andi

the hum of the vibrator is the only sound in your room, a low, insistent buzz that seems to sync with the thudding of your pulse in your ears.

you truly had nothing on your mind as you circle your clit with your beloved vibrator- just the white noise of pleasure, the soft give of your mattress beneath you, the afternoon light filtering through your curtains in hazy, golden stripes across your bare thighs.

well. maybe not nothing.

your breath hitches as the image creeps in unbidden: gerard. always gerard. that specific someone with short brown locks, the way they fall in messy, artful disarray across his forehead, with that peekaboo section of blonde underneath the brown that only reveals itself when he pushes his hair back just so.

those hazel eyes that seem to look at you with nothing but adoration and care, even when you’re both exhausted at three in the morning, sharing a cold pizza on the couch. that pointed nose that wrinkles when he laughs, and those pink, puffy lips that seem so kissable, so biteable, always chapped and slightly parted when he’s concentrating on his sketchbook.

“fuck,” you whisper to the empty room, and your brows furrow, lips parting as your wetness grows, slick and embarrassing against your inner thighs.

your legs spread wider, shameless, desperate, and your shaking fingers grip your pillowcase so hard your knuckles ache. you press the vibrator down harder on your soaked slit, the sensation bordering on too much, not enough, perfect. your clit throbs in time with your heartbeat as a whine escapes your throat- high, needy, utterly unlike you.

your brain dives deeper into his details, unspooling like thread you can’t stop pulling. his thick, calloused fingers, ink stained and rough. the largeness of his hands, the way they dwarf his coffee mugs, the way they seem to linger whenever they touch or hold you- on your shoulder when you pass in the hallway, at the small of your back when he guides you through a crowded venue, brushing your knee when you sit too close on the sofa.

but then you think about it. him. on top of you.

the fantasy crystallizes, sharp and devastating: gerard kneeling between your spread thighs, sliding his cock between your folds, the heat and weight of him making you dizzy. he’s whining in your ear- yeah, he’d definitely be a whiner, all high pitched and broken, utterly undone- and lapping at your neck with a desperate, open mouth as he presses his cock down harder, grinding against you where you’re wettest.

“oh, god,” you moan aloud, the sound swallowed by your bedroom walls, and you press the vibrator down more, circling faster, chasing the heat that’s building in your stomach.

you curse under your breath, hips stuttering upward, so close now, warmth spreading through your body in waves that make your toes curl. but then you think of his voice- that oddly specific way his tone lilts, raspy and warm, like honey over gravel. how he would probably encourage you, breathless and filthy, how deep and wrecked it would sound as he licks the shell of your ear, his body pinning yours to the mattress:

“c’mon, honey,” he purrs in your imagination, and your jaw drops, a strangled sound catching in your throat. “make a mess all over my cock, yeah? be a good girl f’me.”

“shit- fuck-” you gasp, frantically bucking your hips as you feel it happening, the coil snapping, pleasure cresting sharp and blinding at the edge of your vision.

but of course.

of fucking course.

your heart drops to your stomach when the door to your room bursts open with a familiar, violent swing, hinges squealing in protest. gerard comes barreling in, rambling before he’s even fully crossed the threshold, his voice carrying that manic, excited energy he gets after events.

“y/n, you will not believe what went down at the signing today- this fan brought this incredible original artwork of the black parade album cover and i just had to tell you about-”

he stops.

the silence that crashes down is suffocating, absolute.

before you can even react, before you can throw the blanket over yourself or die on the spot or somehow teleport to another dimension, you hear it- his sharp, audible gasp as he takes in the sight of you- legs spread, vibrator still pressed against your swollen, glistening clit, cheeks flushed crimson, chest heaving.

“oh my god,” gerard chokes out, his voice cracking, his eyes blown wide and impossibly dark.

“fucking- shit-” you curse, ripping the toy away from yourself so fast it nearly tumbles from your numb fingers, your body curling in on itself with a mortified groan that sounds more like a wounded animal than anything human.

“oh my god- fuck, i’m sorry, i’m so fuckin’ sorry-” gerard’s voice cracks, pitch shooting up an octave as he whips around so fast he nearly smacks face first into your wall, his hands flying up to cover his eyes like he’s trying to erase the image burned into his retinas. he stumbles, shoulder clipping the doorframe with a dull thud, muttering a string of curses under his breath.

you want to die.

you want the floorboards to splinter open and swallow you whole, want to dissolve into the mattress and never exist again.

through the haze of mortification, you catch the sight of him in your peripheral- cheeks flushed a violent, feverish red even from behind, shoulders shaking with barely contained... something. embarrassment? disgust? you can’t tell, and the not knowing makes your chest ache with a sharp, piercing shame.

“why-” your voice comes out wrecked, hoarse, and you have to stop to clear your throat, hugging your knees to your chest to hide your nakedness. “why the fuck didn’t you knock?”

gerard’s spine goes rigid, his hands still clamped over his face as he presses his forehead against the wall, his voice climbing even higher, strained and defensive, “you- you told me i never have t’knock! last week! you said, and i quote, ‘gerard, we’re best friends, you never have to knock, just come in,’ end quote, i have that shit memorized-”

you groan, dropping your head against your knees, the memory flooding back with perfect, horrible clarity. you had said that. you’d been half asleep, cuddled under a blanket while he brought you soup during your last period, and you’d mumbled something about him being family, about doors being stupid. “fuck,” you whisper. “fuck, i did say that.”

you force yourself to sit up, your thighs trembling violently, muscles twitching from the abrupt interruption. your clit throbs in angry, insistent pulses- painfully swollen, unsatisfied, that sharp edge of orgasm having drifted away like smoke, leaving behind only a dull, heavy ache between your legs and a wetness that feels more humiliating than arousing now. the loss of it makes your eyes sting.

gerard still hasn’t moved, still facing the wall like it’s giving him life saving instructions, his fingers splayed over his eyes. “are you- can i- is it safe? are you... covered?”

you reach down with clumsy, fumbling hands and snatch your underwear from where you’d kicked it off earlier, sliding the fabric up your legs with trembling fingers. the cotton sticks to your damp skin, uncomfortable and intimate in a way that makes your face burn hotter.

your eyes land on the vibrator lying on your bedspread- pink, glistening, still slick with your arousal- and you cringe so hard your spine hurts. you grab it, fumbling for the button with slick fingers until the buzzing dies with a pathetic whir.

“you can look now,” you mumble, your voice small, mortifyingly tear choked already.

gerard turns slowly, cautiously, like he’s expecting a trap. his hands drop to his sides, fingers flexing nervously. his eyes are wide, pupils blown, that flush still high on his cheekbones and spreading down his neck. “y/n, i am so- i didn’t mean to- i wasn’t thinking, i jus’ got excited about the art and i-”

you don’t let him finish. you can’t stand there naked under his gaze for another second, can’t handle the way his eyes keep darting to your bed, to you, then away, like he’s terrified of what he saw but can’t stop seeing it.

you waddle past him- waddle, because your legs won’t work properly, because you’re still swollen and wet and wrong- and escape into your bathroom, slamming the door not quite shut behind you.

the mirror shows you a disaster: hair tangled and wild, lips bitten red and swollen, eyes red rimmed and watery, cheeks flushed a feverish crimson that screams i was just about to come thinking about my best friend. you bite your lip hard, trying to stifle the sob building in your throat, but it escapes as a wet, pathetic hiccup.

you turn on the faucet with shaking hands and grab the vibrator, scrubbing it under the hot water with more force than necessary, watching the soap bubbles turn iridescent before swirling down the drain. you wash your hands next, scrubbing until your skin feels raw, but you can’t wash away the shame. it sits heavy in your stomach, oily and black- he saw you, he knows now, you’re disgusting, how could you think about him like that?

you’re so lost in your spiral of self loathing that you don’t hear him approach. you don’t hear anything until you feel it- warmth at your back, the shift of air, and then his thick, warm hands sliding under the hem of your baggy t-shirt, spreading wide against your bare stomach.

you gasp, your spine arching instinctively into the touch, your body betraying you immediately, responding to him even now. his palms are hot, slightly damp, calloused in all the places you imagined earlier, and they span your waist completely, thumbs brushing the underside of your ribs.

“honey,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough against your ear, his chest pressing flush against your back, his chin hooking over your shoulder. you can feel his breath, warm and shaky, against your neck. “please don’t be embarrassed.”

you shiver, your hands still under the running water, forgotten. “gerard-”

“don’t,” he says softly, his arms wrapping tighter around your waist, pulling you back into the solid heat of him. he’s so warm, so there, surrounding you completely. “don’t apologize. don’t you dare apologize.”

“but i-” your voice breaks, tears spilling over, hot and humiliating. “i looked so- i was so-” you gesture vaguely at your reflection, at the wreck of yourself. “gross. i looked gross, and you had to see that, and i’m so sorry, i know you didn’t want to-”

“hey,” he interrupts, turning you gently in his arms until you’re facing him, trapped between his body and the sink. his eyes are soft now, tender in a way that makes your chest ache differently. he reaches up with one hand, thumbing away a tear with a gentle swipe. “first of all? you didn’t look gross. you looked-” he stops, swallows hard, his throat bobbing. “you looked beautiful. you always look beautiful.”

“stop,” you whisper, but he’s already leaning in, pressing a kiss to your wet cheek, then the other, his lips soft and reverent.

“second,” he continues, his voice taking on that teasing lilt you know so well, the one that means he’s about to make a joke to diffuse the tension, “i’ve walked in on way worse. mikey once. sock on the doorknob is apparently optional in the way household. this was...” he pauses, his eyes darting to the side, a fresh wave of color darkening his cheeks. “this was just... unexpected. surprising. not... unwelcome, necessarily, just- surprising.”

you sniffle, your damp hands finding his forest green shirt, gripping the fabric to stay upright. “you’re just saying that.”

“i’m absolutely not.” he kisses your cheek again, then the corner of your mouth, so close you can taste his breath- coffee and mint. “i’m saying you’re gorgeous, and you’re allowed t’touch yourself, and i’m a fuckin’ idiot who doesn’t knock, and we both know whose fault this really is.”

you try to laugh, but it comes out watery. you turn back to the sink on shaky legs, reaching for a towel to dry your hands, but you freeze when you catch his expression in the mirror- his eyes fixed not on you, but on the counter, where you’d set the vibrator down to dry.

your face heats, nuclear level embarrassment scorching through you. “don’t- don’t look at it.”

he doesn’t look away. if anything, his gaze grows more intense, his pupils blown wide and dark. “it’s...” he clears his throat, shifting his weight, and you feel it then- the hard, unmistakable line of him pressing against your lower back, straining against his jeans. he doesn’t try to hide it. “it’s cute,” he says, voice dropping an octave, rough and deliberate. “pink. matches your... aesthetic.”

“shut up,” you groan, burying your face in the towel, but he’s laughing now, that warm, raspy sound that vibrates through his chest into your back.

“i’m serious! it’s very... you. practical but pretty. efficient but-”

“if you say buzzworthy, i will actually kill you.”

he grins against your shoulder, his arms tightening around you, pulling you impossibly closer. “wouldn’t dream of it.”

you sigh, the tension bleeding out of your shoulders in a slow wave, replaced by something heavier, warmer, thrumming between you like a live wire. you waddle out of the bathroom- there’s no other word for it, your body still aching, still unsatisfied, thighs sticky and movements clumsy- and crawl back onto your bed.

you grab the vibrator, shoving it into your nightstand drawer with more force than necessary, then bury yourself under your covers, pulling them over your head like a child. you expect him to leave. to awkwardly pat your shoulder and flee to his own room to process what he saw, what he witnessed pressed against you.

instead, the mattress dips. the covers lift. and gerard slides in behind you, his body slotting against yours like he belongs there, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you flush against his chest.

“gerard-”

“shh,” he hums against the back of your neck, the sound vibrating through your spine. he adjusts, pressing closer, and you feel it again- that thick, hard ridge of his cock, obvious and unapologetic, nestled against the curve of your ass. he still doesn’t try to hide it. he presses in, grinding just slightly, deliberately, until you arch back into him with a shaky, involuntary whimper.

“that’s it,” he murmurs, his hand spreading wide over your stomach, pulling you tighter into the cradle of his hips. his voice is wrecked, nothing like the teasing tone from before- this is raw, desperate, honest. “jus’ lemme hold you. let me- fuck, you feel s’good.”

you should push him away. you should talk about this, should process what just happened, should apologize again or analyze or something.

instead, you press back harder, feeling the way he groans against your shoulder, the way his fingers dig into your hip, the way his cock throbs against you even through layers of denim and cotton. your clit gives a sharp, interested throb, your body remembering exactly what it wanted, exactly who it wanted, and now he’s here, warm and hard and whispering your name like a prayer into your hair.

“gee,” you breathe, and it’s not a question, not a protest. it’s an invitation.

his hand slides lower, resting just above the waistband of your underwear, his pinky finger tracing the elastic. “tell me to stop,” he whispers, his voice shaking. “tell me t’stop and i will. i’ll go t’my room and we’ll pretend this never happened and i’ll never mention the pink vibrator again.”

you reach down and cover his hand with yours, pressing his palm flat against your stomach, guiding him lower. “don’t you dare,” you whisper back.

he groans, loud and broken, and his hips jerk forward, grinding his hardness against you in a slow, deliberate roll that makes your vision spark white at the edges. “fuck, honey- you’re gonna kill me.”

“good,” you murmur, arching into him, feeling his arms band tighter around you, his breath coming in ragged gasps against your neck. “serves you right for not knocking.”

he laughs, breathless and delirious, and bites your shoulder gently, his hand finally slipping lower. “i’ll buy you a lock. first thing tomorrow. biggest lock they sell.”

“shut up and touch me,” you whisper, and his fingers don’t slide home gently- they claim, pressing flat and firm against your soaked slit, spreading your wetness in messy, deliberate strokes that make your hips jerk involuntarily. he groans against your neck, the sound vibrating through your spine as he finds your clit, still swollen and throbbing from before, and circles it with the pad of his middle finger- slow, torturous, maddening circles that have you whining high in your throat.

“so wet,” he breathes, reverent and wrecked, his voice barely recognizable. “fuck, look at you. look how wet you are, sweetheart. is this all for me? did i do this?”

you can’t answer. you’re arching back into him, grinding shamelessly against the hard ridge of his cock still trapped in his jeans, feeling the heat and pressure of him even through the denim. he rocks against you in time with his fingers, a filthy, rhythmic grind that has you seeing stars, his hips rolling in deep, deliberate thrusts that simulate exactly what he wants to be doing.

“fuckin’ answer me,” he demands, but his voice cracks on the last syllable, desperate and pleading, that submissive edge bleeding through even as he commands you. he bites your neck- not hard, but possessive, sucking the skin into his mouth and lapping at it with his tongue, hot and wet and obscene. “tell me. tell me this is mine.”

“yours,” you gasp, your hand flying back to grip his hair, pulling him harder against your throat. “gee, please-”

“please what?” he kisses up the column of your neck, open mouthed and messy, his breath hot and ragged against your ear. his finger speeds up on your clit, circling faster, pressing harder, while his other hand slides down to grip your hip, pulling you back against his thrusting cock with bruising force. “please make you come? please fuck you? please worship you? ‘cause i’ll do all that shit. i’ll do fuckin’ anything, just- jus’ lemme hear you, feel you-”

he pushes two fingers inside you without warning, thick and calloused and perfect, curling them immediately to find that spot that makes your vision blur. you cry out, loud and broken, your hole clamping down around the intrusion, and he groans like he’s the one being touched, his hips stuttering against you.

“that’s it,” he encourages, his voice dropping to that rough tone that you fantasized about earlier, but now it’s real, now it’s here, vibrating against your skin. “that’s my girl. takin’ my fingers so well, fuck- you’re jus’ soakin’ huh? can feel you squeezin’ me-” he scissors his fingers, stretching you, his thumb circling your clit in tight, merciless figure eights. “y’feel incredible- doin’ so good, honey, so fuckin’ good f’me-”

he’s panting now, wrecked, his dominance slipping into something more desperate, more needy. he presses his forehead against your shoulder, his movements becoming jerky, uncontrolled, as he grinds his cock against your ass with increasing urgency. “can feel how close you are,” he whispers, almost to himself, almost worshipping.

he crooks his fingers again, pressing deep, and your orgasm crests suddenly, violently, building in waves that have your toes curling, your back arching so hard it hurts. you’re right there, whimpering his name like a prayer-

and then his fingers are gone.

you cry out at the loss, the sound torn from your throat, raw and devastated. “what the fuck-”

“shh, i’ve got you,” he murmurs, but his voice is different now- lower, darker, more controlled. before you can process the emptiness, before you can mourn the loss of his touch, he’s flipping you onto your back with a strength that surprises you, the movement swift and deliberate.

you stare up at him, dazed and trembling, your body aching, throbbing, empty. but he’s already there, already settling between your spread thighs, his hair falling into his face, his eyes black with arousal, his lips swollen and bitten red.

“don’t worry,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss your jaw, your cheek, the corner of your mouth. “m’not leavin’ you. never gonna leave you like this.” he reaches over, yanking open your nightstand drawer with a rough, impatient movement, and retrieves the pink vibrator.

your face floods with heat, embarrassment and arousal warring violently as he holds it up, examining it with dark, hungry eyes. “jesus christ,” you manage, your voice hoarse, your thighs parting wider of their own accord, traitorous and desperate.

he smirks. it’s a filthy expression, all teeth and dark promise, so different from the flustered, apologetic man who stumbled into your room. “y’looked so pretty,” he says, his voice dropping to a register that makes your stomach flip. “when i walked in. legs spread, touchin’ yourself, all flushed n’wet-”

he leans down, his mouth hovering over yours, his breath mingling with yours. “prettiest fuckin’ thing i’ve ever seen. wanted t’drop to my knees right then. wanted to taste you.” he turns the vibrator on. the buzz fills the silence, low and insistent, and your hips buck upward involuntarily, seeking, needing.

he holds it just above your clit, so close you can feel the vibrations in the air, teasing, torturing. his eyes lock with yours, dark and endless. “wanna watch you come with this,” he whispers.

“wait,” you gasp, your hand shooting out to grip his wrist, stopping him just as he’s about to press the vibrator against your throbbing, aching clit.

he freezes, his brow furrowing, concern flickering through the haze of arousal. “what? what’s wrong? did i-”

“not just me,” you breathe, your voice shaking but certain, your eyes meeting his with a challenge that makes his breath hitch. “i want you t’feel it too- feel it with me.”

he stares at you, processing, his pupils blown wide, his chest heaving. then, slowly, a devastating smile spreads across his face- worshipful, desperate, completely yours.

“shit,” he breathes, his voice breaking. “fuck- okay. i can do that. whatever you want, honey- anything you want-” he obliges.

“baby,” you whimper, the word tasting like saccharine sin on your tongue, your fingers already tangling in his hair and pulling- hard, desperate, demanding. “please, i need-”

gerard doesn’t let you finish. he tears your baggy shirt off with a violence that surprises you both, the fabric ripping slightly, and you gasp at the sudden exposure, at the cool air hitting your heated skin.

but he’s already there, already kissing down your heaving chest, his mouth hot and open and worshipful, tracing the valley between your breasts with his tongue, lapping at your necklace he gifted you, your sternum, your ribs, every inch of skin he can reach.

“so beautiful,” he breathes against your sternum, his voice muffled, reverent, wrecked. “look at you, honey. so fuckin’ perfect.” he nips at the underside of your breast, not hard enough to hurt, just enough to make you arch, your back bowing off the mattress. “these pretty tits. been thinkin’ about ‘em. been thinkin’ about you. every fuckin’ day, y’know that?”

you tug his hair harder, pulling his head back until his hazel eyes meet yours- pupils blown to hell, his lips swollen and wet. “less talking,” you manage, your voice a pathetic whine that contradicts your commanding grip. “more touching, baby. c’mon-”

he smirks against your skin, that filthy, devastating expression that makes your stomach flip. “bossy,” he accuses, but there’s no heat in it, only adoration, only desperate, hungry submission. he nips at your collarbone, then soothes it with his tongue, traveling up to your neck and lapping at the pulse point, sucking hard enough to leave marks. “so bossy. think you’re in charge, honey? think you get to tell me what to do?”

“yes,” you gasp, even as your thighs spread wider, even as your body betrays you, arching into him, seeking his heat, his weight, his control.

he laughs, low and dark, the sound vibrating against your throat. “cute,” he murmurs, and then he’s traveling down, his mouth tracing a hot, wet path down your stomach, his tongue dipping into your navel, his hands gripping your hips with bruising force. he settles between your thighs, his face hovering just above where you’re soaked and aching, still covered by your underwear.

“gee-” you whine, your hips bucking upward, seeking friction, seeking him. he doesn’t rush. he presses a soft, open mouthed kiss to your mound through the cotton, his tongue pressing flat, hot even through the fabric, and you mewl, high and pathetic, your hands flying to his hair again.

he groans against you, the vibration making you see stars, and then his hips buck into the mattress- once, twice, desperate, seeking friction for himself, his own arousal making him clumsy, making him weak.

“please,” you beg, your voice cracking, your pride evaporating. “please, baby, hurry up, i need you inside, i need-”

he tuts, the sound muffled against your underwear, and then he bites- gently, so gently it’s torture- right at your clit through the damp fabric. you jolt, a sharp cry tearing from your throat, your spine arching violently. he pulls back just enough to smirk up at you, his chin wet with your arousal even through the cotton, his eyes dancing with dark mischief.

“patience, sweetheart,” he coos, but his own voice is shaking, breaking, that submissive whine creeping back in even as he commands you. “wanna take my time.. you’ve been teasin’ me for years, honey. years. y’gonna make me rush now?”

you groan, throwing your arm over your eyes, your body trembling with denied pleasure. “you’re evil,” you accuse, but you’re smiling, delirious, drunk on him.

he laughs again, that warm, raspy sound, and then he’s moving, sitting back on his heels, his hands going to his own shirt. he pulls it off in one smooth motion, and your breath catches- actually catches in your throat- because fuck, he’s beautiful.

his skin is so soft, slightly pudgy in the most perfect way, pale and unmarked and pretty, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths, his nipples peaked and pink. he’s soft and hard at the same time, all contradictions, all gerard, and your clit throbs painfully at the sight, your thighs falling open wider, inviting, begging.

he notices you looking, notices the way your eyes track down to where his cock strains against his briefs, the outline thick and heavy and obscene. his own face flushes deeper, crimson spreading down his neck, his chest, and he hooks his thumbs in the waistband.

“want this?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper, submissive and hopeful even as he maintains eye contact, even as he controls the pace.

“yes,” you breathe. “please, baby. show me. let me see you.”

he pulls them down, slow and deliberate, and his cock springs free- slaps against his soft tummy, against his dark pubic hair, heavy and flushed and glistening. the tip is crimson, angry looking, precome dribbling in a steady stream that makes your mouth water, your hole clenches around nothing.

he’s thick, beautifully thick, with a vein running along the underside that you want to trace with your tongue, and he groans as the cool air hits him, his hips jerking forward involuntarily.

“fuck,” he whispers, his hand going to himself, stroking once, twice, his eyes fluttering shut. “look what you do t’me. y’see how hard i am for you, honey? only you. always you.”

you whine, your thighs falling apart completely, your body open and exposed and his. he looks at you- really looks at you, his eyes roaming over your spread legs, your heaving chest, your flushed face- and he smiles. it’s soft and devastating and full of something terrifying, something that looks like love, like forever.

he leans down, his body covering yours, his skin hot against your skin, and he kisses you.

it’s your first kiss, real and true and everything, and it’s perfect- messy and desperate and heated immediately, his tongue sliding into your mouth. you moan into it, your hands coming up to grip his shoulders, his back, pulling him closer, trying to drag him down, trying to get him inside you, on top of you, everywhere-

but before you can drag him down more, before you can align his cock with your entrance and sink down on him, he lifts up.

you whine, the sound high and broken, your hips chasing his, your fingers digging into his arms. “gee- baby-”

he just coos at you, the sound soft and patronizing and impossibly tender, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing over your swollen lips. “shh, shh, i know. i know, honey. want me inside? want me t’fill you up?”

“yes,” you sob, nodding frantically. “yes, please, i need you-”

“gonna get there,” he promises, his voice dropping to that lower register that makes your toes curl. “but first-” he travels down your body again, his mouth leaving hot, open mouthed kisses down your stomach, your hip, the inside of your thigh. he hooks his fingers in your soaked panties and pulls them down, slow and torturous, his eyes locked on your cunt the entire time.

when they’re off, when you’re completely bare and exposed and dripping for him, he groans- long and low and guttural, the sound vibrating through your core. “fuck,” he breathes, his eyes dark, his face flushed, his cock twitching against his stomach. “look at you. so fuckin’ soaked. drippin’. all f’me, s’that right?”

he reaches over to the nightstand, his hand closing around the pink vibrator, and he holds it up, examining it with dark, hungry eyes before looking back at you- at your spread thighs, your throbbing, glistening clit, your desperate, open folds.

he positions it just above your soaked slit, his thumb hovering over the button, his eyes meeting yours with a question and a command and a promise.

“ready, honey?” he whispers, and you know he’s asking about more than just the toy- he’s asking about everything, about this, about you, about him.

you nod, your throat too tight to speak, your body trembling, your heart hammering against your ribs. he smiles- devastating, perfect, and presses the button.

the buzz fills the room, low and insistent, as gerard finally presses the vibrating silicone against you. the sensation is immediate, overwhelming, a sharp spark of pleasure that has your back arching violently off the mattress, your mouth falling open in a silent scream.

“that’s it,” he breathes, his voice wrecked, his eyes locked on your face with an intensity that makes you want to hide and bare yourself simultaneously. “look at you, honey. takin’ it so well for me.”

he’s encouraging you, praising you, his free hand gripping your hip with bruising force while his cock- thick and heavy and impossibly hard- ruts against your inner thigh, smearing precome in messy, desperate strokes. he’s in a trance, you can tell, lost in the sight of you, in the vibration.

“baby,” you whimper, your hands finding his shoulders, his chest, anywhere you can touch. “come here. please- need you on top. need t’feel you-”

he blinks, like he’s surfacing from deep water, his face flushing an even deeper crimson, spreading down his neck, his chest. “you- are you sure? honey, i don’t wanna-”

you don’t let him finish. you grip his biceps and drag him down, your strength surprising you both, and his eyes widen- huge and blown- as he collapses forward, catching himself on one elbow just before he crushes you.

his tip, flushed and angry and dripping, comes into contact with the vibrator where it’s still pressed hard against your clit, the silicone sandwiched between his cock and your most sensitive bundle of nerves.

the sound he makes is devastating- a high, broken whine that turns into a full throated moan, his hips jerking forward involuntarily, his whole body shuddering. “oh- oh fuck-” he gasps, his brows furrowing, his jaw slacking, his face already so fucked out, so gone.

you smirk up at him, delirious with power even as you’re trembling beneath him. “now you know how i feel,” you tease, your voice hoarse, your hips bucking up to grind against him.

he laughs- breathless, delirious, desperate- and then he’s crawling over you properly, settling his weight between your thighs, his hand gripping the vibrator harder and pressing it down against you with renewed force. you moan, loud and broken, your arms circling his neck and pulling him down, anchoring yourself to him as he begins kissing along your jaw, your neck, open mouthed and messy.

“so good,” he whimpers against your throat, his cock rocking against the vibrator, against you, the friction making him shake. “so fuckin’ good, honey. you feel- god- the vibration, i can feel it through you, it’s-” he breaks off with another whine, his hips stuttering, losing that careful dominance he’d been maintaining, falling into something more desperate, more needy.

the sight is dizzying- gerard above you, hair falling into his flushed face, eyes squeezed shut, mouth open, rutting against the toy like he’s lost his mind, like he’s never felt anything better. both of you are feeling it, the vibration traveling through your clit into his cock, a shared circuit of pleasure that has you both panting, both trembling.

“pretty,” he praises, dragging his mouth back to yours, biting your lower lip before soothing it with his tongue. “so pretty. y’look so pretty like this. my pretty girl.”

“you’re pretty too,” you manage, tugging his hair hard enough to make him gasp, his eyes flying open to meet yours. “look at you, baby. look how fucked out you are. so pretty for me.”

he whimpers- actually whimpers- and buries his face in your neck, his body shuddering violently. “wanna-” he slurs, his hand moving from the vibrator to his own cock, gripping himself and positioning the vibrator so it’s pressed between his shaft and your clit, the pressure intensifying, the sensation doubling. “like this? is this- tell me what t’do, honey. tell me-”

“yes,” you gasp, your hips bucking up to meet his rutting movements, the friction perfect, devastating. “just like that- keep going. you’re doing so good, gee. so, so good-”

he’s rutting against you now, against the vibrator, his cock sliding through your folds, the tip catching on your entrance with every thrust but not pushing in, just teasing, torturing, while the vibration hums between you. he’s so cute like this- cheeks flushed and whining and completely lost, his walls crumbling even as he tries to maintain control, tries to make you feel good.

he drags his mouth back to yours, his jaw slack, his eyes rolling back slightly. “fuckin’ christ,” he curses, his voice barely recognizable. “never- fuck- never felt anything like this. you’re perfect- gonna- shit, m’gonna-”

you tug his hair harder, pulling him closer, feeling your own orgasm building sharp and fast, your clit pulsating against the vibrator, your hole clenching around nothing, desperate to be filled. “close,” you warn him, your voice breaking. “gee, m’so close-”

“yeah?” he opens his eyes, meets yours, and there’s that look again, flashing through the desperation. “y’gonna come? gonna make a mess?” he presses the vibrator harder, rocks his hips faster, his cock sliding through your wetness, the vibration traveling into him, making him groan. “come on, sweetheart- wanna feel you-”

you break.

the orgasm crashes through you violently, your back arching, your mouth falling open in a silent scream that turns into his name, over and over, your body convulsing, your thighs clamping around his hips.

he feels it- feels you come apart beneath him- and with one more desperate, rutting thrust against the vibrator, he’s coming too, spilling hot and thick across your stomach, your thighs, his whole body shuddering, his moans high and broken.

you rock through it together, wave after wave, his mouth finding your jaw, your neck, soothing kisses pressed to overheated skin as you whimper and tremble beneath him. when you’re reduced to pathetic, shaky whines, he finally removes the vibrator, turning it off with fumbling fingers and tossing it aside.

he collapses back down, his weight settling over you, his face buried in your neck, his breathing ragged and warm against your skin. for a moment, you just breathe together, tangled and messy and perfect.

then- just as you imagined earlier, just as you fantasized- his cock, still half hard and sensitive, starts sliding through your slit, the tip dragging through your folds, seeking, wanting.

you moan, your arms tightening around his neck, your nails digging into his back. “gerard,” you whisper, desperate, clinging to him like you’ll die if he moves away. “please. fuck me. now.”

he lifts his head, his eyes meeting yours- dark, endless, full of promise. and he doesn’t make you ask twice.

with a strength that surprises you both, he grips your hips, positioning you, spreading you wider, his eyes locked on where you’re dripping and open and ready for him. he lines himself up, his tip kissing your entrance, and the contact alone makes you both gasp- him with his head thrown back, throat exposed and vulnerable, you with your nails raking down his chest, leaving red marks in their wake.

“look at me,” he hums, but his voice breaks on the last syllable, submissive and desperate even as he takes control. “don’t look away, honey. wanna see your face when i fuck you, hmm?”

he pushes in.

it’s slow, torturous, deliberate. he fills you inch by inch, his thickness stretching you, burning so perfectly you see stars. your mouth falls open, your back arching as he bottoms out, his hips flush against yours, his cock buried to the hilt inside your tight heat. he groans, long and guttural, his forehead dropping to yours, his breath ragged and warm against your lips.

“fuck,” he whispers, his voice shaking. “y’feel so fuckin’ good around me, honey. so perfect. made jus’ for me.”

he starts moving- slow, deep thrusts that drag his cock against your walls, his tip kissing that perfect spot inside you with every upward stroke. it’s maddening, devastating, and he knows it. he sets a rhythm that’s just enough to keep you teetering on the edge, filling you completely before pulling back until just his tip remains, making you whimper and arch, before slamming back in.

“more,” you beg, your voice pathetic, your hips trying to meet his thrusts. “please, gee, harder-”

he slows down. deliberately. pulling out so slowly you feel every vein, every ridge, every pulse of his heartbeat, before pushing back in with agonizing precision. he coos at you, mocking and sweet, his thumb brushing your cheek with tender cruelty.

“what’s that?” he breathes, his hips rolling in deep, lazy circles that make your vision blur. “want more, honey? want me t’fuck you properly? gotta beg better than that. gotta mean it.”

“do it- now-” you choke out, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling hard.

he hisses, his hips stuttering, losing control for just a second before he regains it, that smirk playing at his lips even as his eyes are blown wide, desperate, down bad for you. “such a brat,” he murmurs, leaning down to bite your neck, sucking hard, marking you. “my pretty little brat. gonna fuckin’ take what i give you. gonna take it and say thank you, yeah?”

he worships you even as he teases- his mouth traveling down to capture your nipple, laving it with his tongue, his free hand sliding between your bodies to circle your clit in time with his thrusts. but he keeps the pace slow, maddening, dragging his cock through your heat until you’re sobbing, until your walls are fluttering around him, until you’re begging in earnest.

“please, oh god,” you whimper, tears pricking your eyes from the overwhelming need. “fuck me harder. need you. need y’so bad-”

his control snaps.

with a growl that’s more animal than human, he hooks his arms under your knees, pushing your legs back, opening you completely, and slams into you. the sound of skin on skin fills the room, wet and filthy. he fucks you in earnest now, hard and deep, his hips pistoning, his cock hitting that spot with every thrust, making you see white, making you scream his name.

“that’s it,” he pants, his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, his eyes locked on yours with terrifying intensity. “take my cock. so good f’me, honey. so fuckin’ good-”

he’s losing himself, you can tell- his dominant mask slipping to reveal the desperate, whining mess beneath, his thrusts becoming erratic, his moans high and broken. but he keeps his pace punishing, relentless, dragging you toward the edge with every stroke.

you feel it building, sharp and electric, your orgasm coiling tight in your belly. but you want more. you want him.

with a burst of strength, you grip his shoulders and flip him.

he goes with a surprised yelp, his eyes widening as he lands on his back, his cock still buried deep inside you. you waste no time- you settle over him, your hands pressing into his chest, and you start to ride.

your hips circle and roll, back and forth, finding a rhythm that’s all yours, grinding down on him so his cock drags against your walls, hitting that spot with devastating precision. you set a brutal pace, fucking yourself on him, using him, and the shift in power is immediate, electric.

under you, gerard is wrecked.

his hands fly to your hips, gripping tight, his knuckles white, but he doesn’t try to take control- he lets you use him, his eyes rolling back, his mouth open in a silent scream. tears are streaming down his temples, genuine, overwhelmed tears, his face flushed and fucked out and utterly in love.

“love you,” he babbles, his voice cracking, broken. “love you so fuckin’ much. so much. please- honey- please don't stop-”

you coo down at him, leaning forward to capture his lips in a messy kiss, your hips never stopping their relentless pace. “love you too, baby,” you breathe against his mouth. “so pretty like this under me. taking it. my good boy.”

you sit up, your hands finding his throat- not hard, just enough pressure to make his eyes widen, his hips buck up into you involuntarily. you spit in his mouth, watching it dribble down his chin, and he moans like you’ve given him a gift, his cock throbbing inside you.

“touch yourself,” you command, your voice dropping to that dominant register. “wanna see you make a mess- feel you come inside.”

he obeys immediately, his hand flying to his cock where it meets your body, stroking the base, feeling where you’re connected. the added sensation makes you both cry out, your movements becoming jerky, desperate.

“close,” you warn, your clit throbbing, your walls clamping down on him. “gee, i’m so close-”

“come with me,” he begs, his free hand gripping your hip, his hips rising to meet your downward thrusts. “please, honey. come with me-”

your orgasm crashes through you violently, your back arching, your walls spasming around his cock in rhythmic waves that milk him, pull him over the edge with you. he cries out- loud and broken- and then he’s coming too, emptying his load deep inside you, hot and thick and endless, filling you, marking you, claiming you.

you rock him through it, your hips slowing to gentle rolls, your hands stroking his chest, his face, his hair. he’s babbling beneath you- incoherent, delirious, tears still streaming down his face as he spills every drop inside your tight heat.

“i love you,” he whispers, over and over, his voice raw. “i really fuckin’ do, y/n.”

Everything was happening much too fast.

The man whom you’ve been diligently serving for the past few years was requesting your consent to touch you intimately so suddenly that you felt as though you were dreaming.

It’s not like you haven’t imagined it before—hell, look at him! Everyone in the Fire Nation has indulged in a fantasy or two, it’d be strange if they didn’t. Especially if they were in your shoes, being so close to him at nearly every waking hour and getting to know him on levels beyond regolness.

So when his lordship humbly requested that you sit yourself on his throne and let him give you a nice feel of what your purpose is to him, it was only natural that you succumbed to the years of not-so-hidden need that has been weighing itself on your shoulders.

Heart pounding in your chest, none of your imaginations of the past could ever quite compare to the real thing of watching the fire lord lower himself down to his knees, bring his hands to your legs, and steadily part them open whilst constantly whispering gentle confessions in hopes of insuring you're entirely comfortable with this.

Truth be told, he'd always had a bit of a crush on you—having taken quite the liking to you from the day he'd chose you to be his royal advisor.

It was an odd sensation for you to find yourself seated where Zuko typically commands the nation, especially with the way he'd loomed before you with a hint of delectable saliva building up at the corners of his mouth. You barely caught on to the way he'd asked you to undress yourself before him—to bare your body for his greedy eyes to take in—before his hands were virtually everywhere.

There was a sense of heat felt from his faintly shaking palms, as if this were the most nerve-wracking act he'd ever participated in. You were steady in your undressing, considering you needed some sort of moment to prepare yourself for what was to come.

By the time you found yourself naked—regal, advisory robes splayed out against his throne as your body sat all prettily perched upon it—Zuko was all but drooling. You'd seen his lordship make many expressions over the years but this—this was unlike anything you'd ever seen before.

And it was all for you.

In the next instance, Zuko was gripping onto your knees, letting his fingers touch with a certain firmness as he spread your legs apart. Your limbs felt mushy under his skin and you already felt your lungs struggling to maintain a steady flow of oxygen. You had an arm coming up to hide your flushing face before he'd even gotten anywhere with you and he couldn't help but crack a cheeky smile at the display.

Who knew his dutiful advisor—who'd just threatened to leave him mere moments ago, mind you—could make such cute expressions from the slightest of touches?

"Relax," Zuko cooed gently, leaning forward to lightly kiss at your inner thigh, "I'm only trying to help you understand your purpose."

Breath hitching, "My lord, I really don't think-"

His tongue rolls out along the inside of your leg and you flinch as if you'd never been touched before. This was the Fire Lord, after all. Having him like this-, watching him do something so obscene...

"You don't need to think," He hushes out to you, the curve in his lips felt right against your tensed skin, "Not now, anyway. Just feel. Can you do that for me?" It took you a few seconds but, eventually, you nodded your head. To which he cracks a smile, "Atta' girl."

Then his head traveled further up and you held eye contact with him whilst his mouth slipped over to cup the soaking lips of your cunt. Those same fiery amber-shaded eyes of his roll back almost instantaneously, a rumbling groan pouring out from deep within the pit of his stomach in reaction to the taste of you on his tongue.

And you expected him to let this go? As if.

You clasped your lip tightly in between your teeth, your hands moving out to grip onto the arms of the throne as you braced yourself, hips jerking forwards ever so slightly to meet the feel of Zuko's hot tongue. A sloppy trail of saliva is left in the wake of every flick from his oral muscle, the hum he lets out against you enough to have your legs squirming around under his touch.

There's a smooth sound of schliiiick that rings out though the throne room, the noise surely loud enough for someone beyond its large walls to hear. Not that you or him seem to care, though.

Whines 'n moans are easily pulled from somewhere in your throat as his mouth maneuvers suavely to capture the entirety of your saccharine taste onto the center of his tongue.

Your back soon slumps against the throne, leaving you to stare in awe at the starving lord of a man who's cravings could only be satisfied through the taste of your sloppy cunt. There's a feeling of paranoia haunting you from somewhere within your gut that at any moment now a person could knock on the throne room doors or simply burst right in with an urgent matter but, ask Zuko if he cares!

Spoiler alert: he doesn't.

The tips of his tongue dive and dip all around the very ends 'n ins of your pussy, lapping out the most provocative of gushes form deep within you. You're a blissed-out mess of moans before he even thinks to pull himself up for a moment to breathe. And by then, your hands have buried themself into his long lushes locks of hair, tugging and pulling at his head as your teeth tatter against themself in an honest attempt at maintaining even the slightest fracture of your composure.

Then Zuko's body shifts forward and suddenly his tongue his snaking its looong self past your folds, wetly spreading you open on it. Your back arches almost immediately and you think your eyes cross just as your fingers scrape over his scalp.

Zuko's head tilts ever so slightly to lick at your insides at a circularly different angle, tongue plucking itself in and out of your gushy entrance simply to have your arousal leaking all down the expanse of his jawline.

When the man tugs himself away to gasp, he's only diving back in half a second later to kiss over your clit and then smear the tip of his tongue around it—showcasing to you that his skills go beyond mere fire bending and that his tongue has learned how to bend the feel of a new element to you.

Something raw jumps out of your throat and you pant out his name whilst he shakes his head into you and then proceeds to respond to your calls by spelling his name out around your clit.

Then come his fingers—and fuck if they aren't farrr thicker than you were prepared for, initially prodding at your drooling hole, and then carefully pushing into you after a mere tease to that clingy ring of resistance he's met with.

Your lower lip pushes out and you moan just past it, earning his attention for the first time in a while as his eyes come up to find your lewdly-set expression.

"Ah," Using a free hand to wipe some of the slick from his mouth, Zuko moves up towards you and keeps his fingers working your insides, "Don't pout. You can take this much," He encourages, a second digit carefully slipping into you. "See? Two of my fingers, buried so deep inside you like that..." His words earn a particularly filthy squelch. "Shit, you should feel honored by this, sweetheart."

You manage a huff at that, nails chafing into the arm of the throne again, "Y-You and that damn-, ngh, honor..."

He snickers, his thumb poking forward to plumply round your clit, "Tell me I'm wrong. Tell me you don't feel honored to have me this devoted to you."

"Zuko," You moan instead of answering correctly.

Letting it slide due to his soft spot for you, he merely sighs. "Please understand that this is your purpose to me, not abandoning me to go whisper in the ears of Earth Kingdom fools." Zuko explains to you, voice coming out in warm waves against the crown of your ear, "Understood?"

You nod, "Y-Yes, Zuko."

His head cocks to the side, fingers jolting up against your slicked walls to curl, "You address me so formally any other time but now..." He pulls away a few inches to cast his eyes over your expression, fully appreciating how gorgeously you fall apart on just two of his fingers.

He can only begin to imagine how satisfying it would be to see you do the same on his cock. Fuck, you probably wouldn't even be able to handle that, would you?

No, but you'd damn sure try if he let you...

Meeting his gaze, "Yes, my lord." You correct in a short whisper.

For the first time ever, Zuko realizes the title doesn't sound so bad coming from you.

At least, not in this context since his cock promptly hardens through his robes in reaction to that sweet, sweet tone of yours.

He would've spelt his name out into your cunt and split you open on his fingers a long time ago if he knew this would be the result!

A smirk splays out across his wet mouth and he leans in, his breath mingling with your own, "Cum for me, my advisor. Show me where your loyalties lie."

That quickly sends you right over the edge, your cunt clenching and twitching all around his fingers as one of your hands move out to clutch onto his royal clothing.

Breathlessly puffing, "F-Fuuck.."

Zuko watches you closely the entire time, loving the way your thighs quiver, and how good your pussy feels releasing onto his hand.

Only leaning away as you're done to murmur, "See? Now, tell me again about leaving?"

(not proofread, GULP) || banner art from “Lady K and the Sick Man” || tags:

@stardewplz @muddiedlove @rain-market @mayashoee @kayxox123 @yoshinorecommends @whimsynojai @blcknebula @sukubusss @iiakithegoat 

@1ana22 @miss-f0rtun3 @helloxkittylo @p-plenitude @bunbun812 @cuffiescariche @ily24 @neoroneo88 @taemfvante @gracewinston

DABI ✦ voyeur

tw + tags ;; consentual voyeurism (?), mutual masterbation, degradation, slight daddy kink, squirting, brief vaginal

you love dabi, and a part of that love is making him stand in the bushes outside of your house — during winter — so he can watch you touch yourself through the window.

it's finally night, and after a long day, you lurch into your bedroom and collaspe onto the bed with a dramatic sigh, allowing your plush sheets to engulf you. after a minute of rest, you figure there's a better way to help release all the stress that's been building within you during the day.

squirming to the edge of your bed, you open your bedside drawer and rummage around until your find the toy you're looking for. then, after briefly checking it's charged, you roll onto your back.

meanwhile, dabi rustled about in the bushes. thankfully this was just a roleplay, because if it was real, he would make a terrible voyeur. he's too tall, hence the bushes didn't camoflage him well. plus, he was too antsy, you could hear his every movement.

the window to your bedroom was at the back of your house, therefore no neighbours or passers-by would notice him lurking. albeit it was dark anyway, the majority of civilised society was sound asleep. but not you; you were laying on your bed, wriggling as you tugged your shorts off to reveal your pantie-clad pussy.

your curtains were cracked open to allow him to peer inside, and your room was illuminated by the warm light of your lamp. thus, he could see that you were wearing his favourite thong — the maroon one with the intricate lace that squeezed your folds just right. the one he had to buy for you three seperate types after he kept ripping them off you.

his eyes dragged lecherously over your perfect body: those pert tits, pebbled nipples that strained against the fabric of your night shirt, and that drooling pussy. so exposed and vulnerable to the horrors of the night.

your bed was perpendicular to the window, however he was peeking in through the corner furthest from your bed, meaning he had an unobstructed view of your cunt. he bit his lip as you slowly peeled your panties off, despite how it clung to your damp lips. he mimicked your actions by undoing his fly and freeing his throbbing erection, which only worsened when he witnessed the sigh of relief that you exhaled upon feeling the cold air nip at your bare pussy.

he couldn't help but lick his lips at the delicious sight; he's seen it a million times by now but the way your sopping pussy glistens under the dim light never fails to take his breath away. it's freezing outside, but he's comforted by the burning warmth secreting from his core. it pulses and knots when he thinks about how badly he wants to be inside with you, devouring you until you're screaming his name.

alas, he's stuck out here; palming his dick while you turn on your vibrator and nestle it against your entrance. your lips purse as you use your other hand to carefully touch your clit, way slower than dabi would've. it almost frustrated him to see going so easy on yourself. if he was in there, he would already be slamming his cock into you and rubbing your clit til it was swollen.

but you were going slow and steady. face contorting as you gradually push the head of your vibrator into your hole; so agonisingly slow that he could see your pussy stretching to accomodate it, and how your walls would occasionally twitch around it.

eventually, with another measured sigh, you fit the whole thing inside you. not that it was of particularly impressive length — his dick was about three times the size of that shitty thing. still, you seemed to be enjoy it. your index finger teased your clit slightly, while your other hand groped your tit and did the same thing to your nipple.

it was an addiciting sight; he'd often forget to blink due to how intently he was watching your creamy pussy froth around that vibrator. "stupid bitch." he hissed quietly to himself, pumping his cock even faster as he watched your back arch off the bed, "so fucking hot.. mph, n' you don't even know it."

your moans were largely nullified by the walls seperating the two of you, but if he held his breath for a moment, he was able to faintly hear your distinctly sweet whines coming from inside, mixing with the whistle of the frosty wind. he'd go light-headed from how often he stopped breathing just so could hear you and those cute little whimpers and the low drumming of the toy.

initially, it felt strange laying on your bed and masterbating with the knowledge that your boyfriend was lurking right outside your window; it was like you could feel his icy stare tingle at your skin. but soon enough, with the aid of the toy furiously itching your needy entrance, you soon lost yourself to the euphoric , hedonistic haze.

your back arched while your ass squirmed against the mattress, like you were trying to escape the unrelenting stimulation, yet eagerly pushing the vibrator straight back in whenever it would slide out your cunt. "ahh, yes.. so good." you purred to yourself with delight as the toy tickled you just right, the tense waves of pleasure causing you to tug at your nipple harshly, searching for more bliss, "fuh— fuck.."

dabi's jaw is clenched so hard, grating his teeth together in turmoil. he's so captivated by you , watching your every move , analysing each lewd facial expression. he's stood so close to the window, his forehead is slightly pressed against it and his laboured breath results in the glass continously fogging up. one hand jerks himself off while the other madly swipes at the condensation at the window, desperately trying to clear it so he can keep a clear view of that gorgeous, drooling pussy. especially as he can tell that you're close.

"keep going. that's it , babe." he encourages quietly, examing your antsy figure — the way your cute toes are curling and what was previously gentle strokes on your clit has devolved to sloppy, repeated slaps. watching you trying to get off without his fat cock is so pathetic. he's been standing out here in the cold for like ten minutes; he would've had you sorted in four.

"m so gunna.." you groan to yourself, barely even able to hear yourself over the powerful vibration noise, in tendem with your hand frantically rubbing your sopping cunt. your brain was too fucked-out to properly coordinate and aim for your clit anymore.

"that's it, baby. almost there." he rasps, narrowing his eyes and feverishly pumping his cock, "fuck, you're right there. cum for daddy. don't be a stupid little tease."

"fuck!" before you could even realise what was happening, you were thrown over the edge, and your pussy was convulsing and gushing around your favourite toy. you hadn't even laid out a towel but you didn't seem to care, as you simply submit to your orgasm and allow the ecstasy to engulf you. not paying any notice to how your raw cunt had squirted all over your bed and floor, staining the sheets and soaking the carpet.

"c'mon. that's right. so wet and filthy." he huffs a chuckles as he feels himself finally come undone at the sight, his hot cum spurting over the wall in front of him and sticking to his own coarse hand, "only thing that pussy's good for — making a mess."

once your climax had subsided, you remain sprawled out on your bed, staring at the ceiling for several beats. "dabi.." you finally whined to yourself. overstimulated, dishevelled and light-headed; still recovering from your high, you idly tweak with your nipple, "come inside."

despite how soft and tired your voice is, dabi can still hear it from behind the window and wastes no time in cleaning himself up (the best he can) and rushing inside to join you in your bedroom.

however, you were simply instructing him to enter the house — but he sorely misinterpretted your command to "come inside", and that miscommuniation was made evident when he was yanking out that vibrator and stuffing his cock its place without hesitation.

AIZAWA ✦ dom / sub

tw + tags ;; dom! aizawa, degradation, praise, creampie, begging, bondage, gags, mentions of oral, heavy impact play & boot riding

in the past, you and aizawa have been somewhat kinky before. handcuffs, occassional choking, light impact play — that sorta stuff. you were acquainted with dom / sub dynamics but you never had the oppertunity to fully immerse yourselves in the fantasy.

well, now, on a random weekend, you've decided to go hardcore.

your bare knees were bruised from the perpetual friction against aizawa's hardwood floor — he's had you tied up , on your knees, shuffling around his bedroom for hours now. your were clad in typical kinky garmets: crotchless black panties, a measly bra, a ball gag, black stockings and garters that was fastened a little too tight. oh, and to complete the look, a pair of handcuffs that were connected by a thin chain to a similar restriction on your ankles, preventing you from standing up.

such a skimpy outfit would typically render you a shivering mess, but aizawa had already very kindly shot his hot load into pussy and ass, warming you right up. for now, your body was left trembling beneath him for other reasons.

he stood in front of you, gripping the bottom of your chin and forcing you to meet his cruel stare. a faint yet amused smile played on his lips, "you've been obidient so far. keeping so still while i fucked that tight ass." he mused, dragging his thumb across your lower lip, which was stretched around the ball gag, perhaps his kindest touch so far, "i'd praise you if it wasn't for the fact that being behaved is your obligation. the bare miniumum. even a dumb whore could do that."

he clicks his tongue, "but i think i owe you some consideration. you're my sweet princess, after all." his strong hands tangle into your roots as they snake behind your head, your heart almost flutters, "even if you are dressed like a slut."

his hands skillfully unclasp your ball gag and allow it to fall off and loudly clatter against the floor. the freedom to move your jaw once agains feels strange at first, and you take a few trials contractions first, and aizawa chuckles at the sight. "like a fish out of water."

you pout at his comparison, "hey, it's a w—"

his hand snap to your throat, and your eyes buldge from shock as his fingers tighten around your airway unexpectedly, "did i give you permission to speak?" he asks in a low voice, leaning over so his face is only inches from yours.

you gulp, then shake your head timidly.

"that's right. so don't." he states with scowl. he straighens himself up and crosses his arms over his chest, "bend over. ass up."

with a quiet sigh, you do as he instructs — trying to stifle the winces and sobs from the pain of shuffling around on your already bruised knees. still, you lean forward and with your cheek pressed firmly against the floor, you prop yourself up on your bent knees so your ass is in the air. it's a strange and uncomfortable position, since your ankles were connected to your wrists by a chain. but it's perfect for flogging , which is all aizawa cares about.

"this is lesson about not speaking unless spoken to. one that i hope you remember." he picks up a paddle from nearby and strikes your ass with the flat surface, revelling in your cute gasps. they have previously been muffled by the gag, but now your mouth was entirely free and all those delicious noises were music to his ears. he hit your ass with the paddle again and again, enjoying each little whimper and flinch, until your ass was painted with the impact.

"you understand what you did wrong now?" he asked, roughly massaging your tender with his palm, "and will you do it again?"

you can't shake your head since your face is pressed on the floor, so instead you simply press your lips into a line and stay silent. a decision which earns you your first instance of praise for the night, "that's my girl." he ruffles your already dishevelled hair, "such a quick learner. so doting and ready to do whatever i say, huh?"

though you can't see it since he stood behind you, he frowns. his brows furrowing together contemplatively, "hm, my plan was to leave you on the ground with a vibrator in your hole, sit over there and watch as i edge you all night." he motions to the edge of his bed. "but you've just been so good. maybe i should use your throat as a cocksleeve and fuck the words out of that pretty little mouth."

he ambles over to your front where you can see him, and looks down at you expectantly, "what do you think, angel?"

his voice is silkly smooth, and lures you in a siren call. for a moment, you have a lapse in judgement and respond, "i would really—"

"what did i just say?" he paddles your ass. but not in a structured manner like before; now he's just slamming the paddle against your ass over and over, until your squirming to get away (to no avail). "what did i tell you about talking? too dumb to retain information for more than two fucking minutes?"

"i thought i could speak if i was spoken to!" you cry, your entire body bouncing with each hard slap.

"and now you're talking back!"

he raises his voice at you, causing tears to prick at your eyes. even though he knows you have a safeword that you're choosing not to use, the lover in aizawa still can't bring himself to keep berating you and smacking your ass when you look so defeated. thus, he stops.

"and you were doing so well too." sighing, he trudged over to the bed and sat on the edge. looking down at you with a scornful expression, he grumbles, "to think, i was almost going to satisfy that oral fixation of yours. but not anymore, you don't deserve it."

he crosses his arms, and thinks it over for moment, "you don't even deserve the edging either. that would be too gracious for dumb girl like you." he shakes his head, allowing his eyes to drift shut during a torturously prolonged silence. " 'm just going to nap."

nap?! during your dom / sub fantasy roleplay?! wtf..

"if you want, because i'm kind and i love you too much, i'll let you use my boot." he gestures to his right shoe , which he kicks out slightly for emphasis. it's the same dirty combat boots that he wears everywhere; firm black laces climbing his ankles and matte wrinkles in every crevice. you can't remember the last time you saw him clean those things.

"your boot?" you confirm.

"mhm." he hums, entertained by your bemused expression, "if you beg for it."

"wouldn't that hurt?" you inquire innocently. the thought of scraping your pussy against those thick laces made you shudder.

he shrugs.

"it is clean?"

"probably not. but you're going to beg for it either way, aren't you, slut?" he commands through gritted teeth.

you nod eagerly, in desperate need for some sort of stimulation, "i need your boot so bad. please, aizawa.. mister.. sir.." you fumble over his nickname, forgetting which one he prefers. when you gaze up at him for advice, he only glares down at you with fierce contempt, startling you into continuation, "please let me fuck myself on it. i've.. i've been bad and your boot is all i deserve."

"you don't deserve even this." he corrects.

"i— i don't deserve it." you hiccup, teary-eyed, "but would you please still let me? you're the most handsome, smart and merciful man i know and it wo—"

"flattery won't get you anywhere."

"please! i know i'm a dummy and i can't follow simple instructions but i'm really sorry. please, if you give me this i won't ask you for anything ever again. i'm aching and i need this. please."

aizawa narrow his eyes as he mulls over his final decision. then, with a sigh, he aggressively pinches your cheek, "you're lucky you're so cute." he groans as he leans back on the bed, his legs still hanging over the edge. "fine. knock yourself out. just don't be too loud. daddy's trying to sleep."

while he huffs out a defeated sigh and starts to relax on the bed, you shuffle forward and mount his shoe, gasping at the sharp contact of his stiff laces against your soft cunt. your juices seep across his boot, adding a sticky sheen to the leather. excited by the stimulation, you begin to move — desperate for even more. and what starts as you slowly rocking your hips back and forth against his shoe, quickly devolves into you shamelessly riding it. panting and moaning as you bounce up and down on the rough material.

"shota! hah— thank you!" you whine, clinging onto his leg with your face pressed against his knee. soon, you were lost in the feeling of your sopping cunt kissing his boot and the delicious friction of your clit dragging against it. "ngh, so much!"

since he had previously brought you to your orgasm several times tonight, your toleance has been greatly wounded and the molten knot in your core was quivering after only a couple minutes of riding his boot. wordlessly, when he can sense you're getting close, he reaches an arm forward and places in on your head, patting and stroking your hair.

with a final rut and scrape of your sensitive folds down the unforgiving length of his laces, you came gushing onto his shoe and trembled against his leg as you did so.

breathy, lewd pleas spilled from your mouth as you climaxed, muttering to yourself since you physically couldn't scream anymore. "shota, yes— thank you so much, i'm— fuck!"

he smiles at your nonsensical babbling, and continues to caress your hair, "you're welcome, angel. now, come lie down with me."

HAWKS ✦ chef x waitress

tw + tags ;; foodplay, slight anal, brief oral (f! receiving), degradation & knife play (mostly foreplay tbh)

what can you say? hawks is an eccentric that's into freaky shit. therefore, when he told he booked you both in for a night at a famous love hotel, you were elated but not terribly surprised — that totally sounds like something he'd do.

but what did surprise you, was when you walked into the room he reserved and saw the decorations and theme. nothing could've prepared you for that.

"waitress! get in here!" keigo hollered, and you quickly scurried into the room. it was difficult to move in the outfit he gave you; it was distictly sexed-up waitress uniform. the skirt was unfathomably short, to the point it required you to take micro-steps as you walked, otherwise you'd be at risk of it riding up passed your ass. the torso was slightly more modest: you had a regular white shirt, albeit it was far too small for you and the buttons were threatening to pop around your bust; there was also a black waistcoat and a cute bow-tie. oh, and how could you forget the glossy platform stilletos he has you prancing around in — you did attempt to explain to him that no minimum wage employee in the world attends work wearing high-heels, but he implored you play into his fantasy, and it's hard saying no to him.

that's why you had to lurch into the faux-kitchen, grabbing onto the walls and any nearby surface for balance. "uh— yes, chef?" you stutter.

hawks is stood at the other side of the kitchen, near the sink with a chopping board laid out in front of him. you can't criticise him too much for wanting you to dress up, as he was very committed to this roleplay too, as you could tell by his full chef's whites and matching hat. There wasn't even a hole in the back of the shirt for his wings so he had to stuff them undernearth; the sacrifices he makes!

with two knives — one in each hand — hawks rapidly started slicing up a tomato, the harsh impact of his blade against the board causing juice to splatter around him. he even made a performance out of it; throwing the knives in the air and catching them behind his back, or spinning them around on the tip of his finger like a basketball. It was almost as impressive as it was terrifying.

eventually, he stopped and dramatically dropped his knives onto the surface. then, spun around on his heels to face you, wearing an uncharacteristically 'intimidating' smolder. it took everything in you not to chortle at the sight. "a little birdie told me you've been disrespecting my craft." he tilts his head, "is that true?"

you raise your eyebrow, unsure where he's going with this, but willing to play along. "depends what you mean by that."

"oh, i think you know exactly what i mean!" he calls out, then clasps his hands behind his back and begins to saunter towards you, each step slow and deliberate. "your co-workers told me that you started a rumour that the salmon in my niçoise salad is grilled and not smoked." he says in a low voice, circling you, "what do you have to say for yourself?"

you can't help but freeze up under his harsh scruntiny. deep down you know this man is literally just your silly, sexy boyfriend who is simply acting like an austere chef. yet you still feel your stomach churn as his penetrating eyes drag over your scandily-clad body; it's as though the logical part of your brain was malfunctioning and you could only perceive the man standing in front of you as a michelin-star restaurant owner with a bad temper and immediate access to knives. the magic of roleplay.

thus, you gulp and croak out, "i'm— uh, sorry?"

hawks dramatically takes a step back and gasps, balling his fists over his chest in complete shock. his jaw dropped but it quickly snaps such when his face switches to a scowl. "your're 'uh, sorry'?" he chastises, over exaggerating your folly. then, when you open your mouth to respond, he harshly smacks your ass — and it stings , largely due to the fact your short skirt left you with virtually no protection. the impact causes you to stumble, but you're able to catch yourself before falling over.

"not good enough." he tuts, shaking his head. he grandly points to the centre island. "bend over. i'm going to teach you an important lesson about respecting food."

your eyebrows furrow with confusion, but still, you hung your head and pad towards the kitchen surface, "yes, chef." you murmur, moving carefully as to not stumble in your tall heels. when you bend over the kitchen isalnd, your feet don't quite reach the floor, and your skirt is basically just decoration, since your entire ass is now on display.

following you, his hand caresses your thigh lovingly, as he beholds the gorgeous sight of your drooling pussy afore him. granted, it partially covered by your lacey thong, but that wouldn't be the case for long. licking his lips, he places a kiss in area where he spanked you, and the skin is still searing, "you okay, baby?" he mutters in his regular voice, speaking into the plush fat of your ass.

"yes, keigo." you try to nod with your cheek pressed against the cool metal countertop.

"alright. then be quiet and take like a good little waitress." you can practically hear him smirking as he talks. the tip of his tongue dips between your folds, obstructed by the fabric of your panties. he relishes in the wet warmth of your sex, but doesn't indulge himself for too long. hastily, he straightens himself and retracts his face from your pussy — lest he is tempted to eat you out, when really you're in dire need of punishment.

he affectionately cups your cunt with his palm, then his demeanour switches instantly as he hooks his fingers under your panties and tears them clean off. leaving your ass and damp pussy entirely exposed, and he can't help but smirk at the sight, "awh, so excited already, baby?" he teases, sliding his middle fingers between your slick folds, caressing your labia.

perhaps the reveal of your sex had the real hawks slipping out from behind the chef role he was attempting to portray. his words were melting into an inflection more tantilising and sweet, rather than stern and merciless. but he's quick to return to the abbrasive man he was trying to embody, "think you can just get away with saying whatever the hell you want about my cooking?" he chides, smacking your ass once more, causing you to whimper in reaction at the layered ache, "not this time. once i'm done with you, you'll think twice before opening that stupid mouth of yours."

then, you can feel the tip of his shining kitchen knife poke the back of your neck. not deep enough to pierce the skin, but still enough to make your blood rush to your head. "understand me, slut?" he rasps, harshly squeezing a handful of your ass with his other hand.

"yes, chef." is all you're able to choke in response.

there's a strange crunching noise behind you, which somewhat baffles you, until you see keigo's hand come down in front of you, holding an apple. "bite down on this and keep quiet. can't let the customers hear what i'm doing to you." the apple is dangling right in front of your mouth, however he's angled it in such a way that the only part accessible to you is the part he's already taken a bite out of. demeaning, but you've shared food with him before, so you don't think much of it when you sink your teeth into the half-eaten fruit.

"hm, you're an obidient little waitress, huh?" he says scornfully, roughly massaging your ass in the palm of his hands, "so keen to do anything your boss tells you to." his fingers prod and tease your wet hole, charmed by how desperately your tight pussy tries to lure him in. "even when i'm just trying to humiliate you."

before you can even question what he means by that, you feel his thumb grip into your ass cheek to pull them apart, while his other finger lovingly strokes your winking hole. your eyes screw shut and your body tenses with embarrassment against the metal surface — case and point. "so cute." he muses, then clears his throat and corrects, "for a useless whore."

you could tell he was having a hard time staying in character when he has his gorgeous lover splayed out in a waitress costume for him, but he definitely tries. he swallows the lump in his throat, then retracted his finger from your entrance and replaces it with something long and smooth, with a jagged tip.

oh, fuck.

a cucumber. the tip is round against your blinking hole and you can tell from the feleing alone that it's too girthy for you to take, but he prods your entrance with it regardless. "shit. you like it, bitch? cos your needy ass is asking for it." he speaks as though he's almost of breath, "think you can take it?"

you furiously shake your head. well, as much as you can while your cheek is against the surface top and you've got an apple-gag in your mouth. although there wasn't anything restraining your hands so you could remove it from your mouth, but considering the previous vitriol he had, you suspect it's better to keep it there.

"no? what, is it too big for you or something?" he mocks, clearly able to witness the size difference himself, yet he still tortures you a bit more by pressing the end of the vegetable even further against your hole. almost daring to penetrate. "too big for my innocent waitress?" your eyes screwed shut in anticipation of the terrific stretch, but you were left in suspense as keigo just sighed and put it aside.

if he was just the slightest bit more evil, he would have the gall to push that cucumber right up your tight ass and watch you squirm and writhe beneath him as you struggle to take it. but unfortunately, he adores you too much and simply cannot bare it. maybe he isn't built for this 'roleplay' stuff.

"you're lucky that i love you.." he grumbles, and you can't help but laugh a little into your apple.

IIDA ✦ professor x student

tw + tags ;; oral (f!receiving), inappropriate academic relationships, praise, brief hair pulling (giving).

it requires the utmost level of stubbornness and mental fortitude in order to convince the ingenium to roleplay professor / student with you.

but thankfully for you have that man whipped beyond words, and that's how you end up in a themed love hotel together, dressed up in your respective roles' outfits.

he's sat at his desk grading papers (they are actually sodokus you printed out — now he doesn't need to pretend to be focussed, he just is), wearing a perfectly ironed white shirt and navy slacks, and a matching tie. his hair, which also conveniently coordinates with the colour scheme, is slicked back with stiff gel, with a singular strand hanging free.

meanwhile, you saunter up to his desk wearing the outfit you curated especially to get iida in the mood — you're wearing his favourite black tennis skirt, with matching shoes. it's well established that whenever you try to leave the house wearing this skirt with tenya, the plans are immediately canceled and you will not be arriving at your destination that day.

additionally, you're wearing the generic college sweater the hotel provided. it's literally just a comfy red sweater with the word 'college' embroidered into the front. still, you found it cute.

when you place your hand on his desk, he looks up from his papers, and went you lock eyes, he smiles, "(y/n). nice to see you." he puts his pen down and motions for you to sit in the chair opposite him, "take a seat. what brings you into my office today?"

his voice is a little more robotic than it usually it, but you can't be too mad at him for it. at least he's trying. you sit down, and cross your legs, allowing your skirt to ride up your thigh dangerously high, "hi, professor ingenium."

professor ingenium? why didn't you just say iida? now you're making him sound like a dc supervillain. perhaps roleplaying doesn't come as naturally as you originally thought.

you exhale sharply out your nose, "i just came to enquire about the final mark for the essay i submitted." you bat your eyes at him, and you can see iida visibly tense in his chair. he clears his throat and responds in a croak, "uh, right. and what is your inquiry?" he bashfully pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and averts his eyes. you're the one who is supposed to be playing the student, so why is he acting like a nervous schoolboy?!

regardless, you elaborate in the most seductive tone you can muster, "it's just that you've given me a 65%. but in order for me to attain a first class honours, i need at least a 70%."

iida stares at you're cute face, and has to remind himself that it's not his sweet girlfriend who he's talking to, but rather a student of his fake course. thus, he clears his throat and states, "well, i'm sorry that you won't be achieving a first-class honours. but a 2:1 is still something to be very proud of." his focus swiftly returns to the papers he's grading.

"uh— it's just—" you stammer, not expecting him to be so curt. but you entertain it, assuming that he's just playing hard-to-get. "i was wondering if there was anything i could do to, y'know.." your legs are corssed under the table, and one stretches forward to stroke the side of his calf with yours. "—raise my grade?"

his eyes widen, and his body jolts slightly to meet your sultry gaze. still, he's firm in his notion, "unfortunately, since this is your research essay, there is no window for appeals. all marks are final." he loosens his tie slightly, suddenly feeling it to be extremely restrictive and sweltering.

since his eyes hastily land back upon his paper, he doesn't notice the way your eyebrows furrow together with frustration at his obstinacy. still, you're determined to crack him. "but professor," you whine with a pout, sneaking you finger under his chin and guiding it up so he can look at your pleading face, "aren't i your favourite student? can't you make an exception for me? just this once."

"you are.." his voice trails off, losing himself in your enchanting eyes while a blush creeps over his cheeks, "my favourite."

he huffs, turning away and grabbing your wrist to remove it from his chin, "but unfortunately i can't make an exception for any one student, because then i would need to make an exception for every student, and then where would i be?" he explains firmly, gripping your wrist harshly until he realises, then he lets you go and simply folds his arms over his chest, "so i believe we're done here."

"but i—"

"please leave my office before i contact your department head and inform them of your behaviour; attempting to weaponise your raging sexuality to seduce your professor into giving you a better mark. tsk." he shakes his head disapprovingly, and you simply huff.

now it's your turn to cross your arms and gripe, "tenya! what are you doing? you're totally ruining my fantasy student / professor roleplay.." you grumble, using his name to signify you were speaking out-of-character.

iida perks up at the sudden shift in your demeanour, and a sudden wave of guilt washes over him to see you in such an upset mood, due to his actions, "my— my apologies. i really didn't mean to ruin this for you, sweetheart." he reaches forward and rigidly strokes your shoulder with his hand, "but i thought you wanted me to be difficult. i recall you claiming to 'enjoy the pursuit'."

"well, yeah. i asked you to play hard-to-get. not impossible-to-get."

iida presses his lips into a line, seeming to realise his errors in recollection. he stands from his chair slightly so he can lean in and press a tender, loving kiss to your forehead. when he returns to his chair, he smiles softly at you, "i see, dear. if you'd like, we could again from the beginning, and i promise to be a bit more willing, this time around."

you grin, and nod at his offer. eagerly springing up from your seat to leap back to where you started. but not without pecking his cheek first, "that would be perfect, tenya. thank you."

as you were before, you saunter up to iida's desk while he is doing his sudoku, and he pretend to not notice you until you arrive. only then does he perk up and gaze at you, "(y/n). my favourite student. please, take a seat." he gestures to the chair opposite him, and you hastily sit down. "to what do i owe this pleasure?"

you can't help but smile, immediately picking up on his change of attitude. you happily cross your legs once again and explain, "it's just that— i'm a bit disappointed with the grade you gave me on my research paper. so, i was wondering if there was anything i could do to convince you to change my 65 to a 70?"

perhaps he's taking his role as your professor too seriously, but the thoughts he's having about you in that short skirt make him feel genuinely perverted. he gulps them down for now, and replies, "i suppose altering your score by five marks wouldn't be too much of a hassle." he reaches forward and cups your cheek in his hand, "especially not for my favourite student."

you smile, leaning into his touch. but it's swiftly yanked away from you, and settles back on his lap, "however, going into the system and changing your mark is a massive risk. my superiors may notice and grill me about why i did it, and what would i say then?" he tilts his head, and pauses as though he's actually awaiting a response.

although, as soon as you open your mouth to give him one, he interjects, "i could lose my tenure, or my job entirely because of favouritism." he says, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, "so, i suppose what i'm asking is, what can you offer to make the risk worthwhile?"

his tone is low and deliciously foreboding, and it causes your throat to dry up from terror. he's really backed you into a corner and it's utterly electrifying. you have to press your legs together to contain your excitement, "well, i could pay you $50." you sheepishly tug a strand of hair behind your ear.

iida's growing erection aches with need, but he can't help but feel that this is karma for what he did to you before. "unfortunately, i don't think $50 will suffice." he sighs, eyes lecherously scraping over your body. you've been together for so long and he's had you so many times before, but to him you're like a drug; each hit only fuels his addiction. it's jarring, like he's never craved someone or something so badly before.

"oh, okay. well.." you start, slowly standing up from your chair and strolling around to the other side of the desk, so you can perch your ass on the surface, hands bracing yourself at the edge. you're barely sat on it, most of your weight is distributed across your feet, but the desk still caused your skirt to ride up slightly. and you noticed as iida's wandering eyes lingered on your tempting skin, soon followed by his hand against you.

his stare was fixed on your legs, carefully watching as his hand against your soft thigh ventured under the fabric of your skirt, until he was virtually holding your ass. he glanced up at you for confirmation, at which you smiled. "is there anything else you would want from me?"

he caressed your plush skin in his palm, and shuffled his chair closer to you, "absolutely." he murmured, gazing up at you with hearts in his eyes. and smirk, and lean down to whisper in his ear, your hot breath sending sparks down his spine. "and what might that be, professor?"

you straighten yourself up, and see that he's now wearing an entirely blank expression, as though his mind is still trying to process your suggestive words. eventually, he's able to shakily gulp, and stand up, removing his hand from under your skirt in the process. "if you don't mind." he places his hands on your hips and guides you off the desk. it confuses you for just a moment, before he dramatically sweeps everything right off his desk and allows it all to tumble onto the floor, his papers scattering in the process.

you're not even given a moment to react to his brash actions, for he pushes you back down onto the desk, so you're sat atop it with your legs wrapped around his hips, and his hand on your thigh to secure them. "my sweet (y/n)." he mutters against your skin as he peppers gentle kisses from your cheek down your neck. "you're so beautiful, darling. and so tempting." you can hear the physical strain in his voice as he speaks. your hand ends up behind his head, resting on the back of his neck, "if— you'd allow me to indulge, just this once, i'd be happy to improve your grade."

"please do."

and iida wasn't going to ask twice. as soon as the world exitted your mouth, he dropped too his knees, placing his hands between your thighs to he could keep them completely spread. once his face is aligned with your cunt, there's no further obstacles between him and your drooling hole — your skirt was short enough that it didn't pose much of an interference at all, and your panties were so wet that they essentially clung to your lips like a second skin.

"so gorgeous." he muses, stroking your damp folds with his thumb, admiring how soaked you are already. his words were so tender yet his grip on your legs was anything but. his nails dug into your skin and fought to keep your legs as far apart as possible. his cheek rests against your thigh as his face nears your cunt, "i can tell you've been a good girl. so pristine."

his words were so nasty and perverted they left a sour taste. and in order to mask it, he was eager to experience the taste of you instead. once he peeled off those pesky panties and discarded them, he was left staring at your entirely bare pussy, breathless and astounded by the enticing sight.

reluctantly, he leaned forward and closed his eyes as he locked his mouth onto your cunt, his lips carefully sweeping against your sensitive labia. each movement he makes is cautious yet deliberate, attempting to get as close to you as possible and suck in as much of your juices as he can. he keeps going, lips working at an increasingly furious pace as he desperately tries to satiate his hunger.

"mmph— (y/n), sweetheart." he groans into your cunt, so close that the cold lense of his glasses is pressed right up against your aching clit. "you— ah.." he suddenly breaks away, inhaling deep, staggered breaths while he woes over how quickly he lost himself in your heat. he slides his glasses off and momentarily appreciates how your slick has already stained his lenses. he folds the legs and places them aside, in his desk drawer.

when he returns to his rightful position between his legs, he looks up at you and quirks a brow, "enjoying yourself?" the rough pad of his thumb finds your needy clit, and begins to circle it painfully slow. this causes you to moan lightly, and respond with an airy, "y— yeah." your legs twitching in his hand tells him everything he needs to know.

"yes who?"

"yes, professor." you whine, which is then followed by another guttural moan which is ripped from you when iida's lips connect to your cunt once again, suckling on your folds and finally allowing his tongue to delve into your hole. one strong arm hooked around your thigh to keep you in place, with his hand groping at the plush fat, while his other hand focuses on your clit, pinching and teasing it, continiously drawing cute noises from you.

"mrphh, sweetheart. so good." he grumbles into your slobbering hole, aggressively thrusting his tongue into you over and over, emitting a lewd squelching each time. your fingers twirl into his navy locks, stiff due to the hairgel but your need for something to cling to defies it. your grip is brutal yet he doesn't mind, he's far too absorbed in making out sloppily with your sweet cunt.

"nngh— professor. faster, please." you whimper, a molten wire coiling in your abdomen with each smooth movement of his tongue into your tight hole, pushing against your restrictive walls. the vibrations of his mouth against your damp labia too made you light-headed, soon your arms were giving out and you were left to slide down onto the desk, until your back was arching against the surface.

his thumb gyrated against your clit, while his tongue plowed into you relentless. at first his action were poise and deliberate but now he's devolved into starving mess, attacking your bare cunt with his mouth and letting his tongue carelessly thrash around your insides.

and he just kept going, mercilessly until you were nothing but a moaning, fucked-out pool of arousal. soon enough, both your legs were trembling, and your needy whines were increasing in pitch, and tenya had rearrnged your guts enough enough times to know what that means. thus, despite his jaw being ready to lock, he persevere and continues to lap at your folds and pierce into your hole.

until you're coming undone against his face, the brittle wire in the pit of your stomach finally crumbling away with his unending thrusts. molten warmth emenates from your core and spreads throughout your entire body, tingling at your extremties and causing your toes to curl in ecstacy.

"iida.." you mewl aimlessly, nails struggling to find purchase on the smooth desk beneath you. "fuck." you groan, and he responds to your targeted cries from between your thighs, face still buried against your slick cunt.

"sweetie. that's it." he kneads the meat of your thigh in his hand while his tongue drags in you, creating the most delicious friction against your twitching walls and coaxing you through your high. "mm, finish for me, angel." he urges, a hungry growl lacing into his voice, as he continues to frantically eat you out, not faltering even when your sopping pussy feebly clings onto him.

eventually, your tense legs finally give out entirely in his arms, and your whiny cries of pleasure fade away into staggered heaves. when it appears that your climax has fully subsided, only then does tenya retract his mouth from your cunt.

you look down at him, and you can't help but smile; your austere boyfriend with his lower face smeared with your slick, and his previous gel-rigid hair has become dishevelled with sweat and fervour. clearly out of breath, he look up at you with his piercing red eyes, and he opens his mouth to say something but upon noticing your red jumper with the word 'college' written across it, he suddenly remembers that he's still in the middle of a roleplay. thus, he swallows whatever it was he was about to say, and instead offers:

"that was.. excellent. i think i'd be willing to raise your grade by another 5%, if you'd finish for me again?"

BAKUGO ✦ pizza delivery man x homeowner

tw + tags ;; vaginal, heavy degradation, rough sex, brief hair pulling, impact play, anal fingering, spitting & creampie.

never in a million years would you ever be able to convince bakugo to roleplay with you, and make him take it seriously. so in order to live out your fantasy, you had to devise an alternative route.

after he finished his work for the day, you'd invite him over to your place. however, you'd inform him that you ordered a pizza for the two of you to share, and request that he picks it up from the shop on his way over.

then, as soon as he arrives at your doorstep with the pizza, your plan is put in motion.

there's not a missed beat between the doorbell chiming, and your door swinging open to reveal you stood an oddly regal robe, tailored of silk that reached the floor. it was elegant yet casual, and he's never seen you in it before — you just about took his breath away, but he tried his best to hide his enthrallment by averting his eyes and spitting, "what the hell are you wearing? think you're some kind of princess?"

ignoring his bitter remarks, you play along to the script you had prepared in your mind. beaming, you happily accepted the pizza and chirped, "thank you so much for delivering this pizza. but i—" your voice trailed off and your expression dropped into a far more awkward one, as you begin frantically glancing around and checking the various pockets of your robe.

"you what?"

"i don't have any money to pay you with." you pout, batting your eyelashes at him and inwardly praying that he would catch onto your vibe.

bakugo simply tilted his head, and glared at you. there is a prolonged silence in which you hope that he's processing your strange behaviour and coming to the realisation that you're trying to roleplay with him, but his next words vanquish that notion, "what? you don't have to pay me back, idiot. think i can't afford a cheap ass pizza?"

"of course i need to pay you." you grit, staring at him with deranged wide-eyes that almost make him shudder. then, you ultimately sigh, "y'know what, i think i might have some change in my purse. why don't you step inside for a moment while i go upstairs and check? i'd hate to make you wait out here in the cold."

okay, now bakugo was truly dumbfounded. it was the evening, and the sun was setting but it still wasn't particularly cold — in fact, it was quite a moderate temperature. he huffs, unsure of what you're playing at but too drained from work to question it, "whatever." he enters your house and allows you to hastily close the door behind him.

he's been to your house plenty of times before, and from the way you pleaded for him to come over, he anticipated that he was going to stay the night. so naturally, he moves to take his shoes off like he usually does, but instead you turn around and insist, "uh no! keep those on, i won't be long." you flash him a cute smile before you dart upstairs, presumably to fetch your wallet like you said.

astonished, katsuki is unsure what to do. thus, he just crosses his arms and waits, mulling over what could've happened to cause you to act so strangely. but it isn't long before you come strolling down the stairs, dejectedly explaining, "i can't seem to find my purse either. i'm so sorry."

"don't be sorry, i already told you that it's fi—" his grumbling is cut off by you suddenly approaching him with intensity, slipping your arms around his shoulders and pulling yourself in until your chest is pressed against his. when he peers down at you, the fold in your robe allows him to see your cleavage, and he can tell by your sly smirk that it was on purpose.

"do you take any alternative forms of payment?"

the realisation comes crashing down on him like a pile of bricks and essentially knocks the air out of lung. a flurry of emotions fills his chest; slight embarrassment that he didn't pick up on what you were doing far sooner, but mostly raging lust and desire. now he needs to see what you've got on under that stupid robe.

a match smirk tugs at his lips, and his arms instantly lock around your waist, keeping you as close as physically possible, " 'alternative payment' huh? i guess that could work." he clicks his tongue, hands trailing down from your waist until he's able to aggressively grab two handfuls of your ass, causing you to jolt in his arms. "you're gunna have to take this slutty robe off first." he rumbles into your ears, lips so close that they brush against it.

reluctantly escaping his grasp, you pad a few feet away from him so he can get the full view of your body as you drop your robe, to reveal the nothingness you had on underneath. you even gave him a little twirl so he could see it from all your best angles.

fuck, he thought, gulping. to be fair, he probably should've expected that, yet he was foolish enough to think that his needy girlfriend would've at put on some sexy lingerie for him. although, he probably would've torn it all off you anyway, so it was a worthless investment, really. especially as his favourite thing to see you wearing is nothing.

he has to bite his lip to contain all the praise and affectionate garble he was going to start spilling upon seeing your gorgeous body bare before him. once his eyes are fulfilled in coursing over your figure and soaking in all of your pretty curves, his hand finds its place on your hip as he pulls you back into his chest.

"there's my girl.." he mutters under his breath, a smirk tugging at his lips as he feels your plush tits pressed against him. he wasn't much for praise but letting one sweet remark slip wasn't awfully damaging to his ego; he's just a man, after all — a man in the presence of the most breath-taking woman he's ever had the pleasure of laying his eyes upon. hence, saying some cheesy things about you wasn't a big deal.

" 'm not your girl, katsuki." you whisper harshly into his ear, which causes him to stiffen. usually you melt at his terms of endearment, but now you were responding pretty oddly, "i'm just a random lady whose pizza you delivered. why can't you get that through your thick skull?"

right after the words exited your mouth, a gasp is ripped from you as the flat of bakugo's hand makes sharp contact with your ass cheek. your features pinch at the impact, which only causes him to chuckle briefly and grope a fistful of ass in his strong hand. "who the fuck do think you're talking to, bitch?" his tone is gruff and sinister, and he has the intense expression to match, yet there is an adoring glint in his eyes that reassures you that, despite his words, he's still completely down bad for you.

you shrug playfully, in stark contrast to his fierce demeanour, "you gunna take your payment or what?" you tease, nuzzling up your exposed body against his entirely clothed one, while leaning up to meet his lips for a delicate kiss, "or are you just gunna let me off the hook this time?"

katsuki couldn't help but smile against your lips. he wasn't really kissing back but that was only because he was too preoccupied thinking about his next actions; he wasn't all too expert at this 'roleplay' stuff, but he did know one thing for certain:

"nothing ever comes free, lady." his eyelids flutter shut, and he presses a fleeting yet rough kiss on your lips just once. in tandem with his hand on your ass tightening its grip, to the point his hold on you was partially lifting you off your feet for a moment. then, he relaxed, staring into your eyes when he said, "so, bend over."

you blink once, baffled by his curt suggestion, but you weren't given much time to process it before he leans down and grumbles in your ear, "don't make me say it again."

in an instant, you drop to the floor, scrambling into the position where you're bracing yourself on your elbows and your knees are bent so that your ass is in the air. fully on display for him; no lingerie or clothing obstructing his view of your glistening cunt. the lewd sight almost made him like his lips. "so fucking pretty." he murmured to himself.

your eagerness and speed also caused him to laugh scornfully as he lowered himself onto his knees to join you, "there's a table right there but your needy ass doesn't have the patience, huh?" he chides, motioning your coffee table which was situated only a few paces away from the foyer, "need that hole filled so bad you couldn't walk three steps. you seriously want me to wreck you on the damn ground?"

you mumble something in response, the words muffled by your cheek pressed against the hardwood floor — an unhygienic and demeaning experience, yet it only added to the arousal dripping between your legs. however, katsuki didn't accept muted noises as a response, hence he roughly tugged on your hair, and demanded, "speak up."

"i need you to wreck me on the floor!" it comes out as more of a cry than you would've liked, but on the bright side, the struggle and need laced in your voice is exactly what it takes to push katsuki over the edge and end the agonising foreplay. almost.

he grins, "say it again and i might."

"wreck me on the floor, katsuki.." you whine defeatedly, suppressing languid moans at the way his fingers brushed over your aching clit.

" 'katsuki'. how'd you know that? i didn't even tell you my name. i'm just some random pizza delivery guy that you're letting use your hole, remember?" he tests, massaging your damp folds with his fingers and relishing in how wet you are, while carelessly taunting your clit with little regard for the fretful moans he'd lure out of you, "you're a slut, you know that, right?"

he doesn't even wait for a response before he spreads your lips with his thumb, admiring the sight of your splayed out cunt. coated with a glossy sheen of slick from how fucking badly you need him, and his erection throbs at the sight. the lewd discomfort provokes him; and although he enjoys making you sob with desperation, now that he was the one seeking release, he's quick to act on it.

thus, you can hear him unzip his fly and the next thing you know, you can feel the fat head of his cock making contact with your soaked cunt. he dips between your folds and greases his tip with your arousal, even pressing himself against your sensitive clit just to watch you squirm. then he nestles himself by your entrance, and you can almost feel his precum leaking into you.

then, without warning, he shoves his bulbous tip right into you — followed by his shaft, and the rest of his cock, until he's bottomed out and your entrance is twitching around his base. "ah— fuck. just like that. fuck yeah." he groans to himself, and he can't help but smile like a madman at the way your perfect cunt grips onto him like a vice.

a pained cry is torn from you with each inch you take, which only makes him laugh, "didn't think you could do it." he grits, referring to how your pussy struggles to accommodate his monstrous length, like it usually does. "but you take it like a champ." he pinches your clit, causing you to gasp, then pats it twice, as though that was some form of praise in his eyes.

slowly, his hips start to rock against yours. and his massive size is pulled out of your hole, only to be slammed back inside in less than a second. each time, the dull stretch of your walls around him sends a wave of bliss coursing through your body. with the way his thrusts increase in power as he progresses, it's not long until his cock is rattling your internal organs and causing your limbs to tremble beneath you.

"you just give this pussy out to whatever moron that comes knocking at your door?" he huffs, eyebrows knitted together as he's concentrated on plowing into you — at that specific angle where he knows his tip will be brushing against that spongy spot within you.

despite his furious pumping and the fact he can audible hear your delirious moaning as you're fucked into the floor, he seemingly still expects a response and slaps your ass violently when he doesn't receive one, "you gunna answer me, slut?"

"i— ngh, shit—" you groan feebly into the floorboards, clawing at them in search of an inch of solace from bakugo's relentless attack on your abused hole. "uhm, i d— ah, don't— fuck!" you squeal, eyes screwing shut as his fat cock rams the words right out of your brain. frankly you have no idea what you were going to say, or even what the question was.

"fucked you dumb already, huh? you're a pretty useless whore if you can't handle big dick." he says gruffly, gripping your ass and spreading your cheeks to admire your other needy hole. he smirks at the idea that occurs to him, and then gargles slightly before spitting straight on it. using his finger to maneuver it over your entrance, his own saliva serves as lubricant for when he plunges his thumb straight into your ass. resulting in your whole body tensing, and your pussy specifically clamping down on his cock, and drawing a stifled grunt from him, "oh, you like that? never taken it up the ass before?"

his hips move simultaneously with his thumb that continues to slam into your puckered asshole. meanwhile, his dick splits you open with a determination and urgency you've likely never seen from him before. it's like he's got some sort of undying hatred welling within him that he needs to expel; he truly fucks you like he's mad at you.

and if you didn't know any better, you might think he is with all the crude comments he mutters under his breath while his eyes are zero'd in on your tight hole swallowing him and spitting him out repeatedly, "stupid bitch.." he grumbles, almost panting from the way he rapidly rutted into you, "don't know what you fucking do t' me."

something about his rude and degrading words causing the coil contorting in your stomach to finally snap, releasing a swarm of molten ecstasy that courses through you. this overwhelming pleasure cleared any coherent thought in your mind and must've nullified any sense you had left, as your arms suddenly go limp and your torso drops towards the floor. when the blazing heat reaches your pussy, your walls begin to constrict and spasm around his already aching cock.

now it was his turn to whine and heave like a bitch in heat. he unplug his thumb from your ass so he can plant both his hands on your hips to keep you from squirming away, "shit, baby.." he coughed, closing his eyes so he could properly savour the feeling of your tight pussy fluttering around his length, "just stay like that for me. c'mon."

he groans, and you lay exhausted, with your ass still up for him to continue thrusting into your worn, dripping hole, desperately chasing his high. "fuck, (y/n). 'm right there." he hisses, hand gripping onto your ass for dear life. while the other one moves to sloppily circle your clit; each movement was jaded and rushed, as though this was his attempt to thank you for letting him use you like a cocksleeve. "so good f' me. stay like that. tight little cumdump."

and it's as though the mere mention of cum was a trigger word, that had him toppling over the edge of his climax in seconds. you both let out matching sighs as his cock went limp inside your snug walls, depositing his seed deep inside you, where it belonged. although you were largely desensitised with the various fluids pooling in your pussy already.

"shit." he curses, hastily removing his cock from you. despite how it was covered with your juices, he stuffs it back into his trousers and only cringes momentarily at the mess, before he notices that you're still in the doggy-style position. he chuckles and playfully smacks your ass, followed by a reassuring stroke, "think i'm done with that pretty hole now. relax."

you do as he says and collapse on the floor, letting your legs give out and resting your whole body, finally. you were so weak and strained that the discomfort of the hardwood didn't even faze you, truthfully you were just relieved to be able to rest your weary body.

"now that we're done: what's your damn problem? why were you pretending i was some pizza delivery guy?" he barked, fierce tone in stark contrast to the way his hands loving caressed your back, "you'd rather fuck some stranger than you're own damn boyfriend?"

"it's just roleplay, katsuki." you rumbled, turning your head to rest on the other cheek so you didn't have to face him, "for funsies."

" 'funsies'. right." he tutted, exhaling sharply out his nose before scooping you up in his strong arms and carrying your spent figure bridal-style over to the sofa, before carelessly plopping you down, like he always does. however, you've caught onto his little trick and were quick enough this time to grab his collar before he dropped you, causing him to jerk down with you.

"fuck!" he hollered at your antics, crashing down on top of you, while you simply cackled.

A ravenous growl rumbles through him, the saccharine droplets of slick quickly swiping across his nose bridge, coating his cheeks in your aroma. His long pink tongue flicks out to slot between your lips, kitten licking a trail of salvia up your slit.

“Tastes so fuckin’ sweet baby,” he’s moaning, the sounds muffled by the weight of your entrance fully smothering him, yet he’s loud enough for you to hear him, voice low and vibrating your clit, “stop movin’ ‘n lemme take care of my girls.”

Licking and slurping, the noises fill the bedroom, silky wetness so egregious it rivals the sobs slipping from your shocked face. “Katsuki!” It’s astonishing how easily he holds you still, even as your legs completely give out beneath you. Bulging biceps hardening against your thighs and lifting you up, up, up! to the ceiling, gripping you perfectly in place to lick your walls clean of sap.

“Thinkin’ you’d hurt me? That I can’t handle you?” He’s questioning, tongue sliding down to your tight hole, digging the flicking the fat muscle up into it, “would let you kill me as long as you were the one askin’, baby.”

The gravity only works you closer, body caging in your hips to rock against his mouth, skilled tongue diggin’ in and out of your clenched hole, the button of his nose smushing into your clit. “Oh Kats, s-shit! I—too much! C-Can feel you everywhere!”

Holding onto the headboard for dear life, the wood grain begins to squeak at the hinges, soft nipples hardening when you press yourself tightly against it, the cold texture sending shivers down your spine.

“Can’t help it,” Katsuki's tongue travels back up towards your clit, placing a sloppy kiss to the warm bud, “tastes so damn good, baby.”

You throw your head down to the top of the headboard, drool collecting at the sides of your mouth. Squishy cheeks pressing deeply into grain in an attempt to stifle your moans, eyes slamming shut to savor the feeling of him absolutely ravishing your sex.

He looks up, passionate crimson eyes squinting and blond brows furrowing when he can’t find your face looking down at him. “Oi!” His strong arms prod at your thick hips, swiftly pulling you further down to his chin, your body tumbling backwards.

“H-Huh?” You should have never underestimated his strength, large hands easily spaying around your ass to throw you around like a ragdoll, fingers white knuckling at the soft flesh he grips snug to his mouth. “W-Wha—”

“—Quit hidin’,” he mumbles, teeth nipping at your inner thighs, placing a graphic porno-sounding kiss to the skin, the slick residue from his swollen mouth painting your skin, “needa hear you screamin’ so I know I’m doin’ a damn good job.”

Biting your lip, you rapidly nod down at him, jaw falling open as he begins to rock you on his lips, pink tongue flattening on your slit and applying even pressure.

“K-Kats—mmfuck! Gettin’ close.” Your voice comes out high pitched, a sinful moan roaring from the back of your aching throat, fingertips hooking into the hair sticking to his sweaty forehead to rock against him, mouth perfectly rolling the gooey flesh of your clit.

“Take what ya want from me, know you deserve it,” he’s grumbling beneath you, hand reaching up to spay on your tummy, digits traveling up your navel and towards your breasts, fingers rolling around your nipple. “Know you’re close baby, give it to me, yeah?”

Katsuki knows the exact moment you finally break, head thrown back with a sob, your slick coats his face, hips rapidly rolling fast around the slope of his nose to ride out your high, cunt drenching his face full of your glistening essence.

“Tsuki—Stop!” The high hits you much harder than usual, the strong pink muscle pulling every last ounce of pleasure out of your sore clit, causing you to jump off his face with a yelp, “too much!”

“Where you goin’,” he scoffs beneath you, palms massaging the soft flesh of your ass to anchor you back down, his tongue finding your used hole, “‘m not done yet, come ‘ere.”

It all started with that damned house dress, the one you slipped on just as you tumbled out of bed, body completely bare beneath the silk.

Seeing you standing in the kitchen swirling sticky honey into a steaming mug, every last sense of rationale Shoto Todoroki had left inside of him quickly evaporates, leaving the man at a standstill in the doorway. It’s as if he was still stuck in a dream, a dizzy bout of sleep walking he doesn’t dare pinch himself awake from.

Shoto’s legs move on their own accord, bare feet stepping off the tatami towards you. The hardwood flooring speaks before he can, the paneling creaking beneath his heavy frame.

“Shoto?” You’re asking, popping your head over your shoulder, and when you see him standing in the doorway, you're smiling—eyes wide as saucers.

You twirl around to greet him, skirt easing off your hips as the fabric swishes in the air, “was getting started on some tea, I know you like to make it but I thought I’d surprise you.”

Shoto can’t speak.

Not when you’re looking at him like that.

Shoto desperately wants to fill the empty void due to his lack of response, yet every word falls flat on his lips, heterochromia irises far too focused on your presence to think of anything else.

It wasn’t like you were wearing anything special. The airy, cloud-white garment hung loosely on your frame, chantilly lace wrapping around the swell of your breasts matching the hem at your hips, the length cutting off just above the small divot between your thighs.

You looked angelic, and when the sunlight cut through the opened window, warm hues dancing over your features like a painting, Shoto found himself tumbling down to his knees.

“Sho? Are you okay?” Gasping, your hands grip his forearms, the stocky man easily wrapping himself around your front, red and white hair spaying over your abdomen.

He can only find it in himself to shake his head ‘no’, hands fisting the fabric on your thighs, lips pouting into the silkened garment. “I love you.”

You laugh, fingertips grazing the hair out of his eyes, his chin digging into the soft spot just below your navel, feeling his warmth surround your skin. “I love you enough that I want you to get off the floor,” teasing him, you reaching behind you to turn off the stove, giving him your full attention. “You’re looking at me like you’re going to eat me alive or something.”

Oh? But I am.

The words linger, never daring to leave his mouth.

It’s unfair, he thinks. Everything about you is so perfect. You always know exactly what to say whenever there’s an uncomfortable beat of silence, how you’re so kind to everyone you meet—including himself, showing your appreciation in the small moments that many others would ignore.

Shoto can feel his heart swell in his chest, blood pooling to his ears, the tips surely shining the brightest shade of merlot.

“Love when you wear this,” he mutters, head bowing to place a chaste kiss to each thigh, soft lips mumbling into the flesh, “you are beautiful.”

“I’m glad you like it, Sho.”

I’d like to rip it off.

He’d buy you ten more if he could; if you’d let him that is, all to tear the flimsy fabric to shreds, a shameless cycle of his devotion to you.

Shoto doesn’t realize his hands have fallen onto your legs, palms gliding smooth over the skin, hands massaging your hips. He kneads the skin just to feel the way it pebbles beneath his grip, the slightest hint of your blood thumping through your veins instantly grounding him in you.

“Sho,” it’s your turn to grip at the fabric, body flushing with the tiniest bit of warmth that pools in your belly at his groping, the hem treading just above your bare mound, “d-don’t know what’s happening but—”

“—You.” He’s growling, voice slicked in the same way the honey sticks to the forgotten ceramic mug, face diving between your legs.

Shoto doesn’t ask as he’s spreading you open, tongue indulging in the way your silky slit coats his tastebuds, the heady flavor causing him to moan, voice shaking. “You happened.”

Taken aback, the sheer force of his greedy muscle licking you clean makes your hands shamelessly bundle the fabric frantically off your hips to gaze down at the starving man, his eyes closed to focus on funneling his tongue deep inside of you.

“Shoto! Oh my god! W-What are you—”

“—Showing you how much I love you.”

Your cunt was his altar, the delightful sap-like nectar seeping out from your drenched folds his savior, lapping the honey slick as if it’s his last meal on earth, one to praise and devour all at the same time.

“Love you,” he’s moaning, reddened tongue making out with your sex as if it was another pair of your lips he was kissing instead, mouth moving in tangent with his words, “love you so much.”

“Sho! Love you too, l-love your mouth.”

“Keep talking,” he smiles, head bowing up and down with each fat lick to your cunt, his tongue prodding the fleshy bits of your sensitive nub, pleasure blossoming in your upper thighs, “tell me how you’re feeling, honey.”

“Wha—I can’t!”

Not when he’s devouring you with a fever you can’t seem to recognize. Tongue soft and sweet; licking every little crevice between your legs, mouth taking every last rational thought from your mind out of your body with a suckle to your clit.

“Please,” he’s begging, widened pupils gazing up at your fucked out face, “tell me what you love about it, talk me through it.”

In fear of him halting his moments, you’re talking faster than you can think, words shakily fumbling out of your withering chest. “Your mouth,” you moan, thighs shaking at the force of him kitten licking your clit, “a-always take your time—shit! So warm ‘n soft.”

“Keep going, love.”

His hands move you easily, arching your hips to allow his long tongue to plug its way into your aching hole, the action causing you to squeak. “Oh your hands Shoto! Love your hands s-so much.”

“Want me to use them?” He asks gently, dominant hand leaving your hips to prod at your entrance, anxiously awaiting your approval.

How could you possibly tell him no?

“Please.”

His finger dips between your lips, the digit easily swallowing up past your entrance from how wet it is, knuckles pressing into you with a ‘squelch’. He pistons it in and out of your hole, tongue latching on your clit to create a seal, loud slurping sounds echoing from damp skin.

It would be dirty if it was anyone else other than Shoto.

“Shoto! D-Don’t stop—please, please don’t stopppp.” Tears are brimming the corners of your eyes as he adds another finger to the equation, fingerprints curling up into your g-spot to brush the point of no return, your sobs turning into wails of pleasure.

“Close? I can feel you squeezing.”

“Yes, yes!” You were stricken by some life altering hysteria, mind utterly preoccupied by the way Shoto worked your cunt wide open, “want—gonna cum in your mouth.”

“Go ahead, I’ll take care of you,” he’s whispering, mouth muffled by the sound of your pussy, nose deep into the puffy flesh of your mound.

Clammy fingertips grasp at his hair, gripping a handful of hair to roll your hips against him. You’re not sure what you're going for, yet nonetheless you chase it, curses falling from your slacked mouth. “Shit, shit, cumming!”

The sensation hits you all at once, Shoto’s hands, his mouth. He will always take care of you, always worship you, even in the kitchen on his hands and knees in the early hours of the morning.

Flurries of sputtering stars burst behind your eyes, Shoto’s hand holding you in place as you ride it out, hips shaking, spine aching.

When he finally pulls away, licking your slick off his lips he’s smiling, hands finding yours.

His fingers are wet. Your tea still isn’t made.

Izuku Midoriya's been waiting for this all day long, discovering you tucked snugly in bed awaiting for him to finally come home, your frame slowly snoozing between the sheets.

His tartan suit was half way off, beige dress coat hanging over the peg of the bed frame, white sleeves of his button up rolled past his elbows, work badge still hanging from his stocky chest.

He’d woken you up in a daze, scarred hands spreading your legs wide open for him, cunt gleaming in the lowlight of the yellow lamp, your nightie barley clinging to your skin.

“Was waiting up for you, didn’t think you’d be so late,” you’re mumbling, voice shy.

He gleams. Of course you waited for him, cunt leaking and begging to be touched, holes ready for him to toy with.

“I’m sorry baby, a-and thank you for being so patient,” he’s murmuring into your neck, taking a deep breath and smiling when he smells traces of his body wash on your skin, “want to make it up to you, will you let me?”

An hour later he had you fully awake and stretched out for him, knees kissing either side of the mattress with his favorite green hued plug popped inside your tight ass, the customized authentic jade gemstone poking out between your cheeks.

“How are you feeling?” Izuku asks, face inches away from your cunt, watching the soft rise and fall of your belly, pussy dripping slick down to the white sheets.

“G-Good,” you’re stuttering, tight ring clenching the metal protrusion inside of you, words glued to your tongue so nicely; gooey mind worried you’ll say the wrong thing starting to scare you, “feels really good ‘zuku.”

“Good.” He parrots, running two fingers that rest on your knee up towards the inside of your thigh, the soft skin feeling like butter on his calloused fingerprints. “I think you’re ready for something else though, aren’t you?”

“Y-Your mouth? Please?” Your woozy eyes look down at him, body shivering as goosebumps erupt everywhere he’s touching you, a hopeful dopey smile spreading on your shiny cheeks.

“You’re silly,” he’s almost chuckling, chest swooning at how devoted you are to him, mind and body completely vulnerable to his heavy presence.

His fingers dip into the crevice just beside your mound, trailing a ghost-like touch up and down to watch you writhe against the mattress, nipples hardening in the dim lighting.

Two fingers lightly touch your clit, the thick digits forcing your slit wideee open, the sloppy sounds of your lips widening to fit him forces your sensitive body to heat up in embarrassment, face smushing into the side of your pillow.

“A-And you’re mean,” mumbling, you suddenly jump at the contact, a firm slaaaappp! landing down on your clit. “Izuku!”

You feel your clit begin to throb, the rapid heartbeat in your chest traveling down to the aching bundle of nerves as he goes right back to massaging it, his eyes absorbing your wild reaction.

Clenching down, the plug presses itself even deeper inside you, the cold metal working its way around your ass, the width squeezing around your sensitive walls.

Izuku goes back to massaging your clit, the soft touch doing little to stimulate it, hips jerking up to reach his touch.

He pulls back, slotting the slick coated fingers into his lips, tongue licking them clean. “Mean? You think this is mean?”

Suddenly, two thick digits are plunging into your cunt, walls clenching down around the protrusions, hot womb easily sucking him in, fingertips hitching knuckles deep.

“Fuck!” You’re mewling, head thrashing.

You wanted him to be inside you think, mind woozy as your holes become equally filled, the pressure of the large plug shifting his chunky knuckles up towards your g-spot—still not fully touching it, yet letting you feel that he’s there.

“Still so tight,” he’s observing, watching the way your pussy expands to take his fingers, the tight lil’ hole squelching for attention around them. “Can feel you sucking me in… feels good, doesn’t it?”

You can’t respond as another finger joins your slit, the pointer finger long and prodding as it slips inside, the stretch forcing a cry out of your dry mouth.

Izuku talks you through it, tells you just how good you’re doing for him, coaxing your body to relax for him, now three fingers deep.

“Let me in, you’re almost there.”

“Doing so good for me, baby. Look so pretty stuffed full of me.”

“You trust me, right?”

You focus on his words, body contorting around his intrusion deep inside of you, fully relaxed to take whatever he gives you.

“Izuku?” The pain quickly blooms into pleasure, an uncomfortable sensation building deep inside your core causing you to beg. “Want your mouth so bad Izuku, e-everything feels too tight—too full!”

Izuku almost feels pity for you.

His pretty baby begging for release, pleading for a smidge of attention from him.

“Since you’ve been so good tonight, maybe I’ll give you what you want?” He’s coaxing you to say what he wants to hear, emerald green eyes laser focused on the soft prodding of your squishy mound, fingers swabbin’ around in your gushy insides like he’s trying to memorize the ridges of your canal.

“Please Izuku,” wishfully thinking, your words slur, spine arching off the bed to greet his freckled cheeks, warm breath tickling your slit.

He places a kiss on your clit just to watch you squeak, eyebrows raising down at you like a hawk watching his prey. “Please what? Use your words.”

“Please use your mouth,” you’re whining, yet he doesn’t move, your eyes widening, “Izuku, can you please u-use your mouth and…”

“Go on.”

He wants to hear you say it out loud. The very words that always cause you to shy away from him, the perverse nature of the descriptions of what you desperately crave from him heating your body up.

“Please eat me out.”

You must really want to cum tonight Izuku’s thinking, his thighs tensing at how sweetly you’re asking, wide eyes gleaming over with sex.

He doesn’t respond, and right when you believe he’s about to stand up from between your legs, an arm anchors around your lower belly, mouth diving in between your legs.

Izuku is messy with it. All tongue and meticulous direction, he teeters between light swiping and harsh sucking against your nub, fully coating himself in slick.

“Mppf! Zu! Oh god!”

He’s purposely holding you from bucking off the mattress, rather having you thrust around in his grasp to feel how his pleasure blooms throughout your body.

His large fingers reach spots inside of you yours could never, rapidly flicking up into your spongey g-spot, he easily stretches out the muscle to take what he wants.

“I’m close—”

“—already? Such a good girl.” He has a way with making you hold on to every word he says, Izuku’s heavy presence invading your space in every way possible.

The only thing you can picture is him, the way his fingers smooch your pussy, tongue licking your clit; even down to the plug, stuffing you completely, all because he asked so nicely.

“Izuku, Izuku, Izuku!” You’re the fullest you’ve ever been in your life, tummy bulging as he flicks his fingers up, the depth so strong you can almost taste it.

You throw your head back, eyes slamming shut to devote yourself in the feeling, your high coming head on, body unable to escape the way its throwing you off the edge.

“Don’t go shy on me now, look at me.” Izuku’s pulling you from that ledge, dripping eyes peering up at him in awe, irises daring to roll back into your skull as he eats you like an animal, fingers scooping your cunt.

“There she is, mmmm my pretty girl,” he hums in approval, the vibrations heading straight to your clit, thighs shaking. Izuku notices, forearm pressing roughly into your lower belly, “oh baby, you’re so close, do you want to cum?”

Izuku is attentive, calculating the best possible outcome using your cunt as his test subject as the feeling takes over you, thighs tensing, toes curling.

“Yes, yes, yes! Please Izuku!” Mumbling, you get lost in the moment once he’s pressing his lips roughly to your clit, the pleasure overbearing, jaw dropping, mouth going silent.

“Go ahead honey,” he’s mumbling, fingers fucking your g-spot, your body breaking beneath him, “because after this one, you’ll give me another, right?”

“Fuck!” You’re nodding, mind blacking out into perpetual bliss, completely unaware the night is just getting started.

“Babe… didn't realize you were this wet, would’ve left Sero's place like hours ago.” Denki Kaminari can’t help but gawk at the painfully beautiful sight unfolding before him.

He’d been teasing you all evening, sitting you prettily on top of his lap whilst everyone else was far too focused on the movie playing in front of them to realize he was rubbing your clit beneath the blanket spread on your legs.

Darling lil’ pussy lips soaking right through lace panties, the skirt you wore granting him easy access as he dipped two fingers between them, pressing the fabric snugly into your slippery clit.

It was blatantly obvious when you were about to finally cum. Body twitching on top of him, legs shaking and muscles flexing. Each attempt to hide your mewls by chewing loudly on pieces of popcorn or sipping your drink, Denki would quietly laugh in your ear, gold earring cold against your skin, as he’d quickly pull his hand away from the mess he’d made to rub at your thighs instead, wrinkled fingertips edging you to soaked oblivion.

When the movie was finally over and you were waddling around in a puddle of slick with legs like jelly, Denki rushed your goodbyes, swearing that he couldn’t get you home any faster.

Feverishly pulling you down onto the carpet of the living room, the anticipation of tasting you takes over him. Large hands flip your skirt above your belly, his golden locs situated snuggly between your legs to stare at the sloppy liquid pouring from your poor neglected pussy lips onto your panties, his mouth salivating at the sight.

“Stop teasin’ me,” you plead with him, the fabric so embarrassingly wet it nips at your heated slit, thighs uncontrollably sopping as Denki's tongue only makes it worse, a fat dribble of spit slopping against your covered cunt.

“I’m nottt—hey! If I knew it was this bad, I would've ate you out in the bathroom.” He’s laughing, voice sleazy, golden irises blown out and dark, pupils fully covering the amber hues.

His fingers pinch the fabric up, up, up! between your fat lips, watching them rapidly swallow up the material like they’re quenching for thirst, your fat cunt sticking out on the sides.

Gasping, you wiggle around in his grasp, hole pulsating and clit throbbing, your hips pressing up towards his nose, the slope catching on your covered clit. “You’re such a freak, a-and Sero’s a perv… he would’ve probably liked that shit.”

You can hear the same thick digits touching your lips begin to tug at the fabric, a dull ‘riiiiipppp’ screeching beneath you as he breaks the stingy fabric in two, leaving your bare glistening cunt shining in the darkness of the room.

“Not when I’m done with ya he won’t,” placing a slow lick from the bottom of your tight hole up to your sensitive clit, Denki groans at the taste, his own hips humping the floor, “it would suck having to buy him a new sink though.”

Your fingers find purchase in his hair, rolling the yellow tendrils between your hands in a tight grip, matching the hectic rolls of your hips to the lazy gyrations of his head.

“Fuck Denki!” You let out a relieved curse when he begins to suck on your clit, his wiggly tongue lapping every last drop of slick that falls from your hole, “I’m done replacing his furniture everytime we b-break it.”

“Want to-mfdph—I want to.” Denki's words are inaudible as he rapidly licks at your pussy, tongue getting completely lost in the feeling of your cunt rubbing his face raw, cheeks warm and covered in your essence.

You peer down at him, his eyes slammed shut as he shakes his head like a dog, mouth moving side to side. “What babe? C-Can't hear you over your sloppy mouth.”

“Shit,” he’s gasping, head coming up for air just long enough to take a sharp breath, his finger finding your neglected hole, “wanna fuck you in every room in his house, show everyone who you belong to.”

“Oh Denki, everyone already kno—oh, fuck!”

His finger instantly flicks up into your gummy g-spot, mouth latching on your clit to lap at the flesh as if he needs to taste you to survive, skilled tongue flicking up and down your sensitive bud.

“Denki!” The familiar hitch jumps deep inside your core, body heating up as your thighs clench around his head, voice cracking, “gonna make me c-cum!”

“Fuckkk-please, give it to me.” Moaning, his cock head manically weeps through the fabric of his pants, the taste of your gushing cunt pushing him closer to the edge, your voice causing his balls to tense up.

Denki’s hips roughly fuck into the floor with such veroccity it jerks him forward, your body fully rocking aginst his fingers, the knuckles traveling further past your walls.

“M-More! Fuck—Please!”

He groans in approval, slipping another finger into your stuffed hole. The burning stretch causes your waterline to prickle with the faintest globes of tears, fingers alternating between gripping the frills of your skirt and the strands of his hair, body teetering on the edge of your high.

“C’mon, you’ve got it babe,” Denkis mumbling into your clit, words vibrating deep into the slippery flesh sending little dull bolts up and down your thighs, knees shaking beside his ears, “soak me—pleaseee, need to feel it-ruin me babe—”

Your voice cuts him off, a wild mantra of his name rapidly falling from your slacked maw as you cum against him, little volts of electricity swirling around the sensitive nerves in your mound, body rolling in ecstasy.

“Fuck babe, jus’ like that,” he’s mumbling, ripping off your swollen clit to watch your face as you fall apart on the floor, his hips stuttering on the pale carpeting beneath them, “aw, shit!”

Before he can realize what’s happening, Denki is cumming untouched with a whimper, mouth returning to lap at your release while his own creates a syrupy mess in his pants.

The pleasure quickly becomes painful, clammy hands gripping him by the head to pull him up towards your lips, locking him into a sloppy kiss.

You moan when you taste yourself on him, palm falling down to fumble his belt wide open, pulling his shaft out of the material and swipin’ your hand over his red beating cock, his cum sticky on your fingers.

“Fuuuck,” he mumbles between your lips, dragging his face down to rub between your neck, sticking your slick onto your skin, “should have done that at his place babe, n-next time I’m dragging you to the bathroom, I swear!”

Your hand grips down hard on his sensitive cock, releasing a whine from the overstimulated boy. “Can you please stop talking about your friends when you’re about to fuck me, please?”