Kaiju No.8 Scenarios: How They React To Fem! S/o Overheating During Combat

satosugu & their favorite lady ♡ poly head cannons

`⭐︎ ˑ ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ bc who doesn't love when their two boyfriends are also bf + bf?

nsfw mdni; fem!reader, 3sum, anäl, dbl. penētration, oral, yaoi, use of pet names

poor suguru, having to work overtime to keep the two of you in check—your unyielding energy bounces off of satoru's childlike enthusiasm, creating quite an unhinged environment. and of course geto switches into dad-mode when it comes to y'all, but he wouldn't have it any other way...not willing to give up what he has, loving how silly his lovers are.

satoru’s definitely the physical touch lover while suguru handles words of affirmation: they take turns showering you in praise in the form of soft touches and gentle kisses while they removing your clothes, two sets of hands running up and down your soft skin.

this dynamic also manifests in public, with satoru being your go-to for steamy dancing and drunken make-out sessions in the middle of the club, while suguru sits observantly at a table off to the side.

when he finally feels that it’s time to go, he’ll join the two of you on the dance floor, his chest pressed flush with your back as you continue to lock lips with satoru. you grind against him, assuming he's finally joining in on all the fun. but his hands pull at your hips before running up your body and cupping the underside of your jaw, quite literally having to peel your mouth away from satoru's. "hey...wha- i wasn't done," you grumble. suguru only chuckles in response. "let's get outta here, you two..." he mumbles. satoru attempts to reconnect his lips with yours before a stern "satoru," rumbles from suguru's chest. your blue-eyed lover pouts, of course, before reluctantly agreeing.

suguru loves hitting it from the back while you suck satoru off, the sloppy sounds of both your holes filling the heady air the room as the three of you chase your releases

and of course, satoru would get creative and suggest a challenge, a little competition to see who finishes first, just for funsies; "bet i'd last the longest". he'd be so fucking smug about it, too. and nine times out of ten, you and suguru would create an alliance and work together to literally break satoru; not only does he finish first but he cums over, and over, and over again. you and sugu take turns bringing him to his breaking point, and after his third orgasm, he's begging to switch so he can get one of you off instead. but you just can't stop. and why would you? he just looks so pretty as his hips buck off the bed, sweat glistening on his skin with his flustered cheeks and swollen lips, while his body trembles with every gasping breath. you swear he does this shit on purpose, plotting for this outcome because he's been feeling super needy lately.

they just love pleasing their precious girl

you're straddling suguru, your forearms resting against his chest as your nails dig into his skin. satoru is pounding into you from behind, his hands anchored on your hips. he tucks his chin into his clavicle to watch as your gushing cunt sucks him in so greedily. suguru pulls your head down, your cheek resting against his shoulder as his fingers reach under you to play with your clit, sultry words of praise leaving his lips and going straight to your listening ears, "feels good, doesn't it baby? uh uh, don't move. keep takin' him...y'doin so good." you whimper as toru’s impressive length reaches unimaginable depths inside you, the sweet squelches of your needy pussy spurring him on as he drives into you even harder. sugu’s fingers keep working at your throbbing clit while you bite and suck on his neck, interrupted by the symphony of soft ahh’s and ooo’s falling from your swollen lips. a few more rough thrusts and rapid circles against your clit and you’re falling apart on satoru’s cock, spraying all over the their thighs. you gasp and whine when you feel satoru pull out, only for suguru to lift you up and quickly take his place, sheathing himself in your pulsing walls. “you ready, baby?” you glance over you shoulder, watching as satoru sucks his fingers into his mouth, a cheeky smirk on his face, your cock drunk brain too dizzy to respond. you nod, groaning at the feeling of his long, slender digits playing with your ass, dipping in to the second knuckle. satoru works to stretch you out in preparation for you to take them both. your face contorts at the dull ache. "look at me...focus on me, princess," suguru rasps, redirecting your attention to him as he slowly pumps in and out of your gummy walls. your nails scratch down his chest as you rest your forehead against his, breathing deeply in an attempt to relax your body for the inevitable stretch. you already feel so full, your pussy absolutely drenched, your arousal dribbling out around sugu’s girth, but you grow even wetter in anticipation for your two boyfriends to take you at the same time

and if you thought it would be a peaceful transition into sleep after y'all finish fucking, you would be sorely mistaken...the three of you constantly fight for the middle spot in the bed. correction, you and satoru are the ones bickering. as the two of you argue, suguru finds his place and waits for y'all to follow suit, and more often than not, it's suguru in the middle, laying on his back, as you and satoru tuck yourselves under each of his arms and curling into his side, legs thrown over his waist.

it's a very balanced relationship. the three of y'all have your designated nights to cook dinner, your assigned spots on the couch (though you occasionally fight over what to watch), a copasetic routine for showering, going to work, running errands together. and when one of y'all is out of town for work, the two left over keep each other company. it's perfect, a home full of love and laughter.

y'all loooove having threesomes, but sometimes it's too much logistically. and that's totally fine...nothing wrong with some one on one action, whether it be you and toru or sugu and you or the two men having their fun alone.

you arrive home, expecting to be entrapped in a double bearhug by your two boyfriends, only to hear moans and grunts echoing down the hallway. you laugh to yourself as you make your way upstairs. opening the bedroom door, you're greeted by a smiling suguru being topped off by his blond counterpart. "hey baby, how was work?" he asks casually, not even acknowledging the fact that he's actively getting head. you smile softly, walking to the edge of the bed and placing a gentle peck on suguru's waiting lips. "mmm, it was a pretty rough shift...i'm gonna go take a long, hot shower," you reply, exhaustion evident in your voice. satoru sits up, continuing to jerk suguru off. with his free hand, he wipes the spit from his chin, grinning ear to ear as you lean in to kiss him, too. "you sure you don't wanna join us?" "not right now, toru, but i might when i get out," you smile as you walk to the dresser, grabbing a change of clothes before heading toward the master bathroom. you turn back around to face the two of them, giggling at the disappointed looks on their faces. when the door closes, the wet sounds and breathy moans fill the bedroom once more. but of course, not even five minutes into your peaceful shower, your back is pressed up against the tile wall as satoru's tongue laps at your throbbing clit. "this is the best way to decompress, baby," he says before his fingers dip into your core and his lips reattach to your sensitive bud. "f-fuck, toru...feels s'good..." as you surrender to the bliss, you hear the bathroom door open and close. seems like suguru was feeling left out. so much for your alone time, huh?

loneliness is no longer apart of the equation for you. after years of failed relationships and agonizing heartbreaks, you have finally found peace, your yin and yang. you have your boys, and they have you.

author notes: stsg has had me in a fuckin chokehold recently so i had to get this outta my head. i just rly rly want two boyfriends so so bad and i want my two boyfriends to also be boyfriends. ugh. is that too much to ask? ♡

©bratbby333 on tumblr. all rights reserved. please do not distribute. 2024.

reblog this if your icon could kill a man

blitzø x succubus!reader. you're dragged along by a friend to verosika mayday's anti-blitzø party and find yourself drawn to a certain imp as the night progresses. after blitzø's heart to heart with the hostess, he's left stewing in his own mind. when you approach him and offer to keep him company there on the balcony, he may just see you as a sorely needed reprieve from his traitorous thoughts.

anon request. 3.2k

featuring: hurt/comfort, smut, an emotionally wrought blitzø, some stolitz feels.

Hugging a plastic cup to your chest, you watch the party move around you with wide eyes. You weren’t at all surprised by the level of debauchery – hell, by Lust Ring standards this was actually pretty tame – but by the strange kind of… catharsis you were witnessing amongst some of the other guests. Sure, not all of it was exactly healthy – you were pretty sure playing pin-the-dagger-on-the-dickhead wasn’t therapist approved – but people seemed to be…

Well.

Maybe ‘moving on’ weren’t the right words for it.

But, hey, you weren’t here to judge. You’d been invited by a friend to a Verosika Mayday party, and even among fellow Succubi that was huge deal. So, that had been enough for you to put together a poor attempt at a Halloween costume and tag along for the night.

You hadn’t realized that the dress code had a different theme until you had opened your apartment door to see you friend wearing a shirt emblazoned with a crudely written “Fuck You Blitzo”. Now it was easy to tell the two groups apart by their wardrobes – those invited by Verosika herself, and their guests all dolled up in their Halloween best.

Still, decent booze, better music, and the intoxicating energy that always radiated off a group of Lust demons this large has your head spinning pleasantly, even if this isn’t exactly what you’d been expecting. You’d grilled your friend on how they’d scored themselves an invite, and honestly, it felt as though you only needed to be tangentially involved with this ‘Blitzø’ guy to score yourself an invite from Mayday.

You weren’t complaining. It beat sitting at home.

The hours pass in a blur of booze and bodies, and you’ve long since surrendered yourself to the fun. An incubus you’ve already forgotten the name of has you pressed against the wall, his tongue in your mouth and his hips flush against yours. You can feel him hard against you, the energy swirling through the party spurring you on. You hook one hand in his belt, the other slung over his shoulder, still holding your half-full cup. He doesn’t seem to be worried about wearing the contents, and his lips move to the side of your throat, his stubble teasing over your skin.

You hum happily at the sensation, rolling your hips into his. An incubus isn’t going to feed you those happy-vibes as much as a human soul could, but even without the power rush your own excitement is an addictive sensation. The incubus grazes his teeth over your collarbone and you gasp, eyes opening lazily.

You cast your gaze across the throng of dancing bodies and upward, following the line of the stairs to the balcony above. A figure wrapped in what looks like a stained tablecloth sits up there alone, feet dangling over the edge. You find yourself staring up at them for a long moment before you feel yourself pushing the other demon away.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’ve gotta go,” you tell him, only semi-apologetic. “Sorry.”

He shrugs, taking it in stride the way only an incubus can, and you step past him to wander up the stairs. Coming to a stop beside the figure… an imp, you realize… you hesitate for a moment.

“Mind if I join you?”

You can barely make out the shrug of his shoulder and you take a seat beside him, swinging your legs out over the edge of the balcony. Discontent is just radiating off of him, and you bite your lip.

“Y’know… you might be the only person here who out even less thought into dressing for the theme than me,” you joke gently. You’re wearing a barely-there dress made of thick black threads woven together to emulate a spiderweb. It left the matching set of black lingerie clearly visible underneath, the hem ending a few inches above your thigh-high boots. “Are you supposed to be a… ghost or something?”

The imp doesn’t answer, and you bit your lip against the sheer awkwardness. You could just take him blowing you off in stride and leave, but there was something so… magnetic about the guy. You take a sip of your drink, holding out the cup in offer.

“You want some?”

There’s a pause, then he reaches out from under the tablecloth to take the cup, his claws brushing against your fingers as he does. He throws back the rest of it, sighing and letting the cup drop from his hand to the floor below, heedless of anyone it might hit. “…Thanks.”

“Sure,” you say, tucking hair behind your ear. “You, uh… don’t seem to be having fun. Did… you know this Blitzo guy?”

The imp is silent for a few moments, his voice barely audible. “He ruined my fucking life.”

“I’m… I’m sorry.”

The imp glances your way, stiffening for a second as he studies your face. “I don’t… did Blitz fuck you over, too?”

He has nice eyes.

You shake your head. “Got invited by a friend. And I don’t think they really knew the guy either. Hell, half the people here are like that from what I can tell. Honestly, this whole thing feels kinda… fucked up.”

The imp stares at you for a few more moments, and there’s something weighted about his gaze. You swallow, fingers tangling in the webbing covering your stomach. Then, he casts his eyes down over the crowd, and he tenses.

“What’s wrong?”

He seems to struggle to decide whether he wants to tell you. You follow his gaze and spot the Goetian Prince you’d heard sing earlier in the night, currently being spun around the dancefloor by an Incubus you’ve seen at parties in the past.

“Ah.” you say. “An ex?”

He nods, almost pitifully. Still, his fists clench against his thighs, an outward show of irritation. Possessiveness.

The two of you watch the couple laugh and dance for a while, and you fight the urge to reach a hand over to him as he growls quietly when the incubus kisses the prince’s neck.

Instead, you swallow, raising your voice over the crowd again. “Hey… did you drive?”

“What?”

“Did you drive tonight?”

He nods, eyes still glued to the Owl Prince.

“…D’you think you could give me a ride home?”

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The two of you ride in silence, all the way back into Hell and down into the Lust Ring; you only speak up long enough to give him directions to your apartment. His claws are wrapped tightly around the steering wheel, hard enough that his knuckles are pale. His jaw clenches and unclenches, and after a while you reach out over the messy seat of his van to touch a calming hand to his knee.

The imp glances down at it, almost surprised, but his jaw stops tightening.

He comes to an abrupt stop outside your apartment building, mounting the curb and narrowly missing the bench bolted to the footpath. You unbuckle your seatbelt, the awkward feeling hanging between the two of you like so much smoke.

You should end it here, let him take himself home and drink away his troubles or smash shit or send his ex a barrage of texts over what he saw tonight. It’s not your business and you don’t owe the guy anything. So, why instead do you hear yourself say: “Hey, um… d’you want to come inside?”

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On any other day, Blitzø might have scoffed at the idea of a shy succubus, one that treads lightly around his feelings rather than just asking or seducing him into a rough fuck, but tonight he just follows you into your apartment quietly. He still wears the tablecloth like a security blanket, but you don’t comment on it.

Instead, he takes a seat on the couch as you pour the two of you a drink of Asmodean whiskey. It’s not as strong as Beelzejuice but it’s marketed as a nightcap, and it feels more suitable in this moment than a party drink. It burns his throat when he downs half of it, his fingers wrapped almost too tightly around the glass.

You try to make conversation, voice stilted and quiet, and he offers you brief responses that float away like debris in water. All he can see in his mind is Stolas’ happy, carefree smile as that incubus had held him in his fucking arms, and Blitzø just needed his brain to stop.

“You wanna fuck?”

You stop midsentence, caught off-guard.

“I…” you give a surprised, breathless laugh. “I’m… you want to…?”

“Fuck,” he nods decisively. He feels like he should be leaning into you, fixing you with bedroom-eyes or at the very least be speaking in a huskier tone but instead he just sits there, a matter-of-fact. “Now.”

You seem to consider him for a moment before you reach up, and he stiffens as you touch the edge of the tablecloth.

“Depends,” you say, pushing the cloth back away from his face. “Do I have to fuck a ghost?”

He chokes on a laugh despite himself before you lean down to kiss him. He meets your lips almost hesitantly, and it isn’t until later that he realizes that this is the first time he’s kissed someone other than Stolas in months. Your kiss is different, softer and more tentative… there’s no urgency behind it, none of the desperation that’s usually tied to a scheduled fuck. It leaves him cold for a moment, uncertain, but then you cup his cheek gently and slide your tongue into his mouth and he feels warmth bloom in his gut.

He kisses you back, claws curling in the threads barely covering your thigh as the tablecloth falls off him completely. The feel of it sliding over his back makes him shiver, and he wraps his other hand around the back of your neck, tugging you closer and deepening the embrace.

You taste of the sweet nectar of Beelzejuice and something tart like cherries, and he groans, low and reedy into your mouth. The sound thrills you, sends a shudder through the very middle of you, and you scratch your nails over the base of one his horns.

Blitzø almost purrs at the sensation. “Fuck…”

He inhales sharply as you trail your hand down from his face and over his chest and further… you urge his jacket down off his arms and he shrugs it off, taking your face in his hands. His teeth catch your lip and he tastes the metallic hint of blood, his cock stirring as you whimper needily in response. His eyes roll back behind the lids as you finally palm his cock, squeezing the bulge in his pants as you break apart to catch your breath, forehead bumping against his.

He barely gives you a chance to steady yourself before he’s pulling you in again, because as long as he’s feeling this, feeling you, those whispers in his brain can’t be heard. You’re a balm against the poison of his mind, and Blitzø finds himself torn between the idea of laying you out and pounding your ass into the mattress or splitting you open over his lap.

Blitzø grabs at you, clutching at your hips, your breasts. “Fuckin’ piece of—”

You giggle as his claws tangle in your dress, pulling away to tug it off over your head. Tossing it aside, your breath catches as the imp buries his face against your chest, licking and nipping at the swell of your breasts. He sucks at a nipple through the cup of your bra, and you dust kisses over his horns and his forehead as his fangs graze the hardened point through the silk. He reaches up to tug the cup down, his claws drawing lines against the soft swell of your breast, dark red against the cotton candy color of your skin. He seems to admire the marks for a moment before he brings his mouth to your breast again, curling his forked tongue around your nipple and sucking hard.

The way you arch against him is the closest Blitzø will ever understand as poetry, and he decides right there he needs more of it, pulling you into his lap. You straddle his thighs obediently, grinding yourself once, hard over his crotch. He snarls at the feeling of it, wrapping your hair around his hand and dragging you back down into another kiss, his other claws clutching at a handful of your ass.

The imp’s touch is hot and rough and amazing, so good you’re almost surprised you’re not sucking up a supernova worth of soul energy from the demon. He encourages you to ride your thigh with a tight grip on your thigh and your ass, his tongue sliding almost languidly into your mouth.

You unbuckle his belt with practiced ease, lowering his zipper and wrapping your fingers around his erection. The imp groans into your mouth, bucking into the warmth of your hand. You squeeze the base of him with every downstroke of his cock, bending down further to dust kisses over his cheek and the side of his throat. Your teeth graze his collarbone and he curses, claws flexing so hard on your ass that you feel them prick your skin.

“Fuck me…” he groans, and you kiss him again, bracing an arm against the back of the couch beside his horns.

“That’s the idea,” you say breathily and he swats your ass with the spade of his tail. He begins to roll his eyes at the joke but the gesture melts away as you take hold of his wrist and lead his hand between your legs. The imp takes the hint immediately, and you moan quietly as he tugs your underwear aside and slides his fingers against your clit.

“Oh, shit…” you murmur, riding his hand slowly. The imp presses kisses to your chest, reaching behind you unclip your bra. You shrug it off, letting out a drawn-out, broken moan as he guides his cock into you. “Fuck…”

“Fuckin’ Christ…” he agrees, head falling back against the couch. Bracing both hands against the couch on either side of him you corkscrew your hips slowly over his until he bottoms out inside you. He surprises you by leaning up to kiss you again, and you let that linger as you begin to move against him.

You ride the imp’s lap slowly, reveling in the way every inch feels inside you. He thrusts up into you every time you lower yourself again, claws claiming your thighs, just above the top of your boots.

He watches you with wide eyes, his gaze dropping down over your near-naked body before always returning to your face. You shudder with the way he feels filling, stretching your cunt, pushing your hair out of your face so you can press a kiss between his horns.

The way he’s watching you is more intoxicating than anything else you’ve sampled tonight, and when slips a hand between your legs to play with your clit you keen, head falling back.

Blitzø stares at the column of your neck as you tighten around him, your cum dripping down over the base of his cock. He feels your tail wrap around his calf, feels your cunt squeeze around him, and he closes his eyes tight.

The flash of feather and glowing red in his memory makes his brow crease, and he runs his hand over your waist, your thigh, reminding himself of the soft, smooth expanse of your skin. He thrusts up harder into you, retaking your hips to encourage you into a more brutal pace.

You let out an ‘uh’ every time he hits that spot inside you, and he’s cursing and groaning and you palm your breast and squeeze. There’s a furrow between his brows and you can tell he’s trying to hold out, to make this last. His hands are so tight on your hips you’re sure that you’ll bruise, but you don’t care, circling your clit with hurried fingers as you bounce on his dick.

“Yes…” you moan, sparks igniting up along your spine as he angles his hips just right. “Oh, fuck, yes, Blitz!”

“Kiss me,” the imp says just as your second orgasm crests. “Please… fuck. Kiss me.”

You take his face in your hands and bring his lips back to yours and he moans into your mouth as he cums inside you, hands gripping roughly at your shoulders. You keep kissing him until you feel him relax, breaking away to dust soft, slow kisses to his cheek and between his eyes. His hips bump up into yours a few more times as he finally comes down, his chest heaving.

He freezes as you bump your forehead against his and pulls back to meet your eye. “You… how the fuck did you know I’m…”

You raise an eyebrow, the beginnings of an amused smirk playing on your lips. “Your ex is the Goetian Prince and they were kinda burning you in effigy at that party… I took a gamble.”

Blitzø chuckles, the sound half torn between amusement and self-deprecation. “Fuck…”

“Well, hey,” you shrug. “Maybe I’ll have earned an invite of my own to next year’s big Halloween bash.”

He groans, rubbing his hands over his face.

“I’m kidding!” you laugh, taking hold of his wrists and dragging his hands away from his face. “I’m only kidding, I swear!”

He raises an eyebrow at you disbelievingly, and you smile softly, reassuringly.

“Seriously, Blitz. I mean, I don’t really know you, besides the whole…” you gesture down to where you’re still straddling his lap. Your thighs ache slightly with him still inside you. “… y’know… but I didn’t bring you home with me thinking I was going to ‘fix the asshole of honour’.”

“You didn’t?”

“Nope.” you shake your head at his skepticism. “I learned a long time ago that no one expects monogamy from a succubus. And I’m fine with that. I do better without the strings attached. But,” you continue, grinding your hips slowly over his once and making the over-sensitized imp groan in the back of his throat. “I also know you looked like you could use a break from the self-hate for a little while.”

His gaze drops, and you skim a finger down his cheek and under his chin to tilt his face back up to yours.

“Seriously. We’re good here.”

Blitzø sighs, letting his head drop back against the couch. “So, I don’t have to worry about you bitchin’ about me to your friends after this?”

“With dick that good, nah.” you joke, grinning when he snickers despite himself. “Look, I think you clearly need to figure out what’s going on between you and the Prince that’s got you all… how you are. But I also think that if you wanna stay the night, that’s fine too.”

“I don’t…”

You dip your head down to kiss his cheek before he can formulate an answer.

“Maybe don’t answer that offer while you’re still inside me.” you tease, and he smirks weakly, his hands squeezing your hips. You climb gracefully off his lap, unabashed by your disheveled appearance – mussed hair and smeared lipstick, wearing only latex boots and underwear stained in both your cum. “I’m going to shower. And I promise, I won’t be offended if you’re gone by the time I get out.”

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To your surprise, he isn't.

kids die for free 🎶

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* "YOU DON'T CARE ABOUT THAT SILLY PROJECT OF YOURS, YOU JUST WANT SOME DICK."

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { NEED TO KNOW } ] ➤ This fic was originally written & published on Wattpad but due to multiple complications, I’ve decided to upload it here.

[ { CONTENT } ] ➤ Each chapter is rather lengthy & the entirety of this fiction exceeds at least 90k words and counting. There are plenty of sexual themes & smut within this story so please proceed with caution.

[ { WARNINGS } ] ➤ fem!reader, explicit nsfw scenes, alcohol, college non-curse au, toxic altercations & interactions, heavy blackmail, hints of; obsession, possessiveness, & stalking. Violence, whore activities, gen z references, & above all; 18+ themes.

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

❥ Chapters !

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Extras.

In case you’re confused, here’s a breakdown of this fic.

Hope you enjoy!

|| @kamiversee || ff status; complete ||

Turning off your boyfriend is a power move tbh

lyss. lyssbug. i am on my hands and knees begging for you to write reader HARDCORE teasing ellie and getting poor baby so worked up...only to not give her what she wants. the greedy little hip thrust when she chases r's hand..her wetness seeping through her boxers OH I AM UNQELLLSLSLSLSLKWKWN please and thank you i owe you my life 💚

omg hiii plubug. i can feel the feralism pls 🫡 my take on flustering extreme!nerdy perv ellie.. hardly edited. you're welcome!

"can.. can you repeat that question? sorry-"

she wasn't quite getting it.

you had re-explained the same section for the millionth time to ellie williams, the nerdy, socially-stilted girl who'd come into your apartment this afternoon to try and make sense of the coursework from your upper-level sociology seminar.

for a girl so bright, it was like she'd short-circuited the second she stepped through your doorway. you had no clue what caused it.

not that she was much of a smooth talker any other time. in class or when you passed her in the common areas, she was all stammered, bashful greetings and dropped pens, making constant blunders by knocking over her water bottles or running straight into inanimate objects—you'd caught her apologizing to them like they had feelings. ellie’s usual stuttering had escalated into full-on, barely coherent blabbering the second the two of you sat down on your couch—shoulders brushing—going through the reading line by line. something about the set scene, the proximity, the way your voice dropped an octave when reading... had launched her into an entirely unprecedented level of fluster.

her thick-rimmed glasses slipped to the tip of her button nose, her rosy lips slightly parted. ellie's deep green eyes were unsubtly directed at your lips instead of the page, clearly entranced by something other than sociological intersections.

it wasn't the first time you caught her zoning out like that. you weren't oblivious. ellie was trying so hard to suppress whatever little crush had wormed its way into her chest, but she was terrible at hiding it.

and she was absolutely adorable, sat there in her cinematically dorkish spectacles. 

some of this fell on you, so keen to her antics to begin with. the loserishness definitely had its appeal… but there was more to her than meets the eye. you’d snuck a peek of a tatted arm under her rolled-up hoodie, her fit figure, a cute, firm butt. you could take a bite out of her.

you figured it wasn't entirely fair to let it slide without teasing her a little.

"what… would you say it means when these two groups culturally intersect?" you asked, voice soft, coaxing her back to the present.

ellie blinked, slow and dazed. she hadn't heard a word.

"ellie, are you listening?" you asked, though the answer was obvious. "you're off in space…"

that snapped her out of it. like a whip crack. she straightened her posture, eyes darting to yours with a flicker of panic like she was trying to figure out just how much you'd noticed of her wandering attention. 

without thinking, you reached up and gently pushed her glasses back up the bridge of her nose.

"there. that might help your sight," you said with a pleased little hmph.

ellie shifted on the couch, muttering, "right… erm, thanks…"

"alright, now, eyes on the book," you instructed, mock-stern, pointing to her face and guiding it back toward the page.

for a while, things went peacefully. ellie seemed to settle, at least for a stretch, finally receptive to your guidance. this subject came easily to you, and she kept reminding you of that.

"you're so good at this. i really appreciate you helping me," she'd said earlier. and then again. and again.

"thank you, els," you'd replied each time, the nonstop doting giving you a slightly inflated ego.

but eventually, the silence stretched on once more. no questions. no reaction. you leaned forward to point out a new concept—

—and sure enough, she wasn't looking at the book.

you sighed and looked up, catching her once again mid-stare. she really couldn’t help her urges, could she? this time, however, it was with a heavy focus on your top, the curves of your cleavage visible with how the scoop neck dipped slightly. 

how lewd of her, you thought. was the ellie williams actually a closeted horn-dog? the idea of it..didn't actually surprise you at all. it tended to be the shyest ones who harbored the raunchiest, ineffable perversions. 

"…ellie," you drawled, voice half-teasing, half-warning. "do you need something?"

she jolted upright, clearly trying to play it off, shaking her head profusely and turning to face you a bit more.

"s-sorry, i really don't mean to—"

you brought your finger to her lips before she could spiral into apologies.

"shush," you said, gentle. "ellie… i know what you're doing."

ellie’s amber freckles stood out sharply as her face flushed crimson, naturally full brows raised in anxious anticipation. she didn't want to assume what you meant, but her guilty expression gave her away.

"what?" she played dense. "it's just hard for me to get all of this. you're so patient, thank you—"

"no, no," you cut her off again. your hand slid up her arm, resting on her bicep, fingers curling slightly. a tender pressure. tacit reassurance.

ellie gulped.

"do you need something else, maybe?" you added, eyes not once leaving her. "a… motivator?"

you let the question hang there, teasing, open-ended—flirting with the girl who was clearly, hopelessly pining.

and yeah, you were picking up what she was putting down. you just knew she'd never be the one to say it first. 

you weren't even this bold typically. finding a girl far more timid than you seemed to embolden you in a way you'd never imagined for yourself. 

"ellie..can you lay back for me?" you continued, voice lowering into dulcet danger. your aura dripped with a flirtatious, syrupy, tempestuous sweetness, yet still giving her an out if she so needed.

but ellie, of course, obliged. there was no way in hell she’d say no to anything you asked of her. you said to jump? she’d ask how high. so she shuffled backward—pressing against the ragged cushions, back to the rickety armrest. she looked at you, silently questioning your intent.

you found yourself slowly tracing your fingertips against her jeans, studying how the old, relaxed denim hugged her body. the fit was slightly loose, which worked in your favor. 

"i've noticed your focus.. isn't where it should be," your pointer fingers mimicking a walk up her leg. "if we're going to get you a passing grade, i need your 110% effort."

in ellie’s mind, she could hardly comprehend what was happening—or what was about to go down. she’d been yearning for this moment, crushing on you for longer than anyone would regard as normal. really, the chance to come over and study had in itself felt like hitting the jackpot. getting to be this close to you, regardless of the reason, surpassed her wildest dreams. but now, your hand was working its way up her leg, and ellie found herself utterly awestruck at the fact. all she could do now was ditsily nod that she wanted you to keep going, more than anything, and so you did.

and then- fuck, she remembered one detail that could potentially derail your whole plan—she was wearing fucking dinosaur-printed boxers. 

oh, she was so embarrassed. her hand shot up to try and intercept your movements, a feeble attempt to stop what now felt like an impending disaster, but you swatted her fingers away with ease. a silent reprimand.  

you reached the buttons of her pants, pausing on them to look up with one more tentative check for consent. you caught a glimpse of trepidation in ellie’s eyes- a pitifully needy expression that gave you the confidence to pop the button open with a swift, single tug.

with the newfound freedom, you slid her jeans down, lifting her hips slightly. you couldn't help but notice the unmistakable pattern on her boxers. a teensy smirk came over your lips, but you kept your mouth shut. ellie saw your reaction, momentarily dying inside, but ultimately resigned to let this be the price to pay for having your hands on her. she’d simply accept that she’d be haunted by this moment for the next twenty years.

you trailed your fingers along the fabric first, glissading down her hips, pelvis, finally grazing her mound over her boxers. a wet patch had already formed, much to ellie's chagrin but to your delight. 

"needy, huh? i see why you need my help, can't let you go on like this huh.." you teased, ever so slightly caressing. ellie could feel her pussy throbbing through her boxers, just aching for direct contact before she flooded through to your fingers. you were more in tune than she gave you credit for; you found it almost precious, her sheer desperation for your titillations and sudden lavished attention. you were her aphrodisiac.

you, admittedly, got a bit worked up, feeling your own pussy pulse with every breathless whimper escaping ellie's lips, the moistness you felt through her fabric-covered cunt. you, worked up to the edge of her boxers again, tantalizingly dragging your fingers along the hem, feeling the tickle of her happy trail. you softly exhaled when ellie bucked up, so preemptive. poor girl. the situation was clearly dire, the way her mouth kept parting and her eyes teared up with such frenzied lust and you hadn't even made it down yet. this was way too fun. your coy smirk grew ear to ear as you finally snaked your hand inside her boxers, descending her trimmed auburn bush. 

ellie let out quivered fluxes of breath when your palmed her sopping heat, finally teasing her silken folds, middle and index fingers spreading her slippery lips to feel how aroused she was. ellie’s stomach was already fluttering, waves of excitement building. 

you didn’t let on that you were actively resisting the urge to fingerfuck her into oblivion. you oh-so-wished you could break this dorky girl, teach her things about your body and you learn every button to press on hers to melt her underneath you. but for now, you simply wanted to relish in her bucking hips and how she was trying to greedily get herself off on your hand. your wetted thumb pressed on her twitchy clit, moving in small, gentle circles around the clothed area, eliciting the most pitiful wail from ellie yet, a full body squirm paired with it. 

"fuck..this is what you really needed wasn't it, ellie?" you ask her, a slight mocking laugh following your words. "you didn’t want to study..came over here just to stare at my tits, hmm?" you taunt, the humiliated-yet-lustful look in ellie's eyes and the tide of wetness on your fingers answer enough. 

"oh god…" she choked in a gasp, eyes squeezing shut as you kept trailing her slit, not quite dipping inside her aching center. 

ellie truly was a sight for sore eyes like this, toned legs spread wide like a whore across your couch, splayed as much as she possibly could in her only half-shrugged-off jeans. her glasses had slid down to the tip of her nose again from how her head bobbled with each of your teasing strokes. face roseated and glowing, auburnish strands tugged from her already-messed-up bun. the nerd had become your personal porn star, and you couldn’t get enough of it.

with a surge of confidence, your other hand grips ellie's chin, hoisting her face to meet yours as you sultrily mutter your next instruction. 

“answer me. you wanna be my pretty little slut?" you asked, invoking a sly smile to ease her into the idea. 

"yes, yes, please," she begs without hesitation, stumbling over her own words. you comfortingly pat her cheek, then lowering your hand to firmly cup and fondle her clothed breast.

finally giving ellie what she so needed, you pushed your fingers into her cunt, the wet tightness of it pulling an involuntary moan from you that came in sync with hers.

"you feel so fucking good, baby… all worked up for me…are you even gonna last?" ellie, in a blissful haze, overwrought with pleasure, couldn’t even sense your words. she just kept doing what a neglected, horndog ellie knew best, trying to rhythmically grind herself into your hand as you sunk your digits further inside, curling deep within to hear her mewls of pleasure. 

“s’all for me..god, you’re gorgeous-“ you adopted a steady pace, spreading your fingers inside her spasming walls, to get her whole body trembling and roaring towards an impending release.

”ahh, aahh, fuck," she rambled dumbly, glasses clouded against her face thanks to hot breaths. her head was fully thrown back, a fist white-knuckling a cushion for dear life. what fucking luck. this perfect moment would fuel her fantasies for years to come. 

maybe perfect, but still incomplete. perhaps she’d gotten her hopes up too soon. 

listening to her jumbled words and sensing her getting close, a most wicked idea entered your mind. 

“so easy.. gonna cum on my fingers so fast yeah? just needed to be treated like a whore, yeah? oh…fuck-” you sucked air through your teeth while continually pumping your fingers in her at a languid, torturous pace. your condescension made ellie’s cunt flood, coating your hand and dribbling down her thigh. you salivated over how her walls clenched around your digits with every tease.  the deliciously obscene squelching sounds of ellie’s pussy getting wrecked on your fingers filled the room, mingling with your breathy moans in torrid harmony.

"so close aren't you, pretty girl?" you ask, increasing the vigor and depth of your pumps, causing ellie's back to arch up into your knuckles, angling as far as she could, trying to suck your fingers in. 

"yes- yes- yes-" she spewed, climax coiling tight, ready to unfurl. 

but you felt mean. 

your wrinkled fingers eased up, pulling from her soaked cunt, followed by a trail of dripping, creamy beads. ellie humped the air, not instantly registering the loss of your fingers. the building pressure inside her started to wane, glossy eyes gradually fluttering back open. ellie whinged as she realized what you had done, the extent of your cruelty settling in. ellie responded by lurching forward, head slumped against your shoulder without shame, whimpering in protest off your actions. she was hopelessly pliant, completely lost in her desire to finish on your fingers. you tittered, rubbing a tender hand on her back. “tsk, tsk… so mean of me, i know..” you kissed her hair. it was all too much. you wanted to coo reassurances, leave her hanging, but her restless, fucked-out state caused a twist in your stomach. to be desired so fervidly made your own thirst insatiable. 

betraying your own willpower, your hand gradually reached her dripped-through boxers again, pressing a feather-light swirl on her swollen bud triggering ellie to mindlessly rut, straining herself to roll against your hand.

you giggled in how sensitive she was to your attention. “you just look so gorgeous on edge like that.. how could i possibly let you cum?”

it was so beautifully pathetic. the captivating way the sheepish, nerdy ellie you knew had fallen from grace and crumbled under your every whim.. you could keep toying with her forever. but you were capable of bargaining, a charitable vixen.

“how about this..” gingerly dragging your hand away once more, settling purchased on ellie’s waist to keep her upright and ensure she heard you.

“convince you me you understood a lick of your coursework, i’ll let you cum.. you help me cum... sound good sweetheart?”

you’d never seen such a quick learner as after you motivated ellie with a prize such as that. maybe you’d hold up your end of the deal. maybe. 

My princess with a disorder🥹

Also heres the full list of maladies by popular request

shigaraki didn't know shit about sex before he met you.

all he even "learned", if you could even call it that, were through doujinshis and hentais that he watched, or those really extreme porn videos. poor boy, was so isolated from the human contact experience and is so deprived of touch that he puts all his frustration in a porn addiction.

so then, enter you in the picture, and shigaraki is so clueless. he's saying how he doesn't need your help, but you knew that he did need it once he tried to insert his finger DRY in you. he didn't even know where the clit was! and once you pointed out, he tried to play it like a joystick.

absolutely not!

so there's now shigaraki, having sex education for the first time of his life with you, who's using your body was example. and he finds out that getting himself off can have multiple ways of doing so. even better, he can get you off in multiple ways.

he tries being a dom when he finally gets the chance to use his cock instead of his tongue and fingers like he's been training the past days with you, but he finds the sensation so overwhelming that he crumbles, he almost cries from how good it feels!

so yeah, you now have a whimpering tomura, who's panting and moaning like a bitch while you ride the life out of him. he does cum embarrassingly fast, but that doesn't even matter, because he's somehow still hard! look at that, is that the most frightening villain of the century? crying as you keep on riding his overstimulated cock? blabbing incoherently and barely being able to say anything besides your name?

he can't even think anymore, all has been reduced to obsessive thoughts. his hands travel your body without knowing where to put them. if you let him hold your tits as you almost break his hips from how hard you're riding? he could cum just from that.

he became submissive so fast with you that it's almost pathetic, but you're just as crazy as he is, so instead, it's endearing.

moonie… moonie wtf im shaking… SHAKING !!!

i can just imagine him on top of you, moving the way he thinks he’s supposed to after rotting his brain with porn and hentai, wondering why you haven’t squirted or gone cross eyed yet. he’d be all force and no technique, going fast while you just lay there wondering if this was really what all that talk was about. it would get to the point where you’d have to flip him over, your legs on either of his as you lower yourself onto his cock and ride him nice and slow. and its like agony and bliss had a baby and punched him in the face. he’d throw his head back, muttering something and clenching his teeth as he fights the urge to hammer his hips up against you. but you’re so warm and tight and it’s like you’re sucking the souls out of him with every lazy roll of your hips. he’d try to reach for you, to take control (if you could even call it that) only to be forced down by your hand pressed against his chest, keeping him in place as you begin to go faster… harder. he’d be so loud too, whining and whimpering and feelimg tears prick at the corners of his eyes because fuck, he didn’t know it could feel this good. not with his hands or his toys he might have spent a small fortune on… no, nothing could compare to the way you were clenching around him and milking him dry. he’d be dazed, his heavy lidded eyes glossed over and cheeks flushed, gray strands of hair sticking to his flushed, sweat glazed face as he pants before he finds you towering over him once more, your fingers spreading your cunt open and hovering over his lips. and it’s like hes gone dumb, the way he immediately opens up for you, his tongue sticking out for you to lower yourself onto and use while his hands fist into the sheets. he knows better than to reach for you. knows better than to act like he’s the one in control and risk having the euphoric feeling of your pussy on his tongue ripped from him.

only you could put tomura in his place like this <3

dating nerdy bf! gojo— everyone thinks your sweet little dork of a boyfriend is innocent, but little do they know how much of a horny freak he is, especially when you’re sitting on his lap in the library studying; his weakness.

you were too concentrated on jotting notes down to realize his hard length was poking you from underneath your skirt nor hear his breathing starting to become heavy until he moves your hair to the side and rasps in your ear, “baby…you look so beautiful when you’re focused.”

confused, you flip your head around to see your pathetic boyfriend in a complete haze– flushed cheeks, eyes full of hunger, lips glossy and red. “satoru, are you okay? need some water? a snack? we can take a bre–“ he cuts you off.

“no.” he breathed out, “what i need…” starting to grind up against your heat, “is to feel you around my cock.” groaning against your neck as his veiny hand snakes around the other side.

you can’t help but feel the slight warmth starting to take over your face once he begins grinding his aching dick back and forth against your throbbing cunt, the stimulation nearly bringing you over the edge until you realize the two of you were still in the library, bringing your shaky hand over your mouth to muffle your slight whimpers.

“toru, we can get introuble if someone catches us right now.” you quietly whine, “can we finish this first then we can go…” almost slipping out a moan when he bucks his hips into you even faster.

“no, can’t mmh wait, need you now.” he mewled out (almost) out loud, that you had to turn around to shush him with your hand and caught a glimpse of his fogged up, tilted eyeglasses almost falling off his face and his mouth dangling open.

the roll of his hips against you came to a halt as his body began to squirm underneath yours, his eyes rolling back and sweat starting to drip down the sides of his face as he pants again your hand, the tent in his pants now becoming a stained wet spot. “so sorry sweets i-“ profusely apologizing. you sigh and get up from his lap.

“yeah yeah, c’mon lets go before someone notices you stained your pants you nerd.”

-

tags: @beanietopia @cuntphoric @alifromanotherworld @takumasimp @webism @yemmuisworld @xixflower