bri

☔️🐍🖤

[honeyteddygrahams-blog]

~ BIG BOY SEASON

pls don’t read this if you don’t like porn links please know that the characters are up to age meaning they are either adults or teen ages 18-19

~ RYOMEN SUKUNA

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~ ALL MIGHT

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~ YAMI SUKEHIRO

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~ TENGEN UZI

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~ TOJI FUSHIGURO

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~ EREN YAGER

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[kill3ill]

jjk p! links — 18+, graphic xxx content

fratjo (gojo satoru)

missionary with your legs spread wide ⸍ fingering⸍ drilling into you ⸍ gaming while he fucks you ⸍ pussy eating ⸍ doggy ⸍ backshots from heaven (hell) ⸍ stroking his dick when cuddling

mean nanami

thigh riding to toy with you after he's had a long day at work ⸍ sit on his face ⸍ smooth thrusts ⸍ missionary ⸍ finger fucking ⸍ this while he drives ⸍ breeding ⸍ backshots

cult leader geto

switching the positions ⸍ this but on his throne ⸍ fingering ⸍ rough sex + breeding ⸍ in the showers ⸍ mating presses bc he needs an heir from you ⸍ pussy eating ⸍ breeding

assassin toji

toji's making sure it takes. ⸍ he pumps you full in missionary ⸍ rubbing your pussy ⸍ teasing you with his tongue ⸍ rough missionary ⸍ rough wall sex ⸍ this ⸍ hes making you do all the work

stoner choso

soft pussy eating ⸍ panties pushed to the side ⸍ breathplay + backshots ⸍ not putting it in ⸍ riding ⸍ stroking his pretty dick ⸍ this when high ⸍ somno

boxer sukuna

prone ⸍ fucking you like a ragdoll ⸍ hole inspection ⸍ voyeurism humping your thighs ⸍ thumb in ur butt ⸍ this ⸍ grinding

see more in my jjk masterlist

see more in my main masterlist

reblog and leave a comment!

[honeyteddygrahams-blog]

the shoto ones are SO accurate, pls moreee 😭😭 love your content

~ MY HERO ACADEMIA LINKS

pls don’t read this if you don’t like porn links know that the characters are up to age meaning they are either adults or teen ages 18-19

~ KATSUKI BAKUGO

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~ KIRISHIMA EIJIRO

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~ IZUKU MIDORIYA

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~ SHOTO TODOROKI

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~ DENKI KAMINARI

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[honeyteddygrahams-blog]

~ BIG BOY SEASON PT2

pls don’t read this if you don’t like porn links please know that the characters are up to age meaning they are either adults or teen ages 18-19

~ CHOSO KAMO

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~ NAGUMO YOICHI

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~ NANAMI KENTO

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~ BENIMARU SHINMON

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~ GYOMEI HIMEJIMA

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[honeyteddygrahams-blog]

RAHHH PLS DOO HAIKYU🥺🥺🥺

(aoba johsai or inarazaki plss im begging 😭😭)

~ AUDIOS THAT REMINDS ME OF HAIKYUU CHARACTERS

pls don’t read this if you don’t like porn links know that the characters are up to age meaning they are either adults or teen ages 18-19

~ ATSUMU MIYA

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~ OSAMU MIYA

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~ RINTAROU SUNA

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~ TOORU OIKAWA

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~ IWAIZUMI HAJIME

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~ KENMA KOZUME

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~ TETSUROU KUROO

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[nanakamii]

JJK P!RN L¡NKS ⭑.ᐟ

200 follower special!

Mostly solo | ooc, audio porn, frotting, fingering, car sex, edging, riding, p in v, sex toys, mutual/guided masterbation, public sex?, mommy, squirting, spanking, water sports?, idek🤦🏾‍♀️

Toji Fushiguro

Toji teasing you

Fingering yourself for toji

Interrupting gamer!toji

Phone call with toji

Satoru Gojo

Trying something new with Gojo-msub

Gojo sent a message!

Gojo sent another message!

Taking nerdjo’s virginity

Gojo wakes you up

Pleasuring gojo

Riding nerdjo/gojo

Kento Nanami

Boss!nanami puts you in your place

Nanami giving you a real punishment

Nanami spanking you with the paddle

Daddy nanami ties you up(including squirting)

Choso Kamo

Needy!Choso proving to you why he needs it otp

Choso missing you-solo

Jerking off in his boxers

Sneaking away with choso

Choso really misses you

Calling choso

Milking choso

Suguru Geto

Geto’s first time with a non sorcerer

He misses you!!

[rotttendollette]

✷Bakugou Katsuki Plinks ✷

Serving him while he plays video games with his friends

His favorite way to wake your up 2

You’re so needy you can’t wait for him to get home so you send him a video

Fingering you until your mind goes blank

Your hair makes a great handlebar

Punishing you for touching yourself without permission

Your first time not using a condom

He loves how vocal you are

Ripping your fishnets to eat you out

After he finishes inside you he loves watching it leak out your swollen pussy

[rotttendollette]

sooo.. more izuku p!links when?🥹🥹💗

AHH TY FOR THE REC MORW NOW

- IZUKU MIDORIYA PLINKS -

Video he sends you when he’s needy

Before you guys got together he would jerk of to you

He needs you pregnant now

Your so mean only taking his tip :(

He definitely has a mommy kink

When you don’t have time to fuck you guys do this

He so whimpers

Having sex in his friends bathroom

He’s definitely such a gentleman

[tteokdoroki]

🛞 YOU AIN'T MY BOYFRIEND ✩  katsuki bakugou .ᐟ

🏁 pit stop ! 𖦹 you think that katsuki bakugou cares too much. he obsesses over the little things. whether or not you've eaten, whether or not you're seeing someone else, whether or not you even like him. you can't understand why he cares so much about someone like you. after all, he isn't even your boyfriend. (6.2K)

🏁 safety car ! ⋆ not safe for work ⋆ suggestive & angst ⋆ eighteen plus only. pro hero au, characters are depicted as adults. friends with benefits, brief smut scenes, daddy kink mention, situationships, insecurity, simp katsuki, avoidant attachment styles, reader and katsuki are bad at feelings, unhappy ending, open ending. pro hero katsuki bakugou, toxic avoidant & fem reader.

🏁  team radio ! ⋆ happy birthday to me!! sharing another fic for my bday bc it is my gift to you!! for all the memories n the love n awl!! this year its blasty boy, based on this post i made ages ago. been workin on this for a while and it felt so good to explore katsuki in this way!! there may be a part two lol. thank you so much as always! hope you all enjoy and click for more. 

── © tteokdoroki ╱ 2026.

bakugou has always been good at sensing oncoming danger. no, he didn’t have a quirk for it and no, he didn’t have to train at it. he’s always just had a penchant for knowing when peril was prowling along the horizon, he thought quick on his feet and under pressure, his instincts were killer. there’s a reason why he’s the best at what he does. saving people, stopping threats. 

but then, there’s you. 

they’d call you a hero level threat if they knew you, a little more then personally. an enigma  that sucks the good-hearted nature out of someone and turns them into something hollow. a villain by matters of the heart rather than that of society — although a string of failed relationships and an obvious lack of commitment would argue otherwise. katsuki never sees it coming, the fatal blow you land on him, the one that shatters his very vision of how love works. 

he doesn’t expect to meet you through a friend of a friend and hit it off straight away, his walls crumbling down as if they were made from nothing but sand. a somber stooge to thrashing imperial shaded waves and saltine sea water. he doesn’t anticipate falling fast, hard enough to scrape his knees on shingly tarmac. abrasive on the palms of his hands. all this, even though dynamight has never tripped or lost his cool before.

you’re disarmingly funny, smart-mouthed when it counts but you’re dedicated to your craft and fiercely loyal to the people you care about. by all means, you’re the girl of his dreams, there’s not a day that goes by where you’re not the first thing on his mind after a gruelling patrol and meetings with the hero commission. 

katsuki seeks you out like a blossom winding up to find the sun, desperate to spend free time with you — dates that aren’t really dates in places hidden away from prying public eyes. late nights that lead to your legs tangled at the short end of his couch, your cheek smooshed into his chest and a hand low the small of your back. heaviness there that doesn’t seem burdensome, natural.

the two of you are too far into the comfort zone after such a short time, he doesn’t even pick up on the blaring warning signs. the dating app notifications that still pop up on your phone, the way your head dips when he leans in a little too close to kiss you. 

he doesn’t see it clearly enough, the dangerous thorns that wrap around you like the stems of a blood red rose. his friends know better, you’re the type of girl who drank the blood of her enemies and ate the bones of her past lovers, stripping them bare like a carcass lost in the wastelands. they know the map of bakugou’s being well, the subtle craving for attachment and endearment that lies behind walls of flesh, muscle and a hardened exterior made up of a bit of trauma with a dash of near death. for all his gruffness and grandeur, there is a human within katsuki bakugou. one who carnally craves the simple promise of forever with someone else. 

those friends who pledge a lifetime by katsuki’s side aren’t enough to satisfy his appetite and yearning inner-ego, they know that, but still — they look out for him. 

“oh, relationships? i don’t do those.” you’d laughed, then, waving a hand dismissively when mina corners you on the way into the dynamight agency. a favour. a good friend willing to ask what the other can’t. 

her shoulders had risen in anxiety, treading carefully as the pink haired pro prodded and pried. “then what about katsuki?”

“what about him?” you quipped, tone clipped, unwilling to fall open to her investigation. katsuki’s friends weren’t yours by any means — you were new, fresh meat in their eyes that had somehow withstood of concerned childhood classmates. “we’re not dating. just messing around?”

mina’s expression soured then. “does he know that?” 

“he should. he’s a grown man, i’m sure he knows what kind of relationship he can handle.” 

“a situationship.” 

“a friendship that comes with added benefits.” he recalls you supplying. quick to the punch and cold like ice.

katsuki stays long enough to hear mina give you the low down. katsuki bakugou doesn’t do casual, he doesn’t mess around — his heart only goes out to some and when it’s yours, you’re supposed to take care of it. mina gives you the chance to walk away, leave him be and you fail to take it. with that minacious sense of esurience you possess.

the first time you sleep together happens after your first fight. he wants something you can’t give him, permanence, the sturdiness that reminds one of an oak tree that’s grown proud and tall over time. katsuki wants something that lasts and his heart is set on you — someone who disappears into the rolling smoke and only exists for a split second, a momentary fraction of time like when the sun and moon meet for an eclipse. you’re evanescent, almost imaginary, fleeting like a nomad who never stays for too long.

he can’t have you. not in the way that he needs to feel stabilised. 

everything blows up, when you tell him that. sitting on the other side of the bed, wearing his clothes, comfortable in his penthouse where your shoes ( an impressive collection of sneakers to high heels ) are lined up by the door and you’ve got a favourite mug on the top shelf of his kitchen cabinets where only he can reach. there’s a piece of you everywhere in bakugou’s home but not a single piece you can part with long enough for him to call you his own. the fight is full of rage and pent up frustration and a hurt that’s nearly incurable — katsuki should have made you leave right then and there, emotions rising like hot air above cool. with tears building behind his red eyes that burn brightly with fury, but he can’t because you’re so intertwined with his life, it’d be like having a lung missing if you’d gone. 

it’s not love, it shouldn’t be — but his heart feels anchored to you even if it’s holding you back. you let him say it, that he loves you so much it could kill him in his youthful age. he loves you while pushing into you deep, chest rising and falling in tune with yours, much like a habit you’ve picked up from one another. he loves you with your legs hiked high on his shoulders, at the weight of his shaft pressed up against your sensitive walls with his teeth and tongue marking you like you belong to him. the sex that night had felt like a confession, a love letter written in hickies and scratch marks — penned and signed into your body by rough-padded fingertips that find your clit between rolling waves of trusts, hips that hit yours like the turning tide hits the shore.  

in the moment, you reciprocated. sung his praises kike they were the lyrics to your favourite song, coated in wistfulness. howled his name, katsuki, at the moon whilst the stars bore witness to the union of your souls and your bodies. struck claw marks between the muscles in his back, leaving him with a scar. a heavily ironic reminder of your presence in his life — even if you left him physically, you’d still be there in the root of his heart and in every breath he’d take from then on. he couldn’t get rid of you, not that he wanted to, not even if he tried. in every sense of the word — mind, body and soul, katsuki had decided he belonged to you. willed you to understand through every stroke of his cock into you, every gentle kiss that deepened to share hungry moans, every caress over your battle wounds and fatal flaws… that he was yours, however you wanted. whatever that looked like. he would take it. 

in the morning, you were different — colder, sharper, as if the sinful hells from which your desire had risen from, had now  frozen over. like the heat and passion you’d shared were nothing but a mutually beneficial exchange. pleasure for pleasure, not to be mistaken for beating hearts coming together as one. in the morning, you’d tossed katsuki aside, smiling sweet, your lips pressed against his cheek, your clothes from the night before wrinkled against your love-bruised frame. “thank you,” he remembers you saying. “same time next week?” 

it’s a joke that lands as a sucker punch. worse than any hit he’s ever taken on the field. 

despite that, bakugou had never wanted you more. something he couldn’t keep. a hurricane in a glass jar that  he couldn’t contain. free as a bird that could fly away at a moment's notice — too dazed with desire and devotion to see the cruel limbo you were leaving him in. even then he’d have called you the girl of his dreams, perfect in every way except for your knack for avoidance. he should have walked away then. 

he should walk away now. as his tired, blood red eyes look to you with a rose tinted lens. watching you sleep soundly amongst sheets you’d complain cost more than a month’s rent and won’t let katsuki buy for your own apartment. still thinking that you’re perfect for him, that you fit right into his world where you’ve made him so intrinsically part of your own. thriving in this weird symbiotic relationship where you get your needs taken care of and he gets a taste of what it’s like to be longed for. as more than a hero. as less than dynamight. just katsuki. you’d taken a sledgehammer to the pro hero’s concrete shell and sent his shield packing, now he’s no longer to build up his walls without fear of shutting you out. 

friends with benefits, lovers but not quite — bakugou doesn’t care as long as he’s with you. he’d pick fights for you until he turned black and blue, rescue you from the competition because he knows it means having his way with you afterwards, let you call him your boyfriend high on life and liquor just to piss another man off. now you’re in his shirt, the warm charm of the sun spilling through his curtains to illuminate the soft slopes of your thighs and highlight every perfect imperfection on your skin. the scars you try to hide, the tiger stripes you sometimes let him love. 

you look softest when you’re asleep, like you wouldn’t dare destroy someone’s self worth and ability to love. you don’t look dangerous. 

he still doesn’t believe that you are.

“suki,” stretching high and wide like a little harmless — maybe even blameless — kitten lounging under the blessing of the afternoon sun. your voice calls to him — wafting through the aerosols that catch light under golden rays. they act as a smog, a performance of smoke and mirrors that hides your true intentions from the blonde. even if he were to wave his hand through the smoggy disguise, katsuki still wouldn’t be able to see your desires clearly. “my head hurts.” 

“yeah?” bakugou’s bare chest rises and falls with somewhat of a brusque titter, the sound curling inward like a wisp of smoke caught within his lungs —  cemented into their small branches of bronchi. it’s soft, barely noticeable, if you weren’t listening. almost as if he’s been trying to keep it a secret from you. as though his fondness were to scare you away. “want me to kiss it better?”

“mhm…” more of you emerges from cotton hills and stiff peaks of linens — a hand rubbing through the crust corned at your eyes and lips. “god it kills, what even happened last night?”

even then, despite the sleep caked into your skin and the lines carved out by creases in the sheets struck against your cheeks, disregarding the bitterness to your morning breath and the drool staining the fabric of his your sleep shirt — you’re still the most beautiful person in the world to katsuki bakugou. with all your flaws and icks and green flags he can’t help the uptick in his pulse and the pull of gravity that lures him into smiling almost school-girlishly at the sight of you rubbing the ache from your forehead, lost in the waves of his bed spread.

you’re perfect even if you don’t know it — some kind of lawless and flawless being that could do no wrong in the jewelled eyes of the beholder. 

“party. didn’t invite me so i don’t know what you had.”

“it was a party, am i not supposed to drink?” a cheshire grin blooms amongst your features and compliments the mirthy spark to your sleepy stare as you reply bluntly. if there was any inclination as to how deeply katsuki feels for you, it would be the way his focus flits away from your eye contact and the manner in which rich red blood pools underneath the surface of his cheeks. a blush that catches sunlight and spreads like a flame over oil slick, creeping down to the back of katsuki’s neck.

he rubs at it — akin to how one would smooth over a scab they’re not trying to pick in fear of making it bleed —  as he speaks. intent and careful. “responsibly, sure,” he’s already reaching to pull the covers back and welcome you to the land of the living. you hide, pouting like you’ve been scolded. “you were so shitfaced last night, ‘m surprised you even managed to call me to come pick you up.” 

you don’t like that. the tenderness that sits between curse words and stretching through the comfortable atmosphere of the late morning. to you, katsuki is scary in the kind of way that reminds you of the buzz you feel after watching a horror movie — electric and alive, all fried nerve endings and an impending sense of doom tickling your chest. maybe it’s because he’s so handsome. in the way that causes trouble with the old ladies on floor thirty four of the apartment building or gets the girls tripping over their kitten heels at the agency. maybe it’s because he leans into this natural duty to protect or nurse strays like you back to health. 

genuine fear easily takes residence in your being when bakugou cares for you in the ways you feel you don’t deserve. it’s small, fleeting — almost like the subtle beat of a butterfly's wings or the tickle of your own hair at the nape of your neck. 

katsuki isn’t someone to be afraid of. he’s not some kind of predator lurking in the dark waiting to turn you into a chunk of meat. his affections lap at you in the same way ocean blue does at a sandy shoreline, in soft waves with bubbling white at the owl waiting to be absorbed into porous substrate. he waits, oh, he waits for you to accept all of him as though he were always meant to be yours. 

that’s what frightens you, his gentle dedication. his tired eyes that crystallise when you walk into a room. his heart tattooed in fading ink on his sleeve, waiting for you to take a knife and pierce it with all that you’ve got. 

the thought of accepting his love and returning it had your stomach turning. not because you resent the idea, but because you find yourself warming to it like a steel kettle on a hot stove or a freshly potted sapling winding towards the light in order to grow. it’s as frightening coming face to face with an animal that sees you as nothing more than prey. like a hare standing against a wolf where the odds are hardly in its favour. 

“it’s too early on in the day for you to parent me katsuki and you sound like my dad,” you bite like a snake that has venom poised behind its teeth, regarding the blonde with devious merriment. “bet you like that though, gets you all riled up telling me what to do. acting like my dad. do you want to be? my daddy, katsuki?”

your banter is usually like this, the kind where the dialect crawls underneath his skin through an open wound and spreads uncomfortably in the form of a viral infection. it sticks meagerly to katsuki’s ego in a similar fashion to a postage stamp placed down wrong — where you can’t pick it up by the corner and peel it back, unable to reposition it correctly. in the moment, you’re funny — light on your feet and quick with quips that come easy and aren’t supposed to mean anything aside from serving the purpose of laughter. except, when the coals cool and the time passes you leave a sting that creeps up on the victim, dead before they even know it. straight faced by the time the day is over.

“don’t be like that.” he leans over you, wafting notes of clean pine and smoked applewood, sparking your senses awake, and pushes the side of your head playfully. his touch slides down, careful as it goes, before bakugou cups your cheeks and squishes them twice.“bein’ fuckin’ mean.” 

“sorry daddy.” you grin the same as before. with the air of someone who knows exactly who they are and what they’re doing. you’re a woman who’s made a vexatious habit out of reading people — katsuki is one of them — scouring their worn, aging pages for something that makes them tick. 

by now he’s caught on the game that you play, toying with the knotted mess of his feelings like a feline with her bawl of carmine coloured yarn. the iniquitous version of the red string of fate. he returns to his seat at the edge of the bed,  turning away before you catch the fall in his face. as though the manner in which icarus flew too close to the sun — only to be scorned —  could be captured in his expression, like an artist who carves his wages through stone.

“oh shut up,” bakugou pushes again, no weight behind his hand. controlled because he’s not a man with a temper. the kind you run to when he spends a weekend out of town. “‘m not fuckin’ you ‘n i gotta go to work.” 

“that’s never stopped you before.” you purr, never quite having learned how to be subtle.

hero galas and award-show after parties run rampant through katsuki’s mind — the memories without picture frames because you never stay long enough to keep. alcohol bleeds into the ink, leaving them splotchy where he’d remember the happenings if he were sober. lipstip smudge kiss that taste of plasticky makeup and the bitter pop of champagne 

undeterred by your little mind games and the puzzles you make of the pro hero’s patience — he glances over at you, just for a moment. registers the presence of you helpless in his bed and then suppresses a fond smile, poking his tongue into his cheek. “you’re hungover, that’ll stop me. told you, i care about you.” 

there’s a twang to katsuki’s voice that has always warmed you sweetly. much like honey and buttermilk simmering on a stove. years of drawling and pulling along the vowels braided between their intimidating consonant peers. unhurried and rough around the edges. the way he softly answers you despite the wrath and envy that hides behind the snakelike bite of your words when you speak — he tries not to be loud, in fear his speech may be taken as a curse. the last thing katsuki wants is to scare you away, especially when you make a habit of escaping from his hold like a bird from a net or a gazelle from a hunter. 

you turn silent –  in a manner similar to the creep of the quiet night that sneaks up on her friend, the day – shifting upright and bringing the duvet with you. “don’t need you to,” your fingers curl in the blankets until crescent moons form in your palms through the thinness. you don’t snap, that is what terrifies katsuki more. “and that doesn’t mean you have to baby me.” it’s a childish retort that you add on, one that lands in the pocket of silence beginning to brew at the center of the room. sour like the punch of a lemon when you sip on something citrus. “i’m an adult, we can fuck if i wanna.” 

“but i don’t,” he feels far away when he responds, carefully unveiling his truth to you at a safe distance, to avoid the splinters of your shattering morning. “even if you’re nicer to me when you’re fucked up.” 

a rare joke from him turns you into the cheshire cat.

“you think i’m mean sober. so you prefer me subdued.” you ask, a taunting tone intertwined with the cadence of a person who seeks only to get a rise out of their victim. you pass his

the blonde whips round to face you, not to yell or to “listen. you were drinkin’, i wasn’t there to look out for you and there could have been anythin’ in your system. i was worried about you.” something churns in his stomach and ties his intensities together in some kind of fatal knot guided by a sick sense of anxiety.  it’s the same kind of feeling you. katsuki sighs, shoulders falling as though the strings that master them have been released.  “i don’t wanna argue.”

“me either,” you quip, sensing the defeat. “my head really hurts, kats.”

he softens as you drop the topic. a change in tactics to keep him on his toes, interested in playing the game of chess you’ve laid out for the two of you. his pieces have been stolen, barely anything left on the board since you so eagerly take and take from him. “i know baby,” katsuki supplies in that sugary simple syrup manner that would have any girl twist her ankle in order to get a chance with him. “just, lemme get you some orange juice for your hangover, kay?”

“with bits in it? bleck. you know i don’t like orange juice.” he does. of course katsuki bakugou knows that you hate orange juice with the little floating pieces of fruit flesh and that you prefer the kind of squash you dilate with running water over anything else. he knows that you hate to eat breakfast in the morning because you’re never too hungry, but if he were to cook something up you’d eat it with the same appetite as a grown man. katsuki knows you like the sun burning up high, would know the familiar company of a summer’s day and a clear blue sky — in a way that’s complimentary, two souls tangled by a fine rouge thread, knotted with no loose ends.  

except he finds you tugging at them as though you’re a bird caught in a net — fighting ferociously until you’re too fatigued to taste it. freedom. as though you’re frightened of the calm katsuki could offer you. he dwells on the thought, standing too still amongst a hurricane — biting fear cool against his skin because he’s not entirely sure what he’ll do when he loses your presence beside him simply because you’re not ready for something greater.

his eyes drag away from you, polarised to the wall like a magnet that attracts. “well it’s either that or tomato juice, pick your poison,” katsuki supplies, listening for your tantrum amongst cotton sheets. you settle on the bright, more-fruity counterpart ( because you’ve argued about this before at 3AM whilst he’s been in indonesia for a mission and you've been stuck here — using your spare key to get into his apartment when you’d missed him. tomato, despite its many seeds, isn’t a fruit in your eyes ) and the blonde hauls himself up from the edge of the bed to find his juicer in the kitchen. “that’s what i thought, brat.”

katsuki never leaves you without saying goodbye. a text after patrol to let you know that he’s safe, a kiss on the forehead when he moves from one room to the next, a perfectly wrapped morsel of his soul packed up into a brief, flickering moment all for you. something to keep when the regular rhythm of your body starts to fall out of tune without him, no matter how long or short the time spent apart is — katsuki always gives you something. 

but this morning he leaves the bedroom with his lips pressed into a thin line and the hard set expression of a man who’s worked so much for too little in return — breaking a sweat to undo crossed wires as though there’s a time bomb ticking relentlessly between you that requires a special agent’s touch to figure you out. katsuki isn’t a spy, he isn’t a mind reader and yes, he’s super-human… but in his line of work there are just some people you can never seem to save. maybe you’re one of them and maybe that’s why he feels as though he might need to give up.

you draw your knees to your chest underneath the sheets in order to add pressure to the panic building within — he doesn’t shut you out in the manner that you do with him. katsuki always comes back to pull you out of your own mess as though you’re a wounded animal in need of tending. he’s good like that. he cares about you like that. 

you’re a blender, an emotional one at that, you come with razor sharp, silvering blades that constantly whir like a looming threat. get too close and you’ll lose a piece of yourself, bleed out on cold concrete like a saviour who tried entirely too hard to save someone who didn’t want it. what seems right to him, when it comes to you, is a means to his own demise and death – in this tale, katsuki is a wolf licking crimson blood from a blade poised to kill him, worsening his own wounds inflicted by his own desire for you.

a mere twenty paces away, you listen to him clatter about in the kitchen – juicing fresh fruit for you. from scratch. just to help you feel better. It's a luxury you know that you don’t deserve, a tragedy that you know he’ll play line by line if it means being with you. for a while, you thought yourself invincible, taking advantage of the weakness of men who have hurt you before. yet, katsuki is kind, he warms you, treats you as though you’re flawless to the point where you feel as though you are a physical lie. an apple dealt to adam instead of eve, rotted on the inside and ripe on the out.

bakugou waltzes back into the bedroom not even ten minutes later, freshly squeezed orange juice and two pills in hand to ease away the pain you know doesn’t compare to what lives between each intercostal space protecting his heart and lungs. he says nothing. you say nothing. the room feels like a trap, latent hostility building between the four walls as if it had cemented them together itself.

you inhale, like you’re taking a drag of a cigarette. you don’t want the smoke to clear – you’ll see the heartache in his eyes clearer then.

“are we okay?” you ask with the uneasy focus of someone who feels like her world is out to get her – drown her in the emotional turmoil she’s built. a swig of orange juice and bitter paracetamol clings to the insides of your teeth, causing a similar discomfort to that in the atmosphere. “i feel like… things have been really weird. with you. with me.”  

“no ‘m not. you’re being weird.” he delivers the line with a sharp intensity you’re completely unfamiliar with – like he’s taken on the same skillset, the same precise aim of an adroit sniper, and gone straight for your heart – forcing himself to speak over the blockage in his throat that keeps him from spilling emotions like an oil slick on clean water. 

a wound to the body can easily heal, but one to the heart that keeps pumping, can last a lifetime. you don’t scream out in agony, a wounded soldier on a battlefield – no – you quickly build a defensive shield and strike a strategic attack, because your ego broils brightly underneath the surface of your skin and never settles enough to let your temper just be.  

this time round, you scoff in braggart disbelief. as if you hadn’t expected this, the rain on your make believe parade.  “woah okay, childish.” 

observant as ever, katsuki does not miss the way you roll your eyes over the glass – the spread of your lips seeping into your cheeks as they take the form of a grim lour. something akin to kindling, a match-stick ready to set light to a bomb. this morning you’d promised not to argue, and yet, one catches in the wind that changes course. imminent and ready to detonate this faux relationship you’ve built.

“oh, like you’re not.” the blonde snaps back, sarcasm snaked between syllables. 

“alright then, what’s that supposed to mean, katsuki?”

“you just — ‘m just…” bakugou grapples for a sensible sentence, something to explain away the clouds in his mind that came with you. he hates to admit it, how you unhappiness came into his world soon after you did, bringing with you bouquets of bewilderment and nights where too many things were left unsaid.  “it’s okay for you to tease me and not the other way around?” 

it’s unclear why that sets you off, perhaps its how accusatory bakugou sounds. when he says it like that – calls you out on how hypocritical you can be, your temper flares like a streak of red in the dead of night. a cry for help to anyone watching, to katsuki not to give up on you before you’ve properly started.

“you’re not kidding around though, it’s not funny,” spitting venomously, you let your response rain down on him like acid rain, searing through the thick and guarded armor he thought he had built strong all these years. “you keep calling me mean when that’s how i’ve always been, firey just how you like it. you treat me like i’m made of glass, like you’ve gone soft and keep looking at me like i’m gonna burst into flames!” it keeps going, this gruesome splurge of awful words used to cut at him, and you can’t stop it because you see it working. the manner in which this big, mountainous and explosive man, shrinks away from you as though it burns to be near. “like me, being here is setting you off. almost as though you don’t want me here. and if you don’t, that’s fine, i’ll go. but in the future don’t bring me over if you’re gonna act all avoidant and shit.”

katsuki sits up now, alert, as if his burns have been doused with cold water. his carmine eyes, devoid of the same cruelty you treat him with, are electrified with everything he doesn’t say. loaded with all the ways you’ve hurt him. tears that refuse to fall. “what? was i supposed to leave you there drunk with that fuckin’ asshole? the one you keep fucking when ‘m not around to give you the attention you crave.” the blonde throws a thumb your way, inculpatory. “you don’t get to do that, call me like ‘m some shitty lapdog. then c-call me that fuckin’ name and then act like it’s weird that i want to take care of you.” 

“call you, what, katsuki?”

“course you don’t remember,” bakugou grumbles incredulously, standing from the bed in the same manner someone would flee from the scene of a crime. like he needs to get away from it all. from you. from the jail cell that is your fucked up relationship. “‘m not saying shit. got patrol so ‘m headin’ out.” 

the blonde excuses himself weakly and reaches for his hero costume as a shield.

because maybe, right now, he needs to be dynamight instead of katsuki. he needs to be a hero to save himself.

“katsuki,” you growl to make him stay. “call you, what? say it. it’s on the tip of your tongue.”

the look he gives you is wounded and pleading. the kind only a dying animal could give whilst begging to be put out of its misery — whatever katsuki says now will be blood on your hands, his organs violently spilling into your grip since you’re the only person in his life with enough strength to rip his heart out from behind the doors to his psyche. “your boyfriend. you called me your boyfriend last night and i picked you up and i liked it.” katsuki admits from across the room, at a safe distance from you because confessing feelings to you is akin to stepping on a land mine.

he’s been fighting an internal war since figuring out that he feels for you outside of fucking, wishing like a wistful child on every lucky star that perhaps, you would be able to wave your white flag and admit the same. beyond your own facade, you could maybe trade your heart for his like you would for a trading card. if you’d wanted him the way he wanted you, you’d push your pride away just enough to let yourself believe you could love someone outside of yourself.

 “i liked that you sat in my backseat, on the verge of throwing up and called me your boyfriend…” he supplies in the same way a child would when they make an attempt to be part of adult conversation — rushed in the sense that syllables land awkwardly and vowels tack themselves to the underneath of his tongue it moves around in his mouth, like there’s too much to say to you and not enough time for telling you. “i feel sick just sayin’ i liked that you let me hold your hair back when you did eventually puke your fuckin’ guts out, ‘nd let me shower you ‘nd change your clothes. let me hold you without making it weird, like we’re not supposed to do that shit just because all we do is have sex!”

with every inch he gives, you take, and the consequences nearly choke katsuki bakugou slowly to an unfair death. “i know you won’t ever let me do it again, now that you’re sober, ‘cause that’s not what you want and it’s not what we agreed to. you don’t like lookin’ like you need someone.”

“but i liked it,” bakugou rasps, vocal chords strained like an out of tune guitar — the notes wail into the tense, thickened air. “even if it was only for one fuckin’ night. when you were mine, for just one night. i liked being your boyfriend.” 

he liked being wrapped around your finger, even if it were a noose. 

“but you’re not,” the words of your retort are entirely too harsh and brittle, and they slip out like fine sand through fingertips before you have a chance to stop them. “you’re not my boyfriend.”

“exactly.”

“so what do we do?”

for the first time that morning. you sound scared — reality dawning on you as though you’ve woken up to nothing after dreaming about everything you could have ever wanted.

“dunno, do whatever you want,” he’s so tired of going back and forth. if he knew from the very day your eyes first met – in a similar fashion to two worlds colliding, colours mixing, flowers blooming – that this is what you’d wanted, he would have stayed far away. “you can stay. you know where your things are ‘nd i left you breakfast. in the fridge. bottom shelf where you can reach it.” 

“katsuki, i–” 

he shakes his head, the weight of him in your mind and head and in this very room lifting – as though he were never there. you seal your lips. your true feelings are a sullen, oppressive secret behind your teeth.

katsuki bakugou is stubborn. he always has been. to a fault. “i really gotta go, kay?”

you sink into the sheets, “okay… i’ll call you?” 

the pit in the stomach tells you he’ll wait for your call, you know he will. he’s always been self destructive like that. you’re like a ticking time bomb in the centre of his bed, where he’s supposed to feel safest — just waiting to explode and send shards of shrapnel shaped like daggers directly into his scarred heart and  he’s got no sense of danger. no telling of when you’re going to go off and decimate him. 

“be safe.” you add.

“i will be. i–” katsuki looks back, his tongue pushed to form the shape of love that he quickly abandons as if the weight isn’t crushing his heart in his chest. “… just don’t go anywhere? we’ll talk about this later.”

you nod silently as he leaves. afraid. 

you never do talk. 

you never do stay. 

because he’s certainly not your boyfriend and you’re not his girlfriend either. 

there’s no obligation in that anyway.

end ! likes are appreciated, but just liking doesn’t do much on tumblr! to support and motivate myself and other writers, reply, reblog and comment if you'd like to see more!! — asks are open to thirsts and thoughts! join my taglist ! love you!

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED © TTEOKDOROKI 2020-26. all fanfics & layouts belong to me. do not copy, repost, translate, feed into ai, or recommend elsewhere.

[rotttendollette]

꣑ৎ Izuku Midorya P!links ꣑ৎ

You need a little help being quiet when you’re at his mom’s house

Titty fucking is his guilty pleasure

The size difference between you guys always gets him hard

The type of video you get when you work late

He loves the way your ass bounces when he thrust into you

You’re so needy you can’t wait till you get home you need him now

When he’s had a rough day at work

He loves it when you dress up all pretty for him he just has to reward you

[rebelssvy]

how i imagine haikyuu men in bed ✧.*

WITH TWT LINKS!! be aware..

haikyuu men x reader

⋆·˚ ༘ *

including!! kageyama, ushijima, kuroo, atsumu, osamu, tsukishima, bokuto, iwaizumi and oikawa.

kageyama:

him.

i don’t think he would talk that much. as much as i wish he would he’s definitely big on making you feel good, but concentrating so much he doesn’t say a word.

also big on moaning, he doesn’t realize he’s doing it. you just make him feel so good he can’t help but slip out a couple whimpers.

ushijima:

holy him

he loses his mind at the thought of your pussy. it is his weakness. he tends to always be a little too rough. after care is his specialty.

he never really moans. it’s maybe more of a growl, or groan. not very talkative other than a “yeah..? you like that?” or maybe “are you okay?”

kuroo:

first.

also him

he is such a tease, but at the end of the day he loves making you feel good. he likes a bratty girl that loves to be tamed. if i’m being so honest he also loves public sex. i cannot lie.

also loves being vocal. it comes with all the teasing

atsumu:

him.

i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again. that man is a LOVERBOY and if he is in love with you. your getting the best treatment ever.

he’s vocal about how much he loves you, “yer so pretty baby..” he would moan.

osamu:

him.

i actually believe he is more of a tease then his brother. he loves fucking you hard. maybe in pubic too. like in the back of the onigiri restaurant. fuckkk that turns him on so bad.

bokuto:

him

his whole goal in life is to worship you and make you feel good at any cost. he loves telling you he loves you. he also loves looking at you while you are having sex. his dick gets hard at the thought of you. he also cums at the thought of you cumming. he’s just in love with you

tsukishima:

fuck him

he goes faint in the head at the thought of your pussy all spread for him to play with. definitely a tease, definitely more vocal. but at the same time he really does love you and he’s not evil.

he loves it when you cum on his fingers.

iwaizumi:

this guy fucks

he is sweet but also a little rougher. i don’t see him being completely vanilla. definitely into all the all smacks and spit. makes the air heavy if he spits in your mouth.

loves jealous sex, “which you like more huh? this dick or him..?”

oikawa:

this screams him.

a big switch, he loves your boobs no matter the size. i do think he’s definitely whiny in bed. talkative sometimes but it really depends.

comment who you want to see in part two

TAGLIST:

@sunny-milla @bakugouswaif

here to be added to taglist

[tokkushin]

꒰ WATERPROOF MASCARA — izuku midoriya ꒱ ⸝⸝ .ᐟ

cw : female reader, rough sex, readers a brat, unprotected sex, pwp, dacryphillia, spoiled reader, pet names !

this is … excessive.

that’s the only thing izuku can think of as he watches you from his spot on the bed, eyes bright and curious as you gaze into the mirror.

"what's this?" he sighs, moving the papers aside as he watches you fiddle with the plastic tube. he squints as you bring the wand to your lashes, eyes wide and mouth agape as you brush in careful strokes.

"waterproof mascara" you smile, pumping the wand in its tube before bringing it back up to your eyes, "bought it earlier today."

he blinks — his paperwork suddenly far less intriguing than it'd been for the last thirty minutes. izuku doesn't know much about makeup, but what he does know, is no one should have this much.

"mascara?” he starts, dragging his feet towards you, “don't you already have some of those..."

your gaze follows his, shelves full of makeup on your vanity suddenly mocking — colourful tubes and bright lettering decorating every surface.

"yeah, but this one's waterproof..." you lie, hoping he may have forgotten all the others you'd bought for the same reason.

sure, you had a couple, maybe a few more than the regular person should have — but trial and error is expensive, let alone the humiliation of raccoon eyes on a night out.

green orbs find yours through the glass of the mirror, a knowing gaze etched on his face that only meant trouble. the tubes stripped from your grasp, quickly confiscated and wound tight in izuku's hand.

"waterproof, huh?" he mutters, staring at the product like a shiny new toy. his fingers brush past your shoulder as he points to another, "just like this one is? and this one?"

his mockery only sets you off, plucking the tube from his hand to tuck it away in your vanity.

"none of them work, izu. they just get all streaky and it ruins my face when i'm out with the girls ... i'm just checking for false advertising!" you huff, arms circled over his shoulders as you peer at him through decorated lashes. "don't you want me to look pretty?"

and izuku knows he shouldn't give in, shouldn't be a pushover just as he has been in times like these. but if his girl needs help, who is he to deny you?

"of course i do."

scarred hands trail the curvature of your body, tugging the hem of your shirt just enough to catch a glimpse of your bra. "but can't you look pretty without funding the entire company with my debit card?"

the smile on your face is answer enough, triumphant and cocky, like you knew just as well as he did that his complaints would fall on deaf ears.

even as you move him towards the soft sheets and press your body into his, he knows its only your feeble attempt to distract — a facade you both know he'll give in to the second your hand palms him through his sweats.

well, if he was buying the mascara, he deserved to test it just as much as you, no?

"i-izu .. izu, please—" you choke out a whine, face smushed against the pillows as you try to keep up. his pace is relentless — every slap of skin a punishing rhythm that brings tears of pleasure to your eyes.

the sheen on his face matches yours, green curls stuck to his forehead as he pants against your lips. warm breath mixing as he looks at you with a dazed stare.

“only the best for you, right? so we gotta — mmm — test it”

your eyes shut in pure bliss, lips caught between your teeth as you lose yourself on the way his hips slam into your wet cunt. a broken gasp slips free when he trails a hand down your front — squeezing over the valley of your breasts until it reaches your swollen nub.

the dam breaks.

"there it is" he coos, smile plastered on his face as a scarred hand swipes at your cheeks, flecks of black mixing with your tears. "think you can—fuck— you can count this one out too, princess"

the roll of his hips mixed with the circles on your swollen nub sends you into a haze, a feverish heat burrowing it's way into your chest as you writhe underneath him.

your fingers trench harder into the pillow, blackened tears forming a pool underneath you.

“izu-izuku, please. please.‘m gonna cum—“

the familiar coil building in your tummy as he moves against you in short, sloppy thrusts —each one forcing you deeper into the sheets. you splutter as he blanks a hand against your head, fingers entangled with the soft tendrils as he grunts against the shell of your ear.

the feeling only makes your cunt flutter, squeezing his length like a vice as tears spill down your cheeks.

“gonna have t’find one that can handle me, hm?” he starts, lips ghosting over yours as he speaks. “its okay, princess. i’m here to help now”

and if it meant you’d get to test them all like this - with the sheets stained black and your face smushed into the pillow…

you might need to add some more to your list.

© — tokkushin : all rights reserved. all works belong to me .ᐟ pls do not repost/copy, or feed into ai.

only slightly proof read cause i’m still getting my hair done… pls ignore the formatting im on fuckass mobile </3

[nymless]

almost i love you

pairing : band guitarist tsukishima kei x reader

synopsis : you and kei agreed to keep things casual—no strings attached. but he finds himself slipping almost-confessions that he always swallows at the last second

content: 18+. nsfw — smut. a lot of plot. friends with benefits. smoking — cigs after sex. public sex. choking. fingering. car sex. unprotected sex.

word count: 14k

note: not proof read + didn’t want to make separate parts

"you staying for the bands?"

your thinking process resets when you hear your friend, yachi, ask beside you. she's all over your ear and it doesn't take a lot to even notice her. you swallow a lump in your throat, turning the pen in your hand when you think about her question.

there's a soft hum in the night wind, it's a bit chilly but nothing that your denim jacket can't block. you look up to the stage where the lights are dimmed and the college interschool festival are preparing for the next segment — the showdown of the bands.

the sound of it all echoes in your ears — the wind rustling, the lights flickering, your pen spinning, and the faint chattering of the students behind and all around you.

you turn your wrist around to check your analog clock. it read 8:37. you wonder if it's too late already or should you stay to enjoy the rest of the festival. you look at yachi beside you, opting to ask her if she's staying.

"are you?" she thinks for a while but nods her head after a while. "yep. hinata's staying anyway, and he has a ride. if you need one, i'll ask him for you."

ah right, hinata. yachi's close friend because they've been classmates since high school. you've only became closer to yachi just this college — first person who approached you after you moved to this unfamiliar place.

you shake your head, furrowing your eyebrows. "no, no. no need. i'll take the train. it's just one ride anyways." you purse your lips into a thin line, giving her an assuring smile and she nods her head.

you both look back to the stage, it was far away from where you two sat. away from the crowd that formed right behind the barricade of the main stage. the speaker buzz frequency trials and the mic echoes, they've began sound checks.

there's was a group in front, tuning their guitars until the sound director told them it's all good.

a familiar figure catches your eye — tall, blond, and lean. you wonder where you've seen him before but no specific situation comes into mind. but you do remember him somewhere.

you nudge yachi's elbow, "hm?" you point towards the stage, swaying your finger left to right, gesturing towards the group that is preparing this instruments. "aren't those... uh, hinata's friends? i think i've seen them around him before..."

yachi squints her eyes, focusing her vision to see the people on the stage more clearly. with folded arms she hums, "oh yeah, one of them's my friend." she nods convincingly, "they're probably the reason why hinata's staying."

among the band members, one struck out to you. his fingers expertly tune out the guitar he's holding, one is strumming with mastery while his eyes remain hyperfocused on the sound director who is giving him instructions. but when he's unsatisfied, he sternly asks the sound director that his guitar sound be amplified.

and that, somehow, was attractive to you.

you look away immediately when you get too absorbed in the view in front of you. all more reason is when you can't even see his face clearly because the lights are still dimmed and you're too far away to even catch a glimpse of the light in his eyes. but his figure, it tells you everything that you need to know.

you glance at yachi, scrolling down on her phone, and for a second you consider asking her for his name. but you realize that she might not know him, after all they're hinata's friends, not hers.

but what if she knows—

"what's his name?" startled by your sudden question, yachi jumps before looking at you and towards where your gaze is directed. she catches your view — the band's electric guitarist in the flesh.

yachi squints again, but this time, it's a teasing gesture towards you. because she knows this man all too well, and the fact that you're asking for a name invites her to tease you for it.

"tsukishima kei, close friend of me and hinata." she tells you and the name blurs out in your ears.

even the name sounds attractive.

your mind betrays your expression on the outside — nonchalant and laid-back, as if you've got no hidden intentions behind it.

yachi nudges you to the side and you lose balance when you realize that you've been too absorbed in your thoughts. she chuckles, a teasing sound of "oooh" coming out of her lips. her eyes are smiling too, amused by this and everything else.

typical yachi, quick to give malice to everything.

"why? you like him?" she drops the question and you furrow your eyebrows. you don't know why but you've become so defensive to a normally asked question. and when you answer, there's a scowl on your face, "no way. i can't even see his face."

yachi is not convinced and her teasing just continues. but it dies down when you stop talking about it.

but that doesn't necessarily mean that you've stop stealing glances. not when he's down from the stage and he's now staying with this group at the side, leaning against the barricade with his guitar bag on one shoulder. phone on one hand, scrolling and his glasses are reflecting the light from his phone.

this time, you can actually see just a tad bit of his face. you can see his eyes now, hidden beneath the transparency of his glasses. and his lips, pursed into a tight line as he focuses on whatever he's busying himself on his phone.

he towers over everyone else on his team. and he's quiet, only giving out snide remarks to hate on his members playfully.

he's occupied with his phone but he listens to their rambles — the way that he smirks and chuckles to every joke the group throws albeit his eyes still on his phone is proof of his attentiveness.

you catch yourself looking over at them once in a while and you can't help but let your gaze linger a little bit longer on him. every member looked interesting — they all similar fashion senses. but something about this blond man who hovers over everyone else there because of his height just pulls you in.

you lean back against the chair you're sitting on and groan, "when is it starting, yachi?" you hum out in impatience, staring at the bright moon above and the stars indicating that there would be no rain coming.

yachi hums beside you, and gestures to the side of the stage. "they're drawing lots. it must be starting in a few minutes." you sit back up to see the leaders of each team drawing lots to determine the order of performances.

"i hope they play first." you sound out and yachi hums, not quite catching what you said. but you realize what you're saying and you shake your head, telling her that it's nothing.

in the end, they play last.

hinata arrives in the scene and you nod your head at him, not feeling quite comfortable because you're not all that close with him. you talked here and there, but you've never been this close to him.

"you like watching live bands too?"

just between the moment of having to been caught up by your train of thoughts and paying attention to your surroundings, hinata's unfamiliar voice pulls you out. he's leaning towards yachi to face you and you don't process his words immediately — too surprised that he initiated a conversation with you.

you nod your head, choosing to say yes. "if i get the chance too, yeah." the tone is casual and you wonder if you've made a new friend. but with hinata, comfort is easy. he's a natural.

yachi shoots to look at hinata after realizing something. "so right, hinata, [name] here likes tsukishima." her words echo like the reverberating speakers inside your ear and you can't find any opening to deny what she just said when hinata begins to make a big deal out of it.

he yells out a, "whaaaaat?" prolonged and emphasized. the least you can do is shake your head and put your hand out to defend yourself from this nonsense of a rumor that yachi is starting.

the speaker hisses with feedback and the mic echoes when the host speaks on the stage catching each and everyone's attention. the outdoor stadium is loud with the crowd cheering when the segment is finally starting. you and the two's attention now drifting away from the situation and focusing on the host.

"all right, this is everyone's favorite segment! the showdown of the bands! the order of performance is as follows—"

the monitor up front shows the list of bands performing and their band name is written as the last performer.

you catch hinata slumping on his seat. "sucks, why do they have to perform last? this is going to be such a long wait." he complains but yachi consoles him. "hey now, we might enjoy the others. besides, isn't it better that they're last—save the best for last, they say." she raises an eyebrow, proud of her reasoning.

you pursed your eyes shut, sleep slowly taking over you. you glance at your watch and see it has already clicked 9 in the evening. and the fact that they're only starting doesn't help.

mid-performance, your head is bopping up and down and you realize that you're falling asleep. you don't know how many groups have performed or how long you are into the segment.

yachi notices you from her peripheral vision and chuckles. "you wanna go home?" she whispers but she catches hinata's attention too. "need a ride? i can give you one." hinata offers upon seeing your eyes heavy with sleep already.

the loud sound of the drums echoing in your ears but it's still not enough to grip you out of your tiredness. you shake your head, telling them there's no need. "i'll finish the showdown. i just need uhm..." you think for a while and your eyes catch a sweets kiosk. "yeah, that will do the job."

you stand up from where you stood, leaving hinata and yachi alone to watch the performance of another group while you tend to your sleepiness and opting to buy something sweet to wake yourself up.

it's a waffle stand, with choices of toppings and syrups. you order something that will definitely wake you up, along with a can of soda. just when you were about to pay, you realize that you left your wallet in your bag. your bag which you left in yachi's care.

that was all it took for you to wake up. you are too embarrassed to even tell the seller because she already had your order wrapped up.

but divine intervention, "here you go." a voice sounds out and you look up — your mind shatters into a million pieces and your heartbeat picks up. no sleep left in your system.

the seller takes the money from the man and you've now essentially borrowed money from someone you don't know.

except you do know this person.

blond hair, tall figure, and a glasses tucked in his ears. it's not hard to recognize when all you've been doing to tonight aside from fighting back sleep was steal glances to this man.

"thank you. but you didn't have to do that." you call out to him, tone low and filtered with shame and embarrassment that you had someone, especially him, pay for your food. he merely shrugs, "noticed your struggle."

you look away and you can't bring yourself to look at him. the waffle is hot on one hand and your soda is cold on the other. you feel your cheeks are warm and the coldness of the wind brushes up against you making your loose trousers sway. silence engulfs briefly before the crowd cheers loudly, signalling that the current performance had ended.

"oh shit," you hear him curse. he quickly puts his wallet back into his pocket before turning around. but he stops mid-way, "uh, you can pay me back anytime—hinata's friend right? good to know we have a mutual." he tells you before running off towards the side of the main stage and in between where the barricades meet.

how does he know you're acquianted with hinata though?

you thank the seller before rushing off back to your seat as the next performance—their performance—is about to begin. you hand yachi your soda, telling her to take a sip because you know she hasn't let a single drop of fluid enter her mouth ever since the event started.

"hey, [name]." yachi calls out after she has gulped down half the soda. you hum, turning to face her. "need something that'll surely wake you up?" she asks and you wonder, tilting your head to the side, acknowleding her to continue.

"get tsukishima's number after this." your eyebrows furrow almost immediately. baffled by the nonsense dare she told you.

you instantly shake your head, "don't be ridiculous." you tell her, "even if i do ask, i don't know anything about him—he might have a girlfriend or something."

"no way." yachi cuts in, "tsukishima doesn't have one."

everything is silent for a few seconds and in that time range, you consider yachi's words.

you give up thinking about it when the stadium lights begin to flicker. yachi pats your thighs excitedly as she repositions to face the stage. you do the same, and the next thing you hear is the drums blaring in your ears as an intro.

the distortion from the amplifiers loudens when the guitarist strums harshly. you try and squint your eyes to filter out the blinding lights to see who is who—and alas, the one currently strumming the intro is him. his guitar is wailing with every strum, and the drums pick up the rhythm when the bass crawls under your skin.

it's starting.

and even though the electrifying sound resonates harmony from all sorts of instruments, your ears blur them all out and the lead guitar sounds louder than any instrument. and your eyes can only focus on one person.

he holds his guitar low on his waist, finger strumming and plucking with expertise. they're long, you notice. and he is pale. you start noticing every bit now that he's under the spotlight. his guitar is embellished with his personality—decorated with stickers and doodled on with names and signatures.

and with the way he's performing, you can really say that he loves what he's doing.

but your thoughts whisper to you, he's very attractive.

the vocalist hypes up the crowd and from your peripheral vision, you could see that yachi and hinata are into it as well. but you can't seem to find your own tempo. you can't bring yourself to jump around and cheer outloud when your thoughts are occupied with the thought of him and his guitar.

all you can see is him and everything else is blurry.

and that's all that you can remember—your attention solely focused on him for the entirety of the performance.

the next second, you're in an unavoidable situation because apparently hinata is close with all of the members.

they all gather after the performance, walking over to us. to where hinata is. immediately throwing inside jokes while congratulating them for doing a great job.

"you did really well!" hinata yells out the moment they are closer. you and yachi distance yourselves a bit, letting circle of friends chat with each other to let their nerves down.

tsukishima stood behind the others. sweat dripped down from his forehead and his shirt is a tad bit see through from the sweat that accumulated during their hyped up performance. he held his guitar in one hand, settling it to lean against a chair before wiping his sweat with a handkerchief. and you are all too aware of it.

he's still riding the high, the adrenaline of performing such piece. and you can see it with the way he's catching his breath and his fingers slightly trembling with the intense strumming he had done.

yachi nudges you. huffing to herself as she indirectly gestures to tsukishima. you turn your head to her with furrowed eyebrows and in disbelief.

she's really into whatever she's trying to start.

"go on." she whispers to you and reluctance washes over you because for a second there, you're considering doing it—getting his number and all.

you bite your lip back, wondering if you should let the midnight impulse get to you or be mature and think of the consequences that is waiting for you if you give in.

but no, the moon is bright and the skies are dark. and you are too star-struck to even think properly. who would miss such a chance to seize the opportunity in front of you?

and besides, you've missed the thrill of doing whatever you are about to do.

"hey."

you call out and he looks to your side, assuming that you've called him. and when he sees you looking up at him, he raises an eyebrow. his actions intimidate you. you were not expecting such a dominant vibe from him—not when he was just paying for your food back then because he claimed he saw you struggling.

"about the money," you start and he listens. turning his body to the side to face you, giving you, what some would call, undivided attention. "i don't have spare change right now, so..." you feel embarrassment creep up again. "can i just have your number so i can transfer it back?"

the air stills between you two for a second before tsukishima’s shuffling through his pockets, fishing for his phone. once it’s out, he gestures that you show yours too so that you can exchange numbers. “oh, right.”

you both take each other’s phones, typing in your personal numbers. when you get your phone back it’s unreal, because yachi is snickering behind you and you feel everything all at once.

“same number i use for my transactions, just send it to me anytime.” he clicks his phone off after saving your number.

you nod your head, “thank you.” you finally express, after feeling bothered the whole performance because you haven’t thanked him properly. he shrugs his shoulders, feeling nonchalant about the whole thing.

“you were good tonight.” your words startle him is all, because his eyes suddenly widen. he’s not expecting this small talk at all.

he looks back at you and you weren’t looking at him at all. a snicker makes its way to his lips and his knack for teasing gets activated. only meeting for the first time but both of you are feeling frisky so what is there to lose?

“oh yeah?” the mocking lilt in his voice pulls you out of your bashful state and your head shoots up to come in eye-contact with him. there’s a smile on his lips and you don’t know what he’s up to with that oddly attractive smirk plastered on his face.

you decide to play along, “oh gee, you’ve got your head in the clouds now that someone complimented you.” you mock back and tsukishima scoffs at this, taking your playful offense as an invitation for a banter.

“real, because i was the one who asked for someone’s number here.” he fires back and your expression is incredulous when you hear him say that.

“would you be okay if i didn’t pay you back then?” you huff out, offended with his words but tsukishima merely laughs.

the banter came naturally, and the teasing along with feign offense. it came off easy. and you’ve missed feeling like this. so everything just blurs out in the background because you’re having the time of your life bantering with the expert electric guitarist you’ve had your eyes on since soundcheck.

it doesn’t take long for the group to finally adopt you and yachi.

when hinata begins taking you along to hang outs with the group, it’s mostly just you with yachi, hinata and his two other friends—tsukishima and kageyama. the four were close friends since high school so you were hesitant at first, but tsukishima made it all so easy.

especially when his mission in life right now is to get on your nerves every time you two see each other.

thanks to the continuous teasing, and similar humor, you found yourself feeling rather closer to tsukishima than the others in the group. and he too, found himself laughing more often when you were around to play along with the jokes that only you two share.

“oh look, it’s miss. who haven’t paid me for the waffle she bought last interschool festival.”

you wanted to drag it for long because you liked having a reason to talk to him. and it worked—the mere waffle became the reason why you two get to have something to talk about.

you glare at him for the long nickname he’s given you. he towers over you with a smirk on his face. eyeing you carefully, reciprocating the glare you’re giving him with playful intentions.

you roll your eyes before taking a seat on the bench beside yachi, “i’m not paying you anymore. i’ve decided.” you scoff away, crossing your arms against your chest and tsukishima lets out a huff in disbelief but the smile never leaves.

“and why is that?” he asks, tone a bit lower than usual. he props his elbow on his knee to lean forward, taking a good look at you without having yachi or hinata in the way. you side-eye him, “because you’re giving me that bad attitude.”

tsukishima chuckles at this, “thank you for noticing. i’m honored to be the subject of your observations.” he teases and you can’t help but smile because it’s witty and it takes a lot to even know that it’s subtle flirting.

the background noises take over the situation and when tsukishima sits straight up, you avert your gaze towards the view in front of you—the entirety of the campus. green grass, college students all over the place, and the antique building standing tall surrounding the field.

“speaking of,” yachi breaks the peaceful silence, “hinata, your birthday is coming up.” she turns to look at hinata who merely nodded his head, blankly looking up ahead.

kageyama quips in with a hum, “any plans?”

but there’s nothing. a second passes by, then a minute. a tumbleweed passing by when the vibe gets awkward with the silence taking over after a question.

hinata does not speak. his eyes are unblinking as he looks up front, obvious that his mind is blank. lips unmoving without any sign of speaking up any time soon.

yachi groans. “don’t tell me you don’t have any plans, hinata!” she puts both of her hands flat on his broad shoulders and flapping him in and outwards as if to snap him out of his thoughtless trance. “don’t be such a killjoy, hinata! your birthday is on a weekend, make the best of it!”

but hinata has ran out of creative juices, and no matter how hard she convinces him, he can’t think of anything fun to do on his birthday.

“let’s just crash his apartment and drink the night away.” kageyama leans back the bench, looking up the sky after nonchalantly suggesting the best idea to hinata’s ears.

hinata perks up to this and immediately turns to look at kageyama with stars for eyes. “you’re actually a genius, kageyama!” he exclaimed, clutching kageyama’s hands in his making the ravenette lean back in surprise to the suddenty of the close distance.

“invite the band, tsukki.” hinata calls out, a smile plastered across his face as excitement slowly takes over him—the idea of having a party with nothing but friends and drinks after one hell of an academic week tasted like a drug.

tsukishima leans back the bench, sighing out before complaining, “too much work. invite them yourself. it’s your birthday.” he waves his hand towards hinata’s direction, an emphasis for the trouble he sees in inviting his bandmates. hinata rolls his eyes at this, “fine.”

you lean back against the bench too, letting your head fall against the rest. you turn your head to the side and the material is cold to your ears but you immediately warm up when you meet tsukishima’s eyes almost immediately. he’s in the same position as you—both of you looking at each other’s direction. the contact lasts for a while until tsukishima decided to be an asshole and shoot you a mocking smirk. with that, you immediately sit back up.

then all of the sudden, everything—and you mean from head down to your ankles—is hot and warm and unfamiliar to the feeling.

it’s hinata’s birthday and you’re dressed casually when you meet with yachi so that you can go together. the night is young, and the skies are filled with stars—an indication that rain won’t be coming to crash the party. and everything else feels the same as how you did when you stayed for the night to watch tsukishima play.

you arrive to hinata’s apartment in no less than ten minutes, and when you do, his apartment is packed. suddenly, you feel all too out of place when you see unfamiliar faces from corner to corner. and the fact that yachi knows them all doesn’t help your outsider syndrome. when you follow her to greet everyone else with a polite bow while she gives them a friendly hug, you feel like leaving.

“hey,” a voice interrupts your inner argument and you turn around sharply to see tsukishima holding two glasses of drink. and as always, a smirk is plastered on his lips.

the frown on your lips is quick to be replaced with a smile that mirrored his. reaching your hand out when he offers the other drink to you. you show him a toothy smile when he brings your glasses together for a toast.

“thank you.” you loll out with your lips protruding out to take a sip of the drink. it’s rich and the alcohol tastes bitterly sweet on your tongue. there’s a hiss coming to shred your throat into pieces but that’s the best part, because you get to meet eyes with tsukishima who had just gulped his glass down.

he raises his eyebrows, reaching out to take the empty glass from you. a lazy smirk rested on his alcohol-stained lips. “want more?” he asks and you nod your head.

he gestures that you follow him to wherever the mini bar was located in hinata’s apartment. leaving yachi to catch up with her other friends. you followed behind tsukishima and you are all too aware of the denim jacket he’s wearing that emphasizes the broadness of his shoulders and the leanness of his figure.

when you two reach the kitchen where the other drinks were, he immediately opens a new bottle and points that you sit down on one of the high stools. he sits beside you and pours you a glass.

cheers, and you both down another glass.

his cheeks are getting redder and you see his features glow in the dim light of the kitchen. you bite your lips as you look down when the alcohol begins to hit. your vision is blurry and when you see hinata and the others coming to crash your solo drinking session with tsukishima, you’re relieved. because you really need to take a break from the rotation.

“hey, don’t leave us out.” hinata pouts, running over yo where tsukishima is seated and takes a seat beside him so that tsukishima can pour him a glass.

“to the birthday boy.” he raises a glass, “happy birthday.”

you grin brightly at the scene and the party goes wild when hinata gets a sip of his nth glass for the night. everything feels alive and you start feeling hot when the kitchen is full of lively people asking for glass after glass.

you get too absorbed in the atmosphere that you didn’t even notice tsukishima’s absence. you pat your pockets for a cig and when you feel two sticks you sigh out. feeling overwhelmed with everything, you decided to excuse yourself for a smoke.

exiting through the front door, deciding to smoke on the patio. but when you open the door, you see tsukishima there, leaning against a pillar, cigarette in between his fingers as he puffs out the smoke.

“you smoke?” your voice catches him off guard and he makes a lousy attempt to clear the smoke he just puffed out. you chuckled at this, “don’t worry.” you show him the stick of cigar you’re holding between two fingers, indirectly telling him that you smoke too.

you pat your pockets again for a lighter as the cold concrete of the pillar next to tsukishima hits your back. but you groan out when you feel nothing like the lighter you owned.

“aw shit, i forgot my lighter.”

tsukishima snickers at this, smoke leaving his lips when he does and you see how his chest moves down with the exhale he does.

you stare at him for a few second while he puts the material in between his lips, inhaling that bitter taste of nicotine. he lets it linger inside his system for long before puffing out the smoke, and his eyes are half-lidded when he does.

he's enjoying this.

“you got one?” you ask him. reaching your hand out to borrow a lighter but he only looks at you.

he places his hand down, letting the ashes of the cigarette fall onto the concrete floor.

he licks his lips and he tastes the bitterness there. for a second, you’re expecting that he gives you his lighter to borrow when he reaches out his hand, but no. instead, you’re met with a half-smoked cigarette in front of you.

he nods his head towards it and you’re left dumbfounded. what are you supposed to do with his half-smoked cigar?

“you know usually people would offer a lighter, not their own cigarette.” you laugh out before tossing your stick back into your pockets to take his lit up, half-smoked one.

you bring it to your lips and inhale the relieving feeling of the smoke engulfing your throat.

you hear him snicker beside you, “yeah but i’m not ‘usual people’ aren’t i?”

you roll your eyes at this before letting the smoke leave your lips with a cough. it’s unfamiliar to you. “your stick is so damn bitter.” you furrow your eyebrows at him, showing your disapproval with the brand that he uses.

he reaches his hand out again, this time, holding your hand that held the cigarette and placing it between his lips to take in a good amount and huffing it out before releasing your hand.

you’re startled with the gesture, he’s so close when he smoked the cigarette. so close that you heard him inhale in the substance. your cheeks are flushed and you don’t know from what—from the drinks, from the smoke, or from the distance.

nonetheless, tsukishima is amused.

“you wanna try something new?” he offers and you wonder what he’s up to. curious of what he means by new, you nod your head.

he looks at you before scratching his neck, leaning back to think about it first. frustrated with the way he’s beating around the bush, you rolled your eyes. “come on, do it. you’re taking too long.” you groaned.

he chuckles at this but he asks anyways, “you sure?” it’s a permission disguised as a regular question.

you pursed your lips out, now even more curious with how careful he’s acting. you shrug your shoulders, “yeah.”

it doesn’t take him long before he’s bending a tad bit down. taking your hand—the one holding the cigarette—in his and inhaling in smoke from the almost finished cigarette. he lets go and the smoke hovers on the roof of his mouth as he’s gesturing you to come closer. his fingers moving and you do what you’re told to.

when you both get on a closer distance, he wraps one hand around your neck. using his strength to pull you in and it doesn’t take him a lot because your body is obliging to him.

for a split second, you’re confused. but when the smoke enters your own mouth, you realize what he’s doing. his lips are locked and pressed against your tightly, not allowing any speck of smoke to leak. he’s essentially kissing you, if not passing the smoke from mouth-to-mouth.

your eyes widen but you feel relief when you feel the substance hit your throat. tsukishima’s eyes are open, staring at you while he pulls the most outrageous stunt.

when you both let go, you instinctively lick your lips. a smile making its way to your face when you see tsukishima smirking down on you, seemingly proud of what he has done.

“just say you want to kiss me, why go through all that trouble?” and you never miss the chance to tease the situation.

tsukishima rolls his eyes at this, “alright.” he mocks back with the same energy.

but he takes it seriously.

he puts an arm around your shoulders before pulling you upwards, forcing you to be on your tippy toes. he leans down and just when he’s inches away from kissing you, he stops. the close distance without contact frustrates you and he doesn’t miss the way your lips are pouting, desperate for contact.

“no strings?” he raises an eyebrow.

“no way.” you reply.

and when you do, his lips land on yours. and it’s honestly sexy that you two are sharing a kiss in the middle of the night, outside your friend’s apartment, with the road right in front of you.

the arm that he had wrapped around you tightens with the desperation that seeps out of the kiss you two are sharing out of impulsivity. your hand lets go of the cigarette and it dies down when it hits the concrete hard. with empty hands, your arms wrap themselves around his waist, pulling him closer when the kiss begins to feel deeper.

and it doesn’t help when tsukishima begins pushing you and you begin to stumble in your steps. the ground is level and after a few steps, you two are hidden in plain sight in the dark corner of hinata’s apartment.

he pushes you against the wall of the apartment, one hand on your waist and the other attached to the wall beside your head. you on your tippy toes and him bending a tad bit down. no matter how much you try, the height difference still yells.

and it turns tsukishima on—how the size difference between you two is making him look so much bigger. and you swear, while in this position, tsukishima’s broad shoulders block you out of everyone’s view.

his lips never leave yours until he begins to feel the lack of air. a string of saliva is connecting you both and whilst catching for air, he pushes away a strand of hair off your forehead and everything feels so intimate all of the sudden. shying away, you bury yourself onto his chest when you lean towards him.

he chuckles and you feel the vibration against his chest.

“do you wanna…” you whisper out, biting back your embarrassment. “continue?” but you need it. especially when he’s so good at kissing it leaves you wanting for more.

“never knew you were into voyeurism, [name].” typical tsukishima, never misses the chance to make fun of you and your freaked out state.

you paw against him, desperate to ease the ache forming in between your thighs. “it’s dark—nobody’s going to see us.”

he snickers at your words, one hand trailing down to your lower back and he begins to caress slowly. its achingly slow, it's making you look pathetic. he chuckles lowly and it echoes in your ears, the hand you held against his chest vibrating along. his other hands repositions and it settles firmly on your shoulder blade, as if grounding you to listen to him.

“are we really doing this?” he leans down a bit, eyes searching for yours—asking for a verbal affirmation from you. his eyes, albeit filled with excitement, were still laced with worry. doubting whether you’re completely sane or did the alcohol kick in.

you shake your head before slipping out a mumbled, “yeah.” your breath hitches, alcohol swirling in and all around your system like an aphrodisiac making you desperate for tsukishima’s touch. “come on, you said it yourself: no strings attached.”

he rolls his eyes before finally giving in when he’s got your affirmation. he’s much of a gentleman to attend to your needs, after all.

a hand slips off of your shoulder and his calloused fingertips—from excessive strumming—touch your skin featherlight. they aren’t unpleasant to the touch, if anything, they are magnetic. continuously intoxicating you to desire for more.

his fingers act on their own and before he knows it, he’s got you in a chokehold. your eyes are lidded when he tilts you upwards so that you can meet eyes. a proud smile resting on his lips when your position yells out possessiveness.

he tightens it and he watches your eyes roll back to your head. using his strength, he pulls you in. sticking his tongue out before closing the gap between you two. you held against his wrist, tip toeing to press yourself against him even more.

your lips move in perfect sync, his tongue swirling against yours, saliva mixing with perfectness. he tastes sweet like the alcohol that you’ve been drinking. but there’s a hint of bitterness, the smoke lingering in the back of his throat.

he’s irresistible.

he doesn’t pull back. instead, he moves down. his lips touch your chin and your neck. he leans your head to the side so he can kiss along every skin exposed until your clothes get in the way.

he bends down, kissing against the bone of your clavicles. he looks up at you briefly, with slits for eyes and the lust is obvious—you’ve got him turned on. your hand makes its way to your chest, trying to unbutton your blouse—it’s a lame attempt because your fingers are trembling. but he stops you, swatting your hand away to do the job himself.

with one hand, he unbuttons the few first buttons of your blouse. when he does, he’s met with the view of your naked body. your breasts are covered with the privacy of your lace bra.

he can’t help but groan. to tease, you jerked your hips upwards, only to be met with his aching erection pressing against your inner thighs.

he hisses when he feels you against him, he harshly pushes you behind. “let’s go slow, yeah? i’m trying my best here.” he cackles out sarcastically while his hand caresses your nape, touch dripping with sensuality.

the softness lasted for a fleeting amount of time when tsukishima suddenly inserts his hand inside of your blouse. his warm hand roaming to explore every inch of your bare back, he pinches a fleshy part and laughs out mockingly when you hiss. it doesn’t take long before his fingers tug on the lace of your bra. he watches as you bite down your lips as he unclasps it with ease.

“hm, you seem experienced.”

he merely shrugs at this. your bra is loose, the strap being the only thing that’s keeping your breasts covered. he relocates his big hand, this time going under your bra and palming you underneath your clothes. your nipples are perked up below his calloused hands, he gropes and pinches them, taking in satisfaction when your face contorts with pleasure from his insane handwork.

“you like that?” he asks, raising one eyebrow while his voice is low and seductive to your ears. you mindlessly nod your head, overtaken with immense delight after having been touched lightly.

you don’t know the reason behind your over sensitivity but you’re certain that you want more.

tsukishima lowers down his head, you have your eyes closed making you unaware of what he’s about to do. but when you hear your blouse unbutton the rest of the buttons restricting him from a view, you’re eyes shoot up. your surprise is fueled even more when he latches onto you without notice.

his teeth graze your nipples and it’s driving you crazy. so instead of reprimanding him, your agape lips let out a sound of bliss. a hitched moan, choked just right below your throat—indication that he caught you off guard.

you squirm beneath him and he adjusts. he breathes out when he detaches from you, your hands trembling when they land on his shoulders. he looks you dead in the eye, “do we continue?”

and you shamelessly nod your head.

he scoffs out a contemptuous laugh, finding the way you’re practically begging for dick ridiculous.

but he wastes no time in repositioning his hand so that they rest on your inner thighs. with little struggle, he pushes them apart—your skirt flapping open—and you’re spread out leaning against a wall—it strains you a bit but nothing too much for what is about to happen.

he keeps a knee in between your own, keeping your legs apart before he brushes his fingers against the bareness of your skin. and he reaches your cloth-covered pussy and he hisses out when he feels the wet patch on it.

“you’re actually so fucking needy for this.” he huffs out in disbelief.

you roll your head back, moaning out softly when he brushes his finger against the slit of your overflowing pussy. “can’t blame me—” you choke on your words when he inserts two fingers inside, curling them upwards before thrusting back and forth.

“hm? continue.” he hums, mocking the way that you’re suddenly speechless when the wave of pleasure from his fingers knocks air out of you.

meanwhile, you had your lips pursed in a thin line, determined not to let out sounds that would be too loud for the people inside the apartment to hear. “ah, fuck—” you groan out, eyes rolling to the back of your eyes as your legs begin to tremble and your hand makes it way to grip on his bicep tightly.

“oh, fuck you, tsukishima.” your eyes open and your lips open wide when you finally reach your high and tsukishima slows his pace down to retract his finger.

he watches as your wetness slides down your thighs and there’s a proud smile on his face. eyes adorning his work of art—you trembling against the wall, lips quivering and unable to form coherent words.

“you’re pathetic right now, you should know.”

the consistency of this man—never misses the chance to tease you. albeit his mean words, there is a scornful smile on his lips that stretches widely, obvious that he’s enjoying everything.

he wraps an arm around you. for the record, he takes his time in letting you ride down your high—even putting in the effort to nestle you into his hold, his warmth acting as some sort of soothing method.

“still good?” his voice is softer this time. his arms around you are comforting rather than firm and suffocating. and despite the throbbing pain that shoots down his lower extremities, he still asks.

you nod your head, patting your hands against his chest before clearing your throat and gesturing below to where his erection is obviously up. his eyes follow to where you’re pointing and chuckles when he sees the evidence of his own arousal.

“i can’t do this out here, [name].” he whispers out, chuckling in between words.

you look up at him, “then take me to your apartment.” certainty is apparent with the way you say it—no hesitation and words clear.

he laughs again, finding the entire situation worth the laugh. “then get into my car, princess.” he points to where his car is parked, bending a bit down to show his princely charms.

you see his car across the street, pursing your lips tight before clearing your throat again. you close your blouse with one hand and you squiggle a bit, trying to realign your panties back into position. and you began walking with tsukishima snickering behind you.

you clasped the seatbelt tight as tsukishima starts the engine, when it does, it revs quietly.

when the car starts moving, you ask, “aren’t they going to wonder why we left without saying anything?” tsukishima shrugs, steering the wheel with one hand while the other rests on the gear.

“they’re too drunk to even notice i bet.”

you chuckle at this because he has a point.

along the quiet highway, his speed begins to pick up and you wonder what’s got him all worked up. “aren’t we driving a bit too fast?” you chuckle nervously, firmly holding onto the handle before you hear tsukishima smack his wet lips together.

“[name],” he swerves to the side. a highway lit up with nothing but streetlight and a few 24/7 convenience stores in the distance, you and him inside of a car with nothing but the empty road in the vicinity. truly dangerous. “i can’t do this.”

you hear him say it lowly then it’s followed by the sound of his seatbelt clicking and the next thing you realize is him pulling you towards him with his hand around your neck.

your eyes widen for the first few seconds of his lips roughly crashing into yours. but it doesn’t take you long before you start feeling like butter when you melt into the passion he pours into the kiss. his fingers tangle themselves into your hair while his other hand trespass the privacy of your clothes to grope you again.

“fuck, you taste so fucking good.” he moans out into the kiss and you feel like you’re being tugged towards the driver’s seat when his hand leaves your breast to land on your waist.

and he indeed, pulls you into his seat. the car wobbles a bit when you relocate, now sitting on his lap with your back arched when your clothes pussy makes contact with his erection.

even with just a mere erection, you can feel his thickness. and the thought of having it inside you made you want it even more.

so, you begin to grind shamelessly on his lap. the wet patch on your pussy forming on his own as you roughly grind back and forth on his arousal.

“oh fuck.” he groans into the kiss before jerking his hips upwards to meet your grinds. but he’s unsatisfied. he plants his hands firmly on your waist and stops you, making you whine.

“wha—why?”

he begins unbuckling his belt and his dick is released of any restriction. “oh my, fuck you.” he curses and you watch how his dick twitches with excitement.

you plant your knees on either side of him before putting your panties to the side and palming his tip. your fingertips caress his sensitiveness tip before you finally let it touch your entrance.

you bite your lips down when the feeling of it rushes to every part of your body. with closed eyes and a half-assed moan of his name, you let yourself sink into his lengthy girth. his dick is unsurprisingly big that it stretches you out and it strains you. his thumb draws circles on your waist, a lame attempt in easing your discomfort on trying to adjust to his size.

“fuck, you feel so good, baby.” you lean back when his tip finally makes contact to your good spot and his entire length is gone from vision—inside of you.

he can’t speak. because you’re squeezing him so damn tight it’s driving him crazy. “loosen up, baby. i can’t move…” he groans out, firmly clasping his hand on your hips.

he feels your pussy loosens and his dick twitches. seated on his lap, you began to bounce up and down. letting his tip hit your good spot over and over again. but tsukishima is left wanting for more when he’s discontented with your pace. so, he helps you by jerking his hips upwards again. the sound of skin slapping echoing in the small car.

“ah fuck, [name], you’re squeezing me so—ah.” he moans out loud and you hear it because he has his lips next to you ear when you’re slumped weakly on his shoulder. “ah—tight… so good, baby…”

“fuck, tsukishima—” you bite your lips down before opting to bite onto his shoulder. “im so—ngh—close…” your hips bounce even faster with your body desperate to chase that high.

tsukishima immediately puts his hands on your waist, pulling himself out of you before he shoots his load—white cum decorating your stomach. while your body trembles with cum leaking out of your pussy staining his pants.

your body is weak when the orgasm ends. you can’t help but lean against him, let your eyes close as sleepiness tries to take over.

tsukishima sighs out, breathes out heavy breaths. looking to his side to see you asleep on his shoulder while you straddled his lap. he lets out a laugh.

“ah, so you’re the type to get sleepy after it, huh.”

when you wake up, you’re not met with the black sheets of your bed. instead, you’re met with fluffier white sheets and on a bed far wider than your twin-sized bed. and you’re not wearing anything of the thin fabric clothes you own but you’re covered in an oddly oversized cotton fabric shirt.

the space beside you is empty. and the surroundings are cold, eyes slowly drifting to the turned on air conditioning system. you feel the cotton fabric stick to your naked skin, and when you peel below, you wore nothing except your underwear.

you shoot up, standing and the cold tiles of the floor make contact with your bare feet—it's a relief when you remember the hell you went through last night wearing heels.

your eyes scan the entirety of the room you’re in—black-painted walls, cabinets holding oddly masculine things, and two electric guitars hanging on the wall.

this is definitely not your room.

you walk on eggshells, traversing across the room to get to the slightly agape door. you perk through the small crack and see the living room. the couch, facing forward, was occupied by someone.

someone so familiar. his broad shoulders are out in the open as he keeps one arm resting against the couch rest. his hair is disheveled, obvious that he had just woken up. the television is running sone sort of channel—a volleyball match.

you absentmindedly push the door further open and it creaks loudly. you hiss when it does because the man slowly turns his head around.

“had a good night’s sleep?”

his voice is lower than usual, an even more apparent sign that he just got up. his face is free of any of the usual glasses that you see, bare-faced and slightly wet from facial wash.

“is this…” you tread lightly as you inch towards him, holding the shirt around you tighter. “your apartment?”

he nods his head before patting the space beside him, encouraging you to sit. you do as he tells you but you let a bit of distance get in between, intimidated by the size of his apartment.

“i took you home since you fell asleep in my car. didn’t know where yours is so yeah.” he lowers the volume on his television. “you wanna go? i can give you a ride.”

you stay quiet, the clothes around you feel cold when the centralized air conditioning system finally settles in the deep parts of your exposed skin.

he notices your discomfort, “oh right. your clothes.” he stands up, goes around the room to get your clothes that hang loosely on one of his dining chairs.

he hands you them but he doesn’t miss the faint surprise in your face. then some thought troubles him.

“do you not remember what happened?” his voice is a bit higher than usual—nervous that you might say no and that he might have taken advantage of you.

you don’t overlook the obvious anticipation and immediately shake your head. “of course i do—” your breath hitches when your eyes lower themselves to catch a glimpse of his swollen red lips. “i’m just… really surprised, that's all.” you look away.

you immediately scatter from where you sat, “oh my, i’m not overstaying am i?”

tsukishima chuckles at this, “nah.” he waves his hands off, “you can stay if you want. matter of fact, i’d rather that you do stay.” he raises one eyebrow before finally settling back to sit on the couch and taking your wrist along with him.

when the couch hits your back, you don’t only feel the comfort of his warm cushions. but the warmth of his arms as well because he has you underneath his arm. his palm planted firmly on your shoulder as he looks up in front to watch the television.

“is this necessary?” you chuckle, but nonetheless curling up into his arms.

his chest vibrates when he laughs with you. “thought you might be cold wearing nothing underneath my shirt.” he says smoothly and your cheeks blush red.

he feels you shrink under him and he rumbles in amusement. “you know, you’re shy for someone who was so damn bold last night.”

your eyebrows furrow and your cheeks redden almost instantly. you shoot up, firmly placing your hands on his thighs as you look up. “well i’m sorry but i got to say you were really good—made me forget about a lot of things so i’m looking forward to this partnership.”

he’s silent with a patronizingly amused expression on his face. it’s obvious that he’s growing pretentious with your words, proud that he’s made you feel good.

“yeah? call me when you need some serious forgetting then—and i’ll call you for mine.”

you’re all dressed up for a date. cheeks all pink from blush, lips are red like blood and your hair is all done like you’re about to star on a met gala.

but your clothes are ruffled from all the time you’ve spent sitting on a high stool in some bar that a guy decided to take you for a first date. except the guy never showed up. and you’re stuck in your seat, holding a glass of dark liquor.

when you take a sip, it’s bland. the ice had already melted and it tasted horrible.

your phone rings beside you and the caller i.d read his name—tsukishima. you roll your eyes before finally answering, putting the phone at a distance from your ear. “hello? why are you calling me—i’m not in the mood to fuck i’m sorry—”

“yachi said you didn’t show up for the afterparty.”

oh right, the afterparty of your college block that you ditched on purpose because you had this stupid date that you got stood up on.

“uh, yeah, tell her i’m sorry about that too.”

tsukishima stays silent on the line but you don’t hang up. the thought of someone on the other end of the call, listening to the noisy ambiance of the bar felt reassuring.

“where are you?” he finally speaks.

you lick your lips before biting, “i have a really bad night tsukishima, i can’t do shit right now.”

“that’s why i’m asking—isn’t that why i’m here?” he cuts in the line and you’re pissed off. why can’t he just leave you alone for this one night.

“listen, i just got stood up. i really can’t fuck you right now.” you bluntly confess and there’s a mocking scoff on the other end before he speaks out. “someone stood you up? what an asshole.”

you rolls your eyes, “why do you care?”

“yeah why do i? location, please.” he doesn’t care how pathetic he sounds right now, tone desperate that he come to your side to be your knight-in-shining-armor.

the call ends once you tell him the name of the bar and you sit quiet in the noisy bar, a glass of bland dark tequila in your hand and an aching lips that is needy for one makeout session with tsukishima. that’s all that you need right now to forget the fact that you’ve been stood up.

the bell on the door rings and you look straight to the entrance. seeing him wearing a denim jacket and disheveled hair. you raise your hand up and he spots you, immediately making his way to you right after he orders a drink.

he sits beside you, both you facing the window and your backs facing everyone else in the bar. the distance between you two are almost non-existent with the way he’s constantly trying to evade your personal space.

“why are you still staying here?” his voice is sultry when he asks, taking two glasses off the waiter’s tray before they move on. he pushes the other one to you and you take it, immediately gulping the entire shot.

you groan out the spice that you feel when it hits your throat with maximum flavor. “because i need a drink. because i got stood up.”

he chuckles at this, he observes how your cheeks are flushed from the drink and your lips are slightly plumpier than usual.

“i think you need more than a drink.”

his hands get under the table, away from prying eyes and they land on your thighs. his fingers immediately caress the plump flesh inside and it’s dangerously close to your aching core.

you bite your lips down when his fingertips touch your clothes pussy. “really? here?” you hiss quietly, only for him to hear, subconsciously closing your legs.

he snickers and there is a mocking edge to it, especially when he says, “isn’t this what we always do? why should it feel different when we do it secretly around people?” his fingers slip inside and his nails graze the inside, he feels you tighten almost instantly.

you lower your head, propping your elbow on the table when he picks up a steady pace. you hear your own heavy breathing echoing when you finally plant your head down.

there’s lewd noises coming out in whispers that only you and him can hear. it’s all muffled and silent when the surroundings is loud with multiple chit chattering happening all at once.

a waiter approaches and offers a drink. tsukishima smiles politely before telling that he will purchase two. meanwhile, you are being tortured under the table, lips bleeding when you bite down onto it to try and keep your noises to yourself.

but he feels so good.

“ngh…” escapes your lips and fortunately, the waiter has already gone to another table.

he picks up his speed even more and your body jerks up. your hand then plant on his thighs, gripping tightly when the know begins to unfold. his fingers are coated in your white goodness and there is an arrogant smile on his lips.

“drink up. i’ll drive you back home.”

you shake your head at this, “why would you do that?” you spit out, alcohol speaking for you.

but it’s a question you’ve been meaning to ask. a question that you need to hear an answer for because you two are in a roundabout that does nothing but confuse you.

tsukishima’s breath falters for a second, wondering what he would reply but there’s already a response in his head that he dares not say.

it’s three words and eight letters.

he dares not say it because he knows you have a point. why would he go all the way as to drive you home when you have your own car waiting in the parking lot—when you two are merely in this intimate partnership and nothing more.

just two people using each other to forget things.

his silence is all you need. silence that clarifies everything. nothingness that teaches you regret.

maybe you shouldn’t have let yourself in this kind of set up in the first place.

especially when you’ve had your eyes set on him the moment you saw him up on the stage, artistic in design and magnetizing to the eyes.

while munching on whatever snack you decided to feast on, you get a notification.

tsukishima: come over, studio. yachi is here.

your eyebrows furrowed, confused on why he’s suddenly inviting you to their band practices. “well, this is new.” you swallow your food before tossing the wrapper inside the bin, whilst typing in your reply:

you: 5 mins

there’s hesitation when your finger presses onto the send button, waiting for you to let go for the function to be activated.

but when your eyes close and you see a vision of you in that room, front row to the art that made you fall deep, there’s a haptic sound from your phone indicating that the message has been sent.

oh, he’s got you helpless.

tsukishima puts his phone back into his pockets when he reads your response on the notification window. immediately focusing back on whatever arrangement they are working on.

you walk towards the campus studio, where the college band works on new pieces to play when representing the name of the university. you haven’t been inside the studio yet, and you don’t know what to expect when tsukishima suddenly invites you.

a bunch of cologne-reeking men playing their instruments with mastery. and an expert electric guitarist that had you in a mating press just last night in his apartment because he was fed up with the way his drummer is constantly ordering him around.

and now that you’re invited, you’re actually excited to see what their drummer looks like.

and when you step foot inside, you certainly weren't expecting such appeal—his black shirt is loose, draping in one shoulder making an off-shoulder appearance. ripped jeans and drumsticks swirling in between his fingers as he tapped on the bass drum below. and there’s a smug smile resting on his lips.

“oh, [name]!” yachi catches you by the door and immediately stands up from the floor. hinata follow then, seems like the two were just slacking around.

your eyes search for a certain blond anyways, closing the door behind you to catch yachi in your arms. “why are you here?” she asks you with wide eyes. you look around and your heart beat faster when you see no sight of the man who invited you in the first place and now you feel like you’re intruding.

“i called her over.” tsukishima’s voice sounds from behind you and you see him busying himself with an amplifier. “thought it’d be a good idea since you’re here too.”

yachi shoots you a teasing look and you shake your head disapprovingly before she drags you towards an empty space where she and hinata were sitting before you arrived.

their a faint buzz from their electric driven instruments. and with the count of the drummer’s sticks, the band begins to play an unfamiliar arrangement. all of them seemingly on their game when a smile spreads on their lips.

but they’re interrupted when their drummer makes a mistake in the timing.

“my bad.” he chuckles lowly and your eyes scan his actions.

he’s everything that tsukishima described to you while you moaned out his name. everything that he complained to you while you’re catching your high, your legs spread apart and his cock deep inside you.

the man that he speaks of all night while he’s buried inside you is sitting on a stool, chuckling innocently all for a mistake he did.

you can see tsukishima’s annoyance from where you sat, inattentively listening to yachi and hinata. he snaps his gaze towards you as if indirectly telling you a “see” and you chuckle at this.

but the drummer catches you. a smile snaking its way to his lips as he nods his head to your direction when your eyes meet. “you’re a new face. tsukishima’s?”

you immediately shake your head, “a friend.” you purse your lips into a thin line but the air gets awkward when tsukishima’s hand slips and accidentally strums a loud note that echoes repeatedly.

“oh yeah?” the drummer lolls out. “nice to meet ya. suna rintarou. as you can see—drummer.”

yeah, you’ve known his name all this time, only because tsukishima has been cursing him over and over again with every thrust that he delivers sending shivers down your spine to how good it feels when the tip of his cock hits your good spot.

he begins drumming a piece that doesn’t sound anything like the arrangement they’re playing. and it sounds so familiar. he keeps his eyes on you while he bangs on the drum set.

you look down and realize you’re wearing a band shirt. and he’s playing a song of theirs.

“yeah?” he nods along and there’s a smile on your face when you realize that he just recognized them. “fellow obscure artist listener?” he ends the piece with a chuckle, bopping his head when you finally vibe with him.

there’s a wide smile on your lips when you inch closer, dragging yourself so you can speak a bit closer. “oh yeah.” you point to your shirt and he laughs.

“tell me your favorites.” and the conversation lasts for another five minutes or so until suna is finally pulled out of the interaction when the bassist strums harshly, ushering him to continue with the practice.

“really sorry, but we need to practice, yeah?”

tsukishima is fed up again. a deadpan expression on his face as his grip on the guitar’s neck tightens and he almost snaps his pick into two. he looks up before finally strumming it harshly when his part comes in.

his guitar is louder and suna looks back at him, “yo. too loud. turn it down.”

he subtly rolls his eyes under his closed eyes before obliging, tuning down his amp so that their instruments blend smoothly again.

and you’re unaware of everything.

you spend the entire afternoon listening to their arrangement over and over again. and along the way, you actually build some sort of connection with suna when he remarks out comments that only you catch the reference to because it’s about your favorite band.

when the practice is over, tsukishima calls out to you while he’s putting his things back into his bag, swirling the wire around his fingers so it’s tucked neatly. you walk over to his side with raised eyebrows, “yeah?”

he tucks the wire inside the bag, “let me take you home.” he stand in front you, exhausted with the extensive practice they just did and his shoulders slump lazily. he looks down on you, begging that you say yes.

you swallow a lump before pathetically looking away, “you really don’t have to.” you try but he insists. “please.”

you can hear the yearning in his voice. although his expressions don’t say much, you’ve grown closer to him that even with the slightest shift of tone in his voice, you notice.

and while you’re as emotionally wrecked as he is right now, your body lets out a sigh and your head nods. “alright.”

and you don’t understand how you’re easily giving into him and his selfish needs that he uses you to forget his own problems. perhaps, your mind has adapted to the lifestyle that you two have agreed on.

you follow him to his car outside the campus. you’re comfortable in the passenger seat—there is a tube of lip gloss, a compact mirror along with an unused handkerchief and a packet of rubber in his compartment, evidence that you’re expected every time.

you notice it, even if it’s a small detail, because your heart warms to the fact that he does these little things.

little things that barely mean anything. and the fact that you let it linger in your mind longer than necessary, haunts you.

because it shouldn’t be anything.

it shouldn’t occupy such a vulnerable space inside of your mind. but it does, and that scares you.

that’s why little by little, you’re trying to say no. to refuse when he asks for you and your body. because you’re opening up piece by piece and to you, he’s still a hard shell you’ve yet to unravel. and it’s hard because there’s unwillingness from him.

there’s obvious reluctance in opening up to you—as if you’re unwelcome to the raw version of him. while you are slowly being unveiled unintentionally by him and his confusing actions.

the engine revs and the car finally starts moving. there’s quiet silence in the way that you two are just sitting, eyes up front to the view of the road and lips unmoving without words.

but you want to talk. you want to talk to him about everything.

but you’re scared that if you do, you’d cross another boundary in your so-called partnership.

so instead of initiating a conversation, you wait. even if it takes minutes before he finally speaks, you’ll hold on to that little hope that tsukishima’s lips will moves to say words that you’d hear out.

“you were really happy with suna back there.”

he breaks the silence with the words you least expected you’d hear from him.

your head snaps to the side, eyes a tad bit wider than normal as you peer your head to see his expression. you can’t see his face clearly—it’s hidden underneath the stray bangs that covered half of his face when he has his chin on his propped hand, one hand on the steering wheel.

you lean back to your seat when the seatbelt restricted you from leaning in further. there’s a frustrated thud when you do.

“really? i didn’t even notice.”

there’s a disbelieved scoff exiting his lips when you say the last word. “yeah, hard to notice when you’re so into the conversation you two were having.” there’s a sarcastic sneer when he says it and it doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

you chuckle mockingly when you realize the story.

“yeah?” you taunt, “what’s it to you if i had fun?” there’s wit when you say it, a hidden intention to push tsukishima’s buttons.

his hand turns white when his grip onto the steering wheel tightens, eyebrows furrowing when your words get to him.

you decide to push further, “does it make you jealous?” a toothy grin up your lips and your eyes side-eye him to check his expressions.

his jaw tightens and you see the firm grip he has on the steering wheel. then after a fleeting moment, a scoff is all that he can give you as a response.

not a sentence, no word, just a scoff.

it weirds you out—the way that he doesn’t put in any effort to deny what you just said. a simple no would’ve been nice.

“why would it? it’s not like we’re together or what—” you look away immediately but your words get interrupted with a harsh screech from his car. and when you look out the window, your apartment’s in view.

“get out,” the lock of the doors to his car clicks open as he firmly tells you to get out of his car.

out of surprise, you aren’t able to move in time when his patience finally runs out. his own seatbelt clicks before he’s hovering over you, pulling the seatbelt off of you before grabbing you by your collar and the next thing you realize happening is your lips against him in a harsh kiss.

his teeth graze your lips and it feels suffocating because he does it with so much force. the hand he has on your collar loosens and relocates to grip your chin with the same amount of intensity.

your hand immediately comes up to push against his chest and he pulls away, eyes lingering on your widened ones.

“the fuck?” you curse out before patting your shirt back down when he gripped it upwards earlier. “what’s wrong with you all of a sudden?”

he sighs out before running a hand through his hair and adjusting his glasses as he leans back to his seat to grip the wheel again.

he clicks his own door open before spitting out a cold “i said get out.”

he gets off the car and walks around to open your door, his hand slips around your wrist to tug you out. it’s firm but the careful gentleness is still there. the door slams close and he clicks his key to lock the doors. he yanks you again, this time towards your apartment door where he opens with zero hesitation with his own keys that you gave him.

the door creaks open and he pushes you inside before intruding in himself. at this point, you’re just going with everything that he’s doing, too startled to even form a coherent sentence to ask him what’s wrong.

and it all becomes clear when the door closes with a slam and you’re pressed against it. the lock clicks when he turns it.

“is this what this is about?” you finally speak out when he hovers quietly over you, head resting low, powerless from your words. “me and him talking and you don’t like that?” there’s a laugh in between your words, as if to mock his current situation that he so dreaded from happening.

your head turns to the side to look away with an unamused grin on your lips because he’s refusing to speak clearly to you.

as much as you want him to man up and speak, you know he has no obligations in doing that to you. because again, this is mere physical intimacy—nothing emotional is supposed to be going on.

“talk to me, tsukishima.” your voice is low, desperation still seeping through as your hand tightens into a fist.

the hand he had planted next to your hand snakes surrenderingly to the side of your head. cupping your cheeks and caressing the softness of your skin before he leans in to kiss you again.

“kei.” he corrects you but it does nothing to soothe the fast beating of your heart.

your lips are molding into one another again when he pulls you back in, plump flesh intertwined into a passionate share of kiss. his lips are trying to open yours and when you get the signal, you let his tongue inside. he’s tangling you both into a knot, as if he’s desperate to become one with you.

you let out a lewd sound when his fingers make contact with your neck, slowly encasing until he’s got you in a chokehold—perks of this partnership is that he knows what you want.

he only gets more and more aroused when he feels your throat vibrating with your muffled sounds, helpless when his lips are devouring your own.

he pulls away but his grip tightens, “you know how i feel about him.” he spits out and your eyebrows furrow—did you actually make him jealous?

“why—” your breath hitches when his free hand leaves your waist and moves to lazily push the buttons of your blouse off. you try to pay no mind to his sensual shenanigans, “—do you care? why should… i adjust for you?”

you know what game you’re playing here, you are all too aware that you have the upperhand. just a few more words and you can coax the words that you’ve been meaning to hear from his own red and swollen lips.

“are you seriously jealous?”

your words hold humor but there’s clear intention behind them. and when tsukishima doesn’t speak, you take it as a yes.

“but why?” you ask breathily when his hand falls flat on your stomach—your blouse now open and your torso out in the air. “we agreed to no strings attached.” you chuckle sarcastically but your teasing lilt falls silent when his hand makes its way around you to unclasp your bra with ease.

it falls onto the ground and you’re half-naked in front of him, still begging that he tells you something.

it's ironic to you, you're asking questions and telling words that contradict your own feelings. because, since when did you ever see this as something so light as "no strings attached"?

his lips twitch when he hears you ask why, but his body refuses to listen to his unorganized mind that begs him to take a moment. he lowers his body before tilting his head to latch onto your nipple, his other hand stroking your breast and it only fuels his desires when he hears you failing to hold back your moans.

“i asked… ngh—you why.” you’re close to crying when the desperation to keep him so close to you and the restless need for answers begin to combine.

your fingers tangle themselves into his hair, pulling him impossibly closer when his tongue starts to do wonders on your perked up nipples. your knees buck and you melt in between the door and him sucking on your nipple. your core is aching and you feel your panties getting wetter with every passing moment.

he pulls back, “i’m sorry.” he mumbles out while his hand is slowly undoing the lock on your pants, pulling

down the zipper before he takes it halfway off of you.

he’s not even letting you catch your breath when he kneels down, takes your leg and puts it over his shoulder.

“why—” you’re lost for words when his nose hits your aching core. he sniffs your panties without shame, making your cheeks warmer than ever and your thighs painful with the need to close them but his head is in between them. “why are you saying sorry…?”

he acts as if he doesn’t hear you when his teeth makes contact with your wet pussy, he pulls your panties off with his teeth and you let out a moan of his name, “fuck, kei—!” and without sparing another second, he clings onto your hot sensitiveness with his tongue entering you in a matter of seconds.

with just this, you feel overstimulated. your shoulders and hands are trembling when you hold onto his broad shoulders, he’s constantly nipping and sucking onto your wetness without breaks and it feels like you’re about to break any second.

there are tears forming in your eyes, lips bleeding when you bite onto them hard when his tongue continues to please you up until he’s had you squirting all over his face.

“kei… it feels so fucking—ah—good.”

he pulls back, holds onto your waist when you start to fall under your own weight—the orgasm taking over your strength and you feel like a melting candle under his flame hot passion to make you his.

he then carries you bridal style, moves across the living area to meet with your bed’s edge. he tosses you harshly onto the bed, pulls off your pants completely along with your underwear.

you try to fight back, in hopes that you come down from your high completely first but he doesn’t back down. instead, he kisses all over stomach while actively taking his shirt off.

he stands tall over you, eyes free of the glasses he usually wore and his eyebrows furrowed. there’s evident confusion in his eyes, but there’s also a lingering need behind them. and you can’t exactly pinpoint what kind of need—it’s not the usual glint of lust you see when you two do this, it’s far more intense to just be labeled as a sign of lust.

he reaches out for your wrist and guides your hand over his toned abs. his fingers caressing your own while he does so.

when you two are looking into each other’s eyes, your lips move to speak.

“do you love me?”

your hand drops to your side when he lets go abruptly. there’s a frown on his lips before he tilted his head to the side while his fingers were busy undoing his pants.

“what would you want to hear?”

he places both of his hand beside your head and he hovers completely, his dick hangs loose off the restriction of his pants and it’s fully erect with arousal, the tip touching your stomach when he teases you unintentionally.

the tears that formed in the corners of your eyes finally fell loose. your eyebrows furrowed with emotions and your body is shaking when you reach out to wrap your arms around him.

he lowers himself a little and the next thing you feel is your inside slowly growing fuller and fuller with his length.

“oh fuck.” he groans, his eyes rolling to the back of his head when he feels you pulsating against him. it’s utterly sexy to him—the way you feel so welcoming when he’s fully inside, as if your pussy has been waiting for his dick.

you bite your lips down and there’s an loving feel to your expression.

“i can’t do this anymore, [name].” is what he says before he begins to thrust into you at a slow pace. his hips hitting yours when he does so, “i can’t fuck you properly when you’ve just talked like that with him.”

he speaks as if his name is not worth muttering.

his pace grows faster, groaning with every hit. his hair is disheveled and there is sweat rolling down his face, “i can’t have you talking with him when you’re like this with me.” he watches your face contort with pleasure.

“so fucking vulnerable with me and you let him talk to you like that?”

now it’s obvious.

he’s faster than ever now, the bed creaks and you’re scared it might break with his pace and intensity. you’re crying now, begging that he go slow because it feels like he’s splitting you open. but he doesn’t falter.

“go… fuck—ah—slower!” you mewl out with a loud moan, your heartbeat fast when you realize your volume. “kei—!”

“i can’t slow down baby,” he groans out, his hips bucking into you making your body vibrate and jiggle. “not when you’ve made me feel like this.”

you close your eyes, mind circling with stars as you’re drunk with the feeling of his dick becoming one with you. you’re tightening with every second, pleasure washing over you like never before. he groans out loudly when he begins aching from the suffocating hold you had on him.

tsukishima plants his hands on your hips firmly when he feels his high coming, and before you know it, you feel empty when he pulls out. he doesn’t even need to give it a stroke before white goodness starts gushing out of his dick and he’s spraying it onto your stomach.

he notices that you’re still not coming so he immediately puts three fingers inside of you before muttering a small, “sorry.” as he pumps them in and out in lightning speed that has you trembling in no time.

“fuck fuck, wait—kei—” you yell out, holding onto his hands as if telling him that your body is in pain and when he pulls away, your body releases. white cum and you’re squirting all over him too.

he breathes out heavily as he watches you come undone beneath him. your breasts are red with bite marks, pussy wet with clear and white liquids and your hair disheveled when he tugged onto them a while ago.

he licks his lips before lowering himself onto you, giving your swollen, lonely lips a fat kiss.

when you two are sitting side by side on the edge of the bed with the covers around your naked body and him half-naked holding a lit up cigarette in one hand, there is comforting silence. he hands you the cigarette and lets you take a blow.

“let me stay by your side, i promise i’ll make it worthwhile.”

im my no1 hater when it comes to my own works <3 this is pure word vomit & kinda rushed bcs i got lazy

[melancholiclace]

HIII I JUST WANNA SAY I LOVE YOUR WORK SO MUCH ITS AMAZINGGGG!!

ok but hear me out on this idea, you’re at a party with bestfriend!denki and get stuck playing 7 minutes in heaven with him in a closet(smut duh)

that's so sweet thank you so much omg😭

i'm a fucking sucker for 7MIH tropes so i got excited for this one!! i maybeee also wanted to sprinkle in a jealous denki bc the opportunity of some guy flirting with you at a house party and him getting pissed off is too good to pass up here. tsym for requesting this, it was a lot of fun!!!

warning for nsfw: 7 minutes in heaven, a weird guy talks to you, quickie in a closet

best friend!denki kaminari x f!reader - i only need seven minutes with her

"This is actual fucking bullshit," Denki said into his solo cup. The burn of liquor did nothing to dim his searing hatred for the guy pulling out all the stops on you right now.

He'd been watching you two across the living room for almost fifteen minutes now. You entertaining the stupid degenerate of a boy (Denki's opinion of him), him flirting and touching your shoulder, rubbing your hips—positively pissing Denki off.

You two weren't together, no, but Denki was your best friend. Your bestest friend, he liked to say, and he had been for a long time—he knew you better than any random fucking guy you met at a classmate's party. And as your best friend, he didn't like seeing you basically groped and publicly humiliated by a little boy who thought he had a chance with his girl.

"Man, she's just having fun," Sero said, lounging beside Denki on the sofa. He was already four drinks deep, slurring his words and fluttering his eyes. He'd been eyeing a girl in the kitchen himself, absently paying attention to Denki's sour mood. "It's not like she'd go home with him. She always goes home with you. Always. It isn't fair."

"What the hell do ya mean?" Denki muttered.

"I mean you're not even her boyfriend. Let another guy have a turn with her—you're always hanging around her and actin' like she's off limits."

"Because she fucking is. Screw off, dude. If you're thinking of doing something—"

Sero waved a dismissive, drunk hand. "Chill ooouuuttt... I won't. But it looks like that other guy might."

Denki scowled as he snapped his gaze back onto you and that damn interloper. You were using that stupid fake giggle you used to ward off unpleasantries, usually when said made weak attempts at jokes or said an offhand comment. God, you looked so bored. He was about ready to abandon Sero and go to your rescue when—

"Hey, guys! We're doing Seven Minutes in Heaven! Somebody get a bottle," yelled an indistinct party-goer, drawing in a crowd of your and Denki's friends.

Thank god.

"Shit," Sero muttered. "You going to try to play with her?"

"You know I am. I only need seven minutes with her to prove that I'm a million times better than that guy."

After leaving his drink, Denki took great pleasure in bounding over to you and wrapping an arm around your waist to steal you away from the stranger's weaselly grasp. "Hi, pretty girl," he greeted you with that flirtatious nickname and a genuine smile. "Seven Minutes in the other room. I wanna play. Let's go."

"Actually we were—" the stranger began to say, but was quickly cut off.

"You were just done, yeah? Thanks for stalling her for me," he said before herding you away.

"Dear god, thank you for saving me," you murmured with a slight grin. "I was trying to be polite but I wanted to shoot myself while listening to that guy yap on and on."

"Any time, babe." He didn't bother moving his arm off your waist, hand rubbing your hip, as he led you towards where a group was gathering around the bottle. "Did I mention how good you look? And how you love me and should definitely play with me so that I'm not around these people and a bottle alone?"

"Okay, okay." You smiled wider. "I was going to say yes anyways. Let's play."

So you two sat around for Seven Minutes in Heaven, in a circle like a bunch of middle schoolers. Denki watched the bottle spin with prickled anxiety, watched people stumble in and out of the closet, flustered and riddled with hickeys and swollen lips. And when it got to be your turn, his heart pounded like it was going to beat out of his chest—due to the fact that firstly, he didn't want anyone else to go into that little fucking closet with you in that little fucking party dress, and secondly, he hoped nobody notice him use his quirk to shoot a little spark at the bottle so that it landed on him.

He wasted no time tailing you into the closet, the goading voices of your friends behind you.

"Look at this—they're finally gonna do it."

"Christ, I seriously never thought Denki would make a move. He acts like a damn guard dog but doesn't do anything."

Their voices became muffled as he quickly shut the door behind him. You two were pressed in tightly together—your tits close to his chest, heaving almost erotically because of how fast Denki had been to get you away. Soon you two were engulfed in darkness, having to squint to see each other. Outside, the noise of the party fell away into the unseen background.

"Jesus," you laughed, "what're you doing, 'Ki? Did you rig the bottle or something so that you could mess with me or something?"

"No," he said, breathless even though he hadn't even touched you yet. Slowly, carefully, like he might spook you, he interlocked his hands over your lower back and pressed further against you. His body was hot and rigid, and it felt good. "S-shit. Look, just tell me to stop if you want me to."

"What do you mean—"

His lips were on yours before you knew it. Tongue swirling against your teeth, then intertwining with yours when you allowed him access. He told you to tell him to stop if you wanted, but you sure as hell didn't want him to—you wanted more.

"What... what is this?" you murmured against his lips, fists bunching up the fabric of his top. "Denki..."

"I know—" he whispered before kissing you deeper. "I know I never outright told you, that I love you, love you so damn much, and I should've—then maybe you would've stopped entertaining all those fucking guys."

You sucked in a sharp breath. "I never..."

His eyes opened in narrow, intense slits, focused on you; just you, the feel of you, your smell, the alcohol on your breath, the material of your dress—everything about you, because that was all he wanted, all of you. "You know just what I'm talking about, baby. Everyone wants a goddamn piece of you. They call you my girl, my pretty—mm—fucking girl, but they still want to fuck you all the same."

He worked on unbuckling his pants and sliding them down ever so slightly. You only had five minutes left, he needed to be efficient. He gave you one pleading look, and when you nodded he shoved your dress up so fast and almost tore your panties trying to get to your sweet pussy.

He pressed his thumb against your clit and pressed two nimble fingers in you, trying quickly to prep you, so that he could just feel you before your turn in the closet was over. He was disappointed that his first time with you like this had to be a quickie during Seven Minutes in Heaven of all things.

"But you're mine, aren't ya? Always have been," he said before delving in for another sloppy kiss. Strings of saliva connected you each time you two pulled apart for air, and soon he curled his fingers for the final time, pulled them out of you, and licked the taste of you off them. Then, in one quick motion, he tapped the swollen tip of his dick against your entrance. He moaned when you guided him inside. Your eyes watered at the slight initial pain of him pushing into your tight hole, then the overwhelming rush of pleasure.

"Yeah... Yes. All yours." You whined when he began moving, hands harshly gripping your thighs as he held you up for leverage.

"Tell me again. Tell me those assholes were worth nothing."

"T-they—I didn't even know their names, 'Ki—"

"Then why'd you talk to them all the fucking time?" He sped up his pace, hips bucking, practically bullying your pussy. Your nails dug into his shirt as you felt your orgasm building.

"I dunno... I don't—"

"Yes, you do, baby. Why?"

"To make you jealous!" you blurted out, the pressure and warmth tight in the pit of your stomach. When you finally came and the sweet relief washed over you, he guided you through your climax with slow, loving thrusts—then eventually stilled with himself still inside of you, heavy balls kissing your pussy.

"Dirty girl," he whispered. "I knew you wanted me all along."

"Time's up, dude. Stop fucking her and let someone else have a turn!" somebody outside the closet yelled.

Shit. Had everyone heard you guys?

Denki groaned quietly. "Damn it. I wanted more time with my angel."

---

reqs are still open for mha, kny, and jjk! don't be shy if you have any ideas and want to message me<3

[ushiidoll]

Haikyuu boys twitter links

contains: STRAIGHT UP PORN, timeskip! Haikyuu boys (obviously.), whimpering, pnv, doggystyle, jerking off, moaning, eating, overstimulation, humping/dry humping, size kinks, etc.

18+ warnings nsfw!!! watch at your own risk must have X account or some might not work :(

teasing atsumu while he whines and cries

Osamu is the best eater!!

yamaguchi sending you a video at home while you’re gone

Tsukishima jerking off to the thought of you in those lacy lingerie

Nishinoya loves any form of sexual activity. even if its your feet

Osamu + Atsumu front and back

Jerking kenma off while he’s gaming

Oikawa overstimulating you with his fingers

Kuroo letting you hump his abs

Bokuto has insane stamina AND energy..!

Ushijima fucking into you while you still have the lingerie he bought for you (Ushijima AGAIN.)

Showering with kageyama didn’t end as you were expecting it to..

Sugawara wants to give you the treatment you deserve

Dry humping Hinata til he cums :(

Morning sex with daichi before he goes patrol

Suna LOVESSSS recording you while he plunges his dick inside you 💕 (another suna video)

Aone and his size kink

Coach ukai pounding into you from behind

A/n: this is definitely a new post, i dont think ive done twitter links yet but Ive seen that it’s very popular so might as well give it a try!

credits to original creators and banners!!

[siocalm]

ᖴOᒪᒪOᗯ TᕼEIᖇ ᒪEᗩᗪ

Once upon a time... You found out your boyfriend was once a part of a 'no-strings-attached' threesome with his two best friends! But.. Wait.. Why are you suddenly asking them to teach you how to make your boyfriend submissive?!

K. Bakugou x Reader

⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔

Warnings: HEAVY SMUT with barely any plot (i was ovulating, sorry..), sub/bottom!bkg, dom!reader, top!kiri, top!izuku, mentions of kiribakudeku 3some (but no feelings were involved), OOC, NOT PROOFREAD

“You’re so cute, Kats,” you murmured, cupping his burning red face like you’d just discovered something precious.

Bakugo froze.

For a split second, he just stared at you. Eyes wide, breath caught somewhere in his chest, before his scowl snapped back into place. He jerked his head to the side, teeth sinking into his lip as colour spread all the way to his ears.

“Tch, what the hell are you saying?!” he snapped, voice rough. “Quit talking shit like that! I’m not cute!”

But he didn’t pull away.

If anything, his grip around you tightened, fingers curling stubbornly into your clothes like he refused to let go. His shoulders were tense, jaw locked, but the way his gaze kept flicking back to you gave him away. You can feel his toned legs encircle your waist, keeping you locked on top of him.

Soon, the bed creaked with a new weight. “Kacchan always says that at first.” Midoriya laughed lowly, scarred hand guiding yours to Katsuki’s bare chest. Your palms flattened immediately, relishing in the rapid, pounding thud of his heart.  

Midoriya leaned closer, resting his chin on your shoulder, “He’s sensitive right over here-”  still holding your hand, he guided it towards your boyfriend’s nipples. His fingertip brushed it first, showing you how to tweak it just right, slow and deliberate, before easing your fingers to do the same.

Your breath hitched at the whimper that escapes Katsuki, “S-shut yer trap, Deku! I ain’t sensi- h-hngaah…” he jerked like he’d been shocked, shoulders tightening as a tremor ran through him. His head dipped forward, blond bangs falling into his eyes while he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth.

“Told ya..” Izuku’s laugh was soft and teasing, brushing against your ear in the closest, most deliberate way. 

You can’t believe this is finally happening. You watched in awe as your blonde boyfriend uncharacteristically let out high-pitched moans, just from having his nipples played by both you and Izuku.

A few weeks ago, you and Katsuki finally got to bed after stressful days at work. The room was quiet in the comfortable way that only happens when you are in each other’s arms. The sheets were warm, and the faint glow of the city lights filtered through the curtains. You were half on top of him, half beside him, your cheek pressed against his arm, idly tracing the scars around it.

For someone who spent most of his life bristling like a ticking time bomb (both literally and figuratively), Katsuki Bakugo had gotten surprisingly used to this. He never thought he would find love, and did not even imagine that he would find comfort in someone other than himself. At the ripe age of 26, and being together for over two years, Bakugo was glad to be someone’s special person. He was glad- no, absolutely thankful to every single higher being, that it was you who gave him your never-ending love.

His arm was slung lazily around your back, hugging you so close to him, allowing himself to be the most vulnerable. Raw and exposed just for you to see. He’s not Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight, he’s simply just your Kats, ‘Suki, honey.

Silence settled again for a moment. It was the kind that didn’t need filling, the kind built from trust instead of awkwardness. Bakugo stared at the ceiling while you played with the hem of his shirt.

Then he spoke, like the thought had been chewing on him.

“…You- uh- ever do anything stupid before we started dating?”

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the question, and then, because he looks nervous? You can feel the way his fingers twist your hair, as if it can soothe his nerves. “Define stupid, Kats.”

“Like,” he gestured vaguely with his free hand, “relationship shiy.”

You lifted your head a little to look at him. “That’s very vague..? Are you talking about exes or something? I thought you already knew that I had previous relationships before?”

“Tch. No, dumbass. I meant like- Gah!”

Another pause after a groan. He didn’t look at you when he said the next part.

“…I.. Uhm. Fuck- used to be in a threesome.”

You sat up, jaw on the floor, because what do you mean the Katsuki Bakugo was in a threesome?! The same Katsuki who stuttered when he tried to confess to you years ago? The same Katsuki whose entire face got so red when you both shared your first kiss as an official couple?!

There was a long, stunned beat of silence.

“A what?”

“A threesome,” he repeated flatly, but he wasn’t meeting your gaze.

Your brain tried to catch up. “…Okay.” Then it caught up. “With who?”

Bakugo rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly looking way more interested in the ceiling.

“…Deku and Shitty Hair.”

You stared at him, jaw dropping even more. 

“…Deku as in Izuku Midoriya?!”

“Yeah.”

“And Shitty Hair as in Eijiro Kirishima?!”

“Yeah. Sweets, I’m pretty sure ya’ only know one Deku and one Shitty Hair”

You opened your mouth. Closed it. Opened it again, blinking at him with eyes wide.

“Huh. Well… That’s… Something I didn’t expect to hear on a Friday night..”

His eyebrow twitched. “That’s it?”

“I meannnn” you gestured helplessly, “I’m surprised, of course. Two years, and I never knew about this, or that you even swing in that direction! But I’m not gonna like… condemn you for it or something.”

He studied your face carefully, like he was trying to see if you were lying. “You’re not weirded out?”

“Never,” you said honestly. “Though I have to admit that it’s something I’ll take time in processing.”

He exhaled through his nose and looked back at the ceiling.

“It wasn’t a relationship thing,” he muttered. “No feelings. None of that crap. It just… happened.”

You tilted your head. “How does that just happen?” You try to envision a younger Katsuki, the man you haven’t met yet. How did this arrangement come into play? Who initiated it? When did it-

Bakugo huffed. “Stress.”

“That’s your explanation?”

“Mm.”

You waited, eyes deadpanned as you crossed your arms and quirked one eyebrow up. He glanced at you again, clearly realizing you weren’t going to let him get away with that.

“…It was during that period after we started getting serious hero work,” he said reluctantly. “Everyone was wound tight all the time. Missions, pressure, rankings… all that shit.”

His fingers started idly tapping your thigh as he talked.

“We got drunk once and Shitty Hair suggested it as a joke at first,” he continued. “Deku turned red as hell. I told them both to fuckin’ stop playing…Then a few weeks later, it stopped being a joke. When, uhm, Ei and I were stuck with the nerd after he invited us to be the guest heroes in his class.”

You were quiet for a few minutes, trying your hardest to wrap your mind around his abrupt confession. Soon, you lay back down beside him again, resting your head on his shoulder.

“…Did it last long?” you asked gently.

“Nah.” He shrugged. “A few months, maybe. On and off. Sometimes ‘s all of us, and sometimes it's not. ”

“There weren't any drama?”

“Nope.”

“No secret feelings?”

“Hell no.”

You hummed thoughtfully as Bakugo glanced down at you again.

“Ya’ good, sweets? Y’know, you can be honest with me...” his brows furrowed. For a second, he wanted to go back in time before his stupid mouth started spewing his past. The last thing he wants is for you to leave him, or to be weirded out by Deku and Shitty Hair. There may not be any romantic feelings involved, but he still treasured those two dumbasses as his closest friends.

You shrugged against him. “You trusted me enough to tell me. That’s the part I care about.”

“…Tch.”

He clicked his tongue, but there was no bite in it. He brought you closer to him again, tightening his grip on your waist as he shifted positions, burying himself in the crook of your neck. 

You shifted slightly to look at him,  “…So,” you said slowly, curiosity starting to creep in despite yourself. You let out a soft snort of laughter,  “How exactly did that first time even happen?”

Bakugo groaned and buried himself deeper against you. “Fuckin’ hell… I knew ya’ were gonna ask that shit, perv”

After your little “Hey!” and a slap on his shoulder due to his name-calling, he let out a long sigh.

“…Alright. It started after one mission when we were all completely wrecked…”

A few days later, you were still thinking about it.

“I was the- what do people call it? Ah, the bottom.”

You tried not to. You really did. Promise! 

But the thought had lodged itself into your brain like a splinter, and every time you almost forgot about it, it would immediately come back to the forefront of your mind. If you were being honest, him being submissive was way more surprising than finding out he used to be in a threesome with his closest friends.

You bit your lip. Katsuki was always the dominant one in your relationship. Even when he was relaxed, even when he was soft with you, there was always that underlying edge of dominance to him. The way he guided you by the waist. The way his voice dropped when he was teasing you. The way he looked at you when he wanted something.

Katsuki Bakugo was not the type of person anyone would ever imagine being submissive.

And yet…

Your brain, very unhelpfully, keeps on remembering that specific part of his confession.

The idea that there was a side of him you’d never seen before… a version of him that had once trusted someone else enough to give up control…

It made your curiosity spiral. Not in a judgmental way. Not even in a jealous way.

Just… Plain desire. The need to see him be the one in your mercy for once.

What would he be like?

Would he still be stubborn? Would he get embarrassed? Would he bark orders anyway? Would he be quiet?

Your face warmed slightly.

Would he like it if you tried?

Immediately, another thought followed.

….What if you did it wrong?

This was the problem. You had zero experience taking the lead with him like that. Sure, you’d teased him before, pushed his buttons, but actually flipping the roles? That was different. You never even tried, to be honest.

What if it felt awkward?

What if he didn’t enjoy it?

What if you completely ruined the mood?

You sank further into the couch, staring blankly at your phone. 

You’re overthinking this!

But the thoughts just kept piling up, until all you can think about is taking control for once. 

There was… one solution. A very questionable solution. But technically, it was the most logical one.

Because the only two people on earth who knew the answer to your problem…

It was them.

“He reacts the most to direct attention… Always wanna be the center of everything, right bro?” A flash of red hair appeared, slightly in front of you. Kirishima’s muscular frame towers over Katsuki, and you can see how he ducked his head lower to Katsuki’s chest. “F-fuck. Shitty hair, you better not do what- MMMH!”

Bakugo’s back arched, head tilted back when Kirishima took one nipple to his mouth, sucking almost immediately and leaving love marks around the sensitive flesh. “Ha…A-ah, Oi! T-too rough, y-you braindead asshole!” 

An uncharacteristic growl slipped from Kirishima’s lips as he bit down harder, drawing a sharp gasp and a breathless, “Fuck! Kirishima!”

Oh my… Seeing your boyfriend treated like a plaything by his friends, and now by you, sends a hot, restless feeling rushing through you. When your ass grinded against his clothed cock, Katsuki cried out, humping the air to try and gain more friction for his very erect member. “J-just do some shit already!”

“Ah, ah, Kaacchan,” Midoriya tuts behind you, fingers curling around the blonde’s waist and keeping him exactly where he wants him. There’s a teasing lilt to his voice. “You’re being rude.” His breath is warm, sending a tingling sensation that makes your pussy throb with want. “Aren’t you going to show your girlfriend some proper manners?” A chuckle escapes him. “Don’t tell me you need to be reminded.”

You feel your heart pounding in your chest when soft sniffles escaped Katsuki’s lips. His usually fiery eyes now look up to you, pupils blown wide. “P-please…” 

“C’mon, Kaachan. Don’t want your sweetheart to be disappointed in you, right?” 

“No..!” he jolted, hands reaching to your hips frantically. Blush taints his pale skin, going as far as his collarbones as he paws against your clothes. “P-Please…” he closes his eyes, biting his lips, “P-please fffuck m-me…”

Izuku smiled with exaggerated innocence, clapping his hands lightly, his voice pitched higher than usual. “Knew you weren’t totally useless, Kacchan!” The comment leaves Katsuki clenching his jaw tightly, short, frustrated whimpers escaping him as he tries to grind your ass back down.

Kirishima leaned back, admiring the marks he left on his bro’s pale skin, catching your attention once more. “Look, he’s easy to mark up, right? Sometimes he begs us to leave him filled with all sorts of marks, like he wants someone to claim him.”

A tremor passes through you and the explosive blond the second you feel the fabric of his undergarments being ripped apart.

Holy fuck, that was hot. And you assume Katsuki thought the same, as a low, needy whine escapes him.

“C’mere, we’ll show you what makes Kacchan beg and cry.” Izuku gently lifts you with ease, shifting you to sit at the side. 

You can see a lube bottle being passed around by the two men, both of whom then slather a generous amount on their hands. “I’m sure you already know this, but you need’a make sure he’s properly stretched.” Kirishima looked at you with a beaming smile, as if he was not about to demolish his closest friend.

“Shit… You know what to do, Kacchan.” A simple tap on his knees made Katsuki silently bristle, but he still pulled his legs up, presenting to all three of you with his arms under his knees. Izuku smiled, moving to rest in between his legs, lifting his ass slightly to land a powerful smack in one cheek that caused him to lurch with a loud yelp.

You were nearly hypnotised by the way Izuku’s rough fingers teased the fluttering hole, rubbing teasing circles around the rim. “Fuck… Fuck, Deku! NNgh…Ha…MNGHHH!” his volume grew the second the tip of Izuku’s finger entered his awaiting hole.

“D-Don’t stop you, nerd! G-go..Hah…G-go f-faster! S-shit! R-right there! Angh..!” Katsuki whimpers, hands trying to find anything to grab onto after he lets his legs rest on Izuku’s shoulders.

A low whistle brought you back to reality, “Damn.. I almost forgot how loud Bakugo can be”, Kirishima says with a laugh, watching how Izuku scissors open a moaning Katsuki. “Here, I’ll show you another way to lube up your fingers, yeah?”

You gulped, nodding because you don’t trust your voice at this point. Shit, who knew your boyfriend’s thighs quake so easily at the most simple touches?! 

“ShitshitshitSHIT! There! Y-you’re so close, Izuku! Fuckin’ press against it- mmMPH?!” His eyes widened at the sensation of your fingers on his tongue. Tears glistened as he looked up at you, struggling for a moment before giving in.

His eyes grew half-lidded, sucking and swirling his tongue around your fingers, thoroughly coating them with his saliva. 

“Atta girl… See how pretty he looks?” Kirishima complimented, before nudging Izuku to remove his fingers that were roughly pumping inside Katsuki’s ass, letting it leave with a long, wet squelch.

The blonde protested in muffles, trying to bring Izuku back in by pulling him with his legs, grinding his ass roughly against the palm. “Patience, Kacchan. Your girl is going to find out how it's done”

Deku beckoned you closer. Just like earlier with Katsuki’s nipples, he gently grabbed your fingers to teach you how to tease the awaiting heat, how to dip your fingers inside, before easing more to pump slowly.

Your eyes stay focused on Katsuki, trying your best to remember which actions make him close his eyes in pleasure, begging you to go faster. 

Brows furrowed in concentration, you curve your fingers slightly, just like how you would when you masturbate on your own. You hope you’re doing it right, especially with how Kirishima and Midoriya watch your every move as if waiting for you to hit something.

“S-sweets, g-go a bit d-deeper”, Katsuki instructed, already having his muscles tensed. You immediately follow through with his request. Suddenly, you feel one spongy spot that makes him jolt upright, an inhumane noise escaping his lips. “Ah! Fuuuuck, sweets, f-faster! F-faster- Yes, oh gods yes, just like that, you’re doing so well f’me! F-fuUUCK!” he screams, legs twitching as he meets your pace by slamming his hips on the curl of your fingers.

Kirishima took this as his sign to move closer to you both. He licks his lips, then wraps his entire hand around Katsuki’s hard cock, pumping it slow and hard. This made the blonde cry out further, the dual sensation making him shake on the mattress,

The continuous, frantic noises Katsuki makes only spur you further to hit that sensitive spot more. You match your pace with the handjob Kirishima is giving him, “Ah.. AH.. a-ah! Oh fuck.. E-ei.. S-sweets.. ‘M g-gonna, g-gon-na c-come!” he sobbed, hole clenching around your fingers.

Kirishima smirks, panting lowly as he glanced at you, “What do you think, should we let him come?”

“Yes! P-please, sweets. I-I was s’good!”

With a grunt, you nodded towards Kirishima, giving him the silent signal to go faster, “Y-yeah ‘Suki? Come on, let me see how much of a slut y-you can be”

Your words made him whimper lowly, sniffling in pleasure before one final slam of both Kirishima’s fist and your fingers made him roll his eyes to the back of his head, mouth opening in a silent scream as bursts of cum shot out from his tip. 

Both of you pulled away, yet he still shivered, and you couldn’t tear your eyes from him, watching how his cock continued to spurt strings of cum that landed on his abs. 

Bakugo collapsed back to the bed, panting and shuddering as his climax reached its end. Normally, this would’ve been the end of it. You already managed to learn what pleasures him, what pace he loves, and where his prostate is located.

But… Fuck… You may have to re-evaluate your kinks. Because now, seeing Katsuki barely even manage to sit properly… It makes you want to do a whole lot more.

“I think I’m getting the hang of this,” you chuckled, fingers brushing over your boyfriend’s inner thigh. You let your gaze flick to Deku and Kiri, letting them feel your attention before speaking. “Watch closely,” you said, voice low and deliberate, filled with a newfound confidence after seeing Katsuki become a subby, whiny mess, “and see if I’m doing it right.” The air between you thickened with anticipation, and both of them leaned in, eyes fixed on you, waiting for your next move.

You let your touch guide Katsuki to part his legs, keeping his foot flat on the mattress, taking the opportunity while he’s still recovering from his first orgasm. You drank in the sight of his twitching hole, heart racing at it gape due to your and Izuku’s touches.

“O-oi… The hell are you g’nna do- OH!” his toes curled, jolting when he feels a wet muscle enter his hole. You tentatively licked around it, then dived right in, eating him out. “S-shit.. Babe.. W-wait…” Katsuki brought his palms to his mouth, high-pitched gasps escaping him. You continue to suck on his hole, slurping on the wetness around it.

“Holy shiiiiit” Kirishima groans at the sight, immediately unbuckling his belt to let his own cock free. Izuku follows suit afterwards, and soon, they both pump their cocks in their hands, masturbating to your newfound intensity.

Katsuki gave them a low glare, “Disgusting, fucking perverts… Ya’ into this shit? Seeing me all- u-urgh- o-o-oh..” he chokes on his own voice, tearing up at you. He can feel the way his hole contracts around your tongue, can hear how wet he is down there. His two friends chuckle lowly, merely speeding up the pace on their cocks when you worship your boyfriend with your mouth.

The soft whimpers that leaves you only added to Katsuki’s pleasure, the vibrations course through his skin. Shit, he might come from this. His cock lay heavy on his abs, pulsing and curving for attention. Breathlessly, he reached out to it, crying at the immediate relief he felt afterwards. It’s too much. He matches his pace to the same pace Izuku and Kirishima set, the pleasure building as you treat him like your meal.

Shit. Shitshitshit-

“Cumming! Sweets, fuck- I-I’m cummi- a-ahh!” he sobbed again, body spasming when he came unexpectedly. Izuku and Eijiro moaned at the sight, their peaks hitting together in perfect unison, angling their heads of their cock to Katsuki’s body, painting his skin with the whites of their cum.

You panted, letting him catch his breath for a moment. Sitting back up on the bed, you wiped your face, slick and warm, but your eyes still burned with need. Yeah… there was no denying it, you were hooked.

His body quivers with your feathery touch, more… you want more.

“Kats, baby…” You murmured, bringing his attention to you. “Can you give one more?” he whimpers, shaking his head no. “N…No.. T-too much!” he pouted, lips trembling just like the rest of his body.

“Please…? Just one,” you whisper against his ear, “Look at Izuku and Eijiro, they haven’t properly cummed yet.. They’re our visitors, baby,” You urged. “Thought you wanna be good for me..?”

He sniffles, rubbing his eyes as he tries to remind himself to keep breathing, “O-okay..” he whispers, giving you his full consent to continue. You smile, pecking his lips and his cheeks, cooing softly at him. “Thank you, baby… Tell us the safeword if it’s gonna be too much, yeah? I love you.”

Sitting back up, you looked back at the redhead first.

“Kiri… let’s switch.” Your voice was low, firm, and edged with something that made the air thrum with tension. As you moved, your gaze lingered on your breathless boyfriend, tracing every shiver before flicking to the redhead. Finally, it settled on Izuku. “And Zuku… go there.” You pointed to the spot just by Katsuki’s face, letting your command hang in the air, heavy and irresistible.

“W-wha….” Katsuki mumbles, watching with hazy eyes when you straddle his hips, removing your clothes in the process and bumping your clit against the base of his cock, which was slowly getting hard again. He flinched, “F-fuck! Sweets, ‘m s-still sensitive”

“Shhh… It’s alright, baby. I won’t move until you tell me to.” Your hands glided over his abs, each touch grounding him, steadying his racing heartbeat. When they took their places, Izuku and Eijiro’s gazes were locked on you, their posture taut with anticipation. The air around them seemed to thrum with expectation, waiting for whatever you would do or say next.

Katsuki’s palms rested against your love handles, holding you tight against him. “Can you open your mouth for Izuku, Kats? Wanna see how you look…” A tiny hiccup escaped him, betraying how tense he was under your gaze. He opened his mouth, taking in the fat mushroom tip of Izuku’s cock, giving kitten licks and tiny sucks.

A low groan escaped Izuku, whispering praises, “Ffuck Kacchan.. Your mouth feels so good…” he nudges more of his length, more noises of pleasure leaving him until Katsuki fully took in his length, the blonde gagging slightly at the girth.

Izuku didn’t move, every muscle tense as he waited patiently for your next direction, his eyes locked on yours with a mix of eagerness and hesitation. You let your gaze drift back, slowly, deliberately, and found Kirishima already straining with anticipation, his chest rising and falling a little faster, pupils blown wide. The air between you seemed to thrum with tension as you held eye contact, feeling the silent heat radiating from him, the way his body subtly shifted closer as if he could somehow lean into your command. “Ei.. Part his legs”

He already knew what you were implying. He takes his cock to tease against Katsuki’s hole, before slowly sliding inside inch by inch until he is buried deep inside. “Ah.. Bakugo, s-so tight…” Katsuki cried out, despite gagging around Deku’s dick, his hand gripping you tightly.

And finally, you take his own cock, sliding it inside your own heat, your pussy clenching hard on his thick length.

After a few minutes to let him get used to the sensation, you, Izuku, and Eijiro seemed to have some neuro-connection, your control snapping and suddenly going all out on Katsuki.

Bakugo can barely form a single thought. He wants to moan, scream and cry at how good everything feels, but his mouth is being used by fucking Izuku. His eyes were crossed, mindlessly sucking on the weight on his mouth. He can feel the veins on the cock, gagging when the tip continuously hits the back of his throat.

Fuck… Izuku is so big. Hearing the taunts Izuku growls in his ear pushes Katsuki to suck harder. He immediately started hollowing his mouth, and his hands reached up from your waist to the base of Izuku’s cock, pumping it. Flat tongue memorising the taste of his pre-cum  

Then there was Shitty hair, grabbing Katsuki’s legs and pressing them to each side of your waist, putting him in a somewhat missionary position. Kirishima smacks each side of Katsuki’s ass, slowly thrusting in and out, and then going faster and faster until he’s plowing at him.

Big.. So fucking big… He feels stretched out, massive cock curved perfectly to press against his prostate. The bed creaks forward and backwards with the shared movements of Izuku and Kirishima. 

Fffuck. Feels so good, Ah- Mnghhh- The overstimulation is delicious, sensitivity making everything sensation the right amount of pain and pleasure combined. He screams muffled against Izuku’s dick, squealing when Kirishima uses him like a cocksleeve. 

And lastly, there’s you. You bounce on his hardened cock, tip barely inside before you slam back down, repeating the process over and over. Your hands are everywhere on his body, tweaking his nipples, sucking more marks on any skin left untainted. 

You make sure you push his cock to the deepest part of you, keeping him surrounded in your pussy’s heat. 

It’s too much… The combined stimulation makes him feel like a slut.

But he absolutely loves it.

He relishes control of his body, letting the three of you do whatever you want.

Izuku slams deeper on his mouth, messily letting saliva coat down Katsuki’s chin as he continues to ease his throat. Kirishima acts as if he has no control over his hips, heavy balls slapping the curve of Katsuki’s ass, concentrated on hitting his prostate over and over.

Fuck me! Use me like a toy! A-ahh.. M-Mngh- P-please… 

Intangible babbles coming from Katsuki’s lips only pushes you to go further. You use him like your personal dildo, rubbing your clit on his tip, grinding against it, then pushing it back inside.

M-more… Ngh.. More! More! He himself is growing addicted, screaming in delight in every movement the three of you do.

He swallows every drop of Izuku’s cum that shoots down his throat.

He lets Kirishima defile the deepest part of his insides with warm release.

He shoots his load inside you, each spurt making you clench and milk him for all he has.  

Fuck… Sssso G-gggoood…

His memory is hazy after that first orgasm. From what he barely remembers, it lasted a few more hours, with the three of you changing positions a few times. 

There was once when he was on all fours, cock pistoning in and out of him in an unforgiving pace, thick cums worth many rounds already sloshing inside him as his ass ripples in each thrust. 

Then the other knelt back down, tongue messily eating him out, keeping his thighs locked around your head. Whatever it is, by the end, he was absolutely spent, covered and filled with everyone’s release.

The room was quiet now, the only sounds the faint rustle of sheets and Katsuki’s steadying breaths. You sat beside him on the bed, gently brushing stray strands of hair from his damp forehead, your fingers lingering just long enough to soothe him. “Shhh…” you murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to his temple after he groaned awake. He leaned into your touch, still trembling slightly, and you rubbed comforting circles across his shoulders, letting him feel that safe, grounding warmth after the bath you gave him when he was barely conscious.

By the time you glanced toward the door, Izuku and Kirishima were already gone, the soft click of the closing door marking their departure after they also had their own share of aftercare. They bid you and Katsuki a goodbye, even offering some food and medicine they remember Katsuki taking after every 'arrangement' they used to have all those years ago.

The emptiness of the room only made the moment feel more intimate, as if it were just the two of you suspended in time. Katsuki’s chest rose and fell with slower, more even breaths now, and the tension in his jaw softened under your fingers. You hummed softly, pressing your forehead to his shoulder, inhaling the faint scent of him that still clung to the sheets.

“You were amazing,” you whispered, brushing his cheek gently with your thumb. “Thank you… for trusting me. For letting me… experience this with you.” Your voice was low, tender, a mixture of relief and awe, and he gave a small, breathy laugh that made your heart clench. He murmured something inaudible in reply, pressing a brief, weak kiss to your hand and lips.

“I love you, Katsuki”

“I love you too, Sweets” he whispered.

⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔

A/N: I can't believe I ovulated so bad to the point that I wrote this ?? HAHAHAHA Once hell week is done, I'll most likely go back to writing fluff/crack (do people still call it crack..?) Additionally, I logged into Tumblr after ~3 days, and I can't believe my previous work got over 1.1k likes?! Thank you so much! It was such a cool surprise seeing the amount of support I got, especially since I logged in just after taking my test! I was almost shy with all the comments, and I'm sorry I wasn't able to reply to everything:(

[kurooh]

☆ ‧₊˚ ⋅ SHOWTIME, SEASON 1.

CAST LIST. midoriya izuku, bakugo katsuki, todoroki shoto, kirishima eijirou, kaminari denki, sero hanta, shinsou hitoshi, takami keigo x fem! reader.

SYNOPSIS. when shiketsu studios shuts down as explosively as it does, you’re sure your career as a pornstar is finished! within less than a week of being on your own, the prestigious and well-loved UA studios invites you to join them. it’s clear that they’ve had an eye on you since you signed with shiketsu, but you definitely weren’t expecting all of their top stars to want more than just a piece of you.

WARNINGS. 18+ content, mdni. quirkless pornstar au, reverse harem, graphic smut, all characters are around 25, & each part will have individual warnings.

NOTES. welcome to showtime . . again! i am excited to introduce this semi-new series and plan to actually finish it. if you’d like to be tagged when there are new ‘episodes’, leave a comment letting me know to add you to the taglist. if you’d like to be taken off, send me an ask. happy reading! remember to reblog or comment ♡

PROLOGUE.

EPISODE 01 — GREED

EPISODE 02 — SLOTH

INTERLUDE: UA x VS

kurooh 2025 © all rights reserved, please don’t repost my work anywhere or claim it as your own.