koreluvsspring - Tumblr blog

koreluvsspring · 3 days ago

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red dot - m.

⤷ summary: “Lately, someone's been driving me crazy...”

˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡˚ word count: 20.4k ˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡˚ pairing: camboy!izuku midoriya | fem!reader ˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡˚genre: crack, smut, fluff if you squint ˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡˚ rating: 18+ minors dni ♡ ˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡˚warnings: mentions of drug and alcohol use ♡ ˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡˚kinks: porn, toys, olfactophilia, panty fetish, angry/make-up sex, overstimulation, pet play (?), switch!izu + switch!reader ˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡˚author’s note: This is a COLLEGE AU, meaning all characters are aged up to 18+ consenting adults—more specifically, all characters are in their 20s. me 🤝🏽 making izuku the 6'5 beefcake he's meant to be. black coded reader but skin color and race isn't specified, so anyone can be reader. i actually felt shame, real shame, while writing this. this is probably trash. i'm so sorry. enjoy ♡

The thing about secrets is that they always come to light no matter how hard you try to keep them. And Izuku Midoriya had one of the biggest secrets of all.

Keeping said secret had been quite hard—harder than he originally anticipated. He’s acknowledged that he’s only been able to keep it out of sheer luck. Izuku was rather shit at keeping secrets, especially his own. He was never a good liar. You could almost always see right through him. Though, he didn’t expect he had to lie so much to keep this particular secret. It just so happened that people would ask him questions he couldn’t give the answers to.

Questions like “Why are you so tired today?” and “Hey why can’t I come over tonight?” or the dreaded “Why is this door always locked?”

It’s not like he could just say, “I’m tired because I stayed up late last night hosting a two-hour live stream where I touch myself for strangers on the internet, and you can’t come over because I have to film again tonight! Oh, and that room is where I film and keep all my perverted toys and costumes, so unless you want to see that part of my life, you should probably stay out!”

Right?

No matter how many people try to normalize sex work and sex workers, there will always be people ready to scrutinize and vilify those who are openly a part of the scene, and the last thing Izuku needed was another thing people could deride him for. Especially when he only did it to keep lights on. It was a job just like any other job, and it was the only job he could do given the circumstances.

You see, college is expensive.

College is expensive and some people aren't blessed with wealthy parents who can pay their way through debt free. College is expensive, and some people aren't smart or talented enough to get scholarships to lighten the load. And, when those certain people can't get a job to save their life, and the bills keep piling up, and they get a letter from their university telling them to either “Pay up or pack up!”, what the hell are they supposed to do?

Well, they can do one of two things: pray for a miracle, or do porn.

As it turns out, God doesn’t just hand out miracles.

So, really, there’s only one.

It is because of that sad realization that Izuku found himself on www.camcity.com. For research purposes, of course. He’d never watched cam videos before and it was one of the first websites that came up when he searched for places to stream. It was less sketchy compared to the other sites he came across and had a reliable reputation from what he could tell. He decided he should watch a few livestreams, just to see what he was getting himself into.

He clicked on the first stream he saw. A girl around his age—maybe a bit older—with long black hair and golden brown eyes was lying on her back in a bed. It was clear she had done this before, or at least she had the confidence of someone who had. She was charismatic in how she talked to all five hundred of her watchers, himself included. She teased her audience with her promiscuous smile and flirtatious giggles. He could see why she was popular: she was a very pretty girl.

It wasn’t long before she started stripping her clothes. The blush that spread across Izuku’s face was compulsory. It’s not like he hadn’t watched porn before, he has. But that was different. He could easily watch cheesy invented scenarios between pornstars and questionable hentai just to get off but this was different. The video on his screen wasn’t pre-recorded or animated. It was live and very much real.

There was a sense of shame he felt while watching her. It felt like he wasn’t supposed to be, even though she was allowing him and everyone else to look. In a way, it felt intimate. The girl stripped herself naked, making sure the camera got a good view of her body. Suddenly, there was a wave of notifications ringing as hundreds of watchers started sending money.

Ten dollars. Twenty dollars. Fifty dollars. One hundred dollars.

That’s nearly two hundred dollars for merely taking her clothes off! Never underestimate the desperation of horny people on the internet.

If that wasn’t enough to convince him to start, the money she made once she actually started to do what the people paid for definitely did.

And thus, user shyboi_3358 was born. A bit bland and predictable, but it got the point across.

It’s not like he planned for it to happen, it just did. He only intended to stream once or twice to get the money he needed and hold out for another month until he found a job.

That was the idea, at least, until he streamed for the first time and made over eight hundred dollars in less than an hour.

He didn’t have to do much of anything either. He didn’t have much of a setup back then, only his laptop and a cheap desk lamp. What little modesty he had left kept him from showing his face. The camera view only captured from his neck down.

It was nerve-wracking at first. He didn’t know where to start. Part of him wanted to end the stream the moment it began. To close his laptop and try his luck at another round of job hunting. But then, a small, high-pitched ding halted his cursor from pressing the red “End Stream” button. He had a watcher.

l0st_boy1: hey handsome ;)

Oh shit.

What was he supposed to do? Again, three new dings rang. His heart jumped, skipping every other beat. He swallowed the lump growing in his throat. He could feel heat rising to his face from embarrassment. It was ridiculous, considering no one knew it was him. To them, he was just a disembodied torso.

l0st_boy1: wow. your neck just turned really red. brattycunt: are you blushing? how cute.

It was really hot now. He shifted in his chair, still unsure of what to say.

user167809: are you hot? brattycunt: why don’t you take your shirt off. user167809: ^ k1nkyk1tty:^^!! l0st_boy1: ^^^

His shirt? They wanted him to take off his shirt. That made sense, right? Of course he should take off his shirt! Why didn’t he think of that before? Taking his watcher’s advice, Izuku carefully took off his white t-shirt, so as to not accidentally show his face. His freckled body was on full display. The chill of the room hit the cool metal of the piercing in his erect nipple, sending a slight chill down his spine.

l0st_boy1: 😳 user167809: 😍😍 brattycunt:💦 k1nkyk1tty: 🤤

A flood of reaction emojis and hearts flooded the chat. Another round of dings—he now had 26 watchers.

miami_milf: what a sexy bod~! sl0bondeeznutz: holy fuck. newgirl_2000: is it weird that im already turned on? brattycunt: newgirl_2000 totally not weird!

It was... strange. The feeling he felt while reading the comments of his watchers. All of them were strange, but oddly encouraging. In their shameless sexual admiration for him, he found a taste of confidence. It was a new experience. Izuku wasn’t used to girls, or anyone for that matter, finding him attractive. He wasn't what most people would call desirable. (This is total bullshit by the way. Izuku is too oblivious to notice the way people look at him.)

To have these people fawning over him, even if it was shallow and dripping with undeniable horniness and desperation, it was still validating. That validation was all it took to ignite his motivation. It wasn’t long until he found himself slowly slipping into the perversion. His watchers engaged with him, giving them hints, suggestions, and even flat-out instructions of what they wanted him to do—what they wanted to see.

After a while, it didn't even feel like anyone was watching. In the midst of taking direction from his thirty or so watchers, his natural instincts took over. He was rubbing himself over his joggers. Of course it was awkward at first, but after a few moments, it started to feel good. Like, really good.

He felt himself harden in his hand. Stroking himself through the dense fabric, he closed his eyes and thought of all the things that got him excited.

‘Boobs, big butts, long legs, plump lips—do I have an exam tomorrow? No, what the fuck. Focus. Again. Boobs, big butts, long legs, curly hair, soft stomachs—Oh god.’

His hand dove under his boxers, and began pumping his dick to the made-up images of pretty girls and the occasional boy. His breaths turned shallow as his hand slid faster on his cock.

A new sound rang from his computer speakers, the sound of coins rattling in a piggy bank. Izuku opened his eyes, staring at the screen. A waterfall of tips came flooding in. Five dollars, twenty dollars, forty dollars! They were paying him.

sl0ppy2nds tipped shyboi_3358 $10.00! miami_milf tipped shyboi_3358 $50.00!newgirl_2000 tipped shyboi_3358 $50.00!

The reactions and tips from his watchers boosted his stream. In a matter of seconds, his audience jumped from forty to two hundred and thirteen watchers. Comments and notifications flew across the screen, each one of high praise. They told him how sexy they thought he was, how pretty his dick was, how much they wanted to fuck him—all of them.

A man’s ego isn’t hard to please. Izuku adjusted quite well to the attention, closing his eyes once more and touching himself on camera. He would tease and edge himself, something he usually did in his own private time. He never liked finishing early. If he was going to emulate the excitement and pleasure of sex, he was going to make damned sure he enjoyed it.

He wasn't shy about being vocal either, that really reeled the watchers in. His heavy breaths and whiney moans, the slip of the tongue that had him curse in pleasure, they ate it up. Tip after tip after tip rolled in, and he sat there in his chair, bringing himself to his end.

‘Boobs, big butts, plump lips, long legs, pretty eyes—fuck!’

He was a hot, sweating mess by the time he came all over his hands and joggers. He slouched in his blissful state, hanging on to that flittering sensation. His chest heaved with heavy breaths, having fucked himself out pretty good even in his simple execution. He kept his eyes close for a minute, before realizing that he wasn't necessarily finished.

His eyes shot open to look at the stream. Still, hundreds of notifications bombarded his screen. Comments flew by too fast for him to read, tips piled up—that damned piggy bank sound glitched repeatedly! And what was once two hundred and thirteen watchers turned into five hundred and sixty-six. Over five hundred people had seen him jack off in his room.

Over five hundred.

All of them watched him masturbate, and they enjoyed it. Better than enjoying it, they paid him for it.

They paid him for it.

THEY PAID HIM FOR IT!

After he ended the stream on a rather awkward note, his analytics flashed across the screen. He streamed for forty-three minutes. He had five hundred and sixty-six watchers. He gained two hundred and ninety-eight followers. And he made eight hundred and eighty-seven dollars in tips.

...

$878 IN TIPS?!!?

He nearly fell out of his chair after seeing the three-digit number blaring on his screen. He didn’t, though. He sat there, frozen in shock, with his dick still hanging out of his pants. He made half a month's worth of pay in forty-three minutes. He imagined the money he would've made if he lasted an hour or even two.

That night, he crawled into bed and fell quickly to sleep. When he awoke, he half expected it to have been a dream. But when he checked his phone and saw he had a notification from his bank saying that $792.53 (the amount of his earnings after taxes and fees) had been directly deposited into his account, he knew it was all true. It was arguably the best feeling he’d felt in his twenty-one years of living, not just because of the money.

He’d never admit it out loud, but he liked it. There was no post-nut clarity when the cameras turned off. There was no shame or regret, only satisfaction, and pure adrenaline. It was something about being watched and praised on the internet. Knowing that hundreds of people desired and lusted for him excited him. The attention was addicting. The money was a bonus. He experienced all the perks of the industry without any of the repercussions. And it felt pretty damn good.

Maybe he could have gotten a job had he left that night and asked the corner store one last time, “Are you sure you don’t need any help?”. Perhaps he could have been sitting behind a counter working eight-hour night shifts for minimum wage—working a “good,” “honest” job. One that he didn’t have to hide from his friends and family.

But why the fuck would he do that when he was making more money in forty minutes than he’s ever made in a day?

That, dear reader, is how Izuku Midoriya became one of the internet’s most famous camboys in the span of eight months.

It is imperative to know this because it is the cause of a series of queer and absurd events that start with a lie and end with a sexually intense but otherwise healthy relationship.

What is the lie, you ask? The only lie someone like Izuku can come up with when people ask, “Where do you work?”

“I’m a freelancer,” Izuku said tightly.

He sat in the dining hall with his friends during a mutual free period. They all circled around a large table in the center of the cafeteria directly under a domelike skylight. Today was sunny like most days were in early September. Whenever Izuku and his friends' schedules synched, they'd gather at this exact round table to chat and eat. Only today, he regrets participating in this untraditional tradition.

“A freelancer?” Shoto, one of Izuku’s best friends asked. Remember earlier when we talked about how expensive college is and how some people don’t have wealthy parents who could pay their way through?

Yeah, well, Shoto wasn’t one of those people. His parents were egregiously rich and famous. As nice as he was, Shoto was a bit dense. While Izuku was at least ninety percent sure Shoto would never shame him for being a camboy, he knew he wouldn’t understand. He’d most likely offer to pay for his tuition and housing until he could find a “real” job, and Izuku wasn’t one to take handouts. It made him feel helpless, and he hated feeling helpless. That and his pride wouldn’t allow him to owe anybody anything. He could take care of himself.

Also, Shoto had a big fucking mouth. Even if he wanted to tell him, he wouldn’t, because half the campus would know by the end of the day.

Izuku knows he doesn’t mean to be a blabbermouth, but Shoto was never one to pick up social cues. He’d probably let it slip in the most unnecessary moments. It’d go something like this:

Izuku is hanging out with his friends at Bakugou’s place. Everyone is having fun, playing games, drinking, talking—you know, the usual get-together. Maybe it was late and he had an exam to study for.

“Guys, I’m gonna leave early,” he’d say.

“Oh, why? It's so early,” Ochako, another good friend, would ask. And before Izuku could open his mouth to explain he simply wanted to study and go to bed early for his exam in the AM, Shoto would chime in and say, “Oh, do you have to stream tonight?” completely unprovoked.

That itself isn’t bad. People usually don’t hear the word stream and automatically think of cam videos. They think of gamers or podcasts. Now, Izuku could save himself.

“I didn’t know you stream! What game are you going to play, I’ll come with you,” Denki would offer.

“Video games?” Again, Shoto would interrupt before Izuku could tell him to shut the fuck up. “I thought you said you stream videos of yourself on that cam site. Did I not understand what you meant when you told me you make cam videos of yourself?”

To Shoto, it was no big deal. He wouldn’t catch on that what he said was uncalled for or that their other friends wouldn’t be as indifferent as he was. Nor would he realize he basically opened the door for Izuku’s social torment.

So now you understand why whenever someone asked, “Hey, where do you work?” he’d simply say—

“Aren’t freelancers just tech hipsters who can't hold a job? That’s why they pick up any small project they find on the internet?” Leave it to Bakugou to find something negative to comment on.

“It’s not that simple, Bakugou. Freelancers make a lot of money for doing many different things.” Mina said, taking a french fry off of his plate, much to his detest. “My cousin is a freelance writer and she's made thousands of dollars a month writing articles for different companies and websites. She doesn’t even have to leave her house!”

“I wish I could work from home,” Denki sighed. “My internship is killing me, you know. Everyone just throws their work on me and I have to do it if I ever want a job in the future.”

“Sure it sounds nice but, at the end of the day, it’s still work. Right, Deku?” Said Ochako.

Izuku simply nodded as he took a long sip from his soda, unsure of what to say.

“Speaking of work,” Denki perked up. “This project for Professor Aizawa’s class is kicking my ass! Do you think we can have a study sesh tonight?”

“Stop complaining and do your own project, jackass! You only want to get together because you know Momo and Ochako will end up doing all the work for you,” Bakugou chided.

“That’s a serious accusation Kaachan!” Denki gasps dramatically. “Do you really think so low of me?”

“What did I say about calling me that!”

The rest of the group ignored their bickering and continued eating their lunch. “I wouldn’t mind a group study tonight,” said Momo.

“Yeah, me too! I always focus better when I work with you guys,” said Mina, though Izuku doubted that was true.

He enjoyed studying with his friends. It was always fun. That was the problem, though. Studying with them was never really ‘studying.’ It may start out as studying, but twenty minutes later, it turns into a pizza break, which then turns into a smoke break, which then turns into a kickback where all unfinished homework is discarded on the floor getting stepped on by crossfaded twenty-year-olds playing Just Dance 3.

Study group with his friends usually ended with Izuku pulling an all-nighter doing the homework he should have done at said study group. However, today was a Friday, and given that he had completed all his homework for the week to ensure free time this weekend to stream, a little get-together with his friends tonight didn't sound bad.

“I don’t mind meeting up tonight,” he said, receiving high approval from Mina and Momo.

“I’ll go if Deku goes!” Ochako chimed in.

Soon everyone, even Bakugou, agreed to meet at Mina and Jirou’s apartment later that day for a good old-fashioned study sesh. Once they finished lunch, they cleared their table and left to go to their respective classes.

The evening came sooner than expected. One minute, Izuku was in an ethics lecture, the next, he was standing in front of Mina and Jirou’s door. He could hear the bass from Jirou’s speakers the second he got off the elevator to their floor. The music vibrated the floor beneath his feet. He checked the watch wrapped tightly on his wrist. He was only thirty minutes late. Had they already given up studying?

He pounded on the door four times before someone finally opened it.

“Deku, where the hell've you been, Loco?” Denki slurred as he pulled Izuku into the apartment by his shoulder strap.

The entire flat smelled of weed mixed with Mina’s perfume used to cover the smell. Denki practically dragged Izuku into the living room, where Jirou, Bakugou, and Tokoyami played Rock Band 2 while Momo, Tsu, and Ochako watched on the couch. Sitting at the table, Mineta, Sero, and Kirishima were playing what seemed to be a hilarious game of Cards Against Humanity.

“You need to catch up,” Denki said while guiding him to the kitchen. “Let’s get you something to drink!”

Izuku followed Denki to the kitchen and saw Shoto standing by the counter in front of Mina, who sat on top of it. “So you’re telling me you don’t like Fireball?” She asked him.

“Not really, no,” Shoto answered.

“Guys look who showed up!” Denki announced, catching their attention.

They both turned to Izuku and gave him friendly smiles. Mina jumped off the counter and gave Izuku a hug.

“You came just in time,” she says. “(y/n) is making a second batch of her special drinks!”

Izuku furrowed his brow. “Who’s (y/n)?”

His question was soon answered when the door to the fridge he hadn’t realized was open closed, revealing the girl who hid behind it. She held three jugs of juice in her arms and rushed to set them on the counter next to a blender and two bottles of tequila and rum.

“That’s, (y/n),” said Mina.

“Shoto can you put the ice in the blender for me?” She asked while opening the jugs of fruit-flavored juice. Mina grabbed Izuku’s hand and dragged him over to her.

"Mina, do you have any tajín?”

“I think Jirou keeps it in the cabinet above the microwave, but wait,” Mina grabbed her by the hand and pulled her close.

“(y/n), this is Deku. He’s a graphic design major like Bakugou.”

(y/n) eyed him closely enough to make him feel a bit nervous. “Deku?” She echoed.

“It’s the nickname Kaachan—I mean, Bakugou gave me when we were kids,” he explains.

“Deku and Kaachan, huh? That’s adorable,” she smirked. “What’s your real name?”

“Izuku. Izuku Midoriya," he introduced himself, suddenly feeling shy.

Her eyes trailed up and down his body. Then, she gave him a smile that he knew he would never forget. It was the kind of smile he'd only seen in romantic comedies where the girl meets the guy and she smiles at him for the first time but not only is it—she—beautiful, but also full of possibilities. It was mysterious, coy, sexy, warm, playful, and just...perfect.

“It’s nice to meet you, Izuku.” She walked away, back towards Shoto and the blender leaving him with an incredibly warm face.

"Where did she come from?" He asked Mina.

"Jirou's Music History class," she explained. "She's come over lots of times to hang out, she's really cool. Everyone else has met her at least once before already, but I guess this is your first time, huh?"

Izuku looked surprised. "Really? Everyone?"

"Yeah, dude. If you weren't so busy freelancing or whatever it is you do you'd have met her a long time ago," she teased, clocking his heat-stricken cheeks as he watched her mix a dangerous amount of tequila with a concoction of juice. She and Shoto were talking and she said something that made him laugh—something that not everyone could do. Shoto playfully pushed her aside and tried covering the blender before she could throw more liquor inside.

It wasn’t necessarily her looks that drew his attention, though the more he looked at her the lighter he felt, as if her energy filled the room and him as well. She was intoxicating all on her own. Without realizing it, he was smiling too. Mina saw it too and smirked in her own mischievous way.

"Hey, (y/n)!" She called out to her, drawing both her and Izuku's attention. "Why don't you give Izuku the first sip?"

Her eyes met his and he instinctively gave her an awkward smile. She grinned as she poured the poorly blended orangey slush into a glass cup rimmed with sugar and tajín.

"Of course," she said as she garnished the cup with a slice of lime.

Eagerly she trotted around the counter back to him and Mina. He reached out to take the glass from her hand but she pulled it away.

"Ah ah ah," she shook her head. "You have to christen your tongue before you drink."

With a snap of her fingers, Denki retrieved a shot glass full of tequila and handed it to Izuku. He watched as Denki threw three generous dashes of Tabasco sauce into the glass.

"There you go," (y/n) urged.

"Hot sauce?" Izuku's nose twitched up and (y/n) laughed.

"Yes! You have to endure a little pain before you get the reward, that's how it works."

Izuku raised a curious brow. "That's how your special drink works?"

"Well, yes, but also life," she said with a devilish glint behind her eyes. "Don't be a pussy, it will only burn for a second."

Izuku scoffed in shock, amused by her brazenness.

"Just do it, Deku. Not only will it taste good it will fuck you up quick, trust." Denki chimed in.

Noting how everyone around him was so not sober, he knew he wasn't lying. So, with a deep breath, Izuku prepared himself before throwing back the spiced shot, his nose scrunching up as soon as the strange mixture burnt his tongue. His surrounding friends cheered and patted him on the back for his achievement as he swallowed. (y/n) cheered as well, grinning brightly up at him before taking the shot glass from his hand and replacing it with his supposed reward.

"Way to go champ!" Mina chuckled.

"It's all up from here," said (y/n) as she watched him sip her icy brew. Surprise, surprise, it did not disappoint.

It was strong yet sweet and went down smooth like juice, which was undoubtedly concerning considering he saw just how much liquor was mixed into it. But the salty-sweet rim mixed well with the spiced tequila and rum. Only one thought crossed his mind when his eyes drifted and met hers as he let it cool his tongue and throat from the first offensive drink, and it was that this drink and that girl were going to be a big problem.

Just as Denki had promised, the drink did not disappoint. Mina dragged him back to the living room and everyone else in the kitchen followed. Rock Band had been forgotten and turned into a Mario Kart tournament. Ochako, Jirou, Mineta, and Tokoyami raced each other while others watched. At the table, Sero and Kirishima packed a bong.

Mina sat by Kirishima and Izuku took up space next to her across from Sero, only to be followed by Shoto, Denki, and (y/n), who liberally took a seat right next to him. Izuku stiffened and straightened his posture in his seat as she sat down. The sudden motion sent a rush of blood and digested alcohol straight to his head.

He tried to pretend like it didn't phase him. Like he couldn't feel her knees brush against his every ten seconds or smell her pungent rose body oil. As if he could ignore the dimple on her cheek that sunk when she laughed at one of Sero's jokes or the way her glossed lips puckered around the bong when she took a deep and daring hit. He had already been staring too long before he made the deliberate decision to look away from her and her lips.

"Holy shit, this stuff is smooth Kiri," she praised as smoke blew past her parted lips.

"Funky monkey," Kirishima grinned.

Izuku furrowed his brows. "What?"

"That's what it's called. Funky Monkey. I got it from this kid who sells in my dorm. He said this would be the best for a party," he explained.

"Isn't this supposed to be a study session," Izuku smirked, taking the bong.

"Oh, come on you know better than that," Sero chuckled.

Izuku took a deep hit, mostly because he desperately wanted to feel high, but also because he knew he was a better socialite when he was high. He was a better flirt too.

(y/n) was right, funky monkey was surprisingly smooth, especially with the cubes of ice stuffed in the bong to ease the burn. He didn't even cough the first few times. For a split second, he doubted the strain's ability to get him high, but his doubts were stillborn by the fourth rotation. Between the drink and the funky monkey, Izuku was perfectly crossed.

It was fun. With the comedic banter at the table and the intensifying Mario Kart tournament, the not-so-studious study session turned into a perfect kickback. It was moments like this that Izuku really appreciated his friends. Mina and Kirishima had long since left the table to dance on the floor. Same with Denki and Jirou, who had placed third in the tournament. Shoto decided to try his hand at Mario Kart and went in for a round with Bakugou, Sero, and Momo.

Everyone else was either watching the tournament, dancing or having private side conversations, leaving Izuku alone at the table with her. The new girl. (y/n).

It was awkward at first. Izuku didn't know what to say, but he knew that he needed to say something. He wanted to say something. He probably thought up a hundred lines and scenarios he could use but each one tested terribly in his imagination. He snuck a look at her from the corner of his eye. She was watching the tournament and idly swaying to the music, lip-syncing the lyrics as she periodically took hits from a jay Shoto helped her roll.

The apartment had low lighting, relying on a single lamp tucked away in the corner and a string of LED strip lights set to purple because god forbid college students use fluorescent overhead lighting. Under the cool purple lighting, however, she looked intangible.

Sure, he was absolutely drunk and high beyond belief but that didn't negate how he felt. He was attracted to her the moment he first set eyes on her. Her (e/c) eyes were decorated with long lashes and dark eyeliner, which only made them that much more alluring. Her hair was full and straightened into voluminous (h/c) tresses that framed her face. Her lips were painted with brown lip liner and a clear, glitter lip gloss that sparkled under the right light. Small, chunky gold hoops adorned her ears, and a matching collection of tiered, dainty, gold necklaces trailed down, down, down her chest, stopping just before the dip of her breasts.

God, those breasts.

They were perfect. Perfectly round and perfectly cupped and lifted by the lacey bra peeking through her shirt. One glance and he's already fantasizing about her like some shameless pervert. But what is a person who willingly and exuberantly touches himself online called if not a shameless pervert?

He couldn't help it. (y/n) was his type through and through. Really the only recurring thought that popped in his head when he looked at her was—

"Pretty."

(y/n)'s head twirled around, and he was met with those alluring (e/c) eyes.

Fuck. Had he said that out loud?

"What?" She asked.

He definitely said it out loud.

"Y-Your nails," Izuku thought quickly. "They're pretty."

The center of her forehead wrinkled, a small smile working its way across her lips. She looked down at her hands and angled her nails as if she'd forgotten what they looked like. They were long and round in shape like an almond with a pale pink base and painted white tips.

"Wow, thanks," she said. "Didn't think they were so eye-catching."

Everything about her was eye-catching, but he made sure to keep that thought to himself.

"So graphic design, huh?" She asked. "What made you want to do that?"

It was as easy as that. The next thing he knew, they were talking as if they were old childhood friends. She was easy to talk to and he understood how she managed to click so well with everyone else. To his surprise, they had a lot in common. So much in common that it made him start to question his baser beliefs on destiny and soulmates. He wasn't as much of a pessimist when it came to romance, but he had his doubts about true love and the ever-so sought-after "one", but the hours they spent talking at the table, on the couch, in the kitchen, and now in Mina's room had him rethinking his philosophy.

Out of all the things he learned about her and decided he already adored, she made it at the top of his list once their shared common obsession with comics came to light. It started with a niche joke he'd made about Bakugou in reference to an issue of All Might. He didn't expect her to catch it or understand it. It was more for himself anyway, but to his surprise, she caught it, understood it, and laughed at it as if it were the funniest joke he'd ever told.

"You know All Might?"

“Are you kidding? I love All Might! I used to read those comics all the time as a kid!”

As if she couldn't check any more boxes in the manic pixie dream girl category, she gave him a taste of fantasy. The kickback had mellowed. Muffled chatter and Jirou's playlist leaked into Mina's bedroom, but inside it was just him and (y/n). They sat on a fuzzy rug, sharing hits from a borrowed pipe.

In Mina's room, the lights were dark and dim. Same as the living room, the only lighting provided were blue strip lights and a pink mood lamp. Izuku sat across from her, his long legs stretched out perpendicular to hers. Her legs were crossed, bouncing occasionally to the Weeknd song vibrating the floor with its bass.

She'd finished a tangent about her shitty professor when the mood suddenly shifted. The low airflow kept a cloud of smoke floating around their heads. Izuku's mouth was dry and he tried to hide his need for water by swallowing his saliva and licking his dry lips. (y/n) noticed this, even through her relaxed eyelids and the haze of the room. She liked watching him. She had been watching him the whole night. He was too occupied in his own thoughts to notice.

(y/n) had her eyes on him from the moment he walked into the kitchen. As far as she knew, everyone that was meant to be there was already there. So when the unfamiliar tall, lean, curly-haired boy walked in, she couldn't help her curiosity.

In the short few hours she'd gotten to know him she knew he was twenty-one, a graphic design major with dreams of becoming a graphic novelist, a little anxious but mostly confident in his own way, cute, a lightweight, and undeniably her type.

"What about you?" She asked. "Any professors you hate?"

"No, not really," he confessed. "Even the professors who are hard asses I appreciate. I know their main goal is to make us better and prepare us for the real world. Tough love is necessary sometimes."

"Tough love? Is that what you call it?" She giggled. "I call it sadism."

"Not a masochist then?" He joked.

"Clearly not as much as you are."

Izuku shrugged. "You need a little pain before you get a reward, right?" He quoted. "Pain and pleasure are just two sides of the same coin."

"Familiar with that coin are you?"

The corner of Izuku's lip twitched into a smirk. "Are we still talking about school?

(y/n)'s lips curled with a similar slyness. "I don't know. Are we?"

He stayed silent, unsure of what to say next as he watched her take another hit from the pipe, blowing smoke past her lips. Echos of The Weeknd's muffled lyrics filled the silence, mirroring his thoughts and intentions. He could feel himself grow and twitch in his sweatpants. He shifted in his seat and tugged on the fabric of his pants to hide his shame, but even half-hard it was impossible not to notice.

Her eyes trailed from his face, down his neck, decorated with a silver chain, down his black t-shirt that would tighten around his biceps when he flexed or stretched, to his waistline that was slim and exposed, revealing the elastic of his boxers that peaked above the hem of his sweatpants where his twitching cock was just begging to be touched.

And he was begging. He didn't have to say it aloud. She could see it in his reddened eyes that were dilated into black holes and in the way he leaned back against the bed frame; his open lap was like an invitation.

He could feel her eyes scanning him. His heartbeat quickened, speeding up with every second. An unsung song lulled in the air. They were both waiting to see who would sing it first.

(y/n) licked her lips. From where he sat, she was cool and collected. He on the other hand was an anxious mess. He felt like a deer caught in the sights of a preying tigress, just waiting—hoping for her to pounce.

"Fuck." she muttered, taking a quick puff from the pipe before setting it down on the ground and crawling over to him.

His breath got trapped in his lungs as her legs straddled his sides, all her weight sat on top of his lap. Her hands flung to the nape of his neck and into his curls, pulling him close. Her lips attacked his with little to no care. His large hands encapsulated her waist, caressing and groping at her back, ass, and thighs.

He could taste the alcohol and smoke on her tongue as they swirled together. The dryness of their mouths was of no concern. The feeling of her mouth, the softness of her lips, and the dance of their tongues were enough to have his dick rock hard and bouncing. She could feel his want between her legs. She moved her hips against him as they made out, arching her back and pressing into him so her throbbing clit could experience some friction.

Their heavy petting and soft moans floated around the room along with the smoke. Izuku cursed against her lips, his deep throaty moans growing more desperate by the second. He was practically clawing at her skin and clothes. He wanted them gone. He wanted her naked and bare, rutting against him with those perfect, perfect, perfect boobs bouncing in his face.

His rough, calloused hand snaked up her shirt, feeling her soft, warm skin until it reached her bra-covered breast. He took her left breast and squeezed, massaging her supple mound while his other hand gripped her asscheek. She was so soft, he thought. She was hot to the touch. She was practically burning for him. He loved the feel of her. Not too taught and muscular or too bony and fragile like she would break. Just soft. Just perfect. If he could enjoy her body this much just from touching her, he couldn't imagine what it would feel like to be inside her.

Her moans were music to his ears. Low and sparse as they were between her excited pants, he drank them in, hoping for the chance to hear more. His lips dove for her neck, kissing and sucking while his hands dove for the button of her shorts. She gasped once his hand dove into her pants and brushed against her black lace panties. He wasted no time feeling the crotch of her panties and the damp wetness of its delicate fabric. Oh? A cocky smirk stretched across his lips.

"You're so wet," he moaned in disbelief.

Two of his fingers rubbed against her clit through the fabric, drawing out more moans she tried to hide. He looked up at her, his fingers moving on their own. He just had to take her in. To see her mouth hung open, her eyes low and dilated, see her face change once his fingers pushed her panties to the side and slid effortlessly into her dripping cunt.

What a sight it was. Her grip on his hair tightened, pulling his head back. He grunted, the pain adding to his delight. His fingers moved slowly inside her, feeling her out. He took the time to stretch her out and find the spots that made her jolt and twitch. Her hips swirled and rocked against his hand. Her moans grew louder and more succinct. He smiled, his eyes glistening at the sight of her so lost in the feeling of his fingers inside her she couldn't focus on anything else.

Her eyes shut, and her face scrunched. Her brows crinkled at the center of her forehead, and she kept her bottom lip pinned between her teeth to hold her sounds of pleasure from escaping into the next room.

"You take my fingers so well," he said lowly in her ear. "God, you're perfect. So fucking perfect. I can't believe you."

He was getting so excited his pace quickened, accurately targeting the spot that made her tick. A moan she couldn't hold back escaped, loud enough it could have alerted their friends outside if the music wasn't already so loud. Her hand unwove itself from his locks and slapped against her mouth, muffling the others that she couldn't hold back on her own.

Izuku chuckled. "What?" He panted. "You don't want 'em to hear? I do. I want them to hear how much fun we're having. I wannem to know how you sound when you cum all over my fingers."

Her eyes opened, and peered down at him. The hand around her mouth wrapped around his thick neck. Izuku grunted and swallowed, his Adam's apple pressed against her palm that tightened around his throat. Their eyes locked, and hers were dark, piercing black pools.

"Is that what you think this is?" She asked, her voice velvety and smooth. The sound of it alone had his leaking cock jumping for attention.

"Let's get one thing straight." Her hand slipped into his boxers and pulled from it his impressive length. Pink and slick with pre-cum, her hand slid up and down his member with little resistance. His strangled moans tickled her ears and she smiled.

"If they hear anything at all, it would be you and your pathetic moans after I finally put an end to your incessant stares and silent pleading. Because I decided to put you out of your misery and play with your pretty pink dick that's been begging me to touch it from the minute you walked in the room."

The feel of her hands around his throat and his cock set him off. His fingers inside her began to move in pace with her hand around his length. He looked up at her, eyes wide and round, absolutely enamored in her presence like a lovesick puppy.

"They'd hear how pretty you sound for me," she sighed. "How happy you are to let me use you for my own pleasure. You're happy aren't you?"

Izuku nodded fervently. "Yes," he said breathlessly, his face scrunching and contorting into labored expressions of pleasure. His hips jumped and bucked, chasing her touch.

Satisfied, (y/n)'s grip on his neck relinquished. She caressed him, rubbing her manicured hands up and down his exposed skin, letting him feel the light scratch of her nails.

She smirked and pressed a kiss on his lips as she caressed his cheek and massaged the back of his head. He loved the way she played with his hair. Her gentle touch was just as exciting as when she was rough with him.

"You should be thanking me," she hummed against his skin.

The pace on his cock veered faster and faster, along with his accompanying efforts on her sopping cunt. Their heated breaths turned the air hot and moist. They could feel their skin growing sticky, and the smell of their respective slickness began to permeate the room. Izuku practically whined when her thumb started to rub his sensitive tip, circling around his hole and sending jolts of pleasure straight to his aching balls.

Izuku's free hand grasped at anything and everything, her waist, her ass, her chest, her back, her neck, her hair. He wanted to overstimulate his senses with as much of her as he could. Just as her thumb worked on his tip, his worked on her clit, rubbing against the throbbing bud as his fingers fucked into her g-spot. Lewd sounds and profanities fell from her lips that she tried to silence with a sloppy kiss.

"F-fuck! Thank you," he moaned in her mouth.

"Wanna cum w'me, pretty boy?" she panted.

He nodded. "Yeah...fuck yeah, I wanna cum with you. Let's cum...wanna feel you squeeze around my fingers...wanna cum all over your pretty little hands. Please, please, please..."

He begged so nicely it would be cruel to deny him the release he so desperately wanted. So, she brought her hand to her mouth and licked her hand from palm to the tips of her fingers, tasting the saltiness of his pre-cum. She gathered as much spit as she could with her cottonmouth and drooled on her hand and his reddened curve that anxiously slapped against his abdomen. Her warm saliva slicked his length, allowing her hand to glide freely. It was a race to the finish line, only there was no first place, only the promise of flying past the checkered pavement.

"M'so close...right there. Ouu, fuck," (y/n) cooed.

Her hand twisted and pumped better than his own. Meanwhile, Izuku's long digits could reach parts inside her she needed toys to touch. He could feel her walls tighten and contract around his two fingers. She could feel him pulsate in her hand like he was ready to explode. He never had a handjob as amazing as this. He never felt hands as soft and perfect as this. He never felt a cunt as wet and tight as this.

Then, he realized how truly thankful he was to her. He would've never made the first move tonight. He couldn't have pulled her onto his lap and taken her so confidently. He couldn't have wordlessly captured her lips in a heated kiss or shoved his tongue down her throat. He could have. But he wouldn't have, no matter how badly he wanted to. He wasn't the type. He was the type to titillate and beguile with his flirtations, go on a date or two, and—if he got lucky—then he would take her and bury his dick inside her with joyous abandon. But this was different. This was new.

All this—how amazing he felt in this moment, how consumed by awe and pleasure he was, how lucky he felt to have her on top of him stroking his dick and riding his fingers, all of it, was thanks to her. And he was more than grateful.

Izuku pressed kisses on her lips, cheek, and neck, keeping his moans low in her ear only for her to hear.

"Thank you so much. Thank you, thank you, thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyoutha—ah!!!"

White ribbons erupted from his leaking tip, coating her hands, and his stomach, dribbling down her wrist and the sides of his veiny length. His strangled grunts puffed against her ear, his grip on her thigh so tight she knew it'd bruise.

Her efforts weren't in vain; she came along with him just as promised. Clenching around his skilled digits, her puckered walls contracted and spasmed. Her pulsating clit pounded against his thumb and her heaven-scented slick coated his fingers. From her lips came the sweetest sound that would haunt him in the future.

They held each other close, her grip on his hair relinquished, and she held the side of his face, her thumb stroking his cheek and bottom lip. She kissed him then, gentler than before, with a tenderness that made his heart flutter. He kissed her back with just as much sweetness. Slow and languid did their lips interlock, kitten licking and pecking like true lovers.

When they parted, a small string of saliva connected their lips before snapping at the seams. If it were possible for his eyes to dilate even more, they did. He looked up at her, his big emerald eyes turned nearly obsidian. The grip on her thigh became a soft caress, and a wide grin flashed his straight white teeth.

Izuku's dimpled smile procured one of her own, a warm rush of blood heated her cheeks, and the once domineering force that pounced on him and milked his cock became a sheepish college girl, trapped on his lap. (y/n) lowered her head to hide her face in the crook of his neck. For some reason, she found it hard to look into his eyes or have him look at her.

He couldn't help but laugh. "What? You're shy now?"

"Shut up." Her voice was muffled by his shirt.

He chuckled, pulling her close, and boldly pressed a kiss on her shoulder. They stayed in that position for what felt like a while. Izuku rubbed circles on the small of her back. They were still coming down from their highs. It was a good couple of minutes before they realized the music from outside had stopped.

(y/n) shot up, her eyes wide. "What happened to the music?"

Izuku stared at her, his body frozen as his ears tried to tune into the next room. They stood still, afraid that any movement would somehow expose them to the world.

"Get up!" (y/n)'s hushed order had her jump from his lap and hurriedly button her shorts.

Izuku cursed and looked down at the mess on his lap. In a rushed attempt, he took his right sock and used it to wipe the cum from his dick and stomach. He quickly tucked himself into his pants before standing to his feet. He gave his left sock to (y/n) for her to clean her hands.

"Sorry," he blushed.

She didn't seem to care and cleaned herself as best she could. He stuffed the socks into each other before putting them in his pocket, sliding his Crocs back on just in time. A knock came from behind the door, and their heads snapped up to see Mina pop her head in.

"Hey guys, we're gonna call it a night—are you okay?"

From the outside looking in the pair probably did appear awkward.

"Yeah, yeah we're good."

Mina's eyes narrowed. "Okay? Well come out we're gonna take one last shot."

They watched her retreat behind the door, their tense bodies relaxing in her absence. They shared a look, snickers erupting from their chests. Izuku gestured for her to go ahead, but with her back to him he couldn't help but give a playful smack to her ass.

(y/n) gasped and pushed him in the chest, her face hotter than coals with embarrassment as she scurried down the hall to the next room. He did his best to hide his obvious giddy before he entered the living room. The last thing he wanted was for the others to know what happened in the other room.

When he came in he found everyone gathered around the table with shot glasses in their hand.

"Deku, I've got yours right here!" Denki held out a tequila-filled shot glass.

Making his way to the table, Izuku found space around the table between Denki and Shoto. (y/n) stood across from him next to Mina and Bakugou, though she was doing everything in her power not to look at him. Denki put the shot glass in his hand and gave a toast.

"To senior year! May we all pass our classes and finally escape this hell hole by the end of the year."

"Here, here!" They cheered in unison, tapping the bottom of the glass on the table before downing them in one sip.

It took a while for everyone to clear out of Mina and Jirou's apartment, goodbyes and what-not. Eventually, everyone pooled out, going in their respective directions back to their dorm. Some people lived in the same building as Jirou and Mina and didn't have to journey far, unlike those who lived on the other side of campus or in off-campus apartments nearby. Others wanted to keep the party going and headed to the bars in town. And (y/n)...she decided to sleep over at Mina and Jirou's insistence.

By the time the elevators reached the lobby, everyone scattered. Izuku stood on the sidewalk, unsure of what he wanted to do.

Well, he knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to take (y/n) home for round two, but now that plan was bust. He was full of energy and excitement. Hell, he was still half-hard. Every time he tried to form a coherent thought, it was overtaken by her. Her touch, her scent, her voice, her moans. The whole situation gave him whiplash. He wasn't even sure it happened. It felt like one hell of a wet dream.

"Fuck..." he muttered.

One thing was for sure; he wasn't going to let this pent-up energy go to waste.

ping! ping! ping!

wheresthebbcs: woah urgoodgrl: this is so hot! miami_milf: sweet boy, this is the horniest I've seen you. user5318008: i wish he'd use me like that.

"ah! ah! hhhhuuuhhh... fuck mee..."

Izuku's heavy pants and grunts filled the room. His whole body was sticky, coated in a thin layer of sweat due to the stuffiness of the room and the vigorous assault he was giving his dick.

As soon as he returned home from the kickback, he made quick use of his hard-on. With her memory still fresh, he set up his camera and positioned himself in the oversized leather beanbag chair in front of it. (He bought it a few months ago. It was comfier than his old desk chair and easier to clean.)

He teased himself at first, rubbing his hands on his chest and thighs, partially to excite himself more but more so to give his viewers time to join. They came like moths to a flame, flooding his comment section with their usual depraved quips. Normally, he would greet them, give them some attention, and feed into their delusional parasocial relationship with him. But tonight, he let them ping unacknowledged.

He only had the mind and energy to think about her and how much better her pussy would feel than this fuck ass fleshlight.

newgirl_2000: i've never seen him like this...it's sooooo sexy! chicagobear_3: he's fucking that thing like it's his last night on earth. brattycunt: newgirl_2000 what do you think made him like this?

The wet squelching of his lube-filled fleshlight and the slap of his balls against his ass mimicked what his imagination fantasized to be the sound of (y/n) freely bouncing on the length of his dick.

What he wouldn't give to see it for real. How amazing would it be to have all of her, to be used again by her? To see her bare, to feel her body pressed against his, smell her sweat and her cunt.

Oh...that's right....her cunt...

He'd forgotten. He had her scent quite literally in the palm of his hand. Without a second thought, Izuku held his right hand to his nose and breathed in her aroma. He moaned, the pace on his cock doubling. The muted, tangy remnants of her arousal filled his nostrils. He cursed, incoherent exclaims and praises dribbled past his lips.

"so good...so fucking good..."

thisisabathtub: ayo what the fuck? 😭 2bullies1nerd: is he smelling his fingers? playboi_thottie: i know a mf smelling pussy juice when i see one lmaoo brattycunt: NO WAY 😭😭 say it ain't so! newgirl_2000: brattycunt not somebody fucked our man 😭😭

His pathetic moans grew as he planted his feet on the ground and bucked his hips up into the translucent toy twisting and pumping along the curve of his length. There was no way it could hold a candle to the real thing, but for now, it was good. For now, it was enough. All he could do was close his eyes and imagine her while he mercilessly fucked into a cheap imitation pussy.

kingsized: hold up im typing with one hand bbydoll88: oh to be a fleshlight~ k1nkyk1tty: i'm so wet rn newgirl_2000: ^!! brattycunt: my vibrator isn't enough. i need to fuck the screen.

He was practically drooling, unable to keep his mouth closed long enough to stop his saliva from pooling in his mouth. Her scent was so sweet and full of pheromones. He couldn't get enough. For a brief moment, he dreaded the future prospect of showering and having it washed away forever. What kind of sick fuck thinks like that?

Him apparently.

But it was her fault. She made him like this. Why did she have to climb on top of him? She should've never touched him. For the rest of his life, he will remember that moment and her scent, years from now, when he's old and decrepit, married to some other person who didn't have a fraction of the hold she had on him.

He will call her name in his sleep and wake up to evidence that his doctors were wrong. He didn't have andropause, his dick worked perfectly fine in his old age! It wasn't his fault his spouse couldn't make it tick, couldn't make it jump, or get it hard as a rock, and only the mere memory of her could. That's the effect she had on him, and she cursed him the minute her lips smashed into his.

"Ohhhh, that's it...keep going. Ride it for me baby, please...lemme see, lemme see..."

The consecutive sound of rattling piggy banks blended together, one after the other, as the tips rolled in. He had half the brain power to not the success of the stream. By the sound of it, he was making more than average.

cutecummer: he has the prettiest dick i've ever seen 🥺 sl0ppy2nds: he sounds so hot! he's never been this vocal 😍 playboi_thottie tipped shyboi_3358 $35.00 miami_milf tipped shyboi_3358 $150.00 thiskenswallows: that girl must've been a great fuck to make him this feral bbydoll88: thiskenswallows lucky girl 🥲

Izuku's cock was begging for release. His balls ached something awful, and he knew he was close. He could feel it in his stomach, his abs contracting and tingling as the inside of the fleshlight rubbed against his sensitive tip. He chased the feeling, letting his head fall back, and his hand fall from his face to double-fist the handle.

He held the toy still and fucked up, up, up, faster with each passing second, ignoring the burn of his thighs and core. More, he thought. more, more, more.

"S-shit! Ohhh fuck meee...fuck me, fuckmefuckmefuck me, fuck, fuck, FUCK!!"

PING!PING!PING!PING!PING!PING!PING!PING!

Hot streams of cum filled the clear capsule and dripped down the underside of his cock. His legs shook as the tightness in his chest from his erratic breaths was released. He took deep breaths to alleviate the soreness, occasionally fucking into the fleshlight, enjoying the sinful tingle until he grew soft.

The beanbag was covered in sweat and cum, squeaking at the slightest movement. He fucked himself out so good he nearly fell asleep right there. Thankfully, viewers wouldn't allow for that.

Forcing his eyes open, he looked at the display screen as comments and tips rolled in. He never got the hang of ending the stream. It always felt awkward, but he knew it was one-sided. He blushed reading the comments that popped up, praising him, begging him for more, proclaiming their lustful fantasies about him. He smiled and chuckled hoarsely.

He grabbed the water bottle he kept close by and took some much-needed sips. Before ending the live he thanked his viewers, acknowledging the ones who tipped. After signing off, he began cleaning the mess he made when the notification for his earnings and views popped up.

Halting his actions, Izuku looked at his display screen and nearly tripped over his feet.

You had 2,196 viewers and earned $3,695 in earnings. Congratulations, shyboi_3358!

It was the most viewers and the most money he's ever made in a single live. Someone must have boosted his stream. It was hard to break four digits in one stream, though he's done it a few times before during his two-hour streams. But to make over one thousand dollars for a thirty-minute stream was only possible for seasoned and highlighted streamers.

"Holy shit."

The thought of that many people watching him seemed scarier than the usual few hundred. Still, the money was hard to ignore. Once his chair was cleaned, he took a nice, cold shower to prepare for bed. He tried not to think too much about the stream. It was most likely the algorithm throwing him a bone. His views would go back to normal the next time he streamed.

They didn't go back to normal.

Quite the opposite. Since that stream, his views have doubled, even tripled. Two weeks passed, and since that night, he became a featured streamer bestowed the ever-sought-after purple check. User shyboi_3358 was a verified Camcity content creator. Being verified came with its perks, and the money he was making filled his pockets deep, but holy hell was he in over his head!

The goal was never to become a popular streamer. It was the antithesis of the low profile he was trying to maintain. His risk of getting discovered increased immensely. True, he still hid his face, and besides his freckles, he had no defining marks on his body, but the threat was still there.

It started to weigh on him, the idea of quitting crossing his mind. Maybe it was time to throw in the towel. He had enough money saved to comfortably sail through the semester. Surely he could find a job and earn enough in time to pay for next semester. Better to quit while you're ahead, right? The last thing Izuku needed was a dreaded "this you?" text from a family member or a friend.

And so, shyboi_3358 retired at his peak one foggy September morning. Dare he say it felt good. Sure, the money will be missed, and he can't deny the thrill of it all had become a sexual hobby of his. But to no longer stress about lying to his loved ones or worry about them somehow finding out had him walking a little bit straighter in the world.

It was Monday, one of his busier class days. Most seniors had Mondays and Fridays off, but dumb freshman Izuku added a minor in visual arts so he had double the classes. He was on his way to one of those classes when an unseen assailant hooked onto his backpack and pulled him into an empty classroom.

The door clicked behind him and the motion-sensitive lights flickered on in time for him to see his kidnapper hop onto a table.

"Miss me?"

He was stunned. "(y/n)?"

"Last time I checked," she smiled.

Miss her? It's been two weeks, of course he missed her! Every other thought he had was dedicated to her. He was practically obsessed. There were two things he regretted about that night: not having her sit on his face and forgetting to ask for her number.

He asked Mina about you the following Monday after the kickback. He'd run into her on his way to the gym and wondered if she'd seen you recently. She did a few hours earlier. He could have asked Mina for her number then, but that would open up a conversation he didn't want to have. Even mentioning you in passing stirred up questions like "Why, have you seen her? Did you like her? What did you guys talk about all night?" He didn't need Mina to tell all their friends he had a thing for the new girl. With his luck, they'd jinx it.

"Hey."

"Hi." Her voice was as soft and velvety as he remembered.

"I missed you," he admitted.

Her smile grew, sighing a dreamy hum as she breathed out from her nose. "It's nice to be missed."

"Did you miss me?" He asked.

She bit her lip and rolled her eyes to the ceiling in thought, “Mmm…” She shook her hand so-so, her playful grin dimpling her cheeks.

Izuku chuckled, "Oh wow, really?" His hands slid up her thighs, scrunching her mesh skirt and exposing her silky legs. She didn’t protest. Their eyes locked in place, wordlessly staring each other down as his hand traveled up and under. He slipped his right hand between her thighs, feeling her soft mound protected by a thin mesh thong. She was wet.

"Yeah,” he smirked. “You missed me."

(y/n)’s eyes lowered to his lips like an invitation, and he gladly took it, leaning down to taste the sugar of her lip balm. One hand weaved through his curls while the other held her steady against the force of the kiss. It was heated and sexy. He pulled her waist to the table’s edge so she could feel him against her. Izuku hummed and sighed, his need growing more evident between them. He could spend hours just kissing her and be perfectly spent. Their heads twisted and turned at different angles, searching for more of each other. He had half the mind to take her right then and there in the empty classroom, but the notion ceased once she parted their lips.

"You busy?" She panted.

He had a class in five minutes and another later that day.

"No."

(Y/n) grinned and hopped from the table. "Walk with me."

Izuku watched her grab her bag and sling it across her shoulder as she headed out the door. Delayed, he gathered his bag from the floor and followed after her. Hell, he followed her all the way to the amusement park on the pier.

This crazy, beautiful, amazing girl took him on a surprise date to the boardwalk and he enjoyed every minute of it. He'd forgotten how much fun he could have sober. They had the time of their life! They played carnival games, saw a pirate show, rode a bunch of rollercoasters, ate at a nice restaurant by the water, and had a little fun of their own at the top of the Ferris Wheel. If he wasn't already in love with her before, by the end of the night he certainly was.

"I had a great time," said (y/n). They were standing in front of the door to her on-campus apartment.

"Me too," he said honestly. "Do you think I can get your number this time?"

"Why? So you can add me to your roster?"

"No roster, just you."

She liked that answer. She held out her hand and he fished his phone from his pocket to hand to her.

"This way you can text me when you want to go out, instead of lurking in vacant classrooms to kidnap me when I walk by," he teased as she typed in her number.

"First of all, I wasn't lurking, I happened to see you walk by. Secondly, I didn't kidnap you," she protested. "You came willingly."

"Sure I did."

(Y/n) rolled her eyes and returned his phone. He immediately texted her and heard her phone vibrate in her bag. She took it out and entered the new number under his name.

"So, did I make it on your roster?"

She nodded. "You're in the top five for sure."

Top five?

"What—"

She kissed him before he could complain, effectively silencing his thoughts. "Goodnight," she whispered.

"Goodnight."

She smiled when she pulled away, turning to open the door and step inside. "Take care of Mumu," she insisted as she faced him again, referring to the giant stuffed pig he'd won for her at the park. She pressed him to win it for her only to realize she had no room for it in her apartment, so she asked him to keep it for her at his.

"I will," he promised.

They waved goodbye until she closed the door and separated them both. It was nearly ten o'clock by the time he got home and he was exhausted. As great as his day had been, it wore him out. He immediately slipped from his clothes and into the shower. When he finally slipped under his covers he put his phone on the charger and saw he had a text from (y/n).

"Cute," he thought. He texted back.

He was prepared to fall blissfully to sleep, his chest warm and gooey with newfound connection when a voicemail notification banner lowered on his screen before he could turn it off. The number looked familiar like it came from the school.

Clicking on the banner, he opened the phone app and played the voice message. A distorted woman's voice came through the speakers.

"Hi, this is the Yuei University Bursar's Office trying to contact Izuku Midoriya. It appears you have an unpaid bill due by this Friday. If it is not paid by Friday at 5:00 p.m., there will be an additional late fee. If you need financial aid, please contact the Financial Aid Office. Have a good day."

Confused, Izuku closed the app and opened his browser to check his school account. Lo and behold, a four thousand dollar bill was left unpaid.

"The fuck?"

It was there, plain as day in large black numbers.

Payment Due: $4,207.62

He clicked on his account summary to see if there was some sort of mistake. Dread set in the minute he realized there was indeed a mistake, only it was his fault.

At the beginning of the semester, he had opted to try the meal plan. The university lets you use the meal plan for two weeks before allowing you to change your plan or opt out of it entirely free of charge. He figured he could take advantage of the meal plan for the first couple of weeks, opt out by the deadline, and pack his own lunch for the rest of the semester. His mistake was that he forgot. The deadline was two weeks ago and the meal plan cost $3,920.00. Add that to the parking pass he bought and you get $4,207.62.

That was money Izuku didn't have. Between rent, bills, and his empty fridge, he was screwed. How could such an amazing day turn to shit so quickly? He could feel a migraine coming on. What was he going to do? He could pay the balance with the money he saved up, but he won't have enough for everything else. It will take weeks for him to land a job and bills and rent were due in one week. Unless...

Like the green goblin mask called to Norman Osborne, the camera he used to stream called to him, mocked him.

"You need me," it said. "Come back to me. Use me. Turn me on."

Was he really going to go back? He only stopped because it was getting too risky. Yet, his popularity on Camcity.com is the only thing that can save him. He'll have to do it. He had to stream again.

One month later...

Maybe he was thinking too much. After all, what are the chances that someone he knows would stumble upon his cam videos? It's not like cam sites are the mainstream form of sex media. It was pretty niche. You had to be a special kind of pervert, a specific kind of horny to seek out cam sites. He doubted anyone he knew would be so depraved. He could stream all he liked, as long as he kept his face out of frame and changed the pitch of his voice, he could go on undetected and untraceable.

There was no need to worry. How does the saying go? "If it ain't broke, don't fix it." He had a system, and it worked: whore yourself online for a quick buck and watch your financial problems disappear. He liked this system and he had fun doing it. He could understand why others might not reach this point. Their self-proclaimed virtue wouldn't stand for it. But he wasn't born with that stigma. If society were more accepting and he was sure his family wouldn't disown him he would do this openly without shame. It was just too good.

His high libido and endless chase for sexual gratification in its many forms worked in his favor. It made him money. Like, a lot of money. Like, he thinks he entered a new tax bracket kind of money. It was the ultimate cheat code. Not many people can make a living off porn and cam sites alone. Thank God he wasn't one of those people.

All that crap about finally being free of the burden of his secret was bullshit, his mind trying to cope. Yes he hated secrets and he hated lying, he was awful at it, but like every great politician, he was willing to lie and dance around as many questions as he had to to keep money in his pockets.

This isn't greed, reader. Understand that it's pure survival that draws Izuku to this scandalous profession. Yuei University was one of the best schools in the country, and tuition didn't come cheap. There was a housing crisis that doubled rent, inflation, and most importantly, her, his perfect girlfriend whom he would sell his soul, let alone his body to provide for. Any excuse to take her out and spend money on her, he'd make.

She wanted her nails done? He handled it. Hair? "Here baby, there's $1,000, send me pics when it's done."

"Babe, aren't these shoes to die for?" His card is already in her hand.

Her stomach couldn't even rumble around him without him ordering her favorite food on Uber Eats. That's just how he was. He didn't know it until they started dating. He never had a girlfriend before to spoil. But now that he did, he wanted to make sure he had the money to keep doing it. All the more reason to keep shyboi_3358 alive.

One month. It's been one month since their first date, nearly two months since they first met, and two weeks since they made it exclusive. On the outside looking in it may have seemed like the two were moving fast, especially for two twenty-something college students in an age where being nonchalant was seemingly imperative, but to that he said, "If you knew what it felt like to be with her, you'd never want to let her go either."

He was absolutely smitten, and so was she. The two couldn't keep their hands off one another. Call it puppy love, call it the honeymoon phase, he called it burying his fingers in the prettiest pussy on the planet.

"i-izu...stop...i have to go." (y/n) whined, her grip on his wrist contending her words.

"just one more minute..." He muttered.

His body pressed up against hers, trapping her between the cool glass of his balcony door and his massive form. Rain slicked down the screen, surrounding her in drops of dew. The heat from their bodies procured condensation, fogging the glass and causing the smallest squeaks whenever her body moved and trembled. Her hands wrapped around his torso to keep herself steady.

"m'gonna be so late," she sighed.

"cum for me and i'll let you go."

Her previously shut eyes fluttered open, locking with dark emeralds. His freckled face was tinted pink, warm and blushing from his arousal. She could feel him pressing against her thigh. She wanted to do something about it but he wouldn't let her. They both knew if she did there was no way she was getting out of his apartment.

"have a...have a test next week...today's the review—a-ah!"

His long fingers curled up and rubbed against her sensitive walls. Her helpless mewls drove him mad with want.

"then be a good girl," he said, lowering his head to press soft kisses on her temple and cheek. "let me see it, princess...let me feel it."

She sat most of her body weight on his leg between her thighs and spread her legs wider for him, allowing his fingers to slide in deeper. He moaned upon hearing the slick wet sounds of her pussy. He angled his wrist and moved his hand faster. He's gotten better over time, and he was already good to begin with. He knew exactly how to make her tick. He could make her cum in fifteen seconds if he wanted to.

His fingers traversed the lush channel of her cunt more times than he could count. One touch here, a rub there, a couple of flicks that way and she's sliming and contracting around his index and middle finger with ease. But where's the fun in that? He'd rather play with her like he was now, enjoying her pretty moans and the soft warmth of her fleshy walls as she comes undone in the palm of his hand.

Her hips bucked into his hand and her nails dug into his back. She came so prettily that he came on his own without being touched. He'd never done that before, but he was so aroused that the sound of her climax set him off, his hips jutting against her thigh as an orgasm shot through his body. A guttural moan of her name fell from his lips and his hand slammed against the glass as he steadied himself.

(Y/n)'s soft lips kissed up his neck and under his jaw, her hands caressed his sides as she muttered his name. He took her in his arms, lifting her in the air and locking her legs around his waist. He chased her lips, skipping the formalities, and pushed his tongue into her mouth. They shared a slow passionate kiss, completely lost in each other. (Y/n) pulled away and placed a kiss on the tip of his nose.

"I have to go," she whispered reluctantly.

A low groan came from his chest. "I know."

He gently set her down on the ground but kept his hands attached to her waist. "Want me to drive you? It's still raining pretty bad."

She shook her head. "No, it's okay, I'll take the bus. Besides, you said you were up all night working yesterday, you should rest."

Work...right.

"Okay," he agreed, not because he wanted to but because there was no point in arguing with her. She pecked his lips and scurried off to put her jacket and shoes on at the door.

Izuku turned his head to the balcony, a small smirk dawned on his features at the ghostly print of (y/n)'s back and ass accompanied by his hand mark left on the glass.

"Hey, babe?" Her voice pulled his attention.

As he turned his head, she threw something in his direction. Luckily, his quick reflexes allowed him to catch it. He looked down at his hand and saw her balled up panties. They were white with small red hearts and a small red bow on the front.

Heat rose to his face. "What's this for?"

"Can't wear them now, they're soaked thanks to you. Wash 'em for me will ya?" She smiled sweetly.

Before he could even stutter out a response about how she shouldn't wear a maxi dress with no underwear when it's 68 degrees and raining, she zipped up her cropped puffer jacket and blew him a kiss goodbye as she walked out the door.

"I'll see you tomorrow, love you, bye!" The door closed behind her.

And he had her panties.

He stared blankly at the soiled fabric, his cock growing stiff. A wave of shame washed over him. Was he really this excited over a pair of wet panties?

"Have some dignity, man," he muttered to himself and went into his room to put her undies in his hamper.

A cold shower. That's what he needed. Jerking off to her scent on his fingers is one thing, but to be a full-on panty sniffer? Well, even he had his limits. He would never stoop so low. Absolutely not. There was no way in hell. None.

"shyboi_3358 goes crazy over girlfriend's panties! camcity stream 10/24/2023"

'Interesting...'

It was late at night. (Y/n) was laying back in her bed, vibrator in tow, incognito tab open, browsing the internet for some reliable porn. The past week had been stressful to say the least. Midterms. You know, the time in the middle of the semester that reminds students that college isn't just a fun place where you live with your friends and drink margaritas.

You have to study and actually retain the information your professors teach. It's all fun in games until the professor you haven't paid attention to the whole time informs you that the midterm is twenty-five percent of your final grade. Now you have to spend the next week trying to figure out what the fuck a metamorphic rock is so you can save your already teetering grade. And to do that you have to sacrifice all the things you hold dear, like your social life, weed, and spending time with your beautiful green-haired boyfriend.

She hadn't seen Izuku since last Thursday when she left his apartment in a hurry to get to class on time. That was five days ago. They texted and facetimed constantly, but she couldn't help but still miss his presence and his touch, especially tonight. It has rained nearly every day in the past week and tonight was no different.

It wasn't like she was complaining. She loved the rain, especially in the fall when it's paired with a nice October chill. But it was weather like this that made her think of Izuku and how badly she wished to be curled up in his arms watching Gilmore Girls or Twilight.

It also made her think of when he finger fucked her against the window in his apartment last week. That's why she laid on her bed in nothing but her underwear and Izuku's hoodie she promised to return to him weeks ago. (He's never getting it back.)

It still smelled like him. Expensive cologne and his natural musk. Heat pooled at her center. He was just so perfect. But her perfect boyfriend and his talented fingers weren't around so she had no choice but to finish herself off.

She wanted to put her vibrator to good use. Usually, she would close her eyes and relive the moments they had together, but her brain was fried from all the studying she'd been doing that whenever she closed her eyes she saw diagrams of divergent and convergent boundaries. Why the fuck did she take Geology?!

So, she moved to the next best thing: porn. No need to think if you watch, right? But the poor girl was so picky, not sure of what she was in the mood for she spent ten minutes looking for the perfect video. Ameture? Not really. Hentai? Not a fan. Lesbian? Next time for sure. She scrolled and scrolled until a thumbnail caught her eye. It was a man with smooth ivory skin sitting on the edge of a bed. He had a nice build, she could tell through the black graphic tee whore. The reason it caught her eye was because it was an All Might t-shirt.

"Heh," she laughed to herself. "Izuku has that same shirt."

Looking closely, he had a similar build as him too. She snorted. "Wouldn't that be funny."

As in, wouldn't that be funny if the guy in the video was actually Izuku? It'd be hilarious! Too bad it wasn't. It was just a coincidence. A useful one at that.

The title revealed to her that the video was a reposted recording of a camboy livestream from a few days ago. The engagement was pretty high, over three hundred thousand views and a ninety-six percent up-vote.

'This guy must be pretty popular,' she thought.

Thinking that his slight resemblance to her boyfriend would help relieve her aching core, she clicked on the video and held her phone close to her face.

The video started with the man walking into frame, and sitting on the bed. Just like the thumbnail he had on a black All Might t-shirt and matching black running shorts. Even his legs reminded her of Izuku's. They were just as long and his thighs were just as muscular. By the looks of it, he was already hard, the outline of his dick curved to the right, flat below his waistband.

He palmed himself over his shorts, his breathing growing heavier. Soft gasps and grunts spilled from his lips, which was just about all she could see of his face. Echos of what she discerned was the live stream chat notifications sporadically chimed.

The man gripped his length, allowing a proper reference for the girth and length of his dick. He was as thick as he was big, his already large hand only encapsulated two-thirds of his length. He hissed, teasingly shaking his member.

'He's pretty hot,' she thought, feeling herself get wetter as she watched

She felt bad for thinking so. Somehow it felt wrong now that she had a boyfriend. But it was only because of the faceless camboy's resemblance to her boyfriend that she even found him appealing.

Her hand searched for her vibrator at her side and brought it over her panties. She put it on its lowest setting, not wanting to hasten her climax. The video was fifteen minutes long and she planned to watch all of it.

The man on the screen shifted in his spot on the bed, leaning back and spreading his legs. He pushed the hem of his shirt back, exposing his chiseled stomach. 'Izuku's abs were like that.' She increased the speed of her vibrator. A soft moan hummed in her throat as she applied pressure on her clit.

To her suprise, and her excitement, the man began pulling down his shorts, just enough to reveal his leaking cock straining against a pair of frilly, white, and red heart-patterned panties. He was wearing women's panties. Not only that, he was wearing women's panties that looked eerily similar to a pair she owned.

"Oh my god," she said aloud as she shot upright in her bed.

He stroked himself, the feeling of the soft fabric rubbing against him brought him obvious pleasure by the sounds he was making. (Y/n) couldn't tear her eyes away. The longer she stared, the more she considered the camboy in the video might actually be her beloved boyfriend.

"There's no way," she tried to reason.

So what this guy's torso reminded her of Izuku? Most guys these days were gym rats with impressive bodies. That didn't mean it was him! And sure, the panties he wore looked like a pair of panties she had but they were in her drawer—

They weren't in her drawer. She forgot. That fast she forgot that she left those panties at Izuku's the last time she saw him. Which was last week. On October 23rd. If that wasn't enough to convince her what she saw over the next couple of minutes would.

He shed his shorts, and his languid pumps along his base grew more fervent. His hisses and grunts turned into airy moans and soft murmurs. He even sounded like him. She's earned enough of Izuku's moans to know when she's hearing them. He slipped off the panties and brought them to his face. She could hear him sniff and sigh in satisfaction, his hand increasing its speed on his glistening cock.

(Y/n)'s face burned. He was sniffing the panties. Her panties.

"Those can't be my panties," she laughed nervously, not fully confident. "I'm tripping. This isn't him. His room doesn't even look like this!"

But when the man lifted the bottom of his shirt to hold it up between his teeth, his freckled chest looked just like Izuku's. He had a silver chain necklace and a matching bar nipple piercing on his left nipple, just like Izuku. His dick which was now wrapped in red-heart patterned panties was pink and curved upwards just like Izuku's. And—wait a minute...was that—

"MUMU?!"

There, in the background, a reflection of a full-body mirror leaning against the wall showed none other than the oversized stuffed pig Izuku had won for her on their first date, Mumu.

There was no denying it. She had all the evidence right there. The anonymous camboy dubbed shyboi_3358, was none other than her boyfriend, Izuku Midoriya.

Two days went by with (y/n)'s newfound knowledge hanging over her head. She chose not to confront Izuku. How do you confront your boyfriend about being a camboy anyway? Do you get angry? Do you shame him? Do you dance around in a clown costume singing "i know your secret, your dirty little secret!"?

She didn't want to do any of those things. She was upset that he didn't tell her, but she wasn't angry or disgusted by it. The last thing she wanted him to think was that he couldn't trust her, or that she would leave him for being a camboy.

Hell, if he'd told her up front she'd offer to go the extra mile and make anonymous videos with him. That's how much she didn't care. They never talked about work, aside from the fact that they do it, so she could understand why he never brought it up. Maybe if she asked, he would be honest and tell her, and she wouldn't feel so weird about the whole situation.

And that's exactly what she did.

"Izu, what do you do for work?"

It was the day before Halloween. (Y/n) showed up to Izuku's apartment unannounced. He was in the middle of a stream when she came knocking at his front door. Izuku's heart dropped to his ass and he frantically shut down his computer like a kid who was about to get caught watching porn.

This particular stream was Halloween-themed and he was dressed up in a headless horseman costume and a vibrating cock ring. He undressed with a quickness that would put The Flash to shame. He stuffed his costume into the closet with all his other toys and threw on a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. He left the guest bedroom which he used as his streaming room and locked it behind him to greet the person at the door.

The last person he expected to see was his girlfriend. She showed up all big eyes and pouty-lipped and told him she missed him so much she decided to come visit him after taking her test as a reward.

He missed her too, so of course he let her in. They were sitting on the couch and watching The Vampire Diaries when suddenly she asked that dreaded question, completely out of the blue with no warning. He was completely unprepared.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"I mean, you never really explained to me what you do for work," she said. "Must be something good if you can afford to live here on your own."

"I freelance." He spat out his automated response.

"You freelance?" She repeated.

"Yeah."

(Y/n) narrowed her eyes. "You're telling me that you make all your money by freelancing?"

Why did he suddenly feel like he was being interrogated?

"Yes?" He didn't mean for it to come out like a question. "You can make a decent amount of money freelancing. You know, Mina's cousin is a freelance writer and she's made thousands of dollars a month writing articles for different companies and websites."

Now he was just rambling.

"Is that what you do?" She questioned. " Write articles for different companies and websites?"

"No." Good, he thought. If he'd said yes she would have asked to read an article of his that didn't exist.

"No? Then what do you do?"

"Make videos." Not far from the truth so it sounds believable.

"What kinds of videos?"

Oh shit. he didn't think that far.

"Well, I don't make them, I edit them. For other people." Perfect save!

"Oh, you mean for like YouTube and TikTok?"

Izuku nodded. "Sure, yeah like that!"

(Y/n) hummed, seemingly satisfied with his answers, and returned her focus back to the TV. He didn't notice that he was tense until he felt his body relax and sink into the couch. He felt bad for lying, even more than usual because it was her. Eventually, he will tell her the truth. But for now, he was thankful that she believed him.

'He's a shit liar,' thought (y/n).

On one hand, she thought that was a good thing. It meant that he didn't lie often. But that didn't change the fact that he lied to her face instead of telling her the truth. She hated that. She hated lying. Most of all, she hated that he didn't trust her.

"You know what I feel like doing?" She spoke after a while.

"Hmm?"

"Why don't we go to the movies?" She suggested. "Didn't you say you wanted to see Five Nights At Freddy's?"

Izuku smiled. "I thought you weren't into Five Nights at Freddy's."

"I'm not a huge nerd like you, but I've watched Markiplier's videos," she corrected.

"Okay, let me take a shower and we can go." He kissed her forehead and got up to go to his room.

She waited until she heard the water in the shower run and his door close before she moved from the couch. She had her eye on the guest bedroom door since she walked in. She asked him about it before and he told her he used it for storage, which is why it was always locked. Now she suspected that it was the unfamiliar room she saw in the video.

If he didn't want to tell her, then she'd have to find out for herself. She walked up to the door and jiggled the handle. Still locked. She cursed under her breath and tried looking around for a key. She checked in the kitchen junk drawer and in the closet but came up with nothing. She considered looking in his room, but that was too risky. She was about to give up when she looked at the top of the door frame.

'I wonder...'

She reached her hand up to swipe across the top of the door frame with her fingers and—clink!

A metal key pin fell onto the vinyl floor. 'Bingo'

She picked the key pin off the floor and stuck it into the keyhole. After jiggling it around and turning it to the left, she heard a satisfying click and opened the door.

It was exactly what she thought. It was the room in the video. A queen-sized bed sat in front of a desk with multiple monitors and a video camera. There was the mirror that faced Mumu, who was tucked in a corner next to a huge beanbag chair. By the left side of the bed was a closet that was left slightly ajar.

She moved over to the closet and opened it, her mouth falling open in shock. The closet was full of toys and fetish wear. There were handcuffs, ropes, dildos, butt plugs, various fuck toys and so many other things she wasn't familiar with. She didn't know her boyfriend was this experimental. It was kind of a turn-on.

(Y/n) noticed a muffled whirring sound and looked down at the bundle of clothes at her feet. The clothes seemed to be a costume of some sort, a vampire by the looks of it, but on top of it was a pink vibrating cock ring. She picked it up and examined it. Her cheeks grew hot as she imagined Izuki with his hands tied behind his back and his dripping cock red and overstimulated by the cock ring.

"What are you doing?"

The (h/c) haired girl jumped at the sound of Izuku's deep voice.She whirled around to find him standing there, damp, with nothing but his towel wrapped around his waist.

"How did you get in here?" He asked. He sounded upset.

"Found the key," she said.

He took a step forward. "Why were you looking for the key?"

(Y/n) sighed. "I know about the cam videos."

Izuku's eyes widened. "What?"

"I saw a video and I knew it was you. That's why I asked you about your job because I wanted you to tell me on your own. But you lied. So, I decided to see it for myself," she explained. "But now I'm realizing how incredibly invasive and wrong that was."

Izuku was stunned. Everything from his chest up turned red and he moved to sit on the edge of the bed. His legs were shaking and he buried his face in his hands. "Oh my god."

He was overwhelmed. He was angry that she would go behind his back instead of confronting him about it. He was embarrassed that she discovered his secret perversions, and he was scared for what would happen next. Would she leave him? Tell all their friends? Call him a freak, a pervert, a slut?

"You should have told me you were into this kind of stuff. We could take turns using this stuff on each other," she joked in an attempt to lighten the darkening mood. It didn't work.

He laid on his back, his hands still covering his face. (Y/n)'s heart ached for him. She could see all the thoughts swirling in his head and she wanted to silence them. Carefully, she walked up to the edge of the bed and crawled on top of him. She left gentle kisses up his chest and neck, moving along his jaw and finally ending at his lips.

Izuku's hands fell from his face and he looked up at her. Her eyes were soft and kind, with a playful glint sparkling behind them.

"Are you mad?" She pouted.

He didn't respond, making her pout even more. She leaned down to kiss him again. He kissed her back and she took that as a sign. She licked his bottom lip for access to his mouth, which he kindly granted. Her tongue dove into his mouth, tasting his familiar wet cavern. It was minty and she knew that he'd just finished brushing his teeth. His hands lifted from his sides to finally touch her, traveling up her thighs that straddled his waist and to her ass. She smiled against his lips.

"Don't be mad." she muttered as she slipped her hand between their bodies.

The sudden jolt of reverberation trembled at his loins. (Y/n) had rid him of his towel and pressed the cock ring against his balls. Izuku choked out a moan, his hips involuntarily bucking and squirming at the vibrating toy's mercy.

"I was only teasing..." She told him. "forgive me?"

She pressed a button on the side of the vibrator and increased its speed. Izuku hissed, his green eyes struggling to stay trained on her. She looked at him from above, admiring his features. He looked so beautiful in this way. His cheeks were flushed, and the color against his freckles reminded her of a strawberry. His lips were slightly tinted and glossed by her lipgloss, turning them pouty and pink. His green curls were damp and sticking to his face which was scrunched up into an expression of pleasure and frustration.

She felt him harden between her legs. A cocky grin traversed her features and she laughed. "I think you're forgiving me—"

(Y/n) gasped as her body was flipped around, switching her postion. Her back pressed against the bed while Izuku hovered over her. Her hands were pinned above her head with great force and she could feel the air in the room change.

"You're so fucking nosey."

Her heart sank. Izuku's voice was low and threatening. The glare he was giving her turned her blood to ice, raising goosebumps on her skin. This was her first time seeing him like this. She always wondered what he would look like when he was mad, but her imagination was nothing compared to the reality of it. Izuku was so kind and even-tempered, it was easy to forget how scary he is on paper. Right now he didn't look like her sweet Izuku. He did, however, look like a severely pissed off muscular, 6'5'', two hundred and fifty pound man.

"Didn't anyone ever teach you that it's rude to snoop?" He spat.

(Y/n) frowned. "I wasn't trying to snoop! You were the one keeping secrets—"

"So what?" He yelled. "That's my right, isn't it? To choose what parts of my life to share with others and when to do it!" His hands moved to aggressively lift her shirt over her head. "But not to you. No...you're selfish...and greedy. What parts I gave you weren't enough. You just had to have all of me. Had to go looking for it yourself."

Next to go were her pants and her bra, leaving her in a pair of baby blue panties..

"What are y—"

"Shut up!" His hand roughly grabbed her face, painfully smushing the sides of her cheeks and forcing her to look him in his blazing green eyes. She whimpered, heat pooling between her legs.

"I'm warning you," he growled. "From now on, you only speak when spoken to. Nod if you understand."

She gave him an obedient nod. He seemed satisfied with her compliance and loosened his grip on her cheeks.

"Good girl."

He collected her hands, and placed them above her head and held them together at the wrist with his left. His right hand found the cock ring, still on and vibrating, and held it down against her clit over her panties.

"So you saw me, huh?" He grunted as he fought her squirming hips. "What did you see?"

(Y/n) whined, unable to focus with the vibrator drumming on her clit. Izuku pressed the button and increased the speed to its highest setting.

"Answer me," he ordered.

"I...I s-saw a video of you jerking off with my panties," she sputtered out.

He wasn't expecting that. The tips of his ears turned beet red. "You saw that?"

Deep down he knew that someone out there would be recording his streams and reposting them on porn sites without his consent. But he felt the odds of someone he knew actually clicking on it and correctly discerning it was him were so low he decided not to dwell on it. But of course, that one in a trillion odds would be his girlfriend stumbling upon the only stream where he masturbated with her panties.

"Did you like it?" He decided to ask because he was curious, and part of him wanted her validation.

"Yes!" She admitted. "Seeing you wear my panties...getting so worked up over them...It was so hot!"

Izuku smirked. "It turned you on?" His finger pushed the vibrator in circles around her throbbing bud.

"Y-Yes," she strained against her moans. "It made me feel good that I had such an effect on you...that just the scent and feel of my panties could drive you crazy."

Her words seemed to set him off. He discarded the cock ring and pushed the crotch of her panties to the side. He slipped his length over her pussy, tucking it beneath her panties.

"You drive me crazy all right." He steadily bucked his hips, sliding his cock between her cotton underwear and her wet folds. "Can't you feel how bad I want you? Even now, when I'm pissed off and embarrassed, you still make me want you."

"Izu—mmph!" Izuku slapped his hand over her mouth and hushed her.

"You were right," he told her, his voice returning to his gentler register. "I do forgive you," he panted, his slow strokes teasingly rubbing against her clit. "Truth is, I've forgiven you for everything you could possibly do to me already. I can forgive you for snooping and I can forgive you for teasing. But I haven't seen you in days and I have to take out my frustration and pent-up tension somehow."

(Y/n) watched as his features softened and a sly grin flashed his teeth.

"Asshole!"

Izuku let out an airy chuckle at the glare she gave him and kissed her cheek. He trailed open-mouthed kisses down her jaw and neck. His hands reached to knead her breasts as his mouth worked to suck and lick her erect nipples. Her back arched and the softest mewls came from her throat.

"You smell so good," He muttered against her skin as he breathed in her rose body oil and vanilla-scented soap.

His lips left her breasts and traveled down her stomach until he was face-to-face with her center. "You smell good here too. So sweet..." His tongue darted out to lick a stripe from the bottom of her pussy to the top.

He hooked his arms around her thighs and threw her legs over his shoulder. When it came to eating pussy, Izuku didn't dilly-dally. He went straight for the good stuff. Encasing his mouth around the whole of her pussy, he lapped at her sopping cunt like a dehydrated hound. He hummed against her folds, moaning as his tongue thrust into her hole. She'd squeeze around the fatty muscle, her guttural moans igniting the fire in his stomach. The tip of his nose brushed against her rose-colored pearl and nestled into her trimmed triangular landing strip.

"I'll never get over how good you taste...how good you smell," he said.

He kissed her swollen pussy lips, sucking them into his mouth and releasing them with a satisfying pop. Her hips bucked and twisted, both urging for his tongue and scurrying away from it. His grip around her thighs kept her pelvis steady as he wrapped his mouth around her clit, slurping and swirling his tongue with great skill and tact. His hand unfurled from her thigh to insert her two favorite fingers.

He assaulted her pussy at top speed, angling his finger up to rub against her g-spot. It wasn't long before he felt her tighten around his fingers. She grew more liberal with her moans, her face contorted and her chest heaved. Izuku watched her from between her legs, not wanting to miss a single second of her undoing.

He tore his mouth from her clit and curled his fingers, finger-fucking her into her orgasm. "That's it...cum for me pretty girl," he cooed.

She did almost instantaneously. Her legs squeezed around his head and trembled uncontrollably. He slipped his hand from her hole and replaced it with his tongue so he could clean up the juices. He lapped her clean and relished in the taste of her cum.

(Y/n) didn't even have time to recover from her climax before her pulsating clit was attacked by the vibrator once again. She yelped and squirmed, but Izuku wouldn't relent. He only pressed down on her sensitive nerve and kept it steady.

He climbed back up to hover over her, his face was only inches away from hers. He wanted to look at her more closely. He smiled down at her, his silver chain dangled in her face and tickled her nose.

"Oh, is it too much? Want me to stop?" He taunted her.

Tears welled up in her waterline. "P-please," she begged. "it hurts!"

She begged him to make it stop, but he ignored her pleas. He took her discarded panties and stuffed them in her mouth, muffling her cries.

"I know, baby," he lilted. "But it doesn't seem like you have much respect for my boundaries. Why should I respect yours?"

Tears streamed down her face and real sobs jerked from her chest. She could feel the pain turn into pressure in her stomach. Her cunt tightened around nothing and grew sore. Her senses were completely overwhelmed with pain and pleasure. She was begging for release, either for him to stop, or for the second wave to finally crash. All the while, her sadistic lover watched, with a grin on his face.

"God..." He caressed her face with his free hand and marveled at the sight of her. "You look so pretty when you cry."

He dipped his head into the crook of her neck to nip and suck at her tender skin. He rubbed the cock ring against her clit, helping her pain crossover to pleasure. The familiar knot in her stomach tightened as Izuku captured her frantic breaths in his mouth. She choked on her muffled moans and clasped her hand around his wrist. She squeezed him so hard his ham started to tingle from lack of blood circulation. The knot in her stomach snapped, and her body spasmed beneath him. He removed the vibrator from her clit for good this time and held her in his arms. He hushed her silent sobs and sniffles and peppered kisses on her face, muttering things like, "you did so good for me" and "I'm sorry."

When her sniffles grew few and far between, he left a final kiss on her forehead and moved from the bed. She was too weak to move, but could hear him rummaging through the closet.

"Y'know," he spoke to her. "When I first met you, I thought you were like a tiger. So powerful...so sexy...I was proud to be yours. I wanted you to use me like that all the time...still do."

She felt his weight dip the bed once again, but she couldn't see him. Her gaze was stuck looking up at the cieling. She heard rustling...the sound of a jingle bell...and the sound of a bottle cap snapping open.

Suddenly, she felt him push her legs up to her chest. In her daze, she couldn't react quick enough to understand what was going on. It wasn't until she felt something metal and round coated in a cool, gel substance prodding at her anus that she accumulated the energy to lift her head from the bed and look down.

Lying on the bed next to her was a pair of fuzzy white cat ears and a pink collar with a bell on it. The round metal thing poking at her ass was a matching fluffy cat tail butt plug. Izuku attempted to push the probe through her virgin hole and she yelped, her muscles tensing and denying access.

"Relax," he ordered.

Blood rushed to her face and her heartbeat thundered against her chest. Despite her apprehension, she complied and laid back down.

"What was I saying? Oh right. A tiger. Well, you can be like that. I like it when you are. But sometimes...sometimes you're like this."

She relaxed as best she could as Izuku pushed the foreign object inside her. It was odd being stretched in that way, but she dealt with it anyway. It was in within seconds. Then, crawled on top of her and slid the cat ears onto her head.

"Sometimes you're small. Sometimes you're weak...and you want me to take over. Sometimes you want to submit to me. And the tigress..."

Finally, he adorned her neck with the pink bell collar.

"Becomes a kitten," he smirked. "And I like that too."

He sat up to look at his work. From his point of view, she looked absolutely adorable. A confused and fucked out glare covered her face, but the collar around her neck and the white cat ears nestled perfectly in her messed hair made it hard to take seriously.

"You look so cute," he swooned. "You were made for this. Maybe this should be your Halloween costume instead."

(Y/n) frowned and turned her head to the side to hide her blushing face.

"You're pouting?" He laughed. "You said you wanted me to use my toys on you. You should be happy. You're happy aren't you?"

She refused to answer his question. She felt humiliated, yet when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, the vision of her gagged and dressed up like a cat turned her on. Izuku took her by the chin and forced her to look at him.

"You should be thanking me," he muttered.

Hearing her own words uttered back to her sent a chill down her spine. Izuku pulled her ass to the edge of the bed and aligned their lower halves. The tip of his cock teased at her entrance. He held the base of his cock in his hand and rubbed himself in her slick. His mouth hung open, sighing as he slapped his weight on her twitching pussy. He lowered his body, his hands planted on either side of her head. He realigned himself at her gaping hole and slowly moved his hips forward.

"Oh shit," he moaned as he slid into her cunt. "God, you're so fucking tight..."

Inch by inch he stretched her pussy hole to accommodate his girth. This was the moment he's been waiting for. For the last two months, he's settled for pussy-licking and fingering at her request to wait until the time was right to go all the way. He respected her wishes and happily dove his fingers and his tongue in her heaven-sent pussy at any given moment. But he waited long enough to finally break through her walls, and there was no better time than now for him to bury his cock in her precious glory hole.

Her muffled whines kissed his ears and urged him to push deeper. He pushed through about half-way before he experienced any resistance. He slowly pulled out until only his tip remained, and her luscious pink wrapped around his head and pulled him back in. His cock jumped at the sight.

"look at your greedy little cunt," he moaned. "y'keep sucking me back in....so selfish...y'gotta have it all to yourself...well, take it then...take all of it. s'all for you."

He force his way back inside her, pushing through until he felt the base of his balls slap against her ass. A high-pitched moan irrupted from her chest and he felt her legs spread open for him to burry himself even deeper. Her legs wrapped around his waist and locked themself in place. Pressing his stomach against hers, Izuku took her hands in his, held them above her head, and interlaced their fingers.

He snapped his hips back and ruthlessly fucked into her. The sheer force of his thrusts pushed her body up and down along the duvet and rattled the jingle bell secured to her neck. His curved length plunged deep inside her, filling her up completely. His bulbous head rubbed against textured walls, grazing against the most sweet-feeling spots. The plug in her ass created a new sensation that she grew to love. Whatever spots Izuku's dick pressed against was also stimulated on the other side through the lining of her asshole.

The fact that it felt good mortified her and she grew frustrated and angry at Izuku for making her feel so good yet so wrong. His heavy grunts and moans consumed her. Tears glistened in her eyes and she could see nothing but the shine of his necklace dangling in her face.

Each powerful thrust earned a precious short-lived moan muted by the fabric of her panties. Wanting to hear them more clearly, he plucked the bikini from her mouth, allowing her moans to go uncensored. Her soprano vibrato melded with his baritone staccato, and the rhythmic beat of skin slapping against skin accompanied the orchestra of creaking bed frame corners scraping against vinyl floor, creating the score of their ascending symphonic pleasure fuck.

"sweet girl," Izuku panted and kissed her lips. "you sound so fucking pretty...i love it when you moan for me...i wanna hear more"

He unabashedly rutted into her, bottoming out and sweetly kissing her cervix. Delicate, manicured nails scraped at his shoulders as she glared daggers in his eyes. Her brows indented the center of her forehead in what was meant to be a deep frown, but she was so exhausted and lost in having the fuck of her life, she looked like a drooling, simpering doll.

"f-fuuuck....you....!"

Izuku laughed, a bright smile beaming across his freckled face. She really acted like a bratty little kitten.

"Oh, baby," he snickered. "You already are!"

(Y/n) seized his moment of weakness and used her strength to push Izuku to the right and roll him on his back. She landed on top of him, still connected at the hip. She pinned his shoulders and began riding his dick at her own pace, her clit occasionally brushing against his tamed pubes.

"Now you listen to me," she demanded. "I don't care that you're a camboy...I would never judge you for something like that. But I hate lying. You told me it—haa—you told me it was your right to keep secrets...but you're wrong...there should be no secrets between us."

She rolled her hips against his painfully slow, enough to keep a consistent current of pleasure flowing through his body without any build-up. His hands held her sides, holding her in place as he matched her movements and rolled his hips up into her. He looked up at her through hooded eyelids like he was in a trance. His mouth hung open and his purples were dilated into sparkling black pearls, longingly staring at his tigress. He didn't know where to keep his eyes. On her angelic face, on her beautiful bouncing tits, or her sticky pink cunt making his cock disappear.

"You have to be open....y'have to trust me...trust that I will love 'n accept you—f-fuck—no matter what!"

"You're right," he hissed. "I'm sorry...It'll never happen again, baby."

Satisfied with his apology, she forgave him in an instant and bent over to kiss his lips.

"I'm sorry too," she simpered, bouncing on his dick at her top speed. "But I swear to God, if you ever lie to me again Izuku Midoriya, I will fuck you so good you'll never be able to fuck anyone else again...and then...I'll fucking dump your ass! Nod if you understand."

He nodded fervently. "Y-yes ma'am."

(Y/n) smirked. "Good boy."

Izuku's hands encircled the globe of her ass and held her pussy in a position for him to root his feet into the ground and jackhammer up into her ribbed canal. His lips selfishly engulfed hers, swallowing all her moans, squeals, and sighs. He moaned her name like a prayer, feeling her walls tighten and compress around him. His swollen balls were begging to be emptied out into her womb. He planned to fill her up full until his hot seed spilled down her legs.

Several pussy-aching thrusts later and his dream came true. Izuku came with a cry of her name. His hips jutted into her sore pelvis, painting her insides white. He held her steady whilst she bucked and sizzled out from her own release.

"How's that for a damn kitten?" (Y/n) sighed, her voice hoarse and trembling.

Izuku chuckled and pet the top of her head. She closed her eyes and hummed, lowering her neck to brush her nose against his. He leaned up and kissed her lips, snaking his hands up her naked curves and weaving them through her locks. They stayed in that way for a while, kissing and caressing one another as their bodies recuperated and the fatigue set in.

"How did you figure it out?" He asked, breaking the prolonged silence.

(Y/n) kept her eyes closed and her head on his chest. "Hmm?"

"How did you know it was me?" He reiterated.

"You mean besides the fact that I know what my panties and my boyfriend's body looks like?" She pointed to the reflection of the stuffed pig in the mirror. "Mumu."

Izuku looked at the mirror and towards his camera to see that it was indeed in frame. "Son of a bitch," he cursed.

Another pause.

"Did you tell anyone else?" He asked. (Y/n) craned her head up to look at him. "When you found out about the video you saw. Did you tell Mina or anybody that it was me?"

Her fingers played in his thick curls.

“Don’t worry, Izu," she assured him. "Your secret is safe with me.”

Her answer settled his nerves and placed a kiss on her forehead. “Thank you.”

She returned the favor by placing one on his chest before laying her head down once more. She was staring at the room absent-mindedly, simply enjoying the closeness they were sharing when she caught sight of something in the corner of her eye. (Y/n) furrowed her brows.

“Babe?” She muttered.

“Yes?”

“Why is your camera flashing red?”

“What?”

Izuku sat up, forcing her to move onto her side. He looked at his camera and saw that there was indeed a flashing red dot hovering above the lens. The heart-in-ass feeling returned tenfold.

He sprinted from his bed and over to the desk. He waved his computer mouse around and, to his horror, the screen turned on. Notifications rang through the speakers like a siren. His screen showed live feed from his camera, as it had been for the last three and a half hours.

He never turned off the stream.

In his frantic state, he only turned off his monitors instead of successfully shutting down the computer. Everything, every single thing that had happened in the room in the last three hours was streamed on Camcity.com.

To 10,674 watchers.

dick_ryderrr: you got caught in 4k! 😂🫵🏾 user6996: your secret's safe with me too bro masterbaiter tipped shyboi_3358 $200.00! hotteacher_66 tipped shyboi_3358 $350.00! mighty_wreckeder: not even god could pull me out of that miami_milf tipped shyboi_3358 $500.00! brattycunt: I knew he was hot! ME NEXT!!!!!!!🤗 newgirl_2000: i can take them both d_throck_johnson: newgirl_2000 in a fight right?😨

Izuku disconnected the live stream and stared blankly at his screen, dread slowly filling his body.

“Shit."

thanks for reading ♡

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koreluvsspring · 3 days ago

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✰ drunk sex with satoru is soooo sloppppyyy and wet and aghh! 😵‍💫

cw fem!reader, sex under the influence, sloppy sex, spit, unprotected, spanking, creampie, breeding kink go brrrr

empty wine glasses are strewn about the wooden coffee table, trace remnants of pinot noir swirling the bottom of the dishes. what was meant to be a wholesome night of tipsy jeopardy and anagrams turned into a sloppy, drunken fit of greedy hands and utter desperation.

the two of you are entangled in a fervid, knotted mess amidst the soft carpet of his living room. tattered garments of clothing droop haphazardly from your writhing bodies. your flimsy, silken sleep shorts are mindlessly tugged just below the plush skin of your thighs, bunching around your knees as satoru nudges your panties aside with a blind hand.

you kiss eachother silly, drunkenly moaning and pulling at one another like two feral cats in a barren alleyway. two long fingers are messily gliding between your swollen lips before brazenly spreading them apart. a throaty little whine leaves you, hips bucking against the hand that paws at you.

“uhuh f— fuuckk.” is all he can manage between little gasps of air, his breath warm and narcotically sweet. “off… take this off,” he murmurs impatiently, hooking his lithe fingers beneath the hem of your shirt, “god, let me seeeee, i wanna see you — wanna taste ‘em.”

as you allow him to yank your shirt over your head, the prettiest cry is dragging from your gaped mouth and his cock twitches. hurriedly, satoru’s warm tongue is lolling out, latching against one of your hardening nipples and sucking. he groans greedily as he laps against your skin, swapping between your breasts with fervid eagerness.

“so pretty,” he babbles drunkenly, mindlessly pushing the fat of your breasts together to lick along the expanse of your soft, perspiring skin, “such a good, pretty girl… god, i wanna swallow you whole.”

a breathy little giggle interrupts your fit of whimpers, head spinning as your fingers thread throughout his mussed ivory hair, dragging him closer. with a whimper, your head is deliriously craning back, pressing into the lavishly plush carpet. gossamers of treacly saliva connect his bottom lip to your skin as he pulls away, gasping. satoru trails his lips up your exposed throat, sloppily kissing his way to your parted mouth in a slick, slovenly mess.

“open that mouth for me,” he mutters against the corner of your lips, remnants of overpriced alcohol on his breath, “i wanna see your tongue, stick it out gooood for me.”

like the obedient girl he knows you are, you’re dropping your jaw and presenting your tongue to him. a gurgled sound leaves him, his body shuddering from your unrelenting obedience. between words of praise and heaving pants, he’s leaning down and drooling onto the plush center of your tongue. a deep, sensual groan belts from the pit of his sternum as he leans even closer to fully take your tongue into his own mouth, sucking on it with a satisfied hum of pleasure.

you possess half the brain to kiss him back properly as he envelops your lips yet again, messily kissing you into the floor of his high rise apartment with little recollection of how it even got to this point. satoru can hardly help the way he’s tugging at the waistband of his sweats, but he drunkenly forgets to undo the knotted bow so he whines impatiently as he struggles.

“fuuuck, help me!” desperately, he’s reaching for your hand as he whines, pulling it over his stiff cock so that you can somehow untie the tight little bow at the top of his sweatpants. “god, take them off before i fucking cum.”

eventually, you manage to get the hem of his sweats just below his twitching cock and with a low, droning groan of relief, satoru is woozily pulling you on top of him. he watches drunkenly as you pull your sodden panties aside before raising your hips above his drooling cock head.

that poor, weeping cunt drools down the length of his cock. warm strings of pretty arousal leak from your tightening hole, filthily marrying with the amalgamated precum that lewdly seeps from the swollen head of satoru’s cock. god, it’s a fucking mess — the both of you are practically spilling over with honeyed arousal and overbearing lust as you paw at one another.

abruptly, those large, greedy hands are pulling you down, down, down. satoru stuffs you to an unapologetic hilt in one fell swoop, savoring the obscene way your cunt tightens around him, wordlessly begging for more. he listens to your body’s aching cries of pleasure as he drags you off his cock, but it’s only to plop you right back down again with a shared mewl of rapture.

“oh my god, c’mereee.” it’s almost growl as he yanks you closer with a little more force than intended, his desperate hips beginning to rut beneath you. “kiss me s… so sloppy, i wanna taste that mouth, fuck.”

two big hands are reaching for the sides of your face, dragging you impossibly closer. you whine so prettily into his mouth as his tongue laps and glissades over yours, rivulets of drool spilling from the corners of his lips. wanton whimpers drip from his unabashed mouth, his pretty boy noises like kindle to a rampant flame.

“fuck, 'm so dizzy.” you mumble, a thin gossamer of candied saliva tethering your bottom lips together, marrying you as one. “your cock feels soooo good… soo p-perfect.”

satoru’s mouth gapes, those messy, ivory brows knitting together and screwing his face up in a way that makes your stomach sink. big hands are squeeezing the fat of your ass, lengthy fingers digging so deliciously into your warm skin that you let off short little gasp. a loud, earsplitting thwack! follows, resounding off the walls as his hand lands against your skin. the contact has your poor cunt clenching so hard around his cock that it’s evoking a long, guttural cry from his throat.

“hit me again…” it’s merely a breath lost between your shared pants, “fuck! hit me again, sato. do it a-again!”

a drunk little giggle leaves him, but he does it again, and again, and again — messily smacking the fat of your ass before soothingly kneading the raw skin with the palm of his hand. your head hurts trying to make sense of the prickling pain as it’s quickly being pacified by the same hand.

“c’mon, fuck me good.” he urges, shamelessly pulling you back and forth across his aching cock.

and maybe later you’ll blame the alcohol for the way you’re sloppily bouncing up and down the entire length of his cock, tongue hanging from the corner of your mouth like a bitch in heat, but none of that matters now. you can hardly help the hands that are running over your breasts, sluttily pulling your sensitive nipples between the pads of your fingers as your head dumbly slumps to the side.

satoru let’s off a throaty little groan, pushing your damp panties further into the crevice of your thigh, desperate to see more of that wet, sloppy pussy. greedily, he’s spreading your lips, a heavy thumb catching your swollen clit in a frenzied slew of unintelligible shapes and it’s pulling your jaw slack.

“mmh such a messy cunt… look at t-that.” he blathers, pupils dilating at the sight of his big thumb effortlessly gliding over your twitching clit, aimlessly slipping around the bundle of nerves. “did losing to me in jeopardy make you this wet, huhhh?”

you shake your head stupidly, grinding your pussy down onto him as you hold his cock deeeep. “you… those fucking sweatpants… the wine”

“fuck, the wine.” he affirms, nodding up to you in silent agreement. and it’s that same fucking wine that has him on the verge of unloading an obscene amount of cum inside of you with a rickety stutter of his hips. “gonna make me c— cuuum.” satoru chokes.

“cum inside of me.” it’s a timid whisper that tumbles past your lips faster than you can bring a hand over your mouth and gasp in your feigned incredulity.

that throbbing cock twitches. “f— fuuucck, stop d-don’t say that.” he dismisses half-heartedly, a nervous little laugh following his breathy words. “it’s just the wine, baby—hah, don’t say that… you don’t mean it.”

“please, baby? it’ll make me cum soo h-hard.” woozily, you’re dropping your head to pull his lips into a slow, filthy kiss — panting into the depths of his honeyed mouth as you whine so sluttily, begging for his seed. “wan’ you to get me pregnant.. ‘m so closeee. baby, please?”

the deep, gurgled sound that leaves his sore throat is purely a beacon of hope, he’s caving. pathetically. a hand is splaying across your throat before desperately dragging you closer. his fruitless protests are hopelessly lost, swallowed and forgotten in the endless of abyss of pleasure that is you.

“yeeeah? is that what you w-want? me to breed that perfect cunt?” it’s merely a growl, hotly mumbled against your lips, slick strands of saliva threading your mouths together before snapping with the growing distance. “will that make my pretty girl happy?”

you nod down to him, pretty brows furrowing in your crescendoing arousal as you rock your wobbly hips down against him. a heavy digit is steady on your clit, thumbing your poor cunt over and over and over, relentlessly tracing over the twitching bundle of nerves so many times that your back arches away from his touch.

“shiiiit, ‘m cumming… fuck fuck!” he hiccups, unsteady hips rutting against yours, fucking himself so unbelievably deep that he’s spilling out an obscene amount warm, viscous cum, marking your pulsing walls. “oh god, cum on it... cum around my cock and allll of that fucking cum like a good, sloppy girl.”

satoru gapes as you shudder and choke on your gasping breaths. he watches the narcotic jerk of your hips as you chase your orgasm, your head deliriously lolling back to dangle beyond your shoulders. god and you sound so fucking pretty, just whining and gasping and humming out beautiful sighs of ecstasy like a beaten record.

your stomach tightens, core aching with an undeniable need as you cum around his messy cock, the pad of his thumb steadily rubbing you through it, teasingly following the unpredictable buck of your hips. if he were of half the brain, he'd cum again, stuffing you with yet another filthy load of cum but, you’ve fucked each other dumb enough.

“n– never buying that shit again,” he murmurs breathily, chest heaving as he pulls you into a warm, sweaty embrace. “you talk too crazy.”

you shrug, an impish grin kissing your lips. “now what did we learn about buying wine off of suguru?”

"never fucking do it."

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koreluvsspring · 3 days ago

Text

ASHYRHJTTHJK IT FN

✰ pretty boy satoru who is always hard and begging to be touched no matter the where he is because he’s a whoreee :(

“will you touch me, please?” he’d whine, those slutty hips bucking just once against the tangible air, uncomfortably readjusting himself. a thwarted groan leaves him as he continues to beg desperately. “baby, pleaseee it… it hurts. you can’t just leave me like this.”

satoru follows your descending gaze, the both of you peering down at his embarssing bulge at once. the thick cotton of his sweatpants strains against his hardened cock and truly, it looks like it hurts. desperately, he reaches for your hand, pulling it over his achy erection, yet you swat him away. a loud grumble of defeat drags from his dry throat.

dramatically, he crosses his long, narrow arms over his chest, shifting his body to peer out of the sleek window of the barren, swaying train. one of his gaunt knees bounce restlessly, the heel of his foot repeatedly rapping against the floor. he grumbles, “god, you’re so mean.”

“and you’re a whore. why are you hard?”

“becauseeeee!” he whimpers, ivory brows furrowing distraughtly. he throws his hands up in defeat. “i - i don’t know! i can’t help it, okay? i’m sorry.”

he watches as you roll your eyes and it makes his cock twitch. you could do anything to him, he’d let you. if you denied him forever, he’d beg forever and ever and ever. he’d fall to his knees right now if you asked. satoru doesn’t even mind when you call him a whore because he knows it, he may even prefer it.

god, it hasn’t even been one fucking hour since you’ve boarded the shinkansen to osaka and he’s restless. short, snowy wisps of hair fall before his eyes as his hips buck again, a small noise of discomfort belting from his mouth. he peers down into his lap then over at you, silently pleading with those big, begging eyes and your heart swells.

you suck your teeth, caving as an audible huff of air parts your lips. “jesus, come here.”

“god, yes.” he breathes almost too ecstatically, relief dripping from his tongue. “yes yes yes, fuck.”

hastily, he scoots closer, chest heaving in his ever growing arousal. expectantly, his gaze is flickering up, desperately catching your eyes. the prettiest look of longing is etched across his face, his eyes widening in eagerness. a shuddered whimper spills past his lips when you finally touch that poor, weeping cock and his hips stutter.

“f— fuuuck, thank youuu.” he gasps, deliriously lolling his head back to lay against his headrest, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “thankyouthankyouthankyou! oh my god, thank you baby.”

his legs fall open, trembling thighs sprawling obscenely wide like the utter slut that he is. satoru can hardly help the lewd jerk of his hips, mindlessly pushing his clothed cock against the warm palm of your hand, a desperate attempt at relieving the mind numbing ache. a throaty little groan tumbles from his gaped mouth when you begin to apply pressure, squeezing his cock just barely.

you trace around the shape of him, absentmindedly outlining the subtle curve of his twitching shaft. he throbs beneath your touch, that poor, leaking head drooling against the fabric of his briefs, ruining them. a darkened patch of precum soils his tightening sweats. the pads of your fingers creep along the dampened splotch of arousal and it only grows wetter and wetter.

“you’re such a mess,” you hum, a pretty little smile gracing your lips, “my messy boy, huh?”

he can only manage a dumb nod, peering down between his sprawled thighs to observe the way your fingers creep just a little lower, brushing against his heavy sack. his wet lips are parting stupidly, pale brows knitting as one. he really is a mess, thrusting his hips toward the palm of your hand like such a whore, stifled gasps and whimpers of your sweet name falling from his tongue.

“goddd, i’m yours! i’m your m— messy boy, all yours uh huuuhh.” he finally responds albeit woozily, slurring over his words like a drunk. his bottom lip falls between his teeth, saliva pooling against his tongue. “suuuch a fucking slut for you. only you can get me like t-this, i swear… god, i fucking swear.” he swallows thickly, voice quavering as a cry of desperation crackles in his throat.

satoru is adorable but god, is he loud. you’ve only been palming him through his sweats and he’s howling like a bitch in heat, far too overcome by his ineffable lust to even remember where he is in the first place. you shush him, clamping a hand over his mouth and he drunkenly drools against your warm palm.

he mumbles a muffled apology against your hand, promising to shut up, but it’s too late anyway because he’s accidentally cumming in his fucking sweatpants. with a long, stifled whimper, his hips stutter beneath your touch. erratic huffs of air jut from his flaring nostrils, fanning against your skin as you hold his mouth shut. satoru pants breathlessly, peering down at the obscene amount of cum that’s lewdly seeping through the fabric of his stained gray pants.

he gapes, looking up sheepishly. “i… i don’t have extra pants, baby.”

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koreluvsspring · 20 days ago

Text

“oh that man is so fucked up”

*immediately starts reading/writing fanfic about him*

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koreluvsspring · 24 days ago

Text

curiosity (part 2) — gojo satoru

MDNI, f! reader, she/her pronouns, childhood best friends to lovers, college, no curse au, once again mention of ex gfs (one of them makes a brief appearance), pining, reader wears boy shorts, reader is a virgin (no virginity loss), so is satoru lol, mutual masturbation (handjobs + fingering), he cums on your belly (accidentally), pussyjob, first kiss, kind of proofread (sry if tenses are messed up), wc: 5.3k, dividers by @/cafekitsune

this takes place the morning after the handjob you gave satoru and is basically a long ramble about two childhood best friends exploring each other’s bodies (nowhere near in moderation) but finding it difficult to redefine their bond.

part 1

a/n: i didn’t think i would get around to writing a continuation but here we are... i fear there will be a part 3 as well in the future :’) i hope you enjoy! <3

Last night Satoru and you slept together, in one bed, for the first time in years.

Sure, it wasn’t just sleeping like you initially (and very confidently) suggested. Curiosity got the better of you after he, although not intentionally, showed you a side to him you had never seen before. And so, you got a bit handsy.

Satoru stopped sharing a bed with you during sleepovers sometime early into high school. ‘You always hog the blanket’, ‘You toss and turn a lot’, ‘You breathe too loud’, ‘It’s too hot’... — is what he would say, and you didn’t think much of it. Shrugging it off as him being a rude idiot, trying to make you look bad.

There was no way he’d actually tell you that he had started popping frequent boners around you, courtesy of puberty along with these unrequited feelings he started harboring for you the day you moved into his neighborhood at the age of four.

It was embarrassing. He couldn’t possibly come clean to you — you were best friends. What if you came to hate him? What if you started avoiding him?

He spent his high school years trying to get over you. He started dating around. But he never felt the same way with any of the other girls, a clear sign of which was his actions and the lack of dedication toward them. He’d often forget about promised dates or picking them up after school to walk home together because he was too busy following you around. Helplessly. Hopelessly. He couldn’t just leave you on your own even for a second, the thought of seeing another dude hanging around you would scare the shit out of him. Trying to let go yet strongly clinging to you. You didn’t need to like him back as long as you didn’t like anyone else either. Just stay by his side.

And now, college isn’t any different.

Well, it wasn’t. Until last night.

Satoru couldn’t sleep after what happened while you dozed off quickly, as if the events that took place were nothing out of the ordinary. You seemed oddly comfortable which, truth be told, rose concern in him.

He had a lot of questions.

Do you like him? Weren’t you supposed to be at least a bit nervous if you did? Or were you simply so curious about these stuff that anyone would’ve been fine, it just happened to be him? He’s glad it was him. But what will happen with you two now? Will things be awkward? Can you go back to how you used to be? What is he supposed to say to you once you open your eyes? Will you start avoiding him? Should he pretend like nothing happened?

“Shit, I fucked up”, he whispers, thumbing his forehead like he’s trying to get rid of a headache that isn’t even there.

Please don’t avoid me, he thinks as his gaze shifts to you, still sleeping soundly.

You were drooling on the pillow in your sleep. Your hair was a mess and your eyes were crusty, the dried residue sitting in the inner corners of them. The entire blanket was on your side too, covering only you while he was out in the open, his feet cold.

What’s so good about you anyway?, he thought for a good minute. A soft smile creeping in on his lips. He couldn’t come up with a single thing that wasn't.

“Mff...”, you let out a drowsy yawn and your eyes flutter open. Rolling on your back, you stretch your arms up and turn your head to look at Satoru. “Mowniiin’ ”, you drag out through another yawn.

Satoru’s heartrate picks up. Here comes the moment he’s been dreading — facing the consequences. “Hey”, he greets back, a little bit dull in order to mask his nervousness as he acts out in his head all the different possibilities and the plausible end of your friendship.

“You don’t have a boner again, do you?”, you ask bluntly, unaware of the sweat and blood he’d been shedding in an internal battle up until now, filled with fear that today might be the day he loses it all.

“Really now?”, he gives you a look. Your crudeness is astounding him but in a way it also lessens the worry in his chest. “You’re really going to ask me that?”

“...do you?”, you turn on your side again, a glint of amusement in your expression.

“You know I am. Don’t you see it yourself?”, he clicks his tongue.

You snicker to yourself. Of course you do. After all, the blanket was wrapped around you only while he laid exposed next to you with no layer to cover the bulge in his shorts.

“Morning wood?”, you look at it. “Or is it because of me again?”

“Stop assuming things, it’s morning wood”, he states point-blank. “It’s always like this when I wake up”, which was a lie. It didn’t always happen, or at least it wasn’t this insistent.

“Hmm”, you nod. “Maybe you’re not cumming enough?”

“That’s not how it works”, he sighs. “And this is definitely not something I’ve ever expected to hear from you”

“Hmm”, you nod again. Peeking at him mischievously. “Can I—”

“No.”

“But—”

“Cut it out, will you? What’s gotten into you ever since last night? Asking to touch me and what not?”, he snaps, frustrated.

“But you let me”

“Men can’t say no to that when they’re about to bust”, he lies, kind of. “But what the hell is wrong with you?” He thinks it’s so unfair to test him like this when he’s the only one with feelings. It is quite cruel of you.

“I don’t know”, you shrug, a guilty pout on your mouth. Satoru never raises his voice at you unless something is really bugging him. “I’m not sure myself, but I liked it, what happened last night... I enjoyed it”, you quietly admit.

“You did?”, his voice goes back to normal, but this time it’s his eyes that snap wide. A slight sense of hope creeps in inside his heart now. Maybe this little slip-up could kick start something, he starts to think.

You nod. “Didn’t you like it too?”

“...I did”, his face heats up and he covers it with a hand. The essence of the conversation and the fact you liked touching him made his cock even harder. It wasn’t just a simple morning wood at this point.

“I want to do it again”, you tell him. “But do you?”

“You ask me stuff like this when I am horny and expect me to turn you down?” He slowly slides his hand down his face, stopping it right over his mouth and cupping it into his palm. “Are you sure?”, his voice muffled.

You shake your head affirmatively, with zero hesitation. “Can you touch me too? I got really wet last night while jerking you off... Your struggling face and the sounds you made were really...sexy. I wanted to cum too”, a tint of embarrassment in your tone now that you were saying this out loud.

Your abrupt and not at all anticipated confession had Satoru almost chocking on his own saliva. Due to shock, it went down the wrong pipe when swallowing, leading him to cough profusely. “I am starting to think that you’re plotting to kill me one of these days”

“It’s because you told me to come to you if I ever get curious about other things”

“I clearly did not mean murder”

You chuckle, and slowly peel the covers off you, throwing them out of the way and kicking them behind you. The shirt you’re wearing rolled up, exposing the boy shorts on your lower half and a damp spot visibly staining them on the front.

“You're wet", Satoru points out, surprise and smugness mixed in his expression.

“I thought you didn’t like to state the obvious”, you huff, rushing to fix yourself, but he reaches for your hand and stops you in your tracks.

“Is it because of me?”, he looks at you with a glint of hope, giving you a taste of your own medicine, while guiding your touch toward his crotch. His other hand pulling his shorts and boxers down, just enough to take his cock out and press your hand on it — feeling less awkward and a little bit more confident about this now that he sees clear indications of your arousal.

Sure, you touched him last night, but you didn’t see him... It all happened under the covers, so this was a first. He was big, both lengthy and girthy. Veiny too. Precum slicked the tip of his cock. The head was pink while the rest — a lighter shade but still a bit darker than his complexion. You didn’t think of it as pretty, yet it was stirring weird, unknown emotions and desires in you.

“...yeah, ‘cause of you... I think”, you bury your face in the pillow, shying away, but at the same time you shamelessly wrap your hand around his length, giving it a slow first stroke, causing his breath to rasp in his chest. The needy little pant he let out the second you made contact with him urged you to rub your thighs together, the tension in your lower half growing heavier.

Now with your roles somehow reversed, you realize how embarrassed he must’ve been last night...

“Can I?”, he swallows nervously. His hand, slightly shaking, held out in front of your clothed pussy, waiting for your verbal permission before he goes any further.

“Go ahead, I was the one who asked in the first place”, you reassure.

Just like he did for you, you help your shorts down for him and place his hand between your folds. “But—”, you pause, timidly flinching at the foreign touch. “Don’t push your fingers very deep, I— well, you know...”

He smiles. “I know, don’t worry”

He was aware that you never had your first time. Neither did he, which you would probably never guess.

Despite his rich and lengthy dating history, Satoru never went that far with any of his girlfriends. Not that the opportunity was never present — he had the looks and he had the charm so naturally they would throw themselves at him quite often. But he simply never desired them enough to even pop a boner. Well, sure it happened a few times here and there and only because some of them resembled you way too much.

At the end of the day, his dick and his mind were oddly connected. And his mind, it was still stuck on you. Perhaps, deep down, he always hoped that one day you’d be his first.

Just like last night, you were laid on your sides again, but this time both of you had your hands in each other’s pants. Your faces so close you were touching foreheads and breathing into your mouths. Not kissing, just breathing and exchanging pants and lewd moans as you worked your hands through the pleasure of the other, reveling in the sounds you each made.

"Is this, um, okay... like this?”, he breathily asks, but what he truly means is ‘Am I doing this right?’, while he’s got his thumb on your clit, rubbing it in circles, and two of his fingers — index and middle — carefully gliding over your inner lips.

You hum, biting your lip in an attempt to swallow the obscenity threatening to roll out of your tongue. Your mind was slowly going blank. “I-it f-feels real-ly g-good”, you manage through multiple pants. “Too g-good", you add, your grip letting loose around him, slowing down the strokes, the more he teased your folds. But, his free hand grabs yours, squeezing you back around him while he starts to buck his hips into your fist — a subtle reminder to maintain your ministrations, to not forget about him.

You huff at his actions, but it’s only fair — you acknowledge.

He must have quite the experience, you think. This thought a bit bothering you on itself, that he’s had his hand down other girls’ pants before, maybe his cock too, so he’s able to multitask like this... While this is a first for you. Unsure why, you feel like slapping him the more you think about it, picturing him with other girls makes you oddly jealous, but his fingers ease you back into pleasure. You’ll get mad at him later, you think.

“Tell me if it hurts. Okay?”, he nuzzles his nose against yours — since both of his hands were busy now, this was the only way of asking you to look at him.

He wanted to see your eyes and confirm for himself that you were indeed alright, that he was really doing this right because he’s never done it before, only seen it in porn. He was afraid that he’d get too distracted and hurt you unintentionally. You felt so good against his fingers that it was enough to make him lose control. All the wet dreams he’s had in the past can’t compare. He already had a lewd depiction of you in his mind that he used to jerk off to — about the way you’d look and feel down there, about the noises you’d make, about the ways your face would contort with fervor... But he realizes now that he was too frivolous and lacking in imagination. The real you beats it all.

You look at him, your brows slightly lifted, lips closed but twitching in betrayal, threatening to let out the loud moan building in your throat. His fingers scarcely prodding in only weakening your resolve.

“Let it out”, he speaks to you softly. “Don’t hold it back”, again with that sweet, sweet voice.

"Shit, you’re so foul when you use that kind of voice”, you audibly gasp, and then let it all out.

He chuckles.

His pace quicker now, greedily trying to drag more moans out of you. His entire palm, squished between your legs, now covering your pussy, rubbing harder against your folds with his middle finger slightly curled so the tip of it darts inside you with every movement. Not too deep, just enough to not break your hymen. It was driving you insane and you couldn’t keep your mouth shut. You’re certain you have never been this loud in your entire life. And you really wanted to slap him again because you were the only mess right now, your urge going stronger after witnessing that cheeky expression on his face, his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth, too focused to make you cum — maybe he was paying you back for last night.

But alas, you couldn’t do anything about it. You lost control, completely as he hit just the right places and brought you overwhelming, toe-curling pleasure.

“Did it feel good?”, Satoru curiously peeks at you as you try to catch your breath.

“Yes”, you heave. His hand was still there, fingers fumbling with your folds, hence why the tremors washing through your body took longer to quiet down. “Very”, you add.

“Will you help me finish too?”

You nod, fixing your loose grip around his cock but moving it in a quite relaxed manner, slowly.

“Are you doing this on purpose?”, he huffs.

“No. What’s the rush?”

“We have classes”

“We’re already late”

You squeeze, your strokes now steadier — not faster, but heavier — as you drag your hand up and down, earning a gratifying groan out of him. “We can skip altogether”

“And?”, he pants, with eyes half-lidded he looks at you. Are you going to suggest what he’s thinking about too?

“We can stay like this for a bit” — you gather your pace. “Wash up” — accelerating it more after the pause. “Have breakfast” — and some more. “And do this all over again” — and...

Satoru opens his mouth but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he moans low and throatily as his orgasm starts to build up.

Was it the way you moved your hand or what you said that made him crumble so fast, he was not so sure. But it was quite the intense thing. He bucked his hips a little until every bit of drop was out, and he did so in a way that made you clench. The way he squeezed his eyes shut, nose scrunched up while he bit his lower lip, his hand gripping your waist to steady himself as he thrusted into your fist... It was way too of an arousing sight.

He made a huge mess too. His cum sprayed all over your belly, uncontrollably. Your hand and fingers coated in it too.

“Shit— I didn’t mean to”, he panics, jolting and rushing to grab some tissues from the nightstand, but you stop him.

“It's okay”, you reassure him. “I think I like it”, you confess. “Next time you can cum on me intentionally”

“There is really something wrong with your head, we should go get you checked out”, he mocks, but he hides his face in the pillow to conceal the smile stretching on his lips along with the already existing blush on his cheeks. Next time, huh?

You stayed in for the day. Just as you suggested, you lingered in bed for a little longer, bickering back and forth, which put Satoru at ease. He was sick worried, but things were still the same between you two. Not quite as they used to be, considering last night and this morning, but you were still you. There was no tension, nor any awkwardness in the air.

You washed up together over the bathroom sink, bumping hips as you brushed your teeth.

He always kept a spare toothbrush for you for when you’d stay the night. He diligently changed it with a new one every now and then. Although you didn’t have any clothes over at his dorm room, he gave you his while complaining how thoughtless you were for not bringing spare clothing with you, only causing him more trouble with piling up more laundry. But he liked it, secretly. His t-shirts looked good on you, like you were his girlfriend. He didn’t have any clothes back at your room either, at first. There was no way yours would ever fit him, so he brought some and left them there. You always washed them with your clothes and they smelled like the detergent you’d always use. It made him feel like he was your boyfriend.

Later, you had breakfast, and after that — another session of exploring your bodies. Again, you only used your hands. He sat you on the table and fingered you while you stroked his cock.

You played some games, read manga, took a nap, ate lunch, and then you did it again.

And again, after dinner.

Then some more before you went to bed.

You never kissed though, not yet. As if the kiss itself meant something entirely different in the light of what you were doing, something more intimate than masturbating each other.

Day two and three were no different, you stayed locked in and repeated. You ate, you fucked each other with your hands, and you slept.

Nothing changed on the fourth either, only that you ran out of food but ordered takeout.

“Can you make it a bit spicy?”, Satoru spoke on the phone to a nearby restaurant he’d frequently order from. So frequently in fact that they knew his order by heart, and asking for the dish to be spicy was unusual of him.

“Huh? You always make we don’t put any spice in your food? Are you sure?”, the takeout clerk gasped from the other side of the line.

Scratching the back of his head, Satoru looked around to see if you were still in the bathroom before he spoke. “Yeah, I know. But, um— my girlfriend likes it”, he said, his face heating up with a red hue.

You weren’t his girlfriend. Neither of you made an attempt to redefine your relationship, and he was too afraid to make the first step. What if you were simply acting out this way because you were indeed just curious?

Either way, he wanted to say it. To say that you were his girlfriend. And it wasn’t the first time he’d done it. People would often time confuse you for a couple, and he’d never flat out deny it. You never knew about this though, it always happened behind your back. Either his friends being too nosy, or an old lady on the street telling him how good you looked together after you ran off to pet a stray cat.

On the fifth day, some friends got a bit worried. You were gone for almost an entire week, skipping classes, so that was a given.

suguru: wtf bro suguru: u alive?

satoru: yeah satoru: more than ever

suguru: huh

satoru: i might have a shot with her satoru: i'll tell u later

suguru: with who?

satoru: ur mom i've been pining over since i was four satoru: be fr now

suguru: wait suguru: HER her???????????

satoru: yeah HER her

suguru: wow it's happening?

satoru: idk satoru: ...kinda

suguru: good luck bro suguru: if you fuck it up i'll try my chance with her suguru: so make sure u do ur best LOL

satoru: i will beat u up and block u

Naturally, it started to feel less awkward the more you did it. ‘Are you hard?’ or ‘Are you wet?’ being the initiating lines you were both dying to hear now, knowing well what they’d lead to. The answer was always ‘yes’, there was no denying that you were both hard and wet around each other for the most part.

At some point you began skipping the questions, just letting your hands roam and find out. Consent was always silently present.

Even when you weren’t being naughty with each other, it was different. You had definitely started seeing Satoru in a new light, which scared you a little bit. The way you looked at him, and the way you caught him looking at you — it wasn’t the same as it had been. There was more to it.

On the sixth day, you tried something different.

“My hands are tired”, you complain.

“Let’s try something different”, Satoru proposes.

He lies on his back, holding his cock flat against his stomach. “Hop on it”

“What—”, your eyes pop out in shock. “I’m not ready for that, yet”, you squirm, holding your face in your palms. You were curious about intercourse, of course, but you were also scared. All the forums you scrolled through had a different take on it — some netizens said the first time was painful while others claimed they only felt a slight discomfort but nothing more. Many mentioned bleeding too. You didn’t know which category you’d fall into. And as much as you wanted it, the idea of putting Satoru’s cock inside you was quite intimidating. He was big. Will it even fit?

Satoru chuckles. “I don’t mean that — just straddle me, sit yourself right on top of it and rock your hips back and forth” He points at his cock, “See, I am holding it down for you so it won’t enter you. You’ll just hump against the length of it and nothing more. It’ll feel good, I promise”

You peek at him from between your fingers. “Okay”, you timidly agree.

It was good, but short-lived. Unfortunately, you didn’t get to finish in this position because Satoru came too soon and too hard, his entire body shivering continuously. He had no idea what he was getting himself into when he proposed it but having your warmth and your slick on his cock directly from the source messed him up. It took him every ounce of restraint not to just slide it in and have his way with you.

On the seventh day, after all the things you’d done, you finally shared your first kiss.

It was nothing nearly romantic like it was in the books and in the movies. In fact, it kind of happened out of spite.

It was around lunchtime. You both felt like eating pizza today, and so you ordered. In the meantime, while waiting for your food to be delivered, you hopped in the bathroom to take a quick shower.

Satoru wanted to join you too, but you kicked him out, telling him to wait for the delivery guy. With a tail between his legs and a hangdog face he crawled back on the bed, huffing and puffing loudly so you could hear him and maybe pity him enough to invite him back...

His brilliant performance of a sad puppy was interrupted by a knock on the door. This was quick, he thought, and jumped out of the bed, thrilled — he could pay for the food and sneak in to play with you...

He quickly tossed on a shirt and put on some shorts on the way to get the door.

It was not the food.

It was his ex, standing on his doorstep with her arms crossed over her waist, eyeing him demandingly.

“Don’t tell me you’re so heartbroken over our breakup that you would lock yourself in your room and skip classes for an entire week?”, she scoffs.

“Did you forget who broke up with who?”, Satoru snorts.

For sure, she did not. Satoru did it quite cruelly, over text after ghosting her for three days. It was not his proudest moment but he didn’t care enough to feel guilty over it.

And she was fully aware of it too. But still, she liked him a lot, in fact she liked him ever since orientation and it took her an entire year to work her way to him. She was desperate.

She sighs deeply, dropping the attitude now. “You never replied to my messages”

“Didn’t see”

“You did, but you left me on seen”

“Must’ve forgotten to answer”

His answers were short and dry. The timing was simply bad, and he wanted her out of here before you came out of the shower, concerned that her being here would create a misunderstanding in your head.

“Look, I am sorry I said all those stuff about your friend. But it bothered me, okay? You treated her more like a girlfriend than you did me, your actual girlfriend... I was constantly under the impression that—”, before she could finish a third voice cut her off.

“’Toru”, you yell from behind him. “Is it the food?”

Your hair damp, a towel wrapped around your body, you saunter over to the door from behind him to peek, but your feet freeze in place.

Oh? That girl... his ex.

You woke up happy this morning, in fact you woke up happy every morning for the past seven days but now your mood was foul all of a sudden. That same odd feeling you’d get whenever you thought of Satoru with another girl creeped in in your chest. While you brushed it off easily in the past, you couldn’t quite do so now. The irritation grew more insistent. Your demons were threatening to act up.

“...there was something going on between you”, the girl finishes her sentence, then pauses to let out a short laugh and shake her head in disbelief before she continues. “I guess my hunch was right, huh?”

You step a little closer, standing right next to Satoru.

Something you couldn’t quite put your finger on came over you. Of course, you could read the room — she obviously came here to mend things up. And you were not happy about it. Not in the slightest. Was this annoying feeling tugging at your chest called jealousy? You didn’t have a reason to hate this girl, she did nothing to you. Yet...

“Well, well. Aren’t you a smart one?” — you couldn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth right now but you didn’t have it in you to stop.

Utterly amused, Satoru stared at you. He was shocked, in a pleasingly new way. A semblance of an idiotic smile plastered on his lips while he did nothing to stop you.

“Should I perhaps solidify your hunch with a proof so you stop running after someone else’s boyfriend?”, you glare at her.

Standing on your toes, you clutch a handful of Satoru’s shirt with both hands, pulling him down to the level of your face for your lips to reach his, and kiss him.

Helpless in the face of your lips laid against his, he lets out an audible gasp. The sound of it vibrating against your mouth. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, he thinks, but his eyes close anyway, melting into the softness of your lips. There was no tongue, just a long peck, and he couldn’t help but smile into it.

Without breaking the kiss, you look at the girl from the corner of your eye, and you slam the door in her face.

“Good riddance”, you murmur after pulling away from Satoru, and walk back inside.

He never knew that a simple kiss like this could make him so dizzy that he would lose his balance and stumble. As if his feet got caught in something he involuntarily took a few sharp steps forward, putting his arms out to steady himself and avoid falling face down.

“Hey”, he called out, slowly following behind you.

“What’s her deal anyway?”, you keep going at it, still beyond irritated. “Didn’t you guys break up?”

“Hey”, he speaks again, stepping closer.

“And she's pestering you like this? The audacity...”

“Hey—”

“What!”, you yell, turning around to give him a scolding too because, knowing him, he probably didn’t end things with her in a manner that was polite and proper.

...but he was right behind you, smiling at you affectionately with his eyes. It made your breath hitch, and your chest — feel a bit peculiar.

“Hey”, he repeats again, softly. His hands squish your cheeks inside his palms and he slowly cranes his neck down. “Did you mean it?”, he asks through a whisper.

You shift your gaze to the side, avoiding to look at him directly. “Did I mean what?”, you puff.

“Calling me your boyfriend”, he tilts his head to the side, blocking your view and forcing you to look at him.

“No... I was just saving your ass” — you try to break free to prevent the heat on your cheeks from warming the skin of his palms, from giving you away. But he’s holding you still.

He leans in closer and whispers, “Would it be so bad if I was your boyfriend?”

It was not a question as much it was a plea. Let me.

“You’re a bit of a jerk sometimes, so maybe? I know for sure people will judge me for my poor taste”

“Your mom won’t, she likes me”, he points out, proudly.

“She likes you more than she likes me, her own daughter, so her opinion is invalid. In fact, she would tell you to go pick someone better”, you snort, and he laughs. She really did love him like her own son. After all, he grew up in her hands along with you. You spent day and night together, in and out of each other’s houses.

“I am serious”, he gives a gentle squeeze around your face, an attempt to snap you out of the ongoing banter because he was desperate to know. You didn’t give him a proper answer, but you didn’t reject him either — there was still hope, he thought. “Would you hate it?”

“...I don’t know”, you let out quietly, conflicted.

“Should we try? Or are you only curious about my body?”

“See? You’re kind of a jerk after all”, you pout. “Will things change... between us?”

“Aren’t they already changing?”, he smiles.

You hum, softly tugging at the hem of his shirt with both of your hands. "I don't want to lose my best friend if we screw this up”

“Same”, he nuzzles his face closer. “That’s why, we won’t screw this up”, he quietly chants into you like a promise, drawing his lips to yours tenderly before either of you have the chance to panic any further about the implications of this change.

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koreluvsspring · 24 days ago

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curiosity — gojo satoru

MDNI, f! reader, childhood friends to lovers, satoru is painfully aware of his own feelings while reader is not, mention of past girlfriends (and how they all looked like you), handjob (m! receiving), cumming in pants (and in your hand), not proofread, wc: 2k, dividers by @/cafekitsune

synopsis: gojo satoru is your childhood best friend. you’ve been inseparable ever since you were little. spending day and night together, you’d often have sleepovers together — a tradition you both carried on throughout your college years. at least once a week you’d drop by his dorm room and stay the night, or vice versa. but compared to your childhood days, you no longer share one bed. that is, until . . .

part 2

a/n: this is a further (and very lousy) elaboration on this post of mine but hey, HAPPY BDAY TO MY ONE AND ONLY

“i think we should try sleeping together”, you suggest one night.

“wah—“, satoru gasps, a teasing glint in his eyes. “didn’t know you felt that way about me”, he smirks.

“just sleeping”, you quickly clarify. “whatever obscene thing you just thought of — it’s not that”, you add, giving him a roll of your eyes.

“you should pick your words more wisely”, he scoffs. “if you go around telling people you want to sleep with them, they will misunderstand”

“ugh”, you huff, “i obviously didn’t mean it like that, and you know it”

“yeah, i do”, he lets out a soft chuckle. he knew exactly what you meant, but still he disguised his wishful thinking behind a teasing remark. “why though? all of a sudden?”

“dunno”, you shrug. “just feeling bad that you always take the floor”

“if that’s the case we can just swap”

“no — i cherish my comfort. come on, we used to do this all the time”, you pout.

indeed you did. but you were kids back then, things were different.

his heartbeat would race and his face would get all hot and red, the heat would fester through his entire body. but when the lights were off it was easy to hide it, the signs that he liked you. after making sure you were fast asleep, he would hold your hand and childishly smile to himself, he would peck it softly, secretly. one time you woke up in the middle of the night and almost caught him but he, startled, kicked you off the bed. yelling at you, lying, how you pushed your finger in his nostril in your sleep… he was so embarrassed, but also relieved you believed what he said was true. his secret was safe.

but now?

when you stand too close to him his body starts acting up in more mature ways. while he is better at controlling his facial expressions now and hiding his nervous heartbeat behind a nonchalant attitude, he struggles with keeping his urges at bay. he’s no longer the boy that blushes while secretly holding your hand; he is a man who craves you.

even when he’s laid on the futon beside the bed you occupy, the sound of your breathing alone gets him hard. you lie there, sleeping innocently, unaware of how much of a pain in the crotch you are being to him. when you leave in the mornings, he climbs onto the bed that is soaked with your scent and shamelessly jerks off. he stands on his knees and sprays his load on the bedsheets. eyes shut close, he pictures you beneath him.

he sighs in defeat. “fine”

“the right side is mine — it’s only natural, because i am always right”, you snicker and quickly pad over to the bed, plopping your body down on the mattress. “sure”, he chuckles and follows after you, sinking himself right next to you.

it is a bit awkward, you must admit. you are laid on your sides facing each other, in silence.

it’s cramped indeed, your knees are brushing against his and the space in the middle separating your bodies from one another is very scarce. but that was to be expected, the beds in the dorm rooms were designed for one person after all.

“so”, you break the silence. “how’s your girlfriend doing?”

“she’s not my girlfriend, anymore”, he states dryly.

“but it’s been barely two weeks since you started dating”

“well, things didn’t work out i guess”

the girls he dated, all of them looked a bit like you. same height, same hair color and length. similar facial features… he never lasted long with any of them though. all of them, visibly bothered by your presence in his life, would too soon ask him to make a choice — either them or you. neither of them aware that he chose to be with them in the first place only because they reminded him of you, and that it was never the question itself that drove him away from them. it was bound to happen, sooner or later. they could never be you.

you hum. “i see”

as you shift to make yourself more comfortable, you feel the shirt he gave you to wear to bed roll up ever so slightly, revealing the bare of your belly. a bit self-conscious now that he’s next to you, you are immediately urged to cover yourself. you slide a hand under the blanket, rummaging around to get a hold of the hem, but oh...

…the back of your hand brushes against something stiff. the friction incurring a low pant from the man, your best friend, next to you.

“fuck”, satoru hisses. his hand clasps around your wrist, pushing it away, but along with the movement his knuckles graze the flesh of your stomach. “fuck”, he curses again.

“satoru”, you say his name, voice hushed and timid but there is a note of underlying curiosity he is way too familiar with.

this is exactly why he was avoiding the one bed scenario — his boners were too hard to hide at this age and this size of him.

“satoru”, you repeat. “are you hard?”

“i wish you didn’t ask the obvious”, he mumbles, embarrassed. warmth washing over his face uncontrollably, just like in the past. but there was a bigger problem now — down in his pants, and the fact he got caught.

“is it because of me?”

“no”, he clicks his tongue, his grip still tight around your wrist, keeping your hand at bay. “it’s because i didn’t jerk off tonight, you know — it’s a natural thing for us men to randomly pop a boner throughout the day”

…which was true. but it was not the case right now.

“can i play with it a little?”, you ask, sneakily twisting your wrist in an attempt to free your hand.

“oi!”, he yelps. “did you hit you head or what?”

“i am curious”, you blurt out. “just a little?”

“stop”, he warns. “it’s weird”

his resolve is hanging by a thread right now, you’re too cunning to tempt him like this. he knows things will get awfully messy between you if he lets you cross this line. but still, he can’t flat out deny you. deep down he wants you to persist, a little bit more… if you ask him one more time, maybe he’ll crumble. surely, he will.

“it’s not”, you reassure. “i won’t jerk you off, i’ll just touch it”, you explain. “please? just a little?”

well. fuck it.

“this is a bad idea”, he says, but loosens his grip around your wrist. “fine”, he mumbles. “but just a little”

you nod, pulling your hand away only to slide it down his body.

you’re not really sure why you were so happy to hear the news about his break-up, but you always felt more at ease when he belonged just to you. your best friend, and not someone else’s boyfriend. you don’t know why you were doing this right now, or why your heart was racing. maybe because it really was weird? or maybe you were just horny?

finding his cock wasn’t difficult, it sure stood out from the rest of his body.

“you really are hard”, you gasp, running your fingers across the bulge in his shorts, dragging out a throaty groan out of him.

“yeah”, he mumbles. “like i said, stop stating the obvious”

“it’s a bit wet here”, ignoring his words, you thumb the spot where his tip is, making him squirm. his body slightly jerks as you press your palm against it. cupping it inside your hand you squeezing it gently. “it’s warm too”, you keep exploring further. “it has a pulse”

satoru lets out a helpless whine. “you sound so dirty right now, it’s weird”

he’s longed for this type of intimacy with you for years. but in his head, he pictured it differently. it was him who was supposed to do things to you, not the other way around. he was supposed to be the confident one, delving into your layers, making you squirm and fall apart under his touch. not the other way around… but this was good too. too good for him to oppose it. you were his weakness, after all. you always have been. no matter how much he teased and picked on you, in the end he always let you do as you pleased. this was not an exception.

you giggle to yourself. “yeah? you like that new side of me, don’t you?”

“…maybe”

sneaking your hand through the front of his shorts and boxers, you feel the flesh of his cock directly. it was twitching, his tip slick with precum. you put the tip of your index finger on his slit and rub circles around it to smear the pre oozing out of it, getting another soft whimper out of him. the head of his cock all slippery now, urging you to rub it all over the rest of his length.

your fingers wrap around his cock as you start to move your hand up and down, slowly, smearing his own slick onto his own flesh.

he tries to swallow the moan stuck in his throat. “you said you were not going to jerk me off, but what now? you’re playing a bit too much, don’t you think?”

satoru can last long. under normal circumstances, that is. but having you — not just his hand, but you, his first ever love, his only love — touch him like that, he could barely hold back. the urge to bust has been there since the moment you put your hand on his cock.

“why? you gonna cum?”, you slip your hand lower, down to the base of his shaft — where his balls are. you caress them tenderly, incurring yet another soft groan from him, before you go back to stroking him again. with each drag you pick up the pace. the room is filled with the squelching sounds caused by your hand, at this point, confidently fisting his slick covered cock, and his heavy breathing.

“hey”, he puts his hand on your cheek, softly pinching on it with his fingertips. an attempt to make you snap out of it, but alas — you don’t back away. “don’t regret this”, he whispers, almost beggingly. but his voice comes out too shallow for your ears to pick up on.

“are you close?”, you peek at him, watching his face with rapt fascination, grateful that you left the night lamp on.

never have you ever seen him like this. his cheeks so hot and flushed that his pale skin was lit completely red, up to his ears and his neck. beads of sweat across his forehead with strands of his hair stuck on it. mouth agape — huffing and puffing. his brows knitted, desperately. pleadingly. his mouth telling you to stop, yet his face told a different story. so did the part of him inside your palm. it made you throb, down there, and squeeze your thighs together. your own wetness spurting out from your slit, drenching the inside of your underwear”

“fuck—", he growls. “i am— c-close”, he stutters, struggling to control his breathing and the moans that roll out of his mouth.

you feel his cock twitch in your hand, differently. the pulse on it beating faster and more brashly, like it almost made his skin stretch and push against the flesh of your palm. and then, there was a delay. a few, very short seconds in which his cock stood still before violently exploding, pumping out a thick shot of cum. then some more, and more, and more — until the pouring turned into a light dribble toward the end.

“ugh”, he throatily groans, his body relaxing after oozing all the tension out. although slower now, you keep stroking him, running your fingers across his softening cock.

“oh wow”, you gasp, his cum sticky on your skin, drenching the space between your fingers. “what a mess”, you giggle.

“you’re trouble”, he sighs. “is your curiosity satisfied now?”

you nod.

“if you get curious about other things”, he pauses, scratching the back of his head, “come to me. don’t go to other men”

“i’ll think about it”, you smirk.

after that night, you stayed over for an entire week.

this little play time turned into routine, and you were no longer the only one playing.

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koreluvsspring · 2 months ago

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Continuation.

Bakugo Katsuki swore that he would die before he let you have Izuku's number.

And yet, somehow, the three of you have ended up together for drinks.

He thinks it's a fair compromise; Izuku can ask his million questions, Bakugo can kill the rumors that the two of you are together, you can-

He's not sure what your goal is, but he can see it shining in your eyes.

Izuku is still in his teaching clothes, a pristine button up rolled up to the elbows and a pressed pair of pants. There's an extra shine and coil to his curly hair, and it smells like sandalwood; he put effort into his appearance and Bakugo knows it isn't for him.

Your words echo in the back of his mind: people always want what they can't have.

"You worked for the commission? As a hero?" Izuku asks you.

You never give direct answers- just these convenient truths delivered with a pretty smile.

"I'm retired."

Lipstick clings to the rim of your drink. It makes your lips looks soft and round, even when you run your tongue across your teeth.

"Retired?" Izuku asks. "Wow, I'm kind of jealous."

"She's my social media manager." Bakugo cuts in. "And a tiktok person."

Not his girlfriend, he wants to add, but he refrains.

"Kacchan says you have a cool quirk." Izuku talks without pause, rambling mostly to himself in that way Katsuku has taught himself to find endearing. His attention never wanes away from you, but you don't blush or squirm. You sit and endure with that damn smile on your face. "What is it called? How does it work? I tried to Google it, but nothing comes up. You are so young to be retired, I just-"

You lean forward and place a hand on Izuku's upper thigh, cutting him off midsentence.

"You have very beautiful eyes," you say, slow, stepping gently over every word. "Wide, wet: like a rabbit's."

Izuku snaps silent. Each one of your nails taps against his thigh, one by one. Bakugo watches how your thumb swipes side to side, how your lips part with your exhale, how your smile creeps up all on its own as you lean even closer-

"You twitch like one too."

"Oh, wow, uh-" Izuku stutters, his whole face flushing a dark pink, so strong it eats his freckles. Finally, someone else understands your goddammit issues. Bakugo swallows down the strange feeling in his chest with the last dregs of his beer.

"I'm going to get a drink, I think." Izuku stands, pulling away from your touch.

"Grab me a beer?" Katsuki shakes his empty can. Izuku nods, then looks at you.

"Soda water with lime."

"No alcohol?"

"I like to keep my wits about me."

The man nods, then practically scurries off to the bar. You huff, content, like a dog that's bought it's master their hunt.

"You scared the fuck outta him."

"He liked it." You pick a piece of lint off of your skirt. "They always do. Watch: he'll come back and sit even closer to me."

Bakugo throws himself back into his seat, arms crossed. "You're so damn cocky."

"Look who's talking, Kacchan." You tilt your head, pouting your lips with fake sincerity. "I can call you that, right? As your girlfriend?"

He sinks even lower in his chair. "You aren't my girlfriend."

"I could be." You mimic him. You lean back and let your knees spread just a bit, just enough that he could see what under if he tried- "The sex would be phenomenal."

That hits him like a shot. It's not that he wants to have sex with you, but he can't deny that the thought crosses his mind every now and again. He thinks about it when he's alone, when the bed feels too big, when he's-

"You don't fucking know that!" He's too angry already, especially compared to your nonplussed response.

"I do.'

"You don't even fucking know me." He points a finger back at you. "And I don't know anything about you."

"It's better if you don't know."

Bakugo sneers. Another nonanswer. He looks back towards Izuku, who's locked in conversation with the bartender. Why would you even bother with him? Someone like you would rip through him like tissue paper. You're right- he is a rabbit, and you're a dog, waiting with your sharp teeth to-

A hand cups his ear. Bakugo watches as you lean in over the table, bringing your lips to his ear.

"I grew up in the commission. One of their little project kids," you whisper. Sometimes, your lips make contact with cartilage and his skin sparks with heat. "I did things for them. Bad things. Illegal things."

"You kill people?" he whispers back.

"You know the answer to that." With every word, you creep closer, until your hands are on his thighs now. "They forced me to retire when Hawks took over. No more need for girls with bloody hands."

It's the truth. Your voice is painfully sincere for once, a strange change from your usual composed self. You're just giving him what he wants, but it's working. It's working. He almost puts his hand around your waist.

If Izuku is a rabbit, he's a fox, and you've lured him out of his fucking burrow. At this point, he'd welcome your teeth in his neck.

"What else should I tell you? My favorite color's red, I love the beach. You're not allowed to pull my hair, I never sleep over after sex," you continue. "I have a scar on my chest. So, you're not surprised when you see it later."

"Stop assuming that I'm going to fuck you."

"Oh, you're going to." You slink back over to your seat. Hands folded over your lap- a snake ready to strike. "I'm going to flirt with Izuku until you break-"

You turn your attention away from him, waving towards the approaching Izuku. "And then you're gonna fuck my brains out, Kacchan."

There's no time to respond before Izuku teeters back, blaming three drinks with a little difficulty. He hands then out, then sits back down-

So close to you that his thigh brushes yours.

"Thank you, little rabbit," you tease, eyes flicking back to Bakugo with a knowing, smug smile.

Fuck, Bakugo thinks. Fuck.

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koreluvsspring · 2 months ago

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FWB!JJK FICS RECS

words cannot express how much i love the fwb troupe!! literally it has me squealing all the timeee! updating as i find more (suggestions r open) ^.^ mdni, nsfw content

gojo fanatize - screampied pinning and wooing and flirting - ahtsumu gn!reader x gojo - staryukis i hope when the moon goes - namisin gojo satoru x reader - keisins morning after - staryukis fwb gojo - staryukis just friends - greeniegreengreen must be love - y2kuromi rich boy gojo - saetoru fwb gojo thoughts - oh-katsuki fwb gojo - garoujo fwb playboy gojo - septembersummer satoru is feeling possessive and never fails to get his way - strawberrystepmom put a little love on me - nkogneatho blow me (one last kiss) - starmapz bury secerets in my skin - musouie friends with benefits satoru - arminsumi

geto fwb geto - idiotgojo brooklyn baby - tonycries smoke gets in your eyes - natty-whines friends who smash together stay together - tojiswhore-adventurinesslut fwb 2 lovers geto suguru - kentoangel jealous - gabseyoo fwb! getou suguru - bokebelle commonalities - semisgroupie cunning - prelovednikaidou

choso fuck buddy!choso - ivyvenus333 commonalities - semisgroupie

nanami silent confessions - v1x3n

sukuna i'll make you miss me - hiraethwrote

toji fwb! toji (cucking gojo) - nyxronomicon pillow talk - white-poppie

yuuji don't want you like a best friend - gojonanami

megumi fwb megumi - a-pastel-edgelord a letter to my beloved - pengujoon

etc comin back for more - isamoa fwb jjk - garoujo one of your girls - bwere-deactivated20240619 / acrhnoelle she said don't get too attached, but she attached me - rosesaints keep it between us (smau) - gojom0jo

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koreluvsspring · 2 months ago

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we have to stop letting people write our pathetic Guys as daddy doms. i hope the next pandemic is premature ejaculation

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koreluvsspring · 2 months ago

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needy bokuto x reader drabble

hmmmm this format is diff than what i usually do, but i liked it, lmk if it's acceptable. i wanna do a 'real' bokuto x tutor!reader but that's also been done 19328 times before

warnings. nsfw themes. impatience? or incompetence? minors dni.

info. nsfw themes / inexperienced!reader / bokuto begging / impatient!bokuto / airhead!bokuto / bokuto with raging hormones / dumb dick bokuto / 380 words

haikyuu collection. more here.

links. masterlist / my ao3 / request box closed for now

bokuto being brought to tears when you tell him you need to head back home in the middle of your makeout session. making every excuse in the damn book to keep going, begging, groveling, underneath you.

please don't go. i need you, please, god-- you don't get it.

it's true that you don't. you don't understand why he's never satisfied with how far you've gotten with him. for you, your progress is reason for celebration. for him, it's never enough.

you have to be careful around him. not showing too much skin is obvious, but even the things you say set him off and he spirals into a needy, whiny mess begging you for just a little kiss.

but you know it's never just anything. it's always as far as he can 'pretty please?' you to.

there were already enough 'could you please just--,' requests that you found yourself yielding to. there was always a pressure of from buzz in your head, his tongue against your neck, that you second-guessed every time he asked to see you now. he always got you there no matter the excuse.

he was failing three of his classes. you had to compromise. sitting side-by-side, a spread of textbooks on the table and assignments on his laptop from weeks ago he never opened.

even now he wasn't paying attention to them.

his shameless pinky prodding under the seam of your shorts was pushed back down to your mid thigh. you watched how his face tangled up, pain and frustration around his eyes and in the corners of his mouth. it tightened his broad shoulders, made his ears a cute tinge of pink.

it was endearing, at least. you liked the way he sat in silence sometimes, and suffered for you. if you could manage it, sometimes you would spare a glance to the near-permanent bulge in his lap.

a forced sigh.

you felt the pad of his thumb prod into your supple flesh and when your wince didn't tell him enough, you pulled it off and returned the hand to its owner.

maybe if he wasn't so eager.

taglist (love ya'll)

@yuchacco

@integers

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koreluvsspring · 2 months ago

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 . . . 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 ! — masterlist

you are the picture-perfect empress of eastern empire… until your husband the emperor, zen’in naoya, demands a divorce! but you won’t take this lying down . . .

genre: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—kinda ooc, slowburn, angst to eventual fluff, marriage of convenience, heavy pining, mentions of infidelity, infertility, misogyny, pregnancy, explicit smut, childbirth, curses

note: inspired by and taking some elements of manhwa remarried empress

more: emperor gojo | emperor naoya | official fanart | ko-fi

status: completed

:: 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 ::

001 — 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 ! in which your husband suddenly casts you aside for his expecting mistress… but you won't be dethroned just like that, because the newly coronated western emperor, gojo satoru, sets his sights on you! and thus your revenge against your ex-husband begins...

002 — 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐒 ! in the wake of your scandalous divorce, you fall into the arms of emperor gojo satoru. for a while, you believe you have found love… until it becomes clear that your new husband is scheming behind your back! love, marriage, divorce… are you doomed to go through this path the second time?

003 — 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄 ! the path of love is never easy for you, be it now or back then. love, pain, betrayal and tragedy — you have been through them all. after all is said and done, you just want one chance at happiness. so will your second marriage be what you always want it to be, or will it be one last heartbreak you have to go through?

:: 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 ::

you — empress of eastern empire. formerly a noble lady from an acclaimed clan and then made a crown princess of eastern empire to marry your childhood friend, naoya

gojo satoru — emperor of western empire. previously known as the "cursed prince" for being blind during a period of his childhood. for the longest time, he has been in love with you

zen'in naoya — emperor of eastern empire. your first love, crown prince naoya, wasn't the spiteful emperor who divorces you during the 5th year of your marriage, but the throne seems to shape his ambitions the longer he sits there. has he loved you all this time, you ask? dunno, only he knows

hanabi — naoya's mistress. your head maidservant ever since your marriage to naoya, she is actually compliant and doesn't seem to hold any malice against you. she bears his child, and elevated to the rank of royal consort

geto suguru — the duke. a neat and proper person, emperor gojo's peer, confidant and voice of reason. gojo claims he names his messenger cat (sugu-chan) after him out of love and respect

ieiri shoko — the countess. shoko, geto and gojo went to the imperial academy together, which is why she's so casual around both of them. after marrying gojo, she becomes your lady-in-waiting

:: 𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐒 ::

prequel: how sugu-chan the cat came to be

empress confronting hanabi (takes place in all hail the empress)

duke geto and the empress’ paintings: part 1 | part 2 | part 3

the empress’ dress visuals

behind the scenes: untold tales

🏷️ taglist

@myahfig4 @yoyo-yui @luna-v-roiya @animemanwhamangalover @hotvinimon @anpacax0 @fullwriterpoem @an-ever-angry-bi @tazuduck @alexatiu @washeduphasbeen @theiridescentdragon @aquamarine001 @saucypeanuttt @captainchrisstan @artist1936 @paprikaquinn @megumisthirdog @whatshernameis @moonjellyfishie @spn-obession @poopooindamouf @hhk-jyon @ittomain1 @kalulakunundrum @risuola @jossayuuu @wiccanindigo @alwaysfreakingout @a-trashbag @wannapizzamymindposts @roscpctals99 @chxrv @tnu-ree @sov-sin @estella-novella @homewhereitsat @manyno @coffeeluvr96 @taeminfaerie @inluvkai @mellowarcadefun @sxnkuna @nerdiellers @krokietino @tttttttf @dumb-hore @snore-3 @leopoldonfire @uziwork @hyori2 @gojoful @wr4inn @nnasv @oidloid @deeeeexx

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koreluvsspring · 2 months ago

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01: so act like a stand up guy

album bonus tracks: — utahime's the only sane and responsible one, everyone loves her — yuki and y/n are always on something istg... — the gc are app choy/n shippers (yuki being the biggest fan) — the entire gc hates sukuna, especially utahime

⋮ MASTERLIST ֹ⋮ ֹPREVIOUS ⋮ ֹNEXT ⋮

. ꒷ TAG LIST .ᐟ.ᐟ [OPEN 24/50] @celloccino @creamflix @shokosbunny @nymphsdomain @alpha-mommy69 @soulairess @poopooindamouf @reyna-isabellaa @justamina-blog @koreluvsspring @mayhemfellasleep @clamousera @roxy776699 @ayla-1605 @kaemaybae @starmapz @gigiiiiislife @puppyminnnie @desideityy @yuhig-blog @kaiiibxby @ami20019 @kentochronicles @missthatgirl

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koreluvsspring · 2 months ago

Note

hey i really really love your fics and the way you write youre so talented! ive been searching for a virgin!yuji x virgin!reader for so long and my life would literally be urs if you wrote this. if not no worries, i totally get it.

sending love! - anon

OH THIS IDEA IS HOOOOTTTTT AND U BEST BELIEVE IM ALL OVER IT!! thank you for your sweet words and for sending in a request!! i hope you like it!! :] <333

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

oh my god, pretty!

{yuji itadori x f!reader}

summary: your relationship with yuji was semi new and cute, you both absolutely adoring the fuck out of one another since the moment you met. one thing you have in common though? you’re both loser virgins with absolutely no experience whatsoever, and on one night where you’re both innocently cuddling on the couch watching a movie— yuji goes NUTS.

warnings: MDNI. college!au, afab!reader, SMUT, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it ya’ll), accidental creampie LOL, yuji is a little perv, smut with barely any plot she goes straight to the good stuff, cursing, pet names, fluff, FILTHYYYY this is filthy, all characters are aged up.

word count: 3.9k

authors note: PHEEWWWW THIS ONE HAD ME MEOWING LIKE A KITTY CAT AND I HOPE YALL MEOW WITH ME!!! thank you for your support always, that is an absolute given, i love you and i love you forever. MWAAAHHHH <3333

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“are you okay baby?”

no you were not.

because yuji was in a black tight compression tee and pj’s while you both were watching a movie together and cuddling on your living room couch, the sleeves of his shirt accentuating his biceps and the rest of it squeezing over his pecs and torso, the brightness of your tv illuminating all of his sharp handsome features that had you gnawing at your nails in a nervous fit— him looking at you with pinched eyebrows.

yuji and you had just started dating a couple of months ago— his lively overly friendly personality winning you over without really much effort at all, and your genuine sweet one catching his heart the minute he saw you come into one of his lectures last year, looking soul killingly beautiful and radiant, the both of you befriending each other quickly as your interests aligned.

and you started hanging out on and off campus a lot more frequently after that— gradually falling more and more in love until yuji finally gathered up his jumpy nerves and asked you to be his girlfriend.

there was a problem though.

neither of you had had sex before, or had done anything in between the lines with other people before you got together.

it was the first thing that yuji worried about when he first started dating you— embarrassed and afraid that you would think he was a big fat loser with no game and that he would potentially run the risk of losing you, you maybe preferring a man of experience to match your own needs.

but when he admitted that to you, and when you shook your worried little head and told him you were in the same exact boat as him, he was fucking elated— his apprehensions crumbling down like a landslide and replaced instead with the giddiness of getting to do stuff with you for the first time ever, and him being the man (the only man ever he hoped) to get to do it to you.

but then there was another problem.

neither of you seemed to want to start anything, the both of you hesitant and scared because of your lack of experience— petrified of humiliating yourselves if one of you tried and pathetically failed at it or did something incorrectly.

“mhm! fine.” you smiled sweetly, your calm voice a completely different contrast to what was currently happening inside your reeling fuzzy brain.

you had both definitely talked about it, the subject of intimacy. but it was always something that the two of you reassured each other would happen eventually when you were both ready, that there was no rush— choosing to brush the subject off like it was nothing.

except it wasn’t nothing. it was never nothing. and you were both way past fucking ready, especially yuji, him practically ripping apart at the seams with horn dog need anytime he saw you wear those little skirts that you like so much, or whenever you’d straddle his lap during one of your daily makeout sessions— his hands literally trembling over your ass in attempts at being respectful of pretty ol’ you, settling for placing them on your upper back instead.

and you would internally pout, disappointed, because you always without fail noticed all of this yet you were too shy to mention anything or do something about it on your own.

“you sure?” he asked softly. “you look like you’re thinking about something.”

he raised a hand and gently poked your cheek repeatedly with his index finger, a silly smile on his face. “tell me baby tell me baby tell me baby—”

you giggled, “i’m okay! just zoned out.” you pushed his finger away, leaning up and pressing a quick shy kiss to his cheek that made him instantly flush pink in return, a wobbly smile spreading across his face.

in the midst of you retreating back to your previous position, yuji caught your chin with his fingers and turned you to look at him, your cheeks blushing as he stared at you with lovesick dreamy eyes.

“can we— um.” his gaze flickered to your lips. “can we make out.”

your eyes widened slightly and your hands grew clammy fast, cheeks buzzing as you stared back at him.

since making out was the only thing you both properly conquered, it happened almost every single time you saw each other, the act practically filling in and making up for the more lewd exchanges you both were missing out on, your kisses always sloppy and messy but heated— though each time it came around to it you were often just as nervous as the first time.

“s—sure!” you stammered. “you don’t have to ask me yuji… you can just— y’know… do it..”

he bit his tongue, your timidness for some fucking reason sending a shock of arousal through his veins and straight down to his dick as he tried his best to swallow it and not make it obvious for you.

“okay!”

he brought your face closer then and kissed you, a solid one at first, until you slowly parted your lips and ushered him in, deeper, your body moving closer to his on its own as he immediately responded with placing a hand on your leg to throw it over his lap, your mouths wet and slippery as he properly settled you to sit on him.

you wrapped your arms around his neck, the movie drowned out completely in the background as a sequence of lip smackings echoed throughout the room, yuji’s hands on your upper back like always as you continued to make out… until you felt a little stinging cramp in your knee— moving your hips a little bit to readjust, utterly unaware of how you accidentally applied pressure over yuji’s crotch as he sucked in a breath through his nose and pulled away.

“fuck don’t do that baby don’t do that.”

you froze, hands quickly retracting back to your chest. “what? what do what?”

“oh—” he froze, eyes wide and cheeks pink as his mouth opened and closed like a fishy out of water.

he couldn’t possibly tell you why, not wanting to scare you away by admitting that you grinding down on his crotch like that made his dick jerk and mind haze in the most filthy and perverted way imaginable, feeling like he wanted to dig himself a big fat grave of horny shame to throw himself into as he watched your pretty eyes look at him the way that they were, wanting that same look but underneath him instead—

your bent knee cramped up once more and you hissed, moving your hips again except this time harder, yuji’s eyes flying open as the grip around your upper torso tightened, a strangled whiny hum escaping his throat.

your eyes snapped to his at the sound, now feeling something hard poking your clothed pussy as your brain finally put fucking two and two together, your hand slapping over your mouth in embarrassment at what you did and over your stupid delayed realization.

“oh! yuji i’m so sorry i— i didn’t realize—”

he shook his head rapidly, his cheeks and ears red as he shakily smoothed his hands over your hips comfortingly.

“no baby! don’t be sorry it’s okay!” he quickly kissed your forehead. “i—it’s me… it’s not you at all…”

but there was something else behind his eyes, something you couldn’t quite pinpoint as he just stared at the place where your body met his crotch, hands slowly gripping your hips tighter in a certain way and… and actually moving you now in a certain way that made you promptly realize he was grinding you against him, pleasure quickly twitching at your clit in response as flat hands flew to his chest to stabilize yourself.

“what— what are you doing?” you stammered, your chest heaving a little.

“s—sorry!…” he mumbled, eyes still trained to the same area. “it just— felt kind of good… so..”

yuji peered up at you, a cautious look on his face as he eyed you curiously with his pinky cheeks bright— hesitantly indulging in his overwhelming sick need for you, as simply making out was just not cutting it anymore ever since he got a taste of how something like this could feel a couple of seconds ago.

and your thoughts were identical to his.

timidly, you slid your hands up slowly to rest back on his manly shoulders, the rough material of his compression tee under your fingers making you literally squeeze your hole around nothing, eyes nervously darting around his face.

“o—okay…”

his hand came up to brush some of your soft hair over your shoulder, his thumb moving in to caress gently over your hot cheek.

“can i… can i do it again?”

you shakily nodded, and he gripped your hips again before moving you just like he did before, your crotch coming down to meet his slowly and cautiously as your mouth partially hung open at how good it actually felt, yuji staring at your expression with blown out pupils and nearly drooling over it.

but he wanted more, his hands moving you then to grind on him a little faster, his hips coming up to meet yours at the same time as you shyly met him halfway— quick and stuttery until all of a sudden you were full blown humping into each other like rabid dogs, your tiny whiny moans setting him the fuck off as he captured your lips again to make out with you, fearing if he let you quietly moan like that for his ears to selfishly drink up that he was going to end up busting in his pants.

“y—yuji…” you whimpered in between kisses.

“yeah baby?” his husky voice sent another electrical shock of ecstasy through your body, your fingers gripping his shirt in tiny fists as you didn’t even know what exactly you were pleading him for.

but he knew.

he wrapped his arms entirely around you and moved so that you were laying flat on your back now, yuji in between your legs as he kissed you sloppily while grinding himself back on you again, him literally mimicking how it would be to fuck you as you squeezed his biceps for support, your thin pajama shorts feeling his hard cock bulging from his pj pants and rutting against your cunt desperately with every hump.

yuji, literally trapped in a dimension of arousal and nasty fucking thoughts of you with every moan that slipped past your puffy soft lips, had him reaching and tugging down on the waist band of your shorts like an animal, your baby blue panties with a little ribbon bow in the middle making him nearly choke on his spit.

your hand quickly came to clasp around his wrist, stopping him.

“y—yuji my parents! i don’t know if we should—”

“oh fuck—” he whispered, looking up to the top of your staircase and down where your parents were sound asleep, gnawing so much on his bottom lip in cock blocked agony that he accidentally drew blood.

and you didn’t know why, but the urge was unforgiving as you reached up and cupped his hot sweaty cheeks, pulling his face down as you stuck your tongue out and licked over his bleeding lip.

yuji stared, eyes wide, before he let out a low guttural grown and shoved his face into the crook of your neck.

“fuck fuck fuck fuck—”

you were fucking killing him.

he rolled his leaky cock slowly into you again, his shoulders trembling at the cold feeling of his wet boxers that were literally covered in pre cum the moment your pretty plush thighs sat over his lap, you speaking up.

“m—maybe—”

he pulled back fast.

“yeah?”

“maybe if you just— look. that… that should be fine, right?”

“yeah yeah!” yuji’s invisible tail was practically wagging over your words. “look uh huh! just look baby.”

you bit your lip, slowly reaching down and tugging as both of yuji’s hands went flying down to help you, pulling them over your thighs and down to your ankles before setting them behind him on the couch with a soft thud.

you kept your thighs closed, shy and timid as you realized yuji hadn’t seen you like this yet… your cheeks flaring in embarrassment as he pulled your knees apart and gawked at the vision before him, yuji looking at you like you had built the entirety of rome by yourself with your bare hands.

you hadn’t noticed yet, but your panties were drenched— a patch of wet spread over your lips that literally outlined the anatomy of your pussy to a t, leaving little to the imagination as his eyes stayed locked on your clit in a complete trance.

“oh my god, pretty!…” he murmured, his index finger coming down to softly touch and rub your puffed up clit over your panties, you squeaking in response and slamming your thighs closed again.

“sorry! sorry!” he sputtered, frantic as he came down to peck little kisses on your cheek apologetically, your eyes shut, bashful. “did that hurt? i didn’t mean to i’m sorry—”

“n—no!” you shook your head and slowly peeked your eyes open. “it didn’t… just felt s—sensitive.”

his shoulders relaxed in relief, nodding, his eyes widening in delight when you spread your legs back open for him again, your panties literally stuck slick to your pussy at this point.

yuji’s fingers pressed against your folds, him wanting to just feel the way your little wet lips mushed up against his digits, his curious hand directing him slowly up over your clit and back down by your virgin hole as he breathed hard through his nose, trying to get himself to calm the fuck down over your cunt and not freak you out.

but what he was doing felt good, him having no idea as you pulled your bottom lip in between your teeth with your eyebrows screwed together in euphoria, his ears perking up at the sounds of your sweet little moans and whines the more pressure he applied to it.

and then he got an idea.

as you were distracted getting riled up by his fingers, yuji shoved his other hand under his wet pajama pants and boxers, pulling out his throbbing cock and pumping it a little as his angry tip leaked with every jerk— a drop oozing down and landing right on your nub before rolling over your panties as he breathed out a string of hushed curses.

yuji replaced the hand on your pussy with his cock, his length and tip pushing up in between your sopping cunt and back down, completely soiling your panties with a mix of your arousal and his pre cum as he rolled his hips into you again, you not noticing at all until both of his rough hands came to grip and squeeze over your inner thighs, your eyes fluttering open as you wondered why it felt way better than before, them bulging once you saw his thick long dick slipping and sliding hurriedly against your pussy.

“b—baby!” you moaned breathlessly, but yuji literally could not hear you as his dazed droopy eyes stayed focused on your swollen puss while he continued to rut.

“uh huh..?..” he panted. “what’s wrong sweetheart…”

your words lodged themselves in the back of your throat as a particular rough thrust made you choke and clamp your mouth shut, squeezing your eyes shut in response with your sensitive nub pulsing as you felt yuji’s leaky sticky cum all over you.

“does it— does it feel good?” his eyes finally trailed up to look at you, his already fucked out expression and flushed face forming a yummy pit in your stomach that you recognized as your release whenever you fingered yourself, except that feeling no where near as good as what you felt right fucking now.

“mhm..” you moaned and licked your lips.

yuji’s fingers slid up from your inner thighs and to the straps of your panties, fiddling and playing with them as he rolled his hips like a little perv, his tip at times falling and literally sinking into your gaping virgin hole a bit— your panties a thin stretchy wall that frustratingly stopped his cock from going, slipping back upward instead.

“baby…” he moaned lowly, whispering. “maybe we should just have sex right now…”

you gasped. “right now?! i don’t know yuji my— my parents— and we’ve never—”

he leaned down and sloppily kissed you, speaking in between each smack.

“they’re asleep it’s—” mmphf— “it’s okay—”

yuji already had his middle finger hooked under your wet panties as he started pulling down, you squeaking at the cold breeze hitting your bare clit.

“i want to but— hic!”

he rubbed his tip over your entrance a bit, pooling your juice up.

“what if— what if we get too loud? and they come downstairs—”

he shook his head. “i’ll keep on a lookout pretty don’t worry about it...” he murmured. “you just relax while i pump my cock in, yeah?”

you whimpered, nodding quickly and pathetically as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down flush against your chest, suctioning tiny sucks on his jaw to keep you from moaning the loudest you’ve moaned all night as he started pushing in, yuji’s mind in a literal fucking state of delirium as his dick was finally gonna be buried in your cute pussy after wanting it for so long.

you hiccuped against his jaw, your arms gripping him tighter as he stretched you out so good, feeling a little pinch in your walls that made you spread your legs wider in attempts at alleviating it.

“ohhhh fuckkkk baby—” he moaned loud and you quickly clamped a hand over his mouth.

“shhh honey shhh—”

“m’sorry m’sorry m’sorry—”

his voice was muffled against your hand as he pumped deeper, your squeal catching itself in your throat and his body fucking shivering at the way your tight slobbering walls sucked him in without him having to even push, your hole clenching around him and pumping more strings of stray pre cum out inside you.

“my god do that again please do that again—” he panted, reeling his hips back slowly and pushing in at a steady rhythm.

“d—do what?” you panted, your eyes closing in pleasure.

“squeeze— shit!— squeeze me please please—” he begged, pressing wet open mouthed kisses on your cheeks as he licked up your little overstimulated tears.

“like— like this?”

you clenched your hole again and his body jerked, his choked moans huffing in your ear as he rolled and snapped his hips faster.

“mm! yuji my god—” you squealed and he placed a hand over your mouth, the both of you now covering over each others as he proceeded to drill his hips in, the couch squeaking with every messy hit.

your hand tightened over his lips the louder he moaned, your eyes silently pleading with him to be a little quieter, but him too lost in the milking of his cock and the way your fucked out face looked as he couldn’t connect the dots with what you were asking of him, suddenly your blurry brain coming into reasonable consciousness for a second as you became aware of the fact that you weren’t even using protection.

“b—baby—” you muffled against his hand. “we’re not using a— mmm! c—condom we need—”

smack smack smack—

“shit i don’t— i don’t have one sweetheart.” he stifled, and yuji only went faster then, harder and jerky as his awkward virgin hips jolted you up and down on him, your eyes rolling back. “s’okay i’ll just pull out m’kay? i’ll pull out—”

his snappy pace brought your brain back into your previous dumb erotic state, nodding dazedly as he scooched his hand down and shoved his middle and ring finger inside your wet mouth, your tongue slobbering over his digits before your lips lewdly closed around them and sucked.

yuji was not keeping a lookout for your parents.

“oh fuck baby you look so fucking pretty doing that…” he choked. “you look so so pretty under me and taking my dick—”

“mhm..” you moaned around his fingers, drool seeping out of your mouth and down your chin as you felt like you were on the brink of cumming and squelching all over him.

“i’m gonna pull out soon okay? i feel—” pant— “i feel like i’m cumming—”

you pulled back from his fingers with a pop and licked your lips, nodding vigorously as you squeezed your eyes painfully shut, your release washing over you like a prickly wave with your mouth hung wide open and your vision blowing bright white.

but in the midst of you creaming, you accidentally clamped your thighs shut around yuji as he tried to slip his dick out.

“fuck! i can’t—” pant— “baby open your legs please im gonna— fuck fuck fuck!—”

yuji’s cum pummeled inside you and filled you the absolute brim as he gasped and whined in your ear, his balls draining so much of it into you that it took no time at all for it to slip past your hole and onto your couch below, the both of you heaving heavily with your clothes stuck against your sweaty sticky bodies.

“are you—” he swallowed. “are you okay baby? i’m sorry i came inside—”

“it’s okay it wasn’t you—” you tried to regulate your breathing. “it— it was my fault… i trapped you in…”

you sheepishly looked at him and gnawed at the inside of your cheek in shame, your face only making him lazily grin and press a hard loving kiss to your cheek.

“it’s okay. we can figure it out later!”

he peeled away from you and sat up, his softening cock still buried inside as he slowly pulled out and watched the rest of his cum spurt out, taking one of his shaky fingers and collecting some before pushing it back in your hole.

“don’t put it back in yujiiii!” you whined.

“sorry! sorry sorry—” he grabbed your wrist gently and kissed the back of your hand, his pinky cheeks vibrant as he looked at you with a wobbly shy smile. “i— i couldn’t help myself…”

you giggled. “s’okay honey.”

he laid his body back over yours, being mindful not to squish you as he leaned some of his weight on his arms, cutely pecking your puffy lips over and over until he was satisfied with the amount, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck after.

“m’glad my first time was with you yuji…” you murmured into his ear, your words causing his heart to literally bang against his chest as he felt like he was on cloud nine with you underneath him like that.

“i’m glad it was with you pretty.” he pushed, looking into your fucked out eyes with sincerity. “and i hope it stays that way. just my dick.”

you laughed loudly, your hand quickly coming up to cover your mouth as he giggled.

you pecked his nose sweetly and readjusted your hips, your cum covered pussy brushing against his cock again, the blood immediately rushing back to it faster than a speeding fucking bullet.

he traced a loving finger across your bottom lip delicately, a little grin on his face.

you quirked a brow. “what?”

“can we um—“ he quickly kissed you. “can we try doggy style right now?”

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taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):

@cupcaketeddybehr @soobiary @roachfun @waterfal-ling @saebaey @reneinii @luvvmae @cake-with-the-cream @pixie-dix @2ukika @cramelmacchiao @hy3phiren @fushigurioo @wil10wthetree

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koreluvsspring · 2 months ago

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dress up. (toji fushiguro x f!reader)

synopsis: in an attempt to make some memories, you come up with the idea of a family costume for this year’s halloween. toji and megumi might need a little convincing, though…

a/n: first fic in like a year and first time writing for my babygirl toji :3

word count: 1.1k

toji carelessly lets himself fall next to you, his sheer body weight causing the couch to jolt slightly. he nods at your phone. “whatcha looking at?”

“just some costumes. halloween’s coming up and—”

a smile creeps up on toji’s face before you can get another word out. “you shoulda asked me first, baby. i got a few good ideas. patient and nurse could work, i love a woman in uniform—my woman in uniform. cop and prisoner, too. would give us a good excuse to finally buy some handcuffs.” he winks.

“sounds like you’ve been thinking about this for a while,” you tease. “but unfortunately, none of those are gonna work.”

toji’s face falls ever so slightly and you have to hold back a laugh at seeing a grown man pout.

“had you let me finish, you’d know i want to do a family costume.”

“baby, c’mon,” he groans, rubbing his face. “i never go all out f’ halloween, you know that.”

you arch a brow. “you seemed eager a few seconds ago.”

he huffs. “that was different.”

“mhm, sure,” you reply, sarcastically. “i don’t mind suggestions, just a little more family friendly and less… porn-y.”

“where’s the fun in that?” he deadpans.

you smack his bicep. “save the roleplaying for later. i mean, just look at how cute these are.”

you hand him your phone and he reluctantly takes it. he’s seen this app before; pinterest, he believes it’s called. his eyes roam over the page for a moment, seeing various families of three dressed in an array of costumes. rock, paper and scissors. ketchup, mustard and a hot dog. fork, knife, and spoon.

he hands you back your phone when he decides he’s seen enough. “baby, those are humiliating.”

“no they’re not! they’re fun.” you snatch the device back, furiously scrolling. “besides, we’re making memories for megumi to look back on when he’s older.”

“have you met the little twerp? he’s practically a 70 year old man in the body of a second grader.” toji shakes his head with a smile. “you sure he’d even wanna do this?”

“we should at least ask him. then he can’t say we never tried.”

toji’s eyes soften; you really were giving this your all. your dedication to making megumi’s childhood a happy and healthy one was something that tugged at his heart strings; especially since toji had never received that kind of affection in his youth. and yet, here was a beautiful woman he was privileged to call his wife trying her best to break that generational curse. he truly was a lucky man.

“megumi!” shouts toji, suddenly determined to make this family costume work. “get in here!”

megumi’s little voice comes back muffled from his upstairs bedroom. “wait, i’m almost done with this level!”

“tch, he’s glued to that damn thing. what’s it called? a switch?” toji shakes his head and mumbles, “should’ve never let you buy it f’ him.”

“don’t be jealous,” you tease. “if you’re good, i’ll get you one for christmas too.”

toji smirks. “actually, i wanted to ask for a special gift this year.”

“oh yeah? what’s that?”

“y’know how megumi’s been askin’ for a sibling—”

you shove his shoulder and he laughs.

toji takes that as his cue to leave and talk to megumi, standing from the couch with an exaggerated groan. (you always made fun of him for it, claiming that it was such an old man thing to do. he always refuted that you knew what you were getting into when you married someone his age.)

he heads upstairs, delivering a firm knock when he reaches megumi’s door. “get out here, kiddo. need to talk to ya real quick.”

he hears a groan then the shuffling of feet. the door swings open and there stands his son, eyebrows furrowed and lips downturned. clearly, he wasn’t thrilled about having to pause his game.

“sheesh, kid,” toji huffs. “don’t make that face, starting to look like your old man.”

“what is it, dad?” he sighs in exasperation.

“we’re dressing up for halloween this year. as a family.”

that catches the eight year old off guard. “what? why?”

“for the memories or somethin’.”

“i don’t really wanna…” megumi trails off.

toji scratches the back of his head. “i hear ya. but it’ll make your mom real happy so we’re doin’ it.”

megumi purses his lips. “what’s the costume?”

“i dunno. we can’t seem t’ decide. got any ideas?”

“hmmm… i kinda wanted to be michael meyers this year.”

“it’s a group costume, megumi, ya can’t just— hang on, michael meyers? how the hell do you know about him?”

megumi shrugs as if he doesn’t see the issue. “i saw the movie at uncle shiu’s house once.”

toji makes a mental note to never shiu babysit megumi again. or at the very least, go over what movies a second grader is allowed to watch.

toji clears his throat. “well, forget you ever saw it. and don’t tell your mother, got it?”

megumi nods.

“good. erm… any other ideas?”

there’s a silence between the two.

“c’mon, kid, think of something. if not, your mom’s gonna make us dress up as condiments or silverware or somethin’ stupid.”

megumi groans, clearly fed up with the conversation. “can i just go back to playing super mario bros?”

it’s as if a lightbulb goes off in toji’s mind. “you like those guys?”

megumi nods slowly. “yeah… why?”

“you wanna be one of ‘em for halloween?”

megumi’s face lights up. “really? can i be luigi?”

toji grins, satisfied with his reaction. “don’t see why not.”

“cool! does that mean you’ll be mario?”

his dad chuckles. “guess so.”

“ooh and mom could be princess peach!”

“that’s the, uh… pink one, right?”

megumi giggles at his father’s obliviousness, nodding.

“works out then. i’ll go tell your mama.” he ruffles his son’s tar black hair. “thanks, megs. gonna make her day.”

megumi flashes a toothy grin then retreats back into his room.

when toji returns to the living room with a smug smile and pep in his step, you take notice.

“what’s with you?” you inquire.

“oh, nothin’. just got megumi to agree on a family costume, that’s all.”

you eye your husband with interest. “oh really?”

“you’re welcome, princess. speaking of which, you’re gonna need a pink dress and crown.”

“well, now i’m really curious.”

“you know that little game he likes? the one with the plumber brothers—” before he can even finish, you shoot up from your comfortable position.

“how didn’t i think of that sooner? it’s perfect!”

“megs seemed pretty excited about it too. knew exactly which character he wanted to be and everythin’.”

you nearly melt. “that’s all what i wanted. i’ll order the costumes right away.” you lean over to pepper his face in kisses. “thank you so much, toji.”

he grunts, though he’s smiling so hard his scar tilts upwards. “yeah, yeah. how about you thank me with that christmas present i was talkin’ about earlier?”

you pull away from him and grin. “nice try.”

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koreluvsspring · 2 months ago

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𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞

╰┈➤ 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐎𝐟𝐟 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐁𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

𝐋𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭 𝐱 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 || 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐨 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐉𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚 𝐑𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

⟩ Part One | » Part Two « ⟨

cw : MDNI - s1 Lestat, top male reader, sub Lestat, jealous Lestat, i bagged a baddie by being autistic aesthetic, nsfw, mentions of alcohol, mentions of blood and gore, mentions of death, mentions of homophobia, inappropriate use of lipstick, lestat crashes out bad, y'all are on your own with the french translations, goodluck, anon request. wc : 12.8k

Lestat adored you as much as you worshiped him on bended knee. In your mind, you knew you threaded a line that could lead to a prosperous life, or one that would end in an instance. You were more than knowledge about the mans’ power and true nature, but your heart—your heart was his completely.

The vampire was more than familiar with those who'd been enthralled with him. Wanting to occupy his space, his life, his bed, his lips even, but you? He had such a sick fascination to keep you around and in his current immortal life, and then some. He did not proclaim love, even though it was obvious with the affection he smothered you in and vice versa.

What he couldn't stand, was the eyes of others roaming your body, thoughts wild and with hunger for you. Strangers ready to take you away from him, to indulge in sweet whispers and rough touches throughout the night. No one deserved your praise, your love, your adoration. To take his sun away, the shining star in his seemingly everlasting life?

Any man or woman who so much as gazed upon your divine form would meet with the cold hands of death much sooner than fate designed.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

“Ma bien-aimée, could you carry me to my coffin?”

You could barely register the words Lestat spoke as his lips pressed against the top of your head. Sitting up from your current position, you tilted your head up to meet the others' gaze. His eyes seduced you entirely without even trying, your half lidded eyes holding nothing but love and adoration for the man below you. “Ain't ya’ got legs? I've been much rougher than this before Les.” Your voice rumbled in a slightly deeper pitch seeing as you'd just woken up.

Your nude bodies seemed to shift and brush over each other as you moved. The couches weren't the best places to have such intimate moments, but you knew Lestat didn't have a bed, even for show. You knew of a guest room not too far off from his own, and that maybe he could have one there, but you never got the chance to mention it to him.

Lestat made a choked sound as you pulled away from his body, a ripple of warmth shooting up his spine. You'd gently chewed against your bottom lip as you pulled out and away from Lestat, feeling him cling onto what he could before the connection was broken. “Bien-aimé, tu es grand même quand tu dors,” he muttered to himself.

“Want me to run ya’ a bath Les?”

“It is too close to sunrise, I will take one later.”

“You sure? Wouldn't want to get your coffin all dirty.” You managed to find undergarments which had nearly been ripped to shreds with how eager Lestat had been. He'd vented out his frustrations, how Louis seemed to be avoiding him for some time now after — what he described as — having a blissful night of exotic wonders in each other's embrace. Not that you minded Lestat laying with others, just as he didn't judge you for being as queer as you were.

Ever since Lestat pulled you in, Louis had grown uneasy around you, almost as if he disliked you. You'd spoken to him before, but he dismissed you or ignored you most times — caring not for how you looked, how you acted, nor where you were from. It was truly as if he didn't want anything to do with you.

“I can always buy a new one, but if it is your mess, I don't mind it reeking of you for a while.”

You couldn't tell if that was an insult or a compliment, but you didn't take it to heart. “Well Les, was wonder’n if you wanted to see a show tomorrow, or maybe perform tonight. Haven't heard you play on stage in a while now!” Your arms maneuvered themselves under Lestats' legs and back before he proceeded to hook his arms around your neck.

“I would love to, really, but I have pressing matters to get to tomorrow.”

“Oh.” You almost seemed sad at that moment as you carried Lestat up the stairs, and apparently it was shown on your face as well.

“Stop that, you look like a kicked puppy when you do that.”

“Do what?”

“That…that face. You pout, you give me those eyes, almost begging for something. I will spare time to perform, I promise, but...I have plans at the moment.”

That was the last conversation you could remember having with the vampire before he seemed to disappear like smoke. He stopped visiting, stopped showing around, and suddenly you were alone. It almost seemed wrong, to go out into town by yourself, running your business without seeing him flaunt around you or sit on his lap. It was odd. But you knew what he was, what he truly was. A creature of the night. A God compared to the mortal you were.

And all you could do is wish longingly for his return.

For his touch.

For his voice.

For his love.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

You looked down at yourself, feeling a little overdressed for the occasion – even though it was a wedding – suits and ties never truly felt like you. Lestat was the fashionista, so to speak. One who loved to dress you up like a doll, having dragged you from tailor to tailor after one glance at your wardrobe. Though he never really complained with the way your suspenders seemed to shape your ass perfectly – perfectly enough that he felt the need to cop a feel whenever you dawned them.

In your hand you fiddled the RSVP that had been recently slipped through your mailslot, thumb running over the engraving on the card and your heart throbbing within your ears. Yes, Louis had a very caring sister that adored you, but you felt odd appearing at the wedding after Louis made every attempt to cut you out of his life. “Grace invited you,” you muttered to yourself, hearing the yard flood with noise, now realizing just how many people occupied said space. “If they didn’t want you here, they wouldn't have invited you…” You tried to coach yourself as nervousness wracked the entirety of your body, but it only seemed to worsen with every passing minute.

Your normal social butterfly self seemed to turn into more of a wallflower. Most of the people there knew the family and the couple – whether they be relatives or childhood friends – but you felt like a stranger within it all. Just the oddball bumpkin who’d started running the club down the lane. Nothing special. The sun was still out, and at that moment you had doubts that Lestat would be around. It almost felt like you needed him to hold your hand, at least to settle your buzzing nerves. Unfortunately, last you heard was that Lestat left a rather unsavory impression on the family, or so they say.

Sitting in the farthest seat you could, you sat and waited, watching the couple say their vows and declare their love for eachother. You could almost hear the nagging of your Ma and Memaw now, asking when you were going to bring some pretty girl around one day rather than a sack of potatoes over your shoulder. Wondering when they’ll get grandchildren from you. Your eyes left the couple as they jumped the broom, clapping your hands in a celebratory fashion with a sad smile appearing on your lips. Would marriage even be a chance in your future? Children even?

As you reminisced on your somber past, the evening seemed to turn into night and with the night came blaring music, laughter, and talk. Everyone seemed so happy, yet you'd kept your eye out for the blonde man who'd yet to crash said wedding. You could only assume that the two men didn’t end up on a good note, at least on Louis' side, seeing as Lestat spoke of him often to you. He always spoke of what was troubling him, his woes and worries as you two would share the couch and sometimes even your own bed.

“There you are! Been lookin’ all over for you!” Your shoulders jumped in surprise, the wine you were sipping on hitting the back of your throat as you tried your best to clear it. Grace made her way over with her now newly wedded husband in tow, holding the hem of her dress so as to not drag it on the ground. “Oh don’t try to hide yourself now country boy, where have you been?” She gave a playful pinch against your arm, none too painful, but she seemed much stronger than she looked.

Rubbing against the area on you arm after placing down the glass, you offered a shy smile in return. “Well, I assumed I wasn’t…welcome here. Family is a joy to be around, but I wasn’t sure all of you enjoyed being around me, is all.” You made a small pained noise as the smaller woman called you out by your name and you were pinched once again – in the same spot no less. You glanced down and then to the female, head tilted to the side in a questionable fashion, as if wondering why she was beating you up so badly.

“Boy, don’t let Mamaw hear that! She loved having your company, much better than that French White Louis is doin…business with, something about him just don’t sit right with me. But you? You’re sweeter than a pot of honey, and Paul seems to have taken a liking to you!”

“More than what most could say.” Levi gestured to himself, knowing that Paul cared not for him or the fact that Levi seemed to have married with his sister.

“Paul’ll warm up…one day, though I think he is just be’n protective is all. His darling sister being carried away with someone he barely knows, I could understand his worries,” you chided. You knew all too well how that felt, the protectiveness and all. A fleeting memory if anything. “Not to mention he certainly doesn’t like the fact that you are not wholly faithful to the name of the Lord and Christ. You know how he is Levi, just be happy he didn’t do anything rash during the vows…” As you spoke to the married couple you could feel eyes practically piercing through the side of your head. Your gaze slowly drifted, flickering past guests and family friends that seemed to mingle between each other.

You blinked almost feverishly as you came to see Louis staring directly at you, bewildered and almost unsure if you were really there. He didn’t come to confront you – no – but instead saw your gaze match his before going back to the slice of cake he was indulging himself in while with his brother. Though that didn’t stop him from glancing over every now and then. “And please, Ma du lac doesn’t need to know what I thought. I was just worried is all. Louis doesn’t seem to like me all too much at the moment. I can’t find what needle got stuck in his ass, but the moment I do, I’ll yank that grumpy mug completely. That way he won’t be runnin around frown’n all the damn time.”

Grace practically cackled as such a thought, wiping away a stray tear before gently touching against the spot she pinched, though now you were on high alert in case she decided to bruise you anymore than she’s already done. “Well, know that you’re welcome here and that I’m very happy you came. Enjoy yourself country boy. Looks like you may have needed a day out anyways. You look like a lost puppy over here at the table! For someone who runs a club, I didn’t take you as the shy type of man. I can introduce you to some people if you’d like.”

“No need!” You quickly held your hands up and laughed it off. “I’m just not used to gatherings like this I guess. I’ve only been here for a few months, so being invited to your wedding – it wasn’t what I was expect’n. Anyhow, I can mingle by myself, I assure you. You two enjoy your night, Grace,” giving a short nod as a farewell to the female, you did the same to her partner. “– Levi.”

It wasn’t long before you found yourself far from most of the commotion, picking at the plate of chocolate cake that you happened to pick up.

“Didn’t expect you to be here…”

What was it with the Du lacs’ and their ability to scare you, while compromised with food or a drink no less? You cleared your throat before turning to Louis who didn’t look none too pleased to see your face. “Well, I said this before, I’ll say it again. I didn’t expect to be here neither. Your…Your sister invited me last minute. I was hesitant to even come, I didn’t want to…upset you more than I already have bein’ around here and all.”

Louis had always been a wildcard to you. He was a smart man, you knew that, but he was always shot down and put under the boot of the white man because of the color of his skin. You found it insulting that the world today would treat those with different colors and tints to their skin like stray dogs – tossing them scraps when they feel sorry, a sliver of a bone when they do something that pleases them, a collar…when they want someone loyal to work for them. But if they grew tired of them, found even the slightest bit of fight or defiance? They’d dispose of them or throw them in a hole they wouldn’t be able to dig themselves out of.

You knew discrimination when you saw it, heard it even. And you knew first hand how it felt, even with your own family looking down on you, not because of the way you looked, but because of what you presented yourself as. Louis had a name for himself, but respect was rarely a two way street when someone of a higher status spoke to him. But you saw yourself as equals, human beings. There was no ill will you bore towards him, but you couldn’t understand the ill will he held towards you.

Seeing as Louis hadn’t responded, you found yourself a bit awkward and out of place. “Seems I’ve…overstayed my welcome. Tell Paul I said hello, I'll get out of your hair.”

“Wait–” Suddenly you felt a hand grip against your arm, tugging you gently before a sigh came from the other. “Look, I…I don’t hate you man. Grace chewed me out good when I told her I didn’t care to see your face around. I guess I just – I don’t know, I haven’t been myself lately is all. I’ve been a little unfair to you. Hell, even Paul says you're a walking angel…or something like that? What I’m saying is, I judged you too harshly before gettin’ to know you.” In that moment, Louis spoke with sincerity in his voice, though all you could hope is that it came from the heart as well.

“If that’s your way of apologizing, I ain’t complaining.” There was a cheeky smile that appeared on your face before you gave the other a knowing look. “If you wanted to really say you’re sorry, I’d love to see an encore of – what did you call it? The ‘ABCDEFGs’, was it?”

“Oh god, now don’t you go start’n nothin man!” Louis playfully punched your shoulder and flashed his brilliant white teeth as a smile appeared against his face. A much better look than him always running around with a frown, is what you thought.

“Well, I ain’t never seen nobody tap their feet like that, ain’t had a clue that the Louis du lac knew how to put on a show!” You joked on.

“Yeah, and it’s a first – and the last time you see’n any of that. You lucky it’s Graces wedding, I’d have been halfway down the quarter the moment those shoes came out if it wasn’t.” Louis let out a bit of laughter as you two seemed to go back and forth. He assumed that maybe he just had a little too much wine or maybe one too many slices of cake, that the sugar and the alcohol was getting to him. How did he not notice how much of a joy it was to be around you?

You didn’t bring anything dreary or depressing to the table, nor did you try to flex wealth or name to him, even upon meeting him. Maybe he’d invite you around more, for dinners, maybe an outing if he had time between handling his own work. It was a moment between you two before both your laughters died down and the voices of others clambering about reached your ears. The space between the two of you was impregnated by a comfortable silence shared, though it seemed as if something was being held back.

“So how has–”

“So how have you–”

You both stopped and chuckled before you nodded your head towards Louis. “Go ahead, and don’t fight me on it. If you do, I’ll forget what I was tryin to tell ya in the first place. It happens a lot, believe me. I got it in my head, so–” You then gestured for him to continue as you had started a quick ramble, trying to keep your question at bay and at the forefront of your mind before it disappeared.

“Right…?” He spoke, squinting at you for a moment before shaking his head. “Was just wondering, how you and Lestat was doin’ is all. Curious.” It seemed as if he was just as uncomfortable as he was eager for an answer when saying his name. You couldn’t blame him. Lestat was on Louis like a tick on a dog before you appeared, and after? It seemed like you were his new attraction, though after whatever disagreement or argument they last had, Louis seemed to have given him the cold shoulder.

“Honestly?...I’m not much sure myself. Figure he done got tired of lil old me is all. Haven’t seen him in some time now, a few weeks or so. Nothing to get all down about really. Flaunted about how I made him laugh and..a little more, but nothin special Louis. Last I heard, Les was looking for you. Kept wondering why it seemed like you were hidin’ from him.” You spoke truthfully as Louis’ brows furrowed together in thought before he swatted his hand.

“I stopped doing business with him. I figured I’m good on my own as is. It just wasn’t a right fit is all. Better that he’s not around no more. I can actually focus for once.” Picking up the wine glass he once abandoned while speaking to you, he took a sip before continuing, pointing a finger at you with the same hand that held said drink.. “So, what was it that you wanted to ask me?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but clearly the thought had already gone like the wind. Louis took that silence into consideration before sighing.

“I’m gonna take a wild guess and say you forgot?”

“Slipped my mind a bit, yeah,” you say sheepishly, rubbing the back of your head as you watched Louis smile behind his cup, shaking his head at your antics. “If I can’t remember, it couldn’t have been that important!” Though truth be told, you had another question now rolling about in your mind. Did he know about what Lestat truly was under the guise of being this charming foreigner who stumbled across such a place?

“Anyways, besides still handling the club right now, I’ve been enjoying the daylight hours much more. Sometimes…club gets boring. Same band playing twice that week? Pass. Place won’t burn down or go under if I leave for a night or two to sleep. Been visiting, though everyone said you’d been busy or asleep for the most part. Guess stopin to smell the roses every once in a while ain’t too bad.”

Louis returned a small smile to you. “You seem like you’re doing alright for yourself,” he praised, patting you on the shoulder. “If you ever need any help, I’m around. And from what I know so far, Grace ain’t gon’ leave you alone no way. If she had it her way, you’d be another brother I’d have to take care of.”

“Take care of? Me? I think that would be my job if anything. And look, Levi is already lookin at me like I’mma steal his wife away. It ain’t my fault she likes my company so much! Well that and she’s been craving those sugar cookies I brought some months ago. Promised I’d share the recipe at one point or another.” Suddenly you made a pained face as Louis slapped your arm in the exact spot that Grace pinched you, twice.

“Those were yours?!”

Rubbing against your poor sore arm, you nodded.“Yeah? Look, I can’t cook actual meals without damn near burning down half the block. I’m more useless than a pair of tits on a horse in the kitchen! Baking, that’s when you can be messy on purpose and try all sorts of stuff in the kitchen.”

Louis sighed with a grin on his lips before looking at you, this time having claimed the knowing look. “Well, now you’ll have me pounding at your door whenever I have a sweet tooth. Could have sworn they were some sort of imported sweets or somethin like that. Grace nearly took my hand for the last one.”

“I don’t doubt that, but she’ll take more than just your hand iffen she hears you getting the recipe before her.”

“Oh you know she wouldn’t do anything that crazy…”

The two of you paused and then glanced at each other for a split second before bursting out into laughter. Louis was half kneeled over while holding an arm against his stomach all while you tried to keep your balance with one hand on the table directly behind you. It took about a minute or two for the both of you to calm down, Louis wiping a stray tear from his eye. “Didn’t mean to have you all tickled t..tonight,” you stated as you proceeded to calm yourself down.

“I think they put something in the wine, I’m telling you.” Louis held up his nearly finished glass before turning and hearing you yawn. It was getting late, but for him, this was most likely going to be an all night event.

“I should be headin back to my place. Been up all day as nervous as a bull in a nursery. Not a wink of sleep either. Was worried I’d be out of place or that I was overdressed, or that the invite slipped through the wrong mailslot.” You never normally had anxiety play such a big part in your life, but it had you running rampant all morning.

Unable to think properly, your room was still a mess after throwing clothes out of the closet and stressing about what looks best with your favorite pair of boots. Lestat would have known how to dress you accordingly – now that was something that you truly missed. He refused to let you go out looking like a hot mess, though he didn’t mind dragging that hot mess around a corner and doing whatever came to mind when he felt like it.

“I take the blame for that. Shouldn’t have made you feel like I hated you so much. You’re pretty alright…’country boy’.” There was once again a grin on Louis face at the teasing name, noticing the eye roll as you soon said your goodbyes. As Grace called for her brother and you snuck another swig of wine on your way out, your exit was cut short by someone stepping right in front of you. And to your surprise, it was Paul.

Paul.

A sweet boy, his mother calling him fragile while others outside the family called in delusional. You weren’t one to ever judge, and you weren’t starting either. You were one of the few people who listened to Paul truly, not from being a patron of the church, not being paid in anyway. You knew his mind was different from others, but he was still flesh and blood, still human.

He never hurt anyone, and to call him crazy was more of an insult to him, and would do no good. You never thought he was crazy, not once. Just blessed in a different way, though you couldn’t help but to have your concerns. When he spoke to himself, knowing he’s been in and out of the institution, and how everyone seemed to worry – it would keep anyone on edge. But everytime he spoke to you, he never gave you any trouble. He was loved, and you could only hope that he kept a good head on his shoulders.

“Paul! It’s nice to see you again! I was just askin–” Suddenly he grabbed both your arms, a worried look appearing on your face as you looked back at his own concerned form.

“Are you still talking to him? That..”

“Les? No..I ain’t spoke to him in sometime. Is everything…okay Paul?”

“Keep away from him.” He spoke in urgency. “Louis is being dragged by that man – no – that devil. He ain’t got his claws in you yet, he’s tryin. Don’t let him take your wings, your light, please.” Paul warned, though his grip was as if you were going to disappear if he even thought to let you go. “Are you faring well? The birds asked about you, about your mind.”

“I’ve been alright, I assure you Paul. I want to put your uneasiness to rest, I’m takin’ good care of myself and can only hope that you are too.” You placed your hands against his own arms, giving him a reassuring squeeze before seeing him nod slightly, letting his grip slide and hands fall to his sides. “Been thinkin about what I’mma do with myself. Only job I have is running the club currently, I’ve started taking breaks though. Feels good, clearing my mind a much as my body. Sometimes you need a break from the loud music and attention, it gets to be too much for some people – for me. Being in the company of a good book at the end of the day can sometimes cleanse the soul.”

It wasn’t until then that a thought came to mind and you dug in your pocket, pulling out a silver chain necklace with a dove and a cross charm dangling from it. “Meant to give you this a while ago. Was from my own. I thought that maybe you’d find better use in it than me.”

Paul blinked for a moment, looking at the necklace in slight awe and confusion as it puddled into his hand, the chiliness of the metal bringing slight goosebumps. He looked at the piece of jewelry before rapidly shaking his head, balling his hand around it before trying to stuff it back in your hands, “I can’t – I couldn’t, you need them. Close to your heart.”

“Paul, please...I don’t mind. They would probably want it this way anyhow, not like any of my family’s gon ask about it anyhow.” As Paul opened his hand to drop the necklace in your palms, he could no longer feel it as your hands wrapped around his one. When you pulled away, none of you had it in your hands. Instead, it was somewhat wrapped around his wrist, a little trick you learned some time ago.

“I have to go, Paul, but I’ll see you soon, alright? Tell Ma du Lac I said hello, and make sure that brother of yours behaves!” You called out as you started making your way out of the yard, having eaten and drank your fill, and knowing Paul had yet to realize the necklace was on his wrist. When he did, he’d do his best to give it back to you, but you’d be too far gone for that to happen.

As you finally made your escape, you listened to the band play and as the music got further and further as you walked your way home. It was some distance away, but you couldn’t trust yourself to drive – not like many people trusted you behind the wheel anyways. You assumed that you would simply resume the life you lived before Lestat – thinking that he may have left the city, found some other enjoyment elsewhere, but he didn’t seem like the type to do so. That didn’t sound like your Lestat.

Your thoughts paused for a moment and a frown appeared on your lips. He wasn’t truly yours. You didn’t know what relationship the two of you shared, though his sweet words always seemed to seduce you back into his arms.

But you could say the same, how whenever you swooned over him, he seemed to melt right into your arms, begging you to tell him what he may have missed from being busy the days prior, or to simply know what thoughts were running through your head. And you knew his tricks – that he was more than fully capable of reading your mind, yet he would ask you. He would sprawl across your body like a common house cat while you’d yammer on, combing your fingers through his blonde locks while he cooed in his french tongue.

Shaking your head and trying to rid of the bittersweet memory that left an odd taste in your mouth, instead savoring the night you spent speaking with Louis and his family, not knowing what sort of darkness would soon befall them once the sun rose.

The rest of your night was spent in the comforts of your room, spending a few hours cleaning, biding time, too exhausted to manage a club and too caught in your own thoughts to go chasing after Lestat like a dog. You knew where he stayed, but he was free spirited. Did what he want when he wanted. Did as he pleased. Who were you, a small country boy who stumbled upon a vampire – who would you be to try and stop him? You could have prowled in the nighttime to try and look for him, but at the end of the day, he was the vampire, and you?

Human.

Your days and nights turned normal, more than you really wanted. There was no thrill, no real spark other than the new people that appeared every now and then at the club, new faces, new performances. And as the name of your club spread throughout the south, your name grew in popularity. There was a time where you’d presented yourself on stage after weeks of new encounters, introducing yourself before the main performance came on. Apparently your pre-show talk had the audience in tears, laughing, clapping, and asking for more.

You had a way about yourself to somehow make the room that much brighter. Comedy was now your limelight, though it didn’t take a genius to know that things came to you naturally. It wasn’t normal for cubs at the time, but it was your business after all.

Outside the club, a few weeks after the wedding, you learned of Pauls’ passing. You stopped by to state your condolences to the family, and even happened to ask where Louis went. When you finally got in touch with Grace – seeing as his Mama had nothing good to say about him – she said he’d done ran off. Whether it be the guilt of not being able to protect his brother from themself or because of all the sudden burdens he felt collapse onto him all at once. You knew Louis was probably devastated, but his sudden disappearance? It had Lestat written all over it, though you had once again heard nothing from one or the other, so what was the point in chasing after a ghost?

The next few months, Lestat seemed to fade into the back of your mind, nearly forgotten. Your days grew busier and the months grew bitter. Life went on as if the vampire never existed. Grace and yourself wrote weekly when you didn’t have time to visit and vice versa. She’d attended one of your shows when she had the time, with Levi in tow and the two even agreed that you were quite the comedian, though they weren’t much club goers.

Of course it wasn’t an every night thing and you had most definitely started to enjoy the mornings where you could occupy yourself and destress from the night before. Having to be around people, entertain, greet, drink, talk with others everyday got tiring real fast. If you didn’t catch a break or have a little ‘you’ time, people would start seeing a not-so friendly side of you that only showed up if you were woken up rudely. Overstimulated, if you will.

There were nights where you grew lonely, where the words on a page couldn’t serve much as companions. Not that Shakespere was the best partner in crime, but it did some to escape the dry and plain days that left you bored itching for something new. You weren’t one to walk the strip, not with the people that normally ran past those parts. You had no problem with the girls, but at the moment, none seemed to fit your taste, and none too many men were as open as you were.

You got the occasional gossip from one Jane to the other John – how people questioned the way you dressed, the way you spoke, how you acted between man and woman and who’s attention you’d seek out the most. You didn’t let such a thing get to your head, whether it was discrimination for which way your pendulum swung or otherwise.

But it didn’t seem to stop trouble from coming your way.

Occasional threats in the mail, rocks thrown at your windows in the dead of night, your car tires being slashed and car scratched to hell, yet no one ever knew how it happened or who did it. None of your neighbors knew, turning a blind eye and moving on. Typical. Getting replacements weren’t much of a problem, not when the club paid most of the bills, but it was a constant reminder of how people saw you, and how they would treat you like any other they found to be different.

The worst of it happened when you were stuck walking home one night, all by your lonesome and of course you just happened to stumble upon a group of soldiers, sailors – whoever they were – who’d either heard about you or seen one of your shows. A quiet walk turned into a limp home, bruises adorning your body and a soreness coming from your ribs. You knew better, knew how to defend yourself and de-escalate things when the heat rose.

Unfortunately you’d been dealt the shit hand. Having been up against two, you may have had better chances, but five men that were drunk off their asses? There was no chance for you, and at that rate, it was better to cover your head and tuck while they dealt whatever repressed rage onto your body. Nearly gave you a shiner — instead delivering you a rather nasty gash through your left brow. Thankfully your body took more blows, but the soreness would just be another thing to sleep off.

After all, it was just another Friday night for you – and another one-liner for your comedy act.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

“Another champagne for you Mr…”

“Nah, not right now, but thank you Miss Rosey, though I think the boys in booth four might need another round. And if they are giving you any trouble–”

“Oh don’t worry, you’ll know if they’ll cause trouble for me!” The server gave you a mischievous smile and a wink before she made her way over to the designated booth while you were left to your lonesome in your own private booth. You’d been listening to the band play for about half an hour before you started to tune it out, the noise fading into the background as you inked paper on folded knee. You’d started writing after some time, whether it was your thoughts or not, you weren’t quite sure. The words flowed like music, maybe more, but it was hard to decipher yourself. They were just words after all, blurbs, word vomit that you needed to get out before the thoughts left you. As you were feverishly writing, line after line, you heard your name in an almost questionable fashion. The first time it seemed to be a blur in between the music, maybe just a buzzing in the back of your head.

The second time seemed to focus you back to reality, the music coming back as loud and as blaring as it was before. Your head turned up, brows furrowing as a man stood in front of the circular table that separated the half circle booth and themselves. “Sorry, I…I was a little too focused on myself, need something?” The paper on which you wrote on was slipped and closed into a small booklet that you now settled on the table. The man that called out your name was not someone you’d seen before or even met – and you were damn good with names and faces, a little quirk that always kept people on their toes.

“I was just wondering if you were the owner of said establishment, heard a bunch of people yapping about it so I came over to chat was all!” He held a hand out to you before finally introducing himself. “Name’s Viktor Sawyer, new around here.”

“I can tell,” you replied, gripping his hand before shaking it. “You don’t sound like you’re from here no way. Where’d you hightail it from kiddo?”

“Kiddo?” He laughed, “You look just as young as me, maybe younger. But me? I’m from upstate. Took a heap load of train rides, boat down the Mississippi, ended up here after an all day ride in the back of a box car after my last ticket was stolen.” The man seemed to joke at the end of his sentence, but it was all too real for how easy it was for some people to get pickpocketed. “Mind if I?...” Viktor then gestured to the booth in which you rolled your head and patted against the booth.

“Oh, I don’t mind, but the ghost might find it pretty rude if you give them an unwanted lapdance.” As you shrugged and looked at the young man, they stared back at you with confusion before a small chuckle left their lips, understanding that you were simply poking fun at the moment.

“I’m sure the ‘ghost’ wouldn’t mind it at all. Probably the most action than they’ve had in some years, yeah?” He joked right back, sending a quirky smile of your own onto your face. It'd been sometime since someone tended to match your energy, not that you were complaining.

“Champagne?” You offered up, tilting your glass towards the side. “And you can't just say you’re from upstate and expect me not to be curious. Down here, we ain't much for keeping secrets, and I ain't got no ill will towards strangers, so don't be shy.” Gesturing for one of the server girls, you two would be sharing words for the majority of the night.

Now, your club was as thriving as all get up, but there was always a drawback as it was back in the days. Only certain people could get in, people with money, people with a name. No old Sam on the street could just waltz their way in, it was almost prestigious in a way. Not like you cared much for the highlights, seeing as you came to New Orleans a simple man with ideas of starting new. Of making your name for yourself. It almost happened overnight – it did happen overnight.

It wasn’t to be expected, but it was a pleasant surprise. The thought of the blonde vampire, creature of darkness, the man who seduced you with not only words, but his entirety…he’d done so much for you. And all you did was make him laugh. A joyful, boyish, carefree laugh as if he hadn’t laughed in centuries. True laughter, pure, not from a cruel dead or joke – not to spite someone – it was simply the joy he amounted by being with you.

Beyond the past thoughts of Lestat, you indulge yourself in Viktor Sawyer, a businessman from New York. After getting a few drinks in him, he spoke about his travels and the unsavory events that came with it. He was a workaholic as much as he was an alcoholic. He was looking for work, a partnership more like but he didn’t specify what. He had been twice divorced, let slip out that he seemed to dance to a different tune – not that you minded – but three hours passed and he was drunk on booze and wine.

He was a good six foot tall man, granted, he was a handsome fellow. Piercing green eyes, slick, short blonde hair, the suit he wore looked too tight on him. At one point the two of you were laughing at nonsense yet you were still somewhat sober, having only sipped through a glass or two while Viktor had ordered something a little stronger – had enough money to pay past the bill and even laid out a grand tip for the waitress.

Which led you to where you were now, roaming the streets of the quarter with a drunk businessman on your shoulder. It wasn't a great look for you as allegations and rumors were soon to spread, but at such a late time in the night others would probably be as drunk as Viktor was. His words were slurred but it seemed he was trying to flirt with you, hand running down the side of your neck and down your chest, doing his best to fiddle with the buttons on your white dress shirt.

And with him unable to tell you where he was staying, your only other option was to either leave him to some mugger or – to be a gentleman and let him sleep off the drinks for the night under a roof.

You just wished that it didn’t have to be yours.

By the time you’d gotten through the front door, Viktor draped over your own body like he was trying to be worn, you sighed heavily. “Alright Vik, gonna get you some water, let ya rest till the morn.” You were somewhat tired, seeing as your nights and days blurred and your body always needed a good 12 hours before it could get used to your odd schedule. You watched as the businessman seemed to flop himself on the couch with a bit of your guidance as well, reaching up to try and tug you down with him, “Vik–”

“Ain’t gotta be like that sweetheart, just returning the favor!” Viktor had already stripped off whatever overcoat was on his body, his breath reeking of alcohol as it wafted against your face. It caused you to inwardly cringe at the smell, but you knew the man was drunk off his ass. You weren’t much in the mood either, not like you’d seen much action in some time. But the man was intoxicated as hell and you weren’t interested. He leaned in close, trying to hold your face before you snatched yourself away.

“Viktor, come on buddy. I can’t do this, believe me. You’re a…nice guy and all but uh…”

“Oh baby please, you were lookin’ at me like I was a damn meal back at the club. Don’t tell me ya’ kept me laughing just for kicks?” He slurred, leaning in once more and almost placing his entire body weight onto you. Is that what he thought? That you wanted to get him into bed, even though it simply seemed like you two were just having a good time as newly acquainted friends. “Come on babes, you know how to have a fun time, right?”

Your eyes rolled as you helped Viktor onto his feet once more, watching as he stumbled to try and finger your shirt off. Even as you led him into your room and pushed him onto the bed, he sat back with a cocky grin upon his face. “Nuff with the nicknames ‘Slick’. Imma get you some water, now lay ya’ ass down. I brought you here because you could barely tell me where you were stay’n. Now, cool down before I do what my ma would do and beat the sense out and back into ya’.”

It was only then that when you turned around to walk away, your arm was grabbed and suddenly you were pulled into his lap. Yes, you could handle yourself against the man, not afraid of him at the least. You’d dealt with much scarier than a horny, boozed up businessman.

Scoffing, you felt his sloppy movements of his arm wrapping around your waist and a hand at the front of your throat. No wonder he was twice divorced with such a limp wrist on him. You didn’t care about how he seemed to whisper in your ear or try to kiss against your neck. It only made you retract, snatching yourself away again before hearing Viktor almost whine out. “Baby–”

“I ain’t ya’ baby, Viktor,” you stated plainly, back towards the man before continuing. “And don’t make me regret doing the right thing.”

“Taking me home?”

“Taking you in rather than leave’n you out of the street!” It was then that you felt Viktor cop a feel, in which case something in you turned. You whipped around, quick movements before your hands pinned Viktors against the bed, staring him down as you hovered over his body, straddling his waist as you kept him from moving or trying to make another move on you. Staring him down, you did your best to show some sort of intimidation, but the sudden actions seemed to spur the drunkard on, biting his bottom lip in amusement.

“Got no problem with you being on top either, I can play that game with you!”

You groaned out in annoyance, feeling the mans’ growing arousal as he tried to roll his hips up into yours. “Tired of your shit Viktor, get it together.” Pushing him back onto the bed with no sympathy for his drunken stupor you made your way out of the room, leaving the man to call your name as he sprawled upon the bed. You could hear him calling as you slipped into the kitchen and instead of fixing him anything to help him sober up, you splashed your own face. When did you get so strict, so antsy? You hadn’t had a night to yourself in some time. And for someone to be in your bed, to want to indulge in filthy pleasure, who were you to deny him? He was good looking, but drunk off his ass. And from the sounds of it, he wanted to be the one to lay you out for the night. You definitely weren’t interested.

Couldn’t seem to figure out if something was wrong with you at the time. Not to say you weren’t flattered by the other advances, before and after he was sloshed, but you felt nothing in retaliation. You simply had a good laugh, a few drinks, you hadn’t meant to charm him or give off that you wanted to sleep with him. Or did you? Lonely nights in an empty bed, an empty home no less. You weren’t the least bit interested in the whorehouse, not as if you didn’t care for the ladies themselves – calling you sweetheart and whatnot – but it wasn’t your current taste.

Splashing water onto your face, you calmed your racing thoughts down. Maybe one night wouldn’t hurt. Maybe something like this would help your mood from the normal drag. You were afraid you’d end up all mugfaced and mopey like Louis if you didn’t have time to truly enjoy yourself without it being a job or forcing yourself to do so. As water dripped down your face, your thoughts were split between “what would change in one night,” and “I don’t even like him like that! I’ll just sleep it off on the couch”.

Your mind seemed to go quiet just as Viktors calls for you went silent. Only then did you thank the higher powers that he finally passed out or gave up on his attempts to get you back there. Stripping off your own overcoat and walking back into the main room of your home, you dropped said cloth on the floor only to stand there frozen, stiff as a board once your head moved to look up rather than at your feet.

“Lestat?”

Your lungs seemed to lose air as you stared at him, confused as much as you were shocked. You questioned yourself, not knowing if you made him up in your fit of loneliness or if he was actually there, in the dim lighting of the room. He stood there, at the bottom of the steps that lead to your room but also against the wall that was directly across from the doorway of the kitchen.

That flawless face, chiseled jaw, god given face, wavy blonde hair you ran your fingers through more times than you could remember, his broad yet sculpturesque physic, those blue pools you’d get lost in no matter the time of day – it was him. In all his glory. It was only then that you finally came to your senses and realized that there was red dripping from his hands, not only coating his fingers, but it was dragged over his mouth – smeared – and slung across his shirt like a work of art. There was an almost unreadable look in his grey-blue hues, ones that could and did challenge the most beautiful of days, shaming the sky in comparison.

He didn’t move, almost like a statue, but with – what you could only assume was blood – slowly dripping down his fingers and onto the floor, it reminded you that you were not frozen in time. That he was there in all his glory, missing his normal presten overcoat that would go beautifully with whatever suit or undershirt he chose to wear, his blonde wavy hair let down, a bit unkempt compared to how neat and groomed he normally kept himself, but his body was still as water, as unmoving as a statue.

Almost.

You could barely tell if he was breathing, the stillness of his body startling you as you trekked carefully but moved in closer to him. It was only then when you inched towards the vampire did you notice the small trembles, the minute quivering of his hands that slowly clenched into bloody fist, nails digging into his palms. His chest rose and expanded as he took a breath in through his nose, jaw tightening as he stared you down. A sliver of fear seemed to jump up your spine at the subtle movement, but it didn’t stop you from slowly closing in. You were a mere stride away from standing directly in front of him, but before you could call out his name again, like a ticking time bomb – he exploded.

“You fool!” He roared out, causing you to nearly stumble back onto your ass. There was a look of anger written all over his face that was once completely unreadable. “You! You are pathetic! Ungrateful! Rien qu'une plaisanterie vivante, affamée d'amour et d'attention!” A loud crash could be heard as he used his strength to knock over a display, the power behind his hand flinging the rather sturdy and wooden case into the wall across the room as it caught air. Wood chips splintered every which way, glass shattering and sprinkling onto the floor. Your eyes flicked from the damage to the man who stood before you, chest now heaving as he started spewing curses in his french tongue and pointing at you.

You could barely understand him, though a few curses here and there from what he taught you, but you were more confused than scared at the moment. Fear was in the back of your mind, not as present as the sudden concern. “Les! What are you on about?”

“Espèce d'idiot! Espèce d'idiot de campagne, de petit ver de terre! Do not play dumb with me!” Lestat proceeded to call you out by your name as he spewed what you could only depict as insults.

Suddenly he started laughing.

His seemingly harmless chuckles escalated into full blood cackles, the man laughing harder and harder till it seemed almost hysterical. His pupils were dilated, fangs bared with blood dripping slowly down his chin, and his hand shaking as he continued to spew fire in your direction. “You think that you can replace me? De copier quelque chose qui ne peut pas être remplacé! Do you know who I am chéri?” Lestat questioned, almost softly before his tone roared out once again. “Do you know what I am!?”

“Lestat, what happened? You come in here all covered in blood after being away for this long, yelling at me?”

The vampire could not hear you, not over his constant ranting and yelling and french tongue that seemed to go on, venom seeming to be laced in every consonant and syllable. “After everything that I have given you! Comme mon cœur bat pour toi! Et pourtant tu essaies de faire en sorte qu'un salaud blond essaie d'être moi?! HA! Your funniest attempt at a joke yet! To stoop so low!”

“Les…” You were now more concerned than ever, watching as he stared pacing as if to restrain himself at the moment, his nails having swiped at the wall, ripping up the wallpaper and digging into the bricks that were settled underneath, carving into the harsh material while his hand remained unscathed.

“You are just like any other! Pitoyable! L'excuse la plus triste pour un homme! Rien qu'un chien qui a soif et aboie pour en savoir plus! Tellement impatient que vous ayez essayé de trouver quelque chose dont il n'y en a qu'un!” Lestat cackled as he seemed to move back and forth, looking towards you with a predatory gaze before looking at the floor, shaking his head and almost growling. Restraining himself.

“Les!” You tried again to call out for him, but he did not waver.

“Humans, you are all the same…! You are all ungrateful, insatiable pests! Meat for the slaughter and lambs for wolves! Je devrais vous vider et regarder la vie pitoyable que je vous ai fournie clignoter brièvement dans votre cerveau idiot..what was I thinking! You! You?!” He pointed at you once again, the manic grin never leaving his face. “J'ai eu pitié d'un chien qui n'a aucune loyauté!”

“Lestat! Calm–”

“Good for nothing! A dull piece of entertainment! A clown above all clowns! Une pitoyable excuse de fils! No wonder your kin left you high and dry!”

“Lestat!–”

“Une pitoyable excuse pour un humain! Who would ever want you anyways! Laper goulûment ce qui reste d'une bonne chose! An ungrateful mutt!” His voice came out raw, almost hurt as he overwhelmed your own voice, giving you no space to speak.

“Les–”

“N'étais-je pas assez bien pour toi?! Je ne te suffisais pas! Too boring for the great comedian you came to be?! Est-ce pour cela que vous avez choisi de vous coucher avec une excuse pathétique pour un remplacement!?”

“Le–”

“Je ne suis pas assez bien pour toi!? Assez bon pour garder seul votre amour seul?! Is that too much to ask for!?”

“LESTAT!”

Your voice seemed to boom with sudden authority, your hands finding his wrist before pushing his body back into the wall, practically sandwiching him between that and your own body. The room that was once filled with the rampant yelling and swears of French from Lestat and your desperate attempts to call out for him were now silenced. It was now only the pants between the both of you as his was from his outburst, you, from the sudden burst of adrenaline that seemed to flow through your veins. The two of you stared each other down, getting lost in one another's gaze.

Lestat had never heard you so demanding, never having raised your voice in such a way, not even in a playful manner towards him. You’d never been rough with him, and even in bed he would have to coax you to handle him with something other than tenderness in the mix. Your grip on his wrist was enough to bruise any other human, but the strength you’d projected was enough to stun the vampire out of pure shock.

The once tense and chaotic air calmed as the two of you stood in silence, you waiting for him to calm down and get he was waiting on you to yell at him, attempt to hit him, hurt him for the destruction and his outburst. His temper was unruly, unpredictable like the weather sometimes, but he'd never flared up in front of you in such a way.

But instead of harsh words or screams back in his face after all he said and done – most you could barely understand – you'd slowly shifted your hands. Moving from holding his wrist, up his arms and shoulders and to his face, cupping it gently, while the same concerned look lingered in your loving gaze. “Les…speak to me. Here I was, worried sick about you for weeks on end, and now you come here? Covered in blood and yellin who knows what?”

You did not scold him or respond with hatred. You spoke in a soft tone he almost didn’t recognize, as if trying to coax a scared and wounded animal.

He didn't respond, instead staring at you with mild confusion. Why were you treating him so kindly, even as he looked and acted as if he was two seconds away from ripping your throat out and tearing apart your innards.

Lestats' form looked disheveled, his blood coated dress shirt now somewhat torn, the collar ripped and stretched down, exposing the skin on his right shoulder and arm as the cloth dangled pitifully. A mess he was and yet you held him so gently, spoke to him so kindly, so sickeningly sweet in his eyes.

Your foreheads touched as you leaned in, noses brushing as you claimed his attention yet again, seeing the dazed expression, almost as if he couldn't believe what was happening. You knew the blood on him was from upstairs, that your guest was most likely dead from the bloody footsteps that lead down the main room.

Suddenly his lips lifted in a snarl. “You smell of him, that drunkard—”

“I helped him for the night. Was bein’ kind and all. We had a drink, but I didn't feel anything for him Les.” It was your turn to interrupt him, thumb brushing against his cheekbone as blood stuck to your own palms. You could tell that he was angry, possessive even, but you'd never seen it to this existent. Only then, after holding him for so long did you realize his face was ice cold, blood on his mouth but his body void of warmth.

“Did you not feed on him Les? You're colder than a bare ass in winter.”

Even that seemed to keep him shocked, how you noticed the little things, that the warmth of fresh blood did not flow through him. Only you would pick up such minute details at that moment, only you paid him that much attention. “I cared not for his putrid blood.” He muttered, your gaze holding his own as he wished to look away. He wasn't embarrassed, but it seemed as if he was almost flustered, confused even as his brows pinched.

“You haven't changed much. Still the magnificent…unpredictable Lestat.” You knew now why his anger flared up, the sudden appearance and unprecedented feelings. He didn't like the idea of someone else in your bed, someone who seemed to resemble him – even though you didn't see the two looking any more similar than a black and a white horse. “Lovely, I wasn't gonna lay with him if that's what ya’ think. He wasn't my type anyways,” you attempted to laugh, though it came out as more of a sad half winded chuckle.

“I apparently only have space in my heart for the man who always laughs at my jokes…no matter how bad they are.” Your own gaze lingered towards his stained lips before glancing back up. “For the French man who came to me at the bar, listening to me yap up a storm. Who lied with me in the field and gave me hope for a future…one I thought I would never be worthy of, just as I feel unworthy of the love that man gives me and shows…" As corny as you normally were, this was something you wanted the vampire to understand. That as a human, fragile being that could be killed by his hands, you still loved him. Even now. Even as you tried to forget about him, to think of him as nothing but a dream for as long as he was gone, your heart yearned for him dearly.

As those last words tumbled from your mouth, your lips crashed into each other. It would be humorous to say that sparks flew, but there was a sudden fire that seemed to flare inside of you. It was bound to the both of you, the further in you two got, the hotter and brighter that flame got until it was a raging inferno. The kiss went from being one of longing to a much sloppier, needy entanglement. The metallic taste didn’t bother you, barely phasing you. Your hands went from cradling his face to holding him, threading through his hair and one lowering to his waist to keep his body close. In retaliation, Lestat held your own face, the sticky blood smearing onto the side of his face. You didn’t dare pull away as you felt the nips at your bottom lip, his tongue wrestling with your as your lungs were slowly deprived of oxygen. You mumbled his name against his lips, subtly pulling away to find air, but Lestat refused to let you. He almost let out a possessive growl that rumbled in his chest, almost unnoticeably as he didn’t need air and wanted to soak you up in every way, shape, and form.

By the time you’d been let go, he barely let you move away, foreheads touching yet again as your lungs did their best to regain what was lost. You were panting and lightheaded, a thin string of saliva connecting your bottom lip to his, swept away with his tongue. There were no words shared at that moment, lost in each other's loving gazes as your hearts were racing, thundering like wild horses and unruly storms. There was a twister of emotions swirling within the both of you, and yet you simply couldn’t put them into words.

Your lips pressed against his briefly, only to start peppering kisses onto his skin. Against the side of his lips and down his jaw, against his bloody throat, down to his collar and shoulder. You left a trail, admiring him, pampering him, spoiling him with your love and adoration like you normally did. Something you never strayed from. Your kisses kept, from his shoulder down his exposed arm, all the way down to his blooded knuckles in which you pressed your lips to as if he was royalty. “Les,” you muttered against his hand, watching as he seemed to shudder.

The look in your eyes had shifted to something more, a desire, a hunger. He could feel your sudden desire, blazing like the fire that roared within you.

You both wanted each other, needed each other.

Bad.

“Lestat–” The vampire in question hushed you with his finger, tilting you chin before pressing a kiss against your lips yet again. When he pulled away, he practically purred out.

“One moment mon chéri..” His voice was barely above a whisper as you chased after his lips, whining as he slipped away from your hold and moved up the stairs. When he was suddenly out of sight, you were left standing alone and wishing for him to come back in your arms, but you would be patient, just one last time. But now that you were here, you were like an excited puppy who’d just been told to sit.

“Course he done got me all riled up, then just…” You gestured towards the stairs as you spoke to yourself, sighing and wiping the blood away from your mouth with the back of your hand. You could only imagine the mess in the room if Lestat had dealt with Viktor. The amount of blood and the fact that he didn’t drink from him was rare, to say he had a distaste for someone's blood when you knew he fed upon others and sapped their life away as easy as a snap of your fingers. And yet he was careful every time he drank from you. Tender, making sure you didn’t pass out or lose consciousness, listening to your heart rate and showing much restraint to not be as greedy as he wanted with you.

Even he knew that if you egged him on, it would be that much harder to contain himself. Fortunately you didn’t have to wait long before your name was called, which caused you to scurry up the stairs so fast that you almost face planted by the time you got to the top, grabbing onto the railing before turning into your room.

It wasn’t as bad as you first thought, the bed looked perfectly fine beside the covers being pulled here and there, but you could see the blood seeping through the carpet on the opposite side of the bed. It was only then that you heard a small whistle, looking over towards the side where the bathroom was. Lestat stood in the doorway, shirtless, the blood on his face and down his neck having been rinsed and wiped off, beside the obvious smudges still left on his skin. Though there was one thing that stood out rather boldly against his skin.

Perfectly painted onto his lips was a rather glossy – oily even – rich scarlet color that popped in comparison to his pale skin.

Not blood.

No.

Lipstick.

He chuckled as he watched your head tilt to the side rather curiously, thankful that he couldn’t feel the heat that traveled to your face. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you mon chéri,” Lestat started as he slowly made his way over to you, almost as if he was prowling. Before you knew it, he’d pushed you back onto the bed, straddling your lap with your face now in his hands. You melted at the feeling, almost as touch starved as he was for you. Your hands now placed on his own waist you pulled him closer, both of your bodies buzzing with a newfound arousal.

Lestat leaned closer to your face once more, head tilting as he captured your lips once more. A hum escaped you as you could taste him yet again, letting out an audible groan as your groins rolled into one another. You wanted him badly. You were smitten with the man, his voice, his touch, the need to have him in your arms and in your bed, it was a greed you wanted to give into.

Another whine left you as his lips left your own, moving to kiss the corner of your mouth and then your cheek. Your jaw was next, his lips pressing against every inch or your jawline and even underneath. He’d kissed down your throat as you tilted your head up, exposing more of yourself to him as he continued his path. Lestat had to stop himself from wanting to prick your throat. He could hear the blood just below your skin, feeling the heat it gave off as it ran, how good it would taste after straying away for so long.

You couldn’t control the moan that left your lips as he showered your throat in almost endless kisses, down your collar and against the crooks of your neck. By the time he’d finished and met with your dazed face again, he seemed very proud of his work.

As your half lidded eyes glanced down at Lestats face, you could see him practically glowing, as radiant as ever, even with the smudged lipstick on his lips.

Though it was your appearance that seemed to get him even more eager to take what was his.

In a flash, you two were on each other, magnetized as your hands groped and felt against one another. Clothes were ripped off, shredded, torn, thrown in this direction and another, but neither of you cared for the mess. You only cared for each other, like you were the only two left in the world. Rolling around on the bed, you ended up locking your arms under Lestat, keeping him in place as you leaned down and assaulted his throat, marking him up the best you could.

You knew he liked it rough, but it was hard to do so when you practically worshiped him. It wasn’t an act, did. But you missed him like the stars and the moon and you wanted him to know that deep down. That you loved him, whether he reciprocated or not. You wanted to be selfish, keep him in your arms forever. And as selfish as it was for you, you only hoped that he wanted the same, even as you were weaker than the vampire himself.

The guttural noises left Lestat as you bit down near the crook of his neck, hands slipping down to his bare thighs as it hooked onto your hips. His head was thrown back into the pillow that rested under his head, blonde hair sprawled out behind his head as he called your name once more, feeling as needy as ever. “Don’t tease me mon chéri, I’ve been too long without you…”

Grunting out, you felt his fingers against the back of your head as you proceeded to leave marks against his throat, hickies and dark bruises, but not deep enough to break or to draw blood like you wished. When you pulled away to look at your work, his hand caressed the side of your face and he watched as you leaned into the feeling pressing your lips against the side of his palm before looking down at him with a sense of yearning. A longing that’s been stirring inside you since the first week you missed him.

“Normally you are the chatterbox instead mon garçon de la campagne. Why the sudden silence?” Even after the intrusion, outburst and overall assault that happened not too long ago, he enjoyed your voice. How you praised him and cared for him so. It was unorthodox that you weren’t speaking, even now. Not to say that he didn’t like your brutish noises as you indulged yourself, but it was one of the qualities that made him attracted to you.

It wasn’t until that statement did you look Lestat dead in the eyes and spoke. “Doll face, I love you to the ends of the world and back, but right now I just want to hear you scream my name.” That seemed to stun the blonde once again. “And I got better uses for ma’ mouth right now. Not enough time to talk.” Your voice shifted towards a lower town as you dipped down to assault Lestat's chest, one of your favorite places to spoil.

As the vampire's voice rang within the room, his back arching off the bed as you did your best to mark up his chest in bite marks of all sorts. You found great joy in seeing his body react in such a way as your mouth enveloped one of his nipples, tracing your tongue around the sensitive nub before using the edge of your teeth to tug, his body pressing up against yours and nearly lifting off the bed itself.

But Lestat wanted more. He’d been away for too long and was tired of the foreplay. “I…I am not a virgin,” he panted out. “I can handle myself just fine.”

“Let me treat ya’ like it anyways baby doll…”

And as his eyes rolled to the back of head, your mouth loved on and against every part of his body, your fingers finding spots that made his body curl and mewl in weakness as he wanted more. The slow and tender you fed him lit his entire body up in the best way imaginable, his voice loud enough for anyone in the quarter to hear.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

Your back ached as you sat up from the bed, the stinging sensation of Lestat’s nails running down skin lingered even hours after wearing him down the best you could. The beauty in question rested right beside you, curled up in the sheet and his head nuzzled up against your side.

You knew that he wasn’t asleep, but simply closed his eyes to briefly rest. He’d have to return home soon, to rest inside his coffin and to dispose of the body that was unfortunately still slumped against the side of the bed. In the heat of things, you barely cared that there was a dead person mere feet away from you as Lestat was the only thing in your mind through the night. As you made your way off the bed and into the bathroom, your lower waist was just as roughed up from the rather crushing gripped Lestat had with his legs clinging onto you with such force.

You could barely remember how many times you made him cum that night, but it was enough that your own hips were starting to bruise. His voice calling out your own was like a symphony of its own, causing a cheeky smile to appear on your lips. By the time you’d gotten into the bathroom and stepped in front of the mirror, you were shocked. On not only your lips but splayed all over your cheek, neck, and even covering the majority of your collarbone was lipstick stains from Lestat.

It hadn’t registered back then how much he’d done, but now it was clear as day, he marked you. You could remember him muttering how he would erase any trace of that drunk businessman, especially if there were any traces of him on you. Your neck itself was sensitive as all getup, especially after Lestat fed off you that night. No wonder you felt light headed and weak on your feet. “God, I hope this can wash off,” you muttered to yourself, though you weren’t opposed to the idea of Lestat doing this more often.

“I doubt it will…” Lestat stepped in behind you in all his nude glory before hugging against your waist and placing his chin against your shoulder. “And if it does…I’ll do much worse than this.” A grin appeared on his face as his looked at you through the mirror, watching as you replicated the same grin. For the moment, the two of you stayed there, swaying in one another arms before the vampire spoke up. “I..I am cursed with my maker's temper…I meant no harm. I saw that man in your bed when I came to surprise you and–”

“No need for an apology Les…I missed you too.” Turning your head, you kissed against his hair before sighing. “You were gone for so long..thought you’d up and left. Wasn’t gonna bother you no way if you didn’t wanna see me.”

Lestat stared at you in silence for the longest before shifting his gaze elsewhere. “I have a good reason for why I was gone. I did not merely abandon you…but there is someone I have to speak with you about.”

“Who?” There was only one other person that you could think of at the top of your head, especially with the series of events that had happened in the past.

“Louis…”

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a/n : who let me cook?? Anyways, thank you for reading so far! Replies and repost are appreciated! Thank you for reading!

please do not repost my work on other sites! thank you! - @that-one-malereader-enthusiast

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