Dingdong! Horny Gale hours
✨️Nsfw ✨️
Hear me out. Riding Gale while he's reading you poetry.
♡ Oh boy. He's already over the moon to have a partner that he can nerd out with over the most romantic bullshit you've ever heard. I'm talkin' Shall I compare thee to a summer's day, She walks in beauty like the night romantic bullshit. So he's blushing like mad when you ask him to read.
♡He starts out so excited and so confident, really putting the energy in (so many hand motions omg). But you're here to put that practiced tongue to work.
♡After a few poems you sit right in his lap and his brain just short circuits. You go on like nothings happened and whine about how he was just getting to the best part.
♡Gale's stuttering and stumbling over his words sooo awkwardly. He's wild about feeling you pressed against him and can't think about anything other than how you're wiggling your ass.
♡You're teasing him and singing his praise, telling him how sexy he is, how hot his voice gets you, how wet it makes you. You're bagging him to keep reading but Gale barely remembers his name.
♡You start jerking him but stop the second he pauses too long. He's a blushing embarrassed needy mess. He's so hungry for your touch but he's failing miserably.
♡Until you really grab him by the praise kink. He gets through a couplet ok and you're gripping him hard telling him how good he's doing, how good his sensual voice makes you feel, and he wants to make you feel good right? Gale wants to be your good boy like he wants to breathe.
♡It lights a fire in him and he's reading with vigor. Growling and panting through verses, every word thick with his desire.
♡You're still showering him with compliments and pleading him not to stop even as you're finally sinking on to his cock. Honestly you're the one having a hard time now.
♡Gale doesn't do things half way. He sees you're enjoying it so now he's the one turning up the heat. Now he's finding a toe- curling rhythm between his words and hips as he's rutting up into you. He purposely switching between slow and fast paced poems. Now whose the tease?
♡Will even switch to vividly erotic subject matter and whisper it low and husky right in your ear. Think Sappho, Pablo Neruda or Ee Cummings (or their high fantasy equivalent lol). He's punctuating particularly sizzling lines with some powerful thrusts and you're a babbling mess.
♡Needless to say you two make it a thing. You have a little poetry club now ya nerds 💜
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you absolutely love hearing eddie nerd out. when he apologized for ranting once, you admit that not only do you think it’s really cute, but it’s a bit of a turn on. he never lets that fact go. you’re making out on his bed and he starts trailing kisses up your jaw. nearing your ear, he leans in to whisper “wanna hear about the different types of orcs?” you whip your head at him in confusion before he continues whispering in your ear, deepening his voice. “there’s uruk-hai, actually uruk means orc in black speech..” you fight back a laugh and he pulls away just enough for you to see the smirk on the corner of his lips. days later when he picks you up for a date and sees your outfit, he immediately goes “have i ever told you about the fall of gondolin?” as he wiggles his eyebrows. it becomes a common occurrence, hot whispers about elven politics and defeating dnd monsters in hopes to hear you giggle and feel your smile against his lips.
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Bakugou likes to remind you to breathe whenever you two have sex. It can get so overwhelming for you—the pleasure, the intensity, the intimacy, the eye contact that he never lets you lose. It’s a connected feeling, when you’re at the height of it all, the precipice of climaxing.
“Hey, hey, eyes on me, baby,” he’ll whisper to you, tapping your cheeks once, twice, gently to gain your attention. Your eyes flutter open, rolling once before they settle on his, whining when you catch a carmine gaze, filled only with a type of passion and adoration that it makes your hole clench around him.
“Breathe through it, will you do that for me, baby? Huh?” He talks to you like you’re some airhead and, in a sense, you guess you are at the moment. Only able to gasp, mouth dropping open for his tongue to swipe the inside of it, hands pawing at his shoulders and nape.
“Cmon, baby, breathe with me. Gonna make you feel so good,” he promises, watches how your eyebrows screw up, how your eyes struggle to stay open.
You’ve always had the bad habit of holding your breath when you orgasm, and Bakugou’s heard somewhere that breathing through it makes the feeling all the more powerful. And he’s been doing it with you ever since—pressing his chest to yours, his mouth against your own, his breath in, your breath out.
When you cum, you remember to suck in your deep breaths, eyes hopelessly rolling to the back of your head as you shake and tremble all over. Bakugou praises you the whole time though, groaning and whispering about how good you did for him, how tight you are, how you listen so, so well.
His own breath stutters as he follows you, toes curled against the mattress as his breath slows until his balls finally unclench and he can relax into your body. You’re both boneless in seconds, and you figure the mess can wait until you gain feeling back in your body again.
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