#slimeball collab

[maliciouslove]

ℍ𝕠𝕟𝕖𝕪 𝕋𝕣𝕒𝕡

✧ pairing: fuckboy smileball barista!denki x reader  ✧ summary: having a slimebucks apron is equal to having unlimited rizz (source: me) and denki proves it by bedding his brand new colleague on her very first day of work.  ✧ word count: 5.5k ✧ tags: dubcon(?), manipulation(?), weed and alcohol use, oral (f!receiving), fingering, squirting, overstimulation, forced orgasm, pussyjob, unprotected sex, pulling out, size difference (denki is Tall and Lanky TM), unappropriate work relationship, scummy denki, no feelings.

✧ my submission for the @bastardblvd Slimeball collab ✧

✧ AN: happy birthday to my little slimy fuckboy denks <3 this was so fun to work on, genuinely love being a grimetown resident now. the fanart is made by me but i'm no pro so.. be kind please. :D it was written in a daze so if you see discrepancies.. look away. based on my own tiny starbucks where i work (i am slimebucks denki incarnate). you may expect of me to make this a slimebucks series.. katsuki or touya next? ;)

Denki doesn’t like morning shifts — he doesn’t like how grumpy people are first thing in the morning because it makes scoring dates much harder for him. No matter how bubbly and pleasant he is, Monday mornings are just a bad time to flirt with clients. Most customers don’t even spare a glance at him, too busy figuring out their schedule for the day and burying their noses in their phones. He does, however, enjoy the morning business attire — stockings, pencil skirts, white shirts that allow him to see the outline of a bra underneath… and those heels. Something about office fashion always getshim riled up. 

Typically, if he couldn’t strike up a conversation with the morning customers he would settle for watching them, eyes trailing down their crossed legs when they sit down to enjoy their coffee. He would follow their elegant movements and the curves of their bodies — from the corners of their painted lips turning upward in delight after a sip of hot coffee, to their dainty ankles decorated by the ankle strap of their heels swinging to the rhythm of the music playing softly on the speakers.

That is how his Mondays usually go, yet today he couldn't even enjoy that, all because of a new recruit.

His manager Katsuki (that angry bastard) had not even mentioned to them that he was hiring; he announced only yesterday that there would be a new trainee, pushing the responsibility of showing them around the store and kicking off their barista training onto him. Of course he wouldn’t ask Touya to train them — he would end up with his cock in his hand less than ten minutes into the start of his shift due to his “side hustle” schedule conflict, which in turn would scare off any new hire… and then the hiring process would have to start all over again. Katsuki himself is not much better off as barista trainer, his constant irritation and habit of screaming at everyone and everything has made many employees quit (and cry) early on, but the reason he was shoving the responsibility onto Denki was simply that he wouldn’t be in the store due to a manager’s meeting in Tokyo.

Bummer. 

According to the clock on the wall, the new hire should be coming in any time now, so Denki settles for focusing his attention and efforts on that instead of his grumpy morning customers. And then, there you were in your yellow raincoat, all sunshine and smiles from the moment you step inside the store. Denki gives you a once over and decides maybe this Monday morning wouldn’t be so awful after all — you were cute and far too innocent and optimistic looking for him not to take advantage and have a little… fun. 

His plan begins to form before you’ve even laid eyes on him.

“Hi! You must be the new addition to our team, pleasure to meet you!” The blonde extends a hand to greet you, his most charming smile plastered on his face. “Our team is a bit of a sausage party right now, so I hope you can bear with us and not get discouraged. We desperately need someone like you on our team.” 

“Oh I can tell, your merch cabinets look very… dry. You fellas are not big on decorating, are you?” Your heartfelt laugh nearly disarms the blonde man as he scratches the back of his head awkwardly, admitting that the three men working there did not have the best sesne of aesthetics and beauty. 

Oh, you were just his type — confident, energetic, and just a bit too kind and trusting. 

“Well, you’re here to save us, right? How about we get started on your training, get the boring part over with so we can get to know each other better.” 

There was not a single pure intention behind his words, but his face remains the picture of innocence and kindness. He’s had time to practice this look after all — can’t let people find out what’s behind the sunshine facade now, can he?

“Oh well training shouldn’t take long, I worked at a different Slimebuckslocation before moving to this part of town, hence why I’m being transferred here. I can get around drink making just fine, so you can just show me around the store I guess?” You bat your eyelashes at him and Denki thinks of you as a pure miracle. This expedites the timeline he had in mind.

With a pep in his step, he shows you around the store and back of house, informing you where they keep extra syrups and toppings at the front and the storage in the back. He hands you a new apron and name tag while informing you of the usual cleaning routine and covering all the basics that you need to get around the new store on your own. Not that he follows these cleaning routines that closely anyhow, but hey, you were here to pick up the slack now.

“So, think you got everything? Any questions?” Denki leans back against the bar on his elbows, long black painted fingers interlocking in front of his torso. He’s laid back and so pretty it’s almost distracting. A regular person has to exert effort not to stare too long at his honey colored eyes that crinkle when he smiles.

However, you cannot get too distracted — you must remain focused and make a good impression today. 

“Yes, can I please rearrange and restock your merchandise cabinets? They do not spark joy and desire to buy in their current state. No offense.” 

“Have at it.” Denki does not break eye contact, not once — feline eyes following your every move, gears turning in his head and schemes hatching in his pretty little head. 

He doesn’t want to seem too overbearing, but he also doesn’t want you to think he isn’t interested. So, as it is pretty quiet in the store right now, he decides to give you a hand with the merchandise, chatting with you — learning about you. After all, the only times he actually puts effort into his minimum wage job arewhen there is a prospect of a cute girl removing her panties for him. 

“So, you live nearby?” he begins to prod at you with innocent questions.

“Ah, not quite. I have to take a bus to get here since I don’t have a car anymore. I live on the east side of town, close to that big mall they built recently.” 

Denki is easy to talk to, a nice balance budding between the two of you as he takes boxes out and hands you colorful cups and tumblers to put on the shelves. 

“Hey, I live around those parts, too, I can give you a lift after work, save you some bus fare. Unless you have some super jealous boyfriend or something?” Despite flunking out of college, Kaminari isnot stupid — he isplaying his cards just right, creating an opportunity to learn if you’re single and give you an option to spend more time with him, which isn’t really an option. Unless you do have a boyfriend, you wouldn’t have a reason to say no, not after the deliberate way he phrased it. 

“Haha, no, no boyfriend — kind of the reason I don’t currently have a car and why I had to move.” There’s an edge to your voice, maybe even a trace of anger, but to him they appear as feelings that seem to have simmered down. “I got out of a long relationship recently. We used to live together and share a car, but I had to get my own place after the breakup, and he took the car. And the dog.”

“That bastard!” Denki chimes, a bit too exaggerated, but he figures making a small joke won’t actually hurt. “Really though, that sucks. I’m sorry it happened.” 

The way he switches from being a clown to being a gentleman can give a person whiplash. 

“Don’t be, I’m not sorry it happened.” You shrug your shoulders and give him a wide, genuine smile. “Now I get to hook up and have flings whever I want.” 

You keep the tone light, and you mean what you said — you’re not looking for anything serious right now, and the satisfaction from your answer was well written on the blonde’s face. He was cute, so maybe you’ll play along, have fun for once. 

“So this means you’ll let me give you a ride?” 

“If you really don’t mind?” You put the final tumbler on the shelf and examine your work in delight. Meanwhile Denki examines your body in delight. 

“Oh, I’d be honored to.” A devious grin adorns his face as he follows you behind bar to help serve customers. 

The day goes on, the playful banter between you and the blonde continuing — turns out you have similar hobbies: you like the same movies and games, you even have similar music taste, and Denki relinquished the store music rights to you for the day. 

Your shoulders would brush as you work side by side at the coffee machines, and he would laugh shyly, complimenting your pace and how well you’re adjusting to the new store. The exchanges between the two of you were flawless, seamlessly passing each other lids and pitchers without so much as saying a word. 

Kaminari gave the perfect performance of a man who enjoys his work; he didn’t even obnoxiusly flirt with every beautiful girl that placed an order. 

“Hey, can you grab some more caramel drizzle from the back?” Denki asks after a huge line of people finally dissipates and gives room for some tidying up and restocking. 

“Yea, absolutely. Need anything else?” 

“Also grab some extra bags of coffee beans and vanilla syrup if you can?” 

You nod and head to the back of house energetically.

Denki’s been working here for over two years now, so he knows that after this rush there won’t be anyone in the store for another half an hour at least, so sending you to the back of house away from customers was a calculated move. As soon as you disappear behind the doors he follows — after all, you wouldn’t be able to carry all that back to the front on your own.He should give you a hand. 

Smiling to himself, he enters the storage area to see you standing on your tip toes trying to reach the bags of coffee on the top shelf. Quietly he walks up behind you, one hand on your waist to pull you back a bit, the other hand reaching above you for the coffee beans. 

“Be careful. If you can’t reach somewhere, just call for me. Don’t want you getting hurt back here.” He can feel you melt into him and rest your back against his chest as he takes the four-pound bag down for you. 

“Oh, sorry… I thought I was gonna be able to reach.” You smile at him, realizing how he was surrounding you in that moment, and something about itmade your skin tingle. “Thank you.” 

“Of course! I figured you wouldn’t be able to carry everything at once so I came along to give you a hand.” The two of you stood very close to one another in the cramped storage, but you didn’t mind, as it was far too cold back here, and Kaminari was pleasantly warm to the touch. “The caramel drizzle is all the way down on that same self, if you want to grab that?” 

Eager to complete the task, you turn around and bend over to open the box labled “caramel drizzle,” giving Denki a perfect view of you round ass, making him gulp hard. If he just reached forward he would be able to trace the curve of your ass with his hand, squeeze one cheek as his other hand trails down your side. 

He shakes the thoughts out of his head as you stand back up, several bags of caramel sauce in your hands. You were squishing them playfully which was not helping Denki in keeping unholy thoughts at bay. 

“I always loved the texture of these bags; it’s so stress relieving to play with them.” Grinning up at him, you were the picture of innocence. 

“Yea, they remind me of tiddies.” Denki blurts out without even thinking, too enthralled by his imagination showing him images of you wrapping your pretty lips around his cock and playing with his balls. Once he realizes what he said he waves his hands around in defence. “No, no, not what I mea–” 

“You haven’t touched boobs recently, have you?” You deadpan, and he can feel his heart sink. “Boobs are much more firm. I get where you’re coming from, but a bag of caramel sauce can not compare to a tit.” You say matter of factly while squishing a bag with your hand. “Can’t do that to a boob, can you?” 

Denki snorts out a laugh. 

“Yea, you’re right — tiddies do feel better. And it has indeed been a while since I got to touch one.” He dramatically wipes a fake tear from the corner of his eye, a big pout on his lips as he turns to exist the storage. 

“Aww, poor Denki… Wanna cop a feel?” You can see him physically freeze up at these words, turning to give you a bewildered look. “I’m joking! Obviously. You that desperate, pretty boy?” 

You walk past him with a gleeful look on your face. 

The look in Kaminari’s eyes changes as soon as you’re out of sight, and he cannot wait to get his greedy hands on you. In fact, he was going to challenge himself and get between those plush thighs of yours by tonight. 

When the two of you are behind bar again, he continues to orbit close to you, watching videos on your phone over your shoulder, brushing his fingers against your skin when he passes you a milk carton, caging you between his body and the bar while he reaches for something behind you. 

And every time you accidentally touched, you could feel electicity run down your spine and butterflies flutter in your stomach. His light amber eyes trailing down your body lit a fire in your lower belly. The day went on just like that — standing a bit too close to one another, making inappropriate jokes, flirting. And so came time to close and go home, riding in his car. 

“You done with the trash?” you ask as he takes his apron off. 

“Yeah, if you’re done with the floor we can head on out.” You head to the back of house together to grab your stuff from your lockers and lock up. 

“So, got any plans for tonight?” he asks, leaning on his locker while waiting for you to put your jacket on. 

Now that you’re officially off the clock, you take the time to pay attention to small details about the man — how long his eyelashes are, how he cockily half smiles at you, how veiny his forearms are. 

“No plans, no — I’m probably gonna end up watching Desperate Housewives with a glass of wine by myself.” 

And there you go — giving him another opportunity. 

“Oh you watch that too?” He’s excited, presenting this as an interest that not many share with him. “That’s basically my plan for the evening, except I was gonna get high instead of drinking.” Sharing with you that he smokes weed is also tactical; it indicates trust that you won’t misuse that information, and it also opens a gate for you to bond with him over weed if you smoke. 

“Oh, well...” And there you go, taking the bait. “If it’s not too forward of me to offer, I’ve got alcohol and pizza on speed dial, you have weed and good company. Maybe we can merge resources, watch tonight’s episode together?” 

Score.

“Sounds perfect.”

He places his hand at the small of your back as he leads you towards his car, being very caring and gentle — making you feel comfortable and safe, letting you open up to him. It was going to be a fun night for Denki. 

Your apartment is exactly what he envisioned: small but cozy, full of plants, color and art. The small space reflected your personality, a variety of interests on display, different styles clashing in every corner of the room. It was cute. And your chouch seemed very comfortable for eating pussy.

“Cute place.” 

“Thanks. I finally got the chance to decorate my own space however I want, so I went a bit crazy with it.” 

Kaminari doesn’t miss the emphasis in your voice; you lived for a long time with no control over small and insignificant things such as decor. You were frustrated. At the same time, he notes that now you seem to cling to control. He noticed it at work, too — you rarely gave yourself time off. Things are really looking up for the blonde man, and he can barely contain his wolfish smile as the gears in his head turn. You’d love to give up control, wouldn’t you? 

“Make yourself comfortable on the couch. I’ll grab us some drinks and we can order pizza.” 

As you make way to the small kitchen, Denki takes two pre-rolled joints from a cigarette tin and places them on the table. Wine and weed should make you nice and pliable for him. You return with a glass of white wine and a cold beer. 

“I figured you’s prefer a beer over wine.” You offer with a smile, and he accepts. 

“How observant of you. I just wanna check first:Are you sure you want to mix alcohol and weed? Might hit you hard.” He shows concern, but it’s fake — the more crossfaded you are, the easier it would be for him to get you naked. 

“Yea I’m uh.. More practiced than I care to admit.” You give him a coy smile and sit next to him on the couch, phone in hand ready to order food. Once that is out of the way, you both finally lean back and relax on the couch, the episode of Desperate Housewives starting with a recap. 

“So, do you invite people you just met to your apartment to get stoned often, or..?” He offers jokingly as he lights one of the joints up. 

“No, just the pretty and charming ones.” You’re no longer being coy about it like you were at work; you like him, and you aregoing to make it known. 

“Oh, you think I’m pretty? So you only want me for my face?” He retorts with faux disappointment, eyes focused on yours intently, curious and full of desire. 

“Not just your face. You have pretty hands too.” You answer with a straight face, reaching for his hand that was holding the joint and pulling it towards yourself, taking a drag from the joint between his slender fingers. 

Denki swallows, the lust thick in his throat. The way your lips wrap around the joint is sinister, the eyecontact you maintain while doing it — electrifying. 

His body responds before his brain can process, leaning in towards you to capture the smoke from your lips with his own, inhaling it and placing his free hand at the back of your neck, keeping your lips close to his. 

Honey-colored eyes stare down at you as your cheeks begin to heat, mind and heart racing as your tongue darts to wet your lips and taste him. Screw your plan to just tease him, wind him up for a week or two, make him eager — you don’t have the patience for all that. You set your glass on the coffee table and close the gap between the two of you, pushing him back, straddling him. 

“Feeling bold tonight, sweetness?” He smiles up at you, letting you get your dose of control, let you simmer in the illusion that you initiated this, you took the lead. His free hand rests on your thigh, thumb drawing circles over your jeans, gently squeezing you. 

You don’t dignify him with a response as your lips crash onto his in a searing kiss, fingers carding through his blonde locks. He can tell how needy you are by the way your body moves — pulling his hair a bit harder than you should, nipping at his lower lip, canting your hips over his. You’re leaning into his every touch, almost aggressively taking what you want from him, claiming control. 

He smiles into the kiss and in one swift move shifts you to lay flat on your back on the couch, his larger frame towering over yours. 

“Don’t move.” He sounds almost like a different person as he yanks the control from you, and you obey. You lay still and watch him intently as he lights the joint again, taking a long drag and putting the joint back on the ashtray. 

Leaning down, he places his hand under your chin, parting your lips and blowing the smoke into your mouth. You inhale and hold your breath as he traces kisses down your jaw and collarbone, warm hands sneaking under your shirt. He only speaks after you slowly exhale the smoke.

“You’ve brightened my day, you know. Let me thank you properly.” 

His fingers trail down your body and unbutton your jeans, feather light kisses pressed against your tummy just above the hem of your pants. You don’t protest, so he continues his ministrations, pulling your shirt up above your head and leaving you in your pink lacy bra. He pushes one of the bra straps to the side and—

Ding dong!

The pizza has arrived. 

“Fuck–” He scrambles to his feet to go answer the door while you qucikly throw your shirt back on and head to the kitchen. Denki follows with pizzas in hand that he quickly discards on the table. 

“Are the pizzas cut? Do you need any sauce or—” You’re scooped up in his hands and pressed against the kitchen counter. His lips are on your again, insistent and needy. “Denk— The food?” 

“I was hoping for a different meal.” 

His breath is hot against the shell of your ear as he lifts you up to sit you on the marble counter, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he makes desire bubble inside you once more. 

Discarding your pesky shirt again, he wastes no time in removing your bra and cupping your breasts, lips enclosing around your pert nipple. 

“You’re right — much better than a bag of caramel sauce.” His words are barely above a whisper as he tweaks your nipple between thumb and index finger, leaving wet kisses across your sternum and stomach. His hands grip at the hem of your still unbuttoned jeans, and you follow his wordless instruction, lifting your hips and letting him slip the jeans off. 

There you were, practically naked on your kitchen counter while he, still fully dressed, devoured you with predatory eyes. Large hands rest on your bare thighs, and he gently spreads your legs and drags you closer to the edge of the countertop.

You’re pretty and soft, and you smell nice. Denki can’t help but wonder if you’ll taste sweet as well. A single digit traces the outline of your lacy thong, marveling at the wet spot forming on the material. Hooking his finger behind the material, he roughly pulls it upwards — the feeling isn’t exactly pleasant, but it doesn't hurt either; it’s simply not enough friction. You need more. Your nose and eyebrows scrunch, and you wrap your hand around his wrist, a pleading whine leaving your parted lips.

“Aw, I’m sorry pretty girl… I won’t tease you too much, promise.” 

Another quick peck to your lips and he sinks to his knees in front of you, eye level with your needy wet cunt. Pushing the pink fabric to the side, he inspects your pretty cunt, glistening with arousal. Kissing from the inside of your thigh and making his way to your core, all you can do is tug on his hair and hold on while he devours you whole. 

Kaminari finally delves his tongue into your heat, leaving a long stripe from your needy hole to your sensitive clit and then focusing on the latter. His tongue is gentle, teasing — like he has all the time in the world to enjoy this tasty treat, working you up until your body starts moving on its own against his tongue. Your head is so far up in the clouds that you probably aren’t even aware of how tightly you’re gripping his hair and how you’re moving your hips rhythmically against his mouth. 

You sound cute: breathless and whiny, softly begging under your breath, head tilted back in pleasure as the muscles in your thighs stiffen and your legs shake. Yet, Denki does not speed up, maintaining his languid pace and dangling true bliss right in front of your eyes. 

“F-fuuck… Denki, please...” 

Your heart is in your throat, and your body aches from the tension, you need release. You can feel the smirk on his lips as you beg him. 

At the peak of your high, delirious from the need to cum but not being given enough friction to tumble over the edge, Denki lifts two long, slender fingers to your wet cunt and slowly pushes them inside you, the feeling of being filled up driving the air out of your lungs. 

Quickly, Denki finds that spongy spot inside you and presses against it, moving his fingers right against it while his lips and tongue focus on your clit. 

It takes seconds for you to ascend, body going rigid as your muscles contract around his fingers and your orgasm is forced out of you with a strangled moan. He does not slow down. 

One strong arm wraps around your thigh, keeping you still while his mouth continues to ravage you, fingers slipping in and out with precision. He was intending to force another orgasm out of you without giving you time to recover from the first. 

Your arms and legs feeltingly and limp, and Denki has to support your weight all while eating you out like a man starved. His cock is painfully hard in his tight jeans, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t make you cum one more time on his face. 

You taste like wild honey, and your whiny pleas fuel him to keep going, marveling in the feeling of you becoming tighter and tighter for him, chest heaving erraticly and shaky fingers scratching at his arms and shoulders. You are about to come undone for him. 

Before your mind can respond to your body, the coil in your belly snaps, and you gush onto his fingers with a scream, squirting in his earger mouth as he licks up every clear droplet. He removes his fingers and helps you come down from your high with gentle kisses over your swollen clit and soft thighs. 

Your mind is spinning, but your ears register the sound of a belt unbuckling. Groggily opening your eyes, you are met with the image of him keeping his t-shirt tucked between his teeth as he fists his cock to the sight of you. His pupils are blown — only a thin ring of gold remaining. He closes the gap between you again, his warm length resting on your sticky cunt, slowly gliding between your folds. 

You open your mouth to ask if he has condoms, but he seems to have already read your mind. 

“Don’t have any on me, but I’m clean, and I won’t put it in.” His words are rushed, and he is far too entranced by the feel and sound of wetness to even look you in the eyes. 

You can’t even bother to argue, too tired and blissed out with a new sesnse of hunger growing in the pit of your stomach. Your hips instinctively move to meet his thrusts, the mushroom tip of his cockhead grinding into your sensitive clit, and you just want more. Tired hands reach out to him, thumb rubbing over his cheek as he leans into your touch, kissing your palm with his eyes shut as his hips thrust faster against your sloppy wet cunt. 

“Fuck, gorgeous, you have no idea how bad I wanna be inside ya.” He nips at your hand still resting on his cheek and growls lowly, frustrated by his own imagination of how snug you would feel around his cock. 

Drunk on his words and the previous two orgasms he forced out of you, you want him just as bad. Throwing all logic and reasoning out the window you use the last of your strenght to lift your hips and line him up to your entrance, slamming your hips down and taking his cock all at once with a yelp. 

“P-Please, please…” You mumble in a chant as your velvety walls spasm around his girth, mouth loosly hanging open and a bit of drool trickling down your chin. You were so beautifully fucked out, heavy eyelids giving you the most seductive look. 

Finally overcoming his shock and managing to stifle his impending orgasm, Denki moves his hips and curses under his breath at the feeling of your gummy walls sucking him in. Grinning wolfishly at the way your eyes roll to the back of your head, small hands gripping his sleeve for dear life, he angles his hips to thrust his cock right into your sweet spot making you scream his name in pleasure. 

God, if he hadn’t edged himself half to insanity, he’d want to stay buried in your warm cunt for the whole evening, but you felt so good, he knew he wouldn’t last. Hooking his arms under your knees and then linking his finger behind your neck he rams his cock fervently inside you. The angle change of this position made you feel him all the way in your stomach, your clit slapping against his pelvis with each thrust. Snaking a hand between your bodies you circle a finger over your clit to help yourself while he uses you as a fleshlight.

“That’s right sweetness, keep doing that, you need to cum one more time f’me. One more.” 

Folding you even more and slamming you on his cock he could feel your insides trying to push him out as a third orgasm washes over you, more clear liquid splashing against his abdomen as you cry out his name.

Letting you out of the headlock, he pulls out quickly, pumping his fist over his cock as his balls thighten, and he empties his seed all over your wet cunt, smearing his cum over your clit and folds with a relieved sigh.  

Still caging you in with his arms at your sides, he leans down to place a kiss on your forehead. 

“You good?” You answer with a weak nod, and he can’t help but chuckle at how exhausted you are reaching over for the kitchen paper. “Sorry, it’s the closest thing I can clean you up with.” 

After catching your breath and no longer being covered in sticky cum, post-nut clarity finally settles in, and you chew on your lower lip, anxiously pondering the consequences of your actions. 

“Don’t freak out, pretty girl.” He’s his usual charming self now, feline eyes crinkling in a smile. “You don’t want anything serious, nor do I, and if word gets out at work we’d be both in trouble. So, how about we keep this between us?” 

Offering you a perfect escape — the final part of his plan. You smile widely glad to know you’re both on the same page, the anxiety dying down. 

“Also, sorry to bust a load and hit the road, but my landlord has left me like 12 messages about some emergency at the flat so I think I should really go check it out, might be a flood.” He awkwardly scratches his neck, showing that he feels bad about this. 

“Oh, don’t worry about it! Go, I hope it isn’t flooded.” You turn to grab one of the abandoned pizzas on the table. “Why don’t you take this with you? You never got to eat it anyway. Won’t be as good as fresh pizza, but it’s something…” 

He grins widely, accepting the pizza and giving you a chaste kiss on the cheek. 

“Thank you. I’ll see you at work then, newbie?” 

“See you then.” 

Escorting him to the door you lock it behind him and rest your back to the door taking a deep breath. 

Walking outside of your apartment complex, Denki pulls his phone out of his back pocket and dials a number under the name “Landlord Toshi”. 

“Hey man, thanks for always having my back with the apartment ‘emergencies.’” The blonde laughs into the phone. “Yea, I told you she was gonna be easy — fresh out of a relationship, wants to let loose and make up for lost time, constantly feels like she has to be in control so naturally gives the reins away when it comes to fucking. It was a fun little challenge.” 

“You dog.” The man on the other line chuckles and a bong can be heard in the background. “You gonna tap that again?” 

“Nah, she seems the type to catch feels.” Denki lights up the other joint in his cigarette tin and gets in his car, revving the engine. “Plus, the only reason I did this was to even the bet scores at work while Touya is still on vacation.”

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑! I do not own any of the characters or people mentioned in my work. these are works of pure fiction that do not reflect the views, opinions, or actions of any person, real or fictional. Furthermore, all characters I write for [thirsts, drabbles, fics, etc.] are aged up to 21 or older – they are adults with adult characteristics presented and written in adult contexts.

all rights reserved © by maliciouslove. my work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. all fanfics belong to me, please do not copy, translate nor repost the fics or files seen above as this is strictly prohibited.

[strawberrystepmom]

safety first

pairing: fake osha inspector!jiraiya x restaurant manager f!reader

word count: 2.2k

about: when an inspector unexpectedly comes to your restaurant, you figure out how to get yourself out of trouble.

contents: NSFW - MDNI. reader is referred to with feminine terms and has breasts and a vagina. piv sex, unprotected sex, partially clothed sex, walk in freezer sex, dirty talk, dubcon (just to be safe bc she is fucking him to get out of “trouble” lmao)

notes: this is a repost from my old blog. for my non americans: osha stands for occupational safety and health administration. they come and make sure businesses are meeting safety standards for their employees.

my meager contribution to @bastardblvd's collab. i love this old man and would love for him to stir me up with that hug- *gunshot* okay love you thanks for reading stay sexy!!!!

divider is thanks to @/cafekitsune

“Uh, we have a problem."

You wish the mere sound of that word, problem, didn’t make your skin crawl but between shifts while you prepare for what will almost definitely be a busy Friday night dinner service, it’s the last thing you want to hear. The word is even more unpleasant to hear from your very anxious looking hostess who should be manning her station at the front of your restaurant.

Turning to look at her, you quirk a brow and she visibly shrinks as she approaches you.

“OSHA is here,” she mutters barely louder than a whisper. You blink. Once, twice. Your lips twist into a concerned frown, a crease forming between your brow as you look at her. 

“Excuse me?”

OSHA is here…right now. In your restaurant. Looking for violations of safety rules right before a busy dinner service. Your mind quickly runs through various scenarios that could have prompted the visit - did someone file a complaint? Was there an injury? Panic rises and you instinctively look down at your feet to make sure you wore your non-slip shoes today, a large shadow entering your periphery from behind the young woman standing in front of you.

“Are you the manager of this establishment?” 

The voice of the unfamiliar man booms and you look up, eyes widening as you take him in. He’s big - significantly larger than any man you’ve ever seen and his visage isn’t one you’d usually assign to the inspectors that have come in the past. The sight of him is intimidating enough and then your eye travels to the ID tag clipped on his belt loop, the glint of the plastic protector making you gulp. 

“Yeah, I am,” you nod and swallow again, straightening your posture as you feel him look over you and zero in on your shoes. A breath sticks in your lungs as he flicks his eyes back up toward your face and thrusts his hand in your direction to shake. “Great, my name’s Jiraiya and I’ll be inspecting the premises for any violations today.”

Nervously, your hostess shifts where she stands and you nod your head to give her silent permission to leave. She casts you a glance before scurrying away, leaving you alone with the man in front of you. Thoughts run through your head of how you can best distract him, uncertain of how the condition of your own kitchen stands at this point in time. 

“Can I ask what prompted your visit?” 

Jiraiya looks down at you and you meet his curious glance with a flat stare of your own, mouth in a line. In a futile attempt to seem more intimidating, you fold your arms over your chest and you make a note of the way the corner of his mouth lifts in a smirk while he watches you. He hums, folding his arms over his own broad chest.

“Well,” he starts, voice deep and rich. “We don’t have to notify you prior to arriving and here I am.” 

Your mouth rises in a tight smile and you nod once, tipping your head and blinking at him indignantly.

"On what basis are you here?" He shrugs, arms staying in place over his chest. Nothing about this situation seems normal but you suppose it could be his first day on the job or maybe you missed something - this is the start of the busiest time of year and you hardly have time to keep track of the most important things much less minor safety issues.

"I just go where they tell me, ma'am."

Another nod, another curt smile and you unfold your arms and slap your hands against your thighs.

"Well, tell me what you need to see and I'll show you there." Jiraiya turns his back and you roll your eyes, his voice very audible over the hustle and bustle of the restaurant. “To the kitchen then!”

You watch as your staff stiffens at the sight of him, everyone looking down at their shoes in the same fashion you did to ensure OSHA safety standards are being met in the footwear department. His purpose in being here certainly isn’t about shoes, you feel and you follow him silently into the kitchen and back toward the stock room. 

Watching as he inspects every shelf, pulling our cans and searching behind them, you begin to grow impatient. He still hasn’t given you his reason for being here and it feels as if he’s wasting time getting to the point. Just as you decide to speak up, he clears his throat and tips his head in the direction of the freezers. 

“Haveta’ check in there next.”

A defeated sigh escapes you and you unceremoniously fan a hand in the direction of the heavy doors that separate the walk in from the rest of the kitchen. He looks behind him to make sure you’re following and he opens the door with a grin, pretending to shiver. 

You roll your eyes. 

“Tough crowd.” 

His words are aimed at no one in particular but you follow him into the small space and watch as he does the same inspection of each shelf he performed in the store room. The scrape of heavy boxes against metal shelves makes you shiver and he tosses an apologetic frown in your direction. 

“Sorry about all this.” For a moment you soften toward the large man, your eyes dancing across his broad frame. A thought flickers in your mind, the small flame of a potentially bad idea, but you try your luck and walk into the freezer alongside him and shut the door behind you. The proximity forces your shoulder to brush against his bicep and he glances down at you with a knowing smile.

“What can I do to pass this little inspection?”

The words drip from your mouth like sweet honey and Jiraiya smirks, chuckling before wrapping a hand around your hip and pulling you to his side. Heat rushes to your face as you look up at him, standing literal head and shoulders above you, and you feel embarrassed at the way you squirm and press your thighs together.

“We can make all of this go away real quick if you wanna.”

Breathlessly, you let him press the front of you against the cold shelves of the freezer.  The boxes and bags that line the shelves rattle with the force and you moan as he leans against your ass, his bulge resting on your lower back. His breath against the shell of your ear and the heat of your own weeping cunt are the warmest things in the freezer.

Jiraiya cups your clothed breast, big hands palming you hungrily as he rubs his clothed clock against your lower back and moves his hands just enough that he can manipulate your body enough that your back is arched. Sliding one hand from your breast to your chin, he cups it and forces you to look up at him. 

“Smile, sweetheart.” He pants the words through gritted teeth, a soft moan escaping you as you notice the determined look on his eyes. “I’m about to take real good care of you.”

All you can do is nod as you stare up at him, the hand not gripping your face reaching for the waistband of your black slacks and pulling them down in one motion, the fabric bunching halfway down your thighs. Looking down at the curve of your ass pressed against him, he hisses and chuckles lowly. A hand caresses one of your plush cheeks before giving it a little smack, the jiggle making him rub against you once more simply to feel relief. 

“No panties?” He remarks, his large hand sliding across your cheeks again to pull them apart with his thumb and index finger. Whistling lowly, he lets go of your face and you continue looking up at him, entranced by the sight of this older man inspecting your body. “What kind of luck am I having today?”

The hand makes its way between your thighs and you feel his index finger find your slit, the digit running through your soaked and silky folds. This time it’s you pressing against him and spreading your feet just a bit wider to give him more access to you. Never one to miss out on the feel of a sweet leaking cunt beneath his fingers, he swirls the tip around your clit before sliding down further and inserting just the tip inside of you. 

“You like that?” 

You nod, humming affirmatively as he slides his finger through your folds again. Another arrogant smirk crosses his features as he buries his finger to the knuckle without warning you, the slick heat of you sucking him in with little resistance despite how thick his fingers are. He works one finger in and out of you briefly before adding a second, the stretch of two of them so delicious your eyes roll back in your head. 

“Oh fuck,” he mutters and you feel a hand slide toward your lower belly so he can press you against him until there is no space left between your bodies. The deep pants coming from him make you squirm and he moves his hand again with the unspoken expectation that you keep your position exactly as it is. You do and your reward comes in the form of small, dizzying circles being rubbed around your clit with his fingers. 

“Jiraiya…” the high pitched whine leaving your mouth would embarrass you in any other situation but your mind is numb with the cold of the freezer. He continues to rub diligent circles that are driving you crazy and you finally cum with a moan, clenching around his fingers so hard he has to keep them inside of you until you have relaxed enough to let him go. He pulls his fingers from you and places them in front of your face, your tongue darting out of your mouth immediately to suck them clean.

A chuckle rumbles in his chest as you hear the unfastening of a belt from behind you, the jingle of the buckle sending a rush of heat to your still spasming cunt. The cloth covered bulge slowly reveals itself against your back and you gasp feeling the girth. He backs away from you slightly, pushing between your shoulder blades so that you are bent at the waist and you look down to see him tapping the fat head of his very impressively sized cock against your sticky folds.

"Look at you," he coos and you arch your back further. He responds by slipping his head inside of you, a gasp all you can manage as you stretch around just the tip. This man is more than you've ever taken in your life and he can tell by the way your thighs visibly shake. His hands find your hips and anchor you in place as a slow, deep, experimental thrust quickly becomes one deep, hard thrust that makes a clap sound through the entire freezer.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you chant as you look over his shouder. His long hair flies around his shoulders wildly and his jaw is tense, eyes focused on where your bodies are joined. The sounds coming from your messy pussy are obscene but neither of you seem to mind as his thrusts begin coming harder and harder.

Time is of the essence when you're fucking in a walk in freezer, after all, and he doesn't want to waste any.

If you weren't being so thoroughly fucked, you'd worry they can hear what's happening inside the freezer on the outside. You are simply too engrossed in the way every vein of his cock rubs against your walls to even care. Your jaw slackens as he slaps your ass again and he taunts you from above, on the edge of stuffing you full.

"You fit me so well sweet thing," he grunts, tipping his head back as he holds your hips in place and thrusts shallowly. He brushes against your walls just right and you squeal, head thrown back and face toward the ceiling as you clench and cream around his cock.

Panting, he thrusts one more time and stays nestled deeply inside of you to cum. You didn't ask him not to and you aren't complaining now, struggling to catch your breath in the cold freezer.

Realizing what you've done, you scramble to get away from him with widened eyes, his cum dripping out of you and into the seat of your slacks as you pull them back up over your thighs. He smirks at the sight, your sweet, soft skin marked with a red palm print.

"Are we good?" You ask, still panting and he nods, wrapping his fist around his cock and squeezing it once before wiping his hand on his shirt and pulling his pants back up. Despite the situation, you smile up at him and your gaze is softer than it has been during the entire interaction. He clicks his tongue and situates his belt buckle square above the button of his pants.

"Everything checks out here," his voice booms as you reach for the door to open it, two of your servers standing across from the freezer looking pale and concerned.

"Hi guys, he's just leaving." They nod and one of them reaches out, grabbing your shoulder and leaning toward you.

"Hey, OSHA's here..." they start and you furrow your brow, looking at the man departing through the busy kitchen. "Yeah, he's right there."

You point at Jiraiya and your server shakes their head, passing a paper in your direction listing the complaint of cleaning products being stored incorrectly. Peeking around the server, you gasp at the sight of a man in a safety vest standing at the kitchen door while Jiraiya is nowhere to be found.

"God damn it."

You grab the paper and fight the urge to crumple it in your fist, shaking as you head toward the kitchen door. The man standing at the door eyes you cautiously and you look around his shoulder to see if you can still see the man whose cum is currently dripping out of you.

"Uh, hey. I'm Asuma and I'm here to perform an inspection as a result of a complaint."

You nod, a tight smile on your face as you move out of the way and allow him into the kitchen.

[bastardblvd]

⚠️ in-progress submissions for the slimeball alley on bastard boulevard collab event. want to join? read our guidelines here. all existing slimeball collab entries can be read here. ⚠️

@ryndicate + slimeball brothers touya & natsuo todoroki

@gunfiendbabymama mcdonald's manager!aki hayakawa vs. yuuta okkotsu mcnuggets showdown

@nkogneatho + delivery man!toji fushiguro

@stariwrites + convenience store employee!reader x eldritch horror!sukuna

@odetoyourheart + toji fushiguro smut

@dabisqueen + line cook!touya todoroki

@ryndicate + smoke shop employee!shinsou hitoshi

@ryndicate + ex-roommate!kirishima

@buerriberry + sexy slimeball therapist!shuji hanma

@thus-spoke-lo + reader x line cook!sanji x taxi driver!zoro (feat. fuckboy fwb!ace)

@mika-writes-fanfics + slutty postman!getou headcanons

@linklebard + slimeball obgyn!hatori sohma

@linklebard + slimeball security guard!reno

@zeninsama + slimeball love doctor!gojo satoru

there is no deadline for the collab, so please don't feel rushed to complete it! however, if you're unable to participate and need to be removed from the list, let me know! no shame.

[dabisqueen]

Linecook Touya is descending upon Grimetown...

[emjiroki]

Pool Boy Yuuta Okkotsu x Lonely Housewife Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Infidelity, exhibitionism (outside), Yuuta is the lonely housewife slayer fight me

A/N: I'm back babies with Pool boy Yuuta for the lovely Wet Hot Slimeball summer block party collab event! My prompt was 'Humid' so I hope I captured the theme and everyone enjoys! @bastardblvd (look at Yuuta holding the pool skimmer! Im pretty proud of my editing skills)

Collab Masterlist

likes, reblogs, and comments are much appreciated

‘God they need to do something about this global warming shit’ You thought as the sun beat down. It had been storming over the last week in Grimetown so the humidity was intense; thick like you were being compressed and forced to breathe the water evaporating from the ground. And with the storms came strong winds, knocking small branches and a whole heap of leaves into the once pristine blue water of your pool. You had made plans to clean it out…soon, maybe ask that big man that stole your package and stuffed that block party flier in your mailbox to fix it, had really planned to ask your husband to do it before he left for two weeks on a “business trip”. It would be comical to believe that these trips were for business at this point, your husband coming home one too many times smelling of perfume that wasn’t the scent you wore. Something cheap and cloying that set a stone in your stomach. But you liked your life, all your bills were paid and your husband still treated you like you were his world, why bother rocking the boat over some whore? He’ll get bored with her eventually and come crawling back, take you on some big vacation as a secret sorry and it’ll be done with.

So here you were lounging on one of your pool chaises trying and failing to read your book with your brain a frenzy of thoughts when you vaguely heard a knock on the gate. You pulled on the slipcover for your bikini and went to open the hefty latch to the privacy fence. The sudden heat to your skin wasn’t from the sun beating down or the suffocating humidity, but most certainly from the man in front of you with a pool skimmer propped up on his shoulder. 

“I’m Yuuta Okkotsu from Grimetown Pool and Landscaping, sorry for the intrusion but I tried the front door and no one answered”. He seemed about your age, maybe a year or two younger, with sweet dark eyes and a handsomely cut jaw. Obviously fit under the company t-shirt that hugged his body. You bit your cheek slightly to try and keep your thoughts in check and not written across your face as you extended your hand to his to shake and introduced yourself. 

“I’m guessing you’re the poor soul that they sent to come clean my disaster of pool?” You asked opening the gate a bit wider for him.

“That’s what was on my schedule for today ma’am,” He said with a sheepish smile as he fumbled to close the gate latch behind him and followed you over to the poolside.

“And in this humidity too? Yikes,” You empathized, taking a discarded magazine from the table and fanning yourself as he surveyed the mess. 

“This will probably take a day or two to clean out and get balanced again,” Yuuta said with a determined look set on his face. 

“Please, take all the time you need” You requested, pulling the slip from your bikini off, “I’m assuming the husband will just write a check for whatever”. 

“R-Right, of course” He stammered, a rosy hue to his cheeks as he not so subtly looked you up and down. But he didn’t look away from your gaze when you made eye contact, going so far as to take a small step forward. You gave him a soft alluring smile before slipping your sunglasses on and lounging back in your chair.

“This humidity is a killer, let me know if you need anything” You commented as he pulled his phone from his pocket, assumedly to call his boss and tell them the plan.

“Oh I will, don’t worry,” He said with a lowkey promise in his tone that had you clenching. 

♡

An hour or two passed as he pulled out branches and skimmed the pool, the humidity absolutely baring down and making the air thick. You were glad for the sunglasses because you couldn’t help but stare when he stripped off his shirt. Sweat ran down his neck to the dip in his collarbones before rolling down his chest and chiseled abdomen, your eyes tracing the wet path down as you unconsciously clenched your legs together. You reached for your drink and realized the glass was empty, the ice slowly melting at the bottom.

“Yuuta, would you like a drink? Take a break in the a/c for a minute?” You called over as you gather your stuff to head back inside away from this killer heat. 

“Sure that would be great” He replied, pulling the skimmer from the water and setting it aside before quickly following you as you lead him in through the back door to the kitchen. The cool was a relief from the stagnant heat hovering around outside, Yuuta gratefully taking the towel you handed him and wiped his face and neck. 

“Water? Lemonade?” You asked as you opened the refrigerator, pulling the pitcher out and refilling your own glass.

“Lemonade is great, thanks” He huffed as he sat back in one of the bar chairs, pushing his damp black hair back away from his face. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t ogle for a moment, quickly turning away when looked up at you and filled the glass you pulled down for him. He said thank you again as you handed it to him, watching as he took a few big gulps of the cold liquid, his Adam's apple bobbing as he drank greedily. 

“You know Yuuta, I really wish my husband had a job like yours,” You commented, taking the seat next to him.

“Oh? And why’s that?” He asked, surprise in his tone but something curious and almost heated sparkling in his dark eyes. Damn, how could he be this pretty?

“Well, he’s always gone and I think the finance industry is making him dishonest” You admitted, casually messing with your discarded sunglasses on the island. The worst has already happened, at this point, you didn’t care about throwing yourself out there as you gently touched his fingers resting next to yours. 

“I’d be dishonest too if I got a house like this and a wife like you” He commented, a rosy hue to his cheeks though he didn't pull his hand away when you expected him to. 

“But the house is always so empty, it's lonely here… all by myself,” You said tracing one of your manicured nails up his hand to his forearm, goosebumps breaking across his skin, “He gives me everything I want but nothing that I need”. Yuuta turned slightly, leaning in close enough that a gasp escaped you, his dark eyes swimming with something you wanted to be devoured by.

“And what is it that you need?” He murmured, his lips close enough that you would only have to lean in an inch or two to feel them against yours, “Love? Good dick?”. It felt as if someone had lit a fire in your cheeks and it was rapidly traveling to the spot between your legs, your breath not filling your lungs anymore as his hand moved to your bare thigh. Your hands were shaking as you tried to take a drink from your glass, a small splash of lemonade running down your mouth to your chest. You squeaked out a soft moan when you felt his warm tongue against your skin, his mouth following the sour liquid down to the curve of your breast and sucking lightly in a soft kiss. Gripping his arms to keep yourself steady, he smiled up at you, that seemingly innocent shy boy smile from earlier. “Is that a yes?”.

♡

“Yuuta! Fuck!” You cried as he bottomed out inside of you for what seemed like the hundredth time today, you both barely able to get out of your bed this morning.

“You really never get tired do you?” He said with a chuckle, hissing as your walls squeezed around him, “Can’t even get my job done”. He’s right, hadn’t even gotten the chemicals ready for the pool before he was spread on the chaise lounge for you again, your thong bikini shredded by his eager hands and thrown somewhere in the yard. You were both slick with sweat from the heat, humidity ever present as you devoured each other for your neighbors on both sides to hear. His hands were rough against your ass as he squeezed and help you along to take his length, your hands on his sweaty chest as you bounced, spearing yourself on him again and again like you were possessed. 

“You’re just… so good” You moaned as he pulled you down to press against him, nipping his teeth across your throat and thrusting up into you. 

“Oh, you’re so good too beautiful, so fucking hot” He groaned, feeling your slick leaking out and running down to coat his balls in creamy white. He was so deep inside, carving out a place only his cock could satisfy, rutting into your soft walls like an animal. You couldn’t get enough as you moved your hips against his, his hand going up to wipe the drool from your lips as you fell apart.

“With a pussy like this I might just get obsessed,” He said his voice turning to a growl as you raised up again, his dark eyes seeming to grow darker as he watched your breasts bounce and the sweat rolling down your skin. “But you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”. You nodded, groaning out a soft yes as the flames of your climax licked up your spine, your brain foggy with the heat and the pleasure buzzing through your bloodstream. If only your “husband” could see you right now, being ravaged into a puddle in this primal humidity.As if he heard your thoughts, your phone began to ring. You didn’t think to pick up, only looked when you saw Yuuta’s hand move. His hand wrapped around it, squeezing the volume button until it buzzed on silent, flipping it over. His arms wrapped around you and pulled you down to lay against his chest again, practically growling as he pressed your face to his throat and fucked so deep into you you could feel him battering your cervix. The sound that broke from your lips as you creamed around his cock was something you hadn’t heard before, breathy and wild.

“That’s right baby, cum on my cock as much as you want” He panted, his hands running soothingly up your back despite him still hammering into your sensitive pussy, “I’m your husband now, I’ll make him disappear and you'll be all mine won't you?”.

[thus-spoke-lo]

Compliments to the Chef // slimeball linecook!Sanji x f!reader // NSFW/18+ [feat. special guest appearances by fuckboy fwb!Ace and taxi driver!Zoro]

Written for @bastardblvd's Slimeball Collab

Summary: A few nights pass after the sordid events of A Ride for a Ride, and you're working another late night shift at Franky's Flapjack Shack with Sanji, that damned pervert cook. Sanji manages to piss off your only remaining customer for the night, leaving the two of you alone in the restaurant. Soon, things start to heat up in the kitchen--and not just because that one oven door won't close all the way. CW: afab!reader [no pronouns used to address reader]; dubcon elements; slight praise kink/body worship; vaginal fingering; oral sex [f receiving]; brief degradation. WC: 3.7k

“Goddamit Sanji!”

Sanji glances up from his sink full of dishes to see you in the doorway to the kitchen, one hand pressed firmly into your hip, the other gripping a plate. “You called, ma chérie?”

“Oh would you cut it with the ‘ma chérie’ shit, you’re not even French.”

“Hey, I am too!”

“I know you’re from Canada, asshole. And anyway, you got another plate of eggs back.” You toss the dish of half-eaten breakfast across the counter towards him, as a piece of bacon flops to the floor and bits of hashbrown scatter.

“So?” he scoffs, raising one curly eyebrow, a smirk forming on his lips.

“So, he said they tasted like cigarette ash.” You cross your arms over your chest and stare at him unflinchingly. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

He shrugs as he reaches in his pocket and pulls out his pack of cigarettes. “He wanted his eggs over hard. That’s disrespectful to the ingredients…so I may have added some extra seasoning.”

“Sanji!”

“Fine, fine, I’ll make him another plate,” he mumbles as he lights the cigarette that dangles precariously between his moving lips. “On one condition.”

“And what’s that?” You’re not sure why you even bothered to ask—you know the answer will be some degree of unsavory.

“Just give me a little kiss.” He moves towards you, snaking a hand around your waist as he blows a ring of smoke in the air. “Just one.”

“I’ll tell him we’re out of eggs,” you grumble as you slap his hand away and huff back into the dining room to explain your unexpected dairy shortage.

*****

“Thanks a lot, asshole!” you shout as you swing the kitchen door open a while later, finding Sanji standing just inside with his phone in his hand, looking guilty as he hastily shoves it in his pocket. “Dude left without paying. So now we gotta explain why we’re short—again—and I don’t even get a tip.”

Sanji opens his mouth to speak, but is quickly shushed as you press your index finger to his lips.

“And I do not want to hear any ‘tip’ comments, you pervert.”

“Oh come on,” he grumbles as he tries to kiss your hand, “do you really think so little of me, my sweet?”

“…Yes.”

“Look, my dear, as someone who went to culinary school, I just can’t allow an injustice to be committed against food that way.”

You sigh and your head lolls back of its own accord as you stare up at the ceiling, counting the missing tiles. “Sanji, do we have to do this?”

“Ma chérie, I trained under the finest Michelin-starred chefs.” He takes a long drag off his cigarette and closes his eyes, becoming instantly lost in the vast expanse of his own bullshit. “When I worked in the kitchen of Chef Zeff, now that was where I learned to appreciate the simplicity of an omelet, none of this fried-egg-and-cheap-meat nonsense that we do here.”

He’s talking.

And he’s still talking.

And he’s still fucking talking, his words sounding more and more like the annoying hum of a florescent lightbulb. As you stand there and watch his lips move, his cigarette bobbing up and down, you start to wonder if maybe kissing him wouldn’t be such a bad idea as long as it would shut him up for a little while. He is a pervert, and a creep, and a bit of an egomaniac, but he’s also easy on the eyes, all sparkling blue eyes and soft blonde hair that was always falling in his face. And those hands of his—those long, slender fingers that you knew had to be capable of more than cracking eggs and gripping the hilt of a chef’s knife. Maybe he just needs to get laid to calm down and stop acting like he’s the greatest gift to the cooking world—although it would probably would be best to silence him if he has his mouth on your—

A sudden vibration in your pocket thankfully distracts you from your meanderings. You lean against the counter and take it out, chewing your lip as you see the notification on the screen:

BAD IDEA sent a photo

You already know what you’re going to find but you swipe it open anyway, and to no surprise, you see a text bubble that simply reads “wyd?” followed by a picture of himself—your forever-friends-with-benefits Ace is freshly out of the shower, strands of his black hair clinging to his chiseled jaw, rivulets of water dripping down his muscled body. A towel is hanging precariously from his lean hips, low enough that you can see the delicious v-shape carved into his lower torso, the one that practically leads you like a treasure map down to the long, thick column of a cock that you know hides just under that towel. 

I’m at work, you furiously text back, a warmth beginning to pool between your legs.

[BAD IDEA]: when u off?

[YOU]: couple more hours

[BAD IDEA]: k, text when ur on ur way. i’ll be up.

[YOU]: I bet you will be.

[BAD IDEA]: wanna see?

Before you can even place your thumbs on the keyboard to respond, a perfectly-lit photo of his rock-hard cock appears on your screen, his large hand gripping it at the base. You inhale sharply at the sight, already counting the minutes until the end of your shift.

“So whose dick is that?” a jealousy-laden voice suddenly utters in your ear, whispers of smoke drifting up your nostrils.

“Fuck!” Your phone flies across the room and lands face-down on the wet, tiled floor. “None of your goddamned business!”

“Let me guess,” he says as he walks around in front of you, his eyes never leaving yours for even a moment, “some fuck buddy of yours?”

“Sanji, let it go.”

“Why? No need to be embarrassed, my sweet. Someone as gorgeous and utterly desirable as you deserves to have all their needs met.” He pauses to take a drag and cocks his head, a slight smirk settling in the corner of his mouth. “And he does meet your needs…right?”

You glance down at your shoes as a montage of encounters runs through your mind, typically ending with Ace rolling off you and falling immediately to sleep. “Usually.”

“Usually?”

“Well, I mean, sometimes,” you say, swaying your head a little as you try to count the orgasms he’s given you on purpose. “Like, it’s just not a big deal, you know?”

“My darling.” Sanji bends down to stub his cigarette out on the tile floor and walks towards you, leaning his body into yours as he places one hand behind you on the counter. “Don’t you think you deserve better than that?”

“Well sure…” you trail off as his body comes closer and closer to yours and you can feel the fire of longing radiating off him, almost creating its own atmosphere around the two of you.

He bites his lower lip, dragging it through his teeth, as his gaze flits between your eyes and your mouth. He leans in slowly, his lips almost brushing yours, and you don’t stop him—you don’t even so much as turn your head and you wait for the faint beginnings of a kiss, when he veers away just before making contact, instead letting his cheek graze yours as he moves to whisper in your ear.

“Your pleasure should always come first, you know,” he murmurs as one leg slowly slots between your knees, pushing them apart slightly. “You shouldn’t accept anything less than that.”

“Let me guess. Next you’ll tell me you’re the kind of man who would make sure I’m always taken care of, right? Is that where this is going?”

“Why don’t you tell me where it’s going, ma chérie.”

“A-alright, stop being a fuckin’ perv, Sanji.” You place your hands on his surprisingly firm chest and push him away, feeling at once annoyed and deeply, unsettlingly aroused.

He makes no attempts to stop you, just snorts a quiet laugh as he watches you storm out of the kitchen and into the dining area, and you roll your eyes at the fact he’s probably getting off on your tempestuousness. You stand behind the counter, hoping and wishing that someone would wander in, freshly drunk from the bar a few blocks down, begging for a hot coffee so at least you’d have something to occupy your body and mind for a while. Instead, the room remains empty and cold, accentuated by the low mechanical whirring of the ice maker behind you and the tinny rhythm of the royalty-free music playing softly over the one good speaker at the cash register. 

As the ice maker roars to life and noisily drops perfect little cubes into the bin, you sense a warm presence behind you, and a hand settles on your shoulder, gripping you gently. Long fingers reach up to brush your jaw, soft fingertips moving up to caress the apple of your cheek. 

“We’re all alone, huh?” Sanji’s voice lacks its usual repulsive air of desperation, replaced by a honeyed sweetness and a whiskey-smooth confidence you only heard when he talked about his cooking.

Without thinking too much about it, you reach up and place your hand on his, stroking the tops of his fingers, surprised by the silkiness of his pale skin. “But Sanji, we’re open.”

“I don’t think anyone would mind if we closed up to take a break. Do you?” He leans forward, brushing your hair away from your neck, and warm lips meet your chilled skin, sending a shiver through your core. The tip of his tongue traces along the delicate flesh of your neck, and he leaves a trail of gentle kisses back down the path he made.

“We are—ah—entitled to a meal break, I suppose.”

“I certainly know I’m hungry,” he groans into your shoulder as he nips at you through your shirt. “Why don’t you go wait in the kitchen for me, beautiful, and I’ll lock up?”

You nod, unable to readily conjure up any affirmative response and force it out of your mouth as you find yourself suddenly set adrift in a sea of passion. You meander into the kitchen and lean back against a metal worktable, gripping it tightly, wondering what in the hell is wrong with you—how it is that this curly-browed cook, in all his usual shamelessness, was suddenly able to enchant you, place you under some wicked spell of sexual depravity that has your heart racing and your core pulsing as you anxiously wait for him to return.

You glance out the small window in the kitchen door and see the lights in the restaurant dim slightly. The door swings open a moment later and Sanji’s gaze immediately settles on you, never leaving once as he crosses the kitchen to where you stand nervously against the counter. His hands settle at your waist as though they’ve always been meant to be there. “Shall we pick up where we left off, lovely?”

“Sanji, wait I—I need to be clear,” you stammer as you gingerly place your hands on his shoulders, feeling a little wave of pleasure roll through you as you notice how sinewy he feels under his stiff button-up shirt. “If we—if we do this…it doesn’t mean anything, okay? Not a damned thing.”

He leaves a soft, patronizing kiss on your forehead. “Whatever you need to tell yourself, darling.”

Without any further exchange, Sanji claims your mouth with a fierce urgency, feeding from the sweetness of your lips as though he was trying to absorb your very essence into his cells. His tongue gently pushes past your lips and dances and curls with yours, lingering flavors of nicotine and black tea filling your mouth, as his hands move up from your waist and push under your shirt, his palms exploring the soft expanse of your form.

“You’re so warm,” he moans into your mouth, “so perfect. I could do this forever.”

He intoxicates you with more long, drugging kisses before finally pulling away, a frenzied look of desire glimmering in his icy eyes. There is something in his gaze, in his touch, in his in effortlessly sensual kisses that has you ready to let him defile you right here in the worn-down kitchen, to bend over and let him take you right in the walk-in freezer, to have him utterly ruin you among the containers of pre-made spaghetti sauce and expired salmon.

He lowers his hands back down your body and tugs at the waistband of your khakis. “Take these off for me, my sweet?”

“Yeah, sure, of course,” you mumble through your delirium as you quickly unbutton and unzip, struggling with unsteady hands as you find yourself unable pull them off over your shoes.

“Here, let me help you, darling.” Sanji lowers himself to the floor and strips the cheap trousers off your body, a quiet gasp leaving his lips as his gaze scans the length of your exposed legs. “Fuck, you’re more beautiful than I ever dreamed.”

His hands settle on your thighs and slowly slide up, moving outwards to grip the plush curves of your hips. He carefully slips a finger under the waistband of your panties on either side and unhurriedly slides them down—he seems to know he doesn’t require your permission anymore, as you silently urge him to finish undressing you. You’re far too hazy already, starting to lose yourself to the debauched atmosphere in the warm, quiet kitchen, to notice him quickly slip your underwear into his pants pocket.

He stands and helps you up on the metal prep table, and you feel it move slightly under your weight as he settles you. He plies you with more sweet kisses, more meditations on your exquisite beauty, as his hand slides between your legs. Sanji lets out a whimper of pleasure as he glides his fingers along your slit, and you become shamefully aware of just how soaked you’ve become from your little tryst.

“Oh my darling, my beautiful, incredible darling,” he whispers as he gently begins to press against your entrance. “You feel like silk—like the softest flower petals.”

His long fingers slide inside you, and a sigh leaves your lips; his name drifts in the air between little gasps and moans. It feels so perfectly wrong to let him fuck you with those slender fingers, to use him for the pleasure you were so often denied, but the look of absolute euphoria on his face tells you he is more than willing to provide you whatever it was that your desired.

“You’re so wet for me, it’s incredible,” he groans as he slowly pumps in and out of you, watching you with a sordid fascination, enjoying every furrow of your brow and every heave of your chest as you begin to breathe in short, sharp gasps. He moves his wrist a little faster, crooking his fingers up to stroke that bundle of nerves inside you. “Does that feel nice, my sweet? Is this what you needed?”

“S-so good, Sanji,” you stutter as little waves of pleasure drift through your lower half, your muscles twitching with every thrust of his arm, and a warm tension begins to build deep within. “S’perfect.”

“Mm, I think I can do better, though,” he grins as he kisses you again, his teeth dragging against your lower lip. “May I taste you, my darling?”

“Please?” The word comes out in a whimper, and you don’t even mind how pathetic you must sound—you just need his mouth on you this instant.

“With great pleasure, beautiful.” Sanji languidly pumps his fingers in and out of your dripping cunt a little longer before he finally withdraws. He fishes a cigarette out of his pocket, touching his slick-coated fingertips to the end of it before placing it his mouth, getting the taste of you on his lips for the first time. He sighs as he lights it, taking a long, slow drag from the cigarette before carefully handing it to you. “Here, my sweet—hold this for me.”

“Sanji, I’m—I’m not thinking straight,” you shakily respond, carefully taking the cigarette from him and grasping it between trembling fingers. “I don’t wanna end up burning myself.”

“Don’t worry, darling,” he assures you as drops to his knees in front of you, “you’re going to cum on my tongue long before that’s out.”

He kisses up your leg, starting at your knee and moving up the plush inside of your thigh, until he reaches his paradise. He closes his eyes and breathes in deeply, a guttural groan rumbling in his ribcage as he fills his lungs with your scent.

“You smell even better up close like this,” he murmurs against your cunt as he kisses and sucks at your swollen lips. “This is like heaven, darling, and I never want to leave.”

His soft fingertips part you, and he licks one long, low stripe up your cunt before fucking you with his tongue, moaning as he darts it in and out of your pulsing hole, collecting your slick on it and greedily swallowing. “I want to drink every last drop of you, darling, you taste sweeter than honey.”

Your eyes flutter shut as he moves up to your aching, needy clit, and he laps and sucks at it, the tip of his tongue swirling over you, as he revels in every little moan and gasp, your noises of delight only spurring him on further to devour your pussy with the hunger of a starving man. Every flick of his tongue sends little bolts of lightning down your thighs, and you feel yourself slowly but surely losing control of yourself to this perverted menace of a man, who showers you with a kind of reverence that you’ve never felt before. You grip a handful of his blonde hair between the fingers of your free hand and press yourself into his mouth as your climax takes you by surprise, a feeling of heated bliss hitting you hard and fast, your body tensing and coiling, then releasing with a shuddering explosion. You cry out as he continues to bury his face in your pulsing cunt, his tongue never ceasing its movements over your throbbing clit as wave after wave of pleasure engulfs you, and your keens and wails of ecstasy are so loud, so powerful, that you don’t even notice the squeak of the kitchen door swinging open.

“Hey! Anyone back here?”

“What the fuck?” you stammer as you see a familiar man appear before you, and you hurriedly stub out Sanji’s still-lit cigarette that you hold between your shaking fingers. The local cab driver, Zoro, is standing in the kitchen, hands on his hips, bulging biceps threatening to pop the stitching on his shirtsleeves, his mouth slightly agape at the sight before him.

“How did you get in here?” Sanji shouts as he stands up from between your thighs, and quickly tries to cover your exposed cunt with a soggy dishtowel. “We’re closed right now!”

“Says ‘24 hours’ on the sign. By the way, I think your door’s messed up, had a helluva time gettin’ it open.” He pauses as his eye settles on you and he studies your face; after a moment, a lecherous grin begins to make its way across his lips. “Hey…I know you.”

“How the hell do you know my precious flower, moss-head?” Sanji takes a step towards him, his chin still glistening with your juices and his saliva.

“Uh, how do you guys know each other, exactly…?” you ask quietly, though your question is promptly ignored.

“Your ‘precious flower’ got a ride home from me the other night.” Zoro licks his lips and winks his good eye at you, as his gaze drifts towards your mostly-exposed lower half. “Gave me a helluva ride, too.”

“Zoro, shut up!” you hiss.

“Is that true?” Sanji wipes his mouth on his sleeve as he turns to you, a horrorstruck expression on his face, and he takes a step towards the table. “Did you—did you fuck this creep?”

“Sure did,” Zoro answers for you, moving in front of you to block Sanji from reaching you. “We had a little exchange of goods and services in the back of my cab, if you know what I mean.”

“In his cab?” His voice is nearly a screech now, his whole body shaking as he stares at you incredulously. “Really? His fucking cab?”

“Sanji, it’s none of your damned business!” you shout around Zoro’s side. “You’re not my boyfriend!”

“Yeah,” Zoro nods, “you heard the slut, stay out of it.”

“Zoro!”

“How dare you speak to my sweet darling that way,” Sanji seethes through gritted teeth as he moves closer to the cabbie. “I’m gonna beat the shit out of you!”

Zoro steps forward, pressing his forehead against Sanji’s, grinning wildly. “I’d like to see you try, curly-browed idiot. I can speak to that little whore however I want.”

“Out back,” Sanji spits as he sinks his index finger into Zoro’s chest. “Right now.”

“Fine!”

“Hey—try not to get lost on the way out.”

“I’m gonna kick your fuckin’ ass, cook!”

Zoro stomps after Sanji as the heavy door to the alley slams open, the handle leaving a deep dent in the drywall behind it, and you watch, dumbfounded, as it slowly drifts shut behind them and their curse-filled tirades begin to fade into the cold night.

“Holy fuckin’ shit,” you mutter as you hop down from the counter. You nearly topple over as you pull your pants back on, simultaneously scrambling for your phone, frantically fumbling for the video call button while you zip up your khakis.

“Mmm, hey. What’s up, baby?” Ace answers in darkness after a few rings, and a light clicks on beside him as he situates his camera on his chiseled face—even in the middle of the night, he looks devastatingly handsome. “It’s late, ain’t it?”

“Hey Ace, you got a minute?”

“Oh shit, you comin’ over?” He lazily pans his phone down his body, past his washboard abs, stopping once you have a view of his half-hard cock that lays against his steely thigh. “I can be ready whenever you are.”

“I’ll be by in a little bit,” you huff as you jog towards the back door, already hearing the subdued sounds of shouting and scuffling in the alley. “You gotta see this shit first.”

[cyancherub]

slimeball alley collab coming to u soon featuring the most foolish and insane crack/smut fics u ever did see

[ryndicate]

Double Down ⨳ Yoshida, Denji

“Didn’t know you were into that stuff.”

warnings: fem body/pronouns, nudes posted without permission, drug use, exhibition, creampie, videos taken with permission, stepcest, infidelity, masturbation, handjob, some spit mentions, premature ejac, implied fuckery, implied theft, if there's more i am just too wacked out to see it so lemme know!

event: @bastardblvd 's slimeball alley collab !! my first submission of who knows how many to come, im gonna try to not go crazy with it, promise

notes: didn't realize until it was done that I could've made it much more slimy but its okay. We'll get 'em next time babes 😩 this idea is expanding on a little blurb I put in cassie's inbox once, i included it in the fic itself with some itty bitty changes

By expanding, you are consenting to viewing adult/dark content, and all warnings listed above. 18+ Minors DNI

Blog Rules/DNI

Your fist slams on the bathroom door. “I swear to god, Denji! Where the fuck did you get those! Delete them now!”

“I already told you, Power found them online!” Your stepbrother yells back through the door, keeping his weight against the handle so that you can’t force your way in.

“You’re full of shit you fucking perv! You took them off my phone or something.”

“Wanna fucking bet? The real perv is that prettyboy bastard you call baby,” Denji sneers back, yelping as you get a good shove in on the creaking wood.

Your efforts to break the bathroom door pause. “The hell’re you talking about?”

“I told you he was trouble the day you two met. What—you think I was lying?”

You growl under your breath at the barenecked taunt in Denji’s voice. Yeah he told you, one time before he got high out of his mind. The only reason you even met Yoshida Hirofumi was because he hooked your stepbrother up a couple times, and you begged to tag along once. That situation ended with your brother counting stars on his buddy’s ceiling while you saw them on the backs of your eyelids with the guy’s lips wrapped around your clit. 

One thing led to another, and that “prettyboy bastard” became your boyfriend. He’s a bit of an ass, but Yoshida’s also sweet and funny, doesn’t roll his eyes at your music choices, doesn’t bat an eye when you want to go out with your friends, and is full of sexy, smirky sass that makes him so fun to be around. Sure, you sent him some photos, but he wouldn’t have put them out anywhere.

Your anger deflates, but your indignance does not. You step away from the bathroom door. “He’s got nothing to do with this.”

Denji throws the door open with a toothy grin, repeating himself. “You wanna bet?”

“You know what, yeah!” you snap at him, crossing your arms as he leans in the doorway, still looking smug. 

“Your boyfriend put your pics up on OnlyFans, and he’s using the money to pay for his xanny. If I’m right, you two gotta upload a video. Together,” Denji states, his eyebrows furrowed in twisted delight that makes you sneer at him.

“You’re disgusting!”

“Yeah? Tell me what you get if you win.”

Caught up in his childish bullshit, you push at his shoulder. “You gotta start an OnlyFans if you’re wrong, which you are. And you gotta wear lingerie.”

His smirk full drops at that, and he glares at you, cheeks darkerning. “Now who’s a perv.”

“This whole shit was your idea!”

“Lingerie?”

“How is wearing lingerie worse than telling your stepsister to fuck and post a video about it?!”

“Shut up!”

“And since we’re on the topic, I swear to god if you don’t stop taking my shit out of the laundry I’m gonna tell that redheaded lady at the DMV that she’s at the very top of your fap list.”

His blush deepens and he palms your face backwards in a light push. “The fuck she is. Shut up.”

“Yeah well, me and the thin fucking walls in this apartment would have to disagree.”

“Go find your boyfriend.”

“‘M gonna.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck him,” you hiss in barely supressed rage, gripping your boyfriend’s phone so tight you’re disappointed when it doesn’t crack. 

You’d waited for his high to hit him and let him drift off before going through his phone—what’s the point of asking him outright if it’s not true, right? No reason to stir the pot. But your stomach had dropped with unease when the account site was in his search history; you tried to brush it off as maybe he gets off to a set of camgirls, but the moment you saw the login info presaved—as in frequent entry—you began to forget the bet altogether.

Now your jaw is clenched, seething as you scroll through every racy picture you ever sent him. Each have thousands of views, hundreds of comments and jeez—so many subscribers. The heat of betrayal simmers through you. Your jaw drops at the total that’s set to drop into his account at the end of the week and resist the urge to slap Yoshida awake, but instead you set about trying to change the banking and login info, only to get halted by an infowall. Frustrated, you slip off the bed and call your stepbrother, edging into Yoshida’s bathroom so you don’t wake him up.

“You were right, and you fucking knew it, didn’t you? You set me up.” you hiss into the device as soon as he picks up with a mumbled ‘sup. You can hear voices and music in the background, paired with light explosions. You assume he’s out with his friends, probably gaming like usual. 

“You didn’t have to agree. Wait—” there’s the sound of the phone moving around and suddenly the music is gone. “Does that mean you’re gonna do it?”

“That’s besides the point, Denji!”

“Oh fuck, you are!”

“Chill your boner,” you snap, “‘m not gonna do it unless you help me!”

“Help you? What, like you want me to hold the camera or something?”

“Denji, I swear to god—”

“I’m kidding, jeez.”

“I can’t change the account info. They’re my pictures, and they’re already out there! He shouldn’t get to make money off of me.”

“Wait, so you want to keep the account?” He asks curiously. You hear a door slamming and wonder if he’s still moving, or if his friends are.

“Dude, we’ll have rent and anything else covered for the whole month with a single week’s drop from this thing. I don’t see a reason not to. I can quit Mcdonald’s!”

“Shit, for real? Lemme talk to Denki, ‘m pretty sure he knows a guy.”

“Thank you,” you coo into the phone.

“Yeah, yeah, just make sure you pay up.” You can hear his pervy smile, and you grumble a sulky fine at him.

“Ok. But he’s gotta do it soon. It pays out in a couple of days.”

“I’ll give him some cash to see if he can do it tonight. Don’t see why he’d say no—" Denji sounds a lot further away from the phone now, "—Oi! Don't bro! Give it back."

A familiar voice purrs into the receiver and you roll your eyes. "Heyyy, princess. You with that Yoshida guy still or are we allowed to hang now?"

"Byeee, Kiri. Tell Kat hi f'me." You hang up with a smile and leave the bathroom, glaring at your supposed boyfriend still sleeping. You never heard him say he was working and you always kinda wondered where he was getting his cash, but you always just thought he was dealing or something. Not the kind of think you ask about. You obviously should’ve asked.

You crawl into his lap and begin sucking on his exposed throat, admiring the sharp lines, the bob of his adam’s apple as thick lashes flutter open. 

“Mmm,” Yoshida moans. “Damn, was I out long?”

“Nah,” you hum, slipping your fingers up his shirt, smoothing over his waistline. “Got bored without you, that’s all.”

“Yeah, baby?” He grins up at you, dark eyes fuzzed out and sultry, and his hands come up to settle on your hips, easing you into a slow grind. “Wanna do something?”

“Mm. Maybe,” you tease softly, pushing his shirt up his chest and leaning down to wrap your lips around his nipples. He groans at the warm, slick suction, arching into your touch. 

“Fuck, baby,” he breathes out, his cock swelling beneath you. 

“Maybe I wanna do something…different.”

Yoshida grins up at you, half-lidded. “Yeah? Like what?”

Your nails make pink lines down his chest as you lean in to whisper in his ear. “What if you fucked me, and we let some people watch?”

His fingers dig into the fat of your waist, his dick thumping beneath you. “Anyone I know?”

Yoshida’s pupils have overtaken his coal irises, and you give him an inviting smile. “No one specific. I was thinking more like…a video or something. I wanna be able to see it later.”

“Holy fuck, baby. That’s sexy,” Yoshida grins up at you. “Didn’t know you were into that stuff.”

“Me either,” you breath softly, rocking yourself over his covered erection.

You’re left to yelp as he displaces you from your seat on his lap and pulls you out of the bed by your wrist with a wide smirk. “Come on.”

“Wait, where are we going?”

“Don’t worry baby, I just wanna pick something up at the Malmart first.”

“Fine, I guess,” you pout at him and his smirk only grows.

“‘S okay, baby. I’ll give you something too.”

“This is not what I meant when I said video, Hirofumi!” you gasp out. Your fingers are splayed out on the hood of his car as you try to stay upright. “Someone could actually see us!”

"If you don't wanna be seen, you gotta cum. Cause I'm not stopping til you cum."

"Fuck, fuck please, just hurry up!" You plead, half your words caught between whines and whimpers as he pounds into you from behind, your skirt flipped over your back.

"You think I'm not fucking you like I mean it?" There's so much smile in his voice that you want to call him on his bullshit for once, but the solid smacking of his hips into yours, the head of his dick pressing as deep as it can go with every thrust quickly makes you forget what you're snapping at him for.

"Just‐just, fucking make cum– ‘fumi!" You're desperately telling yourself you don't want to be seen. It's the middle of the night, so even here, parked under the one of the many lightposts that don’t work in grimetown's 24-hour walmart parking lot, the risk of anyone seeing is slim.

But not zero. Especially with the light from his phone camera shining down on your exposed lower half. You’re like a slutty beacon for whoever might be looking this way.

"I'm working on it baby, you gotta relax." His fingers slide around your waist, brushing past your clit and forcing a frustrated whimper past your lips at the neglect, to drag them through the slick dripping obscenely from your pussy lips. It's dripping to the rusted black hood, making it glisten. He aims the camera down at them before moving it back to the way your pussy clings to his cock. "You're so fucking wet for this, you'd think the whole thing was your idea. Well, most of it was."

You don't answer him, trying to work yourself back on him, chasing that fluttering heat twisting itself tighter and tigher with each passing second.

"Good girl, look at you. Fuck, look how bad you want—"

"Oi! Get the fuck out of here before I—"

Your whole body locks up at the tired but authoritative voice that rings across the lot.

Your boyfriend calls back. "C'mon man, have a heart. Let me finish her off and I'll give you a look." Except his last syllable staggers off with a groan, broken with a laugh as his grip on your hips tightens to a bruising pressure. The vice grip of your cunt has him looking down to sees your juices gush around the girth of his cock, dripping down your thighs to dirty the hood of his car even more. The sight pushes pushes him over and he calls out again, his voice tight but smug.

"Nevermind, we're done here."

He gets one last shot of his cum dripping out of you before closing out the livefeed.

“It’s like four in the morning,” Denji grumbles, rubbing one of his eyes as he cracks his bedroom open further at the sight of you. “Thought you were Power or somethin’, jeez.”

Denji blinks the blur from his eyes, zeroing in on your screen, and you just about hear his pupils expanding. He pulls a shaky inhale and you roll your eyes.

“Done. Bet over, and here’s your damn proof,” you grumble right back, slamming your phone against his chest and shoving your way into his bedroom to flop down into his bed. It had taken over an hour to convince Yoshida back to his place and get him to fool around enough for him to pass out and you to sneak back home.

"Also Kiri wants you to call him back. He's mad you hung up on him."

A small grin curls your lips but you don't respond, wiggling deeper into his mattress until you're comfortable.

He throws himself down in the bed next to you. “Turn on my speakers.” 

“Or you could just wear headphones, you freak.”

“Nah. Turn ‘em on.”

With an exaggerated sigh, you stretch out to reach up to his desk, turning on the bluetooth speakers that he usually uses to be a nuisance when he’s smoking. “If your dad was home, I’d kill you for this.”

“You’re not even breaking up with him, are you?” Denji chortles, ignoring your bickering. His eyes are glued to the screen as he shoves a hand into his loosened shorts. “What the fuck, you guys were outside?”

You shrug. The video’s only been up for a couple hours and it already has triple the views and donations of all the photos Yoshida has put up so far. “Looks like he’s gonna be making me lots of money, so why not? It’s the least he could do to pay me back.”

Your stepbrother doesn’t answer you, his breathing getting heavier. You close your eyes and sigh as the sounds wet sounds and your own whiny moaning starts bouncing off the walls of his room, wondering to yourself if you really sound like that or if part of you was exaggerating because of the camera. The mattress creaks every now and then as his hips jump, his arm brushing your side as he grinds into his own fist. 

You roll to face him, taking in the sound of his stuttered breaths, the muted slick sound of his fist pumping in his shorts. “So what about this gets you so riled up?”

Denji groans, stomach rippling where his shirt is pulled up around his midsection. “I’nno, it’s hot, isn’t it?”

You keep prodding, “What is? Yoshida? Or me?”

He gives a small whine that has your pulse picking up in sick interest, so you continue. “Was Power really the one to find it? Or…you were subbed to the account, weren’t you Denji?”

“Mm- maybe?”

“Shit,” you whisper to yourself, listening to your own voice begging to cum, shifting your weight onto your arm so you can look at him. A strange curiosity has taken over your body. He looks wrecked but his eyes are still on the screen. “Denji, look at me.”

Your body tingles as his eyes tear towards you, but he’s still got a hand around himself, hidden from your eyes. “Can I touch it?”

“You wanna what?” he moans, just barely, teeth digging into his lip.

“Can I jerk you off?”

You’re a little surprised when he actually hesitates. You’ve tolerated it all this time; as much as he pervs out on you, and your stuff, yet somehow he’s got a little crumb of morality left in there somewhere. And right now…you wanna kill it.

“My panties, my pictures…is this really any different?” you ask softly, sweetly, as you run with this electric current, placing your hand over his covered groin. You grin as his hand immediately goes slack at your touch and slips out of his shorts, and you get to feel for the first time how hard he is, rubbing over the smooth fabric, feeling out the shape of him.

“I mean…I guess not.” He sucks in a breath as you grip him over his shorts and give a couple experimental strokes. “B-but what about—?”

Denji’s head drops back to the pillows with a groan, phone in a death grip as you tug his waistband down, his dick slapping free. It’s pretty and slender, flushed deep red.

“What about what?”

“What about prettyboy, huh?” He finally gets it out as you spit in your hand and take him up again, stroking him steadily from base to tip, squeezing at the top with a gentle twist of your wrist. Yoshida always seemed to like it, seems like he does too. 

“That’s what you’re worried about? Not the whole stepsister thing?” You shrug. You’re still stung about Yoshida’s betrayal, so this feels like a little bit of retribution. A little bit. You still need to find more ways to make him pay first, but this is a good start. “Yeah, he’s my boyfriend, but ‘s not like you and me are dating, Denji. It’s a handjob. What’re you gonna do, marry me?”

Denji splutters and his dick throbs in your hand. “Don- Don’t say stupid shit!”

You coo at him and his lips part, panting hard as you work him faster. 

“What– haa, what if it wasn’t just a handjob? What then?” Denji gives a low moan as you settle over his lower thighs so you can gently cup his balls. They seem to tighten under your touch, before he relaxes and he tries to look at you. 

“What, like my mouth or something?” you ask playfully, leaning over and showing him your tongue, letting a strand of spit drip down to his dick.

A litany of curses tumblr from his mouth as Denji squeezes his eyes shut, fingers twisting into the pillow beneath his head as his cock jerks and shoots a load of hot sticky white into your palm, getting smeared down his throbbing shaft as you slowly work him through his high until only a couple dribbles get pressed out by a final pass of your thumb over his slit.

“Wasn’t expecting you to finish already.” You wipe your hand off on his comforter and try to ignore the throbbing in your panties. You feel like you can still imagine the slick from earlier tonight seeping out of you, but it’s as if it’s no longer enough.

“Holy fuck,” he mumbles under his breath, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes as he calms his breathing enough to raise himself up on his forearms. He watches you as you take your phone and flop down next to him. “I didn’t even get to see the rest of the video.”

“It’s online now, freak. You can watch it whenever.”

“Yeah...” 

You’re too busy trying to go through the account settings to notice the way he’s eyeing up your thighs; he hasn’t even put his dick away yet. 

“Hey,” he mutters softly, ignoring your glare when he puts a hand on your thighs and pulls them open. “If you can touch me, does that mean I get to touch you?”

Your pulse jumps and you try to keep your true thoughts hidden as you hide back behind your phone. “I guess that’s fair. If you wanted to.”

You can hear the click of Denji’s throat as he swallows, and you can’t stop the low whimper as his calloused fingers brush your inner thigh, right at the edge of your panties. 

They’re warm as they brush over the seat of your panties, timid but curious as they explore the surface, stroking over the tempting warmth and wet seeping through the thin fabric. A bolt of pleasure bursts and has your gut clenching as he swirls over your clothed clit

“H-hey, wait,” you say suddenly, nerves getting the better of you as you try to make sense of Denji taking control of your body. “It got switch but this isn’t my banking info. Is it yours?” You flip the screen towards him, and his brown eyes squint in the pale blue light.

“Uh, nah, that’s not mine.”

You mewl as he pulls your panties to the side and traces a finger through your folds, delicate, hungry. “Who did you say– mm, h-hacked the account for me?”

“I told you. M’friend Denki, his buddy did it. That purple-haired guy who works at the smoke shop.”

“The one wi—” you suck in a breath as he sinks his index finger into you. “With the tattoos?”

“Yeah him,” Denji mumbles, hardly paying attention to your words. He’s grinding against the bed as he pushes his middle in alongside it, imagining the tight squeeze around his dick instead.

Your groan is part pleasure, part dismay as you realize just who he’s talking about. “Oh fuck me.”

Denji bullies his way between your thighs in an instant.

“N-no, Den– that’s not what I meant!”

[sassy-stupid]

Sky High

Pairing

partydrugdealer!Sero x f!reader

18+ only please

Smut

Word count

3.1k

Content warnings

drugs (mostly weed but theres a mention of unnamed party drugs), dubcon (reader is under influence of drugs (weed)), fingering, oral (f receiving), vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, creampies

Everyone is this fic is 18+

Summary

You've never done drugs before and none other slimefest's very own dealer offers to show you the ropes.

This is my entry to the slimeball summer collab! I got the prompt "festivals"!! I'm super excited about this since it's my first collab but I'm also very nervous haha. @bastardblvd

"C'mon! It'll be fun!" Your friend's voice was loud and yet you could barely hear it over the murmur of the crowd.

You and your little group of friends had gotten to the first annual edition of slimetown's very own slimeball summerfest early. The original reasoning had been to get a nice place to pitch the tent. The "new and improved" reasoning, according to your friends, was to buy party drugs before their regular dealer started running low.

You'd assumed that was because the price would go up at that point but festival drug dealing wasn't exactly your area of expertise.

"Fine, but you guys gotta watch me okay? I don't want to be the person waking up in a hospital without any memories of their so called 'fun time'," you conceded, letting yourself be pulled along to a neat looking tent.

"This is the drug tent?" you voice your doubt as one of your friends tries to knock on the tent entrance.

She scoffs at you. "Yes it is, why don't you shout it out a little louder. I'm not sure every security guard here heard," she sneers and you hope the drugs will put her into a better mood. "See this?" your other friend taps on the "s" taped on the tent door. "That's our guy's business card."

You snort, the guy didn't even use ductape and the flimsy cellophane tape was already peeling off the tent fabric before the festival had even properly started. Before you can point any of that out to your friends though, the little zipper opens and out comes a lanky looking man who seems about the same age as you.

"As much as I appreciate my clientele ladies, can you either keep it down or come in?" he speaks, moving aside and gesturing you into his tent. The grin on his face friendly and inviting.

You attempt to follow your friends through the small opening but he stops you once you're in front of him. "Haven't seen your face before," he says, and you admit to yourself that his attention on you isn't unwelcome. He's attractive, lean muscles, tan skin and the sluttiest little waist you'd ever seen.

"Yeah, this is not usually my scene, I'm just here for them." You gesture towards your friends as you try to follow them once more. He lets you this time, the inviting grin having slipped into more of an amused smirk.

"I knew it, would've recognized a face like yours," he speaks. Both your friends shoot you looks, one distinctly more annoyed than the other. "And don't you worry. My customer's comfort is of utmost importance to me, I'll help you enjoy yourself." He shoots you a wink and your face heats up, your mind can't help but wander to the possible implications of his words.

"Sero, we didn't come here for you to flirt with (y/n)," your annoyed friend spoke up. She was waving around some cash and the man in front of you took the bait.

"Always so impatient," he says, getting up to rummage through his wares "I've got some new stuff you two may like, wouldn't recommend it for your friend though." He pulls out a bag with what, out of context, would've looked just like candy. Your friend hands him the wad of cash.

"Pleasure doing business with you two, as always, now why don't you two wait outside for a second while I'll teach your friend here the ropes," he requests, you're about to protest but he continues before you can, "awfully crowded in this little tent."

You beg your friends to stay through facial expressions but the fuckers just up and leave, your favourite of the two quickly adding on that they'll wait for you outside.

"So, how much of a first timer are you really?" You know he's talking about drugs but the way he suggestively wiggles his eyebrows implies something else and you realize he's teasing you. Your eyebrows furrow and you're about to give him a piece of your mind when he bursts out laughing. "Sorry, sorry. I always like to joke around to get the edge off a little," he explains. "Though, I have other stuff for that as well." He pulls out a bag of something, it's clearly not the same stuff he just sold your friends but you had no clue what it could be.

He inspects the look on your face and whistles. "Damn, that much of a first timer huh? No worries, I'll talk you through it all" his voice was incredibly smooth and it brought the heat back to your face, you hope he mistakes it for embarrassment.

"Do you always flirt this much? Is that why my friend was shooting me nasty looks?" you ask, trying to deflect. It only causes him to laugh more.

"It's a sales tactic I'm familiar with," he says shooting you another wink. "And not much of a friend, that one. If she's that upset over a flirty comment from her dealer? I can't even imagine the level of jealousy."

"But, you didn't enter my little paradise here to gossip. Let me let you in on how things work around here," he starts, and he does. He tells you all about the drug he's about to sell you, some type of weed called wedding cake? You liked the name if anything. How much it'll cost you and how to smoke it, even offers to show you.

"Can't have my cute little customer bumbling about, not even knowing how to use the stuff I sold her," he explains, nodding in approval as you hold the freshly rolled blunt. "Now let's light it up and I'll show you exactly how to do it." He moves real close to you now, and true to his word he teaches you. The proximity flusters you beyond belief and you think whatever you're smoking right now isn't exactly keeping you clear headed either. You catch yourself looking at his lips more than once and you might not realize it but he catches you too, it makes him chuckle.

"All right, that's enough for now, trust me on that," he tells you. Somewhere deep down you're happy he's doing all of this for you though, makes you giggle. His hand ruffles your hair in response and he speaks again, "let's get you back out to your friends, unless you wanna keep me company?" You're not sure if it's an actual offer or a joke but you laugh either way, already turning towards the exit to find your friends.

You leave the tent to find no one waiting for you, except for a small piece of paper stuck to Sero's tape on the tent entrance. "Hot guy, be back later. Stay safe," it read. Tears well in your eyes. They promised they'd look after you, that's why you agreed to all this in the first place. Now you were all alone, high off your ass, on festival grounds in what is known as the sleaziest town around.

"Aw, come now baby, don't cry." Sero's voice startles you out of your little moment, you'd forgotten he was right behind you. "I'd never leave a cute little customer like you in need," he promises, though you're not entirely sure what the promise entails. He gestures for you to follow him.

Maybe the weed is clouding your mind but you do find yourself following the relative stranger without further questioning, though luckily he comes out with an answer to the question in your mind.

"I'm taking you to my private tent, it's roomier," he explains, his arm around the small of your back now. You lean into it, his warmth feeling nice against your skin.

The crowd had grown since you guys had entered the tent and now there were people everywhere, you were starting to get anxious despite the high you were experiencing. Luckily for you, your ever vigilant dealer noticed.

"Baby, I'm here. You're okay," he says as his thumb strokes your cheek. You think about how normally you'd never let anyone this close but everything about him is just so nice and warm. You lean into his touch entirely and a deep chuckle escapes him. "Want me to really take care of you?" He asks, eyes flitting down to your lips and back up. Yours do the same, except you struggle to pull them back up. You nod nonetheless and he's on you instantly.

You'd kissed plenty of people before but Sero felt different, you wanted to consider that it might be the weed but all you could think of right now was him. The way his lips molded to yours. The way one of his hands dragged up your back and into your hair while the other moved down towards your ass. The way his tongue slipped past your lips and played with yours.

You couldn't suppress the moan that leaves you and and he groans. "Oh aren't you just the cutest, come on, we aren't far." He's pulling you along again before you can complain and you find yourself staring at his ass as he pulls you through a final part of the crowd.

You reach his tent, it does look bigger than the one you just came from but it's placed right in between a few more tents and there's people everywhere. In a moment of clarity you ask him, "but won't people hear?"

The laugh it pulls out of him is attractive but does nothing to ease your worry, and his words certainly don't either. "Sweetness, trust me, that is gonna be the last thing on your mind in a couple of minutes." As he speaks his guiding hand on your lower back slips slightly lower again but you can't find it in you to worry about it anymore, in fact it all feels kind of fun.

So instead you giggle.

The inside of sero's tent is nice, you didn't peg him as the type of guy to decorate his festival tent but apparently business has been good for him. You fawn at one of the cute pillows adorning his mattress. It was a bright yellow and you nearly squealed in excitement as you felt how fuzzy the outside of it was.

"You liking the place?" He asked, the hand that was guiding you from the small of your back had moved to you shoulder and was now pushing you to sit on his mattress. You turn around to face him, looking up at him from your place near the ground  and nod enthusiastically. "Good, I pride myself on my sense for interior design."

He's sinking down next to you on the mattress and only now do you realize it's an air mattress, his weight propping the side you're sitting on up. You stop yourself from giggling once more.

"C'mere pretty girl, I know you're just itching to get touched." His voice dropped into a seductive tone and you notice he's right, ever since he'd kissed you you'd wanted more.

You're nodding along as he reaches out to your face, pulling you into another kiss that feels like the centre of your universe. Though that universe expands the second Sero's hand slips into your pants.

Every place he'd touched you had felt hot so far but the sensation of his hand on your pussy nearly drove you wild.

"S-sero," you managed between frantic kissing. In response he just hummed, not letting your lips stray far as his fingers started playing with you.

"What is it pretty girl? Enjoying yourself? I knew you'd look even prettier like this," he says, his hand picking up speed. Your hands are clutching both his hair and his shirt, he's making you feel like you're floating and you're desperately holding on to something.

"Sero I can't-" you interrupt yourself with a moan, you can't keep yourself quiet. His touch feels divine, silencing yourself would be blasphemy and yet his unoccupied hand hands you the same pillow you'd been admiring before.

"Bite it princess, you wouldn't want everyone to hear now would you?" His words feel like they're meant to tease you but right now, you'd agree with anything he told you. And so you bite down, the fabric feels weird between your teeth. As you do so, he picks up the pace, fingers dancing around inside you as if they're as desperate to please as you are.

And please they do, in Sero's eyes you're practically begging him to let you cum. He's never been one to deny a pretty girl.

Before you know it your pants are off and you underwear is pushed to the side. You hardly even registered him moving you onto your back. You certainly did register his breath on your cunt though.

His tongue made quick work of sucking on your clit and his fingers never did light up on the pace from before so you're screaming into the pillow as you cum on his face in no time at all.

His fingers keep thrusting as he speaks into your pussy, "oh yeah baby, give me all of it." Though he lets up as soon as you start whining in overstimulation.

He chuckles as you start fumbling around with the buttons on his pants. Even though you just came you had to feel if his cock could send you into outer space as well. "Damn (y/n), you want it that bad, huh? Maybe I let you smoke too much," he says, petting your hair as you finally get his pants off. Your hands are teasing his rock hard dick through his boxers. Once both of you manage to get out of the last of your clothes, you lean down attempting to return the favor. He stops you, "Baby, no, I'm taking care of you, remember?" He explains, urging you to lay down on your stomach.

He props a different pillow from the one you're holding up under your hips. Facing away from him is a double edged sword, you couldn't see him, but every touch he laid on you was felt tenfold. You shiver as he drags a finger up you spine, other hand firmly holding your hips in place.

"You ready for this pretty girl? Remember your surprise tool for keeping quiet." He's referring to the pillow but all though leaves your mind as soon as the thick head of his cock drags through your folds. You bite down on the pillow and hug it to your chest tightly. 

He holds his cock up to your entrance and he finally pushes in. He moans quietly as he slips all the way into you, the sound would drive you mad if the feeling of him filling you entirely hadn't already. You'd had sex before but just as your kiss with Sero had been different, this was too.

He's only just pushed in and you already felt on the verge of climax. "Damn baby, you liking it that much? You're like a fucking vice," he tells you, both his hands coming up to your hips, pushing you down into the mattress so he could fuck into you.

You're making what you hope are small noises of approval and he seems to take it as a sign to really start fucking you, or taking care of you as he'd call it.

You hadn't been wrong, his cock was taking you to outer space if the stars you were seeing were any indication. You don't know how long he's pushing into you like that but you do know that before long he's pumping his cum into you with a deep groan, but not quite stopping before he feels you cum all over his dick again.

"See? Took real good care of you right?" He praises himself as he gets up. You're about to whine about him leaving when he comes back with a couple of napkins. "Sorry about this pretty girl, but I wasn't exactly prepared for this today," he apologizes. "I'd have at least brought wet wipes." He cleans you up as good as he can and the next hour or so is spent cuddling and snacking on whatever Sero puts into your hands. Before you know it you're dozing off.

You blink the sleep out of your eyes as you roll around on the air mattress, hands finding paper instead of a warm body next to you. You groggily get up, patting the bed until you found the note again.

Sleep leaves you quickly when you see the money taped to the note. You snort at what you read.

"Dear (y/n), my favorite customer.

Pussy too good to charge. Gotta go back to my small business now, keep the pillow you liked so much as a reminder.

And whenever you want more than just a reminder, call me.

xxx-xxx-xx"

You snort again at his antics before pulling yourself together and climbing out of his tent. You'd decided that it was for the best if you went back to your own tent for the night. Hopefully you'd find your friends there too.

You weaved through the crowd effortlessly now that you'd slept off whatever that stuff did to you. The walk over was giving you time to consider your night. It wasn't like you'd had a bad time, you bite your lip remembering it, quite the opposite actually. The only part that bothered you was the way you'd been ditched by your friends and left with a guy whose clear intent was to fuck you.

Your friends have quite something to make up to you, is the conclusion you come to as your arrive at your shared tent. You hear the commotion before you can even enter.

"How was I supposed to know that was THE slimetown freeloader?" your annoying friend called out. She had her hands buried in her face and she looked like she'd been crying.

"How about you just don't let random men BLINDFOLD you in our tent next time? That way they can't run off with our pillows!" Your other friend replied, obviously pissed off at the loss of the fluffy item.

The two of you take a bit to notice you but they gawk the second they see you hug the furry yellow pillow closer to your chest. "Where'd you get that pillow?" The question sounds more like an accusation coming from the pillowless girls but you're the one with a reason to be upset here so you just shrug and say, "Sero gave it to me, along with a refund and his number."

[shdo-xplosion]

SLIMEBALL!AIZAWA X READER

Warnings: dubcon, explicit content, aizawa wrestles with his conscience but his dick wins, aloe vera as lube, talk of when reader was his student, almost somnophilia, fingering, p in v, creampie, cum play, fem-bodied reader, reader is white-coded, described as turning pink/red from sunburn

Word Count: 2.1k

Notes: my contribution to the Wet Hot Slimeball Summer collab! thank you to @bastardblvd for letting me join! i’ve been wanting to write aizawa for a little while now and this just possessed me. hope everyone has fun with it, and make sure to check out the masterlist for more slimy content!

He should wake you up, give you a nudge where you lay in your beach towel, but Shouta can’t bring himself to. Not when he has such a perfect view of your body, the arch of your back, the curve of your ass, the way your tits squish out from beneath you, your skimpy top barely doing anything to cover them.

Fuck, he should wake you up. Your skin is already turning pink. You’re going to have painful burn lines that will peel and turn into sexy tan lines, and Shouta has to shake his head to get the image out of his mind.

His sick mind. There must be something wrong with him. You were his student for fuck’s sake, and sure, you haven’t been for a few years now. Now you’re a big shot pro, one of the top 10, but he can still remember you sitting in the back row of his classroom, mouthy, obnoxious, still learning to control your quirk.

He remembers having to tell you to shut your mouth every single day, a mouth that he finds himself staring at more and more, lips parted and pouty, and Shouta wants to slide his fingers between them, feel your tongue on his fingerprints.

But he refrains, just bites the inside of his cheek and looks out at the waves.

The beach houses are nice, other pros having rented a few out for a nice little getaway. There are still heroes in the city to protect civilians, nothing to worry about. All Shouta has to do is relax.

He’s in a house with Hizashi, All Might, Snipe, and you, and his patience is running thin. Between Toshinori’s loud ass voice and Hizashi forgetting to turn on his hearing aids, Shouta is beginning to think that maybe he does deserve a little treat. Maybe he should indulge.

No. No. Ex-student. And the media would have a field day if anything ever got leaked. Not worth it. Definitely not worth it.

But hours later finds everyone back in their respective houses, resting after a long day in the sun. Hizashi and Toshinori are passed out and Snipe has retired to his room, probably also sleeping, leaving Shouta tired but awake, listening to you hiss every time you move.

“Jesus, I haven’t had a sunburn like this since I was a kid,” you whine.

“Should’ve put on more sunscreen,” Shouta replies. Or he could’ve just woken you up. Been an actual good person instead of perving on you in your bikini.

“I meant to! But the sun felt nice, and the waves were so soothing, and I just…”

“Dozed off. Just let all those UV rays cook you.”

You roll your eyes. “I don’t need a lecture, Aizawa Sensei,” you scoff, and the way the old title makes Shouta’s dick twitch in his sweatpants. Fuck.

“You’re right, you’re right. How about I go pick up some aloe vera, then?” he offers. He needs to put some space between the two of you.

“What, I’ll stop whining?”

“Maybe,” he smirks.

Once he pulls on a shirt Shouta leaves and makes his way down to the little shop at the end of the street. All it sells is beach stuff, but lucky him, that’s all he needs.

One bottle of overpriced aloe vera and a meaningless chat with the cashier, and Shouta is on his way back to the house. He wonders if you’ll lather it on in front of him. Maybe you’ll even ask him to help.

The lightweight shirt you had put on earlier must be too much for your raw skin because you’ve gotten rid of it, walking around in a t-shirt bra and little shorts. Have you gotten even redder?

“Oh, thank god.”

“Let me throw it in the freezer for a few minutes,” Shouta says, pulling the bottle out of your reach when you practically lunge for it. “It’ll feel better cold.”

“But Aizawaaa,” you pout, sounding a lot like a petulant child, crossing your arms only to whimper and drop them back to your hips.

“It’ll be worth it. I promise.” Without giving it much thought he hooks a finger under your chin, thumb flicking your pushed-out bottom lip. When you don’t recoil from the touch, he fights to keep from pulling you closer.

Unfortunately, you don’t ask him for help when you apply the cold cream to your skin, but Shouta is granted a look at your hardened nipples through the material covering them, the icy aloe making you break out in goosebumps.

“Thank you for getting this,” you say genuinely. “It’s gonna make my nap so much easier.”

Shouta has always been good at hiding his emotions, so you aren’t able to see the disappointment he feels as he watches you retreat to your room, the green bottle in hand.

It’s fine though because an hour later he finds himself creeping in after you, eyes locked on your sleeping form. You’re lying on your stomach, likely to avoid the burn on your back that you weren’t able to reach. No blankets are covering you, the heat from your skin keeping you well warmed.

The bottle of aloe is on the nightstand, and Shouta reaches for it—room temperature now, and squirts some in his hand.

He’s doing you a favor, he reasons with himself. Your back is an ugly (beautiful) red, and he wants to help soothe you.

His hands on you don’t wake you immediately, just make you sigh and snuggle further into your pillow. Shouta gently rubs the remedy over you, as careful as possible. You feel so nice under his palms, so warm and smooth, the dip of your back calling to him. He could make you arch further, make your hips roll and buck. Your shorts ride low, waistband just above the swell of your ass, and Shouta wants nothing more than to rip them off, but he resists. Instead, he rubs up your sides, slowly and purposefully, fingers barely dipping beneath the elastic of your bra so that he grazes the sides of your tits.

That makes you stir, eyes slowly opening as tired little noises make their way out of your throat.

“”zawa?” you ask quietly, and his self-control breaks.

“Shh, just relax,” he tells you in a low voice. “It’s okay, m’just taking care of you.”

He sees your eyebrows furrow, and you try to roll over, but his strong hand presses against the small of your back to keep you from turning.

He unclasps your bra, squirts a generous amount of aloe between your shoulder blades, and begins working again. At first he thinks you believe that his actions truly are innocent. You can’t see or feel how hard he is in his sweats, how precum is already beading at his tip.

That belief is shattered when he moves his hands upward again, this time sliding under you to cup your tits.

“Aizawa!” You push yourself so that you’re sitting up awkwardly, but all it does is make it easier for him to grope you and press his lips to your shoulder.

“You don’t have to pretend you don’t want this,” he drawls, smirking into your skin. “I haven’t forgotten about your little schoolgirl crush.” Because as much as you may have annoyed him in class, you still looked at him with hearts in your eyes. It was easy for him to deduce that all your smartass comments were just to get his attention.

“That doesn’t mean…” You trail off when he pinches both of your nipples, pulling a quiet moan from you.

“Just once, sweetheart. You owe me after teasing me the last few days.”

“I wasn’t…”

“Walking around in your short little dresses, prancing around with these pretty tits falling out of your bikini tops.” He gives you a tight squeeze before letting go of the plump flesh in order to trail his hands down further. “Let me have you just once.”

You only resist a little when he pushes you back down on the bed, face down again. You’ve lost your bra, and Shouta is quick to pull your cotton shorts down your legs, revealing that you’re wearing nothing underneath them.

He groans, groping your ass, bouncing your cheeks before spreading them to show your folds.

“Such a pretty cunt,” he growls, running a finger down your slit as far as he can. You’re already wet for him—such a good girl—but he still wants to get you slicked up and messy.

Shouta grabs the bottle of aloe vera once again, covering his fingers with it then slowly pushing two of them inside of you.

“Ahh, fuck, ‘zawa,” you gasp. With your cheek against the pillows, Shouta can see the way your mouth opens, eyes wide as they flick around to whatever you can see. Your body is tense, but you aren’t fighting him, thighs parting a little more.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he purrs. You don’t respond, just bite your bottom lip. Doesn’t matter. As long as you let him touch you he’ll be a happy man.

Pumping his fingers, Shouta stares at your reddened skin and gets the idea to mark you, presses his fingertips into your flesh then pulls them away, admiring the light circles they leave behind. Mesmerized, he grips your ass with one hand, squeezing to create those same marks just under the curve.

“Fuck, you’re sexy.” He punctuates it with a spank that makes you jolt, but you quickly melt when he curls his fingers a certain way. “You ready for my cock, baby? I’ll be gentle. I know you’re sore.”

A lie. He slicks himself up with more aloe then thrusts into your heat all at once, stretching you on his fat cock and holding you in place when you squirm.

“Y-you said… nnfuck.”

“I know what I said, but your pussy is just too—” he snaps his hips back and forth, eyes rolling in his head. “Too sweet. Can’t help it.”

Shouta tugs you up so that you’re on your knees, back pressed to him, and he knows the friction is hurting you, the coarse hair on his chest chafing your raw skin, but at this angle he can reach in front of you to play with your neglected clit, massaging it with two fingers.

“‘zawa let me… at least let me ride you,” you plead.

It’s a tempting thought, but… “you feel so good like this, though. So warm, taking my cock so well.”

He presses a hand low on your tummy, swears he can feel his dick moving, but he gets distracted when you let your head hang back to rest on his shoulder. Opportunity presents itself with your neck so open, and Shouta wraps his fingers around your throat, just barely squeezing.

He’s so deep inside you, cockhead nudging your cervix. Ohh, he wants to fuck you so full of his cum, wants to see you sprawled on the mattress dripping with him, wants to see you ruined.

Words stick in your throat, but your lips are moving like you want to say something. Shouta pants in your ear, “what is it, baby? What do you want?”

“Wanna—wanna cum,” you whimper, and now Shouta knows that you’ve fully accepted him. You’re not mad at him for fucking you, no. You want this. You want him.

“Cum, then,” he growls, nipping your earlobe. “Cum on my cock, I wanna feel your pussy—”

Your back arches painfully, sensitive skin pulling taut as you cry out and cream all over him. Feeling your cunt contract around him, Shouta fucks into you harder and deeper, using you like a rag doll as he gets lost in your climax, climbing to his own.

He’s not sure he’s ever cum so hard in his life, thick lines shooting from his dick and coating your guts. Shouta bites into your shoulder hard enough for you to yelp and try to slap him away, but all of his muscles are so tight that even his jaw is locked. His hips stutter as strings of white keep shooting into you, your used cunt so full of him that it starts leaking back out of you.

When he pulls out, Shouta scoops some of his cum out of you, dazed as he smears it down the pink of your spine.

“What the hell are you doing?” you ask breathlessly, falling forward onto the mattress and glaring.

Shouta shrugs his shoulders. “Aloe works just as good as lube. Maybe cum’ll work well as aloe.”

“That’s disgusting.”

So is he. But at least he finally learned to relax on his vacation.

2023©️shdo-xplosion. please do not plagiarize or repost my work to any other platforms.

[bastardblvd]

Just saw your collab and can't think of anything else but Touya Todoroki slimeballing the living bejesus out of his cute stepsister. May I join?

TOUYA-NII IS WELCOME ANYWHERE ANYTIME, WELCOME ABOARD 🫡

[zeninsama-moved]

pay up!

gojo satoru x female reader

satoru's poor time management has you working overtime, and this cheap bastard has something other than cash to pay you with (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

note from author mercury: this is my entry for our slimeball collab over on @bastardblvd , figured the host of the slimiest event on this corner of the internet should probably contribute a lil somethin. let's pretend like i'm not shitting bricks bc this is my first time writing for gojo <3 ending is a little abrupt but i needed to get this out asap or i'd be scrutinizing it for the next five months

content warnings: female reader, unprotected sex, oral and fingering (reader receiving), overuse of the word 'cute', praise and obnoxious petnames (reader receiving), needing to keep quiet, fucking on the couch while the kids are asleep down the hall so if that's a concern for you please don't touch, panty fetish if you squint, cumshot?, implied you've fucked before, unfair compensation for your labor lmao, multiple references to the slimeball au so that may be super jarring if you aren't familiar.

↳ word count: 3.9k

It's almost eleven, which means Satoru is... very late.

Shit happens, you get it. Maybe work ran later than expected, or the train hit a freeloader on the way back to Grimetown, but still. You can’t help but feel bothered by the lack of text message from your pseudo-employer.

You would never complain about Megumi and Tsumiki. They're absolute angels, and caring for them has never felt like work. Besides, your only other options were a waitressing job at Franky’s or the graveyard shift at the gas station, which you heard is filled with... interesting characters at that time of night. Caring for the coolest elementary schoolers alive seemed like a no-brainer. The arrangement worked out in your favor as well. Satoru ended up moving you into his apartment complex due to his demanding schedule, wanting you to always be close – like two apartments down the hall close.

Contrary to the name, the Luxury Condos on Bastard Boulevard weren’t much of an upgrade from your last apartment. The landlord must be loaded because it’s a miracle this place passed inspection, but you’ll gladly accept updated appliances and neighbors without a small army of pet rats. Even the offensively high rent doesn’t bother you because your pseudo-employer paid it all in cash. 

(You tried asking Satoru exactly where he got all this money from, to which he said, “It ain’t easy being the sexiest designer sunglasses model on this side of town. You gotta work hard to play hard!”)

Anyways, whatever is holding him, you hope it’s a good excuse.

In the meantime, you’ve taken up camp on his sofa, wrapped in a throw blanket that smells vaguely of Satoru's disgustingly expensive cologne. You were too lazy to change the channel from whatever cartoon Megumi was watching before bedtime, laughing through your nose every now and then. It’s not that bad, but still… You’d really, really like to go back to your apartment and hit the hay.

Maybe a little snooze won’t hurt, but of course, right as you close your eyes...

The smart lock clicks behind you. It’s a quarter past eleven when Satoru enters the apartment, looking gorgeous and unbothered, sunglasses low on his nose and DAISO cat-print tote bag slung over his arm.

"Daddy's home!" 

"Shh!" you're glaring from the couch, lips drawn in a frown. "Megumi and Tsumiki are sleeping! Where the hell were you? You couldn't give me a heads up?" 

"Sorry, babycakes. They loved what I was giving 'em, so the shoot ran overtime." Satoru grins at you, pulling the sunglasses off his face and ditching them in the catch-all along with his keys. His shoes are toed off and left by the front door. "Why, you miss me that bad?" 

You're tempted to throw one of the many decorative pillows right at his big, dumb head. Instead you sink back into the couch, pulling the blanket tighter around your frame, grouchy. "Whatever," you sigh. "You're four hours late, so you better pay up." 

Satoru sucks in air through his teeth. "Yeah, about that..."

You don't like where this conversation is heading. 

"Some big guy outside the train station jacked my wallet on the way home. You'll never believe it, he had this fuckin'... worm? On his shoulder? Shit, it was crazy. So I don't have the cash to pay you, but–" 

You glance over your shoulder at the man now rummaging through his bag behind you, eyes and tone full of warning. "Satoru..."

An opened package is waved in your face by a beaming idiot.

"– Ichigo daifuku! Your favorite!"

He's so full of shit. There’s one piece of mochi left, does he really think his already-eaten train snack will fix this? Probably, and as much as you'd hate to admit it, you do like strawberry daifuku mochi. Dammit.  

Despite your annoyance, you don't get up from your spot on the couch. You're tempted to storm out, blow past Satoru and grab your things, maybe give him a good shove while you do it. However, you're tired, and no grand display of your frustrations would change the fact that you'd be returning tomorrow to pick up his kids from school. Also, your apartment is literally two doors down, so you wouldn't truly be escaping Satoru – you'll still feel his annoying energy seeping through the absurdly large gap under your door while you sit there, in the apartment that he bought you, stewing in your annoyance and eating your feelings in a single daifuku mochi. 

God, you might hate this man. You don't even wanna look at him, but despite feeling this way, you let Satoru move closer, ditching the bag of sweets in favor of pinching your puffed-out cheek in his fingers.

“Aw, come on,” he pouts, redirecting your face towards his in an attempt to get you to look at him, but you don’t give him the satisfaction. You force yourself to look anywhere else but the man above you and stubbornly pretend you can’t feel the cool puffs of his mint-gum breath, or notice his devious grin from the corner of your eye. “Don’t be mad at me, babycakes. Is there anything I can do to make it better?” 

“You can go to the ATM and get me some cash."

“Yeah, besides that.”

On the subject of things you hate about Satoru, you hate how quickly he switches up on you. One minute, he's the most annoying man you've ever had the misfortune of knowing. The next, he's smooth and serious. The kind of man that confidently leans in and ghosts his lips over your neck, intentionally fanning his breath over your skin because you made the mistake of telling him you're ticklish there.

"There must be some way for me to make this up to you," Satoru murmurs into your neck, the low vibrations of his voice making you shiver. It's then that you finally cave, eyes slowly meeting his, brilliant blues hidden behind heavy lids.

Unfortunately, he's very handsome.

"Okay," you huff. "Fine."

He kisses your cheek, then your nose, and then he kisses you.

You hate to admit it, but Satoru knows how to kiss. His lips are warm and soft, meshing with yours with confidence, tongue easing into your mouth in a practiced motion.

He momentarily breaks the kiss to join you on the couch, kneeling on the cushion beside you and leaning back in, cradling your cheek in his hand, murmuring against your lips before kissing them again.

"Let me show you just how much I appreciate you."

Satoru reaches down and rests his hand between your thighs, cupping your pussy through the rough fabric of your shorts. You bite your lip at the sensation, stifling a needy whimper, but he knows. Your grouchy demeanor melted so easily for him.

How cute, his little tsundere.

He squeezes you softly, then rubs four fingers up and down, keeping his pace slow.

"You know I can't do it without you, right?"

Your hips lift off the couch, chasing his hand as it continues its unbothered pace. Satoru rewards you by focusing the stimulation on your clit, switching to tighter, firmer circles over the sensitive bud.

"You're just saying that," you mutter.

"Nuh uh," Satoru teases. "I've never seen anyone be so good with my kids. They love you, you know. Maybe more than they love me."

That's not too difficult, you want to quip, but opt to bite your tongue instead. Satoru's touch feels way too good, you don't want him to stop or risk having your orgasm put off just over a snark. Instead, you curl your fingers into the nape of his neck, fidgeting with the shorter tufts of hair there. 

Satoru kisses you again. His hand stops playing with your clit just to skim higher, unfasten the button and zipper on your shorts so he can touch you where you both want it most.

"And you know," he murmurs between kisses, fingers sneaking under the loosened waist of your shorts, then your panties, until you feel his fingers make contact with your bare clit. He watches your reactions closely, smiling when you gasp and buck up into his touch. "I like you too. How can I not? You're too damn cute."

His slender middle finger skims your folds, feeling the wetness there, letting it gather and get him all slick, making it easier when it finally pushes inside you. Just one finger already feels like so much, almost too much. He feels your walls bear down, his cock twitching lazily in his pants. How long has it been since he’s had you last? 

You let him have you once before, back when he spent the whole day helping you move into your new apartment, carrying all those heavy boxes for you like the gentleman he is – and you, being the sweet peach you are, insisted on making him dinner as a thank you.

You reminded Satoru of a cute little housewife, puttering around the kitchen in your apron, though nothing was cuter than the sight of you sinking onto his dick that night, your hands and pussy clinging to him like you couldn’t get enough.

Every time he jerks off, he thinks of that adorable, pinched look on your face when the fat head of his dick first speared you open. 

It's kind of embarrassing, the hold you have on him. 

When you're taking his finger with ease, Satoru presses a second into your cunt, further stretching it out. "Come on, baby, open up for me," he coaxes, voice low and sultry. "Fuck, you don't know how bad I missed this pussy. Gonna let me fuck it again? Hm?"

"Uh huh," you're nodding, dazed, and the sight of you makes Satoru grin. The heel of his palm presses into your clit, providing the right amount of pressure when combined with his fingers.

"Yeah? Gonna let me have this cute pussy to myself?" 

Cruelly, the motion stops.

The lack of stimulation makes you pout.

Satoru's fingers glide out of you with an embarrassingly loud squelch, intentionally brushing along your clit as they withdraw from your shorts and panties. His hand emerges, fingers glistening with clear threads of arousal webbed between them, and before you can think, he slips them past your lips and presses firmly on your tongue, prompting you to suck.

"Tastes good?" Satoru coos, delighted at your eagerness. "Let me taste now, okay, cutie?" 

Shyly, you nod. His fingers withdraw from your mouth, leaving a dribble of spit on your bottom lip. 

Satoru repositions himself to kneel on the floor in front of you, tugging you by the hips so your bottom half comes right to the edge of the couch, dangerously close to his face. He leans in and presses a soft kiss to your cunt, the sensation muted by your shorts, but it still makes you gasp. His fingers hook into your shorts and you lift your hips to help him pull them off, but he makes no effort to remove your panties with them. Instead, he fixates on the little wet patch right in the center, caressing it with his finger. Admiring it.

Fuck, you’re so cute. He can’t wait to get his mouth on you. 

"Need to keep quiet, okay?" Satoru instructs, peering up at you through his lashes, watching you take your bottom lip between your teeth and nod. The last thing you need is to disturb the two rugrats asleep down the hall, even if you could pry yourself off Satoru and pull your shorts back on in record time. You don't want this moment to stop, not when the promise of his mouth on your cunt is so deliciously close.

You look so sweet like this, he thinks. Chest heaving, eyes wide and eager, one hand fisting the hem of your shirt, holding it over your stomach for a better view. Satoru smiles up at you, maintaining eye contact as he presses a kiss to your inner thigh.

“What a beautiful girl.”

Satoru buries his face in the soft warmth between your legs. His nose presses into your clit, taking in your scent as his tongue ventures lower, finally getting a taste of your pussy and he shamelessly moans. It’s faint through the fabric. He knows he could taste you better without them, but something about eating pussy through a cute pair of panties never fails to get him so fucking hard. He likes watching them get wetter and wetter, until they're completely soaked from arousal and saliva and clinging to the shape of the pretty pussy underneath.

Your other hand flies down immediately, resting on the back of Satoru’s head to urge him closer, and of course he’ll indulge you. He’ll eat you just the same, dragging his tongue in broad strokes up to your clit, then sucking it into his mouth.

The muted sensation makes you whine. It’s not enough, yet so good. Enough to make your little pussy flutter under your panties. You push his head harder against your cunt, desperate to keep the kissing suction over your clit. You’re certain you could cum like this, between the pressure of Satoru’s tongue and the vibrations when he moans against you. 

A string of saliva connects Satoru’s swollen lips to your panties when he pulls back for air, but this time he pulls the soaked fabric aside, finally getting an eyeful of your pussy.

“Well hi, gorgeous,” he lovingly coos, pressing a light kiss over your clit. “Did you miss me?” 

Is he… really talking to your pussy? 

Scratch that, you hate him again. 

“What are you doing?” You ask, breathless. 

“What do you mean? We’re having a moment,” Satoru replies, voice still sweet and airy, the same way one would talk to a cute little pet. 

If you didn’t need him so badly, you’d kick him right in his dumb face.

Fortunately, Satoru cuts his little bit short and dives back in, tongue sweeping through your folds, finally getting his first real taste of your pussy. You taste even better than he could imagine. 

You release a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, body melting into the couch. Your fingers tangle in soft white hair, urging his head deeper, wanting to feel more of his mouth and Satoru obliges. His tongue dips into your cunt, fucking you with it, then drags up to your clit to lick in slow circles.  

He really, really wants to be inside you right now. His dick is throbbing so hard, he’s amazed he hasn’t passed out yet, but Satoru’s always been a man with a sweet tooth. He doesn’t mind setting his needs aside a while longer if it means eating out some pretty pussy. 

Maybe not too much longer though.

His fingers join between your legs, still slick from your saliva and arousal, and slip easily into your cunt. Making you cum is easy for him, his fingers thrust deep with each lazy roll of his wrist, stimulating that spot inside you with ease. Though, he can tell you're craving more of a stretch, so Satoru, being the chivalrous, generous, oh-so-kind man that he is, gives you a third finger.

Your jaw drops at the intrusion, pussy now spread wide to accommodate the stretch of three fingers as they curl and stroke your sensitive walls, drawing out more wetness and arousal until it drips down his wrist in clear drops.

Satoru knows you're close when you let out a particularly desperate moan, your hips stuttering and walls fluttering so perfectly on his fingers, clit pulsing against his tongue.

"Satoru, I'm–" you warn, trying to keep your voice low.

"I know, baby," he coos in encouragement. "Feels so good, doesn't it? Go ahead, pretty baby. Cum on my tongue if you need to."

You don't need any further coaxing. When you cum, you cum hard, hand smacking over your mouth to muffle your cries as Satoru keeps fucking you through your orgasm, fingers thrusting and tongue lapping up every drop of arousal your sensitive pussy drools out, just for him.

He rests his head on your inner thigh, watching fondly as you come down from your high. His fingers still thrust into you but his pace has slowed significantly, working you through it until your walls stop contracting. Your arousal coats his entire hand when it withdraws from your cunt, even pooling on the couch beneath you. It'll be a bitch to clean, but Satoru can't bring himself to care about that now. His dick might explode if it's not buried in your cunt in the next thirty seconds.

Even as you lay there, chest heaving, you still crave more. Your hands are greedy, grabbing at Satoru while he makes his way up and eases you back against the couch.

“Easy there, tiger,” he chuckles, hooking his fingers into your soaked panties and peeling them down your legs. "Let's take these off you first."

Your panties are discarded somewhere – probably his pocket, that pervert – before Satoru goes in for another kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. One hand rests beside your head, supporting his weight. The other reaches down and palms his dick through his pants. "You need my dick that badly? Hm? Turn around." 

You oblige, rolling over to lay on your stomach and pretending the sound of his belt unfastening doesn't make you warm with anticipation. Satoru shifts to straddle your thighs, placing one of the cushions to rest under your hips, keeping you nice and comfortable while also elevating your ass to be closer to his dick. A win-win.

"Shit," he sighs, pulling his dick from his briefs and jerking it slowly, slicking himself up with your wetness. Precum beads at the tip and he rubs it against your folds, mixing your messes. "It's been a while, huh?" 

"Satoru," you whine, pushing back against him, wiggling your hips slightly in a silent request for him to quit teasing you and get on with it.

Maybe that makes you greedy. After all, he was just nice enough to let you cum on his fingers and tongue, but you don't care. It doesn't hurt to be selfish every once in a while, especially with Satoru of all people.

When Satoru finally presses the thick head of his dick into you, it feels like you’re being split in two. He's immediately met with resistance, your cunt bearing down, struggling to accommodate it even with all the prep he gave you. So he starts slow and shallow, dragging his heavy dick in and out, bullying your cunt into relaxing and letting more of him fit. He pulls out and taps the head against your entrance again. "Come on, sweetie, open up for me~" 

He eases into your cunt again, but this time Satoru leans in, his opposite hand settling on the other side of your head, smothering you with his weight in the best way possible. His body blankets yours, pinning your back under his chest and ass against his hips. His dick pushes into you with more persistence, inch after inch sinking deeper until he's buried to the hilt.

Your eyes roll back, mouth hanging open in a silent scream. You're probably drooling all over his couch, but it's hard to feel shame when he's filling you out so nicely. He's so deep, it's like he's forcing the air out of your lungs and replacing it with his dick.

His lips ghost over your shoulder, kissing it sweetly, then he starts to move. Slow, deep thrusts, only withdrawing an inch before he's chasing that warmth again. He fucks you as hard as he can without being too noisy, limiting the smack of his hips against your ass, even though he really wants to see it bounce from the force of his thrusts. If he could, he’d be making you scream right now, watch some pretty tears stream down your face because of what his dick does to you. Yeah, that would be cute.

Satoru ruts ruthlessly into the tight heat of your cunt, chasing the orgasm he’s needed so fucking desperately. Balls slap against your clit, heavy with all his pent-up release. He takes advantage of your open mouth and forces two fingers inside, pressing down firmly on your tongue and delighting in the way you slobber around them, in the way your cheeks subconsciously hollow and suck them deeper, still tasting your pussy on them.

Sucking on his fingers keeps you quiet, gives you something else to focus on if not the relentless pounding against your cervix, or how close you’re getting to snapping and cumming all over his dick.

“Shit, you’re so perfect,” Satoru huffs against your neck. "I can feel you squeezing me, baby, I know this little pussy wants to cum."

It’s hard to moan his name when his stupidly long fingers are prodding the back of your throat. You’re babbling, crying out for Thatowu to keep fucking you, it feels so good, and he’s grinning like an idiot above you. Yeah, baby? It feels good?

Satoru’s fingers withdraw from your mouth only to snake underneath your body and stake claim on your clit, massaging in slow circles, coaxing you closer to your orgasm. You can’t take it anymore. Your body goes limp, cheek smashed into the cushion, gaping mouth smearing drool all over the fabric while your cunt creams around his dick.

“Shit, that’s it, baby,” Satoru moans, feeling your cunt squeeze around his dick like it's trying to swallow him whole. “Shit, you’re gonna make me cum. Is that what you want, baby? You want me to fill this pussy up?”

You’re too fucked out to answer, but that’s okay, because Satoru wasn’t really asking. More like letting you know he’s seconds away from driving his dick as deep as possible and unloading right against your cervix. God, he’d really like that, but he can't risk having any more rugrats right now. Not when his career as the only sexiest designer sunglasses model in Grimetown is taking off.

Instead, he pulls out of your cunt and manhandles you onto your back, quickly stroking his dick, filling the living room with the lewd sounds of your wetness squelching around him. You're laying there, dazed, legs spread wide and pussy exposed, all swollen and leaky and clenching around the air. The sight of your debauched face sends Satoru over the edge. He releases with a groan, cum splattering on your lower stomach, inner thighs, all over your pussy, before pressing the head right against your clit and letting the rest of his load drip.

You both need a minute after that. Maybe several minutes. 

Blood still rushes in your ears when you come to. You push yourself up on shaking arms, Winnie the Pooh-ing it with your tee shirt and lack of panties. You're a mess, all sweaty with his cum painting your lower half, even parts of the couch underneath you. Maybe he'll offer up his shirt as a cumrag so you don't have to do the walk of shame to the bathroom.

You watch Satoru, who is already back to his normal, irritating self, snatch his bag off the side table, already craving a little something sweet. He chomps into the last strawberry daifuku mochi in the packet and you frown.

“Hey, I thought that was for me."

“We can still share,” Satoru teases, waving the mochi-half in your face with a grin.

Huffing, your eyes drop back down to the open bag on his lap and… wait a minute. Has that been here this whole time?

“Satoru, is that your wallet?” 

He looks down, a little rice flour on his chin.

“Oh, shit! Where did that come from?” 

[emjiroki]

Jujutsu Kaisen Masterlist ♡

Yuuji Itadori ♡

Birthday Post: Yuuji x Reader x Megumi

Firsts Collab: Yuuji Itadori x Reader 18+

Money Maker: Underground Fighter Au 18+

Soft Boy headcanons

Sex me up collab: pro boxer Yuuji x reader

Yuuji/Sukuna cockwarming

Yuuji/Sukuna cockwarming pt 2

Gojo Satoru ♡

Angel Blue: Gojo Satoru x Reader 18+

Triple Strike XXX: slimeball collab Bowling Alley owner Gojo

Megumi Fushiguro ♡

Pushing the Limits: Megumi x Reader 18+

Toji Fushiguro ♡

In the morning, I'll be gone: Toji x Reader 18+ drabble

Smutty snack: 18+ Toji x Reader

Yuuta Okkotsu ♡

Humid: pool boy Yuuta x Lonely housewife reader

Obsession: pool boy Yuuta x Lonely housewife reader pt 2 TW DARK CONTENT

Alpha Yuuta rut drabble

Thirst Drabble

Geto Suguru ♡

Sacred: vampire cult leader Geto x Reader

[thus-spoke-lo]

Letting my partner read some of my smut for the first time this weekend wish me luck lmao

[blondeboyfriend]

𝐒𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐙𝐄 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

[ PAIRING ] Zeke Yeager x f!reader [ AUTHOR'S NOTE ] This is my submission for @bastardblvd's Wet Hot Slimeball Summer Collab. My prompt was ☀️lifeguard☀️. Special thanks to the love of my life, @strawberrystepmom, for beta reading this. [ SYNOPSIS ] LOCAL LIFEGUARD LETS CUTE GIRL DROWN SO HE CAN PLAY THE HERO AND GET PUSSY [ WORD COUNT ] 1.8k [ CONTENT ] Modern AU, mostly written from Zeke's POV, no plot; no problem (jk there are problems), manipulation, dubcon, predator/prey vibes, lowkey somnophilia (y/n is barely conscious), oral sex (f receiving), public-ish sex, jerking off.

Zeke didn’t consider himself a bad guy. He was well-mannered, his politeness instilled in him by his late mother, and pretty nice if he put his mind to it. He was a hard worker and the first to jump into the water to save someone. His experience was unmatched, having been stationed at the same beach since he was a teenager, and his knowledge was unparalleled. His boss had even dubbed him the boy wonder…

No, Zeke wasn’t a bad guy…

He just did bad things…

Like letting pretty girls get themselves into trouble so he could rescue them from the big, bad ocean.

But who could blame him? Temptation was lurking around every corner. It was like a siren’s song, leading him astray and drowning him in inebriating waters. He simply couldn’t control himself sometimes. It’s not his fault he was bogged down by his carnal desires.

And it’s certainly not his fault that you came to the beach on a quiet Monday morning. He spotted you from the lifeguard tower, his eyes glued to you. You looked like an angel making your way across the sand, your white billowy cover up trailing behind you, caught in the gentle sea breeze. His cheeks grew warm as you unbuttoned it, revealing a matching white bikini underneath. It looked heavenly against your sun kissed skin.

Zeke knew he should tell you about the three rip currents plaguing the beach, but where was the fun in that? He opened the door to the tower and stepped down, watching you as you waded in the turbulent water. You looked so unaware of the danger surrounding you. All it would take would be one big wave to knock you down and then you’d be swept out to sea.

“Be careful,” he shouted through his megaphone. He needed to at least seem diligent.

You turned, your back facing the ocean, a rookie mistake.

“I will,” you hollered back.

He could barely hear you over the waves licking the shore. Thankfully he didn’t care. He was too caught up in the sneaker wave heading towards you. By the time you noticed it was too late, and the wave knocked you off your feet. You fell forward on your hands and knees, and tried to anchor yourself, but the water kept rushing in, gradually submerging you. As it began to recede the waves pulled you away from the shore and into the untamed ocean.

Zeke smirked. You didn’t seem too phased as you casually treaded water. He assumed you would have panicked and flailed around, wasting your precious energy. He couldn’t help but be a little disappointed. Your inconceivable skills decimated his plan. He exhaled deeply and debated pursuing you in a more socially acceptable manner. At this point it was the only way.

Contemplating such a thing made his mouth fill with saliva. He couldn’t bear the thought of attempting small talk or suggesting you two grab a drink. It was wholly against his nature.

And lucky for him he wouldn’t have to.

Another sneaker wave consumed you, leaving no trace of your existence. Grabbing his rescue board he made his way down the beach and into the water. When he pulled your limp body onto the board, you were sedated and calm. He always loved an easy rescue.

“So stupid,” you murmured.

He looked down at you, his eyes trained on your exposed breast. The chilled ocean water left your nipple erect. It practically demanded his attention.

“You’re fine,” he cooed. “The water’s deceptive today. Don’t beat yourself up.”

His tone was saccharine, terminal in its sweetness. He was amazed he was able to mask his hunger. Seeing you so defenseless made his cock throb. You weakly smiled and muttered a muted “thank you” before drifting away as Zeke took you back to shore.

“Let me take a look at you in the tower. I want to make sure you’re okay,” he said, lifting you up.

He didn’t give you a chance to protest, not that you would’ve been able to. You were hardly in a position to exercise your agency. All you could do was gaze up at him sleepily, worn out from your battle against the waves.

The inside of the lifeguard tower was cramped. Sand littered the floor. The hot air was thick with the smell of sunscreen and salt water. He sat you down in the lone chair and stared down at your exhausted body. He lifted your chin. Your dazed look made his heart race. He got down on his knees and extended one of your bent legs. His weathered hands were rough against the tender flesh of your thighs.

“Does anything hurt?” he asked even though he honestly didn’t care.

You shook your head.

“I’m going to check you for injuries anyway. Better to be safe than sorry,” he recited.

He caressed your limbs, taking in every inch of you. His hands wandered your body, his eyes consuming it. It was hard to believe such a stupendously lifeless angel was gracing his presence.

“How do you feel?”

“Like… I need to… sit down for… a while,” you mumbled.

Your eyelids were so heavy; you could barely keep them open. But overall you seemed in good enough shape. Zeke couldn’t have had better luck.

“I think I can manage that,” he said warmly as his cock continued to throb. “I need to keep an eye on you for a bit anyway.”

“No. Go and…. do—do your job. I’ll be okay here by”—you yawned—”myself.”

Zeke placed his hands on your hips, his grip tight and commanding.

“I’d be a pretty shitty lifeguard if I left you in here on your own,” he said. 

His grey eyes were dark with ache. You let out a weak laugh and wiped away the sand that had dusted your cheek. You mumbled an apology. He shushed you and hooked his fingers under your bikini bottoms. You exhaled sharply and he paused.

“What?” he asked playfully. “C’mon.”

Your face was adorned with a pathetic, little frown. It hardly deterred him, but he decided to play nice. He cupped your face with a calloused hand. His cock was chafing against his board shorts.

“Don’t you want to properly thank me for my efforts?” he asked, running his finger along your bottom lip.

You hesitated.

“I’ll make you feel so good,” he purred, sounding more inelegant than he would’ve preferred. He slipped two of his fingers into your mouth. “If anything I’m doing you a favor on top of saving your life.”

Your mouth was soft and warm. He wanted to fuck it.

“You deserve some comfort after everything you’ve been through,” he said, pressing down on your tongue.  His tone was slightly more urgent, more insistent. “Don’t deprive yourself.”

You did nothing in protest, entrusting him with your life once more. Seeing you surrender yourself did wonders for his ego and made his balls feel tight. Your steadfast silence was heavenly. He always preferred the quiet type.

He took his fingers out of your mouth, staring at your lips. He thought about kissing you, but that was too intimate. You were prey, nothing built to last. His eyes trailed down your body, lingering on your breasts. He untied your bikini top and watched as it fell unceremoniously to the floor.

He took your erect nipple between his lips and sucked. He wondered if you could feel his beard against your skin, and if you noticed how he kept his well-oiled and trim. You hummed as he swirled his tongue around your nipple. 

You sighed heavily and made a feeble attempt at curling your toes. It was so cute. He couldn’t help but whimper a little.

Your skin was salty, still dappled with water. The ocean’s cruel touch left your skin clammy. But it did little to deter him. He didn’t care if you were warm, he just cared if you had a heartbeat or not.

He pulled away from your breast and peeled off the rest of your bikini. He positioned himself between your thighs and buried his face in your cunt, his nose brushing up against your clit. Your scent was ambrosial and dizzying. He spread apart your folds with his tongue, savoring the taste of your arousal.

Zeke looked up at you, meeting your sleepy gaze. He swept his tongue along your cunt before slipping the tip inside. A small whimper fell from your lips. He did it again, relishing the sound of your voice.

“Yes…” you mumbled as he lapped at your folds.

He felt like his cock was going to burst. He pulled his cock out of his board shorts and palmed its aching tip. It was dewy with precum. He gripped the length of it and stroked. Euphoria enveloped him.

He sucked on your clit as your soft moans filled the lifeguard tower. He felt insatiable and couldn’t stand the thought of this moment ending. In a perfect world you would be his little pet, one he could consume at any time. The sweet taste of your arousal would always be within reach.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his gruff voice muffled by your cunt.

More precum dribbled from his tip and he began to rut against his fist. He showed neither himself nor you any mercy. He was relentless as he feasted on your cunt. You writhed in your seat, your body falling victim to the debauchery Zeke unleashed.

He made eye contact with you, his lustful gaze unwavering.

“Are you going to be a good girl and come all over my tongue?” he asked as he furiously jerked himself off.

“Uh-huh,” you said, placing your hand on the back of his head.

Your touch sent him over the edge. He knew he wouldn’t be able to keep it together, but he refused to come before you. He grabbed onto your hips and rolled his tongue against your clit, trying to ignore his swollen cock. He continued to hold your gaze.

“Oh my god,” you murmured, pushing his head deeper into your cunt.

Zeke struggled to ignore how sweet you sounded as your orgasm washed over you. The relief he felt once you finally stopped was immense. He stood up and tried in vain to wipe away some of your arousal that had soaked his beard.

His cock was heavy in his hand as he pulled on its length. He was so close, he could taste it. He felt like he was going to burst at any second. He watched as you shut your eyes and seemed to doze off. He couldn’t help but be a little heartbroken. You were supposed to be marveling at him and his beautiful cock. He snapped his fingers by your ear while he fucked his fist. 

“Look at me,” he growled.

Your eyes fluttered open and stared at him. His entire body was flooded with warmth as long, thick ropes of cum splattered against you. He couldn’t control his hearty moans as he watched it drip down your skin. You looked so confused, so lost, and it was exactly what he wanted.

[maliciouslove]

Beware of Hammock

ʚ pairing: slimeball denki x f!reader 

ʚ prompt: hammock 

ʚ word count: 1.1k

ʚ warnings: tw dubcon, tw alcohol consumption, tw weed mention, implied public sex, a bit lot of humiliation, compromising photos, not beta read, hammock

ʚ submission for the wet hot slimeball collab hosted by @bastardblvd :]

ʚ AN: well that was a fun little one hour writing challenge! as usual, thank you to merc and cassie for organizing and continuously giving me motivation and inspiration to create

The music blares as Denki fills everyone’s shot glasses with tequila. His best mate and emergency get-out-after-a-hookup contact Shinsou “the smoke” Hitoshi sitting next to him on the table cradling a fat joint, sitting amongst the rest of the infamous UA slut gang — Touya “the slut elder” Todorki, Katsuki “anger issues” Bakugo, Ochako “the crime lord” Uraraka, Mina “the dominatrix” Ashido, Sero “infinity rizz” Hanta and Eijirou “the cumbucket” Kirishima, the notoriously hung fratboy host of this party.

The third round of “never have I ever” is now ready to begin as Ochako lifts her shot glass above her head, commanding attention. 

“Never have I ever… had sex mid day at a beach party…” The brunette looks pointedly at her chair neighbour. “And filmed it.”

With a wolfish smile Touya downs his shot followed by a hissing sound as the liquid burns down his throat. Surprisingly (but not really) Kiri also downs his shot, and with a smug smile — so does Ochako. 

“The way this keeps going I’m gonna be shitfaced in under ten minutes.” Touya complains, slamming his shot glass down at the table, but the rest of the slut gang just laugh. They know he’d be shitfaced in ten minutes regardless of the game, as poor Touya has too many daddy issues to not attempt to drown them in booze.

“Mate, I gotta know, fer science n’ all — what is the worst or weirdest place you’ve had sex?” Denki asks with curiosity spaekling in his eyes. 

He’d never admit it but he looks up to Touya in a very sick and twisted way. It’s his biggest wish to one day have a body count as high as his. That scoreboard hidden in his locker at Slimebucks mocks him daily and reminds him of his noble goal to be a bigger slut than Touya himself.

After a pause to think, the eldest Todoroki confidently states: 

“On a fucking hammock. The logistics are just..” Touya can only shake his head in disapproval as the memory flashes before his eyes. He shudders. 

Kirishima lands a heavy hand on Touya’s back. 

“Can’t be that bad, can it?” 

There is a horrified look in Touya’s eyes as he clasps dramatically Kirishima’s hand in his, pulling him close to his face as if to emphasize his point. 

“Do not. Ever. Attempt. To fuck. On a hammock.” The black haired man pours himself another tequila shot and downs it. “Learn from my mistakes.”

These words of wisdom resonate in Denki’s head long after the game of “never have I ever” ended with Touya emptying the contents of his stomach under the table, unable to keep his liquor down any longer. 

Learn from my mistakes. 

But Denki could do more! He could better Touya’s mistakes, he had the confidence that he could pull of what Touya himself couldn’t. Moving through the crowds of people dancing he spots something from the corner of his eye — a hammock. 

Devious grin plastered on his face, the blonde quickly gathers up the unoccupied hammock, considering the logistics of Kirishima’s place and figuring out the best at least semi-private place he could hang up the hammock and the easiest prey he can catch to test said hammock out. 

Twenty or so minutes later he has the hammock set up behind a shed and he proceeds to the second part of a plan — finding himself a pretty pussy to fuck. And as if the Gods of Sex heard his prayers, the crowd seems to part like the Red Sea opening a path to you — the shy, but now quite drunk new girl. 

Within seconds he has an arm around your waist, twirling you and pushing you close to him as he dances right behind you, smugly enjoying the feel of your ass grinding against him.

“Didin’t think you’d make it today, pretty girl.” He whispers in your ear, partly to be seductive, partly because it was loud as balls. 

“Mina convinced me, said Kiri throws the wildest paries and it’s apparently illegal to miss them.” You giggle and with your confidence levels raised by the alcohol you turn, tits pressed to Denki’s chest and arms draped around his shoulders. 

“Well thank fuck for Mina, huh.” 

It’s easy to charm you, a gentle touch here, a whisper and a chaste kiss there, under half an hour and Denki had you wrapped around his finger, pulling you by the wrist as you giggle and follow him behind the shack where he had set up. 

Resting in a sort of sitting position on the hammock he beckons you closer with two fingers, and chock full of giddiness and alcohol you follow, letting him wrap his hands around your middle, his face resting between your tits as a playful hand squeezes your ass that is deliciously spilling out of your jean shorts. 

The alcohol has made you pliable, a cute ragdoll for him to play with. Skimpy top pulled roughly down to expose your pretty tits to him, he bites and sucks your nipples, taking whatever he wants from you as the hammock swings back and fort gently suspended in the air. The more he squishes your soft flesh, the more eager he gets. Fuck, it had been a while since his last conquest. 

The scoreboard in his locker mocks him once more. 

When he feels your hand unbuttoning his jeans and reaching for his now fully hard cock he cannot contain himself anymore — he needs to feel your clench around his cock now. 

Forgetting about the location and unusual bed replacement he’s using, he confidently (too confidently) pulls you onto his lap, only for the hammock to betray him and twist under the weight of both of you, gravity adding to this nightmare scenario as you both end up on the grass face first. 

You crawl out from the tangles mess, rubbing at your face where it had made contact with the grass and cover yourself up in the process, suddenly way too sober and aware of your actions.

Cock out and ass in the air as his neck strains to support his upper body, Denki is still tangled in the hammock, groaning in his futile attempt to stand upright and far away from the wretched hammock. 

A bright flash startles both of you followed by loud cheering and laughter. “I knew you were gonna try that, you fucking dweeb.” Touya laughs, snapping a few more pictures before Denki gets hismelf out from the compromising position, tucking his dick back into his jeans as quickly as he could. “Listen to me next time — don’t fuck on a god damn hammock.”

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑! I do not own any of the characters or people mentioned in my work. these are works of pure fiction that do not reflect the views, opinions, or actions of any person, real or fictional. Furthermore, all characters I write for [thirsts, drabbles, fics, etc.] are aged up to 21 or older – they are adults with adult characteristics presented and written in adult contexts.

all rights reserved © by maliciouslove. my work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. all fanfics belong to me, please do not copy, translate nor repost the fics or files seen above as this is strictly prohibited.