Haikyu Men Thinking Of You While Masturbating - Part 2

Something To Cry About

pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x f!reader

word count: 3.5k

warnings: oral (f!receving), face sitting, overstimulation, dacryphilia, mild degradation, multiple orgasms, soft sex, playfighting/wrestling, princess as a nickname, size kink, not really impact play but reader gets spanked v gently, tickling, gonna say v mild humiliation just in case, biting, marking, unprotected sex, creampie

basically: you just wanna treat Bakugou right on his birthday. of course, your willful husband has other plans.

notes: this is just a lil' happy birthday fic for my favorite blasty boi <3 yeah, it's late, but so is everything I do. Kats understands, thank goodness <33

Katsuki is a creature of habit. Always has been, probably always will be. 

He’s always in bed by absolutely no later than 10 o’clock and then he’s up by 6 the following morning. Even on his days off, he insists on keeping to his routine, so that he doesn’t risk his sleep schedule getting thrown out of whack. It’s hard enough for him to wake up each morning and it never gets any easier, yet he persists. The same routine each and every day. 

Roll out of bed. Wish that he could sleep for a little while longer—which he could, if he let himself. Go for a run. Make coffee. Fix breakfast. Go back to the bedroom. Once again, wish that he could rejoin you in bed. Drag you out of the bed. Give you a good morning kiss and then sate you with coffee, food, and more kisses. He’ll never refuse your request for more kisses.

There were rare occasions that he broke his habits for. Celebrations, emergencies, and most rarely, just for the fuck of it.

Today was an occasion. A pretty big one too, but he had still set his alarm last night when he tucked in at precisely 9:59 p.m., telling you that he’d wake you by 9, at the latest. Little did he know that you had unplugged his alarm. Turned off the backup alarm on his phone too, because of course he had a backup. 

The hour was now nearly 8 a.m. and you were honestly surprised that he was still asleep. Normally, his natural alarm clock has him up by no later than 7, but he’s been working a lot lately, hence why you decided to give him the opportunity to catch a few extra z’s this morning while you fixed breakfast for a change. He was usually the chef between the two of you, but you knew your way around a simple breakfast spread. It’s not going to be much compared to the fancy breakfast in bed he’d prepared for you on your birthday, but it’ll be edible. 

You debate letting him sleep for longer, but if you know your husband–and you do–he’ll grumble all morning about how you let him oversleep, birthday be damned. So, you stroll into the bedroom, set the breakfast tray down on the dresser for now, and crawl into bed to poke the sleeping bear. 

“Good morning, birthday boy,” you greet in a sing-song voice, your hand gently working into his blonde locks, which are obviously afflicted with a case of bedhead. “It’s time to get up, baby.”

“My alarm clock decides when it’s time to get up and I did not hear that shit go off,” he murmurs, turning over to shove his face down into the pillow. 

“Well, I’m your alarm clock today and I’ve decided that now is a perfect time for you to wake up and enjoy your breakfast,” you insist as you drape yourself on top of him. He’d never truly mastered the art of ignoring you. He couldn’t.

All he offers you in response is a grunt and a muttering of something that’s swallowed by his pillow. 

“C’mon,” you pout, lifting a hand to prod at his cheek, poking him once. Twice. Three times..nothing. “Fine,” you huff, folding your hands on his shoulder and resting your chin atop them as you shrug. “But you’re not allowed to complain that I let you sleep too late.”

He sighs and another inaudible grumble can be heard before he finally lifts his head far enough from the pillow to let coherent words pass through his lips. “What time is it?”

“Just past 8,” you say as you rest your head and let your eyes close. Falling back asleep was tempting. “Still too early for me.”

“8? I slept in that fuckin’ late?” He picks his head up a bit more, jostling you from what was a rather comfortable position. 

“What did I just say about complaining?” You tease, shaking your head as you roll off of him, back into your rightful place beside him in bed to prop your head up in your palm.

“It’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to, right? Ain’t that how that shit goes?” He smirks as he turns over to face you, mirroring your position as his other hand reaches out to rest on your waist, drawing you into him. 

“Oh, I’ll give you something to cry about, Katsuki,” you slide closer, slotting your calf through his legs and bringing your knee up over his thigh, winding yourself around him with all of your limbs as your arm slips beneath his own to hold him.

“Yeah? I’d like to see a pipsqueak like you try,” he snorts. “C’mon, princess. Give it your best shot.”

He runs his hand along your side and punctuates his words with a gentle swat to your behind, one eyebrow cocking as the smirk etched into his features only grows. You scrunch your face up in a determined scowl. You couldn’t take him, but you could still try your damnedest. There’s no way that you could actually hurt a behemoth such as him, so you could also make an attempt without worry. 

“Alright, but just remember, you asked for it,” you shake your head, flashing your palms as if to absolve yourself from any would be guilt should you actually manage to inflict an injury upon him. All he can do is laugh in reply. 

“I’m waiting,” his eyes sparkle as they perceive you, sizing you up for probably the millionth time since you’ve met, but never losing any of their luster as he takes you in. 

Your giggle reaches his ears before your hands find his shoulder, trying to pin it down to the plush of the mattress beneath you, but he won’t budge. You roll your whole weight into him and nothing happens, save for the smile creeping across his face. 

“Is that the best you got? I oughta teach you a thing or two if this is your idea of self defense,” he chuckles. “Should I let you win? Or should I give you somethin’ to cry about instead?” 

The smile on his face takes a turn in the direction of mischievous, an all too familiar expression that has your stomach doing flips at the sight of it. 

“How would you do that?” The timbre of your voice is deceptively innocent as you stop your efforts, deflating back into the sheets, smushed up against your brick wall of a spouse. 

“Like this,” he shrugs and slips both his hands around you, seizing you by your middle to flip you over the top of him and slam you into the mattress as he switches places with you. 

There’s a dampened whoosh of fabric as your spine sinks into the bed, your head cradled by down pillows that smell like his shampoo. Laughter is traded, but it quickly gives way to mild terror on your end as his fingers begin to wiggle up and down your sides. 

“Babe! Don’t! Ahh–d-don’t, please!” You beg, but it’s all in vain as his hands glide along your torso, attacking all of the places that he knows are sure to turn you into a giggling, gasping mess. 

“Say mercy,” he chuckles. “C’mon, darlin’, you know the rules.”

“Fuck your–ha! Katsukiiii! Ple–AHH–please!”

“Nah, you asked for this, remember?” He’s growing more smug by the second. “Gonna make you laugh until you cry. Or until you say mercy.”

“No!” You shake your head, writhing beneath him while you try to defend yourself, elbows pulled in close while your tiny hands try to fend off his all encompassing ones. “Stop!”

You’re already gasping for breath, trying to pull in fresh air amidst the fit of laughter and the on-going struggle, but he always wins this little game and you’re determined not to let him this time. So you fight back–like, actually. 

Your palms connect with his pecs and you push him with such force, that you catch him off guard. He stops tickling you long enough for you to take advantage of the opening you see and you grab hold of him, rocking to one side and then the other, using his own body weight as leverage to roll on top of him before you throw your arms up in the air, victorious for once!

“Good job,” he chortles, hands swallowing the expanse of your thighs as he slides his palms over your warm skin, exposed by the immodest hem of your sleep shorts–the ones he loved on you so much. 

Kind, lazy eyes flicker over your form, slowly consuming your silhouette like the last, glowing embers of a fire consume kindling. You’ve always felt like you could burn under his ruby red gaze and even after all this time, that still felt true. 

“I’m sorry,” he says after a moment, his gaze falling to where his thumb was absently rubbing against the inside of your thigh. 

“What for?” You cock your head to the side, genuinely confused by his sudden apology. 

“For this,” he smirks, but you hardly have a chance to see it before your back hits the mattress again and this time his weight is lumbering over you. 

Two muscled arms cage you in on either side while his heavy hips keeps yours pinned down. You’re at his mercy, but you can’t say that you would ever complain about being in such a position. 

“I still don’t understand what you’re apologizing for,” you breathe out a laugh, tilting your chin up to silently ask for an overdo good morning kiss, which he happily grants you. 

“Oh, well m’still gonna make you cry, princess. I’m a man of my word, you know that,” he insists as his nose nuzzles yours, a gentle gesture compared to the way that his hands snatch your shorts away from you. 

The cute underwear you’d put on specifically for this round of birthday sex too. Gone in a flash as he impatiently slips them right off your body and spreads you wide for his ravenous eyes, drinking you in again in all your exposed glory. He’s salivating by the time he hunkers down between your thighs, too focused on the task at hand to tease you about how flustered you look right now. He always found it adorable. Endearing, even. But there was nothing adorable or endearing about the things that he was thinking about at the moment. 

“Baby,” the noise falls from your lips in something akin to a whimper as you press your hands flat to the sheets, which you knew it was only a matter of time before you were gripping at them for dear life. 

He hasn’t even touched you yet and already, you’re giving him exactly what he wants. Happy Birthday, Katsuki, you suppose. 

“Say my name, baby,” he instructs as he presses the softest kisses to ever grace your body along the inside of your thighs, each one sending a new, potent shiver down your spine. 

“K-Katsuki,” you sigh, voice already shaking from the anticipation of the pleasure that awaits you, just inches away. 

You can feel his warm breath fanning over your poor, throbbing pussy. You close your eyes and brace yourself for the contact of his mouth, but it doesn’t come. 

“On second thought,” he looks up at you, vermillion eyes gleaming as he toys with a devious idea that he’s clearly excited to share with you. “Why don’t you sing me happy birthday? You were goin’ to anyway, right? Let’s see if you can finish the song before I make you cum.”

“You can’t be seri—oh, fuck,” you gasp, eyes fluttering closed as his warm, wet tongue parts your folds, diving into explore your sweetness with no trace of shame as he lets out a groan. 

“Best start singin’, princess,” he murmurs, lips brushing against your clit before they close around it and he sucks. 

“H-ha—ppy birthd—ay to y-you,” you comply with far more difficulty than you anticipated. 

He hums in satisfaction, the vibrations making it near impossible for you to think straight let alone sing this godforsaken song, but you fear that he might stop if you do. 

“Happy b—irth—oh, fuck—b-birthday to you. B-baby, I can’t,” you whine, the pleasure quickly becoming too much entirely. 

It might be a more feasible task if he weren’t just so good at what he does. He knows exactly how to drive you crazy. How to get you right up to the edge in no time flat. You’d blame it on the years of experience he has with your body specifically, but he’s always seemed to inherently understand how to navigate it. You’d think somebody had handed him a map the first time you were together and since then, he’s only gotten better with practice. 

“Yes ya can,” he counters, giving your swollen clit a break as he drags his drenched lips along the inside of your thigh. “I know you’re getting close already, aren’t you?” 

You can feel that famously smug grin of his against your skin before he nips at it, taking your flesh between his teeth to suck a faint, red mark there and then repeating the process on the other side, despite how you squirm. 

“Can’t,” you shake your head, knitting your fingers into his hair to tug gently as he leaves yet another set of matching marks on either side of your innermost thigh.

His tongue teases your slit, his hot breath tickling you as he lets out a chuckle that edges on condescending. He dives in again, tongue plunging into your core without mercy this time, so that he can fuck you with the long, pink muscle while he hooks his arms beneath your legs, holding you firmly in place. 

“Katsuki! Fuck. Oh fuck, baby, p-please,” your whining persists, but it only serves to encourage the grin on his face. 

He licks a stripe up to your clit, hovering above your swollen sex as saliva slowly cascades off of his tongue. A drop of it lands with a wet plop and he watches intently as it runs along your delicate folds, a low growl rumbling in his chest while his hips start to roll. 

“C’mon,” he tears his greedy gaze away from your entrance to look you in the eyes. “I’ll even slow down for ya, baby.”

Two long, thick digits are suddenly prodding at your hole, but just one slips inside to slowly work you open, his eyes never leaving your face. He always likes to watch when he has the chance. See each little twitch and tug of your facial features when he touches you. How your eyes flutter when he curls his finger. How your mouth falls open and you let out one of those moans that is so soft it should be considered a sin in and of itself when his thumb circles your clit. It all looks like art to him and he is simply honored to be living in the presence of a masterpiece. 

You aren’t sure if this is making things better or worse for you. Regardless of pace, it just feels so damned good when he’s the one pulling the strings, puppeteering you in the paradise that he keeps hidden in the palm of his hand. 

“Happy bir—thday, dear Ka—ha—atsuki,” you half whisper and half sing, both hands pressing to the sheets on either side of you as you clutch at the fabric, trying to take slow, steadying breaths as his hand moves slower still. “Happy birthday..to—,” is as far as he allows you to get before he attaches his lips to the ones between your legs again and begins absolutely devouring you. 

Your hips jerk, but he wraps both arms around either of your thighs again, keeping you right where he wants you. That is, until he decides that this position isn’t exactly where he wants you right now. 

He suddenly rolls onto his back, catching you off guard when he takes you with him. You find yourself straddling his face, hips bucking of their own accord as you teeter right along the edge, your impending orgasm only staved off thanks to the mild shock of the change in position. 

“K-Katsuki,” you mewl, a desperate plea, but certainly not a complaint as you pick yourself up to sit up straight, hips still rolling as his tongue plunges in and out of you. 

“Cum f’me, princess. Cum right on my fuckin’ face. You can do it,” he rasps, red eyes locked on yours as he laps at your folds with renewed vigor, rapidly flicking your clit with his tongue until he hears the telltale sign that you’re about to do precisely as he asked.

He wraps his lips around your now entirely too sensitive clit to suck, lashing his tongue faster still until your hips jerk and you sob his name, riding his face while he grins and groans into your pussy slurping up every last drop of your essence that his mouth can retrieve. 

“Ka—ha! Katsuki, s’too much. T-too much, baby, please. I can’t take it,” you gasp, panting for breath as tears manifested from pure pleasure well in your waterline, threatening to spill over your cheeks.

He finally relents, but only to flip you right back over, grunting like a feral animal as he hooks his large hands around your thighs and pulls you closer to him while he gets onto his knees. He has no doubt that you’re soaked enough to take him, so he wastes no time, impaling you immediately with the full length of his long, thick, and throbbing cock. 

“Shit, you feel so fuckin’ good, baby,” he grunts, sighing with relief as he lumbers over you and starts to move, taking his time, despite his desire to ravage you. 

Your eyes roll back as you try to take in more air, feeling robbed with each slow roll of his hips. Already, you can feel the pressure building inside you again and you cling to his biceps, squeezing his muscular arms almost as tight as your still pulsing walls constrict around his cock. 

He sees the way your eyes have turned glassy, wet with tears that he just can’t wait to make you spill. A small smirk comes to his lips as he picks up the pace, thrusting a bit faster and with more purpose. 

It works beautifully. He’s more than pleased to see those dormant tears finally trail over your cheeks while you make such pretty, needy noises for him, just for him. He leans down to kiss the tears away before he leans in your ear, speaking through his labored breaths, “Told ya I’d give you somethin’ to cry about.”

He pulls back to smile down at you, capturing your lips again before you can say anything, not that you could anyway. It feels too good for you to be able to form a coherent thought. All you can do is smile blissfully against his lips and let him swallow the moans and whimpers that spill freely from you. 

He eventually rests his forehead against yours, his hips moving faster still as one of his hands catches your waist and he groans, almost as if he’s in pain, but you know that he’s close and you are too. A few more thrusts is alll it takes to send your rocketing into oblivion again, beckoning fresh tears to your cheeks while your walls clamp down around him and your cries of ecstasy echo around the bedroom. 

His hips stutter a moment later, his own sinful noises meeting and melding with yours as he pours all of himself into you, continuing to fuck his hot seed deep inside of you while he buried his face in the crook of your neck. He pants as his thrusts taper off, slowing them as he licks along your collarbone and up to your neck to taste the salty sheen of sweat you’d worked up until he stills inside of your and nuzzles his nose against your jaw. 

“I love you,” he says softly, leaning in to kiss another stray tear away before he captures your lips again. 

“I love you too, baby,” you reply, cupping his face in your hands to pull him in for another kiss. “Now, can we enjoy your birthday breakfast?” You ask with a tender smile as you drag your thumb along his chiseled jaw. 

“No, thanks. I already ate,” he teases, chuckling as you roll your eyes and let out a soft giggle, your lips melding together once more while he rolls onto his side and draws your against him to wrap you snugly in his arms.

everyone thinks you’re dating !

✸ ft. bakugo, deku, todoroki, & sero

✸ info + warnings: fluff, college au

✸ BAKUGO scoffs and easily dismisses the hearsay. he’d never done anything to warrant people believing that the two of you were dating. in fact, he actively tried to avoid you. you were like a gnat constantly flying by his ear that he couldn’t swat away; constantly sitting next to him in class, always insisting on walking together whenever you caught him strolling down the sidewalks of campus, forcing your way into his routine. though, he had to admit, it did feel odd on those days when you weren’t around to pester him about anything and everything. he doesn’t find himself internally groaning at the sight of you and counting the minutes until he can rush away from you anymore. he’d grown used to the buzzing that accompanied your presence and it wasn’t nearly as annoying as it had been in the beginning. he’s silent for the rest of the outing, the little voice in his head asking why he was still so fixed on the topic of you and him being a couple—and why he wasn’t more upset that everyone thought you were.

✸ DEKU waves his hands in dismissal and assures his friends that you both aren’t anything more than friends. though, he isn’t sure how convincing he is—he’s sure the waver in his voice and the growing red beneath his freckles aren’t helping his case at all. he’s left wondering how people came to that conclusion while he walks home. sure, the two of you had gotten closer through your tutoring sessions, but he never thought that people would take that as an indication that you guys had gotten together. but the more he pondered on the thought, the more he began to think about how much he really did like you. your smile and laughter were contagious and deku couldn’t help but feel warm and safe in your presence. he felt as though you accepted him for him—the good and the bad, his flaws and all. he had shut his friends down earlier, but izuku didn’t mind that people assumed you were a couple; after all, maybe their speculation would manifest into the real thing someday.

✸ TODOROKI furrows his eyebrows in confusion at the implication that you and him shared that kind of relationship. did it really appear like that to outsiders? but now that he thought about it, he was more comfortable with you than he was with most other people. that wasn’t strange, though—at least, not to shoto. he didn’t think that it was weird to prefer your presence over everyone else’s. it’s normal for him to reach out to you first when he has news to share. it wasn’t odd that he thought about you in bed while waiting for sleep to overtake him. he wasn’t ashamed to acknowledge you as one of the most important people in his life. none of that ever struck him as unusual, not until now. and unusual wasn’t necessarily bad; shoto was more than content with the bond between the two of you, but he never considered that the feelings he had for you stemmed deeper than friendship. that night, you’re on his mind as usual, but this time he’s thinking about how much he’d like to be able to call you his partner.

✸ SERO is taken aback by the comments his friends make as he slides into the booth across from them—ones that express their surprise at your absence and question whether or not the two of you are experiencing trouble in paradise. he snorts and asks what they’re going on about, clarifying that you guys aren’t in a relationship. they find it hard to believe and even question if he’s telling the truth; to which he replies yes. he could understand why they might have thought that. he brought you around a lot and during times when you weren’t attached to him by the hip, he’d always find a way to bring you up in conversation. and he’d be lying if he said he never thought about how things might change if the two of you were actually dating. he wouldn’t have to think about how it would feel to hold your hand or rest his palms on your waists or kiss your lips—he’d just be able to do it. sero cherishes the friendship you share, but would it be selfish of him to want all of that and more?

thanks for reading! comments and reblogs are appreciated <3

Your relationship with Sukuna was on its last legs. You tried to make things work, but he was as difficult as it could get, and mean. After a particularly terrible fight, the two of you made up, and you began to hope again. Later that night, his friends called, inviting him to the club. You told him you weren’t comfortable with it. He agreed to stay, even tucking you into bed.

But once you fell asleep, he snuck out.

Things went downhill from there.

Sukuna and his friends drank heavily, and soon he was caught up in the chaos—laughing, dancing, and losing control. While you slept, his friends began posting videos online: Sukuna receiving a lap dance, drunk and kissing another girl, clearly high and out of his mind.

When you woke up, you reached over to find his side of the bed cold and empty. You thought he had left early for work. But then your phone started blowing up with messages from friends and strangers alike. Your heart pounded as you unlocked it and opened Instagram, only to see the posts.

One after another, each post felt like a knife to your chest—Sukuna smiling lazily, his hands on another woman, his lips brushing hers. You could see the flashing lights, hear the blaring music, and feel the sting of betrayal in every picture and clip. Your fingers trembled, and your vision blurred with tears as you watched in disbelief.

The room felt like it was spinning. You tried to steady yourself, but the weight of it all was crushing. How could he do this to you, especially after you had been so open, so vulnerable about your feelings? After he had promised to stay?

You had told him, in the heat of making up, that this was his last chance. You were clear: if he messed up again, you were packing your things and going back to the States. He had looked you in the eyes and promised. And yet, he still went and did this.

Meanwhile, Sukuna was still sleeping, his head pounding and the room spinning. He didn’t remember a damned thing the night before. He remembered sneaking out, thinking he’d make it back before sunrise, slip back into bed, and act like nothing happened. You were just being too dramatic, he thought. You’d told him how you didn’t like his friends, that they hated you and were trying to break the two of you up. He’d laughed it off as paranoia. Crazy talk.

He vaguely remembered drinking a shot—just one—and after that, things got hazy. He didn’t believe for a second that his friends would spike his drink.

No, they’d never do that… right?

But now, as he blinked his eyes open, he realized something was very wrong. Next to him was a woman he didn’t recognize, definitely not you. The sunlight was streaming through the window, and panic shot through his body like a jolt of electricity. His heart raced as he sat up, the events of the night before still a foggy blur.

“Oh, shit,” he muttered under his breath, his mind starting to piece together the fragments. You two had just made up—how could he have been so reckless?

Sukuna fumbled for his phone, his hands shaking. The screen lit up, showing the time: 12:46. His heart sank even further. He really had messed up this time. The battery was about to die, a thin red line warning him he had little time left. He glanced around, trying to make sense of the unfamiliar room.

What confused him most was that he was still in his clothes from the night before. A small relief—at least he hadn’t slept with the woman next to him. But that didn’t matter much, did it? He was still in bed with another woman, a stranger, and that alone was enough to shatter whatever trust you had left in him.

His head throbbed with a dull, pounding pain, a mix of alcohol and regret. He desperately needed water, but his feet felt glued to the floor. As he forced himself to sit up, the room seemed to spin around him. He rubbed his temples, trying to shake off the fog of the hangover, but his mind remained a jumbled mess.

He checked his phone again, scrolling through the flood of messages, but your name wasn’t among them. No missed calls, no texts, no messages. Just silence.

It took you two hours to get yourself to function properly. When something traumatic happened, you had this tendency to just shut down. No crying, no shouting—just silence. You couldn’t even talk right now. You sat on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the wall, your mind numb. The pain was so immense that it felt like nothing at all, a hollow void where your heart should be.

Slowly, you got up, moving like you were underwater, every step heavy and disjointed. You made your way to the bedroom closet and grabbed a suitcase, your hands moving on autopilot. You began packing everything you owned in this place, methodically folding clothes, stacking books, gathering small, personal items that had once made this space feel like home. Now, every object felt like a weight dragging you down.

You didn’t remember much from those moments, only flashes of despair and confusion. Your mind was clouded, a fog of grief settling over you. All you knew was that you wanted to disappear, to somehow escape the unbearable ache in your chest.

How could this happen? Why? The questions repeated in your mind, over and over, like a broken record. Were you not enough? Was he cheating this whole time?

Your thoughts spiraled into a dark place, each one more suffocating than the last. The silence of the room pressed in around you, amplifying every doubt, every fear. You felt lost in a sea of uncertainty, desperately searching for something to hold onto, but finding nothing but emptiness.

You paused for a moment, standing still in the middle of the room, clutching a shirt to your chest. You wanted to scream, to cry, to do anything, but no sound came out. All that filled you was a deep, aching void that left you feeling more alone than ever before.

Just as you finished packing, the door opened, but you didn't flinch. Your fingers continued scrolling through your phone, searching for flight tickets. You didn’t care where it would take you—anywhere but here.

Sukuna stepped inside, his expression a mix of confusion and panic. You didn’t look up. Your face remained calm, almost eerily so, as if you were in a trance. You kept scrolling, your focus entirely on the screen, like it was the only thing anchoring you to reality.

“Where are you going?” he asked, his voice tight with panic. But you said nothing.

Your face was expressionless, your eyes fixed on your phone. He moved closer, desperate now. “Please,” he continued, “can’t we just… talk?”

Finally, you paused, letting out a slow, controlled breath. But you didn’t look at him. Your silence was deafening, more unnerving than any yelling or screaming could have been.

He swallowed hard, sensing the change, feeling the weight of your silence pressing down on him. “I… I didn’t mean for this to happen,” he tried again. "I don’t even remember what happened. I think I was drugged or something..." His voice grew softer, almost pleading now.

You continued to tap the screen, the sound of your fingers the only noise in the room. You found a flight and pressed "book," moving methodically, as if this was just another task on a list. Your calmness was unnerving, like the quiet before a storm.

“Y/N… please,” Sukuna whispered, taking another step forward, but your detachment made him falter.

You finally glanced up at him, your expression unreadable, your voice steady and calm. “I'm leaving,” you said quietly, as if stating a simple fact.

He blinked, stunned by the flatness of your tone. There was no anger, no emotion—just a cold, stark finality. “But… we can work this out,” he stammered, “right?”

You looked back at your phone, as if he were no longer even there. You were done listening, done hoping, done believing. His words were just noise now, meaningless in the face of everything he had broken.

Sukuna was a big man, another reason you had fallen in love with him. Being with him had made you feel so safe, so happy. But when you reached for your suitcase, he finally broke.

He snatched it out of your hand. "No, no, you're not leaving me," he insisted, his voice frantic. "Look, please just listen. I know I lied to you and snuck out, but I swear I would never cheat on you."

You stood still, watching him, his large frame towering over you, his eyes wide with fear and desperation. But your heart felt like ice. You could see the panic in his eyes, hear the tremor in his voice, but it didn’t matter. Not anymore.

His hands gripped the suitcase so tightly that his knuckles turned white. "Please," he begged again, "just… don’t go."

For a moment, you almost felt something—a flicker of the love you used to feel. But it was gone as quickly as it came. “Let go,” your voice is calm and steady.

“No, look, I would do anything,” he blurted out, his voice rising with desperation. “Okay, I see now why you don’t like my friends. I’ll cut them out. I won’t ever talk to another girl again. Just… anything. Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. Please.”

He was a mess, still hungover, his head pounding, his hands trembling. His breath came in ragged gasps as he struggled to keep it together, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. He looked so close to breaking down completely.

Why did he make this mistake? Why did he let himself slip up so badly? You had given him a chance, and he had blown it in mere hours. The realization seemed to dawn on him, his face twisting with guilt and regret. His shoulders sagged, and his voice broke. "I don’t want to lose you,” he whispered, his tone raw with fear.

But it didn’t matter anymore. Whatever he was offering now felt hollow, too little, too late. Your heart felt heavy, but your mind was made up.

"Let go," you repeated, firmer this time, your eyes locking onto his.

Sukuna's hand fell away from the suitcase as if it weighed a ton, his breath hitching. He wanted to fight, to argue, but the defeat in your eyes left him lost. “I’m so sorry,” he mumbled, his voice almost inaudible, choking on his own words.

But all you did was nod, a small, almost imperceptible nod, and turn toward the door.

He stood there, his whole world crumbling, as you walked away.

ུᩧ JJK TWITTER LINKS P2 !

৻ꪆ instructions. before clicking, you must be logged into your acc and have twitter open in order for these links to function .

TOJI FUSHIGURO. ꒱‎

passenger princess. ⋆ putting you to bed with no complaints. ⋆ he’s got that good fucking dick. ⋆ putting you in a mating press. ⋆ giving toji a sloppy bj. ⋆ using you as his fuck toy.

CHOSO KAMO. ꒱‎

he’s such a dumb puppy. ⋆ his favorite gamer girl. ⋆ bottoming out n cumming. ⋆ choso spooning you. ⋆ straddling his lap. ⋆ fucking you on his gaming table. ⋆ how he wakes you up.

NANAMI KENTO. ꒱‎

prettily sucking dick. ⋆ pathetically grinding on his boot. ⋆ nanami with a hidden oral fixation. ⋆ smacking your backside. ⋆ cowgirl ver of ‘you’re just a girl.’ ⋆ riding him in cute lingerie.

GOJO SATORU. ꒱‎

kinky shit with gojo. ⋆ going down on him. ⋆ fucking your holes. ⋆ reversed cowgirl. ⋆ doggy with the bear he got you. ⋆ bouncing on his dick. ⋆ delicious backshots. ⋆ fucking you in a maid costume.

GETO SUGURU. ꒱‎

satisfying ghostface with your tongue. ⋆ messy deepthroat. ⋆ fucking in his car. ⋆ gun kink. ⋆ he’s got you chained up. ⋆ such a squishy ass. ⋆ hitting it on them janky ass seats. ⋆ riding him.

can i request a tanaka x all right 🍑

maybe the reader didn’t feel comfortable in a dress he purchased for her.

- also i luv ur writing <33

me, finally getting to write about tanaka: yeeeeah that's what i'm talking about baby, LET'S GOOOOOOO

words: 634

cw: fem!reader, insecurity, body image tw, oral (f receiving), bathroom sex, minors dni

when tanaka opened the door to find tears in your eyes, he went into protection mode.

“who?” he asks simply, fists ready to connect to someone’s face any second. but he softens when you shake your head.

“it’s not that… i just feel stupid,” you don’t meet his gaze, instead looking at the bathroom mirror to tug at your clothes.

tanaka steps inside, shutting the door behind him. he’ll admit, he’s not so good at understanding what you mean sometimes, often needing to be told outright how you’re feeling. but he sees you grimacing at your reflection, pulling at the dress he had bought you a few days ago.

confused, he reaches and takes the material of the dress between his fingers. “you don’t like it,”

you’re quickly turning to him, taking his hands into yours. “no! it’s so pretty, baby, it’s just that…” staring back at the mirror, there’s a look of defeat on your face. “it’s me that’s the problem. nothing looks good on me.”

he’s more confused than before, watching you fuss over your appearance. tanaka knew you had insecurities, he never understood why. you were a knockout, a goddess among mortals. tanaka was lucky to have the privilege of dating you.

but seeing you uncomfortable in something that he bought you makes him feel that he had messed up somehow—that he wasn’t doing a good enough job of making you feel desired, beautiful.

you’re suddenly lifted onto the bathroom sink, the fabric of your dress pushed up so it bunches at your waist. “ryuu?” you’re shocked when tanaka drops to his knees, spreading your dangling legs.

“i just don’t get it,” he says, sliding your panties down your legs, never breaking eye contact with your cunt. “you’re so beautiful…why would you—” he cuts himself off, diving between your legs to lap at your sex.

when it came to eating you out, tanaka could be down right feral. he growls into your pussy, tonguing and slurping as if it was the only meal he was going to have. you have to stop him, the two of you are already late to the party you’re supposed to be at. but he fights off your attempts to push him away.

his mouth is ravenous, making a mess of your thighs with his spit and your juices. if you weren’t on the cusp of a mindblowing orgasm right now, you might just feel embarrassed.

tanaka detached himself from your center with a fucking pop, replacing his tongue with his fingers, rough from years of playing volleyball. “every part of you is amazing,” he says, entrance with how your cunt sucks his fingers in. he fucks you with his hand, tongue latching onto your clit to lap everything it has to offer. at this point, you can feel your mind breaking. every part of your body is vibrating, fingers scratching at his buzzed head.

“baby! baby, i’m gonna—fuck,” you cry, legs giving out from underneath you. you chant his name when you cum, eyes rolling to the back of your head the entire time.

the lower half of tanaka’s face is drenched, licking up his fingers as if he just had a good meal. “i think that dress looks beautiful on you,” he says, a smug grin on his face. he helps you on to your shaky feet only to bend you over the counter and hike your dress up.

“ryuu, too much!” you whine, hearing him unbuckle his belt. tanaka reaches over, grabbing you by the chin and forcing you to look at your reflection in the mirror.

“need to show you how perfect you are, babe,” he says, sinking into you without any prep. your walls flutter around his long cock. “never seen a girl look so pretty until i’ve seen you cum.”

©sugawarassoulmate 2021 all rights reserved - please do not repost/translate my work on other platforms!

cw incest

"what's this 'bout a boy?"

your pervy uncle sukuna has you bent over his knee like you're about to be spanked. but rather than hit the flesh of your ass with his calloused hands, he's plunging two fingers meanly into your cunt like you deserve a punishment :(

it's not your fault! you want to say that, to beg for him to go easy on you but every time you open your pretty lips to speak all that comes out is desperate moans and pleads for more. he curls his fingers inside of you every now and then, makes you see stars just to pull that pleasure from you!

you can't be too loud, though, your parents are only in the other room. uncle sukuna is meant to be here for a family dinner, one in which he'll exchange weird jabs with your father and make your mother turn her nose up all the while he's digging nails into your thigh under the table. you haven't seen him in months now, not since the last time he visited and you ended face-down-ass-up on your pretty comforter taking his cock so deep you forgot your own name.

as if you could settle for boys your age after a taste of him.

sukuna stops his movements and, with his free hand, forces your chin up to look at him the best you can from where you're bent over his knee. "fuckin' answer me. who's the boy?"

"no one!"

"lying brat, you want me to make you cry again?"

uncle sukuna had overheard an exchange between you and your mother when he first showed up. you were telling him about a boy from your college classes that had asked you out: sweet, well mannered, probably a bore in the bedroom. your mother encouraged it, because of course she thinks you're rather lonely. after all, you've never brought a man home! she just doesn't know it's because your uncle would find a way to make his murder as cruel as possible... :(

"'m not even interested in him," you have to breathe through your mouth, squeezing around sukunas fingers which are still stalled inside of you. "he asked me out. i said no. i can't... i can't be with other guys now that i have you."

there's silence. you know your uncle doesn't like that sappy shit. he's the type to fuck you rough and mean and leave you shaking just to throw a teasing 'love you' over his shoulder as he's leaving, just to watch your eyes widen as you stand between your oblivious parents. but you also know that he's possessive. that he'll do anything he can to stake his claim on you, though because of the secrecy of your relationship that usually means inhibiting your ability to sit down without wincing for a week.

"what, you think i'm your boyfriend or something?" his fingers start up again, making your pussy squelch as he thrusts them into you at a newer, meaner pace. "got some news for you about our relationship, brat."

"no i know," you gasp as he curls his fingers up again. you're so close, so fucking close it hurts. you're digging your nails into his leg though he doesn't seem to mind at all. "still. don't want anyone else... fuuuuck, uncle sukuna, right there, please.."

you think he laughs. or maybe moans as you definitely break skin with how hard you're digging into him. he speeds up, starts rubbing your needy little clit in fast circles until you're trying to keep quiet when your orgasm crashes over you.

"look at you, talking bout boys when you can't even last with two of my fingers inside this little cunt. fucking pathetic."

he pulls his fingers out just to sharply pinch your clit before moving you to better sit on his strong lap. "i'll drive you to classes tomorrow."

you're a little too stupid from your orgasm to get his point. "what?"

"no one knows i'm your uncle. hell, you hardly knew me yourself til i started showing up. i'll drive you, walk you in, show everyone you're spoken for."

"am i spoken for?"

"tch. don't play fuckin' dumb."

see the THING IS I don't feel like I ever worked hard enough to have "earned" the burnout, which is. probably how we got here.

𝑯𝑶𝑾 𝑻𝑯𝑬𝒀 𝑴𝑨𝑲𝑬 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑺𝑸𝑼𝑰𝑹𝑻

— Eren Jaeger, Armin Arlert, Jean Kirschtein, Reiner Braun, Levi Ackerman x f!reader

cw. squirting, full nelson, fingering, mirror sex, cunnilingus, doggy, nipple playing, daddy kink, mating press — rbs are appreciated — m.list

EREN JAEGER

“My cock is so good you’re going to make a mess” Eren whispers in your ear, your knees close to your cheeks as he hammers inside you, his cock so deep he kisses your cervix with every thrust of his hips.

Your cunt drips as you leap into his lap, your back attached to his hard chest as Eren holds you firmly by the hips filling you with every thrust, “play with your pretty clit” he gasps as he watches his cock disappear between your slick folds.

You quickly circle your nub, moaning his name as the release approaches. You feel it different, wetter and stronger than previous orgasms.

Your body relaxes and you slump on his chest, he smirks and begins to fuck you harder, your fingers are replaced by his that move rougher and faster, “come for me, angel” he says through clenched teeth as his cum begins to drip onto his shaft, “give it all to me, come on”.

You gush hard and his cock is forced out of your slick slit, “that’s it” Eren moans grabbing his cock and beginning to rub the head on your clit hitting it with light strokes to make you squirt some more as your cunt clenches around nothing and you babble nonsensically, “so good you’ve gone dumb” he teases, laying a kiss on top of your head.

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😊

— cease

kinktober masterlist

full hq masterlist

kinktober oct 1 : orgasm denial

tooru oikawa x f!reader

description: you were the best at pissing off tooru oikawa. he’s had enough.

genre: smut, angry sex, university au, enemies to lovers if you squint

warnings: orgasm denial, begging, naked girl & fully clothed man, you being a brat (but like, only for a minute)

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