#sorry i just [clenches fists] love fantasy so fucking much

[asterdeer]

bg3 is reminding me that secondary world fantasy is actually my one true love in the whole wide world and that i almost never read it anymore because i feel like i should read Better Shit than high fantasy because somehow i, writer who has dedicated their life to writing fantasy of varying heights, has swallowed the "fantasy is the lowest form of fiction" bullshit and i'm not being a good person if i read a lot of it. anyway i'm reading the eragon books again because i've a massive headache, i am not beholden to make good reading choices at all times, and because one of the angst-causers in later books is a magical grammar mistake gone rogue. i remember tons of people bitching about that but i think it's one of the funniest damn things i've ever read and also if i could do magic i would also be terrified of doing a Heinous Thing because of tenses or whatever. my GOD imagine ruining a child's life because of magical grammar. you can tell he was in college when he wrote this. favorite bad series of all time. BBEG's legend includes being kicked in the balls. nasuada's there. what else do you want? the writing to be good? grow up

[loveandpeaceanddoughnuts]

Nanami x Reader ~ Kento's Stress Toy

feat: fluff and smut, established relationship, body writing, rough sex, loving sex, praise, overstimulation, light bondage // wc: 4170 // [ao3]

Nanami was working overtime again. You both hated when it had to happen, and on a Friday after a particularly long week? Your poor husband would be coming home exhausted and cranky.

Not that he was ever mean to you, of course. In fact, sometimes you wished he would be just a little bit meaner. You fantasized about him taking out his frustration on you, using his chiseled body to fuck you like a pretty little toy.

It wasn’t your fault that he looked so goddamn sexy when he was mad. His brows would furrow, sharp cheekbones somehow even more prominent as he clenched his jaw. His broad hands, always so gentle with you, would curl into fists, and you couldn’t help imagining what it would feel like to have that fist in your hair, yanking your head back as he railed you…

Heat pooled in your belly as you indulged in the fantasy for the hundredth time. You wanted to see that side of Nanami, wanted to feel it. After all, he kept things so bottled up. It would do your husband good to work out some tension, right?

—

Nanami was exhausted and beyond tense when he finally came home. He couldn’t shed his work stress at the door as he usually did, his broad shoulders still hunched around his ears as he slowly loosened his tie and toed off his dress shoes.

“Honey, I’m home,” he called as he made his way through the kitchen, smiling tiredly as he saw that you’d put the kettle on for the two of you.

“I’m in here, Ken!” You called from the bathroom, frantically scribbling the last letters of your surprise in eyeliner. You eyed yourself approvingly in the mirror before slipping your clothes back on and heading out to meet him with a kiss.

“I missed you so much,” he murmured, pulling you into his arms. He relaxed just a fraction as he inhaled your scent, tucking his face into your neck. “I’ve had the longest day.”

You hummed. “I’m listening, baby. Tell me all about it.” He followed you into the kitchen, leaning against the counter as he watched you make tea. You pushed a mug into his hands before hopping onto the counter opposite him.

Nanami closed his eyes appreciatively as he sipped his tea. “Perfect as always, my dear.” He sighed, running a hand over his face. “I don’t know what they want from me at that damn office. Actually, I do know, and it’s ridiculous. The sales goals are impossible to meet for anyone with a conscience.”

“Oh?” You had heard this before, but sometimes marriage meant letting your husband repeat himself. And if he worked himself up, so much the better for your little plan.

“Yes. They are. And my boss berated me in front of the whole team for trying to be honest with a new hire about the way things work.” He shook his head, gaining steam. “It’s completely unfair. The whole goddamn system.” Nanami scowled into his mug.

“I’m so sorry, my love. That sounds awful.”

Nanami moved closer to you, nestling himself between your legs and leaning against your chest. Atop the kitchen counter was one of the few places you could be taller than your mountain of a husband, and you never wasted the opportunity. You ran your hand through his hair, scratching gently at his undercut.

“It’s the weekend, my love,” you murmured. “You don’t have to think about those bastards again for a few days. It’s just you and me.”

He softened a bit. “Just you and me, hm? Forgive me, dear. You know I hate bringing work home.”

“Nothing to forgive.” You bit your lip. This is where you’d make your move. “I just wish there was something I could do to help relax you.”

He had been with you long enough to recognize the suggestive lilt in your voice. “Oh, do you? You’re sweet, love. But there’s nothing to be done.”

“Nothing at all?” You ask, tugging at the buttons on his collar.

He tilted his head, wordlessly allowing you access to begin undoing them. You smooth your fingertips over the freckles at his neck, the collarbone constellations you love so much.

You’re halfway down his chest when he catches your wrists in one hand, an apologetic smile on his lips. “I adore you, but I don’t think I’m exactly in the mood to make love. I don’t want any thoughts of work to distract me from you.”

“Who said we had to make love?” You lean back to look him in the eyes as you offer the challenge, relishing the flush that crawls up his cheeks.

“Angel…”

“I mean it, Kento. I want you to use me.” Heat pools in your stomach at the vulnerable words. “Use me to fuck out all your tension, all the work bullshit. I’m all yours.”

Nanami’s wide eyes drink you in, his heart pounding. He couldn’t hide how much your words affected him, least of all how painfully hard he suddenly was, cock jumping against his slacks.

You pressed your hand against his growing bulge with a soft smile. You knew all his weaknesses. “Please, baby. I wanna make you feel good.”

He pressed his forehead against yours with a ragged sigh. “You undo me, you know that?”

You guided his hands to your waist, lifting your hips so he could pull off your shorts. He huffed a laugh against your neck. “Eager, are we?”

You bit your lip, hardly able to contain your excitement as he grew closer to unveiling your surprise. “Yes, take them off already…”

You felt him smile against your skin as he finally stripped them off, rubbing teasing circles against your cunt through your damp panties.

“Those too,” you whined, bucking your hips against his hand.

“Such a needy little thing,” he murmured, gently teasing as he slid them off. You watched his face, rewarded with the sight of your stoic husband’s mouth falling open. His fingers dug into your hips unconsciously, hard enough to bruise, and you loved it.

“M-my love,” he breathed, eyes locked on what you’d written in black eyeliner just above your cunt.

Kento’s Stress Toy.

He released one of your hips to trace the words with shaky fingers, his touch almost reverent. “What is this?”

You smiled up at him, cheeks burning with exhilaration. “It’s the truth. I’m your stress toy tonight, Ken.”

He closed his eyes and swore under his breath. “I…I don’t want to disrespect you, angel.”

“But I want you to,” you whispered. You pulled him closer by the speckled tie that still hung loose around his neck. “I know you love me. And I love you…all of you.” You let your hungry gaze fall on his tense muscles, the way his shirt strained at his shoulders. “I want to feel all of you. If you’ll give it to me.”

He watched as you slowly lifted your shirt, letting your breasts fall out. One was adorned with the word “fuck”, and the other with “doll”, your handwriting curling along the top of each tit.

Nanami groaned , the sound going straight to your aching cunt. He roughly palmed your breasts, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. “Oh, my dear …”

“Your doll ,” you correct, gently tugging his lip free with a smirk. “Will you play with me?”

“God yes.” Nanami scooped you off the counter and into his arms, heading straight for the bedroom as you clung to him and giggled.

You hadn’t even made it through the doorway when he crashed his lips into yours, rough and needy. His tongue swiped against your bottom lip impatiently, pushing into your mouth. “You taste perfect, my love,” he breathed, “but I need more…” 

He crossed the room and dropped you onto the bed, shoving a pillow underneath your hips as he rolled you onto your stomach. He settled himself behind you, his weight sagging the mattress so you were pulled even closer to him. He surveyed you with a low groan, drinking in the lewd sight of your ass up and your dripping, exposed cunt. 

“May I?” He always asked before he tasted you, but his voice was strained tonight, eyes locked on your glistening pussy. 

“ Please, ” you sighed, hardly able to draw a breath before Nanami was devouring you. He was messy , dragging his nose against your slit as he lapped up the slick that was already spiderwebbing between your thighs. When you tensed your legs reflexively he pulled away with a pout.

“Said you were gonna be my toy , hm love?” He held your thighs in a bruising grip and pried your legs apart. “Need to relieve my stress, right?” Your face was pressed against the bed but you could still feel the weight of his stare. He was practically panting for you, and you suddenly wondered if you’d be able to handle what you’d be wanting so badly.

With your legs held out of the way he dove back in, flattening his tongue against your lips in long, languid strokes before licking into your sopping cunt. “Be a good girl and keep these open,” he murmured as he gave your thigh a light smack, grinning as you trembled from the impact. 

He brushed the back of his hand against your lips, spreading them open and dipping his knuckles into you as he kept his tongue working. 

“Oh please, baby, fill me,” you babbled, but he was already there, sliding two thick fingers into your cunt effortlessly. He pulled his face away to look up at you adoringly. 

“Look how good you are for me. Needed me that bad?” His lips were glossed in your essence, a string of slick still connecting them to you as he pumped his fingers with a wet smacking sound. 

“Yes, hah-fuck- needed you…wan’ you to use me, angel…”

“I know love, I know.” He added a third finger, grinning at the gasp it tore from you as he sucked your clit into his mouth. “And I will, soon as you come on my face, okay?”

“This is…s’posed to be about you ,” you protested weakly, finding it hard to argue when he had you melting underneath him.

“I know, my darling. So sweet of you to offer yourself as a pretty little present for me. My naughty little wife, knowing I had such a long, hard day…” his eyes darkened, wanting to rail into you right then and there, but he caught himself with the superhuman restraint you so hated and admired. “But first I have to get you ready to take me, don’t I? Want you all warmed up so I can fuck you exactly how I want.” 

He pressed sloppy kisses to your cunt, sucking at your clit as he stretched your needy hole around his fingers. Scissoring them in and out of you, heavy-lidded eyes on the way you coated him with your arousal. He reached up to press his dripping fingers to your lips, shoving them against your tongue. “Clean your mess.”

You sucked at him eagerly, ignoring the strain in your neck as you twisted back to face him. He dragged his sharp jaw between your thighs, suckling and nipping at the sensitive skin. 

“Come for me, beautiful. Come so I can fuck my toy,” he purred, flicking his tongue against your clit faster and faster in the rhythm he knew you loved. 

“Ken, don’t stop, please, I’m…!!” You saw stars as you crumpled into the bed, your orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave. Your legs shook at the force of it, but Nanami didn’t slow his assault, still rolling his tongue over you as you bucked into his mouth. 

“ Ugh it’s too much, I can’t,” you protested weakly, struggling to your knees as you tried to crawl away from his greedy tongue. 

“Ah ah, beautiful. You’re all mine, remember?” He locked his strong forearms around your thighs, holding you down. “You’re not going anywhere.” He buried his face between your legs again, licking up higher and higher, lapping up every drop of your release. 

He pulled you tighter against him, your ass practically smothering him as you were forced to arch your back harder, grateful for the pillow he’d balanced you on. “Mmmm that’s it baby, grind on my tongue.”

Your face burned at the words, but he was already lifting you effortlessly, rocking you back against his face in a steady rhythm that had his tongue slipping deep into your cunt.

You hardly had a chance to breathe before your second orgasm was creeping up on you, an overwhelming intensity that you were helpless to escape from as Nanami held you to himself. He kept going even as you shuddered into another peak, his hands kneading into the fat of your hips and ass. 

Your vision went fuzzy as you scrabbled at the bedsheets, desperately trying to cling to something, anything to ground you. Overstimulated tears pooled in your eyes, every nerve ending on fire with the intensity of your pleasure. 

Hoarse, fucked-out moans were all you could manage in response to Nanami’s stream of praises, telling you how good you were, how pretty you looked gushing for him. He finally pulled away with one last soft kiss to your hole, making it clench around nothing. 

“You’re so perfect, love,” he sighed, smoothing his hands over your hair, your back, brushing his lips over your neck. “You’re not done yet, are you?” He pulled off his tie in one smooth motion, trailing the fabric down your spine to watch you squirm. “I’ve had such a very long day. I’ve been so tense , my dear.”

“Not done,” you panted, turning onto your back and reaching up to cup his cheek. He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes. You pulled his hand down to trace the words you had written on your skin again, reminding him of what you were. All his. 

“That’s my girl,” he murmured. He slipped his tie around your wrists, pulling them together in a loose hold. He slowly stretched your arms above your head, pinning your wrists easily with one hand. He trailed his mouth back down your arms, gentle kisses and nips at the soft skin until his face hovered over yours. 

“Are you ready, darling? I’m going to take you up on your very generous offer.” Your husband’s soft eyes glinted with something sharp as he freed himself from his slacks. 

You nodded, feeling your wrecked cunt start to throb again at the sight of his cock, achingly hard and drooling pre already. As much as he’d already done to you, though, you still had a few cards to play. 

You wriggled your wrists out of his grip, still bound by his tie, and reached down to stroke his cock. Lightly at first, watching through your eyelashes as he threw his head back, throat bared and jaw clenched. You gently pulled him closer, slotting his swollen head between your folds, just barely letting him press into you. 

Nanami hissed through his teeth, dark eyes desperate as you teased him. “My love, don’t, hah - don’t be mean , I need you too badly…”

Electricity surged up your spine at his neediness. This was exactly where you’d wanted him. “I won’t be mean, baby, that’s your job tonight. Why don’t you tell me about your day?”

“My day,” he huffed an impatient laugh. “You know how it was. It was shit.” He bucked his hips against you, trying to get deeper, but you held him back, still stroking his tip and nothing more. You were lying in a pool of your own slick now, torturing yourself as much as him. 

“Oh?” You rocked your hips forward suddenly, forcing his whole head into you, then went still again. 

Nanami whimpered . “What do you want me to say? Work is shit .” His hands were trembling, clenching and unclenching at his sides as he watched where you dragged him against yourself. 

“That’s it, baby. Aren’t you frustrated? Don’t you want to let your fuck doll make it all better?” Your words were calculated, flung at him with the most seductive look you had in your arsenal, lips pursed in an empty-headed little pout that you knew he had a guilty weakness for. If you knew your Kento, he wouldn’t be able to resist… there. 

Nanami surged forward, pushing your hands out of the way and back above your head, your back arching obscenely as he slammed himself to the hilt in your cunt. “This is what you wanted my dear, isn’t it? This is what you’ve been waiting for,” he growled, not needing an answer. He kneaded your tits, the fuck doll label smearing under his touch. 

He shoved your knees up to your ears, nearly folding you in half as he rutted into you with a force you’d never felt, hips smacking against yours with bruising strength. 

“Work.” “Was.” “Shit.”

He punctuated each word with a sharp spank to your ass. He roughly palmed the reddening skin, swallowing your cries with a messy, open-mouthed kiss. He buried his face in your neck as he kept up a punishing rhythm, heavy balls slapping against you with each mean thrust. 

“All fucking day I have to listen to idiots tell me what to do. All fucking day I have to sit in a cubicle, ripping people off…” he pulled out slowly, dragging his cock against your walls so you could feel every throbbing vein. 

“And you know what I think about all fucking day, my love?” He whispered the pet name into your ear, making you shiver. “What keeps me going?”

“This.” 

He slammed into you without warning, every inch bullying into you, the breath ripped from your lungs. When he bottomed out he held you there, grinding against you, making you clench and twitch against the sheer depth of him, filling you impossibly deep. 

“I think about this . About coming home to my pretty wife and fucking her senseless .” His whispers were harsh against your neck, his voice ragged. Your mouth was stretched in a scream, sure you’d wake the neighbors if not for your husband’s heavy hand coming down on your mouth. 

“You’re always so good for me, always so happy to see me…sometimes I wish I could show those fucks at the office exactly what I come home to, just to watch them burn with jealousy.” His kisses grew rougher, sucking and biting at your neck, laying claim to your skin. 

“Wish I could mark you up like this and have you come visit me the next day, wearing some tight, low-cut dress that shows them all exactly how you’re mine. How little anything else could possibly matter to me…” he shudders against you, his fantasy overwhelming. “Maybe have you crawl under my desk and take care of me right there, since you wanna be my little stress toy, hm?” 

Your mind is scattered, trying desperately to focus on his words and the increasingly difficult act of staying sane as he fucks you into oblivion. Your eyes roll back as another orgasm builds, his cock reaching a secret spot deep inside of you, sending you over the edge again. 

The new height of pleasure makes you stupid, babbling into his chest as he fucks you through it, gasping for air from the press of him folding you in half. “Yes, please Ken, I’d do it, wanna be your fuck doll, need this, need you, need… nnghhh! ” 

“That’s it gorgeous, my beautiful toy, my perfect love, come on my cock, come from me using you like this…” Nanami’s brows are knit together, his face twisted with concentration as he pumps into you again and again and again, his rhythm never faltering, he’s nothing if not consistent, ramming into your sweet spot over and over until you’re not sure where you start and he ends. 

The base of his cock is decorated with a soft white ring of the cream that’s still leaking out of you, and he moans at the sight. “God you’re such a mess for me, I don’t think I’ve ever felt you this wet, darling…” He smiles down at you, looking angelic even as he tries to break the bed in half. “And from writing such filthy things on your perfect body…you were soaked just waiting for me to come home and see this, weren’t you? Naughty little thing.” 

You moan helplessly in answer, unable to deny it. This was everything you’d wanted and more. Your eyes slide shut of their own volition, and he gently taps your cheek. “Oh no, my dear, not yet. Don’t worry, I won't break my toy.” He slows, just barely, letting you breathe. 

He traces his fingertips over the words between your hips again, reverent. “What does this say again, angel? What are you?”

“Kento’s stress toy…” you murmur. 

“Mmm, that’s right. And you’re being such a good one,” he praised. “My brilliant wife, with such wonderful ideas.” He kisses you softly on the lips, the tenderness almost shocking. “Can you be a good toy for a little bit longer?”

You nod your head eagerly, though you don’t think you can move much else. Your arms and legs feel like (well-fucked) jello, the tie around your wrists almost forgotten in the sea of other, stronger sensations. 

Nanami seems to remember it at the same moment, tsking apologetically as he slips it off of you and rubs your arms. “Are your wrists okay, my love?” 

You almost laugh at the sudden return of soft, protective Kento. “Yes, they’re fine. It’s all fine. I feel amazing.” 

“You are amazing,” he soothes. “In that case, can you hold on to me?” He drapes your arms over his neck, holding himself steady against your hips. 

“Just like that.” And he’s fucking you again, in the way only he can, fast and hard and precise. You’re grateful for the grip around his neck as he pulls you up and over his lap, lifting and dropping you onto his cock like you’re weightless. 

“Kento ohhhh!!” You dig your nails into his back instinctively, biting back a scream as you feel his cock jump inside of you in response. You don’t need to be told twice, raking your nails over his back as he uses you mercilessly. 

He’s back to muttered praises, his honey-silk voice adoring as his cock splits you in half. You’re drunk on the dichotomy, dizzy with lust and love for the man beneath you. 

He leans forward and tips you back onto the bed, his muscled arms caging you in as he continues pistoning into you. Sweat drips from his face to yours, and you dart your tongue out to lick the droplets away. Somehow, that of all things makes him blush, dark red dusting his cheeks as he watches the act. 

You reach a shaky hand up to brush back the strands of hair that have fallen into his eyes, and he catches your arm to press greedy kisses to the inside of your wrist. 

“Ken- Kento, I love you,” you moan, every stroke of his cock sending electricity down your limbs, your whole body tuned to him, undone and rewired in ecstasy. 

“I love you,” he groans, pressing his face into the crook of your neck, his powerful thrusts finally, finally stuttering as he nears his peak. “I love you, I love you, I love you, fuck I love you…” 

Nanami came with a broken cry, his cock pumping what seemed like an endless stream of hot, thick seed into the deepest part of you, his arms shaking from the effort of keeping himself up. You pulled him down onto you, stroking at his hair as he shuddered in the aftermath of his orgasm. 

You lay there in blissful quiet, sweat and slick sticking your skin together, feeling each other’s wild heartbeats begin to slow. Nanami reluctantly pulled out of you with an over-sensitive groan and curled into your side, his head on your chest. You ran your hands over his hair, his neck, his back, proud to feel the tension slowly leave his tired body. 

“Do you feel better, Kento?” You asked, happily exhausted. 

He laughed out loud, wrapping his arms around you and shifting to curl you into his side. “I’ve never been more relaxed in my life, my love. I can’t even remember what I do for work.” He kissed the top of your head and sighed contentedly. “You were incredible. Thank you, darling.” He pulled you closer. “I think I might be out sick on Monday, for that matter…”

You pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “I’ll always be your stress relief, my love.”

“And I’ll be yours,” he smiled. “What did you use to write this, anyway?” 

“Oh it’s an old eyeliner!” Your laugh turned into a yawn. 

“Mm, good to know. For when I return the favor,” Nanami said, but you were already fast asleep in his arms. 

[depravitycentral]

Yandere! Shouta Aizawa NSFW Profile

Yandere! Shouta Aizawa x fem! reader

Tw: mentions of dub-con, masturbation, stalking, kidnapping, voyeurism, toys, clothed sex, hair-pulling, this one is actually kind of soft and feels less yandere-y to me so sorry that this one is a little less creepy than normal, Shouta is a pleaser and lives for your praise, he gets off with a blanket you gifted him, very mild somnophilia, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

WC: 12K

HABITS

In general, Shouta isn’t that perpetually horny. He’s a busy man with constant stress weighing on his shoulders; working as a pro while being a full-time teacher leaves him drained during the few times he gets to relax, and it’s a lot of work to get himself hard, to get off, and to clean up afterwards.

It’s just not worth it to him – especially because it’s a bit sad to be left with just his fist and some low-grade, unrealistic porn as a man in his thirties, isn’t it?

He doesn’t have a partner, and hasn’t had one for quite some time – there was a girl a decade or so ago, but she didn’t last long, and the sex was subpar at best. And so, Shouta finds himself neglecting any sort of sexual activity most nights that he’s off work, not bothering to get himself all worked up and fuck away some of that pent up stress.

Except, then you show up.

His feelings for you form, and although it takes a long time for them to solidify, it takes an even longer time for them to turn lewd, any sort of sexual thought involving you not really taking root into he’s much further into his obsession.

This is for a few reasons – firstly, he just doesn’t have that high of a libido, and while seeing you naked when he’s watching from outside your window certainly gets him hot and bothered, he isn’t constantly fantasizing about bending you over and fucking you until you’re screaming his name.

(Not never, just not constantly – and at inopportune moments, sometimes. Moments where he really should be focused on the mountains of paperwork on his desk, not focused on how the desk is the perfect height for you to be standing on your tiptoes, ass poised out and your chest pressed against the hard wooden lacquer, your soft skin glistening in the dim light and your pretty thighs twitching and quivering as his fingers press deeper and deeper and deeper -)

Secondly, Shouta’s already feeling such crippling guilt regarding his infatuation with you that adding on overt sexual fantasies for you would push him too far. He already hates that he thinks of you constantly, that he’s always idly worrying about your safety, wanting to know your location and who you’re with and what you’re doing.

He already dislikes that he can’t stop himself from swinging by your apartment at the end of his patrols, making sure that you’re in your bed asleep, safe and sound and looking so fucking pretty in the moonlight. He doesn’t like how wrapped around your finger you have him, so how could he justify wringing himself dry to you, depraved fantasies running through his mind as he imagines the way you’d cream on his fingers, how you’d clench down on him so, so tightly when he fucks you just right?

Shouta can’t – it would breach too many protocols of trust, the friendship formed between the two of you precarious enough as it is with Shouta’s obsessive, disturbing feelings. He doesn’t think of you sexually, banishing every thought from his mind the moment it appears.

Or, at least, that’s what he wishes could be true – unfortunately, his hormones get the better of him sometimes, leaving him rolling around in his bed, cock painfully hard and his mind insistently flashing images of you changing behind his eyelids.

He’s embarrassed, more than anything, that he doesn’t have enough self control to successfully halt any lewd thoughts of you – it’s pathetic, really, because is he so desperate to touch you that he literally can’t stop himself?

Is he really so painfully, pitifully aroused by you that just the mere idea of you licking your lips or smiling at him can get him breathing hard, thankful for the bagginess of his pants?

He hates that the answer is yes, that his body is really that pent up and eager to get you under him, naked and soft and pretty, all for him and only him. It’s demoralizing, but Shouta only has so much restraint – he tries to hold out for as long as he can, really. He swears.

It’s torture at first, popping melatonin and chugging Nyquil, hoping he’ll be able to pass out and sleep off the horniness, but it never quite works. Instead, his dreams are full of you – on your knees, sucking him off so well that your cheeks are literally hollowing, drool spilling down your chin, a string of saliva and precum connecting your puffy lips to his swollen tip when you pull off for air.

He’ll dream of you on your hands and knees, peeking back at him with glassy eyes and biting your lip, clearly embarrassed as you ask him to touch me, please Shouta, I need you…

He always wakes up with soiled sheets, his entire pelvis sticky with now cold cum, and it becomes very, very difficult to look you in the eye that day, only able to conjure up the image of you all tied up in his scarf, your breasts perfectly framed and your thighs spread, slick covering them as you whine his name, desperate for him.

And though he tries to stave off, not letting himself actively fantasize about you sexually while he’s conscious, a particularly rough day of teaching and patrol have him giving up, throwing caution to the wind as he decides that he needs this, that a release is the only way he’ll be able to stay sane.

In the past, the few times he’s masturbated he’s always just fucked his fist, not needing anything too fancy. But for you, something about that feels disrespectful – it’s stupid and he knows it, but the idea of just thrusting into his hand over and over until he eventually spills all over his knuckles seems tacky, low-class, almost offensive to your image, like he’s tarnishing you and the way he idolizes you.

So, he relies on the next best thing he can scrounge up – you’d given him a blanket a few months ago, a birthday present that he’d tried desperately to cover his blush at receiving.

(Hizashi had pitched in, helping you decide which color and texture, having an expert’s opinion so that it would be perfect for the dark-haired man – a level of detail and attention to his desires that still, to this day, makes his heart flutter to think about. You cared, wanting him to be happy, and just that thought leaves his chest swelling with pride, his palms getting a bit clammy and his cheeks feeling too hot.)

He’s kept the blanket on his bed, using it every single night for the limited sleep he manages to get, making sure the material is always, always touching his body. It’s the only way he really feels close to you – the blanket was for him, sure, but you’d touched it, picked it out, held it in your arms while Shouta was dumbly gaping at you and struggling to utter out a strained thank you.

(If he tries hard enough, he thinks he can even smell you on the fabric – it’s not as good as if you were actually here with him, laying in his arms, touching him, but if he strains enough and pretends hard enough, there’s the faintest whiff of you.)

He’s gulping, throwing his uniform off and leaving it crumped up in the corner, before gently, daintily grabbing the edges of the neatly folded blanket (a stark contrast to the harsh pulling and tugging at his costume he’d thrown off moments earlier) and laying it out on the bed.

He lets out a shaky breath, gulping, before tying his hair back into a messy, low ponytail, excitement flitting through him because he’s really about to do it. He’s really about to touch himself to the thought of you, allowing himself to fully indulge in the fantasy that is you, the fantasy that is imagining the way you’d feel against his body, your lips against his own, your hands in his hair and your thighs around his waist.

He’s moving slow as he settles onto his knees on the bed, staring down at the blanket with furrowed brows. This isn’t quite right – the image of you laying before him, body nude and your legs clenched together in anticipation feels very, very right, but there’s something missing.

A thumb comes down to idly rub at the blanket, tracing small circles against the material as he wracks his brain. What’s missing? How can he make this feel like you, like it’s your body he’s touching, like it’s your perfect little cunt he’s fucking?

He’s not sure, but suddenly it hits him – your body, just as he’d been dreaming about.

The blanket doesn’t look enough like you – it’s two dimensional, flat and having no surface area to grip onto, nothing for him to fondle and touch and squeeze.

It needs to have more of your shape – quickly, methodically, he’s reaching down, grabbing handfuls of the blanket and bunching it up, forming a shape that vaguely resembles your torso. He’s careful to get the exact shape of your waist and hips, making sure to leave mounds of crumpled blanket to represent your breasts, even creating a little space between your thighs that represents something soft, something warm and wet and tight – your precious little pussy, something Shouta would literally kill to feel.

He gulps as he looks down at his work, the atmosphere suddenly seeming much thicker, heavier, hotter, because now, the solid colored blanket seems like you, at least having your body shape and your vague proportions. Aizawa lets his hand run down what would be your side, pausing right over your pretend hip.

Fuck, he mutters under his breath, before shifting forward slightly, letting his weight rest on his knees and one hand as he carefully guides his cock to the space between your crafted thighs.

He’d been careful to leave a fold in the fabric, a pouch of sorts – a place for him to push into, slowly spreading the two layers, trying to mimic the way your pretty lips would part for him, your walls sucking him and clenching him nice and tight, wanting to keep him inside and never let him pull out.

Shouta curses as he rubs his tip against the fabric, noting with a small, far-away sense of disdain that there’s precum smearing all along the fabric, certainly leaving a stain that he’ll have to scrub out later. His thumb comes up to gently swipe along where he imagines your cheek to be, even feeling phantom sensations of warmth, of softness, just as you’d be.

He leans down slowly, throat bobbing, before letting his eyes flutter closed, his lips pressing against the blanket – right where he imagines your own to be. The kiss is soft, gentle, heartfelt, his tongue flicking out to lick against the blanket material, groaning and wishing it was your own tongue meeting his, your own spit coating his lips.

As he gets closer, body inching further down until his chest pressed up against what’s supposed to be your breasts, he shuffles his hips forward, pushing past the fabric fold and into you. He groans, pulling back from the kiss to rest his forehead against where he imagines yours to be, letting his eyes shut tight, nearly squeezing them closed as he slowly rocks his hips.

The friction of the blanket feels a bit strange, not how you’d feel, but it’s better than nothing – and it’s so, so very easy to imagine you instead; your warm, slick walls, the way you’d squeeze at him when he brushes up against your spot, the way your legs would wrap around his hips, hooking your ankles and pulling him in closer, begging him to go deeper. He sighs out, biting his lip and furrowing his brow, the pleasure slowly beginning to mount.

He imagines the way you’d moan his name – he bets you’d be airy, a soft sound that gets his hips stuttering ever so slightly because he knows the way his name would sound spilling from your lips would be heaven, the sultry Shouta upturned at the end as he fucks into you just the slightest bit faster.

His hips pick up their pace at the thought of you crying his name, back muscles flexing as he slowly gets faster and faster, the slow, sweet, intimate pace he’d set blown to dust in the wake of his thighs propelling him forward, hips flying and smacking into the blanket so quickly and harshly that the mattress is shaking, bedframe slightly pounding against the wall.

Shouta groans, low and deep, imagining the way you’d beg him to go faster Shouta please, please please please you feel s’good, wanna come for you! Memories of seeing you touch yourself flash behind his closed eyes, seeing the way your face screwed up in pleasure, how you gripped at your pillows and bucked your hips and trembled and arched your back and gasped and came –

Shouta’s chanting your name, his hips sinking into the fold of the blanket over and over, and quickly he’s bringing a thumb down to rub frantic, uneven circles where he imagines your clit to be, desperate to get you coming, wanting to time your orgasm with his.

Fuck, come for me baby, give it to me, god you’re s’damn tight fuuuck - !

His eyes fly open as spurts of warm, milky cum spray from his tip, getting all over the blanket and making his hips stutter and jerk, the sensation of coming in something leaving his arms feeling weak.

He’s panting, still saying your name under his breath, dark hair falling around his face as his thighs flex and clench, the last bits of cum dribbling from his tip and leaving him feeling spent. He can’t help but imagine the way you’d take him, if you’d thank him for giving him everything he has to offer, if you’d hold onto him until you both caught your breath, if your walls would still flutter and clench sporadically even after you’d come down from your high.

He closes his eyes again, heart practically in his throat as he leans down once more to kiss the blanket, tongue sneaking out and wet noises filling the room as spit and drool get slobbered all over the fabric.

He’s still out of breath, panting when he pulls back, but it’s not until he leans back onto his knees and takes a good look at the blanket that his high begins to fade, the reminder that you’re not really there making a sharp feeling dig into his gut.

He stares for a moment, before sighing, slowly pulling out of the blanket and grimacing when he feels cooling cum sliding across his cock, the white mess all over the material and smeared across his skin.

He brings a hand to his forehead, covering his eyes and sighing. What was he doing?

He’d just fucked a blanket – a gift, from you no less – while pretending it was you, his desperation to get you naked and in his grasp strong enough to make him lose him mind.

Pathetic, he was truly pathetic.

He’s ashamed as he throws the blanket into the laundry, hoping the cum stains will come out with all the bleach he’d thrown in alongside it, and as he chugs his coffee, deciding to get to school early and try to collect himself, Shouta can only sigh.

You make him such a fucking fool – a freak, perverted and creepy and gross, and as soon as he catches sight of you in the staff loungeroom, looking all pretty in your simple blouse and slacks, he knows he’s a lost cause, every bit of self-respect falling by the wayside.

 Because as soon as he looks at you, all he can think of is how you’d look underneath him, stuffed full of his cum and a dazed, fucked-out expression scrawled across your face. All he can think of is how you’d be absolutely perfect to sink his cock into – and as he darts off to the nearest restroom, desperately trying to get rid of the insistent, raging erection in his pants, he can only sigh, letting his head hang.

He really is a fucking creep.

FAVORITE BODY PARTS

Your thighs

Shouta isn’t one to sexualize women’s bodies. He’s a man with urges, sure, but he’s never had trouble separating sexual attraction from respect for his female friends, even for strangers in the streets. A body is a body, and they aren’t made to be stared at and ogled.

Except where you’re concerned, of course, because while Shouta tries his hardest to not sexualize every thought of you, it’s difficult to hold himself back when he’s so utterly attracted to every single part of you.

It’s hard to not fixate and stare and want when he looks at you, and so while he gives a valiant effort to not obsess over your figure in a less than innocent way, eventually he can’t help himself.

And Shouta discovers that while he loves every inch of you, there’s something about your thighs that drive him absolutely fucking crazy.

Maybe it’s their shape – pretty expanses of your skin that look perfect to grope and squeeze, the soft curves making him salivate in a way that feels almost predatory.

Maybe it’s the way they feel – your skin is so soft, especially if he moves his hands further up, between them, nearing somewhere warm and wet and throbbing.

Maybe it’s the way they feel when they’re around his waist, caging him in and keeping him right where he wants to be, and when they’re around his head?

(Don’t mention the instances where he’s orgasmed just from simply eating you out – it’s embarrassing, and while he won’t deny it, he will change the conversation and pray you don’t see the soft, barely-there pink blooming on his cheeks.)

Maybe it’s even the way you respond when he touches them – how you jump a little bit, his calloused hands feeling a bit cold as they skim along the sides, thumbs pressing into your inner thighs, a comforting finger brushing along the juncture of your legs and pelvic bone.

He’s not entirely sure, but one thing he does know is that just seeing your bare thighs is enough to get him gulping, his dark gaze struggling to move away as he watches the area jiggle and flex while you walk, every step you take only making him want you more and more.

Even before he’s stolen you away, he’s fantasizing about your thighs – he’s bought more pairs of stockings and thigh-highs than he’d care to admit, keeping them neatly organized in a specific drawer in his closet, often fingering the material and biting his lip.

(The image of you wearing them makes him drool, the idea of the top hem squeezing your thigh and making a little bulge appear right above the socks getting his hand wandering down his torso, his fingers making quick word of his belt buckle because fuuuck, would you keep them on while he throws your legs over his shoulders and absolutely destroys you?)

He’s always taking extra time and care to properly worship them when he’s got his head between your legs, letting his lips and tongue trail all along the soft skin, leaving teasing bite marks and hickeys and feeling the way you tremble under his touch because he’s so close yet so far from where you need him.

He’s always got a hand on your thighs when he’s fucking you, his fingers clutching and digging into the skin while he shuts his eyes tight and wills himself to last longer, to prolong the moment, to give you more more more, just like you deserve.

He just really, really likes your thighs, so don’t be surprised when he’s got his hand casually placed on one when you’re watching a movie together, his gaze purposefully not looking at you because you can’t see how flustered he is from touching your clothed thigh in a non-sexual context.

You can’t.

His hands

In general, Shouta lives to please you in bed. He’s by no means submissive (though he could be persuaded if you really, really wanted to be in charge for a night), but he’s a caring partner in every possible sense of the word – sex is about you, and any pleasure he gets from it is just a fun bonus.

And because of this, he takes every opportunity to learn new ways to please you, trying everything from teasing your clit with the tip of his tongue, buying a collection of vibrators, even letting you grind against the expanse of his thigh.

But his favorite method by far is using his fingers on you. They’re thick, with scars and callouses dotting the rough skin, but they’re so gentle with you, always touching you like you’re something fragile and delicate and breakable. He's careful with you when he’s rubbing circles over your clit, the pressure consistent enough to feel good but not too hard, sometimes even teasing you. He’s gentle when he’s running his fingertips over your folds, occasionally dipping in just a hair to feel the warm wetness he wants so very badly to sink into.

(He often sucks in a short, nearly inaudible gasp when he does this, his Adam’s apple bobbing because god you’re wet, and he’ll pull back to lick off his fingers, letting his eyes flutter closed as he tastes you.)

He particularly enjoys fingering you – he’s dexterous, and he always goes slow and purposefully, learning quickly exactly where you like to be touched. He’ll angle the pads of his fingers against that spot inside of you that makes your toes curl, his lip caught between his teeth as he watches your face twist up, hearing your pretty sighs and moans, feeling the way you clench around him, your hips twitching a bit as if to get him deeper, to get more of him. He keeps his pace sensual, the come-hither motion slow and controlled, all the while keeping his thumb pressed firmly against your clit, drawing shapes that stay just consistent enough to get you closer and closer.

All the while, the other hand is gently working at your clit, his fingers expertly getting the exact pressure and pattern you like, making your thighs twitch and your little gasps and mewls louder and more insistent.

And when he’s not actively working between your legs, Shouta’s always got his fingers pleasuring you in other ways – gently kneading at your breasts, pinching and rolling your nipples between a thumb and index finger, groping and squeezing at you like a man starved as his tongue flicks and sucks at your clit.

They’re grasping a handful of your thigh and squeezing reassuringly as he’s fucking you, his pace slow and deep, making sure you feel every possible inch of him as he folds you in half.

He’s even slipping a thumb against your tongue when you take a break to breath, your chest heaving and your fingers wrapped around his girth, a groan slipping from his lips because god, the sight of his precum dribbling down your chin is enough to get his cock twitching on its own. He’ll press down on your tongue, his lip caught between his teeth as you stare up at him, the sight indescribably erotic, a few praises falling from his mouth about how good you look, how pretty you are, how well you take care of him.

(All the while, he’s feeling you suck on his thumb, eagerly running your tongue along the skin and even swallowing around it to give the extra suction. Shouta curses under his breath, and suddenly stands, grabbing you by the hips and forcing you to bend over the chair he’d previously been sitting on, roughly spreading your legs and immediately diving in to lick and suck against your clit, a finger slipping inside of you because he just can’t not touch you after watching you drool all over him.)

He just likes to make you feel good, and while he enjoys pleasuring you with his mouth, nothing can beat the way you moan and shake when he’s working his fingers on you, pulling orgasm after orgasm out of you until you’re incoherent, your poor body trembling, the only thing you can think of him him him.

DRIVE

Though you inspire more sexual desire and drive within him than he’s experienced for the last twenty years, Shouta is still not absolutely desperate to fuck you at all times.

Sure, the idea is nice – being intimate with you is something he craves, but nine times out of ten this intimacy takes the form of simply holding you. Sitting beside you with your head resting on his shoulder, a blanket covering the both of your bodies as you snore softly and cling to him in your sleep, showing that you feel safe with him, that you trust him to protect you.

(Shouta is normally able to keep his staring in check and not be too terribly overt with it, but in times like these he allows himself to openly gape at you, those dark eyes of his examining every detail of your face. Every small wrinkle, every hair and mole, even every lash and baby hair that frames your cheeks. You’re just too damn pretty, and like this he can commit every last detail to memory – as if he hadn’t already, as if he doesn’t sleep at night with your face dancing through his dreams, as if he sees flashes of you in everything he does. As if he isn’t thinking of you as unconsciously as he breaths.)

He generally imagines sleeping with you (and genuinely just sleeping – curling up with you in his arms and his face buried next to your neck, the scent of your body and shampoo filling his senses and making him breathe out something that walks the fine line between a sigh and a moan), the peacefulness and tranquility of just having you close to him in the safety of his protection and home.

It’s a type of intimacy that gets Shouta red in the face, the idea so domestic and taboo and foreign that he comes to crave this on a near constant basis, serving as motivation and a way to calm himself when his students are out of control or a villain is being particularly difficult.

But of course, Shouta is only a man, and men have needs – no matter how he tries to keep his obsession with you as innocent as it possibly can be, sexual thoughts trickle in through the cracks of his mental fortitude and leave him with a phantom wonder of how you’d taste – would you be sweet, like the jellies Hizashi had gotten him? Would you be rich and savory? He hopes you’d have a strong musk to you, a smell that he can breathe in and think of you, something that gets his salivating and his body growing hot and his fingers restless and his breath heavy and labored and god –

He’s hard before he knows it, immediately covering his face with his hands because it’s equal parts embarrassing and terrifying how easily you manage to affect him, just the simple thought of you getting his entire body on edge.

And so he eventually takes up masturbation with you in mind, feeling dirty and disgusting each time he recovers from his orgasmic high, making it more and more difficult to look you in the eye without thinking of all the depraved things he’d imagined doing with you mere hours before.

But Shouta thinks he can survive – sure, he wants to fuck you, needs to kiss you, has to see the face you make when you’re coming, but he can control himself. He won’t succumb to the urge to break into your (frustratingly poorly protected) apartment to run his fingers along your pretty skin and fuck his fist mere inches from your face, no matter how badly his body yells and begs him to. He won’t cross this boundary – it’s hypocritical to think of himself not as a pervert at this point, but it’s the only way he confidently resists you.

Except, then you go and force him into kidnapping you – and now you’re with him nearly all moments of the day, your scent in his bedroom (though he knows you never willingly enter there, and he doesn’t force you to), your body always just a heartbeat away, the idea of holding you and kissing much, much closer now.

And even with the constant temptation, Shouta manages to hold out – it’s torture, really, forcing himself to be a good man and giving you privacy, to not touch you, to not press himself against you and feel the contours of your body against his own, but it’s worth it to him. He can’t force anything – he doesn’t want to scare you, and he has this horrible, sneaking suspicion that if he propositioned you, you’d feel too afraid to say no.

And just the thought is enough motivation to keep him from touching you, to keep him celibate from you purely by his choice – even if it starts affecting him physically.

(He’d never, ever admit it to you, but his lust for you becomes so extreme that if he’s gone more than a week or so without having touched himself to the thought of you while you’re under his care, his cock starts physically hurting when he sees you, his hips involuntarily twitching when he hears your voice, his throat feeling dry and his cheeks blooming bright red because god, he’s never wanted to fuck something so bad.)

And so, Shouta forces himself to be an outstanding man – but no one can be alert every moment of every day, and it’s only a matter of time before you catch him in a moment of weakness. Because really, while Shouta was suffering, you were certainly undergoing a struggle of your own – you’ve been stuck with him for a few months at this point, trapped in his modest apartment with everything you could ever need with one glaring, important exception: human touch.

You don’t necessarily want to be physical with your kidnapper, but as the days pass and you slowly come to accept the fact that you won’t be escaping Eraserhead, things start changing. You’re still understandably frightened of him, worried that although he’s not harmed you in any way and hasn’t forced you into much aside from your captivity, he’ll show his true colors and make your life even more of a living hell.

But that doesn’t happen, Shouta staying that familiar presence you’ve become accustomed to; steady, quiet, consistent. Except the more days that pass, the more you start noticing other things about him – he’s strong, isn’t he? You see it when he walks from the bathroom to his bedroom with the towel tightly fastened at his waist, showing off the lean muscle of his arms and torso.

(He can feel your eyes sometimes, but tries not to dwell on what your staring at his naked chest could mean because getting his hopes up means getting them inevitably crushed.)

He’s awfully attentive, isn’t he? He listens when you speak, those dark eyes boring into you and your every wish – aside from escape – granted without so much as a complaint.

And sometimes, he’s a little attractive, isn’t he? In a rugged, man-ish way – a way that makes you gulp and press your thighs together a bit, because something about the stubble that coats his chin and the veins that litter his hands and forearms makes it difficult to breath correctly.

And then the daydreams start – little thoughts about how it would feel for those hands to touch you, for those lips to brush against your own, for his hair to tickle your neck as he hovers over you, his hips moving slowly and rhythmically against you, gruff grunts of your name filling the air between you.

They scare you at first, really, but soon you can’t stop yourself – you know it’s the lack of human contact that’s influencing you, but as time passes and you grow more desperate to know if he’s as attentive in bed as he is everywhere else, you’ll stop caring.

And Shouta can sense that something’s changing – he feels you watching him, notices the way your eyes follow him through a room, how you suck in the sharpest, smallest breath when he nears you, how you grow stiff when he has to flex a muscle in front of you to lift something heavy. Shouta knows that something is different – but it’s not until you grow brave one day that everything is confirmed.

It’d been a long, tiresome day for Shouta – his class had been especially rowdy today, with a simulation villain attack that the teachers participated in, and of course he’d ended up assigned to spar with Todoroki – meaning he’d been moving about, his muscles tired and sore from multiple hours of repetitive fighting. Then he’d had an extra patrol directly after, the villains particularly restless and causing more trouble than normal. Coupled with a nasty rainstorm that had him half freezing to death, Shouta wanted nothing more than to melt into bed, ideally with you beside him but knowing better than to wish for foolish things.

And when he’d stepped in the front door, you’d been waiting for him, sitting nervously on the couch. You’d stood up, but Shouta – despite feeling slightly more awake and alive at the sight of you, like normal – was still exhausted, already on the brink of unconsciousness as he gruffly greeted you. You looked nervous, twiddling your thumbs and biting your lip, but Shouta was too tired to properly ask about it, only mentally noting to check on you tomorrow.

Slumping towards his bedroom, he was abruptly stopped with you grabbed his hand, his entire body going rigid. Your voice was quiet when you asked him why he always seems to avoid touching you, asking if he didn’t want to, if he was repulsed by the idea of touching, if he was repulsed by you.

And Shouta, still half delirious with exhaustion, let the truth slip from his lips before he could help himself – explaining just how badly he craves to feel you, imagining you in every lewd position he can think of, noticing the way your pajama shirts sometimes grow tight when you sleep and roll over, exposing the outline of your breast and nipple and making him physically stop in his tracks and nearly drool like some horny teenager.

Every secret was spilling out of him, his voice still tired and coarse but making your jaw drop, the admission that he’s been fantasizing about making you a mess on his fingers and tongue and cock stunning you. You’d known Shouta harbored some sort of feelings for you, but this?

When he finishes detailing the fact that he regularly fucks his fist to the thought of you at least twice a week after you’ve fallen asleep, you release his hand, immediately missing the warmth of his skin.

Shouta rubs at his eyes, still not facing you, but muttering a small goodnight and retreating to his room, only realizing what’s happened the next morning. His hands shake and he bolts from his bed, his eyes wide and his heart racing, something horrible and feeling like shame and dread sitting in his chest because why the fuck had he told you that?

Facing you the next day has anxiety sitting in his every nerve, his actions jerky and on-edge, an he’d nearly bolted back to the safety of his room when he sawy you sitting at the kitchen table, but then you’d done something unexpected – you’d walked up to him, stood in silence for a moment, then grabbed his hand. Shouta had been confused, unable to ignore the way your hand fit into his own and the softness of your skin against his, but you’d not given him a chance to even ask questions – soon your lips were on his, and your hand had placed his on something warm and soft and squishy –

Shouta gasped against your lips, the feeling of your breast in his hand and your tongue swiping at his lips nearly making his knees buckle. He didn’t respond to your kiss for a few moments, forcing you to pull back and stare at him, something like worry and rejection reflected in your eyes, but it’s not until you whisper in a very small voice that he snaps out of his stupor.

I want you Shouta, and I know you want me.

You were in his bed moments later, his hands frantic and eager and shaking as he practically ripped off your borrowed pajamas, fingers moving fast and settling over every part of your body, seemingly unable to decide on where to stay.

It was rushed, desperation clouding both of your senses, but as Shouta threw your leg over his shoulder and pressed wet kisses against the juncture of your shoulder and neck, his whispered affirmations of his love for you only had you pulling him closer, adoration and shock and something so happy it nearly hurt filling his chest.

Perhaps, just perhaps, something in you loved him as he loved you.  

MAIN THREE KINKS

Clothed Sex

It’s about convenience for Shouta – he’s not lazy in the bedroom, but although he finds you irresistible and is normally willing to expend what very little energy he has on sex with you, he’s willing to take any shortcut he can.

Of course, sex with you in an ideal world sees the both of you completely nude, your bodies pressed as close together as physically possible so that not a breath of space lays between them. He likes being close to you, feeling every inch of you, the intimacy of it unmatched and making Shouta revel in the fact that you’re really there with him, that he’s really getting to touch you, that he’s really getting to kiss you and touch you and fuck you, just as he’s been fantasizing of for months.

But that said, there’s a strange allure to clothed sex – it’s taboo and a little dirty, something that makes him feel a little warm, his palms growing a bit sweaty because it could happen at any time. Whenever the mood strikes him or strikes you, he could simply unzip his pants, shuffle them down a bit and fish out his cock, and he'd be ready to go – already half-hard, the eager anticipation of your touch exciting him from nearly the moment you entered the room.

And it’s easy access to you, too – not that he’d ever take advantage of that fact, your consent still something he asks for every time he touches you. It’s easy to slip your panties to the side, sinking you down onto his lap as he groans and his head lolls back, the feeling of your warmth making his toes curl. He just likes how easy it all is – no time is wasted with struggling to get off your shirt or his pants, and the desperation to be inside you that always seems to overwhelm him at the most inconvenient of times can be attended to that much faster.

He just thinks there’s something so hot about it – he’ll specifically stock you with clothing to wear that makes this easy – flouncy skirts and shorts that make shoving everything to the side and bunching his fist into the cloth to get better leverage while he pounds into you.

He’ll get you tank tops and things that make fishing your breasts out of your top easy, so that they can freely hang and jiggle as he bounces you up and down on his lap, your nipples hardening and shivers racing down your spine as he flicks his tongue at one.

He’ll buy underwear that doesn’t chafe when he shoves it to the side, the pretty sight of lace against your skin making him feral, making him fuck into you harder and more frantically because you almost look like some sort of lewd present when you’re wearing that lingerie – like his very own present, the one thing in the world he wants more than anything else.

And he’ll wear clothing that makes this easy, too – pants that can be unzipped and boxers he can tuck underneath his balls, making sure that nothing gets in the way. And although having sex without clothes is much more common than with clothes, Shouta will surprise you and suddenly press up behind you in the kitchen, telling you that you look too good, that he can’t help himself, that he needs you, and has to fuck you right here, right now, I can’t wait.

And so when you nod, he’ll flip up that skirt of yours – the main culprit for the throbbing between his legs, of course, because the clear view of your legs and thighs makes his mouth water – and slip aside those panties, his cock already out and hard and dripping for you.

It’s spontaneous, more than anything, and it’s one of the only ways in which Shouta is a little carefree with sex – one of the only times that he isn’t serious, or at least as serious.

The main way Shouta likes to engage in clothed sex, though, is through cockwarming. He just likes being close to you – he’s touch-starved, and although he doesn’t have the energy to actually fuck you, he still wants to be inside you, to have your body against his, to have you near and be smelling your scent and hearing your voice.

And so, it’s not a rare occurrence to have him pull you into his arms on his modest leather couch, your frumpy sweatpants and t-shirt (both his, of course, a fact that isn’t lost on him – he will not be washing either of those items when they eventually are off your body) covering your form and his own loungewear covering his.

He’ll shuffle up behind you, pulling you against him so that he’s spooning you, and before long you’ll feel something poking at your ass – something hard and insistent, something that seems to be bobbing and moving every few moments.

Truthfully, Shouta couldn’t say what got him hard – perhaps it was just being with you, or maybe smelling you, or the sight of you in his clothes. It could be any number of things – but his breath hitches as you swallow and carefully tug down the hem of your sweatpants, pressing your exposed ass back against him.

He makes a sound like a low whistle, and then he’s fishing his cock out of his own pants, the tip already wet with precum as he shifts his hips to slip between your legs, propping your leg up over his so that he can push inside. He does so with a small groan, resting his forehead against your back, and he feels you clench down on him.

He’s content to lay there – the warmth of his clothing and from you almost too much, but seeing the way you snuggle deeper into the shirt sending something warm and hot and possessive through his chest. He’ll just pull you against him tighter, the slight shift making the both of you hiss at the small burst of pleasure. He’s content to fall asleep that way – relaxed, his cock still nestled inside of you and hard as a rock, the feeling of your cunt lulling him into dreams filled with you naked and moaning his name, all bouncing breasts and desperate hands and begs for more.

(Don’t be surprised, when this happens, to wake up feeling something dripping out of you – yes, it’s cum and yes, that wet dream was enough to get him there. Don’t mention it, either, because Shouta’s always disappointed that he wasn’t awake for it - after all, call him old-fashioned but finishing inside of you is arguably his favorite selfish part of sex.)

Overstimulation

Shouta is not a stingy lover. In the bedroom, he lives to see you enjoying yourself – it soothes this primal, horrible ache in his chest that yearns or your approval and happiness. A lot of his obsession is born out of a desire to please you and keep you happy and safe, and this translates into making absolutely sure you’re satisfied in every possible way between the sheets.

Sex isn’t really sex until you’ve had at least two orgasms, whether that be because of his fingers or tongue, and only then will he throw your pretty legs up over his shoulders, sinking into you with a sharp exhale and letting his face rest against your sternum as he wills himself to not get too excited, to keep his cool and not rut into you like wild animal. He wants you to enjoy sex with him – he craves intimacy with you and he needs you to crave it too, and he’s hopeful that by giving you the best attention and care in bed, you’ll be more inclined to kiss and hold him, to touch him and whisper those three little words in his ear.

(The three little words that make him gasp and shudder, cum immediately spurting out of his red, swollen tip, his knuckles turning white as he grips onto your thigh and the bedsheets tightly enough to keep himself grounded through the pleasure.)

And so, Shouta finds that there’s something darkly pleasing about being the one to get you orgasming, being the source of your pleasure – seeing your face twist up, your mouth forming that pretty ‘o’ and your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Shouta develops a bit of a sick fascination with seeing just how often he can make you come for him, and from what. It stems from a good place; a genuine desire to make you happy and get you shaking with pleasure and incoherent enough that all you can say is his name.

 He likes to choose how you come – will it be his fingers? Will he draw pretty circles on the inside of your thighs, teasing you and feeling the way your breathing picks up a bit, a whine of his name telling him that you’re growing impatient, that you need more, that you need him?

He’ll get closer and closer to your folds, pressing a thumb against them and dipping in ever so slightly, the dull pleasure making you bite your lip, embarrassment eating you alive because it feels so dirty to be teased like this, to keep your legs so wide open for him, to feel the way his eyes are staring at you so fully and intensely, the adoration and lust swimming in those dark depths nearly too much for you handle.

He’ll press two fingers against your clit and get to work, rubbing with light pressure and slowly increasing it, feeling the way the nub gets harder and more swollen, fingers swiping down to collect a bit of your slick to make things easier, the pads of his fingers gliding along your sensitive skin and making your hips jump and twist.

He’ll use his other hand to finger you, rough calloused skin dragging against your walls and pressing right into the spot he knows you love – the one that makes your back arch up, your head pushing back against the pillow, your nails digging into the bedsheets and tangling through his hair. Working you through an orgasm with his fingers is his favorite and what you’ll most likely get – he gets a front row seat, watching with rapt attention as you fall apart for him, feeling the way your thighs tremble and close in around him when you’re right on the edge.

There’s this feeling of power, pride and desire making him light headed and only work harder at his ministrations, ignoring your yelps and gasps of overstimulation because he needs to see that again, to feel the way you clench down onto his fingers so tightly that he has to work to pull them out to thrust back in. You’re just so damn sexy, the sight of you laying before him with your pretty legs spread wide open making him swallow so hard you can hear it.

But of course, Shouta also loves using his mouth to get you off – pink lips attaching to your nipple, sucking and running his tongue over your areola to make you squirm, your little keens making his cock twitch against your thigh.

He’ll kiss at your hips, making a trail down to your clit, giving you little kitten licks while his eyes flick up to look at you, seeing the way you sigh and bite your lip, the rising and falling of your chest making him near feral.  

He wants to see you moan and writhe, to feel you grasping at him and needing him, and so his patience wears out and he dives between your legs, slick coating his nose and chin as he licks and sucks and thrusts his tongue against you, eyes closed in concentration and hair getting in his face but he doesn’t care – how can he, when you sound so pretty moaning his name like that?

How can he, when your thighs are clenching around his head and you’re just so fucking wet for him, showing him exactly how much he’s affecting you?

It's euphoric, and soon you’ll be crying out his name and creaming all over his lips, shaking in his grasp so hard that he has to hold you down by the hips to help you ride out the pleasure, the taste of you making him so hard that it hurts.

And god, there’s something about the way you respond to voice and his commands in bed that makes Shouta curse under his breath. You look up at him all wide-eyed, pleasure written across your face as you look to him for guidance, his voice gruff and thick with lust as he tells you to let go, come for me, want to see you come for me.

You immediately furrow your brows and bite your lip, grinding yourself harder against his fingers, feeling the pads of them brush against the spot that has you seeing stars, his name a prayer as you chant it over and over, only stopping to moan or gasp.

The sight is intoxicating, leaving Shouta gaping like a fish with parted lips and heavy breaths, staring at you like you’re something heavenly, divine, unable to tear his gaze away because he still can’t quite believe this is happening, that you’re moaning his name, that you’re letting him touch you and oh, he knows what that change in your facial expression means, how you’re blinding grasping at him, how you’re stuttering out a rushed ‘m coming, Shouta ‘m coming fuck-!

Watching you come undone right before his eyes has Shouta’s cock throbbing, his hips subtly moving against your thigh because he needs friction, the sight of you and the knowledge that he made you this way nearly too much for him to bear.

And when you finally calm down, your breathing wild and your eyes a little glazed over, he’ll just swallow and quickly situate him hips between your legs, gripping himself at the base and impatiently prodding at your entrance, his words dark as he tells you that you’ve got another one in you, give it to me.

When he pushes in – slowly, so as not to hurt you – he lets out a groan, only muffled by the way he leans down to kiss you, feeling the way you tense up and eagerly return the gesture, wrapping your ankles around his waist and pulling him deeper, showing him that you need more more more if you’re going to finish like he wants you to.

And Shouta’s happy to oblige – snapping his hips into you until his muscles are sore and screaming, a thumb relentlessly toying with your clit, his lips against your neck and whispering praise tainted with curses.

He’s encouraging you to feel good, telling you to tell me how it – fuck, how it feels, you’re so goddamn tight, tell me how to fuck you – o-oh…

Because really, while he loves to get you coming and falling apart on his terms, Shouta’s pride flies out the window where you’re concerned – he’d do anything to get you clenching down on him and begging him to finish inside you.

Anything.

Voyeurism

Honestly, it’s a byproduct of having stalked you for such an extended period of time. Watching you was the only way to feel close to you – he wasn’t able to hold you and kiss you, to feel you and lay with you and make you whine his name, and becoming your shadow was the only possible substitution.

And even then, it wasn’t enough – all the guilt he harbors from watching you in your more intimate moments never fades, not even after years of having stolen you away, your pretty body and mind fully his to do as he pleases. He’s still ashamed, but some things he just simply can’t unlearn – and so, even once your sexual relationship begins, Shouta finds himself still utterly excited by the prospect of watching you pleasure yourself.

It’s dirty, horrible, something that makes him feel so guilty he can hardly stand it, but he can’t not stop and watch through the crack in your door when he hears what sounds suspiciously close to muffled whimpers.

He can’t not press his ear against the wooden door, closing his eyes and imagining what you’re doing to yourself – maybe you’re playing with that cute little clit, rubbing it in circles and biting your lip because it just feels so damn good, mimicking the way that Shouta works you up slowly and steadily, getting you so sensitive that your hips jump and twitch at just the slightest bit of pressure against your sensitive nerves.

(He’s had dreams about the way you taste – he thinks you’d be musky, something natural and strong and savory, a taste he wants in his mouth at all hours of the day. And the way you’d tremble and gush for him if it was his fingers and mouth toying with the nub, how you’d tangle your fingers in his hair and pull him closer and closer to you, needing as much of him as possible, needing him him him…)

Maybe you’re sinking your fingers inside of you, working up from one to three, stretching yourself out and imagining it’s him instead, that he’s the one filling you up and making your toes curl, that he’s the one causing all those pretty noises to fall from your lips.

(He knows just how much bigger his own fingers are – he’ll imagine the size difference, his eyes shutting tight when he thinks of how much more he can stretch you out, how much better he can make you feel, how the texture of his fingers must send pleasure up your spine in a way that your soft, comparatively dainty fingers can’t.)

Maybe you’re perched up on a pillow, straddling it with your cunt pressed snugly against the fabric, slick smearing across the cotton as you grind your hips back and forth, hunched over so that the angle is just right, imagining it’s him underneath you and it’s his thigh or cock you’re rubbing against.

(He’s had wet dreams about this sight, always hoping and fantasizing that you’re just so desperate for him that you’re imagining it’s his face you’re riding, his mind conjuring up the sound of your voice moaning out his name and telling him yes yes o-oh fuck yes, Shouta ‘s so good, you feel so good! He’d never seen you riding a pillow during all those months of stalking, but the idea’s just too graphic and wanton and lewd for him to not fantasize about, the idea satisfying the part of him that’s embarrassed and ashamed of just how badly he craves you – because surely if you’re humping some piece of cotton and pretending it’s him, then what does he have to be embarrassed about? Lots, really, but it makes him feel slightly better.)

Or maybe you’ve decided that you want something a little more physical, something to really mimic him – he’d seen you using your vibrator many, many times before he stole you away. His face always turned pink at the sight, his throat going dry and his grip on his capture weapon a little loose as he simply stared, the sight of your pretty body contorting and the plastic held against the crest of your pelvic bone making everything else fade away.

You’re so damn pretty – the way you moan and sigh, how your legs twitch, how your breasts sway and jiggle with every motion, making his fingers ache to reach out and squeeze, to knead and touch and grope, like some sort of pervert.

And this fantasy and mental image has stayed with him long after kidnapping you – once your physical relationship begins and Shouta no longer feels it would make you even more uncomfortable and scared of him, he’s buying you a replacement for that trusty vibrator you used to use to death. He’d left it on your nightstand one morning with a hasty note simply saying I’m gone a lot, I don’t want you to get lonely.

Of course, this is only half the truth – he does want you to be happy, and he doesn’t want you to grow resentful of the times when he’s too exhausted to give you proper sex. But of course, the unspoken portion of this gift is that he wants to watch you use said vibrator – and badly.

He wants to sit in a chair at the side of the bed, legs spread wide as he grips the base of his cock, absentmindedly squeezing at his balls while his dark eyes stay trained on your figure. He wants you to be spread out for him, perhaps a skimpy set of lingerie covering your pretty body (or perhaps none at all, if you’re comfortable with it) with your legs spread wide, the vibrator in your hand hovering against your clit. He wants to hear the steady, dull buzzing sound mixing with your whimpers, to see the way your body tenses up and you whine, feet flexing and shaky breaths slipping past your lips as you slowly work towards your high.

He wants to see the way you eventually grow impatient, changing the vibrator’s setting and immediately crying out, the feeling much more intense and making your orgasm hurtle towards you, getting slick all over the bedspread as you cry out his name and writhe.

And Shouta doesn’t want you to look at him – he doesn’t want you to acknowledge that he’s there. Ignore him, just as you would have back when he was simply watching from outside your window – he wants to watch you, not have a show be put on for him.

You’re just too pretty, and there’s something about watching you that gets him hard as rock, his fist twisting and flicking so quickly it’s nearly a blur as he watches you transition to fucking yourself with the toy, your cries loud and wanton as Shouta grunts and curses under his breath. He wants to finish with you this time, his hips thrusting against his hand in an effort to match the pace you’ve set for yourself. It’s a dirty secret of his, and while Shouta won’t force you into it, just know that he would love to catch you masturbating – just the sight of you pleasuring yourself is enough to get him hot under the collar immediately, hand rushing into his trousers to cup himself because god.

He just likes to watch you, and even during regular sex when he’s folded you in half, those eyes are alternating between watching your face, your bouncing breasts, and your cunt swallowing his cock again and again and again, his cheeks a rosy pink and a bead of sweat dripping from his brow.

You’re just too pretty, he can’t take it – how can he not immediately want to get something of his on you, staining your lovely skin and gorgeous face with his cum?

OTHER NOTABLE KINKS INCLUDE

Hair Pulling

But not on you – unless you like it, in which case he might consider but will only ever do it lightly. He doesn’t like causing pain in general, and would only be willing to do it in very specific scenarios – and even then, it will be as gently as he possibly can.

Rather, Shouta likes when you pull his hair – he doesn’t let most people touch it, and it’s a rare day that he actually runs a comb through it, so as a result his scalp is extremely sensitive. And so, when you tunnel your fingers through his dark locks and pull, Shouta audibly groans, the tingling pain sending pleasure racing down his spine.

There’s just something naughty about it – only you get to touch him like this, so only you get to run your fingers through his hair and tug at it.

He particularly likes when you pull it while he’s got his face between your legs. He likes how your fingers tunnel through it and scrape against his scalp, and he’ll often use it as an indicator of whether he’s doing a good job or not. If you pull often and hard, he knows he’s doing what he needs to do – he’ll keep the pace up and stay in that same spot, doing everything and anything in his power to keep you pulling at it, working through any pain in his jaw or tongue because he needs to make sure you’re feeling good even at his own expense.

When he’s got you perched on his face, your pretty thighs framing his head so that all he can smell and taste and feel is you, he likes to have you reach down and still pull lightly at the roots, your breasts squished together and nipples taut, the visual alongside your taste and the slight pain from his scalp making his eyes roll to the back of his head and precum dribble down his length.

When he’s hovering over you and thrusting into you, balls clapping against your ass and your legs wrapped around his waist, he likes to have you tug at his hair, moaning out and crying his name with each tug and letting his ego swell, each burst of light pain making his hips go harder, faster, deeper, anything to get you louder and clenching around him tighter.

Even when you’re just kissing – simple, innocent kisses full of smiles and his hands gripping you just ever so slightly, Shouta likes to have you running your hands through his hair and tugging lightly, keeping him on his toes and forcing his cock to life.

He just really, really likes to have you touch his hair – it’s something intimate and something he’ll only ever let you do, so really, you should count yourself lucky. Shouta sure does when he’s buried deep inside you, watching your face and feeling your hands in his hair as he gives you every last drop he has to offer.

Mirror Sex

In general, Shouta absolutely loves watching you in bed. He thinks you’re genuinely the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, and when you’re gasping on his cock and moaning his name, you’re even prettier, even more breathtaking and lovely and perfect.

And while he prefers positions where he can see your face, he wants to be able to see your expressions always, even if he’s got you bent over while he presses his back to your chest and mounts you like some sort of wild animal.

And so, to solve this problem, Shouta invests in a modest, simple mirror that he keeps facing the end of your ‘shared’ bed – it’s roughly four feet tall and two feet wide, the perfect size so that when he’s got you on your hands and knees for him, your back arching and your arms threatening to give out, he can watch your eyes roll to the back of your head.

He’ll experiment with the pacing of his thrusts, going deeper and harder to see the way your brows scrunch up, how your jaw drops and the most depraved whine slips out of you, pride and arousal swelling in his chest because he made you make that noise.

He’ll go slower and keep his thrusts brushing against the spots that make you gasp just so that he can see the way your lips twitch.

He’ll speed up, fucking into you so fast that his balls slap lewdly against your ass, the noise filling the room alongside your pants and his groans, watching all the while how your eyes flutter and your back arches. He’ll sit you in his lap facing the mirror, spreading your legs and getting to work with his fingers curling and rubbing inside of you, a thumb circling your clit and his lips at your ear as he tells you to watch, pretty, see how good you look?

He’ll kiss a line from behind your ear, down your neck and over your shoulder, occasionally glancing up to the mirror to make sure you’re actively looking, whispering praises against your skin each time.

And he’ll bring you close to the mirror, too – sitting you only a foot away from the reflective surface, letting you get a nice view of Shouta’s favorite sight – your cunt, all spread out and wet, practically begging for something big, heavy, and throbbing to fill it, to stretch it out and make you see stars.

He’ll spread your lips, exposing your clenching hole, smiling at your reflection and making you tell him that you’re pretty, forcing you to grow comfortable with your body because he knows that it makes you insecure to see so much of yourself, and it drives him crazy.

He’ll even fuck you against the mirror – forcing you to watch your face from mere inches away, your hot breaths fogging up the glass, and he’ll make you come like that – holding your chin straight ahead and telling you to watch, sh-shit, watch, don’t take those fucking eyes off your face in a strained voice.

He just likes getting a good view of you during sex – you’re too pretty not to be seen, after all.  

BIGGEST FANTASY

In general, Shouta absolutely loves being intimate with you. While he’s no virgin, he doesn’t have an extensive amount of experience, and frankly he’s never been the biggest fan of sex – it’s too messy, too energy draining, and just a massive hassle.

However, when it’s with you, and when you moan his name just right and leave your nail marks down his back, Shouta will gladly strip his clothing at your beck and call, his lips already on yours before you can even finish your sentence.

And while he loves good, rough, passionate sex that’s full of smacking hips, gasps, moans and growls, there’s something to be said for slower, gentler sex, the kind that’s full of airy breaths and slow, meaningful kisses.

It’s the kind of sex where you can really feel him; every inch of him, the way his body covers yours as he hovers over you, the tickle of his hair against your jaw and neck as he buries his face in the juncture of your shoulder and collarbone, his hips rocking into yours and managing to grind against that one perfect spot that gets you sighing out a moan. It’s just more intimate this way, less of a wild, frantic race to get inside of you and more a slow, controlled love making, as embarrassed as he is to use to term.

Regardless, you’re most likely to get this type of sex from Shouta in two specific scenarios – the first of which being after a very long day, filled with a harrowing patrol where he maybe wasn’t able to save everyone, or things didn’t go according to plan. When this happens, he needs to just hold you, to feel you, to hear you whisper his name under your breath and tell him how good he feels, how he’s the best you’ve ever had, how he’s the only one you’ll ever want…

The second – and far more likely – scenario is in the early hours of the morning, when the sunlight is streaming into the modest apartment he keeps you in, your shared bed feeling warm with your bodies pressed against one another. Soft, sleepy morning sex is Shouta’s favorite, and something that he tries to incite as often as he possibly can.

There’s just something about it that gets him hot under the collar; maybe it’s the casualness of it all, the way it feels so natural, so human and so right, as if your bodies were made for each other. Maybe it’s the way it feels so intimate, like you’re both raw, yourselves in the most wonderful way.

Or maybe it’s the way you’re still just slightly sleepy, and you’re much more likely to be clingy at this time, touching him more and letting your real noises come out, not hindered by any shame or hate or embarrassment.

Regardless, Shouta loves it – so on the rare weekends where he’s off, expect to be woken up on the brink of an orgasm just as you deserve.

A yawn slips past Shouta’s lips, eyes peeling open and seeing the gray of his bedsheets. Everything is warm and soft, and as he shifts slightly, something moves next to him.

Nothing seems real for a few moments as he gazes down at you, your body curled up next to his own. It doesn’t feel real that you’re really here – in his bed without any clothing, happily sleeping without a care in the world. He swallows, something coming over him and moving him slowly – carefully – peel off the covers, moving down to where your legs slightly part.

He leans down, face mere inches away from the tufts of your pubic hair, his eyes fluttering closed as he inhales. You’re perfect – and as he gently pries your legs open further, Shouta can’t help but think of how often he’s fantasized about this very moment – how often he’s dreamt of what’s between your thighs, how he’d lay awake at night and press his fingers between two pillows, grinding his fingers against the cotton and pretending it was you, imagining how warm and wet you’d be for him.

He swallows, determination setting his brow as he lays onto his stomach, shuffling so that he can lightly lick at your inner thighs, eyes closing at the familiar taste of you. He takes his time, going slowly and softly, licking closer and closer to your pretty folds, eventually reaching them and licking his lips at the taste.

A thumb comes up to slowly press against your clit, knowing too much pressure would hurt and not warm your body up the way it needed. He continues his licks, before switching roles and starting to suckle at your clit as a finger dips between your folds, collecting the slick and rubbing it between his fingers.

Soon he’s pressing one inside, feeling the way your thighs twitch slightly, a small, sleepy moan ringing in his ears. God, you’re so damn perfect – even unconscious you’re enough to get his cock throbbing against the cotton sheets.

He keeps his pace slow, but as time passes you stir a bit, and when he hears your sleepy voice mumble out his name, Shouta curses, his fingers speeding up a bit.

That gets you more awake – soon your fingers are carding through his hair, sighs and murmurs of his name sounding like heaven.

“Mm, Shouta, that feels good…” You mumble, still dazed from waking up. Your hips are twitching now, a sign that the pleasure is slowly beginning to build.

Shouta groans against your cunt, the sound muffled.

Soon his fingers are picking up the pace again, his circles and licks at your clit growing more insistent, and the hands weaving through his hair start to tug – the sensation gets him humping at the bed for a moment, the morning glow still shining on you as he glances up at your face. You look like an angel – shining in the sunlight, your lips parted in a moan, head thrown back in pleasure.

Shouta pulls back for a moment, sending a kiss to your clit that makes your hips buck. He chuckles a bit, licking his lips.

“You’re so beautiful..” He whispers against your thigh, pressing open mouthed kisses against the skin. You hum at his compliment, and he watches as you smile, his breath practically punched out of his lungs.

“Shouta, you’re too good to me…” Your voice is soft, too, and soon he’s back to sucking at your clit, feeling the way your body jolts slightly, the pleasure making you sigh and swallow. He watches the movement of your throat.

“Feels good, mm yes, oh Shouta - just like that,” You start, eyes closed again, and Shouta finds himself abandoning the gentle pace he’d adopted, instead being more insistent, more pushy – suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to get you coming on his fingers.

You gasp lightly at the new change in pace, grinding your hips to match the new stimulation, and it makes Shouta dizzy. How can you be so attractive? How can you look so perfect in this moment; in his bed, moaning his name, looking and tasting and smelling like his own personal slice of heaven?

It’s cheesy and he’s almost embarrassed, but tears prick at the corners of his eye.

Soon your gasps have turned to moans, and all too soon you warn him in a slurred voice that you’re coming, your back arching up off the mattress and your moans light and airy as you gush against his fingers, white coating all the way down his knuckles and onto his palms. It makes him choke a bit, the feeling of your cunt rhythmically clenching down on him and your chest heaving, and with a final lick to your clit that makes you jerk, he’s moving up to kiss you.

The kiss is slow, his tongue brushing against yours and wet sound filling the room, but Shouta doesn’t mind. How could he, when he’s never felt this relaxed before?

His eyes slowly open as he feels your fingers wrap around him, a thumb brushing along his tip to collect a bit of the wetness there.

“Shouta, let me make you feel good.” You tell him, your voice just a whisper.

He looks at you, his lips parted for a brief moment, before a small smile quirks up the corners of his mouth. “Why would you do that?”

You trace the line of his jaw with your free thumb. The slow strokes of his cock have him a bit distracted, but he hears every word you speak to him. “Because I love you.”

He swallows, the words making something feel tight in his throat.

You laugh a bit at his silence and the dumbstruck look on his face. “What? Do you not love me too?”

And to answer that, Shouta scoffs, leaning down to kiss you again as he grasps himself around the base, pulling himself away from you and pushing into you, feeling your sharp intake of breath against his lips.

His pace is slow, soft, like he’s trying to tell you something – hips moving slowly and deeply, letting you feel every inch of him. He kisses your neck as your head falls back, your eyes fluttering closed.

Pressing a kiss against your collarbone, Shouta smiles against your skin, a groan falling from his lips.

“I love you, more than you’ll ever know.”

And he means it – you’ll don’t know half of the things he’s done for you, and as he squeezes at your breast and hears your soft moan, he knows he’ll never tell you.

[dollfacedsl1ut]

7 + 16 + 48 = jeno

prompt + “Lemme see that pretty face” + “We were made for each other why can’t you see that” + “I’m sorry sweetie it was just a precaution I’ll warn you next time”

content : hair pulling, yandere things so yeah, face slapping (like twice), mentions of needles, drugging

a/n: I wrote this half asleep😭😭😭

Jeno finally let you out of his cold basement the room he made for you was finished he didn’t think he’d have to kidnap you so early in his one sided pining but you and your boyfriend were gonna go on a 2 week vacation he couldn’t bear thinking about what you guys would do maybe you’d end up knocked up he hated thinking about it knowing it wasn’t gonna be him but that’s all changed now

His tight grip on your arm he led you to a white door with a pink number panel you tried to peer over his shoulder glancing at the pin but he just pushed your head away harshly “even if you knew the password it wouldn’t do much for you” as gust of wind went pass you as jeno gripped you hair tossing you the bed his hands tying your hands to the bedpost the sudden manhandling caused fear to overwhelm you thinking of only one thought in mind it was he wanted you

You were already vulnerable but you didn’t want that to happen “jeno no don’t-“ he glanced at you with a confused face “what are talking about” at this point you realized maybe he tied you up for precaution hoping you didn’t escape “never mind” you turned your head away from him sitting by the post next to you he sighed deeply “I don’t know why you act like this I love you can’t you see” feeling anger rush through your body love him?? Oh please “you don’t love me I’m sure this is one of you fantasies and if you think I’ll love you you’re mistaken I have a boyfriend and he isn’t a creepy pervert like you” whilst you continued your rant you could sense jeno was getting angry his fists clenched as his eyes got darker you didn’t give a fuck about his emotions until a harsh slap was planted across your soft cheeks

“No way” your eyes widen as the aftermath of the slap tingled “im so sorry sweetie that was just a precaution I’ll warn you next time to never talk bad about me like I don’t have you at my mercy” tears rolled down your cheeks as he smiled your turned yourself away from him “y/n don’t be like that it’s your fault” he hummed trying your best to tune out his voice “y/n I will hit you again if I have too” you didn’t care you just wanted him gone his rough hands forced your face to look at him he left a harsh slap across your face messing your hair up more

Your eyes filled up hatred as he smiled at you “let me see that pretty face” pushing some hair away from you face he cupped your cheeks “we were made for each other why can’t you see that” you felt disgusted how could he hit you like this and try to be caring after, you looked at him with hatred he sensed it gripping his hold on your face it felt like he could break your jaw “y/n I can cause you worse pain than just slapping you around” his eye smile returned as he stood up sliding a brown box from under your bed pulling some gloves out he slid them on his thick fingers before pulling out a syringe, a long needle and a mini bottle filled with liquid that you would only see at the doctor

He attached the needle and syringe before sticking it in the bottle filling the syringe with the liquid he placed the box carefully on the floor as he slid it back under the bed “y/n you brung this upon yourself” he stocked the needle in your arm the soft pinch of usual spots caused you to jolt a bit he pulled the needle out of your arm as you began to feel tingly he placed the needle on the nightstand along with his gloves he patted your head leaning down to plant a kiss on your lips “I’ll see you when you wake up y/n” another kiss was planted on your lips as he stood up from the bed and walked out the room at this point the sedative took over your body as you blacked out

[kinkyaceyqt]

8,10,27,28 of the 75 questions (also ask me tooooooooo im bored and interested)

HI oh my god i kept meaning to go back and answer this ask and then COMPLETELY forgetting im so sorry 😭 and then i cldnt find the original post w the asks slkjfdsdlkjf but i finally found it so lets do this!!

8. Do you like having your nipples touched? yessss omg i love it, i fondle my own tits/nipples constantlyyyyy even if im not actively masturbating, just cause of how good it feels slkdfdslkj

also, fun fact abt me: i can also suck my own nipples, and take full advantage of that fact often when masturbating 🤭

10. Have you ever been fisted? i havent, but ive recently started learning to fist myself (ass and pussy) 🥴 i can get all 5 fingers in but i havent managed to get past my last knuckles :( practice makes perfect tho, i think i can do it!!

27. Describe your masturbation routine, technique, etc. ooooh okay well i usually masturbate in bed on my back w knees spread so i can get easy access to my cunt as well as my inner thighs, which i loooooove stroking 🥰 it tends to start w me reading smut and/or scrolling horny tumblr, tho lately its also been starting w me sexting a mutual, which is so fun dskfjldsklfj if im already p horny i'll prolly start with a toy, usually my vibe w/ clit sucker, but if i feel like going slow i'll start w my fingers, just rubbing + pinching my clit while rolling my hips. once i do start using my toy tho i usually have to put my phone down so i can focus 😅 from there its just me grinding against my toy, pushing it down against my cunt/clit and raising the vibration level until it pushes me over the edge. i almost always cum multiple times when im masturbating, so ill just keep my vibe on my pussy until my clit gets too sensitive to keep going. sometimes ill flip over to lay on my stomach and clench my thighs together to hold my vibe in place, or sit up and grind against a pillow, but laying on my back is def my most common position. if i dont use that vibe, i also love using my bullet vibe on my clit while fucking myself with my dildo <3 my arm gets tired p quickly tho so i can only do that if i know im gonna cum quickly

28. What do you masturbate to (porn, smut, imagination, etc.)? lately its been either scrolling horny tumblr or sexting with a mutual, but previously id either read smut fic or just play out fantasies in my head. i have a few go-to fics/fantasies that i know will get me wet almost instantly sdlfjdslkfj very very rarely ive tried watching porn but GOD im so picky and so much porn just sucks ass (in a bad way) slkdfjsdlkfj i do love audios tho, they tend to be better than videos

ahhh ty for sending me these, this was so fun!! if anyone else wants to send me some questions the list is here ^-^

[fangaminghell]

In which Cain finally heard the words he's been waiting for since forever now

~~~~

The music of the night club was muffled now, the two of them sitting atop the place's balcony. Cain had teased about them going someplace quiet, and to his surprise, Leo agreed. He wasn't exactly expecting him to actually agree with him, he was joking after all....but he's certainly not complaining.

So now, the two sit in silence, the music of the nightclub behind them. Leo is nervous, playing with his rings and stubbornly not looking at Cain. A tiny piece of him wonders if he did something wrong, but he pushes it aside to start a conversation.

"...Oooookaaaaaaaay,what's wrong?" Cain asks, causing Leo to tense up. He's still silent, but Cain can see his fist clenching.

" Leooooo. Come ooooon. You can tell me, yeah? Please?" He leans over to Leo, giving him his best puppy dog eyes, " Pwetty pwease, senpai?"

That manages to get a laugh out of Leo, and Cain smiles, laughing as well.

Cain finds him inching closer next to Leo. Out of habit. It still amazes him how bad he has it.

" I-" Leo starts after his laughter subsides, no longer as tense as he was before. He stops himself,shaking his head, and his eyes look as if he's trying to figure the words for say.

" ...Do you still see me as a friend?"

"Of course," Cain says immediately, not even stopping to think, " You're my best friend, Leo"

'I love you so much,' he wants to say. Though he's sure by this point the two knew that....right? Cain tries not to think about Leo's ex.

Leo nods slowly, and his cheeks suddenly become red. He doesn't look at Cain, clearly nervous. Cain feels himself holding his breath. Is this happening.

" Do you....want to be something more?"

Is this fucking happening.

Cain has, a bit embarrassingly, imagined this day multiple times. Though back then it was a wonderful fantasy that he would indulge himself in, which was almost always shattered when seeing Leo in the arms of that fucking bastard. Cain often imagined him saying a little quip, something that would make Leo's face all red and flustered. But he can't find that quip now. He has to know if this is happening. He needs to.

" Are you asking me out?" Cain says breathlessly, surprised by how strained his voice suddenly got.

Leo nods again, his face growing more red. But he's still not looking at Cain. It's only then Cain realizes that Leo is trying not to cry.

" Oh, Leo," Cain coes,taking a hand and cupping Leo's cheek, gently making Leo face him, " What happened? What's wrong?"

The physical touch seemed to break the damp,as Leo's tears finally shed. Cain wants nothing more than to kiss those tears away. It wouldn't be the first time Cain felt like this.

" I-I just...I made you wait so long. A-and I pushed you away when you just trying to help me I-" Leo sniffs "I just feel so bad. I don't feel I have a right to ask you-"

" Leo I need you to know that's bullshit,"

" Wha-"

" I mean, it's not, your feelings are valid, but to think that you should have the right to ask me something or not...that's bullshit."

" B-but-"

" I know it's going to be hard to believe. Trust me, I know, but..." He takes Leo's hands in his, " You have to trust me that's it's true,".

Leo's eyes shine with water, and he lowers his head in shame.

" I'm really sorry, Cain. I'm sorry this took so long" he says softly. Cain shakes his head.

" You don't have to apologize....if anything, I should. I...I ran away. Again. From you,from us...I thought the void would have at least taught me something, ha"

The two sit in a comfortable silence, Leo sniffing away his tears, hands in Cain's. Cain loves how warm Leo's hands are. He doesn't want to let go.

" Cain," Also Leo breaks the silence, and finally, finally looks at Cain in the eye. His face is flushed and his eyes are determined. Are filled with love.

" I love you, Cain. I love you so much-" Cain can feel his own tears coming, " I know you said I shouldn't apologize but I'm going to anyway. I'm sorry I took so long. I'm sorry I ran away in the void. I'm sorry for pushing you away. But I need you to know that I love you,"

Cain laughs, stained as it mixes with his tears. He leans closer to Leo, their faces barely apart.

" Can you say that again?" Cain whispers, almost childlike, as if he said it any louder someone else who take it.

" I love you, Cain," Leo whispers back, and now Cain knows he's crying. He laughs,their forehead, touching, and a sense of overwhelming relief and joy waves through his body.

" I want to kiss you. Can I kiss you?" Cain asks, and he knows he's gonna be running on this high for weeks. Months even. Leo- who's face is as red as a berry- let's out a breathless 'yes'.

Cain kisses him to the sun and back, one big kiss on the lips and a thousand ones all over his face. It leaves Leo in a giggling mess and Arceus its wonderful. It's all he could have ever dreamed. He loved him. He loved him.

One last kiss on Leo's lips and Cain finally realizes that the two are very much not on the ground. Leo must have floated them up when kissing. So this was what Taka was talking about. He was right. It's an amazing feeling.

" I would love to go out with you Leo" Cain confirms, honestly too overjoyed to care about floating. Leo holds him tight, and Cain can literally feel his joy too.

" I- I'm glad!"

" Are you going to ask Cal and Taka?" Leo's head shot up, cheeks red, eyes widen.

" I-is that okay with you?"

" Are you kidding," Cain laughs, " Of course I'm okay with it, I'm pretty sure we were unofficially dating at one point," Cain snorts.

" Besides, they're hot, and which means more fun for me~" Leo's face explodes into a deep red.

" CAIN!"

" What? Am I wrong? We both know they're great in bed-"

" CAIN!!!! "

Cain laughs the hardest he ever had in his life.

[teabreakpancakes]

Appease Me Scaramouche x GN Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Warning: Obsession, yandere-ish?

psst @kasdeyalilith @mirology @smittenroses @thatjadedhotmess @shizunxie

btw, how old is scara?, also, i added my own lil twist lol, oh and they wear a kimono because kimonos are pretty, also ngl, I pulled the last bit out of NOWHERE, it was just random, can you blame me though? i've been on here for like, 3 hours, maybe 4

Dark clouds roam the skies

The chain chimes, awaiting change

Howling for freedom

"If I stop playing your game, will you finally value me as much as I value you?" you mumbled under your breath, ignoring the tears running rampant against your cheeks.

Your eyes were stained with anguish, replaying the memory of him checking up on that stupid waste of space green haired researcher. He was so so cold to you, was he even the Kunikuzushi you had fallen in love with?

Why Why Why Why WHY WHY WHY—WHY WAS HE BEING SO CARING TO SOMEONE THAT HASN'T BEEN THERE FOR AS LONG AS YOU HAVE? you screamed to yourself, nearly pulling hair out from your scalp as banged your head against the wall.

"Have I been... r, replaced?" your voice cracked, facial expression falling, gradually growing dark. Gritting your teeth, you rip the necklace around your neck, throwing it onto your shared bed.

You turn on your heel, carrying nothing but jealousy, betrayal, heartache and a lot more words couldn't even begin to describe.

Scaramouche stands before you, breathless. "Please, stay with me, I know, I know what I did was wrong but please, give me just one more chance, just once more, please forgive me" his gaze sincere.

And yet, and yet

You don't want to concede just yet, you wished to see just how far he would go in order to get your forgiveness. The thought of him on his knees, pleading—begging for your forgiveness seemed too good to pass.

It's always been you, you on the ground, praising him and showering him in your attention, how would it feel for him to do the same for you?; Countless fantasies raced in your head, only fueling your desire, your borderline sick fucking desire to see the very man you've obsessed over for decades, centuries even, groveling.

"What if..." you draw out, reaching a hand out towards the puppet, straightening a stray strand of his indigo hair as he watches you intently—"I don't want to forgive you?" your voice fades to a whisper. Tucking the lock of hair behind his ear, you smile sweetly at Scaramouche, finding delight in the way despair pools within those gorgeous indigo eyes.

His mouth falls agape, grasping at the hand on the side of his head. Your expression grows helpless as he presses kisses into your palm—the warmth of his tears hitting your skin, your heart began aching at the sight of him so vulnerable.

You cup his face with both of your hands, wiping away the tears that seemed to be endlessly falling down his smooth pale skin. Crystal eyes stare into your own with desperation, silently begging you to stay as you've always done. I wish you had done the same for me when I cried your inner thoughts cried out, leaving a bitter taste on your tongue.

He leans into your touch, his hands holding onto you as if you're the only thing keeping him afloat. You kiss his temple, leaving lingering warmth on his cold skin. "Goodbye, Kunikuzushi" you bid, prying away his debilitated arms before turning to leave.

Scaramouche stands there, stunned and unmoving. Once he comes to, your silhouette had almost faded from view due to the sheer distance. He rushes after you—using his anemo vision in order to get to you faster, wiping away his tears messily.

He clutches the back of your clothing, holding back a choked sob. "P, Please, don't leave me, I," his trembling hands reach for your hands. Smack you slap his hands away gently why the hell would you hurt him physically? you loved him way too much to do that. His bottom lip trembles, heart falling to his stomach, Do you hate me? he wondered, clenching his fist.

"N, No, I'm sorry, don't hate me, d, don't hate me please" he pulls on the soft fabric of your clothing. He falls to his knees, burying his head into your kimono. "I'm sorry I'm sorry, I love you so much, don't leave me please (Name)" he sobbed, staining your clothes with his tears.

As much as it hurt to see him like this, it also fulfilled the desire to see him finally needing you as much as you did. But no no no, you mustn't stop the show there, you needed to see more.

"If.. you want me to believe you," you spoke, hooking a finger under his chin—making him look up at you with those tear filled eyes. "You're gonna have to prove it" you continue, face void of any emotion.

Scaramouche almost immediately bows till his head met the ground, "I, I'm sorry! I'll do anything to gain your trust back, I, I just want you by my side again—", you huff, "and I thought Haypasia was the one you wanted by your side" you sneered, voice laced with venom at the thought of that damned researcher ruining and coming in between you two.

"NO, I swear, you're the only one for me, the only one" he swore. Scaramouche began kissing your ankles, attempting to show his devotion. The action causes a soft reddish pink hue to paint your cheeks, the sight nearly making you combust, hell, you felt a damned pervert for enjoying it so much.

A soft giggle fell from your lips, sounding like music to his ears. "I believe you Kuni, get up already" you said, tone soft and laced with cheerfulness. The wanderer sits up, resting on his knees, full of hesitation.

You saw no merit to making him beg more, you had already seen what you wanted after all. Using the sleeve of your kimono, you wiped away the leftover tears on his cheeks. Slowly pulling him up, indigo eyes meet yours, visibly confused.

"I... I thought you hated me?" he whispered, head falling downcast. You hum, pulling his face down to meet yours. Mwah you peck him on the lips, stupefying him.

"No, I was just trying to see if you were being genuine" you hummed, pulling him into your embrace. "I already forgave you the first time... I just... wanted to see if I mattered to you as much as you mattered to me" they trailed off.

"I.. was wrong to treat you like that—I grew to be so used to you being by my side so I—" his voice croaked, tears building in his eyes once more. "Shh, hey, it's alright now, just don't do it again okay?" you whispered.

"I, I don't deserve you" he sobbed out, pulling you close.

extra:

You and Kunikuzushi had gotten married, with the blessing of Ei of course. Shortly after he apologised to you, you both had ventured back to Inazuma.

Of course, Yae nearly apprehended him because she thought he was still the Balladeer, but with the help of the traveller, you of course explained that he's changed and that you've returned in order to get his mother's blessing for your marriage.

Yae thought you were lying until she saw the rings on both of your rings, hell, she even had Paimon rant to her about letting the lovely couple get married already.

Oh, OH but the real hurdle of the entire ordeal was seeing Ei apologise to Kuni, you see, your lovely husband always thought his mother wanted to get rid of him—turns out she just wanted him to be free.

They were laughing about it at first but then they both started sobbing like crazy. "Psst, console your wife, I'll console my husband" I said to the fox lady, motioning for her to go comfort Mrs. Ei already.

Anyways, they made a huge deal out of our marriage, it was kinda awkward to see so many people at the venue but hey, at least we're married now? Mr. Morax, I mean, Mr. Zhongli even made us sign a contract.

Oh and, I told Kuni about the weird obsession I have over him, he thinks it's fine but traveler said I was a yandere?? I don't know what that is, haha.

Me and Kuni and considering asking his mother to make us a kid, because we obviously don't want a mortal kid of ours to die in front of our very eyes, yeah, no.

[jarofstyles]

138 !!!! with best friend harry

SPICY SPICY

______

“Were you just…. Masturbating?”

Harry’s face was flushed. Skin glowy and he was hidden haphazardly under the covers. She hadn’t knocked, having never knocked, but he must have heard her footsteps as she walked up.

Now… anyone with manners or common decency wouldn’t have mentioned it. No, they’d either excuse themselves or move on. But Y/N didn’t have good boundaries when it came to Harry, and she was a curious little thing. Too curious for her own good.

“Christ. Y’can’t knock and y’dont have a filter to save your life.” He rolled his eyes in disbelief, groaning as he hid his eyes under his arm. I didn’t help that the subject of the fantasies he had been rudely pulled from had walked in, not naked and not bouncing on his thick cock. It was rude, if you asked him.

“Oh, hush.” She giggled, laughing harder as Harry scrambled back as she crawled up on the bed with him.

“Oi! What the fuck are y’doin, love?” He laughed nervously, cock still pulsing under the covers. Y/N was fearless and he knew that, but they’d never gotten this close. Sure, they spoke about sex and were close physically but this was…. Something else entirely.

“Relax, H. M’just getting comfortable. You don’t have to stop on my account.” She actually was nervous. Heart beating fast. But it was the best idea she had. She needed to get over this hurdle. And she was so curious about it, she needed to see him. If he was comfortable… she would want it.

“Y’want…. You want to watch?” He said slowly, trying to understand. His cock throbbed in betrayal of his confusion, aching to be touched again.

“Mhm. If you’re okay with that, though.” She leaned in next to him and placed her cheek against his shoulder. “I haven’t seen a guy do it. And I’ve always wanted to see yours. Y’act like it’s big.” She laughed, eyes curiously peeking at the bulge under the covers.

“Uh… okay. It won’t be weird?” He asked again, making sure she wouldn’t be weirded out. Of course it had been his idea, and he had been close to orgasm so he was eager to get back into the groove of it. The idea of her watching made him even more horny, but again… he was cautious.

“Mhm, it’ll be fine, H. You’re being silly.Let’s see.” She urged, stroking her fingers over his arm. Comforting to her, arousing to him. She listened to him take a breath, and slowly lowered the comforter back down.

Her eyes widened. It was… big. Bigger than she had ever experienced. And it was…. It was hot. Thick, red tip glistening, her mouth watered a bit as she wondered how the precum dripping from the slit would taste like. Or how it would feel to have it throbbing against her tongue as she stroked it.

It wasn’t the first time she had these thoughts. But the first time truly seeing what she would be working with.

“Wow…” her breath voice went straight to his stomach. “You’ve got a right to be cocky.” He wrapped his hand around it after those words, squeezing himself at the base. It was so nice to have her looking at him. A breathless laugh left him as he shook his head.

“Thanks, petal.” He murmured. His best friend watched as he gave himself a few strokes, lulling his head back. Her cheek pressed against his bicep, watching intently as his thumb rubbed over the slit. He hadn’t expected her to speak, though.

“How’s it feel?” She whispered, stroking over the back of his wrist. The hand was free, and she was touchy. “Is it good?” Her face tilted up to look at him.

“Feels really good, yeah.” He licked his lip, breathing getting heavier. “Was at a good place when y’came in.” He laughed. The strokes were slow and steady, her eyes going back to the length. Her thighs clenched together, imagining how good that much cock would feel filling her up.

“M’sorry.” She whispered. “I’ll help.” He was shocked when he watched her lean up, bending close to his length and pursing her lips. He gasped when a string of spit dropped down, dripping on to the tip and over to meet his fingers. He nearly whimpered, the idea of her spit coating him a lot to process.

“Oh, fuck.” He cursed, throwing his head back when she did it again. This time using her hand to brush the hair out of her face and giving him a clear view of the saliva dripping from her lip and stringing from her bottom lip to the tip of his cock. “My god, Y/N.” He whined, lifting his hand up and breaking the spit from her bottom lip.

She laid back down, chest throbbing in time with the beat between her leg. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt you.” She licked her still wet bottom lip, watching his fist stroke faster now. “It looks…. Really nice.”

Her words were hesitant but he could hear the genuine tone. And the bit of arousal, at least he hoped Thats what it was. Testing his luck, he spoke back.

“Yeah? Y’like watching me get off, petal?” He asked, turning his face to look at her. Her eyes glued to his cock, dark. Legs clenched together, her hand holding his wrist while the other strokes up and down. The new slick and wet sound her spit had added to the strokes only added to his new arousal.

“Uh huh…” she was breathless, nuzzling her cheek against his arm. Suddenly shy, she was aroused and wet, but so focused on the filthy sight in front of her she could barely move.

“Didn’t know you were dirty like that.” He spoke quietly. Waiting. The little shift she did and slight tiny whimper cluing him in to knowing that this was effecting her just as much. “Do ya’ think you could do me a favor?”

Pushing the limits. He knew it. But he was so beyond horny, so hard and aching and she was giving him all of this beautiful material… he couldn’t help but push for more and more and more. It was her idea, after all.

“Yeah. Yah- I can.” She whispered with wide eyes. His hand was working himself steadily and she was doing her best to not show how worked up she was. But she couldn’t help it.

“Kay…. Can y’dip those fingers in between your legs…. N’lemme taste?” He breathed. “Don’t have to if y’dont want to. Promise. Just…. Want to taste it. I just sent t’taste it, M’not gonna last long, sweetheart.” He pleaded. Needing to taste her and see if what he imagined was what she was.

Y/N nodded, her own breathing picking up as she snuck her fingers under the band of her lounge shorts. A soft moan left her throat, guiding the fingers up her soaked slit and bumping over her clit. The image of her hand in her pants and her little noise made his orgasm approach sooner, a simple Christ spilling from his lips as he watched.

“Are you wet?” His voice was a deep, dark tone she hadn’t ever heard before. Her head tilted back and her glazed over eyes met his as she nodded, hips chasing her hand as she stroked over her swollen, needy clit again and circled a few times. “Good girl. Let me have my taste.” His words weren’t a suggestion anymore, and it only made her even more eager.

Tugging her fingers out, his spare hand guided her wrist to his mouth and immediately, he brought them between his lips. Closing them around the smaller digits, the sweet, tangy taste of her cunt coating his tongue as he dragged it between the two. It was even. Better than he imagined, a dark moan escaping his chest as he stroked himself harder. Thrusting into his hand, he sucked her fingers clean, Every single digit, even brushing his tongue over her palm to get any he missed.

“Fucking sweet. Fuck, M’gonna cum.” He panted. “Gonna cum with that taste all over my fucking tongue. You’re unreal.” He slurred, mouth dropping open as she took her hand that was slick with his spit and her taste, knocking his own hand off. The confidence swelled in her at his reaction to how she tasted, wrapping her smaller fist around him.

“Go ahead. Fuck my hand. Cum on it.” Her lips brushed his jaw. “S’a good boy, Harry. Come on. S’so soft around you, isn’t it?” She purred, pressing her body into his side. He let out a whimper, nodding as his lips parted again.

“Yes, yes, petal. Feels so good, oh god baby… M’gonna cum.” He panted, hips thrusting into her hand she held tightly around him. “Oh, feels… shit, it’s so good, you’re gonna make me cum.” He babbled, dizzy with incoming orgasm.

“Go ahead. Cum. Such a pretty cock, S’a honor to have it in my hand.” Her lips puckered just a bit against his stubbly jawline. “Cum for me, Harry.” She nuzzled against him with a slight nip and he was done for.

He let out a deep groan, cock throbbing and finally going over the edge. Coating her hand and his stomach with sticky cum, he fucked his pick into her soft hand and held her wrist to him until he was too sensitive, pulling it off. His head swimming in orgasm, heat and pure bliss.

His face turned to meet her lapping his cum off her hand, humming as she did so. And that’s when Harry realized he was completely screwed. This fantasy about his best friend… wasn’t just fantasy anymore.

[justthehiddleswrites]

Eat Your Words | Tom Hiddleston x Loki x Female Reader

A/N:�� It is Tom’s birthday!  My third one here celebrating.  And boy did I bring the filth.  Please read the warnings. And huge shoutout to @frostbitten-written​ for giving me the plot idea!  You are a smut sister of the first order!!

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Loki x Reader

Summary:  You mercilessly tease your husband about how amazing Loki is and how good he would be in bed.  You never realized that could be a reality.

Warnings: SMUT, sexual acts include: vaginal sex, anal sex, masturbation, anal fingering, double penetration (mouth and vagina, vagina and ass), oral sex (m receiving), a bit of voyeurism, a small bit of m/m kissing, cursing, aftercare, vaginal fingering

Taglists are open! Let me know if you wanted to be added to my tag list!!  Thank you for reading!

-

Tom knew about your not-so-secret obsession. You were a horrid liar and more so talking in your sleep.

“What are you reading, darling?” Tom tried peeking over your shoulder, but you slam the laptop shut.

“How about mind your business, Hiddleston?” You scrunched your nose at him.

“So more Loki porn.” he smirked as he walked past.

“The word is smut. And no.” You stared him down and he stared right back at you, leaning over the arm of the sofa. He raised an eyebrow. You squirmed in place. “It was fan art.”

“Cock or no cock?”

You grew hot. “Cock.” you threw a pillow. “Happy?”

Tom caught the pillow in the air and placed it back on the couch.

“No. How many times do I have to tell you to not throw the pillows?” His face broke out into a wide grin before plopping on the couch. “What is your fascination with Loki, darling? You realize I play Loki?” He clutched his chest. “If I wasn’t so self-assured, I might become jealous.”

You set your laptop down and sat up, rubbing his thigh. “Darling, I’m sorry…” Tom turned and smiled at you. “… but there is no way you can compare to Loki.” You burst into giggles and took off running, Tom fast behind you. He crouched down at the entrance to where the stairs are. The only thing between you and freedom was your husband.

“Take it back.” he growled.

“No. You are impressive, Tom. But Loki has the cock of a god.”

“One of these days you are going to have to eat your words.” Tom’s face broke out into a grin.

“Make me, Hiddleston.” you grinned back, bouncing back and forth.

He stood up, smile gone. “You don’t really want that, darling. Don’t tempt me.”

“Oh, what, you have Loki staying in the spare bedroom?” you mocked. “Get real, honey. Loki is a fiction and you are the man who plays him. You are my husband and I love you, but no one could fuck me like a god.”

Tom sighed. “I warned you, darling. If I catch you this time, I will show no mercy.” He chuckled. “And neither will he.” he muttered under his breath.

You barreled towards him before attempting to duck under his arm as you shoved all your body weight against him. Tom rolled his eyes and easily lifted you onto his shoulder.

“Put me down, Tom!” You pounded your fists against his back.

He carried you up the stairs and into the guest bedroom, dropping you onto the bed and walking towards a chair in the corner.

“Why am I here, Tom?” you glanced around.

Tom gestured to the other side of the room. “Ask your boyfriend.” he smirked.

You spun around to see a flash of light dissipate in the air. To find Loki standing there. In full armor.

“Now Thomas,” his voice deep and resonant. “We haven’t officially discussed my title.” he smirked as he strolled to where you are sitting.

Loki hooked a finger under your chin and took you in.

“What do you think?” Tom asked from the corner. He shifted in his seat. “She’s feisty.”

“Excuse you?” you snapped back. “I don’t know what you think you are playing at Hiddleston, but…” You stood, wagging your finger at him. Loki snatched your wrist, pulling you back against him.

“You married well, Thomas.” Loki hummed. Tom smiled from his chair. Loki cupped your cheek. “Very well.”

As he pressed you against his torso, you noticed Loki’s erection hard against you. You opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off… again.

“Tell me, pet.” His fingers ran down from your temple to your chin. “Is this how you imagined it?”

Your brow furrowed. “Imagine what?” You pushed away from him, only to slam back against Tom. “I don’t know what kind of joke this is…”

“Enough!” Loki yelled and turned away. “I know all about what you say about me, dove.” He settled into the chair once occupied. “How you read stories about my prowess in bed.” He took off his boots and wrist guard. “Drooled over art of my cock.” With a flick of the wrist, he removed his tunic and armor, leaving himself in just his trousers. He leaned forward licking his lips. “Dreamed of me fucking you.”

You gasped and glared at Tom. “YOU TOLD HIM!?”

“Not that he needed to.” Loki shifted in his seat and lowered his trousers just enough to pop his cock free. “Any hacker could find your browser history. And reading stories about being fucked by me and your darling Thomas…” Loki clicked his tongue as he stroked his shaft. “… naughty.”

Tom reached over and cupped your face. “Is this the fantasy, darling? Me AND him?” He leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Just say the word.”

You stared up at him and then your eyes trailed down to find Tom sporting a raging hard on. You shifted your weight and peeked around Tom to spy Loki still stroking himself. He gave you a wink.

“I don’t have all day.” Loki called out.

You had to admit the thought of the whole scenario was too erotic for words. Your mouth was suddenly dry, all the moisture in your body, pooled elsewhere.

“Yes.” you nodded.

Tom smiled and leaned in to kiss you, slipping your straps down off your shoulders. You reached out and cupped his cock through his jeans. A flash of light covered you and Tom, causing your clothes to disappear.

“Much better.” Loki growled from his seat, now naked as well. He motioned the two of you towards the bed. “Go on. Entertain me. Show me how well you fuck your wife.” His lips curled into a devious grin.

Tom eased you onto the bed and crawled on top of you. He could sense your nerves. “Just think of it like when we met on set. And my modesty sock fell off?”

You chuckled and nodded. Tom nipped at the spot behind your ear and you let loose a soft gasp. His hands traveled down to squeeze your breast, teasing your nipple into a hard pebble.

Loki grunted through his teeth.

“Darling…” Tom moaned, twisted so you were on top. His fingers find your folds wet. “Wet already?”

“Of course she is.” Loki commented, he stood and walked towards the bed. He ran his hand down your back and cupped your ass before slipping down, plunging a long finger inside of you.

He hummed. “Thomas, if you don’t move things along, I may just take her myself and make you watch.”

“Why don’t you both take me right now?” you purred, placing kisses along Tom’s neck and chest while Loki curled his finger inside of you and Tom lazily played with your clit.

“What a splendid idea, pet.” Loki commented. “The best idea I’ve heard so far.” He grabbed you by the waist and hauled you up, placing you on the bed on all fours.

Tom shifted around to be behind you, smoothing his hands over your ass. He bent over to whisper in your ear.

“Remember darling, how you commented about the cock of a god?”

You noticed Loki kneeling in front of her. His cock dripped pre cum from the tip. He was big, even bigger than Tom.

“Fuck me….” you hissed. Tom pushed into you with a snap.

“As you wish, darling. But now it is also time to eat your words.”

Your jaw dropped open to snap back at Tom, when Loki pushes his cock into his mouth.

You groaned against his cock, gagging slightly as he pushed most of his impressive length down her throat.

Loki groaned. “Thomas, she is exquisite. Why have you been hiding her away?”

Tom gripped your hips and snapped against you. “The same reason I hide everything away from you. I don’t want to share.”

You moaned as they thrusted into you in conjunction. Loki was more forceful than Tom. You hollowed your cheeks to suck off Loki.

“You’ve never had a problem sharing before.” Loki growled and pulled Thomas towards him, leaning over you by the scruff of his neck.

Loki’s lips pressed against Tom’s and he moaned. Loki pulled Tom’s head forward and slipped his tongue into Tom’s mouth. Tom groaned as he did the same.

You overheard the lips smacking and the mental image tipped you over the edge and you screamed around Loki’s cock and clenched hard around Tom, shuddering.

Loki pulled away and chuckled. He lifted your face to stare at him. “Did you cum little pet at the sounds of me making out with our dear Thomas?” Loki averted his eyes to stare at Thomas, who had pulled out of you, blushing. “What a naughty girl.” He shifted to lie back on the pillows. “My turn, Thomas.”

Thomas grunted. “She’s not prepared for me yet.”

Loki narrowed his eyes at him. “Whose problem is that?” Loki spread his legs wide. “Come here, pet, and ride me.”

You crawled over to Loki and straddled his hips. You grabbed his cock and lowered yourself onto him.

“Oh god…” you moaned as you settled against his thighs.

“Yes I am.” He gripped your hips and rocked you back and forth.

Tom stared at Loki. “Can you at least hand me that bottle?” He gestured at the bottle of lube on one pillow.

Your eyes widened. “You’re not going to…”

Loki magicked the bottle into Thomas’s hand. He squirted some on his fingers.

“You’ve been training, haven’t you? Wearing the plug I got you?” Tom’s hand slid between your cheeks, massaged your tight entrance, pressed you against Loki’s chest. “Or is that something else you have been lying to me about?” He slowly sunk his well lubed finger into your ass.

“FUCK…” you hissed. Tom stilled as did Loki to allow you to adjust.

After a few moments, Loki gave you ass a soft smack. “Pet…”

You rocked up and down on him as Tom slowly plunged his finger in and out of you. Soon he added a second one and you cursed again as he scissored them inside of you, opening you up.

“If you would train properly, this would be easier.”

Loki cupped your face. “And next time it will be me.” He kissed your lips. “Although I must say, fucking your cunt is a treat. So wet and tight.” He growled.

Tom pulled out his fingers and squirted out some more lube and ran his hand along his shaft.

“Loki…” Tom gave the god a knowing glance.

“Right…” He pulled you tight against him and kissed you with a passion. His fingers found your clit and stroked it.

Tom eased into you, he panted when he was fully seated against your ass. You were so incredibly tight around him.

“My god… darling… why have we… Loki….” Tom threw his head back when he gently thrusted into you.

Loki released your lips softly, a small trail of saliva connecting your two lips. Your eyes locked for a moment and you saw it, those same kind eyes. Loki smiled which turned to a smirk and soon he was full on grinning.

He bucked his hips and gasped. “You clenched even tighter around me.” He leaned down to purr in your ear. “Let’s see how you milk my cock as you come undone.”

The two of them alternated thrusting into you. Soon you were reduced to a whimpering moaning mess. The only words you knew were “yes” and “don’t stop.” Soon your orgasm washed over you, stronger than ever before.

“FUCK!” you screamed in a now hoarse voice. You spasmed and clenched around both of them before your vision went white.

“Ah… AH!” Loki moaned as he thrusted twice before spilling inside of you. Tom soon followed with a deep grunt, filling your other hole.

You fell against Loki’s chest, sweaty and spent. Loki smoothed down your hair. “You were exquisite, pet.”

Tom crawled beside the two of you, rubbing your back. “You did so well, darling.” He leaned down to kiss your cheek and lips and then pecked Loki’s lips.

“Hmm…” you hummed, still coming down for your high. “Thank you.”

Loki pushed the two of you up and leaned you into Tom’s arms. “Why don’t the two of you get cleaned up and meet me downstairs?” He licked his lips, taking in your form. “We have much to discuss.”

[yoongsisbae]

Caught! House of Cards - Chapter 2

WHOA I am amazed by all the love this story has received so far, chapter one has become my most liked post, huh?! I'm in shock, thank you! My thirst for muster Joon fueled this to be released earlier than anticipated, so enjoy! ;)

OT7 yandere!BTS x reader, Yoongi x reader & Taehyung x reader & Namjoon x reader focused this chapter

Warnings: 18+ dark themes, voyeur, masturbation A LOT of it, gaslighting & reader manipulation, shibari, intoxication, dubcon, choking, public nudity, sexual touching in public, dom!Namjoon & sub!reader

Word count: 5.3k

---

You press record and the red light on your webcam lights up. Your heartbeat races as you navigate the House of Cards website. You already have viewers and you’ve only just spent your time staring at the chat. You wish you had picked something sexier as you sit cross legged in an oversized shirt and sleep shorts. You wear a red eye mask to conceal your identity, part of an old superhero Halloween costume you pulled out from the depths of your closet. You felt like a dumbass. ‘Super Girl wouldn’t have to do this kind of shit.’

“Sorry, i-it’s my first time...m-maybe I could take suggestions?” You watch the chat move as you hold your breath. You wanted to sound sexy but you can’t stop stuttering out your words.

You’ve never been more anxious in your life, the ends of your fingers feel numb and you can hear your own pulse thumping in your ears. You’re openly inviting strangers to get off on your body, you’re about to expose yourself in ways you’ve never done before. This isn’t like sending a sexy photo to a boyfriend when you’re feeling needy, this is so much more reckless.

Just when you’re starting to regret doing this, just when you’re about to end the feed and hide in humiliation, a notification ding pulls you away from your thoughts.

Suga: take off your shirt

Your on-screen balance goes from zero to a hundred dollars. You gulp and your eyes go wide at the amount. A hundred dollars just to take your shirt off? That seems too good to be true.

‘Okay, this is what you signed up for, y/n. It's now or never!’ You mentally hype yourself up. You keep your mission in mind, make enough money to keep a roof over your head for this month.

Your shaky fingers find the hem of your shirt “F-for you-” you squint reading the username again, “For you, Suga.” You lift the shirt slowly off your body, exposing the curves of your breasts, revealing your red lace bra to your viewers.

The collar of your shirt gets stuck around your head. You feel like an idiot as you try to wrestle the shirt off your body without pulling off your mask.

---

Yoongi snorts at his screen, his lips curving up into a half smile. He sits behind two computer monitors. He watches as you stutter out apologies to your audience, entertained by your clumsiness.

He peers over his shoulder, to where his friends are playing a game of billiards. “Hey, we have a new one!”

“Oh yeah? It’s been awhile since someone joined.” Namjoon puts his pool stick down and walks over to Yoongi to get a closer look. He laughs, “What is she doing? Is this her first time?”

“It is,” Yoongi hums.

“Ah, well now I’m intrigued.” Namjoon pulls out his cell, quickly pulling up the website on his phone.

Yoongi licks his lips, “I think she’s cute.” He watches another hundred dollars add to your total as someone asks for you to remove your shorts. He notices the username and sends a glare to the man standing over his shoulder.

“What? Just trying to move the show along.” Namjoon gives Yoongi’s shoulder a shake. “You never did like sharing.”

“And you never knew how to properly take care of my toys.”

Namjoon laughs. He studies your figure and the way you move back and forth awkwardly on the bed. You’re trying to find the best pose for your request until you finally decide to lie on your back and lift up your hips, pulling your shorts down and off your legs so you’re in nothing but a bra and panties. He leans over Yoongi’s shoulder, eyes level with his monitor to get a better look at you. “She is very cute. I could have a lot of fun with her.”

Yoongi grunts. He watches you press the cups of your bra together to show your cleavage off for him. The chatroom viewer count jumps into 3 digits. You’re so eager to please your audience, he thinks, jumping at the chance to perform the simplest of requests. And he is eager to learn just how far he can push you.

Yoongi types a reply quickly and hits the donate button. He hears his friend let out a low whistle next to him.

---

A thousand dollars?! Someone just donated a thousand dollars. What the hell?

Suga: spread your legs for me. touch yourself.

Your breath hitches. You watch as another wave of viewers are added to the chat, another trickle of donations following. You feel high from their attention, and the money just keeps on rolling in! You've been so worried and stressed since lockdown happened and now you're almost guaranteed to accomplish your goal, finally something is going right, your heart jumps in excitement. It’s starting to feel...fun. You had discarded your embarrassment along with your clothes, thrown somewhere in a heap on the floor. You lean back on your palms and bring your knees together. You can feel the damp cloth of your underwear rub against your core. You’re ashamed to admit how turned on you are. The higher the viewer count goes the wetter you become. You slowly spread your legs to the camera, reveling in the game you're playing with your faceless admirers. Your eyes read over the chat, taking in all their praises of your body. Flattering compliments intermingled with salacious requests pass by the second, it’s overwhelming, and only serves to fuel your arousal.

---

Your sweet voice plays through Yoongi’s speakers, “Thank you Suga.”

“Oh fuck, she’s so wet.” Hoseok pulls up a chair next to Yoongi and Namjoon. They all stare at the screen, at the center of your light pink panties. There is a noticeable dark spot that propels the chatroom into a frenzy.

“Take a look at that view count, it’s one of our highest this month, right?” Namjoon asks Yoongi. He hums in acknowledgement. “They really have nothing better to do now that we’re all stuck in our homes,” Namjoon jeers.

The three men watch silently as your breathing escalates, taking note of how you shake and moan. Hoseok uses the camera on his phone to zoom in on your face scrunched up in pleasure and takes a snapshot.

Yoongi raises an eyebrow at his friend. “I’m just showing Jin! She’s his type.” Namjoon laughs. Hoseok cocks his head to the side in confusion while Yoongi scoffs.

Of course you're Jin's type, Yoongi thinks. You're so beautiful and Jin loves to treasure beauty. Jin loves to admire his treasures, taking pleasure in finding the cracks within perfection to break them wider. He's going to have to watch out for Jin.

Yoongi’s and Hoseok’s phones ding with a notification. “Did you have to do that?” Yoongi questions Namjoon, starting to feel annoyed. He pasted a link to your stream to the group chat.

“They are probably already watching. Look,” he points to your view count, soaring into the thousands. The man on his side gives him a dirty look.

---

You place your hands inside your bra and panties, still not comfortable enough to bare it all just yet. You cup your breasts and roll your hips into your palm getting off on the friction. Your soaked panties pull on your hips, stretch against your knuckles, revealing parts of you every once in a while to the camera. How many men had their dicks out right now, how many were falling apart with you? The thought made you clenched down on nothing, covering your hand in your essence. You pull your hand away from your core and put your palm in front of the camera, showing off your wet fingers to your faceless admirers.

---

Taehyung groans. You wiggle your fingers to him, traces of your arousal drip in between, he imagines himself licking each digit clean. He imagines his own long fingers stuffing you instead, pulling sweet moans from your lips, you dripping all over him. Fuck he wants to taste you, he bets you taste so sweet, just divine.

His hands fists his hard erection, his tongue between his teeth as he watches you on his laptop. Each time you cry out in pleasure, he thrusts into his clenched fist, imagining your tight cunt wrapped around him instead. Taehyung almost loses it when you let out a needy whine, imagining all the ways he could make you cry and whimper at his hands. He wishes he had you here so he could taste and smell your body, god if you were here he would make you cum over and over again until you cry and beg him to stop.

---

Someone sends you five hundred dollars, the second largest donation of the night.

V: You’re so beautiful

No request, no lewdness, nothing other than the simple phrase that you didn’t realize how much you ached to hear. Your face goes hot. You let your hand speed up. You try to imagine the words spoken, whispered in your ear, focus on them besides the dings of your laptop and wet sounds coming from your soaking core.

You imagine a man on top of you whispering how beautiful he finds you. You throw your head back lost in pleasure, letting your fantasies overtake you until the heat inside you bursts. You gasp and shudder, forgetting about the camera on you, riding out your high for as long as you can. The fantasy man leaves your thoughts as you come back down to earth, alone again in your room. Finally, you open your eyes, staring at the ceiling of your room. The chatroom dings and dings.

Now that you’ve reached your high, the flames of your arousal abruptly extinguishes, an icy current of mortification at what you’ve done hits you in waves. You sit up shakily, wiping the sweat off your brow. Too scared to look at your reflection, you look down at your keyboard instead, trying to steady your breathing.

“Thank you for coming to my first broadcast. I’m going to log off now.”

Instead of shutting off the stream you hold down the power button of your laptop to turn your entire computer off. You lay back down as your phone vibrates with a notification. The total sum of what you made on your first live stream. You can’t believe it, laughing at the ridiculousness of it. You pull the mask off your face and throw the offending material across the room. As you steady your breathing you push down the regret that creeps over you, thoughts that ring in your ears like a lecture from your mother, feeling shame and disgust at what you allowed yourself to become. Whatever, you did what you had to do.

---

It’s an hour before you have to clock out on your last shift of the week. Your manager pulls you aside to speak with you. There’s concern in his voice and a frown etched on his face, “He is here again.”

“Oh,” you grimace, why is he so early?! “He’s, um, here to pick me up.”

Your manager’s eyes go wide. “You’re going to go somewhere with that psycho?”

“I-I can’t say.”

“If it’s money again I can see about getting you some more hours.” He grabs a clipboard off the back wall, flipping through the schedule.

You wince. “No, it’s just something I have to do and then this should all be over and done with. It will be fine.” Will it be fine? You hope so.

He gives you a skeptical look. “Are you sure? You’re sure you’re going to be okay?”

You don’t know, but you nod your head regardless, “Yes.”

“Okay,” He sighs, still looking worried, “I’ll see you Monday?”

You give him a reassuring smile. “See you Monday. Have a good weekend.”

---

An hour later you clock out and Yoongi makes his way next to you. You were grateful he didn’t make another scene, he had sat in the corner sipping on coffee, hardly paying attention to you. He didn’t have to, not when he had your store's camera system connected to his phone.

You look him over, Yoongi looks as posh as ever. He wears all black, and tight pants that show off his, well anyways, why does he have to look so good? You huff, staring anywhere else, motioning your arm, “After you.”

The man gives you a wicked smile and offers you his arm. You resist the urge to roll your eyes, but reach for his elbow. You felt silly in your dirty work clothes holding onto him. Why did you even bother waking up early today to put on a face full of makeup when you just ended up sweating it off?

"Your manager doesn't seem happy to see me," he teases.

"I wonder why..." you send him a glare.

Of course this motherfucker has a Rolls Royce. You grumble next to him. Yoongi opens the passenger’s door for you and you slide inside. When was the last time someone has done that for you? Tinder culture has really screwed you in more ways than one. You watch as he circles to the other side, he looks so powerful and sexy.

Stop, what's gotten into you?! You push down the butterflies fluttering around in the pit of your stomach. When he starts the car, he leans over to you, invading your space and making you flinch.

“Calm down, I’m not going to hurt you.” His eyes travel down your body, “Unless you want me to.” His face is too close to yours, you can feel his breath on your skin as he smirks down at you.

He reaches for the strap of your seat belt, his body now entirely pressed up against yours and he pulls on the strap and buckles it for you. Your face grows hot, it felt like he was teasing you, his presence leaving you as quickly as it came. You swallow down the lump in your throat, wishing you had water for your suddenly dry mouth.

He had smelled good. Manly. It’s been so damn long since you’ve been on a date, under the excuse of social distancing, but really you’ve just stopped trying to go out on boring typical dates with normal boring men so you can have boring vanilla sex. It was a hassle, you had gotten used to the instant gratification from your viewers. But now you had neither. That's why you were so wound up, not because you wanted this smug asshole, no way.

As he reversed, you realize you have to give him your address. You bite your lower lip, thinking what to do. Maybe you can get him to drop you off somewhere close by, but Yoongi is already setting up the GPS with another location.

“Umm, I thought we were going to stop by my house first.”

“Why?”

“So I can change?”

“Not necessary, you can change on the boat. I have clothes for you since I noticed you never cashed my check.” His piercing eyes flash with anger, the accusation making you shift uncomfortably. Cashing Yoongi's check made what was happening feel like a transaction, and you weren't willing to give him that power over you.

“I-I did not agree to get on a boat with you,” you frown, red flags popping up in your head at the thought of being alone in the middle of nowhere, out at sea, with a stranger who says he’ll hurt you if you ask him to.

“You agreed to go to a party with me. That’s how we get to the party, sweetheart.”

Dammit.

---

When Yoongi said boat you didn’t realize he meant yacht. It’s huge. He leads you into the main cabin, there are clothes already laid out for you on the bed.

He shows you how to work the shower before leaving you alone. You know you were washing off the sweat and grime of the day to make yourself presentable for this party of his, but why did you feel like you were cleaning yourself up for Yoongi specifically. It made you feel uneasy. You tried to silence the alarm bells ringing in your head and focus on getting ready. It's just one night out and then you can say goodbye to Yoongi forever.

The dress was black and tight. It hugged your curves and showed off your cleavage. You can admit it was a hot dress and you felt hot in it. It’s exactly the style you like, as if Yoongi had pulled it right out from one of your favorite Pinterest boards. You sigh as you look at yourself in the mirror, the dress came with a set of lingerie that you almost didn’t put on, embarrassed by wearing underwear picked out by a man you knew nothing about. This wasn't like the times you let your viewers choose your outfits for broadcast, this was different...right?

You decide to go all out with makeup, realizing there is no doubt going to be many beautiful people at this party that look as attractive and expensive as Yoongi, so you might as well try to blend in. You put on the finishing touches, a dark red lip, when there’s a knock on the door.

Yoongi walks in, he’s changed too. He's wearing a black button down and black pants, it matches your outfit. Almost all of his fingers are adorned with silver rings. His hair styled in an unkept bedhead way that makes him look younger. You try not to stare or think about how ridiculously handsome he looks.

You look breathtaking, Yoongi thinks, ‘Only one thing missing.’ He pulls out a black choker with a gold pendant from his pocket. “For you, I think it completes the look.” He gives you a genuine smile.

“I-I...Thank you.” you don’t know what else to say. His fingertips graze your collarbones, lighting a trail of fire across your chest. Yoongi clasps the choker around your neck, the pull against your sensitive skin gives you goosebumps. His pointer finger finds its way under your jaw to lift your chin up. “Ready for some fun?” You leave with Yoongi before you have time to inspect his present, notice that on the gold heart pendant there are initials delicately scrawled in the middle. ‘MYG’

---

You enter the party mesmerized. An island. A mansion. A secret paradise. A place where the party never needed to end.

The hall is decorated from top to bottom in gold and crystal, intricate glass centerpieces and art at every corner, but what caught your eye and made your heart drop into the pit of your stomach was an entirely different kind of centerpiece. Around the main room, suspended from the ceiling, gold ropes dropped in a dozen different areas. The most beautiful women you’ve ever seen hung under spotlights, the rope tied in intricate patterns around their naked bodies, each placed in a different position. Saliva pooled inside your mouth as you watched in awe.

Party goers gravitated to them, watching the women as they ate finger food and drank. Yoongi’s breath tickled the back of your neck as he whispered in your ear. “You look like you want to join them,” His dark eyes narrowed on you.

“I’m just admiring the view,” you try to act unaffected by his words, “Don’t get your hopes up. I’m hungry,” you whine, changing the subject, you let Yoongi pull you through the crowd.

---

Jungkook grips his wine glass so tight the stem breaks in half, the glass pieces cutting the palm of his hand. He is so full of rage he barely feels the sting, letting the blood drip on his expensive suit. That conniving little man Yoongi has his hands all over your body. How did he have you? Had this been his plan all along? Did Yoongi convince you to leave the site so he could have you all to himself? And you fell into his trap! Jungkook knows it’s not your fault for being manipulated, he knows how devious his business partner can be, but he wants to punish you just the same. He has to tell someone. Taehyung will know what to do! He searches for his friend, before he goes straight to Yoongi and kills him instead.

---

“Min, please introduce us to your date!” The crowd parts as two men advance towards Yoongi. You were just getting used to Yoongi’s cold reserved demeanor when his friends’ beaming playful attitude catch you off guard. The pair is full of energy, they commanded attention, and you could tell by their looks they most certainly were used to being in the center of it.

“You know who she is,” Yoongi rolls his eyes, his hand around your waist pulling you closer to him. What did he mean? Were they-

“But we haven’t formally met! I’m Hoseok, you can call me Hobi.” He winks at you and gives you a bright smile. “This is Jimin!”

‘Jimin.’ That name is familiar to you. No way, this beautiful man is not your Jimin. Not one of your top donators Jimin. No way in hell-

“I’m so happy to have finally met you in person, Dahlia.” Jimin holds your hand in his and brings your fingers to his lips, giving you a small wink. Oh my god he’s attractive. This is the same man who paid you for late night private chats, crying about how lonely he was, he is that Jimin. You’re so astonished you don’t even register the way Yoongi’s fingers dig into your hip in jealousy.

Hoseok and Jimin are fun. The three of you drink another round of sparkling champagne as the duo takes turns telling you wild stories, making you dissolve into a fit of giggles. Yoongi sips on his whisky while he watches the three of you roar with laughter. He doesn’t mind, he uses their charm to his advantage. As expected around the extroverted pair you start feeling more comfortable, you let your guard down around Yoongi, so Yoongi doesn’t mind. You're his date after all, you’re his.

“Looks like everyone made it!” Jimin waves at a trio of men headed towards your group.

“Almost everyone,” Yoongi corrects. He drapes his arm over your shoulder and you lean into him, your body swaying from the alcohol in your system. Yoongi delights in the way the men looked at you in his arms, the visible shock and anger on their faces. “Y/n, this is Seokjin, Taehyung, and Jungkook.”

You nod in their direction, barely regarding them, instead giggling at Jimin who is making a funny face at you trying to steal your attention.

“Namjoon says he’s sorry he couldn’t make it, something came up.” Taehyung addresses Yoongi.

Yoongi frowns at the information, it’s not like Joon to change plans so suddenly.

“I need to use the restroom, excuse me.”

“I’ll show you where it is,” Yoongi begins to take you, but Taehyung’s hand grips Yoongi’s shoulder, pulling him back. “Let the lady go, it’s been so long since we’ve all seen you, Yoongi. I missed my friend. You can make your way, right baby?”

Six heads turn to look at you and you feel hot under their intense stares. “Um, yea-yes, I’ll be right back.” You leave before Yoongi can protest.

---

This place is huge. You can’t remember how you found the bathroom or how to get back to Yoongi, and the room felt like it was spinning. The party had become louder, more obnoxious as drugs and alcohol loosened everyone’s inhibitions.

You shouldn’t have drank so much, you didn’t realize how much alcohol Jimin and Hobi had been feeding you until it was too late, and now you could barely make out people’s faces. What are you going to do? Yoongi had your cell in his pocket, why did you give it to him? Jimin had grabbed it out of your hand to put his contact information in, and handed it back to Yoongi instead. You didn't even protest, you were too busy being mesmerized by Hoseok as he swayed his hips to the music playing, rolling his body to the beat.

You lean against an empty space of wall, between two couples obnoxiously making out. You’re all alone in a strange house with no way to call for help, the gravity of your situation hits you all at once and your head begins to throb.

Maybe if you can make it to the second floor you can spot Yoongi and the others in the crowd. You stumble your way to the stairs, hoping your plan works.

You see Yoongi. The bastard is still drinking his whisky while his friend’s banter amongst themselves. You exhale, finally calming down. The fresh air away from everyone helps to take away your dizziness. You watch the six men, they are all so good looking. They have to be the most attractive men at the party. You didn’t notice how intimidating the group looks, finding it funny how party goers instinctively keep their distance from them.

The three new men are tall and big, they could be models, or maybe athletes, you should have paid attention when Yoongi was introducing you to them. What were their names, Junhyung? Taejung? If Yoongi was a House member, and Jimin was a House member, could they all be...no.

You’re about to turn to leave when hands cover your mouth and grab at your waist. Your scream is completely muffled out behind the stranger’s large hand.

He holds you in a suffocating embrace, covering both your mouth and nose, you realize you really cannot breathe. You try to pry his hand off your face but it’s impossible, he’s too strong and too big, easily overpowering you. The air in your lungs is trapped inside of you as you try to scream. Is this how you die?

“Hey baby.”

‘RM.’ The last time you met him, you had your vision taken, so you could never forget the unmistakable deep rumble of his voice.

Your mind is reeling. You stop fighting against his hold and he finally removes his hand, placing it around your neck instead. You gasp and cough out, inhaling air quickly, afraid your breath will be taken away again.

You guess it made sense, first Jimin now RM, were all the party goers members too? The thought terrified you. You had no idea what your viewers looked like, yet they all knew what you looked like naked. Just how many knew who you were? It made you queasy, you shudder against RM. RM, a top donator, plastered against your back, it felt like a fever dream.

You remember all the times you flirted with him behind the protection of your computer screen, now there were no digital barriers to stop his advances. No house rules to lessen his stifling touches.

“I missed you, baby. I’m a little upset you stayed away for so long, but seeing you here dressed up so pretty, like a present I get to unwrap, I can forgive you.” The hand that held your waist down against him traveled up your stomach, between your breasts, until it settled around your neck as well. “I’m so so glad you came back to us.” His deep velvet voice rumbled in your ear, making your legs tremble.

His strong fingers begin to massage your neck. It feels so good, you bite back a moan. Namjoon rubs deep circles into your shoulder blades. You can’t help but melt into his relaxing massage, your nerves had been wound so tightly before, his expert fingers finding each knotted muscle in your back. You try to sneak a glance behind you, but every time you try, Namjoon’s hands find your jaw, keeping your attention forward.

“How is Yoongi treating you?” RM knows Yoongi? You felt so out of the loop, you tried to make sense of it all but you could only concentrate on the way his fingers pressed against your skin.

“He’s being a perfect gentleman.”

“A 'gentleman,'” Namjoon laughs, “Are we talking about the same man?” You roll your head as his fingers work the tense muscles of your neck. His thumb runs underneath your choker, ever so slightly tightening the fabric around your skin. “He was planning to keep you all to himself,” Namjoon tuts.

Anger erupts inside of him as he notices the piece of jewelry, and he pulls you into another crushing embrace, his hands underneath the curves of your breasts. “Now what would he do if he saw you in my arms, hmm?” He makes you walk back to the balcony, hands groping your chest and body pressing you forward into the banister. Truthfully, you’re scared of what Yoongi would do if he saw you, you had no idea what he was capable of, but the pleasure RM was giving you was hard to fight against.

“RM, please...” you don’t know what you’re begging him for, to let you go, to touch you more.

“Look at him.” His voice deepens, his authoritative tone makes you whimper in his arms.

His arms travel to your waist, his fingers pulling at the hem of your dress, lifting it tortuously slow. His fingertips ghost over your lace panties. “Look at how wet you are, dirty girl.” He pulls them down your thighs. If anyone were to look up, they’d see you completely bare. The thought makes you pulse.

Taehyung and Jungkook had come to Namjoon to tell him what Yoongi had done. Namjoon almost felt bad, Yoongi was like a brother to him, so Namjoon knew how much he cared about you. But why would he parade you around in front of the others, like a sweet treat on a platter? Yoongi surely knew them all well enough to know they'd want to take a bite.

“Now keep your eyes on Yoongi, what is he doing right now?”

You start to speak and Namjoon pushes two fingers inside you, all the way in to his knuckles. You let out a gasp, and he pinches the sensitive skin of breast through your dress. “Answer daddy, baby girl.”

You fight back tears, your mouth goes dry as you try to hold yourself together. “H-he’s talking to Hobi.” Namjoon inserts another finger into you at the nickname you use for his friend, the stretch is bordering on painful, making you cry out. You try to stifle your whimpers, it just turns Namjoon on even more. He grinds his erection into your ass. His smell, his dirty words, his roughness, you've forgotten how much you craved it.

“Hobi, is it? When did you and him become so friendly? Baby, you’re making me jealous. Is that what you want?” With three fingers inside you, he sets a punishing pace. It’s been awhile since you’ve felt so full. Perhaps the last time you truly felt like this was by RM himself. You pulse around his fingers at the memory. Your legs shake as his thumb finds your clit, pressing into your sensitive hood. “P-please…”

“Please what?”

“Please let me cum, Daddy.”

He groans in your ear. “Hmm no.” He pulls his fingers out of you, you hold onto the banister as your orgasm escapes you. Your body shakes with need.

“You’ll come find me later tonight, won’t you, baby girl?” His warmth leaves your body, when you turn around no one is there.

---

Oh my so many questions, not many answers. Will you see your manager on Monday? Lol thank you again for enjoying my story, let me know what you think! <3

[callme-barnes]

A Lesson in the Art of Seduction

*GIF does not belong to me!*

Summary: You love the way Bucky sounds when you’re making him fall apart. So after a night out, you decide to put a little plan into action to fulfill one of your fantasies. 

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,310

Warnings: SMUT (possibly poorly written), oral sex (m! receiving), IF YOU ARE A MINOR PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT! 18+ only!

A/N: Again, 18+ only! Minors DNI! Please do not repost my work anywhere! I wrote it for Tumblr so it should stay on Tumblr. Idk what the title is that’s the hardest part of this writing stuff! This is my first time ever writing smut of any kind. I’m surprised I was able to get it out on screen but I’ve had this idea on my mind all day so I guess that’s why I was able to finish it. Again, I’m not thinking much about posting this so I won’t back out so all mistakes are mine! Enjoy!

_____________________________________

If there was one thing about James Buchanan Barnes, just one thing, that you could enjoy every single day for the rest of your life was the way he sounded. The way he grunted after lifting something heavy. His gasping for air when he came back to the apartment from a run. The moans and groans in protest when you needed to get out of bed in the morning for work but he wasn’t quite ready to let you go just yet.

And then there was the not so PG version of those delightful sounds.

The grunting when he seated himself inside of you after a short dry spell when he went on a mission. The gasps you pulled out of him when you were riding him like you might never be able to again. The moans and groans he presented to you when he was fucking you into the mattress. Him fucking you was something you wanted until the day you would die to be honest. The power you felt you held, to be the reason the ex Winter Soldier was falling apart at the seams, was the best thing to have in your true opinion. It's a power you liked to take full advantage of, as well as test out every now and again.

Which brought you to this very moment in time. You were hardly the type to be jealous. It was a promise you made to yourself after a young life full of jealousy in partners. The feeling you had within you right now was not one of jealousy exactly, but more playful curiosity. You were both returning from a public Avengers event, a little earlier in the night than expected but the feeling you were feeling just couldn’t wait. It bubbled to the surface when you watched an investor get a little too close to Bucky. It seemed like the more their conversation went on, the closer she got and the more hands on she decided to get.

When you made your way over to them to join their conversation, the woman pulled out her card, handed it to Bucky and walked away, probably wanting to keep that mystery working for her. You remember the move well, it was what you used on Bucky when you first met him. You smirked to yourself when you approached him, him reiterating what the woman spoke to him about and you nodded in acknowledgment, your eyes peering up at him through your lashes, sending him a knowing look. A knowing that only you knew what was going to happen tonight, and he had no idea what was going to be coming to him.

Bucky had walked up to your apartment building and unlocked the door before stepping in and removing the jacket he had on, you following close behind him.

“Who would’ve thought these functions would start to become a monthly occurrence”

You laughed as you set your bag down on the counter and slipped off your heels, “Yeah well you are a part of the team. The rich people gotta know who their investing in after all”

Bucky reached out to you and hugged you to his chest, the gesture making you even more ready to show him exactly what you were all about. Just before he reached down to press a kiss to your neck his pocket began to vibrate. He let out a small groan, one of those cute little frustrated groans that you loved hearing from him so much. He reached in and pulled out his phone and answered, his face lightly exasperated. You heard a woman on the other side and you smirked a bit to yourself, realizing it was the woman from the party.

The plan you had to begin the night was in rotation, thanks to not only your scheming, but Natasha’s willingness to help you. Before you left you asked for the assistance from the super spy to get the woman from the party to give Bucky a call. You left Bucky’s side, his lips turning down into a frown as he began to hold a conversation, although it was very clear to you he would rather start doing something else.

You made your way to the room, slipping off your jewelry and letting Bucky drop his guard a bit. He had to be completely oblivious in order for you to get the reactions you wanted to get from him, and you were more determined than ever to get him to be vocal tonight. You knew he wouldn’t look at any other woman the way he looked at you, but tonight you wanted to just show him exactly why that was. You wanted him to fall apart, and you wanted to be the reason he did.

After about 5 minutes, you walked out to the living space seeing Bucky had unbuttoned the top button of his shirt and was sipping on a beer, sitting down on the couch as he continued his conversation. He looked up, giving you an apologetic look since he wasn’t supposed to be exactly working right now. You smirked a bit to yourself as you sent him back a reassuring smile before you pushed yourself away from the doorframe you were leaning against.

You maintained eye contact with him as you swayed your hips and made your way over to the couch. Bucky’s eyes watched you very closely, the way your hips moved and the way your legs looked in the dress you were wearing made his body react and you knew that. You made your way behind him, the sofa back separating you from him as you reached your hands to his shoulders. You began to massage his shoulders a bit, your fingers kneading into the thick muscle that was present there. Bucky let out a soft sigh in response, leaning back and enjoying the actions you were making. You leaned over to kiss the side of his neck as your hands slipped down from his shoulders to his chest, your lips now traveling up to his ear.

“Pay attention to your phone call Bucky, let’s not be rude”

The tip of Bucky’s tongue flicked out against his bottom lip as you made your way to stand in front of him, his eyes roaming down against you once again. You smiled at him before you ran your hands down the front of your body, making your way down to your knees in between his parted legs. Bucky made to sit up before you moved to press him back against the sofa again.

“I’m sorry can you hold for a second…”

You raised an eyebrow at him as he pulled the phone away from his ear, “What do you think you’re doing pretty girl?”

Your hand trailed down his chest, to his abdomen and continued its way down until you reached the tent that was fully formed in his dress pants, the hitch in his voice like music to your ego.

“Just being productive while you're preoccupied. Shouldn’t keep her waiting, finish your phone call James”

Bucky muttered a quick ‘fuck’ under his breath before he pulled the phone back to his ear, “I’m really sorry about that what were you saying?”

You maintained eye contact with him as you popped open the button to his pants and unzipped him, your other hand resting on the thickness of his thighs before making its way to release him from the confines of his briefs. His thick cock sprang free, slapping him lightly on his lower abdomen as your eyes moved from his face to the entire reason you were down on your knees. You sent him a smile, taking him in your hand and bringing him to your lips, the way his abs tightened making you more than excited to continue.

Bucky’s free hand reached down to caress your cheek and made its way up into your hair in anticipation. Your tongue reached out and began to lick at his dick slowly, taking your time to really map out where it was that made him shiver and clench up. You gave him that sultry look between your lashes and you could’ve sworn you saw his soul leave his body as you leaned up and took him into your mouth. You took your time, working on the tip of his dick before you felt you had him on edge enough to take him further into your mouth towards the back of your throat.

“Oh fuck...shit”

Bucky’s hand tightened into your hair, not quite pushing you down just yet but just holding onto you to keep him grounded in a way, “Sorry I was...I dropped something”

You internally laughed as you bobbed your head up and down his length, your hand fisting and pumping at the rest of what you weren’t quite ready to bless him with yet.

“No I don’t….I don’t think that would be a problem”

Bucky sounded breathless as he spoke, the way he was trying to maintain control was cute to you, but you knew you had him exactly where you wanted him. You wanted him breathless, and you wanted to be the reason why. You kept your pace, jerking him off and sucking him as he continued his conversation. When you felt he had gotten too comfortable controlling himself you removed your hand and pushed your head down to take in the rest of him down your throat, gagging around him in response. Bucky quickly jerked up in surprise, causing his hand to hold onto your hair tighter and pressed you down in the process.

“Shit! Holy fuck”

His hand reached to the back of your head as you sped up your head bobbing, now taking it upon himself to push you down against him and letting his hips meet you halfway into your mouth. You looked up at him again to gauge his face and holy fuck you were sure you were going to cum with how he was looking. His eyes were closed, his lips parted and in that tiny grin that you loved seeing on him because it meant he was thoroughly enjoying himself. Bucky twitched in your mouth, the beginnings of his orgasm coming when you suddenly slowed down your movements, wanting to keep him on the edge for as long as you possibly could.

“No I just...fuck I’m going to have to call you later. I’m sorry”

Bucky quickly hung up and through his phone behind him, his other hand reached over to join his grip on your head, causing you to let out a moan in response.

“Shit you’re such a bad girl baby. You like me watching me struggle to stay together don't you? That shit turn you on?”

You let out a hum in approval at his words as you sped up once again, spit dribbling from the corners of your mouth and your gagging getting less prominent the more you took his dick down your throat.

“Shit sweetheart, I’m gonna fucking cum. Want me to cum down your throat? You want this don’t you?”

Bucky grabbed onto your hair and pulled you completely off of him, making you gasp and look up at him as he leaned over and pulled you to meet him halfway, meeting you to kiss you roughly. It was all tongue and teeth, your hands rested on his thighs and your core pulsing in anticipation.

“Tell me. Tell me you want it”

He pushed you back down to your position as he took himself in his hand and pumped himself in front of you, making you whine with how hot he sounded to you right now.

“Fuck I want it. Give it to me Bucky please. Please I want it so bad”

Bucky smirked as he stopped pumping himself and pushed you close to him, you taking the hint and taking him completely down your throat once again, “Then take it baby. Fucking take it. Oh shit yes just like that Y/N”

You let out a moan, swearing that if it weren’t for Bucky’s hand in your hair you would think this was all just a dream. Bucky allowed himself to moan, a string of ‘oh shit’ and ‘fuck’ coming out of his mouth. Soon it turned into just your name, over and over again, causing you to grind down to receive some sort of friction, any type of friction. You felt Bucky pulse and tighten in your mouth before he released, the sound of his moans and gasps making you grind down a bit harder. His hand tightened in your hair as you continued sucking him off until he was spent, and even a little after that.

“Shit Y/N, you gotta...gotta stop baby”

You couldn’t help but continue, just for the simple fact that he wanted you to stop. Bucky moaned and grabbed you, pulling you off of him. You let out a small gasp for air as he pulled you off and you sat back on your heels, just watching him recover from your actions. His chest was rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath, his hand running through his hair before looking up and over at you. You sent him an innocent look, but the smirk that you sent him was the complete opposite. Devilish, sexy and a little bit mischievous.

“Shit Y/N you....I don’t know what all that was about, but I’ve got a feeling you had that planned somehow”

You smiled and shrugged, “Just had to prove a point to myself”

Bucky let out a groan and smiled before he moved over quickly grabbing you and standing up. You yelled as you wrapped your legs around him and laughed as he made his way over to your room, “My turn now you little minx”

[hai-nakyuu]

demure (adj); sugawara x reader

reserved, modest, and shy

tw: 18+, corruption kink, cocky but sweet sugawara, virgin!reader, praise, dumbification, a lil overstim, dacryphilia

koushi sugawara never understood the concept of corruption.

he never really got how it amused his fellow third-years every time someone- say, yachi, or yamaguchi- would furrow their eyebrows in confusion at a not-so child-friendly joke tanaka or nishinoya cracked.

he never really minded how tsukishima howled in laughter as hinata and kageyama unkowingly shared an “indirect kiss” through a water bottle.

he never really cared about if someone was a virgin, because to him, whether you’ve had a dick inside you or not doesn’t change who you are.

that is, until he met the quiet, innocent, and pure little angel called you.

“do i... look okay?”

“”okay?” princess,” he laughs softly. “you’d bring venus and aphrodite to their knees.”

he says it to calm your rushing pulse, but, to his slight amusement, it just makes you even more flustered.

you’ve never done this before: dress up in lingerie for a boy.

but this wasn’t just any other boy.

this was koushi, the boy you trusted with all your heart to cherish you in every way.

“this is the most beautiful two piece i’ve ever seen,” his eyes trail up and down your body, “though.... i suppose it’s because you’re wearing it.”

your eyes avert from his piercing gaze as you blush at his words. “i kind of missed one ribbon at the back, though,” you scratch the back of your neck nervously. “could you...”

“do the honors?” he grins. “thought you’d never ask.”

you smile back up at him, but you can see a tiny shimmer in his eyes that says he wants you, needs you.

he moves to sit behind you on the bed, and runs his hands down your shoulder blades. you can feel his slow, steady breath on your back as his hands trail down the lace, his thumb brushing each thread, until his fingers reach the last untied ribbon of the corset.

his breath hitches. his heart skips a beat.

it feels like he’s wrapping his own present.

your eyes flutter shut as he slowly ties the string into a neat ribbon. it’s as if to confrm that this is real: you’re about to give yourself to him. you know koushi feels this finality too, that he’s the first to see you like this.

what you don’t know is how hard it is for him to hold back.

he’s never felt this urge to protect you for anyone else. sure, he’s been an older brother figure to his kouhais, and he’s always been the one to take initiative during dates and other intimate activities, but there’s something about being the one to teach you about pleasure that sends blood rushing to his cock.

once you feel his hands leave your back, you slowly turn around to meet his gaze. his irises have darkened, his eyes almost completely black with desire.

it ignites something warm in the pit of your stomach.

there’s a long, quiet moment, the air silent besides both your heavy breathing.

koushi doesn’t move just yet. he literally can’t. something about seeing you this vulnerable, something about seeing the love in your eyes, makes him realize just how much trust you’re giving to him, and how much he wants to drive you mad with his touch.

and then you smile softly, let your eyes flutter shut, and slowly snake your arms around his neck, pulling him in- almost hesitantly- for a kiss.

gosh, every time your lips touch his he just falls harder.

his hands find home in your hair as he tilts his head a little to the side, deepening the kiss, teasing your lower lip with his tongue. you gasp and he chuckles against your mouth, pressing his lips- and the rest of his body- harder on you as his patience slowly trickles away like sand in an hourglass.

whatever he’s trying to hold back, he doesn’t think he can for long.

you lay back down on the bed, pulling koushi to hover on top of you. god, this boy was a sight, hair tousled, his lips a little pinkish with your lipstick, and- fuuuuuck, the sexy grin as he dips his head into your neck and experimentally plants kisses on your skin. you giggle a bit and blush because you’re ticklish, and he swears if this moment were any more innocent he could just swoop you up and ruffle your hair as you giggle in his arms.

what you don’t expect is how he suddenly sucks on a certain spot and before you can stop yourself-

“h-hah! god, koushi-”

koushi’s cock strains hard in his pants at the pathetic adorable whine you let out. he masks an aroused groan with a chuckle as he repeats the action.

again.

and again.

and a few times too many, actually, because he can feel your chest rising and falling against his, your much smaller hands gripping onto his shoulders.

delighted by your sensitivity, he keeps this up for another minute before he breaks away, adorning a cocky smirk as his tongue darts out to drag across his lips.

“your-your lips are pink,” you inform him, and he chuckles sweetly as he tastes your strawberry lipstick on his tongue.

“tasty,” he jokes, and you laugh and shake your head. even at such an intimate moment koushi can be so goofy.

“you’re such a dork,” you tease, and he smirks a little as his hands drag down your waist, squeezing a little at your hips.

“i’m a dork, huh, angel?” he drawls against your ear as his fingers toy with the ribbons of the last piece of cloth covering your mound. “let’s see if you still think i’m a dork when you’re soaking my fingers later.”

he pulls your panties off, watching as a pale, white string of wetness connects from the cloth to your already dripping folds.

“you got off on a bit of kissing, darling?” he smirks up at you, and you thrash away from him, embarrassed that he has to see you wet.

“i’m sorry- i didn’t mean to pee- i already went to the bathroom before-”

“don’t sweat, it, angel, it’s normal,” koushi chuckles. it’s funny how he has to remind himself that this is your first time. he takes your hands, and places them on the headboard above you, before fluffing up the pillow your hear is on, sneaking a quick kiss to your lips before sinking back down between your legs.

“it is?” you ask, curiosity halting your flustered movements.

“of course, it means you’re liking it,” he says, hands on your thighs slowly pushing your legs apart, “do you like it, hmm, angel?”

“i-i think i do,” you stutter, nodding. he smiles, but it’s a little mocking as he regards your innocent confusion.

“you have no idea what i’m going to do to you,” he drawls. “but don’t worry, you won’t have to think about aaaaaanything. just lay there and be my good angel while i fuck you so good, hmm?”

“okay,” you whimper, already shaking in anticipation.

“good, that’s a good girl,” he praises you. he slowly licks up and down your folds, dipping his tongue into your cavern and curling it at the tip before slipping out. he laps up all your arousal, humming at the taste of untainted purity as his tongue swirls around your bud before his lips latch around it and suck, eliciting a choked up whine of his name.

fuck,he thinks. how is he going to take this slow if you’re laying there so willingly, making the sweetest, lewdest noises he’s ever heard?

he knows the answer: he won’t.

you don’t even notice his right hand nearing your folds, too immensed in the feeling of being so stimulated until you feel the pads of his fingers prod at your entrance, freezing up in anticipation.

“hey, hey, don’t tense up, princess,” he coos. he kitten licks at your clit to get you to relax, while two of his digits slowly enter your cunt.

he curls his fingers slowly, knowing that if he tries hard enough he’ll find a spot that’ll make you see stars-

“f- ah! koushiiii-”

“there it is,” he grins. “does it feel good now, angel?”

“mhm,” you whine.

“so responsive,” he chuckles. “i’m gonna start moving them, alright?”

it’s kind of a rhetorical question, because once he gets to thrusting his fingers in and out of your folds, curling and prodding at the most sensitive parts inside you.

fuck, none of his fantasies can ever compare to this moment, seeing all your reactions, feeling you clench down on him so desperately, and hearing you mewl and whimper his name. up to just earlier today, he had to control himself not to think of such sinful things around you, because surely you must think him weird, perverted, or even disgusting; you’re the most preciousgirl in his eyes, why would he evertell you that he thinks about your bashful smile every time he fists his cock at night?

but one glance at your face, seeing how your back arches off the bed, desperate to cum even if you probably don’t know what that means, tells him that maybe he could keep you innocent. he could keep this beautiful expression of pleasure to himself, let everyone else think you’re so sweet and uncorrupted when in reality, behind closed doors you’re on your way to becoming his lovely, obedient prey.

his prey that he cherishes and loves.

everything is a blur to him when he quickens the pace of his fingers and tongue, guiding you to your first orgasm (of many) as you tug hard on his hair, giving up on trying to hide your noises when the pleasure takes over the sanest part of your mind and body.

it washes over you like perfectly warm water; a shock trickling up your toes all the way to your spine, your back arching as koushi removes his mouth from you.

“there you go,” he lets you down from your high gently. your head falls back on the pillow, your breaths heavy, but you can still feel when his fingers slip out of you, quick, but you’re so sensitive it makes you clench down on nothing a few times.

“aww, you want more?” koushi teases. “greedy little thing.”

you whine softly, but he clicks his tongue, not taking that for an answer.

“what’s that, angel? i can’t understand you, darling, you gotta use your words,” he smirks down at you.

you open your mouth to reply when he taps a few times on your clit, effectively reducing you to choked-up whimpers.

it almost makes him forget how he’s painfully rock hard in his jeans.

discarding the rest of his clothes, koushi pulls down his underwear, and his cock springs out, and your eyes widen at the sight.

“don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” he kisses you on the lips quickly. “i’ll go slowly.”

he moves to trail his tongue along the helix of your ear, reducing his voice to a dark, breathy drawl.

“for now.”

he lines up his cock with your folds, pressing in gently, taking note of every change in your expression.

but god, it felt so good. koushi could feel you squeezing him so hard. he balls up his fists, keeping them away from you so you don’t get scared.

“d-does it hurt, angel?” he asks breathily, fighting the urge to sink in completely.

“n-nuh,” you grit out. “f-feels weird.”

“it’s alright, don’t worry, i’m almost- f-f-fuck, you’re so fucking perfect,” he groans into your ear.

his breath hitches as he feels you shiver at those words.

oh.

well if that isn’t fucking adorable.

“how ‘bout i give my angel a reward?” he praises you, his other hand slipping between your folds, rubbing circles into your clit.

neither of you are prepared for how it feels; you’re immediately mewling into his shoulder, your nerves on fire as your legs start twitching uncontrollably, your hands helplessly clawing at his back, as your cunt clenches down on him so good it makes koushi’s eyes go wide and feral.

“p-please move, k-koushi” you whine into his ear, and that makes him fucking snap.

he’s in a daze he grabs your legs and lifts them over his shoulders, thrusting all the way in with one swift move, making you let out a high-pitched moan into your hand.

he’d be more gentle if he could, he swears, but something takes control- or rather, loses it inside of him as he grabs both your wrists in one hand, slamming them above you as he thrusts in and out of you, knocking the wind out of you as you squeeze down on him sporadically.

“don’t you fucking dare hide from me,” he groans, watching as your back arches so sexily as he fucks you the way he’s always wanted to.

“i’ve wanted to see you like this for so long, angel, and now i can finally tell you how much i’ve dreamed of fucking that pretty little smile and making you cry. so i wanna see every bit of you, understand?”

he rips off the lace top with one hand, and you moan brazenly at his show of strength. he licks a stripe up the valley of your breasts before latching onto one of your perked nipples and sucking hard, making you squeal and sob fom the pleasure.

“f-f-fuck, please koushi-” your moans get louder and louder and louder, your legs shaking as you feel something crashing over you so hard it makes you see white-

just as koushi’s about to reach his peak as well, a memory flashes through his head from what seems so long ago.

“i... like you too, sugawara-san,” you smiled up at him shyly, holding the second button of his school shirt in your hand which he had offered you so sweetly.

“you do?” he laughs, half in joy, half in slight disbelief.

“well, why wouldn’t i?” you beam up at him. “you’re so sweet to everyone, and i really feel at home with you, you’re very attractive-”you chuckle in a fluster at this- “and you’ve always been so...”

“what?” he tilts his head curiously.

“...so nurturing to me, if that’s the word,” you avert your eyes to your feet bashfully. “you could teach me a lot of things too!”

“yeah,” he holds his arms out, and you gingerly slip into his embrace, melting into his chest. “maybe i could.”

- the end

[todoscript]

SYNOPSIS: Years of memories pouring out, Katsuki and Shouto confront their feelings for you in your very hospital room.

pairing(s): bakugou katsuki x fem!reader, todoroki shouto x fem!reader

genre: angst.

word count: 4.5k+

warnings: really self-indulgent fic, characters are aged-up, implied sexual content, mentions of drinking alcohol, jealousy, reader identifies as female with she/her pronouns, 

author’s note: so i found this pretty old wip i wrote before i made my blog, and after reading it over, i decided hey why not publish it? so i finished it up, did some cleaning, and heres what we got. sorry if it seems kind of shaky, i did my best with what i initially had!

“Bakugou… what are you doing here?”

Shouto enters the room with freshly bought peonies in his hands—one of the many dozen he had brought to this hospital already—his steps coming to a halt at the sight of the Explosion Hero near your hospital bed. Katsuki looks up and narrows his eyes, aggravated by the offender’s question.

“What? You got a fucking problem with me being here?” He keeps his voice low, not wanting to disturb the entire hospital wing, knowingly admitting to how loud he could be. But that doesn’t suppress the bite in his tone.

“Just because you’re her fucking boyfriend doesn’t mean you’re the only one that’s allowed to worry about her,” he nearly spits, and Shouto’s face mirrors Katsuki’s own irked expression.

You have been unconscious for a week now. The cause of this incident was due to your encounter with a dangerous villain who had been wanted by the police for quite some time. Months of evading capture down the drain, the villain had unfortunately ran into you as you patrolled the streets during your nightly shift.

In the end, you won the fight, but at the cost of damage done to your body and overuse of your quirk. As a result, you entered an unconscious state, recovering in this hospital bed to be monitored by medical staff throughout each day. The doctors assured them that you would eventually wake up but will need time to heal on your own through rest.

Ever since the day you’ve been admitted here, Shouto has been visiting your bedside. However, this is the first time Katsuki’s shown up.

Shouto only points a glare to the blond, ignoring him while he sets his bouquet down next to your bed. He notices the already present vase of hydrangeas, surmising that Katsuki must have brought them. He places his bundle of peonies beside them.

The dual-haired man sits on the opposite side of the bed from Katsuki, whose attention is brought back to the girl’s sleeping face, patched with wraps and bandages as a result of your tribulations with the villains.

If I had finished my jobs quicker, I would’ve been able to see you the moment you had to stay in this damn hospital. The thoughts ring in Katsuki’s head, hands clenched into fists out of frustration.

Knowing you had to deal with that whack job of a villain on your own—that your overprotective and valiant nature wouldn’t allow you to let this criminal walk away when you encountered him, and that they weren’t there to prevent you from getting like this—killed both him and Shouto on the inside. They especially hated not knowing when you would wake up or if what the doctors said about you eventually regaining consciousness would even be true.

Shouto takes your hand in his, intertwining your fingers together. Katsuki catches him pressing delicate kisses against your lightly bruised knuckles from the corner of his eye, the young man not caring that he was performing these intimate acts in the presence of another man. Shouto especially did this in order to make a solid point:

She’s mine.

Katsuki knew very well how possessive Shouto could be while he was in their presence. And honestly, he couldn’t blame him. If he got to call you his and keep you all to himself, he’d make sure everyone knew they couldn’t have you—that your smile and attention were all his and his alone. But in this case, they weren’t, and all he could settle for were envious emotions and fantasies of what could’ve been.

•

•

•

Bakugou Katsuki’s feelings for you date back to as early as your high school years at U.A.

At first, he wasn’t entirely sure what made these feelings arise. Having his goal of becoming the Number One hero plastered at the forefront of his head made romance and love trivial concepts down his path. Katsuki had no time to be chasing after girls, going on dates, and devoting a chunk of his time to a partner.

However, at one point, things started to change. He felt ripples affect the still waters that were his life, and he noticed that only you could calm this torrent. You were the one person he sought comfort in, the one person that understood who he was and why he acted the way he did. And the one person who mended him physically and mentally without belittling his character or crushing his pride.

Through all of that, Katsuki had begun to appreciate and admire all the little things about you. Like your beaming smile and the twinkle in the lovely hues of your eyes that you’d give him as you two interacted. It was such a welcomed contrast to the fearful looks the other students would have etched on their faces whenever he so much as called out their name.

He always took note of how you adjusted his food to his preferences during times you were assigned to cook that night at the dorms. And how you’d go and try to tend to him after training, when his muscles ached and his bruises were settling into his skin.

At first, Katsuki thought of it as a sign of weakness—to accept help from someone else when at his most vulnerable state. Yet you were persistent.

He recalls a particular memory after a battle during his internship where he was reduced to resting in bed to recover. Not many of his classmates came up to check on him during that time. Mainly because they figured he wouldn’t bother to open his door for them anyway. Though one night, he heard a knock sounding from his door. He glanced up from his bed, already thinking about ignoring the visitor in favor of staying in bed to rest, but a voice spoke beyond the threshold.

“Katsuki? I hope you’re not asleep yet. It’s not much, but I made you a little something to help you get better.” He didn’t reply upon recognizing your voice, hesitating to see what you’d do if he didn’t respond.

There was a pause of silence until you eventually continued. “Well, I’ll leave this in front of your door for you to have… If not, I’ll come back and retrieve it, okay?” That was the last you said before Katsuki picked up a light clank near the bottom of the entrance. Afterward, feet padded lightly down the hallway till they returned to the elevator to descend to the bottom floors, and the blond was by himself once again.

He weighed the option of leaving whatever you left for him untouched, but knowing you made an effort to arrive at his door to check on him caused him to waver. Before he knew it, his feet treaded to the spot to discover a hot plate of curry at his doorstep, followed by a note and painkillers. The plate perched on one of his hands, he opened the letter with the other.

Get better soon! We’ll be waiting for you!

Closing the note, he tossed it on his desk before plopping down on the edge of his bed with the plate of curry in his lap. It steamed and dispersed heat on his sore thighs, piping hot and ready to eat.

He gripped his spoon between his fingers, an irregular grin surfacing his lips. He scooped up the spicy bits of curry, gobbling the dish down to its very last grain of rice until the plate was clean. And in that time, every bite he brought to his mouth made him think of you.

“Dumbass, there’s no way I’m falling behind.” Feeling thoroughly full, he transferred the finished plate to his desk, where he had left the note. Before he had even realized it, he reached out for the paper, glancing over the words one last time. He fished a pen from his drawer and scribed a reply of his own for when you would return for the dirty plate.

Thanks, dumbass. It was good.

•

•

•

The Icy-Hot Hero, Todoroki Shouto, loved you too much to let you go.

You were the girl that shaped him to become the person he is today—who taught him to embrace himself for who he was and not let his past define him and what he stood for. You were the person that brought him out from the dark hole he trapped himself in and cast him into warm light. You’ve stuck together through thick and thin throughout your journey to becoming Pro Heroes, protecting one another and watching each other’s backs. It wasn’t long before he noticed his feelings for you had developed into more complicated emotions. Emotions that made butterflies flutter in his stomach and his face unusually hot whenever he even glanced in your direction. As he began to actively seek you out for comfort and support, he thought of you differently in comparison to all of his other classmates.

Initially, these foreign feelings troubled him. Yet, he could never quite piece together why you could garner such flustered reactions.

Then after consoling these newfound sensations with his close friends and family, he realized that you meant so much more to him than just a classmate, an ally, a colleague. Todoroki Shouto was—is—in love with you.

And the feeling was mutual.

Whether it was the intense looks you two sent as your gazes naturally drifted to each other or how your hands would always brush across soft and calloused knuckles in a silent plea to lace your fingers together, it wasn’t long before he discovered that his feelings for you were reciprocated.

Interestingly, you and Shouto never had to confess anything to each other. Your feelings came almost naturally for you both like you were telepathically linked and on the same wavelength. You came to one another like magnets attracted to their opposite poles, and in just a blink, your lips had met one day, and you took each other’s first kiss.

From then on was the start of many more “firsts.”

Shouto remembers the first time he let you hang out in his dorm room, talking about simple things like school, studying, and internships.

He remembers your first date to a cafe his older sister recommended—the one with flavorful milk teas he knew you’d take a liking to, with bountiful flowers decorating the interior of the tea house.

He remembers inviting you into his home to meet his older siblings, have dinner with them, and letting his family get to know you as his significant other.

He remembers taking you to see his mother at the psychiatric ward his wretched father had admitted her to, finally letting the two most significant women in his life meet and watching as his mother took a relieved liking to the girl he loves.

He remembers the tension that hovered in the air over an argument you two had one day, which was eventually mended through communication and reaffirmations of love.

He remembers embracing you in his bed, devoid of nothing but yourselves in your purest forms, eliciting sweet sounds from your lips that intoxicated him with lust and drove him to desire more and more until he monopolized every crevice of your body—every ounce of your soul—and intended to burn your beautiful, sinful image into his memory.

He remembers so much of the little things and the significant things about your love that he could never, ever hand you over to anyone else. Less of all to Bakugou Katsuki.

•

•

•

Katsuki was one of the first people to notice that they were in a relationship.

At first, it wasn’t obvious. The two made a point to keep their romantic bond a secret among their classmates and teachers not to complicate things and be the subject of teasing. They also considered the fact they needed to focus on their studies and hero training. Kisses and other affectionate touches were done behind closed doors or whenever they knew no eyes could discover them. These sneaky tactics proved to be effective and not many questioned them about relationships, aside from the occasional girls/boys talk they’d do. They’d ask each other things like “who would you date” and “don’t you think ‘so-and-so’ is cute” and many other curious asks. Their answers to these inquiries were inconspicuous enough that most of their friends didn’t suspect much of anything. Except for Katsuki.

Katsuki was never one to pick apart details, not as much as his childhood rival, Deku, anyway. But the more he looked at them, the more he was aware of the particular hints and their subtleties of tenderness. Such as the way the red-and-white-haired boy would perk up at the sound of your name or the chime of your voice from across the dormitory’s common area. Or the way you two would hover around each other more often than you would your classmates as if maximizing the most of your time together in public. Or how you’d go on small study dates together and hold each other’s hand underneath the table in the library, thinking no one would notice.

Perhaps, the most significant indication, however, was the expressions on each of their faces.

Maybe Katsuki had started becoming very hyper-aware, unraveling your mannerisms and making out even the smallest of singularities, but he felt your faces alone were an obvious giveaway.

The looks you gave each other were ones harboring nothing but pure love and adoration. He could discern the glow you exuded simply basking one another’s presence. Those looks weren’t ones you would give to a close friend; they were something more. He would know. That look Shouto gives is the same one Katsuki has for you, after all.

Except, his is never reciprocated.

That pretty smile, the flustered expression across your cheeks, the sparkling hues of your eyes—all those little details were reserved for Shouto, not Katsuki.

It hurt to know that the gaze you give Katsuki wouldn’t ever be the same one you give to Shouto. Katsuki knows this, and yet he still can’t seem to get past you.

The moment he was aware of his feelings—reluctantly fathoming the fact that you were with Shouto—Katsuki did everything in his power to stop these feelings.

No, not just stop. He had to get rid of them. Cut any connection with them. Dealing with an aching heart was too much work and pain for a boy with heavy aspirations to bear. So he ignored you—erased you. He didn’t so much as spare you even a glance as if you were just another extra. Whenever you appeared, he made a move to leave, spouting excuses such as “I’m going to sleep,” or “I don’t have time to be around you losers,” the usual Bakugou Katsuki response to any form of unnecessary socializing. He had to act like you didn’t exist, put his mind on something else—anything else.

But darn that girl and her need to check on and care for other people.

Noticing something was wrong with the boy, you sought Katsuki out, cornering him. You asked him what was wrong, to which Katsuki gritted his teeth, unable to look at you in the eyes, knowing that those feelings would bubble up inside him again as they conjured troublesome butterflies in the pits of his stomach. Yet it was no use.

He couldn’t deny that he missed those times together—when you would patch up his wounds and bruises after training or when you’d let him try out your spicy ailments before half-and-half because you always knew he had a preference for spicy foods. He still had it bad for you.

And he continued to harbor those feelings even after you all graduated after your third year at U.A.

The heroes-in-training were ready to take on the real world as Pro Heroes and sidekicks. By then, you and Shouto had admitted to the class about your relationship. Some were surprised, while others, specifically the girls, expressed their rounds of “I knew it!” likely noticing the chemistry between the two long before. Katsuki had decided to play dumb and acted like this announcement meant completely nothing to him. Just useless news. That was what he told himself, anyway.

After that, Katsuki didn’t see much of the couple around. All of them were busy with work and trying to get their names out in the public to compete on the Billboard Hero Chart.

Which was good news for him. With his goal of becoming the Number One Hero still lodged into his head, the blond threw himself into his heroic duties. Often, he didn’t stop, persisting on job after job until the agency he was under forced him to take breaks whenever they deemed necessary for his health. In those times, Katsuki found himself slowly forgetting about you. But occasionally, he’d see glimpses of you again.

As expected of one of the graduates under Class A of U.A., you were definitely making a name for yourself and propelling in popularity. Whether he wanted to or not, Katsuki would see articles and advertisements glowing with your resplendent features plastered on headlines, covered by your hero name.

God, did you look as beautiful as always. Katsuki would think before jolting his mind back to reality, remembering that you weren’t his to ogle.

The last part was hard to bear, especially when his former class announced a reunion party at a restaurant Momo had reserved for them when everyone had hit the legal drinking age. Katsuki was definitely not keen on going. However, his friend Kirishima had convinced him to come along through relentless persistence.

Ultimately, he attended the reunion. He and Eijirou arrived together and appeared relatively earlier. Well, earlier than at least half the class anyway. Eventually, more of their former classmates trickled into the food establishment and greeted one another with boisterous cheers all around. Which, unfortunately for him, included the people Katsuki dreaded to see the most—you and Shouto.

Your hand was already laced with half-and-half’s when you two entered, resulting in some of their classmates teasing you about your public display of affection. Both didn’t mind though. Over the years, you’ve grown quite comfortable with hand-holding and even hugging in the open.

You know who did mind? A certain explosion hero, of course.

Save that shit for when I don’t have to fucking see it. He almost hissed out loud but bit his tongue at the last second.

To his luck, you had ended up sitting next to him, with Shouto at your left. Though you were sandwiched between two guys from your former class who were infatuated with you, Katsuki felt like he was more suffocated than you were.

The reunion that night went by relatively smoothly. You would chime in some small talk with Katsuki during certain intervals of time while everyone was holding their own conversations in the background. He did his best to keep his cool and not let himself act like a high schooler in love. To some degree, he thought his facade had worked as he played off his usual “Bakugou responses,” albeit with a lot less yelling and venom in comparison to how he spoke to everyone back in high school. Dare he say, he might have even softened up a bit. What he didn’t notice was Shouto glancing at him from the corner of his eye while in the middle of a conversation with Midoriya.

The night continued with rounds of alcohol poured across the table of twenty-one heroes. They made their cheers before helping themselves to their spirits. Conveniently, Shouto and Katsuki were very adept at holding their drinks. You? You weren’t as great. By the end of the night, you passed out from how drunk you were and had ended up laying your head on the table, head floaty and light.

By then, everyone else had left aside from maybe five or so people. Momo graciously helped the couple secure a cab home safely for the night, and Shouto had gotten up to help confirm some information. Katsuki was left to his own devices with you next to him.

His eyes couldn’t help but wander toward your form. You were so vulnerable in front of him, with your soft lips, splayed hair, and long eyelashes turned in his direction for him to see. Though a bit of that smell of alcohol lingered, he could still make out the flowery aroma you always gave off. You smelled of lavenders, daisies, roses—every fucking flower under the sun—with a hint of honey. Your scent intoxicated him. He started to wonder if this is how you smelled like at home, or if your scent became even more potent whenever you appeared fresh out of the shower and—

Katsuki hadn’t realized his hand had subconsciously gone up to brush a stray hair from your face until he managed to pull himself away from his thoughts. Thankfully, he retracted his hand back before committing himself to the act. But the gesture did not go unnoticed by the heterochromatic-eyed man who had appeared again to gather you in his arms.

Shouto had taken his coat and wrapped it around you before hooking his arms beneath you to cradle your body.

“Mm, Shouto…” you hummed against him, arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as you nuzzled further into him while on the verge of sleep. Katsuki’s heart throbbed hearing those half-dazed murmurs that left your lips, which hovered so close to that bastard’s neck. He wanted the privilege of holding you close and taking care of you at your most vulnerable.

“Come on, love, we’re going home,” he said fondly at your resting state. Katsuki didn’t catch the cold glare Shouto sent his way as he looked elsewhere to avoid the couple’s intimacy right in front of him. All he could hear after that was the engine of their cab rumbling in the distance, trailing back to their humble abode.

•

•

•

“...I know.” Shouto finally breaks the silence within the hospital room, eyes still trained on his beloved as he rubs his thumb across your knuckles to the base of your hand.

Katsuki looks up at his words incredulously. “The fuck is that suppose to mean.” He narrows his brows into a pressed glare.

“I know that you’re in love with her.”

Katsuki deadpanned, his eyes wavering at the man’s declaration. Should he deny it? Make it seem as if the icy-hot head was delusional? No. He knows that the signs must have been obvious coming from the one man in his way of vying for your attention, the man that would go to so many lengths for you that he’d travel to the moon and back in a heartbeat if it were in your name. Katsuki can’t pry himself out of this one.

He takes a glance at you. Was this really the place to be confronting him about this? In the presence of your unconscious state resting in this hospital bed between them?

“And what about it?” Katsuki counters his claims.

“I don’t plan on letting her go no matter what.” As if to make a point on his words, Shouto’s hold on your limp hand is firm, unmoving. He slowly shifts his gaze to the ash blond, crossing his look of anger. “So stop playing this game.”

When the words travel across the hollow hospital room and to Katsuki’s ears, his fists tighten in response. “Game? Game?!” He raises his voice, body shaking. “You think my feelings are some sort of joke to you?! That I’m only looking at her like this for fun?!” His eyes find Shouto’s blue and gray, red with ire. The young man in front of him is unfazed in the wake of his indignation.

“Let me tell you something fucking straight…” Katsuki starts, stepping forward, finger pointing fiercely in Shouto’s direction. “I won’t deny anything I feel for her at this point. I’m in love with her, alright?” he admits without hesitance and notices the subtle quirk of Icy-Hot’s brow. “And I’ll tell you that if she were mine, she wouldn’t have gotten in this position in the first place.”

Those words are what finally make Shouto’s unnatural composure crumble. He releases your hand to stand from his place and face the blond at eye level. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Crossing his arms, Katsuki scoffs at the question.

“You’d think I’d even let that villain get near her if this was gonna happen?” He gestures in the direction of your patched-up form, asleep and littered with bruises. “If she were looking at me, I would’ve already been on the scene to back her up. And just what were you doing, huh? Helping old ladies cross the street?” Katsuki is unfiltered as he hurls his insults, but three years of dealing with him as a classmate has made Shouto immune to his temperament.

“Let me get this through your head then. She was never looking at you. She was looking at me.”

Ouch. The blond would be lying if those words didn’t stir a pot of hurt inside him.

“And as both her partner and a fellow Pro Hero, I more than trusted her enough to finish the job on her own. Even if this isn’t a game to you, you’re already losing a battle you can’t hope to win.”

“Not sure why you’re the one calling the shots for her,” Katsuki quips. How ironic the girl they’re both fighting over lays comatose in this very bed between them.

The atmosphere is layered in dreadful silence afterward. The monitor next to you beeps in eery succession. It is the only thing heard in the hospital room that is wrapped in tension so taut it is bound to snap at any moment.

The knot of strife is undone by the door sliding open to reveal a nurse entering the uneasy state of the room.

“Mister Bakugou and Mister Todoroki, I’m sorry, but visiting hours at the hospital are closed for the evening,” she informs them as the two had yet to realize the sky veiled darkening orange with the setting of the sun. Eyeing the clipboard hugged to her chest, they knew it was about time for the hospital to assess your condition again.

The two make their leave, taking the time to thank the nurse before doing so, but the suffocating tension follows them even outside the hospital. They don’t speak a word afterwards, only sharing bristled looks and heavy steps until they’re forced to head off in their respective paths, not sparing any more kindness.

To Shouto, Katsuki would never understand the lengths he’d go for you because Katsuki could also never experience what the two of you went through together in the same way. All those years together, forging unforgettable memories of love and tenderness, could never be replicated.

But the blond isn’t bothered by those facts. It doesn’t unnerve him that he was unable to encounter all those firsts with you because in his mind, he’ll just create new memories—ones that you’ve never experienced and ones that will make him the last and only person you’ll ever want by your side. He’ll blow fucking Icy-Hot out of the atmosphere.

ending note: heyyy congrats if you’ve made it to the end. i think at the time i was writing this, i had an idea on how to progress the fic, but i decided to leave it on this. not particularly sure if i’m going to continue this, i may just leave it up to your interpretation. does katsuki steal the readers heart? does shouto protect his love from being severed in front of him? will the reader even wake up? find out on the next episode of dragon ball z

[thebadgerclan]

The Golden Boy’s First

Pairing: Cedric Diggory x reader

Requested by Anonymous

Summary: Cedric’s first time...

Smut!

“Y/N, Y/N, wait.”  Cedric’s hands moved from your back to your shoulders, gently pushing you away from him.  “What’s the matter?  Ced, did I do something wrong?”  “No!” he hurried to reassure you.  “No, not at all, sweetheart.  It’s just that… well, I’m a virgin.  I’ve never had sex before.”  You couldn’t help but be shocked.  Cedric Diggory was the most handsome boy in your year, hell, in the whole damn school, and he was a virgin.  Even before you’d gotten together, you’d always thought that someone had been with Cedric before; he was the Golden Boy, Hufflepuff’s quidditch star, a Triwizard champion!  But you would be his first, the thought making pride flow through you.

“Really?”  He nodded, a blush dusting his cheeks.  “Hey, look at me.  There’s nothing to be ashamed about, Ced.  And we don’t have to do anything tonight, if you don’t want to.”  “I do,” he said, cupping your cheek and kissing you deeply.  “Merlin, I do.  I just don’t want to fuck this up for you.”  You smiled, kissing him back.  “You won’t, Ced, I promise.”  He nodded, though he looked unconvinced.  “How about you let me make you feel good, love?”  “Alright.”

You rose from Cedric’s lap, pulling him by the hand to sit on the edge of the bed, unfastening his trousers and pushing them, along with his boxers, down, freeing his hard cock.  He was about 7 inches long, thick and veiny, and your mouth watered. You sank to your knees before him, licking your palm and taking his cock in hand.  Cedric hissed at the contact, turning to a moan as you stroked him gently.  And when you leaned forward, parting your lips and sealing them around his aching length, he nearly wept.

“Fuck, Y/N, holy shit, that feels so good,” he said as you began sucking him off, bobbing your head gently, all while looking up through your lashes at him.  His head was tipped back in pleasure, hands fisting the sheets at his sides.  “Oh Merlin, Y/N, fuck.”  You hummed, making Cedric moan, and he tangled one hand through your hair.  This was an image he’d gotten himself off to more times than he could count, and seeing and feeling it play out had him second away from coming.

So he pushed you off his cock, breathing heavily.  “Did I do something wrong?” you asked, and Cedric shook his head.  “No love, you were perfect.  But I want to be inside you before I come, and you were very close to making me come.”  Nodding, you got up, settling on the bed once more, kissing your boyfriend.  “How do you want me, Ced?”  His mind spun with ways he could fuck you, all the ways he’d dreamt of taking you.  But his inexperience overrode those fantasies, and he moved to sit against the headboard.  “Will you ride me?”

You rose to your knees, pulling your shirt over your head, unhooking your bra, pushing your skirt down and removing your paintes.  “Of course I will, baby.”  Cedric inhaled sharply, seeing you naked for the first time.  Of course, he’d imagined this before, but seeing you before him, it was more than he ever could have dreamed.  “You’re so beautiful, Y/N,” he said, placing his hands on your waist as you straddled him.  “So beautiful.”

“Thank you, Ced,” you replied, taking his cock in hand and lining him up with your entrance.  “Ready?”  “Please,” Cedric whispered, and you slowly sunk down.  He moaned deep and low in his throat as he entered you, feeling your cunt stretch around him.  You moaned as well, his cock filling you, and once you were fully seated atop him, you bent forward to kiss him.

“How does it feel?” you asked, and Cedric sighed, overwhelmed by the pleasure he felt, and you hadn’t even moved yet.  “So good, Y/N.  Merlin, you’re so tight around me.”  You kissed him again, slowly rocking and bouncing your hips, making both of you moan.  You kept your forehead against his as you rode him, the angle allowing for deep penetration, the head of his cock rubbing your g-spot.

“Ced, you fill me up so good,” you praised, making Cedric moan louder.  “So thick and hard, fuck baby.  Do you know how long I’ve thought about this?  About your cock in my pussy?”  “Y/N,” he whined.  “Y/N, fuck, I love you.  I love you so much, you feel so good.”  “I love you too, Cedric.  Do you want me to go faster?”  “Please!” he cried at once, and you obliged, riding him faster, hands on his shoulders as you did.

He was close again, and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer.  Cedric so badly wanted to make you come before indulging his own pleasure, but he wasn’t sure if he could.  He brought a hand to your clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves tentatively.  When you jolted and moaned, he moved his fingers a bit faster, encouraged by your reaction.  “Shit, Ced, that feels so good.”  “It does?”  “Yeah baby, a little faster.”

Cedric rubbed your clit faster, as you’d requested, making you clench around him, which in turn made his cock spasm.  He felt his orgasm drawing nearer, and knew for certain that he wouldn’t hold off before your orgasm.  Not tonight at least.  “Y/N, I’m sorry, I can’t hold back,,” he warned, voice desperate and trembling slightly.  “Fuck, you feel to good, I can’t hold on!”  “Shh, it’s alright, Ced,” you cooed, kissing him sweetly.  “Come when you need to, come for me.”

Your words were his undoing.  Cedric whimpered, clinging to you as he came, cock twitching wildly within you.  You continued to bounce on his cock, rubbing your clit furiously, and a moment later, you came, moaning Cedric’s name as you did.  He was panting and whimpering, shaking slightly, and as you pulled off of him, he sighed, flaccid cock resting against his stomach.  You cast the cleaning and contraceptive charms, lying down and letting Cedric snuggle into your arms.

“Feeling alright?” you asked, and he nodded, nuzzling his face into your shoulder.  “So good, Y/N, you’re incredible.  I love you so much.”  “I love you too, Ced.  You did so well for me.”  The praise sent a bolt of pride through his chest, but a feeling of anxiety followed.  “I’m sorry I didn’t last long,” he said.  “I wanted to make you come before I did.”  “None of that, sweetheart,” you said, stroking his back.  “There’s nothing to apologize for.  You felt good, I felt good, that’s all that matters.  Besides, I plan to give you lots of practice with stamina.”  Cedric blushed, and you smiled, kissing his forehead.

[zodiakuroo]

Pretty Things Don’t Need To Think

Kuroo decides he's had enough of his smart, independent girlfriend. He wants her to be his good little housewife instead.

Pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou x Fem!Reader

Contains: 18+ oh boy... dubcon, big dick kuroo, dumbifciation, misogyny, manhandling, oral sex (deepthroating), pee in vee sex, degradation, manipulation, pwp, breath play, mouth spitting, creampie, thigh riding, slapping, spit, porn watching, crybaby reader but kuroo is a meanie so :3

Word count: 4.6k

Notes: my first time writing smut n it’s mindlessly self-indulgent i just had this weirdly specific fantasy that i need to get out byeee

Kuroo loved the fact that you were smart. He loved the fact that you could debate and argue with him for hours on the most obscure topics. He love that you were always interested in his nerdy rambles and he found it adorable that you would sometimes go off on your own nerdy rambles. When he met you, he was so used to fucking brainless bimbos that he was surprised to find a girl that he both wanted to sleep with and have a conversation with. Your intellect was one of the many reasons he wanted to pursue a relationship with you beyond sex. One of the many reasons why he planned on marrying you.

Kuroo also loathed the fact that you were smart. Not loathed exactly. He just hated your stupid fucking degree. He hated the fact that it demanded so much of your time and energy that you sometimes had to put your studies before him. You wanted to be doctor, always wanted to apparently. You wanted it so bad he felt a little ashamed for how much it annoyed him.

But he didn’t understand it. You were going to be the wife of Kuroo Tetsurou, President of the Japan Volleyball Association. Is that not enough of an achievement?

 You didn’t seem to think so.

Now Kuroo’s not a misogynist by any means. If he were, he wouldn’t even let you get this stupid degree. He doesn’t want you to be some mindless Stepford Wife who only cooks and cleans and says “Yes, dear” “No, dear.” Of course he believes in equal rights and all that bullshit but he just doesn’t see any reason for you to work. Financially, there’s no need. More importantly, as his wife you would be too busy taking care of him, his home and his children for you to even thinking about having a job. He would let you get this degree purely for you to soothe your own ego, so you could feel like you’ve accomplished something.

And this is the fucking thanks he gets.

Coming home every day to see you hunched over the dining room table, 4 different textbooks open, papers scattered everywhere. He works hard every day to make a comfortable life for the two of you but asking to come home to a clean apartment and dinner on the stove is too much to ask apparently.

You don’t even register that he’s in the room until he places two large warm hands on your shoulders, causing you to jump, quickly soothed with a kiss to the top of your head.

“Hi baby” he mutters against your scalp, gently massaging your shoulders.

“Hmm. Hi Tetsurou.” you turn your head to look at him, eyes bloodshot and bleary from staring at your computer all day.  “How was your day?”

“Same old.” He places a chaste kiss on your lips. “How’s it going here? Are we winning?” He glances at your notes, Intercranial mass lesions. Subarachnoid Haemorrhage. Spontaneous Intracerebral Haemorrhage. He wonders why you do this to yourself. Pretty things like you shouldn’t have to think.

You groan. “Not at all. This neuro final is gonna kick my ass.”

He chuckles, hands gently massaging your shoulders. “You say that every time and every time you ace it baby.”  Instead of asking you where his dinner is, he asks “Have you eaten today? What do you want for dinner?”

“ I’m not hungry Tetsu. You can order whatever you like.” He clenches his jaw in irritation. You can’t even be bothered to give him your full attention for 10 minutes? The man who works so hard so that you can afford to sit at home and study the whole day?

No.

He’ll get your attention one way or another.

“Angel,” he drops his voice an octave or two, leaning down so his mouth is pressed right against the shell of your ear. “How about you take a break yeah? Wanna help you relax.” He starts to kiss your neck. He hears your breath hitch. He’s got you. “You worked so hard today plus I reaaaaally miss you.”

With that he begins to leave wet kisses on your neck, feeling you melt into him. His hands move away from your shoulders, gently groping at your chest.

You suddenly go rigid. “Tetsu, not right now.” He doesn’t want you to know how pissed he is but he can’t help it, he groans in frustration. “I’m sorry,” you mutter weakly “I really need to get through these last 3 chapters.”

“Yeah right. Got it.” He storms off with a huff. He’s furious. Your little studious shtick has been nothing more than an irritation for him. But this is too far. He hasn’t come in a month, since you started prep for finals. You’ve been too busy to take care of him. You suggested porn and he laughed in your face. Why would he jerk off when you have a perfectly good pussy? Don’t be ridiculous.

“Tetsurou don’t be mad please.”

“Not mad baby. Keep studying. That’s important to you right?” He’s not convincing anyone but you don’t have the time or energy to engage.

You let out a heavy sigh before turning back to your laptop, falling back into studying like the whole interaction never happened. It made him even angrier. How you couldn’t care less about him right now.

“Just gonna watch some TV. That okay with you, love?” He says sounding sickly sweet, almost sarcastic. If you notice, you don’t make any mention of it.

“Mmhm. Just keep it down please.” You don’t even bother to fucking look at him. 

You don’t wanna pay attention to him? You want him to just jerk off? Fine then, have it your way. Kuroo throws himself down on the couch as he rips off his tie with a little more force than necessary.

This is petty.

He makes quick work of the buttons of his dress shirt.

This is childish.

He quickly unbuckles his belt and pulls his slacks down just far enough to take his soft dick out of his boxers.

 This is your fault.

 You pushed him to do this.

He takes his phone and uses his internet browser to take him to the first porn site he can think of. He doesn’t really care about the kind of video so “Busty blonde slut gets destroyed” seems like a good a choice as any. He clicks on the video and sets up his phone to mirror on the TV screen. With the volume about as loud as it can go, he presses play.

The loud exaggerated moans and gagging startle you. Your head shoots up and you see your boyfriend, lidded gaze fixed on the flat screen TV in front of him. He’s panting, letting out little moans. You crane your neck to see what he’s watching and you see on the TV a bleach blonde girl with massive tits being an absolute trooper as she gets facefucked relentlessly.

“Kuroo, what the fuck?” God he hates when you call him by his last name mostly because you only do that when you’re really annoyed at him.

“Hm? What is it baby?” Now it’s his turn to not even glance in your direction. He’s too focused on the way the girl on screen’s throat is bulging as the man thrusts into her mouth. Maybe he should watch porn more often.

“What are you doing?” He can hear the irritation building in your voice. He hears the chair scrape along the hardwood floor as you stand up to get a better look at him. He knows you can see exactly what he’s doing now.

He smirks, turning to look at you for just a split second before his attention is back to being on screen. “Watching ah fuck watching TV”. He starts to stroke himself faster now, knowing you’re watching him. He’s a little embarrassed by how turned on he is. Cock already rock hard, his tip bright red and shiny from leaking so much pre-cum.

“Do you have to do… that… here? I can’t concentrate.” You clench your fists and your sides.

Oh you’re pissed. But this isn’t exactly the reaction he wants from. He’ll make it work though.

“Not my problem babe. Shit.” He takes his free hand down to play with his swollen balls and god, if he weren’t so determined to dump this load inside you he might have come right then and there.

“Kuroo!” You shout. He’s still not looking at you. How could he when the girl on the screen is getting absolutely railed. He only hears the sound of your barefeet on the hardwood floor as you storm over to the couch. He’s not sure what your plan was when you decided to come over here, but it doesn’t even matter anymore because the second you’re close enough he yanks you by your wrist and forces you into his lap.

“Tetsu!” You thrash and struggle in his hold but it’s no use. He’s bigger and stronger than you.

He wraps his arm around your neck, pulling you into a chokehold. “Oh I’m Tetsu now?” he laughs bitterly

“Let me go! Please!” You still haven’t given up getting out of this, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

“Shut up. I want you to watch this.” He’s forcing you to look at the screen now. “Look at that yeah? Look at how she’s taking that big cock.”

A hard palm strikes you across your cheek. “Stop squirming and watch.”

The blonde woman is bent over a coffee table while the man behind her rams his dick into her without abandon. Kuroo can’t decide if he finds her whining hot or annoying.

“Looks like it feels good huh babe?” His head is buried in the crook of your neck. “Wanna make you feel good like that.” He places a quick kiss to your temple before pulling your t-shirt over your head, your bare chest now exposed to the cool air.

“Tetsu please.”

“Please what baby?”

Please let me go.

But the way he’s hands are gripping at your breasts, pulling and twisting your nipples, you can’t form any words. Only whimpers.

“Please make you feel good? That what you want baby?” He whispers as he slots his thigh between your legs.

“Yeah yeah please Tetsu.”

Kuroo has turned his focus onto your neck. Harsh sucks, leaving bruises and bite marks in his wake. He wants to laugh at how pathetic you are. Just a few minutes ago, you were adamant on ignoring his presence and now you’re writhing in his lap begging you to touch him.

“Really? I thought you needed to study.”

“No no no Tetsu, only need you.” Just a quickie. You’re both pent up. 10… 15 minutes tops. Then you’ll go back to studying. That’s what you tell yourself.

“That’s right baby.” He grips your hips and grinds you down on to his thigh. “I know exactly what you need.” You take your cue from him and begin riding his thigh, neurology notes long forgotten as he goes back to assaulting your neck. The combination of the sensation of your clothed clit rubbing against his thigh and visual stimulation of the explicit content on your TV makes you dizzy with pleasure.

Your movements become frantic. You’re practically humping his leg at this point. He knows you’re close which is why he wraps one arm around your torso, pulling you back into his chest.

“Baby please.” You whine. Oh, you’re really crying now.

“Oh angel, you were gonna come just from that? Just from humping my thigh and watching some other bitch get eaten out? My angel must be so pent up huh?”

You can’t do anything except whimper and nod.

“Mmhm yeah my baby has been working too hard. Thinking too much. You’re too cute for that you know baby.”

You keep nodding, no idea what you’re actually agreeing to, too busy keening at the praise. You keep trying to move your hips but he just tightens his hold.

“It’s okay though baby I know how to take care of you. Your man knows how to turn off that little brain of yours.”

His hand slides into you shorts, fingers pressing on to your clit over the top of your soaked panties. The moan you let out might rival the porn star on screen, who now by the way, is riding the face of her co-star while she sucks his cock.

He slips his other hand into your panties and starts rubbing quick “Yeah that’s it. Feel good babe?” You melt into his chest. “Yes Tetsu! So good!”

Kuroo pushes his long middle finger into your dripping hole. So tight and warm, he has to bite back a moan of his own. A few slow pumps, before he lets his index finger enter you as well. He’s done going slow now, he starts fucking you with his fingers, thumb brushing over your clit every now and then.

You were so close before, it takes almost no effort on Kuroo’s part to get you there again. You throw your head back on to his shoulder, muscles tensing in anticipation of your impending release. “Tets- gonna cum, gonna cu-“ The second you feel the waves of your orgasm crash on to you, Kuroo has his hands off you entirely, reaching for the remote and turning off the explicit movie.

Ruined. He ruined your orgasm.

You open your eyes and you see Kuroo looking every bit the smug bastard and your own teary eyed reflection in the black screen. “Tetsurou… Why? Why would you-“ You can’t even get the sentence out before he delivers a harsh smack to your clit.

“You think you deserve to come?” A large hand wraps tight around your throat as he lets out a humourless laugh. “You’re stupider than I thought.”

“No Tetsu ‘m not stupid” You manage to rasp out but that just makes him squeeze even tighter.

“What was that? I thought I heard a stupid bitch say something.”

You claw at his had trying to get air into your lungs but Kuroo doesn’t budge.

“Please! Sorry! Please!” is all you can manage to get out. Just as you start to see spots, Kuroo lets go.

Airways burning, you sputter out a “thank you” but your boyfriend doesn’t seem to care. “You’re sorry? Show me how fucking sorry you are.” He’s shoves you on to the floor unceremoniously.

While Kuroo removes his slacks and boxers, you try to compose yourself. You know what’s coming but first you need to stop coughing and stop crying. After a minute of deep breathing, you open your eyes and find yourself face to face with Kuroo’s monster cock.

And you’re not exaggerating. The thing is terrifying. Long and girthy, the biggest you’ve ever seen.  He’s unbelievably hard with bulging veins, the tip almost purple with arousal. You’re mesmerised by it. 

Perhaps the only thing scarier than his dick right now is the man attached to it. He’s staring down at you with so much condescension, small smirk playing on his lips. He wraps his hand around his thick base. “You good princess? Get to it.” He tuts.

You place one of your hands on his throbbing member as you tentatively stick out your tongue to lick at his tip where pre-cum is dribbling out. You slowly start to stroke him up and down as you swirl your tongue around the head. Kuroo is being kind, letting you go slow. If you think he’s doing this for your benefit, you’re mistaken. He wants to take his time with this. More importantly, he’s got about a month’s worth of cum stored up in his balls and he wants to make sure that every single drop goes inside your little cunt.

You take what you can fit (just less than half) into your mouth, lips stretched wide around his dick, the head is poking at the back of your throat while your hands work the rest of his shaft. You look up at him with wide, apologetic eyes. He can tell by the way you’re looking at him you want him to know how sorry you are.

It’s cute.

He grabs you by your hair and pulls you off of him. ”Aw baby, that’s it? I thought you were sorry.” 

A mixture of saliva and pre-cum dribbles down your chin. “Tetsu I am sorry. I’m so sorry!” You whimper.

“Yeah?” Kuroo whispers. His grip on your hair tightens as he tilts your head up to look at him. You stare up at your boyfriend, as he bends down to kiss you. Again, it’s surprisingly gentle but is quickly contrasted with the way he uses the other hand to grab your face, squeezing harshly to make you pucker your lips and keep your mouth open.

He smiles down at you, almost lovingly before he puckers his lips as well, letting a fat glob of spit drop from his mouth into yours.

It’s gross. It’s degrading. It’s cruel.

And that’s why you swallow it down almost immediately, without being asked. 

“Good girl” He whispers and gives you a kiss on the nose as a reward. The simple praise shoots straight to your pussy and now you’re greedy for more.

Kuroo leans back and assumes his previous position but this time flexing his elbows and putting his hands behind his head. He’s still wearing his dress shirt, unbuttoned so you can admire his delicious torso. Toned and tanned with the trail of dark hair running all the way to his groin. He looks completely relaxed with his eyes closed and for a moment you find yourself enamored by how stunning he is. How stunning your man is. You want to please him now more than ever. You want him to call you his good girl again. You steady yourself on your knees and prepare for the task at hand

You start off with a few shallow bobs on his cock. Then you take a deep breath through your nose before taking as much of him in your throat as you can. “Holy shit.”  He breathes out. His hips thrust up reflexively while you try to suppress your own reflex, trying to keep him has deep as possible for as long as possible. You’ve had lots of practice deepthroating your boyfriend’s dick but somehow it hasn’t gotten any easier.

You pull off of him but not completely, just enough to open up your airway to let much needed air into your burning lungs. You twist your hands around the exposed part of him. You look up at him and he’s giving you that fond smile again and it makes your heart swell in your chest. It’s all the motivation you need to take him back into your throat. Again you take him as far as you can but there’s still a good inch or so that you can’t take no matter how hard you try.

“Aw baby you need some help?” Kuroo coos from above you. You look up at him with big watery eyes and nod as best you can with his dick lodged in your oesophagus. He lets out a hum. “Anything for my baby.” He places one of his large hands on the back of your head and pushes you down until your nose meets his pelvis.

Your throat muscles are spasming around the impossibly large, impossibly deep intrusion but Kuroo keeps you there, seemingly reveling in your gags. Your drool dribbles from your lips, down his balls on to the black leather of the couch. You try breathing through your nose but you struggle. However, your discomfort is completely eclipsed by Kuroo’s moans and grunts. If it makes him feel good you’ll keep him in there as long as he wants. You’ll let him thrust into your mouth until he comes if he so choses.

Lucky for you, that’s not what he wants tonight.

You pulls you off his dick by once again but slowly this time. He watches the string of drool that connects your lips and drags you away until it snaps. He take his heavy shaft and slaps it against your right cheek. You let out a gasp and a smirk starts to play on his lips. Before you know it he’s smacking and dragging his cock all over your face, covering you in a mixture of your saliva and his pre-cum. “God damn. Prettiest fuckin’ girl in the world right here on her knees for me.” He says as he leans back to admire his handiwork.  “Open” he says. You obey without hesitation and he spits in your mouth again.

You swallow eagerly. “Thank you Tetsuro.” Your throat feels raw but you smile at him, absolutely giddy, nonetheless.

“Get up here, pretty girl.” Kuroo helps you to your feet and shimmy out of your bottoms before guiding you on to his lap so you’re straddling him. Immediately two of his fingers are inside you again, your slick cunt offering no resistance whatsoever. “You know angel, I’m still not sure how sorry you actually are.” He’s scissoring his fingers, stretching out your walls. If he were a different man, he’d thrust into you right now without any prep but he sees how fucked out you already are, there’s no need to punish you any further. His fingers move at a tortuous pace, squelching as he thrusts them in and out of you.

You’re panting. “Anything, I’ll do anything.”

The slow drag of his fingers grazing that spot inside you as he pulls out makes your eyes flutter shut. When you open them again, Kuroo is holding the same fingers in front of your face. Your boyfriend keeps is hazel eyes locked on yours as he sticks out his tongue to lick up the arousal soaking his digits.

“Hmm ‘course you will.” He slaps his fat cockhead on your sensitive clit making you squeal.

He drags his tip from your clit to your dripping slit over and over again getting it nice and wet.

You chant “Tetsu please” like some twisted prayer. You desperately want to make up for your earlier ruined orgasm.

“Wanna see you bounce on my cock, angel.”

You oblige him wordlessly, taking hold of his shaft and lining in him up with your entrance. You slowly lower yourself on to him wincing at the way he stretches you out. The prep was minimal and his fingers are no match for the size of his cock. You have to stop to breathe and blink away tears. You lift up your hips and lower yourself down slowly again, taking a little more of him inside you. You repeat the process a couple more times.

As much as watching your struggle to take his cock strokes his ego, Kuroo is growing bored. It’s time to take matters into his own hands.

Kuroo grips your hips and takes you by surprise as he thrusts up into you, making you take the whole thing. You let out a shrill cry as the tip of his cock nudges at your cervix. A heavy smack lands on your ass. “I said bounce angel.”

“So big Tetsu fuck. So big.” You whine as he pulls you up, before he sheaths his dick fully inside you, making you shriek for a second time.

God you could be such a crybaby sometimes. You were starting to piss him off again.  He pulls out of you completely and says “Turn around.”

“Tetsu no please! Wanna see you.” You pout, your eyes welling up with tears.

Another smack. This time across your face. You reach up to touch the sore skin on your cheek, it feels hot. “Don’t talk back to me you stupid slut.”

You whimper but obey his command. You don’t want Kuroo to be angry at you.

“Now sit on it.” He spanks you another time before gripping your ass and guiding his cock into you until your ass meets his groin.

Playtime is over.

Kuroo slips his hands under your thighs, grabbing the back of your knees and folding your body in half. Now he’s really fucking you. His thrusts are rough, cock knocking against your cervix repeatedly as he sinks himself into your sopping cunt over and over again. The sound of his balls slapping against your ass and the squelching of your dripping pussy make for the lewdest symphony you’ve ever heard. 

“Tetsurou ‘m close. Please” you cry. The way his dick is rubbing against your sweet spot means you won’t last long.

“No.”

Despite his denial, he doesn’t ease up on his thrusts. You’re trying to concentrate on holding back your orgasm but honestly you can’t concentrate on anything except Kuroo pistoning his fat cock in and out of you.

“Look at you.” You see your reflection in the black TV screen. “You see that?” He gives one particularly hard thrust to emphasise his point. “Fucked stupid huh?”

“Yeah Tetsu Yeah.” It’s no mirror but you can see all that you need to. You see your boyfriend using your body like a fleshlight, thrusting up into you at a relentless pace. You see your cunt split open on his cock. You see yourself being completely and utterly owned by him.

“My girl is such a fucking whore huh? My own personal porn star.”

“Need to cum nnggh let me cum please.” You’re teetering so close to the edge and Kuroo’s filthy mouth is not helping your situation in the slightest.

“Why should I let you cum hm? You’re so good when you’re desperate. Think I should keep you like this.”

“Please Tetsu. Please. Wanna be good! Wanna be your good girl Testu! Wanna take care of you! Please.”

He likes the way that sounds.

His good girl. His wife. His. His. His.

“Cum for me angel. Cum. Right now.” He says, lips pressed against your ear.

He doesn’t need to tell you twice. With the way he’s pounding his dick into your tight little pussy you have no choice but to spiral into orgasm. Your pussy spasms around his cock, pulling him deeper inside you. The hot coil in your tummy that’s been building unravels and the bliss hits you so hard you see starts. Kuroo keeps fucking up into you as you cream around him. As you come down, you go limp in his arms. That doesn’t stop him from using you though.

His grip around your thighs tightens and that’s how you know he’s getting close. “You gonna be a good girl for me? You gonna take this fat fucking load? Yeah? Take all of it deep in your cunt?” He growls right into your ear.

“Tetsu gimme pleasepleaseplease” You beg him as you cry from overstimulation, barely able to form the words.

“Take it. Take it. Fuck!” He growls as he shoots his load right into your tight, gooey pussy. You feel his hot cum fill up your womb and the sensation is so overwhelming it makes you go cross-eyed, tongue lolling out of your mouth. He grunts, still rutting into you through his orgasm. When he’s done he pulls out of you, smiling as he watches his cum leak out of your spent hole.

Kuroo loves the fact that you’re smart. But when you’re like this? Absolutely cum drunk, eyes glazed, body covered in bruises and willing to do anything he asks you to? He fucking adores you like this.

“Go take care of dinner princess, then your man is gonna take care of you some more.” He swats you on your ass.

You giggle and let your wobbly legs carry you to the kitchen with your boyfriend’s cum running down between your thighs, thoughts of your upcoming final completely fucked out of your head.

Along with every other thought not revolving around your future husband.

Kuroo reaches for his phone to text his assistant and tell her to cancel all his meetings for tomorrow. He has to go ring shopping.

[yinses]

he reminds your ex who you belong to

gojo satoru ft. f! reader + exhibition ( technically phone sex ¿) + some hair pulling + unprotected sex  wc: 2.3k

a/n: trying to get better with my tagging. i realize the community has it’s own sensitivities and i often fall short on that thought. i still owe some prompts and a few other asks but this has been siting in my drafts for a few weeks and i finally finished it up. 

it never fails to come as an interruption in your life, the shrill call of your phone blaring at inopportune times. each one conveniently impeding on time with gojo.  

your boyfriend of four months would give you that tight smile, blue eyes swimming with annoyance, but never concern. because not once did you pick up the call, always reaching out blindly to silence it without even acknowledging the accompanying messages. 

the number changes, but you learned not to accept any call from one you didn’t recognize. important communications were typically followed by voicemail and that was how you dealt with that. but the duration was becoming more tedious than either of you imagined, reaching above the white noise decibel it had been reduced to. 

“maybe i should just change my number, “ you suggest forlornly. it would ensure that he had no way to contact you freely, but it would also force you to reestablish connections with all your friends and family. it seemed like an extreme measure but when push came to shove. 

only a few moments pass before the phone picks up again, hammering down the final nail in your resolve. 

“i think you should answer.”

gojo’s unexpected intervention comes from the edge of the bed where he flips the said phone carefully from one palm to the next. his fingers brush past the two blinking options just short of selecting. 

you shift from foot to foot, not sure how to accept that response. gojo was as irritated as you were but you didn’t expect him to cave first. 

frowning, you shake your head. “i’m not so sure that’s a good idea.”

“why not?” his gaze sweeps over your face, somewhat amused by your discomfort. there is a swirl of mischief alight in those bright blue eyes.  “apparently he needs a little more than a simple no.”

he holds out the device, voice taunting but firm.

“if you don’t answer you’ll miss the call.”

as if there wouldn't be a dozen more to follow. 

your mouth feels dry, hand heavy with the weight of decision. it wasn’t as though you couldn't deal with the situation, so much as if you were prepared to. ignoring had been the more appealing option over confrontation but perhaps it had been your hesitation that had been the problem all along. ultimately your thumb taps to accept the call. 

“hello?”

‘baby, i’ve been trying to reach you for ages.’

the bed creaks but you’re too focused breathing evenly to notice. you weren’t familiar with the etiquette of many break ups, which was why this one was the hardest. it had been a long love that had followed you into the early years of adulthood before spark began to fizzle out. 

“i just answered to tell you to stop calling. i’ve already blocked your number once.”

the attempt to revive the romance before it all fell apart had been one-sided. he’d been quicker to discover other fish in the sea before you had. it seemed as though in your patience, you’d found something better while he spent his time chasing minnows without satisfaction. 

‘yes, but you didn’t give me the chance to explain. we don’t have to be over.’

you should have seen it coming. 

your shoulders tense at the press of his lips at your neck. gojo had a propensity for creating opportunities out of every little divot in life. he lived the role of a jester but held the mind of a genius. gojo had been kind in biting his lip to bare down on the jealousy simmering down beneath.

he gives you a brief grace period as his slender fingers tap the mute button then his lips return to your ear. “if you want this, get onto the bed and place the phone above your head with the speaker on.”

an immediate protest flies to your lips but doesn’t quite make it to fruition. what he’s suggestion goes beyond sexual barriers you’d set up thus far. gojo had a knack for pushing them and helping you discover new fantasies and hidden pleasures. 

at the first hint of a pout against your throat, you cave. 

so weak for him.

your ex seems none the wiser to the hitch in your voice as you press one knee to the bed, then the other before carefully rolling onto your back. swallowing the waning confidence before it leaks from your body, you seal the deal by placing the phone just above your head after activating the speaker. 

“good girl.” the words come whispered for your benefit as gojo crawls onto the bed. as if his intentions weren’t already clear enough, the prominent hardness in his pants as he slots between your legs is. you can’t help but grow dizzy at the thought of your premeditated actions, all while your thighs tighten around his form. 

his hands warm the shivers from your sides as he slides up your shirt and kisses down your navel. gojo delivers a sharp nip just before muttering a brisk,” unmute.” in reminder. 

the command comes just in time for your expected response though you’re no more prepared to deliver when gojo unbuttons your pants and works them over your hips. 

‘maybe if we could just meet somewhere?’

the sincerity coupled with your actions makes it all feel more one-sided with you playing the role of the villain. he’d been an ass, yes, but surely he didn’t deserve this. 

right?

“it doesn’t matter, were-mmph.” no part of you expected gojo to play this fairly. you choke on the response when his tongue licks a firm swipe against the fabric of your panties. 

‘what does not matter? speak to me. lets talk this out.”

funny how he chose now of all times to acknowledge the issues you had and attempted to resolve in the past. 

gojo words feel condescending as he mimics what’s heard against your cunt. there was no doubt in your mind that he’d completely written off your ex from the beginning. the same confidence from your first date dripped from his touch as he worked down the fabric from your hips. 

not once did he promise to watch his volume as he sloppily wets his fingers. he’s is ruthless as he plunged in two in on the first thrust, palm curling up to rub friction against your clit. any other time you would have revealed in his ability to make you come apart so easily, now you were more embarrassed by how much easier you felt. 

‘is this a bad time? you seem distracted.’

every time was a bad time. that was the point. 

gojo’s tongue wet the inside of your thigh, “don’t let him hang up. you want this to be his last call, remember.”

at this rate he was going to make this your last waking moment. 

somewhere between a squeak and a whimper, you managed to form words against the friction of gojo’s touch sliding in and out. “no, let’s just-i- yeah, no, we should talk it out now. i’m tired of going back and forth.”

the line pauses briefly. and you almost hope for a second he reaches clarity and saves you from the embarrassment. ‘alright then. are you really not willing to give it another shot?’

your groan of arousal is disguised by disappointment but the opposite warms gojo’s breath against your damp skin. “i didn’t realize you were dating such an idiot. how can he be so dense.” his lips smack, shiny with your stimulation.” you must just really have a thing for pretty faces, willing to look past so much.”

you were willing to look past his deviousness right now, ready to let him desecrate you over the phone like this.

“you’re pretty, toru.” you try to jab but are countered with the addition of a third finger as he starts a relently pace. the sounds are so dirty, reckless suckling sounds that had to carry. gojo made sure of it as he twisted his wrist in retaliation over every shift of your hips. 

“i am much prettier than they guy. much better at a lot,” he enunciates sharp smack to your thigh. 

then he curls just right and you turn for face into the phone and keen.

‘seriously what is going on you sound- strained.’

gojo’s chuckle vibrates within you. “poor guys don't even know what you sound like on the verge of an orgasm.”

your voice is impossibly hoarse and not very convincing as you choke out,” i’m fine. n-no look … i only answered because i wanted us to-fuck-no sorry.” gojo wasn’t making this easy. “- wanted us to reach some closure and move on.”

gojo pulls out just short of your building orgasm and you gasp breathy at the loss. 

‘we were together for two years. surely that amounts to more than just moving on.’

it did. way back when the unexpected break up had torn your hearts to shreds. the misunderstanding and lost connections had eaten you out from the inside. left you failing in the unknowns of what you did wrong and why he wanted to slow down your progress.

now it all seems insignificant in comparison the sight of your current boyfriend slowly fisting his cock. 

‘you wanted to use the break to decide if you were ready for a future together and i think we both realized that we weren't-”

gojo had chosen the right moment to intervene in your life and the moment at the head of his cock pushes through the first ring. he follows through in one motion, filling you to hilt as his hand reaches up to fist the short of your hair. 

‘baby, no one knows you like i do.’

the sharp sting of his fist clenching as he hips rock back is the last warning you get before he slams back in. there was more to the familiar precision as he ruts into you. gojo was the better man, but even he felt short to the green-eyed-monster. 

he was relentless with his pace, fucking into you harder with each new whimper you give up. your consciousness is a fleeting cloud, wafting high out of your reach as your mouth opens up to sharp cries. 

‘are you working out right now? your words sound broken.’

gojo’s hand presses into the curve of your back as he leaves over you. “fuck, you should just tell him. get this over with. let him know that you belong to someone else now. someone who is currently fucking you better than he ever could.”

your protests mirror your resolve and you can already feel your lips forming those exact words before you catch yourself. “i-i cant.” that was too much, right?

gojo didn’t seem to think so. he suddenly pulled out just enough to turn you over, hand still holding your hair hostage as he pushed your face into the mattress effectively ruining your ability to speak properly. 

“tell him, or i will. and i’ll add in every dirty little thing we’ve done leading up to this moment. you don’t belong to him anymore and he should know it. properly.”

‘hey, should i just come over?’ comes that voice again, a constant glutton for punishment.

“no!” you cry out. “i-we can’t- i’m.”

gojo decides to help you out. no longer willing to be a spectator as if he could be called such. “fuck, baby. make those pretty noises for me.”

‘is that someone else? are you with someone right now.’

gojo snatches up the opportunity, hand curling around the phone to place it against the tacky sweat accumulating against the skin between your shoulder blades. you can feel it teetering with each jerk of your body. 

“yeah, she is. apparently she needs help getting her point across. if she wants to contact you  she will do so on her terms. “ he huffs peevishly,“ until then fuck off or you can listen to me fuck her doesn’t matter to me.”

his commanding tone shouldn’t sound so hot. you can’t help but moan as he hits that spot just right. 

a high pitched ‘what the fuck’ grates unpleasantly against the mood you’re so desperate to build to its peak. 

“i take it back, hearing you screech is going to make me go soft. don’t call again.”

‘wait don’t-’ his protest comes a moment too late for gojo’s waning patient as he abruptly cuts off the call and flings the phone somewhere above your head. 

“I imagined that going much smoother in my head,” grunts as he picks up the pace.

your mouth falls open but nothing comes out. you’re unable to blink past the flood of light as you melt into the roll of his hips. there is nothing left for you to do but squeeze around him as you absorb each thrust. 

“i don’t know what i was expecting thinking you could form coherent sentences when i fuck you stupid like this.” his voice is markedly softer now, still agitated but gentler in his touch as he loosens his grip. your head turns without instruction, eagerly catching his mouth in a sloppy kiss. 

the tell tale tremble shudders from one end to the next as you dig your knees into the mattress and gyrate your hips. the angle rewards you with an opportunity to ride his cock straight into nirvana. gojo comes to shatter the already broken cry of release by manipulating speed and precision while you chant his name all the way over the edge. 

his breath comes in short rasps as he follows you over, body drawn up taut as his orgasm washes over.  

gojo’s weight is unforgiving, but thankfully brief when he collapses on top of you before rolling onto his side. he gathers you into his arms and rolls you in against his chest. his fingers chase yours and he brings them to his lips to kiss each one. 

“maybe you should have just gone with your idea and changed numbers.”

somehow you find the air to laugh as your head falls back against his sweaty shoulder. he shares your humor, smile sharp with a new prospect.

“or perhaps we can try again? maybe repeated exposure will do the trick.”