Monitschka

slick with the messy mix of spit and cum, your fist glides up and down his cock. it doesn’t take long for you to find your groove, especially when he’s reacting so quickly, each moan telling you more than enough. his hands are on both of your asscheeks and your pussy’s dripping right in front of his face, and he’s not doing a damn thing about it.

“h-hey,” izuku tries, clearing his throat in hopes of regaining control over his shaking voice, “interrupting people when they’re—oh my god—when they’re talking is rude.”

you roll your eyes, roling your tongue over his tip. he moans shamelessly, hips desperately bucking up in delusion. just a little bit of action with your tongue and he thinks he’ll get a blowjob—please. izuku’s done nothing to deserve a gift like that right now; the position you’re in allows for him to slurp you up like a sundae, and yet, he hasn’t taken action.

“not finishing the meal in front of you is pretty rude, too.” you rock your hips forward and back, giving him a downright sinful view of the mess between your thighs. glossy strings of slick cling to your skin, just begging to be licked up, and then there’s your all too empty cunt.

izuku’s out of retorts and thinking only of how soft your hands are against his cock. the languid flick of your wrist is nothing but slow and smooth, just the way he likes it—oh, did a tear just run down his cheek?

all of the built up sensitivity makes him easy. he’s stumbling over his words now, jerking his hips up and gasping for breath. “‘m gonna cum again, baby. d-don’t slow down, please don’t slow down!”

while izuku’s cock is thickening and throbbing in your fist, you’re busy adjusting yourself, pulling your knees back so that your ass is now hovering over his face.

“i’m gonna cum,” he sobs, and the sound goes straight to your clit, “oh, fu—”

you plant your ass right onto his face, neglected pussy sliding against his open mouth. it feels like heaven when izuku groans at the contact, his tongue finally stroking along your dripping entrance. the overwhelming taste of sweetness is already too much, and then you start to move—rough and graceless, your hips rock over his face.

this is you taking what you want, and god, it’s hot.

cum spurts over your fingers in thick, creamy trails and he stops thrusting up, no longer trying to meet your hand as it comes down. he may be spent, but you’re nowhere near finished with him.

“damn, ‘zuku. i can’t believe you’re making me do all the work here.”

your boyfriend starts to whine between desperate licks against your cunt, much of his noise muffled by your ass covering his face. even after squeezing most of the cum out of him, you don’t slow down—he was the one who told you not to, right? (curiously, you want to see if throwing your ass back onto his face while overstimulating him will result in another orgasm.) now, he may be coming close to suffocating, but this is the kind of death he’d welcome with open arms. or, open mouths, in his case.

BAKUGO KATSUKI.

⟡ katsuki would never sit there and let you jerk him off until he’s shaking. why? because it won’t work, and because it’s ‘such a stupid idea and waste of time’. but maybe overstimulation isn’t so stupid when you’re riding him like a racehorse and bouncing those moans out.

“mhm, mhm,” katsuki’s gripping your hips and roughly guiding you along his cock, making sure that you’re keeping the pace. “atta girl, that’s real good. hah—been waiting for this all day.”

japan’s number five hero works hard every single day. katsuki’s constantly going on patrols, apprehending criminals, dealing with co-workers . . . it’s a lot, and he deserves a break from all of it.

your chest heaves, tits bouncing in his face, and he’s never been so enthralled. his cock is snug inside you and being squeezed tight by your clenching walls; even better, he’s about to empty himself out inside you. there’s so much to give you that he doesn’t even want to pull out too quickly, lest it all run out of you.

“k-katsuki,” you whine his name, nearly choking on it, “oh my god, you’re so deep. ‘s like i can feel you in my stomach.”

rough and large, one of katsuki’s palms comes to rest against the soft skin of your tummy. he chuckles gruffly, pressing into the slight bulge his cock makes inside of you. “that’s because i’m in there. you feel that, right here? is it too much for you?”

you nod, and he laughs, white teeth catching the light. they look sharp in his mouth, gleaming with something almost predatory. “that’s just too bad, huh? i’m about to fill up this pussy of yours, and you’re not gonna let a single drop leak out. is that clear or no?”

katsuki’s command doesn’t quite sound physically possible. if you were to get up and off of him, everything would spill down your thighs and make a not-so-sexy mess. you haven’t cum yet, and you also want to listen to him—maybe if you were to stay on his lap, you could make both things happen.

thinking you’re not listening, he smacks your ass and arches an expectant brow. you shake your head, throwing your arms over his shoulders to maintain balance, “i - yeah, i heard you. sit back and let me work my magic, kat. my break was too long, you didn’t tell me.”

his jaw clenches slightly. you can see that he’s biting his tongue, too close to the edge to be making any more snarky comments. there’s a faint shaking in both of his thighs, and you’re very interested in seeing if you can make it worse.

you’re bouncy as you ride his cock, slamming your ass down on him and putting on quite the show. of course, katsuki ends up reaching his high with a guttural groan of your name that dissolves into a series of curses and harsh breaths. seeing him fall apart is a delicious sight, and your thighs are starting to burn with exertion as you ride him through it, but then he lets out the lowest of whines.

katsuki, of all people? finally losing enough of his composure to stop holding back those amazing sounds? now you’re determined to pull more out of him, no matter the cost! exhaustion melts into exhilaration, and you’re bouncing on his cock with renewed vigor.

“fuck,” he chokes out, voice tight, “holy fuck, i just came”—katsuki’s fingers twitch and he reaches out to grab your hips, but he stops short—“g-god, what’s with you? not even gonna give me a damn break?”

you just shake your head, breathing hard. your palms are pressed against his chest now, and you’re looking at him like you want to eat him alive. “not yet, not until i—ngh, oh my god—i hear you stop holding yourself back.”

he just moans, broken and raw. “fuck do you mean i’m holding back?”

katsuki’s completely shaking now, his abs clenching with every single noise that escapes him. the air smells very faintly of burnt caramel but more so sweat and sex—little by little, he’s starting to unravel. “you know, y-you’re always gritting your teeth and grunting when it’s obvious you just feel embarrassed to make any other noise.”

he looks indignant, “i am not—” but he throws his head back, clearly overwhelmed, and the sudden whimper that slips out of his mouth completely betrays him. god, what the fuck are you doing to him? he hates that you’re right about him being slightly embarrassed but can’t muster a shred of anger or even a half-formed thought about it. you’re literally riding him stupid, and you can see when the realization of the moment registers in his brain.

the moment has really inflated your ego, and acting on impulse, you grab him by the the throat, which surprises both of you. katsuki’s eyes widen a fraction at the familiar action—he’s the one who’s supposed to be grabbing you—and startled, he accidentally whines. it’s louder than earlier and much filthier; he sees the excitement on your face and feels your pussy clench hard around him.

he’s too stunned to speak, not only by the way you’ve grabbed him but also by the sparks of arousal shooting up his spine in response. you only smirk at him, pleased by the sudden role reversal. “that’s what i’m talking about, kat. let me really hear how much you like it.”

TODOROKI SHOTO.

⟡ when you mention a little something about overstimulation, shoto isn’t entirely unfamiliar with the subject. he’s pretty sure he’s made you experience that before, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous for you to try it out on him..

shoto’s leg jerks like you’ve just used a reflex hammer on him. he can feel the warmth searing its way across his face when your eyes meet his, a smile playing on your lips like you aren’t stroking his cock at the moment.

he lets out something between a gasp and an exhale, biting at his lower lip. “sweetheart, do you really have to—f-fuck—look at me like that?”

“like what?” you ask coyly, leaning in so that your lips just barely graze against the sensitive tip of his cock. shoto’s all sticky, slick with a tantalizing mixture of sweat and too many orgasms to count; the quietest of whines slips out of him, and he tears his eyes away, averting them to a nearby couch cushion.

“like that,” he insists, at a loss for words, “like you’re doing anything but jerking me off right now. you know exactly what you’re doing to me, angel.”

you laugh at him. you actually laugh at him, as if he’s just said something funny—but it’s pretty hard to be indignant when you speed up as well. the flick of your wrist is smooth, almost a little lazy, but you don’t have to try too hard to get his heart racing. it’s embarrassing, honestly, the way he can feel his orgasm rising up in his gut—fast and hot, like fast-moving magma in a volcano.

“d-don’t look at me,” shoto says, sounding like he’s begging you not to, “hah, this is already too much for me.”

his cock twitches in your grip, thickening and throbbing under your touch. you’re working him like a fucking pro, stroking him the way he first taught you how to—but he never expected you to use those skills against him! shoto can’t quite tell if you’re tormenting him or not, but it definitely feels like it every time you coo his name.

“sho, baby,” just the sound of your voice causes a shudder to rock his entire body, making his shoulders roll forward, “i can’t look away, though. you always make this really hot face when you cum, and seeing it makes me feel like i’m right there with you. c’mon, look at me, i want to—”

there’s a choked, desperate moan only a second before hot cum spurts over your fingers in copious amounts. each burst is better than the last, especially because he just gets louder. soft gasps transform into pants of your name and groans that he’s no longer able to hold back. shoto can only squirm when you keep going, giggling as you use his cum as lube.

“oh, oh my god,” he’s bucking toward you and drawing back whenever you give him too much, so blissed out he’s not even sure what he wants anymore. “fuck, i can’t—w-wait, don’t stop.”

if there’s anything he’s sure of, it’s the fact that you’re gonna be the death of him one day. you giggle at him, squeezing tighter. “don’t stop? i thought it was don’t look.. make up your mind, sho.”

KAMINARI DENKI.

⟡ denki 100% thinks he’s gonna die when you walk in on him humping your pillow. like, what if you pull a fucking glock out from under the bed?? the last thing he expects you to do is ‘help’ him out, aka make him suffer a little.

a litany of pitched moans spills out of denki’s mouth before he can even think to stop it. right now, it’s just him, a homemade video of you throwing your ass back onto him, and the pillow he’s rutting his clothed cock into—but this isn’t just any pillow.

it’s your pillow, and your name is the only coherent thing on his lips.

“fuckfuckfuck—” denki’s panting lowly, cursing under his breath as he feels himself getting closer and closer to the edge; the audio from the video blasts through his headphones at full volume, the sounds of your giggles and his panting filling his ears. it’s so loud that he doesn’t even hear you step into the room, nor does he hear the way you say his name.

it’s only when he rips his eyes away from his phone to tilt his head up against the forming tears does he see you standing there with your arms crossed. denki can’t even throw the pillow to the side—not only have you seen him, you’ve probably noticed the large wet spot in his boxers with every rough pass of his hips.

“is that my pillow?” you ask, not breaking the eye contact with him. oh fuck, you’re getting onto the bed with him now—shit, and you’ve just taken your pillow away from him.

you’re looking over it, noticing the dampness of the colored pillowcase and the wrinkles on the sides from how hard he’d been gripping it.

“it’s not what it looks like!” denki tries weakly, sitting back on his knees and holding his hands up in surrender. “if you’d just hear me out—”

before he can even finish his sentence, your hand is on his cock and squeezing rather tightly—your thumb is just under his tip and pressing firmly, and even though you’re a little mad at him, it feels good. maybe it’s the way you’re grabbing him too tightly for him to escape, or it’s the unreadable glare and the heat behind it, but he cums, right then and there.

“you’re such a slut, baby,” it’s the first thing out of your mouth as you start to carelessly tug on his cock, turning his boxers into more of a mess. hot and thick, cum soaks through the fabric. some of it gets onto your hand, but you don’t give a damn—you’re a lot more focused on the sounds that he’s making in response to your words. “i knew you were desperate, but c’mon, denki,” you say his name with so much vitriol that he feels it in the very tip of his cock, “i said i’d be home in an hour, and that you could do whatever you wanted to me. but nooo, you decide to fuck my pillow instead. you have to admit how pathetic that is, baby.”

denki sucks in a breath, desperate for the air that’s escaping his lungs, “h-hey, it’s not my fault, it’s yours. you were taking too long and—ngh, shit, don’t squeeze so tight! ‘m still sensitive—”

“what, you’re gonna cum again?” you roll your eyes, giggling at the way his hips chase your hand when you pull it back, “i should just sit here and make you get yourself off. why should i even help you, hm?”

“you’re literally so mean,” his hiss turns into a yelp when you do squeeze him more roughly, sliding your fist down in the process. both on the inside and outside, his boxers are a complete mess: sticky with splotches of cum and full of his leaking cock. “i didn’t even get a break, you can’t just—”

with a smirk on your face, you just sit back and watch him cum again, but this time, you let go. denki can’t even finish his sentence before he’s gushing into his ruined boxers, hips rutting blindly into the air and searching for your grasp on him. the stinging overstimulation kicks in before the bliss can end and he’s left shuddering, with his teeth clicking together.

he actually lets out a little whimper, of all things, when you reach toward his waistband and completely ignore the way he draws his hips back.

“let’s see if i can help you remember not to mess with my pillows this time, okay? you could really use a reminder of why you should be patient, denki.”

AMAJIKI TAMAKI.

⟡ tamaki is NOT innocent, even if he acts like he is. he knows what he’s doing when he’s grinding against you in the store, or ‘accidentally’ turning chaste kisses into ones with tongue. the only way you’re able to get him under control is to throat his dick in a place that’s a little more public than private.

tamaki can only shudder as you pull off of him to cough, his cock hanging slick and sensitive between his thighs. even after one of your rougher blowjobs, he’s still hard and waiting for the next round of your punishment. you glare up at him, fuming, and he’s never been so excited.

“i’m so done with you,” you huff, harshly wiping away the spit on your chin. your throat is a little sore from choking on his dick, but it’s nothing compared to the mix of pleasure and pain he’ll be feeling when you get your mouth on him again. with the back of your hand, you hit him right where it should hurt, and tamaki just moans, his hips thrusting forward. you scoff, voice nothing short of lewd and dripping with absolute contempt. “god, you’re the definition of a slut.”

“well, what about you?” he murmurs in a tone that you don’t like in the slightest, the tips of his ears flushing a deeper pink. “you’re the one who’s on her knees behind a car in a busy parking lot.”

they’re fighting words, but you can sniff out the weakness behind them. tamaki’s trying and failing to be a brat; you grab his cock by the base, your grip firm and leaving no room for resistance.

“what was that? i’d love for you to repeat what you just said.”

you begin to stand up, the soles of your shoes scuffing against the pavement. his hands are on your shoulders and desperate as he tries to ease you back down, shaking his head frantically. he’s obviously backpedaling, rethinking what he said and anything that could fix it.

“nonono, please,” tamaki’s breathless, his expression pulling into one of unadulterated need, “i-i didn’t mean to—don’t leave me like this.”

another please trembles on his lips. you give him some grace by taking the tip of his cock between your lips, tongue grazing along the underside of it. tamaki barely deserves this—that little freak was practically humping you in the store, sidling up behind you and pressing his hips into your ass so you could feel that half-hard cock of his. to anyone passing by, this would look like a full body hug, but you knew exactly what it was, and it was quite the opposite of an innocent embrace.

he slides further down your throat and winces a little at the sensation. he’s still sensitive from a few minutes ago and not ready to cum again, especially so soon, but being without your mouth would hurt a lot more. in the distance, a few people walk past the row of cars yours is parked in, unsuspecting and completely unaware of the filth in their vicinity.

holding him by the base of his cock, you exhale and pull back, voice slightly raspy. “we’ll deal with this fully once we get home, but right now? i want you to cum in thirty seconds or you’re gonna wait.”

tamaki doesn’t question you. he only nods feverishly and bites his tongue, afraid to say something wrong again. after all, it’s a lot easier to shut up and listen rather than try and talk back. you’re back to slurping his cock again, and all he can think about is how good you look like this.

eyes hooded, cheeks bulging, lips glossy with spit—shit, he could cum just from looking at you. the thirty second rule is about to become the ten second rule . . and it does, when your eyes meet his and something shifts inside of him.

you taste his cum before you hear him warn you. he paints your throat white, falling over the edge with a loud groan that breaks into softer whines and eventually whimpers. afraid of overstimulation, tamaki starts to draw his hips back, gasping only when you warn him not to with a slight clenching of your teeth around his cock.

“woah, woah woah woah—hold on! h-hey, i thought you wanted to go home after this,” tamaki grabs onto the car for support as you continue sucking his soul out through his dick, too shaken up to register the heat of the surface. “um, isn’t it a bit hot out here? shouldn’t we get in the ca—ahh—r?”

he shudders despite the heat he just mentioned, shaken by your determination to keep going. right now, he’s walking a very fine line between stinging pain and fading pleasure—every slurp of his cock tugs him further to either edge, but all he can do is take it. how else could you punish him for being such a slut in the store earlier?

TAKAMI KEIGO.

⟡ whenever you offer to ‘take care’ of him, keigo knows exactly what you’re getting at and always flips it around so that you’re the one who ends up crying. but once you make him cum once, the rest come very easily.

“okay, i’m begging now, this is me begging,” tears roll down keigo’s temples when he arches his back, trying in vain to free himself. “d-don’t, not again. baby, i thought you said you hated when i cry.”

light as a feather and ticklish, the tips of your fingers trail down his muscular chest just to tease. “that’s only when you’re hurt or i can’t comfort you, kei. these are sexy tears.”

half tucked just under his body, keigo’s wings flap slowly but powerfully, blowing air and stray feathers all around the room. he’s trying his hardest to keep them under control, but it’s damn near impossible with you straddling him.

“ugh, fuck—stop it, i want to cum inside you,” he whines as you start to grind down on him again, pussy sliding slick and smooth over his cum-covered cock. thanks to you, keigo’s made quite the mess on himself—white streaks cover much of his pelvis and lower belly, while the excess trickles down his inner thighs. “no way you’re gonna do this to me again.”

“c’mon, kei,” you murmur, circling your hips over the tip of his cock in a suspicious pattern that seems to spell something out, “just one more, please? can you do that for me, keigo?”

“you can’t say it like that and expect me to say no,” he hiccups as you brush a few stray hairs out of his face, your touch impossibly gentle and completely opposite to the way you’ve been treating him. first, you tied him to the headboard and started with a blowjob—but then you figured it’d be more exciting to hop into his lap and see how many times you could make him fall apart without putting him inside you.

it feels like keigo’s soul is about to leave him when you start up with the praise and cooing of his name. it makes all of his frustration melt away, and it’s so dangerous because it makes him want to listen. you could say anything in that tone while kissing his jaw or cradling the side of his face and he’d do whatever you asked him to.

some of the longer feathers of his wings brush lightly against your jaw as they flap again, struggling to stay still. “you’re killing me,” keigo gasps, strained, his hips jerking up, “i need you to ride me already, dovey.”

you pull back when he pushes forward, smirking with amusement. keigo’s tied up and genuinely begging (though it could be more desperate), even though you both know he could escape if he really wanted to. if he were truly as frustrated as he says, he would slice the soft rope binding his wrists and fuck you into the next god damn day.

but he doesn’t.

keigo likes when you’re in control and deciding how he should cum, even if it’s not always the way he wants. you continue, settling back into position. by the last strange swirl of your hips, he’s realized that you’ve spelt out your name on him, similar to the way that he does when he’s eating you out.

he thought he couldn’t for at least a little while, but he clearly thought wrong. keigo cums right then and there, his cock spurting warmth all over your pussy and contributing to the mess.

“f-fuck, i’m cumming,” his jaw is dropped and a small amount of confusion seeps into his expression, though it’s mostly covered up by the euphoria.

“that was certainly . . fast, keigo,” you giggle while he moans thoughtlessly, his teary eyes squeezing shut as he rides out his high, body trembling and all. now, you could untie him and let him fuck you, but where’s the fun in that? where’s the control? you know both of you would enjoy it more if he was left tied up and you rode him into oblivion instead.

someway, somehow, he’s still spilling cum even as you grab his twitching cock and sit on it. keigo lets out a delicious noise at the feel of you wrapped around his cock, his throat bobbing and shiny with sweat in the light.

“god, you’re so big,” the compliment goes straight to his dick and makes him moan even louder, his chest rapidly rising and falling. his pupils are blown when he opens his eyes again, squinting at you through the tears like you’re straight out of his favorite fantasy.

“y-you gotta sit for a second, dovey, it’s too much. ‘m actually empty right now, can’t cum again.”

keigo lets out a sob the moment you start moving, ass bouncing off his thighs while his cock goes deep. he starts running his mouth, babbling teary nonsense about how it’s too much—he almost shuts up once you lean over him, allowing him to press his face into your neck.