professionally perverted
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@deathscheduled
professionally perverted
—
Masterbuate
oo guys english not my first language thats why my writing suck oooo yes yes
good vibrations!
18+, minors do not interact!
katsuki finds out about his girlfriend's dirty little secret. | wc. 1k
Katsuki Bakugou is good at everything he does, and he knows it. It's a point of pride for him. So when he gets home after a long patrol, he's bewildered when he's met with the sound of keening moans and whimpers. The explosive man is uncharacteristically quiet as he slips his boots off and makes his way towards your shared bedroom. His ears catch a quiet buzzing sound, which grows louder the closer he gets to the room. You've left the door cracked open, allowing him to peer inside, and damn if he isn't glad for that. You're splayed out in the middle of the bed, panties around your ankle, shirt hiked up over your heaving tits, and your hand between your plush thighs, pressing a vibrator to your clit. Katsuki's breath catches in his throat; your chest and abdomen are covered in a layer of shiny sweat, and your breathing is heavy. You've clearly been at this a while.
Katsuki can't help but stand there and watch for a bit, taking note of how your breath changes and how your moans rise in pitch. He knows those moans mean you're close, he's drawn them from your throat hundreds of times. Hell, you'd been making those pretty noises for him just that morning. His vermillion eyes are trained on your thighs, observing how they tremble and clamp down around your hand, trapping your vibrator in place. His mind wanders back to early that morning, when it had been his head trapped between your soft thighs. Katsuki's focus is brought back to the present when you mewl out, "Ohh, fuck, Kats.."
Perfect timing. He stalks into the room, eyes trained on you the whole time. "This what you do when you're alone, sweets?" His voice rumbles, deep and low in his chest. You gasp and sit bolt upright, your eyes flying open as you drop your vibrator onto the bed, still buzzing away.
"Oh my god, Katsuki! You scared the shit out of me!" You yelp out, fixing him with an accusatory glare that absolutely does not match the heat rising to your cheeks. You snatch your vibrator off the bed, fumbling to switch it off and shove it underneath the bed covers. The offending man scoffs as he crawls over you, forcing you to lay back down.
"Scared ya, hm? S'not my fault you were too distracted to hear me come home. Damn near pounded you through the mattress this morning and it still wasn't enough for you?" Katsuki's tone is tense, barely restraining his annoyance. "Am I not enough for ya, dollface? Is that it?" His eyes are fixed on yours, something primal, almost predatory gleaming in them.
"Katsukiiii!" You huff, pushing at his chest. You're still reeling from the embarassment of being caught. "Don't wanna talk about it."
"Aw, now you wanna be shy? Didn't seem to be worried about that when you were moanin' my name with that fuckin' vibrator between your thighs." Katsuki tuts, squeezing your hip. "You were right there, too, huh? 'Bout to cum from that thing?"
You squirm underneath Katsuki, crossing your arms over your chest. You shouldn't be embarassed about it, really. He's your boyfriend, you live together, and have done much worse together in bed. And yet, you can't bring yourself to give him an answer.
"Aw, now you're ignoring me. We'll see how long you can keep that up." The fiery blonde growls, scooting down between your legs. With one hand, he finds your vibrator, while the other pushes your thighs further apart. "Keep 'em open for me."
You brace yourself as Katsuki clicks your vibrator back on, but nothing can prepare you for the sheer force with which he presses the toy to your clit. It makes you jolt, and instinctively, you press your legs shut. With a huff, Katsuki presses your legs back open, his fingertips digging into the malleable flesh. "Gonna have to start tyin' ya down now too? Keep. Them. Open." He presses the vibrator back onto your clit, watching how your hole clenches around nothing. He has to admit, he does like how you react to the toy. Katsuki keeps it on the lowest setting, making you squirm and whine for more.
"Kats, ah, please, need more, s'not enough!"
"First I'm not enough, now your little toy isn't enough. You're damn near insatiable." He laughs, pulling the vibrator away and replacing it with his tongue. Katsuki licks over your clit in long, slow strokes, an incredibly harsh contrast to his usual style. Usually, he eats you out like a man starved, but tonight, he's dragging it out and taking his sweet time. Gently, he nips at your clit, causing you to gasp and buck your hips up into his face. Katsuki grins and pulls away, bringing the vibrator back to your sensitive nub, this time on a higher setting.
"Oh, oh fuck!" You cry out, your hands fisting into the sheets. You're so sensitive from your own ministrations earlier that every touch, every movement, every vibration feels like it's been amplified by one hundred. "Katsuki, please, please, I'm so close!" You keen, bucking your hips up into the toy.
"Oh yeah? Now I'm enough for you?" He grunts, lightly smacking the inside of your thigh.
"Always enough for me, Katsuki! Jus' want you, please!"
"Yeah? Only me?" Katsuki whispers huskily, simultaneously sliding a finger into you and turning your vibrator up yet another level.
"Fuuuck, yes, only you!" You gasp out, clutching at the bedsheets as your orgasm crashes over you as Katsuki slides a second finger in. Your cunt clenches greedily around his digits, convulsing with each wave of your orgasm. Katsuki keeps the vibrator held to your clit and drags his fingers in and out of you, overstimulating you and keeping you from fully coming down from the euphoric high. "Too much, Kats." You whine, batting at his hands.
With a deep chuckle, he shuts the vibrator off and pulls his fingers out of you, opting to pop them into his mouth and suck your essence off of them. "I'm not done with ya yet." He states with a chaste kiss to your inner thigh. "Gotta keep my girl satisfied."
tags: @riotsgrl @sozila @dssstiny @kamislop @multiversejo @Katzukiss @deathscheduled
if you’d like to be tagged in my works, please fill out this taglist form!
if my bf was katsuki i would light my vibrator on fire
maybe even cut all my fingers off who knows
⏾ We're Just Friends…Right?
pairing: eijirou kirishima x reader
series synopsis: You, an overworked and severely underpaid college student, are drowning in stress and student loan debt. Your lifelong best friend, Kirishima, has just the solution for your problems. Well, at least one of them. What could go wrong? You're just friends…right?
chapter synopsis: after a particularly grueling shift, you have a movie night with kirishima! after talking over your day, he has a proposal for you…
minors if you interact i will set the hounds on you. you will be blocked
content: college!au, friends with benefits, long buildup to smut, afab reader, reader is lowkey kind of insecure, reader has a fat crush, talk of masturbation, skin marking/hickeys, kirishima is an eaterrrr, kiri uses pet names, soft sex, fingering, pussy eating, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap in before you tap it friends), creampie, aftercare!!, veryyyy emotionally blurred lines, angst if you squint. wc: 4.6k
author’s note: hi! this is the first chapter to a new series i’ll be writing. this is also the first time i’ve written anything with significant length, please be kind!
series masterlist 🕷️ main masterlist 🕷️ header art credit: @sp1ritb0x 🕷️ dividers credit: @strangergraphics
Nothing is worse than a college waitressing job. Doesn't matter if you're working at a high-end restaurant or a shitty dive bar. Waitresses aren't paid shit and are treated as such. These are your thoughts as you cash out your final table for the night, mentally telling them to go fuck themselves for the $0.83 tip they had left you. You would have preferred it if they had left it blank; even that would be less insulting than eighty-three cents. You set to working on your end-of-shift tasks in a daze, the exhaustion from the day settling itself deep in your bones. The only thing that breaks you out of the haze your shift has put you in is your phone buzzing in your back pocket. You stop rolling silverware to check the notification, a small smile gracing your face as your lips curve into a soft smile. The noises of the restaurant fade into a droning hum in the background as you read the text from your lifelong best friend, Eijirou Kirishima.
"Picked up your fav food and headed over to your place!! Movie night :)" You swear the only punctuation this man uses is exclamation marks. You quickly send back a reply, letting him know you are finishing up sidework and that he should just make himself comfortable as you'd be home in about 30 minutes. You hurry to finish up the rest of your sidework and say goodbye to your coworkers as you shove your cash tips into your purse, telling yourself you'll organize it all tomorrow. Breathing a sigh of relief into the sticky warmth of the night, you climb into your beat-up Corolla and begin your drive home. As streetlights pass overhead, you finally feel excitement beginning to overtake the twisty, negative thoughts that had overtaken your brain during your shift. Before you know it, you're pulling into your parking spot at your apartment complex and heading up the stairs to the small, two-bedroom, one-bathroom flat you shared with your friend, Mina Ashido. As soon as you step into your apartment, you're greeted by the rich, savory smells of teriyaki and fried rice.
"Eiji, I'm home! Where are you?" You call out as you kick your shoes off in the entryway.
"In your room! Your food's getting cold, you better hurry!" The red-haired man responds. When you finally, finally step into your bedroom, you find the burly man sprawled out across your bed on his stomach. The sight is welcoming and familiar; you two have spent countless hours in this room over the last few years, sharing food and commiserating about asshole professors.
"Move over, my feet hurt." You grumble, shoving at Eijirou to make room for yourself and settling in at the head of your bed. He scoots up next to you, handing you your food as he leans into your side. Silently, you pass him the TV remote from your bedside table, too tired to ask him to choose the movie. Your brain felt like it had shriveled up and atrophied inside your skull somewhere within the last two hours of your shift. Kirishima hums as he takes his time scrolling through movies, eventually settling on a classic. "10 Things I Hate About You? Again?" You ask through a mouthful of food. Kirishima almost always chose this movie; you two had probably seen it at least a dozen times just in the last two months.
"Hey man, don't hate. How can you resist Heath Ledger?" The redhead feigns offense. Shrugging in agreement, you settle into Kirishima's side, basking in the warmth and comfort of him your bed. Movie nights with Kirishima always went this way. He brings food over, you two snuggle up and chat while you eat and watch the movie, and you inevitably fall asleep halfway through. "Anyway, how was your shift?" He asks, looking down at you.
"Ugh, my god, it was the worst. I had a twelve-top of frat boys right at the beginning of my shift, and it went downhill from there. All of my tables were rude as fuck, and my last table tipped me eighty-three fucking cents. They physically wrote eighty-three cents on the receipt, and that didn't even round it up. Just a random ass eighty-three cents. Next time, just don't tip at all. And ohmygod I have the same shift tomorrow, and I'm scheduled with my internship at the office all next week, and I have a huge project due Thursday." The words come rushing out of your mouth before you can really even think about it. You haven't even realized how stressed you are until this very moment when it all comes crashing down on you. "Jesus, I barely even have enough time to do this." You groan, sliding down further in your bed.
"Woahh, little lady, that sounds like a whole lot. You makin' time for yourself with all that?" Kirishima furrows his eyebrows, looking down at you.
"Ha, like I have time for that!' You scoff. "I'm so stressed that even thinking about taking time for myself makes me stressed."
"Hmm. That's not healthy, ya know. Maslow's hierarchy and all that." He nudges you with his elbow, trying to pull a smile out of you.
"Fuck Maslow and his pyramid. I bet he never juggled college, student loan debt, a shitty job in a diner, and an internship." You grumble, throwing yourself across his lap. Kirishima grins at this; you always were one for dramatics. He knew that you would work yourself to death if you didn't have somebody there to stop you. Oftentimes, he was that somebody. You'd known each other since the days of playing on the playground, and seen each other through heartbreak (mostly on your end). In all honesty, Kirishima knew you better than you knew yourself. And he could see that you were headed right into a trainwreck of a burnout.
"C'mon, you're smarter than that. You know you gotta take care of yourself," He urges, patting you on the head to get your attention. "Do you have any methods of stress relief? Any at all?"
You pause for a moment to think. You do have one go-to method, but you can't possibly tell your childhood best friend (and crush of many years) what that method is."I mean, like, yeah, but… It's not always effective." You sigh.
"Aw, well, that's a shame, what is it? Maybe I can help you find some new ones to try out!" God bless this man. So clueless, but so desperate to help.
"Eiji, it's private."
"What kind of stress relief would be so private you can't te—oh!" Kirishima's cheeks flush bright red as the implication of your statement settles in. "Well, uh..that's a good method! It's not effective, though?"
"Eijirou, stop talking about me masturbating!" You yell, rolling over to bury your face in your bed covers.
"Sorry! I just want to help however I can!" Kirishima yelps, clearly just as embarrassed by this situation as you are. It's not like you guys had never talked about sex, but never so openly, and definitely never about masturbation.
"Oh my god stoppp!" Your whine is muffled by the blankets. "I really appreciate it, but this is not something you can help me with, Kiri." You can't see him, but you feel him pause. His legs are stiff underneath you, his hand has moved away from your head, hell, he may have even stopped breathing. Bracing yourself, you peek up at him. He has a thoughtful look on his face, one that makes your stomach flutter and your heart twist up around itself. When Kirishima finally speaks, you think your brain has finally been fried from all the stress you're under.
"Well…I could. I mean, only if you wanted me to! But, I could, you know, help with that." He says it so casually, like offering to have sex with your best friend is a normal thing. You shoot up, staring at him with wide, incredulous eyes.
"Kirishima, I'm so serious, you cannot joke like that."
"Come on, you know me. I wouldn't joke about something like that. I'm just saying, if it's stress relief you're needing, I'd rather you find that with me than some guy you don't know. I just wanna make sure you're happy and safe." Kirishima reassures you, reaching out to take your shaking hand in his. Your heart is pounding out of your chest. You've had a crush on Kirishima since you two were kids, but you'd never seen any evidence of those feelings being returned. Sure, he was sweet and a gentleman, but he was like that with everyone, women especially. There was no way you could go through with this. You could ruin years of friendship for what, a little stress relief? Absolutely not. And yet…the selfish part of your brain is screaming at you to say yes. Even if he didn't feel the same way, you could still have him, if only in that blurry place between friendship and love. No, that's not fair, to either of us, you tell yourself. You open your mouth intending to say no, and yet —
"Okay." You barely even recognize your own voice when you finally speak. Did that really just come out of your mouth? What is wrong with you? He's going to think you're so desperate and a freak and—
"Okay? That's it? I mean, really, are you sure?" Kirishima's voice breaks you out of your spiral. That concerned look is back in his eyes as they search your face for any hesitation. He wants you to be absolutely certain of your decision. "You can say no, it's not a big deal at all!" Kirishima's thumb brushes over the top of your hand, grounding you, pulling you back in.
"I'm sure. It makes sense, it's smart. I know you, and I trust you. But what happens if feelings start to get involved?" Your voice wavers at the end of your sentence. You almost hope he doesn't answer. You almost hope your question makes him change his mind. There's no telling how he'll respond, and you don't even know what you want him to say.
Kirishima simply shrugs and gently pulls you into his lap, his hands settling firmly on your hips. "I think we can cross that bridge when we get to it. This is supposed to be stress-relieving, not stress-inducing." You bite your lower lip, taking a moment to think it over. You don't want to worry about this; you don't want to think about feelings. You control every other area of your life down to the minute, can't you just let this one thing be?
"Yeah, okay. That sounds good." You breathe out, letting your body relax as you lean into Kirishima's touch. You always knew he was on the beefy side, but sitting here, right in his lap, he seems larger than life."Eijirou…will you kiss me?" Your voice comes out quieter than you mean it to, but Kirishima doesn't give you any time to ruminate on that, as his lips are on yours the second you finish your sentence. The kiss is soft and tentative at first, as you learn the taste of each other's lips. He kisses you as though he's afraid you'll slip right through his hands if he's too rough. It's not the first time you had kissed each other; Kirishima was your first kiss. But this was the first time it had been anything more than practice for future relationships. You wrap your arms around his strong shoulders, desperate to be closer to him. He gladly pulls you closer, deepening the kiss as he does; his tongue laps at your bottom lip, begging for entrance. You grant it, letting his tongue twist around yours and explore every corner of your mouth. He steals the breath right out of your lungs, making it feel as though you are drowning in him. Your head begins to spin, and you pull back to wrench some oxygen back into your lungs, leaving just centimeters between your lips.
"Hey, you okay?" Kirishima whispers, stroking your cheek with his thumb. The contrast of his rough, calloused hand against the soft, supple skin of your cheek is delicious. Meeting his eyes, you nod, still a bit breathless.
"I need more…please?" You feel completely out of your element, in the best way. All you want is for him to take the lead, a feeling that is completely unfamiliar to you. A small smile graces Kirishima's lips, and as if he has read your mind, he tightens his grip on your hips and flips you on the bed, settling his hips between your thighs.
"I got you, pretty." He murmurs, leaning down to kiss the side of your neck as he slips his warm hands beneath your shirt. You shiver as the heat from his hands blooms across your stomach. The warmth spreads as Kirishima alternates between sucking hickies into the skin of your neck, then lavishing over the marks with his tongue, soothing the sting. You wind your fingers around the hairs at the base of his neck, accidentally pulling at them when Kirishima bites at the juncture between your shoulder and neck. He lets out a deep, gravelly groan that shoots straight to your core and has you squeezing your thighs around his hips. Kirishima chuckles at your reaction and moves to pull your shirt up. "Wanna take this off for me?"
Nodding immediately, you pull your shirt over your head and toss it to the side, followed by your bra. Kirishima is pulling at the waistband of your work pants next, silently asking for permission to tug them off. You quickly unbutton them and lift your hips to allow Kirishima to pull them off. "Wow." Kirishima breathes out, looking over your nearly-naked form. A soft blush creeps up your cheeks at his reaction. It's not like you hadn't been with a guy before, but this was much more intimate than it had been with the others. The warm glow of your bedside lamp and the low murmur of the television playing in the background created such a comfortable, romantic atmosphere that you could almost forget that you and Eijirou were just friends.
You're pulled out of your thoughts by the sensation of sloppy, open-mouthed kisses along your inner thigh. You shiver, and goosebumps rise on your skin as you realize just how close Kirishima is to where you need him most. You're sure your panties are soaked through with your slick, and you're a bit embarrassed by how easily you unravel in Eijirou's hands. He, on the other hand, absolutely loves it. He can't get enough of you, and all he's done is kiss you. You gasp and instinctively squirm when Kirishima presses his nose against your clothed clit, lightly grinding against it and inhaling your scent. "Oh, god, Kiri, you don't have to do that." You murmur, your cheeks burning once again.
"Who said anything about having to? I do this for the love of the game." He grins up at you, playfully nipping at the fat of your inner thigh.
"Well, I know, but like…I just got off a 10-hour shift, I'm sure I'm not like… fresh, you know?" You huff, playing with your hands.
"You know I don't care about that, hun. C'mon, just lemme taste you, please? You smell so fucking good, I jus' wanna taste you." Eijirou pleads, already beginning to slide your thong over your hips. Biting your lip, you nod and lift your hips once more so Kirishima can finally, finally get to your pussy. He, however, decides to take his time with it, placing featherlight kisses across your lower stomach, then your hips and your inner thighs, until you're whining and squirming underneath him, desperate for any sort of friction. Eijirou simply hums and ducks his head down, licking up your slit in what feels like slow motion. Your head falls back into your pillows, a long, drawn-out moan leaving your lips.
"Oh, fuck, Ejirou…" You whine out, carding your fingers through his hair. He takes this as a sign to continue and fully dives in, flicking his tongue over your clit until you're crying out and tugging at his hair, making him moan into your cunt. Looking down at him, you think it's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. His bright red hair, which is usually spiked up, is plastered to his forehead, his pupils are blown, and his lower face is coated in a shining layer of your slick. You take a moment to imprint this image into your mind, committing every detail to memory. You're interrupted by the hulking man tugging your thighs over his shoulders so he can bury his face even deeper into your creamy pussy. He devours you like you're his last meal, all greedy and messy until your thighs are trembling around his ears. It's been so long since you've been touched by another person, and you're so, so close to cumming. "My god, Eijirou, please, I need to…" Your words are barely coherent, sounding more like moans and whimpers than anything else.
"You gonna cum for me, pretty?" Kirishima's voice is low and husky, laced with lust. "Let go, I've got you." One of his thick fingers slips inside you as he speaks, curving up as he works it in and out. You're so lost in the sensation that you don't even notice him grinding against the bed, undoubtedly seeking to ease some of his own tension. He slips a second finger inside you, punctuating it with a harsh suck to your clit, and you're tumbling over the edge, your quaking thighs locking around his head as your hips chase his retreating fingers. Eijirou scatters kisses along your inner thigh as you come down, stroking his thumb along your outer thigh. "How you feelin'? Any less stressed?" He hums cheerfully.
You let out a breathy laugh. "A bit, yeah. How're you feeling?"
"I'm great!" Kirishima brushes you off, but now that you're paying more attention, you notice the subtle grinding of his hips against your mattress.
"Hmm, I think it's your turn now." You hum, tugging his shirt over his head and tossing it to the floor, where your discarded clothing already lay.
"Nah, this is supposed to be about you." Kirishima shakes his head. "Don't worry about me." It's just like him to get you off and tell you he doesn't need anything in return. If he were any more selfless, you might call him a doormat. But no, that wasn't him either. Kirishima took pride in taking care of himself and those he loved. He took pride in being a genuinely good man, and that meant that sometimes, the needs of others came before his own. You weren't about to let that happen, though. At least not tonight.
"Well, it can be about me and still make you feel good." You shrug. Kirishima takes a moment, then hums in assent as he moves from the space between your legs and stands. You watch his deliciously veiny hands as he removes his belt and unzips his jeans, slowly revealing his intimidatingly large bulge. You almost hoped that he was already fully hard; there was no way it would fit if it got any bigger. "Jesus Christ…" you whisper to yourself.
Kirishima simply smirks at your remark and continues his motions, pulling his boxers off with his jeans. His heavy cock slaps against his stomach as it is freed, and you can't help but watch, awestruck. It's so thick and pretty, with prominent veins curving around the shaft, his swollen tip an angry, throbbing red. A drop of precum gleams pearlescent in the low light of your bedroom, and you have to resist the incredibly strong urge to lean forward and lick it off. Kirishima moves back onto the bed, kneeling over you and caging you in with his arms. "Open up." He murmurs, brushing your bottom lip with his thumb. With a coy smile, you part your lips, slipping your tongue out to lick the tip of the offending thumb. "Wider for me." He rasps, sliding his index and middle fingers into your mouth. "Now suck." Intrigued, you follow his instruction, hollowing your cheeks and licking around his thick fingers to the best of your ability. Once he's satisfied, Eijirou pulls his fingers from your mouth and reaches down between your legs, rubbing your clit with his thumb as he slips his fingers into your cunt. He starts slow, dragging his fingers in and out, never breaking pace. His fingers work you open at a torturous pace, until three of his fingers can comfortably glide in and out of your soaked cunt.
"Eiji, pleaseee," you whine, squirming underneath him. His fingers fill you up so nicely, but you want to feel him, all of him.
"Please, what?" Kirishima has the audacity to tease you. In this moment, with his fingers inside of you, he has the gall to tease you. This is so not how friends with benefits act.
"Ugh, come onnn, just fuck me." You huff, your cheeks burning as you avert your eyes, refusing to acknowledge what you had just said.
"Your wish is my command." There's a cheeky grin on his face, which is quickly replaced with an expression of pure as he presses the tip of his fat cock into your warm, welcoming pussy. Your expression matches his, a gasp catching in your throat at the initial burn of the stretch.
"Oh fuck, there's no way that thing is fitting all the way in." You gasp out, but your words don't match your actions. You're grinding your hips against him, clawing at his shoulders, pulling him closer, anything to feel the full weight of him inside of you. Kirishima groans as he slowly eases himself inside of you, maintaining the slow pace for your sake. He desperately wants to slam his cock inside of you, thrust into you with reckless abandon, bury himself in your weeping cunt. But he doesn't. Instead, he slowly drags himself in and out, in and out, pulling whimpers and moans from your swollen, bitten lips. You feel so fucking full already; all rational thought has left your mind, leaving behind only thoughts of Eijirou.
You grab his face to pull him down into a desperate, messy kiss. It's sloppy, your paces not quite matched, your nose bumping his, but neither of you cares. As the kiss intensifies, so do Eijirou's thrusts, until he is holding onto your hips with an iron grip to keep you in place as he pounds into you. At this pace, it isn't long until you're coming undone, your cunt fluttering around him in pulsing waves. You bite down on his lower lip to muffle your moan, which honestly could be classed more as a yell. You're grateful you have him to dampen your sounds, as you can only imagine the comments Mina would be making the next day.
Kirishima groans, gasping out a string of curses. "Sh-shit, babe, you gotta stop doin' that, or I'm gonna lose it."
You whine, your legs trembling with the aftershocks. "Can't, feels too good, Eiji." The burly man simply shakes his head and hauls your legs up over his shoulders, leaning down until your thighs are pressed into your chest, effectively pinning you. He resumes his brutal pace, filling the room with sounds of skin slapping against skin and your dripping, sopping cunt. Sweet words are whispered in your ear as Eijirou talks you through it, rubbing messy circles over your clit, bringing you right back to the edge. He had fucked you right through your last orgasm, and this one was building up much more quickly than the previous ones had.
"Come on, sweets, one more for me." He groans, his pace growing more erratic with each thrust. "Want you to cum with me." He squeezes your thigh with his free hand, continuing to rub at your clit with the other.
"Oh, my God, oh fuck, Kiri, right there, plea—" You cut yourself off with a long, shuddering moan, and find yourself biting down hard onto his shoulder to ground yourself as your orgasm rips through you, white-hot and unforgiving. Your cunt clenches around him once more, and with a prolonged moan, Kirishima follows you over the edge. He presses himself as deep inside you as he can get, sending ropes of hot, sticky cum to coat your inner walls. His whole body tenses up, and he seems to be holding his breath as he eases himself down to lie on top of you. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, which are heaving with the effort of taking in deep, ragged breaths.
"Goddamn." You whisper, trying to still your quivering thighs. Kirishima lets out a breathy chuckle and places a kiss on your collarbone before pulling out of you, causing streams of cum to trickle out of you. "That was… incredible. Should've done that a long time ago." You murmur, playing with the damp strands of hair at the base of Kirishima's neck.
"Mm, very much agreed." Kirishima laughs, rolling himself off of you. He clambers off the bed and slips into your adjoining bathroom, coming back with a warm, damp washcloth. He goes about cleaning you up, gently wiping the cloth along your inner thighs, then carefully over your slit. You whine and squirm away when his fingers brush over your clit, and he whispers out an apology. Your eyes follow him as he pulls his boxers on and flops down on the bed next to you. Feeling a bit self-conscious, you pull the covers over yourself and snuggle into his side. "You feeling any better?" he asks, turning his head to you.
"I am, actually. Thank you, seriously. You're okay?"
Kirishima nods. "Better than ever!" You smile at that and lay your head down on his shoulder. Your anxious thoughts from before are starting to creep back in, and you desperately want to talk about what this actually means. That felt far more intimate than any casual hookup you'd had before, and you don't know what to make of it. Did you feel that way because of how long you've been friends? Or was it just Kirishima's nature? Your thoughts continue to race, but between the warmth of your bed, the weight of Kirishima's body next to yours, and the exhaustion from your day, sleep overtakes you.
When you wake in the morning, Kirishima is gone, but you find a note on your bedside table. It read: "Sorry I had to leave before you woke up! I had plans to go to the gym with Bakugou early this morning, and you looked so peaceful sleeping, I didn't wanna wake you up! Text me :))". You sigh and burrow back under your bed covers. If you don't get out of bed, you won't have to deal with the repercussions of last night. If you don't get out of bed, maybe it doesn't have to be real. You comfort yourself with these thoughts, but your comfort is brief, ripped away from you by the shrill voice of your friend and roommate, Mina.
She barges into your room and leaps onto your bed, landing directly next to you. "Girl! Who was the hottie you had in your bed last night? Sounded like you were getting it gooddd, tell me everything!" She squeals, shaking you by the shoulders. "Oh-em-gee, hickies too?! Spill!!" You groan loudly, covering your face with your hands.
So much for fucking stress relief.
a/n: thank you so so much to @riotsgrl my beloved for beta reading and encouraging me to post my writing in the first place! i love you queen
if you’d like to be tagged in this series, please fill out this taglist form!
kirishima my long term,low commitment,casual situationship king 🫦🫦
hi gorgeous human ur writing has me addicted so i have a nasty idea for u to write <33333 what’s ur take on jealous kiri? he’s obvious mr sweet guy but cmon tell me he wouldn’t get you back for being flirted with 😭 like bakugo is sick of listening to kiri complain about his fling with you so he just flirts with you directly in front of kiri LOL
omg heyy gorgeous! this idea is scrumptious, ty for allowing me to indulge in this. ngl this is a bit long, I got lost in the sauce. kiri's kinda mean in this and reader is a bit of a flirt OOPS!
18+ minors do not interact!
Kirishima is not the type of guy to make a scene when he's jealous, unless you're genuinely in an unsafe situation. He cares deeply about you, even if you guys aren't official yet. For the past month he's been talking Bakugou's ear off about you, telling him how perfect and pretty you are, how you always smell so good, how you make him feel so strong and manly. Fretting over his hair (you know he does this), making sure he looks his best when he knows you'll be at a function; he can't stop thinking about you. Which, unfortunately, means that Bakugou can't stop hearing about you, and he's sick of it. He can't figure out why Eijirou hasn't manned the hell up and asked you out already. So, he hatches a plan.
The next time you all see each other is at a party at Mina's house. When you arrive (fashionably late), the party is raging. Like the good host she is, Mina greets you at the door, giving you a moment to get a lay of the land. Denki and Sero are arguing with each other over beer pong, Ochako and Hagakure are giggling away on the couch, Jirou is in the corner of the living room, no doubt adding music to the queue, and Bakugou and Kirishima are in the kitchen, observing Denki and Sero's argument like exasperated parents. Mina drags you into the kitchen, eager to get a drink in your hand. You follow behind her, laughing at yourself when you almost trip over your heels. While Mina busies herself making you a drink, you saunter over to your favorite redhead and his brooding friend.
"Hey boys!" You chirp, taking a seat on the counter right in between the two burly men. You knew exactly what you were doing. Your mini skirt rode up your thighs, damn near showing your panties. "How's the party going?"
Bakugou answers before Kirishima gets the chance, eyeing you up and down as he does. "Better now." He smirks, nudging you with his elbow. He knows he's acting out of character, but he also knows Kirishima, and that this plan will work.
Kirishima frowns at this. What's Bakugou's deal? He's been talking about you for a month now, has his best friend really not picked up on the fact that he likes you.
You laugh, brushing Bakugou's comment off. You were here for Kirishima's attention, definitely not Katsuki's. "Kiri, how's your night going?"
"Oh, uh, yeah, it's good. I'm glad you were able to make it! You look good." Kirishima stammers a bit, clearly shaken by Bakugou's comment.
"Damn right she does. Who're you all dressed up for, huh?" Bakugou interjects, internally cringing at himself. God, this better fucking work. "All dolled up, and for who?"
Flippantly, you shrug your shoulders. You and Kirishima have a fling, sure, but he hasn't made it official. Who says you can't indulge in some harmless flirting? "Happy to hear the outfit is doing its job." You hum non-commitally, squeezing Bakugou's bicep.
Kirishima watches this interaction with narrowed eyes, wondering what exactly the two of you are playing at. He places a hand on your thigh and lightly squeezes, bringing your attention back to him.
"Hey, I was wondering if I could talk to you about something later? It's kind of imp—" He's cut off by Mina barging in with your drink and pulling you off the counter to lead you into the living room.
You spend the rest of the night mostly with Mina and the other girls, talking about who's hooking up with who and who would be cute together. In a hushed tone, you tell the other girls about Bakugou's flirting, eliciting a chorus of, "Girl, what the hell?". You giggle as you tell them how you flirted back, and Kirishima squeezing your thigh. "Oh yeah, I think he mentioned something about wanting to talk to me tonight? Maybe he'll finally ask me out." You roll your eyes. "It's not like I've been waiting for a month or anything like that."
As the night winds down, you find yourself in Kirishima's lap on the couch, with his hand placed protectively on your waist, and his lips pressed against the shell of your ear. "Wanna tell me what that was about earlier?" His voice is gravelly, even when it's just above a whisper, and it sends shivers up your spine.
"Mm, I dunno what you're talking about." You hum, knowing damn well what he's talking about.
"You sure about that, pretty girl?" He squeezes your waist, giving you one more chance to answer correctly. You simply nod, enjoying the teasing game you're playing.
"Not a clue."
Kirishima nods and stands, nearly dumping you off his lap. You would've fallen had it not been for his arm around your waist holding you up. "I'm gonna take this one home!" He announces, already pulling you towards the door. "Have a good night, guys!"
You call out goodbyes to your friends, who are booing Kirishima for taking you away from the party early.
"They're definitely fucking tonight." Jirou states with a definitive nod.
When you are finally seated in the passenger side of Kirishima's, you know you're in deep shit. And you can't wait to see what happens next. The drive to your apartment is silent, and you take the time to watch Kirishima's face, taking in all the little details. How his brows are set in a deep furrow, how tightly his jaw is clenched, and the uncharacteristic frown that is etched over his lips. You think you even see a vein bulging in his neck. It seems like it's been ages when Kirishima finally pulls up to your apartment. Before you can even comprehend it, Kirishima is pulling you out of your seat and hoisting you into his arms in a bridal carry. You fish your keys out of your purse while Kirishima carries you up to your apartment.
Once inside, Kirishima marches straight to your bedroom and plops you down on your bed. "You think it's funny, flirting with Bakugou right in front of me?" He asks as he carefully pulls your heels off your feet. You shake your head no. "Wanna tell me why you were flirting with him, pretty?" His words are clipped, and his voice rumbles deep in his chest.
"Didn't know flirting wasn't allowed." You bite back, clearly annoyed with how long it has taken him to ask you out. Kirishima chuckles as he crawls over you, caging you in with his arms.
"I think you wanted to make me jealous." He nips at your neck, pulling whines from your lips. "Flirting with Katsuki, touching him, and yet you still end up in my arms at the end of the night." He chuckles. "C'mon baby, tell me I'm right." His hand slips under your skirt, his knuckles pressing against your clit. You whine in response, still not ready to give up your game.
"Still wanna play dumb, hm? That's alright, I can be patient. Just know, you're not getting what you want til' you tell me the truth." Kirishima places a chaste kiss to your cheek, and you know you're in for a delightfully long night.
i'm not quiteee sure how i feel abt this one but i would love to expand on it...
tags: @riotsgrl @sozila @dssstiny @kamislop
if you’d like to be tagged in my works, please fill out this taglist form!
bhoyssss 🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤stop fighting overr meee stohppppp💦💦💦💦
sero’s girlfriend is a bit of a bitch, but he doesn’t really mind.
18+, minors do not interact!
Sero is head over heels in love with his mean ass girlfriend. You're high maintenance and bratty, and your words are sharper than your stiletto-tipped nails. He doesn't mind any of that; in fact, those traits are some of his favorites. His calm, collected, laid-back nature is just what you need to cool the fire that runs in your blood. Sero would never admit it to anyone but you, the way your vicious words and the nasty bite of your tone always send blood rushing straight to his cock. He loves how mean you are, and how pliant you turn when he gives you what you want.
You hate everything in your closet? "Why don't we go shopping? Get you whatever you want."
You need a new necklace? "How much, sweets?"
You need your nails done? "You bet, babe."
Sero reaps all of the benefits of these things. He's in heaven when you trace your nails along the thick shaft of his cock, the sharp tips pulling soft whines from his throat.
"Ohh, fuck yeah, baby, just— just like that." He breathes out, his head thrown back as you cup his balls in your hand, digging your nails in just enough to push pleasure over the edge into delicious pain.
Sero's favorite view is the diamond choker he bought you sitting prettily on your neck, glinting in the low light of the living room. The sparkle of the jewels is accentuated by the movement of your throat as he stuffs his cock in your mouth. "Shit, shit, shit, so—mmph, pretty with my cock in your mouth." He groans, his dick kicking in your throat at the sight of the glossy red stains your lipstick has left on his skin.
His favorite pastime? Obviously, helping you choose new dresses and skirts, watching you model lingerie sets. "Come on, mama, spin around for me, lemme see." Sero drawls, watching you from the dressing room chair. There's a lazy grin stretched across his lips as he watches you spin for him, a pretty smile on your own face.
"You like it, Hanta? Wanna buy it for me? Pretty please?" You plead, leaning forward just enough to give him a spectacular view of the way the lingerie top hugs your tits.
"Shit, baby, you're killin' me." Sero groans, taking a look at his wallet. Nevertheless, you leave the store happy with three shopping bags, stuffed to the brim.
No, Sero doesn't mind your attitude at all. Not when you beg so sweetly for him to just "fuck me already" after what feels like hours of torturous teasing. He takes his time with you, enjoying the sounds of your wanton moans and pleas, holding your hips down as you squirm helplessly beneath him. Your thighs are aching and trembling with the effort it takes to hold them open while Sero absolutely devours your dripping cunt.
Sero eats you out for so long that by the time he finally stuffs his cock in you, you're an incoherent mess, babbling out a string of "thank you, thank you, thank you".
"Aw, now you wanna be nice, huh? Only nice t'me when you're getting what you want." He grunts, punctuating his words with harsh, mean thrusts. You let out a long, simpering whine when he leans his head down and bites your nipple, hard.
"'Se—Sero, 'm sorry! Please please please, gonna cum!" You cry out, scratching angry red lines down his back.
"Shit, yeah, that's it—ah! Cum on my cock, baby." He grunts, pawing at your tits with one hand, rubbing fiercely at your clit with the other. He clenches his jaw, clearly trying to hold back his own release. Your cunt clenches down tight around his cock when you do cum, pulling him along with you, painting your creamy walls with his thick load. He collapses on top of you, peppering your chest with short, sweet kisses.
No, Sero doesn't mind your attitude at all. He fucking lives for it.
tags: @sozila @dssstiny @kamislop @riotsgrl
guys am i late to the party whatagaygshs
this is so GOOOD its allooobverrrr the screennn
heyyyy pooks how’re youuuu
ughhhhhhhhhggh dont have motivation 😢😢😢😢😢😢😢😢😢😢😢 2026 is not my year
shoto probably has a mommy kink🤔🤔🤔 dot dot dot
thinking about a jealous kirshima
mdni 😴
seeing the red riot jealous is like a spotting a rare species of bird.
in his head, his rational brain, where his focus is on honour, manliness, being the best and most loving boyfriend you could ever have, he doesn't need to be jealous.
he thinks it’s stupid. why should he be insecure in your relationship, HE is YOUR boyfriend, so why should he care if you're making polite conversation with, another guy, or one of his friends.
why would he not let you go out with your friends? he's never cared about what you wear, as long as you feel good when you're wearing it, why would it bother him.
because he's yours, and no other guy could ever take that from him—
“-isn't that—nngh, right, sweet thing?”
red riot, the sturdy hero, doesn't get jealous.
but your boyfriend, eijirou kirishima, he has his moments.
“all—fuck—all mine, right.”
he flashes you his signature smile, all pearly whites on display, as he fucks into you like you'll runaway if he doesn't keep you here, on his cock, perfectly satisfied.
that's what his head is telling him, that he has one job as your boyfriend, to give you everything you'd ever need, ever want, lest some other guy swoop in and steal you from him.
“that's it pretty, you like how i'm doing you?”
his stroke game is lethal, hips mean, but his words have never been softer.
“c'monnn princess, i know you— fu-uck, i know you wanna soak my cock, it's okay baby, you can let go f'me.”
and he cradles your head gently like the precious princess you are as he presses your body against the mattress and stuffs you full.
“that's it take it, take it—”
why would he need to be jealous? not when he's-
“—all yours.”
stop it right NEOW 😡😡😡😡😡
“Y/N”
tenya iida soft dom or service sub hmmm oohhh questions questions wonder wonder
i do think some of the mha guys have a daddy kink☹️☹️
you guys wont like it tho
bakugo, sero, dabi, kirishima
“HOT DOG”
a mha college au feat. DENKI K. & HANTA S.
“ladies and gentlemen, introducing, the chocolate starfish, and the hot dog flavoured water…. BRING IT ON!”
mdni
cw: “HELP!! MY BESTFRIEND WANTS ME TO SUCK HIS DICK SO HE CAN RECORD IT AND SEND IT TO HIS SITUATIONSHIP?!”
wc: 2k
starting track….
↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺
…….
“dude, you’re fumbling with the thing—”
“—i’m not, s’literally fine—”
“you’re gonna— you’re gonna smudge the cam— oh my god—”
“shit, i dropped it, hold on….”
“…you’re a fuckin’ mess.”
“me?! i’m the mess??? this was your idea.”
sero snatches his phone back from his bestfriend with a half-scoff half-snort. it was a bad idea asking denki to do this, the guy never takes anything seriously.
not that this is serious.
this, this is the funniest thing of the century.
this, this is him proving how fucking petty he can be.
because you, oh god, you’ve been taking the piss. ignoring his messages, acting like you don’t know him when he sees you in public, posting another guy on your story. really? and the dude wasn’t even all that.
he had to get his lick back, obviously.
but he has to be smart about this.
posting himself with a girl wouldn't do anything other than push you further away, and while he does enjoy your little games. he does actually, sorta-kinda like you.
he needed something, something good, something smart, something to make you jealous, but also hot, bothered, and horny.
how could he pass up an opportunity like this, a gift from above, or below, however you wanna look at it, in the form of denki kaminari.
because you're aware, he told you himself, offhandedly, about how he and denki used to fuck. not heavy, just two bisexual best friends, down on their luck, fried as shit, sometimes denki's dick in his mouth was just the natural progression of things, he can't help that.
but he remembers what you had said in reply.
“that's hot.”
and he was tickled, ego stroked, he prodded you further, because what exactly is the hot part, him, denki, both of them together? and you, in your own words said you wouldn't mind watching.
something about, yaoi, hentai, and something else about heated rivalry, and something else that he wasn't fucking listening to, because he was already filing this away for later.
you wouldn't mind watching.
but you’re not here. in fact, he hasn’t seen you for weeks, he thinks you might be mad at him for something he forgot about.
but just because you're not here doesn't mean he's just gonna fuck his fist, and mope about. not when his roommate is the denki kaminari.
the camera flips around.
they’re in hanta’s room, low blue lighting, nu metal on the speaker, loud enough to mask the noise they’re about to make, but not loud enough to distract from the task at hand.
denki’s leaned against the headboard, face lit by the blue light of his phone, probably scrolling on reels.
because sero was right. denki is not taking this seriously, at all. because this is stupid, you and hanta always fight like this, and he has to hear all about sero’s new ‘get back plan’ every fucking time.
at least this time he gets a good fuck out of it.
“hey princess,” the blonde says when he realises the camera’s facing him now. he throws a lazy peace sign at sero’s phone with a grin.
yeah, he’s gonna get a good fuck out of this.
he can already tell. sero came to him with an ‘idea’ which was just cornering him in the kitchen and pressing his boner into the crease of denki’s ass and murmuring lowly in his ear, asking him to come up to his room and ‘help him out with something’.
if he had known then, that he was about to make a sex tape with his bestfriend, he would've oiled up for the camera.
instead he's shirtless, hair tousled, the corner of his shitty sonic tattoo poking out from under his waistband, and emoting like a dickhead.
just before he can do one last bicep flex, the camera flips back round to sero. eyebrow raised in distaste, the piercing catches the flash of the phone, he's rolling his eyes and scratching the corner of his nose.
"anyway," hanta clears his throat, slips back into that stupid fake nonchalant tone he gets when he’s sending you voice messages, “i remember you said you were into that whole ‘yaoi' thing.”
he snorts, like he's mocking you, "me n' denks were gonna bang, so, i figured," he's collapses onto the bed next to denki with no grace or care for where he lands, you can hear denki complain in the background. "why not show you what you're missing?"
he grabs the blonde by the face, squishing his cheeks with his palms and drags his face into the picture. both of 'em cheesing at the phone, with matching hazy eyes and drooping smiles. like ying and yang with equal degrees of swag and stupidity across them both.
denki runs his tongue across his teeth, he’s been waiting for sero to do something for a minute, to touch him, to touch himself, a kiss, anything.
instead sero’s still fumbling with his phone, trying to figure out where’s he’s gonna put it to get the perfect angle.
and denki’s tired of waiting.
“dude,” the blonde’s voice is lower now, softer, two steps away from a whisper. “dude, dude— hanta.”
there’s a shiver that snakes it’s way up sero spine when he hears denki say his name. it’s weirdly intimate, in a way it’s not normally. it scratches an itch somewhere deep in his gut.
denki sighs again, impatient, borderline pouting at the lack of attention. but his gaze is heavy lidded, and his voice is syrupy. “just hold it for now, you can put it down later.”
and sero’s easy. they both know this. that’s why denki takes it upon himself to crawl over to where his best friend is still sat on the edge of the bed.
“you’re thinking ‘bout this too much,” he winks at the camera, hands running up and down the faded material coating hanta’s thighs.
as he curls his fingers around hanta’s waistband, nails gently tracing the exposed skin, “let’s just do what we normally do.”
hanta’s disembodied groan echoes, “yeaaah—ngh, yeah,” denki palming his erection through the fabric, “yeah, you’re so fuckin’ right.”
denki smirks at the shaking camera, because he knows, whenever you watch this, that you’re thinking what he’s thinking.
he traces the tip of hanta’s weeping cock through the fabric, softly, barely there, so easily pulling groans out from his friend. it’s so easy to get sero worked up, a bat of your eyelashes, the promise of a blowjob, he’s already half way to busting.
“hanta,” denki coos again. coy. so fucking coy. batting his pretty eyelashes with that doe-eyed look on his face, of course sero was a goner. the camera is visibly shaking from where he’s trying to keep the screen tilted. the blonde paws at his waistband, “lemme suck you off, real quick, i promise.”
what’s a guy to do?
fuck, he can’t do anything. except gulp, audibly. and nod his head like an overeager puppy.
but denki wants to have fun, why not. isn’t this supposed to be a show, a show for you, something sweet to wash out the bitter taste of the toxicity of your ‘relationship’ with hanta, in the first place.
“that’s not an answer,” slow, syrupy, as he licks his lips, eyes directed at hanta through the phone screen. he’s gone back to featherlight touches.
you both know sero loves this the most.
the build-up, the steady climb upwards. and every breath, every stutter, every sigh, every moan, in between then and now, he inhales all of it. almost like he enjoys this more than actually getting his nut. the act of dangling the pleasure in front of his face, just out of reach but so easily obtainable.
“m’sorry,” he exhales, eyes fluttering at the mere idea of denki’s mouth on his cock, “wan’ you t’suck my—fu-uck—”
shit, he would’ve dropped his phone if not for the burning desire for you to see this too, because denki’s mouth is like velvet.
the fleshy walls of his inner cheeks coax thick dribbles of pre-cum out of hanta’s throbbing cock. that perfect fuckin’ tongue of his glazes the underside in hypnotic waves, and all hanta can do is sit there and take it, let denki make a mess outta him.
it feels disgustingly good as the blonde pools his saliva and spits it right back onto him, that hanta can’t help but whine, low in the back of throat.
it’s a shame you can’t see his face. the way he tips his head back exposing the deep flush that blooms underneath the hickeys layering the column of his throat. his eyes, dark, dazed, and actively rolling back into his head, then fluttering closed, automatic, the puppet strings of his pleasure being pulled taut.
but you’d be able to hear how he hisses, “shii-it,” you’d be able to hear the pants pattering within his lungs increasing in volume every second, and the broken groans echoing in his chest with each bob of denki’s head.
you’d definitely get a clear view of denki. you’d see his mouth stretched around the base of hanta’s cock, bulge pressing against his cheek, visible from the outside, nose flush against the dark hair of his crotch.
and you know exactly what that smells like, if you inhaled now you’d probably still get notes of it. of that musk, the sweet sweat, that thing that is so uniquely hanta, that you could recognise with your eyes closed.
unlike denki, who’s dewey eyes are half lidded and fixed directly onto the camera. he’s a show off, he can’t help it, it just comes naturally to him at times like this. he might be laying it on a bit thick, swollen lips glistening with spit and jizz, eyelashes wet like lily stalks after rainfall. tears beading in his water line. the soft pout on his face as he slaps hanta’s cock against his lips, again, and again, and again.
but the dick-drunk daze in his eyes is real enough.
enough to let you know, whenever you do watch this, that denki’s cock is probably just as leaky as hanta's. in fact, if you're paying attention, you'd be able to see the way his hips roll, ever so slightly, and the friction making his mouth water. every subtle shift is just another drag of his cock against, either hanta's mattress, or, plainly, the material confining him.
either way, it's hot as fuck.
hanta seems to think so, "t-that's it, yeah, all the way into-nngh, shit, just. like. that."
deeper and deeper, all the way down into denki's throat, all the way down—
and that's where the picture goes black. muffled. fuck.
lucky for hanta.
because i doubt he'd want you to hear how wrecked he sounded, how animalistic. or see the primal instincts that caused him to grab denki's hair with both palms, white knuckled grip, and breed his throat. or watch him lose all composure as he forces the blonde to swallow every last drop.
and i doubt denki would've wanted you to see the way he limply accepted it, came back for seconds even, licking up every last spurt of his best friend's frothy cum. or the way he whimpered pathetically when he matched pace, and made a mess all over himself.
or the way he said thank you, afterwards.
or how hanta had grabbed him by the face and yanked the blonde back down on top of him. or how their mouths mashed together, hanta slurping the remnants of his own cum from the crevices of denki's mouth.
and i seriously doubt either one would've wanted you to see the electric current of overstimulation that phased through them both, after their sticky spent cocks made contact, in matching, delicious, pathetic humps.
or the way they spent the next twenty minutes torturing each other with the sensation, twitchy bodies and dazed grins.
…end of playback
↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺
ermmm… haiiiii thank you for waiting
@dollybabygirly @blueheavenmilkshake @kamislop @dhyuns @rumisgf @scarletgremlin @mymixedupfandoms @lilszier @zmbkats @bussdownflockiana @juliethhhh @salixeris @cattleqtie @realbadgyalll @sinister-italian-music @tokkushin @dotalicious @updownandbatty
“BEACHBOY”
a mha college au FEAT. DENKI K.
“and she's on top of me, and it is hot, hot, hot.”
disclaimer; i dont fw mcafferty, at all. but the song is so him.
the fruits of mine and @kamislop ‘s freaksations
mdni. cw: mutual masturbation, they’re practically edating, gooner x gooner, fingering, premature ejaculation, ummm, what else, unprotected sex, does that count as grown folk sex or not, riding for like five minutes, mommy kink (sorry i had to sneak it in there), whiney pathetic denki, so nothing new, bad language, recreational drug use, virgin denki, virgin reader. reader is thick fem coded. this is so meta
wc: 3.9k
↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺
starting track….
you've never actually met denki kaminari.
which is weird.
because, at this point, he's basically integrated himself into your daily routine.
he's the first person you speak to when you wake up, the last person you message before you go to sleep. the first person you go to text when something happens, small things, big things, bullshit that no one else is going to understand, movie reviews, song recommendations.
you've followed each other for... god, maybe two years now? one of those internet mutual situations. it was either a tiktok comment, or an instagram comment he posted that had you snorting at your screen so hard, you had to follow the guy with the pikachu profile picture, immediately.
always the first person to like your stories, to slide up with stupid reaction gifs, or drooling emojis. and then following it with 5 minute rants about how "this jjk arc is actually about the burden of adolescence", completely serious.
sometimes you’ll post something and before you’ve even locked your phone again—
LMAOOOOO
who pissed you off this time
or
okay but hear me out
followed by the worst take you’ve ever read in your life.
but you reply every time. because his exact ratio of funny to horny is just so perfectly calibrated to your freakquency.
you’ll post a selfie and get:
good lord.
then thirty seconds later:
WAIT WAIT WAIT
i need to rant
and suddenly he’s voice-noting you for four straight minutes about drama inside his friend group.
people you technically know. well. not know know. but know in the way internet mutuals know people. through usernames, blurry instagram stories, occasional re-posts, overheard names.
sero said this, jirou blocked someone, mina got too drunk at a house party, bakugou pushed him down the stairs, again.
and denki relays all of it to you like a disgraced court jester bringing gossip to the queen.
you’ll be brushing your teeth at midnight listening to him say some shit like, “NO because tell me why this grown man started shadowboxing in the function because somebody drank his monster.”
and you’re laughing so hard toothpaste nearly goes down your shirt.
it’s easy with him. so easy. easy to reply, easy to keep talking, easy to accidentally spend three hours discussing whether eren yeager was doomed by narrative structure or just mentally ill.
and then you’ll realise it’s four in the morning and your phone’s on 2%.
and he’s still typing, still there. that little green dot beside his name.
because he's always online. chronically.
you don't think there has been a single moment recorded in history where denki hasn't been within five feet of his phone. he'll snap you back when he's on the toilet, mid shit, phone still clutched in his hands. he'll text when you when he's on the train, replies with typos so bad you can physically hear how fast he was typing. snaps while he's walking home.
so eventually, eventually, obviously, inevitably, the natural progression of things.
he starts sending you voice messages while he's jerking off.
your own personal whimper audio plug.
you can't really remember when that started. actually, no, you can…
he’d just finished the third arc of this anime you recommended and absolutely had to call you at two in the morning to tell you exactly what he thought about it. and you were online anyways, active two minutes ago right there beside your profile picture.
only problem is, someone just happened to be mid goon sesh. vibrator pressed to your clit, toes clenched, sweating under your blankets, thighs drenched in your own slick, room dark except for the glow of your phone screen.
you're still not really sure what possessed you to press accept on his call, and you're even less sure why you continued to pleasure yourself with him rambling down the phone.
maybe it was the confidence that comes with anonymity, the fact that he doesn't know you in real life. maybe it was curiosity. maybe it was the fact he actually listened to you, watched the things you recommended, came back wanting your opinions like they matter, like you matter.
or maybe he's just… easy to listen to? warm, animated, endearing. the soothing tone of his voice, of him snickering at his own jokes.
“…right? like i’m not saying he was justified, but if that happened to me i probably would’ve done worse.... what d’you think?”
“i—” your voice catches, badly. you bite down hard on your lip, trying to stifle your moans, “umm—ngh—sorry, what?”
there’s immediate shuffling on his end.
“oh shit,” denki backtracks quickly. “sorry, were you asleep? fuck, my bad dude, just call me back in the morning—”
"no!" you reply, too fast, too desperate, you fucking— what the fuck is wrong with you, “no... s’fine. just… keep talking.”
there's a beat, a pause, and then, "oh, uhhh, okay...?" he continues on, rambling, but his voice is lower, slower, calmer, like he’s suddenly hyper-aware of every sound coming through the phone.
finally, he throws in the towel, bites the bullet.
“…sorry— you can literally kill me if i’m wrong but… are you—”
he coughs, awkwardly.
“are you touching yourself?”
god.
you really should've lied.
should've hung up the phone, messaged him back in the morning, or something, literally anything else.
but, ohhh, you didn't even care at that point. your orgasm already building hot under your skin and there was something strangely intoxicating about the fact he could tell, that he was even listening close enough to notice.
“yeah,” you breathe out before you can stop yourself. “yeah… i’m playing with myself.”
your voice wrecked in a way denki had never heard before.
he’s quiet now, fuck, fuck, fuck, you blew it.
he’s probably cut the call, gonna tell all his friends what a weirdo you are, maybe post a story-time on his close friends about the pervy girl rubbing herself while on the phone to him.
but… the humiliation of him finding out doesn’t derail you from the path of pleasure you’re already walking down, and although you’d never admit it, it probably makes it hotter. you might as well finish, you can wallow in your self-pity tomorrow.
the vibrations sound louder now that you’re not being a self conscious freak. you’re whimpering softly while the buzzing echoes against the slick running down your thighs, wet and muffled beneath the blankets.
you can hear it.
so can denki.
“is that—” he swallows, and you flinch in surprise at his voice suddenly coming through the receiver again, but you don’t bother slowing down. “is that…is that your pussy? that—that noise?”
what noise, the bzzz-bzzz-squelch-squelch? is he serious, “what else would it be?”
“i don’t— i dunno, it just…” he stumbles over the words. “it just sounds so… so wet.”
“mhmmm,” yeah, yeah it really does sound so wet, doesn’t it.
“does it always get like that?”
“mhmmm.”
a shaky breath crackles through the phone.
and then,
“w-wish i could see.”
what?
what?
oh.
you almost sigh in real time, what did you even have to worry about? did you forget this is denki, denki kaminari, the same freak who once said he would 'fuck your armpit' as a 'joke.'
the thought barely settles before you finally notice another sound leaking through the phone.
rhythmic. wet.
fap-fap-fap.
you still immediately, fingers curling around your little bullet vibe to switch it off. were you seriously so distracted you didn’t notice? didn’t hear this, didn’t hear him?
the wet schilcks of his hand working his cock, "wish i could see—no- wish i c-could-could touch it—nngggh-oh fu-uck—wish i could-hck!- wish i could fuckin’ taste you."
worse than you, oh, he's waaaay worse than you.
“w-wish you were here,” his voice crackles through the receiver alongside another ruined, greedy, sound. “wish you could see how messy i got—”
“denki—”
“fuuuck,” he whines softly. “say my name again, please. please, i’m—”
“denki, you’re so gross.”
“hah— shiiit, yeah,” he sounds obscene, like he can barely get the words out, “that’s the stuff.”
and seriously? already? because you've barely been on the phone for five minutes, there's no way he got this bad, that quickly. but you can’t deny how much it makes your pussy throb.
“yeah i'm gross, but you're worse, you started it.”
and that was the start of it, and i wish i could say it ended there.
but it didn’t.
because even freaks get tired of e-sex at some point.
↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺
it took a while for you guys to get to this point.
months of voice messages and facetimes, of teleparty and shared playlists, of beefing each other in comment sections and thirsting in dms.
and for denki, it all led to this moment.
your bedroom feels too warm.
his trainers are abandoned messily by your door beside your tote bag. one of your hoodies hangs off the back of your desk chair. fairy lights glow dim amber against the walls, mixing with the bluish light of your laptop screensaver bouncing around the dark room.
everything smells faintly like vanilla, fabric softener, and the weed the two of you smoked an hour ago with your bedroom window cracked open.
his hands shake.
so inexperienced and yet, so eager to please, they gently grope every inch of your body.
you never really enjoyed having your chest played with all that much, but there’s something about how denki’s heavy palm massages the underside of your tit, like he’s trying to unlock something, or explore.
and then his thumb brushes over your nipple, a shock to your system, you arch forward into his touch, body moving on auto pilot.
god, he wants to see you do it again.
he's dreamt about this, about this exact moment, for weeks. every stray thought, every dirty dream, you've plagued him.
mmmmm, and your body is so warm, and soft. inviting. his hands grip the flesh of your thighs, the fat bulging around his fingertips, the softness of your skin, right here, right here in front of him, not through a screen or part of a picture.
holy shit.
he really can’t take it.
because he's jerked off to the thought of you for so long, he's milked himself dry to the sound of your voice, he's wrung his cock to your smile, he's edged himself to the idea of what your hair would smell like, what your skin would feel like.
nutted all over his phone screen, humped his hand for hours.
he never thought he would even get the opportunity to meet you in real life, let alone be allowed into your bedroom, let alone have you underneath him, in nothing but panties and a fucking t-shirt.
he's literally trembling, his palms sweating as he grips you again, harder, firmer, like this is a dream, like if he blinks too much he might wake up, and he'll be back in his bed making a mess all over himself, another late-night fantasy while he’s half-delirious and horny, just like usual.
“denki, hey, dude, are you… good?”
but he's not at home, he's not in his bed, this isn't a wet dream, he's not gonna wake up to bakugou breaking his door down and telling him to take out the trash.
he shakes his head with a smile, “yeah, yeah, i'm good— sorry, i'm out of it.”
you’re definitely hiding it better, but you’re equally nervous.
so fucking nervous. you nearly cancelled last night because of how badly your stomach had twisted itself up. was he even gonna like you? would he still think you’re hot, even in real life? you barely slept, up all night thinking about what he was expecting, and whether you would meet those expectations.
if he knew how you were feeling, he probably would’ve slapped you or something. because this is better. this is so much better. so much better than dreaming or imagining, even now, the way you’re smiling up at him, glasses slipping down your nose, pretty eyes focused on him, and what he’s doing, and if he’s feeling okay.
you’re so perfect.
and he has to make you feel good, he needs to.
you spent the last two hours, half watching something on your laptop, and half making out.
and…
that was life changing.
it’s so indescribable, he still feels dizzy from it. how you felt in his lap, the warm heat of your body consuming his very being. the feeling of your tongue down his throat, his hands around your neck, your lips against his, he almost came, just like that, just from a little kissing.
can you really blame him.
it was so good.
but this is about to be better.
it's so easy for you to melt into him. maybe it's the nervous energy radiating off of him that calms your own nerves. you've always been that kind of person, quick to accommodate to other people’s needs, in tune with their feelings.
and denki wears his heart on his sleeve. he's easy to read, an open book. also his face is flushed a beautiful pink, he's panting, breathing heavily into your mouth, pupils blown wide every time you touch him.
so you kiss him again, just to relax him of course, certainly not because you're craving the feeling of him against you, his shirtless torso pressed flush against your chest.
it works though, he defrosts, relaxes, nearly crumples against you, against the soft swell of your chest, his hands snaking down the sides of your body, fingers dipping underneath the fabric and fuck, are you really—“this soft everywhere?”
you hum at his question, then quickly realise he's talking to himself, hypnotised by the feeling of your flesh, he has to be dreaming because there is actually no way you're really, “—so fuckin' soft, oh my god.”
he's still stuck on that? you click your tongue, as much as you would love to explore each other bodies in this PG-13 way, you've soaked yourself through your panties. maybe you're the real pervert, he's having a wonderful time just touching your skin, and all you're thinking about is how badly you want him inside you.
you do it yourself.
slip a hand in the gap between your bodies, your nervous, virgin, freaked out, bodies, and slide your fingers below the hem of your underwear. you barely graze your outer lips before he's snatching your hand, a little too rough, a little too hungry. he loosens his grip almost immediately but holds your gaze, “please, please let me do it, i promise it'll be good,” his thumb strokes nervously against the inside your wrist, “i— i'll be careful, i'll be gentle with you, i swear.”
who are you to say no? how could you, not when his hands slide down your thighs with gentle reverence, not when he clutches the hem of your panties like he's afraid he'll hurt them.
never mind, he can't do it.
he has to close his eyes, he can't look, can't watch the way your pussy juice clings to the fabric. he peeks open an eyelid, then closes it again. his heart is beating so fast he might throw up.
“denki, babe,” babe??? he nearly screeches, his eyes flutter open again, the faint smile that's painted on your face makes him spurt a tad, you really are perfect, “just breathe, okay, it's fine, you're doing great.”
you really have a way with words, because that kicks him into overdrive, he slips the fabric down so it pools around your knees, and, and, and he—
let’s out a strangled whimper when he sees your puffy pussy lips, drenched in your own slick.
“did i—” he swallows, panting, “did i do this t’you?” eyes transfixed on your trembling cunt. he drags a single finger through the mess, through your slick, until the digit is coated. hisses out a curse when he retracts the finger and there’s a string of your arousal that clings to it.
your arousal, your pussy, your fucking pussy, “g-god,” he slurs around the finger, licking up every last drop of you, and then inhaling deeply, the scent of your pussy making his eyes roll back into his head.
how has he come all this way, just to slurp your mess off of his finger and hump your mattress.
he has to pull it together.
but you’re making it so difficult.
“d'you know," a strangled groan cuts him off and he gulps, "d'you know, how often i’ve dreamt about this, it—”
he's using you like a fidget toy, two fingers dragging through your slick, drawing patterns, somewhat, mostly assessing the area. what makes you flinch, what makes you gasp, what makes you grip his shoulders with both your hands and beg him to keep going.
you dig your nails into him, while he traces your pulsing labia, the calluses of his fingertips trailing a path across your pussy, there's no way his cock can go in there, inside you, inside your mushy gummy walls, that are clenching around his fingers, there's no way he can go in there and come out alive. you'll strangle him to death and he'll never want to leave.
"she's so pretty," as he stares, absolutely mesmerised at the wetness coating his palm as his fingers scissor open your pussy. “so, fucking, pretty.”
and you’re really not making it any better for him, your thighs quivering uncontrollably, his hands feel so much better than your own. you let him know, verbally, but also with how your eyes glaze over, how your breathing stutters, how you lift your legs to wrap around him, to keep him there.
the pressure of your thighs pushes him further into your mattress, and there’s a spark of delicious, addicting, friction that catches him. causes him to twitch against you, crash his mouth into yours, sharing each other’s whimpers.
you can’t go on like this, you try to open your mouth, to speak, to tell him to hurry up and stick his fucking dick in you already. but he doesn’t let you, he’s already lost, of course he is.
the weakest, most pathetic humps, his crotch positioned perfectly in between your legs but also resting on the bed below. so when he grinds his hips down there’s a shock that travels up his spine, but your bodies are close enough that he if he closes his eyes, he can pretend he’s actually fucking you.
denki’s such an idiot.
your pussy right there, he’s literally cupping your warmth with his palm, fingers prodding against your g-spot, and yet all he can do is imagine, slip off into a daydream where he’s fucking you for real.
and you have a feeling that if you don’t do something to snap him out of it right now, he’d spend the whole night doing just that. pretending to fuck you in his head, while you’re right there, right here, squirming underneath him.
he’s lucky you think he’s cute.
“denki, baby…”
he inhales like he’s just been dunked into a tub of ice water, his eyes snap up from where they’d spiralled over watching his fingers disappear inside you, the creamy slick coating the digits, the heat, the—
“denki?”
“hmm?” god he’s so hot, and still so fucking adorable, he’s pouting like you’ve pulled him away from something important.
“don’t you wanna… put it in?”
put it in? put it in? put what in— oh, oh right. of course, of course he does, but his eyebrows raise like he didn’t realise that was an option.
he fumbles one handed, nearly knocks himself over in his haste to undo his belt, fucking stupid belt, the clasp gets stuck and he, fuck it’s fine, it’s all good, he’s so normal about this.
you motion like you’re about to offer assistance, then his cock springs out, slaps against his stomach and…
oh, oh, the poor thing.
flushed, angry at being ignored, bright pink, and leaking. leaking all over his abs, all over his stomach, the inside of his jeans, the inside of his boxers.
fucking hell.
you nearly start laughing, not mocking, more like, when you’ve been sat at a restaurant for so long, hungry, waiting, for ages, and then they finally bring the food out, and it’s so:
yummy.
that’s it.
you pounce on him like he’s prey, practically manhandle him into laying flat on his back, and clamber over his thighs, your legs bracketing his hips.
and denki moans like a fucking whore.
“oh, holy shit,” his hands twitch like he’s not sure whether he’s allowed to touch you, but he really can’t stop running his mouth like, “you’re gonna—gonna ride me- oh, pleasepleaseplease—”
his voice cracks right down the middle when you finally, finally, sink down.
shit, it is a stretch, despite how long he spent playing with your cunt, but it’s so fucking delicious, mhmmm, you both feel it, the drag of his weeping veiny cock sweeping along the walls of your pussy.
and for the first time all night, he’s quiet.
dead silent.
you think his nose might start bleeding.
his lips, bitten, chapped, parted, rushed puffs of air leaving his body, eyes rolled back into his head, then fluttering, like his soul is being exorcised.
the dam breaks.
“is it— is it supposed to feel like this?” he’s delirious, cloudy eyed and drunk, “holy shi-iiit—can't believe it feels this good.”
he grips your thighs, tight enough to leave bruises, and whimpers when you grind down against him and your tits bounce, right in his fucking face.
“edged myself for th-three days,” he confesses as he drools into your skin, he can't look you in the eye, he presses his mouth against your chest and murmurs, “saved up so much cum for you, all for you.”
“can you feel me, all the way inside.” he presses down on your lower stomach, the pressure makes your toes curl, “c-can’t believe i’m inside you, can’t believe you let me—oh, oh, fuck, wait, don’t—”
don’t what? don’t clench around his cock. don’t clamp down on him with your hot gummy walls. don’t pull him back in when he tries to move. how are you supposed to do that?
“gonna— gonna give you so much cum,” small, sloppy semi-upward thrusts, he can't even move properly, just humping up against you like a dog, “m'gonna make you feel so good, gonna fill you up— m-make you feel so fucking good—”
he's slurring, drunk off your pussy, drunk off you, “i hafta— hafta, m-m-make— good, gonna be good— gonna be a good boy."
suddenly he's spilling into you, ropes and ropes, of milky white nut, flooding your pussy, filling you to the brim.
but he doesn't stop moving.
in fact, you don’t know how he mustered up the strength after that pathetic display, but he flips you over, so you’re underneath him again, hisses when his cock slips out, still so fucking hard, still dribbling, one hand gripping your thigh, the other rubbing circles on your clit.
“i c-can keep going— can't stop, not 'till you cum too, i promise, i p-promise i'll keep going mommy.”
overstimulation tears through him, his nerves are fried, but still he doesn't stop, doesn't slow down, doesn't give himself a minute to catch his breath. just his cock, hammering into you, drilling into your pussy, “keep—ngh-keep going, gotta k-k-keep going…”
you're in for a long night.
… end of playback.
↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺
@kamislop @dotalicious @lonelyfooryouonly @tsushimimi @tokkushin
this is a mixtape madness fic, drop a request and i’ll get back to you:
you guys dont know how much i relate to this sighhh
wedding ring handjobs with satoru, husband!gojo, newly weds, handjobs, facials. alt. title — smeagle wants to nut. 903 words.
“Baby—baby, c’mon, you gotta do it again.”
“Satoru, no.”
Your arm burns and wrist aches. Lord knows how your new husband’s dick doesn’t, though, as it raises to full mast for the third time tonight. You don’t care—yes, you gave somewhat of a shit the first round, after he whined over blue balls for thirty minutes straight, but all your shits left during that last orgasm when he, uncaring, came all over your sleep shirt. Why did you decide to marry this dickhead, again?
It started simple—your man asked for a handjob. (Thankfully, because honestly, you were too tired to give him anything else.) But, you should’ve known something was up, because Satoru Gojō of all people never asks for a handjob. And when he does, it’s always, ‘c’mon Baby, let’s just grind real quick—just the tip, promise.’
(It’s never just the tip.)
would use this fic as a vibrator if i could
i do indeed write on here only when im ovulating
STOPPPYGHHH I KNOW TENYA IS A FREAK AT HEART STOP GIVING ME THAT INNOCENT BULLSHIT IN FICS BRO 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭THATS NOT MY MAN
even if hes not im gonna bring out that freak in him 🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤 i know that mf learn fast
stop guys hes literally my baby 😢😢😢 why are you guys being freaks freaky freaky deaky