Youâve learnt a few things about yourself since marrying the King of Curses. Namely, your penchant for narrowly avoiding death at the hands of your husband.
Youâre one wrong move from having your head bitten clean off, and gods, does that fact excite you. Itâs an adrenaline rush incomparable to anything else. Thrillseekers need to quit the cave diving and lion's dens and find themselves a man with the capacity to dissect them for looking at him wrong.Â
Sukunaâs heart has softened considerably since meeting you. Thereâs a channel within it, perhaps a major vein or artery, that houses an affection towards you that allows this kind of disrespect to go unpunished.Â
For the time being, at least. Heâll fuck you within an inch of your life for the stunt youâre pulling now.Â
You sit on your husbandâs rock-hard stomach, both of his cocks hard and angry behind you, as you spread your thighs and fuck yourself with a laquered wooden dildo gifted to you by a raunchy friend before your marriage. Youâre a mess, dripping all over Sukunaâs abs as you plunge the dildo inside of you, steering upwards in search of the spot that he never seems to miss.Â
Heâs growling, practically vibrating beneath you in anger as you cuck him with a piece of carved wood. The sensation of his rumbling is nice, but the satisfaction of having the King of Curses in such an emasculating position is better than any sexual relief could be.Â
âNice and still for me, dear,â you taunt. âWhen you twitch like that, I lose my balance.â
And, like a dog with a pronged collar, he yields. Grabs your waist with two of his four strong hands and holds you down against his heated skin. You allow him that much, lest he decides this lack of control isnât worth amusing his wifeâs weird sexual endeavours.
You roll your hips a little, plunge the dildo deeper inside of you in search of that spot. How can Sukuna find it so easily?
âThat phallus doesnât please you,â he notes, looking up at you with sharp eyes. Heâs such a mess; his hair all over the place, chest heaving with the exertion of holding himself back. âTo replace me with carved wood. You disrespect not only me, but that cunt of yours as well. Sheâs neglected.â
âHush,â you avoid his gaze. âIt is not a she, and you are just here to watch.â
âWatch what? Your failing to make yourself come? You do strange things to spite me, woman.â
You roll your eyes, and then turn your cheek. You wonât give him the satisfaction of leering at your displeased face â why is it not working? You used to sate yourself just fine before you were married, but you havenât touched yourself since. Now when you try, even with such a mountain of a man at your beck and call, nothing compares.Â
Your fingers arenât as big as his are. Your crafted dildo doesnât curve and pulse like his cocks do. You lack the warmth on top of you; the loud, sleepless nights he gives you, the pleasure so overwhelming it bleeds into pain.Â
âYouâve ruined self-love for me, you know?â You sulk.Â
Sukuna rolls his eyes beneath you, jaw working as youâre sure heâs trying not to spit something demeaning from his lips. He fails. âYouâre just incapable,â he bites. âDonât hold yourself to such high standards, wife. I am not to be rivalled.â
His ego is ruinous. A part of you wants to feign your pleasure, start moaning like a whore and show him exactly what heâs missing out on, but your husband has always had a penchant for knowing insincerity when he sees it. Heâd punish you worse for faking your pleasure than for taking it without his aid.Â
âFine,â you grumble, your teasing mood soured. âHelp me then, you oaf. But you remain beneath me. Where you belong.â
You tack it on as an afterthought, but it feels odd to say. The man who towers over the world and those within it, is laid beneath you⊠you canât help but feel special. He laughs at your words, chuckles vibrating through his stomach and into you, but he doesnât punish you for his tongue.
Yet.
âTake that fucking thing out of you,â he starts, glancing down at where you keep the dildo buried between your thighs.
You oblige, working it out slowly. A string of slick connects it to you as Sukuna grips it in one large hand and raises it up to your eye-level. Snap. Itâs in halves before you can blink. The wood splinters, creates a small dust of shavings that dissipate through the air and makes your eyes widen.Â
âIf you bring another object like this into our chamber again, Iâll stuff you full of it and have you walk naked across the length of the estate with it inside,â he lectures, eyes so set in his ways that you know he isnât making empty threats. âNow, let me do what you cannot.â
Before you can allow yourself the dignity of pretending this is a favour to him, Sukunaâs stomach splits across the taut seam you had been sitting on. A long, obscenely wet tongue shoots up and flattens against your pussy, warm and disgusting in its eagerness. Hot breath fans your skin from below, and you gasp as what feels like buckets of spit wet your cunt in preparation.Â
Your husband just watches as the mouth on his stomach gets its fill. His grip on your waist tightens and holds you down against the slippery second tongue that licks a lewd stripe from your ass, to your hole, up to your clit. You whine, shrinking away from such messy devouring, but you have nowhere to go, and no fight left in you to object â you spent all of that on trying to pretend you could cuck a man like Sukuna.Â
Stupid, stupid, stupid.Â
âFuck,â you splay your hands out across your husbands chest for purchase as his stomach-tongue circles once, twice, around your clit before worming its way inside of you. It fills you with the ease of a muscle; pliant, not having to stretch you quite as far as his cocks do. And it moves, explores the topography of your insides like itâs trying to chart you out, taste every inch of your wombâŠ
Through your blurred vision, you watch Sukuna raking his gaze over you. He keeps licking his lips, shifting ever so slightly as he had when you were trying to deny him. Your brows knit together.
âCan you taste me?â you ask, words broken by a moan as his stomach-tongue starts thrusting in and out of you, pushing all the way in just to retreat back into the mouth to savour the slick it coats itself with. âCan you⊠taste what it does?â
âBarely,â his jaw ticks. âItâs dull. Not the same.â
Oh? A surge of something mean shoots through you, and for a moment youâre unsure whether itâs pleasure from his tongue taking another course inside, or the satisfaction of knowing that, in a way, youâre still cucking him.
âSo,â you glide your fingertip across the plane of his chest. âIf I cum on this tongue, youâll hardly be able to taste it?â
He doesnât answer. A dog that bites and barks opting instead for silence is as telling as it is terrifying. You love it.
You throw your head back with a dramatic moan, using your thighs to push yourself up and start riding his stomach-tongue as you would his cocks. Itâs lewd, makes these god-awful squelching noises with each pump in and out of you, but thereâs a certain eroticism to the mess youâre making. His cocks are leaking behind you, desperate to tunnel inside of you and find their release, but you donât allow it â youâre busy riding that tongue of his.Â
âI shouldâgodsâdo this more often,â you pant. âYouâve been hiding this from me, husband. Scared Iâll put the better parts of you to use?â
âTch. Quiet yourself and take your release.â Heâs tetchy, restless.Â
You can tell heâs straining himself not to pick you up and force you down onto his cocks like he so often does. Luckily for him, your climax is close, and you arenât sure youâd have the heart (or will) to deny him any longer.Â
The tongue inside of you quickens in pace. It thrusts in and out in emulation of a cock, dragging wet muscle across your g-spot in rhythmic bliss. You can feel yourself going stupid on it, such a mess being made between your thighs. Your skin is covered in saliva, from your thighs to your cunt, all the way up to your stomach; youâre glossed with the stuff. Coated.
Itâs when the tongue slips out of you to once again lap at your clit that your orgasm comes. You clench around nothing, grimacing at the feeling of emptiness that dampers your climax, but your legs shake and breath hitches in your lungs as you forget how to breathe, and be, and stay fucking quiet.
Your moans are melodious and loud in the same right, spurring Sukuna from a scowl to a slack jaw as his hips buck up once, and then twice, and a sudden splurt of heat covers your ass and lower back.
âDid you justââ you start, but your mind spins. Youâre lurched forward by the force of two strong hands, and brought down to your husbandâs chest. The mess of warm spit sticks your skin together, but you donât have even a moment to complain as he covers your mouth with his, kisses you with a reverence that can only be shown by a king in adoration of his queen. Or a man warring to distract from the fact that he just came untouched.
âYou are a petulant brat who has lost her sense of subservience to me,â he speaks against your lips. âBut you are beautiful to an ungodly degree when you disobey me. You will look even better split in half on my cocks, crying for mercy from this man who is so âbeneath youâ, yes?â
A beautiful jolt of erotic fear surges through you. Youâre one wrong-answer away from sexual torture; better keep your words kind.Â
You smile against his lips, peck them once, twice, and then speak. Your words are simple.
Your Roommate Yuji has always been a big guy since you've known him he's always been taller than most guys, buffer then most and well stronger than most too, it's always been his thing.
Roommate Yuji who randomly said he wanted to start bulking up you weren't against it, it was just kinda surprising.
So here you are a couple months in and Roommate Yuji is already filling out clothes that were loose on him and not fit those that were his perfect size, his pecs are literally pulling on the seams of his button up shirts, your hands can't even fully wrap around his back when you hug him with how much bigger they are, his thighs are messing up your head with how much they're filling out his pants and goddamn those biceps.
Roommate Yuji who sends you a progress photo shirtless in the gym changing room showing off his gains not knowing you are laying in bed stuffing your pussy with your fingers to those images whilst wearing one of his many compression shirts
Roommate Yuji who is talking to you as he helps you get something off the top shelf and all you can think about is the way his back moves in the compression shirt, the little sliver of skin showing his abs as he lifts his arm and those biceps reaching into the shelf, he's not doing anything over the top but here you are imagining him bending you over and fucking you with his bicep choking you out
Roommate Yuji may or may not have noticed your interest in bigger guys especially seeing the stuff you like online and may or may not have decided to replicate that just so he can grab your attention.
Roommate Yuji isn't blind he knows how pretty you are and he always tries to not make it obvious so he doesn't come off as creepy roommate but can you blame him when you walk around the house wearing those cute shorts or when you try to reach something on the top shelf and your shirt lifts giving him a sliver of skin.
Roommate Yuji who purposely gives you his shirts that no longer fit him just so he can see you walking around in his clothes with your nipples poking through them and maybe he does that so he can fist his cock in the shower after coming from the gym to the thought of bending you over and fucking you in his shirt.
It's another day of Roommate Yuji being at the gym and you finally snagged another one of his gym shirts, and him sending you another gym photo saying he won't be back till later today it's like the universe is smiling down on you, that's why your'e on your hands and knees back arched face in his shirt as your fuck yourself stupid on a vibe moaning out his name "y-yuji please"
Roommate Yuji is such an idiot he forgot the flash drive he needed for the project he has due and needed to work on, imagine his surprise when he comes into the house just pass by your door to hear a very faint buzzing sound, he was gonna knock until he hears a muffled "f-fuck y-yuji right there~".
Roommate Yuji opens your room door just to find you face down ass up his gym shirt under you with a vibe against your clit, he feels light headed as all the blood rushes from his blushing face down south. "Didn't know you loved my shirt that much" he says walking up to your bed, a surprised sound comes from you as you scramble to cover up "YUJI what- no- why are you- how did you get in? " you say pulling your covers over you, feeling a flush of embarrassment run over your skin.
Yuji wasn't supposed to be home now he was working on a project yea he said that he was gonna be busy oh my gosh he probably thinks I'm a disgusting pervert getting off to sniffing his clothes, your mind is running a mile a minute, just for Yuji to lean over your bed and reach for the toy you were using that was still buzzing away on the bed "well this is my house too and I needed to pick something up, but who would've thought that my goody two shoes roommate" he whispers whilst holding the vibe and slowly unraveling your covers "was actually a horny slut who gets off to my gym clothes" your high squeal bounces off the walls as he places the vibe back on your clit and holding you down with his palm on your tummy as you trash about to escape the stimulation.
You were already on the edge and the embarrassing situation has you covering your face as you ride his hand holding the vibrator, "I-i'm gonna I'm gonna-" suddenly he pulls away leaving you high and dry.
Still processing the orgasm denial you're suddenly flipped over "you don't get the cum unless it's on my cock" he pulls your hips to his cock and slowly sinks in to the base a deep guttural sound comes out from deep in his chest. His thrusts are hard and fast like he's trying to meld himself into you and sink himself totally into your cunt "F-fuck can't believe you've been hnghh keeping this cunt from me all along roomie" he groans.
God, he's so big, his hands are so big, his palms pressing against the back of your neck his hand holding your waist and his cock rubbing against your cervix everytime he drilled into you, the curved head rubbing against your g-spot again and again.
"Hahhh 'ji s'too muchhhh" you drool out whilst trying to reach behind you to push against his pelvis "you. can. take. IT. "He grunts as he finally puts all his weight on you punctuating every word with a hard thrust and slowly he wraps his bicep under your chin and squeezes your face into a pout "I noticed you always loved -shit complimenting my biceps" flexing them even more as he cuts off your air flow and has you gasping out moans of "y-yes yes I doo~".
"So glad you love my body I started bulking all for you so guess it worked" he whispers in your ear and hearing that literally has your eyes rolling back and cunt spasming as you finally get to cum on your roommates dick, the orgasm is toe curling and erratic with a loud moan spilling out of you, Yuji's pace becomes uncoordinated as he finally spills in you and fills you up with his spunk as he moans lowly into the juncture of your neck.
"I guess bulking season is over " he says with his signature goofy smile.
"Do I know you?" she asked as her eyes slid closed. "I suppose you do." THIS BOOK YALL.. I'm still thinking about it đ& the urge to reread from the beginning immediately after finishing was so strong @senlinyuwrites I love an unreliable narrator it's my favorite thing ever and this was the most extreme version possible đ
synopsis:: you and Bakugo were never close in school. just classmates who ended up in the same friend group by accident and stayed there out of habit. eight years later he's one of the top heroes with a mouth on him and you're the unbothered ex-classmate who somehow still doesn't know he's been in love with you since UA. His friends know. His mom knows. Everyone knows. You do not. This is Bakugo's guideâ written badly on the back of a receipt at 2amâ to finally doing something about it.
yellow and pink divs edited by me. base here if you'd like to make your own ⥠layout inspired by my goat @6x-x9
You were never the loud one in the friend group. That was never your job. Kirishima was loud. Bakugo was louder. You were the one who sat back and watched everyone lose their minds over something small and just â didn't. Calm under pressure. Unshakeable in a way that used to annoy Bakugo in high school and now just makes him feel like he's losing a fight he never agreed to start.
Eight years out of UA and somehow you're still around. Still in the group chat. Still showing up to Kirishima's birthday parties and Sero's terrible karaoke nights. Still completely unaware that Katsuki Bakugo â the number five hero, walking explosion, a man who has never once backed down from anything in his life â has been quietly losing his mind over you since roughly your second year of school.
Everyone else figured it out years ago. Kirishima figured it out first, mostly because Bakugo made the mistake of getting drunk at his own agency's holiday party and saying your name four times in one sentence. Mina figured it out next. Even Todoroki figured it out, which says a lot, because Todoroki barely notices when buildings are on fire.
You did not figure it out. You are, according to every single person in that group chat, the last person on earth who has no idea.
So one night Bakugo sat down with a receipt from a ramen place and a pen that was almost out of ink and wrote himself a list. Not because he needed help â he would tell you he did not need help â but because eight years of doing nothing had clearly not worked and something had to change.
Here's what he came up with.
Rule #1: Don't call her pretty. That's weak. She'll see right through it.
You've been called pretty before. Plenty of times. It rolls off you like water because it means nothing coming from strangers. So the first time Bakugo actually looks at you â really looks, across a table at a group dinner while everyone else is arguing about something stupid â he doesn't say pretty. He says your hair looks stupid pushed back like that and it takes you a full three seconds to realize that's the nicest thing he's said to anyone all night.Kirishima kicks him under the table. Bakugo kicks back harder.
Rule #2: Don't let her see you get soft. Save that for when nobody's watching
You broke your wrist on a mission six months ago and Bakugo showed up at the hospital before your own agency finished the paperwork. He didn't say much. He sat in the corner with his arms crossed and glared at every nurse who walked past like they'd personally wronged him. You thanked him for coming. He said he was in the area. He was not in the area. He is never in your area.
Rule #3: If she teases you don't react. Reacting means she wins.
You have exactly one move against Bakugo and it works every time. You call him Kacchan in that flat unbothered voice of yours, the one that makes it sound like an insult and a joke at once, and he goes red before he can stop it. He tells you to shut up. You don't. He never actually wants you to.
Rule #4: Don't stare. Staring is for losers who can't say what they mean.
He stares anyway. Across bars. Across meeting rooms when your agencies do joint operations. Across the space between his couch and yours when the whole group crashes at his place after a night out and you fall asleep first, curled up small and unbothered like the world isn't currently on fire somewhere. He tells himself he's just checking you're breathing. He checks for a very long time.
Rule #5: If she steals your jacket let her keep it. Don't be a bitch about it.
It was cold outside a bar in October and you didn't bring one. He took his off without being asked and put it around your shoulders before you could even shiver a second time. You tried to give it back at the end of the night. He told you to keep it, said something about not needing two jackets anyway, which made no sense, and walked off before you could argue. You still have it. He knows you still have it. Neither of you has ever mentioned it again.
Rule #6: Don't get jealous. Jealous is for weak men.
A guy from a rival agency spent an entire mixer talking to you last spring and Bakugo spent that same mixer setting three separate small fires with his quirk completely by accident, according to him. Kirishima said it wasn't an accident. Bakugo told Kirishima to shut the hell up in front of everyone, which everyone agreed was extremely on brand and extremely obvious.
Rule #7: If she's tired let her sleep on your shoulder. Don't make it weird.
You fell asleep on the train back from a joint mission once, head tipping slowly toward his shoulder like gravity had made a decision without asking you. He went completely still. Didn't move for forty minutes. Told everyone later he just didn't want to wake you up. That was true. It was also not the whole truth.
Rule #8: Compete with her. Don't let her win just because you like her. That's pathetic.
You beat him at darts once, at a bar, fair and square, and he demanded a rematch on the spot. You beat him again. He demanded a third round. By the fourth round he wasn't even trying to win anymore, just trying to make you laugh at his increasingly unhinged trash talk, and you were laughing too hard to notice you'd stopped keeping score.
Rule #9: Play it cool when she touches you. Don't be obvious.
You have a habit of grabbing his arm when you laugh too hard at something, quick and unthinking, gone in half a second. It means nothing to you. It means everything to him. He has thought about that half-second more times than he'd ever admit under torture.
Rule #10: If she's cold under the table don't offer your legs. That's insane. Nobody does that.
He does it anyway. It's a slow dinner, everyone's talking over each other, and your foot brushes his under the table by accident. You don't move it. Neither does he. What starts as an accident turns into something else entirely â your foot pressed lightly against his shin, his ankle hooked loosely around yours, both of you carrying on two separate conversations with the rest of the table like nothing is happening below it. He nearly chokes on his drink when your foot slides slow up his calf, just once, just to see what he'll do.
He does absolutely nothing. Which is how you know it worked.
Rule #11: Don't ask about her ex. That's weak and clingy behavior.
He asks anyway, once, badly, wrapped inside a completely unrelated sentence about something else entirely so it wouldn't sound like what it was. You answered honestly and briefly and didn't ask why he wanted to know. He spent the rest of that night in a genuinely foul mood that had nothing to do with the mission report he'd claimed was bothering him.
Rule #12: If she gets sick you're not worried. You're just making sure she doesn't die. There's a difference.
You caught something nasty last winter and didn't tell anyone because you hate being fussed over. Bakugo found out from Kirishima and showed up at your apartment within the hour with a bag of groceries he refused to let you see the receipt for. He made soup badly. He stayed anyway sitting stiffly on your couch like he'd rather be anywhere else until you fell asleep on his shoulder for the second time in your life. He didn't move again. This time you were awake enough at the end to notice and you didn't say anything either.
Rule #13: Don't remember small stuff about her. That's obsessive.
He remembers everything. Your coffee order. The exact way you take your eggs. The name of the street you grew up on mentioned once years ago in passing. He tells himself it's just a good memory. Kirishima tells him that's not what a good memory looks like for anyone else in the friend group.
Rule #14: Don't get quiet around her. Quiet means she'll know something's wrong.
He gets quiet anyway sometimes when it's just the two of you left at the end of a group hangout and everyone else has gone home. You've noticed. You've never asked. You've started noticing you kind of like the quiet too.
Rule #15: If she insults your cooking don't take it personal.
You told him once that his katsudon tasted like it was made out of spite. He told you to make it yourself then. You did. It was worse than his. He has never let you live that down and somehow still makes you a plate every single time you come over unasked like it's not a big deal.
Rule #16: Don't let her see the soft stuff. Like the notebook. She can never see the notebook.
There is in fact a notebook. Bakugo would deny this to his last breath. It is not a diary. It is a training log that occasionally accidentally includes things like *she laughed at something dumb I said today* written in the margins in handwriting too small for anyone to notice. Nobody has ever seen it. It stays that way.
Rule #17: Don't dance with her at Mina's stupid parties. Dancing is for saps.
He dances with you exactly once badly at Mina's birthday both of you a little drunk and laughing about how neither of you knows what you're doing. His hand sits low on your waist the entire song. Yours rests flat against his chest close enough to feel his heart going faster than the song's tempo would explain. Neither of you comments on it. Both of you notice.
Rule #18: If she calls you at 2am for no reason answer immediately. Don't overthink it.
You called once at 2am half-asleep just to complain about a case that was bothering you and needed someone to talk it out with. He picked up on the first ring even though he'd been dead asleep three seconds earlier. Talked you through it for forty minutes in a voice rougher than usual low and half-awake until you finally calmed down enough to sleep. Neither of you brought it up the next day. You both remembered it anyway.
Rule #19: Tell her the truth eventually. Stalling makes you look like a coward.
He almost doesn't. Eight years of almost. Eight years of jackets and soup and 2am phone calls and a notebook nobody's supposed to see all adding up to exactly nothing because Katsuki Bakugo â who has never once in his life backed down from a fight â has apparently decided this is the one fight not worth having.
Kirishima finally sits him down and tells him flatly that watching this has become genuinely embarrassing for everyone involved. That you deserve to actually know. That you're not going to figure it out on your own because you're the single most unbothered person either of them has ever met and unbothered people don't go looking for things they've never been told to look for.
Rule #20: Ask her out. Just say it. Stop being a coward about it
He shows up at your apartment on a random Tuesday with no plan and no speech prepared which is unlike him in every possible way. You open the door in an old shirt and no makeup unbothered as always and ask what's wrong like something must be wrong for him to be standing there.
"Nothing's wrong," he says and immediately looks like he regrets starting that way. "I just â " He stops. Starts again. "You're coming to dinner with me Friday. Not the group. Just you and me."
You blink at him. For the first time in eight years something in your carefully composed face actually slips just a fraction just enough for him to see it happen in real time.
"Is this a date Bakugo?"
"Obviously it's a date," he says too loud the way he gets when he's covering for something. "What else would it be. Are you always this slow or is it just with me?"
You don't answer right away. You just look at him for a long moment the unbothered mask cracking wider by the second and something like a smile starts pulling at the corner of your mouth.
"Friday," you say. "Pick me up at seven. And Katsukiâ"
"What."
"Wear the jacket back. I've had it long enough."
He goes red for the second time in eight years. Somewhere across town Kirishima's phone buzzes with a single text that just says *finally* and nothing else and every single person in that group chat already knows exactly what it means before he explains a word of it.
ââââ Katsuki is a pain to sleep next to, clingy and hot, double whammy.
It felt like you were being baked in an oven from how hot the room was. The fan was on its highest setting, and you had just turned the a.c on but it was still sweltering.
And of course, the man you shared a bed with just had to be the equivalent of a human heater.
Your tank top stuck to you in all the wrong places, tossing and turning so the other side of your body could feel the brief relief from the fan.
âBaby, get off fâme,â you pleaded, almost trapped under your boyfriendâs arm.
"Quit movin'." His voice was laced with sleep. Not giving any sign that he would move anytime soon.
You squirmed, attempting to release yourself once more. "It's hot, and you on me isn't making it any better."
And to make matters worse, Katsuki pulls you to his bare chest, your cheek pressed to his pec. His palm spread possessively across your skin.
"I'm not saying you don't know how to fuck your girl, Fushiguro."
Your boyfriend takes a long toke of his cigarette, leaning back in the plush armchair facing the hotel bed. He blows smoke towards the two of you, his eyes narrowing. "Sure fuckin' sounds like it."
You roll your eyes. Even as he watches his girl getting fucked by his best friend, he's got a mouth on him. Any other man would be humbled by such a sight â Toji just stares.
He's hard. you can see the fabric of his sweats straining at the crotch, even from where you lay pressed into the bed. If Shiu weren't fucking you so deeply, you might be able to take a breath, focus your eyes, and discern whether or not that dark patch over Toji's groin is from his leaking pre, or if it's just a trick of the light.
"I'm just sayingâ" Shiu slows the snapping of his hips and transitions instead into a rolling motion that is more soothing than it is erotic. I'ts good; you like it. You could fall asleep like this, full of cock, the weighted blanket of his body on top of yours. "âyou fuck to fuck. I fuck to connect."
Toji snorts from his chair, like he's in a position to puff his chest out. "I'd already be inside of her. No need to connect."
He's certainly not a romantic. Shiu groans, pushing himself nice and deep as he presses a sweet kiss to your neck.
One of his hands (rough, but not mean like Tojiâs) snakes down your body in search of your clit. Itâs still sensitive from the half-hour of head he warmed you up with, so heâs gentle when he starts circling the pad of his finger around your nerves. You find yourself gasping, hiccuping as air fills your lungs, and moaning as it leaves.Â
âYou hear that?â Shiu glances over his shoulder to Toji, who now looks a little less cocksure than before. Heâs restless, adjusting himself in his pants and spreading his knees to make room for the heavy erection heâs sporting. âShe sound like this with you?â
Toji rolls his neck, feigning arrogance. âNope. Sheâs louder with me.â
Heâs not wrong. Toji often has you screaming into the pillow as he drags his fat cock in and out of you. Pounds you, for lack of romance. You like how heâs rough and dirty and strong in how he handles you; but thereâs something about the attention Shiu is giving you that makes you dizzy with pleasure.Â
Shiu ignores Toji from there on. His eyes rove over your face, as do his lips. He presses kiss after kiss to your forehead as he fucks you â his moustache tickly against your skin. Itâs damp with your arousal, and you canât help but wonder if heâll smell you on his lips later tonight and remember how you tasted.Â
Of course he will.
The cigarette smoke that lingers in the air fills your lungs, and you turn your head in your haze to find your boyfriend has the waist band of his sweats lowered beneath his balls. His cock is out, but not free â the tight grip he has it in looks near painful. He strokes in time with Shiuâs thrusts into you, taking into account each time he slows to pull back and look at the mess of need you must be.Â
âDonât look at me,â he grumbles when he notices your eyes on him. âYou wanted this. Look at him.â
You feel like youâve been caught red-handed, drooling over the sight of him fisting his leaky cock, but Shiu kisses your cheek and leans down to whisper in your ear before you can break your gaze away. âDonât listen to him. Heâs imagining heâs me. Keep watching him, let him know heâs only half the reason youâre this wet right now.â
Your skin warms. Despite Tojiâs order, you keep watching him. A gentle flush, one that is so unlike your Toji, paints his face pink. Heâs got his lip caught between his teeth, holding a groan in his muscled chest as he watches you and Shiu. Maybe it wouldnât be so bad if you were being fucked silly, on your hands and knees like a whore â but no, Shiu is practically making love to you.Â
Your lips part as you watch your boyfriend experience a surge of a million different feelings. Questions he isnât sure he wants answered; do you prefer the stretch of Shiuâs cock to his? Do you like being worshipped like this? Will you say yes if he asks to make this a regular thing?
âI love you,â falls from your lips in a shaky moan. Though you say it softly, as if to meet only Shiuâs ears, your eyes are still on Toji. âLove how you feel inside of me.â
Tojiâs eyes widen. His hand jerks faster, hips buck up a little from that self-made prison of an armchair. He doesnât know if youâre talking to him or Shiu, and itâs about to send him over the edge. A part of him wants to leap up and pull Shiu off you; fill you with his own cock instead and flood your womb with his release. Another part of him wants to get behind Shiu and fuck into him; let him be the vessel between you that gets to know exactly how the two of you merge to âmake loveâ. Heâd fuck him deep and mean justs to get the message through to you.
But, the part of him that wants to keep his ass planted to the cuck chair and watch his girl take the load of his best friend wins out.Â
âIâm gonna fuckingââ he cracks, choking on his words as his hips stutter and cum shoots all over himself. His black shirt is soaked in the stuff, his fist covered, but he doesnât stop.
Shiu pays him no mind. Itâs hard when you feel this good, wrapped around his cock for the first, and likely only, time in his life. Heâs dreamt of this, convincing Toji to share his score â he is his handler, after all.Â
You want to come, but Shiu is taking his time bringing you to the peak. Usually Toji would just hike a hand around you and rub you âtil you beg for mercy. Shiu, however, seems to like the way you squirm beneath him as he paws at your thighs, pushes them up against your body, and folds you into a mating press.Â
The new depth he reaches inside of you is torturous. You feel so full, yet so unsated at the same time. You wonder how well youâd take them both; whether youâd stretch out to accommodate two cocks at once or if one would have to fill your mouth instead. You want to crawl over to Toji and lick his cock clean, taste something from him as youâre so full of another man.Â
Another glance over at your boyfriend rewards you with the sight of his screwed-up face. His eyes are set on the spot Shiu fucks into you, and he strokes himself into overstimulation. Seems he wonât be left out for even a moment.Â
âFuck,â Shiuâs hips slam forward, skin slapping against skin in a heated rhythm. His chest heaves, and you can tell heâs about to cum â even with how overwhelmed your pussy is, you can feel him twitching inside. âIâm close.â
âNot inside,â Toji growls from his seat. That was his only rule going into this. That, and no butt stuff. Toji reserves your womb and ass for himself.
âI know, asshole,â Shiu grunts. His eyes roam your face once more with a soft (but elastic tight) smile on his face. âWant you to come first. On my cock; Iâll pull out after, okay?â
You can hardly nod. Once again, his fingers come down on your clit, wedged tightly between your moving bodies. He circles it, quick but gentle, and sends you absolutely dizzy with pleasure. You know Toji is still stroking himself as he watches you come undone; and you know heâs probably going to pull another orgasm or two out of you tonight to repair his ego. Your poor cunt.
Your orgasm washes over you quickly, and with enough pressure to force a loud, crying moan from your chest. Your legs shake, eyes squeezing shut as your head spins. You havenât felt this good in⊠ever.Â
Not just because of Shiu; but knowing Toji is watching.Â
Your climax sends Shiu careening over the edge. Heâs quick to pull out, leaving you feeling absolutely lost in your emptiness. He gives his cock a squeeze, as if to stall his orgasm, and looks you over hungrily before⊠pulling away?
Instead of shooting over your stomach or across your pretty face, Shiu leaps off the bed and makes his way over to Toji, whose eyes are wide as his best friend approaches. Heâs not given much time to react before Shiu is taking the back of his head in one hand and feeding the tip of his cock past his lips with the other. Toji chokes on his surprise, and then on the load that Shiu releases into his mouth with a loud groan.Â
Instinctively, he spits. Rivulets of cum drip from his lips, down his chin, and join the mess of his own cum on his stomach and cock. His eyes are wide, a little angry, but his surprise doesnât stop Shiu from pulling back and leaning down to catch your boyfriend's lips in a very messy kiss. Cum and spit is passed between them, paired with loud groans that travel right from them to your still-buzzing clit.Â
You watch from the bed with wide eyes, having just discovered something very interesting about yourself.Â
You wonder if theyâll let you sit in the cuck chair next.Â
àœàœČ Pairings: Spider-Man!Gojo x f!Reader
àœàœČ Content warnings + tags: 18+ MDNI: blood/injury, mild language, brief suggestive tension, emotional vulnerability, mentions of past trauma/injury, friends-to-lovers tension, slow burn maybe, shirtless Gojo in distress (you're welcome)
àœàœČ Synopsis: You always knew something was off. The bruises, the excuses, the way Satoru smiled like nothing was ever wrong. But you never expected to catch your best friend climbing through his dorm window in a torn Spider-Man suitâbleeding, limping, and very, very confused to find you already in his bed. Turns out, the mask was the easy part. Explaining why he kept it from you? Thatâs going to hurt more.
Look, in Satoru Gojoâs defense, he didnât mean to get bitten by a radioactive spider.
It wasnât like he woke up one morning and thought, âYou know what would really spice things up? Permanent genetic mutation.â Noâhe was just eighteen, bored, and dared by his best friends to sneak off during a field trip.
It had been Suguruâs idea, naturally. Haibara backed it up with that reckless grin of his and a, âCome on, Gojo! Donât be a coward.â. And Gojoânever one to turn down a challenge, especially with you watching from the corner of the lab, arms crossed and suspiciousâtook the bait.Â
Next thing he knew, he was sneaking behind the barrier in one of the restricted research wings, alone, because of course his friends had ditched him to go flirt with the grad students.
But then he took one wrong turn, finding himself in a closed-off lab, staring at a glowing containment case he definitely shouldnât have opened. And thenâsnap. Right on the web between his thumb and index finger. Like the thing had been waiting.
Yeah. He got bit. Sue him.
It was small, and honestly, the bite had barely hurt. Youâd scolded him for wandering off, of course. Dragged him out by the sleeve of his lab coat and threatened to tell Yaga about the whole thing. But he never got the chance to explain the bite. Not before the symptoms started.
First came the dizziness. Then the freaky super strength. The creeping sense of pressure in the back of his head every time something bad was about to happen. And then the wall-crawling incident. That one was hard to ignore, especially when it ended with him stuck to the ceiling of the boysâ dorm for two hours before Suguru had found him. He was the only one who knew.
And the weird powers? They never went away.Â
The getting-stuck-to-the-walls thing just got worse. Along with his super strength that he hadnât learned to control, resulting in him accidentally flicking an entire cafeteria tray into Nanamiâs face (which he still hadnât been forgiven for).
The rest, well...it escalated.
He got a mask. A suit. A name.
And for the past few years, heâd been juggling college classes, part-time tutoring, and the occasional city-wide disaster. It wasnât glamorous. He wasnât rich or famous. He still showed up to class ten minutes late with iced coffee and fresh bruises he refused to explain. But someone had to look out for this cityâand it might as well be him.Â
Most nights were spent slinging webs across the skyline, fighting weirdos in mech suits or mind-control cults or whatever flavor of chaos happened to be trending. It wasnât exactly what he had imagined his early twenties would look like, but heyâat least the cardio was good.
Tonight had been one of the rougher ones.Â
The villain had some sort of magnetic field techâdonât ask, heâs still figuring it outâthat completely messed with his web cartridges, which was honestly just rude. His ribs were sore, his suit was torn along the left thigh and shoulder, and he was pretty sure there was dried blood on his chin.Â
All he wanted to do after was crawl into bed and maybe sleep for the next week.
He didnât bother swinging all the way across the city. Not tonight. He cut through a few back alleys, scaled a fire escape, and ducked into the familiar creak of the window that led to his dorm bedroom.
He dropped down inside with a grunt, one leg over the sill and already halfway to peeling off the top half of his suit when he heard it:
A soft rustle. The distinct turn of a page.
His head snapped up.
You were there.
Not a hallucination. Not a dream.Â
Just you, curled up on his bed like you belonged thereâhoodie sleeves pushed up, a paperback balanced on your knees.
You blinked.Â
He blinked.
Both frozen.
And for once, Satoru Gojo had absolutely no idea what to say.
It was almost midnight when your phone buzzed again.
Another text from Gojo.
still working late :( donât wait up
You stared at the message for a second too long, thumb hovering over the screen like you were tempted to cuss him out one more time. But then you rolled your eyes, locked it with a sigh, and tossed the phone onto his nightstand with a quiet thud.
Liar.
âWorking late,â your ass.Â
He always said that. Or some variation of itâmeetings ran long, had to help Yaga with something, emergency tutoring session. All suspicious. All delivered with that same infuriating grin, like he knew you wouldnât push.
Sometimes you did. Sometimes you tried.
But he always wriggled his way out of it, brushing you off with a joke or a wink, or a âGod, you worry too much.â Like caring about him was some kind of thing you shouldâve been embarrassed about.Â
It was infuriating how vague he could really beâalways making it seem like he was out actually doing something normal. But the bruises told you otherwise. The busted knuckles, the limping gait some mornings, the way he winced when he thought you werenât lookingâit all added up to something much bigger than âlate-night tutoring sessionsâ.
Suguru had just looked at you for a long moment before quietly saying, âItâs not my place to tell. Satoruâs justâŠa complicated guy.â
Like you didnât already know that.
Then he paid for your coffee and changed the subject.
Youâd never felt so helpless in your life.
Satoru Gojo was your best friend. Had been since high school. Loud, ridiculous, impossibly smartâannoying, in that way that got on your nerves like it was his full-time job (though, he made it incredibly hard to actually stay mad at him). He was also the one who carried you home on his back when your feet hurt. Who sent you memes when he knew you were upset. He made you laugh. Made you feel safe, even when the rest of the world didnât.
Somewhere along the way, the closeness stopped feeling purely platonic.Â
You never admitted it. Not even to yourselfânot really. But it was there, humming under your skin like static.
And latelyâŠheâd been pulling away. Or maybe hiding something. You werenât sure which felt worse.
He was so secretive. Always brushing things off, changing the subject, vanishing in the middle of plans. Youâd started pretending not to notice. That maybe it was just work, or stress, or something heâd eventually tell you when he was ready.Â
But that excuse had been wearing thin.
So tonight, instead of going back to your own dorm, you waited.
Youâre not even sure why. Stubbornness, maybe. Or something softer you donât want to name.
You were already curled up on his bed, one leg tucked beneath you, a paperback open in your lap as you reread the same sentence three times now. The hoodie you were wearing was one of hisâoversized, soft, with a faded Digimon print on the front and sleeves that fell over your hands. It still smelled like his detergentâthat faint peppermint-and-cotton scent that always made you feel like you were here, with him, even when he wasnât.
His dorm was quiet, except for the occasional shuffle of someone in the hallway and the low hum of traffic outside the cracked window. The room was small and messy, barely big enough for one person, let alone two (he shared with Suguru). His desk was cluttered with open notebooks and loose pens. A pair of round sunglasses rested crooked on top of a physics textbook. The desk chair was pushed back at an angle like he had left in a rush.Â
You turned a page.
And another.
The clock ticked past midnight.
You didnât know why you were still here. Maybe out of spite. Maybe hope. Maybe because you wanted to be there to make sure he was okay. That if he came back again limping or bleeding or cracked open, youâd be the one to catch him.
But deep down, you were hopingâjust a littleâthat tonight would be different. That heâd walk through the door and sit beside you and finally tell you the truth.
You glanced at the window. It was cracked slightly, as always. He insisted that it was for ventilation, but you always suspected it was just another one of his stupid quirks.
You sighed, stretched your legs a little, and settled deeper into the pillows.
If Satoru wanted to keep secrets, fine. He could have his mysteries and his midnight escapades.
But he could at least have the decency to come home before you fell asleep in his bed.
You were just about to give up and call it a night when the window creaked.
Not loud. Just enough to make your head lift.
You blinked once, slowly, glancing up, expecting him to walk through the door like a normal person.
But no.Â
Of course not.
There was movementâa shadow pulling itself over the sill, graceless and muttering.
And then he dropped into the room.
You froze.
So did he.
One leg still hanging out the window, one glove halfway peeled off. His other hand tugged at the edge of a white mask, lifting it high enough to expose his jawâhis bruised, bloody jawâand a familiar mop of white hair.
And your stomach dropped.
He hadnât noticed you yet, not fully. He was grumbling under his breath, tugging at the top half of his suit as he peeled it down to his waist with a wince. His hair was a mess, clinging to his forehead with sweat, and there was a cut on his temple that looked like it hadnât stopped bleeding.
But that wasnât what made your heart stop.
It was the suit.
Mostly black and white. Torn at the sleeve. Streaked with dirt and ash. And right at the center of his chest, printed in bright, unmistakable blueâ
A spider emblem.
Your breath caught.
He looked up. Finally saw you.
And everything in the room justâstopped. He was like a deer caught in headlights.
You felt your heart kind of stutter, because itâs him. Itâs Satoru. Exceptâitâs not.
You stared at him.
Then at the suit.
Then back at him.
Your mouth dropped open. There is no way. No fucking wayâŠ
Youâve seen Spider-Man beforeâbut who hasnât? He was on the news, in blurry tabloid photos, grainy clips online. The masked vigilante who swung in to stop a building collapse downtown. The guy who took on four robbers at once outside the Midtown bank. The same one whoâ
âsaved you once.
But that had been months ago.
And he hadnât said a word.
Just lifted you out of danger, bridal style, and disappeared before you could even thank him. Youâd told yourself it couldâve been anyone.
But now, with him standing in front of youâtorn suit, wild hair, and a look of complete panic settling across his features?
There was no denying it.
The book you were barely reading slipped from your lap, hitting the mattress with a dull thump.
âYâYouâre Spidermââ you start, the words tumbling out before your brain can catch up.
His eyes went wide.
âNOPEâNOPE NOPE NOPEââ he yelped, practically throwing himself across the room.
You shot to your feet, voice rising. âYouâre Spider-Mâ!â
âSHHHHHââ His palm slammed over your mouth mid-sentence.
Your hands flew up in protest, eyes wide, muffled complaints coming fast and still loud. He looked equally horrified and apologetic, the panic written all over his face.
âStop talking. Stopâpleaseâshhh. Youâre gonna give me a heart attack.â He glanced wildly at the window, as if worried someone mightâve heard you from four stories below. âWhy are you here?! Why are youâwhy are you awake?!â
You glared up at him.
He winced, looking like he was two seconds away from passing out. âRight. Yeah. Okay. Thatâs a dumb question. But this is fine. Totally fine. Normal, even.â he muttered mostly to himself.
You raised a disbelieving eyebrow.
âOkay, not normal,â he amends quickly, eyes darting around like the room might start recording him. âBut manageable. Kind of. If you justâstop screaming and donât say the name againâ"
You swatted at his hand until he finally took the hint. He slowly peeled it away from your mouth, like you might bite him. You didnâtâbut only barely. You gaped at him for another beat. Your eyes flicked back to his suit, to the emblem, to the blood on his temple. âYouâre Spider-Man?!â
âThatâsâŠum.â He scratched the back of his head, grinning weakly. âA surprisingly complicated question, actually.â
Your hands flew up again. âAre you insane?!â
âOkay see, thatâs more fairââ
âYouâve been lying to me this entire timeââ
âNot lying,â he said, holding up both hands like he could Jedi-mind-trick you into chilling out. âJust, you know. Withholding certain city-saving, occasionally life-threatening detailsâŠâ
You were still too stunned to speak. Your pulse was thundering in your ears.
Satoru Gojoâyour idiot best friendâwas the Spider-Man.
âWhat the fuck, Satoru?!â
âI can explain!â
âCan you?!â
â...Well, no. But I will! Eventually!â
There was another beat of tense silence. Then you both spoke at the same time.
âYouâre a superheroââ
âYou were not supposed to be hereââ
Another pause.
You looked at him again. This tall, ridiculous man in front of you, standing in his half-peeled suit, covered in bruises, and desperately trying to hold it together with pure denial.
And you couldnât help it.
You bursted out laughing.
âYouâre Spider-Man?â you ask again, still breathless. âYou trip over your own feet walking across campus.â
He pouted, deeply offended. âI donât tripâokay, that was one time, and the floor was weird.â
You shook your head, a hundred questions forming at once. None of them left your mouth.
Because suddenly, everythingâevery late-night excuse, every wince, every disappearing actâmade a terrifying kind of sense.
And it hit you, like gravity finally catching up, that heâd been doing this alone.
So, the laughter faded. Slowly. The corners of your mouth still twitched, but your chest felt tight again. It didnât just disappear completelyâbut it quieted. Simmering beneath the weight of everything youâd come to realize.
Satoru looked at you, and you looked at himâthis idiot, this liar, this half-dressed, scraped-up mess of a best friendâ was still standing there, scuffed and bloody and too tired to keep the smile on his face. His shoulders were tense. His eyesâusually so loud, so annoyingly brightâwere justâŠquiet. You felt everything all at once. Relief. Anger. Confusion. That familiar knot of worry that always settled in your stomach whenever he came home bloodied.
But mostly? You were hurt.
You crossed your arms over your chest, with a pout matching his own, âWhy didnât you tell me?â It hadnât meant to come out so quietly, a little too raw.
He flinched as if you slapped him. âIâI wasnât trying to keep it from you, I justââ
You stepped back before he could get any closer. âNo, seriously. Donât start with that. You lied. You disappeared. You let me sit here for months, wondering where you were. You let me think you were just being a dumbass, going out and getting into fights for fun, when you were out there risking your life every single night.â
He flinched again. You hated that he looked so small sitting there with his arms half out of his suit. Like he knew heâd messed up and didnât know how to fix it.
âSuguru knew,â you snapped. âAnd not me. Do you have any idea how shitty that feels?â
His mouth openedâthen closed. He scrubbed a hand through his hair, like he didnât know where to start.
âOkay, that wasnâtâon purpose,â he said eventually. âHe walked in on me stuck to the ceiling of our dorm one night. I was still figuring everything out, and he⊠just found out. I didnât tell him. He saw. And I couldnât really explain that away, could I?â
You didnât say anything. You just stared. Because you believed that partâbut it didnât fix the ache.
He looked up at you then, eyes wide and a little too honest.
âLook, youâre right. I shouldâve told you. I justâŠI didnât want you to know,â he admitted.Â
That made your eyes narrow. âWhat?â
He exhaled, long and rough-sounding. âNot because I donât trust you. Itâs the opposite.â
âSatoruââ
âIâm serious,â he said, cutting you off. âIâve seen what happens. Bad guys figure out who matters. They look for leverage, and people get caught in the middle. People I care about. I didnât want to put a target on your back. If anything ever happened to you because of meââ
His voice broke off shakily, swallowing hard. âI wouldnât survive it,â he said, quieter. âIâd never forgive myselfâŠâ
You blinked, feeling your throat tighten. âBut Iâve always been there,â you said, voice barely above a whisper. âWhether I knew or not. I was already close. That didnât change anything. You justâŠkept me in the dark.â
He just looked at you like you were breaking his heart. âI knowâŠIâm sorry, okay? I didnât want to lie to you. I justâwanted to keep you safe.â
There was a long, slow silence. Your shoulders sagged. The tension in your chest didnât disappear, but it softened.
ââŠYouâre such an idiot,â you muttered, stepping forward and tugging at his wrist. âSit down before you fall over.â
He obeyed without argument, slowly sinking onto the edge of the bed with a quiet wince. You didnât wait for permissionâyou turned on your heel and disappeared into his tiny bathroom, hands trembling as you opened the cabinet under the sink.
You needed a minute to breathe. To focus on something real, like disinfectant and gauze pads. Something you could control.
When you returned with the first aid kit, he hadnât moved. He looked up at you with those stupidly blue eyes like he expected you to throw it at his head (which he definitely deserved).
Instead, you knelt down in front of him, pulling the kit open with practiced fingers. âYou look like shit.â
âThanks,â he mumbled, smiling just a little.
âYou donât have to do this alone, you know,â you said, your voice fell quiet again. It wasnât meant to sound so soft, but it was the truth.
He didnât say anything, but he held your gaze.
You gestured toward his shoulder. âSuit.â
His eyebrows shot up.
âFor the wound, asshole.â
âOh. Right.â He winced, hesitating for a moment before he peeled the rest of the top down, the fabric sticking to a bloody scrape along his ribs. His chest was broad and flushed in patches of bruised skin and dried blood. Strong. Vulnerable.
Your fingers trembled slightly as you reached for the gauze. You tried not to look too long, but your gaze lingered. On the muscles shifting beneath his skin. On the curve of his neck, the dip of his collarbones, the pale trail of a healing scar across his ribs that youâd never seen before. His chest rose and fell, shallow and slow.
Your pulse fluttered, and it made you angryâbecause he was reckless and stupid and hadnât told you anything. And it made you terrified, because you didnât want to think about what couldâve happened if he hadnât made it home tonight.
He winced when you dabbed the cut a little too firmly. âBaby,â you teased, gently. âYou jumped off a building tonight. I think you can handle a little antiseptic.â
He snorted in response, smiling just a little, but it was smaller than usual. More tired. âThatâs rich, coming from the person who cries during animal rescue commercials.â
The silence stretched. Your fingers moved more slowly, feeling the tension between you suddenly shift. It softened, changed shape.
You realized you were still kneeling between his knees, still tending to the bruise blooming down the side of his chest, and his eyes hadnât left you once. When your hand brushed along the exposed skin, his jaw ticked.
The air felt warmer now. Thicker. His eyes flicked from your eyes to your lips. Yours flicked to his.Â
And he leaned in. Just barely.
And you let him.
Your heart stuttered against your ribs once more, this time for a very different reason. Your lips parted slightlyâ
âand then the door swung open.
âHey, Satoru, have you seen myââ Suguruâs voice cut off midway.
Both you and Satoru whipped your heads around, flustered, wide-eyed, practically jumping apart.
Suguru stood in the doorway, eyes landing on you. Then Satoru. Then the awkward tangle of limbs and exposed skin between you.
There was a beat of silence as he blinked. But then he smirked. âOops,â he said, backing up with his hands raised into the air. âMy bad.â
The door clicked shut behind him.
Then, slowly, you sat back, pressing the gauze firmly to his chest like it was his fault. âTell him if he walks in like that again, I will kill him.â
Satoru coughed, trying and failing to look innocent. âTechnically, he does live here.â
You glared. âWhatever.â
And this time, he laughed.
You cleaned the last of the cuts in silence, fingers steadier now. The sharp edge of anger had dulled into something quieter. Something that felt like grief, maybe. Or relief. A kind of tenderness you werenât sure what to do with.
And it wasnât awkward between you anymore. Just heavy. Full of things unsaid.
You taped down the last bit of gauze and let your hand restâbrieflyâagainst the uninjured part of his chest. The warmth of his skin. The steady beat of his heart beneath your palm.
He didnât move.
You knew he was still watching you. He always watched you like thisâlike he was memorizing the shape of you. Like he was afraid youâd disappear if he blinked.
And maybe you wouldâve. If things were different.
When you finally sat back on your heels, you expected him to deflect. To joke. To shove it all down again, the way he always did when things got too real.
But he didnât.
Instead, his voice came low. Careful. Afraid he didnât deserve to ask.
ââŠCan you stay?â
You looked up at him. Really lookedâat the bruises, the bandages, the blood still drying in his hair. But more than thatâŠyou saw all of it. The fear. The loneliness. The guilt heâd never once said out loud.
You wanted to yell at him again. Or maybe hold him forever.
But instead, you just nodded. Quietly. Without hesitation.
Because he didnât need to ask.
Because you were already here.
Because youâd always stay.
And that was enough.
Author's Note: I've had this oneshot in my drafts forever now, but I was feeling inspired by Only One's Who Know by @indiewritesxoxo, because this superhero au of Gojo and Geto is chef's kiss. And I HIGHLY recommend you guy's go give it a read (I'm addicted)!
As always my lovelies, if you enjoyed, a repost is always appreciated! <3
divider: @strangergraphics! | Art by: @aliyartss on instagram
thinking about katsuki who just can't focus while he's training with you. he normally has no issue but you look so distracting in your workout gear with your hair messy, skin sweaty, and chest heavingâŠ
and he's been thirsting after you 24/7 this week and he hasn't masturbated in a while and suddenly he's thinking with his cock instead of his head. he's losing too easily and you obviously know it, but katsuki doesn't want to fix it. he wants you to pin him down so he gets to have you on top of him
eventually you pin him one too many times and you start going off on him, irritated that he isn't even trying. and oh that gets him so hard, hearing you snap and talk back at him while you're straddling his stomach. just a little too far up for him to rut against you
he just grabs your hips and slides you back so he can grind his cock up against you. your face changes so quick once you realize he's just been horny this whole time
notes -> i like thinking about katsuki just getting so horny for u he'll do things he'd never do normally like ughhhh hot af
you give katsuki an edible for the first time and instead of getting relaxed heâs 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, âfuck, why didnât i do this sooner?â
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 tasteâor maybe four bitesâof your 6-ingredient step brownies, he didnât think hours later he would be here. he blames you, but heâs wouldnât say this was in his plans.
heâs never wanted to feel you milk his dick for his cum and splash him with yours more than ever, and thatâs 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 thisâwell, 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 couldâbut your eyes are rolled back and your mouth is open, and the only thing you really can do is mewl and pant.
âfuckfuck, shitââ he hisses, snapping his hips into yours as he circles his thumb harshly around your clit, âfeels so good baby, so good.â itâs 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, âyou like it, baby?â 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. âi know you do, baby. i know you do. gave your man a nice treat, and now you get yours, huh?â
you donât 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
shouta pretends not to make a big deal over his godlike physique in bed. not that you have time to verbalize it when he's spearing you on his cock as the warm up part of his exercise routine. unless, he's busy making a slick mess of his own cum all over his six pack abs.
when he's balls deep, it's criminal - those beefy arms, veins that bulge with each flex of his biceps and his tendency to trap both of your wrists behind the small of your back with only one large hand. he claims it's just his natural instinct at this point, having subdued and disarmed countless villains with similarly swift movements.
no way would he fuck a villain like this, though. he reserves a special type of brutality when it comes to splitting his girlfriend in half, one that doesn't involve his capture weapon. he doesn't need it, not with a lover who offers her sweet body up so willingly. your submission feeds his ego unlike anything else, a drug he'll forever be addicted to. to your dismay, not all positions make it possible to witness his masterfully sculpted abs flex and broad chest heave.
the solution had its downsides, forcing him to pull out just as he's about to cum. but hell, was it worth it - hearing the slap of his massive cock slapping against his stomach and leaking pre cum down his shaft. the rapid stroking of his cock that slows near his tip when he's right there. the guttural groans torn from his throat as each jerk of his hips has even more cum pooling near his happy trail.
outside of the bedroom, don't actually remind him how fucking sexy he is. there's a slim chance he'll take your word for it, but it gives him more of an incentive to work out.
shoto coming home after a long day and all he wants is for you to sit on his cock and bounce up and down while heâs relaxing on the couch. heâs blinking up at you with lidded eyes, lips parted letting out soft groans and hands gripped into the plush of your hips.
âkeep going.â itâs almost a plea. your thighs are burning and youâre panting, trying your hardest to keep your rhythm but you falter, pressing against his chest and grinding against him. âgot you.â he kisses the side of your head.
he secretly loves when you get too tired and he gets to use you, fucking you up and down like his personal pocket pussy. his fingers digging into your skin, his breath coming out in shallow pants while all your noises spill directly into his ear. when you cum, little stars spackle his vision as he fucks up into you harder, faster, using your pussy until heâs spent.
Um Iâm 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 đ« putting u through the mattress is so perfect
BIG REACTION.
bakugou loves getting a reaction out of you.
whatâs 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.
âwhereâs the key i made you?â
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. itâs old merchandise he sold a few years back that you insist is your comfiest tee. youâre 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, heâs got your pretty face twisted in one too.
âitâs six am, kats.â you huff, opening the door wider to let him stomp in, head to toe in his hero gear.
heâs careful not to track any mud or dirt when he steps onto your doormat. heâs 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. youâre having a halfhearted strop.
itâs at this point he decides what he wants.
âi fuckinâ know. i just did an eighteen hour.â he replies, looking to your pouted lips to how your t-shirt rides up with your crossed arms. youâre always so soft when youâre sleepy. âi left my keys at the agency. i forgot to pick them up.â
he wonders if youâre 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, âyou wearinâ panties under that?â
you roll your eyes, tutting loud and annoyed. âno âgood morning baby.â no, âyou look so beautiful this morning. sorry for waking you up.â youâre asking if i have panties on. i should kick you out on the street.â
bakugouâs smirk grows, he can deal with you pissy in the morning. in fact, this is exactly how he wants you. looking at him like heâs dirt on the bottom of your shoe, ready to slap him across his face for being crude.
heâs 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. thereâs 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 donât give him a new lease of life.
âgood morning my sweet baby,â 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, âbeen thinkinâ about you.â
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 heâs 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 youâre 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. youâre one big reactive nerve for your boyfriend, ready to jump and rub up on him like a cat in heat.
âsorry for wakinâ you from your beauty sleep, princess,â 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, âis that enough for you?â
at that, you yank out of his grip, slapping his hand off your face. âwhy are you being so annoying?â you whine, spinning around to go back to your bedroom. âdonât follow me!â
bakugouâs always been good with following rules but heâs 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. thereâs a box of condoms on the side of your bed he claimed, left from the last time he was around.
ânuh-uh, i meant it. sorry for wakinâ you. i know you hate morninâs,â he brushes his lips against your ear when he speaks, his hands finding your waist and heâs not surprised by how you lean into him.
âyou need to go shower, stinky,â you mumble with a pout.
despite everything, youâre a fool for his attention.
âi will, i will,â 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. heâs 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.
âah, so you do have panties on,â 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, âouch, idiot. obviously, i do.â
your fiery glare serves as loving warmth and heat at bakugouâs 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. youâre fighting against him with that cute little pout. bakugou likes when youâre about to snap, he hardly gets you like this.
âyâgonna let me take âem off, beautiful?â he plays, rubbing his thumbs over the fabric of them, your pubic hair peeping out the top.
you pinch his bronzed side, âno. say sorry and greet me properly.â
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.
âiâm not sorry for wakinâ you up. i wanted to see you,â bakugou knows the rules. happy life, happy wife. agree with everything your girlfriend says. but heâs 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, youâre both levelled with how quiet it is.
âsay sorry for forgetting your keys and making me climb out of bed to get you.â
âbut then i wouldnât have you and your little attitude lookinâ like you wanna bite me.â
you flick his forehead, your voice in need of some water this early, âso this is an attempt to seduce me? annoying me out of my panties?â
bakugou shakes his head with a grin, his hair thick with the grime of the day. âi donât needa seduce you anymore. i bet i could slide right in. i bet you want me to.â
you shake your head, crossing your arms over your chest. you refuse to touch him but your legs stay put.
ânot true. we arenât kids in a playground. you donât have to be mean because you have a crush on me.â
âmore than a crush. i love you,â 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.
âyou havenât even kissed me hello,â you whine, gritting your teeth. âyouâve been mean to me.â
he lays a kiss to the corner of your lips. âis that all my baby wants? just a kiss?â
heâs 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, âiâve been telling you.â
âyeah? sorry, baby. itâs been a long day, fâme,â bakugou grins against your lips before slotting his over yours.
he focuses on your bottom lip. sucking your flesh until itâs tender, feeling all your limbs tighten around him and your hips rub against his cock. youâre so reactive when youâre 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, âkats,â bakugou tilts his head to slink his tongue into your mouth. itâs wet, messy and slow. he works you like youâre 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.
itâs you thatâs 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.
âkats, please,â 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.
âwhat, baby?â he grunts, so sure his arousal has taken over his face. âsay it to me.â
âtake off my panties. let me feel you,â you say loud and clear, never shy about your needs. bakugouâs 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 heâs distracted by something, âmight need you to take off the tee too. donât wanna be lookinâ at my face when iâm lovinâ you.â
you look down at his crumpled face, mid cursing in his hero uniform on your tee. âdonât wanna. itâs cold.â you pull up the fabric, resting it all on your breasts to reveal your stomach. âthere.â
bakugou grunts, shoving the fabric under your chin. your breasts rise and fall with every breath and he doesnât miss the goosebumps that prickle around your nipples, âthere we go. iâll keep you warm.â
you roll your eyes, a smile about to break, âget naked, hero. then i can go back to sleep.â
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. heâs 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, âyou have a bruise! where were your sidekicks? did you take them?â
bakugou is quick to shush you, âwasnât from patrol. was sparrinâ with them.â
âoh,â you whisper, resting your hand over the purplish spot, bakugou adjusts to shuffle out of his shorts and underwear in one go. âthey need to go easier on you.â
then you look between his legs. you hope he doesnât go easy on you.
âno the fuck they donât. i let them have this one. they didnât get ninety nine percent of their shots.â he replies, taking his cock in his hand before you can.
bakugou has a gorgeous cock, one you speak about when youâve had too many cocktails and beg for when he walks out the shower with a towel low on his waist. youâre 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.
bakugou smirks, just like he knows how to rile you up, you know how to him. âyou sure you wanna talk like this now?â
you smile, ignoring him, âget a condom, youâre already leaking.â
you brush your thumb over his head, swiping his pre and sticking it in your mouth.
âfuck,â bakugou gulps, stretching to grab one from his bedside table. âyou win, whatever.â
âyay me.â
itâs exactly what you both wanted. bakugou stuffs a pillow under your back, grips your hips and slides completely into you.
youâre a little tight this morning with no foreplay but itâs a stretch you welcome. bakugouâs already panting, stumbles of swears and even a âget it to-fuckinâ-gether,â to himself when you accidentally clench around him.
âh-hold on, baby,â 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.
âyou good?â he flicks his gaze away from where you join to your face, lips parted.
âhm, yeah. there we go,â you only needed a few seconds. âmove. move, kats.â
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.
heâs already given you his soul, but during sex is when he offers you more and more.
âi love you. fuckinâ love you so much,â he stutters through pants. every thrust louder with a pat pat pat. âbeen thinkinâ about you all day. cominâ to you. seeinâ your lil face.â
youâre listening to every word but you canât manage to reply to each comment. âfaster, baby. harder.â
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 youâre his north star guiding him home. he plants his knees into your mattress and thrusts. harder, controlled yet always careful of you.
âoh fuck,â 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. âfuck, fuck, fuck, kats. oh, i love you. love this so much.â
youâre rambling, unable to think straight and the harder bakugou goes, your headboard begins to rattle against the wall.
you both couldnât care less.
itâs a bundle of moans, body parts that have no beginning or end. your bonnet is falling off your head, some of bakugouâs 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.
âpillow. under your head baby,â he reminds you and as soon as you move to grab it, heâs back to those sweet skilful thrusts.
one hand on your clit, another flat on his clenched abdomen.
âyouâre soâ,â you start, losing yourself as a spark of electricity shakes down your legs. your dam is about to break any second now. âso beautiful.â
bakugou huffs, sweat beads bumbling on his forehead. your breasts jiggle with every motion, your hand falling on his chest with every shake.
âthank you, baby. youâre everythinâ to me. you know that.â
you nod, eyes lazed, âi do. i know.â 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. âiâm gonna come. iâm gonna come, baby.â
bakugou keeps up his pace, ignoring the tightness of his lower stomach. youâre always first. âiâll look after you. come on, baby.â
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.
âthanks for that. needed it,â 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.
âyouâre welcome,â you giggle before turning into a downturned smile, âwe need to showerâ.â
bakugou pulls up the duvet over your bodies, mentally resigned, âno, we can do that when we wake up and change the sheets.â
âbutâ,â
âyouâre about to fall asleep. let yourself,â he whispers, adjusting your tee down your body and spooning you from behind. he kisses the top of your head, âgoodnight, baby.â
âitâs the morning.â
âi said goodnight.â
bakugou looks for your snappy reply back but youâre already gone, fast asleep with a palm under your head.
comments and reblogs are appreciated. no part 2 comments, thanks!
The most vulnerable youâll ever catch Megumi is completely naked, stretched out on top of you with nothing between your bare skin and his, just like right now.
His weight feels perfect, heavy in the best way, chest pressed flush to yours so you feel every breath he takes. One of his hands cradles the side of your face, thumb stroking slow circles over your cheekbone, while the other grips your hand tightly. His cock is buried deep inside you and he rocks into you with these slow thrusts that drag against every sensitive inch. Heâs never in a rush. Never.
âMegumiâŠâ Your voice comes out shaky as he pushes in again slowly. Your walls flutter around him and he lets out this quiet breath against your neck.
âShh.. Iâve got you,â he murmurs, voice low and a little rough. He pulls back until just the tip is stretching you open, then sinks back in so deep your toes curl. Every thrust is thought through, his hips rolling in this steady rhythm that grinds his pelvis against your clit on every downstroke. He kisses the corner of your mouth, then your jaw, breath hot against your skin.
âLook at me.â
You do. Those dark blue eyes are half-lidded and locked on yours. He squeezes your hand harder and thrusts a little deeper, angling his hips until he hits that spot that makes your back arch. A soft, needy sound slips out of you, he swallows it with a slow kiss, tongue brushing yours like heâs tasting how good you feel.
âFuck, youâre... so perfect,â he whispers against your lips. Your thighs tremble around his waist, yet he doesnât speed up, he just keeps that same devastatingly slow pace, grinding in circles while heâs buried into you, letting you feel every inch of him stretching you, worshipping you. Your free hand slides down to grip his ass, pulling him closer and he makes this low sound in his throat.
âYeah⊠just like that.â He presses his forehead to yours, breathing with you as the pleasure builds heavy in your belly. Every time he pulls out, your pussy clenches like it doesnât want to let him go. Every time he pushes back in, you feel so full it borders on too much. Youâre getting close, your legs are shaking, your breath is coming in short gasps. Megumi notices, of course he does. He shifts just a fraction, changing the angle and starts rocking into that perfect spot over and over, still slow but firmer now.
âCome on,â he says quietly, voice strained. âLet me feel you. I want to feel you come around me.â
It hits you hard, waves of pleasure crashing through your body as your pussy spasms tight around his cock, soaking him. You moan his name into his shoulder, nails digging into his back as he keeps moving through it. Only then does he let himself chase it. His thrusts get a little deeper, a little less controlled, hips stuttering as he buries his face in your neck.
âI love you,â he breathes. âFuck⊠I love you.â
He comes with a quiet groan, cock pulsing inside you as he fills you up. He stays there afterward, your bodies still locked together and breathing hard.
Because Megumi never fucks. He loves. And when he loves, he makes sure you feel every single bit of it.
