the phone is propped on the pillows, screen glowing while katsuki’s flushed face fills one side and the camera stays pointed straight down at your wrecked body.
eijiro’s been pounding you for hours now, thick cock still buried deep, every thrust making wet, squelching noises as it pushes more of his earlier loads out of your swollen cunt. your thighs are shiny with slick and cum, the sheets beneath you soaked through, and your voice is already hoarse from all the moaning.
katsuki’s breathing hard on the other end, fist working his cock in quick, rough strokes. “look at that messy fucking pussy,” he growls, voice low and ragged. “you two have been going at it for hours and you’re still dripping everywhere. shit, i can see fucking puffy she is, eiji. keep fucking her f'me.”
eijiro’s hips snap harder, the creamy ring around his base getting thicker with every thrust. “fuuuck, baby, you’re taking it so good,” he pants, big hand gripping your thigh to spread you wider. “been letting me use this cunt all night and you’re still so tight. mmph, sweetie—yeah, just like that. good girl.”
your head lolls back, tongue hanging out, eyes glassy and unfocused. every brutal thrust knocks another broken sound out of you. “eiji—haaahh—t-too much, i can’t—kats, p-please, it’s s'deep—i’m—m'gonna—” your words dissolve into high, pathetic whimpers as he keeps fucking you through it.
“you can take it,” eijiro groans, leaning down to mouth at your neck while his pace stays relentless. “gonna make y'squirt again, pretty girl. i know you got more in you. mmph, soak my cock—fuuuckk. come on, let it out.”
katsuki’s fist blurs faster on screen. “moaning like a fuckin' slut...eiji, make her cum while i watch. fuck, i’m so hard it hurts—wish i was there pounding your hole open with him.”
eijiro’s fingers find your swollen nub and he rubs fast, messy circles. the pressure builds fast, your whole body tensing up before you explode again. clear fluid sprays out around his cock, soaking his abs and chest in hot bursts while your cunt spasms wildly. “cumming mnghh—cumming again—haaaahh—f-fuuuckkk...eiji, katsuki, p-please—!”
“that’s it, good fucking girl,” eijiro praises, still pounding through your orgasm, cock glistening. “look at you squirting all over me again. such a messy little slut for us.”
katsuki’s breathing turns into rough grunts. “g'nna cum—fuuck—making me cum with that fucking greedy little pussy.” thick ropes of cum spurt across his phone camera, blurring the view in white streaks as he groans your name.
you’re still twitching and babbling, voice cracking. “kats… eiji… love you—hahh, love when you watch me get fucked like this…”
eijiro slows but stays buried deep, kissing your temple while his hips give lazy, shallow thrusts. “we got you, sweetheart. just keep on being good for us.”
✦ 呪術廻戦 : JJK TEXTPOST . . . you ask them for pics and they deliver... NOTES : requests open..... bruh this is just some gooner shit but its ok part two
𝒲ho ? toji : ino : shoko : choso : gojo : higuruma ⓘ no tws : nsfw / suggestive : likely ooc but who gaf
notes: AFTER MONTHS the final part is finally here! honestly i was planning on not finishing this but the love you guys have shown for it and the fact that people still wanted the final part gave me motivation to finish it 😭 thank you for all the love and i hope you guys enjoy!! time to work on other projects
part 2 here!
satoru opened the door almost immediately after you knocked, his white hair sticking up from every direction, clearly showing he was a mess at the moment.
“it was open,” he spoke flatly, leaning against the doorframe as he quickly looked you up and down.
“what do you want?”
you simply stared at him, eyes filled with an emotion he couldn’t dissect as his eyes narrowed. his expression shifted from unamused to something you could label as concern.
“y/n?”
you brushed past him without saying a word, your shoulder bumping into his as you entered his apartment. he closed the door behind you, all thoughts of his previous anger pushed aside for the time being. he watched as you stopped in the middle of the room, your back facing him.
“y/n. the hell is up with you?”
you couldn’t bring yourself to answer him.
your hand was still wrapped around your phone, gojo’s messages sitting open on the screen. you’d read them so many times on the walk over to his apartment complex that the words started to blur, but they still made your stomach turn.
“y/n—“
“i talked to your brother.”
somehow a room that was already silent reached a silence that was just deafening. and it only lingered as moments passed without a response.
you slowly turned around to face him, and as you did, you saw his gaze drop to the phone in your hand before slowly lifting back to your face. for a moment, neither of you spoke.
then he let out a scoff. one that was dry and nearly mocking.
“of course you did.”
your stomach dropped, eyebrows furrowing as you tried to make sense of what such a vague yet targeted sentence could mean.
“what is that supposed to mean?”
“it means exactly what it sounds like. i told you so many fucking times not to talk to him and you still—“ he cut himself off with a sigh, rubbing his hand across his face as he let out another scoff, shaking his head.
“so what? he tell you everything then?” he asked, his eyes landing back on you. “you got what you wanted. are you happy now?”
"is that really what you think this is about?" you rebutted, your brows furrowed in irritation at his assumption.
satoru looked away, letting out another dry laugh as he dragged a hand through his hair. "what else am i supposed to think?" he muttered. "you wanted to know why i wouldn't let you near him. i wouldn't tell you, so you ran to the one fucking person i asked you not to go around." he shook his head. "guess i shouldn't be surprised."
“why do you keep acting like i even knew about him at all? like i did all this to spite you? regardless, i didn't come here because of him."
he scoffed, “because why else would you be so hung up on this shit? and you literally just told me you talked to him."
"i don’t care about him, satoru! i came here because of you."
his jaw tightened. “don’t."
"don’t what?! i’m being serious."
"i said don't."
he finally looked back at you, blue eyes carrying something you couldn't quite place. it wasn't anger anymore. if anything, it looked closer to humiliation. “i don’t need you feeling sorry for me."
your expression immediately softened. “satoru, that's not—"
"you know now." he cut you off before you could finish, the words coming out quieter this time. “you know why i never introduced you. you know why i kept shutting the conversation down every time you brought him up. you know why i let you think i was just being an asshole instead of telling you the truth.” he let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head.
"i thought if you hated me for being overprotective..." he continued, avoiding your eyes again, "...that'd be easier to deal with than watching you look at me like this."
"like what?"
"like i’m pathetic for all this shit."
the apartment fell silent. he laughed under his breath before continuing. “i mean, come on." he shrugged, forcing a smile that never reached his eyes. "my own brother."
your chest tightened.
"i couldn't even keep my own girlfriend."
"satoru."
"i wasn't gonna let it happen again."
his voice cracked so subtly that you almost missed it.
"i love you."
your eyes widened at his sudden words. the confession came so naturally that it sounded like he'd forgotten he was saying it out loud. you wondered if he had even meant to let those words leave his mouth.
"i loved you enough that i’d rather have you mad at me than risk introducing the two of you and spending every day wondering if history was about to repeat itself."
you stood there, unable to move. every argument. every excuse. every time he'd refused to answer your questions. it had never been because he didn't trust you. it was because he'd been terrified.
"satoru."
“you got your confirmation. that’s all we need to talk about—“
“jesus fucking christ, satoru! let me talk!” you suddenly snapped. his eyes widened as his jolted upwards to look at you. “i don’t care. i don’t care about any of that. i really, really don’t. the only thing i care about is why you never told me. why you thought this would somehow change how i see you,” you spoke through the slight tremors in your voice, forcing your emotions down.
“do you really think that low of me?” you asked him in a quieter voice, slightly cracking.
his eyes widened at your words, at your voice, thoughts running at a million miles an hour. you didn’t care about any of this, but you thought you were the issue this whole time?
his body moved on their own before he could even stop himself, his arms wrapping around you as he pulled your head into his chest, his hand cupping the back of your head. he could feel the tremble from your body despite how much you tried to hold it in.
“fuck—i’m sorry, baby. you know i’m not good with this shit. i don’t see you like that, never would,” he spoke, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “just… just got insecure. you don’t deserve to deal with this shit. never wanted you to get mixed up in it. that’s why i did it.”
after a long moment, he pulled back, cupping your face in his large hands as he brushed a thumb underneath your eye. he looked at you, a hint of desperation that he would never show anyone else overtaking his gaze.
“i was insecure too, satoru. you think your frat sweetheart never made me feel like shit?” you spoke quietly, your eyes on his.
his eyebrow twitched at the mention of her, his head dropping as he let out a breath. “i know, baby. i know. and i’m so fucking sorry. she doesn’t mean shit to me, swear to god. i’m telling you the truth when i say we only talk for frat shit. i can’t stand her.”
you looked at him, eyes blinking away tears as you stifled a laugh, “you shouldn’t say that about people.”
his eyes widened at your small crack, a small smile growing on his face as he pulled you in again. “yeah, well it’s true. she’s annoying as fuck. nothing you have to worry about.”
you stayed quiet for a moment, swallowing your emotions before letting out a breath against him.
“he did tell me everything…” you started, “but it only changed how i see him. i don’t see you any differently. and satoru,” you pulled back and looked up at him, “you don’t have to worry about losing me. not to him. not to anyone but yourself.”
“i love you and only you. i swear.”
he looked at you for a long moment, one where silence stretched.
“satoru—?”
he cut you off, pulling you in for a kiss that you had never experienced with him before. one filled with emotion and longing you didn’t even know he had.
pulling back, he rested his forehead against yours, his hands rested on your nape, “i love you. so fucking much,” he let go of you, his hands falling to interlock with yours. “i’ve been such a fucking idiot. and i’m sorry.”
you looked up at him, a small smile cracking, “i’m still mad…” his expression fell for a moment, “but i love you regardless.”
he let out a shaky, breathy laugh, wrapping his arms around you lazily as he swung back and forth. “yeah, you get to do that, baby. lemme make it up to you though, yeah?”
“how?”
“that matcha spot you love that just opened. how about all your drinks on me for the rest of the semester?
“so your daddy’s bank account is making it up to me?”
sukuna takes you to the beach so you can lay on your tummy! ft: pregnant reader & whipped sukuna <3
notes: i feel like sukuna would be very territorial and protective of you while you're pregnant cus now not only is he protecting his wife but also his kid?! anyway i'd love to see him chilling there too <3 i think he'd have fun at the beach... if he let himself -_-
if there was one thing you exceeded at, it'd be sending your dear husband's blood pressure soaring to astronomical heights, and you took pride in being the one person to evoke such emotions in the man most considered heartless
currently, you're walking by the shore while sukuna trudges behind you, carrying all your necessities for the day with ease underneath the hot, scorching sun. you keep one hand over the swell of your stomach while admiring the view before suddenly stopping, and sukuna drops your belongings onto the sand beside you a moment later as you deem this spot perfect aloud for him
"four bags. you brought four bags for what, woman?" he growls, pinching your cheek as you squeal. he lets go eventually, already dropping onto his knees as he begins carving into the sand with determination set in his gaze, and you lower yourself carefully and wiggle your toes in the sand right after
"thank you for bringing me here." you sigh happily, and he merely grunts in response. you watch his large hands dig skillfully into the ground as he works. it's a hot summer day, and you're nearly three quarters of the way through your pregnancy.
sukuna had found you crying, as he often did these past few months simply due to mood swings, and through a garbled confession filled with tears and whining, he learned your sadness came from the fact that you couldn't lay on your stomach anymore—and, well, that just wouldn't do.
it didn't take him long to figure out a way you could relax while still being safe for the baby, but once he did, he quite literally dressed you in a sundress himself before renting out a beach for the two of you to relax on. to say you were happy was an understatement: you were absolutely ecstatic
"the things i do for you... stupid woman. stupid, lovely woman." he mumbles irritated, and you tilt your head down to peer up at him through your sunglasses before offering him a dazzling grin. sukuna stares right back, utterly unimpressed
once he's carved out a suitable crater for you to lay your stomach in, he helps you get adjusted, relaxing only when he sees you smile
"lay with me!"
—and so he does. he lies right beside you, squinting up at the sun as he sighs loudly
"it's too fucking bright out here." he complains, throwing an arm over his eyes as you hum noncommittally, breathing in the fresh smell of the sea. you feel so comfortable you could fall asleep—and while you do spend some time drifting between dreamland and consciousness, sukuna nudges you gently about a half an hour later
"nooo," you whine, digging yourself further into the sand while you hear him snort
"you'll regret not looking up," he murmurs, and you raise your head from your arms with a huff as he gently takes hold of your chin and tilts it towards the water. your brows furrow in confusion before a gasp slips past your lips when you see a mother sea lion with her baby relaxing by the shore
"oh my god," you say, eyes round as your gaze glasses over in an instant, and sukuna watches your lips form an annoyingly adorable pout
"oh, for fuck's sake, please don't start crying again." he groans, but even when he hears the little sniffles that escape your lips a moment later, he doesn't hesitate to pull you against him. thankfully, sukuna's large enough for you to collapse against him and be supported by his arms alone entirely
"adorable... so, do you think it's a baby boy or girl?"
sukuna bristles at your question before his gaze snaps down towards you
"what?"
"i said do you think it's a girl or a boy." you repeat, poking his cheek as he gently swats away your hand. sukuna's brows furrow as if he's thinking carefully about what to say next, and you listen closely for his response before he murmurs the word quietly
"...a girl."
you hum, and his eyes narrow as he stares at you
"what about you?" he questions, and you tap your chin in thought
"i think it's a boy. i don't know why—i guess it has a bit of a boyish look. but i'm sure girl sea lions and boy ones look the same, yes?"
sukuna pales once he realizes you were in fact not talking about the baby in your stomach but rather the fat baby sea lion residing about a hundred feet from the two of you instead
"what the f—you never—what?!"
"i'm pretty sure male sea lions are bigger too, and that one looks like a pretty big baby! it must be! you should thank me, ryo. because of me, you still get to learn new things here and there." you say proudly, nuzzling back against his chest contentedly as he fights back the string of curses lying heavy on the curve of his tongue
"you're so..." he starts, words tapering off into a growl as you peer up at him through your lashes innocently
Ticci Toby who before he met you was on the slim side. Super skinny and had slight muscle from weilding weapons and being a killer. But the moment he falls for you, he starts actually working out for you not like gym rat bulging muscle but works out to be strong enough to protect you. Like your laying on his bicep while watching some movie and suddenly feel a bulge that wasn't there before. Sitting up to stare at him. "Where'd this come from." You give a small squeeze and he flexes his arm, definitely liking the pressure there. "J-just wanted to keep myself in sh-shape to protect you." His voice was soft almost, but on edge. Dating him made you essentially a target. He would lay down his life for you, your heart is his coffin.
And Jeff oh god he's so sappy. He's more lean, but has a pretty good upper build. Like when he falls for you, (definitely is obsessed immediately but pushes it down because he doesn't want to get you caught up in his sin), he feels pretty sure of his strength and masculinity despite being insecure as hell. But once you bring a daughter into this world? (Yes Jeff's a girl dad, you physically cannot change my mind.) He's working out like an actual gym rat. Everyone's worried. He needs to protect not only you but now his child. Of course this would be after the panic and genuine fear of having a child. He's not all huge and buff but he's got meat on his bones now, bigger than Toby. No one touches his girls. Not like a mafia boss man trust, he's still very much on the slim side, bony ass fingers and shit.
you storm down the hall and push his door open, cheeks heating at the sight. izuku’s spread out on his bed, your black panties wrapped around his cock as he pumps it quickly, another pair in his other hand pressed right up to his nose. you square your shoulders and walk over to his bed, snatching the pair he has pressed to his face.
“i haven’t seen these in weeks.” you hiss, fingers digging into the pink fabric.
“fuck baby.” he looks up at you with heavy eyes. “those are like my favorite pair.”
“i don’t care.” his hips buck at your tone. “you’re pathetic.”
“fuck.” he groans. “lemme have the ones you’re wearing right now.” his abs flex. “c’mon.”
“no.” your body heats at the thought.
“why don’t you sit em on my face?” a glob of pre leaks out. “i’ll eat you real good through em.” he reaches out, smirking when you let his hand grab onto your thigh.
“you’re gross.” your eyes slide down to his leaky tip and the way it’s coating your favorite panties.
“oh fuck.” his stomach flexes. “or.. lemme fuck your panties. yeahh. lay under me and i’ll fuck em real good.”
“izu.” your voice cracks.
“tell me which one you want.” he lets go of his dick, letting it bob on his stomach.
“i.. mm.” you squeeze your thighs together.
“i don’t complain when you take my stuff.” he tugs on the hem of the shirt of his you’re wearing. “c’mere.” he tugs you onto his bed and crawls over you. “i’m doing both.”
he dips between your thighs, curls tickling against your skin as he licks up the center of your panties, groaning and humping against the bed. he sucks your cotton covered clit into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue as you buck up into his face.
“fuck!” your hand flies to his hair.
“fuuuck.” he groans into you. “why’ve you been hiding this from me.” he groans, flattening his tongue and licking up your center.
“izuku.” you tug his face closer.
he’s moaning into you, savoring the taste of you and your panties on his tongue finally. his tongue swirls around your clit, humming when yo upstart to grind against his face. he keeps licking at the aching bud until your thighs are shaking around his head before he finally licks down to your pussy.
“fuuuuck baby.” he takes a long lick. “y’so wet.”
“please.” you arch your back.
he chuckles and prods his tongue into you through your panties, slowly fucking you as you gasp softly. he presses closer, his nose bumping against your clit, smiling when he feels you flutter around him. his tongue licks along the side of your panties on your slick skin and dips under them only to pull back out the next second.
“to the side!” you whine.
izuku peels your panties to the side, eyes roaming over your slick folds before he takes a long lick. he groans, slurping up your slick and sucking your clit into his mouth. his tongue flicks wildly against you and he’s relentless, not letting up until you cum on his mouth.
he pulls back, lifting up on his knees and stroking himself while he fixes your panties again. he stares down at the drenched cotton, beads of pre leaking down his shaft. he leans forward and slides his tip up the cotton and his eyes roll back.
“fuck.” he groans. “‘m taking these when we’re done.” he tugs on your panties.
“zuku im not gonna have any left if you keep taking them.” you whine, arching your back when his tips slides against your clit.
“i’ll give you a couple pairs back.” he pants, humping against you. “but these are mine now.”
each drag of his tip up the cotton sends your tummy twisting in pleasure, you tug up the shirt you’re wearing, showing him your perking nipples and he groans. he pants at you to play with them, fucking your panties faster when your hands slide up to your tits.
“lemme..” he leans over you.
his arms dig into the mattress next to your head and he hips down to suck your nipple into his mouth. his tongue licks along the swirls around it, flicking against hit before he takes the small bud between his teeth. your hips are rocking up to meet his thrusts, hands grabbing onto his shoulders and digging your nails in.
“fuck.” he groans into your hot skin.
“gonna cum again? huh?” he lifts up, searching your eyes.
“yes! izuku i- hah! it’s so- nghh!” your legs shake on either side of his waist.
your orgasm pulses through you as you cling onto him and it only takes him a couple more thursts so cost your panties with his cum. he’s panting above you, arms shaking as he presses his forehead to yours.
“i’m taking these.” he chuckles.
he crawls down your body, taking the hem of your panties between his teeth and tugging them off. you whine at him but all he does is get up and walk over to his dresser.
“hmm..” he rummages through the drawer. “here you can have these back.” he tosses you a green lacy pair.
summary: when you’re unable to sleep for the third night in a row, katsuki notices— and takes matters into his own hands.
( OR: your boyfriend fucks you to sleep. )
content: comfort / fluff + SMUT - mdni ! pro-hero!bkg. established relationship. domestic intimacy. implied insomniac!reader — can be read as simply having issues with sleep. some banter. clear consent. soft kissing. slight marking / hickeys. pet names (baby). breast play. spit (on ur clit). dedicated pussy eating. fingering. self doubt/insecurity + praise/reassurance. finger sucking. missionary to mating press. "i love you" during sex. multiple orgasms. overstimulation. cum eating. aftercare. emotional & soft smut with feelings, bkg is very much in love !!! and he doesn’t cum but he dgaf this is abt u. quite some built up before the smut lmao. wc: 6.2k.
note: thinking back to the days i would literally Not Sleep 🚬🚬 also this to me is veery soft dom bkg i like dat ^_^
masterlist. | fic based on this request ! ( thank u anon!! )
The glow of your phone was soft against the tired lines of your face. You scrolled through your feed mindlessly, dry eyes fixed onto the screen, barely lingering on anything for longer than a few seconds.
Dull frustration sat heavy under your skin.
You couldn’t sleep. Again. And it wasn't for a lack of trying.
You'd taken the medicine, made your attempts— many attempts. Setting your phone down, squeezing your eyes shut, wishing desperately for a soft, peaceful slumber to come find you.
But it never did.
So, you did what you had done the two nights before this: distracted yourself. Doomscrolled well into the hours of the early morning, when the faint, first rays of the sun filtered through your curtains and you could finally get up and not have to pretend anymore.
It was all you could do, really.
Your weighted gaze dragged over to the time in the top right corner. The bold numbers 3:24 stared back at you like a taunt. You exhaled quietly, temples throbbing.
You should stop.
You should’ve stopped hours ago.
But before you could berate yourself any further, a high-pitched squeak tore through the stillness of the room.
You clutched your phone over your chest in an instant breath caught dead in your throat as the mattress creaked. Your pulse hammered in your ears as the sheets rustled behind you, a tell-tale sign of your boyfriend shifting in his sleep.
With a grunt, Katsuki threw a heavy arm over your waist, turning so that his bare chest was pressed up against your back. The warmth from his skin seeped in through your shirt. He was all encompassing, enveloping you in his dizzying heat.
Swallowing, you prayed silently that you hadn't woken him.
He let out a sigh, the soft sound muffled into the nape of your neck.
You remained as still as you could, fighting to not squirm.
A beat passed, then another.
Your insides melted with quiet relief when he didn't stir, when the rise and fall of his lungs fell in sync with yours— his body giving no indication that he was awake.
With a quiet breath you picked up your phone again, going back to what you what had busied yourself with before he chose to get all cuddly. But when the brightness of the screen decided to assault you, your heart dropped to your stomach, that relief dying in an instant.
You grimaced at the light, fumbling to quickly get it back down to the lowest setting. It had been all the way down this whole time! You must've misclicked, or—
"You're a shitty fuckin' actor."
You could've swore your soul left your fucking body at the gravelly voice against your ear.
"What the fu—"
You didn't get a chance to finish. Katsuki was already reaching over you, guiding your hand with his to set your phone facedown on your nightstand before bringing it back over your middle, rough palm holding your hand over your stomach.
Your shoulders were wound tight as he spoke; voice tired, gruff as always. But, strangely, he sounded calm.
"Third night in a row. You're not sleeping right."
It was less of an accusation, more of a statement.
He gave it to you plainly, straight and simple. But you thought you had been discreet, the mere feeling of being caught was enough to have you opening your mouth, readying your defense, but his next words had it snapping back shut.
"And don't you fucking lie to me 'bout it."
You bit the inside of your lower lip, running over how you could possibly explain yourself without sounding pathetic.
The last few nights had been much the same: restless, spent tossing and turning.
Even when you did manage to fall asleep on the first try, you'd wake up at odd hours, left to stare at the ceiling with burning eyes, unable to quiet your mind, which was simultaneously ever-racing and absolutely empty.
When you thought about it too long, the corners of your eyes pricked. A quiet, defeated ache twisted in your chest.
You didn't want to cry, not over something so menial, so stupid. Not now, not with him watching— expecting an answer from you.
You swallowed back the lump building up in your throat, feeling the slow brush of his thumb over your knuckles.
"Not sleepy."
It came out tight, quiet. Like you were afraid that if you spoke too loud, your fragile attempt at keeping all of that built up frustration inside would fall apart.
You wanted him to give it up, let you be for once. But Katsuki Bakugou was nothing if not stubborn.
With a rumbling sigh, he rolled you onto your back, reaching an arm over you to pull at the chain of your bedside lamp.
You groaned at the sudden light washing over your bedroom, tugging your blanket up over the bottom half of your face as if it could protect you.
Annoyed, you zeroed your squinted eyes onto him, but that angry furrow between your brows weakened as you took in the image of him propped up on one elbow to look down at you.
The warm, honeyed lamp-light caught the ends of his mess of blond hair. It was unrulier than usual, sticking up in odd directions from sleep.
He was still tired— blinking slowly, as if his eyelids were too heavy. The usual harsh lines of his face looked almost uncharacteristically soft, but his gaze was weighted with something unspoken.
Guilt twisted inside your chest.
He was awake because of you. On a work night.
You looked away when he finally spoke up again.
"It's 3 AM. Don't bullshit with me."
"I'm not bullshitting, Katsuki," you reasoned, wishing you could just sink back into the mattress and not have to deal with this. "I'm… this just happens sometimes. Go back to sleep."
You tried to turn your head the other way, but he caught you by the cheek, pushed your face towards him with a firm hand to make you look at him again.
His jaw was clenched tight as he focused in on your face, took in your sunken eyes, the quiet exhaustion dampening your expression.
You knew he hated when you got like this, all dismissive and stubborn, a mirror of him.
"Don't do that shit." He bit out, his brand of harsh concern. "Not with me."
"I'm not doing anyth—"
"Don't be a fuckin' hard ass, alright? Talk."
"I can't sleep! Okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? That I can't fucking sleep? I just can't! I close my eyes, I try... but I can't! And it's—"
You came to a stop the moment you realized the increasing volume of your voice. You reeled back into yourself, embarrassed of your own outburst.
Turning from his hold, you opted to look up at the ceiling, dragging a hand down your face with a deep, shaky sigh.
"Sorry," you murmured. "This is so stupid. But seriously, I'm good."
You didn't spare him a look before turning your back to him with finality, knowing that if you met his eyes — so focused on you, attentive as ever — it would all come pouring over.
Your throat was tight as you spoke. You hoped he couldn’t tell.
"Sleep, Katsuki. It's late. Don't wanna keep you up, too."
Just when you thought he would give it up, let you deal with this miserable situation by yourself like you always did, he shifted— sat up, pulled back your blanket off of you with a single, harsh tug.
You groaned at the lost warmth, looking at him confused.
"Kats—?!"
He cut you off.
"You tried everything, huh?"
Something about the way he said it — rough and challenging — made your heart spike. He was up to something, but what? You were too exhausted to figure it out, so you offered him a weak answer.
"…Yes?"
"Right."
With one swift motion, he pushed your thighs apart. The outline of his broad shoulders rose from between your legs, thick biceps flexing as he brought your thighs around his waist.
Your legs tightened around him on instinct, bringing him closer as he hovered over you, supporting himself with two steady arms at your side.
You blinked up at him, wondering if he could feel the flustered heat radiating off of your face from being this close.
"W-What're you doing?"
"Helping."
When you continued to just blink back at him at that lackluster answer, a single brow raising slowly, he elaborated with a soft grunt.
"Said you're not sleepy, yeah?"
"… Yeah?"
"Cumming makes you sleepy." all blunt, matter of fact.
Your brows twisted.
"What?" The heat burning your cheeks crawled up to the tips of your ears as your eyes widened incredulously.
It was in his nature to say things as they were, crude and direct, but it still caught you off guard at times, especially over something like this. For someone who got flustered fairly easily, he sure had his moments.
"C'mon. Don't tell me you don't know it." His palm smoothed over your inner thigh, the rough callouses and scars familiar, warm against your soft skin. Careful in a way only you got to see. "Every time we fuck you're out like a light."
"Oh."
"Yeah." he murmured, a little smug. "Tried that?"
You shot him a look. "Obviously not, asshole."
He only chuckled softly, tilting your face up to meet his, kissing the glare right off of your face. His lips moved against yours, slow and intentional.
A soft warmth bloomed behind your ribs as you kissed him back tiredly, letting his movements guide you.
You brought careful hands to rest over his muscled chest, palms slowly sliding up, fingers brushing over the raised, jagged skin of the scar over his heart.
You wrapped your arms around his neck lazily, uncaring that they felt like lead, just wanting him closer to you as your fists curled into the soft hair at his nape.
He pulled back barely an inch, breathing a question against your lips, "You wanna try that?" before kissing you again.
Your brows creased, any semblance of an answer faded into a soft moan against him.
"C'mon, baby," he murmured, pulling back properly this time to kiss up your throat, mouth lingering against your skin.
Baby. He was calling you baby. Because he knew you loved it, knew it turned you to mush— hearing him, always so crude and unapologetic about it, refer to you so sweetly.
A shaky sigh slipped past you as he brought a large hand to the back of your neck, curving it toward him. His kisses turned to gently sucking soft marks and you shuddered, fighting a whine.
"Quit bein' difficult." he huffed, breathe hot against you. "Lemme take care of it."
He brought his face back to watch you like a hound, waiting for your confirmation.
Amidst catching your breath, you contemplated, pursing your lips in thought.
"I… I mean, it doesn't hurt to try?"
It was true, you hadn't tried this 'method' to sleep and part of you was curious whether it would work or not.
But, again, it was a work night, so despite your desperation and exhaustion, you knew that this whole ordeal would get in the way of and the strict schedule Katsuki kept to optimize his health and performance.
He ate well, took part in rigid physical training; mandatory for the powerhouse of a man that stood at number 5 in the pro-hero rankings.
Like clockwork, he woke up at 6 AM, went out there and worked himself to the bone, put his body on the line, and unless the circumstances were dire (either he couldn’t sleep because of dreams of the past or he had missions that demanded later hours) he turned into bed at 8 PM sharp without fail.
From all the years of knowing, you knew that Katsuki was particular about his habits.
But amidst your guilt, you were forgetting that he was also particular about you.
You had wormed into his heart, became something of an exception for him in many regards. But you couldn't see that now, not with worry and weariness eating away inside you.
Your half-lidded eyes searched his, a soft crease forming between your brows as you looked up at him.
"... Do you want to, though? I don't wanna keep you up, or… or like make you do thi—"
He cut you off with a scoff, cocking his head in disbelief as if that was possibly the stupidest thing you could have said to him.
"Don't be an idiot, alright?" he pushed closer, nose brushing yours. "If that's the shit you're worryin' about, don't."
His eyes darted down to your mouth, watching as you chewed on your bottom lip, voice lower; softer.
"Always fuckin' 'want to'."
You took in his words, blinking back the small sting in the corners of your eyes.
Katsuki didn't do pity, never did anything he didn't want to. And right now, he had nothing but undeniable want written all over his face.
There was something ravenous behind those irises, that fiery red sharp and determined in a way that had your stomach flipping.
"Okay," you decided with a slow nod, a small smile settling over your face. "We can try."
A self-satisfied smirk stretched across his face before he nodded back, eyes fluttering shut as he leaned down to peck your lips. His hands found your waist, sliding up your sides as he deepened the kiss.
You gasped slightly as they wandered up under your shirt, rough hands smoothing over the curve of your breasts, feeling the weight of them in his palms— giving them a firm, testing squeeze.
He kept your mouth parted with his, slipping his tongue against yours in a careful rhythm.
You made a muffled sound against his mouth when his thumbs brushed over your nipples, back arching just enough to tell him you wanted more.
Katsuki pulled back, the small string of saliva between your lips breaking as he began to lift up the fabric of your shirt.
"Arms up."
You complied, raising your arms over your head.
Those blazing eyes were narrowed, a subtle furrow forming between his brows— you always thought he looked gorgeous when he was focused, and being the center of that unwavering attention always had your mind spinning.
With a final tug, he pulled your shirt off, watching as your nipples hardened, exposed to the chill of your room.
His eyes locked with yours as he leaned down, pressed a wet kiss to your chest.
Your legs wrapped tighter around his waist as he cupped both your breasts with his hands, took his time pecking around the soft flesh. It was only when you huffed quietly that he chuckled, giving you a long, slow lick over your nipple.
He ran his thumb back and forth over the other, pinching the taut peak between his index and thumb as he sucked one into his mouth, the subtle scrape of his teeth drawing out a small, strangled sound from you as he nipped at your chest.
Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, keeping him in place.
An involuntary whine slipped past you when he pulled back from your chest with a soft pop, his hot mouth switching to the other, the whole process repeating until you were breathless— gasping incoherent strings of what vaguely sounded like his name, nails raking down the expanse of his broad upper back.
He drew back at last, taking in the picture of you; soft lips parted as you panted, a glistening sheen over your chest, dazed eyes blinking up at him— silently asking for more as they darted between his face and the obvious clothed bulge pressing against your core.
You thought he’d get straight to it, tug down his boxers and give you what he knew you wanted, but it seemed he had a different idea.
Pulling back between your legs, he lowered himself to your heat slowly, peppering sloppy kisses from your calf down to your inner thighs. When he finally pressed his lips right over your clothed clit, you groaned softly, head sinking back into your pillow.
His tongue peeked out to give your clit a little lick over your panties; warm and slow and wet.
You whimpered, thighs instinctively tightening around his head as you sighed out his name, wanting to melt.
"Katsuki…"
"You're always so pretty, y'know that?" he breathed out before kissing you over the cotton again, watching the damp spot grow darker under the soft amber lamp-light. "Shit drives me fucking crazy."
You drew in a shaky breath, ears burning.
You weren't exactly what you'd call pretty, right now. Your hair was very likely a mess, eyes red and heavy. And up until he had taken it off, all you had on was an old oversized shirt that had seen better days. Your panties weren’t much better; plain, save for the small bow at the center.
But the way he said it still made your heart flutter— as if, despite all of that, you were pretty to him.
You couldn’t gauge how your body looked, what he could see of you, and you were too tired to try and figure it out. But the uncertainty was enough to have you breathing out a small scoff.
"Don't just say that."
The corner of his lip curled back like you had just offended him to the highest degree.
"Y'know I never just say shit." he barked back.
Maybe you had, in a way. Because he really, really didn't. He never said anything he didn't mean when it mattered, especially not to you.
You bit your lip as his finger hooked under the hem of your underwear, his eyes asking you a silent question.
You nodded slowly, lifting your hips for him. He moved swiftly, slipping off the last piece of fabric shielding you from him.
He stared down at your bare heat shamelessly. Drank in how your wetness glistened under the soft light, the way your legs twitched slightly as if you were fighting the instinct to close them at his intense, unwavering gaze.
He traced a line down your slit with just a finger, relishing the small sound that drew out of you. His gaze met yours as he parted your folds with two fingers and leaned down, mouth hovering right over your pulsing core.
You watched with shallow breaths, eyes locked with his as he gathered spit in his mouth, letting a hot glob drop slowly onto your pussy. You groaned when he dragged the flat of his tongue over your clit, mixing it with your arousal.
He moaned into you, "Taste so fuckin' good…"
His tongue drew circles around your sensitive nub; so diligent, so thorough.
Like with everything, he gave it his all, didn't quit until he was satisfied. His method tonight was torturous, a slow pace that dragged out each sensation almost unbearably to ease you into that blissed out haze that'd surely knock you out.
He'd barely gotten started, and you were already panting, mind slowly slipping into that pleasure-drunk state.
Your fists curled around the sheets when he sucked your clit softly just to hear your breathy whines, smiling against you as you keened.
Katsuki Bakugou was known for his mouth. Snappy, explosive, unforgiving. It was what had drawn you to him in the first place, how he never held back.
But this mouth was the one only you got to know. Still relentless, unyielding, just a little mean— but it felt like devotion when he lapped at your leaking mess, fingers digging into your plush thighs to keep you in place as you squirmed.
You reached a hand down, let your fingers card through his soft hair before giving it a small tug. That earned you a groan, the deep rumble muffled against your dripping heat.
He licked a long stripe up your slit— wet, sloppy. Piercing eyes watching your face as he found your entrance, fucked you with his tongue before replacing it with two thick fingers, gathering your wetness before slowly pushing them in.
You groaned as he worked you up to the stretch, pushed them in knuckle deep.
Savoring the stuttering rise and fall of your chest, he slowly started to pump them in and out. Your eyes fluttered shut, head sinking back into your pillow as his fingers filled you up, curling against that familiar spot— a slow, deep pleasure building each time he hit it just right.
You wanted to cave, melt, maybe sob.
You were so close— you could feel it… just a little more…
But… there was this feeling sitting heavy in your chest, winding up tight around your heart.
You made a noticeable attempt to keep your sounds down as your mind began to race again, your focus drifting away from him as a question resounded your head— you should've already finished by now, right?
Katsuki was doing everything right, touching you perfectly, like he always did. He should be done dealing with you. But you hadn't finished yet, he was still going at it.
Your lower lip trembled. Maybe you were too tired, too caught up in your own exhaustion to cum. Whatever it was, something was holding you back. And If you really couldn't finish, then this would all be pointless, wouldn't it? You'd have wasted both of your time for nothing.
Before the worry could fully cloud your head, Katsuki gave your thigh a firm pat.
You looked down with a start; eyes half-lidded, unfocused.
"There you are." He muttered. "Eyes on me, got it? Hell’s the matter?"
Even when he was concerned, his brashness clung to him.
His care was rough around the edges, imperfect, but it was all his intent. He wanted to be careful with you, you could see it in his eyes, how they were just focused and just soft enough for you to detect.
Even if he didn't know exactly how to do it just right, he tried. Because you mattered. You meant something to him.
He lifted his face just enough for you to know you had his attention, stilled his movements and gave your thigh a small squeeze, a silent prompt to tell him what was wrong.
You couldn't look away if you wanted to, even as you felt your eyes sting— not when he was looking at you like that.
You gnawed at your bottom lip; embarrassed, ashamed.
"I can't."
He raised a brow. "Can't what?"
You let out an exasperated breath.
"Can't… can’t cum. I can't, feel like— I dunno, something's wrong with me, Katsuki, I'm—"
"Get outta your head." he cut off your babbling sharply. You whimpered when he started moving his fingers again, tongue coming down to drag over your clit at the same time. "Nothing's fuckin' wrong with you. I know you can."
His unshaken confidence in you was enough to draw out a soft groan, but his mouth and fingers working in tandem to build up that tightening warmth inside you again was what had your back arching off the bed, eyes screwing shut as the pressure above your belly wound tighter and tighter.
That heaviness in your shoulders slowly melted as he picked up the pace, the worry and doubt wrapped tight in your chest loosened and faded steadily, the sweet promise of eventual euphoria taking over your senses.
Quick, shallow breaths escaped your lungs as you brokenly mumbled his name, bucking your hips against his mouth, squeezing around his head with your legs. Your hands found his hair again, pulling without a care as he nearly doubled his efforts.
With a choked out sob, you finally came, the fingers curled in his hair tightening just a bit more one last time before going lax.
You could feel him smiling against your core as you came down; proud, a little cocky, but above all, happy to be lost in the taste of you.
He kissed you through it, mouth unrelenting against your pussy even as your thighs spasmed and trembled, working you down from your orgasm.
With a final kiss over your clit, he finally pulled back, wiping the mixture of his saliva and your slick off the bottom half of his face lazily, like he didn't actually care whether it was there or not.
Shifting, he hovered over you, crimson eyes locking with yours, reading you silently with the same rapt attention he had out on the battlefield.
A light sheen of sweat was cast over his muscled arms at your sides, the highs of his cheeks were flushed a soft pink, spikes of blond hanging messily over his forehead.
"Still with me?"
His voice was gravelly, a smoky rasp. Just a little breathless, but the satisfaction in his eyes told you he'd have it no other way.
You attempted a response, still panting heavily.
"Mhm…"
"Not an answer, baby."
"…Yes. Thank you."
He leaned down to kiss you, you moaned softly at the taste of yourself off of his lips.
Pulling back, he trained his serious eyes on yours. "Don't thank me for that shit."
"Sorry."
"Don't apologize either." You managed a snort at how impossible he was being, but he continued. "Feelin' sleepy?"
You hummed. "Yeah. A little."
He blinked once, scanning your face. Then grunted. "Not good enough."
"Katsuki, it's okay, you've done enou—"
"I told you, 'm gonna take care of it. Yeah?"
With his hands on the underside of your thighs, he pulled your legs around his waist, his hardened cock pressing over your still-drooling pussy, hot and heavy despite the single layer of fabric between you both.
Your heart picked up again; voice small, airy.
"Yeah…"
"Gonna let me, right?"
You whined. "But I just—"
"I know," he shushed you, slowly moving his hips, grinding himself against you agonizingly. "You can gimme another."
"Mh…”
Your lips pursed, brows pinched.
It could feel nice. It would feel nice.
You had warmed up to the idea, hips lifting just slightly to push against him as he moved, a quiet, nearly imperceptible motion.
He noticed, like he always did, but still, he wanted to draw it out of you.
"C'mon, gotta say it." his voice was a half-tease, low and coaxing, yet that mocking undertone never left. "Can only do it if you say it."
You groaned, embarrassed heat crawling up your neck.
He always did this—made you say it out loud, full-well knowing how it embarrassed you.
It was as though he lived to see you get heated, got something out of watching your lips curl and twitch in your attempts to fight your own discomposure.
"Can give you 'nother," you practically huffed out. "Jus' fuck me, please. Wanna feel you."
He smiled down at you, pleased with himself, and before you could even think to roll your eyes at that smug expression, he began to shuffle out of his boxers, freeing his aching cock.
He brought it to rest right over your pussy as he settled between your legs.
His eyes said look, and you did, took in his thick length, the angry flush of his leaking head, the precum dripping onto your navel.
He wanted you to see just how deep he would go, wanted you to really take it in.
You felt yourself get wetter, feeling empty at just the sight— he reached just below your belly button.
"You ready?"
Slowly, he dragged his tip between your folds. You let out a small, choked sound, nodding as your hips involuntarily bucked up to chase more.
"Uh huh. Please, please."
Katsuki’s abs tensed as he finally positioned himself just right, pushing into your tight warmth with gritted teeth, biting back the moan threatening to slip past.
He took his sweet time, going inch by agonizing inch, all the while your chest heaved as he stretched you out, filled the emptiness that had you aching.
When he finally bottomed out, panting, you clenched around him, whimpering slightly.
He let out a guttural sound; something low, ragged, already wrecked.
"Don't…" he breathed, voice cracking slightly. "Don't fuckin' do that."
"Sorry…"
"Told you not to do that either."
With a shaky breath, he began to move. Careful rolls of his hips, a hand splayed over your stomach as he eased himself in deep.
You stuttered out his name as that same hand moved lower, stopping right where your bodies met, the pad of his thumb slowly rubbing your clit.
His eyes fluttered as he watched your head fall back against your pillow, panting as he eased into a languid rhythm, angling his hips with each thrust in search of that spot.
When he found it, you keened, toes curling, lips parting as you let out a moan.
"Katsuki…" you dragged out the end of his name, practically whining.
He only grunted, something like a strangled whimper managing to slip past his gritted teeth. "Yeah, I know, I fuckin' know…"
He continued to thrust slowly, pull all the way back out before pushing back in, intense scarlet eyes watching your face twist upon each intrusion.
You didn't notice his thumb had been brushing the plush of your lower lip before he tapped it.
"Open."
That was all he said. He knew he didn't need much for you to listen. You looked down at his hand, then back up, parting your lips on command, the pink of your tongue peaking out on instinct.
"There we go…" He murmured, slipping his index and middle finger into your waiting mouth slowly.
The weight of his thick digits settled over your tongue and you groaned, sucking gently.
"You like that?" He asked, watching your mouth work around his fingers softly, voice low.
He already knew you liked it, knew that it lulled you into a fuzzy, brainless haze. But he loved to see you nod back at him; that pliant, sweet look in your half-lidded eyes as you offered him soft 'mhm' around his fingers.
He fought the moan crawling up his throat, instead letting out a tight a chuckle.
"Yeah, I know you do."
When he pulled his fingers back, you whimpered, but didn't get to dwell on it for long.
He moved to cage you down, supporting himself by the forearms, groaning into your ear as he bucked his hips deeper into you, pace noticeably faster.
You threw your head back. It was so good, perfect even. But you still wanted to feel more of him.
"Closer…" You asked, a quiet whine behind your words. "Closer, please, baby. Need you closer, Katsuki…"
Katsuki loved missionary, you knew this. He loved that it meant he could get close, actually see you— watch as your face twisted from being filled by him.
But on nights when close wasn't close enough, he folded you in half, pressed himself impossibly deeper, brought you closer than you thought you could ever feel.
The second he realized what you were asking for, he pushed the backs of your thighs, pressed your knees up by your head.
You hooked your arms around his neck, he kissed the the hinge of your jaw, breathing desperate words against your neck.
“Fuck, I love you.”
You bit back a groan, feeling him trail sloppy kisses down to your collarbone.
“Y’know that, right?”
You were shaking, letting out breathy moans as he began to suck soft marks into your skin, lost in the feeling— the taste— of you.
Your hands slid to hold the back of his neck, pulling him back carefully. Your nose bumped his as you held his face, felt the sharp curve of his jaw in your palms.
You pulled a hand back to find one of his by your head, you laced your fingers with his, gave his hand a soft squeeze before softly pecking his lips.
"I love you," you murmured the words against his mouth before pulling him back feverishly, moaning into the kiss. "I love you so much."
He picked up his pace at those words, fucking into you desperately, "Can't believe you thought I didn't wanna do this shit…" He panted out.
"Always fuckin' want you, don't y'get it?" his voice was already deep. but now— rough from sleep and want, the rasp made you impossibly wetter.
The sound of your creaking bed and the soft slap of skin against skin faded into the background as he leaned down to kiss you, all messy and raw.
"Tell me you get it." the words heaved out of him, hot and breathy, his lidded eyes met yours, the blistering need behind them setting your skin ablaze.
"I get it," you managed, tugging him closer, holding him against your chest. "I get it, Katsuki, please—"
He groaned by your ear, "Fuck, I know. I got you…"
Suddenly, nothing else seemed to matter. Everything that had weighed on your heart— the frustration, the doubt, the unsureness in yourself. it dissolved to nothingness in the back of your mind— because Katsuki Bakugou loved you. You loved him.
You could feel it all around you; he was everywhere, everything. And part of you felt that was all you might ever need.
With a broken sound, you came, burying into the crook of his neck.
He breathed with you for a moment, held you close, heated sweat-slicked skin against yours. He pulled out carefully, gritting his teeth to bite back a groan.
You were caught off guard when he hooked your thighs over his shoulders, leaned down to lap up your spend— his grip was a vice, absolutely not letting go of you— his fervent mouth moving against your sensitive heat to stimulate you past what you thought was bliss.
You nudged at his face half-heartedly, too tired to even whine; shallow, broken sobs heaved out of you as your thighs twitching around his head.
It was too much, you told him as much. At least, you tried to. You weren't sure if he could make anything out of your nonsensical babbling between whimpers, but you were certain he didn't really care.
When your hands found his hair, you twisted the blond tufts in your fists, letting out a final cry as he pushed you over the edge one last time.
He lifted his head back, lingering for a beat, careful eyes taking you in. Your eyes were shut, relishing the aftershock of your own high as your lungs raced to catch onto air, but more importantly: you were completely fucked out.
With a small kiss to your inner thigh, he got up.
"Where're you going…?” you managed between breaths, feeling his presence on your bed go missing, eyes opening just enough to peek at him.
“Clean underwear. Water."
"Oh."
"Mhm."
You felt like you might pass out in the best way possible. Your eyes were so droopy, but you tried your best to keep them open.
You traced the line of Katsuki's back as he shuffled through your drawers. Something soft and warm branched out from behind your sternum, spread through your body.
Suddenly, you wanted nothing more than to hold him in your arms. Feel his body curve against yours.
He uncapped a bottle of water from your dresser and held it out for you, watching intently as you sat up shakily and took careful sips.
You handed it back to him, wiping at your mouth as he moved back onto your bed, tugging on a clean pair of underwear over your legs.
"You shoulda kept goin' Katsuki…" You tried to sound harsh, scolding. But it came out softer than you wanted. "You didn't… y'know…"
He pulled the blanket over your body and his quietly, settling at your side. You watched as he laid his head to rest on his pillow, taking in the familiar lines of his face.
"Don't care." He flicked your forehead. "Think too much and I might have to fuck you to sleep again."
Your lower lip jutted at that, a small flush settling over your face.
Reaching an arm out, you drew him closer to you. Your heart swelled at the familiarity of his warmth, that longing in you satiated momentarily at the feeling.
Your hand found his jaw, thumb brushing over the unscarred side of his face. You always loved that scar on his right cheek, thought it made him look handsome.
A small smile touched your face as you leaned in to press your lips over it, even though his other cheek was much easier to kiss. You liked to do that whenever you got the chance.
"Hey, Katsuki?" You hummed, brushing some of his hair back.
"What?"
Fondness curled inside your chest at his voice; it came quick because it was soft. Because he had softened himself, for you.
"Thank you."
He blinked back at you before, "Tch." then leaning forward to peck your lips.
"Told you to stop doin' that."
You could only chuckle, letting his large hand find the back of your head, pull you down to cradle you against the warm, solid planes of his chest.
"Sleep."
You yawned, smiling as you pressed your cheek closer against his skin.
"I'll make it up in the morning, 'kay?" You mumbled, the thrum of his heart easing your limbs, his strong arms curled around you tighter. "Promise."
Katsuki snorted softly, running a hand up and down your back, careful and soothing as he tucked you under his chin, adjusting the blanket around you to make sure you were properly warm.
"'M sure you will."
masterlist ★ taglist form ★ want to request?
may blabs: hellooo guys
second smut we up 😈 im still learning how to write ts so this was kiiinda stressful… (overthought a Lot) … but it ok we made it 🥹
im not even a petname bkg truther really so idk why i wrote that in but i did. playing with him like he’s my doll lalala
love me some acts of service solution oriented katsuki who’s soft in his own way ^_^ and i like emotions so this was quite fun to write! soft intimate smut… sighs dreamily
bkg not getting to nut lowk a recurring pattern now tho im dead 😭 (will he ever get to bust? stay tuned)
(btw title is from the marías song !!! #peak)
★ IMPORTANT — the amazing art in the header is not mine! unfortunately, i was not able to find the artist to give adequate credit, so this is my disclaimer !! all i did was edit the coloring.
husband!satoru gets a little too possessive of you on your beach vacation. . .
the beach had been your idea.
you wanted a relaxing day together— sunshine, fresh air, finally swimming in the cold ocean water. somehow, though, the moment you’d stepped out of the changing room wearing your bikini, the entire plan had fallen apart.
or rather, satoru had.
you barely make it to your spot on the sand you’ve been eyeing before he plants himself directly in front of your beach chair.
at first, you think nothing of it. he’s always clingy, always finding excuses to stay close. but after several minutes pass and he still hasn’t moved, you start narrowing your eyes.
“what are you doing?” you ask.
“hm?”
“why are you standing there?”
he shrugs, taking another sip of his drink. “just hanging out.”
“well, hang out without blocking my view!”
“don’t wanna.”
you look at him expectantly, thinking he’ll finally move, but he just smiles innocently behind his sunglasses.
seems that he knows exactly what he’s doing.
every time you try adjusting your chair, he somehow adjusts his positioning too. every time you glance toward the water, his massive frame ends up between you and the rest of the beach.
it turns ridiculous enough that you finally sit up and cross your arms.
“okay. what’s wrong with you?”
“nothing’s wrong.”
“satoru.”
he lets out a dramatic sigh before lowering himself onto the edge of your beach chair. his arm immediately wraps around your waist, pulling you closer against his side.
“you look too good.”
you raise an eyebrow. “what..?”
“you heard me.”
his jaw tightens slightly as his gaze drifts away, and toward the crowded shoreline. there are people everywhere, couples, groups of friends. just doing completely normal beach activity.
satoru, however, looks threatened by all of it.
“i was excited to bring you here,” he admits. “thought it’d be nice.”
“and?”
“and then you walked out wearing that.”
you let out a laugh. “it’s just a bikini..?
“i know.”
“that’s what most women wear at beach, no?”
“mhm,” he pouts, and his expression remains the same.
normally, satoru loves showing you off. he’ll throw an arm around your shoulder in public, kiss your cheek randomly, introduce you as his wife every chance he gets. he’s never been subtle about how proud he is to have you.
apparently, though, this situation has created some kind of internal conflict.
because on one hand, he clearly wants everyone to know just how pretty his wife is. on the other hand, he seems seconds away from carrying you back inside the hotel and locking every door.
“you’re jealous of.. strangers?”
“’m not jealous.”
his arm tightens around your waist as another group of people walks by. none of them are paying attention to either of you, but satoru tracks them anyway before immediately shifting closer.
you can practically feel the possessiveness radiating off him.
“you know,” you say, smiling, “if you’re that bothered, maybe you stop staring.”
he looks at you like you’ve said something absurd.
“how am i supposed to stop staring?”
he reaches up, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
“seriously…” his voice softens. “i can’t.”
the warmth of the sun, the sound of the waves, the distant chatter around you— it all fades into the background beneath the way he’s looking at you.
like you’re still the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
then his gaze flickers past you again, and his eyes narrow. “that guy looked over here.”
“toru!” you groan immediately. “you don’t even know if he was looking at me.”
before you can argue further, he stands up, grabs the beach umbrella beside your chair, and drags it several feet across the sand.
directly in front of you, and blocking your view of half the beach.
your mouth falls open. “okay. enough!”
“what?” he says innocently.
“move it.”
“nuh-uh.”
he squeezes back onto your chair, completely satisfied with himself as he throws an arm around your shoulders.
“now nobody can look.”
“seriously..?”
“as serious as can be,” he says, pulling you closer, then moving you onto his lap, “i feel way better.”
you bury your face in his shoulder to hide your giggles, and he takes the opportunity to press his lips against the top of your head.
after all, he still got exactly what he wants.
a beautiful beach, a sunny day..
and his wife all to himself.
wrote this after getting home from my beach trip >:) ugh i miss it already what is this unbearable heat rn..
i love ur writing so much uGhhh😩 but just something abt the way u write izuku got me punching the wall i love the way u write bkg AS WELL BUT JUST ive never read anything that personalizes deku the way you do IT MAKES ME SO FERAL just him getting so comfortable with u that u start to see his slightly cocky side cause he knows he can just walk around the house shirtless and he’d get u swooning and shit ARF ARAGAHRRARAARRWRW but no u being the feminist u are, u put him in his place U WALK AROUND SHIRTLESS, U GET HIM SWOONING u humble this man truly he cant catch a break around u
my izuku fics??? thank u!! i don’t write him much but i really enjoy it because he’s so different to bkg.
also i can imagine him getting a lil cocky when he’s older because he’s got enough female attention so he knows he’s not ugly. girls dig his scars and muscles and his jaw is sharp and his freckles are cute. he balances the sweet and sexy perfectly. but he still gets knocked off his feet with a compliment from a pretty girl.
if he’s walking around shirtless, on his phone leaning against the wall, washing the dishes, putting clothes in the washing machine, you’re wolf whistling or making an appreciative sound. “you’re so sexy ‘zu.” and he should expect it because he’s walking around shirtless, shit he’s walking around shirtless on purpose to get a reaction from you but a light blush lights his face.
“stop sexualising me,” he tries to be serious but the cutest smile slips through the cracks, “but thank you sunshine.”
and then if you walk around shirtless or butt naked, he is completely lost with it. like you being naked in the bedroom where it’s expected is a lot for him to handle. then he gets so overwhelmed his hands end up squeezing at your sides, ass, any bit of skin he can handle. but when you’re just naked during the day? being so domestic, fluffing your pillows, putting your bedsheet on your mattress or cleaning kitchen countertops. izuku is shocked. eyes flicking back and forth like he’s witnessing something he shouldn’t see.
you know how he gets so just the sight of him in the doorway has you leaving your cleaning rag on the counter beckoning him over with a curl of your palm. as you lean across the counter your breasts push together and youre even lifting yourself over slightly when he gets closer to kiss his cheek. at least you’ve got your panties on.
“hey baby.”
“w-where’s your clothes?”
“probably in my room. got some in my drawers and wardrobe,” your grin is dangerous and izuku knows it, “why? do you want me to get some?”
and izuku shakes his head so quickly he thinks he’s pulled a muscle in his neck, “no, no. i do want to lay you over the island though. if you’d like that?”
he’s so handsy, massive hand reaching over to your collarbones and sliding up to grip your neck. you soften in his arms like goo, eyes fluttering but he’s too careful to do anything about it before you’ve agreed. izuku still is at the point where he doesn’t believe your body is reacting to him, instead thinking if anybody touched you in the ways you like you’d react like this also. you’re not sure how powerful he’d become when he realises it’s only him that gets you worked up so quickly.
↠ when you’ve hung out with someone for majority of your life, stuff starts to linger. and sometimes, those lingering touches from lingering friends can lead to things, that feel like they should be taken to the grave, being expressed. ↞
✰ status :: complete ✰
✰ pairing :: tetsuro kuroo
.ᐟ cws :: crackfic, vulgar language, sex jokes, ooc, modern au, time skip, suggestive, kys jokes, emotionally stunted adults, angst/comfort, substance abuse, yearning, slight slow burn, toxic relationship (if u squint)
he has had many experiences since he turned 18 and he’s now in his late twenties. safe to say he knew every kink, tried all types of weird shit and was a masterful makeout partner. (if he said so himself!)
but here you are perched up nicely, straddling his lap, your hands pulling desperately at the little hairs that gained length from his overgrown undercut.
his large hands palming your ass as you grinded down on him slowly, your mouth moving in sync with his, your faces twisting constantly and your tongue fighting for dominance so hard you smeared a bit of drool on the side of his mouth.
well not like he cared.
he was used to this, used to your rough bites, soft whimpers and tough grip as his mouth worked on you.
so when you trailed off from his lips, your light kisses going down his jaw, turning to bites in between on his neck. he didn’t think much of it, baring the long column to you with a huff like feeding a vampire its next meal.
his hands never stopping their flexing on your thighs, your ass anywhere he could reach as you huffed and sucked on him possessively.
his cock strained hard against his shorts, waiting to get ruined as he nudged you over and over again, getting lost on the sauce even didn’t notice that your kisses started trailing back up again.
until he felt it.
the soft tug of your teeth at the bottom of his earlobe before you pressed a chaste kiss on the spot. mouthing up the column of his now reddening ear, pulling his helix before you pulled back just enough to trace the outside of his ear with your tongue.
you followed the shape, your teeth coming out and grazing on his shell just as you licked the slight dip at the inside feeling him clutch at your body and fucking shiver.
he knew he was done for when he felt your hands repeatedly push his face away as it drifted towards your own and he couldn’t slow down his heaving chest or the soft pants that escaped.
now here he was ear wet, hot and pulsing, it didn’t make it much better he could hear your soft pleasurable sighs before your hands came up and you whimpered almost pathetically in between your mouthing as you left one last lick on his ear before you moved back to his jaw, “mm…satoru.”
he couldn’t even tell you what happened next, your mouth finding his own as he let out the most desperate moan he’s ever heard from himself before you pulled away from him with a pop.
“you just came untouched?”
after that fucking kiss of course he did.
yorikae
** check if their ears are clean b4 doing this btw
— “do i really need to be shirtless for this?” hajime asks gruffly, sitting neatly on your dorm floor as you write on a piece of tape, godzilla t-shirt tossed unceremoniously on your bed.
your anatomy exam is coming up, and you’ve been studying like your career depends on it (spoiler alert: it does), but you’ve been going batshit crazy just staring at your notes. so what better way to get off the books than to hang out with your boyfriend?
“yes,” you reply, placing ‘pectoralis major’ on his chest. “it wouldn’t work the same if you had a shirt on. active recall, visual learning, and such.” “right,” he mutters, brow furrowed as he watches you. “so…?” “so, flex your deltoid,” you demand. “c’mon, haji. this is important.” he flexes his shoulder obediently, looking away as you stick another label on his body.
you’re kind of surprised hajime agreed to this in the first place; though honestly, you really didn’t give him much of an explanation, simply texting him, “come to my dorm @ 10pm,” with no further instructions. you laughed when he called at 9:42 saying he was at the building, having to hold it in as you led your bright-eyed boyfriend into your room.
“you will be to blame if i don’t pass this,” you tell him, revelling in the slight twitch of his body as you slide a finger over his skin to pat down the adhesive. “right. can’t have that,” he says under his breath. you snicker. despite his reluctance, he’s not angry. maybe just disappointed. you’re not worried, though. he’d get what he came for soon enough.
sneaking a glance at him, you quickly scribble ‘teres minor’ on another scrap of tape. hajime’s ears are bright red, but his bottom lip is pursed up and his jaw is tight. tell-tale signs of his enjoyment.
“i know you’re a little embarrassed, but i need you to lift your arm up for me,” you tell him sweetly, tape hanging from your fingertips. hajime lets out a flustered grumble in reply, dim light highlighting hard planes of muscle as he accedes.
“it’s kind of itchy,” he says, after a moment. “well, it’s tape,” you answer matter-of-factly, pasting ‘frontalis’ on his forehead, then look at him doubtfully. “also, you need to stop scowling. you look cute when you’re not scowling.” “‘m not scowling,” hajime says under his breath, but his eyebrows relax immediately. you bite the inside of your cheek. cute.
another couple minutes pass by as you continue to stick labels on him, humming a tune while you treat your poor boyfriend like a whiteboard.
“...how long will this take?” hajime asks, stiffly, two pieces of tape hanging off the hollows of his cheekbones. you stretch out, making a big show of checking the clock on the wall. it’s almost midnight. “i’m basically done,” you reply. “i’m not going over the accessory muscles.”
hajime tilts his head, narrowing his eyes knowingly at you. “yeah, just wanna know, so i’m not peeling gemellus inferior out of my butt tomorrow,” he remarks wryly. you mirror his expression, enthused. “hah. i forgot you know this already.”
hajime pinches your inner thigh playfully. it doesn’t hurt—he could never hurt you—but you yelp anyway, more tickled than anything. “hey, i’m pretty smart, you know,” he reminds you, smoothing over the subtle sting with a callused thumb.
you scoot over towards him, running your hand down the label reading ‘rectus femoris.’ “i know you’re pretty smart,” you say, gaze locked on his, “otherwise i wouldn’t allow you to be sitting shirtless on my floor.” you pull, and the screech of tape being taken off skin is the only sound in the room for a second.
the sudden dilation of his pupils makes you laugh through your nose. “oh, that’s all,” hajime says lightly, body hot under your touch. “because i’m smart.” “and muscular,” you add, leaning over him as he sits back on his forearms, watching you intently. “mm, that’s part of it?” he asks, voice just breathless enough to make your stomach tighten.
“yeah,” you murmur, hooking a fingernail under ‘external oblique.’ your eyes drop to his bare chest, then drag back up to his face as you smile. “do you take a makeout session as gratuity for your model work?”
hajime swallows, his jaw fluttering. a blush blooms over his cheeks and he rolls his eyes. “that’s what i thought you called me here for,” he mumbles, warm hand coming up to rest on the curve of your lower back as you giggle. “c’mere.”
he peppers your face with soft kisses, leaving wet marks. your laughter fills the small room when you feel something sticky on your cheek.
“haji, i can’t take you serious with that stuff on your face!” “take it off, then!”
hello. folks. birfday post 4 me and him cuz we junebugs like dat
Iwaizumi’s nose is bleeding, his hands bruising an angry shade of red.
He doesn’t remember what happened, not really at least.
One second, the bar was loud and lively, overcrowded and sticky with spilled drinks.
The next, he’d heard an all too aggressive, “You don’t have to be such a bitch.”
The rest is a blur.
He vaguely remembers Makki yanking him off some poor bloody heap on the floor.
Oikawa shouting something that sounded both panicked and furious as he dragged him toward the exit.
Matsukawa laughing in that disbelieving, holy shit, kind of way while ushering you out of the room before you could see the worst of it.
And before his brain can really catch up, the feeling of the brisk night air hitting his face hard enough to make him realize his nose was bleeding.
Now you’re all halfway down the block, the neon lights and lively noise of the bar fading far behind you.
Everyone’s breathing hard from the sudden get away, adrenaline still buzzing thick in the air.
But all Iwa can focus on is the sting in knuckles and the terrified look on your face.
“Are you okay?” you ask immediately, voice a little shaky and a whole lot worried.
He’s weirdly calm right now, too calm. Like all the anger fizzled out the second the cold air hit his face.
All he feels now is the heaviness settled deep in his chest.
“I’m so sorry,” he suddenly blurts, shame quickly creeping in.
You stare at him like he’s lost his goddamn mind.
Behind him, Makki lets out a confused, “Huh?” while Matsukawa starts cackling again.
Even Oikawa pauses mid-rant, eyes squinting hard.
“What the hell do you mean you’re sorry?” you spit out incredulously.
He swallows hard, unable to meet your eyes for a second, “That was stupid,” he mutters, flexing his aching hand with a wince, “I shouldn’t have embarrassed you like that”
For a moment, nobody says anything.
Then Matsukawa snorts, loud and obnoxious, “Dude.”
You roll your eyes, gently grabbing his battered hands and inspecting the damage, “Shut the hell up, you didn’t embarrass me you idiot”, you mutter, ears burning now.
“Well I, for one,” Oikawa says dramatically, throwing an arm around Iwa’s shoulders, “am pissed we had to leave, so you’re buying a bottle and we’re going back to yours”
Makki snickers, elbowing the drama queen in the ribs, “Iwa just beat the shit out of some guy for his girl and that’s what you’re worried about?”
And if your face was pink before, it’s burning now.
Heat crawls all the way up your neck as the words replay in your head on loop.
His girl.
And maybe it’s the adrenaline, or the fact that he didn’t even deny it, but your stomach flips hard.
When you finally glance at him, you find that he’s already staring at you, cheeks pink too.
You huff out a quiet little laugh before reaching up and pulling his face down just enough to press a soft kiss to his cheek, “Thank you for protecting me, my hero” you tease.
His entire face burns red instantly, and suddenly the sting of his knuckles is the last thing on his mind.
“Shut up” he mutters, despite the little smile pulling at his lips.
“Okay!”, Oikawa announces loudly, clapping his hands together, “Konbini time. We need a first aid kit and a case of soju.”
Still laughing and shoving at Iwa while he grumbles for everyone to shut up, the five of you start down the street toward the convenience store, the tension from earlier replaced with something warm and easy.
✦ . Note: Got it out as quickly as I could, hope you enjoy! In my mind, Jack is a confident, talkative guy when he's drunk, so take that how you will, lol.
─────────────────────────────────────────────
As the bottle whipped around on the coffee table, you quickly realized you were neither drunk nor high enough to deal with the embarrassment you were about to face.
It wobbled, catching on an ashtray on the edge of the space, before it slowed from one face, to another, then—
Jack.
You would’ve thought a gaggle of crows had just found their way into the living room at the sound that erupted from the corner of the room.
Natalie and Toby lost it.
Natalie slapped the back of Jack’s head with a loud smack while Toby howled, kicking his leg higher over Jack’s thigh as if he needed the extra support to keep from falling over laughing. Jack didn’t look the least bit impressed. He sat there between them on the loveseat pushed into the corner, his absent sockets pointed blankly at the bottle, its tip completely motionless and aimed right at him.
You felt a pit form deep in your stomach.
Being locked in a closet with the resident cannibal suddenly felt a lot less like a fun party game and a lot more like a very bad idea.
People started whooping and cheering, especially Toby and Natalie, who were still losing their minds. Jack slowly stood up, shrugging both of them off like they weighed nothing. They tumbled dramatically into the arms of the loveseat, still cracking up and clutching their ribs as they reached for each other.
“Good luck, big guy,” Natalie wheezed, wiping tears from her good eye. “You’re gonna die in there.”
Toby pointed at you with one shaky hand, laughing so hard he could hardly sit up right. “Don’t let him eat you!”
You glanced around the room, hoping for even a scrap of mercy, but everyone else was either grimacing in sympathy or grinning like this was the funniest thing they’d seen all night. Jeff and Ben looked especially pleased with themselves.
Jack rounded the coffee table without so much as a word. His tall frame cast a long shadow over you as he came to a stop right in front, staring down with his blank gaze. The black voids of his eyes seemed to swallow the light from the lights overhead. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to.
Until, “C’mon.”
You nodded quickly and pushed yourself up from the floor, legs a little unsteady. Jack turned without another word and started down the hallway. You followed a few steps behind him, fingers picking nervously at the hem of your shirt. The moment you left the living room, you heard Jeff yell over the noise, “Ben. Music.”
The music rushed in seconds later—loud, gritty rock blasting through the busted speakers twice as loud as before, the bass rattling the old floorboards under your feet.
The walk down the hall felt longer than it should have. Jack’s broad shoulders took up most of the space, his steps quiet and even like a cat. When he reached the closet door, he opened it and stepped aside.
You stopped a few feet away, looking up at him. The overhead light in the hallway cast strange shadows over his face, making the black eyesockets look even deeper.
Jack gave a nod toward the inside of the closet. One of his ears twitched against his head as he spoke, “After you.”
You swallowed, nodded back, and stepped past him. Reaching up, you tugged the pull chain. The bare bulb clicked on overhead with a hum, washing the small space in weak yellow light.
It was smaller than you remembered. Way smaller. The coats hanging on the rod ruffled against your shoulders as soon as you stepped in, and the stacks of old boxes and junk left barely enough room to stand.
Behind you, Jack had to duck. He placed one large hand on the top of the doorframe and bent down to fit through, his frame nearly filling the entire doorway before he stepped fully inside. The door pulled shut behind him.
The music outside dulled to a rumbling, muffled thump.
Now it was just the two of you.
The closet felt even tighter with Jack in it. He had to keep his head slightly lowered so it wouldn’t hit the hanging rod, his shoulders almost touching both walls. You stood with your side pressed against the coats and your back shoved against the wall, your heart beating fast as you looked up at him.
He was tall—always had been—but in the cramped little closet he seemed enormous. The light overhead cast a sickly yellow glow over him, highlighting every unsettling detail. His muted gray skin, almost ashen in places, stretched tight over sharp cheekbones and a strong jaw. Pointed ears poked up through messy dark hair, occasionally flicking and twitching once he straightened as much as the low ceiling would allow. You’d occasionally catch the gleam of his sharp teeth between his lips or the flash of his claws when he moved.
He looked… bigger in here. Like the walls had shrunk just to make him seem more imposing.
And then there were his eyes.
Or rather, the places where his eyes should have been. Nothing but deep, endless black voids stared back at you. In the dim light, they looked infinite—like if you leaned in too close, you might fall forever into that darkness and never get out. It was unnerving. And strangely hard to look away from. Like all the awe and horror of a black hole swallowing a planet.
He was dressed simply in baggy black sweatpants and an oversized blue shirt that still somehow looked tight across his broad shoulders and chest. You think he tried to dress as normally as possible to offset everything else that was jarring about him… or maybe this was just all that fit his size.
You swallowed, pressing your back a little more into the adjacent wall.
“…Are you comfortable?” You fished for something to talk about.
Jack grunted, “Mhm.”
That was it.
You racked your brain for something—anything—to say, your fingers twisting together nervously.
“So… uh, how’s your night been going?” you tried.
“Fun.”
You nodded awkwardly. “The party got pretty wild after that fight, huh?”
He gave a nod.
You waited. Nothing else came. You think you could die.
You tried once more, voice a little more chipper. “You, um… you like playing these kinds of parties usually, or…?”
“Sure.”
You let out a small, nervous laugh and looked down at your hands. Talking to Jack had never been easy, but this felt like pulling teeth. The seven minutes had barely started, and the silence already felt suffocating. Jack remained perfectly still, towering over you, content to simply exist while you slowly unraveled under the weight of this encounter.
“So… what have you—”
“Calm down,” Jack cut in.
You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”
He let out a chuckle, the sound surprisingly warm. “Your heartbeat. It’s pounding so loud it’s giving me a headache. It’s gonna explode if you keep that up.”
Your face burned. You pressed a hand to your chest without thinking, feeling the frantic thud against your palm. The embarrassment made it worse.
“I—I can’t just make it stop,” you sounded exasperated.
“Yes, you can,” Jack replied simply. “You’re just not trying.”
You rolled your eyes, letting out a short laugh. “Fuck off. Quit with the weird body shit.”
Jack tilted his head, looking at your sideways. Then, in a dry, surprisingly sarcastic tone, he said, “Oh, sorry. Didn’t realize the doctor had to cut it with the ‘weird body shit.’ How many times have you come down to my room after a mission asking for painkillers again? Oh yeah… a lot.”
You stared at him, genuinely surprised. A laugh bubbled out of you before you could stop it.
“Wait… was that sarcasm? From you?”
Jack’s shoulders moved in a small shrug, the corners of his mouth pushing up just a bit.
“I have layers,” he said flatly.
“I didn’t know you could be funny.”
Jack hummed. “There’s a lot you don’t know.”
You shrug, picking at your fingers as you looked at the ground. “Maybe it’s because you’re always so quiet. People can get intimidated.”
“People are usually scared of me. Easier to stay quiet.”
The words were simple, matter-of-fact, but they landed with a strange weight in your chest that made you look back up at him.
“I’m not scared of you,” you said after a beat. It wasn’t entirely true, but it wasn’t entirely false either.
“You’re a terrible liar,” he chuckled.
You laughed despite yourself, the sound a little nervous but genuine. “Okay, maybe a little. But not… not like that. Not the way people usually are.”
He didn’t respond right away. The music outside pulsed dully through the walls, the bass vibrating faintly under your feet. Jack shifted his stance, trying to get a little more comfortable in the tiny space, and ended up closer to you than before. The warmth coming off him was noticeable.
“You’re shaking a bit,” he said quietly.
You hadn’t even noticed. You crossed your arms over your chest and tried to play it off. “It’s cold in here.” But that was a lie. If anything, it was just below sweltering.
“Semantics.” Jack hummed, clearly not believing you. But he didn’t push. Instead, he leaned one shoulder against the wall, giving you a little more room—or at least trying to.
It got quiet again.
For nearly a full minute, the only sounds were the muffled thump of music outside and the occasional creak of the old floorboards whenever one of you shifted. Your mind wandered to the living room—wondering what kind of shit was unfolding now, who was winning at whatever stupid game they’d moved on to, whether Toby and Natalie were still laughing their heads off about you and Jack being stuck in here together or if someone else had voiced their opinions on it.
Then Jack spoke very matter-of-factly. “See? There it goes.”
You blinked. “What?”
“Your heart,” he said. “It’s calm now. You did it.”
You let out a small breath, almost laughing. “Ah… I didn’t really try to do it, though. It just… happened on its own.”
Jack huffed, he almost sounded amused. “Semantics.”
You rolled your eyes. “You can’t just say ‘semantics’ every time I make a point.”
“I can,” he replied, completely deadpan. “And I will.”
“Jack.”
“Semantics.”
“Jack.”
“Semantics.”
“This is very demeaning, y’know.”
“Semantics.”
You laughed at him. You were about to tease him again when Jack suddenly let out a chuckle—wait, a laugh? Not the short, dry sound he usually made with little amusement, but something warmer that bubbled up and out of his chest. His mouth curved into a wide, toothy grin, his sharp teeth gleaming like little pearls. His eyelids squeezed shut over his sockets as he laughed, and you found the sight so odd, like pulling a curtain over some void and trying to pretend it wasn’t there.
The sight caught you completely off guard. You’d never seen him smile like that—so open and genuine, almost boyish. It made something flutter oddly in your chest.
You laughed with him before you could stop yourself, surprised and delighted all at once. “What? What’s so funny?”
Jack just shook his head, still smiling big. “Nothing. You’re just… funny.”
You stared at him for a second, still processing the expression on his face. Then the question slipped out before you could think better of it.
“Jack… are you drunk?”
It was quiet again for a beat, until Jack let out a deep chuckle. The sound started delighted but quickly turned sheepish when you asked.
“No way,” you gawked, eyes wide.
Jack shrugged one broad shoulder. “Is it so obvious?”
You shook your head, still smiling. “No, it’s just… funny. This is probably the most I’ve ever heard you talk. And you’re being sarcastic? I thought, either that or you’re tripping.”
He laughed again and you couldn’t help but laugh with him, a little stunned. You’d never seen him like this.
“I barely even saw you drink tonight,” you added, tilting your head. “How did you manage that?”
Jack didn’t answer right away. Instead, that smile on his face shifted from one cheek to the other as he looked down at you. Something about the way he was watching you made your stomach flip with nerves again.
Then, without a word, he lifted his hands.
You watched, frozen, as his large gray hands curled under the hem of his baggy shirt. He slowly pulled it up, just high enough to expose his midsection. Your eyes widened.
God, he was built. Thick, solid muscle sat under muted gray skin, abs clearly defined and right above a deep v-line etched into his just-visible pelvis. A dark trail of hair disappeared down into the waistband of his sweatpants. You felt a little dizzy just looking at him.
But then your gaze caught on something much brighter.
Tucked neatly into the waistband of his sweatpants, wrapped all the way around his torso like some ridiculous colorful bandolier, were about two handfuls of little 99 brand alcohol shooters. Tiny bottles in every color—cherry red, lime green, coconut, orange, grape—all strapped against his skin, hidden right under his shirt.
You gawked at it.
Jack glanced down at himself, then back at you, still holding his shirt up. He must have noticed you staring at the colorful little bottles strapped around his waist, because he let out a low huff of a laugh and explained, “Toby and Nat ransacked a gas station right before the party started. They stole a whole bunch of these and hid them on me. Said it was the best way to keep them from getting passed around.”
You blinked, connecting the dots. “So that’s why you three have been glued together all night.
Jack gave a small nod. “They keep sneaking me into corners or bedrooms so nobody gets nosy and asks for any. Works pretty well.”
That also explained why Toby and Natalie had been so cuddly and hysterical—they were definitely beyond wasted by now.
“There were a lot more two hours ago,” Jack added, almost wistful.
Your eyes kept drifting between the little shooters and the hard planes of his torso, the contrast between the silly colorful bottles and his gray, muscled skin making your brain fizzle out a little.
Jack huffed. “Your heart’s loud again.”
You startled, pressing a hand to your chest like that would somehow quiet it. “Sorry. I’m trying.”
He reached down and plucked one of the shooters from his waistband—a bright cherry red one. The tiny bottle looked comically small in his large, clawed hand. He held it out toward you.
You waved him off. “I’ve had enough tonight, really.”
Jack’s mouth curved into a small, toothy smile. “As your doctor,” he said, deadpan, “it’s in your best interest that you drink this.”
You let out a surprised laugh. “As my doctor?”
A low growl rumbled in his chest, all gravely, and dark, and way more effective than it had any right to be. Every hair on your body stood on end.
“Drink it,” he said, quieter this time, but no less daunting.
You swallowed, took the little bottle from his hand, and twisted the cap off. It snapped open with a tiny clicks. You brought it to your lips and downed it in one go.
It burned.
God, it burned—like liquid fire sliding down your throat, sharp and sweet and way too strong. You winced, your eyes watering as the intense wave of alcohol hit your system. You hissed sharply as it went down, immediately tossing the empty shooter to the floor. “Jesus Christ, Jack—that tastes like rubbing alcohol.”
Jack laughed, then reached down and plucked a coconut-flavored one from his waistband, twisted the cap off, and downed it in one smooth motion. His pointed ears pressed back against his head as he swallowed, and then—to your viewing pleasure—three slick, dark tongues slipped out from between his sharp teeth. They curled around his lips, cleaning what he missed before disappearing again.
You stared, a little dazed.
The words left your mouth before your brain could convince yourself that you shouldn’t say anything.
“…Do things taste better with three tongues?”
Jack paused, considering the question like it was a serious inquiry. Then he shrugged one broad shoulder.
“It feels more intense,” he said plainly. “Like the taste is tripled. Overwhelms your senses more.”
Your heart skipped a beat in your chest.
Jack’s head tilted, his ears twitching a couple times. He must have heard it, because his gaze stayed fixed on you for a long second.
“…Can I taste yours?” he asked, just barely grumbling.
You blinked. “I already drank it all.”
Jack’s mouth curved into a wonky, toothy grin. The realization hit you just as the alcohol did.
Oh.
The buzz finally crashed over you in a warm, dizzy wave. Your heartbeat suddenly felt loud in your own ears, muffled like the music outside. You wondered if this was what Jack always heard when he was around people—that constant, frantic drumming. It made you wonder what else he could hear.
He shifted his weight onto the leg closest to you, leaning in until the space between you felt almost nonexistent. His shadow fell over you immediately like a stormcloud.
“You can taste mine too,” he purred.
You opened your mouth to say something—“Um—”—but your foot caught the edge of a box next to you. You stumbled, your balance completely gone.
Jack moved faster than you could see.
One strong arm hooked under your side and hauled you upright before you could even gasp, pulling you flush against his chest. Your hands instinctively grabbed onto his arms, your fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt.
“Sorry—” you started, breathless.
Jack just grumbled. His hands settled heavy on your hips, holding you steady as he leaned down over you, his face hovering just above yours. The closeness made your heart stutter all over again.
You looked up at him, still gripping his arms. “I’m not a good kisser,” you whispered, pulling uselessly at straws to not make this seem awkward.
Jack’s response was immediate and blunt.
“Shut up,” he muttered. “Open your mouth.”
The command sent a shiver down your spine. You tilted your face up obediently, lips parting.
Jack leaned in closer. His own lips parted, and three slick, warm tongues slid out from between his sharp teeth. They brushed your lips first—tasting the area—before one of them pressed forward and licked into your lips and across your tongue.
Then he kissed you.
It was overwhelming.
The three tongues moved with a mind of their own, sliding against yours, curling around it, exploring every inch of your mouth like they were starving for the taste of you. One licked along the roof of your mouth while another tangled with your tongue, the third teasing the space inbetween. The sensation was too much and not enough all at once, your hands moving up his arms to his shoulders to pull him closer.
A soft, surprised sound escaped you, muffled against his mouth. Jack answered with a low rumble in his chest, one hand sliding up your back to keep you pressed close while the other stayed firm on your hip.
He kissed like he did everything else—completely consuming.
You tasted coconut.
Jack pressed you back until your shoulder blades met the wall, one large hand planting beside your head while the other gripped your hip and pulled your lower body forward. The angle made your back arch slightly toward him. Then his hips rolled forward, and you felt the unmistakable, heavy shape of him pressing against your hip through his sweatpants.
You gasped sharply into his mouth and pushed weakly at his chest. “Sorry—” he slurred through a mouthful of you.
But Jack only tightened his grip on your hip and tugged you closer, grinding you against him with all the lack of resistance he had. His three tongues never stopped moving, overwhelming as they curled around yours and licked along the roof of your mouth, teasing the inside of your cheeks. You tried to kiss him back the best you could, but it was hard to keep up. Your breathing quickly turned shallow, little gasps and whimpers slipping out between the messy slide of tongues.
You’d never seen Jack like this.
He was usually so quiet, so reserved and mysterious. But right now he was surprisingly blunt, almost greedy with the things he was saying. This was probably the most you’d ever heard him talk, and you couldn’t get enough of it. The low growls, the occasional muttered curse, the way his voice dropped when he felt you react to him… it was doing dangerous things to your buzzed head.
You found yourself getting lost in those endless black voids where his eyes should be. The anxiety and embarrassment that had been clawing at your chest slowly melted away, like he was draining it out of you with every pass of his tongues and every roll of his hips.
Jack pulled back just enough to speak against your lips.
“Slow your breathing down,” he murmured, almost teasing you. One of his tongues slid across your bottom lip. “Still nervous?”
You let out a shaky breath, fingers curling tighter into his shirt.
“A little,” you admitted. Then, quieter, “Don’t stop.”
Jack made a deep, pleased sound in the back of his throat. His hand on your hip squeezed harder as he leaned back in, tongues sliding back into your mouth with renewed hunger. His hips pressed forward again, letting you feel just how hard he was against you. His lips eventually left yours, trailing slowly across your cheek, then down to your jaw. When they reached your neck, he pressed a slow, open-mouthed kiss there before dragging one of his tongues along your skin. The sensation made you shiver.
His hand left the wall and came up to the back of your head, his fingers threading into your hair as he firmly tilted your head to the side, giving himself more room. He licked wet, warm stripes up the side of your neck, then sucked just below your ear.
You gasped, your hands flying up to grip his shoulders. A nervous flutter shot through your chest as the reality of who he was hit you again.
“…Jack,” you breathed, half-joking but not entirely, “are you gonna eat me?”
He paused, his lips still pressed against your neck, before he begins chuckling against you.
“If you’ll let me,” he murmured against your skin, his breath causing goosebumps to rise across your shoulders. Your knees went weak instantly. A rush of heat flooded through you so fast it made you dizzy.
Jack must have felt it, because he straightened up, pulling back just enough to look down at you. One of his hands stayed on your hip, steadying you.
“You have no idea how brilliant your anatomy is,” he said plainly, as if he was just stating a fact. “I don’t mean to be crude… but your structure is perfect. I could map every inch of you with my eyes closed.”
You let out a startled laugh, your cheeks burning. The words were grotesque and strangely flattering at the same time.
“You can’t even see anyway,” you pointed out, still laughing a little. “Doesn’t that already mean you’re doing it with your eyes closed?”
“Kinda. It’s more like I’m looking through layers of thick film. Everything’s… foggy. I don’t understand it any better than you do. I stopped questioning how my body works a long time ago.”
You grinned, feeling bolder. “I don’t think you could actually do it without seeing. So what if you went to Yale, I’m still not that impressed with you.”
Jack’s hand lifted from the wall and reached above his head, his fingers finding the dangling pull chain of the overhead bulb.
You glanced up. “What are you doing?”
“So you know I’m not cheating,” he said simply.
He gave the chain a tug.
Click.
The light went out.
The closet plunged into near-total darkness, save for the thin sliver of hallway light bleeding in from under the door. For a second, your eyes struggled to adjust. And then you saw him.
In the dark, Jack was… horrifying.
The little light from beneath the door only barely outlined his silhouette, but it was enough. He looked like something that had crawled out of the woods at night—like something that you’d see in a horror movie. You understood his reputation, the stories you’ve heard from others about the things they witnessed the demon do, but you’d never faced the reality of it until now—never gotten a full picture of what he really was. His gray skin seemed to drink in what little light there was. The sharp points of his ears angled and swiveled to bumps and creaks all around. His claws curled at his sides, clenching the air as his shoulders slumped to account for the little space, his frame hanging over you. And those empty black sockets… they looked like holes punched straight through the sky. Bottomless. Ancient. You think they’d drop off like a cliff if you leaned any closer.
If you were anyone else, anywhere else—especially in the woods at night—you would’ve screamed and ran.
But you weren’t. Instead, you found yourself leaning closer.
Jack stepped in, pulling you against him with one arm around your waist. His mouth found your neck again, hot and wet as he kissed and licked along the flushed skin.
Then he began to map you. His fingers and lips moved carefully along your skin, until he pressed a kiss just beneath your ear.
“This is your Sternocleidomastoid,” he murmured against your skin, His clawed fingers traced the muscle on the other side of your neck, following the muscles shape. “Runs from here… to here.”
He dragged his mouth lower, his lips peppering your collarbone as his fingers followed.
“Clavicle,” he said, pressing lightly on the bone. “Deltoid…” His hand slid over your shoulder, squeezing the thick muscle there. “You hold so much tension right here.”
You shivered, little gasps and sighs as he massaged and traced areas. He had to maneuver you a bit, tugging you closer to his chest as he leaned down further. His fingers trailed down your side, his digits finding their way under your shirt until you felt them along your goosebumped skin. “External oblique…” His hand slid behind your back. “Latissimus dorsi…” Another kiss, lower this time, his teeth nipping as he moved. “You’re so well-built. Everything fits together so nicely.”
Jack’s hand slid down your arm until he caught your wrist. He lifted it and pressed a kiss to the thin skin on the inside, right where your pulse beat frantically.
“Right here,” he kissed it once more. “This vein runs straight to your heart.”
You thought it embarrassing how much you were shivering.
Then he moved his head lower, trailing his mouth down to your chest. He kissed you through your shirt, before slipping his hand from your back to your abdomen under your shirt. You felt shaky and exposed and way too vulnerable.
Jack’s claws curled and pressed in just a fraction at one specific point on your side, the sharp tips teetering on the idea of pressing further.
“This is your spleen,” he said with a little smile in his voice. “If I pressed any harder… I could puncture it. You’d bleed out quickly internally. It’d be so messy.”
He let the words settle in your head.
“Isn’t that interesting?” he whispered. “One little slip… and it could all be over.”
Anxiety twisted sharply in your stomach. But underneath it, something much darker and hotter stirred. Excitement. A sick, dizzy kind of thrill that made your thighs press together.
Jack noticed, because why-fucking-wouldn’t he? His claws dragged down your skin as his hand dipped lower, slipping toward the waistband of your pants. You grabbed his shoulders tightly.
“Wait—Jack, we don’t have much time,” you warned, looking to the door. “It’s gotta be almost seven minutes.”
He stopped for a second, only to chuckle to himself and lean back in, pushing a kiss against your jaw. Then, “I don’t think you really care,” he smiled. “Your body sure doesn’t.”
You whined as Jack’s hands roamed down your hips and around to your lower back, pulling you closer with a coaxing tug that said ‘I wasn’t really asking’. The heat of his palms bled through your clothes, making your skin prickle and scorch in spots.
“Shit,” you cursed under your breath, your nerves spiking to an all time high. “We can’t do this here—”
Jack just grinned at you. “It’s not me you’re gonna have to worry about getting us caught.”
You didn’t have time to ask what he meant.
His hands slid down and grabbed your ass, squeezing firmly. You squeaked, your hips jerking forward as you gripped the front of his shirt like a vice. Jack let out a satisfied noise and moved you exactly how he wanted—strong enough that you couldn’t have resisted even if you tried.
He spun you slightly, pressing your back more firmly against the wall as his fingers worked open the button and zipper of your jeans. The fabric gave way easily under his hands, the hem of your underwear peaking through the now-open folds. With one smooth tug, he shoved your jeans down your hips, letting them bunch around your thighs. The cool air hit your exposed skin and you shivered, trying to catch the breath that was so suddenly knocked out of you. Jack stood as straight as he could and examined his meal.
“Ah… fuck—just be fast, please,” you hissed.
Jack stood as tall as the low ceiling would allow, looking down at you by the bridge of his nose. And as if you couldn’t feel any smaller, he chuckled at you.
“You sure did give in quickly,” he hummed with satisfaction.
Embarrassment flooded your face. You squirmed against the wall, refusing to meet the place where his eyes should be. “Shut up and get on with it,” you grumbled, heat crawling up your neck.
Jack leaned in closer, planting one large hand on the wall beside your head. His other hand trailed down your side, then to your hip, before his fingertips drug over your stomach until they pressed firmly just above your pelvis. You tensed. Your hips tilted forward instinctively, fighting against the awkward bunch of your jeans still caught around your thighs.
His hand continued lower, stopping just above your clit, his palm hovering over the damp fabric of your panties. He leaned down until his mouth brushed your ear. “You’re in no place to get bossy right now,” he whispered, his breath tickling your ear.
Then he pressed one thick finger between your folds, right over your soaked panties. The fabric clung to you, and the moment his finger slid along your slit, it came away slick with your arousal. Jack kissed the edge of your jaw, peppering your skin, before pulling back just enough to look down between your bodies. A pleased sound escaped him.
“Well… this is a nice surprise,” and you could practically hear how pleased he was with himself.
You groaned in embarrassment and wrapped your arms tightly around his broad shoulders, burying your burning face into the side of his neck instead of letting him see you. His shirt smelled so strongly of his warm, crisp scent that it made you dizzy, but you’d rather hide from his taunting than pretend like it wasn’t turning you on something terrible. He could at least whisper it in your ear seductively, like a gentleman.
Jack’s finger continued rubbing exploratory circles over your clit, testing different pressures and angles to see how your body reacted. Every time he found a spot that made your hips roll or your breath punch out of you, he lingered there.
“You’re so sensitive,” he murmured, trying to sound plain, but the thrill in his voice gave away how much he was enjoying this. “Look at you… getting even wetter every time I touch you.”
“Shut up,” you whined, the words muffled against his shoulder.
“But I like it,” he hummed softly. “I like how your body tells me what you won’t.”
“Because you’d tease me,” you tried not to sound as pathetic as you felt.
Jack’s voice felt like somebody dragging a hot brand across your skin. “But you’d enjoy it, wouldn’t you?”
You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. The words got stuck somewhere between your pride and the heat scorching low in your belly.
Jack made a hum of acknowledgement, like he’d expected exactly that. His finger slipped beneath the edge of your panties, tugging the damp fabric to the side and exposing you to the air. You gripped him tighter, fearing if you’d let go you’d fall off the earth somehow.
He teased you—because why-fucking-wouldn’t he—dragging the pad of his finger along your folds, then higher up your inner thigh, then back again. But all so slow. He was enjoying how you tried (and failed) to stay still and not look desperate, your hips following wherever you felt his warm digits.
You pinched his shoulder in frustration.
Jack pinched you back, right on your upper thigh, “Impatient.”
“We don’t have time,” you nearly growled.
“Alright, alright,” he cooed.
Just as Jack’s fingers started honing toward your entrance, right when you thought he was finally going to give you what you wanted, you heard it. Heavy footsteps thumping down the hallway toward the two of you.
Your eyes flew open. Panic shot through you like ice water being poured over your head. You shoved at his chest, stumbling frantically, “Jack— I told you—”
But he didn’t stop.
Jack straightened up slightly, looking down at you like he always fucking did. His face was unreadable, but the corner of his mouth pulled up like he was amused. You tried to push his hand away, but he simply pressed forward, two thick fingers now sliding through your soaked folds and teasing at your entrance again.
“Jack—” you whisper-yelled, thinking maybe he thought you were still playing around, “we’re going to get caught—”
The footsteps grew louder, right outside the door now. Voices and laughter followed. But Jack brought his free hand up to his mouth in a little “shhh” motion, his pointer finger pressing to his lips. Then, without missing a beat, he reached beside him with that same hand and cracked the closet door open just an inch, enough for his face and upper torso to be visible while the rest of you stayed hidden against the wall and him.
Natalie and Toby’s voices burst through immediately.
“J!” Natalie called, clearly still drunk and delighted if the swimminess of her voice was any idea. “Time’s uuuup.”
Toby was laughing so hard he could barely speak, although nothing was really happening at the moment to warrant all the hysterics. “Is the poor thing still—HA—alive?”
But even still, Jack didn’t stop.
The tip of one thick finger pushed against your entrance, and before you could make a move to stop him, it pushed slowly into your aching cunt, stretching you open as you stood there, trapped between the wall and his body. You slapped a hand over your mouth instantly, eyes wide with panic and overwhelming pleasure as he sank the finger deeper, curling it lazily against your walls.
“Yeah,” Jack answered them, his voice back to its monotonous tone. “Alive. Barely.”
You clapped your hand over your mouth as his finger pumped in and out slowly, slick sounds barely masked by the loud music still blasting from the living room and their talking. Your knees trembled. Jack shifted his weight, pressing you harder against the wall to keep you upright while he casually chatted with his friends. You could see him trying to hold back a smile.
You couldn’t see Nat and Toby, but you assumed they were cheesing and standing on their tip-toes to try and get a view over Jack’s shoulder. “You didn’t actually bite ‘em, did you?”
Jack’s thumb found your clit just as a second finger tried to push in to join the first, the large digits catching on your entrance. It took shifting your hips, but they both pushed in. You could feel yourself clenching around him, having to bite down on your own hand to stay quiet.
“Not yet,” Jack finally grinned, his sharp teeth peeking out just as he curled his knuckles and massaged the inner wall of your cunt. “You shouldn’t eat big meals all at once.”
Toby wheezed with laughter. “You’re so w-weird, man. Hurry up and come out, we’re gonna d-do another round soon.”
Jack shifted his arm closer to your pelvis, the palm of his hand finding a home snug against your clit as he rubbed, curling his fingers just enough inside you to make small noises fight to escape.
“We’ll be out in a second,” Jack grinned. “We’re chatting.” The word alone sounded weird coming from his mouth, and Natalie sure didn’t miss it.
Natalie let out a loud, obnoxious laugh and slapped the wall on the other side of your head, making you jump. Jack acted like it was him adjusting, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. His fingers kept moving between your legs, massaging your soaked cunt as your slick dripped down over his knuckles. Your panties were absolutely ruined and you knew it.
He ignored her hysterics, turning his attention to Toby instead. “Hey. Remember those cases of beer you two stole? They’re still upstairs. Don’t forget them.”
It was like a starter pistol. Toby and Natalie immediately perked up.
Natalie cackled. “Jack, you’re a fucking genius. We’ll start another game! Take your time in there, you twoooo.”
Jack gave a small nod. “Start without us. We’ll be there soon.”
You heard their footsteps retreating down the hall, loud and clumsy with excitement, and maybe the sound of them shoving each other against the walls as they left. The second they were far enough away, Jack pulled the closet door shut, plunging you both back into near-darkness.
You immediately yanked your hand off your mouth.
“You asshole,” you hissed, smacking his chest. “I told you—I fucking told you—”
Jack just laughed, punctuating it as he curled his fingers deeper inside you. He bumped them, circling that perfect spot that made the words fizzle from your mouth.
“Did you hear that?” he leaned down next to your ear again. “They said we could take all the time we need.”
You gawked up at him, jaw dropping open in disbelief, but any protest died the moment he thrust his fingers harder, curling them just right until you felt a deep pressure in your gut. Your knees buckled. You tried to cover your mouth again, but the demon pulled your hand away.
“Jack—” you whimpered, pressing your head back against the wall to try and get some air.
He hummed in satisfaction, watching as he pumped his knuckles in and out, and in and out. “That’s what I thought,” he whispered, nipping at your earlobe.
Just when you were about to give in, when your nerves finally melted under the heat of his touch, Jack easily pulled his fingers out of you.
You gawked at him, all breathless and frustrated. “You’re such an asshole.”
He just kept grinning. “For somebody who keeps saying we shouldn’t be doing this… you sure do get upset when I stop giving you what you want.”
Your face burned with embarrassment. Before you could snap back at him, his hands moved to your jeans, still bunched around your thighs. He tugged them down with ease, and you helped him by shimmying and kicking them off when they caught around your sneakers. They landed in a heap somewhere beside you. Then his thumbs hooked into the waistband of your panties. He snapped the thin fabric against your hip, making you hiss, before dragging them down your legs. You started babbling nervously, words tumbling out without thought.
“Jack—wait, this is—this is bad—we’re gonna get caught, someone’s gonna come back and—oh my god—”
Either he didn’t hear you or he didn’t care. Your panties slid down your thighs and pooled at your ankles. You managed to kick one foot free, but the other stayed tangled as Jack placed one large hand on the inside of your thigh and pushed your legs further apart. You tried not to shiver—out of nervousness or excitement, you weren’t sure—but you gripped the bottom of your shirt like it could somehow hide you. You felt so unbearably exposed, just standing there half-naked like there weren’t people just feet away outside.
“You smell so fucking good,” he murmured. “So sweet.”
“Jack…”
“I’ve wanted to taste you for a long time,” he admitted. “Now I finally get to.”
Jack dropped to his knees in front of you.
The floorboards creaked under his weight, and you felt it in your bones—that heavy, solid presence suddenly lower, looking up at you from the most beautiful angle you think you’d ever seen. It was a terrifyingly beautiful sight. He was so tall that even on his knees he took up most of the space, his broad shoulders sitting at your waist-height. His large hands came up to grip your thighs, thumbs rubbing from your hips down toward your knees, coaxing your legs further apart. You felt like you could crawl up the wall from pure nervousness as he leaned in closer.
He started soft.
Warm lips pressed to your hip, then lower to your pelvis, peppering slow, open-mouthed kisses across every inch of soft skin he could reach. His breath was hot against you. When he finally settled fully between your thighs, his face hovered right in front of your cunt. You could feel him grinning—you could feel it.
You reached down with shaky hands, grabbing fistfuls of his messy hair to steady yourself. “Jack… please be easy,” you whispered.
He tilted his head up. “What are you so afraid of?” His lips brushed your inner thigh as he spoke, and you had to swallow your nerves.
“Your teeth…”
Jack pulled back just enough to show them off—the sharp, gleaming points smiling up at you. Then, just to be funny, he snapped his teeth together right in front of your cunt, the clack making you jump.
He chuckled. “You’re alright. I won’t hurt you.”
Before you could say anything else, Jack leaned in fully. He pressed a soft kiss just above your clit, his nose brushing against your skin. Then his mouth disappeared between your legs.
“I won’t hurt you a bit.”
The first touch of his tongue made you melt.
One thick, warm, wet tongue pushed slowly between your folds, dragging up through your slick heat and soaking in the taste. The feeling was overwhelming—hotter and more intense than you expected. He groaned at the first taste, the vibration rolling straight through your core as he licked again, like he was tasting something he’d been starving for.
Your grip tightened in his hair, a broken whimper slipping from your lips as your head fell back against the wall.
Jack’s hands slid around the backs of your thighs, gripping firmly as he angled your hips forward, opening you up even more for him. He pressed his face deeper between your legs and licked a broad stripe through your folds, dragging the flat of his warm tongue right over your clit.
It felt like a thick, wet tentacle sliding against you, like it had a mind of its own. His spit coated your cunt in a ridiculous amount, dripping down your thighs and making everything messy and obscene. For someone so stoic and quiet in his everyday, Jack was suddenly a mouthful of grunts and hungry groans against your skin. His pointed ears fluttered against the sides of his head with every lick, and his claws tugged and gripped against your thighs like he couldn’t pull you close enough.
You felt your resolve completely dissolve.
Your bones went soft, your legs relaxing as you started grinding against his tongue, chasing the pleasure with desperate rolls of your hips. Jack groaned deeply in response like he was approving the movements.
“Mhhm…” you whimpered, trying to curb your embarrassment to let him hear you. “Feels so good, Jack… feels really good—”
He made an appreciative sound and nudged the tip of his tongue against your entrance. It took some effort, but his fingers had done most of the hard work of stretching you, so your eyes rolled deliciously as his tongue breached your entrance and nudged its way inside your cunt. His tongue was longer and thicker than his fingers had been. It slid into your soaked heat with ease, warm and gummy from how wet you already were, reaching deeper than anything had before. You whined loudly, your hips jerking as he began to fuck you with it with thrusts that curled and stroked inside you.
Jack groaned as your hands gripped his messy hair, his eyelids slowly closing over those dark abysses you keep getting lost in.
But Jack was completely lost in you—eating you like a starving man, grunting and growling against your cunt while his claws dug into the soft flesh of your thighs, holding you open for his mouth. Every time you clenched around his tongue he made a pleased noise and pushed even deeper than before.
You opened your mouth to say something—anything—but the words died on your tongue the moment you felt it. A second tongue nudged insistently against your full entrance, probing and pushing alongside the first. It tried to slip in, but the angle was tight. You shifted your hips, trying to help, but Jack made an impatient growl and moved.
One of his large hands slid down the back of your thigh, hooked under your knee, and lifted it smoothly. He pushed your leg up and outward, spreading you open even wider before resting your knee over his shoulder. The new position left you imbalanced, and you had to halfway hold onto the wall and him for support.
But that was all the room he needed.
The second tongue nestled in alongside the first with a lewd plunge. You groaned loudly, your head falling to your shoulder as you felt too dazed to stand up straight. Two thick, warm tongues filled your cunt, pushing and pulling, curling and stroking against your walls in a messy, uncoordinated rhythm that somehow felt even better because of it.
“Fuck—Jack—” you whimpered, your voice breaking on every word.
He groaned in response, letting you know it felt good for him too. His claws dug into the soft flesh of your thigh as he held your leg in place beside his head. The sensation was insane. You felt so impossibly full, every inch of your cunt being claimed by him. Spit and your own wetness dripped down your thighs and his chin as his tongues worked deeper, twisting and exploring like they were trying to map every part of you from the inside.
You felt it before you could even process it—before you’d even had time to process the second one—a third tongue slipped from between his lips, sliding wetly between the other two. It nudged right up against your swollen clit, pressing and rubbing torturously well.
A violent shiver ripped through you. Your hands flew from his hair to his ears, your fingers curling around the pointed tips to get some semblance of stability.
Jack shuddered. His whole body jolted like he’d been shocked. His ears pinned flat against his head for a second before flicking wildly under your touch. The reaction was so sudden and strong that you both froze for half a heartbeat.
Then, cautiously, you started rubbing them.
Your thumbs stroked over the sensitive tips and along the soft lobes, gently feeling his cat-like ears. He tried his best to keep licking you, but kept getting caught on stiff moans.
“Jack…” you gasped. “Umm… Does that feel good?”
He nodded against you, jaw and chin bumping messily into your soaked folds. He was taking deep, loud breaths through his nose, exhaling against you. Then the most unexpected sound rumbled out of his chest.
A low, rumbling purr.
At first you thought it was just your own nerves buzzing in your head, but no—you could feel it. The vibration rolled through his chest and straight into your bones, all warm and constant, making your toes curl and your eyes flutter shut.
“Oh my god—” you moaned, your mouth falling open as the sensations intensified. It felt obscene, like his entire body was vibrating against your most sensitive places and melting your mind.
Jack was losing himself, too. His purring grew louder, deeper, as you kept stroking and rubbing his ears. His tongues moved with renewed hunger—two thrusting and curling inside you while the third flicked and sucked messily at your clit. It seemed as if he was wholly content on drowning himself in you.
You were babbling now, open-mouthed and shameless. “Fuck—Jack, that feels—hah—oh god—I can’t—please—”
The pressure built fast—too fast. A sudden, overwhelming wave of bliss crashed over you, pulling a sharp gasp from your throat.
“Jack—Jack, I’m gonna cum,” you whimpered, scrambling to hold him tighter.
His eyelids fluttered open halfway, empty eyesockets staring up at you while you trembled. You got lost staring into them, your head spinning to a heap of mush as you felt pleasure running your veins. That look alone pushed you over the edge.
You came so miserably hard.
Your whole body seized up, thighs shaking violently around his head as pleasure ripped through you in crashing waves. You clenched desperately around his tongues, moaning loud and shamelessly as your orgasm flooded his mouth. Jack groaned at the beginning of the taste, your slick flooding his senses so quickly it made him just as delirious as you.
His tongues stiffened inside you, pressing and nudging firmly against your rapidly clenching walls, milking every last pulse of pleasure as he sucked greedily on your clit. His nose stayed crammed tight against you, his lips sealing around you as he swallowed again and again, drinking everything you so graciously were giving him.
You were loud at first—broken moans and desperate praises spilling from your lips without filter. But as the peak began to fade, it melted into soft, mewled whines and shaky groans. Your orgasm turned into a rippling, lingering current deep in your gut, sending aftershocks through your body that made your legs twitch and your hips jerk weakly against his face.
With some effort, Jack began to tug his tongues from your body one at a time, the thick muscles sliding out of you, and a mess of slick followed. Jack made sure to lick it all up, his tongues running through your folds once more, savoring every twitch and flutter like he couldn’t bear to pull away.
You gasped sharply, everything suddenly feeling way too oversensitive.
“Jack—wait, it’s too much,” your voice was hoarse. “Too sensitive—”
He made a reluctant sound but slowly retreated, his tongues slipping back into his mouth like it pained him to do so. He sat back on his knees, looking up at you. His chin and mouth were glistening with a messy mix of his spit and your slick, and those black voids stared at you with unmistakable longing.
The moment he pulled away, the leg you still had planted on the floor buckled. You slid down the wall with a surprised yelp, landing in a boneless heap in front of him. Your ankle was still hooked over his shoulder, leaving you sprawled and openly exposed across his lap.
Jack caught you instantly though, his strong hands bracing your waist so you didn’t hit the floor too hard. You panted quickly, your chest billowing up and down as you tried to catch your breath. It felt like your whole body was buzzing.
Before you could even try to sit up, Jack gripped the ankle resting on his shoulder and tugged upward. You were pulled further down until your ass rested on top of his knees, your shoulders braced against the baseboards behind you. You felt like you were folded in half. You tried to scramble upright, feeling awkward, but Jack was already catching your other leg—the one with your panties still dangling uselessly from the ankle—and lifted it smoothly onto his opposite shoulder.
“More,” he grumbled.
Your stomach flipped with panic.
“No, no, no—wait, I need a minute,” you babbled through deep breaths of air, throwing your hands up. “I can’t—you’re too much, I need to breathe—just for a second—”
But he wasn’t listening. His focus had narrowed completely. Those endless black sockets were fixed between your legs with single-minded hunger.
“I’m sorry,” was all the response you got.
“Jack—”
He handled you like you weighed nothing.
His hands gripped your hips firmly and pulled your lower half upward in one smooth motion. Your knees hooked over his broad shoulders as your head and shoulder blades slid and landed against the floor. Your body folded almost in half, completely upside down, your shirt riding up to expose your stomach and chest. His large arms wrapped around your torso, strong hands gripping the soft flesh of your sides, holding you securely in place so you couldn’t even squirm out of it if you wanted to.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured again, but there was no real remorse in it. If anything, he just sounded excited. “You just taste so fucking good… I need you to cum again. Just a little more. Then I’ll be done.”
Your head was already spinning from the rush of blood, so you had no fight in your body or your words. You gripped his arms tightly, trying to brace yourself.
“Let’s just go to my room,” you fussed, trying to get him to just take a second. “It’s way too cramped in here, we can’t—”
But every protest died on your tongue the instant you felt it.
A familiar sensation dragged up through your soaked folds in a broad, wet lick. Your legs fell open limply over his shoulders as a broken moan wailed from your throat. The new angle gave him the perfect access, angling you however he wanted.
“Oh god…”
Jack moaned as he licked again, savoring every inch of you like he couldn’t get enough. His arms tightened around your torso, pulling your hips up and against his hungry mouth.
“Fuck…” he rasped against your cunt. “Do you even know… mhnnn… how good you taste?”
Jack’s eyelids fluttered shut again, the black voids disappearing as he focused entirely on you.
Then you saw it—the absolute horror and fascination of his other two tongues slipping out from between his lips to join the one. They were sickly blue-black, glistening and drooling with spit, long and monstrously thick. They dangled for a moment before curling forward, licking up the insides of your thighs until they finally converged, forking together right at your entrance.
Through a mouthful of his own tongues, Jack mumbled against your cunt, “Jus’ hang on to me.”
You dug your nails into his forearms, your breath coming in short, panicked gasps as the three tips pressed against your pulsing entrance at once. Your hips jerked, thighs instinctively trying to clamp shut around his head, but Jack held you firmly in place. It took a little work—a slight shift of your hips, a change of the angle—but eventually, the three tongues wiggled their way inside you together.
The stretch was impossible.
You let out a keening moan as your walls were forced open wider than they’d ever been, the bulbous, wet muscles filling you as completely as they could reach. No inch of room was left untouched. The sensation of burning was so intensely good that your mind went fuzzy at the edges. Your body went limp and mushy in his hold, your legs shaking helplessly over his shoulders as he sank all three tongues as deep as they could go.
Jack groaned loudly into you, the sound vibrating through your core as he began to move them, greedy thrusts and curls that rubbed against every sensitive spot inside you at once. Spit and your own arousal dripped messily down your ass and stomach as he practically fucked you with them.
You could barely think. All you could do was cling to his arms, your mouth open in a silent cry as he devoured you from the inside out, purring and growling enough to cause concern that he might actually be eating you.
And as if it couldn’t get any worse—or wonderfully better—Jack shifted one of his arms from your torso up to between your legs. His thumb found your throbbing clit and began rubbing slow circles over it, smearing your own wetness across the sensitive bud.
The shock of pleasure was devastating.
Your back arched hard off his lap, spine curving sharply as a silent cry tore through you. Your hands flew up above your head, palms slapping against the wall behind you for any kind of leverage. You tried to speak—tried to moan his name, to beg, to curse—but nothing came out. All the air had been punched out of your lungs. The only sounds your body could produce were the wet, filthy squelches of your cunt accommodating its intruder. You bucked your hips desperately, riding his face as much as your weak, trembling legs would allow. Every thrust of his tongues and stroke of his thumb sent white-hot sparks shooting up your spine. Your thighs shook violently over his shoulders, muscles twitching uncontrollably as you ground yourself against his mouth and tongue like you’d lost all semblance of control.
Jack’s purring grew louder, deeper, the constant rumble vibrating straight into your cunt and making your eyes roll back. He was completely lost in you, this newfound, insatiable hunger dampening his mind until all he could do was eat. You couldn’t even form words anymore. Couldn’t even think anymore.
You felt it building again—that familiar coil tightening deep in your core, winding tighter and tighter with every thrust of his tongues and stroke of his thumb.
“Ja… Ja—ck… Jaahh—” you tried to warn him, but your voice was just as useless as the rest of your body. Your hand slapped weakly at his arm, your fingers grappling desperately as panic rose.
But Jack didn’t stop. Of course he didn’t. If anything, he doubled down. Tears welled up in the corners of your eyes, spilling over and running down your flushed cheeks as the pleasure became almost too much. You managed one shaky, broken whimper of his name right before you felt it.
Little sharp pinpricks.
Your eyes flew open through the tears. Jack had pulled back just enough for you to see his face. His lips were pulled back in a growl, sharp teeth fully exposed and pressed right against your slick, sensitive folds. Not breaking skin, not hurting you, but just resting there, a deadly reminder of exactly what he was.
You almost found it shameful how quickly that ruined you.
Your eyes rolled back, lashes fluttering uselessly as your vision blurred. You saw his face, then the ceiling, then the back of your eyelids—and then white.
“I’m cumming—fuck, I’m cumming—” you blabbed, trying ridiculously hard to say nearly nothing. “Jack—I’m—oh god—”
This one slammed into you harder than the last.
Your whole body seized up, back arching violently as you came with a silent, open-mouthed cry. Your cunt clenched hard around his invading tongues, pulsing and gushing around them as wave after wave crashed through you. Tears streamed down your face pathetically.
Jack growled louder against you, the sound feral and satisfied as he drank down every drop you gave him. His tongues kept working you through it, thrusting and curling relentlessly gathering everything they could.
“Jaaaaack—” you mewled.
He finally pulled his tongues out of you with a wet pop sound, leaving you clenching around nothing. He was panting hard against your cunt, his breath hot and ragged as he licked slowly through your folds, then across your trembling thighs, cleaning every trace of your release like he couldn’t help himself.
Your legs slipped weakly from his shoulders, falling limply around his hips. For a long moment, the only sounds in the tiny closet were your shared heavy breathing and the distant thump of music as you tried to calm yourselves. Jack looked down at you, his face glistening with your slick. He stayed quiet, just watching you with those endless black sockets while you tried to remember how to breathe.
When your breathing finally evened out a little, he asked softly, “Are you alright?”
You managed a small, shaky nod.
Jack carefully helped you sit up, guiding your back against the wall. “Can you stand?”
You tried shifting your weight, but your legs felt like jelly. You shook your head, embarrassed.
He let out a low chuckle. “It’s alright.”
Jack moved your legs gently off his lap so he could stand. He turned and rummaged through the hanging coats until he found one that looked soft and long enough. Without an explanation, he draped it over your mostly naked body, wrapping it around you like a blanket. Before you could even thank him, he leaned down and scooped you up into his arms. One arm hooked under your knees, the other supporting your back as he held you securely against his chest. He bent down just enough to snag your discarded jeans off the floor.
You clutched the coat tighter around yourself. “Jack, I can’t go out there like this…”
He chuckled again, the sound warm in his chest. “Toby and Nat have everyone occupied by now. No one’s gonna notice.” He pressed a quick kiss to the top of your head. “Besides… I think a nice bath in my room could do you some good.”
You hesitated for half a second, then nodded, too tired and floaty in the head to argue.
Jack cracked the closet door open, listening for a moment, his ears swiveling around. When the coast seemed clear, he slipped out with you cradled against him, your arms grabbing around his neck. You both moved quickly down the opposite end of the hall, away from the noise of the party. Laughter and shouting echoed from the living room as you snuck up the stairs like two stowaways.
He never let his grip loosen on you for a second.
Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos are appreciated!
You’re so nervous and way too self conscious. You’re not crazy enough to even follow him home- which means Brian has to pick you up by the scruff to make you focus.
He’s posing for your sneaky pictures, talking about where he’s staying loud as hell. But you’re still too scared- too flustered to even get a proper photo. So now he’s genuinely about to wave his boxers out the window to try and trick you into picking the lock or something.
Hoodie is very not normal about it. You drop his old paper cups in front of him and he’s cooing at you. “Oh, honey. Did you kiss ‘em thinking about me?” Literal hearts in his eyes as he leans in, he’s holding you tight enough to have your breathing shallow.
He’ll nuzzle your cheek, kissing along your neck like you’ve been lovers for years. His logic is that, if you did all this, it must mean you’re ready for commitment.
He also thinks it’s really cute when you try being stealthy. It makes him concerningly horny watching you fail to stay quiet when you break in, and in his head you’re already married.
You’re unwell, but he’s on life support in terms of love sickness.
Ommgggg ur latest smau,,,,, I'm the biggest proxycule fan ever you dont understanndd
And I'm choosing to believe that last video attachment was definitely bri eating reader out, asking her if she's thinking about tim right now and getting her to whine his name to give him something to listen to on his job that day OUGHHH :333
WELL YESSSSSS
The video starts with him pulling back from between your thighs, side angle. His arm is looped under your legs to catch the way your slick sticks to his face.
The camera flips, and he’s spitting on your cunt. Rubbing it in with his fingers, then immediately thrusting them inside to hear you gasp. The entire time you can hear him mumbling, talking you through it and being annoyingly cocky.
“Let him hear it, c’mon.” And “You thinkin’ ‘bout him, baby? That ain’t very nice- I’m the one making you sound all pretty, no?” While he’s slamming his fingers against your sweet spot, grinding his palm on your clit.
Oh Brian.
dream a little dream of me. @ssun4lifer - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
