𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮’𝐬 𝐛𝐢𝐠

fratboy!satoru dating nerd!reader was an odd mix. you two never really liked the same things - there was one thing you both liked though and that was libraries. separate reasons though.

fratboy!satoru mumbled into your ear - telling you that you were a good girl and were doing so soo well for him!

fratboy!satoru whos large hand made its way up and down your thigh, comforting you while you wrote something down in your note pad.

nerd!readers who cunt was warming up fratboy!satoru dick, your warmth making his tip dribble out cum. your sat on him innocently but underneath the skirt you wore was anything but innocent.

you whine when you feel his dick twitch inside of you but he just tells you to continue with your notes.

fratboy!satoru who finds it interesting how your constantly reading and writing but the moment a dick enters you - you wanna do anything but!

fratboy!satoru who tells you to shut up, harshly digging his nails into your plush thigh as a punishment when your mewls grow to be a little too loud.

he doesnt want anyone else to hear the pretty sounds you make!

"Shut up, princess, or itll be even worse later."

Tw- reader is his secretary n wife!!! ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ not proofread :p

Thinking about CEO Nanami fucking his hot ribbons of cum further into his secretary wife’s cunt. :3 Your upper half is craning over his polished work desk and your limbs are shaking and strained from being crammed in the same position for so fucking long.

Your once well-ironed pencil skirt is now bunched up around your waist and the pristine buttons of your white blouse struggle to contain the ripe swell of your breasts that's smushed and spilling out onto his important documents— exposing all the purple hickeys and love marks that he imprinted on you earlier for the whole world to see.

His once orderly combed golden blonde hair is now in disarray, matted with damped sweat and his bangs fell across his hazel eyes, hindering his vision as he struggled to keep up his vigorous pace— he teetered on the verge of losing his mind as he feverishly gazed down at the sight of his creamy pool of cum threatening to spill from your stretched-out hole.

Streams of his milky sperm are trailing down your tender thighs, glistening under the ambient light and pooling on the sleek marble floor. As his swollen cockhead nudges the remnants of his release deeper into the depths of your womb and stroking your overstimulated walls to the verge of tears.

You let out a high-pitched whine in response to the overwhelming overstimulation following your blissful and toe-curling orgasm just from a minute ago.

You desperately tried to wiggle your hips to detach yourself from his toned pelvis in an attempt to break free from his harsh hold which only earned you a burly groan from the blonde because of your sudden movements making his sensitive shaft drowning deeper into the tight depths of your drooling cunny. And it was obviously no use because of his unyielding grip on the sides of your ass cheeks that was leaving you trapped in his powerful grasp.

“Kennn…sir! What if someone sees—“You fussed worriedly, your heart racing as you quickly realized the precariousness of the situation. Anyone could open the door at any moment and witness their usually dignified and honorable boss entangled in such a disheveled and scandalous scene— his slacks shamelessly pulled down his ankles while he was slamming his hefty shaft and stretching out his wife's pretty cunt like a possessed madman. He’s like a whole different person this way.

You're seemingly trying your best to hold onto the desk for dear life as he frantically pounds your aching cunt with an intense rhythm, causing your tummy to press hard against the unforgiving surface and making it a challenge to keep your balance and remain upright because of how sore you are.

“Then I’ll fucking fire them, no one is stopping me from breeding my wife’s pretty pussy.” he babbled stupidly. “Can’t wait to have cute little blonde babies with your gorgeous eyes running around, darling”. His voice dripped with possessiveness and was raw with desire as he eagerly expressed his anticipation for starting a family with you. :(

You immediately whimpered at his intriguing words, your body betrays you and somehow you don’t even give a fuck about anyone seeing when you were arching your back deeper against him and pressing your chest further into the cool surface of the desk as you took the rest of his relentless pounding.

The sensation of his heavy balls rubbing against your puffy clit with each forceful thrust was practically sending you spiraling into another orgasm. He leaned over you— pressing his weight into your supple form, showering your back with a trail of fervent kisses. “You’re mine, all mine” he declared with a deep growl, his breath quickening as his throbbing cock pulsated against your slick, tight walls.

And then when you’re approaching your next orgasm, he’s babbling a bunch of shit you never even expected to hear escaping from Kento's lips. Telling you “cum for me again sweetheart, let everyone hear how fucking slutty my sweet submissive wife is”.

You made a split-second decision to glance over your shoulder and caught a glimpse of how fucked out and messy Kento looked with his tie askew, his chiseled face flushed, and beads of sweat glistening everywhere. Maybe your husband is losing his mind after all.

timeless.

𖦹 minors don’t interact. ┊ wc: 3,8K.

𖦹 content: sub!reader, service dom!toji, unprotected sex, breeding kink, nicknames, (small) age gap, consensual filming, (semi) public sex, oral sex (f! receiving), overstimulation, possessiveness.

𖦹 pairings: actor!fushiguro toji x actress!fem!reader.

ᥫ᭡. this is for Lights, Camera, Action COLLAB!; collab by the most gorgeous @k-ryuuguji! ♡

Keep reading

when you start writing for ushijima >>>>>>>>>>>>>

can you tell im begging?

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inevitable | u. wakatoshi

➳ tags ;; fluff n smut, getting together, first times together, unprotected sex, intentional lower case 18+

➳ wc ;; 1.9k (WHAT THE FUCK)

➳ a/n ;; ask n u shall recieve (i had rlly bad brainrot tn actually)

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if you had to describe ushijima wakatoshi in one word, you think the word you would chose is inevitable.

in·ev·i·ta·ble | /inˈevidəb(ə)l/ adjective certain to happen; unavoidable

of all the ways you could describe a person, it's probably not the best word. you could think of a laundry list of other ones to describe - really. hard-working, dependable, strong-willed, mindful, cautious. he's a lot of things and you think that's why he's so good at what he does. he's powerful but he he's brilliant at where he uses that power.

you would also use words like that to describe him, if you had too. if you had to give someone the run-down of wakatoshi - you could probably give them a whole speech about his accolades. he's probably the kindest person you know and he does that mostly on accident. he helps little old ladies carry groceries and lets your niece climb his arms like monkey bars with the most plain look on his face.

he's a lot of things - funny on accident, charming on purpose. but of all the things he is - to you, the thing he is most, is inevitable.

it's not hard for you to admit that you weren't exactly.. welcoming to ushijima when you first met him. you were a barista and he was well.. a big, pro-athlete who came to buy straight dark coffee every morning. after his work-outs (or what you figured was workouts since he always looked pretty sweaty) he bought himself precisely one pastry and a bottle of water and went about his day.

and it went like that for months. obviously you found him handsome - the way you could basically autopilot your shifts but completely broke down when he was there was evidence of that. he was tall, broad, handsome and nice. the kind of man who meets your grandmother, you think.

he always asked about you and you gave him short answers. too nervous to elaborate but he made you anyways, somehow and some way. and he comes back to you every week with details of your life you'd only mention in passing. he'd chuckle - a soft little smile at the way your eyes went wide. for someone so dense, he wasn't all that out of touch when it came to you. one morning your hands trembling just a little more than normal when you hand him back his change

(he tells you later he paid in cash just to see you stumble)

and he asks you with a plain look. observant.

"do i make you nervous?"

that's when you knew, really. you stood no chance against the all-consuming force that was and is ushijima wakatoshi. the subtlety and nuance in all of his actions left you worse for wear and any suspicions you had about how he might be treating you were to be confirmed much later down that line.

he's dense in the same way avocadoes are fruit. it's true, technically - but in a lot of ways and functionally it's just not the same. you think that the better word to use for him is selectively intelligent - like he doesn't bother thinking about anything that doesn't interest him for more than two minutes. but on the rare occasion it does interest him, i.e how you interest him - he becomes some kind of expert.

you've always been a little stubborn when it came to love. heartbreak does that to you - and you were overly cautious with ushijima. you let your heart walk on eggshells. you didn't let his gestures or touches or glances mean anything to you. you didn't let yourself be swayed by the smell of his cologne - sweet and woodsy on the back of your throat. not by the way he placed his hand on your lower back to walk past you on days off.

and when he took you out, to see the movies and stargaze, you told yourself it isn't a date. you tried your best really. because there is something really unbelievable about ushijima wakatoshi liking you - beyond the fact that he's some pro-athlete.

there's something about him that's a little unreal. not that he's perfect, but that all of his flaws make him more attractive. it almost bothers you but he doesn't seem to understand when you give him those lengthy explanations. hands making all types of gestures, flustered as he smiles. he doesn't take anything from your little lecture that day, just gives you a once over as he drives you home.

"oh, so you find me attractive?"

you didn't stand a chance. he was, and is, inevitable. everything about him has this powerful but subtlety all-consuming nature to him. you think the best way to think of it is like letting yourself float. the way you release the weigh in your body and inevitable give into letting it hold you. even if waves came - you'd probably stay in that state.

ushijima is like that. a constant presence and overwhelming force. you get swayed without even thinking. he could probably become president, if he really wanted. lucky for everyone else, he just wants to play volleyball. you think that it's a shame in equal parts that it's a gift but you digress.

the point is that you could never really be away from ushijima. and as hard as you tried to avoid the growing affection - you find that ushijima is always a few steps ahead. always reaching far beyond you with big, strong hands.

you try so hard, to avoid the inevitable. you do it with your whole soul. you're honestly just.. intimated. you've never felt something like him before - not once in your whole life. you're afraid of what'll happen when you succumb to the waves so you dodge the deep sea for weeks and weeks.

he found you after your shift one day after 3 weeks of dry texting and avoided phone calls. wearing a suit and a purple shirt and a nice watch, he has flowers too. and you're in.. a barista uniform with tousled everything and smudged mascara.

inevitable is really the only word. as you stop dead in your tracks, and as ushijima pulls you aside with the mostly gentlemanly smile. you kind of wanna cry when you look at him.

"i've waited a long time but i don't think i can much longer,"― he shifts a little. he almost looks nervous - it's the first time you've ever seen him look anything but overwhelmingly confident ― "i like you and i'd like to be with you,"

he doesn't really offer you much other than a confession and his hands. the frustrating thing is that he doesn't need to. it's the first time he's seen you cry but he handles you well, does it easily like he does everything else. like somehow he's just good at it, soothes you while you sob into his chest and melt into his presence and let yourself fall underwater.

in a probably not so surprising turn of events, you find that ushijima fucks with the same approach that he does most other things.

with careful consideration that seems effortlessly. it makes you feel a little hopeless that he feels good at everything. even at comforting you.

the first time you have sex, you take off his shirt for him. and he takes your hand and puts it up to his chest. gives you the most gentle look. his heart-beat is rapid.

"you make me .. nervous too. just so you know,"

the one thing about ushijima is that everything about him is big and wide and broad. he kisses you like he's trying to circle the solar system - there's a slowness to it. a vastness as he has you seated in his lap with his hands exploring up your body. his hands are everywhere. he's good with them. not too gentle but not too rough as the spread your thighs open.

he cups your pussy and it fits in his whole palm. his middle finger teases your slit as his kisses travel south, down your jaw and onto your neck. they latch onto your chest with a little breathless sigh - like he can't even breathe. it makes you clench when he talks to you - raspy.

"you're.... beautiful,"

he makes you shy. so shy as you lean forward a little and rock into his hand - a burning need nipping at you. and his eyes widen and his cock stiffens and his breath hitches and you think this is the first time you've caught him off-guard before. you wanna bask in it but you're too desperately so you latch onto his lips again.

ushijima does everything right. with knowledge in it. he kisses you and sucks on your tits and plays with your clit with this.. knowing. he likes seeing you fall apart he thinks. he likes how you get when he takes it much slower than he needs too - how he drags you through one orgasm to another with this lithe. he lets you lean over his shoulder when he fingers you - and his two fingers stretch you out like four of your own.

his cock is big. bigger than you think any person could ever take. you stare at it for a long while, gaping at it. your hands barely fit around it and that image burns itself into ushijimas brain like a permanent memory. your mouth falls open and your eyes look hazy and ushijima thinks that he's never wanted to be inside of something so bad before.

"it's so big," ― you whisper, hoarse ― "i-it won't fit,"

"i'll make it fit," ― is his only reply, kissing the crown of your head ― "sit tight,"

he does, by the way. make it fit. he makes it fit good - makes it stretch your pussy out but you don't feel like you'll break. there's a little pressure inside, and your clit swells with desire and blood - but it fits. and his eyes are glued to the way your cute little cunt seems to be swallowing him like it's nothing. it's enough to make him lose his mind.

"c-can i move?"

you nod and he does. slow at first. he draws the noise from you - a slow and soft moan leaving your lips as he drags his cock in and out of you. but it gets faster, goes much faster than you thought it could.

eventually he has you bouncing in his lap, on his cock, with such force that you feel like you can't breathe. it feels unbelievable, sets off a supernova in your gut like at any moment you could come undone. you feel like you're breaking and ushijima doesn't help, soft grunts and whispered affections.

"you're so beautiful," and "im so happy" that make you feel dizzy. you'd probably give him anything he asks for. he bounces you on his cock and lets his thumb just rest on your clit and you're so close you can almost taste it.

"cum for me," ― like he's begging ― "please,"

what choice do you have anyways? you cum on his cock with a silent scream, like your voice is tearing a blackhole into space and you shudder while he holds you in place. he finishes only seconds afterwards.

"did it feel good?"

you give him a wide-eyed look. he's dense at times. you don't know how to hate him for it so you just sigh and nod, cozying to him.

"y..yeah,"

he kisses your forehead, sweaty and tired.

"good,"

yeah. you were right.

you never had a single chance of winning against him.

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Something To Cry About

pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x f!reader

word count: 3.5k

warnings: oral (f!receving), face sitting, overstimulation, dacryphilia, mild degradation, multiple orgasms, soft sex, playfighting/wrestling, princess as a nickname, size kink, not really impact play but reader gets spanked v gently, tickling, gonna say v mild humiliation just in case, biting, marking, unprotected sex, creampie

basically: you just wanna treat Bakugou right on his birthday. of course, your willful husband has other plans.

notes: this is just a lil' happy birthday fic for my favorite blasty boi <3 yeah, it's late, but so is everything I do. Kats understands, thank goodness <33

Katsuki is a creature of habit. Always has been, probably always will be. 

He’s always in bed by absolutely no later than 10 o’clock and then he’s up by 6 the following morning. Even on his days off, he insists on keeping to his routine, so that he doesn’t risk his sleep schedule getting thrown out of whack. It’s hard enough for him to wake up each morning and it never gets any easier, yet he persists. The same routine each and every day. 

Roll out of bed. Wish that he could sleep for a little while longer—which he could, if he let himself. Go for a run. Make coffee. Fix breakfast. Go back to the bedroom. Once again, wish that he could rejoin you in bed. Drag you out of the bed. Give you a good morning kiss and then sate you with coffee, food, and more kisses. He’ll never refuse your request for more kisses.

There were rare occasions that he broke his habits for. Celebrations, emergencies, and most rarely, just for the fuck of it.

Today was an occasion. A pretty big one too, but he had still set his alarm last night when he tucked in at precisely 9:59 p.m., telling you that he’d wake you by 9, at the latest. Little did he know that you had unplugged his alarm. Turned off the backup alarm on his phone too, because of course he had a backup. 

The hour was now nearly 8 a.m. and you were honestly surprised that he was still asleep. Normally, his natural alarm clock has him up by no later than 7, but he’s been working a lot lately, hence why you decided to give him the opportunity to catch a few extra z’s this morning while you fixed breakfast for a change. He was usually the chef between the two of you, but you knew your way around a simple breakfast spread. It’s not going to be much compared to the fancy breakfast in bed he’d prepared for you on your birthday, but it’ll be edible. 

You debate letting him sleep for longer, but if you know your husband–and you do–he’ll grumble all morning about how you let him oversleep, birthday be damned. So, you stroll into the bedroom, set the breakfast tray down on the dresser for now, and crawl into bed to poke the sleeping bear. 

“Good morning, birthday boy,” you greet in a sing-song voice, your hand gently working into his blonde locks, which are obviously afflicted with a case of bedhead. “It’s time to get up, baby.”

“My alarm clock decides when it’s time to get up and I did not hear that shit go off,” he murmurs, turning over to shove his face down into the pillow. 

“Well, I’m your alarm clock today and I’ve decided that now is a perfect time for you to wake up and enjoy your breakfast,” you insist as you drape yourself on top of him. He’d never truly mastered the art of ignoring you. He couldn’t.

All he offers you in response is a grunt and a muttering of something that’s swallowed by his pillow. 

“C’mon,” you pout, lifting a hand to prod at his cheek, poking him once. Twice. Three times..nothing. “Fine,” you huff, folding your hands on his shoulder and resting your chin atop them as you shrug. “But you’re not allowed to complain that I let you sleep too late.”

He sighs and another inaudible grumble can be heard before he finally lifts his head far enough from the pillow to let coherent words pass through his lips. “What time is it?”

“Just past 8,” you say as you rest your head and let your eyes close. Falling back asleep was tempting. “Still too early for me.”

“8? I slept in that fuckin’ late?” He picks his head up a bit more, jostling you from what was a rather comfortable position. 

“What did I just say about complaining?” You tease, shaking your head as you roll off of him, back into your rightful place beside him in bed to prop your head up in your palm.

“It’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to, right? Ain’t that how that shit goes?” He smirks as he turns over to face you, mirroring your position as his other hand reaches out to rest on your waist, drawing you into him. 

“Oh, I’ll give you something to cry about, Katsuki,” you slide closer, slotting your calf through his legs and bringing your knee up over his thigh, winding yourself around him with all of your limbs as your arm slips beneath his own to hold him.

“Yeah? I’d like to see a pipsqueak like you try,” he snorts. “C’mon, princess. Give it your best shot.”

He runs his hand along your side and punctuates his words with a gentle swat to your behind, one eyebrow cocking as the smirk etched into his features only grows. You scrunch your face up in a determined scowl. You couldn’t take him, but you could still try your damnedest. There’s no way that you could actually hurt a behemoth such as him, so you could also make an attempt without worry. 

“Alright, but just remember, you asked for it,” you shake your head, flashing your palms as if to absolve yourself from any would be guilt should you actually manage to inflict an injury upon him. All he can do is laugh in reply. 

“I’m waiting,” his eyes sparkle as they perceive you, sizing you up for probably the millionth time since you’ve met, but never losing any of their luster as he takes you in. 

Your giggle reaches his ears before your hands find his shoulder, trying to pin it down to the plush of the mattress beneath you, but he won’t budge. You roll your whole weight into him and nothing happens, save for the smile creeping across his face. 

“Is that the best you got? I oughta teach you a thing or two if this is your idea of self defense,” he chuckles. “Should I let you win? Or should I give you somethin’ to cry about instead?” 

The smile on his face takes a turn in the direction of mischievous, an all too familiar expression that has your stomach doing flips at the sight of it. 

“How would you do that?” The timbre of your voice is deceptively innocent as you stop your efforts, deflating back into the sheets, smushed up against your brick wall of a spouse. 

“Like this,” he shrugs and slips both his hands around you, seizing you by your middle to flip you over the top of him and slam you into the mattress as he switches places with you. 

There’s a dampened whoosh of fabric as your spine sinks into the bed, your head cradled by down pillows that smell like his shampoo. Laughter is traded, but it quickly gives way to mild terror on your end as his fingers begin to wiggle up and down your sides. 

“Babe! Don’t! Ahh–d-don’t, please!” You beg, but it’s all in vain as his hands glide along your torso, attacking all of the places that he knows are sure to turn you into a giggling, gasping mess. 

“Say mercy,” he chuckles. “C’mon, darlin’, you know the rules.”

“Fuck your–ha! Katsukiiii! Ple–AHH–please!”

“Nah, you asked for this, remember?” He’s growing more smug by the second. “Gonna make you laugh until you cry. Or until you say mercy.”

“No!” You shake your head, writhing beneath him while you try to defend yourself, elbows pulled in close while your tiny hands try to fend off his all encompassing ones. “Stop!”

You’re already gasping for breath, trying to pull in fresh air amidst the fit of laughter and the on-going struggle, but he always wins this little game and you’re determined not to let him this time. So you fight back–like, actually. 

Your palms connect with his pecs and you push him with such force, that you catch him off guard. He stops tickling you long enough for you to take advantage of the opening you see and you grab hold of him, rocking to one side and then the other, using his own body weight as leverage to roll on top of him before you throw your arms up in the air, victorious for once!

“Good job,” he chortles, hands swallowing the expanse of your thighs as he slides his palms over your warm skin, exposed by the immodest hem of your sleep shorts–the ones he loved on you so much. 

Kind, lazy eyes flicker over your form, slowly consuming your silhouette like the last, glowing embers of a fire consume kindling. You’ve always felt like you could burn under his ruby red gaze and even after all this time, that still felt true. 

“I’m sorry,” he says after a moment, his gaze falling to where his thumb was absently rubbing against the inside of your thigh. 

“What for?” You cock your head to the side, genuinely confused by his sudden apology. 

“For this,” he smirks, but you hardly have a chance to see it before your back hits the mattress again and this time his weight is lumbering over you. 

Two muscled arms cage you in on either side while his heavy hips keeps yours pinned down. You’re at his mercy, but you can’t say that you would ever complain about being in such a position. 

“I still don’t understand what you’re apologizing for,” you breathe out a laugh, tilting your chin up to silently ask for an overdo good morning kiss, which he happily grants you. 

“Oh, well m’still gonna make you cry, princess. I’m a man of my word, you know that,” he insists as his nose nuzzles yours, a gentle gesture compared to the way that his hands snatch your shorts away from you. 

The cute underwear you’d put on specifically for this round of birthday sex too. Gone in a flash as he impatiently slips them right off your body and spreads you wide for his ravenous eyes, drinking you in again in all your exposed glory. He’s salivating by the time he hunkers down between your thighs, too focused on the task at hand to tease you about how flustered you look right now. He always found it adorable. Endearing, even. But there was nothing adorable or endearing about the things that he was thinking about at the moment. 

“Baby,” the noise falls from your lips in something akin to a whimper as you press your hands flat to the sheets, which you knew it was only a matter of time before you were gripping at them for dear life. 

He hasn’t even touched you yet and already, you’re giving him exactly what he wants. Happy Birthday, Katsuki, you suppose. 

“Say my name, baby,” he instructs as he presses the softest kisses to ever grace your body along the inside of your thighs, each one sending a new, potent shiver down your spine. 

“K-Katsuki,” you sigh, voice already shaking from the anticipation of the pleasure that awaits you, just inches away. 

You can feel his warm breath fanning over your poor, throbbing pussy. You close your eyes and brace yourself for the contact of his mouth, but it doesn’t come. 

“On second thought,” he looks up at you, vermillion eyes gleaming as he toys with a devious idea that he’s clearly excited to share with you. “Why don’t you sing me happy birthday? You were goin’ to anyway, right? Let’s see if you can finish the song before I make you cum.”

“You can’t be seri—oh, fuck,” you gasp, eyes fluttering closed as his warm, wet tongue parts your folds, diving into explore your sweetness with no trace of shame as he lets out a groan. 

“Best start singin’, princess,” he murmurs, lips brushing against your clit before they close around it and he sucks. 

“H-ha—ppy birthd—ay to y-you,” you comply with far more difficulty than you anticipated. 

He hums in satisfaction, the vibrations making it near impossible for you to think straight let alone sing this godforsaken song, but you fear that he might stop if you do. 

“Happy b—irth—oh, fuck—b-birthday to you. B-baby, I can’t,” you whine, the pleasure quickly becoming too much entirely. 

It might be a more feasible task if he weren’t just so good at what he does. He knows exactly how to drive you crazy. How to get you right up to the edge in no time flat. You’d blame it on the years of experience he has with your body specifically, but he’s always seemed to inherently understand how to navigate it. You’d think somebody had handed him a map the first time you were together and since then, he’s only gotten better with practice. 

“Yes ya can,” he counters, giving your swollen clit a break as he drags his drenched lips along the inside of your thigh. “I know you’re getting close already, aren’t you?” 

You can feel that famously smug grin of his against your skin before he nips at it, taking your flesh between his teeth to suck a faint, red mark there and then repeating the process on the other side, despite how you squirm. 

“Can’t,” you shake your head, knitting your fingers into his hair to tug gently as he leaves yet another set of matching marks on either side of your innermost thigh.

His tongue teases your slit, his hot breath tickling you as he lets out a chuckle that edges on condescending. He dives in again, tongue plunging into your core without mercy this time, so that he can fuck you with the long, pink muscle while he hooks his arms beneath your legs, holding you firmly in place. 

“Katsuki! Fuck. Oh fuck, baby, p-please,” your whining persists, but it only serves to encourage the grin on his face. 

He licks a stripe up to your clit, hovering above your swollen sex as saliva slowly cascades off of his tongue. A drop of it lands with a wet plop and he watches intently as it runs along your delicate folds, a low growl rumbling in his chest while his hips start to roll. 

“C’mon,” he tears his greedy gaze away from your entrance to look you in the eyes. “I’ll even slow down for ya, baby.”

Two long, thick digits are suddenly prodding at your hole, but just one slips inside to slowly work you open, his eyes never leaving your face. He always likes to watch when he has the chance. See each little twitch and tug of your facial features when he touches you. How your eyes flutter when he curls his finger. How your mouth falls open and you let out one of those moans that is so soft it should be considered a sin in and of itself when his thumb circles your clit. It all looks like art to him and he is simply honored to be living in the presence of a masterpiece. 

You aren’t sure if this is making things better or worse for you. Regardless of pace, it just feels so damned good when he’s the one pulling the strings, puppeteering you in the paradise that he keeps hidden in the palm of his hand. 

“Happy bir—thday, dear Ka—ha—atsuki,” you half whisper and half sing, both hands pressing to the sheets on either side of you as you clutch at the fabric, trying to take slow, steadying breaths as his hand moves slower still. “Happy birthday..to—,” is as far as he allows you to get before he attaches his lips to the ones between your legs again and begins absolutely devouring you. 

Your hips jerk, but he wraps both arms around either of your thighs again, keeping you right where he wants you. That is, until he decides that this position isn’t exactly where he wants you right now. 

He suddenly rolls onto his back, catching you off guard when he takes you with him. You find yourself straddling his face, hips bucking of their own accord as you teeter right along the edge, your impending orgasm only staved off thanks to the mild shock of the change in position. 

“K-Katsuki,” you mewl, a desperate plea, but certainly not a complaint as you pick yourself up to sit up straight, hips still rolling as his tongue plunges in and out of you. 

“Cum f’me, princess. Cum right on my fuckin’ face. You can do it,” he rasps, red eyes locked on yours as he laps at your folds with renewed vigor, rapidly flicking your clit with his tongue until he hears the telltale sign that you’re about to do precisely as he asked.

He wraps his lips around your now entirely too sensitive clit to suck, lashing his tongue faster still until your hips jerk and you sob his name, riding his face while he grins and groans into your pussy slurping up every last drop of your essence that his mouth can retrieve. 

“Ka—ha! Katsuki, s’too much. T-too much, baby, please. I can’t take it,” you gasp, panting for breath as tears manifested from pure pleasure well in your waterline, threatening to spill over your cheeks.

He finally relents, but only to flip you right back over, grunting like a feral animal as he hooks his large hands around your thighs and pulls you closer to him while he gets onto his knees. He has no doubt that you’re soaked enough to take him, so he wastes no time, impaling you immediately with the full length of his long, thick, and throbbing cock. 

“Shit, you feel so fuckin’ good, baby,” he grunts, sighing with relief as he lumbers over you and starts to move, taking his time, despite his desire to ravage you. 

Your eyes roll back as you try to take in more air, feeling robbed with each slow roll of his hips. Already, you can feel the pressure building inside you again and you cling to his biceps, squeezing his muscular arms almost as tight as your still pulsing walls constrict around his cock. 

He sees the way your eyes have turned glassy, wet with tears that he just can’t wait to make you spill. A small smirk comes to his lips as he picks up the pace, thrusting a bit faster and with more purpose. 

It works beautifully. He’s more than pleased to see those dormant tears finally trail over your cheeks while you make such pretty, needy noises for him, just for him. He leans down to kiss the tears away before he leans in your ear, speaking through his labored breaths, “Told ya I’d give you somethin’ to cry about.”

He pulls back to smile down at you, capturing your lips again before you can say anything, not that you could anyway. It feels too good for you to be able to form a coherent thought. All you can do is smile blissfully against his lips and let him swallow the moans and whimpers that spill freely from you. 

He eventually rests his forehead against yours, his hips moving faster still as one of his hands catches your waist and he groans, almost as if he’s in pain, but you know that he’s close and you are too. A few more thrusts is alll it takes to send your rocketing into oblivion again, beckoning fresh tears to your cheeks while your walls clamp down around him and your cries of ecstasy echo around the bedroom. 

His hips stutter a moment later, his own sinful noises meeting and melding with yours as he pours all of himself into you, continuing to fuck his hot seed deep inside of you while he buried his face in the crook of your neck. He pants as his thrusts taper off, slowing them as he licks along your collarbone and up to your neck to taste the salty sheen of sweat you’d worked up until he stills inside of your and nuzzles his nose against your jaw. 

“I love you,” he says softly, leaning in to kiss another stray tear away before he captures your lips again. 

“I love you too, baby,” you reply, cupping his face in your hands to pull him in for another kiss. “Now, can we enjoy your birthday breakfast?” You ask with a tender smile as you drag your thumb along his chiseled jaw. 

“No, thanks. I already ate,” he teases, chuckling as you roll your eyes and let out a soft giggle, your lips melding together once more while he rolls onto his side and draws your against him to wrap you snugly in his arms.

Twitter links pt2

Toji fushiguro :

He doesn’t mind home wrecking ೀ

This some type of shit he’d do ᧔࿔᧓

He’s lazy ⪩⪨

Into big girls ׂׂׂׂ ♡

Nanami:

He’s an ass man ✧

Lazy after hours ⋆｡

The arms…✩

He want that cookie so bad ⋆*

Megumi fushiguro:

He’s nice with it ✾

After a hard mission ❀

He’s good with his hands 𑁍

He gets passionate ✽

Noritoshi Kamo:

Prepping him ༄

He’s a switch (argue with the wall) ༉

I’m bout to buss જ

He’s desperate ๑

nightwing x gojo 🦇

ac: kayaxxo

Best friend!Gojo always called you by cute lil’ nicknames - always. Everything from “pipsqueak” to “loser” to “sweetheart”, and if they made you all flustered then even better.

Best friend!Gojo doesn’t correct anyone who assumes you two are dating because of that- he would absolutely nod at the old lady at the supermarket who playfully told him it was rude to call his girlfriend a loser. “So true, ma’am, but my sweetheart is so cute when she gets mad at me so I simply must.”

Best friend!Gojo almost doesn’t even ask you out - he just calls you his one day. In the most casual, domestic setting - a little “can you pass me the napkin, my girl?” And that was that, you could be called any nickname in the world; but most importantly it was his. 

𐙚 jjk men nsfw twitter links 𐙚

𐙚 nanami kento

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𐙚 fushiguro toji

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𐙚 sukuna ryomēn

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𐙚 getou suguru

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𐙚 gojo satoru

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𐙚 kamo choso

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𐙚 enjoy! 𐙚