pairing: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader x izuku midoriya
summary: you end up pregnant and refuse to tell your brother, katsuki, who the father is. because it's none other than izuku…
tags: aged up characters, lots of swearing, confession about who the father is, silly & wholesome fluff, older brother!katsuki, use of y/n, izuku & reader hooking up / dating, younger sister!reader
your parents had always thought that katsuki was the problem child out of the two of you. that if it was one of their kids, katsuki would be the one that accidentally got a girl pregnant.
and yet here you were, trying to find the right words to explain to your brother that you were pregnant, while keeping the identity of the kid's father a secret.
“you have to be fucking kidding me!”
katsuki groaned and shook his head as you told him the news. “can't you be at least a little careful? fuck, mom and dad are going to kill you–!!”
you sighed, already a few tears in your eyes, which you quickly wiped away. that stupid pregnancy was really making you more emotional than usual.
“i know, i know. i fucked up, kats… just please, help me calm them down when i tell them about this”
katsuki thought for a moment, before he rolled his eyes.
“fine! but you gotta tell me all about the baby or else i won't be able to back you up. like, who's the father?”
you immediately went silent and looked away.
“y/n! do you not know who the fucking father is!?”
katsuki ruffled his hand through his hair in frustration and sighed.
“i do know who the father is!”
you snapped back at him, causing your brother to raise an eyebrow.
“well, then hurry up and tell me who the fuck he is!”
you hesitated and shook your head.
“you'll kill him, katsuki! i know you!”
“idiot, i won't kill anyone for you. just mess him up a little…”
knowing your brother, it was clear he wasn't joking. he'd gladly get in a fight with whichever guy got you pregnant.
“katsuki!”
“fine, fine… no violence, got it. just tell me his name!”
“but you gotta promise you won't hurt him…”
katsuki hesitated and rolled his eyes, nodding softly.
“yeah, i promise. now hurry the fuck up and tell me his name!”
you paused and took a deep breath.
“alright… it's izuku!”
for a moment, katsuki was completely quiet, processing your words, until he finally snapped.
“DEKU!? you've been fucking DEKU of all people? and you're pregnant from HIM!?”
a lot of thoughts went through katsuki's head all at once, until he realized the most terrifying thing about that.
“wait, if you'll have his child, then… then he'll be family–!”
katsuki almost fainted at that realization.
“no, that's it! i'm killing him! ain't no way my little sister is going to be with him!”
can we see something where katsuki and reader finds out shes pregnant while their in ua? (3rd year/college) and their friends reactions tooo? ty! 🤍
──★ ˙👶 ̟ !! Not Just Heroes Anymore
⋆. 𐙚 ˚ || katsuki bakugo x reader, fluff
The sun barely reached past the frost-glazed windows of Heights Alliance that morning. You were staring down at the white plastic stick in your shaking hands, tucked away in the small dormitory bathroom that now felt like a church—solemn, quiet, filled with confession. Your heart had already leapt long before the result bled through, but there it was—solid, undeniable. You hadn't cried at first. You just sat down, palms on your knees, the ghost of your breath catching in your throat.
Two pink lines.
It had started as a joke with Mina a few days earlier. “You’ve been more tired than usual,” she teased, poking your cheek. “And you passed on spicy ramen. You're either heartbroken or hosting a tiny person.”
You’d brushed it off, laughed it into the air like a feather. But then you counted—four weeks late. The night before, you snuck out with a hoodie over your head, face half-hidden, and bought the test from the convenience store near the back of campus, the cashier too deep into his own night shift haze to care.
The bathroom door opened without a knock, because Katsuki Bakugo never knocked. You froze.
He blinked. “Why the hell are you cryin’?” His voice wasn’t angry. Just… concerned. Guarded.
You didn't answer. You simply turned the stick around and held it out like a surrender.
His eyes locked on it. And for a second—a full, holy second—time didn’t move.
“…That what I think it is?” he said quietly.
You nodded.
He sat down. No explosion. No curse. Just silence, and then—
“Fuck.”
He ran a hand down his face, and when he looked up, his eyes weren’t scared. They were serious.
“I’m not leavin’ you alone with this,” he said, voice a rasp. “You hear me?”
Your relationship wasn’t always soft, but it was steady. Started in second year, in-between bruised hands and late-night study sessions. You understood his silences; he understood your sharp words. You never needed to post about each other, but your toothbrushes stayed beside one another. That kind of love.
But the world outside still expected heroes, not seventeen-year-olds with children. And now, a child was growing in the space between all your plans.
It was Mina who cornered you first.
“You’ve been weird.” She squinted. “Like, Deku-level stressed.”
You looked at Bakugo across the common room, who gave you a tiny nod like, it’s your call.
So you sighed and whispered, “I’m pregnant.”
Mina froze. “You—what?”
“Two months along, maybe. We’re still figuring it out.”
Kirishima dropped his protein bar. “Wait. Like… pregnant-pregnant?!”
“Seriously?” Denki blinked. “Wait—wait. Are we being pranked?
You stepped forward. Your hands were shaking a little, but your voice wasn’t. “No prank. I’m really really pregnant.”
Mina’s eyes filled before her mouth even moved. “Oh my god, you two made a baby baby?? Like—actual baby? In UA?? How??”
Kirishima was the first to react—really react. He stepped forward and gave Katsuki a shove, then pulled him into a crushing bro-hug. “Man, I’m gonna be the best uncle-slash-bodyguard ever.”
Denki blinked like he was buffering. “Wait, are you guys like… okay? I mean—holy shit.”
Mina broke the silence by grabbing your hands. “You’re gonna be amazing. Both of you. And that baby is gonna have the most emotionally constipated dad and the fiercest mom ever.”
Bakugo scoffed. “I’m right here.”
(Later That Night)
You sat in Bakugo’s room, legs tangled, your head on his chest. The silence was heavier than usual.
“You scared?” you asked softly.
He kissed the top of your head. “Shitless,” he muttered. “But I’ve fought villains bigger than this. And you—” he paused, fingers brushing your stomach. “—you’re the only person I’d do this with.”
You turned to him, eyes glassy.
“Promise me we won’t lose who we are,” you said.
He tucked a hand under your chin and kissed you, slow and certain.
if you vote me for president i vow to make everything the ocean again. no more land only ocean. this will solve all of our problems and replace them with new, far more interesting problems
[looking at people younger than me] you have your whole life ahead of you [looking at people older than me] you have your whole life ahead of you [looking at myself] its over
𖦹 jean kirstein loves strawberry ice cream after sex. ( 18+ )
the first time you and jean became intimate, you casually mentioned how much you were craving strawberry ice cream. without a word, jean rushed out of bed and didn't come back for a couple of minutes. you remember being slightly concerned, wondering if you said something wrong.
when he came back with a tub of strawberry ice cream and two spoons, you knew he was the one. ever since then, it's become a crucial part of your aftercare ritual.
tonight is no different. you stand leaning against his kitchen counter, wearing nothing but his button down you practically ripped off fourty five minutes ago. you've got the ice cream container sat open, twirling the sweat swirls of red against your spoon. the flavor on your tounge feels like heaven on earth. you sway your hips softly to the quiet music playing in your head. jean stands behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, swaying alongside you humming your favorite song softly.
it's the quiet moments like these that you crave the most. you feel nothing but the calm satisfaction coming from your core and the warmth in your chest knowing that you've found your soulmate already.
sometimes, like tonight, jean doesn't use a spoon, he can't keep his lips off yours long enough to find it necessary.
wrote this while eating strawberry ice cream in my kitchen at 1am. he's always in my head i need help
going stupid on captain levi's cock! ₊˚⊹♡ ⇾ might be ooc (soz), lowk captain kink, p in v, etc
“no one said stop. so keep going.”
tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill down your cheeks and onto levi’s bare skin. your thighs were shaking, your pussy aching from the overstimulation as a result of the past two rounds.
you knew levi had inhuman stamina when it came to everything else, so you weren’t sure what led you to believe that wouldn’t translate to sex.
his hands were cold and tight where they held your hips, doing nothing but providing an anchor between you and unconsciousness. he wasn’t helping you move at all, simply just digging his nails into your skin to get you going again.
“i-i can’t,” you whimpered, clenching your muscles to try and obey. “i’m sorry, captain."
levi scoffed at the use of his official title, a single rut of his hips forcing a cry out of you, the tip of cock hitting places you could never dream of reaching with just your fingers. you’d braced yourself for more, but he stilled– one hand released your hip, going up to grip your jaw and making you look at him through bleary eyes.
“you can,” his encouragement was strained, his own composure slowly starting to slip the longer he stayed inside of you without moving. “if you can keep up with me out there, you can keep up with me here.”
he let himself fall back to lean on the wall, watching you expectantly as you panted, thighs shaking as you strained. your legs felt unstable and your brain was practically mush so the second you attempted to start riding him again you only managed to push yourself up not even halfway before you collapsed on his chest.
you whimpered at the sound of him scoffing, your fingertips digging into the skin of his shoulders while you apologized profusely into his skin. “m’sorry, cap–”
before you could finish, his hips were rutting up into you, the length piercing through you again and making your stomach bulge out slightly with his movements. you screamed, thanking whatever gods existed that the stone walls did a relatively decent job at containing the noise inside.
“mmph! shit, captain!” you cried out, gasping as he tugged you closer by your jaw, his composed breath warming your face. your eyes were wide as you stared into his– the slightest bit of desperation masked behind his equanimity.
“stop callin’ me that.”
levi’s grunts blended perfectly with your moans, neither of you breaking eye contact despite the desperate need you had to let them roll to the back of your head. you blinked at him through damp lashes, seeing the slight furrow in his eyebrows whenever you tightened around him.
you could feel his tip just barely graze your soft spot, more tears falling down your cheeks due to the anticipation that he was nearly there. however, when he pulled you into him further, kissing your lips in a confusing rough yet gentle manner, his hips shifted ever so slightly, thrusting into it with such precision that you felt you might pass out.
your jaw fell slack, forehead pressing into his as a small string drool slipped out the corner of your mouth. “levi! fuck, right there, please don’t stop!”
his hand dropped to slap the plush skin of your ass, letting it rest there while he sped up– his shorter stature irrelevant to his strength. he finally let his restraint slip, head falling back onto the wall while he kept his eyes on you, watching the way your eyes had fallen shut, mind completely gone and solely focused on the pleasure only he could provide you.
levi couldn’t help the smirk that appeared on his face– watching one of his strongest members fall apart on him again was truly the sight.
the slightest ache began to bloom in his legs, the tightening of his muscles not going unnoticed despite the state you were in. your hand came down to his abs, pushing him flush to the mattress while simultaneously using it as support to ride him again.
he moaned out at the pressure on his stomach, letting himself relax as you retook the reins.
“atta girl, just like that, hm?” he praised, starting to lose himself in you. “gonna cum on me again?”
you nodded rapidly, face warm and words no longer an option. levi scoffed, that lazy smile resting on his face knowing your tells.
“keep going. you’re doin’ so well.”
note: OMFG I ACTUALLY START TWEAKING EVERY TIME I SEE THIS MAN LIKE MMMMPGHHG anyway... i'm back! academic probation was NAWT fun but i locked in and everything is fine now :) focus rn is clearing out my requests, but i hope this holds everyone over for now <3, lynn
The heavy leather cuffs were securely fastened to the iron headboard, completely locking Katsuki’s thick, scarred wrists in place. He violently tugged against the restraints, the muscles in his broad shoulders and vascular forearms flexing brutally as he tried to find even an inch of slack. The metal chains rattled against the frame, a sharp contrast to his ragged, heavy breathing.
"You're fucking pushing your luck," he growled, his crimson eyes burning with a dangerous mix of fury and unadulterated heat. His face was flushed dark, his jaw clenched so tight the muscles ticked. "Undo this shit right now, or I swear to god I'm gonna wreck you the second I get loose."
You didn't answer. Instead, you knelt at the foot of the bed, slowly crawling up the mattress until you were hovering just out of his reach. Down below his waistband, his thick, massive erection was already straining violently against the fabric of his dark sweatpants, a heavy wet patch soaking through the front from how turned on he was by the sheer helplessness of the situation.
You didn't reach for his zipper. Instead, you reached over to the nightstand and picked up the heavy, realistic silicone dildo, letting him watch as you coated the slick length in lubricant.
Katsuki’s breath hitched instantly. His eyes went completely wide, the pupils blowing out so dark they almost swallowed the crimson. He stopped fighting the cuffs entirely, his body locking up as he realized exactly what you were planning to do.
"The fuck is that?" he rasped, his voice dropping into a ruined, gravelly octave. His hips gave a desperate, involuntary jerk against the mattress. "No. No way. You are not using that trash when I'm right fucking here. Drop it and get on my lap."
Ignoring his commanding tone, you positioned the toy securely onto the mattress right in his direct line of sight. You slowly slid your underwear down your legs, tossing them onto the floor, exposing your dripping wet center to him.
You straddled the toy, hovering right over the thick head. Keeping your eyes locked entirely onto his, you slowly, deliberately lowered your hips, letting the silicone stretch you wide as you took the entire length inside you in one deep, unhurried stroke.
A high, breathless gasp left your lips, and the sound completely broke him.
"Fuck!" Katsuki roared, throwing his entire weight forward. The headboard groaned under his strength as he violently thrashed against the restraints, desperate to grab your waist, to pull you off the toy, to drive himself inside you instead. "Look at you... you're so fucking tight around it. You're taking it all while looking right at me?!"
You began to ride it, your hips moving in a slow, torturous rhythm. Every time you sank all the way down, you let out a soft whine, your chest heaving as your slick heat coated the toy.
Katsuki was losing his absolute mind. He couldn't look away. His chest was rising and falling in frantic, shallow gasps, his vision entirely consumed by the sight of your flushed skin, your bouncing chest, and the way your wet center clung to the silicone. He was throbbing so hard it was physically painful, his own dripping pre-cum soaking entirely through his sweatpants.
"You're doing this on purpose," he choked out, his head slamming back against the pillow as a heavy shudder ran through his entire frame. "You're fucking torturing me. Keep riding it. Move faster. Let me watch you cream all over it, you beautiful, sadistic bastard."
What is wrong with being obsessed with an ass, right?
Bakugo physically cannot sleep unless he is completely glued to your backside. Even when he’s dead tired, he’ll violently yank you back-first against his bare chest, his large hands clamping onto your waist to pull your ass flush against his lap. His thick, heavy length is always semi-hard and nestled perfectly between your cheeks, throbbing lazily against you all night.
ugh!!! if you try to shift away because his body heat is boiling you, he completely loses it. Even half-asleep, his grip will tighten like an iron vise, and he'll let out a low, warning growl as he shoves his face directly into the valley of your ass. He literally buries his nose and mouth right against your bare skin, inhaling your scent from right there just to quiet his brain down enough to sleep.
Waking up is the most feral part because his morning wood is absolutely brutal. You’ll wake up to him already rock-hard and slick, deliberately grinding his heavy weight right against your dripping heat from behind. Before you can even open your eyes, his hand will shove your face into the pillow, his voice a ruined, sleepy rasp against your neck: "Don't fucking move—you're taking it right now," before he drives himself completely home.
First is the thoughtless: often pressed for time, a quick thing to relieve some stress and release some energy. Efficient as ever, almost clinical in the way he rubs one out, takes a shower, and heads straight to bed for work in the morning. He doesn't even bother making an ordeal of it when he does have time, until...
Well, until he has a new muse.
Once you're in the picture, it's a different story, and that's where the second type comes in: the kind where he thinks.
He imagines an impish grin as he sidles his waistband down.
Eyes creased with teasing while his fingers wrap around his length.
A pretty mouth, a prettier voice, and his own lips part with a hot breath that comes out heavy.
Keigo thinks of you when his hand eases up and down in strokes that start slow and get faster.
He thinks of you when his hips roll into the heat of his fist almost warm enough to really be you he's fucking.
And he thinks of you when he spills thick over the rim of those digits, groan dragged low from his throat.
Thinking is something Keigo does more of these days.
Synopsis: Hawks had been one of the most celebrated heroes - until he turned against the Commission and everything he previously stood for. You, a hero sworn to bring him in, quickly discover the roles have reversed: now, he has you, claiming you as his own
Warnings: hair pulling, breeding, creampie, doggy, unprotected p in v, villain!Hawks, dirty talk
Pairing: villain!Hawks x fem!Reader
A/N: welcome to the very first day of Villaintober! I hope you enjoy this little fic - every like & reblog is truly appreciated ♡
⇢ MY HERO ACADEMIA - 3
Shame courses through every nerve of your body. It shouldn’t be like this.
You were the one assigned to capture the villain, to bring him to face justice for his crimes.
How did it come to this, ending with him pinning you to your own bed, cock buried deep inside your quivering pussy from behind? You can’t pinpoint the exact moment it all went wrong. The mission spiraled out of control, and a hard blow to your head stole your consciousness for long enough for him to seize control.
Now, the air is heavy with the musk of sweat when he slams you further into the mattress.
Red feathers litter the floor, a few twitching faintly.
Your bedroom is dim, shadows pooling across the walls, the faint city lights leaking through the blinds, but all you can see are the mattress of your bed and his body - broad shoulders looming above, golden eyes sharp and burning with pure lust, red wings fluttering behind him.
Hawks. Once a hero, now a villain.
He had once been one of the most celebrated heroes, the Commission’s golden boy, until the day he turned his back on them, and on everything he had once stood for. Now there’s nothing left of that man but a shadow draped in crimson wings.
Your back arches off the mattress when his cock shoves so deep it feels like your lungs can’t expand, the rhythm brutal and unrelenting.
And his cock is buried so deep inside you that your cunt is molded around the sheer thickness of him, your body clenching desperately with every brutal thrust that rocks the headboard against the wall.
A ragged gasp bursts free from the pit of your chest.
Hawks only growls low, his fingers tangling in your hair before yanking your head back hard, forcing your spine into a taut arch.
“Don’t swallow it down, baby bird,” Keigo rasps, voice rough, the remnants of his lazy charm nowhere to be found. “You wanted to play hero against me, didn’t you? Hahaha! Let everyone hear how I ruin you.”
His hips snap forward, cock hitting so deep that you feel it low in your belly, a white-hot ache blooming where the tip grinds your cervix. The stretch is maddening, a mix of pain and molten heat that leaves your thighs trembling beneath you, threatening to buckle with every second that drags by.
Hawks doesn’t give you time to adjust, doesn’t let you take a proper breath - he just pounds his rock-hard cock harder, faster, one wing half-spread to steady himself against the wall as his hand digs into the plushy flesh of your ass. “Fuuuuuck,” the villain exhales through gritted teeth, tugging your hair harder until your scalp prickles. He bends low, lips brushing your ear, the predator in him bleeding through every syllable as he speaks in that taunting voice of his, “Your pussy is gripping my cock like you were made for this. Your little hero cunt is begging to be bred by the villain you swore to take down.”
A broken whimper slips out, your breath shattering as nails claw desperately into the silky sheets of your bed. It’s wrong - oh so wrong - yet the betrayal of your body comes swift: slick spilling down your trembling thighs, your inner, velvety walls tightening around his hardness with every brutal snap of his hips.
He chuckles, “So wet for me. Don’t pretend you don’t like it, songbird! You’ve been waiting for this. You’ve been waiting for me.”
The words cut deeper than his thrusts, your chest burning as shame collides with raw arousal.
His hand slides from your hair to your throat, squeezing just enough to make your next moan catch. “Look at you,” Hawks snarls, watching the way your lips part, the way your eyes glaze. “All those nights patrolling, acting like the perfect little savior. And now? Just a whore taking a villain cock in her bed.”
He slams into you harder, his pelvis grinding down as if he’s intent on forcing his cum into the deepest part of you.
Each thrust drags a ragged cry from your lungs, your body trembling under the weight of the villain.
“Keigo!” The name slips out unbidden, an echo of the man he used to be, but he cuts you off with a sharp jerk of your hair.
“Don’t,” Takami snaps, eyes glinting like steel. “That name’s dead. All that’s left is the man who’s gonna breed you until you forget what side you were fighting for.”
He punctuates the words with another savage thrust, and in a second, your pussy is spasming around him. His hand on your throat tightens, then releases, just enough to let you gasp a breath before he steals it with a kiss that’s more teeth than lips, biting down on your lower lip until you taste copper.
The sound he makes when he pulls back is feral, guttural. “God, I’ll ruin you. Stretch this sweet pussy until you can’t take anyone else. Fill you up so full of my cum you’ll still be leaking tomorrow.”
Suddenly, your phone buzzes on the sheets beside your head, the glow of the screen cutting through the dark. Endeavor. The name flashes again and again.
Keigo snarls low behind you, wings flaring, hips slamming forward so hard your body jolts against the mattress. “Tch. Used to think that old man was cool,” he utters, voice sharp with venom, “But now? I think he’s just fucking lame.”
Hawks’ cock grinds deep into your walls, forcing you to moan like a whore. His one hand fists in your hair, jerking your head back as he reaches forward with the other, snatching up your phone without missing a single brutal thrust. Your ass slaps against his pelvis with every drive of his cock.
The line clicks, and Endeavor’s voice is booming through, “Do you have any new information, Y/N? Where the hell are you though?”
Keigo barks out a laugh, pressing the phone to his mouth as his hips grind forward, the fat head of his cock stretching you until your scream muffles into the pillow. He tilts the phone just enough so you can hear every word as his hips snap forward, his heavy balls slapping against the curve of your ass. His voice is a rasping growl, dripping with pure mockery, “Stop callin’ her, old man. She’s busy gettin’ fucked tonight.”
The call ends with a sharp beep as your scream rips into the pillow, Hawks’ laugh vibrating against your back as he throws your phone back on your bed.
Your back arch against him despite yourself, body seeking the friction, the pressure, the overwhelming heat. The shame burns as hot as the pleasure, tangled together until you can’t tell where one ends and the other begins.
He notices. Of course he does. His smirk twists, cruel and triumphant. “Knew it. Knew you’d break the second I had you like this. Hero or not, you’re just another cunt begging to be filled.”
He shifts, pulling your hips up higher so your ass tilts and his cock hits an angle that makes stars explode behind your eyes.
You cry out, nails clawing at the sheets. Your mouth forms an O shape.
“Right there, huh?” Hawks grunts, thrusts turning sharp, deliberate, hammering that spot over and over until you’re sobbing into the pillow. “Yeah. I can feel it. Pussy’s milking me like it’s desperate to keep and cherish every drop I’ll give you.”
His words drip into your ears like poison, searing themselves deep into the darkest part of your mind.
The rhythm turns brutal, his pace relentless, hips slapping against yours with wet, obscene sounds.
With every brutal thrust his wings shudder, some of his red feathers loosening and falling, drifting down to scatter across the sheets and your trembling body.
His hand fists in your hair again, yanking your head back until your mouth falls open on a broken cry. “Say it,” Hawks demands, voice dark, “Say who owns this cunt.”
You shake your head weakly, shame scorching your skin, but the next thrust rips a scream from you, and he doesn’t seem to let up.
“Say it.”
Your voice cracks, wrecked and desperate. “You! Hawks!”
“That’s right.” His grin is sharp, feral, golden eyes locked on your flushed, tear-streaked face. “Mine. All mine. And I’m gonna keep you filled until you forget you ever fought me.”
You’ve already come several times tonight, back arching, legs spread painfully, every inch of your body bent to his pleasure, and still Hawks is preparing you for yet another orgasm.
He drives into you with faster, cock burying so deep you swear you feel him in your stomach. The pressure builds unbearably, that coiled heat in your gut snapping as your orgasm crashes through you, body convulsing around him, clenching so tight you drag a savage groan from his throat.
“Fuck, yeah, yeah, yeah, I’ll breed you good, dove!” Hawks chirps loudly, wings flaring wide as his hips slam forward, his cock twitching hard deep inside you. Second later, the warmth of his release floods your cunt, thick and heavy, spilling into you with every jerking thrust as he rides his orgasm out. He holds you pinned to the mattress, forcing you to take every drop of his seed until you’re stuffed full, whimpering as the mixed cum leaks down your thighs, spilling out of your abused pussy, even though you’re still full of his cock.
Your vision blurs at the edges, consciousness slipping, but through the haze of exhaustion and overstimulation, that sound - his birdlike chirp - lingers in the back of your mind. The last shred of awareness latches onto it, finding it painfully, devastatingly cute that Hawks - once a hero, now a villain - lets out a helpless chirp as he orgasms.
“Perfect,” Takami claims, voice low. “Took it all. Gonna keep it in there, aren’t you? Gonna carry my cum like the good little bitch you are.”
Tears soak into the pillow as your body quivers beneath him.
Hawks leans close, lips grazing the shell of your ear, his voice a silken blade as he slowly pulls out of your pussy. “This is what happens when a hero lets her guard down,” he says, dark amusement curling through every word he speaks. “You’re mine. Rest now, little dove. Your wings are clipped by me. You’ll never fly free again.”
he finishes so hard that at first all he can do is cling to you and rub his leaky cock along your slit, smearing his cum over your already soaked folds as he’s groaning against your neck.
but with his endless stamina, it’s barely five minutes before you feel him get hard again, his mushroom tip bumping against your inner thigh. your pussy is sticky with slick and spit and cum, and it takes him no effort at all to slide back into you and moan when your walls flutter weakly around him. you’re overstimulated and dazed and you can only lie there as his hips stutter.
you’re so messy and wet down there that at first his dick slips right out of you, the fat head nudging your clit and smearing your inner thighs with pre. he has to wrap his fist around the thick base and guide his cock back into you, keeping a firm hold on your thigh with his free hand to keep you spread open for him.
globs of cum keep dripping from your spasming hole, but keigo uses his fingers and his cock to keep you nice and stuffed with his spend, and the squelch that sounds each time he bottoms out inside of you is obscenely loud.
“gotta make sure it doesn’t come out, sweetheart, gotta fill you up with my kids—get you knocked up so your belly gets all swollen and round, yeah?”
Itachi Uchiha helping you find pleasure from penetration.
Proofread: I tried my best! | Word count: ~8k | Warnings: MDNI! Smut, lifelong friends to lovers, pwp, fem!reader has no idea how to feel pleasure from penetration, slow burn pace, "poetic" dirty talk, a bit of praise kink, overstimulation, squirting (1st time), cunnilingus, fingering, mutual masturbation, deep (protected) penetration, and aftercare. Itachi is in his mid-20s, so not fully canon-compliant. Readers are free to scroll past if this specific character interpretation does not align with their comfort levels.
Tag list: @ichxraaa <3
A/n: shout out to Amy Daws and her book "Blindsided" that I read in 2024 and inspired this. You're the man, Amy! I truly hope you guys like it. After I was done and went back to review the writing, I felt like I wasn't sure if I liked it or not. Enjoy! 🖤
"Ah, baby, that was nice," your boyfriend exhaled, his chest heaving as he rolled off you and stared blindly up at the ceiling. His arm now resting behind his head. You stared at the exact same ceiling, feeling entirely numb.
Sex with him was always a scripted and very hollow routine. He would crawl over you with barely a scrap of foreplay, thrust his hips a handful of times, and declare himself satisfied. Just like this.
No passion.
No consuming warmth.
No lingering intimacy.
And you craved more. You wanted more. You wanted to feel like you were wanted in this relationship instead of feeling like just a toy. On your best days, if you completely detached your mind and truly concentrated, you could sometimes coax a tremor out of your own body from the clumsy, rushed way his fingers grazed your sensitive cluster of nerves. But it was never enough. You didn’t feel whole, you didn’t feel satisfied.
You lie there, the cool night air settling into the empty space between your bodies on the mattress. Your relationship had been perfectly normal so far, but entirely devoid of high thrills. He wasn't malicious; he was just the absolute pinnacle of the bare minimum. He remembered to text you back eventually. He brought you takeout, but usually only because he was already hungry and passing the food stall anyway, or had eaten on his way home and brought you the leftovers.
He would sit beside you and nod while you spoke, but his eyes were always glued to whatever scroll or game was in his hands. It was the kind of mundane, low-effort companionship that made you question if you were simply expecting too much from romance. You knew that sex wasn’t everything in a relationship, of course not. But how could you be happy if your needs were not being tended to in all areas when you had always gone above and beyond for him?
You pulled the rumpled sheet up to your chest and sat up, your gaze dropping to your hands resting in your lap. You gathered whatever courage you had left to finally bridge the gap.
"Hey, I wanted to talk to you about something. I actually went to a medical-nin the other day." He shifted, propping himself up on one elbow, his brow furrowing. "Are you sick?"
"No, no, I'm healthy," you reassured quickly, chewing on the inside of your cheek. "It’s just... I haven't been able to... finish. From penetration. And I thought maybe something was physically wrong with me, but the medic said everything is completely fine. So, I was thinking... maybe we could try something different? Switch things up a bit?"
The air in the room instantly soured. The easygoing, post-coital haze vanished from his face, entirely replaced by a defensive line. "Try something different?" he echoed in a completely flat tone. "Are you saying there's something wrong with how I do it?" "What? No, that's not what I said at all," you backpedaled, you could feel your chest tightening. You wanted to avoid confrontation; this was never your end goal here.
"I'm just saying my body needs something else to get there." He let out a humorless scoff, throwing the sheets off his legs and standing up. He reached for his clothes scattered across the floor. "Right. So I'm the problem. I've never had a girl complain before, so if it's not working for you, I don't know what to tell you."
"Are you seriously getting mad right now?" you asked, stunned, watching him strap his weapons pouch to his thigh. You were fortunate enough to be able to get him to spare some time for you after he came back from his latest mission, which, now, looking at him dressing up, you wondered how he even made it out of the academy with passing grades.
Konoha must be REALLY in need of shinobi!
"I'm not mad. You’re being overly emotional with this shit! I'm just not going to sit here and be told I'm bad in bed just because your body can't figure it out," he muttered, grabbing his green vest. He didn't even look at you as he walked toward the door. "If sex is going to be this complicated, maybe we shouldn't force it. Let's just call it quits. See ya."
See ya?
See. Ya.
What the hell just happened?
Did he…?
Did he just….?
The click of the door closing echoed in the agonizingly suffocating room. It wasn't the breakup that hurt; it was the sheer audacity.
Five months of dating had ended in a five-minute conversation simply because you dared to ask for more. You were left sitting alone in the dark, half-broken and half-stunned, a sickening realization settling in your gut.
He had never added anything to your life. He had only ever been using you for your body so far.
The sounds of Konoha usually offered a comforting white noise, but today they just felt like an annoying reminder that the world was moving on while you were stuck in a humiliating standstill—like your body didn’t even belong to your own desires anymore.
It had been three days since your ex walked out.
Three days.
Three stupid days.
Three days of replaying that pathetic, five-minute conversation until your pride was completely raw, like you needed to kneel on the dirt to scrape it back.
You hadn't realized your feet had carried you toward the quieter shaded outskirts of the Uchiha compound until the scent of brewing tea grounded your wandering mind. Surely enough, Mikoto was brewing one of your favorites, and it brought a feeling of comfort to you. You’ve always felt cozy when stepping into the Uchiha side of the village.
"You are walking with the posture of someone carrying a very heavy burden." You winced, snapping your head up to look at the owner of that voice. Itachi stood near the edge of his family's engawa. He wasn't wearing his standard flak jacket, just a simple blue yukata that made him look incredibly domestic, probably on one of his almost non-existent days off. His dark eyes analyzed the exhausted shadows under your eyes and the unyielding tension completely locking up your shoulders.
“Oh, hi, Itachi. Just... lost in thought, I guess.” You tried to force a polite smile. It completely failed. “Is your mom at home? I really need to talk to her, if she’s available.”
"I’m afraid not. She left just a few minutes ago and should return before nightfall.” “I see… well, alright then.” And you simply stood there, thinking about your next steps.
Who could be the other person to help you navigate this terrible moment of insecurity and uncertainty that surrounded you completely? You needed a new lifeline.
Itachi didn't push. He simply scooted to the side, gesturing toward the polished wooden deck. “But her tea is freshly brewed. Come. Sit with me."
You shouldn't have.
You knew you shouldn’t, because your mind was simply not there at all. But at this point, you might as well just burn your bridges to your childhood friend.
All of them.
You were a chaotic mess. But the quiet safety radiating from him was a gravity you couldn't resist. You slipped off your sandals and sank onto the wood by his side, letting the tranquil rustle of the wind through the willow trees soothe your edgy nerves.
He poured the tea with meticulous care. The ceramic clinked softly against the saucer. He didn't demand answers, allowing the ambient sounds of the koi pond in front of you to do the heavy lifting. He gave your mind the exact space it needed to unravel. And unravel it did.
You hadn't planned on telling him. Why would you? Your friendship with Itachi was a completely normal one, and you had never shared any deep secrets like this. But staring into the swirling green liquid in your cup, the humiliating truth started to spill right out of your lungs.
You told him about your clinic visit, the vulnerability of asking for a change, and the immediate shattering of an ego and the pathetic, indifferent dismissal that followed. Itachi listened attentively. He didn't interrupt or offer empty platitudes. And he didn’t seem surprised at all. Or at least that’s what you thought, because you couldn’t really read his expressions. Ever. At all.
"Sometimes these things happen," he murmured finally. His gaze remained fixed on the water of the koi pond, his profile perfectly sculpted and entirely unreadable. "Everyone's body is different, and everyone's body reacts differently."
You expected him to leave it at that, not say anything else or offer any sort of comfort. Itachi’s personality was far from that, and you knew it. You knew better than to sulk in front of him. The last time you did, you were kids, and he literally poked - gently - your forehead before smiling and leaving.
He shifted his weight, preparing to stand, but his eyes suddenly cut back to yours as you turned to face him. The intensity in his stare practically pinned you to the floorboards, leaving you unable to move, to follow his movements, to stand up and leave.
"Or maybe," the words slipped out with seriousness. "He simply did not know how to take care of you properly. How to satisfy your body's needs."
He simply did not know how to take care of you properly.
You stared at him, completely in awe, with a glow of heat rushing straight to your cheeks. But Itachi merely adjusted the collar of his yukata, his expression smoothing back into its stoic mask, as if he hadn't just dropped a bomb on your lap.
"I promised to train with Sasuke," he excused himself, brushing past you with the fluid elegance of a ghost only he carried with such grace. “You’re welcome to stay and take all the time you need here. Drink the tea before it gets cold." And just like that, he vanished into the trees, leaving you entirely alone with a realization that set your blood absolutely on fire.
What you didn't see was how he stopped the absolute second he was out of your sight. You didn't hear the exhale that escaped his lungs, or see the way he closed his eyes, fighting to maintain his self-control. He had just intentionally crossed a line he had spent a lifetime protecting, practically begging you to look at him as a man with desires instead of just a safe, untouchable friend.
He had planted the seed. Now, all he could do was wait to see if it would grow.
His words had haunted you ever since you left his family’s house. They echoed in the quiet of your room for who knows how many agonizing days, rewriting everything you thought you knew about your own body, until the sheer weight of your intrusive thoughts finally drove you out of the house.
You had known Itachi Uchiha for almost your entire life. Growing up in the same village, with parents who had known each other for what seemed like ages, your friendship had always been a steady constant. Not awkward nor strained. You had shared countless conversations, sitting in the clearings or walking the market streets when your paths crossed. Itachi was the perfect example of a low-maintenance friendship, and you were completely fine with that.
You knew his habits.
You knew his quiet quirks.
And now you even stood outside the bakery around the corner from his clan’s compound for ten solid minutes, totally paralyzed. You debated whether to buy a skewer of tricolor dango or a sweet red bean bun before coming to see him, hoping his favorite sugar rush might somehow soften the inappropriate conversation burning in your throat.
But you walked away empty-handed because no amount of dango could change the fundamental truth about him, about how he was notoriously vague, how he was a closed-off, untouchable golden child who kept his private life locked behind an impenetrable fortress, which was exactly why you were currently making a complete fool of yourself.
What am I even THINKING?
You were on your fifth frantic lap around the perimeter of his estate, entirely unable to force your feet to step onto the actual property. You were beating around the bush, completely terrified of ruining a lifelong friendship, regardless of how close you two were. Your treacherous mind simply wouldn't let go of his voice, of his damn words.
Well, it’s not like I don’t have other friends, right? If he ditches our friendship, I’ll be just fine. Yes, I WILL be fine!
What if Mikoto finds out? She might think I’m one of those women and ban me from ever seeing them again.
Shit, shit, SHIT!
You were so lost in your own panic that you didn't even hear his footsteps approach. The only warning you received was the weight of his long fingers wrapping around your wrist. You froze as his thumb rested perfectly over your racing pulse point, feeling the frenzied rhythm of your heart.
"How many more times do you plan on walking the radious of my home?" Itachi's voice was a soothing buzz that vibrated straight down your spine.
Had his voice always sounded so good before?
When did admiration turn into desire?
Control yourself, seriously!
He didn't sound angry or impatient, or even slightly annoyed. He was just observant, his gaze, always intense, pinning you exactly where you stood. "Are you looking for something? My mom should be home toda—"
"No, I'm not...not looking for your mother," you blurted out, the words tumbling past your lips before your common sense could stop them. "Actually...I-I was wondering if we could talk? Over some tea?" He didn't hesitate, though he seemed surprised, offering a formal nod as he guided you inside the house.
The low table felt like an executioner's block as a bead of sweat threatened to drop from your temple. You sat rigidly on the cushion, watching him serve the tea with the same fluid elegance he applied to everything. Or, at least, you hoped that it was to everything.
"I was thinking about what you said the other day," you started, your voice sounding entirely too small for the stifling silence of the room. "About...body needs." He took a slow sip of his tea, nodding once. “May I ask you a personal question, Itachi?”
He nodded again, his eyebrow curving just a bit. You forced the words out in a single breath, asking him if he had ever made a woman feel good under him. The ceramic rim stalled a millimeter from his lips.
Why is the clock on the wall sounding so loud all of a sudden?
"I'm so sorry, Itachi, I shouldn't have—"
"I suppose I cannot discuss any private matters I have had with past lovers," he interrupted softly, resting his teacup back onto the table. His dark eyes held your panicked stare, but not enough to fully ground you in the moment. "But I have never received a complaint. Let us put it like that."
"I see," you whispered, feeling the heat in your cheeks burning absolutely out of control. The silence stretched thickly between you again. But Itachi was not dumb, and you’d be even dumber to think he could not see deep into your soul, with or without his Sharingan.
"I believe it is time for you to truly say what you have been wanting to say since you were pacing nervously outside.” You were the one who nearly choked on your tea this time. You set the cup down with an ungraceful clatter, staring at the wooden table as if it were the most interesting thing in the room to avoid his gaze.
"Itachi... how long have we known each other?"
"Almost our whole lives, I would say."
You swallowed the thick lump that formed in your throat for the second time, your pride completely abandoning you as you asked him the ultimate question. “Do you think you, maybe you…Perhaps we can…But only if—” You closed your eyes and took it as your turn to drop the bomb right back at him. “Do you think you could help me practice more and discover my body’s needs? Just once. To try different positions so I can finally find a release.”
Itachi went entirely, utterly, completely still. The only betrayal of his composure was the microscopic tremor of his pinky finger resting against his cup.
Had you just managed to break down his composure with your words?
His silence became a physical weight, the anxiety violently clawing at your throat. "I'm sorry," you gasped, scrambling to your feet and almost falling down when standing up. You grabbed whatever was left of your dignity while bowing your head in absolute shame. "This is terribly inappropriate. Please forgive me. I shouldn’t have come. I’ll get going now.”
You didn't give him a single second to respond before you practically ran from the room. You fled back into the safety of your house, knowing well enough that this conversation would randomly keep you awake at 3 AM forever.
But you weren't the only one about to lose your sleep.
Back in the quiet of his house, Itachi remained entirely frozen where you had left him. He stared at the empty cushion you left behind, his Sharingan bleeding into his eyes in the room purely on instinct as his blood roared violently in his ears. You had just handed him the exact weapon he needed to claim you after so many years, and the restraint it took not to follow you home right then and there nearly ate him alive.
You avoided him like the plague for an entire week. And you planned to keep it that way for as long as necessary.
Your daily routine became a masterclass in evasion. At this point, you could easily become a covert shinobi, and you had never even set foot inside the academy.
You walked strictly to and from work, kept your head down, avoiding the usual streets that would make you and Itachi cross paths on the street. You avoided the clearings you knew he favored, and even had to deny Mikoto’s invitation to dinner when she saw you at your workplace. You practically sprinted through the market whenever you needed groceries.
Most importantly, you completely abandoned the bakery on that corner. The mere thought of accidentally bumping into him while he bought his favorite sweets was enough to send your heart into a nauseating spiral.
If I never see him again, I will literally never have to explain myself.
It was a flawless, if cowardly, plan.
Right up until it wasn't.
You didn't know that your absence was driving him absolutely feral. You thought you were being slick by dodging him in the market, but Itachi was not stupid. He had known you his entire life. He knew your routines, the corners you favored, the alleys you used to cut through the village, and the exact minute your shift ended, even if you had overtime.
He let you play your little game of hide-and-seek, giving you exactly one week to panic and process the tension snapping between you two. Because at the end of the day, you could avoid his paths all you wanted, but he knew exactly where to find you when the time came.
You had just returned home from an exhausting shift, kicking off your sandals with a heavy sigh of relief. The only good part of your day was the beautiful sunset hue that seemed to embrace you while you walked back to the comfort of your place. The absolute second the door clicked shut behind you, a melodic knock echoed through the wood. You froze, very aware that you were not expecting any visitors or deliveries.
Another knock.
Patient.
Unyielding.
Your hands felt entirely too cold, slick with a sudden sweat, as if your body intrinsically knew exactly who was behind that door.
Maybe, just maybe, if I stay perfectly still, the person will go away, right?
Wrong.
Another knock.
Gathering what little courage you still had, somehow, you pulled the door open, completely (un)prepared for the sight waiting on your porch. Itachi stood cloaked in the evening shadows as the sunset gave away the space to the dark night sky. In his right hand, he held a small, dark silk pouch, his long fingers wrapped loosely around the drawstrings. "Hello."Your lungs instantly forgot how to function.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Not him!
"I-Itachi, h-hi," you stammered, your knuckles turning white as you gripped the doorframe for dear life. "Uhm, can I help you?"
"You ran quite fast last week," he stated, stepping over your threshold without really waiting for an invitation, effectively trapping you in the entryway. "You did not give me the chance to deepen our conversation. I felt like I had no say in it." You swallowed hard as his intoxicating scent completely invaded your personal space, your home.
"I thought about your offer for the entire week," he continued with his voice dropping into a hypnotic cadence. "I am deeply honored that you trust me with such a delicate vulnerability. Though I kept thinking if our bond would deepen after such an offer, or break entirely.”
He stopped mere inches from you, using the back of his heel to slowly push the door shut behind him. "But I need you to know," he added, completely serious. "Regardless of the outcome today, there is absolutely nothing wrong with you." You stared at the small silk pouch dangling from his fingers, your mind entirely blanking out.
Outcome of today? What is… Wait, what?
"Wait... what do you mean, the outcome of today?"
"You came to me asking for help," his gaze dropping briefly to your lips before locking back onto your eyes. "What kind of friend would I be to deny you your personal struggles? To abandon you in a predicament like this."
Your brain completely short-circuited. You stood frozen in your own entryway, acutely aware of the massive heat radiating from his large frame. "Right," you squeaked, your voice jumping a pathetic octave. "So... where do we... uhm, what do we..."
Itachi watched your agitated stammering with an unreadable expression, though amusement seemed to swim in his eyes. "For starters, we can relocate to your bedroom," his tone as smooth as glass with no signs of nervousness whatsoever. "If you are comfortable. If you still want this."
"Right. No, I want this," you babbled. "My room. Okay! Right."
He tilted his head just a bit, his gaze lazily drifting over your shoulder toward the small living room. "Unless you would prefer I take you right there on your couch." Your breath completely stopped.
"What?"
"What?" Itachi echoed. You opened your mouth to argue, but no sound came out. You spun on your heel instead, marching down the short hallway and past your living room toward your bedroom, purely to escape the weight of his stare. He followed silently behind you, his quiet footsteps a terrifying reminder of exactly what you had just invited into your house.
Danger.
The second you crossed the threshold of your bedroom, the reality of the situation crashed directly into your spine. This was your sanctuary, and Itachi Uchiha was standing right in the middle of it. You stood entirely too rigid at the edge of the mattress. Your hands were trembling so badly that you had to clasp them together on top of your thighs.
He didn't miss the movement. He didn't miss anything. "You are nervous,” he observed, setting the silky pouch onto your nightstand.
"Well," a borderline hysterical little laugh escaped your mouth. "I've never exactly had an appointment to have sex before." A low puff of genuine amusement escaped his chest. He crossed the small distance between you, his hands coming up to gently cup the sides of your flushed face. But as his dark eyes searched yours, the carefully constructed mask of 'the stoic best friend' finally slipped.
For a fraction of a second, you saw a raw devotion burning in his gaze, like a silent admission of exactly how hard it had been for him to stand by and watch you doubt yourself because of somebody else.
"I would call it a walk-in, if you will,” he purred, stepping closer to you. His thumbs brushed soothing circles against your cheekbones, melting the tension straight out of your muscles. “But it is just practice."
You hadn’t realized what Itachi was doing until now, but the moment his touch found your face, you knew his game was on. He was building the pace, slowly setting the tone and the vibe in ways that your body was not used to. Tonight, Itachi would give you what no one else could, and you really weren’t ready for it.
The bedroom felt too small with Itachi standing in it. Your hands were still clasped tightly on your thighs, your knuckles white, your eyes squeezed shut as if darkness could somehow rewind time and take back the foolish offer you had made.
"You are doing it again."
"Doing what?"
“You’re nervous, overthinking. Trying to force your body to feel something through willpower only.” His thumbs brushed your cheekbones again, slower this time. "Let go. You don't need to try so hard."
A shaky exhale left your lungs. It was exactly what you had always demanded from yourself ever since you had started dating your ex 5 months ago —just relax, just try harder, what's wrong with you?
But Itachi was offering some kind of peace of mind to you like a gift.
"I can't just turn it off, Itachi," you whispered. “After the breakup, that conversation made me feel like I was...broken."
"You are not broken," his tone left absolutely no room for argument. "You have simply never been taken care of properly. We’ve already covered this part, didn't we?”
His hands slid from your face, his long fingers finding the hem of your shirt. "May I?" You nodded, and Itachi leaned in. His mouth covered yours. It wasn't rushed or demanding like you had previously experienced; it was more of a ruinous yet soft claiming that completely silenced the racing of your mind.
You let out a tiny gasp, and he swallowed the sound, his tongue sliding effortlessly past your lips to taste you for the very first time that night.
The kiss was a physical tether, melting the rigid tension straight out of your muscles as he guided your back down against the sheets. You went willingly, melting into the bed as the heavy dip of his weight followed you down. He didn't break the kiss as his hands gripped the hem of your shirt, only removing his mouth from yours when pulling the fabric up and over your head before tossing it to the floor.
His bare palms settled warmly against your waist. The contrast of his touch sent a delicious shiver straight down your spine as he positioned himself completely into the V of your thighs. That immediately made your cunt pulse.
He caged you in with his arms, hovering just inches above your chest like a heavy blanket of night-blooming florals and adamant focus. Your upper body was completely exposed, only the delicate fabric of your bra holding your breasts as they practically begged to be set free, to finally feel his touch.
Itachi slowly pulled back from the kiss, his lips slick and his breathing slightly heavier. "Look at me," he rasped, his hot breath grazing your collarbone. The deep sound of his voice now becoming a sweet melody in your ears.
You forced your eyes up to meet his, drowning in the pure intensity of his gaze as it mapped every inch of your exposed skin. He wasn't looking at you like an object, or an obligation, or a chore to be rushed through, but like you were a prayer he had no right to whisper, but every intention of answering.
His gaze dragged over the swell of your breasts barely contained by the thin fabric, the rapid flutter of your pulse at the base of your throat betraying your panic. You felt entirely too seen, stripped bare in a way that had nothing to do with the clothes you were shedding.
Was this really a good idea?
His palms traced a worshipping path up your ribcage, his calloused thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts through the lace. A cracked sound escaped your throat before you could trap it. Your eyes squeezed shut on instinct—that desperate need to force your body to warm up and feel something, like you had to do all the work, to concentrate, to wring out the pleasure you had been told you were incapable of feeling.
“My eyes are right here, sweetheart,” Itachi whispered close to your mouth. “I am the one holding you tonight. And I intend to treat you exactly how you were always meant to be treated.” You opened your eyes, promising yourself you’d not close them anymore unless you were feeling too much pleasure; that was the only exception.
His right hand moved to the clasp of your bra, the fabric gave way, and he slid the straps down your shoulders, tossing the lace aside to join your shirt on the floor. The cool air of the room kissed your skin, but Itachi was right there to warm it, his palms settling heavily over your breasts. He didn't maul or grab; he weighed them in his hands, his thumbs teasing lazily over your tight and hardened peaks, coaxing a ragged moan from your throat.
“Does it feel good?” He asked, and you nodded. “What about now?” His mouth dropped to one of your breasts and closed on it.
The shock of his wet heat against the sensitive peak was a lightning strike that arched your back off the mattress, a broken cry tearing from your lips before you could stifle it. He didn't rush; his tongue swirled in slow circles that seemed to pull the tension right from your marrow and replace it with a liquid heat that pooled heavy and demanding between your thighs.
Your fingers found their way into his hair, the dark silken strands sliding against your skin, anchoring you to that moment as he alternated between gentle, teasing flicks and the firm, suctioning pressure that made your toes curl. It was unlike anything you had ever felt— not the mechanical fumbling you were used to.
It was focused.
"So responsive," he cooed against your skin, the vibration of his words humming straight into your blood. "I have barely touched you, and I have a feeling that you are already soaking wet." His mouth strayed to your other breast, sucking and slowly nibbling your nipple.
Your hips rocking up and down, trying to glue onto his. The embarrassment should have burned you, but his voice was dripping with such genuine reverence that it only fanned the flames.
His mouth began a descent, pressing open-mouthed kisses down the center of your ribs, over the soft plane of your stomach, dipping teasingly into your navel. Every inch of skin he claimed felt worshipped, marked by a concentration that terrified you as much as it thrilled you.
When his fingers hooked into the waistband of your pants, you instinctively tensed, whispering that this was the moment the disappointment would set in.
“You have nothing to prove here," he cooed again, sensing the spike in your heartbeat. He slid the fabric down your legs, taking your underwear with it in one fluid motion, leaving you bared to him completely. The heat of his gaze searing into your exposed cunt was absolute fire.
He settled himself between your thighs, his shoulders pushing your legs wider, wider, until you were completely splayed open for him, settling his broad shoulders between your thighs. He pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, then another higher up, his hot breath fanning over your dampening folds.
"Itachi—" you gasped, your hands flying back to his dark hair."It's okay," he whispered against your skin. "I got you," his eyes locking onto yours from his vantage point, looking like a dark angel ready to devour you whole. He lowered his head, and the first slow drag of his flat tongue against your folds obliterated every coherent thought in your mind.
You wrapped your legs around his heavy head and let his tongue swim toward salvation.
Your fingers tangling desperately in his hair as he began to work you with a patience that promised to ruin you. He consumed every part of his act. His tongue painted long stripes through your folds, gathering your slick before circling your clit with so much care that it made your vision blur. The movements of his muscle made you roll your eyes every time its warmth pooled over your cunt again.
His mouth blew a breeze of cool air on your clit, and that alone made you squeeze his head between your thighs.
"Oh, fuck. Itachi, do that again, please..." You cried out between a moan, you could feel his smile as he blew again, before sucking on your clit ferociously. But it was the slow intrusion of his finger that shattered you. He pressed it deep, crooking upward in a beckoning motion that hit a spot inside you that felt foreign—too sensitive, too raw.
You gasped, your hips jerking away instinctively, but his free arm spread out heavily across your pelvis, locking you in place against the mattress.
"No, stay with me," Itachi commanded, his voice muffled against your cunt and stripped of the gentleness he had when he first took you in his arms. He added a second finger, the stretch making your breath hitch, and began a relentless scissoring motion that opened you up, thrusting in tandem with the rhythm of his mouth.
You had never experienced anything so delicious like this, even after the countless sex nights you had with your ex. You didn't need to focus now on trying to feel the pleasure because it was consuming every inch of you.
The pressure built rapidly with a tightening coil in your lower belly that felt close to pain but infinitely better. This specific sensation, a deep, throbbing need to release something that felt dangerous, like holding back a tidal wave with a crumbling dam, was new.
"A-ah—'tachi," the nickname slipping out unbidden as your fingers tightened desperately in his hair, trying to pull him away. The sound of his name—his name, falling from your lips—sent a jolt straight to his core. He had spent years listening to you talk about so many things, your life, your work, your relationships, but the absolute high of hearing you sob for him made his jaw clench with a possessive need.
His free hand held your wrist, removing it from his hair. Only his eyes were visible, the rest of him hiding under your wet folds. "Unless you want me to fully stop, I suggest you don't try to take me away from this sweet cunt."
You whispered a "right," almost embarrassed, and he went back to work, sucking your clit into his mouth just as his fingers curled ruthlessly against that spongy patch inside you. His movements picking up a faster pace, like he knew you were only a few seconds away from coming undone for the first time in the night.
A quivering heat swelled in your belly, your muscles contracting tighter with every wet suck of his mouth, with every thrust of his fingers. You felt yourself clenching desperately around him, the wet sounds filling the quiet room.
"Itachi, wait, I feel like I'm going to—something is—"His tongue struck your sensitive clit, and the coil snapped. Your back bowed off the bed, a moan tearing from your throat as a gush of liquid heat surged from you, soaking his hand and chin. It was violent, overwhelming, a crashing wave that wiped out every memory of shame and replaced it with pure ecstasy. You pulsed around his fingers, your cunt fluttering wildly as the pleasure tore through you in spasms that left you boneless.
Itachi didn't pull away; he worked you through it, prolonging the aftershocks with gentle laps of his tongue, swallowing your every drop until you were a trembling gasping mess beneath him. When he finally lifted his head, his face was glistening with your essence, his eyes burning with a possessive pride that made your heart stutter. For the past few days, you thought you’d never meet a soul who could speak your body’s language, until there was Itachi.
Itachi, fluent in you.
You stared up at him, chest heaving, trying to piece together the shattered fragments of your mind. The wetness beneath you was undeniable, the evidence of your pleasure painting his skin. "I... I didn't know I could..." You swallowed with a wrecked and barely audible voice. "Can you... do that again?" you asked breathless, entirely stunned by your own body. A small laugh escaped his chest—the most beautiful and unguarded sound you had ever heard from him. "I can do it as many times as you need."
He immediately obliged, his mouth descending onto you again. He coaxed a second, softer climax from you with just his tongue, his hands holding your hips down so you couldn't squirm away from the overwhelming sensation. When he finally pulled away and stood, you pushed yourself up on trembling arms.
"My turn," you said reaching for him as you sat on the bed, knees so wide open your cunt almost touched the sheets. He let you unbuckle his pants, set his cock free as he removes his black shirt, let you wrap your fingers around his thick, heavy length. But as you moved to take him into your mouth, his hand caught your chin.
"You do not have to perform for me."
"I want to make you feel good too," you argued. He smiled and took your hand, the same one that was touching him, on his. "Come," He moved to sit on the bed with his back touching the headboard. With a simple gesture, he called you over. "Let me touch yourself while you do it. I want to know you are feeling good, too." He guided you onto your side so that when your head would go down to suck him, your ass would go up.
You wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, taking him deep into the wet heat of your mouth, and his hand slipped between your thighs. He cupped your soaked mound, his middle finger gliding lazily through your slick folds, alternating between gently circling your oversensitive clit and pushing a finger inside you.
squelch.
squelch.
squelch.
A muffled moan vibrated around his shaft. You stroked what you couldn't take of him with your hand, falling into a synchronized rhythm. The dual sensation of pleasing him while he played with your throbbing flesh left you completely electrified.
"Good," Itachi praised, his voice strained for the first time. His hips snapping forward to chase the slick heat of your mouth, a desperate curse falling from his lips. His hips twitched, pushing himself a bit deeper into your mouth. "Just like that, baby— fuck, you feel so good." You whimpered around him, sucking harder, your own hips grinding against his palm.
The wet sounds of your mouth on him and his fingers on you were not the only sounds echoed through the room. As you sucked Itachi's balls, he moaned your name loudly. It was messy, sensual, and unhinged, and yet, you felt safer in this vulnerable position than you ever had before. You were growing wetter every second next to him.
Itachi pulled away before he could finish, lifting your head so he could see you, your mouth full of his juices. You looked so hot right now that if the goal wasn't to help you out, he could easily claim you as his right there, making your cunt sore. He was breathing heavily, his posture cracked, his chest heaving while he craved more of your touch, but knew he needed to save all of this energy for what was about to happen.
He reached for the dark silk pouch on the nightstand, the one you were curious about when you saw him holding it, but forgot about. He opened it, pulling out a small gray foil packet.
A condom.
Of course, he came prepared.
He tore it open with his fingers and rolled the latex down his thick length with practiced ease. It made you think how many times he had done it before. "Let me make you feel good now," you crawled over to him, as he guided you to straddle his lap, your knees bracketing his hips. The broad pink head of his cock nudged your entrance, and you froze, your eyes wandering down to his chest. What if it didn't work? What if you still couldn't—
"Keep your eyes on mine." His hands settled on your hips, stilling your trembling. "I'm here for you, for your needs.” His hand brushed your jaw, his fingers grabbing your chin to make you focus on him. Your eyes found his gaze waiting for you, your arms around his shoulders, and your face came closer to his. He analyzed every single feature. Your eyes, your nose, your lips. Everything.
Taking a deep breath, you slowly sank down. The stretch was a fulfilling pressure as he glided into you inch by inch. You stopped when he was fully seated inside you, adjusting to the fullness. Slowly, you began to roll your hips, twerking on his cock. Itachi leaned forward, his mouth finding your collarbone as his thumb found your clit. He rubbed the swollen nub in tight circles, matching the grinding cadence of your hips.
"That's it. Such a good girl. See how well you are taking me?" The friction was different. Deeper. The angle pushed his length directly against that pleasant spot inside you, while his thumb sent electric shocks rocketing through your nervous system.
You rolled your hips faster, chasing the sensation. “I-Itachi—" you moaned, feeling every nerve on your body, every sensation, every inch being consumed by him. Itachi leaned his head back against the headboard, his jaw clenched, his breathing ragged, looking at you like you were both his salvation and his downfall.
You kept going, your second orgasm collapsing over you as his fingers played with your nerve bundle. But still, he knew this was not the one you were craving, not the feeling you were chasing after.
“C’mere,” he rasped, his hands tightening on your hips. He shifted, turning your bodies so now you were the one under him. His hands shoved your thighs up until they touched your belly, your kneecaps close to your nipples. He sank right back, leaning forward as his hands supported his body. This angle was even deeper.
"Slower this time,” he growled, his voice thick with pulsing need. "Feel where I am inside you. Feel how your body responds."
"You feel s'good inside of me right now."
"Good, I want to feel your cunt clenching around my cock until you can't take it anymore," he breathed, reaching one of his hands to cup one of your breasts. Itachi's dirty talk game was different, full of praise for you and you only. You could literally cum just by being overwhelmed by his words.
Instead, you gasped, pleading for more, and he let out a hissed curse through his teeth.He began to thrust into you.
Deep. Unrelenting.
"Ah—'tachi please, keep going," you mewled, your hips writhing to capture every inch of him. Because of the angle, his cock dragged continuously against your G-spot with every stroke. The pressure was building again, that same wave from before, but this time it was intensified by the feeling of him moving inside you.
"Itachi—" you whimpered, your nails digging into the forearm close to your waist. “too much— Oh, ’ts too deep.” Hearing you beg for him, moan his name, completely wrecked him. You weren't thinking about your ex, or your insecurities, or your brokenness. You were only thinking about him. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his hips thrusting with an incessant force, hopelessly addicted to the sweet sound of his name on your tongue.
"You can take it," he smiled, looking down right at you. "Let me make you whole, baby." He didn't stop, didn't slow down, his hips snapping up into yours with a wet, slapping sound that echoed obscenely in the room.
Sluck.
Sluck.
Sluck.
You were almost quivering around his cock buried deep into your spongy walls when he burst you out of your pleasure bubble. “On your stomach for me,” he said, stopping the thrusts and helping you sit down. You scrambled to comply, positioning yourself on the mattress. He moved behind you, his large hands smoothing over the curve of your spine, down to your hips. He grabbed your ass, pulling it up, while one hand sat on your back, gently forcing it to lower down, your face against the bed.
He pressed into you again, slowly this time, sinking to the hilt until his hips were aligned against your ass. He was so deep, so fucking impossibly deep, that the pressure against your front wall felt perfect. He started slowly but hard. Each thrust was a plunging punch of pleasure that rattled your bones. The intensity was too much, unlike anything you had ever felt during penetration.
The pleasure was building from the inside out, fusing with the throbbing ache in your clit, creating a feedback loop of sensation that threatened to shatter your mind. To make you fall apart in a matter of seconds.
"Faster," you begged, dropping your chest lower to the mattress, your fingers clawing at the sheets. "Please, Itachi, deeper, faster. I need to feel your cock pounding on me—"
A low snarl vibrated through his chest. He was helping you, but still, there was just so much he could do to hold himself back during a moment like this, while he's making you take every inch of his cock inside your sweet cunt.
He obliged instantly, his grip on your hips turning bruising as he picked up the pace. He slammed into you with primal urgency, his hips meeting your ass with a wet slap.
Plap.
Plap.
Plap.
"Look at you," he panted, his voice rough, his hands taking a fistful of your hair and pulling it back. "Taking me so beautifully. Feeling so good. Do not fight it."
"Nnnngh...Itachi, I can feel every inch of your cock."
"Am I making you feel good, baby?"
"So good, 'tachi. I feel like I'm ready to—" you couldn't even form a proper cohesive sentence at this rate. The storm inside you was winding tighter than ever before, a physical pressure that bordered on pain but felt like transcendence. Itachi's cock was buried in your cunt, hitting your g-spot, making you feel like this topped any other form of pleasure known to a man.
Every thrust knocked the breath out of your lungs, his heavy balls slapping against your clit with each stroke, sending jolts of pure pleasure up your spine.
"Yeah, sweet girl?" You let out a soft moan, agreeing. "I will leave such an imprint on you, deep on your body, that anyone you entertain after me will have to know me in order to understand you, to savor you."
His words were your undoing.
With a final deep thrust that pressed you flat into the mattress, the coil snapped again. You screamed his name, you cursed loudly, your vision blurring white as the most intense climax of your life ripped through you. It started deep inside your womb and radiated outward to the tips of your fingers and toes, forming a beautiful wave of unadulterated pleasure.
As your body kept trembling, calling out his name, Itachi groaned yours like a prayer, his hips stuttering as he buried himself to the hilt, filling the condom with his release. He pulsed inside you, his whole body shuddering with his own climax.
Itachi did not collapse on top of you like a lazy man would. Even as the final tremors of his release wracked his frame, completely undone, his control held perfectly. He stayed kneeling on the mattress right behind you, his large hands keeping an anchoring grip on your hips to steady you both. He simply held you there, letting you catch your breath against the sheets as you lay completely unraveled and utterly remade.
Only when your coarse breathing finally started to slow did he move. He withdrew from inside of you, the sudden loss of his heat drawing a low whine from your throat, your hips dropping fully to the mattress as you melted into the bed.
You heard and felt him leave the bed, making his way to your bathroom to ditch the condom full of his white, almost transparent seed. When he returned to you, he stretched his large frame out on the mattress right behind you. His strong arm closed in around your waist, cradling you gently backward until your spine was pressed against his chest.
He pulled the heavy duvet over your bare shoulders, tucking you in as his face buried into the crook of your neck. His right hand stroking your hair.
"Are you alright?" he asked eventually, his deep voice a whisper, music to your ears.
"Better than alright," you turned around to face him, your fingers leaving the comfort of the duvet to trace the chaos lines on his face. He closed his eyes, feeling your touch. "I think I'm fixed. Thank you, Itachi."
"You were never broken," he corrected, his mouth pressing a kiss to your palm. "You just needed someone who could handle and give you the pleasure you needed."
(omg my first divider <3)
⋆。‧˚ʚ ୨ৎ ɞ˚‧。⋆ Readers also liked: [KAKASHI] Thank you for loving me when I still taste of heartache and war | ✎ Masterlist | Have a request? Drop it here!
🎀 DO NOT repost, translate, modify, or feed my content to AI. All rights to the original writing and plots belong to me!
