#even like her and d/ck
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post n52 babs i hate you i hate you i hate you i hate you
#GIVE ME ORACLE BACK OR GIVE ME DEATH#like she moved on she grew from her experience she evolved past her grief#SHE WAS LITERALLY SO COOL#and now she's actually just tech support?not even that#she justs checks in on the batboys when they like act off during patrol#i hate it heeeere#i will never be shutting up about it#even like her and d/ck#i LIKE them in the 90's comics#but they are sooo boring in the current runs istg#barbara gordon#dc critical#oracle dc#batgirl#second's comic corner
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For me, Sol, didnt do anything that bad as all think. Like, he killed one person and what now lol. Like Anakin killed a dozens of children and nobody takes shit lmao. Sol thinks that he was doing the right thing. And I kinda didnt liked the twins so…
He made a series of mistakes and he clearly was carrying that guilt and shame w him all that time. we can see this from his reaction all the way til the finale (he never draws his saber until the situation calls for it, still sees good Mae, was the first one saying he will face the council, and still wants to tell Osha the truth and face the consequences). His mistakes make him a complex character and w LJJ amazing performance he became an unforgettable character to me. Idc if ppl hate him I can just ignore them or block them if they are being annoying in my posts.
** long rant about what actually pissed me off under the cut ⚠️
I'm jsut tired of this show as a whole so im just taking Sol and Jecki out, read my one fav fanfic of them, and create their own version in my head that has nothing to do w the show anymore.
However, if you want to see a good depiction of a well-intentioned yet emotionally flawed and morally ambiguous father figure who then died at the hand of his adopted daughter, I suggest you watch "Hunt". It's a movie directed by LJJ back in 2022. It has its own issues but the ending of that movie got me more emotional than this shit show lol.
** What actually pissed me off about this show is the way the finale threw Sol's whole arc up until this point into the trash. Suddenly he started yapping about the vergence, which was not established until ep7 (and in ep7 his main concern was the twins' safety, not that bs). Suddenly he wanted to shoot down Mae now even tho he didn't wanna fight her and was trying to save her on Khofar. Suddenly he didn't want to face the council now and tried to justify his action (while he clearly was so sorry about it and wanted to face the council before). All of this happened without a proper build-up (The father's spiraling was done much better in Hunt lmao). Osha's fall can be done much better and still have everyone stay in character yet still lead to the same outcome, and have a much stronger impact.
And the way Leslye talked about him in her interview like he's an overbearing father and him saying "it's okay" in the end is taking away Osha's agency (???). If i talk more this post is gonna get too long so I'm just gonna link a few links here so you can read them. They explain everything that made me dislike the show even more and don't wanna think about it anymore now lol
x <- about how they ruined the first Asian Jedi Master we got, which pissed me off as a SEA person and a Jedi enjoyer.
x x<- about the writing for Sol
x <- about one of LH interviews where the interviewer said Sol is a bad parent and sexist, and she just went along w that take (how???)
x <-Jedi can love deeply, be it familial or romantic. they just don't let those emotions control them
x x <- more about the shitty writing of this show
#yapping in hyperspace#Anonymous#LH is projecting her white childhood w her white dad onto an Asian man and im just here being baffled af#and her saying the lightsaber=d*cks are like???bro thats not sth u say publicly come on#and her associating creative freedom and queer rights w the Siths. yk the bad guys who murdered children in this universe????#also Jedi are based on Buddhism but the way LH think of them is like a bunch of devoted Christians which is even more wtf#sr for the long rant im still so angry when i think of this shit#the acolyte
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The real reason Jin Seol Ran let Mu Deok go wild is because she was not going to be hosting anyone’s wedding night
#especially not when she didn’t get her own 😭#alchemy of souls#okay but seriously#do we think that she and master seo ever fucked#they never married & r referred as lovers#so I pretty sure she had like. a cousin or a sister or smth that continued the Jin line#bc like Jang Uk did not even know they were lovers so the could not have had a kid together yk#as for Jang Uk & Mudeok it is explicitly stated that they haven’t but I’m like 70% sure she either had a finger gun moment via her man ofc#or he ate her out#and when ju wol said That Mudeok was like. doesn’t count. it did not involve his d*ck#anyways. I’m delusional#mudeok
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so did they yk. *motions* f*ck
#tv: the worst of evil#the worst of evil#ji chang wook#bibi#kdrama#local gay watches TWOE (and ships everyone within sight).txt#local gay watches k-dramas.txt#otherwise what is the reason behind telling her you think you might like her more than you expected you would AFTER she tells you#to give her your undivided attention. what is the reason behind the jacket drop. is the undivided attention coming from your d*ck#did it come from your d*ck is that why you're up and making breakfast for the rest of the boss's inner circle like a man reborn#i mean even Hee Sung is noticing so it has to be that. damn ok they're official now????? are we seeing it?????
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what love feels like ༓ myg (m)
✑ Summary: Being a mother to a beautiful baby girl and wife to an adoring husband is the most rewarding feeling in the world. But you also work a full-time job, are overtired most of the time, stressed, don't have any alone time, look very different than eight years ago, and sex? Well, that hasn’t happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs on you until one day, all of your deepest insecurities rear their ugly head–that your husband might not love you as much anymore and someone could take him away from you.
Pairing: husband!yoongi x reader
AU/genre: angst, fluff, smut, marriage au
Rating: M, 18+
Word Count: 6.7k+
Warnings: swearing, both Yoongi and oc are in their 30s, mom and full-time worker!oc, reserved!dad!yoongi, lack of intimacy, mentions of body insecurities post-pregnancy, mentions of fear of abandonment, mentions of jealousy. irrational worries, built-up stress, light fighting, silent treatment, stubbornness, lots of reassurance, nightmares, cute backstory of how they met, a lot of ily, Yoongi and oc being good parents 🥹, Yoongi calls oc doll, and explicit sexual content
sexual warnings: swearing, kissing, neck kisses, pleading, banter, dirty talk, doll petname, asking for consent, b**b squeezing & sucking, hair threading, penetration, f*ngering, big d*ck!yoongi, growling, missi*nary, eye contact, tearing up, c*ming together
Now Playing: Breathing by Anne Marie
a/n: Okay this was for Yoon's bday. Based on the poll, husband!Yoon won. Was intended to be a Drabble but well...heh 😅 Anyway, I had a lot of fun writing this fic and Yoon is just such a good hubby for responding well to these very relatable insecurities. (Low-key love this couple...) I'm sorry for any typos or warnings i missed! I checked and double checked but a few might have slipped. Enjoy! Anyway please enjoy! 🥰
“So, you're Jia's father, huh? I don’t think I've seen you here before, and I’m sure I would have recognized you.”
With his back straight and arms folded, Yoongi gives the woman in front of him a quick once-over. Mid-40s, freshly single, and definitely in need of some companionship. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out; she’s been talking his ear off for the past twenty minutes like he’s some kind of remedy to all her problems.
Honestly, he just swung by to pick up his four-year-old from daycare after another grueling day at work. But the moment he walked in, it was as if all the single moms latched onto him like a flock of hungry geese. This one’s name is Sandra in particular.
It reminds him of his college basketball days, how the cheerleaders all too eagerly swarmed around him after sinking the winning shot at the championship game. Shame he was too busy eyeing the girl in the stands to care, her face buried behind a book twice as big as her head. Who reads an 800-page novel during the playoffs anyway?
Fate, as one may call it, intervened about a week later when his best friend became said girl’s lab partner. Yoongi didn’t make any sudden moves at first, but well, he did make her his wife three years later.
“It’s just so nice to finally meet the father of such a sweet child. Especially considering how many dads tend to take a backseat in their child's early years.” Is she still going on? Yoongi does his best to stay present, though it’s proving unsuccessful. “And Jia truly is an angel! It’s clear you’re doing a wonderful job raising her, even with a full-time job and all.”
Yoongi’s eyebrows knit together at the somewhat odd choice of words. “Thanks,” he drawls out, noticing her pupils dilating with every breath. “Most of the credit goes to my wife though. She’s a great mom to Jia.”
“Jia’s m-mom?” Sandra stutters, her mouth slightly agape. Yoongi senses the gears turning in her head as she struggles to process the unexpected presence of his wife. Tempting as it is, he holds down a smirk. Of course, he’s a happily married man–for nearly eight years now.
“Yeah,” he replies simply. “She’s usually the one to pick up our daughter from daycare, but she’s been working a lot of overtime lately. I thought I'd come instead so she can get some rest."
“Oh, well that’s very–“
“Daddy! Daddy, you’re here!” The sound of a familiar high-pitched voice, along with a light pattering of feet, diverts both adult’s attention.
“Hey kid.” Yoongi effortlessly lifts the small child once in front of him, securing her in his arms. “Have fun today?”
Jia gives an enthusiastic nod, bright red ribbons in her hair bouncing cutely as she does. Proudly, she shows him the drawing she made.
“See? It’s me, you, and mommy!” She makes sure to point to each part of the picture with her pointer finger.
Yoongi gently takes the artwork from his daughter’s hand and lets out a soft chuckle. “Now this is what I call a masterpiece! Mommy’s gonna love hanging this one on the fridge. How about I hold onto this and you go grab your backpack, okay?”
As soon as Jia’s feet touch the carpeted floor again, she races off to her cubby in the far corner of the room. Yoongi shoots Sandra a final glance before slowly following behind. “We got to get going, but nice meeting you.”
“You…too.” Sandra’s response is more than disappointed as she watches the father-daughter duo make their way out of the building. Evidently, Min Yoongi isn’t the single dad she originally assumed. Funny, she swore there wasn’t a wedding band in sight. Maybe she missed it.
“No, I’m sorry but I’m certain we haven’t used any of your services in the last six months. My husband canceled it in late October.”
With one hand, you grip your cell phone up to an ear while the other pops open the dishwasher. You’ve been on the phone with the cable company for half an hour, trying to make sense of an unexpected charge that appeared on your bank account this morning. You consider yourself more patient than most, yet after working all day, a pile of laundry waiting to be washed, and dinner threatening to burn on the stove, the last thing you have time for is arguing with your old service provider.
“I understand, ma’am, and I apologize for any confusion. I’m taking a look at my records and they’re all showing me that—oh wait a second.”
The young man on the opposite end of the line interrupts his own thought, piquing your concern in the process.
“What did you say your last name is?”
You answer and in an instant, you’re met with a thousand rushed apologies; something about getting the account names mixed up in their system. It’s difficult to decipher everything you hear with the front door being thrust open that very moment.
“Mommy, where are you? We’re home!” Your daughter not so subtly announces her presence from the foyer. She kicks off her shoes, hangs her backpack on the designated wall hook, and then rushes to the kitchen upon catching a brief glimpse of your shirt.
“It’s alright, these mistakes happen.” You hang up the call and turn around to find Jia only steps away, a big goofy grin on her face. Infectious, you break out into a smile yourself and swoop her up.
“Hey honey, I missed you so much!” You kiss the side of your daughter’s head as she wraps her small arms around your neck. “You look so pretty with all these ribbons in your hair! Daddy did a good job, didn’t he?”
Being that you were called into work earlier than usual this morning, Yoongi was the one who got Jia dressed and ready for daycare. You’re delightfully surprised by the results.
“Mmhm,” Jia nods, twirling a couple of strands of hair between her thumb and forefinger. “But Daddy pulls too much!”
“Maybe if someone had listened and stopped fussing when I told her, I wouldn’t have accidentally yanked on her hair when I was reaching for her favorite Hello Kitty scrunchie.” Yoongi joins you both in the kitchen, walking over to press a quick peck on your lips while tenderly caressing the small of your back. The gesture soothes you of your earlier frustrations. “Who was that on the phone? Cable company?”
“Yeah, they canceled the charge. Wrong account.” As you reiterate the entire mix-up, your eyes wander all over your husband. He’s especially handsome tonight, given his perfectly tousled black hair and navy blue blazer flowing over his body. It’s tastefully oversized with a clean, white top paired underneath. You, on the other hand, are sporting a raggedy old t-shirt and stained sweatpants.
There was a time when you used to put a shit ton more effort into your appearance. It was before you got pregnant with Jia, back when you and Yoongi were going out on weekly dates. Neither of you has that kind of time anymore, or energy for that matter. You didn’t believe the other moms when they told you the romance takes a nose dive after you have your first kid. Yet here you are, proven wrong again.
Being parents to a beautiful baby girl is likely the most rewarding feeling in the world for you and Yoongi. You don’t remember the last time the two of you got real quality alone time though. And sex? Well, that hasn’t happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs more on you with each passing day to be honest. Sure, you’re not the same person you used to be eight years ago, but shouldn’t you and Yoongi still make time for at least a little intimacy?
“How was picking up Jia by the way?” You look at Yoongi who merely shrugs nonchalantly in response.
“It was fine. Nothing too out of the ordinary,” Yoong gives you another peck before heading up the stairs to your bedroom. “I’m gonna go get changed. Why don’t you show Mommy the drawing you did Jia?”
“A drawing?” You shift your attention to your daughter whose eyes sparkle like diamonds upon mention. “We should put it up on the fridge then. Let’s take a look hmm?”
“It’s in my backpack! My new friend and I were drawing together. Her name is Mi-Sun.” Jia continues telling you all about her friend Mi-Sun as you make your way to the front door where her backpack hangs. You’re fully engaged until the very end. “Daddy made a new friend too!” she joyously claps her hands together, not realizing the depth of her remark.
“Oh, who’s Daddy’s new friend honey?” You ask, staying as calm as possible.
“Ms. Cho! They were talking for a really long time today.”
Ms. Cho? You think back to all the moms you’ve met at daycare. Somehow you can’t recall ever hearing or meeting a Ms. Cho. She must be a single mom, you deduce. Was she new? What did she look like? And why didn’t Yoongi mention her when you asked?
This has to be nothing but a little small talk, an acquaintance at most. Besides, the moms at Jia’s daycare are quite a chatty bunch and Yoongi wouldn’t dare overstep any boundaries.
“Do you know what they were talking about?” You don’t enjoy asking your child for details about your husband, yet you can’t seem to help it this time.
“I dunno,” she shrugs her shoulders. "Daddy was laughing a lot."
Suddenly, the self-assurance you gave yourself earlier slips away; seemingly useless given the queasy feeling building in the pit of your stomach.
For the remainder of the night, you purposely dodge every attempt your husband makes to kiss, touch, and hold you. You’ve even begun responding to his questions in one-word answers and at times, with nothing at all.
Yes, you’re being petty; more than usual. The silent treatment frustrates Yoongi to no end and it isn’t very mature of you, but neither is refusing to tell your wife that some single mom was flirting with you in front of your kid! Okay, so maybe that's an exaggeration. Maybe it all sums up to a harmless conversation, but it’s not like you know either way with Yoongi being as reserved as he is. It brings you back to your early dating days when he wouldn’t think to tell you about various aspects of his day; who he ate breakfast with that morning or the one classmate of his that wouldn’t leave him alone for two semesters.
Truth be told, you're simply hoping that your husband will bring up the topic first, without having to be the classic nagging wife. You’re a jealous person by nature so it’s not a simple task. Even now as you fold the first batch of laundry on your shared bed, him on the other side doing the same, you struggle to keep from blurting everything out.
“So,” Yoongi fluffs up a clean pillowcase before sliding it onto one of the bed pillows. “How was work?”
What a basic question, you grumble internally. Is that all he’s got? “Was okay,” you reply. “The usual.”
“You must be tired from the day. Did you get to lie down at all?” Yoongi picks up another pillowcase, repeating the process as before. When he glances your way, it’s clear something’s on your mind. You’ve started pairing Jia’s socks far more aggressively than normal and you’re holding back your responses. “Did you hear me, doll? Or am I going deaf here?” The sarcastic chuckle distracts you from your task, forcing your attention.
You’re about to respond when your eyes briefly flicker down to his hands, his left one in particular. Where's his wedding ring? Yoongi always wears it no matter what. The same sick feeling from before returns tenfold. No wonder that Ms. Cho was all over him–she must have thought he was single.
“No, I didn’t get to lie down Yoongi. I worked all day, came home and made dinner, called the cable guy to get that stupid bill figured out, and now I’m doing the second load of laundry. I’m really just not in the mood to chat.” It comes out a blur as you snatch the empty laundry basket and head for your washer and dryer, your eyes welling up with tears.
“__, wait.” Yoongi tosses the last pillow near the headboard and stops you in your tracks, his hand firmly gripping one end of the laundry basket. The intensity of his stare softens as he speaks. “I'm sorry if it seems like I'm forcing you to talk. I know you've been losing a lot of sleep recently between work, Jia, and upkeeping the house. We just don't get a lot of time to see each other anymore and I miss you…I miss talking to you."
With every ounce of self-control remaining, you hold back any tears that risk spilling out. You don't know why you're acting like this, why you're crying over something that seems so small and insignificant to the rest of the world. Yoongi loves you. He's said it a million times and proven it to you over and over again, for eight years now. He wouldn’t cheat on you, yet you still get so worked up about the idea that someone could take him away from you. Someone half your age, more attractive, or hell even the opposite sex if it means fewer dark circles under their eyes.
"Why- why aren't you wearing your ring?" Your naturally confident voice dwindles to the whisper of a mouse. It's completely out of character, nevertheless, here you are.
"I..." Your husband's voice wavers. His gaze flickers to his left hand, where his ring should be, but isn't. "Shit...I took it off in the shower this morning," he confesses, frustrated by his forgetfulness. "I was in such a rush to get Jia to daycare, and me to work, that it completely slipped my mind. I'm sorry—I fully intended to put it back on." He pauses, then perks up. "It's still in the bathroom. I'll be right back, okay?"
You watch as he makes a beeline for the master bathroom, eager to rectify the situation as soon as possible. You should have kept silent what you say next, but you don't.
"No wonder the moms at Jia's daycare were so drawn to you."
"What?" Yoongi stops in his tracks. The dumbfounded expression on his face tells you that you've caught him off guard again.
"Jia told me about someone named Ms. Cho," you reluctantly continue. "The two of you were laughing and talking and–"
"Baby, don't worry about that." Seizing his chance, your husband walks back over to you and sneakily pulls the laundry basket from under your arm. He sets it on the ground after, then reaches to take your hand in his, but stubbornly you cross your arms.
"Her name's Sandra," he starts explaining. "She's a new mom at the daycare and she didn't know anyone, so she started talking to me. I got the sense she was a little overly friendly but it was all small talk, nothing more."
Still largely unsatisfied, you remain unmoved. "If it wasn't a big deal then why didn't you tell me earlier?"
"Because nothing serious happened. The majority of the conversation was her venting about her ex-husband and me wishing you were right there next to me. Please believe me. All I could think about was finally being able to come home to you after a long week with Jia in our arms."
"Really?" Well, now you're feeling guilty for avoiding him in nearly every way tonight. Guilty for believing such wild assumptions that he'd leave you for someone else over one measly conversation. Guilty for letting yourself get so worked up over a situation you, quite frankly, knew few details about.
"I mean it doll." This time, when he reaches out to grasp your wrist, he succeeds. He intertwines his fingers with yours and leads you to the edge of your bed, gently pulling you down to sit on his lap. "Do you really think I could look at anyone else the way I look at you? Or think about you the way I have for the last eight-plus years we've been married and known each other?"
You hesitate your answer, averting his eye contact. "I know but…"
"No, don't finish that. Look at me," he intercepts. "You and our daughter are the only women on my mind–24/7. I can't get either of you out of my head and I don't want to. I'm so sorry I forgot to put my wedding band back on this morning, and again tonight. I feel awful about it and I'll be more careful from now on. And another thing, when Sandra and I were talking I mentioned you multiple times. So, it's clear to her that I'm a happily married man."
The last bit of information manages to perk your ears. "You talked about me?" Your eyes widen as you finally shift your full attention to him. Yoongi eyes widen with you, amused by your sudden change of heart to look at him.
"I said my wife is an amazing mother, works too hard for her own good, and needed to rest today. Give or take a few words."
That's all? You huff to yourself. Would it been nice if your husband also thrown in that you were beautiful or stunning in that mix of compliments? Yes, yes it would have–again, you're pettiness clouds your better judgment. You're not as pissed off as before, but rather semi-irritated.
"Okay…well I guess it's fine then. I'm sorry for being short with you earlier. I shouldn't have made those rash conclusions about the ring and that woman from the daycare. It wasn't reasonable of me." You get up from his lap, yet Yoongi isn't entirely convinced that you're okay.
"There's still something you're not telling me. I can tell."
"No, there's nothing else." You waive him off, placing your hand on your bedroom doorknob "You told her you had a wife so it's fine. I need to switch the second load of laundry.”
"Come on, doll. Let's not leave things unsaid now."
Sighing at his plead, you find yourself giving into all your repressed thoughts and emotions. It swallows you up, like a tidal wave you can't stop. "Look at me Yoon. I'm sweaty, I have dark circles under my eyes, stretch marks, love handles, my hair's a mess, and all I wear are old sweats covered in stains. I'm nothing like I used to be! No wonder we aren't intimate anymore."
Yoongi rises from the bed at once, offended by the sudden digression. "Is that what this is all about? It’s not even about that single mom from daycare is it?" The truth of the matter sinks in as he speaks.
"I guess maybe so…though I'm still annoyed about that too." Great, you're back to square one again.
"Come with me, I need to show you something." Your husband gestures you to follow him, which you slowly concede to.
"What are you doing Yoon?" You both walk into the master bathroom, stopping in front of the large mirror above the sink.
"I'm showing you the woman I'm in love with and have been in love with for nearly eight years now. Sweats and all." Yoongi makes you face the mirror directly, hands around your shoulders. You have trouble stomaching the sight.
"Yoongi please, I can't. The laundry ringing off." You avoid looking into the mirror and make a move to leave the bathroom.
"Just stay with me a minute, please?" Your husband refuses to loosen his hold on you, turning your body so you're looking eye to eye. "No, you're not the same person as you were and neither am I. We're parents to a beautiful daughter now, who we love and adore. We're also overtired 90% of the time, juggling a million things at once. But there's one thing you can count on to always stay the same–my loyalty to you. I'll always be in love with you __, no matter what age you are or however way you look. There's nothing you can do to change that, so why fight it?"
Dammit. A single tear rolls down your cheek as you take in his heart-melting speech. It's not his words alone, it's the sincerity behind them. How he's repeated similar countless times before throughout your entire relationship.
"I love you, Yoon..." you choke out the words, composure fleeting.
"I love you so much, doll." He wipes the wetness of your tear with his thumb. "As far as us not being as intimate anymore, that's my fault. I don't ever want you to feel like I don't desire you every day. Why don't we send the kid to my parents this weekend and let me start making things right hmm?"
"I don't know if we can this weekend. Jia has a playdate on Saturday."
"So, I'll ask Mom to take her. She'll be happy to, trust me. We can finally watch that movie you've been dying to show me since what? December?"
"You're serious?" Your eyes light up at the mention of what is essentially a movie date. The show Yoongi's referring to is one you've been craving to see for months, yet neither of you has found the time to watch. "I've been talking about it for so long, Yoon."
"I know you have, it's why I suggested it. I've been wanting to watch it too with all the trailers you keep sending me. Plus, I'll be able to keep my beautiful wife in my arms for over two hours. That's a lot for us, especially with you being such a busy bee. I can never get you to light in one place! What's up with that, huh?"
Feeling your natural self re-emerging, you throw a playful swat to his arm and scowl at his teasing comment. "You're one to talk! You're basically a workaholic! Besides, you knew who you were marrying when you met me."
Yoongi chuckles and brings both hands to cup your cheeks, squishing them slightly. "A cutie who reads 800-page novels at a basketball game?"
"Stop babying me!" You pull his hands off your cheeks and rub them, trying to regain some composure. "I don't regret my choices, I like books. It's why I'm such a boss at work!"
"Okay, boss," he laughs. "What about what I suggested before then? I can call Mom tomorrow and ask her if she could watch Jia for the day. She'll take her to her playdate, then they can spend the rest of the day together."
It does sound nice, having the whole day with your husband.
"Okay," you agree. "Let's try."
"Good." Yoongi slides his hands down to your hips and pulls you flush against his chest. "How about we seal it with a kiss now?" You nod and he leans his head down, pressing an amazing, tender kiss to your lips. It makes you both giddy on queue.
"Read one more story, Daddy!" Jia leaps off her small, twin bed and bounds for her bookshelf. She lets out a series of giggles when a large pair of hands catch her, lifting her high into the air.
"I already read you three books kid," Yoongi says, planting a kiss on her cheek. "Bedtime." He then tucks her into her fluffy comforter, plugs in her teddy bear nightlight, and closes her bedroom door.
The next second, Jia comes running out of her room, latching onto his right leg. "I don't wanna go to bed. I wanna play!" Figures she'd be hyper at this hour.
Yoongi sighs and picks her up. "Daddy told you to go to sleep, it's not playtime. You'll have lots of time for that tomorrow when you get to see your friend." He then carries her into her room, yet she fusses in his arms; thumping her tiny fists into his chest.
"No, no, no, Daddy. I want to play!"
Sighing, Yoongi looks at his child with sharp eyes. "Jia–"
"Hey," you interrupt, entering your daughter's bedroom upon hearing the commotion down the hall. "What's going on?"
"Kid doesn't want to go to bed."
You give an empathetic look and saunter over to the pair, gently taking Jia into your arms. Yoongi places his hands on his hips as he watches you reason with your daughter.
"Jia, you know tomorrow's a big day right? You and Sana are going to go to the playground together." The child nods. "You don't want to be tired when you're playing do you?"
"No..." She shakes her head. "I want to be awake!"
"Then you need to listen to Daddy and go to sleep. That way you'll be full of energy tomorrow when you and Sana go on the swings or slide down all the big slides." You smile as Jia starts rubbing her drowsy eyes, yawning in the process.
"But I...okay," she slowly concedes, eyes fluttering shut as she gives into her sleepy state. Unsurprising to you and Yoongi, she was tired all along. But like most kids, hated going to bed.
"See?" You lay Jia in her bed and pull the covers up near her chin, giving her a light kiss on the side of her head. Yoongi bends down and does the same after you. "You just gotta talk to her a little, she'll typically fall asleep on her own."
"But I read her three of her favorite books." Yoongi shuts off the overhead light, along with the door to Jia's room, and follows you to your bedroom.
"That's different Yoon," you argue back. "Books excite her."
"She takes after you that way then." Yoongi pulls his t-shirt off, leaving him bare-chested, and climbs onto his side of the bed. You join him shortly after with your head resting on his chest and an arm thrown around his waist.
"I'm so exhausted," you yawn.
"Go to sleep, baby. I'm right here." Your husband places a hand over your wrapped arm, sending you off into a deep slumber.
Well this is just ironic. Almost 2 A.M. and you're wide awake.
What initially started as a nice, relaxing dream quickly turned into a terrible nightmare. In the dream, you woke up alone. Yoongi was gone. Jia was gone too. You can't exactly make sense of it, except for a vague memory of Jia calling another woman 'Mom'. You couldn't see her face very well, so it could've been anyone. You couldn't speak either, so even when you tried approaching the three, they couldn't hear you. You've had nightmares plenty of times, but this one is new. It's a clear projection of all the underlying concerns upheaved from earlier; insecurities, abandonment, loss, and it has you unsettled.
You glance over to your husband's side of the bed. He's fast asleep, no longer cuddling you due to you both flip-flopping in your sleep. You decide to slide closer to him, needing to watch him for a while. It might sound weird, but you love watching him sleep. He's so handsome and you feel a great deal of comfort doing so. Maybe if he was awake, you'd tell him about what you dreamt. Then again...maybe not.
"I love you Yoon," you whisper as quietly as you can, tracing his every facial feature with your eyes.
"'m, I love you too."
Is he-was he awake? As if caught red-handed, you quickly flit your face away in favor of the blank ceiling above. You weren't expecting him to answer at all, and in such a hoarse voice too. You're a little turned on by it to be honest.
"Can't sleep?" he speaks up again, eyes still closed.
"No, I''ll be okay though. You can go back to sleep. Don't worry."
He grunts, a tad unhappy with your dismissal of him. "Do you want to talk about it? Your dream?"
You whip your head in his direction. "How–" You pause, seeing his eyes blink open.
"I didn't meet you just yesterday, doll. I know they keep you up. Just know, I'm always here okay? Always." He reaches for you with delicate fingers as he continues. "Now, come here. Seems we got separated in our sleep."
You accept the offer and cuddle into him again. This time your noses nearly touch and his arm wraps around your lower waist. You feel the growing urge to kiss him, wanting to forget your nightmare entirely. But perhaps silly, you ask permission first, seeing as he's close to drifting off again.
"Yoon?"
"Mm."
"Can we kiss?" Your cheeks flush a little at the request. Why are you acting like this? You've been married for years.
"Sure, 'm tired but I could go for a make-out right now." A small smirk graces his lips as he teases you. You give him a classic 'Yoongi!' in reply. "I'm kidding. You don't ever have to ask me that," he finishes.
"Hmm, maybe I don't want a kiss anymore." You feign stubbornness, just to see his response. And a response he gives you, more than you're prepared for.
"You're ridiculous," he grumbles, capturing your lips in one fell swoop. He moves his lips against yours as the hand on your waist grips tighter. The tiniest of moans escapes your lips.
You attempt to break the kiss first, thinking it will only last for a few seconds. Yet Yoongi slips a hand behind your neck to bring you into another kiss. One that's deeper than the last. You feel your breath being taken away little by little, especially when his tongue licks into your mouth. God, you haven't kissed like this in an eternity. A wetness soon gathers between your thighs.
"'m, Yoon," you gasp when his cool fingers sneakily make their way under your shirt, tickling your bare skin. They travel the expanse of your waist, stomach, and up along your back. "So cold."
Yoongi pulls away from the kiss and retracts his fingers. He then lazily moves his body until his chest hovers over your own, rolling you on your back in the process. He's a bit of a blur due to the dimness of the room, yet you can see the whites of his eyes a bit better than before.
"Help me warm them then," he says, folding his hands on top of yours from where they rest on your stomach. "You're really burning up, doll."
His observation is right. Ever since you woke up, you're body's been hotter than normal. The stress is clear and it's only increasing due to the unexpected turn of tonight's events; your husband seemingly wanting to make love to you in the middle of the night.
"So I am," you reply, staring straight into his eyes. "Must be because of all the sudden surprises today. My body's finally responding to it all."
Yoongi nods, following your implication. "Well let's do something to calm it down, shall we?" He waits for your final go before making any abrupt movements.
"But...you haven't seen me–"
"Naked in a while?" he predicts your next words, unfazed. "I've seen it all, each time better than the last because I love you. You're beautiful to me, no matter what. Let me love you __. I've missed you. I've missed us."
"Okay...please," you sigh, desperately needing his touch. "It's been so long since we've been this close."
Neither of you has it in you to delay another second as you dive into another fiery kiss, your hands wandering up and down each other's bodies. You love his hair the most, so you run your fingers through it repeatedly. Your husband's soft grunts remind you that it's as pleasurable for him as it is for you, and as if to counter, he latches his lips to the curve of your neck.
"Yoon," you moan, shivering at the feeling of being peppered in open-mouth kisses. Your eyes automatically roll up as well.
Yoongi nips at your jaw next, featherlike, yet deadly to you nevertheless. He doesn't allow himself to linger more than a second, though, preferring to keep you on your toes. So with careful fingers, he begins lifting the bottom of your shirt.
"Can I?"
You hum in approval and lean forward for him to remove it.
With your nipples now exposed to the brisk air, stiffening due to arousal, Yoongi brings both his hands up to caress your boobs. He's incredibly gentle, telling you how beautiful you are once again until his thumbs start circling your peaked nipples. A rush of sensation shoots up your spine as he rolls them harder, flicking them once in a while.
"Fuck," you swear.
"Feeling good?"
All you do is nod fervently in response, which Yoongi takes as his signal to lower his head to your chest. He squeezes both breasts in his hand before wrapping his mouth around a nipple, licking and sucking relentlessly. He repeats the same to the other.
"Yoongi, I need you. Please." You're core tightens, thighs struggling not to rub together, as you plead with your husband to relieve you. You are so wet and getting wetter.
"I'm here, doll, I got you. Fingers first hm?"
He pushes part of the comforter towards the foot of the bed, then gestures for you to raise your butt. Any shred of mystery of how worked up he's gotten you slip away as he pulls your underwear and pants down your legs. They both get tossed on the floor, per usual.
Bare pussy exposed, Yoongi guides your legs further apart and brings a hand down to your entrance. One of his long, slender fingers traces up your folds so smoothly that you buck your hips upon the touch. He smiles lightly at the subtle response, pleased that you're finally enjoying yourself; too often you put your needs last. His finger slowly sinks into your well-lubricated pussy, velvety walls clenching around it.
"Oh, g-god," you give a shaky moan as his finger pumps and curls in you, stimulating your g-spot. "Need you now, Yoon, so bad."
"Mm not yet, we need to stretch you out. You haven't taken me for a good three or four weeks," he smirks at your eagerness, sliding a second finger next to the first. "This pussy is drenched but not enough. I need you to come. Can you do that for me?"
Fast, quick movements follow suit as your husband works you up to an orgasm. Oh fuck, oh fuck, you chant in near whines. Your pussy is spasming around him, walls tightening with each push and pull. You know when he draws his hand out that it's covered with your come. Messy, sex is messy and both of you are too far gone to care; the pleasure sweeping over you.
Finally, in what feels like an endless tease, you have your first orgasm of the night. You feel your body relaxing into the mattress again, yet your breath remains short. Yoongi, on the other hand, groans seeing your release dripping down your thighs and onto the sheets. For a split second, there's a slight darkening in his eyes while he takes in your post-orgasmic form. The two fingers that had been inside you are sensually brought to his lips, slipping between the seam before being cleaned off.
You're taken aback by the action, though you've witnessed it before. Something about watching your husband willingly follow through with a gesture so lewd makes your head spin–you want him to fuck you right this instant. He must share the same feeling because you don't even need to sound the words due to his hands already making quick work of his pants.
"You drive me mad, you know that? Can never get a break with how sweet you taste. Your lips, your come. All of it makes me go mad." His full length comes in view, hard and tip leaking with pre-cum. You try not to let yourself stare at the thickness but hell, you must've forgotten the extent of your husband's size. You don't remember it being this big before.
"Well," you gulp. "You're not making it easy on me either, looking like this."
Yoongi climbs over to you again, settling into a straddled position, and looks deep into your eyes. "Who's fault do you think that is?"
"It's your fault." You bend your legs and wrap them around his mid-section. You can feel the tip of his cock tease at your entrance. The anticipation is beyond grueling.
"No," he says, aligning himself up to your weeping hole. "it's yours." He then thrusts his hips forward, his length sinking into you so perfectly it has you completely satisfied.
"Y-Yours," you whimper out, unable to form a steady sentence.
"Fine." He picks up his pace. "Let's just agree we both fuck each other up on a daily---ah fuck!" Yoongi growls and gives you a suspicious look when he feels your pussy suddenly clench around his length.
"I didn't do it on purpose this time! You're fucking me too good is all."
"Really? You're not just teasing me?"
Yoongi is slow to believe since you've purposefully clenched countless times before, simply out of playfulness. Tonight is different than those nights though because you're telling the truth–he's truly fucking you so good.
"What the hell," he concedes. "You feel so fucking fantastic, I don't even care." He continues his movements, thrusting into you with deep groans and labored breaths. His fingers grip the mattress harder with the veins in his neck bulging out.
Both your bodies move in sync as the familiar sound of skin slapping on skin echoes off the walls of your bedroom. You do your best to keep your moans low, not wanting to risk waking up your daughter.
"Yoon, fuck! I need to come, it's gonna-fuck-happen soon," you swear, pussy throbbing at the feeling of being so full after weeks of abstinence. You can tell you're reaching your high with the bundle of nerves in your core threatening to snap at any given moment.
Of course, you're wet too, extremely wet.
"I'm. Nearly. There." He barely sounds the words out, jaw clenching. "Just another minute, and we can finish together."
Your eyes, which haven't left his since he entered you, begin to glass over with tears. It's overwhelming; his love for you. No matter the doubts that tell you the opposite, you can't give in to their ugly lies. You'll continue to struggle, naturally, but you won't ever let them win. Yoongi's never once given up on you, and neither should you.
"I love you, Yoon...I love you with all my soul," you choke the words, falling apart all at once. "I'm sorry for today. How jealous and irrational I got."
"Don't apologize, doll. I shouldn't have let it go so far, our lack of intimacy and alone time. I promise we're going to make it all right okay?"
Giving you one last thrust, you both have your release at the same time. Yoongi helps ride your orgasm out by lazily continuing to grind into you. Yeah, you might need to shower and switch out the sheets after tonight, but you don't regret it one bit.
"In all seriousness baby," Yoongi speaks up, guiding your legs back on the soft mattress until you’re comfortable. "Don't feel like you have to apologize for everything. I understand your feelings and where you were coming from. I will say, the silent treatment kills me though. I'd rather you yell at me than not talk to me at all."
"It's not easy for me to raise my voice like that, Yoon." You throw your arms around his neck and sigh softly. "But I can try talking to you more, or at least tell you I need some time to process before I'm ready to have a conversation. I don't know, am I making sense?"
"Plenty of sense. I'll share more about my day with you and who I'm talking to as well. We'll also carve out time to have together. I love our daughter, but I don't see the harm in reaching out to our friends and family to babysit once in a while."
"Well, this sounds good to me," you hum.
"Me too." Yoongi smiles wide and goes in for another warm kiss. Your eyes flutter shut in unison.
This is what love feels like.
a/n: LMK what you think 🥰
Masterlist | Requests: closed | Taglist | Fic Recs
no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton
#yoongi smut#yoongi fluff#yoongi angst#yoongi x reader#yoongi fanfic#bts imagine#bts smut#bts fluff#bts x reader#bts fanfic#bts scenarios#bts au#fic:whatlovefeelslike#kookslastbutton
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Helloooo! May I request Zhongli, Itto, Neuvillette, and Tighnari's s/o asking them to make her a mommy?
Oh what a wonderful idea~
─⊰💕𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤💕⊰─
{༻~Make me a mommy, pretty please~༺}
CW: NSFW, MDNI!!, Fem! Reader, breeding kink, no protection, slight mommy kink, creampie, slight mention of nipple play, scratching, big d*ck, and rough s*x!
Names used on the reader: Itto: Princess and Tighnari: Mutt, Neuvillette: My love
(Includes: Itto, Zhongli, Tighnari, and Neuvillette!)
𑁍༄Itto:
"I-i want to be a mommy, mmnhhg please Itto! C-cum inside!" You moaned loudly into the air, your nails digging into the large onis back as he nearly split you in two. You were a puddle beneath him, soaking the bed as he filled you past your limit with his thick cock, god you couldn't even see straight with how hard he was fucking you into the mattress.
He paused his movements, looking at you with this knowing glint in his eyes and smirk that left your legs quivering even more then they had been. He lifted up your chin and licked his lips, "You gonna carry my child for me like a good princess, give me a perfect baby~"
You couldn't even respond only weakly nod under his gaze and oh how he enjoyed seeing you so weak under him, "Then lets make sure you get pregnant tonight~"
𑁍༄Zhongli:
"I w-wanna be a mommy, wanna carry your b-babies, mmnhhg!" You gasped your words in between his messy kisses, your body screaming for him to fill it with his seed, oh archons you didn't even know what had gotten into you but your urges had you clenching around his hard cock like it was the end of the world if you didn't. Your hands held bunches of his hair and with ever thrust of his hips you were almost blinded with ecstasy, the rest of existence drowned out as he groaned into your mouth "Mnhghh~"
He pulled away long enough to look you in the eyes, his gleaming yellow orbs shining like he intrigued by your request...you almost wanted to look away with how intense of a stare he somehow managed to hold while he still thrusted into you. "That's no trouble at all, I'll breed you until you're swarming with my offspring. Till your perfect body can't handle anymore and then just as it's healed up, I'll do it all again~"
𑁍༄Tighnari:
"T-tighnar-i nhhg! Let me h-have your child, make me a mommy mnnh!! P-pleaseee" You gripped the sheets so hard your fingers where turning white, but it felt so good you were basically in a bath of your own heat. His cock destroying your tight pussy from behind you and the angle he was at reaching the places that made your eyes roll into the back of your head. You needed him to put a baby in, you just needed it animalistic instincts taking over when his teeth left imprints in your neck "F-fuck please mmnh! Please!!"
His hands slid up from where they'd been playing with your sensitive nipples and he pulled your whole body away from the mattress, your back up against his chest as he whispered into your ear, "My mutts so eager to be a mommy hmm, you gonna take every bit of my cum then? Cause I won't stop till you're overflowing~"
𑁍༄Neuvillette:
You let your head fall back as a loud desperate moan escaped you, your hips moving on their own as your desperately rocked into his massive cock, every inch of it making you feel like you were being torn apart but god it was so good you couldn't stop, "Neuvill-ette Mnhgh! O-oh god, please cum inside. M-make me a mommy! F-fuck please!!"
He groaned into your ear, his grip on your body growing tighter like he'd just forgotten every other thing but your request and how wonderful your pussy felt around him, "You want me to make you a mommy...you want to carry my child?" He forced you down onto him roughly and you absolutely screamed in joy, "Y-yes! Fuck yes!!"
"Then consider it done my love, just remember that you never get pregnant first try and I don't plan on going easy on you~"
ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚~Have a nice day!~*.✧
#genshin smut#genshin headcanons#genshin x reader#genshin x you#itto smut#itto x reader#itto x you#zhongli smut#zhongli x you#zhongli x reader#tighnari smut#tighnari x reader#tighnari x you#neuvillette smut#neuvillette x you#neuvillette x reader
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Kinktober 「10:10」 — j.yunho
» ateez menu | yunho menu | kinktober masterlist «
➮ wereleopard!Yunho × fem!Reader wc: 3.3k summary: Yunho hadn’t been on a date in ages when he managed to land a date with his cute coworker, Y/N. Cue one awkward first date and a handful of other successful ones, Yunho feels like he’s starting to settle into his growing relationship. The only thing holding him back is that his girlfriend is so small and it drives him mad with the desire to pin her down and unleash his inner beast. He finally comes clean when Y/N asks him why they aren’t more intimate. genres/themes/au: angst/fluff/smut; supernatural, horror, thriller; non idol au, monster idol au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, reader is smaller than yunho by a lot mention of alcohol consumption, supernatural and horror themes, mentions of: caffeine consumption (coffee lol), office dynamics, work relationships, coworkers to lovers, leopard mating habits in the wild (lol); sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! taglist has been moved to reblogs join my taglists! kinktober taglist is closed! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.
a/n: i had a lot of fun with this one and like i mention in the smut warnings under the cut, Yunho's cock is... less than human lol. if that bothers you, don't read this. I'm not called monsterfucker for no reason! i don't really have much else to say about this so thank you for reading and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.
smut warnings: teratophilia (aka monsterfucking), size kink, praise (f receiving), unprotected sex (use condoms pls), use of pet names (baby, babe, sweetheart, kitty, little one, etc), dom!Yunho, sub!Reader, Yun has a huge d!ck (because of course he does), biting (f receiving), scratching (f receiving), non-human genitalia (because he’s a werecat, he has a barbed d!ck. Does it make sense? No. Do I care? Also no. don’t like it, don’t read it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ i’m not responsible for your media consumption lol), I think that’s all but just let me know if I missed something. kinks: Size kink + praise dialogue prompt: ���❛ Try to stay quiet for me, kitten. Can you do that? ❜❜
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Being a werecat had its advantages and its disadvantages.
For instance, Yunho was extremely agile, light on his feet, and fast despite his large stature. All positives in his book. He was always the fastest and most graceful in gym class. Everything athletic came naturally to him.
The cons were it was rough on his dating life. In his teens, he didn’t even bother dating because he was too busy with school and sports but when he finished college and started working, dating became a strange and foreign landscape for him.
Until he met you of course.
When he first encountered you in the break room, he froze upon seeing your tiny frame at the coffee maker. He’d been working at the office for six months by that point and he’d never seen you before. The moment you turned away from the counter, stirring your mug of coffee, and your locked eyes with him, Yunho knew it was all over for him.
You were quite possibly the most beautiful person he’d ever seen, your light makeup and soft lip color. The cream and black button down blouse with sheer sleeves and the tight black pencil skirt that hit just below your knees, hugging and showing off your curves had him weak in the knees.
He was doomed before you even opened your mouth.
You quickly introduced yourself, stepping forward to shake his hand. The feeling of your tiny hand in his was one he would not forget easily. You were so small compared to him. It ignited within him the desire to protect you from the entire office.
He learned you were part of the IT department while he worked in human resources. You were a transfer from another location of the same company and had just started a few days ago. Yunho took you under his wing immediately despite having only been there a few months but he knew if he didn’t act now, someone else might beat him to it.
You started taking your lunches together and sending messages back and forth. Yunho started to show you around the city when you were off work and you became fast friends.
That friendship for him blossomed quickly into a work crush but he never in a million years thought you might also like him and so when he overheard you telling another coworker about your work crush, his heart sank, thinking you had developed feelings for someone else.
It wasn’t until he heard you say his name that he perked up and realized that you liked him back.
It took him an embarrassingly long time to work up the courage to ask you out and when he finally did, you accepted his invitation for dinner immediately. He’d worried himself so much with you potentially rejecting him, despite knowing you had a crush on him, that he didn’t even have a plan in place for the date but he quickly mapped it all out, scoring a reservation at a really nice place near the river.
Dinner was amazing, the food was spectacular, the conversation was flowing as was the wine and afterwards, the two of you found yourselves walking by the river, admiring the lights of the city. Yunho wanted more than anything to hold your hand and when he finally took the plunge and took your hand in his, he was a goner.
The date ended with him walking you to the bus stop and you had ask him to bend down so you could kiss his cheek before boarding the bus bound for home. Yunho had ridden that high for the rest of the weekend leading into the following Monday and safe to say, he was already smitten.
One date turned into two, which turned into another and soon the two of you agreed to be exclusive. There were thankfully no rules in place that prohibited dating coworkers so long as the two parties weren’t in the same department which you and Yunho were not so it was allowed.
Months flew by and while your relationship progressed romantically and emotionally, physically was another story. That’s not to say you hadn’t kissed. Of course you had. Yunho loved nothing more than kissing you, especially when you were perched on his lap but it never progressed past that.
Yunho was afraid of hurting you. He was quite large, not just in stature. His nature as a wereleopard also meant that he was a great deal more… animalistic. He didn’t have normal human parts. Just like a male cat had spikes on its penis, Yunho had similar protrusions, albeit not as sharp but he knew that it couldn’t be comfortable, having those raking against the inside of your body.
On top of that, he was afraid he might be too rough with you. So as much as he didn’t want to, he often pulled back when things got a little too heated.
It was no different as he sat on your couch, having come over with take out on a Friday night, your designated date nights. That night it was a night in with take out and a show the two of you had gotten into together. Empty takeout containers sat on the coffee table along with a half empty bottle of wine and empty wine glasses.
The tv played softly in the background as you sat perched on Yunho’s lap, fingers twisting through his hair gently as your lips moved against one another, tongues meeting in a languid dance, neither seeking control. His large hands held your tiny waist as you moaned into his mouth, grinding lightly against him.
Yunho had started the evening with an erection, covering it with one of your blankets while you ate and watched TV but when you climbed on top of him, he couldn’t hide it anymore as it strained against his pants, begging for release. When you rolled your hips again, pulling away to leave a trail of kisses down the column of his neck, Yunho finally spoke up.
“Baby,” he croaked, voice hoarse from having not used it in a long while. “Hmm?” you hummed, kisses down to the spot where his neck and shoulder met, a sweet spot of his. You pulled the collar of his shirt away to kiss and nip at the spot, making his mind go blank briefly.
“I-” Yunho let out a moan as your tongue ran along the exposed skin. “I should probably get going.”
You raised your head, lips brushing against his ear. “Why?” you whispered. “Tomorrow is Saturday,” you reminded him. “We don’t work tomorrow.” You pressed soft, wet kisses on the underside of his jaw, one of your hands sliding from his hair down his chest. “You could finally sleep over,” you murmured as your hand continued its path, one that was heading right for the front of his jeans.
“I-I…” Yunho was grasping for a reason to not spend the night despite the fact that he so desperately wanted to. God did he want to spent the night so fucking bad. He wanted more than anything to take you to bed, make love to you and wake up next to you in the morning.
“Please spend the night, Yuyu,” you cooed softly, fingers moving to undo the button of his jeans. Yunho snapped out of it and firmly pushed you back, holding you steadily on his lap as he looked at you with wide eyes. You stared at him in confusion. He could only imagine what was going through your head.
“It’s not a good idea,” he finally said. Your expressions shifted from confusion to dejected as he rejected your advances yet again. ‘Fuck. Don’t look at me like that.’ He hated telling you no, especially when he wanted the exact opposite. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said softly. “It’s just…” he trailed off, knowing there was no easy way to explain his reluctance to you.
Never did he expect that you thought the problem was you.
“Do you not want me?”
Your question paired with the crestfallen look on your face made his heart break.
“You think I don’t want you?” he asked softly, moving a hand to cup your cheek. “Baby,” he said with a sigh as you leaned into his touch. “I want you so bad. I want you so bad it hurts,” he continued. “I’m just trying to protect you.” Your eyes opened to look at him. “Protect me?” you asked. “From what?”
Yunho let out a heavy sigh. “From me.”
Your brows knitted together in confusion. “I don’t understand…” you whispered. Yunho took a deep breath before speaking. “I’m not normal, Y/N,” he started, taking your hands in his, pressing his palms against yours before lacing your fingers together. “I’ve told you about the curse,” he explained, looking up as you nodded. “That you’re a wereleopard,” you replied.
“Well, there are things about me that look human and for the most part, I am rather ordinary,” he continued to explain, looking down at your intertwined hands. “But in some ways I’m quite… odd.” You let out an impatient noise, pulling your hands from his and pushing his shoulders back so he was leaning against the back of the couch, you leaning against him as you twisted your fingers into his hair, playing with his locks. “I’d say extraordinary,” you argued with a smile.
Yunho couldn’t help the smile that rose to his face. “You’re sweet,” he said softly, giving you a quick kiss. “But I’m serious,” he added, smile falling. “I wish I could explain it,” he continued with a sigh. “But it’s difficult.” You pressed a couple kisses to his lips and cheek. “Then show me,” you suggested. “Please Yuyu?” you added when he opened his mouth to protest.
“Baby, I don’t want to freak you out. It’s… weird.”
You frowned, sitting up and looking at him. “You are many things, Jeong Yunho, and weird may be one of them but that’s never deterred me before, has it?” you asked, tilting your head. Yunho smiled again, a chuckle rising up from his chest. “No, I suppose it hasn’t.” The smile returned to your face.
“Then just show me,” you repeated. “I promise I won’t go running for the hills.”
Yunho sighed and nodded, guiding you off his lap. “Just, promise me you won’t… freak out?” he asked as he started to undo his jeans. You nodded. “I promise, babe,” you replied, eyes wide with excitement as he undid his jeans, pulling the zipper down slowly. He raised his hips, pushing his jeans halfway down his thighs.
You could see his cock already straining against his underwear, a dark patch of precum staining the fabric. It made your mouth water and soon you wanted more than to just see it. Yunho took a deep breath before sliding his hand into his boxers, pulling his cock free and your eyes widened as you took in the sight.
It was not what you were expecting. It was mostly human shaped, flesh colored with a bulbous head darker than the rest. A small bead of precum seeping out of the slit. The shaft was pale, veiny like most cocks but what set it apart from the rest were the small bumps around the base of the head. You leaned in closer to inspect, seeing that the bumps were actually pointed.
You looked up at Yunho. “Can I touch it?” you asked softly. Yunho looked surprised by your lack of disgust and that you were more curious and willing to touch him. He nodded, moving his hand to the base of his cock as you reached out a small hand, fingers wrapping around his cock just under the head.
Seeing your tiny hand on his cock nearly sent him over the edge but he managed to keep his composure as your fingers moved, dancing lightly over the head of his cock. “Oh,” you said, sounding surprised as you rubbed the pad of your finger over the spines of his cock. “I thought they would be sharper,” you murmured. Yunho was struggling to keep his breathing steady as you wrapped your fingers around his cock once more. He let out a hiss, head falling back onto the couch cushion.
Curiously, you leaned over, giving the very tip of his cock a lick, cleaning the precum that had gathered there. Yunho let out a gasp, hips bucking as you sat back up, giving him a cheeky smile. “It’s not weird,” you finally said. “I think it’s actually neat,” you added, glancing down at his cock. “I wonder what it feels like,” you added, fingers brushing the spines once more.
“You wanna find out?” Yunho asked, his voice dropping an octave. You looked up at him, meeting his dark gaze. Wordlessly, you nodded. “Yes,” you breathed out as he held out a hand. “God yes,” you exclaimed, taking his hand. He pulled you back onto his lap, pulling you into a kiss as you settled against his cock, the underside pressing against your cloth covered crotch.
“Fuck,” Yunho groaned as you kissed down his neck, fingers moving to undo the buttons of his shirt. Once you had it undone, you pushed the material aside, exposing his toned chest and abs. “C’mere,” he said, grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you into another heated kiss, tongue sliding against yours messily. “One second,” you murmured, pulling away.
Yunho watched as you climbed off him, tucking your thumbs into your shorts and slowly pushing them down, along with your underwear until it fell to your feet. Stepping out of them, you quickly removed your shirt and climbed back onto his lap as he shrugged his own shirt off, having removed his pants and underwear while you were stripping.
“Wait,” Yunho said as you grabbed his cock, lining the tip with your slit. “I need to prep you, baby,” he said as you sat down, sinking on his cock. You let out a moan, taking the head of his cock with ease. “Fuuuuck,” Yunho moaned, head falling back as his hands gripped your waist tightly.
He underestimated how wet you were as your walls enveloped him. “So big,” you moaned, pausing halfway down his shaft. “It’s okay,” Yunho cooed. “Take your time, little one.” You moaned, resting your forehead against his, your hot breaths mixing together as your body slowly adjusted to the massive intrusion.
As you sank further, taking more of his thick cock inside you, the bumps added to the sensation. Each inch stung, a dull burn as your cunt stretched around him. “Fuck, taking me so well, kitty,” he purred, reaching up to cup your cheek. “Can you take more?”
Without answering, you sank further until the tip of his cock was pressed against your cervix. You had taken every single inch without prep like a champ and Yunho would not forget it. Nor would he let you forget it. “Such a good girl, taking all of my cock. It’s like you were made for me.”
Your walls squeezed around him. “Fuck, you’re so tiny,” he said, as his hands moved up your sides. “Such a small little kitty taking my cock like a good girl.” The praise went straight to your core and you wanted more. As you raised your hips, you let out a strained moan, feeling the spines at the base of his cock head lightly rake against your walls.
“Oh holy shit,” you gasped, freezing. Yunho’s hands steadied you. “Are you okay?” he asked breathlessly. You nodded. “It’s different,” you answered. “But I like it.” You continued, more of his cock sliding out of you as the spines scratched the inside of your cunt. You sank back down on him, moaning loudly as the tip of his cock hit your ceRvix.
“F-fuck!” Yunho groaned, fingers digging into your skin as you started to move faster, bouncing on his cock, each pull dragging the spines against your walls and making you cry out. It didn’t hurt but it was definitely a much different feeling. It took ‘ribbed for her pleasure’ to a whole new level.
Your thighs started to burn as you tried your best to keep up but Yunho could tell you were getting tired and your legs were going to give out any moment with the way they were shaking. “Stop,” he gasped. “Let me.” Yunho easily turned, depositing you onto the couch on your back and was sliding back into your walls, as he pushed your thighs to your chest.
You cried out as he thrust into you roughly, feeling the spines on his cock drag against your walls. “Yunnie!” you whined as he fucked you against the couch, the room filling with the sound of his hips hitting yours with each thrust. Your hands moved to his back as he pounded into you, the feeling of his hard cock ramming into your cervix making you cry out.
Yunho let out a growl as he felt your nails raked down his back, the feeling spurring him on. Just as quickly as he started, he pulled out of you. He easily maneuvered you onto your stomach, re-entering you from behind and stilling there as he peppered kisses along your shoulder.
“Try to stay quiet for me, kitten. Can you do that?”
You nodded eagerly but the moment he started moving, you were unable to keep quiet as he slammed into you roughly. He never expected you to actually keep quiet but he thought he might as well try seeing as you had neighbors. They would just have to deal with the noise.
You pushed back to meet his thrusts, making him groan into your neck. You cried out in both pain and pleasure as you felt his teeth sink into your shoulder, his hips never faltering as he fucked you roughly. It was much more raw and animalistic than you’d ever had it but you loved every second of it.
“F-fuck,” you cursed. “M’gonna cum, Yunnie!”
Your whimpers and moans urged him on, hips snapping against your ass with a renewed vigor as he pushed you towards your orgasm. “That’s it,” he breathed in your ear, letting go of your shoulder and leaving a deep impression of his teeth in your skin. “Cum on my cock like a good kitty.”
Your walls spasmed around him as you came with a cry of his name. He didn’t stop, chasing his own high as he thrust harshly into you until his own orgasm finally washed over him, releasing his cum into you with one final thrust. You let out another moan as his seed filled your cunt and he stayed there, making sure every last drop made it into your spent hole.
As you lay there, panting and covered in sweat, Yunho littered kiss after kiss along your shoulder, licking the spot he’d bitten down on before kiss up your neck and cheek as you turned your face towards him. “That’s why you were keeping from me?” you asked breathlessly with a chuckle.
Yunho laughed, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I thought you wouldn’t like it,” he admitted. “I can be an animal in bed, or in this case, couch.” You laughed again, letting out a sigh. “Next time, let’s do it on the bed,” you murmured. “More space.” Yunho chuckled. “Give me five and I’ll be ready to go again.” You lifted your head, turning to look at him.
“Again?” you asked, eyes wide. You were exhausted. How was he not? Yunho chuckled as he pressed a kiss to your temple. “I told you,” he replied. “I’m not entirely like normal men. I’m a wereleopard.” He turned your face towards him, pulling you into a kiss as you felt his cock start to harden within your walls.
“And in the wild, leopards mate up to over two hundred times over a few days,” he added between kisses. He pulled back to look at you with a devious smile.
“And we have all weekend, sweetheart.”
©️ kwanisms 2024 | all works on this blog are protected under copyright. Do not repost, continue, or translate my works. All graphics made by me.
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SECRET — lee jeno
𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐋𝐄: secret
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: lee jeno x fem!reader
𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄: smut, fluff (at the end), established relationship, kink discovery, relationship development
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: jeno has a secret he can’t tell anybody, not even you.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: sub!jeno, dom!reader (it’s their first time reversing roles so they’re both exploring how it feels like), implied masturb*tion, n!pple play, kinda hand-free org*sm/coming untouched, an*l fingering, riding, overstimulation, praise kink, minor degradation, size kink (but reversed??? reader is not bigger than jeno but somehow jeno feels small and likes to feel like that), ch*king, names used for jeno (baby boy, good boy, pup/puppy, pretty boy), names used for reader (ma’am, miss, mommy), big d!ck jeno, there’s nothing wrong with being a sub but jeno has issues because he has to always be strong so it doesn’t feel right for him, count the times I say ‘please’ in this (not my fault jeno is the bestest boy ever), aftercare (and kink discussion)
𝐖𝐂: 10.202k
𝐀/𝐍: a gift for my love @yellowgirllsblog, I converted her to subjenoism so I’m on a mission to let more of you see the light of the day and appreciate sub!jeno more. ps: you will never catch me call twitter ‘x.’ enjoy and if you do, please reblog and leave feedback! love u!
Jeno has a secret.
Once you’ll find out what it is, it won’t seem a big deal, but to him, it is.
It’s so big, so stressful, and so shameful, he can’t even talk to you — his sweet, loving girlfriend — about it.
It’s stupid, really. Deep down Jeno is well aware of how dumb it all sounds, but every time he faces it, it looks like a big mountain he can’t climb — and that will probably crumble on top of him, smashing him on the ground.
Stupid or not, big or small, it haunts him every day. Yes, every day. At first, Jeno thought it was just a temporary thing, something that piqued at his curiosity for fun, but soon enough, he fell down the rabbit hole. Looking back at it now, he probably was buried deep in the rabbit hole since forever but he —and the perception others had of him— did a good job at polishing the place real nice and don’t make him realize where he was.
Jeno accepted he is far gone a while ago, but he still can’t wrap his head around it. How is that possible? How could he, out of all the people, like something like this, be like this.
And that’s why he keeps it to himself, praying that if he doesn’t act on it, if he pushes it out of his mind, it will just leave. He’s strong, and fit, and he pounds into you every night, giving it to you like you want it. He can’t be anything else other than this, nothing but a confident, strong man that can’t be vulnerable.
But it turns out that pushing it out of his mind is not as easy as it seems. Jeno might be weaker than he realizes when he keeps going back at it, sipping on it at small doses, almost as if whatever he is holding in it’s a drug he doesn’t want to get addicted to — not knowing he already is. But for now — and forever, he thinks — this is just a fantasy, he can’t get addicted to something that is not real, to a version of him, no matter how authentic it feels, that can’t come out. But he slips further every day, hiding in your shared bedroom with his laptop or phone when you’re at work and he can have a bit of time to himself, when he stares at the box with your toys and lets time pass by because he doesn’t dare to do the next step, and lastly when he fucks his fist with your used panties and calls your name… or well, how he wishes he could call you.
And then clarity hits him again, making him groan as he rushes to the bathroom on wobbly legs, throwing your stained panties inside and starting the washing machine while he questions himself; why? He feels pathetic; masturbating over you as if he needs to fantasize about you, as if he doesn’t have you every night, and every day, and yet, it’s still not enough, it’s not how he wants you. But he feels guilty, he feels like he won’t be enough if he confessed to you, if he let you know his secret. And most of all, he’s terrified he’ll lose you. This version of him is not the one you picked, is not the one you love. And he’d damn himself forever if he lost you for something so silly.
So, he sighs, takes a deep breath, and then exhales deeply, rubbing his teary eyes before pushing his tired body up from the wall to walk back to your bedroom and fix himself.
Jeno has a secret, and he will take it to his grave.
Your boyfriend has been acting strange for a while now. At first, you figured he was stressed because of work, but now, you don’t think that’s the only reason.
Your brain goes crazy, imagining the worst-case scenario, the top one: he wants to break up with you. So, you start acting strange, too. Panicking, over-analyzing everything, and mostly, bracing yourself for the worst. Every time he starts talking to you with a serious tone, you fear that those words will come out of his lips, especially when before starting the conversation he stares at you for minutes and thinks so loudly you can almost hear his thoughts.
But the worst never comes, this goes on for weeks, and even if your boyfriend does act strange, nothing of his weirdness leads to a breakup, literally nothing can make it plausible, and even your brain gives up keeping you up at night with the fear of you losing him.
Jeno has never been so touchy. His hands are always on your body, any excuse is valid to let his fingers wander on your skin; if he needs to help you pick up something, if he needs to reach for the remote, if he has to leave for work, anything as long as he gets to feel your warm body.
And that doesn’t shock you much, Jeno has always made it clear how much he finds you attractive and how obsessed and in love he is with you and your body, but well, not like this. His fingers seem almost fearful, and so are his lips when he kisses you, and even something about his eyes doesn’t seem quite right. And then there are those unsaid words that you can see pending from his lips, and yet, they never come out. Every phrase Jeno starts is followed by a stutter and a quick shake of the head, other times his cheeks turn bright red as he zones out and you have to shake him out of whatever he is thinking, and then he goes back to act though and shrug it all off as if nothing happened.
You don’t get it, and every time you try to ask if something’s wrong, he acts surprised and tells you everything’s alright. You don’t buy it, but you feel that if something’s annoying him, he will come talk to you when he’s ready, so you leave him alone.
Jeno has a secret, and you have to find out in a way you don’t like.
You don’t like to roam around and stick your nose in things that aren’t yours, honestly, you hate doing so because you would hate if somebody did that with your things.
But you’re bored, laying on your bed, waiting for Jeno to come out of the shower, and your phone is somewhere in the living room, and you’re bored.
Picking up his phone to play some games is not an invasion of privacy, it’s the only thing you do with his phone, and Jeno is fine with it — he even lets you download those ugly, ads-filled, games that pop up in ads of other annoying games, he doesn’t get them, he hates the graphic of most of them, and he doesn’t understand how you can survive so many ads, but it’s fine, anything that makes you happy because you saved the King from drowning, cleaned a hotel room or built a pretty land.
You would’ve minded your business if it wasn’t for one of those stupid games and ads, causing the app to crash and make you huff.
You’re pissed as you click the left bottom on the bottom of his screen to see all the apps and go back to your game, hoping it won’t die again, you’re so caught up that you almost miss the other window of Twitter and some other apps he used before.
But well, what you see is too shocking to make you go back to the business of your hotel.
You freeze, and a lump forms in your throat as you blink speechless with your mouth wide open. You feel the world could collapse under your feet but then you shake your head.
Dumb asshole, it’s fine. He might be bisexual, he’s not using you as a beard, right?
But you still stare at the video in shock, the only focus is on the naked man with a choker, moaning while the vibrator edges him, and the playful touches on his nipples make his hips rut.
And when Jeno comes out of the shower you’re still dumbfounded. Your eyes look up, and his smile drops as soon as he sees your face, it looks as if you saw a ghost, and he fears something has happened to you, but he barely manages to let out ‘are you ok?’ before you stop him.
“Are you gay?” You ask, nothing of the more rational questions you came up with before passing your lips.
He giggles nervously, eyes skimming you. “What?
You feel a lump in your throat and then reply. “What is this?” you lift the phone, video playing on mute, you can’t bear to hear the moans again. “Why are you watching porn and why are you watching porn focused on men? If you want to try something out you can tell me, but please, tell me I’m not your bearding girlfriend and this wasn’t all a lie.”
“A lie?” Jeno screams, feeling his heart pump hard in his chest. “It’s not and I’m not gay, I might be bi, but I never wanted to question much about it but... Wait, would it make you love me less?”
“No, God, no, but I don’t understand this,” you squeak, voice breaking a bit for the confusion you feel and also because his face dropped even more.
“It’s nothing,” Jeno says, abruptly taking the phone from your hand and closing the tab. His hands are shaking, he can’t believe he’s so fucking stupid, how could he not think about it? He always makes sure to close everything so that you can’t find out.
“Nothing?” You ask, eyes wide and a bit of sarcasm in your tone. “Why are you watching that kind of video...”
“I — I... It’s just something dumb the boys sent me,” he justifies, scratching his neck, but his eyes are everywhere except on yours.
You would believe him if only he wasn’t so evasive with his answers and body language, he’s a nerve wreck, he has to be hiding something. “Is it? Why would they do it?”
“I don’t know, you know they’re dumb,” he says and then pauses, biting his lips nervously before he gathers the courage to speak. “Did you watch it?”
You furrow, mumbling for a few seconds before replying as if it was obvious. “Yes.”
“All?”
“Yes, it’s not that long,” you reply without getting where he wants to go with these questions.
Jeno nods and bites his lips, strategically avoiding your gaze.
“Jeno...” You call and he hesitantly raises his face. “Are you sure you’re not lying to me? If you like men and only them it’s fine, I would be heartbroken, but I want you to be happy, and I —”
“Stop it! It’s not that,” he snaps, face burning red when your eyes meet and you’re looking at him with curiosity. He feels doomed, you don’t even get it so how can you be into it?
“Oh.” You gasp. “Oh.” It clicks. Your mind replays the video, catching the details you missed, and you get it. He wants those things to be done to him. He doesn’t want a man; he wants you to do that to him.
Jeno stills, fearing the worst from you. “I’m not into it, that video just came up and I was curious,” he tries to save himself but it’s too late.
“No,” you stop him, “you are into it. Don’t lie to me,” your tone drops a bit, and you study his reaction, he trembles, and his face reddens even more. You’ve never seen him so embarrassed and vulnerable in all those years you’ve dated. Jeno, Lee Jeno, blushing bright red and stammering on his words right in front of your eyes. You’re dreaming, that must be it, maybe you have a fantasy you’re not aware of yet and this is your brain poking the thought into you.
But you shake your head, rub your eyes, and he’s still there.
“Jeno?” You call his name again when he gives you his back, quickly trying to find his clothes and make this less embarrassing, considering the only thing covering him is the white towel he put on before. “Look at me,” your voice comes out stern when he doesn’t listen to you and with a big step forward you have him trapped against the wall. Your fingers reach his chin, lifting his face resolutely.
But Jeno still doesn’t reply; you see his Adam’s apple move in his neck and you feel his breath get discontinued, but nothing comes from his mouth.
You have two choices; play the game he wants you to play or have a serious conversation about this. You’d rather go for the last one, you’re not so sure you’d be a master at doing what he wants you to do, but it seems like there’s no room for a decent talk right now.
You cup his chin, squeezing it enough that his lips pout, something he always does to you. His eyes widen, and his hand immediately wraps around your wrist, yet he doesn’t try to push you away.
“Tell me, Nono,” you coo, voice low and teasing, “do you want to be teased like that?”
He shakes his head, quick movements causing some still damp strands of hair to fall on his eyes, “No, no, I don’t.”
You scoff, shaking your head before leaning closer. “Why are you lying to me?”
He mumbles, struggling to talk for the embarrassment and the hold you have on his face. “I’m not,” he cries out.
“Oh, really?” You ask, letting his face go, making him lose his balance now that he can’t hold onto you. “Then you have nothing to hide, right?” He nods, biting his thumb and looking at you like a dog with his tail between his legs. “So, I guess you won’t mind if I took your phone right now, right?”
His eyes widen and his thumb falls from his lips. “Bu-but wh-why?”
You burst out laughing, holding your stomach in an exaggerated mocking move. “Bu-but wh-why?” you taunt him, imitating his high-pitched trembling voice. “Phone, now.”
Jeno’s not sure how to feel. This is what he wanted, right? And you don’t seem… mad. So why does he feel so embarrassed as he grabs the phone and hands it to you?
You smile and then open Twitter. You notice he has two accounts and when you scroll through the likes, the retweets, and more, you’re speechless. Well, now that you have him in front of you, so pliant, shaking, and red in the face, it’s not surprising anymore, but the Jeno you’re used to is not like this.
Men tied up and edged until they whimper and beg to come, rough face sitting, pegging videos, and captions about ‘good boys’ being used as sex toys by their ‘dominant mommy’, are all you see. You sigh and throw the phone on the bed carelessly.
“I’m sorry,” Jeno cries out, falling on his knees right in front of you. “I didn’t mean to disappoint you. I don’t need that, I swear I don’t, I can still be your usual boyfriend, I’ll fuck you so good, I promise I —”
You shut him up with a kiss, it’s rough and quick, enough to leave him surprised and, momentary, speechless. “Will you stop mumbling no-sense?”
“But I —”
“No, shh,” you say, thumb on his lips to keep him quiet. “Did I say anything? Did I look disappointed?” You ask, tilting your head to the side and he shakes his head. Honestly, he has no idea, he was too worried panicking to actually pay attention to your reaction. “Did I ask you to apologize? Do I look disgusted to you?”
“N-no,” he mumbles, but his eyes are still leaking tears.
“No, exactly,” you reassure. Your hand moves to the back of his neck, wrapping around the long hair at the nape before tugging and yanking his head back. “Now can we be serious and face this or do you want to keep crying at my feet?”
That shouldn’t make his dick twitch in the — now incredibly tight —towel but it does, still, he hopes you didn’t catch it, and nods swiftly.
“Good,” you smile slyly. You saw it, but that’s something you’re going to deal with later. “Stop lying and be honest with me. Do you want me to do this to you?” Your other hand moves down on his neck, creeping on his toned chest until it reaches his hard nipples, and when you brush one, he whimpers. Jeno tries to hide it, closing his eyes and pressing his lips together, but his body is reacting on its own, and it has never been more of an open book.
You never paid his body much attention, always letting him do anything to you, so this is… new, and interesting.
Your fingers play with the other one, rubbing against the sensitive tip and watching him struggle to keep it all in. “Sensitive much, aren’t you?”
He nods quickly, head falling down but you tug it back again, making him groan lowly.
“Head up,” you order, leaning down to come face to face, breath fanning against his, “and answer me. Do you like it when I play with your nipples?”
“Yeah — yeah, I like it,” he breathes out, leaning in to kiss your lips but you pull away.
“Ah, ah,” you click your tongue, shaking your head, “not yet, baby boy. You’ve been naughty, keeping important things from me. So now you’re going to earn it, alright?”
Jeno nods faster than he would want to, hips shaking on his heels in excitement like a dog wagging his tail.
You think it’s cute, he’s cute. And you still don’t quite know how to do this, how to be on the other side, but something inside of you makes you feel confident enough to think it’s worth giving a try. You like to be on the receiving end, so you have to give him what you usually like to receive. Also, you’ve encountered femdom content before, even liked it, never explored it much, but this might be fun.
“Words.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
You raise a brow at the title, but you like the way it rolls from his lips, and it makes your body react, pussy clenching around nothing and stomach twisting in anticipation.
“Good boy,” you reward him. You love being called a good girl, so you think he’s going to like that too, and he does. His smile grows bigger, cheeks tinting red again, and most importantly, his dick reacts, twitching against the towel.
You think it’s time to set it free, so your hand grabs the hem and pulls the white clothes off him. Jeno whimpers, hands quickly going to cover his hard, throbbing dick — well, trying to, it’s too big to hide anything.
You laugh at his lame attempt, slapping his hands away. “Getting shy now? I’ve seen it and felt it countless times, don’t you agree? Or, I don’t know, have you forgotten? Maybe your brain stops working when you’re… like this,” you finish with a teasing look from his head to his bent knees, rubbing against the hard floor and becoming red.
Jeno shivers, shaking his head, but for some reason, he feels even more embarrassed. He’s not used to being in this position, and all the times he imagined to be here, he didn’t think you would be like this. You’re not much shorter than him, but you are, and now you’re towering over him, your gaze is piercing through his soul, and your voice is sultry like it has never been. He wanted this so badly but even if he fantasized for months, now, he doubts he can take you.
You sigh, rolling your head. “How many times do I have to say it? Words.”
Jeno frowns momentarily, he knows you’re having a ball because usually, he wants you to talk back to him even if he’s fucking the fourth orgasm out of you. But his ‘anger’ doesn’t last. He nods, and then apologizes. “Sorry, I’m so sorry, ma’am. You can see it.”
“Of course, I can,” you say, kneeling to his eye level, “it’s mine.” Two of your fingers brush on his hard cock, tracing the thick vein that run on the side, the one that rub your sensitive walls so good when he’s pounding into you.
He nods quickly, swallowing hard to don’t moan shamelessly, and then stutters on his words. “You-yours. You can do — do whatever you want.”
You smile widely and tilt your head because it’s not a dominant smile. You might like this a lot. You might like this more than you anticipated. There’s something thrilling about having him like this, in your hands, to play with, to tease, to edge, to push to the limit. He’s yours, like always, and yet, in a way he has never been.
“Tell me what you want me to do?” You order, those videos are not enough to give you the green light. You need to hear it from him, a bit because you’re lost on your path, but also because you need to hear him describe those things out loud and beg you to do that to him.
Jeno thinks his face might burn up in a second. Sure, if he ever dared to bring this up to you in a conversation, he would’ve had to explain it to you, but he would’ve been dressed, not hard, and his brain would’ve been functioning. Now he’s none of these things. Yet, he tries.
“I — I want you,” he starts, wetting his lips. but he fails to find the words. You want explicit things, he knows it, he can see it in your eyes burning up with desire, but he wants to be honest first, at least now that he has a bit of rationality left. “I want to be your good boy. I want to — to just give up control for once and let you do everything. I want you to control me, to move me around, to make me feel light, to make me feel like I’m… nothing but not really nothing, I want to…” he gulps, forcing himself to keep eye contact because he wants to be good, but it’s not easy. Nothing happened yet, and he’s already a victim of the electricity that’s running in the air. “I want to don’t think. I want you to fuck my brain out until I forget who I am, I want you to tell me what to do, to order it to me. But I also want to feel safe… taken care of.”
It takes you a while to metabolize everything he told you, especially the last part, and you put a reminder in your brain to discuss that later. But now you kiss him, finally giving him what he craves. You wanted to make him wait a bit longer, but you feel like he needs it. It seems that all of this has been bothering him more than you think, and he needs comfort.
“And I’m going to give it to you, if you trust me,” you say when you pull away, softly caressing his cheek with your other hand.
“I do, I trust you,” he replies, hips rubbing against your hand. You give him a quick, stern look and he stops, smile dropping.
“Get on the bed and you won’t have to hump my hand like a puppy in heat,” you order and he’s quickly — stumbling and almost falling — on his feet, walking to the bed.
Once he’s laying on the bed, you follow him, crawling on top of him, your legs trapping him down. You leave kisses on his neck, and as a response his head rolls back, leaving you more room to paint his skin with bites and kisses. And while he’s distracted with that, your hands reach his nipples. His hips buck up and he whimpers.
He’s so sensitive, you can’t believe you didn’t discover this before.
Your fingers play with his sensitive buds, at first, you just rub your fingers on them, but then you get more adventurous studying his reaction. Jeno likes it when you pinch them between two fingers, it makes him hiss and moan, while his hips grind against you. He also likes it when you roll them, low curses escaping his tortured pink lips.
After a while, you decide to pay attention to his whole chest. You won’t lie, you always loved his tits, but you appreciated them from afar, when they were wrapped under the skintight white shirt he loves to wear, or when they played hide and seek under his loose tank tops. When he fucks you, your hands always wander somewhere else, busy trying to hold onto his arms and back for dear life. But now, your hands caress his skin, cupping them as you try to hide a giggle and stay in your role — you definitely need to work on your dominance — and tease his nipples every now and then.
“Fuck,” Jeno bites his tongue, dick rutting against your body, droplets of white shamelessly dripping from his head, staining his length and abs.
“You’re so sensitive it’s almost pathetic,” you try out, testing the waters. You fear you might trigger him, but instead, he moans louder at your words, throwing his head back more, and his dick throbs. “I’m barely touching you and you’re already a mess. You dreamed this so long, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he whimpers, his hips still grinding against you, desperately chasing for release, but you pull away. “No, please,” his voice breaks and tears swell at the corner of his eyes. Jeno is so fucking pretty like this, you have to fight back the urge to reach for the phone and snap a picture.
“Just relax, and focus on the parts I’m touching,” you say, kissing him to shut his whines down. “Let me take care of you.”
And he would, he does, he wants you to take care of him. If only this wasn’t so embarrassing, whimpering and squirming just from having his nipples played with. He wants to hold it in, he can push back an orgasm, but all his good intentions fly out of the window when your mouth wraps around the left sensitive one and your fingers pinch and twist the other one.
It’s not his fault he’s so sensitive.
“Oh God,” he cries out through gritted teeth, knuckles going white for how hard his hands are clenching around the sheets. Jeno feels dizzy, your mouth sucks harshly on his sensitive spot, quickly moving from one side to the other, never leaving him with no stimulation, your fingers are just as swift at taking the place your lips left. “Please, please, fuck,” he begs, hips stuttering messily, and legs parting as his body jerks with pleasure.
“Be a good boy and come for me,” you mumble against his skin, eyes looking up at his. And that’s the last drop for him; the realization that you saw him — and made him — this weak, even the slight humiliation he feels with it.
Jeno comes undone. Long, whiny moans and whimpers slurring out of his plump lips as his body stills before breaking into violent trembles, it’s powerful and overwhelming, and it makes him cry. Mumbles of your name follow when you don’t stop, fingers and tongue moving quickly on his nipples.
“Please, please, stop,” he cries, trying to push you away, “can’t take it anymore.”
You pull away, snickering as you watch the cum drip down his body. His chest is heaving, and his body is slumped against the headboard.
“Was it good?”
Jeno nods, his movements are slow, and his eyelids are almost close, but he still makes out your face, and smiles shyly. “More,” he begs and then adds, “please. If you want to.”
You smile, he’s so polite. “Are you sure you can take more?”
“Yes, yes, I just — I needed to calm down,” he explains, running a hand through his hair that covered his eyes messily.
“Lay on the bed,” you order before standing up.
He follows your order, feeling his body ache as he gets in position, but it all fades in the background when his gaze falls on your body, watching you move to throw your clothes on the floor.
“So,” you’re on top of him, you got rid of your skirt and top, the only clothes on your body are your — drenched — panties and the bra, “what do you want me to do with you?”
Jeno thought the embarrassing part had passed, but, lord, if he was wrong. Because he’s not prepared in the slightest to ask you what he’s about to ask. You will break up with him, this will be the last straw.
“Pup?” Your voice brings him out of his delirium, and he coughs. “You with me?”
He nods, struggling to find the words. “Please,” he whines, “don’t — don’t leave me.”
“Leave you?” You ask, a small frown forms on your forehead while your head lightly bends to the side to look at him. You almost look so innocent and harmless like this, but you’re not. You have all the power and control, and Jeno loves this and hates this at the same time. Maybe all of this is more mental than what he thought in the first place, or maybe he needs to relax, stop worrying so much, and just beg you. Beg you to fuck him, beg you to turn him into a brainless mess in the same way he had done in these past few months: pleading with his face smashed against a pillow to muffle his pathetic moans and his fist wrapped around his cock or his fingers inside of him, fooling himself that was you doing that to him.
“Please, fuck me,” he breaks, eyes panicking and looking around the room before you grab his face with a strong old on his chin.
“Say it again,” you order. Your face is relaxed now and the pout on your lips is rapidly swiped away by a sly smirk.
“Please, please, fuck me, ma’am?” He asks, eyes softening as he looks into yours. He’s such a good boy, so obedient, so, so good. So, you’re about to give him what he wants, and what you want, grabbing the base of his hardening dick and teasing it against your pussy, moving the crotch of the panties to the side, but he surprises you.
“No,” Jeno cries, voice breaking again, “not like this. Not now.”
You stop, stilling and looking at him, eyes blinking as you try to understand what he means. “Not like this? And how do you want me to fuck you?”
“I — I,” he stutters, flashes of warmth heating his body up again, not that it ever really stopped, to be honest, it just keeps getting worse.
“You — you?” You urge, mocking him, mimicking his voice with a condescending tone.
He frowns offended — and his dick throbs, but he won’t pay attention to that — but then goes on. “I want your — your fingers.”
“Oh,” you say, a smug grin on your face. “A handjob?” You know what he wants, you know where he wants it, but what you want, is to mess up with him.
“No, no,” he whines, shaking his head, reaching for your hand with his before you slap it away, making him groan in annoyance. “Please.”
“Please and no, are those the words that a good pup says?”
“No, miss, I’m sorry.”
“Good, then use your big boy words and tell me what you want. Details, or I won’t give it to you.”
Jeno swallows, inhaling deeply before confessing. “I want your fingers in my ass, please. I want you to fuck me with your fingers, miss.”
“Oh, now that’s clear,” you say, smiling tenderly and patting his head. He melts under your touch, and you keep a reminder to yourself to head pat him more often. “Good boy, telling me exactly what he needs.”
You get up to grab the lube from the drawer but when you open it, it’s not there. You scowl, scratching your head as you try to remember if you finished it and didn’t buy it again, but you don’t use it that often, so it can’t be.
“Where the hell —” you stop when, turning around, you see the blue bottle peeking from under the bed, you kneel to grab it and see that it’s badly closed. “You fucked yourself before?” You enquire, tilting your head, watching his face flush bright red even more, he tries to avoid your gaze, but you trot to him and force his face on you. “You were so desperate you couldn’t help but fuck yourself with your fingers?”
“I’m — I’m sorry, miss, I didn’t mean to,” he justifies, throat dry and heart beating fast. He doesn’t want to disappoint you, he would’ve waited, he wouldn’t have done that, but he needed that, he was terrible at putting this fantasy behind and he needed a release. But he’s still you’re good boy, right? You’re not mad at him for this?
You scoff, clicking your tongue, crawling on the bed. “You didn’t mean to, sure… fucking yourself behind my back, pff,” you scoff. “Tell me, were you thinking of me? My fingers deep inside of you? My hand wrapped around the base of your cock?” Jeno nods eagerly as you pour lube on your fingertips. “Were you calling my name? Whimpering like the desperate puppy that you are? Calling me ma’am and miss, maybe even mommy when you fuck yourself good enough,” all throughout the talk your fingers slip deep inside of him, making him gasp and hold onto the sheets under him.
“Fuck,” he curses, not expecting you to push two fingers inside with no warning. But the surprise turns into bliss in the beat of an eye. Your fingers are slender, and yes, they’re not as long and thick as his are, but they are yours. And you’re so good at moving them inside of him, curling them up, moving them with a firm rhythm, reaching the bottom, and then pulling out, that he has nothing to complain about. “Feels so good,” he somehow manages to let you know. You think it’s cute, his voice doesn’t sound like the usual, it’s whiny, trembling, and full of desperation. His eyes are watery, and you think the red on his cheeks won’t disappear soon.
Jeno is lost in the pleasure, thinking he has never felt better, he’s almost relaxed, lulling in the sensation that sends sparks down his spine. But you want to give him more and your other hand folds his balls, making him hiss and shaking him out of that haze.
“It’s alright, baby boy,” you reassure him, but he’s not sure. Especially when you spit on his dick, adding to the mess of his cum, and run your hand on his length. He wishes you would keep doing this, but instead, you torture him; while your fingers work him open, your hand focuses on his frenulum, massaging his most sensitive spot until he’s a crying and trembling mess again.
“No, no,” he whines when your lips start kissing his leaking tip. “Sensitive — I’m…” his voice breaks and dies in his throat when your lips wrap around it. He has you everywhere and he’s not used to this. He’s not used to feeling so much and giving so little — in his mind, to give you nothing, but to you, he’s giving you a lot. This vulnerable side of him is much more than anything else. “I — I can touch you, I can —”
You shut him up with a slap on his thigh. “You can lay there and take it,” you say firmly but without stopping your movements.
He nods quickly, lips pressed in a thin line, but the pleasure is so big that his moans and whimpers just rumble in his chest.
“Moan, Jeno,” you call him out. “I want to hear you moan for me.”
“But —”
“But?” You scold, glaring at him and stilling your fingers inside him. “Are you going to talk back to me and tell me what to do?” He shakes his head quickly, mumbling apologizes. “I think so, do you want to be my good boy?”
“Yes, yes, please,” he cries, hips bucking up, at first you think he’s doing that to feel your fingers but he’s just that desperate. He truly acts like a puppy too excited to be your good boy to even think straight, his body moving on its own. If he had a tail, he would wiggle it like crazy.
“You want to be my good pup?” You ask again, your fingers pull out and then push in, dragging a low gasp from his lips.
“Yes, I want to. Want to be your good puppy, please.”
“Then do what I tell you to do,” you remind him, your hands go back to his cock, throbbing on his abs and leaking pre-cum. It’s almost… funny how big he is —body and dick— and how helpless and powerless he looks, begging for attention as if he couldn’t just take it from you, ordering you, fucking you. But he lays there, pathetically drooling on the pillow, while his dick drips on his stomach and his ass clenches around your two fingers.
His sounds are like music to your ears, and the vision in front of your eyes makes your pussy drool more, you can’t believe you’re so turned on when fifteen minutes ago you were almost throwing a tantrum for this. But Jeno looks like the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen, and you wonder if he feels this way when it’s the other way around. All you know is that you’re mesmerized, eyes stuck where your bodies connect, his hole fluttering around you, the lube squelching in and out, and his toned, strong legs spread open just for you. Then they move up, the way his dick is throbbing in your hand and spills pre-cum, his chest rising fast, his hands clenched around the sheets. And his face, his eyes are closed but you know they’re rolled back behind his eyelids, his lips are swollen and dark pink, parted open to fill the room with the most desperate whines, his hair is a mess again, scattered around the pillow and his forehead.
“Fuck, fuck,” he whines, lifting his hips from the mattress when you hit him deeper and your hand starts moving faster on him. “Feels good, feels so good, you’re so good, you’re — you’re perfect, I love you, I love you,” he cries out, head rolled back as he lets the pleasure rush through his body.
You smirk at his words, the desperation and devotion behind his voice making shivers run down your spine. “Are you going to come?” You ask, already knowing the answer, watching him nod quickly. “Yeah? Will you be a good boy and come from my fingers only?” Your hand leaves his dick, eliciting a disappointed noise from him, but his breath gets cut off when you add another finger inside of him.
“Please,” he cries, the stretch of the three fingers making his hips move even more from the mattress, only to stop when your hand, flat on his stomach, keeps him pinned down.
“Stop squirming, or I won’t make you come and keep edging you until you pass out.”
It should be a threat, but it doesn’t even sound so bad to him, but not now, maybe one day, now he wants you, and wants to come as soon as possible. So, his hips still, the nervous twitching passing down to his leg but it’s fine, it doesn’t get in the way.
“Good boy,” you praise, patting his head, and making him smile. “Be even a better boy and come for me.”
You don’t have to tell him twice before his orgasm erupts, his body shakes before stilling completely, spurts of white spilling on his stomach, even reaching the sheets as his cock throbs in release and his hole flutters around your three fingers that are still pumping in and out at a fast speed. Slurs of curses roll from his tongue, and so does your name, while his chest rises fast before his body slumps against the mattress.
“Please, please, stop,” he cries out, feeling overstimulated.
You listen, pulling your fingers out and cleaning them on his thigh before leaning forward to kiss him.
“Want you, mommy, please,” he pleads, tears rolling down his temple while his hands look for the warmth of your body. “Please, fuck me, need to feel you.”
“Calm down,” you say, giggling at his cuteness and eagerness and get rid of your panties, throwing them behind with no care, and then follows the bra.
Jeno feels less embarrassed now that you’re exposed too, and gets lost in your body for a few seconds before he bites back a moan when your warm and wet skin makes contact with him. “I — I can fuck you, I can make you feel good, too,” he promises. “Be your good boy and fu–fuck you well.”
You smile tenderly, teasing him as you grind your hips rubbing your pussy on his dick that’s resting on his stomach. “Oh, I know you can.”
“Please, please,” Jeno cries out more. His dick is incredibly sensitive, it’s painfully aching, begging to be wrapped by something after all this teasing. You barely paid it any attention this whole time. “Let me be your good boy, use me,” his voice breaks and he almost chokes on his words as his pleading eyes stare at you for mercy. “Use my — use my cock as you please. Use me like your toy,” he says, “your good toy.”
It almost breaks your heart; he needs validation so badly and you feel genuinely bad for never noticing this before. You just thought he was always so strong and confident; you didn’t think he needed reassurance so much.
“Here, pup,” you say, sinking into him.
Jeno’s head rolls back, his hands clasping around your waist, but his hold, even if it’s strong, is different from all the other times before.
“Fuck, mommy, feel so good.” The way your warm walls wrap around him send him straight to heaven, you’re wet and fit perfectly around him.
“Yeah, you too, baby. You feel so good,” you curse through gritted teeth. He might be a mess underneath you, whimpering, crying, and begging, but that doesn’t make his cock shrink. Jeno’s big, and you should be used to it by now, but somehow it still feels like it splits you open every time.
“Please, fuck me!” Jeno laments loudly, bouncing his hips against yours, but a stern look from you makes him stop and apologize, “So-sorry, fuck me, please?” This time his voice is soft and polite, a desperate edge but with no eagerness behind — yes, there is, but he tries hard not to show it.
“Oh, fuck,” he screams when you lift your body up and slam back into him. You’re a lazy rider usually, and to be more honest, you’re just never a rider, 90% of the time riding his dick is a punishment to make you work for it, but now… well, you kept your skills well stored in. “Oh God, oh God, oh God,” he whimpers, hands clenching hard around your waist until his knuckles go white.
“What? You wanted me to fuck you so badly, and now? Bit more than you can chew? Is this too much for you, pretty boy? You can’t take it?”
Jeno shakes his head. “No, no I can, ma’am, I can,” he whimpers, biting his lips harshly.
“That’s what I wanted to hear,” you hum in satisfaction. Your hands fall at the sides of his head, your smaller body somehow still hovers over him and makes him feel smaller than ever. Your intense stare pins him to the mattress even more, making him shiver. “Give me your hands,” you order, but Jeno doesn’t listen — he doesn’t even hear, too lost in you to pay attention to your voice. “God,” you huff, rolling your eyes back, “I really have to do everything on my own because you’re just that dumb.” You forcefully grab his wrists, pushing his arms over his head and keeping them locked against the bed.
“No, I’m — I’m sorry, I — I wasn’t.”
“Yeah, you weren’t,” you mock, stilling before starting to pick up the pace again, “you weren’t listening ‘cause you can only focus on how good I’m making you feel, right? Stupid, dumb puppy can only think about his pleasure.”
“No, no, please, forgive me,” he begs, tears streaking down his face, and words coming out between gags and moans.
“Can you fuck back into me? Or are you too fucked out to do that?”
“No, no, I can. I’ll be good, I’ll be good for you, miss,” he promises, lifting his hips to meet you halfway, but his body feels so heavy and his brain is mush, unable to send signals to his muscles.
Your head rolls back and your hands wrap tighter around his wrists, you find yourself grinding against him, rubbing your clit every time you bottom all the way down. But Jeno’s thrusts are sloppy and messy, he’s not even that bad when he’s about to come. “Stupid puppy,” you taunt, slapping his ass. “Can’t even fuck me after all the pleasure I gave you.”
Jeno sobs, literally, loud cries coming from the back of his throat making him almost choke, and you’re about to stop everything in worry before you realize that’s not because you went too far — partially, maybe, he’s not really happy to be said he’s bad — but because he’s close again and he loves the way you talk down to him and slap him.
“Are you coming again?” You ask in utter surprise because you can’t believe it.
But he shakes his head, he’s fighting against himself to hold it back, and for the sake of having at least an orgasm too, you stop your movements.
“I won’t — won’t come,” he mumbles, lips quivering. “Can’t you… can’t you just use me?” he wails. “Please, I’m too tired. Just… use me like a…” The last words are a slur lower than a whisper, and his head turned to the side doesn’t help you hearing what he said.
You tilt your head to the side, cupping his chin to force him to look at you. “Repeat loud and clear if you don’t want to regret it.”
Jeno gulps, nodding vigorously, but his voice still shakes, and his cheeks burn red again as he repeats. “Use me like a dildo, please.”
“Oh… so, this is how you want to be good to me?” You ask, grinding your hips against him, the stimulation is bare for you but so much for him that you trigger whines and whimpers out of him.
“But it will feel good, even if I don’t move, you know it,” he tries to reason, pleading with his glossy eyes. “I can eat you out after, or — or now, whatever you please, miss.”
“Whatever I please, uhm?” You ask, grinning.
“Yes, ma’am, I’ll do whatever you want.”
You smile, caressing his face, smearing the wet mess around before your hand pats his head. “You’re lucky I want you exactly like this, like a toy.” You start fucking him with no warning, and a gasp rips from his vocal cords before he starts moaning again.
His eyes roll back at each of your hard thrusts, and you see his hands itch because he can’t touch you, but you don’t loosen the hold on him. You feel strong, a kind of power you didn’t even know you had in you, and you don’t want this to stop.
Jeno’s entire body trembles when your hand wraps around his neck, squeezing just enough to dim the flow of air in his lungs. It’s hot but unexpected, just like it’s unexpected that he almost comes on the spot.
“Oh, oh,” you hum in delight, the corner of your lips lifting as you stare at him. “You like it…” Jeno tries to deny but you can read his body; you felt his dick throb inside of you, his eyes flicker to you in light panic before rolling in his skull again, and his breath falter. “Don’t deny it, it wouldn’t be the most pathetic thing you get off to,” you mock, making him blush again. “It’s alright, you can be my naughty boy, I won’t judge.”
He can only hum, and now that you look better in his eyes, you see there’s something completely different behind them. He’s in a completely different headspace, and you fear he won’t last much longer.
It’s the same for you, the thrill and adrenaline can only push you so far, you’re not used to this, bouncing your hips harshly on his cock and having control, your thighs are starting to scream, and your brain doesn’t want to pay them attention but you both know you’re both at the finish line for this first time. Not to add, you’re in desperate need of an orgasm.
“Ti-tight,” Jeno gasps when your hold on his neck loosens enough to let him breathe in normally again, just the time that he can take a few breaths before it fastens again, it’s not too tight, it’s your first time, you don’t want to end with him passed out on the floor, but it’s enough to do its job.
“Yeah? Too tight for you? Can’t take it?”
He moves his head randomly, frenetic movements as he moves his lips to talk, useless. Your cunt is sucking away every coherent thought in his mind, the only thing filling his brain: you and the need to release.
“Don’t talk, don’t need it. I know you’re too sensitive, wanted me so much only to shake underneath me because I’m fucking you too well. Can’t even form a coherent thought in that stupid, little brain of yours, can you?”
He shakes his head, tears streaming down, but you kiss them — lick them — away.
“It’s alright, I don’t want you to think. I like it when your brain is empty. Your just my pretty boy, right? Pretty, good boy that let’s mommy fuck him?”
His nods are eager, and without even realizing his tongue lolls out. You pout at the view, patting his head when you let go of his neck, making him breathe. “Good pup. Just look pretty for me.”
“Pre-pretty,” he whimpers before a fucked-out smile paints his face.
“Yes, baby, you are,” you kiss his lips, petting his hair another time.
“Co-come, wanna come, please. Let me — let me come, ma’am,” he cries out when he has enough air in his lungs and sense in his brain. “Be-begging. I’m beg — mmph,” his words die in his mouth and his eyes squeeze tight when you voluntarily squeeze harder around him.
“Begging? Is this how a good boy begs?” You ask, looking at him sternly, not that it lasts long, because when his eyes open into yours, you fold.
“’M sorry, so-sorry,” he apologizes, “please, miss, let me come, let me come inside of you, let me fill you up. You’ll — you’ll feel good, I promise,” his words are all slurred out together, spit drips from his lips down to his chin and neck, and his body is burning up, if it didn’t mean to edge and denying an orgasm to yourself too, you would probably push him farther, curious to see how far he can go. But for now, it’s fine, he’s a good boy, he deserves it, and so do you.
“Please, please, please, ma’am.”
“You’ve been so good, baby. You can come.”
When you give him the green light, his body explodes, his hips even shyly chase the orgasm up against you, fucking back into you lazily. His head rolls back and as soon as your hand sets him free, his hands find your hips, holding them tight, hissing and groaning when you hold yourself up on his chest, nails digging into his skin as your body keeps bouncing up and down, riding your orgasms.
Your body collapses on his, exhausted and boneless just like his, and his arms wrap around it right away while he still sobs and whimpers in the crook of your neck.
“Shh, it’s alright, you’re alright,” you whisper in his ear while your hand caress his hair, wet again but not with water.
“Don’t — don’t pull out,” he whines when you lift your body, “nooo, don’t leave me.”
“I’m here,” you reassure him right away, carrying his body with yours so you lay on the side and can pull him in a hug. “I’m right here, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Good,” he mumbles, hiding between your chest and neck. “Tha-thank you, mhh, thank you for —” his voice breaks and his sobs get a bit louder as he hides more in your hold.
“Hey, it’s fine, take your time,” you say, still soothing him with circular movements on his back and soft rubs on his hair.
Jeno wants to talk, he has many things to say, damn, even an explanation to give to you, but he feels his body is heavy, he feels on a cloud, and you are the softness all over him, he feels safe, something he’s not used to feeling. You didn’t get mad at this, you won’t get mad if he falls asleep for a while, right? If he lulls in this sense of comfort and the aftermaths of what happened.
And almost as if you read his mind… “You can sleep if you want,” you say, kissing his forehead gently and rubbing his nape.
And he has no strength to reply as his body falls into a deep sleep.
When he wakes up, he’s not naked anymore, a big white shirt is around his body, covering just enough so he’s not completely exposed. The mattress is stripped from the dirty sheets and there’s a glass of water on the bedside table, but you’re not next to him.
Jeno almost panics, feeling the post-nut clarity made you run away scared and disgusted, but then the door opens, and you’re there. And it’s the same you he loves deeply. He can breathe again.
“Oh, hi, babe,” you greet with a big smile. You’re holding something in your hands and you’re wearing one of his shirts. “Feeling better?”
Jeno gulps, nodding and smiling at you, words are hard to find.
“Still too fucked out to talk?” You joke, slumping on the bed next to him, handing him the package of his favorite snacks. “Figured you needed some sugar after all that whimpering and squirming.”
“Oh, please, shut up,” he says, hiding his red face behind his hands.
“Hey, you were cute,” you say, grabbing his hands to move them out of the way. “I — I liked it. Did you?”
He nods quickly, okay maybe he’s still a little into that headspace.
You smile and then pout. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me about it. I’m always so loud and open about everything I want to try and… it never crossed my mind you might have different needs. I don’t know if you’re hiding anything else, but you can talk to me about everything. I love you and even if I might not be into something I won’t let it be the reason for a break-up, or a fight, or worse, making fun of you,” you say, grabbing his hands. “We can always try and then see the outcome. I mean, all that dominance before was improvisation, I was nervous as fuck too, I just tried to act like you usually do, tell me I was good,” you say, scrunching your face as you wait for his opinion.
Jeno laughs, it’s a genuine laugh, and you can almost see the weight being lifted off his chest. You still feel guilty for not making it feel like you could be a safe place for him, but it’s over now.
“You were really good,” he reassures you. “And… yes, I was a bit afraid of your reaction, but it was also something that had to do with myself. I’m — I’ve always been the strong one since I was a kid and then growing up it also turned into being this big ass man with muscles, so the pressure didn’t help.”
You nod in understanding. It makes you feel a bit less guilty, but you feel like there’s something else. “Is this all?”
“I also always have to be confident, but… I get insecure. I just feel like people are so used to me never making mistakes that they don’t even see my struggles or how hard I work for things, so all my hard work goes unnoticed. But I… I want to be… praised, I want to be told I’m doing good, I want people to tell me they’re proud of me.”
You cup his cheek gently and then kiss his nose, making him giggle. ��I’m so proud of you, I tell you that, don’t I?”
“Yeah, you do, you’re the only one,” he says, leg bouncing nervously as he tries to find the words. But you’re holding his hand, rubbing circles on his palm and that’s calming him down a bit, or maybe not because he feels like he’s about to cry again.
“Hey,” you caress his chin and then rub your thumb on his cheek, your touch is soft, and his brain shuts off once again. It’s like he’s taking back all the wasted time he had to act tough and don’t melt in your touch. “I’m here, alright? Take your time.”
Jeno nods, small hums slipping out of his lips before he finds the courage to talk. “I don’t know, sometimes I just… I want to feel small. And I want to be the one getting cuddled and petted, and just taken care of. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love doing that for you, but… I always see you being so carefree when you’re with me and sometimes I get… so, so jealous because you can… you can loosen up, turn your brain off and no one will judge you. But if I do it, if I get… vulnerable in your hands, I don’t know what people will say.”
You caress his cheek before your hand runs in his hair, not only because it’s covering his handsome face again, but also because you learned he likes it a lot, and as expected, he smiles. “Do people need to know?”
He tilts his head and furrows in confusion. “They don’t?”
“I doubt people care about our sexual life, or what we do in our home. So, this can be our secret, at least until you’ll feel comfortable enough to let loose even outside of these walls. If you’ll share this with me, it will be less heavy, right?”
Jeno nods, smiling and pushing back tears.
“Hey, crybaby today, aren’t you? Come here,” you say, pulling him into a hug. He holds you tight, still afraid you might slip from his hold, and breathes deep your scent.
When you pull away, Jeno’s looking into your eyes and you hum to signal him he can talk.
“Thank you, I don’t know what I would do without you. Seriously, you made me feel safe and not judged, it means the world to me.”
“It’s the way you make me feel always, I’m glad you could feel that way too. And I proved I can protect you even if I don’t have all your muscles,” you joke, lifting your arm and flexing your not-trained bicep, making him laugh. “But seriously, I would never judge you, and I really love this version of you, so, unleash it more often.”
Jeno smiles widely, his eyes turning up in his usual half-moons, and then he lays on the bed, tapping the space next to him. You beam and crawl next to him, pulling him closer again, his head rests on your chest while your hands caress his hair and you just relax in the silence of the house.
“I love you,” you whisper, kissing the top of his head, his hair tickling you for a second. “And I’ll love every version of you, in any universe.”
Jeno still has a secret, but luckily, he has you to share it with.
𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @rbf-aceu ; @shiningnono ; @jaeminsbebu | general taglist: @froggyforyoongi , @wingsss45 ; @tddyhyck ; @technologyculturedneo
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#nct fanfiction#jeno smut#lee jeno smut#sub!jeno#jeno hard hours#jeno hard thoughts#nct dream smut#sub!nct#sub!nct dream#nct smut#dom!reader#sub!idol#nct dream hard hours#nct hard hours
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father charlie mayhew x undercover detective fem! reader/that one fleabag scene
5k words (i went crazy with this one)
oh boy where do i begin
TAGS: siren reader!, AFAB reader, religious themes, nonreligious reader, confession booth is sexy, oraI male receiving, big d!ck charlie, dubious consent, p in v, no protection, breeding cuz duh it’s me, blood k!nk (if u squint)
after lois was nearly detained for being belligerently drunk at work, the FBI called you in. not to work alongside her no, to survey and investigate the community. the crimes surrounded her. you became lois’s daughter’s “friend” living with her and hanging around whenever you could. fortunately for both of you, lois did actually like your company and so did her daughter.
with some miracle you became a part of her everyday life, even tagging along when she met sister megan once. the nun was peculiar and although you weren’t nearly as trusting as lois you liked her enough to fake your way into an unlikely friendship. you the hard on her luck “college student” and her the eccentric murder-obsessed nun. it worked well enough for a cover story and she seemed to buy it. given your experience you knew enough about murderers to get along with her, pretending to share her passion for serial killers and the like. she had mentioned visiting the diner over text one day, you thought it a great opportunity to get out and people watch but what you didn’t expect was that she had company.
you knew megan was unconventional to say the least but you didn’t expect her to be on a date with, the looks of it, a lady killer. the closer you got the more you had to mask your reaction, she was with the new priest. you just didn’t expect him to be near your age and straight out of a GQ magazine. you willed a smile to your lips as you sauntered to the side of her booth, throwing an around the back of her seat and leaning down. megan tore her eyes away from the priest, meeting yours after what felt like minutes. you didn’t blame her, you were having a hard time ignoring him as well. “megan! hey i hope i'm not interrupting.” you finally looked pointedly towards him, your smile withering as you met his chocolate eyes. you hadn’t seen eyes so dark in a while.
“did something happen?” she assumed you had an update, it wouldn’t be the first time since you lived so close to lois. you sometimes told her details to gain her trust, of course clearing it with lois first. you pretended you did, pretended whatever you had to say was not for the eyes of a very curious priest. his eyes hadn’t left you since you interrupted.
“no, uh we can talk later.” you motioned slightly towards him and megan realized she’d never made introductions. she broke eye contact turning towards the priest, finding him already looking at you, well more so the small sliver of skin your crop top displayed above your skirt from the way you stretched over her booth. she knew father mayhew was less traditional but she didn’t expect this.
“oh y/n this is father mayhew.” you looked at him waiting a beat before you smiled brighter than before, he was intrigued to say the least. you were confusing him, sending signals he couldn’t quite decipher. maybe he wasn’t your type because you seemed wholly unaffected by him. that or you were just good at hiding it.
“nice to meet you mr.mayhew.” there was no way you were calling him father, you weren’t religious much less catholic.
“father-“ megan started to correct you and you cocked your head to the side, ready to remind her you didn’t believe in organized religion.
“charlie is fine, please y/n, it’s nice to meet you.” he cut in before you two began your conversation, seeing the way your eyes narrowed at the correction. your eyes were back on him as soon as he said your name, masterfully hiding how your stomach flipped at it coming from his lips. it didn’t matter to him that you weren’t religious, hell it might be for the best if you weren’t. he would rather never see you or your red heels ever again.
“charlie, i’ll leave you two to it.” you attributed the startling attraction you felt to the taboo of it all. a priest, sinfully handsome, and from the look of his shoulders and arms his body was even more unholy. your glances had been brief but they were enough to spike your curiosity.
“please join us, i’d be interested to hear whatever you were about to share.” there was that egotistical expression on his face that made you think he didn’t usually get no from women.
“oh i don’t know it’s kind of a secret. can you keep a secret charlie?” you were pulling out all the stops, straightening your posture, batting your eyelids, even cocking your head to the side and if megan wasn’t so transfixed by his reaction she would’ve taken notes. he was completely drawn into you, reminding himself to blink and respond when you a smile twitched at the corner of your lips when you were met with silence. you knew you had him and he knew too.
“let’s pretend this is confession.” he drew his arms out, leaning back against the booth and you took the challenge, sitting next to megan before she could try to leave you two alone. the scent of your perfume hit him as you sat down, sensual and distinct. he’d remember it for days.
“sure confession, i’ve always liked the notion. there’s something so sexy about the whole thing don’t you think megan?” charlie watched you try to shift the subject away from whatever you came to say. he wasn’t so naive. however one thing became clear, you didn’t trust him.
“oh geez, i guess it is sexy. you’re dishing out your deepest darkest secrets in a small box where you can’t see the other person.” he could see the way your eyes softened around the edges when you looked at megan. and the way they changed when you looked back towards him. he hadn’t felt so wholly consumed by someone. whatever trap you had laid out, he was ensnared.
“i’ve always wondered who a priest confesses to?”
“God.” his eyebrow cocked at the question, eyes lighting up in amusement and you bashfully nodded your head.
“ah right.” megan laughed at your response, finding the exchange a bit trivial. she was itching to hear the new information.
“i’m gonna head back to the church, can’t exactly leave it unattended this long. sister it was great to speak with you and again nice to meet you y/n.” you waved him a goodbye as he got up and walked past you both, your eyes never leaving him until you couldn’t crane your neck much further. megan shook off the worries that were beginning to surface and instead pestered you to spill your guts. you did as soon as the diner’s bell rang to signal the door closing. you told her what you had rehearsed all the while being haunted by the ghost of father mayhew’s appearance.
the murders continued and you spent late nights with lois spinning every possible theory. you couldn’t scratch the itch that bothered you about megan and charlie. instead of asking megan to meet you, you decided to visit the father himself. although you would play it off as a last minute plan you carefully dressed for the occasion, a baby pink cropped cardigan covered your lacy tank top fit with high waisted flare jeans that hugged your curves just right. it looked casual and your skin was indeed covered enough for church but if you stretched or raised your arms even slightly your skin would show and you knew his eyes would find their way there just like before. you wore baby pink platform heels to match even, your hair up in a seemingly effortless updo that actually took you thirty minutes to perfect. and to top it all off you made sure to smell downright sinful and gloss your lips to the heavens.
he didn’t stand a chance.
you were grateful to find the church empty save the priest in question sitting in the pews reading what you assumed was the bible. the click of your heels drew his gaze over his shoulder, he would lose this battle without a doubt in his mind. he only hoped god would forgive him after. he rose to stand, abandoning the bible with ease and a smile crept to your lips as he met you in the walkway between the pews.
“y/n, what a surprise i thought you weren’t religious.” he didn’t think he’d see you again, not like this at least. maybe only in his dreams or when the desire deep inside him took over.
“oh i’m not, just curious.” you cocked your head to the side and charlie had a sneaking suspicion you got whatever you wanted when you did that. he wasn’t a stranger to using his looks to get things handed to him, he just didn’t expect to be so easily swayed by it himself.
“anything i can help you with?” as much as he would have liked to continue this staring contest he had an idea you were here on a mission. you had unsuccessfully hidden how taken you were with him. now standing at his full height you were finding it hard to disguise your attraction. he was tall, much taller than you had figured and even in your heels you came up to his shoulder. his body was crafted for sports, for modeling, for anything but the cloth. the sheer strength he wielded was going to waste, you wondered why he needed it all.
“you and sister megan are so wholly devoted to all this. i’ve never had that, something so…guiding.” he invited you to sit next to where he was situated before, you did with ease crossing your legs and sitting closer than you should be.
“your morals surely come from somewhere.”
“my parents, they weren’t religious, at least not catholic. all these murders, it just made me wonder.” you spoke in hushed whispers, the church was eerily quiet, so starkly different from the chaos of lois’s home.
“you’re scared, it’s reasonable to be. faith can give you strength but it can’t fix everything.” his head turned down towards you, onyx eyes sucking you in, you were captivated.
“hey i thought i was the atheist here.” you bumped your shoulder against his or really your shoulder against the muscle of his arms. he sucked in a breath, finding himself thinking less of religion the more he looked into your eyes. charlie drew the bible in front of him, turning the page to where he knew he’d find distraction.
“Isaiah 41:13 God promises to comfort and help those who are worried, and to take their hand and guide them through difficult times.” he turned the page to continue, not licking his finger in time and cutting his finger on the paper. it had never happened before and he didn’t even notice it until you listened on, eyes naturally drawn to his large veiny hands and then the pearl of blood that threatened to drop on the spotless floor.
“oh charlie,” you took his right hand in both of yours, thoroughly stopping his reading. you did the first thing you could think of, not wanting the blood to spill anywhere, bringing it to your lips and licking it off, meeting his gaze bashfully. the familiar taste of salty iron lined your teeth. the wet warm lap of your tongue against the pad of his finger combined with the sheen of your lips and your eye contact made charlie suddenly very aware of his corporeal form, all the rest of his blood rushing south. you did it so casually, as if consuming his blood was as natural as wine. the quiet vulnerability making him twitch in his pants. he thanked god it wasn’t well lit in the church or the bulge in his black slacks would be apparent. fortunately for him you were also too embarrassed to notice.
“s-sorry i just didn’t want it to spill.” you dropped his hand quickly, ignoring the warmth between your legs and opting to look very intently at the first button of his dress shirt. he needed to diffuse the situation before he coaxed you upstairs and smudged your damned lip gloss.
“it’s alright, i’m gonna grab a bandaid.”
“okay i’ll be hiding in the confession box trying not to burst into flames.” he laughed at your admission, he hadn’t expected you to be so embarrassed. it was probably the hottest thing he’d experienced and he thought you would own it, own that you were unabashedly seducing him. perhaps he’d misjudged your intentions all along. he came back to empty pews and he scoffed at the realization you were actually in the booth.
“what do you wish to confess?” he assumed the position, taking it as seriously as he could muster. part of him was wishing you would just tell him something substantial about yourself, he didn’t even know what you did for a living.
“how much time do you have?” charlie huffed a laugh at your words and you liked his laugh, it was airier and lighter than you expected. “i suppose ill start with the most recent sin, i embarrassed myself in front of a priest. surely that’s against some rule.”
“not entirely, embarrassment isn’t a sin.” he crossed his arms across his chest, endeared by your admission.
“right, what about lust?” he closed his eyes, he’d nearly gone half-soft but here you were painting deadly images in his mind. he felt like a teenage boy, rock hard and trying to will it down.
“lust, one of the seven deadly sins, but it can be forgiven. that is if you don’t act on it.”
“ah i’ve never been good at that part.”
“i can pray for you, kneel with me.” you did as he said, finding it hard to deny him of anything when his voice was so deep and commanding through the grated screen. you waited a beat and then another, breathing out in and out. you wondered if he was trying to remember a prayer or you were too far gone for one that readily came to mind. instead you heard him grumble under his breath, the church far too quiet for it to go unnoticed.
“fuck it.” you blinked your eyes in surprise, the wood digging into your knees as you waited another beat and the curtain to your side was drawn open and charlie stood in front of you. the sight of you kneeling nearly made him pass out, he swore he’d never been so hard in his life.
“tell me no.” his large hand, now with a bandage on one finger, slid to the side of your face, tilting your face up and up until your neck craned to meet his as he stepped closer. the heat of his body radiated against you. his thumb pushed at the plush of your bottom lip, the lip gloss was as sticky as he imagined, drawing your mouth open. your eyelashes fluttered at the gentle pressure, the coaxing, the slow sensuality of it all. you felt as if you would actually burst into flames, you wished you had worn a skirt. the denim of your jeans felt like hot coals against your skin, your underwear sticky with need. he could see the desire dripping from your gaze, but he needed to be sure.
“i can’t.” you whispered, like the obedient girl you were. and that was enough for him, he shoved the thumb fully between your lips, you hummed at the intrusion. the warm wet heat of your mouth made him whimper as you swirled around the finger sucking it like you wanted so desperately to do something else. your gaze finally moved from his eyes down the length of his body to his slacks, you raised up on your knees and you were eye level with his bulge. even in the dim light you could tell he was massive and your jaw would be sore tomorrow.
“father let me help you, please?” he huffed a breath at the name, there was no going back now though, he knew what he was doing making you kneel. he nodded at your request, removing his hand from your face so you could do as you pleased. the urgency in your motions made him scoff as you practically tore his zipper down and cupped his bulge. you fidgeted to get his length through and when you did you grinned at the sight. the shadow of his length covered your face and while you were intimidated and failing to hide it you still licked tentatively at the furious red tip.
“good girl.” he smiled down at you and you squeezed your thighs at his words, cleaning up all the precum along his slit. he was so big you didn’t think you’d get him even halfway down your throat, but you were never a quitter. your hand circled his base, one cupping his heavy balls as you licked along his shaft, veins protruding angrily and you kissed the tip one more time before flattening your tongue against the bottom of him, stretching your mouth as wide as you could to accommodate his girth. it was a struggle to attempt and you groaned at how hard it was. he chuckled at your frustration, he couldn’t deny how hot the whole scene was. he placed a hand on your head, guiding you down his length and you moaned at the feeling, shivering from how badly you needed him. you wished for some sense of relief and so you took one hand off his balls and tried to touch yourself. it was no use because charlie saw you, catching your wrist. he was gentle until then, forcing you down his length and you gagged. he was so heavy and thick you felt like you couldn’t breathe. the sensation made you nearly lightheaded and he finally released his grip letting you relax and slink back. you got into a comfortable rhythm then, pumping the length you couldn’t reach and swirling your tongue along his veins while moving up and down his length. he could tell he was close from the small groans and whimpers you could hear, his grip on your wrist tightening until he let go completely and pulled you off him. he tapped his cock against your tongue, debating if he should finish this now or give in fully to what he needed.
“tell me about your sin.” your eyes glazed over as he held his cock away from your mouth, letting you speak but making you mourn the heavy feeling. it took you a few seconds to remember what he was talking about.
“i’ve touched myself thinking about this man, but he’s devoted to someone else, to god. it never feels as good as i know he can make me feel.” your gaze traveling from his cock to his eyes, he jaw clenched as he looked away before leaning down and lifting you effortlessly out of the booth and into his hold. your legs looped around his waist and your arms around his neck. he was strong and solid against you, and you whined at the slightest hint of friction of your core bumping his belt buckle.
“we can attone later.” it’s all he says as he’s walking purposefully up the stairs and down a hallway, the walk is long or at least it feels that way when you’re nearly drunk from desire.
your back hits something soft, you realize it’s his bed as he’s climbing over you. you sit up, unbuttoning his shirt while he’s doing the same to your pesky jeans. his shirt is unbuttoned before he’s pulling them off you and you marvel at the sculpted muscles of his body. you're not sure if you’re drooling but you could be. he doesn’t bother to take your heels off, opting for your cardigan and crop top next. and you whine as you try to reach the buttons of his slacks, he tucked himself back in at some point and you don’t like the insinuation. charlie can’t help but laugh at you, maybe you weren’t the femme fatale he thought you were. “patience is a virtue.” he’s got you in your bra and panties splayed out under him and he relished in the sight of your lip gloss smudged. in the light of his room he could see all the sinful details of your body and he couldn’t wait to wreck every part he hadn’t touched yet. he kneels in front of you, shirt gone and his slacks unbuttoned, watching your chest rise and fall in anticipation as you maintain eye contact. he can tell you’re struggling to, the way your eyelids droop and narrow. when he’s finally bare in front of you, you’re looping your arms around his neck and pulling him down, finally kissing him and it’s as messy as you hoped for. all teeth and tongue, he bites your lip hard enough to draw blood and you groan into his mouth. he’s feral and you can’t help but arch into him, the hard planes of his body pressing so deliciously against you, you silently wish you could grind against his abs for some kind of friction. charlie pins your wrists above you with one of his hands, the other deftly unclasping your bra, an action that speaks volumes of his experience.
he doesn’t loosen his grip on your wrists even slightly, somehow in control despite the rabid look in his eyes, trailing his lips down your neck, biting and sucking likely leaving marks for tomorrow. you buck your hips into him, desperate for something, anything. he’s so hard against your core, sliding against your stomach. you can’t imagine he’ll fit, not with how far up your chest his length reaches. your thoughts are drawn back to the hot mouth that’s latching to your nipple, bitting and sucking like it’s the last thing he’ll do. charlie groans around your breast, massaging the other one with his hand rough palms creating a friction you try to get closer to. he’s slurping and biting so roughly you’re whining without realizing, tears pricking your eyes from the sharp pain. it’s so devastating you think it might be the way you want to go out.
and when you feel you might just come from his mouth on your breasts, he’s moving off you with a pop to his lips. it’s reminiscent of your actions downstairs and his cock twitches at the image. he leans back to take a look at his work releasing your wrists, bite marks and bruises littering your shaking chest and his lips curl in a smile. you think you’ve never seen him genuinely happy until now. he stays out of your reach kneeling between your spread legs and you almost complain until he’s peeling your underwear off you, it’s sticky and you revel in the cool air finally grazing your heat. charlie’s eyes are inexplicably drawn to how you’re nearly dripping onto his sheets, the light illuminating how badly you needed him, and from the looks of it it was just as long as he did. you can’t help the moan slip from your mouth when he’s biting his lips and spreading your folds to watch a fat wad of arousal drop down to your ass.
your pleasure ends when you see him leaning down for a taste, far too gone for any more foreplay. you need him and you need him now. you’re twitching when you slide your fingers into his hair, drawing your gaze to him. the hunger in his gaze doesn’t dissolve but the black of his eyes seems to soften when he sees your wrecked expression.
“please i need your cock, now please.” you’re begging and charlie can’t say no to that. he’s been aching for what feels like forever. he coos at your request, wiping the tears you didn’t even notice were falling and moves back on top of you, the satisfying weight against you calming whatever worries you had. but he doesn’t give you what you want. his fingers, still spreading your folds dip into you, there’s zero resistance from your sopping entrance, but the stretch makes your eyes roll back. “please.” you don’t want his fingers, you don’t care if he splits you in half at this point.
“relax baby,” he’s soothing you as best as he can when he just wants to sink into you. instead of focusing on where he can make you unravel, he scissors you open, getting impatient himself. you hum at the shift, bringing his lips to yours with a hand still threading through his hair. when he adds a third finger you groan at the stretch. “so tight darling, you won’t be able to take me.” he’s purring at you, teasing you. you can’t string the words together to dissuade him. when he’s satisfied you’re stretched enough he pulls back, licking his fingers and groaning at the taste. devine, just like he expected.
despite your wishes he’s leaning back, tapping his angry cock head against your clit, and you realize his words may be true. your legs slide over his shoulders like they were made to be there and when you look down at your entrance, panic creeps in.
“i don’t think it will fit.” he watches your eyes widen, your brows furrowed in genuine concern. it’s comical.
“where did my good girl go? you were just begging for it.” he’s teasing you, laughing at the way your wide eyes meet his. without you responding, he slips his head towards your entrance, catching on it and slipping away, fuck you were so tight. you whimpered at the feeling, trying to slink away from him but he tightens his hold on your hips. you realize, albeit far too late, your heels are still on and very much on his shoulders.
“it won’t fit.” you’re pleading with him, for what exactly you’re not sure. and then he’s leaning down, pressing the tops of your thighs back towards you, folding you in half, his lips not quite reaching yours.
“i’ll make it fit.” without warning he’s nudging at your entrance again, bullying his way in and you whine and jostle at the feeling. it’s too big, the stretch too much and you feel tears prick your eyes. he’s tearing you open, ruining your for anyone else and you can’t find it in you to care.
when the tip is finally in you breathe out in relief, there’s still an ache between your legs and you know you’re dripping onto his sheets but you think the worst is over. you don’t know you’re far from it. because while charlie is a man of faith, of perseverance and virtue he can’t hold back from how addictive your pussy is. the tight hug of your cunt around his tip drives him to ease his full length into you without warning. you paw at his chest, eyes rolling back as he pushes his way fully in nestling against your cervix and curving inside you. making you gush out more liquid than you knew you had. in fact, it’s so much you’re not sure if you’re squirting or you just came. the pain and pleasure mix into one and you think scream his name. you swear you can feel him in your ribcage and you choke out a breath.
he’s barely holding himself still when his balls finally rest against you. your walls are molding to him, and he think he might have died and gone to heaven. “so fucking tight, you were made for me.” a deep groan leaves him before he can hold back and you whine at the sound, clenching down on him and making him only more painfully turned on. you can feeling him throbbing inside, carving you out, the veins of his cock pressed against.
when you begin to squirm under him, still not used to his size but not in pain, he starts moving. every time he moves out he feels he has to push back in, your poor abused cunt is gripping him so tight, he feels bad even pulling out. the burn becomes so intense and every time his tip bumps your cervix you twitch beneath him. he presses a sweet kiss to your ankle over the strap of your heels before pressing his hips down and reaching even deeper. you cry out his name at the change in position and then he’s drilling into you like he wants you to be ruined forever. you don’t know where your orgasms start or end as he continuously fucks against your most sensitive spot, your mind numb from pleasure and the only word leaving your lips is his name and cries of pleasure.
he’s no better, he swears he might be addicted to you. the way you call out his name, the way you clench around him when he groans and how you seem to still get wetter from his thrusts. he hopes you don’t blame him when he feels himself getting close already, from the look on your face he realizes you might not be able to think at all. his pace is cruel, driving you into the mattress and likely denting the wooden floor.
your mind is fractured into a million tiny pieces; the only thing you know is that you need him. and when he’s close he’s pressing into you like he wants to get you pregnant, he’s breeding you, making you his and you come again. there’s no room for his cum inside you, so it’s leaking out the sides and he can’t have that, not after how good you’ve been, how well you take him, so he’s scooping it back up and fingering it inside you all the while pumping you full. you don’t know when you started crying but you can taste the saltiness of your tears when you pull him down for a kiss, savoring in the drag of his tongue along your teeth and you suck on it slightly, still hungry. he wishes the moment could last forever, but begrudgingly he pulls out and swallows down your whimper. how could he ever begin to atone for this? he had a feeling he would be begging for forgiveness for the rest of his life, there was no way he could forget you.
#father charlie mayhew#father charlie x reader#father charlie smut#father charlie mayhew x reader#charlie mayhew x reader#nicholas alexander chavez#nicholas alexander chavez smut#glossgojo#nicholas alexander chavez x reader
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Now that this whole Dan Schneider abusive thing is back, I present you the trinity of Nickelodeon exhibitionists
Amanda Bynes she spoke in her Tweeter account back in 2009, people didn't listen and thought she was crazy. The most eventful tweets were: Mr suck my d¡ck to get in Nickelodeon Schneider, the one that she said that her boss took many photos of her feet and last but obviously the least important was the one were she said that she got pregnant and got an abortion at age 13. Dan was the one who got her pregnant
Alexa Nikolas after she left Nickelodeon and with this Zoey 101 because of all the whole bullying situation, she got calls from Dan's lawyer telling her to keep quiet (she didn't as the queen she is)
Jennette McCurdy this is the most recent one but also just like Amanda she gave us signs of her vines and now with her book 'I'm glad my mom died' she spoke even more about it and Josh Peck called her Liar
And remember guys. Dan Did It
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I've been thinking a lot about Jason Todd who hates when reader gets interested in bikes (obviously cuz is dangerous) and ask about his bike, and ask him to teach reader how to drive it. Then after a time of convincing he teach how to and eventually, even with him saying he hates it, reader get into a accident. My man would be PISSED, of course he would first worry and cry a bit, then, after that is just lecture and talk talk talk about it
The motorbike
Sigh. I know this format is cheating, but I’m in the mood for this style right now, so, it helps me get fics out quicker 😅.
I hope you like it though! It’s such a cute request and actually so innocent, but I just couldn’t resist adding in the naughty scenes in the middle 🤭!
Warnings: explicit descriptions of sex (male x female).
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Biker!Jason Todd who pulls up outside your workplace on his motorbike.
It wasn’t as sleek and fancy as the one he used as Red Hood, but it was still pretty cool! You raise your hand to wave at him in greeting, but are interrupted by one of your colleagues beside you.
“Wow,” she breathes, gazing admiringly at Jason sitting on his bike. “That guy is so hot!”
“I know, right?” you agree, sighing forlornly as his white streak falls into his eyes. He brushes it away in irritation, then grins when he sees you standing there. You return his wave and your colleague turns to you with a confused look on her face. “I love him. Bye, Drea, see you tomorrow!”
You skip over to Jason to wrap your arms around him and press a kiss to the side of his head.
“Hey, princess,” he chuckles, handing you your helmet. “How was work?”
“It was fine,” you tell him, sliding onto the seat behind him and curling your arms around his waist. “How was your day?”
“I’ll tell you about it later,” he tells you, starting up his bike again. “You ready?”
“Yup!” you chirp, clinging tightly to your boyfriend as he zooms back to your place. You smile as the wind sweeps across you, delighting in the exhilarating freedom that explodes through your chest every time you’re on his motorcycle. But all too soon, it’s over and you’re back in your carpark taking off your helmet while lamenting your lack of a bike licence.
Biker!Jason Todd who can’t deny the excitement he feels when you slide yourself onto his motorbike in front of him.
He’d just come back from a mission and was pleasantly surprised to find you waiting in the private garage he’d normally park his bike in. You stroll over to him as he switches the ignition off and he finds himself hypnotised by the slow swishing of your hips. He lowers his arm so you can climb onto the seat, then he grabs the handlebars again and waits for your next move.
You slide your hands up your boyfriend’s chest, then run them across his broad shoulders before taking his helmet off. You swallow hard at the smirk he wears as he looks at you, his green eyes glinting with mischief, then you set his helmet on the ground.
Your body grows warm as you curl yourself back around your boyfriend, this time lifting your legs to wrap them around his waist. He shifts in position slightly, adjusting himself so that your core is pressing up against his, but he still refuses to touch you, keeping his hands glued to his handlebars as he watches you with that naughty smirk. You brush your thumb across his jaw, bringing your mouth closer to his, and his lips part instinctively in anticipation of your touch. You smile as his eyelids flutter shut, delighting in the hold you have over your large and strong boyfriend, then you close the distance between you.
Biker!Jason Todd who tightens his grip on the handlebars as you grind yourself against him.
You were so f*cking hot, the way you kept whining and moaning for his d*ck as you rubbed yourself against it desperately. He wanted to touch you so bad, but it turned him on so much more to watch you using his body to pleasure yourself. Jason smiles against your lips as you kiss him hungrily, then he groans when you swing your legs back down and pull yourself up onto his lap. You pant heavily as your eyes travel across his face, dark with lust, and he loses his mind at how pretty you look, your dark hair framing your flushed face as you try to catch your breath.
You grab the collar of Jason’s jacket, admiring how hot he looks in his Red Hood costume, then you lower your lips back to his, stroking his tongue with your own. You reach down and slide your hand in between your bodies, fumbling with his zip so you can undo his trousers. Then you slip your hand into his underwear and take hold of him, running your fingers along his shaft and circling his tip with your thumb.
“Mmm, f*ck,” Jason breathes, his tip already swollen and leaking for you. He pushes his hips forward, seeking out your delicious warmth, but you giggle softly and shuffle backwards.
“Y/N,” Jason growls, moving his hands to your hips to hold you in position against him. You let out another laugh and Jason feels all the blood rush to his core as you expose the delicate length of your neck to him.
“I just want to turn around, Jay,” you reassure him, your tone teasing. Jason reluctantly lets his hands fall to his sides, giving you the space to stand up and remove your shorts before you get back on his bike again. You stretch yourself out, brushing your ass against his cock, and Jason digs his fingers into your soft flesh as a muttered curse falls from his lips.
Biker!Jason Todd whose brain goes numb with arousal as you slide up and down on his cock.
Holy shit! F*ck! How had he never had the idea to f*ck you on his motorcycle?! You looked so f*cking adorable, squealing and crying as he thrust himself into you from behind.
“J-Jay … Jay … Turn it on … sweetheart,” you plead with him.
“Huh?” He doesn’t understand what you’re saying at first, his brain too dizzy with lust to comprehend anything, but then you close your hand around his and twist the handlebar in explanation. Jason swallows hard when he realises what you’re asking for, then he switches his bike back on.
“Oh my gooooooood,” you moan, completely overwhelmed by the feeling of the engine vibrating against your clit while your boyfriend fills your p*ssy up with his thick, fat cock. You feel the tears gather at the edges of your eyes as he begins pumping you full with his d*ck again, the pleasure building up inside you until it feels like you’re about to explode. Then finally, you come, shuddering violently around Jason’s cock so that he quickly reaches his edge too.
“Missed me that bad, huh, princess?” Jason chuckles, leaning over to nibble on your ear. You whimper at the gravelly tone of his voice, then nod in agreement, adding another reason to love motorbikes to the list in your head.
Biker!Jason Todd who frowns when you finally ask him if he can teach you how to ride his bike.
“No,” he replies, his tone leaving no room for argument. He turns his attention back to the TV, but you know he has a soft spot for you and with enough begging, he’ll always give in.
“Please, Jay?” you plead, making your eyes as round as possible as you twist your head to look up at him. He studiously avoids your gaze, knowing that a single glance at you would smash a crippling hole into his resolve.
“Jay Jay?” you whine, your voice getting all soft and breathy in just the way it does whenever you’re whispering the sweetest - and most filthy - things in his ear. You slide your hand down his leg, your fingers brushing along the inside of his muscular thigh, and he twitches slightly at the pleasant feeling. “Please, baby?”
You scratch his knee gently and Jason shifts in his seat, trying to put a little distance between the two of you. But you’ve got him trapped against the edge of the sofa, no room for escape. You swing your leg over his, brushing your knee against his groin and Jason feels his body start to warm up as you glide your hand up his torso. You curl your fingers around his shoulder, then bend over to press your lips to the crook of his neck.
Biker!Jason Todd who finds himself losing control over his thoughts as you lick your way up his neck.
“Mmm …” You let out a soft moan every time you press an open-mouthed kiss to his skin and he feels himself getting painfully hard at the way your knee continues to brush against his core. You slip your hands beneath the hem of his shirt and Jason sucks in a breath as his entire body tightens at the feeling of your fingers climbing up his bare skin.
“Y-Y/N,” he stammers, stubbornly holding onto his resolve. You let out another moan as your back arches, allowing your desperate p*ssy to rub up against his thick thigh, and Jason goes dizzy at the sound of your pleasure.
“Come on, baby,” you mumble into his ear. “You always take such good care of me, Jay. Aren’t you going to take care of me now? Aren’t you going to teach your princess how to ride your huge … bike?”
Jason gasps at the sensual way you say the word - like it wasn’t his bike you were asking him to teach you to ride. But you were right: his bike was huge and he wasn’t going to let you hurt yourself trying to ride it.
“It’s too dangerous, baby,” he argues, his voice soft, like he was on the precipice of giving in to you. You pounce on the moment of weakness, seizing your only chance.
“But that’s what I’ve got you for, Jay,” you murmur back, your hand drifting across his body as you start grinding your p*ssy against his thigh. “To keep me safe? I know you’ll keep me safe, baby. I’ll listen to everything you say. I promise! I just …”
You sit back and curl your fingers around the waistband of his pants, pressing your lips together to hide your victorious smirk: you were so close to convincing him to surrender to you! And now it was time for the final strike. “I don’t trust anyone else to teach me, Jay. I know no one else could ever take care of me like you do.”
You fix him with a pout, your eyes wide as you look up at him from beneath your curly lashes. And that’s the final straw for him.
“You’re right,” he decides, his fingers working quickly to unbutton your shorts. “No one else … could ever take care of you … in the way that I do, baby. You want me to teach you how to ride my bike? You want me to teach you how to ride? I’ll teach you how to ride, princess. But you have to listen to everything I say, got it?”
You nod eagerly, moving to let him slide your shorts off and give him his reward for listening to you: you had the man wrapped around your finger.
Biker!Jason Todd who regrets his decision immediately when you remind him of it the next morning.
He’d have to make some sort of rule against you asking him for things when the two of you were having sex: it just wasn't fair for you to expect him to think rationally when your delicious little body was grinding up against him!
You try to tamp down your excitement as Jason guides you through how to operate his bike, his hands covering yours as he sits right behind you. He'd talked you through all the mechanics and safety procedures before finally letting you get onto it, but you'd sat through it all quietly, knowing that he just wanted to make sure you were safe. A bark of laughter escapes your throat as you start moving and you giggle giddily as you navigate the bike around the carpark. You were moving extremely slowly, Jason's hands never releasing their protective hold on yours, but you were finally doing it! You were finally riding a motorcycle!
You continue around in circles for about a half hour before Jason - to your disappointment - decides that that's enough for today. You swallow down your sigh, grateful for him to have let you do this much already, and secretly decide to sign up for driving classes when he's busy with another mission.
Biker!Jason Todd whose heart stops when he gets the phone call from the hospital.
You'd gotten into a small accident, the nurse had informed him over the phone, and that was all he'd heard before rushing over to the hospital to see you.
“Y/N?!” he exclaims, bursting into your room after quickly outrunning the nurses trying to calm him down. “Princess, are you all right?!”
He rushes to your bedside, but stops himself from grabbing your hand, terrified that he might damage you more than you'd already been. What the f*ck?! How the hell could he have let this happen?! He'd known that it was a bad idea - from the very beginning, he'd told you that he didn't want you riding a motorbike on your own. It was too dangerous and the people of Gotham didn't give a shit about anyone else on the road, but you just had to insist on putting your life in danger just because of a stupid-
“Jason,” you cut him off, placing a reassuring hand on top of his. “I'm fine. I was wearing my helmet and all the safety gear you told me to, so I only sprained my ankle a little.”
You smile up at him, an angry bruise on your cheekbone, and his eyes well up at the sight. He reaches up to cup your face in his hand, then he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.
“Where's the doctor?” he asks suddenly, searching the room for one. “I want to know-”
“Jay.” You grab his wrist as he moves to stand, stopping him in his tracks. He turns to you in question and you pat the edge of your bed, gesturing for him to sit down. He obliges, but continues to fix you with an irritated frown. “The doctor said I'm fine. She checked everywhere for injuries and said I probably don't need an x-ray because-”
“Probably?!” he repeats, his tone incredulous. “You probably don't need an x-ray?! I guess they didn't do a scan either to check for a concussion because you ‘probably’ didn't hurt yourself after being in a serious accident!”
“Minor!” you interject quickly, slightly amused by the way your boyfriend stalks around the room in a concerned rage. “I swerved to avoid a car while I was still in the circuit and accidentally slipped on my bike. I was going really slow, so I basically just fell over onto my side.”
You fix him with your sweetest smile - the one that always calmed him down when he was upset - and just like that, he feels the rage start to leave his body.
“Okay,” he sighs, taking your hands in his. “But you are never getting on another bike again, got it? I'm not letting you anywhere near anything with two wheels, unless I'm there too. We'll take my car from now on, and I'm not letting you get into a car with a stranger either, so you can delete all those rideshare apps on your phone …”
You snicker softly as your overprotective boyfriend continues on his rant, but maybe it was time for you to give in to him for once.
“I promise I won't touch another bike again,” you interrupt Jason, your tone serious. Then you break into a smile and give him a cheeky little wink. “Unless it's to have sex with you on it.”
Jason rolls his eyes, but you don't miss the way his lips twitch at the corners as he pulls you into his chest. “Deal.”
I hope I did all right 😅!
#jason todd x reader#jason todd x oc#jason todd smut#jason todd fanfiction#jason todd fic#jason todd x fem!reader#jason todd x y/n#jason todd x you#red hood x reader#red hood fic#red hood smut#red hood fanfiction#red hood x you#red hood x y/n#jason todd imagine
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KINKTOBER 2024, I DIDN'T CHANGE MY NUMBER.
don't take it out on me, i'm out of sympathy for you. maybe you should leave, before i get too mean and take it out on you ( and your best friend too! )
suguru geto & satoru gojo. it was so, so difficult to put up with satoru sometimes- especially when every 9 of the 10 words that left his mouth was lies and excuses. in a particularly rough patch where there seems to be a whose-d*ck-is-bigger contest between the two stubborn idiots, she runs into geto in the bar they frequent and decides he deserves an earful for enabling gojo to be atrocious- but a torture can come in various forms, can't it?
word count: 6902.
genre: one-shot, kinktober product.
characters: suguru geto & satoru gojo & reader.
notes: hi so this is an insane idea that i could not help but write. satoru being a bad boyfriend. suguru being an even worse friend. pr*ise. degr*dation. kind of ch*king. car s*x. pet names. mean dom!gojo. submissive leaning p*ssydrunk switch!geto. switch!reader. dont even perceive me with this one i have no clue how we got here even.
“ you are such an… such an asshole.”
“ and your learning curve is horizontal, sweetness- i don’t recall you leavin’ me.”
the liar, the bitch and the master manipulator, she hated every single bone in satoru’s body.
well, except the one he was burying her to the sheets with.
the same old unfinished story of broken promises, it is a rinse and repeat now with the vibrant colors of their relationship is diluting in the waters of exhaustion and exasperation. oh it was limitless alright, the number of times he could have let her free fall from the tallest skyscraper of tokyo and be forgiven with how he catches her right before the fall, a honeyed coo or two in her ear. no language on the face of earth is adequate when it comes to explaining the way satoru exists on the axis of the world he’s tilted, but the words detached & displaced are the first ones that come to mind. she is simply one of the many things bound to be lost in the infinity between him and the space he occupies, a hard-swallowed pill that she couldn’t still digest even when he had his veined hands splayed on the curve of her hips, his steel of a bicep pressing against her throat as the bed rhythmically creaked beneath them.
it felt too good, and he knew it- he knew he had her when she left that airy sigh into the pillow she had been drooling in with the spot he found without effort, he knew he had her when she preened underneath him with her shoulderblades against his ribs. it’s lazy, lazier than satoru usually indulges in, his hips maintaining an angle that let him bully the spongy g-spot tucked between the snug walls with such fervor that he has her reeling with each languid thrust. his damp locks are tickling the nape of her neck, the beads of sweat collecting at the conjunction of their limbs, wetting the already messed sheets. she can hear each grunt, each breath of his, feel it vibrate in her chest. the same old tale, he does something rancid enough to piss her off and then instead of an apology he fucks her until she forgot what she was mad about in the first place, but like any trick, it has a point where the audience tires of the repetitive schemes.
“my baby’s pissed at me, huh? would ya’ look at that. ” he coos, his mouth pressed against the junction of her jugular and her neck, his mouth wet. she has no choice but to listen, no choice but to take it- he doesn’t leave anywhere for her to escape, having her stuck beneath the mattress and his heavy figure, with her throat sitting tight and cozy in the crook of the arm he has wrapped around her neck like a shackle. her maroon nails are digging into his sinewy forearm until crescent moons shine with a painful pink color and it is not only a rightful response to the merciless pounding, but also a subconscious punishment, a silent outlet of her anger.
satoru doesn’t like that.
the position shifts, the man atop her whining rather dramatically before his weight lifts off of her. “ naughty girl, so ungrateful.” he chastises breathlessly, and just when she thinks she’s free of the torment she can’t stop cumming from, he yanks her up by the fat of her hips, propping her up on her knees but her attempts to rise on her hands is strictly prohibited, satoru lets out a “ tch tch,” as he catches both her wrists in one large palm to cross them on the small of her back, right in the middle of the twin dimples before his empty hand grasps the nape of her neck and push her face into the sage green, satin pillowcase she had been moaning into few moments ago, burying himself to the hilt in one go simultaneously. “ this is why we can’t have nice things,” he clicks his tongue, and she can almost see the way his eyes roll to the back of his skull, all educated deductions from the way he speaks through his gritted teeth. complain he might, but he cannot deny that he lives for the thrill of her, lives for the thrill of having her in his bed, the taste of cherry lipgloss stuck in the back of his throat and her laughter his favorite siren song. “ because you don’t appreciate ‘em, baby.”
“ don’t even start-” she groans, and his hips snap harsher the next time as a silent yet effective method of shutting her up, liking her pliant and obedient as always. “ sorry, what was that?” he leans over, asking with a faux undertone of surprise in his tone. “ can’t hear you over the sound of her, babe,” he pulls out temporarily, just to bring his palm down for a hard smack on her swollen cunt, only pleased when he hears her cry out and shudder to grasp the base of his painfully hard cock and nudge it right back inside her to resume. “ wanna’ repeat that f’ me?”
but she can’t, her vision already having painted white as she stiffens and seizes with a whimper choked on her throat, clenching around satoru impossibly as her climax pulls her right under the crashing wave, a steady ringing in her ear that deafens her briefly- she can call him every single name under the sun and he’d deserve each one of them, but she cannot deny that the bastard has a way of pushing her to the brink of feelings & sensations she didn’t know was possible. it’s what makes it all so alluring, it’s what makes her heart swell with the ease of familiar affection when he follows her almost immediately, his hips slapping against the back of her thighs faster as he falters, the feeling of wet ropes fill her to the brim a one that makes her toes curl, a nice warmth spreading through her system.
“ why are you adamantly trying to get me to leave you?” she asks, breathless, rolling to her back- her knees hurt, and she’s definitely pulled a muscle in her neck with how strained it feels. the heel of her palm presses against the junction of her neck and shoulder, rubbing in idle motions to alleviate it a bit. she watches him collapse next to her, just as breathless, his tongue darting out to lick his dry lips, snowy lashes fluttering with exhaustion, gaze heavy lidded. “ didn’t i tire you enough? ” he mutters but she doesn’t need to know him as well as she does to hear the whiny undertone. he blindly reaches through the sheets to find her warmth next to him, yank her to his chest without paying any mind to the way she yelps, and nuzzle his face against her spine. “ you talk too much, go to sleep.”
it had been a long shot, but at least she wouldn’t say that she didn’t try. “ get off of me,” she sighs, exasperated more than anything as she pushes satoru’s heavy arm to slide further away in the sheets. still drowsy & a bit lightheaded but still not relaxed or prideless enough to fall asleep next to him. “ ‘m gonna’ go take a shower.”
oh, that gets his attention. his head slightly lifting from the sheets, he watches her go, wearing nothing but his shirt. “ can i come?”
the only response he gets is the door that slams shut on his face.
****
she hadn’t expected suguru to be home. by the time she takes a stroll to the kitchen with her damp hair tucked in a soft towel, having switched back to her own clothes to deprive satoru of the pleasure of seeing her in his own clothes, adorned in a pair of rust nike shorts and a hot pink crop top. she finds suguru by the stove, cooking something that smells like thyme with his headphones on. she would have snuck her head in to get a good sniff of the pot, but since sneaking up on someone who is handling a hot pan while wearing headphones is never a good idea, she makes her way to the fridge as intended. he notices her by the shadow that falls on the counter, pulling the headphones down to his neck. “ hey there,” he greets, simple as he spares her a single glance. he doesn’t need to look at her twice to imagine what went down, sighing before turning to his meal.
“ i can feel you judging me,” she says as she pulls the bottle of milk out before closing it shut with a sway of her hips. suguru snorts. “ i am.”
ever the honest.
“ you don’t get to,” she comments simply as she occupies the same counter he’s cooking in. their shared apartment having memorized by now, she pushes on the side of his head slowly to avoid him hitting his forehead on the cabinet she pulls open ( thinking about it, maybe she should have let it hit him ) to get the coffee she had been desperately craving. she releases him a moment later, putting the coffee jar on the counter. like the calm before the storm. “ you’re the one who told me he was home when he was out with the bitches, if my memory isn’t failing me.” she states thoughtfully as she licks the spoon she delved into the coffee jar earlier. “ and you were the one who told me not to worry when i, in fact, should have been worrying.”
suguru sighs, clearly discontent to be in the conversation but too bad- he wasn’t discontent when he was lying straight to her face. her gaze is keener than a knife when she turns it on him, the smile that curls on the corners of her mouth is cold enough to look cruel. “ you’re a disappointing friend, suguru.” she comments, her tone sing-song-y enough to sound eerie. too serious and unserious at the same time, like his mistake was spilling her favorite coffee on the floor or forgetting to pick up groceries on his way home. “ and you’re not one bit innocent.”
“ don’t get me involved in your shit,” he exhales, keeping his gaze on the pan- chicken pesto & rice, hm. delicious. what a pity she felt too nauseous to take a bite. “ it’s not my responsibility to keep your deranged man in check, satoru is the way he is and you know it.” he places a large palm on top of her head but not ruffling her hair, instead bending over a bit unnecessarily to get down on eye level with her, his voice reeking of condescension. “ aren’t we a little too old to be blaming others for our bad life decisions, missy? ” she smiles at him, as sweet as a plum. “ fuck you, suguru.”
he grins. “ oh, i’d bet you wish. ”
***
it has been two months without satoru, two months with letting his calls go to voice mail or turning the flowers away from her doorstep. he’s using every trick in the book, from the gifts to the soft epilogues he is murmuring into the mic in the late hours of the night, hoarse and truthful but satoru’s truth as subjective as it can be- his emotions shift with the weather, and so does his intentions. his detachment applies to his ability to hold onto his promises, and the last couple of years he had not learned from his mistakes or her pleading, and she doesn’t necessarily deem herself the teacher he loves being. it’s not in her nature to be coddling a man that is not getting the message, at least not without making him regret every bit of a wrong he’s done her.
early 2010s are playing in the club that smells like pot & cigarettes & sweat, the fog of everything & anything that’s been smoked blurring in her gaze and dimming the moving purple & pink of the lights, coating the glitter on her cheeks prettiest of technicolors. four martinis in, she’s feeling the buzz in the marrow of her bones, not drunk enough to be stumbling on her feet but drunk enough to not try to see satoru’s white head in the packed crowd. the soles of her butterfly shoes are hitting the back of her ankles, and the polyester of her cheap dress is sticking to her damp skin in ways uncomfortable enough to assure her she definitely is getting a rash the next day. still, it is not nearly as bad as the urge to check her phone every twenty minutes to see if he’s texted. he probably has, and not that she’d text him back, but still it was a reassurance of its own to know that she occupied his thoughts. it was hard, for someone like satoru, to stay focused without drifting away. she’s even surprised he seems to have object permanence altogether.
just when her tired feet are dragging her to the bar for a refill of her empty martini glass, a similar figure draws her attention. the oversized black sweater that’s ridiculously loose on his shoulder, the fresh wolfcut, the black circle earrings and the cargo pants that also sit nonchalant on his waist and that goddamn manspread. he’s been staring at her.
if he was here…
“ the pot and its lid, how lovely.” her smile is forced when she leans over him, to the bar, yelling inaudibly over a loud remix of lady gaga for a refill, trying to contain her suddenly restless heart in her ribs, over the prospect of satoru popping out of somewhere to tap her on the shoulder with his disgustingly saccharine smile, sticking a tongue out through his perfect teeth. her knees feel weak and the alcohol is not the only culprit. suguru chuckles, taking another sip of his own drink, neat whiskey as usual. “ he’s not here.”
thank fucking god. she breathes, and he takes the sight in, nursing his whiskey, slowly twirling the glass with leisure movements of his wrist. “ you want me to call him?” he asks, mocking, teasing. she doesn’t give him the reaction he probably had been pulling and poking around for, instead waiting patiently with her elbows on the counter, a little bent, her midsection resting on suguru’s knee. she’s too occupied in her thoughts to notice it, but he’s not. though, it remains a silent acknowledgement. “ no,” she tells him, mouthing a thank you to the bartender before she turns to suguru eventually, her blue eyeliner having smudged around the corner of her eyes. he offers a grin. “ why, you here with someone? ” he shakes his head at the possibility of that being true, accompanied by a disapproving sound. “ don’t let him know, princess- he can dish it out but he can’t take it. such is the man, your boyfriend. ” the cynical undertone is laughable, so she does- it is swallowed by the slender glass in her hands. “ look at the one talking,” she gestures, amused. suguru shrugs, his head tipping back with the big sip to down the rest of his whiskey, adam’s apple bobbing and the chain that shines distracts her, gleaming under the now red hues. “ jus’ saying,” he shrugs. “ i know him. and you know him. don’t understand why you’re so obsessive over things you know that ain’t good for ya’.”
well, that had been a little too real than what she expected. she blinks, her expression shifting into one of confusion and of restlessness- a question she cannot answer truly, as she herself is yet to discover the big revelation. instead, her limbs retract, the ghost of a smile playing on the corner of her mouth. “ careful, suguru.” she muses, words laced with honey but not without the sting. “ you don’t know me like that. you don’t know me at all, actually. ” how would he, when all he has seen of her was her reflection created in satoru’s image? he hasn’t known her the way satoru or even shoko did. he knew her as the girl satoru couldn’t treat right a day in his life yet the girl he simply was too entranced to move on from.
his expression remains untouched, but a twitch at the corner of his mouth catches her eye. “ you’re here for him,” he says, without an attempt to correct her. “ you’re wearing that skimpy little dress for him. you’re drinking, laughing, dancing- for him. and he’s not even here.” it feels like a dare, the way his shoulders move, how he leans back. “ what a shame.” her ears are burning, the root of her hair red, and the flush on her cheeks is reeking of shame. she feels exposed, at the way suguru pecks at her open wounds without a care- but she asked for it, didn’t she? she stills, then leans, until both of her hands press against the cold edge of the marble counter, caging suguru in. she can smell the whiskey on his breath, can smell the cologne he wears, earthy and woody, lacking the sharp scents satoru uses. he leans back in his stool, carefully curated expression watching every single movement of hers to see what she’s after, decipher the secret message except there is no secret message- she’s angry, and she feels like a lesson has been due by yesterday.
“ and you’re here for me,” she says eventually, cracking into an eerie smile with the dawning of the revelation. “ oh, suguru, you sneaky bastard,” she can’t help the airy chuckle that escapes her, her eyes having widened with something she’s found in the poker face he had been wearing. he is good at this but so is she. “ you’ve almost had me, gotta’ give it to ya’.” she coos, mingled with mockery in the worst way possible as her head cranes aside, withdrawing to take a good look at him. “ who knew?”
he laughs, the tormenter that he is, and it’s pretty. has it always been this pretty, or is the newfound depth to dabble in make her see him in a light she hasn’t before? “ please,” he snorts, shaking his head, asking the bartender for a refill and tossing his empty glass on the counter. he makes no moves to get out of her symbolic cage, pretty content to be sitting where he is, a knowing look painting him more annoying than he already is- but how could he not be, with the pretty girl lodged between his knees? satoru’s girl, at that. or not. that part was always confusing, even for them. “ i’m flattered, but you’re… not my type.” he finds the words he had been looking for eventually, clicking his tongue with satisfaction. “ i don’t like ‘em as whiny and loudmouthed as you.” she can’t tell if he’s joking or not, can’t tell why the room went up a hundred degrees all of a sudden. “ do me a favor and pick up the next time he calls, yeah?” he murmurs, digging around for something she assumes to be a cigarette, no longer focused on her. “ he’s been nagging like a bitch all day, ‘m tired of it. we both know you’re not going anywhere.”
she didn’t think it was possible to despise someone as much as she did satoru, but suguru is full of surprises. even if he is not able to find that one particular vein satoru adores pressing with the soles of his pretty, expensive shoes, he finds a completely different one- condescension dripping off his mouth, that lazy stare boiling the blood in her veins. he deems her not worthy of him, whiny and loudmouthed.
she kisses him just for that.
it is short, it is confused- it is filled with the urge to prove something, unsure to herself or to him. he tastes like whiskey & mint and it burns the back of her throat, and for a brief moment, he parts his lips, to which she takes as an invitation to push her tongue in and lick at the roof of his mouth as her hands grasp the collar of his hoodie.
it is short because suguru breaks it, his hands on her elbows, eyes widened and the cherry hue of her lipgloss smudged on his lower lip with the saliva that it shines with. “ ‘m not the revenge you want,” he warns, perhaps the most serious thing he’s said to her that night- but she lacks the fucks to give. “ shut the fuck up,” she says in return instead, before pushing him incessantly to return to the bittersweet taste she had been craving before it even died on her tongue. this time, suguru doesn’t reel back or stop. this time, his tentative hands slide around the small of her exposed back, pulling her flush against him as his teeth sinks into her plush lip. it’s dizzying, how he kisses the breath out of her lungs, and how it sets a dozen fireworks in her ribs.
“ oh, fuck, i can’t- he’ll kill me,” the sentiment returns, and she doesn’t remember hearing him so desperate in her life- doesn’t remember hearing him so out of breath and pleading, a begging more to himself than her as he rests his forehead on her temple and draws in heavy breaths like it might make him want her less. it doesn’t. satoru doesn’t plead the way he does, doesn’t look at her with the same pathetic insurmountable need in his eyes. maybe it’s what makes her bold enough to push her thigh between his knees, watching the way his jaw falls slack, slender fingers tightening on her hips as if he can’t decide if he wants to stop her or not. “ you’ve been lying to me for him long enough,” she murmurs, hot and breathless into his mouth, watching every single way his face contorts with shame and pleasure like a hawk through heavy lidded eyes. “ time to lie for me, sugu.”
it’s how they end up in the back of her car- with her perched atop suguru’s large thighs, moaning into each other’s mouths, raven locks bunched in her incessant palm and his hands splayed out on her thighs. it’s sloppier than anything, and all she can think about is how utterly beautiful he is, with his heavy breathing he is pointless trying to regulate and the way he keeps clutching at her, ridden with guilt & lust at the same time. she doesn’t carry the same concern as he does, doesn’t care about satoru- not in the way she should, at least. it was time he stopped underestimating her. it was time he stopped believing her lack of retaliation on his bullshit was because she thought he could be a better person than he was, not because she was weak enough to stay. she only realizes her mistake now, how wrong it was of her to try to handle things the way adults did- but forfeiting grudges, by trying to forgive and communicate. he mistook her kindness. he thought her sweet, thought her all bark no bite.
but looks could be deceiving.
no clothes are coming undone, but suguru is half unraveled underneath her thighs. “ look at you,” she says in pure admiration, catching his chin between the knuckle of her index finger and her thumb, tilting his head to her liking- which is straight at her, having no choice but to see the diabolical grin that turns her into something he has never put his hands on before. something he wouldn’t know what to do with, if he had. “ whiny and loudmouthed, you said?” she quotes, and a single shift of her hips is enough to drown out any response he might have, to which he responds with a grunt of restraint and a kiss harsher than loving. “ shut up,” he kisses it on her teeth, and she has no objections to that. his presence is overwhelming. it’s unusual, the attachment that comes along- suguru is intense in a way she cannot define to be good or bad. so explore she does, tilting the corner of his jaw with a stubborn push from her nose, teeth grazing at his jugular. she can feel the way his breath hitches, feel the way he twitches. he attempts to take control of the situation by manhandling her on his lap, squeezing the fat of her hips in his palms with a grunt as he forces her into movement. the sticky material of her long drenched panties stick to her, the zipper of his pants getting caught at her clit and making her jolt with each drag. it gives him a momentary release from her evil clutches, but it is questionable how it can be considered relief when he has that drunk look on his face, jaw setting with a low grunt. “ such a fucking slut,” he whispers it against the column of her throat, freeing one hand to resume the movement by lazy & languid rolls of his hips, having her gasp on top of him, boneless on his lap. “ grinding on me because your boyfriend just can’t act right, huh? is this how you get back on him? ”
she nods, even if she doesn’t want to, too caught up in the way he pseudo-fucks her, unhurried and devoid of any rush- like they had hours to spend in the back of her car. his pants might be deceiving her, but even the outline of him pressing against her is enough to have her mouth watering for the real deal, satoru half forgotten in suguru’s warm lap. his fingertips trail beneath the hem of her blue skirt, and they dance around the edge of her panties without ever getting to business. she squirms, desperate for a taste of something she can’t go back from, but his hold is a one of steel- “ if you want something, you’re gonna have to say it,” he murmurs, his mouth brushing hers without properly kissing her, each thrust making her jolt on his knees. she melts halfway, face contorted in pressure. “ are you this much of a headache for satoru too, or is it special f’ me?”
that does it, her lower lip trembling as she rests against his chest, hips lazily grinding back into his to keep up with the delicious rhythm that has her seeing stars before anything. the fingers that now ghost over the damp spot of her underwear is her undoing. “ performance anxiety, sugu baby?” she lets a breathless, airy chuckle, accompanied by a sweet aw she manages to utter. “ don’t worry, i’ll guide yo-ohhhh shit,” he tucks her words back into her mouth without batting an eye, he’s good like that, of course he is. there is nothing to be questioned in his abilities to touch a girl, it seems- he doesn’t struggle as he slips underneath the wet fabric and plunges two fingers deep inside her, the sudden intrusion sending an electric jolt down her spine. for a moment, it becomes so, so hard to speak, toes curling in the pretty heels satoru has gotten them as an apology gift for one of his many fuckups. she doesn’t think suguru would like to know that.
“ sorry, you were sayin’ somethin’?” he hums, a pleased, toothy smile tugging his mouth upwards as he takes in the sight of her squirming on his lap to handle the pressure. he brings an end to those wiggly hips by pressing the forearm that has been on her thigh even harder to pin her nice & tight. “ uh uh, don’t run away from me, now, you wanted this, remember? ” he tuts, still keeping his slow grind her swollen bud as his fingers pump leisurely in & out. “ suguru,” she shudders, gripping the car seat behind him just to be able to have some sort of anchor but even that is failing her. suguru is an asshole of his own kind, so instead of easing up on her, he tugs on the lace ribbons of her dress with his teeth, like an animal, just so he can nuzzle his nose between the valley of her breasts. he’s not as chatty as satoru, it turns out. not as hurried either- it’s not the same rush, not the same avid sense of detachment. this is not turning out the way she expected it to, not the mindless fuck she had been going after just so she could see the look on satoru’s face when she told him she fucked his best friend.
“ mhm, i see what’s got him so hooked alright,” he reveals to himself, half mesmerized and half amused, an afterthought as he drags his tongue on the velvety edge of her dress, dipping it underneath. “ i’d be tweaking too, if i fumbled this.” the this he is talking about is not her sparkling personality, she assumes, but it has her chuckling breathlessly anyway. it’s one thing to be wanted by satoru who wants everything he can get his hands on all the time, but it is another to be wanted by suguru who seems to want nothing at all. well, except the girl he lied to the face of repeatedly. just for that she thinks of leaving him blue-balled, but all thoughts flee her mind once his teeth catches her hardened nipple and his fingers crook in that delicious way, pulsating around his fingers as the tight coil in her guts snap.
she doesn’t realize the buildup, nearly panicking with how sudden it all crashes into her- eyes widening impossibly as she clutches onto suguru desperately as the man holds her still. “ keep cumming, keep cumming, good fuckin’ girl,” he grunts with his nose pressing hard against the column of her throat, effortlessly handling the mess of limbs on his knees that is stiffening & seizing with the pressure it takes her to release it all. she thinks she’s seeing sounds, she thinks she’s hearing colors- by the time she comes back down to earth, she has half a mind on her to breathe, and only through the demanding of him who is now holding her chin in his palm: “ don’t pass out on me now, keep breathin’, keep breathin’.”
it feels cold, when his fingers finally vacate their cozy home, but they are soon to find another- he uses the hand on her chin to pull her jaw a bit down, fingertips squishing into her cheeks to make her open up so he can stuff her mouth with the very same fingers with a dazed look in his eyes. “ polite girls clean up after themselves,” he murmurs. the tangy taste melts on her tongue, sucking on suguru’s fingers as he slowly rocks them a bit, imitating the lewd imagery of her sucking his cock. it would be a pretty sight, she thinks. to see him with his head tipped back, to rob him stark naked of any control he might have, to own him by the balls, as they say. but suguru doesn’t seem interested in the idea, as he just sighs, contently watching her suck on his fingers. she’s always thought he had pretty eyes, violet hues that have been shining with brilliance from the day she’s met him. “ i can’t be doing everything around here, can i?” the way he asks is so fucking condescending, she can’t help the way her ears burn as he pushes his hips into hers to remind her of the very painful hard on that’s been straining against her thigh now. “ ‘m not satoru, sweetheart- i don’t give out free dick. if you want it, you earn it. ” the now empty hand comes harsh against the plush fat of her ass, making her let out a muffled cry through his fingers. “ ride me like you mean it. ”
he doesn’t have to tell her twice.
the unbuckling of his belt and the freeing of his hard on is unceremonious, but the thrill of it is so, so heavy in her blood she thinks she’d ride this high for a good year, if she was lucky. he’s not as long as satoru, but the girth of him makes her gulp with the unsavory calculation- it doesn’t take a genius to know it’s going to be a hell of a stretch. suguru, who seems to have noticed her hesitation, grins a little. “ aw, afraid of dick, now?” he mocks, and she hates how much she really likes the genuine laugh he lets out, even when he’s bullying her. “ it doesn’t bite. go on, now. ” she wraps a hand around the base of it, her knuckles brushing against the dark happy trail as she indulges herself in a leisure stroke, watching his eyes roll back with an animalistic pleasure. all she knows is that she wants to see more of it, so when her thumb reaches the angry & leaking tip, she makes sure to apply all the pressure she can manage. “ i think the dick is afraid of me, baby. ” she teases, teeth grazing the corner of his jaw. “ you’ve been packing this the whole time? damn, maybe i got the wrong bestie.”
suguru can’t manage a response with the way he looks like he’s on cloud nine beneath her, and she finds it sweet, the way he leans into her touch, the way he’s lost in it. having decided that she doesn’t want pleasure if it doesn’t involve hers, she aligns him with her slick entrance, letting the fat tip nudge against her folds with a shaky breath, and tilting her hips to let him sink into her without further teasing.
the moan they let out when he’s finally inside her is in unison, but his is much whinier than hers and she finds that she revels in the sound- she’d never think him to be whiny in bed, never think him the one to release control. but here he is, holding onto her hips in the backseat of a honda civic, the living and breathing embodiment of pussy whipped. “ holy fuck,” he gasps out, his adam’s apple bobbing as his head tips back to the headrest. “ holy fuck.”
“ you’re gonna eat your fucking words, suguru,” she confesses in his ear, in the most saccharine voice imaginable as her thighs part to dig her knees on the leather seats so she can ride him to her heart’s content, moaning every single time he bottoms out, every single time his head kisses her cervix, filling her up so nicely. all she can think about is how he deemed her unworthy of him in the bar an hour ago. “ oh, no words? the whiny girl’s pussy got your tongue, baby?” she latches onto his throat just so she can leave a pink mark of hers, just for him to see in the mirror, just for him to have to sit down in satoru and try to explain where that came from. what a scene it would be, how she would have given a kidney and a lung to see it. suguru, to the proof of her point, is too focused on not busting on the spot all her teasing is returned by radio silence except for grunts and whines. he looks so drunk, she wants to kiss him just for that, but she bites on the inside of her cheek instead, wanting him to know what real desperation was. his hands are so, so tight on her waist, and his mumbles are her favorite song.
well, except the ringtone that disturbs the perfect rhythm she has found, an unexpected caller.
it is coming from suguru’s pocket, to which she has no problem digging around to find. “ i’ve got you, sweetness, keep moaning like that,” she kisses his forehead just to drive her mockery home, before her eyes lock on the screen.
gojo.
if it wasn’t lucky.
“ no, no, give me that back-” suguru attempts to get his hands on his phone but she is already answering before he can manage, and the first thing they hear is satoru’s voice, who never lets anybody speak first if he’s the caller: “ dude, i’ve been calling you all fucking night, ” he complains. “ where the hell have you been?”
suguru is looking at her with pleading eyes, but seeing how that desperation erodes with a single roll of her hips is so satisfactory there is no shame in her voice as she responds: “ he’s busy, satoru babes,” she laughs, giddy. and it takes a hot minute for the white haired walking ego on the other end of the line to register her voice. “ what?... how?... what the fuck?” by now there is no fucking way he’s not hearing the sweet moans suguru is releasing, too pussy-whipped to realize the situation she put them in, too pussy-whipped to stop. “ say hi, sugu.” she plays an evil more diabolical card, shoving the mic right in the corner of suguru’s mouth, who is now scrambling for the last bits of his late composure. “ sato-oh, fuck, satoru, i can’t- i couldn’t- oh my fucking god, ‘ts so tight, ” unable to string a form of coherent sentences, she thinks she could cum from just how mouth-watering the view is.
“ suguru, are you fucking my girl right now?” satoru is asking with a bamboozlement she has never heard in his voice before but before he can get an answer she hangs up, tossing the phone somewhere in the messy seats- not everything is about satoru, and leaving him hanging is a bigger punishment than letting him stay on the phone for the whole thing. there was no knowing with the bastard- it wouldn’t be a punishment if he turned out to be into it, after all. torture or not, suguru is hers for the moment, and there is a prized possession in such belonging, she honors it with wrapping her arms around his neck and rocking into him like there is no tomorrow. “ you feel so good,” she breaths into his ear, honest and genuine. “ you feel so fucking good, suguru. you’re so beautiful, look at you,” she slides his chin into her palm, gaze boring into his heavenly visage with an adoring look, even when he looks so utterly fucked out. “ who’s passing out on who now, hm? ”
maybe he would have panicked at the aspect of being caught red handed, maybe he would have stopped or would have actually do something about it when satoru calls again immediately after- but all he does is to shift deeper in the seat, spread his legs wider and start fucking up into her in a rhythm so unforgiving they go back to square one, all power evades her, being reduced to a ragdoll in his arms as he hooks his arms beneath her thighs and spreads her all the way open. “ you got wetter when he heard this,” he tugs on her earlobe, hoarse and teetering on the edge of his own pleasure. “ you got tighter when you picked up, such a fucking whore,” he grunts, and she is reeling, nails digging into his shoulders as she tries to take the pounding without screaming. “ little slut is gonna cum from being caught,” he mocks, breathless. “ go ahead and fucking cum.” he is so right there is no fighting it- he commands with that growl and she is falling apart before she can stop it, and suguru is right behind her.
it takes minutes, for both of them to come down from their highs, as suguru keeps spilling into her with no end and she keeps milking him for all he’s worth, clinging to each other like their lives depended on it. knowing that satoru had stopped calling somewhere right before they came, it truly might have, as there was no knowing what he would be doing right now. his silence was scarier than his reactions, but at the moment she really can’t bring herself to care. “ you doin’ okay?” he asks, making her jolt on his thigh just to get a reaction out of her, brushing her damp strands away from her face, revealing her hazy gaze and unfocused eyes. “ cockdrunk,” he grins. “ look at yourself, poor little thing.” her limbs still work enough for her to give him a slap on the bicep along a roll of her eyes. “ says the man who moaned like a bitch to the boyfriend of the girl he’s fucking. who knew you were such a whore, suguru?” her tongue darts out to lick her dry lips. “ you’re full of surprises.”
“ and you’re so full of unnecessary words,” he sighs, both to how she immediately became annoying again and how it feels when she finally lets him slide out of her, remaining seated on his thigh. none of them make an attempt to leave this cozy nest they have been indulging in for a good hour or two now. “ at this point i just think you are incapable of going fifteen minutes without hearing your own voice.” she snorts with the response, shifting off his lap to collapse right next to him, both of them breathing heavy in silence for a moment. “ what now?” he asks after a few minutes, looking over at her with those heaven of violet eyes.
she offers him the most charming, dazzling smile of hers. “ what happens is that you tell satoru i said hi,” she says. “ and get out of my car, suguru. i’m done with both your asses.”
© written by lotuseye. do not translate or copy my work.
#jjk#jjk angst#jjk fluff#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen angst#satoru gojo#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen smut#kinktober 2024#kinktober#kinktober jjk#suguru geto#satosugu#satosugu x reader#satosugu x you#gojo x you#gojo x reader#geto x you#geto x reader#suguru geto smut#satoru gojo smut#satosugu smut#𖤓 gojo satoru.#𖤓 geto suguru.
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Why I don't really like the 12th house. / observations
How I perceive the 12th house, my real life observations on it and why I don’t really like it
TW : mention of anx!ety, d€pressi0n, self-und0ing attempt, mental he@lth issu€s, pan!c att@cks
(Sorry in advance for the constant cens0r!ng, I don't want to run the risk of getting shadowbanned like it almost happened before)
In december and january of 2023/2024 I was having 12th house transits (Mars then Venus). This is what I wrote on my notes app about the negative experience I had :
I am currently having 12th house transits at the time (Mars then Venus) and I've been so much sleepier and prone to irrational, unexplainable stress. Like I wake up and I am still tired bruhh I hate it as a Mars Dom I usually instantly and really easily wake up in the morning so it's frustrating because I feel less productive and sloppier and daydreamy but in a bad way.
Why I don't really like the 12th house...
I genuinely don't understand the "hype" (if we can even use that word) around the 12th house. When I first got into astrology, I saw so many posts about it saying how magical it was, how special it is to have placements in this house, how it means that you have a higher purpose than others, how you are so sensitive, an empath...And I have to say, yes, of course, some of it is true. However, it is clearly a more romantisized description of the 12th house. This idea of a romantisized version of the house was then overtime validated by the fact that every single person that I've met with 12th house placements/stelliums were far from living this almost fantasy like description. In fact, these positive traits seem to be rarely easily expressed for people who haven't studied astrolgy to get to know themselves better and understand their purpose. The people that I know with these placements were mostly d€pressed, too nice, had anx!ety attacks, insomn!as , and sleepless nights. It is honestly such a lonely house. Having these placements in the capitalistic utilitarist world we live in is sadly more of a curse than a blessing...
People I know with 12th house stelliums/ placements
• One of my friends has a 12th house stellium, her Sun in Taurus, Moon in Gemini and Mercury in Aries being there (the sign of the house is aries). She also has an Aries North node in the 12th house.
She always felt overstimulated and often told me that sometimes she didn't know if what she was thinking was really her own thoughts or other people's. She also had this obsession, or more so obsessive fear, with the idea of having to/ being forced to "sacrif!ce herself" for other people, for a job, for school,.. We often discussed this fear of hers and she would tell me this "why do people think we necesseraly have to suffer in life ? Why is struggle and suffering so normalised ? I don't want to sacrifice myself to achieve something, i don't want to purposefully inflect myself pain to live ? This is so weird to think that suffering is inevitable if you want to survive or live. That it's a normal part of life and that we should all be agreeing with it"
She is really empathetic and sweet but sometimes becomes all of a sudden defensive and passive-aggressive. She is also often anx!ous and as a result doesn't eat or sleep correctly.
Another one of my high school friends, less close, has a 12th house stellium in Aries (Sun, Moon, Mercury and Venus). He also has a North node in Aries in the 12th house.
Because I am/was not really as close with him as i am with the previous friend, i can moslty only share my impressions and assumptions from the interactions i had with him. I think it's interesting to say that his energy really stood out to me. He had sleepy eyes and a melancolic aura that reminded me of 19th century poets. If you know about Arthur Rimbaud, there's this one picture where he seems to look away. He basically looked like he was permanently captured by an old antique camera. His energy felt like what sepia looks like if that makes sense. He also had green or blue eyes (i don't exactly remember) that emphasazied the impression that he was mourning for something permanently. They were wondering, pensive almost sorrowful.
He was really gentle with people. His friends often said he was like a teddy bear, despite being almost 2meters tall. It's interesting to point out too that he was a gym bro. I think he would go to the gym probably 6 times a week sometimes, yet was so nice and calm. He wasn't acting like a cringy alpha male, which is pretty surprising for a cis heterosexual gym bro man with an Aries Sun, stellium and North node.
I think part of it is the 12th house influence that toned down this energy a bit, and instead of being selfish like a regualr aries, he was more selfless. He was always respectful towards women and never shamed people. However, he had a lot of insecurities and felt kind of helpless regarding fixing certain problems in his life. He was sometimes a bit too passive, and wasn't too comfortable when met with conflicting energies or situations that required decisive reactions.
My sister has Lilith in the 12th house and her subconscious thought processes can become easily extremely s€lf destructive. She was diagnosed with severe depr€ssion and had to go to the mental h0spital once after doing a self-vndo!ng attempt. When her symptoms were still intense and she was still struggling a lot, she had to go to see a psychiatr!st and a therap!st on a weekly basis. It was a scary and crazy time. Until this day, she still has terrible sleeping patterns, many ins0mn!as, and often has pan!c att@cks. I distinctively remember one time it was so intense I thought she really was going to pass aw@y. She also used to have (and still a little) a huge victim complex, where she felt like she was condamned and doomed to live a miserable life, and that she is deeply misunderstood.
What drove me to come on here is a new student that I have met in college this year. We instantly clicked then she told me she was an Aquarius with an Aquarius rising and a Sagittarius moon. 3 of her personal planets fall in the 12th house, which means that, just like the two friends I have mentioned, she has a stellium. She then went on to explain to me how she was diagnosed with an anx!ety dis0rd€r. She said that she used to have, at some point, three pretty intense panic attacks on a daily basis. She told me that when she saw a therap!st for an appointment, the th€rap!st was shocked and said that it was probably one of the worst cases she has ever dealt with (update 21/10/24 : she actually didn't say that it was one of the worst cases of her career, she was just genuinely shocked at how my friend was able to survive living like this for such a long time).
This made me realize that there is definitely a theme with the 12th house surrounding chaotic sleeping patterns, restlessness, overthinking, numbness, emptiness, hightened anx!ety, melancolic tendancies, s€lf-sacrif¡ce and depr€ssi0n.
All of that to say that this house is somehow terrifying to me. I get the fascination for it. I just find it too eerie in a way. My chart, despite being a Sagittarius rising, is filled with fixed and cardinal signs. Pluto is prominent in my chart as it is thigtly conjunct my ascendant, so I don't behave and move through life like a stereotypical Sagittarius rising. On top of that, I have an 8th house stellium in Leo... I need to have control over things and situations, my ego is strong (i am working on it lol) and it is hard for me to surrender.
Therefore, the hyper mutable energy of the 12th house, its uncertainty and blurriness, gives me "anx!ety" and unsettles me. I never know what a 12th houser really thinks and neither do they themselves in a way. My fixed *ss finds that so stress inducing. I like when things are made direct and clear, but nothing about this house is direct nor clear.
#astro notes#astro observations#astrology#astro community#pick a card#pick a card reading#pick a picture#pick a pile
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Okay hear me out. König always thought he was a dom yeah, so when his darling asks to explore her oral fixation on his d!ck, he though keeping his promise (of not forcing it down her throat) would be hard.
Only, first few kitten licks and soft suckles on his tip and he starts whimpering, totally subby for her. And she just wants to explore :((( so she keeps just the tip in her mouth (reverse Just The Tip), giving it the attention it deserves.
König never knew he could come like that from just that.
- Beer anon 🍻
just the tip | Konig
summary: look above :p
| ok so ive been kinda obsessed with like.. pervy Konig and other cod characters as well so im just exploring that type of writing for a bit to see if you guys like it and me so, lmk if we want more perky Konig in the future :ppp
" come here maus.. tell me whats wrong." Konig said, leaning back in his chair, patting his lap. he watched as your straddle him, a smile on his lips. he pulls your pink skirt down, gripping your thighs after. "talk to me, whats wrong." he says softly, his other hand on your hip. you hear the game in the background, his friends through his headset yelling obscene words.
Konig had always seen you as his precious little girl. most would say he took advantage of your innocence, you say he was simply teaching you more about your body. your parents were extremely religious, the topic of sex never even coming up. not even in school. they put you in a religious school, blocking any chance of you learning about male or female pleasure. of course, you'd get curious in the night, your hand slipping down between your legs to touch whatever was throbbing between your legs. but you had no idea what you were doing, and nothing seemed to feel good. not until you met Konig of course.
you guys have never fully had sex, not fully at least. at night he would slip between your legs, pulling your night gown up. " just the tip" he'd whisper, pulling his dick through his underwear hole. you'd always been curious about his dick. like what was coming out of his tip when he'd pull it out his pants, or even when he'd pull out of you? why was it warm? why was it white? there were so many questions you had but were too scared to ask.
and he'd always finish on your cunt, never inside. he'd give maybe four thrusts before he'd pull out, gasping above you and jerking off until the white warm liquid would spurt onto your cunt. and he'd always tell you how pretty your pussy is, how one day hes gonna fuck you. but not now. not yet. but you always wondered what it was like to have him fully inside you. his tip alone was thick, and it was uncomfortable the first time he slid it in. the way your walls stretched out around him.
and every time you'd tell him about the throbbing between your legs, he'd happily set you on his leg, bounce you up and down until your body twitched on top of him, and you let out those pretty, high pitched moans while you gripped onto his shirt tightly. " schönes mädchen - pretty girl~" he would coo into your ear, rubbing your lower back as you came down from your orgasm.
"I uhm.. I am curious about something." you said softly, your fingers playing with the hem of his shirt. he'd then lean forward in the chair, grabbing his headset. " hey guys, ill be right back. my girlfriend needs something real quick." he said, muting his mic and sitting back in the chair. he smiled back at you, tilting his head. " curious about what, maus?" he asked, hands placed back in their original spots. oh how he called you maus. it made the throbbing between your legs form so quickly.
you whimpered, shifting on his lap. you felt the semi bulge of him pressing right onto your cunt, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. " uhm y-your.. your dick.. I wanna try something." you said, never looking at him. he chuckled softly, lifting your head. " is that so?" he whispered, looking you in your eyes. you blushed and nodded, shifting once more. " c-can I put it.. in my mouth." you asked softly, looking away from his gaze.
you could've sworn he let out a whimper, his grip on your chin firming up. he shifted beneath you, smiling. " think you can take it all maus?" he asked, looking down between you both. his dick pressed firmly against your cunt now, the hardness of it applying the perfect pressure onto your clit. you nodded your head, the blush on your cheeks growing stronger. " i.. I can try." you whispered, gripping his shirt stronger.
he looks up, a smile on his face. "on your knees." was all he said, pushing you gently off his lap. his hands worked to pull his dick out of his pants, watching you the whole time. it bounced off his stomach when he pulled it from his underwear, his tip red with the same white substance pooling at the top. you swallowed, looking up at the size of him. it was a bit nerve wracking, and he divinely saw that. " just the tip" he said softly, reaching down to grab the back of your head.
he led you to his hard on, watching you. " open your mouth baby just a- there you go" he said, watching as your mouth opened wide for him. "stick your tongue out libeling." he said, gripping the base of him. he slapped his length on your tongue, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth. " just the tip.. come on." he whispered, guiding himself into your mouth.
he gasped when he felt the warmth and wetness of your mouth around his tip, his mouth falling open. his grip on the back of your head tightened, a soft whimper slipping past him when you looked up at him. " s-suck it libeling.. like a l-lollipop." he said, watching you from above. you hummed, your eyes moving down to look at the rest of what wasn't in your mouth. your tongue subconsciously pressed flat on the bottom of his tip, your head bobbing up and down just a bit, enough to give his tip attention alone.
his head fell back against the chair, his eyes squeezing shut. his hips so desperately tried to buck up further into your mouth, but he promised just the tip, as always. "ho-hollow your cheeks.. maus.. please." he whimpered above you, his mouth falling open once more. you did as he asked, hollowing your cheeks. he gasped out again, feeling every side of your warm mouth around his tip. his hands gripped his arms rests, his legs bouncing up and down as he tried to hold back his orgasm.
but you weren't done with him. you were having fun, watching how you pleasured him. it felt good. and it surely made your cunt throb. you felt your slick run between your thighs, a whimper coming from you. but you wanted more.
you pulled him out of your mouth, looking at his dick. he looked back down at you, confused. you leaned back forward, your tongue pressing flat on his tip. another whimper from above you. you assumed that it felt good for him, so you continued. your hand gripped his base, holding his dick still. your other found his thigh, holding onto it while your rested on the tips of your toes. " g-oddam maus.. fuck put it back in your mouth" he whined, watching how you traced your tongue around his tip. and you did just that.
you swallowed his tip back between your lips, looking back up at him. pretty whimpers left his lips, occasional growls as he watched you give his tip small bobs of your head around his tip. " c-cant take anymore.. oh my g-god" he cried out, his super body jerking forward. his hips thrusted up a bit, apologizes flying out his mouth. it was never enough for his whole length to slide into your mouth, but it definetly threw you off guard.
" keep going maus.. g-gonna cum..please~" he whined, watching how your eyes closed around him, both your hands wrapped around his dick now. his head flew back, back arching off the chair as you felt a warm liquid spurt against your tongue. you gasped around him, attempting to pull back but he was quicker. he gripped the back of your head, holding you in place. " s-stay there baby.. fuck please s-stay there." he whimpered, his hips bucking up once again.
it was a salty taste, warm too. you didnt know what to really do with it so, you swallowed it. it went down slimy, a small whimper coming from you. above you, Konig panted heavily, his grip on your head still firm. half of his dick was in your mouth at this point, and you honestly didnt mind. his eyes were closed, mouth ajar as the rest of his cum came out of him. " s..so g-good" he whimpered, opening his eyes slowly.
he looked down at you, seeing how full your mouth looked with just his dick. he smiled and pulled it out, watching the saliva string between your lips and his dick. "sorry." he whispered, smiling down at you. you shook your head and remained on the floor, looking up at him. " can.. can I do it again." you asked softly, hands going to grip him once more. a small whimper escaped from him, his eyes squeezing shut. " s-sure maus just give me a- fuck!" he cried out, feeling your lips back around his tip.
he opened his eyes,, watching you wrap your lips around his tip again. this time, your tongue swirled around the hole at the top of his tip, earning a loud whine from him. his body pressed back against the chair, his hips pulling back from you. " l-libeling please I just.. oh fuck~" he cried out, his head falling back. you didnt really know what came over you, or why you were so obsessed with this. but it was fun to be able to do something you've been thinking of for so long. especially when the outcome is this good.
it didnt taker long for Konig to feel that second orgasm coming up. his legs tensed up, his hands finding your cheek. " oh im cumming, im cumming I-im... fuck right there" he cried, his hips jerking forward into your mouth. he knew what he did but he couldnt help it. the way your mouth wrapped so perfectly around his tip, your tongue tracing small circled around his tip. it was like you'd done this before.
pretty little cries came from him as he felt his load shoot into your mouth again, quiet 'please' coming from him. you pulled away, the mix of saliva and cum stringing between your lips and his dick. your shirt was ruined too, drool completely covering the top half. his eyes were hooded, mouth ajar. his chest rose and fell slowly, his legs shaking beside you. you giggled at the sight, the roles now reversed. " n..no more.. please. cant take it." he mumbled, holding your shoulders back to stop you from wrapping your lips around him again. you giggled and nodded, standing to sit on his lap.
his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close. his head rested into your chest, taking in your scent. " so tired.." he whispered, pressing a kiss to your wet chest. " lets take a nap." you said softly, watching how he looked so small beneath you. kinda how you looked after he made you cum. but soft snored erupted from below you and you knew that he had fallen asleep. you giggled and ran your hands through his hair, sighing softly. " goodnight "
you knew it was wrong, but you couldnt help the throbbing between your thighs anymore. so, on his sleeping body you moved your hips back and forth on him, helping yourself to an orgasm as well.
omg I loved this request so fucking much!! and im so sorry it took this long to get out, life has been beating my ass. more requests coming out soon!
#cod#call of duty fan fiction#call of duty x reader#cod x reader#konig#konig smut#konig fanfiction#konig x reader
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just one kiss ༓ kth (m)
✑ Summary: You and your husband always seem to want each other at the most inconvenient times. Tonight, it happens to be right when you're about to sleep before your next work shift. You find it harder and harder to say no.
pairing: Taehyung x reader (f.)
genre/AU: PWP, fluff, smut, established relationship, married au, comfort
word count: 3.6k
warnings: softdom!taehyung, sub/minor switch!reader, swearing, kissing, asking for consent, f*inger*ng, ✨sensual✨ but also r*ough penetrative s*x (oc on the birth control), big d*ck, light neck b*ting/sucking, praise kink (both), body worshipping, pleading (tae just wants to please...), hint of possessiveness, hint of banter, m*ssionary/two ways, t*t sucking/f*ndling, impr*g kink (both), multiple org*sm, mentions of aftercare, Tae being a little whiny at first, he calls her baby/darling, mentions of vintage, rated R movie
now playing: Where I Belong by Bobby Bazini, Drops of Jupiter by Train
a/n: I have nothing to say other than I've been on a writing spree this week and this happened....heh 😅 Taehyung's Type 1 photos made me do it! Okay, bye! Hope you enjoy 🤍
Taehyung looked more than handsome when he came home tonight, the buttons of his dress shirt undone just enough to let your eyes greedily wander his smooth, tanned chest. The sleeves were neatly rolled up to his elbows too, displaying his rather muscular biceps.
He’s been working out with the guys more frequently the last few months and yes, you’ve been silently benefiting from it.
Of course, you loved the way he looked before too —he’s sexy either way.
Despite feeling very much teased by your husband (though it wasn’t his intent), your evening consisted of dinner and a movie instead. It's an old, vintage film he's been dying for you to see for ages—an underrated classic assigned by his college professor during his final semester. When you caught sight of the VHS tape in his hands earlier, you quickly connected the dots of what the evening would look like.
But while both of you initially immersed yourselves in the black-and-white film, things gradually changed about halfway through when a number of rather steamy scenes started playing.
"It's not exactly about the sex," your husband explains as matter-of-factly as he can. "It's passion between the two main leads who've been repressed for so long. Not only by society but also from their own set of social standards. They're finally breaking free."
"Gotcha," you nod, "I suppose it's a turning point for them then." You continue watching the movie until one of the leads begins climbing over the other, stripping the other of their clothes. "God Tae, they're really showing a lot here. I wasn't expecting this much action for a movie made in the 40s."
Tongue in cheek, he studies your somewhat taken aback facial expression. "You see why it's such an underrated film for its time?"
"Mhm," you reply, your throat suddenly feeling dry. "I'm, uhm, I'm beginning to see."
Once you're certain his attention is back on the TV screen, you sneak a quick look at him. He’s completely serious, appreciating the artistic direction of the film. Meanwhile, you on the other hand are suddenly getting very distracted by past images of your husband's naked body flashing through your mind (No thanks to the film he’s chosen).
Fuck __, get it together, you scold yourself.
You're never typically this affected by a cinematic sex scene for fuck sake.
"You okay?" His deep voice jolts you in surprise.
You smile, hoping you seem composed. "Uh, yes, fine. Just...enjoying the movie."
Taehyung hesitates for a moment, appearing somewhat suspicious, then responds with a simple, "Good. I'm glad."
Once the movie ends, you both climb into your shared bed, feeling mutually exhausted. You're rolled on your side now, him behind you with a hand secured around your waist. Taehyung's embrace feels so comforting with how close he holds you.
But then, you feel a subtle poke in your lower back and it tells you everything you need to know about where his next agenda is heading; he’s hard.
You’ve been pretty worked up since your head hit your pillow yourself, however, the movie took over three hours to finish. Your body is not nearly strong enough for any messing around tonight, plus you have work in less than eight hours. You simply do not have the time or energy.
Taehyung thinks otherwise.
“Baby?” his breath tickles your skin as he presses himself against your back. Long, gentle fingers find their way under the material of your shirt easily. The touch is cool against your warm skin, causing you to shiver ever so slightly. “Baby, are you awake?” he tries again, voice laced with the richest honey.
Fuck, you curse to yourself, he’s decided to use that voice; his seducing voice. Okay fine, who are you kidding— it’s his normal voice. After all, it doesn’t take much for him to turn you on with that naturally husky voice of his.
You can’t give in though. You seriously have work at the crack of dawn, and if you let him have his way now, you’ll be at it all night. Taehyung likes to take his time with you whenever you're intimate, per usual. Or, alternatively, the two of you end up abandoning all self-control, choosing to go round after round instead.
“Mm,” you let out a sleepy groan, “Not tonight, Tae. I have work in the morning.”
Subtly, you close a hand over his to stop his movements. Somehow, during all your thinking, they managed to travel dangerously close to your boobs.
“I haven’t even told you what I want yet,” he protests, a near pout.
You stifle an amused chuckle. “I'm no stranger to what you’re doing, Tae. We’ve been together far too long for me not to know. I can also feel you in my lower back,” you note, referring to how hard he’s gotten. “Tomorrow we can do whatever we want. Wait one more night.”
Your husband buries his face into the crook of your neck, attempting to snuggle into you. “Promise?” He presses a feather-like kiss to the delicate area and you can’t resist the faint moan that it elicits. Your neck has always been highly sensitive, which your husband knows all too well.
“I promise,” you barely manage to form a reply.
“Seal it with a kiss?” He asks as innocently as he can. Though, you have to question his antics. You really wanna turn your head around and kiss him like he wants, so badly. But what’s stopping you? The fact that his lips are always so soft and you know you’ll be after more.
Fuck, now you want him.
"We kissed plenty of times earlier, didn't we?" you struggle to keep yourself composed, voice cracking.
"Not nearly enough. Please, baby, I missed you the entire day. One kiss.”
God, you sigh inwardly, he’s too fucking hard to say no to.
“We’ll go to sleep right after,” you state as sternly as possible, twisting your neck until you're eye to eye with your husband. It’s dark in your bedroom, but you can tell by how lust-blown his eyes are that he’s just drinking you up.
“You’re so beautiful,” he rasps, catching you completely off guard. You blush instantly, cheeks flaring with warmth. You hope your husband won’t notice due to the pitch blackness of the room, but he does, given the cheeky smile that spreads across his face. “Oh god, I love you so much,” he says, then presses his lips firmly to yours in a passionate kiss.
Not another word slips out from either of you for the next half minute, your mouths instead moving against each other rhythmically. You both let out breathy moans as your tongues begin fighting for dominance (your husband wins easily). You didn’t mean for it to go this far, really you didn’t. Nonetheless, here you are in a heated make- out with your husband, one hand lifted above your head to thread through his silky hair.
Taehyung grunts the rougher you pull and slides his own hand to your inner thigh, gripping it tight and prying it open. Naturally, you roll on your back which he gladly takes as his opportunity to pull you towards himself.
With your bodies facing each other on your sides, his bare chest comes flat against yours, Taehyung lifts one of your legs until it comfortably snakes around his hip.
“Tae,” you struggle to catch your breath as he begins planting kisses up and down your neck, “We can’t…I...have to work.”
He doesn’t reply, choosing to suck along the delicate part of your neck instead. Your eyes roll up in response, every nerve in your body feeling like they’ve been set on fire.
“Tae, baby-” you start again, but he hushes you.
“Darling,” he coos, “we’re kissing right now. I’ll stop if you want me to, but don't you think work can wait for a while?” He then nips at your jaw before capturing your lips again. They’re going to be bruised if he keeps this up. “Do you really want me to stop? Say the word and I will.” He’s looking at you now, patiently waiting for your answer. You think he’s quite sneaky for leading you into his honeytrap, but who are you fooling…you want this.
“You’re right, screw work.” You then pull yourself over his body, forcing him to lay on his back as you sit up and straddle him. “I love you.” You then lift your top over your head, revealing your naked chest to him. He’s seen it a million times and each time he looks at you with such widened eyes, so full of awe.
“I-“ he starts, bringing his hands up to gently caress your sides. The pads of his thumbs circle over your skin soothingly and you hum in satisfaction. “I love you too,” he finally says. “You’re so fucking amazing. My best and worst dream wrapped into one giant tempt-“
“Okay Tae, shh," it's your turn to hush him now, sweet as you can as you roll your hips forward and into his. It's just enough to draw out a throaty moan. “I think it’s clear we both love each other quite a lot hm? Because I adore you too," you add.
He nods in understanding.
“Then,” you lean forward until your centimeters from his face, ass in the air. “Fuck me.”
A growl like you haven’t heard before instantly drops for his lips. Taehyung grabs your waist with sturdy hands and flips you both over, his body hovering over yours so closely as your back hits the mattress. “I was hoping you’d say that,” he says, fingers dancing along your sides. “May I?” You know exactly what he’s asking for so you nod.
“Please do.”
His palms move up to your breasts not a second later, thumbs rolling over the hardened peaks. Your back arches into hands at the friction, eliciting soft, drawn out moans from both of you.
“Shit,” he swears, hands tightening around you as he gropes your tits, “I want to suck them,” he deadpans and you nearly choke at the bluntness. Usually, he asks permission for a second time, but he doesn’t this time…not that you mind the subtle change.
“Go ahead,” you give him the green light and it’s all he needs before bringing his lips down to close around your boob. Your jaw clenches as his tongue sensually licks around a nipple, gently biting it now and then. It’s clear that the wetness between your thighs only increases with every movement. “Please, need more. It feels so good, but it’s not enough…fuck!”
You gasp when his tongue suddenly moves from your breast and latches itself to the ridge of your neck. You want to tell him not to leave marks where you can’t cover them up, however, he’s far too convincing that you don't.
“I know baby,” he hums, disgustingly seductive, “we’ll get there but let’s be patient, hm? Your body looks so perfect right now. Wanna savor it a little longer. Is that okay? Will you let me do that?”
The gentleness of his request, paired with his ridiculously deep voice, sends literal shivers up your spine. You want him to fuck you here and now, yet you feel yourself bending to his will. But no, that won’t work tonight. You hate to say it but you really are pressed for time.
“I-Taehyung if we don’t fuck soon, it’ll be dawn and before we know it I’ll have to leave and the last time we tried-“
“Alright, easy darling,” he relaxes you from your long winded argument with a small chuckle, “I concede. I’ll fuck you.”
You feel yourself clench in anticipation as you watch him get up to remove his pants, swallowing hard when his generous length meets your eyes.
You shouldn’t stare.
It’s not polite to stare.
You’re shameless, truly, because you can’t take your eyes off of him.
“Look at me, baby,” Taehyung calls you out of your daze, to which you quickly lift up your chin to meet his piercing gaze. “Tell me what you’re thinking in that pretty head of yours.”
“I…want to suck it,” you admit, no longer able to hold yourself back.
Your husband hums at your response and climbs back towards you on the bed, stopping near your legs.
“Suck what?”
“Uhm, well,” your voice wavers and you don’t know why, other than the fact that you are getting major distracted by the way his fingers smoothly guide your knees up, prying them apart.
“Yes? I’m still listening.”
Being that you’re wearing shorts, Taehyung moves his head between your spread legs and presses a kiss to your inner thigh.
“Say it,” he encourages, “we both know the answer anyway.” You can feel him practically smirking against your leg.
“Don’t be cocky,” you counter, not yet realizing the weight of your reply until Taehyung directs his gaze on you with an amused expression.
“I think we both concluded a long time ago that that’s pretty near impossible for me, don’t you think?” He replies, earning a brief chuckle from you. Not before a small, exaggerated eye roll of course.
“Alright, you win. I want your cock,” you say, “No more of this cat and mouse game, but I'm so riled up. I need you inside me. You’ll let me suck you off tomorrow though, right?”
“If that’s what you want, darling. I’ll do anything for you.” He grazes the band of your shorts before continuing. “For now, these are going to need to go.”
You nod and he slips the thin material, along with your underwear, off your body. “Fuck,” he swears, taking in your naked form. “I’ll never get over the fact that you look like this. So beautiful, and only mine to see. Fuck. I don’t deserve you.”
With a single finger, he begins tracing up your center, easily feeling the wetness that’s gathered between your thighs. You don’t have time to feel even a shrivel of embarrassment when he begins sinking into your velvety walls, all the way down to the knuckle.
“Oh god, n-no, you deserve it. You definitely deserve it,” you stutter, back arching into his touch as he curls his finger in you. He then slips a second finger next to the first, to which you involuntarily clamp down on. “Fuck, your hands feel so good, Tae.”
Your praise evidently encourages him as he moves his fingers faster in you, curling them against your sweet spot repeatedly until you’re sure your neighbor, the one who lives across the street from you, can hear you.
“I’m gonna come!” You suddenly shout, the first orgasm of the night washing over you in the seconds following. When Taehyung slips his fingers out of you, it’s no surprise that they’re completely covered in your come. Per usual, he cleans them off himself and your core clenches at the action.
“I need to feel you,” he says shortly, bringing his body over yours until he’s directly above you, eye to eye. “Please, I’m so hard right now.”
You nod eagerly, feeling similar. “I need you too. Please...please fuck me.” The tip of his cock drags along your entrance, sliding against your slit before finally pushing in. You immediately wrap your legs around his waist, hooking your ankles together.
"Shit," he swears, bottoming out in you, "So wet, you're so wet, baby."
He starts a slow, steady pace at first, fucking into you deeper with each thrust of his hips. It's not rough, but rather sensual, as he loves nothing more than sinking himself into slowly, until you're letting out moan after moan, his name the only word on your lips.
"Let me hear you, darling," he coos, dragging his length all the way out before pushing back in, "I want to hear all your pretty moans tonight. Fuck, you feel amazing, do you know that? Such a perfect pussy."
His praises make you absolutely delirious as you toss your head back, eyes fluttering shut to bask in the pleasure.
"Am I making you feel good, too?" he continues. "Let me know if I am. I wanna make you feel nothing but mine; my darling, my wife."
"Yes, fucking yes. You're making me feel amazing Tae-" Your arms wrap up around his upper back, nails digging into his shoulder blades helplessly. Taehyung winces at the slight pain but doesn't stop his movements, preferring to bury his face into the small juncture between your neck and shoulder instead.
He then returns the favor by nipping at the area with his teeth, not enough to hurt, but enough that you give a short yelp. He licks over it after, soothing it gently.
"Oh g-god," you moan breathily, "I-I think I'm gonna come again." You find yourself clenching around him right then, and it takes your husband off guard as his balance slips, his body falling into you immediately. His elbows manage to re-stabilize himself and to your demise, allows him a new angle to fuck you from—one that's deeper, faster, and causes your legs to wrap around him tighter.
"Come for me," he nearly growls, gradually picking up his pace as he thrusts himself into you rougher, "I wanna feel you come on my cock. Can you do that for me, baby? Fuck, don't hold back."
"I'm c—" You have your release before the words have the chance to fully form, your husband covered in you for the second time of the night. "Please," you start a plead. "I want you to come too. Tell me how you want me. On my hands and knees, yes?"
With a soft hand, Taehyung lovingly caresses your face and presses a tender kiss to your lips. "I want you just like this, actually," he says, not an ounce of demand in his tone, "that way, I can see your beautiful eyes when I fuck into you. But I want your legs over my shoulders....if that sounds good to you."
As if you didn't just have your release, you feel your thighs threatening to clamp together at his request. "Yes," you agree hurriedly, "Anything sounds good, I just want you. And I want you to come too.”
With that, Taehyung straightens his back, throws your legs over his sturdy shoulders, and starts fucking into you mercilessly. He's fucked you sensually, worshipped your body from head to toe, praised you, and now? He's gonna finish in you.
"Holy shit," his grunts are labored as he chases his high, desperate to finally have his release. "Too m-much...so fucking good! I'm going to breed this pussy tonight, tell me how bad you want it, baby. Tell me...please."
It's inevitable that his desire to get you pregnant slips out, as it happens nearly every time you fuck. You share the same desire too, however, contrary to what just fell from his lips, he most certainly will not be getting you pregnant tonight—you're still on the pill. One of these days you might just let both your dreams come true, but for now you'll play into the fantasy.
"I do, I want it so bad," you moan, legs shaking as his cock plunges into you, his hands gripping around your hips. "Give me your babies, Tae, I want the—"
"Shit, I'm gonna come!" he suddenly announces, his thrusts growing messier as he twitches in you. He's dangerously close to finishing, and so are you; for the third time of the night.
"Come in me, baby," you struggle to say, "You deserve it so much, fuck, come in me Tae! Don’t stop, I wanna feel you cover me.
"Fuck!" He thrusts in you one last time before the cord within him finally snaps, ropes of his come filling you up instantly. He then lazily fucks you a few final times, attempting to ride out his high before setting your feet back on your mattress.
"I can't believe," he pants, now laying on his back beside you, "we nearly skipped all of this tonight."
"Yeah well, I was tired," you reply. "But I was also extremely wound up and that movie we watched might have had something to do with it."
Taehyung turns his face to you with a playful smile. "I know," he says simply. "I could tell from how hard you were trying to concentrate on the movie that you'd rather be jumping me."
"I-What? When did I give that impression?" You meet his eyes in shock. You thought for sure you were keeping yourself pretty well under wraps.
"Darling," he draws your face towards his to peck your lips, "you can only sneak glances at me so many times before I'm bound to notice. Not to mention the amount of times you excused yourself to get a glass of water when you had one sitting in front of you, on the coffee table, the entire time."
"Oh," is all you reply with, warmth spreading on your cheeks.
"For future reference, if you want to pause the movie and hm, do other things," he exaggerates his words, lifting a corner of his mouth into a faint smirk, "you only need to ask. I'll never say no to you."
"Evidently, same here," you chuckle lightly, "I'll consider it for next time. I'm actually really tired now."
"Me too, we should clean up and get to bed. I'll get you a towel," he rolls off the bed and heads straight for your joint bathroom.
"I love you!" you call out, though you're unsure that he heard you until he pokes his head out from the doorframe.
"I love you too, stay there okay? I'll be back in a second," he flashes a grin at you, then ducks back in.
Well fuck, you think, you're never giving him up—ever.
a/n: yeah, he's my dream 🫠 Now, I'm going to be good and go continue my series lol.
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How to Suck Your Best Friend’s D*ck 🍆💋
Fandom: My Hero Academia
Ship: Katsuki Bakugo x Eijiro Kirishima 💋
Genre: Smut, Fluff, Romance, S*xual Tension, Hurt/Comfort
CW: MDNI!, Characters are in their mid-twenties, A18+, kissing, romance, sexual tension, spicy scenes, hand job, lemon, making Out, Blow Job (giving + Receiving), Smut, Dirty Talk, Hair Pulling, Anxiety / Panic Attack, Mental Illness, OCD, Hurt/Comfort
💕Link to My Master List 💕
How to Suck Your Best Friend’s Dick
Kirishima runs his hand through his bright red hair in frustration as he looks himself up and down in his floor length mirror. He’s going out with the class 1A crew tonight to celebrate Bakugo’s 25th birthday and he can’t find anything to wear.
He’s currently wearing his typical dark skinny jeans; a charcoal waffle patterned long-sleeved tee and an oversized puffer vest. A long silver chain dangles at his side, clipped across his right pant pocket for aesthetic. He’s popped on a pair of steel earrings, with a matching industrial bar across the shell of his left ear.
He admires himself from a few different angles. “Ugh…so tacky.” He groans, pulling off his jeans to try something else. Katsuki is always telling the red haired hero to step up his style game. He’s constantly calling Kirishima out on his lack of fashion sense. But the thing is – Kirishima loves whenKatsuki notices what he’s wearing. He lives for the little moments when the explosion hero is nitpicks his outfits. Making fun of him for “dressing so tacky” or for “overdressing for the event.” It feels good to be looked at by Katsuki – to know that the blonde’s eyes (if even for a brief moment) are crisscrossing Eijiro’s toned body, appraising him.
Maybe tonight he’ll surprise Katsuki for once. Eijiro opens his closet again and grabs a shopping bag that’s shoved to the very back. Earlier that month, Mina took him shopping to buy what she called a “more low key” outfit to wear on dates. He had been complaining that the paparazzi always noticed him when he was out. He loved being acknowledged for his hero work – but there were just some nights when he wanted to fly under the radar. Mina had pointed out that his distinct punk style made him stick out like a sore thumb everywhere he went. Red Riot the hero had a style and a personal brand that was so strong; it made it impossible for him to blend in with a crowd.
“Red Riot has a brand, but Eijiro doesn’t need to stick to just one style.” Mina had told him as she searched through the racks of Abercrombie at their local mall. “Let’s start building up your civilian wardrobe. You’re 24 years old, it’s about time you started experimenting with your look. You don’t always have to wear the same pair of black skinny jeans. Let’s find some outfits that make you feel hot and confident!”
And that’s how he ended up with the shopping bag. He reaches down and pulls out a pair of soft corduroy pants. As he steps into the textured fabric, he wonders what Katsuki might think about them. They’re so different than what he usually wears, but they hug his ass much more nicely than his usual baggy clothes. Next he shrugs into a dark blue button down, leaving it unbuttoned over a white undershirt. He swaps out his steel earrings for a pair of small black studs. Lastly, he adds a pair of dark brown Chelsea boots to complete the look. He’s surprised at how comfortable the shoes are – he always thought boots like this would be stiff and unyielding.
He turns to look at himself in the mirror. Not bad – he smiles as he admires his new look. He cuts an impressive figure – the clothing hugs his figure in all the right ways, showing off his toned Pro Hero body. Mina really knows her stuff – he snaps a selfie and sends it to her, praising her fashion know-how. She instantly replies with a dozen smiley faces with heart eyes and the words “Wonder what Bakugo will think?” With a side eye emoji.
Kirishima grins at the message before looking back into the mirror. He unties his hair from its messy bun, letting it fall to his chin. On a typical day, he’d style and spike it up with an unholy amount of hair gel. But for this new look he’s trying…maybe tonight he’ll just leave it down. He grabs a hairbrush off his bedside table and smooths it out as much as he can. He’s having fun trying something new!
Feeling confident with his new duds, he checks his watch. Shit! Running late as usual. He hastily grabs his wallet and phone and all but sprints out the door.
The crew is meeting in their usual spot – The Wallfish - a grimy dive bar 4 blocks over from Kirishima’s apartment. The bartender is friendly and the place is always filled with locals. It’s low-key and no one pays any mind to the group of top ranked Pro Heroes and UA graduates that regularly frequent the establishment. It’s a special place – a holy place. The kind of spot the group can go to unwind after a long day of being Pros.
Kirishima arrives at the tiny dive out of breath, bursting through the door 20 minutes late to the party. He sees his friends crowded at the far side of the bar, all smiling and laughing in the long, dimly lit room.
Most of Class A is there – Mina and Hagakure are making heart eyes at the hot bar tender as he pours them drinks. Midoriya and Todoroki are sitting at the bar, laughing over tall glasses of some craft beer Eijiro can never remember the name of. Shoji and Oijiro are bent over Shoji’s cell phone near the jukebox, trying to remember the name of a 80s song they had heard earlier that day on the radio. Momo and Uraraka are chatting animatedly in the corner, the anti-gravity hero is clutching a cloud of “Happy Birthday!” foil balloons with All Might’s face printed on them. Other members of the class are scattered around the room – swapping work stories and sharing life updates. They’re all smiling, laughing and enjoying each other’s company.
And then there’s Bakugo – his best friend of all. The explosion hero has his elbow propped up on the bar, a low glass of whiskey in his hand. There’s a smile stretched across his handsome face and he’s snorting at some dumb story Denki is recounting. Katsuki is wearing a tight grey polo and a pair of dark navy joggers that perfectly shape his taught ass. His thick blonde hair is just the right amount of ruffled, and he’s looking gorgeous as all hell. Feeling someone’s eyes assessing him, Katsuki looks up and meets Eijiro’s gaze for a moment. His searing ruby eyes give Eijiro a quick once over and he smirks before turning back to Denki. Eijiro’s heartbeat quickens.
The sturdy hero quickly shakes his head to clear it and then looks back around the room at all of his dear friends. Seeing all his buddies in one place causes a feeling of warmth to well up in Eijiro’s fast beating chest. He smiles fondly at them all. It’s incredible that even years after graduating UA, they’re all still close like this. He doesn’t have long to bask in the glow of his love for his friends, because soon enough – they notice him.
“Oh my God! Eijiro, you look so CUTE!” Hagakure squeals, pulling Mina in his direction. “Mina told me she helped you go shopping – but I had no idea she had picked out something this hot! I want to strip you down and eat you up!
Kirishima blushes bright red as Momo and Uraraka take notice of him as well – rushing over to gush over his new ‘fit.
“Eijiro – you look wonderful!” Momo says, taking him in. She’s wearing a black backless dress that’s as sexy as it is expensive. “I love your Chelsea boots – so fashionable!”
“I just figured it would be nice to try something new.” He stammers, trying not to draw any more attention. “The paparazzi have just been hounding me lately – I want to be able to have a low-key night out for once without ending up in the tabloids.”
“His dinner date last week ended up on the front page of the paper.” Mina whispers conspiratorially to the other girls. “The paparazzi recognized Red Riot’s trademark look right away and wouldn’t let him enjoy his dinner in peace.”
“Oh no! That’s awful.” Uraraka gives him a sympathetic look. “How did your date react?”
Kirishima’s shoulders slump. “Well she liked the idea of going out with a Pro Hero…until the paparazzi knocked her wine into her lap and ruined her dress.” The girls gasp in horror.
“Did it stain?” Momo asked, dismayed. It is common knowledge that in Momo’s opinion, a ruined outfit should be punishable by law.
“Oh, yeah.” Kirishima makes a face. “It was red wine and she was wearing white. She left the date right then and there. Billed me for dry cleaning the next day.”
“Oh nooooooo!” Hagakure wails dramatically. “I’m guessing there won’t be a second date?”
Kirishima shakes his head no. “I knew that being a Pro would be challenging…I just never thought it would be so difficult to date in the spotlight. So I’m trying a more toned-down look. I don’t know if this outfit really screams “Kirishima,” but it’s nice to try something new!” The girls all nod approvingly, clearly proud of Kiri for pushing himself out of his comfort zone. They catch up for a bit – sharing bad date stories and swapping style tips. Hagakure has recently hooked up with a hot B-list Pro and is thrilled to share the details. Momo is hiring her first sidekick and is looking for referrals. Uraraka is looking for the perfect leather jacket but can’t seem to find anything nice under $400. After a half hour of chatting and swapping advice, Kirishima bats a few All Might balloons away from his head and excuses himself so he can go greet the birthday boy.
He sees Bakugo has moved to sit with Midoriya and Todoroki. He’s on his second whiskey and he’s grinning widely – a sure fire sign that he’s buzzed and happy. Katsuki’s gotten better at chilling the fuck out over the years, but it still takes a bit for him to let his guard down – even amongst friends. But with Kirishima, Bakugo is always comfortable. When it’s just the two of them, the vibes are immaculate – they can chill, have deep chats, and just enjoy silence together. It’s one of Eijiro’s favorite things about their friendship – how natural it feels to just do nothing together.
Tonight, though…tonight is an event. The entirety of their friend group is out and loud and ready to party. Kirishima makes a beeline towards his best friend, waving hello to other members of class 1A as he does so.
“Happy Birthday, man!” He claps a hand on Bakugo’s back, trying not to notice how toned and muscular the explosion hero’s shoulder feels beneath his grasp.
Katsuki looks up at him with intense ruby eyes. Once again, his eyes dart across Eijiro’s body as he all but drinks in the new outfit. Katsuki takes in the fitted pants and the new shirt before hovering on Eijiro’s loose red hair. For a moment he seems – speechless? Kirishima smirks, and Bakugo’s eyebrows knit together in an angry reply. He opens his mouth to make a comment on Kirishima’s ‘fit, but is quickly cut off by Izuku’s enthusiastic welcome.
“Kirishima! Hi! You look great – I don’t think I’ve seen your hair down like that in a while!” Izuku babbles, waving to get the bar tender’s attention as Kirishima pulls up a bar stool.
Bakugo rolls his eyes at his green-haired friend before turning back to Kirishima. His cheeks have the tiniest tinge of pink as he says: “Yeah, it’s nice to see you without that shitty hair style for once.” Kirishima smiles at the backhanded compliment and Katsuki looks away, swirling the whiskey in his glass.
The bar tender plants a martini in Kirishima’s hand without giving him a glance. As a regular, Eijiro hasn’t had to place an order in years. He sips the drink and grins as his friends start recounting stories from their first internships. Todoroki and Midoriya laugh as they mock Bakugo, remembering the way Best Jeanist had forced him to style his hair.
“I have sensitive skin – I’m allergic to hair products!” Bakugo groans as they pass around Midoriya’s phone to admire photographic evidence. Kirishima leans across Todoroki to see the photo – a young Bakugo stares daggers at the camera, his hair slicked back in a comical replica of the Fiber Hero’s signature coiffure. Best Jeanist looms behind him in the pic – tall, denim and in his prime as the Number 3 hero. Kirishima can’t help but notice the softness that touches Katsuki’s eyes as he glances over at the photo – Jeanist had been an invaluable mentor in their first year.
Eijirou marvels at how complex of a person Katsuki can be. Over the years, the explosion hero has definitely mellowed out. He’s calmer now, less angry. He’s a loyal and true friend. Katsuki is now the guy Kirishima calls for empathy after a particularly bad day at work. The friend he spends every Saturday night with playing video games and eating vegan nachos. Katsuki has always been in his corner – standing with him through good times and bad. Pushing him to become his best self as a Pro Hero and as a man. Katsuki has so many layers and sides to him – and Eijiro fondly realizes he likes each and every one.
“Why are you looking at me like that, shitty hair?” Katsuki’s low voice shakes Eijiro from his train of thought. With a start, he realizes that he’s already finished his first drink and the alcohol has made him hazy. He’s been openly staring at his friend for a solid minute.
“Damn, that’s strong.” He compliments the bar tender before turning back to his friend. “I dunno man, I was just thinking about how glad I am that we’ve been friends for so long! Happy to be out here celebrating you.”
“You’re too corny, Eij.” Katsuki says roughly, but he’s still grinning. The smile is unguarded and genuine – a sign that Katsuki is a drink or two in as well. They spend the next few minutes catching up about the latest video game releases and whose apartment they’ll go to for game night.
An hour goes by, then two. Eijiro can’t remember the last time he’s had so much fun.
Soon enough, he’s got three drinks in him and is dancing with the girls by the jukebox. He’s won a game of drunken charades against Tokoyami and has arm-wrestled with Shoji at least twice. Now as he’s dancing, he feels loose and warm and fuzzy. Mina grabs his hand and twirls him in a quick circle before pushing him towards Denki. The two bump their hips together in sync, eliciting squeals from the girls. Uraraka has acquired a hot pink-feathered boa from who-knows-where and has used it to ensnare Midoriya and pull him onto the dance floor. The green haired hero tries to remember the dance choreography from the school festival that they performed at all those years ago.
Everyone is comfortable and happy and beaming. It’s definitely shaping up to be one of his all time favorite nights out when Katsuki lightly grabs his arm and pulls him off their self-designated dance floor.
“What’s up, man?” Kirishima runs his hand across his forehead to wipe a thin sheen of sweat from his face. He’s a bit flushed from the dancing. “Having a good birthday so far?”
Katsuki’s arms are crossed and he’s looking down at Kirishima appraisingly. He ignores the question.
“Meet me in the bathroom in 5 minutes.” He says mysteriously, before turning and stalking away. Kirishima feels a burst of excitement in his belly as he watches his friend go. He has a feeling he knows where this is going. He swings by the bar and downs a quick glass of water before making his way to the restrooms. The girls try to beckon him back to the dance floor and he waves them off with a laugh.
“I’ll be right back – gotta take a leak!” The lie comes to his lips smooth as molasses. He’s pulled this disappearing act before.
He slips into one of the unisex bathroom stalls, flipping the lock so that the outter knob reads “occupied.” He barely has a second to breathe before Katsuki has him pressed against the wall and at his mercy. Eijiro groans appreciatively as he feels the full weight of his friend’s body press against his chest. Bakugo’s hands are all over him – on his chest, at his throat, inching up his shirt.
“This damn outfit.” Katsuki mutters gruffly in his ear before smashing their lips together. The kiss is both searing and demanding. Kirishima leans into Katsuki’s hot mouth, desperate to savor every moment their lips are connected.
This is something they do every once in a while – when they’re both buzzed and horny and single. They make out in bathroom stalls and dark alleyways. They press their bodies together until their limbs become so tangled up it’s impossible to tell where one person begins and the other ends.
And then…they never discuss it.
Eijiro’s breath hitches in his throat. “You…you like it?” he stutters out as Katsuki kisses down the sensitive skin of his throat, pulling Eijiro’s undershirt collar aside for better access. He receives a low growl in response.
“Your ass in these pants…” Katsuki’s hands wander down to the swell of Kirishima’s ass and squeeze. Eijiro yelps in surprise, and feels Katsuki smile into the curve of his shoulder. “Is that my birthday present?”
Kirishima feels himself flush at the praise. The new outfit has him feeling bold – “Actually I’d like to give you your birthday present somewhere more private.”
Katsuki doesn’t seem to hear him, as he’s preoccupied licking a hot stripe down his best friend’s collarbone. His hand has slipped into Kirishima’s back pocket for a better grip on the sturdy hero’s ass. Eijro’s legs feel like jelly, and he activates his quirk – hardening his shins and thighs to keep himself standing upright.
“Mmm…love it when you use your quirk.” Katsuki whispers hoarsely.
Eijiro feels his pants tighten. He wraps his arms around Katsuki’s neck and stuffs his fingers into his friend’s thick blonde hair. Katsuki lets out a soft sigh at the contact and bites lightly into the soft flesh of Eijiro’s shoulder.
“Listen, come back to my place. It’s right around the block.” Eijiro whispers, pushing lightly on Katsuki’s head, encouraging him to continue nipping a his sensitive skin.
At his words Katsuki breaks away from him, looking uncertain. They have never touched each other like this at either of their apartments, in either of their beds. They hang out often enough – meeting up for weekly gaming sessions with the other guys or grabbing takeout together while streaming an action movie. Katsuki is a constant presence at Eijiro’s apartment. And yet – the two had been careful to never cross any lines in their living spaces. Kissing at Kirishima’s place would carry an implication – the hookup would have to actually mean something.
Kirishima holds his breath for a moment, waiting for Katsuki’s answer. The explosion hero looks thoughtfully at Kirishima’s face, and then at his lips.
“Yeah…okay.”
Kirishima lets himself break into a grin. “Okay!”
He pulls himself away from Katsuki to take a quick look at himself in the bathroom mirror. He smooths the creases out of his shirt and makes himself presentable before unlocking the door and stepping back out into the social scene.
Out around the bar, the birthday party has clearly devolved – everyone is tipsy and buzzed. Their friends are laughing and chatting, all in various states of inebriation. The difference in how Class 1A handles their alcohol as staggering - Todoroki looks like he is falling asleep in his chair at the bar, meanwhile Ida has taken over the dance floor and is executing quick, sharp dance steps alongside Ochaco. Denki and Izuku are giggling over their latest round of beer, as Mina flirts shamelessly with their favorite bar tender.
“Birthday boy leaving already?” Denki calls out, drunk off his ass. “I didn’t get to give you a round of birthday shocks yet!”
“Katsuki’s pretty wasted!” Kirishima calls over lightly. “He’s gonna sleep it off on my couch.”
Katsuki looks pissed at the implication that he’d let himself get wasted this early in the night, but the excuse is undeniably a good one. He pretends to stumble and Kirishima catches him easily, wrapping an arm around the taller man’s waist. He feels a jolt of electricity run through him at the intimate touch. F
rom across the bar, Mina gives Eijiro a knowing look and he feels his face heat up in response. She’s the only person who Eijiro has ever confided in about his clandestine make out sessions with Katsuki. She smiles slyly and points to her phone, a clear request to be texted updates later.
Denki and the rest of the group wave hazily as they leave, a broken chorus of “Happy Birthdays!” ringing out into the night as the pair stumbles out the door and into the street.
“Our friends are so great, aren’t they?” Kirishima smiles as Bakugo lets his weight sag against him. They walk slowly on the cobblestones towards Kirishima’s apartment building.
Katsuki, in a rare moment of softness, looks up into the flickering streetlights and murmurs “yeah, they really are pretty great.”
Eijiro smiles widely as he looks down at his best friend. Katsuki’s grip around his shoulders tightens for a moment. It’s the most intimate they’ve ever been out in the open before. Eijiro knows that to any passersby they look like two good friends walking home after a night out. But if their friends from Class 1A were to see them like this…would they know?
It doesn’t take a special quirk to notice the way that Eijiro’s face flushes when Katsuki brushes his fingertips along Eijiro’s pulse point. It doesn’t take a master of stealth to figure out why the two are constantly disappearing together during late nights on the town.
Eijiro is pulled from his thoughts as they arrive at his apartment building. Katsuki detaches from him and the sturdy hero finds himself shivering with the sudden loss of his friend’s body heat. He reaches into his pocket and fumbles with his keys, nervously jamming them into the door’s lock.
“Eh? Is that what I think it is?” Katsuki peers curiously over Eijiro’s shoulder as the sturdy hero clumsily unlocks the door. Dangling from his silver key is an officially licensed Dynamight enamel keychain shaped like a grenade.
“Oh, yeah…” Eijiro says sheepishly. “Your assistant always sends me and the guys the first versions of your merch before it hits the market. I thought this design was pretty sweet – sorry if that’s lame.”
Katsuki smirks and reaches into his pocket to pull out his own keys. He holds them up for Eijiro to see – dangling from Katsuki’s own cluster of keys is a rubber keychain of a red stylized “RR” logo.
“Funny – your agency sent me a sick Red Riot crewneck last week along with this. I’m not usually one to rep hero merch, but sometimes I’ll make an exception.”
Eijiro’s heart ricochets around his chest. He takes a steadying breath before jokingly saying “I didn’t realize you were such a big Red Riot fan.”
“Of course I am, idiot.” Katsuki avoids his gaze and moves to push the door open since Eijiro has frozen in the doorway. “You’re my favorite hero. After All Might, of course. And maybe also after Best Jeanist if I’m feeling sappy.”
Katsuki leads the way to Eijiro’s second floor apartment, taking the stairs two at a time and keeping his face hidden from his friend’s view. Eijiro wonders if Katsuki is blushing as furiously as he is. You’re my favorite hero. Goddamn Eijiro’s never been so simultaneously turned on and lovesick in his life.
At the top of the stairs, Katsuki easily opens the door to Eijiro’s modest one bedroom apartment. Eijiro knows he’s an absolute idiot for never locking his door, but at this point he’s too turned on to care. He follows Katsuki into his comfortable living space. A charcoal colored sectional dominates the center of the room, dividing up the living room and kitchen areas. A large television is mounted across from the couch with an array of gaming devices stacked neatly in the shelving unit beside it.
Eijiro is particularly proud of his kitchen – a clean area defined by white subway tile and jet black appliances. A slick dark Kitchen Aid mixer sits at the ready on the sparkling counter. A collection of mismatched barstools sit beneath a stretch of countertop. A framed poster of Crimson Riot hangs above a cheap bar cart in the corner. Home, sweet home.
“I’ve always liked that you have the money to own this whole building, but you still rent this crappy place.” Katsuki smiles over his shoulder at Eijiro.
“Hey, hey – it’s not crappy. It’s well loved!” Eijro makes a face at his friend, but then notices the paint that’s chipping around the kitchen window. “Okay…admittedly it could use a fresh coat of paint. But being a Pro Hero doesn’t exactly leave time for me to work on home improvement!”
“Your place is great, Eij.” Katsuki says, moving to cup Eijiro’s face in his strong hands. “It’s perfectly you.”
Their lips connect, and Eijiro swears he can see stars at the contact. He’s almost giddy with delight – they’ve never been intimate in complete privacy like this before. All of those stolen kisses in bathroom stalls have been uncomfortably public and quick. Now, they can take their sweet time with each other. Katsuki kisses him slow and deep, as if he’s realizing the same thing. Eijiro realizes with a start that they’ve never kissed somewhere so quiet, either.
They stand like that for a while, just kissing in Eijiro’s homey living room. Katsuki pushes his fingers through Eijiro’s bright red hair before brushing his fingertips along the base of the sturdy hero’s scalp. Eijiro smiles into the kiss - it feels like heaven to be touched so tenderly.
Eijiro moves his hands to rest on Katsuki’s chest, feeling his friend’s rapid heart beat. He breaks away from the kiss and dips so that he can kiss along the tendons of Katsuki’s neck. The explosion hero sighs and seems to revel in the attention Eijiro is giving his sensitive skin.
“Maybe we should…uh…take this to the bedroom?” He grunts out as Eijiro nips at his earlobe.
“Yes.” Is all Eijiro has time to say before Katsuki grabs his hand and drags him across the apartment and through the threshold of Eijiro’s bedroom.
Eijiro’s room is a safe haven from the world of Pro Heroes and villains. The walls are a warm cream color and the décor is simple. It doesn’t fit at all with the punk aesthetic of the civilian clothes that are safely tucked away in his closet. There’s a small desk in the corner that houses his sleek laptop and the personal journals that he uses for therapy. Over the desk hangs a bulletin board filled with postcards and letters from friends and special fans.
A few framed pictures hang on the walls showing scenes from Eijiro’s life and childhood. Several hold beloved photos of his UA friends and mentors. One particular picture catches Katsuki’s eye – it depicts the two of them as first year students. They are wearing early versions of their hero costumes and look so incredibly young. Their arms are wrapped around each other and Katsuki has a fierce expression on his youthful face. Young Eijiro is displaying his trademark shark toothed grin. They look fresh and unburdened, two kids on the precipice of manhood. Two children about to be used as soldiers in an ugly war. Katsuki shakes his head to clear it of shadowy thoughts.
Most of the room is taken up by a plush king sized bed that’s across from Eijiro’s closet. It’s stacked with pillows and sports a dark navy duvet. A large IKEA Blåhaj shark plush rests upon the soft duvet.
The space looks like a standard bedroom for a man in his mid-twenties. It’s sparse but clean. Aside from a few letters tacked to Eijiro’s bulletin board, the room holds no evidence of his Pro Hero career.
Katsuki flops down on the comfy bed like he owns the place and grins up at Eijiro. He pats the space next to him as an invitation. Eijiro smiles and places a hand on Katsuki’s chest, pushing him onto his back. He climbs on top of the explosion hero and resumes kissing down his neck.
“Doing this on a bed is a nice change.” Eijiro exhales, his breath ruffling the hair at the nape of Katsuki’s neck. Katsuki hums in agreement before rapping his arms around his friend and rolling them over. Eijiro’s eyes widen in surprise as he finds himself pinned down by Katsuki’s muscular frame.
Katsuki leans down and kisses up Eijiro’s strong jawline before recapturing his lips. It’s not long before he’s deepening the kiss, adding his tongue into the mix so he can get a taste of Japan’s sturdiest hero. Eijiro melts at the contact, letting his own tongue tangle with Katsuki’s.
“I’ve wanted you like this for so long.” Katsuki breathes as he breaks the passionate kiss. He looks down at Eijiro with a hungry look in his eyes. “Look at you…all mine.”
Fuck.
The piercing look in Katsuki’s ruby eyes is just too much. Eijiro is so turned on he can’t help himself - he rolls his hips and grinds against Katsuki and their hard dicks collide in the most delicious way. Eijiro’s never felt anything quite like it and he finds himself moaning softly at the contact. Katsuki responds with a thrust of his own, shifting slightly for a better angle. For a few minutes they just kiss and grind against each other. It’s like they’re teenagers again- all awkward lust and experimentation. Katsuki wants nothing more than to rip off Eijiro’s clothes right then and there.
Soon, both men’s breathing has grown ragged and Eijiro thinks that if they keep going on like this he may very well cum in his pants. He puts his hand back on Katsuki’s chest and lightly pushes against him to signal that he needs a break.
This is completely unknown territory for both of them, after all.
They’ve both been with girls in the past – hookups and girlfriends and one-night stands that have taught them the basics of pleasure and sex. But neither of them has ever slept with another man – and the thought of touching each other intimately is almost terrifying now that they are about to do it.
Katsuki sits back and takes a deep breath. “Let’s take a break for a sec.” He says, his voice husky as he shifts to adjust his hard cock in his pants.
“Are you nervous, too?” Eijiro asks him with wide eyes, unsure of what else to say.
“Of course I’m fucking nervous.” Katsuki says harshly, causing Eijiro to wince. “Sorry – sorry.” Katsuki amends, reaching forward to place a hand on Eijiro’s shoulder. “I’ve wanted to do this for a while. With you. But I’ve never fucked another guy, let alone one of my best friends. I don’t want to make things weird between us.” He says gruffly, his voice sincere despite the intense look on his face.
“Listen, man. It feels like we’ve been into each other for a while, so I don’t think that acting on our feelings is gonna change much. I’ve always liked you because you’re…well…you.” Eijiro reaches out to place his large hand over Katsuki’s. “I know you don’t like any of this mushy stuff, but I think we need to get it out into the open before all of the physical stuff. Clear the air.”
Katsuki groans in frustration, as if this conversation is physically challenging for him. And maybe it is.
“Ugh, fine.” He grunts out, turning over his hand so he can interlace his fingers with Eijiro’s. “I think you know how I feel. But if you need me to say it out loud, I’ll say it dammit.”
In the pregnant pause that follows, Eijiro realizes that he’s been holding his breath. He looks down at their intertwined hands and exhales softly. He’s waited so long for this moment, for these words.
“I’ve liked you as more than a friend for years.” Katsuki’s face softens, losing its typical tough mean mug. His expression is gentle, almost loving. Eijiro has only seen this look once or twice on his friends’ face, and his heart squeezes deliciously when Katsuki’s eyes dart up to meet his own. The look that passes between them is so sincere; it makes Eijiro’s head foggy.
“I don’t think I really understood my feelings fully until last year. That night at the bar when we first kissed…I was drunk and all I wanted to do was feel you against me, to feel your touch. When I woke up the next morning and remembered the way that we’d kissed in the bar bathroom… Eijiro I was a fuckin’ mess. I thought I’d ruined everything between us. But also…I didn’t care. I just wanted to kiss you again.”
Katsuki pauses to catch his breath. His face is flushed a deep, deep red and he looks embarrassed as all hell. But then he sticks out his chin defiantly and says “I kept trying to date girls and move on, but I always kept coming back to those feelings. I kept coming back to you. For months and months we pretended everything was fine. We’d get meals together, team up at work, go out with our friends…but any time we got a little alcohol in us it was game over. Every time we’re drunk, we can’t keep our damn hands off each other.”
“I’ve had a massive goddamn crush on your shitty ass this whole time. You’re my best friend. You know me better than anyone on this fuckin’ planet. You’re the first person I go to when I can’t get out of my own head. You’re one of the only people who understands what I went through in that shit war when we were kids. And on top of all of that…” Katsuki’s mouth quirks into an unexpected grin. “On top of all that, you’re hot as all hell. Dammit, just look at you.” Katsuki gestures at Eijiro vaguely with his free hand. “Sometimes it pisses me off how fuckin’ attractive you are with that shitty hair and your stupid piercings. Your stupid punk outfits.” Katsuki blushes impossibly deeper. “Eijiro shut me the fuck up I’m just embarrassing myself over here – “
Eijiro cuts him off with a kiss so deep it leaves them both breathless. He grabs Katsuki’s face and moves to straddle the blonde’s lap. Between breathless kisses he manages to say “That’s Exactly.” A kiss. “How I Feel.” Another kiss. “Katsuki.” The name comes out of Eijiro’s mouth as more of a moan than anything.
Katsuki grins as he moves to kiss down Eijiro’s neck. He revels in the way he can make the sturdy hero moan so easily, so freely.
“I’m fuckin’ done talking.” Katsuki says as he runs his hands across Eijiro’s toned chest. “Lose the shirt, idiot.”
Eijiro doesn’t need to be asked twice. He pulls off his navy button down and the white undershirt along with it. Suddenly, he’s bare chested and a little self conscious as Katsuki takes him in.
“Fuckin’ gorgeous.” Katsuki mutters as he kisses down the hard slope of his best friend’s chest. Kirishima’s never been one for nipple play – that is, until Katsuki runs his tongue in lazy circles around his chest.
“Shit!” Eijiro cries out in surprise at the sparkling sensation that shoots straight to his groin. “Y-you can keep doing that.”
“Oh, can I?” Katsuki says teasingly. He’s got a classic Bakugo shit-eating grin on his face as he lowers his mouth to Eijiro’s left nipple. He takes his time to suckle the hard nub before releasing it with a small pop! Kirishima whimpers in response.
Katsuki continues to lick and suck his way across Eijiro’s broad chest, his calloused fingers reaching up to run across the red head’s smooth jawline.
“You should take off your shirt, too.” Eijiro finally manages to squeak out in a much less-than-manly voice than he’d like.
Katsuki looks up at him with hazy eyes. “Yeah, okay.”
The explosion hero leans back and carefully strips off his charcoal colored polo. He tosses the shirt to the floor unceremoniously and allows Eijiro a moment to appreciate the hard, rippling muscle that’s left in its wake. An angry red scar winds across his left shoulder and down his chest. Eijiro traces the path of the scar reverently with his fingertips.
“Did it hurt?” He breathes out, letting his fingers wander across Katsuki’s healed flesh. “Is this one from the war?”
Katsuki lets out a deep breath as his friend traces a light fingertip across the ragged flesh. “Yeah.” He says softly. “It hurt like a bitch. And it’s ugly as all hell. But, hey, I’m still here.”
“Yeah.” Kirishima leans forward to kiss along the rough skin. Katsuki shivers in response, no one’s ever touched his scars like this. Kirishima’s lips brush across the scar tissue so lovingly, so reverently, that it makes something in Katsuki shatter inside like a dropped dinner plate.
“You’re still here.” Kirishima says under his breath, moving to capture Katsuki’s soft lips. The two kiss more slowly now, more deliberately. Bringing up the war has brought a strange kind of stillness to them both. They know how close they each came to dying, how precious these quiet moments are in the grand scheme of things.
Kirishima has never seen his friend so tender. It’s strange, he thinks, that this is the manliest Bakugo has ever looked to him. His features are so soft and open – it’s as if his typical scowl has been wiped clean off of his face, leaving nothing but sweetness. Kirishima knows that true manliness – true chivalry – can only come about when one is completely open about whom they are. In this moment, he feels that he’s finally seeing Katsuki for all that he is, and all that he can be.
Katsuki moves his fingers to Eijiro’s hair, softly combing through it in a way that is so loving it makes Eijiro want to die. The sturdy hero leans into the touch and finds he almost keens with pleasure at the way Katsuki smooths a thumb behind his ears. Katsuki moves to leave a wet trail of kisses down the sturdy hero’s neck.
“You’re so goddamn cute.” Katsuki breathes as he surfaces for air. “Fuck how have we not done this sooner?” He slowly fans out his fingers on Kirishima’s exposed abs. Kirishima laughs as Katsuki’s fingers hit a ticklish spot on his stomach.
Katsuki continues to kiss his way up Eijiro’s neck while moving his fingers further down the sturdy hero’s stomach. “God I’m so turned on right now.” Katsuki whispers. His hot, wet breath in Eijiro’s ear causes the red head to shiver. He feels Katsuki’s fingertips tracing lower and lower on his belly.
Katsuki ghosts his hand over Eijiro’s waistband and spreads his fingers wide over his friend’s crotch. He feels the hardness under the fabric of Eijiro’s pants and his hand jumps back, recoiling from the feel of his best friend’s hard cock. They both scramble away from each other awkwardly, both wide-eyed.
Eijiro feels as if he has been doused with a bucket of cold water. He realizes with a shock the magnitude of what they are about to do with each other. Kissing is one thing…but actual sex is a whole other playing field altogether.
“Eij…” Katsuki starts tentatively. “I didn’t mean to, like, withdraw like that. I just don’t know what to do.”
Eijiro nods, grateful to be blessed with another rare moment of vulnerability from Katsuki.
“I know, dude.” Eijiro consoles. “I always had a vision of how this could go down in my head. But being here with you right now…there’s nothing that could have prepared me for this.”
Katsuki lets out a shaky breath. “Yeah, that’s exactly it. So what’s our next step?”
“You’re usually such a know-it-all, Kats.” Eijiro teases, moving to get closer to his friend again. “I thought you were the big bad leader of our group.”
Katsuki scowls at him, but reaches out to wrap an arm around Eijiro’s shoulder all the same. He draws the red head to his chest fiercely. “Yeah, well, it takes time and experience to become a gay sex god, doesn’t it?”
This sets Eijiro off in a fit of giggles. He leans into Katsuki’s bare chest as he laughs, taking in the warm cedar scent of his friend’s body.
They sit like that for a minute – wrapped up in each other and grinning at Katsuki’s stupid posturing.
“Listen, man.” Eijiro says after a moment of comfortable silence. “We can just stop here if you want. Whatever makes you most comfortable.”
Katsuki’s not having any of Kirishima’s gentle and generous platitudes.
“I don’t wanna stop until I make you motherfucking cum, shitty hair.” He huffs, the old Bakugo fire flaring up. Eijiro’s heart does a somersault.
“You wanna…make me cum?” He says in a quiet voice.
“Of course I fuckin’ do! I thought we got all of the sappy shit out of the way already. Why else would I be sitting here with you half naked? You idiot. I’ve been jerking off to the thought of you cumming for literal months.” Katsuki squeezes his friend’s bare shoulder.
They sit in silence for a moment, processing all that Katsuki has just confessed. A blush blooms brightly across the explosion hero’s cheeks and he moves to wipe his sweaty hands on his pants. Eijiro’s nose picks up the strong sent of caramel.
Katsuki is notoriously self-conscious about his sweaty palms – his quirk causes him to produce flammable nitroglycerin-like substance in his sweat that has a very distinct scent. The Explosion Hero developed a nasty OCD habit a few years ago that caused him to repetitively wipe off his palms when stressed. After months of Katsuki being frustrated while trying to get rid of the tic on his own, Eijiro had contacted an old friend from the support course to help out. Hatsume had been thrilled to take on the project, and worked to develop a special pair of non-flammable gloves for Katsuki that would absorb his sweat without issue. Katsuki had pretended to hate the gloves, but they gave him a sense of security and safety that he had been missing when in his civilian clothes. The war had fucked everyone up, and the gloves had been a tool in helping Katsuki process his posttraumatic stress disorder and OCD alongside a trusted therapist.
But here, in Eijiro’s bed, Katsuki’s hands are bare and the Pro Hero is clearly stress sweating all over his clean cut pants. Eijiro knows Katsuki well enough to recognize the beginning of a panic attack when he sees one. He gets up and crosses to the other side of his room, sliding open a dresser drawer and retrieving a washcloth-sized swatch of fabric. He returns to his bed where Katsuki is rubbing his hands up and down his legs, still trying to erase any trace of sweat from his warm palms. Katsuki is absolutely locked in on the motion, staring down at his hands as he runs them across the thick fabric of his pants again and again.
Eijiro reaches out and places a hand on top of Katsuki’s to stop him from continuing the repetitive motion.
“Hey, Kats. It’s okay.” He wraps the small rectangle of fabric around his friend’s hands. Katsuki looks up at him, embarrassment ringing his eyes. He’s extremely self-conscious of his OCD repetitive motions, and Eijiro is one of the only people who know how bad his tics can be.
“This is a fabric sample that Hatsume sent over before she made your gloves. Look – it can absorb everything no problem. You’re okay.” Eijiro says softly, encouragingly. Katsuki sighs in relief as he sinks his hands into the fabric and lets it do its job. “Everything is okay. There’s nothing to be insecure about. I know you.”
Katsuki closes his eyes at the words, grateful. He takes a few calming breaths just like his therapist taught him to do all those years ago, back when he was trying to recover mentally from the war. He lets his breath out in a low hiss. Eijiro puts his hands on Katsuki’s arm to help ground him. They sit quietly for a few minutes. Eijiro eventually moves his hand to the small of Katsuki’s back, where he rubs soothing circles into his friend’s taught muscles. Katsuki continues to focus on his breath work, flowing through the beginning of the anxiety attack the best he can.
As Katsuki tries to re-center himself, Eijiro feels selfish for the way his brain repeats Katsuki’s words with relish - I’ve been jerking off to the thought of you cumming for literal months.” Eijiro has been doing the same for the better part of the year – getting off to hazy fantasies of a fucked out Katsuki. He tries to refocus himself so he can be helpful to his friend as they get through the anxiety attack at hand.
“Let me go get you a glass of water.” Eijiro says soothingly, rising to go to the kitchen. Katsuki nods thankfully as he continues to go through his breathing exercises, he’s finally starting to calm down.
Eijiro walks through his kitchen and grabs his biggest Owala water bottle and begins filling it with filtered ice water. Katsuki has a tendency towards getting dehydrated with his sweat-based quirk, so this isn’t the first time Eijiro has had to water his best friend. This also isn’t the first time he’s had to coach Katsuki through an anxiety episode.
Once the bottle is filled to the brim, he retreats back to his bedroom where Katsuki is sitting cross-legged and looking a hell of a lot better. He gratefully accepts the silver water bottle from Eijiro and starts gulping it down.
“Hey – slow sips! Slow sips!” Eijiro chides him, sitting down on the bed a few feet away from his friend. Katsuki scowls but obliges, taking gentler, measured sips until he’s drained half of the bottle.
“Better?” Eijiro asks, careful to give his friend some space.
“Yeah.” Katsuki breathes out slowly. “Thanks.”
“Always.” Eijiro smiles and grabs Katsuki a Red Riot branded coaster from his bedside table. Katsuki takes the coaster, smirking at the huge stylized “RR” that adorns the cardboard circle, and sets down the bottle on Eijiro’s bedside table. He then unwraps his hands from the square of special fabric so he can lay the rag to rest on the table as well.
“You always fuckin’ know how to handle my stupid ass.” Katsuki says weekly, all tough guy bravado long gone. In fact, Eijiro guesses he probably left the last of his faux-machismo at the bar alongside their friends.
“That’s what friends are for.” Eijiro says automatically. Katsuki reaches over and nervously covers Eijiro’s hand with his own. The sturdy hero can tell that his friend is still self-conscious about his sweaty palms, but is trying to move past his moment of anxiety.
“You and I – we’re more than friends, Eij. You know that.” Katsuki says softly. “Do you think we can keep going?”
“I don’t know if we should, Kats. This is a lot. It’s a big step. Maybe we need some time to breathe and regroup. We want whatever this is between us to be healthy.” Eijiro knows he’s sounding an overly cautious mother hen, but he can’t help himself. He doesn’t want to ruin their shot at being together.
Katsuki looks at Eijiro with sparkling eyes. “Yeah I get that. But I think I’m good now. I really want to see this through…to touch you.”
Eijiro nods. “Are you sure? If you just want to go to sleep, I can take the couch. We can try again when we’re both in a better headspace.”
“Dammit, I’ve waited literal years for this. For you. I’m not going to let some shitty PTSD from a shitty war ruin a perfect night.” Katsuki scowls.
“Alright. Then let’s keep going.” Eijiro smiles softly. “But if you need to take a break at anytime you let me know.”
“Ever the chivalrous hero.” Katsuki rolls his eyes, but Eijiro can see the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“That’s me.” Eijiro puffs out his chest and strikes a mock-heroic pose. “Why don’t we slow down a little and, like, cuddle?” His cheeks heat up at this suggestion. He feels like this is a perfectly reasonable thing to ask for, but he thinks Katsuki might think the idea is dumb.
“Yeah, let’s do that. Take it slow for a sec and ease back in.” Katsuki agrees. He scoots himself up the bed so that he can rest his head on Eijiro’s pillows. Once he situates himself comfortably, he opens his arms out to Eijiro expectantly. The gesture is so sweet and strangely innocent for Katsuki. It’s a testament to their closeness, as well as to the fact that Katsuki is still coming out of his PTSD anxiety attack headspace.
Eijiro crawls up the bed and settles himself down in Katsuki’s arms. He marvels at the way his best friend’s arms wrap so securely around him. He feels so safe, so relaxed in the embrace. They lay there for a moment, enjoying the warmth of each others’ bodies before Katsuki turns his head to capture Eijiro’s mouth in a tender kiss.
This kiss is different from the others – it’s soft and slow and Eijiro can feel himself absolutely melting into Katsuki’s muscular frame with each brush of their lips. Katsuki moves one of his hands to cradle the back of the sturdy hero’s head, binding them together. Eijiro shifts so that his hands are pressed against Katsuki’s strong chest. He’s falling so incredibly hard right now – he’s so stupidly in love with this man that he feels as if he’s drowning in fizzy, sparkling stars.
With time, the kisses become fiercer. They’re both guys with wild hormones, after all. It doesn’t take much for them to get back to a frenzied state of lust. Their hands roam each other’s bodies freely now, getting more and more comfortable with each caress. Katsuki boldly reaches between them and runs his hand along Eijiro’s clothed cock, causing the red head to moan softly with want. Eijiro’s strong hand finds the curve of Katsuki’s ass and squeezes. The explosion hero hisses at the contact, feeling his weighty dick twinge with need in his pants.
Katsuki pauses for a moment, hand still resting on Eijiro’s strained crotch. He seems hesitant, unsure of what his next move should be. It’s so unlike Katsuki that Eijiro takes notice.
The sturdy hero breaks their lips apart and places a soft kiss on his friend’s smooth cheek.
“I think I’ve got an idea that we can try to kind of take the edge off.”
He slides off the bed and moves to retrieve his laptop. He props it up at the edge of the bed and flips it open, typing in a website address at Katsuki watches on curiously. It only takes him a moment to work out what Eijiro is doing.
“You think watching porn is going to help?” Katsuki says skeptically, despite the excited throbbing that’s occurring in his boxers.
“I do.” Eijro says, queuing up the site’s most popular video of the day. An attractive heterosexual couple saunters on screen and begins to make out furiously. He gets up and walks to his nightstand, sliding open the drawer to reveal a fresh bottle of unscented lotion. He flops onto the bed next to Katsuki, and sits with his back against the headboard, legs strewn out in front of him. He pours a generous glob of lotion into one hand and holds the bottle out to Katsuki.
“We’re going to jerk off together like two normal guys and just see where things go from there.”
Katsuki tentatively reaches out a hand, palm facing up. Eijiro pours out another liberal portion of lotion. Katsuki accepts the lotion and hovers his hands uncertainly over his pants, looking to Eijiro for instruction.
Eijiro steels himself and gathers his nerve. This was his idea, after all. He takes a deep breath before shoving his pants and boxers down his muscular legs with one hand. He’s not particularly graceful as he shimmies out of the garment, but who gives a shit. He tosses his boxers to the ground and settles into a comfortable position. He looks down to see his thick cock standing at attention, flush against the hard planes of his Pro hero abs.
Katsuki looks on almost hungrily as Eijiro stares straight ahead his computer screen. The couple in the laptop screen are now stripping off each other’s clothes with abandon. The woman drops to her knees and begins to suck off her male counterpart. Eijiro feels his dick throb with need in response to the visual.
Nervously, he moves to grab his cock with his hand. Instant pleasure floods through his nervous system as he coats his dick in a thick layer of lotion and begins to jerk himself off. He throws his head back into the headboard of his bed and groans with satisfaction as he squeezes his fist lightly around the shaft of his hard member. He gets lost in the sensation for a moment before he remembers with horror that he has an audience.
With some trepidation, he peers over at Katsuki to see his friend working to remove his pants one leg at a time. Katsuki’s dick is so perfect that Eijiro’s mouth almost waters when he sees it – it’s flawlessly long and has some weight to it. The tip is flushed dark and leaking beads of pre-cum before Katsuki takes it in his hand and starts to slowly jerk himself off too.
They sit like that for a few minutes – watching the porno while slyly watching each other. With each passing moment, Katsuki becomes more vocal. He sighs, moans and groans along to the film as the porn star couple continues to get physical. He shyly glances over at Eijiro as he gets in a particularly good stroke, sighing as he does so.
It’s when Katsuki starts replacing his wordless moans with Eijiro’s name that things start to get particularly steamy.
“Eij…” Katsuki groans out as he fists his hard cock. The sturdy hero’s face flushness he turns to give Katsuki his full attention. They are sitting a foot apart on the bed – a distance that feels simultaneously both too far and too close. Eijiro decides to bravely close the gap, dropping his dick for a moment in order to scoot clumsily towards his friend.
“Kats…is it okay if I…?” Eijiro holds up his hand, motioning towards Katsuki’s crotch in an offering that needs no further elaboration.
Wordlessly, Katsuki nods and slides his hand down to his thigh. Their eyes remained locked as Eijiro reaches across to put his own hand on Katsuki’s throbbing cock. Electricity shoots through Katsuki’s body as Eijiro confidently flexes his fingers around his friend’s dick.
“Is this alright, man?” Eijiro whispers, his mouth barely moving as he stares at Katsuki’s toned, naked body in reverence. He revels in the way that every nerve in Bakugo’s body seems to be alive and ticking in response to Kirishima’s capable touch. There’s a small tremor running through the explosion hero’s legs. With relish, Eijiro realizes that Katsuki is desperately fighting his body’s natural instinct to thrust up into his fist.
“Yeah, whatever.” Katsuki says sarcastically, but his eyes are desperately begging Eijiro to keep going. Ever the people pleaser, Eijiro obliges. He slowly drags a fingertip up his friend’s lubed-up dick and watches as the member twitches in response. Katsuki blushes, almost ashamed of how turned on he is at the simple gesture. Eijiro smiles and a look passes over his face that’s almost wicked. The explosion hero almost shivers at the way his friend’s crimson eyes light up with mischief.
Eijiro continues to pump his dick and slowly gains a good rhythm. After a few minutes, Katsuki is absolutely blissed out. His eyes are half lidded as he watches his friend slowly work at his cock – each thrust pushing him closer to his limit. The sound of the porno has faded into the background; all Katsuki can hear is the gentle wet sound of Kirishima jerking him off.
“Faster.” The explosion hero mutters breathlessly, and Eijiro is more than happy to indulge him. “Ugh…” Katsuki’s moan is like a song Eijiro wants to hear on repeat. He continues to run his hand up and down his friend’s thick shaft, stopping every once and a while to concentrate on the head.
“If you keep going like that…I might…” Katsuki whispers, and Eijiro stops dead.
A beat. “Why’d ya stop?” Katsuki’s voice is almost a whine and Eijiro smiles.
“Because I want to use my mouth to make you cum.”
“Oh.” Katsuki’s mouth has gone dry. “Have you ever…?”
Eijiro’s cheeks heat up. “No, never with a guy.”
“Ok.” Katsuki isn’t really sure what to say aside from: “Neither have I.”
“Alright, we’ll be each other’s firsts then.” Eijiro says mock-enthusiastically, but he’s sweating. This is so goddamn nerve wracking! You’d think that being best friends for the better part of a decade would make this kind of thing easier.
Surprisingly, Katsuki is the one to break the tension. He’s sitting there – naked and handsome. He moves to pull himself up so that his back rests against the headboard of Kirishima’s large bed. His cock standing at attention, slick with the lotion and pre-cum. It’s practically begging for Eijiro to wrap his lips around it.
“Jeez, I wish there was some sort of fuckin’ manual for this. Something like “Blowjobs 101,” or “Fucking Your Best Friend: For Dummies.” Katsuki says, his mouth quirking up at the corner the way that Eijiro loves.
Eijiro chuckles. “Hmm or even: “How to Suck Your Best Friend’s Dick.” A comprehensive guide!”
“Now that is a title that would make me buy a book.” Katsuki lets out a laugh. His voice softens. “It’s just me, Eijiro. Just two buddies hanging out and fuckin’ around.”
Kirishima smiles and runs a hand through his dark red hair. He scoots up the bed towards Katsuki, his eyes laser-focused on his friend’s stiff cock. He feels his own dick twitch with need and tries to ignore how fucking turned on he is.
“Now get over here Eij.” Katsuki beckons him closer, reaching out to pull him in for a soft kiss before whispering with a wolfish grin: “It’s not gonna suck itself.”
For some reason, that turns on Eijiro even more. He reaches down and gives his dick a few satisfying pumps. “Shit, Kats.” He moans, and Katsuki just smiles at the way he’s tearing his friend apart with words alone.
“Fuckin’ get to it already.” Katsuki says almost lazily, seeing the way that Kirishima’s body responds to being bossed around. “I don’t have all day here.”
Eijiro doesn’t need telling twice. He slides down the bed and positions himself between Katsuki’s fuzzy blonde legs. From where he’s sitting up against the headboard, Katsuki surveys his friend with an intense look in his eyes.
Eijiro gulps and takes in the man before him – Katsuki is all hard muscle and angles. His chest is toned and bare, but a wispy golden happy trail runs from his bellybutton down to his groin. Katsuki has a surprisingly slim waist that tapers down into a muscled “V” shape. He’s well endowed – in Kirishima’s opinion; his dick is the perfect size. Kirishima slowly licks his lips as he reaches out to take Katsuki’s length in his hand once more.
Katsuki’s eyes slide closed with pleasure as Eijiro begins to pump his cock again. Before he has time to register what’s happening, Eijiro leans forward and rolls his tongue across the head of his penis. Katsuki’s thighs jump with the unexpected sensation.
“Oh!” He lets out a small noise of surprise, and Eijiro takes the response as encouragement. He runs his tongue in a circle around Katsuki’s tip, before sucking the entire head into his mouth experimentally.
Here’s the thing – Eijiro has been on the receiving end of a lot of blowjobs in his adult life. He tries to remember the tricks that his past partners have performed that made him moan the most. He recalls being most impressed by women’s ability to multitask while performing oral.
Okay, he thinks as he continues to suck on the head like a pacifier, I can do this!
As he continues to suck, he uses his right hand to jerk Katsuki off, while moving his left hand to lightly fondle his friend’s balls.
“Holy shit Eij…” Is all Katsuki can say before Eijiro moves to take another few inches of cock in his mouth. He slides his lips down Katsuki’s rigid shaft as he continues to pump. It takes a moment or two, but soon Eijiro has the perfect rhythm going –he’s moving his hand and mouth in tandem in a way that’s making Katsuki see stars.
Katsuki is in absolute heaven. The view of Kirishima going down on him is enough alone to get him off. Kirishima pulls his lips off of his friend’s cock with a resounding “pop!”
“How’s that, Kats? Everything okay?” It’s so damn chivalrous of Kirishima to check in with his partner, and Katsuki’s heart rate quickens in a way that he’d be embarrassed about if he weren’t so fucking horny.
“Yeah keep fuckin’ going.” Katsuki almost whines, lacing strong fingers into Kirishima’s hair and forcefully pushing him to get back to sucking.
Eijiro’s eyes glaze over a bit at the harsh gesture, indicating to Katsuki that he likes to be pushed around in bed. This isn’t surprising, given how much of a people pleaser Kirishima tends to be. Kirishima resumes the blowjob, sloppily licking and sucking his way down Katsuki’s penis. Experimentally, Katsuki gives his friends’ hair a little tug. Eijiro moans in response, the vibrations from his mouth rippling up and down Katsuki’s cock like a vibrator.
“Ya like hair pulling, then?” Katsuki doesn’t wait for an answer before yanking a fistful of Eijiro’s hair a bit harder. The resulting moan from his friend’s throat is all the answer he needs. “I didn’t realize you’d like it so rough. Just wait until I fuck ya, shitty hair.”
Eijiro feels his cock twitch almost painfully at that comment. He can’t even imagine how amazing it would feel to be fucked hard by his best friend.
After only a few minutes, Katsuki is barely hanging on. As it turns out, Kirishima is excellent at giving head. Eijiro is absolutely filthy in his blowjob execution – he’s hollowing out his cheeks and making sloppy slurping noises every chance he gets. Katsuki is so caught up in the whole thing that he almost forgets to breathe.
Eijiro pulls his mouth off of Katsuki’s cock with a wet pop! A small thread of drool clings to his lips as he lifts his pretty face up to look Katsuki dead in the eyes.
“Breathe, Kats. You’re wayyy too tense right now.” He smooths a hand comfortingly across Katsuki’s fuzzy thigh. Katsuki obeys and takes a deep breath, bringing himself back to Earth a bit.
“I just got lost in it for a sec.” He says, his eyes blown wide with desire. “I can’t fuckin’ get over you. You’ve never done this before and you’re already so fucking good at this.”
Eijiro smiles at the compliment, using the moment to sloooooowly stroke Katsuki’s dick as the explosion hero continues to catch his breath.
“Ahhh.” Katsuki doesn’t even try to hide his moan as Eijiro pumps his cock. They’ve made it this far – there’s nothing either of them has to hide anymore.
“I’m gonna finish you off now, babe.” Eijiro says nonchalantly before licking a stripe up Katsuki’s shaft. Katsuki’s dick noticeably pulses at the pet name. “Would you like that?”
“Whatever.” Katsuki pretends to mean mug and put on his usual gruff persona, but it’s impossible to hold onto his tough guy act when Kirishima is looking up at him so openly with those fiery crimson eyes. Katsuki cracks a smile at his friend. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”
Kirishima stops his ministrations and breaks into a grin. “I know, right?”
And suddenly, they’re both laughing. Deep belly laughs that carry through the apartment. Eijiro is climbing up Katsuki’s body and kissing him so, so sweetly. Their lips meet again and again and again until they’re grinning stupidly into each others mouths.
Then Kirishima’s pulling his friend off the bed and to his feet. He shoves Katsuki lightly, his palms hitting the explosion hero’s toned chest soundly as he pushes him against the wall.
“I want you to concentrate on me, babe.” Kirishima whispers as he drops to his knees and starts sucking Katsuki off again. He slurps greedily before smacking his lips together. “I want your eyes on me the whole time.” All Katsuki can do is nod “yes” as he winds his fingers through his friend’s hair and gives a light pull. Kirishima groans and takes Katsuki’s dick in his mouth again, resuming his haphazard blowjob. Katsuki tries his best to keep his eyes trained on his friend, but the pleasure is far too much. He lets his head fall back against the wall with a light “thud” as he moans with abandon.
“That’s it, Kats. Give it to me.” Eijiro is licking and sucking and reveling in the way he’s making Katsuki come undone. The blonde’s legs are shaking and he struggles to hold himself up as Eijiro eagerly pleasures him – bobbing up and down on Katsuki’s cock with frenetic energy. It’s so fucking good that Katsuki cries out when his pleasure hits its peak.
“Eij! Eij…I’m g-gonna…I’m gonna cum!” Katsuki waves his arms in an awkward, helpless motion before trying to push Eijiro off of his dick. He’s not sure what to do. Would it be weird to cum in his best friend’s mouth!? He hasn’t thought this through enough and now he’s trying to back away to pull himself free from Eijiro’s hot, wet mouth – only to realize his back is literally against a wall. Now Katsuki is squirming around awkwardly and Eijiro’s mouth drops in surprise. Right on queue, because as his dick flies out of Eijiro’s mouth, Katsuki cums vigorously - spattering the sturdy hero’s chest and chin with sticky liquid.
“Fuck!” Katsuki reaches down and strokes himself through his orgasm until his dick becomes too sensitive. Eijiro watches in awe as he notices the foreign feeling of hot cum rolling down his chest.
For a moment, the two stare at each other in disbelief of what they’ve just done. Both are absolutely stark naked and sweaty – Eijiro’s hair is sticking up in odd places from where Katsuki has pulled at it, and Katuski’s legs quiver with the aftershocks of his orgasm. Thick ropes of hot cum are sliding down Kirishima’s face and chest.
Breaking the tension, Kirishima grins and uses the back of his hand to wipe his face.
“Fuck, Kats.” He is all he can say as his friend struggles to catch his breath.
Katsuki is red in the face and dripping with sweat. Eijiro gets to his feet and grabs a towel out of one of his dresser drawers. He slowly wipes the hot planes of Katsuki’s muscles clean as the blonde looks on sheepishly.
“That was so fucking hot.” Eijiro says a moment later as he finishes cleaning Katsuki off. He tosses the towel at the hamper on the other side of the room and it disappears inside, nothing but net.
“I’m sorry man.” Is all Katsuki can manage to say, his face burning as he moves to cover his naked body.
“Sorry?” Eijiro frowns and joins him back on the bed. “How come?”
“I…I fuckin’ came all over you. I hope it wasn’t a gross feeling or anything…” Katsuki trails off, his fiery eyes filled with something akin to shame as he runs a hand through his sweaty hair.
“Listen, Katsuki…this is our first time doing something like this so it’s bound to feel weird. But what we just did – what just happened between us? That felt so natural. And honestly – I can’t wait to make you cum like that again. Next time you can even cum in my mouth.” He grins, revealing a row of sharp sharky teeth to his friend.
Katsuki’s eyes rake across his features, double-checking that he’s sincere. He takes a deep breath and lets his face relax into a sleepy smile. “Well thank God, because that was awesome.”
“Fuck yeah it was.” Eijiro nods enthusiastically, leaning in to kiss the side of Katsuki’s face sloppily. The explosion hero laughs at the contact and reaches out to hold the side of Eijiro’s face.
“You got any tips for me?” He asks cheekily as he sits up on the bed.
“Tips…?”
“For giving head.” Katsuki reaches out to wipe his hands again on the square of special cloth that can absorb his quirk. “Obviously I’m going to return the favor.”
Now its Eijiro’s turn to blush – he feels patches of red bloom across his cheeks.
“O-oh, I mean, ugh – you don’t have to!” His words come up in a jumbled rush, which makes Katsuki’s grin widen.
“Shut up, idiot.” Katsuki says affectionately as he pushes Eijiro onto his back. Eijiro doesn’t put up a flight. He lets himself fall easily into the sheets and sink into the plush mattress. Katsuki gently passes him a pillow and he gratefully accepts, using it to prop up his head and shoulders as Katsuki moves between his legs.
The explosion hero places a hand on each of Eijiro’s knees and moves upward so that he is slowly caressing his friend’s toned thighs. Eijiro looks up at his friend’s face, transfixed as he melts beneath the Pro Hero’s calloused touch.
So here’s the thing about Katsuki – he’s given a lot of head. Up until this moment, he had only gone down on women, but he’s hoping that some of the same basic moves apply to all. He gently traces a fingertip up the inside of Eijiro’s right thigh and around his crotch, teasing. He does this a few more times, focusing on the delicate skin of Kirishima’s inner thigh. He tries to identify potential weak points on his friend’s impossibly fit body. Spots that will make him come undone.
After a few gentle caresses, he finds one such area – Eijiro’s hips are sensitive. Katsuki feels a glow of satisfaction settle in his stomach as he traces a light fingertip across Eijiro’s right hip and watches his friend shiver. He leans down to kiss the area – applying soft lips to the thick cords of muscle he finds there. He experimentally sinks his teeth lightly into the flesh, eliciting a gasp from Eijiro. The red head watches as his best friend continues to bite and suck at the area until he leaves a sizeable trail of hickies across Eijiro’s fair skin.
“Kats…” Eijiro moans as Katsuki’s fingers trace across his chest, find their way down, down down….wrapping themselves slowly around his thick cock and giving a gentle tug. Eijiro moans loudly at the contact, a reedy sound that matches up exactly with Katsuki’s fantasies.
Katsuki comes back to Eijiro’s thighs and begins to trail light kisses up and down the area as he strokes his friend’s dick steadily. Eijiro is absolutely melting at the touch – he’s loving the feel of Katsuki’s battle-callused fist and the harsh way his friend is handling his manhood. When Katsuki’s tongue darts out and across the head of his dick, Eijiro hisses in surprise. Katsuki looks up at him with a searing gaze, his mouth set in a serious line. His eyes are clouded over with a lust that’s so deep and dark that it makes Eijiro’s heart splutter and spark. The visual of Katsuki kneeling over him is so incredibly hot that Eijiro almost cums on the spot.
Katsuki continues to pump at Eijiro’s cock, running his tongue along the tip as he does so. “I’m gonna take such good care of you Eijiro.” Katsuki breathes out, his voice the most tender Eijiro’s ever heard it. “I’m going to make you all mine.”
Eijiro’s heart backflips in his chest, his stomach is all butterflies. Every time he’s imagined being fucked by Katsuki, he’s pictured it rough and mean, hot and heavy. He has never imagined, never hoped that they could share a sensual moment as gentle as this. It reinforces all of the sweet words Katsuki has shared earlier – he wants Eijiro, has always wanted Eijiro. This isn’t just some passing hookup; this is a deep-rooted connection. Eijiro wants to just drown in all of his mushy, fluttering feelings. He’s feeling so comfortable, so loved up, that he does. He lets himself sink into a blissed-out state. He gives Katsuki his trust, complete control. And Katsuki happily accepts.
Katsuki moves so that he can kiss along Eijiro’s stomach. Each caress is deliberate, delicate. When Katsuki finally takes Eijiro in his mouth, it’s smooth and sweet. He slides his lips around Eijiro’s girth slowly, giving his friend time to adjust to the sensation inch by inch. Eijiro closes his eyes and lets Katsuki get to work.
The explosion hero experimentally swirls his tongue around Eijiro’s cock as he continues to take it in his mouth. After a few moments he bottoms out – careful to breathe through his nose as his friend’s length twitches in his mouth and throat. He takes things slowly so that he can minimize his chances of gagging. He tries to relax the muscles in his throat and use his hand at Eijiro’s base to compensate as he begins to bob up and down.
Eijiro is in absolute heaven and can barely last as Katsuki gets a good rhythm going. Of course Katsuki is going to be the fucking best at anything he tries. Eijiro feels his orgasm come on suddenly and roll through him. Shit! He frantically attempts to push Katsuki’s mouth off of his dick, but in classic Katsuki fashion, the explosion hero has to go the extra mile. He holds firmly onto Eijiro’s hips and continues to suck at an even pace.
Eijiro can’t help but let out a soft moan of satisfaction as he cums cleanly into Katsuki’s mouth. His hips roll and stutter as he rides out his high, Katsuki continuing to use his mouth to pull the orgasm out of him all the while.
Katsuki’s never given a blowjob, but he’s been on the receiving end of enough to know that it’s so goddamn fucking hot when the someone swallows. The foreign feeling of hot cum running down his throat causes him to gag for a moment of uncertainty – but remember Katsuki has been working his entire life to master and train his body. He’s able to quickly adjust to the new sensation and is soon swallowing greedily as Eijiro comes undone.
When Eijiro’s finally finished, Katsuki takes a moment to lick up Eijiro’s overly sensitive cock. The sturdy hero winces at the feeling of being over stimulated, and Katsuki grins wickedly. He uses his finger to tease lightly around Eijiro’s thick head, causing the red head to whimper.
Eijiro’s cheeks are flushed and burning hot. He desperately needs a drink of cool water – but in this moment all he can do is watch as his best friend continues to play with him. Katsuki tortures the hero for a few minutes more, waiting until Eijiro finally reaches out to move the explosion hero’s hand away. Katsuki gives in easily, pulling himself up so that he’s eye level with Eijiro.
“Hey.” He whispers, giving his friend a moment to catch his breath. Eijiro reaches out and wipes a drop of sticky fluid away from the corner of Katsuki’s mouth.
“Kats, that was…” Eijiro can’t come up with a word to describe the ecstasy of receiving head from Katsuki Bakugo.
“Yeah, I know.” Katsuki says smugly. He reaches out his arms and Eijiro folds into them easily, as if they’ve been doing this for years. For a moment, no words need to be shared. They bask in the feel of each other, each reveling in the fact that they finally pushed their relationship out of the goddamn “friend zone.”
They lay there for a while, tangled up in each other and staring at the ceiling. Eijiro looks absolutely blissed out, his red hair splayed out beneath his head like a fiery halo. Katsuki, however, is chewing on his lip nervously. Eijiro raises an eyebrow at Katsuki, openly questioning his lover’s anxious expression.
“So…what do we do now?” Katsuki asks his friend, turning so that their noses almost touch.
“Now – we shower.” Eijiro wrinkles his nose at the explosion hero. “You smell like sex, Kats.”
Katsuki pushes at Eijiro’s shoulder playfully. “You know that’s not what I mean.”
Eijiro turns over onto his back again, pulling Katsuki bodily towards him. They’re a sweaty, sticky mess all jumbled up together.
“I don’t really know what comes next.” Eijiro says to the ceiling, staring up as if his ceiling fan will be able to provide some guidance. “I can tell you that when I was younger I always fantasized about us going public together – being one of those Pro Hero couples on the magazines and in the news.” He smiles quietly to himself.
“It always seemed so lovely and glamorous the way that Pro couples take on the world together. But now that I’ve been a Pro for a while and I’ve seen how difficult it is to date in the spotlight…I would actually prefer us to stay out of the media. I know how you feel about gossip magazines and news outlets. And besides - I want for this to be ours, and ours alone.” He reaches out and blindly grabs Katsuki’s hand. “I think maybe we just keep things on the down low for a while, feel things out between us. Go on a few dates, maybe tell our friends. See what feels natural. And if someone leaks our relationship to the press – well we’d cross that bridge if we ever come to it.”
Katsuki takes this in for a moment, his brain sluggish and sleepy. “I’m gonna be honest…I think it’s gonna be fuckin’ hard not to show the whole world that you’re all mine.”
Eijiro smiles so widely at this statement that he feels his cheeks ache. His jaw throbs a bit as his muscles recover from giving Katsuki such an intense blow job. “I think you’ll manage.”
“You know I have a legendary short fuse.” Katsuki reaches up to wipe a bead of sweat off of his brow. “We go to so many press events and I always see girls hanging all over you – asking for your number, fawning over your muscles.” Katsuki shifts so he can look at his friend’s toned body appreciatively. “It’s been driving me nuts for years. But now that we’re actually together – if someone was all over you I think I’d punch their lights out.”
“Well you’re going to need to exercise some self control then.” Eijiro says flatly, moving towards Katsuki so he can boop his nose. “And besides, I’ve seen the way your sidekick is always making doe eyes at you. If we want to maintain some illusion of privacy, we’re both going to need to put up with some crap.”
Katsuki grumbles something unintelligible.
“Sorry – I didn’t hear that, man.” Eijiro teases. Katsuki lets out a small huff.
“I said…I’ll do anything to make this work. To make us work.”
“Same here.”
And after the wild night the pair have had together, that’s all that needs to be said.
They’re both exhausted and stinky and dehydrated. Eventually, Eijiro gets to his feat and reaches down to pull up Katsuki behind him. The explosion hero lets out a loud yawn and reaches over to check his phone. He squints as he scrolls through a wall of missed texts.
“Shit, Izuku is blowing up my phone. He said they are all going to Mina’s to continue the party.”
Eijiro peers over his shoulder and lets out a low laugh. “It’s already 1 AM!? Jeez, based on the spelling in these messages, Midoriya is drunkkkk.”
Katsuki reads aloud one of the text messages with a smirk as the pair makes their way into the kitchen. Eijiro puts on a pot of tea.
“Kacchannnnn r u feelin btr? Com prty @ Mnaaaaa.” Katsuki reads aloud with a smirk.
“You know, it’s funny.” Eijiro muses, running a hand through his bright hair. “I always thought you and Izuku had, like, a thing going on between the two of you.”
Katsuki looks at him thoughtfully for a moment, as if making a quick decision. He chooses his next words carefully. “I think that there was a time in our first year of where maybe I…ugh…wanted there to be something with Izuku. But I was so twisted up and full of resentment and fear and hormones. I didn’t fully understand what I was feeling and it made me so angry. Izuku and I never had a chance – we’re just friends now. And that feels right.”
Eijiro nods, knowing the two as well as he does, this explanation makes complete sense. The kettle starts to sing and he pours them each a steaming cup of tea.
“My weird fucked up relationship with Izuku is actually what made me realize that I’m attracted to guys.” Katsuki says thoughtfully, accepting a cup of tea with callused fingers. “You know I started to get a crush on you around our third year at UA.”
Eijiro marvels at how chatty an orgasm makes his friend-turned-lover. He notes this for the future.
The red headed Pro hero blows on his tea to cool it. He takes a snapshot of the scene in his minds eye for future dissection - they’re both stark naked in his tiny kitchen, discussing their intertwined fates. Katsuki’s bare ass is pressed up against the snack cupboard. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.” Katsuki grabs a clean Red Riot merch glass off the counter and fills it with tap water before chugging it back. “I caught a glimpse of your ass in the locker room and my whole body felt like it was on fire.”
Eijiro splutters into his tea laughing. “Really!? It was my ass that caught your eye?”
“Yeah your towel slipped and there it was. A perfect fuckin’ peach.” Katsuki barks out a laugh as well. “And obviously the fact that you were my first real friend played a role, too. You’ve always known me better than anybody.”
Eijiro is touched by these words. He wishes he could articulate just how much the blonde’s friendship has always meant to him. He recalls the moment that marked thr shift in his own feelings for Katsuki.
“I caught feelings for you wayyy back in our first year – remember how we saved you in Kamino Ward?” He takes a sip of his tea and sighs in contentment. “When you took my hand as we were flying through the air over All Might and those villain bastards…my heart just about exploded.”
“Huh.” Katsuki smirks. “How about that?”
They sip at their drinks for a while, enjoying each other’s company in silence.
“So should we go meet up with all the rest of them?” Eijiro asks. “I’m exhausted but I’m kind of riding a weird adrenaline high from everything that’s happened tonight.”
“Same here.” Katsuki holds up a hand and Eijiro notices with a start that he’s shaking.
The sturdy hero closes the distance between them so he can grab Katsuki’s hand. He massages lightly at the wrist where he knows Katsuki aches from his quirk. After a moment of light touches, he brings the back of Katsuki’s hand to his lips for a quick kiss.
“If we go, we’ll probably end up crashing at Mina’s place when we come down from the high. Plus, it’s so late.” Eijiro continues to massage up Katsuki’s arm, reaching all the muscles that bear the brunt of Katsuki’s explosive quirk.
“I think, maybe…” Katsuki sighs as Eijiro works at his overused muscles with sure fingers. “We stay in. Go shower, do some deep breathing and try to wind down. Keep tonight just for us.”
“That sounds perfect.” Eijiro flashes his signature sharp-toothed grin at his friend. “I’ll text Izuku back from your phone.” He releases Katsuki’s arm and reaches for the abandoned device. He channels his inner Katsuki as he replies with two simple words “Fuck off.” This makes Katsuki laugh and laugh. Izuku replies with a string of crying face emojis - which just seems to add to the hilarity.
They continue giggling as they share a shower – hot steam on sore muscles, shampooed fingers running through thick hair. When Katsuki switches off the faucet signaling the end of the shower, Eijiro pulls the blonde into his arms and rests his face in the hollow of Katsuki’s neck. His brain can only muster a few simple words, but they reverberate over and over in his head: mine, all mine.
They towel each other off and change into a few of Eijiro’s oversized band t-shirts. Eijiro forces another glass of water down Katsuki’s throat before they end up back in bed, wrapped up in each other. It feels so natural, so safe. Katsuki’s phone continues to buzz in the background, alight with messages from their friends.
They both ignore it.
Katsuki yawns and whispers in a gravely voice: “I’m glad you wore that goddamn outfit tonight.”
Eijiro tucks himself into Katsuki’s arms and sighs in contentment. He gazes around the room where he had painstakingly chosen his new look mere hours earlier. Said outfit is currently lying in a heap on the floor alongside Katsuki’s discarded clothing.
He feels himself starting to drift off to sleep as he says “Yeah, man. Me too.”
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Notes:
Ahhh I can't believe it's finally finished!! Thanks so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed this fluffy spicy mlm fic!!
Check out my Master List for more fun, flirty & dirty fics!
XOXO,
RedRiotUnbreakableHeart ❤️
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