SAY YOU LOVE ME.

CRUEL INTENTIONS⌇GETO, GOJO, NANAMI.

warnings. manipulation, toxicity, taboo, gangbang/train, professor(s) x student, double penetration, oral (m.receiving), unprotected sex, bukkake, slight sir kink.

pairings. prof!geto, prof!nanami, prof!gojo x f!reader. reader is at least 20+ and attends college.

word count. 4,100+

summary. it seems your three favorite professors all have something in common; they have an eye for you as their top student in class. but when your dirty secrets with them are suddenly exposed, you’d do anything for them just to save your precious reputation...

Lying is the most fun a girl could have without having to take off her clothes. But it’s better if you do.

It’s quite amusing to see how far you’ve come, having three different men wrapped around your finger. Specifically your professors. You know the game you’re playing is dangerous. You know what’s bound to come if the truth unfolds. But how could you resist having your precious little ego being boosted? The pleasure, the rewards, the entertainment, the feeling of being desired and loomed over… All you had to do was blind your target with your radiance, stimulate their mind until their obsession over you worsens, and achieve your satisfaction out of it.

All it is to you is just innocent fun, a road paved to your entertainment and delight. Driving the dangerous wheels ‘till you break more than one broken heart. You believed that men were just so easy to toy around with. So easy to toy around with until you get bored.

The first man was your law professor; Gojo Satoru. Such questionable grades you had in his class lead to small conference periods and then tutoring sessions. He was curious. Way too curious. It took him one peak on your personal life, a fake narrative you made up of your struggle at college and back home. Though Professor Gojo was skeptical of your made-up sob story, he was rather intrigued of you deep down. Taking you in, invading his mind everytime he sees you in class. It wasn’t until those discussions escalated; nonstop praising you for being a good, obedient girl for him during tutoring sessions.

“You were making it so obvious you wanted me to fuck you exactly like this. Bent over my desk just for me to ruin this pussy… I’ll release all my stress out on you.”

You take thrill of how easy it was having him wrapped around your finger. It was a rocky process along the way; to fully convince the smart man that you feel the same way he does about you. And you finally got what you desired; the beautiful rewards. Good grades, a place for being his top student, and hardcore sex with him in his office after class. It’s just a fun game for you to play with his mind and feelings to get what you want.

Of course, you grew bored of just one man looming over you. You needed more. You needed the fulfillment and ego boost of playing with a man’s feelings for your own pleasure and your reputation. It wasn’t until the second man, your culinary professor Nanami Kento, was also enticed by you.

It’s fascinating to know there are various ways to win a man’s heart. One is through his stomach, and Nanami’s absolute weakness is a woman who can cook and bake well. Nanami’s observed your culinary skills, slowly growing tantalized and captivated by not only the food you made, but by you. He was a good looking man to you, even treats you like you’re already his top student in class. To return his attention, you would leave special treats for him after class with a little note.

“Mm… You taste so sweet. Grind on my tongue. Show me how much bad you wanna cum.”

Sweet treats and flirty little notes had lead to special “cooking sessions” with him after class. Sometimes you’d give him a blowjob to relieve his stress. Sometimes he’d let you lie on the counter and eat your pussy. He’d even bend you over, holding your leg up, and hammer into you relentlessly. You loved his dirty talk and the way he fingers you while you’re in his lap, able to make you squirt as lewd as possible. Filthy kitchen sex was the best reward for you when classes are finished and you were bored. When Professor Gojo wasn’t available, Professor Nanami it is.

A few weeks later, a unique scenario with another one of your professors gave you a different kind of fulfillment. English professor Geto Suguru, the first man to fulfill his mission of chasing after your heart and not just your body. This is what you feared the most; the man wanting whatever you had to be more than just a fling.

You wanted to ghost him. You wanted to break his heart right there and then. But you held back when Geto offered more than just good grades, good rankings, and a good reputation for you in college. Outside of school, it caught you completely off guard when he satisfied your materialistic needs. Just as you satisfied him, he offered for you to spend the nights in his luxurious penthouse whenever you wanted. Aside that, he also offered to help pay for half of your tuition. He helped pay back your student loans. He treated you with designer clothes, bags, shoes, and money straight to your bank account.

And all you had to do to keep a man like him in his life… was “love” him back the way he loved with you. He mentioned to you eloping with him when you graduate. As much as you found marriage and settling down repulsing, turning away from this opportunity would make you lose everything you had. And maybe deep down… the more you spend time with your sweet English professor, you had underlying feelings for him as well. You wouldn’t dare deny it.

Sex with Professor Geto was like Heaven on earth. He prefers to treat you with royalty since he cherishes you deeply, prefering to fuck you in his penthouse with a nice view rather than a classroom. In the car, in the shower, on his large couch by the fireplace… this fling was bound to become a secret relationship with him and you couldn’t do much except endure it for your own benefit. You loved it. You loved how whipped he was for you. You loved how he’d do anything just to make you feel good. Aside Professor Gojo and Professor Nanami, Professor Geto was the man you’d see every weekend.

“Look at how good you’re taking my cock. I know you love when I treat you like this. Let me make love with you, sweetheart. Let me taste your pussy again later.”

All these sneaky links with your three professors, yet you treat them all the same as an ego boost and your entertainment. They were your perfect little boy toys. Professor Gojo would be Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. Professor Nanami would be Tuesdays and Fridays. Professor Geto would be the whole weekend and student holidays. It was all going according to plan throughout the semesters.

But it wasn’t until a staff meeting with these three took place. When Nanami found a video of you and Geto, things escalated heavily…

You nearly tremble where you stand, heart beating thickly and erratically when you found yourself cornered. You refused to speak, refused to move your body the slightest at how unprepared you were for the horror before you.

You see Professor Geto laid back in his seat, legs propped up on his desk as he kept twisting his ring. The same ring he gave you. Nearby was Professor Gojo leaning against the corner of his desk, arms folded as his impassive gaze drifts to you. Then behind you was Professor Nanami who leaned against the wall and stuffed his hands in his pockets. It felt like he was inspecting your body language and reaction, how you’d react to such a scenario you never thought would occur.

“You came,” you heard Geto speak darkly, the baritone in his voice reverberating in your head. In the back of your mind, you wished that he would speak to you like that when it was only you two. Curling his finger at you to walk to him as if you were having a punishment. Was it bad that you were slightly turned on by this, but at the same time scared shitless?

You had to think of something quick. Maybe they actually don’t know. Maybe they didn’t find out. Maybe it was just by coincidence all of your favorite boy toys were in the same room who knew you, but you didn’t know all of them at once.

“I— I’m sorry. I think I’m in the wrong room.” You quickly whirl around and grabbed the knob, ready to get the hell out of Geto’s classroom until Nanami stretched his arm out and slammed the door shut, preventing your escape. The loud slam caused your heart to falter, chest tightening from your anxiety and your fear that they already know.

“You sure about that?” Nanami rose a brow, his mutter so taunting yet chilling to you the same way Geto spoke earlier. Punishment could go various ways, and as much as you wanted it to escalate in the most filthy way possible, you didn’t wanna face the shame. It would tear your perfect ego. It would cost everything you worked for to fall.

But then again, did you truly belong to any of these men?

“Who told you to leave?” The dark-haired professor spoke again. “I specifically called you here for a reason. We specifically called you.”

Professor Gojo stood straight, adjusting his tie. “You know her as much as I do, Suguru. She never listens until she gets what she wants.”

Your body was growing hot. Your palms started feeling clammy. Behind was Nanami’s presence creeping up to you and slamming his hands on your shoulders, causing you to flinch.

“You didn’t think we’d find out who you’ve been seeing this whole time?” the blond man muttered in your ear. “Such a coincidence that you’ve been fucking my close friends behind my back.”

“Our backs,” Professor Gojo corrected, his nose flared in exasperation. “You told us that we were special. You told us that you’ve never felt this way about a man before. You said the same, recycled shit to us only so you could use us for sex and whatever you want.”

You needed to steer the attention away from the accusations and maintain composure. It was always your ego and feelings before each of them. But before anything else escalates, you resorted to putting on an innocent façade, victimizing yourself in order to set things your way and save yourself. Save what you had with them so you could continue getting what you wanted. Play with their emotions. Let them know who’s in control. Make them fall for every pretty little lie you say.

“. . . What? Use you for sex?” you protested with feigned perplexity to Gojo, slipping yourself from Nanami’s grip. “You’re the nicest professors I’ve known and I’d never treat you that way. I wouldn’t treat any of you like that! I’m your top favorite students, how could you say something so awful about me like that?”

“Enough with that bullshit, Y/N. There’s video evidence of you and Geto having sex together. What do you have to say about that, hm?” Nanami says coldly.

There was a pause. In that moment, there was no way for you to victimize yourself out of this and escape the Hell you created. You imagined the video playing on Geto’s phone, feeling your stomach sink. You admitted the tragic defeat deep down, shattering your heart that you nearly teared up. It even felt so humiliating all of this had to end up this way. The rewards, the satisfaction, the excitement of three men whipped for you regardless— all of it crumbled down on you now that the truth is out.

“You wanna know what you really are?” Professor Geto suddenly spoke impassively. “You’re just a little whore, aren’t you? Letting anyone with a cock fuck you just to raise your grades? Give you money? Cater to your sweet tooth?”

“A manipulative, spoiled, bitch that’s only good for sex,” Gojo chided. “I bet that’s what you thought of us as this whole time. Just your little boy toys good for sex.”

Professor Geto clenched his teeth, his jawbones more refined when pissed off. “You can’t lie to us anymore. We know what the hell you’ve done. Lying and manipulating your way out of this won’t get you out of here.”

You were running out of options. But that doesn’t mean there weren’t an infinite amount of ways this intervention could go. This doesn’t mean you look weak before them. So, you resorted to something that could possibly save you. Not the relationships at all— just you and your reputation. You knew the men long enougha and assessed their weaknesses when it comes to you and what makes them more enticed with you. Somehow, you can tell there was another underlying tension in the classroom between one another, rather than your dirty little secrets getting exposed. Geto kept narrowing his eyes at the two other professors speaking, specifically Nanami right next to you.

Your expression turned nonchalant, completely tossing away your innocent, fragile façade and narrowing your eyes at the three gentlemen. If you could poke on Geto’s soft spot for you, maybe the attention could divert from you to the others in jealousy. He was in love. He would do anything for you. You can see the man so deeply hurt inside it seemed pathetic. At such vulnerability, it would be fun to trivialize all of their feelings. Make this about them, not you. Shift the blame on them as a taboo for having sex with a college student, and not on you for being a “whore” as they say.

“Fine,” you spoke impassively. “I admit that was our video, sure. Feel whatever you wanna feel about me. But overreacting and going out y’alls way to expose me? After what I’ve done to keep all of you gentlemen happy?”

Completely neglect how upset they are. Only you should be the upset one.

Your gaze suddenly settles softly into Geto’s eyes like you were hypnotizing him. “If we’re talking about lying, you can’t deny that you wanted what we had to be more than just a fling. And now you’re gonna shame me in front of your friends? I don’t think you should feel that way after you told me you loved me, Suguru.”

There was a pause. Professor Geto felt his heart stutter when you sauntered to him with doe eyes and a coy façade. The honey in your voice as you spoke tentatively. The way your gleaming eyes weaved through his, and the lovely sight of your figure up close. He hated the way you’re playing coy. He hated how you left him ashamed. He hated that he couldn’t resist how adorable you looked in front of him it pissed him off.

“You— you said you love her?” Gojo suddenly sputtered as he glared at Geto, repulsed.

“Such bullshit,” Nanami interrupted bitterly. “When we found that video, all of us started putting the pieces together. It really ruined my fucking day that a student I have a personal relationship with is also having… other personal relationships with my coworkers. Making her feel good every other day when it should only be me.”

“Oh, really now?” The frost-haired professor retorted in defense. “You’re fucking the same girl as me and you don’t think of how I feel after finding out? You think you own her or somethin’?”

“She was never ours in the first place, jackass,” Nanami hissed. “Not like you had a special connection with her anyways. You just fuck her after school and that’s all.”

“So do you, Kento. You’re nothing special to her either and we just argued about this before she came. Now, Suguru. You better not fucking tell me you’re in love with this student right now.”

“No, she— she’s right…” Geto mumbled, his mind overstimulated between anger and infatuation.“I’ve had a special connection with her outside of school. We’ve already had this fucking conversation before she came. I’m the one that had real chemistry with her.”

“Really? Just by helping her pay for her tuition and giving her matching rings?” scoffed Nanami. “You can’t buy love with your fuckin’ money.”

“Yeah, and how do you know she loves you back anyways?” Gojo gibed.

The intervention was steering the way you wanted to be until Gojo’s question. Although you secretly enjoyed the argument and having the tension turned away from you, you had to stop it right there. You had a perfect idea that just popped in your mind. And thinking about it excited you deeply, feeling your cunt furtively throbbing.

“Guys, guys…” you chimed in with your demure voice, stepping closer in the circle of the three men. “I thought y’all were all good friends, why argue? There are better ways to handle this besides arguing.”

After the room fell silent, Gojo gave a look that read, you thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’? Nanami and Geto glanced at each other with underlying skepticism, until, you reach both your hands out and caress their arms as if you were closing the circle. A sigh falls from your lips when all of them had their eyes on you, once again blinded by your radiance and beauty that they fell for. Gojo can feel your hand travel up his arm so tenaciously, the sweetness of feeling your skin sending a gut feeling in his stomach.

Even though they know what you’ve done, they can never resist the temptation of drinking the heavenly sight of you, desiring nothing more than to have you as theirs. They were whipped for you, regardless. You can see it on each of their eyes. They were possessive. They were enraged. They couldn’t walk away from this, let alone speak under your authority. Your provocation, your prowess, your muse… they can’t escape it.

“You know, if one of you can’t have me… then how about all of you have me at the same time?” you smirked, the deadliest smirk corner to wicked corner of your sweet lips. “It’s better to take your frustrations out on me like you guys always do. You can do whatever you want.”

Professor Gojo slanted his head, glancing at Nanami and Geto, then to you. “Whatever you want, you say?”

“Whatever. You. Want.”

Professor Geto cupped your cheek, raising your face to look at him and nearly melting at the sight of your doe eyes. “We’ll make a deal. If you don’t want us to expose you and ruin your reputation here, you better show how much of a dirty girl you are for us.”

“You truly are a fuckin’ whore, aren’t you?” sneered Professor Nanami, inching closer to you to caress your waist until he squeezes your ass.

This is exactly how you resolve a conflict with your sneaky links.

In that moment, you were too elated. The sounds of belts unbuckling, slacks unzipping, and your soft gasps of desperation sent the professors ablaze. Like a pack of wild animals during a hunt, it was as if they came up with a plan and were carrying it out together as a team without the need for words. You offered your mouth and hands for them, catering to their hard cocks sitting on your face.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Nanami sighed out, throwing his head back. “You know just how I like it.”

You can feel Gojo’s fingers suddenly probing into your pussy and rubbing over your clit. You mewled on Nanami’s cock as he fingered you while Geto jerked off to this sinful sight. It has been a dirty little fantasy you briefly thought about— to get fucked in the most nastiest and filthiest way by all your favorite professors.

“Aw, you must be loving this, aren’t you?” Gojo held your chin when Nanami slipped his cock out, his warm fingers feeling your tongue. All you could reply was a moan and a weak nod, your eyebrows furrowed when he kept fucking your pussy with his fingers.

“You’ll address all of us as sir, understand?” Geto ordered as his cock was already coated with precum rubbed on your face.

“Yes. Yes sir,” you weakly uttered before he shoved his cock all the way down your throat. He grabbed your head and pushed it back and forth, softly groaning at the sensation of your throat around him. You never disappoint him with the head you give him.

Everyone in the room can hear how wet you are, how much you’re enjoying yourself. Your cunt was ready for all of them, so slick and puffy you couldn’t wait longer for them to make you cum. Your clit was ready, hard and twitching and straining from Gojo’s stimulation; so cruel and merciless, just like anytime he fucked you during tutoring sessions.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Geto grunted out, hearing you choke on his sweet cum when he released in your mouth and coating his cock like honey on a stick.

“Get her on the desk,” said Nanami.

The men were aggressive. The men were greedy. The men were like animals. You grew wetter and wetter with every rough move they made on you, like Geto ripping open your top from his impatience and Gojo shoving your skirt up to your waist. He laid down on the desk and sets you on top of him in reverse cowgirl, his cock ready for you to sit on.

“You may have taken us one at a time, but can you handle us all at once?” Geto teased, his dick rubbing the folds of your open cunt.

“Fuck… please, please, please,” you whimpered, already overstimulated from such arousal your pussy and your thighs were glimmering with pools of wetness. “Please, sir. I want all your cocks in me. I want you to use me as you wish. Fuck me like the dirty slut I am.”

Gojo spanks your ass from beneath, harsher on the side where your cute little devil heart tattoo was. “We know, baby, we know,” he sighed softly, chuckling along with Nanami. “Sit on my cock, princess. You know what to do. Ride me and let Suguru and Kento see how well you take me.”

You obeyed, spreading your legs further and inserting his dick into your cunt it made your head cloudy from the intensity. You proceeded to buck your hips back and forth, then use your lower body strength to bounce on him while circling your hips. Your moans were so uncontrollable, so raw and useless to maintain when he kept hitting the right spot like always in your cunt.

Gojo held onto your hips and threw his head back at how good you’re taking him. Your thighs were starting to quiver. You can feel an orgasm nearing. You can feel all the tension build up. But before you were about to hit your high, Gojo forces you to stop moving and slide his cock in your asshole, causing you to mewl louder. That’s when Geto dipped his cock into the combined wetness of your pussy, thrusting a few times that your mouth fell agape. Your pathetic moans filled the room, too brainless at how harsh the professors were fucking your holes. Nanami stood on the desk and grabbed your head to make you suck him off. Your holes were all occupied at the same time.

“Fuck. You look so hot right now,” grunted Geto as he pushed your legs further to spread them wider. “Gonna keep cumming in my fucking pussy. Take everything.”

Your cunt was becoming overly slick with the copious amounts of cum that was being pumped into it, dripping between your legs and onto Gojo’s cock. Your ass was stretched, more than it had ever been, from the ongoing penetration then withdrawal of their cocks, with the different sizes and with different fucking techniques.

Soon you were bent over the desk, Nanami fucking you while you sucked off Gojo. Then you were on top of Geto on the carpet, thrusting into you like an animal in heat as you took turns sucking off Gojo and Nanami. Multiple positions and multiple orgasms lead to a huge mind break. Not a proper sentence could be formed with such slurred speech and exhaustion.

You were a whore that was good for nothing but a fuck. A depository for the professor’s cum, just holes for fucking and a toy to torture. Your cunt was now battered and bruised, ass slapped multiple times raw by their strong, masculine hands, and both holes stretched and aching from the amount of cock. Even when they weren’t inside you, the continual pounding and the oozing cum throbbed in your walls. The professors let you on the floor again, releasing their cum all over your face and body. You were too drained to swallow them all, letting the rest of your energy allow you to mutter a simple, “thank you sir.”

And just like that, were left alone, draped in cum.

ALL WORKS BELONG TO VILSOO ©. do not steal, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works outside tumblr.

i think im gonna start writing again this year 😇😇

Dilf!Eren with his wife who was his college sweet-heart and he basically just worships and adores the she ground walks on, especially now that they are parents.

warnings: afab!reader + she pronouns, soft sex, domestic, oral (f receiving), squirting, penetrative sex, mentions of body changes after pregnancy

eren who always said he'd love you, back when the two of you were young and thrilled. eren who vowed to love you, in sickness and in health, till death do you apart.

eren who didn't stop loving you- if somehow it was possible, he's only just more in love with you.

eren loves the days when his parents come to collect the kids, taking them out for a fun day and leaving just the two of you alone in the house. he can't resist snuggling up behind you when you're washing dishes, his plush lips pressing against your neck, his hands groping your hips, slipping under your top, his long hair tickling your face.

"eren-" you giggle as his large hand splays over your breast, squeezing the fat as he starts to rut his hips into you, letting you feel his stiffening cock.

"come on-" he coos. "those munchkins are gone- i miss you." you know it's stupid how needy he is because you see him every day and sleep in the same bed together as you've been doing for the past twenty years but eren's like that- so drunk on love, so drunk on you.

so with a sigh that you know you're faking because your lips are stretching out in a grin you let eren lead you away to the bedroom.

eren's never gotten bored of you, and you don't think he ever will. he eats you out like a man starved, mouth tireless as he laps at your wetness and sucks your throbbing clit. he loves how your legs wrap around his head, your hair tugging him against your soaked cunt, loud moans filling the room as you rut your hips against him, using him to get off as he groans, humping the edge of the bed for sheer relief as he eats you out. he fingers you so well, long fingers curling to find that sweet spot that has you crying out, trembling hands gripping his wrist as he just continues relentlessly, pushing you to an orgasm, coaxing you to cum on his tongue. but he doesn’t stop then- he continues, moaning into your pussy with you, not stopping till you’re seeing white, till your back arches off the bed and your legs tremble around his head, till you’re squirting all over his face.

eren who praises you, who calls you beautiful as his hands roam your body, loving what motherhood has done to you. he loves to slide his painfully hard cock into your warm tight cunt, moaning your name as his fingers lace with yours. he can go for rounds after rounds, loving to fuck your sweet little cunt, loving to play with your pretty nipples and kiss you messily, swallowing your moans. eren who’ll never get tired of seeing how beautiful his love looks when she cums on his cock with her name heavy on his tongue.

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 🌚

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰──── ───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡

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! 🫶🏾

Slip

Bokuto’s been on the brain lately that’s all I’m saying | cw: smut, fem!reader, shower sex, size kink, little bit of manhandling | wc: 1.5k

Bokuto Koutarou is a large man.

He’s always been pretty big, even as a baby, all chubby cheeks and chunky thighs and wide, golden eyes. As a teen, he was taller than most, and starting to fill out his volleyball uniform quickly from training so much. And now, as an adult, he’s the star of his fans' wildest fantasies.

Bokuto is beautifully sculpted, the result of so much hard work, and he’s all yours.

Strong, broad shoulders and biceps that you can’t even fit two hands around, flex and bulge under his shirts when he lifts you excitedly in greeting. Pecs that double as the perfect pillows when you’ve had a long day, along with meaty thighs, and an ass that’s annoyingly perkier than your own. He can easily toss you around as though you weigh nothing more than a bag of flour.

But sometimes, he doesn’t know his own strength.

Under the hot spray of the shower, you rinse out your shampoo, distantly hearing the sound of the front door swinging shut. The bathroom door is unlocked since you’re home alone, and Bokuto takes advantage of that knowledge, barging in and quickly shedding his workout gear.

“At least knock first, Kou.”

“Relax, baby.” He slides the shower door open and steps into the steam, crowding your space and moving under the running showerhead. “You’re my wife, remember?” he says cheekily, leaning down to kiss your cheek.

“Your wife still likes a little privacy from time to time.” He grins, grey strands of hair beginning to sag and flop down against his skull from the weight of water beating down on his head.

“But I missed you, baby!” And there it is, the whine paired with earnest eyes that douses any brewing irritation. You roll your eyes, looping your arms around his neck and pulling him down for a sweet kiss. He responds eagerly, humming against your mouth and letting his hands travel down your body. Warmth of a different kind trails over your sides and waist, down to your thighs where he taps lightly.

“Up,” he mumbles, easily hefting you into his arms. Your legs tangle around his waist, and any thoughts of actually showering pour out of your mind and down the drain when his tongue slips inside your open mouth. You suck on the wet muscle, grinning when he groans and kisses you more desperately.

Bokuto resituates his hands so that they’re resting on your ass, slapping your right cheek playfully and swallowing your yelp of surprise. His cock is already hard, you realise, poking at your inner thigh, pulsating and hot.

“Missed me, did you?” you say with a snicker, pulling away to press slow, open-mouthed kisses against his wet jaw and throat.

“I did!” he insists. “But I couldn’t stop thinking about you when you texted saying you were gonna shower. My mind wanders, y’know. ”

“You little perv,” you gasp teasingly, nipping at the skin of his collarbone. He huffs but doesn’t say anything, instead squeezing the fat of your ass between his fingers. “What were you thinking about?”

“You,” he gasps when you lick a stripe up his neck to under his ear, before sucking the lobe between your lips.

“What about me?” Your whisper tickles his ear and you can feel the way his cock jumps excitedly against your thigh. You run a hand down over his chest, grazing your fingers gently over his nipples, and squeezing his pecs teasingly. Continuing down, your hands slide towards his cock, brushing the head gently with the pads of your fingers.

“Fuck, baby- was thinking about your- fuck,” he whimpers when you wrap your fingers around his weeping length, rubbing it slowly over your clit.

“Mm, thinking about my…”

“Don’t tease,” he says, breathing growing heavy. “Touch me properly.”

“I am touching you properly, Kou,” you say, lazily enclosing your fist over his shaft before resuming grinding against him. “You were saying?” He swallows hard, the heady mix of steam and your warm cunt quickly making him dizzy.

“Was thinkin’ ‘bout- oh, fuck- about your pussy. Wanted to fuck you so bad, wanna fuck you- shit- you’re driving me crazy here, baby-“

“But I’ve barely even touched you, sweetie,” you coo softly.

“I know but-“ he stutters over a whiny groan when you slowly pump him, precum mixing with your own where you’ve rested his cockhead. He can feel the heat emanating from your entrance, drooling in anticipation of his dick.

“Enough,” he says exasperatedly.

Bokuto takes your hand away from his cock and tosses it back over his shoulder, stroking himself along your gooey slit himself, before slowly pressing inside with a gasp.

Another thing that’s big about Bokuto-

“Kou, wait-“

-his cock.

“I know, baby, I’ll go slow, I’ll go slow, please, just need to be inside you- fuck, I can’t wait. Been thinkin’ bout this- ooh wow, you feel amazing. ” He thinks he’s going slowly, but he’s staring down intently at the way your pussy struggles to swallow his thick length so soon, and his brain goes completely fuzzy. You’ve gone from teasing him to whining about how big he is, how much he’s stretching you out, in the space of a few moments.

“It’s okay, baby, oh fuck- you’re so tight- so fuckin’ tight,” he grunts, overwhelmed by how you’re squeezing down on him so perfectly. His skin buzzes, electric with pleasure as he clumsily rubs soft circles into your sensitive nub to help you relax around him a little.

“Koutarou.” You sigh as the slight burn from being split open on his cock eventually begins to ebb a little.

“Mm, yeah, there we go, there we go.” His grip readjusts to your hips, and he lifts you off his length before bringing you back down again, and again, still mumbling to himself. “That’s it, that’s my girl, fuck-“

Bokuto moves to lean you against the tiled wall, condensation cool under your back, a sharp contrast to the steam curling from the still-running water. He fucks you deep, carving his way through your cunt, lighting your body on fire with every delicious drag.

“So big-“ you whimper again, clinging onto him for dear life. Your nails are digging into his shoulders, leaving crescent shaped indentations behind, but your husband barely registers any pain. He’s too busy being enthralled by your hot insides, slick and squelching with every thrust. He’s been inside you countless times before, but he’ll never get used to how heavenly it feels.

So much so that he begins to hammer into you, gripping your hips even tighter as he pulls you on and off his cock - there’ll be bruises in the shape of his fingers come morning. You’re moaning unabashedly, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes, even as your back begins to slip against the damp tile. It’d be uncomfortable if you were cognisant of any sensation other than the throbbing heat between your legs.

“Slow down Kou- what if I, mm- f-fall-“

“You won’t fall, I’ve got you, I’ve got you see?” He squeezes your hip to prove his point, pressing closer to you so that he can kiss your parted lips singing so sinfully for him. It’s more a mess of tongue than anything, saliva dripping down your chin and immediately being washed away by the stream of water pattering into your skin.

Hot pleasure drips and pools in your belly, bubbling fiercely until you feel as if you may burst when his cock repeatedly strokes against the spongy spot inside you.

“Right there, Kou- fuck! I’m gonna-“ The grip you have on him tightens, legs and arms alike, until you feel your orgasm crash into you intensely.

“Fuck! Kou!” You cum with a keening wail, pussy strangling his cock and forcing his own orgasm to wash over him.

“Baby, oh- god- hah- ‘m cumming, gonna cum-“ Bokuto doesn’t stop moving, still erratically pumping into you as he climaxes. His legs are shaky as he does so and in the midst of voicing his pleasure, his foot slips in the water pooling in the shower tray, and you slide down the tile with a screech.

“Shit!” He manages to catch both of you before he actually falls and does any damage, panting harshly from adrenaline when he stills. You’re still in his arms, eyes squeezed shut with a cunt full of cock, trembling both from fear and the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“That was close,” he huffs, slowly straightening up.

“I told you to slow down,” you say lightly, flicking his nose in annoyance and watching it wrinkle.

“‘M sorry baby, you just felt so good!” It’s hard not to smile when he flatters you casually. “If anything it’s your fault.”

“How is it my fault?” you asked incredulously.

“It’s your pussy.” he says, running a thumb over your puffy clit and feeling you twitch around him. He looks at you with a smouldering golden gaze, lip caught between his teeth to hide his smirk. “It’s dangerous.”

“I’m serious, sweetie. No more manhandling in the shower,” you tell him gently, kissing his nose where you just flicked him. “You can throw me around in the bedroom, but not in here. ‘Kay?” Reluctantly, he nods in agreement. You kiss his lips softly, gasping into his mouth when he slowly pulls out, before gently setting you back on your feet.

“Let’s go then, we can shower after.”

Rbs and comments are appreciated 🖤

warnings: fem!bodied reader, slight choking

Sakusa Kiyoomi is a man of perfect habits. He's diligent about his surroundings, conscious about his health, passionate about his work and is the epitome of a gentleman.

However there's one habit of his that always has your attention- no matter where you are.

Sakusa Kiyoomi manspreads.

Sitting down on the bench during a time-out, head tipped back as he sucks in mouthfuls of water as his legs spread even more, shorts straining against bulging thighs-

Dropping onto the leather couch after a long publicity event, still dressed in his perfectly starched suit, dark green tie just slightly loosened, slacks stretched tight as he rests his head on the back of the couch, throat bared-

Or like now, lounging in your chair, dressed in nothing but grey sweatpants watching you flit around, getting dressed for a friend's birthday dinner.

"Do you think I should wear pants? I feel like pants will suit this situation better than a dress."

"Mhm, you could wear those tan ones, the ones you bought last week."

You pause, thinking about it, letting your eyes drift over to the man in question. He has a book open in his hand, glasses resting on his nose- looking so painfully delicious. You have half a mind to give up on the evening and curl up on his lap instead.

"-and you always look pretty no matter what, so you should just wear what you want to."

"I- yeah, thanks Kiyo," you say, having missed most of what he had been saying.

He hums in response as you root through your closet, looking for the pants in question. Finding them, you quickly tug them on, removing the towel you had been wearing and make your way out of the closet.

"Well? What do you think?," you ask, turning in front of him so that he has a full view of the silhouette of the pants.

Dark eyes peruse your body, lingering on your hands shielding your bare chest, the curve of your lower back and coming back to meet yours.

"Come closer love, I need a better look," he murmurs, reaching out to tug slightly on a belt loop, pulling you to stand between his legs. Large hands grips your waist as he slows drags them down, sliding over your ass until they rest on the back of your thighs.

You feel a bolt of heat through you as you press your legs closer.

"You should try sitting down, to see if you're comfortable."

"Yeah, I'll just- ," you make to move away, but his hands hold you steady.

"I meant sit down here, love."

You swallow, allow him to turn you, and slowly lower yourself on his spread legs, biting your cheek as your naked back comes in contact with his warm chest. His hands pull yours away, and your head falls back on his shoulders as he palms your breasts, pinching at your nipples.

"Comfortable?"

"Yes Kiyo, very."

He continues his ministrations, growing bolder as he plays with your breasts, rolling, tugging and pulling at your nipples until you feel yourself soak through the pants. A hand slides down your stomach, undoing the clasp of your pants and slips in, brushing slightly against your folds.

"So wet love, are you sure you should be like this now? You do have to leave in an hour."

"Fuck, Kiyoomi touch me, please."

Fingers part your folds and you feel the cool metal of his ring press against your clit, as he dips a finger inside. Slowly pushing past your gummy walls, he keeps going until it brushes against a spot that has you whining.

"Kiyo- Kiyo, please just, oh-"

He's moving his other hand upto your mouth now, two fingers pushing past you lips, resting on your tongue.

"Ah, what am I going to do with you? You really shouldn't miss this dinner," he coos, ring now grinding against your clit, making you see stars.

You let out a low moan as he pushes another finger inside you, removing his hand from your mouth and sliding it down to grip your throat. Pressing your throat lightly, he begins fucking you with his fingers, hitting that soft spot continously.

You're so, so close, just on the precipice of coming- when he stops. You whine at the loss, immediately moving your own hands to finish the job when he grabs both of your wrists.

"Now you're going to put on some panties and attend your dinner. If you're a good girl and come back early, I'll tie you up and use you like my personal cocksleeve. Is that okay, my love?"

A smirk graces his marble features, dark eyes glinting playfully. You nod, mouth partly slightly at his words, too turned on to say anything else.

"See you later, then."

*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

this is everything

reiner braun is a man that knows everything! Not some Ivy Leavue scholar or Harvard graduate but he was so smart. He’s the man that could easily identify four different types of cows whilst in passing if you see a pasture full of cows…even when the average person wouldn’t think of such a thing! “Well let’s just say I have a lot of experience..” He’s the man that could hear your car make the slightest sound and tell you what the issue is before you even have time to pop the hood.. “..you know that transmission is gonna go at any time..park that thing until I have time to fix it.” Hell, he could even tell you what a variety of herbal medicines that can be mixed in the event that you can't get to a pharmacy or otherwise. He could look at a plant and tell you if it were poisonous or if it could be useful. “..sorry, I know this stuff seems weird. I grew up on a farm with eight other kids and we were taught real young how ta’ search for herbs and stuff.” But perhaps the thing that he was most knowledgeable on..were all matters pertaining to your body. Sometimes, it seemed as if he knew them better than you knew yourself. He knew the things that made you tick, that turned you on and what made you fall apart in his grasp. Reiner could sense when you were needy..tensing up and whimpering at the slightest touch. He knows that you need to be placed in his lap and fingered slowly..in no rush to go anywhere and taking all the time in the world to bring you to your peak. His fingers bent right at your hilt as he shoved them knuckle deep and pressed that sensitive core. He can sense when you need that pretty little brain shut off and to be brought to a gushing orgasm.. “..keep yer’ legs parted, baby and I promise I’ll take care of you..” and he knows when you’re having a bad day and although he wants to handle you with the utmost care, he knows what you need more than anything, is a rough fuck. To be pounded into the mattress with a hand to the back of your neck and that plump ass ricocheting against him. Making you grasp the sheets and scream his name. Until the only tears you were crying were those of pure pleasure. Begging him to go deeper so that you couldn’t feel anything but him deep within you. Inflicting small amounts of pain in between just to really get you excited. That tightness swelling around him and you leaving all of your frustrations on those silk bed linens in a pool of juices. He knows you’re not going to stop, even if you’re overstimulated so he slows his strokes to a medium pace and lets you ride it out on his cock, for as long as you need to..

“It’s okay, darling. We can take all night if that’s what ya’ want. I always know what’s good for you.”

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.

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. 

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