⊹₊ 𐔌 🏎️ THIS IS FORMULA 1 DRIVE TO SURVIVE ! ★ 🏁 aali ⋆ she her ⋆ twenty five ! mdni - nsfw + dark content is featured. writing blog for @tteokdorokimain ! now that's podium, baby ! my alter ego's smiling. watch me - watch me !? my heart shouts. like an x-game, you’ll start to drive me crazy. now i’ve got adrenaline running through my veins. p1 in katsuki's heart ! ♡ i do not take requests.
Soft tagging @blockcat-safari, @jackdraw-spwrite, @cityofangeisislying, @audioeidolon, @venusplantt, @bardicc-inspo and @voidindite in case they would like to play along :)
(Feel free to jump in if this looks fun and I forgot to tag you!)
I wasn’t tagged and just found this through scrolling but I am so happy because Idiots in love is (one of) my favorite tropes/tags. MY IDIOTS TO LOVERS IS SO PRECIOUS TO ME. And I also consider myself to likely be in that kind of situation as well. I probably will just overthink and maybe gaslight myself if anyone ever showed romantic interest in me. Also it’s just so silly and fun. I love my Idiots in Love tag. Let’s be silly and share a brain cell together! Idiots to lovers to so fun it makes me smile so much my cheeks hurt. But Idiots in love already are hilarious. Gimme gimme I want and need more of my lovable idiots. This life is too short to not enjoy the silliness and awkwardness of moments of love. Whether it is platonic or romantic or something else all together. I love Love. Anyways, I’ll be tagging some mutuals in case they’d like to try this quiz for themselves.
considering domestic fluff makes an appearance in like 90% of my fics, this feels very accurate. I’ve been told this is what characterizes my writing lol. definitely one of my favorites :)
no pressure tags: @heartofafiend @thechaoticarchivist @jellyelle @angelamajiki <3
You say yes to a ride from Midoriya one night while you're hitchhiking. what could go wrong? (everything, apparently.)
hitchhiking reader x yandere Deku
warnings: hitchhiking, noncon drugging, yandere Deku, extreme dub con kissing and oral sex (f!receiving), coming in pants, a bit of cum play, mentions of stalking, just the tip, coming inside, light breeding kink in the end, pet names like baby and angel, a bit of mindfuckery and gaslighting, not thoroughly proofread. please let me know if I missed anything, and please enjoy!
word count: 4.3k
minors/blank/ageless blogs DNI!
also available on ao3!
As if your night couldn’t get any worse, fat, heavy drops of rain splatter against your head, your arms a measly shield from the downpour. You’re drenched in seconds, but its better to hide your tears from any nosy passersby that might glance your way.
You think its close to midnight. Your phone died hours ago, so you have no real way to tell, save for the pitch blackness that surrounds you. You don’t get spooked easily, but your gut churns with every lonely, soiled step you take. And then a savior comes: green haired with matching eyes, a scar running down the length of his cheek, a smile so genuine you actually deflate a little from the tension coiling around your body when he rolls down the window.
“Midoriya?” You blurt out when you finally blink away the rain that’s rolled into your eyes, swiping the back of your hand against your cheeks. You had class with him last semester, you think. He typically sat in the front of class, and the only reason why he was so recognizable was because of the shock of green hair, and those gnarly scars on his hands that you always wondered about whenever he’d raise them to answer the professors questions. He smiles at you, kind and bright, almost as if he was surprised that you remembered him.
“Yeah,” he hums, bright eyes soft in the darkness of the night. “Need a ride?”
On one hand, of fucking course you want to say yes. Its in the middle of the night, pouring down, and you’re too far away from your apartment off campus to not have blisters on your feet by the time you make it home. You want to say yes, to take him up on his offer, if to just get out of the rain for a few minutes. But on the other hand…
It was always something about Midoriya that made you just a bit uneasy. He seemed nice, for the most part, very smart and observant, but you think that that’s where the problem lays; his observance. You two didn’t interact much when you had class together, but it was almost as if every single time he looked at you, he was always, somehow, seeing through you. Maybe he just had those kind of eyes; big and rounded, almost unnerving when looked at for a second too long, made the more primal part of your brain scream predator. Midoriya never actually did anything to make you feel so uneasy, besides his usual look at you whenever the two of you crossed paths.
But something deep within the pit of your belly tells you that you are being hunted by something foreign, by some large apex predator that hasn’t yet revealed itself to you, but you know it lingers over your shoulder every time you think that you’re safe. You know you’re probably wrong, that its probably just anxiety gnawing at your gut from the missing pairs of clothes from your hamper, from the lock on your apartment door that was broken a few weeks ago, from the way your car wouldn’t start despite it being in pretty good condition, forcing you to be out here, in the dark, in the rain, all by your lonesome.
So you say yes, because you’re afraid it would be more rude than anything to decline the offer from the nice guy in your class, the guy who always had extra pencils, and didn’t mind tutoring those who struggled a bit with the course work. You say yes, and you think nothing of it when he offers you a blanket he so conveniently already has stored in his backseat and wrap yourself inside of it. You say yes when he turns the heat on and offers you what seems to be unopened water bottle, guzzling it down despite the almost bitter aftertaste twang that coats your tongue. You say yes when he offers to take you home, despite your eyes growing so heavy, despite how he heads in the direction away from your home, despite how you never actually told him where you lived, before your head lolls to the side and you’re sleep within minutes.
…
Waking up is an almost taxing affair. Everything hurts, and is so heavy, and your tongue feels like sandpaper in your mouth. You groan, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand as you blink them open, squinting despite your lamp being set on its lowest setting in the corner of the room. You pause for a second, heart ticking up nervously as you search your surroundings, ready to panic, before you settle ever so slightly.
You’re…in your room, which shouldn’t be so weird and off-putting, except for the fact that you don’t remember getting here, nor telling Midoriya where you lived. You don’t remember much, honestly, after getting inside of his car, and you want to panic at the thought that maybe he’s kidnapped you, except you’re laying under your sheets, and you’re looking at the familiar posters on your walls, the desk in the corner that holds your makeup and laptop, and yet—
And yet, it almost feels as if everything is wrong, as if everything has been slightly shifted to the left, and your body can’t quite keep track with the changes. You go to sit up, and that’s when you feel it, around your ankle; the padded cuff, pink in color, and fluffy on the inside to—
“Keep your skin from chafing,” Midoriya finishes your internal thought (how the fuck did he know what you were thinking?) as he walks into your room, and that’s not your hallway that you saw behind him, so how the fuck is this your room? Your heart kicks in your chest as he makes his way inside of your room—but its not quite your room, is it? The longer you stare at it, the more you take in the subtle changes, the differences that he couldn’t quite replicate; your desk chair had a chip on the bottom left leg, your sheets had needed to be washed because they still smelled of the juice you had spilled the day before and these smell of fresh detergent, you didn’t clean your dresser this morning and forgot to put away the new lotion you got, and its not there anymore.
“Where am I?” You whisper, tongue stuck and peeling from the roof of your mouth. You can’t breathe, and you’re not sure whether or not you’ve taken in a full breath since you opened your eyes. Midoriya stands at the foot of your bed with those same kind eyes, except now, you’re not sure whether they were kind or just glazed over with a look that always promised ruin for you. You want to cry but your entire body has seized in its spot on the bed, with the three pillows behind you, and that one stuffy you were gifted as a child that you brought with you when you moved out.
“You’re home,” Izuku says softly, his eyebrows knitting as if in confusion. “Remember? I found you out in the rain, and I brought you home. You were so exhausted, that you fell asleep in the car, and I had to bring you inside.”
“This isn’t my home,” you answer back as soon as he tries to put on that disarming smile, but you see through it. You see the sharp canines that he tries to hide behind plush lips; you see your jugular hanging from the corners of his red stained mouth. “Where the fuck am I?” You ask a bit harsher this time, glancing down at where your leg is cuffed to the base of your desk, giving you just a bit of wiggle room without being too free.
Midoriya doesn’t say anything for a long while. He just stares at you for a moment too long, his wide forrest green eyes assessing before he smiles softly. He moves toward you, and you flinch back, scooting away until your back touches the headboard behind you, knees brought to your chest, but he doesn’t mind the scurrying, the bit of chase. He only sits on the side of the bed, much too close for comfort, lays what is meant to be a reassuring hand on your leg, that trembles beneath his hot touch.
“I figured,” he murmurs, using his free hand to brush away a stray eyelash from your cheek, smiling ever so softly when you flinch again, but do not try to attack him. Progress, he thinks, progress already. “If I made your new home stylized after what you were familiar with, then that would make the transition easier.”
You want to vomit. Your stomach turns at the gentleness in his eyes, at how he seems to swoon every time he touches you and you don’t go to claw his eyes out. Belatedly, you realize that you’ve been swapped out of your rain soaked clothes, that you’re dressed in your usual wear of just a pair of cotton panties and a tee shirt that’s a size too big on you. You want to lash out, to run and scream and bite and hide but—but you’ve always be keen to freeze on the spot whenever bad things happened. You want to cry, you want to do all of these things, but you can only sit there, stiff and numb, when Midoriya begins to trail thick fingers up and down the length of your calf.
“Please let me go home,” you whisper in a hiccup, your body finally starting to kick to life, barely so, as the tears begin to swell. Midoriya frowns, shushing you when the first sob starts, swiping away a stray tear that runs down the curve of your cheek. The contact, for some reason, makes you cry even harder, despite his gentleness with you. Midoriya coos softly as he brings you into his chest, cradling you as you cry and sob and hiccup, wetting his shirt, clinging to the sides of it in a tight grip.
“Oh, my poor baby,” he sighs, shuffling and rearranging you until he’s brought you fully into his lap, until you hide your face in your captors neck and sob so greatly that he has to rock you gently to subside the ache. “You already are home.”
That only makes you cry more, but Midoriya is so patient with you. Its sweet, really, the way he brings your legs into his lap until you’re curled into the tiniest ball against him. How he smooths a hand over your hair and kisses at your forehead and temples. How he swipes a heavy palm against your cheeks to wipe away the tears, and shushes you when the sobs make your entire frame quake.
When your crying finally quiets, he pulls away ever so slightly, bending his neck down so that he can look you in the eye. He cups your chin between two thick fingers gently, guiding your gaze to his, until all you can see is his concerned features, twisted up in pain at your ache.
“Do you feel better now, angel?” Midoriya asks softly, softly rubbing at the skin of your chin with his thumb. You look so cute like this, he thinks, with your eyes all red rimmed, and your lips swollen and puffy, and that pathetic little look you always get when you’re so close to giving up. Its adorable, really.
He doesn’t let you go until you give a reluctant nod, but that’s not the truth, it is so far from the actual truth that you want to shout at him that you want to go home, to your real home, that you want to get the fuck away from him or beat the shit out of him, or it doesn’t really matter as long as he is a million feet away from you. But you don’t say anything, don’t do anything except sit there as stiff as stone as he brushes his lips against yours in what’s supposed to be a gentle first kiss, in what really is the first step in your assault.
But you don’t fight back. You never really have, and Midoriya knew this about you, learned it all in the time he spent watching you for so, so long. You’re a sweet, pathetic little thing, really; how could he let you stay in a world that always treated you so cruelly? How could he sit back and watch the world trample over you without a second thought, and watch you just roll over and take it every time? You deserved better than to be treated like that, and he could and would always treat you so, so much better.
He told himself that he would wait until you were better adjusted, but he just can’t. You’re looking up at him with those sweet, doe eyes, with that trembling bottom lip, your hands gripped so tightly in the front of his shirt, that he doesn’t think you’ve realized just how tight you’ve been holding onto him for this long. Its a sign, he thinks, a sign that you need him to stabilize you, that you need him to hold onto in order to ground you, that you need him, that you need him, that you need him.
Midoriya rearranges you until you’re propped up against your pillows, wordlessly hands you your childhood stuffy, and you realize that this isn’t some carbon copy, but the actual stuffy from when you were so little, that one of the button eyes had to be replaced and didn’t quite match the other. You stare at the beloved thing, unaware of the way Midoriya makes his way down, down, down until he’s gripping your hips to gently scoot you down ever so slightly. He parts your thighs, and doesn’t fuss when you try to snap them back closed, his hands firm but so kind against your heated flesh.
“Please,” you whimper, already aware of what’s going to happen, terrified that you won’t fight back as hard as you should, terrified that you already know that your fight died the moment you woke up.
“Shh,” Midoriya hushes you, lowering his face and lifting your shirt until he’s met with the crotch of your panties. “Just let me make you feel better, okay, baby?”
Whatever protest you might have said dies in your throat the moment Midoriya kisses you over the expanse of your underwear. Its a soft kiss, featherlight, just barely enough to make your hips twitch in response. You watch the ceiling, pick apart the patterns that should have been there in your own apartment as he kisses you and kisses you.
He licks a broad expanse up the entirety of your cunt through your panties, his mouth and tongue hot against you. You squirm from the feeling, trying not to make a single noise, but Midoriya keeps licking and licking at you until your panties stick to your lips uncomfortably. And even then, he continues, pursing his lips, opening your thighs wider, to find your clit through the wetted fabric, wrapping his mouth around the throbbing thing until you inhale sharply.
“There you go,” he whispers against you, and you hate yourself for peeking down between your legs, know that the sight will haunt you for the rest of your days, despite how it makes arousal pool from your empty hole. Midoriya looks drunk, almost, in between your legs. You never realized how wide he was, until the burn of your inner thighs screamed at you, the more he pressed you open, until your knees were damn near touching either side of the bed. His eyes are low and hazy, bright green focused solely on you, on your pouting mouth and twitching nose to keep from letting the pleasure escape you. His tongue lolls from his mouth, his lips wetted from where he licks and licks at your cunt through your panties until the slick outline of your lips is clear.
“Do you like it when I lick your pussy, baby?” Midoriya asks softly, kissing at the slickness of your lips, making you whine in response. He knows that’s the most he’ll get from you, and he doesn’t mind, knows that his baby is still so shy. He hates to make things worse, hates for you to feel more embarrassed, but he can’t help himself when he peels your panties away from your cunt, moans under his breath at how your slick connects and slaps against your lips when he folds the fabric away.
“Such a pretty little thing,” he whispers, tugging your panties down your legs until you are rid of them. You throw your head back, hiccuping a little gasp, a moan, when he fully engulfs your cunt inside of his mouth, humming loudly at the taste. You cover your eyes with the back of your arm, the other holding your stuffy tightly to your chest.
“Please,” you whimper once more, and you’re not sure if its a cry for him to keep going, or to stop, anymore. Midoriya continues, anyway, gripping your thighs so tightly in his palms that you fear they may bruise by tomorrow. He slurps loudly at your hole, before pulling back to spit on your cunt, lapping up the mixture of his drool and your arousal into his greedy mouth.
His lips find your clit and you can’t help the cry of pleasure that escapes you when he suckles it inside of his mouth. His eyes flutter shut, as if in euphoria from your taste, from your clit spasming against his tongue, as if the way your hips grind against his face brings him just as much pleasure as it does you.
Your orgasm washes over you quicker than you realized, your entire body coiled tight until it snaps, and the cry you let out is guttural. In a sense, you hope you’re loud enough that if someone were close by, they could hear you, could rescue you. But the way you moan his name, you doubt anyone would think that he was doing anything besides giving you the best pleasure you’ve ever felt in your life.
“Deku,” he mutters against you, tongue still lapping at your hole, drinking you up. You’re sensitive now, hips jerking wildly, until he has to hold you still, hold you down against the bed, forcing you to take his pleasure. “Call me Deku, baby. Please? Can I hear you say it?”
You shake your head, tears springing to your eyes as you clutch your stuffy harder against you, throwing your arm away from your face as you hold onto the pillows beneath you for stability. You feel like you’ve been flipped upside down, like your belly is pulling you in every direction as he continues lapping at you, flicking your clit with his tongue until your entire lower body shakes.
“Please, angel, I wanna hear you say it,” he pleads, mouth encompassing your pussy as he looks up at you from underneath his lashes, his lids heavy and low as he sucks and sucks at your clit until you think he may be pulling your soul out through the swollen thing. This time, you feel your orgasm creeping up on you, both too slow and too fast, so overwhelming and breathtaking that you can’t help the tiny whimper that escapes you,
“Deku, please, I can’t.”
He groans just as loud as you do when you cum, with his tongue in your hole and his eyes rolled far into his head. Your teeth grit against the onslaught of pleasure as he keeps licking at you, and you finally find it in yourself to weakly try and push his head away. Deku relents after a minute, after he hears your pathetic little hiccuping cry, and finally detaches himself from your pussy. Strings of your slick and arousal connect him, and he licks them away, despite your little hiccuped cry and the tug of his hair.
“So good, baby, you did such a good job,” he praises you, sitting up on his knees to devour you in a kiss. This time, you do kiss back, and you blame the endorphins being sent to your brain from the nonstop pleasure you just experienced. His lips taste of you, and you don’t think you can breathe when he presses his tongue into your mouth.
Its sloppy, the kiss, full of spit and tongue and teeth as you bite at him until he bleeds, and he only runs his tongue along your canines harder to taste the copper. When he pulls back, you’re breathless, your stuffy grasped tightly in your hands, the other wrapped loosely in dark green locks. Deku takes you in for a second, slightly lifts your shirt until your perked up nipples are exposed, and he chuckles softly when you try to cover them with the stuffy.
“Such a cute little angel, aren’t you?” He whispers against your mouth. You can feel him undoing his belt against you, and the panic rises ever so slightly once more, but he must be able to taste it in the hesitance of your tongue against his. “Just the tip, okay? Alright?”
And even then, just the tip looks to be too much. You pull away to look between you, eyes widening at the sight of his reddened cock, thick and curved toward his stomach. Its a fat thing, with forking veins that make it look even more intimidating, and you find yourself blurting,
“You came,” you mumble, taking in the thick spurts of white that cover his leaking tip, that muddle and sticky in his pubes. “You came while eating me out.”
He has the nerve to look a bit flustered, and chuckles under his breath a quiet, yeah. You can only watch as he scoops some of the cum that he’s covered in, rubs it against his fingers until they’re coated in it, and slides them against your puffy cunt. You jerk at the feeling, gasping under your breath as he covers you in his scent, in his spend. He does it again and again until you’re both sticky with it, until he slides the entirety of his first finger inside of you, covered and coated in his cum still, and you belatedly worry about whether or not its enough to breed you. But all thoughts escape your head when Deku sits on his knees before you, looking up at you with wide, hazy eyes as he fists his cock at the base and hovers it over you.
“Just the tip, yeah, baby?” He kisses you before you can answer, and nudges your puffy hole with the fat tip of his cock. You suck in a shaky breath, eyes clenched shut as you prepare yourself for the otherworldly stretch. It burns, just a bit, as he presses just barely inside of you.
“You gotta make some room for me,” he tells you against your mouth, cupping your cheek despite the fact that its still covered in cum and your slick. You want to cringe away but he holds your mouth against his own, as he nudges forward again and again until the fat head of dick presses inside of you. You groan, folding in on yourself as much as you can, whimpering against his mouth as he tongues at your teeth.
“Too big,” you whine, pressing at his lower belly with your free hand, sticky with cum, walls of muscle flexing beneath your touch. Deku only shudders at your voice, at your touch, at the warm wrap of your cunt around him.
“Its just the tip, angel,” he whispers, before pulling back and thrusting shallowly inside of you. You scratch at his belly, the other hand clawing at your stuffy, trying to catch your breath as he fucks you with just the tip. He moves from cupping your cheek to rubbing at your swollen clit, inhaling shakily when you thrash beneath him from the sensitivity. “Doing so good for me, angel.”
Your teeth grit, your eyes fluttering open and shut, blearily watching the way Deku jerks his cock off with the tip inside of you, the other hand rubbing almost achingly sweet circles against your clit. Its a lewd, disgusting sight, the both of you smeared in his cum, and yet you don’t think that the tears that escape you are all from panic and fear. He stands on his knees, eyes focused on where his thick head rests inside of your warm cunt, how he fists the shaft again and again, how your clit swells under his fingers until he’s sure you’re both about to cum.
“I love you, angel, you know that?” He whimpers, eyes squeezed shut for a solid second before he’s forcing them open to watch the way your face crumples at his confession, how your cunt tightens around him at his words. “From the first moment I saw you, all those years ago, knew you were the love of my life.”
When you look back at the memory, you try to convince yourself that you came as hard as you did, not because of his words, but because of his incessant thumb on your clit, the spasming of his cock insides of you. Deku follows only seconds later, chest heaving as he curls around you, stroking his cock until it erupts inside of you, thick ropes of cum filling you up until it leaks from around his thick head, spilling down the curve of his balls to muddle in the sheets beneath you. Neither of you say anything for a long time, both of you trying to catch your breath as he presses gentle kisses up and down the entirety of your throat.
“I’m not on birth control,” you whisper, still clinging to your stuffy, eyes focused on the unfamiliar pattern of the ceiling above you. Deku doesn’t say anything for a long time, before he lifts his head, his smile gentle and kind and sweet. He kisses you softly on the mouth once, twice, grinning when he feels you kiss him back ever so slightly.
“I know.”
thank you all so much for reading! kind comments/likes/asks/reblogs are so greatly appreciated! love ya <3
𓂃⋆.˚𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓: a little moment held between two people, the stars and the universe.
𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: astronaut!suguru x astronaut!reader | 1.2k | no content warnings, sfw | reposted from my old account 🤍 hope you enjoy!
there is always only a few inches between you and certain death.
the thought is cruel in its simplicity.
it keeps you up during a night that isn’t really a night, but you know you should be sleeping anyway. you press up against the thick glass, feel its cold and unfeeling protectiveness on your fingertips, marveling at how you will never be so close as you are now to touching everything and nothing all at once.
your forehead dips in a hushed reverence, and you are quiet in your vigil of the universe that birthed you.
and astronaut!suguru is there too.
you can feel him before you see him.
it is something in the way that he moves, splicing through weightlessness like had been born within it. suguru is something otherworldly. you feel like he was never from the same earth you were. more like somewhere deep into the galaxy stretching out beyond your fingers, in between a supernova, amidst in a milky ocean of lavender stars.
you don’t say anything as he drifts closer, and neither does he.
there is no need to.
out of all your crew, you and suguru are the quietest by nature. you both understood the fragility of a fleeting silence. it is very hard to find true silence, because there is your mother earth who floats beneath your feet, who yearns for you to come home. and even though her screams are silenced because you have traveled so far into the vacuum of space that you cannot hope to ever hear her, it still reverberates through your bones. it reminds you that you are in fact still human, and not a weightless being unaware of its own existence. so, to be able to achieve something that dulls that constant hum in the back of your mind was precious.
you know suguru understands it.
he is next to you now.
it was a mystery to you as to why he was not the captain on this mission.
not that astronaut!satoru didn’t deserve it, he did. he was the best of them all, the strongest. but it was suguru who could look at a person and just know them. the way he could map the constellations in their moles and scars, see every strand of hair that held every memory and thought and feeling. everybody on board gravitated to him, seeking solace in him when the sheer emptiness of space became too much.
because suguru feels like home.
like your mother earth.
to you, at least.
so, you don’t mind the fact that he is in your space right now, because he always knew how to share things. always softly, spiritually. you both watch the vast expanse of space rolling out before your eyes. his hand shifts almost imperceptibly closer to yours. you like to think you can feel its warmth seeping into yours.
it is such a small gesture.
but it grounds you.
makes you remember that you are solid and whole. it is easy to forget who you are and what you are so far away from earth. even if you can still see the swirling clouds and typhoons from your ship, or watch the sun rise and dip behind her curves. countries and borders do not mean anything to you here. in a way, time doesn’t either. it is an elastic band, stretching at the start of a cycle, slacking towards the end. minutes feel like hours, and seconds collapse into a single heartbeat. the stars do not tell you anything either. they have burned through the rise and fall of the ancients, and will continue to long after your mission is over.
a blink of the cosmic eye of the universe.
inhale, exhale.
in, and… out.
suguru’s breathing has synchronized with yours. another perfectly human rhythm with its own life that is different to anything else aboard. you don’t know if he does it on purpose or not. you don’t understand him as much as you wanted to. suguru is so different to satoru, who bounces off the walls with a restless energy during their downtime like he just cannot stop moving. satoru consumes the space, filling it out with blues and reds and purples, but suguru seeks the edges. the leftover spaces that are still black and white.
you guess that is how he exists so perfectly with satoru.
maybe that is where he finds you too.
you turn your head slightly, catching his profile. his violet eyes are fixed on something beyond the scope of your comprehension. you’ve seen that look on suguru before. it’s the same look he gets when he’s studying the ships data, or calculating course correction. absolute attention, clinical focus.
and he’s looking at you now.
something in his expression makes your breath catch in your throat.
what does he see about you that you cannot? can he see your blood vessels weakening, your bones becoming soft and brittle as the space that you love is in fact killing you faster? does he also notice that your face has started to swell, and that you cannot think as fast as you used to? you try to swallow against the lump in your throat, but the air is too dry, your tongue far too heavy.
suguru notices.
of course he does.
he softens his gaze, and murmurs, “you’re not sleeping.”
you laugh, a cracked and broken little thing.
“neither are you.”
the words become particles that drift off into the air vents, lost and recycled inside the ship’s steady hum. you let the silence settle between you again so that it feels less like drowning and more like floating. suguru must have been watching you for days, logging your changes into the catalogue in his brain. you used to think he’d been trained for this, how to mould himself to be what other people needed him to be.
but you know it’s just him.
your hand stays where it is on the rail, but his moves closer so that your thumbs are just about to touch. there is no pressure for you to close the gap, there never is. it is an invitation between two people who have said what they needed to without words, who have always known it.
you let your eyes flutter close.
a quiet surrender.
“is it selfish of me to still love it?”
it.
being here — in this place. is it selfish to love the universe, to continue to hover between the stars that are killing you?
suguru doesn’t miss a beat.
“no.”
he would never call it selfish. suguru understands that some things are worth the cost. something like a martyr does. for the first time in days, the glass doesn’t feel so cold under your fingers. you open your eyes, drawn to him like a magnet. suguru doesn’t look away. he is holding the weight of this vastness with you, steady and sure, still breathing alongside you like you are tethered together. if you so happen to drift, if you break your vigil, suguru will be there.
holding it for you both.
the station hums around you, a fragile and artificial cradle in a universe that does not care if you live or die.
cw: literally just smut. cunnilingus, vaginal penetration, mild banter.
"you know... i think we have the kind of sex people would pay to see."
as you say it, your legs bend slightly towards your chest, still jellylike from trembling and damp between the thighs, a pose that is playful yet still alluring. kenpachi's large hand raises, posing it onto your knees, and firmly (but not roughly, he's learned to handle you more gently), presses down, as if the idea of covering any part of your flesh from his watchful, wanting gaze is abhorrent to him.
"how so?" he asks.
even if he's just cum, you know he's still raring to go - after all, you haven't been tired out yet, and he hasn't yet lost in any matter of love and war.
he leans in further, first kissing at your collarbone, the salty sheen of sweat precious to his tongue, then pressing more kisses to your sternum, and again, he advances lower down the midline of your torso, lower still over your belly to the soft mound of your pelvis, until his lips graze at your wet clit.
you shudder, and he laughs, the rumble of which is like rolling thunder. your hands find their way into his hair, still adamant that you'd finish your thought.
"good chemistry," you add. his tongue laps at your clit and you sigh, your legs finding support over his shoulders.
"that it?"
his tongue flicks again, and you sigh. "not to mention that you're so fucking..." you trail off with another moan.
"fucking what?"
"sexy," you say, breathlessly. from your vantage point, he's satisfied, teeth bared in a wicked, playful smile.
"got any ideas?" he asks.
your thighs clench around him as he kisses and sucks idly at your arousal, mixed with his own cum from your tryst just moments ago, and you shut your eyes tight trying to think.
"roleplay? i, the-" you gasp at the sudden suction around your clit. "... a, a gladiator maybe-"
"gladiator, huh? winning your hand?"
"yes... yes!"
you're responding more to his ministrations between your legs than your thoughts, now and he works dutifully, like it's only a matter of course, distracting the thought of you, getting his face wet and dirty with the mix of your essences.
"huh... and i'm naked i suppose?"
he stops and you have a reprieve, beads of sweat breaking across your forehead.
"you're naked too in the stands aren't you?"
"is..." you take a moment to catch your breath, heart pounding in your chest, "is that important?"
"something nice to look at while i fight, obviously."
he rises until he's on his knees now, and you feel his cock, thick and warm, and heavy resting against your slightly parted thighs, an omen of what's to come.
and to cum.
"and then we fuck over the vanquished, right?"
excitement rushes through you like a jolt of electricity as his tip presses flush against your accepting entrance. he lines up, not pressing yet until you've reached for his hand, and intertwined your fingers.
yet another way you've softened him.
palms pressed together, he slides back in, slow, accommodating and still in control, and your grip tightens in need.
and you let out a breathless, flushed and happy, "yes."
Okay okay I have to share a athlete!yuuji vision with you-
Imagine like ur part of a friend group in college and yuuji’s also in that group. Through others you know he lowkey likes you but you don’t want it to be awkward so nothing ever really happens (but you see the way he looks at you ughh)
One day you’re hanging out in your dorm room, just you and yuuji, and he shares how he’s been having a tough time, the team hasn’t been winning a lot, his mental health, etc etc. U think ‘fuck it’ and decide to go down on this man because you just want him to feel better and he deserves it, sucking him off the way he always dreamt of. Bro can’t believe it’s real and he’s so desperate for it- he ends up fucking you with deep, slow strokes in missionary but can’t help himself and fucks your brains out in prone bone.
Afterwards you’re not together because you two don’t want the friend group immediately finding out about it- it stays vague and the two of you think it’s best for the friendship not to continue fucking but y’all can’t get your hands off of each other in private. It’s such a messy desperate fwb situation- ughhh i need him
nomnomnom we are big fans of secret relationships here and big buff yuuji itadori yumyumyum
i think how it really starts is that he’d feel really guilty about the blowjob situation. sure he was sad, who doesn’t when their team isn’t performing to standard and they’re constantly losing? but he never expected to get that far with you just for being down. yuuji never thought his best friend would sink to her knees before him, wide eyed and tender when her touch and beg him to let her take his mind off things. make him feel better.
he remembers his nails leaving streaks in the couch’s fabric, his thighs tensing and taut in the muscle as you’d smoothed over them and tugged down his zipper with your teeth. “focus on me,” you’d said, palm rolling over his shaft in his jeans — barely contained and throbbing to life with every breath yuuji took.
itadori tried, he really had, eyes everywhere all over your face all at once — but the first delve of your tongue across his bright red tip shattered him completely because you’d moaned around him at the taste and the sound caused a pulse in his balls. your mouth is the warmest thing he’s ever been in, you soak him in saliva and rub his tip along the inner lining of his cheek and the whole time you look up yuuji like you’re proud of all he’s done. for holding out on the orgasm that’s about to break surface and for keeping faith in his team despite the rough start to the season.
you don’t mind when he gently moves your head, deft fingers massaging your scalp as he forces you down his length until you feel his precum cascade down your throat. each gag and swallow pulls a hiccuped whine from the centre of yuuji’s chest and he really can’t believe his luck with you. you’re so special, you’re the best, you even swallow when he cums too soon and thick white spills underneath your tongue — you kiss him then, with his seed on your lips like a pretty gloss
i think initially he heads to your dorm to apologise. his words rehearsed until they’re settled into every crevice of his brain and flowers in his hand nearly crushed from how tight he’s gripping them. girls like flowers. he thinks. you’re a girl. his friend who’s not his girlfriend. a pretty girl. all hope on him is lost.
once he’s in your dorm though, you’re changing to go to one of nobara’s games — half dressed and flitting around your room whilst yuuji tries to work himself up into the apology you deserve. but he can see down your bra, and down the curve of your waist and your thighs peek out the bottom of your mini skirt. you’re not even listening to how sorry he is for cumming down your throat after fucking it raw. for leaving welts across your tummy and marks on your neck. for using you to get over himself.
so big, muscular athletic yuuji says fuck it. pinning you against the wall, prying your lips open with his tongue when you gasp.
“what does it take to get you listen, hm? do i need to fuck you again to get it through your head?”
