you give katsuki an edible for the first time and instead of getting relaxed he’s fucking you in a mating press while his rimmed red eyes stare into youre, usual muffled sounds loud as he rolls his hips into yours, blurting, “fuck, why didn’t i do this sooner?”
he knew his girlfriend was more inclined than he was to take a smoke or chug five shots (he was out on one) without even worrying. but his strict ass regimen? fuck no! it just so happens that when he sneaks a taste—or maybe four bites—of your 6-ingredient step brownies, he didn’t think hours later he would be here. he blames you, but he’s wouldn’t say this was in his plans.
he’s never wanted to feel you milk his dick for his cum and splash him with yours more than ever, and that’s a feat. he always wants to feel that shit. but fuck, and he lets out a groan as his head falls to your damp chest, licking at your nipple before sucking harshly, a moan falling deep within your chest.
you, too, are very happy that he finally did this—well, accidentally did it, but the benefits you reaped for leaving the brownies out makes you feel extra gooey. you would be saying that if you could—but your eyes are rolled back and your mouth is open, and the only thing you really can do is mewl and pant.
“fuckfuck, shit—“ he hisses, snapping his hips into yours as he circles his thumb harshly around your clit, “feels so good baby, so good.” it’s as if the scorching, buzzy feeling moving up and over his body exemplifies the absolute pleasure he is feeling. holy fuck, making love has never felt hotter, better, and thrilling.
he lifts back up to stare at you in all of your raw glory, and you can feel his dick twitch inside of your walls, “you like it, baby?” his chest draws in as he pulls your hips up and over his shoulders, careful to keep the pillow underneath your hips.
you manage to muster a half nod, halfway you throwing your head back into the pillow as his tip hits your g-spot over and over again. “i know you do, baby. i know you do. gave your man a nice treat, and now you get yours, huh?”
you don’t give a reply, but the squeal and squeeze of your pussy around his cock is enough of an answer.
graphic credits to @/saradika-graphics, thank u for reading! please reblog, comment (i will reply back!! im js a wee bit shy sorry), or like, it is appreciated!
please do not steal, copy, or feed this work into ai <3
Frank and Sweetheart dropping into subspace together home alone. Jack or Robby returning to find the two of them dripping with sweat and rutting against eachother and whimpering because they can’t quite cum without Daddy or Mr. Abbot there 🥴
18+ mdni omg :(( it starts as normal fooling around, making out on the couch and dry humping while robby and jack are out for some drinks… but then you start teasing one another….
frank reaches down to open his fly but you click your tongue and catch his wrist. “C’mon, hotshot, not yet. Gotta earn it.”
n he returns your taunting grin. “Oh yeah? Gonna make me work for it, princess?” He presses hot kisses to the spot on your neck that he knows makes you shiver. “Wanna play bein’ in charge? Huh, pretty girl?”
and even though frank talks a big game, you guys end up going back and forth like that n it slowly devolves into you both getting too worked up and floaty to keep up the teasing… eventually you’re just whining and humping one another </3
jack and robby walk in and are greeted by you two sweaty and writhing on the couch </3 frank’s shirt and pants are discarded on the floor but his boxer briefs are still on, wet and sticky in the front from your combined arousal. your sleep shirt and panties are both strewn out on the floor too, leaving you naked and balmy.
“Frank, please,” you’re practically sobbing, “Need your mouth.”
“Jesus, kid.” Robby addresses Frank, alerting you to their presence and making your head snap in their direction. “How long have you been messing with her?”
“Daddy,” you whimper out, reaching out for him. at the same time frank whimpers into your neck, giving Robby pause.
“Frank. Look at me.”
Frank turns his head against your clavicle, and his blue eyes search the room for a moment before landing on Robby, gaze unfocused.
Robby and Jack each let out a soft chuckle. “Both of you?” Robby intones. “Huh?” he reaches out to scratch frank’s scalp, and the younger man keens softly at the touch. He shakes his head and mutters “What the hell am I gonna do with you?” but there’s only affection behind it
“Daddy, please,” your watery cry pulls robby’s attention back, frank’s hips still rolling mindlessly against your pelvis n driving you insane. “Need to cum, daddy.”
“Poor thing.” Robby croons. “Need us to help you? Yeah?”
You wiggle under frank, trying to escape his weight, gripping Robby’s arms in your desperate attempt to get closer. Robby coos.
“Back up, Frank— there you go” when Frank sits back on his haunches to free you robby grasps under your arms to guide you into position on your hands and knees.
“But—“
“You’ll get attention too, pretty boy.” Jack cuts off Frank’s whined protest, reaching out to scratch the man’s scalp then trail his fingers down the hair at the nape of his neck. Frank shivers.
Robby plants a knee behind you and draws you close, big warm hands feeling up your the fat of your hips and breasts as he lets out a groan. “You’re fucking burning up— how long were you two going at it like that?”
“Dunno,” you murmur uselessly. Your hands reach back to grope desperately at Robby’s bulge through his pants, eyes wide and glassy as you gaze back at him in a silent plea. His lips quirk.
“Alright, sweetheart.” His fingers deftly work the button of his fly and pull down the zipper. “You can have it.”
You grind back against him the moment his cock is freed, letting out a keening moan that’s all need n desperation.
Frank watches from in front of you, practically drooling, cock red n angry n leaking against his stomach. His hips jut up fruitlessly into nothing, and a soft low whine escapes his lips at the lack of friction.
Jack coos n reaches down to grasp frank’s cock, making him gasp and thrust up again, quick and clumsy into jack’s thick fist. “Shh, attaboy.”
Jack looks at you just as your jaw drops open n your eyes roll back when Robby grips your hips and slides balls deep into your pussy.
“Think you can multitask, babydoll?” Jack asks gently, free hand reaching out to tuck a sweat-slicked strand behind your ear. You look at him, bleary and confused for a moment, before your eyes fall to Frank’s cock. Your eyes turn hungry, and Jack chuckles. “Yeah, honey, that’s what I mean. Get that dick in your mouth, go on. Let the poor kid cum.”
You dive forward n robby follows you with his hips, never letting his cock slip out. Your mouth is around frank quickly, sucking n licking n moaning like his dick is the best thing you’ve ever tasted— and right now, you’d say that it is.
“Good girl.” Robby praises. He runs a hand across your back as he fucks into you, deep n steady. Your pussy pours slick around his cock, n you’re too far gone to even feel embarrassed by the way it’s dripping down your thighs. “You two couldn’t even function without someone telling you what to do, could you? Such useless little brats.” He grits out, voice low n strained with arousal.
jack and robby indulge you, spoil you both with attention until robby’s cumming inside your pulsing walls as you orgasm, frank’s spilling inside your mouth, and jack’s shooting ropes across frank’s chest as the younger man sloppily jerks him off <3
in the aftermath you and frank are gone. totally floating through clouds, limbs heavy with exhaustion and heads swimming with endorphins.
jack and robby get you both cleaned up with gentle hands and lots of soothing coaxing— “shh, i know, kid. almost done.” “stay still for me, sweetheart. that’s it. you’re doing such a good job.” — and eventually you’re all settled on the couch, frank leaning into robby’s side and you cradled in jack’s lap
You’re playing with Jack’s fingers, tracing the thick expanse of them and feeling them bend at the joints. Jack smiles down at you, reaches up to thumb across your jaw, then your lip, then slide his fingers into your mouth. You practically melt into him as you suckle gently, and he presses a kiss to the crown of your head.
“You did so well, babydoll.” Jack murmurs. “You’re so good. Both of you.” He casts a glance at Frank, who smiles lazily at the praise. His blinking grows slower by the minute as Robby rubs a big warm hand up and down his side.
Robby hums in agreement, giving Frank’s flank a couple hearty pats. “Gonna have to keep a close eye on you two. Invest in some cameras, maybe.”
Jack chuckles. “The kind pet owners get when their dogs keep chewing up the furniture and pissing on the floor?”
It’s a joke, but you fucking moan, start squirming in jack’s lap, and the two men let out surprised laughs.
“What, hon, you like that idea?” Robby teases lowly.
Jack stills your rocking movements with a tight arm around your middle, shushing you and kissing your temple, stroking your tongue w the pads of his fingers. “Easy, sweetie. Don’t get worked up, you don’t have another round in you.”
yuuji finger fucking you with his promise ring on … and it’s like a low quality recording in the hidden folder on his phone for when he’s feeling lonely … most of it being your whines and him whimpering back in response every time you say his name. just: “uh huh? yeah baby? deeper? i think you’re gonna cum. please cum for me.” and the pitch of his voice rises the closer you get to squirting on his fingers
BEGGING YOU to write more about the headcanon you wrote with Bakugo fucking the reader while on the phone with Kirishima and Kirishima coming home to join😫
Eijiro brought his phone up to his ear with shaky hands. Desperately trying to get a good listen of your moans and whines. He groans, "Oh kats.. this is so unfair!!" God how he would give anything to be off work, back in your bedroom, sandwiched between his boyfriend and girlfriend.
The blond brought the phone up to his mouth. "Sucks to suck I guess- hah- your fault for being 'busy' !" Eijiro could hear the squelch of your pussy through the phone and it was driving him mad. "I am busy! Hero work is very important-" he retorted.
"More important than fucking us?"
Eijiro could almost hear the cocky look Kats was giving him through the phone.
Katsuki spoke again, "Hey what do you think about all this?" He chuckled before passing the phone over to you. Or, rather, placing it next to your head since you couldn't hold it while your hands are kept above your head.
You were far too gone to reply meaningfully. Moaning out loudly you wailed "Kats- harder please"
Katsuki grunted, "What do you have to say to Eijiro?" He held the speaker to your mouth and slowed his hips to a stop. You whined and finally responded, "I want you to come home!"
The call ended.
Eijiro was sure he could think of an excuse to get out of work in the next ten minutes.
♡ TW: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, yandere, omegaverse, forced bonding, subjugation, some type of discrimination, elements of androgyny
♡ fem reader
Thinking about the big and burly behemoth Omega finally finding himself the cutest little Alpha to breed with…
He could never bring himself to breed with Alphas. Growing up, he developed a great disdain for them—all high and mighty rabid animals prone to violence, more often than not completely dimwitted to top it off, as if their massive ego had usurped the place of basic brain operation.
He couldn’t hate them more, yet he doesn’t correct anyone when they mistake him for one, either. In many ways, he wished he was born one instead of an Omega. It would make it easier to fulfill his desires that way. A dominant Omega isn’t all that normal, after all—and submissive Alphas are an even rarer breed to come by.
He hadn't found one yet. And other Omegas don’t really do it for him. They approach him, thinking he’s an Alpha, then feel disappointed when figuring out he’s not—which is fine, as he isn’t particularly interested in their scent either. Betas make for an okay compromise—they don’t care if he’s an Omega, it makes no difference to them—yet he could never really shake the feeling that something was missing when lying with them.
At the office, the scent of Alphas plagues him all day—how they strut around, stinking up the place with no concern for anyone else. This is a workplace, for fuck’s sake—can’t they have a little dignity and not treat it like a mating ground? He really hates them. All bigheaded assholes—
“Ow—” there’s bark and a hard thunk of something hitting the floor.
Someone just bumped into him—someone so small he hadn’t even seen them over the top of his clipboard. Looking down, he sees a fellow Omega—a pretty one. You must be as disoriented by the scent around you as he is—probably why you walked right into him—poor thing. He ought to help you up.
You hold your head in your hand, wincing at the sting of your rear—you’d fallen right on your tailbone. Looking up, you give the fellow Alpha who’d knocked you down a mean glare, “What the hell, asshole!”
His outstretched hand stiffens midway. That’s not a very Omega-like thing to say—especially not by one so small as you. No, wait… what’s that scent?
You ignore his hand and get up on your own, dusting down your pin-stripes with angry brushes—face pursed, almost pouty, but not quite, too stink-eyed as you lean in and jab a finger into his chest to punctuate your words, “Watch where you’re going next time, you…”
You soften up halfway through the sentence. It must have dawned on you as well. His scent. Not like other Alphas, but something else entirely—something that suddenly makes you blush all over, wide-eyed.
You don’t say another word, only giving a weak huff before turning tail and stomping away.
There’s something very cute about it—he’s left thinking while watching you, utterly stunned and still, replaying the events that just occurred over and over in his head—wondering how he’d never seen you before. You must work on a different floor.
Luckily, he’d made sure to read your name tag—pinned all properly on your chest like a badge of honor, neatly like the rest of you. Well put together from the top of your salon-styled hair down to the tips of your pointy black stilettos. Even with their added height, you must have been two heads shorter than him—no taller than any regular Omega.
It's no wonder he mistook you for one. You were as cute as one, too—like a doll he could put behind glass, up on a mantle, and keep forever. But oh my… that mouth on you and that awful snarl. Just like any other imposing Alpha, he supposed. Bratty and arrogant, quick to jump the gun and pick a fight instead of taking it for the simple accident it was.
He goes back and sets himself down by his desk—but he’s way too distracted to work now, too busy with the thought of you. That flushed face you showed him before teetering off was something he wouldn’t mind seeing again—also that cute scowl under certain circumstances and what type of expression you’d give him if he wiped it off.
He's lucky an office party came along so quickly. He wouldn’t usually go, but now he had a reason. He bet you’d be there—the way you were dressed when you’d bumped into him tells him you’re one to respect the memo—head to toe in such a neat suit, trying to come off as androgynous as if in desperation needing everyone to know you were an Alpha. It must be hard for you—looking like that but wanting to look… well, suppose more like him.
He's glad he never felt that way—wishing to be smaller and cuter like other Omegas. Sure, he’s been envious of them at times, but more so of their easy pickings and not their appearance. He’s happy being bigger and stronger—it keeps unwanted attention at bay. You probably struggle to do the same. He bets you get a lot of the wrong eyes following you. Yeah… you must attract the bad sort all the time—alphas swarming you only to catch your scent and lose interest. Or maybe not… Alphas are sick, after all. Come to think of it, most of them would probably get off on dominating another Alpha. In that regard, it must have been worse for you than for him. Luckily, both of your issues are now solved.
He wondered what you’d wear tonight. You’d look much better in something feminine and not that suit you’d been wearing. He hopes, but no, you’re wearing much the same thing—another tailored two-piece that all but drowns you.
He understands what you’re going for. You have to dress like that, or else what Omega would ever want you looking the way you do? Aside from him, of course.
No matter. When you move in with him, he’ll dress you in all the pretty things he knows you want to wear. After all, pretty colors, ruffles, and lace will suit you so much better.
“Hello again.” He approaches you by the hors d’oeuvres even after you’d visibly and explicitly chosen to ignore him.
You groan under your breath, responding without even bothering to look at him, “Do I know you?”
Your tough act is cute. He has to withhold a chuckle before answering, “Don’t remember? You called me an asshole a week ago.”
“You walked right into me, so it’s not like it wasn’t deserved.”
You have to love that arrogance—that air of unfounded superiority. He wonders, where do you keep it all? “Well, how could I not? You’re so small I didn’t even see you.”
You’re quick to bare your teeth—obviously, he hit a nerve—showing him that same snarl you’d done back then. Cute little canines—he bet they won’t even hurt going into his neck once you mark him.
“Watch your mouth, Omega.”
Still, with a small smile, he feigns surprise. “Wow—are you an Alpha? Funny, I didn’t know they came in such tiny packages.”
It flusters you, no doubt—your brows lowered into a full glower now. “And I didn’t know Omegas could be so rude.”
You turn to stomp again, as you’d done before—though this time, he grabs your arm before you’re gone.
You whip around with another bark, “Hands off—"
“I’m sorry,” he apologizes unexpectedly, giving you puppy-dog eyes you hadn’t thought him capable of. “I should have been more mindful of my steps. It was entirely my fault.”
You go still at the sudden show of humility and respect. Finding yourself softening by the tilt of his head, bowing at you in acknowledgment of your higher standing. Not that many bother doing that to you—between mistaking you for an Omega or otherwise neglecting your standing as an Alpha, both due to your physique. Seeing it up close and so abruptly flusters you.
“Let me get you a drink to make up for it?” he offers politely, almost in plead.
Struck with feelings of somewhat regret for your own uncouth attitude, you nearly accept on a whim. “That’s kind…” But then think it over. You don’t really want to lead him on, either. You nearly stutter, yet steal yourself. After all… “But you’re not really my type.”
He hangs his head with a dejected sigh, “That’s harsh.” But he’d already figured as much and didn’t really care. Giving you his most sorry grin, he insists, “Humor me anyway? Just one drink so I don’t feel like an asshole for the rest of my life.”
It’s clear you want to refuse—still, as suspected, your heart just can’t handle seeing a desperate Omega in need. Bless your dim Alpha instincts.
“Okay, fine. One drink, that’s all,” you end up agreeing. One drink can’t hurt, right?
You feel like a good Samaritan once the big hunk of an Omega runs off to fetch you a glass. Pitying him or even sympathizing, maybe—it can’t be easy for an Omega in the mating scene to look like that. No Alpha around would want an Omega bigger than them—it’s utterly emasculating, not to mention unnatural.
Of course, you’re aware you’re in much the same shoes as him—you’re not delusional. Only, it’s easy being an independent Alpha—you don’t mind being a lone wolf in the world—but Omegas were built to be domestic. So yeah, you pity him—the poor guy, he’ll probably never find a proper mate.
But you can’t let your pity grant him too many favors—you have no intention of taking on any charity case tonight, especially not a pity fuck. You’ll have one drink with him as a mutual apology. That’s all.
Luckily… one drink is all he needs. Add a little sprinkle of this and that in your glass, and you’re already in the palm of his hand.
He has to carry you bridal style before he’s even managed to lead you to the elevator—it’s empty all the way down to the garage. He puts you in his car, locks your seatbelt in place, then drives off. It’s honestly quite astounding how easy it had been. He’d thought trapping an Alpha would be a much more remarkable feat, an impossible one for an Omega—but this was no different from eating an unguarded piece of cake.
You’re drowsy as he carries you into his apartment. And that’s when the other drug kicks in. The overwhelming scent of being inside his nest sets off your rut like a matchstick being ripped along the red.
Your claws come out, puncturing his sheets as he lays you down on his bed.
You’re too delirious to do much but writhe—making it easy for him to unbutton your dress shirt, followed by your slacks. He has to scoff at your plain black boxers and binder bra. You poor thing, always trying to run with the big dogs when you’re no bigger than a bite-sized puppy. From now on, you’ll only wear lacey things he brings home for you. You won’t have to puff your chest—you can be as sweet and pretty as your delicate physique constitutes—his cutest, littlest, most perfect mate.
You gain newfound strength once he’s peeled your underwear down, baring your needy heat to his touch. Instantly, your arms spring into action, flinging themselves around him, pouncing like a predator at its prey with your fangs bared.
He stops you easily—placing his wrist between your teeth, using it as a muzzle. He chuckles, looking at you gnaw on it like a bone.
“I think the world has it all wrong,” he starts, though he’s not sure you’re even capable of understanding speech in your state. “Omegas are the ones better suited as leaders of society, not Alphas.”
As he talks, he continues with his ministrations, stroking your needy slit with a mean finger, swiping it cruelly before splitting between the folds.
“I mean, look at you—mindless in a rut, willing to pounce on anything that moves—like a wild animal.” Once he sticks his finger inside you, your teeth do his wrist the same justice—drawing blood, making him hiss through his smile, “I ought to keep you in a cage.” And yet he doesn’t pull either hand away. “It would suit you well—on your knees with a pretty leash and collar upon your throat.”
You’re wet in his hand—soaked and so warm he loses track of his own finger as if melting within you. His cock strains against his boxer, wanting to feel it for himself. But you’re still way too tight for that.
He feeds you another digit, and you moan—suckling on his wrist now more than biting, though still with your canines out and seeking.
“Look at these wittle teeth, tch—” he grins upon closer inspection, looking between them and your eyes—pupil-fat orbs, far gone in your instincts. “I bet they’re just itching for my neck instead, huh?”
The provocation seems to make you more desperate. Pumping you slowly, more so to stretch you out than stimulate, he can feel your breaths turn thicker with need, how you press your tongue against his wrist, wet and lousy, wanting for more.
“Well, go on then, Alpha...” He chuckles again, removing his arm from barring your mouth before wrapping your throat with the same hand, holding it like a collar, keeping you under control.
Using lube with an extra special ingredient so when they force you to suck their cock you can feel your mind slipping with each thrust. Your body getting weaker and more pliant as you gag and drool around them.
If the drugged lube is strong enough maybe your other holes will absorb it too
The heat woke you up before John got the chance; the room gone thick with it, fan dead since two in the morning. You awoke in a body that wasn't entirely yours anymore — one leg slung over his thigh, your cheek glued to his shoulder with a film of dried sweat, the sheets kicked to the foot of the bed, twisted into a rope over your ankles.
You could smell the night still on the both of you. Him mostly. Salty, sticky skin, the back-of-the-throat musk of a man who'd just come home off a four month run somewhere he won’t name, fallen on top of you before he'd even got his boots all the way off, worked you over thrice, then slept like the dead in the heat he created without so much as wiping either of you up with a washcloth — his cum and your slick gone tacky between the press of your thighs, pulling at the flesh when you shifted.
Everything ached the way it only ached after him: low in your belly, raw where he'd been, a bruise coming up on the back of a knee from where he'd folded you in half, thick fingers pressed into the meat of it sometime past midnight.
You wanted to get up to finally rinse.
To feel like a person again.
But his calloused hand came down flat on your hip the moment you moved, before your knee had even cleared his leg.
"Where?" is all he managed, voice wrecked and low and gravelly with sleep, the word barely fully formed on his tongue.
"I'm disgusting," you complained, a whisper.
"Mm." His thumb moved across the jut of your hipbone, finding crust of himself there. His eyes hadn't opened yet. The corner of his mouth had, though, dragging up at one side. "Yeah… y'are."
"I'm glad you're happy with yourself," you huffed sleepily.
His hand kept going, palm dragging down over your hip and around the back of your bent thigh, and then up again into the real mess of you, fingers finding where you were still half-open and swollen from last night, slipping through the sticky wet, the pad of his middle finger circling your sensitive entrance. It was too much and not enough at once — the drag of him over flesh that hadn't settled, a wince folding straight into something hotter, your hips pushing into his hand.
He made a sound; pleased, throaty, his brows pulling in for a second.
"Look at that," he murmured against your temple. "Bet you don' even wan' it cleaned up, do you?"
"Shut up," you half-heartedly murmured.
"Mm-mm," he protested.
Then he rolled, the whole heavy heat of him coming over you in one move, knee shoving your thighs apart before you'd even agreed to anything, and the air between your bodies went humid and ripe, his chest sticking to yours, the dense hair on it dragging over your tender nipples. And your body answered him — thighs falling open the rest of the way, some primal part of you glad of his weight, glad to be pinned under it, glad he was solid and here and breathing on you. He braced up on a forearm and looked down at you, cyan eyes cracked open and bloodshot, lashes still gummed together. He looked like hell. But so did you, you were sure, and he was staring down like you were the best thing he'd ever seen.
He spat into his own hand without breaking from your eyes, crude, and reached down between you to slick his cock with it. You spread more open for him, your hands coming up to his back where sweat was gathered at the base of his spine.
He sank all the way in on the first stroke, stretching your sore walls, an obscene wet crackle of air pushing out to make room for him, Your whole body remembered him in one shoved open rush. He dropped his forehead to the side of your neck and let out a long breath through his nose.
"Four months," he rasped, almost to himself, the syllables coming apart as they fell. "Four months this was the only thing in my fuckin' head." Then, against your mouth, the gravel coming back into it, his throbbing cock bumping your cervix, your nails scrabbling over his sweaty skin for purchase: "That's it, dove. You can take it. You can take it, look at you, you've had worse than this off me."
You could hear his grin.
"Since last night?" you managed to get out. "Or— generally?"
A huff against your lips, almost a laugh, his hips not stopping. "Both."
He fucked you like he hadn't slept it off at all, like four months of going without you had only stored it up, his cock dragging thick and deep through the wreckage he'd already made of you. Every push of it pressed the sweat-slick of his furry belly against your clit so you got it both ways at once, inside and out, until your spine wanted to leave your body.
He talked the whole time — clipped, half-swallowed, filth pouring out of him like silver.
"Feel that," he asked. "That's last night still in you, that is. Didn't go anywhere." His teeth caught your jaw, dragged, overgrown beard scratching at your skin. "Gonna add some more to it." A deep grind of his hips that pushed the breath out of you. "Was lying there, every night, in the dark thinking about this. You under me, made a mess of, soaked through and still begging for more. Had to think about something else quick or I'd've embarrassed myself." His mouth is in your ear, hot and foul. "Four months of that. And now here you are. Wetter than the inside of my own head."
"John— you're so—," you couldn't get anything else out before he'd angled up and a moan tore out of you instead.
"Gross? Annoying?" he offered, hips snapping now, the bed knocking the wall, his hand slipping between you and the mattress to cant your cunt to his liking. "Yeah. And yet you're clenched down on me like you've never been happier. Funny, that."
It built faster than it had any right to. You'd stopped being able to do anything but hold on — one hand fisted in the wet sheet, the other clamped to the flexing muscle of his ass, your heels skidding down his back for purchase that wasn't there, every thrust knocking another broken little sound loose from a throat you no longer had any say over. And when you came you spasmed around him with your nails dug into the meat of his shoulders and your mouth open on a noise you'd have been embarrassed by if your brain hadn't been simmered down and reduced to nothing. He cursed and pushed his face into your throat and licked the salt off it, tongue flat against the tendon, groaning into your flesh as you fluttered and squeezed and dragged him over the edge with you.
He spilled deep with a groan you're not sure you've ever heard from him before, and then stayed there. Heavy. Crushing. His heart going hard against your chest, his breath sawing at your collarbone. Neither of you moved — both of you a single disgusting glued-together animal. Roadkill, maybe.
Underneath the slowing wreck of your own pulse, the feeling you'd been fending off since he walked through the front door finally claimed you — he was home. Your throat went tight, and you turned your face into his damp hair so he wouldn't catch the sound that squeezed out of it.
He exhaled a warm gust against your throat, then he dragged his lips to the corner of yours and kissed you — sloppy, tasting of sleep and salt and the both of you mixed past telling each other apart.
Katsuki Bakugo with an inexperienced girlfriend
MDNI, suggestive
Katsuki with an inexperienced girlfriend. He think she’s the sweetest thing ever and he didn’t even think twice on respecting her boundaries and understanding her situation. In fact, he wants to wait a while, maybe until you guys get to your first of dating before he really tries something but sometimes you’re just so unknowingly needy.
You’ve been feeling weird since the afternoon. you don’t know how it started, you were simply watching Katsuki spar with Eijirou and this weird feeling down by your stomach started to develop. You tried to drink some medicine, use a hot compress, even tried distracting yourself with your own work but the feeling only got worse.
Eventually you couldn’t handle it anymore.
It was a little past dinner when you called him.
The phone rings twice before he picks up.
“Hey doll.” Katsuki greets. Hearing his voice has the feeling in your stomach intensify and you couldn’t help but pinch your eyebrows together.
“Suki? Need your help.” You mumbled, turning over in bed.
You hear some shuffling on the other side of the call before he replies, “What’s wrong?”
“… My tummy feels weird.”
“What kinda weird baby?”
You try to explain the weird feeling as best as you can. Like a heat in your tummy that just won’t go away. Katsuki hums over the line as he listens patiently. Taking in every word.
“Mmm… Can you check something f’me doll?”
You nod your head before you realize your boyfriend can’t see you, “Yeah, I can.”
“Check if your panties are wet.” Katsuki mumbled.
“I didn’t pee myself ‘Suki.” You grumbled, cheeks flushing red from the sheer embarrassment of not just the situation but at what Katsuki was implying.
“I know baby, but just check f’me me alright? Bring your hand down and press against your panties and tell me if it’s wet.”
You do as he says and to your surprise, your panties are indeed wet. Overwhelmingly so that when you bring your hand back up there’s a bit of moisture on your fingertips.
“S’wet.” You mumbled into the phone shyly.
Katsuki hums and you can imagine him nodding his head in the way he does whenever he’s deep in thought.
“Wan’ me to come over ‘n fix it for ya?” Katsuki asked, voice low, “I can make that weird feeling go away baby.”
this is inspired by but @angelamajiki and all of her pa! clark posts but pls consider pa!clark x reader when he discovers alien tech such as portal pussys so even when space tries to separate you clark can show you how much he misses you and still take care of his baby!! I think he'd try and not tell you that its attached to you some way like pretending you its just having wet dreams and its just your body craving him, especially earlier on like trying to speed up you wanting him
ohhhh this is making me insane…thinking about him eating it out in front of you while making intense eye contact and you can’t do anything but writhe and come untouched
𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 — your boyfriend & you wanted to try something new! Why not film you getting fucked by his favorite co-star
𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 — pornstar! satoru & sukuna p in v creamepies cucking sex tapes threesome (?) & not proofread
𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 —accidentally deleted this gem; take this repost & please show her just as much love.
"C'mon, pretty girl. Smile for the camera," Sukuna growled, gripping your chin as he pistoned in and out of you, forcing your face towards your boyfriend as the white-haired man filmed the scene before him.
Satoru was clutching his phone in one hand and slowly stroking his cock with the other as he watched his co-star fuck you into a babbling mess.
Throbbing into his palm as he watched your blissed-out expression, trying to bite down each whimper and groan that threatened to leave your throat,
"I said to fucking smile." Sukuna hissed, slamming a brutal thrust into him as you clenched around him, forcing a glossy-eyed smile at your boyfriend as your walls fluttered back to normal. Sukuna groaned out, kissing your cervix with each mean thrust.
Satoru thought it was so hot.
Watching as the man he'd always filmed with was finally getting a taste of what it was like to be with you. Feeling how sweet you always were for him.
Slowly, Satoru dropped himself. Moving his palm to rub your cheek as you kissed into his skin, letting him muffle your moans for you, eyes glued to him. Watching him adjust his hold on the camera to catch Sukuna bullying himself so deeply into you.
"You okay, baby?" Satoru whispered, thumb brushing your cheek gently as Sukuna sneered. reaching over you to swat him away.
"She's fine." Sukuna snuffed, pushing your face into the pillows in front of you as he quickened his pace. "You promised you wouldn't touch her while we fucked Gojo."
"She's my girlfriend, Ryomen. I'm going to check on her if she seems out of it." Satoru stated, carefully guiding the camera back to your half-hidden face. "Even if you look so pretty out of it, Baby."
While Satoru couldn't see it, Sukuna could feel it as you clenched around him at the sound of Satoru's voice.
"Oh... look at you." Sukuna rasped, spreading your thighs as he pumped deeper into you. "You just love it when he talks to you like that, huh?"
No response was formed, just choked mewls shoved into your silk pillows as Satoru pressed his palm to your shoulder. "Oh... Naughty girl. Getting turned on while getting fucked by another man."
"You take it so well." Sukuna grunted, pulling your hips closer, bottoming out in you momentarily as a scream escaped your throat, instinctively reaching for Satoru, who nearly dropped his phone in shock.
Never, ever, had he heard such a noise leave you before.
"Are you ok?" He whispered, moving to the edge of the bed as you reached out for him.
"Just come here, Toru." You mumbled, grabbing at his hips as you dragged him to sit on the edge of the bed. "Is this a better angle for your film, baby?"
"Mm. Yeah." He assured, catching the fucked-out expression on your lips as your brows furrowed, bringing the back of your hand to your mouth, Sukuna's muscles tensing as he shoved himself deep, a low groan escaping him as white-hot pleasure swept through you both.
Slowly pulling out as the creamy mess dripped down to your sheets, Sukuna patted your shoulder gently. "You took it so well, good girl. No wonder Satoru's always bragging about you."
bf!bkg who cannot stand seeing you put yourself down when it comes to taking what you want from him.
“Kats,” you sigh. “I don’t want to…”
Bakugo interrupts you, a hand coming up to brush the hair from your face. “Baby, you’re not usin’ me. Ya earned me fair an’ square. What’s the hold up?”
You actually don’t know why you’re hesitating. Hell, Bakugo loves when you come home and are all over him, climbing into his lap and kissing his neck until he melts into the couch cushions. It actually annoys him how easy his brain shuts off the second your lips meet his skin, an instant chemical reaction.
Now? You suddenly feel guilty for ‘using’ your boyfriend — it’s stupid. You know it is, considering your thighs are clenched and all you’re doing is standing in front of him.
“Enough’a that,” Bakugo declares, his voice taking on a low rumble that makes your face flush. “I told ya, I’m keepin’ every fucking moment of you givin’ yourself to me. If you wanna use me for comfort or release or whatever the hell you’re feelin’ right now... it’s yours. I’m yours — body, mind and fuckin’ soul.”
He pauses, his arms hooking around your waist to press you against him.
“So stop askin’ permission and just fuckin’ take what’s yours."
he doesnt know if he'll ever get another chance like this, so he takes advantage... mating presses and butter churns, pinning you prone and fucking you so hard your ass is red afterward.... even on the beach he's sneaking sucks at your nipples through your bathing suit...
pope who knows his dick is big so everytime you makeout and start to put your hand on him, he pushes it away. now you just think “oh okay, he’s not ready for intimacy yet.” understandable!
but it gets to a point where one day you convince him to pull down his jeans and you see his thick, heavy cock slap against his tummy. i mean heaaaaavy, like the crimson pink tip is so big & his balls are spilling out of his boxers and he’s soooo warm.
and you’re just staring— gazing, rather. his cheeks & ears are so red and he’s avoiding eye contact nervously as his fists clench and unclench. bare assed, sitting on the bed sheet and swallowing as he pinches his mouth and looks at you… sweet, doe-eyed you. you coo “oh andrew…” in lust and he’s shakily replying “‘m just… really big, didn’t wanna scare you off… or anything.”
i searched sooo deep into h the is priv community im in bc i wrote something similar in april and i had to share after seeing this thank u miss cherry
the first few months of your guys’ relationship he wouldn’t let you touch him, wouldn’t let you suck him off bc he knew his size and didn’t want you to strain yourself. and he didn’t mind eating you out and humping against the bed, or fingering you while he palms himself down.
when you finally corner him ab it bc you just wanna make him feel good too he’s all big eyed like “we can do whatever you want baby, always. i just don’t want you to hurt yourself or hurt you.” and you’re confused bc??? it can’t be that bad.
but he gets his boxers off and it genuinely springs out like a tree hitting the ground after being cut down. literally shock all on your face, bc it’s so thick and long and pulsing and CURVED and PRETTY and “you’re staring.” oh right my fault my fault.
he’s all sweet above you as he guides you onto his dick, rubbing at the underside of your chin whispering sweet notes of “breath baby, ok? not a race,,” “calm down, don’t gotta take it all” “doin’ so good”
and as cautious as he knew he should’ve been, he’s silently cursing himself for keeping this throat from him. your eyes are rolling back once he starts thrusting into your mouth, and he’s apologizing when he fucks your throat rougher than he should as he reaches his climax.
and he’s oh so sweet and gentle in bed, even if you’re cursing him to pleeeease speed up, you’re not glass you can take it. “baby if i go too fast i could hurt you, just stay still ok?” though he’s completely locked in, almost dizzy watching you stretch around his length.
me and my girly were talking about how he’d get secretly turned on hearing you moan about how big he is and how loud you get.
he’d be red in the face, trying to tune you out but you’re scratching at his biceps, squirming under him as he rocks into you so deep it makes you drool, and practically screaming ab how u feel it in ur stomach. he can’t deal, he’s a minute away from bussing inside you.
“baby it’s-it’s not that good..” he can’t even look at you he’s so worked up, eyes to the ceiling as he slams into your hips, biting his lip each time you squeak and moan under him. “no it’s sooo good popey…you’re so big i can’t take it i feel you in my stomach” aaaand hes cumming in you so hard uncontrollably :( apologizing bc he didn’t mean to but he couldn’t help it you got him so worked up :((
katsuki with his fussy kitty hybrid who insists on giving him a thorough tongue bath every time he comes back from patrol because he smells too much like izuku or eijirou. typically, licking the side of his face makes him cringe but he’ll only pull you closer, scratch behind your ear and call you his good kitty.
sometimes he thinks you might drive him insane — you hiss at guests you aren’t to keen on ( which does make you an excellent judge of character ), you leave small creatures in soft blankets and linen for him to find because you do love katsuki even if you turn your nose u at him. you hide and prowl silently and somehow manage to tear off the bell collar he’d gotten you. you’ll put all your weight on his chest if you ever catch him lying down.
you’ve also got a crazy suckling issue ( something to do with weaning when you were young ) — so you’re always pawing at his sweat pants and sucking on his cock to help get to sleep or for comfort. more often than not, you’ll curl at the end of his bed each night… only for bakugou to wake up half hard with the crotch of his sleep pants completely soaked through with saliva. purring loud through the quiet night.
he doesn’t push you away, just has his fingers caress their way to the back of your head in order to hold you still. shuffles all the fabrics down to grasp at his cock and carefully guides his tip past the gentle drooly opening of your lips tiredly to help you along.
“atta girl, now watch your teeth.” he rasps, voice roped together by sleep.
you do as told, chest rumbling in content — easing back on the fangs that graze his shaft if you’re not mindful.
bakugou oftentimes pretends it’s a hassle to have a clingy cat like you, one who ruins the sofa and the walls and would rather scratch him that the perfectly respectable and expensive scratching post he had sought out just for you. though, when you look up at katsuki in the night, mouth full of precum and drool, pupils eclipsing the colour in your eye from how much they’ve dilated — katsuki doesn’t mind it so much.
when he’s sitting there with his thick thighs spread, shamelessly rubbing and pulling at the bulge in his pants as you step closer, like he needs you to see just how crazy you make him without even touching him
🏁 ꒰ ✩ smut ⋆ mdni ⋆ pro hero izuku midoriya & fem!reader. oral sex, somnophilia, established relationship, dom and sub dynamics, care taker izuku. -> izuku implements a seven step nightly routine that always ends with the taste of you on his tongue.
nightly routine with izuku includes a shower together where he scrubs you clean n puts a hand between your legs ton wash you up but he doesn’t touch you and pretends … pretends not to notice the way your thighs quiver around his wrist or how you reach back to curl your fingers in his hair for stability. sudsy kisses pressed on your shoulders and soapy digits splayed against your tummy to keep you still. “gotta make sure you’re squeaky clean, hm baby?”
then he oils and moisturises you up before bed, he’s already picked out your PJs — something that smells like baby detergent, clean and lacy and barely there and you know what the fabric means and he just pretends that they’re ordinary jammies. big scarred hands working through the knots in your body, squeezing and tugging on your thighs and the fat at your hips and thumbs pressing into your nipples and even still — izuku will smile as though nothing is happening, nothing is going to happen. playing with you, toying with his sweet baby who grows sleepier by the second.
you’re already drifting by the time izuku pulls away from your embrace, an iron grip not quite iron when he’s so easily able to break free. he’s over you, a finger to his lips making a shhhh sound when you whine because he’s not going anywhere, not really, shimmying his way down your torso — tongue circling your belly button, hot kisses against your warm flesh. “sleepy time, baby, don’t make a fuss,” he hums, because you will attempt to kick your feet and bring izuku back up for cuddles. “hands to yourself please.”
so you sling your arms over your sleepy face and let him draw your knees up to a bend, his teeth already grazing at your swollen clit from over your sweet little boy shorts. pulse erratic just like your heartbeat which is no where near calm enough to sleep. “miss you, come back.”
“don’t be a silly girl, ‘m right here,” deku’s voice pinches and peaks with condescension. the sound rumbles through your syrupy, tortured cunt — clenching around nothing, self-lubricating as she lies in wait for your boyfriend’s fingers or tongue. you’ve been waiting all day to be touched properly, the teasing and the taunting putting you on the edge where you toe the line between heaven and hell. “relax for me, let’s go to sleep — yeah?”
slick glues the seam of your shorts to your aching, vacant hole as izuku carefully peels them away, tucking one leg behind your pudgy pussy lips. clear and stringy between your folds — tantalisingly good enough to eat, and while the position of your clothing is awkward and uncomfortable, it’s irritation is minuscule in size when compared to that first stroke of his tongue against you. curling at your clit, knocking the little nub from side to side. slurping sounds slip between moans of gluttony, that mimics that of a man sheathing himself inside his partner raw for the first time.
jaded eyes sparked with a mischievous or borderline evil emerald peek from over your stomach, rising and falling with heavy breathing that only comes with someone losing consciousness to sleep. “lift your hips, c’mon pup,” he coos, slack jaw, words breathy whilst he tongues at your quivering entrance — carefully thrusting along your silken walls. you slowly begin to obey, rocking upwards and bowing into his eager open mouth. “look at that, there we go. you listen so well.”
your body does. only to him. as soon as you’re up, nimble fingers slide up to the base of your spine and hold you in place — against the mouth that works on you until you’re drenched and dripping down his chin. the flex of his jaw, as he drinks you down as though you’re aged whisky. rare. a treat undeserved by a mere man such as himself.
“baby, tell me about your day.” izuku drawls like a man lost without water for days, pausing for air, lapping at the wet inner crease of your thigh where spit and arousal marry to become one.
he latches onto you, while you find mental strength to mumble about your day plans. sucks a swollen fold between perfect white teeth, sending blood flow straight down south. “was good — mmnph — got my nails done ‘n went shoppin’…” the hero keeps you talking until you’re hazy, heated and half a second away from sinking into sleep. blinking away the blur that fades the edges of your vision, pleasure melding with exhaustion — you meet eyes and they’re already on you as though he hasn’t given a thought to look away from your parted lips and bobbing throat. just as you open your mouth to continue, his tongue laps at your candied cunt and squirms into you, pressing against the gushy, gummy spot nestled deep within. “oh, oooh! got somethin’ new for you.”
and you’re so sweet, god you are. in taste and in physical form. izuku gets the kind joy from you as a kid would at a candy store — static straight to his brain when you whimper into night’s humid blanket and squeeze your thighs around his head. arousal seeping through your sleep shorts to fuel him on as you pour your chalice straight into his mouth.
“for me? god, ‘m a lucky guy. aren’t i? can’t wait to see it…” he chuckles, almost humbly. words nestled against your soaked slit like a promise of other worldly ecstasy. a whisper in the wind, a heart shaped signature against your clit. “i think i want you to cum now, angel. nice and hard, let your body unwind. give me all you can.”
you listen again, every fibre and nerve ending in your body following izuku’s command like a dog who’s well trained and knows her tricks off by heart. at this point, you’ve barely any strength or will to stay awake. the stars align and moon flashes bright behind your drawn curtains — you cum against greedy lips and a tongue that smooths over your sluice sex like a salve, blacking out and falling victim to the soothing voice of sleep.
“lights out, baby,” izuku coos through the after shocks, all in a days work for his pretty baby.
end ! likes are appreciated, but just liking doesn’t do much on tumblr! to support and motivate myself and other writers, reply, reblog and comment if you'd like to see more!! — asks are open to thirsts and thoughts! join my taglist ! love you!
I LOVE YOUR YUJI WORKS and i see u love yuji sm sm sm and i’m here to share a little earworm cuz it’s got me in a chokehold
yuji in boxers… like…. those tight boxers that don’t do anything to hide his outline……
AAUFHFHFHF FAT COCK YUJI
✩꒱ tighty whities — ft. yuuji itadori .ᐟ
🏁 ꒰ ✩ smut ⋆ mdni ⋆ characters are adults. yuuji itadori & fem!reader. handjobs, big dick yuuji, counting the inches, roommates to lovers -> every once in a while yuuji pulls out his tightest, teeniest pair of underwear and every once in a while you’re curious enough to see what they’re hiding.
thank you sm friend! i love him so much i want to live between his heart and lungs sooo bad idk what this is im feeling Lustful.
yes yes yuuji in those sickening tight white undies. i feel like perhaps he bought them by mistake and only wears them when he’s out of his usual boxers. super tight, hugging the slender curve of his waist and perfectly outlining his girth even though it’s tucked away. you can clearly see whenever he leaks through them because the thin white fabric stretched over the meatiest parts of him barely conceals anything. a darkness patch at the seam always gives yuuji away.
he’d be kind of embarrassed about them, constantly adjusting himself around you, shifting because his balls are practically bursting through the threads. if you’re roommates or best friends, you’ve definitely seen them in the wash or the laundry you do together and he always snatches them up with blatantly obvious red cheeks because they’re stupidly small for him.
and for a while, you think that yuuji really is that small.
until you hear the way his short-term flings cry his name in bed like it’s the only prayer they know. until you start listening out for the quiet, whimpering praise he offers them when they take all of him so well, inch by inch like good girls.
one girl stops you by the fridge one morning, yuuji’s shirt clinging to her curves and covering the fingerpad shaped bruises on her hips. “i don’t know how you live with him without jumping his bones,” she’d giggled, reaching for your milk. “he’s got the whole package, you know?”
you start looking at itadori a little differently. your eyes fall from his face to his print when you greet him after work or in the mornings when he’s back from the gym — attempting to discern the type of underwear he’s wearing based on what shows through his sweats. and you’ve always been touchy with each other, you’re friends and he’s great for cuddles, but now when you’re relegated to his lap during movie nights with fushiguro and his girlfriend, todo and nobara, oh! and maki and yuuta — you can feel the difference in his girth pressed against every time he shifts.
when he’s got those little tight boxers on that struggle to contain his hard on. the one you both ignore.
it’s one of those same movie nights where you cross boundaries for the first time. nobara stays over, too drunk to go home and be on her own, so you offer up your room and hunker down with yuuji because todo’s got the couch this time. in the mix, you some how manage to convince your pink haired roommate that you sleep better when he’s around. not just because he sleeps naked, you know this — you’ve been waiting on it just to see if the rumours are true.
yuuji scratches the back of his neck sheepishly with a soft blooming blush as you undress for bed and you try not to be obvious when your eyes trace the hardlines of his body right down to his crotch. those stupid tight white boxers you can’t seem to ignore now.
“sorry, know it’s a lot.” because you keep staring and he keeps twitching underneath the fabric and you have no idea how to tell him he’s making your mouth water. “i can put some sweats on—?”
you’re all too eager when shake your head no. “i-it’s your room. sleep however you’re most comfortable!”
naturally you end up snuggled with itadori in bed. surrounded by him. an excuse to be close. yuuji in nothing but those evil little boxers and you in morning but his shirt. your face in his neck for safety from the horror movie you’re watching and his arm loose around your waist. and you really can’t help it, when his cock is sitting there all fat and heavy and weepy, kicking because the air in the room is against his feverish skin — your fingers dance down to the waist band playfully at first. you’re touchy. friends do this… but then they hit the sinful swirl of his pink happy trail and everything shifts.
lust starts to bubble within your eyes, usually so sweet and innocent. you just have to know if he feels as big as he looks in them.
yuuji exhales shakily. not looking at you. “you’re not watching the movie, are you?”
a hint. a chance. you take it. “can i touch it?” your ask is a breathless whisper — as light as summer’s breeze and barely there. like a figure in the night. touch him, rub on him, do everything you’ve been thinking about for months.
he’s already straining, clenched at the abdomen to keep himself from cumming from the friction against his inner seam. yet he grows under your inquisitive attention, throbbing in a dull rhythm that calls up your greed as though it were following the beating lull of a siren’s song.
yuuji’s cheeks glow warm in the dimness, a rose tinted flame in the dark. he swallows. “if you wanna… j-just be careful, yeah?”
that’s all it takes.
his head tips back in a filthy shameful moan — pink hair askew like the flutter of petals — and his throat bobs as he swallows down a flurry of curse words once your hand slips past the waistband. your grip curiously stretches the tightness of boxers as your tiny hand wraps around his fat girth. sticky, pulsing with arousal, prominent veins forming indents in your palm.
“you feel so big, yuuji,” your nose brushes his pulse point with the same gentleness you would with your lips for a kiss. it’s as if you’re trying to inhale his life force, tuck yourself impossibly closer. he feels swollen in your hand, cock beating as unsteadily as his heart, and he oozes premature white into the crevices of your finger prints. “sensitive too.”
“nngh, i know,” whilst itadori’s hips jump without his control and forces his length through your first, the weight of his crown drops to yours. the two of you share a view, your slippery hand in his near-see-through boxers doused with slick and precum beading from his sappy mushroomed tip. “s-sorry, fuck. ‘m just so hard and you’re so pretty and you smell so good.” he admits to you quietly in a high pitched whine, like a secret exchanged between two lovers at a rendezvous point. for your ears only. no one else gets to know how wrecked you have him.
the bulbous head of his cock is raw and red, shiny, as it peaks out from the elasticated band of his boxers — only because you’ve stroked him to full hardness. he no longer fits in the fabric. you thumb him there in comforting circles, spreading his arousal in the same manner that drool spreads across your tongue.
long, dark lashes flutter against your forehead like angel’s kisses and you squeeze around every inch that slides through your hold — sharing airy moans the more yuuji leaks against your tight knuckles. “you could make me cum like this, y-y’know? in my boxers like a — fuck — like a teenager,” yuuji stutters, chasing words that don’t make sense on his tongue. hips running after the solace your soft strokes. “makes me feel so filthy, but i’ve been waiting for you. t-to notice? how badly i’ve wanted it to be you touching me like this. i’d do anything for you. anything, baby girl.”
his honesty turns and twists your guts into feverish knots.
“then will you?” you purr artlessly. eyes on the string of drooly white leaking from his sensitive tip. “wanna see how much you cum too.”
“god yes, i can cum. i’ll cum for you. just —!” yuuji’s large hand slips around your wrist and he guides you. helps you tug on the parts of his dick that make him gargle and struggle for breath. he bucks upwards, chasing pleasure and the heavenly solace your fist has to offer. “that’s it, just like that. make me cum, been waiting for so long.”
you’re in awe of it all. the ripple of his abs as he thrusts, the way moans coil in between the letters of your name as they leave his lips. you touch yuuji like you were made for it, jerk him off as though it were instinct. squeezing him every time his hips draw back, circling his tip over and over in languid runs of your thumb around the world.
he takes that as a sign, permission to let go of the unravelling knot he’s been trying to hold together since first laying beside you. on instinct, like his body knows nothing else, he squeezes you tight against him — cheek smooshed against your crown, shaky loud and whimpers in your ear that have your own underwear damp and he snaps.
like a twig with little resistance to pressure.
“oh my god — baby, shit!”
yuuji’s release is sizeable, viscous like lava flow as it rockets hotly up his abdomen and pools amongst the ridges of his abs and belly button. white against gold. his underwear is positively soiled all the way through, crude stringy cum gathering amongst his balls and your wriggling fingers as you jerk him through his high. where his back bows towards the ceiling as though the heavens have come to collect his sweet soul and his thighs shake like his foundations are unsteady.
and even after all that, all the ropes of hot white that hit his skin — he’s still hard and swollen, monstrous in size that suddenly dawns on you as yuuji rolls you onto your back. landing on top.
his shoulders, as they heave, block out the glow of the movie playing behind him — crowding you against the pillows, acting as a shield to hide you away from the world and you feel him heavy against your tummy. cold with slick but heated with arousal at the same time.
your roommate grins, buzzing and slow. “how many inches is the biggest dick you’ve ever taken?”
“i don’t… know? i’ve never measured?” you squeak, suddenly flushed with a delicious mix of horniness and fear. “why?”
yuuji clicks his tongue then, big hand sliding up your face to cover your mouth — his free one guiding his erection between your now parted thighs.
“just wondering, how much of me you’ll be able to take tonight.”
end ! likes are appreciated, but just liking doesn’t do much on tumblr! to support and motivate myself and other writers, reply, reblog and comment if you'd like to see more!! — asks are open to thirsts and thoughts! join my taglist ! love you!
