─➤ Toji Fushiguro As Your Roommate

─➤ Toji Fushiguro as your roommate

╰┈➤ Toji Fushiguro x fem!reader

— Masturbation, jealous Toji, slight thigh riding, use of ‘princess’, creampie, unprotected sex.

— Link to roommate!Nanami

Roommate!Toji is a relatively modest man, who barely articulates but is always assisting you around the home, even offering he cooks sometimes to which you had begun to consider that you had discovered the best roommate, oblivious to the fact that your new roommate has quite the attraction towards you.

“Thank you Toji, you’re a big help around here!”

Keep reading

Satoru is soooo friends to lover

tysm for the support, i want to start writing other characters so lmk who i should write! ps. ignore any typos :/

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just think about it, that disgusting slow burn, like as you gradually grow with him. he knows you like the back of hand, he knows you.

he knows when youre upset, or when youre uncomfortable because you bite the inside of your cheek, and your eyebrows slightly furrow.

and he knows when he should step up and back down. He'll let you have your space if you ask for it but he also knows you need someone to lean on, and if thats hititng his chest angrily, crying on his shoulder, ranting your ass off, hell be there.

Satoru took a liking to you because, for once in his life, someone saw him. Not the prodigy, not the heir to the Gojo legacy—just Satoru, your best friend.

you never treated him any differently, even when everyone else put him on a pedestal. You were the one person who kept him grounded, and he didn’t even realize when he started falling for you.

maybe it was the way you’d laugh at his stupid jokes, or the way you’d roll your eyes at his antics but still always have his back. Maybe it was the way you challenged him, called him out when no one else dared to. Or maybe it was just… you.

and how could you not fall for him, too? He’s Satoru, your best friend who defends you no matter what, who lets you see parts of him no one else does. The one who’d do anything for you—even if you told him to jump off a cliff, he’d probably ask, “How high?”

but there’s always been this line between you, this unspoken agreement to keep things platonic. Until… it starts to crack.

it starts with the little things—like the way his jaw tightens when you talk about your dates, or how he goes suspiciously quiet when you get dolled up for some guy he already knows is a waste of your time. He hates seeing you walk out the door, knowing the night will only end with you disappointed yet again.

and when you come storming back, heels in hand, muttering, “You would not believe the nerve this guy had,” Gojo’s sitting on the couch, grinning like he knew it all along. Of course he did. The guy probably asked to split the bill or talked about himself the whole night. Gojo always hated the way these guys never saw you the way he did.

because if you were on a date with him, you wouldn’t need to bring a purse. He wouldn’t even let you think about paying. He’d take care of everything, because he’s just that guy.

but he knows he can’t—he shouldn’t. It’s a line he’s not supposed to cross, no matter how badly he wants to.

and yet… he catches himself thinking about the way your eyes light up when you look at him. Those big, doe eyes that make his heart stutter in his chest.

he hates when you’re mad at him, but at the same time, you look so cute when you’re all fired up that he can’t help but push your buttons, just to see you pout.

he'll beg for your forgiveness afterward, of course, but there’s a part of him that loves how your attention is all on him, even if it’s because you’re annoyed.

his feelings are a fragile balance, always sitting just at the edge of his tongue.

it only took one moment—one crack—and it all spilled out. He told you everything. How much you mean to him, how the thought of a life without you is unbearable.

and now that you’re officially his girlfriend, it’s like a dam has broken. He wants to spend every waking moment with you, like he needs you to fill his lungs, his thoughts, his everything. He needs you bad.

and, it’s no surprise to anyone—not Shoko, not Geto, not Nanami. They all saw it coming from a mile away. Everyone knew. Everyone but you.

1K notes View Post

withloveevv

3 years ago

MHA men and their guilty pleasure!

Synopsis: MHA men x guilty pleasure

➷Characters: Denki, Bakugo, Kirishima, Shoto, Dabi

➷ CW. F! Reader, aged up characters, dacryphilia, sadism lmao, electrostimulation, cnc(?), minimum prep, branding, degradation, praise, choking, size kink, corruption kink, dirty talk. mdni.

➷ Note: idk what this is, I was just entertaining yoko till she went bacc to sleep... Now hab this before I go to watch the new demon slayer episode😌 not proofread lmao

#tags. @yesitsmewhataboutit

Reblogs and interactions are appreciated!!

Denki Kaminari

With your legs quivering on his shoulders, Denki lost track of his powers. Soft jolts of golden electricity flowed from his fingers to your thighs where he gripped the soft flesh as he accidentally zaps you. But the way you clench around him— his eyes are blown out with realization and lust. He feels bad that his cock throbs inside your warm cunt at the little tears pebbling in your eyes.

His eyes roll back and mouth falls open in a breathless curse when he feels you clench even harder as his fingers tap a little jolt into your swollen clit.

"Fuck just like that, baby, cum f'me, you fucking love it when I zap your cute little clit, don't you?"

Katsuki Bakugo

It's no secret that he's a sadist. But he loves to fuck you with minimum prep. Seeing you squirm under him, beg him to slow down, it's just a massive turn on for him. Bakugo's favorite is your little cries of 'Suki please, 's too much turning into incoherent babbling as you start drooling because his cock keeps assaulting that spot inside you till you're creaming on his cock.

Besides, you got your safe word, so it's not like you dont want this. He knows that you not so secretly enjoy it when he manhandles you into taking his cock before he fucks you dumb.

"Weren't you saying it's too much not a while ago? Then why are you cumming already?"

Eijorou Kirishima

Everytime your hands push at his broad chest and you huff with a meek,"Kiri, too big, won't fit-" He coos at you, soft praises of how you're doing so well for him but in reality, he knows it's at least a bit painful for you. And he hates the rush of arousal to his dick at the thought of you whimpering from the slight burn when he shoves his huge cock in your tight little hole.

Kiri is soon stuttering because his head reels from feeling your slick walls clamp down on him. Your little whispers tuning off into breathless moans with each hard thrust from him.

"It's alright, baby. You're so good for me, now shhh take it all, yea'?"

Shoto Todoroki

"Sho' please, need ya' to fuck me till I pass out." Shoto's chest swells in pride as he urges you to say the filthy stuff you want him to do to you. When you look up at him with innocent doe eyes but the words spilling from your tongue is anything but that. He loves to corrupt your body, soul and mind. A rosy tint spreads on his cheeks at your words.

He rubs his cock at your entrance, teasing by dipping just the tip. Heterochromatic eyes observe as your greedy cunt pulsates in need, swallowing his cock.

"Go on baby, tell me, where do u need my cock?Here?"

Dabi

He wants you all desperate, taking his cock like a good girl. He'll edge you before finally fucking you, this way you'll be an obedient little whore for him. And just as you are about to cum, his hand wraps around your neck like a collar, "Do u wanna cum or breathe?" He heaves hastily, cock twitching from how you look at him with wide eyes and your hands claw at his wrist.

His other hand placed on your thigh heats up when you gulp fresh air just as soon as he let's go of your throat, "Bad girl," He's gonna leave a hand mark on your thigh, you're sure of it from how your skin stings from the blue fire.

"You don't deserve to cum. Maybe I should just leave after fucking this slutty pussy."

2022 © all content belongs to druighoney. Do not repost my work anywhere.

5K notes View Post

withloveevv

3 years ago

Hello! first, I apologize if there is something that is not understood 😔English is not my first language uwu Second, I love your blog and your writing 💞💞, I don't know if you are recibing ideas, but it would be nice to see an tattoo artist!eren 🤤🥵🥵 that shows you the most delicate and sensitive parts of the body where you can get a tattoo 😳😳😳

Cute

A/N: This was just a dumb and cute drabble I wrote up ok have fun lol

Length: 3.3k

CW: Eren thinks reader is fucking adorable ok love that for him, mention of needles (cause tattoo), oral (f receiving)

ALSO! Don’t forget to vote on which story you’d like to see a part two of 💕

Hello! First, I Apologize If There Is Something That Is Not Understood 😔English Is Not My First Language

You’re staring at the ceiling, anxiously fidgeting your fingers at your sides and swinging your feet as you lay back against the plush leather chair. You’re alone in one of the rooms at the local tattoo shop, waiting for the tattoo artist to begin working on you. It’s the first time you’re getting a tattoo, a small one to match your best friend’s tattoo, placed on the right side of your ribcage.

The tattoo artist, whom you were told by the blonde receptionist is named Eren, hasn’t shown yet and with each passing second your anxiety only gets worse.

Then soon enough he does show, and it only makes you more nervous.

After he comes inside the room, he stands by your chair, tall and muscular with long brown hair and the prettiest green eyes you’ve ever seen. He’s wearing a black t-shirt with the tattoo shop’s logo paired with black jeans, and his arms are covered in various tattoos – there doesn’t seem to be any kind of theme, a mixture of symbols, animals, skulls, even some cartoon characters and superheroes. He’s had a lot of work done on him and it shows. It makes you feel just a bit lame, to be so nervous over one silly tattoo.

“Hey, my name’s Eren,” he starts, looking you down from head to toe. He thinks you’re cute, pretty even. Your anxiety over the incoming tattoo is even more adorable, he thinks with a grin.

He sticks out his hand above your chest as a greeting and you place your palm in his, giving it a weak shake as you tell him your name. It makes him laugh, a deep chuckle as he lets go of your hand.

“You’re shaking,” he comments, “Relax, it won’t be so bad.”

He washes his hands in the sink in the corner of the room thoroughly with warm water and soap. After drying them, he turns around to begin gathering his tools and inks. He has a tray on wheels that he places next to your chair where he places down the inks, ink cups, and needles. You can also see that he places a razor and a damp cloth off to the side. The whole set up almost reminds you of a dentist’s office, only the color palette is dark and grungy, and you’ll be feeling a lot more pain than a simple cleaning.

“It’s my first tattoo,” you tell him sheepishly between the clattering of his supplies.

He turns around and quirks an eyebrow, “First tattoo and you pick right above your ribs? That’s brave.”

He snaps on a pair of blue nitrile gloves, and reaches for the razor.

“Is the ribs a bad place to tattoo?” You asked curiously.

“Well… it hurts, not gonna lie to you,” he says, and he lifts his t-shirt to show you his own tattoo on his ribs. It’s very beautiful, an intricate design of colors surrounding a bird, but you only glance at it for a moment, distracted by this man’s chiseled chest and washboard abs. You turn away, heat rising to your cheeks. He takes note of your bashfulness but continues with, “This one hurt like a bitch, to be honest.”

“That’s not doing much to help me feel better,” you mutter as Eren takes a seat on a rolling stool beside you.

He chuckles, “Sorry. Jus’ being honest.”

You turn to him and the both of you are just staring at each other for a while, until Eren laughs again.

“Your top.”

You snap out of your staring contest with those pretty emeralds of his to realize he’s telling you to take your shirt off.

“Right. Sorry.”

You lift your back up off the leather chair, just enough to peel off your shirt from your torso. You bring it over your head and Eren’s treated to the lovely sight of your clothed breasts. It’s not the first time he’s tattooed a woman’s chest, maybe not even the hundredth, but you’re really attractive and he’s a man, what can he do but stare?

You feel your skin growing warm under his gaze, and you realize as he continues to stare with that shit-eating grin that he meant your bra too. You reach behind your back but at the chair’s angle it's hard to take it off.

“Need help?”

“Yeah, okay.”

He leans over you, a gloved hand pressing to your back to find the clip of your bra. It’s cool to the touch and your body gets startled at the contact. Plus, his face is really close and he smells really good.

“Cold?” he asks as he pinches the clasp open. Your bra sags over your shoulders.

“Yeah, just a little,” you reply, a bit of a nervous titter to your voice. You slip your arms out of the bra and now your chest is completely exposed. You lie back and stare at the ceiling, unable to meet his gaze.

“I’m gonna shave the spot where the tattoo goes,” he tells you as he brings the razor close to your chest, “Needa do it so the hair doesn’t get in the way.”

You nod and affirm his actions with a low hum. His left hand comes up to the underside of your breast, and he holds it away as his other hand begins to shave your skin below it. It’s cold and it’s prickly, and you wince with each swipe of the razor against your skin. Eren’s brows are furrowed in concentration and he looks quite endearing with his tongue poking out between his teeth. You want to laugh but don’t, for fear that your chest shaking with laughter would interrupt his work.

He catches you grinning though, eyes turning up to you as he asks, “Got a joke you wanna share with the class, doll?” His voice is full of mirth, only because he finds you really cute.

“It’s nothing…just thinking of something a friend told me,” you lie, and hope it sounds convincing.

It doesn’t, but Eren lets it slide.

He wipes away at your skin with a damp cloth after setting down the razor. Then, he picks up the sheet with the stencil and holds it in front of the location for your tattoo.

His eyes quickly flicker towards your face, as you eagerly await for him to continue. Nervousness has molded into a mixture of fear and anticipation, your nerves still on edge but set to a low frequency thanks to Eren’s calm and honest nature.

He wipes at your skin with the damp cloth once more before setting down the stencil against your skin. He peels away the background paper, leaving a purple etching of what’s to become your tattoo. He allows you a moment to stand up and look in the mirror, to see for the last time how your virgin canvas will look once it’s painted. And he smiles, as he always does whenever a customer approves, as your nervous expression becomes one of excitement.

“It looks great,” you say to his reflection.

“Let’s get started then, yeah?” He says, and you’re back into the black dentist-style chair in the room. Soon the small room is filled with the noise of the tattoo machine and the sounds of Eren’s preparations. In front of you he begins to open the sterile packages for the materials. He sets aside a cup of clean water and some ointment. When everything for the tattoo is ready, he sits back down on the stool and checks with you one final time.

“It’s a small tattoo, won’t take long. It’ll be over before you know it,” he says reassuringly, jade eyes surprisingly calm and gentle. He doesn’t want to worry you, though he knows it will be painful.

You nod silently as he rubs some ointment on your skin. You feel like you’re at the top of the first drop on a rollercoaster, a mixture of fear and excitement buzzing throughout your body.

He grips the tattoo gun in his hand and dips into the black ink, before his other hand comes to your breast once more to hold it away. One last look at you, a silent ‘Ready?’ spoken from his gaze, is quelled by your smile and a single nod from your head.

He begins the tattoo and he wasn’t kidding when he said that shit hurt.

“Deep breaths,” he tells you as he traces the lines of your tattoo. “You’ll get used to it, just relax.”

You do as he says, taking a deep breath and steeling your nerves, your body’s reaction to the pain in the form of your clenched fists at your sides. The tattoo is rather small and simple, and the tracework doesn’t take very long. You ask questions here and there about Eren’s experience tattooing, and about the process and some of the more intricate work he’s done, and he answers all your questions eagerly and honestly. Having conversation with him is quite nice, you find it, though sometimes it’s hard to meet his gaze because he’s just so damn good-looking. But thanks to his distracting conversation and his alluring smiles, by the end of it you’re becoming dull to the painful pinching and stabbing of the needle, and the only thing that hurts is your chest from your heart beating so quickly within it.

When he wipes away at the lines, he smiles up at your weary face, “You did great, champ. Just gotta do the shading. Take a break for a minute while I switch needles.”

He taps your bare thigh with his palm before he stands to switch out the supplies. You relax into the chair, your skin stinging with the pain but otherwise you feel okay. From what you’ve heard, the shading tends to be quite painful too, so you don’t feel like you’re quite out of the woods yet.

The tattoo is a simple black and white, so he doesn’t need to worry about changing and blending several colors, which makes it an easier experience for you. All he does is switch the needle to a mag needle and dips it in the black once more.

“This part will hurt but it’s quick, promise,” he says, watching as your body tenses up again against the chair. You nod and he begins the quick shading work, and holy fuck does shading over your ribs hurt. You’re wincing in pain but otherwise you sit through it, this time in silence as Eren concentrates on the shading.

It’s over quickly, as he promised. “Not so bad was it?” He asks. But the frown on your face proves otherwise.

“That hurt so bad,” you whined comically and he laughed.

“Sorry, angel. Pick an easier spot next time,” he says as he applies the dressings to your tattoo. When it's wrapped up, you look up at him directly. He’s removing his gloves and pushing away the tray with the supplies. When he turns around, his gaze is unreadable. Not that you can get a glimpse into his head, but he's having thoughts and those thoughts concern you.

“So… for next time… which spots do you recommend?” You ask him.

He takes a seat back down on the stool next to you. His eyes dance between your bare chest, your plump wet lips, and your cute innocent-looking doe eyes peering back at him. He’s giving you a look that’s turning more heated with every second. Eren’s whole being seems to perk up at the words ‘next time’.

“You should get a tattoo wherever you want to, but in terms of the pain…” he reaches out a hand to rub down your arms, “Your arms are the easiest – they’re the least sensitive,” then he brushes over your thighs. His palms are warm, his touch is slow and purposeful, “Your thighs too, that's a place that doesn’t hurt much.”

You swallow harshly. “So…So where are the most sensitive parts? What should I avoid?”

His hand is still on your thigh, and he feels you squirming as your tongue darts out to lick your bottom lip before tugging it into your teeth. You couldn’t be more obvious about it, but he doesn’t mind. He thinks it’s all the more endearing that you’re being so obvious with your attraction to him.

“Well,” he scoots over towards your feet. You’re wearing flip flops because it’s a hot summer day, and his hands graze over your bare skin, “The feet are the worst. It hurts and it fades, definitely don't do those.”

You nod as he comes back closer to your chest, “Where else?”. You sit up in the chair, and swing your legs to the side so you’re facing him. He scoots closer, spreading his legs so yours are in between his.

“Well the tattoo you just did is one of the worst,” he says, and his hand skips over your raw tattoo, starting at the sternum between your breasts, before slowly tracing up to your throat. He’s deliberately dragging two fingers up against your skin, and relishes in the way you shiver in response. “This whole area’s terrible too. Right above all those bones. Hurts like hell.”

“I’ll remember not to tattoo there,” you reply, and you want to smile, but the way he’s staring at you is so intense your eyes drag down to his lips.

“There’s a couple more spots I can show you,” he says, and it sounds like an invitation.

“Where else, Eren?”

He cups a palm around the back of your neck and brings you closer. “Neck’s pretty painful, though it’s not the worst.” He continues to pull you closer, until you can feel his breath above your lips, “Here’s pretty bad though,” he whispers, capturing your lips for a kiss. He’s not surprised at all when you kiss him back. He pulls away with a smirk, “Lips are really bad.”

“Are they?” You ask, voice going soft as you recover from the daze he’s left you in.

“Yeah,” he leans in again, and tugs your bottom lip between his teeth, before dousing the flame across its surface with his tongue. “Really painful.”

“I’ll–ah–I’ll remember that,” you stutter, because Eren’s lips trace down the path from your lips to your sternum, all patches of skin that would hurt like a bitch to tattoo. His breath is so warm against your skin, which was cool because of the rather chilly room you were in. He left goosebumps behind on each patch of skin his lips touched.

“Here too,” he murmurs as his lips traverse the skin leading to your navel, “Tattoos here are awful.”

His hands rest on your knees, while yours card through his hair. There’s definitely a few more places he hasn’t shown you, but the most important one is the one he wishes to show you now.

“There’s one more, baby,” he says, his face right above your stomach, looking up at you with those fiery green eyes behind the lengths of his brown lashes. “One more place you definitely shouldn’t get tattooed. If you’ll let me show you.”

Your breath hitches in your throat as his fingers hook on either side of your shorts.

“Show me.”

Your body briefly lifts up from the leather chair as he pulls down your shorts, down over your knees and right off once they are past your ankles. He grins devilishly when he spots your panties, darkened with your wetness.

“Someone’s an eager student, hm?” He teases, and by instinct you move to close your legs. But he pushes them apart, resting the back of your knees in the crevice of his elbows, leaning down to place kisses along your inner thighs. “Definitely don’t get one here,” he murmurs against your skin.

You nod, whimpers leaving your throat as he gets closer and closer to your center. When he reaches the skin where your pussy meets your thighs, he licks a stripe up the surface. He pushes you slightly back gently, your thighs now being lifted by his strong arms, and your palms behind your back on the chair to support you. You lean back, your fresh tattoo still stinging a bit, but otherwise you're completely enraptured in this moment with Eren.

Eren hooks a finger under your panties, pushing the fabric aside and tucking it right where he had licked you. Your cunt glistens under the parlor’s lights, slick dripping down your heat, and Eren licks his lips in anticipation.

“You’re so wet, doll…want me to touch you?” he asks, and you nod at his inquiry of consent.

“Yes, please,” you reply, and he can see you’re clenching around nothing. He gives you the touch you so crave by pressing his tongue against your clit, a groan escaping his throat at the taste. He flicks his tongue over your bud several times, and it is then that you note he has a tongue piercing. The cool titanium adds pressure and cools your heat, a sensation you’ve never felt before.

“Eren–that’s–”

“Hm?” he hums against your cunt, sending vibrations through your skin. He realizes, when he presses his tongue against you again, that you’re reeling in reaction to his piercing on your skin. He only smirks, pressing it further between your lips and onto your clit. You’re trying your best to keep quiet (there are others just outside the room, afterall), but your voice is ever so gradually picking up with each time that you moan out Eren’s name.

He slips a finger inside of you as his tongue clamps down on your clit. One of your hands that was behind you on the chair comes up to his hair, and you grab some of his brown locks, pushing him further into you. He doesn’t mind, only picks up the pace of his sucking and licking, sounds becoming more loud and lewd with each passing second.

After the addition of a second finger, the pumping turning into squelching sounds, you feel your orgasm starting to take form in your core.

“Eren, I’m gonna–”

He curls his fingers inside you, brushing that lovely spongy spot inside that has you clenching tight around his digits. He doesn’t let up with his tongue either, and quickly you’re cumming on his fingers, with a loud sob that you hope and pray no one else in the shop heard.

“Good girl,” he says, suckling on his fingers as your chest heaves from your panting. “You taste so sweet,” he says, his voice low as he groans in satisfaction. He leans down and laps up whatever release has dripped down your skin, overstimulation threatening to hit your nerves, but he stops before you could even begin to wince.

You take a deep breath of air, “That was…”

“Good?” He asks with a grin, teetering somewhere between boyish and mischievous. He sets your legs back onto the chair and holds up your shorts for you along with your shirt and bra.

“Yeah… it was good,” you manage to say, embarrassment causing heat to rise to your face and steam to pour out your ears. Eren catches himself laughing again at you, because even after that you are being so damn cute.

You step into your shorts. As you put your top back on, you give Eren a questioning look. Turns out he’d said that last part out loud.

“You think I’m cute?” You ask.

He rises out of the stool to stand before you, and he shoots you a grin. “Yeah…not just think, I know so.”

Eren tacks on an invitation to that statement, asking you out on a date. After you accept, and after he tells you some final instructions for tattoo care and bids you on your way, he walks with you to the exit of the private room. Just before you go, with your hand on the doorknob, he says lowly, just for you to hear:

“Maybe next time I can teach you a little something about piercings.”

“Piercings? Not just the one on your tongue?”

With a wink he says, “I have quite a few more… in places that aren’t so visible.”

And your reaction to that? That was definitely the cutest thing Eren’s ever seen.

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Haikyu men thinking of you while masturbating - Part 2

NSFW / Minors don't interact / female reader

Summary: This is the second part for timeskip Suna, Iwaizumi and Kuroo. Hope you like it and let me know what you think :)

Rintarou Suna

He feels them on his body again; these eyes. They are fixed on him as he gets out of the swimming pool, he practically feels them burning on him. Suna turns his head into your direction and you stare right back at him, peeking over your book. Your eyes widen in surprise as you realize that you’ve just been caught staring. You quickly avert your gaze, moving your book to shield your face from his gaze. He tries to keep his expression blank, but he can’t help a small, cocky smile tugging at his lips at your cute reaction.

He makes his way to his chair, which is placed just a few meters away from yours. And if you were the one staring before, it’s now his turn. You continue reading, or maybe you’re just pretending to, he's not sure. Suna observes you, his green eyes hungry. This isn’t the first time he has ogled you since you were laying there. But this time, he is shameless.

His narrow eyes are trained on your face as he watches you nibble on your bottom lip, a slight frown painted on your face. Your lips look so plush and soft. His gaze drops lower, noticing the way a single droplet of water runs down your chest, along your exposed cleavage. He notices your beautiful tummy, your gorgeous waist, your pretty legs. Your body is wet and slippery. He wonders how soft your skin would feel against his palms, as his hands smooth over your curves.

And as Rinatrou watches you, warmth spreads through his body. He gazes at your delicate hands holding your book. He is curious as to what else they can do. How would they feel tangled in his hair, holding onto him as you would pull him closer? How would your lips feel on his, kissing him, tasting each other?

He wants to tease you by biting your bottom lip softly, just like you do now. Fuck, he can’t seem to get his eyes away from you. He’s full on staring, imagining things, vast lewd scenarios. Suna swallows hard, his mouth is getting dry.

Then you turn your head, catching his eyes. Suna is completely caught off guard. He sure as hell wasn’t prepared for locking eyes with you. Suddenly, he is painfully aware of his heart pounding against his chest, fast and hard. And then a small smile spreads across your face, your eyes glinting with amusement. Oh my god.

He isn’t capable of returning your smile, he just peers at you. You’re truly breathtaking. He keeps on staring right into your captivating eyes.

Fuck, why does he feel so hot all of a sudden? He was just cooling off in the water. After a few seconds, which feel like lifetimes for Rintarou, you turn your head back, concentrating on your book. And he does the same, staring ahead of him. But he doesn’t even perceive what is going on around him.

He just notices arousal cursing through his body, making it hard for him to concentrate on anything other than you. But he ignores you sternly. And then it dawns on him, that his usual cool exterior can’t be hold up anymore. Not when he feels blood rushing down to his cock.

Suna quickly gets up, taking long strides to the changing rooms. Fuck, this really can’t be happening right now. Well, now he isn’t that cocky anymore.

He quickly shuts the door of the changing room behind him. He leans against the door, letting out a deep breath. His eyes travel down his body. Yeah, that’s bad. His dick is now full on straining against his trunks. He rubs his hand over his face, pushing his wet hair back. He has to take care of that. Now. Luckily the room is empty, so it’s now or never.

Rintarou sighs as he tugs his trunks down. His cock springs free, right into his hand, urging to get a release. Some strands of his brown hair hang into his field of vision, as he watches his fist dragging up and down his shaft. He can already see pre-cum leaking from his slit. Did you bewitch him or something?

He drags his thumb over his slit, spreading his cum. He throws his head back, a quiet grunt falling from his lips. Suna imagines you being here with him. He sees your body next to him, wet and slippery as his hands would slide up your sides, grabbing your ass, your thighs, your breasts. Your wet hair framing your face beautifully, as your eyes look at him pleadingly.

These fucking eyes. What could he discover in them, when you have your lips wrapped around his fingers, your tongue dancing around his fingertips. His other fingers buried deep in your pussy, thrusting into you painfully slow. “Messy girl” he breathes, as he imagines your arousal dripping down his hand. Suna is so wrapped up in his fantasy, the thought of someone trying to enter the room doesn’t even cross his mind. The faint possibility of it only heightens his lust.

Rintarou visualizes sinking his thick dick into your soaking hole, fucking you against the door, your thighs wrapped around his waist. Such a filthy girl, having sex in a public changing room. He suppresses a groan falling from his parted mouth, as his pace increases. He imagines you sucking his fingers again, desperately trying to muffle your whimpers and moans from spilling.

He pumps faster into his swollen tip, his hips bucking, thrusting into his fist. After a few thrust his orgasm washes over him. He cums with a staggered groan, his cum shooting out of him as he imagines cumming deep inside of you, as you clench around him, milking him dry.

Suna still pants heavily as he snaps out of his daze. He comes back into the here and now, realizing what just happened. Fuck, this might be the fastest time he has ever managed to cum.

Hajime Iwaizumi

And there you are again; Tuesday evening, as usual. Iwaizumi would lie to himself if he said he didn’t wait for you. He actually picked up a habit; going to the gym when he guesses you will be there as well.

He has seen you a few times, always looking stunning. He tries his best not to stare; there are already enough men staring at you without him. But he can’t help himself, his eyes automatically searching for you.

Today, you’re wearing tight leggings and a skimpy sports bra. Shit; it will be hard for him to concentrate on his training.

Hajime tries to ignore you, continuing his training. He lifts his weighs, does his pull-ups and deadlifts. But between every of his sets his gaze flickers to you. He tries to look respectfully. But when you start doing squats, he doesn’t know if he still looks respectfully.

His eyes are fixed on your figure as you dip down. Your ass. He really has no words. Iwaizumi can’t help wondering how it would look bare, without the bothering excuse of pants.

He reaches for his water bottle, his eyes still fixed on your form. He gulps down water, some dripping down his chin, staining his shirt. He doesn’t even notice, his gaze now trailing over your features. It doesn’t matter how many times he looks at you; your eyes still take his breath away. They are bright and beautiful. And - oh my god - they stare right back at him. He meets your piercing gaze. Shit, when did you turn your head!?

He nearly chokes on his water. Iwaizumi feels his cheeks burning, his chest tightening. Fuck. He lowers the bottle from his lips in slow-motion. This is so embarrassing. Wait - are you laughing at him? Uhm… yes. You are.

You are … smiling at him? He feels his chest warming up. Your smile is so sweet. He tries his best to return it, but he isn’t sure if any of his face muscles obey his will. And then it’s over. You turn your head again and concentrate on your work-out. Iwaizumi gives his best to follow your example, but now he is all over the place. Shit. What did you do to him?

A frown is painted on his face for the rest of his workout. He doesn’t dare to look at you anymore. When he is finished, he heads straight to the changing room. And that is when his eyes catch you again. But this time you’re behind the large glass window, in one of the class rooms. Is this - You’re attending a yoga class? His eyes goes wide. This is new. And he likes it. No. He loves it.

Hajime stands on the edge of the window, your back turned to him. He is sure he is safely hidden from your sight. And it seems that you are totally wrapped up in your practice, that you wouldn’t notice anything. At least that is what he tells himself because his eyes can’t seem to leave your figure.

His gaze lingers on you, far, far too long. He drinks up every move of yours. How you bend and flow, your body twisting in every possible position. Wow. You’re quite flexible, Iwaizumi notes. This thought alone makes his mouth run dry. He knows it’s creepy, but the rational part of his brain has shut off since you flashed him your sweet smile. Your skin is painted with a sheen layer of sweat, making your skin glow.

With every passing minute the tension in his body rises, but Hajime can’t seem to get away. He feels heat traveling down to his cock, but instead of trying to leave he just stands there, glued to the spot, continuing to watch you. Only when he hears footsteps approaching behind him, he snaps out of it and gets going.

His hurried footsteps take him to the changing room. He can feel his erection straining against his trousers. He presses the heels of his palms against his eyes and curses silently to himself. Fuck. He isn’t a teenager anymore, why is he standing here with a raging erection? Why is this happening, now of all times? Luckily, the other men in the changing room don’t seem to notice.

Iwaizumi lets out a deep sigh. He has to do something about that. Now. He quickly moves towards the bathroom, closing the door of the bathroom stall behind him.

He tugs his pants and his boxer down in one pull. His cock springs free, throbbing to get his release. He lifts the hem of his shirt, biting down onto it, because he knows; he will have trouble to stay silent. Especially, when the images of you keep flooding his mind. He knows he can’t function, if he doesn’t spill them out of him. So he spits into his hand, gripping his thick dick tightly. He starts dragging his hand along the length of his cock, his half-lidded eyes fixed on his doing. But his mind is fixed on something else.

Hajime sees you, sticking up your ass, arching your back. Sweat dripping down your chest. He can’t help wondering how your beautiful ass would feel in his hand. Kneading it, spanking it, seeing waves ripple on it as he pounds into you from behind.

His other hand steadies him on the wall of the bathroom stall as he accelerate his pace, his biceps flexing. He imagines having his way with you in his bed; bending you into every form and position he pleases. The way your pussy would feel around him, as he would thrust into you. How you would pant and whimper when he fills you up.

His hand continues dragging along the length of his dick. His shirt luckily muffles the whimper escaping his mouth, when his thumb drags along his slit, feeling pre-cum slick against his finger.

Iwaizumi wonders how well you would take him, how tight your walls would wrap around him. How loud would you cry when he makes you cream around his cock? He can only imagine the sinful sounds falling from your lips, the lewd noise of your soaking pussy filling up his room.

The grip on his cock becomes stronger, his bicep flexes as he pumps faster. His other hand on the wall holds tighter, his head dipping low as his half-lidded eyes fixate on his fist.

He watches his hand stroking up and down his cock, concentrating on his sensitive tip. Iwaizumi imagines your ass in front of him, as he cums with a muffled groan. His hips jerk into his fist, as his hot cum shoots out of him, staining his hand and dripping down onto the floor as he pants heavily.

Oh how he wishes he could paint your ass with his spent instead. But what he longs even more for, is a private workout session. He’s sure he could make it worth your while.

Tetsurou Kuroo

“Shit” Kuroo mutters under his breath. A deep sigh slips from his lips as he drags his hand over his face. He looks at the time on his computer screen; it’s already a few minutes past midnight. And he still has so much work to do.

He would argue that this isn’t entirely his fault. Well, it is. But you’re also at fault. Because no matter how hard Tetsurou tries to concentrate, his mind always wanders back to you. This isn’t a new occurrence for him. But this time, he can’t seem to banish you from his mind. Because today, for the first time, he didn’t have to stare at you from afar, like he usually does. Today, after lusting over you since you started working with him, you were alone with him for a few minutes. Alone, right next to him in his office.

And when Tetsurou thinks about that moment, he is sure, he won’t be able to finish his work without getting these thoughts of you out of his head. He takes a deep breath, loosening his tie and tilting his head back against the chair. No. No, he really shouldn’t do this. A part of him knows it’s wrong, he shouldn’t think about a colleague in such a way.

Normally, Kuroo wouldn’t entertain such thoughts about a coworker. But it’s you. With you, oh with you, it’s different. For you, he would break any rule. He feels his blood run hot, lust cursing through his weary body. It’s already so late, his mind dull from working the whole day.

So he succumbs, his hand palming his already hardened dick through his pants. He hisses quietly and he swears, he can still smell your scent lingering in his office. Kuroo takes another deep breath and recalls earlier today.

The way you came into his office, your high heels clicking on the floor. Your beautiful long legs in your black tights. Fuck, this image alone could make him cum on the spot.

He knows it has no use trying to stop here. Not when he can practically still feel you being here in the room with him.

Kuroo opens his pants, pulling down his boxers, revealing his hard and throbbing dick. He takes his cock into his hand, stroking lazily up and down. He supposes the whole building is empty, so he doesn’t bother to suppress his low groan. His half-lidded eyes are trained on the spot where you stood earlier.

He sees you standing there again, in your tight skirt. The way you hunched over to show him something on his computer screen. He could appreciate your features from up close; your striking eyes looking at him questionably, if he understood everything. The way you moved a piece of hair over your shoulder.

His hand picks up the pace slightly, as his eyes drift shut. He could have taken you right then and there. His large hands grabbing you, pulling up your skirt, feeling on you. He could rip your tights apart, revealing your panties to him. Or maybe you’re wearing stockings underneath. At this thought alone, his impatient hand speeds up the pace; pumping hurriedly into his swollen tip.

Bending you over his desk, sinking into you, noticing how wet you are for him. And he knows - he just knows - that you like that; the possibility of people hearing you as he pounds into you.

And he just imagines the pretty sounds he could elicit your plush lips. Sweet moans and whimpers falling on his ears, as he does you so good, making you feel so satisfied. “Make some noise for me” Kuroo mutters, his hand squeezing harder around his throbbing cock, as more and more sinful pictures come into his mind.

Your ass jiggling with every thrust of his, your wrists wrapped in his tie, your back arched for him. His fist squeezes his cock tighter, his strokes getting faster.

And he just envisions how it’s not his hand but your pussy around him, spasming and fluttering around his pulsing length. A few deep groans fall from Kuroo’s parted lips as he feels his orgasm nearing. He focuses on his swollen tip until he cums hard with a low groan. His hips jerk shallowly, his thighs tensing, as his hot cum drips down his balls and onto his hand.

Oh, what he would give to see his cum dripping down your thighs instead, staining your stockings white.

©sweetdreamlandstuff

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withloveevv

3 months ago

best friend katsuki who starts finding himself getting a bit too flustered around you.

it starts with a hug.

you're so fucking dramatic, he thinks.

every time you see each other, you might as well be standing in the middle of an airport with the crowd split down the middle and fireworks going off in the background.

he'd never admit it, but he loves the theatrics. he loves the click between you when you lock eyes in a crowded room. he loves your "half-run" towards him and the hop you do right before you wrap your arms around his neck.

of course you two always get odd looks, because despite being best friends since childhood, and everyone knowing it, they still can't seem to understand how a person like you can get along with a person like him.

"you're choking me," he breathlessly chuckles, "ya missed me or something?"

"something like that." you murmur, the smile apparent in your voice.

katsuki stops breathing for a moment when his fingers sink into the soft skin of your waist and his palm goes flush against your bare lower back.

why the fuck is your shirt so short?

i should move my hand.

you're so warm.

i shouldn't be thinking about this.

he doesn't say anything, and he sure as hell isn't letting go first. instead, he buries his nose deeper into the crook of your neck, hoping that he could blame the blush blooming over his cheeks on the hot summer day.

"what's wrong?" you finally pull away, one hand locked on his shoulder and the other sliding down his bicep.

"what?"

his eyes lock onto your own. he's fighting the urge to trail his eyes down your body- see how that crop top looks from the front now that he knows how it feels.

"you seem weird."

"says the weirdo." he scoffs. "m'fine."

you roll your eyes, letting your hands drop to your side.

"come get a soda with me." you almost demand, starting to walk off knowing he'd follow close behind.

no one else in the world would dare speak to katsuki the way you do. he’d never allow it, but that attitude coming from you only had his heart racing even faster.

"you paying?"

"i have you to do that for me, don't i?"

you turn your head over your shoulder, flashing him that toothy grin of yours, and that's when katsuki knew for certain.

he was fucked.

6K notes View Post

withloveevv

2 months ago

Can't Touch Me (Like Gojo) - G.S.

Synopsis. In which intentionally making your fríend-with-benefíts jealous ends up with more benefits than you’d think.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, FWḂ! Gojo, slight Sukuna x reader, rough VERY jealous séx, Satoru goes feraI omg, unprotected, FWḂ-to-lovers, thígh riding, fíngering, creampíe, overstím, spítting, implied thréesome, he’s a bit mean and possessive, swearing.

Word count. 4.8k

A/N. Heheh, hoping y’all have a lovely week coming up <3

“-n’ there’s this really great café downtown with those cupcakes you like-”

“Toru.”

“-I’ll get ya some for that kick you need after a lecture with Yaga. Speaking of Yaga-”

“Toru-”

“-he’s the one in need of a kick. I swear, that man gave me a B on my presentation just because I caught him in the middle of his interpretive dance routine-”

“Satoru!”

At this, Satoru pauses in the middle of buckling up his jeans to throw a grave nod your way. “I know, right?” Promptly sauntering over to pick up his t-shirt from where it had been thrown onto your bedroom floor, “It gave me nightmares for a few days, too. Which is why we should go to that café tomorrow and then…”

You roll your eyes - partially out of frustration, partially out of necessity to rip your stare away from those sculpted shoulders on display. Decorated in angry, red scratches running down, down, down. Somehow, you manage to grit out, “Satoru I have a uh- date.”

And ah, was it a sight to behold - because, perhaps for the first time in the twenty-something years that Gojo Satoru has wreaked havoc on this planet, he’s stunned into silence.

Still very groggy from sleep, still very sinfully shirtless standing at the foot of your bed. His kiss-bitten lips fall slack as you plow on, “And it’s just- I can’t make it tomorrow night because he invited me to his party.”

Party? This was the first time you canceled one of your…appointments with your friend-with-benefits - and it was for some party? Satoru could do parties, too - much better ones than this loser, he’s sure. Ones that would actually warrant you bailing on him.

Shaking away the strange thoughts ringing in his mind, he spits, “Who?” Just about all he could get out now.

Whoever he was - it was true about the parties. Why would you want to waste any time going to something like that when Satoru was the one known for them on campus. Him and Suku-

“It’s Sukuna.”

“Oh.”

---

It was stupid - it was ridiculous. And you don’t know why Sukuna ever agreed to this scheme, but here you were, glued to his side like his favorite lil’ plaything for the night.

“What?” you shout for the nth time tonight, scooting closer on the couch. And you see his lips move, yet, to your frustration - despite being seated so flush against you - no sound comes out of them.

Whatever they say about Sukuna and Satoru’s parties were true - and then some. Because right now, it was so loud you could barely hear yourself think, let alone whatever Sukuna was talking about. Heaving out a sigh, you get ready to give up and suggest joining the thrumming dance floor - before, a large, soft hand glides down to your waist.

Fingers digging into the plush of your hips as Sukuna yanks you easily to plop down onto his waiting lap. Thighs strong and steady underneath yours, meeting your surprised gaze with his smug one, “This better?”

His hot breath fans the shell of your ear, sending traitorous shivers running along your spine - all the way down to where Sukuna was resting hand right above where your tight dress was hiking up.

Involuntarily, you find yourself nodding along, “Y-yeah. Much better.”

“Good.”

Fuck, you could feel each and every rumble of his broad chest against yours as he continues the conversation like nothing happened. The faint tap! tap! tap! of Sukuna’s fingers drumming on your squirming hips to the beat of the pounding music.

And it’s really hard to forget where you are, yet it hits you like a semi-truck - five of them, in fact - when his dark eyes widen at something over your shoulders. The steady beat of his fingers halting abruptly, “Oh?”

You knew what that look meant - knew who it meant. Because, really, there was only ever one person that could command as much attention in such a hazy, packed campus party.

Dipping your head, you hastily ask, “Is he looking over at us?”

To which Sukuna finally tears his gaze away, amusement and something else so dark swirling behind his gaze when he grabs the back of your throat. Whispering against the skin, “More than looking, pretty. Satoru’s planning my funeral and dancing on my grave already.” Moving up, voice dropping to a low, low whisper, “All according to plan, of course. N’ I think…” You jolt as he bites down on your earlobe, hard. “-that we should give him a lil’ show, hm?”

You bite back a soft moan, palms smoothing over Sukuna’s pecs to steady yourself. “And just what did you have in mind?”

“A little bit of this.” he grins, eyes flickering over behind you. “A little bit of that. And some of-” Sukuna chuckles at the way you’re so responsive underneath his touch, bucking when he gives your ass a tight squeeze. Tracing right up, up, up the middle of your spine, “-this.” Lips just inches away from yours now, close. “And you get him as a new boyfriend, and I get killed for taking what I can’t have.”

You feel something soft - fleeting.

And then immediately Sukuna’s pulling away, those lips that were just barely one yours curling up into such a sly smirk, “Yo, Satoru.”

You stiffen at the name - and the burning hole being stared into your back right now - whipping your head around to be met face-to-face with a towering Satoru. Brows furrowed, biceps rippling when he crosses his arms, lips drawn tight as he hisses through his teeth, “Seems the two of you are having a lot of fun.”

Oh, were you thankful for Sukuna’s sharp mouth right about now. Because while you’re still sitting there with your mouth stupidly agape, he muses, “Mhm, a lot of fun.” Thumbing your face back towards him, “Isn’t that right, pretty?”

Fuck, those were fighting words, ones that had Satoru looming closer - practically sandwiching you between the two men.

“I’m sure she can speak for herself.” he snaps back, slender fingers circling your wrist. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

“I dunno, Toru.” And, well, maybe you were an idiot. Maybe you were a mastermind, because you only bat your lashes up at Satoru so deceivingly innocently. “Kuna here-” relishing in the way he flinches at the nickname, “-was jus’ telling me how great of a boyfriend he’d be. Right?”

The other man nods, “Since this pretty lil’ thing is single, thought I might as well take a shot.”

“Please.” Satoru was pulling you closer against him now, irritated huffs prickling waves of goosebumps across your skin. Words venomous, “Some boyfriend he’d be. I’m sure he’d do nothing other than give you weak dick and bore you to death.”

Sukuna scoffs, “Right, because yours is so much better?”

“You really think you have what it takes to satisfy this lil’ minx?”

Both men were gritting their teeth, trapping you between them. People were starting to stare now - some even pulling their phones out to start recording in case of a fight. And before the argument could escalate until that point, you catch Sukuna’s eye. Cutting off whatever next retort was on the tip of his tongue with a short, subtle shake of your head.

“Well then…” he instead purrs, grinning as if he was in on some inside joke between the two of you - on purpose, of course, just to watch Satoru’s eyes grow harder. “Guess if I’m ‘boring her to death’ then you-” Sukuna gives you a little push, nudging you towards Satoru’s chest. “-can teach her all about fun.”

Before you can react, two strong arms are looping your waist, helping you stand up - and pulling you clean off of Sukuna’s lap.

You’re hit with Satoru’s expensive, heady cologne - and his chest against your back, rock-hard, chest thumping wildly. You blink up at that uncharacteristically clenched jaw, “Toru?”

Now, you’ve seen him moody, you’ve seen him irritated - but never to this extent. Positively fuming, teeth grit, jolting at the mere sound of your voice as if his whole body was hit with a wave of electricity. Like some hidden, primal part of himself was being poked so dangerously awake when you softly intertwine your fingers with his. All gentle against his almost bruising hold, you question, “Are you alri-”

You don’t get to finish the question, because all it takes is another slow, leering grin flashed at you from Sukuna before Satoru mutters, gravelly. “Excuse us, then. I must have a talk with my woman.”

Starting to walk in long, fast strides upstairs - with you all stumbling and trying to keep up behind him.

Urgent. Dangerous.

“Extra room’s unlocked, you two!” you hear Sukuna call out after the both of you. And the last sight you see of him is when he mouths a silent “You’re welcome.”. One hand flashing you a thumbs up, the other adjusting the crotch of his pants. “Have fun.”

Satoru only clicks his tongue, moving very purposefully towards where Sukuna’s bedroom was instead.

“Woah- Toru, slow down.” you yelp, out of breath at his ruthless pace. But of course, since this is Satoru, he won’t have it any way other than stopping immediately in his tracks. Turning briefly around to you - only to wrap two arms around your waist, throwing you so easily over his shoulder like some ragdoll. Large palms tugging down the hem of your ass as he continues walking. “Y-you’re so-”

So what? Mean? Jealous? Playing right into your hands?

You don’t even know - nor do you really care, because Satoru finally reaches his destination.

“Fuck- here.” he spits.

Slam!

The door is flung open so hard it almost rattles off its hinges - and you aren’t faring any better. Because no sooner has Satoru stepped inside, he’s throwing you onto the king-sized bed in the middle of the room.

The mattress dips as he slowly makes his way up to you, your legs quiver at how much he just looked like a man starved - eyes half-lidded and crazed, hair ruffled. Having finally found a full meal in years. Darkly eyeing down the way you’re splayed out like such a slut on the mattress, dress hiking up with each bounce at the sheer force of his throw.

“So-” Satoru’s fingers reach out to lazily unbuckle the straps of your heels. Lingering much more than necessary. “-got anything to say?”

You bite your lower lip, holding back a delighted grin while his hands dance up your thigh to fiddle with that garter you knew he’d love. Slow. Agonizingly slow. Cocking your head in faux-confusion, “Hmm, like what?”

“Oh I dunno.” Satoru muses, saccharine sweet. And oh you could tell by his tone that he didn’t like that - didn’t want to like it. Running his fingers feather-light all the way down your legs to fling that useless garter onto the floor. “How about a ‘oh I’m so sorry, Toru, for bailing on you and acting like such a slut with the biggest asshole on campus jus’ to rile you up.’”

You bristle at his mockingly high tone, oh yeah, your plan worked - hell, maybe too well.

Teeth clenched, you hiss, “Well what are you gonna do about it, Toru?” Jutting your chin in defiance, “You’re not even my boyfriend. Maybe he jus’ fucks me better than you.”

“Say that again.”

Fuck, it takes you a second to even recognise his voice as your familiar friend-with-benefits. So jagged and raw.

And yet, you’re still running your mouth - so close to his. Too close. “Maybe he jus’ fucks me be-”

Now, usually you were the one that’d shut up Satoru mid-sentence - this time, however, he’s the one crashing his lips against yours. Swallowing the rest of that sentence in such a messy clash of teeth, and spit, and desperation.

Pulling ever-so-slightly on your glossy lower lip with his teeth, “Say it again, sweetheart.”

Oh, you knew you shouldn’t. Not one bit. But you do it anyway, letting out a muffled, “He f-”

And again. And again and again and-

Each and every time Satoru’s kissing away your mean little words, a large hang coming up around your throat to thumb apart your lips further. “Open.” he hisses against your mouth, so angry.

It’s as if on autopilot when you do, bruised lips sagging open. Leaving the perfect lil’ opening for Satoru to spit onto your lolling tongue, once. Twice. Thrice. Until your bleary eyes are snapping open, whining against Satoru’s iron-hold fist when you pathetically try to pull away in embarrassment.

Because shit, let it be known that Gojo Satoru has perfect aim - except for when it comes to you. Letting the steady strip of spit splatter against the side of your mouth, gliding his thumb to smear it all over your lips.

“How cute.” Satoru coos, eyes hooded. He gives your pouty mouth a final, chaste peck, sucking softly on your bottom lip. Chuckling, “Makin’ me almost forget you were locking lips with some other bitch earlier.”

And Satoru has the audacity to laugh - laugh - hoarse, and humorless at the way your jaw drops open in disbelief. Humming into your throat, “Yer right, though, m’not your boyfriend.” He leaves little bite marks down your racing pulse, your collarbone, your tits spilling out of your sinful dress. Eyes just devouring you through his long lashes, “But that doesn’t make you any less mine.”

Sitting back on the mattress, all it takes him is a simple tug on your hips to seat you so prettily on his lap. Your legs trembling around his thick thighs, gasping at the feeling of something so rock-hard right under your clothed pussy.

“Since ya like riding thighs so much, sweetheart-” Bunching your dress up at your hips, gripping your waist - tight. “-let’s see how you like mine.”

“What- oh ngh- fuck-” you’re gasping when he just starts dragging your sloppy hips down his thigh. Long, harsh movements that don’t even ease you into it.

“Shit.” Satoru groans at the feeling of your cunt drooling, seeping into his skin already. He’s angling his head to spy on the heavenly view - hooking a finger around your drenched panties. “This damn thing is-” Pulling - tearing. “-in the way.”

You’re gasping when Satoru pulls back to look at you with a content grin, dangling the flimsy fabric around his finger like a badge of honor. “You’re- ngh- buying me a new one.”

“Oh, anything for you.” he’s grazing his teeth along your earlobe, fingers finding their way back on your hips to grind them on his thigh, back and forth. Up and down up and down up and- “Or is that what you wanted me to say?”

And shit Satoru is so mean with the way he gives your ass a sharp smack! Pulling your whiny face closer, grinning sternly against your lips. “Why don’t you ask that new boytoy of yours to buy you some, huh?”

“B-but-”

“B-b-but-” he mocks, bouncing his knees up and down to get you to slide your cunt down his long thighs faster. Puffy folds spreading so shamefully open - so shamefully good. “You were so happy being such a slut for him before, right?” Just goading on your poor self to huff and puff in a way that made his cock twitch wildly. “So why are you here? With me?”

You’re stubbornly keeping your lips sealed shut to keep yourself from crying out - and oh, Satoru didn’t like that. Almost as much as he didn’t like seeing you giving those beautiful heart-eyes at some other bastard.

“Oh? Playing shy now?” Smack! “What happened to the slut from earlier, huh?” Bouncing his knee faster. The pads of his long fingers sting into your skin, sure to leave bruises for him to admire later - and for some people to take note of. Pulling - drawing your cunt to hump him like a bitch in heat. “Tha’s alright, pretty. I get it.”

And Satoru - mean, mean Satoru - waits until your features soften in relief, almost letting out a sigh - before dipping a hand down to brush a thumb at your pretty clit. Hard. “Guess I’ll jus’ have to bring her out.”

“Oh- fuck fuck fuck-” you mewl, nails digging into Satoru’s shoulders when he starts to draw frenzied, methodical little circles on your throbbing clit. “S’too- good- oh my god-”

“‘Toru’ works jus’ fine, sweetheart.”

But oh for how confident Satoru was talking you into insanity, he can’t help but gape in wonder down below him, awe-struck with how sloppy you were. He could see you sweet sweet juices trailing down his palm, that glossy sheen on his thigh. “You’re so dripping wet, pretty. Who’re you this wet for? Me or-” Satoru’s free hand comes up to squish your cheeks together into an embarrassing pout, turning your head to the adjacent wall, where Sukuna had a framed photograph of himself - because of course he did. “-him?”

Fuck, Satoru can’t even be mad at the way he feels your cunt clench in surprise - because the feeling is so heavenly. His pretty girl, getting off on just his thigh.

Hips stuttering as you move faster - sloppier. So, so filthily all the way from around his knee just till where you could feel the curve of his massive erection.

He doesn’t even have to move your hips for you anymore - you’re moving as if on instinct at this point. And it makes him smirk, “Heh, such a slutty lil’ thing aren’t ya? Gettin’ off on my thigh?” Feeling you push your hips down hard - so hard. Pelvis desperately trying to hit all your sweet spots, “N’ who’s thigh are you riding right now?”

It’s all you can do to manage out a whimpering “Y-you.”

But, of course, that wasn’t enough. And Satoru’s only quirking his fingers just enough on your clit to make you cry out loud. “Yeah tha’s more like it. Louder now - who’s thigh are you riding right now?”

“You-”

“N’ who got you this fucking wet?”

You cry out when Satoru angles his leg up ever-so-slightly to watch gravity slide you faster down his thigh. Clit catching so fucking obscenely along the fabric of his pants. Ruthless.

“F-fuck you, Toru!”

“Mhmmm, thought so.” His hot tongue darts out to catch those big, fat tears rolling down your cheeks at the unforgiving stimulation. Muscled thighs burning lightly now - faster - fingers so erratic. Only getting even more so. “Cuz you’re mine aren’t ya?”

You cum so hard - violent, even - that you don’t realize when you are. Just that you’re letting out a broken sob of Satoru’s name while he toys so relentlessly with your clit through your high.

Flashes of white in your vision, your heartbeat in your ears. So good that you’re almost tearing apart his button-up to shreds, hips jerky and sensitive as you your sloppy cunt gushes all over Satoru’s thigh. And, fuck, you’ve never felt so much like such a slut than when you look down to catch the glossy coating all over it.

One that Satoru swipes thumb at - pooling the syrupy slick on his fingerpad before bringing up to his pretty pink lips and-

Pop!

“Mmm.” He groans, muffled. “Fuck, you’re so sweet - could taste you forever.” Eyes rolling to the back of his head at your addictive taste, “Almost makes me forget that you didn’t answer my last question.”

And you don’t know what you’re reeling more from - the way that Satoru throws you around so easily, pushing you back until you’re splayed out against the plush mattress, shaky legs on his shoulders, arms around his neck. Or from the realization that shit, you’d been too busy losing your absolute sanity to answer his question.

“I- I didn’t hear.” you make up an excuse, heels digging into the muscles of Satoru’s shoulders now. “I’m yours, Tor-”

“Now now, don’t try that with me, sweetheart.” Satoru cuts off your flurry of apologies, kissing softly at the ankle beside his neck while he pulls off your dress and bra. You didn’t need those, anyway. “Guess I just hafta prove it to ya, right?”

And fuck was he well and fully intent on proving it to you. Because the words are barely out of his mouth before he’s peeling down his drenched pants - and those unnecessary boxers right along with it, too.

Satoru hisses when his painfully hard erection smacks against those toned abs, smearing precum in a small, filthy little pool. So so angry with the need to be inside your tight pussy - to prove to you from the inside out that you were his.

“Ya like what you see?” he notices your fixed stare at his cock. Greedily following the precum beading at his fat, red head, making its way between Satoru’s prominent veins. To those tufts of white way down, down, down- “Hey there.” You’re startled out of your little reverie by two wet fingers being snapped in your face, “As flattered as I am, this is actually my favorite part.”

And fuck you could see why it was.

Because it felt so sinful to watch with bated breath at the way Satoru fists his swollen cock, gliding his weeping tip between your swollen folds. Letting your pretty pussy slobber all over him. Up and down. Again. And again. Teasing.

“P-please, Toru-” you whine around the fifth time he’s “accidentally” nudging at your poor clit. Hips bucking up in need for more more more- “Enough teasing, jus’ wan’ you ngh- inside me.”

To Satoru, no sweeter words have been spoken. But he still manages to curl his lips into a leering smirk at your fucked-out, needy self. “Funny. Coming from someone who shit- pretty, you’re pussy’s trynna suck me up - who couldn’t wait to bail on me tonight for some other hah- jerk.” He presses his thick tip down on your clit, on purpose. “Would’ve fucked you ngh- real nicely, tonight, y’know? What a shame.”

You can only watch when he draws his hips back, lining up right with your sloppy hole. “What a shame m’gonna ah- fuck you like the slut you are right now.”

It’s all that’s said before he’s pushing in - to your snug cunt, to your fucking lungs it felt like.

“Oh- oh fuck, Toru-” you keen, back arching off the bed at the stretch. Satoru’s girth was rubbing up against your gummy walls and stretching them out so good. All the way until all you could feel was the rapid thump! thump! thump! of his throbbing cock pushing between your legs. “God, s’too big-”

“No no no, you don’t get to say that.” Satoru spits into your open mouth, hips jutting forward like some animal in short, shallow grinds to bully himself deeper. “You don’t get to fuck- ngh- act all coy when you brought this upon yourself.” His words come out faster - more slurred. Falling out faster and faster as his hips do, “Not when you decided t-to act like a lil’ slut hah- n’ guess what?”

Whether it was a rhetorical question or not - you weren’t sure. All you know is that you’re mewling up tearily at such a feral Satoru, “W-what?”

To which he only smiles against your lips, hips suddenly going still. Dangerously still. “N’ that means m’gonna fuck you like one.”

Before you can even react, he’s pushing in all in one go. Fuck, it never got easier even after so long.

“Oh- fuck I can’t take it- all-” you cry helplessly as he keeps pushing past that first ring of resistance. The curve of his cock massaging all those hidden sweet spots inside while he keeps splitting you apart deeper and deeper - not daring to even slow down. Not until Satoru’s well satisfied with the kiss of your bruised cervix against his thick head ,heavy balls smacking against your marked-up ass.

“See? Knew you could take it, you always do.”

And then he’s moving - not with the slow, persistent determination from before, no. Satoru was so animalistic, bouncing you unapologetically on the mattress.

Hands keeping your hips still to let him ram his entire cock inside your tight pussy. Over and over and-

“Still don’t think you’re not- fuck- mine, sweetheart?” Satoru runs a hand through his hair to see you better, to drink in the sight of your puffy folds bulging around his cock. Struggling to take in each mean thrust, “Because this seems ngh- reeeeal convincing that you are.”

You scrunch your brows in a pathetic plea, “I-I am yours, Toru- ngh-”

But he only brings his ear closer, “What was th-that? Didn’t hah- hear you-” Hands pushing apart your legs until they burned at the stretch. Until you were so shamefully on display for him, “You hah- need more convincing? Oh, I see.”

“I don’t! Oh- T-ngh”

It’s all you can do to let out teary, broken moans when Satoru rolls his hips harder. So carefully practiced with the way he locates your sweet spot easily.

“Yeah? You hah- like that?” he groans, words punctuated by a deep, harsh thrust. All hitting the bulls-eye each and every time. “Like me f-fuckin’ you like you’re mine?”

At this point, you’re scrambling at the damp sheets, the headrest, Satoru’s shoulders - just anything and everything to hold onto whatever’s left of your sanity - which seemed to be slipping away with each press of Satoru’s head against your g-spot.

But it still wasn’t enough.

Languidly, he brings a hand over to pinch your ravaged clit between two fingers. Having you whine so prettily with each roll of his fingertips. “Answer the question, pretty.”

“Yes!” you gasp, feet kicking at the sheer overstimulation. “I love it- ngh shit shit shit- I love it, Toru- love it so much.”

Shit, you might’ve just broken him.

Because while you may have thought that this answer would calm your Satoru down a bit - it only made him snap. Eyes widening, hips stuttering, swollen lips falling into such a fucked-out oh! - he looked like an absolute wreck.

Letting out a low, throaty groan of, “Oh fuck, you’re gonna be the ngh- death of me.” With this, he’s pressing his sweaty forehead onto yours, breaths coming out in feverish little puffs that match his merciless cadence. “Wish they could fuck- see you like this.” Ramming inside you harder - meaner. Giving your clit a light smack! before he starts playing with it once more. “I’d ah- fuck you in front of all those losers that think they have a chance just to show off how good you are f’me. Because you’re fuck fuck fuck- my good girl, right?”

You nod as much as you can, head just spinning with each brush of Satoru’s dick against your sensitive spots. Fingers twirling at your clit just as dizzyingly. Letting your slick glisten all over his wrist - his painfully squeezing balls - all the way up to his abs with how hard he was fucking into your tight pussy.

The both of you were getting so sloppy now. No care or concern for the party still raging on outside, not when your gummy walls were sucking up Satoru’s aching cock like that.

“No one ngh- can fuck you like this.” Satoru sucks on your lower lip. Ragged, like it pained him to keep talking, but he couldn’t stop anyway. “No one.” Milking you harder and harder like he was high off your sweet moans. More desperate - depraved. “Cuz m’yours.”

And he repeats that - into your lips, into your forehead, down your neck - over and over while you cum so fucking hard all on his swollen cock. Plushy walls squeezing so tight that it was almost difficult to fuck you through your high.

Ripping out strangled, raspy groans with each clench of your slutty cunt, “N’ you’re mine.” You think your vision gets hazy through your climax, and the only thing you can hear are those obscene squelches and Satoru’s voice. Like a mantra, “You’re mine- you’re mine you’re mine you’re mine- fuck you’re mine.”

Not straying too far behind, Satoru cums and he thinks he sees the pearly gates of heaven - with you, such an angel.

So sweetly whining into his ear when he’s painting your walls white, pumping rope after rope of thick, hot cum into your awaiting pussy.

Blinking back his vision only to eye the way it overspills, dribbling down your slit with each harsh ram of his hips.

“Wan’ go again-” Satoru groans. Only fucking his seed deeper and deeper and oh- he didn’t want to stop. Didn’t think he could stop with the way you were bringing out each and every single last drop like it was delicious. “F-fuck I needa go again. Swee-”

SLAM!

“Woah, seems the two of you are having a looota fun.”

Still not pulling out, both you and Satoru scramble to cover yourselves up with Sukuna’s now-soaked sheets. Well, mainly cover you up, for Satoru had no shame in staring the other man down. Scoffing out, “The fuck are you fuck- don’ squeeze me so hard, pretty- the fuck are you here for?”

“It’s my room, n’ I had a feeling you’d be here.” Sukuna lets the door shut so agonizingly slow, flashing the two of you a lazy, devilish grin. “Besides - this is my date, after all.”

A/N. Plagiarism of work not authorized.

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withloveevv

6 months ago

ུᩧ JJK TWITTER LINKS P4 !

৻ꪆ instructions. before clicking, you must be logged into your acc and have twitter open in order for these links to function .

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