His Head Was Pressed Between Your Thighs, The Warmth Lulling Him To Sleep. Your Hands Coursed Through

His head was pressed between your thighs, the warmth lulling him to sleep. Your hands coursed through his hair, your fingers brushing off his small knots. Turning his head to make himself comfortable, he noticed something. “Babe have you always had these ?”, he asked, his index finger ever so lightly tracing your stretch mark, immediately making you jolt. “Oh- yeah! I- it’s always been there”, you mumbled quickly, pulling the blanket to cover your bare legs. “I’ve always had these and I didn’t want to tell you because…well it’s not something to be proud of”, you voice came out dull. This however shattered his heart. His hands went back to your thighs, fingers now fully tracing your stretch marks. “I think they’re sexy”, he grins, leaning down to press kisses all over your thighs. “They’re beautiful baby, it makes your thighs look ever more gorgeous”, he smiles, going back to the same spot between your thighs. “Really…you don’t think they’re weird ?”, your surprise was full evident in your tone. “Nope. And I think you should start loving them too. Because, trust me when I say this, they’re beautiful”, he whispered.

MATSUKAWA ISSEI, KUROO TETSUROU, BOKUTO KOUTAROU, IWAIZUMI HAJIME, TENDOU SATORI, SAKUSA KIYOOMI, MIYA ATSUMU, MIYA OSAMU, Kageyama Tobio, Tsukishima Kei, Akaashi Keiji, TOORU OIKAWA

this girl in my class was sobbing since morning cuz some girls told her stretch marks were ugly and it’s weird. And the urge i had to just drag those bitches and pull their hair out was insane. stretch marks are beautiful bro wtf. i have got some too and i just stare at em and admire em. it’s called self love :) and you should do that too. in conclusion, screw what others say :)

Onigiri Miya

mdni - typical jjk fighting, masturbation, interrupted intimacy?? I'm not sure how else to describe it :/

pt. 2 anyone?

-

My mind is a whore house. I've had this video saved on instagram for a while now, and since I've seen the JJK0 movie, I think it fits perfectly for Yuta <33

When he first came to your school, you didn't think much of it like Maki. He was timid and weak - wouldn't last a day fighting curses.

Even you and Maki would talk about him behind closed doors. Not necessarily talking shit per say, but you both pitied him.

"Even with training, he doesn't have much potential. Granted I haven't seen him up against any curses yet, but it's not looking good." You commented while stuffing another mouthful of ramen into your cheeks.

Maki nodded in agreement, "I think Gojo-sensei fucked up this time, he can't just keep picking random kids off the streets."

But Satoru didn't fuck up. In fact, Yuta was the strongest amongst them all. He just needed to be given a chance.

And once that chance was given, no one doubted him again. Yuta was one of your strongest sorcerers, a little rough around the edges, but he wanted to be strong. He had drive and the will power to become incredible.

So both you and Maki would rough him up during training, not because you thought he was weak anymore, but because you both knew he could take it. Because you both had to make sure that he always had some goal to fight towards in terms of training.

What set you apart from Maki though was the way Yuta made you feel. Maki saw him as a peer, a friend, a protector even.

You saw Yuta as the new cute boy.

His pretty, messy hair. That rare smile. His nervous nature. His love for learning. Even the dark circles under his eyes.

You wanted him to yourself.

And it seemed he felt the same.

Because one time, he had slipped into your room during the early hours of the morning to ask you for some one-on-one, yearning for some alone time with you to slip in his chance. You groaned and rolled over in your bed.

"Yuta, the sun isn't even out."

"I-I know, but I really need this training. I want to be strong."

How could you say no? You couldn't pass up a potential opportunity to let your friendship blossom into something more.

When he saw you shuffle around in your sheets and toss you legs over the edge of your bed, he smiled like a child on Christmas morning.

He even took your hands into his, "Thank you! I promise I'll do my best!"

"You're welcome Okkotsu."

Out on the field, you waited for your tea to wake you up. The sun was just barley peaking over the horizon and dusted the sky with yellows and oranges, the soft morning clouds creating the illusion of some grand painting.

You yawned and readied your weapon, "The shit I do for you Yuta."

He giggled and held his katana firmly, "I already said thank you."

"Yeah yeah, let's get on with it."

Little did you know, Yuta had done some training with Gojo. He was swiping you off your feet here, knocking you on your ass there, even got a few solid swings in. You blamed it on the early hour, but deep down you knew that Okkotsu had surpassed you.

On your last round, the sun had risen fully and you knew the other students would be up and about soon. You told him this had to be quick, and he replied cockily with, "With the way you're fighting, it will be."

Goddamnit he was right.

You weren't even two minutes in and he had you on your ass again, knees pining down your shoulders and the wooden prop readied to impale your heart.

With a sigh you smacked the prop from his hands, "It's too early for this, you knew I'd be easy to take down."

Then Yuta leaned down, nose nearly brushing over yours and his large, tired eyes staring mockingly into yours. It was enough to have your cheeks burning red.

"Maybe it's just time you admit you've gotten rusty."

Most of his words came in one ear and slipped out the other, for you couldn't ignore his proximity. With your body pinned to the ground, your mobility was low, so all you could do to hide your evident attraction and embarrassment was to turn your head further into the grass.

That's when Yuta gasped and his hand cupped your cheek, "Oh my God - I'm so sorry Y/n."

The warmth of his hand had your skin searing, "What for?"

"I - ugh - I must've scraped your cheek when we were fighting. I'm sorry." You reassured him there was no reason to worry, "No, let me take care of you and patch this up."

Your words of protest fell upon deaf ears as he drug you by your wrist to the nearest washroom. However, when the sign clarifying the gender of the bathroom came into view, you dug your heels into the ground and halted the both of you.

"Are you crazy? You'll get us suspended!"

As if he knew he had you wrapped around his finger, he slid his hand into yours and laced together your fingers. His hard working palm was rough, but the backside was velvety soft and his nails were well kept.

"Nobody is gonna be in here for another hour, maybe longer. I promise I'll be quick."

Again, you struggled to tell him no, letting him guide you into the men's bathroom and have you stand next to the nearest sink. Beneath it were cabinets where he found some disinfectant and bandages, setting the items on the counter and pausing to check on you.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been so rough with you."

You grinned, "Don't be, it's nothing I couldn't handle ."

He replied with his own grin and readied to clean your scape. The burn of the disinfectant made you screw your eyes shut and hiss, startling Okkotsu, but with a guiding touch on his wrist you told him you would be alright.

Once the bandage was delicately stuck to your skin, Yuta let his fingers linger. They stayed to study and file away the softness of your skin and how it grew hotter with each passing second. His mental filing cabinet for you was growing larger by the day, and now by the second.

But then a question popped into his mind: What would your skin feel like against his lips?

"Just for good measure." He whispered, and let his lips dust the skin next to the bandage.

How you bit your lip after your small gasp and scrunched your fists was dually noted. A small, unapologetic chuckle rumbled his chest.

"What's so funny?" You tried to banter with fake confidence.

Yuta shook his head, "Just you."

What felt like centuries and seconds elapsed. You felt everything and nothing at all. His closeness and touch had you entirely enraptured in him.

Therefore he was the only one to bring you back to Earth, more specifically the mens bathroom, when he slipped from your space to clean up his mess.

But you couldn't let him leave. You wanted him in your space forever, blacking out everything around you except for him and bathing in the feeling of how he could make your heart skip a beat. The special way he made your mind completely clear and think every thought simultaneously was intoxicating. Your craving had you acting before thinking.

When he rose from his crouched position, he faced the mirror with you behind him. Through the mirror he admired you and the small band-aid across your cheekbone and another smile appeared. Only that smile was replaced by his jaw dropping and blown pupils when your arms snaked around his abdomen to fumble with his belt.

"What are you-?"

The belt clinked and you began to slide it through the loops, "Let me take care of you."

His pale cheeks flushed a bashful red at your words - quoting him from earlier.

"Please." He sighed.

Yuta couldn't believe this was really happening. Since his appearance at Jujutsu High, all he could think about was you. How strong you were, your sense of humor and grace, just you. And as embarrassing as it was to him, he'd stroke himself to the thought of you in his dorm, pretending that your pretty hand was the one grasping his length.

The day when you'd have him come undone was nearing as he worked to get you attached to him. He just didn't think it would be the same day he had tainted your beautiful face. Nonetheless, his enthusiasm was spiraling out of control and every step closer to your hand or mouth or core milking him was speeding toward him.

Your lithe fingers slipped the button from its slit, then made quick work of his zipper - who knew that sound could be so lewd?

"Tuna Mayo!"

Inumaki.

You knew better than to abandon Yuta on missions or in any other scenario in life, but this one called for your escape. With your head low, you bolted for the exit and stopped just outside the door to listen.

Yuta was a stuttering mess as he worked to quickly slip his belt back on, "I-Inumaki - wait! It's not, oh God, it's not what it looks like!"

"Salmon..."

Some humiliated whispers came from Yuta before he pleaded, "Please don't tell anyone."

"Kelp." Which must of translated to 'Your secret is safe with me' because Yuta followed up with a series of thank you's.

Even you let out a sigh of relief and some of the guilt pooling in your stomach fizzled away. It would the a challenge to face Toge without your body wanting to whisk away in the wind - you owed him.

And you also owed Yuta, who would be using the next chance he got to finish the business you started.

iwaizumi’s hand hurts.

if he’s honest, he doesn’t remember exactly what happened, it’s not much more than a blur of you—the color of your hair, the sound of your voice, your shaky fingers raising around his arm. he got angry, he wanted to punch the guy, he did punch the guy, and then he was being pulled away from the party and into his own apartment, just a few doors down.

you’d stumbled for his keys, reaching a hand into his back pocket where you knew he kept them, and he’d watched—a little pathetically holding his hand while he waited—and let you unlock the door for him.

and then you’d tugged him inside, told him to sit on his kitchen counter, and went rooting around in his freezer.

and now, his mind is still a little blurry, but you’re standing in front of him and cradling his hand in a bag of frozen peas, and you’re shaking your head at him and mumbling something that sounds an awful lot like a scolding.

and he hates that you look so pretty right now, that, when you’re being drenched in the yellow light of his apartment, when the moonlight can’t even reach you from his blinds, when your brows are creased together and you’re biting at your lip like you’re holding back things that are much worse than what you’ve already been saying (and unfortunately for him, he hasn’t really been listening to those things, so he knows he isn't making it better for himself).

but you look pretty. despite everything, despite the way you sigh when you look at him, despite the fact that you’re his best friend.

“iwa,” you say, tone a little sharp. he snaps back then, gaze finding yours, and he realizes that the way you were biting your lip before wasn’t to stop yourself from saying something worse, but to hold back a smile.

and oh, you’re awful at that.

“are you even listening to me?” you ask, and you sound upset, but then you’re smiling up at him and he isn’t ignorant to the way your fingers twine around his. if he asked, he’s sure you’d say you’re just testing to make sure they don’t hurt. he’s not sure he’d believe you now.

“no,” he replies, “no, i wasn’t.”

you roll your eyes and sigh at him, but you also bow your head towards him until your hair just barely brushes his hand, and he realizes something awful as his fingers curl towards you, as they bend to your will and as he bends to your beck and call—as he wishes to curl his fingers around the curve of your jaw and rise of your cheeks.

he likes you, in the worst, most inconvenient way, he likes you.

and at the time, he hadn’t known why he punched the guy, had only known that the way he was looking at you and the way he kept pushing you to come with him had made iwaizumi angry.

and maybe he should’ve known when you looked so pretty, should’ve known when you smiled at him and he felt the way his own lips tugged upwards in an automatic reply, should’ve known when he texted you first thing when he was out of his classes and should’ve known when he couldn’t be with someone else without thinking of you.

he’s stupid, irredeemably so, but he likes you.

“i don’t know why i try with you,” you say with another little sigh as you bring your head back up, hands still never leaving his.

(he knows it’s for the damn frozen peas, he chooses to think otherwise).

“you know,” you begin, turning his hand in your palm, watching the way bruises bloom over his knuckles. “i could’ve handled it.”

he doesn’t speak, but he raises a brow at you, a little amused smirk pressing creases into his cheeks. you meet his gaze with a little roll of your eyes.

“okay, okay, no. i wouldn’t have handled it. stop looking at me like that.” he laughs at that one, and he doesn’t miss the way you smile at him. “but you didn’t have to do it.”

“and i did it anyway.”

“but you didn’t have to.”

and iwaizumi, irredeemably stupid, irredeemably head over heels for you, knows he didn’t have to punch the guy. he knows well enough that he could’ve just told him to back off, that he’s done it before, that he could’ve dragged you away and thrown some choice words back at him.

so he shrugs, a terrible blush collecting at the tips of his ears that makes him want to press the frozen peas there instead of his throbbing hand, and just looks at you.

“i didn’t like the way he was talking to you. that’s all.”

there’s a little silence that follows his breath, and, for a moment, he’s sure that there’s something you want to say, something on the tip of your tongue that you can’t quite let escape your lips. instead of saying anything though, you look down towards his hand, trace your finger over the knuckles and drag with it the cold water that’s melted onto his hand. you press one of your fingers into the bruises and he winces, hissing a little at the pressure.

“stupid,” you mumble.

“the other guy’s worse than me,” he says, and you laugh again, a weak little thing—hardly more than a rush of breath past your lips.

“i don’t think the other guy is holding peas to his hand right now.”

“good thing i’m not either. that’s what i have you for.” you narrow your eyes at him, leaning forward to swat his arm with the back your hand, but he catches it with his left hand before you ever make contact. “and i’m pretty sure i broke his nose.”

“you definitely did,” you say, a little lighter, a little laughter mixing with the syllables.

and then there’s another bit of silence that chases after your laughter, another moment of your fingers tracing patterns against his skin, of your eyes flitting over his face like you’re looking for something that even he couldn’t find.

he likes you—too much, so much that right now, he can only think about kissing you, can only think about bringing his hand to your jaw and guiding your lips to his. he wants to kiss you as badly as he wants to breathe, wants to kiss you as badly as he wants the throbbing in his hand to stop, wants to kiss you as badly as he wants to listen to your laugh and watch the curve of your smile.

“hey-”

he doesn’t finish the sentence, because next thing he knows you’re leaning up to him, abandoning the frozen peas to instead cradle his face in your hands. they’re cold against his skin, but they’re you and you’re sweet and gentle and suddenly your lips are on his and you’re kissing him for the first time.

and he’s being surrounded by everything that’s you, the smell of your citrus shampoo and your honey perfume, the taste of your mint chapstick on his lips, the feeling of your fingertips across his cheekbones and his along his jaw.

you go to pull away and he raises his left hand to your cheek, pulling you back into him because hell if he’s going to let this end early. he feels the way you laugh into him, feels the pull of your smile against his lips and god he’s going to fall for you.

when you do pull away, when he moves so his forehead is leaned against yours, so he can feel the fanning of your breath against his skin, he hears you whisper.

“you didn’t have to punch him,” you say, and when he goes to protest, you kiss him again, just for a moment to shut him up, “but thank you anyway.”

and then you kiss him for a third time, and iwaizumi decides he’d punch as many guys as needed just to feel this again.

(he doesn’t have to, you’ll kiss him as many times as he allows).

reblogs and interaction are super appreciated ❤︎

You are not as innocent as you look

Warning/content: nipple piercing (f), fem!reader, she/her pronouns used, praise kink and body worship

A/n: this is so bad im so sorry, i just wanted to throw this idea out cause i love it, but i can't write smut like, at all, so yeah, whatever

Sakusa, Osamu, Iwaizumi, Suna, Atsumu;

You and your boyfriend have been together for nearly a year, but you have never been this intimate yet,at least not until today where a heated make out session led to him being on top of you shirtless and you under him, braless.

Since you always wanted to take it slow with the intimacy, he alwas thought that you were an innocent pretty little thing, but now that he sees the nipple piercing on your left breast, he is questioning all his ideas of you.

He never thought he would be seeing something like this, you've fooled him for good; and now that he sees the truth before his eyes ー that you're a filthy pervert who never told him about your piercing just so you could have this moment, could act all shy and embaressed and hot under his flaring gaze ー he doesn't hold back.

His dick twitches hard at the sight, his red and angry tip leaking in his pants as he worships your body.

"That's so fucking hot, baby" he whispers, touching your pierced nipple gently, playing with the metal between his fingers.

He rubs your hardened bud with his thumb, "When did you get this?"

"Around a year ago, few months before we got together." you pant, meeting his lustful eyes.

He smirks and leans down to kiss your neck, leaving purple hickeys to mark you as his.

"So you planned this all along huh? and here i thought you were such an innocent girl."

It doesn't take him long before latching onto your pierced nipple, nibbling it between his teeth gently, making you moan at the feeling.

"God, you're so perfect." he says as he opens your legs to peck on your inner thigh.

He teases you until you beg him to hurry because you can't take it anymore, and that's when he eats you out like a starved man. No ー he doesn't "eat you out", he makes out with your pussy for his own pleasure and he is not stopping until he is satisfied.

He won't take this further though, because he knows that his pretty baby is not ready yet, so he will wait as much as she needs.

But god is he horny. He can't get enough of your tear stained face and that pierced nipple, it makes him incredibly hard, but all he can do is grind onto your thigh in hopes of relieving some of his stress.

You may not be ready to have sex yet, but he looks so desperate, so needy that you want to help him out somehow.

"Baby, let me help you out, yeah?"

It doesn't take him much to cum with your mouth stuffed full of his cock

Reblogs are really appreciated!

BTS | Grammys 2022