Latest Posts by jupiteralexandra - Page 2

high for this — happy bday bkg !

— bakugou x kirishima x fem!reader

‘“Then hit it,” your voice lilts in his ear, a hand coming down to rest on his thigh while the other one brings the joint closer to his face. “Please? Promise we’ll take good care of you.”

His cheeks heat up at that, the implication all too present in the sultry inflection of your voice. In the way your bodies press against either side of him.’

☆ WORD COUNT | 12.2K

☆ SYNOPSIS | Bakugou shares a birthday with weed but he’s never smoked it before. He’s also never fucked you and Kirishima at the same time before. A birthday 2-for-1 special!

☆ CONTAINS | [+18!] quirkless/college au, drug use (weed), alcohol mention, dubcon due to the previous, bi threesome (emphasis on the bi), oral for everyone, double blowjob, spit!!!, facefucking, degradation + degrading names, praise, voyeurism, size kink, frotting, a lot of cum, anal play/rimming, anal sex, piv sex, daisy chain, some roughness, creampie, cum eating, squirting, kiri + bkg interact a lot, some softdom!kiri but switchy behavior all around, kinda imperfect poly dynamics, reader referred to as “girl” + she/her + has hair long enough to be pulled back, bkg gets slutted out ~

☆ NOTES | i know — i know ! this is very late. i hope i make up for it with the fact that this is basically all filth. there are non-monogamous dynamics here that are nuanced and a little messy, possibly confusing… but it’s not really the focus, it’s mostly just a lot of sexy fun. so i hope it’s still enjoyable! happy belated bday to the great explosion murder god himself ♡

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ CROSSPOSTED TO AO3 ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

“Come on, just one hit won’t kill you.”

White smoke curls up around your lips like tantalizing little vines, snaking through the air until it dissipates into the growing fog in your living room. You’re leaned in close on the couch, joint perched between your fingers and mischief mixing with the hazy look on your face.

Bakugou scoffs at you, but it’s softened by the few too many drinks you and his friends had pushed on him earlier in the night. And his ever-growing affection for you.

“Oh don’t pressure him,” Kirishima pipes up from behind the couch, big hand coming down on Bakugou’s shoulder and squeezing, “he’s the birthday boy, he can do what he wants.”

You pout up at the redhead. “That’s exactly why he should hit it.”

Normally, Bakugou would snap at you to stop fuckin’ talkin’ about him like he’s not here, something you both have become far too comfortable doing, but his sharp tongue seems to smooth out a bit when he’s alone with the two of you. Plus, he’s in a good mood. 

The day was… great, to say the least. Not too much of a fuss. Just drinks at a low-key bar nearby, and gifts that weren’t extravagant enough to make Bakugou feel awkward. And you and Kirishima had helped get him out of there before Kaminari and Mina could corral everyone into hitting up a strip club, or whatever other ridiculous shit their drunk minds could think up. Honestly, his birthday had been perfect. Not that he’d tell you both that. But he knows he doesn’t need to.

You rise up on your knees, bringing the joint to Kirishima’s lips to let him puff at it. You’re both crowded around him, Kiri’s broad chest brushing against the back of his head, and your cleavage so close to his cheek that he could turn his face and be buried in it. He watches you in his peripheral, tits bouncing lightly as you giggle when Kiri coughs and retreats towards the kitchen for water. When you lower back down into the couch, you’re giving him a knowing look, and he fights the urge to reach out and squish your cheeks in his hand.

You infuriate him, in your own awful, annoying, endearing way — you always have, ever since Kirishima first brought you into their lives. Somehow that has led him here, unimaginably comfortable splayed out on this couch in yours and Kirishima’s shared apartment – an apartment he, admittedly, spends more time in than his own.

Leaning forward over the coffee table to tap the ash off the joint, you continue your devious nagging. “You share a birthday with weed and you’ve never even tried it. It’s unnatural.”

“Weed does not have a fuckin’ birthday,” he grunts, watching your glossy lips wrap around the thin stick once more. “And Kirishima’s hair is unnatural, you don’t seem to give a shit about that.”

You press on, ignoring the quip. “Uhh weed does have a birthday. And you’re twins. Happy birthday to you both.”

Bakugou snorts, waves away the smoke that swirls up between you, “That shit’s makin’ you sound even dumber than usual.”

“Well it’s making you look less ugly than usual.”

“Ugly, huh? Guess weed turns you into a dummy and a liar.”

Chips and water bottles plop down on the coffee table, interrupting your playful squabbling as Kirishima re-enters the room.

“You don’t gotta do it if you’re scared, bro. I get it, I was super nervous when I first smoked.”

Bakugou scowls over at his friend where he’s settling in on the other side of him. “‘M not scared.”

“Then hit it,” your voice lilts in his ear, a hand coming down to rest on his thigh while the other one brings the joint closer to his face. “Please? Promise we’ll take good care of you.”

His cheeks heat up at that, the implication all too present in the sultry inflection of your voice. In the way your bodies press against either side of him. 

The unspoken suggestion isn’t entirely out of left field. The nature of your triangular relationship is… confusing. More than platonic, less than romantically committed — at least where Bakugou is concerned. But what isn’t confusing is the fact that he already knows both of your bodies intimately, and you his. (Kirishima even more so than you.) 

But he hasn’t known them both at the same time — a fact that has been looming over all three of you for months now.

Apparently you and Kiri have decided that today would be the day. A birthday present for the hot-head you’ve absorbed into your relationship. 

Or maybe you were absorbed into his and Kirishima’s? 

The details are muddled static in Bakugou’s brain, his nerves making his mind race as you both watch him expectantly.

“Bro, you really don’t have to if you don’t—“

He’s cut off by an exasperated growl. “If I hit it, will you both shut up?”

Kiri grins, and the corners of your mouth twitch up, bringing the the joint back into view.

He plucks it from your hand, grumbling that he can do it himself as he brings the papery tip to his lips. Kirishima’s good-natured warnings about not hitting it too hard fall on deaf ears as Bakugou breathes in deep… and immediately sputters a cough into the crook of his arm. You snort and take the offending stick back, Kiri opening a water bottle and handing it over with mumbles of something just a bit nicer than “I told ya so”.

When the coughing fit dies down, there’s a heaviness settled over him, like invisible weights strapped to each of his limbs. His chest burns, and his head is foggy, and Bakugou isn’t sure he really likes the feeling — but then Kiri’s thigh presses against his as he relaxes further into the couch, and you run your hand over his bicep while you ask if he’s ok, and every little touch makes his whole body tingle. And Bakugou… finally gets why people like this shit.

You giggle, and he realizes he’s said that last bit out loud. “See, feels nice, right?”

Time seems to start dragging on a bit slower as the high really settles into his bones, and he feels somehow both profoundly relaxed, and buzzing right down to his nerve-endings all at once. You continue puffing away at the joint, absentmindedly playing with Bakugou’s hair as Kiri puts something on the tv before turning and gesturing for you to pass the weed over. Shaking your head at your boyfriend, you instead beckon him towards you with a crook of your finger. A saucy little “c’mere…” reeling him in closer as you take another big drag from the joint.

The both of you lean over the blonde’s lap, faces coming together just inches in front of his. Bakugou is hyper-focused on the sliver of space between your lips — the way yours purse to blow a slow stream of milky smoke, and Kiri’s fall open to accept your gift. So close, a simple swipe of tongue could connect you. It’s an intimate exchange, thick with a sensuality that Bakugou swears is coating his throat and making it hard to swallow. 

It feels like ages before the two of you finally pull away, and his eyes follow Kirishima as he settles back on his right. Red brows raise at him curiously, chest puffing out as he inhales the smoke a bit deeper. Bakugou is staring, he knows he is. He can’t help it. His friend has always been easy on the eyes — pretty, even. Although, if he ever told him that, he knows he’d chuckle nervously and deny it. So he just stares silently, and thinks it. But Kirishima has an uncanny way of reading his thoughts, better than anyone else in his life.

And this time is no different, amusement pulling up the corners of Kiri’s mouth, boldness guiding his calloused hand to the back of the blonde’s neck as he leans in. There’s a split second of confusion, Bakugou’s mind wading through the molasses of his high to try and catch up with what’s going on, but then Kiri is blowing the smoke still in his lungs right into the space between his lips.

From you, to Kirishima, to him. A link of breaths, an unconventional chain made up of musky smoke and sighs and things unspoken. It tastes nice on Bakugou’s tongue. It doesn’t burn his chest like his first hit did. It’s been cooled in the exchange, the harsh bite of it taken away with each pass from mouth to mouth, leaving him with something light and comfortable and warm.

Bakugou wonders if he deserves that.

Kirishima’s lips brush softly against his. Silent reassurance that he does.

And then, as things tend to do when you’re high and horny, one thing simply leads to another. It’s a whirlwind of kisses and wandering hands, and then the kisses become deeper, bleeding into each other, and the hands wander further, their touch melting together. And Bakugou ends up turned around to face you with Kirishima at his back.

Your tongue in his mouth is familiar, and yet entirely new, and in this state the contrast between kissing you and his best friend becomes even more obvious. While the man behind him feels rugged against his skin, he always kisses gingerly at first, maneuvering slowly, tenderly, like he’s savoring it. Like he’s handling something delicate and skittish. 

You, on the other hand, have lips like velvet, skin supple and smooth where he cradles your face. But you suck harshly and nip at him, pull at his bottom lip with your teeth and smile devilishly when he hisses. 

Where Kirishima is hard, you’re soft – and where you’re rough, he’s gentle. 

You’re halfway onto Bakugou’s lap, straddling one of his thighs and raised up on your knees so he has to tilt his head up to you. Holding his face in your hands, you lick eagerly into his mouth, suck at his tongue when you feel it slide against yours. That pulls a soft groan from his chest, and his hips grind just a bit against your thigh, giving you a preview of his desire in the form of a poke.

One of your hands trails down the side of his neck, over the muscular slope of his chest and the firm valley of his stomach until it’s found its target on the inside of his thigh. Bakugou can’t help but moan when you press your palm into his cock where it’s currently throbbing against him, trapped uncomfortably in the leg of his jeans. 

“So hard already,” you murmur against Bakugou’s mouth as you rub your hand up and down his length. 

“He’s been hard since we started smoking,” Kiri chimes in between wet kisses to his neck.

Bakugou glares back with a lighthearted huff. “Always starin’ at my fuckin’ dick, Red.”

A low chuckle. “Yeah? Am I in trouble?”

“You fuckin’— agh!”

Kirishima bites down on his shoulder, just hard enough to make the blonde’s mouth fall open, and you seize your chance to swallow the sound.

It would be embarrassing, how well the pair of you are currently playing Bakugou like a tuned-up instrument, but the weed has his mind so fogged that all he can feel is the pleasurable heat simmering in his veins. The plushness of your skin in his palms as he runs them over your waist, and the firmness of his childhood friend’s well-built body against his back, and both of your hands and mouths all over him all at once — it’s more than he can handle. So he just lets himself lean further into Kirishima’s familiar hold and watches with heavy-lidded eyes as you pull his shirt over his head and start working his jeans down his legs.

“Gonna let us take care of you, right, birthday boy?” Your voice is a siren song in his ear, gravelly from the smoke you’d inhaled, pitched down with temptation. The snarky comment you’d usually receive in return is lost to a pleasured little nnghh when you lower yourself down and press your warm mouth to his cock through his briefs, flick your tongue out to taste the growing wet spot on the fabric. Then you’re hooking your fingers into the waistband, watching gleefully when you free the rigid length from its confines and it bobs up to hit his toned stomach with a slap. 

All the while Kirishima’s calloused hands explore, tender in their travels, ghosting over scars and squeezing lovingly at the spots that make him crazy (his waist, his pecs, the inner part of his thighs). He hooks his chin over the blonde’s shoulder and licks his lips hungrily at the sight of his cock, which is jumping in frustration as you kiss teasingly over his thighs. 

It’s flushed a heated pink at the tip and oozing dews of precum that are simply too pretty to ignore, so Kiri dips his finger in it, spreads the sticky substance around the head to make it shine before raising his hand back up and watching a thick, clear thread stretch before snapping. 

“Bein’ so good for us,” Kiri murmurs under his breath, a secret for them to share, and brings his finger to his own mouth to taste the salty arousal on it. He rubs the mix of saliva and pre over Bakugou’s nipple, rolls it between his thumb and forefinger. “Let us know if this is too much, ok?” 

And it is too much, but not in a way that’s unpleasant. So Bakugou responds with only a shuddered breath and his head falling back on the redhead’s shoulder, heavy with his high and the creeping heat of pleasure as you finally drag your tongue up the underside of his cock. He lets the bigger man turn his face to the side with a gentle hand, slots his mouth with his in a slow, hungry kiss.

He’s pulsing against your tongue, impossibly hard and aching for the feel of your mouth, and still you take your time. Licking coyly around the head, letting it leak right onto your tastebuds. Bakugou finally finds his voice again to curse down at you, and it comes out hoarse, whinier than you’ve ever heard him. 

“Stop bein’ such a damn cock tease.”

You chuckle, but relent, abandoning your teasing to finally sink your lips down on him. It lights Bakugou on fire, his toes curling and nails digging into Kiri’s forearms where they’re wrapped around his torso. So sensitive. You bob your head up and down slowly at first, then faster, slurping and sucking until you’ve gotten it nice and sloppy – which is when Kiri’s hands come to gather your hair out of your face, holding it all back in one fist and using the other to grip Bakugou’s dick tightly, stroke him right into your mouth. 

You moan approvingly at the addition of your boyfriend’s hand, a sweet little mmnnn that rings out from your throat and vibrates down Bakugou’s length right to his very core. The sound joins the noisy schlickschlick of Kirishima pumping his hand up and down, the movements practiced and effortless as he grips and twists, squeezing more and more precum from the tip for you to eagerly swallow. You stick your tongue out, let Kiri slap the head against it with a cheeky smile spreading your lips and exposing your teeth, far too pleased with the way Bakugou is trying his best to stifle his own moans and keep his hips from rolling.

Wrapping your lips back around the thick cock being jerked off in your face, you hollow your cheeks and suck hard, making your shared victim curse brokenly. You and Kiri exchange a conspiratory look, and then he’s grinning sleepily down at you.

“How’s his cock taste, pretty girl?”

Your lashes flutter and you make a sound that could be “so good” if it wasn’t completely muffled by skin, refusing to pop it back out of your mouth for even a moment to answer. Your boyfriend chuckles, feeling his own cock stir at watching the enthusiastic way in which you suck someone else’s – but his own needs can wait.

“Need some help down there?”

An earnest nod from you, and then Kirishima is shifting carefully from behind the near boneless body in front of him, sinking down onto his knees beside you to properly assist in servicing the birthday boy.

You continue sucking while keeping your gaze on Kiri, now close enough that you can make out the inky dilation of his pupils, the lustful flush on his cheeks. And he watches you, enamored, hypnotized by your fuck-me eyes and the way your lips pout and your cheeks hollow — his sweet little girlfriend with a nasty little mouth. 

“Y’look so pretty with a cock in your mouth,” he muses, and saliva pools in his own when you hum your appreciation and trace your lips down the side of Bakugou’s shaft, giving him access to the other side. He leans in, licks up a pulsating vein with a groan. The taste is distinctly Bakugou, heady and musky and manly. And it’s distinctly you, sweet like those drinks you order, light like your flavored gloss. He goes back for another taste, and then your tongues are dancing in unison over Bakugou’s dick.

“Jesus fuck, that’s so— fuckin’ good—“ Bakugou’s words are clipped and strained as you both slather his dick with your spit. Up and down, up and down the length of him, until you’re meeting at the top and tangling together in a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss around the head.

It’s messy, uncoordinated, drool coating both of your lips and smearing across chins and cheeks. Wet sounds and muffled moans fill the air as you make out with a dick wedged between you. It’s a sight Bakugou had never known he needed to see, but now he’s watching intently, jaw slack and lids heavy, wanting to burn the image into his memory. If his brain wasn’t so scrambled he’d pull out his phone and hit record, keep the moment in his pocket for him to fuck his fist to later.

Wrapped up in the kiss, you both pull away, your hand finding the blonde’s cock to stroke it as you continue exploring Kiri’s mouth. The twist and pull of your palm is slippery, but not slippery enough, so you break the kiss and stick your tongue out. And Kirishima understands exactly what you want, making a show of placing his big hands on either side of your face and tilting it up for him, pressing his lips together and letting spit flow freely down onto your waiting tongue. You turn with a glint in your eye, letting his saliva mix with your own behind your lips before spitting it all out to coat Bakugou’s dick.

A thought flits through his mind about the three-way hit from earlier, but it fizzles out as soon as you suck him sloppily back into your mouth. “Awh, fuck–” 

And then Kiri’s tongue is lapping at his balls, and Bakugou’s head sinks back on the couch cushions. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—“

He feels like jelly, melting right into both of your hungry mouths. Nothing but the sensation of slick lips and warm tongues, and silky spit rolling down his balls and seeping between his thighs. You and Kiri are switching back and forth, sharing him between you like it’s an everyday couple’s activity, one you’re both especially passionate about doing together. It’s insane — you’re both insane, hell-bent on turning him into a puddle right there on your living room couch.

And Bakugou is a puddle, splayed out on the cushions, panting with his head thrown back and his arms crossed over his face, just lost in it. Until Kirishima suddenly sinks his teeth into his inner thigh.

“Agh—!”

Bakugou’s hips jerk involuntarily at the bite, ramming his cock up into your throat as his gaze is forced back to you both kneeled before him. The sound of you gagging stirs Kiri on, and he places a big hand on the back of your neck to keep you in place before delivering another, harsher bite to his friend’s thigh. Another buck of the blonde’s hips and your eyes begin to water. But you look up at him, and through the sparkle of your wet lashes is an expression completely glazed over with lust.

Bakugou sneers down at you, suddenly stirred on just like Kiri. “Y’like that shit?” You don’t have to respond (not that you can, with his girth filling out your mouth), he knows very well how much you do. “Here, take it then.”

And then there are two more hands holding you down, steady against the back of your head to make sure you can’t move away as Bakugou rolls his hips up towards your face. 

“Stick your tongue out, like that, yeah–” 

You obey, and he grunts his approval as he fucks your mouth like it’s nothing more than a warm, wet toy. It’s slow, lazy, but hard and invasive, cock dragging back and forth along your tongue, pumping precum so deep it feels like you might choke on it. Your throat spasms and aches as it takes the sudden beating from his cock head prodding at it, a copious amount of drool filling your mouth as your body’s natural attempt at lubricating. It bubbles around your lips, drips down in thick globs onto his lap. 

And that’s what Bakugou wanted, really, the mess – to see the way tears roll down your cheeks and spit smears on your lips, the way you seem to go perfectly dumb for his dick. It’s cute, honestly, and he can’t help but tell you so, filth tumbling from his mouth as he uses yours to get off.

“So fuckin’ cute,” he says between ragged breaths, “so cute when you’re chokin’ on me. Fuck, yeah, keep that mouth open–”

You’re doing your best to breathe through your nose, taking the rough treatment while trying not to drown in your own spit, when Bakugou suddenly stills his hips and gives your head a hard push down.

“All the way down, like a good little slut,” he grunts, angling his hips up to try and invade your esophagus, feel how tight it is around his aching cock. There’s still so much of him your mouth can’t fit, and you gag hard, instinctually trying to pull off. But you’re met with the resistance of not two, but three strong hands.

Kirishima pushes gently, but firmly, at the back of your neck, coaxing you to take his best friend’s cock further down your throat with coos of encouragement. “There ya go baby,” his voice is husky and dark in your ear, eyes blown and pink-tinged as he watches more of Bakugou’s length disappear past your swollen lips, “be a good girl and swallow that dick.” 

And then something in your throat gives, and your eyes roll back in your head as your lips finally meet a sticky pelvis, nose nuzzling into a dewy nest of dirty-blonde pubes. 

“Ugh– there it is, fuck yeah–” Bakugou groans, deep and guttural as he pumps shallowly up into your throat, the visible bulge in your neck making Kirishima echo him with a lewd groan of his own. The only sounds you can muster are gurgles – besides the obscene wet gluckgluckglucks of your throat being relentlessly fucked, but you can hardly claim that you are the one making those sounds ring out.

You’re finally set free, hands releasing you to shoot back up and gasp for air. You cough and sputter, a hazy smile curling your wet lips up once you’ve caught your breath, and you peer up at Bakugou, who returns your smile with a satisfied smirk of his own. But the cocky expression is quickly wiped off his face when Kiri takes him in his hand and replaces your throat with his own, descending on him with an ease that makes the blonde’s face contort.

Crawling up onto the couch, you smooth your hand down Bakugou’s chest. He looks positively ravaged; Lips reddened from where he keeps pulling them between his teeth, face and chest flushed pink and shining with a light sheen of sweat, honeyed hair mussed by his hands continuously running through it. And his eyes, usually piercing and fiery, have lost their heat. They’re glazed over, glowing with his high and swimming with pleasure.

He’s gorgeous like this, you think, picturesque in his wreckage, and you can’t look away — not when his eyes roll back and his mouth hangs open, not when his hands reach out and tangle in red locs, not when his gaze finally lifts back to you and he tilts his chin up to silently ask for a kiss. You give it to him, of course — it is his birthday, after all — but then you can’t help but nose against his cheek and tease him just a bit.

“And to think, you weren’t gonna smoke with us.”

He grits his teeth into a semblance of a smile, lids heavy as he looks up at you through thick, blonde lashes. “I like ya better with my—hahh— my cock in your throat. Talk a lot less that way.” Another moan seeps from between his lips, eyes darting to watch Kirishima suck at his balls before returning to you. He reaches out, fists impatiently at the hem of your top. “Take this shit off an’ come sit on my face.”

There’s a slick pop and then Kiri is rising to his feet, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and flashing you both a toothy grin. He suggests you all move into the bedroom, squeezing the obvious outline of his hard cock in his pants as he does so, and you’re being scooped up into Bakugou’s strong arms before you can reply.

He pads down the hallway with your legs hugged around his tapered waist and your arms wrapped around his neck. Hands grope roughly at your ass as he carries you easily — which is surprising only because he’s not looking where he’s going, too preoccupied with tasting himself on your tongue.

You’re deposited onto the bed with an oomph, bouncing against the mattress where you’re unceremoniously thrown. You look up to see Bakugou completely naked, cut body glistening in the dim light and cock bobbing heavy between his legs. He’s staring back down at you hungrily, like an animal that’s caught its prey, that sharp look in his carmine eyes back out to play – and you’re suddenly reminded of the incessant throbbing between your legs. 

“I said,” he grips the buttons of your pants, pulls them roughly down your legs as if their presence offends him, “take this shit off.”

You’re stripped and straddling the birthday boy’s face before Kirishima is even back in the room. And when he does return he’s got what’s left of the joint re-lit and held between his lips, water and towels cradled in his arms. He stops in his tracks when he sees the position you two are in; You, with your thighs encasing Bakugou’s head, bent forward and draped over him so your face is right over that pretty cock. And Bakugou, splayed out underneath you, one leg bent and propped up, dick still shining with the evidence of the treatment it had gotten earlier. It’s throbbing and jumping as you grind down onto his face, your lips formed into a cute little ‘o’ as he slurps loudly, shamelessly at your cunt.

Your eyes flutter open when you hear the light crackle of Kiri puffing on the joint, finding him leaned against the door jam, so big he fills up the doorway and his hair brushes against the top of the frame. He’s watching, ruby eyes glittering, taking another lazy drag and blowing the smoke out the side of his mouth. His sexiness is effortless, easy, like it's built right into that sturdy foundation of his – and the sight of him enjoying the sight of you goes straight to your pussy, sends a wave of arousal leaking from your slit and right onto Bakugou’s lips.

You mewl, and Kiri’s eyes wander down your connected bodies, palming at his cock through his pants as he takes you both in. “How’s he doin’, baby girl?”

“Mmnn… good. But he’s so impatient.”

A heavy hand comes down on your ass, squeezing the sting away, and a disapproving grunt vibrates against your clit. Much like you, Bakugou won’t unlatch from you to say what he wants – instead, he’ll scrunch his face up and let your core absorb his words. You imagine it’s something like “shut the hell up” or “it’s my birthday, you fucks” and you let out a snicker, which unravels into a squeak when you get another swat to your ass.

You straighten up and reach out to Kiri, wanting him closer. And he comes easily, tapping out the joint and setting down what he’d brought along, pulling his shirt over his head. He kneels on the bed, and dips his face down to drink up the little sounds spilling from your mouth.

Your fingers trail down the hard ridges of Kiri’s chest as the tip of Bakugou’s tongue trails up your slit. You keep feeling him, feeling the way his broad chest expands with each breath, the way his toned stomach tenses under your touch. He’s so big, muscular in a way that’s so different from the body underneath you; Where Bakugou is cut and rigid, Kirishima is thick, almost soft, the kind of muscle you can sink your fingers into. And you do, squeezing at him, earning happy little sighs breathed onto your mouth, your jaw, the side of your neck.

You’re kissing each other slowly, deeply, and the moment is sweet, yet so nasty — punctuated by the wet sounds of a tongue swirling around your clit. 

Kirishima curses when your hand finally presses against his cock, so hot with neglect that you can feel the warmth through the thick fabric of his pants. You smile against his mouth. “You like watching us, Red?”

His nose nuzzles against yours, panting as you rub harder into him. “Shit… yeah, I do.” A deep, shuddering breath. “A lot.”

“You like sucking dick a lot, too.”

It’s not a question, but Kiri bites at his lip and answers anyway.

“Yeah, I do.” 

You whine, heat crackling in your belly from both the admittance, and the harsh suck to your clit. Kiri adds on with a chuckle, “might like watching you do it more, though.”

Your fingers hook into his waistband and pull his hips forward. “Wanna watch me suck yours now?”

“Thought we were taking care of the birthday boy.”

You bat your lashes, and Kiri truly wants nothing more than to see your eyes water again. 

“I can take care of you both at the same time.”

“Fuck…”

He’s back off the bed and pushing his pants down his thighs without any further discussion, cock bouncing and bending under its own weight as he moves to position himself between Bakugou’s legs. There’s a surprised mmph from underneath you when his knees are pushed open wider to accommodate the larger man, but it tapers off into a low groan when he feels the heaviness of Kirishima’s hard cock slapping down onto his own.

Bending forward at the waist, you grip Kiri’s cock in your hand, so thick that your fingers struggle to connect around its girth, throbbing so hard it seems to grow even bigger in your hold. He watches you with dark eyes as you drag your tongue up the thick vein on the underside, breathes a little “so pretty” when you look back up at him. 

You flick your tongue teasingly at the tip and pull back so the sticky fluid of his arousal connects you for just a moment, before you wrap your lips around it to suck the rest off. He’s salty, musky, hot and heavy — adding to the growing cocktail of sin filling your senses and making your head spin.

You’re quick to try taking him all the way in your mouth, egged on by your own arousal, and gag hard when he hits the back of your throat. Kiri groans, tucking your hair out of your face gently as he keeps himself from snapping his hips forward and forcing his cock all the way in, despite how he knows you wouldn’t mind – despite how badly he wants to. Instead he watches you strain to fit him in your mouth, the way your lips stretch around him and your cheeks fill out with his girth. It’s almost better than forcing it – watching you work so hard to do it yourself. 

You bob and slurp, use your hand to stimulate what won’t fit in your mouth. And more and more drool collects around his cock, pools in your fist and drips slowly down onto Bakugou’s dick underneath it. 

“Ohhh shit, yeah–” the man above you pants, strokes sweetly at your cheek, “get it nice an’ wet…”

Holding him tightly in your fist, you dip your head down to lick up the spit that’s landed on the blonde’s milky skin, earning a desperate roll of his narrow hips. You wrap your lips around him next, let the redhead jerk his cock over your face while he watches – the way you know he loves to do – before switching back. You keep working like that, going back and forth from cock to cock, sucking Bakugou eagerly into your mouth and then letting Kiri guide you back with a gentle hold on your chin.

All the while, you’re giving Bakugou a view to rival the double blowjob – your cunt spread and bent over in his face, skin so wet and soft it’s like satin, pretty hole leaking endlessly down onto his tongue. He’s shameless, the way he digs his fingers into the fat of your ass, uses rough thumbs to pull your pussy lips apart before spitting right into it. He flattens his tongue, catches the drip and tastes you from clit to slit, then buries it in that little hole, spearing you on it like a man out to kill. You squeak, try to wriggle away, but he hooks his arms around your thighs and pulls you back down with a growl of “don’t you fuckin’ move” before diving back in.

The way he fucks you on his tongue is for him, really, not for you – but even so, the way the muscle stretches you out, swirls and flicks inside you as it tries desperately to push deeper, to taste deeper, it feels so nasty. So good. You arch your back, moan around Kiri’s cock about how good his tongue feels, and Bakugou just smirks against your cunt. Pleased with himself. He knows it’s fuckin’ good — he knows how to make you squirm.

He runs a thumb through your folds, wets it with the mixture of your slick and his spit, before circling it into your clit. It’s swollen, throbbing under the pad of his thumb, and your walls tighten, gush more bittersweet juice for him to drink up.

Kiri’s dick pops out of your mouth as you’re overtaken by the sudden swell of pleasure, and you cry out a shrill warning.

“Fuckfuck, Katsuki, if you keep doing that–”

“Do it,” he says, gruff and demanding, “fuckin’ give it to me.”

So Kirishima takes over in your mission of taking care of them both — presses his sticky cock up against Bakugou’s and fists them both together to the sight of you losing yourself. You’re bracing yourself with both hands on Bakugou’s stomach, tits pushed together so pretty between your arms, eyes rolling shut and mouth falling open on a moan. 

Kirishima is slack-jawed as he watches you buck and grind, fucking yourself back on his friend’s tongue. So beautiful chasing your own high. His fist is slipping quickly over both their cocks, squeezing them together tightly, rutting his hips and sending shockwaves of pleasure through them both. 

“Fuck, Ei, s-slow the fuck down” — is what Bakugou tries to say, but it comes out garbled, slurred into your skin. He’s so sensitive, and everything is so wet. Your pussy dripping, his chin slippery, his dick and Kirishima’s sliding over each other and squelching lewdly. And you’re all in his senses, coating his tongue, filling his every breath, singing like an angel as you tell him you’re gonna cum, you’re gonna cum right on his face —

So his hips jerk, and his voice strains in his throat, and he shoots his load hard, all up his stomach and onto his chest and between Kiri’s fingers. It just keeps coming, makes a mess of his torso and collects in Kirishima’s hand, coats both their cocks in milky white that he keeps pumping up and down the length of them.

And the sight is so messy, so filthy, both cocks sliding against each other, frothing with a gooey mixture of pre, spit, and cum. It makes that swelling wave of heat in your core grow bigger, bigger still — and Kirishima sees it on your face, whines as he overstimulates Bakugou and brings himself closer to the edge, encouraging you to “let it go, baby— there ya go, cum right on his tongue—” 

And then the wave is suddenly crashing, white-hot and roaring in your ears. 

You’re trembling, crying out, grinding down on Bakugou’s tongue, which he now has outstretched for you, hands digging desperately into your hips as he bucks into Kirishima’s fist – still, somehow, able to keep his composure enough to help you ride out your orgasm. Lightning is shooting up his spine, making him twitch and moan, but your release washing over his tongue may as well be the god damn elixir of life. He can see your pussy clenching, see it leaking liquid gold right onto his face, and it tastes like paradise in his mouth. He’s focused on slurping it up, making you scream and gyrate as pleasure wracks your body like something violent and unforgiving.

And, like some sort of carnal chemical reaction, Kiri grabs hold of your face, moans a strained “cumming— oh shit i’m cumming—!” into your mouth as he follows you both over the edge. He bucks once, twice in his fist and then his balls are tightening where they’re sliding against the other man’s, and he’s spilling over, thick and hot into his hand. 

It mixes with Bakugou’s cum, almost indiscernible from it as ropes shoot up and land on his stomach. But it’s thicker, heavier, it doesn’t reach all the way up to his collarbones. And there’s more of it, so much more that it splatters the smaller man with white, pools in the deep grooves of his abs and sticks there.

You’re all panting hard when you finally roll over and collapse into the sheets. It’s hot, stiflingly so, sweat collecting in the crease of your thighs – or is that your own cum? 

The boys breathe deep next to you, Kirishima sat on his knees, Bakugou with his arms up over his face. It’s silent for a moment, besides the sounds of you all gasping, and the hammering in your own chest.

You let your head roll to the side, checking that your partners are still alive, and are met with the sight of Bakugou’s torso absolutely painted with white. 

A stunned exhale. “Holy shit…”

Kiri’s eyes slide to you, dazed. “You ok?”

“Yeah, that is just… so much cum. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that much cum before. It’s like, cartoonish.”

There’s a choking sound – a snort – and then Bakugou is laughing, big and boisterous, mouth wide and teeth bared. It fills the room like fireworks, so bright it lights up yours and Kiri’s faces too. 

“Stop laughing,” Kirishima chuckles, clean hand forming a cup by Bakugou’s side to catch the cum currently sliding down it, “it’s gonna get on the sheets.”

“Well then gimme a fuckin’ towel, dumbass.”

The smell of sex and smoke hangs heavy in the air. It sticks to your skin, makes you feel tacky as you shift in the bedsheets. You reach out to take the joint (well, the burnt nub that’s left) from between Kiri’s fingers, puffing on it gingerly before blowing some into Bakugou’s mouth. He’s decided he likes it better that way – straight from your or Kirishima’s lungs.

“Doesn’t burn so damn much,” he’d grumbled when he’d asked you to do it for him. You’d rolled your eyes, but leaned in to give him some of your breath anyways. 

You’re all still half naked, you in one of Kiri’s t-shirts and the boys both in briefs. Laid out on soiled sheets as a thin haze fills the room, basking in the humid afterglow of your orgasms. Maybe it’s the weed, maybe it’s the three of you together, but you feel so profoundly comfortable that you find yourself sighing deeply and smiling up towards the ceiling. 

“What?” Bakugou eyes you from where he lies beside you, noticing the little quirk of your lips – which he often does, notices your little tells.

“Nothing, just high. And happy.” You roll onto your side, passing the joint back to Kiri as you prop your head up in your hand, “is that a crime?”

“The first one is in a lot of places, yeah. Maybe I’ll call the cops on ya. Turn your ass in.”

You push playfully at Bakugou’s chest, and he catches your wrist in his hand with a wolfish grin, holding you there against him. 

You jut your chin out at him defiantly. “Eiji’ll bail me out.”

Bakugou glances down to where the redhead is laid across the foot of the bed, his head resting on the blonde’s thigh with a hand behind his neck. Your gaze follows when your boyfriend stays silent for a beat too long, mouth falling open with an incredulous call of “Babe?” 

Kirishima blows smoke up into the air with a sigh, drags out his words like they’re hard to say. “Yeah, I would.”

“Tch. So fuckin’ soft for this brat.”

Leaning your weight on Bakugou’s chest, you lift yourself up over him to gloat – like a brat. “Jealousy’s really ugly on you, Kats–”

The room blurs as he flips you over, appearing on top of you in a second with a snarl. You kick your legs as he slots himself between them, giggling and beating at his chest with your fists – which he intercepts easily, gathering your wrists in one hand to pin over your head. 

“Y’talk a lotta shit for someone so weak.”

Fingers dig roughly into your sides, making you yelp and squirm against his weight, which is pressed down onto you, keeping you firmly in place. “Go ahead, brat – talk your shit.” He forces more gasps of laughter from you with a twisted grin, eyes on fire. “Can’t fuckin’ hear you, speak up!”

“Eiji, help me!”

And then, magically, the weight is lifted off of you. 

In a flash, Bakugou is laid out on his back, hands pinned by his head, held in place by two larger ones. He looks a lot like you just did, fighting and huffing – except he’s actually giving his captor some hell, Kirishima flexing and gritting his teeth as he holds him down on the bed.

It’s lighthearted, grunted laughter slipping out between heavy breaths. But it’s also intense, in the way two men wrestling just inherently is.

Locking limbs and bulging muscles, so much power packed into each strained movement and kept from exploding outward only by the strength of the other. Like two stags connected by twisted antlers, they’re opposing forces keeping them firmly in place. It gives you the impression that if you were to be wedged in between them, they’d crush you. And that… excites you.

Bakugou hooks his legs around Kiri’s waist with a biting smile, muscles tensing as he tries to twist and buck him off – and the bigger man falters, almost flips over, but slams the blonde back down with a smile of his own.

“Get off me you fuckin’ brute!”

A breathless laugh from Kirishima, red hair shaking loose around his face. “Oh I’m a brute?”

“Yeah!” One of Bakugou’s hands slips free and he claps it around the back of Kiri’s neck, pulling him down until their foreheads are knocking together. “You are.”

And then there’s a shift, the energy suddenly heavy. No longer playful, but thick and serious. Wanton.

They’re panting, naked chests pressed together, expanding in time with each other. Bakugou huffs, his eyes flickering down to Kiri’s mouth. There’s a moment of anticipation, suspended and buzzing in the air, heating up until it starts to boil.

“All that hair dye’s gone right to your fuckin’ brain.” Bakugou’s voice is low, breath puffing against parted lips. Kirishima’s nose slides against his. “Made you a damn animal.”

“Whatever you say.”

And then they’re meeting in the middle, mouths coming together in a heated kiss. Kiri’s face pressing down, Bakugou’s chin lifting to chase after that pressure. The redhead’s tongue darts out, asks for entry at the seam of his partner’s lips. And the blonde gives it willingly, passionately, answering with an eager tongue of his own.

They kiss like that for a moment, hot and heavy, pushing and pulling, exploring each other’s mouths like new lovers and not like ones who have been here many times before. Their skin glistens and muscles ripple, tangled so tightly in each other that it’s almost hard to tell where one ends and the other begins. And you can only watch, feeling like you shouldn’t be — like a voyeur.

And that seems to make your whole body hot.

It’s almost like you’re watching through a screen, a slab of glass fogged over by your high and the haze of smoke, and the thick steam that is your own desire — until suddenly that screen is punctured, a hand reaching out through the fog. 

Kirishima pulls you into their orbit gently, but with a strength that makes you feel comfortable, like you can lean all the way into it and not float away. His hand cradles the side of your neck, coaxes you to come closer and kiss him. His lips are already wet and swollen, and they taste slightly different — an added sweetness you can’t quite place. Before you can think about it too long, another hand is redirecting you down, Bakugou stealing your lips away.

Wet sounds and pleasured sighs trickle through the air, you and Bakugou locked together hungrily as Kiri litters kisses down the smaller man’s chest. He takes his time running his tongue over the skin, sucking at it, tasting the sweat there — gratuitously, selfishly, knowing Bakugou won’t hurry him along like he usually does. Not with you tugging at this scalp and moaning into his mouth.

Kirishima is not a selfish lover, not by any means, but he’s also not wholly an angel. So he takes what he can get when he can get it. And right now that means taking advantage of the time he has, descending slowly. Slipping Bakugou’s briefs down his legs and running his lips along the scattered freckles on the insides of his thighs and hips. He could stay just like this, ruby eyes cast up to watch you both indulge in each other, while he indulges in the body beneath him.

But then he gets a little too eager, pushing Bakugou’s legs open wide and breathing a small “fuck…” at the sight of his hole before dipping down to taste it.

Bakugou breaks the kiss, gaze dragged down by the slick feeling of a tongue between his cheeks. His mouth falls open, face feverish as his hand moves to cup his balls, kneading them softly and holding them out of the way to give Kiri better access.

Kirishima’s tongue snakes out, big and thick just like the rest of him, and runs achingly slow over the little ring of muscle. Around and around in deliberate, wet circles. Then he’s drooling down onto it just to lap it back up with a wide, flattened tongue. His eyes flicker down, taking in the wet mess he’s already made before he dips the tip in, stuffs as much of the muscle as he can into the tight hole with a hungry groan. 

It’s a different kind of intimacy, watching them like this, and it fills your face with warmth and drips down your spine. Has your hand traveling absentmindedly between your legs to satiate the ache that’s returned there. The way Bakugou’s head falls back on the mattress, the way Kiri looks up at him with eyes that are both soft and yet sharply calculating — it’s different. You’ve never seen them like this, the way they were together far before you were ever in the mix, at least not at this level of vulnerability. And maybe it should make you feel jealous, or unsure of your place, but, truthfully, all you feel is a burning, unmitigated need.

You almost forget that you’re even there — physically there — until a big hand is cupping one of your tits, an arm hooking behind your back and pulling you close again. Propped up now on his elbow, Bakugou twists his body to peck at the side of your breast and squeeze the other in his palm. He laves his tongue over it, scrapes his teeth along it with a pant before sucking a bruise into the skin. His face is hot where it buries into you, his breath even hotter where it huffs out against the new, wet bloom of red. He looks up at you through heavy lids, brows pinching as Kiri licks sloppily at his fingers and pushes two in.

“Just gonna watch, y’little perv?”

You raise your brows at him, swipe your tongue over your lips. “Maybe– unless you’d like me to do something else.”

He nods down, towards where his cock sits oozing fresh precum onto his abdomen. “Come sit on it.”

You want to, your body’s aching for it, walls clenching at the thought of it stretching you out. You can imagine distinctly how it fills you, how it hits certain spots so perfectly. The memories alone making your stomach tight with need. But you narrow your eyes anyways and say, “that’s a funny way to ask.”

He smiles sleepily, and his eyes rove down your body — and Bakugou realizes, that he’s the weak one. Weak from the weed, weak from the way Kiri works him open, weak from the sight of your cunt wrapping so pretty around your fingers. But, somehow, in this moment, he’s comfortable in that weakness.

So he sucks at his teeth, closes his eyes for a moment before looking back up to you.

“I need you. Fuck– need’a feel your pussy on me.”

The please sits heavy in his eyes. He doesn’t say it, but you hear it nonetheless. 

You press forward, slot your mouth with his and let him wrap his arms around you to pull you onto him. Swinging your leg over his body, you come to rest atop him, hovering your hips over his just so until he’s growling in frustration and pulling you closer. Closer, he wants you closer – wants you both so much fuckin’ closer. So he hugs you against his sweat-dampened chest with strong arms, opens his knees wider and thrusts up to rub himself against you. 

The hot length of him sliding through your folds makes you gasp, and your body reacts on its own to grind back down on it. That’s all it takes to get it slippery, your pussy so wet already, leaking slick onto his skin and making it shine. 

With three fingers now stuffed knuckle-deep in Bakugou’s hole, Kirishima is getting impatient. His cock is so hard again that it hurts, throbbing in anticipation of feeling that elastic tightness currently gripping around his fingers. And now he’s watching you roll your hips back, seeing the evidence of how wet you are right there on the underside of Bakugou’s cock every time you roll them forward again. He’s squeezing his own cock at the sight, pushing his briefs down to free it so he can spit down on it.

You keep working yourself up, teasing yourself with slow grinds, letting the ridges of Bakugou’s hard cock stimulate your sensitive clit. His lips ghost against your jaw, teeth nipping lightly. “You want it?” He asks, breathy, just as worked up as you are. “Want my dick inside you?”

“Yes,” you feel him pant against your cheek, his cock pulse against your sex, “I want it so bad.”

“You want it so bad, put it inside you, then.”

Eagerly, you reach back behind you, wrap your fingers around his throbbing cock and swipe it through your folds once, twice, before slotting the tip at your entrance. Then, finally, you sink down.

There’s a resounding curse as your pussy starts to swallow Bakugou’s cock. 

From you, as you’re slowly filled to the brim with heat, his cock rigid and heavy as it makes room for itself inside you, the ache in your core finally soothed by the heady feeling of being completely full. 

From Bakugou, as your walls start to envelop him, quivering and squeezing around him, so snug and warm and wet that he can feel your arousal coating him and rolling down his balls. 

And from Kirishima, as he watches it all happen, sees the way you open up so eagerly for cock, the way your cunt gushes around it, the intrusion pushing your juices right out. The way it splits open and sucks in inch after inch after inch, until his cock has disappeared completely inside of you. 

Once you’re sitting all the way down, ass meeting skin, your clit resting against blonde curls, Kiri decides he can’t wait any longer.

You’re tipped forward as Bakugou’s legs are pushed open and back, and then you feel his breath hitch beneath you when Kiri’s dick begins to sink into him. 

“Oh— fuck—!” His jaw goes slack, eyes wide and brow furrowed, as he’s stuffed completely and utterly full of Kiri’s cock. It’s huge, a fact you know well, so you coo your encouragement into his skin, kiss down his jaw and the side of his neck with each reassuring whisper. 

“Ohh god, that’s so good,” Kiri sighs, eyes trained down to where his dick is being swallowed up, girth squeezed so tight it’s almost painful, “Takin’ me so, so well. Shit, so tight—“

The little, pink ring sucks him in deeper, stretching impossibly far around his thick cock. Kiri spits down on it, spreads it over his free length with his hand then pushes the fluid in with a shallow thrust. He does it again, slowly, answering each one of Bakugou’s choked groans with sweet, albeit equally choked words of praise. 

And you sit there, patiently, tasting Bakugou’s skin and scratching lightly at his scalp with his cock nestled inside you. 

The sensations are overwhelming — the impossible fullness in his ass, the delicious sting of Kiri working his cock in deeper and deeper. And the snug fit of your pussy around him, damp walls clenching every so often, like a warm, wet hug for his aching cock. His dick is jumping and tensing inside you, no doubt coating your insides with more and more sticky arousal with each careful push of Kiri’s hips.

And then Kirishima is finally buried to the hilt, balls meeting the tight muscle of his ass, and the long, low groan Bakugou lets out seems to vibrate right up your spine.

Kiri pulls out, the tight ring squeezing like a vice the whole way, and then slams back in.

“Fuck!” Bakugou’s face is pinched and flushed, sweat beading on his forehead when he pleads with you in a strained voice. “Need you to move. N-need you to ride me…” And this time he says it out loud, a hoarse and needy “Please.”

So you move for him, push your hips back on him so his cock is sliding slowly in and out of your pussy. It glides easily, so slippery with the mix of your juices and all the precum he was leaking right into you. You roll your hips steadily back and forth, back and forth, pulling pretty moans from Bakugou’s lips with each careful movement.

Strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you down and hugging you close, and then a new set of hands is gripping your ass. Kiri pulls you open, squeezing hard as he watches the dick slide in and out of your wet pussy, watches your silky skin hug and drag every time you roll your hips up. 

He has the most perfect view of you creaming around Bakugou’s cock, making a mess of white that coats it and collects right around the base. It makes his mouth water — so he spits down on your ass, watches the glob drip onto your hole and down over the dick you’re impaled on. It mixes with the fluids there, makes it even wetter, messier.

“Fuck, that’s so hot. Look at you…”  He murmurs, awe-struck, snapping his hips harder into Bakugou as his big hands push and pull on you, guiding you back and forth on another man’s dick. “Ride that dick, baby. So pretty… God damn, these holes are so pretty.”

“Y’like what you see, Red?” Comes your voice, sickeningly sweet as you smile over your shoulder at him.

“Mmm yeah, look so pretty stuffed with cock.” A smile of his own playing on his lips when he adds, “Both of you do.”

You send your hips back again, slowly, teasingly, and Kiri’s gaze drops back down to watch your pussy swallow Bakugou’s length. And right underneath that is Bakugou’s ass swallowing his length, over and over with each buck of his hips. Both holes so greedy, so wet and tight and eager for cock — the sight alone is overwhelming, downright pornographic, and Kiri feels his stomach tighten up with the tell-tale sign of his release—

So he pulls out, clenches his jaw and grips the base of his dick to stop himself from cumming so soon. “Shit, I almost…” He laughs, light and breathy, as he cards his other hand through his hair. “Just need a second.”

Fingers gripping your chin pull your attention back, Bakugou catching your mouth in a needy kiss before grinning up at you. The mist in his eyes has parted, nothing but fire outlining the deep, dilated black of his pupils.

His voice is quiet, but rough when he tells you, “‘m gonna fuck you now.”

You don’t have time to respond before you’re being flipped over. (Not that a response is needed. It wasn’t a question.)

You’re on your back once more, your legs being pushed open by hands cupped under your knees, Bakugou mounting you with a tongue swiping hungrily over his teeth. He slides his dick back inside you in one foul swoop, the head of his cock hitting your walls hard and knocking a shrill cry from your throat.

He’s so pent up from having you grind on him slowly, being a puddle underneath you despite aching with the animalistic need to pound you, that he just can’t hold back. He’s ruthless, needing to fuck you hard and fast and mean – and your pussy responds so beautifully, syrupy juices gushing out around his dick, practically spraying all over him with the force of his thrusts.

“God, this pussy’s so fuckin wet. So fuckin’ sloppy. All for me, yeah?”

Your staccato moans are the only answer you give – besides the loud squelch of your cunt when he buries himself to the hilt.

“Say it,” he spits, squeezing your face in his hands to force you to focus on him, “say it’s all for me.”

So you do — you chant it like a holy truth, with your eyes on him and your legs shaking. “All for you, it’s all for you!”

You’re rewarded with a more violent snap of his hips, pulling all the way out and slamming back in. “That’s. fucking. right.” He’s growling down at you, crazed, punctuating each word with a wet slap of skin.

“You like bein’ a little slut for us don’tcha, princess?” He drills you into the mattress, pinning both of your legs back, bending you painfully so he can fuck into you deeper. “Like bein’ my little cocksleeve?” 

All you can do is squeal, mind going blank as he bullies into you — so he answers for you, he knows the answer anyways. “Fuck yeah, you do.” Another hard thrust, and you’re sliding further up the bed. His hands hot, possessive when he drags you back. “Nasty little bitch — god, this pussy feels so fuckin’ good—“

But then he’s falling forward, being pushed forward, catching himself with his hands on either side of your head. He shoots a glare behind him, spits a “what the fuck” back at Kirishima, who has a hand braced on the blonde’s shoulder and his eyes cast down.

Kiri grabs hold of the smaller man’s hip, squeezing as he pushes into him, in turn pressing Bakugou further into you. A collective hiss echoes through the room.

Kiri is sheathed back inside him and, like a switch being flipped, Bakugou goes silent. His breaths are ragged, his eyes glazed. His hips still. 

Kirishima pulls out, then fucks back into him just once, making Bakugou’s cock reach even deeper inside of you with the force of his thrust.

“Don’t stop.” A firm command, punctuated by soft kisses to Bakugou’s back. “Keep fucking her.”

Bakugou grits his teeth, breathing a curse out between them, then sets his jaw hard with determination and rocks his hips again. And Kiri stays still, lets him fuck himself back on his cock.

The blonde pulls out and slams back in, over and over, harder and harder, resuming his brutal pace. He’s fucking into you feverishly, spearing himself on Kiri’s dick as he spears you with his, seesawing back and forth between the two. 

“Ohhh fuck… there you go, good boy.” A big hand appears, wrapping loosely around Bakugou’s throat, fingers gripping right under his jaw to tilt his head up and make his back arch. Not choking but possessing, commanding. Dominating. The blonde pants, eyes rolling back, hips moving faster as he succumbs to the will of the man deep in his ass — and he looks positively blissful doing it.

Kirishima leans in and presses a cheek to his temple, eyes dark and piercing as he grips his jaw tighter. “Keep going just like that. Make her cum for us.”

Then he turns his gaze down to you. “Be a good girl and play with your pussy while he fucks you.”

You’re quick to obey, fingers finding your clit to rub fast, harsh circles into it. You were already close, dangling right on the edge from Bakugou’s rough treatment. And now the way your boyfriend is looking at you, looming over you both in a way that’s so different than you’ve ever seen him — you’re practically boiling over with desire.

Bakugou keeps fucking you, hard and deep, caught in between the heat of your cunt and the stretch of Kiri’s dick, and the sounds he’s making are downright sinful. Grunts and whines and broken curses that meld together in his mouth, sometimes spilling right over your lips, sometimes being swallowed by Kiri as his face is turned back by a hand on his jaw. He’s taken Kirishima’s cock before, and he’s given you his, but both at the same time has his eyes rolling so far up into his head that he can’t see straight.

He looks totally wrecked, completely fucked out, glassy-eyed and flushed and panting like a dog — it’s egging you on, making you rub your engorged nub faster as you feel pleasure winding tightly in your core.

And Kiri sees it on your face, so he brings his lips closer to Bakugou’s ear. His voice like cocoa, dripping dark and sweet.

“Want you to tell me when you feel her cumming, Katsuki. Tell me when you feel her gush on your dick.”

And something about that – being talked about like you’re not there, like you’re just a toy being shared, or a precious little pet being played with – makes the tether in you suddenly snap.

You do gush, hard, shrill chants of “ohmygod, ohmygod” and “yes, yes, yes” joining the chorus of wet sounds as you cum on Bakugou’s dick. His eyes go wide in realization before they’re rolling back, lashes fluttering against his cheeks. He groans long and low at the feeling of your walls clenching around him, leaking more and more slick that he fucks right out of you with each stroke. 

“Ohhh fuck— I feel it—! She’s so, f-fucking tight. So wet.”

Kirishima smiles, big and wicked, then reaches out to grab hold of your hips before plowing forward. 

He pounds hard and fast into Bakugou, big hands wrapped around your hips for leverage, trapping him between you. Each thrust is an explosive chain reaction — Kiri fucking into Bakugou, forcing Bakugou to fuck into you. You’re caged underneath the blonde, his forearms on the bed and his chest pressed to yours, his eyes squeezed shut as Kiri gives him every thick, rigid inch like a man possessed.

It’s merciless, the way Kirishima is manhandling you both, the mattress squeaking and the headboard thudding against the wall. And it’s hot, all of you damp with sweat, two hulking forms crowded over you and making you feel like a small animal caught in a trap. 

Your head digs back into the cushion, back arching off the bed, fingers scratching mindlessly at the sheets as you’re fucked into oblivion. You’re given no chance to come down from your high, everything so swollen and sensitive as your orgasm is prolonged past the point of sanity. 

Bakugou is so deep inside you, reaching so far up into your cunt that you swear you can feel him in your throat. Every pull has him dragging deliciously against your walls, and every push has him carving out the space again, his tip hammering right into your sweet spot like a pleasurable punch to the gut. You scream, babble incoherently about how deep he is, how it’s too much, how you can’t take it.

And Bakugou echoes you, voice hoarse and face pinched.

“Fuck— W-wait— if you keep— I’m g-gonna—“

Kiri shushes him, kisses his shoulder, coos so sweetly as he continues his relentless assault on both of your holes. “Take it a little longer, baby. Doin’ so good, so fuckin’ good for me.”

“Fuck , Ei—!“

“Go ahead.” Sweat rolls down his temple, red hair sticking to his forehead. He cranes his neck down, watches Bakugou’s ass swallow him up with a groan. “Cum for us. Do it inside her. Let it all out in that pussy.”

You’re practically brainless at this point, wet and warm and perfectly pliant underneath them, but Kiri’s filthy command brings you back down to earth. You hook your arms around Bakugou’s shoulders, as if he can be anymore trapped, and plead breathlessly for his cum.

“Please! Give it to me, please—!”

His eyes open, fiery red reappearing from behind his lids as he takes in the desperate, fucked out look on your face. He feels his balls tighten, stomach tingling — aching to give you exactly what you want. “Fuck, you want it? Want this load in your cunt?”

You nod furiously, open your legs up wider, wanting him deeper. “Fill me up, Kats. I want it— want it so fucking bad.”

A loud curse and another hard thrust, and his own hips start matching Kiri’s rhythm, chasing the slippery drag of your walls. You’re so tight around him, almost like your body knows what’s coming and is trying to milk it right out of him. 

“God damn— I’m gonna cum, gonna dump it all so deep inside you.” He burrows his face in your neck, his voice shaky and vibrating against your skin. “Fuck, take it— take all my fuckin’ cum—!”

Burying himself to the hilt, he gives it to you, shoots it all out against your walls, his dick pulsing so hard with each thick rope that you can feel it. It’s warm, flooding your insides with heat that spills out around his cock and trickles down your ass in hot, gooey trails.

And Kirishima feels it too, his cock caught in a vice-like grip as the muscles around it contract. He can barely move, sucked in by Bakugou’s orgasm, but each twitch and squeeze feels so unbelievably good — he throws his head back and lets the pleasure wash over him, pumping his cum right into that tight, needy hole. And then he pulls out, fists his cock wildly and shoots the rest of it out onto Bakugou’s ass. 

The redhead is panting as he strokes the last bit of cum from his tip, grabbing a handful of the blonde’s taut cheek to pull him open and watch the mess of white dribble from his loosened hole. There’s so much of it, oozing out in thick globs over his balls, dripping down to mix with the cum slipping out of you and coating his dick. “Such a mess…” he chuckles under his breath as he shifts out of the way enough for Bakugou to roll off of you.

But then a rough hand is tangling in his hair, pulling the redhead down towards your used up pussy as warm cum continues to seep out of it. Bakugou’s face comes right up to his, nose to cheek, with a nasty grin splitting his lips open.

“Then clean it up.”

Kirishima’s face is pushed down between your legs, and you gasp at the sudden contact of his mouth. His tongue is downright greedy as it laps the bittersweet cum from your folds, and you’re so sore and sensitive that you immediately whine and try to scoot away.

Two muscular arms hook tightly around your thighs, Kiri pulling you back in and looking up at you with big, pleading eyes. “Stay still, baby, please,” his tongue darts out again, groaning low at the taste, “gonna clean you right up, ok?”

“S-so sensitive—!”

“I know, baby girl, I know. Just let me…” But he can’t finish his thought, lashes fluttering as he continues licking up the cum from your entrance. The mix of you and Bakugou swirls around on his tastebuds, makes him dizzy with desire. He extends his tongue, drags it all the way up from your ass, letting it dip into your slit and collect more of the mixture for him to hungrily swallow.

It’s filthy, watching your boyfriend eat another man’s cum out of you like he’s starving for it — and you’re already so sensitive, your clit engorged and your folds swollen from friction. A thick finger pushes inside you, sinking knuckle deep to scoop more cum out of you, and your back arches high off the bed.

“Ohhhh— ohmygod fuck!”

Bakugou is right behind Kiri, watching with low eyes and a snarling smile. He pushes the bigger man’s face harder into you, laughs meanly when you gasp.

“What was that shit you told me?” He rasps, craning his neck down to talk in Kirishima’s ear. “Tell me when you feel her gush.”

It’s like a game between them, and you’ve somehow become the ball.

There’s an excited glint in Kiri’s eyes when he opens them again to stare up at you, plunging another finger into you and curling them hard as he latches his lips onto your clit. You writhe in the sheets, bucking and squirming as you’re overstimulated. But Kiri keeps you firmly in place, holding you down like it’s nothing with a thick arm barred over your hips, and quickly brings you back to the edge.

But this time is different, your insides so swollen from the beating they’d gotten, so sensitive from your last mind-numbing orgasm, so responsive to the beckoning curl of his big fingers… You feel it, the intense build of pressure, and your eyes go wide, pleas to wait and hold on tumbling from your lips as your body curls in on itself. But Kiri just keeps going, grunts his encouragement onto your clit as he sucks and licks it, flexes his forearm as he fucks you even harder on his fingers — and you fall right apart with a scream and a rush of fluids.

“Ohh shit!” Bakugou laughs as Kiri pulls his face away. 

The redhead braces a hand on your abdomen and pushes down to keep you still, then hooks his fingers into you, moving his arm hard to attack that spongy spot and fuck more squirt out of you. It sprays violently out of your cunt as you scream, showering them both in your essence, so much that it drips down their bare chests and soaks the sheets.

Bakugou slaps at your clit as you come down, laughs again when you buck up involuntarily. “Now that’s a fuckin’ mess.”

They’re both glistening, Kiri’s face dripping, droplets of your cum snaking down their stomachs. It’s nasty, everything muggy and wet and covered in somebody’s cum.

And you all look downright blissful about it, panting heavy and smiling like cats that got all of the cream.

Bakugou reaches out, kisses Kirishima hard and licks the taste of you off his mouth. Then he’s pulling you up and pressing his lips to yours, passing the sweetness on to you.

“Happy fuckin’ birthday to me.”

ate per usual

all yours

when it came to your safety, onyankopon played zero games. if he felt even the slightest bit of worry he had no problem getting you from wherever you may be. there have been times where you’ve been walked out of parties, stores, and even something as little as a smoke sesh with your girls. if ony felt you were unsafe you were going home no questions asked, and you honestly didn’t have an issue with it. feeling a sense of pride in having a man that cares so deeply for you. that was until tonight…

the two of you were at your friend ivy’s place for her big housewarming party when you were getting weird stares from a couple hating ass bitches. ivy didn’t want her party to be small so she told each person she invited to tell some friends to come as well. which led to this weird ass bitch brielle hearing about the party and deciding to curse everyone with her presence. brielle was an old fling of ony’s that he been cut off like a year ago, but she’s so thick in the head that she still runs her mouth about him to this very day. you, being the classy woman you are, have been ignoring the bitch because it honestly was sad of her to be acting like this, but today she reached her limit.

when you and ony first arrived everything was great. “heyy bitchhhh. so glad y’all could make ittt.” ivy screamed as she welcomed you and ony into her new home. ony greeted her with a small “wassup, thank you for havin’ us” before letting you have the floor, walking towards jean and connie to talk. “hey boooo. this place is niceeee you gotta let me spend the night sooon” the two of you talked for awhile before she let you go to get a drink from the kitchen. as you filled your red solo cup halfway with casamigos you noticed some girls approaching where your boyfriend and his friends were. before being able to move, you were stopped by sasha, mikasa and.

sasha was the first to talk. “you peep that shit right?” she said, nodding her head towards the girls. you knew if one of your friends was going to say something about what was going on it would be sasha. mikasa was on the quieter side, but best believe when it came to you she didn’t play either. “yea i see em. that bird ass bitch and her lil flock of pigeons tryna play games” the three of you watched as brielle and her little sidekicks were all up in you boyfriend’s faces. brielle being the main one, lightly hitting ony’s chest while she laughed. her red bussdown was flowing behind her as she pushed it over her shoulder, purposely trying to bounce her tiddies as she “fixed” her hair.

being the levelheaded woman you are, you decided against approaching them. knowing that you’d probably knock the bitches head off her shoulders if you went anywhere near her right now. so you pulled out your phone and sent ony a quick and simple text. ony looked at his phone almost immediately, knowing it was you who texted him since he had it on dnd for everyone else.

my wife💐

‘tell that bitch move around or ima drag her outta here omm😐’

as soon as he read the text, ony lifted his head and began searching for you. soon he locked eyes with yours, excusing himself from whatever conversation was going on and making his way to the kitchen. “what’s wrong now?” is this nigga dumb? did he not just see and feel that bitch being weird touching on him? “nun bruh just tell that hoe to keep her distance. that hair look new and i’d hate to have that shit on the floor” as the two of you conversed you couldn’t help but peep ivy and her friends start to mug you and your girls. eventually making their way towards you. before you can even point it out your thoughts were cut off by sasha. “yea i’m finna flip dis hoe. got me all the way fucked up.”

ony watched your friends start to remove their earrings and adjust their clothes, and being the nonconfrontational man that he was he decided it was time for you to go. “go tell ivy we leavin’ and wait f’me in the car ma. i’ll get you a slice of ca-” “nah i’m good right here.” you cut him off, eager to see what this bitch was on. as they approached y’all you see that sasha and mikasa were quick to be at your side, standing face to face with each of brielle’s friends. “you got a problem wit me shawty?” brielle smirked, looking you up and down and taking pride in pissing you off. but your mouth was smart and even though it got you in trouble with your man, there was nothing you couldn’t handle when it came to other people.

“nah but you seem to have a problem that i got the nigga you want” you spit back with a smile. you could see that your comment got under her skin. she was rolling her eyes as she replied. “nah ion got a problem when i know i can have em right back anytime. like last saturday for instance.” this bitch is a liar and you knew it. laughing at loud as both her and your friends looked at you confused. last saturday ony was home the entire day, and you can only remember it so vividly because he had you face down in the mattress for cursing him out over being late to brunch. you also remembered it so vividly because he recorded most of it on your phone. “tuhh bitch please pick a different lie because you know damn well he was with me. now are we gon sit here and chit chat or you tryna take this outside cause ian really with allat talkin’. ”

before the bird could reply, ony stepped in the middle of yall and tried to play the mediator. “y/n. get in the car, now. and brielle, what we had been over for a long ass time now. give that shit up and move on.” you backed down, feeling that no bitch was worth getting into it with your man. you were lowkey tired of being the bigger person, but knew i’d be better this way than just fighting and possibly ruining your friends party. as you made your way around ony, you gave brielle the illest mug ever to let her know that even though you’re leaving, you still ain’t no bitch. it wasn’t even five seconds since you left the kitchen where you can hear the bitch starting up again. “i don’t know why you still dealin’ wit that bitch. don’t you miss me ponpon?” brielle said in a baby like voice.

“nah chill wit that bitch word bro. and you really needa stop running your fuckin’ mouth bout her too cause i may not be here next time to stop her” you smiled while ony shut that bitch down. you knew he was more on the calm side so hearing him raise his voice a little turned you on. “oh please nigga you know damn well her shit nowhere as good as mine. used to have your soul leaving your body and allat. you can act like you don’t miss me but ik that dick think otherwise.” that was it for you. it was in the blink of an eye when you were dragging that bitch outside by her hair. honestly you needed whatever glue she got bc her shit wasn’t moving an inch. as you pulled her down the steps of ivy’s porch, you felt ony trying to grab at your wrists.

“mama let her hair go right now.” he yelled. you whip your head to the side, face to face with your man as he stared at you with a warning in his eyes. your fingers instantly straightened before brielle dropped to the ground. the stare this man was giving you made your heart start pumping rapidly. through his eyes you could tell that he was saying “don’t test me”, and you had no intention of finding out what would happen if you did. it was almost instantly when ony grabbed the top of your arm, quickly walking you to his car. most of the people were already outside, migrating there as they watched you drag brielle from the kitchen to the porch. ony opened your door and you sat down, ready to leave this whole day behind already. before you could close the door you heard brielle yapping again.

“fuck you bitch you can have the nigga. ain’t nun but a piece of dick anywayssss.” you hopped out the car and sprinted towards brielle with a quickness. as she seen you approaching she tried to square up but her hands were trash. punches were flying from everywhere, connecting right to her face every time. you honestly didn’t really care too much about what she said about you, but when it came to your boyfriend there was a line to be crossed. and she stomped right over it. “keep. my. man. name. out. your. fuckin’. mouth. bitch.” she was now laid on the floor with her arms shielding her bleeding face while you continued to throw blows her way. sasha seen her friends inching up about to jump in and shut it down immediately. “if you move anotha inch ima start swinging too. we don’t do nun of that jumping shit so i wish you would try so i can fuck you up right here.”

her friends looked at each other before back up completely, not wanting any problemsm. before long you felt strong arms wrap around you, lifting you off the ground and away from brielle. you were thrown into the backseat of ony’s car before he turned the child lock on, not being able to trust you to not open the door and attack again. he made his way to the front seat and threw a handful of tissue towards you from the glove compartment. the two of you were driving home in complete silence as you wiped your hands clean. usually your man would be lecturing you right now, but there was a calmness to him that frightened you. “umm…are you mad at me?”

he ignored you, asking his own question instead. “why do you get so jealous?” he mumbled, glancing at you in the rear view mirror. you rolled your eyes, acting as if what he was saying was the most ridiculous thing in the world when in actuality, he was right. you knew that ony and brielle been done way before you even came in the picture, but the thought of him even being with her made you feel a way. ony knew you very well and he could tell how you were feeling regardless of what you did or said.

“mama how many times i gotta tell you i’m only yours huh? why can’t you just trust me?” his grip on the steering wheel tightened as he kept replaying the nights events over and over again in his head. “how you expect me to trust you when you okay wit letting bitches be in your face? bitches you used to fuck!” you yelled, holding back tears as you moved your gaze out the window. ony opened his mouth to speak, but decided against going back and forth with you any longer. “we’ll fix this at my crib. not finna argue wit you in the car”

when the two of you made it to his apartment, ony wasted no time, leading you to his room before sitting you down on his lap. “so why you don’t trust me?” he asked, his handing running all over your back as he awaited your reply. you looked at the ground tears threatening to spill from your eyes as you tried your hardest to keep your voice from wavering. “i do” ony sucked his teeth at your words, lightly grabbing your chin and facing you towards him so you could see the knowing look he was giving you. “don’t lie mama, you said it in the car. why don’t you trust me?” the tears you’ve been fighting finally broke free as you quickly covered your eyes and sobbed into his lap. “i-it’s not you pa. i-i was just a little jealous b’cause you were letting her….her-” your cries took most of your breath from you, making you have to stop in the middle of your sentence so you can take a breath. “sh sh sh i get it baby. how you want me t’fix it huh?”you shrugged your shoulders at his question, not having an idea on how he could make this horrible night any better. “a-any way you can”

a soft smile made its way to ony’s face as he lightly pushed you down on your back. he removed your bottoms before slowly getting on his knees. “this way okay?” he asked, chuckling at how you eagerly nodded your head as an answer. it wasn’t long before ony had you a blabbering mess, his fingers digging into you slowly as he took in each of you pretty face expressions. “say it again baby” your back was arched off the bed as you repeated the words ony planned to have to chanting all night. “y-you’re all mine shitt” your moans made his dick grow stiff in his pants as ony looked at the sight of your glistening wet pussy. he quickly pulled his fingers out, laying his tongue flat on your clit before eating you out sloppily.

the feeling of his skilled tongue made you scream as you pushed and pulled on his head. “again” he mumbled into your pussy, too addicted to fully take his mouth away as he looked up at your pretty face. “all mine daddy a-all mine” ony sucked softly on your clit, letting his tongue run all over it in his mouth to quickly grab an orgasm out of you. his tactic worked, making him smile as he felt your juices begin to rush out of you and wet his chin. “good girl mama”

ony stood up in front of you, taking in the sight of your post orgasmic glow as he rubbed himself through his sweatpants. the sight of his bulge made you whine in want as you slowly leaned up to free him from his pants. ony quickly grabbed your hand, giving you a soft expression before lightly pushing flat onto the bed. “s’not about me right now mama. let me do this for you ‘kay?” you nodded your head at his words, making ony give you a like tap on your thigh to make you jump. “lemme hear your voice” at the sound of the small “yes” you gave him, ony slowly freed his dick from the confines of his sweats before lining it up with your tight entrance. “say it again”

“you’re all m-….ohmygoddd” the feeling of his thick dick sinking into your walls made a pretty cry fall from your lips. your back arching off the bed as your hand quickly flew to his wrists. ony didn’t let up, his pace slow, but his thrusts deep as he dug into you with love. “yea m’all yours mama. who dick is it?” your eyes were already at the back of your skull. small whimpers falling from your lips as you tried your hardest not to let your mind drift off into the clouds. “s’m….s’mine daddy” your words were slurred as you felt his dick begin to kiss your cervix in a way that made you want to scream. “ooouuu fuckkk”

ony’s pace began to quicken. the force of his quicker thrusts making your body begin to jerk a little on the sheets. he slowly pulled up your shirt, freeing your perky breasts before leaning down to latch his mouth onto one of your nipples. the feeling of his wet tongue on the sensitive bud making you grow wetter as you caressed the back of his head. you knew there would be marks in the morning, but you didn’t care. letting your man prove to you how much he loves and cares about you through making sweet love to your body. ony released your nipple with a small pop before moving up to your neck.

the dark purple marks were already beginning to form in both of the areas as he slowly moved his lips to your ear. “say it again f’me mama. don’t want you t’forget” as ony waited for your reply, he leaned up from your body, staring down at you lovingly before pulling out of you completely. you matched his gaze, your brown eyes big and watery as you told him the words he longed to hear. “you’re mine” with that ony flipped you onto your stomach, quickly thrusting back into you before fucking you at a fast pace. his dick kissed all the right places in you as you cried out into the air. “oh…oh my goddd daddy right there!” ony smirked as you continued to moan for him. he just started and you were already ready to make a mess all over the sheets. the sloppy sounds of his dick stroking your pussy ringing through the air as proof.

“s’too soon, need you t’hold it f’me ma. can you do that?” you quickly nodded your head, earning you a hard snap of his hips that made you yelp in pleasurable pain. “what i tell you before? talk t’me baby” he was pounding you into the sheets now, your back arched to perfection as ony kept a hand on your back and another at the top of your ass. “i….i can hold it daddy” a smile spread into ony’s brown features as he listened to your whiny voice. your pussy fluttering as you felt his thumb rub over your tight hole. “you want me to?” he asked, chuckling at how quickly you whined out a “yes daddy….please”. ony moved his hand before letting his spit drip from his mouth to your ass.

lightly rubbing his spit outside the brown hole before he lightly fed it the tip of his thumb. you moaned at the sensation, throwing yourself back on him to get more if his dick along with poking your ass out more. “greedy thing” he groaned before fully sheathing his tumble inside of you. the sight made his dick twitch as ony began to fuck you harder and faster. occasionally stroking your puckering hole with his thumb to keep you on edge.

“you trust me now baby?” he breathed, the sight and sound of your pretty moans and even prettier body making it hard for him not to want to shoot his load deep inside of you. “y-yes daddy….with my life”

“you gon cut out the jealousy shit?” ony began to pound into you, using his free hand to push your arch down deeper as he quickly fucked the both of you closer to your orgasms. “mmm..mhm n-no more” the feeling of his long dick repeatedly hitting your g spot made your legs shake under you as you began to soak the sheets under you with drool. “say it one more time for me beautiful and we gon cum together” tears fell from your eyes at the rush of emotions flowing through your body right now. the feeling of love and trust being the most powerful as you felt the coil in your stomach begin to snap.

“you’re all mine”

𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐔𝐏 | eren jaegar

warnings . . . fem reader ( she / her prns ), established relationship, black reader!, eren has a dick piercing & he likes bein’ called god :3, he also spits in your mouth, lotsa praise, squirting, oral sex ( f -> m), reader’s a bit of a brat but ‘s okie !

word count . . . approx. 6.4k

maisie's note ! . . . dis is da song mentioned at d beginning ! i had it playing almost da entire time i spent writing this fic + ariana’s song is basically . . . da reason for dis entire thing !

RINI’s oceane plays gently from the white, pill shaped, jbl speaker resting on the black, quartz countertop inside of the bathroom. nibbling on the long, acrylic layered, tapered square nail of your thumb, you watch your boyfriend’s tatted, muscled back flex and strain as he brushes his teeth in front of the sink from your position in bed. you feel as though your words are literally stuck in your throat — pointy ends sinking into the structure of your esophagus as the rounded letters block your airway which have you opening your mouth then snapping it back closed to take in a deep inhale and blow it back out slowly, time over and time again. you’re nervous … and you’re not exactly sure why. you have no reason to be, you think. it’s just a simple question you want to ask the man currently stepping out from the bathroom to walk towards the foot of the bed and yet, you feel an urge to dart into traffic at the imaginary outcomes your brain’s conjuring up if he happened to say that two-lettered word you despise most — ‘no.’

“hey,” you try out, your voice soft and delicate from literal hours of disuse. “g’mornin’.”

you catch eren’s attention though. you make him lift his eyes so they meet yours, gorgeous teal to sleepy brown, as he drops the towel swathed around his waist to snatch up the pair of ethika briefs thrown on the ottoman beside black, straight legged jeans and a balenciaga hoodie. “did i wake you?” he asks, thick eyebrows gathering close as he slips them up the firm muscles of his thighs.

you shake your head, “no, i woke up while you were in the shower.”

here’s the thing about eren, — he is strict on routine. monday through thursdays he’s up at six am come the twinkling chimes of his phone alarm. twenty minute shower is immediately after, no if-ands-or-buts, then he brushes his teeth, gets dressed in a usual outfit of hoodie and jeans (occasionally he swaps out the hoodie for a short sleeved v neck or maybe the jeans for sweat-shorts), has breakfast, and he’s out of the door by seven fifteen. he gets to his job — a tattoo and piercing parlor entitled paradis at seven fifty which allows him a ten minute interval to open up shop and get his station ready for his first client of the day.

you’re not exactly sure how you’re going to somehow force your boyfriend to ram a dent into his periodic, run-of-the-mill schedule . . and on a tuesday at that, but, if anything, you’re determined to. you need to. “so . .” you watch him pull his hoodie over his head, obscuring sharp, black ink printed over his pecs, collarbones, and arms from view. “what are you doin’ tomorrow?”

eren’s combing his tousled, shoulder length locks up with his fingers to gather it all in a bun which he ties somewhat securely with the band he keeps on his wrist at all times near the back of his head. he gives you a look — one that makes the corner of his lips pull down in a lour. “tomorrow’s tuesday, i’m working, baby.”

god, this is going to be harder than you thought.

you kiss your teeth with a slick ‘mmcht’ sound, “well,” you scratch the back of your neck. “i was thinking that . . maybe you could take off tomorrow.”

he makes a small, gruff sound of slight interest. you can hear him walking over to the dresser where he keeps his jewelry. “hm — and why should i do that?”

“because i’m your girlfriend and you love me.”

his smile is pretty. there’s really no other word to truly describe it. it makes his usual, handsome-although-deadpanned face brighten and gleam as the straight, pearly whites reveal themselves between two, soft, bronze-toned lips. he’s grinning at you as he tosses a gold, rope chain around his neck and clips his favorite rolex over his wrist. “as much as that’s true,” he’s trailing over to your side of the bed, bringing along with him the scent of fresh, clean soap and expensive cologne. “you’ve been begging me for a new, diamond anklet for a month now and how do you think i manage to buy those for you, huh?”

he tilts your chin up high with a knuckle so that you can look up at his towering frame. you pout at his question. “but . . but baby, i hit two million subscribers on youtube and i had this whole, cute video idea of you doing my makeup ‘cause everyone wants to see you now and if you say no, i’m going to cry, and throw a fit and you’re gonna be a mean, horrible boyfriend and i know you don’t want to be that, do you?” you’re standing up on your knees now, tugging on the pocket of his hoodie with the cutest frown on your face.

god, if you weren’t the most spoiled fucking thing on planet earth.

in a way, eren knows he should blame himself for your self-centered, brattish behavior. he grants you any and everything you ask for because it’s simply hard not to. sometimes, a pout isn’t what breaks him but a smile. the dreamy, drop-dead gorgeous beam that spreads across your face when you see him holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand, when he swipes his card at the make up outlets you drag him to, and at five-star, tower-revolving restaurants has his heart inside of a vice-grip and you know this. “mm,” he groans through his nose, closes his eyes, and pinches his nose bridge. he’s contemplating.

“eren, please?” you’re whispering sweetly, trying your best time sway him over to ‘yes, fine.’ “please? just one video?”

he blinks his eyes back open slowly, “clients,” he says as if just realizing — as if broken out of the puppy-eyed trance you subjected him to. “i have clients, i can’t cancel on them.”

it’s rare that you have to whip out the big guns. big guns being a dramatic façade of bubbling tears and sniffles as you plop back down on your butt. and in response, he’s giving you this bored, catatonic expression that shows he’s used to it. “you’re not being fair, you know that?”

you fold your arms over your chest, “i’m the one not being fair?”

eren rolls his eyes and snatches up his vans to shove his feet into and lace up beside the door. “just for that, now you can wait. i’ll make up my mind later.”

“eren!”

he ignores your little wails while grabbing his phone and keys from off of the nightstand and walking out of the room with a simple, “i love you. come lock the door after i leave.”

you should know just as much as you adore teasing and putting up a bit of a fight when provoked to, eren does the same. you had expected to wallow and pout and sob all day in bed until your malignant, execrable of a boyfriend got home, per contra, your phone dings with a text message as you’re locking the front door. in the company of a jutted bottom lip, you’re using facial identification to unlock the device and open the new message from ‘baby<3’ that reads:

fine.

your love for make up, skin care and, basically, all things beauty began at the budding age of five years old. the palettes of chalky eyeshadow, pulverized blush, and lipgloss composed of more wax and glitter than anything, you received on christmas and birthdays filled your little heart up with so much joy that it was indescribable. thankfully, your parents saw just how much you enjoyed painting your face with the cosmetics and when you hit ten, you were already roping your dad into drugstores to buy you the real deal.

the excitement and happiness makeup brought you never dulled. you uploaded your first tutorial on youtube at eighteen, around the time you first met eren, and now at twenty two you’re hitting your two million milestone.

your subscribers’ infatuation with eren began about a year ago when he reached a tatted arm across your vanity while you were doing your makeup to pluck a fast food cup from it and take a swig of your strawberry lemonade. you decided to leave the clip in — surmising that the domesticity of him grumbling about you ‘drinking it all and barely leaving any for him’ and your responding giggles as you looked up at him was too cute to trim out. there had also been another occurrence of you answering his facetime call while color correcting that made him chuckle over the receiver at how silly you looked that trended over twitter for a few days and caught a lot of attention.

you have never been the type to hide your relationship neither. you continuously boast about how fine eren was, how he won an award for tattoo’ing last year, about the many dates he takes you on — you suppose that maybe you were a tease. and, to put simply, your subscribers couldn’t take it anymore. they were curious. they needed to know who this man was.

“i’m craving a fuckin’ bacon double-cheeseburger,” eren sniffs while lounging back in the white, swirling chair you loaned him.

your fujifilm x-s10 camera is recording, your ring lights are on, and so is your fairy lights that drape prettily over the white shelves of books, plants, and trinkets you use for a backdrop behind you. humming, you make sure your butterfly locs are hanging right before flicking one over your shoulder, “do i look okay?” you turn your stool to face eren who gives you a long look from the ass-length locs on your head to the white prada sandals on your feet.

when he drags his eyes back up, a lazy smile slides across his lips prior to him licking them, “yeah,” he utters softly, peering at you through his lashes. “you look good, baby.”

a grin of startlement lights up your face as your heart skips a beat at that look. you hold your hand up with your palm facing him and shake your head, looking towards the camera, “i am not playing with you today, eren.”

“i just answered your question?—“

“—no need for an intro. welcome back to my channel, if you’re new here my name is ( ♡ ) and this pretty man right here is my boyfriend eren,” you bring him in close by the face to kiss the skin of his cheek as he hums as a greeting. “and today he’s going to be doing my make up. you think you’re up for it, mr. jaeger?”

he’s already thumbing with tubes of lipgloss and opening palettes when he shoots back coolly, “i don’t know. we’ll have to see, mrs. jaeger.”

you fluster with bashfulness, as much as you try to fight it, and kicks his shin underneath the table. “alright, so start,” you straighten your spine. “you can’t ask me what anything is, okay? you have to do it all on your own.”

eren inhales some air through his teeth as he combs his hair back with his fingers. “mm, okay,” he mumbles underneath his breath. he wracks his brain for the small glances he’d take of you doing your make up while he walked in and out of the room all these days before. it seems to him you’re always trying out a new product aside from . . “you always start with this shit.” he grabs hold of a pink and white ombré squeeze tube bottle with ‘too faced hangoverx’ printed across it. it’s a staple for you. after opening it, instead of simply applying some of the product upon the tips of his fingers and rubbing it in, the way that you do it, eren angles the opening of the bottle upon peaks of your face which he squeezes the primer onto before doing so.

“oh, god,” you’re giggling at the foreign touch of his fingers tapping over your face which makes him have to roll his chair in closer.

he fixes you with a bored stare, “stop movin’. what’s so funny?”

not wanting to disturb his flow, you shake your head, “nothing. keep going.”

he’s popping the cap back on the container while pulling the iridescent pink mason jar you keep your go-to make up brushes in towards the edge of the vanity before picking the first one he sees — the flat brush you normally use for concealer. “don’t be laughing at me. i’ll pull your little ass over my lap and s—“

“—i’m going to have to edit that out now, eren!” you whine. you absolutely hate editing and you try your best to keep it at a minimal. however, knowing eren and his apathetic impudence, you know this video is going to be cut-and-paste central.

he lifts your chin by a knuckle so he can start blending the primer a little bit more into your skin. “don’t edit it,” he utters in reply as if that was an unexacting solution. you blink up into the moss-green of his eyes, unable to keep from noticing just how long and delicate his eyelashes are that frame them. when he blinks, they touch the apples of his cheeks and spring back up near his brow bone. you strangely want to comb mascara through them. “there.” he plops the brush back inside the jar and nibbles upon the flesh of his bottom lip in consideration.

“what now?”

he gives you a sideways glance, “. . uh, f-foundation? that shit.” he snatches the bottle of your fenty beauty foundation and shakes it a bit before angling the applicator over your face and pumping it all over. “then you use this brush, right?” he grabs a tapered, buffing brush with dense bristles which makes you lift your eyebrows in slight surprise. you didn’t know he paid that much attention. so far, all of the products he’s been using have been correct, aside from him wielding your concealer brush to pat in your primer.

while he’s brushing the full-coverage product over the canvas of your face, you can’t help but fist the fabric of his sweats in your fist. no reason to, honestly, just wanted to touch him. “maybe we can tell them how we met while we do this, baby?”

he’s concentrating, eyebrows linked close and tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek. “yeah, sure,” he mumbles. “tell them how you acted like a smart, know-it-all just ‘cause you wanted my attention, huh?”

you swat his chest with a huff, “i did not,” you pout. “we met through our mutual friend, sasha, at a restaurant to celebrate her birthday. i was eighteen, eren was nineteen and — wait, no, my first impression of you was—“

“—he’s sexy as fuck and i’m going to try my absolute best to get on his nerves, because that’s exactly what your smart ass did—“

“—oh, fuck you.”

“yeah?” he smiles and you feel his fingers drop from your chin to wrap around the column of your throat. he tugs you in roughly to smack his lips into yours for two, three, four? pecks before pulling away and going back to blending your foundation up into your ears. the action is so swift and quick that you’re sure you almost catch whiplash. “watch your tone.”

“anyways,” you roll your eyes, fighting to keep your smile in. something in you likes switching the button of your ‘brat mode’ on and off because you like how easy it is for eren to snap you back in place with a simple look, or phrase of, ‘keep playing with me and watch what i’ll do.’ of course, you’ve never told him this and you doubt you ever will, but something inside of you knows eren has picked up on it and that’s why he doesn’t really spare you a glance when you catch a sudden attitude out of no where. you like his attention, no, love it actually and when you got it, you were happiest. however, eren has been trying to teach you lately that not everything will go your way just because you want it to. you have to earn what you want.

and most of the time that includes his dick and attention, whether you like it or not.

“i thought eren was this stuck up, snobby, rich boy when i met him because he came to the restaurant dressed in a pair of jeans and a hoodie,” you close your eyes when he grabs the tube of concealer to draw a line over the lids then little triangles beneath your eyes followed by a line dragging upwards on the outer part towards your temple.

“like that, right?”

you shrug at his question and he clicks his jaw in frustration. “anyways, upon sitting down, we’re all talking and stuff and i catch him looking at the menu when our waitress comes by to take our order, then he asks her if he can have the crudité as his whore-derv.”

eren shakes his head and caps the concealer back up after drawing a dick on your nose and putting some on your chin and forehead. “i didn’t say it like that.”

you giggle and punch his shoulder, “yes, you did! and i corrected you and told you it’s pronounced hors d'oeuvre and you gave me this . . look.” it’s always hard to explain. every time you think about that day, you think about the certain look he gave you. a bright glint in his eye that made it seem like he wanted to kiss, kill, and marry you at the same while. “and then he was pussy-whipped from there on out. literally hounded me for my number while i walked to my car when we were all leaving.”

“you gave it to me the first time i asked and i walked you to your car, don’t play with me,” he pulls you in close by the throat again while smiling and you hum playfully while looking up at him. “maybe so, maybe not. i don’t remember it happening like that.”

he clicks his tongue and lazily lines contour over your forehead and jawline. “do that stupid fish face.” you suck in your cheeks to make your lips pucker cutely as he outlines the contour to bring out your cheekbones. “there you go,” he whispers underneath his breath. “good fuckin’ girl.”

he lets you go when he’s done and caps it. “now i get to use that sponge, i think. where is it?” he shuffles around the vanity and drawers for a moment before he sees it buried in the jar with your brushes. he shoves his huge hand inside of it, almost breaking the glass, prior to retrieving the sponge shaped like a mushroom in honor of colour pop’s collaboration with mario kart as a promotion package you received last year. with the sponge, eren starts to pat the cream products all in and you take the time to grow quiet again and close your eyes, melting into the comfort of having him so near.

his face was only inches away from yours so you can smell the spearmint of the gum he was chewing on his breath that occasionally brushes over your face. you can tell he also washed his hair too … and with your shampoo which doesn’t comes as a surprise since he claims the brand you buy makes his hair feel softer. you blink your eyes back open daintily to find him already staring at you too and you can’t help but smile and go a bit shy, “u-uhm . . what was your first impression when you first saw me?”

he bounces the sponge over your chin then smirks, “i don’t know, man,” he mumbles. “thought you were pretty as fuck, if you really want me to be honest. had on this . . tight ass, light blue dress with your hair and make up all done …“ his mind takes him back to the day. takes him back to sitting there at the table in the corner of a dimly, lit restaurant, staring at you without an ounce of shame in his body. you’d sometimes glimpse over and catch him, however, he never looked away. “cute ass.”

you giggle and throw your arms over his shoulders, blown away dumbfounded that he actually remembered what you wore. “then the second time we met,” he blends in the concealer under your eyes which leaves the products all melded and fused smoothly, then drops the brush on the vanity. “uh, i took you on a date . . we went to the fair.”

you gasp at the memory, “you won me this gigantic, pink, panda bear at the stall games! and . . and we ate like four funnel cakes together and you almost threw up on the ferris wheel. awe, baby,” you peck his lips and brush more of his hair back to get a better look at his handsome face. “one of my favorite dates we’ve been on.”

“i’m glad,” suddenly, as if a spring had been faulted in his seat, eren brings you in by your chair to align his lips upon yours and kisses you. his tatted hand holds your face firmly in place as your lips began to move slowly with light, clicking sounds and small smacks. you breathe him in completely, pulling him closer and closer until you felt yourself climbing his lap which doesn’t take neither of you by surprise. you end up with your knees caged around his hips and your hands tangled in the tufts of sorrel-brown waves as his tongue skims the seam of your lips before prying them open. neither of you can really help yourself at this point.

his large hands are sliding up the back of your thighs, bare due to you wearing a pair of tiny, denim shorts today. then they find your ass cheeks which he squeezes, right before pulling the palm of his right hand back an inch and slamming it back down to make you give a cute sound between a squeak and moan. eren’s been trying to control his urges this entire time if he wants to be entirely candid with himself. it’s hard having your face right in front of his and not doing anything about it. there’s been more than a few instances where it hadn’t took much — just him fucking staring at you while you talked has got him bricked up within seconds. this right here . . he considers it torture.

“w-wait, baby, no,” you’re whining and pulling and pouting — everything eren does not want, to free yourself from his embrace and he groans in irritation, tilting his head back against the chair he’s seated in. “we have to finish.” you take your seat again and adjust your locs, feeling as though two million people just saw you blatantly make out with your boyfriend. “i have to edit that out, too.”

eren tilts his head back forward and blows out a breath. his hand grabs your favorite setting powder. “we set this shit now, right?”

from there on out, it’s almost like he’s whizzing through the process. he ends up actually making your eyeliner sharp and crisp just because of how fast he flicked his fingers and drew it on. “wait, c’mere,” he pulls your face in really close until your noses are almost touching. “i like when you do that inner corner shit.” he tries his best to draw the tiny triangle and . . it looks somewhat good. it’s not bad, but it’s not as small and precise as you do it. eren doesn’t care that much. he’s dusting blush over your cheeks and nose bridge with a brush which makes you sneeze and he chuckles. “you can do your eyebrows and eyelashes and shit,” he utters while grabbing a tube of white and pink eyeliner. “i want to draw.”

“on my face, eren?”

he shushes you, “i’ll make it look nice, daddy promises.” he ends up dotting tiny stars over your cheeks and nose bridge with the two colors . . almost like freckles. “then . . i like that dark outline and clear lipgloss shit on your lips.” he drops the eyeliner to pick up a random, dark pencil which is an eyebrow product and lines your lips with smooth, exact lines that follow the shape of them. he makes you rub them together when he’s done to blend the harsh contours then lets you apply the lipgloss yourself. from there on, he grabs a random setting spray and spritzes your face with it all over to complete it.

he’s smiling at the finished product, teasingly keeping your hello kitty shaped, handheld mirror hidden behind his back before showing you. “ready?” he asks.

you tap your feet, anxiously. “yes! lemme see already.”

“you sure?”

“eren!”

he holds up the mirror and your eyebrows instantly raise in a state of startlement. your reflection staring back at you through the mirror looks actually . . good. you find that he, if truth be told, blended in your foundation and contour quite nicely, and although the blush was a bit misplaced, you adore the star-freckles he added. “i’m . . i’m really surprised, eren. woah,” you tilt your face this way and that, admiring the liner and choice of lip.

eren tchs, staring at you as if just realizing something, “i forgot that shiny shit.”

you hum quizzically.

“the stuff you put on your cheeks.”

“. . oh, highlighter.” you nod. “no, no. i feel like this is good on its own, this is amazing actually. you did way better than i thought. the only product you misused was the eyebrow pencil on my lips, i’m proud of you.”

eren sets the mirror down and hums, tilting his head when he leans in to softly peck your lips. it’s a sweet sign of affection since he doesn’t make any other move than that and you smile cutely, “. . i think i’ll leave this part in.”

“good.”

you stand and decide to take a seat on his lap to film the outro. “and this is the finished look. i think my baby did well, ten out of ten for me.” you squeeze his face between your hands. “now when i hit three million subscribers the two of us will be back so that i can do eren’s make up!—“

he lifts his eyebrows. “—really?”

“please remember to like and subscribe and all that cool stuff. i’ll see you guys on friday with a new video. muah!” you blow a big kiss to the camera before turning to eren. “you gotta blow one, too.”

he groans and bury his face into your neck. you roll your eyes and give a final wave for him before grabbing the tiny remote off of your vanity to press a button and end the recording.

if eren’s honest, he isn’t quite sure what ensues after — it all kind of happens in a whirl. all he really knows is that one minute you’re sitting on his lap and the next, you’re squirming out of his arms, knees hitting the floor and you’re tugging his sweats down to wrap your small hand around his half-hard cock. he bucks up into your fist at the first touch, “woah,” pleasantly surprised. “what …”

you press a kiss right upon the silver barbell that pricks through a thin patch of skin right underneath the fat, mushroom head of his cock. “i just . . wanted it. ‘s this okay?” you’re looking up at him with big, pretty eyes that makes his heart thud just a little bit harder against the cage of his ribs. is this okay? what kind of question was that?

“yeah, baby,” he rasps. “it’s okay.”

you wiggle your hips and hold him upright with your thumb and middle finger as your tongue drags a thick stripe up the underside. he tastes a bit like sweat and soap — you’re borderline drooling when your tongue dips a bit lower to lave over the smooth skin of his heavy balls. eren doesn’t know where the hell women like you come from.

one moment so smart mouthed and slick, giving him rolled eyes, middle fingers, and pouts then the next, all docile and compliant, fluttered eyelashes, glassy eyed, and sweet.

he watches you gather a sloppy mass of spit to drip on his cock and smoothly follow its path with your tongue to ease him into the back of your throat. “awe, fuck,” he tilts his head off onto the seat as his eyes swing back within his skull at the tight warmth your little mouth brings. he adores you, very much so. he doesn’t think anyone else can keep him on his toes the way you do. “god, i fuckin’ love you,” he chuckles softly.

you give a small snicker at his sudden confession and pushes his hoodie up with your other hand, wanting to see the way his abs tauten and stretch each time his piercing hits your gag reflex. you start to attend to a rhythmic, even pattern — keeping your cheeks sucked in to provide a snug grip as you let your drool froth and foam thick bubbles at his base.

eren’s mouth is slightly agape as he watches you through hooded lids, eyes significantly darker than they were five minutes ago. what was once a brilliant teal, now a murky sage.

you lift your eyes up to meet his, establishing steady and solid eye contact and makes sure he keeps looking when you pop off with a pretty gasp, lips swollen and tongue bridged to his tip by a bubbly line of thick saliva. eren shakes his head, “nah, nah,” he’s mumbling lowly, feeling his brain wandering dimly into a darker, more sinister sector where he’s convinced the only two people left on this planet is you and him.

you like to call the sudden stance change a bit scary. you can see his brain practically forming itself around a more assertive, domineering slant by the way his hand presses into the back of your head and forces you back down until your nose is touching the bare skin above his shaft. “there you fuckin’ go,” he grunts lowly, ignoring your coughs and splutters as you jab the edges of your acrylics into the strong meat of his thighs. he forces you off again, just to watch you gasp for air and then shoves you back down a second later. “still not all the way there, doll. want you to drop for me.”

it doesn’t occur to you what drop exactly means until it happens — until you feel your mind go a bit cloudy and dull as your eyes tear and nose start to leak at the rough treatment your throat’s receiving. you drop when your nails stop digging into his skin and you stop holding back which leaves you limp and able to relax your throat to take his cock inside of it fully. then eren pulls you off.

there’s a stifled ringing in your ears as you blink up at him, watching him lean in close while smiling and grabbing you roughly by the face to make your lips pucker. “there you fuckin’ go. this is my good girl,” he gives two firm pats to your face, making you smile and hum, wonderfully dumb and gormless. he pulls you back up onto his lap by your arms, practically snatching off your shorts and popping open the buttons of your body-suit that clipped securely at your crotch. “mmm,” he’s looking up at you while tapping his wet, long cock upon the fat of your dripping pussy.

you mewl and circle your hips slow, trying your best to just sink down on it but eren’s holding you with one tatted hand by the hip, keeping you from doing so. you’re weak, already sniffling and crying, whimpering out tiny ‘eren, please’s’ as he smiles and ignores you. “fuckin’ filthy, aren’t you?” he dips two of his fingers past your lips to touch your throat when he pushes you down. he feels the way you choke and the way your little throat spasms as your tiny pussy gets split open by the fat of his cock the more he raises his hips to meet you halfway. “fuuuuuck.”

eren pulls his fingers out to grab you by the soft flesh of your ass and starts to rock up and down slowly, wanting you both to savor it for a minute.

you’re moaning, already a pile of weak goo as you hold onto the hem of his hoodie, staring into his eyes. “feels good?” he asks you quietly. you nod, too dumb to realize that you should probably vocalize it though you can’t. you couldn’t, even if you tried and thankfully, eren understands. “yeah?”

you nod again, this time giving a sweet, “mhm.”

he starts to rock you just a little bit faster and your mouth drops open. eren groans and pushes you faster . . and faster until ultimately you both realize that you’re starting to bounce on your own. the thick meat of your ass is clapping down on his thighs with each rebound and you can hear the slick of your juices mixing in with his as the chair squeaks underneath both of your weight. “just like that,” eren drags his nails down the arch of your back to smack your ass and make you whine. “shit!”

the thread of self-control is shedding into nothing between you both when you trade the bounces to take a firm seat on his thighs and push yourself back and forth, brushing that fucking piercing against that tender tissue of sensitive nerves nestled inside of you that makes drool start to trickle down your chin. eren’s moans are loud as he meets you thrust for thrust. he watches the way your tits move inside your shirt, nipples hard and straining against the cotton.

your hands slip from his shoulders to tangle inside of his hair. “g-gonna make me cum,” you sniff, voice quiet and small. “e-eren, you’re . . y-y’gonna make me cum.”

“gonna make me cum, too, baby.”

there isn’t a word to describe how it feels.

you both go quiet for a moment, working desperately towards your highs with him lifting his hips and you bouncing and it hits like a truck.

you’re loud and eren’s gasping, pulling you in close with both his arms wrapped around your back as if he were hugging you. his cum is seeping past your cervix it feels like . . shooting and gathering into the small crevice of your womb as yours seeps out of you like a waterfall — running and slipping down his balls and to the chair. you’re pulling at his hair, involuntarily tugging honestly, as your body twitches and trembles on the come down. “h-holy shit,” you’re crying you realize, little sobs pushing from your throat. “oh my god.”

you’re both breathing hard and eren groans upon realizing that he isn’t finished. there’s still a buzzing warmth coursing through his veins that makes him run his hands up your sides to your neck to grab your face and pull it from his neck to kiss you. he mumbles something on your lips.

“h-huh?”

he looks up at you, “don’t stop,” he repeats lowly and you let out a yelp of surprise when he grabs you by the hips to start to move you again. “don’t fuckin’ stop.”

“eren.”

you’re positive that you can’t take anymore. your cunt’s already bruised and sensitive, cervix tender and weak . . you can’t take it. you soon realize that you’re babbling this and dragging your nails across his wrists and he’s shaking his head, pupils blown as he stares into your eyes. “you can,” he tells you.

suddenly you feel the world tipping on its axis for a second prior to your back touching the white, faux rabbit-fur rug that lays underneath your vanity as he looms up above you on his spread knees with your calves thrown over his strong shoulders. “you can take it for me.” he pins your hips down when he starts to fuck you. it seems like it’s even faster this time. he’s fucking you like he’s sure in the fact you won’t break. no matter how hard his thrusts are, no matter how far he bends your legs back, no matter how brutal … you won’t break. “ ‘cause you’re my good girl, huh?”

his hair provides a cloak and shields your faces from the rest of the world when he leans down and kisses you. you nod at his question, moaning and hiccuping inside the heat of his mouth. “so fuckin’ good.” it’s so messy . . there’s loud squelches as he fucks the mix of cum in and out of you and it drips over the clefts of your ass and past the silver of skin that separates your pussy from your taint. but it feels unworldly. your eyes cross with each plunge of his cock into the barrier of your cervix. “ohhh god,” you cry through a whimper. “god, eren — god!”

he bites his bottom lip, watching you lose all sense of the world underneath him. “mhm,” he mumbles, swinging his hips harder into yours. “mm, ‘m your god, baby? is that right?”

your answer is immediate, “y-yessss.”

he grabs your face again, squeezing your cheeks until your tongue is forced out of your mouth by the pressure. and when the cushion of pink is placed on display, he gathers a wad of spit on his own to shoot it down into yours. “swallow it.”

you do so with a shiver of bliss and he groans, trembling along with you. “f-fuck, gonna make me cum again, doll.”

you’re begging him to give it to you with your feet dangling in the air above his head. his pounds are focused and hell-bent on doing so. you feel yourself nearing that edge of ecstasy once again — this time with a sharp twinge that makes you clamp your shaking legs at the knees as your face twists up in what looks like pain. eren goes to pull out, growing concerned but then it happens. your cum is splashing and raining out of you in a spew, drenching his hips and the pockets of his hoodie as you gasp and wheeze.

the sight is just enough for his eyes to roll back as his own cum sows your insides — painting creamy white over pretty, bubblegum pink.

you both don’t dare to speak nor move.

you want to bask in the aftermath of this deeply-out-of-fucking-body experience for as long as you possibly can.

but, when it ultimately passes around three minutes later, eren slumps forward with languor and groans, body feeling heavy. you run your fingers through his hair and hold him close, of course.

“i love you,” he mumbles into the skin of your neck, a soft kiss following the words which makes you smile. “mm,” you hum in content. “i love you so much more.”

❤︎ — all rights reserved ! © tnyiest !

warnings : fem reader (fem anatomy but no pronouns), established relationship, smut (mdni), semi-clothed sex, some petting, brief handjob, brief fingering, brief teasing, minimal prep, something something just something about kita shinsuke coming home to you after working outside all day

word count : 1.5k

“I can feel ya’ starin’ from over there,” Shinsuke says warmly.

A hint of laughter resides in his words, thick and comforting, and you can’t help how you smile in turn. 

When he relaxes, his accent makes itself more present. The syrupy syllables fall from his lips a bit sweeter, a bit slower, than they had previously, relenting to the arduous tires of the day. It’s a moment you find yourself looking forward to–when Shinsuke returns home after working in the wet heat all day, finally escaping the sun on his shoulders with freckles as its evidence, accent more comfortable on his tongue. 

You only hum in return, not bothering with hiding your gaze any longer. “Can you blame me?” you ask, tone calm with affection. 

“Hm. Ya’ could come here, instead. Let me feel you.” Shinsuke stretches as if to further entice you, thick thighs spreading apart on the couch. You watch as he raises his arms above his head–skin tanner now that spring is making its way across the horizon–and swallow your desire as you spy a sliver of skin peek from under the hem of his shirt. 

It’s all you can do but oblige. Pushing off the counter, you make your way toward your lover, still keeping an appreciative eye on him. The sun is good for Shinsuke, you think, making him appear as if he’s been bathed in the golden light, hair messy but still boyishly charming, dry sweat lingering near his temple. 

But it’s his eyes that draw you in–eyes that gleam with mischievousness but also fondness, softening around the edges as you make your way to stand between his spread legs. Placing your hands on his shoulders, you squeeze around the muscle there, sighing happily at the soft give of his skin, gliding them down to trace along his biceps. Even now, when the sun has long gone down and the temperature has dropped, Shinsuke retains the warmth from the day on his skin, and it seeps from him and into your awaiting palms. 

“What’s going on in that head of yers?” Shinsuke muses, tapping a finger against your temple, moving his hand until he cups your cheek.

Offering him a soft grin, you move to kiss lay a kiss on his open palm. “Just you,” you tell him, and it’s all Shinsuke needs to hear. 

Easily, as he’s done it a million times, Shinsuke’s hands find their way to your thighs, pressing his fingertips just underneath the hem of your shirt. He kneads the skin there, massaging in lazy, large circles, pressing calloused palms against your body until you’re pliant and malleable to his touch. 

Shinsuke likes you like this: safe, happy, waiting for him when he comes home, wearing his shirt and almost nothing else, smiling at him when he comes back to you. 

With a lopsided grin, Shinsuke guides you to sit on his lap, spreading his thighs apart to best accommodate your weight on him. A large hand makes its way to your back, kneading and squeezing your ass only twice before pulling you onto him, smile broadening at the content sound you make. 

When you settle on top of him, the first thing you feel is his stiff cock, pressing against your thigh, straining against his jeans. 

“Want something?” you tease, leaning forward to press your chest against Shinsuke’s. Making your voice soft, you tug at one of his hands, leading him to touch between your thighs. You sigh when he immediately presses to fingers to your clothed clit, rubbing it in wide circles, applying just the right amount of pleasure to make you crave more. 

“Can ya’ blame me?” Shinsuke recites your words, eyes soft as they trail down your body, exuding nothing but love and a hint of mischief that made you fall in love with him. 

The desire burns in your stomach, traveling up your thighs and settling in your chest. Suddenly, you need to feel more of him, to kiss him, to taste the sun on his skin and the day’s work on his tongue. 

Shinsuke meets you in a kiss halfway; with his hand still shoved between your bodies, rubbing and playing with your clit, he kisses you sweetly. It’s in stark contrast to how he touches you–still warm and loving, but he kisses you with malaise, lazily enjoying the feel of your soft lips molding against his own. 

With a gentle sound, Shinsuke parts your lips with his tongue, pressing it into your mouth, groaning when he sinks one, two fingers inside you. They go in easily, as if you were waiting for him to come home, and the thought has heat and desire rapidly swirling and spinning in his chest, making him feel dizzy and exhilarated. 

Curling them forward, Shinsuke parts only to press his forehead to yours, not stopping the proud smile that tugs at his lips. “That’s it, takin’ my fingers so well. Ya’ missed me today?”

“Of course,” you mumble against his lips. You nearly gasp at how it feels to have his lips pressed against yours, not enough to kiss but enough to feel, enjoying the sensation of Shinsuke simply moving against you. His breath is hot as he begins to breathe a bit heavier, and the feeling only grows when you reach between your bodies to circle your wrist around his clothed cock. “Want you, Shin.”

Your words are all he needs. Gently, he pulls his fingers out, helping you to tug his belt through the loops. The room is filled with mixed chuckles of exasperation when you get stuck, when your hands fumble, when you struggle to pull down the denim from Shinsuke’s thighs. The jeans are not meant to be tight, but the years of fat and muscle from working in the field make it so the fabric is not as giving around his skin. 

“Eager thing,” Shinsuke’s kissing down your neck, unable to keep his hands or mouth off you as you work his cock free. You brush your hand over the small trail of coarse hair leading down his navel, and Shinsuke almost shivers. “Makes me not wanna leave this couch.”

Fisting his thick cock in your hand, you pump a few times, not daring to miss the flash of need that arises on your lover’s face as you do so. “Then don’t. Fuck me right here.”

Shinsuke feels a small pang in his chest. “Ya’ deserve to be fucked in our bed,” he states, hands still smoothing up your sides, pulling up the shirt to nuzzle his face between your breasts. 

You’re hovering over his cock, spilling his pre-cum over your fingers as you slowly pump him. Shinsuke nearly curses when he feels the heat of your cunt just over the head of his cock, aching and pulsing to be filled with him, your underwear having been pulled to the side.

Then, you grin, and he finds that he can’t pull himself away from the eager, mischievous look on your face. It draws him in, and Shinsuke swears he falls impossibly more in love with you. 

“Then fuck me in the bed later, please?” 

The urge to treat you right–to pick you up and carry you to your shared bed, to love on you in the five million ways you deserve–is persistent, but with your weight on top of him, your hand tugging at his cock, Shinsuke feels the last bit of his resolve crumble under your touch. 

“Anyone ever tell ya’ how much of a minx you are?” Shinsuke murmurs against your skin, licking and lapping at your breast. He tongues at your nipple, sucking it into his mouth and moaning as you begin to lower yourself onto him. 

“Mm,” you moan, settling yourself over his cock, slowly sinking down onto him. The pressure of his curved head pressing against your sweet spot, filling you and rubbing against your cunt, is almost enough to have you collapsing against his sturdy, broad body, but you persist, rocking over him once he’s fully seated inside you. “You tell me that, yeah. But ‘m yours.”

Regaining himself, Shinsuke’s hands move to your hips, guiding you to rock over his cock, spreading his thighs wider to dig himself even further up inside you. Your words caused something warm to spread in his chest, swelling in his heart and filling any empty space with love and thoughts of you. 

“Yeah, mine. ‘Nd I’m yers,” Shinsuke drops his head to your chest, tight, strong arms wrapping around your back. He holds you close to him, rutting his hips up to meet your gentle, slow thrusts, pressing your body against his chest. 

He fucks you like this, then he takes you to the bedroom, just like he’d promised, and when you still feel the sun on his skin even hours later, you think that it must not actually be the sun. 

It’s just him. 

haikyuu mlist.

movie nights

pairing: osamu miya x f!reader || 1.8k words

warnings: reader is afab, grinding, light hair pulling, spit mention, fingering, begging || names/petnames/etc. used: sweetheart, needy, darlin', 'my girl' — mdni + ageless dni

synopsis: a day of teasing ends with both of you getting what you want (spoiler: the movie is forgotten about, both by the reader + by me while writing this apparently )

Light from the television filled the dark room, the sound system up probably far more than it should be. And yet, even with the flickering of the television and noise filling the space, it couldn’t keep your attention.

You’d be lying if you said you had any idea of what the plot was in the movie currently playing, but it’s no fault of your own. Osamu Miya is insufferable, present tense.  His hands have been your constant companions throughout his day off, intentionally teasing you.

He wasn’t at all oblivious and loved that his touch was enough to rile you up, especially when he wouldn’t take any of it further. Soft kisses on your pulse, fingertips skimming just underneath your top, he’d pull away quickly.

Osamu maintained a grin, very aware of your body’s reactions and frustrations, to your misfortune. He made a game out of it, wanting to see how much more your desire could grow and seeing the relief when he’d finally give you what you wanted.

Attention slipping more and more, you lamented the addition of his hand on your thigh, sliding itself back and forth. Warmth radiated from his touch, making your exposed skin feel like it was on fire. Osamu’s nails dragged along with the most recent swipe, and you couldn’t stop the noise of surprise rising in your throat, thighs moving to close at the feeling.

“What d’ya think of the movie, hm?” he asks, head dipping closer to yours as his grip tightens at your movement, fingertips digging into the spot they sit on. You scramble to string words together, attempting to formulate a lie despite knowing he noticed your inattentiveness ages ago.

“I like it.” Short, simple, and could be true, if it weren’t for Osamu being like this.

He raised one of his brows at you as you turned towards him, attempting a nonchalant expression. Your boyfriend seemed as if he was suppressing a laugh at your answer, lips pressing together before speaking again.

“Liar.” That one word caused you to pause, and avert his gaze, but he didn’t stay silent for long before continuing. “Ya haven’t been focused this entire time. Got somethin’ on yer mind, sweetheart?”

His tone was teasing, and his grin was bright as he watched you fumble for words. Osamu wanted to see how far you’d go to lie about how he affected you, to deny the fact that you’ve been squirming underneath his touch and desperate for more than he’s given you. 

“I’m not a liar. ‘Movies good, and there's nothing on my mind.” Your words came out rushed and sharp, and you knew he would see through anything you said, but you couldn’t give in yet. As if on cue, he scoffed at your response, shaking his head. 

“Nothing on your mind, huh?” His tone took a gleeful turn, and that grin came right back. “What about the movie?”

“Maybe if you stopped talking, I could continue focusing on it,” you huffed back at him, brushing his hand from its place. 

“A’right, guess if you won’t admit it, you don’t get what ya want.”

“What?”

“C’mon. Unless you don’t want what you’ve been waitin’ for, admit that you weren’t payin’ attention.” He meets your stare, an expectant look on his face.

You can feel your barely there resolve cracking, the idea of finally getting what he’s been dangling in front of you chipping away at your facade. You sigh in defeat, turning your body to face him.

“Don’t say anything smart,” you start, fiddling with the hem of your shirt, before he reaches over, and the following words disappear from your lips.

“Legs,” he says, patting your thigh, ”Open ‘em.” Osamu’s touch is hot on you once again, his palm searing against your skin.

Embarrassment filled you, heat prickling at the back of your neck. It wasn't as though you hadn't been in this position before, but everytime he was so blunt with what he wanted, you couldn’t help but get slightly flustered. 

Slowly parting your legs, your shirt rode up with the movement. His eyes zero’ed in on the center of your thighs, the fabric of your panties clinging to the shape of you. Groaning at the sight, Osamu couldn’t help but slide into the empty space and press his lips to yours.

Your inner thighs tingle at the feeling of denim against your skin, and you tried to stifle the soft noises that followed the feeling of him pressed against your clothed slit to no avail.

Osamu let out a chuckle at that, pulling back with eyebrows raised in amusement, but he chose to not comment, deciding to press a soft kiss at the base of your jaw and make his way down. Teeth grazing your throat, he relished the soft pants that escaped your lips. Tongue soothing each bite, he slipped his hands underneath your shirt with the intention of taking it off. 

“Wanna see you,” Osamu said, voice sounding a bit hoarse as he started to tug the fabric of it upwards. Leaning up a bit, you readjusted yourself to help him slip it off. Tossing the clothing to the side, he wasted no time in getting his mouth back on you. The skin of your chest now fully exposed to the cool air of your home, the contrast ripped a whine straight from your mouth. You pushed against him, hips rising in an attempt to stimulate yourself as he radiated warmth.

“Please, Samu,” Your voice cracked, coming out airy with desperation. Warm hands slid back down your body, just barely ghosting over your chest before they found their way to your hips.

Fingers digging into the plush of them, he moved from the spot he had been focusing on, teeth dragging and nipping as he made his way lower. Your hands found themselves tangled in his hair as his lips found one of your nipples, another cry leaving your mouth at the feeling.

There’s no keeping the barrage of sounds budding in your throat at bay anymore, but he’s right there with you as you tug his hair. A groan leaves his mouth as you tug a bit harshly, his eyes fluttering shut at the feeling, and he pulls back.

The light catches on his lips, red and shiny with the same spit decorating your chest and it makes you feel hot inside. Osamu looks every bit of a mess as you feel at the moment. Hair mused beyond belief, you can see the flush decorating his skin all too well. 

His eyes darted over your face, taking you in as you did to him and he couldn’t help but pull you in for another kiss. Hips pressing down against yours in earnest, the only thoughts running through your brain at that moment are about how good it feels to feel him like this, hard in his jeans and aching for you, along with how much you wish the jeans were gone.

That, instead of grinding against you, bringing you closer to release as his tongue brushes yours, you wish he was sliding into you.

Your grip slides from its place in his hair, hands finding their way down his front. Pushing his chest a bit to get that space, you reach down to cup him through his jeans. Quickly,  you’re rewarded with one of those sounds again. He can’t help but work his hips against your touch, forehead pressed against yours as he pants, mouth falling open into a pretty shape. 

“Just like that,” His words are breathy as he relishes in the feeling, before mirroring your actions. Osamu reaches down as well to rub you over your underwear, a smug smile making its way to his lips once again at the feeling of how soaked you are.

Your hand pauses as your brain catches up with the pleasure of it, hips moving without a thought against the feeling. The friction stops as quickly as it comes, a small slap coming down onto your mound.

“Yer so needy that with the slightest bit ‘f pleasure, yer brain stops working,” Your boyfriend laughs, dropping another kiss to your lips.

“Shut up. Thought you were gonna give me what I want?” You knew your impatience was threaded into your words, but you couldn't help it. Plus, your words always baited him, just as he baited you.

“Alright, alright,” he draws out the first two words, a glint in his eyes. “I’ll give ya exactly what ya want.”

His fingers reach down again, yanking your underwear to the side. You let out a small noise as the fabric touches the other side of your thigh, embarrassed that you could feel the dampness.

“Shit, maybe we should get a towel or something,” You trail off, thinking about the fabric of the couch for the first time that night. He lets out a chuckle, shaking his head.

“Ya should have thought of it earlier. Are you gonna let me touch ya, or do you wanna keep talkin? Cause we can conversate instead.”

Words die in your throat as he takes action. Osamu’s  touch trailing up and down your slit, he brushes his thumb against your clit as he prepares to slide a finger in. Rubbing small circles, he lets out a groan at the feeling of you around his digit.

The way he curls those same ones after sliding another in, thumb still toying with your clit has you keening, eyes barely able to stay open. Your hand rushing to hold onto his forearm, you know that he could make you finish quickly just like this.

“So noisy tonight, sweetheart. S’cute.” You force yourself to look at him as the words leave his mouth, and his expression only makes everything worse. Eyes dark and trained on the way his fingers slide in and out of you, sloppy sounds mingling with the heavy breathing from the both of you.

“Stop staring,” you whine out, digging your nails into his skin. “It’s embarrassing when you do it like that.” Once again, not entirely a lie, but it also makes you feel that much hotter inside. You already know he’s not going to, so it's no surprise when he ignores your words.

“Love how you feel around my fingers. Y’know, I was gonna take real good care of ya, and have you cumming around my cock, but,” he pauses, letting a soft laugh slip out again. “I want ya to finish like this first.”

He sucks in a breath at the feeling of you squirming more, tightening around his digits, and knows this means that you’re nearing the end. He slows down as he speaks once more, enjoying the way you’re teetering on the edge.

 “Aw, darlin’. Ya gonna cum? Use yer words. Tell me.”

“Fuck,” you gasp, back arching as your hold on his arm gets that much tighter, “Samu please, please, I’m about to,” your words continue to tumble out.

They’re almost slurred as you whine, trying to talk through your impending release. He’s quick to murmur praises to you, cockiness slipping from his voice as he presses featherlight kisses to the crown of your head, picking the pace up once more to bring you over the crest of it.

“Thaaaat’s it,” he coos, letting you ride it out. “That’s my girl.”

© MAPLESUNA ! do not recommend me on any other sites, no reposts/translation/plagiarism allowed. reblogs + likes are appreciated!

no face, no case • eren jaeger x black !fem reader

who knew that a simple picture posted on your Instagram could cause so much controversy? Oh…if only they knew the origin of it.

themes: just some nasty ass vacation/hotel sex, marriage proposal, marking (from the reader), foot play, drunk eren, back shots, overstim, slapping, choking..yktv

📝: sliding down a wall thinking about Eren and his influencer wife again like ughhh…this is just a little short drabble I’m totally not using an excuse to avoid finishing the full fic..never 🌚

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48 minutes ago

10,076 likes

location: Santorini, Greece

not exactly the reaction you were expecting to garner for a simple photo. A mere picture like the countless hundreds of others that could be found on your instagram feed..except it wasn’t!..and granted, it was nothing for you to crack one hundred thousand in a day but this?..was for a whole other reason. Reasons that had sent your entire following and the rest of the of the internet into a frenzy. Your texts practically imploding and notifications gone off the rails.

blogs like TheShadeRoom scrambling and breaking their fingers trying to post about the salacious snapshot posted from (reader’s social media name). What photo? Just a selfie taken from a ceiling mirror of the Katikies hotel room..

swaddled by crinkled white sheets and a man with long hair, tan skin, a tattoo on his right shoulder blade with various scratches on his back as he lie on top of you. Your right hand splayed across his skin and your ring finger glistening with a giant rock.

right now, you were the number one trending topic on Twitter..timeline ablaze with speculation of who was asleep in your bed. But in a not so distant past, he was wide awake, contributing to the mess you both lie in..

one hour earlier….

“F-fuck! Baby…you fucking me so good!”

the words spilling from between your drool stained lips, head tilted backwards courtesy of his fist clutched around the Brazilian wavy bundles cascading to your thin waist. The same hand held the diamonds of his buss down AP gleaming under the dimmed lighting, kept you reigned in as he tugged (y/n) back against his cock.

each inch filling you repeatedly and only getting deeper as those strokes intensified. Your thick, plump ass bouncing off the v-line of his chiseled six pack, moving fluidly like water as he pumped you full.. “I can’t help it..this pussy ‘s good, babygirl..and you creaming on my shit too, goddamnnn.”

that whiny wail coming from none other than world renowned artist and your fiancé, Eren Jaeger. Although that last part was to remain a secret until the two of you were ready to pop out and share that with the world. For now, you were celebrating your newfound engagement with passionate, rough and filthy lovemaking.

he had flew you out to the island on a last minute, spur of the moment getaway to celebrate the release of his long awaited EP and its success. Little did you know in the midst of a toast at an intimate candlelight dinner, would he fall to one knee, brandishing a small velvet box and ask you to be his wife. Without hesitation, you accepted and now, fast forward and you were being treated like his dirty little slut!

“..and imma get to fuck you like this for the rest of my life..oh shit..” so helplessly and needy rutting his hips into your bouncing backside. That tight grip of your cunt and milky cream, thanks to a thumb resting in your asshole, slathering him made it hard to keep his composure. Oh, he was so pathetic and fucking sexy as he hovered over your body.

but he always got like this with alcohol in his system. Shots of Dusse exchanged in the hot tub had led to the dark liquor coursing your veins and bringing out your nastiest sides.

from letting him dangle your head from the edge of the mattress and sloppily fuck your throat into oblivion as you drank his cum like water or sitting atop his face and gliding your pretty pussy across his lips until he sucked your sensitive clit to a squirting climax..going for rounds and rounds to give each other insurmountable pleasure. Beating your poor little walls sore with that big dick and he still was going! Now, you were hitting your second winds and it was as if he was trying to break the bed in the process.

“Aaah! Erennn..right there, you hitting my fucking spot!…gonna make m’ come all over this dick!” hearing your sweet voice cry out like that that done nothing more than to fuel his raging fire. Roping a hand underneath your thick thighs to massage your little bud;

coffin tips of the long acrylics brushing gently against your folds. Meanwhile, he had arched your back to its highest point and began pounding that dripping heat. Your mouth cradling a fluffy pillow in front of you as tried to muffle those moans but it was to no avail.

reaching across, Eren grasped that white linen and tossed it to the floor before folding himself completely over (y/n)’s back that he proceeded to mark with light kisses. Heavy full balls slapping against your slit and making your legs quiver in the process. “Then let me hear it, baby. Tell me how good it is..who that pussy belongs to.”

there wasn’t a single doubt in his mind from the way he had you clawing at the sheets and nutting all over his shaft but something about hearing it just inflated his ego. Tugging at your throat now, he’d pull you towards him to hiss in your ear as he spanked your ass. “I said let me hear that shit, mama..don’t get quiet on me now.”

without having to repeat himself twice, you’d mutter in a choked out whimper, glaring up at him with fluttering eyes and answer: “..mmm, you daddy! This pussy yours..” satisfied and quite full of himself, your future husband smirked and pulled you into a searing kiss, shoving his tongue into your mouth where he drew out a trail of saliva when you parted.

in an almost lightning fast motion, he’d pull out slightly only to flip you over onto your back and fold your legs up; curling your thighs in his muscular, inked up arms. Both knees burrowed into the the memory foam, sinking down as he gathered his stance one more time. Gripping the shaft of that stiff cock, he’d tap the head against your messy sex..coaxing out more of that stickiness he craved. He couldn’t stop until you were pumped full of his nut either so with that, he’d push that thick length through your walls until you could feel it resting at the pit of your stomach.

emerald green eyes locked into your own as he stared down at your face, watching the reactions change by the second as he pinned you down and stuffed that tight pussy with every inch he could offer. Thrusting gently for only a second to slow his pacing. In that short minute, he’d glance down to spot your feet plastered to his chest…

a gold anklet with his initials and white painted toes planted to his skin. To quell your shaking, Eren slid them into his mouth and suckled as he continued to feed you deep strokes. Flicking his tongue over your instep and ankle as well.

“Oooh fuck…you know how much I love that shit, baby..”

There was no time for him to go slow..he couldn’t handle it right now..it felt too goddamn good. Suddenly, a slight bulge started forming at the base of your tummy near that dangling belly button ring…and you’d push him back almost immediately. Big mistake.

rather than holding those legs back, your throat became the next resting place of his large hands. His thumbs brushing the sides of your face at the same time.

“Move your hands, baby. Or I’m only gonna get deeper..don’t you dare try to keep this shit from me right now.” Sucking his teeth, trying to keep himself from coming right there but it was all but impossible when he’d begin to drum out small splashes of squirt from your little hole. It’d spasm and clamp every time he’d pull out and go back in. You couldn’t stop and he didn’t try to stop it either. Just slapping those nine inches against you to make it worse. “Squirt on that shit, baby. Don’t hold it from me..” giving you light taps to the cheek to bring you back to consciousness.

Eventually though, he couldn’t keep up either and those rhythmic strokes slowed to more sporadic ones as his larger frame fell cast over you. Digging your nails deeply into his muscular back, adding to the collection of scratches from earlier;

keeping him close while he hit his final stride. You’d squeeze at his base and it caused faint gasps to erupt in your ear. With his long brown locks gliding over you, (y/n) cupped that handsome face and pulled him into a searing kiss to help ease his mind. “..c-can’t hold it..’m gonna come, princess! I’m coming in this pussy—“ the last words he uttered before you’d feel his stroking come to an abrupt halt and along with a loud groan, his entire load was emptied into your womb.

“Mmmm…yes. Come in me, daddy..let it out.” Encouraging with sweet nothings and slow rubs to his back. He was pumping for nearly an entire minute until you felt it come to a stop and he was left an overwhelmed and overstimulated mess…completely spent and at your whim. He hadn’t been this vulnerable in a very long time and he couldn’t believe that this was future. Fucking this beautiful woman every night until the day he died. Exchanging kisses and breathy ‘I love you’ ‘s in a moment of passion, you’d fall into one another’s grasp and soon after, he’d fall off into slumber.

gently caressing him, you’d place a soft peck to his temple..happily thinking about the fact that he was yours forever now. And just to capture the occasion, you’d reach over for your phone, grabbing the device from the nightstand. Tilting it up, (y/n) let the camera take a couple stills of your half nude bodies. It was a night you’d cherish forever and true enough, the world wouldn’t know who was responsible for that happiness until you were full and well ready.

but a little teaser wouldn’t hurt.

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if you made it this far, thank you so much for reading! please check out some of my other stuff in the masterlist. Likes are appreciated but reblogs would mean the world and help me out a TON! Also, considering leaving a little something in the tip jar if you’re feeling extra generous! 🫶🏾

his redemption | 02 | bakugo x reader

synopsis ⤸

after unknowingly moving in next door to a renown gang-leader, you are thrust into a foreign world tainted by the scars of his past. will you be able to help him redeem his sins before they finally catch up to him?

chapters ⤸

៚ contents

៚ prev

themes ⤸

fem! reader, 18+, dark fic, gang au, gang-leader! bakugo, doctor! reader, one night stands, friends with benefits, unrequited feelings, mutual pining, smut, graphic depictions of violence, kidnappings, mentions of blood, dubcon

word count ⤸

6.5k

a/n ⤸

so, i had planned to get this chapter out much sooner, but i kinda had a mini hiatus (oops). but! it’s here—finally—n i really hope that it’s worth the wait, bc almost a quarter of this wc is smut, smut, smut. enjoy!

reblogs are appreciated ~

two:

you do not see nor hear any sign of bakugo for over three weeks. 

the morning after his disappearance, you’d thrown out the bedsheets—the fabric stained an ugly shade of crimson—cursing between gritted teeth all the way to the outside dumpster. but despite your grievances, the medicinal instinct that festers inside you prevents you from resisting the urge to wonder at just how well his injuries are healing. he’s just a stranger, you try your best to remember, but that doesn’t stop the way that your stare seeks out the chipped green paint that coats the surface of his apartment door when you leave for work each morning. 

since the day that you’d moved in, new neighbour denki has taken to inviting you out for drinks, enthusiastic as he insists upon the notion of the two of you getting to know each other better. neighbours should be friends too, he’d gushed. or something along those lines; you hadn’t really been listening, because at that exact moment, you could have sworn that you’d seen a flash of blonde hair out on the balcony. without warning, you’d pelted down the hallway, denki gawking after you, baffled, as you yanked the door open with an unnecessary force. 

and much to your annoyance, the balcony had been empty. 

after peering over the railing, craning your neck both left and right—just to see if he’d walked off down towards the gardens—you’d heaved an exaggerated sigh before returning to denki, shoulders slumped with disappointment. 

the blonde had scratched the back of his neck, sheepish at the look on your face, but still dared to ask, ‘so, uh, drinks? on friday?’

‘friday,’ you had relented, giving confirmation without much thought. 

and so, right now, you’re balanced upon your tiptoes to lean closer to the bathroom mirror, applying a clear lipgloss to match the thin coating of mascara that had been hurriedly brushed over your lashes just a few moments before. dressed casually, you’re not all that bothered about putting in too much effort into an outing that you’re not really in the mood for, and yet, thinking of the boyish grin that had brightened denki’s face when you’d agreed has guilt forming somewhere in the depths of your stomach. the blonde is sweet enough, from what you’ve gathered, and you definitely aren’t opposed to befriending him, so, despite your lack of enthusiasm, you check your hair and makeup one last time before shuffling out to the bedroom to slip on your heels. exhaling, you make your way out of the door, locking it shut before you click, clack your way down the hall towards denki’s door. 

you barely manage to tap your knuckles against the door once before it flies open to reveal a dark haired woman, with equally as dark eyes that narrow slightly as she greets you.

‘new neighbour, i assume,’ she stretches out a hand towards you and you accept the handshake, forcing a smile. you haven’t a clue as to who she is, and she seems to have guessed your line of thinking, as she then reveals her name, ‘i’m jiro.’ 

‘nice to meet you,’ you offer, shifting on the spot, tension locking your spine rigid. she’s still staring at you, open with her blatant show of distrust, but you’re soon freed from her scrutiny as denki suddenly appears, beaming brightly as he bounds out into the hallway. 

‘hey!’ 

lips parting to greet him, you’re smiling once more, only to clam up as soon as the blonde bounds forward, wrapping his arms around you into a tight hug that forces a stuttered, surprised laugh that is choked from out of your mouth. bewildered, you catch jiro’s gaze as she watches with a bored expression, ‘he’s had a few already,’ is all she offers. 

‘oh,’ you manage to exhale, returning denki’s hug with less vigour, patting his shoulder once, twice, before retreating from the embrace. 

‘didn’t think you were gonna come,’ he pouts, before pointing to jiro, his grin widening, ‘have you met jiro yet? she’s my friend—whose a girl. she’s my girlfriend.’ 

you’re unable to ascertain as to whether he means that literally, but still, jiro’s cheeks appear to redden at this statement and you’re unable to stop the way that your mouth tilts into a gentle smile, ‘i have, yes.’ 

‘idiot,’ jiro grumbles, shoving a hand against the small of denki’s back, pushing. ‘let’s go, else we’ll be late.’ 

denki takes off first, dragging you along with him, and on the way out, you blink towards number 34, stare lingering upon the silver-coated numbers nailed into the door’s surface as denki tugs you towards the exit. jiro is close behind, having securely locked the apartment, hands stuffed into the pockets of her hoodie as she walks at a much more leisurely pace. 

when the three of you reach the bar that is conveniently situated just down the road from where you now live, after choosing a booth that is furthest away from the entrance, you are, admittedly, grateful when you receive your choice of drink in record timing. sipping at your flavoursome cocktail, you peer around the tropical themed environment, soca music playing in the background. you’re still new to the area, so you’re unfamiliar with this particular establishment, but it doesn’t take too long for you to decide that you appreciate it, despite the crowd of people that seems to grow larger with every passing minute. 

‘so,’ denki leans a little closer, so close that you’re actually able to recognise the faint scent of alcohol on his breath, ‘how are things at the clinic?’ 

nose crinkling, you’d almost forgotten that you’d told him about your line of work. allowing your purse to slip from your shoulder and onto the seat beside you, denki watches as you relax into the plush leather of the back of the booth. ‘it’s been a long week,’ you admit, attempting a smile that you hope will hide your exhaustion. ‘a very long week.’ 

‘betcha glad to get a drink down ya,’ he grins toothily. upon glancing down at the froth-rimmed glass that’s been abandoned on the table, you see that he’s already finished his first beer, eagerly awaiting his second.

you manage a small laugh, ‘it’s very much needed.’ you notice that jiro has barely touched her drink, not really paying attention to the conversation as she stares off to the side, eyes glazed over. blinking your attention back toward denki, you take another sip of your drink, ‘what about you? how’s work for you?’ 

denki waves a hand dismissively, ‘still on probation ‘cause of my contract with the agency. i don’t see why they won’t just hire me—the kids love me already and i’m amazing.’ 

you hadn’t been at all surprised when the blonde had told you that he was aiming to be a teaching assistant in the sports department at the local primary school, during a conversation that the two of you had had when he’d politely offered to help shift the seemingly endless stack of moving boxes into your apartment. it’s just the type of job that suits him, you think, and you don’t doubt that the kids like him—hell, you’re already warming up to him. 

‘they have regulations,’ jiro reminds him, suddenly joining the conversation. ‘they can’t just ignore them just because you happen to be good at your job. you’re still learning.’ 

‘well, i’m way better than the guy they actually have,’ denki protests. ‘he’s, like, seventy and can’t kick a ball at all. what the hell does he know about football?’ you hide your smile as jiro mumbles a comment that doesn’t reach your line of hearing. but denki seems to hear, a devilish grin playing the corner of his mouth. ‘that’s not what you were saying last—’

jiro manages to silence him by aiming a particularly hard jab to the blonde’s ribcage, but denki simply explodes with a loud bark of infectious laughter, only silencing when the waiter passes by to hand out the next round of drinks. you haven’t yet finished your first, choosing to quickly down the rest of it when you see the fresh glass that jiro slides over to you. 

and for the next few hours, the three of you consume a lot more alcohol than you had initially planned. 

by the time the clock on your mobile phone reads past one am, you’re a little more than tipsy. your temples are throbbing as your cheek presses to the palm of your hand, elbow precariously balanced upon the edge of the table, and you will yourself to remain awake as you watch denki challenge jiro to a game of cards. from where they got the stack from, you don’t know, beyond out of it to bring yourself to care. 

it is halfway through their third game when you sense someone watching you. the bar is now a lot busier than it had been when you’d first arrived, now crammed with a body count that is too large to sum up; most dancing, others nursing drinks at the bar. the volume of the music is now louder, so much so that you’re even struggling to hear your companions’ voices as they bicker over their game. 

‘you’re cheatin’!’ denki slurs heavily, but you aren’t paying enough attention to ascertain the accuracy of his accusation. 

eyes glancing around the bar as thoroughly as you can manage whilst this inebriated, you recognise that you’re searching for a needle in a haystack. it’s dizzying, looking at so many faces at once, and after a just a moment, you’re about to give up, only for your gaze to suddenly land upon a familiar face. 

kirishima stares right back at you from his seat at the bar, the stool beside him, empty. 

and much to your surprise, his welcome is almost immediate, his head tilting to beckon you forth, inviting you over. you hesitate, unsure. however, you’re also drunk, and so very curious, and so, it takes all of two seconds for you to stand from your seat. 

‘where you goin’?’ denki bellows over the music. 

‘i just saw a… friend,’ you blurt quickly. ‘i’ll be back in a minute—save my seat!’ 

denki nods, looking a little hesitant to let you go, but then jiro is distracting him with a touch to his cheek and his gaze is shifting, softening as he looks at her instead. you’re grinning, deciding to take your purse with you, snatching it from the spare seat before weaving through the crowd until you reach kirishima. 

he’s still staring, you realise, reluctantly perching upon the stool next to him when he points at it. he’s drinking alone, you note, one hand wrapped around a glass of whiskey as he leans a little closer so that you can hear him speak over the music, ‘what d'you want to drink?’ 

shifting in your seat, you’re hesitating again.  you don’t know this man, and yet, you’re unable to understand why his presence comforts you so. maybe it’s the alcohol that you’ve consumed, or maybe it’s the briefest of smiles that pulls at the corner of his mouth, but without meaning to, you’re already beginning to let down your guard. 

‘a woo-woo,’ the apples of your cheeks feel warm, self-conscious of the girlish choice of drink, even more so with kirishima looking at you with an amused quirk of his brow.  

‘’m not even surprised,’ he comments, before flagging down the bartender and reciting your order. as you wait, you fish into the depths of your purse for some money, holding it out to kirishima, who immediately rejects it. ‘this one’s on me,’ he insists when you stammer a protest, going as far as pushing the money back into the palm of your hand. dejectedly, you realise that he’s not going to allow you to pay, and so you drop the money back into your purse, zipping it shut with an exaggerated sigh. the bartender returns with your cocktail and kirishima hands over a paper-note that values a lot more than what your drink costs. ‘keep the change,’ he offers, and the bartender nods once before disappearing to tend to another customer. 

taking a long sip of your drink, you welcome the familiar rush of alcohol as it warms the back of your throat, looking up to watch kirishima down the remaining dregs of his whiskey, appearing to be much more sober than you are. swallowing down another mouthful, you sit upright, pushing back a loose tendril of baby hair that tickles the nape of your neck. the exhaustion that weighs on your shoulders is heavy, only accentuated by the alcohol that buzzes a fire in your stomach, and your eyelids blink rapidly in an attempt to keep you alert. 

‘didn’t know you were pals with jiro,’ you just manage to hear the low drawl of kirishima’s voice, his form towering as he leans closer so that you can hear him better. eyes darting over to where the couple are huddled together—still engaged in their increasingly heated game of solitaire—your head tilts. he doesn’t elaborate as to how he’s acquainted with jiro. 

a shoulder raises, ‘denki is my neighbour. he invited me out for drinks.’ your words slur, the syllables dragged along with each lilt of your voice, but that doesn’t stop you from consuming more of your beverage. it was free, after all. kirishima orders another drink—beer, this time—and you are surprised, bewildered, when the bartender doesn’t charge him. they must be more than acquaintances, you conclude, despite the fact that you (wrongly) suspect kirishima as a man with few friends. the two of you drink together in a comfortable silence, and it isn’t until the clock ticks past two am that kirishima offers to walk you home. stumbling as you scramble from your stool, you make to decline, ‘i-it’s okay. i’ll walk with—’

only, when you spin to flag down denki—pretending that the motion doesn’t make your temples throb horribly—to your drunken horror, he’s nowhere in sight. and neither is jiro. 

kirishima’s hand dares to touch your elbow, tugging you to his side to prevent you from falling over. ‘i sent them home.’ 

your neck cranes as you attempt to squint up at him. baffled, you struggle to recall him committing such a feat, but, struggle, you do, because as drunk as you are, you’re certain that you haven’t seen him talking to neither denki or jiro tonight.

a large arm curling around the width of your shoulders, kirishima is already steering you towards the exit, and you are given very little choice in the matter, reluctantly allowing him to accompany you home. there’s no harm, you relent, considering the fact that he already knows where you live, the short walk home quiet, save for the click-clack of your heels upon the pavement. when the two of you come to a halt at your front door, you just remember to offer a quiet thanks, muted around the slur of your tongue.

kirishima leans against the doorframe, suppressing a bemused twitch of his lips as he watches you attempt to push your key into the lock. it takes several tries, your fingers trembling, but eventually, the lock clicks, the door inching open when you push the palm of your hand to it. but before you step inside, you loiter, pupils dilating as they focus onto kirishima once more. 

‘how is he?’ 

the redhead regards you with an expression that you can no longer read. 

you swallow thickly, eventually deciding that he’s not going to answer as several long seconds pass by without a word shared between the two of you. 

‘he’s better,’ he breaks his silence, eyes watching as you kick off your heels by the door, exhaling a moan of relief as the pads of your feet mould into the carpeted flooring. ‘told you—he’s had worse,’ he pushes his weight from the wall, making to leave. 

absentmindedly, you tug at the blossom shaped keyring that ochaco had gifted you some years ago, the charm catching the light that shines in from the hallway as it dangles from your keys. 

‘make sure he takes the tablets i gave you,’ you mumble, brows pinching together because of the headache that is beginning to throb at your temples. you press an index finger to your lips, bile rising to the back of your throat.

kirishima stares at you, hesitant, ‘you good?’ 

waving a hand, you dismiss his concern, but when he still doesn’t move, you force a smile, assuring him that you’re just fine. 

‘hm,’ he hums, eyes narrowing, dubious, as if he doesn’t believe you. but you’re already beginning to close the door on him, barely managing to remember to thank him once again for walking you home. key twisting into the lock once more, you don’t bother to check if he’s actually left, hurrying to the kitchen to pour a large glass of water in the hopes that it’ll quash the nausea that churns at your stomach. 

it’s when you’re sat on the settee, downing a third pint when a thundering knock at the door startles you so much so, that you almost spill the remainder of your drink as you rush to place the glass down onto the coffee table. forcing yourself to your feet, you press an index finger to the bridge of your nose, and the ache that throbs there is now muted, but still very much present. marginally sobered by the consumption of water, you’re able to make your way down the hall, unlocking the door with ease this time, allowing it swing open. only, the face that greets you is one that has your brows twitching upwards, surprised.

bakugo leans against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest as he peers down at you, watching as you stare right back, unsure of how to greet him. kirishima had been right; the blonde looks miles better than he had when you’d last seen him. his eyes are heavily lidded, idle as they drag along the length of your body, pausing upon the stretch of your legs as he takes in your lack of attire, and you think that you can vaguely remember managing to pull your jeans off not long after you’d finished the first pint of water. 

clad in just an oversized jumper, you squirm under his stare, thighs pressing together just as your arms raise to cross over your chest. 

‘shitty hair said you were drunk,’ bakugo drawls, breaking the silence. the low baritone of his voice travels through your ears and settles right into the pit of your stomach. grimacing, you avoid his gaze, pointedly focusing on the fact that he refers to kirishima as ‘shitty hair’. 

licking at your dry lips, your toes buried into the carpet, you fail to notice the flick of bakugo’s eyes focusing on the shape of your mouth, your own trained in on his abdomen, where his t-shirt hides the injury that you’d stitched just a few weeks ago. 

‘can i check it?’ 

his spine is already straightening, making to follow you inside with an eager step forward just as you stumble backwards. quicker than you can process, his hand darts out, the width of his palm curling around your arm, steadying your balance in order to prevent your fall. the heat of his hand is scorching, rivalled only by the warmth that burns beneath the surface of your skin, your cheeks burning. murmuring a thanks, you tug yourself free from his grasp, shifting to the side to allow him to pass. he glides past you easily, already disappearing down the small hallway and toward the bedroom, leaving you to lock the door, where you lean against it as you gather your resolve.

what are you doing? 

you try to focus on the fact that he’s a stranger—god damn it—hesitating with your fingers curling around the hem of your jumper. blinking in the direction of the bedroom, you debate on as to whether you should just kick him out and demand that he gets himself checked at the hospital instead. but you’re no fool. even in your drunken state, you have enough wit about you to understand that that stab wound was no accident. someone had hurt him, deliberately, and because he’d been so stubbornly adamant on no hospitals when you had suggested it the first time, it’s hard to not jump to conclusions. still, you can’t stop yourself from suspecting that his lifestyle isn’t entirely on the legal side, especially if his scars are anything to go by. 

no, you decide. for a reason that you dare not dwell on, for now, his treatment is your responsibility.

and so, you wobble on the tips of your toes as you reach to grab the first aid kit from the kitchen cupboard, swallowing thickly as you shuffle your way into the bedroom. to your surprise, bakugo is already sat the end of the bed, his shirt scrunched beneath the fingers of his left hand, and you will your gaze away from the expanse of his tanned chest, temples throbbing as you move to switch the bedroom lamp on, shifting to kneel before him. 

the heat of his stare is molten, lids heavy as he regards you with an expression that you can’t decipher with your head spinning like this. your hands shake as you reach for the makeshift bandage that either he—or kirishima—has wrapped around the sharp lines of his torso, gently peeling it from his skin with an apprehensive crinkle of your nose. pleased to see that your stitches are still in place, you hum as you lean a tad closer to inspect the wound, the caress of your breath tickling the cut of his muscles. it’s scabbing nicely, you note, using your thumb to gently press around the wound, pausing when his abs constrict, a low grunt huffed out over the top of your head.

‘sorry,’ you mumble, turning your attention to the first aid kit. mind still fuzzy with intoxication, you’re a little slow with opening it, squinting as you busy yourself with cleaning around the wound before applying a fresh bandage—much neater than his own, if not a tad wonky due to your inebriation. ‘’s healing perfectly,’ you tell him, voice quiet. 

his next inhale is sharp, twisted around the shape of a soundless snarl as you press against a particularly sore spot, making sure the bandage is fixed in place. ‘great,’ he spits, glaring. 

‘if you want,’ you start, clearing your throat when your words begin to slur once again. ‘i can check it again next week… the stitches should have fallen out by then, but, uh, just in case…?’ 

‘’kay,’ is all he replies with, grabbing at the fabric of his shirt. he’s yet to make a move to put it back on, watching you pack the first aid kit away with sluggish movements. 

‘okay?’ you repeat, bleary eyed as you focus your stare upon his face; you hadn’t expected him to actually agree. 

the corner of his mouth twitches, and again, you’re subjected to a heat that prickles the back of your neck, the reds of his eyes narrowing as they focus on the nervous bob of your throat. ‘so,’ he grunts, expression morphing into one that is less friendly. ‘i still owe you.’ 

you frown, ‘don’t want you to owe me.’ it then occurs to you that you’re still knelt before him, and for a moment, it feels as if your headache is worsening, your index finger massaging at your temple. ‘i did it because i wanted to.’ 

that, and it’s hard to say no to someone who is bleeding all over your bed, you daren’t add. 

it is bakugo’s brows that form a frown this time. 

‘i don’t like owin’ people,’ he insists. he shifts on the mattress, as if ready to stand, only to stiffen when he also clocks onto the fact that you’re still knelt before him. ‘what’s your price?’ 

your eyes flicker a little lower, focusing on the shape of his mouth before you blink, vision a tad hazy, your cheeks warm.  ‘nothing.’

‘people don’t do anythin’—‘specially not savin’ someone’s life—for free,’ he argues, eyes hard, jaw wound tight. ‘tell me what you want in return.’ 

you can feel the beginnings of annoyance prickling at your nerves, fists clenching where they rest on your bare thighs. you suddenly feel a lot more sober. ‘i’m a doctor, which you already know—how do you know that, by the way?—saving lives is kinda what i do.’ 

he dodges your question, nostrils flaring as he demands, ‘tell me what you want.’

again, your gaze is slipping lower, blinking towards his lips once more, before your eyes snap upwards, focusing on his. and much to your surprise, the reds of his irises have darkened to a burning crimson that has the depths of your stomach knotting with something akin to molten lava. or so you think—maybe the alcohol is warping your ability to read expressions?

but apparently not, because now he’s leaning forward, the length of his spine curling as his ribs shift to accommodate his position. stupefied, you watch as he looms over you, the width of his thighs shifting—parting, you note with a dry swallow—and he’s so close that you can hear each inward drag of his breath as he inhales, lungs wheezing with the effort. 

intoxication has your pupils dilating, the blackened orbs widening as his fingers twitch, his breath fanning across the slope of your cheek as he repeats, the low drag of his voice catching on the rise of a barely concealed groan, ‘tell me what you want.’ 

and then, before you can process what you’re actually doing—because, really, what the hell are you doing?—your hands are reaching up, the tips of your fingers brushing against his skin as they dance along the length of his jaw. you’re hesitating, however, hands frozen where they rest upon his cheeks, appalled by the audacity of your own actions. you make to pull away, but before you’re given the chance to regret what you’ve done, his hands come to hold yours in place, the lengths of his fingers calloused and ridiculously hot against the backs of your own. unblinking, his eyes bore into yours as he slowly guides your hands down his face, tracing along the length of his neck, allowing you to feel the thump, thump, thump of his pulse beneath the pads of your fingers. 

up close, you dare to trace your thumb over the plush of his bottom lip, ignoring the jump of your heart when the corner of his mouth curls upwards, the stretch of his mouth forming into the shape of a smirk. your fingertips trace the annoyingly perfect ridge of his nose, brushing over his cheekbones until you press against the beauty mark on his chin, so minuscule that you’d’ve missed it if not for the fact that he’s encouraging the exploration of your touch as he leans a little closer. 

maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe it’s just because he’s stupidly, ridiculously, unfairly beautiful, but your gaze is awed, welcoming the wiggle of his fingers curling into the strands of your hair. he pulls, the length of your neck exposed as it stretches to follow the way that he forces your head back, his own lowering until his mouth hovers just centimetres from yours. his gaze is smouldering as he studies you, licking his bottom lip at the sight of your hair wrapped around his fingers, your eyes heavily lidded—with intoxication or lust, he cannot tell. 

‘tell me what you want,’ he murmurs, breath ghosting over your lips. he feels the way that you tremble against him and he shifts closer, trapping you between the broad stretch of his thighs.  

your hands are stroking over his collarbones, his eyes closing briefly at the sensation of your skin tickling his. still kneeling, you have to stretch to reach for his shoulders, your arms curling around the back of his neck, fingernails scraping against his scalp as you pull him closer. 

‘you.’

he immediately complies, mouth moulding to yours, hot and wet and feverous. the taste of him is overwhelming, dizzying, the glide of his tongue urgent as it explores the shape of your mouth, your toes curling into the carpet as he does so. the crooks of your fingers gripping his hair, twisting until he’s groaning, the blunts of his teeth dragging over your bottom lip, nipping until you’re gasping along with him.

you know that you’ll probably regret this in the morning, but all second thoughts are thrown out of the window as he reaches for you, hands suddenly grasping at your waist and hoisting you—with an ease that makes your head spin—up, up, up, until you’ve joined him on the bed, legs curling around his waist. kissing you until you’re struggling for breath, his fingers are sneaking beneath the hem of your jumper, a groan rumbling from the back of his throat as one hand grips you with an impressive strength, the other skimming against your stomach, all knuckles and wide palms. his fingertips reach to trace the curve of your breast, and the steady pace of your kiss now falters when you pause to gasp into the sharp jut of his jaw. 

you thank the gods for your intuitive decision to forgo a bra this evening, keening as his thumb—wetted by a quick swipe of his tongue—brushes over the peak of your nipple, pinching until you grace him with another breathy sigh that pitches when his teeth drag over the pulse at your throat. you know that it’ll bruise, and still, you encourage him with an experimental roll of your hips, your clothed pussy seeking a friction that can only be sated by the bulge that is rapidly hardening with each brush of your groin to his. grunting, there’s a perspiration that is forming on the nape of his neck, one that is ignored in favour of him rolling your nipple between his thumb and index finger, tongue expertly tracing circles down to the length of your collarbone, his hair tickling at your nose. you’re stifling a giggle, abdomen tensing and your tits bouncing as he huffs, feigning annoyance as he grumbles something about you ruining the mood whilst hiding his widening grin with a press to your sternum. his lips seek yours again, his fingers ghosting over the dip of your waist, and your breath catches on a moan when his hips jut, rolling, teasing. 

the palms of his hands splay themselves over the curve of your rear, encouraging the slow grind that has your thighs clenching with the effort. beneath you, his breath stutters, a short, strained groan punched from the bottom of his stomach, one that vibrates the bump of his adam’s apple as he tugs you up and down his pulsing length, his cock burning a ferocious heat through the cotton of his sweatpants. the drag of your pussy is one that has his blood humming, one that entices a pitched mewl—which he swallows down greedily, selfishly—his tongue tracing yours, bare chest warming yours as he reaches to tear your woollen jumper up and over your head. 

unceremoniously, it’s discarded upon the floor, and he’s fumbling for the tie on his sweatpants, shoving them down just enough so that you now feel the naked inferno of his cock, insistently pressing against the crook of your thigh. stomach coiling with excitement, your lungs expand and contract, struggling to suck in air fast enough, and struggling further so when he’s tonguing at the roof of your mouth like that. there’s a gentle stroke across your hip, his knuckles bumping along your inner thigh as impatience has him roughly tugging your underwear to the side. nerves have you tensing at the first touch, his index and middle fingers slipping between your velvety folds, delving into the pool of sap that drools from the very hole that he seeks. your legs tighten around his waist, aware enough as to not bump against his bandage as you adjust your knees, and that’s when you realise that he’s watching your face closely, your eyelids fluttering when the width of his fingers breach the opening of your pussy, gummy walls contracting around the bump of his knuckles that gently twist inside you. 

desperate, you cry out against his mouth, his teeth tugging at your bottom lip once more, your nails biting into the corded muscles of his biceps. it isn’t long until his fingers are withdrawing, your hips chasing after them, a whinge of protest spilling out of your mouth before you can muffle it. he’s chuckling breathily, deeply, breath hot on the shell of your ear. 

‘patience.’ 

and you don’t have to be patient for long. he’s guiding the length of his cock past the tight stretch of your cunt in one long thrust, his eyes screwing shut as he hilts, balls pressed tight to the plump of your rear, a chest-heaving groan expelled down the canal of your eardrum. the tickle of his public hair brushes over your clit, your toes curling just so, and hunger has your hips rolling, seeking friction. 

‘f-fuck,’ bakugo grunts, sweat trickling down his jaw as he inhales a stuttered breath. he withdraws slowly, testing the tremble of your thighs, before his hips cant upwards, harder, faster with each stroke. 

he sets a brutal pace, his grip bruising as he fucks into your dribbling heat over and over and over, and above him, you moan loudly, able to do very little other than cling on, fingers scrambling to find leverage upon his shoulders. he crushes your mouths together, tongue rapidly seeking yours as you attempt to keep up with his kisses, dizzied with the scent of him; addicted to the taste of him. the two of you are a tangle of limbs upon the bed, the room beginning to ooze with the stench of your alcohol-infused act, his name repeatedly slurred past your lips as your pussy secretes a mess that aids the wet schlick, schlick, schlick of his balls slapping against the round of your behind. your skin is damp—sticky—with the tantalising sap that seeps from the fluttering walls of your cunt, creaming a mess around the width of his slick-coated girth, and this only seems to spear him on, the slick sound of your connection accentuated with each rough drag of his hips as he drills into the pulsing heat of your cunt at such a pace that you struggle to catch your breath. 

abruptly, he stills, cock buried within the cushioning of your inner walls, the scratch of his pubic hair grinding over your clit—just right there—encouraging the sudden snapping of the coil in your stomach. nails digging into the meat of his shoulders, your tone pitches, keening on the syllables of bakugo’s name, your toes curling where your legs are crossed behind his back. your legs tremble as he fuck, fuck, fucks you through your climax, groaning as your juices aid the slip-and-slide of his cock drilling in tune to the flutter of your gummy walls that tighten around his base with a cheek-warming squelch. the sensation is addictive, even with the trickle of cream that is pooling a mess all over his balls, and it’s almost with regret when he can feel the tell-tale electric bite that jolts deep in his abdomen, a sharp warning of his fast-approaching peak. 

he shifts to lie flat on his back, dragging you along with him with a choked moan when your fingers knot into the tresses of his hair, pulling. the curves of his muscles bulge, biceps tensing as he shifts you higher upon his lap, both of his arms encircling the circumference of your waist in order to hold you in place as his pace becomes sloppier with his yearning need to come undone. 

clit thrumming with oversensitivity, you breathe a whimper into the warmth of his neck, suckling at the sweat-dampened skin as his cock repeatedly pistons its way past the aching opening of your cunt, the new angle coaxing a sharp cry against his collarbone. he exclaims something utterly guttural in reply—a groan, or a growl, you can’t decipher—evidence of his own bliss spilling past his lips as he chases his own climax. it doesn’t take much longer, his hips slick with sweat as he comes undone with a bellow, his seed finally claiming home inside the snug curve of your cunny, painting the plush of your cervix white. he’s loud, gasping and choking in between a series of growls that serve to encourage the weak throb that pulses between your legs, thrusting once, twice, thrice, until his hips falter, prick beginning to soften until it finally slips free from the safety of your cunt. there’s a gush, followed by a tacky, drooling web of opalescent that oozes from between your folds, the puffy shape of your pussy now swollen with arousal as it clenches, releasing another seepage of semen that dribbles a path onto the mattress, leaving a sticky, glistening mess in its wake. fighting to catch his breath, his grip tightens, his fingers splayed as his palm strokes over the length of your spine.

spent, his head rests, the apple of his cheek pressed to your shoulder, panting as his fingers rake over your sweat-drenched hair. your weight is slumped atop him, weak-kneed and breathless, and there, the two of you remain, embracing until the tempo of your pulse dwindles into a pace that doesn’t make your head spin. it is you who moves first, detangling your limbs from his and standing upon trembling legs when you rise from the bed. he seems reluctant as he allows you to withdraw, fingertips brushing over the dip of your back before you step out of reach, his eyes narrowing in on the way that the muscles of your thighs protest, aching as you both begin to fix your clothing back in place. 

a short while later, you’re guiding him to the door, hyperaware of the weight of his stare that lingers on the blemishes that litter your throat. the door is unlocked with a click! and you’re expecting him to make his escape immediately. however, to your surprise, he’s leaning closer, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth, before moulding his lips to yours, greedily tasting the inside of your cheeks yet again. his thumb soothes a calloused path down the slope of your chin, fiery irises burning into the depths of yours before he tears himself from the comfort of you, sauntering down the hall towards the exit, not looking back. you loiter by the doorway, watching until his head ducks, disappearing from your line of sight, before you retreat into the safety of your apartment, legs quivering as you slowly make your way back to your bed. 

you awake the next morning, regretful, his mark tainting your skin. 

© obitohno. all rights reserved. do not repost my works.

cherry waves / hayakawa aki

Aki is undeniably, wholeheartedly in love with you, and there's nowhere he tells you he loves you more than right here, in his bed, when you're under him.

cherry waves - deftones

all my love to @kentoangel for giving me the inspiration to make this fic!!!! ilysmmmmm!!!!!!!!!! 💗

pairing: hayakawa aki x fem!reader

word count: 6.1k

tags: 18+, smut, fluff, fingering, cunnilingus, tender sex, overstimulation, dirty talk, smoking, established relationship, lots and lots of i love you's, soft dom aki

this work contains explicit content intended for 18+ individuals. please read the tags and do not interact if you are a minor.

Aki is undeniably, wholeheartedly in love with you. 

He tells you every single day. Before he goes to work, he leaves a note on the fridge: There's cash on the coffee table if you want to go out and treat yourself. Have a good day baby. I love you. :) His handwriting is neat, sleek, and formal, like him personified with pen, but when he gets to the I love you, the letters seem to become a bit messier. He scribbles them nervously, as if he feels a little embarrassed about writing it, about seeing the words on the paper, tangible and real. Regardless, you pluck the note off the fridge and keep it in your drawer, alongside the hundreds of others he's written for you. 

With his voice, he asserts it even more. When he manages to get a break at work, he steps aside to call you for as long as he can, even if it's only for a few minutes. He tells you he loves you before he hangs up the phone, says how much he misses you while admiring the polaroid of you in his wallet. I think about you every second that I'm here. I can't wait to come home to you. 

He'll profess his love in the late hours of the night, limbs tangled with yours under the sheets, while he holds you close to his chest. He litters your forehead with the lightest, most delicate of kisses, as though you're made of porcelain beneath his lips. The words are uttered drowsily, like they're heavy in his throat, and he whispers them over and over again, as if his fondness is spilling over, uncontained. You're already fast asleep in his arms by now, so his I love you's fade into the darkness, but perhaps you'll end up hearing them in your dreams. 

It slips off of his tongue again when he shares lunch with you. He takes an orange from the fruit bowl in the kitchen, peels it, pulls the pieces clean apart. There's an odd number of slices. He gives you the extra one. The citrus tastes sweet on his tongue, just as sweet as what falls from his lips. God, I love you so much, you know that? It catches you a bit off guard when he says it out of no-where, but before you can ask him where his sudden remark came from, he's shutting you up with a kiss that tastes sugar-coated. 

He's just lucky to have you. Lucky and oh-so grateful to share both his life and his love. This quiet scene, shared between only the two of you: it's simple, but he's never felt more alive. Aki is finally able to live how he's always wanted, enjoying the most mundane of moments with the one he genuinely loves, who loves him just as much. 

If he is the moon — cold, monochrome, and stormy — then you're definitely the sun, shining like rays of daybreak light and eternally warm like a summer's heatwave. In a world of devils, of heartache and the bitter taste of blood, you would be his idea of an angel. 

He's still not sure if he even deserves this, nor does he understand how someone like him got so damn fortunate. And it's cheesy, but he wouldn't trade this life for any other, or for anything in the universe. He just wishes he got the chance to meet you, to cherish you and this life, so, so much sooner. 

All he can do now is make the most of it, tell you he's in love with you in as many sentences as he can possibly fit it into, kiss you until his lips are bruising, promise you, I'll stay with you, for as long as this world will allow. Cross my heart and hope to die, my love. 

There's nowhere else he belongs but here. His arms belong wrapped around you, his lips belong on yours, he longs to be as intertwined with you as possible. There's nothing he wants to say more than your name and infinite chants of I love you, I love you, I love you. 

And there's nowhere Aki tells you he loves you more than right here, in his bed, when you're under him. The phrase is whispered in your ear, warm and true, the slightest bit shaky. "You're beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. I'm so in love with you." He says the words softly, but in your chest, they feel like the intense blaze and explosion of a sky filled with fireworks. 

A vinyl spins and spins in the humble record player, and the speakers play a song. The low music resounds in harmony with the soft pitter-patter of rain. Droplets blanket the tin roof above and then tap gently against the window. Silk curtains are pulled slightly ajar, and blurry, fluorescent lights from the city shine through fogged up glass, illuminating the dim room. 

His clothes and yours lie in a heap on the floor. He slipped off his oxfords at the door, shed his suit jacket over the couch. You loosened his tie and tossed it aside, popped each button on his dress shirt, unfastened his belt and his zipper to pull down his slacks. You reached into his hair and tugged on his hairtie until it came free from the topknot and the dark strands fell around his face. 

He pulled your pants down and off of your legs, then hooked his fingers around the waistband of your underwear. He kissed you through the fabric, grinning when your legs shivered, before taking them off, leaving you in only the shirt you were wearing.  

The album playing is one Aki picked out. The music itself is a bit grungy, maybe even a little out-of-style, but it's one of your favorite bands, and since it's your favorite, it became his too. He plays the cassette you gave him in the car when he drives, listens to the record on loop when you're gone because it always reminds him of you. 

Strands of his hair tickle your face when he places a tender kiss on your forehead, then your cheek, your jaw, and finally your lips, where he grabs your chin between his thumb and forefinger to drag you in closer. He doesn't want to pull away, and so he lingers for far longer than necessary, kissing you softly, effortlessly. 

Your arms wrap around him, and you hold the back of his head with one hand, trail your fingers down his back with the other, and trace the scars that are littered between his shoulder blades. His hands find your thighs and he grips them carefully, slowly spreading them apart. 

He pulls away to pepper your neck with kisses and playful nibbles of his teeth, his lips unable to stay off of you. His fingers trail up, under your shirt, and on your chest, below your ribcage, his fingertips trace shapes onto your skin. It tingles when he draws circles, hearts, spells out the letters of his name with a feather-light touch, wishing he could engrave them in. If he could, he'd cover every last inch of you with his own being, until there's unmistakable proof that he was there, that he's in love with you. For now, the hickeys he's leaving on your nape will have to do. 

"So gorgeous," He mutters against your skin, words muffled, breath hot. "God, I just adore you." His voice is deep, quiet, as smooth as the velvet sheets and as familiar as the guitar riff you've long since memorized in this song.

When Aki leans back, there's a faint grin on his face, and the kindest look in his eyes. Just looking into them makes you feel like you're drowning in warmth. It's hard to recall when you first met him, it feels like forever ago. His gaze was so cold and frigid then, but now, it's taken on a much softer hue. 

Aki dotes on the fact that you're wearing nothing but his own shirt. It's one of his old t-shirts that you dug out from his dresser, and it's a baggy fit, but it looks beautiful on you, he thinks. His palms glide under it, caressing your bare skin. From this view, you look stunning. The way you're laid back on his pillow, arms sprawled out with hands upturned, you look absolutely darling, like a dose of fathomable heaven. 

Your senses are filled with the smell of his sheets, his clothing, and his laundry detergent. His cigarettes, his room, just the smell of him, it makes your head spin, and you melt into the comfort and familiarity of it all. You reach up to tuck his messy hair behind his ears, fiddling with the piercings on his lobes as his hands travel down. The glint in his earrings capture the hazy glow of the city lights. 

His hands reach your hips and he holds them tight, his thumbs rubbing comforting circles on your skin. He lifts them, aligns you, takes a deep breath. His heart pounds with anticipation, but he looks to you, asks if you're ready first, and only when you nod does he continue. With a hard swallow that makes his Adam's apple bob in his throat, then a fragile gasp and whine, he steadily presses inside you. 

You're so wet from the hours Aki spent teasing you before this, and so messy from the countless times you've came already for him. The inside of your thighs are shiny and glistening, covered with the love bites and pretty bruises he left there. 

It's on nights like these where Aki not only tells you how much he loves you, but shows you. He pleasures you all night long, until you've cum over and over again for him. Until morning light starts to seep through the blinds, and you're too tired to continue, falling asleep in his arms after the waves of pleasure subside. 

Earlier, he made you cum on his fingers, one hand holding his cigarette, the other nestled between your legs. He takes a drag in from the cig, tilting his head to exhale the smoke away from you, all while his middle finger runs up and down your pussy. He gets it wet with your slick before slowly pressing it inside, all the way to the knuckle. He drags it in and out, in and out, and when you buck your hips to meet his hand, he adds another. 

His ring finger stretches you out deliciously, and once it's all the way in, you can feel the cool metal of his promise ring pressed up against your entrance. 

It rests on the base of his finger: a modest, silver band. You wear a similar one, but yours is adorned with a bright, glittering diamond. He saved all his paychecks for months, surprising you with the matching set on your anniversary. Since then, he never takes it off, his promise to be yours anchored to him wherever he goes. 

He'll replace them someday; he's going to ask you to marry him in the future, and he's already convinced himself of it. He hopes you'll take his last name. There's no-one in the world he trusts more with the Hayakawa surname than you, and no-one else he'd rather pass it on to. Giving you that piece of himself would be a blessing. 

Aki's hands are so large and so pretty, big enough to eclipse your own when he holds them, or to cup your entire face with his palm like it's what he was meant to do. And his fingers are perfect; they're so long and slender, and they feel so good as he fucks you with them. You gasp when he curls them upwards, and his lips can't help but form a smile around his cigarette. 

You're always so receptive to his touch. You still giggle every time he kisses the back of your hand or the tip of your nose. Your heart still pounds when he embraces you, when his eyes lock with yours for too long. You fall apart for him every time, just as easily as the first. 

He finds it endearing, and he can't help but want to please you more and more, give you all of his affection. He stamps his cigarette out into the ashtray resting on the nightstand, abandoning it to put his full attention on you, whispering the most divine words into your ear. 

Listen to how wet you are. It feels good, right? Tell me it feels good.

He pumps his fingers in and out to a careful, tender rhythm. He makes sure to press them in enough so that each time, you feel the cold edges of his ring. 

Oh, baby, are you close? Don't hold back, I want you to cum for me. 

Aki can feel you tightening around his fingers. He notices your breathing picking up and your body starting to tense. He drags his fingers out and brings them to your clit, where he rubs tight circles, just how you like, in the way that always brings you to the edge for him time and time again. 

That's it. You're so beautiful when you cum, sweetheart. You make me want you so bad. 

Your thighs are sore, and your whole body is trembling, but Aki holds you close while you come down. You can go one more time for me, can't you, baby? Of course, when he asks you that, the answer is always going to be yes. 

He's dying to taste you, and so he makes you cum again, on his tongue this time. He plants open-mouthed kisses on your stomach, your hips, your thighs, onto every bone, mole, and soft spot his lips can find. Raise your hips a little for me, He instructs, sliding his arms under your thighs when you do so, There you go. Can you spread your legs a bit more for me too? 

He laps up the mess, presses his tongue in, fucks you with it. The rich flavor of his cigarettes still lingers in the back of his throat, and your sweet taste combined with it makes him feel delirious. 

He buries his face between your legs, his nose nudging at your clit, and he groans into your cunt when you run your fingers through his hair and pull him in. He kisses your clit with soft lips, licks it with the flat length of his tongue, takes it into his mouth and sucks on it hard. You're so pretty, he mumbles, but you hardly hear it. Your legs wrap around his head, and he doesn't stop until you're cumming for him again. 

Making you cum, listening to your pretty moans, watching you fall apart to his touch, it gets him so hard. His dick aches, throbs ceaselessly in his briefs, leaks out where it rests thick and heavy against his thigh. His mind goes foggy with lust, and he can feel the pure and utter want for you burning in his veins, settling in the cavity of his chest.

There's something about you that always makes him want more, makes him crave you, and causes him to desire everything you're willing to let him have. It's insatiable. He wants to be inside you so bad he can hardly stand it, but honestly, he could get off on just this alone. 

He could do this all night, surely. He always puts your pleasure above his own, and he would worship your body forever, make each curve and dip into his form of a prayer, if you'd only let him. He'll make you cum as many times as you can take, and as many times as you want. Whatever you want him to do, he'll do it for you. However much you want him to give, he'll give you even more. At your request, he'd give you every last part of himself. 

But on nights like this, even when your eyelids are heavy and threatening to shut, you need more of him. You want to be closer, so even when you're spent, you always end up begging him please, Please, Aki. I want you to fuck me. He wants it just as badly, if not more, and when you ask him like that, how can he resist? He'll always give you exactly what you ask for. 

His cock is thick and so fucking pretty, a perfect stretch when he fills you up. Aki takes his time, eases into you slowly, and you savor every single inch of him. The sight of his dick pressing inside you is damn near intoxicating, and he wouldn't be able to tear his gaze away if he tried. His pupils are blown, eyes glazed over, and his lips are slightly parted, quivering. 

When he's finally all the way in, you can feel his dick in your stomach, and he groans, pulling you in even closer by your waist. He hasn't even moved yet, and his head is already spinning. He waited so long for this, ended up teasing himself just as much as he teased you, and you're so tight around his cock, the feeling might consume him. He doesn't think he'll be able to last long, but he'll try. 

"Oh, fu-uck, baby-" Aki's voice cracks into a moan as he starts to fuck you, echoing a wet sound when he rolls his hips out, then presses back in deeply. He mumbles, "You feel so amazing, I love you. God, I love you." 

Before you can tell him you love him too, his lips come crashing onto yours. He kisses you slowly, at first, but he can't help himself from wanting to indulge in you further. Your lips feel like all he could ever need as they mesh with his. Then, he's kissing you deeply, breathlessly, like he can't get enough. He sucks on your tongue, sighing when he thrusts into you. He buries his cock in deeper just to feel you moan more into his mouth. Your hands thread through his hair, holding it back, keeping it out of his face. 

Honestly, the feeling itself isn't what turns you on the most. It's knowing that he is the one fucking you, Aki's dick is inside you. Aki, whose cold exterior you broke past, whose heartache you managed to cure. Aki, who deserves so much more than what the world has given him, who is nothing like what people say about him. 

Aki, who keeps his arm linked with yours while he makes dinner, trying out new recipes to find which one you like the best. Who wipes the tears from under your eyes with his thumbs, who gives you his jacket when it's cold outside, who still blushes when your knee bumps his in public, who makes you feel completely and utterly safe with him. Aki, who kisses you just like this, like the world is going to end. 

The way Aki loves is intense, but tender. It's exhilarating, but sincere. It never fails to take your breath away, yet still feels like a home you can return to. The kind of love that grounds you, but not without allowing you to fall for him more and more. The kind of love that's purposeful in everything, because in every possible instance, you're the one he wants, and the one he needs. You, and only you. 

When he draws away from you, his lips are ghosting on yours, and he whispers it again, "I love you," voice just barely audible over the music and the downpour. He pulls back further, reaches a hand into his messy hair to brush it out of his face, then cups your cheek. You lean into his warmth, his touch. You can feel the outline of his ring, and he has a stupid grin on his face when he mumbles, "Look at you. So beautiful, and you're all mine. How did I get so lucky?" It's true, but really, he's all yours — so hopelessly addicted to you. 

Aki makes love to you softly, almost lazily. It's sweet and passionate, and gives you a chance to enjoy the atmosphere and every little detail of it all. Aki's cheeks are flushed, his eyelashes flutter, and his chest heaves with every ragged breath he takes in. His moans are loud and needy, each roll of his hips deliberate, never too hard, because he knows how to make you cum without the need to be rough. 

Every time he shoves his cock in, it sends blood rushing to his head, and with each drag out, he whines from the pressure. He's sweating, and he grabs your shirt to hastily tug it up. Not enough to take it off, just enough to expose your chest to him. 

The storm is picking up now, and the rain has grown to a loud, universal drum as it pours from the sky. The record player is still going, vinyl spinning idly as it plays the next song on the album. Aki fucks you through it, nearly to the rhythm, but he isn't paying attention to the music. He's just focused on you. The ambience is drowned out by the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin and Aki's voice in your ear. 

"So good," Aki slurs, and one of his hands grips your waist, while the other finds yours to hold it tightly, your fingers interlaced with his. "You take my cock so well." 

"Aki… I..." You stammer out, unable to say much more than that. 

"Yeah?" Aki stops completely, giving you a second to breathe. He leans in a little closer, studies your face, and quietly asks, "What is it, baby? What do you want?" 

"Want you deeper, I want you to fuck me more, please-"

"Shit," Aki sighs, clearly losing his composure for a second. He already had an idea of what you were going to ask for, but he still absolutely loves when you beg for him. He exhales a shaky breath, "Okay, baby, okay." 

Aki's pace quickens a little, and he presses his body closer to yours, desperate to get himself even deeper inside. He's gasping, finding it difficult to breathe as he fucks into you harder, with less of his deliberate movements, and more of his own desperation. He's losing control, little by little, with each thrust and each noise he pulls out of you. You wrap your arms around him, and it's like he's falling into you. 

All it took was that little bit of extra speed, shoving his cock in deeper, harder, and your heavenly moans and cries into his ear for him to be just barely hanging onto the edge. You feel good, way too good. Too perfect, and he's too vulnerable, linked inseparably with you. 

"Oh my God, I c-can't, you feel so- fuck, fucking amazing," He stammers, barely able to get the words out, moaning after every unsteady thrust into you as he begins to lose his rhythm. His high-pitched whines are a perfect contrast to the deep vibrato of his voice. "I can't, baby, I'm so close, I'm gonna cum-" 

He's trying so much to hold out, but he's so needy, and it's made evident by his moans and the love-drunk expression on his face when he leans back to look at you. His eyebrows are knitted, his lips are parted, and he's flushed red, all the way to the tips of his ears. Despite how badly he wants it, he thinks he might be able to keep going for a little while longer, but when you start begging for him to let go, to cum for you, he's done for. 

He gives you a couple more desperate thrusts before he pulls out, panting hard, and his dick throbs in his hand as he jerks it. He whines your name as his cum spills out all over your pussy, your stomach, and your thighs. All over his own trembling fingers and down his knuckles, making his hand sticky and messy. 

Aki takes a moment to catch his breath. Strands of hair stick to his forehead from his sweat and he does his best to brush them away. He glides two fingers through the mess on your stomach, then collects what drips down your thighs, before bringing them to your mouth. You open before he has to tell you to, and he smears his cum all over your tongue. You suck on his slender fingers and twirl your tongue around his whole hand, licking up every last drop. 

"That's it," Aki praises, exhaling a shaky sigh, "Such a good girl for me. You made me feel so fucking good, baby." 

You hum around his fingers in response. 

He's close to collapsing, his whole body covered in a blanket of exhaustion, but his focus is on you. He's still so damn hard, already dribbling pre-cum out all over your soft stomach. And he's still so eager to please you, still so desperate to have you. Watching you take his fingers just reignited that feeling. 

Aki takes his fingers out, and they're wet with your own saliva when he grabs your face and squeezes your cheeks. He swallows, and the way his normally resolute voice wavers implies that he's the slightest bit nervous when he admits, "I still need you." 

"I need you too. Please."

The tip of his dick is sensitive, to the point where just pressing it to your entrance makes him whine and briefly falter. He strokes up the length, trying to get himself used to the stimulation, swiping his palm over the tip to smear the shaft with his pre-cum. He doesn't want to make you wait for too long, so he brings it back to your pussy, dragging it over, getting it messy with your slick and his cum before he slowly eases back in. 

"Oh, God," Aki's head falls, and you wrap your legs around his back, tangling your fingers in his hair. You run them through close to the scalp, gently holding the back of his head, and he stammers, "S-So… It's so…"

It's so sloppy, so wet. So overwhelming, and all too much. His cock slides in and out with ease, and he fucks into you as much as he can possibly handle without falling apart at the seams. Your thighs are soaked, his dick is unbelievably messy, and the wet sound echoed each time he shoves himself in is so damn loud. 

"Babydoll, I'm-" Aki mumbles, but he's unable to finish his sentence, breaking into a string of pathetic whimpers. He feverishly gives your neck open-mouthed kisses as a way to shut himself up. 

The overstimulation is already starting to get to him. His legs are weak and shaky, threatening to buckle under the weight of each thrust into you. His dick is so goddamn sensitive that he can hardly handle this, and yet, he can't stop. The only thing running through his brain, through every nerve in his body is that he needs you, he needs this. He grabs your face with his hand and you hook your arms around his neck to pull him in, your lips clumsily connecting with his. 

Aki moans into your mouth as he kisses you, and mutters an I love you that slurs off of his tongue when yours swirls around his. The taste of himself on your mouth has him reeling, and he can't stop himself from rutting his hips into you hard. When he pulls away, there's drool dripping down his chin, and he wipes it hastily with the back of his hand. 

With his head in such a blur, he ends up telling you every little thought that enters into his mind. "Feels so g-good… So warm… Really w-wet, ah-" 

God, you just love him when he's like this. So fucked out and drunk on you he can hardly speak, his head so cloudy all he can think about is how you're making him feel. It's a side of him only you get to see; he's cold and serious with everyone else, but he's got a soft spot for you. The truth is, even when it seems like he's the one in control, you're the one who's held all the power over him from the start. You always have. 

You can leave hickeys on his neck that all his co-workers will see, scratch up his back with your fingernails until they leave red streaks across his skin, touch him anywhere and everywhere you please because he's yours to touch. Play with his pretty cock all you want, until he's pleading with you to let him cum, to give him more because he needs it. You can stuff his own tie in his mouth to keep him quiet, wrap your hands around his throat while you ride him. And he'll love every second of it, pure devotion reflected in the gaze he can't seem to keep off of you.  

He'll let you do anything you want to him, and he'll give you anything you ask for. Especially when he's this overwhelmed, drowning in his own pleasure. And if there's anything you want right now, it's to watch him lose his mind for you. 

So when you tell him to fuck you deeper, harder, pleading, Don't you dare stop, not even for a second, he'll do just that. When you tell him to kiss you, bite you, he does, placing hurried pecks over every inch of your face, leaving impressions of his teeth on your neck and shoulders. And when you tell him to keep talking to you, praise you, I want to hear your voice, his words are incoherent and breathless, but he stammers them all the same, and without a second thought. 

"Love you… I… A-Ah, it's-" Aki manages, trying to form something complete, but failing every time. His breaths are quickened and his chest is heaving when he begs, "Please," although he's not sure what he's even begging for. Tears prick at the corners of his eyes, and beads of sweat drip down his forehead. It's too much, but he needs you so badly he can't quit. He's desperate to feel you cum on his cock. 

Your legs are still wrapped around him, secured at the ankles. You glide your hands up his chest, then to where his collarbones jut out. Over his shoulders, up to his jawline, then down again to squeeze his arms. He's pretty, so pretty, the prettiest boy you've ever seen. 

He can feel you tightening around him, and can tell your moans are picking up as he fucks you. His thrusts are shallow; he needs the friction, but also longs to stay deep inside you. He's dizzy, seeing stars, and even though he's so overwhelmed that he's not sure if he can handle cumming again, a familiar knot starts forming in his gut. He chokes out, "C-Close." 

"Me too," You reply, "Want you to cum for me, fill me up, please, Aki-" 

There's no way, absolutely no way he can resist that. Between you begging for him and the way you say his name, he's done for. He'll always give you just what you want. 

The tension snaps, and Aki grabs your waist and pulls you closer to him, fucking you through his orgasm, filling you with his cum. He cums so hard, so loud, so desperately, his muscles tightening, his dick throbbing in your stomach, all while he whines your name and a mix of disjointed, endless I love you's. 

His thrusts become messy, unrelenting, and he doesn't stop, not when it sounds like he can hardly breathe, or when his whole body is trembling. Before he collapses onto you, he wedges a hand between your legs, his fingers rubbing tight circles on your clit. The feeling is one of utter euphoria, and it's enough to bring you to the edge. You slur his name over and over again as you finish, saying it in ways that make his heart flutter and swell in his chest. 

He slows when you're finally spent, his voice in your ear hoarse, but gentle, words spoken under his breath. "That's it, cum on me, baby. Just like that... Oh my God...."

The record has long since stopped by now, and the rain still falls, but nowhere near as hard as before. It creates an air of silence, and you're suddenly aware of your own heart in your ears, and Aki's heavy breaths, his swallows and meager gasps for air. His weight pins you to the mattress, and he pulls out incredibly slow, wrapping his arms around you to hold you even closer to himself. He smells of sex and sweat, of lingering smoke and a cozy familiarity. 

"You okay?" He asks, finally managing to catch his breath, whispering into the shell of your ear. 

"Yeah, yeah. I'm okay." 

"I love you so much. More than I could ever find a way to express," Aki sighs, taking your hand into his own, "You're the best thing that ever happened to me." 

You give a little half-hearted chuckle, and then you reply, "I love you too. So much." 

Aki pushes himself up a little to meet your gaze. His cheeks are covered in a rosy blush, and when your free hand comes to cup his cheek, he holds it there, his fingers tenderly rubbing circles into your knuckles, brushing over the curve of your ring. 

He smiles, softly, warm enough to melt fresh snow, and the bridge of his nose crinkles ever-so slightly. After a moment of hesitation, he asks, "You tired, baby?" 

You nod, eyelids heavy, your whole body weak and weary. Aki leans in, and you can feel his smile against your lips when he kisses you. He holds it, keeping his lips on yours for far longer than he needs to, like he always does. When he pulls back, he whispers, "Let's get you ready for bed." 

Aki gives you as much time as you need to rest, and when you're ready, he tugs your shirt over your head and carries you to the bathroom. He showers with you, lets you lean on him while he washes your hair, and kisses every inch of your skin while you both relax under the hot water. He dries you off, helps you get dressed, kisses the tip of your nose, asks if you're hungry. You say that you're not, but he offers to make you something anyways, and for his cooking, you can't refuse. 

When the two of you finally sink back into bed, Aki holds you close. His shape fits to yours perfectly, like two halves of the same whole. You can feel the metronome of his heartbeat thrumming in his chest. His hand grabs yours, absentmindedly, like the way magnets are pulled together, destined to find one another. 

"I have the day off tomorrow, what would you like to do, baby?" He asks as he plays with your hair, twirling strands around his fingers. 

"Mmm…" You feign thinking, but really, you're just trying to fight off your ever-growing sleepiness. "Can we go shopping?" 

"We can go wherever you'd like. You wanna go out to eat, too? We haven't in a while." 

It's because your cooking is so good, You think, but you answer with a nod so light you're hardly sure if he even noticed. He places a kiss on the crown of your head and replies, "Alright, we'll go somewhere nice." 

In your head, you imagine how the day with him tomorrow will go. Aki will slip out of bed to make breakfast as silently as possible, careful to avoid stepping on the spots that make the floor creak. You'll wake up to the smell of coffee brewing, to breakfast in bed. Aki will take you to the stores he knows you love, the ones that have the clothes you always say you feel the best in. He'll take you out to the restaurant you never ask for, because you know it's too expensive, but he secretly knows it's your favorite. And of course, he'll pay for everything. 

You begin to fall asleep as the scenes play out in your mind, melting into the lull of his soft breathing and the warmth of his arms. 

Aki's voice is drowsy when he asks, "You still awake?" 

There's no response, so he pulls you closer, holds you safely, presses your head to his heart, and tells you one last, I love you. 

And when he drifts off as well, he'll love you still, wholeheartedly. Even in his dreams, then until he breathes his last, and when he does, he's sure he'll continue to love you in the lifetime after this one. 

I'll love you as much as my heart can take. Cross my heart and hope to die. 

OCTOBER 1ST. VENOM

“eyes. lungs. pancreas. so many snacks, so little time.”

♱ — katsuki bakugou + monsterfucking.

♱ — synopsis; katsuki’s been a bad fiancé recently, he tries to tell himself that it’s all in his head ( literally ) and when his neglectful behaviour nearly ruins your engagement dinner — he has no choice but to make it up to you, with the help of a little symbiotic friend.

♱ — length; 5K

♱ — warnings; please read for your own safety! mdni, smut 18+, heavy smut, characters aged up to 20s, mentions of eating people, monsterfucking, dry humping, tentacles, overstimulation, pussy jobs, public sex, clothed sex, oral sex ( f!receiving ), pegging ( m!receiving ), fem!reader, venom!bakugou. not beta read !

♱ — notes; waaa!! hello everyone, welcome back to kinktober!! im so happy to be participating again, i hope you all enjoy whats in store for this year. starting with this baddie !! - m.list ₊ kinktober m.list ₊ taglist 𓆩♡𓆪

“just eat her…katsuki…” 

“no, you can fuck right off.” 

“why not? she is unpleasant…katsuki…its not like we like her anyways…” 

for the first time that night, katsuki indulges the mangled voice in his head— listening to the symbiotic alien that sludges through his voice and his body. venom is right. he hates his mother in law, soon to be mother in law, but the practicalities of it all aren’t what matter. red eyes drift to the devil’s incarnation of a woman, traditional yet rude and deserving of a beat down— katsuki thinks. if he could just take a bite, crunch down on the woman’s skull and swallow her whole, all of his problems would be solved.

“goodness, bakugou,” the woman leers with a nasty curl of her sweaty upper lip. “i’m paying for the wedding not for you to be dressed like a complete slob— you look awful, and at my only daughter’s engagement party!” she drones on and if venom were to murder this woman right now, she really would deserve it. 

“see? you are a loser, bakugou.”

he wasn’t dressed that bad, sure, it wasn’t the burgundy blazer and pressed white shirt you’d told him to pick up from the dry cleaners on the way home from work but— it was smart casual, a nice pair of jeans and a smart jacket. you liked that. that’s all that mattered.

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The yakuza’s wife part II  ➢ Toji x pregnant chubby f! reader

wc: 2k/15 minute read

cw: Smut, Somnophilia, Pregnancy sex, Slight Praise

part I

It didn’t take long for toji to impregnate you, helping you along every step of the way. Once it became your 2nd trimester you went for your check up, sadden that toji wasn’t able to attend, but you snagged another ultrasound photo to show him the progress.

He was there to pick you up, pulling up in a all black tinted car, stepping out to open the door for you.

“How’s the baby, is everything alright?”

You pull out the ultrasound, swaying the photo back and forth in your hands.

“Everything’s good! I just can’t wait to find out what we’re having when it’s time.”

Toji pulls you into his arms, gripping you by the ass as he pulls you in, kissing your forehead.

“I already know.”

Keep reading

FIRE AND ICE ⛧ 1.35k words.

the best dick you ever had on the worst person you wish you never met ━━━ ⛧ atsumu miya & afab!reader | smut.

tags. exes!au, toxic relationship, hate fucking, biting, manhandling, rough sex, choking, orgasm denial, one (1) face slap, spanking, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, babytrapping threats, slight blowjob, etc.

━━━ notes. thank you @tteokdoroki for coming up with the plot and creating the synopsis for this fic. & truth be told, i have never written for atsumu before, so treat me delicately if this is bad.

The lines between love and hate are very thin. It’s a thread — no, a spiderweb. The intricate and silky pattern, delicate to the touch but can easily get caught in. Whatever feelings you thought you had for Atsumu, it’s all in the past. Your chest vibrates with hatred, your bite is as venomous as a viper’s.

Your teeth digs into his skin as your body keeps the same rhythm. You shouldn’t be here right now, at his place. You shouldn’t come whenever you need your fix. Atsumu’s no good for you, you know better. You hate him so much.

You hate his pretty fucking face. You hate his brown eyes and how you still find yourself getting lost in them. You hate how your fingers still long to trace over his Hellenistic body — seemingly sculpted by the Greeks themselves. You hate looking into his eyes because you feel as if you’re reverting back to yourself. The naive person that fell for his cocky smile and charming ways. You were so shallow, caring for his good looks and not how he treats you.

However, the longer you hold eye contact, you’re reminded of how shitty he treated you for all those years. Six years of your life went to complete waste.

You really really hate Atsumu Miya, and every time you come back for more, you remind him.

Keep reading

go ahead n post that feet + kat post… i support u… i stand with you…

politely, baby (3.7k)

bakugou katsuki x f!reader

“i know you, you never buy furniture without thinking how to fuck on it first.” or you buy a new hammock and you’re both curious to know what can be done on it

cw: minors dni. fem!reader. established relationship. feet. katsuki sucks, licks, kisses your feet. all sweet n soft. fingering. kissing. he embarrasses you over it. outdoors in your private garden in a hammock. calls you a whore affectionately. kinda brat reader/brat tamer bkg.

a/n: the beloved foot fic. i hope this meets all your standards and if it doesn’t that’s not my problem lmao also if this is the first fic of mine you’ve read please know feet isn’t a common occurrence in my fics !!! THE PEOPLE WERE BEGGING ME AND WHO AM I TO DENY THEM ??? but also saying that, if you don’t think feet are your thing… have a go you might be surprised hehe

you 3:21pm: what r u up to????

you 3:21pm: my hammock came! the delivery guy carried it into the garden it was so fucking heavy

you 3:21pm: i need help from a big strong man to help me build it :( can you refer me to any?

katsuki rubbed his hand across his stubbled chin in amusement. he knew your little text message was code for please can you help me build this new piece of furniture i bought because i cannot be bothered to even try and i will start crying if i can’t find a screw and will start to sweat after one minute of labour. 

If it was anybody else, he’d send them a sweet ‘do it yourself’ and be on with his day. but he’s talking to you and there’s nothing he wouldn’t do if you asked. he also enjoys building shit, makes him feel all strong and masculine in-front you with a permanent reminder of what he did in your home.

katsuki 3:23pm: Ask politely baby

you 3:23pm: please can i borrow you and your big strong muscles to help build my hammock?

you 3:33pm: reward will be: kisses and takeout :)

katsuki was already on his way to you after your first message.

the summer breeze was light through your garden as the sun beamed down at you both. your favourite type of weather. it wasn’t too hot that you were dripping buckets or that the sun stubbornly glared in your face. instead, it was the right weather for shorts, sunglasses and a tank top as you suck on the straw to your lemonade, staring down at your boyfriend building furniture by hand. 

the sight was a dream. your summer playlist floated in the background out your speaker as you laid back in your deck chair, book cast aside on your mini table as katsuki perched cross-legged on the grass in his black crocs, navy shorts and white tank top. he was currently glancing between the paper instructions and two metal poles he was holding. he had a look of contentment on his features with a black thin headband to hold back his blonde locks to reveal his forehead and his dark sharp brows relaxed as he starts to screw something to something. you’ve got no clue.

“why d’you even need a hammock? you’ve got a working chair right there?” 

the male flicks his head up to look at you, his biceps tensing as his wrist flicks to turn his screwdriver. you’re fixated by the action until you remember he asked you a question. 

“who doesn’t want a hammock? and we can both fit in this one. we can’t fit on one of these.”

“yeah, we can if i’m on top of you. we can’t fuck like that in a hammock, your ass will be topplin’ out,” he chuckles to himself, ruby eyes twinkling when he takes in your pout. 

“my ass will only be falling out if you build it wrong and who said it’s for fucking? can’t i want to sit with you in my garden?” you cross your arms across your chest.

“i know you, you never buy furniture without thinking how to fuck on it first.” his sharp toothy grin melts through your lower half like the ice cubes in your lemonade.

your eyes narrow, okay yes it did ponder through your mind for a minute before pressing purchase. then you figured, you can both work it out once it’s built. “don’t make me sound like a pervert. whatever we decide to do on it depends on you making it.”

now, you stand beside katsuki who snaps a shot of his newest creation: your hammock. the thick white and grey striped fabric hangs curved from two very stable pillars of wood. it’s cute, matches the aesthetic of your garden completely and as the sun casts its golden glow down on it you’re eager to jump in. but first you reward your boyfriend.

lightly, you push katsuki’s arm holding his phone down, reaching up on your tiptoes to press a kiss onto his cheek, then on the corner of his lips then a sweet peck on the centre of his lips. your hand finds home at his chin and he blinks almost languidly down at you, a small smile sneaking onto his cheeks, “you like it?”

you nod, biting down on your lip, “just like amazon said. five stars for easy assembly. thanks ‘ki.”

katsuki chuckles, “let’s not rate it five stars yet. let’s see how it actually manages.”

you both stare at the hammock questioningly before katsuki’s hand on your waist slides down to smack at your bum.

“c’mon princess hop in.” with a literal jolt forward, you run your finger along the fabric, wondering if it would be actually able to even take your weight.

with a hesitant frown, you turn to face your boyfriend to sit down on the fabric, your legs swinging off the edge, “okay, first step complete.”

katsuki chuckles, “now swing your legs in.”

you swing your legs over to lay on the stretch of fabric. this thing could definitely hold you, katsuki too. a smile slides onto your face, even a little gasp.

“it actually works!” you screech, face peeping out from the fabric. then you hold your arms up, “come get in too, ki!”

katsuki grunts, mentally analysing how to slide in. he does what you did, sitting on the edge and shifting his hips almost gracefully at the other end of the hammock so he’s facing you. it was comfortable. more comfortable than you thought laying in swinging fabric would be. you felt like you were cocooned, wrapped up like a caterpillar and warm with your boyfriend laying under you. 

after some shuffling, he lifts you to rest between his legs with your legs on top of his chest and your feet on his pecs.

“yuck, get your feet off me!” you whine, flicking his big toe that was dangerously close to your face by your shoulders.

“nothin’ wrong with my feet. i should be sayin’ that about your gremlins right in front of my face.”

you wiggle your feet that sit on his pectorals, even poking his cheek with your toe. “now we both know you’re lying. my feet are cute, admit it.”

two big callous hands grip your feet, thumbs massaging the sole of your foot. katsuki’s always been good at massages, one of the many reasons why you keep him around. every touch is enough to lull you to a sweet slumber, soft moans sliding through your lips.

“guess they’re not that bad,” he grumbles and you know he’s still lying. there’s not a thing about you he finds bad, let alone your feet. 

“that feels good,” you moan, snuggling back into your hammock and gravity dragging your eyelids shut. his touch feels like heaven, rubbing strains and knots you didn’t even realise you had, out. you’re unbelievably comfortable with the soft breeze cooling you down and the familiarity of his rising chest under your legs. 

all until you feel a completely different sensation on your toe. alarmed, you open your eyes to find your boyfriend with the tiny limb in his mouth. coated in his spit and warm in the wet cave of his mouth. his tongue swiped across the soft pad of your toe before suctioning his cheeks and sucking. really sucking like he would between your legs. you grip his leg beside you for stability.

“what are you doing?” you ask surprised, voice careful and quiet as if you couldn’t figure out if you liked it or not. bakugou doesn’t reply. but he does level you with an amused stare, reading the confusion in your eyes. his left eyebrow raises as he mimics a baby with a dummy.

his tongue swirls around the gaps between your toes, the sensation making you twitch before adding two extra toes and giving a big suck again. “katsuki— ahh mhm.” your hand flies to your mouth with the confirmation that you do enjoy your toes getting sucked. you don’t need to guess to know the rush of heat through your body is due to this and not the summer heat. even the gush of wetness between your legs feels embarrassingly misplaced.

but you don’t pull your foot away. you sit in your horniness, zoning in on his pink lips around you, his big calloused palms still rubbing the pad of your foot by the heel. and lastly, his narrow ruby eyes watch for every little reaction your body makes. every suck you could vividly feel on your clit. your breathing hitches.

with a hand on his calf, “why does this feel good?”

loudly with a pop, katsuki takes your toes out of his mouth to run the tip of his tongue from the heel of your foot to the top. the wet muscle is stupidly ticklish on you, making you wiggle in his hold but he doesn’t let you budge.

“stop wrigglin’,” he growls against your skin, giving you a tiny nip before pressing wet kisses all over you. he combines it with nibbles with his teeth and his full lips sucking on the side where your foot curves. your breathing is heavy, all this attention on your feet is something you’ve never done before with anybody. your heartbeat is between your legs, begging for attention from the pretty blonde before you.

then he pulls away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand from the connecting spit. the grin katsuki gives you is the final knock in the nail for you; the cockiest, toothiest grin yet. “knew you’d like gettin’ your toes sucked.”

you frown, crossing your arms over your chest, to calm your desire to be touched in other places, “didn’t think you’d like sucking toes. i’ve been walking barefoot on the grass.”

katsuki chuckles and your frown wavers as your heart melts when he presses soft kisses along your toes. “you’ve been wearing your sandals the whole time and even if you weren’t shits fine with me when it’s you.”

“when it’s me?”

he scoffs like you’re stupid, “you’re mad if you think i’m putting anyone else’s toes in my mouth.”

you shrug smugly, uncrossing your arms again to run your fingers up his leg beside you.

“so are we gonna find out if this hammock can take us?” he asks, back to rubbing your feet with a curious stare.

you bend your knee to nudge the heel of your foot against his semi in his shorts. you stifle a giggle as his features relax momentarily, “why’re you hard?”

“you were lookin’ at me like i was some god for suckin’ your fuckin’ feet.” and without any warning, katsuki sits up and drags you by your thighs so your back rests on his knees and thighs. 

“s’pretty from this angle,” he mumbles lowly in the most lovestruck voice you could imagine. he brushes stray hairs off your face affectionately, even smoothing out your eyebrows with his thumbs and then pecking your forehead. 

you laugh shyly with his undivided attention, though with katsuki there’s always an opportunity to talk back to him, “you saying i’m ugly from other angles?”

“of course. it’s not like i call you beautiful daily, at all times, is it?” he scoffs, but katsuki is completely enamoured by you. licking his lips as his eyes flick to each of your features. eyes to your nose to your lips. hands running down your sides and squeezing.

“don’t look at me like that because i’m not about to kiss your foot mouth,” you warn, though he leans closer to you anyway, knowing full well you’ll let him do anything. you rest your arms on the junction between his neck and shoulders, easily smiling at the smirk plastered on his face.

“you’re not?” he raises his eyebrows, completely entertained by you as he manhandles you by your hips, dragging you further down his lap so you can feel the press of his cock against your centre when he leans over you.

you whimper, trying to blink the desire out your eyes, “no, that’s disgusting.” 

one pout of his lips and he’s touching yours. “mhm? i think you are though, baby. i think you—,”

if anyone asks you only kissed him so he shuts up. one hand on the back of his head as you push him onto your lips. he angles his head to the left as you move to the right, tongues licking against each other’s like you haven’t tasted each other in years. you caress his stubbled cheek, loud gulps as you try to take everything he gives you. 

katsuki is slick with it. nibbling at your lips and sucking on your tongue as he slowly pulls away. you chase after him but when he finally lets go. then you flop back onto his knees, a breathtaking smile landing on your face. 

you’re intoxicated by the man, cheeks all hot and your hair decorates his legs angelically. you make him want to scream. “what’s the plan, loverboy?”

he takes hold of your leg, straightening it out by his head. he speaks against your knee, lips brushing against your skin, “gonna take care of you. that good with you?” his ruby pupils hold your eyes, love swimming in them like lava in a volcano. 

bakugou doesn’t stop his worship there, he bends your leg towards you, knee by your head as he takes hold of your foot. it can barely count as a kiss as he brushes his lips across the bottom of your foot, so soft that whenever he presses a kiss you feel a rush of wetness between your legs.

“that feels good, ‘ki,” you whisper, eyes wide and glossy as he keeps your eyes locked on him. staring into you like you’d be a fool to look away.

he knows exactly what you mean by that, sweeter words to say that he’s making you horny right now. he grins into the new kisses before stretching out your leg and placing butterfly pecks down it. he’s loud with the smacks, every duck of his head, he keeps his eyes on your face. your pretty lips are parted, dying to rake your hands through his hair. then he begins to navigate south, kisses passing down your ankle to your calves to your knee to your thighs then—

“want me to touch your pussy?” in a deep growl as his nose brushes against your clothed centre. 

your breath hitches in your throat, your head nodding impatiently.

“obviously.”

katsuki sinks his teeth into your thigh, a little bite when you yelp. “no manners, huh? reply properly or i’ll push you off this hammock.”

you roll your eyes in humour, a smile creeping onto your face at the twinkle in his eye. “please touch me, my love.”

katsuki only gives you a little, rubbing his thumb on the outside of your shorts, “this good enough?” 

you bite down on your bottom lip. it’s not nearly enough. “no, i want you to take them off.”

he gives you a narrowed stare, “please! i want you to take them off please.”

with an understanding nod, katsuki helps you shuffle out of your shorts, throwing them on the grass below you and immediately moaning at the sight between your legs.

“fuck baby. this all for me?” and you’re nodding before you can help it. 

nothing about you will ever become tiring to the man. seeing you again, your outer lips all shiny with wetness, spreading you apart with two fingers with your cute little bud at the top and your sweet hole pulsating desperately around nothing. he’s just been making out with your feet.

“all for you katsuki.”

you make sure to pronounce every syllable of his name with perfection. he reacts almost feral, pupils becoming dark and his hold on you tighter like he’ll never let you out of his sight.

he holds out two fingers at your lips and obediently you lay out your tongue for him to place them on. then you suck, licking around them like you would his dick before he slowly pulls them out a rough chuckle from his chest. “such a whore babe.”

you pout, locking your legs around katsuki’s waist, only opening your legs more. “i’m only doing what you’re telling me t— fuhh, fuck katsuki.”

you throw your head back on his legs as mid-sentence katsuki thrusts his freshly sucked fingers into your wet hole. he slides right in, curling his fingers up and rubbing your soft spot. your back arches, grumbles and garbles leaving your lips.

“didn’t say it was a bad thing. you’re my lil whore. you love every fuckin’ thing i do to you.” you’re not disagreeing with him, you’re not able to as your fingers circle his wrist between your legs now pumping in and out noisily like you would a toy.

“oh fuckkk ‘ki,” you whine, eyes squeezed shut, features all mushed on your face. your thighs tremble relentlessly around katsuki’s waist, hips thrusting up to meet his fingers. you’re needy, desperate and begging for more. “katsuki.”

katsuki smirks, fingers thrusting faster and faster, his palm pressing on your stomach to keep you down on his lap, “you want somethin’ else, baby? somethin’ you wanna ask me for?”

you mewl like a cat, hands out grabbing for anything of him you can hold onto. “my clit, rub me.”

katsuki pinches your ass, stuffing you full with his fingers and not moving. you open your eyes to stare at your lover who stares back with his eyebrows raised. “why’d you stop?”

“ask politely, baby. really need to sort out your manners,” he tuts, slapping the squish of your thigh beside him. katsuki’s completely humoured by you. your soft pouting bottom lip, so sweet and kissable. your eyes are almost watering from the tight tension in your pussy and there’s a layer of sweat on your forehead from the heat and him.

“please touch my clit, n—need you so bad,” you shuffle up and down his legs, humping his hand that refuses to move. still he doesn’t, his thumb only lightly brushing your puffy bud. you gasp but it does nothing to soothe the building in your stomach, “katsuki, stop teasing. please.” 

your pleading turns katsuki’s grin animalistic, his cock tightening around his waistband. “good job baby, my cute lil whore. can’t believe your pussy’s wet just from me suckin’ your toes. your fuckin’ toes baby.”

katsuki restarts, pumping his fingers into your centre as he uses his other one to rub fast circles onto your clit. you whine in embarrassment, “stop saying that.”

“what? you got wet because i sucked your toes? you like my lips suckin’ your toes like i do your cute lil clit?” katsuki taunts and every word only makes the knot tighten in your stomach. 

you moan at his words, clawing for his arm as your bend your head to watch his drenched fingers enter in and out of you. you bite your lip, wetness gushing out of you at just the sight. “k-katsuki, oh my god i love you.”

katsuki chuckles, rough and rumbly, ducking down to press a kiss against your chin. “good girl, love you too baby. come for me now, yeah?”

it’s as if the words set off a switch inside of you, “s—slow down i’m gonna—,”

you come faster than you even expect, your back is in the air, fingers tight around his wrist and you’re whining at the wet visceral sound of the friction him inside you. “oh, uhf, mhm,” tumble out your lips as the knot in your stomach snaps. stars shoot behind your eyelids as sparks shoot down all your limbs, numbing them as they spasm around katsuki.

“c’mon baby, let it all out,” he soothes, working you through it. his fingers keep curling against your walls, his thumb clockwise on your bud. he keeps going, pecking kisses along your chin till you push his arm out.

“t—too much now,” you’re breathless, chest heaving and flicking your eyes up to the blue sky. 

you’re hardly ready for a conversation when katsuki says, “good going on the hammock. it’s comfortable, i can finger you and suck your toes.” katsuki hums before taking his two fingers slicked in your wetness into his mouth. 

you lazily knock your knee against his arm, you’re trying to blink back to reality, rubbing your eyes with your fist, “laugh at me all you want but you’re the one that enjoyed my feet in your mouth. says more about you than me, honey.”

katsuki shrugs, embarrassment is always rare to find on him. “i don’t care though baby. would do it again, even loved when you rubbed me with your foot.”

your eyebrows raise at his confession. he wipes his wet fingers on his shorts nonchalantly, massaging your thighs as you slowly sit up to face him. 

“why y’lookin’ at me like that?”

“you’re really into foot stuff, aren’t you?” you smile mischievously, placing his hands on your bare hips. you tilt your head and you take back what you said before, embarrassment isn’t rare to find on your lover. in fact, he just uses it against you when it’s really about himself.

the tips of his ears flush red and his bottom lip juts out as he grumbles, “you’ve just got cute feet. same way i like your hands, i like your feet.”

that excuse doesn’t save him, “would you like me to give you a foot job? like a hand job but instead my feet—,”

with a sigh, he puts his hand on your mouth to silence you. your eyes only widen, cheeks rising beneath his hand. he pecks your forehead at the same time you lick his palm.

both of your hands circle his wrist and his hand slides off your face, “so would you? a foot job?”

again he shrugs, lifting you by the ass to sit on his cock. he pecks your lips, rubbing his nose against yours. “wouldn’t mind, baby. i mean we could try it?”

you’re nodding like a bobblehead, “i’ve watched a porn of it before, i think i’d have good technique…”

LOVE ME A LITTLE MORE (4K)

— todoroki shoto x f!reader

SYNOPSIS: he don’t even scroll through insta ‘less he going through my pictures or while you’re stressed wondering why your boyfriend hasn’t commented on your new photo, he’s too busy jacking off to it.

WARNINGS: 18+, minors dni, masturbates over your photos, phone/facetime sex, you touch yourself too, established relationship, both switches, sorta a comfort fic/crybaby yn lol, youve got a nice ass, you both miss each other a lot, he spits on his dick

NOTES: omg look a todoroki fic!! not bakugou it’s todoroki!!! MY FIRST ONE!!! hope you all like it and his character isn’t off? tell me what you think when you’re finished :) also thank you aj tracey for the title

todoroki shoto hasn’t seen you in one month, two weeks, thirteen hours and forty-three seconds. he knows this because every time he looks at a clock, looks at his lockscreen, sees the sunrise for a new day and the sunset for the end of the day, he thinks of you. he tries to predict what you’d be doing at this exact time, whether you’re studying or at work, sleeping or just waking up. he even catches himself doing a social media sweep to see if you’ve posted anything.

sometimes he gets lost in it. in the corner of his hotel room in the armchair, staring lovingly at a new selfie you’ve posted on your instagram story. he stares for way too long, a stare that can only be excused with how much he loves and misses you, all bundled up into one. he then screenshots it to store permanently and after all that, he forgets to actually message you about the picture. 

what he doesn’t realise is that you on the other side of the country, are equally missing your bi-haired lover and are overthinking everything. okay, so maybe you posted a selfie for everyone to see just for the eyes of your boyfriend. yes, you could have just texted it to him but maybe you wanted him to miss you as much as you missed him, to know that people are still seeing you in the flesh while he isn’t.

you kinda hate the burn you feel in your stomach when you’ve seen that shoto with a verified blue tick hasn’t said anything to about your picture. not a like on your story, not an emoji, not even a message. he just viewed it. what the fuck?

Keep reading

𝟒:𝟓𝟎 𝐏𝐌 | 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒

cw. f!reader, c. somno, pussyjob, creampie

belphie can already feel his cock throbbing under his pants when he finds you napping in his bed.

you’re all curled up on yourself, his t-shirt you’re wearing is lifted over your ass leaving a good glimpse of your panties.

he couldn’t help himself. he had been thinking all morning about your nice tight pussy and now that you are serving it to him directly on his bed he can’t help but take advantage of it.

his boxers fall at his feet quickly. he didn’t like the thought of waking you up, he wanted to let you rest but the need to slide inside you was too strong.

his cock throbs as he presses it against your covered cunt and rubs it back and forth. his eyes roll back as a soft moan escapes from your lips.

his lips cling to your neck. belphie sucks your soft skin from behind your ear to your shoulders, hoping this will help stifle his desperate moans.

belphie’s hand runs from your side to your breast. he gropes it firmly and squeezes his index and thumb over your nipple, “you’re so good,” he whispers in your ear.

Keep reading

Pairing. Gojo, Yuuji, Sukuna, Megumi, Nanami x Fem!Reader (Separately)

Rating. NSFW/ Explicit

WC. 1.3k+

CW/ TW. Single-Parent Reader, Domestic Softness, Breeding Kink, Rough Sex, Pet Names (ex. Dove, Baby), Almost getting caught, All Characters Aged-Up (If I missed anything, please let me know!)

AN. All likes, comments, and reblogs are very much appreciated!

M. List

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 is a grown child himself sometimes, so he most likely has zero problems getting along with your daughter.

He calls her princess, and one day you walk into the living room to find your daughter putting clips in Satoru's platinum hair and unicorn stickers on his face. It's cute, and you secretly take a picture to make it your lock screen on your phone.

Most days, you have to cook or else those two will eat nothing but sweets all day. But on the days he does try to make dinner, he'll have a chair pushed up to the counter for your daughter to see and help—though your kitchen is often left a total mess afterward.

He probably develops a breeding kink because he wants more little you's running around the house—and you shiver when he tells you this while you're washing dishes, pressing himself along your back so you can feel how hard he is.

Satoru has your wrists pinned above your head, biting at your breasts greedily, his thrusts rough and needy. He's pretty sure you're both going to have carpet burns later, but his head is too gone to care.

He nuzzles the side of your face, hips brushing against your clit every time he presses his cock into you: "You gonna take all my cum in this tight cunt and make it mine, yeah?"

𝐘𝐔𝐔𝐉𝐈 is more shocked by the fact you have twins and less about you actually having kids.

It's no surprise that they're as drawn to his sunny personality as you are, both of them constantly vying for his attention. He takes the twins to the zoo and buys them new plushies for their bed—he even takes care of them when you're sick or stressed from work.

He has no issue considering the twins his and even lights up when someone points out how he makes a good father.

One thing he does lack, however, is subtlety.

You whine about moving to the bedroom when he decides to pull your small sleep shorts to the side and impale you on his achy length. His grip on your hips is gentle compared to the unforgiving pace of his thrusts below you, the couch groaning in protest.

"Shh, it's okay, baby." He presses a messy kiss to your lips. "They're sleeping. Now keep riding my cock."

And it's almost a close call when he cums with an animalistic groan, and you barely miss the sound of a door squeaking open upstairs before you throw the blanket over both of you.

𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 is probably super awkward—the type that's never wanted kids, and yet he knew that you and your daughter were a package deal when he met you.

This doesn't stop him from hating the fact that every time he leaves his room, he always ends up stepping on Legos, or that he can't eat anything without a small hand reaching out for his food.

Eventually, he warms up to the idea, and affectionately calls your daughter brat—he'll even go as far as begrudgingly making her chocolate pancakes and watching cheesy cartoons to appease the little tyrant.

Although you try to stifle your smile when you come home from work to find him and your daughter curled up next to him, equally invested in whatever cartoon is playing on the TV.

He most likely still gets annoyed that he has to be more cautious about when and where he fucks you. He'll hold you down against the mattress if you're too loud, pushing your face into the comforter to cover up your little moans.

"If you make any more noise, you'll wake the brat," he hisses into your ear, though, smirking when you barely contain a sob each time his cock slides deeper.

𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈 most likely doesn't know what to do. After all, he didn't exactly have the best role model growing up.

He doesn't know what four-year-olds are interested in and probably bores your kid to sleep whenever he starts talking about mundane adult topics. You call it a gift because your son never takes naps for you—but really, he knows you're only saying that to make him feel better.

His first win is when he takes your son to the beach, and after a long day, the little boy cuddles up in his lap on the couch with soft snores muffled against his shoulder.

Megumi looks up at you in shock, and you can't help the little giggle that escapes your lips at the cute picture they make.

However, he gets super embarrassed when your son nearly walks in on him railing you into the mattress, and he practically knocks you off the bed in his haste to cover up.

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 is definitely made to be a dad and adjusts pretty easily when you and your son move in with him.

He lets the little boy sit on his lap while drinking coffee and reading the paper in the morning. During the week, he picks him up and drops him off at daycare and packs lunches for the three of you.

You would have never expected the silent and very intimidating man to be so good with kids.

Your son also seems to be just as smitten with him that he often asks for Nanami when he thinks there are monsters in his closet—rubbing his wet eyes while standing near Nanami's side of the bed in his shark pajamas, sans one sock.

He lets the boy sleep between you most nights because he's usually too tired to get up. But on the nights when he tucks the boy back into his bed, you can't stop yourself from straddling his lap and pawing at his stiff cock through his boxers.

"Want you," you whine, freeing him from his underwear.

He grunts when you slide his heavy cock through your messy folds, and you whimper—teary-eyed.

"Dove, you're going to wake the baby." Though he hardly follows his own warning when he releases a feral groan as you slowly sink down until you feel like there's no more room in your swollen pussy for him to go.

His hands come up to dig into your hips, helping you grind back and forth. "My good girl," he mutters, watching your folds split around him. "You're gonna take the whole thing, aren't you?"

Then he thrusts up until the last inch is nestled in your tight, wet cunt.

Tagging. @weebaboobs @jordyn-degas @izukusfreckle @pulchritxde @sailorstrawberi @delirious-donna

𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐄𝐗

— Fushiguro Toji, Gojo Satoru, Ryomen Sukuna, Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru, Fushiguro Megumi, Yuji Itadori

cw. f!reader, size kink, soft sex, praise, oral, pussyjob, pet names, doggy, riding, use of ‘daddy’ (1 - geto)

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

“Come on, doll,” he coos lifting your hips upward and pulling you onto his cock, “let’s start this day off right.”

He tickles your ear as he nibbles on your lobe making you moan even before his tip rubs your wet folds.  His hand tightens around your throat as he slowly works his way into your pretty slit, “fuck … you’re so tight.”

Your eyes roll back and you clench your fingers around the headboard as Toji moves his hips against yours, “you feel so good, you’re gonna come on this big cock, aren’t you uhu?”

His shaft stretches and spreads your tight hole with every inch pushed in as you moan and whimper in response. He pokes your sweet spots grinding inside your sloppy walls.

“Fuck … give me more,” you sob when he is finally fully in, his base pressed against you and his balls grazing your clit.

You gasp when he grabs your hips and starts rocking back and forth, lewd sounds fill the room, “you want my cock? Then take it all, come on.”

Your eyes roll back and your back arches even further, the headboard slams against the wall as your ass bounces from the rough thrusts. His fat balls slap your puffy bud making you tremble in anticipation.

“Toji … fuck … cumming don’t stop”. His favorite words. He intertwines his fingers with yours pushing against your sweet spot, making you cream and gush over his fat girth.

You cum copiously, your hips slamming against his as you try to take even more of his cock, “shit, doll, take it all,” he hums, his throbbing cock covered in white as you fuck out your high.

Keep reading

Slurp It Like a Porn ☆

Pairings ♡ ྀ =͟͟͞♡: Assassin! Toji Fushiguro x Chubby Mob Leader! Reader

Encapsulation ♡ ྀ =͟͟͞♡: Having semi-passionate sex on a jet is to die for, especially with Toji. Call it the Soul plane.

Warnings ♡ ྀ =͟͟͞♡: Smut, Lipstick kink, oral( m receiving), sloppy top, teasing, impact play, vibrating tongue ring, dick piercing mentioned, dirty talking, squirting, slight sir kink, gore, Mentions of death( not any of the main peoples), mention of hyperpigmentation, Mobster lifestyle, gang mentions, violence, fucking in the sky( literally), nipple play, passionate fucking with a little roughness, Full Nelson position, degradation, praise, use of multiple pet names( butterfly, Angel, baby, doll, etc.), fucking in the mirror, breeding kink, Fem reader

Word Count ♡ ྀ =͟͟͞♡: 4.6K

18+ Permitted

Carrying your colorful/non colorful suitcases was the cherry on Toji’s day. He couldn’t wait to carry most of your bags while carrying only two of his. What utter bullshit that is because the man was struggling! You offered to help, but Toji never lets you carry bags you didn’t need to carry.

Meanwhile, on your behalf, the hot summer air was flowing over your face and honestly you couldn’t feel any better since you were going to your dream place with Toji, your boyfriend for 1 year. Toji couldn’t wait to take a vacation from every stress in his life. He hated leaving Megumi on his own with Nanami and Gojo watching over him. The boy is 17 now and it scares him that he’s growing up so fast.

Keep reading

pantalone and ( prime ) dottore pamper you

nsfw . mdni . (sub) female reader (afab, she/her usage)

cockwarming, size kink, slight infantilization, slight threesome, unspecified relationships, overstimulation, slight dacryphilia, slight humiliation, basically they’re dressing you up for a ball

i might write a signora + arlecchino x reader sandwich tomorrow. my demons just took over, here, PHEW 😮‍💨

“p-please… can’t sit still anymore…”

“sh, shhh my darling,” pantalone hushed against your tears. his voice was calm and gentle like the wind, even with his touch to match. he made you feel safe, as if peace could somehow envelope your body in this cold, dark palace.

“but you’re doing so good for us already,” dottore whispered from behind. as you sat on his lap, your back to his front, he landed two pats on your left thigh, making you jolt. the two men in the room didn’t even try hiding their light laughter at your little reactions.

such evil, they were—having you sit still on dottore’s lap with his hardened cock inside of you. he was too big for you. even his hand, which now squeezed at your thigh, was so large. his natural grip alone kept you pinned down and squirming on his lap.

his shaft was so warm, you could feel it pulsing against your own throbbing walls. and you were sure he could feel it—the way your insides squeezed him so nicely.

“i’m going to continue,” pantalone told you, planting the sweetest of kisses on your cheek. “okay, princess?”

he gave you a kind-looking smile when you nodded your tear-soaked head, before eventually progressing. the ninth harbinger then lowered himself to his knees, hands moving to gently grab at your ankle. he looped on the most delicate yet extravagant thigh garters you had ever seen up your leg—one that could be fitting for even her majesty herself.

and yet here he was, putting such an expensive jewelry on you.

“do you like it?” dottore hummed against your neck. “we thought it would be so fitting for a doll—though, pantalone is more of a stylist than i…”

“oh, you needn’t to flatter,” said pantalone quite passively. to gain better access, he suddenly lifted your leg upwards. your upper body pressed back into dottore’s chest as a result, pushing you down deeper on his cock.

you practically let out a cry at the penetration, and almost immediately at the sound, dottore’s rough hands planted themselves on your hips. his hands, oh archons, his hands. those rough fingers, though gloved, were pressed hard against your skin. they rubbed right at your pelvic bone, forcing you steady. they were so steady and controlling, sticking quite true to his surgical and scientific background.

his cock twitched inside of you, and you found yourself flinching still as pantalone secured the garter around your thigh.

“it’s pretty on her, isn’t it?”

“truly,” dottore agreed, his fingers moving down to lace through the fabric. you shivered—if he wanted to, he could rip it from one stretch of his hand alone.

pantalone contentedly sighed, “im glad. she’ll look so good at the ball tonight once we’re done with her.” he leaned in, playing a light, almost loving kiss at your puffy clit.

when he stood up, his hands moved to unbutton your top clothes, likely planning on changing your attire next. icy air bit at your bare skin so harshly, you felt like you’d freeze to death while these rich men stayed warm in their coats.

and yet as you shivered, both men couldn’t resist to put their hands all over your naked body. it was almost as if they were holding back all this time—pantalone’s sweet demeanor turning into one where his hands grabbed and twisted at your tits like you were their sex doll.

and perhaps, maybe they like dressing you up just for that.

gn guys 😨

/ not proofread

𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐔𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏; 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫₀︎₉︎

♘︎ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 + 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐬, 𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐭 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬, 𝐬𝐮𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐫 (𝐧𝐨 𝐫*𝐩𝐞/𝐬𝐚), 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞!𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐢 (𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐭)

♘︎ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐢'𝐬 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤.

♘ 𝐰𝐜: 𝟏.𝟕k

♘ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐱 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫; 𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐢 𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐚 (𝐨𝐜) 𝐱 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

♘︎ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: @desiray562 @gabzlovesu @emonaculate @po3ticb3auty @indiecursor @protectpancakes @hufflefluffwh0re

「︎ 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 + 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 + 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 」︎

IT WAS A PEACEFUL SILENCE AS Y/N WATCHED KENTO WEIGH AND PACKAGE. He worked on the top floor of the building Geto’s shop was in, preparing his incoming supply of green. Y/n was there, simply to mind his business and hers while she was there. Nanami preferred to work in silence, in par with his personality outside of selling drugs. When Y/n met him, prior to meeting Geto, almost a year ago, she was very surprised that the smartest man she’d known was a drug dealer.

“Shit.” He cursed, pulling Y/n’s attention from her phone as she looked at him with mild concern.

“What’s the problem, Chief?” She watched expectantly as Nanami pushed his glasses up and rubbed the bridge of his nose, something he did when irritated.

“That fucker, Hiroshima, gave me three grams less than what he said should be in here. Three!”

Anyone would be upset over not getting what they were supposed to get, but Hiroshima’s been in the game long enough to know the difference between 200g and 197g. Y/n watched as the usually calm salesman, angrily called Hiroshima to cuss him out. Now, for as long as she’s known the blond, he never came off as violent but she knew better than to assume that he couldn’t. Honestly, every last one of Geto’s friends could hold their own, against each other—and anyone else.

Speaking of Geto, Y/n’s phone vibrated at a continuous pace, removing her attention from Nanami’s fuming figure to the phone in her lap. Geto’s face had took up the screen with his phone number and Y/n answered.

“Hey, what are you doing later tonight?”

Y/n shrugged, remembering that Kenji said he’d be hanging out with friends. “Nothin’, why?”

The sound of the tattoo needle being used filtered through the phone speaker and into Y/n’s ears. So, he was with a client then.

“Shoko and Choso conjured up a hangout for tonight. Celebrate the break and shit, I told ‘em I’d let you know about it. And to let Nanami know.”

At the mention of Nanami, Y/n looked over at him, still cussing Hiroshima out. “Yeah, i’m down. Nanami might be late though.”

“Why?”

“Hiroshima screwed him over.” She explained simply, tugging at the end of the hoodie she stole from Kenji.

Geto took in a deep breath, possibly surprised that Hiroshima would even try something like that with Nanami. ‘Shima may be the supplier, but Nanami’s not one to fuck with. Especially when it came to business.

“Shit. That’s fucked up.”

Y/n hummed in response, listening to the needle puncture someone’s skin with a low buzz. She missed it. “That dude fuckin you right?”

“Boy, bye!”

KENJI NAKAMURA WATCHED HIS girlfriend get ready with heated eyes. She had came over to finish getting dressed and to collect whatever she had left before the break started. Kenji mistakenly thought, that maybe she came over to see him. To spend time with him, before he left. But at the mere mention of Geto, it left a sour taste in Kenji’s mouth and he did not like that. Y/n hadn’t mentioned Geto out loud, nor even directly. Kenji just knew, and assumed, that if she says she’s hanging out with the gang, then he’s there too.

“Babe, why do you look like that? And, aren’t you supposed to be with your boys?” Y/n asked, moving around the room swiftly, not even bothering to look at him as she spoke.

Kenji flexed his jaw in anger and took a deep breath in and then out. Is she that oblivious to how he was feeling? Why he canceled on his friends the minute she told him about her hanging out with them?

Geto and them.

After all these years, Kenji still held a grudge on the man who stole his girlfriend from him and made a big deal about it. Yuri was beautiful and way out of Kenji’s league at the time. He knew it, she knew it, everyone at their school knew it. But she chose him and that pissed Geto off.

The young teen spent most of his junior year in high school, trying to keep his girlfriend away from Geto and his friends. Until Yuri went to a party of Gojo’s, Kenji stuck at home with the flu, and slept with the popular senior who had been desperate to get his teeth into her.

A childish grudge, but the torment Kenji went through in the aftermath of the situation justified everything he was about to do and had done, and this was just the icing on the cake.

“Shota had an engineering project to do last minute and Akira was having girl trouble.” Kenji spoke cooly, eyes still trained on Y/n’s busy figure.

The dark skin girl wore bootcut jeans and a cropped baseball tee. A pair of low Air Jordan’s 1’s were on her feet and a baseball cap on top of her twisted hair. She grabbed the oversized, faux fur coat and put it on before grabbing her bag and phone. “Damn, sure you don’t wanna come?” Y/n asked, checking her outfit out in the floor length mirror behind his door.

“Nah. You go have fun.” He turned back in his desk chair to open his laptop, video editing app opened already displaying his latest project.

Without another glance, Y/n gave Kenji a half hearted goodbye and was out of his shared apartment with a quickness. Part of Kenji wanted to feel bad for what he was about to do. Y/n truly hadn’t done anything wrong, but old habits die hard and Kenji needed to hurt Geto the best way he knew how.

Even if it meant Y/n being collateral.

"PLEASE RYO! NOBARA SWEARS to stop clowning Gojo about his feet." Geto could hear the youngest of the three siblings, persuade his older brother to let them come tonight.

A deep chuckle escaped the tattoo artist at Sukuna's deadpan "No" followed with a growl from Kugisaki in return. Geto was currently finishing up a client; female and petite, her friend accompanying her to, what Geto discovered, her first tattoo. They seemed around the kids' age, no older than nineteen.

Mio, his client, had came in timid and all. Y/n had booked this appointment on one of the days she was filling in for Yuji as receptionist. She wanted a simple wrist tattoo of her birth flower, an easy feat for the experienced artist. Mio's friend, Kei, had came in with her and had been covered in ink herself, but not as much as he was.

They were an easy duo to speak to, Kei having a blunt attitude and dry humor that reminded him of Nanami and Mio holding a similar personality to Choso. He thought about introducing them to the kids. Deeming them a fit for the trio. Wiping away excess ink and bits of blood, Geto tapped the inside of Mio's arm.

"All done sweetheart. Take a look." Snapping off his gloves, he handed the girl the black hand-held mirror and watched her take in the new addition to her skin.

Kei stood and eyed the art carefully, her face changing into one of contentment. "Not too bad. Guess you aren't just a pretty face after all." She smirked whilst Mio let out a gasp.

Geto laughed, grabbing the mirror and putting on a fresh pair of gloves to wrap up Mio's tattoo. "Kei!" The girl scolded, using her free hand to swat at her rough mouthed friend.

"You're funny kid. Since I like you, i'm going to let that slide and introduce you to some kids I know."

Mio handed Geto the money after he finished wrapping her and the three left his room to find Fushiguro, Kugisaki, and Itadori behind the counter and on the computer, Sukuna behind them restocking jewelry in the display case. At Geto's presence, the three kids turned to them, eyeing the two girls behind him.

"Hey." Fushiguro spoke lowly, returning his attention to the Switch in his hands.

"What did ya get?" Nobara asked, nodding her head in Mio's direction.

A small blush decorated Mio's cheeks at being addressed. "Uh, three violet's to symbolize my birth month." She explained, bringing her wrist up to show the location of the tat.

"Mio and Kei go to school with us and they are your year. How about you guys get to know each other and go to the sushi bar down the street. I'll give you money for it." Geto suggested, heading to the front door to flip the 'Open' sign to 'Closed' and draw the curtains on the window.

Yuji pushed out from the rolling chair and hopped over the counter with a smile. "Free food and new friends? Hell yeah!"

Geto smiled and went to speak when he caught the girls' walking down the sidewalk to his shop. All of the women he knew were gorgeous, but they had nothing on Y/n. Even when she dressed so comfortably, she still looked amazing.

"Sure, i'm down for some sushi." Mio remarked shyly, to which Megumi grunted in response and Nobara nodded.

Kei scoffed, arms folded as she side eyed Geto. "I better not end up dead."

Sukuna laughed at that, getting up and closing the display case. "Kid, if we wanted you dead, you would be. Now, all of you, get out of the shop."

He sure did have a way with words.

Just as the five teens walked over to Geto to collect the money, Utahime had pulled on the door and was the first to enter, followed by Shoko, Mei Mei, Wendy, and Y/n. "Are you bribing children, Geto?"

He didn't miss the smirk in Mei Mei's voice as she walked past him. Geto rolled his eyes "That's your specialty, remember?"

"Jesus guys, we just got here. Save it for later." Wendy pleaded, thumping the back of Geto's head as she passed him and went to the kids to say hi.

"Want us to bring you back anything?" Nobara asked Geto, the rest of them heading outside to go eat.

Geto shook his head and joined his friends in waving the teens goodbye. Locking up the shop, him and Sukuna made sure everything was secure downstairs before heading up behind the girls. The fighter sent Geto a cocky smile as he pushed open the door to their place.

"What, bro?" He was annoyed before he even heard what Sukuna had to say.

"Y/n?" Sukuna asked hopefully.

Geto waved him off, a sinking feeling in his gut as he said the words he hated to say. "Nah man. Just friends."

Sukuna snorted and laughed. "Doubt it." Was what he said whilst entering their shared space.

Me too, Sukuna. Me too.

taglist: @solarisxu @kennyackermanswhore @chaoticevilbakugo @indiecursor@gabzlovesu @desiray562 @brownmochii@knjkitten@sweeneyblue1@namjoonswifeyy @nyxeclipse @rubinocore @uniquelybeautiful @somerandompipzsxh @dabilovesme @histarean @hannas16@caribbeanwifey19@emonaculate @po3ticb3auty @hufflefluffwh0re @waka-umm

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. damn. . . not me taking decades to write this.

YOU HAVE (1) NEW REQUEST FROM @GOJO SATORU . . .

WANNA PLAY SEVEN MINUTES IN HEAVEN?

➤ seven minutes in heaven series masterlist.

NEW MESSAGE @WARNINGS : f. reader, college!au, frat party / exhibitonism, teasing, kind of academic rivals / enemies to lovers, seven minutes in heaven scenarios that are def longer than seven mins, alcohol mention, dirty talk, creampie, fingering / pussy eating.

(1) ATTACHMENT @WC : est. 5.2k

NEW MESSAGE FROM EMMIE @GAROUJO : hewo this is the first fic from the seven minutes in heaven series, hopefully you guys enjoy ‘n feedback is v much appreciated since this is the longest thing i’ve ever written — pls enjoy ><

cocky, confident, insufferable, aggravating… (unfortunately) handsome, these were a few words that came to mind when you thought about gojo satoru.

he’d been in your class since you’d started here — unfortunately at the desk that was straight infront of yours and you say it’s unfortunate because as it happens, you both have never gotten along.

he was a smart ass and a know it all, and you don’t know what you did in a past life to deserve his teasing but it had gotten to the point where you seemed to be his only means of entertainment, having to hold back a gag at how sickly sweet he is to everyone else.

but every single thing you did, satoru had to do better—beat your tests scores, offer to help teachers before they asked you (suck up), deliberately asking you difficult questions he knows you’re gonna struggle to answer in presentations, just so he can see you trip up a few times.

he’d lean back only to scribble on your notes when he’s done taking his own—after trying and failing to use your hand as a sketch book first, steals some of your snacks or lunch with a wink and a honeyed, irritable comment about how “sweets are good for stimulating the brain.” he was so annoyi—

“hey! you still here with me?” suguru shouts, raising an eyebrow at your spaced out form as he waves his hand over your eyes—snapping you out of your daydream to bring you plummeting back to where you’re stood right now, at your rival’s frat party.

“sorry, spaced out.” you hum in response, trying and failing to pretend that you hadn’t just completely zoned out whilst unfortunately staring at the gojo satoru you’d just been mentally cursing.

the same guy who’d also noticed you staring a while ago and is now shooting you one of his annoyingly, handsome smirks before he’s turning and deliberately throwing an arm over the girl opposite him, the same one who doesn’t hesitate to lean into his chest because not only was he annoying but he was also irritably popular, especially with girls—

—not that you care, you want to roll your eyes, flip him the bird but you know that’s what he wants, so you turn your eyes back to your bestfriend as he takes his place beside you instead before you feel suguru nudge at your shoulder.

but if you were to meet satoru’s gaze once more, you’d see that it had quickly found its way back to you, and there’s a ghost of a frown on his features this time instead of his usual cocky look.

“you feeling okay? don’t look like you’re having a good time.” the dark haired male hums, leaning forward to meet your gaze from where it’s drifted away from him and you know you can’t hide your irritation, he always knew—but as wound up as you were, there was always a drop in your guard around your bestfriend.

“sorry, yeah i’m fine.. just bored i guess—“ you eventually reply, and you hear suguru click his tongue before he’s grinning good-naturedly down at you and pushing himself off of the counter, rounding your figure until he’s standing opposite you.

“yeah, i’m sure bored is how you’re feeling—do you forget i’ve known you forever, i can read your mind at this point.” your bestfriend laughs, shooting you a humoured grin before he’s tilting his head towards the living room and urging you to follow him.

“come on, you’re bored right? atleast make an effort to have some fun.” you can’t help but scoff in amusement at suguru’s playful words but you still find yourself following him, allowing the warm air from the bustling frat party to roll over your shoulders.

you pass between beer pong tables and other drunken students, classmates and people you’ve never even seen before alike, even find yourself passing by satoru and his group of friends—or fans you guess you could call them. but you never take your eyes off of your best friends back, almost certainly feeling a white-haired male’s shameless gaze burn into you until you’re out of view.

you don’t know why you’re struck with a sudden wave of anticipation and nerves as you finally stroll into the living room, almost colliding with suguru when he stops abruptly, his lips pulling into a grin before he’s laughing at the confused look on your face.

you know what this is, a single empty beer bottle in the middle of the floor and classmates dotted around different areas of the room, most already giddily drunk while they’re giggling and gossiping at every victim the bottle chooses before they’re whisked away into what could potentially be your own personal hell.

“trust me, just sit.” suguru grunts, his eyes on you again before he’s dropping onto the couch and pulling you down with him until you’re not very gracefully falling into the cushions, and he’s drawling out a “we’re in” that’s immediately followed by obnoxious whistles and whispers from the other students in the room.

you open your mouth to protest—not that you even know what you’d say—but before you can you’re instantly cut off by another “make that three.” followed by a sudden weight on the other side of the couch when you feel the cushions dip, right next to you.

you know that voice—that honeyed tone and the starry eyed glances and jealous looks that are suddenly being sent your way, not towards you, no—but towards none other than gojo satoru from where he’s sat next to you, deliberately knocking his thigh against yours with how obnoxiously he’s manspreading and leaning back with a knowing grin.

you want to ignore satoru, deciding to choose peace when you cross your arms over your chest and turn your attention back to the bottle in the middle of the room—you want to, but ofcourse he has other plans when you feel him lean towards you, his chest pressing against your side.

“lucky for you, there’s not a way for me to win this one. wouldn’t want to see you cryin’ again…” satoru drawls, feigning disappointment even though his words are still smooth but you can basically hear the grin on his lips, immediately turning to him with nothing short of a scowl before you’re leaning away.

“hey, it’s your turn.“ suguru grunts from his place beside you and you can’t help but roll your eyes, not even at him, but because you can already feel your blood beginning to boil, so you’re hissing out a “spin for me, sugu.” and turning your venomous gaze back to the person who actually deserves it while your bestfriend shrugs and does as you ask.

“i wasn’t crying because you got a higher score, gojo. don’t give yourself so much credit.” you reply sharply, a mocking amount of sweetness in your voice and you’re pretty sure you notice the sides of satoru’s lips twitch in amusement at your reaction before he hums.

“oh? thought you looked so pretty when you cried too.” satoru sighs out—teasing, tilting his head back to look over your face from behind his round glasses and the grin on his lips is almost pleased in a way that has you wanting to scream, like he’s taunting you but unfortunately for you mostly, you’ve never been one for backing down from him.

you tilt your body towards him, muscles tensed and you’re sure there’s a deep, less than flattering frown on your face that immediately shows just how much he gets to you when you bring a finger up to point at the irritatingly pretty male opposite you.

“you know what, gojo! i really—“ you begin, but your sharp sentence is immediately cut off by an obnoxiously loud round of hollers and hoots as you freeze, eyes wide just as you’re about to push your index finger into satoru’s chest and the shit eating grin on his face seems to stretch even wider, his own amusement shining through when he narrows his eyes at you, tipping his head towards the bottle on the floor that’s so obviously pointing straight at him.

“well would you look at that. looks like you can win this. come on, you don’t need to try contain your excitement.” satoru grunts, tilting his head as his large palm suddenly wraps around your wrist and pull you up from the couch along with him.

you want to kick and scream, preferably at him but you’re still in shock—this was your own personal hell, and that’s only confirmed when you turn to get some—any assistance from suguru and he’s only raising his hands and sending you a sympathetic look that says you told me to spin for you.

you feel like the rooms spinning, your skin feels like it’s burning underneath satoru’s palm but his hold is still gentle enough where you could break free if you really wanted, but maybe this would work in your favour—a quiet closet with your academic rival and at this point, probable nemesis where you can really give him a piece of your mind? yep, this was gonna go horribly.

satoru’s laughing as he starts to almost impatiently pull you along, shooting playful looks towards the students that seem to be lining the way towards your dreaded destination. until you’re both standing in front of some dingy frat closet that you’re pretty sure hasn’t seen a vacuum or a mop in months, years even.

“you scared?” the white-haired male teases and it’s his words that immediately snap you out of your haze, the same words that have you huffing before they’re reigniting the blaze in your veins and you’re basically pushing him into this stupid, dark closet with a grumble about how absolutely done with his shit you are.

“7 minutes!” you hear someone call from the other end of the door before silence falls in the darkened closet, it’s bigger than you’d expected but not huge—there’s space for you to stand opposite satoru but not enough, he’s still long, 6’3 in stature and imposing, you almost sway from where you look up at him and he’s taking up so much space that you’re almost sitting on the counter top behind you (that’s probably supposed to be full of cleaning supplies) to keep some distance between you both.

“didn’t know you were so eager to get me in here, sweetheart.” satoru drawls and you’re irritation feels like it returns in waves, pinching between your brows before you take a few deep breathes. but when you catch the smallest glance of his stupidly, handsome grin you can’t help but feel the last thread of your sanity snap.

“would you just shut up, gojo? just be quiet.” you bite, sighing (probably a little dramatically) before you lean back—eyes narrowing at the old lightbulb on the ceiling that’s just barely giving you any light, while satoru raises his hands in faux surrender opposite you and whistles at your sharp comment.

“i hear you.” he replies but the tone of his voice still has you grumbling before you keep the silence between you both for what feels like an eternity, eventually letting your emotions run riot on your tongue once more, and you don’t know if it’s because you feel suddenly nervous, or because you can still see him sway impatiently across from you before he’s whistling obnoxiously.

“you’re so annoying, you know that?” you grumble, almost timidly and it makes you want to smack yourself but instead you choose to scowl at the white haired male, watching him push himself up from the wall opposite you. “did you ask me to be quiet just so you could make fun of me? so rude.” satoru replies, his tone almost playful and you don’t miss the way his eyes sweep over you briefly before you scoff.

“aww, expect me to kiss your ass instead?” you return, an equal amount of mocking sympathy in your tone and the comment actually pulls a more genuine sounding laugh from the man, a sound that has you straightening up in a way that seems foreign around him.

“oh, is that an offer? i don’t tease you because i hate you, you know.” satoru breathes again and you feel yourself shuffle at the suddenly heavy atmosphere in the closet. his tone shifts at the end of his sentence this time, it’s low and his words are languid and it makes you hesitate before you speak again.

“then what the hell is it?” you ask, curiosity thick in your words and you can’t hide the way your frown softens.

“nuh ugh, not so fast. think you can lock me in a closet with a pretty girl and i’ll spill my guts? you gotta earn that.” satoru goads, and you think you deserve another smack when you feel a smile twitch on your lips at his words, but you expertly hide it behind a passive expression on your face.

“think you can lock me in a closet with you and i’ll fall in love when you call me pretty?” you sigh, shooting him a humoured grin before he’s shrugging his shoulders and looking at you over his glasses again.

“why? you tempted, princess?” satoru drawls, he’s clearly checking you out—blatantly, making no effort to hide the way his tongue peeks out to roll along his lower lip before he’s stepping closer with heat in his eyes.

you feel yourself shudder with anticipation with each step he takes and you suddenly feel like you could drown in the crystalline, blue tones of his gaze but you can’t help but feel suddenly self conscious as he drinks you up—not that you’d ever let him know that.

“you wish, gojo.” you squeak, but your tone wavers and you know satoru hears it before he’s humming to acknowledge the sudden shift in your demeanour.

“yeah? that obvious?” he sounds so honest, and it makes your heart flutter and your stomach flip—your throat bobs in a swallow and you wish you could say it was bile, but you know it’s not when your brow arches at his words, like you’re deciding if he’s still teasing you or not, and he knows he has you when you bite on your bottom lip.

“wh.. what?”

but still surprisingly, it’s slow when satoru reaches for you—like he’s giving you the opportunity to stop him before his hand is sliding along your back and hooking around your waist to pull your body against his chest. it’s a strong pull, but not disorientating, yet you still feel your skin burn hot where his long fingers are pressing through the thin fabric of your dress, and it feels like it moulds even closer to the shape of your figure—almost like there’s nothing between his palm and your skin.

you scoff his name, resting your palm against his chest and he gives you a few moments, an opportunity to push him away—to yell at him or cuss him out but you don’t, so he shoots you a softer, tilted grin, before he’s leaning closer and brushing his lips against yours.

“hmm, don’t believe me? i can prove it.” satoru hums, allowing his lips to ghost over yours from where his finger is suddenly hooking under your chin and tilting you towards him, like he’s tempting you with the forbidden fruit but as much as desire is burning in your stomach, he’s still annoying.

“you’re such an asshole, goj—“ you gasp when he finally kisses you, cutting off your sentence before it replaced with a breathless exhale and he takes the opportunity to dip his tongue past your lips, allowing it to glide along your own.

he tastes like spearmint and strawberry soda and it reminds you that he’d mentioned he wasn’t a drinker—which means the way satoru’s holding you, touching you, kissing you—is being done with a completely clear mind and suddenly you feel something ignite in your veins before you’re pulling him closer.

you feel a coiling pleasure that’s been building between the teasing jabs and playful rivalry tighten delightfully, his hand squeezing your waist only making it burn brighter.

you whimper against his lips and the sound drives satoru closer, practically pinning you against the small countertop behind you both until it’s squeezing against the back of your thighs.

“hmm, so cute.” satoru groans and the deep drone of his voice curls down your spine, you can’t pull yourself away from him—not that he’s helping, with the way his strong grip keeps you in your place against his chest, his large palms exploring the topography of your hips, down your waist and up your thighs from where he’s pinning you onto the surface beneath you.

“satoru.. just fuck me.” you plead against his mouth, a honeyed edge to your voice that you hope will sway him—something you’d never thought you’d say while you breathe heavy with him, and satoru feels sticky at the words, his first name, spoken against his lips. he feels his cock twitch and thicken behind his pants and his thumb squeezes into your skin before he’s licking into your mouth; burying soft groans into your skin like they’re secrets and he’s losing himself in the dizzy spin of the room.

“yeah? fuck, gotta be quick then.. don’t think i’ll hold back on you.” he grunts and the kiss breaks wet as he stands, taps on the back of your thighs to help hoist you up onto the counter top before you jump eagerly and he’s slotting himself between them.

your fingers tangle in his hair once more and satoru can’t help but continue kissing you, the hem of your dress slinking up with his wrists, slender digits squeezing at the fat and muscle it reveals as his hands stroke up your thighs, pushing your dress up until you’re legs spread around him and his fingers are trailing closer to where he needs to be most.

it happens so fast when you feel satoru push your panties to the side messily and the first swipe of his finger between your folds is purposeful, but rushed, dragging the rough pad of his finger beneath the hood of your clit as he rolls the sensitive bud and you twitch, grabbing onto the fabric of his shirt before the wet disconnect of his lips from yours has you whimpering softly.

“those sure are some pretty sounds, all for me? aren’t you a sweet thing.“ he hums before he’s deliberately pressing down onto your puffy clit harder, eagerly, like he knows you were gonna snap back at him as he spreads you wider. he keeps up the same pace and pressure until you’re wet enough for him to push two fingers inside, groaning when he’s not met with much resistance.

his fingers are long, long and thick enough for you to hiss at the stretch but you feel something blissful flutter in your tummy when you watch him fall onto his knees between your thighs clumsily. he shifts one over his shoulder as he keeps you spread, ready and accessible for him while he gazes up at you from under long lashes.

“look at you, princess. so pretty for me.” satoru groans, his tone still playful despite the trembling undercurrent and he smirks when he angles his fingers inside of you up with angled purpose, like he wants to map out and memorise what makes you keen, brushing them against the spongy spot inside of you until you’re slapping your palm over your pouty lips in a sorry attempt to muffle how needy you sound.

his warm breath rolls over your slick folds, his crystalline eyes transfixed and shining on where his digits sink into you, until his head lowers and his tongue is curling against your clit before he’s dragging it back up.

it’s languid the way he pumps his fingers in and out of your wet heat, complimenting it with kitten licks like he’s tasting a dessert for the first time except you’re so much sweeter. you’d be embarrassed if the music on the other side of the door wasn’t so loud—the deep bass doing wonders for covering up the lewd squelching sounds accompanied with his slurps and smacks that are currently echoing around the darkened closet.

satoru continues to sink his fingers into you, swirling tantalising circles into your clit with his tongue while his fingers drag more slick out, making a sloppy mess between your thighs as he laps it back up and buries his face into you with a loud swallow—every noise so much messier and lewd while your hands grab and curl in the snowy peaks of his hair and he hums in amused approval.

he licks into your pussy with a hunger that’s so uniquely him and you almost choke on a babbled cry of his name as you tremble, feeling him flatten his tongue against your sensitive bud before he’s sucking it gently between his lips and pulling away with an exaggerated pop that has butterflies pooling in your stomach.

your pussy throbs around his digits and he breathes a warm sigh across your skin, your eyes clenching tight as your thighs quiver against the width of his shoulders and your head drops back as his bright gaze cuts up into you. feeling him drag his tongue in slow, thorough swirls over your clit as your hips rock side to side.

“gonna be the fucking death of me.” satoru tells you, crooking a smile against your folds but it’s a confession mostly to himself as he works you with practiced precision, watches your hips twist under his touch before his body leaves you suddenly and he pulls away to break through the suddenly suffocating layers of his clothes.

“what happened to that smart mouth i like so much? don’t worry, sweet girl. ill make sure the only thought in that pretty little head is me.”

a ragged sound that’s supposed to be an insult leaves you at his words and suddenly you feel drowsy and pliant as he quickly reveals the soft planes of ivory skin, shoving his slacks down just enough for his cock to spring out and smear precum along the skin of your thighs.

he is gorgeous, moonlight hair messy where it falls over his face, his hand sweeping it back before he’s stepping forward and shooting you a tilted grin, that’s still a little cocky and you suddenly feel like you can’t get enough air with each breath.

“wish i could’ve stretched you more, pretty. but we’re running low on time here.” satoru sighs with a growing smile, hissing when he feels your fingers wrap around the base of his cock like a wordless reply—a plea, almost begging for him to finally fuck you and who is he to deny you of that.

“hurry up—i need you, satoru.” you manage and you feel him grab you in a strong grip before he’s wrapping your thighs around his hips, but any other words are choked upon when the fat head of his cock finally finds your flexing cunt.

you gasp and satoru groans as he sinks carefully up inside you, his hands squeezing and pulling your hips closer to his as your back arches. his cock feels like it sinks into you forever, he was long and thick, curved upwards and warm and it glides so sweetly past the spots inside of you that make your whole body twitch, your pussy tightening harder around him the deeper he goes.

his fingers grope just a little too hard at your hip, dragging you along his cock as he forces your walls to spread open for him and he feels something ache deep in his stomach, desire heavy in each laboured breath he takes as he tries to keep a firm grip on his composure.

“so tight, princess… you’re already doing so good for me.” he groans, voice low and you can only reply with a sound that’s high pitched and needy when the weight of his hips finally rest against yours and he bottoms out.

it almost hurts how deep satoru reaches, but he’s warm and it lights a fuse that fizzles into something that feels even better, and he feels his toes and fingers curl when you bear down on him eagerly.

he finally pulls his hips back, dragging his cock out of you and your pussy squeezes down tight on him in response, like it’s trying to lure him back inside, tightening around each inch you lose as his fingers dig bruises into your hips and he rolls them back into you, beginning a steady pace with another slow withdrawal.

a whimper leaves you when you feel satoru’s head dip towards yours, his body leaning over you to smear a few kisses along your jawline, working your hips to meet the encouraging pull of his huge hands from where they’re messaging your hips.

the pace he’s sent isn’t fast, but the force behind each thrust is—his huge stature making your body clap against his as he kisses over your skin, teeth nipping at your neck playfully before his lips are gliding along the sensitive spots that have you twitching.

“sensitive, aren’t you? and feel so fucking good. you’ve been keeping this pussy from me for so, long, sweetheart.” satoru goads, emphasising his words with a few sharp thrusts, before his pace inevitably speeds up when he hears you grumble under your breath and he groans again, gripping so tight into your skin that he’ll surely leave bruises.

“s-satoru, you asshole—“ you finally manage to respond, whispery and choked off, but you can’t deny the physical reaction you have to his words, your tight cunt baring down tight around him and you both gasp before his breaks off into a laugh, his pace stuttering as he curses roughly, follows it with a few teasing thrusts.

“huh? what was that? harder? aren’t you greedy?”

and he gives more to you. has given more to you than he has to anyone else, and you bask in it and give back all that you can as he buries his nose into the crook of your neck. he inhales the sweet familiar scent of your perfume that’s now mixed with his cologne and he feels something carnal boil in his stomach.

satoru repositions his feet and takes up a pace that’s a little faster, rougher, pounding into you mercilessly as he marks your skin as his—leaving blooming marks between soft kisses along your neck and jawline and a groan kicks out of his chest when the harsh slap of his hips makes your thighs tighten around him, and you feel your own hips tremble along with your lungs.

“fuck—sound so pretty f’ me, wanna keep you all to myself, my pretty girl. now don’t hold out on me, y-yeah?” satoru tells you, his praise dripping through your rocking body and down your spine and it feels like he ignites something in you. he makes your insides curl and ache as your lips drop open to moan his name and his own ragged breathing cools the spit over your ignited nerves.

your nails dig into satoru’s forearms, pressing as you arch your back against his chest, “g-gonna cum—“ you gasp, lips parting in a pretty o-shape as pleasured tears gather at the corners of your thick lashes, and he pulls away to allow his gaze to jump from your creaming pussy to you, and he feels like the breath is punched from his lungs at how pretty you look lost in the pleasure he’s giving you.

“yeah? let me feel you, princess…need all of you, fuck! give it to me.” he smirks, scratchy and growly, letting his fingers trace along your sweat slicken skin to roll your puffy clit as he continues to pound against the right spot inside of you, lighting sparks through your body and your nerves feel like they’re singing under his touch.

you’re more than eager to give into him after a few more clapping thrusts, arching your back as you whine long and wordless for him. the hot rush of bliss and warmth settling over your skin when you cum, the fluttering press of your pussy throwing you into an orgasm so intense you see white behind your eyes.

“f-fuck—fuck, look at you, pretty girl. that’s it.” satoru grunts, his cock flexing and it doesn’t take him long before he’s giving in to the needy coax of your cunt and spilling thick and hot inside of you. a low whine rumbling low in his throat as his body curls over yours with a sharp groan—pinning you to the cool surface beneath you.

you feel like the moments after stretch on forever, the room now filled with nothing more than you’re ragged pants as you both try to catch breath, his bigger body blanketing yours until you’re groaning and pushing him off gently—but the gesture pulls a chuckle from the tall man over you that’s still a little breathless due to the lack of air in his lungs.

“satoru, you’re heavy!” you huff, lips curling into a smile when you hear him groan and pull back to frown at you, cheeks plumped as he feigns a pout but you can still see the way his smirk is trying to break through.

“hmm, you didn’t mind it a minute ago.” satoru purrs, usual teasing lilt returning to his words before he’s leaning forward to peck you once on the lips with a grin and tucking his softening cock back into his pants.

“you forget we’re still in a closet.” you scoff and you watch his eyes narrow at you before he’s smoothing his large hands down your dress—helping you make yourself look a little more disheveled before his fingers are hooking under your chin for the second time that night.

“you act like that’s gonna stop me, pretty—“ satoru hums but just as he goes to lean in for a kiss you hear a few sharp knocks against the door of the closet, the sudden noise making you jump away from the snowy haired male, making him chuckle before he’s throwing an arm around your waist and pulling you back into him.

“times up, get out.” you hear a gruff voice call and despite the still heavy pound of the bass, you know it’s suguru and you feel your body burn hot when the reality sets in on what you’ve just done—where you’ve just done it, and with who.

but satoru doesn’t look or even seem phased, watching him lean back to sigh before he’s pulling you closer into his side, fingers tightening in your skin like a silent reassurance as his gaze falls back on you.

“aw we gotta leave so soon? try not to look so disappointed.” he goads, but his tone seems lighter when he smiles at you, but you still can’t suppress the playful roll of your eyes because despite the way he’s just given you a taste of heaven, he was still the same irritatingly, (handsome) satoru.

“what do you mean so soon? it ended a while ago so you owe me satoru. get out here and quit hogging the closet!” suguru calls again, clicking his tongue and you feel satoru’s hair tickle the places he’d marked on your skin earlier when he melts into you with a carefree “whoops”, smearing messy, wet kisses against your shoulder before his long limbs are hanging over your body.

“so, you gonna admit you’ve fallen in love with me yet, pretty girl.. or do you need more convincing?”

© 2022 garoujo. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

(i) things about HOT NEIGHBOUR ! GETO SUGURU

pairing : (very) hot neighbour ! suguru x fem ! reader

warnings : non-sorcerer au, suggestive, pervert suguru (as expected), ulterior motives, accidental flashing, shy reader (because suguru's that fucking hot), suguru the ultimate tease, important note in the end !! also i had too much fun writing this it's a sin

note : my requests are open ! feel free to send some in my ask box

suggestive content under the cut, minors dni

reblogs and comments are appreciated ୨♡୧

HOT NEIGHBOUR ! GETO SUGURU just moved into the apartment beside yours. you just happen to stumble upon him when he's getting his last boxes in, and you felt rude to have stared at him the way you did. you were not-so-subtly checking him out, as a tight navy shirt hugged his undeniably built upper body to contrast the loose black pants, and strands of jet black hair just effortlessly falling out of his bun. you were even more embarrassed when he offered you his hand with a smile, saying "hi, i'm geto suguru. your new neighbour, i believe?", while all you could spout back were stuttered words.

HOT NEIGHBOUR ! GETO SUGURU can't forget about you. he especially can't forget about the way you looked at him. and, it wasn't like many people haven't obviously gawked at him, but he especially liked it when he saw how nervous you got just at the sight of him. "she's cute.", he speaks to himself, going into his nap thinking of you.

HOT NEIGHBOUR ! GETO SUGURU meets you again when you're going up the stairs, as he's going down. you tell him that the elevator would be out of service for a while, even though he didn't even ask, but he appreciates it nonetheless. especially since you said it without even gathering the courage to meet his eyes. his "thank you" catches you off guard, since he ever so briefly placed his much bigger hand on yours, before walking down.

HOT NEIGHBOUR ! GETO SUGURU is also not bothered at all by the fact the elevator is working. while his friends say it's "unlucky" that the elevator broke down since he just moved in, he says it isn’t. he doesn't tell them why, but it's his absolute luck that he often meets you on the stairs, especially when he's going down. why? he feels he's been blessed by the gods that you wear short skirts so often. he gets such a wonderful view as he strides downstairs, while you cluelessly and timidly take steps upwards. he wonders if you've always worn skirts often or if it's because he moved in.

HOT NEIGHBOUR ! GETO SUGURU is surprised when you knock on his door, asking him to help with a light bulb change in your living room since you "can't find your ladder". of course, he comes in to "help you" with changing the light bulb as an excuse to check out how many places he can bend you over. you also asked him oh-so-nicely as you gave him the privilege to hear you say his name when you asked "g-geto, do you mind helping me with something? please?"

HOT NEIGHBOUR ! GETO SUGURU smiles when you offer him something to drink, since he graciously helped you with the bulb. he leans against the kitchen counter while he watches you pour out juice into a glass, only to suddenly walk towards you. you tense up when you hardly feel his wide body against your back, watching as his hand takes the filled glass and he (rhetorically) asks "this for me?". while he chuckles, unfazed by your slow nod, you're still too flustered when he moves away from behind you and stands beside you.

HOT NEIGHBOUR ! GETO SUGURU sees you the next day, both of you just coming home from work. he asks you how work was, how your day was, any troubles ... and you answer every question, but your eyes are glued to your door knob. at first, you don't see suguru smirk, but you're soon sucking in a breath when the man suddenly approached you, similarly to how he did yesterday, and uses his pointer finger to move your chin to face him. your head tilts upwards, since he's tall, and you could see his sly expression crystal clear as he says "it's impolite not to look at people when they're asking about you, y/n."

note : should .. i make this a fic?? like .. of when reader and geto get together? because the concept of getting fucked by neighbour ! suguru is too good to resist.. please say so either through the post replies/reblogs, or in my ask box !! thank you :D

“ she said she was struggling with her anatomy homework, so i offered to help! ”

໒꒰ྀི∗ɞ̴̶̷ ·̮ ɞ̴̶̷∗꒱ྀིა .*･｡ﾟ⌒ medical student!suguru geto x f!reader / nsfw — mdni / pillow humping / oral (m -> f) + fingering + snowballing / praise + petnames / raw sex / slight breeding + creampie / dacryphilia / dedicated 2 ma resident sugu luvrs @atsumeii @getosbunny @shadowsorceress / 1.6k wc ♱ masterlist.

med student!suguru, who you'd met in ANAT 2LL3— your human anatomy course— and garnered feelings for almost instantly. with his long black hair often kept up in a bun, pretty eyes that turned crescent-mooned whenever he flashed you that infectious smile of his, and a deep laugh that had your heart beating in your abdomen, it was hard not to. as shameful as it made you feel— it was especially hard not to grind your bare cunny down against your pillow at the thought of his soft pink lips on your clit and his silver-clad fingers knuckles deep inside your walls, the baritone rumbling of his voice playing in your mind on loop distracting you from your studies and keeping you up far too late at night.

med student!suguru, who took quite a liking to you too— to the shy smiles you’d send him whenever he caught your gaze, to the slight peek of your tongue pushing past your lips as you'd furiously scribble down notes in lecture, to the coquettish lilt in your voice whenever you’d greet him by that cute nickname you gave him—but it’s the way you meekly tug on his shirt and bat your lashes at him that sends his brain into overdrive. he knows you’re just trying to get his attention, but the act of your fingers grappling at his sleeve and whining out that you need his help evokes some carnal desire in him that makes him want to break you; to break you and then baby you, kissing the tears off your cheeks as he tells you just how good you’re being for him.

med student!suguru, who, after hearing you tell him how worried you are for the final exam, offers to study with you— his warm palm a reassuring grip on your thigh and voice honeyed when he asks, “why don’t you let me take some stress off of you?”

med student!suguru, who invites you to his dormitory to study, and it’s when he pats down the empty space on his bed next to him that you realize you may not get much studying done tonight. everything goes smooth sailing at first— he’s coaxing cute giggles from you when he draws skeletons over your hand and up your arm to help you memorize the name of each bone, ligament, tendon, and muscle— but his marker is quick to get replaced by the tips of his fingers when he gets to your neck, the cold tips of his digits sending chills down your spine as they leave lingering touches across your collarbone and down your sternum.

med student!suguru, who keeps his mauve irises locked onto the way your lashes flutter and your lips part as he calmly palms your breast, the pad of his thumb innocently skimming over a pebbled nipple through your thin shirt. his ministrations have you keening into his touch, soft whines escaping your throat as your thighs squeeze shut and a fire begins to burn in the pit of your stomach. a single, hushed "please" falls from your lips onto his ears, and it's all he needs to hear before his mouth latches onto your neck, kisses and licks followed by mutters of the names of each artery and vein that lie under the supple skin there heating up your insides.

med student!suguru, who skips eight chapters worth of testable content when he jumps from structural to female reproductive anatomy. his fingers make hasty work to pull off his hoodie as his lips travel south, leaving dark bruises along his trail until he reaches the waistband of your skirt and his torso is bracketed in between your legs. his eyes scan over your face, and god, you look so pretty from this angle— with your bottom lip trapped between your teeth and restless fingers bunching up the cotton fabric by your side, cunny clenching around nothing in a search for something to alleviate the tension building up in your core. and before you know it, suguru's getting on his elbows and placing the backs of your knees atop his shoulders, balmy palms running the far-too short skirt you were wearing up your thighs to bunch up at your waist.

med student!suguru, who can smell the arousal emanating off of you when he’s greeted by your now soaked, panty-clad cunny in front of his face. his lips are puckered up against the swell of your clit over the damp fabric, the edges curving into a smirk when desperate mewls and choked breaths fall onto his ears. he’s quick to heed your inarticulate requests, deftly pushing your panties to the side with his index and middle fingers, running them up and down your folds to collect the milky essence that’s started to seep out of you. entranced by the stringy strand of residue that connects the pads of his fingers to your clit when he pulls back— he replaces them with his nose as he gently prods the swollen nub, lips grazing over your slick warmth, “gonna let me have a taste of you, pretty girl?”

med student!suguru, who, after hearing your drawn-out whines of agreement, wastes no time in pressing his tongue flat against your drooling hole and licking a long, slow stripe from the base all the way up to your clit— anatomy notes long forgotten as they get shuffled off the bed. he watches through hooded eyes at the way your lips twist and contort to release breathy moans of his name— the neediness lacing your voice sending cold flames up his body. a tease is what he is, the deliberate strokes of his tongue sheathed in your cunny driving you up the walls as you grapple with the dark roots of his hair trapped in between your fingers, losing all sense of sanity as you feel the burning in the pit of your stomach start to grow unbearably hot.

med student!suguru, whose cock twitches and heart swells at your tiny, broken whimpers of, “wanna cum— wanna cum on your cock, sugu’”. he grins at the realization of how you have him wrapped so tightly around you finger, pulling away from your leaking cunny almost immediately when your words fall onto his ears. he admires the thin sheen of sweat covering your half-bare frame as he leans back on his haunches and pulls his cock out of his slacks, letting it slap up against your abdomen— thumbs pressing down on the tip where it meets your skin, “look how deep you can take me, doll… gonna fill you up nice ‘nd tight.”

med student!suguru, who kisses you deeply after eating you out, tossing the remnants of your slick from his tongue onto yours while he eases his length inside your slick cunny. his cream-stained fingers wipe away the tears that pool at the corners of your eyes before they have the chance to spill over your lash line and he dotes on you, sweet praise whispered into your ears about how beautiful you look with your glazed-over eyes, how good your walls feel around him, how you’re an angel on earth— but it all goes past your head as the only thing you can make out behind your wracked sobs is suguru speaking in tongues.

med student!suguru, whose hands are gentle on your face, but whose hips tell a different story. his thrusts begin slow and calculated, drawing you out to your limits before you begin to claw at his back and your body breaks into trembles beneath him. and then he’s rocking and grinding into your cunny almost dizzyingly fast, the bulbous head of his cock prodding the one spongy spot inside you that makes you burst in no time— arousal coating his groin while your walls clamp down on him and keep his full length locked in place, “you hear that? your greedy lil’ cunt’s suckin’ me in so good— fuck— she’s all mine, yeah?”

med student!suguru, whose stomach twists at your broken cries and the mindless, almost incomprehensible words that leave your lips— the sheer girth of his cock leaving you feeling full— too full to think straight. suguru thinks he's doing okay, thinks he can hold out for a while longer, but when you begin to babble "cum in me, cum in me, cum in me—" repeatedly, as if it were some mantra— the thin rope of restraint keeping him together snaps before he's able to realize it. he empties his load inside your womb with erotically slow thrusts, savouring every drag of your wet walls along his twitching cock as he's milked dry.

med student!suguru, who pulls your lace panties back up your legs after he’s done, eyeing the slowly growing wet patch on your crotch— a result of his thick seed seeping out of you, little dribbles of it dripping down your thighs. before he has a chance to lick it off, you reposition yourself on your elbows and knees in front of him; he watches, bewitched by the slight wiggle of your hips as you arch your back and wrap your palm around his still-hard cock, sucking in air at how it jumps at your touch. his head lolls back as you bring his tip to your pouty lips, thumbing off the final beads of cum that sit atop his slit, and he thinks the next words you say— seemingly unconniving and innocent— are enough to send him tumbling into another orgasm, “can you teach me male reproductive anatomy next?”

thx 4 reading i hope u luvd it ໒꒰ྀི∩´͈ ᐜ `͈∩꒱ྀིა reblogs + comments r so appreciated <3

REINER AS A LUMBER JACK

FT. LUMBERJACK!REINER X READER

SUMMARY: getting fucked raw by reiner cause you can’t get over how big and strong he is!

CONTENT WARNINGS: established relationship, black coded, modern!au, head canon format to regular format, lumberjack!reiner, definitely one of those sexy southern dudes, size kink, mentions of size difference ofc, fingering, slight cervix fucking, outdoor sex, bulging mentioned, cream pie and yeah… lmk if i missed anything!

WORD COUNT: 3.0k……… istg it was supposed to be like 1k words max 😭

NOTES FROM SIN: wishing that i could get the sudden boost to write my thousand wips like how this came to me, i’m so mad that i could say lumberjack!reiner and immediately think up the entirety of this fic in 5 minutes…. is this my rei rei era 🫣

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cw. fluff to smut, pussy eating, overstimulation, big dick dilf!iwaizumi (mdni!)

you met dilf!iwaizumi through his daughter. you’re her aftercare counselor and she adores you like you’re her mother. she’s a sweet little girl that’s always attached to your hip.

for the past couple of weeks, she’s been trying to get your phone number to keep in contact with you and you told her that she needs to ask for her parent’s permission. so she begs and begs her dad, and while he does know about you, he doesn’t know you, so he ends up telling his daughter no which makes her very sad.

anyways, staff appreciation week comes and his daughter begs iwaizumi to get a gift for you. she made sure to ask you what your favorite snacks are. he agrees and has his daughter picks out what she wants to get you. the next day, she ends up giving you an entire box filled with snacks. surprised and super appreciative, when she’s called for dismissal, you run along with her to thank her dad. meeting him for the first time ever, you never knew what to expect but not that! you don’t expect a man as beautiful and fit as he is.

he’s in his mid-thirties while you’re in your twenties. there’s little signs of his aging, like the few strands of gray hair that appear. his face shows that his youth is slowly disappearing and he has eye bags. he has facial hair, but not too much. no mustache and the stubble growing back. he’s fucking hot and you’re gawking at him. you give him your thanks and before you can head back inside, he looks back at his daughter and asks for your number.

“she’s been asking for permission to give you my number,” he tells you. laughing, you nod.

“yes! she’s been badgering me about it and i told her that i needed your permission,” you say. “i mean, if you’re comfortable, im completely fine with it.”

exchanging numbers, your heart pounds at the smile he gives you before driving off. after that, you sort of develop a relationship with iwaizumi. he checks in with his daughter and you always let him know how she’s doing. to others, it doesn’t seem suspicious in anyway. other counselors have parents regularly keep in touch with their children through them.

however, from harmless messaging, it sparks into more when you’re invited to his daughter’s birthday party where it’s now outside of school boundaries. his daughter was so excited to see you and iwaizumi loves how you interact with her. you’re really good with children as you help along with her friends and guiding them. you and iwaizumi also got to know each other, where you learned that he’s an athletic trainer. you tell him you want to become a teacher and currently getting your bachelor’s towards education.

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eren loves to eat your sweet little pussy after a long day at work, he barges into your bedroom and leaps onto the bed, immediately taking his shirt off and working on your pants

"e-eren, what are you doing?" you'd ask as you're left in only your panties, he rips them off to see your swollen cunt throbbing for help

he is pissed. so fucking pissed off at his dumbass job, he needs to get rid of his pent-up stress and your pretty little pussy is his stress ball

he dives right in, your hands wrapped around his hair suffocating him into your cunt -his tongue is going over every edge, every slit, every hole you have.

you scream as he sloppily makes out with your pussy, hands gripping into your plush thighs to hold them up for him, he stops and kisses your clit to suck on your pussy lips to let your abused cunt rest for a minute - cherish it, it's your only break

you're humping his face, and he loves it, you're riding his mouth over and over again you're so close but he pulls away letting your taste the testing he felt, the annoyance he dragged at work.

"p-please let me cum"

"no"

you wince at his words but he dives back in, buckle up because you'll only cum when he tells you so

Though he knows he doesn't mean this, Bakugou Katsuki regrets taking your virginity.

Not in a deep, emotional way, no. The night he made love to you for the first time was a wonderful night, one that he'll probably never forget. It was romantic and you were so, so good for him, letting him take care of you all night long. He didn't want you to lift a finger that night, he just wanted you to make pretty noises while you enjoyed yourself, and you definitely delivered.

No, no, Katsuki regretted taking your virginity because ever since, you've been absolutely insatiable.

As soon as he'd enter your dorm, you'd be on him, kissing him and humping his thigh and whispering about how much you missed him, missed his touch. Within minutes, your clothes would be off, and his cock would either be deep down your throat or pounding your pussy.

And at first, Katsuki loved it. Do you know how ego-boosting it is for your girlfriend to practically beg you for sex anytime you come over? But it quickly became... a lot.

At first you could only do one round. Then you wanted two. Then you began stretching on to three. And Katsuki has a decent amount of stamina, but with how long and how frequently you wanted him to fuck you, he was having trouble catching up.

And for a moment, he considers talking about it with you. Setting a boundary that and saying "hey, I don't think I can fuck you this much." He knows you'd be understanding, and he'd rather bring it up than push it aside.

But then, you're down beneath him, mouth open and drooling and making the prettiest noises, breasts bouncing with each of his thrusts and pussy tightening around him so addictively, and Katsuki never wants to stop fucking you.

I LOVE WHEN YOU DO THAT ! ── aot + jjk men.

ᨳ  ࣪ . 001. or - gentle, loving sex with them! ft. eren jaeger, armin arlert, gojo satoru, + geto suguru x f!reader [aot + jjk men]

ᨳ  ࣪ . 002. c/w: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, eren: (shower sex, pet names [pretty]), armin: (sleepy sex, pet names [baby]), gojo: (riding, pet names [angel]), geto: (plain old bed sex, pet names [princess]) | w/c: 1.8k

୨୧ EREN JAEGER

“You like that, don’t you, pretty?” Eren asks, smoothing his hands over your sides as he presses his cock deep inside of you.

The water from the shower streams down the both of you in a pleasant warmth, doing nothing to soothe the intense heat growing between you. His fat, leaking tip is angry and red, and you almost feel bad for Eren until he catches it along your clit, adding pressure to rub lazy circles against your aching nub. You moan as you grip onto his bicep, silently begging him for more. 

Eren has nearly had it, though, and with a desperate “Please,” falling from your lips, he nudges his fat cockhead against your entrance.

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Cut to the Chase

PAIRING: timeskip!Suna Rintarou x fem!reader

GENRE: smut (18+)

Minors DNI

TAGS + WARNINGS: fingering, nipple play, light manhandling, masturbation (f), hair-pulling, cum eating, biting, use of bunny once, mating press

Let me know if I missed anything.

WORD COUNT: 3.1k

SUMMARY: You really like Suna’s new haircut. All characters are 18+

© creative-crybaby, do not repost or modify

“Are you going to let me in?”

You and Suna stare at each other as he waits at your door. Or rather, his expression appears bored while his eyes show a mix of impatience and confusion as your gaze holds awe.

“All right,” the middle blocker huffs before carefully squeezing past you, “I’ll just…”

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18+ content, minors dni.

the category is men who cannot resist seeing you in a skirt. they beckon you close, make you sit on their lap. they rest their hands on your thighs, but two seconds later they've got one hand between your legs and the other holding your waist in place. two fingers push your panties to the side and tickle your clit until you're wet enough for them to slide their fingers inside your warm walls. they scissor their digits inside you, all the while blaming you for making them so horny for choosing to wear such a slutty skirt. in the end, you're left a disheveled, quivering mess, who can't help but want more.

JEAN KIRSTEIN · EREN YEAGER · PORCO GALLIARD · CHUUYA NAKAHARA · DAICHI SAWAMURA · TETSURO KUROO · HAJIME IWAIZUMI · ATSUMU MIYA · TOJI FUSHIGURO · RYOMEN SUKUNA

*grabby hands* dilf!nanami hcs..

DILF!NANAMI

match up ꑘ dilf!nanami x nanny!reader [afab + fem!reader, she/her prns]

tags/warnings ꑘ age gap [reader is 26/nanami is 37], mentions of kids, illness comfort, alcohol use, pet names, domesticity kink, marking [hickies + biting + scratching + m.receiving], sex toys [vibe], oral [f.receiving], mating press, overstim, aftercare-ish

ro's notes ꑘ hehehe now honey yk me so well 🤭 also i may have flushed this one out since i love it sm but i hope u don’t mind 🤧

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI whose hand was practically forced when it came to hiring a nanny, his promotion taking precious time away from his twins, yuuji and sukuna. “i’m sorry, boys, but i’m sure you’ll love them. i’ll only hire the best for you two.”

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who shocked you the second he opened the door to his apartment, his sharp jaw and handsome features making you stutter out your hello, him returning with, “you must be ms. [y/n]. nice to meet you, dear.”

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who found it hard to dislike you even at your newly constant presence, because even when the kids were at school, you were there, cleaning the house or asking him if he needed anything from the market. “well, suk wanted some mango and yuj some strawberries, so would you like a fruit with your “school” lunch like them.” the smile and giggle making his heart pick up pace

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI whose favorite weekend activity was quickly going to the park with you and the twins, loving how you would tease and pick at them but still give them the encouragement and support they needed “yuuji your hairs a mess—come ‘ere so i can fix it, baby.” “sukuna, look at me for a sec and why don’t you tell me why you’ve started crying, hun.”

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI whose favorite weekend activity was quickly going to the park with you and the twins, loving how you would tease and pick at them but still give them the encouragement and support they needed “yuuji your hairs a mess—come ‘ere so i can fix it, baby.” “sukuna, look at me for a sec and why don’t you tell me why you’ve started crying, hun.”

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who started to depend on you on more than just an employee level, enjoying your ‘non-nanny’ days when the twins would spend the night at their friend, megumi’s home and you would sit with him on the couch and talk for a few hours “mmm, i see. so your boss wants you to newbies work? doesn’t seem fair.” even falling asleep on his shoulder one night

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who began to care for you quicker than expected, your kindness and optimism oftentimes overtaking his pessimistic, tired days, leaving him to yearn for your return from picking up the twins from school. “don’t rush,” is what he’d tell you but may have paced back and forth in front of the main window while he waited when he should be writing emails

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who reveled in your presence during the summer months when the four of you traveled to the Netherlands for some time away from the city—Nanami saying the reason was that was were his great grandfather was from. “i’ll be honest with you,,,i’ve never met that man in my life but it is beautiful here, isn’t it?”

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who loved having your bedroom next to his rather than across the apartment, loved hearing your music play when you showered, hearing you murmur to your family over the phone, and dance around when you got tipsy late at night

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who forced you to the doctors when you got a cold, sending the boys to the old couple next door that had been dying to spend the day with them

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who then let the twins have a sleep over so he could sit by your bed that night and rush to the bathroom for cool wash cloths when you gained a fever, then falling asleep with his head at the foot of your bed

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who fell ill shortly after you got better and was possible too ecstatic to have you dozing off on his bed after taking his temperature instead “such a cozy sleeper,” he thought before joining you in slumber

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who was accidentally too touchy one night, putting his hand on your lower back and kissing your cheek before you left the kitchen to get ready for bed, saying, “goodnight, sunshine.”

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who was knocking on your bedroom door after a day of the two of you playing with the kids in the garden. “mr. kento? i’m in the bath, but you can come in.”

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who nervously walked toward your bathroom, only to pause outside the open doorframe, twisting to rest his back against the wall. “a bath? you never take those.” “well after my shower i was feeling a bit sore.”

“hm…im sure there’s a spa in town. you’ve been working so hard. why don’t you take the day off to enjoy yourself, get a massage?”

“mmm, i don’t know.” and maybe there had been a two time empty wine glass sitting on the edge of that tub. “i don’t think i’d want anyone but you to touch me when I’m so close to be naked.”

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who fumbled the bag he soooo desperately wanted. “uh, some other time. I actually came to ask you something.”,

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who had successfully stumbled through asking to make you dinner when the boys would be with the neighbors for a few days. “it’s almost time to head back to Tokyo—wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done for us so far.”

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who fed you a homemade meal and a bottle of wine that left you sitting on his lap, playing the his unbuttoned white shirt, chewing on your lip while his smooth voice washed over you. “your voice is so sexy,” you slurred, pawing at his chest. “it’s like…fuckable- want your voice to fuck me, mr. nanami”

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who let you kiss on his neck while holding your hips still, “why don’t we get you to bed?”, only to learn you had fell asleep and he would be trudging through the house with you in his arms to put you to bed

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who refused to have the childish “i’m embarrassed and i’m sorry” from you, quickly correcting that if he hadn’t enjoyed it you would’ve known and the bruises in his neck was a lasting reminder of how long he let you kiss and suck at his throat

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who wasted no time in taking the chores off your hands for the next couple of days and him standing over the sink, washing the dishes, shouldn’t have made you ache as much as it did

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who was suddenly aware of the vibrating sound coming from your bedroom; he’d heard it before but now that he’d pieced it together he may have tried to listen a bit closer

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who had knocked on your door and now had one of your legs over his shoulder while he sucked on your clit and licked through your folds in the middle of the doorway “such a pretty thing,” was muffled because of your hands keeping his head buried in your cunt

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who did his best to be loving when he got you on the bed, did his best to fuck you slow and sweet, “it’s been so long, [y/n].” but your pleas for him to be more rough broke his resolve. “i’m begging, kento. i wanna cry- make me cry, please. please, fuck me harder.”

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI whose blonde hair was messy with sweat while your hands clawed at his back. “hell, you feel so good and your fucking nails.” his thrusts forced you to grab ahold of the headboard to keep from having your head slammed into the wood.

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who took pride in pressing your legs to your chest and pumping loads of cum into your drenched cunt “you’ll take it all, won’t you?” loving how you screamed, “yes! yes, i will.”

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI whose eyes caught the vibrator sitting on your nightstand and quickly pressed it against your clit and watch you try and squirm away “c’mon stay still, beautiful.” “‘m tryinggg.”

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who had you cum over and over till tears left your eyes to grace your cheeks. “kento- I’m- I can’t-” “i know, i know. one more for me, alright?” him, stroking your cheeks so lovingly like he wasn’t making you gasp for air and grit your teeth

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who, with ease, made you a mess on his dick, leaving you shaking against his chest after you had both came for the last time. “just relax. i’ve got you, dear.”

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who couldn’t have been happier to wake up next to you, your hands wrapped around his bicep, face squished against his bite mark covered shoulder. “love,,,we’ve got to get up…wait- uh, how do you feel? can you move?”

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who made you breakfast in bed before running to the grab the twins from your neighbors. “i’ll be back right.” then listening to sukuna ask if you could come with them next summer. “hopefully and hopefully she’ll come with us when we go to Malaysia.”

ꑘ DILF!NANAMI who fell quick and even harder when you returned to Japan, ready to remove your nanny title to something more and closer to his heart. maybe even move your room closer to his

ꑘ AND DILF!NANAMI who had thoughts of proposing just a year later with a simple ring like you requested and at a bar in Malaysia where he had taken you on your first date of many dates “i think i wanna spend the rest of my life with you, move the out with you, travel with you, retire with you, do everything with. you..”

tagging ꑘ @sintiva @okhotel @chaotic-nick @missyasma @tonaken @nekoriots @wh0reforlevi @q-the-rockaholic @forwardpair @sugaslilsugabby @erenyeagerswhore @takemichiluvr @heartsfrommars + taglist