a noise of dissatisfaction slips from your gaped lips, eyes slamming shut once the tears heavy on your waterline begin to weigh them down, salty droplets drifting down the sides of your warmed cheeks towards your jaw.

tenya notices.

“it’s a big stretch, isn’t it?” he asks, navy eyes following the gleaming substance, leaning forward to chase it. the bed creaks once he’s pressing his lips into your cheek, kissing you as if he’s scared to hurt you, like his cock isn’t currently demolishing your gushing walls, clenching cunt stuttering. “relax for me princess, need to make sure you don’t get hurt.”

you peer up at him, once meticulously gelled hair laying wildly down his forehead, glasses forgone and folded against the mahogany bedside table. only you can see him like this; a maddening sight pressed tightly against you, large hands massaging the sides of your waist, strong biceps tensing. he’s already holding himself back.

your hands find his much larger ones, nails biting into the veins tensing beneath them, “c-can’t! ‘m too hot and you’re too big and i can’t!”

tenya knows how to bring you back down to earth, voice slowly humming against your ear, “but you can, remember?” he quickly adjusts the two of you, cock halting its protrusion as his hands find your face, holding your cheeks in his grasp almost pinching the flesh, “here, look at me—look at daddy, please.”

daddy.

it’s difficult to hold his sullen gaze, especially when he refers to himself as that, the title only reserved for heavy times like this. your brain feels gooey, just as sloppy as your cunt squeezing the life out of his cock, the blood rushing towards the tip only causing it to ache further between your thighs, prodding tip shifting around your walls.

“it’s hurting, daddy.” it flies out of your mouth in a whisper, legs shaking once he’s pressing in again, slotting another inch of his heavy cock inside. you can’t help but look down to where the two of you meet, lips stuttering once you realize he’s not even close to filling you fully. “it’s hurting and y-you’re not even halfway—”

“—shhhh, focus on how good you feel.” tenya muses, placing a broad thumb to your clit, massaging your body with precision, smiling only when your cries turn into moans.

“tenyaaa…”

“yes sweetheart? that feels okay? ’m almost inside, princess.” relief washes over his face once he feels you relax, thankfully knowing your body like the back of his hand.

rubbing the pretty button between your legs so softly you can feel every wave of pleasure trickling through you, the pain dulling into ecstasy.

mewling, shaking legs wrap around his waist, “feels a lot better, thank you tenya.”

“good girl… i’m so proud of you baby, taking daddy so well.”

he can feel himself falling apart.

you’ve never taken this much this quickly, your greedy walls so agonizingly slippery, tenya knows he could push himself all the way inside, yet realizes shouldn’t.

not when you’re staring at him like this, holding on to every word he says as if he hung the moon, irises gleaming with a softness that stiffens his already rock hard cock.

“w-wanna feel all of you, want it to hurt.” you’re babbling, head lazily shifting from side to side as on the silkened pillowcase, ankles pressing into his hips in hopes he will move.

he doesn’t.

“ahh but—but it’s not going to hurt, i’ll make sure of that.” he clears his throat, cock twitching as another thick inch disappears inside of you and sighing as you clench around him, “but if that’s what you’d like, i’d be more than happy to give my baby what she needs.”

your eyes widen, “please?”

“please, what?” he corrects, placing the pad of his thumb roughly against your clit, causing you to squirm, “when you want something, you need to ask nicely.”

“please…” you feel your cheeks heat up when you catch his gaze, lips quivering as they form the five icky letters tenya so desperately needs to hear, “… daddy?”

you can feel his cock twitch inside of you, placing a wet sloppy kiss to your drooling lips, murmuring, “of course. anything for you.”

sure, he could always just put the blame on you. young, horny and ovulating like a madwoman, it wasn’t his fault for cumming deep inside of your fertile womb, especially when you’re wrapping your legs around his hips like this. ankles pushing him so taught against your frame he can barley fuck you properly, keeping him nice and cozy wrapped around your cunt.

his hands were all over you, cracked palms rubbing down the soft ‘n supple skin on your moisturized thighs and stretching you as far into the mattress he possibly can, you’d turned the overly stoic, permanently grouchy man wild.

delirious even.

pussy walls warmly inviting him inside to overstay his welcome, he should have never agreed to fucking you raw tonight, because now that he’s felt around your bare gummy g-spot practically massaging his throbbing cock head, he knows he can’t bring himself to stop.

you can see that look on his face, the one of a man fighting with the angel and devil sat upon his heavy shoulders, furrowed brows partially covered by his leather eyepatch, crows feet sketching his face crinkling in defeat.

“d-don’t pull out,” you’re blurting out of pert lips, nails dragging down the milky flesh of his shoulder blades, reddening lines appearing in your trace, words slurring, “i’m so close, pull out ‘n you’ll ruin it for me!”

aizawa shakes his head, dark tendrils frizzing from the sheer amount of sopping heat surrounding the bedroom, words gravelly, “should’ve said something earlier. should have told you no, not tonight.”

he blinks down at you once, twice. black lashes doing little to shield him from just how pretty you’re looking smushed in the mattress, white sheets surrounding you like an innocent angel. how ironic.

“how is it that you always seem to get your way?” but that deprived devil stares him down in the shape of you, unable to rip himself from your cozy cunt, plap, plap, plaping! gushing walls expanding and carving a perfect curve to pour his seed into. he knows he’ll give you what you want, especially when your canal squeezes him into subtly obeying. “don’t know how to tell you no, seems like you’re too god damned spoiled, kid.”

“not spoiled! you’re taking c-care of me—shit! taking care of me like you s-should.” plump lips curling into a smile, chewing on it in attempts to hide yourself from gloating at the very man destroying your pussy, voice cooing, “getting soft on me now, aren’t you old man?”

turning into a panting mess beneath him, head tossing and turning once the boiling feeling of your impending orgasm rumbles beneath the surface, limbs woozy, mind jaded.

“you are a damn brat,” he’s scoffing, cheeks tinting pink at the dirty name. maybe he is older, in fact he definitely is, yet you are… “fucking spoiled. a spoiled little brat.”

“mmm whatever, you love it t-though!” now you’re giggling, fingers toying with the strands of hairs sticking to his sculpted back, pulling hard enough to make him hiss.

“yeah, yeah,” aizawa grumbles, knowing you’re the very reason he’s pulling the faint strands of silver hairs out from his hairline in the mirror, cock and heart secretly obsessing over the way you toy with him, “maybe i do.”

keeping him on his toes, you make him feel young again, a bright light in the darkness and destruction around him, all without any idea that you’re the one helping him pick up the pieces, staring at you with soaring adoration each time he thinks you’re not looking.

“fuckkk! right t-there!” you yelp, eyes rolling into the back of your skull once your climax tumbles down the twisting valley of your core to crumble at your g-spot. skittish limbs gripping him in place and shaking once his hips grind into yours, onyx thatch of hair on his pelvis smooching your sensitive clit. “please, please don’t stop!”

“wouldn’t dare,” aizawa’s sighing, pressing his lips into yours when he cums—finally inside. instantly plugging your pussy and witty mouth up with wet traces of him, tongue digging past your lips whilst his cock swabs at the tight knot of your cervix, seed drowning your walls full of him. and god does he hope it sticks.

by the look you’re giving him once he pulls away from swollen lips in an attempt to take a staggered breath? he knows you’re both thinking the same thing.

Nanami isn’t really sure why you invited him over to your dormitory in the first place. Sure, it was technically normal for the two of you to study together, but you always choose a safe space to do so, shooting him an email with a time and location, notebooks and backpacks wildly spread in the quiet of the campy library or the freshly mowed grass at the park.

So when you kindly asked him to just swing by your dorm since it would be so much easier on your way too busy schedule for a student, he accepted—although he was royally confused.

It was a nice day out, the sun finally deciding to show its self from the murky clouds from the winter season that just seemed to drag on, he wondered why you wouldn’t want to be out there. T-shirts, light jackets, and ruffled skirts, it was the perfect day to sit and bake in the sunshine, the kind of weather nobody would want to be locked away from.

At least it was cozy in your living space, a little glitzy and feminine for his minimalistic taste, it still had an effect on the man, making him feel overtly giddy about the fact he was in your room, alone.

The breeze aimlessly trickling in through the cracked gap of your window did little to subdue the racing thoughts of his mind though, not when your sat so close to him, shampoo smelling like the ripest picked strawberry, and god did Nanami suddenly adore strawberries.

The pink leather of your chair suddenly moves closer to him, the wheels easily sliding on the carpet. Your bare shoulder firmly presses itself against his covered one, his eyes instantly realizing how soft your skin looks up close. “My personal life? That’s so sweet of you,” you muse, raising your hand up to pluck a picture off the cork grain.

But surely you’re sweeter, glittery lipgloss reflecting off the bright beams of the sunlight, a multicolored array of specks he so desperately wants to kiss away from your plump lips.

You continue, eyes widely scanning your own pictures as if the memories are all coming back to you at once. “This one here is me and my best friend. Senior prom I think? I don’t know, ‘s been a while since I looked like that.” You think outloud, casually filling the silence with your childhood memories.

Reaching over him now, your chest presses inches away from his face, your low-cut tank top giving him the perfect view of your neon pink push-up bra as you continue. “And this one over here is from last summer… and as you can tell.” You laugh, pointing to the look of contentment on your face. “I really needed a vacation.”

But to Nanami, you look as you always do…perfect.

You're lying on a polka-dot towel, your palms laying flat on each side of your bottom as you smile brightly for the camera, cheeks glistening in the bright sunlight reflecting off the ocean.

He desperately tries to not stare at your skin tight bikini, the tiny pink floss just barely holding your breasts to your chest the sides of your tits pouring out of the flimsy material. The bottom half of your frame is far worse on him, the beaded strings of your swim bottoms tied together so snug that the fat of your hips dimples around the fabric, your hips so soft and appearing like the perfect size to sneak his perverted head between.

If only he could see you like that, toxic green envy showing its evil head on his face, wondering who exactly takes up your time and space when the two of your aren’t in school.

“Do you not have any with your boyfriend?” He asks, and by the look on his suddenly stark white face you’re absolutely sure he didn’t mean to say that out loud.

“Boyfriend?” You question, chest rapidly shaking at the laughter swirling in your belly. “If I had one of those he’d be up here.”

Pointing to the blank corner of your wall, Nanami catches him self sighing a sound he didn’t realize he was holding back, his shoulders suddenly relaxing into the chair with a ‘huff’ of air exhaling from the ratty leather.

“Oh I just thought that—”

“—do you have a girlfriend?” You cut him off, your own line of questioning just as blunt, body flopping back down on your chair to do a spin. “I mean. If you had a girlfriend…wouldn’t you take lots of pictures with her?”

It’s your turn to pry into his personal business, Nanami being the kind of man to never let you in too deep on his life outside of school, sometimes mistaking his reluctance for indifference.

“N-No, I’ve never had a girlfriend, too busy with my studies.”

“No way!” The spin of your chair slows with your face inches away from his, your palms now flat on your lap, breathing heavily. “Have you ever even kissed someone before?”

His usual flat expression falters, eyes widening with shock at the fact you out of all people in the world would even ask him that. The gears begin to shift in his head, treading lightly at the possibility of messing up his answer, mouth opening and closing.

Nanami’s eyes follow your pupils, soft eyes flicking down to his lips, then back to his eyes as you whisper, cheap lip gloss scented breath hitting his face.

“Do y’wanna try?”

Now you’ve done it. The man who can’t shut up when it comes to teaching you the basics of homeostasis now suddenly can’t get a single word out of his slacked mouth, his tongue just as dry as his mind, brain drying up like the cracked sediment in the desert.

He must be dreaming, his clammy fingers suddenly biting down so roughly against the soft muscle of his bicep he yelps, voice making you look back at him with a sinful smirk. You raise your eyebrows once; twice before you're standing up from your seat, knees bumping his own.

“You coming or what Kento?” You question, making your way to the fluffy mattress, your neatly made sheets practically aching to be messed up by the two of you.

Clumbisy, Nanami trails over to you like a lost puppy, taking extra precaution to avoid that stupid wooden pencil he dropped, but somehow failing to miss the white bedframe, hitting his toe on the edge.

Huffing, he falls to the corner of your bed, sheets puffing up around his lanky legs. He’s trying his hardest to focus on the throbbing through his sock and not the one currently heavily thumping in his chest.

“C’mere.” You whisper as if he’d subconsciously lean into the quiet sounds of your voice.

He takes a better look at you now, your face so close yet so away from his own, but your eyes are caught somewhere else, watching your fingers picking at your manicured finger nails.

Were you nervous? To kiss… him? It would not make any sense, the always bubbly, feverishly chatty girl all the guys pine after would feel like this alone with him, you must have to feel bad for him.

He angles his right leg up on the mattress, tucking it beneath him. “I’ve never… I-I don’t know what to do.” Nanami admits with direct honesty because truthfully, if he ended up going this far with you, sitting on the same mattress you sleep on, it would be more than enough for him.

“I’ll go real slow okay? Just follow my lead.” You utter, leaning back on your arms just like that damned picture of you on that sandy beach, your tits directly in his view. “a-and if you wanna stop, please don’t be afraid to tell me.”

Oh but he wouldn’t. “Okay.” He says instead, lungs already breathless staring at your plump lips.

“If you wanna kiss me, you need to get closer.” You say it like you’re attempting to antagonize him, but you’re unable to hide the sugary sweet sounds that coat your vocal cords.

Nanami can’t move himself if he tried, body stone-like tucked away in the safety of the corner of your bed. “Is this close enough? I’d prefer not crowding your personal space.”

But you only laugh, grabbing the collar of his shirt, pulling his face to your own. “And I’d prefer if you’d shut up and kiss me already.”

Before he knows it, your soft lips are on his own, your nose brushing his. At first it’s cautious, your lips so gently rested against his own as if you’re scared he’s going to retreat back into his shell and push you away, but he doesn’t.

Nanami is in heaven, your soft mouth feeling just like it does in his late night wet dreams, your hands gently tugging his shirt not because you have to, but because you truly want it—want him. It makes his belly swirl ‘round and ‘round, his butterflies deep in his core aimlessly floating in a sweet galaxy of you.

He tastes like the sugary caramels he’s always sucking on, lips wet and sticky from how often he licks and bites them each time he’s hard at thinking—which is quite often, the sweet taste making you moan.

Nanami finally kisses you back, lips slightly pursed just enough to feel your top and bottom lip sink against his, his nose smelling the artificial flavoring of your lipgloss.

But he couldn’t care less about the tacky scent, your sticky lips masking all the noises outside your window. While everyone is out enjoying the sun and the birds are chirping aimlessly on the budding branches, Nanami feels like he’s finally feeling exactly what he’s been missing out on all this time, secretly feeling incredibly lucky his first time kissing a girl is with you.

“Hold on!” Your voice shatters the clam Nanami has created in his head, your hands practically peeling him off of you.

Suddenly his rapidly beating heart falls into his stomach and into the bubbling pit of nervousness, muscle swallowed by the sour acid. It was barely a kiss, technically some would call it a peck but he wasn’t counting how long your lips actually remained against his own. You make him feel so flustered he could scream.

“D-Did I do something wrong?” He asks gently, cheeks flushed a the prettiest hue of pink you’ve ever seen, wondering where you can find a bedspread that same shade of rose.

Laughing, you cup his jaw, feeling the heat radiating off his face. “No, you’re perfect. Just wanna take these off, keep getting in the way of your pretty face.” Your hands gently pull his glasses off his nose, metal screeching as you fold them and place them on your nightstand.

The noise that falls from his swollen lips is almost embarrassing, an animalistic growl no one would ever expect to roar from the lips of Kento Nanami echoing off a girls dorm walls.

But you only smile, catching the glint of shimmer hanging from the corner of his pouting lips. “Oh! Made a mess.” Giggling, you place the pad of your lotioned thumb to his bottom lip, feeling the warmth pulse beneath your fingerprints.

“No! I mean, that’s okay.” He shakes his head, golden locs falling to his eyes. Nanami’s eyes go wide at you beginning to swipe your finger over his lip, “Wait! Don’t wipe it off just yet.” He shrieks, jerking his head back and away from your finger, feeling the suction dissipate from the grip on his lip.

If he looks how he feels, Nanami is sure he’s as red as a cherry tomato hanging from a vine, his voice stuttering uncontrollably as he leans up to you again, this time sitting slightly closer. “Sorry I—can we do that again?”

“Yeah Nanamin? You want that?”

Nanamin. The childish nickname always used by his friends coming from your lips suddenly makes his cock jump in his pants, a whine rumbling from his chest.

“Please.”

He can’t help but beg, eyes glittering, bottom lip dipping into the most cutest pout. Surely if anyone saw him like this they’d tease him, but you look at him like he holds all the questions to your prayers.

You give him a nod, but this time you don’t move—instead sitting there waiting for him to take initiative, and when he finally realizes why you're leaning back, he surges forward, pressing his lips back into yours.

It’s silly, having such a stoically silent Nanami easily turning into a man of undying hunger, his mouth practically eating your own, loud smacks of spittle and lipgloss gushing around your eardrums with a ‘pop!’

Your nails trail up and down his red neck, fingertips hitching justtt below that sweet spot on his strong jawline. Pressing down, your nails dig into the flesh, the shocking stimulation causing Nanami to shriek.

“You—Ahh!”

With his mouth flying open, it gives you the perfect opening to shove your tongue past his swollen lips, gently swirling your pink muscle around his own; licking each ridge of his bumpy tongue.

You're unsure if you’re mewling or he is, little breathless sounds slowly falling from your mouth to his and vice versa.

He softly explores your tongue, wildly swiping and swirling his digit against your own, moaning every time your muscle pins down his movements, your greedy mouth forcing him into submission.

“Tastes so sweet Nanamin.” You mumble through pecks, staring at the wild locks of golden blonde hair sticking to his forehead. “Wanna just kiss you forever.”

Your hands tug at his shirt, easily pulling him down on top of you. His uncoordinated limbs fall so ridgid he knocks you fully back to the mattress, your legs opening wide enough to let him shift in front of you.

“Oh my god.” He gasps, eyes flying open to the new found position of him on top of you.

If he thought you were pretty before, what he sees in front of him just about makes him pass out.

The strap of your tanktop has fallen off your shoulder, your lips darkly shaded with lust, bottom lip fat ‘n throbbing. The eyes he constantly catches himself getting lost in appear completely different, pretty hues blown out and replaced with pitch hungry black pupils. Your chest pants hard, body warm and heaving from the continuous loss of breath to your lungs, and you look fucking perfect.

He’s mirroring you surely, from the tip of his ears to the belt loops of his pants, everything feels hot and tight, his blood flowing in places he believes it shouldn’t.

Not infront of you. Not yet at least.

“Why’d you stop?” Your raspy voice questions him, right hand finding his warm cheek, the other raking up the backside of his shirt, nails digging into his pale skin.

Groaning, Nanami nods eagerly, knocking his mouth back onto yours.

This time he’s far more confident, his head surging so fast his teeth clink against your own with a clack, your lips twisting into a sweet grin. You kiss him back, mouth moving just as feverishly as his, feeling his wet lips perfectly mold to your own.

It must be way warmer inside of your bedroom than outside by now, the walls thick with lust and mutual pinning the two of you can’t seem to hide any longer, the walls absorbing every sinful sound you make.

Your head falls deeper into the mattress, and Nanami can only follow, his body acting as if another second away from your own would practically kill him, he presses even deeper into you, laying his full body weight on top of you.

“—Kento!”

He’s shaking so hard he doesn't realize he's leaning his body weight particularly into his knee, the one currently placed between your thighs.

During the feverish moments of your bodies, your skirt has bunched up so far off your legs it sits at the base of your hips, pink panties soaked and wide open for Nanami’s greedy knee to press in to.

You clit catches on the tight scratchy material of his slacks, panties hitching tightly up your pussy lips, your gooey cunt endlessly pouring out sap which gives his kneecap a nice wet ‘smooch’ of your delicious slick, the smell of your sweet cunt making him dizzy.

Stuttering, Nanami feels himself growing unsteady, shaky yet reluctant as he begins to peel himself off your body. “I-I’m so sorry—“

“—Don’t be!” You defend, spreading your hips wider for him to get a better look at your sticky panties.

He swallows, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he does just that, he leans in closer, gawking at the pretty damp patch he created. His vision is blurry without his round glasses, forcing his face down justtt below your heaving belly, staring at your panties pushed up past your chubby lips, sticky essence coating your thighs.

Your voice rings in his ears, hips bucking towards his face. “Do the thing with your leg again, Please? ha—you’re a quick learner aren’t you Nanamin?”

sure, he could always just put the blame on you. young, horny and ovulating like a madwoman, it wasn’t his fault for cumming deep inside of your fertile womb, especially when you’re wrapping your legs around his hips like this. ankles pushing him so taught against your frame he can barley fuck you properly, keeping him nice and cozy wrapped around your cunt.

his hands were all over you, cracked palms rubbing down the soft ‘n supple skin on your moisturized thighs and stretching you as far into the mattress he possibly can, you’d turned the overly stoic, permanently grouchy man wild.

delirious even.

pussy walls warmly inviting him inside to overstay his welcome, he should have never agreed to fucking you raw tonight, because now that he’s felt around your bare gummy g-spot practically massaging his throbbing cock head, he knows he can’t bring himself to stop.

you can see that look on his face, the one of a man fighting with the angel and devil sat upon his heavy shoulders, furrowed brows partially covered by his leather eyepatch, crows feet sketching his face crinkling in defeat.

“d-don’t pull out,” you’re blurting out of pert lips, nails dragging down the milky flesh of his shoulder blades, reddening lines appearing in your trace, words slurring, “i’m so close, pull out ‘n you’ll ruin it for me!”

aizawa shakes his head, dark tendrils frizzing from the sheer amount of sopping heat surrounding the bedroom, words gravelly, “should’ve said something earlier. should have told you no, not tonight.”

he blinks down at you once, twice. black lashes doing little to shield him from just how pretty you’re looking smushed in the mattress, white sheets surrounding you like an innocent angel. how ironic.

“how is it that you always seem to get your way?” but that deprived devil stares him down in the shape of you, unable to rip himself from your cozy cunt, plap, plap, plaping! gushing walls expanding and carving a perfect curve to pour his seed into. he knows he’ll give you what you want, especially when your canal squeezes him into subtly obeying. “don’t know how to tell you no, seems like you’re too god damned spoiled, kid.”

“not spoiled! you’re taking c-care of me—shit! taking care of me like you s-should.” plump lips curling into a smile, chewing on it in attempts to hide yourself from gloating at the very man destroying your pussy, voice cooing, “getting soft on me now, aren’t you old man?”

turning into a panting mess beneath him, head tossing and turning once the boiling feeling of your impending orgasm rumbles beneath the surface, limbs woozy, mind jaded.

“you are a damn brat,” he’s scoffing, cheeks tinting pink at the dirty name. maybe he is older, in fact he definitely is, yet you are… “fucking spoiled. a spoiled little brat.”

“mmm whatever, you love it t-though!” now you’re giggling, fingers toying with the strands of hairs sticking to his sculpted back, pulling hard enough to make him hiss.

“yeah, yeah,” aizawa grumbles, knowing you’re the very reason he’s pulling the faint strands of silver hairs out from his hairline in the mirror, cock and heart secretly obsessing over the way you toy with him, “maybe i do.”

keeping him on his toes, you make him feel young again, a bright light in the darkness and destruction around him, all without any idea that you’re the one helping him pick up the pieces, staring at you with soaring adoration each time he thinks you’re not looking.

“fuckkk! right t-there!” you yelp, eyes rolling into the back of your skull once your climax tumbles down the twisting valley of your core to crumble at your g-spot. skittish limbs gripping him in place and shaking once his hips grind into yours, onyx thatch of hair on his pelvis smooching your sensitive clit. “please, please don’t stop!”

“wouldn’t dare,” aizawa’s sighing, pressing his lips into yours when he cums—finally inside. instantly plugging your pussy and witty mouth up with wet traces of him, tongue digging past your lips whilst his cock swabs at the tight knot of your cervix, seed drowning your walls full of him. and god does he hope it sticks.

by the look you’re giving him once he pulls away from swollen lips in an attempt to take a staggered breath? he knows you’re both thinking the same thing.