are you refusing to let him join you?? Did he displease you in any way? :(

But you keep whining at him that he's dirty, he's smelly and he has no business in warm, clean milk water; what he needs is a hard scrub with scented bath oils to get rid of the grime and stench of blood and dirt, only then will he be allowed anywhere near you.

Imagine how pathetic König would get; all whiny with his huge boyish eyes looking at you. But he's so pent up and happy to return to you! His cock has been straining even during the battle due to the adrenaline, but afterwards he got horny while thinking about you, your sweet breasts, your soft, curvy body and soft skin; he promises he hasn't jerked off even once! He kept it all in just for you! His balls are all full and hanging low with potent seed, please let him offer it to you </3

[oceane4loveu]

VICTORIA SECRET ANGEL ULTIMATE GLOW UP🩰

LONGER LASHES🎀

-USE CASTER/COCONUT OIL TO YOUR LASHES BEFORE BED

-MASSAGE YOUR EYELIDS TO STIMULATE GROWTH

-AVOID EYELASH CURLERS INSTEAD USE YOUR FINGERS

-USE COLD GREEN TEA TO YOUR EYELASHES WITH A COTTON BALL

-AVOID MAKEUP WIPES INSTEAD USE A BALM/OIL, MELTING SPRAY, OR MICELLAR WATER

WHITE TEETH☁️

-USE CREST WHITENING STRIPS

-TAKE A SPOONFUL OF COCONUT OIL FOR 10- 20 MINUTES

-USE A WHITENING MOUTHWASH

-START USING A WHITENING PEN

-BRUSH YOUR TEETH WITH BAKING SODA AND HYDROGEN PEROXIDE 3X A WEEK

-USE A CREST WHITENING TOOTHPASTE

SMOOTHER SKIN 🫧

-NEVER DRY SHAVE!!!

-USE A DRY BRUSH PR AN EXFOLIATE ROCK TO REMOVE DEAD SKIN

-PUT PLASTIC WRAP OVER VASELINE ON YOUR SKIN AND LEAVE IT ON FOR AN HOUR

-START USING BODY OIL AND BODY BUTTER AFTER A SHOWER

-USE A MENS RAZOR FOR A CLOSER SHAVE

-MAINTAIN A HEALTHY AND CONSISTENT DIET

-START USING SUGAR SCRUBS IN THE SHOWER

HEALTHY HAIR 🧺

-RESEARCH YOUR HAIR TYPE TO FIND THE BEST PRODUCTS FOR YOU

-START USING A SILK PILLOWCASE

-AVOID APPLYING HEAT TO YOUR HAIR

-STOP GOING TO SLEEP WITH WET HAIR

-WASH YOUR HAIR LESS OFTEN

-START USING A HAIR MASK IX A WEEK

-PROTECT YOUR HAIR WHILE SWIMMING

-START TAKING COLD SHOWERS

CLEAR SKIN 🧴

-WASH YOUR PILLOWCASE AND SHEETS EVERY SINGLE WEEK

-CLEAN YOUR MAKEUP BRUSHES ONCE A WEEK

-DRINK 2 LITERS OF WATER EVERYDAY

-INCORPORATE SPF IN YOUR DAILY SKINCARE

-EXFOLIATE 2-3X A WEEK

-AVOID GREASY FOOD IN YOUR DIET

-START ICING YOUR FACE EVERYDAY

-DO NOT FALL ASLEEP IN YOUR MAKEUP

-WASH YOUR FACE BEFORE/AFTER YOU WORK OUT

-RESEARCH YOUR SKIN TYPE

[suntoru]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ “YOU… CAN’T WALK?” *ੈ✩‧₊˚

summary: after a night of… suspicious activities, you find that your body is rendered useless!! how does your boyfriend react??

feat. diluc ragnvindr, kaeya alberich, childe, kazuha kaedehara, scaramouche, xiao, ayato, al-haitham, kaveh

a/n: blue balled </3

warnings: heavily suggestive however no explicit smut, minors get tf out /lh <33, innuendos, fluff, mentions of “girlie” in childe’s, basically after aftercare

─ ✰ DILUC is highkey embarrassed about not being able to resist his urges, so much so that you’re in pain because of him. he apologizes profusely and is so guilty that he hurt you 😭😭 you’ll have to reassure him that you’re alright, but that you just need some extra help getting around today or for the next week. he’ll be your majestic horse for as long as you need him to. need to go to the bathroom? he’ll carry you to and from, waiting for you to be done outside of the door. hungry? he’s already got adelinde cooking something up for you. thirsty? he just bought thirty different flavours of herbal tea. he treats all the love bites he’s given you and iced the bruises on your legs, looking up for your reaction each time. a friend of yours asked why your legs were so shaky and you couldn’t walk, and his face exploded into a bright shade of red, making it obvious that your… nighttime activities were the cause.

─ ✰ KAEYA’S your knight in shining armour, although sometimes you may want to smack his head. oh, he’ll help you alright, but at the cost of your dignity. he’s carrying you bridal-style in his arms, which may sound wholesome, but the things he’s whispering in your ear are clearly not. turning bright red, you nuzzle your head further in his chest to prevent him from looking at you. cute. he chuckles at your reaction, pressing a soft kiss to your head before gently placing you in the bath. the warm water helps your muscles relax more, easing up the tension from your legs. you sigh in relief, sinking further into the bathtub as he scrubs the soap out of your hair. you shiver when he blows over your hickeys, deliberately trying to rile you up. this time, you won’t give him what he wants, though. you flip over on your side, turning away from him with what little self-respect you have left. but it all leaves your body when he leans in closer. “easy there princess, being a brat is what got you here in the first place.”

─ ✰ CHILDE, quite like his name suggests, is a literal child. you thought kaeya was bad? well, this giant man baby wants you to flaunt off your hickeys and bruises to the whole world, he wants everyone to know you’re his and his alone. his teasing is x10000 times stronger than normal, he has no basic decency 💀💀 will make you ask for his help to inflate his ego, at this point just get up and leave </3 when you try to angrily glare at him, it comes off as more of a sad pout, so he caves and scoops you up in his arms like a kid. “aww, is my favourite baby coochie coo girlie okay? don’t worry, daddy’s here-” please smack the living shit out of him, if you don’t he’ll continue to baby and coo at you for the rest of the day. don’t even try to complain to him about the marks, he’ll just add more until he’s satisfied 😬 oh, and one last piece of advice? don’t let him see you in his shirt unless you’re looking to get wrecked (again), he’ll go absolutely feral.

─ ✰ KAZUHA, let’s be real, would be so soft and loving that you wouldn’t have any bruises and i stand this with my life 😤 but for the purpose of the plot, let’s pretend he did. out of everyone, he’s the most delicate with you. he’s so gentle and careful carrying you like you could break at any moment, whispering one of his poems quietly and humming underneath his breath. if you’re hungry, he makes his specialty dish, spoon feeds you everything, even tipping the water cup up so you can drink from it. he gives you so much love and reassurance it makes your heart absolutely melt 🥺🥺 he kisses each mark he made on your body, whispering “beautiful” each time :,) a tear slips by your eye, never has anyone treated you with such care before him. he wipes it away and pulls you close, making sure not to hurt you accidentally, and utters endless sweet nothings. in his eyes, you are a perfect creation, and he can’t thank the heavens enough that you are his. his muse, his love, forever <3.

─ ✰ SCARAMOUCHE, this bitch, thinks you’re being dramatic when you say in a scratchy voice that you can’t walk. he tells you to just get over it, and when you get pissed and try to walk away from him, your legs fail you and you brace yourself for the impact, but it never comes. his arms are hooked above yours, effectively saving you from crashing down and causing further damage. you angrily yank your arm back, telling him to leave, but he only pulls you up closer into his arms. he wraps your legs around his hips as he holds your waist, cursing something under his breath. he places you onto the couch as you turn away from him in a huff. “are you just going to ignore me?” silence. “fine. be like that then.” silence again. “…i’m …sorry. i didn’t mean it.” you turn back around, and he’s squatting on the ground with his head twisted so you can’t see his face. he moves away quickly, flustered by your gaze, and leaves the room for a minute. when he comes back, he’s holding some warm tea for your throat. needless to say, he pampers you for the rest of the day.

─ ✰ XIAO thinks you’re seriously ill when you almost tumble out of bed and land smack dab on the floor. you’ll have to explain to him why your legs aren’t exactly working, and when he does… flustered beyond relief. when he takes a closer look at you, he notices your body is full of love marks and bruises around your thighs. in the moment, he may have forgotten how fragile humans could be. he thinks he’s broken you, and he’s genuinely concerned for you 💀 you might have to direct him on how to help you, but once he gets the hang of it, he’ll do the best he can. unlike how he wields his spear, he’s delicate and graceful. he might be rough around the edges, but he’s trying, and you don’t have the heart to tell him that you don’t need him to carry you for the rest of your life, not when he cocks his head and looks at you questioningly when you don’t climb on his back. as an apology for temporarily immobilizing you, he brings you a qingxing flower and shares his almond tofu with you. honestly, what more could you ask for 😻?

─ ✰ AYATO is actual husband material <33 he’s already prepared for this for some reason 🤨 as soon as you wake up, any punishments you may have received have been treated and wrapped up carefully. a fresh pitcher of water is there for you, and by the looks of it, a bath is running. but none of it interests you if ayato isn’t there with you. carefully, with the help of thoma, you are able to wobble to the room ayato is in, concentrated on his paperwork. hobbling towards him, he pushes his chair back so you can sit on his lap. pressing a kiss to your cheek, he brushes the hair out of your face, “darling, you should be resting. i ran a bath for you, is everything okay? are you sore anywhere?” “can you come join me? please?” you beg, putting on the cutest pout you can manage. “if you can wait ten minutes until i’m done.” internally, you sigh, but you patiently sit on his lap and wait until he’s finished. ah, but don’t worry, the reward is definitely worth it. he kneads through all the sore spots, applies all your skincare, and changes your clothes. later, you do matching face masks 💗

─ ✰ AL-HAITHAM was probably prepared for this, he read hundreds of books about human reproduction 💀 he notes all the side effects you seem to have: a scratchy throat, unstable legs, exhaustion… he saves it for the next time you have… physical activities. he remembers an article he read on how to take care of your significant other after intercourse, and follows that. he makes homemade soup to soothe your throat, which he watches over you as you drink. he also forces you to take naps, he’ll read “the control politicians have over our daily lives” just to make you fall asleep. he’ll get your groceries, take out your trash, and do your work so you can focus on relaxing, all with a stoic face. if anyone asks him where you are, he’ll just give an obvious lie with a straight face 💀💀 “y/n is out collecting a census right now.” “but they told me they were sick?” normally his lies are flawless, but when it’s about you… his mind doesn’t function properly. but if you absolutely need to get somewhere, you’re going to have to ask him. last time, he locked kaveh out of the dorm for 48 hours for helping you get a book from the library because he fell asleep 💀

─ ✰ KAVEH’S face is the first thing you see when you wake up. jumpscare warning sir he’s hovering over you, observing your face. immediately after he sees that you are awake comes the barrage of questions. “my love, are you all right? i wasn’t too rough, was i?” he’s such a simp i could never see him being rough he dramatically gasps when he sees your shaky legs, pretending to be shocked, but he’s slightly happy that this means you’ll have to cling onto him for the whole day. but oh my, both of you still have work!! whatever shall you do? it seems like the only solution is for him to take you everywhere… he proudly parades you around the akademiya, much to the embarrassment of you. but there’s nothing you can really do, not when you can’t run away, so you bury your head in his back to avoid the judging gazes of the other scholars. kaveh shoots a smug grin to an uncaring al haitham, who probably knows and heard everything from last night💀💀

©hawkssimpsblog 2023. do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works on any platform.

[kingkatsuki]

Thinking about Bakugou who hates when you shower after sex. Because to him it feels like you’re washing the scent of him off your skin, and wasting the copious amounts of spunk that now disappear down the drain. Cleaning your body with that expensive body scrub that has him going insane as he watches you clean away every bit of evidence that he was balls deep inside you barely ten minutes ago. If he had it his way you’d keep his cum buried deep inside you, clinging to your silky walls as a reminder that every inch of you is his. Your body doused in the lingering scent of his cologne, sweat and his quirk to ensure that if anyone dared to get too close they’d know exactly what it meant.

Which is why Bakugou loves when you use his deodorant, shampoo, shower gel or creams because it means you’ll smell like him for the rest of the day. Silently letting everyone know that you belong to him without having to say a word, the scent of him lingering on your skin as a deadly reminder to anyone that you have a man at home.

He’ll never admit to hiding your products, or dousing his own body in a little too much of your fruity body scrub or vanilla cream after a shower. Not that he minds, he loves the scent of you lingering on his skin too— just enough to have his cock half mast as he wraps a palm doused with your fruity shower gel around his length.

Hearing you shout at him from the bedroom when you’ve just waddled into the bathroom after sex that— “it’s so expensive Katsuki, you used all of it!” So now you have no choice but to use his instead. Picking up your deodorant to put it into his gym bag before you notice so you’re forced to spray yourself with his musky scent.

Offering to help cream your soft body when you step out of the shower dressed in nothing but a fluffy towel, perching your foot on his thigh so he can caress his cream into your skin. Peppering apologetic kisses against your skin as he promises to buy you more, while simultaneously breathing in the scent of him mixed with you.

But that doesn’t mean Bakugou is any better— Bakugou loves being surrounded in the scent of you too.

You’ve lost count of the number of times he’s returned home battered and bruised, covered in a thick layer of sweat and grime as he begs you to run him a bath— because somehow your baths are always better than his. Coaxing you into the tub behind him as he surrounds himself in the scent of you.

He’s shameless after sex, refusing to shower as he watches you disappear into the bathroom, wanting to keep the lingering scent of you stuck to his skin for as long as possible. Only joining you in the shower when the thought of you naked, wet and soapy is too much to bear.

He doesn’t even care when he pulls out a bottle of your fruity gels at the agency when he takes a long shower, listening to his friends and sidekicks mocking him for using such ‘girly’ products. Because how could he care when he smells like you.

[yanderenightmare]

Zenin Naoya

♡ TW: NSFW, dubcon/noncon, prostitution, jealousy, possession, murder of nameless characters

♡ fem reader

Naoya would fall hard for his favorite brothel whore…

You always receive him with a gracious smile – long lashes shadowing an alluring pair of dark eyes, touching him so smoothly as you guide him to his usual room, always with dulcet words whispered seductively in his ear – all pretty nothings you know he wants to hear.

You let him get as rough as he wants without fighting back. Calling his name like a prayer – moaning with your throat when he fists your hair, fucking you hard on your hands and knees – branding your ass with his handprint.

You’re such a good girl – listening to his every command with a pretty smile. 

You may not be the most decent – but he can’t say he has much appetite for modest women. While having to spend his day being introduced to a dozen potential wives – he’ll always be thinking of visiting you instead. Wanting your red-painted lips wrapped around his cock and your smokey eyes looking up at him – to bite those pink circles on your cheeks and fuck you until your lashes run in black streaks down your dewy face – all while moaning out for him.

Suppose he could purchase you… turn you into a maid… and maybe in a couple of years of reforming, you’d be eligible enough to wed. 

You wouldn’t look too out of place on your hands and knees scrubbing the floors or tilling the gardens, all sweaty from the labor – though, it would be strange to see you all covered up in the thick layers of a yukata and not the thin kimono you so easily let drop to the floor as soon as he enters through the door to the establishment.

He wonders if there are many others you let fuck you like him. Sometimes, he’ll spot a mark on your body he’s not entirely sure he left there. But you don’t kiss and tell – never one to allow sore words to leave your lips, even when he proposes to kill all your other visitors. You just give him that gracious smile, letting him hold you close on his lap with his head on your chest – wading through his hair with your long nails, petting him as he pouts. 

He becomes like a baby boy in his mother’s bosom when coming down after emptying his balls inside you – all clingy and cuddly with you. Childish fantasies leaving his tongue in murmurs pressed against your skin – how he’s going to take you away from this place, make you his housewife, keep you all to himself in his bed.

But then he goes back to himself – gets dressed, pays your madam, then leaves.

He’ll often pay for you to be free at those times of the day when he knows he’s free to come visit you. But sometimes he’ll come unprompted only for you to be busy with another.

He doesn’t remember when he started waiting outside for them. But it’s been so long that he no longer bothers washing the blood from his hands before he comes in to see you.

♡ ZENIN NAOYA masterlist ♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist

[anantaru]

BITTERSWEET TASTE

— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — being in the knights of favonius came with its own responsibilities, yet why was it so unbelievably difficult for kaeya to get up in the morning when you‘re laying next to him all pretty and riled up?

— ꒰ word count ꒱ — 3.1k

— ꒰ a/n ꒱ — decided to repost this hidden fic, enjoy <3

— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ns]fw, fem! reader, prone bone, fingering, morning sex, morning wood, biting, he cums in you, basically kaeya doesn't want to go to work <3

there was a pearly glow in the morning sky with the first of many rays of sunlight casting a rosy hue up the bedroom, prickling on kaeya's bronzed skin.

fluttering his eyelashes open for the first time post slumber, he scrubbed his face with his hands as to try to wipe away the tiredness that was still viewable on his handsome features. He yawned, stretching his broad body, tilting his neck left and right.

if only he didn't have to work today, he thoughts to himself, fighting off his laziness and huffing out dramatically.

naturally, ever since the grandmaster left for an important expedition, kaeya had to work more than usual, do stuff he in any other circumstances wouldn't have to bother to even bat an eye over.

of course, with the entire cavalry gone, one would think that the cavalry captain himself wouldn't have to particularly do much, yet he still had to aid the knights with various tasks as they were short in staff.

a low sigh escaped him and his heart bubbled with swells of delight upon taking in the look of his sleeping beauty curved up into a ball, your breathing tranquil with your eyes scrunched together.

how can someone be so cute and beautiful? while also infecting him with blissful joy.

leaving nothing to the imagination, his mind froze with his body feeling light, as if he wasn't entirely there yet, wandering his piercing gaze over your heaving figure, drinking in your peacefulness.

he tried to decipher on how he managed to end up so lucky, how it was him, of all people, who captured your heart.

on further analysis, he focused and crossed his vision over you, his breathing slowing down. He caught a glimpse of your white panties nudged out of your sleep shirt, the fabric was flimsy and was barely able to keep everything hidden and tugged away, the outline of your puffy folds poked out just slightly and watered his mouth on sight.

next, kaeya heavily settled his hands on your hips and pulled you closer into his embrace, he was still very much tired and exhausted, the thought about him having to leave for work in a bit was annoying, straight up mind shattering, a frustrated growl tingling in his throat.

cocking his head in the nook of your soft neck, kaeya took in your scent, so familiar and soothing, kissing the thin flesh under your ear. The strokes of his rough lips on you ultimately stirred you from your sleep, a dizzying sense of pleasure crawling over your shoulders.

"kaeya?" your voice was whispery and barely there, laced in with a raspy undertone when you cradled your head to the side, meeting his hooded eyes. "morning, beautiful."

you couldn't help yourself but roll your eyes at him, such tease, your brows crinkling at the corners as a peel of laughter echoed in the large room. With your hand, you removed the navy blue hair strands that covered your boyfriends handsome face, stilling your palm on his warm cheek and brushing your thumb over his lower lip.

"don't you have to work?"

"hmm." nuzzling himself into you, he continued, "how awful would i be if i don't?" kaeya crossed his arms around you with the plush of your behind pressed against his member, your eyes growing to the size of saucers upon realizing how riled up he had gotten.

"jean won't be happy if you're late." attempting to disturb him from his little fantasy, he set off the heavy erection in his pants, gently rutting itself within your softness, his rough tongue eagerly dragging over your neck and biting down the wet spot, ultimately forgetting about your words, as if he didn't perceive them in the first place.

"foul play!" he feigned a dramatic, teasing tone, "but this isn't about jean right now."

his hips bucked up yet again, this time unconsciously before one of his hands wandered towards your stomach, hooking his fingers into the elastic of your panties to pull them down in a single motion. Your breath was trembling with a sweet squeak robbed out of your mouth, melting into his warmth with your eyes closed.

his hand disappeared within your heat, nudging in between your thighs as you spread them a bit to make it easier for him to travel to where you craved it. "only for five minutes kaeya, okay?"

"five minutes, five minutes." he repeated sheepishly, gaping his mouth open and poking out his sharp canines from underneath his upper lip, prancing on your neck, adding his rough tongue up until reaching your earlobe to gingerly suck on it. You whined from his little scheme, noticing your nipples perked up from underneath your shirt and rubbing over the flimsy material as you whined at the first long finger poking at your entrance.

your cheeks grew warm, drizzling hot and your eyes fluttered close to relish in the digit filling you at last, the stretch was barely painful or to be perceived yet still pleasurable. Your insides were twisting and turning around his skillfulness which had kaeya's vision turn blank, jaw dropping loosely before a massive grin heaved on him.

considering on how your moans sounded, how they pooled over his ears like sweet liquid, sugary candy, kaeya figured you were very much sensitive, might be because you had just woken up, carefully wiggling his finger deep into you to wheedle another reaction out from your lips.

"don't hide your sounds from me, don't even dare."

his gorgeous face was behind you, kaeya absolutely despised it when you hid your pleasure from him, your lust and ache, sometimes you even did in on purpose to drive him mad, yet he always made sure to punish his sweet little angel properly afterwards.

"kaeya, it feels good." he was spreading the mess over your folds with every shove into your core, you nodded frantically to signal him how well he did, your head falling back against his neck as he added another finger into the mix, almost immediately pulling it into you and searching for more with his hungry eyes.

this time you stretched further, hole parting, the combination of his middle and ring finger rubbing their rough pads into your velvety walls had you short of breath, nudging your sweet spot. You were rocking side to side as you held each other in a loving clasp, moaning and breathing in sync.

a simple happiness, that's what it was for kaeya, seeing you unravel for him in such a short amount of time, a confident bubble bursting in his belly as he noticed the heavy dent in his boxers, growing, aching and rubbing against the uncomfortable material of his sweat shorts.

kaeya drew in his breath upon noticing your spasming walls, letting go of the air in his lungs with a shiver. He shifted his leg, pressing you closer together and increasing the pace on his hand. Without warning he scissored your sensitive cunt, curling and sending waves of electric thrills throughout your skin.

your eyebrows knitted together in concentration, tightening your jaw as you moaned his name, arching your spine away yet he jerked you back almost immediately, "I'm so close kaeya.. please." your skin was heated, yet the warmth crossing you from deep inside roamed into you in fast spurts, slumping back and forth.

"i want you to cum on my fingers, can you do this for me?" hoarsely voicing his command with authority taking over the room, he shoved his fingers in, thick and wet, delving them into you as you grinding yourself back, meeting his hand halfway through his heavy tugs.

"i‘m gonna cum—" moaning in protest, your sloppy hole suckled down on kaeya‘s slender, skillful digits, clamping your thighs to hold him there when you spasmed, shivering and whining when your orgasm threw itself at you.

kissing and biting your neck he hummed in satisfaction at your tones, your pleas and begs, the vibration he exclaimed was filling you and hit your core in a torrent of electricity.

your hands abruptly clasped onto his wrist to still his movements yet kaeya was chasing your release like a wild beast, finger fucking you through your climax with sloppy noises turning you into an embarrassing mess.

creating friction through his rough way with you, you grabbed him, your mouth opening but nothing came out and throat tightening when you cummed at last with a silent cry of his name, sobbing your words.

pure bliss, that's how kaeya would describe it, his palm glistering with arousal. "now would you look at yourself, what a sight to behold." your mind was a bit off and still wobbly, cradling your head back to look at him through lidded eyes, meeting his lustful ones.

"shut up kaeya, you wanted this." your sassiness was maddening and set his loins on fire, truly delicious. Kaeya pulled out of you, a string of your essence connecting him to your core when he did something that almost brought you on the verge of release again.

pleasantly dizzy, his slick covered fingers found his mouth when he pried the pads past his plump lips, lapping onto his digitd to drink in what you gifted him with, moaning and groaning around his fingers and hollowing his cheeks to suck them dry.

a whisper, a moan, taking itself out on your craving body when you watched in anticipation, now fully awake and completely forgetting that kaeya was very much late for work, not to mention the little '5 minute rule from ealier' was nowhere to be found. The aroma of his scent clasped around you, filling your nostrils and getting you weak in the knees, cradling your senses.

another long inhale, you yanked his hand away and kissed him, hard. Shaking, tantalizing goosebumps bristled on your skin, a sharply edged euphoria playing in your heart upon noticing his fully erected member resting against your thigh, a big wet splotch plastered on the side.

your fingers listened to his silent pleas, traveling down his stomach before cupping his groin, caressing it with your warm palm. You rolled forward, eliciting a groan from your boyfriend when he captured you in another kiss, rutting himself into your hand like a horny beast. "you're so fucking perfect for me." he sputtered, adding his strength on your hips to pull you back abruptly.

kaeya rose up, displaying himself to you as he exposed of his shirt together with his pants and boxers, cock plopping out and standing fully erect. His tip was swollen and rosy, desperate and needy when he beckoned you to turn around, following suit.

you lowered yourself onto the silky, white pillows with your behind perked up, your drenching pussy on full display for him to indulge himself in. Fuck, he wanted to be inside you right now, wanted his cock to be drenched full with filth and lewdness and make love to you.

"five minutes, right?" he taunted you with it, amusement finding him on how you thought you’d be satiated by a mere five minutes.

kaeya couldn't wait any longer, simply draping your shirt up and not giving a single fuck to discard of it completely, your glowing back greeting him. His rough hands branded your shaking skin, a satisfied growl deep in his lungs was leaving him as he got a hold of his stiff erection to drag it in and out of the little tunnel he created with his hand.

"i'm gonna be so late." chuckling to himself and in a way, it sounded as if kaeya was making fun of said fact, butterflies cascading through his stomach at the mere sight of you alone.

of course this was way better than working and fulfilling his duties.

your glistering pussy fluttered around nothing, sobbing and aroused, still mourning the loss of his long fingers when you trapped your lower lip in between your sharp teeth, hiding a moan.

"baby—" you're mewling now, "please don't tease me, i can‘t take it." wiggling yourself back, kaeya couldn't help himself but smirk devilishly, so unbelievably handsome that the sight of it would've made you cum on the spot. "who do you think i am? i'd never!"

pretending to be shocked, he lowered himself, hands pressing on your behind and gripping the plush of your ass, squeezing and wiggling it. An electric pulse went through your bones when he brushed his cockhead within your folds, collecting your filthy essence on his skin and slobbering him wet.

the natural lubricant would come in handy, surely, kaeya was mostly rough with you and in all honesty, you didn't mind, more so did you secretly encourage it whenever he'd claim you like that, whenever he'd show you how much he desired you without actually using any words.

he was perfect, truly, he was broad and thick, pressing himself into you and filling you to the brim, cunt parting in a rough manner you wouldn't want any other way.

every twitch, turn and twist of his cock you could feel, witness and drink in, you cried out whiningly in a breathy way with tears dwelling in your eyes. He draped himself over you, chest flushed on your back and licking a straight line on the back of your neck with his rough tongue, your tiny hairs sticking into the air from convulsing shivers.

"fuck, you're so tight today." his words were lustful and imploring, savoring and distracting you from the slight discomfort of your lower region being practically impaled by him. A string of saliva connected your skin to his lips, he was messy with you, adding spit and drawing it on your neck to continue to suckle and bite the wet flesh, hitting your sweet spot but not moving where you yearned for it the most.

kaeya pushed you back, leaving his tip in and waxing over your reactions, sending a bolt of lightning down your spine upon snapping himself back, roughly and so unbelievably hard that you thought your heart would actually burst out of your chest.

crying his name you moaned in tune with the pace he was settling for, dragging his raw member into your shivering insides and rubbing deliciously on your favorite spots, punctuated thrusts pressing roughly within you.

relentless, that's how he was with you, marking and branding you with his thick cock alone, his heavy balls smacking at your behind and eliciting arousing torment in your core, feeding into your desires when the flirst droplets of tears covered your warm skin, sticking on your cheeks.

large hands tilted your hips up while simultaneously applying pressure on your back to nudge you against the mattress, the new position making it possible for kaeya to dig into you more.

yet in comparison you got tighter, your hole delicate and milking him for all he's worth. Your oversensitive pussy was on its breaking point, drooling and making a mess out of his length, swallowing him whole, as if you were made for him.

"I'm so close-" you sobbed and he growled at your voices, changing the intensity and snaking up one of his skilled hands to your shaking clit, rubbing you fiercely in tune with his hips. "i know baby, i can feel you." your heart erupted, kaeya was delving as deep as he could possibly go, blown pupils directed to where your bodies connected and sloppily drooled over each other.

kaeya believed he was in heaven, more so loving to see you dripping wet of arousal and he was the cause of it! he alone was responsible for your fucked out state, mustering the strength to keep going, rubbing and pinching your clit in between his rough pads.

tearing you forward, you cried out his name in between panting, coaxing him on to go faster, more, you needed more and had to release now.

"I'm gonna fill you up." through gritted teeth, he told you his favorite way to come undone, something about you trusting him this much was catapulting him to cloud nine. His bruising grip overthrew your body, no words were bothered to be voiced by you, far too gone with the ache in your core threatening to break, teetering on edge and so fucking close, you wanted to get there already, your whines laced with frustration.

sore, sweaty and aching you twitched around him, soul smoldering and stinging when you finally cummed hard, each thrust barreling through your body and sending you over the edge, fisting your fingers into the cushions under you while almost ripping them apart.

your toes curled inwards with your skin shaking, jolts of torment and deep pleasure grasped and hid the control of your body from you, leaving you to kaeya with your sensitivity. How hot your body became, igniting flames in you and bursting the sweet bubble in your belly, the one that sent you spiralling into desire and bliss.

he flattened his hips on you, stilling himself when he came in a broken groan. Kaeya shifted his weight up in a much more convenient angle so he wouldn't suddenly crush you or collapse on top of you from the intense orgasm.

"fuck, that's it baby, that's it." his thumbs buried into your hips, pouring his sweet cum in you and archons, did he cum a lot, it was quilling over and sobbing down your aching hole, staining your thighs together with his pelvis.

he slid his cock out before greedily swatting it back in, moaning in tandem and feeling the residue of your orgasm wash over. He sunk in on you as though overwhelmed he twitched yet again, eyes pointing towards the filth in your legs. Your entire body tightened and his groans sliced you up, how blunt and raw they sounded, how shameless and unbelievably hot.

"fuck, what a mess i made." he heaved out a satisfied sigh, grinning and laughing wildly, casting a gentle shadow on you.

turning your sore body around to face him, you met his gaze, drawing your arms out for him to kiss him. Kaeya chuckled at your adorable teary expression, leaning forward to apply kisses on your lips, swaying you with his charm.

"i don't want to go to work." he painfully admitted to you next, pouty lips pecking your nose, cheeks and going back to your mouth, nibbling on your skin.

"kaeya, you need to go to work." you gently whined at him while still being utterly sensitive.

brushing his bangs away with your fingers, you settled your warm palms on his face and watched him display puppy eyes for a bit, as if he was waiting for you to urge him to stay yet you simply squeezed his cheeks playfully in response.

he huffed out, nudging your nose as he carefully drew himself back with a frutrated sigh. You tilted your head in an irritated manner when your confused eyes followed his body leave the bedroom.

"lets hop in the shower together, i‘m going after i promise."

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

aftercare with miguel o’hara

(18+ minors dni, fem!reader) - filthy start then goes into aftercare

wc || 743

masterlist

was requested here :)

- the good stuff under the cut -

"I know, baby," he coos right under your ear, praising you as he pulls another orgasm out of you. He draws out your fourth release, talking you through it. "I'm almost there, querida. I'm right there," he mutters, his words shaky and breathless as he ruts into you.

His hands are desperate, clasping around your throat and breast like it was the only thing he needed. Ploughing into you urgently, his balls heavy and hard against your ass as he chases his release, insistently fucking you in the way he wants. He spews a few Spanish curses as he pulses inside you, murmuring while erratically twitching, spilling his warm load deep inside. His groans of pleasure are animalistic, deprived even.

He sloppily fucks his come into you, somewhat lazily, staring at the way his arousal leaks from you, drips out of you. He reluctantly drags his softening cock from you, looking at your pussy as he does so. Watching how you'd clasp and clamp around nothing, around his absence, how you'd visibly miss the consuming feeling of his cock buried in you. He reaches over your jolting naked body underneath him, kissing your lips as though it was his way of showing he cares, tenderly working over them to comfort and praise you for being so good to him, thanking you almost. "Cariño," he whispers against your lips, his words warm and tender, much unlike how they were before. "You're so sweaty," he lowly chuckles, pushing the damp hairs around your forehead to the side and placing a sweet, light kiss on the centre of it. "Come on," he whispers, extending a hand.

Miguel is often an enigma to you. How could someone so cold, harsh and mean be so soft, loving and sweet? He's always the latter with you. He would never treat you the same way he treats the others. You were special. You were his. 

He flicks on the water in the shower, and as he waits for it to get hot, he walks back to you, slowly stalking over to you, his softened cock hitting his thigh with every step. His frame is dominating and broody in front of you, but his expressions are delicate and gentle as he cups your cheeks. He gazes into your sweet eyes like you're the most precious and valuable thing, the one sworn thing he wants to protect.  

His big hand laces into yours, warm and gentle as he guides you to the shower, helping you in and following closely after. His hands are back around your face, cupping your jaw as he tilts your head back into the flowing water, being cautious not to push too far back or the water would get in your nose. Sweetly and silently wetting your hair, loosening the sweat from your hairline. "So beautiful," he whispers, watching the water bead around your face. 

He carefully twists you around so that your back is to him, picking up the shampoo bottle from the floor to lather into your hair, scrubbing your scalp with his strong fingers. He rinses and repeats, being mindful not to get the suds in your eyes, treating you like he's aware. Attentively and thoughtfully. He then judiciously combs conditioner through your somewhat matty hair, doing as he's seen you do a hundred times before.

He spins you back to him, smiling at the cute expression on your face, looking at you with nothing but admiration. He pulls your loofah from the hook, squirting your favourite scent of shower gel onto the netted fabric before gently scrubbing over you, cleaning you with a grin on his face, one that matches yours. 

After he washes you, he puts you under the flowing water to keep you warm as he cleans himself, washing his hair and body with eyes glued on yours, gazing at you. He joins you under the shower head shortly after to rinse the suds, kissing you tenderly in between.

Miguel slips from your touch, reaching outside the glass door to retrieve two towels. Turning off the water, he wraps you in the soft fabric, patting you dry before doing the same with himself, draping the towel over his bottom half, exposing his deep v. 

He ushers you to the bedroom, placing one of his t-shirts over you after blotting you dry. He throws on a pair of joggers before turning to face you, his features soft and compassionate, glimmering with charm. "Hungry?"

— — — — — — — — — — ☆ — — — — — — — — — —

[ectologia]

♱ ˖ ࣪࿐ 𝐼𝒩 𝒜 𝑅𝒰𝒯 ؛ 𝓀𝑒𝒾𝑔𝑜 𝓉𝒶𝓀𝒶𝓂𝒾

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 ؛ dubcon ﾉ noncon ﾉ forced breeding ﾉ forced pregnancy ﾉ clit spanking ﾉ creampie ﾉ misogyny ﾉ rut ﾉ baby trapping ﾉ feral keigo ﾉ piss ﾉ marking ﾉ profanity

Keigo’s bigger, softer around the edges but still with that slight cut of pristine muscle lining his torso and limbs. His wings thicken, puffy with a fat down blanketing them with gentle red bristles.

Sweaty too. He doesn’t want to wear any clothes. Granted, he says that all the time. But now it’s not just a want, it’s a need. A priority. He doesn’t feel fit to carry out his primitive desires when he’s being held back and restrained by all that stupid cotton and leather. He needs to be free, needs to let his manhood breathe. Otherwise how could he possibly carry out his responsibility as a daddy? That’s right, he couldn’t.

You leave him to his ludicrous antics of digging out nests in your bed. Making a fine art of curling every blanket, quilt and pillow in the house into a cushty barricaded circle atop your mattress, slapping at the cuddly pile of fabric with an almost crazed look, claiming that your “eggs” are going to be so warm and safe there. Or otherwise scenting you, rubbing his damp neck and hair all over your body, starting off with a gentle kiss to your temple, before sliding down your torso to rub his palms against that little pouch of flesh he knows he’s going to put his babies in, eventually.

Keigo doesn’t like the fact that you still insist on walking around the house fully clothed. He doesn’t, so why do you need to? You’re his mate, his wife, his other half. He knows it’s time to procreate, so why don’t you?

He follows you around the house on another one of your cleaning sprees. His nose wrinkles at the acrid scent of chemicals and lemon in the air, scratching at his throat and burning his sensitive nostrils as you continue to wipe the surfaces and spray away the scent of masculine sweat he worked so hard on drowning the house in. Do you really want another male entering his territory?

There’s only the slightest ring of yellow encircling his otherwise blown pupils. He tunes out after the first 10 seconds of your ranting and scolding. Something about how nobody’s going to “steal you away” if he doesn’t piss on the front door. Yeah, we’ll see about that, he scoffs to nobody but himself, plucking a bent feather from his rugged cape of crimson to flick and mould it back to shape, flicking at the fibrous hairs.

“Keigo, are you even listening to me?” You clap your hands in his face, attempting to garner his attention. “Hello?”

He doesn’t like that one bit, the flailed movements seeming all to similar to an opposing threat, a predator. He blinks away the carnal instinct to rip your arms out of their sockets and puncture your skull with his teeth. “Yes.”

“Well, it doesn’t fucking look like it. Can you repeat any of what I just said?”

“Stop pissing outside.”

“And what else?”

“And on the door.”

Glowing ember’s narrow as you huff, massaging your temples as you begin to pace, stomping about the kitchen with a cloth and spray bottle in hand.

He shudders at the sharp hiss of the pump, spitting at the granite counter and washing away his mark.

“Baby..” He draws closer, wings twitching at the irritating squeak of polished marble. Two large hands, both streaked with thick prominent veins clasp your waist in an attempt to bring your rear closer towards his erect, naked member.

“No, Keigo. Not right now, I’m busy.”

An elbow jabs at his ribs as you continue to scrub away at the surface, leaning over the edge with the pudgy mound of your pussy swaying against his cock and balls with a tantalising momentum.

Before you know it, the bottle is yanked out of your hand and chucked against the wall. The towel clutched between your fingers meets the same fate, ripped in two by a set of talons and left in shreds on the floor.

“Keigo!” You shriek, already pushing against him as he grips you by the neck. “Get off! What’s wrong with you!”

It’s a rhetorical question, and one he has no interest in answering anyway. Too busy with pulling the silk of your pyjama pants down to your toes, along with those stupidly skinny pieces of sheer string you seem to think pass as underwear. He can already see globs of slick bubbling along the apex of your pussy hole. He grins at the sight, running a bent knuckle through the valley of your puffy folds. At least your body knows what it was made for.

“Keigo, stop!” There’s a hint of panic in your voice, squirming as he squeezes the delicate tendons holding your spine in place. Holding you by the scruff as though you were a bad puppy.

He sighs, flecks of spit flying from his mouth in his crazed revolution. His wings extend behind him as he clutches his throbbing shaft in his palm, swirling and bathing the velvety tip in your cunny juice. “I’m sorry, chickadee. But this is just how it is in the real word.” There’s a solemn silence, a heavy seriousness to the air as though he wasn’t rubbing his pulsating slit against your clit, collecting its oozing wetness for an easier turn of events. “You gotta’ take what you want. Gotta’ just fuck it out. Otherwise, we’d go extinct.” He lets out a breathy laugh. “Wouldn’t we, honey bun?”

“Ngh — !” The edge of the counter jabs at your hip bones, rolling on delicate skin that’s sure to be bruised after the ordeal. Your waist bucks as he smacks his swollen tip against your nervous bud.

“Mmh, this is what you wanted.” He repeats the motion, flicking his wrist faster and faster until his spanking becomes rhythmic, slapping the sluggish weight of his member up and down on your pussy. It’s a strategic move on his part, torturing your poor sensitive clitty so you’ll be all that more grateful when he moves on to the main course. “Oh yeah? You like that?” He coos as your back hunches, unsure as to whether you’re trying to curl into the pleasure or away from the pain.

After collecting a sufficient amount of lubrication, he does the same, practically clambering onto the counter with your spine arched in his hands as though he were some type of feral beast or savage hound, hung and ready to fuck and breed his bitch. He squats over your quaking form, shoving you along the smooth surface until his drooling dick nestles itself neatly between the cleft of your asscheeks, bobbing against your scared twat with his tensed ball-sack swinging closely behind.

It’s a wildly contorted position, but one Keigo insists on nonetheless.

“Agh, I’ve been waiting for this.” He grunts. “I’ve been waiting so fuckin’ long, and you just wouldn’t let me fuckin’ have it.” Pulling and tugging on your swollen labia, he separate your sticky little slit until all that’s left to shield you is the tense ring of muscle defending your hole. “Well, that’s fine by me chickadee.” He slips inside with a breathy chuckle, giggling and chortling to himself even as you yelp in pain. “I’ll just do it myself.”

It’s fast paced with an ill rhythm. There’s no love or care to be felt in his thrusts, just cruel harsh punishment, a means to an end until Keigo gets to pump his babies into your precious womb, fill you with his chicks so you can finally be a family. A proper family.

“Agh, and we can do Christmas, and Halloween, and go to the beach.” The thought is almost arousing to him, motivating him into humping your rear faster. “Won’t that be fun, little bird?”

He can be sure you’re crying, or at least close to it. He pays your silent tears no mind, blaming it on the excitement of your new life taking will.

“Kei, please! I told you, I’m not ready!” You arch your neck to plead with him.

His smile falters, twisting into something much more sinister and lecherous. He clamps a palm over the back of your skull and turns you back to the wall, facing your pitiful expression away from him. “You don’t need to be ready. I’ll do everything for you.” A calm hiss meets yours ear. “All you need to do, is lay back and take it.”

He digs into your stomach, smashing your insides to pieces as you lay paralysed beneath him. Cold marble presses against your forehead, cooling your fever as Keigo claps into you from above, a heavy set of hung balls knocking against you.

“Keigo!” You chant his name, broken as you wail out a string of pained moans.

“Yeah, that’s what I wanna hear.” Keigo practically howls. “Let’s be animals baby!”

The domes of his knees crash down either side of you, evidence of his newly contorted position as he ruts into your cunt, foaming at the mouth where his teeth grind. “Yes, yes, yes. Fuck yes. Oh, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna fuckin’ cum. Gonna’ breed this pretty muff full ‘a seed.”

“Keigo, no!”

Funny you seem to think you’re still in charge. After this, you’re never gonna be empty again. He’s gonna stuff you one kid after another and as many as it takes until you become his cute little housewife. The kind that only cooks and cleans and looks after his babies while he’s out working and providing. Oh yeah, it’s all coming together sweet pea.

Keigo belts with laughter as you scream, thrashing and jerking beneath him as he spurts, spraying his seed deep inside your belly and then some. He slips out halfway, looking down to admire the ring of white sewing your gummy crevice together. “Mmh, now that’s what I’m talking about..”

[ceilidho]

prompt: vegas wedding (ghost/reader)

-

Your fingers trail over to the other side of the bed and touch something solid.

It jolts your body back into itself, mind awake when you register the heat of warm skin where there shouldn’t be skin. Not next to you in bed. The other side of your bed is usually cold to the touch, the sheets still pressed and tucked in place, undisturbed because you tend to stick to your side. They’re rumpled now, the sheets; tented under the body next to yours. 

You open your eyes only to instantly shut them. There’s an ache in your forehead that throbs when the sunlight filtering in through the gap in the windowblinds hits your eyes. You remember drinking the night before, but not much more than that. Actually, you don’t remember much from the night before besides getting dressed up in the hotel room with your friend before parting ways in the casino. 

Getting out of bed feels like it takes every ounce of energy left stored in your poor, aching bones. You turn on your side ever so carefully before shimmying out of bed, woozy enough when you stand up that you have to grab onto the bedside table to keep from crumbling into a ball on the floor. 

It sparkles in the light when you happen to glance down. One big, gaudy rhinestone in the centre and then a band of diamonds all the way around. It’s heavy on your finger, accentuated by the emotional weight and repercussions of it that threaten to actually make you topple over this time. 

“No, no, no, no,” you whisper to yourself, trying to pull it off and wincing when it doesn’t budge past your knuckle. Too small. You must have really shoved it on the night before. 

You wince at the thought of how much work it’ll be to take it off. Surprisingly, it doesn’t hurt though—it catches around your knuckle, but rests perfectly when you push it back down to sit on your finger like a ring should. 

The man under the covers—it’s an assumption, you’ll admit it as you don’t know for sure that it’s a man—makes a noise, shifting in his sleep. Your blood coagulates in your veins as your head whips over your shoulder to watch him carefully for any sign of wakefulness. For the first time since waking up, you get a glimpse of the man probably wearing a ring matching yours and he—well, he really takes up his side of the bed. 

The big lump under the covers doesn’t move as you stare at him. You don’t allow yourself more than a glance, charting the slope of his back muscles and the top of his dirty blond hair. He lies on his stomach, cheek pressed into the pillow facing away from you, obscuring his face. Probably better for you.

Still fighting the urge to scramble out of the hotel room with your things, you allow yourself one smug moment. He’s handsome, whoever he is—you’ve certainly pulled worse. More to your credit, you somehow talked him into getting hitched in Vegas. His back rises with every breath; you stare for a while and wait for the periodic soft, gruff noises that he makes in his sleep. When he turns over onto his back, you muffle a squeak when the covers tent under his barely covered morning wood and slowly back away and into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you.

The shower doesn’t help at all; it just prolongs your panic attack that worsens every time you glance at the door and imagine the man sleeping in your hotel bed waking up on the other side. It does feel good to wash off the grime from the night before, however, scrubbing every nook and cranny of your body. 

He’s sitting on the edge of the bed when you come out, only a complementary hotel robe wrapped around you. You freeze. Big shoulders undulate when he rolls them back, stretching them out after a long night’s sleep. When he stretches an arm up to scratch his upper back, you almost whimper at the way his arm bulges. 

“Thought you could sneak out, is that right?” he grunts, his accented voice rippling down your spine. You hadn’t expected it to come out of his mouth, not this large, blue collar-looking man with his muscled pectorals and the bit of pudge around his middle, softness that comes with labour and not vanity. He drags his hand over the scruff growing on his face, only slightly darker than the hair on his head.

“…I’m not really sure what to say,” you blurt out, reflexively tightening the belt cinching your robe in place. Conscious that your day-old clothes are still sitting in a pile on the bathroom floor, nothing underneath your robe. 

The man stares at your chest like he knows it too. “‘Course you do, love. Probably would’ve skipped off if I hadn’t gotten up, tail tucked between your legs.” His stare flicks down to your legs then, eyes growing heated, half-lidded. You frown.

“That’s how this goes, isn’t it? We, uh, do…this…that…last night or whatever,” you stutter out, face hotter than you’re comfortable with it being, “and then we go our separate ways. That’s what I’d expect from anyone.”

“‘Anyone’ isn’t wearing my ring on her finger,” he points out, tilting his chin towards your hand. You hide it behind your back. 

“That was an…” you clear your throat, “unfortunate detail. I can fix it though, I swear, just…just give me your email or something and I’ll send you the papers.”

This is precisely the most uncomfortable moment of your life. Thus far, anyway. You’ve had worse things happen to you, but as far as uncomfortable things go, little else comes close to subtly implying that you’ll serve a man whose name you don’t even know divorce papers. It’s certainly not what you expected from a weekend girls’ trip to Vegas.

He tilts his head, eyes locked on you. “Don’t worry about all that, love.”

“Why? Do you—I can give you my email address instead, if you want to…if you have a lawyer friend that’ll help.”

“No. Don’t need help with something that isn’t gonna happen.”

You can feel your temper getting the better of you. This whole weekend is shaping up to be a bigger headache than just the hangover you’re nursing. “A divorce—I’m talking about getting divorced, if that isn’t clear.”

“It is. It just isn’t happening.”

He’s being far too casual, unconcerned with your fists clenching at your sides, eyes lazily sweeping you up and down. He yawns like a big cat. 

“What are you talking about?” you hiss, taking a step towards him. Trying to seem intimidating even though your heart is beating erratically in your chest. “You can’t just say no. This shit happens and then—why wouldn’t it happen? It’s just a divorce!”

“Don’t believe in divorce, love. I gave my word.”

His words hit you so hard that it briefly rocks you out of your headache. “That’s so—that’s so stupid! It’s practically an annulment anyway! We didn’t even, you know—” your voice drops to a whisper, embarrassed, “—consummate it.”

“Maybe didn’t get to the whole course, but we didn’t do nothing,” he teases. A subtle thing, barely a twitch of his lip to let you know that he’s toying with you. Men like him toy with their prey like cats with a mouse. 

He probably isn't wrong. You might remember it with time, but he looks like a man that’s seen you naked. It’s an infuriating look. 

“Look, I’ve got—my friends are probably wondering where I am anyway.”

“Give ‘em a call; you can tell ‘em you spent the night with your husband.” No mistaking it now, the heat in his eyes. Nor the blankets bunched in his lap in lieu of his clothes, a fact you’d been carefully not letting yourself focus on for fear that you’d wind up just staring at his crotch. 

Like you are now, helpless to do anything as he drags the sheet away, letting it slip off the bed. His thighs are dusted in dark, coarse hairs, wide enough that you could comfortably sit on one of them. He gives one a pat too, beckoning you towards him. 

“Come back to bed,” he suggests, dick resting red and heavy against his stomach, big enough that you know you would’ve remembered having that inside you even if you’d blacked out. “Let me wake my wife up the right way.”

[zweiginator]

i crave inexperienced art like air. he’s never touched anyone except himself so his first time with you is a flurry of questions. “is this good?” “there?” “too much?” he’s so sickeningly sweet about it to the point you have to just take control. whether it’s his hand or his dick, you forcefully grab either and show him how while getting yourself there. he’s moaning and spilling in his pants like he’s 15 again. (i’m ovulating and going INSANE rn.)

mmmm art who is repressed. art whose grandma is very traditional and wants her grandson to be respectable, kind, and masculine in the chivalrous, soft way as the young men in her generation were.

so while she never outright said art should save himself, he would be far too guilty if he had sex. so he doesn't.

and as a twenty year old sophomore in college, he has done a good job at fulfilling this promise. he's only touched himself a handful of times; he doesn't remember how each time began--he just felt like he had to.

but after each time, each desperate thrust into his fist, each pass of his thumb over his aching cockhead, each time he came until he was shaking and out of breath--he felt so guilty. just dirty.

he can't imagine how bad he will feel after having real sex.

and he doesn't even worry about the possibility until he meets you. a pretty girl in his class who is so kind. you're so airy. he doesn't know how to explain himself or exactly what that means--he guesses that you're just sort of like a big breath. you feel good, natural, easy.

he can't help himself, looking at your body. his eyes pass over you and he wonders, like a pervert--like a bad, bad boy--what you look like underneath your clothes. the perk of your nipples, the curve of your breast. he wonders how your waist would feel. and he is really, really curious about your pussy. he's never seen one. but he doesn't just want to look it up to quench that thirst, that desire. he only wants to see yours.

you come over to his house to study quite a bit. you like how sweet he is. so hospitable; he always has drinks and a snack waiting for you. always listens to your ideas. always compliments how smart you are.

but art feels like a monster. he feels like a wretched excuse for a man. because whenever you leave, he has to touch himself. he gets that same ache in his stomach, his balls. he needs to cum. he hates that word, but it's true. he spits in his hand and fucks his fist and dreams of it being you. dreams of you taking from him, taking his virginity. having him all for yourself. whatever you fucking want, he would give it to you. your name spurts from his mouth like the ropes of cum that coat his hands.

and he scrubs his body raw afterwards. hates himself.

but soon, touching himself isn't enough. the more you come over to study, the more he gets those evil aching sensations but not to touch himself--to touch you. your skin looks so soft. you smell so good. your lips are glossy. he likes how they curl up when you smile.

he cuts you off as you're talking.

"can i please kiss you?" his request is quiet, his voice full of trepidation.

"yes. i was wondering when you would."

art didn't realize you were waiting for him. he launches forward. to hover on top of you on the couch. he's lazily made out with a girl before, but it wasn't anything serious, and they both sucked at it.

art's kisses are eager, his lips ache for more the second they close upon your own. he wants to do it again and again. so his mouth opens wider and he experiments. pushes his tongue against yours. he moans into your mouth, moans your name again and again. he's so desperate to touch you, but he doesn't know how. you push his hand under your shirt; you're not wearing a bra.

he feels the impossibly supple skin, the peak of your nipples.

"fuck--" he whimpers, rolling it between his fingers.

this time you moan. it makes him so hard. he doesn't know how someone could be this hard.

"is this good? do you like this?" the way art asks it isn't in the sexually charged way, it's a sincere question; he's worried he's doing a bad job. that you don't like this.

but you pull him back in. a 'yes' rolls from your lips as you nibble on his and your hand snakes down his torso. he's toned an hard there. he's harder when you feel his cock, straining.

and when you palm him, it's lazy. but art mewls against the corner of your mouth; he's basically drooling. his mouth falls open and you realize he's cumming. his hips jerk and he hides his face because god, that's embarrassing.

"we gotta get your stamina up." you whisper against his neck.

art nods and bites back a smile because you said we and not you.

[starkeyisthelastname]

shower sex with stepbro!rafe??

You hummed to yourself, your pink loofah in hand as you scrubbed down your naked body with the vanilla scented body wash. Your eyes had been closed, enjoying the hot steam and tune in your head. So when you opened them back up to grab your favorite scrub, you nearly jumped at the sight of your step-brother.

“Rafe!” You shrieked, heart startled as he smirked at you in all his naked glory. “What are you doing in here?” You asked, voice going softer as your cunt automatically clenched around nothing.

“Just making sure you are getting yourself all nice and clean.” Rafe told you, closing the glass door to the shower. He knew he was being perverted, but didn’t give a damn. He had been teaching you all sorts of things your naive little self didn’t know, and had been balls deep in your fuckin perfect pussy for the first time just a few nights ago. And fuck.. did he need it again.

“I know how to wash myself Rafe.” You told him with a roll to your eyes, only to glance down at your older step-brother’s huge dick. You had only had it once but had been missing it ever since.

Of course he was intimidating, especially with the way he stepped toward you, backing you up against the tile wall. “Yeah?” He asked, curtain bangs falling in his face as he watched you cower.

It didn’t take much for him to spin you around, pressing your face against the wall as he slid into you from behind. You let out a small whimper, his huge length filling you up in one go.

“Yeah-there she is.” He groaned, feeling your cunt wrap around him in a vice grip. His massive hand came up to hold your head still, toned hips beginning to thrust into your sopping hole.

You squeaked out a moan, manicured nails digging into the tile uselessly as you tried to grab a hold of anything. He was huge and the way he sheathed inside of you had you wanting to scream. But, of course all that left your mouth was pathetic whines and whimpers as you were now getting destroyed once again by your step-brother.

Rafe’s eyes flashed dark the more you came undone around him, the way he was ruining you just by telling you he was “teaching” you things had his mind going wild. He loved every second of corrupting your sweet little self all with some dick.

“Good girl.. you just love getting fucked now, don’t you?” His voice low in your ear as he continued to press your face into the wall.

You could already feel that funny feeling coming to your lower gut, your words now rambled together making you sound like a cock drunk idiot. You nodded the best you could, the tight grip on the back of your head making it difficult. Your cunt clenched around his fat length, a silent cry leaving your mouth as you came around him.

Rafe grunted at the way you squeezed around him, the tightest fucking pussy he ever had and only ever wanted after this. He yanked your head back, hand wrapping around the front of your throat. “Cumming already, slut? We aren’t fucking done until I have nutted in this perfect cunt.” He spat at you, ringed hand only squeezing your neck harder. Of all people his step-sister is the one who turned him the fuck on.

[kiesbrainjuice]

hey hey hey 💆🏻‍♀️ i saw you wrote something about “them reacting to you at your first match as a their gf”(hope it’s understandable 😭😭) with fukurodani so can i request the same but with inarizaki ? particularly with the twins

thank you have a good day ! ♡

—THEM REACTING TO YOU AT YOUR FIRST MATCH AS HIS GIRLFRIEND ! inarizaki

pr : atsumu x fem!reader; osamu x fem!reader; suna x fem!reader; kita x fem!reader

syn : them reacting to you playing volleyball for the first time since you got together

wc : 3.8k

tw : none, just some jealousy and tease ykkk, pure fluff

a/n : sure! i wanted to do it for a long time! anyway i did the twins in particularity :) enjoy reading!

As they entered the bustling gymnasium, the air thick with excitement and the chatter of spectators, he felt a surge of pride. He might not be on the court today, but he was here for something equally important - to support the person who had become such a significant part of his life.

The Inarizaki team made their way to their seats, ... positioning himself for the best view of the court. As they settled in, the atmosphere electric with anticipation, he allowed himself a moment of reflection. He thought about the countless hours of practice you'd put in, the late-night strategy discussions you'd shared, the unwavering determination he'd seen in your eyes. A warmth spread through his chest, a feeling he was still getting used to but cherished nonetheless.

The announcer's voice boomed through the speakers, introducing the teams. Kita leaned forward slightly, his eyes fixed on the court entrance. Any moment now, you would step out, ready to show the world what he already knew - that you were a force to be reckoned with, both on and off the court.

ATSUMU MIYA

The gymnasium buzzed with anticipation, its air thick with the scent of excitement and nervous energy. Amidst the sea of spectators, one figure stood out - Atsumu Miya, the talented setter from Inarizaki High. He couldn't contain his enthusiasm, his body practically vibrating with excitement as he perched on the edge of his seat. His honey-brown eyes, usually sharp and calculating on the court, were now wide with childlike wonder.

"There she is! That's her!" Atsumu exclaimed, his voice cracking slightly with emotion. His arm shot out, finger pointing eagerly as you stepped onto the polished wooden court. "Did you see that serve warm-up? She's gonna crush 'em!" 

Atsumu's teammates, seated in a row beside him, exchanged knowing glances and suppressed smiles. They had endured weeks of Atsumu's endless chatter about you, his voice always taking on a dreamy quality when he spoke your name. Now, finally witnessing the object of their setter's affections in person, they couldn't help but be curious.

Osamu, Atsumu's twin brother, leaned back in his seat with a smirk playing on his lips. He ran a hand through his dyed gray hair, a stark contrast to Atsumu's blonde locks. "You've been yammering about her nonstop, 'Tsumu," he drawled. "Time to see if she's as good as ya say."

Atsumu whirled to face his twin, indignation flashing in his eyes. "She ain't just good, you scrub! She's freaking amazing!" he declared, puffing out his chest like a proud peacock. "Watch 'n learn, 'Samu!"

As the shrill whistle pierced the air, signaling the start of the match, all eyes turned to the court. You immediately took center stage, your presence commanding attention. Your serves were nothing short of spectacular - powerful and precise, they cut through the air like missiles, leaving your opponents scrambling. When you spiked, it was with a ferocity that belied your frame, the ball slamming onto the opposite court with resounding force. On defense, you were a wall, your receives steady and your blocks impenetrable.

Atsumu's voice rose above the cacophony of the crowd, his cheers the loudest and most enthusiastic. "That's my girl! Show ‘em what you're made of, [Y/N]!" he shouted, his face flushed with pride and exertion from his constant yelling.

As the match progressed, however, the Inarizaki team couldn't resist the opportunity for some playful banter. Suna Rintarou, known for his deadpan humor, leaned over with a mischievous glint in his usually sleepy eyes. "Damn, Atsumu," he commented, nudging the setter with his elbow, "She's a real catch!"

Atsumu's reaction was instantaneous. His cheeks flamed red, clashing adorably with his blonde hair. He tried to sound nonchalant but failed miserably, his voice coming out squeaky. "Course she is! She's perfect... Got the best setter in Japan teaching her, after all!"

Kita Shinsuke, the team's stoic captain, surprised everyone with a chuckle. His usually stern face softened with amusement as he added, "Careful, Atsumu, he might steal her away from you."

The effect on Atsumu was electric. His eyes narrowed dangerously, a pout forming on his lips as he clutched the armrests of his seat. "Hey! Don't even think about it!" he declared vehemently. "She's mine, you hear?"

Despite the constant teasing from his teammates, Atsumu's focus remained unwaveringly on you. His eyes tracked your every movement on the court, drinking in the sight of you in your element. You were a force of nature - fierce yet graceful, your movements fluid and purposeful. There was no doubt in anyone's mind about your skill and dedication.

"I taught her that move!" Atsumu often retorted when you executed a particularly impressive play, his chest swelling with pride and admiration. "Well, mostly. She's a natural, you know?"

As the match drew to its climactic close, tension mounted in the gymnasium. The scores were tight, but your team had the slight edge. In a moment that seemed to stretch into eternity, you leapt high into the air, your arm drawn back like a loaded spring. Time seemed to slow as you connected with the ball, sending it hurtling across the net with a resounding crack. The ball slammed onto the opposite court, untouched by the opposing team's defenders.

The gymnasium erupted into a deafening roar as the final whistle blew, signaling your team's victory. But even amidst the chaos, Atsumu's voice rang out clear and jubilant. He jumped up from his seat, nearly toppling over in his excitement, his fist pumping the air triumphantly. "You did it! That's my girl! Told ya she was the best!"

As the crowd began to disperse, still buzzing with excitement from the match, you made your way over to where Atsumu and his teammates were seated. Your face was flushed from exertion, wisps of hair escaping from your ponytail, but your eyes shone with happiness and pride.

The moment Atsumu saw you approaching, he bounded down the bleachers, taking the steps two at a time in his haste to reach you. Without hesitation, he swept you up into a tight embrace, his strong arms lifting you clean off your feet. You felt the rumble of his laughter against your chest as he spun you around, uncaring of the amused looks from passersby.

"Ya were amazing, [Y/N]!" Atsumu exclaimed, his voice thick with emotion. "Knew you had it in ya! Bet those scrubs didn't know what hit them!"

You laughed, the sound muffled against his shoulder as you wrapped your arms around his neck. "Thanks, Atsumu," you replied, your heart swelling with affection. "Means a lot that you were here."

As Atsumu set you back on your feet, his teammates approached, each offering their congratulations. Suna stepped forward first, a genuine smile replacing his usual deadpan expression as he offered you a high five. "Great game, [Y/N]," he said, impressed. "You're as impressive as Atsumu said. Maybe even more so."

You returned the high five with a warm smile. "Thanks, Suna. That means a lot coming from you guys."

Osamu grinned, throwing a muscular arm around his twin's shoulder. His eyes twinkled with mischief as he said, "Ya know, [Your Name], with skills like that, we might have to recruit ya."

Atsumu's reaction was immediate and predictable. "Back off, ‘samu!" he protested loudly, pulling you closer to his side possessively. His cheeks puffed out in annoyance, reminiscent of a child protecting his favorite toy. "She's mine, and she's staying right where she is! Go find your own amazing girlfriend if you can!"

Aran Ojiro, the team's powerful wing spiker, let out a deep, rumbling laugh. "Looks like Atsumu's getting protective," he observed, his kind eyes crinkling at the corners. "Can't blame him, though. You're quite the player, [Y/N]."

You felt a blush creeping up your neck at all the attention and praise. Squeezing Atsumu's hand reassuringly, you chuckled. "Don't worry, 'Tsumu, I'm not going' anywhere," you assured him, before adding with a playful wink, "But maybe I'll join a practice or two. Could be fun to spike your sets for a change."

Atsumu's face lit up like a Christmas tree, his grin threatening to split his face in two. His eyes, usually sharp and focused, now shone with unbridled affection and pride. "You're the best, [Y/N]," he declared, pressing a quick kiss to your temple. "Let's go celebrate! I'm buying! Gonna treat my star player right!"

As you walked off the court hand in hand with Atsumu, surrounded by his boisterous teammates, you felt a profound sense of belonging. The victory was sweet, but the knowledge that you had such unwavering support - especially from Atsumu - was even sweeter. 

OSAMU MIYA

The Sendai City Gymnasium hummed with anticipation, its vast interior a cacophony of excited chatter. Amidst the sea of spectators, Miya Osamu sat with uncharacteristic restlessness, his usually calm demeanor betrayed by the slight tapping of his foot. His grey eyes, typically laid-back, now held an intensity that matched his twin's on the volleyball court.

"There she is," Osamu said quietly, a soft smile playing on his lips as you stepped onto the gleaming court, your team's colors vivid against your skin.

Beside him, his twin brother Atsumu leaned forward, honey-brown eyes wide with curiosity. "So that's her, huh? The girl who's got my brother all soft and mushy?"

Osamu's elbow found Atsumu's ribs with practiced ease. "Shut it, ya scrub," he muttered, but there was no real heat in his words. His eyes remained fixed on you, drinking in your pre-game ritual.

Suna, seated on Osamu's other side, smirked. "Never thought I'd see the day Osamu got all worked up over something other than food."

"I'm not worked up," Osamu protested, his calm voice at odds with the slight blush creeping up his neck. "I'm just... supportive."

Atsumu snorted. "Yeah, real supportive. That's why you've been fussing with your hair for the past ten minutes, right?"

Osamu's hand, which had indeed been absently running through his grey locks, dropped to his lap. "I don't fuss," he grumbled.

As the teams gathered for their pre-game huddles, Atsumu's curiosity got the better of him. "So, what's she like on the court? Any good?"

For the first time since arriving, Osamu's eyes left you, turning to his brother with a hint of pride. "She's amazing," he said simply. "Just watch."

The shrill whistle cut through the air, signaling the start of the match. From the very first serve - yours, as it happened - it was clear that Osamu's assessment wasn't just lovestruck bias. Your serve rocketed across the net, leaving the opposing team scrambling.

"Woah," Atsumu breathed, genuinely impressed. "That was-"

"I know," Osamu interrupted, unable to keep the smugness from his voice.

As the match progressed, Osamu's teammates couldn't help but notice the changes in him. The usually stoic middle blocker was on the edge of his seat, grey eyes tracking your every move. When you scored a particularly impressive point, a rare, unguarded grin split his face.

"Look at that," Suna drawled, nudging Atsumu. "I think we've found something Osamu loves more than fatty tuna."

Atsumu snickered. "Nah, that's impossible. But maybe it's a close second."

Osamu ignored them, too focused on the match to rise to their bait. But when you executed a perfect cut shot, threading the ball between two blockers, he couldn't contain himself. "That's my girl!" he shouted, startling those around him with his uncharacteristic volume.

Atsumu's eyebrows shot up. "Wow, 'Samu. I didn't know ya could yell like that."

"Learned from the best," Osamu retorted dryly, earning a laugh from his teammates.

As the match drew to its climactic close, even Atsumu and Suna found themselves caught up in the excitement. The scores were tight, but your team had the edge. In a heart-stopping moment, you leapt high, arm drawn back. The gymnasium seemed to hold its breath as you connected with the ball, sending it hurtling past the opponents' defenses.

The final whistle blew, signaling your team's victory. The crowd erupted, but no one cheered louder than Osamu. He was on his feet in an instant, pumping his fist in the air. "That's it! Ya did it!"

Atsumu stared at his twin in amused disbelief. "Who are you and what have ya done with my brother?"

As the crowd began to disperse, you made your way over to where Osamu and his teammates were seated. Osamu vaulted over the railing, ignoring Kita's reproachful look, and met you halfway. Without hesitation, he swept you up into a tight embrace, spinning you around.

"You were incredible," he murmured, setting you down but keeping his arms around you.

You laughed, flushed with victory and affection. "Thanks for coming, 'Samu. Means a lot."

"Wouldn't have missed it for anything'," he replied, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"Oi, oi," Atsumu called, approaching with the rest of the team. "Don't I get to meet the girl who's turned my brother into a cheerin' softie?"

Osamu rolled his eyes but kept an arm around your waist as he turned to face his team. "Guys, this is [Y/N]. [Y/N], these are the scrubs I put up with."

As introductions were made, Atsumu couldn't resist teasing his twin. "Ya know, [Y/N], if you ever get tired of this guy's cooking, I make a mean-"

"Don't even think about it," Osamu cut in, pulling you closer. "My cooking skills are part of the package deal."

You laughed, leaning into Osamu's side. "Don't worry, 'Samu. You had me at onigiri."

Suna smirked. "Now that's true love."

As the group headed out to celebrate your victory, you found yourself in the middle of the twins' familiar bickering, Osamu's arm a comforting weight around your shoulders.

RINTARO SUNA

The Sendai City Gymnasium buzzed with anticipation, its vast interior filled with excited chatter. Amidst the sea of spectators, Suna Rintarou sat with his usual languid posture, but his typically half-lidded eyes were wide open and alert, fixed intently on the court entrance.

As you stepped onto the gleaming court, your team's colors bold against your skin, a small, genuine smile tugged at Suna's lips - a rare sight that didn't go unnoticed by his teammates.

"Woah, is Suna actually showing emotion?" Atsumu teased, nudging the middle blocker with his elbow.

Suna's expression immediately smoothed back into his characteristic deadpan. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he drawled, though his eyes never left you.

Osamu leaned forward, intrigued. "So that's her, huh? The one who's got our Suna staying awake during matches he's not playing in?"

"I always stay awake," Suna retorted, finally tearing his gaze away to give Osamu an unimpressed look.

"Yeah, but ya usually look like yer wishing you were asleep," Atsumu chimed in. "Now ya actually look... interested."

Suna shrugged, a hint of pride seeping into his voice despite his best efforts. "She's worth staying awake for."

As the teams gathered for their pre-game huddles, Atsumu's curiosity got the better of him. "So, what's she like on the court? Any good?"

For a moment, Suna's usual bored expression gave way to a smirk. "Just watch," he said simply, settling back in his seat.

The shrill whistle cut through the air, signaling the start of the match. From your very first move, it was clear that Suna's confidence in your abilities wasn't misplaced. Your plays were sharp, your reflexes quick, and your game sense impressive.

"Damn," Osamu muttered after you pulled off a particularly clever feint. "She's good."

"Of course she is," Suna replied, unable to keep a note of smugness from his voice. "We practice together sometimes."

Atsumu's eyes widened. "You mean ya actually voluntarily do extra practice? Who are you and what have ya done with the real Suna?"

Suna merely shrugged, but the soft look in his eyes as he watched you play spoke volumes.

As the match progressed, Suna's teammates couldn't help but notice the subtle changes in his demeanor. While he wasn't as openly expressive as Atsumu might be, the tension in his shoulders when you were up to serve, the way he leaned forward during crucial points, and the ghost of a smile when you scored - it all painted a picture of a Suna they rarely saw.

When you executed a perfect block that sent the ball spinning back to the opponent's court, Suna actually stood up, a rare grin spreading across his face. "Nice kill," he said, loud enough to be heard over the crowd.

Kita raised an eyebrow. "I don't think I've ever heard Suna cheer before."

"It's not cheering," Suna protested weakly, sinking back into his seat. "It's... appreciating good volleyball."

"Sure, sure," Atsumu snickered. "And I'm sure it has nothing to do with who's playing that good volleyball, right?"

As the match drew to its climactic close, even Suna couldn't maintain his usual nonchalance. The scores were tight, but your team had the edge. In a heart-stopping moment, you leapt high for a spike, your form perfect. The gymnasium seemed to hold its breath as you connected with the ball, sending it hurtling past the opponents' defenses.

The final whistle blew, signaling your team's victory. While the crowd erupted in cheers, Suna's reaction was more subdued but no less meaningful. He was on his feet, a genuine smile on his face, clapping with more enthusiasm than his teammates had ever seen from him.

"Way to go, [Y/N]," he said softly, though his eyes shone with pride.

As the crowd began to disperse, you made your way over to where Suna and his teammates were seated. Suna met you halfway, his usual languid movements quickened by excitement he couldn't quite hide.

"Nice game," he said, pulling you into a hug that surprised his watching teammates. "You were amazing out there."

You laughed, wrapping your arms around him. "Thanks for coming, Rin. Means a lot."

"Wouldn't have missed it," he murmured, pressing a quick kiss to your temple before pulling back, aware of his teammates' eyes on you both.

"So this is the famous [Y/N]," Atsumu said, approaching with a grin. "The girl who's got our Suna actually showing interest in something besides blocking and napping."

Suna rolled his eyes, but kept an arm around your waist. "Guys, this is [Y/N]. [Y/N], these are the idiots I'm forced to play with."

As introductions were made, the twins couldn't resist teasing Suna.

"Ya know, [Y/N]," Osamu started, a mischievous glint in his eye, "if ya ever want to see what it's like to date someone with actual energy-"

"I have plenty of energy for what matters," Suna cut in smoothly, pulling you closer. 

You chuckled, leaning into Suna's side. "Don't worry, guys. I like my volleyball players tall, skilled, and delightfully snarky."

Atsumu clutched his chest in mock hurt. "Ouch, what about us?"

"I said skilled, didn't I?" you retorted with a grin, causing Suna to snort in amusement.

As the group headed out to celebrate your victory, you found yourself in the middle of the team's friendly banter, Suna's arm a comforting weight around your shoulders. 

SHINSUKE KITA

The Sendai City Gymnasium hummed with anticipation, its vast interior a sea of excited spectators. Among them sat the Inarizaki team, with Kita Shinsuke at the center, his posture perfect and his expression serene. Yet, those who knew him well could detect a subtle tension in his shoulders, a barely perceptible eagerness in his usually calm eyes.

As you stepped onto the gleaming court, your team's colors vibrant against your skin, the corners of Kita's mouth turned up in a small, but unmistakably warm smile.

Aran, seated beside Kita, noticed the change immediately. "I don't think I've ever seen you smile before a match you're not playing in, Kita," he remarked quietly.

Kita's expression remained soft as he replied, "There's a first time for everything, Aran."

Atsumu, never one for subtlety, leaned forward with a grin. "So that's her, Kita-san? The one who's got our captain all starry-eyed?"

"I wouldn't say starry-eyed," Kita responded evenly, though his gaze never left you. "But yes, that's [Y/N]."

Osamu, more perceptive than his twin, noted, "Ya look proud, Kita-san."

Kita nodded, a hint of warmth coloring his voice. "I am. [Y/N] works hard and plays with integrity. There's a lot to be proud of."

As the teams gathered for their pre-game huddles, Suna couldn't resist asking, "So, what's she like on the court, Kita-san? As disciplined as you?"

For a moment, a flash of affectionate amusement crossed Kita's face. "She has her own style," he said simply. "Watch, and you'll see."

The shrill whistle signaled the start of the match. From your very first move, it was clear that Kita's pride wasn't misplaced. Your plays were precise, your movements efficient, and your game sense impressive.

"Wow," Atsumu muttered after you executed a particularly well-timed set. "She's really good."

"Of course," Kita replied, his tone matter-of-fact but tinged with warmth. "She practices diligently every day."

Aran chuckled. "Sounds like someone else we know."

As the match progressed, Kita's teammates couldn't help but notice the subtle changes in their usually stoic captain. While he remained composed, there was an intensity in his gaze as he watched you play, a slight lean forward during crucial points, and a barely audible intake of breath when you were up to serve.

When you pulled off a perfect receive that turned the tide of a rally, Kita actually stood up, applauding softly but earnestly. "Excellent form," he said, loud enough for his teammates to hear.

Atsumu's eyes widened in surprise. "Woah, Kita-san actually cheered!"

"It's not cheering," Kita corrected calmly, settling back into his seat. "It's acknowledging good volleyball."

"Right," Osamu smirked. "And I'm sure it has nothing to do with who's playing that good volleyball."

Kita's response was a serene smile that somehow managed to silence even the rambunctious twins.

As the match reached its climax, even Kita couldn't maintain his usual calm demeanor entirely. The scores were tight, but your team had the edge. In a critical moment, you positioned yourself perfectly for a block, your timing impeccable. The gymnasium held its breath as you jumped, your hands forming a solid wall that sent the ball spinning back to the opponent's court.

The final whistle blew, signaling your team's victory. While the crowd erupted in cheers, Kita's reaction was more subdued but no less meaningful. He stood, applauding with genuine enthusiasm, a proud smile gracing his features.

"Well done, [Y/N]," he said softly, his eyes shining with admiration.

As the crowd began to disperse, you made your way over to where Kita and his teammates were seated. Kita met you halfway, his usual measured stride quickened by an eagerness he couldn't quite conceal.

"Congratulations," he said warmly, reaching out to take your hand. "You played beautifully."

You beamed at him, squeezing his hand. "Thanks for coming, Shin. It means a lot."

"I wouldn't have missed it," he replied, his thumb brushing over your knuckles affectionately.

"So this is the famous [Y/N]," Aran said, approaching with a friendly smile. "The one who's managed to make our Kita break his composure."

Kita's expression remained serene, but a faint blush colored his cheeks. "Everyone, this is [Y/N]. [Y/N], these are my teammates."

As introductions were made, the twins couldn't resist some gentle teasing.

"Ya know, [Y/N]," Atsumu started with a mischievous grin, "if ya ever want tips on how to get Kita-san to loosen up a bit-"

"I assure you, she doesn't need any tips," Kita interjected smoothly, his calm tone belied by the protective way he stepped closer to you.

You chuckled, leaning slightly into Kita's side. "Don't worry, guys. I appreciate Shin just as he is - reliable, hardworking, and wonderfully supportive."

Osamu nodded approvingly. "You've got good taste, [Y/N]-san."

As the group headed out to celebrate your victory, you found yourself walking beside Kita, his steady presence a comforting constant amidst the team's lively chatter. 

Ⓡ kiesbrainjuice all rights reserved. please to not plagiarize, repost, or translate !

tag : @haechansbbg

[dollwrites]

𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 — 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐢 𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐢

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!housekeeper!reader, this is a dark fic, dub con, power imbalance, suggested age gap, rough sex, gagging, creampie / basically forced breeding, enji is a big meanie, all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ dabi was supposed to be my first mha character but daddy won sorry. do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading <3

for once, during your shifts in the Todoroki household, you were breathing easy. you hum, quietly to yourself, as you scrub each dish, before rinsing the suds away to stack it in the draining rack. usually, you were already aching, with your face shoved in a couch cushion with your ass in the air, taking whatever Enji felt like you deserved that day. more often than not, you’d be crying by the time he finished, and tossed you into the floor like a discarded cumrag, smelling like him and shuddering. you told yourself you only kept coming back because you needed the money, but there were other jobs out there. nicer families to work for.

it was the fear that had a grip on you.

when Enji would bark your name, you would always freeze. he only ever acknowledged you when he needed someone to drain his balls anyways, so you knew what you would be doing for the next hour or so.

you were glad that ( it seemed like ) today would be easier on your body than normal. Enji hadn’t left his bedroom yet, and you were almost finished with the dishes. you had to mop the floors and tidy up the bedrooms, and then you could finally leave.

but the running water in the sink silences his usually too-heavy-to-miss footsteps, and you had no idea Enji was coming until you felt his warmth radiating against your back and your eyes widen. “M—Mister Todoroki, I didn’t hear you come i—“

“Stick your little ass out more,” he rasped, one massive hand pawing at your waist, thumb digging into your tummy to bend you into an arch, and you whine as you comply, gripping the platter tight in one hand and the sponge in the other, “the hell ‘m I paying you so goddamn much for, again? There’s cheaper housemaids, you know.”

“S—sir—“

his free hand hooks around your throat and guides your head back to rest the crown against his sternum, pretzeling you into an unnatural S shape and you cower below his massive form. the expanse of his chest seems miles long from this angle, his harsh features twisted into a wicked scowl. you squint, trying not to lock on to his furious eyes, and stared at his mouth instead. “P—please—“

Enji doesn’t even hear your pathetic, little plea, pushing his gargantuan body against yours, he pins you to the countertop, knocking the breath out of you.

“You’re a tight, little cocksleeve, so you’re worth just a little bit more than those old bags that clean twice as good as you do.” he snarls, hunching over to smear his open mouth over your forehead, and a wave of hot breath tickles your countenance, “but you’d better remember that and start acting like the pricey, set of fuckholes you are. If your back’s not arched, and that ass isn’t on display for me at all times going forward, I’m gonna start cutting your pay. You’ll take twice the cock, though. Am I clear?”

with your bottom lip trembling, you nod with wide eyes, holding the plate closer to your chest. you weren’t sure why you still gripped it, other than you simply needed something to hold on to, something to use as a shield, even if it was a useless one.

Enji quirked a brow, tilted his head of one side, and skewed his lips to bare his teeth. “My question requires a verbal response, whore.”

eyes big and nervous, you release the plate and sponge and allow them to slip back into the soapy water, splashing your top as they do so, but you try to wrap your smaller hands around his forearm when you feel his fingers wanting to tighten around your neck, threatening for you to submit to him or face the severe consequences. “Y—yes sir!” you stammer, holding on to the hardest muscle you’ve ever felt contract under your fingertips.

the hand on your waist careens downward and forces its way between your thighs, and you squirm when calloused fingertips, as rough as sandpaper, rub hard against your panties, “I thought I told you about this, too.” he hisses, coaxing a damp patch against his fingers as he kneads your sensitive sex through the lingerie. you whimper; Enji had made it beyond clear— panties were forbidden. that way, he could easily bend you over any piece of furniture in his home and fuck you without the irritation of having to strip you first. but the skirt he demanded you wear as part of your uniform was much too short, and when you scrubbed the floors on your hands and knees, if you weren’t wearing anything underneath, every inch of your most vulnerable section was exposed. you were embarrassed.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe out, wriggling atop his hand. even though he’s much too rough with your softer, more fragile body, it reacts by pooling slick, attempting to ease the friction he’s causing. “T—the skirt is just so short, I—“

“How many times?” he barks, effectively shutting you up as he wraps his fist around the waistband, “How many times have I had to rip them off of you?”

a soft plea for mercy dies on your tongue. a lot. so many times that you were running out of undies. “T—too many…”

with one, brisk jerk, he’s shredded the fabric, pulling the wad of damp cotton from between your legs in his fist. your body’s jostled by the force, and you gasp, knocked off balance, but pinned too tight against the sink to fall.

“And you still wore them today?”

“I won’t wear them anymore,” you add in a desperate breath. “I— I promise I won’t, p— please don’t be angry with me, I’ll be goo—!“ you were tripping over your own words, terrified of what he had in mind for a punishment. his voice was husky and diabolically low, all of his muscles taut, and you were most afraid of being on the receiving end of his strength if he took the notion to strangle you; you were in a most compromising position. however, your promise to behave is cut off as he jams your own, tattered panties into your mouth, using his thick, long digits to shove the fabric all the way to the back of your throat, and your bargaining melts into a helpless gurgling. the tips of his fingers tease the gag reflex he knew was there, and your eyes well up with tears as you stare up at him, attempting ( and failing ) to push the lingerie out with your tongue. it was only after he pulled his fingers free that you bite down on the underwear, and taste yourself.

“I don’t have the time to punish you properly,” he growls, shoving you further over the sink. you’re swept off your feet, and they dangle a few inches from the floor, the very tips of your toes barely dragging against it, hands scrambling to find solidity, and planting your palms against the bottom of the sink, soapy water sloshing, soaking your shirt, overflowing into the floor. “I’ve got somewhere to be, but, I need a fuck first.” the way he said it made your stomach turn. he wasn’t asking. he wasn’t even trying to pretend that you had a say in what he did with your body. he reaches between your bodies to retrieve his cock, which you are not surprised is already solid and mighty ( you swore he was hard every time he got the chance to degrade you ), and without so much as a moment for you to suck in a breath and prepare yourself, he forces his way inside.

he was so fucking big.

you whimper, blinking back tears. had you not been gagged with your own panties, you would’ve screamed. no matter how many times he used you, your body never adjusted to just how thick he was. your walls have no choice but to stretch to their limit, kissing every angry vein, sealing around his base when he bottoms out. you swear, with the force he likes to drive himself into you, and his impossible size, he must not care if he bursts through your belly. it definitely felt like he might— there was a distinct pressure against your lower abdomen, and you knew that had you not been smushed against the countertop, the shape of his cock would bulge against your navel.

Enji groans, dropping his head back. “You’ve still got the tightest cunt I’ve ever conquered,” he may have meant it as a compliment, but you could do very little besides yowl through your gag and kick your feet as he pounds you, hard and fast, desperately trying to find something to hold on to that wasn’t water, “she never quite gets used to my cock, does she? Still too big for her?” you could hear the splashing as the dishwater rains down on the floor, and you knew that once he was done with you, you would still have to clean up the mess he was making.

nodding, you try to reach both hands down between your legs, instead. you couldn’t pull him out, you knew that, but you could try and soothe your poor, abused sex by cupping it with one hand, your other trying to push against his herculean thigh in hopes to slow him down.

“Good,” he grunts, releasing your throat and grabbing both of your arms at the elbows, jerking your hands away from your own body. with a pitiful whine, you clench your fists as he wrenches your arms back, and uses the new leverage to toss you back and forth, meeting his merciless fucking, “the way you clench when you’re trying to handle my cock…” leaning with all of his weight against your back, he pants into the shell of your ear, “it only makes me want to fuck your useless, little brains out. Harder, and faster.” each word is emphasized as he does just that, pounding you so brutally that you see stars behind your eyelids, shaking you back and forth violently— to the point it made you lightheaded. you squeal and beg and choke on your gag, drool leaking out of the corners of your mouth, tears on your cheeks.

you didn’t want to admit it ( and couldn’t, even if you wanted to ), but the constant battering of his thick tip into a cluster of delicate nerves had driven you over the edge. it was relentless, the way he destroyed your body and your mind; each time his cock hit the bundle in you, your eyelids fluttered, and your brain turned to mush.

somewhere amidst the cruel and bestial assault, you’d dropped off. you fell apart, legs shaking and core pulsing, milking him more fervently, until you gave into the intensity of the orgasm and your eyes rolled back.

he saw this, and moaned in approval, “Don’t black out, slut. I’m about to flood your guts.” his cock was throbbing when he gave you his deepest, hardest thrusts. you yelp in protest when the head of his cock bumps your cervix, but you could do absolutely nothing to stop it, not with the mountainous man holding you down with every last ounce of his weight. you simply had to take the pressure, and rope after rope of warmth that he shoots into you. your toes curl when he pulls back to slam himself home one last time, and the last few spurts of his release dribble out of your quivering hole when he pulls out.

letting go of your arms and stepping back, he tucks himself back into his uniform as you collapse. first, into the sink, and then, when your feet hit the floor, your knees buckle and you slide into a trembling, messy heap in the floor. you can feel the puddle of soapy water under your bum, it’s soaked the rug, too. exhausted, panting, with your thighs vibrating and your sex clenching uncontrollably, you sag against the side of the cabinet door. you shy closer to it, trying to meld into the wooden panel when Enji steps closer, and grabs your chin to tilt it up. your panties still lodged in your mouth, you look up at him with glassy eyes, wincing at his very touch.

“You’re staying late tonight, after you’ve finished your cleaning duties I want you to wait for me to come home and ruin you again, on your knees by the door like a proper whore.” he says, in a matter-of-fact baritone. you nod slowly.

you were, once again, fucked into complete obedience.