False Pretenses, Hange Zoë

SATORU GOJO might have been strong. He might have been handsome. But, above anything else, he was a whimpering, moaning mess.

Strands of his white hair were stuck to his sweaty forehead. His sharp blue eyes opened and closed repeatedly, as he battled between wanting to keep them open to look at your pretty face, or closing them as pleasure overwhelmed his trembling body.

Those large hands of his gripped your ass as you rode him.

“Shit,” he moaned once again. “Feels so good — so, so good.”

Your hands held onto his muscular shoulders as your pace quickened.

“Baby, please . . .” he begged for nothing in particular.

“You’re so whiny,” you teased. “Didn’t know the strongest sorcerer would be so pathetic for me.”

“I can’t help it,” with a little gulp, he started to buck his hips, meeting your thrusts with his own rhythmic bucks as he chased yet another orgasm. He couldn’t get enough. All he wanted was to fill you up.

“Please make me cum, keep going, don’t stop . . . don’t stop,” words fell out from between his buttery lips like a prayer. “Please keep fucking me baby, feels so good.”

“Are you gonna cum, Satoru?” You questioned with a smirk, looking at his fucked-out face.

“Yes, I’m right there. So close. I’m gonna–”

He interrupted his own words with an uncontrollable moan. As pleasure swirled around in the pit of his stomach, sending a wave of heat throughout his body, his toes curled as he shot his load inside of you.

He could feel it. The sweet, nasty mixture of his cum and yours, running down his cock as he stuffed you.

He just couldn’t stop moaning. Couldn’t stop cumming.

“One more, baby,” the pretty man begged, looking up into your eyes. “One more round . . . please? Make me cum again. I can’t get enough of you. I just . . . I need more.”

And, with that, you started to ride him again, enjoying the sound of him moaning as he said, “I love you, I love you, I love you. I love you so much — I can’t . . . god, I fucking love you.”

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.

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

wc: 2k/15 minute read

cw: Smut, Somnophilia, Pregnancy sex, Slight Praise

part I

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I already know.”

Keep reading

Bakugou and his bitchy girlfriend who can match his fire with ease. The two of you bicker nonstop and honestly most of his friends don't see the appeal in you, you're constantly scowling at everyone while you type away at your phone and you always make him leave their group hangouts early.

But Katsuki could care less, you call the shots during the day all you want because you and him made a deal. You hold the power when you're in public- in private? You're his sweet little stoner who just wants to be fucked and cuddled in that order. He's the only one who gets to see how sweet you are for him after a blunt and a few orgasms, and he's possessive enough that he wants to keep it that way.

deku’s been so fucking sweet to you since the very beginning, and you think when you finally spell it out to him that you like him a lot and you want to be with him it’ll just be you getting to finally kiss and touch and love deku the way you’ve been wanting to for so long.

you soon learn that that’s not the case. at least, not on the surface level. deku’s mostly been the same ol’ sweetheart when it comes to you and your affections, lets you hold the ropes as he’s happy to follow. but i guess allowing him a deeper reign on your relationship and life lets him feel better about allowing himself to be a little strict with you. a little greedy. it rarely happens, well, not so obviously, but its all in the way his hands hold yours, grips low on your waist, whenever his voice drops to a husky octave, deep and chill-inducing. you never thought of your izuku as scary, but now whenever your other classmates joke about how harmless he is, you can’t help but think a bit harder about it. how frighteningly well he masks it. how helpless his love can make you feel.

all it takes is a random catcall and the wrong idea and he’ll let it slip, his sweetness bittering into a stoic calm. no one else can see it, but you can, and it makes your heart stop.

the only antidote is to give him that control, to give up your reigns first before he has to take it from you. its shocking, much less nothing short of humiliating. especially when you’re crying, your knee propped up over his arm as he holds you up against the door, spread open and vulnerable as he takes his time fucking you to tears. its pitiful, really, you still don’t understand what you did wrong. and izuku can’t help but feel a little bad, because it isn’t your fault, not truly.

but it doesn’t hurt to stage a reminder that he’s the only one allowed to keep you this full, fuck you this good. you’re the only one who knows him so well, what he’s kept hidden for so long. and so does he for you. as he reaches deeper and deeper and deeper inside, so deep he swears he can feel your heart, every thought, every fear, and every desire. he knows it all.

Cut to the Chase

PAIRING: timeskip!Suna Rintarou x fem!reader

GENRE: smut (18+)

Minors DNI

TAGS + WARNINGS: fingering, nipple play, light manhandling, masturbation (f), hair-pulling, cum eating, biting, use of bunny once, mating press

Let me know if I missed anything.

WORD COUNT: 3.1k

SUMMARY: You really like Suna’s new haircut. All characters are 18+

© creative-crybaby, do not repost or modify

“Are you going to let me in?”

You and Suna stare at each other as he waits at your door. Or rather, his expression appears bored while his eyes show a mix of impatience and confusion as your gaze holds awe.

“All right,” the middle blocker huffs before carefully squeezing past you, “I’ll just…”

Keep reading

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

LOVE ME A LITTLE MORE (4K)

— todoroki shoto x f!reader

SYNOPSIS: he don’t even scroll through insta ‘less he going through my pictures or while you’re stressed wondering why your boyfriend hasn’t commented on your new photo, he’s too busy jacking off to it.

WARNINGS: 18+, minors dni, masturbates over your photos, phone/facetime sex, you touch yourself too, established relationship, both switches, sorta a comfort fic/crybaby yn lol, youve got a nice ass, you both miss each other a lot, he spits on his dick

NOTES: omg look a todoroki fic!! not bakugou it’s todoroki!!! MY FIRST ONE!!! hope you all like it and his character isn’t off? tell me what you think when you’re finished :) also thank you aj tracey for the title

todoroki shoto hasn’t seen you in one month, two weeks, thirteen hours and forty-three seconds. he knows this because every time he looks at a clock, looks at his lockscreen, sees the sunrise for a new day and the sunset for the end of the day, he thinks of you. he tries to predict what you’d be doing at this exact time, whether you’re studying or at work, sleeping or just waking up. he even catches himself doing a social media sweep to see if you’ve posted anything.

sometimes he gets lost in it. in the corner of his hotel room in the armchair, staring lovingly at a new selfie you’ve posted on your instagram story. he stares for way too long, a stare that can only be excused with how much he loves and misses you, all bundled up into one. he then screenshots it to store permanently and after all that, he forgets to actually message you about the picture. 

what he doesn’t realise is that you on the other side of the country, are equally missing your bi-haired lover and are overthinking everything. okay, so maybe you posted a selfie for everyone to see just for the eyes of your boyfriend. yes, you could have just texted it to him but maybe you wanted him to miss you as much as you missed him, to know that people are still seeing you in the flesh while he isn’t.

you kinda hate the burn you feel in your stomach when you’ve seen that shoto with a verified blue tick hasn’t said anything to about your picture. not a like on your story, not an emoji, not even a message. he just viewed it. what the fuck?

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FIRE AND ICE ⛧ 1.35k words.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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fandom creators always make choso look “blank” or “stoic” when he probably has the biggest range of expressions out of anybody in jjk