𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐔𝐏 | Eren Jaegar

𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐄𝐗

— Fushiguro Toji, Gojo Satoru, Ryomen Sukuna, Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru, Fushiguro Megumi, Yuji Itadori

cw. f!reader, size kink, soft sex, praise, oral, pussyjob, pet names, doggy, riding, use of ‘daddy’ (1 - geto)

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

“Come on, doll,” he coos lifting your hips upward and pulling you onto his cock, “let’s start this day off right.”

He tickles your ear as he nibbles on your lobe making you moan even before his tip rubs your wet folds.  His hand tightens around your throat as he slowly works his way into your pretty slit, “fuck … you’re so tight.”

Your eyes roll back and you clench your fingers around the headboard as Toji moves his hips against yours, “you feel so good, you’re gonna come on this big cock, aren’t you uhu?”

His shaft stretches and spreads your tight hole with every inch pushed in as you moan and whimper in response. He pokes your sweet spots grinding inside your sloppy walls.

“Fuck … give me more,” you sob when he is finally fully in, his base pressed against you and his balls grazing your clit.

You gasp when he grabs your hips and starts rocking back and forth, lewd sounds fill the room, “you want my cock? Then take it all, come on.”

Your eyes roll back and your back arches even further, the headboard slams against the wall as your ass bounces from the rough thrusts. His fat balls slap your puffy bud making you tremble in anticipation.

“Toji … fuck … cumming don’t stop”. His favorite words. He intertwines his fingers with yours pushing against your sweet spot, making you cream and gush over his fat girth.

You cum copiously, your hips slamming against his as you try to take even more of his cock, “shit, doll, take it all,” he hums, his throbbing cock covered in white as you fuck out your high.

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miya osamu who is possessive. he makes sure you know you're his. grabby in public, hand on your back, your waist, fingers in your pussy on public transport. i feel like he's the kinda guy to apologize when he's going to rough, when he's hurting you, but he just can't help it. probably has a breeding kink and just wants to stuff you so full

axiom // miya osamu

tw ⇢ possessive!osamu, jealous!osamu, lots of pda, public sex, fingering, begging, asphyxiation, breeding, multiple rounds, creampie, unprotected sex, one spank, overstimulation, name calling, praise kink (receiving), marking, getting caught

wc ⇢ 7.7k

a/n: spent all night writing this for you, nonnie. god, i wanna marry samu so bad

The familiar bustle of Onigiri Miya surrounded you as you tended to the last customer of the day. The aroma of freshly cooked rice and savory fillings filled the air, but beneath the comforting scents, an undercurrent of tension emanated from your boyfriend. Though Osamu tried to maintain a casual demeanor, leaning against the counter with an air of nonchalance, you couldn't help but notice the subtle signs of his mounting frustration.

The way his hand curled into a tight fist, knuckles turning white from the force of his grip. The rhythmic throbbing of the vein in his neck, pulsing in time with his accelerated heartbeat. The clenching of his chiseled jaw, the muscles flexing beneath his tanned skin. Even the aggressive tapping of his foot against the tiled floor betrayed his inner turmoil, each staccato beat echoing in the space between you.

Your own heart raced with a potent mix of concern and confusion. What had triggered this sudden change in Osamu's usually calm, patient demeanor? It was a rarity to see him so visibly agitated, his composure cracking under the weight of an unknown pressure. As the customer finally took their leave, you allowed your gaze to wander around the shop, seeking answers in the familiar surroundings.

That's when your eyes met Atsumu's. He sat at a nearby table, his long fingers absently tapping against the polished mahogany surface, a pensive expression etched onto his handsome features. The moment your gazes locked, however, his eyes widened momentarily, a flicker of recognition sparking within their depths. Then, just as quickly, his lips curled into a knowing smirk, as if he held the key to a secret you had yet to find out.

The unease that had been simmering in your gut intensified, a sense of foreboding washing over you like a chilling wave. What did Atsumu know that you didn't? Before you could dwell on the question further, a pair of strong, familiar arms coiled around your waist, pulling you flush against the solid warmth of Osamu's chest.

The sudden contact sent a shiver racing down your spine, your breath catching in your throat at the unexpected intimacy. "'Samu? What's—"

"The back. Now." His voice was low and clipped, each word laced with an authority that left no room for argument. The warning squeeze of his fingers against your hip only served to emphasize the urgency of his demand.

Waves of apprehension crashed over you as you processed his words, your mind reeling with the implications. Osamu was undeniably angry—that much was clear from the tension radiating off him in palpable waves. But the reason behind his ire eluded you.

With a hesitant nod, you released yourself from his embrace and began to make your way towards the storage room at the back of the shop. Each step felt heavy, as if your feet were encased in concrete, your mind spinning with a whirlwind of possibilities. What had you done to incite such a reaction from your usually level-headed boyfriend?

Time seemed to stretch on indefinitely as you waited anxiously in the small, musty confines of the storage room. The air was thick with the mingled scents of dried goods and cleaning supplies, the shelves looming overhead like silent sentinels. Your heart hammered against your ribcage, a frantic bird desperate to escape its bony prison.

When the door finally creaked open, signaling Osamu's arrival, your breath lodged in your throat, your pulse skyrocketing with a heady mix of anticipation and trepidation. You barely had a chance to utter a word, to form a coherent thought, before he was upon you, his lips claiming yours in a searing, possessive kiss.

His hands gripped your hips with a bruising force, fingers digging into the pliant flesh as he pulled you impossibly closer, erasing any lingering distance between your bodies. A soft, involuntary moan escaped your parted lips, muffled by the insistent press of his mouth against yours. Your own hands rose to clutch at his broad shoulders, fingernails scraping against the fabric of his shirt as you surrendered to the intensity of his kiss.

The heat of his body, the unyielding pressure of his lips, sent desire coursing through your veins like molten lava, igniting a fire in your core that threatened to consume you whole. Just as quickly as it began, however, Osamu abruptly tore his mouth away, leaving you breathless and aching for more.

"What was his name?" he demanded, his voice rough and low, his stormy eyes boring into yours with an intensity that made your knees weak.

"Wh-what?" you managed to stammer, your mind still hazy from the intoxicating kiss, struggling to make sense of his sudden question.

"That last customer, what was his name?" Osamu repeated, an edge of impatience creeping into his tone, his words laced with a subtle growl.

You blinked rapidly, trying to clear the fog of desire that clouded your thoughts, attempting to grasp the significance of his inquiry. "Keisuke. Why?"

Something dark and primal flickered in the gunmetal depths of Osamu's eyes, a possessiveness that sent a delicious thrill racing down your spine. He reached for you once more, his large hand splaying across the small of your back, pressing your body flush against the hard planes of his chest. "So you remember his name?"

"What the—"

Your words were cut off by Osamu's exasperated sigh as he released you roughly, causing you to stumble back a step, your heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribcage. Any retort you might have mustered died on your tongue as you watched him reach for his belt, his intentions unmistakable in the purposeful movements of his fingers.

"Don't worry, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice a sinful promise, dripping with dark intentions that made your core clench with anticipation. "By the time we're done, you won't even remember what he looked like. Now, why don't you bend over f’me?"

There was a certain smugness in the way he spoke, as if he knew he'd already won. And the worst part was, deep down, you knew he was right. Because as you bent over, ass up, ready to take him, all thoughts of the nameless customer were wiped from your mind. The only name that mattered was Osamu's, and by the time he was done with you, you'd be screaming it loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear.

As his name spilled from your lips, tinged with a mix of reverence and desire, you knew you were lost. But as his fingers slipped between your thighs, brushing against the heated flesh, sending pleasure rippling through your core, you couldn't bring yourself to care.

"Fuck, you're already soaked, sweetheart," Osamu groaned, his thumb rubbing slow, torturous circles around your clit.

"I'm not the only one," you gasped, arching your back and pressing against his hard length, trapped inside his jeans.

"Oh yeah? And who's fault is that, huh?" he murmured, swiftly turning you around to face him, the tip of his nose grazing along your jaw, his warm breath fanning over your ear.

"Yours," you replied breathlessly, your own hands fumbling with the zipper of his pants.

He chuckled, a low, husky sound that sent shivers down your spine, his teeth grazing over the sensitive skin of your neck. "Damn right it's mine."

You could feel his smile against your skin, and despite the haze of lust that clouded your mind, you couldn't help but grin. He was arrogant, but he had every right to be. He was the one who'd managed to make you this wet, after all.

With practiced ease, he slid your panties down, letting them fall to the floor in a silken puddle. Then, without warning, his fingers were inside you, curling and pumping with a rhythm that had your knees buckling.

"Fuck, 'Samu," you whimpered, your nails digging into the soft flesh of his bicep, leaving behind faint crescent-shaped indents.

"That's it, sweetheart," he breathed, his other hand tangling in your hair, tugging your head back until your eyes met his. "Let me hear how much you love this."

You could only moan in response, his fingers working their magic inside you, drawing you closer and closer to the edge. Your own hands continued to work on freeing his cock, a task made more difficult by the distracting waves of pleasure radiating through your body. But, after what felt like an eternity, you managed to release him from his confines, your fingers wrapping around his thick shaft, stroking him with a pace that matched his own.

His fingers sped up, the slick sounds of your combined pleasure filling the air, a lewd melody that only served to heighten the intensity of your impending release. You could feel the tension building inside you, like a coil wound too tight, ready to snap at any moment.

And when it did, it was with a ferocity that left you shaking in his arms.

Osamu's fingers worked you through your orgasm, drawing out every last drop of pleasure before pulling out. You barely had a moment to recover before his cock was sliding between your folds, coating himself with your juices.

"Fuck, I can't wait to be inside you," he groaned, his voice strained with desire, the heat of his words sending a fresh wave of arousal through your body.

"Then do it," you challenged, your eyes locking with his, a playful glint in their depths. "Stop teasing me."

His lips curved into a smirk, his hand trailing down the curve of your spine, before landing a sharp smack against your ass. The unexpected sting only fueled your desire, a gasp slipping past your lips.

"Patience, sweetheart," he murmured, a hint of amusement in his voice.

With agonizing slowness, he slid inside you, his cock stretching and filling you to the brim.

You couldn't help but moan, the sensation of being filled by him sending a rush of ecstasy through your veins. He stilled for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size, before beginning to move.

His thrusts were slow and deliberate, each one eliciting a breathless moan from you. The feeling of his cock sliding in and out of you, coupled with the friction of his pelvis against your clit, was enough to send you spiraling into another mind-blowing orgasm.

"Yes, that's it, sweetheart, come for me," he growled, his own pleasure evident in his voice, the rhythmic clenching of your walls around his shaft.

As the waves of bliss began to recede, you could feel him picking up his pace, his thrusts becoming more erratic, chasing his own release. His fingers dug into your hips, the bite of his nails against your skin, only serving to intensify the pleasure coursing through your veins.

"Come on, 'Samu, fill me up," you urged, your voice barely above a whisper, a breathless plea.

"Fuck," he groaned, his grip tightening almost painfully, the tension of his impending release coiling through his body.

And with a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself to the hilt, spilling inside you, his hot cum painting your walls. The sensation pushed you over the edge once more, your own release tearing through you with an intensity that left you trembling and breathless.

Slowly, reluctantly, he pulled out, leaving you feeling suddenly empty. Before you had a chance to recover, however, he was capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, the taste of him mingling with the sweet flavors of his food.

"What brought this on?" you asked breathlessly, once he'd finally released you. He smirked, his eyes full of mischief. "Can't a man want to fuck his girlfriend without having to justify it?"

"You're unbelievable," you laughed, rolling your eyes.

"You love it," he teased, pulling you closer, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. "And I'm not finished with you yet."

Realization crashed over you like a tidal wave, stealing the breath from your lungs and sending your pulse into overdrive. Osamu was jealous. The man renowned for his unwavering patience, the one who had endured countless incidents of his brother's shameless flirting and innumerable customers vying for your attention, had finally reached his breaking point.

A thrill raced through you at the thought, your skin prickling with a heady mix of excitement and apprehension. Osamu had always been an attentive, passionate lover, his touch igniting a fire within you that burned brighter with each passing day. But you knew that beneath the surface, he kept his darker desires locked away, a carefully maintained restraint that never fully unleashed the depth of his hunger for you.

Now, it seemed, that fragile control had shattered. From that moment on, everything shifted, the very fabric of your relationship rewoven with the threads of Osamu's all-consuming possessiveness.

Gone were the days of working the front counter, of engaging in friendly banter with the customers who frequented Onigiri Miya. Osamu's jealousy knew no bounds, his need to stake his claim on you overriding any semblance of professional decorum. Each night, he would pull you into the back room, his hands roaming your body with a desperate urgency, his lips marking your skin with bruising kisses that served as a reminder of who you belonged to.

At first, the intensity of his passion was exhilarating, a heady rush that left you craving more. The way he claimed you, the force of his touch, the raw hunger in his eyes—it all combined to create a potent mix of desire that coursed through your veins, setting your nerves ablaze with an insatiable need.

But as time wore on, the cracks in the foundation of your relationship began to show, Osamu's jealousy bleeding into every aspect of your daily life like an insidious poison.

It started with small gestures in public, seemingly innocent displays of affection that belied a deeper, more primal urge. The way his fingers would intertwine with yours, his grip just a little too tight, a silent declaration of ownership. The way he would bring your joined hands to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to your knuckles, his eyes daring anyone to challenge his claim on you. The way he would pull you close, his arm a heavy, reassuring weight across your shoulders, a tangible barrier between you and the rest of the world.

But as the days turned into weeks, Osamu's actions grew bolder, more brazen in their possessiveness. It was as if he needed to constantly remind the world that you were his and his alone, consequences be damned.

One particularly memorable incident occurred outside the shop, as you waited for Osamu to join you for your anniversary date. The evening air was crisp and cool, the stars twinkling overhead like diamonds scattered across a velvet sky. A group of teenagers loitered nearby, their laughter and chatter filling the night with a youthful exuberance.

You paid them no mind, lost in your own thoughts as you anticipated the romantic evening ahead. That is, until one of the boys broke away from the group, sauntering towards you with a cocky grin plastered across his face, his eyes alight with a boldness born of teenage bravado.

"Hey, lady—"

The words had barely left his mouth when Osamu appeared at your side, his arm snaking around your waist in a clear display of possession. His grip was iron-clad, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hip, a silent warning to anyone who dared to encroach on his territory.

"She's taken. Fuck off." His voice was a menacing growl, low and guttural, laced with a palpable threat that sent a shiver down your spine. His eyes, normally a warm, inviting shade of gray, had hardened into chips of ice, narrowed in a withering glare that could have frozen the very marrow in the unfortunate teenager's bones.

The boy, to his credit, had the good sense to retreat, scurrying back to the safety of his friends with his tail tucked firmly between his legs. Osamu's chest puffed out in satisfaction, a primal display of dominance that sent a thrill racing through your veins. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering against your hair, a silent affirmation of his love and protection.

From that moment on, Osamu's public displays of affection only escalated, each one more daring than the last. At a dinner with Atsumu and his teammates, he kept you wedged firmly between his solid form and his brother's, a human shield against any unwanted advances. His hand rested possessively on your thigh beneath the table, his fingers tracing idle patterns against your skin, a private claiming that set your nerves alight.

When the waiter had the audacity to openly flirt with you, going so far as to ask for your number in front of the entire table, a tense silence descended upon the group. Forks paused midway to mouths, eyes darting between you, Osamu, and the oblivious server, a collective breath held in anticipation of the impending fallout.

To everyone's surprise, Osamu remained outwardly calm, his expression betraying no hint of the storm brewing beneath the surface. He allowed you to politely decline the waiter's advances, your words measured and diplomatic, even as your heart raced with a mix of discomfort and irritation.

The waiter, however, seemed determined to push his luck, his eyes lingering on your face, his smile just a touch too friendly, his words laced with a suggestive undertone that made your skin crawl. Atsumu, ever the protective brother, was about to intervene, his patience wearing thin in the face of the waiter's persistence.

But before he could utter a word, Osamu cleared his throat, the sound cutting through the tension like a knife through butter. "Oh, I need to go and close up shop. I'll see you home, honey."

With that, he reached out, his hand cupping the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in the soft strands of your hair. He pulled you in close, his lips claiming yours in a deep, possessive kiss that stole the breath from your lungs and sent your heart into overdrive.

He made a show of it, his tongue delving into the warm cavern of your mouth, his teeth nipping at your lower lip, a soft moan of pleasure rumbling in his chest. When he finally pulled away, you were left breathless and flushed, your lips swollen from the force of his kiss.

The waiter, thoroughly humiliated, could only stand there, his mouth agape, his cheeks stained a deep crimson. Osamu, for his part, merely smirked, a triumphant gleam in his eyes as he slowly walked out of the restaurant.

In the days that followed, Osamu's possessiveness seemed to level off, the tension in his body easing, the constant need to hover at your side diminishing. But his desire to touch you, to stake his claim on your body and soul, remained as insatiable as ever.

One particularly memorable incident occurred on a crowded train, your bodies pressed flush against each other in the cramped confines of the carriage. The gentle sway of the train, the rhythmic clacking of the wheels against the tracks, created a hypnotic backdrop to the charged atmosphere between you.

You felt the ghost of Osamu's touch on the back of your thigh, his fingers grazing the sensitive skin, sending a jolt of electricity racing up your spine. You gasped, your eyes widening as you looked up at him, a silent question in your gaze.

Osamu merely smiled, the curve of his lips soft and affectionate, his eyes alight with a mischievous glint. He leaned down, his nose nuzzling against yours in a tender gesture that belied the heat simmering just beneath the surface.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he whispered, his breath fanning across your face, his words a sinful promise that made your core clench with anticipation. "You just look so irresistible today. I can't keep my hands off of you."

As he spoke, his fingers inched higher, grazing the lace edge of your panties, a teasing touch that set your nerve endings ablaze. Your heart raced, a potent cocktail of excitement and nervousness coursing through your veins, your skin prickling with a heady mix of desire and apprehension.

Osamu's hands were blatantly beneath your skirt now, his fingers kneading the soft flesh of your rear, his touch bold and unapologetic. If the train hadn't been so crowded, your intimate moment would have been on display for all to see, a public claiming that sent a thrill racing down your spine. But Osamu showed no signs of stopping, his lips peppering your face with tender kisses, his touch growing more insistent with each passing second.

The feeling of being desired, of being wanted so fiercely by the man you loved, was intoxicating. The thrill of potentially getting caught only heightened the experience, sending a flood of heat pooling between your thighs.

You leaned into his touch, a soft sigh escaping your lips as you pressed yourself closer to his firm, muscular body. Your hand gripped his bicep, your nails digging into the smooth skin, a silent plea for more.

"Osamu, please..."

The soft, breathless whisper was enough to shatter the last vestiges of his self-control. He kissed you deeply, his tongue delving into the warm cavern of your mouth, a sinful, desperate melding of lips and teeth and tongue.

His hands roamed your body with a fervent urgency, mapping every curve and plane with an intimate familiarity, as if committing each inch of your skin to memory. His touch was a branding, a burning mark of possession, his desire a blazing inferno that threatened to consume you both.

You clung to him, your fingers grasping at his shirt, the fabric clenched tightly between trembling digits, as you tried to ground yourself amidst the tumultuous storm of emotions. Your heart raced, a deafening crescendo pounding in your ears, the very air around you charged with the electric energy of your passion.

Osamu's lips traced a heated path along your jaw, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin, his tongue laving the tiny bite marks, soothing the sting with his gentle ministrations.

"Mine," he breathed, the word a reverent, possessive murmur against your ear, a secret only you were privy to. "All mine."

His hands roamed the supple curve of your ass, his fingers squeezing the pliant flesh, a groan of appreciation rumbling in his chest.

"Fuck, baby, I want you so bad."

His voice was a low, husky rumble, laced with an aching need that made your pussy clench, the heat between your thighs nearly unbearable.

"I want to fuck you right here, in front of everyone, so they know you're mine."

You could feel the hard length of his arousal pressing against you, a tangible proof of his desire, the heady scent of his cologne enveloping you like a cloud. You swallowed thickly, your lips parted in a silent moan, a heady mix of pleasure and fear coursing through your veins.

"God, Samu, please..."

Your words trailed off, your voice a breathless, desperate whisper, as Osamu's hands found their way between your thighs. His fingers grazed the damp fabric of your panties, the feather-light touch eliciting a gasp from you, the sound drowned out by the clamor of the train.

"Fuck, baby, you're so wet for me." His words were a sultry growl, laced with a dark, primal hunger, the sound sending a shiver of desire racing down your spine.

Your mind was hazy, the sensations overwhelming, your body thrumming with a desperate, aching need. Your hips bucked against his hand, a silent plea for more, a plea he was only too happy to oblige.

"That's it, baby, let me take care of you." His fingers slipped beneath the thin, silky fabric of your panties, his thumb brushing against the slick, sensitive bud of your clit, a teasing touch that sent a shockwave of pleasure coursing through your body. You bit back a moan, your teeth sinking into the soft flesh of your lower lip, the faint metallic taste of blood mingling with the sweet, salty taste of Osamu's kisses.

His fingers slid along your dripping folds, the sensation almost unbearably intense, the sound of his voice, a low, sultry murmur, drowning out the chaos around you. "I'm gonna make you feel so good, sweetheart, don't worry."

With that, his fingers plunged inside you, his deft digits stretching you in the most delicious way, a welcome intrusion that made your core clench, a choked whimper escaping your lips.

You clung to him, your face buried in the crook of his neck, the smell of his cologne a heady, intoxicating scent.

Your hips rocked against his hand, a slow, steady rhythm that matched the sway of the train, the friction creating a delicious, aching friction that threatened to send you over the edge.

"Samu, please, I need you," you whispered, your words a breathless, desperate plea, your core clenching around his fingers.

Osamu chuckled, the sound a dark, seductive rumble, the low timbre vibrating through your body. His lips brushed against your ear, his breath fanning against your heated skin, a sensual, forbidden promise. "Don't worry, sweetheart, l'm gonna give you everything you need."

As he spoke, his fingers moved deeper within you, the pads of his digits brushing against the bundle of nerves hidden within your walls, a spot he knew all too well. He increased the pressure, the movements of his fingers unrelenting, the pace building, a slow, torturous crescendo.

The sensations were overwhelming, the pleasure bordering on pain, the air in your lungs burning, the muscles of your thighs quivering, the heat coiling deep within you reaching a fever pitch. You could feel the tears stinging your eyes, the words slipping from your lips a frantic, broken mantra.

"Please, please, please, Samu, please."

"Come for me, sweetheart," he growled, his lips capturing yours in a fierce, passionate kiss, his tongue plunging into the warm cavern of your mouth, a deep, carnal melding of lips and teeth and tongue. His fingers were a relentless piston within you, the sensations pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, a tsunami of pleasure coursing through your veins, the intensity making your knees buckle, your fingers digging into the solid muscles of his biceps. You could feel his smirk against your lips, the smug, satisfied curve of his mouth only adding to the overwhelming sensations.

He slowed his movements, the pace languid and unhurried, drawing out your pleasure for as long as possible, the soft, teasing caresses making your toes curl, a shuddering aftershock rippling through your body. He kissed you deeply, his tongue tangling with yours, his lips lingering against yours, a soft, loving press, before slowly pulling away.

His eyes were hooded, the gray orbs a stormy, smoky shade, his pupils blown wide with desire. His lips were slightly swollen, a rosy pink from the fervent nature of his kisses, the curve of his smile a tender, adoring expression.

"God, I love you," he murmured, his voice a reverent whisper, a sacred declaration.

You could feel the blush blooming across your cheeks, a rosy, flustered flush that made him chuckle. His thumb gently wiped away the stray tear that had slipped from your eye, his touch a reassuring, steadying caress.

He pressed one last, lingering kiss to your lips before carefully extracting his hand from between your thighs. You watched, mesmerized, as he brought his fingers to his lips, his tongue darting out, a sly, teasing lick, his eyes never leaving yours.

"God, baby, you taste so good," he murmured, the words a low, husky rumble, his voice laced with a dark, sensual undercurrent.

"I could eat you all day."

You shuddered, a fresh wave of desire coursing through your veins, the very image a visceral, erotic fantasy come to life. But before you could respond, the train screeched to a halt, the automated voice announcing your stop, the sudden cacophony of voices and movement jolting you back to reality.

You hastily smoothed down your clothes, your hands frantically straightening your skirt, a vain attempt to hide the evidence of your passion. Your hair was a mess, the once carefully styled strands now tousled and tangled, a disheveled testament to the fervent nature of Osamu's affections.

By the time you reached your stop, your body was thrumming with a desperate need, your core aching for the relief that only his cock could provide.

As he led you off the train, his arm wrapped securely around your waist, your mind swirled with a dizzying array of emotions. The intensity of Osamu's love, his unyielding desire to claim you as his own, was both thrilling and overwhelming, a force of nature that threatened to consume you whole.

The moment you crossed the threshold of Osamu's house, the air between you crackled with a palpable tension, a desperate hunger that could no longer be denied. With a growl of impatience, Osamu's strong hand encircled your wrist, his grip firm and unyielding as he tugged you towards the bedroom, his movements fueled by a primal urgency that set your blood ablaze.

The door swung open with a bang, the sound echoing through the quiet house like a gunshot, but neither of you paid it any mind. Osamu's focus was solely on you, his stormy gray eyes darkened with a lust that stole the breath from your lungs and sent your heart into a frenzy.

In a tangle of limbs and gasping breaths, you tumbled onto the bed, the soft mattress yielding beneath your weight. Osamu wasted no time in climbing over you, his body a solid, comforting weight that pressed you into the plush comforter. His legs straddled your hips, his knees bracketing your thighs, keeping you pinned in place, a willing captive to his desire.

Your chest heaved with each ragged breath, your skin prickling with anticipation as Osamu lowered his head, his lips seeking yours in a bruising kiss that stole the air from your lungs. The press of his mouth was demanding, his tongue delving past your parted lips to tangle with yours in a sensual dance that set your nerve endings ablaze.

His hands roamed your body with a desperate urgency, his fingers skimming over the curves and planes of your form, mapping every inch of your skin as if committing it to memory. Each touch, each caress, each scrape of his blunt nails against your flesh sent bolts of electricity racing through your veins, igniting a fire in your core that threatened to consume you whole.

You arched into him, your hands fisting in the fabric of his shirt, your nails digging into the firm muscles of his back as you surrendered to the onslaught of sensations that assaulted your senses. The scent of him, a heady mix of sandalwood and musk, filled your nostrils, intoxicating you with its potency.

The taste of him, a tantalizing blend of mint and spice, lingered on your tongue, leaving you wanting more. The feel of him, his skin burning hot against your own, his muscles flexing beneath your palms, was almost too much to bear.

You were drowning in him, consumed by his love and desire, and you never wanted it to end.

With a groan, he tore his lips from yours, his gaze raking over your flushed features, his breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps. "Mine," he breathed, the word a low, possessive growl that rumbled deep in his chest. "Mine to fuck. Mine to breed."

The promise of his words, the raw, visceral need in his voice, sent a shiver of pleasure down your spine. Your body responded to him instinctively, your thighs parting to allow him access, your core aching with an emptiness that only he could fill.

You were his. And you always would be.

A feral grin spread across Osamu's face, his canines glinting in the low light as he pushed your skirt up, his fingers brushing against the damp lace of your panties. "Look at you, so wet and ready for me," he murmured, his tone laced with a mixture of pride and satisfaction.

"Your body knows who it belongs to, doesn't it?"

You nodded, unable to form a coherent response, the anticipation of what was to come rendering you speechless.

Osamu leaned down, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear as he whispered, "Tell me. Tell me who you belong to."

"Y-you," you stammered, your breath hitching in your throat. "I belong to you, Osamu."

He let out a low rumble of approval, his teeth nipping at your earlobe before he pulled away, his eyes locking with yours. "That's right," he murmured, his voice heavy with desire. "And I'm going to remind you of that, over and over again. I'm going to fill you with my seed until there's no doubt in your mind who you belong to."

Osamu shifted, his knees pushing your thighs wider apart as he settled between your legs, his erection straining against the confines of his pants. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the promise of what was to come making your pulse race and your stomach flutter.

You were desperate for him, aching for the pleasure only he could give you. But before you could reach for him, he grasped your wrists in his hand, pinning them above your head, his grip rough and commanding.

"Stay still," he commanded, his free hand tracing a slow path down your chest, his fingers skimming over the curve of your breast before cupping the mound, his thumb grazing over the taut peak of your nipple.

The sensation sent a jolt of electricity through your body, your back arching off the mattress, a needy moan slipping past your lips.

"Patience," he chided, his touch featherlight as he continued to tease your sensitive bud, his dark gaze drinking in the sight of your flushed cheeks and parted lips.

Arousal pooled between your thighs, the dampness of your panties betraying your desperation.

"So eager," he mused, his fingers pinching your nipple, the sudden burst of pain mixing with pleasure. "But we're just getting started."

Osamu released your wrists, his hand trailing down your stomach, his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties. He dipped lower, his digits finding your slick entrance, teasing the sensitive bundle of nerves with a slow, deliberate stroke.

Your hips bucked against his touch, your need for release becoming unbearable, but Osamu held you in place, his fingers circling your clit with a torturous slowness that made you squirm.

"Please," you begged, your voice breathless and needy. "Please, Osamu. I need you."

"I know," he replied, his tone husky with lust.

"I need you too. I need to fill you with my cum, to breed you like the good little girl you are."

Arousal trickled down your thighs as his fingers stroked your folds, his touch alternating between rough and gentle, his movements designed to push you closer and closer to the edge.

Your heart pounded in your chest, your skin burning with a feverish heat as you teetered on the precipice of orgasm. But just as you were about to fall over the edge, Osamu pulled his hand away, his fingers glistening with your juices.

"Not yet," he murmured, his gaze darkening as he brought his fingers to his lips, his tongue darting out to lick the sticky-sweet liquid from his digits. "I want to savor this."

He pressed his hips against yours, the hard length of his cock straining against the confines of his trousers, the friction sending a shockwave of pleasure through your core.

You could feel the urgency in his touch, the desire coursing through his veins mirroring your own. His desire to claim you, to mark you as his, was undeniable, his need for you almost feral in its intensity.

As his fingers hooked around the waistband of your panties, tugging the damp fabric down your thighs, his breath fanned against your neck, his teeth grazing the delicate skin. "I'm going to breed you. Going to fill your pretty little pussy with my cum, over and over again, until your womb is filled to the brim. I'm going to breed you, and you're going to beg me for it."

The sound of his zipper, followed by the rustle of fabric, sent a thrill of anticipation through your body, your core clenching with need.

Osamu gripped your hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he lined his cock up with your dripping entrance.

"This is mine," he growled, his voice laced with possessive hunger as he pressed into you, his cock stretching your walls with a delicious friction that sent a ripple of pleasure through your body. "And I'm going to make sure everyone knows it."

You clung to him, your nails raking across his back as he buried himself inside you, his girth filling you completely. His thrusts were hard and deep, his pelvis grinding against your clit, the pressure building with each passing second.

Your breaths came in ragged gasps, your eyes locked with his as he fucked you with a ferocious passion, his hips slamming into yours, his cock reaching places that made you see stars.

Your moans mingled with his, the sounds of pleasure filling the air, the two of you lost in a primal dance of ecstasy.

The feeling of him, his thick shaft pulsing inside you, his breath hot against your neck, was almost too much to bear. But just as the familiar tension coiled low in your abdomen, just as the pressure threatened to overwhelm you, Osamu pulled out, leaving you teetering on the brink of release.

"Not yet," he growled, his gaze dark and wild as he flipped you onto your stomach, his hand gripping your hips, pulling you towards him.

Your fingers curled around the sheets, a moan slipping past your lips as his cock teased your entrance, his tip barely grazing your folds.

"I'm not done with you yet," he murmured, his voice laced with desire as he plunged into you, his pace frantic and demanding.

Your walls clenched around him, your body shuddering with each thrust, his name tumbling from your lips in a breathless cry.

"That's it, sweetheart. Take it. Take my cock," he growled, his hand snaking around your throat, pulling you flush against his chest, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. "I'm going to breed you like the little cumdumpster you are. I'm going to fill you so full of my cum that you'll be leaking it for days."

His words ignited a fire in your core, the friction of his cock against your walls sending a wave of pleasure through your body, your climax crashing over you in an earth-shattering orgasm.

Your walls clamped down on him, your body writhing beneath him, his name falling from your lips in a breathless chant.

"Cumming for me already?" he asked, his voice heavy with arousal. "I'm not surprised. Your body was made for this, made for me. You're going to take all my cum, aren't you?"

You could barely form a coherent response, his relentless pounding overwhelming your senses.

The feeling of his cock sliding in and out of you, his grip on your throat tightening, his breath hot against your skin, was almost too much to bear.

The coil within you tightened, the pressure mounting, until it finally snapped, your vision going white as another orgasm crashed over you, even more powerful than the last.

"Fuck," he hissed, his hips stuttering as he reached his own peak, his cock pulsing inside you, spurts of hot cum filling you to the brim.

"That's it. Take it. Take my cum, pretty."

You sagged against him, your limbs trembling, your core clenching around him, milking him for every last drop.

You felt him lean forward, his weight pressing you into the mattress, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear.

"Don't worry, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice a low, husky rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. "I'm not done with you yet. This is just the beginning."

As the minutes passed, you slowly came down from your high, the room coming back into focus, the scent of sweat and sex permeating the air. Your heart hammered in your chest, your body aching from the strain of being used, but Osamu's hold on you was gentle, his touch soft as he cradled you against his chest.

"You did so well, sweetheart," he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple, his fingers trailing over your skin. "I'm so proud of you."

You hummed in response, too exhausted to speak, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulling you into a peaceful sleep.

But the moment his hands began to roam once more, his fingers teasing your still-sensitive folds, his lips trailing down your neck, you knew that the night was far from over.

His touch, his love, his desire, was a drug that you could never get enough of. And as his lips claimed yours in a bruising kiss, his cock hardening against your thigh, you knew that you were powerless to resist.

As the night wore on, the intensity between you and Osamu only seemed to grow, each moment more heated than the last. His touch, his kiss, his very presence consumed you, drawing you deeper into a world where only the two of you existed.

Hours later, as the first light of dawn crept into the room, the evidence of your passion was clear. The bed was a tangled mess of sheets, the pillows scattered haphazardly across the floor. Your clothes lay strewn about, a reminder of the urgency with which they had been discarded.

Your body hummed with a pleasant ache, a physical reminder of the pleasure you had shared. Osamu's arm was draped across your waist, his chest pressed against your back as he slept, his breath tickling the nape of your neck.

Osamu had been true to his word, claiming you again and again, filling you with his cum until your core was dripping with it, the smell of sex permeating the air.

You couldn't remember how many times you had orgasmed, how many times he had driven you to the brink of madness, but the memory of his touch, his lips, his cock, was seared into your mind.

The feeling of him inside you, the warmth of his seed flooding your womb, was enough to make your toes curl.

You could still feel him, his cock still snugly encased within your gummy walls, ensuring that none of his potent seed escaped you while he slept.

Just as you were about to drift off to sleep again, a sudden commotion from the living room jolted you awake. Beside you, Osamu stirred, his brow furrowing in irritation.

"What the hell?" he muttered, his voice rough with sleep.

Before either of you could investigate, the bedroom door burst open, revealing a grinning Atsumu. He took one look at your naked forms tangled together on the bed and let out a low whistle.

"Well, well, well," he drawled, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk. "Looks like someone had a good night."

Osamu grabbed a pillow and chucked it at his brother's head. "Get out, you pervert!"

Atsumu dodged the projectile with a laugh, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, I just came to make sure you two lovebirds were still alive. You weren't answering your phones."

You felt your cheeks heat up, suddenly very aware of your state of undress. Pulling the sheet up to cover yourself, you shot Atsumu a glare. "We're fine, thanks. Now, if you don't mind..."

Atsumu's grin only widened, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Sure, sure. I'll leave you to it. But just so you know, the walls in this place are pretty thin. You might want to keep it down next time."

With a wink and a cackle, he ducked out of the room, narrowly avoiding the second pillow Osamu launched at his head.

Osamu flopped back onto the bed with a groan, throwing an arm over his eyes. "I'm going to kill him."

You couldn't help but laugh, the absurdity of the situation cutting through the lingering tension. "Maybe next time we should go to my place," you suggested, snuggling up to Osamu's side.

He peeked at you from beneath his arm, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Or maybe next time we should be even louder, just to piss him off."

You grinned, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "I like the way you think."

Knots

PAIRING: masseur!Geto Suguru x fem!reader

GENRE: no curses!au | smut (18+)

Minors DNI

TAGS + WARNINGS: fingering, nipple play, semi-public sex/exhibitionism, oral (f receiving), brief masturbation (m), size kink, praise kink, cum eating, light mentions of/brief marking

Let me know if I missed anything.

WORD COUNT: 4.5k

SUMMARY: With so much stress piling up on you, Geto was kind enough to offer you a massage. Unfortunately, no amount of relaxation can distract you from the sexual tension between you and your friend.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: MAPPA can't draw jjk characters like that and expect me not to write smut about em 🙄also: HAPPY NEW YEARS, LOVELIES <3333

© creative-crybaby, do not repost or modify

“Are you sure this is okay?” It’s too late to ask him that, but you couldn’t stop the question from leaving your lips. “I’d hate for you to get in trouble.”

Your face burns as silence follows; you can only thank whatever gods above for him not being able to see your expression.

“I won’t tell if you won’t tell,” he chuckles, and you copy the sound nervously, unsure if he is serious. After a pregnant pause, he adds, “I’m kidding. You have nothing to worry about.” Your peripheral vision catches him moving around you to get to the cabinet. “Consider it a favour from a friend.”

You hear the cabinet door open and shut, and you shift from your spot face down on the table.

“At least let me pay you back somehow,” you press, pouting. 

“That defeats the point of a favour, doesn’t it?” Geto’s footsteps get louder until you catch sight of his shoes from the corner of your eye. There’s another pause, this one longer than the previous one. “Are you comfortable with me unclapsing your bra?” Before you can answer, he quickly continues, “It can stay on like you wanted, I just need the straps out of the way.”

If you aren’t hyping yourself up to take every opportunity to get closer to the masseur, you’re second-guessing your decision to take his offer. Should he follow through with the action, it would only be the beginning of something far more intimate. And you know this. You knew this. Even when Geto first suggested the idea after you opened up about your piling stress and even when you foolishly thought asking Gojo for advice on the offer was a good idea. 

But you’re here now, aren’t you?

“Go for it,” you try to mask whatever uneasiness you can. Gentle fingers tug at the clips at the end of your bra, disconnecting them and allowing the straps to drop. Even with your chest still covered, you feel bare, the cool air tickling the newly exposed area. You have to force yourself from shivering.

“You still like the scent of lavender?” Geto's question catches you off-guard, raising your head from the cushion, not realizing that he recalled such a minor detail. Your silence makes the ravenette turn to you again, offering his easy-going smile. “Or have your tastes changed?”

You nod mindlessly, blinking up at him. “Lavender’s good.”

Geto hums before searching through his cabinet, taking several seconds to find the bottle he was looking for. You rest your head back on the cushion before he can catch you staring.

“I’ll be starting now.” The sound of a bottle cap opening follows your friend’s words. “If you’re ever uncomfortable, don’t hesitate to let me know. Otherwise, just lay back and relax.”

Despite his gentle voice, following his order becomes easier said than done once his large hands come in contact with your back, the oil adding to his skin’s warmth. You bit your lip, the serene scent of lavender reaching your olfactory as the masseur works his magic on your stress. 

You don’t realize how exhausted your body has felt until Geto applies pressure for the first time, and you cringe. 

“Easy, easy,” he soothes, pausing his ministrations once you try to relax your body. “Wow, you are stressed.”

You allow your body to sink further into the table’s mattress when his soft laughter reaches your ears, and you give him the go-ahead to continue. Fingerpads return to your skin, rubbing heavy yet sturdy circles onto your back, untying any and every knot trapping your muscles. You can feel your body fall limp, drowning heavily while at the same time floating into the heavens as every evidence of exhaustion disappears from you. 

Still, even as you try to keep your mind blank and enjoy the moment, you can’t help but notice how much space Geto’s hand takes up on your back. It doesn’t help that they creep up to your neck, more than ready to push the problems away from that area. 

“So,” you trail off, feeling the need to fill the silence rather than embrace it, “You give these massages to Ieiri or Satoru?” 

The ravenette chuckles. “If you’d call the occasional shoulder rub a proper massage, then sure.”

A memory of the four of you at a local diner pops into your head, Shoko telling Geto a shoulder massage was the least she deserved after all the all-nighters she’s suffered through. You giggled, watching the medical student melt under the masseur’s magic touch, ignoring the twinge of jealousy that prodded your mind. 

You quip. “Not even a full-body one? Ieiri’s the one who deserves it the most out of us.”

“Guess she just never has the time for one,” he hums. 

“And Satoru?”

Geto snickers, pausing his actions. You join in on the laughter, a small swell of pride blooming in your chest. 

Your joy is cut short when he resumes the massage, adding pressure to a specific area below the nape of your neck that forces a whimper out of you. You freeze, hoping the masseur didn’t hear it. But with how his hold on you paused, even for just a moment, you couldn’t deceive yourself into believing you were in the clear. 

“Sorry,” you squeak, the warmth from your face expanding to the rest of your body. Could he feel it?

You can hear the smile in his voice. “So tense, aren’t you?”

You don’t miss the octave drop in his voice, biting your tongue. Geto returns to work, his fingers digging into your skin and untying whatever knots your muscles carried for who knows how long. You allow yourself to sigh at the sensation, your brows knitting together from the pressure without the discomfort. 

His hands travel lower, returning to previous areas with added strength until he reaches the small of your back. You try not to tense upon feeling his fingers graze the towel covering your bottom, but you can’t prevent the shaky moan from escaping your lips once his hold shifts to your hips. 

Another pause from him: another apology from you. 

“Nothing for you to be sorry about.” Your friend assures you, though you barely miss the light strain in his tone. “I’ll be working on your legs next, okay?”

You hum lightly, shifting from your spot as he passes what the towel covers. Your thoughts wander before you can put them on a leash, the pang of disappointment from the neglect of that area allowing your imagination to drift. 

Would a massage there even feel good? Geto would undoubtedly find a way, his large hands practically blanketing each cheek. And his fingers—God, they were the stars of the show, finding the spots that needed the most attention and pushing every bit of tension out of your worn-out body. You’re confident his digits would be just as adventurous in other places.

You feel yourself clench around nothing and fear the handsome man above you possibly noticing. Shaking your head, you hope those thoughts fly out like fleas. 

Geto stops. “Too much?”

“Hm?” You snap out of your daze. “Oh, no. I’m fine.”

The masseur’s hands glide up to your upper thighs, and you freeze, his hold remaining in place as he leans closer to your head.

“You don’t have to go through with this if you don’t like it,” he says, his voice calm. “I can return the favour some other way.”

Your body moves before your brain can command it to. Or rather, stop it from doing so. Hastily, you raise your head from the cushion, your upper torso following suit as it twists to face your friend.

“I can take it.” 

Silence. Too much of it for your liking. It has your stomach churning and your heart ramming against your ribs. Maybe it’s the heaviness in your body that follows you getting up too quickly, or your word choice. It could also be how Geto stares at you with parted lips, his eyes on you but not meeting your gaze.

Instead of further embarrassing yourself by speaking, you follow his focus, only to wish you hadn’t. 

Your bra, long forgotten by you, barely hangs onto your body by its straps by your elbows, exposing your back as well as most of your chest. The lavender scent is no longer soothing, the heat on your face is dizzying, and you’d want nothing more than to run out the door if only your legs weren’t practically limp from your friend’s treatment. It doesn’t help that his hold on the back of your upper thighs hasn’t budged. If anything, it’s tightened, his grip making your clit jump.

You suppose you spoke too soon once the warmth of Geto’s touch disappeared from your legs, the masseur having moved to reach for your bra straps to pull them back up to your shoulders before you could process his actions. You blink, eyes trailing up to his face now adorning a rosy hue and soft lips pressed into a thin line. He’s so much closer, his breath barely fanning the top of your head. And if you aren’t forcing your gaze to meet his, you’re impulsively glancing back at his mouth. 

With so much focus on the beautiful man, you don’t catch him slowly but surely leaning in.

The last discernable thing you catch is Geto’s lidded eyes darkening before he presses his lips against yours.

You don’t breathe. You forget to, just like how you leave your mouth slightly agape and your eyes wide open. 

The ravenette pulls away quicker than he’d leaned in, and the corners of your lips twitch downwards. His brows furrow as he looks at you with a brighter flush on his handsome face. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

No. You won’t let him regret his actions, not for your sake. 

The sudden shift in perspective is alarming when, only moments ago, you feared ruining your relationship with your friend. Now, you’re shifting to sit on the massage table, grabbing Geto by his shirt collar, tugging him forward and slamming his lips onto yours. You groan at the impact, relaxing only a second later once he returns the kiss with just as much hunger. 

But he’s still not close enough. His hold remains on your bra straps, making it harder for you to wrap your arms around his neck. It’s the only reason you pull back, locking eyes with him as you place your hands on his. 

“Suguru,” you pant, chest heaving for air as your lids droop. Your following words stay trapped in your throat, the masseur having slid his hold higher up your shoulders to bring you back to the kiss. You squeak, the fervour behind his actions far more evident as his tongue teases your lower lip. He groans into your mouth, his thumbs caressing your skin as you invite him in, eager to have him even closer. 

Your hands are still on top of Geto’s, you remember, and you slide his down your arms while he’s distracted by the kiss. (With how he’s swirling his tongue around yours, you aren’t sure you can call it a “kiss” anymore.)

You pull back hastily, not missing the string of saliva connecting your bottom lips before motioning for him to look down. His sharp eyes do so, blinking out of his haze as he sees how the cups of your bra no longer cover your breasts. You don’t recall when you stopped caring about your face burning like it was on fire, the pride in your chest and lust in your lower belly now the dominant sensations as he looks at you like you’re the most beautiful creature on the planet. 

“Please,” he gulps, an unmissable strain in his voice. “Let me taste you.”

Even after the lewd makeout session, his words left your mouth cotton-dry. You can only kiss him again, guiding his hands to cup your breasts, your bra sliding off your arms. 

When Geto pulls back, his lips reattach to your skin, trailing down your neck to the valley of your mounds. He lightly pushes you to lie down on the table, making yourself comfortable before plopping one of your nipples into his mouth, the other one between his fingers. Your own hands loosen his hair from its bun, the strands falling gracefully onto his broad back. They’re as soft as they look, your fingers streaming through the midnight locks like water past the pebbles in the river. 

The masseur switches his treatment, the other nipple now teased by the grazing of his teeth while his large hand keeps the second breast from neglect. Your body feels hot, and the warmth of his mouth does little to soothe the issue. But with how much you’ve been rubbing your thighs together, you’d hardly consider this a problem now. 

Your hands remain in his hair as Geto continues kissing down your body, stopping just at the apex of your thigh to peer at you with those dark pools for irises. One of his hands removes the towel from your lap, revealing your thin shorts underneath. He tugs at the waistband, silently asking for your permission. Your response consists of your hips rising from the table, and he’s quick to shimmy your remaining clothes off your body, stealing another passionate kiss from you in the process. 

“I want nothing more than to hear every sound I get out of you,” your friend (can you still call him that?) pants, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards and his face flushed as he watches your reaction through hooded lids. You lean in, chasing his lips for another kiss. He stops you with a finger, and you hold back the whine squeaking from your throat. He chuckles. “But I’m going to need you to keep your voice down. Can you do that for me?”

You almost forgot that you’re in a public setting, even with the privacy of a closed door. Geto warmly smiles when you nod, and he lowers himself to face your crotch, helping you shift to let your legs dangle off the table. You find his eyes widening upon catching sight of your bare cunt already drooling your essence. The ravenette exhales shakily before planting a kiss on your clit, making you twitch. Your reaction makes him chuckle, and he licks long strips against your slit, moaning through his languid movements. 

“What was that about being quiet?” You giggle breathily, leaning your weight on your hands. Geto pauses. 

“Sorry, beautiful,” he whispers with a smile, tightening his hold on your thighs. “You taste like a dream.”

You throw your head back as your eyes flutter shut, his words and continued ministrations between your legs setting your body ablaze and your mind blank. It doesn’t help that he’s practically encouraging you to cage him tightly between your thighs, squeezing his head in place as he makes out with your cunt. Your hips grind into his touch, moving in tandem with his soft lips and warm tongue. 

Even with his sensual movements, you can tell he’s holding back, if his tight hold on the fat of your thighs is any indication. Your hips grind into his touch, allowing him permission to feast on you how he’d like, gripping a fistful of his locks for further encouragement. And the masseur seems to have gotten the message, his tongue digging inside you while his nose nudges at your pearl. 

Holding back your sounds of pleasure is already a challenge—warning the handsome male beneath you of your oncoming release doesn’t even seem possible, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as the sensation in your lower belly grows stronger. 

And maybe Geto doesn’t need you to tell him. Or maybe, he’s just so lost in the taste of your essence that he’s decided to wrap his soft lips around your puffy clit and suck, the tip of his tongue flicking at the nub at the same time. Whatever the case, his actions do the trick, your hold on his head tightening as your legs shake while your jaw falls slack. The ravenette doesn’t falter, pushing himself closer to your cunt, his mouth working its magic and creating sounds that would embarrass you if it weren’t for the ringing in your ears.

Coming down from the high, plus the massage, has you losing your hold on yourself. Luckily for you, Geto quickly rises from his spot, catching you by the waist and pulling you into another kiss with a soft groan. Your taste on your tongue and the need for air make you dizzy, but you bring him closer regardless. 

“‘M sorry,” he pants after ending the kiss, his chin shining with your slick. “Just had to show you how good you taste.”

You can only whimper in response, feathering kisses on his lips as you play with his hair. Geto happily lets you, his large hands mapping your torso and thighs as if burning every curve into his memory. 

“Didn’t know this came with the free massage,” you mumble against his mouth, holding back a smile. 

“There’s plenty more where that came from,” he purrs, moving you back down on your stomach like you weigh nothing. You hear the rustling of clothing, and before you can ask him what he’s doing, you feel a weight hovering over your figure. Familiar, large hands splay open on either side of your head while muscular thighs cage your legs in place. “Do you trust me?”

Something pokes your lower back, and you almost forget to answer with the masseur’s hot breath against your ear. You lift your hips to grind against his crotch with a whimper, hoping that’ll be more than enough for him. 

Your actions make Geto laugh, and he teasingly nibbles at your earlobe. “Use your words, darling.”

It doesn’t help that he’s taken his tip to glide across your slit, collecting your juices as a lubricant. You twist your head to face him, one of your hands gripping on the cushion above you as a distraction.

“I’ve been waiting a lot longer for this moment than you know,” you confess meekly, watching as the ravenette’s eyes widen and lips part from your words. “And I don’t think I can keep it up any longer.”

You worry you’ve revealed too much too soon when you’re met with silence. But when that familiar smile and soft gaze grace Geto’s features, the nerves fluttering in your stomach evaporate. 

The handsome male presses a kiss against your temple. “That makes two of us, then.”

With only a few seconds to register his confession, your heart does a doubletake before you feel Geto lead his cock into your heat, his hand gripping yours as reassurance. The subtly painful stretch that follows suit makes you grateful for the gesture, your insides splitting in half as he just keeps going in. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, feeling every vein graze against you. 

The masseur notices, it seems, and he whispers encouraging words in your ear, giving you the occasional kiss on your shoulder.

“There you go,” he drawls quietly, his crotch meeting your ass. “Nice and full, aren’t you?”

You exhale shakily, feeling his strong chest pressed against your back. On rare occasions, when Geto wears tight-fitting shirts, you’re blessed with the sight of his chiselled physique, especially his back, since he can’t catch you ogling. The chance to leave your mark there, like an artist’s signature on a painted canvas, is one you’ve longed for. However, with the knot in your belly ready to snap without having him even move makes you grateful for the current position. Maybe next time you’ll get to see all of him. 

Next time. 

“Can I move, darling?” Geto's breath tickles your skin. “I’m afraid I won’t last too long with how you’re squeezing me.”

The almost boyish giggle he breathes out has your heart rocketing in your ribs. Your affirmation comes out weak, but the masseur hears it loud and clear. He reels his hips back, but it’s when he buries his shaft back into you that you feel your eyes roll back once more. Your jaw falls open, a moan slipping out as he sets a languid yet deep pace. 

“We need to keep quiet, remember?” Geto shushes, his face buried in your neck. “My massages are good, but even outsiders might grow suspicious if you’re too loud.”

His soft laughter mixes with your pleading whine. “You’re not making it easy for me.”

The ravenette halts his movements, much to your dismay. Even with you wiggling your hips, he doesn't budge, and you’re about to ask him about the holdup before he beats you to it. 

“You think it’s easy for me?” The soothing lilt of his voice is long gone, replaced with a low timbre that has you clenching around his girth. “I’ve got you milking me for all I’m worth, and we barely started. What do you think that does to me?”

You feel his teeth graze your skin, making you shiver as you try to regain friction between your legs. Geto's stronger than you, much stronger, and your movements don’t make him budge. 

With a quivering sigh, you prop yourself on your forearms, and he retracts from his hiding spot in your neck. You face him, lids hanging low on your eyes and face warmer than it should be. 

“Show me.”

With a smirk, Geto pulls himself out until only his tip remains before slamming back into you. You choke on a gasp, his pace and strength relentless as his hips slap against your ass, the sounds bouncing off the walls. You can’t even call him out on his hypocrisy as you bury your face into the table, hoping it’ll help mask your cries. 

It doesn’t, of course. But Geto Suguru, ever the gentleman, carefully lifts your head by your neck and, while hovering over you, slams his lips against yours. The position isn’t the most comfortable, but you don’t find yourself complaining as he rams into you, filling you up and moulding your insides into the shape of his cock.

Your eyes don’t know what to do, from squeezing shut to crossing. At one point, you catch the door in your peripheral vision, and the thought of potentially getting caught has you clenching, your hand reaching for the masseur’s bicep and digging your nails into his pale skin. 

Geto grunts. “You trying to make me cum, beautiful?”

His playful tone makes you whine, his pace never faltering as he sneaks one of his hands under you to grope one of your breasts. The toying of your nipple, along with the male’s relentless thrusts, fuels the coil in your belly, and what does the trick is him leaving his mark on your neck. 

With a drawn-out gasp, your body stills, toes curling and tongue lolling out as your pussy convulses. You hardly notice Geto’s strokes growing sloppy, his whispered cursing going in one ear and out the other. Having him lead you to heaven is plenty for you. 

Once you calm down, though, you feel like he’s pulled out too soon. You groan, your ears catching the light sounds of him shuffling from his spot above you, followed by a rapid squelching noise that has you peeking over your shoulder. 

There, in all his naked glory, is Geto stroking his cock, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth and eyes zeroed in on your figure. 

“Shit, shit—” he cuts himself off with a gasp, ropes of cum shooting from his slit and landing on the back of your thighs. The sight alone has you clenching, the need for him inside you arising once more. “Oh, fuck—”

Anyone would grow angry at a mess thrown at them. You’re no different, just worse (the one time Gojo accidentally made you ruin your eyeliner is more than enough proof—the poor fool).

 And yet, having painted your thighs white by Geto, his seed clinging to your oily (and now sweaty) skin, you somehow find yourself falling for him more. 

“Suguru,” you slur, your eyelids fluttering as you allow your body to slump back onto the table. You feel his weight disappear before hearing footsteps grow louder. Through tired eyes, you’re face-to-face with his crotch, causing you to squeak as your upper body jolts up again. 

“Sorry, sorry,” the masseur chuckles, crouching to meet you at eye level. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

The atmosphere returns to the comforting one his work ought to bring, though a part of you finds yourself fidgety. The ravenette wipes away the evidence with a wet towel, and it’s enough to keep you in place and relaxed as he continues to take care of you. 

Once done, he helps you sit up, keeping you steady as your legs dangle off the table.

“I think you fucked the bones out of me,” you croak, and Geto pauses midway from sliding your underwear back up your legs. He laughs a soft, boyish laugh, the melody bringing a smile to your lips and a warmth of embarrassment to your cheeks. “Is this what you had in mind by doing me a favour?”

He pecks your nose before resuming dressing you. “No, but I’m not complaining with the results.”

You hum, and the silence returns as he aids you with the rest of your clothes. 

It isn’t until he’s slipping his boxers back on that you speak again. “You don’t give this kind of special treatment to the others?”

A witless, little joke on your part, though your tone didn’t match. Maybe it was the exhaustion that took charge or a sliver of self-consciousness that needed assurance that you had him all to yourself. Still, you press your lips into a thin line, awaiting his answer. 

“To our friends or my clients?” he inquires, putting on the remainder of his clothes. “Either way, the answer’s no.” When you don’t say anything else, he approaches you, nudging his nose against yours. “Did you want me to?”

Your head snaps up to meet his amused gaze. “No!”

Geto's joking smile eases into a sincere one, his strong arms wrapping around your waist and embracing you. 

“Perfect,” he breathes, pressing his lips to your temple. “Guess that means you’re the only one who gets my special treatment.” A pause, followed by a sheepish giggle. “As long as we do it outside of my job. I’d like to keep it, you know.”

From your position, you peer over his shoulder to where the door stands a few meters away, shut and locked but keeping you in suspense. With heat bubbling in your face, you hide in the crook of his neck. 

“You technically never finished my massage,” you mumble against his skin, your hands tracing any muscle it can reach on his back. Geto pulls back from the hug, jutting his bottom lip as if pondering.

“I suppose you’re right,” he hums before another smile breaks onto his features. “Shall we continue back at my place, then?”

© creative-crybaby, do not repost or modify

“ she said she was struggling with her anatomy homework, so i offered to help! ”

໒꒰ྀི∗ɞ̴̶̷ ·̮ ɞ̴̶̷∗꒱ྀིა .*･｡ﾟ⌒ medical student!suguru geto x f!reader / nsfw — mdni / pillow humping / oral (m -> f) + fingering + snowballing / praise + petnames / raw sex / slight breeding + creampie / dacryphilia / dedicated 2 ma resident sugu luvrs @atsumeii @getosbunny @shadowsorceress / 1.6k wc ♱ masterlist.

med student!suguru, who you'd met in ANAT 2LL3— your human anatomy course— and garnered feelings for almost instantly. with his long black hair often kept up in a bun, pretty eyes that turned crescent-mooned whenever he flashed you that infectious smile of his, and a deep laugh that had your heart beating in your abdomen, it was hard not to. as shameful as it made you feel— it was especially hard not to grind your bare cunny down against your pillow at the thought of his soft pink lips on your clit and his silver-clad fingers knuckles deep inside your walls, the baritone rumbling of his voice playing in your mind on loop distracting you from your studies and keeping you up far too late at night.

med student!suguru, who took quite a liking to you too— to the shy smiles you’d send him whenever he caught your gaze, to the slight peek of your tongue pushing past your lips as you'd furiously scribble down notes in lecture, to the coquettish lilt in your voice whenever you’d greet him by that cute nickname you gave him—but it’s the way you meekly tug on his shirt and bat your lashes at him that sends his brain into overdrive. he knows you’re just trying to get his attention, but the act of your fingers grappling at his sleeve and whining out that you need his help evokes some carnal desire in him that makes him want to break you; to break you and then baby you, kissing the tears off your cheeks as he tells you just how good you’re being for him.

med student!suguru, who, after hearing you tell him how worried you are for the final exam, offers to study with you— his warm palm a reassuring grip on your thigh and voice honeyed when he asks, “why don’t you let me take some stress off of you?”

med student!suguru, who invites you to his dormitory to study, and it’s when he pats down the empty space on his bed next to him that you realize you may not get much studying done tonight. everything goes smooth sailing at first— he’s coaxing cute giggles from you when he draws skeletons over your hand and up your arm to help you memorize the name of each bone, ligament, tendon, and muscle— but his marker is quick to get replaced by the tips of his fingers when he gets to your neck, the cold tips of his digits sending chills down your spine as they leave lingering touches across your collarbone and down your sternum.

med student!suguru, who keeps his mauve irises locked onto the way your lashes flutter and your lips part as he calmly palms your breast, the pad of his thumb innocently skimming over a pebbled nipple through your thin shirt. his ministrations have you keening into his touch, soft whines escaping your throat as your thighs squeeze shut and a fire begins to burn in the pit of your stomach. a single, hushed "please" falls from your lips onto his ears, and it's all he needs to hear before his mouth latches onto your neck, kisses and licks followed by mutters of the names of each artery and vein that lie under the supple skin there heating up your insides.

med student!suguru, who skips eight chapters worth of testable content when he jumps from structural to female reproductive anatomy. his fingers make hasty work to pull off his hoodie as his lips travel south, leaving dark bruises along his trail until he reaches the waistband of your skirt and his torso is bracketed in between your legs. his eyes scan over your face, and god, you look so pretty from this angle— with your bottom lip trapped between your teeth and restless fingers bunching up the cotton fabric by your side, cunny clenching around nothing in a search for something to alleviate the tension building up in your core. and before you know it, suguru's getting on his elbows and placing the backs of your knees atop his shoulders, balmy palms running the far-too short skirt you were wearing up your thighs to bunch up at your waist.

med student!suguru, who can smell the arousal emanating off of you when he’s greeted by your now soaked, panty-clad cunny in front of his face. his lips are puckered up against the swell of your clit over the damp fabric, the edges curving into a smirk when desperate mewls and choked breaths fall onto his ears. he’s quick to heed your inarticulate requests, deftly pushing your panties to the side with his index and middle fingers, running them up and down your folds to collect the milky essence that’s started to seep out of you. entranced by the stringy strand of residue that connects the pads of his fingers to your clit when he pulls back— he replaces them with his nose as he gently prods the swollen nub, lips grazing over your slick warmth, “gonna let me have a taste of you, pretty girl?”

med student!suguru, who, after hearing your drawn-out whines of agreement, wastes no time in pressing his tongue flat against your drooling hole and licking a long, slow stripe from the base all the way up to your clit— anatomy notes long forgotten as they get shuffled off the bed. he watches through hooded eyes at the way your lips twist and contort to release breathy moans of his name— the neediness lacing your voice sending cold flames up his body. a tease is what he is, the deliberate strokes of his tongue sheathed in your cunny driving you up the walls as you grapple with the dark roots of his hair trapped in between your fingers, losing all sense of sanity as you feel the burning in the pit of your stomach start to grow unbearably hot.

med student!suguru, whose cock twitches and heart swells at your tiny, broken whimpers of, “wanna cum— wanna cum on your cock, sugu’”. he grins at the realization of how you have him wrapped so tightly around you finger, pulling away from your leaking cunny almost immediately when your words fall onto his ears. he admires the thin sheen of sweat covering your half-bare frame as he leans back on his haunches and pulls his cock out of his slacks, letting it slap up against your abdomen— thumbs pressing down on the tip where it meets your skin, “look how deep you can take me, doll… gonna fill you up nice ‘nd tight.”

med student!suguru, who kisses you deeply after eating you out, tossing the remnants of your slick from his tongue onto yours while he eases his length inside your slick cunny. his cream-stained fingers wipe away the tears that pool at the corners of your eyes before they have the chance to spill over your lash line and he dotes on you, sweet praise whispered into your ears about how beautiful you look with your glazed-over eyes, how good your walls feel around him, how you’re an angel on earth— but it all goes past your head as the only thing you can make out behind your wracked sobs is suguru speaking in tongues.

med student!suguru, whose hands are gentle on your face, but whose hips tell a different story. his thrusts begin slow and calculated, drawing you out to your limits before you begin to claw at his back and your body breaks into trembles beneath him. and then he’s rocking and grinding into your cunny almost dizzyingly fast, the bulbous head of his cock prodding the one spongy spot inside you that makes you burst in no time— arousal coating his groin while your walls clamp down on him and keep his full length locked in place, “you hear that? your greedy lil’ cunt’s suckin’ me in so good— fuck— she’s all mine, yeah?”

med student!suguru, whose stomach twists at your broken cries and the mindless, almost incomprehensible words that leave your lips— the sheer girth of his cock leaving you feeling full— too full to think straight. suguru thinks he's doing okay, thinks he can hold out for a while longer, but when you begin to babble "cum in me, cum in me, cum in me—" repeatedly, as if it were some mantra— the thin rope of restraint keeping him together snaps before he's able to realize it. he empties his load inside your womb with erotically slow thrusts, savouring every drag of your wet walls along his twitching cock as he's milked dry.

med student!suguru, who pulls your lace panties back up your legs after he’s done, eyeing the slowly growing wet patch on your crotch— a result of his thick seed seeping out of you, little dribbles of it dripping down your thighs. before he has a chance to lick it off, you reposition yourself on your elbows and knees in front of him; he watches, bewitched by the slight wiggle of your hips as you arch your back and wrap your palm around his still-hard cock, sucking in air at how it jumps at your touch. his head lolls back as you bring his tip to your pouty lips, thumbing off the final beads of cum that sit atop his slit, and he thinks the next words you say— seemingly unconniving and innocent— are enough to send him tumbling into another orgasm, “can you teach me male reproductive anatomy next?”

thx 4 reading i hope u luvd it ໒꒰ྀི∩´͈ ᐜ `͈∩꒱ྀིა reblogs + comments r so appreciated <3

REINER AS A LUMBER JACK

FT. LUMBERJACK!REINER X READER

SUMMARY: getting fucked raw by reiner cause you can’t get over how big and strong he is!

CONTENT WARNINGS: established relationship, black coded, modern!au, head canon format to regular format, lumberjack!reiner, definitely one of those sexy southern dudes, size kink, mentions of size difference ofc, fingering, slight cervix fucking, outdoor sex, bulging mentioned, cream pie and yeah… lmk if i missed anything!

WORD COUNT: 3.0k……… istg it was supposed to be like 1k words max 😭

NOTES FROM SIN: wishing that i could get the sudden boost to write my thousand wips like how this came to me, i’m so mad that i could say lumberjack!reiner and immediately think up the entirety of this fic in 5 minutes…. is this my rei rei era 🫣

Keep reading

# when his child comes home with a love letter !

✫ ft: dad! akaashi , sakusa , atsumu , kuroo , iwaizumi , suna

✫ a/n: the kids are in elementary school (so think kindergarten & 1st grade!) i don’t specify that reader is a parent for the sake of not using gendered terms such as “mom” !!

✫ AKAASHI is a bit surprised when his son shows him the love letter, urging him to read it. keiji looks it over and nods along as his son tells him about the classmate he got the love letter from. he has to admit, it’s quite cute seeing his shy and collected boy so happy about a little sheet of paper covered in hand-drawn hearts. “how about we right one back?” keiji sits his son down beside him and helps him write a polite letter thanking his classmate for professing their feelings to him. and as his son scribbles out the words in his childish handwriting, keiji smiles to himself, wishing he had the courage to write love letters when he was a young boy.

✫ SAKUSA can’t help but feel disgusted. every morning, he drops his pretty girl off to school, little bows in her hair that looks like his, to learn, so why is she coming back home with a pink heart-shaped paper covered in “i love you”s? she walks up to him and holds up the letter, giggling and smiling as she tells him about the cute boy who sits across from her. “you’re too young for boys, angel, why don’t we write each other love letters instead?” he kisses her cheeks repeatedly as she swings her legs back and forth in her seat, making the prettiest letter for her dad.

✫ ATSUMU tells his daughter about how he “used to get a lot of those in my day.” to be honest, atsumu is kind of upset that his daughter got a love letter (from a boy who probably picks his nose, he thinks). she’s still young — he wishes that she’d give all her love and attention to her dad, not some random boy at school. he hides his feelings, though, and tells her, “of course ya got one, my baby’s the cutest!” and when she pulls him in for a hug that night, giving him a kiss on the cheek as she does every night, atsumu feels secure knowing that she’s so loved.

✫ KUROO chuckles when his son tries to hide the love letter behind his back. of course, he sees it and proceeds to ask him about it. his son tells him that a girl gave it to him during recess, and that he wants to ask her to be his girlfriend. kuroo prides himself in knowing that his son got his confidence. “we should get her something, yeah? what about a spelling book?” kuroo’s son glares at his dad, feeling oh so offended that he insulted his soon-to-be girlfriend. but being the incredible dad he is, kuroo sends his son to school the next day with handmade chocolate covered pretzels and a pat on the back (for good luck).

✫ IWAIZUMI feels embarrassed when his daughter comes home with a love letter. how is he supposed to tell her that these are grown-up things? he chuckles at the thought of a little boy writing her a love letter. he never wrote love letters as a kid (he always had trouble expressing his emotions to those he loves). and even though hajime wants to tell his daughter that she shouldn’t be receiving love letters, he decides against it. “daddy, can we invite him to watch godzilla with us?” how can he say no when his favorite girl wants to spend time with her dad, as well?

✫ SUNA simply looks at his daughter in awe, mouth gaping slightly, as she jumps around and giggles at the drawing of her and her classmate. he takes the love letter from her, mumbling that it “isn't even a good drawing.” but she's having fun with her little schoolgirl crush, so he doesn't say anything else. that night, he goes to her room to see what she’s up to before going to bed, and she tells him to help her choose the colors for her drawing. of course, he sits down cross-legged on her purple carpet and hands her crayon after crayon so she can finish her own love letter before she goes to bed. with a kiss to her head, he just hopes her dreams will be full of memories of her and her dad.

reblogs are appreciated ♡´･ᴗ･` ♡

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.

Kirara ⭐️

plug me | issei matsukawa

× a/n : this is my addition to the ukai nation ' take a ride with me ' collab ! i wasn't exactly pleased with my writing this time around, but im going to post anyways, so i hope you'll all enjoy it.

× summary : you and your plug issei have had the hots for each other for quite awhile.

x warnings ! : f!reader, weed, selling weed, plug! mattsun , usage of weed / marijuana , sex under the influence , oral fem! receiving , finger sucking , degradation , face slapping , dub con? (a little, just in case) , mentions of male masturbation , vaginal penetration , squirting , he finishes inside, not proofread. let me know if i missed anything <3

matsukawa had always had some sort of thing for you, whether it was just him thinking you were cute, or fuckable, he had always had eyes for you. of course you hadn't exactly noticed, convinced that a guy as attractive as mattsun wouldn't be interested in you, instead, he was just nice.

but god was it the complete opposite. you'd never know how many nights he'd fisted his cock thinking about you, just after you had left from buying a bag from him. how many times he'd turned down girl after girl, having only you occupying his mind.

it was obvious to his roommate hanamaki, who observed every grin on issei's lips when you would text. he'd notice the way mattsun would change his clothes before you arrived, obvious when he watched issei throw extra buds of weed into your sacks time and time again.

this time though, makki wouldn't be around to witness it, having gone to stay with family for a little while, issei had been left alone. this thought circulates in the back of his mind as he stares down at your form through a slightly cracked front door, brows raised up slightly as he fights every urge to look your body up and down, dressed up real cute in one of those velvet night sets.

"hey sorry i didn't text.. i forgot. can i get a quarter?" you ask so sweetly, so saccharine that he couldn't possibly say no even if he had wanted to. your keys jingle in your hand as you clasp both hands together beneath your bust, and this time, issei deliberately looks you up and down, tongue poised between his teeth. he licks at his bottom lip, allowing the door to swing all the way open, revealing his white tank top and grey sweatpant clad body. "course you can, sweetheart. come on in,"

he turns on his heel, silver chain resting pretty on his chest glinting under the porch light for just a split second. you feel your heart hammering in your chest as you step in behind him, eyes surveying the all too familiar layout of his apartment. you feel flustered from him even just looking at you, a hand coming up to rub at your cheek.

you take a seat on his couch, and moments later he sits down beside you, a scale and a jar of weed in his hands. the cushions dip in beneath his weight, and issei makes quick work of measuring out your desired amount of greenery. to avoid staring at him, you fumble around with your wallet to pull out a twenty dollar bill,

"you got any plans tonight?"

you nearly drop your wallet at his deep baritone suddenly meeting your ears, his expectant gaze right on you as he puts your weed in a zip lock bag. you go braindead for just a quick moment, staring at him dumbfoundedly as you process his question, too worked up already.

he grins, eyebrows raising up. you feel dumb, but he thinks you couldn't be cuter. "no.. was probably just gonna smoke and go to bed.." you trail off, looking away from him and across the living room area. your attention is only drawn back when the bag of weed is placed in your lap, issei's long fingers then reaching for the bill in your hand. there's a moment of silence as he pauses, eyes locking onto yours over the exchange of money in your hands. it's like he's building up courage, lips parting to speak as the crisp twenty finally slips from your grasp and he folds it into itself. "then do you want to share a blunt with me before you go?"

issei feels the corners of his lips curling into a wide smirk, watching as your pretty little eyes widen to the size of saucers. you're so dumb innocent, the way you open your mouth to speak yet no words come out, leaving you gaping like a fish out of water.

you want to ask why, why he would want to smoke with you. why everytime he even glances at you your cunt clenches around nothing and flutters. but the only thing that you can get past your lips is a, "s-sure." to which he smiles, yet another breathtaking grin. your heart is hammering in your chest as he packs the weed into a wrap, bringing it up to his lips before pausing and looking over at you.

"you know, you're my favorite customer."

he says this casually, nonchalantly as if it wasn't anything at all. matsukawa keeps his eyes on you as he drags the tip of his tongue over the edge of the blunt, wetting the paper and smoothing it up with his lip as he uses his fingers to roll it tightly. you swallow down the lump in your throat, feeling rather /hot/ as you watch him continuously lick at the joint. "i-i am?"

his lingua follows the seam of the blunt all the way from one end to the other, brows raising with sheer amusement because this was exactly the question he was hoping you'd ask, exactly the moment and opportunity he had been waiting to seize.

he remains quiet for a moment, igniting his lighter and running the flame over the blunt to dry it. he keeps his gaze locked onto you, looking through the orange hue that flickers over his frontispiece from the lighter. instead of answering your question, he leans forward with his knees on his elbows, brows raised up to his hairline. "don't act clueless sweetheart. you're pretty and dumb, but you can't be that dumb."

"but i don't—" the blunt is presented to you, rolled precisely and tightly. you go to take it, hesitantly and tentatively, but issei suddenly pulls it back, "nu-uh. ill light it for you. now go on and wrap those pretty lips around it for me, yeah? behave and ill tell you why you're my favorite." his eyes gleam, looking at you as if he's a predator and you're his prey. he bites down on his bottom lip with his front teeth as you finally take the blunt into your mouth, lips plump and glossy. issei leans even closer now, bringing the lighter up to the other end,

"you're my favorite cause you're so good. so pretty, always wearin' those little outfits when you come to see me. all dolled up, just for me." he grins, flicking the lighter and bringing it over the blunt to light it. he watches as the edges begin to curl and the weed begins to glow with heat, "you just want me to smoke you out and fuck you dumb, isn't that right?"

was he wrong? absolutely not. but, who wouldn't want to fuck their ridiculously hot drug dealer? issei was.. different. the way he acted, the way he talked, moved, carried himself. he was unlike any other man you had met before. it sparked something within you.. the desire for something more with the guy who regularly sold you weed.

you hadn't been trying to catch his attention, initially. for awhile, you just admired him when you had the chance, bought your weed and went home. it was only after a visit to buy weed in which you had brought a friend, had she convinced you that issei liked you. she swore by it, claiming that it was obvious in the way he looked at you. soon after, you began purposely seeking his attention, and making more frequent visits to his apartment.

the smoke that enters your lungs burns, it always does, but it burns just right. it wasn't too strong, not suffocating, but it's issei's words that make you choke, sucking in a bit too hard and a bit too fast. he pulls the blunt back, lips pooching into a pout. "aw, too much? stupid little baby can't even take a hit?"

it's raunchy, the way those mean words made you cunt throb, the way his behavior has your cunt leaving a wet, sopping spot beneath you on his couch. you inhale deeply after exhaling the rest of the smoke, looking up at him with glassy eyes. you knew where this was headed, what he wanted and what he meant by saying you were his favorite. how dumb would you be to pass up this opportunity?

you nod your head, fingers reaching up to splay across his lower stomach, cleverly using that as a crutch to help you move closer to him. "need your help, issei."

"yeah?" fuck, you were such a little tease, already riling him up like that. cock already pressing against the cloth of his sweatpants. he's grinning, bringing the blunt to his lips and taking a deep hit. he holds it in his lungs, free hand taking a tight grip over your chin. he uses his thumb to pry your lips apart, and in a strained voice he tells you, "open."

you do as your told, but not before sealing your lips around his thumb and sucking for just a moment. when you finish, he leans forward, moving his thumb and holding onto your face even tighter. you feel the brush of his lips against yours, and before you can react, he's exhaling all the smoke he was holding in right into your mouth.

long, slightly rough digits squeeze your cheeks tightly as he watches you suck in the second hand smoke. "good girl." you already feel buzzed, just barely lightheaded. you smile with lidded eyes, and when you've held the hit in your lungs long enough to be satisfied, you pucker your lips and slowly blow it across his face.

between hits off the blunt and lips continuously clashing, you find yourself topless and splayed across the cushions of his couch, the smoke that the two of you had been blowing out now thick in the atmosphere of his apartment.

issei's chain thumps against his chest as his own shirt slides over his head, a smirk playing on his lips as it drops to the floor and he leans over you, trailing his lips from the edge of your bare hip all the way up to your lips. you let your hand cup his cheek, fingers running through his curls as you pull him in for a kiss. he grips your side as his lean waist settles between your legs, hard cock resting comfortably against your cunt.

the way your lips move against his feels as if it's in slow motion, smacking together and tongues poking and sliding. he grinds against you, eliciting a gasp from you that he more than happily swallows. he kisses you one last time, pulling back with a sharp inhale and a "fuck" as he takes in the sight of you, laid out on his couch half naked and pretty, so sweet and syrupy it could have given him a cavity.

"real pretty for me, aren't you?" he asks with a rhetorical tone, eyes glancing downward as he buries his fingers under the waistband of your shorts and pulls them back, elastic snapping against your skin sharply. you keen, desperately lifting your hips up off the couch. he takes this opportunity to tug your bottoms halfway down your thighs, enough that he's able to easily glide them over your knees and throw them aside.

almost immediately you bring your hands to cover your face, far too embarrassed by your soiled panties that were exposed for him to see. he cups your pussy, not even phased by the warm cloth sticking to his skin. issei grinds his palm into your hypersensitive clit, "look at me while i play with your sloppy pussy."

two digits slide up and down the shape of your slit, panties wet and malleable. he toys with the wet cloth just a little more, soon peeling it away from your body. it drags down your thigh, leaving a glistening trail of slick across your smooth skin. instead of dropping your undergarments to the ground, he slides them into his pocket. he doesn't give you the opportunity to call him out on it, because he's spreading your legs and leaning forward, a strong hand placed firmly on your knee.

the warmth of his tongue laps at your thigh, licking up any smear of your juices greedily. the room around you spins, and even with issei tonguing closer and closer to your cunt you can't help but squeeze your eyes closed, head falling back in tandem with the first stroke of the tip of his tongue against your clit. "oh god—"

you don't know if you're sensitive because your high or if you're just that hot for matsukawa, but you don't have the right mindset to figure it out, spine delicately arching as he flattens his tongue against your throbbing bundle of nerves, slowly working himself deeper and deeper between your lower lips. fingers fly down between your legs, gripping and tugging at his curls to which he gives you a low and throaty groan. it reverberates through your pussy, and when your legs dare to snap shut he's prying them open with an iron grip over the back of your knee, gaze intense as if he's telling you not to do it again.

theres a kiss placed to your apex, and then another and another until he's sloppily tonguing and sucking, flickering against your entrance before gliding back up. your mouth hangs agape, only silent squeal and the occasional gasp leaving it while you gush and writhe against him, coming closer and closer to your peak.

just as soon as you begin to feel your orgasm building up in your gut, issei brings two fingers up to your tight little hole. he sucks down on your clit with a vacuum like seal as he plunges them both deep inside, eyes nearly rolling back at the way your cushiony walls close in around them.

he feels impatient, but as much as he'd like to shove his sweats down and shove his cock inside of you, he knows he's got to get you prepped. especially for the first time the two of you would be together like this.

with quick precision he curls his fingers up into that tender spot he knows is there, rubbing the pads of his fingers against it repeatedly. he breaks the seal of his mouth on your cunt when he feels you tense up, a sharp cry breeching your gaped lips. he's moving quickly to hover above you, eyes trained on your face as he pumps both fingers in and out of you. issei's palm slaps against your cunt, over and over again with only milliseconds between as he jerks his hand even faster.

"m— im gonna cum!"

with those words, the trembling of your thighs can't be held back anymore, hips grinding against his palm, desperately chasing that teetering orgasm. issei watches, even stops the movement of his fingers just to see you finish this way, all by yourself as you ride his fingers. he only crooks his finger slightly, giving just enough pressure that you finally break like a dam, gushing against his hand.

"fuuuck!" he groans loudly, fucking his fingers into you until there's nothing left, until his hand comes to a slow stop, and he carefully slips them out. issei crawls up towards you, fingertips pressing against your lips and smearing your cum all over. they push past your lips, and like a good little slut you clean them off, bobbing your head up and down and swirling your tongue.

issei couldn't be more pleased with how compliant you were, watching as you lick and suck your own cum from his fingers. he hums with satisfaction, digits popping from your lips with a thin sheen of saliva connecting them. his free hand pushes at the waistband of his sweatpants, getting them down just low enough to tuck beneath his balls. he sits back on the couch, his phalanges that drip with your spit wrapping around the base of his cock and pumping leisurely.

the sensitive skin soon glistens with your spit, cock tall and leaning slightly. the tip is a angry red, precum forming in beads that roll down his slit and the underside of his cock, shaft tan and smooth. you feel your breath hitch as you watch him, as you watch the precum slide past his balls and disappear into his hair. it's like he's moving in slow motion, a large hand coming to pat his lap and signal you to come on over. "you'll be a good girl and sit on my cock, won't you?"

"yes daddy." the response is almost immediate, shocking both you and him. he grins widely, legs spreading father apart as he sinks down lower on the couch. mattsun runs his hand along the back of your leg as you straddle his waist, bracing one arm on the headrest of the couch while using the other to reach behind you and find his cock. your throat constricts as you swallow thickly, the sheer size of his length having not slipped by unnoticed. you rub the tip back and forth along your slit, collecting some of you arousal that leaks from your slightly prepped hole.

once, twice even three times his cockhead swipes past your entrance, before finally it catches and pops inside. your eyes widen, eyelashes fluttering uncontrollably. "nngh— fuck–" you grip at his shoulders, nails lightly biting into his skin from how tightly you hold onto him. issei takes ahold of your hips, tilting his head back slightly in order to look at your face through amused and lidded eyes. he liked it, liked watching you struggle to sink down on his fat cock. he liked the way your eyes have already begun to water, the way you whimper.

he eases himself inside of you slowly, rolling his hips upward and working more and more of his cock through the tight muscles. sweat lines your skin in a thin layer, inner thighs and legs aching from how long you've had to hold yourself in this position. you feel ridiculously full, like ten tons of pressure against your cervix.

when issei's hips finally meet with your skin, he lets out a gasp, being fully enveloped in the warmth of your cunt. tears are streaking down your cheeks, lips trembling as you part them to speak, "s-so full!"

"you can take it." it's a clear statement, not a suggestion or a question. his hips are rearing back down before you can even protest, almost immediately setting a steady pace. your breasts undulate with every thrust, every bounce upon his cock. you're held in place just like that, squealing and thrashing as mattsun throws his pelvis up into you.

it only takes a few thrusts before you cum again, the stretch and pressure just about forcing it to gush against him. he releases your hip to grip you chin, squeezing tightly and then pulling back to sharply slap you across the face. the sting brings heat to the surface of your skin, the shock causing you to choke on the moan that had been trapped in your throat. "didn't fuckin' tell you to cum again."

for a split second, issei considers going easy on you, but the sudden tightening of your pussy around him after he's slapped you changes his mind. he reaches a hand around to the back of your head, grabbing the ends of your hair and tugging so that your head bends back. he grunts, feeling his balls begin to pull up as he nears his release, "should fucking make you clean up the couch shouldn't i? going and making and mess like that without even asking for permission."

you nod your head, agreeing to every statement like a good little slut. your walls clench and convulse around him, and with a particularly sharp tug to your hair you feel that knot in your stomach become dangerously tight yet again. inhaling deeply you claw at his chest, "gonna cum again, please—!"

he's pleased with how quickly you learn, granting your lease with a quick nod of his head. matsukawa releases your hair, hand coming to press tightly against the back of your head in a sloppy kiss. he's scooted up to the edge of the couch, holding out until he feels you coming undone once again. he uses his free hand to push down on your hip with all the force he has, rocking you back and forth over his cock. you're held in place yet again when he cums, groaning hotly into your mouth and grinding until you've milked him for every last drop.

slowly but surely, issei's hips still, fingers loosening on your head and hip and allowing you to slump over onto his shoulder, arms and legs limp. his chest heaves, leaning back with you until his back meets the cushions. he's lost his high, gazing up at his ceiling because fuck he can't believe he's just done this with you. he pushes on your shoulder, leaning you back to get a good view of you, "you alright?"

you nod with a wide smile, glowing in a post orgasmic glow. you lean down and capture his lips in a kiss before pulling away with a hum, "mm, can we smoke again?" and issei can only grin wildly, because he's finally found someone that can match his crazy.

fantasy - mdni

pairings: dilf!nanami x fem!reader 

synopsis: you meet your friend’s dad - not expecting that he turns out to be your favorite porn star 

cw: age gap (reader is 21, nanami is 42), college girl reader, mentions of porn and masturbation, dumbification, daddy kink, unprotected intercourse, oral (giving and receiving), fingering, nipple play, cowgirl, mating press, degradation, teasing, nicknames (doll, princess), name calling (slut, whore), one mention of anal 

word count: 4.7k pure filth (i’m sorry)

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The paperwork in front of you made you frown. You groaned internally. The semester had just started but your professor did not plan to go easy on your class. An important assignment was due, making you put in extra effort. Yue,  a friend you met in this class, was sitting next to you. She was polite and well-mannered, making you feel comfortable around her even though you had only known her for a short amount of time. 

You happily agreed to go to her house since she lived off campus; away from all the stuffy libraries. She told you that her father was a salaryman, often working overtime. He usually came home late which meant you had the house to yourselves to study. 

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