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Stitched Up Love
Giyuu Tomioka X reader
Day 6: Handmade Gifts
25 Days of Ficmas Masterlist
~You try to make your boyfriend a thoughtful gift to keep him warm but you come up short.
Giyuu had been out on a mission for weeks, his crow had been sending you updates on his progress as well as a few handwritten letters from him, but none of them said when he would be coming back to you.
These missions are nothing out of the ordinary, but you always
find a new reason to worry about the Water Hashira. Your current concern: the heavy snowfall and freezing winds that send shivers deep into your skin.
The end of the year brings longer nights and an increase in demon activity. This means that Demon Salyers must stay alert much longer than they would in the summer months.
With him traveling along the countryside your feelings of helplessness increase tenfold and you begin to wonder what you can do to take care of Giyuu in a way, he wouldn’t do himself.
You continue to think of this as you walk through town to pick up a few groceries.
The cold seeps through your many layers of clothing and sends goosebumps all over your skin.
As the wind assaults your neck and sends strands of your hair every which way you wish that you had a scarf to keep you warm.
A scarf?
That’s It!
You can knit Giyuu a scarf to take with him when he goes on his missions.
A scarf would be light enough to send with Kanzaburo when he delivers Giyuu’s next letter. It would be perfect.
A victorious smile crosses your chilly face and you make your way over to a shop that sells knitting needles and yarn so that you can get started on your project.
In all your enthusiasm you forgot one thing, You have never knitted anything before, let alone a scarf strong enough to withstand a Demon Attack?
But how hard can it be?
~
Extremely hard apparently
Even with your guidebook directing you the scarf doesn’t look quite right, It’s thick in some areas and stringy in others, If you weren’t the one making it, you would hardly be able to tell what it is you are making.
Nevertheless, your optimism pushes you to work through the night in hopes that everyone will look great when you finish the project. Somewhere along the way, you thought it was a good idea to use a different colored yarn to stitch his name in the corner of the garment. It’s lopsided and slanted, but it comes through well enough.
By the time you place your Knitting needles down your fingers are stiff and cramping. In your tired state, you examine the product of your love for the Hashira and come to a heart-wrenching conclusion.
It’s hideous.
Giyuu deserves way better than this.
Your disappointment comes to a halt as you see a dark blur moving across the snowy landscape outside your window.
It moves toward you at a steady pace and you begin to wonder who would be walking alone on these mountain roads so early in the morning?
It gets closer and closer until you can vaguely make out a familiar dual-patterned Haori you breathe a sigh of relief.
You spring from your seat and toss your failed project aside in favor of running across the snowy landscape and into the arms of Giyuu Tomioka. not bothering to put on a jacket or shoes.
The winter air freezes the happy tears that flow down your face but the minute your Demon Slayer wraps his arms around you lifting you from the ground, you forget about the cold.
“Giyuu, I am so happy you’re back so soon.” You murmur into his chest.
His calloused hands come to rub circles into your back. “I thought of you every minute I was away.” He says softly.
“And I, you,” you hum, feeling extremely thankful to know he is home safe with you, His breath hitches and you feel his cerulean eyes scanning your underdressed form.
“Y/n, it’s freezing out here.” He says his voice full of concern. “Let’s get back inside.”
“That sounds good,” you nod and try to turn back towards the house, but he stops you.
“Wait, you aren’t wearing any shoes.” He says glancing down at your bare feet “I shall carry you back.” Your objections die on your lips as he readjusts his hold on you and walks the two of you back into the house. “Next time my love, you really need to dress for the weather.” He scolds wrapping you in a thick blanket.
You squirm trying to free your arms from the fabric “I’m sorry, but I just got so relieved to see you.”
A thin smile tugs on his lips and he looks at you adoringly. But then his eyes fall to the scarf you haphazardly threw upon his arrival. “What’s this?” he asks crouching down and lifting the garment.
“I-it’s nothing, you stutter trying in vain to free yourself from your blanketed prison and toss the scarf into the fire where it belongs.
“It doesn’t look like nothing,” he says plainly, observing the scarf. ”It has my name on it.”
Victoriously you free your first arm from your swaddle, the rest of the blanket falls to the ground as you try and take it from his hands, but his superior speed has you beat.
“It’s just a scarf, but I messed up.” You say still trying to reach out to it. “So, if you’d give it back I can make you a better one.”
“No,” he says suddenly. “I don’t want another one. You made this one for me and I shall wear it.” A heavy blush covers his cheeks as he wraps the scarf around his neck.
“No one has ever taken the time to make something like this for me, I will treasure it always.”
“Are you sure?” you squeak casting your eyes to the floor in shame, “It’s ugly and I messed up a lot while making it.”
“I’m sure,” he says cupping your cheek. “To me, it’s perfect.”
Although you wonder if he knows the meaning of the word, but the smile on his face tells you enough to know that you may never be able to take that scarf away from him.
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Shouta’s chest rises and falls beneath your ear. His breathing is clear and steady. A small wing beating against his rib. Bare skin warm, the hair between his pecs slightly coarse, gooseflesh rearing in the tepid air. You feel his fingers at the base of your skull, splayed wide. His hand squeezes gently, heel rubbing wide circles into the muscle, big enough to cover your nape.
At some point in the night you had gravitated toward one another. Shouta liked the right side of the bed, yet always woke in the middle. You’ve thrown your leg over his hip and wrapped an arm around his waist, the other trapped between body and mattress. He takes a particularly deep, satisfying inhale, and your head lifts with it as his lungs bloat.
“Good mornin’ Shouta,” you murmur. The words are thick in your cotton mouth. A shiver runs down your spine alongside his fingertips. He walks to the small of your back, smoothing across your hip and up, resting on your waist after he pulls you closer.
A raspy groan builds in his throat that he clears in the next breath. “Morning, love,” he says. Affection bubbles; the syrupy kind of feeling that fills your belly until it’s all you can think of. Your mouth curves into a slow smile that you turn to press into his breast. He exhales a quiet, indulgent laugh
“What’re you smiling at?”
You tilt your head and look up where he is propped against the pillows. The light is slanted, shadows pleated over his face. You’ve found the origins of Red Beryl. In his eyes, emitting a dulcet glow. If your heart is made of strings, drawn tight through the turning pins, then his barely there fraction of a smile must be a hand strumming from pillar to midrib, playing a profound note that swells.
There’s so much to choose from.
He’s alive under you, pressing closer to get rid of the offending space between your bodies. Shouta peers at you, half lidded and fond. You think he might be falling asleep again. Soft footfalls echo throughout the apartment. Not one, but two. They’re light footed and quick, paired with hushed laughter and childlike exhilaration. You can paint the scene in your mind; Midoriya is chasing Eri around the sofa, following her sudden turn toward the dining room table, half bent with his hands reaching out as if to snatch her up. Their arms are wrapped up in protective sleeves — matching the knee sleeve Shouta wore with his prosthetic.
The year had been dark; this peaceful morning comes like the quiet after an elegy. A pensive kind that makes you wonder if it’s okay that you got the happy ending. But what good does that do? you think. There is no penance for surviving.
Only gratitude.
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kobeni being the top gifset for this week's episode and asa fumbling DENJI out of all people congratulations to cringe fail losers who are girls today we won
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my girl. ꕀ eijiro kirishima.
cw/tw : sleaze!kiri, college!kiri, dubcon, drugs (weed), coercion/manipulation, unprotected, size kink, possessiveness, cheating (?), what is a pov.
kirishima … loses it a little bit when you mention you suddenly have a boyfriend. well, ‘loses it’ isn’t the best way to describe it— because he doesn’t make it obvious in his body language, in fact he carries on the conversation as if he’s happy for you.
but, fuck, is he irritated and down to his marrow.
the two of you have been friends for longer than he usually takes to seal the deal, but you’re different. that’s what he likes so much about you. it didn’t only take his large stature, pretty smile and smooth words to make you melt for him.
it’s not like you’re all innocent, can’t be with the kinks and fantasies you’ve mentioned to him while drunk, you’re just so… nice. nice and a little oblivious. you wholeheartedly think that the two of you are ‘besties’, and that all of his friends see you that way too. you genuinely believe that none of them want to fuck you, what faith you have in the group.
this whole time, he’d been under the impression that you weren’t even talking to anyone else. because you would’ve told him if you were.. why didn’t you tell him? when he’s gone through all the trouble of befriending you, listening to all of your problems, the torture of sleeping in the same bed fully clothed. you’ve wrung him dry while he’s been putting on this front of having innocent intentions instead of just fucking you the first night that he’d got you back to his place— and in the moments that he’s asking you how big the guy is, because of your size kink and all, he’s thinking that doesn’t even seem like a half bad plan to him anymore.
all restraint in him has crumbled. you turn into prey the moment you walk into his place, not that you know it. you still give him that same usual hug, and smile up at him with those pretty eyes that make his dick half hard just by the way you bat your lashes at him.
he takes it slow, wanting to wind you in too deep to free yourself if you start to panic. the two of you sit in his room, the same as always. you in the middle of his bed, leaning against the headboard and him laying at your feet, a controller in his hands. like usual, before you even have a chance to speak you’re interrupted by a knock at door.
“it’s open.” kirishima calls without looking at who enters, but the black mess of hair tells you it’s sero, one of his many roommates, who for some reason doesn’t even look at you. the usual jokes and playful flirts thrown your way nowhere to be heard. your heart sinks a little when he doesn’t even greet you.
“hey, you rolled this and left it on the counter.” he extends his hand showing the redhead the blunt between his fingers. “you know those gars crisp up.”
“shit,” kiri turns, grabbing it and thanking his friend—who quickly disappears into the unusually quiet house—before putting it on the bed between the two of you.
“you care if i smoke?” he asks over his shoulder, fishing what’s likely to be a lighter out of one of his pockets. his hips are raised slightly and at this angle you can definitely make out the outline of his cock which you truly can’t tell is hard or not. when you don’t respond, he dips his head down into your line of sight, a small smile on his face. ones that you can’t tell reeks of success. “i don’t want the ‘gar to go stale.”
“uh, okay.” you nod, and that slick smile of his lingers. you don’t like to be around the smoke, it sticks to your clothes and your tolerance is so low if you’re even in the same room you can feel the buzz on your skin.
he’s just finished turning on his music he turns to you, laughing at the way you’re breathing through your shirt. “you’re so ridiculous.” he tugs at the fabric, making it fall off your face which earns him a scowl from you.
“eiji—“
“what? just hit it one time.” he offers it to you, between his middle and index finger, it’s all you can do to blink back. “c’mon, it’s me, you’re safest with me, right?” he shrugs, motioning again for you to take the blunt. “what would big bad eiji’ ever do to you?”
“i guess, red.” you roll your eyes and give in, had the thought ever crossed your mind to actually smoke and not just get secondhand high, you think kirishima definitely is the safest place to be.
he’s always watched out for you, especially times you almost did really dumb things. like meeting up with an ex, leaving the bar with some random, or some hooking up with a guy off tinder. his words of reason were the only thing that’ve saved you from disappointment.
it burns. your throat, your lungs, you can feel it in your ears. why does it burn so bad?
“it—“ you can’t breathe, it feels like the world is resting on your chest keeping you from even speaks.
“that was way too big of an inhale.” he rushes off the bed to retrieve his gym water bottle for you. “you gotta slow down, baby.” one of his large hands rub your back as you continue to cough and gasp between drinks until you can eventually breathe again. “there you go, deep breaths.”
he laughs when you force the blunt back between his fingers, but he takes it, putting it between his lips before scooting up next to you. his heavy body makes the bed dip and you feel yourself start to slide towards him without thought.
“sorry, i dunno’ why i got so close.” you admit, though you’re not sure if you’re the one moving your mouth to talk. he laughs lightly, pulling out his phone when it vibrates and placing his free hand on your thigh. you listen to the clicks of him typing for what feels like ever, the sound of the music playing becoming so distant it’s almost not there. “eijiro, i feel funny.”
“it’s okay, pretty.” he finally stops and throws his phone somewhere to be found later. “you’re with me, it’s okay.” he turns to you and his laying hand turns into a gripping one—it’s light, and soothing almost the way he massages your skin, you let yourself fall opposite of him, laying sideways on the bed, throwing your kegs over his. “you know,” he starts, pressing the blunt back between your fingers. “no one knows you like i do…”
yeah, that’s true.
“and who can you stand next to and feel as sage as you do with me?” you bring it to your lips, inhaling deep but short, closing your eyes as the burn hits and you blow the smoke back out. “i mean, who do you even know that’s stronger than me?”
that’s also true.
“there’s definitely no one that can fuck you with the same strength that i can.”
that’s definitely true, it’s not like you haven’t thought about it before. friendship or not, kirishima would hit your size kink check list so— what?
“who’s ‘gonna make your snack for you in the middle of the movie? or drive you to the gas station for food in the middle of the night? i can’t name a single other guy that would do it without complaint.”
well, yeah.. but, why is he—
“and,” he’s on top of you before you know it, his towering body leaned over yours, his knee sliding yours to the side, allowing him to rest between them. “i treat you so,” he leans down, lips ghosting your neck, “so good.” he starts with a few pecks along the side of your throat sending heat up your spine.
you feel so overwhelmed with heat, and fogginess that you have to fight against it with what little sense you have left to bring a hand up to his chest. “kiri?” you push at him lightly with your free hand, the high under your skin making it hard to push him at all, but he lets you move his body back to look at him. “you.. what’s happening?”
“i… ‘wanna be with you.” his hand starts to rub at your side, what could be meant to be soothing is only working your heart rate up further. “you’re supposed to be my girl…” he mutters, red gaze leaving yours to drift down your body. “it hurts me that you’re with him.” your eyebrows draw together as you feel a pain in your chest, has he always been so obvious? “you’ve always talked about your perfect guy, isn’t it me?”
you feel even worse when you can’t deny that, kirishima holds every single quality that you’ve ever mentioned looking more in a guy. kindness, humor, sense of safety, humbleness, not to mention physique. all the things that he’s made ridiculously obvious to you again and again.
“i mean..”
“it’s me, isn’t it?” he leans down on his forearm, using his other hand to pluck the half of the blunt out of your fingers and drops it into the water bottle. “i’m perfect for you, aren’t i?”
“i don’t know if we should—“ you’re cut off by the feeling of warmth between your legs when he pressed his hips into yours, the shape of what rubs against you making you gasp.
he says your name in a serious tone, making you look back into his eyes that hold the softest shade of red you’ve ever seen. “it’s me.” he assures and those two words make so much sense. “i’d never do anything you didn’t like.” his hand not holding his weight returns to your side, sending heat spreading beneath his touch. “tell me to stop,” he leans in when you’re quiet, lips making contact with your sensitive skin yet again, this time making you whine and shiver. “and i’ll stop.”
“don’t—“ your head pushes back against the softness of the pillow, you can’t help the growing sound of your voice. it feels like you’re going to explode from every move kirishima makes, it’s all too much, too good. “don’t stop.”
he moves past the green light the second you give it to him. his lips go from ghosts of kisses to sucking at your skin, bringing your flesh between his teeth before letting it go and lapping his tongue over the spot. his fingers finger this way under your shirt, under your bra and his thumb swipes over your nipple, his hips start grinding down against your cunt in a way that makes you feel the damp patch on your panties the second it starts to grow.
you’re so lost in it all you don’t realize that he’s stripped you and himself down— and that you aided him in doing both. or that you’ve wound your hand up in his hair, loosening it from his bun to pull him in to kiss you. that you’ve been sucking on his tongue and pressing your bare cunt down on his fingers that were already working to stretch you out. that you’ve been moaning and whining loud enough to bounce off the walls despite the music playing somewhere in the background.
you’re not pulled from the trance until he adds another finger to the thick two he already has fucking into you.
“eiji-“ you whine at the stretch, at how deep they reach and press up against your g-spot with an accuracy that makes you want to vomit at the thought of where he’s gotten the practice. “too much.”
“i know.” he slowly pushes his chest onto yours, his weight sinking you into the mattress and making your mind go completely blank. “but, you can take it, baby.” only able to focus on the direct sensations of his body and his lips as they come to speak against your own in a whisper that makes you pant. “i know you can.” his hand draws back from your cunt, making you start to ache at the loss, your heavy hands coming up in search of something to pull him back by. “because you want to, don’t you?” your unspoken pleading is answered by the weight that comes to rest on your mound. “you want it?”
“y-yeah.. i want it.” you nod slightly before taking a deep breath and shifting your hips to rub his length along your slit. he bites back a chuckle when you shudder at the feeling of his size, as if the weight of it and his body size alone weren’t big enough hints of how big his couch would be. “will it fit?”
aren’t you as sweet as ever.. it’ll fit—he’ll force it if he has to—but he doesn’t think you need to know that part.
“that’s my girl.”
i have a part 2 and 3 for this in my drafts btw ! x
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i am pls begging u reina to elaborate on the angry sex with osamu your brain is magnificent only if u really want to of course <333
osamu barges in home, tense and demanding. he drops his stuff right by the door and comes over to you seated at the bed. you stare each other off, but when you don’t even greet him, when you don’t even welcome him home, when instead you roll your eyes with a huff, you’re basically asking for him to squeeze your jaw up to him.
“alright sweets, what were ya yapping about at my job while i was working?” lips pressed into a line, they hide the shallow grit of his teeth.
it was a petty thing and an angry osamu has always been a sight to behold. so you’re speechless. enamored by the intensity of his glare, a steel knife below the fury of strongly furrowed brows.
he pinches. the crook of his thumb depresses into your bottom lip and just the feel of this rough, work laden hands and the idea of what they could do, what they’re capable of, has you lightheaded. saliva trickles from the side of your lip and onto his finger. it glints and the sight of it loosens the tension. osamu smirks knowing he’s got you.
he pulls you in only a breath away, “ya pissed me off ya know.”
you whine. it’s all you can do. he eases his grip when your breath grows harsh at your nose and only chuckles when you finally have the opportunity to fully glare at him.
“ya still pissed at me?”
“yeah.”
he hums, a bored kind of sound as he noses his way into your jaw, places open mouthed kisses up to your ear where he finally bites at your lobe. a breath of entertainment blows from his chest that has you instinctively squirming from his grasp. he doesn’t let you though.
“still?” a kiss at the apple of your cheek.
“yeah,” but it’s whispered now, the threads of your anger slowly slipping into a mindless lust the closer he gets to your lips.
“yeah?” he questions once more right near the corner of your mouth. his eyes flit up, a beautiful gleam that forces you breathless
“no.”
and just when you lean in to capture him into a kiss, osamu pulls back with the most devastating smile.
“well i’ve been pissed at ya since this afternoon,” he pulls your hips to the edge of the bed, and in a practiced motion, flips you over. you don’t even have time to scramble for footing when he pulls down your bottoms to your knees, bare pussy meeting the rough fabric of his work pants, “and i love ya baby, but i’m about to fuck ya like i hate ya.”
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your heart is where mine lies
: of exhausted friends and a lovesick couple
satoru worries about his best friend. really, he does.
“look how cute he is,” you say, sighing dreamily as you turn your phone towards him, showing him the recent picture you took of mr. fushiguro: steely eyes narrowed at the camera; lips pulled in a wide grin, his sharp canines out in display; dark hair pushed back from his face, falling in messy strands and framing just above the cut of his jaw; the peace sign he threw in was barely in the frame.
satoru stares, his lips pursing.
mr. fushiguro is anything but cute.
sure the bright pink hello kitty bandage under his eye, stark against tan skin, that was covering the scratch he got from your kitten was cute in nature but satoru couldn’t even say that it made mr. fushiguro adorable. in fact, you are the adorable one in the relationship; mr.fushiguro was the mean and intimidating one.
satoru’s sure that mr. fushiguro would even agree to both statements.
but your smile is so beautiful and your eyes are so soft and there’s a certain sense of contentment rolling off of you that makes satoru hesitate in saying anything. so he just sucks on his straw, holding his thoughts, and hums.
you know, like a good liar best friend.
“she scares you?” shiu asks, taking out the cig from his lips and flicking the ashes on the tray.
toji snorts, shaking his head. “my sweetheart? never. she’s the sweetest thing — the light of my life, that one.” he takes a sip of his tea, and try as he may, shiu knows the action wasn’t to quench toji’s thirst but more so to hide his blooming smile.
shiu tries his best not to roll his eyes.
“she’s something else when she’s angry, ‘s all,” toji finally whispers, his voice utterly enamoured and reverent. his eyes are far away as though he is reliving the moment your ire burned so bright, it engulfed toji whole.
shiu studies him — really studies him — and sees just how much your love changed toji.
no. that’s not quite right.
shiu saw just how much loving you saved toji.
shiu pops the cig back between his lips, shaking his head slowly. he knows that toji is yet to be finished waxing poetries for you. shiu sighs. oh he’s going to need more than beer at this point.
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𑊡˚+₊🍼✦ — first kiss + denji.
૮ ͈>◡< ͈ა warnings — fluff + sfw, soft makeout scenes and hints at denji’s past kisses :/. i haven’t read csm ‘n this is based off all the episodes out so far so characterisation might be off !! enjoy <3
this is denji’s real first kiss.
technically speaking, it’s not. it’s his first with you, but first with someone who actually loves him— cares for him. someone he thinks that he loves too…at least that’s what it feels like with you.
“can i kiss you, denji?” he’s in your bedroom when you ask him, your voice is soft and he can read what you say with your eyes easily…there’s nothing that you joke over his head, no deal that you make with him in exchange for simple affections and you don’t move towards him with any ulterior motives. “it’s okay, you can say no. i won’t push you.”
he’d wanted to, so badly— cheeks a cherry red and blonde-ish, orange-ish sunburnt hair a flurry in his face while denji nodded eagerly up and down before he could even say yes. but you wait for him, to stutter out the words over the excitement weighing down his tongue, you ask him again just to make sure…you don’t force anything on him.
so now with your lips a mere breaths width away from his— denji feels as though this is real. the plushness of your lips against his like the petal of a flower in a medow. you’re not a dream, not out of touch or a false reality. you’re kissing him and it’s nice because for once it doesn’t feel like someone’s taking something away from him. with his hands scrunching at his sides, he tries hard to cherish this moment and the world moves in slow motion because you kiss him like you mean it, like you like him.
you do. “denji…” comes your whisper, cutting through the rabid and unfocused thoughts running through his mind. the blonde flinches, feeling your warm hands wrap around his own— fingers interlinking. “yanno,” you’re quieter now, more bashful than when you’d first asked to kiss him with your gaze lazer focused on the way your hands fit perfectly with one another. “i do really like you, i don’t want you to think that i’m using you—“
there’s no time for you to say anything further, denji sealing his response with an eager, more excited kiss. he hopes that this kiss says everything he can’t— that he likes you back, perhaps even more than you do him. his mouth slotted against yours and his rough-ish hands cupping your cheeks witu such care as if he thinks you might break. you let him lead this time, work at his own pace as the tip of denji’s tongue tentatively glides over the seam of your lips— asking for entrance on his terms, shivering when you accept with a shy gasp and grasp at the strands of his hair.
neither of you want to pull away, filling one another with mutual affection until the need for oxygen becomes too much to bare and you no longer have much choice. denji’s cheeks are a brilliant shade of red, his heart beating out of his chest and his mind still racing at the speed of sound because for once, someone likes him for him and not for what he can give.
maybe that’s why he counts it as his first kiss, because denji knows that while kissing you— he’s happier than he’s ever been than when he shares one with someone else.
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Tall lanky grocery store clerk Touya who wore a mask well before the pandemic loves when a pretty girl who's too short to reach something on the top shelf panics until they see him. Relieved first by his height and then by the burning azure of his eyes.
Secretly he's happy you always need something on the top shelf , coming here so often you actively seek him out. Until one day you think you didn't see him smoking when you came in and you're struggling to reach. Until a warm firm body presses against you reaching up much higher than you even as you stand on the bottom shelf. Mischievous chuckle at your ear
"Why didn't you just ask me doll? You know I'll always take care of you."
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atsumu was begging me to write him ok (cw degradation)
NSFW CONTENT MINORS DNI
it’s a tradition for you and atsumu to “christen” every new piece of furniture you get.
it started when you upgraded from a queen bed to a king—moving into a new, larger house meant you were blessed with far more space. and of course, a brand new bed needed to be broken in.
then came the new couch, armchair, hell, you even christened the new carpet.
the most recent addition to your home? a beautiful, fancy dinner table. and your husband’s eyes are starving.
“absolutely not, ‘tsumu,” you say with a shake of your head.
“aw, c’mon, baby. it’s tradition! we gotta test to make sure it’s sturdy.” he couldn’t care less about it being sturdy, you know that for a fact. he just wants to get his dick wet.
“people are going to eat there.”
“yeah, me. won’t be eatin’ food though,” he says with a wriggle of his eyebrows. he’s shameless. you think he needs to be ashamed.
“‘tsumu, i swear to god,” you say but it’s without any real warning. the man strides towards you, lips curled into his signature grin, fox eyes heavy with want. “we have a perfectly good bed. you can do whatever you want with me there.”
large, warm hands find your waist, trailing slowly to your back until they land on the fat of your ass. atsumu leans in close, brings his mouth to your ear, his warm breath sending shivers along your spine.
“or you could save me the hassle of carryin’ ya’ all the way there, n’ let me fuck your pretty pussy here on this damn table.”
he’s insatiable, yes, but so are you.
it’s all too predictable that you would end up with your back on the wood dining table, pulled to the edge as your husband’s thick cock ploughs through you.
“fuck, baby… can feel you creamin’ all over me,” atsumu breathes, rough fingertips digging into your hips hard enough to bruise. his strength lets him guide you effortlessly to meet against his pelvis, a wet smack echoing against the walls with each time he bottoms out inside you.
he’s got one of your legs dangling over his shoulder and the other over his arm, and he’s putting his entire strength into every. single. thrust. arms bulge as he bullies your poor little cunt, blond hair falling over his eyes.
“‘tsumu-fuck!” you shriek when his cockhead meets one particularly sensitive spot. “right there!”
you don’t need to say it for him to know—he’s mapped out your body in all the years he’s had you. the moment he feels your walls clench, feels your nails sink into whatever part of his flesh they can find (this time it’s his wrists), he knows to get a move on and fuck you harder.
“g’na cum for me, pretty girl?” he growls, grasping at one of your tits as they bounce in time with his strokes.
“mhm,” is all you muster, but it’s closer to a moan than a reply.
“y’are, huh? gonna cum on the fuckin’ dinner table? what a dirty girl,” he says, and the rasp in his voice pushes you over the edge, sends your muscles coiling and your back arching to the sky as white hot pleasure floods your body.
and your husband follows not long after, fills you up with a nice warm load that effectively turns your limbs into jelly. he huffs as he pulls out, watching the cum that follows as it drools out of your spent hole.
“baby…” you whimper, stretching your arms out to him. “carry me to bed?”
he doesn’t even hesitate, swooping you into his arms as you grumble about him having the audacity to call you dirty for wanting to fuck on the dinner table.
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She’s My Collar
A/N: This is for a special anon request 🤍 “reader sees Himeno being flirty towards Aki and decides to mark her territory after even if they don’t have a relationship”, Aki x F!Reader, Also Arai is your bestie/wingman LOL. 18+ pretty please with a cherry on top.
You wrinkled your nose in annoyance watching Himeno put her arm around Aki for what seemed like the millionth time that night.
“Someone’s jealous.” Arai nudged your arm flashing you a teasing smile. You rolled your eyes taking another swig of your beer.
“I am not jealous.” you scoffed staring down into the golden liquid in front of you.
“If you say so.” He shrugged. Your gaze flickered toward Arai and back down at your mug in contemplation. Am I jealous? Your focus drifted up toward Aki, watching him as he silently ate his food. You admired the moment before glancing over at Himeno, who was hooked around his arm leaning herself further into him as she continued their conversation.
“Okay, I am jealous.” you admitted lowly leaning yourself closer to Arai. His lips curled upward into a small smile. “I know.”
“What do I do about it Arai? I feel so upset.” you felt yourself become anxious at the sudden confession, your hands becoming tight fists in your lap. He grasped his chin with his index finger and thumb looking up in thought.
Keep reading
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Started reading chainsaw man last night and it’s kind of funny to me that as an outsider looking in I’d often see fans being like “makima may seem sexy and cool but just wait till you read it and see what an awful person she is” and then I read it and end of chapter 1 she shows up and tells the protagonist he’s her slave now. Start of chapter 2 he lightly protests one of her decisions and she tells him to shut the fuck up and obey or she’ll murder him right here. I’m not exactly seeing a moment in which the narrative pretended she wasn’t a bad person lmao.
#completely agree wit this take#however i feel the narrative really blindsides u into how horrible she truly is#there was always the inkling that she was a devil n couldnt b trusted#but the lengths she goes n the reveal of who she is is so shoking compared to her initial image#hope this makes sense#baller take op
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♱ ˖ ݁ . ‘CAUSE YOU’RE MY RELIGION
[ ࿓ ] — warnings. female anatomy + you wear a skirt + he calls you my love / baby. possessive choso. consensual filming / photographing. both male and female receiving oral, penetration, cum eating, very slight exhibitionism, sacrilege, car sex. mdni
HOCKEY PLAYER KAMO CHOSO keeps a photo of you in his wallet. it’s nothing sensual — really, it’s so innocent compared to the others he has; stashed away in his bedside table — but it’s enough to rile up his teammates. they comment on how pretty you are and how sharing is caring. obviously, kamo choso does not plan on sharing you with his teammates (unless you’d be up for it, but that’s a conversation for another day). and so kamo choso fucks you in the locker rooms after practice — once he knows his teammates are outside the door, eyes wide and mouths agape because you sound so cute moaning out choso’s name with a stutter between the word. and you look incredibly cute for choso’s sore eyes — tits bouncing as he fucks you into the wall, cunt soaking wet and clit erect as he rubs messy hearts. your arms are lazily wrapped around your boyfriend’s neck, breathy moans escaping your lips as you say (loud enough his teammates can hear): ‘s too much, ch-cho! ‘m gonna cum! you f-feel too good!
HOCKEY PLAYER KAMO CHOSO fucks you on the bleachers after practice, after everyone has gone home. he really can’t help it, thinks that if he doesn’t eat you out right then and there he’ll go insane — you look so ethereal, after all, in your tiny shirt and your tiny skirt that leaves little to his imagination. and so he sits you on a bench — he’s still wearing his hockey pants and jersey, making him look even bigger — lifts up your skirt and buries his face in your clothed cunt, tip of his nose nudging your clit. you’re so pretty, baby, he says, teeth pulling your panties to the side. so pretty and all mine. his tongue lays flat on your pussy as you grip the back of the bleacher with one hand, other clutching his messy hair. then his tongue is swirling on your bud, middle finger tracing your entrance before he plunges in and the moan that he pulls from you makes him smirk against you — did you know, he says, taking his finger out. that when i’m down on my knees you’re how i pray? and his tongue licks up your arousal, sticking out of his mouth to show you how much he loves you before swallowing.
HOCKEY PLAYER KAMO CHOSO loves fucking you in his car after a victorious game. you’re wearing one of his spare jerseys — his number and name on your back, letting everyone know who you belong to. he discards whatever bottom you had decided to wear so he can easily sit you on his dick, ends of the jersey you’re wearing stuffed into your mouth so he can see the way your tits bounce as he ravages you. you’re moaning his name so loud, breath heavy as you milk him dry. his big, calloused hands find their way to the sides of your hips to lift you up — to see the mess of white you’ve made all over his cock.
HOCKEY PLAYER KAMO CHOSO likes it when you congratulate him by giving him a handjob. likes it as you massage his balls, thumb rubbing your over his tip. he films you doing it — his moans overlapping with the music playing in the background because you know how to please him so well, he doesn’t deserve you. his hair sticks to his face and a deep, red blush adorns his face as you stroke him quickly — getting him near the edge. once he finally cums it’s all over his tummy — you tuck his hair behind his ear, offer to clean him up (and he doesn’t deny you, how could he?!) and suck him dry. he makes sure to film the way your tongue swirls over his tip and traces his every vein. you’re so sweet, my love, he says after he orgasms for the second time. the side of your face rests on his palm, the cool ring on his thumb pressing pleasingly against your hot face. he collects his cum with his thumb and pushes it into your mouth. ‘m so in love with my precious baby. the camera captures the white on your tongue and your love filled gaze.
thanks for reading ⋆ ˚｡⋆˚⸜(♡ ॑ᗜ ॑♡)⸝ ˚⋆｡˚ ⋆ reblogs are appreciated
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PLEASE TAKE A MOMENT TO READ!
hello everyone! I hope you haven’t gotten sick of seeing me just yet, heh. as some of you know I recently came back from a hiatus I took from my mental health, but things have taken a turn for the worse and I need your help.
after several months of enduring mental, and what many times bordered physical abuse, I’ve come to the decision to move out of my dad’s house, for the sake of my mental health and safe being. the only problem is that if I were to move in with my mom/ an apartment away from home I currently don’t have the funds to do so.
as some of you know I work part time at a stables twice a week in lessons, but I only make around $15 bi-weekly. with that being said I am currently job hunting, still waiting to hear back from some applications I’ve sent in.
which is why I’m offering discounted commissions in order to save up some funds to move as soon as I can. here are the prices:
1K words drabble with a character of your choice — $5
2K words drabble with a character of your choice — $10
matchup package that includes a sfw & nsfw drabble + relationship headcanons — $10
a letter from your comfort character (aprox. 500 words) — $7
if you’re able to or interested you can head over K O F I and then dm me so we can discuss all the details of your commission! reblogs and shares are much appreciated. thank you so much to everyone who have shown kindness and support, I can’t thank you all enough.
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hot girls max out their credit cards
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𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 | 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐃𝐈𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓
cw/ tw. fem!reader, camgirl!reader, f*ck buddies, facesitting, spanking (like once), pining, mild fluff | wc. 1.1k+
an. okay, my brain can't put sentences together recently so I only have a repost T^T
Your head is tossed back, the sound of pinging from the computer ringing in your ears as Satoru’s tongue expertly moves through your folds.
There’s always a bit of excitement when you do this, knowing that you’re being watched by thousands of people around the world. But sometimes it’s easy to forget about the bright camera light flashing in your face, or the comments rolling across the screen, telling you what to do. Because, in all honesty, you’ve waited all week to do this again, anticipation and desperation always taking over as soon as he turns the camera on.
You could just ask him out. You’ve thought about it before. But you lose your courage after both of your highs slowly diminish, only able to give him a feeble wave when he leaves your apartment, telling him that you’ll see him in economics on Monday.
It’s pathetic, you know, but you’ll settle with this for now. Maybe one day you’ll be bold enough to ask him, just not today...
You run your hands through his sweaty hair, and he wraps his arms around her waist to bring you further down onto his face. You’re trapped against his mouth, and Satoru uses this new advantage to press his nimble tongue deeper inside you, repeating the motion again and again with a dizzying amount of urgency.
“Ah!”
Your fingers tighten their grip on his hair, and you attempt to pull him away so you can catch your breath. But Satoru turns his head to nip at your quivering thigh, his hand coming down not so gently against your ass as a warning to behave. Panting, You nod your head and shift your gaze from the ceiling to Satoru’s hungry one between your thighs.
The audience loves the quiet intimacy of the moment, the pings now almost deafening in your small bedroom. But you’re pretty sure Satoru isn’t even paying attention, his focus solely on you as he brings his mouth back to your dripping folds.
He slurps lewdly to gather up your arousal, his tongue purposefully avoiding your aching clit, before his tongue dives back into your clenching cunt. Satoru returns to the same fast pace, and your hips buck against him helplessly, shivering every time the slope of his nose bumps against your swollen bundle of nerves.
Any other time, you’d be embarrassed by the whimpers and cries that easily burst out of your chest, but at the moment all you want is release—pleasure nearly consuming you. You’re so delirious with it that you nearly slip and reveal Satoru’s name to all of your fans.
“Oh! Sa—please.”
He hums against you, making you squeal from the vibrations, and then he’s sliding upwards to latch onto your clit. Satoru gives it a hard suck, and you swear you see stars—tears prickling the corners of your eyes.
“Fuck! I—right there! Yes!”
Your babbling breaks off into a stream of whimpers as you finally tumble over the edge—slick gushing from your hole, thighs shaking uncontrollably in his hands. The sounds he’s making in his throat and in his chest lengthen your orgasm until you’re nothing but a quivering mess above him.
Satoru’s strong hands hold you up to keep you from falling off the bed. Your vision feels a little glassy when your heart rate returns to normal, and Satoru is muttering quiet praise into the skin of your thighs. You feel like you’re on a cloud, and you can faintly hear the sound of donations through the whooshing in your ears.
Without saying anything, you reach over to turn off the stream and then fall back onto your bed beside Satoru, still trying to catch your breath.
Both of you are quiet when he starts the routine of aftercare. He grabs the glass of water and some tissues off of the nightstand for you, cleaning off the leftover slick from your thighs as you sip on your cool water.
You can tell he’s still worked up by the way he’s moving precisely to hide the obvious arousal between his legs. When he claims his spot beside you again, you take another sip of your water and hum to yourself.
Sex is generally off the table once the live stream is over; it’s one of the reasons that your little arrangement has lasted so long. So you can’t decide whether or not to ask before your mouth is moving of its own accord.
“Uh, do you want help with that?” you probe, nodding towards the tent in his black boxers.
Satoru shakes his head, red covering the tops of his cheeks and ears that he tries to cover up with a smirk. “No, I can do it when I get home… er, thanks, though.”
Another thing that changes around the camera is Satoru’s personality. When the camera is on, he’s confident and commanding. But as soon as the red light stops flashing he turns back into the sweet—yet stupidly-hot—guy who you sit by in economics. It gives your whiplash sometimes.
You beam and lightly poke his side, opting for something that isn’t too intimate to make him uncomfortable. “No need to be so shy, you know.”
His lips shift into a boyish smile before he shifts to sit up and starts getting dressed. You just lay there watching him, still naked, your bottom lip caught between your teeth as you try to find the nerve to ask him to stay. But by the time his clothes are on and he’s walking to the door, you know you’ve missed your shot.
He turns to you, giving you one of his shy waves. “Uh… see you on Monday?”
You nod. “Yeah. Save me a seat, okay?”
“Okay.”
Satoru leaves your bedroom, and you can faintly hear your front door opening and closing, leaving you alone in the quiet of your home. You continue to drink your water until you’re forced to bring the empty glass to the kitchen sink.
As you’re about to walk back to your room, you notice a small post-it sticking to your fridge with a note that says:
‘Don’t forget to eat. -G’
You smile to yourself… I’ll ask him next weekend, you vow.
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you’re the one to take his virginity but yuuji is the one who gets a washcloth to clean you up with when his cum starts dripping out of you after
#i cant stop thinking about this#altered my brain chemistry when i read this#yuuji gets so pussy drunk so easily too :(#despite it being his first time he goes for multiple rounds n once hes comfy n has consent ofc he gets ROUGH#manhandling u n leaving such sloppy kisses n marks all over u as he fucks u for HOURS#THE WAY HIS AFTERCARE WOULD B SO GODLIKE TOO
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blue dream | hayakawa aki
this is part three of the series menthol.
PAIRING. aki x bff fem!reader
PLAYLISTS. nightdrive + sesh // menthol
SERIES SYNOPSIS. after a string of casual dating mishaps leaves you unsatisfied, you find that the grass is greener in the front seat of your best friend’s car.
PART THREE LENGTH. 29.5k | coauthor @akitachi
PART THREE WARNINGS. nsfw content, weed smoking/shotgunning – potential dubcon warning for high sex, dirty-talking + instructing, use of fem-aligned petnames (“princess”/“good girl”/“good little girl”), heavy praise (both receiving), size difference/size kink (no specific measurements for either but reader is described as smaller than aki – use of terms like “bite-sized” and “big boy”), aki wraps a hand around reader’s throat (not choking), dry humping + teasing, nipple-play, biting, marking (character receiving), oral fixation (finger sucking), fingering, squirting, oral (reader receiving) + face-sitting + tongue-fucking, brief orgasm denial/edging (mainly reader, aki denying himself), ass-play (fingering, spit as lubrication), pussyjob, cockwarming, unprotected sex, cervix-bumping (aki has a big dick), unprotected anal sex/loss of anal virginity, anal gaping, multiple positions (missionary, mating press, riding), triple creampie + cumshot, overstimulation from multiple orgasms (both), masochistic tendencies, mentions of aki being pierced/having body mods, potentially dark/taboo dynamics (reader + aki grew up together, reader views aki as an older brother figure before they get together), codependence and possessiveness, alternating perspectives, slight age gap (under two years but it’s exaggerated as a running joke – sarcastic name-calling like “pops”/“old man”), mentions of past violence and fighting, implied gang affiliations
NOTES ON DYNAMIC. more of reader and aki’s history is revealed in this chapter, alongside aspects of reader’s given backstory/personality. there may be some references that don’t make sense just yet but they will soon… heheh…
DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS WORK IF YOU ARE A MINOR. BY CLICKING THE READMORE, YOU CONSENT TO VIEWING ADULT CONTENT.
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#to preface i had to read this over a 3 day span#at least it felt like that#partially from being busy but mainly because THIS SHIT WAS HITTINGGGGGG AND I NEEDED A MF BREATHER AT SOME POINTS#i am so intrigued into akis past wit fighting n any sort of gang affiliations like hook line n mf sinker#heart eyes the entire read#i was holding my BREATH before that first kiss i physically tensed it was so ……. jus so#i have so many jumbled thoughts i could write a fucking dissertation
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