This Is A Lovely Poem I Will Keep Inside Me For The Rest Of My Life 🕊️

This is a lovely poem I will keep inside me for the rest of my life 🕊️

☆ COVER UP — Tattoo Artist!GETO SUGURU
☆ COVER UP — Tattoo Artist!GETO SUGURU

☆ COVER UP — tattoo artist!GETO SUGURU

summary: all you wanted was a cover up tattoo to replace the name your ex left on you. you didn't think you'd be leaving the tattoo shop with a replacement for your ex's tattoo and a replacement for him as well.

wc: 3k

cw: afab!reader, geto gives you backshots, he's kinda obsessed w/ your ass here, unprotected sex (since I forget condoms) BUT he's a gentleman pulls out </3 your kinda a meanie. he's kinda a meanie so light angst (?) but barely. MDNI

an: haven't posted a longer work in a hot minute, but here is how you meet tattoo artist boyfriend!geto soooo give this one a chance big fanks to my lil twat @kazushawty for helping me out and reading bits of it.

☆ COVER UP — Tattoo Artist!GETO SUGURU

as you push open the heavy glass door of ‘cursed ink studios,’ a subtle bell chimes softly, announcing your presence. instantly, the atmosphere inside crackles with an electric charge. the air is thick with the intoxicating scent of ink, mingling with the sterile bite of antiseptic. the walls are adorned with vivid flash art form a chaotic tapestry, while the rhythmic hum of a tattoo gun echoes through the room.

and there he is, geto suguru – a tall, enigmatic figure with jet-black hair and sleeves of mesmerising tattoos that seem to tell stories of their own. he sits at his workbench, surrounded by an array of ink bottles and tattoo machines, his piercing eyes never leaving the art he's creating. a carefully curated playlist of music plays softly in the background, punctuated by the occasional buzzing of the tattoo gun.

he glances up from his intricate work as you enter, his gaze slowly travelling up and down your form. there's a hint of curiosity in his eyes, as though he's wondering why you, of all people, have ventured into his sacred space. his expression, however, suggests that he's far from thrilled about the interruption.

"need something?" he asks, his irritation evident.

"i need a cover-up” you swallow your nerves, holding your head high, your voice steady, ”my ex's name."

geto raises an eyebrow, seemingly unimpressed by your request. "ex's name, huh? you people never learn."

your jaw clenches at his condescending tone. "well, i'm here now, so can you do it or not?"

he continues to scrutinise you, his gaze feeling like a judgmental weight. finally, he nods, albeit reluctantly. "fine, show me."

with a sigh of resignation, you turn around, your heart pounding as you pull down the waistband of your jeans just enough to reveal the offending name covering your left ass cheek. it's a constant reminder of a relationship gone wrong, and you're more than ready to be rid of it.

"this won't be easy," he mutters, his fingers cool against your skin as he traces the outline of the name. his touch lingers, just a little too long, sending an unexpected shiver down your spine. his fingers, skilled and confident, continued to trace the inked letters of your ex's name on your skin — almost toyingly. and you could feel the chill of the tattoo parlour's air-conditioning contrasted by the warmth of his touch.

his voice, though still gruff, held a trace of disgust "who did this?" he asks, not looking up from the tattoo.

you hesitate, your memories of that past relationship flooding back. "my ex-boyfriend," you reply tersely.

geto's fingers stop their tracing, and he lets out a low, almost imperceptible sigh. "you let your boyfriend do a shitty tattoo on you, and you let him make it his name," he mutters, more to himself than to you. "you practically let him brand you."

“is it your job to be such a bitchy artist?” you snap, already fed up by his comments. you’ve heard it from your parents, your friends, ever since you got that trashy tattoo. but couldn't disagree with that sentiment — you knew it was a shit tattoo. “i thought i was paying you for your artistry, not your smart mouth.”

"listen," he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "you walk in here with that god awful mess on your skin, and you've got the nerve to criticise my attitude? if you want to be rid of it, you'll do well to keep that attitude in check, sweetheart."

you bite back a retort, realising that you've indeed crossed a line with your comment. there's a palpable tension in the air now, a simmering anger beneath the surface, and it seems that geto has no intention of backing down.

with a deep breath, you swallow your pride and offer a reluctant apology. "i'm sorry," you mutter, a touch of remorse in your voice. "i shouldn't have snapped at you."

he continues to hold your gaze for a moment, his expression still stern, before finally nodding. "apology accepted."

you didn’t actually have an idea of what you wanted for the cover up, you just knew you needed it gone. geto was a highly sought out cover artist so you had no doubt that he’d be able to do you good. with your initial meeting being heated, you thought it was best to leave him to do his thing.

with a sense of relief that the confrontation has subsided, you decide to give geto some space to work his magic. "i'll leave you to it," you say, your voice quieter now, and you turn away from him.

"good," he mutters, his focus fully on his ipad as he starts to sketch, not even looking as you leave the shop. 

geto usually was quick to draw up tattoo sketches for clients, but when it came to you he was stunned — too busy thinking about how your ass looked rather than what he was meant to tattoo on it. from the moment you stepped in his shop, he was intrigued, you didn’t see the type to get work done by him and the marking stretched on your ass didn’t seem like it would belong to someone with an attitude like yours. 

his mind was anything but focused on the design. he couldn't help but replay the encounter with you in his thoughts, your brashness and the way you'd stood your ground, even under his scrutiny.

"why the hell did she get that shitty tattoo?" he mutters to himself, his fingers deftly working his pen. the sketch was beginning to take shape, but his mind kept drifting back to the curve of your ass. he couldn't deny the attraction he felt, and it frustrated him. he was supposed to be a professional, detached from his clients beyond the art he created on their skin. but something about you had thrown him off balance.

“so you ready to get this tatted on you?” is the first thing he asks when you return the following day. you inspect his sketches in awe, of course you never doubted his talent but you didn’t think he’d be able to draw something you wanted without you even having to say.

“well it seems you do live up to your reputation,” you comment with a neutral facade, but you both know that you were downplaying your excitement — you were pleased. and like with any client, that made geto satisfied that he was doing his job correctly. but when he saw the way your eyes lit up when he initially showed you the sketches, it was a sight he wanted to see again. “i guess we can start the tattoo.”

“okay i’ll get my stuff set up, get rid of those,” he says nodding towards your jeans, “and lay down when you’re ready.” you slip yourself out of your bottoms, leaving the itty bitty thong that you knew you’d need for the appointment and that a small part of you hoped he liked.

he pauses when he sees you laying down on the seat in his station, your head resting in your arms, your ass slightly raised.  ‘this is gonna be a long session,’ he thinks to himself as he smirks, shaking his head as he works his way to his seat.

as he sits down, he places the stencil over your ass, and you berate yourself for getting giddy at the feeling of him rubbing over the design to make sure it was in place — wishing that his hand stayed for longer. 

“how are you with pain?” he asks, and from the way you were laying you weren’t able to see the way he was gawping at your ass.

“what type of pain?” you retort.

“y’know the type of pain where someones drilling into your ass for hours,” he comments as if it’s obvious but you both knew his words were hinting at more than just the tattoo.

“choice words there,” you muse, “but any type of pain i’m alright with, so give me your best.”

geto's needle hovers just above your skin, poised for action. "you sure about that?" he murmurs, his voice low and suggestive.

a coy smile tugs at your lips as you respond, "I can handle it if you can."

with a deliberate, almost tantalising slowness, he lowers the needle to your skin. the first touch is a sharp, stinging sensation, but you refuse to flinch. you're determined to hold your own, to meet geto's challenge head-on.

he continues to work, the needle dancing across your skin with a practised precision. the room is filled with the rhythmic sound of the tattoo machine, creating a hypnotic backdrop to your growing tension.

as minutes turn into hours, you find yourself lost in a strange mixture of pleasure and pain. the pain is undeniable, but there's something oddly exhilarating about it. you steal a glance at geto, his intense focus on his work, and you can't help but wonder if he's enjoying this as much as you are.

"still doing okay?" he asks, his tone a mix of concern and something more primal.

you bite your lower lip, suppressing a moan that threatens to escape. "i told you, i can handle it."

geto smirks, his gaze locked on your ass as he continues to tattoo. "you've got quite the threshold for pain. impressive."

“is it really? i'm sure you’ve worked on a lot of other clients with higher thresholds for pain.”

“but none of them have had an ass like yours though,” he mumbles to himself — but you hear him loud and clear, a grin forming on your face at the confession. “anyways, we’re all done now, go ahead and look in the mirror.”

you stand in the full length mirror, your head slightly turned at an angle as you gawp at your ass. your eyes widen seeing what was once your shitty exes name, now turned into a piece of true art. 

“so what d’you think?” he asks, and you didn’t even notice him coming to stand behind you until you felt his breath on the back of your neck, “this shit is hot right?”

“you can say that again,” you agree, keeping your eyes focused on the tattoo, trying to ignore the quickening of your heart beat at the presence of him, “this is really great though, like i couldn’t imagine my ass could look this good after having that tattooed on on it all his time.”

“well no need to imagine anymore,” geto’s face forms a smiling grin, you can tell he was admiring way more than just his artwork, “you mind if i take a picture… for my instagram?” he says, barely asking as his phone is already out of his pocket and is in his hands, he looks up at you for permission and you give a slight nod before he’s snapping away at your ass.

“are you sure this is for your instagram,” you tease, as he continues to take photos crouched down, as he circles your ass with his phone, “or is this just for your personal wank bank?”

“would you like it to be?” he retorts back swiftly, there wasn’t even any mischief in his eyes as he looks up at you, just pure lust.

“um i–” you stutter, only now feeling exposed — as if he hadn’t been working on your ass already for the past six hours.

“don’t get shy on me now,” he coos, standing up to face you head on, “y’gonna let me finish off making you forget that ex or yours or what?”

“be my guest,” you respond, trying to come across as nonchalant, but the eager look in your eyes gave geto all he needed to know. 

he pushes you softly, as he commands, “hands against the mirror and spread your legs.” and you do just that, as he comes behind you, fitting in between your legs perfectly. his hand forces ur back down, deeping the arch of your spine before both of his hands grab onto your ass.

geto really rubs and digs his thumbs into your cheeks, biting his lip at the sight at the way his fingers mould into your ass. “fuckk man,” he groans out, he’s not even in you yet and he was already obsessed with every inch of you. 

he frees his dick from his pants, and pumps it quickly before sliding it across your already gushing slit. you hiss at the contact, a pleased smile working its way on your face as the tip of his dick edges into you.

“s-shit,” you stammer, as he inches himself into you deeper, “w-what about the rest of the shop?”

“what about them?” he shrugs, “you don’t want them to hear naught you’re being right now? HEY GUYS—”

“oi,” you hiss out, your eyes widening as you turn your head to look directly at him.

“i’m just playing, i’m not ready to share you quite just yet,” he retorts, his dick moving in you at an achingly slow pace, “now, keep your eyes focused on the mirror, and you better not let those hands slip.”

before you can respond, he thrust his hips into you as deep as he could, his dick slamming into you. you moan out at the surprising force, trying your best to keep your palms flat on the surface of the mirror, as you stare straight at him — watching how he works his hands from your ass to your hips so he can drive into you with all of his force. 

“this pussy is s-so fucking good,” he praises, the sloppiness of your cunt making it easy for him to slide his dick in and out of you. “oh and this ass,” he continues giving a hard spank on your ass cheek, to emphasise his point, “c’mon throw your ass back on my dick, i wanna see it bounce.”

you fuck him back, doing exactly as he says, your ass meeting his hips with the same amount of force. his spanks encourage you to be quicker, to give him everything he wants. his repeating, strong strokes, have you feeling weaker, your hands slipping as you try to stay up right, when all you want to do is collapse and cum everywhere. 

“f-fuckk it’s too much,” you whine, as he drills into you.

“nah,” he says, shrugging his head, “it’s not enough,” he lifts up his legs, his digits pressing into your deeper, as he now angles his strokes even further into your pussy, hitting your spot with ease. “give it to me harder, i know you can” he encourages, another two swift spanks landing on your ass.

with his continuous contact of your ass and his hips, and the way his dick pushes into you deeper, you felt like you were splitting in two. but you kept going, thinking back to your earlier conversation, you didn’t want to prove him wrong, you wanted to show him that you can handle it, handle him.

geto was practically beaming, licking his lips feverishly at the sight of your fucked out face through the mirror as he watches himself plough into you, your body rocking forward with every thrust. his eyes concentrate on your ass, as he says, “d’you see how your rocking my work on you now?” and you nod dumbly, too busy trying to reach your climax to string a sentence together, “so fuck that ex of yours and his shitty ass tattooing, from now on you only can me on your body, you got that?” he asks and you nod again, but he shakes his head, his hand moving from your waist to your chin as he grips it making your eyes stay locked on his through the mirror, “i said do you got that?”

“ahhh s-shit yet i do, i do,” you say, mirroring his words, “i will only have you on my body, ‘promise.”

“good girl,” he approves, giving your chin a squeeze before letting go, “now cum.” 

with those simple words, you release all over him, your stance getting weaker, as you shoot out cum all over his dick. he’s quick to pull out of you though, stroking his dick as he sprays his cum all over your ass, with a deep groan.

your hands are still on the wall, as you take deep breaths, trying to recollect yourself. but you turn around swiftly seeing a flash of a camera behind you, and geto is back to crouching down, with his phone out, taking pictures of your cum covered ass.

“you mind if i keep these in my wank bank forreal this time?” he asks, smirking as you nod, “i’ll take some more later, but i got two questions to ask.”

“and those are…” you say, prompting him to continue.

“first, let me take you out after this?” he asks with a smirk, already knowing the answer. after the way he just dicked you down, you’d be a fool not to let him wine and dine you, “second, y’gonna come suffocate my face with that ass of yours or not?” you couldn’t even answer the second question since he’s pulling you down to the floor with him, with a joyous grin on his face.

☆ COVER UP — Tattoo Artist!GETO SUGURU

AN: IGNORE THE FACT THAT HE CUMS ALL OVER UR FRESH TATTOO. LIKE JUST IGNORE IT. just focus on the fact that you have a lovely ass and geto loves it too. but yes do you want to see more, I HAVE ENOUGH IDEAS TO EVEN MAKE A LIL MASTERLIST FOR IT. I love tattoo artist boyfriend!geto so so much, like when u guys become an established relationship it actually gets so good. BUT I DONT REALLY LIKE THIS ONE, BUT IF U GUYS FW IT I PROMISE ILL ACTUALLY WRITE AND POST THE ONES I LOVE. BUT I FELT LIKE I HAD TO WRITE THIS FIRST SO YOU COULD SEE HOW U AND GETO STARTED. LMK UR THOUGHTS

More Posts from Candyeyedoll and Others

1 year ago

I know Armin hands look like this…

I Know Armin Hands Look Like This…
I Know Armin Hands Look Like This…
I Know Armin Hands Look Like This…
I Know Armin Hands Look Like This…

Imagine him nervously fidgeting with them, concentrated while playing with his own fingers.

Slim but strong, masculine but soft. Not exaggerated at all. With tedious nails.

He is so cute I’m IN LOVE.


Tags
1 year ago

pure filth (izuku x reader)

summary: a very nsfw but short one-shot of you and your darling boyfriend, izuku.

warnings: unprotected sex, izuku cursing! :o

masterlist

Pure Filth (izuku X Reader)

there’s nowhere else izuku would rather be than squished in between your plush thighs. when you’re squeezing around him and he’ll have to hold them apart. all he can think of is how beautiful you look and how incredible you taste. he knows you feel just as good too, your thighs are beginning to shake and you’re crying out for him loudly.

“fuck, izuku. right there, please!”

he grins mischievously at the thought of you squirming in embarrassment in the morning when he’ll remind you how beautiful and lewd you sounded for him. and it drives him insane that only he can see you, and make you feel like this.

you remember the first time he fucked you. he was so shy and nervous, but he was perfect. izuku only cared about making you feel good and not hurting you. he spent an hour or so strictly on foreplay, wanting to learn what felt good for you on his own. he was so nervous afterwards too, ashamed he had finished just from eating you out and grinding into the mattress.

but now he’s different. your beautifully strong and resilient pro-hero boyfriend, izuku midoriya. the man who single-handedly saved japan and has his name plastered on tabloids everywhere. and, lord, has the hero work payed off well for him… you’re in awe every-time that man takes his damn shirt off. but somehow, amongst all the fame and recognition, he only has eyes for you. he doesn’t want anybody else but his angel y/n.

sometimes he will come home, adrenaline still pumping through his veins. he’ll have been thinking of you ever since hero work ended - more specifically bending you over and fucking you into oblivion. he’ll be so hard already just from the mere thought of your beautiful face and your perfect pussy. you’re always so tight and wet for him, it drives him absolutely insane.

izuku has his fingers pumping in and out of you, hitting the exact spot you wanted over and over. you’re so wet his fast motions make the most lewd squelching sound, but he’s eating it up. he can’t take his eyes off you, and he knows you would shyly push him away if you noticed. but on some days, you’ll lock your eyes with him and it feels so beautifully intimate.

“ah… shit, y/n. you look so pretty.”

“izu, please. please fuck me already,” you’re eyes begin to tear from the pleasure. there it is. you and izuku make direct eye contact as he begins to suck at your clit again, making you cry out. “i need you, izuku. please!”

he can feel your walls tightening around his fingers. as much as izuku knows you’ll be coming soon, he also knows it’ll feel even more incredible on his cock. “how could i not give my pretty baby what they want?”

he’s kissing you slowly again whilst pushing your legs apart, now holding your hips firmly. izuku lets his cock sink into you, letting out a moan into your mouth and tightening his grip on you.

“good, baby?”

you hum in approval, walls already clenching around him desperately. he always gives you a few seconds to adjust, even when you’re squirming impatiently under him like this. it’s almost as if he loves teasing you and hearing you beg for him.

how does izuku managed to keep so much stamina for his demanding job, and keeping you so satisfied? your impatience is long forgotten as he begins to fuck you roughly. his ironclad grip on you keeping you in place so he can fuck into you over and over again, as if he’s just using your pretty cunt to get himself off. but then he gives you the kindest, sweetest dirty talk you could hear because he’s your loving izuku. he’ll tell you how gorgeous you look, how you fit around him so perfectly as if your pussy was made for him. he’ll give you the softest and most amorous kiss while pounding into you recklessly. but he knows you can take it, because you’re his good girl. his angel.

“my baby. i love you so much, y/n,” izuku says, eyes never leaving yours. “you’re perfect, every part of you.”

and that’s how you truly feel. you feel so loved and taken care of. especially when he’s coming inches deep into you, crying out your name. then watching his thick cum leak out of you.

Pure Filth (izuku X Reader)

my sex drive is out of whack i haven’t done it in like three months so i am shocked i wrote this

4 months ago

3rd Row, By The Window

3rd Row, By The Window

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Pairings: Armin Arlert x Fem Reader

Summary: You ask Armin to help you study, with a happy little accident your relationship evolves into more than just friends.

Warnings: Heavy smut, making out, thigh gripping, dry humping, thigh grinding, slight tit play, palming, fingering, PnV sex, virgin! Reader and Armin, desk fucking, soft dom Armin, creampie, use of nicknames (Angel, good girl, slut, etc), slight overstimulation, mating press, size difference, raw sex, aftercare, teasing (from eren the next day).

Word count: 6053

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Sunlight illuminated the golden locks of the boy sitting in the third row, next to the window. His gaze was trained on your professor as the words began to topple over one another, his pen scribbling down any coherent information that escaped his chapped lips. Something you had long given up on, not a soul tried or even liked Mr Haas’ class, except for Armin Arlert, forever the goody too shoes striving to be better than the rest. The type to raise his hand about handing in homework while the rest groan in agony, which safe to say doesn’t make him the most likeable character among your peers. Yet something about him made your heart beat one pace faster, palms clammy, and head light. Which is why today is the day you ask for some ‘help’ with his expertise in tutoring.

With your supplies readily packed within the constraints of your school bag, you anxiously anticipated the minute the clock struck the conclusion of the lesson. Strumming your fingers on the desk you looked up to the worn clock on the wall, never failing to be exactly 1 minute behind the rest. The two hands met and this was your cue to go, you swiftly stood up from your seat, pushing it under the desk before letting your legs mindlessly take you to where Armin was still packing away his materials from class. The confident air you once adorned soon vanished when you saw his head poke up to meet you with those intimidatingly blue eyes.

“Oh hi (name)!” Armin chimed, a bashful smile playing along his rosy lips. You were surprised he even recalled your name, you’ve only ever spoken to him what, 2 maybe 3 times? Averting your gaze from his piercing one to look at the fidgeting of your thumbs, you gained the courage to speak, “Uh hey Armin…” He cocked his head to the side, stepping closer to you after he’d slew his weighted bag over his shoulder. “What um, brings you here to talk to me all of a sudden?” He chuckled. You captured all the air you could manage in one breath, finally regaining your composure to look back into his eyes. “I know this is sort of out of the blue but you’re probably the smartest person in this room, teacher included, and I’m struggling with my studies so if it doesn’t take up too much of your time, I would really appreciate if you could tutor me.” The last morsel of air escaped your lungs and you looked up at him, awaiting an answer.

The corners of his mouth turned up as he made the most enchanting smile, truly something you’d see out of a fantasy, and replied. “Of course, it’s no trouble at all, I'd be honoured to help in any way I can. And I’m not that smart, don’t make my head grow too big.” You prayed he wouldn’t notice the blush that was quickly climbing up your neck, and grinned back at him with a plethora of scenarios racing through your mind. “Thank you so much, Armin, you’re being such a great help.” And under your breath, you murmured, “But you ARE that smart.” If he noticed, he didn’t say anything, however, it was likely he did as his cheeks grew an almost hardly noticeable, pink tinge.

“I’m actually free for the rest of the day, if you want to come to my dorm room. Not that we can’t go to a library or your room it’s just that at this time it would be super busy and I wouldn’t want to intrude in your space.” Armin squeaked, averting his gaze for just a moment before returning. Was this a blessing from god himself? Armin Arlert inviting you into his own room, there was no other explanation for it. “No, that’s totally all fine with me, I agree the library would be too busy, and my room is.. a bit of a mess at the moment.” You tittered, nervously exchanging weight between your two feet like a seesaw. “Well it’s set then, let’s start making our way” Armin smiled as you two walked down to the door leading out of the lecture theatre.

—x—

The corridor felt long, too long, the plain white walls and old grey carpet seemed to stretch into an endless abyss, until Armin halted. You were there. Every muscle in your body was stiff as an 80-year-old, contradicting the lively passion of youth burning in your heart. “(Name), we’re here. (Name)?” Broken from your trance you abruptly twisted your body to face the door looming in front of you. “Are you ok, I know the place could use some work but it’s scholarship-funded so I can’t complain.” Armin awkwardly laughed, “No! No, I mean it’s fine, great even, I’m fine just spacing off haha…” Your eyes darted around, Armin looking at you with a hint of concern behind his gaze.

“Alright, as long as you're fine.” He uttered, opening the door to let you in first, ever the gentleman. So this is what his room looks like, tidy, as expected, navy blue bedding made neatly, a picture of his best friends Eren and Mikasa resting prettily on the bedside table, bookshelves from floor to ceiling, not one spot left unfilled, and a large desk complete with anything you could ever need for schoolwork. Armin to a t. “Wow, your room is so beautifully organised, wish I had that kind of commitment.” You joked, turning to smile back at him, to which he returned the gesture. “Well, I try.” He said smugly.

He strode over to the mahogany desk, pulling out an extra chair from behind for you to perch yourself on. “Feel free to make yourself comfortable, if you’re cold you can use my throw blanket, the place doesn’t have heating so it can get a little chilly.” You turned your attention to Armin, holding the fluffy grey blanket in his hand, smiling to yourself you took it gratefully and placed it upon your body, opening your bag to get out your studying supplies. “Thank you, it was feeling a bit nippy in here, won’t you get cold without it though?” Armin slinked around your chair, carefully positioning himself in his own, “Don’t worry about me, I’ve got pants and a jumper on, you’re wearing a skirt so priority should fall to you.”

You nodded in agreement, flipping your textbook to where you were stuck. Armin began to pull out his books, kicking off his shoes as you were reminded to do the same. He watched you, how you swung your legs from the chair, how you tucked your hair behind your ear so as to not get in the way of reading your book, how you would occasionally glance back at him, only to quickly look away with a light dust of pink on your cheeks. You were cute, he had to admit, it was obvious, but in your own unnerved state you ignored how he fidgeted with his hands, how his thigh was subtly bouncing up and down, and how he blushed when you caught him staring. Armin cleared his throat to terminate the silence, “So, um, what was it that you needed help with?”

You explained to Armin the concept you were stuck on, pointing to a practice question. “I just- don’t get how it works, like I know the steps but my brain doesn’t know how to put it into action.” You met Armins’ eyes as he reached over to your hand, shuffling his chair closer so that your thighs may abut at any moment. “Can I?” He asked, glancing at the pen you were holding. “Yeah, sure.” You handed him the instrument, your fingers brushing against each other a second or two longer than what would be considered an accidental graze of the hand. His breath slightly hitched and you raised your head to look at him, however, he had already begun writing on a blank piece of paper nearby.

“Here, (name) I finished this question, let’s go over how to do it.” He placed the paper down next to your book, explaining the question with words you’ve probably never heard in your life, damn that man is smart. It all blurred into one while he was speaking anyway, the way he could talk for hours and you wouldn’t get sick of hearing his sweet voice. He was so close, if you had been cold before you’d done a 180 because with the way your body was overheating you couldn’t help but slide the blanket down your legs to release some of the warmth. Exposing just your upper thighs, as you didn’t have the gall to completely take it off after recently accepting his thoughtful gesture.

Time passed as you followed the same formulaic routine, practise questions, marking, explanation on where you went wrong, where you didn’t. The room now had an orange aura about it as the sun began to take its rest for the day, you’d lost count of what question you were on, your palm rested against your head acting as the lone barrier between you and your heading slamming the desk in exhaustion. You heard the sound of a pen rolling across the desk, and Armin's hand was on your upper thigh. Gripping it, hard. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I really didn’t mean to do that, I was just trying to reach for the pen before it fell off the desk when I sort of lost my balance, I’m really sorry (name).” Just your luck.

Your face burned a bright red, as did his as he desperately tried to explain himself. But fuck did you want him to do it again. Nothing but spurts of air came out of your mouth, no words could describe what you were feeling, what you wanted him to do to you. The room fell silent for a brief period, and a shaky breath escaped your lungs. “I’m so so sorry, I can leave if you need me to, although this is my room so- um- I don’t know…”

You jerked your head up, looking at Armin as he thrashed about in his chair, searching for a solution that he wouldn’t be able to find in his flustered state.

“Armin calm down, I don’t mind, you didn’t try to make me feel uncomfortable on purpose or anything!” You said, grabbing a hold of his strong shoulders and gazing deep into his azure eyes. He sat still, exhaling in relief. “God I thought I screwed it up with you, you had me panicking when you weren’t responding.” He chuckled, “It’s all good Armin, stop overreacting you only touched my thigh, there are worse places.” You smirked, “But I’d probably like you touching me there more…” you said in the faintest voice, thinking someone as quick-witted and observant as he wouldn’t notice. His jaw dropped in shock and his back straightened upright as electricity coursed through his nervous system.

“Did you.. mean that?” You slowly turned your head back around in horror, no way he fucking heard that, the window was close by may as well take a dive off the 3rd floor. “H-huh?” You tried to play it dumb, nobody here is being fooled by that, not even yourself. Armin took a breath before glancing to the side and back at you, beads of sweat beginning to form on his forehead as he almost choked on his words. “I could be completely off base here but, if you meant what you said, then I guess- I wouldn’t, uh, mind touching…” he said, his voice barely a whisper by the last word. You sat there, dumbfounded. It must be a dream.

“I- uh, yes?” Armin moved closer, gently placing his hand on top of yours, “Don’t feel pressured we can go back to studying if it was just a sarcastic remark.” Your heart was beating a thousand times per minute, and any oxygen passing through your lungs vanished in an instant, this couldn’t be happening, could it? “No, I meant it, really, if you still wanna…” His hand tenderly trailed from your own up your arm and to your waist, pulling you closer into his embrace. The blanket that provided you warmth slipped off your legs entirely to be long forgotten on the floor. His veiny hands delicately tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, as he leaned in and whispered, “I’ll do whatever you want me to, just say the word alright?” His body heat radiated against your frame, causing you to let out small pants as his fingers leisurely traced up and down your sides.

“Kiss.. please.” You said breathily. Armin pulled back, you could see a certain hunger in his eyes before his plush lips met your own, he was intense, yet docile, taking such care in pleasing you, beckoning to your every wish and desire. “You're so perfect, so sweet for me.” He said between kisses, your lips entwined with each other, neither of you eager to stop anytime soon. He brought his other hand to rest behind your neck, lightly grasping your hair to pull you deeper into the kiss. The hand that was around your waist slithered down to the back of your thigh as he used it as leverage to lift you onto his desk. You gasped at the sudden movement, allowing Armin to intrude his tongue into your mouth, as his hand once again seized your waist.

“Mh!” You moaned into his mouth, as he slid his surprisingly muscular thigh between your legs, pressing against where you needed him the most. You grasped at anything behind you to stabilise yourself, the contact making your body go limp, so long for the various papers and stationary that toppled off the desk in your wake. Just when you thought it couldn’t get any better, a gasp escaped your lips, breaking the kiss while he moved his thigh up and down, rubbing the thick material of his pants on your clothed pussy. “Be a good girl and use it, ok?” Armin purred into your ear, his lips making their way from your jaw, down to your neck, and stopping at your collarbone, marking them with maroon-coloured blemishes. As per his instructions, you began to rock yourself on his leg, hands clawing at the fabric of his freshly ironed jumper, leaving wrinkles in the fabric as it bunched up.

He took clutch of your waist, you could feel his fingertips softly guiding your hips to arch forward and backward in a fluid motion. The friction of his rough jeans was too much to handle, making your clit throb incessantly while small whimpers slipped off the tip of your tongue. Your legs desperately suffocated his own as you rocked yourself at a faster pace. To which Armin promptly shoved his leg further into your core, causing the desk to shake and miscellaneous objects to fall from the cliff as he spread your legs out once again. “You’re doing so good, keep going. Tell me where to touch you next.” All you could manage was a barely audible “Ok”, too caught up in the pleasure to form a coherent sentence.

All of a sudden he stopped, his leg halting as he lifted his head from your body, hair messy, pupils dilated, and lips wet. The look in his eyes said he wanted, no, NEEDED to devour you. However, the loss of contact made you whine out in frustration. “Min..” you groaned, apprehensively grinding yourself on his leg in hopes he would move just an inch. “(Name) you gotta tell me with your words now,” Armin spoke, leaving one more kiss on your neck before looking up at you with pleading eyes. Sighing, you bit your lip in embarrassment, “Anywhere, everywhere, wanna feel you all over me… inside me.” He gazed back, stunned at your confession, not to say he wasn’t wishing for the same thing.

You felt the harsh grip of his hand on your ass in an instant, pulling you flush with his hips where you could feel the unmistakable hardness of his dick pressing against you. He swiftly lifted your legs to wrap around his torso while pushing your back against the desk, his hand placed behind your head to make sure you didn’t hit it too hard. His lips were hot against yours and you could feel your baby hairs cling to your forehead from the sweat. Armin's nimble fingers made their way up your shirt, carefully pulling it over your head while he held you off the desk by your waist, hands burning your skin with the simple touch. Your eyes darted down to where his erection strained against his pants, he couldn’t help but needily grind his cock into you to release at least some pressure.

Armin's free hand went to cup your breast through your bra, kneading the flesh as you moaned out in ecstasy. Soon he reached around your back to unclasp the undergarment, staring intently as your tits slightly bounced while falling out. He pressed into your core harder as he felt the soft sensation of your bare boobs beneath his fingertips, experimentally rolling your nipple between his index and middle. The heat in the air was unbearable, the warmth of Armin's jumper far too much at that moment. He gave a quick peck and a quaint “sorry” before lifting himself to strip his body of the item, revealing his toned torso and arms.

While you gawked at his body his hands were making fast pace to underneath your skirt, his short nails leaving tingling sensations as he traced them up your thighs. He folded up your skirt to get a better view, pausing to stare at the pink lace panties you adorned and discreetly swallowing the saliva forming at the back of his throat. He traced his eyes along your body, committing all your curves, the slight furrow of your brows and the way your chest raised up and down in anticipation to memory. His hand trailed its way down to your underwear, breathily sighing as he pressed his middle finger into the large soaked patch.

“Are you this wet for me?” Armin borderline whispered, his face flushing a deep crimson he attempted to hide by swivelling his head to the side. “You’re so cute, Armin.” You mused, interlocking your fingers with his and squeezing them within the palm of your hand. “N- stop, I can’t focus if you tease me like that..” He turned his attention back to you, face still flushed as he guided the hand you were holding to press against your panties. “Do you feel how fucking drenched you are?” He pressed your hand harder into your clit, “How am I not supposed to get excited?” Armin said defensively, you giggled at the sight before you were rudely awoken to his fingers dipping beneath the confines of your underwear.

Your moans rang embarrassingly loud in the small room as a finger shallowly dipped itself inside your pussy. “Is that ok with you?” Armin questioned, it didn’t really matter though as you’d let him do anything to you, however, you mustered up a half moan, half mhm in reply. His finger pulled its way out before pushing in again, much deeper than before. He set a slow rhythm, getting you acquainted with the feeling of something foreign inside of you. You peeked down to where his finger was pumping repeatedly, the veins of his hand prominent when he strained to curl his finger.

“Please, more.” You beseeched, he met your half-lidded eyes and swore he could’ve come from the perilous gaze staring back at him. “Anything for you angel.” And with that, you felt the stretch of a second finger entering you, thrusting faster and harder till your toes were curling in euphoria. Armin leaned over your body to kiss you, his tongue entering your mouth without hesitation, his fingers unrelenting on this attack on your pussy. As he was placing a thumb on your clit, his body jerked at the unforeseen touch of your hand palming his dick. “Mmm, so good min-“ you praised, causing him to nearly double over in pleasure.

The harder you pressed against his cock, the faster he would circle around your clit and thrust his fingers in and out, the more raucous your moans, the more you felt the twitch of his dick beneath his pants. It was a battle of who could indulge the other better, first to come lost, although it was never a fair fight, with the way he reached that spongy spot inside of you over and over, you were mere seconds from falling apart. “Gonna- come, ah!” You shrieked, your core clenching around his fingers so hard he may never be able to escape, “Go on, come for me now.”

You were past the threshold, climax hitting you with the power of a thousand colossals’. Although Armin didn’t stop the plunging of his fingers, rather speeding up, causing a lone tear to trickle down the side of your cheek onto the long-forgotten answer page he had so kindly written for you. “S- too much Armin..” You panted, still high off the last orgasm that propelled its way through your body at an alarmingly intense rate. “I know you can do it, trust me you won’t regret it.” He mumbled into your ear, arm tired yet still so eager to make this something to remember, make him something to remember. “Won’t be able- to take this,” you lightly brushed your hand over his erect dick, “if you keep going.”

His heart stopped momentarily before his hand. You slumped back when he gently pulled his fingers out of you, a string of your cum still attached from where his fingers were inside of you. When it broke, your blurred gaze followed his hand to where he placed them tactfully in his mouth, beginning to suck the viscous liquid. They came out clean, sparkling even, not a single drop wasted, and your pussy clenched around nothing at the sight.

“I uh- I don’t have any condoms 'cause I usually, no- haven’t, done this before..” Armin stuttered, eyes darting around his room just in case he’d find the non-existent protection he was speaking of. “Me either.” You said reassuringly, despite the nerves that were eating you up alive. “Really?” He questioned, “I didn’t mean that in a rude way at all it’s just- you’re so beautiful it was surprising to hear that.” Armin flushed, interlinking his pinky finger with your own. “I could say the same for you, I mean you’re sweet, handsome, smart, and with the way you were y’know doing that earlier I thought you must’ve had experience.” Your head turned away at the last word, it was far too embarrassing to look him in the eye after you said all that.

However, you were caught off guard when he grasped your chin between his index and thumb, turning you back around to meet him face-to-face. You felt his soft breaths against your skin, he was so close, and the way he was looking at you felt so.. intimate. “I may or may not have had practice with that stuff with my previous girlfriend, but I’ve never gone this far with her, or anyone for that matter. We’ve barely talked but there’s this feeling in my gut saying it wants it to be you.” A short gasp slipped past your lips, you wanted it to be him, too. “I’m on birth control, and I’m clean, obviously, so- please I need you right now.”

The clinking of his belt buckle rang through the room, commanding all your attention. His fingers danced through the belt loops, pulling it loose, you heard the clear thump of it falling to the ground. You utilised your elbows to prop you up, gazing downwards as he undressed himself, alluring you as if it were some kind of performance. He unbuttoned his trousers, and undid the zip, sighing in relief as the constraints were lifted. They slid down his legs, taking their time to reveal the main act of the evening. “Before I take these off, could you please take off your skirt and panties for me?” Armin croaked, attempting to distract the spotlight from shining on him too long. You complied, shimmying the items down your legs and blushing as you realised you were completely naked for Armin Arlert to see.

“It’s only fair you return the favour…” He pulled down his boxers, letting his cock spring free, it was pretty like him, pink and dripping with pearly white beads of precum, and surprisingly big too. You couldn’t help but stare, yet he couldn't complain, as he was doing the exact same to you. You both gawked at each other, unmoving. “Will that fit-“, “You’re so gorgeous-“, You both spoke at the same time, inebriated by the other’s presence. The implications of that comment dawned on Armin, and he tried to shield himself out of instinct, he was far too laggard though, as you gripped his wrist before he could block your view. “Don’t cover yourself, I wanna see all of you, even if it is a tad daunting.” You chuckled.

You felt his muscles soften under your hold, slowly pulling his hand away to place it on the desk, caging you with his presence. “I promise to be gentle, just tell me whatever comes to your mind to guide me, please?” He whispered, his head dipped down into the crook of your neck. You wondered if he could feel how fast your heart was beating when your chest gladly welcomed his. “Ok, but just know that I trust your judgement on any decision you make, try not to overthink anything and enjoy it for me.” You smiled, running your fingers through his silky locks. “Of course,” Armin tenderly spoke back, as he raised his body from yours.

You gasped as you felt his dick rubbing along your pussy, coating itself in your slick. Until it caught in your opening, his tip at your entrance pulsing and needy to be sheathed inside you. One hand guided his cock within your walls, the other rested against a shelf for support, inch by inch he sank deeper into you, and as the distance between him and the hilt shortened, he was reduced to a symphony of pathetic whines. However, your voice sought to challenge his, moans just as loud as the other, making it infinitely harder for him to stop the pulsing of his dick inside you. Armin was both equipped with girth and length, making the stretch unbearable, your hands that were wrapped around his frame clawed the skin, leaving stinging red lines behind their path.

“You’re so s-so good, just relax your body f’me, you’re too tight, nh-“ He rambled in your ear, barely able to pronounce his words at the sensation of your warm, wet pussy engulfing him whole. The feeling of the harsh wood underneath you was completely numbed by Armin as he pushed deeper and deeper, not an end in sight. You could feel the slightest movements, the two veins that ran along the underside of his dick, and the shivers that ran down Armin's spine, causing him to jolt his hips forward abruptly. “Just a little bit.. ah- more, taking me so well.” You felt the last of him slip inside you, your hips flush against his, stretching you out further than ever before. Your breaths were in unison for the minute or two you were rendered inert, the burn began to ease and the need for more had arisen.

Leeching onto his shoulders, you rolled yourself into him, a choked moan escaping his erubescent lips. Your eyes met in a moment of agreement, and his hips pulled back timidly before returning to their original position. Full body shudders erupted over your perspiring skin, he pulled back, only to push back in again, and out, and in, and out, and in, until it was a slow but fluent movement. You gazed up above you, to see the upturned brows and marginally parted lips, to which high-pitched whimpers and praises couldn’t help but fall out of. He was ethereal. Yet you wished for more, to stain every crevice and crumb of his being with adultery and filth. A sardonic pleasure in which you can bask in the knowledge that you and you alone have ruined him for anyone who dares to unveil his sheep’s cloak.

“Harder, min..” you moaned breathlessly into his ear, making his abdomen tense violently, attempting to keep himself from filling you up with his cum that very moment. Warm air tickled your ear before you were left with nothing but the tip of his dick inside you, that was until everything was inside you, in an instant. His cock split you open, gradually fucking you harder and faster till saliva was threatening to pour from the side of your mouth. Your legs wrapped around his torso, ankles interlocking to get him as far as possible. He reached his hand down to feel your stomach, pressing down so that he could feel his cock meet his fingers, “does it hurt taking it?” Armin questioned, with half-lidded eyes you looked below you. “Bit, not much anymore though… if I wanna be your slut- gotta get used to it.”

His hips stuttered, breaking the fast rhythm they had built up, and a loud groan slipped past his lips. His hands travelled to capture the backs of your knees, protracting your legs to rest over his broad shoulders. Resting his weight on your body your knees touched your chest, and his thick cock plunged itself deep inside you. “F-fuck Armin!” He soon regained his previous pace, the only sounds that graced your ears were the wet slaps of him pounding your pussy like no tomorrow, and the periodic thumping of the desk knocking on the thin walls. Armin coyly glanced to the side before perking up, “Such a good fucking slut for me, taking my dick like that-“ he choked on his words as he felt your pussy squeeze him desperately, the hand on your waist gaining a bruising force.

“If you tighten around my dick like that I don’t think I’ll be able to control myself…” good thing you didn’t want him to. Armin caressed your cheek with his free hand, before slinking it around the back of your head and pulling you up by the hair to meet his supple lips. You retaliated by biting down lightly on his bottom lip, making his thrusts increase in pace. His dick was kissing the head of your cervix as you whined broken sentences into his mouth, “r-ight, there.. ah! Min-“ he adjusted the angle of his hips to reach that spongey spot inside of you, your legs still being brutally folded in half with your feet dangling over his head.

“M’ gonna come..” the pressure had built and wrapped tightly around your core, drawing you closer and closer to the precipice of release. Armin relinquished the battle of your tongues, leaving a small string of spit between your swollen lips, and placed a thumb over your clitoris, swirling in rapid circles. “Mh- me too, come for me, angel.” And with that, your pussy was squeezing the life out of him like a vice, the two of you moaning loud enough to alert the whole building. “Can I- fill you.. up? Please?” You choked out a faint “yes” before you felt Armin's strokes begin to falter and eyes roll back in gratification. The warm sensation of his cum saturating your insides made you clench around him even tighter, drawing out every last drop as he watched himself fuck his cum back inside you.

“Ah! Such a, good, fucking, girl.” He panted, accentuating each word with a hard plunge. Before he slumped down to rest against you, holding your body tenderly in your hands while he ran another through your slightly damp hair. You felt the tensing of his muscles begin to alleviate, and your heart rate climbed back down to a moderate pace. Armin pulled out gently after taking a moment to regain his breath, even so, it hitched again when he saw his cum seep out onto the desk. “I’ll be right back,” he said, pecking you on the cheek before going to the bathroom to grab a washcloth.

He came back to the sight of you, fucked out on his desk, legs trembling, and eyes fighting to stay open. “Sorry if it feels too sensitive, it’ll only be a second I promise.” He carefully dragged the towel between your legs, making you squirm as the fabric briefly brushed your clit, and down onto the table where it had seeped out. “C'mon, let’s get you in the shower, yeah?” Armin gently lifted you in his arms, your legs wrapping around him like a koala bear, before he carried you to the cramped bathroom. “I’m so sorry if I was too rough, just wanted to make you happy.” He said, hiding his face in the nook of your neck, “Don’t apologise, I liked it, a lot.” Armin blushed, rotating his head to the side as he turned on the hot water, placing you down on your feet but making sure to still hold you in case you didn’t have the strength to stand. “Me too…”

—x—

“Soooo Armin, what did you do yesterday?” Eren grinned, reclining back in his chair watching Armin's hand immediately halt as he glanced to the side blushing. “Oh- uh, just the usual, y’know studying..” he chuckled, now repeatedly clicking his pen up and down. “Oh yeah, I bet you were doing a lot of ‘studying’ with (name) last night.” Armin's tongue darted out to wet his lips, looking to the ground as he was too embarrassed to meet Erens mischievous gaze. “Yeah, we were um- well she asked me to tutor her.” Eren bounced his knee up into the desk three times with faint moans before smirking, “Did you forget who lives on the other side of your wall? You guys were loud as fuck, good on you though I didn’t know you had that in you.”

His hand came down to his knee, Eren slapping it carelessly while breaking out into a fit of laughter. Armin lightly kicked him under the desk, his face tomato-red as he glared at the guy sitting across from him. “Shut up, we’re in a library and people are staring!” Armin whisper-yelled. Eren went dead silent as he spotted you a table or two away, noticing a plethora of dark purple marks along your neck. “Goddamn, you were feasting on that shit.” Armin buried his head in his palms while Eren sat there eyes wide with shock. You felt someone’s gaze boring into the back of your head, turning around you spotted Armin and his best friend Eren. You waved over to Armin to which he mustered up a meek smile and waved back, Eren looked over at Armin with a shit-eating grin on his face before ushering you over.

“Hey (Name), I’m Eren, I think we’ve talked in one of our classes before.” You sat down in the chair next to Armin, positioning yourself to face Eren, “Uh yeah I think I remember you! Good to see you again.” You smiled, glancing over to look at Armin, whose eyebrow was twitching ever so subtly. “Oh I actually saw you this morning when you came out of Armin's room, sorry I didn’t say hi sooner.” Your neck snapped back around to Eren, the only thing coming out of your mouth being awkward chuckles. You’ve never seen someone so innocent-looking give the deadliest glare to someone before.

“(Name), do you wanna go on a date, right now?” Armin asked, entangling his fingers with yours. “I-I’d love to, but um, weren’t you hanging out here before I intruded?” Eren leaned forward in his chair, “Go on with Armin, it makes me happy to see him with a girlfriend after so long.” He said earnestly, neither of you confirming or denying the accusation before you both stood up leaving him with a small “thank you”.

————————————————————————

I don’t really like the starting bit it’s lwk cringey, but I prefer smut with some backstory so whatever 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️. Hope you enjoyed I know ts isn’t realistic for a first time but it’s fanfiction so who cares 🙏. I’m open to any requests also, as long as it’s not incest…

2 years ago

TW: SCRATCHES, 18+

JUST SAYINGGG !!!

TW: SCRATCHES, 18+
3AM THOTS… Masochist Izuku.

3AM THOTS… masochist izuku.

it’s his dirtiest, sacred secret; one he’s beyond ashamed of. poor little izuku can’t get it up without feeling a little pain. if he had to play therapist for a minute, izuku would circle his fetish back to his early yuuei days. quirk training was hard—painful. perhaps he’s built up a tolerance for the pain, and has even grown to like it? honestly, he could care less about the logistics of it all. the only thing occupying his dumb mind is the thought of your heel digging into his chest.

izuku decided to bring the idea up one night in bed. you two were getting hot and heavy under the sheets: you sat in his clothed lap, grinding slow and languid as your tongues lapped into each other’s open, warm mouth. the serenity was cut short when izuku squeezed at your hips, retracting back. “wait-wait h-hang on a sec,” izu stuttered, speaking through wet lips. his face was vermillion, throat dry with humiliation. “i wanna try somethin’ tonight.”

you agreed to give into his desires, to rough him up a bit in bed, and the rest was history. he’d spent the rest of the night teaching you how to choke him properly. with you in his lap, izuku guided your hand up to his thick neck. “find my pulse,” he whispered, tilting his head back to give you ample pace. “squeeze there, on the sides of my neck. right under my jaw—there you go, right there.” that night was the first of many thigh-shaking orgasms for izuku.

next time was on the couch. izuku had made a move during movie night, sinking before you onto his knees. the carpet burned against his flesh, but that only elicited a moan of excitement from the boy. in no time, izuku’s head buried itself between your porcelain thighs, eating you out with such vigor, you had been rendered delirious.

then, there was another instruction asked by him. “pull my hair,” he mumbled out against your skin, pleading in between short kisses to the apex of your thigh. “please, pl—pull my hair, y/n. make it hurt.” how could you deny such a delectable request? your fingers weaved through messy, forest locks, yanking his roots with curled fingers. izuku groaned into your pussy, his eyes literally rolling back into his skull. “harder,” he begged, shifting his right hand into his pants, presumably to stroke himself, while the latter stayed gripping onto your thigh as he sheathed his tongue deep into your folds.

even when izuku is feeling more dominant for the evening, he still craves to be tortured by your pretty hands. he had you in missionary after a particularly rough patrol, hips knocking into yours with stern, quick strokes. “hey,” he muttered low, dipping his head down to place his lips against your ear lobe. “why’re you gripping the blanket? my back is right here.”

even through the intense pleasure, you managed to wield your infamous smirk before sinking your fingernails into the taught, smooth expanse of izuku’s muscular back. “fuuuu—” his pace quickens, eyebrows pulled together as he tries to edge himself. “fuck me up, honey. m-make me bleed, please, god… s-shit!” as his cum leaked from between your legs, izuku reveled in the sting of scratches over his upper back.

yeah, izuku liked pain.

3AM THOTS… Masochist Izuku.

: :: ꒰ masterlist.°꒱ ꒰ mailbox.°꒱

3AM THOTS… Masochist Izuku.
1 year ago

⌗︙・when you tell hange they can't kiss your lips ⸜⸜・

"aren't you my pretty girl?" hange coos, wrapping their arms around your body. you shoo at them, you want to do your makeup in peace but it's impossible with them.

"what? can't i love my gorgeous girlfriend?" they ask, kissing your lightly on the cheek. you continue doing your makeup until you reach the last thing and that is to put on your lipstick.

"does that mean i can't kiss you now?" hange asks, still latched onto you like a koala.

"right." you answer and your lips pop. you look at yourself in the mirror, proud of your makeup today.

"what are you doing?" you sigh when hange gets on their knees. they peel your panties down your legs and you moan when you feel their breath on your cunt.

"i can't kiss your lips so im gonna kiss the other ones." they say before diving into your cunt. they're messy, your juices soaking their whole face. you try to hold yourself but it's hard with their talented mouth. hange slowly circles your clit while they eat you out like a man starved.

" I hate you." you choke out, it's disgusting how fast they can bring you to your knees.

"yeah? prove it. fuck my face." you moan at their words, humping against their face. you're so close but you don't want this to end, you want their mouth on you at all times. your hips shake as you cum on their face, your juices covering hange's cheeks and mouth. they smack their lips, loving how you taste.

"good girl. now enjoy your time with your friends, im gonna fuck you later."

11 months ago

Just saw iwa + dry humping + making out and JUMP IN- 💃💃

Lightning Strike | H. Iwaizumi

lightning strike | h. iwaizumi

✮ tags ; afab + gn!reader, recently established relationship, mutual pining, pwp, dry humping + making out, nipple play, implied raw sex, super love-dovey, deliberate name change from iwaizumi to hajime 18+

✮ wc ; 4k (???????)

✮ a/n ; something deeply frightening happened to me in writing this but whatever. made it with ten minutes to spare happy bday mr iwaizumi

pls be nice if characterization is everywhere its been a while

Lightning Strike | H. Iwaizumi

He’s nervous.  

So nervous. 

You laugh at him over a can of beer, even harder when he visibly flinches at the sound. The room is too quiet since all of your company has left for the evening. Iwaizumi is tipsy but not drunk - though you think if he has another can he’ll get there just fine.  

“Your face is gonna get stuck if you keep frowning.”  

He shoots you a glare that makes your lips quirk up. “Shut up. You sound like my Ma.”  

“How is she by the way? Still good?”  

Iwaizumi snorts and takes a long sip of his beer. He tilts his head back against the couch, arm stretched along the seats. His muscles pull taut underneath the skintight material of his turtleneck. You find yourself sitting on your hands to calm down, but you’re too unfocused for it too work.  

“She’s good. She likes the countryside. Been growing squash and tomatoes and everything. Gonna try and stay with her a bit during off-season,” His voice is wistful and affectionate. An only son, filial and polite - you smile at him lovingly. “You should come visit with me.”  

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh? Guess it’s the same since we’ve already met but since we’re going steady I though you might be too nervous.”  

The realization settles in too late. Just when you thought he’d swallow the nerves down, they make an appearance once again. He sits up straight, clearing his throat, diverting his gaze to the coffee table separating you both. A blush spreads up, all through his body. His ears turn especially turn some shade of cherry red. Dusts all along his nose. He tsks at you, tongue clicking with a familiar petulance. You bite back a laugh.  

“Going steady? Seriously?”  

“Well,” Your face twists in mischief as you look up at him, your eyes locking briefly. “You’d get all hissy if I called us lovers.”  

His eyes go wide - in equal parts shock and mild disgust. You can’t hold the laugh back that time time no matter how hard you try. It bubbles up out of you, euphoric and hysterical. Your laughter is too loud to savor his displeasure, so caught up in it that it takes you a few minutes to calm down again,  

“I hate you,” Iwaizumi mumbles. A grin splits your face. 

“No, you don’t.”  

He frowns and his blush darkens just a touch  

The room goes quiet save for the sound of your heartbeat. You try and collect yourself. The house feels too quiet, all prior company absen. Not that Mattsun and Maki dragged out Oikawa to be considerate of your newfound love or anything. You’re sure you’ve already gotten a long text detailing your extortion related to the favor. Still, you’re glad to be alone with him.  

It’s easy to split your time between all of them separately when you’re all in the same place - but complicated to be all together. And alone time with Iwaizumi has always been hard to come by.  

You’ve been pining for him since highschool - the frequency you wish to see him tuned tuned by the passing years of your relationship and feelings. You’ve gone through the whole spectrum of desires. From wanting to see him everyday constantly, to hoping you’d never have to see him again. It took you well over a decade to make any progress, and the entire process (while surely heartfelt) has been unmistakably clumsy and so, so long.  

Spending alone time with Iwaizumi has thus always been complicated except for this one time. You got together, officially, just last week. The day he came home, where you incidentally found yourselves alone together. Something that’d been rare years prior due to said pining and trying to get over him. You don’t even really know how it happened. It felt like the most significant moment in your life thus far and incomparably anticlimatic at once. He was just sending you home since you’d got completely shitfaced, and before you left you grabbed him by the collar and announced it. Just like that.  

(You threw up half-way through the car ride back. Your Uber was nice enough to pull over so you didn’t do it in his car.) 

You went home after and didn’t speak for days. It took a few more days for either of you to work up the courage to sort things out forreal, but you made it work with the help of even more alcohol.  

Things get busy though, when Oikawa returns home and Hajime is off-season. It’s rare things line up, and when they do - it’s only natural you spend all your time together. You did today too, celebrating Iwaizumi’s birthday among the four of you with take-out and Godzilla movies on your nice flatscreen.  

But you haven’t been alone with each other since your chat establishing your relationship as not a pipe-dream, which was notably through text.  

He’s nervous, so incredibly nervous but so are you. Just a little.  

You look up after being lost in thought - to see Iwaizumi stare at you. The air shifts slow and steady, thick tension stirring in your gut. You bite the inside of your cheek, rubbing your feet together as you fold over yourself, chin resting on your knee. 

You wonder if you should be the one to break the distance. Iwaizumi beats you to the punch this time. You suppose you’re even.  

“Come ‘ere.”  

He pushes the coffee table farther away from him with ease, careful not to knock anything over. Your tipsy self swoons over his competence, but you’re sure you’d do the same sober.  

The look he gives you as you crawl over to him makes you feel bashful. You go over until you’re sitting side by side - stretching your legs out. Your thighs barely touches. Iwaizumi jolts, swiping a hand over his face in exasperation.  

“Sorry,”  

You shake your head. “It’s okay.” Because it is, then just to make sure. “Are we okay?”  

“More than okay,” He admits, a breath of relief following the words. “It was a good birthday, by the way. Thank you.”  

“They’ll get upset that you only thanked me,”  

He bristles immediately making you giggle. “I’ll thank those knuckleheads later.” 

You smile at him, wide and bright. He looks at you before quickly looking away, laughing a little humorlessly to himself. You wonder what he’s thinking about but decide against asking, comfortable letting him go at whatever speed.  

“Can I uh—“ He clears his throat. “Wanna kiss you. Just uhh… shit.”  

You’d love to tease him, but you feel like your heart might explode out of your body so there’s not really much room. Nodding, you sit up on your knees and turn a little to face him. His features soften with remarkable fondness. You flush at the sudden attention. He sits up straighter, turning his head to face you. His forehead knocks against yours softly, noses brushes. His eyes are so sharp. You have to close your own when you feel him leaning in to kiss you.  

Iwaizumi is warm. His lips are softer than you thought they’d be. His hands feel big as one snakes up to cup your neck. He gives you one deep kiss, followed by two pecks before pulling away to make you chase him. He rewards you by kissing you agai. The sudden pressure makes your head spin.  

You pull away dazed. “You’re… super good at kissing.”  

“Yeah?”  

You press your thighs together at his reply. So sexy it’s unfair. “Uh-huh.”  

He gives you a weighted hum. 

His reaction spurs you on then. You pull away from him momentarily. Iwaizumi stares at you in reply, worry making his brow furrow. Before he can get the words out, you seat yourself on his lap. He’s taken aback as he realizes your intent, your arms around his neck. It’s not even really the alcohol, as much as it’s everything else. Cramped in your living room together, pressed up against your couch. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, and shiver in his arms smelling his cologne. Spicy with a hint of pine. He hesitates, hands settling so carefully on your hips.  

He lets you stay like that undisturbed until you’re ready to pull away. Like he senses you needed that. He’s always been so good at knowing what exactly you need. Suddenly restless you decide you need to look at him again - make sure he’s real. That this is real.  

“Hey,” He mutters. His pitch is low, sends your heart hammering.  

You giggle, fluttering nervously. “Hi,” And then, “You like me,”  

“Pfft,” His voice is so tender, so soft, so comforting. “More than that.”  

Suddenly overwhelmed by your own giddiness, you squeak. You want to bury yourself in his shoulder again, but he’s quick to hold your wrist and stop you. He pins you under his gaze. It’s so intense you can’t help but feel like a deer caught in headlights. Your head is empty and all he’s doing is looking at you.  

But maybe that’s the whole problem. He’s looking at you, and you’ve wanted that for more than a decade. Now having it is too much, too suddenly - and you’re almost afraid of having it. It’s just a gaze, but it’s yours. He’s telling he’s yours in a way that’s just like him.  

“You…” He starts on something before letting you go. “For a long time,”  

He doesn’t need to explain. You already know.  

“Me too,” 

He calms down when you get it..  

“Really?” He follows up. He doesn’t look at you as he goes on. “How long?”  

You think on it.  

“Since we were fifteen?”  

“Same as me, then.” He’s clumsy with the follow-up. “That’s…”  

“Dumb? Ridiculous? Too long?” You say, filling in the words for him. “I know.”  

The extent of your own longing comes to you in waves. Love, like the sea trapped behind ice - so easily shattered. You’re drowning, your lungs aching trying to get adjusted to what is finally yours. The shock of it comes and goes, but you’re surrounded by it all the same. Iwaizumi stares at you and you stare back and nothing in the world exists except this desire you’ve kept to yourself for years.  

His name comes out like a whimper on your lips. “Iwaizumi,”  

“Hajime,” He corrects, so tender. So sweet to you. “Please,”  

“Hajime,” You test the name out on your tongue. It’s sweet.  

He doesn’t say anything after that.  

Your breath hitches as Hajime crowds into your space again. His hands are firm on your hips as he kisses you again. It’s different from before, lingers longer - his tongue pressing along the seam of your lips until you open them and allow him in deeper.The taste of alcohol is clearer on your tongue, bitter remnants of malt making you drool at the corners of your mouth. You kiss hungrily, your hands carding through the short, black hair with a longing sigh. Hajime groans a little when you tug at the root and the only thing you can think to do is try to sink into him further. .  

The hear raises without warning. Your skin under your clothes feels like it’s on fire. It feels different too suddenly for you to adjust and keep completely calm. Lust that borders cosmic engraves into your bones. Crumbling under the weight of it, you kiss Hajime like your life would end without it. In the moment, it feels like it would. Exchanged breaths are the only source of air for that space and time. You feel frantic, hazy - and Hajime who you know to be so steady, proves to be in the same place as you. 

His hands are so big. You can feel how tight he grabs you, his thumb pressing into your hipbones - itching to go lower. You don’t want to pull away but you want more. In the second you take a breath you tell him as much. Your own delirium might bring you shame if you were in any place to really feel it. “You can touch me. However you want.”  

“Fuck. Don’t say that.”  

“Hajime, please.”  

You mutter something but you don’t catch what it really. Your head is swimming with unrepentant ardor and your tongue feels too heavy for your mouth. Hajime kisses you again and takes the lead. The pleasure echoes in how you sigh, your hips rutting against his lap as his hands squeeze your ass. His hands are so fucking big - strong and kind and hold you with no uncertainty. The groping goes straight to your cunt, stomach starting to twist with familiar arousal. You push your hips against him again.  

You’re hardly thinking about it. Hardly thinking at all - no coherency or sense thrumming through your brain except his name. Hajime, Hajime, Hajime. An incantation of destiny. A love song.  

You feel his fingers inch up to go underneath your shirt - all of a sudden feeling burdened by all the layers between you. You can’t calm down. 

He pulls away from you first in that instance. Before you can ask, he nudges himself close to your neck, kissing along your jaw. You feel the fabric of your shirt tug. “Can I take this off?”  

You nod rapidly, then mimic him wanting him to do the same. His laugh is raspy in the follow through - your shirt and bra discarded somewhere on the floor. He stops suddenly, flicking his gaze up to you like he’s asking permission again. You just nod, not knowing how else to convey your desires.  

Your nipples pebble in response to the arousal and cool air. Hajime’s tongue flicks from his lips.  

His gaze makes you feel ticklish. He runs his palms over your tits with an appreciative noise. His eyes linger long enough to make your skin go hot all over, your spine prickling with heat.  

“Staring,”  

He looks up at your face, amused by your pout then kisses you as he feels you up, calloused palms brushing against your nipples, tits fitting perfectly in his hands. He smiles a little against your mouth. “Guess I am.”  

“Take yours off,” You plea. 

He obliges you, peeling the tight shirt away from his body and leaving his bare torso in full view. The proximity makes your lungs tighten like they can’t get enough air - heat radiating from his skin. His physique is toned, layers of muscle soft and comfortable He’s structured and gorgeous like a statue. You’re greeted by his broad chest and the corded muscles of his biceps. All sinew and strength, down his core. Strong and stable and big everywhere you could possibly look. You feel awestruck, mouth-watering at the sight - clit throbbing. Objectively attractive, you’re sure anyone in your place would feel the same. But this is your Hajime and the body he’s worked so hard on, full grown and yours. The trail of hairs down his stomach, getting coarse. The v-line of his waist makes you clench. 

 Too much.  

 The words tumble out of you before you can stop them, like water spilling from a broken dam. “I want you to fuck me so bad,”  

His brows raise. You can feel something twitch hard against your clothed pussy. At full mast underneath the confines of his pants. \Your eyes go wet when you realize what it is. Mind sticky, you draw your lips into a pout and silent protest. Despite your desperation, you almost want to say it again, pleasure thrumming through your body at his reaction. It feels like electricity sparking up from the base of your spine all the way to the top of your head. 

 Hajime presses his face to your neck all over again - hot, open mouth kisses trailing from jaw to chest. You gasp when his mouth closes around your tits, tongue laving over the tender skin and making your back arch.  

“Wanna fuck you so bad,” He mirrors. His voice is scratchy and his grip is tight. “Been wanting to fuck you so bad for so long, you have no idea.”  

There’s something true and well pathetic about the yearning that wells up inside of your gut and settles itself in your sternum. It spreads and grows and tangles in your ribs, curls around the vessels of your heartbeat. The kind of yearning that makes your whole being tremble, makes you want to preen and sing like a canary. It’d be good if time stood still so he could fuck you infintely - never being able to go where you can’t reach.  

You rock against him and Hajime holds you steady like always. His voice drops down to murmur - speaking with alarming clarity. You’re teary from the sound of his voice.  

“Let’s cum together,” He offers as reprieve, so sweet despite the harsh grip on your hips as he draws your weight down closer to him. You’re suddenly conscious of your choice in clothes - how thin the fabric of your shorts really as as the rough outline of his cock presses against the seam. You’re glad you didn’t wear underwear “And then I’ll make you cum again. I’ll take care of you,”  

“You always take care of me,” You say with no awareness of your surroundings. He laughs breathlessly. ‘ 

“Yeah..since it’s you, it’s easy.”  

You go wide-eyed but don’t get a minute to dissect. Not bothering to unbutton his jeans, you gape at the hard outline of his cock confined in black boxers. his  He picks you up with ease, your legs wrapping around his waist as your spine touches the carpet of your living room floor. You make a surprised noise as you’re let down gently. He doesn’t unfurl you from him. You spark back to life as his lips meet yours again chastely. The complaint you had dies on your lips when he trails down your jaw again. His voice is next to your ear, sinfully rough - warm breath tickling your skin. His teeth tug on your ear lobe and you shiver.  

“Tell me if it’s too much,”  

You don’t get a chance to ask about it.  

The sudden motion of his hard cock rutting and humping against your sticky, wet cunt punches the air of out of your lungs.  

There’s only a single layer of wet fabric keeping him from fucking you.  The very idea makes your pussy throb unhelpfully. You understand all of a sudden that this was what he meant about wanting to make you cum. But it’s Hajime, your Hajime - so making you do any work wouldn’t cut it. Humping you in missionary of all things like he’s already inside you.  

The thought overwhelms and you gasp.  

You don’t recognize the sound of your own voice, so high and pitchy with need. Pure pornography. But there’s no camera for you perform for, nothing but Hajime above with with a heavy gaze. Your spine arches at the sensation once it hits its stride, the angle of friction just right. The indirect touches makes your core throb. Your clit has been achingly sensitive for so long, and the release of tension in a single thrust is enough to make you shudder each time. It feels like you’ve been holding the feeling in your entire life. You wheeze his name out brokenly as he does it again - a sharp thrust, precise enough to be perfect like he already knows you that well.  

Your lower body feels week as the arousal starts to climb to a steady chorus. You pant for him like a bitch in heat.  

He’s not inside you but the smack of his hips against yours makes you feel like you’re getting fucked anyways. You imagine how it’ll feel when he really fucks you and can’t see straight after the fact. Each little movement spreads precum along your shorts, already wet with your own arousal. The friction of the damp fabric makes you cry out from pleasure,  animalistic with need. Your nails dig into his biceps as he kisses you all over, wherever he can possible reach. Along your neck, shoulders, collarbones chest. Any place he has accsess.  

You want him so fucking deep it’s frustrating, want him up to your throat - but the lack of direct touch makes you want him more desperately. And it makes it feel so, so good. The kind of pleasure that’s dull and throbbing but makes something in your spine go alight, like shoving your thumb into a bruise. You want Hajime to press himself into you hard enough to make the healed dull yellows vibrant purple and red all over again.  

You gasp helplessly each time he rocks his hips into you. He’s whispering such filth against your ear, into your mouth each time you kiss and you can’t reply with anything but his name. He praises you each time anyway, goads you into saying it again. Again and again and again until you can’t find your own voice.  

“Say it again,” Hoarse, punctuated by another thrust that nearly drives you over the edge and makes your eyes go wide. “Say my name again, baby”  

“Hajime.” So you say it- can’t think of any substitute since you’re not sure god would suffice. Locked between you in the warm sticky air is just Hajime, all yours.  

Every muscle in your body starts to lock up as you hit the final stride to your orgasm. You want to cum so badly for him and only him. All over his cock in any way he’ll light you. The thought pushes you over the edge. Over and over and over until you hang over the precipice of your own orgasm. When it hits, it hits like a crash of thunder on open plain. Like suddenly everything in you that’s every been grounded in Earth is scattered with sparks, skating and careening across your body. You feel him in the fiber of your being. Your toes curl at the sudden release, not able to voice a warning that isn’t just a soft gargle in the back of your throat. He doesn’t stop or stutter in his motion, instead gripping your hips tight as he can while lets you run through your high - nothing but praise and affection.  

You can feel him more than you can see him cum along with you. Sticky, hot seed flowing in spurts as his dick twitches for you - his ragged breathing covering your skin in goosebumps. You moan at the warm sensation drenching your poor, covered pussy and find the load to be wasted though you feel contented anyway. 

 You’re barely sane enough to catch your breath, but he eventually lets you down - though you can’t keep from hugging him. You pull back to look at each other.  

You brush the sweat matted hair away from his forehead with a lovesick sigh and giggle. He looks down at you with a grin, pressing his forehead to yours with.  

“Can’t believe I came in my pants like a teenager,” He says through a laugh.  

“It’s like making up for lost time,” You say warmly, all floaty. “Plus, the way you were fucking me but not fucking me…definitely a man. It was really hot, you know?”  

He groans. “I’ll get riled up again.”  

You smile at him. “Let’s fuck lots for your birthday, Hajime.”  

“Is that the present you mentioned earlier?”  

You pretend to think on it. “Mm..no. Not just the sex, anyway.” 

He looks at you confused as you lean in closer to him. “It’s safe so there’s no condoms anywhere in this apartment, unless you wanna go stop to get some.”  

He gives you a blown out look of lust with a soft breath, voice bordering a growl. “As if I’d make it through the door now.”  

You laugh helplessly happy and kiss him. “Happy birthday.” And then a little quieter. “I love you.”  

He softens visibly but doesn’t say anything else. You don’t need to hear him to know.  

You think the spare copy of your keys might make him cry. So you decide you’ll give it to him later. 

 The clock hasn’t hit midnight yet, anyhow. You have plenty of time.  

Now and always.  

Lightning Strike | H. Iwaizumi
1 year ago

Heyy, quick question is it weird I get off on your fan fics----😐

NOT AT ALL 😭😭 I'M HONORED FR

1 year ago

I’m going crazy over this…

currently thinking about. . .

satoru who goes absolutely crazy each time you put it back in after it slips out.

cw. female!reader, vaginal sex, tit-sucking, implied creampie, slight dom/sub dynamics (dom!satoru, sub!reader).

Currently Thinking About. . .

the first time it happens is on accident. 

he’s too caught up in the way the fat of your ass jiggles with each deep thrust, too mesmerised in the feel of your soft skin between his fingertips as he gives one of your cheeks a firm squeeze. satoru’s lust-riddled brain simply didn’t take note of the way his hips started to move a little too fast, a little too quick. 

all he’s able to focus on as he takes you from behind is you, you, you—and certainly not the way his heavy cock suddenly slips out of your slippery cunt. a few drops of pre-cum dribble down the base as he involuntarily pulls out, some of it staining the back of your thighs. there’s not a lot of time to process the fact, as he’s back inside your dripping pussy almost instantly. 

your greedy hands reach for him immediately, securely wrapping around his base and slamming your hips back against his once he’s lined up again. there’s not even a chance for him to miss the warmth of your sweet pussy.

you wouldn’t even let him. 

satoru is pretty sure he’s going to cum on the spot at the realisation, and has to really, really fight himself not to finish prematurely. a deep groan rumbles from his chest, eyes almost rolling to the back of his head, as he thinks about how quick, how disguistingly eager you were as you scrambled to put him back inside. 

as if that slutty hole of yours can’t even go a second without being filled by him. 

a string of curse words tumble past his lips, and he fucks you a little harder than usual that night. 

since then, satoru’s been subtly letting himself slip out of your cunt each time the two of you have sex. the physical aspect of it isn’t hard; you’re always so incredibly wet, he’s out in a second. mentally, he’s at war with himself—though, seeing you whine and whimper as you hastily reach for his cock again makes those few agonising seconds without your warmth all worth it. 

something about the gesture makes you look desperate, impatient, and it’s all for him. and fuck, did it turn him on. 

there’s one time where he briefly suspects you’re onto him and his antics, as you insist on riding him. on being in control. it’s not something you do often, though usually he fucking loves it when you do (he still does, admittedly)—but with you on top and holding the reigns, it removes his opportunity to see you scramble to put his fat cock back inside. 

but, he’s nothing if not an optimist, so, of course, he’ll make the best of the situation. 

with the way they bounce so prettily in front of him as you rock your hips back and forth, he’s almost incapable of not sucking on them. and so, he decides to stifle his previous complaints by taking a mouthful of your tits. there’s always next time, and as he sucks on your breasts and feels you move up-and-down, he completely forgets about his former plans. 

riding him was simply one of your whims, it turns out, and the next time the two of you have sex he’s back in his usual spot. and the time after that, and after that, and after that—and as long as he’s there, he’ll keep making you desperetaly stuff his cock back inside. 

satoru’s breathing heavily now, the mere thought of it (combined with your walls griping around him like a vice) almost enough to make him dizzy. with your legs over his shoulders and thighs pressed up against your chest, cheeks stained with dried tears and soft, high-pitched moans and hiccups leaving your lips—he can’t help but feel the familiar itch to ruin your fun.

even if it’s just for a little bit.

he does so at once. the mixed release of both you and him from previous rounds leak out of you as he does so, and your pussy twitches around absolutely nothing. 

immediately, you frown. it’s small, cute, almost, and then your hands search for his cock again. though, this time, the position he (very purposefully) put you in makes it difficult—satoru fights off a grin as you scrunch your nose in dissatisfaction. 

“. . .’toru,” you mumble, and attempt to grab him again. your voice is hoarse, broken from the sweet noises you’ve made for him so far. “wh—what’re you doing?”

“hm?” he hums. 

a little smile settles on his lips as he prods your entrance with his tip, smearing the cum—most of it his—along your puffy folds. he toys with your pussy, the squelching sounds as he moves his cock near your cunt (but never quite in it) feeling like absolute music to his ears.

he hears you sniff. “. . .’toru,” you mumble, voice a soft whine. you try moving closer to him, to push yourself down on him, but he simply pushes your thighs harder against your chest. “please, j—just. . .”

satoru fakes a dramatic sigh. “you’re so spoiled,” he comments, and relishes in the way your eyes roll back as he slides back in all at once. “so, incredibly spoiled.” he tuts, starting his thrusts again. he brings his face closer to yours, as if it’d make him hear all your pitiful sounds better. “can’t even go a second without my cock, can you? ‘t slips out for a second, and my pretty girl’s already whining.” 

he doesn’t get a proper response out of you, but that’s okay. he doesn’t need to. there’s no sweeter sound than your fucked-out babbles, anyway.

and they often sound even sweeter after he temporarily deprives you of his cock. 

satoru smirks as he looks down at you.

no, he’s definitely not stopping this any time soon. 

Currently Thinking About. . .

© MADE BY SANATOMIS — please, refrain from stealing, copying, or reposting any of my works.

1 year ago

I’m not a big Katsuki fan, but this made me feel a warm in my chest ❤️‍🩹

Motherly Love

Bakugou x fem!reader

a/n: REUPLOADED FROM OLD BLOG. A comfort Drabble…

Motherly Love

“Katsuki? What’s wrong? It’s three AM. This better be important,” Mitsuki’s voice is heavy with sleep and annoyance but under the tone is worry.

Katsuki sighs. “No uhh…nothin’s wrong. I’m safe and stuff it’s fine,” he mutters into the receiver.

Mitsuki is a lot of things: stubborn,loud, aggressive, determined, fastidious. But one thing she is not, is an idiot. Which is why she knows, despite her son calling her at three AM and saying he’s ok she knows he’s not.

“Katsuki?” She repeats, gentler this time. She can’t remember the last time she spoke this gently to him. Perhaps when he was two and learning to walk. She’d spoke softly “It’s alright Katsuki. Come on get up, try again.”

She hears him sigh again, hears his bed creak, hears him lick his lips and if she’s not mistaken the sound of light snoring in the background.

So he’s found someone. That’s nice. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t worry about that. About him being too undesirable. She’d have taken full responsibility for that. But he isn’t and she makes a mental note to thank whoever it is that chose to be with her boy.

If he ever brings them to meet her that is.

“I uhh…I just wanted ta say thanks,” Katsuki grumbles and Mitsuki audibly gasps. This is very new.

Who is this man and what has he done with her son?

“You called…at three AM to say thank you? For umm..for what exactly? I don’t remember sending anything in the mail. Your birthday is still a few months away! I still have time to get a gift I’m not late like your father sugge—“

“No it ain’t…” he takes a deep breath in and out and again Mitsuki gasps. He’s trying to calm himself down. That’s also new. “It ain’t that. I just wanted to say thanks for bein’ my Ma.” He finishes the sentence in a rush.

And then it’s quiet on both ends of the line as mother and son sit in disbelief on the phone. And then Mitsuki clears her throat.

“Oh well…umm…you’re welcome. Thanks for being a dynamite kid…” she chuckles and when he doesn’t say anything she tacks on “Get it? Cuz your hero name?”

She’s gracious when he finally chuckles. “You’re such a dork Ma,” he says through a tired whispered laugh.

“If I’m a dork, then so are you. That’s how genetics work,” she fires back.

It’s quiet again before she swallows a lump in her throat and plucks up the courage to ask him.

“Where did this come from Katsuki?”

He sighs again, the bed creaks again and this time the snoring is louder in Mitsuki’s ear. He must’ve moved closer to the sleeping person.

“Just…I got someone…someone who’s really fucking good and I got lucky when she chose me but uhh…tonight she told me somethin’ and I don’t know…after she told me and I saw her…saw her kinda crumple into herself or something. Like she uhh…like she broke. You ever see a person break?” He asks.

Mitsuki nods as she listens intently, then fumbles when she realizes he can’t actually see her nodding. “Yeah uhh…loads of models during fashion week. It’s a nightmare for them. I’ve had to talk a few off the edge,” she explains with a dark chuckle.

“Yeah…well picture that but like watching it happen to Dad,” Katsuki mutters. Mitsuki’s breath catches in her throat. Just the thought of seeing her husband, the light in her life, her Masaru, broken like that makes her put a hand over her chest as it aches.

“I see,” is all she replies back.

“Anyway, after she told me I just…knew I needed ta call ya. So yeah… I just wanted ta say thanks…or whatever.”

Katsuki finishes his sentence and Mitsuki hears a soft smack of lips as he kisses the woman he’s sleeping with. She sighs, and Mitsuki can hear her murmur his name sweetly in her sleep. Her voice sounds lovely, sweet enough to melt her prickly son’s demeanor.

Mitsuki smiles to herself, and then she hears Katsuki yawn. “You should get some rest Katsuki,” she says motherly.

“Yeah yeah I will. Sorry for wakin’ ya,” he grumbles.

“Before you go…” Mitsuki says quickly.

“Yeah?”

“Bring her for dinner, next weekend. Your father will make your favorite,” she requests.

Katsuki stays quiet for a while, no doubt he’s contemplating whether he’s ready for his partner to meet his mother but then he sighs.

“Yeah…yeah ok fine. I mean…she could use some motherly love.”

Motherly Love
6 months ago

“it’s not that bad, baby, can’t we just try again?”

virgin!satoru looks up at you from where his chin rests on your stomach, though you aren’t sure you can call him a virgin anymore. he holds your thighs apart, your sore pussy on sweet display for him. he presses a gentle kiss to your clit, which pulls a moan from you, but you stand strong.

“no way,” you shake your head. “absolutely fucking not. you’re… way too big.”

satoru grins, “thank you!”

“i’m not complimenting you, asshole,” you try and shift away from him, but gojo has your hips pressed into the mattress. “it hurts, toru. it’s too much.”

another kiss to your clit. “but she’s so needy for me,” he whines. “cant you see? so fucking wet… she can take me.”

“i can’t. it won’t fit.”

you didn’t think his pretty baby-blues could darken, but they do. satoru, your sweetheart, nips at your clit—only barely, but enough to make you gasp.

“you will,” he says, voice low. “i’ll make it fit.”

you can’t deny it, his tone only makes you even needier. you write under his grip, and his tongue darts out to lick his lips—he’s appraising you, studying his prey before bouncing. and he’s the virgin.

“oh, and after i fuck you, can we go get sushi?”

you blink at him. “what?”

“you know,” he scoots himself up and taps the head of his aching cock against your clit a few times. “to celebrate making it fit.”

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candyeyedoll - Candy Eye Doll 𓆩♡︎𓆪
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