#i like smut.

[mimisplayground]

size difference kink but in the “i grew up being made fun of for being chubby so now the idea of a giant of a man being able to toss me around and tower over me without making my weight a problem makes me really horny” way, you get what im saying?

[linalieana]

u know it's gon' be the slutiest, messiest, sloppiest, hard core sex when the post had sum hentaí banner n the pinkiest color

[cosmictheo]

𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘 | hwang in-ho

( gif credits to @lalaray )

—summary: for some reason, player 001 seems to like you a little too much, way more than you think. amongst the chaos after the mingle game, he gets closer to you. —pairing: hwang in-ho/young-il/player 001 x female!reader —word count: 4.5k —warnings: bro has a lot of names, +18, smut !!! (minors dni), most definitely ooc!in-ho, descriptions of the reader having female genitalia, some porn with some plot, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, slight voyeurism? (a guard outside the bathroom listening all the tea💀), sub in-ho!!!, obsessive, possessive behavior, mentions of stalking, slight manipulation, in-ho being a slut for the reader, they want each others bodies so bad, panic attack, blood, killing, yk usual squid game stuff.

writer’s note: english is not my mother tongue, so please forgive me if there is a grammatical error. hope you like it!

ᯓ✶ part one ── part two

The first thing you saw were Young-il's eyes, and then you sensed his hands resting on your shoulders, a subtle touch but one that struck your entire core, sending shivers up and down your spine, snapping you out of the trance of shock, drawing you back to reality and back to him.

“Hey, hey, shhh...” he spoke softly, leaning close to you, making all you focused on was him, his voice, his eyes, the way his lips uttered your name. Him, him, him...

“Young-il?” you breathed out, matching your respiration to his ever-calm one.

He nodded his head slightly, his fingers stroking your shoulders soothingly. “You're okay. You did so good. It's over now” his soft whispers felt like an anchor back to earth, anchors you were clinging to with all your might.

“I got you” he assured you, helping you to your feet again. It was only then that you noticed that you were still in the room set of the third game, there was only you and him left in the arena, and the multitude of bodies sprawled around the bloodstained floor, of course. Noticing your gaze drift to the dead people, his hand lifted to your chin, standing right in front of you to block your field of vision and reduce it to just him, his serene face and piercing eyes, “Just look at me, angel. Keep those pretty eyes on me, yeah?”

He delicately pleaded you, his thumb tracing patterns of grazing caresses on the skin of your chin, treating you as carefully as possible. 

And you complied, of course, succumbing to the gentle darkness contained within his eyes. Like a little lamb falling into the wolf's trap.

“There you are,” a little, honest smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

A couple of guards were standing near you, watching you in silence and strangely, allowing Young-il to comfort and help you during your panic attack. The first one you had since you had arrived in the horrifying place, you hadn't cracked once, holding a tough and fearless armor.

“You are safe with me. Nothing will happen to you,” his other hand moved down from your shoulder through your arm, igniting a warm flush on your skin under the passage of his palm, all the way down to encounter yours, his fingers intertwining between yours. “I'll make sure of that, okay?”

You merely manage a trembling nod, holding his gaze. His reassuring, gentle demeanor was all you needed at that moment, in that strange place, full of strangers, he seemed to be the only familiar sight to you, the light among all the ruthless darkness. And his face, exuding concern, completely captured your heart.

Young-il offered you that one protector figure you always needed, that someone to rely on and trust even in your darkest moments.

“Come with me, please” one of the guards, the one with a square outlined on his mask, interrupted your moment, stepping up beside you, his gun pointed at the ground and not at either of you, thank goodness. His voice held a diplomatic, yet polite tone, glancing at the two of you. Young-il glanced at him with a scowl on his face, not too happy that the guard had popped onto the scene, apparently, his gaze went ice cold in the span of a millisecond, “Sir, miss, you need to go back to the main room with the other players.”

“The lady needs to freshen up a bit, could I accompany her to the bathrooms?” Young-il asked— no, rather, he actually demanded of the armed guard, his demeanor shifting to an authoritative one, straightening up and looking at the masked man with imposing eyes.

The guard looked from Young-il to you and back to him, finally nodding his head just once after a few seconds of contemplation, looking at him too long, nearly as if he was considering Young-il's expression, “Of course. Come with me, please.”

You did not decide to comment on the strange behavior of the guard, even they had been acting like human beings, empathetic and considerate. You really couldn't think of anything much at all, all you could focus on was Young-il's hand placed on your lower back as you walked together through the winding, ridiculously colorful corridors and staircases inside the seemingly infinite building.

His touch had your mind a fuzzy blur and the panic and self-doubt in your veins had already been well forgotten, replaced by a state of constant flushing, feeling so small next to him. The feeling was a good one, though. Definitely.

Ever since you had met him he had seemed to have a special liking for you, always making sure you were safe and secure, putting you above the others, making you feel protected and seen. Before every game he made sure he stayed by your side, willing to take whatever risks were necessary for both of you to come out of it alive. Gi-hun had told you a couple of times that he liked you, much more than a friend, but you refused, huffing that it wasn't the place to think about that, much less regarding a man who was married, supposedly. The two of you had really bonded so well, as if you had somehow known each other for a very long time before this.

Once you were in the bathrooms, Young-il closed the door behind both of you, leaving the square guard just outside, and then guided you towards the sinks, opening one so you could take a sip of water.

“Let me...” he quietly whispered, rolling up the sleeves of his turquoise tracksuit and soaking his hands for a few seconds before raising them to your face, running his fingers gently across your cheekbones, removing traces of blood droplets that had been lucky enough to land on your skin, he thought to himself. For some reason, everything felt more intimate than it should have.

You stood in silence, watching him with big, attentive eyes as he wiped your face delicately, as if your skin were the finest porcelain. All that could be heard for a few moments was the water running from the sink and the thundering beat of your heart, desperate to flee out of your chest and leap into his.

“Young-il?”

“Hm?” he hummed, very much focused on cleaning your face, his countenance encouraged you to ask him anything you wanted, it was peaceful and gentle.

“Why do you care so much about me?” you dared to ask him, in a low tone, brave enough to hold his gaze, which softened at your question.

He held back his hands, pulling them away from your face very slowly, analyzing your flushed face for a few moments, contemplating an answer.

“You're special. Very different from the others.”

Young-il sympathized with you, with your history, your person. Usually when he looked at you, he saw his old self, from before all this. He saw in you the good side of things, your good heart, your innocence and kindness, you were much more than a pretty face. He could see past your usual gloomy and pouty face, past your sharp and too cunning eyes, you were too much for that place. And that's why he intended to take you out of there and keep you with him, to have you by his side to care for you and provide for you.

He was excited about the idea of getting to know you further, like a new game in which he had to crack his way through. And In-ho, he was good at games.

You blushed slightly, the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, “Special?”

Young-il spun around, allowing you to see his side profile as he washed his hands in the sink, concealing the impulse to smirk as he noticed the immediate effect his words had on you. He had you right where he wanted you. 

Now he wasn't wearing his usual dark mask, capable of covering his each and every emotion, no, now his expressions and gestures were for everyone to see, so he had to try a little harder than usual to be cautious. As you too were very careful and cautious, always attentive to your surroundings, you had figured out the objective of the last games as soon as you arrived at the arenas. It had been a record, no other player had been as interesting and quick-witted as you. You only needed a couple of minutes, a scan through the walls, the equipment brought by the guards, and you already had the answer. You were a prodigy. Not even he knew what you were doing in there to begin with, when you should have been in the best university.

You would definitely be a favorite of the filthy V.I.P.'s and that, for some reason, made him uneasy.

“Mhm...” he hummed once again, wetting his face now, refreshing himself as well, thoughtfully, “That makes you dangerous.”

His eyes held a slight playfulness as they met yours now, and his pupils expanded as he watched you step closer to him, unwrapping your sweatshirt from around your waist and lifting it up to his face, gently wiping and drying his skin with it, running the cloth carefully over his cheekbones, forehead and chin, drying every drop of water, sweat and blood that rolled across his skin.

“Why?” you tilted your head, big, interested eyes watching him intently as you carefully wiped his cheeks.

Young-il gazed at you for a few seconds, feeling himself swooning at the careful way you were treating him. He cleared his voice subtly before replying to you, in all honesty, “You're the only one I care about in here.”

Usually In-ho encountered with people who looked at him with fear, with trembling hands, hesitant voice and submissive manners. Most guards were like that with him, he was the Front Man after all. Just a movement of his fingers, a word emitted by his voice, was enough for the whole building to move at his command, for anyone to race to do what he ordered.

But you... you simply reached out to him, touched him, treated him with care, with gentleness and softness, looking at him with warm and sympathetic eyes.

“No other person makes me feel both weak and strong” he rasped out, quietly, his warm breath brushing against your lips, which gaped at his words, his choice of words, “That's dangerous for a man like me”

You motioned to pull your hand away from his face, but he was quick to grab your wrist, stopping the movement.

“Young-il, you're married, I can't—” you hurriedly opted to go the right way, trying to talk some sense into him, shaking your head softly, blinking several times within a single minute. Your heart was already starting to beat faster and he could feel it through his thumb placed on your pulse.

He shook his head, seeking your gaze, his fingers gently squeezing your wrist, not wanting you to move too far away from him.

“I'm not married. I lied” he revealed to you, almost desperately. There was no reason for him to lie to you on that, because he knew that you were someone he could trust, and that everything that was going to happen there, would remain within those walls. A little complicity. A minor crack in the script, in the whole scheme that he had been working on for weeks.

You let him grab your wrist and the jacket of the tracksuit you had previously held in your hand fell to the floor, making a muffled noise that echoed off the quiet walls of the bathrooms. Your brow furrowed slightly, not understanding what he was talking about now.

“You lied? Why?” you asked in a low tone, as if anyone could hear you. It seemed, at least it felt like too private and all too intimate a conversation for anyone to overhear.

“I didn't want to push you away and scare you with my... life resolutions” Young-il lowered your hand now joined with his, looking at you with brighter eyes than usual, “It was the wiser thing to do.”

“Resolutions?” all you appeared to be doing was asking and asking, and In-ho, right there and then, was willing to answer all you wanted to know. Your tone of voice drifted into playfulness, void of judgment or disgust, on the contrary, you reassured him, “All of us here have made bad choices in our lives, that's why we're here. We're all the villains of society”

“Villains...” he repeated, savoring the word and approving it with a gentle nod of his head. Then he tugged on your hand, lifting it to his face, placing an affectionate kiss on your knuckles, doing all of that while keeping eye contact, “But you're not bad, not like them, not like me. You're just so good, angel.” There was the petname again, and it held the exact same effect as when he first called you that, making you blush softly, your legs trembling just barely, your core reacting instantly, your body succumbing to his, longing for him.

His fingers caressed the palm of your hand tenderly, “You have no blood on your pretty hands, no perversity in your little head, no, you're a good girl. You always have been, right?”

He read you like an open book, even though you had been cautious and reserved since the games had begun, you had not let anyone in, much less pass over the walls you had built around yourself. Yet in the span of a few minutes, Young-il had ripped them apart, tearing his way through them, into you.

You caught a glimpse of pity in his eyes.

“You don't have a debt, you just don't have anyone out there waiting for you, to take care of you, provide for you” At his words, you gulped, watching him kiss your knuckles once again, making your heart race, then his lips kissed your pulse on your wrist, and after that, he tugged you closer, placing your palm against his chest, making you feel the beat of his heart as well, “I could be the one. I could take care of you, protect you, give you everything you want. There wouldn't be anything I wouldn't do for you and those eyes. You'd just have to stick by my side, look pretty for me, hm?”

In-ho had been watching you, of course, ever since you had met Gon Ji-cheol in the subway, ever since you had encountered Gi-hun. He knew your life completely, he had grown obsessed with you. You were everything he needed, everything he wanted, the missing piece in his new life. The anchor he desperately needed, yearned to hold on to.

And to your flesh he clung, his lips making a path of light, but tentative kisses on the back of your hand, across your skin, up your arm.

“Young-il...” you breathed out his name a bit stunned by the whole sudden confession. At the sound, he felt his limbs tremble, his lips had reached your bicep and it wasn't until he kissed your shoulder that he opened his eyes so he could look at you with raw adoration, his breath joining yours at the closeness.

“I'll get you out of here, safe and sound. I won't let them touch a hair on your head” he promised, reassuring you, pulling you in, inviting you to slip into his orbit, “I just need you to trust me”

Your eyelashes grazed your cheeks as you blinked slowly, your hand rising to his shoulder, thumb brushing his neck, “How will you do that?”

“Trust me” he pleaded, staring at you for a few seconds before leaning down into you, both of his hands landing on your waist, holding you against him, his face nestled into your neck, he began to press his lips into your skin, kissing it. You close your eyes in utter pleasure, feeling yourself getting all aroused, suffocated by all the attention, the sweet words, his desire for you. 

“Would you do that for me?” he rasped out against your skin before kissing it, sucking lightly, “...hm?”

You nodded, swallowing hard, his lips rapidly kissing your throat, and suddenly, everything was him, his mouth, his breath, his hands squeezing your waist. Him... 

You lifted your chin, allowing him more access to the soft flesh of your neck, seductive lips exploring every inch of your skin.

“Yes”

“That's my girl” he cooed with tenderness, kissing your neck one last time before pulling away from it so he could look at you, not even letting you breathe the air that had slipped out of your lungs for the entirety of his doing, before he was kissing your lips like a starving man.

He breathed against your lips in between frantic open-mouth kisses. He almost felt himself melt as his ears were blessed by the delightful little noises leaking out of your mouth, panting and low moans escalating up your throat.

“Young-il…” you whispered his name, your voice sheepishly lowering as you noticed the look in his eyes, your hands clasped around his neck, fingers trembling from the thrill and sudden shame that shook you.

“Jump” he said, his tone of voice heavy with command, his hands reaching around your waist and down onto your ass to lift you up effortlessly onto the side of the sinks, balancing himself tight against you in between your legs, which wrapped around his hips and pressed him further into you, under an instinctive impulse.

You panted against his lips as you felt his erection against the inside of your thigh, his body eagerly surrendering to yours in desperation.

His commanding voice and face were something that really turned you on even more, if that was even possible. It wasn't usual for him to be this stern with you, he was usually like that with the other players, with strangers, always cautious, quiet and tactful, meticulous of his every step and every word.

“W-wait— we're going to fuck in h-here?” you somehow managed to asked in between frantic, breathless kisses, barely opening your eyes, catching him with an expression of raw lust, pupils fully dilated now.

Young-il smirked playfully, allowing you to catch your breath for a moment, hands caressing your skin appreciatively beneath the fabric of your shirt, before dropping down and laying on either side of you against the sinks, veins bulging against his skin, “You want to do it in the other room? I don't mind having an audience.”

His little tease and the way he tilted his head made you blush furiously, fingers nuzzling the back of his neck, curling between locks of his hair.

“The guard will hear us...” you tried to talk some sense into him, whispering quietly to him, leaning your head even closer, as if you were little kids sharing a forbidden secret.

But Young-il stood his ground, kissing your lips shortly, to reassure you, noticing the worry in your big eyes, “Don't worry about him, don't worry about anyone,” his hand snaked between your bodies, spreading your legs a little further apart, “He won't hear a thing, they never hear or see anything. Not if they are ordered not to”

One of his hands reached up, stroking your hair soothingly, sensing the softness of your locks between his fingers. You were perfect, perfect. And he just knew he could lose all track of time, if it meant letting himself fall into you, touching you, feeling you, worshipping you.

"Lift your hips for me, yeah?”

Obedient, you lifted your hips just a little, letting him pull the hem of your tracksuit pants down your legs, taking it out of the way of obstructing his path into you.

“I know you want this as much as I do, you don't have to say it,” he cheekily smiled, looking up at you once he had lowered your pants down until they were at the level of your ankles. On his journey upwards, he kissed the side of your leg, your knees and your thighs without taking his eyes off yours, he was ruthless and you looked so pretty to him.

“Your body speaks to me, it has spoken to me since the first game. I've noticed the way you look at me. You are a naughty girl.”

You heaved a sigh, closing your eyes and pulling your head back as his hand dipped into the center in between your legs, feeling the wetness of your panties and the heat, your cunt pulsing around nothing. Your hands, now on either side of you clasped onto the ceramics of the sinks, your back arching beautifully.

You can't help the way your body trembles, flutters and simply submits when his finger rubs your swollen clit through your panties, feeling your face and your whole body flush, feeling a sudden wave of embarrassment at the magnitude of his words and the enormity of all that was happening.

“Look at you,” he cooed, eyes locked on your pussy once he had pulled down your panties with precise but desperate motions, ran his index and middle fingers through your slick folds, making you moan, “you're soaking wet for me, just for my kisses? Fuck, you are so beautiful. My pretty, dirty girl. Letting herself be touched by a stranger.... but then again, not a stranger at all, hm?” his voice almost sounded mocking when it reached your ears, “I need to taste you,” his gaze moved up to your face, and he looked nearly pleading, he licked his lips in anticipation, fingers sinking just barely into the small entrance of your core, “may I?”

“Please—” You at once nodded feverishly, almost whimpering over the words that rushed into your throat, “Yes! Please, Young-il, please—”

He dropped to his knees in front of you, slouching closer, sinking right between your legs, his hands lingered around your knees, squeezing them against him with a possessive hold.

“In-ho” he corrected you, flushed against the skin of your inner thigh, pressing kisses along it, all too drunk already by your intoxicating scent, his mind going fuzzy with desire, the urge to make you his, “Call me In-ho”

You didn't even pause to doubt what he was telling you, Hell, you'd call him God if he asked you to. You were in the palm of his hand, on full display. His lips kissed your sex and you mentally thanked fate for putting you there, with him.

“Say it” he ordered, just before he plunged his tongue deep between your folds, knocking all the little breath left in your lungs. “Say my name, angel” the vibration of his voice against the most sensitive flesh of your body clenched the knot deep in the bottom of your belly.

“In-ho” you named him between shaky whimpers and little moans, like a prayer. One of your hands dropped to his head, fingers sinking into the black of his hair, tugging it and making him hiss against your cunt. “In-ho...”

In-ho, In-ho, In-ho...

“Good girl”

God.

He ate your pussy like it was his very last meal, lapping and drinking in everything you had to offer, every bit of wetness from you. The slurping noise burst through every wall of the bathrooms and suddenly, you didn't give a shit if the guard outside heard you, you didn't give a shit if all the guards heard you. 

They could be right there watching you, you couldn't care less, it wouldn't change the way you tugged at his hair, how your eyes rolled back and the way he was gazing up at you from below, kneeling perfectly between your legs as if they were the gates to heaven.

His tongue seemed familiar, his fingers squeezing your thighs, his eyes locked with yours, his lips kissing your sex with no breath, all the breath he needed was you. He didn't feel like a stranger, your body acquainted him, perhaps in another life. It all felt like deja vu, a reminiscence.

Your muscles tensed and he felt it through his tongue. You were about to cum, and your throat felt scratchy from all the moans and whimpers rasping through it.

“Gonna cum, baby?” he coaxed, pulling away from your cunt for just a couple of seconds, sneaking a hand in and pressing just barely at your entrance with a couple of fingers, kissing your clit and sucking it just right, “Yes you are,” he grumbled endearingly, his tongue tracing caresses all around your clit now, looking up at you.

“You're so tight” he marveled, watching in awe as your cunt eagerly attempted to suck in his fingertips, clenching and struggling to fit them. “Look at her, so eager... such a good girl, aren't you?” Once again he leaned into your clit, kissing, sucking and caressing it with his tongue, already too pussy drunk to stop. “Cum for me. Cum on my tongue, yeah, just like that”

“Holy shit, In-ho—” you hiccupped, feeling tears blur your vision, a wave of pleasure unleashing from deep in your belly. You moaned his name like a prayer, pressing his head closer to your cunt on an instinctive impulse, “Mmph!”

Maybe it was seeing his chin and mouth all dripping wet of you, or his dark, deep eyes marveling at how your pussy squeezed tight around his fingers, or his other hand sliding up under your shirt, finding one of your breasts and flicking your nipple. Maybe it was all of it, either way, you were cumming like you had never cum before. Your whole body was shaking and succumbing to the overstimulation. Succumbing to him.

In-ho gulped down everything you gave him like magic waters.

“You taste better than I imagined,” he confided, licking his index and middle finger as well, catching every trace there was of you that he could possibly consume as if it were honey.

Then, he kissed your pussy once more before standing up, sending shockwaves of electricity through your whole body with his touch, his hands settled on your hips, holding you so you wouldn't fall.

And he just smirked. He moved closer to you and kissed your mouth, making you savor your own taste through him, his hands appreciatively caressing your thighs, swiftly pulling up your panties back on.

“You're perfect, perfect,” he smoothed against your lips, his forehead leaning close to yours and he kissed you again, praising you, holding you tight in the afterglow of your orgasm, “My girl, my favorite girl, so good for me"

“We need to get back before someone starts to get suspicious,” he mumbled softly, helping you to your feet and pulling up your pants, always holding you with his hands and strong arms.

“B-but,” you retorted, your hands gripping his shoulders, still feeling your legs a little wobbly and unsteady, your dilated pupils and half-closed eyes following him as he arranged you, “I want to-”

He interrupted you, grinning warmly, stroking a lock of your hair away from your forehead before kissing your lips once more, as if closing a deal, a promise, “There will be time. Be patient, princess. We don't want the others to find out about my favoritism, do we?” seeing you still looking a bit confused, and still denying with your head, In-ho smiled playfully, “That would be very unprofessional of me, so this will be our secret”

This time you kissed him, sealing the secret.

[onlinedolly]

nanami who secretly gets off to being so much older then you, his cock twitching whenever you remind him of the gap between your ages. he loved having you clinged around his arm in public, a subtle ego boost as he watched how people reacted. he pretended to be better then that, rolling his eyes everytime satoru said something crude. you were barely in university when he had gotten with you and didn’t like the way his cock stirred when gojo joked about ‘robbing the craddle.’ he just couldn’t help it, not when you were so young and pretty. not when you got so shy when he worked his cock into you, something an older more experienced woman would never do. the thought itself could make him cum, knowing you were innocent and shy and young.

nanami would just love his younger girlfriend so much 🤒

[hellishattempt]

nanami kento comes home on a saturday afternoon, hands full of groceries and hair freshly cut. in the distance, he hears his precious wife humming along to her favorite soundtrack. you must not have heard him come in. he smiles to himself, setting the groceries on the counter, but not unloading them. that can wait. right now, he wants to hold you.

he slips out of his shoes, padding quietly to the laundry room where you are folding towels. you have your back to him, headphones lodged in your ears. as nanami gets closer, the music bleeding from your headphones becomes audible. he chuckles softly. no matter how many times he tells you it's bad for your ears, you insist on listening to your music at just below full volume.

snaking his arms around your waist, you jump at the sudden contact. nanami presses his chest against your back as you take out your headphones, leaning into his touch. you sway in silence for a moment, nanami resting his chin on your shoulder. when you turn to face him, your expression changes at the sight of his hair.

"your hair," you state dumbly. "you cut it."

"yes," your husband muses. "is there something wrong with it?"

"no, no!" you assure nanami, studying his hair. "i just wasn't expecting it. you normally have me do it, which you know i don't mind doing."

"i know, but i didn't want to bother you on your cleaning day."

your expression softens at his words. nanami, your ever loving, ever caring husband, always thinking about you before himself. you reach one hand up, smoothing the hair down the back of his neck. as you bring your hand up, the freshly cut hair pricks your palm, and nanami lets out a low hiss.

you immediately apologize, pulling away. "did that hurt?"

"yes, but it's okay. it felt... good," nanami confessed. "... do it again. please." his voice is thick and demanding, and you obey without hesitation.

this time, you use just the tips of your fingertips to graze his undercut, beginning at the base of his neck. his breathing quickens as you continue to to run your hands through his undercut, going up and down, switching from one hand to both, thumbs caressing the sides of the cut. the laundry room fills with his melodic whimpers and faint groans. his eyes are shut tight, teeth digging into his bottom lip.

"fuck..." he cusses lowly.

"you okay, nani?" you giggle, stopping momentarily. his eyes flash open, pupils blown. "kento?"

"let's go to the bedroom," he insisted, grabbing your hand and dragging you towards the master bedroom. you barely have time react before nanami pushes you back on to the bed, practically ripping your leggings off.

"kento, what are you doin-" you try to protest, his hands clamping around your wrist and bringing them down to grip his hair. his head disappears between your leg, lips latching around your clit. involuntarily, your fingers tighten around his sharp undercut. he moans into your cunt, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through your body.

from then on, nanami kento always got an undercut.

[rissouu]

nerdy!choso who was sick of letting you walk around, doing whatever you pleased. the day you asked him to be your tutor was when his whole world flipped upside down. him? tutor the most popular girl in school??

it was okay at first, but somewhere along the line your saturday study sessions turned into saturday fuck sessions. you were his first and it didn’t surprise you much.. choso was the school’s number one nerd, and sure he was hot but no girl dared to associate with him, let alone fuck him.

but you were different in so many ways, you treated him like fragile glass that you knew better than to break. you liked to test him sometimes though, just to see if he’d drop the innocent boy act. usually your schemes never worked.. but this time? oh he’d had enough.

“this what you wanted fuckin’ stuck up brat?” choso chuckled darkly, anger radiating off him in waves. large hands struck down, bruising the skin of your ass for the 10th time.

he had you bent over his lap counting every spank and if you missed even a single one, he’d get a belt.

one look at him had your body quivering, his head was tilted and hair messy as his eyes pierced yours. “thought it was cute to stop sharing your location wimme’ huh mama?”

you shook your head which earned nothing but a chuckle from him. rough fingers danced around your clit, flicking it back and forth despite your overstimulation.

a sharp pain had you whimpering, it was only then you realized what was going on. choso sunk his teeth into your cheek with no intentions of stopping until the mark of his teeth was visible.

“how about i start spanking this pretty pussy next?” he smiled when you waved your ass around in anticipation, his greedy greedy girl. “nah.. think ‘m gonna fill her up instead. maybe then you’ll stop fuckin’ playing with me,”

no way this was your same nerdy!choso from before…

©rissouu 2024 (pls i need a choso in my life)..

[yuwuta]

you hook up with izuku drunkenly at someone’s birthday party and it’s not even that you regret it in the morning it’s just that your post nut clarity hits that you slept with the boy you’ve known since pre-k all because of a couple of drinks and when he wakes up you’re still freaking out and you make him pinky promise that this won’t mess with your friendship, “izuku do you hear me? we are NOT going to be that pair of sad best friends that fucks everything up just because of sex. sex is nothing. we’re never gonna do it again, so we’ll be fine right?” and the whole time he’s nodding along with wide, glassy eyes not listening to a goddamn thing you’re saying because he’s been in love with you since middle school, and last night you said you loved him, too. granted he was inside of you, and he said it first, but you said it back, and by that point it was well after one in the morning so the only thing you two were drunk on were each other. it’s probably why the very next day he is at your doorstep with a notebook in hand and a grin on his face that’s something right in between cocky and sweet when he says “i think we should sleep together again. and before you say no, i made a list about why 😁 number one: we’re really good at it. number two—”

[bi-writes]

ghost doesn't think he hears you correctly, not at first. there's a ringing that's still in his ears from the bullet he nearly ate earlier. (cw: dubcon, 18+)

"wot?"

"can you please please please--pretend to be my boyfriend--just for one minute--!"

"heyyy, sunshine," a nasty little voice sings. you spin around, cowering by the bar, just as someone a little too drunk and a little too big comes into your space. you scoot away from him, but he's coming closer, leaning over you, and ghost tilts his head to the side as he watches the way you flinch at the stink of his breath.

ghost fits into the space at your back quite easily. your back arches a little as his big hand finds the bend of your waist, and you squeak a little when he forces you back, pressing your ass against his pelvis as he tucks you into his shadow.

"who's this fuckin' nitwit?" ghost mutters, clicking his tongue under his mask. you swallow, blinking up at the man, shrugging as you try and press yourself a little closer against his heat.

"i-i dunno," you whisper, and it's shaky, afraid. "h-he won't stop...following me."

"tha' right?" ghost hums, and you're so afraid of the man in front of you that you don't really register the way ghost's big hand is slipping lower, over the curve of your denim jeans and squeezing the fat of your ass that fills the palm of his hand all too nicely. "ya botherin' 'er?"

the man swallows a little, hiccuping. he stands up straighter, a little more sober, and he just shrugs as he takes another swig of his beer.

"just...she's so pretty, ya know--agh!"

ghost reaches over and grips him by the fat of his neck. he squeezes hard, drawing him closer, would be spitting in his face if he wasn't wearing the balaclava over his head.

"'f i see ya around 'er again, i'll paint the fuckin' walls with y'r teeth, mate, yeah? now get outta my fuckin' sight before i do it just for fun."

when ghost lets him go, he struggles to breathe, holding onto the bar and coughing as he scrambles to put distance between you. you shake a little, turning towards the bar, picking up what you assume is his drink and sipping it slowly to try and calm the nerves. you close your eyes gently, shaking your head.

"thank you," you say softly. "i-i couldn't shake him off, he was following me everywhere, i..." you turn your head and meet his eyes, smiling up at him. "that was really nice of you. i'm...sorry if i caused you any trouble."

ghost tilts his head to the side, fitting himself back behind you. he reaches over, putting both arms on either side of you and leaning over one shoulder, breathing hot against your neck.

"wot you mean?" he murmurs, and you blink, not understanding.

"for pretending to..." you laugh a little, looking into his eyes. "just...it was nice of you to do that. to pretend like that, i--"

"dunno wot y'r talkin' about," ghost chuckles, and you seize when he reaches down between you, cupping you between the legs as he palms at your pussy over your jeans. you keen a little, leaning into his touch, nasty brute pressing two fingers against where you're most sensitive and forcing your ass back against him, where he's hard, chubbed up since he first saw you, leaking into his cargos.

"i-i--" your eyes are wide, but you don't pull away, don't push him back--why am i not running? why can't i leave? what's happening to me--

"i wasn't pretending. were you?"

[charbroiledchicken]

reblog if you're a writer but would rather drink straight cyanide than show any of your family members your work

[shawtuzi]

“o—ohhh fuck ‘renny!” you pink pedicured toes curled in ecstasy as eren slipped inside the tightness of your pussy in one go, the veins and ridges on his dick rubbing deliciously against your walls. eren let out a deep growl, his forehead falling against your shoulder, the baby hairs from his disheveled bun tickling your cheek. “s-stop squeezing me so fucking tight y/n, goddamn,” his nostrils flared, bicep tightening around your throat the tiniest bit.

he had you on your tummy, your head smushed between his arm and bicep while he took you from behind. the lack of oxygen on top of the fact that you both smoked beforehand had your head spinning. “i can’t he—help it ren m’sorryyy,” your pouting lips pressed against his arm, giving it little kisses. how cute.

eren pulled out halfway before slamming back in, his hips grinding against your ass. his strokes were nice n’ deep, his swollen tip bumping against that squishy spot that had you gasping for air. you were so soft and warm he almost didn’t wanna pull out, wanting to bask in your essence all night long. “r-ren i *hiccup*—”

“i know, baby, i knowww. hurts so good doesn’t it?”

you let out a pathetic ‘uh huhhh’, drool slipping past your lips and onto his tatted forearm. you couldn’t quite find the words to say to him, but that’s okay!! whenever he had you like this eren always did the thinking for you.

your backside pushed against his front, meeting his thrusts halfway. “thas’ right baby c’mon, fuck me back. show me how much you wanna cum,” eren slurred into your ear, his tongue lolling out to lick the shell of out. you shivered, tears slipping freely from your already bloodshot eyes.

“wanna cum so bad renny, y-you’re gonna—hah, finish in—inside right?” you were sure you’d burst into uncontrollable sobs if he denied you of the sweet feeling of filling you up with his warm cum. eren clenched his jaw impossibly tight, his dick throbbing painfully hard from your dirty mouth.

��mmph, don’t worry baby. after tonight you’re gonna be dripping my cum for days, i promise princess,” his free hand hooked two fingers in your mouth, his balls tightening when you immediately started swirling your tongue around the digits. “thounds like a dweam,” you panted against his fingers, your eyes now fluttering shut.

“uhn uhn, look at me y/n. wanna see your face when i make your pretty pussy cum,” it took all the strength you had to open your eyes and turn your head to the side but it was all worth it to see the fucked out, yet oh so slick smile on eren’s face. “tho pretty,” you moaned, nibbling on his knuckles.

embarrassingly enough you calling eren pretty had the coil in his tummy snapping, his hips snapping against your one more time as he came inside of you. his orgasm triggered your own, a symphony of moans leaving your kiss swollen lips—very loudly might i add bc eren’s a little shit and pressed down on your tongue to open your mouth wider.

“mm you like being called pretty renny?”

“shut up please.”

[lilacxquartz]

love you, love you, love you;

mr. crawling x reader

plot: some things are best expressed without the need of words — themes: spooning/cuddling, smut, maybe yan vibes — w.c: 1.1k

a/n: my first homicipher related fic. i want to try one for mr. silvair & mr. gap next, bc they were also my favs. this game has been taking over my life so much lately. like it’s been in my dreams, haaah.

masterlist • ao3

Mr. Crawling was always loud when he was excited within your company; his laughter filled out the vast empty spaces that were otherwise unadorned with familiarity. Whatever you once sought from those winding corridors was ever-fleeting, temporary, leaving you stuck within the confines of his company.

Yet, when he felt what you could only interpret as affection—that’s when Mr. Crawling then became different—quiet, soothing, kind but also… curious.

And when you would usually sleep, he would stand watch, knelt over the floor as per his usual stance but sometimes crouched near you, sometimes leaning back against the wall with his legs pressed up against his chest. He would watch you as his life depended on it, unwavering in focus and with eerie intensity. He would watch as your chest rose and fell, leaning close on occasion to catch the sweep of your breath and sometimes, he would trace the pad of his milky fingertips in long, languid strokes against your face. Always so delicate, so tender, but for the most part, quiet and even shy.

Having once caught a glimpse of Mr. Gap in your blanket space, however, set something territorial off for Mr. Crawling and he was never able to recover from such an invasion. The very idea that someone else was able to infiltrate what he deemed to be your space—especially someone who he disapproved of—wasn’t something he could stand for. Especially with the sort of trickster Mr. Gap was, he couldn’t bear to see you get hurt. It would kill him on the inside (and on the outside, too).

So, just as you were getting into bed to rest up once more, he too, slipped in under the covers with you. At first, you were startled as usual, turning to face him with confusion evident in your eyes, murmuring out some words in a language that he still could not understand. He repeated something back, the meaning lost and indecipherable upon your ears, though soon surrendering to emphasis using gestures instead. A hug to bring you closer, a reassuring pat on your head and a small, longing kiss over your nose.

You listened to his words again, repeating over and over like a broken record.

Perhaps he meant no harm, after all.

You turned your back to him and settled into his chest, finding that he was surprisingly warm for what he was. His taller frame encased your body, wrapping his ashen arms around your waist—accidentally brushing the fabric that sat over your breast—nicking the cloth ever so slightly. Your breath hitched in surprise and as though in sheepish realisation, he withdrew right away, terrified that you were upset with him.

You drew out a long breath, reminding yourself again, that after everything that has happened thus far…

That, Mr. Crawling does not want to hurt you.

That Mr. Crawling has only ever helped you.

So perhaps, right now, Mr. Crawling only wanted to be closer to you.

You relaxed your breathing, settling into his comforting shadow once more and allowed for his presence to envelop you. He repeated the soothing motions of his grappling arm, although he held onto you softer that time. His hands explored your body with a delicate touch, as though afraid of breaking you—of upsetting you again—his motions growing confident the longer that you didn’t protest. It wasn’t long before he, otherwise not disturbed by your lacking, conscious awareness, decided to explore further with you. Mr. Crawling’s fingers didn’t ask for permission that time, creeping beneath the clinging fabric, feeling your skin against his palms, inviting a pleased, almost delighted smile to curl on his lips.

The silence remained unbroken as Mr. Crawling continued his explorative focus on you; the quickly-building evidence of his need growing harder the longer he pushed himself behind your body, the repeated touches arousing something warmer within him. To both his surprise as well as your own—you were not repulsed, allowing him to creep even lower, below the skirt of the dress and up, brushing his hand up to your exposed skin and, reading into it—you communicated your consent from the moment you parted your legs, allowing him to get even closer.

Confidence surged in Mr. Crawling as he pushed himself into your hilt, allowing his hardened length to slip inside. Betraying the stagnant silence, he shuddered out a ragged gasp before giving into his own rising need; grinding himself into your sopping sex with steadily increasing fervour. His fingers clamped around the curve of your hips as he held you in place, slamming every last inch of himself deep into your core.

Ever touch-starved yet wanting nothing more than to surrender to the sensation of you, Mr. Crawling continued to drive his cock into your needy cunt, soon wrapping his winding arms around your body and holding on tight. He bucked intensely as you soon succumbed to breathless whimpers, incoherently begging for his name. Equally desperate whines rolled off the slip of his tongue as he found his lips pressed into the crook of your neck, dampening your skin with sloppy wet kisses—as many as he could give.

It felt overwhelming for you in a way to be worshipped like this but you did your best to keep up with such intensity, especially as the warm, tingling pleasure built up inside of you, too. You held on just as tight as he did, your hand seeking out his own—fingers weaving into his bony digits—interlocking and squeezing tight the closer you got, your grip and otherwise clenching need tightening simultaneously. To feel him losing himself inside of you was dare you admit, addicting, feeling him completely fill and stretch you out leaving you almost dizzied from the impaling force.

Mr. Crawling, like you, soon surrendered to the rolling bliss from the flick of his hips, feeling a surging warmth mount and rise, encouraging him to lose himself to the searing heat of the moment and you. Encircling your body in a possessive hug, he suddenly began to mutter out a new word in a strained mantra, again and again.

Given how desperate he seemed to be, you understood the meaning as ‘close’, especially as his actions grew more strained and less controlled.

“Close, close, close,” he repeated.

It didn’t take his chased release to catch up as his hips grew to a stutter, rutting out one final pump before melting into you. Mr. Crawling cried into your neck, spilling out the entirety of his overflowing love, feeling the pent-up devotion trickle down your thighs—yet not letting you move away—still retaining his claim on you.

Instead, he kept you even closer than before, not allowing you to part from him ever again (despite understanding your yearning for rest).

Words were never the problem, it seemed.

Mr. Crawling would have always found a way to… connect with you.

[gutsby]

Stiff

Pairing: Old!Joel x Reader

Summary: At fifty-nine, Joel isn’t sure his dick can keep up with every day it’s going to take to get you pregnant. He seeks help from Jackson’s local apothecary and gets more than bargained for when that little blue pill kicks in.

Or, your old man wants to knock you up. Viagra helps.

Warnings: 18+. Unprotected p-in-v (obviously 😵‍💫🤙🏼). Breeding kink. Age gap. Peepaw Joel. Blue Pill Joel. Post-apocalyptic-Viagra-dosage-gone-horribly-wrong-and-now-his-dick-won’t-deflate-for-a-day…but it’s OK!

Note: This is the crackfic counterpart/sequel to ‘Make It Stick’

Word count: 2.9k

Forty-five minutes.

Forty-five minutes until his fate was sealed for the night. His pulse would quicken. His head would start to swim, and any last sliver of rational thought would be lost to the ether or the cold, snowy air around him. Joel Miller had to hurry now, because that bite-sized blue pill he’d just taken was in his belly, and if his dick didn’t find its way in you, he was fucked. Or at least huge and swollen and leaking out beads of hot desire the size of golf balls.

Well, maybe that was just his cock.

Joel looked down, scanning his pants.

Yeah…definitely just cock. He walked faster.

At home, he knew he’d find you curled up on the couch, nose in a book. What to Expect When You’re Expecting, if he had to guess. Then, sure enough, you’d lift your eyes and smile—‘Thank goodness you’re back, daddy’—and lift the hem of your night dress just slightly. Spread your legs and beckon him in. It was a nightly routine by now.

You wanted to be knocked up as fast as possible, after all

At almost sixty years old, Joel couldn’t believe he was actually saying these words aloud. But here he was—crawling overtop you on the couch, situating himself between your legs, and pulling his cock out, mumbling:

“Gonna let me put a baby in you tonight?”

You nodded sweetly—eagerly—every time.

Joel knew he could never resist that look. He was as good as finished the first second you let him sink inside your tight, weeping hole, and when he stretched it, he could already tell this was all he would ever want to do. Make you happy, fill you up, give you lots and lots of him.

It was why he’d stopped by the apothecary tonight. Why he’d hesitated only a moment before clearing his throat and asking for a pill like Viagra—Joel knew that the man behind the counter would flash him a wry, knowing grin.

Trouble keepin’ up with that sweet young thing’a yours?

David was a dick.

He wasn’t entirely wrong, either.

Ever since agreeing to start trying for a baby, Joel had become acutely aware of his own physical limitations in that department, and one of them was stamina. He could scarcely fuck twice in the same night without needing a long and rest-intensive breather. You were young and could roll over ready to go in five minutes.

It wasn’t fair to deprive you now on account of his age.

If you wanted his cum, you were getting it, no question.

Not just once, but multiple times. Again and again and—

“Again,” Joel grunted once he’d shot off his last spurt.

Fifty-eight minutes had passed since he’d taken that pill. It had fully kicked in, and his dick was still hard, even after finishing inside you with a sticky, white-hot flood.

You blinked dreamily up at him.

“You mean it, old man?” you teased him lightly.

I’ll show you what I mean, Joel thought to himself before flipping you over on the sofa. He had your hips tilted up and his cock driving back inside your freshly-fucked cunt in no time at all. He felt his spend coating your walls; it let him glide right in. Joel groaned and jerked himself back out, then fucked back in again and again and again.

“Again?”

Your word was exhaled in a laugh.

You stood in front of the bathroom sink, trying to tidy up the insides of your legs and push some more of Joel’s load back in, when you felt a presence at your back.

Stabbing your ass.

You started to turn then, puzzled.

“Bend over,” Joel commanded before you could.

You did as you were told because, frankly, you loved getting fucked wherever your old man wanted it—even if he had broken the sink one time he’d pounded you here.

But there was palpable confusion, too. How in the hell had Joel Miller, certified silver fox and owner of a dick old enough to remember Woodstock and the moon landing, managed to get his dick hard in the five minutes since he’d had you face-down, ass-up on the couch?

Or had his dick gotten soft at all?

You wanted to question him about it, or else give a long, hard look at his uncharacteristically long, hard friend, when the next moment had you gripping the counter. Stretching between the legs as Joel pushed back in.

“There she is,” he murmured affectionately.

Really, you’d never been wetter. Or warmer. Or filled to the brim with more sticky-white spend than you could ever hope to hold inside, it felt like. You bent at the waist and let him have his fill. You closed your eyes and rested your head on your forearms while Joel’s hot, bulbous tip grazed your cervix with dizzying alacrity. A smile crept in.

Whatever this was, you wanted more of it.

His dick was still hard.

Four mind-numbing fucks and another forty-five minutes later, Joel’s cock hadn’t deflated the tiniest bit.

The thing had hammered you so thoroughly he’d nearly destroyed the sink again. You’d whimpered, and whined, and warned him quietly, ‘We just fixed the porcelain, baby,’ and right before he’d painted your walls with his seed, you’d cum for him practically shrieking. Shaking.

Letting him turn you around for a kiss, only to mumble against his mouth with a sleepy, cockdrunk sort of lilt:

“I think you gave me twins.”

Then he’d fucked you in the shower to make it triplets.

Now you were laying out on the bed, truly spent, eyes following him in the semi-darkness of your bedroom after you’d toweled off and collapsed among the pillows.

“What’s gotten into you tonight, Miller?” you breathed.

Joel made it over to the dresser, back turned to you. He rifled through a drawer looking for something extra tight.

“Just missed you is all,” he said, shrugging.

What he needed right now was fabric that was very thick to hide the boner he was sporting. Joel could tell from the way you spoke that you were too tired for round five, and he didn’t want you feeling like you had to go again.

He would be fine.

His dick might not deflate until dawn, but that was okay.

“Wish you missed me like this every day,” you giggled.

When Joel turned around, he was shocked to find you sprawled out on the bed—hands between your legs.

There was a shy smile on your face.

“Baby…” he trailed off, watching your fingers flit through that sticky mess where he’d left it. Where you glistened.

Where you slid your index and middle fingers up and down your slit and drew circles on your clit, eyes shining.

“What? I missed you too,” you said, tone all faux protest.

You had no idea what you did to him when you talked like that. Especially when he was drowning in a state like this.

Hard as a rock.

Throbbing.

Needy.

Scarcely even knowing what he was doing, Joel found himself over by the foot of the bed in a second. Watching your every move with a wild, wipe-open stare he still couldn’t believe you found appealing. He swallowed.

He not only looked perverted, but he felt it, too. It rarely ever left his mind, save for the four or five seconds he spent in ecstasy emptying the contents of his balls inside your cunt, that he was his age, and you were yours. That perhaps the rest of Jackson was right, and he was wrong: he had no business being around a girl like you, much less getting off inside you every night. Was this really what you wanted? A bewildering mixture of guilt, lust, and love all circulated through his skull at that moment, and the longer he spent looking at your fingers, ogling the way you teased them through his cum between your legs, the more he felt certain he was bad.

No one corrupted a thing this sweet and got to call themselves good, anyway, he thought to himself idly.

“I keep gettin’ that…feelin’,” you said under your breath.

Joel’s hand tightened in a fist, and it was then that he realized it was wrapped around his cock. Still watching.

“Yeah, baby? What feelin’?” he returned, almost as quiet.

Still stroking himself up and down, up and down, softly.

You had your legs spread open—knees splayed wider than they’d been before. And your eyes had a tender, placid sheen to them, like they just might cry if they didn’t get release of some kind soon. Then you slowed.

Your touch slipped from your clit to the opaque, sticky globs between your thighs, and that look got even softer.

More desperate.

“Can’t…explain it.” You shook your head, as if pained, and then you sank two fingers inside. Joel could hear the tiny schlick from where he stood, and it almost did him in.

You sucked in a breath and added, “It’s a special feelin’.”

Joel’s fist had already worked its way up to a ridiculous speed. Again, he sensed this might be the worst and most pathetic he’d ever looked, but by the glint in your eyes and the way you kept holding him there, he also knew you weren’t asking him to stop, either. You were needing something else—something he could provide.

Thanks to that one stupid pill.

Joel’s smile was strained as he gripped the edge of the bed, like he was trying to assuage you and him at once.

“Try me, baby. Tell me ‘bout that special feelin’.”

Your middle and ring fingers disappeared inside you.

You whined, “Ain’t fair to say it now. You’re tired, daddy.”

Like hell he was. Joel crawled over the footboard and made his way straight to you, where your body was limp.

His breaths were coming in so fast and his pulse was thrumming so hard that he almost couldn’t hear himself talking. But he ventured to speak as gently as he could.

“I’m wide awake, sweet pea. I’m all ears. Talk to me.”

And if his words didn’t communicate as much, surely the look in his eyes would’ve told you all the rest. Quietly, he slipped his torso between your legs, where you’d inserted a third finger and were moving your hips again. You were fingering yourself, breathing shallow and quick.

“It’s a feelin’ like I wanna be…stuffed…a-and full’a you.”

Joel’s whole body could’ve liquified on the spot. His brain, presently, had all the consistency of a plate of scrambled eggs if he’d had to guess. Feeling his cock swell even bigger and his hips sink lower to yours of their own accord, he had only to grit his teeth and nod his head. He felt the tip of him bump your fingers, and the sensation and the expectation nearly drove him insane.

He mumbled quietly, “Then move your hand.”

You did. You winced again. You looked as though you might be ashamed for wanting him to fill you with his spend, and Joel simply wouldn’t allow that any longer.

Without saying another word, he slid back in.

Your cum and his facilitated the slide, and you opened right up for him. You whimpered, while Joel grunted like an animal. He couldn’t help it; it all felt so fucking primal.

How you could ever feel the need to apologize for wanting more of this was more than he could take.

“Every inch of me,” Joel said, rutting deeper, “is yours.”

He withdrew to the tip, and he could feel strings of arousal linking him to you in a sickeningly sweet way.

You could scarcely even nod, just waiting for him again.

When Joel plunged back in, he heard a feral little cry, and he felt your legs wrap around his waist. He went faster. You fisted the pillow behind your head in one hand, while the other laid flat on his chest, like you were checking for a heartbeat. You could probably hear it thudding a million miles per minute right now. Your hips collided in tandem.

“D— Daddy,” you whimpered.

“That’s it, open up for daddy. Good girl. It’s all yours.”

The sounds his thrusts were making were obscene.

“Every inch?” you breathed, “E-Every drop, too?”

“Every fiber of my fucking being, sweet girl.”

That made you smile, at length. Your hand slid from his chest, down his round belly, straight to a groin that was pounding hard and fast against your own. Joel groaned when he felt your touch sweep inside your legs—right in the space where his cum had come trickling out. You slid your fingers through that mess, then whimpered again.

Then you brought your hand up to your mouth.

You wrapped your lips around your cum-soaked fingers like they were the single sweetest thing, and you sucked.

Joel had no say after seeing that: he had to cum again.

It likely stunned you both—you more than him, by the look that crossed your eyes the second you felt him throb and pulse inside your cunt—but then it kept going.

Rather than stop, or slow down in the slightest, Joel found his hips pistoning faster than they had before. The whole bed frame shook, and your body trembled with every thrust, and the noises between your legs grew even louder; the sound of skin slapping skin was only amplified by the addition of Joel’s hot load in the mix.

The man was operating on impulse. You, through sheer awe and an animalistic need to have every crevice filled. You held him and you grit your teeth, and you let him keep using your body, while you used his. You kissed him.

“Go on, then—make me a daddy. Take my cum, baby,” Joel babbled, brainless, “Make your old man a daddy.”

He couldn’t tell if it were the words or the rhythm or the pleasure that had already been blossoming deep in your gut this whole time, but he felt you fall apart. You wrapped your legs tighter around his waist than you had all night, and you screamed his name. Begged for more.

“Cum in me, daddy—pleasepleaseplease just cum, ju—”

And there he went. Again. Flooding your insides with his warmth and letting his cock carve a wild, relentless path through your cunt like it was all the man knew how to do. He filled you up. He felt it leaking down his length with every stab of his hips, and frankly, he didn’t care what he looked like now. You were smiling big, drawing him in for more kisses as he panted and grunted and whimpered like he never had before. He kissed back. Slowed down.

Found himself lost in your mouth as your tongue wove delectably through his own and your hands made their way to his wild, greying hair. You tugged, and he moaned.

He fucked his spend deeper without even meaning to.

All instinct again, it seemed he couldn’t get enough.

Suddenly, he felt a new, strange urge bubble up.

“I-I-I took a pill tonight,” he blurted out, “Know how badly you want this baby, and I wanna give you one.”

Or two. Or twenty. He was barely capable of speech, let alone rational cognition, so he just spoke whatever came to his mind then, still snug inside your legs and panting.

“A pill?” you whispered back.

Joel’s gaze locked with yours.

He felt stupid for it all at once.

“Yeah. Yeah, I just— I know I’m gettin’ on in years, and I probably can’t fuck the way I used to. And you deserve someone who can…Maybe a guy your age, but that—”

“—is the single dumbest thing you have ever said to me,” you finished for him, eyes narrowing swiftly in a scowl.

When Joel tried talking again, you cut him off.

“I don’t care what any guy my age is doing, or could do. I want babies with you, and that includes every part, OK?”

Your look softened momentarily, seeing his lips twitch down—you could probably see he wasn’t believing you.

Then you cradled his face in your palms. You smiled. You brushed his nose with yours, and you kissed him again, and with what little strength you likely had left in your body, you dug your heels in his ass and pulled him deeper. Both of you let out soft, low grunts at the effort.

“If you fucked like this at twenty-five, my body wouldn’t have survived anyway,” you whispered in reassurance. Biting back a laugh as Joel smiled, too, “I like things just the way they are. Just like how I hope you like me, too.”

“No—I love you.” Joel shook his head, almost plaintive.

And for the first time that night, he felt himself soften.

Whether it was the pill wearing off or that first thread of vulnerability stretching out between your body and his, he didn’t really care. He kissed the tip of your nose and was about to say something more, when you cut back in.

“I love you more. And since we’re being honest tonight,” you started quietly, nipping at your bottom lip a second, “I might…need you back at the apothecary tomorrow.”

Joel’s face fell.

“Wh— is something wrong, baby?” His voice was tight.

He hated seeing David, but, of course, he’d go back there in a heartbeat if it meant getting you the medication you needed. His stomach was starting to churn, when you reached up to hold his face again. You shook your head.

“No, no, Joel, I’m fine. But I may need prenatal vitamins.”

Now his eyes were going wide. His cheeks heated under your palms, and his cock twitched inside you, reflexively.

“You mean…” he murmured, unable to finish. Swallowing.

Beneath him, he saw you smile and nod.

He nearly choked hearing what followed:

“I meant to tell you earlier, but…my period’s a little late.”

[shouyuus]

18+, vi-shaped brainrot, mdni

consider college roommate!vi who is the star of the rugby team and just such a fucking jock about it, spends hours at the gym, has pre and post workout drinks and never closes her door when she's blasting rock music, leaves pink hair dye on the bathroom counter, stains the tub when she gets drunk and tries to redo her roots, calls you everything but your name -- sweetcheeks, dollface, cupcake, princess -- isn't shy about her hookups, doesn't even bother to apologize the mornings after another pretty cheerleader scampers out of her room, shrugs and winks when you come out of the bathroom with a tiny thong dangling off your finger that's clearly not either of yours.

college roommate!vi who does kickboxing on the weekends and teaches a kid's course at the local gym. the first time you go there to drop something of her's off as a favor, you can't help but stare at the way she laughs and chases the kids around, so gentle with her movements, so careful, guiding their punches, correcting their forms. and the kids love her -- it's so easy to see, the stars in their eyes, the color high in their cheeks, the way the girls cluster around her legs and the boys are constantly vying for her approval, how she tries her best to divide up her attention equally between all of them.

college roommate!vi who goes real quiet the first time you laugh in her presence, a real laugh, not one of those ha-ha ones you snipe at her when she's trying to get a rise out of you, or teasing you about spending all your time in the library, but one that shakes your shoulders and makes your whole face light up. who has to blink when you cock your head and ask if she's okay bc she was so busy staring at you, wondering about the weird thumping in her chest, the tightness in her throat.

college roommate!vi who's there for you when you're stressed about your dissertation, and she knew you were smart, but listening to you rant about it at 3am in the morning, she's starting to realize that... you're kind of a genius. to be so young and already doing a doctorate in mechanical engineering, and the things you're trying to do -- they could conceivably change the world one day. who freezes when you let your head drop onto her shoulder with a heavy sigh, telling her that you don't know what to do.

"you'll figure it out, cupcake. with a brain like yours? you always do."

college roommate!vi who realizes way too late that she's kinda got it bad for you, bc since when did she start getting used to the sight of you wearing one of her gym shirts in the mornings, making scrambled eggs, rolling your eyes when she yawns her way into the tiny kitchen, leaning an arm against the fridge as she looks you over before asking what's for breakfast. who's gotten so used to falling asleep to the soft clatter of your computer keys that when you leave to visit your family for a weekend, she tosses and turns and can't figure out why it's impossible for her to get to sleep, wanders into sliver of space you guys have crammed a couch and tv into to call a living room, slumping down there to stare at the ceiling, only to feel her fingers graze against something on the ground, who tugs out the thing from under the couch only to find herself staring at one of your bunched up socks with the goofy cartoon cats pattern, and she remembers (suddenly) finding you tearing your room apart the week before trying to look for it because it's your favorite pair of socks.

she finds herself chuckling, letting the sock fall again, but the tightness in her throat doesn't recede, and invisible fingers clench in her gut as she lets her eyes fall shut.

"well... fuck."

college roommate!vi who doesn't know how to act when you get back from your weekend away, when you throw yourself into her arms, your skin still smelling of the crisp fall air and something warm, and spicy -- it reminds her of the holiday market you dragged her to last year, the cinnamon and spiced apples, the hot, mulled wine, the way it burned all the way down when she took the first sip, the way it worked the most darling flush into your cheeks above your pink knit scarf.

"i've got a present for you!" you say, when you finally extricate yourself from her gasp, your arms still around her shoulders, her hands still settled around your waist.

"y-yeah? you didn't have to do that, sweetcheeks --"

"yeah, but i saw this in a store window and -- well i just... it reminded me of you," you say, pulling back to dig something out of your travel bag, and it takes everything in vi not to tug you back into her chest. so instead, she settles for knitting her arms across her front and coughing to hide the fact that her throat's just tightened over itself at your words. you? seeing something and thinking of her? gods, she was so far gone.

"here," you say, pulling a small black box out and offering it to her on the palm of your hand.

vi stares, before reaching out to take it, her eyes flickering up towards your face, only to catch you chewing on your bottom lip in a way that makes her mind frizzle out at the edges. she refocuses her attention on the box -- opening it, she finds a tiny little gemstone, set on a thin golden chain --

"oh..." she breathes, tugging out up to let the gem dangle from between her fingers.

"it -- it's an alexandrite stone," you say, your voice a bit reedy, but you push on as vi continues to stare, "it's uhm -- one of the rarest gemstones in nature, but the cool thing is it changes colors depending on what kind of light it's under --" you reach up to grasp her wrist, her lungs seizing at the contact as you tug her into the incandescent light of the kitchen. "see? it was light blue a second ago, right? and now it's --"

"violet," vi says, her voice soft and disbelieving.

you quickly let go of her wrist, pursing your lips and wrapping your arms around yourself, looking anywhere but at her face.

"yeah -- i just --" your shoulders shrug up as she stares at you, her sky-light eyes wide, "it... it reminded me of... you."

college roommate!vi who, ever since the "necklace incident" (as the rest of the rugby team likes to call it), hasn't really been the same. she's put on the necklace and not taken it off for even a second since the day you gave it to her, but now she doesn't really know how to act around you -- bc did you actually like her? i mean, the necklace is... a pretty big thing to just give someone, but what if you were just giving it to her as a friend? as a roommate? she agonizes over it to the point that the rest of the team are so, so sick of hearing about it, they lovingly tell her to just fuck her and get it over with already. but vi insists that she can't -- it's different with you.

college roommate!vi who's stunned speechless when she gets home to find you staring at your computer, your expression blank. and at first, she thinks something's horribly wrong, but then you're slamming into her, squealing about how you've done it -- your thesis defense went well, that you're a doctor now -- and she's picking you up, spinning you around, buoyed up by the effervescence of your happiness, pressing a kiss to your cheek --

"oh my god, congrats princess! i knew it! i always knew you could do it!"

"thanks -- god, i just -- i've wanted it for so long i... i don't know what to do with myself now that i've got it, y'know?" you say, still suspended in vi's arms, your feet lifted off the ground. it takes a moment before you both seem to realize the position you're in, and vi clears her throat as she lets you down, you looking away, pressing your palms to your cheeks to cool the heat gathering there.

after a brief pause though, vi chuckles, reaching out to slip a finger beneath your chin, tilting your face up towards her's.

"c'mon, put on one of those pretty dresses of yours. we're going out."

"out?"

"yeah. to celebrate."

you blink as vi pulls her hand away.

"but it's like... 4:30 on a tuesday."

vi cocks an eyebrow, a smirk twitching at her lips, "yes, and? c'mon cupcake --" her eyes catch yours and instead of looking away, she holds it this time, something flickering behind their powder-blue depths that makes your skin prickle with heat, "i'll show you a good time."

college roommate!vi who takes you to one of her favorite clubs, tugging you through the crowd, the jostling bodies, holding your hand in her's, trying really hard not to think too much about it (or the fucking insane little black and pink miniskirt you put on), telling herself that it's just to make sure she doesn't lose you in the crowd, grinning when someone knocks you into her chest, and she finds her arm wrapped around your waist, fingers scrunching the material of your skirt, your palms splayed on her chest.

she buys the both of you a round of shots, watching with a hitched breath as your tongue flickers out to lick the salt daubed on your wrist, the way your eyes squeeze shut when you take the shot and your lips wrap around the lime slice, tries to ignore the twist in her gut like a turning blade, the way her whole body flushes with heat, the dull ache caught between her legs when you wipe your lips, your eyes bright and a little blown out, your cheeks flushed with color as you giggle and lace your hands with hers again --

"come on! i wanna dance!"

college roommate!vi who is just drunk enough to let herself dance with you, to let herself lean in to the way you're twisting your body, fingers in your hair, your eyes closed, an indulgent smile on your lips, who let's herself imagine (just for a second), pulling you in to kiss you, how soft your lips might feel on hers, how silken your skin might be beneath her hands, who tries not to groan when you lean in closer, link your arms behind her neck, press your whole body against her's, who grips your hips just a little too tight, grinds you against her, sees the way you gasp, your eyelids fluttering as you eyes glaze out --

college roommate!vi who can't help how she groans at the sight, tugs you in by the back of your neck to mash her lips to yours, crushing you to her as she kisses you (finally, finally) and you let yourself he kissed -- your fingers tangle in her choppy pink hair, and she swears you make this sweet, mind-bending whimpering noise in the back of your throat that drives her up the wall and right over it --

but when she pulls back, she sees the look on your face -- shocked and little confused, but you're drunk, and she doesn't wanna do this with you -- at least, not like this.

college roommate!vi who pulls away, only to have you follow her all the way out the club, into this small dark alley, her shaking her head, feeling a strange, saltwater prickle at the back of her throat as she says --

"shit -- sorry. i didn't mean to -- i just -- you were just so -- and i -- fuck, i didn't --"

"vi -- vi -- no, violet, listen to me --"

it's her full name on your lips that makes her pause, makes her turn to find you walking towards her. your lipstick is smeared, your hair a waterfall mess around your shoulders as you corner her against the rough brick of the club's exterior. faintly, she can still feel the pulse of music reverberating from inside the club, but out here, the air is damp and cold and quiet.

"i -- i'm sorry i kissed you," she says, her voice cracking over the syllables. she bites her lips as you frown up at her, your eyes searching her's before you let out a soft sigh and a scoff.

"well. i'm sorry you feel that way. cause..." you take half a step back, your arms curling around yourself before you glance back at her with a hard, determined light to your eyes as you press back into her space, your cheeks bright with color.

"i was really kinda hoping you'd do it again."

vi's breath punches out of her chest; it takes a few seconds of sputtering before she gathers herself enough to speak.

"wait -- what? you..."

you crinkle your nose, rolling your eyes, "i -- i thought i was making it obvious -- i mean, with the whole necklace thing -- it doesn't take a genius to figure how i feel about --"

you squeak as she pins you against the opposite wall, her lips seeking yours out, her fingers rucking up the material of your top, making you hiccup as they tease under the wire-rim of your bra.

college roommate!vi who can barely control herself when you sink your fingers into her hair, tugging lightly as you gasp out a breath, her lips tracking fire along the side of your neck, intent on making you whimper again, just the way she likes, grazing her teeth along your collarbone even as you jerk at her hair --

"vi -- fuck -- vi, not here --" you swallow around the burgeoning desire, and when you glance down to find her looking up at you, her eyes so dark they're almost black, you fight back a groan, cup your palms around her cheeks and pull her up for a long kiss.

"let's --" you suck in a breath even as vi whines at the loss your lips, "let's go home --"

"holy fuck," vi swears, somehow managing to pull herself back just far enough to taste the misty night air. she stares at you, your chest heaving, a daisy-chain of hickeys blossoming along the long expanse of your neck, your makeup good and smeared, your hair a mess, your eyes bright and so full of love as they flicker over her face.

vi smiles, helpless to the loud, uncertain drumming of her heart as she says, "y-yeah -- let's get you home, princess."

college roommate!vi who barely waits for the elevator door to close in your building before she's got you shoved up against the wall, hoisting you up, her fingers seeking out the softness of your skin, tugging up your shirt, her other hand dipping into the waistband of your skirt, her mouth open and hungry as she kisses your neck, bites down at the junction of your shoulder just to hear you moan.

college roommate!vi who's way too good at undoing your bra with one hand the second you get back to your apartment (if you were more coherent, you might've thought it hot), the door slamming closed, the pair of you toppling onto the room, breathy laughs and panting whines as she hoists you into her arms and carries you to your bedroom, laying you down so gently, kissing up your stomach till you're whimpering, your own hands pulling your top off your body, leaving you in an undone-bra and a miniskirt, your cheeks flushed. you push yourself up onto your elbows, watching as vi peaks up at you from between your legs, shooting you a wink before she's tugging down your skirt and panties all in one, an eyebrow ticking up at the lil lacey thing you had on beneath the skirt all along.

"all this for me, pretty?"

you press your lips, eyes cutting away as she looks between the bra dangling off your shoulders and the panties caught round your ankles. her lashes flutter.

"oh, a matching set," she cocks her head, running her palms up your thighs, pinning them open again as you try to press them closed, feeling suddenly much too seen (bc you'd be straight up lying if you hadn't put it on in the vague hope that the night might evolve into something like this).

she clicks her tongue, shaking her head with a cocky, shit-eating grin that makes your heart skitter in your chest. her drops a light kiss to your inner thigh, savoring in the way you whine again.

"nope, keep 'em open princess."

college roommate!vi who takes her time with you, bc rly she's been waiting way too long for this, has imagined it one too many times, but nothing can compare to the way your hips jerk up against her mouth, the way your fingers tighten in her hair every time she licks up the seam of your cunt, the way your breath catches on her name over and over again, like you can't quite get the word out even though it's just a single syllable. she groans against you, too lost in the taste of you to care about what a mess she must look like, with her tongue fucking into your desperate hole, her nose nudging your clit, her fingers digging crescent moon marks into your hipbones.

she's sure that if this were an old-fashioned cartoon, there'd be big, balloon hearts popping out of her eyes. she can't get enough of you like this -- moaning her name, your legs on either side of her face, your skin littered with the remnants of her. she has the eye-rolling thought of you the next morning, of how all these marks will still be there to remind you of her every single time you see one of them.

college roommate!vi who doesn't expect you to flip over after she's literally eaten you out seven ways to sunday, to tug her in for a soft kiss (though she really does like pressing your own taste back into your mouth with her tongue), before your fingers are inching down the length of her body to tease at her hips, trailing circles down the lines of her abs, toying with the thin line of hair that leads into her black boxer briefs.

"what are you --"

you shoot her a look that has her mouth going dry.

"what? didn't think i can give as good as i get?"

college roommate!vi who's literally going to lose her mind with the way you're fingers (at first sight so thin and delicate, but gods are they stronger than they look) are pressing into her, curling up with the kind of precision usually only associated with doctors, and then a voice in the back of her head reminds her -- oh, right, you are a doctor now. but logical thought dies after that, bc you've somehow worked your way between her legs and are looking up at her with those big dark eyes of yours, smiling sunshine bright before you drop a kitten-lick against her clit and she's twitching, keening as she cums all over your fingers.

"jesus fuckin' christ, doll -- is that what you're learning in those engineering classes?"

she's breathless, cheeks flushed, and honestly just a little embarrassed at how quickly she came, but she has to bite back another groan as she watches you lick your fingers clean, grinning sweetly up at her as if you didn't just get her off in record time.

"no, but i did do my dissertation on human-based robotics, which included a lot of late nights memorizing anatomical models so..."

vi pulls you in for a kiss, laughing against your lips.

"you're amazing, y'know that?"

college roommate!vi who can't really believe how much she's lucked out, sharing an apartment with her girlfriend, who literally cannot shut up about you, but the rugby team all agree that they'd rather have this than the months of endless pining. who brags about her genius gf to anyone who'll listen, and looks for you in the stands of all her practice matches when you can make it, who kisses you in front of everyone even when you make a show of trying to wiggle away bc she's sweaty (you don't really care).

who loves telling the story of how you guys met bc she still can't quite believe it herself, and the story always starts with --

"well, actually -- we started off as roommates."

[heavenbarnes]

hmm thinking about older bf!simon who hasn’t really got his head around the whole sexting thing- the man had a flip phone before he met you.

he had, however, reluctantly gone out and got an android after a harmless conversation between the two of you.

“how am i meant to send you videos while you’re away if you have a flip phone, si?”

“videos of what?”

“guess.”

he virtually only uses the thing to get texts, calls, and videos of you fucking yourself in your shared bed whilst he’s deployed. he saves every video, which is a risky manoeuvre considering you haven’t taught him how to set a passcode yet (johnny catches a not-unwelcome eyeful when he goes looking for the directions he sent simon earlier)

older bf!simon is also a fantastic listener, when you tell him you want him to send pics but not ones that make his cock look like a dead fish. you give him strict instructions:

put your phone on self-timer, sit back, thighs spread, one hand around your cock, the other behind your head, you choose if your face is in it xox

man loves an order.

so whilst he’s away, you’re in the kitchen cooking up dinner-for-one and your phone buzzes on the counter- you drop the fucking pasta strainer straight on the floor when you unlock your phone.

simon’s face wasn’t necessarily in the photo, more so his mask. he was fully dressed, tactical gear (down to the vest) still on with a rifle leaning against his thigh. he was in the exact position you’d request, gloved fingers wrapped around the base of him with his other bicep firm behind his head.

you’re so busy saving the photo and staring back at it 100,000 times that you forget to respond. honestly, you forget how to function as your mouth goes dry and your eyes are unable to look at anything else.

simon hesitates on the other end, wondering if he’d fucked up- if he hadn’t followed the brief, if he’d embarrassed himself. thankfully, he knows he only has to ask.

“that what you were after, pet?”

the trepidation in his chest is replaced with a rapidly inflating ego.

“jesus christ, that’s exactly what i needed”

swapped out with slight confusion, but the ever present willingness to learn.

“you ever heard of a nut video with sound on?”

pt2

[shotmrmiller]

sex pollen trope where you're the one affected, having been exposed to some dense gas while on an op that felt like harsh sandpaper across your throat and lungs, and now you're a feverish mess on some ratty cot in a safe house and with only ghost as company, it's miserable, as the saying goes.

hair sticking to your sweaty skin, plastered onto your forehead and neck, every swallow feeling like you've got a mouthful of sand, your fluttering pulse wild and deafening in your ears, and the throbbing ache deep in your core, the blistering heat right below your navel— it'd only been uncomfortable in the beginning, the faint throbbing incredibly familiar, but the more you ignored it, the worse it got.

and now you're here, with arousal sticking your underwear to your pussy, unable to do anything about it because your lieutenant is seated in a corner that lets him have both you and the front door within his line of sight. a quick, discreet rub under your clothes is not an option.

someone put you out of your foggy misery.

"squirmin' like a worm on a 'ook isn't gonna help." his staring doesn't either, yet he does it anyway.

"got to make sure ya aren't dyin' on me." you want to snap that you don't think proof of life is on the darkened stain between your legs, the retort pressed behind clenched teeth but another thick wave of bestial need rolls over you and god, you're about to shove your hand into your underwear, propriety be damned—

"best you don't do tha'." why the fuck not? "you'll only get relief for a moment 'fore it comes back twofold." he says as if he's reading off the morning paper and not watching you fight tooth and nail to not fuck yourself against the pillow your head is on. (soap's offer to be friends with benefits is only looking better by the hour.)

you hastily decide that it'll be better than nothing. you'll just have to rub your pussy raw until this drug runs its course and you're telling him to piss off or don't, but you've had enough. you're stuck here with him anyway, no flight home until the morn and you're not about to spend it writhing around.

"if tha's wha' you want," ghost bites his gloves off, spitting them out onto the ground before curling his hands around your ankles and dragging you toward him. "i will help." your entire world narrows down to the feel of him touching your skin, his fingers searing as they hook into the waistband of your pants, and you almost kick him in the mouth trying to get them off faster.

"but 'm not fuckin' you." the bite of disappointment is quickly forgotten, his breath warm against your slick pussy, and after three quick glides of his tongue over your pearl, your orgasm crests, pulse after pulse of pleasure so potent it stung.

in less than a minute you're burning again, need thrumming through you and with the heady push and drag of his middle finger over your sensitive nerves, curling in you until he can fit two, three—

you're lost.

(ghost telling you that he's not doing anything else because if he's going to fuck you then you're going to remember it falls on ringing ears.)

[woahjo]

APHRODISIAC! (Bakugou x Reader)

masterlist 

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

Summary: Katsuki gets hit with an aphrodisiac quirk. You decide to check in on him. What could go wrong?

Chapter Content Warnings:  fem!reader, dubcon, smut, porn with little to no plot, aphrodisiac quirks, quirkless reader, prohero!katsuki, rough sex, borderline free use, biting, creampie, multiple orgasms (fem!receiving), masturbation, edging (kinda), manhandling, katsuki is dominant but also not idk he's desperate, possessiveness, overstimulation, size kink, scent kink, some light aftercare! woo hoo!, friends to lovers sort of

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: yeah ik this isn't what i typically write but idk where this came from. i had a thought and it spiraled bad and now i have this. there is no deeper message. there is no meaning. i wrote this to make him FUCK and be kinda weird and desperate and pathetic about it. i needed to see him physically overpower us while also so desperate that it makes him look stupid. i feel violent. this bad boy is not going on ao3 lol. anyway, enjoy, heed the warnings.

Katsuki paces around the one bedroom apartment he rents in downtown Musutafu. His skin is tingling. Every nerve he has burns like it's been set on fire, needing some sort of touch to soothe it. His cock aches between his legs, hard and leaking against the side of his thigh. Katsuki grits his teeth, running his hands over his hair and then letting his palms slide down the sides of his exposed biceps. 

Sweat collects on his skin, the kind that comes from desperation or maybe a fever, and he feels it on his palms when he lets them drop to his sides and clenches his fists. Fuck, he can't believe he got hit with a non-fatal quirk and had to be sent home. It's humiliating. What's worse is that it hasn't worn off yet, rendering him completely useless. 

He sits on his couch, his legs spread wide, and leans back against the couch cushions, wincing as he reaches to unbutton his pants. He's never been this sensitive in his life and it almost hurts to grab his cock and pull it from his pants. Katsuki watches it twitch for a moment, rigid between his legs and leaking pre-cum from its angry tip. He doesn't even have to think about anything in particular, he's just turned on. Unbearably so. 

Katsuki wraps his hand around the base of his cock and jerks upward once, sucking in a sharp breath through his teeth at his own sensitivity. Then, the desperation sets in fully and he squeezes the head of his cock with a wince and a low groan before beginning to slide his hand up and down. He pauses to spit into his palm, desperate for some sort of relief from the tension weaving its way through his body, his hand moving faster and fast over this dick. Katsuki only pauses when he touches his overly sensitive head, swallowing down an audible moan as he moves his hips to desperately fuck his fist. 

He tries not to think of the humiliation in this, instead focusing on chasing a high that seems to get farther and farther. He stays like this for a while, desperately fucking his fist with low groans and whines. His face is completely flushed, sweat beading on his brow and forehead, covering every inch of his skin with a pathetic, glowing sheen. God, he's almost fucking angry. The frustration, the sheer desperation for release, is making it difficult to control his temper and he knots his free hand into the soft pillow beside him, raising it to his face and using it to cover his head so he can be a little louder. 

He's desperately humping his fist when his doorbell rings. At first, it's only once and Katsuki thinks he can ignore it, but then it comes again, five more times and consistently more aggressive. 

"Katsuki?" your voice calls through the wood paneling of his door. "I heard you got hit with a quirk and sent home. Let me in." 

He furrows his eyebrows at the irony of the last person in the world he wants to encounter at a time like this. Pretty, quirkless, you. His long time friend and recent dispatcher at his agency. Someone he secretly wants to fuck even without the aphrodisiac quirk floating through his bloodstream. You really get under his skin. You’re exactly his type, right down to that annoying little attitude of yours that drives Katsuki insane. Of course, he's always respected your friendship a little too much to do anything about it, but tonight, he doesn't think he'll be able to and he sits in silence with his lip caught between his teeth while he fucks his fists and hopes you'll go away. 

"I know you're in there," you call again. "I can see the light on." 

You bang three times on the door and then ring the doorbell again, pushy and insistent the way you always are. A match for his stubborn attitude. 

Katsuki swears and stands up, his hands shaking as he tucks his sensitive cock back into his sweatpants and flips the head up into his waistband with a hiss. 

The crazy thing is, he can literally smell you through the door. The scent of you, that sweet and rounded perfume you wear, wafts under the crack of his apartment door. He pauses outside of it, resisting the temptation to open it, to welcome that smell into his apartment and use you to relieve the aching in his cock and lower belly. 

"Katsuki?" You ask, a little quieter now. 

Jesus fucking christ, don't call his name like that. 

He swings the door open, letting his hand rest on the side of it so that it is positioned above his head. You look taken aback at his appearance, covered in sweat and flushed from the neck up, his chest exposed and heaving. 

"What?" he says, looking you up and down. 

Katsuki bites back the urge to yank you in. Why is it he can literally smell the sweat on your body and every prick of your emotions? It's like he can tell exactly what you're thinking, or maybe it's what he wants you to be thinking. 

"Don't get on my ass about me still technically needing to be at work," you start, stepping forward. "I heard something happened and I just came to check and you look like shi-" 

Katsuki blocks you from coming in with his body. You stumble backwards lightly and raise your eyebrow at him. There's a pause as you register that you've just run into a solid wall of muscle, sweat covered and glistening, while Katsuki eyes you like you're meat on a platter. He knows he's doing it, but he can literally smell every turn of your scent, soft and sweet. And he may be fooling himself... but are you... turned on? 

"Let me in?" you say with a small laugh, side stepping to go around him. He blocks you again, his fingers gripping the door frame so hard that his knuckles are white. 

"Go home," he says quietly, his voice tense. 

"What? No," you furrow your eyebrows at him. "What's the matter with you?" 

You duck under his arm and place your hand momentarily on his chest. Your touch makes him tingle all over and he sucks in a sharp breath. 

"I'm not fucking around," he says. 

"Okay, me neither," you respond with a bit of an attitude. "I expected you to be worse for wear but you look like crap. Like you're... I don't know." 

You trail off a little. 

"Let me help," you say, shaking off whatever thought had come over you. "I'll make you some food." 

"Look, no offense, but I don't think you want to help me with this," he says, a frustrated bite in his voice. Food isn't exactly what he's hungry for. 

"That's too bad," you say slowly, seemingly put off by the desperate air about him and settling into his kitchen. You move to open the fridge.

Katsuki walks up to you quickly, taking your wrist from the door and holding it between the two of you. Cool air hits his exposed chest and arm as the door falls shut again. 

"I'm dead serious. Get the fuck out of here or I'm gonna do something I regret," he hisses through a clenched jaw. Your skin is warm on the pads of his fingers, wrist held flush against his palm. He bites back a genuine shudder. 

Your eyes are wide as you look back at him, glancing between where he's caught your wrist by your head and his eyes. Katsuki's gaze roams over your face, pausing as he hits the top of your blouse where a few buttons remain open. When he returns his eyes to yours, your mouth moves to open before a heady understanding settles over your features. You're so pretty. Everything about you is pretty, so delightful and delicate. Your eyes look glassy and wide. Katsuki has always found them tempting, but today he can't stop himself. 

He leans forward and kisses you, holding your wrist to his chest as his mouth comes messily into contact with yours. You squeak and freeze and it takes all he has to pull away from you. 

"Go home," he says again, his lips tingling. Katsuki feels the color creep onto his cheeks, his hand still holding your wrist. 

You don't say anything, looking at him with those pretty eyes. He swallows thick and feels the saliva drag against his throat. Then, his mouth dries completely, his expression twisting into discomfort as his cock throbs between his legs as the scent of you takes on a sharper turn. He's never felt anything like this before, something animal. 

Katsuki tightens his jaw, staring at you for a moment. Then, he takes a step towards you. You take one back, though he doesn't feel like you're afraid. Rather, you tilt your head down to look at him through your lashes. He lets out a breath through his teeth and walks you back until your ass hits the counter, his free hand coming to gingerly touch your waist. You inhale when he leans in to kiss you again, screwing your eyes shut and reaching to grab at his shoulder to pull him closer. 

Every touch tingles. It burns and he drops your wrist to manhandle your hips. You suck on his bottom lip, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down to you. He ruts his hips against yours, desperate for any sort of friction to relieve the ache, and you gasp a little and let your mouth fall open. Katsuki takes the opportunity to bite down hard on your lip with a low groan, slipping his tongue into your mouth as the pads of his fingers press harshly into you. You whine, eyebrows pulling up. 

Katsuki’s eyes are slightly open, just so that he can look at you. Every aspect of his senses feel heightened and the relief of your mouth far surpasses that of his hand over his throbbing cock only minutes earlier. 

He pants, taking your hips and lifting you onto the counter so that you’re seated, pulling away for just a moment to lift the hem of your shirt and expose your breasts. Katsuki puts his face on the pillowy tops of them, biting and sucking at the exposed skin as his hand teases its way up the skin of your back to unclasp it. He thinks you’re probably looking at him, but if you are, he doesn’t have the mind to care about what sort of behavior he’s exhibiting. He can practically smell how wet you are from just a little touching and if he weren’t so fucking desperate for a little relief, he’d tease you for a few hours just to watch your pussy drool over him. 

The cool air of his apartment hits your exposed nipples. Katsuki takes it upon himself, without even a second thought, to roll the hard bud under his tongue. He feels the way goosebumps rise on your skin, his hands coming to rest over the tops of your thighs. Katsuki bites lightly on your breast and you fucking whine at it, tipping your head back and rooting your hand into the tufts of his blonde hair. 

His cock jumps in his pants and he’s no doubt leaked enough to leave an evident wet spot against the gray of his sweatpants. He stands to his full height, pushing your skirt up and pressing the outline of his cock to your crotch. Heat bleeds through your panties, the kind that makes him feel like he’s going absolutely fucking insane. You gasp, putting your hands on his shoulders and pulling him close again. 

Katsuki’s mouth hits yours messily, breathing hard as he ruts his hips up against your crotch, pulling you forward on the counter so he can feel as much of the pillowy folds of your pussy through the thick fabric as possible. You let him take your bottom lip between his teeth, sharp canines digging into the wet flesh of your mouth. He whines— high-pitched, desperate sound—as you position your hips to press your crotch against the head of his cock. His head falls onto your chest, forehead resting against the hollow of your throat. Katsuki humps at you, pulling you against him to match the rhythm of his hips, grinding your clothed cunt over the bulge of his cock. It’s a desperate motion, completely subconscious as he lets the quirk he’s been hit with take the lead.

His fingers dip into the crease of your thigh, fumbling as they reach for the waistband of the panties you’re wearing. Katsuki’s desperation is so palpable that he finds himself panting as he slips his fingers into the sides of your underwear, yanking them down. You gasp at the force of it and he swears he hears a small tear as he pulls them from your cunt, the crotch sticking to the lips of your pussy. 

He leans his hips forward again, sliding his cock between your folds with a deep grunt. His mouth finds your neck and he bites along the side of it, lathing his tongue over your pulse point. It’s like he can taste you. Salt and that stupid perfume, collecting on his tongue as you dig your fingers into his back, his dick rutting restlessly against your clit. At one point, he almost slips in, his eagerness and your wetness making him careless. Katsuki sucks in a breath through his teeth, his whole body on fire. 

The kitchen light shines down on his back and he can see the outline of part of his shadow on your thighs as he stares down at them, guiding the tip of himself to your entrance. He hears you wine when he presses against it and moves his hand down subconsciously to rub at your clit. An attempt to ease the stretch. 

You tip your head back in a moan and Katsuki takes the opportunity to kiss your neck before settling his teeth against your shoulder and biting down harshly on the muscle connecting your neck and arm. You yelp at the sensation and Katsuki shutters at the sound, willing out a choked I’m sorry as he slides into your wetness. His hands push into the delightfully soft flesh of your upper thighs, the fat spilling up around each individual digit as he uses your legs for leverage, sliding you forward even further to better seat you on him. 

Your legs are shaking and he can feel the way your nails dig into his exposed shoulder blades. Your bunch up skirt causes the fat of your tummy to fold over in a way that practically makes Katsuki drool. He urges himself to pause, attempting to come back to his senses as the quirk kicks into high gear. There’s relief in being inside of you, in feeling the flutter of your walls around his thick cock, but it also makes him desperate. Katsuki feels like he’s chasing something that he was desperately and it’s just out of his reach. 

You’re breathing heavily above him, he can see the rise and fall of your chest from where his head hangs down, his hands trembling on the tops of your thighs. He looks up at you through his lashes, his vision foggy around the edges as if he were peering through a tube. You’re at the end of it, your eyes glassy and mouth open, returning the look. Your eyebrows are knitted up in pleasure, but you almost seem confused. 

“What are you waiting for?” You breathe out, the first thing you’ve said since he started touching you. 

The tone of your voice is needy, with a delightful whiny lilt that makes him groan out loud. He can barely manage the words that come out next, his brain half mush, and he feels the way his cock jumps inside of you. 

“Don’t wanna hurt you,” he says through gritted teeth, his breath coming heavy. 

There’s a pause and he feels the distinct sensation of you squeezing down around his cock, like the idea turns you on. 

“Use me,” you respond cautiously, your voice still containing that needy lilt. 

Katsuki’s hips fuck up into you voluntarily and he feels the way his breath catches in his throat at the near desperate sound of your voice.

“Say that again.” 

“Use me, Katsuki,” you respond, choking on your words as he fucks his hips up into you. 

You reach for his face, taking it in your hands and drawing it close until it’s just in front of yours. Then, your palms slide down his shoulders and he screws his eyes shut and fucks into you again, harder this time, causing your body to jolt upwards on the counter. 

He curses under his breath, pushing one leg further to the side and fucking his hips up into you roughly. You’re looking right at him, your expression drawn and pleasure-soaked, sweat collecting on your forehead as your mouth drops open into an o-shape. You punctuate his thrusts with high pitched yelps, squeaking out your pleasure and the deepness of where he’s hitting through choked moans. 

Katsuki’s hands move up your stomach to roughly cup your breasts, his mouth so close to yours that he’s practically breathing in the sounds you make in exchange for his own hurried groans. He kneads at the fat of your chest, rolling your breast under his fingers before taking your nipples and pulling lightly on them. 

He’s aware of just how rough he’s being, just how hard his hips are slapping yours, but he feels like he can’t stop. Katsuki chases a high so fucking desperate that his body is on autopilot, reaching and touching and moaning unabashedly as the room fills with the wet sound of his balls on the backs of your thick thighs. 

You push your chest forward towards him, legs spread wide to make room for the width of his hips between yours as he bullies that perfect sensitive spot inside of you. Katsuki feels the way he makes you flutter. Every shift of your body, every involuntary squeeze of your cunt as he drags his cock along your walls, registers as if he were a part of you. His skin tingles everywhere you touch and the drag of your nails over his shoulder blades makes him want to crawl into the deepest part of you. Even the sound of your voice, drawn and desperate and mildly overwhelmed, feels like a drug to him. Every sense he has seems to be acutely attuned to just how badly he needs to fuck your lights out. 

His hands slink down to your hips, resituating you and pulling you flush against him. Then, he drags his cock all the way out of you and quickly ruts back in, moaning as he does. His pace picks up, manhandling you forward on the counter until he is supporting most of your weight. You gasp, your hands gripping his shoulders as you let him use you like a toy. 

Katsuki chases his high, his stomach seeming to wind tighter and tighter but never finding that perfect snap and release. His movements grow faster, using all of his strength to fuck his hips up into you, barreling his cock against your gummy walls and bullying your sweet spot. He feels the way you tighten down around him, your body tensing and fingers digging crescent moons into the tops of his shoulders. 

“Ka-” you choke out desperately, your voice breaking. “Wait, Katsuki, wait! I’m gonna-” 

You shudder, your thighs squeezing around him as he continues to fuck you. 

“Do it,” he seethes, “just fuckin’ do it.” 

The end of his sentence comes out as more of a whimper as you cry out and squeeze down around him, squirming in his grasp as you begin to twitch with every additional thrust. Your body shakes, legs locking around him and struggling to hold him inside as he fucks you clear through your orgasm and then to the other side. 

Katsuki’s voice breaks, almost whimpering like an animal as he buries himself in your pussy over and over again. He wants to smother you, he wants to completely cover your body and get as close as he possibly can. He’s already so much bigger than you, so much broader, how hard could it be to swallow you completely? 

Katsuki’s hands come up under your ass as he wordlessly lifts you from the counter and moves to the couch on desperate, shaky steps. He lays you down, slipping out of you for a moment, before pressing a hand to the inside of your thigh, spreading your legs, and sinking his cock back into you as he crowds his body over yours. 

“You know what?” He says, not really sure what’s going to come next. His head is so clouded with the quirk that he can’t think straight. “I’ve wanted to do this forever. I’ve wanted to fuck you for so- long-” 

He screws his eyes shut, almost angry with the way he can’t seem to hit that high, teetering on a desperate and near painful edge. 

“Those fuckin’ pencil skirts,” he says, unable to control his words or sharp tone. “The way you wear your hair, that damn look in your eye that constantly makes you seem like you’re beggin’ for it.” 

Katsuki whines, a sharp sound from the back of his throat, as you tighten up around him. He meets your gaze, clouded and watery eyes accented by the delightful furrow in the center of your brow. 

“And then you show up here,” he groans, not even sure of what he’s really saying. “Blouse unbuttoned, looking for trouble. I’m gonna fuck your lights out. ‘Till you can’t even think about fuckin’ anyone else.” 

He leans in close, his mouth right up against yours. 

“This is g’nna make you mine, right?” 

You nod, your movements clumsy, and pull him close to you. 

Katsuki loses all of his sense, burying himself in the feel of your pussy and the way he sinks into you, giving into the desperation of the quirk. He can feel just how deep he’s hitting, the way you suck in sharp, whiny breaths with every inward thrust. Katsuki’s hands grip your waist, pulling your ass up off the couch so that his angle is better. 

His cock seems to drag endlessly against your overstimulated, pillowy, insides and you practically drool around. He feels like a dog slobbering over meat, any semblance of politeness completely gone from both his expression and his movements. This is going to fucking ruin your friendship, but he doesn’t even have half of a mind to think about it, so drawn into the delightful feel of your body and the aching in his cock that only seems to subside slightly with every thrust. 

You try to choke out the word “again” and he feels like he knows what’s coming. Your whole body tenses, legs locking around him as you cream over his cock for the second time. 

This seems to get Katsuki somewhere, the sensation of your pussy clamping down finally giving him some leeway to relief. He hits the edge of an orgasm, leading himself to the finish line. 

The tension in his belly grows, cock twitching inside of your fucked out cunt. His fingers dig into your hips and he collapses forward, rolling his body so that the head of his cock catches perfectly inside of you, massaging and churning you up. You’re moaning, though maybe it’s more adjacent to whining, and Katsuki can hear himself mimicking the sounds, his body leading the way. 

Then finally, on a pathetic and broken whimper, Katsuki cums. His whole body tenses, weight pressing down on you as he buries his face into your neck and lets his voice out beside the hollow of your throat. The relief and pleasure is so intense that Katsuki feels the way every muscle in his body tenses and lets go, filling you up with as much of him as he has to give. 

His hips continue to pathetically rut into you, little choked moans escaping his lips as he uses his own cum as lube for his weak little thrusts. Then, he completely relaxes. 

Katsuki feels the way his skin stops burning, the way the desperation at the back of his throat subsides, how his body rids itself of the quirk as quickly as the arousal came on. He shudders, coming back to himself and raising his head to peer at your expression. 

You look exhausted, hair a mess and face covered in a thick sheen of sweat. You still flutter around his cock, your hands gripping his shoulders as you try and ride through the overstimulation of just having him inside of you. Katsuki furrows his brows, exhaustion creeping into his muscles. He raises his hand and uses it to push stray strands of hair from your face with his palm on your forehead. Then, with a clear mind, he leans forward and kisses you. 

You blink at him for a second, before giving a weak smile, raising your eyebrows and letting your head fall to the side. Katsuki winces when he pulls out of you, sucking in a sharp breath and standing to his full height. He places a hand on his forehead like he’s assessing the situation, staring at your body, still fully clothed with your skirt pushed all the way up your stomach and your blouse missing a button at the top. 

He wordlessly walks to the bathroom and wets a washcloth with warm water, walking back over to you and wiping down the exposed parts of your body. You don’t really say anything to him, but you smile quietly while he gingerly wipes you down, your smeared makeup accenting just how much of a mess he’s made. 

“Fuck,” he says. “I’m sorry, this isn’t how-” 

“How you wanted this to go?” You say softly, the corners of your lips turning up. 

Katsuki feels the way he flushes, all the way to the tops of his chest. 

“No, it’s not,” he admits, running a hand over his face as he crouches beside you. 

You laugh a little and he furrows his brows at you, frustrated and embarrassed. 

“You’ve got a bit of a possessive streak, huh?” You tease lightly.

“I got hit with some asshole’s fuckin’ quirk and-” he begins explaining himself, something he probably should have done when you showed up at the door. 

“It was good though,” you say, tilting your head at him from where you lay.

Katsuki blinks at you, his expression completely flat. You should really know just how fucking crazy you drive him. Then, he scowls a little, not because he’s upset, but because he’s currently feeling the opposite and that makes him awkward. 

“You’re into that shit?” He says, a bit incredulously. 

You shrug and give him a coy smile.