Latest Posts by whorefornoodles - Page 7
"You don't have to walk me home."
"It's nothing." Iruka rubs the back of his neck when he lies, flat palm against his skin as he smiles sheepishly. "It's not out of my way."
It is. He lives on the complete other side of the village, down by the schoolhouse. There's no real reason for him to meandering down here by the main gates, so close to you that the back of his hand brushes against yours intermittently.
It's rare that Iruka even comes out with the groups for dinner, let alone a couple of drinks. His cheeks are tickled pink from the alcohol, the smooth skin of his scar silvery white against it. Whenever you glance his way, it crinkles in the middle as he smiles.
"Really," he insists, "It's my pleasure. Besides, it's what boyfriends do."
Boyfriend. The term sounds so childish, but it makes your chest tense with excitement. Your relationship is still shiny and new, glimmering with a future of unknowns, polished with unfettered affection. Tonight was the first time you introduced him with that word 'boyfriend' and tonight was the first time his hand found yours under the table, out of view from the rest of the world.
The street lights barely illuminate the road, puddling weakly in their own respective spots and pulling weak shadows across the front of your apartment building.
"You should come in for a coffee," you say as you turn on your heel, stopping both of you short, "As a thank you."
"I don't drink coffee, but..." Iruka looks away for a moment, rather sheepish despite no one being around to witness, "I'd still like to come in, if I could."
Your face splits into a smile as you bounce on the pads of your feet, purely excited at the insinuation. Dating has its own set of rules, most of which are outdated, but appease the elders and their watchful eyes. Dates are usually done in groups, public displays of affection are kept to a minimum, and, most importantly, men aren't to come into a lady's home this late at night without pretense.
Like coffee.
You step forward into the dim, halfway there light of the lamp, and place your hand on his arm. He follows suit, but more daring, his hand finding the dip of your waist.
Appearance is important to him. Teachers are judged to a different standard than everyone else. These little rebellions only exist when there's no one else to hear them.
"I could make some food?" you offer, thing soft lilt to your voice more playful than anything. Iruka leans in, bonking his forehead against yours, and says:
"I don't want that either."
His hand scoops around the base of your neck, pulling you up and guiding your lips to the press of his own. There's an edge of innocence in the chasteness, physically buzzing with anticipation of more as he hums into you. Every breath between you is used to get closer; each exhale your chest deflates and he crushes you closer, that hand on your hip now snugly behind you, curling your back into him.
Each inhale he takes advantage of, tongue sneaking past your lips and lewdly pressing into yours. The lewdness of it all -the wet, spitty, desperate way he engulfs you deeper at every chance, the way his hand has drifted to squeeze the fat of your ass- surprises you so much that it's all you can do it keep up, holding on by his shoulders. The heat of his breath mingling with yours makes your whole body searing hot.
As if he knows, Iruka starts working his knee in between yours, thigh firm against your pussy and giving you some of the friction you desperately need. When you buckle into the contact, he moans like a wanton whore, open mouthed and deep, eyebrows crumpled together in rapture-
A low wolf whistle echoes down the street.
"Aw, get it, sensei-!" By the time you both scramble apart, the gaggle of youths (much too old to be his current students) is nothing but shadows running in the distance, guffawing as they go.
"You- hey-" Iruka's face is scarlet with embarrassment as he staggers over his words, both trying to yell and stay quiet enough not to wake your neighbors, "Go home, boys."
"They can't hear you, Umino." You pat his arm and a half-hearted laugh. You'd care more if you were younger, but age gave you thicker skin.
Your boyfriend apparently doesn't feel the same.
"Aw geez," he laments. Somehow, the kiss has mussed his hair, pulling a couple long strings in front of his face. "How embarrassing, people are gonna talk-"
"They were going to talk anyway-- people love gossip," you laugh, tugging at his sleeve, "Come inside and let's give them something to talk about."
His jaw flexes as he comes around to the idea, physically swallowing the shame of being caught.
"What happened to the food you were offering?" he teases, voice low and rolling. You turn away, walking towards the stairs to your building.
"Don't worry," you hum, "I'll give you something to put your mouth on."
Oh no I'm thinking of giving cowboy Kirishima all the babies he wants so we have "little helpers" on our ranch
isagi + rin both get bricked up when you put like a lollipop or candy you were sucking on into their mouth. especially if you tell them to open up and then close their jaw all soft
u kiss isagi in the parking lot and now yall have to stay in the car for 20 mins till his dick goes down
different types of kisses w hq men !
good night kisses - kita, akaashi, atsumu, TSUKI, sakusa, hinata, bokuto, oikawa, suga & osamu
kisses in which, you've already said goodbye but he can't help stealing another one. - OIKAWA, kuroo, atsumu, matsun, SUNA, hanamaki, daichi & kunimi
kitchen counter make-outs - ATSUMU !!, kuroo, suna, oikawa, IWAIZUMI, sakusa, meian, ushijima & aran
soft kisses while cuddling in bed - kenma, tsukishima, osamu, atsumu, sakusa, tendou, bokuto & kageyama
i missed you kisses - oikawa, suna, atsumu, kenma, sakusa, ushijima, kageyama, MATSUN, hinata & sugawara
a kiss on the cheek that turns into a kiss on the lips - KUROOO, akaashi, iwa, ushijima, yamaguchi, osamu & komori
one small kiss, pulling away for an instant, then devouring each other. - suna, ATSUMU, sakusa, KAGEYAMA, tsukishima, kuroo, IWAIZUMI !!!, meian, romero, daichi & matsun
top of head kisses - SAKUSA, tsuki, kuroo, ushijima, meian, AKAASHI, sugawara, daichi, semi & iwa
some fun sex tropes:
laughing during sex
and/or things going wrong during sex that leads to laughter
sex on a countertop/tabletop/sink because we couldn’t wait to get somewhere with cushions
kissing to stay quiet
biting to stay quiet
one person meticulously doing something entirely for the other’s benefit without expectation or need of reciprocation
“wow i did not know that was A Thing for me until right now and i’m totally fine with that but for the love of god keep doing it”
someone straddling the other while they’re “trying to read” and slowly getting them to put the book away
“you’re only allowed to sit there and watch until i tell you otherwise”
kissing anywhere but the lips
alternatively, touching anywhere but where the person desperately wants to be touched
“we couldn’t find a condom so we’re getting each other off in other ways” sex
anything involving the secretive brushing of fingertips against inner thighs in public spaces
sex with clothes half on/panties still on
the pleasant misuse of ties
sleepy morning kisses that accidentally turn intense
iwaizumi’s driving both of you home—
and there was a part of you that thought, just maybe, tonight would be the night that he would propose. and maybe it was all just silly, to let the thought twirl around in your little head until it fell on the floor in front of you.
maybe you would say it shattered—all over your heels and the dress you know he likes and the floor of his buick.
and maybe, because every single one of your thoughts seems to start with that right now, maybe this is all just a little bit your fault. there were so many of those nights, curled into the sheets of your bed, the taste of liquor still resting on both of your tongues, that you’d asked him if he’d ever marry you.
and back then, he said yes. he’d laugh, an arm resting above his head, the other holding your lower back—his fingers would dip beneath your clothes and leave little searing paths of what you could only call home, but it was all to hold you close. his hand kept you steady atop of him, legs twined together, your chin resting on his chest.
but you could feel the laughter bloom in his chest and tumble past his lips, an absolutely sure to follow his tongue.
but then a few weeks would pass, five years of dating, both of you just past the age of 23 now, and you’d ask again. and maybe it had started the same, the same laughter, the same reply, the same graze of fingertips against flesh. and maybe the reply had never really changed, beyond a question of didn’t you ask this last week? or why wouldn’t i want to marry you?
but maybe that did it. maybe it finally got him thinking about all the reasons he shouldn’t marry you, and those started pile up until suddenly the cost-benefit analysis of it all didn’t really seem to stack in your favor.
because tonight, when you’re both now settled in 24, you thought would be the night. and if it wasn’t tonight—well, you don’t think it’s going to happen at all. and, of course, you’re driving home. so part of you is starting to accept this as your last drive home with iwaizumi. no matter how much it hurts.
he’s been playing a bit of beach rock on the radio, those old little tunes that you’d picked up through your college years, but it’s quiet and hardly does anything to mask the silence of the car. he’s not tapping his thumb against the steering wheel—he’s hardly spoken for most of the night, and back at the restaurant and on your walk around the pier, you’d put that all down as him being nervous.
who knows what the hell to think of it now.
you take a breath and smooth out the material of your dress as you roll to a stop at a light. it’s the one that iwaizumi hates—a gross intersection with too long of a red, and no one really ever seems to understand the design of it all, so he’s always been one to avoid this light when he can—but he’s here now, and you watch him stretch his hands on the wheel and tap his fingers against it in one little rhythmic motion. it’s not to the song, and you know it’s the motion he does when he’s about to say something.
and you, desperately, want it all to stop. because you know the next words out of his mouth are going to be somewhere along the lines of maybe we shouldn’t do this anymore or i’ve been thinking about this for a while, or maybe it’ll just be your name. but you know it’s nothing good and if you let him speak, then it ruins it all. if you let iwaizumi say your name you’re sure that your soul will escape with every last breath you give to him.
if you let him say your name, you’re sure that with it, he’ll take every last memory you could muster—the air from your lungs, every whisper he’s ever laid across your skin, every murmur of affection that you savored behind those closed doors.
if you let him say your name, it’ll all be gone, and you want to stay in his stupid buick for a moment longer as his girlfriend, even if it means prolonging the inevitable.
so you scan the cars around you, you look at the crosswalk until you see someone—a middle-aged man, a neon green cap on his head and orange sneakers hitting the pavement. iwaizumi takes a breath to say something, and you know he’s always hated being interrupted but god you don’t think you can stand not doing it now.
“man, what’s that guy wearing?” you say. it sounds less half-hearted than it feels. there’s a lilt to your voice and, if you couldn’t feel the weight in your chest, you’re sure it would sound like you’re clueless. you point to the man at the crosswalk, and iwaizumi’s gaze flicks there for only a moment before settling back on you.
“babe-”
“no, really, who would’ve guessed that neon was making such a comeback,” you interrupt again, and you hate it. it sounds unnatural, like there’s a joke somewhere in there that you just can’t find yet—and you both know you won’t ever get the chance to say it.
iwaizumi tries again.
“i’ve been thinking-”
“well i guess we can really see him in the dark-”
and iwaizumi says your name.
you’ve always hated the way time catches up to you.
you stop criticizing the poor man on the crosswalk, and then look over at iwaizumi—hajime as you’ve called him for years now, as you’ve said under the quake of your breath and between lilts of ardor.
you hum in reply to him, let the embarrassment of it all melt beneath his gaze, hope that maybe this break-up won’t be as bad as you always thought it would be. that he won’t be the one that got away for the rest of your life, that you won’t say his name in moonlight, starlight, and sunlight, hoping some divine power will hear it all and bring him back to you. more deeply, you hope you won’t have to move on without him—that the life you’ve built with him, from your home, to your friends, to your damn wardrobe won’t all burn to ash.
he takes a breath, he says your name again.
“hajime, what’s wro-”
“dammit, i’m trying to ask you to marry me.”
the red of the stoplight is reflecting on his face, the car smells a little like his cologne, and iwaizumi is looking at you—hands still tapping against the wheel.
“what?”
you watch the tips of his ears turn red as they start to blend in with the light. he turns back to the road, swallows and lets his tongue poke at his cheeks as he breathes again.
“sorry, that was-” he sighs, “not how i wanted to do that.”
you want to laugh at him a little bit, to let it all shake out of you in a quick moment of relief, but there’s a stutter in your chest that you can’t quite let go. it holds you close and churns your heart and your lungs until you can’t be sure what part of you is burning the most.
so you choose to whisper.
“how did you want to do it?”
and then iwaizumi laughs.
“preferably, a year ago.” you eye him. “i didn’t want you to think i was doing it just because you kept asking.”
you look forward to the light, you beg it not to turn green with everything you have—you hope with all that it’s worth that iwaizumi can hate this intersection for just a little longer.
“and what about tonight?”
he sighs again, in his old man way that you’ve always teased him for, and then he leans back—one hand on the wheel, the other finding its way to your thigh.
“at first, when you were getting ready. and then on the way to the restaurant, and again when you picked that one piece of broccoli off my plate, and then at the end of the pier, when you pulled me to the railing.” he laughs a little bit, and then his thumb rubs into your skin. “i didn’t know what to say, i just knew i wanted to ask you to marry me.”
the light turns green, and without ever really thinking about it, you say no.
it’s not to him, it’s to the light and the situation of all things, but as he starts to drive you watch the blood drain from his face.
“what?” he asks, and you want to crawl into something much worse than just a hole in the ground.
“no, not like- sorry it was the light- yes, yes i want to marry you.”
“the damn stoplight made you say no to my proposal?” he asks, and though there’s that bit of scolding in his tone, you can feel the laughter rising in his voice as he speaks.
“no it wasn’t like that! you dick, i-”
“yeah, yeah, whatever, i’ll just return the ring then-”
“the ring?”
you both pause, and iwaizumi keeps driving, but he takes his hand off of you and, a little awkwardly, you might add, reaches into the pocket of his slacks—desperately trying to stay the speed limit (or, a little over), the whole time.
but he pulls out a little black box and gestures towards you, and then flips it open with his thumb.
“i wasn’t kidding,” he starts, and then glances over at you. “marry me.”
and maybe you were right before. with just your name, iwaizumi could pull your soul and everything it carries with it out of your body. and maybe, in all that he is, you give it to him if only he were to ask—memories, whispers, murmurs, you’d give it all with only the raise of his brow.
“yes,” you reply. “of course.”
iwaizumi smiles, and at the next red light (one he hates just a little less, where the wait’s a little shorter and the intersection just a little less confusing), he puts the ring on your finger. and at that red light, he kisses you until you have to tell him it’s green.
♡‧₊˚ ꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : MDNI. mentions of sex but nothing too explicit. barou being emotionally unavailable until he isn’t >_<
exboyfriend!barou who doesn’t let you move on, won’t let you forget about him as he texts you every night at 2am asking if you’re up.
exboyfriend!barou who knows you’ll always come back to him. laying under him so perfectly as he plunges into you, telling you how much you need him and ignoring the fact that it’s actually the other way around.
exboyfriend!barou who says he doesn’t care that you’re starting to date other people again because he knows you’ll always come right back to him. or at least, that’s what his ego is feeding him.
exboyfriend!barou who doesn’t know what to do when you stop answering his texts and start posting pictures with your new boyfriend. the sweet, heavenly smile you used to give him was now being given to someone he thought as undeserving.
exboyfriend!barou who is too prideful to ask for you back, so he tries to move on too by going to the club on the weekends. even though he spends most of his time there lurking on your social media, hoping that you’ll end up at the same club as him. even so, he’ll reluctantly find someone else to warm your spot, not even realizing that every girl he takes home has some resemblance to you.
exboyfriend!barou who starts to feel emptier and emptier after hooking up with the other girls. his heart craves more, it craves you. in the morning he finds himself scrolling through your old pictures together and the twinge of pain in his heart grows into something bigger — something larger than his pride.
exboyfriend!barou who finds himself in front of your door to your apartment, absolutely drenched from the thunderous rain that was coming down. but he doesn’t care, he couldn’t play this game anymore, the storm in his heart far more dangerous than the one outside.
exboyfriend!barou who is shocked to see you answer the door full of tears as you explain your boyfriend dumped you recently. as much as he loved to see you cry, he never wanted you to be in actual pain. he finds his heart swelling when you bring him a towel to dry off and invite him in for hot tea.
exboyfriend!barou who listens to your every word as you tell him what happened, hanging onto them like if he didn’t you’d disappear again. he reached over to softly wipe your tears away, feeling like an absolute hypocrite as he told you that your newest ex was a piece of shit. a flicker of anger igniting in him at the guy that hurt your heart, only to quickly extinguish when he realized he was probably no better in your eyes.
exboyfriend!barou who explains how much of a mistake he made by letting you go, finally opening up his heart to you in the way you always craved. even if you didn’t accept him back into his arms, he was surprisingly okay with it, but he just needed you to know he would fight for you anyway.
exboyfriend!barou who suddenly feels himself choking back tears as the last of his pride melts away as you wrap your arms around him, comforting him in a way only you could. even though he knows he has a long way to go to earn your forgiveness, he plans on getting you back no matter how long it takes.
exboyfriend!barou who takes his time with you that night instead of his usual rough, animalistic nature. he treats you tenderly, kissing away any tears you shed as he tries to gently mend your heart after he had been so careless with it.
exboyfriend!barou who makes love to you for the first time, whispering proclamations of his adoration for you as he brings you over the edge over and over again. the usual degrading turning into breaths of praise that fill your heart with hope.
exboyfriend!barou who holds you close when you two finish as if his embrace will piece together your hearts once again. his large arms wrapped around you as he can’t stop placing kisses over every inch of your skin.
exboyfriend!barou who vows he will never take you for granted again. who showers you with all the love he held back from you before, adamant on never letting you feel unloved. and he’ll do it every day for the rest of your life, if you’ll let him.
what it’s like kissing nagi, reo and barou !
kissing nagi always starts off a little lazy, slowly pressing his lips against yours. he always takes his time with it — exploring your mouth, learning your reactions, relishing in the small noises you let out. he kisses like time means nothing to him, not when he’s got you in his arms. each languid movement from his lips feels like ocean waves lapping against your skin. the kind that tries to lull you into deeper waters. he mumbles your name against your lips and like a sirens call, you follow it. leaving you securely wrapped up in his arms as he continues to dive into you for as long as he wants.
reo on the other hand, kisses you like the world is on fire. and yet that doesn’t stop him from taking all the air out of your lungs. consistently leaving you both breathless, the passion driving the two of you in a downward spiral. one that has you chasing his lips everytime he pulls away to catch his breath, wasting no time in putting his mouth back on yours. because the choice between breathing and kissing you was never difficult, and he’d choose you over everything and anything in this burning world.
but then there’s kissing barou. who never does anything without purpose. he’ll leave with you swollen lips every time — nipping at them to draw you closer to him. each of his movements are filled with so much confidence, so much precision. for extra support, he’s not afraid to grab onto you and pull you close — grounding you so the center of your world is him, just as he intends. the deep rumbles emitting from his chest feels like an earthquake threatening to swallow you whole and yet all you can do is hold on just a little tighter.
“make sure ya get the back of my neck.”
“sure.”
“get the sides, too.”
“okay.”
“and make sure ya don’t miss a single spot!”
this time, you don’t have as much patience. you grip a handful of osamu’s wet hair, ignoring the exaggerated exclamations of pain as you do.
“i. said. oh.. kay!!” each word is accompanied with a jerk of his head. osamu’s reaching for your forearms now, smacking them as if he’s tapping out of a boxing match.
he glares at you, pout on. you grin back. you win.
and as if to make it a point, you begin to massage his scalp with a gentle scrape of your fingernails. swirling his hair, making sure you get into the follicles, and forcing a subtle pressure onto the base of his skull, you press a kiss right at the edge of his brow as a gift for finally behaving.
osamu hums at that. he closes his eyes to relax and as the moments pass, he slowly liquifies beneath you. the bend of his back curves into your belly as he breathes deep, unperturbed by the scent of ammonia.
“feels nice.”
“is that right, old man?”
osamu’s back to glaring. a giggled kiss back to his brow does nothing to abate it.
“too soon?”
he answers by pinching your thigh. you smack a gloved hand across his shoulder and he only snickers loudly, leaning all his weight onto you that you almost topple over. just as quickly as it left, silence settles into the bathroom once again.
“too old,” osamu eventually says. his confession is quiet, one that opens a space for thought, a little reprieve to reminisce. the fluorescent bulbs in your bathroom suddenly dull into a warm glow.
he says old as if it were a bad thing. like cracks on a sidewalk or black cats. old as if it were something to avoid.
it’s how this all started anyways. after a long day at onigiri miya, osamu’s feet found their way back home to you. he smells of sweat and sweet vinegar and hard work and yours. routine makes his way to you, slide his hands across your ribs and pecks you twice along the lips. then he goes to the bathroom, turns the shower on, and sheds his clothes beginning with his cap.
osamu was fiddling with his belt buckle with one hand and shuffling his hair with the other when he found it.
a gray hair. gray. and not the artificial kind.
one hour, one impromptu trip to the konbini, and one plucked gray hair burned spitefully at the stove, you're back in the bathroom again.
he wants to dye his hair gray. the artificial kind. the color he had back in high school, to a younger version of the one in front of you. and as much as you liked inarizaki osamu, any version of osamu actually, you especially like this one here.
"i think you're pretty sexy in gray." you mention without looking at him. osamu's trying to find meaning, the true meaning to the words you say. he watches your reflection as you busy yourself by discarding your used gloves.
old means growth. his hair will fade just like the original onigiri miya shirt that stretches across his wide chest but your love for him never will. time loves him just as much as you, kisses lines at the corners of his eyes, strokes rough edges along his palms, and you are gifted with a front seat to it.
"ya think tsumu's got gray hairs?" he finally asks.
"i'll do you one better," you smile wryly and lower yourself to whisper in his ear. "i think his hair is thinning."
ok but lazy makeouts with suna?? you and rin are sitting together and so close that suddenly you're kissing and rin doesn't even remember who started it because all he can think about is how pretty your sighs are and how sweet you tastes.. and then he's pulling you up onto his lap and running his hands down the curve of your back and your fingers are in his hair and your body is pressed up against him and all he want to do is stay there forever, kissing and worshipping you that makes your head spin.
take it easy baby, make it last all night - iwaizumi hajime/f!reader (1.5k) tags: cali!iwa, college!iwa, tit worship, dry humping, mentioned cumming in pants, no actual sex (sorry fellas), bi iwa is canon and if you disagree you're a coward xo!
MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT - 18+
iwaizumi's biggest culture shock when he moves from japan to california for school isn't the different language, the heat, or even the party culture at UCI.
it's the SKIN.
hajime has never stopped to consider the conservative conventions of his home country at any great length, since it's all he's ever known. but suddenly he's in sunny SoCal, and everywhere he looks he's met with glimpses of exposed skin—of parts of strangers' bodies he never thought he'd see.
it flusters him at first; never quite sure where to look when he's speaking to a girl in a low-cut crop top, or a guy he meets out on a jog who'd forgone a shirt. but he acclimatizes to it eventually. comes to appreciate it in many ways, too.
take the humble tube top, for instance.
sure he likes bikinis, and mini skirts, and those skimpy skin-tight dresses girls wear on nights out. he likes those tiny running shorts that ride up on the track teams thighs when they go out for runs on campus near the athletics building, muscle tees cut low under the arms that the guys at the gym wear, or those grey-sweatpants whose infamy hajime has come to understand.
but there's something about tube tops that he just adores.
or, at least, something about you wearing one.
he's been watching you quietly for most of the night, flitting around the party like you normally do, nursing your drink in small sips to make it last. your tube top clings snugly to your chest, and fuck he's pretty sure you're not even wearing a bra underneath it. he watches the way your body moves, the way the top moves with it. the way your tits lift and settle again, pretty and soft, each time you subtly adjust the top with a little tug.
you gravitate towards him in intervals throughout the night, like a moth to a flame.
that's another thing hajime's come to like about america: no one bats an eye at PDA.
you sit comfortably in his lap on the sofa at the house party, playing with his fingers where his hand rests on your thigh. your body is warm. his body is warm. the party's crowded, the little house off campus jammed with students and driving the temperature up, but still he keeps you exactly where you are with his arm looped around your waist.
"hey," you say, peeking back at him over your shoulder after a while of idly tracing your fingertips along his knuckles. "you having fun?"
he is, but probably not for the reasons you think. he couldn't care less about the merriment around him: the happiest he's been all night are the moments where you've drifted back within arm's reach. he nods anyway.
you pout a little, and it surprises him.
"you wanna get outta here?" he asks curiously, picking up on your unvoiced disappointment. your eyes watch his lips as they shape the question, and then flicker back up to his.
"yeah."
the first year hajime spent in california, he lived in a tiny UCI dorm. the second, he moved into a small apartment off campus with some friends he'd met at school. the apartment isn't luxurious by any stretch of the imagination. it's austere; spartanly decorated; and with four college-age boys living in it, it isn't always the tidiest place. but one thing he appreciates about his living arrangement is that on a friday night, the place is usually empty.
not to mention it has a double bed.
hajime has you sprawled across it almost as soon as the two of you stumble through his bedroom door. you laugh a little at his eagerness as you tip back onto the mattress, bouncing lightly atop the padded springs, and then he's crawling in overtop of you, pressing his mouth against yours.
he's greedy as he kisses you, like he's making up for all the times he thought about it while he watched you that night from afar. his hands are just as intrepid, drifting along your body in careful but keen grazes and gropes. everything about you is so soft—it makes his head spin how delicate every part of you he touches feels. the soft swells of your curves, the silkiness of your skin, the little sounds he pulls from you when the presses against the places you like most.
he leans back on his knees, poised between your parted thighs as you lay flat on your back underneath him, and finally—after hours of praising its very existence—hajime tugs down the neckline of your tube top.
your chest spills out as the thin material is drawn away by a single finger looped under the edge as leverage. as your skin, all of your skin, is bared to him, hajime finds himself once again so so pleased with his decision to study abroad.
god bless america has never rung so true.
"fuck, you're so pretty," hajime groans, cupping a hand around each of your tits and pressing them together. you laugh but it's a breathy sound, more air than anything. his thumbs skim gently against the edges of your nipples, working them into stiff little peaks. after a moment, he dips down and catches one in his mouth, closing his lips around it so his tongue can take up the task.
he continues like this for a while, alternating between each breast, switching from his hands to his mouth as he lavishes your skin with attention and sates the thirst that had built throughout the evening. when he opts to use his hands, his mouth quickly finds its way to somewhere else, keeping itself occupied—your collarbones, your throat, your jaw, your lips. he kisses every inch of you that he can reach, but pays special attention to any little freckle or mark he finds along his way, dragging the tip of his tongue against them like he's savouring the taste of them most.
the two of you have been grinding lazily against each other while he devours you. iwa’s straddling one of your trembling thighs, his knee pressed firmly against the seam of your tiny denim shorts, and his painfully hard cock is pinned against your hip as he holds himself up over you. your tube top is still rucked down around your ribs, and iwa’s own t-shirt had been hastily tugged off over his head at some point during the excitement.
"hajime," you pant, tugging against the short hair at his nape as he suckles a bruise into the top of your left breast. he draws back only enough to meet your eyes, though his are unfocused and heavy-lidded, and his warm breath catches on the wet mark of spit left where his lips had just been attached. you look similarly wrecked: lips swollen and kiss-bruised, your stare glassy, your skin dewy with the flush of perspiration. your lips are still parted after having uttered his name so desperately.
that’s another thing iwa likes about it here. he likes being called by his name.
especially like this.
hajime rocks his hips against your own again, pressing his knee against you a little harder, groaning and he dips down and nips at your skin once more.
“i think i’m gonna cum,” he admits through gritted teeth, half-embarrassed and half-recklessly chasing the high he feels cresting in the pit of his stomach. he’s barely even touched you yet—at least not in any way that counts—but seeing you like this in his bed, tasting you in the way he has been, feeling your body react underneath his own, it’s all just a bit too much.
you could chide him for his clumsy eagerness and he wouldn’t even blame you for it, he feels like a pent-up teenager when he gets like this. but you don’t tease him, or reprimand him. instead, you take his cheeks in your hands and guide his lips back up to yours, letting his tongue slide—hot and wet and indecently noisy—against your own.
“cum then,” you whisper into his mouth, canting your hips up to meet the next roll of his. “wanna feel it, haji.”
and fuck if it’s not the hottest thing he’s ever heard.
iwaizumi moans brokenly, his hips picking up a steadier rhythm as he ruts against you. he’s being greedy, he knows that, but how could he deny you your request when you posed it so sweetly?
but he’ll make you feel good afterwards, just like he always does. unclasping the button at the waist of those tiny shorts, peeling them down with the same reverence he’d paid to your top and turning his rapt attention to what he bares there in just the same way too.
it’s friday night in sunny southern california, after all. and hajime intends to make the most of every minute.
hmmm modern trigun!au where vash goes to a rave and tries molly for the first time and it makes his plant markings come out
There’s no way reo’s mom doesn’t hate you the first few years (at least) that youre with him. She doesn’t think your good enough to be with her son but Reo doesn’t give a fuck about her opinions. Keeps bringing you to family dinners and makes a show of kissing you passionately in front of her bc he loves you and he’s sick of her treating you like you don’t exist
bf suna in pictures
people had been wondering where natsuo was and i wanted to draw a grown a fuyumi! had to look up some inuit clothing inspiration :))
CLEAN SHEETS
♡‧₊˚ ꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : MDNI. established relationship, suggestive fluff, language, just a lil warm up blurb for the main man !
“babe, babe.. tetsu!” you gasp out, a laugh escaping you as kuroo pins you against the bed, leaving a trail of kisses along your neck. he pulled back, a little confused on why you were laughing but the sound of it always brought a smile to his face.
“what is it, pretty girl?” he smirks, his fingers coming up under your chin to pull you closer before what would’ve been a searing kiss. “tell me.”
“i- not here.” you rush out. kuroo recoiled slightly, shock and confusion settling into his features. before he could say or do anything you finish your thought, “i just cleaned the sheets.”
“seriously?” he laughed, shaking his head in disbelief, like he didn’t know what to do with you.
“do you wanna wash them after, then?” you snap, teasingly. he contemplates for a moment before shrugging and picking you up. “hey! w-where are we going?”
“well if i can’t fuck you in our bed, how about the shower?” he purred, lightly chuckling as he brought your towards the bathroom. “since you’re so worried about making a mess.”
✨Throwback✨
Redraw of my first art of 2022
I really missed drawing jjk, especially geto. I always meant to add gojo but I never got around to do it.. art took so long back then. These were done in half the time it took me to draw only geto and it’s much more my style, I’m super happy with the shading here. I realized that I used to put much more effort into little details and easter eggs than I do now and I want to work on that in the future. So here’s to another year of finding my art style and improving 🫶🏼
he’s right 🐮🍫
“when they’re feeling insecure”
Pairing: atsumu x reader; kita x reader; suna x reader Genre: reverse comfort-fluff; drabbles & headcanons WC: 5.169 Warnings: N/A A/N: thanks for the request! this is actually the first piece we’ve worked on together so we’re excited for you all to see it! enjoy :) -Dawn & Luna
since you and Atsumu tended to be strapped on time to spend with each other—with you working full-time and him being a national volleyball player—you liked to meet up with him after practice sometimes so you can pick up some food and get some quality time together
he was always taking his sweet time to get showered and ready to go, so you got to bond with some of his teammates, his captain Meian especially
Keep reading
liv i have a question about ur dear suna,, in most fics he's smoking a juul/cigarette so does he ever blow that smoke into readers eyes to be a little shit after inhaling ?!
suna's favourite game is "hide the juul" where without his knowledge or permission you take his juul and put hide it somewhere without him knowing (esp in your own pocket) and then when he asks if you've seen it you say no and then watch him search for it in confusion and even help him out looking under pillows and stuff and then when he's at his wits end bc he cannot for the life of him figure out where it went u just take one like long drag off it and he hears the crackle and turns around with the least impressed look on his face bc u got him AGAIN (trust me he loves this game, keep doing it.)
tw: mentions of alcoholism/sobriety
Sober!Samu coming home from a really really fucking bad week at the shop and just collapsing onto the couch in his apartment in a boneless, dejected heap.
He shuts his eyes, a headache raging between his temples like a storm.
It's not often that Osamu laments being a business owner, or someone's boss, but he had to fire someone this week—a guy who no-called-no-showed one too many times, and that Samu's suspected has been skimming off the till at closing. He'd put the unpleasant task off as long as he possibly could—made an effort to be understanding about what circumstances may have led his employee to that point—but it was starting to impact the other staff members, and Samu has to look out for them, too. And then on top of all of that, the shop's walk-in has been acting up again, and he just got a quote for repairs that's gonna blow his budget for the month.
He wants a drink.
It doesn't happen often these days, so many years into his sobriety, but occasionally (on the worst days) the desire rears its ugly, inveigling head.
He gives the call more thought than he ought to—the familiar siren song doomed to run him aground growing too loud in that quiet, vulnerable moment. He imagines shuffling to the refrigerator and grabbing a cold can from the bottom shelf where he used to keep them. He can almost hear the crack of the top and the and hiss of carbonation escaping the can as he opens it. Can practically feel the familiar burn of bubbles rushing down his throat, and taste the bitter, tannic flavour of hops on his tongue as he swallows it down. He could repeat the process until the thoughts in his head go quiet. Until everything feels a bit lighter. Until—
“Oh! You're home!"
Osamu opens his eyes and sees you standing in the doorway to his bedroom. Your bedroom now too, since you'd recently moved in—though he still sometimes has trouble believing it, since it feels too good to be true. You’re towelling at your hair, having evidently just washed, and looking at him with a bright, welcoming smile.
He watches your expression shift, sees it drop slightly, as your eyes take in his dispirited form.
“Just got here,” he offers weakly, attempting a smile to try and reassure you.
It doesn’t work.
You pad over to him at the sofa.
“You okay?” you ask him, your mouth curling down at the corners in quiet concern.
Osamu’s learned to read your face so well after all this time together, and he knows you’re the same. He knows that no matter what he says, no matter what lie he tries to offer you so that you won’t worry, you’ll still see the truth.
He shuts his eyes, and lets out a long, pained breath.
“Bad day.”
You crawl into his lap without replying, straddling his waist and resting between his spread thighs. You smell like the shower gel you always use, the one he likes so much, and you’re still warm from the bath. He breathes in deeply as you press yourself against him, using it to ground himself.
“Was just thinkin’ about havin' a drink,” he admits further, cracking one eye open to peer up at you.
You don’t look surprised, or panicked. Just thoughtful. A pensive pinch between your brows as you smooth your hands along the front of his Onigiri Miya t-shirt.
“Don’t think that’s gonna make the day any better,” you finally offer him, your eyes meeting his.
He snorts. “Yeah, yer right.”
Osamu winds his arms around your waist, pulling you forward against his chest. You tuck your face into the crook of his neck, your fingers gripping his shirt tightly.
“I’m sorry you had a bad day,” you whisper into his skin, punctuating the sentiment with a featherlight kiss against his pulse point.
“’S better now,” he says back warmly, holding you a bit tighter than before.
The two of you stay like that for a while, just letting him hold you. You occasionally press another kiss against his skin, and as heat rises in his cheeks, Osamu feels the tension of the day burning off with it. The siren song grows fainter in the mist.
You begin to kiss your way up his throat.
“Do you wanna do something to take your mind off things?” you ask him in between kisses.
Osamu hums, a deep, needy sound. “Whatcha got in mind?”
“We could watch a movie?” You kiss the edge of his jaw near his ear, skimming along his jawline towards his mouth. “Or we could go for a walk to the park? Bet the swing set’s free. Maybe even the seesaw if you’re lucky.”
Osamu laughs, seeking your lips with his own. Your mouth is sweet and obliging, like it always is, letting him press his way inside of it to taste you. You unconsciously roll your hips against his when he presses one hand down against the small of your back, and it makes his stomach clench when he feels the pressure of you grinding against his lap.
He wastes no time, flipping you over so you’re sprawled on your back against the sofa cushions. He holds himself up over you with a hand pinned beside your head while you stare up at him breathlessly, your eyes glassy and your gaze fond. Your lips are shiny with spit and Osamu’s never wanted to taste anything so bad in all his life, even though it’s something so familiar to him now.
“I am lucky,” he says, and your gaze softens affectionately at his words. He dips down until his lips are just brushing yours, the corners of his mouth pulling upwards slyly. “But think I have a better idea in mind.”
Hey, do u mind if i ask about a drabble or fic with that last scenario in your page about sero having the best fuck in his life? I need a fic or something about that with smut and fluff <3
Do I mind?? Do I mind having someone encourage me to write self-indulgent fics about my fave characters? Espeically if those fics revovle around my fantasy of hooking up with a college boy at a party? HECK NO I DON'T LETS GO!
word count: ~3700 words
paring: Fratboy!Sero x f!Reader (again self-indulgent, apologies)
warning(s): alcohol consumption, thigh riding, oral (male and female receiving), riding (cowgirl position), dirty talk.... I dunno this is pretty tame. but let me know if I missed anything
It was all Kirishima’s doing.
Sero could admit fully to that. From having him, Bakugou, Kaminari, and the rest of the house throw yet another party. To how Sero would have to be a host, and make sure all of his guests were having a good time, and not destroying the property. To now, having to come join the redhead and the group he was in because of some girl.
That girl being you.
Sero could kind of understand the dilemma. You were with your three friends, and it seemed the rest of the group wanted some action with them. But of course, Kirishima wasn’t going to leave anyone out - so the redhead brought him in to fill out the pairs, to have Sero fall onto this sword for the sake of the rest of them.
But the longer he looked at you, the more confused he got. Sure, you weren’t gorgeous like the rest of them, able to turn heads with a look, but you were very very cute; that smile of yours could light up a dark room. And sure you weren’t dressed in a similar curve hugging dress your friends were, but that off-the-shoulder blouse and short skirt definitely looked good on you. Sero could barely stop looking at your thighs when that flimsy fabric would ride up whenever you bent forward on the kitchen’s island to take a swig of your drink.
You were attractive. Which, again, was the cause of his confusion. Why would his friends beg him to occupy your time for their sake, why was no one else willing? Whatever the reason may be, Sero was more than happy to bear this burden as he slinked over to your side.
“You like hiding out in the kitchen too, huh?”
Sero could help but let out a laugh at your startled gasp, your hand coming up instinctively to cover your mouth to silence any further noise as your wide eyes landed on him. After a beat, your own breathless laughter joined his.
“Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you” Sero apologized, offering his hand to yours “I’m Sero, one of the hosts of this party.”
“No, don’t worry about it, all good!” You smiled, taking his hand and offering your name in return. “One of the hosts huh? I’m taking the other hosts dragged you over here to keep me company?”
“It’s that obvious huh?”
Sero smiled as he took a swig of the beer he was holding, watching you carefully as you moved your shoulders in a shrug; you mirrored his actions with your own drink as you looked in the living room, where your friends were dancing and getting all comfortable with his.
“No, not really.” You reassured “I’m just really used to this sort of thing. Happens at every party we go to. So, I’ve gotten good at spotting the poor friend that drew the short straw.”
“Hey now! I don’t think I’ve drawn the short straw at all!” Sero defended playfully, unable to help himself by looking you over once again, enjoying the way your body practically shivered at his gaze.
“You say that now, but give it an hour. That’s usually how long it takes before I’m abandoned or dumped onto someone else.” You shrugged again, downing the last of your drink.
“Believe me, babe, I am not gonna even think about doing that.” He smirked, leaning onto the counter’s surface, enjoying the challenging smirk on your face as you leaned closer to him.
“Oh yeah? Wanna bet?”
“Best not to bet against me, I never lose.”
~
Sero was true to his word, you had to give him credit, it had been well over an hour and he was no closer to being done chatting you up then when he started. Making you stay by his side as he toured the party, introducing you to people and making sure your cup was never empty. A true modern gentleman, you joke.
And you certainly had to give him credit for being so forward. After an hour had passed, and forcing you to play a round of beer pong - which you lost, of course - he asked if wanted to go upstairs for a while.
And now here you were, standing in the quite impressively large room given the older home. Checking out his posters and other merch he had laying around as you waited for him to close the door and make his way back.
“I’ve never met anyone that had a hammock in their room” You mumbled as you gently pushed the item to make it swing gently “Those hanging chairs, sure, but not a full blown hammock…”
“Yeah? Well I’ll be sure to let you try it out next time you’re here” Sero chuckled, pulling you into his embrace.
“Next time, huh?” You giggled as his lips touched your shoulder.
“Mm-hmm” Seros lips slowly ascended up to your ear, his warm breath making you shiver at it made contact “But right now I kinda want you in my bed.”
You let out a breathless moan when his teeth latched onto your earlobe, unable to help yourself as you sunk deeper into his strong embrace. Mind too cloudy to focus and he slowly led you to his bed, his messy blankets and sheets seemed rather inviting.
“W-wait!” You stopped him, pulling yourself away and facing him “I-i’m sorry I just… I’ve never done this sort of thing before” “What? Sex?” Sero asked, sitting himself down on the edge of the mattress.
“No! No…” You gave a light chuckle “Weirdly enough I have. I just… never done this sort of thing, you know? A hookup?”
“Ah, I see. Well, I won’t pressure you into anything, I wouldn’t be a good host if my guest isn’t comfortable” Sero brought his hand up to yours, tugging you to stand between his legs “We can take things slow, and if you want to stop at any time we can. I won’t get upset or anything.”
“You sure?”
“Yes!” Sero let out a chuckle at your nervousness, finding your sudden bashfulness cute and endearing “I’m sure! Now, come here…”
Sero pulled you into him even closer, forcing you to sit yourself down on his thigh. With one arm securely around your waist, and the other at the base of your neck, he brought you in for a kiss. It was soft, clearly meant for you to get comfortable and you appreciated that he was willing to go slow.
But if you were honest with yourself, you couldn’t go slow; not after the incredibly long dry spell you have been enduring. So, when he pulled away, clearly ready to ask if you were okay, you seized the opportunity to grab fistful of his shirt and pull him back onto your lips.
The surprised groan he made went straight to your core as he pulled you ever closer to him, chest firmly flushed together as he tried to take back the lead you stole from him. Kissing you dizzy, and breathless to the point of lightheadedness. As much as you didn’t want to pull away from this kiss, wanting him to be the first, you had no choice.
That didn’t stop Sero from pulling your lips back to his after you took a deep breath, not wanting to part from you for long. He was enjoying your soft whines and moans, even more so when his tongue entered your mouth. It was getting sloppy, but you couldn’t care less at the way drool started to gather on your chin
But, air was important. You tugged on his hair so you could officially part from one another. Sero only saw that as an opportunity to suck and nip down the column of your neck. When your hands started to tug at his shirt, his started to wander downwards - playing with the hem of your skirt.
“You know” Sero nipped at your collar bone, earning a small gasp from you “This little thing has been torturing me all night. I have to know what’s underneath”
He groaned when his hands slipped under the fabric, caressing the globes of your ass, to find lace meeting his fingertips.
“You came prepared for this, didn’t you?” Sero asked, only to be met with a shake of your head “No? Well, there's only one way to find out, isn’t there?”
He tugged the hem of your blouse up and away from where it was so neatly tucked, quickly maneuvering your arms up so he could remove the soft fabric from your body to reveal what it was hiding. Giving a low whistle to the black lace so wonderfully adorned your chest.
“Ah, so you did come prepared, hmm?” He teased
“S-shut up!” You murmured, bringing your arms up to shield your chest from his gaze - heated skin making its way from your cheeks down your chest.
You didn’t get far before your arms were pinned by your side “None of that now, pretty girl. Be good for me and keep those right there, okay?”
You nod, bashfully meeting his hard gaze. He gives you a small smile, giving you a soft kiss before his hands let go of your wrists in favour of caressing the lace cups that held your breasts.
His lips attached to your collarbone once more, sucking harshly on the skin as his large hands continued their heavy petting. The mixture of both was making you whine, unable to stop yourself from squirming in his lap as you tried your best to keep your hands docile by your side.
It felt like hours of torture before he finally reached his hands behind you to unclasp the item, pulling it away from your chest slowly and tossing it somewhere in the expanse of his room. Not wasting another moment, he leaned forward and began his assault on your chest.
The mixture of wet kisses, harsh nips and bites - which you were sure were leaving marks - and his fingers tugging on your hardened buds made you throw your head back and moan; grateful for the loud music playing downstairs for drowning it out.
Sero groaned when your hips started to move on their own against his thigh, bringing his hands to your hips to help with the movement as he latched to your nipple and bit down; groaning again when another loud moan escaped your throat.
“Yeah, you like that pretty girl?”
You nodded immediately, babbling out yes to him and your ground your hips harder against his thigh, wanting desperately to reach your hands up to tug his hair.
Sero slipped his hand between your bodies, his heavy breathing against your chest, as he lifted your hips slightly. You whined at the brief loss of friction, but that disappointment quickly disappeared when his deft fingers started rubbing your fold through the flimsy, and damp, fabric of your panties.
“God, Sero! More, please!” You begged, hands forming fists at your side as your hips buck into his fingers.
“You’re so wet for me, baby” Sero mumbled, pushing your panties aside and rubbing your clit. “So, so good for me…”
You couldn’t keep yourself upright, not with his relentless fingers and your inability to hold onto him for balance; especially not at his gentle praise. With another groan, you leaned forward onto him fully; head nuzzling itself on his shoulder.
“Too much?” He asked, unable to hold back a smile when he felt you nod “Alright, lay down for me, okay?”
You held back a whine when he removed his fingers and started pushing you towards the sheet; already missing his warmth. But you do as you're told, maneuvering yourself up to where his pillows are spread out and smoothing out his blanket.
It didn’t take him long to jump back on you after you got comfortable. Quickly tugging your skirt and panties down your legs before you realized what was happening. The groan he let out when your cunt was bare, eyeing your glistening folds, made your cheeks heat up once more; whining in embarrassment as you closed your legs.
“No, no, don’t do that babygirl!” He teased, kissing up your body and nipping your neck “Gotta make you cum, don’t I?”
“S’embarrassing…!” You mewled when his hand returned to your folds.
“Nothing to be embarrassed about, believe me” He trailed off as his fingers started to prod at your entrance “Got such a pretty pussy”
His immediate nip at your neck stopped any other attempt of your complaining or disagreement; turning those words into a groan when his fingers finally entered you.
And what skilled fingers they were. You never would have guessed when you first looked at him, but you couldn’t deny the way they were playing you so expertly. The sounds from your wet heat only getting louder, and echoing in the empty room more frequently, the faster he went.
“Yeah, you like that don’t you pretty girl?” He asked, thumb circling your neglected clit, enjoying the way you cried out his name “You gonna cum for me?”
“Yes! S’close!” You moan out, hips started to buck in time with his fingers “Please! Please make me cum!”
“Go on then, make a mess on my fingers. Make a mess for me, do it.”
His words, mixed with everything else he was doing, sent you hurtling towards the edge faster than you ever expected; not that you were complaining. You never had your toes curl or back arch so painfully, but the release was so sweet when it all came crashing down. Your high filling your body with such euphoria that you couldn’t even make a sound as you squirmed and gushed all over his hand.
“That’s it… breathe… good girl” Sero cooed as you slumped back down onto the mattress. “You did so good.”
You hissed when his finger left your twitching hole, hips fidgeting away when he started petting your folds once again. Your hand shooting out to grab his wrist to stop him when it got too much for you.
“Can… can I..” You took a deep breath, “Can I return the favour?”
You didn't give him much of a chance to respond, using the advantage of his wrist in your hand to switch positions. Flipping him onto his back and tugging at his belt before he had a chance to take a breath.
Sero didn’t mind, why would he? A pretty girl like you wanting to go down on him? And so eagerly? Sign him up everyday of the week. He responded to your eagerness with his own, sitting up to quickly remove his shirt and helping you with the article of clothing currently hindering your progress.
You sat back and allowed him to take off his pants, knowing he would do it faster anyway; you were not in the mood to drag any of this out any further. Your teeth biting into your lip as you watched his cock bounce onto his stomach; your hand wrapping around it as soon as his legs were free.
“Ah, fuck!” He hissed when he felt your tongue gently lick the head of his cock, leaning back to get a better view of you between his legs.
Your mouth was magic; one that Sero could not wrap his head around. Because before he knew it, the sensitive head of his cock was hitting the back of your throat over and over again, with your drool spilling onto his balls.
It was sloppy, messy even, but god Sero couldn’t remember when he last got head this good. And the way you were moaning around him, sending all sorts of pleasurable vibrations through him, made him almost embarrassed with how quickly he was about to blow his load down your throat.
“S-stop!” He quietly exclaimed, tugging your hair to pull you off him.
“What’s wrong?” You asked, catching your breath and wiping some of the drool off yourself.
“N-nothing! Nothing I just, ya know, not to cum like this.” Sero chuckled, pulling you up and onto his chest “Would rather feel your tight cunt wrapped around me instead.”
“You certainly have a way with words” You sighed out, breathlessly laughing along with him as you started to line him up to your entrance.
“Wait a minute, pretty girl.” His hands pulling your hips away “Gotta put some protection on”
He kisses you briefly, gently pushing you to the side so he can maneuver around his side desk drawer. And though a whine escapes your throat when his heat leaves you again, you are grateful he cares enough to do this in the first place.
“Okay, now you can hop on” Sero teases as he throws away the wrapper, leaving himself onto his headboard.
You playfully roll your eyes at him, not bothering to give what he said a proper response as you place your legs on either side of his hips. Your own grinding against his length to tease him a little and hear him groan.
But you didn’t have the heart to tease him long, the heat in your core becoming unbearable the long you waited. Reaching behind you angled him at your entrance and slowly sank down; the burning stretch made you groan as you tried to take him fully.
Sero mirrored your groan, his hands coming to tightly grip your waist to help guide, and help you, sink further down. His head tossing back with a choked moan when you finally bottomed out, your nails digging into his chest in a delicious manner.
You paused briefly, gyrating your hips slowly to become accustomed to his length; one that was a little bigger than you were expecting - not that you were going to complain. But it was making it a little difficult for you to ride him, having to start slowly.
“God… you’re so big!” You cried out when you dropped your hips down onto him, ducking your head and repeating the motion again.
“Yeah? Feels - fuck - feels good, yeah?” Sero asked, trying to catch his breath as he helped lift you up and down his length.
“So, so good!” You nodded your head, your hips picking up speed with the extra help he was providing.
After a few more strokes you were leaning back, hands resting on his legs, to allow you a faster pace and to hit that spot deep within you, the one that made you tighten around him so exquisitely.
The way your walls were clamping down on him, the way your pussy was gushing and soaking his length, the sounds of skin meeting skin, and you pretty mewls and whimpers were making Sero come undone embarrassingly fast; faster than he ever though possible.
But he was a gentleman, and didn’t want to cum before you did. Quickly he attached his thumb to your clit the moment he felt his release start to wash over him overwhelmingly.
“Come on pretty girl, I know you’re close. Come one, cum for me please.” He practically begged, eyes shutting tight as he tried to hold off. “Come on, do it for me please!”
You never had a man beg for you like that before, and that - as well as the frantic rubbing on your clit - made your whole body shiver as your release came over you. Sero pulled you back down and onto him, wrapping his arms tightly around you as he followed suit; your pussy milking him for all he was worth.
It took the pair of you a few beats before your breathing, and thinking, became less labored. With Sero coming back to earth first as he pushed you gently onto the mattress once again, peppering your face with small kisses as he did so.
“Be right back, okay? Just gonna go clean us up”
He left your side to go to his ensuite bathroom; on that you didn’t notice he had before; your brain coming to the conclusion at how handy it must be. Those thoughts only amplified when you heard water running. And after a minute or two, he came back with a damp washcloth in his hand and wearing a new pair of boxers.
Sero helped clean you up, making sure to be extra gentle; especially after you hissed when the cold damp cloth met with your sore cunt. He passed you his shirt to cover yourself with as went to throw the towel into his laundry; allowing you the chance to put on your now soiled panties as well.
“So… so do I leave now? Or something?” You ask when he came back, clearly nervous and unsure of what to do as you pick at a loose fiber on your shirt.
“I mean, if that’s what you want to do.” Sero chuckled, moving to your side and flattening your now messy hair “But I’m pretty tired, and I’m sure you are too, and you look pretty comfortable so I wouldn’t mind if you stayed the night.”
“Y-you sure?” You ask again, wanting confirmation that he isn’t just being polite but actually wanting you to stay.
“Yes, I’m sure. Come here.”
Sero started to lay down, shifting his pillows around to make himself more comfortable, holding his blanket out for you so you could join him. You do, without hesitation, which made him chuckle into your hair before placing a kiss to your crown.
“Sweet dreams, okay.”
“Mmm, you too.”
You fall asleep quickly, something that Sero thought was adorable. He tried to follow suit, he was exhausted after the wild ride you gave him; but he just couldn’t shut his brain off. Couldn’t stop thinking about you, and how you gave him the best night he could ever have imagined. The best fuck in his life. And it almost didn’t happen. If he hadn't talked to you, he would have missed out on all of this and spent his time chasing some other girl who wouldn’t nearly be as memorable.
All this from a girl he didn’t even notice at first.
But man was he glad he did. Glad he didn’t miss out on any of it. And he was certainly not gonna pass up another opportunity to see you again. His mind went from racing to thought of what might have been to thoughts of asking for your number and taking you out for breakfast the next morning.
Oh, and to thank Kirishima when he gets the chance.
shout out to @kenzumekodma for beta reading this for me 💛💛
here’s a snippet from my football player!sero fic. idk when imma finish it but i love it so much i wanna share it with y’all :3
cw: fem!reader, making out, heavy petting(?), sero is whipped for reader, not proofread at all
“yeah we can take it slow, reallll slow if we have to. im good at slow.” sero says, sitting up and nodding his head, agreeing with his own statement.
“hanta” you says, and he looks at you slightly confused, “you’re the fastest and most dynamic running back in the entire conference, what have you ever known about ‘going slow’?”
“sero,” you start, placing a hand on his chest, and he frowns at you, “hanta, sorry,” you correct yourself with a warm face, “you don’t have to feel bad about running into me or hurting me or anything like that.” you bite at your lips and avoid his gaze. “things like that happen all the time. i was in the wrong place at the wrong time and i shouldn’t have to be your burden nor problem to try and fix.”
“im not doing this cause i trampled and almost killed you” he says “sorry again by the way,” he says, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek, “im doing this cause i like you. i want to get to know you and your work more, i think you’re fascinating. and i kinda dont give a shit if you dont want my help, im taking care of you until you’re fully healed if you like it or not. dont think of it as me pitying you, im doing it cause you deserve it.”
its nice. having someone to hold like this and someone to hold you too.
but then, the universe decides to disturb the only peace youve seemed to get in the past week or so, and seros phone alarm rings heavy across your dorm, snaping you from your sleepy haze. you assume its his cue to start getting ready for his night practice before his game.
he slips his phone from his sweats and turns the alarm off, “i gotta go,” he says into your hair and you sleepily nod against him, “i know.”
“ill be back as soon as the busses get in, take you to lunch, or maybe i’ll make yo—“
you press your fingers to his lips in an effort to shut him up, “no. youre gonna get back, go to your apartment, and get some rest. i’ll be fine.”
“but—,” he squeeks out but you frown and press your fingers even firmer against his lips, “no buts” you say.”
he smiles and brings his arms from around you, grabbing hold of your hand that attempted to silence him, and kisses it.
he starts at your palm and works his way up to your fingers, peppering small kisses about your hand, keeping eye contact with you.
your face heats more and you turn your head from him to hide your girlish giggle. for him, it was easy to bring out your bashful side.
it feels weird, whatever the two of you have going on. he’s the universitys star running back, in the runnings for some of the most prestigious awards, trophies, and honors, and you’re just some nobody geek who needed a topic to do your work study on.
how the stars aligned for the two of you to cross paths, you’re not sure of, but you couldnt be anymore greatful.
all because he ran into you. literally.
he slowly and carefully starts to separate himself from you, scooting back and standing up from your slightly lofted bed, stumbling and almost falling.
you laugh and cover your smile, much to seros dismay. he could be so clumsy for such a focused athlete.
you try not to feel sad as he collects his things to leave, even though you were just telling him that he didn’t have to dote on you so much. you dont know how to feel really. youve never been treated this nice before.
he gathers the last of his things, keys clinking in his hand as he looks to see if he’s missing anything. after triple checking, his alarm sounds off again and he curses, “i thought i told you to shut up.”
you watch as he slips his phone back into his sweats before trotting over to you, leaning down and placing his hands on both sides of your body, caging you in.
he infiltrates your personal space so easily, but with a gentleness you can’t describe, so you don’t complain. your noses are almost touching and you can feel the breath from his nose blowing onto your face.
“ill be rooting for you,” you breathe, trying to keep your eyes from flickering from his eyes to his lips.
“id expect nothing less of my biggest fan,” hanta replies and you roll your eyes with a smile, the tension finally being broken by his insufferable humor.
“stay off that leg,” he reminds you with a huff and hard stare, “i mean it.”
“aye aye captain,” you reply, finally breaking and letting your eyes flit down to his lips, annoyed you couldn’t keep your composure, but glad youd finally indulged in this little game between the two of you.
hanta does the same and slowly begins to close into your space and you let him, heartbeat heavy in your ears.
theres a part of of you telling yourself to stop and that this was wrong but you didnt care. you didnt care one bit and if some part of sero was telling himself the same thing, he didnt seem to care either.
he carefully slots his mouth against yours and exhales through his nose, relieved he’d finally been able to kiss you.
his lips are soft and gentle as they slide against yours, and you wonder if yours feel the same, if he’d like the way this felt as much as you did.
a hunger washes over him and he pushes a little more into you,noses rubbing almost uncomfortably against each other, your covered breasts rubbing on his chest.
and before you can make a move to go any further, sero breaks the kiss, pulling away from you with a smack that reverberates off your dorm room walls.
“sorry”, he huffs, breathing hard and fast, trying to regain some sort of coherent thought, dazed from the touch of your lips, “im sorry.”
“its okay,” you reassure, shaking your head and ringing your fingers in your lap. “i didnt mind.”
he looks up to you and you smile bashfully, still hot from your kiss.
he lowers his head back down with a smile before straightening himself and walks backwards towards your dorm room door.
“kick their asses,” you smile and he smiles back.
“aye aye captain” he salutes, before opening your door and slipping through, giving you a knowing look and a wave before closing it, the auto lock clicking into place.
you flop down onto your bed, cover your face with your hands, and smile so big your cheeks hurt. if you could kick your legs in excitement, you would but unfortunately you’d have to settle for slightly less exciting expressions of joy.
“he’s gonna be so fucking late.”
Taste Of You | H. Sero
Summary: It all starts with a question, and ends with… well, this.
Pairing: Hanta Sero x AFAB!reader
Warnings: Swearing, smut, fingering, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, a lil bit of dirty talk, Sero has a thing for eating pussy, Sero is a dork, all characters are 18 years old!
Word Count: 4.7k
Available on AO3 here
Note: This is a little something I wrote because I had Sero brainrot. It takes place in this little au I’ve created for myself and is a preface to the Sero fic Sickly Sweet, which is coming next week. Enjoy :)
Keep reading
You lean up against the door frame and watch. Mattsun hasn’t moved in a minute or so, his head buried into his phone as he scrolls endlessly. Every now and again he pauses, eye brows quirked, and then laughs to himself with a shake of the head. He’s still wearing his work clothes, but the suit jacket has been discarded and the tie has been loosened comically low. A green smear of wasabi is permanently ground into the elbow of one side of his otherwise pristine white button down, a remnant of late nights drinking after work.
“What’re you doing?”
Mattsun doesn’t even look up.
“Watching tiktok and putting the dishes away.” He jerks a thumb to the empty sink where dishes used to be. “I’m a multitasking.”
“I can see that,” you laugh, “Do you wanna have sex right now?”
Mattsun raises an eyebrow. Then, what you said seems to really hit him; the man looks up, puzzled, but interested. He practically throws his phone to the side, letting it slide across the countertop.
“Uh, not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but what brought this on?” he grins, coming over to you with open arms. “Did me doing the dishes turn you on that much?”
“I’m about to take a shower and I really don’t want to get sweaty afterwards,” you explain, gesturing to your gym clothing, “But I can see myself possibly wanting cock later tonight, so I figured- hey, why not just do it now?”
Your arms snake around his waist and you tilt your head just enough to welcome a peck on the lips. Mattsun snorts, but happily obliges, giving you the sweet contact you desire. “And yeah, the dishes thing is a little sexy.”
“Aw, but I like you right out of the shower.” Mattsun presses his lips against your cheek, then down the curve of your neck,his love quickly turning lewd. The sharp nip of teeth surprises you, driving you further into his arms. “You smell so good and you’re so soft-”
“But then I’ll get sweaty again and need another shower in the morning.” You press both hands against his chest, unsuccessfully trying to keep your distance. Your husband’s curls tickle against your neck as he silently chuckles to himself, worming his knee in between your thighs. With height alone he can manhandle you, reaching and grabbing wherever he wants. “I thought you liked me dirty.”
“You have a point– I do like the nasty, sweaty thing.” At that, the velvet heat of his tongue flicks out and drags across your collarbone. You squeal and wiggle, equal parts ticklish and turned on. “When you’re all salty and-”
“Issei!”
You both dissolve into real laughter. His hands keep exploring, kneading and pulling your ass, exploring the plane of your back, and sneaking around to roll your tits in his hands.
Suddenly Mattsun stops, frozen mid-squeeze.
“Oh, man,” he says, eyes wide, as he realizes what this means. “If we do it now, I can do laundry afterward so we can get real messy and still sleep on clean sheets.”
He grins down at you. “No sleeping on the wet spot! Planning sex fucking rules.”
“Stop, I’m already horny,” you say, half joking, “Keep talking about doing chores and I’ll cum.”
“And people say marriage ruins your sex life.” Mattsun lets you go and brings his hand down against your ass, hard enough you yelp at the sting and stumble forward. “Get in that bed and I’ll dirty talk about vacuuming or something, you fucking freak.”
“You seem hornier than I am, weirdo!” you scold, skittering off towards the bedroom. Much slower footsteps echo behind you.
“Hey, you started it.”
u kiss isagi in the parking lot and now yall have to stay in the car for 20 mins till his dick goes down