𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐄𝐗

high for this — happy bday bkg !

— bakugou x kirishima x fem!reader

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

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

☆ WORD COUNT | 12.2K

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

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

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

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ CROSSPOSTED TO AO3 ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bakugou wonders if he deserves that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You fuckin’— agh!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stop bein’ such a damn cock tease.”

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

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

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

“How’s his cock taste, pretty girl?”

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

“Need some help down there?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Agh—!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mmnn… good. But he’s so impatient.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You like sucking dick a lot, too.”

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

“Yeah, I do.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A stunned exhale. “Holy shit…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tch. So fuckin’ soft for this brat.”

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

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

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

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

“Eiji, help me!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Get off me you fuckin’ brute!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Whatever you say.”

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

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

And that seems to make your whole body hot.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just gonna watch, y’little perv?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And Bakugou echoes you, voice hoarse and face pinched.

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

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

“Fuck , Ei—!“

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

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

“Please! Give it to me, please—!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then clean it up.”

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

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

“S-so sensitive—!”

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

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

“Ohhhh— ohmygod fuck!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Happy fuckin’ birthday to me.”

Lending a Hand

Summary: Shoto is thoughtful and solution-oriented when it comes to your pleasure.

Tags: Shoto x f!reader, aged up characters, spanking/impact play, Daddy used as title, d/s dynamics

a/n: @bakubunny remember when i mentioned a dessert?

After so much time together, you were starting to pick up on when Shoto was up to something, but you still could never guess what he had in store for you.

That wouldn't be changing today as you knelt naked on the soft rug in the bedroom, holding your wrists behind your back as Shoto ran his hands down your shoulders and arms before reaching around to grasp your breasts.

"Gorgeous. My perfect girl." He continued with gentle touches and praise to walk you down into the familiar, fuzzy headspace.

Once he's satisfied with the state you're in, he crouches down in front of you, gazing steadily into your eyes as he cups your face in his hand. "I know you've been wanting things to be a little rougher lately," he begins and your eyebrows knit together. He had fucked you quite thoroughly earlier this week; what did he mean?

Seeing your confusion, he continues. "Last month after our impact scene, you said you were more than satisfied. And I believe you. But I just wanted to give you...well. More."

The discussion had been part of your regular check-in regarding punishment and spankings. Shoto had left some delicious bruises on you during your last scene, but you saw how difficult and draining it had been, and held off on asking for it again so soon. You feel your body grow warm with excitement as you start to understand his meaning.

"There's some other things we talked about that I wanted to try today, too, and it may get intense. Remember I love you and we can stop at any time."

He stands up and turns to the doorway, and it's only then you notice that the two of you aren't alone. Your eyes widen in surprise to see Katsuki Bakugo, dressed in form-fitting black and a predatory smile.

The other man is slow in approaching you, giving you plenty of time to voice concern or object. But you stay silent, and soon a gloved hand is grabbing a fistful of hair to force your gaze upwards.

"The bastard is really spoiling ya with this one, eh princess? You sure you can handle such a gift?"

You nod vigorously, adding a "yes sir" when you see Katsuki's eyes begin to narrow.

Before your brain can fully catch up, he's hauled you up by the elbow and is pushing you over the bed, exposing your ass in the process. You lift your head to see Shoto settling across from you against the headboard, stripped down to boxers and clearly hard.

A quick, sharp smack to your right cheek pulls a gasp from you; Katsuki massages into your flesh as he gives you your instructions.

"You're going to count until I tell you stop. Understood?" At your assent, he brings his hand down again. It's harder this time, and by the tenth stroke you're squirming and panting into the sheets. He gives you five more on each cheek and one final smack across both that makes you yelp.

In the pause that follows, Shoto leans down to take your hand in his, using the other one to brush the hair out of your face and pull you into a kiss that's all heat and tongue. You're leaning back to get a breath in when something hard and wooden lands across the tops of your thighs. You would have leaped right off the bed if not for the firm hand now holding you in place.

"That's for not counting the last hit." The sadistic smirk is evident in Katsuki's voice.

"Time for round two, princess," is all the warning you get before he brings the paddle down across your thighs and ass again and again. The rapid succession has your cunt drenched, arousal trickling down your legs as you moan and writhe underneath the assault. You feel Shoto squeeze your hands and press feather-light kisses against your fingertips, and the contrast leaves you dizzy.

The blonde stops again, pulling you up by the hair to meet mismatched eyes.

"Well go on then, tell him how much you're enjoying the present he got you."

"I-I love it Daddy....it's perfect, you're perfect, thank you-"

Katsuki cuts you off with a strong arm around your waist, pulling you up to be flush against him before slapping your breasts with his open palm, occasionally pausing to pinch and pull at your nipples.

Shoto can only stare in awe at how perfect you look, strung out and drooling in need. He had been worried that this would be too much, going too far, but he recognizes this state you're in. He's had the privilege of bringing you to this point before, where you're consumed and ravaged by waves of pleasure.

It takes him a moment to realize that you've been begging for him the entire time he's been staring.

"Tch, don't tell me you're gonna stop spoiling her now, Half and Half." The blonde pushes you roughly back onto the bed towards your lover. You don't have time to process the sting in your breasts before Shoto has you on your back, spreading your legs so he can rest between them. As one hand lines his cock up to your entrance, the other rubs little circles around your clit, the pressure just enough to have you bucking up into his hand.

"So wet for me," he hums before sliding his cock into your folds with one smooth thrust.

"Only-hhn, fuck! Only for you," you agree, the words falling off into moans as Shoto rocks his hips into yours, the light touches gone as he sets a pace just as rough as Katsuki's spanks.

"Are you going to cum for me too, angel? That's it, make a mess all over my cock like a good girl." You whimper, feeling the knot in your stomach wind tighter with every word. He leans down to lick a hot stripe up your neck before biting down, taking satisfaction in knowing it would be your only visible mark.

That final spike of pain and pleasure is all you need to tip over the edge, your whole body shuddering as you cum, hands digging into his back as you do. Shoto's not far behind, and you let out a contented sigh as he carefully pulls out.

He's quick to scoop you into his arms, pulling a sheet across both of you as you snuggle down into his chest. You come back up slowly to the feeling of his hand running through your hair and the sound of a tray being dropped on the bedside table.

You sit up at Katsuki's return, vaguely listening to the men's discussion about lotion and care instructions. As the other man begins to leave, a sudden thought hits you.

"Bakugo, wait." He turns, eyebrows furrowed in an expression unfamiliar to you.

"Did you...uhm. Did you want me to...y'know..." You trail off, suddenly shy.

Katsuki barks a laugh. "Like I'd ever want to be where that bastard's been. I only agreed to this in the first place 'cause there's no way Deku could've managed it." You don't have to look over to know Shoto is also rolling his eyes at the man's posturing.

"Anyway," he adds, much softer, "I've got my own spoiled brat at home I gotta tend to."

He walks out before either of you can respond, leaving you and Shoto to enjoy the afterglow.

⌗︙・best friend pieck listening to u rant about your crush ⸜⸜・

best friend pieck who listens to you rant about your new crush from between your legs.

"we made eye contact." you say, the end of sentence turning into moan as her tongue slides thru your folds. she slurps at your juices, her tongue teasing at your hole.

"you think he's in love with you?" she giggles,, sending vibrations to your clit. you arch your back, but she presses you back down, throwing your legs over her shoulders. pieck buries her face deep into your cunt, licking and sucking on your juices.

"what else?" she asks. she's been your best friend for a long time and she supports all of your crushes. but she wants you to feel good too. pieck knows that none of those boys would be able to satisfy you as good as she does.

"he borrowed my... im about to cum." you whine, making her laugh. two of her digits press against your hole and she pushes the fingers inside of you. she presses them right into your sweet spot, fucking you with them while continuing to suck on your clit.

"pieck oh my god." you moan, cumming on her fingers and her mouth.

"i think he's the right for you, sweets. as long as he lets me fuck you on the weekends."

SAY YOU LOVE ME.

eren yeager | smut, slight fluff, angst if you squint | aristocrat!au

wordcount: 5.8k

content: upper class shenanigans, softdom!eren, fem!reader, oral (receiving), penetration (missionary and doggy), rough sex, pet names (princess, beautiful, etc.), crying, dick drunk reader, daddy kink, eren is a liiiittle pushy and an asshole (just a tiny bit), both of them holding a very weird hatred for each other (idk how else to describe it), unprotected sex (use protection kids)

― synopsis: being the heir of the biggest company in paradis holds it's challenges but no one prepared you for eren yeager

note from pooh: this turned out to be longer than expected lmao, writing smut after a long time is so hard omg i never know what the hell to say, hopefully it's not that obvious. i'm not too happy with it but i'm so over re-writing it at this point hahaha.

WARNING: this is smut, so please ensure you have your age visible on your account. Minors (below 18+), ageless and blank blogs will be BLOCKED

Hope you enjoy ♡

“Oh don’t look so glum,” your mother chastised, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Enjoy yourself my love.” Her diamond earrings glistened in the warm candle light cascading from the chandeliers of the grand ballroom. She was an angelic vision in her lilac dusted gown, the same diamonds as the ones in her ears speckled through the fine fabric like dew on flower petals.

You sighed, sipping from your recently refilled glass of white wine. “Easier said than done.” Your gaze moved with the dancing crowd below you, dots of assorted colours and jewellery, black, white, green, pink. You hadn’t seen him yet.

She chuckled at your seriousness. “Do you really think hiding yourself away up in the balcony is going to solve your problems?”

Yes. “What else am I supposed to do?” You sent her a questioning side glance.

“Oh I don’t know… go down there? Dance? Mingle? God forbid you have fun.” She positions herself at your side against the banister, dress brushing against your own.

Silently you leaned your head on her shoulder, a scent of vanilla and roses floating from her skin. “Is he here?” You whispered as you played with the delicate lace on your sleeves.

“He is.” She replied solemnly, resting her head on top of yours.

Your heart sank as her words solidified your anxiety. Of course he was here, how could he not be?

The man in question was one Eren Yeager, son of Lord Grisha and Lady Carla of Maria. A man who had been a thorn in your side since you were children. Lord Grisha generated his wealth from his medical practices littered across the country, this was valuable to your family, valuable enough to do business with.

Your parents thought it a good idea for you and Eren to become acquainted, being about the same age, maybe something would blossom. Though the only thing that did blossom was the growing hatred between you both. You somehow were always getting on each other’s nerves, so much so that you began to despise him. It started with small childish things, hair pulling, petty fights over trivial topics like who got to have the last of everything, but when you hit adolescence he made it a point to make a snarky comment no matter what you were doing.

“What the hell happened to your face?” He’d scowled at you one afternoon while you lay idly in the grass reading a book. It just so happened to be the same day your mother decided you were old enough to start wearing makeup.

You threw him an irritated look. “It’s makeup.”

“Your mother let you leave the house looking like that?” His shadow covers your face as he leans over you curiously, running a finger along your cheek.

“Piss off Eren!” He laughs as you throw your book at his face, easily dodging the hardback.

It was even worse as you came of age to actually date. He somehow managed to wriggle his way in and meddle with all your potential suitors, spreading rumours, interrupting dances and private conversations. There was a time everyone believed you’d slept with all of your father’s business partners, of course it wasn’t true but that didn’t stop your parents from losing their minds over the allegations. Your reputation was an important one, it was make or break in this dog-eat-dog world you were born into. You never really did find out who or where that rumor came from, but you had a funny feeling Eren had something to do with it.

“Maybe he’ll behave himself now that he’s in public.” Your mother continued.

“Fine I’ll go, but if he says anything out of turn...” You looked to her, finding no trace of disapproval, just her soft features watching sway of dresses below.

“You’ll be fine.” She shifts to stand upright again before kissing your temple. “What’s the worst that could happen?” She smiles, disappearing through the curtain draped over the entryway of the balcony.

Sighing, you down the last of your wine and readjust the bust of your dress, smoothing over the lace that hung off your shoulders, dress twinkling in the light like stars at dusk. With a deep breath you found your way to the staircase that led onto the ballroom floor, hesitating at the top as you watched a parade of colour flutter by. You had yet to see Yeager, you reassured yourself. And hopefully you’d go the whole night without the misfortune of running into him. As you began your decent your mother’s words echoed through your mind one last time.

What was the worst that could happen?

Foreign and familiar faces welcomed you with curtseys and bows of reverence while you walked through the crowd, head held high and a bright smile on your face, greeting your family’s many business partners.

Being the heir to one of the largest companies in all of Paradis held a lot of responsibility, the primary one, being the picturesque daughter your father sought you out to be. Proper, intelligent and scandal-free. Something that was already hard to do in a sea of people who fed off of gossip.

“Lady y/n.” A kindly voice pulled you from your thoughts. “Could I interest you in a dance?” Jean Kirstein - the newest addition to your fathers growing list of associates- greeted you coyly with a hand outstretched in invitation.

You gave a half-smile “Of course.”

He was a handsome man to say the least, with tussled blond hair and a smile that had butterflies churning in your stomach. His suit was a classic black and white three piece, a teal tie bringing a pop of colour that complimented his alluring hazel eyes.

With one hand in yours and the other securely on your waist, he whisked you out onto the dance floor, taking the lead as he began moving you in time with the music. His gentle gaze never left yours as you floated across the floor effortlessly, touch warm against your hips that he guided in a rhythm that met his own.

“You’re quite good at this aren’t you?” Your playful expression made him chuckle.

“Of course my lady,” he replied, spinning you before continuing. “I had to make a good first impression didn’t I?”

The tempo rose with the changing routine and it was time to switch partners. He laid a soft kiss on your hand before releasing you in another spin, a laugh bubbling in your chest as you landed in the arms of your next partner.

“Good to see you’re enjoying yourself my lady,” your smile faltered as you looked up to see the face of the man you’d so desperately tried to avoid all night. “Don’t look so upset, frowning was never a good look on you?” A smirk hung on his lips as he towered over your smaller frame, loose hairs framing his face as he pinned you with mischievous eyes.

“What are you doing here, Eren?” You spat, feeling your skin tingle where his touch slowly made its way down the small of your back.

A huff left his chest. “I was sent an invitation? Why were you hoping I wouldn’t come?”

“Yes,” you retort. “I was hoping for a night of peace.”

He extended an arm and spun you in place, then roughly pulled you back into his chest. “You and I both know that’s never going to happen.” There was a knowing undertone in his voice, a tone that you knew always held bad intentions.

“Why must you always ruin my night?” You carped, trying your best to maintain your composure. There were too many important people around for you to make a scene and not face the consequences, but the longer he spoke the closer he was to pushing you there.

He dipped you low and your gaze caught Jean’s, who smiled at you softly while dancing with a women in red. How you yearned to be back in his arms again.

“So you and Kirstein? What’s that about?” Eren nodded to the man in question as he brought you back up again. Your breath nearly left you with how close his lips were to your own, too distracted by that fact you didn’t even register his question.

“What?” Your brows furrowed at him as you took a step back to put some distance between you.

He met you with an icy expression. “Are you and Jean...an item?” He pressed, voice faltering at the end as if it pained him to even say those words. Why did he care?

“No, he’s an associate of my father’s, why does it matter?” You answered honestly, unconsciously moving your hand from his shoulder to his chest, running your index finger over the key shaped pin on his jacket collar.

“You seem awfully fond of someone who cleans horse shit for a living.” You catch him glance over his shoulder to where you could only assume Jean stood, not missing the irritation in his voice.

“He does not,” your hand smacks his chest. “He runs the biggest transport company in the country, horses are just one of his divisions.”

Eren rolls his eyes at your defensiveness. “Oh so you do like him. I didn’t know you enjoyed the smell of horse shi-”

The song comes to an end and you break away from him before you do something you’d regret. You opened your mouth and closed it again, fist balling at your side as everything you ever wanted to say became stuck in your throat. For all the belittling, the mocking and the embarrassment, you wanted to let him have it, but something held you back. Your tongue was stiff as he watched you with an inscrutable expression, waiting for you to break.

Instead your face softens, an equally unreadable expression etched upon your features. “Thank you for the dance Eren, good evening.” You said simply, giving a final curtsey before turning your back to him, you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction.

With a hastened pace you pushed your way through the sea of guests, odd looks cast your way as you haphazardly bumped into a server holding champagne, making you lose your balance. The glasses clattered to the floor with a loud shatter, most of it spilling on your dress in the commotion as you landed on your hands and knees in the liquid. The crowd around you gasped and sneered, encircling your distressed figure, on the floor, apologetic and frantically searching for an exit. You saw Eren among them, a taunting glint in his eyes, as if he enjoyed seeing you like this. Beneath him.

You were mortified.

“Y/n! Are you alright?” Jean’s voice broke your fixed gaze. The man knelt down to help you up, taking his hand in yours. To his surprise you tore your hand from his, offered him a pained smile and curtsied half-heartedly.

“Excuse me.” You choked before speeding up the staircase, uncaring of the array of murmurs and snickers that followed your abrupt and dramatic exit.

This was his fault, Eren fucking Yeager. You cursed as your feet blistered in the tall heels you’d been wearing the whole night, reduced to hobbling down the long hallway, body stick and damp from alcohol. This was the worst that could happen, you thought. As if being ridiculed wasn’t enough he had to go and add insult to injury with his stupid fucking face mocking you from the crowd.

Was this his plan? To rile you up so much that you’d slip up in front of everyone that was important to you? To your family?

“Fucking Yeager!” You growl, stepping into your room and slamming your door shut behind you. You began pulling pins from your hair tossing them onto your vanity in frustration, strands falling over your shoulders as you kicked off your shoes in the process. You were done with this evening, with everyone and everything associated with it.

As you finally tore the last pin from your hair you heard a knock at your door. “I’m not accepting guests at this time!” You called out, frustrated with the ties on your dress. There was silence, then another knock. “Go away!” A string of curses fall from your lips as your fingers continue to slip against the silky fabric. “This couldn’t possibly get any worse.” You sigh. Then you heard your door open. “I said go away-!”

The source of your fury stood leant against the door frame, an arrogant aura emanating from his figure as he watched you struggle to undress. “How unladylike-”

The shoes you had discarded on the floor found their way into your hands and you aimed for his head, disappointed as he narrowly dodged object. “Get out!” You glowered at him, other shoe in hand ready to throw.

He gave you an incredulous look, smoothing the loose strands on his forehead displaced due to evading your attack. “Are you insane?!” He shouts, picking up the shoe you’d just tossed at his face.

You threw the other shoe, this time at his groin, to which again he narrowly dodged. “Have you not had enough of making a fool of me today? You had to come up here to see your work first hand?” You’d given up on your calm façade, letting your emotions spill as you saw fit in the privacy of your room.

“You’re blaming me for that disaster?” He brayed, both of your shoes now in his palms.

“Of course this is your fault!” You spat callously. “The constant degrading, the fucking agony you put me through every event. You love to humiliate me every chance you get! And for what? Your own twisted sense of humour?” Your chest heaved as you found yourself mere inches from him, breast almost against his in your fit of rage, defeated tears spilling down your flushed cheeks.

You hated to cry, especially in front of Eren but at this point you couldn’t think of anything else to do. The pained attempt to stop the tears from falling ended in hundred more flooding out, you couldn’t bottle it all up anymore, not this time.

Silence filled the room, save your shallow shaky breathes and his deep ones. His face was once again unreadable, eyes scouring yours, for what you didn’t know. Abandoning your shoes on the floor, his hand brushed a stray lock of hair that curled at your collarbone, grazing the skin there as his now softened gaze lowered to your lips, then back to your watery-eyed glare. The touch set goosebumps upon your skin as he continued up your neck to your jaw, wiping a thumb over your tear stained cheek.

“Let me make it better.” He breathed onto your lips, pleading eyes piercing into yours. His thumb traced your bottom lip tenderly, time slowing as his lips met yours. He walked you backward further into your bedroom by your hips, closing the door behind him with an audible sound that reverberated off the hinges. His hand shifted to caress the back of your neck, pulling you into him further to deepen the kiss, moulding against your lips as he used his other hand to loosen the knot in the ties of your dress.

When the back of your knees hit your bed you parted, out of breath and thinking bit clearly. “Eren,” you sighed, forehead against his as your breathing fell in time with one another. “Please, we-” He places a kiss on your cheek, turning you around to have better access to the back of your dress.

“Shh.” He whispers. His fingers pry the ties free and from their loops and he watches your body visibly relax, finally released from the confines of the material. Softly he pulls the fabric from your arms and down your waist till it became a pool of colour on the carpeted floor. His jacket and tie join it as he flicked the first few buttons of his shirt open to expose the tanned expanse of his chest.

You felt oddly vulnerable in your underwear, even if this wasn’t the first time he’d seen you this way, his gaze still painted a flush upon your skin. Instinctually your arms came up to cover your bare chest, breasts almost spilling from between them.

He chuckles, neck lowering to plant a kiss on your shoulder as he smooths a hand over your stomach. “I’ve seen you like this plenty of times but you still hide from me.”

His fingers played with the waistband of your panties mindlessly, lips continuing their way up your shoulder. The heat of his touch has your mind going fuzzy, losing yourself in the way his hands trailed over your skin, familiar with every mark, every crevasse, every curve your body had to offer. Your lips part in a gasp as he bites into the soft flesh of your neck, sucking a dark bruise into the skin. “I’ll never get tired of seeing you like this.”

He turns you back around to face him, pushing you onto the mattress softly. His hips nestle between your thighs as his body envelops yours, pressing his hard-on against your clothed pussy.

“Eren.” With a sigh your hips squirm beneath his, attempting ease the arousal rapidly pooling at your core.

“Yes, sweetheart?” You lose your voice at the way his mouth paths down your collarbone, laving marks into the depths of your skin. His hands find yours still covering your chest and pries them away, entwining your fingers to pin your hands above your head. Beneath his intense gaze the flush on your skin deepened, struggling to keep still while your heart threatened to beat out of your chest. He looked like he wanted to devour you.

“Y/n.” He whispers mindlessly against your skin. Before you could answer him a gasp caught in your throat as his tongue encircled your nipple. He released your hands to cup your tits, rolling the other bud between his thumb and forefinger. “Keep them there.”

Your back arched unconsciously, rubbing yourself against his cock — still uncomfortably strained against the zipper of his trousers — causing a deep groan to sound from his throat, the sound alone making your clit throb.

“Fuck, Eren.” Digging your nails into your palms you struggled to keep them above your head, as you whined. It was embarrassing the amount of power he had over you, the way a simple flick of his tongue birthed an impossible ache between your thighs. After doing this with him for this long you’d think it’d have worn off by now.

“That’s it beautiful, say my name.” He coos, continuing his assault down to your thighs. His fingers curl around your panties and guide them down your legs, letting it join your dress on the floor.

A breathy moan escaped you as he wastes no time drawing a long strip from your entrance to your your clit, moaning at the way your arousal danced on his tongue. Pushing your thighs apart he did it again, dipping his tongue into you this time to gage your reaction.

Those sweet sounds he craved for weeks finally fell freely from your lips, like music to his ears. He drank in every gasp and every whimper as your head lulled back and your back arched, still obeying his instruction as your fingers dug into the bedsheets.

His cock twitched as you began rocking your hips into his face, matching the pace of his tongue fucking into your dripping cunt. How did he always end up here? Back in this position, on his knees, between your legs, savouring the way you tasted like it was the last time he’d ever get to experience it. How tightly did you have him wound around your finger? Pretty damn tight apparently. As much as he tried to deny it, push you away with insults, humiliation and bickering he always found himself here, worshiping your pussy.

He hated you for it.

“’Ren, please. Please, please, please, fuck.” Your thighs strained against his hold, trembling as you continued fucking his face.

Fuck, he could listen to you beg forever. “What do you want princess?” He asked in a husky tone, planting tender a kiss on your inner thigh. His eyes were glazed over, a deeper green than they were on the dancefloor. Fingertips ghosted your entrance as he waited for your reply, his breath on your clit making you clench around nothing.

“I need you... I need you inside me, please.” You panted desperately.

“Shit,” he mutters under his breath as you open your legs wider for him. “Look how wet you are.” The way your arousal dripped down your ass and onto the sheets made his mouth water, the view never got old. Reluctantly pulling away from you he finally rids himself of his clothes, sighing softly as he finally freed his cock from the confines of his pants.

The sight had your mind reeling. He reminded you of an art piece, like marble where the finest detail was carved to perfection. His skin glowed in the candle light, glistening in a thin veil of sweat with your arousal still on his lips — rosy and plush. Muscles pulsed as he reached behind his head to pull the band in his hair, freeing a cascade of long dark hair onto his back and shoulders.

He hovers over you, lips ghosting yours as he guides his cock through your folds with a hiss. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“I’d hope so.” You reply with a cheeky grin, laying a kiss on his chin.

You yelp as his hand slaps your ass harshly, the sound reverberating off the walls. There was a handprint now burning red on your ass. “What was that for?” You hiss, trying to move your hips away but find them pinned to the mattress under his weight.

He bites your neck in reply. “For being rude.”

“Oh piss off.” He raises a warning brow as you roll your eyes.

Again he smacks your ass as punishment, this time harder in the same place. “Do that one more time, see what happens.”

The sting of your ass seemed to have clouded your judgement as you proceeded to take him up on that challenge. “Fuck yo-!”

Before you could finish your rebuttal he shoves his cock into you without warning, completely filling you to the hilt. Your hands find his shoulders instinctively, embedding crescent shaped marks into his skin. The sound you made was a mix between a gasp and a moan, both in shock and pleasure at the sudden intrusion.

“I’m sorry what were you saying?” Eren chuckles beside your ear, smirk evident in his tone.

A shaky breath leaves your chest. “I hate you.” You grumble in reply, the words coming out breathier than intended.

He shifts to rest his forehead against yours, a shit-eating grin still on his face. “If you hate me so much…” The pause is met with a harsh thrust of his hips, sending another moan tumbling from your lips. “Then why am I the only one that’s able to have you like this?” Your breath hicks as he repeats the same action, nose brushing his as he moved.

You didn’t have a real answer, it’s not like you didn’t seek sex from other partners, you did, but none of them could compare to the man before you. There was something comforting in how he knew your body inside and out, your expressions, the way your skin flushed under his touch, every moan and stutter. You trusted him with your body as he did you with his, but in doing so it fed into an addiction, one that could only be satisfied by Eren.

“Who said you were the only one?” You teased back.

His breath hit your nose as he huffed out a laugh. “No one can make you feel the way I do. Admit it.”

It was your turn to laugh. “Don’t flatter yourself. Anyone can do what you do, you’re not special.”

“Oh really?” His cock twitches inside of you, hips moving at an agonisingly slow pace. “Like who?”

“O-others, why do you need to know?” You stutter out, unable to draw a realistic name from the top of your head.

“I’d like to know who my competition is. That is if they even exist.” Your skin tingles as his nose traces the curve on your cheek. Eren knew exactly what that stutter meant. You were a liar. But that didn’t make going along with it any less entertaining.

“Of course they exis- fuck!” Pleasure overwhelms you as he hits a familiar spot, fingers playing with your clit as he continued his strokes.

“Mmm.” He groans against your cheek. “You know how much I hate lies y/n.” His pace doesn’t let up as he speaks, fingers and cock moving in time with one another, a sweet harmony that had you struggling to maintain your fragile composure.

“I’m not-”

Spank.

“Stop lying to me sweetheart,” he warns again upping the pressure on your clit. “Who’s the only one who can make you feel like this?” You could barely think, let alone speak as he continued his ministrations. Your pussy was a sopping mess, so much so that the lewd sound of your wet cunt taking his cock was audible with every delicious stroke.

Your breath fanned against his neck, hot and fast between moans and whines. The longer this went on the quicker your resolve dissipated and soon you were at his mercy. “You ‘Ren, it’s you.”

“I’m sorry?” He smiles, leaning his ear to your lips. “Say it again I don’t think I heard you.”

“Fuck, you’re the only one who can make me feel like this ‘Ren.” You repeat begrudgingly between breaths.

“Good girl.” With a kiss to your cheek he leans back on his heels, letting his cock slip out of you. “Turn over for me.”

Obediently you flip over on your hands and knees, chest brushing the mattress as you position your ass in the air. You feel him move over you, watching as he retrieves two pillows at the head of the bed to place under your hips, to which you happily lay on.

His hands slip themselves into the crease where your hips met your thighs, memorising the way your back arched in this position. He proceeds to run his thumbs over the small of your back, parallel to your spine before his grip tightens slightly and he’s pushing your hips into the pillows. Slowly he eases into you, moaning at the way your pussy engulfed him eagerly, tightening as inch by inch he drew deeper.

"Holy fuck, ‘Ren!” You cry, nails clawing the sheets. It was like he was in your stomach, if that was even possible.

His tongue paths it’s way up your spine, leaving spaced open mouth kisses on your skin till he reaches your ear. “Does that feel good princess?”

You could only moan in response, heavy breaths wafting your hair that had fallen over your face. He wasn’t even moving but he still managed to turn your brain to mush.

With a chuckle he pecks your shoulder. “I can’t hear you.”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?” His hip shift slightly, drawing a string of whines from your throat. “I want to hear you say it.”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Mhm.” The weight of his body leaves yours as he sits back up, pausing to give your ass a squeeze. “And what if move like this?” His hips draw back slowly before pushing back into you with a force that almost knocked the breath out of you. “That feel good to baby?”

“Yes, fuck it feels so good daddy.”

That was all the confirmation he needed to let go and fuck you into the bed the way he knew you loved. Hard and rough. Using your back as leverage he pressed into your skin, grip tight around your waist as he watched your ass ripple with every slap of his hips against your own.

You were so damn intoxicating it wasn’t even a joke anymore. There were days he’d actually miss this, miss you. Your face, your scent, your taste, how your pussy felt as it squeezed him at every inch, it was like you were made for him and vice versa. He’d never actually tell you any of that though.

This wasn’t love. It was sex, reoccurring mind blowing sex.

“Fuck, yes, yes, yes, yes!” By the way your toes curled he knew he was hitting that sweet spot along your walls. Satisfaction swelled in his chest at your cock drunk form scrunching the sheets between your fingers, losing your voice in the pleasure surging through your body.

“That’s it sweetheart.” Cooing, he slows his pace to pin your hands behind your back, trapping your wrists in one hand and using the other to play with your clit. “You love this dick don’t you?”

Mindlessly you reply. “Yes daddy, so deep in my pussy.” At this point you would say anything, do anything if he asked you to. With the way his dick kissed that spot inside you over and over it was hard not to lose yourself, to let your eyes roll back and just take it.

“You feel so good princess, fuck you take me so well.” He looks down to where your bodies met, almost cumming at the sight of you creaming all over his cock. Your nails were digging into the back of his hand that still pinned your hands to the small of your back, grip tightening as your thighs tensed.

“I’m gonna cum, I-I’m gonna cum.” You whine with a hick.

“Cum for me, sweetheart. Cum all over this dick.” He wasn’t going to be able to hold back much longer as you grew tighter with each passing stroke, but he needed you to cum first, he needed to watch you come undone on his cock.

“Eren!” You hold onto his hand for dear life as you fall over the edge, your whole body tightening as Eren fucks you through your orgasm, fingers still softly caressing your clit.

“Good girl, that’s it.” He praises, out of breath, soon following with his own high. White hot ropes of cum painted your insides as a variation of your name fell from his lips in an incoherent mess. Normally he’d never be caught dead cumming inside if it was any one else but because it was you he bent that rule.

You groan softly as your body grew heavy, sinking into the soft mattress. Almost ready to pass out then and there you feel Eren shuffle behind you, moaning as his cock slides against your walls, slowly drawing from your warmth.

He falls onto his back beside you with a sigh. “Come here.”

“Mmm.” You groan, still fucked out and limp with flattened pillows under your hips probably damp with his cum as you felt it leak from your hole.

He clicks his tongue and pulls you forward effortlessly by your arm, cradling you in his side. There was a long silence as you both lay there listening to the rhythm of each others breaths, content in the comfort you had both built after months of this routine.

When all this first began you refused to even look at each other after the fact, getting dressed and leaving the room immediately. But one drunken night when you woke up to find him still there beside you, arm around your waist and pulled into his chest, you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away. It soon became normal for you to lay like this, naked and vulnerable, listening to his heart beat.

“You okay?” He questions, still looking up at the ceiling.

“Tired.” You sigh softly. Your fingers traced the grooves of his chest, circling his pectoral mindlessly.

He exhales heavily. “Feel better?”

With a chuckle you trail your finger down his abdomen. “A little.”

The look he throws you has your smile grow wider. “Only a little?” He turns on his side, resting his head on his hand. “Still lying to me.”

“Gonna have to try a little harder than that, Yeager.” Teasingly you tap his nose, laughing at the way he frowns at your simple gesture.

He caresses your face with his free hand, running a thumb over your rosy lips. “You really think I don’t know you after all these years?” The question was longing, like he was reminiscing every encounter you two ever had.

“I didn’t think you paid that much attention after all these years.” You roll your eyes playfully.

“I’m observant.”

“You’re a nuisance.” You corrected, but despite your insult the smile never left your face.

“You love me.” The rebuttal caught you off guard, unsure if he was joking or not as his tone remained serious.

“Are you drunk, Yeager? Why would I ever love you?”

His face draws toward yours knowingly. “You wouldn’t still be here if you didn’t.”

“I-I could say the same for you.” You deflect, gesturing to his figure.

Did he really want to admit his feelings for you, after having pushed them down for so long? Did he even have feelings for you? When he saw you on the dancefloor for the first time tonight his stomach erupted in a flutter of butterflies. Not to mention when he watched the way you smiled and laughed with Jean. Who the fuck was he anyway? Some cooperate kiss-ass who shoveled shit for a living. Transport, what was Jean’s transport company compared to the medical empire Eren was managing? Is that what impressed you? What you liked? He followed the way Jean’s hands glided along your body, like he knew where to touch you, how to make you…

“Eren.” Your soft voice breaks him from deep thought. You look at him with those eyes you do, the ones that somehow manage to break his resolve every time.

“Let’s get you to a bath.” He smiles at you sadly, laying a kiss in your forehead and getting up from the bed. His fingers rake through dishevelled hair before offering you an outstretched hand.

You witnessed the way his green eyes dulled as they bore into yours sullenly. His expression was placid, unreadable as it always was when he decided to shut you out, an action you’d become all too familiar with as you came back to the reality of the situation.

Not wanting to question him on it you take his hand. “Lead the way.”

© poohbea, all rights reserved. DO NOT copy, reupload or modify my work to other accounts and platforms. if you intend to translate any of my works please ask permission first ♡

cherry waves / hayakawa aki

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

cherry waves - deftones

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

pairing: hayakawa aki x fem!reader

word count: 6.1k

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

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

Aki is undeniably, wholeheartedly in love with you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You hum around his fingers in response. 

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

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

"I need you too. Please."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah, yeah. I'm okay." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

𝟒:𝟓𝟎 𝐏𝐌 | 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒

cw. f!reader, c. somno, pussyjob, creampie

belphie can already feel his cock throbbing under his pants when he finds you napping in his bed.

you’re all curled up on yourself, his t-shirt you’re wearing is lifted over your ass leaving a good glimpse of your panties.

he couldn’t help himself. he had been thinking all morning about your nice tight pussy and now that you are serving it to him directly on his bed he can’t help but take advantage of it.

his boxers fall at his feet quickly. he didn’t like the thought of waking you up, he wanted to let you rest but the need to slide inside you was too strong.

his cock throbs as he presses it against your covered cunt and rubs it back and forth. his eyes roll back as a soft moan escapes from your lips.

his lips cling to your neck. belphie sucks your soft skin from behind your ear to your shoulders, hoping this will help stifle his desperate moans.

belphie’s hand runs from your side to your breast. he gropes it firmly and squeezes his index and thumb over your nipple, “you’re so good,” he whispers in your ear.

Keep reading

PLAY WITH ME, JEAN.

   ITS foul when he purposefully speeds up the pace of his hips when he knows Eren is passing by the dark room only illuminating blue LED lights, giving you no chance but to moan louder, unable to help it. What if he left that crack in the door on purpose? Most likely, he did. And, he did. An obvious sign that he wanted Eren to realize he's the one that gets to fuck you, make you cum—not him.

"Did you see the look on Levi's face when I hit that touch down?" Reiner commented, popping a few skittles in his mouth and forming a wide smirk. "He was pissed as fuck."

"Too fucking bad, he needed a taste of his own medicine," Connie chuckles, retrieving the blunt from his hand before taking a puff out of it himself.

"Yo, Eren! What we doing here, man?" Connie shouted out, waiting for him to reply before he emerged back into the basement, a big white box in his hand. "What's that?"

"Anybody up for a game?" He had asked, everyone's attention on him.

"Depends on what it is."

"There's this game I bought online, right. It's underground, meaning that it's probably fucking illegal. It's limited players, only two at a time so we have to take turns. I figured we should test it out."

"What's it called?" Reiner asks.

"Stay Alive."

"So it's a scary game then, seriously? Did you test it out at least, like for yourself?" Connie hopped in, fixing the beanie on his head.

"Nah, I just said we could all test it out." Eren rolled his eyes.

"So basically you were too much of a pussy to see what this game was actually about?" Connie snickered, snatching the black case away from him, noticing that it didn't have a picture, just a black and red disc.

"I wasn't, though."

"I'm suppose to believe that?"

"Shut the fuck up. We playing this or not?" Eren raises his brow, eyes lingering over to your presence, watching you completely zone out into the dimmed screen of your phone, legs bunched up to your chest as you tried to contain the grin on your face, biting your lip and giggling quietly. You hear Eren clear his throat before saying your name, "y/n?"

"Mhm?" You hurriedly slap your phone face down on your thigh, looking up at him with attentive eyes. Eren squints at you, his eyes traveling over to an unusually quiet Jean who sat across the room from you on a bean bag chair directly facing you, his legs spread which he shifted in and out, taking a swig out of a bottle of E&J, eyes glued to his phone just like you were.

"Oh, the game? I'm good, I'm just gonna smoke and watch you guys," you smile.

Eren then asks Jean, who proceeds to give him the same answer. "I'm good, man. Maybe later."

Eren grows slightly annoyed when your attention flys right back to your phone, unaware of the scowl on his face as you smile at your screen, a new message popping up.

jean

better stop making it obvious before they find out.

you

I don't care.

jean

you should. you know who has a thing for you.

you

who? eren?

jean

no, connie. who else?

you

we're just friends.

jean

he looks at you the same way I do.

you

how do you look at me?

jean

don't pretend you don't know.

you

tell me.

jean

come here and I'll show you instead.

You peak your head over your phone, hiding your smile with the object as you watch Jean's dark eyes burn into your face, whispering 'no' to him. He chuckles, mouthing, 'come here' and using his finger to call you over, a seductive grin plastered on his face. Your face felt hot, your legs tempting you to walk over to him right now. Neither of the guys could see you two since you sat far behind them. They had chairs pulled up to the wide projector screen, backs turned to you as they laughed and smoked, the harsh clicks of buttons on their controllers sounding the area of Eren's mancave other than the low tone of R&B music.

All of you made it to Eren's after a homecoming game, celebrating a win since all the guys were on the team, Reiner being the captain and scoring the final touchdown. Even though the guys were here, Eren wanted to spend time with you the most. Unfortunately, you were too busy entertaining Jean to notice. As he played the game, he repeatedly side-eyed the two of you, purposely turning his chair slightly to the side to watch. Jealously formed in his chest as he sees you stand to your feet and make your way over to Jean, crouching next to him on your knees and snatching the bottle of liquor from his hand with a smirk, chugging some down as Jean leans forward to hover his lips over the center of your neck, breath hitting your skin. You flinch and giggle, leaning back, nearly falling before his arm wraps around your waist and pulls you onto his lap.

Clearly, Eren had feelings for you for quite some time, and they grew the longer time passed. You kind of guessed it since he was super touchy and protective over you, and Eren started to take the hint that you wanted to remain friends since you never made a move or responded back to his flirtatious actions. Seeing you with Jean was a different level of hatred. He didn't necessarily like Jean. Sure, he invited him over and always hung out with the rest of the crew, but that was only because of you and them. He had small interactions with him and that was it. Did he dislike Jean because of your feelings for him? Only fifty percent.

You and Jean never spoke a word about your relationship. It wasn't anyone's business to begin with, but, your small friend group grew curious. Connie and Reiner already made assumptions that the two of you were fucking, they also knew Eren liked you, but it's not like they could force you to like him back. You never felt that way about him. As gut-wrenching as it would be to say to Eren's face—you only thought of him as a brother.

   It was something that happened based on curiosity and the persuasion of weed. One night when Connie threw a party at his place, you and Jean hung out on the patio talking about anything and everything. Until the conversation of sex popped up, and neither of you were taken off guard. You both thought the same, and that's all you wanted. You added your contact in his phone and from that point on the two of you talked—more like sexted.

Both of you were incredibly busy, so you never had time to go through with the things you told one another. The things he said he would do to you, how he'd touch you, have you crying his name, begging him to fuck you—and so much more you couldn't even fathom. The sexual attraction was insane, making your bodies throb whenever you were around each other. He wanted you just as badly as you wanted him. It was torture almost, listening to him groan and whimper over a phone screen as he fucked his hand and praised you while you cried and pressed your vibrator to your clit, moaning his name.

You couldn't count how many times you FaceTimed each other just to get off. The desperation heightened the longer the two of you were apart. Jean went to a different college, so it was a miracle whenever he would come around to see you on campus. But whenever he did, you were usually around the guys, or Eren, so there was never any alone time. Jean picked up on Eren's vibe toward him. His obvious looks of 'back off' when he was next to you, playing this as some sort of rivalry when Eren had no clue that you were practically ready to climb on Jean's face before his.

Eren clenches his jaw as he ties his hair up into a messy bun, aggressively bouncing his leg and knocking down two more shots, turning his back entirely, having enough of what he was seeing. Connie and Reiner were too high to pay attention, screaming at one another as loud gunshots from the game rings in their ears. Jean has his wide hands flat on your stomach as you inch your face closer to his, his thigh inching up to hide the reflection of his hand pulling the zipper to your jeans down. Your hand wraps around his wrist, eyes interlocked as his long fingers slide into your panties, pressing two flat on your aching clit.

A moan you let out makes Jean grab the back of your head to grip your hair out of surprise, brows arching as you shift your hips and weakly mewl his name between his neck, coming closer and throwing your arm over his shoulder, nails scratching at his back. Your thighs clench, applying more pressure on your clit as he rubs circles dangerously slow. Jean grows harder in his briefs obnoxiously barricading his throbbing cock.

"Keep doing that and see what happens, dollface," Jean grins. The two of you try to be as quiet as possible, Jean glancing over to see that they were all still distracted with the game, reaching his hand down your jeans to grip your ass, bringing you close and smoothing his hand up and down your clothed thigh. You whine pathetically, locking your lips with his, the two of you sloppily kissing, rushing your tongue over each other's desperately, lips smacking.

"I got you wet like this? That easily?" Jean breathes, humming as your mouth drops and you grip onto his shirt, wrinkling the fabric in your fist the moment he dips his thick fingers inside you and curls them upward, massaging that spot perfectly.

"J-Jean, let's go upstairs," you begged, grabbing his forearm to stop his movements.

"Can't hold back anymore?" He licks his lips.

"Fuck no," you whisper, giggling afterwards. Jean slowly pulls his fingers from you, slipping them into his mouth while staring you dead in your eyes, his own fluttering.

   "Let's go."

"Wait, let me go first. Wait fifteen minutes," you say, standing to your feet and fixing yourself. Jean clears his throat, watching your hips sway as you begin to walk away, trying to hide the erection in his pants.

"Ay! Where you goin'?" Connie catches you, your flustered appearance well-known as you turn your head to see him and Eren staring at you.

"Bathroom. Lady issues," you respond quickly.

"Bring me a beer on your way back, yeah?" Connie pouts. You smile adorably.

"Gotcha."

   Next thing you know, you’re locked beneath the man you’ve practically been begging to fuck forever. He already has you near done. Coming up the stairs moment after you and meeting you in this dark room, laying on his back and letting you take control of his face you fucked just like you daydreamed of doing. Eren's footsteps are eerily prominent, droplets leaking from your eye sockets from the unbearable pleasure radiating throughout your entire body. Knowing he’s outside that door makes Jean throw his head back and pound into you harder, until you’re squelching around his cock and you memorize the feeling of him throbbing deep inside you. When you raise your hand to cover your mouth, trying your best to shield your moans out of embarrassment, Jean instantly snatches it away and pins it above your head.

   "You think because someone walked by, you can stop screaming my name?" Jean slams harder, knocking the breath out of you, your nails clawing at his lower back the harder he fucks you, trying to keep your grip on him. "Louder, baby."

Fuck, you can’t. Eren could still be listening. How do you know it’s him? Who else would be irritated enough to follow the two of you and see what you were doing. Either way, it was too late to hide what was going on. It’s disrespectful to say the least. You’re getting fucked dumb by a man he despised in his own home, on his parents’ bed while his best friends are downstairs. Part of you didn’t care, the other half felt a little guilty. Though, he makes it worth the risk. The way he has your thighs spread apart, pinning them to the bed while he works his cock into you with steady rolls of his hips, letting you feel every vein, every throb, that perfect curve that hit just the right spot.

The lights suffice as he hovers above you more, eyelashes sticking together, drool sitting at the side of your blabbering mouth. You wouldn’t shut up. Not that he wanted you to, and definitely your lack of ability to do so. All those months of talking and you knew he’d live up to your expectations. He wasn’t a bullshitter. He told you he’d fuck you good, and he is.

   "Hm? What's my name, princess?” Jean runs his tongue over your lips, humming with an arched brow, waiting.

   "Jean," you gasp, biting your lip as you tremble, already on the verge of cumming. He reaches between where you two meet, pressing his thumb against your sopping clit and rolling as he holds you down, knees completely flat to the bed as drills into you. Your toes curl, your eyes scroll back, and your arch riding higher.

   "That's fuckin' right, baby,” Jean licks his lips, lowering his lips by your ear. “Let him know so it’s real.”

By betrayal of your own body, you move your hips with his each time he grounds his cock deeper, clit stimulated against his bare pelvis. He’s disappeared completely inside of you. Although Jean had a foul mouth, at the same time he managed to praise you, still being gentle with you even after tossing you around. Soft kisses to your temple, stroking the side of your thigh, asking if you’re okay. He was the sweetest. Yet that same man switched like a light the more he stayed inside you, your legs locking him still as you shake beneath him. Whimpering out his name, his breath on your neck and ears, sensitive areas that only made you wetter.

“You’re cumming for me, dollface?” Jean sets his face back in front of yours, staring you down as he salaciously locks his lips with your own, swallowing down your lustful noises and becoming one.

“Yes,” the sound of your voice is unrecognizable. Astonished with yourself. Jean chuckles, ringing in your ears.

“I’m cumming for you too, baby,” he’s groaning louder, hips becoming sloppy as he thrusts lazily, maintaining that roughness. He pants, your clit pulsating when you witness him dropping his mouth open once his eyes twitch. “See how fast you got me there? You’re so fucking sexy.”

eren loves to eat your sweet little pussy after a long day at work, he barges into your bedroom and leaps onto the bed, immediately taking his shirt off and working on your pants

"e-eren, what are you doing?" you'd ask as you're left in only your panties, he rips them off to see your swollen cunt throbbing for help

he is pissed. so fucking pissed off at his dumbass job, he needs to get rid of his pent-up stress and your pretty little pussy is his stress ball

he dives right in, your hands wrapped around his hair suffocating him into your cunt -his tongue is going over every edge, every slit, every hole you have.

you scream as he sloppily makes out with your pussy, hands gripping into your plush thighs to hold them up for him, he stops and kisses your clit to suck on your pussy lips to let your abused cunt rest for a minute - cherish it, it's your only break

you're humping his face, and he loves it, you're riding his mouth over and over again you're so close but he pulls away letting your taste the testing he felt, the annoyance he dragged at work.

"p-please let me cum"

"no"

you wince at his words but he dives back in, buckle up because you'll only cum when he tells you so

Say That I'm Yours (gojo x f!reader)

Summary: Gojo has never experienced jealousy. But after overhearing you talking to Utahime about your ex (who is also her current boyfriend), he can’t fight off the shaky, unfamiliar feeling in his chest. You have to reassure him that he's only yours in the bedroom.

jjk masterlist

Content/Warnings: NSFW 18+, jealous and needy Gojo, pet-names (m!recieving and f!recieving), vaginal fingering, Gojo has a praise kink, and discovers that he loves to be called pretty boy, insecure Gojo, emotional hurt/comfort, a little angsty at first, oral (m!recieving), soft sex, unprotected sex, cream pie. At first, Satoru takes initiative, then you take over. Primarily dom!reader and sub!gojo. (soft/service!dom gojo too?? I think???)

Note: We’ve reached 500 followers! Woo! As a little treat to celebrate, I wrote my first ever smut piece. And uhhhh… I’ve never done this before so I apologize if it comes out a little wonky. If you haven’t read it already, this piece is NSFW so MDI.

P.S: Feedback is appreciated!

P.P.S: sub/soft!gojo rights.

Words: 10k

------

Gojo Satoru never considered himself to be a jealous man.

And personally, when he does get jealous, I do think he would get A LITTLE possessive. But contrary to what everyone else headcanons him to be, he wouldn’t be rough.

As Gege Akutami stated himself, Gojo is perfect in every way aside from his overly childish personality. Looks, wits, having complete mastery of his overall skill, Satoru really does have it all.

So aside from jealousy, he’s also never felt an ounce of insecurity in his life.

Plus, why would he? Growing up, he was brought up as the ‘perfect child’ in his clan, being the ignition to his ego. And currently, your devotion to him is higher than any other person he had previously come across with. And even though you don’t try, your physical expression towards him has fueled his ego in an unnecessarily large amount over your dating period.

You’re not a person of words, but merely a woman of touch. You talk a lot, but you’re not very poetic, so verbally complimenting Gojo is almost non-existent. But he doesn’t mind, since the number of compliments he has received from multiple people about his physical looks is 10x more than how much an average person receives in their lifespan. Though, it’s not a lie if he wants to hear how his eyes are like the sky or how his hair is like snow from you. Typical and repetitive, but it’s refreshing if those words trickle from your tongue instead from people he doesn’t care about.

But they never did, and he accepts that. He’s aware that you’re not the complimenting type, but the way your hand caresses his hair in the winter snow, fingertips lightly kissing his bare chest almost every night, and how you gaze into his eyes as if you were cloud-gazing is enough to make him feel like he’s the most gorgeous man alive. So it’s normal for him to never feel envy, insecurity, or any other negative, self-indulgent emotion. This relationship alone already sets him above cloud nine.

So, what happens if Gojo were to come face-to-face with those unfamiliar feelings for the first time?

—--

Utahime was extremely nervous when she introduced her partner to you and Satoru, especially you.

And it was definitely awkward to reunite with your former ex with your current boyfriend by your side… But it was Utahime’s fault, for she was rambling (and indirectly apologizing) about how painfully weird this must be to the both of you. And while Satoru joyfully soaked in her rare emotion of being flustered, you happily greeted your ex, and both exclaimed that this interaction isn’t weird or awkward at all.

Yes, Utahime’s boyfriend was your first love, but it ended smoothly and with no hard feelings. Your time apart is 5 times longer than your time together. In fact, this feels like a reunion between old friends rather than former, romantic companionship. That being said, Satoru feels at ease since you’re so relaxed and the man opposite to him (who goes by the name Rai) is non-threatening at all.

Therefore, lunch went smoothly, where everyone caught up with each other. You and Rai discussed any milestone events between the gap of seeing one another last and now, while Utahime irritatingly throws insults towards Gojo’s gleeful taunts.

After stopping at an ice cream parlor for dessert on the go, you and Utahime decide to sit outside on a bench to talk about “girl stuff” while the boyfriends entertain themselves.

“I have to take this call,” Rai waves his phone and Satoru dismisses him by flashing a toothless grin. And once the man leaves, the 28-year-old sorcerer ponders where you and his former classmate trailed off too. Sensing your cursed energy, he makes his way to the bench where you and Utahime are chatting.

“There’s no way he did that!” Utahime playfully slapped your shoulder while you hid your face from laughing too hard.

Amused, your boyfriend keeps himself at a distance, admiring how delighted you are, while also basking in how your skin glistens against the sun. But he remains close enough to eavesdrop.

“He did, he did!” Your finger swiped a tear off the bottom of your eye. “For 2 months after our first anniversary, he told the same restaurant that it was our anniversary for free dessert whenever we visited. And they believed it until all the waiters served us.”

Perplexed, Satoru raised an eyebrow, unfamiliar with your storyline. No? On your first anniversary, he took you to the Bahamas and 100% did not do that… Though it’s financially unnecessary, he thought it was a genius plan.

“It is something Rai would do,” Utahime sighed, calming down from her fit of laughter. “I’m 31, but he still sometimes tells the servers that I’m 25 whenever he wants to get under my skin.”

“Oh geez… A literal trickster at best.”

Satoru frowned upon discovering that you were talking about your past experience with Rai and how open you are about it. Well- it’s not that he minds. He shouldn’t mind, actually.

You probably talk about your experiences with Satoru to your friends all the time! Eagerly, he waits for your turn to share a goofy story about a time with your very dearest. But, that conversation never came to be.

Utahime shifts her seat and stands straight with relaxed shoulders. “In all honesty, I’m glad that we are able to talk about this. I was so nervous about how awkward it might be for you since Rai was you know…”

Her voice trailed off to some sort of unsettlement and you took that as an opportunity to smile genuinely at the nervous teacher.

“Ahh don’t be!” You gave reassurance by tapping the side of her thigh. “Rai is a great man! He and I ended on very good terms. I was actually very happy to see him today. Looks much different than the last time I saw him.”

“Really?” Utahime’s eyes ogled. “What did he look like when he was younger?”

Meanwhile, Satoru pressed his back against the wall with crossed arms. Removing his glasses, he barely needed to glance over the concrete corner to see you pulling old pictures of a group. And there you were in the middle while your finger led his attention to a figure of a man all the way to the left. Right from the get-go, Satoru knew that this picture was from you in high school, meaning that it was before you and Rai started dating. That was the only fact you told him.

The 31-year-old squinted her eyes and used her fingers to zoom into the photo. “Huh, he does look a lot leaner, but with more of a babyface. You didn’t become his girlfriend until the beginning of college, correct?”

You nodded. “Yeah. This picture was actually taken the day we met.”

Satoru felt his lips unconsciously pouting at the statement. Do you have any sort of memorabilia of the time you met?

‘It’s a group photo. Don’t be weird about it,’ The sorcerer brushed those uncomfortable, unfamiliar thoughts away.

“You guys knew each other longer than I thought.” Utahime happened to express Satoru’s thoughts out loud.

“Actually, I knew about him first before he met me,” you recalled, which sparked your lover’s curiosity. He leaned closer, so his ears could capture everything you say. Not that it bothers him, of course.

Assuming that the woman you’re talking to had a nonverbal reaction, you laughed outwardly. “You were no longer in high school, but he was very popular in our class! Though… there weren’t that many people, to begin with. Anyways, he would always be chirpy and courteous to those around him. I wasn’t that outgoing so I just kinda admired him from the back of the class until it was our last semester of high school… You’re okay with me telling you this, right Hime?”

“Please, I’m not the envious type. I want to know who my partner was before I met him. But I think your boyfriend might get jealous.” Satoru could hear the hesitance that trailed off his former classmate’s tone. He almost wanted to jump in and laugh at how stupid that assumption was.

Satoru, jealous? It’s sinful to put those two terms in one sentence.

“Nah, he’s not like that.” You raised a hand, brushing it off. “Anyways, where do you want me to start?”

—--

Maybe Satoru did something bad and the Gods punished him for it. With Rai gone for 30 minutes, you told Utahime your old companionship with her current lover. How after months of friendship, you were the one who initiated it and how he was your first everything. Before having proper money, you and Rai would go on adventures as dates to compensate for simple meals. And to make matters worse, Utahime all soaked it up as if she was the spectator in this failed relationship.

Not an ounce of possessiveness or jealousy courses through her veins. Just utter curiosity and fascination.

Gojo told himself that he felt the same thing. However, it left a sour distaste on his tongue and a churned stomach upon hearing all of this. He had his fair share of experiences before his current one and you were being honest about yours. You liked your relationship and that’s that.

But why did he carry the feeling of wanting to whisk you away from ever getting near Rai? No, Gojo Satoru is never jealous. He’s being protective.

“What are your favorite features about him?!” Utahime asked, clamping her fingers together. You sat up straight, rubbing the back of your head with an unsure laugh.

“Uhhh are you sure you want me to answer that?” As much as you’re happy about your friend’s enthusiasm, you felt like you might be setting yourself up in a trap.

“Oh come on! My boyfriend’s really hot and kind, and I don’t have anyone to fan him over with! Please, I won’t get mad!” The semi-grade 1 sorceress grabs your hands, tightly squeezing them. You scanned her eyes, trying to see if there was any envy or malice behind her enthusiastic gaze. However, any implication did not arise and you concluded that your friend was just lovesick with no one to talk to about it.

But Satoru sure as hell didn’t want you to. Actually, he was absolutely sure that you didn’t want to answer either. He’s had enough of this and he senses that you are too. If anything, he can’t wait to accuse his senior of acting like a teenage girl for the next year and forever. Pushing himself off the wall, he began to showcase his loud, obnoxious appearance until he halted at the sound of your voice.

“Like physical? I’m not too sure, actually. I used to like how light his brown hair would get in the summer.” You opened your mouth to continue but closed it immediately.

Satoru tugged on the strands of his white hair, frowning at the color. You liked running your hands through it, but you’ve never commented on how nice it looked.

“Isn’t it gorgeous? Everything about him is perfect-” Utahime fawned. Her face beamed a bright red as she geeked over her man, clutching onto you in the process. Your stuntedness formed into a genuine smile, due to how happy you are for a lifelong friend. At last, she’s found happiness.

She continued. “His hair, his face, his eyes-”

It even shocked you that you managed to interrupt Utahime’s rare tandem. “-His eyes are very beautiful! It’s like looking into a green nebula. It’s what drew me into him the most and I think he was sick of me always saying that.”

“Sincerely out of this world. I can’t describe it in words, but every time I look into them, I feel like I’m in a hypnotic trance.”

“-Like you’re simply lost whenever he’s talking?”

“YES!”

“Yeah, I noticed you blanking out whenever he was talking to you.”

“Oh shut up, you most likely did the same thing when he was yours.” Utahime playfully nudged and you furrowed at her tease.

“Sure.”

Now, this is something that Gojo had to admit that it kinda hurt. His eyes were the staple of his well-being, the frontman of his physical confidence. Yes, you drew your thumbs underneath those rare pairs, but the fact that you never called them beautiful or verbally admired them once stung.

But when Rai was yours, you apparently complimented him like it was no problem.

'Beautiful and captivating, huh?' He whimpered softly as the uncomfortable feeling washed over him. He never heard you traject those words to him before.

“Um… Well, I’m sure that you know, but he was absolutely sweet and very courteous.” Your tone softened as you reminisced about the old times. “We didn’t have a lot back then, but he still managed to make every day feel like we could do anything even though we didn’t have everything… Oh God, that sounds weird. I didn’t mean it that way, I’m so sorry.”

You face-palmed yourself and something inside Satoru’s gut twisted. He would always shower you with gifts and other spoils, but mainly as reconciliation if his busy schedule stole him away from you. Before he knew it, his hand was placed over his heart, his stomach doing massive somersaults.

Do anything… Did Satoru fail to give you satisfaction when he could do everything?

But when Rai was yours, you felt like you could.

“I know what you mean!” Utahime playfully tugged on the strands of her hair. You swore you could see stars beaming from her brown orbs. “One time we forgot our wallets after eating at a karaoke bar, so he had to improvise his way of paying by having me sing for tips and we still had leftover money for more drinks!”

“Ugh, clever bastard… Where does he get a brain like that? That’s also one thing I admire about him.”

“Well in terms of strength, he’s only a grade 2, so he had to be more creative when it comes to fighting curses.”

‘I can get creative!’ He mentally argued, though he never really has to, since he can snap and the curse would perish.

“True… When we’d spar back then, Rai would still manage to beat my ass even though I’m ‘stronger’ than him,” you put the term in air quotes.

You and Utahime convene until the latter’s boyfriend returns from his phone call. He flashed Satoru a wide smile and through his dark sunglasses, your partner analyzed the ex’s eyes.

They are very green and arguably mesmerizing. But, Satoru believes his are prettier.

But, is that what you think?

With an uncomfortable heart, the men returned to their beloved partners. You squealed when Utahime received a loving kiss from Rai, while Satoru snaked his arm around your waist.

You could’ve noticed how secure his grip as if you weren’t so busy talking to Rai about your past as mission partners.

—--

A few days later, you’ve noticed Satoru being extra clingy… and nice?

The usually messy and disorganized sorcerer started to clean up after himself and always abide by what you wanted.

The man who had the palette of a child opted out for a savory breakfast rather than going to a sweets cafe because you wanted to. He’d be more affectionate in public, not letting you out of his reach. Oddly enough, he would settle the bridge of his sunglasses on a lower portion of his nose, so you have to see in his blue eyes when you’d talk in public.

It worried you for a moment since new habits have been created and broken out of the blue. With no explanation, he would always do his best to please you.

From your basic wants to intimate needs, for some reason, Satoru wanted to give it his all.

—--

“What is with you, Satoru-” You sigh as your partner leaves delicate kisses on the nape and then to the side of your neck. His large hands slide down from your waist to your hips and pull you closer to him. “You’re so touchy today.”

Like the last couple of days…

“I just missed you,” his hot breath releases a chill down your spine. He then sets down the spatula you were holding while turning off the stovetop. “Just missed you so much.”

Though your ‘annoyed’ exterior shows any satisfaction, it’d be a lie if you claimed that you aren’t melting from his touch. The heat inside the kitchen adds more to the desire burning deep in your core and it doesn’t help that the person casting the effect spins you around and has lips hovering centimeters away from yours.

“Beautiful…” The tip of his right thumb brushes the bottom of your lip and he licks his own. You glance up to meet his eyes, but his starry blue irises have turned to a thinner ring, as his pupils dilate in infatuation. His remaining fingers cup your jaw, adding more fuel to the pit of your stomach.

His left-hand sneaks down to the flesh of your ass and you yelp in surprise as he pulls you towards him. Taking your open mouth as an advantage, Satoru doesn’t hesitate to slip his tongue in as his lips connect with yours. You wrap your arms around his waist, and the throb between your thighs increases.

“Mmph!” You groan and Satoru initiates the next step by rubbing his hips against your clothed body. Tongues dance together while he continues to grope your ass, but his hand shortly rises underneath your shirt, feeling every curvature of the small of your back. The sloppiness in his pace and the subtle whines in his throat is enough to help you predict how hard he is underneath his layer of clothing. Teasingly, you break the kiss and slip a finger inside his beltline.

A string of saliva bridges between the two lips and Satoru grouches at the disconnect. His lips swell pink from the heated activity while his cheeks are flushed, anticipating more. From his chest, the light blue, silk button-up rises up and down, and your partner pants heavily as if he just ran a marathon.

Usually, at this point, he would make some condescending or teasing remark on how much you want to bed him. However, his mouth remains gaped, only the sounds of his breathing pass between the two of you. Wanting to test him, your index finger slips lower until you can feel the skin of his abdomen. Satoru quickly exhales from the sudden touch, but there’s no usual smirk or raised brow on his face. Only an expression that screams, ‘Please continue.’

“Baby, are you okay?” You gaze at him, still catching your own breath.

He’s strangely quiet as if he’s suddenly shy. And that’s typically not who Gojo Satoru is.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” The hand still underneath your shirt begins to make its way to the right side of your waist, and the closer he gets to your stomach, the amount of butterflies increases.

After noting how your jaw clenches at the action, Satoru bends down and leaves a kiss on the side of your neck. It’s wet, but not entirely sloppy. Instead of using his tongue and straight-up licks down to your sternum like a usual, teasing bastard, he takes time and kisses his way down. The jolt between your thighs returns.

“We- We can’t. I still need to cook for you.” Automatically, your right hand reaches up to the back of his head, using your fingers to grasp his white locks. Your action contrasts your words and Satoru takes that as your approval.

“I’m not hungry.” But the way both hands move below your shirt says otherwise. Since you’re at home, you wear your favorite v-neck with no bra underneath. Freely, two thumbs brush over your hardened nipples, rubbing them in a circular motion, and your hands grip the counter for support.

“But-”

“Right now, I just want you.” There’s a different look in Satoru today. He’s never been so direct on what he wants until now. Whenever he would declare his needs, he would mask his desires with a playful tone. This time, he says it as if these are direct orders from a life or death mission.

Sensing your shift in mood, the sorcerer detaches his tongue from your exposed chest and looks up at you. The inner corners of his brows scrunched and his lips glisten under the fluorescent light. He shoots you a look of what appears to be desperation, almost like he’s in pain.

“Please-” he breathily urges, one hand scooping the bottom of your ass while the other arm is wrapped around your waist, waiting for approval. “I want to make you feel good, right now.”

Your legs tremble at this new side of Satoru and something about him practically begging to fuck you ignites something in your soul. You can’t pinpoint what exactly, but whatever it is, his wish is your command.

“Yeah, okay.” You breathe out and as if it’s choreographed over a hundred times (and to be honest, it is), you feel a set of palms grabbing your bottom and he hoists you up. Your legs immediately wrap around his waist and your lips crash against the side of his neck, hungrily sucking and licking where other faded love marks are. After being able to find his sweet spot, Satoru’s shoulders shudder at the intense feeling while he glides his way into the bedroom while carrying you, his constricted cock begs to be freed from his tight pants.

His main mission right now is to please you.

—--

Once he lays you down, you don’t hesitate to remove your own shirt and toss it to the side, revealing your bare breasts in all their glory. And for a few seconds, Satoru halts on top of you, hands next to your shoulders, soaking up the appearance of a goddess in front of him. A thin layer of drool begins to dribble down his lips.

Previously he’s admired you many times before sex, but because you’ve been so indulgent at his changed behavior, this is your first time noticing how he’s acknowledging your physical appearance. With how reserved he’s being, it gives you a little confidence boost, since you’ve never seen such a man in awe of your presence.

His bewildered eyes, a pool of drool below his lips, the imprint of his massive hardon against his left thigh, all of this is your doing. You’ve brought the strongest sorcerer to his knees, and you’ve never acknowledged that until now. With a burning face, your fingers pinch your own nipples, the pleasurable sensation causing you to moan.

Satoru, who is still on top of you (and fully clothed), bites his lip at how it’s not him forcing that sound out of you. In protest, his right hand carefully pushes away your left palm and continues to knead your breast.

The ends of his hair tickle your bare chest as his mouth trails lower to your stomach, enveloping each kiss with non-verbal, mental praises. He hopes that you understand the messages behind his actions, for he can’t find the right words that will do it justice.

You’re his goddess, and no one else's.

He wants you to feel good.

He wants you to say that you’re feeling good.

He needs you to say that he’s doing a good job, that nobody could ever compare to him.

“Someone’s feeling… very lovey today,” a hitched giggle is drawn out while your palm continues to pet his hair. It’s difficult to formulate a coherent sentence while he’s so busy leaving wet marks around the sensitive areas of your skin. 3 years together and he’s mastered all of your sweet points.

Wanting to share the pleasure, you raise your foot and rub his very prominent erection, gliding it back and forth. The sudden friction in his pants makes him halt his movements, a trembling hand wraps around the ankle of your jeans. Stopping your actions, you look up at an out-of-breath Satoru, who looks rather conflicted between wanting you to continue or needing you to stop.

One more swipe and it looks like he’s about to combust.

“Aww is my pretty boy about to cum in his pants?” The sultriness in your tone even shocks you. Usually, this is Satoru’s role to play, telling you how ‘pretty’ you are underneath him while mocking your desperation for release. But seeing how compliant he’s been, your subconscious tells you to take the dominant part- verbally at least. And not gonna lie, you do want to see the image of Satoru completely soiling his attire. If it wasn’t for his hold on your ankle, you would’ve been sliding your foot along his clothed shaft to the very tip of his very pretty dick.

A small patch of wetness seeps through your jeans and you’ve just noticed how soaked you are. It doesn’t help that the lewd image ingrained in your head is the major cause of all of this.

But what you didn’t know is how close Satoru is already. This whole charade is an experience for the both of you- you’re grunting at wanting to see your partner completely at your mercy while he’s about to combust from your sentence alone.

‘Pretty boy'

‘My pretty boy.’

His cock continues to twitch as the nickname cycles in his head again and again. It’s the first time you’ve ever called him something like that for intimate purposes. Even from his past sexual experiences, he’s never been the one who’s doused in possessive compliments so this is a new discovery for him.

Yes, yes! He’s your pretty boy. Yours and yours only. His heart thumps and his stomach flutters while ogling the wet patch seeping through your jeans. From your perspective, that flustered expression Satoru had is now mixed with a certain fierceness. The brightness in his eyes darkens as he single-handedly undoes the buttons of your jeans and even though he’s still got it, it’s cute at how clumsier he looks.

“No-” He grunts, answering your question. Bringing the middle and ring finger up to his mouth, Satoru coats them with his tongue, though you’re both aware that the extra lubrication is unnecessary. You’re already leaking through your jeans, that’s more than enough.

You swallow, gazing at the man above you, the superiority in your thoughts leaving your head.

‘Aw shit.’

A string of saliva connects his bottom lip to his coated fingers and Satoru swirls his tongue around your right areola.

“Haaah…” You gasp and fist the bedsheets and the skin of your boyfriend’s hand disappears below your panties as those long fingers trace along your puffy lips, a silent warning that he’s about to enter.

Shimming off your pants but leaving your underwear on, Satoru sits up more on his knees and eyes the bottom of your panties, the darker shade due to your juices adds more to his arousal. Yes, he felt how wet you are. But upon seeing how soaked you are, he’s extremely close to going completely feral.

“You’re leaking…” He replies astounded like this is a brand new sight for him. Your hips angle up, trying to match the slow pace of his fingers, your cunt beckoning for his fingers to slip in.

“Mhm, yeah. I am.” Your patience is starting to wear thin.

‘Is this some type of long foreplay?’ You thought to yourself, biting your lip.

Though you like this ‘wonder-like’ version of Satoru, you just want to feel him. Spreading your legs farther, your hand cups above his that’s hovering over your wet core. “You feel that? You feel how soaked I am, Satoru? It’s all- oh God… It’s all for you.”

If you weren’t so desperate for him to continue, you’d find yourself extremely pathetic for being the one indirectly begging for him to begin. And upon seeing your need, Satoru doesn’t waste any more time. After all, it is his duty to satisfy his queen.

Almost apologetically, his two fingers slip inside- warm, gummy walls instinctively tighten around them. Trying to add more stimulation, his thumb presses on your clit, rubbing in circular motions. His free hand palms his own erection and his hips begin to rut against it, pacing with how his fingers curl inside of you.

Satoru thrives on how contorted your face is, how your eyes roll to the back of your head and how your lips form an ‘o’ shape. The way that both hands tightly grip the sheets beside you, but how you desperately claw on them as if it’s his muscular back. Your hips buckle up, grinding the open air and he marvels at how ravenous you look.

“Sa- Satoru nghhh- yessss,” you reach out trying to grab his arm- grab any body part. Still pacing back and forth, Satoru holds out his free hand and you grip it tightly.

“Yes?” He groans with you, the squelching sounds of your wet cunt taking his fingers are music to his ears. You mouth his name again, mixed with urgent moans. He himself can feel precum creating a pool on his underwear. You try to speak and he wonders what to do next.

Does the fist himself while he continues fingering you? Or should he just focus on you? He can take care of his needs later. Right now… Right now Satoru wants needs you to-

“I’m about to… I’m about to cum.” You squeeze the last 4 words with clenched teeth.

“Then go ahead, sweetheart. Cum nice and hard for me.” He licks his own lips, nodding along with you like your release is also his.

“No.” You hiss and his eyes widen, surprised by your answer. Immediately, the thrusting of his fingers slows down to a stop. And you whimper at how you’ve edged yourself.

“What’s wrong, baby? Did I do something wrong? Did you not like it?” His mind races with many factors on how he displeased you. You seemed to have enjoyed it. The way that your insides squeezed around his fingers was enough to tell him that he was fingering you in the right places.

Settling from your almost high, you laugh and scoot closer to him, calves sliding underneath the middle of his thighs. Glancing at his perplexed face, you reach up to his white-collar, and yank him down, his lips connecting to yours once more.

You can feel the sound of his grunt vibrate on your tongue and like a pro, your fingers nimbly work their way down, undoing the first three buttons.

“I loved it,” you mumble between the heated kiss. “I was so close, but I want to cum from your cock, not your fingers.”

“Huh?” Satoru exhales sharply. His already flushed face deepens even more and the confident fire in you returns. Biting his lips, your hands trace down from his chest, purposely brushing over his nipples, and press on his muscular abdomen. Your left-hand removes the small leather strap from the buckle and tugs him closer.

“What are you doing?” He asks as if his eyes have deceived him. Your left fingers successfully undo the buttons of his jeans with one hand while your right ones lightly graze over his restrained erection. Satoru exhales, hips involuntarily rocking back and forth.

“What else?” You tease, applying more pressure against his clothed shaft. “Remove your top for me, Satoru. It’s not fair that I’m the only one naked right now. Why are you being so shy all of a sudden?”

Complying with the request, but ignoring your question, Satoru unbuttons his silk top, fingers fumbling and shaking. It is cute to see, but his sudden nervousness makes you nervous as well. Why is he being so fidgety? Did he do something bad?

On his second to the last button, you place your hand on top of his, signaling for him to stop. Reading the uncertainty on your face, Satoru can’t utter a word. His flushed chest heavily breathes, waiting for your next thought.

“What’s wrong, Satoru?” You speak softly, with an edge of worry.

“What do you mean?” He tries to play it off, but here’s the one thing about Gojo Satoru. He may be good at hiding his feelings, but if you interrogate him in a highly vulnerable environment, he’s shit at pretending. The warmth in his cheeks adds another knot of evidence.

Tugging on his wrist furthermore, you encourage him to sit down, officially halting the intimate activity. Disappointed by his lack of usual finesse, Satoru’s face beams in embarrassment rather than arousal.

“I mean…” You pull a pillow, hiding your exposed chest. “Why are you so nervous?”

Satoru does his best to pull a mischievous tone. “Is it wrong to be nervous when I pleasure my goddess?”

“ I-uhhhhh,” Your stomach releases butterflies, due to his suaveness. However, you still feel how hesitant Gojo is. It’s like facing a virgin. “You’re always very confident during sex. I’m usually the flustered one.”

You chuckle, pointing a finger at yourself, but your boyfriend hides his eyes through his hair. Frowning you scoot closer, as you settle your way onto his lap. Your arms wrap around the back of his neck and your wet core presses against his softening erection.

“Come on baby, talk to me.” You press an open-mouth kiss on his right pec and a small nibble on his collarbone. Satoru shudders at the warm feeling as he wraps his arms around your back to pull you closer. “Please?”

It took him a while, but the sorcerer finally connects through eye contact, his magnificent ocean eyes sending a loving shrill down your spine. You find yourself getting lost in his gaze.

“I overheard you and Utahime talking on the bench, the other day,” he grumbles and your ears perk up at his answer.

“How much did you hear?”

“I heard enough to know that Rai was able to make you feel like you could do anything in the whole world.” His voice drops and so does your heart. “Even with everything I have, no matter how many riches or treasures I give you, it’ll never amount to anything that he gave.”

Your face drops to a frown, shocked at what you’re hearing from both ears. How on earth did he assume that?!

“No baby, no.” You coo, sweeping the soft, pearl-like strands of hair from his forehead. Your lips plant on the recently exposed skin, and you slowly travel down to his nose, rosy cheeks, and jaw before stopping inches above his lips. Satoru whimpers at the distance, while also recalling your denial.

You slowly inch forward. “That was all in the past, my love. Rai is a great person, but the amount of affection he has given is no match to how much care, devotion, gifts (you jest by nibbling on the cartilage of his ear), and love that you've given me. Likewise, my feelings for you are incomparable to how I felt towards him. Don’t compare yourself to my past experience, Satoru. You’re my present and future.”

He swallows at your words. The sadness in his blue hues brightens into love and hope. His lips gape as he looks at the face that is inches above his. Truly a goddess in human form.

“Really?” He still needs to feel reassured.

‘Please tell the truth.’

“Yes, truly. I love you more than any man or woman I’ve ever come across and will come across.” Your thumb grazes his bottom lip as he mumbles back the same three words. The kiss starts slowly as if he was still hesitant over the whole ordeal. But your eagerness helps push him to come back to his comfort zone.

As he inserts his tongue into your mouth, you begin to pace by grazing his hair through your fingers. Your hips rock, lapping over the hardening member below, and the butterflies from your stomach return.

But before you can escalate even further, Satoru pulls away, this time earning a whine from you.

He breathes heavily, pulling on a rather teasing pout. “Say that my eyes are pretty.”

“What?” Your fingernails lightly trace over the sides of his neck and your partner shivers from the tingling sensation.

“You don’t compliment me, ever.” He forces out, rather pettily. “Just this once, please say something nice about me.”

His last sentence is hushed and desperate-sounding. You giggle at his shyness once more and peck the tip of his nose. Though, your stomach swirls with guilt, as it seems like you never showed him enough love.

Time to fix that.

“I’m sorry if you got the wrong message,” your lips travel to his neck, words vibrating through his flawless skin. His head leans back and his Adam's apple bobs from the pleasure. “But I always think that you’re beautiful, Satoru. It’s just that the whole world knows it.” Slowly, you remove yourself from his lap and have him lie flat down on the large mattress.

With all four limbs pinned around him, you continue to shower him with praise. You ravish every piece of exposed skin on his body starting from the top and he flushes brightly while looking away. “I thought that you’d be sick and tired once you hear it from me multiple times.”

“Never… I would never get sick of it coming from- ohhh…” Satoru hisses as your hand lightly tugs on the roots of his hair. With your right knee moving to the middle of his thighs, you put slight pressure on his balls, having him slowly grind for more friction.

“Your hair is purer than any shades of white and softer than all the silk I’ve ever touched.” Your grip softens as you kiss the side of his head. Soon after, you travel down to his eyes. Thumbs softly brushing the delicate skin underneath them. His blown-out pupils stare directly at your soul, the power of his six eyes distinguishing the warmth that flows through your veins.

You place a peck on each outer corner. “If only words can bring justice to how mesmerizing these eyes of yours are. Did you know how embarrassed I was the day you first removed your blindfold? I thought that I wouldn’t be able to pry away and you’d catch me staring.”

“I did. I caught you all the time.” He hums amused, but his gaze never leaves yours. Though it’s just the two of you in this room, you whisper a message that is created for him and only him.

“The sky and ocean, all-in-one. How did I get so lucky to see the gates of heaven when I’m still walking on this earth? Maybe I instead, am the honored one.”

His heart swells at the softness of your words. You, the goddess in his life, find yourself the honored one because of him. It nearly brings tears to the god-like sorcerer’s eyes.

Satoru slithers his large palms where your ass meets your thighs, unable to keep his hands away from you. He molds them and you swallow, the throb in your pussy begs to be touched, to continue unfinished business.

“Slow down, pretty boy.” You purr with a kitten-like grin. His hands around you clamp at the name and your knee feels his hips thrust up. His eyes almost roll back and his nose scrunches at the endearment.

“You like being called that, huh baby?” Your knee presses against his clothed crotch, earning a wince from his pretty mouth. “Is that all I need to say to get you this vulnerable? Call you my pretty boy?”

Another grind against your knee. Satoru looks up at you in a hazed condition. Though the main event hasn’t arrived, he looks like he just came from a 3-time post-orgasm state. With the cat biting his tongue, Gojo nods profusely, desperately uttering yes.

Sweat seeps through his button-up as you kiss his glossed lips. This time, you and Satoru had to fight for dominance. His is pure infatuation and desperation, while you want to gain control in taming the strongest sorcerer. You bring your body down as he slips a finger through the hem of your panties.

“Please…” He begs as you pull back, crotch fully grinding against yours. His hands move your hips in a slow rhythm, your wetness staining his already soaked imprint. The friction of your panties is enough to make you cum alone. “I want to make you feel good. Please let me make you feel good.”

That can happen, but seeing a vulnerable Satoru below you, desperate for your pleasure while curling his toes at every praise is rather enjoyable. A new, undiscovered flame lights your stomach and you want to do what it takes to explore this rare opportunity.

“You always do that,” you pout, going lower. “But this time, I-” Each word, leaves a love bite on his neck and down to his collarbone and chest.

“Want.”

Bite.

“To.”

Bite.

“Make.”

Bite.

“You.”

Kiss.

“Feel.”

Bite.

“Good.”

Bite.

You tug on his hard nipples with your teeth and fingers, making Satoru buck up in surprise.

“Nghhh!” He pants, tears pricking his eyes. His hands grip the sides of the bedsheets and since you’ve moved lower, his hips are humping nothing but air.

Removing the last two buttons of his shirt, you encourage him to shimmy out of it and toss it to the floor. No distractions.

As you move lower to his abdomen, you continue to spill praises and all the verbal affirmations that you’ve never told him. You feel extremely guilty for neglecting him in that aspect since you believe that he thinks that he just doesn’t need to hear anymore, so you want to make up for it as much as possible.

When you make it down to his pants, you debate whether or not you want to tease him even further or just begin business. His legs tremble the moment he feels the belt unfastening.

“Are you okay baby?” You ask innocently, tracing one hand around his v-line while the other gently grazes on the massive bump in his jeans. Satoru throws his head back, gripping both of your hands with his.

“My love, please.” His throat is dry, and his neck all the way down to his abs are decorated with your love marks. “I’m going to cum just by this- I can’t- I- Oh my God…”

“You can cum twice, can’t you?” He barely notices how you already unzipped his pants, the only layer blocking your skin from his dick is the heavily coated gray boxer briefs. It rises as it is freed from the constricted attire. After removing his trousers, you begin to toy with the outline with your hand. You can already feel the drool pooling in your mouth.

“I didn’t know you could get this soaked, Satoru!” You’re genuinely impressed by how much pre-cum your boyfriend is able to produce. On your hottest nights, he’d already had his dick pumping inside you if he were this horny. “How lucky am I to be dating the world’s prettiest boy with the prettiest dick?”

Satoru wants to laugh at the compliment, and retort something cheesy. But his mind is too swayed to even think coherently. He is pretty. You’re his pretty boy.

He loves that.

Peeling off his stained boxers, his hard dick springs freely, the light reflected by the sheer coat of his juices. The flushed tip leaks even more out and you almost feel pity at how long you’ve left him waiting.

The sorcerer can barely raise his dizzy head to see what’s going on. When you make eye contact with him, a devilish smirk appears on your face and Satorh’s thighs clench when he feels your hot breath going near it. He’s almost afraid of what you’re going to do.

“J-Just- just… Aghhh, my love! I-” He is instantly greeted by the softness of your mouth and hand circulating around him. His balls are heavy with cum, the only thing prohibiting him from shooting down your throat is his sheer willingness to draw out this pleasure as long as possible.

You can’t go all the way down, as the halfway point is already your limit. As your right hand strokes the bottom portion of his shaft, your left pays gratuitous attention to his balls, massaging them to increase the pleasure.

Meanwhile, your own cunt is begging for the pleasure Gojo’s receiving. With your knees still on the bed, your ass sticks up in the air, the angle forcing your sticky wetness to travel down to the front of your core. It doesn’t matter anyway, you’re already leaking on the bed.

At this point, Gojo is already babbling incoherent sentences. His head lolls to the side, his blue hues barely visible due to how far they rolled back. His right-hand fists the bedsheets, knuckles paling due to how tight he’s pulling on them. The other is submerged in your hair. He’s more gentle about it, but every once in a while he would subconsciously thrust a little too hard, making you gag. You encourage him to keep going by swirling your well-coated tongue around his tip.

A few more pumps, Satoru is spilling. His abdomen flexes at the intensity, veins popping out in his lower stomach. Your head bobs to match his quick-paced movements, but he’s losing control of himself. Satoru’s thighs flex as he humps up, forcing more of his cock into your throat.

“Baby,” he warns feverishly, gripping tighter on your hair. “I’m cumming, I’m cumming-”

Your head spins at the intensity, barely being able to take a breath. You hum, sending vibrations down his twitching cock.

He groans and whines, yearning for the long-awaited release. His toes curl and his muscled thighs shake as his member shoots long streams of cum down your throat.

“You’re so good to me… So, so good.” The grip on your hair turns into strokes as you swallow all of his seed. Once he relaxes, you slide your mouth from his cock, jaw aching from the rigorous pace. However, that’s not the only part of your body that’s aching.

Your cunt begs to be taken care of as you crawl over a recovering boyfriend, who’s still catching his breath.

The desperation in his eyes has cleared, but the lust still remains. You lick your lips before interlocking with him, your bodies pressed against each other. His hands roam around your back before one slides down to your ass, underneath your underwear. You grunt at how grabby he still is.

“Don’t you want a break?” Though, it’s a ridiculous inquiry, since Satoru’s hard shaft is already rubbing up against your pussy. You both simultaneously moan at the sensation.

“No breaks for you,” he chuckles as he pulls you in for a kiss. “I still need to make you finish. My poor baby has been waiting for me, huh?”

You sneer at his tease. “You cum once and all of a sudden, you’re back to the way you were- Woah!”

In your next blink, you find yourself lying on your back, your recently relieved lover now hovers over you. It really is like looking up at the sky, his glossy eyes shining brighter than the blue sky outside. You feel your entire body heat up as he ogles you from your head to your feet.

“Absolutely divine,” his voice rasps, the cock you just fucked with your throat taps against his thigh, clearly aroused. You rub your thighs together, looking for some relief. “Now, where were we before you sucked me off?”

The edge of his pointer finger traces around your folds, outside of your panties. He knows how much you love the friction, as you grind against his finger, nipples hardening at the action.

You moan softly, enough to capture his attention. “Satoru-”

The star-like gaze you offer sends the message completely. Bending down, Satoru plants a long, passionate kiss as he circles your clit with an additional finger. You squeak against the pleasure, wanting more. More, more, more.

“Why are you so beautiful?” He mumbles, barely pulling away from you. Your saliva connects each other’s lips and no longer having the patience, you take his hair and pull him down.

His flushed chest lies against yours and Satoru leaves open mouth kisses on your neck, hitting all of your major sweet spots before trailing down to your breasts, the same way you did for him not too long ago.

With his long tongue, Satoru teasingly circles around your areola before fully latching onto your nipple, biting and sucking to his heart’s content.

You roll your eyes back to the incredible sensation, a warm shrill traveling around your body. It leaves your cunt even wetter, desperate for parts of Satoru that aren't his fingers.

“You're such a good boy,” a new nickname leaps from your tongue and swims into his ears. Satoru tenses at the pet name, and you can feel the vibrations of his whimper against your breast. Your fingers lace over the strands of his white hair as he continues to play with what seems to be his favorite features of your body.

But even with the jolting sparks of sensitivity those buds provide, it’s not enough to satiate the burning drive in the pit of your belly.

“‘Toru,” you say sloppily, wiggling your hips to the rhythm of his fingers. “I need you- inside me. Fuck me- Please.”

You bite your lip and he lifts his head up, the infatuation still possessing his very being.

His digits leave your clit and instantly, you grind for the missing feeling. Satoru nods as he removes your panties, basking in the beautiful bareness. The slickness laminates your intimate area, something that temporarily captures your partner’s attention.

He supports himself on top of you but furrows his eyebrows.

“No condom.” He displays an innocence in those orbs, mixed with twinges of disappointment. You laugh and shake your head.

“I’m on birth control. You can cum inside me as much as you want now.”

It makes his ears perk, mouth slightly parting from the genuine surprise. You’ve both never done it raw before, but you trust Satoru with your entire life to make this decision.

“Are you… Are you positive?”

“Yes, and my pregnancy results will be negative.” You stick your tongue out at the pun and Satoru laughs at your cheesy joke.

“I love you.” He looks at you earnestly, pressing a light kiss to your lips.

“I love you too.” You say as he lines up the tip to your leaking hole. It’d be a lie to say that you weren’t nervous, but the excitement and the fogginess of your arousal override any negative feeling.

Spreading your legs even wider, Satoru goes in slowly. Thanks to the accumulated fluids you’ve both produced, slipping in comfortably is an easy task. However, your partner struggles to keep his composure at the foreign sensation.

You throw your head back as your body welcomes his cock, no latex rubber blocking the two of you. Of the many acts you’ve done together, this is the first time where it’s just you and him.

“You’re so tight… And g-ood.” He stammers, stopping only halfway. Satoru clenches his teeth to prevent himself from releasing prematurely. Man, thank God he already came once, or the pent-up sensation would’ve ended him. “Oh, you feel so good- taking all of me in.”

He grunts while inching deeper inside of you, nuzzling his face into your neck. You have your mouth pressed against his trapezius, teeth sinking in the skin.

The satisfaction of feeling his heavy balls rest against your entrance enables you to grind on his flesh. The cascades of whimpers fall out of your mouth, beckoning for him to move.

Satoru starts slowly, his arm cradles your neck for support. Breathless moans from his end tickle your neck.

“Faster-” You suggest and your every wish is Satoru’s command. His pace quickens, and the sounds of his skin slapping skin move in a rhythmic beat. “Yes, thank you! Good boy- oh my g-”

Your vision blurs as his cock perfectly hits the g-spot, your legs wrap around his hips to adjust the angle.

Satoru lifts his head up, seeing stars. Tears accumulate at the edge of his eyes, his puffy, red lips practically drooling from the pleasure. He kisses the corners of your lips, whispering.

“Am I good enough for you?” It almost sounds like he’s embarrassed to ask.

The back of your fingers stroke his face before combing through his hair. “Yes baby, you’re always so good for me- so perfect and beautiful. You are more than enough for me- hahhhh… yes, yes, yes!”

Your praises are cut short as you feel a jolt in your stomach. You’re almost there, your calves pull Satoru’s hips, encouraging him to drive faster and harder. He looks like he can barely hold it in.

“My pretty boy is always so good for me-” You coo, repeating the same thing over and over. "Right baby?"

“I- I- Mhmm… ‘m yours.” His red face scrunches, quiet pants turning into loud whines. “I’ll always be yours… Please, mghh- please say that I’m yours- nobody else."

His insecurities flow out of his mouth with no filter stopping him. It’s unfair, but Gojo Satoru hates the burning sensation in his chest, realizing that someone else once belonged to you and you belonged to them.

Instead of jealous rage, he emotes envious fear.

No- he’s yours. Only him and him alone. After all these years, he realizes that he doesn’t want to be alone. Satoru will give you anything and everything to his avail to never leave him.

“Please, please, please…” He begs. Desperate whines accumulate as a free hand cups your bouncing breast. His slick cock twitches in you, yearning for a release. Satoru doesn’t know how much longer he can hold it in, but he needs you to come undone first- his goddess, his everything.

Your hands cup his pink face, forcing him to gaze up at you. Those infatuated pairs he once expressed turn into a gape of restlessness. He still needs to be reassured that your mind, body, and soul belongs to him as he does to you.

“Everything about you is made for me. Your spirit and body are mine.” Your stomach flips as the fire burns higher. Your toes curl as you’re moments away from approaching your orgasm. Satoru’s heart thumps 3 times faster than the pace he’s thrusting in.

“I am yours and you are mine, understand baby?” You continue, head spiraling. Satoru nods vigorously, his own drool pooling down to the side of your face. Oh, how he loves this feeling. His heart is warm and his desires are satisfied all due to your love. “You’re my one and only true love- forever and always. Always my pretty, handsome, perfect boy. Nobody could ever compare to you. Can you say that for me?”

His cock painfully twitches, bits of cum slowly spilling out of his slit. It’s too much. He can’t hold it in anymore.

“I’m yours- ‘m only yours.” He dedicates, in short sputters, saying your name. “I love- mmgh- I love you. Oh my God, -always yours, only yours.”

“I love you, Sa- hahhh- ‘toru!” Your volume rises as you praise his name. It sounds so beautiful as it rolls off your tongue. Your legs clutch tightly around his back, and your body pushes up to press against his.

His hips thrust faster, tightly wrapping his arms around your back and hips to hold you up. Moaning your name, Satoru is in a daze. His momentum is vicious as the animalistic side in him attempts to make an entrance.

“I’m cumming, Satoru! I- I-” You shower him with praises as he finally tips you over the edge. You see flashes of white and shake violently against his hold, gasping as your body rumbles into a turbulent orgasm. Your thighs quake as euphoric bliss travels through your system.

During the start of your orgasm, Satoru begins soon after. With one final thrust, he moans as he sets you back on the bed. His abdomen clenches and small tears spill from his face as his mouth creates an ‘o’ shape. Soon after, he grits his teeth, stammering your name as several long, white ropes shoot out, his love spilling inside of you.

Satoru continues to thrust slowly, riding the high of arguably, his best orgasm of all time. You shudder in his hold, with no words that are worthy enough to process what just happened.

You lazily smile up at the ceiling, combing through his hair, and after a few minutes of silence, he finally pulls out. His cock is drenched in milky rings, and the bedsheets are crumpled and stained with an unjustifiable amount of both of your fluids.

Satoru lies on top of you, speechless. He pants, trying to catch his breath. Even in his most difficult missions, he never had to exert so much air through his lungs until now.

“If you wanted to talk, we could’ve just done that.” You finally break the silence, giggling from the very intense session.

Satoru’s face doesn’t lift from your chest. His eyes flutter as he does a sarcastic eye roll. His cheek splays on your skin, disorienting his speech. “Pfft, that’s boring.”

His fingertips graze over your forearm, trickling down to your wrist and then enveloping your fingers with his. Satoru’s larger thumb massages your knuckles, before bringing them up to his lips.

“You know,” You stir, rocking the hand that’s intertwined with Satoru, side-to-side. The tone you bring is gentle but serious, bringing up something that isn’t the typical lovey post-sex topic you guys would initiate. “There’s no need for you to get jealous over anything, Satoru. You’re the only one I want.”

Slowly, he rises and peers at you, the pearl-white strands dusting over his glossy eyes. “I know... I just didn’t know how to handle what I felt when you talked about another man that wasn’t me.”

“I’m sorry about that, baby. Utahime kept pushing me and I was just really happy to see how she finally found her own love, so I just kept on rambling with her.”

“I should’ve taken a video of her for blackmail.” Satoru scoffs at the lost opportunity.

“However,” you laugh, shifting the conversation. “I did like this jealous side of you. It was cute.”

Gojo’s mouth drops at the comment and some confusion stems from his sentence.“My jealous side is… cute?”

As I stated earlier, I whole-heartedly believe that Gojo would get possessive, in ways that may differ from what other people think. He can take over the whole world with the palm of his hand and force his way to do the unthinkable. But if there’s a rare, uncontrollable factor that could pull whatever or whoever he cherishes away? Then, he gets desperate.

Gojo Satoru would get possessive by clutching onto his loved one, asking if he’s enough, and giving all that he could. After all, he was a gifted child who was the exact norm of perfectionism. So when he sees a competitor who could challenge his being, he’d crumble, get desperate, not knowing what to do.

But, just reassure him that no one could ever beat him.

“Yes, cute! Can we do that again next time?” You giggle at his very prominent pout.

“I’m not the only person that’s switched roles. You’re quite mouthy and feisty when you take charge.” He glares, but softens wholeheartedly at your amusement when his eyes connect with yours.

"I am only yours, right?" Satoru whispers once more, inching closer to your face, hinting at an answer that he wants to hear again and again.

From lust, to fear, to love, those same blue eyes cultivate the same message he had always intended to deliver.

"Yes, Satoru." You rub his back as he nestles his head on your chest, finally humming into relaxation. "You're only mine."

Satoru Gojo is yours and only yours. Always have, always will.

! nanami kink hcs !

18+, minors/ageless blogs, do not interact.

genre: nsfw, nanami kento x reader

c+w: implied fem. reader, spanking, squirting, overstim, nanami spoiling reader, brief mention of m. masturbation. let me know if I forgot any pls!

a/n: hii, this is my first actual post. please let me know what other jjk characters you’d like to see kink hcs for, or if you want more nanami ones! this is a brief list so I def wanna make a part two.

panty kink >:)

- he loves cute underwear basically.

- he jerks off with your panties from the hamper a lot, which is how this one planted itself into his head. one day he saw a pretty pink pair lying on top and he was in the middle of pumping one out. he grabbed the pair without thinking much of it and he’s hooked.

- what’s better than a pair of cute panties? a pair of cute panties on you.

- he likes when you lay on your back with your legs open for him, wearing nothing but a pair of his choosing. he’ll rub his cock up and down your cute little cunt with nothing but the fabric in between. the first time he did it he came so quickly and splattered your tummy with it. he was really embarrassed.

- when he has a really rough/long work day he stops at the bakery on his way home, as well as his favorite lingerie shop. he picks out a new set or two for you and asks you try them on when he gets home.

- his favorite pairs include a standard, plain white pair, a light pink one with frillies on the thigh holes, and a lacey blue pair that matches his usual work shirt.

spanking :0

- this one kind of goes along with the panty kink.

- he likes having you over his knee the most but he also likes when you’re face down ass up.

- he always starts a spanking session by admiring the panties he picked out for you that night. he’ll smooth his hands over the fabric covering your cheeks, run his fingers under the hems and maybeee give you a little wedgie, just to watch you squirm.

- he starts light and slowly gets more heavy handed. he’ll pull your undies to the side to see how red you’re getting and then slap the exposed skin.

- nanami loooooves to finger you while spanking too. first he rubs you through the fabric, then he pulls them to the side or takes them off. he’s obsessed with how you squeeze his fingers every time he smacks your ass.

toy collecting :>

- as you can tell, nanami loves buying you things.

- somewhere in your shared bedroom is a large collection of various dildos, vibrators, and other fun toys.

- his favorites usually include vibrators because they do a really good job at overstimming you/making you squirt.

- he has two favorite positions for vibrator play.

- the first one is you in his lap with your back to his chest. he likes reaching around you because it makes him feel closer to you. he loooves when you rest your head on his shoulder. he also likes hooking his legs over the top of yours to keep you still when overstim is involved.

- the second position is you on your back at the end of your bed and him on his knees between your legs, right in the splash zone. he’ll kiss and nibble on your thighs while watching you squirm and squeeze around nothing. when you do squirt in his face you’re usually embarrassed but this man is so content with it. literally heaven.