Dry humping with Katsuki on the beach under the stars and he growls he could just slip these to the side and slip it in and his breath is humid against your throat before he's back to pressing his tongue past your teeth
🏁 ꒰ ✩ smut ⋆ mdni ⋆ characters are adults. boyfriend!megumi fushiguro and fem!reader. established relationship, somnophilia, pussy jobs, clothed sex, free use, cum play. ꒰ gumi decides that getting you off feels best when you’re asleep and dreaming. ꒱
megumi likes them most when you’re too tired for a proper fucking. he crawls over you while you sleep and shrouds you in his shadow — wide shoulders kissed by moonlight that hide you from the eclipse — his fingers soft against your hips like the gentle twinkle of stars in the distance as he presses your knees into your shoulders.
“easy, baby girl, s’just me,” his voice is hoarse with crumbling restraint, weighed down in his throat by his insatiable greed. sweatpants have long since been rolled down and nestled under balls that twitch with a brilliant and impending load. megumi’s cock his heavy against your stomach — the head vibrant red whilst it oozes pre onto the frilly waistband of your panties.
at first — he smacks himself against your clothed core, prodding at your hole which he craves the energy to fill. for now, megumi makes it work. he finds that he adores the white cotton undergarments you wear. frilly with a delicate pink bow just under your navel. he doesn’t take them off. too fond of the decoration to his sin. he doesn’t even tuck them to the side, he slides himself through the loop of fabric at your leg and thrusts. careful, tentative, and slow as if to make you really feel it. prominent veins pulsing where they meet your beating clit.
you stir cutely, calling his name as if to greet him in your dream. megumi kisses the crease between your brows — soothing, attentive. “i’ve got you, let me make you feel good.”
claggy, syrupy sounds cling to the cool night, arousal catching on megumi’s shaft with each pass through your sopping mound. you’ve probably no idea how wet you are, tendrils of sleep woven around your mind — making you pliant and perfect for him. he hisses when you clench around nothing but catch on every part of him, aching to be filled with his length.
the gusset of your soft cotton panties darken in the exchange of slick and precum — the gooey strands forming a strong web where he ends and you begin. much like the rise of your sun and the fall of his moon, the cycle of pleasure is endless and it embraces you even in deep slumber. his hips draw back, pearlescent and slender, and his mushroomed tip slips beneath the scalloped edge of your underwear once more. using nimble fingers and a gentle grip as to not spark any over-sensitivity — fushiguro takes hold of himself, his curved lengthy shaft bobbing in between nimble digits, for better leverage. rubbing his milky oozing head back and forth over your arousal beading nub.
occasionally he dips past the tight ring of your entrance, shuddering at your iron grip — pride tingling within the gap between brain and his skull at how selfishly you lock down on him even when you’re not awake to show the world.
he’ll always count his lucky stars that you’re so eager, so willing to let him have you as he sees fit. awake or asleep your precious pussy belongs to him. in the depths of your consciousness she craves him, it’s obvious in the way your hips canter upwards to meet megumi’s as your high approaches like rushing rapids. the manner in which your back bows towards the night sky — forcing his chest to yours as though you are trying to fuse your heartbeats into one.
“so good to me. so fucking good.” megumi coos under his breath, hidden beneath his aerated moans because he cums not too long after. limbs wobbly with his collapse on top of you imminent. his weight your shaky, sleepy frame is accompanied a shot of translucent, viscous white into the seat of your panties. the flood swirling with heated gush of nectar from your abused slit. all of it smears lewdly through your abused folds, white on your sensitive clit in the form of his signature.
lashes kiss your cheeks and neck whilst megumi steadies himself in the scent of sex and warmth of your skin. his breath shattered and mystified against you.
“i can be even better,” you murmur to him, feeling him flinch in surprise when your fingers curl in midnight locks at the nape of his neck — roused by the cooling mess between your thighs. “if you cum inside next time.”
all megumi can do is groan — hungry and appreciative because you really are always so ready for him.
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!
☰ SYNOPSIS ⋮ gojo satoru has ruined your best friend’s life—and you’re about to make it a whole lot worse yourself ; part 2 here
— pairing ⋮ gojo satoru x reader
— length ⋮ 2.1k words
— contents ⋮ nsfw and 18+ content, fem! reader, mentions of betrayal (gojo is your best friend’s ex and you fuck him), (slight) mutual pining, toxic! gojo, lovesick! gojo, (slightly) mean! gojo, car sex, light choking, edging, unprotected sex, praise, creampie
— notes ⋮ this is for my soulmate @bxnten 's burn book collab <3 we r mean girls to everyone but each other hehe ily kitty cat <33
gojo satoru is a sleazy, backstabbing, knife-twisting, and heartbreaking asshole. he has little regard for others, doesn’t bother to ponder the weight of his actions, acts as though the world revolves around him, and you’re sick of him—or so you tell yourself.
he’s made your friend’s life hell, really. he’s made her cry, made her question her worth, made her sacrifice things she shouldn’t have to, made her so unhappy, that you can’t help but wish you could punch him in his (perfect) teeth. you tell yourself you’re sick of picking up phone calls that turn into hours worth of tearful rants, and you tell yourself you’re sick of being haunted by his cocky smirk as he shoots you a wink in the back of your mind. it’s how any good friend would feel—any good friend would look at him and wish he’d drop dead on the spot for all the times he’s fucked up.
but you suppose you’re not half as good of a friend as you once thought you were—maybe you’re not as fiercely loyal as you gave yourself credit for. because what kind of friend would be sprawled on the backseat of the ex’s car that they’re supposed to hate? what kind of a friend would cling desperately to the same man they’ve said probably has a small dick anyway, drunk on the drag of his cock? what kind of friend would ever think about getting with their friend’s ex—let alone actually do it?
you, apparently.
“that feel good, sweetheart?” he chuckles, hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing lightly. your head spins at the cut-off of oxygen, a shaky gasp falling off your lips as your stare up at him. gojo chuckles, loosening his grip, kissing away the stray tears on your cheek as you whimper at the shallow thrust of his hips. “you like when i do this, huh? like when i fuck you like this? bet you like me, don’t you?” he grins cheekily.
he’s an asshole.
a horrible, heartless, selfish, insensitive, and self-absorbed asshole. but his cock drags along your walls so good, the stretch making your mind fog and your back arch until your chests meet, your nipples brushing against his through the fabric and making you both groan.
“act like you hate me so bad, but i bet you were just mad, huh? are you mad i didn’t pick you first, is that it?” he pouts, squeezing your cheeks together and leaving you with no choice but to look at him as he presses his forehead to yours.
but you’re stubborn, you have been since you first met. you refuse to shake his hand when he first offers it, refuse to be on civil terms when he third wheels hangouts, and refuse to apologize first after any arguments that might stir. and you’re stubborn now too, closing your eyes to have some level of power of your own against him—but he only chuckles, bringing his hips to a stop and gritting his teeth as he feels the burn of his orgasm die down.
you whine, buck your hips, and open your eyes as you stare at him confused, “what the fuck? why’d you—”
“asked you a question, sweetheart,” he sneers, hand finding its way down to your clit, rubbing slow, agonizing circles that have you whining as your head tosses back.
“p-please, gojo—need it—”
“uh uh,” he drawls, that annoying, infuriating, and sickeningly smug little smile on his face as he looks down at you, “you gotta answer my question. then i’ll give you what you want,” he pats your cheek. “you wish i picked you, don’t you baby?”
“no,” you spit, glaring at him harshly, “you’re a fucking asshole. you don’t care about anyone’s feelings but your own, and you couldn’t love someone if your life depended on it. fucking dickhead—” you cut yourself off with a squeal when his fat tip slams into you all of a sudden, right against your spot, making your arms wrap tightly around his neck as your legs hook around his waist.
you’re clinging to him desperately by now, sobbing with every harsh roll of his hips, crying out every time his navel bumps along your clit and pulls you closer and closer to your orgasm. gojo’s jaw is clenched, his hands gripping your hips so tight, you almost think there’ll be bruises by the time he’s done. your slick and his pre cum leaves a messy ring at the base of his dick and a trail down the inner sides of your thighs, and maybe if he wasn’t so angry, he’d have made a cheeky comment about how wet you are.
“oh yeah, is that right? i don’t care about feelings? i can’t love someone?” he laughs, but there’s not a trace of amusement in his tone—it’s so condescending, so mean, you have to fight back tears. “you’re the best friend. i’m just an ex. wait till she finds out just how much you care,” he spits, venom lacing his tone as you gasp, shaky and just a little scared. it satisfies him maybe a tad bit too much. “i bet she’ll be thrilled to hear how lost on my cock you get, always beggin’ for more—aren’t you just a greedy little thing?”
“n-no,” you gasp, clutching onto his shirt tightly, fighting the wobble of your lips at the thought. “you can’t. you can’t! please, gojo, you can’t tell her, sh-she…she’ll never speak to me again a-and—”
“aw, don’t cry sweetheart,” he laughs, and his hips are slamming into your abused cunt mercilessly now, making your walls flutter around him as he lets out a low grunt, moaning against your ear—and he sounds so pretty, so sweet and divine and perfect, it makes your skin prickle with goosebumps.
you almost understand why it took your friend as long as it did to finally leave him.
“please, gojo,” you sniffle, teary eyes staring up at him pleadingly. it makes his heart jump, makes his heart ache a little deep in his chest.
because you’re wrong. he isn’t always an asshole, and he does care sometimes—in fact, he always cares when it’s about you. gojo satoru thinks he’d let the sun bleed out if he had to, as long as he has your smile to brighten his days for as long as he lives. because you’re wrong, he can love—and he loves you desperately.
he never wanted to fall in love with his girlfriend’s best friend. never wanted to be a shallow man with even shallower intentions, but who could hear your laugh and see your smile and not fall head over heels? it makes him mad—hurts deep in his chest and aches so bad, that he thinks you’re almost bad for his health. you don’t bat an eyelash at him, don’t even wanna be around him for longer than you have to be—and yet, he wants you by his side for longer than eternity. he can’t help but wish he met you first, can’t help but hate the universe for being so cruel, so heartless for making him find the one person he wants more than anything like this.
he wants you badly, and the worst part is even if you want him too, you’d never let yourself indulge in something as retched as a betrayal—even if technically, you already have the second his cock sank into you.
so he presses a gentle kiss between your brows, leaves a trail of kisses along your cheek and jaw, and he hovers over your lips. “i won’t tell,” he mumbles against them, making your breath hitch in shock, “won't say a word if you call me toru, yeah? jus’ say toru, just once, yeah? i gotta hear it.”
“promise?” you sniffle, “you promise you won’t tell?”
“promise,” he agrees with a nod, and he even holds out a pinky to seal the deal. a soft grin spreads across his lips when your own pinky hooks around his, the warmth of your touch, as small as it might be, lighting him up until he feels like his chest is pressed with the weight of the sun.
“kay,” you mumble, “need more, toru—please, gimme more,” you beg, and his name tastes so sweet rolling off your tongue, so saccharine it almost feels like it’s dripped with honey, trickling past your lips and rolling down your chin for him to kiss off. it makes your head spin that you never want to say gojo again now that you’ve gotten a taste of toru.
with a shaky exhale against your mouth at the sound of his name, he pulls you into a hungry kiss, desperate and needy and just a little starved. his cock is aching by now, throbbing in your dripping core, balls heavy and ready to release as he rolls his hips faster into you. his skin slaps against yours, the slick sound of his cock bullying into your wet cunt filling the small space of his car, his body towering over you in the cramped back seat. he lets his hand find the soft flesh of the back of your thigh, hoisting your leg over his shoulder as he angles himself deeper into you, letting out a strangled cry when your walls flutter around him tightly.
“fuck, that’s it—g-gonna be the death o’ me, sweetheart,” he grunts, “so good, takin’ me so well, yeah? so fuckin’ tight,” he rasps. his thumb finds your clit once more, rubbing harsh circles and watching entranced as tears spill past your lash line, staining your cheeks with a soft, wet glisten that makes his heart squeeze and his chest tighten. “god, you’re so perfect, so pretty. my pretty girl,” he coos, “my. pretty. girl,” each word is followed by a sharp thrust, and the slam of his tip against your sweet spot, and the way he sounds so possessive as he claims you as his makes your back arch and your nails dig into his skin through his shirt.
“toru, toru, ‘m close—please, ‘m so close—”
“i know, baby,” he pants, moaning into your neck as his head buries into the small space, breath fanning against your skin and making you shiver. “‘m close too, gonna cum—fuck, you’re gonna make me cum,” he whines.
“fuck—toru, toru, ‘m…‘m cumming,” you scream, your orgasm crashing over your body, making your arms wrap around him tightly as you cling to him and sob. your walls spasm around him erratically, the sound of your mewls as you cry his name pushing him into his own release.
his head digs into your shoulder, his body trembling over yours as he lets his hips slam into you sloppily, thick ribbons of cum painting your walls white as you feel his cock twitch with every rope.
“oh fuck, baby, that’s it—sh-shit, feels so good,” he pants, “g-god you’re somethin’ else, should’ve…should’ve picked you. it should’ve been you—god, i love you,” he babbles into your skin, too overwhelmed by the pleasure burning through his spine as he fucks you both through your highs to even realize the words he’s admitted or the way you stiffen in his arms.
he pulls out and stares at the mess between your legs for a moment, watching as his cum drips down your legs in thick streams. a small bit of pride bubbles up in his chest at the sight before he slumps his body over yours, head digging back into your neck and his lips pressing a soft kiss to your skin.
“we can’t keep doing this,” you mumble, but your hand still finds its way to his hair, stroking through the strands gently. it feels right, like this is how it was always supposed to be—like this is how it should be.
your words make his arms tighten around you, and gojo presses more weight against your body—like the more he presses into you, the longer he can spend in your arms.
“sure we can,” he says stubbornly, “i promised i won’t tell,” he insists, voice lilting into what you think is borderline desperate—desperate to keep you here, where you’re his, where it doesn’t matter if he found you first or if he found you last.
he found you, and that’s all he needs.
“but—”
“i won’t tell if you don’t,” he pleads, “you’re still mine, baby.”
and there’s a buzzing of your phone from the front seat, but you ignore it, letting your arms wrap tighter around his figure as you kiss the side of his head—and for a second, as bad of a friend as it might cause you to be, you think what someone doesn't know can’t possibly hurt them.
Um I’m obsessed with morning sex bkg so him coming to your place after like an 18 hour patrol in the morning and being so horny and sweaty and needy and just 😫 putting u through the mattress is so perfect
BIG REACTION.
bakugou loves getting a reaction out of you.
what’s coming up: smut, fluff, annoying bkg, established relationship, teasing, p in v, touching your clit, protected sex
this was written when i was taking requests. i am not now. it has been a WHILE since i have written smut.
“where’s the key i made you?”
one of the first things bakugou learnt about you, very early on in your relationship is that you are not a morning person. when he suggested a morning hike, you screwed up your face and refused. maybe an afternoon one? when he would sleep over and play his four am morning alarm loud enough to wake you both up, that was enough for you to consider breaking up with him.
but now you open your front door, complete in your pyjamas which consists of an oversized tshirt with his face on it and the capitalised lettering of DYNAMIGHT right underneath. it’s old merchandise he sold a few years back that you insist is your comfiest tee. you’re barefooted, no slippers which is proof he dragged you from your bed all disjointed and your bonnet lays atop your head lopsided. incredibly cute. but aside from his own snarling face looking back at him, he’s got your pretty face twisted in one too.
“it’s six am, kats.” you huff, opening the door wider to let him stomp in, head to toe in his hero gear.
he’s careful not to track any mud or dirt when he steps onto your doormat. he’s quick to take off his uniform, his dirty armour and multiple layers, all while you stand with your arms crossed, staring at him with sleep in your eyes and creases all over your cheeks. you’re having a halfhearted strop.
it’s at this point he decides what he wants.
“i fuckin’ know. i just did an eighteen hour.” he replies, looking to your pouted lips to how your t-shirt rides up with your crossed arms. you’re always so soft when you’re sleepy. “i left my keys at the agency. i forgot to pick them up.”
he wonders if you’re wearing panties.
bakugou pulls off his black kevlar long sleeve, leaving him in his twaron black tank top. then he sniffs, looks to the hem of your tee, “you wearin’ panties under that?”
you roll your eyes, tutting loud and annoyed. “no ‘good morning baby.’ no, ‘you look so beautiful this morning. sorry for waking you up.’ you’re asking if i have panties on. i should kick you out on the street.”
bakugou’s smirk grows, he can deal with you pissy in the morning. in fact, this is exactly how he wants you. looking at him like he’s dirt on the bottom of your shoe, ready to slap him across his face for being crude.
he’s missed you. he wants you.
you eye his golden biceps. muscled and juicy in his tight thick tank. the bulletproof material hugs his pectorals, every ab and points his nipples. you ignore your name tattooed in cursive on his collarbone, the first and last letters peeking out of either side of his left strap. there’s leftover black eye makeup under his eyebrow and sweet sweat all over his body that makes him look similar to a glazed doughnut. he pull off his trousers last, leaving him in these black shorts he wears underneath. you can see his thighs tense as he lands back on both feet, his stupid thigh tattoo being revealed for a split second before hiding beneath the fabric.
bakugou should be exhausted after working for eighteen hours straight, he usually is. but fuck, if you don’t give him a new lease of life.
“good morning my sweet baby,” he coos, almost mockingly, just enough syrup laced in the words to keep you looking at him, albeit still frowning. he steps in closer to you, fingers gripping your chin, “been thinkin’ about you.”
you look up, head tilted in his grasp expectantly. he should be kissing you, right smack on your lips as a hello, maybe even an apology for waking you up.
instead, you follow his ruby pupils as they flicker over your face. lastly, staring at your lips. not kissing them. you hate how easily your body reacts to his proximity after how long he’s been yours, after him being so annoying.
your heart races when you can feel the heat of his body beaming onto your shorter one. you relax at the touch of his hand, any second now and you’re about to lean into his palm. you hate how even the sweaty smell of working on the streets, lingers loudly and warms you from the centre out. you’re one big reactive nerve for your boyfriend, ready to jump and rub up on him like a cat in heat.
“sorry for wakin’ you from your beauty sleep, princess,” he bends in closer to you, his pretty face right in yours. plucked eyebrows, shaven face, a streak of dirt on his cheek. then he smirks, slow and sexy, “is that enough for you?”
at that, you yank out of his grip, slapping his hand off your face. “why are you being so annoying?” you whine, spinning around to go back to your bedroom. “don’t follow me!”
bakugou’s always been good with following rules but he’s choosing not to today. he bounces after you, right on your tail as you push open the door to your bedroom.
your crumpled white bedsheets, one side lifted over from where you were laying before. there’s a box of condoms on the side of your bed he claimed, left from the last time he was around.
“nuh-uh, i meant it. sorry for wakin’ you. i know you hate mornin’s,” he brushes his lips against your ear when he speaks, his hands finding your waist and he’s not surprised by how you lean into him.
“you need to go shower, stinky,” you mumble with a pout.
despite everything, you’re a fool for his attention.
“i will, i will,” he mumbles, slowly pushing you back onto your bed.
you fall back with ease, head on your pillow and bakugou climbs over on top of you. he’s got one of his knees between yours, hands on either side of your shoulders.
you adjust your hips to wrap your legs around his waist and ignoring his own face on your tee, he looks between your legs.
“ah, so you do have panties on,” he grins, hooking his finger on the fabric at your hip and pinging it to your skin.
you slap his hand, still in a mood, “ouch, idiot. obviously, i do.”
your fiery glare serves as loving warmth and heat at bakugou’s crotch. your eyebrows are furrowed yet your legs tighten around his waist. your fingers fiddle with his clothes, adjusting his tank making sure the straps are equal. you’re fighting against him with that cute little pout. bakugou likes when you’re about to snap, he hardly gets you like this.
“y’gonna let me take ‘em off, beautiful?” he plays, rubbing his thumbs over the fabric of them, your pubic hair peeping out the top.
you pinch his bronzed side, “no. say sorry and greet me properly.”
bakugou grunts a laugh, both hands finding your hips and pulling you to his crotch. he notices how you inhale at the feel of his thickness, blink a few extra times.
“i’m not sorry for wakin’ you up. i wanted to see you,” bakugou knows the rules. happy life, happy wife. agree with everything your girlfriend says. but he’s in the mood to push, play with you a little.
you stifle a yawn beneath your palm at the same time birds chime outside. the morning sun is peeping out below your curtains and in this moment, you’re both levelled with how quiet it is.
“say sorry for forgetting your keys and making me climb out of bed to get you.”
“but then i wouldn’t have you and your little attitude lookin’ like you wanna bite me.”
you flick his forehead, your voice in need of some water this early, “so this is an attempt to seduce me? annoying me out of my panties?”
bakugou shakes his head with a grin, his hair thick with the grime of the day. “i don’t needa seduce you anymore. i bet i could slide right in. i bet you want me to.”
you shake your head, crossing your arms over your chest. you refuse to touch him but your legs stay put.
“not true. we aren’t kids in a playground. you don’t have to be mean because you have a crush on me.”
“more than a crush. i love you,” he breathes, ducking into your neck to lay a few kisses down. he kisses a trail up to your jaw, lightly biting down on your skin. the angle pushes his cock between your legs and you fight the urge to grind up into him.
“you haven’t even kissed me hello,” you whine, gritting your teeth. “you’ve been mean to me.”
he lays a kiss to the corner of your lips. “is that all my baby wants? just a kiss?”
he’s got you all softened, he knows it. your eyes turn down at the edges, your lips keep twitching every time his face gets closer, your arms wrap around his neck to keep him close.
you nod slowly, “i’ve been telling you.”
“yeah? sorry, baby. it’s been a long day, f’me,” bakugou grins against your lips before slotting his over yours.
he focuses on your bottom lip. sucking your flesh until it’s tender, feeling all your limbs tighten around him and your hips rub against his cock. you’re so reactive when you’re sleepy, like your body is just acting on need and instinct.
once he gets a long sweet moan out of you, complete with a cute, “kats,” bakugou tilts his head to slink his tongue into your mouth. it’s wet, messy and slow. he works you like you’re a puzzle to unwind, to get you as relaxed as possible so he can fuck you back to sleep. you let him take control, all the fight slowly spilling out of your body.
it’s you that’s needy now, his plan all coming together.
he licks around your mouth. sucks on your tongue in order to draw a few more moans from you. you twitch beneath him, fingers grabbing at his tank top.
“kats, please,” you whine, spit connecting your lips to his.
bakugou kisses it away. he rumbles against you, gives you a grind against your core in return. it gets your back arching, a gasp pulled out of your throat.
“what, baby?” he grunts, so sure his arousal has taken over his face. “say it to me.”
“take off my panties. let me feel you,” you say loud and clear, never shy about your needs. bakugou’s always loved that about you, especially in the early days when he could never spit the words out.
bakugou works quickly, lifting your hips to grab your comfy floral panties. he pulls them up off your legs and he wants to stare at you, needy and ready for him but he’s distracted by something, “might need you to take off the tee too. don’t wanna be lookin’ at my face when i’m lovin’ you.”
you look down at his crumpled face, mid cursing in his hero uniform on your tee. “don’t wanna. it’s cold.” you pull up the fabric, resting it all on your breasts to reveal your stomach. “there.”
bakugou grunts, shoving the fabric under your chin. your breasts rise and fall with every breath and he doesn’t miss the goosebumps that prickle around your nipples, “there we go. i’ll keep you warm.”
you roll your eyes, a smile about to break, “get naked, hero. then i can go back to sleep.”
bakugou chuckles under his breath, unable to take his eyes off your face. the curve of a smile appearing and the squint of your eyes. he’s gonna treat you good, now and forever after.
bakugou pulls off his tank with the skill of a model in a perfume advertisement, sexy and purposeful, giving you enough time to skim down his body.
immediately, your hand flies to a spot just below his armpit, “you have a bruise! where were your sidekicks? did you take them?”
bakugou is quick to shush you, “wasn’t from patrol. was sparrin’ with them.”
“oh,” you whisper, resting your hand over the purplish spot, bakugou adjusts to shuffle out of his shorts and underwear in one go. “they need to go easier on you.”
then you look between his legs. you hope he doesn’t go easy on you.
“no the fuck they don’t. i let them have this one. they didn’t get ninety nine percent of their shots.” he replies, taking his cock in his hand before you can.
bakugou has a gorgeous cock, one you speak about when you’ve had too many cocktails and beg for when he walks out the shower with a towel low on his waist. you’re about to start, pulling him to you by your legs at the sight of his scarred hand looking somewhat small when he gives himself a few pumps.
“okay, honourable senpai. you’re so kind letting your protégés hit you for a confidence boost.”
bakugou smirks, just like he knows how to rile you up, you know how to him. “you sure you wanna talk like this now?”
you smile, ignoring him, “get a condom, you’re already leaking.”
you brush your thumb over his head, swiping his pre and sticking it in your mouth.
“fuck,” bakugou gulps, stretching to grab one from his bedside table. “you win, whatever.”
“yay me.”
it’s exactly what you both wanted. bakugou stuffs a pillow under your back, grips your hips and slides completely into you.
you’re a little tight this morning with no foreplay but it’s a stretch you welcome. bakugou’s already panting, stumbles of swears and even a “get it to-fuckin’-gether,” to himself when you accidentally clench around him.
“h-hold on, baby,” you say, eyes closed as you find the best spot.
he feels so good inside you, thick and hugging, so close to prodding your favourite parts.
“you good?” he flicks his gaze away from where you join to your face, lips parted.
“hm, yeah. there we go,” you only needed a few seconds. “move. move, kats.”
bakugou begins his thrusts short and controlled, testing the waters before he can really go how he wants. you feel incredible, amazing, wet and warm and like the love of his life.
he’s already given you his soul, but during sex is when he offers you more and more.
“i love you. fuckin’ love you so much,” he stutters through pants. every thrust louder with a pat pat pat. “been thinkin’ about you all day. comin’ to you. seein’ your lil face.”
you’re listening to every word but you can’t manage to reply to each comment. “faster, baby. harder.”
you can really smell him now. the smell of the day now becoming sweaty sex. your eyes roll back into your head, your clit pulses in need.
bakugou listens like you’re his north star guiding him home. he plants his knees into your mattress and thrusts. harder, controlled yet always careful of you.
“oh fuck,” you moan, slapping your hands onto his back to pull him in closer to you. his thrusts are strong, every single one sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. “fuck, fuck, fuck, kats. oh, i love you. love this so much.”
you’re rambling, unable to think straight and the harder bakugou goes, your headboard begins to rattle against the wall.
you both couldn’t care less.
it’s a bundle of moans, body parts that have no beginning or end. your bonnet is falling off your head, some of bakugou’s left over eye makeup has smudged into a sweaty substance by his eyebrow. it gets too much when he pushes your knees by your temples, getting you into a mating press.
you sneak your pointer and middle fingers between your legs to rub on your clit. you do swift circles, already lubricated by your own come.
every thrust has you inching further up the bed to the point, bakugou stops thrusting for a second to pull you to the centre of the bed.
“pillow. under your head baby,” he reminds you and as soon as you move to grab it, he’s back to those sweet skilful thrusts.
one hand on your clit, another flat on his clenched abdomen.
“you’re so—,” you start, losing yourself as a spark of electricity shakes down your legs. your dam is about to break any second now. “so beautiful.”
bakugou huffs, sweat beads bumbling on his forehead. your breasts jiggle with every motion, your hand falling on his chest with every shake.
“thank you, baby. you’re everythin’ to me. you know that.”
you nod, eyes lazed, “i do. i know.” then your mouth gapes open and you release a long mewl. you grab at his side, back arching as your hand speeds up on your clit. “i’m gonna come. i’m gonna come, baby.”
bakugou keeps up his pace, ignoring the tightness of his lower stomach. you’re always first. “i’ll look after you. come on, baby.”
you fall apart loudly. incoherent mumbles where bakugou can only make out wisps of his name and a screech from the back of your throat that makes him grin. your body jolts up and down your bed throughout it all, your toes going numb as your legs stiffen in the air. the pleasure is immense, a stream of rushing waves slapping against rocks. you want to tell him to slow down but he knows without you saying.
bakugou does slow down and the second he does, he spills into the condom with a grunt deep enough to make you come again. it comes from the pit of his stomach, all the exhaustion and stress of the day falling off his shoulders and into this bed with you.
bakugou pulls the condom off, ties it and throws it in your bin across the room. then does he finally, lay beside you in bed.
“thanks for that. needed it,” he whispers, kissing your shoulder.
both of you lay with your eyes closed, too sweaty to touch the other so you just brush your fingertips against his.
“you’re welcome,” you giggle before turning into a downturned smile, “we need to shower—.”
bakugou pulls up the duvet over your bodies, mentally resigned, “no, we can do that when we wake up and change the sheets.”
“but—,”
“you’re about to fall asleep. let yourself,” he whispers, adjusting your tee down your body and spooning you from behind. he kisses the top of your head, “goodnight, baby.”
“it’s the morning.”
“i said goodnight.”
bakugou looks for your snappy reply back but you’re already gone, fast asleep with a palm under your head.
comments and reblogs are appreciated. no part 2 comments, thanks!
bakugou wakes up with the most craziest adorable bed head that every morning is filled with giggles and kisses all over his cheeks. he always pretends to get grumpy about it, hands in his hair to fix it but you slap them off.
aizawa is just the ex-husband of all time to me. he never stopped loving you, dreams about how your pinky would slide between his fingers when you knew his mind was somewhere else. if the apartment is too quiet and he's too sober, he swears the walls echo the rhythm of your breathing, as if you were still there, halfway on his pillow.
he had pulled away. call it self-sabotage, call it fear, but he unraveled the weave between you first, then let you slip away without a fight
telling them you’re just trying to get them out of your system and they fuck you the best they can every time. if they can’t have you the way they want you, they’ll at least make sure you compare everyone else you ever sleep with to them
tongue-kissing is incredibly intimate to bakugo, like I legit believe he does the equivalent of saving it for marriage, but once you cross that threshold with him oooooo boy
he is the BEST kisser. he’s so judicious with his tongue, teases and tastes into you all heated and almost shy at first, puffs soft, hot, panting breaths against your mouth when your tongue finally brushes back against his. he reads how you like it and matches it effortlessly, learning with you how the two of you move together.
he will make out with you on the couch for an hour. his cheeks all red as he tilts your head how he wants it, makes soft little sounds he doesn’t realize he’s making
Semi public sex with possesive obsessive itadori yuuji 🤤👀
one thing abt yuuji itadori is that once he has you that’s it, he’s on you all of the time savouring you like you’re the last ripened piece of fruit before it’s out of season and hard to find again.
constantly feeling you up in public, hands in the back pockets of your jeans or splayed out against your tummy depending on which way you’re hugging. lil canines in your neck or nipping at your earlobe.
i do think he’s the type to have fingered you in the back of a very vacant cinema screening cause you kept thanking him for the slushie and gummies with those big beautiful eyes and he didn’t know how else to show you how big his affection had become without sliding a hand under your skirt n rubbing at that cute little pussy:( so in love with you and shushing your teeny whimpers he thinks you’re so cute you do anything cute and yuuji is fucking you
also he drives his truck to empty car parks or look out spots to fuck you all the time all the time. if you go out on a date and guy flirts with you he plays it cool until you’re back in his car and then hes making you ride him reverse cow girl fingers rubbing your cunt raw until you squirt and push his fat cock out … not because he’s jealous or angry at you but because he considers it to be so sexy when other people desire what they can’t have … aka you. like it turns him on so much to know he won, leaves loads of bites and hickies across the back of your neck just for good measure though .. you are his after all
🏁 ꒰ ✩ smut ⋆ mdni ⋆ characters are adults. boyfriend!megumi fushiguro and fem!reader. established relationship, somnophilia, pussy jobs, clothed sex, free use, cum play. ꒰ gumi decides that getting you off feels best when you’re asleep and dreaming. ꒱
megumi likes them most when you’re too tired for a proper fucking. he crawls over you while you sleep and shrouds you in his shadow — wide shoulders kissed by moonlight that hide you from the eclipse — his fingers soft against your hips like the gentle twinkle of stars in the distance as he presses your knees into your shoulders.
“easy, baby girl, s’just me,” his voice is hoarse with crumbling restraint, weighed down in his throat by his insatiable greed. sweatpants have long since been rolled down and nestled under balls that twitch with a brilliant and impending load. megumi’s cock his heavy against your stomach — the head vibrant red whilst it oozes pre onto the frilly waistband of your panties.
at first — he smacks himself against your clothed core, prodding at your hole which he craves the energy to fill. for now, megumi makes it work. he finds that he adores the white cotton undergarments you wear. frilly with a delicate pink bow just under your navel. he doesn’t take them off. too fond of the decoration to his sin. he doesn’t even tuck them to the side, he slides himself through the loop of fabric at your leg and thrusts. careful, tentative, and slow as if to make you really feel it. prominent veins pulsing where they meet your beating clit.
you stir cutely, calling his name as if to greet him in your dream. megumi kisses the crease between your brows — soothing, attentive. “i’ve got you, let me make you feel good.”
claggy, syrupy sounds cling to the cool night, arousal catching on megumi’s shaft with each pass through your sopping mound. you’ve probably no idea how wet you are, tendrils of sleep woven around your mind — making you pliant and perfect for him. he hisses when you clench around nothing but catch on every part of him, aching to be filled with his length.
the gusset of your soft cotton panties darken in the exchange of slick and precum — the gooey strands forming a strong web where he ends and you begin. much like the rise of your sun and the fall of his moon, the cycle of pleasure is endless and it embraces you even in deep slumber. his hips draw back, pearlescent and slender, and his mushroomed tip slips beneath the scalloped edge of your underwear once more. using nimble fingers and a gentle grip as to not spark any over-sensitivity — fushiguro takes hold of himself, his curved lengthy shaft bobbing in between nimble digits, for better leverage. rubbing his milky oozing head back and forth over your arousal beading nub.
occasionally he dips past the tight ring of your entrance, shuddering at your iron grip — pride tingling within the gap between brain and his skull at how selfishly you lock down on him even when you’re not awake to show the world.
he’ll always count his lucky stars that you’re so eager, so willing to let him have you as he sees fit. awake or asleep your precious pussy belongs to him. in the depths of your consciousness she craves him, it’s obvious in the way your hips canter upwards to meet megumi’s as your high approaches like rushing rapids. the manner in which your back bows towards the night sky — forcing his chest to yours as though you are trying to fuse your heartbeats into one.
“so good to me. so fucking good.” megumi coos under his breath, hidden beneath his aerated moans because he cums not too long after. limbs wobbly with his collapse on top of you imminent. his weight your shaky, sleepy frame is accompanied a shot of translucent, viscous white into the seat of your panties. the flood swirling with heated gush of nectar from your abused slit. all of it smears lewdly through your abused folds, white on your sensitive clit in the form of his signature.
lashes kiss your cheeks and neck whilst megumi steadies himself in the scent of sex and warmth of your skin. his breath shattered and mystified against you.
“i can be even better,” you murmur to him, feeling him flinch in surprise when your fingers curl in midnight locks at the nape of his neck — roused by the cooling mess between your thighs. “if you cum inside next time.”
all megumi can do is groan — hungry and appreciative because you really are always so ready for him.
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the sound of the teeny weeny pathetic whine that comes out of your normally stoic or restrained partner's mouth when you pull back from a kiss before they're ready to stop, or when you've teased them just a little without following through . . .
bakugou loveeessss a strict woman. loves there being expectations he needs to meet. you choosing him means he’s a man of High Value. a man of Quality. you choosing him means he’s good enough. he landed YOU.
Suddenly imagined leading on a guy you've been seeing by making out with him after your dates and abruptly stopping to tell him that you're gonna go home and think about him when you masturbate and then you just leave him high and dry. And of course one day he snaps and fingers you outside of your home bc you've been teasing him too much
"Someone's gonna see," you whisper with worry, trying to peek over his broad shoulder to look around the neighborhood.
"Let them," he grumbles into your ear, hiking your leg up higher on his waist so he can stuff a third finger inside you. He smirks when you mewl at the stretch. "You like that? You like being filled up?"
"Uh-huh," you whine, high and needy. He hums against your cheek, pressing a kiss there.
"I could fill you up so well, Y/N, hit every spot you like inside you. I could make you feel so good."
You moan his name when he curls his fingers, his palm rubbing against your clit as he thrusts the digits inside of you. You can feel yourself leaking down your thigh.
"I could make you cum as much as you want, could go all night if you wanted. I'd do anything to make you feel good."
"Please," you whisper harshly, digging your nails into his shoulders. "I'm so close."
"Let me give you what you need, darling."
He keeps his pace and technique, hitting the same spot inside you that makes your toes curl. Other guys would've sped up or fucked something up, but your boyfriend is consistent, just what you needed.
God, you should've done this sooner. The orgasm creeping up on you is going to be big. You vaguely pray that his dick could make you feel just as good as you topple over the edge, tucking your face into his shoulder to muffle your moans.
He guides you through it, massaging your cunt as you flutter down. He pulls out his fingers and begins sucking them clean, moaning low.
God, you need him. You need him so badly. You'll even fuck him on your porch, you don't care anymore. You just need his cock buried deep inside you, thrusting wildly and meticulously until you're braindead.
When you go to palm his cock, he grabs your wrist. You pout as he brings your hand to his mouth and kisses the back of it, then leaning forward to press a tender kiss to your temple. He lets you go and turns away, stepping down off your porch.
"W-Wait—"
"Sorry, dear," he says, looking back at you. "I promise to think about you when I masturbate later."
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