the difference between katsuki & izuku's breeding kinks 18+, MDNI
bakugo has a breeding kink in the sense that he loves the feeling of knowing youāre full of his cum. that he is who made you get pregnant, and now youāre bringing in a little piece of him and you into this world because of the act. itās all about the legacy, and intimacy of knowing that youāre both now a team, that by you being pregnant thereās some cosmic entanglement between you two.
izuku however has a breeding kink because he thinks thereās nothing more beautiful to him than the sight of you pregnant. that youāre willing to bring a life into this world because you love and trusted him so much. heās looking forward to all the domestic stuff ā massaging your body, looking after your morning sickness, and indulging in whatever outlandish craving you have.
į°.į choso begging you to squeeze him with your thighs while eating you out āøāø 18+ mdni
"ahācho, pleaseā"
the words broke apart in your throat, dissolving into a ragged, breathless moan that echoed softly in the quiet bedroom. you gripped the damp bedsheets on either side of your head, your knuckles turning white as his tongue traced a slow, agonizingly deep stroke right over your clit.
he was relentless. he had been down there for what felt like hours, his heavy, rhythmic hums vibrating right through your skin every time you cried out his name.
"f-fuckāfeels so good," you gasped, your hips lifting off the mattress instinctively, chasing the friction of his mouth. "right thereāplease..."
choso didn't speak. he only let out a low, dark growl of approval against your wet cunt, his large hands sliding up the insides of your thighs to hold you open wider. the deliberate, heavy rhythm of his mouth was blurring your vision, driving you past your absolute limit.
every lick was perfectly calculated, heavy and soaked with intention, until a particularly sharp, blinding wave of pleasure rippled straight through your spine.
your body reacted before your mind could register it. seeking an anchor against the overwhelming sensation, your thighs clamped shut instinctively, trapping his head securely between them.
choso let out a muffled, surprised sound against your folds, the sudden restriction cutting off his breath.
panicking, you immediately opened your legs back up, your breath hitching as your face burned with embarrassment. "oh my god, baby, i'm so sorry, i didn't mean toāi wasn't thinkingā"
"don't," he cut you off, his voice raspy, deeper, and rougher than you had ever heard it. he looked up, his dark eyes dilated so wide they looked almost entirely black, a faint, dark flush creeping up his neck and dusting his cheekbones.
he gripped the insides of your knees, his fingers digging into your skin with a possessiveness that made your blood run hot. "shitādo it again."
"w-what? but iā"
"please," he begged, the word slipping out with a desperate, breathless edge that made your stomach flip. his chest was heaving. "squeeze me again. oh fuckājust like that, baby. lock your legs."
the raw hunger in his expression made it impossible to refuse. slowly, hesitantly, you brought your thighs back together, locking him in place once more, applying a firm, steady pressure against his neck.
a low, ragged groan escaped him, vibrating directly against your sensitive bud. he buried his face back into you, his tongue working with a newfound, frantic intensity that completely derailed your thought process. "harder," he mumbled against your pussy, his hands sliding up to your hips, fingers bruisingly tight as he anchored you. "squeeze harder, baby."
you complied, tightening your hold, completely overwhelmed by the blinding intensity of it. you were caught so deeply in the throes of your own approaching climax that the world narrowed down to just the pressure of your legs and the wicked, relentless motion of his mouth.
because of the sensory overload, you didn't notice the subtle, rhythmic motion beneath you at first. you didn't realize that with every tight squeeze of your thighs restricting his airflow, choso was heavily, desperately humping his clothed length straight into the mattress. he was completely losing himself in the friction, his hips rolling in a tight, frantic pattern against the sheets, riding the intoxicating sensation of being choked by you.
your climax hit like a freight train, your walls pulsing violently around his tongue as a loud cry left your lips. you squeezed him tight, your thighs locking like a vice as you rode the wave.
right as you peaked, choso let out a choked, broken sound. his whole body went rigid beneath you. his hips gave one last, hard, desperate shove into the mattress, his fingers digging so deeply into your hips it was almost painful. he trembled violently, his breath catching in a long, shuddering gasp as he buried his face entirely in your thigh, hiding himself away as he spent.
as the sparks in your vision began to fade and your breathing slowed, you gradually loosened the grip of your legs. choso slumped forward, resting his forehead against your stomach, his chest rising and falling in rapid, shallow pants.
it was only then, as the quiet returned to the room, that you noticed the heavy, uneven thumping of his heart against your leg, and the distinct, damp heat pressing through the fabric of his trousers right where he had been pinning himself to the bed.
you blinked down at him, your hand coming up to rest in his dark hair. "cho...?"
he didn't move for a long moment, completely spent, his shoulders still twitching slightly. when he finally looked up, his face was completely flushed, eyes heavy and hooded with a profound, dazed satisfaction. he swallowed hard, a sheepish but utterly dark look in his eyes as he realized you had figured it out. he hadn't even touched himself; he had finished purely from the friction of the bed and the suffocating pressure of your thighs.
"told you," he murmured, his voice a gravelly whisper as he leaned up to kiss your jaw, completely unbothered by his own ruined state. "i liked it."
š¬š”šØš®šš šš¢š³šš°š love, love, loves to put his filthy little slut in a nasty headlock when's he's stuffin' her tight, warm holes from the meanest angles possible. he always cums the hardest when his beefy arms have your head locked the fuck in place.
his strong forearms snug underneath the meat of your thighs, exposing the slick petals of your folds and spreading your hole all the wider because he can. shouta adores full nelson - his large, rough hands are clamped down around your neck, the position forcing you to stare at where your bodies are joined.
his grueling thrusts would not be complete without the absolute monster he was packing underneath his deceptive pants. "sho, it's too... too much." the words catch in your throat, replaced with incoherent babbles that intensify each time his balls slap up against your ass.
"can't hear you, angel. you're sayin' it's too much but my balls are fucking soaked. that sound we're making? is cause of your slutty pussy, babygirl." there's no room to argue, not when you're folded in half like a damn lawnchair and your boyfriend won't give you a reprieve.
catch a hint of attitude with him and he'll abandon grading papers in favor of fixing that mouth of yours. there's nowhere to run - not when he's prying his fingers past your lips and digging into the wet flesh of your inner cheeks. "that's it, choke just like a good girl. suck on them a little for me."
he really let you have it once - got himself so pussy drunk that even he forgot how many creampies had leaked onto the sheets. he managed to hold up most of your body weight, your neck stabilized by the crook of his elbow. "don't want you to fuckin' breathe. feels so much better to cum when you're this dizzy."
what gets him off the quickest is when your small hands weakly grab at his arm. your inferior arm strength is zero match for a man, a pro hero at that, whose cock becomes even harder seeing you struggle.
shouta will wipe the sweat off of his brow with the same arm that's been drooled over for the past hour. "sh, angel. i've got you. no more roughing you up, think this cute pussy's had enough for tonight."
he doesn't mean to choke you almost like he would a villain, albeit without genuine lethal force. he can't help how violently his cock twitches when your desperate wails and pathetic whimpers reach his ears. calling him "too big," and "too much" all at once before he's even really started fucking you.
your thighs are shaking on either side of his head, hips jerking desperately against his mouth as you ride his face. his hands are sliding up and down your sides and all over your front to tweak and pull your nipples. his red hair is flared out on the bed as he looks up at you with hearts in his eyes as he sucks your clit into his mouth.
āngh fuck kiri!ā you circle your hips.
he groans and licks down to your pussy and shoves his tongue in. your toes curl and you squeal, shaking your hips on his tongue, rubbing your clit right against his nose.
he slurps at you like youāre water and heās dehydrated, shaking his head, hands sliding down and spanking you softly to spur you into riding him harder, faster. when you cum he holds your hips down and fucks his tongue into you, sucking out all of your juices you have to offer.
ākiri! kiri i- hah! lemme-ā
āwhat do you want pretty girl?ā he mumbles into your heat.
āwanna ride you.ā you try to lift up.
āyou are.ā he leans up and licks a stripe up your center.
āno! i wanna ride you!ā you reach down and yank his hair.
he chuckles, letting you up and youāre quick to shove his shorts down and grind yourself agaisnt his cock. he groans when you eagerly line him up, fingers digging into your hips as you start to sink down. you toss your head back, moan tearing from your lips as he stretches you open.
āeasy baby.ā he slows your movements. ānot too fast.ā
āplease. kiri please.ā you shimmy down another inch.
he lets you slide down another inch, grinning at the breathy whines spilling from your mouth. he holds your hips and guides you down, cooing at you as you take him fully. you take a minute to adjust before you start wildly humping against him, grabbing onto his hands that are gripping your waist.
āshit baby, slow down.ā he pants, hips canting up to meet yours.
your pleasure is already tight in your lower belly, the burn in your thighs means nothing from the way kirishima rolls his eyes back with each sticky smack. he doesnāt care that heās close he know when you burst around him heāll fill you a second later shamelessly.
āfuck baby. take what you need.ā he moans, blinking up at you with heavy eyes.
your pussy hugs him, coaxes more pre to slobber against your velvet walls. wet squelchās and broken moans bounce off the bedroom walls as you lean forward, bracing your hands on his chest and digging your nails in as you cum around him. he whines, cock twitching before he coats your walls with his cum.
āwanna- agh! wanna go again.ā you collapse on his chest.
he rolls the two of you over and slowly starts to rock his hips into yours again.
Katsuki Bakugo with an inexperienced girlfriend
MDNI, suggestive
Katsuki with an inexperienced girlfriend. He think sheās the sweetest thing ever and he didnāt even think twice on respecting her boundaries and understanding her situation. In fact, he wants to wait a while, maybe until you guys get to your first of dating before he really tries something but sometimes youāre just so unknowingly needy.
Youāve been feeling weird since the afternoon. you donāt know how it started, you were simply watching Katsuki spar with Eijirou and this weird feeling down by your stomach started to develop. You tried to drink some medicine, use a hot compress, even tried distracting yourself with your own work but the feeling only got worse.
Eventually you couldnāt handle it anymore.
It was a little past dinner when you called him.
The phone rings twice before he picks up.
āHey doll.ā Katsuki greets. Hearing his voice has the feeling in your stomach intensify and you couldnāt help but pinch your eyebrows together.
āSuki? Need your help.ā You mumbled, turning over in bed.
You hear some shuffling on the other side of the call before he replies, āWhatās wrong?ā
āā¦ My tummy feels weird.ā
āWhat kinda weird baby?ā
You try to explain the weird feeling as best as you can. Like a heat in your tummy that just wonāt go away. Katsuki hums over the line as he listens patiently. Taking in every word.
āMmmā¦ Can you check something fāme doll?ā
You nod your head before you realize your boyfriend canāt see you, āYeah, I can.ā
āCheck if your panties are wet.ā Katsuki mumbled.
āI didnāt pee myself āSuki.ā You grumbled, cheeks flushing red from the sheer embarrassment of not just the situation but at what Katsuki was implying.
āI know baby, but just check fāme me alright? Bring your hand down and press against your panties and tell me if itās wet.ā
You do as he says and to your surprise, your panties are indeed wet. Overwhelmingly so that when you bring your hand back up thereās a bit of moisture on your fingertips.
āSāwet.ā You mumbled into the phone shyly.
Katsuki hums and you can imagine him nodding his head in the way he does whenever heās deep in thought.
āWanā me to come over ān fix it for ya?ā Katsuki asked, voice low, āI can make that weird feeling go away baby.ā
your boyfriend always gets flustered when you kiss his neck
megumi is incredibly touch deprived, especially so around his neck and throat.
obviously, you love using that fact to your advantage.
and as much as he protests that he hates it, he and you both know that he loves it.
the other night, you two were laying in his bed as he went on a nerdy rant about pokemon. his arm was loosely wrapped around your waist, your head resting against his chest.
despite how much you love hearing him talk about subjects he was passionate about, you were growing a little bored of his chatter and decided to tease him a little.
you tilted your head up, pressing soft, slow kisses to the side of his neck, and the sensitive spots around his ear.
āso itās- ah.. i mean, th-the water types and fire types- uh..ā megumi stammers quietly, entire train of thought completely wrecked.
he feels you grin against his skin, amused with yourself. āquit it.ā he mumbles.
you hum, innocently glancing up at him. āmm, sorry. what were you saying?ā you ask, smiling sweetly.
āyou donāt care.ā he grumbles, not looking at you.
ādonāt say that.ā you lower your head to his neck again, gently mouthing at his soft skin.
he releases a soft, shaky breath, voice low and controlled. āā¦ if you wanted me to pay attention to you, you coulda just said.ā
you donāt reply, continuing to gently suck at his neck, trailing down to his collarbone. he shivers, bringing a hand to the back of your head, keeping you there.
āfeels good.ā he murmurs, voice a low vibration in your ear.
you just smile, satisfied in knowing that your boyfriend would melt for you at such an easy touch.
synopsis . Your sweetheart of a boyfriend becomes a different person during sex. content . afab!reader, established relationship, slight body worship, praise, dirty talk, pet names, creampie, etc.
author's note: our (yes our) man has finally been animated, ngh. this is a revised repost from kamitv, if it looks familiar thatās why. banner art from "hachisuka's family kotoriboko"
Higurumaās the kinda guy that has no idea how the hell he pulled you so every time your eyes linger on him a little bit too long, he gets nervous as fuck. Sweat will trickle down the back of his neck and he gulps loudly enough for you to hear it, to which you start smiling at him.
Those wide-set eyes of his carefully drag back over to you and he notices the way youāre staring at his nose. You always gush about how much you love that part of his face and ever since then he canāt control the twitch beneath his slacks as he replays exactly why you love his nose so much in his head.
And hey, itās no help that youāre sitting right on top of him right now. Your manicured nails that he paid for grazing all over his skin, touching his neck, his jawline, and soon his face too. Then you lean in and kiss the bridge of his nose so softly that it makes him grunt.
āYouāre so perfect Hiromi,ā Youād hush out to him in that tone you know drives him craze.
Higuruma is left slouching further back into the couch and spreading his legs further apart with a not-so-subtle roll of his hips upwards against you. āPlease. Thatās all you, sweetheart.ā He tries to play it off as if heās not complete putty in your hands but lord knows when you start trailing your touch down his breath his hitching in his throat.
You smileāa sight he can never get enough of, truly. āTake the compliment, Hiro. Iām beinā seriousā¦ā Your fingers are wrapping around his tie now and his eyelids are all low on you.
Still trying to play it off, this time with a chuckle, he hums. āā¦Thank you, love.ā Heās such a gentleman too, all easygoing and relaxed for you.
Which says a lot considering the kind of man he becomes while heās fucking you.
Higuruma isnāt exactly mean, nor is he much of a talker during sex butā¦ His cock damn sure says a lot as he later fucks up into you just to hear those sweet praises you give him.
You just love complimenting your man and he loves being complimentedāhonestly the perfect match for each other.
Every moan of his name that leaves your lips only drive him deeper and deeper inside you. Heās so stupidly in love with you and most times it shows through sex instead of words. Despite how heāll have you bouncing up and down on his left curved cock for hours, this is the most passion youāll get from the overworked man.
And when he does open his mouth to speak, your cunt is fluttering around his thick head. Whispering a crisply husk utterance of, āFuck. Ride me, love. Ride me juuusā like that. Y-Yeahhh. Shit. Love these fuckinā hips, donāt stop movinā āem.ā
Your moaning grows louder by the second and heās guiding you up and down his dick, eyes rolling to the back of his head with every perfect slam of your ass down onto him. His groans are so deep that they practically bounce off of the walls of your living room, leading you to clamp around him tighter than before.
Higuruma especially loves your nails for some reason. He canāt get enough of how they feel ghosting his skin every time you move your arms or whenever you move to grab ahold of his face and lean down to kiss him. Thatās why heās always paying for them (even though he secretly loves spoiling you too).
Then, when you get a bit more confident and slip your hands down to hold onto his arms, he groans again. His grip on your hips would tighten and thereās just one wet plop after another while you ride him in earnest.
Which is what prompts filthy words to pour out of his mouth like, āUhuh, fuck yourself on my cock, pretty girl. Cāmon, you can do it. Make yourself feel good. Use me baby, use me.ā
Again, heās not much of a talker but sometimes you cause the words to just spill from his lips. While heās spewing filth out to you, youāre getting closer and closer to a messy release. Itās right as youāre about to cum that he demands you look him in the eyes (no matter the position) so that he can watch them gloss over as you cum all around his girthy cock.
You look so fucking gorgeous when you come undone tooāitās a sight Higuruma simply canāt get enough of. Half the time, he ends up fucking his cum up into you just because of that look alone. You wouldnāt even be able to move or run from his deep thrusts, feeling every inch of his carry against your walls until his cum is fucked all the way in to the point that itās dribbling out of you.
Itās messy but, he loves it. He loves you. And even after sex, he still doesnāt understand how the hell heās managed to bag a beautiful woman such as yourselfā¦
š®atoru begging for a little cockwarming, claiming itās the only thing that'll help him drift off to sleepā¦
1.2k words, quick read šš”. byf!toru ( +18 )
Satoru tossed and turned for the fifteenth time in ten minutes. The mattress groaned under him, and honestly, so did you.
"If you don't anchor your ass down in the next two seconds, Iām sleeping on the couch," you muttered into your pillow, your voice thick with sleep and irritated as hell. Your acrylics clicked against your phone screen as you checked the time. 3:42 AM. Fantastic.
Satoru flopped onto his back, sighing like heād just run a marathon instead of just lying in a climate-controlled room. He rolled over, propping his chin on your shoulder, his hair poking you right in the cheek.
"I can't sleep, babe. Itās a medical emergency at this point," he whined, his voice doing that annoying, high-pitched drag he used whenever he wanted something. "My brain is literally frying. You gotta help me out."
"Go count sheep or something, Satoru. Or better yet, go do some push-ups in the living room till you pass out." You shoved his face away, but he just slid right back, wrapping a heavy arm around your waist and pulling you against him.
"Sheep are boring. Plus, I have a way better solution," he said, a slow, cocky grin spreading across his face even in the dark. He gave your hip a suggestive nudge, flipping effortlessly onto his back and dragging you right along with him until you were sprawled over his chest. "Come on. Just a quick cockwarm. Just climb up and park it so I can drift off. You don't even have to do any work. Just lay on me and look pretty."
You let out a long, exhausted groan, staring down at his stupidly handsome face. "Are you for real right now? It is almost four in the morning and youāre tryna use me like a heated blanket?"
"I mean, you are warm," he teased, his hands sliding down to grip your hips, guiding you up his torso. "And you love me. And Iāll literally buy you those shoes you were barking at on Instagram earlier. The ugly ones with the spikes."
"They are not ugly, they're archive fashion, you uncultured brain," you snapped, though your defense lacked any real venom because, honestly, the shoes were expensive. You sighed, rolling your eyes. "Fine. Whatever. But if you start doing too much and wake me up completely, Iām biting you."
"Deal. Youāre the best, seriously, a literal angel," Satoru cheered, already shifting beneath you and tugging his sweatpants down with zero shame.
He didn't waste any time. His hands stayed firmly on your hips, helping you lift yourself just enough to line things up before his fingers hooked into the fabric of your panties, pushing the lace firmly to the side so he could slide smoothly inside you. The sudden fullness made you catch your breath for a second, your hands coming down to rest on his broad chest for balance. You slumped forward, letting your forehead rest right against his shoulder.
"Uuugh, fuck," Satoru muttered, his arms immediately wrapping around your back, locking you against him. He let out a long, shaky breath, all that restless energy heād been carrying for the last hour suddenly evaporating the second you completely enclosed him. He didn't move, didn't try to lift his hips, he just stayed perfectly still, letting out a deep, contented sigh that vibrated right through your chest. "See? Perfect. I'm already curing my insomnia."
"Mmm.. wrap it up," you mumbled, adjusting your legs so you were comfortably straddling his thighs, completely deadweight on top of him. Your nails lightly scratched at the skin of his chest, mostly just out of habit to keep him settled. "If you start twitching or doing that weird leg-shake thing you do when you dream, Iām getting off."
"I don't twitch," he mumbled, his voice already dropping an octave, thick with growing drowsiness. He tightened his hold around your waist, burying his face in your hair, his breathing already starting to slow down. One of his hands moved in a lazy, comforting circle on your lower back. "You're soft."
"I know that," you replied, closing your eyes and finally feeling the pull of sleep yourself now that he was anchored and quiet. "Don't forget the shoes."
"Mmm. Spiky shoes. Got it," he slurred.
Within five minutes, his breathing completely evened out, turning into heavy, rhythmic thuds beneath you. He was completely dead to the world, holding you secure against him while he snored softly into your neck. You gave a small, half-annoyed huff, melting completely into his chest, and finally fell asleep with his cock buried inside you.
į” kaliās notes āø» Iāve been thinking about writing about cockwarming for a while nowā¦ Iām just experimenting tbh guys, but yeah hope yāall enjoyed it ?? mwahh !
Gojo Satoru didnāt believe in just one round during your birthday, no, he was a firm believer of making you have orgasms all day, sometimes not in the most appropriate places.
The day starts with his head in between your thighs, morning sun filtering through the curtains and casting a yellow glow over your boyfriendās white hair. His long, slender fingers grip the skin of your thighs roughly as he dives into your sweet pussy, head rolling back as you moan and whimper above him.
The second time, itās in the backseat of his car. You want to visit a garden centre on your birthday? Sure, as long as he can bounce you on his cock in a quiet area of the car park afterwards. Youāre far too cock drunk to notice or even care if the car is rocking violently each time he slams you down onto his deliciously thick length.
The third time, two of his fingers are splitting you open in your friendās bathroom. You shouldāve known that Gojo would try this when you said your friends had invited you round for the afternoon with an open invitation for your boyfriend too.
āSatoru,ā you begin breathlessly, legs involuntarily spreading wider. āSomeone could hear.ā
He presses open mouthed kisses along your neck, nipping at your skin playfully. āThen let them. Let them see how well youāre being treated on your special day.ā
You canāt contain your moan as his fingers plunge deeper, reaching that sweet spot that made your legs shake. āYouāve already-mm-treated me twice.ā
āNot enough for me, baby. I wonāt let you sleep until Iāve given you at least six orgasms today.ā
You barely register his words as your eyes roll back, familiar feeling building in your lower stomach as you thrust helplessly against his palm.
The fourth time happens on the couch, right after getting home and unable to even get a word out before Gojo is pushing you down, fingers already straying to your underwear. Somehow, you end up face down ass up, drooling over one of your favourite cushions as Satoru pounds into you again and again, causing the nastiest of moans to spill from your mouth.
The fifth and sixth orgasm happens during the same event, in a fancy restaurant. Apparently, Gojo had no awareness of his surroundings even in one of the most prestigious places possible. He apparently also thinks itās funny to rub the sole of his shoe over your clothed pussy during dinner until you finish, hands gripping your cutlery in a desperate attempt to look composed. And then to top it all off, he fucks you again in his car, the passenger seat now, one hand firmly wrapped around your neck so you donāt accidentally turn your head and notice how everyone can see the two of you this time.
ā” summary: bomb pops? more like bombĀ head. out of sheer curiosity, you ask satoru for a little tutorial. fortunately, you're into hands-on learning!
The best thing about having a wealthy friend isn't the endless flights to foreign countries or yacht trips the moment someone mentions "weekend." No, it's easy access to the expansive pool that sits in their backyard.
A private oasis that doesn't come with screaming children doing cannonballs, splashing constantly in your face, or worse, a subscription service.
On hot days like these, when the heat clinging to your skin, you can feel the irritation bubbling at the surface at any minor inconvenience.
The chill of a pool sends all your worries away. The water is always the perfect temperature, the expensive system keeping it neither too cold nor too warm.
Your apartment pool could never.
Thankfully, Satoru was willing to lounge around on floaties with you, his presence comforting despite his tendency to be annoying about fifty percent of the time. The other fifty percent makes it worth it, and today, that fifty percent is in full effect.
The sun beams down towards you, warming your backside as you lie flat on the clear inflatable that Satoru insists is "the superior floatie" because it lets you see the water beneath you.
Not that there's much to see besides the occasional leaf or the faint shimmer of the pool's blue iridescent tiles, but he seems to take great pride in his floatie collection.
Occasionally, Satoru will push your floatie towards the waterfalls that cascade into the pool, claiming he's just "helping you cool off" before splashing your hair to get it wet.
He tricked you once, claiming he was improving the angle so you could tan better, his voice full of faux sincerityāwhich you naively believedā only for cold, hard water to be dumped on your face from the waterfall.
You should have seen it coming from a mile away. His laugh echoed across the pool, and you craved revenge, but the free pool was too good to give up, so you let it slide. For now.
Anything for the free pool.
You could hear the water splashing as Satoru swam, his movements creating gentle ripples that disturbed your peaceful float.
Your floatie shifted, your body being pulled away from your perfect tanning spot, catching the optimal amount of rays without frying you to a crisp.
"Satoru, swear to god, if I feel a single drop of water, you're dead," you warned, lifting your head and pulling the sunglasses over your eyes so you weren't blinded by the sun.
"You're so scary," he laughed, elbows resting on the edge of your inflatable, his chin propped up on his arms. "You want a bomb pop?" he asked lightly. His tongue was already dyed purple, a telltale sign he seemed to have indulged himself in one already while you were busy sunbathing.
You were craving something sweet, your mouth watering at the thought of that icy, sugary goodness, so this was perfect timing.
His hair was tousled and wet with water, the white strands darkened to a soft silver where they were soaked through, and his skin was even a little tanned from the sun, a rare sight that made him look like a surfer from California.
The contrast was pretty on his white hair and cerulean eyes. You hummed, nodding your head, "Pull me back."
Obliging, Satoru pulled you with him to the pool's edge, his hands gripping the sides of your floatie with surprising care. Your floatie had traveled quite the distance across his expansive pool, and as you moved, you took in the sheer scale of his pool deck.
His home was beautiful; your own family's wealth wasn't anything to laugh at, but Gojo's was on a different planet entirely. He even had his own golf course named after him back home, a fact he brought up too casually.
You would jokingly call his family the Crazy Rich Gojo's when you found out how wealthy he was.
Your pool at home was nice, sure, but Satoru's was pretty damn closeāif not better. The carefully curated landscaping that surrounded it, the infinity edge that made it look like the water went on forever. It was picturesque, residing in someone's dream home pinterest board.
Rolling over, you let the coolness of the floaty cool the warm skin on your back, the plastic slightly sticky from the heat but still refreshing. It felt nice, relaxing you further onto the floatie as you surrendered to the heat.
You kept your hand pressed to the ledge so you wouldn't float away again, your fingers gripping the edge.
You watched as Satoru climbed out of the pool, his body dripping wet from the chlorinated water, droplets cascading down his back in rivulets that caught the light. Even though you were in the deeper end, he didn't need to take the ladder; the pros of being tall meant he could just hoist himself up like it was nothing, muscles flexing with the effort.
It took a minute for him to come back with your sweet relief, his footsteps padding against the stone tiles as he made his way to the outdoor fridge. He carefully unwrapped the red, white, and blue bomb pop, holding two others in his hand.
Crouching down in front of you, his strong calves bending towards you, he waved the cold treat over your lips, the cool air touching your lips ever so slightly. You reached out to snatch it away, your fingers grazing the white wrapper, but he happened to be faster, pulling it back with a grin.
Holding the popsicle in the air, his arms reached higher than where you could grab it comfortably, his height advantage making this game incredibly unfair. He waved it back and forth, and you felt that familiar irritation prickle at your skin once again.
"Satoru, stop," you groaned, sitting up from the floatie to take it out of his hand, the movement causing water to slosh around you. You were planning on playing nice with him today, being the bigger person and all that, but he always found a way to scratch your nerves, pulling them taut until you snapped. Nevertheless, you enjoyed his company.
Knowing Satoru since your freshman year, through friends of friends who had somehow dragged both of you to the same party, you happened to become friends with Satoru; it felt practically inevitable.
When you first met him, you thought he was an egotistical prick. But the more you got to know him, the more you realized he wasn't that bad. He was there for you during breakups, letting you cry on his shoulders while he fed you ice cream and told you that your ex was "a shit loser anyway."
He was there for rough hangovers, making you drink water and bone broth even when you insisted you would die if you moved. He was there for late-night drives, windows down, music blasting, the two of you screaming lyrics at the top of your lungs like you were the only people on the quiet streets. The plentiful noise complaints proved you definitely weren't.
And you were there for him, even when he drunkenly threw up on your vintage Kelly, a bag you had gotten for your sixteenth birthdayāShe will be missed. He ended up buying you two more as an apology, one in the original color and one in a shade that matched your eyes, but still, Satoru was a great friend.
Even if the lines are blurred in the friend portion.
"Satoru, stop!" he mocked in a high-pitched voice, his impression of you absolutely terrible. You definitely didn't sound like that, and you snatched the already melting popsicle from his hands before he could pull it away again.
Your tongue hurriedly reached out to lick the melted juices, the sweet flavor exploding on your taste buds as you started from the base to the top, not wanting to waste a single drop. The UV was making it melt faster, so you took a bite out of the tip, crunching through the icy layers. Might as well eat it before the sun does first, you thought, chewing happily.
You hadn't noticed Satoru's gaze as he watched, his eyes fixed on your mouth, wincing slightly as you bit the bomb pop with more force than necessary.
"Don't look at me like that, you're double-fisting bomb pops over there," you rolled your eyes, lifting your glasses to the top of your head to get a better look at his face. His face was crunched up with a look of amusement.
"You're the freaky one," he mused, licking both of the popsicles at the same time, his tongue darting out to catch the melting drips with practiced ease.
You were tempted to bring up the time you found him and Suguru passed out on his bed with two other girls, a scene that had been burned into your memory forever, but you decided to let it slide. But you're the freaky one, right..
"Whatever," you said instead of bringing up his freak escapades, taking another bite of your bomb pop. You wouldn't let Satoru live that one down, but you'll live past his greed, saving that ammunition for a later date when you really need to win an argument.
"I feel bad for any of your victims," he said, his eyebrows furrowed in mock sadness, kissing up to the sky like he was praying for the souls of your hypothetical head receivers.
He sat down on the ledge, his legs dangling into the water, the ripples spreading outward from his movements.
"Luckily, there are none," you said, the words coming out louder than you intended.
He paused dramatically, his entire body freezing as he stared at your face to see if you were serious. Realizing you weren't lying, a smirk twitched at his lips, one that usually preceded with more irritating and unnecessary comments.
Much to the dismay of your many hookups, you had never given head before. Too nervous to mess up and bite someone's appendage off, you never tried. It was a confession you rarely made, one that usually got you a mix of shock and pity, but with Satoru, it felt different.
"Not even-" he started until you shook your head firmly, cutting him off. He thought for a second, his expression contemplative, before asking, "You want to practice?"
It's not like you haven't tried to practice before, using fruit and various objects in an attempt to gain some semblance of skill, but a banana is much different than a real dick. The texture, the shape, the way it movesāor lack thereof. It's just not the same.
You stared at him momentarily, thinking about his offer, your brain running through all the possible outcomes. It's not like neither of you had crossed lines before; you're the one who taught him how to make out with someone after he claimed he didn't know how.
A claim you still weren't sure was true or just an elaborate excuse to get you to kiss him.
Once, led to twice, and whenever either of you was feeling lonely enough, your lips would find his. It was convenient, and a line you had long since stopped pretending existed.
This wasn't much different, right?
"You'd really show me?" you questioned hesitantly. If you wanted to practice on a real person, you might as well do it with Satoru. He nodded, leaning closer to the edge, looking down towards you. His gaze was almost eager, excited maybe.
"Of course, I mean, what are friends for, right?" he tilted his head slightly, the sun catching the water droplets in his hair. He looked pretty, glittery even. "The same way you were eating that, just less biting, more sucking, and inside action." You nodded, taking in what he said patiently.
Lifting from your floatie, you climbed onto the sun-warm pool deck. Swallowing the rest of the bomb pop, you sat next to Satoru, ready on the ledge, your eyes hinting at the lounge chairs. He stared at you for a moment. "Oh- I see, yeah, over there m-might be better," he stuttered, getting up to go to the chairs.
He sat down on the much cooler chairs, shaded by the umbrellas from the sun. "Do I sit here?" You knelt on the pool deck's smooth concrete, your body kneeling between his spread legs.
He looked down at you, confused and partially nervous. "Don't tell me you're getting nervous about me, Satoru," you teased, laying your head on his knee.
"N-nervous? No, I was justā¦ surprised," he muttered, clearing his throat, "Didn't think you meant practice on me." he paused for a moment, his empty hand carding through his hair.
"Not that I am opposed, practice makes perfect, you know?" he smiled, licking the remainder of his bomb pop.
"You expected me to practice on a bomb pop?" you chuckled. "I need to practice on something real," you sighed. By the hardness growing in Satoru's swim shorts, he definitely didn't seem opposed.
"Why? Tried before?" he half-joked, but you only glared at him; he didn't need to hear how you embarrassingly choked on a banana after it broke in your throat. "Well, first, you need to set the tone; it's better if the little guy is awake first," he instructed, handing you a pillow.
"Doesn't seem like you need any help with that," you murmured, getting more comfortable on the pillow.
"What can I say, I'm a healthy guy," he commented nonchalantly, the pink tinging his ears telling a different story. "You want to take it out," you followed, your hands nervously pulling at his trunks.
His breath hitched the second your fingers brushed against the waistband of his swim trunks, the fabric damp from the pool water he'd been lounging in moments before.
The bomb pop had long since melted down his hand, sticky sweetness dripping onto his knuckles, but he made no move to clean it off. His focus was entirely on you.
"There you go," he murmured, voice dropping as he lifted his hips just enough for you to tug the trunks down his thighs. His cock sprang free, already half-hard and flushed pink at the tip, curving slightly to the left. A bead of pre-cum glistened at the slit, catching the sunlight like a tiny pearl.
"Very healthy guy," you joked, trying to distract yourself from being too nervous. You swallowed, staring at it with wide eyes. It was big. Thick and long, veined and heavy, resting against his lower stomach with an almost casual weight.
Not really what would be your first as a beginner. You wouldn't boost his ego any further, or he might explode.
Your hand hovered over it, fingers trembling slightly, and Satoru's lips curled into that familiar smirk. "Don't just admire it, babe," he teased, reaching down to wrap his sticky fingers around yours, guiding your palm to wrap around his shaft. The heat of him seared against your skin, velvety smooth over rigid hardness. "You gotta touch it. Get familiar with it. Not gonna bite."
"Says you," you mumbled, but your fingers tightened experimentally, and his breath caught in his throat, a tiny, almost imperceptible hitch that made your confidence bloom.
"Start slow," he instructed, his voice a little rougher now, the playful edge sharpening. "Just... wrap your hand around it. Feel the weight. Get it, wet, get a rhythm going. Don't just-" You nodded, spitting onto the tip. You stroked him, once, clumsily, your grip too tight and your angle wrong. He winced, but the sound that escaped him wasn't entirely pained.
"Okay, okay," he laughed breathlessly, his head falling back against the lounge chair. "That's-that's a start. But loosen up. It's not a weapon, alright? Gentle. Like you're holding a baby bird."
"I've held birds; this does not feel like a bird," you shot back, but you adjusted, lightening your grip, letting your fingers slide down to his base and then back up. His hips twitched involuntarily, and you grinned at the reaction.
"There you go," he breathed, his hand coming up to card through his wet white hair, pushing it back from his forehead, his gaze making you even hotter. "Now, use your mouth. Just the tip, first. Get used to it."
You leaned forward, pressing a tentative kiss to the head of his cock. He tasted salty, like chlorine and sweat, and you found yourself licking your lips before you even realized what you were doing.
"Don't overthink it," he murmured, his hand dropping to rest gently on the back of your head, not pushing, just there. "Just take it slow. Let it- ah-"
You parted your lips and took him in, just the head at first, your tongue swirling around the sensitive ridge. His hips buckled up involuntarily, and you gagged, pulling off with a wet pop.
"Sorry, sorry," he panted, his cheeks flushed a pretty pink beneath the shade. "Fuck, you just-your mouth is really cold, okay? Give a guy some warning."
"Maybe you should give me some warning," you snorted.
"Fair enough," he conceded, "How about this, you get back down there, and I'll return the favor. Make it fair."
"Fair?" you echoed, your hand still wrapped around him, feeling the steady pulse of his heartbeat through the velvety skin. "You think you can keep quiet while I'm down here?"
Satoru's laugh was low, almost a purr, as he settled back into the lounge chair. His white lashes fluttered half-closed, those piercing blue eyes watching you through the slits. "I've kept quiet through worse."
Your thumb traced the ridge of his tip, spreading the glistening bead of pre-cum across the sensitive skin. His stomach muscles flinched, and you felt a surge of power at the small reaction. "Yeah, sure."
"Attagirl," he breathed, one large hand coming to rest on the back of your head again. His fingers resting gently in your hair. "Now, take a breath. Relax your jaw. You're thinking too much."
"How do you-"
"You're clenching your teeth," he interrupted, "I can feel it." You exhaled slowly, forcing your shoulders to drop, and leaned forward again. This time, when you took him into your mouth, you focused on the weight of him on your tongue. Your lips stretched around the head, and you hollowed your cheeks experimentally.
"Fuck," Satoru hissed, his fingers tightening in your hair. "Yeah, that's-that's good. Just like that. Don't try to take it all at once. Work your tongue."
You obeyed, swirling your tongue around the sensitive underside of his tip, tracing the little vein that ran along his shaft. His hips twitched again, but he held himself still, letting you explore at your own pace. His hand stayed heavy on your head, occasionally stroking your hair in a way that felt almost encouraging.
"Breathe through your nose," he instructed, his voice growing rougher. "And, mmngh- use your hand on what you can't fit in your mouth. Make it part of the same rhythm."
You pulled off with a wet sound, a string of saliva connecting your bottom lip to his flushed tip. "You're a lot better than a tiktok video."
Satoru's laugh was breathless, his chest heaving. "What am I not good at? Now get back down here before I get lonely." You rolled your eyes but complied, taking him back into your mouth with renewed determination. You wrapped your hand around the base and pumped in time with your bobbing head.
The angle was awkward, your neck starting to ache, but the way Satoru's breath hitched every time you took him deeper made it worth it.
"Sloppy," he murmured, his thumb stroking the shell of your ear. "Get sloppy. Use more spit. You're not trying to make it pretty, you're trying to make me come." You pulled off just long enough to gather a generous amount of saliva in your mouth, letting it drool down your chin and onto his shaft. The sight of it, the way his cock glistened in the dappled sunlight, made something hot curl in your belly.
You licked a stripe up the underside, from base to tip, and Satoru groaned, deep and guttural. You were starting to understand when your friends would remark that their mouths were watering.
"Fuck, okay, okay," he panted, his composure finally cracking. "You're a fast learner. That'sāyeah, right there-"
You took him back into your mouth, deeper this time, pushing past the resistance in your throat. Your eyes watered, but you forced yourself to relax, just like he'd said. You focused on the sounds he was making: the broken moans, the way his breath stuttered, and the feedback loop of pleasure and power it created.
"That's it, baby," he crooned, his voice dropping into something silkier. "That's my good girl. Taking me so well, you're a natural, shit-" His hips bucked upward, and you gagged, pulling off with a cough. Saliva dripped down your chin, and you wiped at it with the back of your hand, glaring at him through watery eyes.
"Warning?" you croaked.
"Sorry, sorry," he panted, but he wasn't sorry at all. The smug look on his face was a dead giveaway, even as his chest heaved and his flush spread down to his collarbones. "You just got me excited."
"Asshole," you muttered, but you were already leaning back in, licking a slow, teasing stripe across his tip.
Satoru's hand tightened in your hair. "Watch your mouth, princess. Or I'll make you." The challenge in his voice sent a shiver down your spine.
You took him back into your mouth, sinking farther than before, feeling him hit the back of your throat. You held there for a moment, breathing through your nose, before pulling back and repeating the motion.
"That's it," he groaned, and his control was sliding, melting away with each bob of your head. "Just like that. You're doing so good, so good for me-" His grip tightened, guiding your pace faster, and you let him. You wanted this, wanted to push him over the edge, wanted to taste the proof of your progress.
His cock twitched in your mouth, opening your throat to take him deeper. "Fuuck-" he moaned loudly. He motioned for you to pull off, but you kept your head still. His seed sputtered onto your tongue. You held there for a moment as he caught his breath above you.
His cum didn't taste horrible, just foreign, a bit salty. Nevertheless, you swallowed. Wiping the outside of your mouth of spit.
"Did I do well?" You asked slowly, pulling his cock from your mouth.
"You- yeah, you did great," he breathed. Tossing the melted popsicle into the trash, licking his hand clean of the popsicle. "Since you did so well, let's make it fair."
Before you could ask what he meant, he was shifting, grabbing you by the hips and manhandling you with surprising strength, flipping you around until you were positioned over him, your knees on either side of his head, your face hovering above his already hard cock.
"Pretty skilled here too," he announced cheerfully, his voice muffled by the fact that he was already pressing his mouth to the inside of your thigh. "Best way to learn. You get to focus on your technique while I keep you...distracted."
"Distracted?" you squeaked, but the word dissolved into a moan as his tongue licked a broad stripe up your slit, through the thin fabric of your bikini bottoms. He hooked a finger under the material, pulling it aside, and the first real taste of you seemed to make him groan.
"Shit," he breathed against your cunt, his nose nudging your clit. "You taste better than those bomb pops."
"Focus, Satoru," you managed, your voice shaky as you lowered your head back down to his cock. "You're supposed to be teaching me."
"Right, right," he chuckled, the vibration of his laughter against your pussy making you jolt. "Then get to work, pretty girl. And remember-"He licked into you, slow and deliberate, "-tongue's your best friend. Use it."
You moaned, the sound vibrating around his shaft, and he groaned in response, his hips twitching up to meet your mouth.
You tried to remember his instructions: gentle, start slow, don't overthink it. It was hard when his tongue was doing that, curling inside you, tasting every inch of your slick heat.
"You're-" you gasped, pulling off his cock for a breath, "-you're not making this easy."
"Not supposed to be easy," he murmured against your folds, his lips brushing your clit with each word. "Supposed to be fun."
His thumb found your clit, rubbing lazy circles while his tongue dipped back inside you, and you cried out, your hips grinding down against his face without your permission.
He let out a pleased hum, his free hand coming up to grip your ass, squeezing the flesh hard enough to leave marks.
"That's it," he encouraged, his voice a low rumble. "Use those pretty hips. Ride my face." You took him back into your mouth, deeper this time, your head bobbing in a clumsy rhythm.
Your teeth scraped against him, and he hissed sharply. "Teeth, angel," he reminded you, his voice strained. "No teeth. Just lips and tongue."
You sucked hard, and his hips bucked, pushing himself deeper into your throat. You gagged, tears pricking at your eyes, but you didn't pull off. You were determined. "Good," he praised, his voice dripping with approval. "That's my girl. Taking it like a pro."
His tongue speared into you, and you moaned around his cock, the vibration making him shudder beneath you. His grip on your ass tightened, his hips thrusting up into your mouth in shallow, desperate little movements.
"Just like that," he breathed, his words muffled by your pussy. "Fuck, you're so beautiful. Suck it- yeah, just like that." You were drooling, strings of saliva connecting your lips to his shaft, your jaw aching, but you didn't care.
He pulled his mouth away from you for just a moment, his breath hot against your slick folds. "You're doing so well, sweetheart. Gonna make me cum again if you keep that up-" You doubled your efforts, taking him deeper, your hand pumping what your mouth couldn't reach. His hips bucked erratically, his fingers digging into your ass, his whole body tensing beneath you. "Fuck, fuck, fuck-"
He came with a choked cry, hot and thick down your throat, and you swallowed instinctively. He kept twitching in your mouth, his hips still jerking as you milked him through it, not pulling off until he went limp beneath you.
Although he had just come, he didn't let off. His moans vibrated against your cunt, pulling you closer and closer.
You barely had a moment to catch your breath before Satoru's tongue was back on you, lapping at your dripping folds like a man starved. His grip on your ass tightened, spreading you wider, and you felt the cool air against your slick skin before his mouth descended again.
"F-fuck, Satoru-" you gasped, your forehead dropping against his thigh. His cock was starting to grow half-hard beneath you, twitching against your cheek, and you could feel every pulse of his heartbeat through the velvet skin.
His tongue circled your clit, slow and deliberate, and your hips stuttered against his face. He laughed, the sound vibrating through you. "You're so responsive," he breathed, pulling back just enough to speak. "I can feel every little noise you make-" He licked a broad stripe up your slit. "-Don't think I can stop after this."
You cried out, your hips grinding down against his face without permission, and he groaned in approval. His hands gripped your ass harder, pulling you closer, and you could feel the wet sounds of his mouth against you; it was obscene. "'Toru-" you gasped, your hand tightening around his thighs.
His thumb found your clit, rubbing tight circles while his tongue plunged back inside you, and you shattered. Your orgasm hit you like a wave, your body convulsing above him, your mouth falling open in a silent scream.
You could feel him smiling against you, his tongue still working you through it, drawing out every last tremor.
"That's it," he cooed, his voice soft, almost tender. "That's my girl. Let go for me."
Your hips rocked against his face involuntarily, riding out the aftershocks, and he let you take what you needed. When you finally stilled, trembling and breathless, he pressed one last kiss to your clit before gently nudging you off him.
"Okay?" he asked, sitting up to wrap his arms around you. His voice was rough, but his eyes were soft as he looked at you, brushing a strand of hair from your face.
"Yeah," you managed, your voice hoarse. Turning towards him, you positioned your body over his lap. Your hips were still trembling from the aftershocks as you settled over his lap, the wet heat of your cunt sliding along the thick length of him. Satoru's hands found your waist immediately, fingers digging into the soft flesh there like he was grounding himself. His chest was heaving beneath you, that stupidly pretty face.
His grip on your waist tightens the moment you settle over him, fingers pressing bruises into your skin before he's even inside you. "Fuck," he breathes, the word coming out almost reverent. "You're gonna kill me, you know that?"
You don't answer with words, just roll your hips forward, letting the slick heat of your cunt drag along the underside of his cock. The sensation makes him hiss through his teeth, his head falling back against the lounge chair.
"Look at you," he murmurs, one hand leaving your waist to cup your jaw, tilting your face toward him. His thumb traces along your bottom lip, and you part your mouth instinctively, tongue flicking out to taste the salt of his skin. He groans.
"So fuckin' eager. That mouth of yours-" He cuts himself off with a sharp inhale as you sink down, just the tip, just enough to make him see stars. "Shit, baby. Don't tease."
"Thought you wanted me to take what I needed," you counter, voice breathy but carrying an edge of defiance. You lift your hips again, letting him slip out, watching the way his jaw tightens. "You said I could-"
"Sassy," he cuts you off, but there's a grin splitting his face, all teeth and mischief. His hands find your hips again, and this time he doesn't ask; he just guides you down, slow and steady, watching your face as he fills you inch by inch.
Your breath catches in your throat, fingers curling into his shoulders. The stretch is obscene, almost too much, but you take it, sinking down until you're flush against him, his cock buried to the hilt.
You moaned, feeling every ridge and vein of him inside you. Your hips start to move on their own, small, experimental circles that make him groan low in his chest.
His eyes flutter shut for a moment, and you take the opportunity to lean in, pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth. "Thank you," you murmur against his skin, and his eyes snap open. "Satoru-"
"Don't." His grip on your hips is almost bruising now. "Don't thank me, not when you're-" He bucks his hips up, just once, and the sudden jolt steals the breath from your lungs. "Not when you're doing this."
You laugh, breathless, and it dissolves into a moan as you start to move in earnest. Up and down, slow and deep, letting him watch the way your body takes him. His eyes are glued to where you're joined, watching the way your cunt glistens around his cock with every slide.
His thumbs trace patterns into your hips, not guiding, just feelingā like he can't get enough of the way your skin feels under his palms.
"Faster," he says after a moment. His voice is thick, almost strained, and there's a flush creeping up his neck. "Come on, pretty girl."
You raise an eyebrow, even as you pick up the pace. "What, you want me to-"
"I want you to ride me like you mean it." His hand comes down on your ass, sharp and sudden, and you jolt forward, a squeak escaping your throat. He grins, satisfied. "That's more like it. Now come on. Don't make me ask again."
You plant your hands on his chest, feeling the firm muscle beneath your palms, and you move. Hips rolling, thighs burning, you find a rhythm that has both of you gasping.
His head falls back again, his hands gripping your waist as you might disappear, and you feel it, the way his breathing quickens, his hips start to meet your thrusts with increasing urgency.
"Yeah," he breathes, and his voice is ragged now, all pretense of control gone. "Just like that. Fuck, baby, you feel so good-"
You lean down, pressing your forehead to his, your breath mingling. The position changes the angle, and you feel him hit something deep inside you that makes your vision white out for a second. Your nails dig into his chest, and he groans, snapping his hips up harder.
"Right there," you gasp, and he grins, that infuriatingly beautiful grin, because he knows. He knows exactly where you need him, and he's gonna give it to you. His hand slips between your bodies, fingers finding your clit with practiced precision, and you cry out, your rhythm faltering.
"Don't stop," he commands, and his voice is a low growl now. "Don't you fucking stop, baby. You're so close, I can feel it. Just let go."
You're shaking, trembling, every muscle in your body tense as he works you higher and higher. He's watching your face, eyes dark and hungry, like he's memorizing every expression you make." 'Toru," you gasp, "I can't-"
"Yes, you can." His fingers on your clit are relentless, his hips driving up into you with a pace that's almost punishing. "You're gonna cum for me, aren't you? Gonna soak my cock like the good girl you are."
The words break you. Your orgasm crashes over you like a wave, your whole body seizing as you cry out his name. Your walls clenched around him, milking him, and he groaned, his hips stuttering as he followed you over the edge.
You feel the heat of him filling you, pulse after pulse, and the sensation sends another ripple of pleasure through your oversensitive body.
When you come back to yourself, you're collapsed against his chest, his arms wrapped around you like you're something precious. His heart is pounding against your ear, and you can feel his breath ruffling your hair.
"Fuck," he murmurs, and his voice is soft now, almost sleepy. "That was-"
"Stop talking," you mumble against his skin, but you're smiling. "You'll ruin the moment."
He laughs, and it's warm, the sound vibrating through his chest and into yours. "I just saved some lucky guy from getting his dick cut off, thanks to me." Smugness filling his tone.
You smacked his chest, playfully, your palm connecting with his pectoral in a light thump. "I would not do that," you rolled your eyes, but your hand stayed resting on his chest, your fingers splayed across the firm muscle.
It was soft, the skin warm and slightly damp, and you didn't feel like moving it. He didn't mind either, his fingers finding the strings of your bikini top and toying with them absently, twisting and untwisting the fabric.
"Let me use your shower. I feel disgusting," you groaned, the words muffled against his skin.
The chlorine and sweat had dried on your body, leaving you sticky and uncomfortable, your skin tight and pulling with every movement. The heat didn't make it any better, the sun still bearing down even as the afternoon wore on.
He nodded, his chin brushing against the top of your head as he played with strands of your hair, twirling them around his finger.
You missed his shower; the water pressure was perfect, hitting your shoulders with just the right amount of force.
You'd even set up the same one in your own apartment after the first time you used it, but it never quite felt the same. You were staying the night here anyway, not like Satoru was going to say no. He never did.
katsuki bakugo has the kind of physique people swear only exists in superhero mangas ā broad shoulders, thick biceps that flex even when heās relaxed, abs carved into sharp lines, and a back so powerful it looks engineered rather than grown. every inch of him reflects years of discipline: early training sessions, strict eating habits, and a level of dedication that would break most people long before it ever built them. heās the definition of strength honed, not gifted.
and as his girlfriend, you get the everyday perks of dating someone built like a walking powerhouse. your bagās too heavy? heās already grabbed it with one hand. new furniture arrives? heās assembling it before youāve even opened the box. puddle in your way? heās lifting you without hesitation. he reaches the top shelf for you, carries every grocery bag at once, opens jars you swear were sealed by the gods, and pretends heās annoyed even though he always steps in before you can struggle.
but the best part is the intimacy the moments where all that strength he has softens just for you. cuddling with him means being wrapped in warm, solid muscle, his arms locking around you like youāre the only thing he needs to hold onto. his weight settles over you in a way that feels grounding, protective, like heās shielding you from the world without even trying. he tucks you under his chin, traces lazy circles on your back, and lets out those low, sleepy murmurs heād deny ever saying, all while keeping you pressed against the safest place you know.
ā ā¢ a/c: ryudoodles ā ļø photos are not mine, credits to owner āøāø
ź° ēč±Ŗåå·± ź± āŗ katsuki hates being loud in bed. mdni.
pro hero! bakugo x fem! reader. unprotected piv
for someone whoās so loud and cocky, katsuki is surprisingly quiet in bed. because he hates the sounds he makes, finds his own whimpers and groans pathetic and weak. he hates the way his control dissolves, the way his body betrays him with hitched breaths and feeble groans. every time a whimper āthreatensā to spill from his lips, heās gulping it down, jaw clenched so tight it aches.
he kisses you like heās trying to swallow the moans building in his own chest. his tongue sweeps into your mouth, not just to taste you, but to make sure youāre so full of him that no sound can escape.
ākats breathe,ā you gasp when he finally lets you up for air.
āshut up,ā he snarls, but thereās no heat beneath his words.
when you finally sink down onto him, taking him in inch by excruciating inch, his whole body goes rigid. a sharp hiss falls through his gritted teeth, and he immediately buries his face in the crook of your neck, as if in shame. you can feel the vibration of his groan against your throat, a guttural sound he tries so, so hard to kill.
āfuck,ā he breathes, a mere puff of air against your glistening skin. his hips remain still, even as his cock throbs inside you
when you start to ride him, his hands fly from your hips to your ass, then to your shoulders, anywhere he can get purchase, as if heās physically trying to hold himself together. his breathing becomes harsh and uneven. you can hear the struggle in every inhale. his crimson eyes are squeezed shut, his brow furrowed in concentration that has everything to do with not falling apart.
you love watching him like this. you love being the one to unravel him. you pick up the pace, rolling your hips in that way you know drives him wild, and you feel the tremor that starts in his thighs, the way his calloused fingers dig bruises into your perfect skin.
a sound thatās half-gasp, half-whimper, bubbles up, and katsuki immediately clamps his mouth down on your shoulder ā using your body to silence his own.
heās drunk on the copper leaking from your broken skin. he presses soothing kisses to your shoulder and it makes you clench even harder around him. thatās what finally makes him break. a moan tears from his throat, muffled by your flesh but unmistakable. a vulnerable sound thatās completely at odds with the explosive hero he is by day. itās the sound of him stripped of all his defenses
and he hates it. you can feel the way he freezes for a moment, horrified by his own lack of control. ādonātāā
ādonāt what ? donāt stop ?ā you tease, rolling your hips again.
āstop fuckinā lookinā at me like that,ā heāll grumble, turning his face away even as his hands white-knuckle your hips, pulling you closer.
but youāre not having it. you reach back, tangling your fingers in his sweat-damp blond hair, and pull his gaze towards yours. ālet me hear you,ā you murmur āwanna hear how good i make you feel.ā
āno,ā he shakes his head, stubbornly, eyes squeezed shut. ācanāt. itās too damn embarrassing.ā
āitās hotā you counter, āyouāre hot katsuki. now let me hear you.ā
ādonāt ā hah ā say shit like thatā he groans. his hips, now freed from their self-imposed prison, thrust up to meet yours. his moans become more frequent, little whimpers and moans he canāt swallow, each one is followed by a tightening of his jaw, a rosy flush of embarrassment creeping up his neck.
āthatās it kats,ā you encourage, ājust like that.ā
when you lean back, changing the angle just so, he finally, truly surrenders. his eyes fly open, wide and glazed with pleasure, and his mouth falls slack. a string of curses,spills from his lips. āfuuuck . . . youāre soāhckā damn youā
his face is completely red, and heās so, so loud but heās past the point of caring. his hips slam into yours, his movements losing all finesse, driven purely by need
āgonna. . fuck, baby. . iām gonnaāā he chokes out, and itās the most warning youāve ever gotten from him.
he cums with a strangled cry, your name a wanton mess on his lips. his whole body all but arches off the bed. the sounds he makes are muffled by your skin, but you feel them all the sameāthe whimpers, the groans, the exhausted panting. for a long moment, the only sound in the room is his ragged breathing and the pounding of your own heart.
then, slowly, he relaxes, his body going limp against yours. you know heās replaying every sound, every whimper, and cringing. you card your fingers through his hair, holding him close, and wait. eventually, he shifts, pressing a soft, chaste kiss to your sternum before muttering against your skin, āthatās never gonna happen againā
you donāt have to say anything. you just smile, because you know that next time, when youāre skin against skin and joined together as one, youāll break his silence all over again.
