summary. satoru's crushing on suguru but finds out he's got a boyfriend! you are, however, equally dreamy, and if satoru was capable of such introspection, he might realise he has a type...
wc. 9.7k
tags. smut | dom top reader, switch bottom geto, sub bottom gojo; established geto/reader. non-sorcerer + rock/metal musician reader, reader is described as a big guy. skinny gojo supremacy, geto with piercings. somno, riding, doggystyle, exhibitionism, dub-con, degradation/praise, daddy kink (once; r. receiving), humiliation, gojo's a crybaby, edging, frotting, choking, overstimulation, gojo gets passed between reader + geto for a bit
"You brought me to a dive bar? Lame."
Suguru's brow twitches, but he says nothing – outwardly. "You were the one begging me to let you come with. Pick a side."
"I'm on the side of good music. I don't want to hear screeching kids out past their bedtimes."
"You think that's the sort of thing I listen to?"
"I mean," Satoru waves a hand in Suguru's general direction, eyeing his choice of clothes, "your outfit has so many holes in it. You could pass as a rebellious delinquent. Like one of them gyarus."
"I do not—" Suguru inhales, shaking his head; leave it to Satoru to think fishnets and cropped shirts count as clothes full of holes. His bangs sway over his eyes; for the first time in perhaps forever, his hair is loose. Satoru can't take his eyes off it when it shines blue-black under the street's neon lights. "I'm not falling for that again. Now, stop dragging your feet. We're here."
They halt in front of a big, dark block of cement. Its windows are blacked out with curtains, and years' worth of posters pasted to the walls overlap, flaking and peeling until only the fuzzy back sliver of the paper remains. The dates on the posters keep changing – the oldest one is from 1998. The ones on top are advertising weeks in the future, up to a month, and the shitty photo-editing reeks of their garage-band histories and amateurish natures.
One of the posters catches Satoru's attention. A young, attractive woman with dark hair and very few clothes on smoulders at him.
With a question on the tip of his tongue, Suguru approaches his side and follows his gaze questioningly. The eye-roll he gives is so quick it's almost pre-emptive. With a hand draped in black and silver jewellery, he grabs the back of Satoru's collar and hauls him away, almost lifting him clean off his feet. "Goodness, Satoru... Have some decency for once in your life."
"Hey! I thought you'd appreciate me taking an interest in your hobbies. And be gentle with that! It's designer!"
Suguru only lets go at the bottom of the stairs, where the evening light abruptly dims and every surface becomes twenty per cent stickier. Satoru grimaces at the palm of his hand, having caught himself against the wall when Suguru tossed him into the dingy basement like a sack of potatoes.
"This place is a real trash heap," he complains – or shouts, rather. The bass in the music rattles his bones like maracas. The place is less like a bar and more like a club. His sunglasses slip down his nose from the vibrations alone, and he pushes them up with a disapproving sniff. "Why couldn't we stay above ground? There seemed to be a perfectly okay bar up on the roof. Looked real nice and moody, too – good for dates."
"Because up there, they have to actually believe your ID," he says in a tone that adds the 'stupid' at the end for him. Without waiting for a response, Suguru pushes his hands into his pockets and leads the way into the bar. He waltzes up to the bartender, who seems to be between patrons. She dries a rocks glass in her hands. Her head bobs loosely to the beat of the live music.
He lifts two fingers. "Beer, please. Whatever's cheapest."
Satoru makes a noise at the back of his throat.
"It's not for you. Geez, Satoru, the world doesn't always revolve around you," he sighs exaggeratedly and flicks his bangs out of his eyes to meet Satoru's gaze. He smirks. "You want something to drink?" He points at the tiny backboard propped up beside him on the countertop, detailing a range of drinks and their prices. "Here are their non-alcoholics. If it won't make you sick, I recommend the raspberry float."
"Then I'll get that." Satoru leans against the bar in the space between Suguru's stool and the next. He shifts, trying to appear natural, and he places his other hand in the pocket of his jacket. He really doesn't need it in this cramped bar – not with the number of people crowding around, driving up the heat.
At the other end of the room, a large group stands at the base of a raised stage. The trio upon it complete sturdy rock covers of popular songs on the radio. They make for exciting listening, though their sound isn't what Satoru usually goes for.
Suguru flags down the bartender for Satoru's bright pink sugar abomination, and she drops off his two beers with a nod. Satoru doesn't have the time to wonder about them further before Suguru turns to him with a wry smirk.
"Sit down, greenie. You look like an idiot."
"And you don't?" he retorts, but hops up on a stool anyway. He prods the glistening mug of beer closest to him, inspecting the amber liquid within, and lifts his eyes.
What surprises him is that Suguru isn't looking at him – or at his drinks, either. Isn't one of the first rules of going to a bar ensuring one's drinks are always within sight?
He tilts his head, a light crease marring his brow. "Suguru? What're you looking at? Pay attention to me. I'm bored."
"I'm looking for someone," he replies coolly, scanning the crowds near the stage. With a sigh and a slump of the shoulders, he glances over at Satoru with a small smile, resting his elbow on the bar. "Sorry. I'm a little distracted. I haven't come here in a while, you see."
Satoru doesn't see – which is ironic – and wants to ask. But asking means he'll look his way, and that means Satoru won't be able to admire Suguru's pretty feline features for as long as he'd like. He'd get all embarrassed about it and growl at him.
Propping his chin on his knuckles, Satoru traces each curve and plane of Suguru's features with his eyes, committing every line to memory. Suguru won't always be this young, and the dim neon lighting is so nice on his skin, cutting deep shadows across the soft fantasy of his face.
Purple and green. Fitting, for a place called the Viper Lounge.
"Satoru. Your drink is here."
With a blink, he straightens up, and the pretty bartender lady shoots a knowing wink his way. The tall pink drink almost glows under the lights, and the float bobs with the tiny streams of fizzing soda bubbles that rise to the top.
Smiling to himself, Suguru glances back at the stage as Satoru's unyielding attention averts to the bartender, bothering her for a matching pink drink umbrella. The room is painted black, like a secret born to the night, and the stage matches the paint job. It makes its users seem to float several feet off the ground.
He taps his cheek with a soft sigh, fiddling with his brow piercing. His hair catches on it sometimes, but that's the price he must pay.
He watches Satoru absently. Where were you? Had your schedule changed in the weeks he'd been busy?
Then, with the faint echo of the microphone, an all-too familiar voice:
"One! Two! Three! Four!"
The leap from silence into rapid metal is violent. The drums beat lifeblood through veins. Steel shreds the guitar. Bass peels flesh from bone and snaps it back together.
Suguru's reverie shatters like glass.
There you are. Tall with confidence, clad in leather and denim. Your hair's shorter than he last remembers, but wilder, already-damp strands of hair sticking to your temples as if fresh from a romp in the sheets. Jewellery glints under the moody stage lights, and it's hypnotic, the way you charge up the crowd with your voice and your guitar. The amp by your feet is beat-up and worn, having played stepping stool to leather boots too many times, but it explodes with sound. Your sound.
You've got a quartet for a band, all faces made familiar through his connections with you. His heart flutters at the memory of your arm slung around his waist, pulling him into your side as you laugh at something your drummer said.
Satoru's head tilts as Suguru slides off the seat and grabs the two beers. "Suguru? Hey! Where are you going?"
It's too loud to hear him, what with the singing and the screaming and the heavy thump-thump-thump of drunken dancers jumping around. Suguru weaves through the crowd of crying fans – mostly girls; your bassist is your only female member – and it's easy to recognise him, his physical training and broad body letting him part the drunken gaggle just by walking forward and keeping balance.
He reaches the front of the crowd and lifts his face to you, a little smile playing at the corners of his lips. His dark eyes are endless in the shadowy room, and the way he raises the mug of beer feels like the hand of the devil. His tongue toys with his snakebite piercings, the soft pink of it peeking past his lips like a taunt.
During the lull of the song's vocals, you crouch down, avoiding the stares and grabbing hands of dozens of fans. You grip the beer – Suguru's smile widens – and rise to your feet. The rim's already at your lips, and rapid bob of your Adam's apple as you swallow invokes a wave of screams and a chant of "Chug! Chug! Chug!" that fills the bar.
Droplets run down your throat and soak into the collar of your shirt. Your skin glistens. Sweat dampens your throat and the furrow of your brow.
As the melody builds to a crescendo, you slam down the empty mug and launch into the song's chorus, the rough metal gravel of your voice sending more than one fan into hysterics.
Suguru watches the way your fingers fly over the guitar neck with impossible ease, smiling into his beer at the memories of those same fingers wrapped around his neck, his hips, his—
An arm falls over his shoulders. "Suguru! Don't run off like that again! Where you go, I go."
He glances over his shoulder. Satoru's almost shouting in his ear, and some ways behind him, he spots at the bar the empty glass with the pink umbrella balanced recklessly on the rim.
"Sorry," he shouts back, a sheepish, apologetic grin on his lips. "Got carried away. Did you like your drink?"
"Yeah," he says above the noise. "C'mon, hard to talk here! Let's find a booth."
Satoru slips in on one side, and Suguru takes the other. The deep red leather of the seats feels decadent in the low lighting, the same way velvet and jewels go together. Satoru peers over his glasses at Suguru with a shit-eating grin.
"Not gonna lie to you," he begins. "I'm pretty sure that normie over there was eyeing you up like a piece of candy."
There's a twang to his words, and Suguru smiles behind his glass of beer, leaning in and peering at Satoru closely. Nearly imperceptibly, Satoru leans away.
He straightens. "Are you jealous?" he says, almost in disbelief. "No way."
A pause.
"What?" he laughs, waving a hand as if to disperse the very thought from the air. "Jealous? Me? Of him? Don't make me laugh, Suguru. I'm way cooler! And better-looking."
"I'm not sure," Suguru hums, sparing a glance at the fans trying their damndest to touch the singer's steel-capped boots. "For starters, he drinks well."
"Don't say 'for starters' like you're about to dive into a list of compliments." Satoru pouts, crossing his arms. "Is he the person you were looking for earlier?"
"Mmh. He's got a good voice, doesn't he?"
"He sounds like he smokes three packs a day. But you don't care what I think, do you? You've already made up your mind."
Suguru chuckles, vanishing about half of his drink in two gulps. It's rather impressive. "That sound is raw talent and cultivated skill. You sound like you hate him."
"Nah, you're just trying too hard for a guy in some no-name garage band. Did you see his clothes?" He peers over his glasses at his friend. "They're western brands. Not cheap here. He's a total poser."
"But he looks good in them, right?"
"Eh. So-so."
"I bought them for him."
"I mean, they fit well on him. And they match the whole 'rockerboy' thing, but that's more because of you than him."
He hides his grin behind his beer, sipping on what remains to nurse it until your gig ends. Satoru's too predictable.
—
Later, Suguru ventures into the staff lounge with Satoru on his heels. Pleasantly warm with alcohol, he finds you alone by the couch, one boot kicked up on the footstool and an arm thrown over your eyes. Your chest rises and falls slowly with your breaths, and Suguru quietly slips around the furniture to take a seat next to you. He grasps your forearm and lowers it.
Satoru stares.
You're handsome. He gets it now.
One eye cracks open. Your hazy eyes pass over Satoru as if he's not even there – how annoying – and land on Suguru. Your gaze brightens and you sit up, lowering your boots to the ground.
"Oh, it's you!"
Your voice is surprisingly mellow, low and smooth like caramel. Despite your neutral affect – and the fact that you're not even addressing him – Satoru's cheeks warm.
"It's me." Suguru's voice is soft.
You gaze at him a while longer, the pause filled with your bright, contradicting smile. Then you grunt and sit forward with your elbows on your knees, your leather jacket creaking quietly. "My favourite man. What can I do you for?"
"You're too sweet, YN," he says, a flicker of shyness crossing his features. "Haven't seen you in a while."
Your brow furrows and you sigh, glancing aside. "I know, I'm sorry, doll. It's been difficult trying to adjust to my new job – just been dead tired all the time. Anyway – what is this, an interrogation? You gonna introduce me to your buddy or what?"
You cock your head up at Satoru, who stands in front of you with his hands in his pockets. With Suguru to your side and the corner of the room on the other, you have nowhere to go.
Suguru spares a glance at his friend. "Satoru, sit down." He turns back to you. "He wanted to come and I couldn't stop him. Just ignore him. I wanted to talk to you."
"Sure. What about?"
He places a hand on your knee. His nails are painted black. "I really wanna stay at your place."
If Satoru wasn't watching closely, he would've missed the way your eyes widened the slightest bit. He has to commend you – you smother it quickly.
"Tonight?"
"Mhm." He shuffles closer to you. His fingers twitch as he glances down at your hand, as if he has to suppress the urge to take it in his own. "Thought we could catch up a bit – braid each other's hair, do our nails, the whole nine yards."
You blink. "That's... awfully forward of you. You usually dance around these things until I finally figure it out."
His lips twitch up. "I can be direct when I want to be."
"Oh, so you just enjoy riling me up."
"I like what comes after."
Suguru's head tilts slightly, and your faces are an inch apart. His eyes flicker to your lips.
"Of course you can stay, Suguru," you murmur, your expression softening. "I'm glad you came here."
"Even though I'm breaking the rules?"
"My whole shtick is being counter-culture. That includes disobeying rules when they're stupid."
"When they're stupid," he echoes. He smiles, his dimples losing him his tough-guy persona. He bumps your shoulder with his, tucking his loose hair behind his ear. "Are you staying here for any reason?"
You shake your head. "Been paid and everything. I'm just abusing the couch for an air-conditioned nap. The others are going clubbing in a few hours if you want to meet up with 'em and say hi."
"Did you want to go?"
"Nah. I had a killer headache last night and don't want it coming back. Mostly, I planned to bake something."
Satoru can't hold it in any longer. "You bake?"
Two sets of eyes swivel to him where he stands by the fridge, checking out its contents.
"Uh, yeah." You turn to Suguru and stretch, resting an arm over the backrest behind his shoulders. A classic, almost dorky move, and one you do all the time, but Suguru's heart still flutters. "Who is this guy, by the way? Why's he wearing sunglasses inside? You're not cool, dude."
"I have sensitive eyes," he declares, pointing overhead at the bright, artificial white lights. "Name's Satoru."
You raise a brow. "I think you've been mentioned once. Last name?"
"Need-to-know basis."
You narrow your eyes at him.
Suguru interrupts the staring contest, shoving himself into your line of sight. "You said you had a headache. Are you okay?"
You drop the glare and smile at Suguru, squeezing his shoulder. "Mm, don't worry about it, baby. Nothing a few painkillers can't solve."
He lifts a hand to your face, tracing the shape of your cheek with his knuckles. His touch is so light it almost tickles. "If you say so. Don't forget to sleep more. It's not good for your skin."
You offer a fond smile. While swiping a few chocolates from the bowl on the table, Satoru notices how Suguru leans into your touch and how he presses his side into yours as much as he can, thighs and shoulders brushing. He didn't know he was... that sort of person.
Rather vacantly, Satoru thinks he should be more upset right now. After all, he's been pining after Suguru for the past year, and now he finds out that Suguru's got some normie with tight leather pants falling into his bed? He was planning on confessing after Suguru's birthday, but he supposes he should trash that plan.
Fuck. Awkward.
"Hey, Satoru." Suguru's soft voice draws him out of his thoughts. "YN wants to try a new recipe. Wanna come with?"
"You're gonna be my guinea pigs," you agree. Your heavy gaze rakes Satoru's body, and he suppresses a warm shiver. "Or my little white mouse."
Satoru tries to ignore his blush. He straightens, pocketing another chocolate. "You don't care about inviting a stranger to your house?"
"Any friend of Suguru's is a friend of mine." You stand and stretch with a pleased groan that feels far too intimate. "I don't have shit worth stealing, anyway, unless you count my banged-up guitar. It's, like, twenty years old."
"Not old enough to be vintage, too young to be seriously desirable." Suguru sighs, slumping against your side dramatically as you pass through the door together. "Story of my life."
"Ew. Don't joke about that." You glance past Suguru – Satoru's eyes, you notice past the glasses, are an unexpected shade of cornflower blue. "Hey, Baby Blues. How'd you two meet?"
"Hm? Oh, high school."
"Ah, you two are the same age?"
"Same class and everything," Suguru says as you wander towards your car, the keys jingling in your pocket as you try to find the correct one by touch alone. There's a shadow of a guitar case in the back of the car. "Can't get rid of him anymore."
"That just means you always have someone to shout you a drink or two." You pull open the door for Suguru and draw a vaguely round shape in the air with a finger. "Karma's a circle."
"Yeah? And where are you in that circle?"
Swiftly, you shut the door and turn to Satoru, nodding your head in the direction of the car. "Hop in, Blue! You'll be glad you came when you try my tiramisu."
—
Some time later, Satoru finds himself on your soft leather couch, nursing a very flushed Suguru on his left and a less-flushed you on his right. You cackle at his attempts to take the game controller off Suguru, and when Suguru gets touchier in order to body-block him, you can tell from his flustered expression that he doesn't really know how to deal with it when you're right there.
"I'm fine," Suguru sighs, batting Satoru's hands off. He leans in further, trying to push him back, when he persists. "Satoru, you're blocking my view with your big head! It's your fault if I die."
You own a PS2 with a pretty neat collection of games. Suguru is doing less than well with Metal Gear Solid 3.
"Let me have a turn," Satoru pleads, pouting when Suguru expertly weaves the controller away from him. He's had years of practice with it. "I'm so good at stealth games! Lemme try, I wanna go—"
"Just say you wanna impress YN. It's less desperate, man."
Satoru's jaw snaps shut with an audible click. His eyes are so blue that Suguru can see the shine of them behind his almost-opaque glasses.
Suguru smirks and shifts on the couch, tossing his legs over Satoru's lap victoriously. He settles comfortably among the pillows and returns his attention to the television.
"W-What?" he stutters. Did he hear that right? Was he drunk on the tiramisu's brandy?
"It's okay," Suguru says, sneaking past a guard successfully. He smiles victoriously, lip piercings glinting in the light. "I wouldn't mind sharing if it was you. Have you seen the size of him? I can't eat all that by myself."
You chuckle, one arm slung over the back of the couch. In your other hand is a brandy glass, the dark amber alcohol you used in the tiramisu sparkling under the light as you gesture with the glass. "Dunno 'bout that last bit. You try pretty hard to."
"I don't like leaving my meals half-finished. I'm also generous to those less fortunate – Satoru's never dated anyone, you know? I wouldn't want him getting hurt by some selfish asshole because he doesn't know any better. That's why I think you'd be good for him."
The colour of Satoru's face rivals Suguru's. He rubs his cheeks, sinking into the couch. "Stop telling him my life story! You're making me sound really uncool. You're so wasted, Suguru – is this what you're like outside of school?"
"I'm not that far gone," Suguru groans, controller going limp in his hand. He reaches around Satoru to give it to you, which you accept – you immediately start blitzing through the in-game building, attention now completely elsewhere. He levels him with an unimpressed stare. "I could probably take you right now."
"You want to fight me in your boyfriend's apartment?" Satoru squawks. "He made food for you! Control yourself. Gosh..."
"'Control thine emotions'," he mocks. "I'm perfectly in control. You need to admit that you like my boyfriend."
"I don't." Panic drips from his voice.
"You totally do. It's cute – I've never seen you with a crush on anyone. A rich boy liking an underground rockstar? Embarrassing. I've read that manga before."
"No, I don't – I'm not a manga protag—" He cuts himself off, jabbing a finger into Suguru's chest. "I just have eyes, okay? I can tell when someone's, like, visually appealing. You're visually appealing. Doesn't mean I'm going goo-goo over you."
With a roll of his neck, Suguru leans in, propping his elbow on his shoulder. He levels his gaze at him, blinking slowly.
He sucks in a breath. He can smell his honey-scented shampoo. He's holding on by the skin of his teeth.
"A-And," Satoru continues, shifting in his seat. How incredibly unfortunate it is that he's sitting between you and Suguru. Why is that, anyway? Weren't you the ones dating? "You're being weird. Who the fuck talks about this? Like, seriously."
"YN and I talk like this all the time. You're just a prude." He sticks out his tongue, and the flash of a silver piercing studded into his tongue leaves Satoru breathless and shocked. He scrambles forward, reaching towards him, and pinches Suguru's jaw with one hand.
"What the hell is that?" he exclaims, brows furrowing. Memories of the previous conversation are all but gone.
Suguru lifts an eyebrow, glancing aside. He'd almost forgotten how strong Satoru can be. "What's what?"
"That." He shifts his grip, forcing Suguru's lips to part. His tongue flicks against his front teeth, and the little silver ball catches the light.
"A pierthing," he replies, muffled. He lets Satoru, alarmed at their sudden closeness, pull away first with a scandalised blush. Suguru rubs his cheeks and lets his tongue loll out of his mouth, showing it off with a glint in his dark eyes.
Satoru stares. How is his tongue so long?
"Cool, right? I wanted to match YN's look. It makes us look ten times better than the next couple."
He blinks himself out of his daze. "Did it hurt?"
"Not as much as you'd think. I had to get used to talking with it, though – I was lisping like crazy while it healed. I was thinking of getting a septum piercing to balance it out – or just more on the ears."
"You never tell me anything." He pouts. "How'd I never notice it...?"
"You think I don't tell you things? Fine. How about this?" Suguru shuffles forward and drapes an arm over Satoru's shoulders. He offers a lazy smirk and cups a hand by Satoru's ear. "It makes guys feel great."
His heartbeat pounds in his skull. He swears Suguru glances down at his lips – but that could be his woozy double vision. His hair looks so soft...
"Done," you announce, setting the controller in Satoru's lap – he picks it up hastily before Suguru can nab it. He huffs and crosses his arms, empty-handed. "Your turn, Blue. I wanna see some slick action, or we both get to watch Suguru struggle with holding people up."
"I am not that bad!" he snaps. "The controller buttons are sticky."
"A bad workman blames his tools," Satoru says automatically.
He immediately begins to argue.
Hm. You can see why Suguru's so endeared with the white-haired man, especially when he takes off his glasses to blink his huge, glossy blue eyes up at him. He's pouting, Suguru's waving his arms around, and you're certain you've got enough room in your bed for three.
—
In the darkness of your bedroom, you're slowly dragged from the depths of sleep by a weight above you. Your brow furrows, a little grumble falling from your lips, as hands trail down the sides of your face and play with your hair.
"YN."
You release a soft breath.
"YN. Wake up."
Your eyes crack open, and you find yourself frowning up at Suguru's shadowy figure. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust, but when they do, you notice that he's not wearing any pants.
He shifts on your lap, face inches from yours. His long hair is swept over his shoulder, slightly messy with sleep. His eyes, however, are perfectly awake, staring down at you with an animal hunger.
"Hey, you," he whispers fondly, barely a breath. He lowers his body over yours even further until your chests press together. You wrap a lazy arm around his waist. "Need you, baby."
"Suguru," you whisper back, only just now noticing the state of your boxers. They're slick and sticky, and you know for certain not all of it is because of you. "How long have you been at this?"
"Five, ten minutes. I don't know. I got impatient." He ghosts his lips over yours, tucking his hair over his ear before he cups your face. "Need you so bad. Need you right now."
"Fuck, seriously?" you huff, shifting slightly so you can rest back on an elbow. "Damn nymphomaniac..."
A body beside you rolls over. You freeze.
Shit. You'd forgotten he was here. Satoru had been insistent on taking the couch, but Suguru's large brown eyes and sweet words had worn him down. When you chimed in to express your agreement with your boyfriend, he'd broken fully, and accepted.
"I've already prepped myself," Suguru breathes, pressing his bare cock against the front of your boxers. He rolls his hips slowly, kissing you equally torturously. "Please, baby? Needa come so bad."
His words are slurring. Usually so put-together, Suguru grinds against your growing bulge with a soft whimper, eyes fluttering shut as his cockhead catches on the cloth.
He's going to be the death of you.
You place your hands on his waist, lifting him just enough to reach your waistband and free yourself from your boxers. Suguru sighs shakily and tucks the band below your balls, batting away your hand to be able to hold it himself. You roll your eyes at his attitude but allow him to admire your cock. He nibbles on his lower lip as he rakes its length with his heavy gaze.
"You're already hard," he teases under his breath, closing his fist around it and stroking it from tip to base and back again in one rough motion. You jump slightly, a hiss slipping out between your teeth. Suguru silences you with a hot kiss, his tongue pushing into your mouth as he strokes you and swallows your sounds.
He shifts cautiously on his knees, mindful of Satoru's still body next to him, and opens his hand to slot his cock against yours. He purrs as he tugs them both, head falling against your shoulder as he rocks back and forth atop your lap.
"So good," he whispers into your skin, his hot breath fanning your neck. You can feel him tremble – with excitement, with exertion. His breaths are shaky as he quickens his fist, rutting against you.
He's dripping. Your shared arousal slicks up your cocks, and Suguru's wet palm squelches quietly with every stroke. He shudders out a soft moan, nails digging into the pillow beneath your head.
"Is this what you wanted?" you growl under your breath, hands pressing firmly against his waist and forcing him to grind harder into your cock. His hips stutter. "Fuckin' whore, doing this when your best friend's a foot away from you..."
He swallows a moan as you dig your thumb into his leaky slit. "Y-Yes – yes, I wanted this. 'M sorry for being such a slut," he whines softly, his thick thighs tensing atop yours. His cock jumps as Satoru shifts in his sleep. "Oh, fuuuck..."
You chuckle breathlessly as Suguru leans into you, his slick fist squelching louder as he grinds more desperately into you. You hold your hand in place, formed into a loose circle, and allow Suguru to fuck into it as his tip catches on the ridge of your glans with every thrust.
"G-Gonna come," he whispers against your jawline, free hand tangling in your hair. His little moans feel so much louder right by your ear, and your heart races whenever it pitches that much higher. "Ohh, god..."
"Yeah," you pant, wrapping your arms around his waist and holding him close. You press your palm against his shoulder – his heart pounds through his back. "That's right, dollface. Don't hold back. I wanna see my pretty slut come for me, alright? Wanna have your come all over me."
His rushed, shallow little humps rock the mattress dangerously. You grip the shelf of his hips in warning, slowing him down. He whimpers like an injured animal, pleading.
Swallowing roughly, you wrap one hand around his cock and use the other to grip his plush ass beneath his oversized t-shirt, your fingers digging into the soft skin. He gasps softly and presses into your touch, humming gratefully as you jerk him off, your thumb swiping over his swollen tip.
With an arch of his spine, his arms tightening around you, he comes, his pants and sighs soft and breathy against your skin. He presses his hips against yours, coating your cock and stomach with spurts of hot come.
Your head falls back against the pillow, an exhale escaping your lips as your eyes flutter shut. Suguru collapses on top of you, hips still jerking intermittently, and you can feel his sticky pleasure dripping down your sides in rivulets. Fuck.
Suguru tucks his head under your chin, dragging a thumb down your side and smearing his pearly release over your warm skin. Your stomach tenses under his touch and he smiles, tongue running over his piercings.
"I want yours inside me," he declares, leaving no room for argument. "Don't waste it."
"Waste it?" you breathe. "Waste it for what? You want kids or something?"
His lashes flutter as his gaze lifts to yours, dark and smoky. "Something like that."
He picks himself up and positions himself upright on your lap, shifting on his knees to better balance his weight. He glances at Satoru's curled body and mop of messy white hair, almost glowing in the darkness. Heat swirls in his stomach as he notices how tightly Satoru's gripping his pillow. A wicked grin tugs at his lips.
Suguru grinds his ass against your cock, one hand reaching back to rub the tip and press it against his fluttering hole. He lets the tip catch against his rim, throwing his head backwards and scattering long locks of hair in a cascade down his back. His hole clenches around nothing.
"Feels like you're about to burst," he teases softly, continuing to rub against the shaft. "Your balls are so heavy, too... Please let me have your come, daddy. I want it all inside me."
"Dirty little thing. If you can stay quiet, I'll let you have it," you mutter, bending one knee to give him some support. He grips it, lifting his hips, and slowly sinks down on your thick cock, hole clenching and fluttering around you at the stretch.
"I can, I promise." He exhales shakily, expression twisted with pleasure and pain. "Fuck."
"Take it easy," you murmur, eyes flashing with concern.
He chuckles, breathy. "What if I said I liked it?"
"I'd call you a whore."
"And I'll prove it." With a sharp inhale, his hole swallows the rest of your cock in a single gulp. His thighs quiver, his mouth falling open in a silent moan. His cock throbs, hot against his skin.
"Holy shit," you exhale, eyes wide as he trembles around your dick, his long hair flowing over his shoulders as he stares down at the join of your bodies, fascinated by his own capacity. You can feel every pulse of his heartbeat, every ripple of his silken insides. He's tight as a vice, gripping your cock, and he moans softly as a spurt of precome makes the fit a little easier.
He grins, eyes dazed but focussed solely on you. He moans when you wrap your fingers around his cock, wet and hot, and begins to rock his hips, fucking into your grasp.
"Hard already," you note in an almost condescending tone of voice, twisting your fist and making him suck in a sharp breath. "You're such a pervert, aren't you, Suguru? Touching your boyfriend when he's sleeping, riding him where your best friend could wake up and see how shameful you are... I bet you'd fuckin' come if he watched you like this."
A hand shoots up to muffle his cry. Your cock nudges his prostate and he presses into it, but you keep shifting your damn hips to avoid knocking into it directly.
He's helpless. Why did you know him so well? Why was he cursed to suffer at the hands of a sadist?
"Quiet," you whisper warningly, grip tightening on his hips and forcing him to keep moving. You experiment with a few upward thrusts, meeting his bounces halfway with meaty smacks that feel far too loud in the silence of the room.
"I can't keep quiet if you're fucking my brains out," he hisses, but his aggression melts away the moment you crush his prostate head-on. Briefly, his eyes roll back to show their whites, and he shudders out a broken, muffled moan.
You pat the side of his ass, making him flinch at the sound. "Relax," you huff offhandedly, "I'm not even doing all that much. You're just too much of a slut to notice the difference – a cock inside you, and all your thoughts fly right out the window. You're so pretty, doll. Stop thinking so hard."
"Asshole," he grunts, but doesn't stop bouncing. He throws his head back. "Ohh, fuck me, your cock is so damn good..."
"That's right, baby. Just like that," you groan, his tight slick hole dragging with every lift of his hips. His pace grows unsteady, messy, a creamy white ring forming around the base of your shaft. You quicken your strokes, matching Suguru's shallow bounces, and he gasps your name, cock spurting precome that you smear over his shaft to make the glide easier – filthier.
"Fuck me," he curses, his voice growing dangerously whiny. "Why are you holding back? Just come! Come inside, please, I-I'm so close, wanna come with you—"
You thrust into him roughly and squeeze his cock. He chokes out a sharp gasp, far too loud, as thick come paints his insides white. He spills into your hand, his creamy release running over your knuckles and down his swollen, pulsing shaft. He grips your shoulders, nails digging into your skin, and his sides tighten as his movements slow, each bounce long and slow as he grinds down as deep as possible.
His muscles loosen as he pants, slumping down on top of you as he dips his tongue between your lips. You groan lazily as his piercing bumps your teeth and rolls against your tongue. You squeeze his hip, smoothing your palm over the generous curve of his ass. Your lips smack softly and he shivers, his cock giving one more valiant throb.
In the corner of his vision – the peripherals of his senses – Satoru twitches.
Suguru sits up immediately, to your confusion.
"Baby?"
He hushes you, not sparing you a glance. His gaze bores into his friend's back.
"Satoru?" he whispers.
Like clockwork, he stiffens.
A grin tugs at Suguru's lips. You stare up at him, propped up on an elbow. You don't have his sorcery-enhanced sensitivities – you don't notice that the white-haired figure next to you is breathing harder than usual, or that he's shifting far too much for sleep.
"Satoru," he hums, soft and coaxing. "I know you're awake."
Your heart drops like a stone. Suguru, however, smiles wider.
"Not moving won't do anything, you know."
Then—
Slowly, he sits up. His hair is more of a mess than it usually is. His oversized white shirt has risen slightly and shows off a sliver of pale skin.
Suguru is going to kill him. He's sure of it. His voice is soft and dangerous.
"How long were you awake?"
His head feels foggy, still reeling from shock. "Uh..."
Suguru lifts a hand to his mouth, eyes crinkling with a little titter. He points down at Satoru. "Long enough, I'd wager."
He looks down. His face explodes with heat.
The hard-on strains at the front of his shorts. A dark spot mars the cloth where his tip would be.
Shit. Fuck. He'd borrowed your clothes – so had Suguru – and here he was, soiling them with his envy and desperation. He was such a freak.
"I-I can explain," he stammers, and you can't help admiring the way he seems to swim in your clothes. The elastic in the shorts had to be pulled as tight as possible for it to stay up without help, and even then, they sat teasingly low, showing off his delicate hipbones whenever he stretched.
Smirking, Suguru gradually lifts his hips, eyes fluttering as he pulls off of your cock. Satoru's ocean eyes widen at the sight of it resting on your stomach.
"No need," he says evenly. Satoru doesn't need his Six Eyes to catch the drop of pearly liquid rolling down the inside of his thigh as he leans over to turn on the lamp on the bedside table. It douses the room in a faint golden glow. He bites back a whine as Suguru continues, as if nothing's wrong. "Come here, Satoru."
When he extends his hand, it's like salvation. Satoru stares at his kind, open palm.
He takes it. Suguru's slender fingers wrap around his, tugging him closer. He coaxes him nearer, the way one would with a frightened animal.
You're looking at him. You're both looking at him. Something sick and twisted in him likes it.
"Do you want us?" Suguru says softly. "Or have I read you wrong?"
Satoru swallows around the dry lump in his throat. His lips part. "I... I thought you wouldn't like me that way."
"Oh, Satoru," Suguru croons, lifting a hand to brush his white bangs out of his eyes. "Always so perceptive about everything but yourself."
Satoru's eyes dart away and amongst his jittering nerves, he latches onto the steadiness of your gaze, trained on him. He flushes when you smirk, your bare upper body displayed like a piece of art beneath his stare.
"Who do you want first?" you ask, and Suguru presses himself into your side. You level your gazes at him, and he stutters out some nonsense before falling quiet, pinned beneath your attention. "Suguru's already prepped, if you swing that way."
Suguru rolls his eyes at your choice of words, though he smiles fondly. "Surely he wants you, rockerboy. You're new – a novelty."
"And you're something familiar in an unfamiliar situation. Why wouldn't he choose you?"
"Can't I have both?" Satoru says quietly, though he blanches when your shared attention turns to him. "U-Uh, I mean—"
Suguru turns to you thoughtfully. "Hm?"
Your eyes glitter. "Hm."
—
"That's it, sugar," you chuckle, sliding a warm palm up Satoru's side to wrap around his throat. He gasps as you grip his jaw, forcing his lips to part, and maybe you're stronger than he'd like to admit – one hand on his shoulder, one around his throat, and that's all you need to lift him plain off the bed. His fingers scrabble at the sheets, barely brushing, and in his desperation, he grips your waist. The position only has him arching even further, your cock slamming into his bruised and sensitive prostate.
"Ah, ah, ah," he moans, eyes fluttering and silvery hair sticking to his damp temples. "Ah – Suguru, d-don't watch...!"
You wrench his head up, forcing a cry from his throat. You click your tongue, shaking your head. "Tsk tsk tsk. Look at him. Look, Satoru."
He mewls and obeys despite the hot shame and arousal crawling around his guts. The way you say his name makes him dizzy – not soft and purring like Suguru, not reverential or tense like other sorcerers. To you, he's just a brat, and you're firm with him in a way that nobody else has ever been. Not cruel – just firm.
When Satoru lifts his watery gaze to Suguru, he finds him staring down at the length swinging between his legs. His hole clenches as his thighs attempt to close – to hide himself away. You hiss in pleasure, knocking his knees apart with your own.
"Fuck," you rasp, stroking his lean hip and admiring the way bruises bloom red on his pale skin. "Look him in the eye, Satoru. You wanna make him come, right? We're doing this for Suguru. Don't be so selfish that you forget who you're serving."
"S-Sorry," he hiccups, shakily arching his back and exposing his bare, leaking cock, deep red with want. His gasps and moans are loud, echoing off the walls, almost drowning out the sound of your thighs smacking his ass. "Ah—! S-Slow down, I – nngh!"
Satoru's cock throbs painfully. The cockring you'd placed on him strangles his base, and his heartbeat pulses in his dick. He wants to come really bad.
"Are you sure that's what you want?" Suguru's foot nudges his pulsating cock, pressing roughly against it. A teasing smile plays at his lips and he hums as Satoru chases the friction with a miserable, choked noise, whimpering when you drag him back towards you.
"I-I – it feels—" He can't think straight, head spinning like he's been slammed against concrete one too many times. His breath snags on the thick air as your fingers dig into his jaw. Your dick punches the breath from his lungs, dragging the painful pleasure up from deep in his belly. He sniffles softly, hazy eyes welling with crystal tears. "Ahn – Suguru," he sobs, so weak and pathetic even to his own ears that it makes his cock swell within its cage, its tip drooling incessantly.
How cute – begging his best friend for help. As if he'd listen.
"Don't slow down," whispers Suguru, voice like silk. "He can take it. He's the strongest."
That means nothing to you, but Satoru's gut clenches violently. Humiliation curls around his thoughts, burning the fringes of his mind with an electrifying shame.
Suguru slinks forward, sliding his thigh between yours in the mess of legs. His touch flutters over Satoru's warm cheeks and he presses close. You slow your pace to a snail's crawl, dragging against and kissing Satoru's swollen gummy prostate.
"I can't," Satoru whimpers, weak in your hold. He leans into Suguru's gentler touch. "I can't do it. I can't. It's too much."
"No, it's not. Don't be silly," Suguru hums, taking his cock in his hand and making Satoru sob and jerk. He aligns it with his, rutting against it lazily. God, he's got another fucking piercing right beneath the glans of his dick – it catches, smooth and hard, on the ridge of Satoru's tip. His bright eyes lose their focus and his hips twitch. "I'm not letting you go until I think you're done. Just try not to pass out, okay?"
"He won't. He's a good bitch – barely needs any training. He takes me like a fuckin' champ." Your cock punches into his guts and he squeals, his cries high and melodic even as he falls limp in your hands, his fingers scrabbling at your hips and thighs. Suguru moans at the contact, his fist wrapped around both his and Satoru's lengths. "F-Fuck – you're both so damn pretty like this."
Satoru gasps as Suguru smiles and leans over his shoulder to kiss you. Pressed between your bodies, Satoru can hear every wet smack and soft moan of your kisses right in his ear. His cock throbs violently, leaking a constant stream of pre.
Suguru's hands rest on his hips, gently guiding him back and forth between your cock and his. His cock is warm and velvety, and Satoru whimpers as Suguru presses further into him to kiss you deeper with a pleased sigh. Your grip tightens on Satoru's jaw, pulling him into your chest, and he mewls, squeaky little moans falling from his lips as your cock fills him up over and over again, fucking him like he made you angry.
"S-Suguru—!" He can't get the rest of his sentence out before two thick fingers shove into his mouth. His yelp melts into a moan as they press down on his tongue, silencing him.
"Hot," Suguru observes, parting from you to catch his breath and watch the way his friend sucks and drools on your fingers, his cerulean eyes dazed and glossy. "Kiss me again."
You oblige, twisting your hand in his long, loose hair and pulling him towards you. His lips are warm and plush, and his breath hitches as your tongue rolls across his, flicking the silver piercing there. You pull back for air but he doesn't let you, yanking you back in and tracing the length of your tongue with a debauched moan.
Satoru can hear it all. He can't watch – no, not with your firm grip on his jaw – but not being able to see makes everything ten times worse. He feels like a toy, his high withheld and his sight limited. For all his gifts, he still has to fucking turn to see things, and he wishes really, really badly that he knew what it looks like.
He can imagine it clearly. Your faces flushed, your hair mussed. Suguru's delicate features relaxed into a wanton expression, his piercings glinting in the low light as his tongue twists with yours. Your brow furrowed, your lips swollen, as you suck on his tongue.
Desperately, with tears in his eyes, he slobbers around your fingers, gripping your wrist in both hands. Saliva runs down your knuckles and Satoru chokes as you push your fingers deeper, sliding over his tongue possessively. He adapts quickly, muffled moans high and needy as your cock slams into his guts.
He swears you can't be a non-sorcerer. How else could you ruin him so easily? How else are you tracking every little twitch that gives away his most sensitive places? How else are you still going?
You've backed off now, instead staring at Satoru and the way his lips close around your fingers like they're a cock. Suguru, equally mesmerised, licks his lips.
As if you're one being, you remove your fingers from Satoru's slick mouth, and Suguru cups his face and kisses him.
Kisses him.
Kisses him.
He can't think. His body moves on instinct, his teeth clashing with Suguru's in a messy and uncoordinated manner, but he is kind, and he coaxes control from him to teach him how to kiss. Blue eyes made even bluer with the red ringing his lashline, Satoru moans and scratches at Suguru's shoulders, cock throbbing as the ring bites into his raw shaft. Suguru's fingers brush against his tight, aching balls and he blubbers like he's going to die.
"Please," he manages to choke out, gasping and jerking as Suguru scrapes his nails down his dark red length. "P-Please..."
He doesn't even know what he's begging for. More? Less? For Suguru to stop looking at him as if he'd hung the stars? He's a sinful, degenerate mess, he knows it – far from the perfect and powerful sorcerer the world expects. The Gojo clan heir, ruined on something so obscene and mortal as a big, thick cock.
You turn his face towards you, watching the tears fall over the flushed apples of his cheeks. He's so pale that every little touch burns him with lust, and his embarrassment spreads from his cheeks to his chest and down his shoulder blades.
You press your lips against his and he whimpers, a hand shooting up to grip your hair. He kisses back, moaning as you swipe your tongue over his lower lip, and the slick sounds of your lips smacking makes his walls flutter and clench around you.
He's clumsy, but eager. He whines like a puppy, bouncing on your cock, and leans into your touch when your hand smooths over his stomach, shiny and slick with his pre. He pants into your mouth. You swallow his moans.
Firm and swift, Suguru snatches Satoru's chin and pulls his face towards his. He makes an ugly sound as Suguru wraps his hand back around their cocks, forming a loose hole for them to fuck into – Suguru's release is thick and creamy, and it feels filthy when he smears it over both their cocks.
He came! He came, he realises joyfully, relief and arousal flooding his veins in equal parts – he came because of him! Satoru melts into the kiss, lips slick and parted as they pant and moan, sharing hot breaths between them. The air is muggy. Suguru licks into his mouth, hardly human, and tears stream down Satoru's cheeks, his brain so mushy he can't tell your limbs from Suguru's, or his own from the bedsheets.
Barely letting him breathe, you grab Satoru's face and stick your tongue down his throat. He hiccups, eyes rolling back as you grind into his ass and come with a grunt in hot, thick spurts. His toes curl and his lips pout pathetically, chasing yours when you pull back to check on Suguru. He whines and tugs your hair to make you turn those pretty eyes back to him again, your warmth spilling into him and making him yours. You allow it, your tongue running over the slick nubs of his teeth.
Suguru scrapes his canines over Satoru's pale throat, only marred by his blush. That won't do. He drags his pierced tongue down his jugular and across his Adam's apple, made more pronounced by the angle of his neck – Satoru sobs into your mouth, chest heaving as he grips Suguru's hair and feels the sting of hickeys bitten into his fair skin.
Through his tears and dizzy pleasure, he's given back to Suguru, who coos at him and kisses him sweetly – no tongue this time, just their swollen lips moulded together as if they belong right there and nowhere else. He twitches as your teeth sink into his shoulder, decorating his other side with love bites. He's never gonna be able to hide them all.
Passed around like a cigarette, like a whore, Satoru barely realises it when Suguru slips off the cockring – with some difficulty, as his cock, stomach, and thighs are so wet with pre that it makes everything feel like a damn waterslide. The moment it scrapes over his swollen tip, he's crying out and tensing, sobbing as heavy spurts of sticky come spray Suguru's stomach and thighs.
He tries to say their names – because they're so kind, so good to him, he has to say thank you and be grateful because they could've left him there all by himself – but the first syllables of their names devolve into relieved, babbling moans. Suguru strokes his hair, holding him close, as you help him ride out his bliss, your pace gradually slowing as he twitches and jolts in your hands.
As his high peters out, he slumps into Suguru's arms, whining shakily as you pull out with a slick pop. He clenches around nothing, his hole gaping and abused, and clutches Suguru like a lifeline.
You hum, pressing a thumb against Satoru's dark puffy hole and pulling gently. Feebly, it clamps around nothing, and a dribble of thick white come leaks out, joining the mess between his legs.
Man, those legs. He could be a model with a body like that. Despite being taller, Satoru's slimmer than Suguru, and he feels tiny and fragile in your palms, shuddering and trembling. You squeeze his slim thighs, watching his fair skin dimple under your touch like marble, and his muscles twitch, unsure whether to pull away or press into you. He decides on the latter, moaning softly when you grab his ass appreciatively.
"Such a darling," Suguru hums, voice light and adoring as he brushes the tears from Satoru's warm red cheeks with his thumb. "You did well, Satoru."
Giggling dreamily, he nibbles on his lower lip, pushing his cheek against Suguru's shoulder. He reaches blindly behind him, and when he finds your hand, he pulls you in behind him, forcing your arm to wrap around his little waist. He purrs, perfectly pleased now that he's squished between two big, warm bodies. "Yeah...?"
Suguru nods, his long hair falling over Satoru's shoulder too. "Yeah."
Eyelids half-closed and nose buried in Suguru's neck, Satoru follows easily as you lead them to lay down on the bed. When your arm loosens around his waist, however, his hand shoots out with startling speed and accuracy.
"W-Where are you going?"
If you didn't know any better, you'd think he sounded afraid.
"Bathroom. Gotta get you two cleaned up before it gets gross," you reply gently. He has Suguru to ground him. That doesn't seem like enough, though, because his large blue eyes well up again and his lower lip trembles. His grip tightens around your wrist and you're surprised when it almost begins to hurt.
"Stay," he whispers, slender pale neck craned to look you in the eye. It's covered in bruises and bite marks.
"I'm not leaving," you chuckle, stroking his inner wrist with your thumb. "You're in my bedroom. Nowhere else for me to go."
He shakes his head, stubborn – they're both like that. "Don't care," he whimpers, tugging insistently. "Come back. Clean later."
"But you're the messiest one here, Satoru," you point out, amused, and you don't miss the way he shivers when you say his name. "Surely you don't want to stay that way?"
"Don't care," he repeats in a mumble. He hums as you obey his iron grip and return to the bed, lying down in front of him. He snuggles into your chest, sighing soft and content as Suguru shuffles closer behind him. He feels your arm join Suguru's, resting over his waist. The heavy weight of them combined and the radiating warmth from your chests fade his thoughts into pleasant nothingness.
"Suguru?" you murmur.
"Hm?" His chest rumbles delightfully against Satoru's back.
"I've got him. You can get washed up if you like."
"It's alright. He'll pull me back down, just like you. It doesn't feel bad – I sorta like it. I've been covered in worse, anyway."
You curse under your breath, arm shifting around Satoru. "Do I wanna know?"
"No."
You chuckle lightly, and your next words are soft and teasing. Suguru responds in kind. Satoru's eyes flutter closed, the rest of your quiet conversation becoming hazy background noise as it lulls him to sleep.
Surrounded by warmth – a very human warmth that Satoru's been chasing for years – he can't help curling up like a cat, breathing soft and even as your rumbling voices pass over his head. Yours is deeper than Suguru's smooth, easy cadence, something of your musical talents emerging in the depths of your voice. It makes it easy for his subconscious to follow – at least for a while, before they blend into one lilting track.
Dreams come easy to him. How could they not when this pretty fantasy of his has just come true, tucked in the arms of Suguru and his dreamboat of a boyfriend?
Well, it's like Suguru said: can't get rid of him. He's yours, now – no takesies backsies.
Summary: Buck makes a humming noise, rubbing his lips in thought. “I could do it.”
You and Eddie share a look. Eddie is the first to test the waters. “Do what?”
“Give someone a lap dance.”
The one where you're best friends with Buck and Eddie, the three of you are drunk, and the topic of lap dances comes up.
Word Count: 2.4k
Prompt (from @happyhauntt): buddie and reader are hanging out and drinking maybe and maybe they're watching magic mike as a joke or they had a call to a strip club earlier that day and buck asks reader who they think would give a better lapdance, buck or eddie, reader bluescreens and they both give a demonstration.
A/N: This was such a fun write! Thanks for letting me steal your idea, Ollie! You can find their work on AO3 too. :^) Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays everyone!
Warnings: Spice (not smut), drinking, mentions of vomiting
It started with beer.
Well, it started with the boys drinking beer.
You’ve never been a big fan of beer. You’ll occasionally indulge in something on tap at a fancy bar, but other than that, it isn’t your drink. And that cheap shit that Buck buys at the corner store? Absolutely not.
So, it started with the boys drinking beer and you drinking a canned cocktail.
See, Buck may have bad taste, but he has a good heart. He always has a 6-pack of cheap beer in his fridge, but since you started coming over, you notice he always has a 12-pack of ready-to-drink canned cocktails. You know he doesn’t drink them; he buys them for you.
You really don’t drink that much, in terms of both frequency and amount. It takes a singular drink for you to feel a nice buzz, and really, that’s all you need. You’ve never had the desire to get blackout drunk, and more than three drinks gives you a raging headache in the morning.
You were only going to have one, maybe two drinks, just like you usually do.
But then Eddie found the fucking tequila.
“Where’d you even get that?” you giggle. You'd be embarrassed by the sound if you were even a little bit sober. Thankfully, you’re halfway through your second can, and any sense of embarrassment is filled by the warm pool of alcohol in your stomach.
“Maddie made margaritas the night I moved in,” Buck says, raising his beer bottle to his lips.
The boys are both on their third beers, but between the lower alcohol content and their stronger tolerances, they aren’t as drunk as you are. Hopefully, the tequila will even the score.
“Where did she buy it?” Eddie laughs as he inspects the bottle.
It’s cheap: you can tell that much by looking at it. It’s a 1.75 liter plastic bottle — not exactly top shelf. You expected nothing less from Maddie, since she doesn’t strike you as a girl who sips high-end tequila. No, she’s more like the girl who makes way too strong margaritas and bullies her brother into taking shots in the kitchen.
Buck shrugs. “Grocery store, probably.”
Eddie starts looking through the cabinets. “You got a blender?”
Buck snorts. “I have shot glasses.”
“I’m not doing shots,” you laugh. “Tequila shots and I have… a bad relationship.”
Eddie gives you a look. “What type of relationship?”
“Whatever type ends in me throwing up in someone’s sink.”
Buck tips his head back and cackles. “You did that?! You?!”
“I just graduated from the Academy and went out with some classmates to celebrate,” you explain, cheeks flushing as you smile. “It started with bar hopping and ended with tequila shots at someone’s house.”
“Sounds like it actually ended with you throwing up in someone’s sink,” Eddie points out.
“And you’re trying to make it happen again!” You accuse as Eddie continues scouring the kitchen. “Shame on you, Diaz!”
“Hey, it would be nice to see the most professional member of the 118 get a little crazy,” Buck says.
You snort again. “I’m the most professional member of the 118?”
“Professional isn’t the right word,” Eddie says, finally finding a cocktail shaker.
“Formal?” Buck proposes, looking to the other man.
Eddie hums in consideration as he fills the shaker with ice, leaving the tequila on the island. “Classy?”
Buck shakes his head. “No, that’s not it either.”
Eddie sets the shaker, now filled with ice, on the island. He then opens the fridge door and comes back with lime juice. “Proper?”
“Proper,” Buck agrees, leaning his hip on the island. His body is turned towards Eddie, watching him as he pours the ingredients into the shaker.
“Proper,” you echo, your lips wrapping around the word as you say it. “How exactly am I proper?”
“I don’t know,” Buck says after taking another sip. “Just… the way you carry yourself, I guess.”
“How specific.”
Buck flicks a beer cap, previously sitting on the island, at you. You try to catch it, but it slides off the table before you can catch it. You flip him off.
“Not so proper anymore,” Eddie remarks.
The tequila takes you by the hand and leads the three of you into Buck’s living room. You’re on your second margarita on the rocks, courtesy of Edmundo Diaz. The boys decide to take two shots each, back to back, and simply watching them kind of made you sick.
“You are so full of shit!” you yell.
You don’t know much at this moment, other than the fact that you’re completely and entirely drunk. Not wasted, not blackout. You’re in that sweet spot where you’re sober enough to know that you’re being obnoxious but too intoxicated to care. As someone who normally presents as ‘proper’ (apparently), it’s a combination akin to fire and kerosene — absolutely ruthless.
“I am not!” Buck laughs.
Buck claims he’s never had a lap dance, and you don’t believe him for a second.
You’re not entirely sure how you got on this topic. It definitely didn’t start like this, that you’re almost entirely most likely probably sure of. It had something to do with the ‘old partners’ discussion. Or maybe the ‘craziest night out’ swapping of stories. It’s hard to tell — you’ve cycled through several topics tonight, and you’ll be lucky to remember half of them.
“Eddie, do you believe him?”
Eddie chuckles as he raises his hands. “I’m staying out of this one.”
Like you or Buck would let that happen.
“What about you, hotshot?” Buck asks, cocking an eyebrow. “You ever had a lap dance?”
Eddie’s eyes narrow slightly, almost like he’s sizing up Buck. It makes the alcohol in your belly burn a little warmer.
“Once,” Eddie eventually answers.
You turn your head to the side like a curious dog. “Oh?”
“Do tell,” Buck says, leaning forward.
“It was at my shitty excuse of a bachelor party,” Eddie explains, taking a sip of his fourth beer. “One of my friends in Texas insisted. We went out to a strip club, he paid for it, and… that’s it.”
“He paid for it,” you echo. “What a gentleman.”
Sitting in the armchair, Eddie gently kicks your leg on the coffee table. You giggle, pulling both your legs back onto the couch. Buck, at the other end of the couch, puts his feet in your lap.
“You’re being awfully quiet,” he observes. “Have you?”
You snort. “Have I ever had a lap dance?”
“Or given one.”
You press into the nailbed on one of Buck’s toes using your thumb. He yelps and pulls his legs back.
“Half an hour ago, you were calling me ‘proper.’ Now, you’re asking if I’ve given someone a lap dance,” you recall. You turn to Eddie. “Can you believe him?”
“Absolutely not,” Eddie says as he shakes his head. “...Have you, though?”
Buck cackles as you kick Eddie’s leg.
“I’ve never given anyone a lap dance,” you answer loudly. “I almost got one, though.”
Both the boys raise their eyebrows.
“Do you remember that call we went on a few months back? To a male strip club?”
“Yeahhh,” Buck says. At some point, he replaced his beer bottle with the tequila bottle, which he’s now cradling like a baby. “What was that place called? Thirsty?”
“Just Thirst, I think,” Eddie remarks. “The one where a dancer rolled his ankle, right?”
You nod. “One of his buddies offered me a dance for being such a great first responder.”
Buck smiles and takes a swig of the tequila, wincing as it goes down. You nudge his knee, then pull your fingers towards yourself, gesturing for the bottle. Buck’s smile looks a little more cocky, but he hands the bottle over anyways.
“You didn’t accept, huh?”
You sip a little more of the tequila than you should. You can’t help it — it goes down so easily, leaving nothing but fuzzy warmth in its wake. You’ll regret it tomorrow, but for now, you’re basking in it. “Not really my thing.”
“Not even for the story?” Eddie asks.
“You don’t get to be the ‘proper’ one by doing something ‘for the story,’” you counter.
Eddie makes a face of contemplation as he reaches for the bottle. “Fair.”
“You are really hung up on that word,” Buck notes.
“It was… surprising, that’s all,” you chuckle.
Buck makes a humming noise, rubbing his lips in thought. “I could do it.”
You and Eddie share a look. Eddie is the first to test the waters. “Do what?”
“Give someone a lap dance.”
You can feel your face get hot. You swallow the lump that suddenly took residence in your throat.
Meanwhile, Eddie laughs. “You’ve never gotten a lap dance, but you think you can give one?”
Buck shrugs, leaning one elbow on his knee. “Why not? I’ve seen Magic Mike.”
“You’ve seen Magic Mike but never gotten a lap dance,” Eddie continues after taking a swig of liquor. “That makes sense.”
You reach for the bottle, which Eddie grants you. You take a long drink, gulping a few times. Pulling the bottle back, you use your thumb to wipe your bottom lip. “Do your worst, Buckley.”
He turns his head to stare at you. He huffs out a laugh, looking at you the whole time. “What?”
“Let’s see what you’ve got,” you continue, leaning back in the couch. You prop one arm on the back and the other on the armrest, the tequila bottle hitting the end table in the process. “You’ve never given a lap dance, I’ve never gotten one. We’ll pop each other’s cherries.”
You’d never say any of this sober. Shit, you’d never say any of this two drinks in. You’re in so much deeper than that now; between the margs and the sips, you’ve had at least 6 shots. You can practically feel the alcohol in your blood. It’s hot, thick, and wanting.
You're 100% throwing up in Buck's sink tomorrow.
You blink, and Buck is on top of you. His hands press into the back of the couch, holding his weight so he can be face-to-face with you. If the booze in your veins is hot, then his breath on your lips is fucking scalding.
He lifts his hips and brings them back down in a rippling motion: he’s grinding on you. You giggle, high-pitched and shameless. You move your hands to cover your mouth. You can’t wrap your head around the idea that this is actually happening.
Buck sits up straighter in your lap. He’s careful to keep his weight on his knees, which are on either side of your legs. He puffs his chest before rolling his shoulders forward and his ass backwards on your thighs in a fluid motion. You can feel the friction of his pants on your bare legs. You thank your past self for choosing to wear shorts.
He gently takes your wrists, moving your hands from your mouth to his chest. He’s fully clothed, so you’re dragging your hands down his sweater. Still, you can feel the rippling of his muscles under his shirt. You throw your head back in laughter at the sheer ridiculousness of it, but you know the burning in your stomach is no longer entirely thanks to the liquor.
“Not bad,” Eddie critiques from his seat.
You laugh harder.
“What, you can do better?” Buck challenges.
Eddie narrows his eyes again before smirking. He pushes himself out of the chair, shooing Buck away with his hand.
Buck raises his hands in surrender, turning on one knee before flopping on the couch beside you.
“This isn’t happening,” you laugh, shaking your head like you’re trying to wake yourself up from a dream.
You’ve had a crush on both of them since the first time you saw them. How could you not? They are completely and utterly gorgeous men. When you realized how funny and caring they both are, it just sealed the deal. You never, in your wildest imagination, pictured yourself in a situation like this with either of them, let alone both of them.
Not that you’re complaining, of course.
Eddie takes Buck’s place, only he’s towering over you since he’s standing instead of sitting. He puts his hands on your sides, trailing down to your thighs. You shudder under his touch, hoping it isn’t noticeable. The way the corner of his mouth turns up tells you that it’s definitely noticeable.
Eddie’s hands reach your knees, which he loops his fingers under. In a swift motion, he pulls your legs up and presses his body against yours. You yelp in surprise and wrap your legs around his back, somehow pulling him closer.
His hands move to your back, and he picks you up. You yelp again, astonished by the ease he can lift you. You shouldn’t be so shocked, considering his career. When his grasp moves from your back to your ass, though, he’s no longer Firefighter Diaz; he’s Eddie, the man you have a crush on. And the man who’s currently holding your ass.
Eddie turns on his heel and carefully lays you on Buck’s coffee table, which makes you cackle again. Your laughter dies in your throat when Eddie places himself over you again. Your chests are touching, as are your noses.
You look into Eddie’s eyes, and it’s as if you can suddenly read his mind. “Dancers aren’t supposed to kiss the clientele.”
Eddie smiles again. It’s the kind where only one corner of his mouth curls up, and his lips shift to the side. “Good thing I’m not a dancer.”
His lips meet yours, and it’s nothing but heat. He tastes like a mix of cheap beer and tequila, and if you weren’t already, you could get drunk off of it. Your tongues meet and separate like lovers on a dance floor. When you’re out of breath, you wonder if you could suck the air out of his lungs, just to keep you connected to him for a little longer.
Eddie pulls away first, his chest heaving desperately for air.
“You lose,” Buck remarks.
“How did I lose?”
“It was a competition?” you interject.
“It’s called a lap dance,” Buck points out. “That wasn’t in her lap.”
Eddie rolls his eyes fondly. They eventually settle on your mouth. “Eh, I think I won.”
A/N: For @animeomegas. Universe Swap AU! (Tamaki and MHA in the Naruto Universe as a Ninja.)
Warnings: Some slightly rougher content because some people don’t know the difference between gentle dom and sub and I’m salty. This is definitely experienced dom teaching inexperienced sub - like this is their first scene and everything is a bit easier for Tamaki. NSFW. Praise. Subspace.
—£ Warning: Angst To Comfort, Reader Being Insecure, Reader being bullied, Reader Making The Boys Feel Bad, Crying, Bad Language, Fighting, Happy Ending.
Izuku
-He was so confused at first, then in disbelief and angry.
Izuku had worked himself up for mouths to finally ask you out. He’s been hinting at how he feels for you but you never seem to notice. All he could do each day was think about you, how he wanted to hold you in his arms and kiss you. He wanted to show you the world and all it could be.
So, he waited till you both got off of patrol and chased after you.
Hearing your name you turn around to see the green haired man running after you like a crazy man, flying so fast with a red tint on his face. Then to stop and huff in front of you, he laughed nervously.
“Deku? You okay…” you question and tilt your head. He couldn’t get enough of how cute you looked.
“Hmm, just want to tell you something.” He smiled and said it like a known fact. You wait for him to say something while you stand still, just waiting….Until he was just staring at you in silence.
You wave your hands in front of his face and he turned the shade of a tomato for a minute while jumping out of his skin. You were confused, he was acting strange? He hasn’t been this nervous in a while.
“Okay- Well” he takes a deep breath and then pours his heart out in a shout, “I like you- A lot. I have since you first showed me your quirk and flashed that smile. So, I want to ask you out on a date?”
Izuku came up with many scenarios of what could happen when he confessed. Like you laughing at him, rejecting him easily or harshly, even if you hit him! He planned for everything…
Expect to see you glare harshly at him, one that sent a chill down his spin. Your body tensed and your hands gripped on your bag.
“Real fuckin’ funny, deku. What? Did Bakugo set you up to this?” You spit at him. “Never thought you’d be the person to do this, is this for a prank show?” Your chest lets out a deep and angry chuckle.
He stared at you with his face drained and eyes staring wide. Was this his imagination? What are you even talking about. Did he say something wrong, he’s never seen you like this before. Cold and mean.
“Nothing to say?” You click your tongue and huff. “This isn’t a funny joke! It’s-” he watches you tear up and push a finger in his chest, “It’s cruel.”
“What the hell are you taking about?” He has no idea how much your words affect him. His chest was filling up with anger and his brows frown.
“Don’t act like you actually like me! You aren’t the first person to ask me out on a date as a prank! Or hell, even a bet!” You cross your arms and flare your nostrils.
Oh..
His eyes soften and swallow at your now trembling figure, looking so small now and shaking. Like he was a villain to make you feel worthless.
“You think I’m joking?” His hushed tone made you blink away some of the tears and whip them off quickly, nodding your head you bite your lip.
“You can tell whoever that you got me! Get your points or win, I don’t care.” You fix yourself and looked at the ground. You move backwards and turn around to walk away from him.
Izuku watched for a few seconds until he knew he couldn’t have you thinking this was for anyone else but himself. Grabbing your arm he turned you around and into his chest, coming face to face with his.
He had his serious and frustrated face, when he gets passionate. “I want you, I need you in my life. I don’t know who before made you feel like you were just a joke, but they don’t deserve anything. I want a date, a real one with fancy clothes and food.”
Your wide eyes stare in his, looking surprised. Your bodies were so close and he held you so tightly, his body was warm. “Just you and me.” He’s eyes flashed panicked as he looked between your eyes.
He heard your breath hitch and how hesitant you were to trust him. He wanted to know the battle you fought inside your head inside and out, so he could defeat them for you.
“Promise?” That small sparkle of hope made him smile.
“Promise.”
Katsuki
- He’s pissed off, man has no clue what the hell you are talking about. And how you could think he’d do something so stupid?
We all know Katsuki never half asses anything, like anything. If he didn’t want you around you simply wouldn’t. So when Katsuki knew for sure he was ready to be in a relationship, he wasn’t going to let it be half asses. You were going to be his, he would give you everything.
So, he asked you plain out. Invite you out to a restaurant and to walk around your favorite part of the city. He enjoyed how talkative you got when you were happy, so this would be just right for you.
Then you flat out yelled and him.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Being so confused his loud voice rang through the empty park.
You roll your eyes, “You don’t think I know when a trick is played on me?” You ask with a pointed glare. “Look, you aren’t the first.”
Trick? You think he’s joke about this shit?
“Huh?! You think I’d take the time out of my day, but your ass food and do your favorite thing- Just to prank you?” He shouted.
“Don’t flip this on me! I know this is just a joke, ask out the “weird” person right? They must be so easy? Is that it? Want to seem so much better then everyone.”
Then he was completely enraged. He couldn’t help the blood pumping through his body as he gripped his fists.
“How fuckin’ dare you.” He stepped closer. “You think that low of me?” You matched his glare and stood your ground.
“I didn’t think you were the person to do it. But here you are.”
“Oh?” His tone growled out and tilted his head. His dark smirk sent chills down your spine. “And who are you to tell me what I feel like?”
You felt your self becoming sick and you tried not to let it get to you. But this wasn’t how you thought your relationship would go, him turning out like everyone else.
“I know that everyone always likes to pull this shit on me! Ask me out, not show or laugh in my face! Who set you up to this Huh?”
Clicking his tongue he turned away from you, “You’re so stupid.”
“No. I am just know when I am being tricked.” He looked back at you with a daring smile.
“Oh yeah?” He laughed and crosses his arms like this was so funny. Making you break.
“This isn’t a joke! And it’s not funny.” You stomp your foot and started to get so overwhelmed and tear up. How could he be so cruel? Why does everyone do this.
He yanked your hands and pushed you to the nearest bench, you protested and squirmed but he was stronger then you. “Sit still!” He demanded as his hands pressed down on your shoulders.
You sink down and just do as he says to make this situation go faster. “You listen, got it?” He stared at you seriously. You take a minute and nod your head, his sigh made you sink farther down.
“This wasn’t a joke. I first noticed how beautiful you were when you feel asleep on my shoulder after training. I like when your cheeks puff out when you eat, or that crinkle in your nose. I like how you look around if anyone notices when you fail in training. I like it when you call me “Suki” and how it makes me feel.” His cheeks heated up at admitting theses things but it was all true.
“I wouldn’t ask you out as a joke, and you thinking that is fucked up. I don’t deal with stupid people. Tell me,” he pulled out his phone and clicked around a few and then shoved the bright screen in your face. A picture of you asleep on his shoulder with drool on his shoulder and him looking so calm. “Would I let anyone do that? No, only you.”
You could feel your heart beat up and lungs losing air. Your head ran with thoughts as you looked at him. He was serious? And you just said all those horrible things to him.
“You mean- You actually like me?” Your voice and question made him laugh and shove his phone back in his pocket.
“Maybe I do hang out with stupid people.” Okay, you deserve that honestly.
You take a breath and cover your face. “Shit.” You groan and lean back without looking at him. How could you look at him again, maybe you just wouldn’t for the rest of your life.
“M’sorry.” The word muffled in your hands and he looked down at you. He loves how embarrassed you looked, hiding your face from him. But he didn’t want you to overthink anything.
His hands wrap around your wrist and pull them away from your face. You didn’t look at him at all still but he just leaned down closer, “Look at me.” His demand was soft and quiet, so unlike him. When he found your eyes again he felt himself at ease.
“I’ll bellow up those fuckers that pulled that shit on you. I don’t have time to play games. So, go on a date with me and have a good time.” There was that voice again. His loud voice to cover his emotions.
“If you’ll have me.” Your eyes looked so soft and sad. Like he would still rejected you.
“Be waiting for you. And i wouldn’t want anyone else.”
Kirishima
- Completely taken aback. He was frozen and confused, then sad and angry. His heart was broken.
Kirishima was a man, and a good man. He kicked himself for months because he wanted to ask you out but didn’t want to ruin anything. You were just so sweet and beautiful, his heart flattered when he saw you smile.
Of course he wanted to ask you out! So, he worked up himself like izuku and made sure to be on top of his game. He would style his hair, clean up after a long day and check himself out in the mirror. He had to look best for you, like a man!
He waited until you got done with your work and headed home to ask you for a date. He was waiting for you by the door with a huge but nervous smile. His chest was filling up with butterflies,
“Y/n! Over here.” He waves you down. You looked at him and smile as you march towards him. Your regular clothes looking amazing on you, he could tell the day was rough for you but you still looked as beautiful as aways.
“Hello, good work today kiri!” Your praise made him blush harder and scratch his neck. His ego growing. “Need to teach me some of your moves.”
Okay, he needs to cool himself down. You are just too cute and pretty, he finally had you alone and ready to ask you out.
“Actually, um.” He looked at you with a wide mouth before clearing his throat. “I was going to get some food, maybe I can tell you there?”
You thought about it for a minute. You have gotten food before with him so it’s not weird. So you nod. “Sure!”
“Actually, I had something else planned.” You watch him blink, he watches you tilt your head. “I wanted to ask out on a date. Right now, to any restaurant you want of course.”
Your body tenses and hand comes to clinch your chest, looking around for the hidden camera. His smile seemed real but you knew the truth, this was a cruel prank.
“Not funny kiri.” Your voice sounded different as you got angry. You turn your head and cross your arms, “Think this is funny? What kind of a friend are you!” You shout making him sink back.
He was now frozen with his face white and smile gone. He stared at you confused and unknowing what to say.
“I’m sorry..But, what are you talking about?” You only huff at his words and puff your cheeks and chest out.
“Don’t play dumb! I know what this is,” you turn around and look for someone, “He got me! Really funny.”
Kiri stepped closer and looked to where you looked, “Y/n, it’s just you and me here.”
“Oh, so you just wanted to see for yourself what i would do? Because asking me out is so fucking funny. Well,” you hit his chest. “It’s not!”
Your words and hands feel like knives. You have never seemed so loud and broken before or yelled at him before. He wanted to tear up with you.
“I don’t think it’s funny, what are you talking about?” His hands covered the yours that rested on his chest. “Did I say something wrong?”
You tear up fully and start to cry, “I know kiri, no use of hiding it. I know this is just some stupid prank to get me to feel bad about myself and you won! Just like all the others.” You try to pull away from him but his body moves on its own and keeps you from moving.
His blood starts to rise and his teeth start to show. You think this is a prank, that he was just doing this to make you cry? And what others? Oh, this was making him pissed.
“Who did it? I’ll talk to them, that’s so unmanly! Hurting someone like that?” He leans down to you, “Let alone you…that’s the most cruel thing I have heard.”
You blink up at him, your arms struggling to pull back come to a stop. “What do you mean? You did it to.” Your voice broke and didn’t sound as angry but disappointed.
“I would never. I’m not joking y/n, I want to take you out on a date. Even more now to show you that you can be loved, like I do! Please give me a chance, you are the only person I think about!” He backs away from you and bows his head to plead.
“Let me take you out on this one date and if you don’t like it, then I can deal with it! A man has to step up. I wanna go out with you so bad!”
You stare down at him in shock at his outburst as he begs you…no one has done that before. Kiri didn’t seem like the type of guy to ever joke about this..But why would he want you?
Sighing you look away, heat coming to your cheeks. He asked you out and you just made a scene. “You mean it?”
His head shot like a dog and nodded his head quickly, “It will be the best date you ever had! I’ll even buy you dessert.” He poked out his chest with pride and now a smile to convince you.
“Fine! But if you think-” your eyes wide and throat close up as he smashes his lips onto yours. You feel yourself growing weak and unable to move.
He pulls away quickly with a blush at his cheeks, “I am serious, did that prove something?”
“P-Point proven.” He smirks at his victory and takes you by the hand to show you a wonderful night.
Tamaki
-He’s so stressed and sad, he’s confused. This one might hurt.
Tamaki gets embarrassed so easily but when he is around you something just happens to him. He’s so fluster and can’t look at you but at the same time he’s calm and needs your company. Tamaki finds himself thinking about you and your smile, how soft you look to hold. But why would you want someone like him? Someone who hides and stutters all the time.
Until he was forced to ask you out by Mirio. If he didn’t tell you then mirio would have to tell you himself. And Tamaki almost fainted on the spot. How could he face you?
So he went to your office, stuttering already and panicked. When he knocked on your door he hoped you wouldn’t be there.
“Hello,” you greet the person with a smile that only brightens when you realize it was him, “Tamaki, come in.” You open the door for him and he walks In quickly.
Your office was just like you. He loved how you made this place just as your own, it made him feel safe.
“What’s up? Need another pair of hands on a mission?” You walk back to your desk and near your gear that you needed to take off. He cleared his throat.
“N-no, actually, I have something to say.” You turn to look at his tense frame. “Oh?” Then he turned his face around and took a deep breath.
“Mirio helped me with this. Close your eyes and say what’s one your heart. Um- Okay, okay.” He whispers to himself and tightens his fists. You arch a brow and watch him curiously.
He takes a deep breath then begins to stutter and trip over his words, “W-Wanna take you out- On a date.” His voice breaks loudly. “I hope I did it right..” I wishes to himself breathy and panting.
You stare at the back of his head and place your hands on your desk..Mirio must have set him up to this. Must have felt pity for you, or to do this as a joke.
“I can’t believe you both- I’m not a bet or a joke.” He jumps out of his skin at your shouting voice. His head runs quickly at what he must have said to make you yell at him.
“This isn’t- Oh no, not how I want this to go.” He closes his eyes and shakes a bit.
“Oh? Wanted me to say yes so you guys can laugh? Or, what? Get brownie points for asking me out? Out of pity!” There you go shouting again.
Tamaki has never heard you yell like this, unless it’s a villain…is he a villain? No, he can’t be. But his ears heat up and he sinks into his clothes.
“No…I just wanted to go out with you.” He spoke louder but still hesitant in himself. He stayed still for your next words but they never come.
Only a sniffle.
You lean down on your desk and sob while trying to stay quiet. You thought that Mirio and tamaki were your friends, and would never hurt you.
He turned his head around and something twisted in his stomach to make him feel sick. Seeing you with tears rolling down your face and sink into your own skin like him, made him feel horrible.
“I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he walked toward. You grip on the desk and let out a soft chuckle, “That’s what happens when you pull a prank on someone.”
It clicked in his brain finally that you thought he wasn’t serious. Like he just treating you less and as a joke. It was harsh to think of him like that.
“Y/n..” he walks closer to you as you stiffen the closer he got, you sob harder.
“I get it, you can tell miriro you got me.”
“Y/n.” He said clear and without a stutter, his face and body now on the side of you. “I am in love with you.” Your breath hitched and he hears it.
“You make me wanna be brave. I can’t help but get flustered and shy around you because- Well because you’re so pretty and nice. But I want to take you out..” he leans closer as you look up at him. “I want..” he trails of and glances into your eyes with matching tears curl up in his eyes.
“I want you.”
You take a deep breath and stand up straight. You feel heat raise up in your body of embarrassment, “M’sorry.” You sob again and throw your arms around his shoulders and pull him closer.
And he’s back to being a melted mess as you hold him close. He blushes and softly wraps his arms around you and pats your back lightly. “D-Does this mean you’ll go on a date with me?”
You chuckle and pull away from him and whip off your own tears as his hands stay on your hips. “If you don’t hate me.” You nod and sniffle one more time. He smiles,
with my hands around your throat (top male reader, nsfw)
tags: sub!sukuna, soft dom!reader. can be read as cock or strap. brat taming, choking, begging, hair-pulling, belly bulge, heavy praise kink, pet names (good boy, sweetheart), porn with feelings, this turned out way more intimate than i intended it to be
His back arched away from your chest as you slowly pushed your cock inside him, stretching him wide open. You could feel his every ragged breath from the hand you wrapped around his throat, silent for once, and you knew he was eager.
“Good fuckin’ boy, Sukuna,” you muttered lowly into his ear.
You barely heard the warning growl. He turned his head abruptly, teeth snapping together in an attempt to bite as you jerked away, barking out a startled laugh.
“Aw, that was cute.” And as though the bite wouldn’t have torn flesh, wouldn’t have scarred your face for life, you smiled down at his scowling face like it was a pretty thing.
“I am not your pet,” Sukuna snarled, and he sounded angry, something akin to a wounded animal. You hummed non-committedly, continuing to push until you were snugly seated inside him. “Fuck—the n-next time you call me that, I will bite something more than your face.”
“How tempting.” Despite his threats, his legs were trembling with effort to hold himself up, and he pressed his throat into the cup of your hand, willingly submitting to your touch. You squeezed lightly, just enough to press into his windpipe, and watched as all four of his eyes rolled to the back of his head.
It was funny, really, how he was using violence to disguise what a whore he really was. You counted to five before you let go.
Apparently, you stopped too early for his liking. He was panting, his glare wet with tears, biting down a moan with bared teeth as the fat tip of your cock caught on his rim before easing in again. You were moving at a lumbering pace, deep and hard inside him but too fucking slow and rubbing at all the wrong places.
He was growing frustrated by the second, and he finally barked, “Get on with it or I’ll kill you! Do you want to fuck me or not?”
“I am fucking you, Sukuna.”
“Not like this! Fuck—fuck you!” he half-hissed, half-whined, nails digging into the soft mattress. ‘More’ and ‘faster’ were on the tip of his tongue, but he took pride in his title of the King of Curses, and naturally his ego kept his mouth sealed shut. “Do really think I will hesitate to kill you just because I let you inside me? Are you that much of a fool?”
“Nah,” you replied nonchalantly, rolling your hips inside him to jolt out a startled moan. “You can kill me, but I don’t feel like catering to you today.”
His words exploded into a string of expletives as he slammed his hips against you, shuddering as it only dug deeper, missing his sweet spot by far.
Sukuna wanted to scream.
Hand sliding up from his throat to firmly seize his jaw, you turned his face to meet you. “D’you need a reminder, sweetheart?” Your fingers dug into his cheek, taking extra precaution in making sure he wouldn't suddenly rear up and bite you.
You needn’t have worried, though. He was way too desperate to care about the pet name or comprehend your question at that point, and he bucked his hips impatiently against yours, letting out a displeased growl. “What? J-just fucking fuck me already, brat.”
You ignored him, continuing to move into him at a languid pace. “If I just give you the reward every time you ask, you’ll turn spoiled. How about you show me that you’ve earned it first, mm?”
“What,” he lets out a shudder, breath bordering on a sob because why couldn’t you just give him what he wanted? He was so good for you, all patient despite his arousal, waiting for you to take him like you had promised, and yet you were being so mean and unfair to him. “What do you fucking want from me? You are just—fuuuckk, you are just human—so fucking weak, comparable to an insect! What makes you think you have the right to demand that of me? I am your king.”
He wanted to rip that smirk right off your face, punch your pretty face in. Dine in your blood. You didn’t deserve him.
“I don’t have any right, I know,” you agreed, “but you aren’t entitled to everything, either.”
“Your ways of insinuation are pathetic—”
It hit him then, like a thunderbolt splitting the earth apart, and he gave a violent shudder.
The past twenty minutes had not been for nothing. You weren’t just toying around with him. You wanted him to see him crumble from his want for you. You wanted to hear him beg for it.
“No,” he gasped, shaking his head wildly. “No, fuck you. I am not going to beg.”
You felt a sadistic smile creep onto your face. Seeing him deviating from his usual cocky self, now a babbling, incoherent mess, gave you a strange sort of pleasure. “I didn’t ask you to beg, though, did I? But now that you mention it…”
You wanted to break him.
Not that he wasn’t breaking already.
Sukuna was trembling with the effort of not giving in, sharp teeth digging into his bottom lip so hard it tore through skin. Blood trickled down one side of his chin, and you wanted to lick it up.
“I am your king,” he repeated, a tremor in his voice betraying his want. “You offer to me. I do not beg.”
“Well, king, you’re holding up all the fun,” you taunted, voice sickly sweet. “Don’t you wanna be a good boy for me?”
He shook his head again, this time with less force. Tears were welling up in his eyes again, and he didn’t even bother to blink them away, too occupied otherwise. They dotted on his lashes, threatening to spill. Where were his promises of ‘biting something more than your face’? What a little liar.
“I’ll make you feel so good you’ll be feeling it for days,” you purred into his ear, “in exchange for one word. That’s all I’m asking for. You can do that, can’t you, sweetheart?”
You watched in triumph as his eyebrows furrowed, as though carefully contemplating his answer. It was far too generous of an offer—he would be a fool to refuse. You made sure he knew that. Just one more little push, and he would topple over the edge and become putty in your hands. One more push.
Kissing your way down his spine to plaster yourself to his back, you reached a hand down his abdomen with your free hand, pressing into it where your cock rested within him. It was too much, and you knew it. You were heavy and thick inside him, filling up every inch of his tummy, and he hadn’t stopped clenching around your girth since the first time you pushed it in. Then you moved your hand, feeling him up until you found the thing you were looking for.
You heard his breath hitch.
Beneath your fingers was an obscene swelling high up in his abdomen, protruding from the hard lines of his stomach. A bulge that made for clear evidence that his insides were carving out a space for you. You should have known there was no way it would fit so innately. No matter how disagreeable his personality was, his body was so good for you, as always.
You gave the bulge a little squeeze, and Sukuna let out a choked whine, mouth gaping as though trying to form words.
You pressed yourself to his back, kissing his shoulder. “What is it?”
He shook his head, continuing to whine softly, no longer as petulant as he was desperate. You were almost afraid you had broken him.
You decided to take one more step. Flattening your palm on the bulge, you carefully pressed it back into his stomach. “What do you want, Sukuna?” you whispered. “I’ll give you everything you want.”
He tipped his head back to glare at you with the corner of his eye, tears rolling down his cheeks. “Give me more,” he gritted out, helpless. “Please.”
Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?
Without warning, you pulled back and rammed yourself into him in one go, angling your hips to pound right into his sweet spot, making him cry out in surprise. “W-wait, wait, ahh!” he screamed, the hand on his neck forcing him to stay in place. “Slow down, ‘s too much—”
You continued to slam your hips against him, hitting his prostate with every sharp thrust, drinking in his whines and complaints and ignoring all of them. “You’re so good, so fuckin’ good, Sukuna.”
He whined loudly in response, hands grasping for purchase on the sheets as you railed him into oblivion. “Not good, no,” he sobbed, shaking his head, his protests falling on deaf ears. “Bastard, slow down…”
You let go of his throat to grab the back of his neck, shoving his face roughly into the mattress as he cried out. “Fuck, how do you feel so good?” you muttered mindlessly, taking more rapture in looking at his pleasure-addled expression (eyes squeezed shut, drooling onto the bed, moaning loud and clearly in ecstasy) than the fact that you were inside him. “I could do this all day long, y’know?”
The tip of his erection grazed against the sheets with every thrust, and he wanted nothing more than to grab it and jerk off to your pace, but you kept his hands so busy, either trying to knock off his balance or brutally pound his entire body into the bed.
“Ah, ah, sh-shut up! Keep talking and—I’ll twist your head off!” he threatened with a whine, desperate, but you continued to talk, embarrassing him further.
“Look at you,” you cooed, “you were making a fuss earlier, and look at you now, taking me so well. Fuck. You look like you’re made for this, Sukuna. Made for taking my cock.”
He seized up at that, hole clenching around your girth obscenely, making your pace stutter.
“What was that?” you laughed. “Was that a turn on? You’re too cute, really.”
Sukuna tried to morph his face into a look of disgust, but all he succeeded in doing was have his eyebrows pinched up in a look that resembled pure bliss more than anything. At some point he gave up struggling, arms going slack as he allowed you to pull him back against your cock by the hips, fucking him onto your lap as lewd ‘ah, ah, ah’s escaped his lips.
You were pounding into him like an animal, treating him like one, and yet your pathetic, ingratiating words never failed to make his heart cramp up with a strange sensation, heat spreading from his face to the tips of his ears and down his chest, painting him a pretty red.
You were just another lowly human, he reminded himself, someone to fuck and forget, but at the moment Sukuna found himself wishing to get lost in the stars that erupted around the edges of his vision every time you hit his prostate, found himself wanting a second time, even if the first hadn’t ended yet. You drove him insane, and he loathed how good it made him feel.
“Brat,” he heard his own voice, wrecked by how much noise he had been making, and you leaned forward to kiss his spine, letting him know you heard him.
“What?” you murmured as he didn’t continue, slowing down your thrusts. “D’you need something? Does it hurt?” He bristled at how tender your words were, how you acted like you cared about a bloodthirsty curse like him.
“Did I give you permission to stop?” He pushed his hips back against you with a growl, forcing you to pick up your pace. “Just wanta let you know—after this. You’ve got—hnngh, ahh, fuuuck! Nowhere to run. So don’t even think about i-it.”
You blinked, equal parts amused and perplexed by his sudden threat. You dared not stop, though, even as he started to pant and whine heavily into the mattress, body shuddering with the gradual approach of an orgasm. “I’m not going to run from you, Sukuna. Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Why would you run, when he was right under you, pliant and wanting for you to satisfy him? Did he not understand how much you’ve yearned for this?
“Good choice,” he moaned, “don’t you dare fucking stop until you make me cum.”
You sped up your thrusts, snaking a hand back onto his neck and up to fist into his hair, wrenching his head up to smother him with a filthy kiss. It was rough, and more teeth than tongue, and at some point you could taste the sharp tang of blood from the cut in his lip earlier. You lapped it up along with the saliva that trickled down his chin, hearing him let out a needy whine.
“So close, ah—so damn close, please, please, fucking please—” he begged shamelessly between loud moans, stripping himself naked of all dignity as he spent the last of his energy to bend his back into a vile arch, pressing his ass against your crotch as you slammed yourself into his swollen sweet spot in one powerful thrust.
A scream ripped from his throat and he came untouched, staining the bed with white, at the same time clamping down on you so hard you jerked to a sudden stop. You collapsed onto his back, panting loudly as you tried to catch your breath.
“Fuck,” you groaned. “You okay?”
He refused to respond, keeping his face buried in the mattress. You took the opportunity to pull out, hearing him let out a soft whine, cold and aching and suddenly empty.
“Fuck you,” you heard him mutter.
That was good. He was still alive.
You slumped down onto the bed next to him, kissing his shoulder to try and get him to turn, and he raised a shaky hand to flip you off, mumbling something you assumed was a profanity.
Biting down a grin at how utterly adorable he was being, you found yourself overwhelmed by a sudden rush of affection.
“What, are you shy?” you teased. “Don’t be.”
He scoffed, the tips of his ears reddening. “Brat, I am not shy.”
He didn’t have any reason to be shy. Not to you. After all, you had long mapped out every inch of his body, from his prominent features to his most vulnerable. Made him want to bare his throat for you to make him feel good.
But nothing could have prepared you for the way Sukuna slowly flipped himself onto his back, levelling you with a sleepy, half-lidded gaze instead of his usual hard glare, muttering something under his breath. He watched you quietly, placing his hand next to yours on the bed, the position far too intimate for your comfort.
“Hey,” you blurted out, feeling your heart skip a beat. You knew you were risking everything, and that he could kill you in the blink of an eye, but you couldn’t stop the next words from coming out. “You were really good today.”
Good.
Sukuna had been called many things in his life before, but ‘good’ was not one of them. Good men did not dirty their hands with the blood of the innocent for fun. Good men did not sit on a mountain of bones and call themselves a king. Good men did not grow six arms and four eyes and look like monsters, and Sukuna was a monster himself.
There was a long, awkward pause, and his eyes were wide with a look you couldn’t decipher—one of disgust or mockery, maybe, and you were already regretting it. But to your utmost surprise, it started with a light blush dusted high on his cheekbones, before it bloomed into a dark red that spread across his face. The corners of his lips twitched, and then lifted, ever so slightly. He immediately fought to replace it with a scowl, but you had already seen it.
He had smiled. Sukuna had smiled at you. A genuine, almost soft smile, as though he cherished the way you told him he was good, had longed to hear it for centuries of living.
“Quit smiling, brat,” he huffed, but his voice lacked any real venom, more exhausted and content than anything, and made no refusal when you leaned in to kiss him.
Sukuna would later realise that he was neither good nor man, but if you were ever so willing to embrace a curse like him, he supposed he could be good to you, for you.
masterlist! p.s. and here’s to introducing me and my delusions to the jjk fandom… also i feel like my tags r getting a lil repetitive lol
This isn’t unheard of, much less to him. Fans, interviewers—no one can deny his beauty. His charisma, which comes with his easygoing attitude, adds to his popularity, and it all manages to shine through even when he doesn’t need to speak.
If Takami Keigo isn’t fighting villains or saving civilians, he’s improving his image in other ways. Interacting with fans during his paroles, bumping up the charm during interviews—he even models on the side. The camera loves him.
Then again, so do you.
“Thanks for showing up,” he smiles, approaching you immediately at the start of his short break. “It means a lot.”
Your heart flutters as you see him physically relax, and you copy his expression. “Of course.” You hand him a water bottle, which Takami gladly accepts. “You look amazing out there.”
He stops drinking, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as a soft pink dusts his cheeks. “You think so?”
“Oh, please,” you roll your eyes playfully. “Like you don’t already know.”
“Still,” he sips a bit more before twisting the cap back on, “it’s different coming from you.”
The corners of your lips rise, and you lean in teasingly. “I call you handsome and pretty all the time.”
“And I fall for you every time.”
It’s your turn to feel the warmth radiating off your face, that grin forcing itself onto your lips.
You don’t get a chance to come up with a comeback as several people butt in to touch up his hair and makeup. Takami pays them no mind, used to the attention, though his soft gaze remains on you. It’s enough to ease your frustration; they’re just doing their jobs, you know this, but having them all so close to your hero when he finally gets a break is affecting your brain the way nails on a chalkboard affect one’s ears.
He notices because, of course, he does, and everyone stops what they’re doing with the raise of his hand and a charming smile. The Pro Hero steps toward you, leaning forward until only a few inches separate you.
“I’ll see you tonight?” It’s more of a statement than a question, but with golden pools softly gazing into yours, you find yourself nodding. Takami smiles reassuringly. “Until this is over, keep your eyes on me, okay?”
He doesn’t give you a chance to answer, just pecks your temple before heading back to the set. Your focus follows his frame, finding him throwing you a glance over his shoulder with a wink.
You don’t, can’t, look away for the rest of the shoot.
“I’m home.”
The words come out somewhat sluggish as you hear the window close seconds later. You save your page in the book before placing it on the nightstand, dismounting the bed to follow that familiar voice. Its owner meets you halfway, blocking the bedroom entrance with its lean frame and tired eyes.
“Hey, pretty bird,” you smile sympathetically. Like magic, your words make some of his exhaustion disappear. Takami fixes his posture as he greets you back just as quietly and lovingly. You pull him into an embrace, and he slumps once more. “Long day?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he chuckles against your skin.
You pull back to face him. “You were great during the shoot.”
Your hand cradles his cheek, making him croon as your thumb gently rubs his tanned skin. He shifts his head to kiss your palm. “Of course, you’d say that.”
“I mean it,” you pout. The Pro Hero chuckles again at your reaction, pulling you back into the hug and peppering kisses on whatever exposed skin his lips can find. You sigh at his gentle touch. “Want me to prepare a bath for you?”
“You saying I smell bad?” muses your lover. You groan, and he laughs, the rumbling from his chest vibrating against your body. The joyful sound eventually disappears, but you can feel his smile against your skin. “I’d rather just stick with you for now, thanks.”
You hum, your hands soothingly rubbing his back and making his wings puff ever so slightly. The subtle movement has the corners of your lips twitching upwards, though you remain silent for a few extra seconds.
“Anything in particular you wanna do?” you ask, pulling back a bit. The battle between you and the ever-growing smile ends with you losing, and your teasing expression is impossible to misread. “You’ve been working really hard lately. I think you deserve to be spoiled, even just a little bit.”
Your implications have a bright red spreading across the Pro Hero’s face, his wings twitching as he leans in to rest his forehead against yours. You have to refrain from cooing at his bashful expression, feeling lucky and prideful that you’re the only one that can gain a reaction like that from him.
“You’re not even trying to be subtle,” Takami mumbles, brows creasing. You snicker when you notice the tips of his ears matching his face in colour, and he pouts. Your smile only grows while he remains silent for a few more seconds. “C’mon, you know what I want…”
You pull back, eyelids hooded. “I don’t think I do.”
“Don’t make me say it…”
“Say what?” More silence on his end, smugness on yours. You know what he wants–you want it just as much–and you’ll gladly give it to him. The fact that you can get him to squirm for a bit is a little treat for yourself. You cup his face with both hands. “Use your words, handsome.”
You’re cradling him in your hold, your boyfriend whining at your dragging. You can feel the heat radiating from his face, warming your hands as he forces his gaze onto yours.
The next couple of seconds happens in a flash. Takami grabs your wrists, pulling them away from his cheeks and towards him, slamming his lips against yours. You yelp into the kiss, his strong arms wrapping around your torso to keep you in place. Still, you comply with his sudden affection, tangling your fingers into his hair and gaining a soft moan from him.
Your lover breaks the kiss, breathless and even redder than before. “Touch me.”
It’s good enough for you, and you tug him back for more as you lead him to your bed, helping him remove his clothes while his feathers fly out of the way.
Takami’s unbuckling his belt by the time the back of your knees hit the foot of the bed. You pull away from the kiss, hastily throwing the remainder of his clothes away, as well as some of yours, before leading him onto the mattress. With him on his back and you hovering over him in your undergarments, both panting and warm and needy, you resume your makeout session, allowing each other’s hands to touch whatever parts of the other they can grab onto.
You remove your lips from his own to suck on his neck when you feel his cock poking your inner thigh. A quivering whine graces your ears, and the Pro Hero places his hands on your hips.
“Can’t wait any longer,” he says desperately. You stop your actions to look at him, and his eyes plead with you just as, if not more, than his words. “I’ve been good, haven’t I? For all I know, the Commission might want me back out there. Another second of this and I’ll lose it.”
You’re surprised more by his ability to remain coherent than his words. If his touch and gaze are anything to go by, he’s not lying.
Then again, you share those sentiments, and you offer him a sincere expression with a matching apology.
With a final peck to his forehead, you then trail open-mouthed kisses down his chest until you reach one of his nipples, plopping it into your mouth and letting your tongue dance around it. Takami gasps, and it’s more than enough encouragement to tweak at the other bud, matching your mouth’s pace.
“I can’t help myself,” you apologize again after momentarily detaching from your lover. “I promise I’ll start soon. I just want to get a few more noises out of you.”
Because yes, you share those sentiments, but along with them, you carry selfish ones.
You’re back to your ministrations, making him bite his lip and squirm under your touch.
“Please, just get the strap,” he begs, his voice wavering. “I said it, okay? I promise I’ll be good if you just touch me already. Just… please…”
The slight crack at the end convinces you, though you’d have loved to toy with him a bit more.
Pulling back, you wipe a stray tear from his cheekbone. Based on his rapid blinking, he didn’t seem to notice he was crying.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, slowly getting off him. “I’ll get to it. But in the meantime, I’d like you to keep up what I was doing.” you take his wrists, leading his hands to his chest before fully dismounting the bed. You look back at him with a soft expression almost unfitting for the current situation. “You can do that for me, can’t you?”
The Pro Hero nods, and you reach for a box under the bed before placing it on your vanity (courtesy of your loving boyfriend). It doesn’t take you long to find what you’re looking for in it: a crimson, nine-inch dildo with an equally bold harness, as well as some lube.
Taking what you need, you strip yourself of your underwear before strapping the toy on. You approach your lover, who complies with your command and rubs his nipples as he watches you with want. He stops touching himself as his gaze wanders south, the sheer length and girth making him gulp as if he hasn’t had it inside him before.
You chuckle at his reaction, sitting on the mattress. “Come lay your head on my lap, sweetheart.”
Takami perks up at the command, quick to crawl toward your frame and snuggle into the fat of your thighs. He sighs against your skin, practically disregarding the fake cock mere centimetres away from his face. You smile lovingly at him, raking your fingers through his golden locks. From the corner of your eye, you catch him shifting into a curled-up position, bringing his body closer to yours.
“This should work for prep,” he tells you from his spot, turning his head to peer up at you with almost childishly proud eyes. The hand in his hair glides down his neck to his shoulder blades to play with his wings, making him shudder.
“It should,” you agree, dragging your fingertips lightly against the sensitive base. Your boyfriend moans, his cock twitching against your hip. You hand him the bottle of lube, and even in his descent to wonderland, his brows furrow at the object. “And you’ll be taking care of it.”
His face drops as he pouts, an almost silent whimper escaping his throat as he looks at you with pleading eyes. “I thought you said you wanted to treat me?”
“Of course, I do,” you coo, refraining from giving in. “But you know I can’t help how pretty you are when you get needy.” The look he gives you tells you he isn’t convinced, so take your hand from his back to cup his chin. “I promise I won’t hold back once you’re all prepped up for me, okay?”
He stares at you for a bit. “Promise?”
“Absolutely.”
The sincerity in your tone and gaze seems to be enough for Takami as he takes the lube from your grip, removing the cap and oozing a generous amount of liquid onto his fingers. You keep your eyes on his hand, watching intently as it falls past his thighs and cock, a whine slipping through his lips. You can’t see him stretch himself open, though his reactions are more than enough to keep you satisfied. You almost feel selfish; even with this moment being all about him, you’re dragging things on for your own pleasure, not wanting to miss a second of your lover falling apart.
Your greed doesn’t stop there as you catch a glimpse of your phone on the nightstand.
“Mind if I record you?” you ask softly, caressing his cheekbone for good measure. “I just wanna look at you forever.”
The Pro Hero doesn’t stop his ministrations as he gives you the go-ahead, and you gently lift his head to reach for your phone. Giving your thanks, you help him shift positions to kneel before you, his fingers continuing to work their magic on his hole.
With the dildo’s base in one of your hands and the device in the other, you give him a look that tells him everything he needs to know.
Takami opens his mouth wide, allowing you to tap the fake dick’s head on his awaiting tongue before slowly sliding the silicone shaft down his throat. As soon as his lips wrap around the toy, you press record, aiming the camera at your boyfriend’s lewd display.
“Good boy,” you sigh, eyelids drooping as he sets a languid pace bobbing his head. His tongue dances along the underside of the red cock, you notice, and you’re more than sure you’d be a goner had it been your real dick.
Your boyfriend moans around the shaft, making direct eye contact with the lens on your phone as he takes more into his mouth, his gaze sultry yet pathetic. He knows what he’s doing—of course, he does. Though with his photoshoots being at most somewhat sensual, seeing him like this with no one else around makes pride swell in your chest and lust swirl in your lower belly.
Despite your shallow breaths, you’re surprised that your hold on your phone remains stable. Even when Takami’s lips reach the base and his gags to your ears, you don’t miss any of it while recording.
It isn’t until you notice his thighs tense that you end the video.
“I think you’re ready now,” you say, slowly slipping the dildo out of his mouth. The Pro Hero heaves, nodding at your words as tears cascade down his flushed face. You wipe them away, giving him a break as your gaze softens at his beautifully dishevelled appearance. “Just lay on your back, and I’ll take care of the rest. Okay, pretty?”
He quietly moans as he changes his position, opening his legs to allow you to nestle between them. The bottle of lube is back in your hold as you lather the liquid onto your already-wet strap-on. You barely put on a show, but it doesn’t stop your lover from exhaling shakily at the display.
Tossing the bottle elsewhere on the bed, you hit the record button once more before aiming your tip at his rimmed entrance. You shift the camera’s focus to Takami’s face, watching it contort from the invasion while a gasp slips past his swollen lips. With only an inch or two inside him, you wait for him to relax, shushing him while rubbing his thigh soothingly.
It’s only when his heaving subsides that you shift your focus to between the Pro Hero’s legs, his hole stretched open and his cock hard against his abdomen and leaking precum. A grin spreads across your face, and you sink the toy deeper inside him. His whimpers make you bite your lip, holding back your own sounds of pleasure.
Once you bottom out, you zoom in on where your fake dick disappears with your phone, glancing up at your boyfriend only to find him covering his face with his arm. It’s enough to ease the ache of your cheeks from smiling so widely, but you don’t frown, either. Instead, you gently slap his cock—not too hard to cause harm, though it certainly earns you a mix of a moan and a sob.
“Don’t hide from me, baby,” you chastise, lightly rubbing his shaft as an apology. Takami whimpers, hesitantly removing his arm from his face, still red and moist from sweat and tears. Your smile returns, and your hold on his dick leaves as his on his thighs appear. “I wanna see and hear all of you, okay?”
Your boyfriend nods with a gulp. “Yeah.”
“Yeah?” you parrot all too sweetly, raising your brows knowingly at him.
A pause.
Takami mewls. “Yes, Mommy.”
You coo at his pathetic tone, reeling your hips before slamming back in. Your pace is rapid and immediately set; you’ve made him wait long enough.
Taken aback by your force, the Pro Hero tightens his hold on his thighs, digging his nails into his skin as he allows the wanton cries to escape his throat. Even with more tears glossing his vision, he manages to keep his eyes open. The blush on his face spreads to his neck as his body shines with a sheer layer of sweat. The sight alone is dizzying for you, but you’ll be damned if you stop now.
“You take me so well,” you huff with a smile, brows knitted together in concentration. You wonder if he can hear you over the wet pap pap pap of your hips colliding, the lube creating a thin ring at the base of your strap-on. “Practically a–ngh!–natural. If being a hero doesn’t work out, you could… you could make a living off of taking my cock.” Takami whines at the idea as you push at his inner thigh to further spread his legs. You focus on the mess you’ve made and how easily the toy disappears inside him, moaning at the lewd sight. “Would you like that, baby? Be Mommy’s little porn star?” More whimpers from the Number 2 Hero. “Your fans would sell their souls to see you shirtless. Imagine–hah–what they’d do to see you like this.”
He keens with a hiccup, and you grin widely, your body on autopilot as you zoom in on his face. Just as flushed as when you started, Takami’s cheeks shine with the remnants of his tears as they continue to fall, his eyes layered with a mist as they cross ever so slightly. If you look closely, you’re sure to find hearts in his pupils, his glossy and rosy lips twitching upwards as drool seeps down his chin.
You’re right: his fans would do anything just to catch a glimpse of him in this state.
And you get to experience it all for free.
The passing thought gives you more than enough adrenaline to go faster and harder, angling your hips slightly differently to hit the spot that makes him shriek almost girlishly. He’s so perfect; you want to cry. You want to keep fucking him silly, and you want to ride him until your legs lose all feeling. You want to destroy him, mind, body and soul, and you want to press your lips against his while cradling his face.
You want all of him.
“Mommy,” Takami gasps, his hips twitching. “‘M close, so fucking close…” He cuts himself off with a wanton mewl, taking a moment to collect himself despite your brutal attack on his prostate. “Can I—can I cum?”
Hearing someone of such high status, someone every citizen looks at with such high regard, ask for permission with a trembling voice, you feel more powerful than any villain. And with how your cunt clenches at the mere sight of him in his miserable glory, you’re sure you ought to be classified as one, too.
But for now, you’ll show mercy, albeit recorded for his humiliation. “Make a mess for me, baby bird.”
The next few seconds happen in slow motion as you watch Takami’s eyes roll to the back of his head while his jaw falls open. Splatters of creamy white decorate his abdomen and chest, with a couple of drops reaching his chin as he squeezes around the toy. You help him ride his orgasm while making sure to catch every moment on your phone, only ending the video once his body relaxes. Your gaze softens, and you snap a few extra photos. You could make one of them your home screen later.
You shush him as he regulates his breathing, leaning forward to place your phone on the nightstand before brushing some of his hair out of his sweaty face. Once he appears somewhat calmer, you move back to rest your hands on his hips to slide the strap out of him, your lover hissing as you do so. Every step of the way, you whisper sweet nothings to him.
“Such a good boy for me,” you coo after removing the harness. You then lay next to him, and Takami whines, making you smile, tilting his head to face you. Tear stains ghost his cheeks while wet lashes clump together, his plump lips glossy with the spit as his blush fades to a subtle pink hue. He’s beautiful; it’s not fair. “Wait here. I’ll get you cleaned up.”
You make quick work of doing so. Wet cloth, water bottle, whatever you can get your hands on in a short amount of time. And after wiping away the evidence of your activities from the Pro Hero’s handsome face and sculpted build and getting him to drink up, you help him sit to pull him into your embrace.
Takami pouts, tugging at your bra strap. “Still got this on?”
With a roll of your eyes, you remove the last article of clothing from your warm body, and a wolfy grin spreads across his face. He’s back to hugging you, this time burying himself in your chest.
You sigh. “Was I too rough on you?”
Still pressed against you, the Pro Hero shakes his head no. He only slightly pulls back to peer up at you, his expression somewhat more serious.
“Was I a good model for you?” he asks. You can hear the teasing tone in his voice, though there’s an antsiness to his gaze that awaits for your approval. With a soft laugh and a smile to match, you then kiss his head.
Warnings: Smut, boooo hero commission bad, spanking, reader gets a little mean (consensually), sub drop, keigo’s having a bad day & doesn’t cope well with it, mentions & use of sex toys
the door to keigo’s office closed with a firm click. never a proper slam, keigo scared of the repercussions of anyone catching his ‘improper attitude’ and being ‘ungrateful’ for the position he’s in.
you looked up from where you sat in his office chair, and you pushed your file aside as you took him in. “birdie?” keigo fought the urge to beeline to you, and with great restraint, walked over to you and put on one of his charming smiles.
“miss me?” you playfully rolled your eyes at him and stood up. keigo watched as you stretched, the hem of your blouse rising just enough for him to catch a sliver of skin, and he took a step closer to you. you opened your arms for him and squeaked as he lifted you onto his desk. before you could question him, he stepped into your space, draped his wings around you and let his head fall down, forehead resting on top of your head.
you reached up and wrapped your arms around his waist, tugging him closer and you rubbed his back soothingly. “rough day?” a hum was your answer and you frowned.
“need to get out of my head,” hawks whispered to you and you nodded. “tonight? please?”
“of course, birdie. whatever you need,” you promised.
-
keigo couldn’t have been happier to take that first step into your apartment. he was on you the second you shut the door, a lone feather going to lock the door and you gasped at the feeling of your back meeting the wall. his lips were on yours like a man starved, and soon, needy whines and whimpers started to fall from the hero’s lips.
“shhh, i’ve got you pretty boy,” you whispered against keigo’s lips as you parted, your breath fanning against his neck as you began to press open mouth kisses to the delicate skin. “what do you need from me today?”
“rough, need it so bad. wanna be punished, please ma’am,” the title caused you to hesitate briefly, but you shoved your concerns aside. if keigo, if your birdie needed something, you’d deliver.
“go up to bed then. want you stripped and kneeling by the door when i come up. have three items laid out for me, i’ll be up in a minute,” you said and keigo practically flew upstairs to your bedroom. you slid your shoes off, discarding your jacket on the couch as you gave keigo a minute to prep. gave him a little time to get antsy, needy for you. something felt a little off, keigo never outright asking you to be rough with him. you kept your reservations in mind, reminding yourself to look for signs, then walked upstairs to your room.
you opened the door, expecting to be greeted by the pretty sight of your… sub? partner? keigo kneeling by the door, but he was laid out in bed, hand lazily stroking his dick, cocky smile on his lips. beside him laid a vibrating plug, red silk ties, and a crop.
“oh, so we’re being a brat today? dangerous game for someone who’s asking me to be mean to you.” you walked over to keigo and within a second, grabbed his wrists and pinned them above his head. keigo’s eyes dilated slightly before he plastered on his calm composure again.
“guess you’ll have to punish me, hmm?” your eyes narrowed and you leaned down, your nose almost brushing his. keigo looked up at you through lidded eyes and you used your free hand to grab his hair, sharply tugging his hair back, a low moan leaving his lips.
“you have no idea what you’re getting into, babe.” moments later, keigo found himself on his hands and knees, ass up in the air. pillows were propped under his stomach, and keigo rolled his hips against the pillow, wanting more friction on his aching cock. keigo jerked forwards with a surprised yelp as your hand came in contact with his ass, the sharp slap leaving him stinging.
the mattress shifted as you settled yourself into position, and your hand rubbed over the pink spot on his left cheek. keigo yearned to press back into your touch, but he kept himself still. keigo barely processed the absence of your hand before another sharp spank was delivered to the right side.
“shit!”
“mmm, still can’t remember our rules? last i remember, i believe you had to count.”
“make me,” keigo cooed and the harsh slap to his balls had his eyes rolling back as he moaned.
“do me a favor, birdie. go send one of those pretty feathers to grab me that hairbrush on my nightstand.” keigo didn’t react and you dug your nails into his shoulder blades, narrowly missing his sensitive wing bases. “if i have to get up, it’s gonna be so much worse for you.” your voice lowered to a near growl, and he begrudgingly sent a feather to collect the brush. he dropped it carelessly beside you and your eyes narrowed.
“oops,”
“think we’re going to start with fifteen, see if your tune changes then. then i’m gonna put that new ring on you and fuck you absolutely fucking stupid and keep you from cumming until i feel like you deserve it. maybe a day, two?” keigo’s dick twitched in anticipation but he couldn’t get into the mindset he craved. he was thinking, couldn’t stop thinking, and he threw his head back as the first spank hit his sit spot. “brat still can’t count, huh? guess i’ll have to teach you how.” another sharp sting to his left cheek. “one,” you drawled, mockingly, as if you were teaching him.
keigo’s eyes began to well with tears as you swiftly delivered the next few spanks. why couldn’t he get into the scene like he wanted? he didn’t realize you had paused, that tears were sliding down his cheek until he heard you speak.
“yellow.”
“w-what?” keigo’s head snapped back to you and he watched as you repositioned to sit in front of him. “no, no, why’d you stop? i, i’m okay, i’m green.”
“i’m yellow. i’m not comfortable continuing our scene because i know you, baby. you’re too distracted to consent properly. you’ve never taken this long to enter subspace. you’re here, but you’re not here.” a choked sob left keigo’s lips and he doesn’t know who moved first, but he was immediately cradled against you and keigo broke down.
“failing, can’t do anything right. not a good hero, can’t even be good for you. don’t deserve you to be good to me,” keigo rambled through his cries and you stroked his wing with one hand, your other hand gently gripping his chin so he had to look at you.
“you are an amazing hero, keigo. no matter what your handler, the commission, what anyone says. i don’t lie to you, do i?” you asked and keigo shook his head. “then you know i’m not lying now. you’re so good, pretty bird. so good with me, so much better than the commission or anyone deserves.” you pressed a kiss to his forehead, his nose, each cheek, then a long kiss to his lips.
“‘m sorry. for not telling you until it ruined our scene.”
“hey, shh. don’t worry about that. i care about you, yeah? love that we get to do this, that you trust me enough to let me be this person for you.” you brushed a few stray strands of keigo’s hair out of his face, smiling as he leaned into your touch. “now, how about we lay here for a little? clear your head and then, and only if i believe you’re ready and you’re up for it, we have a re-do. but we’re gonna do it a little different than this time.” keigo nodded as he melted into your arms. yeah, a break sounded good.
-
“eight, thank you!” keigo moaned as the crop landed on his ass, heart shaped marks red against his skin. you set the crop down and gently ran your hands over the warm skin, and a low whine escaped keigo’s throat.
“can you tell me why i spanked you, baby boy?” you kissed up keigo’s back and his wings fluffed up from the feeling of your lips and the nickname.
“i tried to punish myself for, for feeling bad instead of talking to you.” keigo said, cheek resting against the bed.
“good boy,” you all but purred and keigo whimpered as his dick throbbed. “don’t worry, pretty bird. gonna take such good care of you, just like you deserve.” you smiled when you noticed the dark blush on keigo’s face and you lightly patted the back of his thigh. “think you can get comfy on your back for me? wanna look at your pretty face while i make love to you.”
make love. make love, love, love, love. the word repeated in keigo’s mind and he couldn’t help the pleased chirp that left his lips. both yours and keigo’s eyes widened at the sound and keigo immediately ducked his face into his hands.
“oh, songbird. love that beautiful noise, can’t wait to draw more out of you.”
and fuck you did. keigo couldn’t control the flow of chirps that left his lips as you thrusted into him with the cherry red dildo, the harness rubbing against your heat and you moaned as you gripped keigo’s thighs, and you smirked when a particularly high whine left him.
“close,” keigo panted and you reached down to pump his cock, continuing your relentless hits to his prostate. “please, please, please can i cum? been so good for you, been your good boy, please let me cum“
“go on, songbird. be my good boy, cum for me.” one last sharp thrust sent keigo over the edge, vision going white, ramblings of curses and chirps leaving his lips as he came. your own movements began to falter as the familiar sounds of your finishing moans sounded throughout the room. keigo whimpered as you slowly pulled out and let out a happy sigh as you all but collapsed beside him. keigo barely reacted as you reached over, grabbing the wipes you kept in your nightstand during scenes. he hissed a little at the cool temperature on his stomach, thighs, and dick, but relaxed as you pulled him into you a moment later.
you whispered praises into his ear, and keigo nuzzled into your neck, pressing thankful kisses against it. you smiled when keigo met your eyes a minute later, golden eyes seeming warmer than usual.
“what’s on your mind, pretty boy?” you asked and keigo leaned in, brushing his lips against yours. you cupped his cheek and returned the kiss happily.
“love you,” keigo whispered against your lips and you felt your own urge to hide your face in his chest. instead?
“love you too, kei.” another kiss. more than you’ll ever know.
warnings: SMUT, fem!reader, lots of cursing, use of a sex toy, a few uses of ‘mommy’, hawks has some birdy traits, they’re so in love ugh
keigo regretted the decision to take you partying with him. not for anything you did, of course. you were… infinitely better than anything he could ever imagine having. and god damn did you look perfect tonight.
it was a heroes exclusive night at his and rumi’s favorite club, and due to your job, you were well-known within the hero community and keigo was able to bring you with him. and keigo swore that was one of the todoroki children- fuyumi?- with rumi tonight.
keigo wasn’t big on partying anymore, you and him both now preferring nights in together more than going out. and god help him, keigo could not wait to take you home tonight. you danced with fuyumi, laughing as the more reserved woman started to warm up. you were infectious- everyone seemed to liven up around you. you brought out the best in people. also brought out the worst thoughts in him.
“down, boy. your birdy instincts are kicking in,” rumi teased and keigo shot a glare at his best friend, who merely laughed. he couldn’t help himself. you looked fantastic. rumi had taken you shopping earlier today and he owed her for the rest of his life for that outfit.
your pants looked as if they had been painted on, the leather material hugging your figure perfectly. your top was barely more than a black lacy bra, and keigo’s personal favorite was the gold chain body harness you wore on top. it outlined your torso and keigo’s gaze kept getting caught by the shimmer. you knew it too, because every time you caught him staring, you’d smirk and continue to dance, each movement of your hips more tempting than the last.
fuyumi made her way to the bar a minute later, you having walked off to the bathroom and fuyumi shyly tucked herself into rumi’s side. he didn’t know how new this… relationship? was so he didn’t tease rumi (yet) and he set the glass down that he had been nursing.
“gonna go find my songbird,” keigo said as a way of dismissing himself, and keigo walked towards the dance floor, searching for you. you spotted him and waved excitedly, quickly weaving your way through the crowds and enveloped him in a tight hug.
“birdie! i missed you,” you peppered keigo’s cheek with kisses and started to travel down towards his jaw. “did you miss me?”
keigo’s hands moved from where they rested on your back to your waist, and be squeezed gently. “always miss you. you know that.” you giggled and keigo nuzzled his nose into your hair. “you look beautiful.”
“baby bird,” you whispered and keigo could practically see the shy smile on your face as you pressed a kiss behind his ear, the smile turning into a smirk when he shivered. “you look so handsome, it’s downright sinful.” you ran one hand down keigo’s chest, hand trailing down until it rested on his stomach. keigo’s grip on you tightened, cheeks reddening from the compliment and affection. he had worn a sheer button down today and he had considered staying home with you when he saw your reaction to the shirt for the first time.
you had begun to pull keigo towards the exit and keigo laughed when he noticed your not so subtle plan. “no goodbyes to rumi or fuyumi?”
“trust me, baby boy. i’ve been talking to fuyumi about you all night. i think they’ll get the memo.” your eyes had darkened and keigo calculated the distance in his head.
“would you kill me if i flew us home?” keigo asked and you leveled him with a look.
“if you don’t get us home the fastest way possible, i’ll make you watch as i fuck myself and go straight to bed after.” with that, keigo scooped you into his arms and was up in the air in mere seconds. the minutes it took him to get home felt like ages and the second he landed on his balcony, you were on him. your lips attached to his and keigo expertly made his way inside, feathers opening and closing doors as he kissed you back. you broke the kiss long enough to start taking his shirt off and keigo whined from the loss.
“want you, need you,” keigo whined and you pressed a quick kiss to his lips to satiate him.
“i got you, baby. i’ll take care of you. that what you want?” you asked and keigo nodded. “go ahead and get comfy. tonight? it’s all up to you, kei.”
keigo laid on his back, sending most of his feathers away. “just want you.” your smile warmed his heart and you made quick work of getting on the bed, straddling keigo.
keigo leaned up and you met him halfway, kissing him happily. you let keigo lead the kiss and you parted your lips, letting out a soft sigh as you and keigo explored each other’s mouths. keigo’s hands played with the hem of your top and you parted just enough for him to pull your top off. the cool air hit your chest, your nipples hardening and keigo’s eyes dilated. he looked at you, down at your chest, then back up again and you nodded.
keigo leaned forward and kissed down your neck, revelling in each noise that fell from your lips. one of your hands made itself at home in his hair, the other tracing up and down his back as he made his way down to your chest. he pressed a kiss to each of your breasts before he took one of your nipples into his mouth, and you threw your head back with a soft moan. your grip in his hair tightened, and keigo hummed against you and you whimpered. keigo’s hand caressed your other breast as he lapped at your nipple, sucking and carefully pulling at the nub with his teeth.
“fuck!” your hips rocked down against keigo’s and keigo moaned against you. he switched breasts, now taking the other nipple in his mouth and you rolled your hips against his slowly starting to harden clothed cock. “birdie, shit,” you whined. you moved your hands, starting to fumble with the button of his jeans.
“easy, dove, let me help.” keigo said once he pulled away and you pouted at the loss of his mouth. you unbuttoned his pants and keigo lifted his hips so you could pull them down and drop them somewhere on the ground. keigo helped you pull your own pants off and you kicked them off to the ground.
“will never get over how pretty you are, keigo,” you brought one of your hands to cup keigo’s cheek, the other hand brushing his wing lightly. keigo’s cheeks burned red and you leaned down to kiss him again, keigo’s back meeting the mattress and you slowly ground down against keigo, drawing out moans from the both of you.
keigo couldn’t keep his hands still, going from your chest down to your ass, and he squeezed firmly. “can i take these off?”
“please,” you whined. moments later, you both had been fully stripped and you knelt between keigo’s legs. you ran your hands up and down keigo’s thighs and looked up at him through your lashes. “what do you want first, pretty boy?”
“mouth, please. just need to feel you,” keigo was close to begging and you nodded, kissing down his stomach. each kiss inched closer and closer to where he wanted you and while you were letting him make choices, you still had the control and keigo loved it.
you licked a stripe up the underside of keigo’s cock and he moaned, one hand gripping the sheets and the other gripping your hair. you lapped at keigo’s tip before taking his length into your mouth, and the soft moan you let out caused keigo’s cock to twitch. you looked up at keigo with half lidded eyes and keigo’s grip on your hair tightened.
“fuck, dove, feels so good. so good to me,” keigo babbled as you bobbed your head up and down, nose hitting his pelvis as you took all of him into your mouth. “shit!” keigo’s hips started to buck as your hand cupped his balls, needy whines slipping from his lips as you lightly twisted your hand. keigo’s eyes rolled back in his head and his back arched off the bed. “close, ‘m close,” keigo panted and you picked up your pace, keigo’s hips bucking and his breaths coming faster. “cumming, shit, mommy!” keigo cried out and his cock twitched once, twice more, before he came down your throat. you swallowed before you pulled back and immediately started to run your hands over keigo’s torso, grounding and checking on him.
“did so good, songbird. my good boy, love you so much,” you praised and keigo reached up to pull you closer to him. you huffed out a laugh and pressed a few chaste kisses to his lips. “you up for more?”
“need it, need more. need you,” keigo said and you nodded.
“tell me how you want me, baby bird. want toys or just me?” you repositioned yourself, moving to sit beside keigo, and you lazily started to pump his cock.
“can- can we try something new?” you nodded. keigo rolled over, reaching to the nightstand and opened the drawer. he pulled out a bottle of lube and a new toy you hadn’t seen yet, some type of plug. “i, uh, want to use this while you ride me.”
keigo looked anywhere but your face and you leaned forward, gently lifting his chin so he looked at you. “of course, kei. get comfy for me, ‘kay?” you kissed keigo, short and sweet, before you broke the kiss. you helped keigo prop up some pillows under his hips, your touches gentle and keigo preened under the attention you were giving him.
you always took such good care of him, it was disorienting. he had slowly gotten used to it, but he still couldn’t believe he was treated so gently by you. so kindly. even when he asked you to be rough with him, he could feel how deeply you cared behind your movements. it was that care that let keigo relax in this moment, legs spread and exposed as you knelt between his legs.
keigo briefly tensed as your lube covered finger prodded at his hole, which turned into a soft moan as you pushed in. keigo whined your name and you rubbed at his hip, soothing him. you worked your finger in slowly, whimpers leaving his lips as he adjusted. “another?”
“please,” keigo nodded and you pulled your finger out, shushing him when he whined, and pushed in a second. you moved a bit faster this time, pumping your fingers at a steady pace and as keigo’s moans got needier, you added a third. you stretched your fingers, pumping faster and you smirked when a high keening cry escaped keigo.
“did i hit something, baby?” you taunted, just barely brushing that bundle of nerves again. keigo’s blushed trailed down his cheeks to his neck, and you barely resisted the urge to litter his neck with more hickeys. you reached over and grabbed the plug, pulling out your fingers and quickly replaced them with the plug. you pushed the curved end of the plug in snugly before you studied the base, curiously switching it on to its lowest level.
“fuck!” keigo’s curse was cut off by a moan, cock twitching as the device buzzed inside him.
“now, we can play this one of two ways.” you grasped the handle of the plug, pushing it deeper and taking pleasure in the way keigo’s hips bucked as he gripped the sheets. “we can see how long you can hold out without cumming. or, i can see how many orgasms i can draw out from you. i think i can get at least two more from you.” you pushed and pulled at the plug’s base, and keigo let out a wanton moan as you held the plug firmly against his prostate. “which do you want, baby boy?”
“the s-second,” keigo panted. “just wanna feel you, please, being so good for you. right, mommy? your good boy?”
“the best there is,” you smiled as you crawled over to keigo, straddling him. one of your hands grasped keigo’s cock, the other splayed out across his chest. you lined up his length with your entrance, and you moaned as you sunk down, the pleasure of the stretch outweighing the sting, and you threw your head back. “fuck, baby, fit me so well. made for your cock, all mine, isn’t it?” you trailed your nails down his chest, your spare hand tweaking one of his nipples and the moan that keigo let out was downright pornographic.
“yours, all yours, only you. just for you,” keigo babbled. you rolled your hips, grinding down against keigo’s pelvis as you bottomed out.
“you’ve ruined me, birdie. no one makes me feel as good as you,” keigo’s eyes dilated from your praise, a possessive clicking noise leaving him. “oh, you liked that. liked hearing how i’m all yours, didn’t you?” you bounced on keigo’s cock, moving steadily, grabbing his wrists and pinning them above his head. the angle caused keigo’s cock to brush against your g-spot, and you continued to fuck yourself on keigo’s cock. “fuck, keigo. absolutely wrecked me,” your movements started getting sloppier and keigo desperately bucked his hips up, trying to get more friction. wanting, needing more of you.
“close!” his movements caused the plug to shift deeper and keigo’s feet dig into the mattress, practically humping the pillows under him.
“that’s it, baby. fill me up, make me yours.” keigo lost the rest of his control and he thrusted his hips up wildly, chasing his own orgasm. his instincts were going wild, your voice echoing through his mind. you were his, his his his. keigo pulled you down by the back of your head, latching onto your neck and sharply biting, and your finishing cry filled the room. keigo barely recognized his own moans as his hips began to falter in their movements, his only thought being of marking you, making you his.
keigo came with a flurry of chirps, warbles, and cries, some of his discarded feathers flying around the room as he came down from his high. you dropped your head against keigo’s shoulder, panting as you pressed open mouthed kisses to his neck.
“can i clean you up, mommy?” keigo looked at you with a hazy gaze and you smiled as you brushed some of his hair back.
“clean me up good and i’ll get you off however you want, baby. want me to turn it off?” you rubbed keigo’s hip and he nodded, shifting so you could access it easier and sighed with relief when the buzzing stopped. “good boy,” you cooed, pressing one more kiss to his lips before you rolled over. you propped yourself up against the headboard, slowly letting your legs spread and smirked at the way keigo’s gaze narrowed in on your cunt. “well? get to it, songbird.”
keigo positioned himself between your legs, holding your hips as he leaned in. keigo looked up at you through half lidded eyes, the sight making you clench around the air, and keigo licked a fat stripe, eyes fluttering shut. you cursed as you grasped his hair, your noises only encouraging keigo and his cock started to twitch in interest again.
keigo lapped at your pussy like he wouldn’t rather be anywhere else, and you whimpered as he nuzzled his nose against your clit. you dug your heels into his back, urging him closer and who was keigo to deny you? keigo nudged your legs open further and you swear you saw stars when keigo plunged his tongue in. keigo moaned deeply against you, the vibrations rattling you to your core and you bucked your hips, whining soft “please, birdie” and “god, love your mouth” as you gripped his hair.
keigo was pussydrunk and he lapped at your cunt like a man starved, suckling and flicking his tongue like he was born for it. your moans and whines egged him on, and you cried out his name when his thumb started to rub your clit.
“kei, fuck! keep, keep going. ‘m close,” your words turned breathy and high pitched moans fell from your lips, and keigo picked up the pace, pushing a finger into you and beginning to pump it quickly. your thighs tightened around his face, holding him in place as your hips bucked wildly, grinding against his mouth as you came with a loud cry. keigo eased his finger out once you stilled, pressing kisses to your inner thigh as you slowly released him.
“come ‘ere, pretty bird,” you gently tugged at the golden locks and keigo happily climbed up, cupping your face in his hands as he kissed you. “love you so much.” you whispered against his lips and keigo whined as he pulled back. a fond smile graced his features, and you could practically see the hearts in his eyes. keigo rolled onto his back and pulled you on top of him, and you curled up, content.
“love you more than anything, dove.” keigo ran his hand up and down your back and you leaned into his touch, much like a cat getting petted. “shower?”
“please, you’re so sweaty.” your voice turned teasing and keigo gasped in mock offense.
“you aren’t exactly the picture of cleanliness either.” keigo kissed your temple before he sat up with a wince. “fuck, plug.” keigo shifted to pull the plug out and set it aside. “now, i believe i was promised another orgasm?” keigo stood, you in his arms and you yelped as you clung to him.
“whatever you want, pretty boy.” you laughed as you rested against his chest. “anything for you.”
I NEED HIM!! it would take convincing, begging even to get him to agree. he's a control freak after all, but assuming you've gotten him sufficiently attached to you, it is possible. if he's fond enough of you, he'll humor you, if only to satiate that burning curiosity that festers when you talk about all the things you want to do to him. something tells me he doesn't often let others touch him, especially not intimately, so he's sensitive. and you can use that. he's both infuriated and taken aback by just how much he likes subbing, and you won't ever get him to admit it so don't bother.
you don't need him to tell you though when he gets that fucked-out look on his face, staring blankly at the ceiling as you make him cum til he's shooting blanks.
if you're looking for a good sub muzan fic rec i highly recommend this fic!! (mind the tags before reading please)
pls if you have any specific thoughts for sub muzan feel free to throw them at me, i am so obsessed with him.
tying puppyboy! satoru up on the bed and making him wear a vibrating cock ring…mouth stuffed full with a pair of your used panties to muffle his never-ending moans, ears twitching, thighs and lower belly soaked in his own cum. casts you THE most pathetic and tear-filled puppy-dog eyes whenever you peep your head in the room to check up on him because he craves your touch and your attention soooo bad <3 and lets out the most pitiful whines as you turn around and leave him again, not before giving him a little giggle and a ‘good boy’ that makes his tail wag as that little bit of praise from you sends him into another orgasm. send tweet
— contents : Virgin bitch Gojo , mentions of boy pussy , virginity loss , jerking off , drunk Gojo for a min , mirror sex , gagging choking , overstim , degrading nd praising
warnings : like choking but nun too srs idk
✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮
Gojo satoru is a MAJOR virgin. I KNOW .. CRAZY.
His fossil ass hadn’t lost his virginity yet, he’s been waiting for “the right person” but nobody seems to catch his eye…
Till yn was introduced.
It was kinda funny when they met uhm Gojo was having silly conversation with Yuji about girlfriends n shi and like…
“So you don’t have a girlfriend? Are you a virgin?”
“Nonono! I’m not a virgin Yuji cmon I’m literally a lady magnet. I used to fuck girls left and right in highschool! I just don’t have a girlfriend right now because nobody really seems to grab my att…-“ He fell quiet when the finest guy to ever fucking exist walked in.
Yujis confused and looks at yn and he’s like “OH YN, you’re here!” He’s so happy to see them. Yn smiled and pulls Yuji into a hug spinning him around.
“Lord, it’s been so long! You still look adorable” He ruffled Yuji’s hair who giggled.
“Oh- by the way, this is my teacher, yn meet Gojo, Gojo meet yn. Old friend” Yuji stepped aside and yn held his hand out and shook Gojo’s.
“Nice to meet you, Gojo” the way his name rolled off his tongue made him bite the inside of his cheek.
“Nice to meet you too..yn..” Gojo smiled sickly.
Yuji grabbed yn’s wrists and pulled him around excited to show him everything he’d learnt. Gojo was bewildered. I mean yn was fucking- jaw dropping handsome!
Gojo was too busy to worry about a girlfriend. He never really thought he’d be jerking off to some fucking guy he met that same day…
Gojo was a very flirty guy, he’s always flirting with women who’d obviously get down on their knees for him if he asked and yet still he finds nothing interesting about them.
He can lie about not being a virgin and have people believe him, but as soon as this hunk, yn, asks him about it, he’s a stuttering mess.
“Hm. So you’re realll experienced mister Satoru~?” Yn tilted his head looking at Gojo’s blindfold who obviously flushed red.
“Y..yes..yes I am!” He cursed himself out in his head for sounding too excited.
“Yeah? what about with a guy..” yn smirked watching Gojo’s lip tremble slightly.
“Uh-h..huh…” Gojo’s mouth was slightly open as he nodded making the other chuckle.
“Okay, I’ll keep that in mind, Satoru.” Yn gently closed Gojo’s mouth before walking off.
Gojo was a sensitive guy when it came to his dick, he’s never been inside anything at all. He was now rutting into his pillow pretending it was yn.
“Ugh..I’m y-your good b..haa…boy..y-yn….” His body shook like crazy when he came on his pillow like never before. He was panting like a dog feeling lazy about cleaning up.
He sat up and looked at the mess he made before sighing and throwing the whole pillow away.
Now he can’t even look at yn’s face at all. Cause he gets reminded of what he did that night, it’s not like he’s guilty or anything he genuinely just might go red..
Well he got closer to yn, always being around each other, doing the same things everyday. It was a routine they both loved.
Gojo grew to genuinely feel attracted to yn, he loved his personality and looks. He’s not scared of homophobia or anything I mean he’s the strongest guy alive, what’s there to be afraid of?
They went out drinking one night and since Gojo is obviously, a light weight, he got drunk pretty fucking fast. He tried to keep up with yn but ended up getting himself fucked up instead.
Yn was dragging Gojo back to his house and lied him on his bed getting him some water.
“Satoru, drink” He sat the white haired male up and handed him the drink.
“N…no it’s too hic h..hot..” He pushed the drink away and tried to take his shirt off but yn stopped him.
“‘Toru- if you’re hot maybe you should take this fucking..blindfold off” yn slid the cloth off Satoru’s head and his eyes widened at this guys eyes…
“Your eyes…” He whispered pushing some hair out of Gojo’s face who blushed looking into yn’s hues.
“They’re gorgeous..” He smiled making Gojo’s insides spin.
“Take my..c-clothes o hic off…” He whined successfully pulling his shirt off leaving him only in his pants. Yn scoffed and grabbed Gojo’s jaw forcing him to look at him.
“Drink…the water.” Yn held the bottle of water up to Gojo’s lips who pulled away and tapped yn’s lips.
“No, you drink..”
‘Tsk’ yn filled his mouth with water and kissed Gojo with tongue allowing the water to go into the others mouth.
Gojo wrapped his arms around yn’s neck and didn’t let go of the kiss. Exploring the guys mouth.
Gojo moaned into the kiss and bit yn’s lip who quickly pulled away.
“Satoru you’re- drunk. No more kissing..just drink the water.”
Gojo again protests but yn forces him to open his mouth and shoves water down his throat getting it everywhere on his body and face.
“Ugh..I’m all wet y-yn…’nd it’s y-your f..fault hic” yn looked away blushing. He flinched when Gojo lied him flat on the bed and straddled him.
There was a big mirror facing the bed and Gojo could see himself. He shuffled before sighing and just knocking out on top of yn.
Next morning he freaks out, stuck in yn’s embrace.
“you good?” yn checked.
“Feel….like shit.” Gojo grumbled trying to hide how red his face was.
“Since you’re sober…wanna fuck?”
Gojo’s beautiful eyes widened.
—
“AGH- UGH MMM!~” Gojo screamed arching his back while watching himself in the mirror get fucked like a slut.
Yn’s hips pounded into Gojo’s ass, the sound of skin slapping skin filled the room along with the sweet smell of sex.
“Gosh…look at you..taking my cock so well~ your virgin boy pussy isn’t complaining about it at all..~” yn smirked devilishly grabbing Gojo’s hair and forcing him to look at himself in the mirror.
“‘s t-too much!~ co-ck sho’ b..big..” he moaned as yn let go of his hair.
“I should put your fuckin’ mouth to work..” yn shoved his fingers into Gojo’s mouth, having him gag and choke on his fingers.
“Goood boy~ you’re my good little whore aren’t you Satoru..?~” Gojo smiled and his eyes rolled back into his head.
“‘m your g-good..boy..! All yourz..~” He screamed and shook violently as he came so hard all over the sheets.
“Hah- first time and you’re already a fucked out mess!” Yn laughed watching Gojo’s face contort at the overstimulation of his prostate still getting abused.
When they finished, Gojo’s body was completely weak. It hurt and he couldn’t even stand up. Good thing he didn’t really need to, yn doing basically everything for him.
He cleaned the male up nicely, tucked him into bed and cuddled.
Gojo is having trouble walking as of lately.
i have a million fics of this man i need him butt booty naked
How about reader comforting his stepson after he broke up with his girlfriend?
Eating him out while comforting and praising him for being such a good boy ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
Eeep!!! Inlove,, MINORS DNI!! Top male reader,, step dad reader,, Ftm stepson!! Eating out,,praise!! Slight dub con??
When your poor step son came home from work crying,,he immediately asked you for his mother!! She was out but you sworr to him to try and help whatever it was!
His long time girlfriend of four years had broken up with the poor thing!! He couldn't even get information about the fight out of him!! Tears spluttered down his face as you cradled his face in your hands!!
He looked down at you and sniffle when you got down on his knees infront of him!! Confusion spreading all over his red face!! His hand moving instinctively down on your head!!
Gasping out when you take off his pants revealing his loose boxers to you!! Whimpering softly as he feels your tongue run up the outline of his pussy!
"What..what are you doing? Mom..she'll" He whispers softly barely able to get his voice out as you seemed to ignore his words,,taking off his boxers to reveal his pussy!!
His hands grip tightly at your hair as you start to eat him out,,his head leaned back against the back of the couch!! His thighs trembling and squeezing around your head!!
His mouth open in a silent maon from hearing your muffled praise through his folds!! Your soft words only adding to his pleasure as he rides desperately against your face!!
