tw: accidental edging (I guess?), mentioned ovulation, cunnilingus, allusions to squirting, basically shouta helps us unwind
~
You feel insane. Unhinged. Nauseous with desperation and ashamed of the tears that sting your eyes.
You should not be this upset—this angry and hopeless. It’s just an orgasm for fuck’s sake.
But god, you want it. You need it. You need the outlet, the release, the calm and clarity that follows. You need to get rid of the throb between your legs. It’s been driving you mad for the last two days, forcing you to hold a vibrator to your clit over and over again. Multiple times a day. Some orgasms are much easier to reach, but others are more like drawn out chases.
In this case, it’s not happening at all. You’ve gotten close a couple times, but as soon as you think you’ve found just the right angle, just the right amount of pressure, the sensation lessens, climax dancing away from you like a dirty little minx.
Fuck. Fuck.
You’ve been at it for an hour. You’d tried watching some of your favorite videos then, when that didn’t work, switched to reading erotica. Using your imagination was a last ditch effort, concocting your favorite fantasies.
You thought you had it that time, that familiar pulse in your pussy growing, fresh slick dripping from your hole, and then…
Your vibrator died.
It took a monumental effort to not throw it against the wall.
Fine. Fucking fine. You’ll just use your fingers. Back to basics, right?
The sun is starting to set, sky darkening behind the curtains in your bedroom. The blankets are in a heap on the floor, kicked away in frustration.
It’s just you in the middle of the bed, legs splayed, fingers working over your clit, somehow both overstimulated and desensitized at the same time.
It’s no use, though, and you let out an honest to god sob when you feel the previously swollen bud begin to shrink and soften under the pads of your fingers.
At this point your best option is a cold shower, but the thought alone makes you shiver as you glare at the ceiling. It probably wouldn’t even solve your problem, just hold it at bay until your body is able to warm back up.
“Stupid, so stupid, fuck—”
“Love?”
Shouta’s head suddenly appears in the doorway, home from work and looking pleasantly surprised by the sight of you. That is, until you hiccup out another sob, immediately throwing an arm over your face.
“Woah, hey, hey, what’s wrong?”
A few quick steps and then the bed dips and you feel him hovering over you. Even with your eyes covered you can see his concerned expression, all furrowed brow and parted lips—God, he’s so handsome and good and warm, and one of his knees is between your thighs, not touching but still close enough that you can feel the heat radiating from it.
It’s too much, and you’re too pent up, and Shouta actually startles when you suddenly shout, “I can’t fucking cum!”
Ever vigilant, his first thought is, “did you get hit with a Quirk?” Ready to track down a villain and beat them to a pulp. If only it was that easy.
“Nooo, I’m ovulating,” you whine, take an uneven breath before adding, “‘m so god damn horny I can’t think straight, and nothing is working, and my vibrator fucking died and my fingers aren’t enough and I’m about to swan dive off the roof!”
Another deep breath and then you lower your arm, immediately regretting it when you see the way Shouta is staring at you—eyebrows raised, lips just barely curled into an amused smile. It’s as infuriating as it is attractive, and you’re tempted to shove him off the bed.
“Stop looking at me like that,” you grit.
He doesn’t, just leans a little closer and coos, “my poor baby,” which makes everything so much worse, the heat in your gut flaring dangerously.
“Shouta, I swear to fuck—”
You don’t know what you’re about to threaten him with, but it doesn’t matter, not when he trails a hand between your legs to cup your mound.
You sigh—or maybe sing?—under the touch, whole body jerking when he starts stroking over your folds, hypersensitive from blood flow.
“Look at you,” he rumbles, clicking his tongue before he sits back on his heels. He runs his fingertips over your lips a few more times, thumbs soothing heated skin before spreading you open.
Shouta inhales sharply as if taken off guard, then his voice drops so, so low, rattling your bones.
“Fuck, you’re so…” Gently, like he’s afraid you’ll break, he ghosts over your clit. It punches a gasp straight from your lungs, eyes going wide as more tears form. “You look raw.” Shouta’s gaze flicks to your face, heated words curling from his mouth like smoke, “desperate little thing.”
All you can really do is nod in agreement, pitiful when you beg, “please, Sho… need your help.”
“I know, sweetheart. It’s okay, just relax.”
He moves slowly, but it isn’t due to apathy. It’s calm, reassuring, confident that he’s going to take care of you. After situating a pillow under your hips, Shouta lays between your legs and spreads you open again.
His tongue feels like Heaven—warm, wet, and soft. There’s no urgency, just slow, soothing strokes. He laves over your clit rather than flicking or sucking, lets saliva drip from his lips to help lubricate. His facial hair drags against your thighs, but he stays mindful, doing what he can to avoid rubbing against your sensitive skin.
It’s perfect, drawing a long moan out of you. Tears stream from the corners of your eyes, leaving sticky trails, but you don’t care. You don’t care about anything except for Shouta’s mouth.
He hums when your clit starts to swell under his tongue, and the subtle vibration makes you keen.
“Good, so good, so good thank you thankyouthankyou—”
He squeezes your thigh, an acknowledgement, a reminder, I’m right here, I’ve got you, I’ll take care of you.
And he does. Thoroughly. Tenderly. You melt into the sheets, body turning to a liquid state
Shouta drinks everything you give him. Then he slides two fingers into your heat, angles them just right, and ends up swallowing even more.
every time someone genuinely mischaracterizes toji an angel gets their brains blown out
mdni :p
choso thanking u when he cums in ur pussy….. he’s all whiny and flushed, unshed tears stinging his eyes as he thrusts into you. he’s gripping at whatever part of your body he could get to, your tits, your tummy, your thighs — his brain can’t decide what to do with his hands even while he’s in the throes of pleasure. it was cute, you would’ve teased him about it if you weren’t in the same state as him.
“fuck, i’m gonna-” his breath hitches and cuts him off, though you knew what he meant. you could feel him about to pull out and let out a whine of protest, wrapping your legs around his waist so he stopped moving. he looked at you with a confused expression, looking almost akin to a puppy with the way he cocked his head to the side slightly.
his eyes widened when you begged him to cum inside of you in that pretty voice of yours. how could he ever refuse you?
suddenly your knees are being pressed to your chest and his thrusts become more erratic, desperately chasing his high so he can do what you asked. he’s babbling almost incoherently, completely pussydrunk. “fuck- thank you, baby, thank you so much… gonna fill you up so good, i promise.”
he hides his face in your neck when he cums, whispering thank you’s into your skin like a mantra. he stays like that for a second, his weight a pleasant warmth as he slumps against you while recovering from his high.
“can i… can i do that again? please?” his voice is so soft. tentative, as if he was afraid of you rejecting him. you only nod in response, still catching your breath from the last round.
how could you ever say no when he was so polite?
i’m getting my nips pierced tmmrw. i am so scared. so nervy.
i’m 6’5 btw
guys do i give tall or short energy……… pls be careful w ur answers im sensitive……
That girl with the fat tummy and loud laugh will save you
brows done, lashes done, hair freshly washed nd styled, two online orders on the way, and planning my next nail set.
srry for the lack of posting today i’m living inside of the song die your daughter by susannah joffe rn
mmmmmfffff smth smth smth perv geto smth smth smth………
·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻
roommate!geto who you are weary to move in with at first, but as soon as you meet him you feel perfectly comfortable- like you’ve known each other for decades~
roommate!geto who insists on calling you “baby” and “doll” all the time
roommate!geto who you cuddle up with in your shared living room every thursday night to watch movies~
he’s already sitting on the couch with open arms when you come out to the shared space, “what’re we watching today baby?”
roommate!geto who has to excuse himself for a minute (or two) when he sees you walk out of you room in sleep shorts that expose the curve of your ass and a tank top with no bra.
roommate!geto who gets hard whenever a sex scene comes on, he knows you can feel his length pressing against your back, but the fact he knows you can feel it turns him on more~
roommate!geto who always sneaks touches. <3
nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck while you “platonically” cuddle during the movie. taking in the scent of your freshly lotioned skin~
grabbing your waist to guide you when you’re at parties, shielding you from any boys that might be around,
pressing his hips against yours whenever he stands behind you,
tucking loose strands of your hair behind your ear mid conversation.
roommate!geto who drives you everywhere- he doesn’t mind because he loves spending time with you <3
roommate!geto who you give little fashion shows before you go out clubbing with your friends. “you look beautiful doll”
roommate!geto who despite loving your outfit can’t stop thinking about how some guy might hit on you at the club
roommate!geto who cannot shut up about you to satoru~
roommate!geto who starts taking up skirt pictures of you to show satoru what has him going crazy-
·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻
a/n: ok i finally got the courage to get this out of my drafts. pls lmk if it’s actual shit 😭
also i didn’t proofread or anything so there might be mistakes- sorry again!
older bf! aizawa fixing all of my daddy issues. yeeeea. yeeeeeeeeeea.
i don’t even mean sexually!! like imagine opening up to him for the first time. you’ve been dating for a while and he knew some of your familial relationships were… strained to say the least, but he didn’t know the extent of it. you’re recalling some of your experiences — maybe a specific event, maybe just an overview — and he’s humming and nodding while listening to your words, his brows knitting together in a pitying expression. you think he’s pitying you anyway, you’re kind of avoiding his eyes as you speak.
your voice starts shaking after a moment and you’re internally cursing yourself for tearing up because why are you still so affected by the actions of your father? you pause for a second, swallowing against the lump in your throat and it’s so humiliating to fall apart in front of your boyfriend like this and—
and shota places a hand over yours. his hand is rough and calloused from hero work but so warm. he’s gazing wistfully at where your skin meets, his thumb so gently grazing over your knuckles before giving your hand a small squeeze. “i’m so sorry that happened to you, baby. you didn’t deserve that.” oh and his words are just barely there, but they ring louder than what anyone has ever told you in response to your past.
your eyes meet his after he speaks. you want to snap back out of some deep seated need to defend yourself (to make yourself seem less vulnerable, less pathetic, perhaps). of course you didn’t deserve what happened to you, that’s a dumb thing to point out. that’s what you’re about to say when your lips part, but only a small, shuddering breath leaves you.
you don’t even notice the tears rolling down your cheeks until shota brings up a warm hand to wipe them away, his body leaning closer to yours to press his lips against your forehead. you want to curse at him, to push him away and storm off for even daring to see you in this state… but you don’t.
instead you wrap your arms around his middle and hide your face in his neck (shame, maybe?) and cry. you’re not sobbing, but you can’t help the hiccuped breaths that leave you when his hand slips under the hem of your shirt to run his warm palm up and down your back. he doesn’t say anything after that.