a little as a joke, a little as a test to see if he will actually do it. he’s been asking to eat you out but in his usual way of staring you down and then demanding you to get on the bed. when you don’t move he nudges closer to you, kisses your neck, whines about that he wants to eat you now. it’s then you decide to test him. in your living room, a random show playing on the screen. you can see the lump in his shorts and you feel the same.
“get on your knees and beg for it.”
that has him pulling off you, a quirk of his brow to test if you’re playing or not. quickly, once you cross your arms across your chest, he realises you’re not.
“hah?” but it comes out like the last breeze on a windy day. breathless yet weighty.
“you heard me.” you reply, flicking your eyes up and down your pro hero boyfriend.
you’re aware he’d do anything for you. you’re wondering if anything stretches to this.
“you’re a fuckin… you want me to…,” he trails off, sitting up off you. his lower stomach heats. his cock twitches. he’s into this unsurprisingly. “fuck, baby.”
you don’t move but you look at him expectantly. like you know he will. your confidence makes his blood heat under his skin, his heart race with speed. you jut your chin to the floor.
always a stubborn man, he has to roll his eyes before he moves. even pushes out a huffy sigh and mumbles under his breath. “this shit you have me doin’.”
but he does it. manoeuvres his muscled, wide shouldered body onto the floor. onto his knees in front of your legs. your bare thighs spread on the sofa in your shorts… your pussy is right there. he can see your folds through the fabric since they’re so tight.
he’s got a muscle tank on and you see his biceps flex when he clasps his hands together. your favourite is how all his stubbornness dissipates away and he becomes completely and utterly yours.
when he opens his mouth, the corners of your lips spread to under your eyes in a smile.
“lemme eat it, baby. please. please let me. i’ll do it so good, get you comin’ on my face, screamin’ for me. baby.” it’s all a syrupy drawl, his gold tooth catching the lamp light with every word. he even leans forward to press a kiss to the flesh of your thigh.
katsuki on your knees for you. this is what dreams are made of.
he goes in for another kiss on your thigh, closer to between your legs. you place your palm on his forehead, pushing him off.
“you’re too needy. i didn’t even answer you,” you frown, lip curled.
bakugou doesn’t know where this version of you has come from but he thinks he loves it.
“my bad, baby. you’re just so gorgeous.” he grins with half lidded eyes. he wants to touch your calves, massage them, nibble hickies into your thighs and have your touch his cock.
but most of all he wants—, “can i eat you? promise i’ll lick you clean. any position you want. miss your taste, baby. please.”
you tilt your head at him.
“please, princess. my beautiful girl. the love of my fuckin’ existence.” he’s too fucking jolly. smiling away with these sleepy yet needy ruby eyes.
you stand up. he looks better at this angle on his knees. head up to look at you. he’s like a dog ready to scent you, by stuffing his head between your legs.
“fine. i want you to undress me then i’m sitting on your face.”
How did you end up with your thighs spread wide, your scrubs yanked down to your ankles and panties shoved aside, with your attending doctor and boss Satoru Gojo devouring your cunt?
He’s not just licking his pretty intern, his face is fucking buried, two fingers slipping into your hole, curving up to hit just your spot, the messy sounds lewd in his office. You’re bent right over his desk with your ass in the air as he buries his face deeper into your cunt, turning his head to slurp your lil clit in his hungry mouth.
“Mmnph!” You’re screaming into your hand, eyes rolling back in your skull – the hospital is quiet as it’s two in the damn morning, and you’re supposed to be leaving for the night – yet here you are.
Doctor Gojo's pretty face glittering with your slick, as he hits a desperate, messy angle, making your thighs shake, your ass arching for more. “Were you wanting this, pretty little intern?”
“Shh,” you whisper, but you have wanted it, how could you not want your doctor buried inside you? The kiss that you both shared in that elevator, the one you’ve touched yourself to last night in your bed, that kiss you tried to forget. You can’t ruin your chances of this internship, of being a top doctor just because Satoru Gojo is sexy, and his eyes are pretty.
Don’t you have more willpower?
You can’t remember any of it when his lips brushed against the shell of your ear and he whispered like a slutty freak –
'Want me to eat your cute little cunt, intern? I missed dinner today, I’m starving.'
Freak, freak, freak.
You’re not sure ‘freak’ covers what he’s doing, laughing softly as you squirm, whining into your palm, drooling against it. “Aw, can’t hold it in?”
Satoru is ruthless with it the more you’re rocking your hips back and forth, lapping at your folds with long, broad strokes with the flat of his tongue, slurping every bit of you up. He’s drowning in you, hands pulling your thighs apart even further, tugging at that elastic of your panties so he can jut his chin up, feeling the way you quiver around him.
Those long fingers sink back inside and stretch you wide, curling up immediately to find that one spot that makes your eyes roll back, your gasp ragged and desperate. “Inside me, please…”
“Hmm,” he pulls back with a messy pop, grinning as his fingers are coated in your slick, glistening all down his digits, pulling apart your plump lips to look right at your quivering hole. “I thought you said only this, remember sweetheart?”
“Once, once won’t hurt… r-right?”
He chuckles at that, standing up and slipping his cum soaked fingers right between your lips, you wrap them and suck eagerly, reaching back to feel his cock underneath those scrub bottoms, the material leaving nothing to the imagination. “Mmm!
“You want your attending to ruin your cunt?” His words are a soft taunt against your ear, you jolt as his breath tickles your skin, feeling his bulge press on the curve of your ass, pressing your body against his desk. “Slutty little intern, think it’ll get you in the scrub room with me?”
“No you dick,” you say after you yank his fingers, turning around and glaring, shoving his chest, his white lab coat falling ever so slightly. His lips are all glossy with your slick, making you blush. “Forget it.”
You slip up your pants and go to leave when he tugs your back against him, turning your face to kiss his lips, letting you taste yourself. It’s messy, dripping saliva and cum, you’re so needy you whimper, head falling back for his messy kisses. “I’d let you scrub in because you’re the best fucking intern, the smartest, has nothin’ to do with your messy cunt.”
“Such a dick,” you eat up his praise now, biting down on your lower lip – Satoru’s eyes are almost black with need. “You really think I’m the smartest?”
“It’s why I chose you,” he whispers, exhaling as your palm finds his cock again. “Been picturing you taking my cock since I picked you out from your med school graduation.”
“You’re such a pervert,” Satoru is a slutty pervert, and he feels no shame about it whatsoever, just a big white grin on his face, leaking pre through that light lavender, you lap it off your thumb, making his cheeks flush.
“And you’re slutty, wanting your attending so damn bad,” he turns you and lifts your ass up, folders flying and landing on the floor with light thuds, his mouth slipping up your throat, moaning against your skin. “Need my cock so bad?”
“You’re the one that wanted me in here,” your tit is in his palm, gripping it and squishing, thumb brushing on the nipple, swirling your areola and making it press up, your core clenching. You’re slipping his scrubs down, his cock slapping his belly button when he tugs up the top, pre dripping across his abdomen.
Satoru is huge.
You swallow nervously, even if you’re aching and soaked you’re not sure you can even take a cock like that. “Oh… fuck you’re…”
Satoru’s grinning like a little shit.
“You scared now, baby?” He taunts you, spreading your thighs and running his pretty pink tip between your folds, squishing as your needy hole is dripping down his length.
“Not scared,” your hands slip up his hard chest, biting your lower lip, looking at how he’s thickening more.
“You on something, intern?” He murmurs, tip pressing in, his hand shoves you till you’re on your back and elbows, breath making your breasts rise and fall, his hands slipping down your thighs to shove them higher.
“I am,” you whisper, eyes on his cock sinking inside your needy hole, inch by inch slowly disappearing, you’re so full with half inside you barely muffle your moan. “I’ve got the arm thing.”
You hold your arm up and he hums, slamming the rest of his cock deep inside, kissing that puffy cervix, balls smacking you with a messy thwack, watching your face as it contorts in pleasure. God how long has he wanted to be inside you? Since the moment he fucking saw your picture in a group of candidates for the top med students graduating.
Satoru’s been jerking it every day since you started your internship, every time your shoulders brushed against each other in the elevator, when you passed him in the halls and he caught a hint of your shampoo in his nostrils. He’s pulling back and shoving your top up, looking at the bulge moving in your tummy and sucking in a breath, your eyes catch sight and you blush all pretty.
“Good,” you raise a brow, then your eyes roll back with another filthy thrust in your gummy walls, quivering right around him.
“Good? Ah!”
“Not pulling out of this tiny little cunt, god how she grips me? Fuck,” you’re done when he slams in harder now, one hand under your head so it doesn’t slam back on the desk, his other on your throat, moving faster. “You like that idea, me cummin’ inside? Isn’t it just once?”
“Jus’ once,” you’re already fucked out with a few more strokes, the way his curved tip drags on your inner walls has you spasming, whining out into his lips when he greedily kisses you. “Twice.”
“Hah we’re not even done with once,” he smirks against your mouth, choking your throat lightly, loving those pretty tears slipping from your eyes in pleasure. “Already planning fucking me again?”
“N-no,” you’re not supposed to fuck your boss, you’re not supposed to fuck Satoru Gojo – top attending physician, top surgeon. You’re not supposed to clench around his thick cock as he chokes your throat, his baby blues fucking insane as he gets pussy drunk off you.
“Ah, then I’m afraid I’ll ruin ya for anyone,” he slams so deep you both moan out, fingers tightening around your neck, just in time for someone to knock.
“F-fuck…” You’re about to cum and Satoru isn’t stopping, he’s pressing his cock deep and rolling his hips, grinning down at you like the psycho he is.
“Doctor Gojo? Are you still here?” He yanks out of you before you can find your release, making you whine out loud.
“You dick!” You hiss, he turns you around and lifts your thigh up, bending you right over your desk, cock slamming right back inside. “Ah!”
“Doctor Gojo?”
“Yes I’m here, I’m just about to leave though… can this ah-” fuck you feel good, he’s wrapping his arm around your chest to press a hand on your shoulder, dragging you further down on his cock, forearm muffling your noises.
Doctor Gojo is putting you in a headlock and giving you back shots, his stethoscope clattering down the desk along with your badge, eyes going hazy and fuzzy with how deep his strokes hit. You’re drooling right on his lab coat, feeling his breath against your ear as he exhales, groaning your name in a whisper.
“Can this wait till tomorrow?” He manages to say finally, teeth nipping your earlobe, cock dragging against that spot in your walls again, making your cunt clamp down on it. “F-fuck, you’re milkin’ me, huh? Greedy lil intern.”
“Yes of course,” you finally hear footsteps, you’d have paused fucking Satoru but instead you’re arching your ass for more, letting his big ass arms take you over, drunk on him, so much you forget you’re in his office and dripping right down his desk.
“This is s-stupid,” you mumble, his balls slamming your needy clit, heavy and full of cum.
“You feel this good wrapping me? How’s it stupid,” he cries out softly now, your name spilling from his plump pink lips. “You’re about to cum, aren’t you? Go ahead, lemme feel it all over my cock – hah bet you’re messy, gonna soak my scrubs, my desk, yeah?”
“Y-you’re annoying,” he knows he is, you glare for just a moment at the pretentious man but then he arches his hips and hits that spot just right, you shatter, cumming so hard you can’t see, gasping out and moaning against the hand that clamps on your mouth. “Mnhph!”
“F-fuck,” he can’t move for a moment, not when you’re gushing down his cock, dripping all over, cunt squirting and pulsing right around him. He shoves your collar down, teeth sinking into your shoulders, thickening as he fucks you through it, achingly slow. “You are messy, look at you.”
“Shh,” your head falls back against his collarbone, he leans you up, fingers brushing on your clit, pressing in pretty patterns. “S-sensitive, mnh… Doctor Gojo I…”
“God yes, call me that,” he’s a sick, perverted fuck – he knew that when he jerked off on your first shift right in the locker room, but he couldn’t know just how wet you’d get. “Slutty cunt is spilling all over, look at that mess, can’t help it, can you baby?”
“Mnh, shut up and fuck me,” Satoru moans and finally kisses you rather than talking on and on – mouth moving over yours hungry, he sucks your little tongue right inside his mouth, making you gasp for a breath, just to have his spit right in your mouth, choking on him.
Satoru’s fingers work your clit faster, getting another orgasm from you, this one even messier, pulling it up and slipping his fingertips in your mouth, spreading it around like a gloss. He kisses it off you like he can’t get enough of the taste, drinking it down with greedy gulps, cupping your face almost gently for a moment, your noses brushing together.
Oh fuck, did his cock just make you dumb? Your ears are ringing, vision swimming with tears from overstim. You can’t just fuck him once and hope to ever be okay again with the worst dick – which is all you’ve had. You won’t say it though, instead you kiss him so you shut up, before you’re mumbling you’re in love because he fucked all your good sense away.
“Want me to fill your cunt up, till you’re drippin’ me all night? Fuck I’d fill you with so much cum you’d drip me in this hospital, I’d bend you over and fuck more inside every time you think we’re done,” you’re pressed down now on that desk, he’s lifting your ass and pounding his cock faster. “F-fuck, tell me you want it, all my cum baby, breed this slutty cunt.”
“Psycho, ngh,” you’re letting him fuck you so good you can’t remember what your damn specialty was, your career, his dumb life ruining dick and huge ass hands bruising your hips. “Cum inside, fuck do it…”
“I’d breed you, stuff you so full, hope your birth control can even take it, hah – have you ever been filled, slutty lil intern?” Satoru’s unhinged as fuck, the things spilling from his psycho mouth is just making you more sensitive, thighs trembling, drool spilling from your lips.
“Just cum, you talk s-so much,” he groans now, thickening in your walls, you feel every vein, every ridge, the lines of him deep in your hole as his pre dribbles against your cervix.
Satoru busts his white ropes deep inside you, flooding you with so much warmth you’re stuffed, just for him to pump even more, lips kissing up your neck, hand entangling in your hair as he leans you against the desk, weight pressing you tighter against it. “Takin’ all of it, cunt was made to take me, say it.”
“N-no… I… mnh!” Satoru’s fucking all that cum inside you that is dripping down, feeling you tremble, your little cries echoing in his ears.
“Made to take my shape, hah you’ll only know my shape, yeah?” You’re too dazed to argue, weak and dizzy, just for Doctor Gojo to finger that cum right back inside your sore little cunt. For him to suck his mess and yours off those fingers. “God, fuckin’ taste us together.”
Having him drive you home because your legs are shaking too badly to drive, sitting right in front of your apartment as you’re about to tell him good night. Only to take his cock down your throat, already hard and ready once more, sucking him deep and letting it hit the back of your throat, drooling all down his glistening length, his hands entangling in your hair.
You’re swallowing around him reflexively, his whimpers making you soaked again, his cum still trickling out from you. Satoru’s got you riding him in the front seat of his little black sports car – ass hitting the horn, head hitting the roof, you figure it’s just twice, right? It’s still only one night, even if it's three in the morning, and he’s pumping so much cum you’re bloated with it.
It’s just twice when he walks you in – what sort of gentleman would he be if he didn’t make sure you got inside all right? What sort of man would he be if he didn’t make sure to lift you right on your wall and fuck his two loads of cum out of your hole that’s so ready she just takes his cock, no fingers needed, easier and easier the looser you get from every stroke.
But then when you squirt, you’re tight all over again, and you’re squirting so much you’re dehydrated, weak and collapsing against him.
What sort of Doctor would he be if he didn’t re-hydrate you – making sure you have plenty of water, electrolytes added of course, and if he just left you like that and didn’t clean you properly!? No, Satoru takes it upon himself to lift your ass up on your bed, and kneel on your floor, lapping his own milky cum right from your abused hole, you’re hissing and tugging his white locks so good he comes from that.
Just from eating his slightly bitter seed mixed with your sweet juices, fuck does anything feel better than that gooey mix down his throat? No, he licks all of your pussy, your thighs, up your tummy, spitting it in your mouth so you can taste it too – why would he hog all of that to himself!?
And what sort of man wouldn’t stay the night, wouldn’t snatch up a couple pairs of panties for later while you’re snoring, wouldn’t stare at your pretty naked body and commit every bit of it to memory? If this was one night, he at least needs to have a mental image of his teeth marks, hickeys, bruises on your pretty skin.
You wake up with this psycho Doctor staring at you the next morning, grinning when your eyes focus on him, he’d fucked you so much you feel hungover from it all, trying to make the room not spin.
“Oh fuck… what time is it?” You mumble, Satoru peers at the watch on his wrist, a pretty silver rolex.
“Noon, but relax – got ya a day off.”
“How!? I can’t get any time off,” you lean up and he shrugs, smiling so damn charming with the light streaming in through the windows, casting a glow on his sharp features. You melt, how can you handle waking up to that in your bed?
“Thought you’d need a personal day,” his hand trails down from your waist, pressing on your tummy, making it heat up. “You took so much cum, sweetheart, sure you’re okay?”
“I’ll take the day,” you sigh and turn towards him. “You’re batshit insane, Doctor Gojo, you know that right?”
“Mhm,” he splays his fingers wide, humming just a bit, lips right next to yours. “You said one night, right?”
“I did,” you whisper, knowing you’re lying to yourself, looking into those pretty bright eyes and feeling dizzy from it, your entire body aching from being thrown into every position. “It’d be complicated…”
“Very, it’d be messy, ya know?”
“Mhm,” he’s resting his forehead on yours, letting you taste that breath, sweet even in the morning like he’s been sucking on mints. “I have to be serious about my career.”
“Very, can’t go getting knocked up and live in my mansion, huh?” You laugh softly, shaking your head. “Can’t just look pretty for a living, no – gotta work.”
“Mhm, I do need to work,” your hand slips down his chest, feeling his cock pressing against your thigh, hot and heavy. “It’d be a bad idea to do this all the time, right?”
“God yeah,” you touch his waist band, fingers brushing his happy trail, biting your lower lip as he studies you – intense, hovering right over you and rutting his cock with needy whimpers on your inner thigh. “If I fucked you in the locker room, if I fucked you in my office, the elevator…”
“S-scandalous,” you answer, stroking his cock and watching his cheeks flush, so goddamn sore but you can’t stand how badly you want him inside again. “I can’t just take back shots before my rounds, right?”
“Right sweetheart,” your thumb smears pre on his tip and he smirks down at you. “So no more.”
“No more.”
Satoru’s grabs your thighs, spreading them and placing his tip against your fucked out cunt. “Tch, what a shame my cock can’t give her what she wants.”
“It’s such a shame… r-really…” Satoru’s cock is buried in one stroke of your messy hole. “Mnh! O-one more night.”
“Hah,” he watches that bulge move inside you and grins, as if he’d let you walk around the hospital without his cum inside you ever again. “Sure sweetheart, one more.”
****
this was part of my angel @dollhousesinner's event!!! congrats on over 1k my angel I'm so happy you asked me to join innn!!!
it’s common knowledge that cult leader!geto is fundamentally incapable of saying no to his girls—all three of them. mimiko and nanako can secure matching outfits, accessories, or whatever confectionery catches their eyes on their “monkey-infested” shopping trips, and geto never bats an eye as he settles the bill. after all, the cult is prospering, and there is a certain poetic irony in using the monkeys’ own currency to bankroll his daughters’ happiness.
as for you, his lover and the doting mother figure to the twins, suguru is far more indulgent in spoiling you.
“one more.. just one more.”
your request slips out as an unwitting moan—distinctly whiny, though born of exhaustion rather than seduction.
“…pretty please?”
(you know damn well he would’ve caved even without the pathetic little performance, but it wouldn’t hurt to be polite.)
plus, that smile of his. god, that smile.
there, tugging at his lips, it is not the serpentine smirk he wears alongside his monastic robes in front of the masses. you’ve always found the look quite bone-chilling. now, his beautiful brown eyes crease into crescents because he is smiling for you.
“i see someone’s greedy tonight,”
suguru huffs, tucking a stray strand of inky hair behind his ear. the display of mock exasperation fails to conceal the adoration oozing through. interlocking his fingers, he makes a big show of pushing his palms outward, rolling his shoulders to stretch out the tension. he rolls his hips in a slowly, his muscle-rippled pelvis slick and shining with your combined cum, veins mapping down his lower abdomen and spider-webbing across his shaft as the bulbous, purplish-red tip weeps.
“you really want to milk me dry so badly, huh?”
wrapping a hand around his semi-invigorated cock, he gives it a few warming pumps before positioning himself.
sneaking around with best friend!geto is all fun and games until pretty girls start feeling up his biceps at the bar :(
“someone jealous?” gojo snickered in your ear, slinking up by your side as he waved the bartender over to order another obnoxiously fruity and brightly-colored beverage while you nursed your own suddenly bitter drink.
“yeah, you,” you sarcastically muttered, refusing to feed into his (correct) suspicions that you were sleeping with your mutual friend. the year you’d spent between geto’s sheets didn’t make you his girlfriend though.
not that you ever asked to be either.
“come on,” he goaded, his hip bumping into yours as he cocked his head towards where geto was currently getting groped by a manicured hand. “i know you want to pry him away.”
“so you can grab him next?” you teased, trying to deflect as you twisted around just for his hand to cage you in between his broad frame and the bar top. his pretty blue eyes were fuzzy though, pupils blown wide as you realized that maybe what he’d been sipping on tonight weren’t mocktails after all.
“nah,” he grinned, white teeth glinting as he leaned in lower. “think i’d rather grab you.”
“how much have you had to drink?” you exhaled, eyes drifting down to his glossy lips, lingering there a little longer than they should.
“enough to want a taste of you,” he shamelessly smirked at his attempt to be seductive, his palm sliding up your side as if it always had a place there.
you’d never taken any of his flirting seriously.
but maybe you should’ve.
considering whether or not imploding your situationship over sleeping with your other friend as gojo’s fingertips gracefully slipped down to disappear underneath your dress.
“you’re touching something of mine,” a honeyed voice interrupted with a drawn-out huff, but gojo didn’t pull away.
and a new idea blossomed, your mouth curling up as you glanced between the two men too busy glaring at each other to notice the sparkle in your stare.
what better way to punish your man by showing him just how swiftly a certain someone else would swoop in to steal you?
“boys,” you hummed, clicking your tongue. “don’t you know how nice Paris is right now?”
Your legs were spread wide over his shoulders as he pounded into you relentlessly. The room filled with the obscene sounds of skin slapping skin, your desperate moans, his rough grunts. Each deep thrust made your breasts bounce, your nipples rubbing against his chest. You were leaking around his cock, your juices dripping down your ass. It was humiliating.
Your orgasm hit you like a thunderbolt—violent, overwhelming, completely against your will. Your walls clamped around his cock like a vice, milking him desperately as your back arched off the mattress. Your whole body shook, screaming with pleasure. He watched your face twist in ecstasy, his pupils blown as he took it all in. "Already?" he grunted, not slowing down.
Your hands pushed at his chest—weak, trembling, futile against his solid mass. Your orgasm had left you hypersensitive, every thrust now pushing you closer to another shattering peak. “Slow d-down!”
He ignored your weak pushes, his pace slowing only slightly—enough to draw out your sensitivity but not enough to ease the overwhelming sensation. His hands gripped your thighs, pulling them wider as he hit you deeper, slower. "You were begging for this earlier," he growled, his voice mocking.
His slow, deep thrusts made your clit grind against his pelvis with each movement, sending electric shocks through your overstimulated body. Tiny whimpers escaped you, tears streaming down your face—overwhelmed. "Look at you," he breathed against your ear, his breath hot and ragged.
His name on your lips—pleading, desperate—made his cock twitch inside you. He loved breaking you down, loved hearing that sweet voice beg for mercy or more. His hands moved to your hips, holding you still as he picked up speed again, hitting that spot deep inside that made your eyes roll back.
“Oh, god!”
Your cries filled the room, sweet music to his ears. "God isn't here, sweetheart," His thumb pressed against your clit, grinding in circles as he thrust. The dual stimulation was too much—your body screamed, another orgasm bubbling just beneath the surface. Your nails dug bloody crescents into his shoulders, your thighs trembling violently around his neck. "Just me," he growled, his voice rough.
Your legs were spread wide over his shoulders as he pounded into you relentlessly. The room filled with the obscene sounds of skin slapping skin, your desperate moans, his rough grunts. Each deep thrust made your breasts bounce, your nipples rubbing against his chest. You were leaking around his cock, your juices dripping down your ass. It was humiliating.
Your orgasm hit you like a thunderbolt—violent, overwhelming, completely against your will. Your walls clamped around his cock like a vice, milking him desperately as your back arched off the mattress. Your whole body shook, screaming with pleasure. He watched your face twist in ecstasy, his pupils blown as he took it all in. "Already?" he grunted, not slowing down.
Your hands pushed at his chest—weak, trembling, futile against his solid mass. Your orgasm had left you hypersensitive, every thrust now pushing you closer to another shattering peak. “Slow d-down!”
He ignored your weak pushes, his pace slowing only slightly—enough to draw out your sensitivity but not enough to ease the overwhelming sensation. His hands gripped your thighs, pulling them wider as he hit you deeper, slower. "You were begging for this earlier," he growled, his voice mocking.
His slow, deep thrusts made your clit grind against his pelvis with each movement, sending electric shocks through your overstimulated body. Tiny whimpers escaped you, tears streaming down your face—overwhelmed. "Look at you," he breathed against your ear, his breath hot and ragged.
His name on your lips—pleading, desperate—made his cock twitch inside you. He loved breaking you down, loved hearing that sweet voice beg for mercy or more. His hands moved to your hips, holding you still as he picked up speed again, hitting that spot deep inside that made your eyes roll back.
“Oh, god!”
Your cries filled the room, sweet music to his ears. "God isn't here, sweetheart," His thumb pressed against your clit, grinding in circles as he thrust. The dual stimulation was too much—your body screamed, another orgasm bubbling just beneath the surface. Your nails dug bloody crescents into his shoulders, your thighs trembling violently around his neck. "Just me," he growled, his voice rough.
Your legs were spread wide over his shoulders as he pounded into you relentlessly. The room filled with the obscene sounds of skin slapping skin, your desperate moans, his rough grunts. Each deep thrust made your breasts bounce, your nipples rubbing against his chest. You were leaking around his cock, your juices dripping down your ass. It was humiliating.
Your orgasm hit you like a thunderbolt—violent, overwhelming, completely against your will. Your walls clamped around his cock like a vice, milking him desperately as your back arched off the mattress. Your whole body shook, screaming with pleasure. He watched your face twist in ecstasy, his pupils blown as he took it all in. "Already?" he grunted, not slowing down.
Your hands pushed at his chest—weak, trembling, futile against his solid mass. Your orgasm had left you hypersensitive, every thrust now pushing you closer to another shattering peak. “Slow d-down!”
He ignored your weak pushes, his pace slowing only slightly—enough to draw out your sensitivity but not enough to ease the overwhelming sensation. His hands gripped your thighs, pulling them wider as he hit you deeper, slower. "You were begging for this earlier," he growled, his voice mocking.
His slow, deep thrusts made your clit grind against his pelvis with each movement, sending electric shocks through your overstimulated body. Tiny whimpers escaped you, tears streaming down your face—overwhelmed. "Look at you," he breathed against your ear, his breath hot and ragged.
His name on your lips—pleading, desperate—made his cock twitch inside you. He loved breaking you down, loved hearing that sweet voice beg for mercy or more. His hands moved to your hips, holding you still as he picked up speed again, hitting that spot deep inside that made your eyes roll back.
“Oh, god!”
Your cries filled the room, sweet music to his ears. "God isn't here, sweetheart," His thumb pressed against your clit, grinding in circles as he thrust. The dual stimulation was too much—your body screamed, another orgasm bubbling just beneath the surface. Your nails dug bloody crescents into his shoulders, your thighs trembling violently around his neck. "Just me," he growled, his voice rough.
Your legs were spread wide over his shoulders as he pounded into you relentlessly. The room filled with the obscene sounds of skin slapping skin, your desperate moans, his rough grunts. Each deep thrust made your breasts bounce, your nipples rubbing against his chest. You were leaking around his cock, your juices dripping down your ass. It was humiliating.
Your orgasm hit you like a thunderbolt—violent, overwhelming, completely against your will. Your walls clamped around his cock like a vice, milking him desperately as your back arched off the mattress. Your whole body shook, screaming with pleasure. He watched your face twist in ecstasy, his pupils blown as he took it all in. "Already?" he grunted, not slowing down.
Your hands pushed at his chest—weak, trembling, futile against his solid mass. Your orgasm had left you hypersensitive, every thrust now pushing you closer to another shattering peak. “Slow d-down!”
He ignored your weak pushes, his pace slowing only slightly—enough to draw out your sensitivity but not enough to ease the overwhelming sensation. His hands gripped your thighs, pulling them wider as he hit you deeper, slower. "You were begging for this earlier," he growled, his voice mocking.
His slow, deep thrusts made your clit grind against his pelvis with each movement, sending electric shocks through your overstimulated body. Tiny whimpers escaped you, tears streaming down your face—overwhelmed. "Look at you," he breathed against your ear, his breath hot and ragged.
His name on your lips—pleading, desperate—made his cock twitch inside you. He loved breaking you down, loved hearing that sweet voice beg for mercy or more. His hands moved to your hips, holding you still as he picked up speed again, hitting that spot deep inside that made your eyes roll back.
“Oh, god!”
Your cries filled the room, sweet music to his ears. "God isn't here, sweetheart," His thumb pressed against your clit, grinding in circles as he thrust. The dual stimulation was too much—your body screamed, another orgasm bubbling just beneath the surface. Your nails dug bloody crescents into his shoulders, your thighs trembling violently around his neck. "Just me," he growled, his voice rough.
Your legs were spread wide over his shoulders as he pounded into you relentlessly. The room filled with the obscene sounds of skin slapping skin, your desperate moans, his rough grunts. Each deep thrust made your breasts bounce, your nipples rubbing against his chest. You were leaking around his cock, your juices dripping down your ass. It was humiliating.
Your orgasm hit you like a thunderbolt—violent, overwhelming, completely against your will. Your walls clamped around his cock like a vice, milking him desperately as your back arched off the mattress. Your whole body shook, screaming with pleasure. He watched your face twist in ecstasy, his pupils blown as he took it all in. "Already?" he grunted, not slowing down.
Your hands pushed at his chest—weak, trembling, futile against his solid mass. Your orgasm had left you hypersensitive, every thrust now pushing you closer to another shattering peak. “Slow d-down!”
He ignored your weak pushes, his pace slowing only slightly—enough to draw out your sensitivity but not enough to ease the overwhelming sensation. His hands gripped your thighs, pulling them wider as he hit you deeper, slower. "You were begging for this earlier," he growled, his voice mocking.
His slow, deep thrusts made your clit grind against his pelvis with each movement, sending electric shocks through your overstimulated body. Tiny whimpers escaped you, tears streaming down your face—overwhelmed. "Look at you," he breathed against your ear, his breath hot and ragged.
His name on your lips—pleading, desperate—made his cock twitch inside you. He loved breaking you down, loved hearing that sweet voice beg for mercy or more. His hands moved to your hips, holding you still as he picked up speed again, hitting that spot deep inside that made your eyes roll back.
“Oh, god!”
Your cries filled the room, sweet music to his ears. "God isn't here, sweetheart," His thumb pressed against your clit, grinding in circles as he thrust. The dual stimulation was too much—your body screamed, another orgasm bubbling just beneath the surface. Your nails dug bloody crescents into his shoulders, your thighs trembling violently around his neck. "Just me," he growled, his voice rough.
Your legs were spread wide over his shoulders as he pounded into you relentlessly. The room filled with the obscene sounds of skin slapping skin, your desperate moans, his rough grunts. Each deep thrust made your breasts bounce, your nipples rubbing against his chest. You were leaking around his cock, your juices dripping down your ass. It was humiliating.
Your orgasm hit you like a thunderbolt—violent, overwhelming, completely against your will. Your walls clamped around his cock like a vice, milking him desperately as your back arched off the mattress. Your whole body shook, screaming with pleasure. He watched your face twist in ecstasy, his pupils blown as he took it all in. "Already?" he grunted, not slowing down.
Your hands pushed at his chest—weak, trembling, futile against his solid mass. Your orgasm had left you hypersensitive, every thrust now pushing you closer to another shattering peak. “Slow d-down!”
He ignored your weak pushes, his pace slowing only slightly—enough to draw out your sensitivity but not enough to ease the overwhelming sensation. His hands gripped your thighs, pulling them wider as he hit you deeper, slower. "You were begging for this earlier," he growled, his voice mocking.
His slow, deep thrusts made your clit grind against his pelvis with each movement, sending electric shocks through your overstimulated body. Tiny whimpers escaped you, tears streaming down your face—overwhelmed. "Look at you," he breathed against your ear, his breath hot and ragged.
His name on your lips—pleading, desperate—made his cock twitch inside you. He loved breaking you down, loved hearing that sweet voice beg for mercy or more. His hands moved to your hips, holding you still as he picked up speed again, hitting that spot deep inside that made your eyes roll back.
“Oh, god!”
Your cries filled the room, sweet music to his ears. "God isn't here, sweetheart," His thumb pressed against your clit, grinding in circles as he thrust. The dual stimulation was too much—your body screamed, another orgasm bubbling just beneath the surface. Your nails dug bloody crescents into his shoulders, your thighs trembling violently around his neck. "Just me," he growled, his voice rough.
sukuna grinding his cock up into you in the middle of a frat party, lazily rolling his hips up to hit that sweet spot and keeping your back pressed against your chest as he murmured in your ear, "you gonna moan?"
shaking your head no to stop yourself from whimpering at the weight of his forearm wrapped possessively around your waist while drunk frat bros passed you by, chatting about stupid shit and gawking at sorority girls and totally clueless to the way you were getting ruthlessly stretched out around your situationship's thick cock.
"y-you wish," you quietly insisted, biting down on the bottom of your lip just for him to laugh at you, your skirt flipped up as your lace thong started to chaff against the inside of your thigh.
"i do," he hummed, his teeth grazing against the inside of your throat. "want them to know who's fucking you like this."
"no thanks," you huffed at him, trying your hardest to keep a straight face when he was intent to keep you squirming on his lap. no one else needed to know what you shared. which you were sure should just be sex. no matter what either of you said in the heat of the moment. "m'not yours."
wearing enjin’s spare coat and his shirt while he’s out on a mission, messily drawn on versions of his hand tattoo and nails painted just like his as you quietly hiccup, your hand weakly working between your legs.
“j-jin, enjinnn…”
it’s not enough, it’s not the same, your hands don’t feel as big as his, as thick, and don’t reach as deep as his, it’s just not him.
but you don’t realize you accidentally activated your choker when your other hand brushed against it to hold his shirt up against your nose.
“e-enjin, fuck, pleaseeee…”
“just like that, doll, keep goin’, im here.”
you don’t even get to act shocked, so needy for him that you immediately sob in relief, your pussy clenching tight around your fingers just from the sound of his hushed voice.
“go ahead baby, touch yourself for me and I’ll be back a soon to make it all better, i promise.”
hellooo this is me reminding u to write about sleepy bkg leaving ur apartment at night and begging for more kisses 🫡🫡
GO HOME! (2.5k)
— bakugou katsuki x reader
your boyfriend doesn’t want to go home.
cw: suggestive, swearing, pretty tame
“i can hear you not putting your shoes on!” you shout from your kitchen, refilling up your water bottle by your sink.
it’s nearing eleven pm on a weekday and you’re nearing the end of your bedtime routine. after finishing your final session of tussling in bed with your boyfriend, you sleepily got to showering and doing your skincare while bakugou was tasked to go back home.
you’re screwing your lid back onto your bottle, bag of popcorn under one arm as you step into your foyer. you find your boyfriend slumped in your chair for putting shoes on, doing exactly not that.
bakugou katsuki is in his thick grey socks, a random pair of black joggers he left at your flat and his oversized khaki hoodie. he looks handsome, always does, but this time he’s appearing a little disheveled. a flower wilting as the clouds begin hiding the sun.
you’re his precious sun with the energy to keep him happy and at peace, till he’s forcefully pulled from your grip.
his hoodie is unzipped, the right side awkwardly longer than the left from being dragged on in a tantrum. his white tee underneath is creased from yanking it over his head with a guttural sigh. he’s even got a water stain on it from hovering over you when you washed your face in the bathroom.
he’s got his head in his hands, legs spread with his travel duffle by his feet. he hasn’t even managed to grab his shoes off your neatly organised rack by your door.
you potter over to him, shaking your head softly with a sweet coo.
bakugou does not want to go home.
“baby. go,” you hum, dragging your slippered feet across your floor.
you tuck your body between his open legs, putting down your bottle and snacks to lightly tickle under his chin. you receive the harshest glare you’ve ever experienced from him, though it’s still miles below the ones he gives at work.
calloused hands find the bare backs of your soft thighs and lightly, he squeezes.
“you fuckin’ hate me,” he huffs, but his pout comes through. all his features softening under your attention, minus the twist in his brows. “gettin’ rid of me like this.”
you don’t miss the hickies on his neck, two maroon bruises because all you’ve done together these past few days is kiss, cuddle, eat and have sex. since bakugou became your boyfriend, he often forgets about his own apartment. his home is much larger, much more luxurious with built in speakers in the ceilings and a double headed shower. but he always lingers in yours, though he never outstays his welcome. even now.
“i don’t want you to leave but you need to pack for your mission tomorrow,” you smile, taller than him as he sits.
he feels delirious when he stuffs his face in your cotton soft stomach. you smell freshly showered, clean, cosy and like home. bakugou feels like his heart has been stabbed with a fork. he already misses you and you’re right in front of him.
it’s like he’s fighting the devil on his shoulder, to just stay over again tonight and get up early tomorrow. he can grab his shit from home and go straight there. he knows that plan will throw his whole day off tomorrow. also you hate waking up early.
he blinks at you slowly, like a cat that loves what he sees.
for you, it’s easy to get hot from his touch alone and that stare makes you nudge in closer to him. you want to sit on his lap, kiss down his neck again, despite being all over him an hour ago.
“you want me to piss off so you can watch love island,” he breathes, looking up at you with the sweetest ruby puppy dog eyes. there’s a scratchy tone to his voice, sleepiness clearly taking over though he fights it to spend a second longer with you.
you know for a fact you’re the only person in this universe that has seen katsuki like this. that thought alone makes you want to call up his job and say he can’t come in tomorrow. say he’s sick so you can cuddle his big head in your lap. who would you even call? the hero commission? his sidekicks? he is his own boss.
“i do have a load of episodes to catch up on since you’ve been here,” you say sweetly and he eyes your snacks, then your water bottle placed on the shelf beside him.
he’s a grumpy baby in a twenty seven year old, muscled man’s body. he scrunches his nose at the mention of that show. he hates all reality tv, so he says, even though he ends up asking you for details throughout every episode.
“just say you hate me,” he grunts, tilting his head up for a kiss.
you don’t give in just yet.
“i love you but you’ve gotta go. you’ll be even grumpier without sleep in the morning,” you smile.
he rolls his eyes. ever the dramatic one. “yeah, yeah. i get it. love you too.”
you stand there for a few moments. his grip on your thighs getting tighter, his chin in your stomach. he rubs his cheek against your palm, his stubble prickling against you with every move.
“you need to put your shoes on—,”
“you look so pretty like this,” he murmurs, even biting down on his bottom lip.
you narrow your eyes at him. you know exactly what he’s doing and it usually has a hundred percent success ratio.
he pulls off you, keeping his hands on your thighs to look down your body. stupidly, it causes you to look down at yourself too.
your soft pastel pink boy shorts because you get hot at night. your comfy low cut navy strappy top, that has seen better days but you have no need to replace yet. your nipples poke through the fabric and you don’t miss bakugou’s gaze wafting over them with his tongue poking his cheek.
he looks as if he’s about to moan or take a bite out of you. you can’t tell yet. you don’t mind either.
“katsuki, stop it. you were supposed to leave an hour ago,” you look to your clock beside your front door. “an hour and a half ago.”
bakugou grits his teeth then relaxes by kissing the strip of your stomach between your vest and shorts. he releases the quietest whine.
“i wanna stay here with you.”
even though he’s being dramatic, you’ll see him in less than a week, every word releases tingles down your spine.
you press a kiss to his lips, to which he eagerly pushes back. his hands sneak up to your waist holding you with purpose. it’s only a peck but everything he’s feeling is translated through.
“you’re killin’ me,” he says onto your lips.
“it’s not me, baby. you have the world to save tomorrow. you can make love to your girlfriend when you get back,” you say tenderly, brushing your thumb over his cheek.
“i’m givin’ you a good fuckin’ when i see you again.”
“you always do,” you shrug playfully and bakugou chuckles, shaking his head in resignation.
“fuck. fuck my life,” he grunts to himself, pulling his slides off your shoe rack and shoving them onto his feet.
“it feels like you’re obsessed with me, kats,” you giggle to yourself, stepping back so he has space to stand up and sling his duffle over his shoulder.
he raises one eyebrow, a huffy laugh releasing from his throat.
“hm? you think?” he takes his hand through his hair, a light pink blush on his cheeks from your attention. “‘course i fuckin’ am. i’m comin’ right back to get you when i’m done.”
you lift up on your tiptoes, hands on his pectorals, “if you say so.”
“i do say so. i am sayin’ that,” he mumbles, hands finding your ass to lift you with ease.
you wrap your legs around his waist so he doesn’t have to bend to kiss you.
“next thursday, okay?” he kisses the corner of your lips, feeling your cheeks rise. “and still text me. i’ll have my phone on me in the evenings.”
you smooth down his eyebrows with your thumbs.
“yes, dynamight sir,” you drawl, but you lean in to peck him, a noisy kiss that has him chasing after you. he moans softly.
“another.” he whispers.
with your arms wrapped around his neck, you give his bottom lip a nibble, one that causes an exasperated groan. then you slot your lips over his, pushing your tongue into his mouth to tangle against his. it’s long, wet and pulses throughout your body.
you push your chest against his as if you’re trying to merge into one, bakugou’s fingertips sinking into your ass cheeks.
it’s you that pulls away, landing two kisses on his lips for good measure.
“baby, no.” he complains.
since you’re the only one with self control here, you tap his shoulder.
“put me down now. you’ve got to go.” you say controlled and bakugou throws his head back in annoyance, “need you wide awake on the field so you don’t get hurt. i don’t wanna see a scratch on your pretty face when you come back.”
that gets him putting you down, your feet finding the floor. since getting with you, he’s much more mindful of his recklessness and getting hurt. bakugou doesn’t want to scare or upset you. you’ve become his beacon of light, his conscience and answer.
“my pretty face?” he grips the handle to his bag, a smirk rising. he’s still taking in his last few seconds.
you nod, “yes. come home safe to me.”
“i always do. don’t have to doubt me, princess.”
the pet name gets you rolling your eyes to hide how it makes your stomach do flips. he undoes both your door locks and slowly opens it with his shoulder like it weighs a tonne.
as if it’s becoming real all of a sudden, you throw yourself into his chest, wrapping your arms around him in a cuddle under his hoodie. you feel complete once you stuff your cheek between his pectorals and you squeeze him tight as thick arms cradle you in. katsuki’s always warm and toasty, a tall standing mattress for you to fall asleep on.
despite you urging him to leave, it doesn’t mean your heart doesn’t ache.
“i’ll miss you,” you say, eyes squeezed shut.
you’re just as dramatic as him, you just hide it better. you’ll see him next week.
“i’ll miss you. gonna think about you when i’m on the camp site shittin’ in the woods.”
your laugh makes bakugou’s chest swell.
“you’re so annoying.”
he shrugs.
with all the power he’s ever possessed in one single time, bakugou lets you untangle from him.
“i’m gonna go now.” he looks down your empty corridor, “i could stay over tonight and leave in the mornin’—.”
“you’re not waking me up at three.”
he turns to you with a frown.
“fine. another kiss, to wish me well,” he demands.
that you can do.
a smush of your lips, you gripping his tee as his hand cups your chin.
“another. for good luck.”
you huff playfully but still you give him another kiss. one that has you opening your mouth and letting him slot his tongue in between. it goes on longer than you mean, with you dragging him closer and his hands land back on your hips.
it’s when he groans without realising, a hardening bump in his waistband pressing against your stomach.
“go now!” you say, pushing him off you and bakugou drags a palm down his face.
“fuck,” he breathes, shaking the horny off his body. not the time. “i’ll see you next week. lock the door behind me. all of them.”
“i always do!”
he flickers down your body, one step into the corridor.
bakugou bites down on his bottom lip, “i love you. can’t wait to see you again.”
you awe, gripping the door and peeking out, “i love you too. i’ll keep you updated. even send you some selfies.”
bakugou nods rapidly, “please. i won’t be able to reply quickly but i will.”
“okay, i’ll see you later.”
he’s about to step away, he swears he is though he looks back at you peeping at him.
“one last kiss then i’m outta your sight,” he promises.
you eagerly pull out from behind the door, “last one! then you have to go!”
“yeah, yeah, yeah—,” he’s rough in the way you love, placing a palm flat on your back to pull you into him. you practically fall into his arms but quickly you’re up on your tiptoes.
it’s a kiss with the energy that it could be the last one you ever have. a hero going off on a mission and leaving his beautiful girl back home. though this isn’t one of his high risk ones, heck he’s going on his own because he’s so capable. yet still the day he returns feels like forever away.
you practically eat each other's faces, unable to stay appropriate down to your last moments together. you twist to the left as he goes right, holding the back of his head so he stays close. he’s not shy to push his cock into you, letting you know all the ways he will miss you.
it’s loud and messy. it’s trying to remember every inch of him so you can recall it in your nights alone. it’s bakugou groping every part of you he can get his hands on so he can mark you as his.
your blonde sucks on your tongue and you don’t mean to palm him but he ruts into you at the contact. you moan as pleasure sparks beneath your skin, the length of him growing cupped in your palm. you’re wondering if there’s time for another session even though he was meant to leave two hours ago.
the kiss only ends because you’re both breathless, using your last breaths to connect with the other. there’s giggles from you and three extra pecks before you force yourself to step away, using your front door as a shield from your riled up boyfriend.
you watch as he adjusts himself, rolls back his shoulders in a stretch and tries to screw his head on straight.
“goodbye now. for real, kats.”
he nods sharply, stretching his jaw side to side. “bye baby. i’m hard now.”
“that’s your own fault for begging for more kisses,” you grin.
he pouts, “how couldn’t i when you look like—,”
“bye katsuki. my tv is calling me!”
“fuck,” he groans, holding onto his bag strap and throwing his head back, “bye princess.”
comments n reblogs are appreciated. part 2 comments are deleted.
synopsis: how can you say you don't need him when he so wretchedly needs you?
warnings: flreader, nsfw, minors dni, established relationship, miscommunication, yn doesnt 'need' bkg, make-up sex, handjob, fingering (f), cunnilingus, dramatic bkg, doggy style, fluffy&intimate, emotional bkg, needy bkg, what more do i tag lol
a/n: for you, saint @saintokkotsu !! thank you for being so lovely to me. based off that one lyric in i drink wine by adele!
what bakugou feels right now is akin to heartbreak. his heart is broken, raw and missing every other beat. instead of crying over whatever is left of his heart, the feelings have morphed into silent rage, especially at the fact you’re sitting beside him in his car unaware of it all.
he’s not sure if he’s being dramatic, he did only hear less than half of the conversation you were having with your coworker but it’s enough to feel as if his head is being dunked underwater repeatedly with no time to breathe for air.
you’re confused and unsure, as shown by your finger tapping on your knee instead of grabbing his hand like you usually do. your boyfriend looks like a bubbling pot beside you about to spill over.
“did you have a bad day at work?”
your voice makes him wince, memories of how it sounded just this morning, joyful and loving, embarrassing him.
“yeah,” it’s a lie, it sounds burnt on his tongue.
“ah,” you nod in a show of understanding but really, nothing has changed.
in your year of knowing bakugou, half of that time being in a relationship with him, you’ve never quite seen him like this. jaw clenched, eyes narrowed, fingers so tight on his steering wheel you think it’s close to snapping. it’s not the explosive anger you see the news reporters talk about or you hear stories of his friends telling. rather, it’s stone cold brewing. you think this anger is reserved for you.
“did i do something?” you whisper.
you sound hurt and that makes bakugou ache.
he doesn’t know how to reply to you and luckily, he’s just pulled up outside of his apartment so he can starve it off for longer. he doesn’t even know why he still wants to be in your presence but he desperately does. this is his love, still aflame during his anger.
he parks and presses a button so his car engine shuts down. with no rumble of the engine, you’re both sitting in quiet. you make no turn to move as bakugou opens his car door.
“katsuki, i am not coming out until you tell me what’s wrong. there’s no point in me coming inside if you’re not talking to me.”
bakugou freezes. you say the words to his back, measuring how all the muscles are tense beneath his long sleeve black t-shirt. he huffs, then groans aloud before roughly wiping his face.
“i heard what you said earlier.”
“to who?”
“your fuckin’ coworker, that guy.”
he was leaning outside your work building, waiting for you to come out.
“your sugar daddy’s waiting for you outside, huh?”
bakugou’s never liked that guy, he always seemed slimy and hopelessly in love with you. you just called it his ‘boyfriend brain’ whenever he spoke about it.
you snort, “he is not my sugar daddy.”
“doesn’t he practically buy you everything? new bag, new shoes? why’re you even working?”
bakugou knows your tones like your facial expressions. you’re disgusted when you reply, “how is this any of your business? i don’t use my boyfriend for money. i don’t even need him.”
that’s all bakugou heard before a needle popped his heart and blood began to spill over his shoes.
if you don’t need him, why are you with him? what is your relationship built on if there’s nothing you need from him? all his other ones need him. his presence to save, his strength, his knowledge. his parents have always needed him to keep their relationship strong, his agency is built on their need for him to stay alive. everyone needs something from him. how can you say you don’t when he so wretchedly needs you?
he retreats into his car seat, slamming the door shut. silence swallows you both.
you want to question why he was even listening to your conversation but it’s pointless anyway. you’re not sure which part of your conversation would deserve this reaction.
“how much did you hear? what was wrong with what i said?”
the first time he properly looks at you today comes with an annoyed, nasty frown.
“you said you didn’t fuckin’ need me.”
now you frown.
“i said i didn’t need you, yes.”
a tether of his temper snaps, “so why the fuck are we together?”
“don’t talk to me like that,” you snap.
silence. both of you watch a man across the street walking his dog.
“we’re together because i love you but i don’t need you. if something happens and you leave, i’ll still be here. alive.” you watch his face for a reaction but he’s still looking ahead. “and he was talking about your money. i work for my own.”
bakugou realises he’s never admitted to himself the things he needs. he doesn’t ever need people the same way people need him. minus perhaps other heroes for certain missions. though this premature heartbreak he’s been feeling, a rush from zero to a hundred, makes him think.
“i need you. without you, i’d be nothing.”
you shake your head softly and bakugou turns to look at you. you take his hand and it’s warm.
“that’s not true, gorgeous. you’d still be bakugou katsuki. you’d still be dynamight.”
“i don’t want any of that if it’s not with you.” you kiss his knuckles.
“katsuki. baby,” you take a deep breath, “i think you’re used to people relying on you all the time. your family, the country, the world. i want you to know i want you for you. i don’t want anything from you. i don’t need you for your money or your strength. you make me better and happy by being you. there’s nothing more i ask for.”
bakugou feels his heart mending itself, stitching each tear and slowly beating back to normal. perhaps this is what he’s always needed to hear. you don’t need him. you don’t want anything from him, just him.
bakugou sniffs, meeting your eyes. your hand comes to cradle his cheek and he presses your forehead together.
“fuck, i’m sorry. i should probably go back to therapy, right?” he chuckles breathily, his eyes glossy though no tears fall.
his breath is hot on your face and you begin to smile at the feeling of his nose brushing against yours. he’s beautiful with his fluffy dark eyelashes and shiny ruby eyes.
“probably, but we can sort that out later.” you press a kiss to his mouth, then another but this time he holds the back of your head to keep you close to him. he inhales like it’s the first time he’s kissed you in years.
once you pull away, you mumble against his lips, “let’s go inside now. i’m starving.”
when you’ve both finished eating, dressed snuggled in your pyjamas, you notice that your boyfriend is oddly embarrassed about his outburst earlier. you never see him embarrassed, perhaps a couple of times at the beginning of your relationship when he’d stutter accidentally or he tried to open the door for you and it smacked him in the forehead. but since then, never. you want your boyfriend back.
you decide to bombard him when he’s hand washing the dishes instead of using the dishwasher beside him.
you lean on the kitchen island with your elbows, chin resting on your palms.
“gorgeous?”
he can always sense you, knows where you are. stupid hero tingles.
bakugou turns his head to look over you, “baby.”
“i miss you.”
“i’m right here.”
“no, you’re still caught up about what happened earlier.”
he rolls his head back to look at his soapy hands, “‘m not.”
you sigh softly, padding across the floor in your fluffy socks. you circle your arms around his waist, your cheek pressed against his back. here you were connected, heartbeats simmering to one.
“i love you,” you murmur, pressing a kiss through his t-shirt.
you can’t see his hands from this angle but you can hear the water sloshing about as he cleans the plates.
“yeah. i love you too. i think too much.”
you gasp jokingly, laying your palms flat on his toned chest, “you say it like it’s a bad thing!”
he shakes his head, “it’s not. just that it felt like you stabbed me earlier and now i’m in fuckin’ recovery.”
“oh baby,” you coo. you never realised how deep the roots of his need for people to need him really were. you brush the tips of your fingers against his dick, hidden away in his shorts. your touch is only light, hovering, and you feel his abs tense. “will this make you feel better?”
bakugou’s laugh is strained, humming at the feeling of you pressed against his back. “yeah, it fuckin’ will.”
you take the yes with glee, slowly pulling down his shorts and boxers in one go. his hands are still in the soapy water, squeezing the life out of a sponge when you bring your palm to your face to spit on and then cradle his length.
you don’t say a word when you flick your wrist over him. it’s not too fast, not too slow. a comfortable pace for him to slowly harden in your hand. you indulge in the feeling of knowing him so well, without even seeing his face.
how his breath switches to breathy grunts, his fingers becoming pale white from clenching the sink. you can barely look around him to see but you can tell from only the sight of his neck that he’s looking down, mesmerised by your hand.
you’re warm and treat him with skill. you look after him, is all bakugou thinks. he can just relax, worries of before slipping off his shoulders and he focuses on the burning desire building.
“oh fuck,” he spills, hips bucking involuntarily into your palm. you bite down on your lip, the feeling of him getting heavier, slick with his own pre.
“there’s nobody i want more than you,”
“shit,”
you pick up the pace, moving your wrist how you’ve seen him move on himself. you match his hip thrusts and bakugou feels his vision blur. he clenches his eyes shut, biceps thick and bulging.
a slick, wet, pat pat pat, fills the air. you feel all the muscles in his body tense, his head flinging back as finally, he lets go. his hot release covers your fingers and you keep pumping till it’s all out.
“motherfucker. oh fuck, you feel good. this is so… urgh,” he groans and you let him, even rubbing his stomach soothingly.
his come drips to the floor and unsurprisingly, you’re turned on by the sight. making him come while not even seeing what you’re doing.
once he’s all done, catching his breath and wiping his forehead, you push.
“are you still too busy moping away to sort me out?”
“watch your mouth,” he snaps.
you think he’s back. you grin.
after wiping your hand with a paper towel, bakugou pulls up his shorts and picks you up in one swoop, swinging you over his shoulder.
“katsuki!” two large wet hand imprints are at your waist.
he’s on a mission stomping through his home into his bedroom, “i’m gonna do more than just sort you out, baby.”
bakugou throws you back onto his bed and you get to see his face. the sadistic grin you love to see, the desire for you swimming in his ruby pupils. he yanks you by the legs so your pelvis is at the edge of the bed.
“if all this shit didn’t happen today, i would have already made you come by now. i’m gonna have to catch up.”
you don’t know what beast you’ve created until it’s too late.
your lover pulls down your shorts and lifts your oversized t-shirt so your lower half is exposed to him.
“and i was thinkin’ this was it between us. it’s never gonna be it between us.”
“you’re so dramatic.”
“are you sure you wanna be sayin’ that right now?”
you rest up on your forearms, well aware he can see the wetness between your legs. it’s your favourite sight having him there, hands like paws spreading your thighs wider. he only blows on your centre, over your clit and your body tenses at the rush of air.
you flop down onto your back, pleasure shooting up your spine, “oh shit. no, no, i take it back.”
he smirks, “yeah i thought so.”
bakugou is tender with you, prodding you with his tongue like you would a sleeping animal with a stick. though he knows what gets you moving, he just wants to draw it out.
he swipes his tongue from bottom to top, not paying too much attention to your clit which is exactly where you want him. you mewl, hips jumping to try and push him in the right direction. he just holds you down and continues.
his wet tongue circles your hole, around and around and you’re just about to beg him until he thrusts his tongue inside. your moan is loud, exactly what bakugou wanted.
“she tastes so fuckin’ good, baby.” he pulls his tongue out to see you pulsing around nothing. “fuck.”
you’re whimpering, heat blossoming throughout your body, “more ‘suki.”
bakugou slides his palm onto your stomach, his other lifting your thigh. “patience baby.”
finally, his soft lips suction around your clit. he sucks, drawing out the sweetest, honey dripping moans from you. it feels electric, body twitching and it only increases when he slides two fingers into you without warning.
you grip a clump of his hair, holding him to you restlessly.
“oh my… baby,” you whine, and you feel the vibrations of his chuckle muffled between your legs.
his tongue is swift, practised. he curls his fingers, brushing against your favourite spot and that’s enough for you to be on the edge of bursting.
then he stops, and you find two hands on your waist flipping you over onto your stomach.
“katsuki, what?! i was almost there!” you whine but your boyfriend only lightly slaps your bare ass to silence you.
“wanna feel you come ‘round my cock. wouldn’t you too?” his voice deep with control as you lay your cheek on the mattress to watch him pull his t-shirt off his body in one sweep.
you hum at the sight of his toned chest, the scars, marks and beauty spots. he wastes no time finding your ass again, two hands on each ass cheek. he roughly massages with his thumbs and you can’t help but rumble a moan, trying not to arch in the air.
“yeah, i do,” he leans over with one knee beside you and kisses your cheek, “want you ‘suki.”
“i’ll look after you, pretty.”
bakugou yanks off his joggers, one hand guiding his cock through your ass cheeks. back and forth and your moans come out like a melody in unison. he’s thick, veiny and he’s fixated on how his head pops out at every thrust.
“could fuckin’ come like this, baby,” he grunts, leaning over your body. kisses are pressed along your shoulders and back like raindrops.
it feels good, so good but not enough. “no, don’t,” you reach for his arm behind you and bakugou meets your pleading eyes. “inside, baby.”
how could he say no to you when it’s so natural to say yes? “okay, okay. fuck, i’d do anythin’ for you.”
he grips your thigh to position you for him, guiding his cock through your folds. your breath hitches when he hovers by where you need him the most. need. right now, your craving is turning into a need.
“n-need you so bad, come on,”
and he usually would have poked you for your tone but instead, your lover grins. alive and full of energy. slowly, he pushes into you, immediately feeling you tense around him. together, he grunts while you whimper.
“oh ‘suki,”
“i know baby, i know.”
you’re made for him, he fits tight and perfect and he knows if there’s a heaven on earth, it’s between your legs.
“why do you f-feel bigger?” you rock against him, your ass hitting his chest.
bakugou’s laugh comes out rough, holding your hips, “‘m gonna move, yeah?”
you hum back and he begins to thrust. he tries to be controlled to take his time but it all gets too much so quickly. the messiness of it all, your slick soaking his cock desperately, creating loud wet slaps in the air. you’re both lost in each other, you reaching up on your forearms to fuck back into him, you’re not sure who’s moaning more.
“fuck,” you screech and bakugou feels like he’s close to passing out.
“come, baby. you feel perfect, squeezing the shit outta me,”
he doesn’t even need to touch your clit before you’re shaking on him, stuffing your face in the mattress for some grounding, your fingers clenched.
“holy… fuck, ‘suki,” you mewl, “i love you.”
his orgasm rocks through him before he can take hold of it, spurting inside you. his hips keep going and instead of flinging his head back, he leans forward over you, stuffing his head in your neck. his thrusts jolt your whole body on the bed and it’s only when he’s all spent, he stops, murmuring a tired, “i l-love you too, pretty.”
it’s a few moments of trying to come back to earth together, bakugou flipping you onto your back to lay kisses over your hip bone and stomach. your hand brushes through his hair relaxingly.
when he stops, you look down at him to find him already staring at you. you move your hand to cup his cheek. his eyes are half lidded, sleepy, lips shiny and although you say you don’t need him like one would need food or water, maybe you crave him like one would a hot meal. like one would happiness and peace of mind.
“you know i love you, right?” you breathe and his eyes widen.
bakugou nods, rubbing against your palm like a puppy. he really looks anything but with his stubbled jaw and scar across his eyebrow but he’s still stupidly sweet.
“course i do. i get what you meant before, don’t worry,” he sniffs, pretty eyes looking over you. he grips your wrist tightly, kissing the palm that held his cheek, “i love you too, pretty girl.”
bakugou crawls up to you on his forearms, stopping until his face is before yours. “i’d die if you left me though.”
his face is serious, stone cold until his smile drops and you slap his arm. “katsuki! don’t say that,” he stuffs his head in your neck, his chuckle tickling.
“i’m not lyin’ though.”
you circle your arms around his neck, holding him to you tightly, “but you shouldn’t…”
“yeah, yeah, i know. if you ever wanna leave me i won’t actually. i’ll just think about it till one day i wake up and don’t.”
“you’re really not helping and i don’t wanna leave you any time soon. unless you’re still planning on being dramatic.”
“nah, i’m finished. i love you a normal amount.”
you roll your eyes playfully and he pinches your side, pulling you into a fit of giggles.
"becoming roommates won't ruin our friendship" but the two of you fall for each other immediately and can't admit it
when he drunkenly brings home a girl (trying to clear his head of the wet dreams he's having of his "best friend") she's LOUD. crying and screaming and begging. he's going to make her cum, of course, because thats whats fair, but he needs her to shut up--
"close your fucking mouth, i have a roommate,"
"it's just too good-" she's almost shouting. "your cock is so good-"
he has to force her face into the pillow for a bit of relief...
you don't say anything the next day, but that night he's woken but the sound of your headboard slamming into the wall and some guy grunting as he fucks you.
clan head!gojo, who finds it mighty hilarious—and even more adorable—that his wife gets all flustered about the servants discovering the cum-stained mess on the shikibuton kaba. sitting up and stretching, he makes grabby hands and whines for you to get your cute lil’ ass back in bed… he promises he’ll wash the linens himself, adding with a seductive wink that he’s more than happy to let you squirt all over the futon again
pixelskylines
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
romaincrisis
ellievsbear
blakekathryn
