12th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 11th Fill

Aizawa/Vlad King – virgin!Aizawa; touch starvation/skin hunger; gentle sex – Aizawa has a few hang-ups. Vlad has figured some of them out because of course they can’t talk like proper adults.

.o.

Aizawa looks… not nervous, per se, but distinctly apprehensive. Once upon a time Vlad had thought it had something to do with the sturdy fangs pushing out from his bottom lip, but by now he thinks he has a different answer, even if Aizawa would never say as much.

He is not apprehensive of getting hurt when Vlad presses his wide mouth against him and bites with carefully measured pressure – he *wants* to get touched and grabbed at, and very possibly manhandled around.

Aizawa is a little firecracker, vibrating beneath Vlad’s broad, substantial bulk whenever they find the time to make out, and his fingers scrabble at whatever he can find: the tight costume spread across Vlad’s chest, or the loose tracksuit bottoms he likes to wear when he’s not at school.

He radiates this nervous, hot energy that will explode out of him with a sudden intensity that has taken Vlad off guard the first time it had happened. He is needy and pushy, but in an underhanded way: he will pant wet and needy right into Vlad’s ear, but will not let his trembling fingers wander from their desperate clutch above his clothes.

He will make a sound like a whimper when Vlad carefully nudges thick fingers beneath his shirt, but will not say a word of denial about it.

Aizawa wants to be touched just as much as he fears it, and Vlad wants to bring it up multiple times, but can’t find the words for it. He is sure a jovial: ‘So… have ya ever taken dick before?’ will be met with icy silence or quiet scorn, but-

He is running in circles again. He can’t help but wonder every time he has Aizawa beneath him, warm and so goddamn needy in his quiet, strangely desperate way; it is easy to lose himself in his thoughts, wondering how many people have had him like this; mouth wet and panting against him, thighs carefully spreading for him – and he can’t help but think that *nobody* has had him; that Vlad is the first to tickle those breathless, high-pitched little sounds out of him.

That he is, depressingly enough, the only one touching him *at all*…

Aizawa grinding down on him has him finally jerk out of his musings. He stops sucking at the other man’s neck, the skin sliding from between his thigh lips wet and flushed red, as he feels the shy stutter of slim hips beneath him.

Aizawa has his slim legs curled around one of Vlad’s thick thighs and is letting him feel how excited the bit of teenage petting has gotten him. Vlad is almost embarrassed at how much it affects him in turn; how just feeling Aizawa’s cock grind against the large muscle of his thigh has his palms sweating and his belly do a low, delicious flip.

“Oh?” he whispers, right into Aizawa’s ear. Somewhere in the kitchen something crashes down when his dog fucks around, but he’s too interested in the current proceedings to go and have a look. “Like that? Hm?”

He presses down, giving Aizawa more pressure against his dick, and Aizawa whines canine like and high, his fists curling deeper into the loose shirt Vlad is wearing.

“I can give you more than that, you know…” They are not looking at each other; Vlad has his cheek pressed against Aizawa’s, feeling his stubble scratch against his skin. It is easier to talk like this; Aizawa will not shy away as much when he doesn’t feel like he’s being stared at.

“I can make you feel so good,” Vlad coos right against one hot little ear, his broad tongue coming out and dragging wet against it. Aizawa shudders, his hips jerking upwards into the hard pressure of his strong thigh. “I can give your sweet little hole something to clench around… give you a nice big dick to keep you warm from the inside… You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Have my cock inside you? Get your belly all hot?”

Aizawa is panting wet and quick, punctuated with small sounds at the end. He is trembling and feverishly hot. Vlad almost wants to back off; say it was just a joke, that he does not want to *push*, but then Aizawa talks; just one word with his deep, hoarse voice – but it is more than Vlad needs.

“Please…”

.o.

Vlad has to blink the sweat out of his eyes. His blood feels too hot; like it is trying to boil over and crawl out of him; get all over Aizawa and hold him in a snug little package while he carefully tries to fuck just the tip of his dick into the tight clutch of his body. He hasn’t had trouble keeping his Quirk in check since middle school, but having Aizawa whine and tremble, his ass curved up into his hips as he awkwardly tries to bear down on Vlad’s cock and pull away at the same time.

“More… more-” he pants, and at first Vlad had thought he wants more cock; quicker. Deeper. Now he knows he wants more *touch*. Wants Vlad to press down on his back while he’s carefully trying to fuck the tip of his dick into his little virgin cunt.

Wants him to crush him into the cushions of Vlad’s big couch while his pup has curled up in his spot in the corner and is snoring softly away.

He wants to be crushed and surrounded and feel as much skin as possible as Vlad tries to squeeze something *way too fucking big* into a space that is *way too fucking small*.

He seems already so *content* though; even with his cock hard and pushing into the firm cushions of Vlad’s couch… even with Vlad probably constricting his breathing something fierce, and his almost fumbling attempt to fuck him open on dick, Aizawa nearly fucking *purrs* beneath him, happy with the whole situation.

Aizawa might be an obstinate bastard most of the time, with a highly infuriating class to boot – but Vlad needs to keep this one close by.

12th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 3rd Fill

EndHawks – continuation of this and this post – pregnancy kink; impregnation kink; dirty talk; crude; ABO; Alpha!Hawks; Omega!Endeavor – Hawks has all of it orchestrated because he has no shame, and he wants Endeavor on his dick that badly.

.o.

Hawks is without shame. He stares right into Endeavor’s face while he pants and fucks his cock brutally into the tight channel of his fist. He even spreads his legs wider; lifts his hips. Shows off the swell at the base of his dick because he has no manners and thinks that his knot must be a gift to Omega-kind.

Endeavor can’t help but stare at it, one big hand still on the door handle, slowly making it melt against the palm of his hand. He is morbidly fascinated and deeply appalled to realize that the first instinctual reaction of his starved body is to *ache* for it. For that young, virile Alpha dick that is being presented to him shamelessly.

He must have planned this, Endeavor thinks muddily, nostrils flaring when the thick scent of aroused Alpha reaches him and makes his belly clench, his body – as mortifying as it is – *reacting* to the Alpha half his age. He’s announced his arrival. Hawks had known he would come to discuss a team-up, and still he’s decided to sprawl himself out on the expensive looking couch in his office, cock out and the pictures he had been jerking it to in his free hand.

He is staring at Endeavor with his unsettlingly sharp eyes. *Greedy* eyes. Eyes that travel from Endeavor’s face, slack in surprise and indecision, down to his chest where his tight hero uniform is stretched across his wide pectorals in a way that makes the fabric seemingly scream for mercy.

“Fuck,” Hawks finally sighs and his head falls against the backrest of the couch, his Adam’s Apple bobbing as he swallows with some difficulty. “You got the best tits and they’re not even milky yet.”

Endeavor jerks on his feet, mildly recoiling before he can get himself back under control. He finally snatches his hand off the now deformed door handle and, with a slightly harried look behind him into the deserted floor, he slams the door shot.

“What on *earth* are you doing, you little twerp?!” he hisses. His face feels hotter than usual, even though his flames have sizzled out long ago.

He stares at the shameless Alpha, his body clenching and yearning for him. He’s got a nice cock, he realizes dully. Not very fat but long and still sturdy looking. Hawks is not the biggest of Alphas, so it was to be expected. Still, he holds himself like someone twice his size. He does not look alarmed in the least by the sudden temperature spike in the room or the huge Omega that looms over him. He grins sloppily, and makes a show out of fucking up into his fist. When Endeavor’s eyes flick down – drawn against his will by the Alpha cock; he does not have to wonder when the last time had been he’s gotten filled up and his needy insides drenched with hot cum; he very well remembers the night he made Rei fill him up with a belly full of Shoto – Hawks’ wrist flicks and he throws the pictures he’s been holding on to on the table.

He watches Endeavor’s reaction, but he barely registers it over the roar in his ears when he sees the badly taken, old polaroids.

They’re all of him; old, slightly shaky pictures that have been taken when he’s been pregnant with Shoto, his belly a gentle bulge beneath his hero costume, and his pecs already swollen and tender looking…

“You’re always so hot, Endeavor-san, but there’s nothing quite like you fat with a pup and practically bursting with milk.”

Endeavor jerks out of the stupor he’s been in. The roar in his ears does not abate. He stares at the pictures, incredulous at the sheer daring of Hawks, then up at the Alpha who is still staring at his body, hungry and lewd.

The flames around his face spring to life and fizzle out just as quickly. His whole body sputters, his Quirk not obeying him as his first instinct – to get on his knees and lap at the fingers of the young Alpha, wet with salty pre-cum – wars with his other impulse to pop Hawks’ head between his large palms like a goddamn grape.

“I want to fill you up, Endeavor-san,” Hawks purrs. His wings are trembling, spread out long and luxurious on both sides of the couch. A few cheeky feathers slide loose to caress along Enji’s cheeks and tickle beneath his chin. “I want to fuck another pup into your belly. I bet your cunt is so nice and loose from all those kids you’ve already had. Super soft and welcoming, yeah? God, I love sloppy Omegas. They really know how to treat a cock right. Know how to get all that cum out, right?”

He’s fucking his fist again. Showing off how virile he is as his usually lilting voice becomes a bit deeper and rougher. Enji’s ears burn. He is pretty sure there is smoke curling from them, just as there is from his nostrils. His insides feel liquid hot with a confusing mixture of hate and anger and… lust.

Hawks’ cock in his fist sounds wet and lewd.

“I wanna get you nice and fat. Wanna suck on your milky tits the whole fucking day. Bet you’re such a slut in bed. You’d beg for Alpha dick, wouldn’t you, Endeavor-san? Get all whiney and desperate for it? Fuck, I want to jerk off on your big belly. Rub my cum into your skin so you stink of freshly bred Omega whore-”

Hawks’ face twists into something like agony as he comes, pumping hot cum over his fist, and Endeavor can’t do anything but stand there, impotent with rage and confusion, and try not to squirm with how shamefully wet he has gotten.

11th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 4th Fill

Winston/Soldier76 – continuation of this fic – RAPE TW; forced feminization; coercion; slut shaming; hitting – Soldier is back from his mission and his first pitstop is at Winston’s place.

Winston rarely sleeps in his quarters; more often than not he falls unconscious during his research, having tuckered himself out without realizing his own fatigue.

Finding him in his actual bed for a change is a stroke of luck in Jack’s opinion. He’s just come back from the mission and hasn’t even showered yet. He’s dirty and gritty but he needs to get his cock wet; especially after how abruptly last time had ended: The footsteps becoming audible through the video feed before Winston had suddenly moved; pulling down his sweater and jumping up from his chair, leaving Jack with a view of it slowly rotating within his view.

He hadn’t come back that night.

He must have known that it would have consequences – but he obviously hasn’t anticipated just how quickly Jack could finish a mission when properly *motivated*. He does not think the good scientist would have let himself get caught in as isolated a place as this.

His face when Jack straddles his large gut and takes a seat, looks as much. He’s startled and confused, big hairy arms flailing until Jack can pin them down. He can pinpoint the second Winston realizes what is up: his face becomes deathly pale.

Jack grins down at him and grinds down on Winston’s large belly to let him feel how excited he is already.

“Hey there, babygirl…” he purrs, watching how the other man’s face falls when he seems to realize that he’s not dreaming. He lets go of his arms, sure that he’ll leave them up over his head like a good girl – he does – and slaps his cheek a few times, just hard enough to hear the smack of it.

“Oh no… don’t you cry now. Daddy’s here, and he’s missed you *so much*…”

He takes Winston’s pyjama top in both hands and rips. Buttons shoot off in all direction, making a ruckus as they hit the floor and wall and clatter against other objects.

Winston flushes, his big brown eyes becoming wet as he stares up at Jack. For a second he looks like he wants to say something but then presses his lips together once more and doesn’t. They both know he wouldn’t have gotten out anything past his idiotic mumbling and Jack pats his cheek again before looking down and sighing deeply.

“Ah. Damn, I’ve missed those tits.”

He grabs at Winston’s pecs, soft and hairy like the rest of him, and squeezes until the scientist grunts softly, his head turned away.

Jack laughs at him and just pinches one of his dark, pudgey nipples until Winston makes a soft sound as if he wants to cry out but doesn’t let himself.

“Oh does that hurt, Princess? Does it hurt if I pinch your pretty teats?”

He does it again, and Winston squawks, the big muscles in his biceps twitching as he fights against the urge to push Jack away or cover up. He obviously still remembers last time he tried to deny him.

“You can cry out if you want, you know.”

With his other hand, Jack opens his pants, then fishes around the humid insides until his cock practically leaps into his palm. He shuffles farther up until he can drag the crown against the thick fur between Winston’s tits.

“I don’t care if the others hear. But you seem to be a bit squeamish, hm? After last time?”

Winston’s head snaps around and he stares up at Jack, mute but horrified. Maybe he hoped Jack would not bring it up; how he’s just left him hanging. Jack grins slowly, rocking his hips, casually fucking between Winston’s pecs.

Winston’s dark eyes flick down and stare at his cock. His nostrils flare. He has to smell how dirty Jack is, but he keeps quiet about it, even though his face becomes a little bit more pinched.

“You can cry if you want. Girls do that a lot, don’t they? Maybe someone will come to save you… Or maybe they’ll want to play with you, too?”

He has both hands on Winston’s tits now, pressing them together to fuck between them. When his cock slides across the coarse, dark hair, it leaves behind a sticky trail of pre-cum.

He has half a mind to get off like this and force his personal slut to drink it all down, but Winston looks curiously defiant and more composed than usual, and Jack thinks he should maybe up the game some.

He’s been dreaming about that fat ass on his dick anyway, so why not indulge himself?

Winston’s breathing becomes quick and wet when Jack manhandles him onto his front, then whimpers when he hits his ass and tells him to get properly up on his knees.

“You want daddy’s cock?! Work for it, whore.”

At least those are some nice reactions finally. There are things that are harder to get used to. A fat cock in your little girl cunt is one of those, Jack thinks to himself with a sharp, canine grin as he spreads Winston’s fat ass and tries to brute force his way inside.

It is too tight and too dry. Winston is howling into the pillows, and Jack gives him another hard slap in frustration just for good measure. He rummages around the man’s bedside drawer and gets the lube stashed away there.

It’s easier with his dick slicked up, but still takes a while to squeeze his dick in. Winston refuses to relax, and he’s still whining while he clenches around Jack’s cock like a seasoned whore, his dick plumping up nice between his trembling, chubby thighs.

“There you go. You love daddy’s dick. Next time you’ll be a good girl. Show your little clit off to whoever daddy tells you to, right?”

He fucks hard and ruthless, one foot up on the mattress for better leverage as he dicks into the tight, painful clench.

Winston’s answer is lost in another howl.

10th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 4th Fill

McCree/Hanzo – age difference; NONCON/DUBCON; victim blaming; slut shaming; forced impregnation – McCree probably has twenty kids in ten different states. He does not know exactly; he usually just fucks then leaves.

(McCree calls Hanzo a kid a lot but Hanzo is in fact early/mid twenties)

McCree lets his hands wander; up Hanzo’s shins over his knees and to his thighs where he squeezes tight until the young man jerks on his hips.

McCree grins slowly, rolling his hips up once to jostle the kid a little and get him to squeal before he becomes impassive again and lets him clumsily do his thing.

“There you go,” he drawls, playing the deepness and smoothness of his voice up because he’s figured out minutes into their acquaintance that this little pussycat loves listening to him. Hanzo’s nipples become deliciously tight in response. Jesse can play him like a fiddle and he’s not known him for more than a few hours. “Knew you’d be a natural. Not that hard once you get going, hm?”

He shoves his hands farther, rounds the trim young man and grips at his ass. Pulls the cheeks apart until he makes a beautiful little sound and topples forward, just-so bracing himself on McCree’s wide, hairy chest.

“Ah…ah… n-no…”

He’s been haughty and prissy before, but they all cave to a big dick sooner or later. Especially if it’s their first one.

“You love the stretch, don’t you? You take it like a professional.”

The kid is shaking his head but his body says differently. The tight clutch of his little hole is delicious around Jesse’s cock; silky and trembling. It’s almost like he can feel his rapid heart beat around his dick and that’s quite something.

Tight pretty boy just for him to ruin.

To *breed*. The thought alone makes his cock surge and Hanzo, sensitive bitch that he is, moans weakly. He’s still bend over, his face close to Jesse.

He can see the kid’s wet lips tremble as he carefully keeps riding him. He pretends he does not like being called a cockslut but the truth is blatantly obvious. Jesse is not sure why it took him so long until someone put him on their dick but he’s not complaining. He wants to be the first to root around in his hot, trembling insides, and he wants to be the first to get him fat and heavy.

Get ‘em knocked up before leaving town; though he can feel himself wanting to stay with this one a little longer. Even if just to see how goot he’s given it to him.

It’s been so easy to convince him to do it without condom in the first place (“‘M gonna pull out before, babydoll. Don’t worry. Just c’mere. Show me that pretty cunt you got…”). He’s been too greedy for cock; too excited to get his little fingers around the fat dick McCree showed him.

“Gonna shoot off, soon,” Jesse murmurs and Hanzo’s whines go a bit more high-pitched, the red on his cheeks intensifiying.

“You’re going to… y-you’re going to pull out, right?” He can barely string the words together. His cock is looking painfully hard, the tip a deep ruddy red. He’s close to coming from nothing but Jesse’s dick because any time he tried to reach for his cock, he’s grabbed at his wrists and pulled them away.

Better start training them as soon as possible.

“Yeah, sure…” he drawls, a grin spreading on his cheeks, easy and self-assured. It’s cute when the kid comes; he mewls prettily, his mouth hanging open, insides squeezing down on Jesse… and he is kitten weak, helpless to being flipped over, legs spread wide as McCree grabs him by the ankles and starts pounding into him, sweat beading on his forehead.

Hanzo cries out with every sharp thrust; over sensitive, though his cock does not seem to want to stop dribbling come.

“Gonna shoot, babydoll,” Jesse grunts, orgasm brewing in his pelvis, the thought of having molded this unused bitch on his cock just adding to the pleasure. He imagines shooting deep into him; feeding his womb directly so no matter how deep he sticks the fucking shower head there’s no way he’ll get all of his cream out.

“Pull out,” Hanzo whines, his dark eyes glassy, cock still drooling, and it occurs to McCree that he is *still coming* like a good little slut.

“No way, babe. Can’t do. Not now.”

He pounds him through it, using the kid’s fucked-out weakness to grab his hands when they start hitting him without coordination and pushing them above his head. Pinning him down with his girth he grinds his dick deep until he imagines he can feel knocking on that snug little opening to his womb.

Hanzo gasps and grinds out a litany of ‘nonono’s and then Jesse is coming, shooting off deep into that warm, welcoming body. Distantly he hears the kid gurgling, legs twitching and jerking as he comes *again*.

Comes from his own forceful impregnation like the slut he is.

McCree rides the euphoric high until it finally abates, then rolls off of him with a grunt. He stares at the dumfounded face and grins sleepily, patting Hanzo’s flat belly.

“Been a good lay. Want some money?”

He figures the kid must be poor or something. He’s picked him up in a dingy bar; though he had smelled nice enough. Hanzo just stares at him, the flush high on his cheeks, seemingly shocked into silence from what just happened.

McCree grunts and digs in his pocket. He pulls out a crumpled dollar bill and tucks it into the kid’s used-up hole to stave off the lazy trickle of cum. He pats Hanzo’s leg and starts putting on his things. He needs a drink before he’s going to fuck him again. He’s pretty sure the kid will be up for a second round; he does not look like he entirely hated it.

He has no idea Hanzo is the heir of an old Yakuza clan.

9th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 7th Fill

Reaper/Hanzo – tentafucc; dirty talk; mentions of oviposition; mentions of voyeurism – Hanzo is insatiable and Gabriel is tireless.

Gabriel shudders through the last throes of orgasm, tentacles convulsing, pulsing more thick, silky slime into Hanzo until he is groaning, twitching his limbs as he tries without coordination to pull himself out of Gabriel’s secure grip. His belly slowly bulges as Gabriel keeps pumping him full, listening to Hanzo’s pathetic out-of-it whines as the strain becomes more and more, until-

Gabriel pulls out abruptly and the whole mess splatters back out of the fucked out archer, loud and messy and humiliating as he squirms, cock painfully hard, flushed a dark pink at the tip.

He’s been fussy, once upon a time, remembering between bouts of frantic, deep fucking that he could be, maybe should be, ashamed of his own greed for what Gabriel has to offer, but by now it is obviously difficult to grasp even a single coherent thought.

Gabriel is all around Hanzo, enveloping him with feverishly hot mist that thickens at times into silky sludge, at others into the very tangible tentacles that keep spearing him open, sliding intimately, impossibly deep.

Gabriel moves him slowly; pulls him around, suspending his body briefly as he lets him hang on his arms and legs before he lowers him onto a surface of his own making.

More tentacles slither close, curling around Hanzo’s ankles and pulling his legs further apart.

His face is a mess of drool and tears. He looks like a victim, but when Gabriel pauses for just a little too long, watching his trembling, used-up body, he starts squirming in place, shifting his hips, offering up the lose, sloppy cunt that Gabriel has been patiently spreading on his many appendages for the past… hours.

Gabriel smirks and moves closer again. Hanzo is a slut. Who would have thought? Who would have thought that beneath the austere, superior mask he shows he world he is just insecure enough to beg for dick and try to spread his asscheeks wide; give his tormentor a good, intimate look of his hot, deep red insides.

Gabriel helps him out. He is a nice guy like that. Two tentacles slip into the raw hole, then spread him open. Hanzo gurgles, his head falling back, showing off his throat.

He doesn’t seem to any longer care what happens to him as long as he’s getting his belly filled. If he could, he would probably beg Gabriel to slip into him; fill him out to a grotesque, all-encompassing extent.

What a nasty little cunt.

“You’re so obedient, aren’t you?” Gabriel purrs, curling his mist all around Hanzo; licking at his sides and tickling his nipples until they are plump and as raw looking as the hole he‘s slowly, deeply fucking. Hanzo groans delirious, weakly twisting his upper body to try and get away from the tentacles plucking at his tits.

“You wouldn‘t even mind if I had put up a camera, would you? If I told you that this whole time your team has been able to watch you debasing yourself… *getting* debased and loving it – you wouldn‘t mind at all, would you?“

Hanzo is staring at him with a lost delirious kind of need. If he understands even a word of what Gabriel is saying beyond the knowledge that he is getting ridiculed, it does not show in his blank fucked-stupid face.

Gabriel laughs at him and Hanzo squirms again. This one loves getting humiliated and debased. His cock is jerking, the tip sticky wet. He‘s close to coming from the words and the tentacles scraping along his hot, swollen walls.

Gabriel watches him idly. He’s not ready to start working to another orgasm, but his tentacles are also not prone to oversensitivity, so he can keep giving it to Hanzo deeply, idly pressing at his belly from the inside just so he can see the obscene little bulges in the tight muscle of his abdomen.

“You wouldn’t mind if I told you that I’d be filling you up with my eggs all along.” He watches the reaction – or non-reaction – and smirks with some kind of satisfaction. “You would say *please* and *thank you* like a good little fuck slut. You would let me use you as my own personal incubator until you’re too old and sloppy to keep going.”

He starts fucking him deeper, then; with more purpose. Hanzo cries out, his lovely deep voice hoarse, tongue lolling out. He’s long since lost any agency over his own facial expressions. It is quite amusing, to be honest.

His cock bounces viciously with every harsh thrust into him, sticky strings connecting the furiously flushed tip to his belly. He gets more out of having his intestines filled than he does out of getting his prostate stimulated.

What a good slut. What a good, *perfect* little whore.

“You could work as an escort if the whole secret agent stint doesn’t work out for you,” Gabriel purrs silkily, one little tentacle curling around Hanzo’s balls. He tugs at them just to hear Hanzo hiccup desperately. “You’d be a hit with all the fat, good-for-nothing businessmen. They would’ve never had a slut as easy as you…”

Hanzo gurgles as he suddenly, explosively comes, hot stripes landing across his crotch and belly. His eyes are nearly rolled up into his head, face a sweaty, sticky mess just like the rest of his body.

Gabriel keeps fucking him through it, ignoring his indistinct cries for mercy as the overstimulation comes, vicious and sharp, and then goes again when Gabriel just keeps working him over and giving it to him deep and relentless.

His tentacles are everywhere, petting and warming his cooling body; slipping into every little hole they can find, flirting with the entrance. They are not done yet.

8th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 10th Fill

Masaru/AllMight;Mitsuki – second part to this – phone sex; cuckolding; dirty talk; extreme insertion – Mitsuki lets AllMight relate to her how he’s fucked her boy alone for the first time.

Mitsuki wriggles in place, tugging at the pillow behind her until she sits comfortably. She looks out at the beautiful skyline outside her hotel room while focused on the phone pressed against her ear.

“He’s been a good boy, I take it?”

AllMight chuckles on the other side, his usually booming voice kept carefully low.

“Of course he has. He’s been so nervous, though…”

Mitsuki smiles fondly. Oh, she knows. She thought he would start crying like a child when she told him she wanted him to have a good weekend with AllMight while she was gone visiting her sister.

“He’s sleeping now,” AllMight murmurs. She can just picture it: Masaru all tuckered out, snuggled against AllMight’s side; head pillowed on the broad, muscular chest.

“Tell me all about it.” Her hand slides down, fingertips slipping into her panties; just stroking the silky mound of her pubic bone for the moment while she listens to AllMight’s deep voice chuckle into her ear before he obliges her.

.o.

Masaru is so deathly nervous. He hasn’t looked AllMight in the eye since opening his door for him, hands traveling towards each other again and again before he jerks them back at his sides and rubbing the wet palms against his pants.

“Young Bakugo. He is in the dormitories, yes?” AllMight murmurs as he steps closer, gently crowding Masaru against the wall next to the bed. Masaru swallows hard. He turns his head to the side as AllMight steps right into his personal space. He nods nervously. AllMight can smell the sharp, near gasoline-like scent of Masaru’s Quirk activating against his will.

“That is good,” he murmurs, big hand lifting, touching the man’s jaw to tip his head up. “I wouldn’t want him bear witness to his father crying on his idol’s cock…”

Masaru looks taken aback, going pale for a second before all the color rushes back in and with a vengeance. He starts stuttering, but AllMight cuts him off, leaning down and kissing him slow and leisurely.

Masaru seems to regain his equilibrium somewhat after that. When AllMight sits on the edge of the bed, beckoning him closer, he easily falls to his knees between his thick thighs, waiting patiently as AllMight slowly pulls out his cock.

He dutifully looks at it; how big it is even in AllMight’s already large palm. How it is closer to the girth of Masaru’s own wrist.

A monster of a cock that he’s only ever taken when his wife was there to oversee it; talking him through it; gently, teasingly belittling him for how hot he is for AllMight and his sheer and overpowering *manliness*.

He seems to realize that, too, all of a sudden; that Mitsuki is not here to direct him; to hurt him by pulling at his hear or slapping his cheek to keep him from focusing on the insane stretch too much – and all of a sudden he becomes shy again. A bit frightened.

AllMight can see it in the flinch of his eyes even as he lets himself get pulled closer, kissing at the salty, wide tip. Lapping at it a bit clumsily because he still needs a lot of training pleasuring a man.

.o.

“I had to bully him into it,” AllMight murmurs on the other side of the phone and Mitsuki bites her lip, arches against her fingers sliding silkily round and round her clit.

“Was he that afraid?”

“He’s a good boy… but he’s frightened without his Mistress to guide him. He took it so well, though; cried himself out while he stretched him on my dick.”

Mitsuki lets her head fall against the wall behind her with a low groan, fingers sliding down and into her; fucking herself as she thinks about the immense stretch AllMight’s frankly ridiculous cock could give her.

“He always looks so shocked when you slide in,” she whines, “Always thinks he’s going to rip clean in two. Poor boy never took a big warm cock like yours before. I think he’d be so disappointed if I brought anybody else to play; no matter how much fuss he’s making now…”

AllMight chuckles again. It’s more than a purr now that he’s consciously keeping down; trying not to awaken Masaru after he’s been fucked delirious by him.

She can hear rustling on the other end, then the low, tired groan of her toy. She clenches her thighs.

“What are you-”

“He’s still so open and wet,” AllMight rumbles into her ear and her brain stalls as she thinks about how he must have pushed a couple fingers into her sleeping husband – just… just casually hooked them into his fucked out, sloppy hole.

.o.

“Take note how I do it, my friend,” AllMight laughs above him as he has one huge hand in the back of Masaru’s neck, holding him down as if the docile man could do anything other than just lying there and taking it like a good whore. He’s still whimpering; still so scared about that immense, mind-boggling stretch.

“This is how you are supposed to pleasure your wife! She has needs too, you know!” He leans down, easily ranging above Masaru, his widely smiling mouth next to his ear as he murmurs intimately: “I can show you. Even a cock like yours can satisfy a lady. You just need to learn to use it properly.”

His hips are pumping slow and measured. He can’t drill into Masaru like he can into his wife: Masaru is delicate in that way. He craves the degradation but also the intimacy. He likes making love even when that feels like AllMight is going to fuck straight through his belly.

“Maybe next time you’ll be allowed to enter her. It’s been a while since the last time, hasn’t it? Years, maybe? She is a kind lady, isn’t she? Let you rabbit hump her so many years ago; put Young Bakugo in her belly. And what a fine young man he is. You did very well, then, didn’t you? It is proof that you are not hopeless. Quite the contrary…”

He is running his mouth while Masaru lets him, listening with a bright red ear, his eyes glassy and mouth open; drooling into the bedding as he gets fucked by the Symbol of Peace.

.o.

Mitsuki listens. She has abandoned jerking off in favor of taking all of it in. She wishes there were cameras in her bedroom. That she would have been able to witness her husband’s total submission in front of the more virile, more *manly* AllMight.

God, but she loves her boy. Perfect, perfect Masaru.

8th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 2nd Fill

Mitsuki/Masaru/AllMight – Mitsuki cucking her husband with the no. 1 hero 🙂 part 1 >:3c

Mitsuki is sitting next to Masaru as he dials the number, watching his fingers shake. No matter how often she makes him do it, he is still nervous, still throws her little side-glances that he hopes are hidden by his glasses.

Her arm is stretched out leisurely on the back of the couch, her hand sliding to grip the back of his neck to steady him.

He puts the conversation on speaker as soon as he hears the connection being established, cradling the phone in his hands. Mitsuki can feel his neck growing hotter beneath her palm and she squeezes, listening to the deep breaths that come through the speaker and Masaru’s little nervous pants.

Mitsuki smirks and rolls her eyes. Her boys are both ridiculously useless, but quite adorable.

When nothing happens for a while except the nerds breathing heavily into the phone, she jostles Masaru with the grip she has on him. That startles him out of his stupor.

“I-I-I… ah… would… would you… please come over?”

Masaru is hanging his head, shoulders drawing up to his ears in an effort to hide himself from Mitsuki’s burning gaze.

“Yeah?” comes finally the deep voice on the other end of the call, sounding rough and delicious. “Should I come over? Do you need me?”

Mitsuki smirks and gently digs her nails into Masaru’s neck.

“Tell him. Go on.”

She knows AllMight can hear her. Knows he gets off on the knowledge that she routinely makes her husband call him. Masaru, as always, is shy and nervous. He still can barely get the words out without stuttering, his flush now up to his ears.

“W-would you please come and… and pleasure my… my wife,” he veritably whispers, and then, after a deep gulp of air, kneading the bottom of his shirt in his hands: “I… I am… I am unable to…” He glances at Mitsuki who makes a show out of pulling her skirt up and spreading her cunt with two fingers, looking at him with something like pity. Look what you can’t have?

He gulps and the words rush out as if he’s ripping off a bandaid. “I can’t satisfy my wife with my useless dick. Please, AllMight. C-Come and… Come and fuck my wife for me with your superior cock.”

.o.

AllMight in person is not as awkward as AllMight on the phone. Mitsuki stares at Masaru as AllMight fills her from behind, his fat cock spreading her cunt open in a way that makes her toes curl and her eyes nearly roll upward into her head.

He’s long and thick, dragging along her walls and pressing into all those delicious little places that for some reason only AllMight seems to be able to reach and satisfy.

“You did good calling on me, my friend,” he booms behind her, and Mitsuki quivers excitedly because she can feel his fucking voice vibrate through his cock and into her belly. Goddamn. “She’s so tense! She needed a good fucking! There is no shame in not being able to provide with your own body! you know how to call on a friend to help your shortcomings out!”

Mitsuki hides her grin against her arm. AllMight manages to be nice even when shit talking, and his particular brand of dirty talk is absolutely perfect for her shy, sensitive Masaru who is sitting there, hands clutched in his lap and watching with hot, earnest attention.

Mitsuki leans down, ass up, arching it against AllMight, body jerking when the No.1 hero’s big, meaty palm comes down on her ass in a sharp slap that is probably meant to be gentle but a little too enthusiastic to actually pull through. She groans happily, rubbing her cheek against the comforter with delirious delight.

She loves how rough AllMight becomes in his enthusiasm. How he grabs her and hoists her around like she’s a little doll, fucking her on his cock with ease.

“Yes,” she hisses aggressively when he drives back in, her hand jerking backwards, fingernails digging into his sharp hipbone. “Fuck me! God… Goddamnit… give me your cock…”

He does, ranging over her, so huge, body curled like a beast above her back, slamming into her in a pace that makes the heat generated by the friction unbearable. Makes her feel like her cunt is about to melt, quivering and helpless, body pulling together in an orgasm that makes her teeth clack together.

He fucks her through it, ruthless and quick, his voice booming happily: “She’s come on my cock, my friend! Must have been a while for her, she’s been very easy for it! When have you let her come the last time?!”

Masaru is quiet, pulling up his shoulders, cheeks a fierce red. His pants are tented obscenely, his cock straining against the restrictive material. AllMight does not seem to take offense in his silence, he just keeps working, one huge arm looping beneath Mitsuki so he can drag his fat fingers against her swollen clit. He doesn’t let her come down from her high, just keeps stoking the flames through her over-sensitivity.

Mitsuki is sobbing, biting at the comforter, drooling into it as she’s forced quick and hard towards another orgasm. She just about manages to look at her husband, sitting there so obediently, watching his wife take it so well from the No. 1 hero.

And, as so often, his eyes are not actually on her, but on AllMight. Watching him fuck her; his mouth soft and open, eyes huge and glassy with the flush of a teenage girl crushing hard on his cheeks.

Mitsuki damn near purrs.

7th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 11th Fill

Connor/Hank – choking; tit appreciation; dirty talk – Connor finally has Hank on his back.

“C-Conn… uh…” It’s so difficult to speak both with how Hank is folded up and with how little air he’s getting into his lungs.

He is flushed and embarrassed, feeling stupid with his feet in the air and knees somewhere in the vicinity of his shoulders. He hadn’t even known he was still so flexible, his back curved and ass in the air as a result of that. His belly is awkwardly in the way, big and substantial. It doesn’t scrunch up as cute as Connor’s does when Hank folds him into the same position.

His feet aren’t as pretty as Connor’s when they bounce in the air. His face isn’t as alluring when he’s flushed a splotchy red and sweating.

All in all, he feels… stupid. Ungainly. He doesn’t exactly want Connor to see him like this and is squirming vaguely, but he has no leverage like this. He’s short of breath and helpless as Connor leans over him, his LED cycling a comfortable blue again and again and again. Hypnotizing.

“Are you alright, Hank?” Connor queries, voice well-modulated and seemingly only mildly curious. He is so close, the tips of their noses are almost brushing. Hank swallows. It’s difficult. His thoughts are whirling like Connor’s LED. Yellow, yellow, yellow.

Before he can speak, Connor continues: “Do you like spreading your legs like a lady, Hank? I think it suits you.”

Red.

Hank stares at him, mouth slightly agape. Has Connor… as he said-

“Your tits are quite nice, too. I am very partial to them.”

Connor’s docile, brown eyes flick down, staring at Hank’s chest; whorls of white hair cushioning what are already pretty soft pecs. Connor grabs for one, fingers splayed, squeezing obscenely, and Hank chokes on his goddamn spit.

Red, red, red. His own brain is stalling, he can’t get it to spur into action, not when Connor is above him, humming softly, LED a tranquil blue as he lowers his head and sucks one fat nipple into his pretty peach pink mouth.

One of Hank’s legs kicks uselessly in the air. Neither of them really registers. Connor is sucking, getting the nipple engorged and obscene while Hank is trying not to choke on his own spit.

When Connor finally pulls off with a lewd pop that has Hank’s face flaming, he feels faint. He can only stare at the android, obediently opening his mouth when he offers him two fingers, then immediately regretting it when they press down on his tongue and slide deep, deep, deep.

“I like your mouth,” Connor tells him, fingers sliding across Hank’s slippery tongue, gliding deep, playing with his gag reflex and watching how the Lieutenant’s face flushes a slightly alarming shade of red.

“I heard Detective Reed call my mouth a perfect cocksucker mouth. But I think he is wrong.” Connor tilts his head, the hand on Hank’s tit squeezing once again as if in parting, then sliding up and curling around the Lieutenant’s throat. “You have a lewd mouth, Lieutenant.”

Hank is gagging again and again, the hand on his throat constricting his oxygen intake just so. His eyeballs are pulsing with the quick, frantic beating of his heart, his cock echoing the pulses as if in sympathy, sticky pre-cum smearing against the lower curve of his belly.

He wants to say something, but he can’t. There is darkness crowding into his vision and all he can think about is how damnably hard and needy he is. How much he wants but can’t curl up his ass and fuck against Connor’s belly.

Connor’s head tilts. He looks like a puppy, his LED shortly flickering into yellow for the first time, then his hand just barely lets up some, allowing Hank to pull in a deep breath past the fingers pressing down on his tongue and keeping his mouth nice and wide open for Connor’s viewing pleasure.

Whatever the fuck he gets out of that.

He wants to tell him to give him more; to choke him until he’s blacking out – and where do those thoughts come from? – but all he manages is a pathetic, high-pitched whine.

Connor scrutinizes him for a moment longer, then smiles slow and magnanimous. He pulls his fingers out of Hank’s mouth, coated thick in spit, and flicks them painfully against one of Hank’s nipples.

“Show me your tits, Lieutenant. Maybe I’ll be inclined to help you out.”

Hank stares at him heavy-lidded, feeling the android’s hand still on his throat, constricting but not squeezing, and he reaches down; pushes against his soft pectorals until they are squeezed together like… like… well… a nice pair of tits.

Connor just watches, face unreadable, taking in the thick grey hair and the embarrassingly fat nipples… and then suddenly everything is very quick.

Connor surging down, his white, even teeth clamping hard around one of Hank’s nipples, biting just this side of bearable the hand on his throat starts squeezing again, and the other… oh the other has rudely and suddenly stuffed him full of two fingers, still so very slick with his own spit.

He’s fucking him, quick and dirty, finger blasting his ass like he would do for a lady, and Hank has stars exploding in his vision, cock jerking, pulsing, having a false start, then suddenly jerking out thick, creamy strings of cum while Hank’s toes cramp in the air and he shakes through all of it.

Blessedly, his brain decides to stay offline for a bit.

7th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 3rd Fill

Soldier76/Zenyatta/Lúcio – continuation of this fic – contains coercion, non-con/dub-con, dirty talk, humiliation/degradation – Jack has the two of them at his home to perform for his pleasure…

It has almost been too easy to get them to the point they are now at: softly humping on Jack’s unmade bed, pressing suckling little kisses against each other’s mouth while he sits behind the camera and films the whole thing.

It’s like they had almost been waiting for it. Like they had hoped someone would eventually stumble across them and unveil them as the dirty little tramps they really are. It would have taken all the fun out of having power to lord over them if watching them didn’t provide him with so much satisfaction.

“Yeah, you like to perform, don’t you?” he murmurs finally when he’s looked through the lens one last time to make sure they were nicely framed, then he takes a step back to watch the action unfold properly before him.

Zenyatta’s cheeks have flushed a nice dark red, and there’s a bit of a frown between Lúcio’s brows. At least they have the decency to look mildly ashamed by their whorish conduct. Jack pushes a hand unselfconsciously into his shorts and strokes his cock slowly, leisurely. He has all the time in the world, after all.

When Zenyatta twists his hips minimally away, ostensibly to lighten the pressure against his cock, Jack can see how tented both of their tight leggins already are. They’re as into the situation as he is, even if they played demure and horrified in the beginning. As he watches, the bright yellow-and-green pants Lúcio has donned slowly sport a wet patch where his dick is drooling into the fabric.

“Fucking sluts,” Jack grunts. It sounds disgusted even though it gets him off, and the flush on Zenyatta’s cheeks quickly spreads out to his ears.

He lifts his thigh – long and slender, just like the rest of the boy – and pushes his knee over Lúcio’s hip. Jack makes his way over to is old ratty armchair and plops into it, feet propped on the edge of the bed, not far away from the pretty boys making out for him.

“Sit on him,” he suggests and feels a spike of unholy pleasure when Zenyatta *does*, shoving himself astride Lúcio’s hips, their mouths finally separating with a wet little pop that goes straight to Jack’s balls. Their lips are plump and soft looking. Like they would look gorgeous around his dick.

He wonders if the little sluts even know how to treat a *real* cock. He’ll find out later.

They dry fuck for him, making little breathy sounds that seem straight out of some softcore porn. They drag their little cocks against each other, bulges pressing and rubbing and squishing as they get a bit needy and desperate in their need.

They even look at each other like they got stars in their fucking eyes. Lúcio’s hands are all over Zenyatta, squeezing at his small ass and supple thighs and urging him to grind down harder. Maybe make their little cute dicks hurt a bit… and how interesting of a thought is that?

But they also seem to have forgotten Jack, which… does not sit well with him. He frowns, thumb smearing across the crown of his dick, the tip of his pointer finger idly nudging its way into his foreskin to feel how much wetness has gathered in there already.

He rudely shoves one foot against Zenyatta’s hip, jostling both boys out of their lovey-dovey little bubble they’ve sequestered themselves into. When they glance at him, he makes a motion with his free hand.

“I wanna see you do a sixty-nine. Don’t get those little dicks out, though.”

He should be more adventurous, maybe – they *are* yoga teachers, after all, and nice and flexible – but for the moment he wants to simply bask in the fact that they do everything he tells him to.

They scramble to obey. They look lovely, faces stuffed with each other’s bulge, mouths greedy as they start licking and suckling through the thin fabric of their leggins. He slowly jerks himself as he watches them play for him, and has to stop once or twice just to let the feeling of orgasm recede again.

He feels delirious, almost in trance as he watches them. Listens to them. They are nasty little boys that make a lot of noise, and he *loves* hearing their little slurping sounds and sighs and thoughtless hums as they get more breathless, more eager. More needy. Their slim hips start shifting, motions getting a bit more sharp and demanding.

They want to shoot their nasty little loads, that much is obvious – and Jack could come just from the fact that they have to wait for *him* to give them the okay.

“Stop,” he croaks finally. They turn their heads towards him, staring, cheeks dark with a flush, mouths hanging open to pull enough oxygen into their lungs. He catches Lúcio’s gaze travel down towards the big cock in his fist, and Jack grins slow and satisfied. Of course they would crave the real thing after getting themselves riled up with each other’s little toy.

“Come here and suck my dick.”

They crawl towards him like kittens, sitting pretty between his thighs and getting at his dick like they are starved. He notices them holding hands, but does not have enough brain power to tell them to stop that because Zenyatta is slurping noisily at his foreskin while Lúcio is sucking one of his balls into his mouth, and *fuck* he is in heaven.

6th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 6th Fill

Moira/Mercy – humiliation; fucking machine – Moira has work to do and Angela is distracting her.

“You are being unreasonable, now. Keep quiet.” Moira is frowning as she stares at the screen, fingers hovering above the keyboard. She has been in the middle of writing up the results of one of her experiments, but Angela’s consistent whining in the background is decidedly distracting.

She glances into a small mirror on her desk, strategically placed to keep her most sophisticated test subject under scrutiny.

Angela looks dishevelled, crouching in front of the machine that is fucking her not slow and not fast; an exact pace that is designed to keep her on edge and not give her what she desperately yearns for.

Her hair is clinging to her sweaty, flushed cheeks, eyes looking glassy. Moira can tell when another orgasm is rolling up on her again, because her breath quickens and her little sounds become high-pitched and distressed; but the machine keeps on working without fail and without hitch, not giving her that last thrill that she desperately needs before she slowly comes down from the sharp, now painful precipice.

Angela’s eyes roll in their sockets as she screams in frustration, the sound barely muffled by the muzzle Moira put in place, knowing very well that Angela would not behave. Moira frowns and finally turns around, staring at her imperiously from her spot on the chair, clothes perfectly in place, demeanor calm. Her palms lie on her knees. Relaxed. Watching her with detached scrutiny.

“Do you need help staying quiet?” she inquires in what she thinks is a very generous offer. Angela does not answer as such. She only makes more frustrated sounds, angry tears rolling down her cheeks. Her pretty round tits swing with every motion as she tries to chase that elusive orgasm.

It is not like Moira tethered her to the ground or strapped her onto one of the stools to keep her in place. No; she hadn’t needed to fixate her in a long while. Angela stays put on her own merits, and lets herself get tortured. Which in and off itself is already fascinating.

Moira sighs and drags herself closer on her chair. When she’s close enough, she extends a leg, nudging the impeccably shined tip of her dress shoe beneath Angela’s chin. She stares at her flushed, wild face until the scrutiny penetrates even the hazy fog inside Angela’s brain, and her eyes slant away to the side, body eerily still again.

A prize bitch waiting to be judged.

“I thought as much,” Moira murmurs. She lowers her leg, then extends it further between Angela’s trembling arms.

“You seem unhappy with the arrangements,” she continues. “You’re not having as easy a time when it’s your pussy getting rawed, is it?” She nudges the tip of her shoe against her abdomen, wandering down, close to her clit sitting there almost grotesquely engorged – but never touching. Just one more point of frustration that makes Angela tremble.

“If only your esteemed colleagues could see you,” Moira says on a long, bored sigh. She braces her chin on the palm of her hand, eyes on Angela’s face as she further elaborates: “I would love to study their responses to seeing you like this. To realizing that the perfect, darling Dr. Ziegler lives and dies for her orgasms. And that she throws temper tantrums like a three year old when she doesn’t get them.”

She pulls her leg back suddenly, sitting like royalty while Angela whines behind her muzzle. “If only they knew their pretty little doctor is an anal slut and gets wild for anything that I shove into her ass. What do you think they would do, hm? Would they be disgusted? Horrified? Would they line up to rail you like you secretly dream off when you lie in your prim little bed at night, trying not to touch yourself?”

Angela groans low and needy, her cheeks burning cherry red, nipples plump and pert. Aroused by Moira’s words, though she can’t pinpoint which of the scenarios does it more for her.

Moira snorts in disgust and swings around in her chair, dragging herself back towards her work.

“Keep quiet and maybe I’ll give you what you crave later.”