Surrender To The Sea, Hange Zoë (pt. II)

You’re an overthinker. He noticed this the first time he met you. The way you would absentmindedly bite your lips and let your thoughts take over. That simple action had him eager to have your lips wrapped around his cock. He had told himself that he’ll fuck you until all you’re thinking about is his cock inside of you. The pleasure and pressure of him inside of you taking over your worrying thoughts that haunt you. His hands that would roam every inch of your body in hopes that his hot touch would distract you. The way he would whisper sweet little reassuring things in your ear, wishing to ease your mind.

For Jean, Levi, Connie, Reiner, Erwin, Nanami, Choso, Hiromi, Gojo, Geto, OT7 BTS & anyone else you’d like to add 🩷

Dilf!Eren with his wife who was his college sweet-heart and he basically just worships and adores the she ground walks on, especially now that they are parents.

warnings: afab!reader + she pronouns, soft sex, domestic, oral (f receiving), squirting, penetrative sex, mentions of body changes after pregnancy

eren who always said he'd love you, back when the two of you were young and thrilled. eren who vowed to love you, in sickness and in health, till death do you apart.

eren who didn't stop loving you- if somehow it was possible, he's only just more in love with you.

eren loves the days when his parents come to collect the kids, taking them out for a fun day and leaving just the two of you alone in the house. he can't resist snuggling up behind you when you're washing dishes, his plush lips pressing against your neck, his hands groping your hips, slipping under your top, his long hair tickling your face.

"eren-" you giggle as his large hand splays over your breast, squeezing the fat as he starts to rut his hips into you, letting you feel his stiffening cock.

"come on-" he coos. "those munchkins are gone- i miss you." you know it's stupid how needy he is because you see him every day and sleep in the same bed together as you've been doing for the past twenty years but eren's like that- so drunk on love, so drunk on you.

so with a sigh that you know you're faking because your lips are stretching out in a grin you let eren lead you away to the bedroom.

eren's never gotten bored of you, and you don't think he ever will. he eats you out like a man starved, mouth tireless as he laps at your wetness and sucks your throbbing clit. he loves how your legs wrap around his head, your hair tugging him against your soaked cunt, loud moans filling the room as you rut your hips against him, using him to get off as he groans, humping the edge of the bed for sheer relief as he eats you out. he fingers you so well, long fingers curling to find that sweet spot that has you crying out, trembling hands gripping his wrist as he just continues relentlessly, pushing you to an orgasm, coaxing you to cum on his tongue. but he doesn’t stop then- he continues, moaning into your pussy with you, not stopping till you’re seeing white, till your back arches off the bed and your legs tremble around his head, till you’re squirting all over his face.

eren who praises you, who calls you beautiful as his hands roam your body, loving what motherhood has done to you. he loves to slide his painfully hard cock into your warm tight cunt, moaning your name as his fingers lace with yours. he can go for rounds after rounds, loving to fuck your sweet little cunt, loving to play with your pretty nipples and kiss you messily, swallowing your moans. eren who’ll never get tired of seeing how beautiful his love looks when she cums on his cock with her name heavy on his tongue.

GROUPIE BEHAVIOR

FEATURING – ATSUMU. OSAMU. SUNA. BOKUTO. KUROO. OIKAWA.

CONTAINS – fem!reader, heavy smut, face fucking (m&f), fingering, humiliation, consensual recording, cockwarming, cucking, overstimulation, handjob, use of dildo, implied punishment, not proofread.

my first haikyuu post! can’t wait to write more for these fuckers <3 tagging the loml @riszu <33 favoritism in tsumies lmao

MASTERLIST. MINORS DNI.

ASTUMU & OSAMU

“aw, why’re you cryin’ baby? ‘s too much for ya?” ‘tsumu coos as his middle and index fingers firmly rub circular motions on your clit. little droplets of tears that ran down your flushed cheeks tickled the back of tsumies hand– the swollen tip of his cock piercing your cervix with every minor gesture you made.

it’s been 20 long minutes since you’ve been sat stuffed with astumus dick, reframing yourself from making a filthy mess of your orgasm. but it was plain to you all you won’t be successful with following his strict instruction.

osamu laid still on his side, eyeing down your bare body to your abused pussy that glistened from your arousal under the dimmed light. your poor cunt quivered endlessly around astumus thick length as you swiftly cover your lips with the palm of your sweaty hand to avoid the porn-worthy moan that was seconds away from slipping out your throat.

“such a dirty lil’ slut. ya love having osamu-kun watch you like this, don’t ya? cryin’ like a little fuckin’ baby on my cock. what’da think, bro? should we let poor ol’ y/n cum tonight? ‘s yer call,”

the word ‘please’ repeatedly murmurs out of you as if you’re begging some vicious murder to spare your life.

“i don’t know, ‘tsumu. she seems to be enjoying it really well wouldn’t ya say? i’m just not so sure if she’s deserving of it or not, ya know?”

tsumie’s hips thrust forward– his thick cock kissing your sore cervix as you cry for mercy before begging one last time, “‘m begging! it hurts, need to cum, please!

the twins share a sinning laughing before the blond’s palming your tits with his massive hand and leaning in to plant sloppy wet kisses along your jawline and neck– the addictive warmy vanilla scent that beams off your smooth skin meets with the tip of his nose daintily.

“wanna cum, ay? then be a good girl and cum all over my cock, angel. ‘n show osamu how messy this slutty pussy can get, yeah?”

BOKUTO

“fuuuck yes, baby. uh-huh that’s fuckin’ right, just like that. show these fuckers how much you love sucking my fat cock.”

currently posted in the moonlit parking lot of your guys’ campus after bo’s game, your glossed lips have wrapped themselves around his heavy cock– your fragile jaw striving to bear his whole girthy length inside your mouth.

bokuto becomes weak in the knees once he sees how your tight throat bulges around his throbbing cock every time you bob your head downwards– his trimmed pubs brushing against your nose with each movement. his throaty groans become more vocal every time you give his fat balls some attention by derisively sucking and licking on them.

he’s gaping at you in awe as his phone stays recording the filthy act of you choking and gaging on his dick once he grazes the back of your throat while you give his cell a smutty giggle before licking a line up his veiny shaft– gluing your eyes with his gorgeous golden brown ones.

bo carefully grabs a fist full of your hair with his free hand and pulls you back as you part your puffed lips open– tongue resting out, you sloppily jerk his hard cock till he’s finally panting your face with his sticky seed– his release dropping from your chin to your exposed tits.

“good fuckin’ girl. now daddy’s gonna ruin that cunt of yours and make you cum,”

OIKAWA

“keep goin’ for me, sweetheart. gosh- yes yes yes, ‘feels so fuckin’ amazing, princess,”

toru definitely has the prettiest cock you’ve ever laid your eyes on. you’d say it’s perfectly long and has ideally prominent veins that mark all around his length. it’s just perfect for you <3

your skilled hands gave him euphoric pleasure as you jerk his hard cock in a sustainable pace– never forgetting to rub his fat tip with your thumb and give his plump balls gentle squeezes at random. the filthy wet sounds that echoed within the living room had your panties dripping.

his intense breathing made it obvious he was close– his hips bucking up as he jabs his nails into his pillow.

“fuck, baby- fuck, fuck, fuck-ngh ‘m so close!”

poor baby only lasted two more strokes before he’s shooting out his pearly white load all over your polished fingers. gosh it was such a mouthwatering scene, his warm cum seeping out between your fingers as it dribbles down effortlessly from your knuckles to your tired wrists– coating the beautiful heart shaped charm bracelet he gifted you for your birthday.

milking his heavy cock, you give him a couple more drowsy squeezes before seductively licking up the mess he made all over your two hands.

SUNA

“bet my lil’ princess cunt missed me all day long. c’mere, let’s make ya feel good,”

before suna eats you out, he loves spitting right on your clit and watching his saliva drip lazily down your folds only to hear your whiney whimpers and modest begs.

and with a quick sweet kiss to your clit, he’s licking nice and slow at your hole with that genius tongue of his that carries you into a stargaze that lasts what feels like an eternity.

your backs arched high at the immense satisfaction you’re experiencing. suna’s pulling back– his lips and chin gleaming with your slik arousal– to tease your puffy folds with his lean fingers– scissoring your fluttering hole and toying with your clit to then strike your cunt with delicate little slaps that has you squirming out above him.

“p-please! ‘m so close, wanna cum so badly!” your lips caught between your teeth as your fuming face scrunches up in vast pleasure.

“but you sound so fuckin’ pretty when you beg like that, angel,”

the way you’re screaming as you reach your toe-curling orgasm was something out of a fucking porno– legs jerky and kicking upwards until they struggle to stop twitching as your cunt leaks out every once of cum you had stored.

“atta girl, knew you had it in ya. you’re too fuckin’ good for me. ‘gonna fill up this pretty pussy now till you’re leakin’”

KUROO

“you just love pissing me the fuck off, don’t you? was it worth being a brat out there?

a jealous kuroo is one dangerous being. he transforms fully lethal in a matter of seconds. so after whatever it may have been that you did to tick him off, do you really think he’s going to allow you to get off on his own cock?

fucking the baby pink dildo in and out your tight hole pitilessly, the lewd fusion of your sultry moans and the sounds of your wet pussy sends you both in heat– kuroos throbbing cock growing gradually underneath his denim jean.

the sex toy’s splitting your creamy cunt open– fucking what felt like your literal gut. you sinlessly beg your beloved kuroo to forgive you by convincing him you won’t make the same mistakes ever again, but he’s heard that one too many times. in the same wording. and same whiny voice. and same situation.

“is princess gonna cum on this stupid piece of plastic like a dumb lil’ whore? of course she is, cause she sure as hell won’t be cumming on my fuckin’ cock tonight,”

fat tears well up in your glossy eyes as you gush around the toy for the first time that night– your withering hole pulsating around the dildo as you continue to throw more pure begs at kuroo. but what you didn’t know was that he does end up fucking you, and you end up losing walking privileges for the next couple days.

© R-INDOU

false pretenses, hange zoë

so im absolutely obsessed with this thank you for putting this idea in my head😰😵‍💫wish i could tag u anon </3

original request here [X]

pairing: college au - engineering student!hange x student!female reader - they/them pronouns for hange, afab anatomy for both

summary: the best way to get what you want is to do it yourself right?

warnings: listen this is real slutty ok, explicit sexual content 18+ minors dni - loser lesbian!hange (hange has that autistic nerd rizz), its always the quiet ones, r thinks she’s slick af, poc friendly- no physical descriptions of reader, kinda-bratty/switch!reader (r gets v subby) top-leaning!Hange, strap, dirty talk, nicknames, munch activities, fingering, finger sucking, cunnilingus, praise, brief asphyxiation, i cant think of anymore

wc: 4.9k (not proofread)

an: excuse the shitty engineering attempts im not a stem girl!! hope y’all enjoy <3

—

You watched Hange from across the library, gazing over their features as they frowned. Brow creased as they solved equations that your professor had so kindly left everyone to complete after your seminar. Sometimes you’d catch their teeth nip at their bottom lip, in pensive thought.

Hange wasn't around many people, not that you saw anyway, usually kept to themselves or with the same two friends you'd seen them with. Their head often deep into a book or back hunching over a desk working some form of assignment, headphones placed over their hair.

Looking over their face, you studied Hange's strong jaw, the way their slender hand held up the weight of their head as the other scribbled down notes into their notebook. The sluttiest black tank top layered underneath an unbuttoned white dress shirt, draping over baggy brown straight-leg pants. Hair up with so many layers resting against their cheeks, framing their lovely face as multiple strands plumed out from within the hair tie. Their amber eyes lay under small, thin, glasses atop their nose. God, that nose. Perfect to sit on. Perfect to ride to holy heaven.

If it wasn’t clear, you'd had a bit of an eye on Hange for the last semester, they had transferred from a different university a while back. Upon seeing them for the first time, you wanted to speak to them. Their slightly introverted nature had made you keep your distance, though, but it was getting harder to fight the urge to go talk to them. I mean, how weird would that be? Hi, I know you don't know me but I've been obsessed with you since you transferred here? Yeah right.

No, you had to be more creative than that.

You needed a valid reason to speak to Hange so that you didn’t come across as the world’s biggest creep. Luckily for you, Hange was by far the smartest person on campus. Grades always incredibly well above average, scoring top marks in every assignment they’d submitted. So much so, that the professor had pretty much already taken them in under his wing. Due to their helpful nature and extensive knowledge in a fair range of fields, your professor was preparing Hange to be his TA after graduation. Oftentimes, passing Hange over to tutor students in his classes that lacked the grades that were expected of them at this stage in the course.

And even more luckily for you, you seemed to be really struggling with the new module. Or at least that’s what your alibi was. Who needed to know that your grades had actually been consistent passes? You were pretty strong at your theory, but you had only slightly slacked off in your classes during your professors teachings of mathematical methods and linear equations. It couldn’t hurt to get a bit of extra assistance to fill in the missing gaps.

Deciding to bite the bullet, you walked up to Hange, they barely noticed a presence beside, music blaring through the headphones, until your shoes came into their peripheral vision, spotting the black boots right beside the chair.

Their gaze followed up your bare legs, eyes slightly widened as they realised you were indeed about to induce a conversation with them and not just wandering past to get to an actual destination. They removed one cup of their headphones off their ear, holding it up with their fingers so they could listen to you. You noticed the multiple bands resting above their knuckles, bulky metallic rings varied with different patterns and weldings.

“Oh, um— hi?” Hange spoke, slightly confused, they had been deeply distracted into their equations, not anticipating someone coming to speak to them. Definitely not you, of all people.

“Hey, um— sorry to ruin your flow, but I was wondering if you could,” hesitance struck you, feeling your carefully planned script fall apart under Hange’s gaze, eyes still wide and nodding their head as a prompt for you to finish, removing the headphones fully to rest the band on the back of their neck. Why are they so hot, you thought, fumbling over yourself. “If you could tutor me with this module, you’re the smartest person in this place according to Mr. Fritz,” You joked, softening your words with a meek giggle. An attempt to make not make it seem like a big deal even though you could feel your heartbeat thump in your ears and throat.

“You can totally say no, of course,” you quickly added, after realising you didn’t actually offer them an out, not wanting to pressure Hange into having more on their plate than there already was.

Hange’s eyebrows pulled together, lips split as a wash of suspicious perplexity strained their features, only for a second before returning to normal. Back to their friendly warmth with an amiable smile stretched on their lips.

“Sure, I’d love to help,” Their eyes held yours, you to let out a faint breath of relief. “I’ve got a few things to do on campus for a while, but, I can meet you after?”

“That’d be great, thank you!” You offered to exchange phone numbers for ‘easier communication’ to plan around Hange’s schedule, before duly proposing that they come over to your dorm, as the library closed after five o’clock, and your roommates were gone for a week-long field trip.

“I’ll let you know when I’m on the way, then,” They smiled, an amused smirk etching itself on their lips before they could help it.

“That’s perfect, I appreciate it,” You beamed, “I’ll, um, leave you to your equations,” You stepped away, turning around to make your exit from the library. Hange didn’t miss the way your eyes fell onto their lips for just, perhaps, a little bit too long than was deemed socially conventional, or the way you seemed to grow flustered as they stimmed with their fingers. Hange’s gaze followed you as you walked on, trailing down to your exposed legs underneath a short skirt that hung over thick, sinuous thighs. Hange looked back down at their notebook, as they chuckled, shaking their head with endearment at your crafty deceit.

Hange certainly isn’t stupid, due to their proximity working with the professor, they were painfully aware of the more… problematic students in Mr. Fritz’ class. You were never one of them. In fact, he had even used some of your past assignments as example guidelines for the newer students. Needing help with the easiest part of the module? No way were they believing that.

—

A knock at your door, and you smoothened the fabric of your clothes, hoping to reduce any lingering creases or maybe even just to calm your nerves. You had tidied up, making your bedroom look more presentable and less like a cove of disordered chaos.

Opening the door, there stood Hange, handsome and ravishing in all their tall glory. A hand reached up to stabilise the one strap of their backpack that hung on their shoulder, the other strap dangling behind. You tried to stop, you really did, but you trailed over their figure, lured into their nonchalant stance that just exuded casual confidence as they looked back at you, an eyebrow cocked up.

Breaking contact, you welcomed them in, Hange dropped their backpack onto the floor to relieve the weight of all the heavy textbooks from their shoulders. Hand raising back up to remove the headphones from their neck, placing them atop their bag, hooked on the top handle.

You sat at your couch, leaving enough space for Hange to comfortably place themselves on. Trying to be discreet, you watched as they took off their dress shirt, hanging it on the arm of the couch, you presumed Hange was using the layer against the slightly cooler breeze outside— you couldn’t lie, you were kinda glad to see it off. Hange’s bicep was well sculpted against their black tank top as it melted into toned forearms. Tanned and strong. There was a brown cord bracelet dangling from their wrist as they rested it on their propped up knee. God, I’m no better than a man, you thought.

“So, what’d you need help with?” Hange pushed up their glasses with their ringed index finger, you wondered if that was something they often did subconsciously before beginning a task.

“Linear algebra and probability theory,”

“Hmm,” Hange nodded, a short tug at the corner of their lips, leaning their elbows on the top of their thighs, “Yeah, that stuff is pretty hard, but,”

“What did you score on the last exam?” Hange turned their head your way, amber eyes meeting yours, with a devious look.

You froze, shit. It felt like a trick question, surely Hange didn’t know the score you totalled? Surely, Hange didn’t know that you were just seven marks from a full score? It almost felt as if they were luring you into a trap; to see if you’d double down with the lie and continue with this facade or if you’d crack and admit defeat. Lose-lose either way, you’d end up embarrassed or having to make yourself look incredibly foolish.

Voice breaking in your throat, you held eye contact. Whereas Hange’s was steady and sharp, yours felt like you were just exposing yourself further the longer you remained silent.

“I-I don’t remember,” A neutral answer, you decided, totally not because you had been rendered nonverbal, clearing your throat and seeing the way Hange’s lips stretched fully into a knowing smirk.

“Hmm, you don’t remember,” They were definitely mocking you now, voice low, humming and melodic as you felt the thunder in your chest beat. You looked down at your thighs, fingers fiddling with a loose hem on your skirt.

“Getting the impression I wasn’t invited over for some homework,” They chuckled, leaning back against the support of the couch, arm stretching over the top.

One sentence and it was out in the open, the illusion you thought was so deceiving completely shattered as your true intentions came to light. Yup, embarrassing, just as you thought.

“So, why don’t you tell me the actual reason you invited me over,” If the last sentence was a stab to your confidence, this one was an extra twist in the wound. Hange was smirking at you, the mirthful look in their eyes showing you that they were relishing in your embarrassment and flustered face.

You swallowed a deep breath, feeling your skin ignite both with anticipation and nerves so lethal you almost wanted to bury yourself underneath the seat, never to be seen again.

“I, uh—“ you mumbled, the script had truly crumbled, you had no plan B apart from just spewing out the truth. You’d die before you had to do that.

“You seem a bit flustered,” Hange hummed, leaning on the back of the couch, as their thighs came to spread, “Why’s that, hm?”

The unlevelled confidence that radiated from them just seemed to further your own unease. It wasn’t often you felt that way, usually being the one to initiate flirtations with others. Yet, everything about Hange just seemed to drag you into a state of bashfulness, totally out of character as you failed to make eye contact.

“Will you look at me, love?”

You ceded, eyes meeting, as you let out a sigh. Hange placed a testing hand upon your bare knee, tentative runs of their thumb over the skin. Soft, Hange thought. The feeling eliciting shivers down your spine, warm waves down to your core, reducing you to a state of feeling unreasonably touch-starved. Hange gazed down your thighs, deliciously covered by the fabric of your skirt, moistening the edge of their upper lip with the tip of their tongue, before flickering their eyes back to you.

“What is it you really want?”

Fuck. A short gasp escaped your throat as their hand trailed up, fingers reaching underneath the hem of the short skirt. Hange was toying with you, no doubt about it.

“I… I wanted to speak to you,”

Humming, their hand moved further, “Why?”

“I found you…” you paused when their fingertips skimmed over your panties, your thighs twitched. “C-captivating, needed a reason to speak to you,”

Hange chuckled, as they leaned forward to reach the bottom of your ear, your breath hitching as their lips ghosted over the skin.

“You could’ve just asked, pretty,” Hange’s voice whispered against your ear, as you closed your eyes. You were so down bad.

“Think I haven’t noticed you, huh?” One light kiss at your skin, “Think I haven’t seen the way you stare at me?” Another kiss, ever so gentle that you almost melted into them, biting back a needy groan. Hange’s hand squeezed at your thigh, fingers towards your centre, just barely grazing over the fabric.

“I mean—god, darling, if you wanted me to fuck you that badly all you needed to do was ask nicely,” Hange’s teeth nipped at your lobe, drawing out the skin with it.

“So, ask me nicely,”

Another squeeze at your inner thigh, and no longer could you withhold the groan that you’d been holding back. You were fighting so many demons right now, hesitant to verbalise your inner desires. Hange remained near your ear, licking at the soft skin. Fuck it.

“I want you so fucking bad,” Your voice came out so much whinier than you expected, used to hearing that tone from others, but never from yourself.

“Aren’t you gonna say please?” They chuckled, dragging it out, teasing. Hange eyed the pout at your lips, the slight frown in your brows—could tell you were used to getting what you wanted easily, to not submitting. They planned to fix that.

“Fucks sake—please, Hange,” You pressed your thighs together, trapping Hange’s hand as they gripped you, as a prompt for them to do something, anything.

“Better.”

With their other hand, the one not currently trapped in between your legs, Hange grabbed at your hip. Kneading over your hip bone, where the dainty zip of your skirt dangled. The sensation caused your thighs to loosen autonomously, as Hange opportunely released their hand an inch. Slipping underneath the hem of your damp panties, fingers teasing at your slit, collecting your slick.

“You this messy just for me?” Their sinful, warm words made you shiver, goosebumps down your arms as they hit your ear. You wriggled, skirt rolled up to your hips, exposing your panties. Messy, indeed. You were growing impatient as you attempted to roll your hips into their hand, craving contact. Hange’s fingers recoiled, pushing from your slit pulling the fabric with as they tutted. Tightening their other hand on your hip once more, stilling your movements.

“C’mon, surely you’ve figured out how this works by now,” Hange’s words sounded so sweet, if it wasn’t for the absolute torture lurking underneath. Eager to tease and play with you for as long as it would take for you to actually listen and cede. With a brattish groan and a sigh, you nodded.

“Words, darling, use them.”

“Y-yes, shit—all for you, Hange.” Voice breathy, avidly impatient. Your core leaked more slick when it clenched, totally ruining your panties as it clung to your folds. The sight absolutely delectable. “I need you so bad—can’t take it,”

There it was. Finally.

“Was that so hard?” Hange hummed, a satisfied smirk creeping over their lips as they teased a finger down your slit, only slightly breaking through your entrance. Pressing your lips against theirs as you whimpered into the kiss, biting at Hange’s plump bottom lip.

“Now then, be a good girl and stay put.”

Hange pressed their finger fully into you, soon adding another two once they saw how keenly you were taking them already, walls wet and ready. Your head fell into Hange’s neck, meek moans spilling from your mouth as their slender fingers hit the back of your squishy walls.

Without removing themselves from your warm heat, Hange cased a hand at your ass, pulling you on top of their lap. Using their clothed thigh to rut their fingers up even further, other hand forcing your hips into gyration against them. The friction from their jeans hit against your sensitive clit and with their fingers inside you, you were a hot mess already. Needy and desperate from their heartless teasing.

“Ah—that’s…fucking good,” You hissed, as Hange lapped their tongue down your neck, before sucking, branding you with many dark marks leading down to your chest.

Catching the hem of your shirt, you threw your arms up to discard it, revealing your breasts to the room’s cool air, heaving up and down with heavy breaths. Hange almost moaned at the sight of you, shirtless with a short skirt pooled around your hips, draping over their knees. Of course you weren’t wearing a bra, they thought. As Hange thrust their fingers into you, their mouth wrapped over your nipples, flicking over them with their tongue. Nipping lightly over the peaks. You arched your back into them, feeling yourself grow closer, the tension in your abdomen building as you bit your lip.

Your hips lost their rhythm, aimlessly chasing the feeling of Hange’s fingers deep within you. Languid gasps and breathless moans escaping your lips. So, so close to your peak until the sensation was suddenly stripped away, leaving you totally empty. Hange removing their fingers, you could hear your own slick cry as they did, your walls tensing.

“Wha-“ You were a bit dazed, a truthfully a little annoyed, you had been so close.

“You’ve not earned it yet,” Hange laughed, clearly relishing in your frustration. They liked this, liked making you destitute, left wanting. Hange had every intention of fixing that sugared insolence they could see within you. Had every intention of tearing it inside out.

Hange reached down to their leather belt, maintaining eye contact as they unclasped the metal peg, lifting you up off their knees slightly to pull their jeans down, before removing their tank top. Their chest rose up and down, bound beneath a black binder. You could see their own centre soaking through their underwear. You ogled their figure, groaning as your sinful thoughts worsened. The kind of imagination that would surely commit you to purgatory indefinitely.

Hange pecked your charming pout away, before bringing their soaked fingers up in front of your mouth. Spreading your lips open with their thumb, shoving it inside so you could taste your own slick on it. Their other fingers followed suit.

“Clean up your mess,”

Hange watched you, your lips bruised and plump as they split to allow entrance for their index and middle finger. Sucking your juices off them as you moaned, gagging as they hit the back of your throat. Brows pinched and eyes brimmed with tears from the hot burn. Hange’s thumb pressed against your bottom teeth, pulling your jaw open, a line of drool slipping out from the corner of your open mouth. Hange would kill just about anyone for you, they thought. Irreversibly addicted to you, your needy eyes and the way you fell to follow their orders.

“So beautiful,”

Hange hung over you. Looking into your glassy eyes, with the hold against your jaw, pinky finger at your chin, they held your mouth open, spitting on your tongue.

“Swallow.”

You did. Quite happily as you groaned, muffled as your mouth was stuffed. Feeling yourself grind against Hange’s bare thigh, your core clenching around nothing as you yearned for the feeling of their fingers back inside you. Your inner thighs completely soaked, spreading it all over Hange’s bare legs.

“Such a good girl—so obedient for me,” They hummed, relieving their attack on your mouth, taking their fingers out and grasping the back of your neck, “Wonder if anyone else has ever slut you out like this, hm?”

You shut your eyes, leaning into their touch as you whined out a passive ‘No’, shaking your head to Hange’s question, not fully trusting the strength of your own voice. Fuck, you were totally gone, lost in salacity and paralysed by your own thirst. Almost brain-dead as your desire thumped in your ears, and throbbed at your core. About to explode from your own ardour as it’d eagerly been building up. Hange was divinely addictive, a substance you should never have risked trying. You could never possibly go back now, too ruined to ever possibly go to anyone else. Totally and utterly hooked on Hange.

“Aw, look how docile you are now, pretty.”

Hange kissed at your neck, coming back up to meet your lips again as you mewled against them.

“H-Hange— please, need more,” You squirmed against their lap, “Can’t take it, need to cum so badly,” You were finally begging, hesitation leaving you to fend for yourself as Hange had you right where they wanted.

“Yeah? How do you want it, baby?”

In between strained breaths, you pointed to your drawers. Strategically placed next to the couch, as Hange reached over. Chuckling once they saw your strap in its resting place.

“This what you want?”

Nodding, you rutted against Hange’s thigh, forcing some friction to rub against your clit.

“Please, fuck,” You sobbed, visions of Hange stuffing you with your strap forcing you to squeeze your thighs against Hange’s lap.

“Since you asked so nicely,”

Hange gently nudged you off their lap, to allow them to slide the harness over their thighs. You sat beside them, legs folded underneath yourself. Hand placed delicately on the side of their head, pressing sweet kisses down the skin of their neck as they adjusted the harness to fit around the circumference of their thighs. Hange shivered under your lips, eyes shutting as they indulged in the sensation for a moment, cursing as you began to lick under their lobe. You were delightful.

Hange’s hand danced along your thigh, fingers streaming past your slit as they groaned at how unbelievably wet you were.

“You’re fucking sublime,” They groaned, dragging you over their lap, hands ripping both the skirt and your ruined panties off your legs. Hange laid their back on the couch, folding your bare thighs over their jaw. You bit your lip in keen anticipation, it was almost as if you had manifested this.

“Fuck—Hange, I’ve dreamt about this for so fucking long,” Your legs twitched above Hange’s face, as a radiant smirk shone on their lips.

“Yeah? Thought about this?” Their hands clung around the plush skin of your ass, fingers squeezing tightly. They pulled you on to a steady stream along their face, teased a lick up your folds before your slit was pressed down against their flat tongue, lapping up your slick as their nose rubbed over your clit.

“F-fuck, so much—was just like this,” You gasped as you rode Hange’s face, watching dumbly as their face contorted with gluttonous solace. Eyebrows creasing as they focused on eating you out. You crumbled, finally feeling some release after being teased for what felt like many unbearable hours. Truly, it was better than you could have imagined, Hange’s fly-aways catching on their cheeks and the sides of their face as they grew dampened, your slick slapping their cheeks and fogging up their glasses from splatters and wet heat.

Resting your hand on their knees for stability, your fingers acted on their own as you came to reach underneath the strap that was dangled in the air, waiting to be used. Your fingers came to meet Hange’s folds, sliding easily past their sensitive labia, nearly as wet as your own, aching. Having been unbearably turned on since they saw your body’s visceral responses to them.

“That’s—so fucking hot, shit,” You whimpered, lost in the feeling of Hange’s insistent tongue slowly flicking deep against you and the way their centre seemed to just suck your fingers right in. Hange let out a muffled, guttural grunt into you, the vibrations making you clamp your thighs tight against their head. You almost felt apologetic, if it wasn’t for Hange, who seemed to get riled up by the very prospect of being choked out by your luscious thighs. Oxygen supply decreasing as amber eyes rolled into the back of their head, toned arms pulling you closer against them. Leaving behind marks on your skin that outlined where their fingers had been digging in.

Whilst simultaneously, you were plunging your fingers knuckles deep into their entrance. Your body leaning back as you bucked your wrist against them, fingers curling inwards against their walls. Hange’s eyes were stuck on you, watching as your body rocked against their mouth. Head hung back and breasts perked up as beads of sweat trickled down, illuminating your skin, the fine hairs around your stomach standing upright. Looking properly, they spotted a few moles scattered on your stomach, your lips were swollen as they bit out mutters of curses under your breath. Still trying to return the favour even despite feeling ruined. How divine.

The sight alone brought Hange to their knees, hazy pleasure erupting through them as they felt their body tremble. Truthfully, Hange seldom let people touch them, opting to typically give rather than receive, yet they felt like giving you permission to do whatever you wished with their body. They were so hypersensitive, extra responsive under your ambrosial touch. Debauched gasps melted into your core, still lapping at your slick as they rode through their own peak. Shuddering, as they seized their thighs against your wrist.

“Did you cu-“ Your excited, breathy voice was cut off by Hange grabbing your wrist, ripping your fingers out of themselves from overstimulation, their centre tensing with arousal dripping down their folds. Hange nodded as an affirmative, you could tell they were slightly stunned. Hange held your wrist against your back, elbow folding over as they lifted themselves up. Disconnecting your slit from their mouth, and moving you around as you returned to facing each other, your legs resting over their lap once more.

Hange’s spare hand caressed your jaw, uniting your lips together as they melded over yours. Sloppy, open-mouthed kisses, slipping their tongue into your mouth. You whined as they angled the tip of the strap over your folds, your slick lubricating the plastic. Hange was frenzied, desperately needing to see you stuffed with the silicone length. Elated from their own high, their words grew more depraved.

“Need to fuck this pussy,” They rasped, voice at the lowest frequency you’d heard from them, “Prettiest fucking pussy I’ve ever seen,”

Your lips parted as Hange slipped the tip inside, stretching your walls out as you gripped onto their shoulders. Hissing as you adjusted to Hange burying themselves into your tender flesh. Sinking yourself down on the strap as your hips undulated against them, pressure building up again within your abdomen as Hange fucked the strap deep into you. Tip massaging over your inner walls, repeatedly hitting that same spot that made your breath catch in your throat and your vision go white.

“Fuc—keep going, pleas—please,” Mewling, you shut your eyes, eyebrows furrowing as your nails came to scratch at Hange’s back. Your words coming out in broken sobs, tears spilling down your cheeks as you were split apart on your own strap.

“So full—Hange—“

Hange sucked against your neck, then licking over the sore spots.

“Taking me so well,” Hange praised, voice sweetly laden with saccharine honey, “Sat so pretty on my cock,”

“ngh—Shit-I-I’m gonna come,” You were shaking, thighs trembling and abdomen twitching. Finally about to release after being so cruelly edged twice. The expression on your way was picture-worthy, fucked out and wanton.

“That’s it,” Hange kept rutting up into you, muttering praises, “Come all over me, baby,” A nibble at your earlobe and you were done for. Your climax reached you, tensing up your spine, mouth agape as you shuddered, face contorted.

“You look so pretty when you come,”

Your core tightened as you spilled out your release; the force pushing the strap out from inside you, squirting all over Hange’s lap. The hardest you’ve ever come in your life.

Hange didn’t relent just yet, making sure to fuck you through your peak so you could ride every second of it. When you finally stilled, your head fell onto Hange’s neck, murmuring softly against their clavicle. Sighing, you lifted your head up, greeting Hange’s half-lidded eyes with your own. A beat and Hange reconnected your lips together, gently kissing you as you came down. Mind still fuzzy and reeling. Their hands caressed your hips, thumbs running down your skin.

“You’re beautiful,” Hange whispered, pressing a tender peck down against your swollen lips, “Wish you would’ve talked to me earlier,”

You laughed, breathy and uneven, as bashfulness struck again. Once the cloud of lust had settled, you were left with nerves, that doe look back in your eyes as you weren’t quite sure what to do now. What if Hange never wants to see you again? After all of this, you don’t think you could handle being emotionally ghosted. It was unlike you entirely, but the interest in Hange remained, simmering as you relished in their tight hold— a hold that almost promised you it wasn’t going to leave. You dared to dream.

“What are you thinking about?” Hange muttered, resting their forehead against yours, eyes closing.

“Um…” You hummed, hesitant, “This, I guess, I’m a little… nervous,”

“I guess I am, too,” They chuckled, pressing their head closer, hands still setting your skin aflame, “But, i-if you’d like to, I wanna take you out,” Pausing, “On a real date, that is, not under false tutoring pretences,”

You pulled your head back, trying to suppress the smile that threatened to stretch, an attempt at masking the hopeful beam in your eyes.

“I’d love that.”

—

listen u guys 😭 someone pls sedate me or give me a lobotomy cos what am i meant to do when i PINE over 2d characters

let me know if u guys enjoyed <3 i love to read ur comments and inputs

i’m not crying, u are

no. 322

i’m sure that this won’t get traction but

where are the smutty x reader fics of jacked guys loving on girls who aren’t tiny 20 year old darlings, but those guys sure as hell make you feel that way?

give me sugar daddy!toji who wants a sweet cutie pie that’s not half his age. give me pro hero!deku that loves your curves and can manhandle you better than anyone else. give me daddy!gojo who loves your laugh lines and digs his fingers into your soft flesh any chance he gets. give me a dabi who finds the readers that aren’t perfectly conventionally attractive sexy as fuck and wants every inch of them in the best and/or darkest ways. give me pro hero!bkg who gets turned on by your first gray hairs because he knows that he is the one that gets to fuck you senseless for the rest of your lives.

give me the unconventional. send recs. i’m desperate.

fantasy - mdni

pairings: dilf!nanami x fem!reader 

synopsis: you meet your friend’s dad - not expecting that he turns out to be your favorite porn star 

cw: age gap (reader is 21, nanami is 42), college girl reader, mentions of porn and masturbation, dumbification, daddy kink, unprotected intercourse, oral (giving and receiving), fingering, nipple play, cowgirl, mating press, degradation, teasing, nicknames (doll, princess), name calling (slut, whore), one mention of anal 

word count: 4.7k pure filth (i’m sorry)

───────── ⋆⋅ ⋆ ⋅⋆ ─────────

The paperwork in front of you made you frown. You groaned internally. The semester had just started but your professor did not plan to go easy on your class. An important assignment was due, making you put in extra effort. Yue,  a friend you met in this class, was sitting next to you. She was polite and well-mannered, making you feel comfortable around her even though you had only known her for a short amount of time. 

You happily agreed to go to her house since she lived off campus; away from all the stuffy libraries. She told you that her father was a salaryman, often working overtime. He usually came home late which meant you had the house to yourselves to study. 

Keep reading

plug me | issei matsukawa

× a/n : this is my addition to the ukai nation ' take a ride with me ' collab ! i wasn't exactly pleased with my writing this time around, but im going to post anyways, so i hope you'll all enjoy it.

× summary : you and your plug issei have had the hots for each other for quite awhile.

x warnings ! : f!reader, weed, selling weed, plug! mattsun , usage of weed / marijuana , sex under the influence , oral fem! receiving , finger sucking , degradation , face slapping , dub con? (a little, just in case) , mentions of male masturbation , vaginal penetration , squirting , he finishes inside, not proofread. let me know if i missed anything <3

matsukawa had always had some sort of thing for you, whether it was just him thinking you were cute, or fuckable, he had always had eyes for you. of course you hadn't exactly noticed, convinced that a guy as attractive as mattsun wouldn't be interested in you, instead, he was just nice.

but god was it the complete opposite. you'd never know how many nights he'd fisted his cock thinking about you, just after you had left from buying a bag from him. how many times he'd turned down girl after girl, having only you occupying his mind.

it was obvious to his roommate hanamaki, who observed every grin on issei's lips when you would text. he'd notice the way mattsun would change his clothes before you arrived, obvious when he watched issei throw extra buds of weed into your sacks time and time again.

this time though, makki wouldn't be around to witness it, having gone to stay with family for a little while, issei had been left alone. this thought circulates in the back of his mind as he stares down at your form through a slightly cracked front door, brows raised up slightly as he fights every urge to look your body up and down, dressed up real cute in one of those velvet night sets.

"hey sorry i didn't text.. i forgot. can i get a quarter?" you ask so sweetly, so saccharine that he couldn't possibly say no even if he had wanted to. your keys jingle in your hand as you clasp both hands together beneath your bust, and this time, issei deliberately looks you up and down, tongue poised between his teeth. he licks at his bottom lip, allowing the door to swing all the way open, revealing his white tank top and grey sweatpant clad body. "course you can, sweetheart. come on in,"

he turns on his heel, silver chain resting pretty on his chest glinting under the porch light for just a split second. you feel your heart hammering in your chest as you step in behind him, eyes surveying the all too familiar layout of his apartment. you feel flustered from him even just looking at you, a hand coming up to rub at your cheek.

you take a seat on his couch, and moments later he sits down beside you, a scale and a jar of weed in his hands. the cushions dip in beneath his weight, and issei makes quick work of measuring out your desired amount of greenery. to avoid staring at him, you fumble around with your wallet to pull out a twenty dollar bill,

"you got any plans tonight?"

you nearly drop your wallet at his deep baritone suddenly meeting your ears, his expectant gaze right on you as he puts your weed in a zip lock bag. you go braindead for just a quick moment, staring at him dumbfoundedly as you process his question, too worked up already.

he grins, eyebrows raising up. you feel dumb, but he thinks you couldn't be cuter. "no.. was probably just gonna smoke and go to bed.." you trail off, looking away from him and across the living room area. your attention is only drawn back when the bag of weed is placed in your lap, issei's long fingers then reaching for the bill in your hand. there's a moment of silence as he pauses, eyes locking onto yours over the exchange of money in your hands. it's like he's building up courage, lips parting to speak as the crisp twenty finally slips from your grasp and he folds it into itself. "then do you want to share a blunt with me before you go?"

issei feels the corners of his lips curling into a wide smirk, watching as your pretty little eyes widen to the size of saucers. you're so dumb innocent, the way you open your mouth to speak yet no words come out, leaving you gaping like a fish out of water.

you want to ask why, why he would want to smoke with you. why everytime he even glances at you your cunt clenches around nothing and flutters. but the only thing that you can get past your lips is a, "s-sure." to which he smiles, yet another breathtaking grin. your heart is hammering in your chest as he packs the weed into a wrap, bringing it up to his lips before pausing and looking over at you.

"you know, you're my favorite customer."

he says this casually, nonchalantly as if it wasn't anything at all. matsukawa keeps his eyes on you as he drags the tip of his tongue over the edge of the blunt, wetting the paper and smoothing it up with his lip as he uses his fingers to roll it tightly. you swallow down the lump in your throat, feeling rather /hot/ as you watch him continuously lick at the joint. "i-i am?"

his lingua follows the seam of the blunt all the way from one end to the other, brows raising with sheer amusement because this was exactly the question he was hoping you'd ask, exactly the moment and opportunity he had been waiting to seize.

he remains quiet for a moment, igniting his lighter and running the flame over the blunt to dry it. he keeps his gaze locked onto you, looking through the orange hue that flickers over his frontispiece from the lighter. instead of answering your question, he leans forward with his knees on his elbows, brows raised up to his hairline. "don't act clueless sweetheart. you're pretty and dumb, but you can't be that dumb."

"but i don't—" the blunt is presented to you, rolled precisely and tightly. you go to take it, hesitantly and tentatively, but issei suddenly pulls it back, "nu-uh. ill light it for you. now go on and wrap those pretty lips around it for me, yeah? behave and ill tell you why you're my favorite." his eyes gleam, looking at you as if he's a predator and you're his prey. he bites down on his bottom lip with his front teeth as you finally take the blunt into your mouth, lips plump and glossy. issei leans even closer now, bringing the lighter up to the other end,

"you're my favorite cause you're so good. so pretty, always wearin' those little outfits when you come to see me. all dolled up, just for me." he grins, flicking the lighter and bringing it over the blunt to light it. he watches as the edges begin to curl and the weed begins to glow with heat, "you just want me to smoke you out and fuck you dumb, isn't that right?"

was he wrong? absolutely not. but, who wouldn't want to fuck their ridiculously hot drug dealer? issei was.. different. the way he acted, the way he talked, moved, carried himself. he was unlike any other man you had met before. it sparked something within you.. the desire for something more with the guy who regularly sold you weed.

you hadn't been trying to catch his attention, initially. for awhile, you just admired him when you had the chance, bought your weed and went home. it was only after a visit to buy weed in which you had brought a friend, had she convinced you that issei liked you. she swore by it, claiming that it was obvious in the way he looked at you. soon after, you began purposely seeking his attention, and making more frequent visits to his apartment.

the smoke that enters your lungs burns, it always does, but it burns just right. it wasn't too strong, not suffocating, but it's issei's words that make you choke, sucking in a bit too hard and a bit too fast. he pulls the blunt back, lips pooching into a pout. "aw, too much? stupid little baby can't even take a hit?"

it's raunchy, the way those mean words made you cunt throb, the way his behavior has your cunt leaving a wet, sopping spot beneath you on his couch. you inhale deeply after exhaling the rest of the smoke, looking up at him with glassy eyes. you knew where this was headed, what he wanted and what he meant by saying you were his favorite. how dumb would you be to pass up this opportunity?

you nod your head, fingers reaching up to splay across his lower stomach, cleverly using that as a crutch to help you move closer to him. "need your help, issei."

"yeah?" fuck, you were such a little tease, already riling him up like that. cock already pressing against the cloth of his sweatpants. he's grinning, bringing the blunt to his lips and taking a deep hit. he holds it in his lungs, free hand taking a tight grip over your chin. he uses his thumb to pry your lips apart, and in a strained voice he tells you, "open."

you do as your told, but not before sealing your lips around his thumb and sucking for just a moment. when you finish, he leans forward, moving his thumb and holding onto your face even tighter. you feel the brush of his lips against yours, and before you can react, he's exhaling all the smoke he was holding in right into your mouth.

long, slightly rough digits squeeze your cheeks tightly as he watches you suck in the second hand smoke. "good girl." you already feel buzzed, just barely lightheaded. you smile with lidded eyes, and when you've held the hit in your lungs long enough to be satisfied, you pucker your lips and slowly blow it across his face.

between hits off the blunt and lips continuously clashing, you find yourself topless and splayed across the cushions of his couch, the smoke that the two of you had been blowing out now thick in the atmosphere of his apartment.

issei's chain thumps against his chest as his own shirt slides over his head, a smirk playing on his lips as it drops to the floor and he leans over you, trailing his lips from the edge of your bare hip all the way up to your lips. you let your hand cup his cheek, fingers running through his curls as you pull him in for a kiss. he grips your side as his lean waist settles between your legs, hard cock resting comfortably against your cunt.

the way your lips move against his feels as if it's in slow motion, smacking together and tongues poking and sliding. he grinds against you, eliciting a gasp from you that he more than happily swallows. he kisses you one last time, pulling back with a sharp inhale and a "fuck" as he takes in the sight of you, laid out on his couch half naked and pretty, so sweet and syrupy it could have given him a cavity.

"real pretty for me, aren't you?" he asks with a rhetorical tone, eyes glancing downward as he buries his fingers under the waistband of your shorts and pulls them back, elastic snapping against your skin sharply. you keen, desperately lifting your hips up off the couch. he takes this opportunity to tug your bottoms halfway down your thighs, enough that he's able to easily glide them over your knees and throw them aside.

almost immediately you bring your hands to cover your face, far too embarrassed by your soiled panties that were exposed for him to see. he cups your pussy, not even phased by the warm cloth sticking to his skin. issei grinds his palm into your hypersensitive clit, "look at me while i play with your sloppy pussy."

two digits slide up and down the shape of your slit, panties wet and malleable. he toys with the wet cloth just a little more, soon peeling it away from your body. it drags down your thigh, leaving a glistening trail of slick across your smooth skin. instead of dropping your undergarments to the ground, he slides them into his pocket. he doesn't give you the opportunity to call him out on it, because he's spreading your legs and leaning forward, a strong hand placed firmly on your knee.

the warmth of his tongue laps at your thigh, licking up any smear of your juices greedily. the room around you spins, and even with issei tonguing closer and closer to your cunt you can't help but squeeze your eyes closed, head falling back in tandem with the first stroke of the tip of his tongue against your clit. "oh god—"

you don't know if you're sensitive because your high or if you're just that hot for matsukawa, but you don't have the right mindset to figure it out, spine delicately arching as he flattens his tongue against your throbbing bundle of nerves, slowly working himself deeper and deeper between your lower lips. fingers fly down between your legs, gripping and tugging at his curls to which he gives you a low and throaty groan. it reverberates through your pussy, and when your legs dare to snap shut he's prying them open with an iron grip over the back of your knee, gaze intense as if he's telling you not to do it again.

theres a kiss placed to your apex, and then another and another until he's sloppily tonguing and sucking, flickering against your entrance before gliding back up. your mouth hangs agape, only silent squeal and the occasional gasp leaving it while you gush and writhe against him, coming closer and closer to your peak.

just as soon as you begin to feel your orgasm building up in your gut, issei brings two fingers up to your tight little hole. he sucks down on your clit with a vacuum like seal as he plunges them both deep inside, eyes nearly rolling back at the way your cushiony walls close in around them.

he feels impatient, but as much as he'd like to shove his sweats down and shove his cock inside of you, he knows he's got to get you prepped. especially for the first time the two of you would be together like this.

with quick precision he curls his fingers up into that tender spot he knows is there, rubbing the pads of his fingers against it repeatedly. he breaks the seal of his mouth on your cunt when he feels you tense up, a sharp cry breeching your gaped lips. he's moving quickly to hover above you, eyes trained on your face as he pumps both fingers in and out of you. issei's palm slaps against your cunt, over and over again with only milliseconds between as he jerks his hand even faster.

"m— im gonna cum!"

with those words, the trembling of your thighs can't be held back anymore, hips grinding against his palm, desperately chasing that teetering orgasm. issei watches, even stops the movement of his fingers just to see you finish this way, all by yourself as you ride his fingers. he only crooks his finger slightly, giving just enough pressure that you finally break like a dam, gushing against his hand.

"fuuuck!" he groans loudly, fucking his fingers into you until there's nothing left, until his hand comes to a slow stop, and he carefully slips them out. issei crawls up towards you, fingertips pressing against your lips and smearing your cum all over. they push past your lips, and like a good little slut you clean them off, bobbing your head up and down and swirling your tongue.

issei couldn't be more pleased with how compliant you were, watching as you lick and suck your own cum from his fingers. he hums with satisfaction, digits popping from your lips with a thin sheen of saliva connecting them. his free hand pushes at the waistband of his sweatpants, getting them down just low enough to tuck beneath his balls. he sits back on the couch, his phalanges that drip with your spit wrapping around the base of his cock and pumping leisurely.

the sensitive skin soon glistens with your spit, cock tall and leaning slightly. the tip is a angry red, precum forming in beads that roll down his slit and the underside of his cock, shaft tan and smooth. you feel your breath hitch as you watch him, as you watch the precum slide past his balls and disappear into his hair. it's like he's moving in slow motion, a large hand coming to pat his lap and signal you to come on over. "you'll be a good girl and sit on my cock, won't you?"

"yes daddy." the response is almost immediate, shocking both you and him. he grins widely, legs spreading father apart as he sinks down lower on the couch. mattsun runs his hand along the back of your leg as you straddle his waist, bracing one arm on the headrest of the couch while using the other to reach behind you and find his cock. your throat constricts as you swallow thickly, the sheer size of his length having not slipped by unnoticed. you rub the tip back and forth along your slit, collecting some of you arousal that leaks from your slightly prepped hole.

once, twice even three times his cockhead swipes past your entrance, before finally it catches and pops inside. your eyes widen, eyelashes fluttering uncontrollably. "nngh— fuck–" you grip at his shoulders, nails lightly biting into his skin from how tightly you hold onto him. issei takes ahold of your hips, tilting his head back slightly in order to look at your face through amused and lidded eyes. he liked it, liked watching you struggle to sink down on his fat cock. he liked the way your eyes have already begun to water, the way you whimper.

he eases himself inside of you slowly, rolling his hips upward and working more and more of his cock through the tight muscles. sweat lines your skin in a thin layer, inner thighs and legs aching from how long you've had to hold yourself in this position. you feel ridiculously full, like ten tons of pressure against your cervix.

when issei's hips finally meet with your skin, he lets out a gasp, being fully enveloped in the warmth of your cunt. tears are streaking down your cheeks, lips trembling as you part them to speak, "s-so full!"

"you can take it." it's a clear statement, not a suggestion or a question. his hips are rearing back down before you can even protest, almost immediately setting a steady pace. your breasts undulate with every thrust, every bounce upon his cock. you're held in place just like that, squealing and thrashing as mattsun throws his pelvis up into you.

it only takes a few thrusts before you cum again, the stretch and pressure just about forcing it to gush against him. he releases your hip to grip you chin, squeezing tightly and then pulling back to sharply slap you across the face. the sting brings heat to the surface of your skin, the shock causing you to choke on the moan that had been trapped in your throat. "didn't fuckin' tell you to cum again."

for a split second, issei considers going easy on you, but the sudden tightening of your pussy around him after he's slapped you changes his mind. he reaches a hand around to the back of your head, grabbing the ends of your hair and tugging so that your head bends back. he grunts, feeling his balls begin to pull up as he nears his release, "should fucking make you clean up the couch shouldn't i? going and making and mess like that without even asking for permission."

you nod your head, agreeing to every statement like a good little slut. your walls clench and convulse around him, and with a particularly sharp tug to your hair you feel that knot in your stomach become dangerously tight yet again. inhaling deeply you claw at his chest, "gonna cum again, please—!"

he's pleased with how quickly you learn, granting your lease with a quick nod of his head. matsukawa releases your hair, hand coming to press tightly against the back of your head in a sloppy kiss. he's scooted up to the edge of the couch, holding out until he feels you coming undone once again. he uses his free hand to push down on your hip with all the force he has, rocking you back and forth over his cock. you're held in place yet again when he cums, groaning hotly into your mouth and grinding until you've milked him for every last drop.

slowly but surely, issei's hips still, fingers loosening on your head and hip and allowing you to slump over onto his shoulder, arms and legs limp. his chest heaves, leaning back with you until his back meets the cushions. he's lost his high, gazing up at his ceiling because fuck he can't believe he's just done this with you. he pushes on your shoulder, leaning you back to get a good view of you, "you alright?"

you nod with a wide smile, glowing in a post orgasmic glow. you lean down and capture his lips in a kiss before pulling away with a hum, "mm, can we smoke again?" and issei can only grin wildly, because he's finally found someone that can match his crazy.

─ BIRTHDAY GIRL

gojo, geto, nanami, toji x fem!reader (separately)

trigger warning: overstimulation, dirty talk (geto), use of handcuffs (nanami), public s!x, degradation (toji)

༘♡ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

you wake up by the feeling of a soft tongue running against the skin of your inner thigh. opening your eyes slowly, the first thing you see is gojo's face, squishing his cheek against your thigh, lazy blue eyes watching you with a glint of adoration.

"morning beautiful." he whispers just before placing a kiss over your clothed pussy.

"w-what time is it?" you ask weakly, your legs already slightly trembling.

"who cares? today's your birthday, we can do whatever you want, we got all day..."

you watch him slowly raise his eyes at you again, smirking mischievously and you can feel his hot breath against you.

"so..." he begins to talk while running his fingertips along the curve of your hips. "what do you want, mmh?"

he's really asking that when his lips are a few centimeters away from your pussy.

"your mouth, I want your mouth..." you whisper to him and he smirks again.

"where? here?" he teases, taking your hand to kiss the back of it. "be more specific baby or else I can't give it to you..." he laughs at your disappointed face and whines a little as you gently tug at his white hair to bring him closer to where you need him most.

"hereeee satoru, need you here." you almost groan in frustration, lifting your hips in the air in a needy way.

"oh here?~" he murmurs just before kissing your hidden pussy, this time using his tongue to wet the soft fabric of your panties.

you feel the tip of his tongue circles around your clit and it makes you shiver, your eyes are already rolling back even though he barely touched you.

gojo loves to tease you, sometimes he makes you beg just for a kiss, but today's your birthday, so he will be nice, at least at first.

bonus:

he brings you gifts in the morning. a lot of gifts. even more than usual. clothes, jewelry, perfumes, flowers, books, nintendo switch, pokemon cards, anything you want, he got it.

༘♡ 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎

you know your boyfriend has a thing for edging you. he likes to deny you for hours and hours, makes you cry and beg in frustration until you sound like a broken record, saying "please" over and over again... he just loves it when you're so horny and sensitive that he could make you cum just by blowing air on your pussy. but on special occasions, he like to do the opposite, it's his way of spoiling you on your special day. he's so nice isn't he?

"su-suguru wait! you're... you're being mean!" you cry out, your trembling body trapped against his chest.

"I don't think your pussy agrees with you sweetheart, look how she's spasming when I remove my hand, she wants more..." he mocks with a wicked grin.

your skin burns with embarrassment at his words, talking about your genitals as if they were a real person. you'd be jealous if you weren't so overstimulated right now.

slowly, he puts two of his fingers inside you again and you moan at how full you feel just with his fingers alone.

he brings his mouth closer to your ear and you get goosebumps through your whole body, his lips almost touching your skin.

"come on lovely, give me one more I know you can." he whispers as he licks your earlobe.

"too much... can't..."

you squirm between his arms, your left hand desperately holding onto his forearm as his muscles flex while he pumps his fingers in and out of your pussy, his thumb toying with your clit. he clicks his tongue in disapproval and lifts your chin up so he can look at your face.

"you can still talk now can't you? mmh... looks like you're still using that brain of yours, let's fix that sweetheart."

while fingering you, he slides the thumb of his other hand in your mouth and you start sucking on it without even thinking, half lidded eyes trying to focus, your vision blurry as you can feel your sixth orgasm of the night coming. he smiles, flicking your clit a bit more harshly.

"cum sweet girl, you deserve to feel really good on your birthday."

bonus:

he takes you to your favorite restaurant <3 and he's smart enough to fuck you AFTER your date unlike toji 💀

༘♡ 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈

nanami knows how to listen, it's one of the main reasons why you fell in love with him. he listens and remembers everything you tell him. so of course he remembered when you confessed that some day you'd like to be tied up to his bed during sex. and tonight, for your birthday, he has decided to indulge that fantasy of yours. at first he thought it was a bit silly, the smile on your face when he handcuffed you to the headboard of the bed made him laugh a little. it's only when he finds himself kneeling between your legs, facing you, watching your eyes darken with lust and the way you're already tugging at your restraints that he realizes his position. he has you under him, completely helpless, at the mercy of his teasing touch and his insatiable mouth as you impatiently wait for him and he suddenly feels like the luckiest man in the world. he caresses your thighs lovingly and starts to kiss your stomach, making his way up to your chest to bury his face in your sweet tits, licking and giving gentle bites to your soft skin. you whimper and squirm, quickly realizing how frustrating your little fantasy is going to be and he seems to notice.

"what is it? already giving up?" he asks and he smiles when you shake your head. "that's my girl."

he keeps kissing your body until his lips meet your own, taking your breath away with a sloppy kiss and you gasp in his mouth when you feel his knee against your pussy.

"work for it baby, show me how much you want me." he orders, his voice soft but firm and you can only obey.

swaying your hips, you start grinding against his knee, softly moaning, looking away with embarrassment when you see him looking down at you, hypnotized by the way you're moving your body.

"you're doing such a good job baby, keep going, wanna know how desperate you can get for me."

bonus:

nanami never takes breaks from work, except for your birthday. he takes you on a weekend where you both can relax and have some sweet sweet sex in a jacuzzi 🤤

༘♡ 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

you thought he was being weird as soon as you showed up in the outfit you had carefully chosen for your date at your favorite restaurant. he just looked at you from head to toe and nodded. he didn't even squeeze your ass when you walked past him and you ridiculously felt a bit sad about it. you should have known better, really.

now he's grabbing your hips with his big hands and forcing your body down onto his throbbing cock in the driver's seat in the middle of the restaurant parking lot.

"m'sorry baby, I just can't resist you, you look so fucking good in that outfit." he moans in your ear and you have to bite his shoulder to keep from screaming.

he lowers one of his hands to grab your ass and he starts thrusting inside you, his cock rubbing all the right spots, making your thighs tremble and your eyes water.

you feel his other hand threading through your hair, forcing you to look down where both of your bodies are connected.

"look at the mess you've made honey, it's all over me. does getting fucked in a car turn you on that much?" he asks and he smiles when he feels you trying to meet the cruel thrusts of his hips while looking away from the view of your pussy soaking his cock.

you whimper when he pulls at your hair, forcing your head down once again.

"answer me. does my little slut like to get off to the thought of getting caught while I'm fucking her pretty pussy?"

and despite shaking your head you can't lie to him, almost salivating at the feeling of your swollen clit rubbing against the fabric of his pants while he keeps slamming his hips against your skin.

"fuck yes! yes I like it! I like it so much!" and he laughs at your dumb voice, seeing you so cock drunk never fails to amuse him, especially when you make such shameless noises with the rear windows half open... he'll tell you later.

bonus:

this car sex session leaves you both panting, sweat sticking on your foreheads, your hair all messy and let's not even talk about the cum dripping out of you right now. so you both decide to go back home and toji orders food from the restaurant you were supposed to go to.

his redemption | 02 | bakugo x reader

synopsis ⤸

after unknowingly moving in next door to a renown gang-leader, you are thrust into a foreign world tainted by the scars of his past. will you be able to help him redeem his sins before they finally catch up to him?

chapters ⤸

៚ contents

៚ prev

themes ⤸

fem! reader, 18+, dark fic, gang au, gang-leader! bakugo, doctor! reader, one night stands, friends with benefits, unrequited feelings, mutual pining, smut, graphic depictions of violence, kidnappings, mentions of blood, dubcon

word count ⤸

6.5k

a/n ⤸

so, i had planned to get this chapter out much sooner, but i kinda had a mini hiatus (oops). but! it’s here—finally—n i really hope that it’s worth the wait, bc almost a quarter of this wc is smut, smut, smut. enjoy!

reblogs are appreciated ~

two:

you do not see nor hear any sign of bakugo for over three weeks. 

the morning after his disappearance, you’d thrown out the bedsheets—the fabric stained an ugly shade of crimson—cursing between gritted teeth all the way to the outside dumpster. but despite your grievances, the medicinal instinct that festers inside you prevents you from resisting the urge to wonder at just how well his injuries are healing. he’s just a stranger, you try your best to remember, but that doesn’t stop the way that your stare seeks out the chipped green paint that coats the surface of his apartment door when you leave for work each morning. 

since the day that you’d moved in, new neighbour denki has taken to inviting you out for drinks, enthusiastic as he insists upon the notion of the two of you getting to know each other better. neighbours should be friends too, he’d gushed. or something along those lines; you hadn’t really been listening, because at that exact moment, you could have sworn that you’d seen a flash of blonde hair out on the balcony. without warning, you’d pelted down the hallway, denki gawking after you, baffled, as you yanked the door open with an unnecessary force. 

and much to your annoyance, the balcony had been empty. 

after peering over the railing, craning your neck both left and right—just to see if he’d walked off down towards the gardens—you’d heaved an exaggerated sigh before returning to denki, shoulders slumped with disappointment. 

the blonde had scratched the back of his neck, sheepish at the look on your face, but still dared to ask, ‘so, uh, drinks? on friday?’

‘friday,’ you had relented, giving confirmation without much thought. 

and so, right now, you’re balanced upon your tiptoes to lean closer to the bathroom mirror, applying a clear lipgloss to match the thin coating of mascara that had been hurriedly brushed over your lashes just a few moments before. dressed casually, you’re not all that bothered about putting in too much effort into an outing that you’re not really in the mood for, and yet, thinking of the boyish grin that had brightened denki’s face when you’d agreed has guilt forming somewhere in the depths of your stomach. the blonde is sweet enough, from what you’ve gathered, and you definitely aren’t opposed to befriending him, so, despite your lack of enthusiasm, you check your hair and makeup one last time before shuffling out to the bedroom to slip on your heels. exhaling, you make your way out of the door, locking it shut before you click, clack your way down the hall towards denki’s door. 

you barely manage to tap your knuckles against the door once before it flies open to reveal a dark haired woman, with equally as dark eyes that narrow slightly as she greets you.

‘new neighbour, i assume,’ she stretches out a hand towards you and you accept the handshake, forcing a smile. you haven’t a clue as to who she is, and she seems to have guessed your line of thinking, as she then reveals her name, ‘i’m jiro.’ 

‘nice to meet you,’ you offer, shifting on the spot, tension locking your spine rigid. she’s still staring at you, open with her blatant show of distrust, but you’re soon freed from her scrutiny as denki suddenly appears, beaming brightly as he bounds out into the hallway. 

‘hey!’ 

lips parting to greet him, you’re smiling once more, only to clam up as soon as the blonde bounds forward, wrapping his arms around you into a tight hug that forces a stuttered, surprised laugh that is choked from out of your mouth. bewildered, you catch jiro’s gaze as she watches with a bored expression, ‘he’s had a few already,’ is all she offers. 

‘oh,’ you manage to exhale, returning denki’s hug with less vigour, patting his shoulder once, twice, before retreating from the embrace. 

‘didn’t think you were gonna come,’ he pouts, before pointing to jiro, his grin widening, ‘have you met jiro yet? she’s my friend—whose a girl. she’s my girlfriend.’ 

you’re unable to ascertain as to whether he means that literally, but still, jiro’s cheeks appear to redden at this statement and you’re unable to stop the way that your mouth tilts into a gentle smile, ‘i have, yes.’ 

‘idiot,’ jiro grumbles, shoving a hand against the small of denki’s back, pushing. ‘let’s go, else we’ll be late.’ 

denki takes off first, dragging you along with him, and on the way out, you blink towards number 34, stare lingering upon the silver-coated numbers nailed into the door’s surface as denki tugs you towards the exit. jiro is close behind, having securely locked the apartment, hands stuffed into the pockets of her hoodie as she walks at a much more leisurely pace. 

when the three of you reach the bar that is conveniently situated just down the road from where you now live, after choosing a booth that is furthest away from the entrance, you are, admittedly, grateful when you receive your choice of drink in record timing. sipping at your flavoursome cocktail, you peer around the tropical themed environment, soca music playing in the background. you’re still new to the area, so you’re unfamiliar with this particular establishment, but it doesn’t take too long for you to decide that you appreciate it, despite the crowd of people that seems to grow larger with every passing minute. 

‘so,’ denki leans a little closer, so close that you’re actually able to recognise the faint scent of alcohol on his breath, ‘how are things at the clinic?’ 

nose crinkling, you’d almost forgotten that you’d told him about your line of work. allowing your purse to slip from your shoulder and onto the seat beside you, denki watches as you relax into the plush leather of the back of the booth. ‘it’s been a long week,’ you admit, attempting a smile that you hope will hide your exhaustion. ‘a very long week.’ 

‘betcha glad to get a drink down ya,’ he grins toothily. upon glancing down at the froth-rimmed glass that’s been abandoned on the table, you see that he’s already finished his first beer, eagerly awaiting his second.

you manage a small laugh, ‘it’s very much needed.’ you notice that jiro has barely touched her drink, not really paying attention to the conversation as she stares off to the side, eyes glazed over. blinking your attention back toward denki, you take another sip of your drink, ‘what about you? how’s work for you?’ 

denki waves a hand dismissively, ‘still on probation ‘cause of my contract with the agency. i don’t see why they won’t just hire me—the kids love me already and i’m amazing.’ 

you hadn’t been at all surprised when the blonde had told you that he was aiming to be a teaching assistant in the sports department at the local primary school, during a conversation that the two of you had had when he’d politely offered to help shift the seemingly endless stack of moving boxes into your apartment. it’s just the type of job that suits him, you think, and you don’t doubt that the kids like him—hell, you’re already warming up to him. 

‘they have regulations,’ jiro reminds him, suddenly joining the conversation. ‘they can’t just ignore them just because you happen to be good at your job. you’re still learning.’ 

‘well, i’m way better than the guy they actually have,’ denki protests. ‘he’s, like, seventy and can’t kick a ball at all. what the hell does he know about football?’ you hide your smile as jiro mumbles a comment that doesn’t reach your line of hearing. but denki seems to hear, a devilish grin playing the corner of his mouth. ‘that’s not what you were saying last—’

jiro manages to silence him by aiming a particularly hard jab to the blonde’s ribcage, but denki simply explodes with a loud bark of infectious laughter, only silencing when the waiter passes by to hand out the next round of drinks. you haven’t yet finished your first, choosing to quickly down the rest of it when you see the fresh glass that jiro slides over to you. 

and for the next few hours, the three of you consume a lot more alcohol than you had initially planned. 

by the time the clock on your mobile phone reads past one am, you’re a little more than tipsy. your temples are throbbing as your cheek presses to the palm of your hand, elbow precariously balanced upon the edge of the table, and you will yourself to remain awake as you watch denki challenge jiro to a game of cards. from where they got the stack from, you don’t know, beyond out of it to bring yourself to care. 

it is halfway through their third game when you sense someone watching you. the bar is now a lot busier than it had been when you’d first arrived, now crammed with a body count that is too large to sum up; most dancing, others nursing drinks at the bar. the volume of the music is now louder, so much so that you’re even struggling to hear your companions’ voices as they bicker over their game. 

‘you’re cheatin’!’ denki slurs heavily, but you aren’t paying enough attention to ascertain the accuracy of his accusation. 

eyes glancing around the bar as thoroughly as you can manage whilst this inebriated, you recognise that you’re searching for a needle in a haystack. it’s dizzying, looking at so many faces at once, and after a just a moment, you’re about to give up, only for your gaze to suddenly land upon a familiar face. 

kirishima stares right back at you from his seat at the bar, the stool beside him, empty. 

and much to your surprise, his welcome is almost immediate, his head tilting to beckon you forth, inviting you over. you hesitate, unsure. however, you’re also drunk, and so very curious, and so, it takes all of two seconds for you to stand from your seat. 

‘where you goin’?’ denki bellows over the music. 

‘i just saw a… friend,’ you blurt quickly. ‘i’ll be back in a minute—save my seat!’ 

denki nods, looking a little hesitant to let you go, but then jiro is distracting him with a touch to his cheek and his gaze is shifting, softening as he looks at her instead. you’re grinning, deciding to take your purse with you, snatching it from the spare seat before weaving through the crowd until you reach kirishima. 

he’s still staring, you realise, reluctantly perching upon the stool next to him when he points at it. he’s drinking alone, you note, one hand wrapped around a glass of whiskey as he leans a little closer so that you can hear him speak over the music, ‘what d'you want to drink?’ 

shifting in your seat, you’re hesitating again.  you don’t know this man, and yet, you’re unable to understand why his presence comforts you so. maybe it’s the alcohol that you’ve consumed, or maybe it’s the briefest of smiles that pulls at the corner of his mouth, but without meaning to, you’re already beginning to let down your guard. 

‘a woo-woo,’ the apples of your cheeks feel warm, self-conscious of the girlish choice of drink, even more so with kirishima looking at you with an amused quirk of his brow.  

‘’m not even surprised,’ he comments, before flagging down the bartender and reciting your order. as you wait, you fish into the depths of your purse for some money, holding it out to kirishima, who immediately rejects it. ‘this one’s on me,’ he insists when you stammer a protest, going as far as pushing the money back into the palm of your hand. dejectedly, you realise that he’s not going to allow you to pay, and so you drop the money back into your purse, zipping it shut with an exaggerated sigh. the bartender returns with your cocktail and kirishima hands over a paper-note that values a lot more than what your drink costs. ‘keep the change,’ he offers, and the bartender nods once before disappearing to tend to another customer. 

taking a long sip of your drink, you welcome the familiar rush of alcohol as it warms the back of your throat, looking up to watch kirishima down the remaining dregs of his whiskey, appearing to be much more sober than you are. swallowing down another mouthful, you sit upright, pushing back a loose tendril of baby hair that tickles the nape of your neck. the exhaustion that weighs on your shoulders is heavy, only accentuated by the alcohol that buzzes a fire in your stomach, and your eyelids blink rapidly in an attempt to keep you alert. 

‘didn’t know you were pals with jiro,’ you just manage to hear the low drawl of kirishima’s voice, his form towering as he leans closer so that you can hear him better. eyes darting over to where the couple are huddled together—still engaged in their increasingly heated game of solitaire—your head tilts. he doesn’t elaborate as to how he’s acquainted with jiro. 

a shoulder raises, ‘denki is my neighbour. he invited me out for drinks.’ your words slur, the syllables dragged along with each lilt of your voice, but that doesn’t stop you from consuming more of your beverage. it was free, after all. kirishima orders another drink—beer, this time—and you are surprised, bewildered, when the bartender doesn’t charge him. they must be more than acquaintances, you conclude, despite the fact that you (wrongly) suspect kirishima as a man with few friends. the two of you drink together in a comfortable silence, and it isn’t until the clock ticks past two am that kirishima offers to walk you home. stumbling as you scramble from your stool, you make to decline, ‘i-it’s okay. i’ll walk with—’

only, when you spin to flag down denki—pretending that the motion doesn’t make your temples throb horribly—to your drunken horror, he’s nowhere in sight. and neither is jiro. 

kirishima’s hand dares to touch your elbow, tugging you to his side to prevent you from falling over. ‘i sent them home.’ 

your neck cranes as you attempt to squint up at him. baffled, you struggle to recall him committing such a feat, but, struggle, you do, because as drunk as you are, you’re certain that you haven’t seen him talking to neither denki or jiro tonight.

a large arm curling around the width of your shoulders, kirishima is already steering you towards the exit, and you are given very little choice in the matter, reluctantly allowing him to accompany you home. there’s no harm, you relent, considering the fact that he already knows where you live, the short walk home quiet, save for the click-clack of your heels upon the pavement. when the two of you come to a halt at your front door, you just remember to offer a quiet thanks, muted around the slur of your tongue.

kirishima leans against the doorframe, suppressing a bemused twitch of his lips as he watches you attempt to push your key into the lock. it takes several tries, your fingers trembling, but eventually, the lock clicks, the door inching open when you push the palm of your hand to it. but before you step inside, you loiter, pupils dilating as they focus onto kirishima once more. 

‘how is he?’ 

the redhead regards you with an expression that you can no longer read. 

you swallow thickly, eventually deciding that he’s not going to answer as several long seconds pass by without a word shared between the two of you. 

‘he’s better,’ he breaks his silence, eyes watching as you kick off your heels by the door, exhaling a moan of relief as the pads of your feet mould into the carpeted flooring. ‘told you—he’s had worse,’ he pushes his weight from the wall, making to leave. 

absentmindedly, you tug at the blossom shaped keyring that ochaco had gifted you some years ago, the charm catching the light that shines in from the hallway as it dangles from your keys. 

‘make sure he takes the tablets i gave you,’ you mumble, brows pinching together because of the headache that is beginning to throb at your temples. you press an index finger to your lips, bile rising to the back of your throat.

kirishima stares at you, hesitant, ‘you good?’ 

waving a hand, you dismiss his concern, but when he still doesn’t move, you force a smile, assuring him that you’re just fine. 

‘hm,’ he hums, eyes narrowing, dubious, as if he doesn’t believe you. but you’re already beginning to close the door on him, barely managing to remember to thank him once again for walking you home. key twisting into the lock once more, you don’t bother to check if he’s actually left, hurrying to the kitchen to pour a large glass of water in the hopes that it’ll quash the nausea that churns at your stomach. 

it’s when you’re sat on the settee, downing a third pint when a thundering knock at the door startles you so much so, that you almost spill the remainder of your drink as you rush to place the glass down onto the coffee table. forcing yourself to your feet, you press an index finger to the bridge of your nose, and the ache that throbs there is now muted, but still very much present. marginally sobered by the consumption of water, you’re able to make your way down the hall, unlocking the door with ease this time, allowing it swing open. only, the face that greets you is one that has your brows twitching upwards, surprised.

bakugo leans against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest as he peers down at you, watching as you stare right back, unsure of how to greet him. kirishima had been right; the blonde looks miles better than he had when you’d last seen him. his eyes are heavily lidded, idle as they drag along the length of your body, pausing upon the stretch of your legs as he takes in your lack of attire, and you think that you can vaguely remember managing to pull your jeans off not long after you’d finished the first pint of water. 

clad in just an oversized jumper, you squirm under his stare, thighs pressing together just as your arms raise to cross over your chest. 

‘shitty hair said you were drunk,’ bakugo drawls, breaking the silence. the low baritone of his voice travels through your ears and settles right into the pit of your stomach. grimacing, you avoid his gaze, pointedly focusing on the fact that he refers to kirishima as ‘shitty hair’. 

licking at your dry lips, your toes buried into the carpet, you fail to notice the flick of bakugo’s eyes focusing on the shape of your mouth, your own trained in on his abdomen, where his t-shirt hides the injury that you’d stitched just a few weeks ago. 

‘can i check it?’ 

his spine is already straightening, making to follow you inside with an eager step forward just as you stumble backwards. quicker than you can process, his hand darts out, the width of his palm curling around your arm, steadying your balance in order to prevent your fall. the heat of his hand is scorching, rivalled only by the warmth that burns beneath the surface of your skin, your cheeks burning. murmuring a thanks, you tug yourself free from his grasp, shifting to the side to allow him to pass. he glides past you easily, already disappearing down the small hallway and toward the bedroom, leaving you to lock the door, where you lean against it as you gather your resolve.

what are you doing? 

you try to focus on the fact that he’s a stranger—god damn it—hesitating with your fingers curling around the hem of your jumper. blinking in the direction of the bedroom, you debate on as to whether you should just kick him out and demand that he gets himself checked at the hospital instead. but you’re no fool. even in your drunken state, you have enough wit about you to understand that that stab wound was no accident. someone had hurt him, deliberately, and because he’d been so stubbornly adamant on no hospitals when you had suggested it the first time, it’s hard to not jump to conclusions. still, you can’t stop yourself from suspecting that his lifestyle isn’t entirely on the legal side, especially if his scars are anything to go by. 

no, you decide. for a reason that you dare not dwell on, for now, his treatment is your responsibility.

and so, you wobble on the tips of your toes as you reach to grab the first aid kit from the kitchen cupboard, swallowing thickly as you shuffle your way into the bedroom. to your surprise, bakugo is already sat the end of the bed, his shirt scrunched beneath the fingers of his left hand, and you will your gaze away from the expanse of his tanned chest, temples throbbing as you move to switch the bedroom lamp on, shifting to kneel before him. 

the heat of his stare is molten, lids heavy as he regards you with an expression that you can’t decipher with your head spinning like this. your hands shake as you reach for the makeshift bandage that either he—or kirishima—has wrapped around the sharp lines of his torso, gently peeling it from his skin with an apprehensive crinkle of your nose. pleased to see that your stitches are still in place, you hum as you lean a tad closer to inspect the wound, the caress of your breath tickling the cut of his muscles. it’s scabbing nicely, you note, using your thumb to gently press around the wound, pausing when his abs constrict, a low grunt huffed out over the top of your head.

‘sorry,’ you mumble, turning your attention to the first aid kit. mind still fuzzy with intoxication, you’re a little slow with opening it, squinting as you busy yourself with cleaning around the wound before applying a fresh bandage—much neater than his own, if not a tad wonky due to your inebriation. ‘’s healing perfectly,’ you tell him, voice quiet. 

his next inhale is sharp, twisted around the shape of a soundless snarl as you press against a particularly sore spot, making sure the bandage is fixed in place. ‘great,’ he spits, glaring. 

‘if you want,’ you start, clearing your throat when your words begin to slur once again. ‘i can check it again next week… the stitches should have fallen out by then, but, uh, just in case…?’ 

‘’kay,’ is all he replies with, grabbing at the fabric of his shirt. he’s yet to make a move to put it back on, watching you pack the first aid kit away with sluggish movements. 

‘okay?’ you repeat, bleary eyed as you focus your stare upon his face; you hadn’t expected him to actually agree. 

the corner of his mouth twitches, and again, you’re subjected to a heat that prickles the back of your neck, the reds of his eyes narrowing as they focus on the nervous bob of your throat. ‘so,’ he grunts, expression morphing into one that is less friendly. ‘i still owe you.’ 

you frown, ‘don’t want you to owe me.’ it then occurs to you that you’re still knelt before him, and for a moment, it feels as if your headache is worsening, your index finger massaging at your temple. ‘i did it because i wanted to.’ 

that, and it’s hard to say no to someone who is bleeding all over your bed, you daren’t add. 

it is bakugo’s brows that form a frown this time. 

‘i don’t like owin’ people,’ he insists. he shifts on the mattress, as if ready to stand, only to stiffen when he also clocks onto the fact that you’re still knelt before him. ‘what’s your price?’ 

your eyes flicker a little lower, focusing on the shape of his mouth before you blink, vision a tad hazy, your cheeks warm.  ‘nothing.’

‘people don’t do anythin’—‘specially not savin’ someone’s life—for free,’ he argues, eyes hard, jaw wound tight. ‘tell me what you want in return.’ 

you can feel the beginnings of annoyance prickling at your nerves, fists clenching where they rest on your bare thighs. you suddenly feel a lot more sober. ‘i’m a doctor, which you already know—how do you know that, by the way?—saving lives is kinda what i do.’ 

he dodges your question, nostrils flaring as he demands, ‘tell me what you want.’

again, your gaze is slipping lower, blinking towards his lips once more, before your eyes snap upwards, focusing on his. and much to your surprise, the reds of his irises have darkened to a burning crimson that has the depths of your stomach knotting with something akin to molten lava. or so you think—maybe the alcohol is warping your ability to read expressions?

but apparently not, because now he’s leaning forward, the length of his spine curling as his ribs shift to accommodate his position. stupefied, you watch as he looms over you, the width of his thighs shifting—parting, you note with a dry swallow—and he’s so close that you can hear each inward drag of his breath as he inhales, lungs wheezing with the effort. 

intoxication has your pupils dilating, the blackened orbs widening as his fingers twitch, his breath fanning across the slope of your cheek as he repeats, the low drag of his voice catching on the rise of a barely concealed groan, ‘tell me what you want.’ 

and then, before you can process what you’re actually doing—because, really, what the hell are you doing?—your hands are reaching up, the tips of your fingers brushing against his skin as they dance along the length of his jaw. you’re hesitating, however, hands frozen where they rest upon his cheeks, appalled by the audacity of your own actions. you make to pull away, but before you’re given the chance to regret what you’ve done, his hands come to hold yours in place, the lengths of his fingers calloused and ridiculously hot against the backs of your own. unblinking, his eyes bore into yours as he slowly guides your hands down his face, tracing along the length of his neck, allowing you to feel the thump, thump, thump of his pulse beneath the pads of your fingers. 

up close, you dare to trace your thumb over the plush of his bottom lip, ignoring the jump of your heart when the corner of his mouth curls upwards, the stretch of his mouth forming into the shape of a smirk. your fingertips trace the annoyingly perfect ridge of his nose, brushing over his cheekbones until you press against the beauty mark on his chin, so minuscule that you’d’ve missed it if not for the fact that he’s encouraging the exploration of your touch as he leans a little closer. 

maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe it’s just because he’s stupidly, ridiculously, unfairly beautiful, but your gaze is awed, welcoming the wiggle of his fingers curling into the strands of your hair. he pulls, the length of your neck exposed as it stretches to follow the way that he forces your head back, his own lowering until his mouth hovers just centimetres from yours. his gaze is smouldering as he studies you, licking his bottom lip at the sight of your hair wrapped around his fingers, your eyes heavily lidded—with intoxication or lust, he cannot tell. 

‘tell me what you want,’ he murmurs, breath ghosting over your lips. he feels the way that you tremble against him and he shifts closer, trapping you between the broad stretch of his thighs.  

your hands are stroking over his collarbones, his eyes closing briefly at the sensation of your skin tickling his. still kneeling, you have to stretch to reach for his shoulders, your arms curling around the back of his neck, fingernails scraping against his scalp as you pull him closer. 

‘you.’

he immediately complies, mouth moulding to yours, hot and wet and feverous. the taste of him is overwhelming, dizzying, the glide of his tongue urgent as it explores the shape of your mouth, your toes curling into the carpet as he does so. the crooks of your fingers gripping his hair, twisting until he’s groaning, the blunts of his teeth dragging over your bottom lip, nipping until you’re gasping along with him.

you know that you’ll probably regret this in the morning, but all second thoughts are thrown out of the window as he reaches for you, hands suddenly grasping at your waist and hoisting you—with an ease that makes your head spin—up, up, up, until you’ve joined him on the bed, legs curling around his waist. kissing you until you’re struggling for breath, his fingers are sneaking beneath the hem of your jumper, a groan rumbling from the back of his throat as one hand grips you with an impressive strength, the other skimming against your stomach, all knuckles and wide palms. his fingertips reach to trace the curve of your breast, and the steady pace of your kiss now falters when you pause to gasp into the sharp jut of his jaw. 

you thank the gods for your intuitive decision to forgo a bra this evening, keening as his thumb—wetted by a quick swipe of his tongue—brushes over the peak of your nipple, pinching until you grace him with another breathy sigh that pitches when his teeth drag over the pulse at your throat. you know that it’ll bruise, and still, you encourage him with an experimental roll of your hips, your clothed pussy seeking a friction that can only be sated by the bulge that is rapidly hardening with each brush of your groin to his. grunting, there’s a perspiration that is forming on the nape of his neck, one that is ignored in favour of him rolling your nipple between his thumb and index finger, tongue expertly tracing circles down to the length of your collarbone, his hair tickling at your nose. you’re stifling a giggle, abdomen tensing and your tits bouncing as he huffs, feigning annoyance as he grumbles something about you ruining the mood whilst hiding his widening grin with a press to your sternum. his lips seek yours again, his fingers ghosting over the dip of your waist, and your breath catches on a moan when his hips jut, rolling, teasing. 

the palms of his hands splay themselves over the curve of your rear, encouraging the slow grind that has your thighs clenching with the effort. beneath you, his breath stutters, a short, strained groan punched from the bottom of his stomach, one that vibrates the bump of his adam’s apple as he tugs you up and down his pulsing length, his cock burning a ferocious heat through the cotton of his sweatpants. the drag of your pussy is one that has his blood humming, one that entices a pitched mewl—which he swallows down greedily, selfishly—his tongue tracing yours, bare chest warming yours as he reaches to tear your woollen jumper up and over your head. 

unceremoniously, it’s discarded upon the floor, and he’s fumbling for the tie on his sweatpants, shoving them down just enough so that you now feel the naked inferno of his cock, insistently pressing against the crook of your thigh. stomach coiling with excitement, your lungs expand and contract, struggling to suck in air fast enough, and struggling further so when he’s tonguing at the roof of your mouth like that. there’s a gentle stroke across your hip, his knuckles bumping along your inner thigh as impatience has him roughly tugging your underwear to the side. nerves have you tensing at the first touch, his index and middle fingers slipping between your velvety folds, delving into the pool of sap that drools from the very hole that he seeks. your legs tighten around his waist, aware enough as to not bump against his bandage as you adjust your knees, and that’s when you realise that he’s watching your face closely, your eyelids fluttering when the width of his fingers breach the opening of your pussy, gummy walls contracting around the bump of his knuckles that gently twist inside you. 

desperate, you cry out against his mouth, his teeth tugging at your bottom lip once more, your nails biting into the corded muscles of his biceps. it isn’t long until his fingers are withdrawing, your hips chasing after them, a whinge of protest spilling out of your mouth before you can muffle it. he’s chuckling breathily, deeply, breath hot on the shell of your ear. 

‘patience.’ 

and you don’t have to be patient for long. he’s guiding the length of his cock past the tight stretch of your cunt in one long thrust, his eyes screwing shut as he hilts, balls pressed tight to the plump of your rear, a chest-heaving groan expelled down the canal of your eardrum. the tickle of his public hair brushes over your clit, your toes curling just so, and hunger has your hips rolling, seeking friction. 

‘f-fuck,’ bakugo grunts, sweat trickling down his jaw as he inhales a stuttered breath. he withdraws slowly, testing the tremble of your thighs, before his hips cant upwards, harder, faster with each stroke. 

he sets a brutal pace, his grip bruising as he fucks into your dribbling heat over and over and over, and above him, you moan loudly, able to do very little other than cling on, fingers scrambling to find leverage upon his shoulders. he crushes your mouths together, tongue rapidly seeking yours as you attempt to keep up with his kisses, dizzied with the scent of him; addicted to the taste of him. the two of you are a tangle of limbs upon the bed, the room beginning to ooze with the stench of your alcohol-infused act, his name repeatedly slurred past your lips as your pussy secretes a mess that aids the wet schlick, schlick, schlick of his balls slapping against the round of your behind. your skin is damp—sticky—with the tantalising sap that seeps from the fluttering walls of your cunt, creaming a mess around the width of his slick-coated girth, and this only seems to spear him on, the slick sound of your connection accentuated with each rough drag of his hips as he drills into the pulsing heat of your cunt at such a pace that you struggle to catch your breath. 

abruptly, he stills, cock buried within the cushioning of your inner walls, the scratch of his pubic hair grinding over your clit—just right there—encouraging the sudden snapping of the coil in your stomach. nails digging into the meat of his shoulders, your tone pitches, keening on the syllables of bakugo’s name, your toes curling where your legs are crossed behind his back. your legs tremble as he fuck, fuck, fucks you through your climax, groaning as your juices aid the slip-and-slide of his cock drilling in tune to the flutter of your gummy walls that tighten around his base with a cheek-warming squelch. the sensation is addictive, even with the trickle of cream that is pooling a mess all over his balls, and it’s almost with regret when he can feel the tell-tale electric bite that jolts deep in his abdomen, a sharp warning of his fast-approaching peak. 

he shifts to lie flat on his back, dragging you along with him with a choked moan when your fingers knot into the tresses of his hair, pulling. the curves of his muscles bulge, biceps tensing as he shifts you higher upon his lap, both of his arms encircling the circumference of your waist in order to hold you in place as his pace becomes sloppier with his yearning need to come undone. 

clit thrumming with oversensitivity, you breathe a whimper into the warmth of his neck, suckling at the sweat-dampened skin as his cock repeatedly pistons its way past the aching opening of your cunt, the new angle coaxing a sharp cry against his collarbone. he exclaims something utterly guttural in reply—a groan, or a growl, you can’t decipher—evidence of his own bliss spilling past his lips as he chases his own climax. it doesn’t take much longer, his hips slick with sweat as he comes undone with a bellow, his seed finally claiming home inside the snug curve of your cunny, painting the plush of your cervix white. he’s loud, gasping and choking in between a series of growls that serve to encourage the weak throb that pulses between your legs, thrusting once, twice, thrice, until his hips falter, prick beginning to soften until it finally slips free from the safety of your cunt. there’s a gush, followed by a tacky, drooling web of opalescent that oozes from between your folds, the puffy shape of your pussy now swollen with arousal as it clenches, releasing another seepage of semen that dribbles a path onto the mattress, leaving a sticky, glistening mess in its wake. fighting to catch his breath, his grip tightens, his fingers splayed as his palm strokes over the length of your spine.

spent, his head rests, the apple of his cheek pressed to your shoulder, panting as his fingers rake over your sweat-drenched hair. your weight is slumped atop him, weak-kneed and breathless, and there, the two of you remain, embracing until the tempo of your pulse dwindles into a pace that doesn’t make your head spin. it is you who moves first, detangling your limbs from his and standing upon trembling legs when you rise from the bed. he seems reluctant as he allows you to withdraw, fingertips brushing over the dip of your back before you step out of reach, his eyes narrowing in on the way that the muscles of your thighs protest, aching as you both begin to fix your clothing back in place. 

a short while later, you’re guiding him to the door, hyperaware of the weight of his stare that lingers on the blemishes that litter your throat. the door is unlocked with a click! and you’re expecting him to make his escape immediately. however, to your surprise, he’s leaning closer, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth, before moulding his lips to yours, greedily tasting the inside of your cheeks yet again. his thumb soothes a calloused path down the slope of your chin, fiery irises burning into the depths of yours before he tears himself from the comfort of you, sauntering down the hall towards the exit, not looking back. you loiter by the doorway, watching until his head ducks, disappearing from your line of sight, before you retreat into the safety of your apartment, legs quivering as you slowly make your way back to your bed. 

you awake the next morning, regretful, his mark tainting your skin. 

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