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literally foaming at the mouth

Throat training with Gojo Satoru

Contains: fem reader, established relationship, finger sucking, lots of cum/spit talk, cum eating, throat fucking, oral (m!r), leg humping, so much dirty talk, Gojo talks you through it, multiple orgasms

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

"Alright, pretty girl." Gojo's voice echoed into your ears, his hand caressing the side of your cheek. "You gotta tap my thigh twice if it's too much, kay?" He instructed, resulting in a nod from you, your head nuzzling into his warm hand. "Good girl, such a good girl doin' this all for me." Satoru praised, his other hand coming down to cradle your head as he pet your face like a cat, making you feel so attended to.

Gojo sat on the couch, his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward to pamper you. Your knees were resting on the floor underneath him, sitting between his spread thighs, your hands absentmindedly reaching into his sweats and boxers to try and pull out his cock. "Anything for you Toru, wanna make you feel good." You said, your eyes keeping contact with his intimidating ones, his smile growing at your words.

"You always make me feel good pretty, dont need you to hurt your throat to get me off y'know." He giggled as he kept his hands on your face while leaning back a bit, raising his hips off the couch so you could pull his sweats and boxers down, his heavy cock springing out of the confines of the fabric and slapping his abdomen.

"I know, but I wanna be able to take you without gagging." You said, pouting at him embarrassed. Gojo released your face from his hands, opting to interlace his fingers with yours as it rested on his thigh, your other hand other grabbing ahold of the base of his cock and stroking it slowly. "It's gonna take some getting used to." He giggled, "You might not get it at first because I'm just soooooo big, but don't let that turn you off~" the cocky white-haired man teased, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

"It's not gonna be your dick that turns me off…" you whispered under your breath, scoffing at his confident tone. You couldn't say much else though, he was right, his cock was huge and you were never able to take it without gagging and having to pause every couple of seconds. This time though, you were determined, you would take things slow and let Gojo work open your throat for him, you would become his perfect cocksleeve.

Gojo leaned forward again, and with two fingers he pinched your chin, his eyes zeroing in on your plush lips. "Hmm?" Gojo mused, scrunching his eyebrows at you like he didn't hear what your retort. His thumb ran over the bottom of your lip, the feeling instantly making any smart remarks you had in your brain fall out the side of your ear, your brain melting with the small touch of his thumb.

Gojo's jaw dropped in a small o as he watched yours do the same, making way for his thumb. "Atta girl.." Gojo mumbled, smiling when your lips wrapped around his thumb instinctually and began sucking, the warm appendage rolling around his digit.

His cock twitched in your hand, which weakly and in no particular rhythm kept stroking his cock, slowly smearing the wetness from his pre-cum over the length of his cock. Gojo tipped his head back, his jaw opening more as he pressed his thumb as far as it could go into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue when he hit the back of your throat.

He felt you moan around his fingers, your face briefly scrunching in uncomfortability when his finger started to make you feel like you were going to gag if he moved it. "Look at me, pretty girl." He instructed, immediately your eyes were on his, your breathing slowly picking up as he thrust his thumb back and forth, getting you used to feeling something in your mouth.

"Breath through your nose, keep your throat open for me." He instructed, nodding at his own words. You nodded around him, taking deep breaths in through your nose when his thumb trusted towards the back of your throat, making his thumb so deep in your mouth feel more manageable. "It's easier already right?" Gojo giggled, his cock throbbing as he watched you gain more confidence, your head bobbing forward to meet his thrusts.

You kept your eyes on him, moaning around his finger when you saw the proud look in his eyes. He smiled before slowing his thrusts, waiting for you to finish your sucking before he stuck his tongue out slightly, silently telling you to do the same. You did as you saw,you opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out, releasing his thumb.

Gojo admired the sheen of your saliva covering his finger before he pressed his middle and ring fingers together and slapped them teasingly against your tongue as he did with his cock, creating lewd 'plp' noises to emanate into the room. You whined while he played with your tongue, his fingers pressing down on it and rubbing near the tip of your tongue before he broke the silence.

"Think you wanna try something a little longer?" He asked, referring to the two digits he currently had pressed agaisnt your tongue. You nodded, feeling the saliva pool in your mouth as you waited for him to sink them deeper into your mouth--giving you the go-ahead to start sucking on them how you wanted to.

Now that you weren't so preoccupied with something in your mouth, you took the opportunity to use that spare brainpower to stroke Gojo's cock more coherently, speeding up your thrusts and jerking him off more steadily. "Fuck.." He groaned, pressing his fingers into your throat, his eyes fluttering at the stimulation your hand brought him.

"You'll get that soon, promise sweet thing. Start with my fingers first.. don't forget to breathe." He said with a smile. Your nails dug into his thigh when he slid his fingers to the back of your throat, your lips wrapping around them as you welcome the feeling of him poking and prodding inside your mouth, further readying you for his cock.

Gojo shook his head in disbelief at how eager you were as he picked up the thrusting of his fingers, keeping his movements shallow at first, not wanting to push you too far too fast. He took a sharp inhale through his teeth, his eyes darting down to watch you stroke his cock, a thick bead of precum pearling out from his tip and sliding down the length of his cock, immediately getting swiped up by your fingers.

"Oooh fuck you're doing so good baby~ Almost feels like you're sucking my cock for real." Satoru giggled, watching you work on him with a slacked jaw, feeling his face heat up at all of the attention you were giving him. He could tell you were focusing hard, you really wanted to impress him and so far you were doing an amazing job.

You moaned around his fingers, wrapping your tongue around them the same way you did to his dick as you bobbed your head to meet him, trying to get him to give you the rest of his fingers, as he was still holding back, keeping a couple of inches out of your mouth.

"You want more, huh? You wanna feel me in your throat 's that it? 's that why you're being so needy?" Gojo asked, tilting his head at you. You pressed your thighs together at his words, feeling the knot in your belly tie itself tighter from his teasing. You nodded, trying to speak out a 'yes, please' around his fingers, which he heard loud and clear.

"Then who am I to deny my baby?" Gojo said with a smile, pressing his fingers to the hilt inside your mouth. The digits pressed down on your tongue, trying to stay away from your uvula. He knew this would be unavoidable when he finally fed you his cock, but it was the least he could do to keep you comfortable right now.

He kept his fingers still in your throat, watching your eyes scrunch shut at the feeling of him, trying to breathe deeply through your nose to keep your gag reflex at bay--which proved to be working. "Good girl, keep breathing for me," Gojo instructed, his other hand wrapping around yours on his cock, aiding you in stroking him.

It really did feel like his dick was in your throat, the feeling sending shivers down his spine. He finally pulled back his fingers from your throat before he set a faster pace, fucking the entirety of his digits into your mouth, still trying to be mindful to not batter the back of your throat too much. "Takin' them so well, so fucking well." He praised, making you whine around them.

Tears had started to form in your eyes, threatening to spill the more his fingers hit the back of your throat, "Keep lickin' around them f'me, feels so good when you do that." He moaned, feeling his orgasm already start to approach from the show you were putting on combined with the way he was jerking himself off using your hand.

He picked up on how you were squirming underneath him, your thighs rubbing against one another as you sat on your heel, trying to relieve yourself in some way. "Oh fuck baby, you feelin' neglected down there? Hmm?" He asked, watching you rock back and forth on your heel. You nodded, continuing to roll your tongue over his fingers like he told you to.

"Shit, sorry pretty girl, didn't know this would turn you on so much." Gojo cooed. "Spread your legs f', me, let me help out my pretty girlfriend." You did as you were told, getting off of your heel you sat fully back on your knees, spreading them apart as you closed your eyes and bobbed on his fingers, trying to keep up the pace of your hand on his cock as he jerked himself off.

Gojo slid one of his legs between yours, his clothed foot placing itself between your legs, his shin pressing against your clit and giving you the relief you needed. You moaned loudly when you felt his touch, your hand abandoning the hold on his knee to wrap around his leg, pulling him firmly against you as you humped against his leg for relief like some dog.

"Oh fuck, you like that? 's that feel good?" Gojo cooed, biting his lip as he watched you get off on his shin. You nodded, his fingers being jolted around in your mouth when you did so, making you gag slightly as they hit the top of your mouth. The tears that had welled up in your eyes finally spilled over your red cheeks, dripping off the side of your face. "Careful baby, don't h-hurt yourself." Gojo cooed, feeling his cock throb at the sight of you crying on his dick.

"Shit.. this is so fucking hot." He said out loud to himself, matching the pace of his hand on himself with his fingers in your throat. His movements over his dick began getting sloppy as he approached his orgasm, his abs clenching in tandem. He quickly released your hand that was helping him jerk himself off, "Move your hand for me baby, I- I'm gonna cum soon." He instructed.

You jerked your hand back quickly, joining it with your other as you wrapped it around his shin, humping his leg faster now that you had better leverage. A wet patch was starting to form on his grey sweats from how much you were leaking through your panties, but you couldn't find it in yourself to be embarrassed when it felt as good as it did.

Gojo jerked himself off with vigor, his jaw slack and his pretty cerulean eyes rolling back in his head as he got closer and closer, his fingers in your mouth becoming sloppy as he slowly lost control of his body.

He pulled his fingers out of your mouth suddenly, using the same hand he grabbed your jaw, tipping your head up at him. "Oh fuck, you're so fucking pretty baby, so pretty." Gojo groaned, admiring your pretty face as he worked himself up to his high. You giggled as you looked up at him with a smile on your face, your tongue sticking out for him as you waited for him to cum--you already knew what he wnated. Cumming on your face was Gojo's favorite thing in the world.

Gojo made sure his feet were firmly on the ground before he stood on shaky legs, jerking his cock off right over your mouth. His shin pressed harder against your clit from the new angle, making your eyes roll back in your head. "Keep using my leg pretty girl, get yourself off on me." He moaned, rubbing the tip of his leaky cock against your tongue while he jerked the rest of his length off.

"It's coming baby- fuck it's coming- gonna give you my cock after this kay? So make sure you s-swallow everything." He moaned--little did you know you wouldn't really have a choice. Gojo's head tipped back as his hand stilled over himself, his jaw going slack as his orgasm crashed over him.

You felt the first rope of his hot cum shoot into the back of your mouth, the spurts of his thick cum releasing one after another into your mouth. He moaned shamelessly as his body shook and jerked with his high, his legs shaking with the intensity of his orgasm. You moaned with him, Gojo was so sexy when he came, it made the fire in your stomach grow hotter, your clit throbbing at the sight.

Before you could even close your lips to swallow what he gave you, his cock was pressing into your mouth, making your eyes shoot open in alarm. You knew he said he was going to give you his cock after he came, but so soon? He wasn't even finished cumming and he was already feeding his cock into your mouth.

Gojo's refractory period for how quickly he could bounce back after he came was impressive, it must have something to do with his reverse cursed technique. He could cum over and over again without having to take a break, it was actually scary. He usually only stopped when he was shooting blanks, never from his own exhaustion.

"Fuck- take it, baby, take my cock.." He grits through his teeth, forcing the cum he just released inside your mouth, down your throat with his massive girth. Your fingers dug into his calf, the tears streaming down your face more frequently as he thrust his hips to the hilt inside your mouth. "You wanted this, so fucking breathe, breathe baby." He groaned, his chin dropping down to watch you struggle around his cock.

Both of his hands came down to cradle the side of your head as he looked at you fondly. The sides of your lips were leaking his seed, your eyes were swollen and red from your crying, your mouth was squished and stretched agaisnt his pelvis, your hair was all messed up, and he thought you were the prettiest little thing he'd ever seen.

"You feel me in there?" He asked, his still hard cock snugly in your throat. You whined around him, trying to breathe slowly and steadily through the adrenaline coursing through your veins from the unexpected action. "You feel me in your throat?" Gojo teased, pressing his hips against your face harder, making his cock go deeper if that was even possible.

"You're not even gagging baby, look how good you're taking it." He added, encouraging you. You felt a wave of pleasure rush over you from his words, combined with how proud he looked. Nothing got you off more than when Gojo was proud of you. You whimpered against him, the sound sending vibrations through his cock, making him inhale sharply through his teeth.

"You ready to get facefucked, huh? You gonna take my cock like a perfect little cocksleve? Gonna Swallow my fucking load again?" Gojo groaned, his arousal being extremely evident in his words. You did your best to nod around him, his cock cutting off your airflow when you nodded. He smiled, his thumbs wiping away your tears before he covered the entire sides of your head and pulled his hips back, thrusting them against your face.

"Fuck- oh fuck this feels so much better than when you sucked on my fingers." He groaned, pulling your head toward him to meet his thrusts halfway, your nose being smooshed against the trimmed white hairs on his pelvis each time he bullied his dick into your mouth.

Your eyes were scrunched tightly together, new tears slipped out of the cracks to slide down your cheeks as he used your mouth to get him off. You were somehow still able to grind your cunt on his shin, your thighs starting to burn from the angle at which you were getting yourself off.

Gojo's cock was so deep inside your throat that you didnt even know it was possible to take him like this, you had no idea how you weren't a choking and coughing mess. All that prep and Gojo's advice was really paying off. Of course, you gagged and choked every so often, but it was nowhere near how often you used to do so before.

You winces and whined when he fucked his hips a little too hard against you, his pelvis hitting your nose a little too hard, making your teeth scrape against his cock lightly when you pulled back a little. Nothing that hurt him, just something he noticed. "Fuck-" Gojo giggled through a groan, "Sorry baby, went too hard just then." He apologized, caressing your wet cheek as an apology, his hips not letting up in the slightest.

He saw your lips curl up around him as you tried to smile, your efforts not going far with his cock in your mouth. "I love you so much baby, you're doing so good for me, so so good." He praised, making your face heat up more. Your eyes rolled back when you found a particularly good angle to get yourself off on against his shin, his muscle pushing right where you needed him most.

He felt your moaning pick up around him, the vibrations coming more frequently as you got closer and closer to cumming. "You about to cum pretty girl?" Gojo asked, already knowing. You nodded around him, your eyes fluttering as you did your best to look at him. Drool spilled out sloppily around your lips, dripping down between the two of you, creating quite a mess.

The squelching from your mouth only aided in the arousal you felt, your orgasm creeping faster and faster up on you. "Yeahhh, cum on my leg baby, cum all over my fucking leg," Gojo begged, stilling his cock inside your throat so you could focus on getting off. The lack of oxygen from him being so deep in you was making you dizzy. You couldn't differentiate whether the little black dots that clouded your vision were from your orgasm or the asphyxiation.

You rode your orgasm out on his thigh, your moans going straight to Gojo's balls. Your body jerked and spasmed on his thigh, barely registering his words talking you through it as your orgasm clouded your senses. "Atta girl, fuck, I can feel it, can feel ur cunt twitching.. that's so hot," Satoru whined, watching you come undone from just a little humping.

When your eyes fell back into their rightful place in their sockets, Gojo picked up his hips again, taking advantage of your post-orgasm haze to be a little rougher with you. your hands came to hold his wrists that held your face, your fingers digging into his pale skin as he fucked your face with reckless abandon.

You felt your throat start to ache, you knew it was going to be sore as hell for days after this, but god was every second of this worth it. "I'm sorry, s-sorry I'm so close, keep breathing, just a little more I promise… Fuck-" Gojo groaned. You could feel his cock twitch inside your throat, his thrusting becoming rougher and less rhythmic, a telltale sign he was going to cum.

"Yesss-yes baby ohmygod, Cuming- I'm cumming-" His words were cut off by a drawn-out groan. His hips thrust against your face with each rope of cum he spilled into your mouth. You felt his groans reverberate through your body with how loud they were. Gojo's body jerked and shook with the intensity of his high, his body curling into itself and over your head as he came.

He felt your head against his pelvis tightly, keeping you flush against him as he made sure you swallowed every last drop of his cum. You felt his body jerk every time you drank up his cum, your mouth milking him of everything he was worth.

"Fuuuuuck…" Gojo groaned one last time before he pulled his spent cock out of your mouth, the softening appendage hanging between the two of you as he still held your face, strings of saliva connecting from his cock to your lips, your entire chin coated in cum and spit. You coughed into your arm, getting the spit out of your throat before he spoke, "Show me." You stuck out your tongue for Satoru and showed him how you swallowed all of his seed.

"You're so fucking greedy, god, my good little girl." Gojo smiled. You smiled at him dumbly, a cockdrunk look plastered on your face as your body sat tiredly on the floor looking up at him. Gojo tucked his wet cock into his pants and pulled up his boxers before he leaned down and scooped you up from underneath your arms.

You wrapped your legs around his body, sitting on top of him as he placed the two of you down on the couch, sitting back against the cushion. "God…" He mumbled into your hair, his cock still throbbing in his pants as his body tried to recover. "You said it." You replied, your voice sounding almost unrecognizable from how hoarse it was.

Gojo pulled back, looking into your eyes with raised eyebrows. "Fuck, your voice." He said, his hand coming to rub at your throat. "It's okay." You whispered, smiling at him. "Shit, I feel bad but that's also kinda hot…" Gojo said, sucking in air through his teeth. You softly smacked his shoulder, shaking your head as you tried to suppress a smile.

"Sorry sorry… I'll do anything you want to make it up to you." He said, laughing as he wrapped his arms around your body, dipping his head down to kiss your battered throat. "Tea." You whispered without a second thought. "I'll handpick the leaves myself." He replied, making you giggle as he assaulted your neck with kisses.

oh god i love nasty old men so much thank you for this

Work for Your Cut

PAIRING: Fushiguro Toji x Reader x Kong Shiu WC: ~2.6k GENRE: Smut 𖤐 CW: free use, oral m!receiving, head pushing, slight exhibitionism, cum play?, reader called princess/baby/sweetheart, guys i'm feral i don't know i can't even think rn…

𖤓 𝕂𝕀ℕ𝕂𝕋𝕆𝔹𝔼ℝ 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟛

You’ve not got any silly ideas about the nature of your relationship with Toji. He’s not ever left you with room for them, if you’re honest. And… in the spirit of being honest… it isn’t like you care at all. It’s all fun, all invited, and you never had any complaints. Well… almost never had any complaints.

You had been doing work when they came home, high off their latest score. Shiu had greeted you first, his hands on your hips as he leaned over you from behind, humming in approval at the almost finished dinner on the stove. You greeted him with a soft hum back, hands instinctively reaching for the lighter so you could light the end of the cigarette that dangled loosely from his lips.

You barely had the chance to turn off the stove when he was dragging you away from the stove without warning.

It was then that you finally got a good look at him. You hadn’t before noticed the cell phone tucked between his shoulder and his ear, but by the smirk on his face, the conversation was going well. One of his hands easily found your hair, tugging gently as a signal for you to drop to your knees. You obeyed like second nature, bare knees hitting against the cold tile and sending a shock up your body.

“Go on,” his lips formed the silent shapes of the words around his cigarette as he released his hold on you. He watched as your hands fumbled for the belt on his slacks, your fingers working quickly to undo the buckle and drag down his zipper. You were more eager than he was to please him, your hands worked on pulling his cock out and into your view quickly, your mouth already salivating at the prospect of tasting him.

You could feel eyes on you from behind and a quick glance proved your suspicions to be correct, Toji was watching from across the room where he leaned against the counter. A short hand movement from him encouraged you to keep going for his friend. You obeyed. You didn’t give yourself much time to admire Shiu’s cock in your hand, the feeling of it hardening just at your touch made you all too giddy to lean forward and suck the tip into your mouth. You were graced with the sound of Shiu harshly inhaling before he replied to the unknown voice on the phone.

“50 percent.” Toji’s voice came from behind you and you were sure that you could feel Shiu’s laugh vibrate all the way down to his cock where you were currently using your tongue to lick at every bit of skin you could, saliva dripping from your mouth to his cock, your hand catching it before it could drip off so you could spread it around more.

Satisfied with your coverage, you wasted no time wrapping your lips around his cock again and sucking it into your throat. You made it about halfway before you gagged, only to be shushed by the man above you. “No.” Shiu replied to Toji shortly, paying you no mind as you began to lift your head off of him only to bring it back down.

You looked up then, keen on taking in Shiu’s unheard reactions, like the way his teeth tightened around the cigarette when you flicked your tongue over the sensitive spot right below the head of his cock. His hands were preoccupied now, flicking through a stack of cash as he half-listened to the conversation. You nearly whined about how he paid more attention to the money than to you.

“You’re right.” Toji replied again, unconcerned with the way his girlfriend was currently drooling over his friend’s cock… literally. “I did the heavy lifting. I should get more.”

“Fat chance-oh fuck.” You ignored your gag reflex, pulling Shiu’s cock further into your throat despite the way your throat flexed around him, begging to be relieved. You didn’t care, the involuntary noise pulled from the man above you when your nose brushed against his hair was reward enough for you. “No not you, keep talking, I’m listening.” Shiu grumbled into the phone, giving you a pointed look as one of his hands came down to your hair, ignoring the money. “None of your business what I’m doing, keep talking or I hang up.”

Your squeak was muffled when he took up your hair again, dragging you back from him only to pull you back forward, just as deep. You understood the silent instruction and tried your best to follow the speed and depth he’d wanted, your eyes watering and jaw aching as you did. He was so hard in your mouth and you were rewarded with a small twitch from his cock and leaking precum on your tongue every time that you flicked over his head when you were pulling back.

His conversation with the man went in one ear and out the other for you as you tried to zone in on when he accidentally let gasps or groans through and the way his hand would tighten in your hair. Your eyes were focused on his face, gauging his silent reactions until you went to pull back and his hand on the back of your head stopped you.

Your eyes widened and your gaze adjusted to the line along his hips, how close it came as he pushed your head down. The wet sound of repeated gagging echoed around the kitchen and you struggled against his hold, lungs burning. He didn’t seem to care at all, smirking a little bit at the sound. “Don’t worry about the sound, it’s nothing to be concerned with.” You were sure that the man on the other end-if he had any fraction of intelligence-knew what was going on.

Your hands, which had been on his thighs, suddenly dropped to catch yourself when your legs were dragged from under you. Your palms hit the floor with a resounding slap and your knees scraped across the grout on the floor. Toji’s hands had wrapped around the meat of your calves, fixing your posture until your ass was presented in the air for him. You struggled to whine around Shiu as Toji’s hands ungracefully pushed your dress over your ass, giving him a decent view of what he’d claimed as his own.

Fingers digging into the inside of your thighs pried your shaky legs apart. The blast of cold air against your core made you realize just how wet you were just from the way Shiu used your mouth. Toji chuckled and you felt another blast of air, you realized he was blowing against your cunt just to watch you twitch. Your eyes had begun to flutter, edges of your vision darkening.

“Wait your turn.” Shiu grumbled, moving his mouth away from the phone slightly as he chastised the man behind you.

Toji scoffed and you felt his hands gripping your hips as he lined up behind you, his pants already pushed down enough to have his cock out and ready. “My girlfriend.” Your eyes rolled back into your head as he sunk into you with one movement, forcing the stretch in your body that had your head spin. “Don’t need anyone’s permission to use her cunt whenever I want.” He adjusted your body slightly, smirking when your hands nearly slipped out from under you with how you tried to pull back from Shiu to breath better. “Ain’t that right baby?” You struggled to agree, gargled noises coming from around Shiu’s cock.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.” Shiu chuckled, shoving your head back down. “Here, they wanna talk to you.” Shiu held out the phone, holding it above your body for Toji to take.

You felt Toji’s right hand move to your left hip, crossing over your body. You swallowed hard around the bulge in your throat when Toji used the one handed grip to hold you in place when he pulled back and rammed back into you. He snatched the phone and tucked it under his ear. “What do you want?”

Shiu pulled you off his cock for a moment, keen on hearing your short and high-pitched gasps as Toji’s cock found its pace forcing itself into your cunt over and over. “Take a deep breath now,” Shiu instructed, hand tangled up in your hair as he forced you to look up at him, taking in your watery eyes and the way spit seemed to drip from your tongue and lips. “Don’t swallow.”

You barely processed what he’d said when his cock was back between your lips. His hands were on both sides of your head now, hands partially covering your ears so you couldn’t hear the conversation Toji was having behind you. Not that you would have been able to pay attention. Shiu’s hands held your head in place, his hips fucking into your face as you gagged, throat squeezing and trying to close up on him. He paid no mind to that, quickness picking up until he stilled suddenly. You hardly managed to feel his cock twitch, buried so deeply in your throat.

The first rope of his cum slid down your throat and his words made sense. Don’t swallow. You felt him pull back and the second rope hit the back of your tongue. He smirked as he watched you trying to breathe, now with your throat freed up, without swallowing the load he was releasing into your mouth. “There you go.” He pulled out then, watching bits of his cum dribble out the corners of your mouth.

He let go of you completely then, tilting his head in satisfaction when your shaky arms barely held you up. Your lips were trembling, trying to stay pressed together, trying to focus on not wasting the cum in your mouth. You felt Toji again then, his left hand resting on your right him and whimpered slightly, knowing what was coming.

“Finally done.” He groaned in annoyance. “Not you idiot.” He grumbled back into the phone. His crossed arm handle on your hips gave him an iron hold and he used it. He was quick to push at your hips and fuck you back onto his cock, speed and intensity increasing quickly. Your shaky arms gave out quickly, your face now pressed to the cold tile, your knees scraping back and forth across the grout of the floor.

You whimpered and whined, your lips parting for a moment as you tried to catch your breath, Toji fucking himself into your womb-fucking you into the floor. His hands were the only thing keeping your hips in the air. You didn’t even notice the globs of Shiu’s cum leaking onto the floor until his hand was back in your hair, dragging your head just off the floor so you could see where he was crouched in front of you.

“Open. Lemme see.” He commanded, and it was easy to obey. Gargled moans and whines leaving your now parted lips. His fingers easily opened your mouth more, coaxing your tongue to hang out. He chuckled as his fingers collected his own cum from your mouth as it fell from your tongue before he pushed it back in, hearing you gag around his fingers as he pushed his cum to the entrance of your throat.

“Oh fuck yeah, squeeze again like that baby.” Toji groaned from behind you when he felt your cunt suck him back in, begging for him to make you cum. You could feel it, right about to tip over you just needed- “What am I doing right now?” Toji asked and you realized he was still on the phone. “Sinking my cock into my baby as a reward to myself for a job well done.” Your cheeks would have burned with embarrassment if you were more coherent, but the moans leaving your mouth had pitched up now, unable to even form words to beg for what you wanted.

“Hey, you’re being wasteful.” Shiu clicked his tongue at you in disappointment and brought your mouth down to where the puddle of his cum lay on the tile. “Clean it, sweetheart.” You obeyed blindly, tongue lapping against the tile, trying to bring it into your mouth, though you were sure you were just making a bigger mess. “Just like that, want a reward?” You whimpered in response, of course you did. You were so so so close if only just-

“Why the fuck would I stop to talk to you?” Toji huffed and one of his hands left your hip. “You hear this shit?” Neither of the men talked and you were vaguely aware that Toji had brought the phone away from his ear, situating it next where his cock was sliding in and out of you. “Listen to how pretty my baby’s tight little cunt sounds.” The slick sounds of him fucking you echoed around the room. You were- “Wanna hear something prettier?” Shiu’s fingers were pressing into your clit now and you barely noticed that the scream echoing around the kitchen came from you as your body hurled over the edge.

Neither of the men let up their abuse on you as your body shook and stuttered. Stars filled your vision as sensitivity clouded your senses. You were vaguely aware of the extra wetness now covering your thighs as Toji groaned in satisfaction.

“You hear that? She only sounds that pretty when I do a good job.” He chuckled. “And I always do a good job.” Your hands tried to find a grip on something, but the tile gave you nothing and you were stuck with your body sliding across the tile as Toji continued fucking into you. Both his hands were back on you now, the phone clattering to the ground beside you as he went impossibly faster. “C’mon princess, you can take more right? Shiu just got us a new job. He wants to feel your tight little cunt squeeze his cock too.”

You whimpered and you could feel your cunt squeeze at just the thought of Shiu fucking you next while your boyfriend buried himself in your throat. You hadn’t noticed that Shiu’s fingers had left your clit until they were back at your mouth, placing what felt like paper between your teeth and closing your jaw around it.

“Don’t lose that sweetheart. 10% for you. For giving Toji something to wanna come home to.” You realized the paper was cash. Cash from their job. Cash that was currently being soaked with your own saliva and Shiu’s cum leaking from your mouth.

“And you won’t give me fifty!?” Toji scoffed and his hips beat into your harder, you whined and your head rolled against the tile again.

“Her cut comes out of yours.” Shiu chuckled, grabbing another cigarette and lighting it, hand beginning to tug at his cock again, brain already conjuring the image of how pretty your face would look covered in his cum too. In your hair. Drips of it coming from your lashes and the money in your mouth.

“Hear that?” Toji scoffed, knowing you probably didn’t. “Guess I gotta make you work for your cut now.” And if your brain were working then, you would have known that you wouldn’t be getting off that tile anytime soon, but you were too busy focusing on how Toji’s cock bullied its way what felt like deeper and deeper into you every second, chasing you towards another orgasm.

a/n: thinking about that one art..... toji...shiu... one chance please... i can be good... i can take it

Category: smut, angst

Warnings: smoking, sort of jjk spoilers but not really stated clearly, angsty, cursing, gojo being smitten is a warning of it’s own

Summary: Your ability allows you to see visions of the future. Once you see your lover dead, you can’t help but want to pull away and keep him safe

***

Satoru awakes when the sun is about to rise and colour the world in molten gold. It’s not a peaceful awakening, not the usual smell of coffee you brewed after slipping out of his grasp in the early hours of the morning and not the sound of you humming a melody only known to you.

Your screams tug at the strings of his heart in a way he didn’t even think was possible and before he’s even fully awake, his muscular arms reach out to wrap themselves around you, their goal to comfort and to ground you. He was still here and you were still safe.

Your eyes flutter open and closed like the wings of a butterfly, breathing erratic and uneven.

Gojo was always a selfish man and how could he not be if almost everyone worshipped not only him but the ground he walked on. A god amongst mortals, an angel meant to erase the sins of the humanity. Right now, he would do anything to take your pain away, to ease the trembling of your cold hands and calm down the way your heart is beating too fast.

A worse side of your technique, being able to summon anything you dreamed of last night, were the obscure visions of the future.

He’s learned not to ask right after, to allow you time to calm down and get your voice back. He’s more worried about you than curious about the future. A fleeting thought that this would never be the case for anyone else but you comes and goes.

When you do finally speak, your voice is croaky and barely audible, muttered into his dark shirt.

“You were dead.”

Three short words and his hands that have been stroking your back softly, freeze. Satoru thinks he misheard you. The idea of him dying is simply ridiculous. Who would be able to kill the strongest sorcerer alive? Sure, he’s had his doubts about Sukuna, but he’s certain he’d win if it came down to it.

“Darling, are you sure that it was me? Your visions are often unclear.”

Is all he thinks to say and his hands come back to your back, motions slow and comforting. Satoru doesn’t want you to know that his heart skipped a beat, that he’s a tad bit worried, ever since your visions about Nanami came true. Ever since all your interferences with the future proved to be fruitless. Ever since they had no body to bury.

Your face finally lifts up, chin resting on his chest, eyes red-rimmed and tearful. His hand touches your cheek and it’s hot to the touch.

“It was the clearest one I’ve ever had, Satoru.” you take a moment to gather your thoughts, to take a deep breath. The vision is engrained into your mind, playing over and over like a broken record. “I tr- fuck, tried to save you and it didn’t work. Nothing worked, I couldn’t- I was too weak to save you.”

And you burst into tears again, soft, heaving sobs slipping past your soft lips. If Satoru thought that it had hurt before, he doesn’t know what to compare this to. He briefly thinks of Suguru, but ultimately brushes it off.

He mumbles your name and kisses your forehead as softly as he can manage. All he knows is violence and fighting and surviving, but with you, he manages to hide all the ragged edges just enough.

“Ah.” Is all Satoru says for a moment, a hum of acknowledgement. He’s speechless for a moment as his worst suspicions are suddenly confirmed. Satoru doesn’t have to dwell on the thought that he cares more about what happens to you than to him. “What happens to you… In this vision?”

You slowly blink up at him, eyes glazed for a moment. He recognises that expression as you trying to recall every single detail of the vision. It’s so bittersweet, Satoru thinks, that you don’t even remember seeing yourself in that vision, only caring about him.

Soon, you come back to him, brows furrowed and expression drowned in worry.

“I try to heal you and… And I don’t even notice Sukuna coming back behind me. It hurts, for a bit, and then it’s dark. The vision ends.”

Gojo swallows and closes his eyes for a moment. What is he supposed to say? His jaw is tense, and when his eyes open again, he finds you even more worried than before.

“Love… Listen, that’s not going to happen, alright? I’ll make sure of it.”

He rewards you with one more kiss on your forehead as if that would help. He’d like to think that, but he finds himself horribly mistaken when you slip out of his grasp. You’re still only in your shirt and underwear, the only accessories being the bruises left on your hips that are now covered.

You rummage through the drawers and he sits up to observe. Your still trembling hands reach for a pack of cigarettes and a baby pink lighter. Gojo never liked you doing that. He never cared for alcohol and nicotine, choosing to see his body as a temple.

He worshipped you a lot, whispering prayers of your name a lot more than prayers he would in a temple, but clearly not enough.

“You really think death isn’t coming to us? Even after Shibuya?”

You shook your head and slipped out to the large balcony attached to the bedroom. Everything in his apartment was expensive and you often complained about feeling out of place. Of course, Satoru thought that you were right where you’re supposed to be.

When he climbs out of bed, he doesn’t need to shake away the sleep. It’s like a second nature to follow you out, the cold air of the early morning biting at his skin. He always has his infinity off when with you. Satoru doesn’t want you to feel like you could ever be denied the comfort of his touch.

He finds you smoking. The white trails leave your lips and disappear into the air as if they were never there. He finds himself at a loss of words once again. A strange and foreign feeling.

Satoru’s arms wrap around your waist and he slumps his large body over you like an oversized heated blanket. For you, he can ignore the smell of the cigarettes.

“Darling, please, listen. There’s nothing that could stop me from protecting you. I won’t let anyone harm you, ever.”

Satoru is careful not to say ‘as long as I’m alive’, bites his tongue to not let it slip. If this vision proves to be as truthful as your prior ones, he might have to reconsider the promises before making them.

You take another long drag before sighing softly. He doesn’t know that you’re also reconsidering your words.

“I don’t care about what happens to me, Satoru. You die.”

And your words hurt, he can feel the physical pain in his chest, his heart clenching. How could you ever say that? How could you put his life above yours? So many would, so many would disregard another sorcerer’s life for his, but never you. At the start of the relationship, he had made it clear that you were equals. Everything was back to base one.

“Please.” he’s used to people begging him, worshipping him, not the other way around. Once again, he is reminded, that for you he can be mortal, ordinary and nothing special. A normal person without the weight of the whole sorcerer society depending on him. “I’m begging you to not say such things. How can you disregard your life just like that?”

You stay quiet for a while and then put out your cigarette, turning to him. He notices the tears in your eyes and his immediate instinct is to wipe them off. He wants to give you space, though so he stays glued to the floor.

“I think my visions are not a warning. A warning would mean that the future could be changed, for better or for worse, anyway. We have tried so many times.” the words are quiet and your tone utterly defeated. You’re similar to a kicked dog right now. Yet, your eyes rise up and you come back to the hand that feeds. “We’ve tried so many times and It has never suceeded. Nanamin is still dead, Sukuna is still alive. It’s a curse more than a gift.”

Gojo wants to wish it all away. Your pain and your sorrows, your worries and your decreasing self-worth. He knows that there is nothing he can do to stop your mind from spiralling.

He whispers your name but you don’t allow him to speak, your hands raised.

“I think it’s just like… Someone saying to me ‘here is your future, take it and deal with it’ and…”

This time, Satoru is the one not allowing you to finish your words. He can’t listen to this anymore, can’t listen to this unchangable future shit. The future is always shifting, things are always happening and transforming the events, preventing them from happening and creating new ones.

“So that’s it? You’re accepting your fate and not trying to change it? And you’re fine with that?”

He can’t keep his voice from rising in volume, pretty, perfect face scrunched up. Satoru doesn’t know how to shake sense into you, how to make you see that you both can still change the future, prevent your deaths.

“I am fine.”

Is all you say, before putting the cigarette out and slipping back inside. Your skin is covered in goosebumps. His feet follow you before his mind can catch up.

“You clearly are not.” Satoru says as you pace around the room, not knowing what to do with yourself. He’s right behind you. It’s an instinct to try to calm you down. “Will you just listen to me? Nothing’s happening to me, or you. Fuck the future, fuck everything.”

You finally fall into his arms, but Satoru doesn’t dare sigh in relief. You’re about to say something again, and he’s about to give you more logical arguments. A cursed circle that never stops running. What can he even do to stop it?

“I think… I think that you’re a god, and I’m your dog.” you say and Satoru’s voice hitches in his throat. What was going on in your head right now, to make you say something like that, to even think something like that. “You tell me to stop worrying and I do, you demand me to calm down and I listen. Ultimately, you tell me to jump and I ask you ‘how high?’.”

Satoru freezes, the hands that held you limp by his sides as he pulls away. It was so completely unlike you, so unnatural. The visions have completely broken you and he doesn’t know how to bring you back, he really doesn’t, god he doesn’t know what to do.

“You are my dog?” he repeats, his tone harsher than before as he fails to wrap his head around the idea that you could say such a thing. “Are you still dizzy from your visions or are you taking a shot at making me upset?”

He shakes his head and pulls away from you, his large hands on your shoulders.

“It’s the truth.” you respond, avoiding his harsh gaze, pretending not to notice the weight of his hands on your shoulders.

“Well, I think your truth is stupid.” he retorts, hands shaking as he pulls them away from you, as if your skin burned him.

“And I think you should leave me.”

The words leave you and it’s like the time stops for Satoru. It’s a punch to his ego. Does he not love you enough? Not cherish you enough? Do you see him as the kind of man that would leave as soon as things got hard? How foolish, how utterly stupid.

“What are you saying now?” he all but yells, his temper no longer controlled as you look up at him with those teary eyes. What can he even do? What is he supposed to do?

Your whole body is shaking as you turn away from him. “In my vision, you died saving me. Leaving me can change the future.”

And suddenly, it all clicks for him. Why you were so insistant to push him away, why you seemed so hopeless. Protecting him by hurting yourself. How completely selfless, how utterly stupid.

“Oh, honey that’s…” he pulls you to him, wrapping his body around you until there’s nothing but him. His pretty girl is in tears. his pretty, perfect girl hurting. “I would never leave you, my love. Never once in a million lifetimes. I’m yours, darling, and you’re mine. We talked about the red string theory once and I’m afraid that I’m tied to you, hm?”

It’s not a question and he’s trailing kisses down your exposed neck. Your arms raise up on instinct and Satoru slips your, well, his shirt off of you. He knows you need him right now, to bring you back, to assure you, once again, that he’s yours, that he’ll stay despite everything.

Satoru lays you down on the bed as if you’re the most precious treasure and you look up at him, with those wide eyes, handing him your trust along with your heart.

“My pretty girl, my perfect girl.” he drawls, pressing kisses along your exposed chest and down your belly, until he reaches your underwear, playfully biting the little bow on them. “Can I take these off?”

You nod, but that’s not enough for him and he nips at the skin of your thigh, causing you to yelp. “Words, pretty girl.”

“Yes.” you answer, after a beat of silence.

And he’s granted heaven. Satoru slides off your underwear and tosses them somewhere into the room. More soft kisses follow and your breath hitches when his lips kiss where you need him most.

His skilled tongue flicks over your clit and your back immediately arches off of the bed. Coming down from so many emotions and reaching so many new ones left you more sensitive than ever.

Gojo chuckles and repeats the motion, before obliging your quiet whine with a practiced clockwise motion. He repeats the motion a few more times, revelling at the taste of you and the sound of your whines and soft moans. His pretty pretty girl.

He carefully enters one finger into you and immediately finds the spot that has you gasping. With each motion, he brings you back to himself, back to being completely his, none of that silly nonsense you were spewing before. He adds another, when he deems you wet enough.

Two of his fingers are already so much more than yours could ever be and the way his tongue keeps flicking over your clit in all the right ways has you moaning his name like a prayer. Truly, he’s the one praying to you.

“Ngh- Sa-Satoru, I-“

You don’t need to finish your sentence in order for him to know what you’ll say next. The flutter of your eyelashes and the way you squeeze his fingers so hard that he’s barely able to move them in and out is a telltale sign.

“You can cum, pretty girl. Mm, my pretty girl.”

He mumbles and then his tongue gets back to it’s former movements. You come with a high-pitched whine and he’s glad to finally taste you. Ambrosia couldn’t compare.

You come back down from your high and he’s already hovering over you, mouth wiped clean as he presses a bunch of butterfly kisses over your skin, anything he can touch.

He’s content with just pleasing you, with having you even a step closer to him. Back to where you are supposed to be. What a silly thought, that he’d ever consider leaving you when he looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky, the way he has never looked at anyone else.

Your eyes open and focus on him as you kiss him back, as soft as you can manage. Your hands bury into his hair and you have the adoring look back in your gaze. Even if it’s for a little while, before your worries start up again, he’s content.

“Want more, Toru, want you.”

Satoru swears that his eyes light up once he hears your words. You’re taking another step towards him, you’re almost back to him. “Are you sure, my love?”

You nod eagerly and it’s enough for him to take his clothes off. Your eyes are focused on his strong body, the sculpted muscles, the light hair that trails from his bellybutton right to his length.

He lays over you, careful not to let his weight fall onto you, always so careful with you. He rubs his cock over your pussy, covering it with your slick, attentive to make the intrusion as easy and pleasurable as possible.

He’s careful when he slides the tip in yet you still let out a soft whine. Satoru is a big man, towering over everyone no matter what room he’s in, it only makes sense that his cock is big, too. Doesn’t really help that he’s quite gifted on top of that.

“I know, I know, yeah. Hold onto me, darling. Mm, my love is doing so well.”

He feeds inch after inch of his large cock into you, watching your reactions deliberately, making sure not to hurt you.

Both you and Satoru moan when his pelvis meets yours, the sensation euphoric. His thrusts start out slow. He pulls almost all the way out before thrusting back in. Your head falls back onto the pillow as your moans get louder. He’s the only man who’s able to fuck you like this, to reach all the spots inside of you that make your eyes water.

“Do you feel good, darling? Am I making my perfect girl feel good.”

Your hands go over to cover your face and he tuts, pulling them away and gathering your wrists in one of his hands. It never fails to surprise you on how big they are. He, however, wants to see every reaction and hear every sound leaving you.

“Y-Yes, so good, feels so good.” You manage between loud moans. Screw the neighbours, Satoru thinks, screw everyone who isn’t you and him.

“Yeah? I feel good, too. So good, baby, so good. You’re perfect for me, the gods created you for me, yeah? So no more nonsense about me leaving.”

Your face heats up and back arches. His words reach you and then float around your otherwise empty mind.

His thrusts get quicker and less calculated as his head is thrown back. A quiet sigh of contentment leaves his pretty, glossy lips.

“Yeah, that’s right. No one. But us. Exists. Right now.” Satoru punctuates each little word with a deep thrust, breaths uneven, eyes closed in pleasure. “And we’ll overwrite the future if need be. If it means I get to stay. Then so be it.”

Another long, languid thrust and you come, nails dragging over his back as he spills into you, filling you with warmth.

You both take a moment to catch your breaths and soon, Satoru rolls off of you, his softened dick slipping out. He pulls you close to himself and presses a kiss to your forehead as you’re dozing off.

“Meant what I said. I’m staying and you won’t get rid off me, yeah? I love you more than I love anyone else, would die for you, kill for you… Perfect girl, my perfect girl.”

Satoru is not sure if you hear him before falling asleep, but he’ll be sure to remind you, should you ever forget again.

‘ CAN’T TAKE IT! — multi jjk men.

☰ ft : getō, gojo, toji, nanami, choso x f! reader

+ synopsis how they react to you “running” from them when it becomes too much to handle. | est. 0.9k+ wc.

cw/tw : pwp + separate smut, twitter p*rn, cervix fucking, belly bulging, overstimulation, size difference, dacryphilia, degrading (w/ gojo), spanking (w/ getō + toji), hair pulling (w/ toji), choking (w/ choso), big men with big cocks.

☰ SUGURU GETŌ ,

LINK | LINK | LINK

— getō is so mean and cocky about it :( he knows he has a fat cock and he knows how his cock is too big for your little cunt to handle all in one go, so he enjoys bullying your poor little pussy with a smirk till your begging for him to slow down..

a stinging swat cracks down onto your aching ass that already welts with large and cruel handprints, “what did i tell you about doing that?” getō grunts, clipping his hands around your sides to reel you back against him, again, in just the span of five minutes, “hm? use your words baby.” he sneers, forcing your hips against his till the hard flushed crown of his cock kisses your soft spot, kissing your sensitive cervix.

“you.. you said to s-stop runnin’ from you.” you hiccup. “then why do you keep doin’ that, huh?” getō knows exactly why, knowing how his cock ravages your poor and abused insides at each long, deep, and languid stroke he plunges with, but he just wants to hear it babble out from your mouth for his own pleasure.

“because! y’know you're too big to be going that fast!” you whine out, chest heaving and heart thumping against your ribs at the hefty feel of his heavy cock jerking and throbbing deep inside of you.

“you're really whiney tonight, y’know..” you feel getō’s hand soothe down your soft mound of flesh, wisping gentle fingers against that sensitive skin that quivers, “‘n y’know how i feel about that mouth of yours babbling out excuses rather than just listening.” he smirks.

another mean strike connects roughly against your skin, feeling it begin to itch at the stinging contact as getō pulls his hips back in sync, ready to clash with yours, and with a smirk resting at his lips, already hearing you draw out a whine for mercy..

☰ SATORU GOJO ,

LINK | LINK | LINK

— gojo’s ego could only shoot up so high when you're clinging at the sheets for your dear life for the way he bullies your little pussy. he can't help it either :| he can't help but watch you tremble beneath him with wary eyes as a plea to slow down, only to be met with cruel whispers and chuckles at your weakness..

“better take this cock like a good little slut,” just the second of trying to pop off his cock and hands flinging back to nudge at his abdomen, gojo’s larger hands are already swatting yours away and raking down your sides to reel you back in, “i said to take it, not run from it.” he jeers.

and gojo’s thrusts only get cruel at each plea you let out; each rough buck of his hips clashing with yours shooting you into a deeper reverie, falling almost entirely limp at the way he uses your sopping little pussy, using you till your shaking in his hands like a ragdoll. he can't help it either, adoring the way you stuff your weeping face into the fluff pillows, little hands clinging to the sheets as a safe haven, and feet softly trying to kick away the pain of delicious and debleating pleasure.

“begging for this cock all day like a little fuckin’ whore.” the way his cock jabs up and against your tummy sports a pretty bulge of his thick print pistoning in and out of you at each long stroke he sharply plunges in with.

“now your tryna run from it,” he tch’s, almost laughing at the way you shiver and squirm below him, almost wanting to mock the way you cry out how it's too much, but only a silent editorial falls through, “such a whore, can't even take cock, pathetic..”

☰ TOJI FUSHIGURO ,

LINK | LINK | LINK

— toji is a big ol’ bully :( he fucks his fat cock so deep into your abused little cunt till you start to cry, till little tears cling at your lashes just for him to only mock you. mimic your words like a mean ol’ bully would :( he’ll even watch you hiccup till you settle down with a stern, annoyed look on his face just for him to do it all again..

“the fuck you runnin’ for? huh?” a guttural growl scratches at toji’s throat raw, annoyed, again, that you keep whining and thrusting upwards and away from his cock that buries deep into your little cunt.

“get your ass back here.” with his draw of words, a sharp prick lands against the curve of your ass, and it's cruel, feeling his callused fingers drag along your skin till it raked with his print, even feeling the cold wedding band around his finger drag against you.

“‘s too much t-toji—!” your agonized plea that falters into the many pillows your face is flushed into gets strained from your throat, ripping a cry to fumble through when his hand clipped through your hair, pulling from the thick roots.

“aww, what's that? you said ‘s too much?” he mocks, almost chuckling at the way you nod in mercy.

“too bad. you're a big girl so take this fuckin’ cock like one.” the sharp buck of his strong hips clashing against yours forces your body to jolt upward at the rough contact, almost knocking the air out your heaving lungs, feeling how his heavy cock stuffs your gummy walls to the hilt, how you can feel it bulge against your insides, feeling the fat crown of his cock kissing your cervix when he picks back up his mean rhythm..

☰ KENTO NANAMI ,

LINK | LINK | LINK

— nanami is so gentle and patient with you, even when he grunts a little for having to pull you back against him.. but that doesn't stop him from soothing you, rubbing your tummy that bulges with the thick print of his cock, soothing your flushed face that pearls with beads of sweat and salty tears, and making you cry because it gets too much to handle for your little cunt to take :(

“it's alright sweetheart, you can take it,” nanami seats you back onto him, grasping a vice around the dip of your hips to hold you down, “take your time, you can do it.” he feels you shaking above him, legs trembling and back curling forward in defeat.

“kento i cant— it's too much, i can't..” you whimper, clammy hands clinging to his broad shoulders as a safe haven, and the teary look you give him in failure makes him sigh heavily.

“yes you can,” your eyes lighten, batting up to his in plea as he sits there, cock throbbing deep in your gummy walls, “don't look at me like that and get to it.” he's not asking anymore, hearing the way his demand rolled off his tongue like a sharp blade scratching at your ears.

“but—”

“no. you take it or do i need to do all the work?” nanami’s grip around you tightens, almost pricking his clipped nails into your fevered skin. you quickly swallow down your pitty, knowing, either way, you weren't going to get your way. and knowing you can't take his cock when you're riding him like this, but you can take your time, unlike when he's in control.. and he knows that too.

so, you press your shaky legs upwards and plop back down against him, filling yourself up with the fat of his cock..

☰ CHOSO!

LINK | LINK | LINK

— his grip gets cruel :( his big callused hands clip around your sides and throat so roughly and firm you can't move, not even a nudge, but only bounce along with the hard thrusts of his hips clashing with yours :( choso just wants you to be a big girl for him..

“move again,” choso was quick to wrap his long, slender fingers around your throat that bobs in sync with your hiccups, “‘n watch what happens.” his threat is cruel to your ears, making your heart swell in defeat, and forcing yourself to settle below him, to open your shaky legs back up and swallow down your hiccups.

he waits and watches you with hooded eyes, they're murky, clouded, and filled with ecstasy but drilled with annoyance from your stubbornness, “you done?” he asks, almost as if he's playing a cruel game with you because his mean grip around your throat only tightens at his question.

hardly the smallest of squeaks falter from between your lips as you try to answer, but the crush to your windpipe is forcing otherwise, almost as if he's tired of hearing you whine..

you nod your head in response.

“good girl.” choso draws his hips back, angling himself just right to pump up his thick cock back into you, to fill you back up and watch you squirm at the debleating pleasure rising at your tummy. and as soon as he picks back up his rhythm, your shaky hands are already trying to push him away, pressing the tips of your fingers against his abdomen, feeling the tense muscles flex beneath the pads of your fingers.

“knock it off,” his free hand swats yours away, “just a little longer, okay? you think you can do that?” he knows he's lying, feeling the need to go all night..

prompt: post-apocalypse ghost/reader fic where ghost and the rest of his team come across the feral, blood-soaked reader who stabs first and asks questions later. (on ao3 here)

-

The world ends on a Monday.

Abysmal timing; they’re on leave by chance, the whole lot of them. Soap and Gaz are playing cards in the barracks when they get the call. Price is still in his office when a phone in the corner of the room that never rings suddenly does (he stares at it for a time before picking it up). Ghost is someplace, no one knows for sure; what they do know is that when he does finally answer their calls, he’s out of breath and there’s a thread of panic in his voice that makes the blood in Soap’s veins run cold. 

He’s never heard him sound like that. He never will again.

The virus rages across the country, hopping borders like they melt away into the ether. Country after country toppelling to this unnamed virus that demolishes society so completely that there was never a chance for the military to contain it. That chance evaporates before even the faintest spark of hope is lit. 

Soap is used to killing, but what he never gets used to is the sight of those things that take human shape. Calling them zombies is easy at first, but even that name comes with a sense of distance; it evokes things seen in films and tv shows, not the real flesh-and-blood of it all, not sitting in a caravan speeding down the motorway with bodies torn apart and scattered across the road. He learns to bite his teeth and hold his bile down at the sight of one of those creatures hunched over the masticated remains of a person. 

Then suddenly it’s seven months later. The core unit of them make their way across the continent, taking back roads where they’re less likely to encounter the hoards of infected. They’ve had too many close calls for them to take chances anymore—even armed to the gills and strapped in body armor (the remnants of the military efforts that collapsed within days), Gaz’s shoulder pad has crumpled beneath too sharp teeth and Roach has had his legs swept out from under him, his throat nearly exposed, nearly torn open.

Ghost’s hands are still wet with gore from taking that infected apart. If any of them make it, it will likely be him.

A part of Soap worries about Ghost. Even he feels the tender edges of his own humanity bristle at the day-in and day-out struggle that is now a luxury rather than a hardship. Just being able to survive is a miracle. Ghost just goes dark. From the little Soap knows of Ghost (which is still more than most; he’s confident enough to say that of their group, he’s the one that Ghost shows himself to the most), he knows that Ghost has already endured enough suffering for an army. Never mind a single man. 

There’s a flatness behind his eyes these days and it scares Soap, just a bit. He no longer looks like a person behind a mask but rather the sun-baked skull itself. 

His worry only fades when they come across the girl.

She’s a feral little thing, half-starved and out of her mind. They see her slip in and out of abandoned houses when they make their way through a small village in the French countryside (or what Soap thinks is France), hair matted with sweat and blood. 

It’s Ghost that pauses, Ghost that makes them stop and detours long enough to creep up on her, holding a big hand to her mouth when she howls and tries to tear his whole arm off. It takes over an hour to calm her down long enough to reassure her that they mean her no harm. She tries to take off no less than six times.

Soap has never seen Ghost look smitten, but there’s no other word for it. 

When Price tentatively suggests leaving the girl behind—not a terrible suggestion after she tries to stab Ghost—the look Ghost levels him with brooks no further arguments. They’re keeping the girl. 

She’s his problem, as far as Soap and the rest of them are concerned. No name, unless it’s Soap yelling “Girl” or “Hey, you!” when she does something stupid like actively seeking out infected to kill. Ghost chuckles all deep baritone when he sees her hack away at an infected man’s neck. It’s enough to make a man hurl. Love in a time of zombies. 

He hears them murmuring to each other sometimes, late at night when the team is holed up in a house or a barn they’ve commandeered. Doors always reinforced, someone standing guard on the roof. The low rasp of Ghost’s voice, almost susurrous, almost intimate. Her voice like a chittering wolf. 

Hovering between sleep and wakefulness, Soap doesn’t look away from the wall in front of him. He knows if he does, if he turns over from where he’s supposed to be sleeping, he’ll see Ghost hovering over the girl roughly half his size, her face blocked only by the way his arms frame either side of her head. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to stomach the sight of his friend’s hips bucking into the girl.

He hears him mutter something like, “You needed to be found. I needed to find you.” and then it’s enough. He lets his brain shut off. 

If it keeps Ghost sane and with them, so be it. 

#𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐒

☰ SYNOPSIS ⋮ it’s not suguru’s fault satoru doesn’t treat you right, and it’s not his fault he can treat you better

— pairing ⋮ geto x reader (x gojo)

— tags ⋮ nsfw 18+, fem! reader, toxic! gojo, gojo x reader in the beginning, college! au, cheating (you on gojo), lovesick geto, toxic relationships, mentions of alcohol and drinking, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, slight exhibitionism (he fucks you against a window), disclaimer this is purely fiction

— word count ⋮ 6.8k

— notes ⋮ ty ris and kitty cat for beta reading and micheth and boy scout and viva my love for looking over bits and helping me as i sobbed dbdhjfggf love you all tons

the party should be boring—it should be a bit of a slow one since it’s date night for you and gojo. geto figures if he’s not going to be occupied by his best friend, then he might as well occupy himself with a stranger for the night. it’s a bit of a routine, really, fishing out girls with eyes as close to yours as he can find, and a smile as sweet as he can get. it’s never enough, but he supposes it’s better than nothing.

he smiles at a few girls, watches the way their eyes brighten and their lashes bat and their smiles are so sincere, and then he can’t help but imagine what your smile would look like if you looked at him like that. 

he’s broken from his thoughts when he sees a pair of very familiar eyes—ones that are all too close to yours, and then he furrows his brows. it can’t be you—can it? you’re not supposed to be here, you’re supposed to be enjoying the night with his best friend (although, the thought does make his blood boil, so he can’t really say he’s complaining if you’re not.)

but he’s not mistaken, and there you are, walking in clung to gojo’s arm and pressed into his side (as always) as he saunters up to geto, and there’s a slight glumness on your face that geto can’t help but notice. he offers you a gentle smile, one you just barely reciprocate, one that even as fleeting and half-hearted as it is, makes his heart pound in his chest. he lets gojo clap his shoulder in greeting as he offers a nod in response, eyes still trained on you as you stare down at your feet. 

you look perfect. 

Keep reading

JJK 236 SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT

Gojo x reader angst. Not proofred, I’m in shambles, refuse to believe this. I’m so sorry my sunshine.

It was a cold night when you both laid in the balcony of your shared apartment. It was in the suburbs, so the night sky was visible. Little by little, darkness swallowed all the rays of golden sunshine and what seemed to be millions of stars lit up his handsome face. You turned to him softly, a hand reaching out for him, yet stopping.

Satoru always had his infinity off when he was with you, yet there was still hesitation. The white-haired man turned to you, ocean blue eyes managing to fit so many emotions in just a single fleeting glance. He reached out first, carefully touching your cold hand.

"What’s on your mind?” he asked softly.

When he was with you, in the comfort of your shared home, he didn’t need to pretend. No jokes, no tricks, no faked cheery personality. He didn’t need to be the strongest when he was with you. You simply needed him. Satoru was enough, flaws and hurts, pain and suffering and all the mangled, torn up bits of him that would push away anyone else. You stayed. You always stayed. Satoru wasn’t perfect, but he was yours and that was enough.

The wind blew through his hair, the strands flying into his perfect face as he smiled gently, still awaiting your answer.

“Can you promise me something, Satoru?”

He didn’t even draw a breath before you got your answer.

“Anything.”

You stayed quiet for a moment. Was what you’re about to say too much? Would someone, up there above in the night sky, mock you and laugh? A mere mortal asking for a promise from a man akin to god. You hoped they wouldn’t, granting you salvation, if even only for tonight.

“Please promise you’ll always come back to me.”

This time, Satoru hesitated. His eyes once again focused on yours and he wrapped you up in a comforting embrace. His breaths were soft and warm on your skin as you closed your eyes. Did the gods already laugh? A flash of lightning came down from the sky, illuminating Gojo’s concerned face.

Perhaps it was their warning, a sign to stop asking for so much. But was it really too much?

Satoru softly kissed you, his lips feeling like heaven on yours. It took a moment for him to pull away, a smile on his pale face, as if concern shown before was nothing but a trick of your mind.

“You know I always come back to you.”

After a while, you slipped into numb, dreamless sleep in your embrace. Gojo carried you back to your shared bed, pulling you closer to him, as if afraid that you’d disappear.

What you weren’t aware of, is that he was praying to the same gods. A life with you, nothing more would be enough for him. The sun came up slowly, and Gojo knew that his prayers would not be answered.

***

You clutched your lover’s body to yours, deep sobs wretching their way out of your throat.

The world seemed silent as your whispers of promises to fix him up, to make everything okay again, trailed off into the night.

Nobody would answer you now. For the first time ever, his body was cold to touch.

You screamed and screeched at everyone, trying to get close.

“He has his infinity off! Do-don’t! Don’t fucking touch him!”

Nothing was ever going to be fine again. No… ‘Fine’ was not the right word to use. You were never going to be whole. Tonight, the gods and monsters ripped away a part of your soul, the one that has crawled inside you and taken up so much more space than your own.

You looked up to the inky black sky, as if to say one last prayer. To make Satoru un-break his promise. To make him come back safe and sound, like he was always meant to.

There were twice as many stars as usual.

Thinking about how big Jason is. 6’4 and just made of muscle. Thick thighs and a big chest with strong arms. Large hands that love to grip your thighs, lifting and tossing you with ease. And he knows what he does to you - little smirks and teasing touches give him away. And he is a tease, giving you only a little taste of him before pulling away, cooing at you in that mocking voice, asking if you’re gonna be a good girl and play nice.

Healing

Pairing: Leon S. Kennedy x Reader

Description: Leon helps you overcome depression by helping you do things you don't have energy for

૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

Word Count: 1.7k (short, yes but this is just something to post until my main stories ands requests are done)

Warnings/Tags: Mostly fluff. Some kissing. Mentions of sex near the end wink wink ;)

A/N: My heart is gonna burst out of my chest and I'm literally the one who wrote this HJHSH.

You were roused from your dazed slumber by a sharp knock at the door. Initially, you considered ignoring it and pretending not to be home, hoping the visitor would leave. But the knocking grew louder and consistent with each passing second.

"Hey. Its Leon. I know you're in there".

You open an eye slightly, pushing yourself up a bit from the couch. Leon? The hell did he want? Wasn't he supposed to be off in Italy somewhere? Another knock rang through your apartment, this one a bit quieter though.

Leon's muffled voice reached your ears through the door. "If you don't answer, I'm just gonna assume you're dead and kick this door off its hinges."

You groan, loud enough so you know he can hear you. Getting up from the couch, you shuffle slowly towards the door. You pause as you lift your hand towards the handle. Your apartment was filthy, and your clothes hadn't been changed in at least a week.

You smelled awful. No way you could let him in.

"Im sorry Leon, I'm sick. Come back later please?" you say, knowing damn well he wasn't about to just leave. He never gives up that easy, stubborn bastard.

"I haven't seen you in like 2 weeks. Plus I found your notebook in my car. Thought you might want it back" he says plainly.

As annoying as it was, you DID want that notebook back. It had pretty important notes in it for your office job. Sucking in a deep breath, you unlock the door and open it just a bit. Leon was standing there in a somewhat tight fitting black shirt and cargo pants. He must've came straight after work.

"Can you just slide it to me through the crack?" you ask, the sun hurting your eyes. Leon didn't respond, instead taking his time surveying what little he could see of you through the slightly opened door.

"You look well rested" he chuckled. He was referring to the obvious bags under your eyes. Irritated, you start closing the door again, not even caring about the notebook at that point. You were too slow though, Leon already had his foot jammed between the door and its frame.

"Im sorry. I didn't mean it in a bad way." he said, eyes filling with a look of worry. "Can I please come in? Im worried about you".

The soft tone of his voice wrecked your heart. You cursed yourself as you opened the door wide enough for him to step inside. Embarrassing as it was, it was nice to see him.

"Excuse the mess..." you mutter, picking up a few stray clothes that you had lazily thrown near the door. Leon stepped inside, looking around the place that had once been spotless. Dishes piled in the sink, various ramen cups and wrappers strewn about. This definitely wasn't like you. Anxious about his silence, you sat back down on the couch.

"I know I know...its gross. Can I please have my notebook now?"

Leon shook his head, his eyebrows furrowed as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "It's not gross...its just so unlike you. What happened? Are you okay?". He takes your notebook out of his pocket and passes it to you.

You hesitated before answering.

"Life's just hard Leon. You of all people should know this. Can you go now?"

He went silent, reaching up towards your knotted and messy hair. You flinched, not used to being touched in such an intimate way. He rubbed a few strands between his fingers.

"How about this. You let me comb your hair, and I'll leave you alone. Deal?" he said, giving you a small smile. You eyed him suspiciously. Why did he want to help you so bad?

"Deal."

---------------------------

And thats how you ended up in the bathtub. While showing him where your hair stuff was, he had commented something about all the dandruff that was accumulating on your scalp and how water would help with detangling. You said you didn't have the energy to wash anything, and he'd offered to do it for you.

"You'd better not fucking peek" you had threatened, not really having the energy to fight him on it.

"You have my word. I swear."

He was kneeled beside the bathtub now, running shampoo through your hair while you leaned back. His touch was surprisingly gentle, and with each stroke you felt yourself relaxing. Everytime you winced when he'd detangle a knot, he'd quickly ask if you were ok or if you wanted him to stop.

"Im fine, just hurry up" you said, knowing damn well that you didn't really want him to. It was the first time in weeks that you'd felt the touch of another human being. It was nice. Some time passed before he was finally finished.

"Hey, I think thats all of the tangles. Do you want help getting out?" he asked, handing you a nearby towel. You blushed, and he immediately sensed your discomfort.

"Ah-shit. I didn't mean it like that, I-"

"It's fine" you said, interrupting him. You extended your hand towards him and he helped you out of the tub with a firm grip so you didn't slip. You had to admit it was funny how hard he was trying not to stare at your naked and dripping body. You wrapped yourself in the baby blue towel, shivering slightly cause of the cold bathroom air.

"I'm gonna go to my room and get changed now. Can you wait downstairs please?" you say, voice barely above a whisper. He nodded, leaving the bathroom swiftly. After hearing his footsteps stop at the end of the stairwell, you make your way into your bedroom.

After getting dried off and dressed in your room, you make your way downstairs. You're surprised to see the living area is almost spotless now. Leon is sweeping some dirt in a dustpan and looks up at you.

"Oh hey. I hope you don't mind. I just figured to clean this place a bit before leaving" he says, making his way over to your trashcan. You watch silently as he dumps the dirt into the opening and sets aside the broom.

Why is he so nice? You had been ignoring him this whole time. You don’t deserve this at all. You don’t deserve even a drop of of kindness from anyone.

You feel tears forming in your eyes.

Leon notices your expression and starts making his way towards you. "I-I'm really sorry, I thought this would help yo-". You aren't even listening. You aren't sure why but you feel the desperate need to hug him so tightly and never let go.

So you do. And he gladly hugs you back. You start sobbing into his chest, tears wetting his shirt a bit. This was very unlike you. You were usually more closed off with him.

"Do you want to sit down?" he asks, wiping some of your tears with his thumb. You look up at him and nod. He takes your hand and leads you to the now clutter free couch. Laying on his chest, you start venting about your troubles to him. How you feel like you can't live another day on this shitty planet. How your sadness is consuming you, etc. He listens to all of it, not interrupting, running his fingers through your somewhat wet hair the entire time.

You feel stupid when you finish.

"I can't believe I just told you all of that"

He chuckles, reaching over to grab your hand again. "Its healthy to get that stuff out. You can't keep it inside. I definitely know what that's like" he says. You feel your face get hot, not wanting him to pull his hand away. He's so breathtaking and you feel this tight knot in your stomach every time you look at him.

"I do feel better now. Thank you so much for coming to see me. I would've just rotted in this apartment if you hadn’t come by" you express, giving him a smile. Wasn't far from the truth honestly. You had planned to cease contact with the outside world altogether.

"Don't mention it. Isn't that what friends are for?" he says. You look up at his eyes, unmoving. You both stare at each other for what feels like eternity. You reach up to grab his face, feeling a bit bold all of a sudden.

Something in his expression changes, and he swiftly leans down to give you a small kiss on the lips. You both freeze again, unsure of what the other person wants. But eventually, you both move in towards each other, gentle kisses turning into rougher, more passionate ones.

You both have to eventually stop to get some air, but it's clear Leon doesn't want to. As you catch your breath, Leon gives you gentle kisses on your neck, squeezing your hand with a tight grip.

"Please don't think I came here cause I wanted something from you" he says, face still buried in your neck. "I just needed to see you again. I got so worried when you didn't text back."

"I don't think that Leon, don't worry. I wanted to answer you. I really did. I just...couldn't" you reply, feeling that twinge of sadness in your heart. You should've answered him. Just another thing you get to beat yourself up about later. He lifts his head up, turning your face so you look at him.

"I get it. Just don't do it again. You can't run from your problems, you have people who care about you. You can always always talk to me ok?" he says, eyes glazed as if he's about to cry himself. You nod, and he leans in to give you another kiss. This time however, he stops, a smirk forming on his face.

Confused, you grit your teeth. "Something wrong?"

He shakes his head, smirk getting bigger.

"Of course not, but I was thinking. If your still feeling a bit blue, I know just the thing that'll get you feeling better."

You tilt your head, curious as to what he's up to now. "Oh yeah? What's that?" you ask. He pushes you on your back, positioning himself so he's towering above you, hands on each side of your head. Your breath gets caught in your throat.

"Its a physical activity. But don't worry if your not feeling enough energy to move around still. All you have to do is lie there and take it."

guys pls let me know if you want a part 2 cause im feeling SO fired up now

your older boyfriend is just soo considerate ♡

disclaimer.. age gap relationship, re6/vendetta leon so 37+, reader is 21+, first part is fluff, other part.. size kink, like a big one, calls reader small/tiny, hint of dacryphilia, he likes taking care of you, it feeds his ego, roughness, spitting, choking, manhandling, this is so self indulgent don’t even talk to me, just jumbled headcanons about size kink w older bf leon

reblogs and feedback are appreciated. requests are open

leon would spend hours upon hours, way into the early morning listening to your worries and woes, how your job was stressing you out, how you are convinced that one professor is failing you on purpose, or how your friends had gone quiet on you suddenly. any little worry he would reassure away alongside a firm kiss on your forehead.

you admired him so very much, if he couldn't see you had the biggest heart eyes for him then he was a fool. every little thing he did, all his silly little habits had your heart bursting at the seams.

he would encourage you over the smallest of things,

oh you learned a neat new hobby? that's great, leon wants to hear every little detail on what it's about and how far you've gotten with it.

you've worked so hard this week? you need a little treat, he's giving you his card for the day.

got out of bed today despite struggling? you're spending the entire night in his arms, you want a massage? head rub? shoulder to cry on? you get it all. you're the most important thing to him.

he'd showed up at your college/university to pick you up early, and it was lunch time so he caught a lot of attention. "leonnn!" you called out ever so sweetly, quickly rushing over to your boyfriend in the parking lot, admiring your cute little outfit you adorned yourself in today, "y'wanna meet some of my friends?"

you had done nothing but gush about this man to all of your friends, and when they finally met him, they understood, they more then understood, some of them were evidently jealous.

you'd never have to lift a finger with him around, he spoiled you rotten.

okay sappy stuff over, i wanna fuck this old man

he's just soo considerate.. ♡

that you don't even realize his presence until he is pressed against your ass, plucking your purposefully placed by him favourite glass down from the top shelf, his other hand swiftly finding place under your shirt, warm fingertips pinching the soft flesh of your hip.

"you're too small, you'll hurt yourself." he'd scold you, lips attaching to your neck, laying fleeting kisses there which got your breath heavy as your hands gripped onto the kitchen counter, feeling him press you further into the appliance.

it was a little humiliating when he’d whisk you into his lap in public, important meetings, fancy dinners, you name it, no matter what, you’re sitting on his lap.

he’d watch you toy with his fingers, fiddle with his rings just to see how small they were against his, would be purposefully pressing you against his hard-on just to watch the way you dig your nails into his palm helplessly.

constantly squishing you against him, towering over you, pinning you to things, against things.

tell him he won’t fit, give him fat tears rolling down your cheek to match and he is talking so sweet to you, “ohh baby, s’okay, i got you sweetheart shh shh, i’ll make it feel so good.”

sometimes even he’d use the excuse that he’s just too big, like there’s no way you’re not getting his fingers fucked into your pussy and ate out before you attempt to take even an inch of him :((

“you’re so tight baby, how many times have i fucked this cute little pussy and you’re still not used to it?” he’d rasp out, dragging out every second of pushing his fat cock into your pussy to set an example.

“needy cunt can’t stop sucking me in, relax sweetheart.” he’d coo in a voice that sounded like pure honey.

the way you could feel the burning stretch every time he pushed his cock in your cunt had your back lurching off of the mattress, he had to push you back down with his hand pressing against your stomach which sent you into a frenzy, seeing the way his fingers sprawled out across your stomach.

bulge kink ♡

when he first saw the outline of him in your fucking tummy it sent him absolutely ballistic, he’d be sweating, dick twitching inside you and saying the crudest nastiest things as his fingers trailed the shape,

“look, look right fucking now-“ he grunted and you’d have to force yourself out of your daze, leaning up on your elbows and seeing what he saw, you’d cum right on the spot, especially when he stuffs himself deeper, he’d be totally pussy whipped, pussy drunk, whatever you wanna call it, he is just crazy for it.

“you feel my that baby? deep inside you? mmh? you make me feel so good, you know that don’t, you angel?” he wouldn’t let up on you unless you gave him a coherent answer.

a lot of bouncing on his knee, pretends not to notice you’re all hot and bothered until you’re eventually rutting against him, begging for his attention with tears in your eyes, sticky underwear, and a puddle of your arousal making his denim even darker.

loves the way you struggle to take his cock down your throat, you always have your hands all over him, throat sore, gagging and spitting to try make it easier- you’re so sloppy and your teeth graze against him a lot but he can’t help but find it endearing, just means he has a lot to teach you.

one day, laying you down to fuck your throat, watching the way his cock slides deeper and deeper, he can see how your throat expands to accommodate for his size.

manhandling you, like a lot, like everywhere, i told you you never have to lift a finger. his strength would make your stomach clench in desperation every time, you’re riding him but he still takes the lead, hips fucking up into you as he pulls your hair, forcing your back to arch so he can toy with your nipples in his mouth.

his entire body engulfing yours as he fucks you into the mattress, arms flexing either side of your head, all you can smell is him, all you can feel is him, everything is about him.

if you ever got too tired from doing such a good job bouncing on his dick he’d let you lay limply against him so he can use you like his own personal cocksleeve ♡

this man fucks you against walls, lifts you up to fuck you, the most uncomfortable positions are just so easy for him- they’re so worth it, he loves nothing more than wrecking your cute little cunt.

always slapping away your hands when you try to initiate anything, thumb playing with your clit before you could even reach down, his hand around your throat before you could even push his hand towards it, fingers stuffed down your throat before your tongue even fully hung out your mouth, spit dripping down your tongue as the two of you made out.

“let me take care of you.”

#28 & #46 w/ Asra

Pairing: Asra Alnazar x f!reader Genre: S M U T Warnings: oh lord. Choking, degradation, master kink, spanking, oral (giving), mentions of exhibitionism, bondage, oral (receiving), fingering, and orgasm denial Summary: (Y/n) teases Asra all day and he eventually decides it’s time for her to receive her punishment  Prompt #46: “Looks like someone is needy.” Prompt #28: “Did you two just have sex?” A/N: hey so I recently-ish learned that Asra is nonbinary and uses he/him and they/them pronouns and doesn’t use gendered terms. With this knowledge, I went through and took out words like sir, man, and so on. If you read it and still find something wrong with it, please don’t hesitate to tell me!! I want to represent him correctly!! Thank you and enjoy!!

Keep reading

bnha men x f!reader

songs they'd fuck you to + smut blurbs

Cws - petnames(puppy, baby), dom!character, sub!reader, impact play, degradation, praise, daddy kink. 

a/n - bakugou. midoriya. denki. hawks. sero. monoma. kirishima. todoroki. repost from my old blog doinmybesthere. MINORS DNI | Please have an age in your bio before interacting.

Midoriya - let me love you, Ariana Grande

Your legs are shaking and you’ve got fistfuls of his comforter as he rips a third orgasm out of you, flicking his rough tongue over your swollen clit one more time. “Hurts,” you get out when your vision clears and he’s still between your legs, “Zuku, please, feels too good,” he chuckles, blowing softly on your burning skin. “I haven’t even fucked you yet puppy, we’re just getting started.” 

Bakugou - Cry baby, The Neighbourhood

“C’mon bitch,” Bakugou snarls, landing a harsh slap on your ass, “You know better than to cum without permission,” you’re on your hands and knees on the bed, whimpering as he fucks you through your high, only to yelp when he reaches underneath you and pinches your aching clit, “Since you wanna cum like a fuckin’ whore how ‘bout we see how many times you can do it before you’re crying, huh?”

Sero - High For This - The Weekend 

You’ve been kissing for what feels like hours, every brush of his hands on your skin sends a shiver up your spine, “Baby,” he growls in your ear, the vibrations and the softness of his breath make you grind harder against the thigh he’s slotted carefully between your legs. “Not yet.” He cups your face in your hands, pressing his lips to your forehead before gently tugging your pants down to your knees, and kissing a burning path down your chest. 

Denki - Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene, Hozier

You roll your hips, letting out a gasp when he thrusts up to meet you before he grabs your thighs, warmth pooling in your cheeks, “You’re so fuckin’ pretty babe,” he breathes, “So pretty, and all mine.” He lets you lift up off of him and slams you back down again. “Denki, I,” your eyes roll back as he takes control, setting a brutal pace. “That’s it,” he coos affectionately, “Cum for me, baby.” 

Shouto - Do It For Me, Rosenfeld

You can feel the nubs of the carpet cutting into your knees but you don’t dare move as Shouto daintily presses his thumb against your tongue, letting drool pool around his digit and fall out of your open mouth. He leans back in his chair, looking bored. “Disgusting.” Your face burns with humiliation but you know better than to move, to wipe your chin clean. His expression remains neutral as he unzips his fly, pumping his hard cock in front of you. “C'mere pretty girl," he coos, dripping condescension, "Suck.” 

Keigo - Two Weeks, FKA Twigs

“Fuck, come on sweetheart,” Hawks relaxes on the couch, eyes closing in bliss as you bounce up and down on his cock, “That’s it, baby,” he growls, “Come on, ride that shit,” he opens his golden eyes for just a moment, reaching down to circle your clit with his thumb, watching you collapse into him as you cunt flutters around his length. 

Kirishima - National Anthem, Lana Del Rey

“Oh god,” You look up at him, eyes wide with innocence even when he was spearing you with his huge cock, “God, daddy, you’re so big,” you breathe, and he somehow gets even harder at the praise, “Yeah kitten,” he says, “Who makes you feel this good?” You cling to his shoulders for dear life as he rails you, completely unaware of his own strength, “You do,”  you get out, “You make me feel s’good, daddy.” 

Monoma - Hatefuck, Cruel Youth

“This is the last fucking time.” You say over your shoulder, all the air gushing from your lungs as Monoma roughly bends you over the bed, flipping up your tiny skirt. You don’t have to turn around to know he’s smirking, lining himself at your entrance, rubbing the head of his cock on your soaking panties. “What are you waiting for?” You hiss, turning around. He chuckles, shaking his head at you. “I think, tonight, I want to hear you beg.” 

Kite?

Yeah I'd suck his dick

Iwaizumi x f!reader; cheater!Oikawa x f!reader

Word count: 6,4k

Category: Angst, Smut

Warnings: Cheating, cursing, sex, some choking, slapping and mentions of violence (reader basically asks to be hurt), daddy kink (not ddlg), scummy Oikawa being an asshole, kind of toxic Iwaizumi, uh, that’s about it? Dm me if I missed anything.

Summary: Having your heart broken by Oikawa Tooru is unexpectedly hard, but it’s even harder to let yourself fall for someone new.

Songs that inspired this: “Sparks” by Coldplay, “Song for a guilty sadist” by Crywank and “Skinny love” by Bon Iver 

Huge thanks to @velvet-kissesss for editing this and always being the first to read my stories! <3

Oikawa Tooru is like the sun. His smile is as bright as a summer day, his gaze as cold as ice, but he‘s still your sun. Or he used to be. Clouds of doubt that came in the form of suspicious text messages and excuses clouded his brightness and warmth that never really cleared away. 

He‘s busy busy busy. You‘re always wasting his time, you‘re always annoying him with your silly messages, asking- no, begging for his time; which you know you won‘t get. Your eyes and heart are completely filled with Tooru, your sun.

Even his friends notice the odd behaviour of their former captain yet they mask their concerns for your wellbeing with jokes and laughs once you stop showing up to their weekly dinners. 

The storm started when you overheard the conversation you weren‘t supposed to hear. It‘s a rare occasion to be home at the same time as Tooru, even in your shared apartment, your boyfriend so kindly paid for (You offered to pay rent, but even if he would‘ve accepted your offer, a broke college student would never be able to afford it). His voice sounded slightly annoyed, the notes barely there, but from the time you spent together you could clearly tell he was having an argument. 

“I’m not fooling around. I don’t know what to do,” 

You couldn’t tell what the argument was about, but you pressed yourself against the living room wall that divided the two rooms. Eavesdropping wasn’t good, but you were worried for Tooru. He was never home, never shared his worries and now he was getting into arguments. Your anxiety was rising. What if something was going on? 

“I’m not leading her on, you don’t know what you’re talking about! The only girl you’ve ever dated left you before college started. Adult relationships are so much harder,” 

There was only silence for a moment that seemed to stretch out into infinity. 

“I’m thinking about ending things. I think… I’m almost sure I’m falling out of love with her,”

Keep reading

samara’s home cooking show 💞

nsfw / fem!reader

surprisingly, miya atsumu knows how to not be loud; you used to think you were the quiet one in the relationship.

during movies, he’d usually lean over to tell you how he knows that actress from somewhere, a finger pointing at the screen, and the entire cinema would hear. back in college, you’d be whispering about a professor that annoyed you, and when he’d answer you, he’d speak loud enough for the whole room to know.

when he’s on the court during a game, he’d announce his team’s next strategy like it was a public service announcement. he’d laugh so proudly after too, and the pleading looks you’d get from sakusa to get your man to shut up would make him laugh even harder.

so you couldn’t believe it when you found out that miya atsumu knew how to stay quiet — well, it was really him finding out that you could be louder than him, because how could he believe it when his meek and quiet little girlfriend could moan so loud for the whole city to hear?

he’s pounding into you from behind, your hips slowly being mottled with shades of purple and yellow from the strong grip his fingers had on them, and you’re so loud; he’s already gagged you with your soiled panties and shoved your head down into the pillow, but still, you’re so fucking loud.

“be quiet for me, princess,” his voice quietly rasped, right hand squeezing your bruised hip as a warning. “don’t want the neighbors hearing how needy you are — just me, yeah? only your tsumu can hear.”

he thinks he hears a muffled yeah amongst the unintelligible babbles and groans, but he still grabs you by your hair and pulls your head back to his shoulder. his right arm wraps around your waist, pinning his chest to your back, and his left hand releases your hair to throw your panties out of your mouth before wrapping around your neck. his hips continue to piston in and out of you and he’s sure you’d collapse without his hold from how much your legs are shaking.

“you gonna stay quiet for me now?” he chuckles, right hand dipping down to play with your clit.

and as soon as you’re about to say that you can’t, your climax hits you out of nowhere. your eyes squeeze shut and tears drip down your face while your mouth opens in a silent scream.

“so good for me, baby,” he groans, watching how good you look when you cum, “so fucking good.”

but he doesn’t stop, and he continues hit that spot with every thrust, fingers unceasing in its movements.

“stay quiet for me a little more, princess? i’m not done.”

eighteen PATHETIC MEN in your AREA with the WETTEST SADDEST EYES youve ever seen want to TALK ABOUT THE WORST MUSIC YOUVE EVER HEARD with YOU!

My peak vibe is “the most annoying person you’ve ever met but with just enough charisma to pull it off somehow”

Chapter three: Lock your doors

Word count: 3.8k

Category: hard angst, smut

Chapter warnings: drugs, mentions of medicine, light smut, guns 

Summary: There are three hot guys who want to be with you, however, there are a few problems along the way. One of them is a plug, another one wants to keep you all to himself and the third one - a med student who deals drugs on the side. Your main problem, though? You have a terminal illness that has a very low life expectancy. Spiraling down a dangerous path seems like a fun way to spend your last years.

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Maybe your mind-set of "you only live once" finally did you some favours, because now you have a date set with one of the hottest guys ever.

Friday comes fast and after swallowing down a bunch of medicine you’re sitting in an expensive car of none other than Kuroo Tetsuro.

The dark of the night swallows the blurry autumn sun and speckles the sky with stars. Your nerves are fried, fingers twitching and leg bouncing up and down, up and down.

"You’re nervous," Kuroo hums, but it’s not a question, merely an observation, "Your leg keeps bouncing up and down." The steering wheel is left in one of his huge hands, while the other one finds its way to your knee, gently squeezing, "Do I make you nervous?"

His hand is pleasantly warm. It reminds you of the most delightful things – early summer mornings, apple pie with ice cream and bear hugs.

And how could you not be nervous? Kuroo Tetsuro - the guy you had this dumb crush on for literal months - all 6’4 of his is sitting next to you, with that charming smile on his handsome face, navigating through the streets of busy, light-polluted Tokyo as if it’s as easy as breathing.

"I’m sitting in a car with a guy who’s basically a stranger and is refusing to tell me where we’re going. But yes, your handsome face is the problem."

The salon of his expensive car is filled with tension and the scent of sandalwood.

Kuroo lets out a laugh, "You’re trying to be snarky and shit but you still called me handsome, so thank you."

Your face burns as you scramble to make a witty come-back. Kuroo makes you way more nervous than you would like to be. It’s as if every time you see him your mind goes blurry.

"Well, you are," you finally settle on a response, "But aren’t there enough girls who tell you that?"

Kuroo gives you a look, turning back to the busy road to drive around slower drivers.

"Is that your way of asking me about girls?"

Your eyes fall to your shoes, as if they’re the most engrossing thing ever and your hands begin to mindlessly toy with your skirt.

"You sure you didn’t wanna study psychology or something?" you groan, still feeling a bit embarrassed that your intentions, expressed in a form of what you thought was the most flawless way of acquiring the answers you needed, being uncovered that easy.

He reminds you of a certain charming brunette from your past - the reason for most of your happy memories. They’re both too good at reading people.

Kuroo’s laughter is surprisingly higher in pitch than his voice, but it’s not unpleasant to listen to. You might even call it cute in a way.

"Babe, you’re just too easy to read, no need for me to study psychology," he finally says, slipping in the nickname without any further thought, a sly smirk playing at his lips when he notices the way you react to his words. His hand is still resting on your knee and he playfully squeezes it, making you almost jump up in your seat.

"You do know that I want to be here as much as you do, right? It’s not like you’re the only one nervous."

The sincerity of his words is hidden by a wide smile, but it’s reassuring. It’s hard to believe that a guy like Kuroo would go out with you and for you to refuse the urge to pinch your arm for the n-th time tonight.

"I know that, but somehow my brain," you wildly gesture to your head, raising your eyebrows, "Doesn’t connect the… dots, right?"

"What dots?" he swiftly turns into an intersection and turns right, slightly speeding up when the green light begins to blink.

"You wanting to go out with me..." you mutter, slightly awkwardly. For some reason, when you’re talking to him you’re like an open book. He has this aura around him that just makes you want to look into his golden-brown eyes and trust him.

Kuroo frowns, the corners of his lips going slightly downwards, "Why would you even say that? Who wouldn’t want to go out with you?"

Your thoughts are filled to capacity with Issei Matsukawa. That’s who wouldn’t want to go out with you. He’s like your own personal moon – only showing up when you need him the most, fucking you until you forget everything, but never letting anyone know who you two are; only a slight smirk when his friends ask if you two had fucked and a casual nod when they ask if you’re good in bed. That’s what you’ve been reduced to.

"Hey, doll, I think you’re dozing off on me, hm?"

You come back to reality; to the city lights that are now few and far in between, to how Kuroo’s hand spreads warmth through your body and to the smell of sandalwood.

"Yeah, just got lost in thought, sorry,"

"No worries," he nods, expression radiating relief and the usual self-assured smirk returning once again coming back to the black-haired man’s face, "Y/N, do you want to play 10 questions?"

You’re watching the lights of the bustling city fade away, melting away your tension. You feel safe with Kuroo, however dumb and naive it may sound. The fact that he didn’t push you to answer his question just a moment before only proves you right.

"Isn’t that for teenagers?" you lift up your eyes, finding Kuroo already looking at you and instantly ending the eye-contact, suddenly finding your shoes outstandingly interesting.

"It is… But I need an excuse to ask all the questions I want without seeming intrusive," 

"Okay, Mr. Thoughtful, ask away then," Kuroo chuckles at your attempts to tease him, but he knows. He knows that he’s got you wrapped around his finger. Not like he’s gonna use that. Not for now, at least.

"Okay. How many boyfriends have you had?" It seems like he had the question ready a while ago and you’re puzzled. He says most things so casually that you can only be envious of his confidence.

You’re lost in thought for a while. Well, Issei checked all the boxes a boyfriend should’ve; yet he didn’t want to be anything more, so that left you with-

"Just one, back in high school."

"What high school did you go to?" Kuroo shoots the question instantly, one finger bouncing up and down alongside the radio music, sending tingles through your body.

"Isn’t it my turn to ask?"

"Ah. Yes, I suppose." He gives you a half-assed apologetic smirk and suddenly turns right, his car tires squeaking in protest.

"How many girlfriends have you had?" you ask the same question, just reversed, but Kuroo doesn’t question it. He doesn’t even have to think before answering.

"Not gonna ask how many boyfriends I’ve had? Okay, ah, about five girlfriends."

"About-" you’re ready to find out more, curiosity getting the best of you but Kuroo squeezes your knee, like a subtle warning.

"Ah ah, my turn."

"What high school did you go to?" he asks, once again surprising you in how quick he is at making them.

"Aoba Johsai."

"Was this boy Iwaizumi Hajime?" he raises an eyebrow and seems quite satisfied with himself – like he’s got it all figured out.

"What? No! And it’s not even your turn to ask!" you couldn’t ever imagine yourself with Iwa. He was a good friend and a very handsome man, but way too serious for your taste.

"This game is stupid," Kuroo pauses for a moment. You know he’s got his next question already figured out, but he doesn’t ask straight away, "why not Iwaizumi?"

"Not my type, per say."

"Seems like your type. We have a similar face, no?"

You think for a moment. Not even a bit. Iwa’s eyes were slanted whereas Kuroo’s were lazily hooded, Iwa always carried a scowl on his face, while the man sitting beside you, favoured a confident smirk. The only similar thing about them was their height, and even then – Kuroo was more lean and with a straighter posture, "You do not," you finally come to the conclusion and Kuroo’s smiling. God, how he loves watching the wheels in your head turn, thoughts spinning and mouth opening and closing as you’re unable to make a believable argument.

"Strong eyebrows and jawline, a scowl. Don’t wanna rethink your answer?" Once again, he’s fast, pointing at his features with slender fingers, instead of looking at the empty road.

The scenery has changed and now you’re driving through empty fields, huge houses with giant fences popping up here and there.

"No, Iwa looks just like Mattsun but in italics," Kuroo searches his mind till he finds the face of Matsukawa Issei, who you so sweetly called "Mattsun" and then laughs. Holy shit, you’re right. Although, that’s got him thinking more. You two must be pretty close, if you’re calling the man by a nickname. Perhaps a former classmate? He was gonna have to look into it more, but for now, he’s got more important answers to provoke out of you, "Ok, right. Right. But who was it then?"

"Tooru."

"Oikawa Tooru?!" Kuroo almost slams on the brakes, shock apparent on his face. The resident pretty boy captain is a well-known person to him – always a beautiful fangirl hanging off his arm and a saccharine smile adorning his lips. He doesn’t seem like your type at all. Too sophisticated and fake. 

"You seem surprised."

“I am.” Kuroo nods, collecting his composure, putting his usual smirk back on, “Are pretty boys your type?”

“Didn’t you tell me my type was Iwaizumi and you, a moment ago?”

“Yeah,” Kuroo hums, nonchalantly, “That was before I knew Oikawa fucking Tooru was your ex,” he shakes his head, as if it’s hard to connect dots in his head, “Was he good in bed?”

You almost choke on your saliva and his hand pats your knee calmly. Oh, how he enjoys making you embarrassed.

“Interested in sleeping with Tooru?” you retort, but it’s way too late to have any real bite. 

Kuroo doesn’t acknowledge it, only noting that you still call Oikawa by his first name.

“Nah… Nah, just wanna know what I’m competing with.” 

Your head spins from the idea of what he’s implying, mind travelling to what his touches and kisses would feel like on your heated skin. 

But before you spiral out, Kuroo moves his hand from your knee and does a sharp turn, suddenly stopping and turning off the car, stretching in his car seat. You instantly miss the comforting warmth of his hand.

“We’re here.” 

Your eyes widen, trying to get used to the dark. Little by little, details come into your vision – you’re parked near a huge field of lavenders, surrounded by giant oak trees. It looks like a scene straight from a Studio Ghibli movie. 

“Are you going to murder me and hide my body in a lavender field?” 

Kuroo steps out of his car, instantly coming to open yours, it’s like an instinct for him, “Yeah. Gonna give you to a cult. ‘Children of the Corn’ and shit.” 

You chuckle as you step out of the car, following him without any question. Kuroo feels safe – like getting to sleep in your bed after a party, a ring that fits perfectly around your finger and holding hands when it’s cold. 

He leads you through a path in the field, the smell of lavender filling your senses. Kuroo reaches out for you and you grab his hand without thinking, which brings a smile to his face.

“When I was younger, uh, in my first year of high school, my dad died and it was just me and my grandparents left. They couldn’t afford a house in the city, dad left a lot of debt, so we moved away to the outskirts of Tokyo. When I felt like it was just me against the world… I used to come here.” 

The story Kuroo tells flows freely into the night air as he leads you through the small paths, to the biggest oak tree in the field. You don’t say you’re sorry for his loss. Traumas like that never heal and adding a band-aid to a gaping wound only adds insult to the injury. 

“So this is your safe place. I get it.” you give his hand a gentle squeeze and look up at him. The confident smirk is exchanged for a more gentler, genuine one, “I appreciate you taking me here.” 

Kuroo stops, if only for a moment, gazing down at you, “I know it’s corny and shit, since it’s our first date, but ah, I’ve treated girls shitty in the past. Don’t want to treat you like that, I want this to work. Even if it’s only a few dates.” 

“O-oh.” 

Kuroo laughs and spins you by your shoulders. You’re staring at a wooden ladder, attached to a blue treehouse. The paint is chipping away.

“I love the fact that I make you so nervous,” the words are spoken right into your ear, as he gives it a little peck and then gently pushes you towards the ladder.

“Are you letting me go first cause you want to stare at my butt?” you turn to him with judgemental eyes before you take the first step. 

“That, and the serial killers up there. Wouldn’t want them to kill me first!” 

You roll your eyes as you start climbing up and up, until you reach the opening to the treehouse, crawling in. 

It’s not like you imagined at all – the walls are painted, there’s a rug and a big mattress with pillows and thick blankets,

“Don’t tell me you used to sleep here, too.” 

“No, it was an old mattress my grandparents wanted to throw out. Figured it would make the place more cozy,” Kuroo pauses for a second and then sits down, encouraging you to do so too. He instantly pulls you close, “Easier than having to wait until my grandparents went somewhere, too.” 

You stare up at Kuroo, shaking your head, “You said you didn’t sleep here!” Kuroo chuckles and kisses your forehead, sending warmth all over your body. 

“Yeah, that’s right. I never slept here, just used to fuck girls here.” 

He’s so crude and straight-forward, but you can’t help but laugh.

“So we’re probably sitting on old cum stains?”

“Nah, probably not,” Kuroo grabs your waist and lays you down. He’s on top now and you turn your head to the side. 

“Look at me, y/n,” Kuroo gently grabs your chin and turns your face to look at him, you could explore his amber eyes for hours upon hours, trying to find out all the secrets within, “Can I kiss you?” 

You nod, giving him the permission, which he immediately uses. His lips are surprisingly soft against yours and his kiss bleeds desperation. One of his hands is still on your face, while the other finds its place in your hair. 

You try to lift yourself up, to get even closer to him, but he pushes you down by your hip, forbidding you from doing so. 

“Don’t move, baby,” he stops you with another kiss, this time biting your upper lip and dragging until it snaps back. He laughs and then kisses you again, “You’re so fucking beautiful.” 

You pull back and kiss him all over the face – he has little tiny freckles all over his nose. It has the most adorable little bump, encouraging you to kiss his nose once more. 

“You just gonna kiss me all over my face?” Kuroo raises one of his eyebrows and you reward him with another one. Then you reach for his jawline, then neck, making his breath hitch. 

“I want to undress you,” Kuroo says and you nip at his neck, giggling. 

“Then do so, don’t fucking ask me for permission,” you mumble into his skin and inhale more of the enticing sandalwood scent. Your mind is spinning. You’re about to fuck a man you’ve crushed on for months. Will it be different from having sex with Issei and all those random hookups? Is it too soon? Will you seem too easy?-

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Kuroo chuckles and then he’s undressing you – your skirt and shirt are flying off, shoes too and you’re left before him only in your bra in your panties, “Aw, you put on a matching set for me. How sweet of you. You’re so sweet… I almost feel bad for what I’m going to do with you.” 

Your breath hitches. Issei was never gentle, he took and took and took. You had a feeling Kuroo would be different. He admires the set for a short moment, before tearing it off. You yelp, but Kuroo instantly silences it with a hungry kiss. He takes but it’s so different. 

“You’ve got nice tits,” he smiles and then he’s kissing all over them, making your words stuck in your throat when he bites. Hard, “Am I being a red flag if I want to give you hickeys and bite marks,” he kisses lower and lower, “all over your body?” 

“Might-“ your voice gets a pitch higher when Kuroo finally reaches your pussy, giving it a gentle kiss and separating the folds. There’s an unreadable emotion swimming in his eyes, “Might not have enough turtlenecks to hide them all.” 

“Oh, baby,” Kuroo laughs and gives an experimental lick to your clit, making your back arch, “I plan on letting everyone see.” 

And then he’s eating you out like it’s his last meal. One of his hands finds your hip again, squeezing hard and preventing you from lifting yourself up, “You just can’t stay still, yeah?” His words cause vibrations, making you let out a loud whine. 

“You sound pretty. Real pretty,” with that, you finally let out a loud, angelic moan. And that’s enough to get Kuroo going. Oh, how he craves to hear more and more and more.

Two of his slender fingers slide inside you and you keen at the stretch. It’s been a while since you’ve last had sex so every calculated touch of nimble fingers feels euphoric against your skin, pleasure coursing through the slight pain. 

“More,” you ask. No, you beg. You look at Kuroo like he’s your god, ever so loving and forgiving to grant you one wish. One wish for not being sinful. One wish because he gets to be the one to make you sin. 

“You don’t know what you’re asking for, baby,” Kuroo grunts and then, suddenly, adds another finger. You yelp, trying to grab at his wrist, but his hand stops yours, “Be a good girl. Don’tcha wanna be a good girl for me, mm?” 

“Want to! Wanna be a good girl for you, daddy!” 

Kuroo tilts his head back, groaning, “You don’t know what you’re starting, fuck-. You just squeezed my fingers so fucking hard,” a smirk plays on his stupidly handsome face, “Want me to get rough? Baby wants me to get rough with her soft, perfect body?” 

You nod, and with that, Kuroo gets all the confirmation he’s ever needed from you. His fingers find the spot inside you, the one many guys would’ve struggled to find and with a few curls of his long fingers, you’re coming undone, juices spreading all over Kuroo’s fingers. 

He’s smiling in blissful delight, sticking the fingers into your mouth as you eagerly lick them clean, tasting yourself. Kuroo pats your heated cheek in approval and then quickly removes his sweater and shirt, revealing a silver chain that has a small black cat charm hanging on it. You chuckle and Kuroo tilts his head, until he catches where your stare landed. 

“Don’t make fun of me, princess, yeah? You’re about to learn what happens to good, perfect girls like you,” he smiles and it makes you burn. You want him to touch you, kiss you, ruin you until the only things you remember in this world are his name and face. 

However, as soon as his soft, warm lips land on your neck, there’s a noise outside. A car engine coming closer and closer with each passing moment. 

Kuroo stands up instantly, pulling you up as you stumble to get onto your unsteady feet. The floor of the treehouse is cold, and so are you. 

“Get your shoes on, quickly”, his voice is laced with concern and hints of confusion so you don’t hesitate - doing as you’re told as quickly as possible. He dresses you in his sweater - the material soft and comfortable against your skin, pulls his own shirt on and gathers other clothing left. You see it in his eyes - no time to put on your clothes, you have to go.

He climbs off the ladder and almost pulls you off of it, when he deems your speed unsatisfying. 

“No one is supposed to know this place, except a few people, fuck!” Kuroo pulls you with him and you only ease his worries by not stumbling, which requires huge effort, actually, “I am almost sure of who that is though, what bad timing… Fuck, I really just wanted to take you on a date where no one could find us,” he’s seething, grabbing your hand in a grip that tightens with each passing moment. 

You don’t dare question Kuroo. Everything - from his words to his seething need to get you somewhere safe - screams danger. 

When you’re about a few meters from his car, Kuroo pulls you closer and takes a long inhale.

“Please, sit in the car, don’t make a noise and don’t open the door for anyone besides me,” the words take a few short moments to register in your scared mind, which makes Kuroo grab you tighter, “Say you understand, y/n.” 

“I-I understand,” the words leave your mouth as another car pulls into the side of the beautiful fields, that gave you such calmness and serenity just a while ago. No more of that today. The calmness and coldness of Kuroo’s voice make shivers run down your spine. 

There’s a flash of recognition in Kuroo’s eyes as he observes the car that’s pulled over. His brows furrow and he ushers you quickly towards his own car, hand tightly wrapped around yours. 

“I’ll be back as quickly as possible, okay?” with that, you’re sitting in the passenger seat, your knees pulled to your chest, mind spinning. You watch his tall silhouette disappear into the darkness and then close your eyes. You would appreciate some pain medicine right now. If only you had some on you. Hopefully, Kuroo is back soon and you’ll get away with an excuse of a headache. 

You’re still only in your shoes and Kuroo’s sweater when someone taps on the car window. Your skin raises in goosebumps, heart about to jump out of your chest. Slowly, you look up and are met with a barrel of a gun and an icy stare looking straight into your soul. Only one thought runs through your head – Kuroo hasn’t locked his car.

Sorry for the long wait, been super busy!

Taglist: @heizenka​ @icelyn20​ @strawbberyys @creepykawass​

I’m writing a Shinsou x reader fics based on “I bet in losing dogs” by Mitski. Holy shit, we’re really in it now.

bokuto is the type to ask u how much you weigh only because he wants to put that weight onto a barbell and send u a video of him hip thrusting it at the gym

dear god if this is not the best seijoh 4 smut i have ever read 😩

4play Matsukawa Issei, Hanamaki Takahiro, Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime/reader (haikyuu!!) word count: 8.2k rating: E (18+, minors DNI) tags: gangbang, dry humping, oral f!receiving, edging, unsafe sex, creampie, mentions of alcohol, consensual sex while mildly under the influence, voyeurism kinda?, makki and mattsun are bad roommates a/n: this is the filthiest thing i've ever written! sorry!

CROSSPOSTED TO AO3

Through the trials and tribulations of first-hand experience, you’ve come to the conclusion that there is no such thing as a good roommate or a bad roommate — instead of a binary, it’s more like an ever-fluctuating spectrum that exists between the two.

Some roommates are tidy but loud; others are messy, but beyond the disaster they leave in the kitchen after every meal they cook you hardly notice they’re there; some roommates respect your privacy and belongings, but insist on keeping their lube in the fridge next to your orange juice.

In short: it’s never black and white.

Ultimately, living with roommates is just an unfortunate inevitability — though if you could afford to live alone as a broke university student, you would — and you have to learn to adjust your lifestyle to cope with it.

Living with strangers is a bit weird, like your first roommate freshman year: a tiny girl who was perfectly pleasant to cohabitate with, and said almost nothing beyond the absolute nightmare fuel she used to mutter in her sleep on the other side of your shared shoe-box of a dorm room. You, decidedly, preferred living with friends whom you knew and trusted not to tell you they were going to kill you in their sleep.

Which is precisely how, after moving out of your dorm first year after realizing residence just wasn’t for you, you ended up moving in with two of your best friends from high school: Hanamaki Takahiro and Matsukawa Issei.

Living with members of the opposite sex presented an entirely new spectrum of difficulty, to be sure. But you knew Makki and Mattsun, you’d been friends since you were 15, and you’d long grown used to their antics and eccentricities. So all in all, the three of you made a pretty solid trio of housemates — so solid in fact that your cohabitation somehow managed to endure all the way through to your senior year.

Which is how you find yourself on the phone with a friend in the kitchen of your three-bedroom apartment just off campus in the early afternoon, AirPods in, tidying up some dishes that someone (probably Makki) left out that morning before heading to class. Your lab that morning was cancelled, and rather than make your way to campus for the one other class you had scheduled that day, you decided to treat yourself and play hooky for once.

“His name was soooo long, too,” your friend’s plaintive voice sighs from the other end of the call, in the process of regaling you with the story of a dating app hookup gone wrong the evening prior. “And I only called him ‘daddy’ because I didn’t know if we were close enough to nickname him, and somehow that felt less personal!”

You huff out a little breath of air, halfway to a chuckle, twirling the slightly damp towel that you’d just finished drying the dishes with between your hands. “What’s the point of a boy even having a name if it isn’t moanable?”

Your friend’s tittering laugh resounds through your headphones and you giggle along with her, a sly smile pinching at your cheeks at your own joke.

Movement in the corner of your eye startles you, and you whip around suddenly to see Hiro (aforementioned dish-leaver and everyday bane of your existence) leaning in the doorway as though waiting for you to notice him, both hands tucked down the front of his grey sweatpants. He looks at you with a single eyebrow drawn up.

“Jesus christ, make your presence known you creep — No, not you,” you assure your friend on the other line when she makes an indignant, confused noise. You roll your eyes after tossing a brief glare at the boy still standing in the doorway, looking as pleased as ever. “Makki was lurking behind me.”

You quickly end your call with your friend once you realize that your nosy roommate has no intention of going anywhere anytime soon, popping your headphones out from your ears and turning to look at him with an unimpressed scowl on your face.

The corner of his mouth quirks up, the exact opposite of your own.

“So, moanable names, huh?”

You huff, annoyed that not only was he eavesdropping but now he was trying to make some sort of group discussion of the indignity. “Fuck off.”

“No, no. Tell me more.” Makki slides a little further into the kitchen, grinning down at you. “Is my name moanable?”

“Makki, I swear to god,” you try to sound threatening but it just comes out exasperated. You’re used to his antics — you’ve been friends for long enough that you’ve simply become acclimatized to the garden-variety chaos he seems to exude at all times, but this conversation felt like it was toeing a lie that you didn’t want to cross.

“I didn’t even know this was something girls care about, so help me out here,” he said, cajoling you further. “Friend to friend, I gotta know. Tell me.”

“No.”

“No as in it’s not moanable? Or no as in you won’t tell me?” he pesters on, and you only get more flustered and annoyed as he bullies you a little further into the corner of the kitchen where the counter meets the stove in an L-shape.

“No as in there’s no way in hell I’m having this conversation with you.”

You hit him with the dish towel in your hands, though not hard enough to do any real damage, and he yelps but he’s still grinning all the while.

“Now what’s going on in here?” a deep voice full of mirth pries your attention away from the strawberry blonde crowding over you, and your gaze lands on your second roommate.

Mattsun is leaning against the doorframe in much the same way Makki had been only a moment prior, still wearing his jacket — he must have just gotten back from his morning class, though you hadn’t heard him come in.

If you’d been hoping for salvation in his sudden appearance, the smirk on Matsukawa’s face all but dashes that aspiration.

Once Makki gets him up to speed, he all too delightedly joins in.

“It’s really not that hard of a question,” Mattsun drawls, cocking his head to the side. He’s still on the opposite end of the room, a full six feet or more away from you, but his presence is just as stifling as if he was hovering over you like Makki presently found himself. “We’d tell you if you were the one asking, you know.”

Your lips part a little, and a terrible, treacherously inquisitive voice in the back of your mind tells you that you should ask — that you want to know if they think your name is moanable.

You bury the thought as quickly as it surfaces, choking it back with your indignation.

“Well I’m not asking, and I have no plans to — now or ever,” you shove a little against Makki’s chest to give yourself a bit more space. He hardly budges.

Why are your friends all so fucking tall?

“Well, it is.”

You blink, eyes flickering up towards Hiro who had said the words.

“Your name,” he explains, pressing the tip of his pointer finger to the furrow that had made itself known upon your brow, reading the signs of your confusion without you needing to openly express them. “Super moanable.”

“Agreed,” Mattsun pipes in unprompted from the doorway, and your eyes flicker over to see his smirk had given way to a full-on grin — wolfish though it may be.

You snap out of your stupor and smack Hiro’s hand away, throwing your dishtowel right in his face as you shoulder by him towards the door, glowering at Mattsun on your way past for good measure.

You storm off, footfalls heavy on the floor of the hallway as you go, and slam the door behind you once you make it into the sanctuary of your own bedroom.

You’re mad at both of them — borderline fuming as you throw yourself down atop your unmade bed.

Because it’s awkward.

And annoying.

And unnecessary.

They both have perfectly moanable names.

You know it.

They know it.

Hell, you hear their hookups do it often enough through the paper-thin walls of your three-bedroom to say it with an almost unfair degree of certainty. Walls so thin it’s like you can see through them — can see all the ways the two boys you’ve known for years are making those girls you’ll never actually get the opportunity to properly meet scream.

Admittedly, you hear cries of Issei more often than Hiro, but the latter is always more ragged, more desperately obscene than the former. The sounds echo through the apartment so clearly that not even your noise cancelling headphones are enough to drown them out some nights, and you find yourself falling asleep to the mortifying thought of what it might be like to be the one who was screaming their names.

You bury your burning face in your pillow at the thought and resist the urge to shriek.

The rest of your day is spent hiding in your room; watching Netflix on your laptop, taking sporadic naps, and rationing the water in the bottle you kept on your bedside table to stave off the need to leave your bed for as long as humanly possible.

There’s a bit of noise that drifts into your room throughout the afternoon, specifically in the evening as two familiar voices join the other two that had been in the apartment for most of the day. Oikawa and Iwaizumi were supposed to come over to drink and play video games that night, and their arrival had crept up on you faster than anticipated.

About half an hour after they land, you get a text from Iwa asking if you’re gonna come out and join them, but you ignore it and pretend to be asleep.

Eventually the water bottle goes dry, and you can’t ignore the grumbling of your stomach any longer, and when you think the coast is clear — shouts in the living room telling you that the boys are likely distracted by whatever game they were playing —you slink out of your room to grab a snack from the kitchen.

You’re quiet as you pry open your bedroom door, careful to avoid the parts of the floor along the way which you know are a little creaky and might give you away. You’re so focused on where you’re stepping that you don’t notice a figure stepping out from the bathroom until you’re colliding with a broad, muscular chest that smells like expensive cologne and fabric softener. You squeak in surprise, looking up to see Oikawa grinning down at you.

“Going somewhere, sleeping beauty?” he teases you, and you stumble back from him.

“I was just, uh, I just wanted to get something to eat,” you say quietly, nodding towards the doorway to the kitchen at the other end of the hall.

Oikawa takes a step forward, bullying you with his much larger frame back towards the living room.

“We’ve got plenty of snacks to share,” he says with a knowing smirk that makes your skin prickle, and you wonder just how much of your altercation earlier in the afternoon Mattsun and Makki had already shared with him. “And now that you’re awake you can join us!”

You sigh in defeat, following along behind him to where the other three boys are waiting in the living room.

The coffee table is already covered in empty beer cans and bowls of half-eaten snacks, and your eyes immediately hone in on a bowl of the pretzel sticks you’d been hoping to snag from the kitchen on your pilgrimage that had been unceremoniously derailed.

“Look who finally decided to join us,” Oikawa chirps as he flops himself back onto the couch next to Issei, whose attention remains focused on the screen in front of him as he and Hiro (who was seated in the chair beside the sofa) went 1v1 on some combat game you never really got into.

Iwaizumi looks up from his place on the floor, spotting you hovering in the doorway and shooting you a little smile. He pats the open space on the floor beside him and you resignedly shuffle over to join him.

“Did you have a good nap?” he asks with a laugh as you sit crosslegged to his left.

You nod curtly. “Can you pass me the pretzels?”

You settle in with the bowl in your lap once he hands it to you, popping a salty snack into your mouth and risking a glance at your two roommates on the other side of the room. Neither of them appear bothered or otherwise moved by your sudden appearance, and they seem to have let your earlier conversation go. Mattsun even brings you back a beer after his next trip into the kitchen, which you accept — cracking the can open and carefully sipping the carbonation that fizzles up over the rim.

Your empty stomach from barricading yourself in your room all afternoon means that the beer hits you faster than the pretzel sticks you and Iwa were sharing, and before you know it all the tension you’d been feeling in your shoulders has fizzled away like the bubbles in the beer you’re all drinking.

You really should have seen it coming.

“So,” Oikawa drawls, draping himself over the arm of the sofa overhead, leaning towards you. “Do I have a moanable name?”

And you’re mortified.

Makki does nothing to conceal his laughter at your horrified expression. Mattsun’s smirk is thinly veiled at best. Iwa (the only one you’re leaving in your will, decidedly) tells them to fuck off and drop it, his voice gruff and firm.

“I think as a friend we have a right to know these things, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa counters his friend’s command, holding a hand to his chest. “Don’t you want to know?

“I don’t care,” Iwa bites back, but there’s the slightest waver in it, the furtive way that he steals a glance at you that betrays the comment’s sincerity.

Oh.

“God, fine!” you huff out, exasperated and embarrassed and ready to just put this entire conversation to rest once and for all. “I’m sure you all have moanable names — happy now?”

The boys take pause at that.

“But which one of us has the most moanable name?” Makki asks with a smirk, leaning forward in his seat to leer at you. The look in his eyes is predatory, and makes something in you rise like panic, but without the actual fear of any danger.

Anticipation, you realize. That’s what you’re feeling.

Their video game has been abandoned now, one controller dangling loosely from Makki’s hand while Issei’s has been discarded on the coffee table.

Their eyes are all on you.

“I- I don’t know that, you perv!” you squeak out, heat climbing so quickly in your cheeks it’s making you dizzy, and you’re uncertain if it’s the beer or the blood rush that’s to blame. Maybe both. “Who am I to judge that?”

“Could you?”

Your eyes flicker to Mattsun.

“Judge it, I mean,” he adds when he sees the blank look on your face.

“Wh- how?” you squeak out, your heart thumping wildly in your chest. The atmosphere in the room has changed, become charged, in the few moments since the subject had come up.

“Moan for us,” Oikawa says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

You blink, absolutely bewildered by the request.

“Moan for us, please?” Oikawa stretches forward, his hand cupping your cheek. He looks so sweet and beseeching as his thumb presses down into your bottom lip.

“Why me?” you manage to ask through the pulse pounding in your throat.

“You’re the only girl, so you’re the only one who can do it, y’know, authentically,” Makki says from his seat. Your eyes flicker over to him, Oikawa’s thumb still prodding against your mouth. “Plus you’re hot.”

You roll your eyes, but you undeniably feel a shiver run through you when none of the other men in the room make any efforts to dispute his claim.

“So?” Mattsun asks, and the single word is so loaded that you feel like it sucks all the air from the room.

Oikawa finally pulls away from you, and the five of you sit quietly for a moment.

“Okay.”

You have no idea what makes you say it. Maybe it’s the alcohol in your bloodstream, maybe it’s something more depraved that was already inside of you long before you brought the can of beer to your lips that evening, the same thing that occasionally had your fingers creeping into your panties on the nights that your headphones aren’t enough to hide the sounds coming from your roommates’ bedrooms.

Something shifts in the room the minute you agree, like a spark catching on a pool of gasoline.

Oikawa laughs, the sound absolutely delighted and conniving, from his seat on the sofa.

“How far are we taking this?” Iwa asks gruffly, your eyes flickering over to him as he sits beside you. He looks reluctant.

“That’s up to her,” Makki says, nodding in your direction.

“Whaddya say?” Mattsun asks, eyes trailing all the way up your body before landing on your face. A little twitch at the corner of his already smirking mouth, ticking upward to make the curl of his lip a little more feral. “It’s your call: how far will you let us go, sweetheart?”

Your mouth feels too dry to form a response.

“First base?” Oikawa asks sweetly, leaning over the edge of the sofa once more as his fingers skirt up your arm. His touch ghosts over the swell of your breasts, right where the neckline of your tank top dips down, but only grazes you lightly enough to leave you squirming and unsatisfied.

Your breath hitches as you feel the warmth of his lips on your neck, your head lolling to the side instinctively — but the touch is so brief that you’d almost consider it chaste if not for the way his hand had slithered down to cup your pussy through the material of your leggings, brazen and self-assured.

“Second?” he poses a another question, murmuring the words directly into your skin, even though you’d never responded to the first.

He pulls away when you say nothing, your thighs clenching unconsciously to trap the pressure of his hand where it rests between your legs. His eyes are alight with something entirely too devious to look so tender as he locks gazes with you.

“Oh, you’re letting us go all the way,” he breathes the knowing words out like a prayer, honeyed and exalted.

“Don’t assume things, pervykawa,” Iwa snaps, but his voice is tighter than it had been a moment prior.

“Go on then,” Oikawa urges you, nosing at the edge of your jaw before pressing another featherlight kiss to your throat. “Tell us.”

You let a little noise out at way he presses his hand down a little firmer between your legs, your hips rolling against the pressure instinctively. Your eyes flutter closed, and when they open again, you’re acutely aware of the four men whose attentions are intently focused on you.

You swallow hard, fixing your eyes on the floor to avoid their esurient gazes.

“You can do whatever you want.”

They draw pretzels to decide the order. Four broken sticks held tight in Iwaizumi’s curled fist for them to pick from. Longest stick goes last, and the shortest first. You feel the blood drain from your face when you see who’s holding up the fated stub to start the endeavour off.

Matsukawa seems far less hesitant than you as he beckons you over into his lap. You shakily crawl a bit closer to him across the floor and then pause.

You’ve made out with Mattsun a few times over the years, mostly when you were high or a little tipsy — but it was always lazy and pointless and just for fun.

This was different.

There was a purpose to this — a goal that effectively erased all of the boundaries that normally existed between you and your friends.

“You, I-I… you can’t go first,” you say, your tone panicked as you slowly process the facts in front of you.

Mattsun smirks at you from his place on the couch, leaning down so his face is closer to yours.

“And why’s that?”

Your eyes widen, flickering to the other boys around the room who are watching you squirm with varying looks of interest - Oikawa’s smirk in particular is acutely sadistic from the other end of the sofa.

“You’re too big,” you say quietly, too much breath behind the words to make them anything more than a whisper.

You’ve heard the conversations they’ve had about the size of Mattsun’s cock over the years, and though you’ve never seen it in full view, you’ve caught him half-hard in his sweatpants first thing in the morning enough times to know they weren’t exaggerating when they called him massive.

“What was that?” Issei feigns ignorance, holding a hand up to his ear. “Repeat yourself, so we can all hear you a bit better.”

“You can’t go first,” you repeat yourself adamantly, but it’s not the part that Matsukawa wanted to hear you say, and he clicks his tongue admonishingly.

“Sure I can,” he drawls, holding up the piece of pretzel that he’d pulled, by far the shortest of the four that had been tucked into Iwaizumi’s curled palm, “it’s the luck of the draw.”

Issei extends his hand to you, and eventually you take it, allowing him to guide you up onto the sofa so you’re straddling his lap. His hands settle on your waist, thumbs dipping under the hem of your tank top to brush against the skin underneath.

“There you go,” he says, smiling up at you toothily as you brace yourself on his broad shoulders. “That wasn’t so hard was it?”

This is familiar enough. You’ve sat on his lap before, felt the way his palms flatten and slide down down down to palm your ass through the material of your leggings. He’s not smiling anymore as he peers up at you — no, that look has been replaced with something hungrier as his eyes flutter down to your lips.

You lean forward and kiss him.

Issei is a good kisser.

He has been since the first time the two of you made out in the backyard of a house party in high school when you were both drunk off of pitifully meagre amounts of liquor you’d convinced one the boys’ old volleyball senpai’s to buy for you. His lips are just as soft as they were back then, and he takes his time — focusing on your lips for what feels like an eternity before even thinking to swipe his tongue forward, pressing into your mouth gently in a gesture you’re all too happy to reciprocate.

Your lips start to burn from the way Issei nips and sucks at them, pulling away and watching with a heavy-lidded fascination as he lets your swollen bottom lip snap back into place as it slips from his teeth. You writhe in his lap.

You feel hot.

Too hot for someone who lives in a drafty apartment and isn’t wearing that many clothes to begin with.

You feel like you’re melting when Mattsun leans forward and presses a kiss to the hollow of your throat, his teeth biting down into the skin.

“Issei,” when his name finally slips out from your parted, stinging lips, it’s a whimper more than a moan. You head lolls back as your eyes flutter shut.

“Come on, that doesn’t count and you know it, sweetheart,” he says, the words smug and smothered by your skin between his teeth.

“He hasn’t even touched you yet and you’re this whiny,” Oikawa chuckles breathlessly from the other end of the sofa, and for the first time you remember that the two of you aren’t alone. Your eyes flash over to the young man only a few feet away from you, watching your face carefully.

“Hey,” a hand on your chin guides your face back towards the boy whose lap you’re perched on top of. Issei’s dark eyes bore into yours, his lips pink and swollen in a way that you’re sure yours also mirror. “Why are you looking at him when I’m right here? You distracted or something?”

Issei places the hand not holding your chin on the small of your back, pulling you forward at the same time that he ruts his own hips up. You gasp as you feel the pressure of his hard cock pressing against your clothed cunt. Even through the layers of clothing separating you, you can feel just how big he is.

“O-Oh my god, Issei, you’re…” you let out a strangled yelp, your train of thought lost as he repeats the same roll of his hips as before.

“Seems like I’ve got your full attention now,” Mattsun laughs, but his words are a little hoarser than they were before, a little more laboured. He grunts as you press your chest into his, wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss him again, your hips continuing the same steady pace that he’d set for you both.

You should be embarrassed how quickly the knot in your stomach builds up while you grind against Matsukawa’s lap, or at the very least embarrassed that you have an audience to the entire spectacle, but the heat thrumming through your veins makes you shameless and desperate. Mattsun moves with purpose and an almost inhuman precision, riling you up so fast that you find yourself on the brink of cumming and all of your clothes are still on.

His teeth bite down into the flesh of your shoulder at the exact moment the outline of the head of his cock ruts directly against your clit.

“Issei!” you throw your head back, gasping at the feeling.

“That was a moan!” Oikawa says with a sudden sharp clap of his hands, shattering the intimacy of the heated moment.

Before you know what’s happening you’re being pulled off Issei, who can only groan in response, his hands trying to cling to you as you’re pried from his lap.

“No, no, please I-“

“Don’t worry, I’ll make you feel good, too. Better even,” Oikawa smiles at you as he cuts off your desperate babbling, but it’s sharp and predatory as he lays you out on the sofa, flat on your back.

Your thighs are shaking, panties sticking between your legs as he crawls over you.

“Isn’t that right, Cherry-chan?”

You have half a mind to kick him off the couch just for the nickname, and call the whole thing off.

You dated Oikawa in high school, much to both of your dismay now that you’re older and wiser and not virgins. And he’d started calling you the pet name not long after you’d started seeing each other — citing the way your cheeks would always flush a telling, rosy hue at the slightest bit of provocation. You’d actually found it sort of sweet, until you learned (way later than you should have) that the nickname came from the fact he popped your cherry, not because you looked like one.

But you’re too worked up to do either of those things, and instead you fist the material of his t-shirt and pull him down towards you to crash his lips to yours.

Oikawa shows none of the patience that Mattsun showed in the preamble, immediately working the waistband of your pants down over your hips, underwear along with it. Before you know it, you’re naked from the waist down and Tooru is sinking to his knees on the floor between your parted thighs.

He wastes no time. Oikawa Tooru is a man who knows what he wants, and he has been for as long as you’ve known him.

Driven.

Unyielding in the pursuit of his goals.

And what he wants right now?

To break you apart.

Maybe it’s because of how worked up Mattsun had gotten you, maybe it’s the skillful way Oikawa uses this mouth, but in no time at all you find yourself on the edge.

“Oh my god, oh — haa — my god,” you’re babbling as the boy between your legs sucks your clit into his mouth. You’re trying your best to be quiet as you speak, all things considered; not quite moaning yet, though you’re uncertain as to whether or not it’s because you don’t want to give him the satisfaction, or that you know the moment you do you’ll be denied yours again.

“You taste so good.” Tooru licks a long stripe up your pussy with his unfairly talented tongue, flicking the tip against your sensitive clit as he reaches the top. “So sweet.”

You keen, back arching up off the sofa as he curls two long fingers inside of you without much warning beyond the brief glimpse of him wetting them with his mouth.

You’re going to cum.

You’re going to cum.

“Then do it,” Oikawa says, peering up at you lustfully from his place between your thighs, his tongue flicking out to lave against your clit again. You didn’t even realize you’d said it out loud.

Tooru spits into the hand that’s not currently three knuckles deep inside of you, and shifts slightly as he reaches down out of sight. The slick sound of him pumping his cock fills the room along with the obscene noises of him lapping at your cunt. The fact that he’s getting off on this as much as you are makes you feel even more unhinged.

When you finally cum, you feel like you’re going to die.

“Tooru!” you cry out, unable to hold the moan back any longer even in spite of your best efforts. Your thighs clamp around his head as your hips buck up against his face, back arching like a bow string drawn taught. Your hands tangle in his soft brown hair while you ride out the wave of heat that rips through your body.

You’re too far gone to worry that you’re going to be interrupted, but it doesn’t matter: the boys around the room are watching with such a fascinated intensity that none of them dare to interrupt.

“Look at that,” Makki breathes.

“Shit,” Mattsun grunts out an agreement as you struggle to catch your breath.

Oikawa’s hand has sped up it’s frantic passes along his cock, and when he shifts up to his knees on the floor below you, you catch sight of it for the first time since you were a teenager: still long and curved and nicely pink at the head, glossy with the precum oozing out of it.

“Like what you see?” he rasps out when he catches the way your eyes have travelled down to his dick, the muscles in his abdomen clenching to make them even more defined in a way that you’re uncertain is intentional or instinctive.

You nod weakly.

“Cum on me, Tooru.”

His muscles tense again.

“Where?” his pretence of nonchalance is fractured by the way his voice cracks, a pretty hand wrapped around the base of his equally pretty cock to keep himself from cumming before you tell him exactly where you want it.

“My tits,” you breathe, eyes flickering up to his feral gaze, “cum on my tits.”

One of his hands wraps around your knee, tugging you to the edge of the sofa where you’re still lying flat on your back. Your shirt rucks up slightly in the scramble, but his other hand tugs your tank top the rest of the way up over your chest, positioning himself over you between your spread legs as he pumps his hand hard and fast one, two, three times more before you feel the first spatter of cum hit your sweat-dampened skin.

You watch as he rests back on his haunches, reaching up to push his ruffled hair back from his face.

Tooru smirks, dragging a long finger through the mess he made on your chest — probably writing his name in it — as he speaks again.

“I don’t remember you being so lewd when we were in high school, Cherry-chan.”

“I don’t remember you being able to make me cum when we were in high school, either. Guess things change,” you say, and your words would have been more cutting if you were a little less breathless. Your hand reaches up and cards through Tooru’s impossibly soft hair, but what could have been a tender moment turns cutting when you curl your fingers in the tresses and tug hard — Oikawa looks like he’s holding back a moan. “And stop calling me that.”

“Here,” a voice says softly from beside you, pulling your attention away from the obnoxious boy who’d just made you cum. You let your head loll to the side to see Iwa handing you a bit of tissue. You have no idea when or where he got them from, but you thank him, watching the way his eyes follow your careful motions as you clean yourself up.

“You missed a spot,” Oikawa says, dipping down and dragging his tongue across your breast, maintaining eye contact with his best friend while he does it. You whimper a little at the way his teeth graze you when he suckles your nipple into his mouth — just for the hell of it.

“Alright, enough rekindling that old flame,” Makki says, eager for his own turn, before grabbing Oikawa by the collar of his shirt and dragging away from you. The brown-haired boy makes an indignant squawk as he’s so unceremoniously uprooted, but you have virtually no time to process it before Hiro is pulling you up to your feet and maneuvering you over to his seat, flopping down and pulling you into his lap along with him.

“Take this off,” he says, tugging at the shirt bunched up over your chest. He helps guide it up over your head properly and then he appraises you for a moment, moulding his hand to the shape of your breast.

He sighs, and it sounds soft and almost dreamy. You don’t trust it at all.

“Perfect.”

If Issei and Oikawa had been determined to unravel you as quickly as possible, Hiro is the opposite — he touches you like he wants to drive you to the brink, but never quite allow you to go over.

“‘Atta girl, just like that,” Hiro breathes as his thumb rubs infuriatingly slow circles into your clit, his other hand guiding the thick head of his cock through the slick of your slit. His shirt is long gone, but his sweatpants had only been tugged down around his knees — unsurprisingly he’d not been wearing underwear beneath them.

He’s been teasing you like this for what felt like an eternity, painstakingly circling your clit, rolling your nipples between his teeth, laving his tongue over the bite marks he’d littered across your collarbones to match the one’s Issei had made while you mewled. He appeased your needy whines with the occasional dip of his tip pressing into you, a little bit of a burn each time as you adjusted to the intrusion, you still feel too empty.

“H-hiro, please. I need it,” you’re almost sobbing as you plead to him. Hell, you are sobbing — the words mangled and watery as your fingers tangle their way into Makki’s perpetual bedhead.

“Nah, you don’t,” Makki says. “You can cum like this.”

“I don’t want to,” you warble, fingernails raking bluntly over his scalp. “Wanna cum on yo-on your cock.”

That makes him falter, slipping a little bit further inside you due to nothing but pure shock. You feel his cock twitch as you sink halfway down it.

“Oh I felt that,” you keen, tossing your head back and dropping your hips down onto him as much as his vice grip on your waist will allow — which isn’t much. “Please Hiro. I know you want to.”

“‘Course I want to,” he groans, thrusting shallowly into the tight heat between your legs. “But you’re so pretty like this, all wrecked and desperate. Who’re you begging for?”

“You,” you murmur, kissing up his throat to his jaw, sliding little pecks all the way across to his mouth. “It’s for you Hiro — so please just fuck me.”

“I don’t have a condom on,” Hiro hisses out through clenched teeth. “And I’m out.”

“I’ve got some,” Mattsun drawls from his spot on the couch and your half-lidded gaze lands on him. He licks his lips as you make eye contact, your walls clenching around the tip of Hiro’s cock that’s still half-inside you.

“Fuck you,” Makki spits, not to you, and you all know why. Mattsun is the only man in the room that would fit into the king size condoms tucked into his bedside drawer.

“I don’t care,” you keen, head lolling back.

He’s halfway in already, no condom in sight. Was it your finest hour? The most shining example of reason you’d ever set? No. But you were three quarters of the way through letting your four best friends have their way with you, so it’s fair to say that logic and reason were well beyond you by that point.

“Really?” Hiro’s voice is comically pitchy as he croaks the question out, desperate and hopeful.

“Just don’t cum inside me, ‘kay?” You nod, leaning forward and resting your forehead against his. He rolls his hips a little deeper than before, not all the way, but fuller than he’d been filling you up until that point.

“You got it, princess.”

Makki’s cock may not be the most impressive in the room, but god does he know how to use it. The first thrust to the hilt he makes has you crying out — a pitiful, broken sound that rips from somewhere deep in your chest.

“Fuck you’re so tight,” Hiro moans, pulling out just to repeat the same toe-curling accuracy he’d executed on the first thrust. Three more and you’re ready to snap, and the softest pressure of his thumb on your clit has your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“Hiro, H-Hiro, Hiro!” you moan his name as you come undone, nails digging into the soft flesh of his shoulders as you scrabble for purchase in the pale skin.

“Fuck, fuck,” Hiro chokes out, managing two more sloppy thrusts through your orgasm before he’s pulling out of you and cumming all over his own tightly-drawn abs.

You crumple forward, hands gripping the back of the chair as your sweat-slicked chest meets Makki’s. His hands immediately reaching around to stroke your back as the two of you struggle to catch your breaths.

It’s an unusually gentle gesture, and you find yourself melting into his touch — though careful not to get the cum splattered across his skin onto yours.

“Wow,” he says with a huff of a laugh, the warm breath fanning against your ear. “Your pussy’s unreal.”

You pull back, looking at him through narrowed eyes.

Way to ruin the moment.

You flick him on the forehead, right between his brows.

You stand up onto unsteady legs and almost immediately stumble, but a strong arm around your waist keeps you upright.

You turn in the aforementioned grip to see Iwa supporting you.

“Hi, Iwa,” you say softly, for lack of anything better to say, a delirious smile on your flushed face.

“Hi,” he repeats the greeting with a sweet chuckle. He says your name quietly, and you feel something stir in the pit of your stomach. “You good?”

“Mhm,” you hum, with a little nod, very aware of the way his stiff cock is pressing into your hip as he holds you.

You wait for a second before stretching up to press your lips to his.

He freezes momentarily — like even after everything he’d just witnessed he wasn’t quite expecting it — before responding in kind, kissing you deeply and holding you a little bit tighter.

You stay like that, making out in the middle of the living room, before Iwa sweeps you up into his arms. Your legs wrap around his waist as he holds you like it’s effortless and carefully he leans down, laying you out across the floor — hardly breaking the kiss all the while.

Iwa steals a pillow off the couch — you think it’s Oikawa who hands it to him but you can’t be sure — nestling it under your hips to angle them up and protect them from the hard floor underneath.

“Is this okay?” he asks, though he barely separates from your mouth to speak the words, so soft and quiet and close that it’s like you’re the only person in the world who’s meant to hear them.

You nod a little bit, your fingers tracing through his short hair while he’s hovering over you.

“We can stop here, you know,” he says, brushing his nose against yours. “You’ve done so much already.”

You panic a little, your grip on his hair tightening.

“No,” you say, voice pitching up in your fluster. “Please, Hajime. I want you to fuck me.”

Iwa swallows hard, leaning back on his knees as he tugs his sweatshirt up over his head.

You’re wet and more than ready for him when he finally presses in — but there’s still a delicious stretch as he carves his way inside of you that has you arching up underneath him, grabbing his corded shoulders to ground yourself.

“Oh,” Iwa gasps out as he feels the way you’re wrapped around him, sucking him in.

You whimper as he pulls back only slightly before rutting into you again, sending you sliding up on the carpet, the burn against your shoulder blades little more than a dull ache even if you know you’ll feel it acutely in the morning.

“More, Iwa,” you plead to him breathlessly. “I want you.”

“You’ve got me,” he replies hoarsely, but he still obliges your request readily, looping your knees over his forearms and bending you in half. The change forces a sound out of you that’s so carnal it even takes you by surprise.

He’s so deep at this angle, you swear you can feel the tip of his cock hitting your diaphragm — anatomical possibilities be damned. Your throat is tight, breath hitching with every slow, calculated thrust inside of you as he takes his time.

“Ha-“ your moan is cut off before you can say his name, his hand pressing against your swollen lips to trap the word behind them unspoken.

“Sorry, baby,” Iwa murmurs, eyes tracing over your wrecked face. “I just don’t want this to end too quick, okay?”

You can only nod underneath his palm as it covers your mouth, tears of exertion gathering along your lash line and dripping back towards your temple.

“Be good for me,” his words are strained, tendons in his neck flexing as he swallows hard and rolls his hips down into yours once more.

If any of the boys want to complain about how this is breaking some unspoken rule, they don’t. A silence so profound has settled over the room that you wonder if they’re even breathing.

Iwa fucks you languidly — tenderly. Like he’s savouring every slick slide into your cunt for all the moment is worth. He’s groaning openly, the sounds occasionally muffled by your skin as he presses hot open mouthed kisses to every inch of it he can reach - your mouth is still covered by his heavy hand, so he focuses his attention on your jaw, your throat, your tits.

He doesn’t care about the competition, the way he’s taking his time makes that clear, but when he finally removes his hand and you moan — properly moan — it’s a sound so high and sweet you can almost feel the shiver that runs down the length of his spine.

“Hajime.”

“Shit,” the grunted curse isn’t from Iwa, who is still rocking his hips into yours, but rather Makki — who had begun shamelessly jerking himself off again on the other side of the living room.

You cum for the third time that night, but it’s no less impressive than the first two. Your vision goes from black to white with how hard your eyes squeeze shut, and Iwa moans your name out when he feels the way you clench around his cock — so tight he can barely keep fucking you through it. Your legs wind themselves around his hips and keep him still as you writhe through your peak.

“‘M gonna cum,” he grunts out through clenched teeth, hands moving to try and pry your legs away, “baby, I’m gonna cum, you gotta-“

“Inside,” you keen, “cum inside me, Haji.”

With a defeated, wanton groan he nods, rolling against you again— it’s harder this time, more frantic.

“You sure?” he manages to bite the words out though it seems to take every last ounce of resolve he has, hands pressed into the carpet on either side of your head as he leans over you fucking you into the floor.

You nod frantically, tears still rolling down your cheeks. Your hands press weakly against the smooth planes of his chest as you feel the first pangs of overstimulation, your fingers scratching into the skin beneath them a little more on every thrust. You loosen the lock of your legs, allowing Iwaizumi a bit more leeway to fuck you harder, and after only a few more bruising thrusts you feel him cum, cock throbbing and filling you up so well that you feel on the verge of bursting.

Iwa collapses on top of you, his face tucked into the crook of your neck as his heavy weight bears down and crushes you into the floor — but you don’t quite mind it.

He gets his bearings soon enough, as though realizing for the first time he might be harming you, rolling onto his side.

His eyes are a little hazy as they rake over your features, a look of concern pinching his handsome face. You can tell without him saying it that he’s worried he went too far, so you reach up and cup his face in your palm with a weak but genuine smile.

You feel a pressure on your knee unexpectedly, gently nudging your legs apart. You look down to see Hiro’s foot coaxing your thighs open, eyes fixed to where Hajime’s cum is dripping out of you. He’s tucked his cock away and pulled his sweatpants up again, meaning he must have finished again at some point, but his lip is stuck out in an obnoxious pout as he looks at you.

“How come he got to nut inside you but I didn’t?” Makki whines, and Oikawa reaches out and smacks the back of his head lightly — shooting him a look that you don’t quite understand.

“I’ll go get a warm cloth to clean you up,” Iwa says to you, pulling your attention back to him as he pushes himself up into a sitting position. He clears his throat a little. “Okay?”

You nod weakly, your exhaustion having finally crept up on you.

“Iwa-chan, get one for me too! My face is still all sticky!” Oikawa calls after Iwa’s retreating form.

“Get it yourself!”

“But Iwa!” Oikawa complains, standing and shuffling after his friend, grumbling about the injustice all the while.

“You need some water?” Makki asks, standing from his seat and peering down at where you’re still laying flat on the floor of your living room. He stretches his arms up over his head, the muscles of his upper body flexing under his skin as he does so. You nod, hissing a little as you pull yourself upright.

“Yes, please,” your throat is hoarse so you say the words a little weakly, and you wince as you feel more cum seep out of you and smear along the tops of your thighs. Makki nods and saunters off towards the kitchen, but you could have sworn you spotted a little blush along the tops of his cheeks before he left.

You sigh a little bit, blinking away some of the residual wetness in your eyes.

A figure appears in the periphery of your blurry vision, and you turn, peering upwards.

Mattsun grins down at you, his towering height only amplified by your position on the floor. He tilts his head to the side.

“Kinda unfair that I’m the only one who didn’t get to cum, you know.”

He crouches down beside you, his eyes trailing all the way up your body until he reaches your flushed, tearstained face. He cups your cheek in his hand, the pad of his thumb swiping away a lone tear still clinging to your skin. He brings the thumb up to his lips, and you watch raptly as his tongue sweeps out to taste the brine from his fingertip.

Your stomach clenches.

“Think you’re ready for me now, sweetheart?”

None of you even seem to notice that the competition had been all but forgotten.

watching nana gave me major depression and an obsession with vivienne westwood.

Chapter two: The soul in my heart's proof of life

Word count: 2.8k

Category: hard angst, smut

Chapter warnings: drugs, mentions of medicine and hospitals, descriptions of drugs

Summary: There are three hot guys who want to be with you, however, there are a few problems along the way. One of them is a plug, another one wants to keep you all to himself and the third one - a med student who deals drugs on the side. Your main problem, though? You have a terminal illness that has a very low life expectancy. Spiraling down a dangerous path seems like a fun way to spend your last years.

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Series masterlist

"Right on time," Suna drawls as he smiles down at you.

The police officer gets closer with each passing breath. You’re screwed.

Or maybe not yet. The police officer is an older man – that much you can tell from the way his dark hair is peppered with gray streaks and the small wrinkles under his dark eyes. He’s smiling as he looks you up and down, making you feel plain dirty. You hated older men in power; gave them too much of an ego boost. Yet, you didn’t want to go down for drug charges so you batted your lashes and mustered your sweetest smile, while cursing yourself out in your mind.

"Hello there," he nods at you three, but his beady eyes are staring only at you.

"Hello officer," greets Suna, the blunt hanging from his lips long gone and forgotten, "What brings you here today?"

The man chuckles. They’re familiar with each other. It’s the same man that caught Suna with drugs the first two times.

"You know the drill. Stand straight and spread your arms." Suna obeys and stands in the position the officer has requested. He’s calm. Of course he is - his drugs are in your coat pocket. The officer keeps shooting you glares and Lev wraps his long arm around your waist, pulling you into him. You let out a tiny sigh of relief. Lev won’t let anything bad happen to you.

When the officer is done patting Suna down, his brow quirks up, "You have nothing on you this time?"

"What can I say, officer, I’m a changed man. Accepted God as my saviour and et cetera."

"Yeah, don’t give me that shit," the man rolls his eyes and wraps his big coat around himself tighter. It seems that the temperature is dropping, "You guys with him?"

"Uh, yeah. We’re friends," Lev answers, with a smile as sweet as can be. The officer has to look up to see Lev’s face and it almost makes you laugh.

“So you deal drugs too?" the officer asks, half-heartedly.

Your nerves spike up, but Lev grips your side tighter and gives you a telling glare saying it’s a joke, relax.

You giggle and shake your head. "No, we usually don’t", you answer with your own joke, making the officer smile wider.

"Good, stay out of trouble. Don’t think it’s necessary to pat you down, although, I’d like to," he gives you a wink and you can almost hear Lev’s jaw clench, big hand squeezing your waist tighter. Suna and you exchange quick glances and he subtly shakes his head. Don’t give him attitude.

"Maybe some other time," a hundred watt smile is gifted from you to the creepy officer; you just hope that he finally fucks off.

"Yeah, maybe. Uh, you guys have a good day. Don’t make me catch ya with drugs again, Rintarou," with the last glance at you, the dark-haired man turns away from your little group and leaves.

An uncomfortable silence hangs over you and you have to wait until the man is far enough to not hear you.

"So, you’re on first name basis with a creepy officer?” Your panic that probably fried more nerves than humanly possible comes out in the form of a joke but before Suna can answer, Lev is letting you go and grabbing Suna’s jacket, almost pulling the man up from the ground with brute strength,

"You motherfucker, you pull shit like that again and I’ll beat you to a fucking pulp."

"Lev-"

Lev briefly turns to you.

"This fuckhead just slipped a baggie of god knows what into your coat, don’t you dare give me that "everything’s okay" attitude, Y/N," Lev’s voice gets comically higher when he mimics your words and you purse your lips, shaking your head. The blonde knew you too damn well.

"Listen, Haiba, I don’t know why you have such a bad impression of me, but I fucking knew he wasn’t gonna pat her down, I wouldn’t put random people, especially pretty damn girls in unecessary danger, okay?"

Your face burns — It’s unbelievable how he manages to flirt when Lev is seconds from breaking his nose. You just silently observe with trembling hands. You never saw Lev like that. He was always this kind of dumb happy-go-lucky dude and just him raising his voice was unusual, not counting the threats he was spouting.

Though, thankfully, Lev doesn’t seem to catch the pretty remark, his handsome face scrunching up at Suna’s excuses. "Yeah, not putting people in unnecessary danger my ass. You do this again, you’re fucked," Lev repeats his words and pushes Suna away. The black-haired man stumbles but manages to keep his footing.

"Got it," Rintarou lifted up his arms as if he got caught doing something he shouldn’t. His tone is condescending and you feel like he doesn’t count on keeping his promise.

Lev reaches for you and you flinch. His big, forest-green eyes widen and he shakes his head.

"It’s okay, Y/N, it’s okay," he assures you.

"See, all your yelling scared her. We could’ve just talked it out like normal people."

Lev doesn’t acknowledge him.

"I’m sorry for screaming. Didn’t mean to scare you, I’m sorry," you nod, looking up at him, "Give me the bag and then we can go. I’ll make it up to you, yeah?"

You nod again and your fingers reach into the inner coat pocket, taking out a small baggie filled with white powder handing it to Lev, who then turns to Suna, just standing with his hands stuffed into his bomber jacket’s pockets. Lev examines the contents of the baggie and scowls and throws it at Suna, who catches it without any trouble, burying it in his jacket pocket carelessly.

"So you’re dealing Phencyclidine again?"

"Good eye," Rintarou nods, "I prefer the name ‘Angel Dust’, though. Sounds pretty, makes people wanna buy it," Suna explains unmindfully, as if he’s not currently discussing hard drugs.

"Figured you couldn’t last long on only selling weed. Though, even I thought you’d stop after the accident. Quite stupid of me." a frown finds it’s way unto Suna’s calm face and Lev grabs your hand, tugging you away. You’re even more confused than you were before and you give Suna one last look.

The man looks sorrowful, eyes far away and lost in thought. "T’was an accident, you know it" he mutters, as Lev finally pulls you away, not letting up until you reach a small coffee shop.

You let him drag you inside, the warmth instantly hitting you. Your head is spinning and legs are weak so Lev attentively sits you down, takes off your coat and scarf, orders two drinks — already knowing your order by heart — and sits down in front of you. You look around, head pounding, noticing that Lev has purposefully chosen a quiet corner booth for you two. He searches for something in his jeans pocket and slides a pill across the table. You manage to lift up an eyebrow, words a scramble in your head, unable to form into sentences. That was way too much stress for you to handle.

"Pain killers, will help you think straight and relieve the side effects of the stress you just went through." You trust him, sometimes, you trust him too much. You obediently swallow the tiny white pill, not needing any water to wash it off. You two drink your drinks in silence, only the quiet jazz music and snippets of other people’s conversations interrupting your quietude. Your head clears and your hands stop shaking so the pill seems to be working. Good.

"Ask away." Lev finally utters, eyes searching your face. You don’t know what he’s looking for and you probably don’t want to know.

"Why do you dislike Suna?" your tone is calm, mind a bit fuzzy from the pill you had just taken.

"He deals drugs and is a scumbag in general."

"What was the accident you mentioned, then?"

Lev shakes his head, pursing his plump lips, "Can’t tell you that, sorry."

"Why?" you feel like a detective and the questions in your head keep coming and coming.

"Made a promise?"

"To who?"

"Kuroo."

You freeze and raise your eyebrows up. It was like you had a bunch of different threads but no way to tie them together. You were really too exhausted to try and the questions you had in your head, the schemes on how to find out the whole plan were mangled all together and made your head pound.

"You really scared me out there. I’ve never ever saw you lash out like that." you confess, unable to look into his eyes, choosing to count colorful floor tiles instead. You never thought you’d be saying words like that to Lev, but you were always unable to lie to him.

"Again, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you it’s just that- He’s a bad man, Y/N. I lose my temper when I have to interact with him and the things that would’ve happened if the officer caught you with a bag of-"

"He didn’t" you cut Lev’s rant off, finally looking up.

"Y/N-"

"Listen," your voice is firm, "I’m not always this happy, kind person, yeah? It’s not gonna be all flowers and rainbows if real shit happens, but I can stand up for myself. We didn’t get caught and you got to scream at Suna. That’s it."

"But you could’ve-"

"Could’ve, yeah. I know that you want me to be mad, but I won’t. Spent too much damn time on that, let me be this ‘romanticised, rom-com fairytale, forgives-everything version’ of myself for these last few years." you spew completely random words and explanations as Lev’s eyes widen and one of his hands finds yours, lacing your fingers together and squeezing hard.

"Don’t even say that. You can be whatever you want to be, I won’t argue with you again, but never say anything about it being your last years."

You snort and Lev looks baffled.

"You see what stress does to me? Can’t even function without painkillers anymore and my muscles are still deteriorating at inhumane speed.. But sure, they're gonna find a cure real quick."

The man before you had sad confusion painted all over his perfect, magazine-worthy face.

"I don’t want to make you sad, Lev, I really don’t, but that’s the reality I’m dealing with and the reality that you’re gonna have to deal with."

"I know," he murmurs, face contorting "I just want to live in this rom-com fairytale reality for a bit longer."

You sigh and give him a tired smile.

"You’re my best friend Lev. You’re the only person I can be real with. You’re the only one who won’t turn away from me when I’m not this perfect, polished version of myself."

Lev gives you the same exhausted smile back, his throat thickens, "Yeah, I’m always there for you."

***

Suna comes back to his quiet tiny apartment and doesn’t even turn on the lights. Just kicks off his shoes, takes off his jacket, goes straight to his room and splays down on the creaky bed. Ideally, Suna would live alone, but rent in Tokyo, even in the worse parts of it, was expensive as fuck and his roomate, Akaashi Keiji, was a perfect person to share it with - quiet, cool and funny, not caring about all of the clients coming. Even now he was cooking something up in the kitchen, probably accompanied with a big cup of coffee, getting ready to work another long night.

There’s a knock on Suna’s door and he lets out a long sigh, "Yeah?"

Akaashi opens the door and looks Rintarou up and down, raising his eyebrows. "I, uh, made ramen. Left some for you on the stove,” Akaashi considers leaving the man alone knowing that he prefers to deal with problems alone, but Keiji’s gut is telling him to ask, "Everything okay with you?"

Suna sits up and just shakes his head. He doesn’t know what pushes him to confess everything. Maybe it’s a slight pang of guilt, or maybe it’s the pain he feels everytime he bottles his emotions up, "I- Ran into Lev when an officer was about to do a drug check on me. He was with this girl… Just slipped a bag of angel dust into her pocket. Knew they wouldn’t check her, yeah? But then Lev went fucking wild and shit and she looked really scared and stressed."

Akaashi fully opens the door and sits down on the dull, gray armchair. "Oh, Lev’s back in the city, then," Akaashi’s eyes widen a bit as he acknowledges the fact and stays silent for a bit, probably trying to make a mental note on it, "You usually don’t get bothered about what other people are feeling," he says, after a moment of silence.

Suna turns to Akaashi and shakes his head, long hair falling in front of his big, moss green eyes. "I don’t. But, man…" Suna groans, "She didn’t get mad at me and even tried to calm Lev down and shit. It was weird, I don’t know."

"Hm."

"Hm?"

Akaashi crosses and uncrosses his legs and then shakes his head, thoughts rattling in his head.

"I think you feel bad ‘cause she was nice and because of the events you caused, she got scared, no? It’s rare that people treat you right, unless they want to sleep with you or get a discount on drugs," He finally offers and Suna’s nonchalant expression changes into a shocked one.

"You could be a fucking psychiatrist, damn it."

Akaashi gives his roommate a small smile and stands up, stretching a bit, "Gonna go edit for a moment. Don’t forget to eat, Suna, yeah?"

Suna gives him a non-committal nod and lays back once again, mind wandering off. Lev’s last words really ingrained into his mind.

***

After Lev takes you back to the hospital, your next few days are filled with a bunch of new tests and a bunch of painkillers that make everything fuzzy; slipping in and out of sleep, only getting up to go to the toilet, eat, or spend a few hours watching tv or reading a book.

It’s easier this way. Doctors said that the stress you went through really damaged your state of health and no matter how much they asked for the source of the stress — you didn’t answer them, pretending that it was as much of a shock for you, as it was for them. Of course, it was temporary and you would be okay, or, as okay as you can be, in a few days. That meant skipping med practice, though.

You’re lying in bed, when your phone beeps. You grunt and pick it up. Maybe Issei had time to visit you, but if you remember correctly - he was working with no free days this week. Maybe Lev then? Akaashi?-

Your eyes almost pop out of your school when you see who texted you. You almost squeal with joy with the instagram notification. It’s a message from username “kuroo_t” and name “Kuroo T.”,. How official of him, you can’t help but let out an embarrassing girly giggle. Oh, he followed you too. Nice. Your finger lingers on the unopened message for a moment, until you finally press it.

Oh. Your face burns. He noticed you were gone, despite you guys only having one conversation. Now you just had to think of a good enough excuse, which was hard, considering the fact that you were currently fangirling. Hard.

He sees your message instantly and starts typing. You exit the chat, the need to stalk his profile way too strong.

Not a private account. His profile picture seems almost professionally taken, but his other pictures - not so much. Some travelling, photos with friends from med practice and if you schroll far down - stuff to do with high school volleyball. Oh, he’s hot. Not hotter than he is in real life, but still so damn attractive. You stop when you scroll to the picture of him with two other guys - one with spiky gray hair, carrying Kuroo in his arms like a baby and another one is just standing there, his gunmetal eyes staring at the camera disapprovingly, but his subtle smile says it all - he’s having fun too.

You couldn’t believe this coincidence. You and Kuroo had mutual friends, which meant that you were gonna do an interrogation on Akaashi, to learn everything interesting about him. A message pops up. Oh, your mind wandered off.

Maybe your mind-set of “you only live once” finally did you some favours, because now you had a date set with one of the hottest guys ever.

taglist: @heizenka @icelyn20 @strawbberyys​

sksk the last message from kuroo shouldn’t have the “and”, so let’s just pretend it’s not there 💀