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e. yaeger | 18+ — smut, dirty talk 

Eren Yaeger who fucks you hard, makes you sit on his cock while he thrusts up into you. Wraps one arm all the way around your waist, broad palm splaying across your opposite rib while the other paws at your tits, tweaking your pert nipples and watching the way it makes you react. 

bakugou is only drinking because you’re on holiday right now with your girls. without you around, his whole routine has gone out of whack. no visiting you after work or picking you up from your writing class. no lounging on your sofa as he cooks you fancy pasta in your tiny kitchen with your roommate next door. he saves some for her also.

bakugou feels like a train run off the tracks, a zombie in his body, all the colours in his world have fallen flat.

so he’s taken to one of the most popular vices, alcohol with his buddies. his buddies aren’t helping. kaminari doesn’t know how to please this new girl he’s seeing and kirishima thinks he’s suitable to give advice. the third beer bakugou has downed makes them less annoying. just a smidge.

bakugou leans his head on the back of kirishima’s sofa, staring blankly at the ceiling. his beer fisted on his knee. you’re probably leaving the beach now, in that pretty striped bikini you snapped a photo of a few hours ago. you said you were going to sunbathe, eat snacks, listen to music and read your book. group solo time you said. he wishes he was with you now.

“and i know she’s going to leave me for it,” kaminari whines into his palms, “b-but i tell her that i can keep going but she says no she’s fine. i think she finds it awkward because i just came and she hasn’t.”

kirishima knocks his empty can on his coffee table. it’s surprising he’s even got one in his only basic necessities needed bachelor pad.

“you don’t finger her at the beginning? eat her out? girls love that.”

bakugou looks at his phone. no notifications from you. he huffs.

“why are you huffing and not helping me! i’m crying for help here!” kaminari moans, then burps right after. bakugou winces. “i do all the foreplay! she doesn’t come during that either!”

bakugou entertains him. he swings his head on the sofa to look at one of his longest friends. “the fuck are you doin’ if she’s not comin’ when you’re eatin’ her?”

even though kaminari asked him, he and kirishima turn to look at bakugou with these slow drunken blinks.

“hah? what?”

“what do you know about….” kaminari starts.

kirishima leans forward to his best friend, truly interested in his answer, “sexually pleasing women?”

“what are you two idiots on? obviously i know.” though bakugou flushes red at the topic.

sure he’s not the most experienced in womenkind but he is in one. he knows what you like.

“wait how—,” kirishima starts but kaminari cuts in with desperation neither men have seen before.

“kacchan how!” he cries, hands clasped together and shaking in bakugou’s face. “how do i make my lady orgasm?”

bakugou’s quick to push kaminari away, having him fly to the other side of the sofa but still, he looks to him for answers with eager eyes.

“get the hell off me!” bakugou says then remembers to check his phone. still no text from you. not even an update on the sunset on the beach? a selfie? damn. he shuts his device and looks to his friends. “the problem is you idiots callin’ it foreplay. touchin’ her is sex.”

“kacchan!” he urges.

“fuck! i usually eat her out and when she’s close, i add in my fingers. shit has her comin’ down my wrist on command.” bakugou blurts like the words were dragged out of his throat. then his blush deepens. he takes a swig of his beer.

kaminari’s mouth gapes open, “what the fuck? tell me HOW. in DETAIL!”

“who?” kirishima asks, tilting his chair to look at bakugou properly. “why didn’t you tell your brothers you had a girlfriend?”

“none of your fuckin’ business.”

“i bet you told deku!”

“fuck off about deku…,” then bakugou sighs. no notifications, “i met her through round face. she told him.”

“guys we’re going off topic. tell me how kacchan.” kaminari asks, about to crawl into bakugou’s lap.

bakugou shrugs. large motions all huffy and dramatic.

“it’s f-fuckin’ instinctual,” bakugou rubs his eyes. alcohol and thinking about your pussy around his friends. this wasn’t how he was expecting his evening to go. “i just suck and lick at her clit. i’m loud and messy with it… she likes that. stick my tongue in her, kiss her thighs. i dunno i just do everythin’. then when she’s about to come, she gets all grabby at my hair, pushin’ my head into her so i finger her. she explodes with these cute ass squeals.”

“shit, man,” from kirishima.

“damn kacchan… feel like i needa be making notes.” kaminari inches towards bakugou and bakugou grunts, spreading his legs to get comfortable. “but wait, before that, what happens? and what’s the technique when you give head? a—and your fingers—,”

it’s the alcohol that makes bakugou really consider his questions. thinking about you softens him, gets him warm and fuzzy inside.

“my woman told me that foreplay starts in the mornin’. she likes when i kiss her awake and sweet talk her. cute texts during the day. cookin’ for her and havin’ a plan for the evenin’ even if it’s watchin’ a movie. means when we start makin’ out on the sofa she’s climbin’ all over me, grindin and feelin’ for my dick.”

bakugou looks his friends up and down. “i don’t do all that to get my dick wet though. i do it ‘cause i like seein’ her happy.” then after frowning, “i do like eatin’ her pussy. i miss her.”

kirishima feels the urge to open hinge and messaging his matches. he wants whatever his best friend has.

“where is she?”

“on holiday with her friends.”

“why didn’t you go?”

“i said with her fuckin’ friends. i’m not her friend. why would i be there?” he snaps.

kirishima shrugs. “can we see a photo? what’s she look like?”

bakugou can do that. he goes into his photo gallery. he’s got so many photos of you to choose from.

“do you alternate between small licks and big licks? and your fingers, what’s the motion?”

bakugou rolls his lips in pondering, “big one at the start just to taste everythin’. then small licks on her clit. whatever gets her moanin’ loud.” he lazily flicks through selfies of you, “i curl my fingers inside her. brush against her insides.”

“and—,”

“this her.” bakugou thrusts his phone in his friends faces.

it’s a selfie you took yesterday on a boat in your striped bikini. the sun beams down on you beautifully, making you glow while the sea is bright blue behind you. you’re smiling, squinting slightly from the sun.

“don’t look too goddamn hard!” he barks once two heads duck closer to his phone.

“what’s her name? she’s gorgeous?”

“oh wow!”

bakugou doesn’t have a chance to answer when his phone is overcome from a phone call, showing your first name and last name.

“fuck, fuck, fuck,” bakugou whips up from his seat, “she hasn’t called all day. i’m goin’ into your bedroom. don’t wait up for me.”

bakugou storms into kaminari’s bedroom, answering the phone in haste, “baby, finally. i’ve been waitin’ for you to call… no, i’m not drunk…. just a lil.”

once the bedroom door clicks shut, kirishima sighs, “i’m gonna get back on hinge… actually maybe ochako has some friends for me?”

✦ katsuki and his shy girl get to third base ⸝⸝ .ᐟ ꉂ — warnings : kissing, brief marking, p in v, teasing, pwp ✦˚˖ ᵎᵎ

take it off. three short words that's somehow snowballed into this — bodies stuck together through the haze of warmth and sweat, a hand splayed gently over your hip while his other makes quick work between your thighs.

it hasn't even been thirty minutes since katsuki had his face pressed against your chest, your thighs wrapped around his head. small moments that led to you laid on the bed with your legs spread, two of his fingers dragging in and out of you.

even with the waves of pleasure, you still wish this bed could swallow you whole. save you from the intoxicating feeling of his fingers, and that stare that tells you he's engraving every inch of you to memory.

"should i stop now?" he questions, bracing himself above you as his fingers pull wet sounds from your core, "you think you can take me?"

blissed out in your own high, all you can manage is a nod — a whisper of his name slipping from your lips when his fingers leave you completely.

your eyes flick to his, impatience glinting behind them — something that doesn't go unnoticed by your boyfriend.

"what're you thinking about?"

his hands are already tugging at his boxers, slinking them down the length of his waist as he frees himself from the tight fabric. 

"you gotta talk to me" he chuckles at your slack jaw, pumping himself from base to tip before he's inching towards your entrance, "not doin' shit unless you talk to me"

smug asshole.

GOOD THINGS ARE HAPPENING

BETTER THINGS ARE COMING

when your husband is supposed to be the rational one, you don’t expect to find him standing at the foot of the bed with his cock in his hand.

but that’s where satoru ends up. tank top pushed halfway up his ribs, belt hanging from one loop, pants around his knees. his fist works up and down the fat length of his cock in rough strokes, spit and precum smeared down to his balls. he’s staring at you the whole time, at the curve of your hip under the sheet, the flutter of your lashes against your cheek. pregnant. glowing. carrying his baby.

and he’s rutting into his hand like some desperate virgin.

the panties he stole from the laundry basket are bunched in his other hand, pressed to his face. he inhales it, shuddering so hard that the flimsy fabric trembles against his nose. your scent has him sobbing out a noise that doesn’t sound him at all.

“fuck, baby—” the words rip out of him, pitched high. “smell so good... oh fuck, i can’t stop...”

his cock is obscene. flushed dark, veins raised under the skin, the head slick enough to shine in the faint glow of the bedside lamp. precum drips in heavy strings down his balls, thick enough to coat his knuckles. every stroke drags more slick out of him—schlick, schlick, schlick.

he sucks at the fabric like it could feed him, panting between licks, nose buried deep so he could breathe you in while his tongue works. “god, i'd eat you out for days if i just—mnhm!—if i just had the chance...”

his hips snap forward into his own fist, cock smacking his stomach with each thrust. precum splatters onto his tank top, dripping onto the hardwoods.

disgusting. a husband rutting into his fist because he’s too scared to touch his pregnant wife.

but satoru can’t stop. he’s babbling now, words spilling fast and needy. “want it so bad—fuck, i’d worship you, i'd never stop—”

he chokes on a sob as his balls tighten up, cock jerking violently in his grip. the sound he makes is straight up humiliating, a high and euphoric whine.

cum spurts out in heavy ropes, painting his stomach, his abs, fist, and the floor. lewd, thick jets that won’t stop, spilling like his body is trying to empty years of frustration at once. it drips down the backs of his fingers, strings across his knuckles, sprays his shirt. he gasps, still pumping through it, cock twitching violently.

“ah—mnhg—too much...” more cum leaks out, drooling down his cock, streaking his thighs. his knees buckle and he braces one hand on the nightstand, forehead dropping against the wood with a hollow thud.

when it’s finally over, when the spurts slow to tiny dribbles, he’s still shaking so hard he can barely breathe. his cock still pulses against his stomach, half-hard like it doesn’t know how to stop.

and you’re still asleep, lips parted beautifully while he stands there.