#How does he look good despite being sweaty ...........

[choccorin]

WODHIWJDJWBSGGGUUUYSSSSJWJDWDJWK !!!!!!!

[s0dium]

THAT'S A RED FLAG BABY

JJK MEN AND RED FLAGS

A/n: Yessirrrr MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Synopsis: Jujutsu men and their red flag in a relationship or generally and how it shows through when they fuck

Characters: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Yuuta Okkatsu, Sukuna Ryomen, Choso

Warnings: Emotional abuse, narcissism, controlling behavior, dub-con, semi-public sex, spitting, fingering, rough sex, male masturbation, degrading, praise, teasing

~

Gojo Satoru- Narcissist  

Since he was a kid, Gojo has been praised and called many things

The honored one, the strongest, gifted and so on

But what people don't see is behind those beautiful sapphire eyes, is a goddamn narcissist through and through

He thinks, no he knows that he is the best, best at everything

This includes what goes on in bed.

And its not only that, the white-haired fox only cares about himself too in the sheets, abusing his unnatural stamina and using you like a cock sleeve for his own taste

At least he can be nice about it sometimes

Gojo is relentless. Its almost like your his personal cock sleeve, his dick shaping your insides and abusing your cervix despite your choked sobs and whines for him to stop, to simply slow down. He holds the back of your head with his hand, allowing you to look down at the way you two are connected; how he retracts his hips until his tip barely pokes out, admiring the slick coating his shaft before slamming back into you again.

"Ahhh~ P-please Satoru please...."

Gojo rolls his eyes and scoffs. Why were the people that surrounded him always so weak? Even you. It's a good thing you feel like heaven he could almost forgive you.

Tears stream down your face. Every time the tip of his dick rams against your cervix a powerful feeling mixed with pain and pleasure that surges through your body making you tremble and shake. You're losing your mind. Everything is so good, and, God, you can't ignore how handsome Gojo looks right now. His white hair is sticking to his sweaty forehead, and the muscles of his toned abdomen are flexing and unflexing. He is gorgeous, and, boy, he knows it. Even the way your pussy squeezes and spasms around his dick sends more bolts of electric pleasure to dance through your skim.

"Shhhh, just take it 'kay? You're doing so good for me baby." Gojo coos.

Geto Suguru -Controlling

It starts off small, a comment here and there on your choice of friends, a small criticism on where you were going to spend the evening because wouldn't you have much more fun spending it with him?

Then he's starting to pick out outfits for you. Modest but pretty ones for outside but short skimpy clothes for when you're only with him. It even gets to the point where he is controlling your finances, making you only use his credit card, and its not about the money, you can use as much as you want for all he cares. It's about the control, you being helplessly reliant on him.

And Geto has such an easy time getting away with his controlling tendencies, showering you in praises and sweet nothings about how he just wants to protect you. And the way his violet eyes gleam at you, you almost always believe him.

Don't for a second think that he's insecure because it's far from it. The raven-haired man just wants to have you all to himself, he just wants to protect you from the cruel cruel world out there.

"Didn't I tell you to ask me first if you are going to wear an outfit like that?" Geto whispers in your ear but you can barely focus on his words. The curl of his fingers inside you is just too numbing; the way it hits, prods, and massages a spot deep inside your walls that you can only dream about reaching on your own. Geto's fingers are so thick too, almost filling you up as deliciously as his dick does. Almost. "Mmm- I- I, I didn't-" You gasp for air and try to bury your face into your hands. He currently has you against a wall of some bathroom stall but that fact seemed all but lost to you right now. The pleasure was building in your core and fast. Your legs were starting to shake and a numbing electric feeling had taken course throughout your body. You didn't have to open your eyes to know that Geto was smirking.

Suddenly, Goto curls his fingers in a way that deeply presses your g-spot and the dam of pleasure that had built inside you breaks. Your jaw goes slack and your whole body trembles with electricity.

"Didn't expect for you to crack so easily" he chuckles against your ear, and you collapse into his chest. Yuta Okkatsu- Too obsessed

You would think this is a good thing right? You could never love someone too much, but it was different with Yuuta

Sure you had a crush on him, sure you touched yourself to him plenty of times (which Yuuta knew of very well) so the feelings weren't all that unreciprocated

But theres a line, there's a line that Yuta always seems to cross

From taking pictures of you to texting you constantly, christ you even found your panties in his drawer, yuta love was overwhelming.

Yuuta knows that he should wake you up, but he cant bring himself too right now. You just look so beautiful, so perfect under the soft glow of the night sky. Also, he just feels so good right now, Yuuta can barely think so much as speak. "Mmmm-mmm" he whimpers against the pillow, slowly grinding his clothed erection against your bare leg. How would you react if you knew your boyfriend was humping you while you sleep? Would you push him away? No no you're too kind for that, you would probably help him, probably pet his hair and whisper sweet nothings until he finished. Yes, if he knew for a fact that you'd help him when you wake up, what's stopping you from helping you now? Careful not to wake you up, he picks up your hand. It's so small compared to his but wraps so well around his throbbing member. He glides your thumb across his red tip to collect the precum before slowly sliding your hand up and down. The pleasure is immediate. It makes him bury his face into your neck to to press sloppy, wet, hot, and bitten kisses along your skin.

Sukuna Ryomen- Sadist

Where to start with Sukuna. Sukuna is the red flag.

Actually, even that is a complete understatement. Sukuna is straight-up cruel, rather he is a sadist through and through.

Manipulation, degrading, humiliation....although he wouldn't physically abuse you, with emotional abuse he won't hesitate.

You expect compassion, sympathy, and kindness from him? Fat chance. It is hard to see Sukuna being in any relationship at all.

Sukuna certainly doesn't love you, but he sure does love the sex though

Like any good sadist, his sexual pleasure derives from your physical or emotional suffering.

"Aw look at you, fucked you dumb did I?" Sukuna chuckles. A tattooed hand snakes between to your cunt, lightly rubbing your clit before delivering a sharp slap to the nerve.

Your eyes widen and your hips instantly buck up, unintentionally sending his dick deeper into you. The position he has you in is brutal. Both of your legs are thrown over Sukuna's shoulders and pressed against your chest, effectively folding you in half. "Open ya mouth" He orders, but you are too lost in the pleasure that is blooming in your stomach, the pleasure that is making your cunt flutter and squeeze desperately around his fat cock. "I said open." Sukuna delivers a particularly harsh thrust before stilling inside you; keeping the tip of his dick smushed against your cervix. The sudden movement snaps you out of your haze and you obediently widen your mouth letting your tongue hang out. Sukuna lets a glob of spit fall from his lips onto your awaiting tongue. You don't need to be told to swallow, you do so on habit, giving him a soft smile as you do so.

"Fuck, ya so perfect, such a good girl."

Choso- Jealous 

Choso is the type of man who keeps to himself. The type of man to blend in a group or fade into the background.

But that doesn't mean he notices things. In fact, he notices things a bit too well.

Was that your coworker who touched your shoulder? You say that he is just a friend but who should a friend be able to touch you so easily?

He won't hesitate to bring up what he notices either, he says he's not accusing you of anything, that he trusts you, but he totally is.

He hates it when people get to close to his brothers so it posits that he loathes it when it comes to his lover.

How did you get here? How did an argument turn into this?

You want to scream, you want to thrash and tell Choso that he's got it all wrong, that you didn't mean to see your guy friend when you went out to have lunch. It was just a harmless bump-in that turned into a long conversation. Thats it. But the feeling of Choso's dick filling you up, his harsh thrusts and the fucking delicious friction of the drag, Jesus, it's just- it's just so good your mind that your mind is a white sheet.

You are on all fours but you don't know how much longer you can keep the position up. Not with the way he's ramming your pussy from behind.

“You are mine," he grunts out, pumping into you, the length and level of his arousal is brutal. "Mine," he swears, and he pulls you up so your back is pressed against him and you are upright. Choso doesn’t slow his movement though, giving you full, hard thrusts, your breasts bouncing up and down from the harshness of it all.

“You wanna cum? Good, cum."

[lxnarphase]

━━ ❝ HE LIKES IT WET 'N' MESSY ❞

ᯓ ⭑ ₊‧⁺...synopsis : the more you think about it, the more you realize you love how messy atsumu is…

ᯓ ⭑ ₊‧⁺...cw : m. atsumu x fem!reader, wet and messy, ovėrstimulation, dirty talk, marathon sėx, desperation, playful banter, unprotected sēx, excessive cūm (?), atsumu's undiscovered breēding kınk, begging, messy kissing, atsumu miya can't shut the fuck up

ᯓ ⭑ ₊‧⁺...lunar's note : another revamping of an old work of mine where i just. make this even more debauched and filthier than it was before !!

if there’s one word to describe atsumu miya, it’s messy.

sometimes, he leaves his clothes on the floor at the foot of the bed, waiting until you playfully kick him in the butt to pick up his things and put them in the laundry.

he's also so messy when it comes to eating, always having food on his face, causing you to tease him as he tries to wipe it off, completely missing.

it doesn't bother you that much, having already grown used to his messy nature.

it does bother you, however, when he makes a big mess of the sheets. he's always ignoring your whines for him to get a towel to put down or else you'd make him do laundry for the rest of the week.

atsumu always gives the same damn response, a long whine of your name, telling you he’ll clean it up after.

after all, atsumu doesn't think he can bring himself to pull out of your slick heat, not when you feel this fucking good. he can't remember the last time he got to fuck you like this, messy and desperate without worrying about needing to get up early the next day to catch a bus or plane for a game.

he swears he almost forgot how warm you were, how sweet your voice sounds when you were this close to him, how pretty your face looks even when you were looking at him rather annoyed despite being fucked.

“’t-'tsumie, the towel—!”

“baby, nooooo, don’ make me pull out, don' it feel good? d'ya really want me to stop?”

fuck, you can't lie, it feels good, it feels so fucking good, the way he slows his hips to torture you with the slow drag of his cock, making you feel every inch pull out...and then slowly slide back in, a wet squelch signally his hips pressing fully against you.

but that doesn't stop you from being annoyed, knowing your fresh sheets were already a mess.

“d'awww, don’ look at me like that, sweetcheeks. tsumtsum's gonna make ya feel reaaal good if y'forget about the damn sheets,” atsumu huffs, his sweaty hands grabbing the back of your thighs and pushing them closer to your upper body.

its sinful the way he manages to slip in even deep into you, his teeth digging into his bottom lip to prevent the pitiful little whimper from leaving him.

“l-lemme make a mess, baby girl, please?”

you want to roll your eyes at his request, because it's a little too late for him to ask you that. his cum from the first round is already dripping out your stuffed cunt, leaking onto the freshly washed bed sheets under you.

it doesn't matter that his sticky cock head is messing up your insides by pressing against all the spots that have you gushing. you just put these sheets on the bed!

giving him the best pout you can manage, you huff, "f-fine—o-oh!"

that pretty little moan shouldn't cause him to react so excitedly, but he can't help it. hearing your approval has him giggling, he knew you'd give in eventually, and he's going to make sure you don't regret it.

besides, hearing you, his sweet lil' princess, try to sound all tough and serious with his cock deep inside your hot gummy walls that were sucking him in with each thrust is making him so dizzy.

you are too damn cute for your own good.

he can't hold back anymore, not when you're so cute. his hands squeeze your thighs before he starts to pound into you, savoring the way you keen for him, mouth open as you chant his name so needily.

you aren't the only one being loud, poor atsumu giving up on holding back all those pretty noises of his, the way your tight walls squeeze and massage his throbbing dick so sweetly making it literally impossible to stay quiet.

“f-fuck, 'tsumu, ‘s too deep, ’s coming out more,” you whimper, trying to lift your hips to stop his cum from leaking out of you.

the wetness of your overstimulated cunted paired with his leaking cum causes the room to be filled with loud, wet, squelching, causing you to look down.

you suck in a breath, a hot pang of pleasure shooting up your spine at the sight between your legs. atsumu’s stupidly big dick is an absolute creamy mess that only seems to get messier the more he moves, pulling and pushing the sticky mixture of your cum in and out.

“listen to that, dolly, s' fuckin’ dirty. mmnh, tight l-lil' cunt can’t hold all my cum?”

god, atsumu doesn't ever shut up, he's always such a talker, knowing how embarrassed it makes you.

“c’mon, say it, angel, say it f' me, pretty please?”

“a…atsumu, i can’t hold all of your cum…’s comin’ out, ‘tsumu, you're making me messy.”

he wasn’t expecting you to actually do it, god, he really wasn't, but you did and now his eyes are fluttering as they roll back into his skull.

don't cum, don't cum, don't cum, he chants to himself, feeling himself nearly lose it just from your words.

a choked groan forces its way out of his mouth, you're just too fucking hot for him. he can't think of anything but you, your pretty face, your soft body, and your insanely wet cunt.

“s’okay, s’okay, fuck, i’ll-i'll fuck ya, pumpkin, 't-'tsumi's gonna fuck ‘n’ fill ya up over ‘n’ over again, 'til y'can't keep it all inside, gotta stuff you with my cum, make you cream around my cock, need it, need it.”

atsumu is absolutely gone, now fully pressing into you as he fucks you into the mattress. each thrust makes you cry his name, fingers digging into his back as he puts you into a mating press, his heavy balls slapping against your ass, so ready to pump another hot load into you.

it's too much, the drag of his cock and the way it was so deep inside you. tears prick the corners of your eyes, each thrust making your brain slowly turn into nothing but mush. you hate the mess, you really do, but hearing atsumu so desperate does something for you.

you...you want it, you want him to mess you up.

your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer as you moan and pant against his ear.

“a-atsumu, honey,” you coo to him, savoring the stuttering of his hips and the quiet hiss of ‘fuck’ you get out of him from the sound of your voice. “please, please fuck me more, fuck me, fill me up, stuff my pussy with your cum, h-honey, mark me nice a-an' deep, okay?”

everyone in the world knows that atsumu miya would give you the world if you asked. so you want to be filled up nice and full? then, he'll give you what you want, take such good care of you and make sure you feel him dripping out of you for days.

“yeah, yeah, fuck, good girl. take this cock, take it like a good girl, so good, my pretty girl, fuck! s-she takes this cock so well, wish you could see how good ya look stretched 'round me like this, baby, ohmyfuckin'goddd.”

you can't stop yourself, pulling him into a sloppy, desperate, the need to taste him overwhelming as your hands get tangled in his hair. he pulls away, panting into your mouth as his thrusts get harder and sloppier.

it's just a fucking mess now, your slick and cream and his cum are coating his abdomen and thighs, dripping everywhere. each thrust has you splashing on him from how fucking wet you are, and atsumu feels like he's gonna fucking faint if he tries to hold off his orgasm for much longer.

“'tsumu, 't-tsumu, 'tsumu—!"

“t-tell me ya want it, baby girl, p-please? c-c'mon, tell me y'want my fuckin' cum inside ya, n-need ta hear it,” he begs against your mouth, eyes watery as desperate tears threaten to spill.

you can't think, can't give a coherent response as you babble, the word ‘please’ falling from your lips over and over again. you just want him to stop talking and kiss you again as he pumps your needy hole full of his seed, until you can't take anymore, until it spurts out from around his cock.

but then, he stops.

a strangled sob leaves you the second his hips stop moving. it's borderline painful, you're so fucking close. just a few more thrusts and you'd be creaming all over his thick cock, tugging and pulling on his hair as your slick squirts all over him.

but no, atsumu fucking stopped.

you look at him with teary eyes, silently begging him to explain. this is just unfair to both of you! but atsumu only gives you a cocky grin, and you have to stop yourself from flicking his nose.

he grants you some relief, rolling his hips gently as his hand slides up to cup the back of your head as he pepper your sweaty cheek in open mouthed kisses. he's so annoying, you love him so bad.

“dunno, pumpkin, don' think ya begged enough f'me. hmm...i’ll give ya one more shot, baby…tell me how fucking much ya want my fuckin’ cum in yer pretty cunt and make ya a creamy lil' mess."

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

[magicians-abode]

"What flavor was it...?"

[Ken Takakura/Okarun x gn!reader]

Warnings: fluff - long fic(?

Sitting on his lap with each leg placed comfortably beside his as he sat on the soft mattress, you gently but generously applied lipgloss over your lips once again. "Don't look, alright? I'm watching you," you murmured, teasing the poor guy as he nodded, kepping his eyes tightly shut as you had instructed. By now both of you had lost count of how many times your lips had clashed together in a sweet dance, or how many times you had applied lipgloss over your soft lips, or how many times, due to his nerves, Ken had guessed the flavor incorrectly, making you reapply it once again and try over and over until he got the flavor right.

Having lipgloss wasn't just good for whenever you wanted to feel pretty, it was also good for teasing the hell out of your poor boyfriend, like right now, and you couldn't be more taken by the sight of his reddened cheeks as he patiently waited for you to say he could open his eyes again.

He nervously fixed his glasses over the bridge of his nose despite having them shut in a nervous gesture before speaking in a shaky and rather high-pitched voice. "A—are you done... yet?"

With a loud popˎˊ˗ of your lips, you set the tube of shiny gloss behind him on the bed and grin. "Yup, all ready." His eyes flutter open, and he fixes his glasses once again with timidity. His eyes meet yours as he does, but then, they fall to the culprit of his nerves, of his almost sweaty palms. He swore he could feel them begin to sweat, he swore it. And it was terribly embarrassing. Takakura gulped, and before he could say anything, you leaned back in, pressing your lips against his.

His hand moved up to cup your face shakily as he closed his eyes once more, and even though your lips felt like heaven itself and he oh so badly wanted to get lost in the dizzying feeling they caused, he made his best efforts to focus on what flavor you had reapplied on them just for him this time.

After a good minute or two, he pulls away, breathless and in slight awe of your kiss. "Is it... Cherry?" He whispers, trying to guess correctly.

"We already used the cherry-flavored one, pretty boy," you say with a teasing smile, and it makes him avert his eyes, hoping you can't notice just how embarrassed you make him feel. "L—let me try again..." he mutters bashfully, already leaning forward on his own. The hand on your cheek moves to hold onto the back of your head tenderly instead. It's sweet and gentle, almost like he's afraid to touch you too harshly and accidentally hurt you. He'd be mortified if it happened, that's for sure.

His lips move against yours with sweetness, and despite how nervous he feels, he makes sure to let it be known that he loves this by kissing you slowly and taking his time. Takakura's lips are surprisingly soft, making them addictive and so, so kissable. You feel his round glasses touch your nose as he tilts his face to the side to deepen the kiss slightly.

With furrowed brows in concentration, he mulls over about the flavor in his head. "They said it's not cherry... but... I'm not sure what it is." He tilts his head to the other side and gently leans forward. "Maybe... strawberry? Or grapes? It's so soft... their lips feel so nice..." he pulls away again, this time more confused than before. "I... are you s—sure it's not cherry flavored, (y/n)?" He mumbles tentatively "I—It's very sweet."

"I'm pretty sure. But... if you give up, I'll tell you." Takakura blinks and instinctively tries to look behind him at the small collection of flavored gloss you hid from his view but finds his face gently being guided back to face you. "Nuh-uh, that's cheating" you pout, and he nods, flustered by your gesture. "R—right, I'm sorry, I—I just can't... get it right." he stutters, scratching the back of his head.

"Well then, it's a good thing we have aaall day, right?" You smirk. "Let's try again."

After repeating the process of closing his eyes tightly, reapplying your lipgloss, and kissing once again, Ken pulls away, breathless, a small string of saliva connecting your lips. He wipes it away quickly, feeling his hands shake with embarrassment. "I— I think I got it" he quickly speaks, looking to the side. "Is it— Is it peach... maybe?" He squints, an eyebrow raised hoping to finally get it right this time around. His heart is going to explode if he doesn't; he can feel it, beating like a bird trapped inside a cage.

Clapping your hands together a few times in applause, you grin. "Yeah, you got it this time, Okarun!"

"N—no way!" He smiles brightly with excitement, but his cheerfulness is quickly replaced by confusion as he shakes his head. "Wait, really? Peach flavor? That... that's not what it tastes like."

"Well it's an artificial flavor, it's obviously not going to taste like the real thing" you flick his forehead playfully with clear amusement in your voice. He rubs his forehead, letting a soft "ow..." and looks into your eyes. "H—How many did I guess so far?" He smiles sweetly, and you can't help but realize how adorable he looks each time he does.

"Hm..." you look behind him at the ones you've already used "seems like we only tried four different ones" you answer, and his eyes widen comically.

"Four?! Just four?!" He feels his face heating up again and he gulps nervously. "But we've been here for a really long time!" He looks at the clock on your bedside table, which shows the numbers 5:34 p.m., you've been kissing for a whole hour already...

You laugh at his bashful reaction, finding it endearing. "What, you don't like kissing me for that long, Okarun?" You tease, obviously not meaning anything by it, but he's quick to shake his head.

"N—no, it's nothing like that! I really enjoy kissing you" his hands had moved down to gently rest over your hips "it's just... I don't know, I guess it's just really embarrassing..." mumbling softly, Ken looks away, avoiding your gaze.

"Well... if you need a break we can take one. Just say the word" you cup his face in your hands and stare lovingly at him, a gaze he returns just as intensely.

"N—no... I can— I can keep going. I want to keep going. I really... enjoy kissing you, (y/n)" he admits, and your lips stretch into a wide grin.

"Well then, let's keep going, shall we? We have like eight different flavors left for you to guess!"

"EIGHT?!" Takakura practically squeaks, but as he sees you grab a different tube of lipgloss, his eyes fall closed. "You're going to make me pass out" he stutters a protest, but in all honesty, despite feeling like his world was spinning each time he kissed you, he found it was a rather beautiful way to go if he did happen to die thanks to the embarrassment. He could keep kissing you for the rest of his life, nothing else really mattered at all.

(A/N: oh my gosh! This took a really long time and so much effort for me to finish. I didn't want to just leave it in my notes like so many other ones so I did my best. Please do tell me if there's anything wrong, I feel like reading it seems kinda funny but it could be just the fact that I've been re-reading it over and over to check for any mistakes. I hope you enjoy it!!)

[yanderenightmare]

TW: nsfw, dubcon, hybrid au, size difference

fem reader

Thinking up so many tasty tidbits about hybrid au… 

Being a normal human girl mating a beast and constantly needing to plant your hands at your hips and give him a firm “no” as though speaking down to an actual dog – and how fucking odd it is to him that you express free will as though you shouldn’t naturally submit to him like a normal female would when approached by a male – bearing your wet pussy for him and just begging him to breed you full...

It’s only natural for your beast boyfriend to mount you without asking – like you’re only two animals mating out in the wild. So you can imagine the dumbfounded look slapped on his face when you refuse – saying you’re busy with your hand placed on his chest, giving him a push that doesn't make him budge but manages to make his tail droop until it’s sweeping the floor. 

It’s so unnatural to him. You’re a female, and he’s a bull. You should be bending over the second you see him, not ignore him – and definitely not reject him.

Like... he expects you to roll over and let him make you his bitch, but instead, you’re walking circles around him while laying down something you call “ground rules.” Telling him he has to stop biting your neck unless he wants to wear a muscle – that he has to shower at least once every other day or else you won’t touch him – and that he has to stop scenting you with that heady musk that smells of sweaty ballsack and dickcheese oryou’re not letting him touch you at all.

It all makes him pout with a gruff – almost growling at you, thinking a weakling like you should have no say over an alpha like him. And yet he’s on his knees for a taste of your pussy at the end of every day despite it – acting as though he cannot rest without it, as though he would starve to death.

In the end, he does everything you ask – just like a tamed pet. It’s cute.

He was so, so very skeptical when you’d convinced him to allow you to be on top for once. He was so rigid, lying there, belly-up – watching your every move with a predator’s glare as though he planned to pounce on you at any given moment – looking a mix of confused and aroused when you rolled your hips and rode him – hissing and grumbling beneath his breath as though he didn’t exactly know what to do with himself except lie there and take it. 

But although you’re able to convince him of most things, there are still those instincts you’ll never win against…

The way he just huffs and ignores you when you tell him to pull out instead of flooding your womb with cum – kneading his cock into your deepest parts while pinning you flat in a mating press that has your feet going behind your head. 

Not to mention that time you tried making him wear a condom – to which he only snorted as if it were some bad joke he didn’t find funny – rearing your cunt with his raw cock leaking pre, telling you to stop fooling around and start begging to be bred full of his pups like a good bitch.

BNHA – Bakugou, Kirishima, Hawks

JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Gojo, Toji,

DS – Sanemi, Akaza, Inosuke, Genya

[comically-callous]

Can I request headcanons for Kurt, Remy, Logan, and Wade finding out that his gn s/o has never dated anyone else before him please?

X-Men requests YAYYYYY YAY YAY YAY YAY!!!!!!!! 🤸🏃🤸🏃🤸🏃🤸🏃🤸🏃

Wade, Logan, Remy, and Kurt with a s/o who hasn’t dated anyone other than them!! <3

Warnings!: cursing ig, reader is referred to as pretty (I consider that gender neutral, but wanted to put it here just in case), and that’s it!

A/n: Want them all ngl 😞 If it wasn’t already clear, I’m delighted to have my first X-Men request. And I also really like this prompt (definitely not because I can relate to it. Haha, shut up). Also, requests: OPEN 💜

Wade:

He straight up thinks you’re lying when you first tell him. He even laughs because he’s convinced you’re just messing with him.

But, then he realizes you’re not laughing and he’s like “Oh, shit. Really?”

He’ll apologize for laughing and probably say some shit like “Sorry, I just didn’t realize a smoke show like you was capable of being single”

And he means it. He was fully under the impression that you’d been on more than a few dates because you’re HOT

Definitely teases you about it. “Is that why your hands were so sweaty on our first date?”

Don’t be afraid to (playfully) smack him.

Despite all of the teasing, he makes sure to let you know that it doesn’t bother him. In fact, he thinks it’s cute

He’ll say that you’re “new to dating” even if the two of you have been dating for years

Starts calling you a rookie. And he ends up saying it so much that it just becomes one of the many pet names he has for you

And, yeah. When you’re not around he’s probably giggling and kicking his feet over how he’s your first boyfriend 🤭

Logan:

When you first tell him, he just looks at you for a second, not saying anything before going “You’re serious?”

“And you decided I’d be a good first pick?” He says it like he’s teasing, but, in reality, it does confuse him a bit.

Like, wouldn’t you want someone sweet and kind for your first relationship? Not a grumpy, old guy with knife hands???

Nonetheless, he’s grateful (and even honored) to be given the title of your first boyfriend

He doesn’t make a huge deal out of it. He’ll occasionally bring it up, maybe ask a question or two about it. But, it doesn’t really change anything about your relationship.

Or, at least, that’s what you think for a while.

One night, he returns from a long mission and he crawls into bed next to you, and you think he’s just gonna immediately go to sleep like he does every time he comes back from a mission. But, then he mumbles something.

“I wish I’d had someone like you as my first.”

And before you can even process it, he’s asleep.

You ask him about it in the morning and he says he doesn’t remember saying it. You can decide whether or not you think he’s lying.

Remy:

You tell him that you want to tell him something, and he can tell you’re nervous about it.

“What’s got you so nervous, chère? You know Gambit don’t judge nobody. ‘Specially not you.”

And you confess to him that you’ve never dated anyone and he’s like. “Oh. That’s it?”

He doesn’t mean to sound apathetic. He was just expecting something bad.

He asks you to clarify what you mean by “not dating anyone before him” because he thinks he somehow misunderstood you

“You telling me no one ever tried to get with a pretty thing like you?” And then he smirks. “Or were you just ignorin’ all of ‘em till Gambit came round?”

He also teases you about it from time to time. Makes little comments about how he’s your first.

But, it’s just because he loves it.

He often thinks about how he’s the only guy who’s gotten to take you on dates and do all this romantic stuff with you

“Don’t no one else know what they missing out on….”

Kurt:

He doesn’t even try to hide his surprise. He can’t.

“I’m really your first? But, how? You are so beautiful!” He’s just upfront with why he thinks it’s absurd.

He needs to hear it a few more times before he finally accepts it. And that’s when he starts getting giddy.

“I am your first lover?” He grins. “I like that, I think.”

And now everyone has to know. Sorry.

He will gladly go around and tell people that he’s your “first love” (as he likes to say). Is it usually embarrassing for you? Yes. But, it’s Kurt. So, it’s okay.

So, yeah. You definitely don’t have to worry about whether or not he minds it.

Of course, now he has to ask a bunch of questions about it too.

“So, was the first date you’ve ever had with me?” If you say yes, he smiles before asking. “Was it good?” Like he doesn’t already know the answer.

He’s just over the moon that he was the first person that you really fell in love with. And he wants you and everyone around you to know how happy he is with you.

[slttygeto]

STICKY | TOJI & SHIU

note: is this the part 2 of that one toji and shiu threesome? yes. yes it is. 👀

cw: overstimulation, crying, oral, cunt slaps, toji is a little mean.

“rub her clit, she likes that.”

despite being so possessive of you, toji finds himself sitting on the other side of the L shaped couch while shiu pounded into you with everything he got. your soft “ah”s and the heart eyes you gave the man drilling his cock into you should’ve made toji mad, it should’ve angered him—but fuck, he was so turned on.

“fuck meee,” shiu grunts under his breath and his rough hands hold the back of your thighs as he pushes your legs to your chest. he chuckles to himself when you gasp in surprise, feeling him deeper inside you. while toji was the whole package, both girth and length size, shiu was a bit longer with a fat tip that kept nudging at your walls in a dizzying manner.

“fuck, she knows how to take dick,” shiu praises you as though you’re not even there, furrowed eyebrows and sweaty forehead making him look even more attractive.

“of course she does,” your boyfriend says, a little pissed. “should see her when i come back after a long mission.”

“needy?” shiu looks over his shoulder with a grin.

“she hops on my dick like a bitch in heat,” toji finally stands up from the couch and makes his way towards the both of you. he kneels down and his hand strokes your tear stained cheeks and brushes the hair sticking to your face.

“spreads those legs for me, lets me eat that pussy til I memorize the shape—you’re too good for me, aren’t you?” you nod eagerly and part your lips. toji’s thumb brushes your bottom lip and when you try to lick at his finger, he simply pushes it down on your tongue and turns to shiu.

“pull out.”

the command brings you out of your hazy state and you’re about to complain. shiu might’ve been teasing you for the past hour, but you were still close. so close.

“toji—“ you try to keep shiu’s dick inside you but your boyfriend gently smacks your wrist and clicks his tongue.

“can’t believe you’re begging for another man’s cock. am I not enough for you?”

“n-no! no you’re so good—“ you let out a small squeak when toji grips your hips and turns you his way. his mouth lands directly on top of your clit and your back arches off of the couch as you gasp for air.

“fuck,” shiu whispers under his breath, hand stroking his dick slow at the sight. toji was a messy eater for sure, drool and arousal started to pool beneath you the louder you got, and your hands knew better than to grip his hair. you held onto his face while his tongue flicked your clit a couple of times before pressing hard on it. he sucked, licked and kissed until your body was twitching with every touch.

he doesn’t break eye contact, staring into your soul the whole time he is sucking on your clit, teasing your folds with his middle and ring fingers—and when he pushes into your tight hole—your entire body stiffens up.

“oh my god—!” toji doesn’t show mercy as he fingerfucks you, a hand pressing down on your stomach whilst he pistons his fingers in and out of you at an inhumane pace. you spread your legs wider, hands gripping the pillow and your body arching off of the couch when his thumb brushes against your sensitive clit.

“yeah baby, yeah,” toji’s grin is wide as he praises you. “fucking give it to me, make a mess on my fingers dirty girl—show him how dirty you can be for me.” you whimper at the mention of shiu. you forgot he’s there and you try your best not to stare at him—but the wet sound of his cock gliding against his hand is hard to ignore and your eyes land on him.

shiu looks like a mess. wet strands stuck to his sweaty forehead and his flushed cheeks making your eyes roll to the back of your head. you can’t take this. two hot men in one room with you—one ruining your pussy whilst the other ruins his cock to the image of you getting your pussy destroyed.

“make a mess baby, give it to me—“ you don’t realize you’re squirting all over toji until he starts rubbing your clit fast, a chuckle escaping his lips.

“yeaaaah, fuck yeah!”

“toji!” you squeal and try to close your legs when he slaps your cunt, a sob rips from the back of your throat when he does it again and you have to hold onto his shoulders.

“oh my god, oh my god-“ you’re certain you’re gonna pass out. and very soon.

shiu pushes toji out of the way and you’re surprised that your boyfriend didn’t grab his gun and shot the man at the gesture—but instead he watches as the usually composed man gets lost between your legs, tongue lapping at your juices and nose brushing against your overstimulated clit.

“please—“ you sob and your hands land on shiu’s head, trying to push him away.

“can’t give me one, princess? just one?” at this point there are tears streaming down your face, but shiu reaches towards you and wipes your cheeks with his thumb.

“I know you can do it,” he says before landing a kiss to your stomach. “for me.”

“oi,”

He drags his tongue down to your pussy and you shudder. “for toji.”

“don’t push it.”

shiu doesnt even acknowledge your boyfriend as he lays his tongue flat against your clit. your thighs shake, but you know you can take it—you will cum fast, but you can take it.

and it doesn’t take you long before your suffocating shiu between your thighs, the man having to keep your legs open as his lips wrap around your clit and he laughs at you writhing under his touch.

“good girl,” he starts to climb on top of you, his teeth playfully biting your nipple and you gasp in surprise. “you did so well.”

2024 © all works belong to @slttygeto. do not repost, translate or steal any of my works.

[froggibus]

hiiiii :3 idk if ur taking reqs for dc right neow but a thought that tickles my brain rlly good is dick grayson/reader w a praise kink and dick exploits it n uses it to his advantage.... preferably afab reader but gn is fine :P

CTRL + H - Dick Grayson

Pairing: Dick Grayson x fem! best friend! reader (uses fem pronouns + has a pussy)

Genre: smut/NSFW

Word Count: 4.1k

Summary: when your best friend discovers porn in your browser history while fixing your computer, he decides to use it to his advantage

CW: friends to lovers, lots of praise, uses of ‘good/pretty/lovely girl’ dick calls you sweetheart/angel, dick is CORNY I’m sorry, mentions of porn/asmr porn, teasing, gaslighting (but not really), fingering, marking, unprotected sex, lots of sweat (its sexy i swear), dick fucks you over a desk, kinda rough sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, implied to be summer, i think thats it??

hey hi 👽 anon, thanks for the request! im sorry it took so long, it wasn't meant to be this long i swear, i just got caught up in the thought of Dick being all hot and sweaty and praising you while fucking you >~< and yeah this happened. really hope you like it (but if you don't, let me know and ill totally rewrite it!) lots of love yes i took an extra 30 mins to find nightwing #83 to take a picture of the comic book to make this banner lol

As if having Dick Grayson look at your search history wasn’t bad enough, now you have to live with the mortifying ordeal of him knowing you have a praise kink.  

When you had first invited him over to take a look at your malfunctioning computer, you’d thought nothing of it. You figured he would turn it on and off again, maybe update some drivers. So when he suddenly clicked into your browser and began scrolling through the long, long list of websites you’ve visited, you weren’t sure how to react. 

You noticed it at the same time as him, the glowing screen forcing you to freeze where you stand. There on the screen, from just last night, read: praise nsfw asmr. You swallow hard and lunge for the mouse to click out of your browser history, but breathe a sigh of relief when Dick does it first. 

There’s a beat of silence, your racing thoughts deafeningly loud as you try to come up with a reason to kick him out. Fanning your face as if that will help chase away the heat of the day, you swallow once more in an attempt to work some moisture back into your mouth. 

“F—find anything?” You say as casually as you can. 

It’s ridiculous how embarrassed you are, honestly. He’s just your friend, it’s just porn, it’s not like it’s the end of the world. Still, the rattling of your heart against your rib cage and his cruelly quiet silence make it feel like it is. 

He shakes his head. “Not so far, I should keep looking but—“ he flicks his eyes up your body, perfect blues tracing your every curve, “you seemed flustered.”

You raise your hands in denial all too quickly, your sweaty palms stretched out towards him. Dick raises an eyebrow, examining you in the way he does with strangers in coffee shops. 

“I just…don’t see how my search history is relevant, I guess. That’s all.”

He grabs your wrists, lowering your arms from the defensive position they’ve taken. Despite the familiarity of his touch, something feels off, different in a way you can’t explain. You shake the thought away. 

The world has not shifted on its axis because your best friend suddenly knows what kind of porn you’re into. 

His touch lingers on your wrist and he uses the leverage to gently pull you closer to where he sits at your desk. When he finally drops your wrist, a chill circles the space where his hand once was, refreshing your feverish skin.

“I just want to make sure you haven’t accidentally picked up a virus somewhere. If we can find one in your history, it’ll be much easier to get rid of it.”

The explanation only half seeps into the mush your brain has turned into under his gaze and you find yourself nodding without quite understanding. 

You were fooling yourself by inviting him here. While asking for his help was cheaper than hiring a professional, having him so close to you almost hurts—especially when lately you’ve been trying to force away the feelings you’ve harboured for him. 

“So,” Dick says again, “won’t you be a good girl and let me fix your computer for you?”

His words force you out of your thoughts, purely by short circuiting your brain. You blink at him with wide eyes, your heart pounding in your chest. 

“W—what did you say?”

“I just asked if I could fix your computer now.” 

You tilt your head in confusion. Did you mishear him, or did he call you ‘good girl’? He flashes you that signature smirk of his, his blue eyes suddenly dark with something you don’t recognize. 

Though everything on his face reads innocent, something not-so innocent lurks beneath the surface. Something that stares you down and screams ‘challenge me’. 

“Yeah.” You swallow. “I guess that’s fine.” You take a deep breath and try to steady the spinning in your head. 

Dick continues his work nonchalantly, hitting a few keys and opening your browser history once more. You turn your eyes away from the screen, instead focusing on the way your fingers grasp the desk until it hurts. 

You listen to him scroll for a while and try to pretend like he’s not looking through the most intimate part of your life. The idea of him seeing that part of you excites you as much as it nauseates you—a lethal combination. 

“You can relax.” Dick hums. 

You lift your head to look at him just to see him focused completely on the screen. You don’t dare glance at what he’s so focused on. 

“Why not sit down? This could take a while.” He says calmly. “I’m sure you’ll feel much better if you do.” 

You roll your shoulders. “I think I’ll just stand.”

There’s a shift in his eyes as if your words sparked something in them. He finally glances away from your screen, completely focusing on you with a newfound intensity. You want to shrink from his gaze, to run down the hall and hide in your broom closet, but you stay rooted in place. 

“It would help me a lot if you sit down. Don’t you want to be a good girl and help me out?” 

Holy fuck. “What did you just say?”

It feels like you’re waiting an eternity for him to speak again, your heart beating a mile a minute. He’s going to deny it, or make fun of you even more or worse—tell Wally about it. 

He pats his lap. “Come sit with me,” he purrs, “be a good girl, keep me company while I work.”

In your shock, you find yourself shuffling towards him and settling in his lap. Dick helps you adjust, tugging you back to his chest and keeping one arm around you while his other reaches for the mouse once more. 

He’s so close to you that you can feel the beating of his heart, his breath on your neck. You close your eyes and pray that he can’t feel the heartbeat that’s suddenly appeared between your legs.

You can’t remember a single time he’s been this close to you, a single time he’s touched you like this. The sudden proximity makes you dizzy, butterflies taking flight in your tummy. You clench the arm rests on either side in an attempt to keep your cool.

Dick shifts behind you, one of his thighs gently brushing your clit in a way that makes you squirm. “Don’t do that!” 

His hand slides from your waist to grip your thigh, a shiver running up your spine at the contact. “Don't do what? This?” He repeats the motion.

You squeak, lurching forward in an attempt to get away from the friction. You tilt too far and suddenly you’re falling head over heels towards the mat beneath your chair. Dick is quicker than that, wrapping one arm around your chest and another around your waist to tug you harshly back to him.

“Don’t do that,” you repeat breathlessly, “please.”

He rests his chin on your shoulder, soft strands of black hair tickling your cheek. “Why not? Use your words, angel.”

The nickname reignites something inside of you, rekindling a fire between your legs. You clench them together in the hopes it will do something to muffle the throbbing, but when you feel Dick smirk against the side of your neck, you know you’ve failed.

When you don’t answer him, he grins his knee between your legs once more, an innocent hum prompting you.

“You’re—fuck, you’re kneeing me in the cunt.”

Dick’s not sure if it’s from your brazen words or how entirely ridiculous this whole afternoon has been, but suddenly he’s laughing. A big, open mouthed, creasing at the corners of his eyes, laugh. 

His laugh surprises you enough to summon one of your own, sending you both into a fit. You shift on his lap to look at him, wrapping your arms around his neck to support yourself while the two of you laugh. It’s stupid and ridiculous and you’re not quite sure what you’re laughing at—just that you are. 

You’re laughing and laughing and suddenly his lips are on yours and his eyes are closed and—fuck, he’s kissing you. And then you’re not laughing anymore, your hands brushing up his neck and tangling in his hair. He’s not laughing anymore either, his hands gripping your waist like he expects you to leave at any moment.

You’re breathless when you pull away, refusing to open your eyes and face the reality in front of you. Because maybe the world didn’t shift on its axis when he learned your porn preferences, but it definitely has because he just kissed you.

He taps your cheek gently, using that terribly calm voice he does whenever you start spiralling. “Y/n.” He coos, “open your eyes, y/n.”

You bite your lip, shaking your head in refusal. You know as soon as you do, you’ll have to confront your feelings for him, and his for you, and all of that is just too much and god, when did it get so hot in here? 

You open your eyes one at a time, casting them down to where your thighs rest on his. Your hands come together, fingers twirling in your lap just to give you something to focus on other than the throbbing in your clit and the weight of Dick’s eyes on you.

He drags a finger down your overheating cheeks, tracing the outline of your jaw and tipping your head up to face him. His blue eyes are lined with something new, something darker—a need you’ve never seen before. 

“Look at me.” There’s a commanding tone to his voice before it softens, “c’mon, please?”

You finally force yourself to meet his eyes, the familiar ultramarine calming the sudden bite of your nerves. “Only cause you asked so nicely,” you say quietly. 

“Good girl,” he smiles and it feels like the sun pushing through rain clouds. He strokes your cheek gently, his thumb landing on your cupid's bow. 

You shiver beneath his touch despite the unbearable heat of the day. While his finger on your lips threatens to send you flying away, spiralling into space, his other does the opposite. His grip on your hip is tight, fingers digging in and sure to leave behind bruises. 

“Can I kiss you again?” He asks quietly. 

It’s only a small mercy that your nod doesn’t prompt another ‘good girl’ from him, or some other horribly delightful variation of it. However, when his lips brush yours and his hand slides to the base of your throat, all of the thoughts melt away. There’s no embarrassment, no overthinking, just raw emotion and the sensation of his skin on yours. 

You shift in his lap, sliding one of your thighs over his so you can straddle him. Dick offers a guiding hand while you slide forward, half steadying you, half tugging you closer. You shimmy up the length of his jeans until you’re as close as possible, your stomach pressing into his toned abs. 

A gasp leaves your throat when your clit brushes the very edge of the bulge in his jeans, the noise only edging him along. His teeth graze your bottom lip, both gentle and desperate, before his tongue slips into your mouth. 

The taste of him is intoxicating, consuming you until you’re grabbing his cheeks with both hands to pull him as close as possible. You whine when his cock grazes your clit again and Dick breaks the kiss to let out a breathy laugh against your lips. 

“Someone’s needy,” he teases, but his eyes are rimmed with dark and when he looks at you through his lashes, all you see is need. 

“Back at you.”

His palm sticks to your cheek with sweat when he goes to pull it away. “You’ve been so good for me today,” he hums, his other hand trailing up your thigh. “Let me take care of you, yeah?”

You mumble a breathy ‘please’ before his fingers are brushing your clit through your pants, the heat pooling in your panties near insatiable. You tighten your grip on him and bury your face in the tight black fabric of his t-shirt to muffle your heavy breathing.

While one hand rubs intense figure eights up the length of your pussy, his other hand is fiddling with the buttons of your pants. He sighs in triumph at the soft popping noise and then the fabric is pulling away from your skin, Dick somehow managing to tug them down with only one hand. 

You shift in his lap and prop yourself up on your knees to give him better access while he drags the fabric down your thighs. He takes advantage of your position to spin you to face your monitor once more, leaning back in the chair so you’re reclined against his muscled chest.

Warm breath fans the overheating skin of your neck just where your shirt meets your skin. Two calloused fingers dip into the waistband of your underwear, skimming the warmth and slick of your cunt. Dick sucks in a breath, his pants suddenly too tight.

“You really are needy,” he swallows hard. “Lovely, needy girl.”

His words only serve as a catalyst to the intense need you feel in your core, amplifying your desire tenfold. The pad of his index finger brushes your clit and you’re suddenly a goner. Your eyes squeeze shut and you throw your head back, imagining the circles of Dick’s fingers in your mind.

He gently kisses at the neckline of your shirt, his lips soft against the sensitive skin. His tongue runs across the sensitive skin there in tandem with the moving of his hand, the duality sending shockwaves through you. You have to bite your lip to keep from crying out his name.

His wrist slides further into your underwear, fingers moving away from your swollen clit to run along the rim of your aching pussy. You suck in a breath, not moving an inch while you anticipate what’s to come.

Dick sucks a dark mark into your neck. “Ready f’me?” He mumbles into your skin.

You eagerly nod, trying to shift your hips into his fingers and shove them inside of you, but Dick moves away. You frown, lazily looking over your shoulder at him.

“You have to use your words.”

You almost roll your eyes but in your desperation, let your head hang in defeat and open your trembling mouth. “I-I’m ready Dick,” you say, quietly adding, “please.”

“Good girl.” 

Then he’s suddenly slipping a finger inside of you, travelling the length of your spongy walls to sit deep inside of you. A gasp rips through you, his name tumbling off your lips faster than you can catch it. He grips your hip to steady you, strong fingers bruising the exposed skin.

He curls his finger inside of you, prodding at that sweet fucking sensitive spot. He only stops when you whine, slipping his finger out for only a second before shoving it back in. He repeats the motion, starting a rhythm of thrusting in and out, his hand on your hip tapping along in tandem.

You squirm in his lap, that ball in the centre of your stomach turning white hot and growing until you can barely contain it. One of your hands squeezes his wrist—whether to stop or encourage him, you don’t know.

“Dick,” you whine, your voice taking on a raspy tone you hardly recognize.

He hums in response. “Does that feel good?”

“S-so good.”

He rewards you by slipping his other finger inside of you, the two of them working in unison. His fingers are so long and thick that they reach places inside you that you’ve never been able to touch on your own, stretching your walls just enough to make your eyes roll back.

The impending waves of your orgasm roll over you, that knot in your core so tight that you know it's bound to undo any second. You squeeze his wrist tighter in warning, your fingers pressing into his veins until you can feel the steady thrum of his blood pulsing. 

Dick slips his hand from your waist up your shirt, palming your tit. “Cum for me,” he murmurs. “You’ve earned it, sweetheart.”

His words walk you right over the edge, that knot finally coming undone and sending wave after wave of molten pleasure through you. Every muscle in your body contracts, your pussy squeezing his fingers so tightly it almost hurts. Both your hands clench around the wrist currently in your underwear. Holding him steady while you ride out your high on his fingers.

Dick holds you, keeping you stable while you gush and thrash wildly in his lap. He can feel your slick soak through the fabric of his jeans, his thighs warm with your juices, but he can’t bring himself to care. 

He trails kisses up your neck to your jaw, your cheeks and finally, tips your head back until he can plant soft, chaste kisses to your lips. His wrist aches from how hard you squeeze him but he doesn’t dare pull away until your muscles are relaxing and you let out your first, panting breath.

“Feel good?” He prompts.

You shake your head vigorously, all sweaty hair and hot skin and aching lungs. Dick almost wishes he had a camera because the sight of you laying in his lap all fucked out is one he would love to savor and put in his wallet.

He shifts behind you, only now remembering his aching cock and how badly it yearns to be free of the denim confining it. “Think you could do one more? For me? It would make me feel so, so good, sweetheart.”

You don’t think twice about his words, lazily trapping his lips in a sloppy needy kiss and mumbling ‘yes’ against him. In your fucked out state, you’re only half sure that you’re even speaking, the world around you fading. Dick slips his hand out of your panties, his palm soaked with your juices, and rests it on your thigh. 

“I need you to stand up for me,” he says, only half asking. 

He helps you up on shaky knees, your pants that had been resting just above your knees dropping the rest of the way to the floor. You brace yourself against the desk, half bent over while Dick slowly tugs down your panties. The minute the sticky, soaked fabric peels away from your pussy, you gasp.

Dick stares at the mess he’s made of you proudly, your folds glistening with the slick of your last orgasm. He burns the image into his mind while he fumbles with the zipper of his jeans, standing behind you while he drags them to the floor with his boxers. His cock springs free, thick and dripping with pre cum, begging for you.

He strokes it absentmindedly, all of his thoughts only on you and your trembling thighs, bent so perfectly over the desk waiting for him. He lines the head of his cock up with your entrance, rubbing it through your folds and prodding your clit before repeating the process over again.

Each shift of his cock, each rock of his hips, forces shivers of anticipation down your spine. Heavy breaths leave your lips, your arms barely managing to hold your weight over the desk when you dip your head down to stare at him through the crook of your arm.

“Such a pretty pussy. So wet and needy,” he groans when he finally lets his cock rest at your entrance. “So ready for my cock.”

You nod even though he’s mostly talking to himself. You let your arms sag against the desk and rest your face against your forearm, the sweaty skin sticking to your forehead. Dick thrusts forwards and lets the head of his cock push inside of you.

Moans leave him the second he dips into your heat, the tip of his cock stretching you in a way that has both of your eyes rolling back. His fingers resume their earlier position on your hip, digging in so hard it almost hurts. 

He stills once his tip is nestled in your walls, listening to the whiny breaths you let out while you adjust to his size. Your clench your hands into fists, slightly shifting from left to right to help him fit better. He’s big, bigger than you expected, but the way he molds your walls to his cock is almost enough to have you cum right then and there.

Dick is so distracted by the sight of his cock dipped inside of you that he doesn’t remember to move. It’s only when you let out a needy whine and shuffle your hips backwards that he realizes you’ve been waiting so patiently for him.

He snaps his hips against yours, the head of his cock barreling so deep inside of you so quickly that it almost hurts. “Sorry, pretty girl,” he pants, “didn’t mean to make you wait.”

You try to tell him that it’s okay but you’re silenced with another hard thrust. You cry out his name into your arm, your teeth grazing at your skin in your attempt to be quiet. Dick grabs the other side of your waist, using his hands to push and pull you as he pleases.

You fall further against the desk, your body lazily resting against it while Dick’s hips snap into yours repeatedly. The room is filled with the sound of skin on skin, a chorus of your combined moans filling the empty space between thrusts. Each shift of his hips, each prod of his cock, only spurs you further along.

You squeeze your eyes shut, completely focused on his cock battering its way through your walls. You’re only vaguely aware of Dick talking to you, his praise sounding incoherent beneath the rush of blood to your ears. Your pussy flutters around him, his cock scraping your cervix with every thrust.

He thrusts particularly hard into you, his cock jamming hard into the very edge of your walls, forcing a loud cry from you. It aches as much as it pleases, and without thinking, you’re suddenly crawling forward across your desk. Dick tightens his grip on you before you can get very far, tugging you back hard against him and slamming your pussy down on his cock.

You nearly squeal from the pleasure, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. That familiar heat builds inside of you once more, spilling over more and more with each intense thrust.

“You’re taking me so well,” he coos. “So tight—god, it’s like your pussy was made for me. Fuck.”

His lewd words add to that growing knot inside of you and suddenly you’re coming undone in his arms. Everything is too hot, too much, too loud. Tears spill from your eyes and you’re barely aware of the half sobs, half moans you let out through your orgasm.

“That’s right, let it all out. Good girl, cumming around my cock like that.”

Dick holds you steady the whole time you cum, thrusts growing sloppy as your pussy sucks him in and tries to keep him inside of you forever. He’s almost as breathless as you while he watches you cum and the way your pussy seizes around him is enough to have him tumbling over the edge after you.

He wraps both arms around your waist, pulling your hips flush to his, before he lets the both of you fall back into the chair behind him. Your new position forces his cock deeper inside of you—as deep as it can go—and then he’s cumming inside of you.

You can barely feel the hot ropes of cum he spills inside of you while you come down from your own high. Your thighs shake where they rest over his and you’re grateful for him holding you. 

Dick lets his forehead rest in the crook of your neck, his sweaty hair wetting your t-shirt. Even after he’s done cumming, he holds you tightly against him, the two of you panting in sync.

It’s nearly five minutes later when you can finally bring yourself to speak, your hoarse voice evidence of the pounding you’ve just taken. “I take it you saw my browsing history?” are the first words out of your mouth.

Dick laughs, his voice gravelly and deep and sexy. “Yeah,” he says, kissing your cheek. “I did.”

You awkwardly turn in his lap, twitching at the way it adjusts his half-hard cock inside of you. You look up at his eyes, the blue finally starting to seep back in through the dark. He cups your face, his hand sweaty, and pulls you in for another kiss.

When you pull away, you can’t help but ask, “so, what now?”

“First, I think I should show you how to use Incognito Mode.”

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[rumisgf]

BAKUGOU BOYFRIEND HCS

summary: i’m getting katsuki brainrot again so here’s some boyfriend headcanons for the soul.

warnings: black!reader ofc, college!au, cursing, mentions of injury, suggestive if you squint, crack, feminine terms used

✧ first off, it was not easy to get to the point of dating. just because he’s so hyper focused on being a hero he definitely had to learn how to let somebody in his life, so y’all probably were in that talking stage for a hot minute before he finally asked you to be his 😭

✧ as a boyfriend though, bakugou’s very protective of you

✧ he always walk on the side closest to the street on the sidewalk, usually has a hand on the small of your back or on your hip, and insists he holds your hand while you cross the street

✧ never walk behind him. ever.

✧ it ends in him scolding you while grabbing you and shoving you in front or next to him

✧ he’s practically your bodyguard at this point, no one tries to approach you with bad intent when he’s with you

✧ when he’s not with you though, he still puts in an effort to make sure you’re good. he’s definitely a ‘call me when you get there’ and ‘call me when you get home’ type of boyfriend

✧ it’s known bakugou is very self disciplined. he goes to bed at 8:30, probably has a very good diet, and is keen on his hygiene. so naturally, he makes sure you do the same

✧ he makes sure you’re drinking enough water and if you’re hungry he’d much rather cook for you than order you something (also because cooking is his love language)

✧ and if your sleep schedule is messed up bakugou finds out….oh boy

✧ he’ll literally lift you up and carry you to bed when it gets around his own bedtime

“katsuki put me the fuck down!”

“it’s bed time, stop being a brat.”

✧ all in all, he actually enjoys taking care of you no matter how much he calls you a brat

✧ which, him calling you a brat is ironic, because bakugou acts like a bad ass little kid

✧ he’ll randomly cuss somebody out if they talk too much, he hates ties, he’ll do stupid dares denki tells him to do just to prove he can do it, and his every day mission is to get on your nerves

✧ he loves play fighting but he will not go easy on you

✧ your friends cannot take y’all in public without y’all randomly trying to tussle

✧ and of course he’s katsuki bakugou, so he likes to argue

✧ usually it doesn’t get too serious, it’s always over something so dumb he really just likes getting you mad because he thinks it’s cute

✧ but something bakugou also would never admit is he likes when you’re touchy or needy

✧ it makes him feel wanted

✧ he also constantly craves your comfort

✧ he does little things like coming straight to your dorm after a workout and laying directly on top of you while you’re laying down despite how sweaty he is

✧ leaning his head on your shoulder while you’re doing something so you can play with his hair

✧ acting grumpy when he wants your attention so you can eventually give in to him and give him forehead kisses

✧ he’s a big baby (but you love it)

✧ bakugou loves taking candid pictures of you. not only because he thinks you look so pretty but he heavily enjoys hearing you whine after you snap up and see his phone camera pointing at you

✧ despite what was stated earlier, he does like taking you to restaurants

✧ it’s an excuse for you to get all dressed up and for him to admire you

✧ as you can tell, he likes to give you princess treatment even though if anybody brings it up he’ll deny it profusely as his palms threaten to spark up explosions

✧ kirishima tried to tease him about it, that man barely made it out alive.

✧ bakugou pays for your nails, your lashes, your hair– anything you wanna get done he instantly is sending you money

✧ he goes all out of birthdays, brings you snacks for your classes, opens every door and pulls out every chair for you,

✧ and one time when all of bakusquad went out to eat, mina caught him cutting your food for you

“here give me that, ‘not even doin’ it right.”

“dude i got i-”

“hush, lemme see!”

“i said-”

✧ and he just started cutting your steak.

✧ speaking of, he’s very stubborn and has a particular way of doing things

✧ one time he tied your shoes for you because ‘you’re doing it the wrong way’

✧ mitsuki taught him the bunny ear method and he sticks to it to this day

✧ and he has his own weird way of loving you

✧ ‘stop being stupid’ always translates to ‘please be careful, i care about you’

✧ don’t get him wrong though, he loves bullying for you fun

✧ you cannot eat in peace around this man.

✧ ‘woah there little lady, you sure know how to put it away!’

✧ ‘damn, is it good???’

✧ you have to fight urges to smack him in the face on a daily basis

“…….eat! eat! ea-”

“SHUT THE FUCK-”

✧ whenever you accidentally scratch or cut yourself on something he scolds the hell out of you but is also the first one running to you

✧ it’s always him mumbling about how you need to be more careful while putting a bandage on your wound and gently kissing it after

✧ he drives you everywhere. you’ll never need an uber again dating this man

✧ you’re one of the only people who can genuinely make him laugh

✧ his friends got so shocked at first when you made a joke and he was crying laughing

✧ bakugou isn’t very fond of using social media, but when he does it’s mostly for you

✧ he’s one of the first to put you new posts on his story, and he always leave about three hearts under your comments

✧ maybe even a “so beautiful” or “my pretty girl” if he’s feeling giddy that day

✧ lastly, bakugou does not play about you.

✧ he will crash out about you any day he needs to and your wellbeing is his first priority

✧ he’s definitely gotten into fights over you and no matter how many times you tell him to chill, he doesn’t tolerate anybody who tries to disrespect you

✧ and anytime anybody even tries to hurt you, he nearly commits first degree murder

✧ he won’t say it out loud to other people but you’re truly his baby, and he cherishes you so much

✧ he never viewed himself as boyfriend material but for you, he really does try his hardest and it’s very apparent

@ rumisgf

[theealbatross]

isn't it delicate? (s.s.)

Plot: Sebastian is your best friend ... right?

or, Sebastian is being bullied (false), you can't possibly be falling in love with him (false), and he might have already, possibly, maybe, fallen in love with you too (true).

Tags: fluff on crack, jealousy, seb is a shit senior/lowkey bully (not rlly), imelda and ominis deserves reparations for their service to wizardkind, yandere!seb if u squint, kinda ooc but who cares, mentions of death and murder (rip anne, rot in hell solomon)

[A/N: This is me trying to beat writer's block if you even care. The scene in his dorm was so fucking difficult to write it was beating my ass. Anyways stream Delicate by T.Swizzle. Also, none of the photos are mine don;t sue me im poor]

Autumn was your favorite season – especially since it makes your short walks to Hogsmeade especially scenic.

After accepting defeat and admitting that you were hopeless at Herbology, you have made it a point to visit the Magic Neep every weekend to buy whatever you haven’t gathered yourself. The walk was a good excuse to get out from the walls of Hogwarts every now and then.

It’s surprising how loose the villagers are with their gossip when they’re just talking to a teenager. Plus, you do enjoy spending the afternoon with Mr. Timothy as he helps you improve your rubbish-handling skills with plants.

A noise from above alerts you that Imelda had the rookies on her team running drills just outside the quidditch field. The new players fight through the wind resistance as they make sharp turns and loops while they scream at each other in encouragement.

However, you can’t help but notice when one of them pointed at you while the other flew towards the stadium in a haste as if his broom had been on fire.  

Shrugging it off, you continued your pace, waving at familiar faces as you passed. You were just about to approach a couple of 2nd years you had been tutoring in Charms when there was a sharp breeze from above followed by a familiar silhouette dropping in front of you.

“Fun walk, pet?” he smirked when you jumped in surprise, roping you into a hug. From behind you, he casually shoo-ed off the 2nd years with a subtle flick of his head.

“Ew, Sebastian, no! You’re sweaty!”

Rather than acting like a gentleman, he drew you in close, leaning down to rub his cheeks against your neck despite your shrieks of protest as he lifted your feet off the ground.

Finally, you managed to push his stubborn form away, wiping away the skin that was now smeared in his sweat but he still managed to get ahold of your hand, pulling you close so you had to look up at him. Bastard.

Suddenly, it clicks, “Did you seriously have your rookies keep an eye on me?”

“It’s good practice,” He shrugged shamelessly, looking up at them in scrutiny, “Trains them to have sharp eyes, remain vigilant of their surroundings, and watch out for pretty witches on the ground that might be distracting while they’re in the skies.”

You slapped his chest, trying to ignore the burn on your face from his casually tossed compliments—and how solid he felt beneath his gear. “You and your brilliant ideas, Sallow.”

With the backbreaking, secret work (“You’ll see it soon enough, pet”) he does in Feldcroft to pass time along with the training he receives from Imelda along with a sprinkle of his glorious genetics, it was no wonder his social standing recovered as quickly as it did even when whispers of forbidden magic still followed him wherever he goes.

Not that he cared, you noticed. As he was clearly more than satisfied in spending his time with the same circle of friends despite the many girls that were bidding their time to steal him.

“Soooo, is there a real reason you had them monitoring me or is it just your unique form of torture?”

“Oh right,” you didn’t notice before but he had been carrying one of his satchels, digging into it to pull a grey knitted scarf that had an owl at the end of it. Before you could say anything, he was already wrapping it around your neck, even pulling up your hair for a second and tutting under his breath how ‘you never dress warm enough’. “It’s your scarf for autumn.”

It was tradition – something that started the first time you visited Feldcroft and he had let you borrow a spare scarf from his closet because you had lost yours in your haste to get to him. It was silly but that was the first time (aside from the troll) the two of you got into a real battle with only each other to watch the other’s back.

The scarf had become a source of comfort, especially on the nights that you had to do it on your own.

However, to Sebastian’s horror, you had worn the piece of cloth ragged. Refusing to let go of it because it was the first gift he had given to you. From then on, a compromise was established, he would be in charge of buying (and confiscating) your scarfs and you would pay him for it.

Only one of you held your end of the deal.

“And wear this,” he pushed your head on the hole of a sweater, helping you find the arms despite your grumblings about his fussing. “It’s getting colder now and you never wear your coat. And since we're always together, If you get sick that means I get sick. So please,” he glares at your petulant pout.  “Spare us both.”

“I’m sorry, mom,” you rolled your eyes. He pinched your cheeks painfully. “Hey!”

“No smart talk,” he chastises, chuckling. “And you better be back in the Great Hall once I’m finished here.”

You wave him off as you walk away. “Why? I like having you chase me around.”

“Don’t even think about it!” He screams, hands on his hips.

You laugh, poking your tongue out at him.

“Thanks for the scarf!”

“Do you have drills this weekend, ‘melda?”

Imelda stopped chewing her food to look at you with a raised, suspicious, brow. “No, why?”

You clapped your hands cheerfully, “I wanted to take Sebastian out on a day trip to Pitt-Upon-Ford before you guys start training for the upcoming game. One of the villagers told me a wild Dugbog was getting too aggressive and started killing their chickens.”

She nodded understandingly.

“Not the most romantic date but sure, just bring him back to the Quidditch Pitch in one piece by Monday.”

The nonchalant accusation plucked just the right string as your face morphed into a mixture of surprise, discomfort, and a hint of embarrassment. “It’s not a date! And how would you know what’s romantic?”

Imelda chuckled, raising her hands in mock surrender, “Alright, alright, don’t get your knickers in a twist.”

“Melda!” you shrieked, face heating up even more when you realized you had caught the attention of other students at the nearby tables. “I’m just worried about him.”

That made the Quidditch Captain frown, what is there to worry about? Is Sebastian having a tough time again? Imelda may be a bit dense regarding other people’s emotions but even she could tell losing his uncle and his twin sister in such quick succession had quite a toll on her friend.

It would take quite a toll on anyone.

But Imelda was sure he had been managing well, especially with his dearest witch by his side who, if the rumor mills were to be believed, basically spent all summer nursing him back to health. Not that she could blame her, from what Ominis told Imelda, Sebastian had damn near been catatonic and wouldn’t give anyone the time of the day unless it was you.

“Is he alright?”

You were quick to wave off her worries with a hand and a nervous smile, “No, he’s fine! Doing better than fine. It’s just … I’m worried he might be getting … bullied.”

In the confusion between laughing or swallowing or insisting that even a full-grown troll wouldn’t be able to bully Sebastian Sallow, Imelda instead choked on the pumpkin juice she was nursing.

“Imelda!”

She stops your fussing with a raised hand before speaking through the pain. “What *cough* What ever gave you such a ludicrous idea?”

You fiddle with your hands, clearly having kept this ceaseless worry for quite a bit of time. “Because Sebastian – ever since – he’s not particularly … very nice. Plus, there are all these ridiculous rumors of him being a dark wizard,” you roll your eyes but Imelda can still see the poorly concealed anxiety in them. “I’m scared he’s being ostracized. And I can’t be with him forever, you know.”

“Did you tell him that? Because I have a baaaad feeling the two of you aren’t on the same page.” Imelda is fairly certain Sebastian has already named their future children and dogs if you asked her. And if there was anyone that could have some sort of sway on that stubborn mule it would probably be you.

You shook your head, “He’s a man. He’ll just tell me not to worry about it.”

“Not worry about what?”

“Godric’s bloody heart! Sebastian, you scared me!”

“She thinks you’re being bullied.”

Without missing a beat Sebastian just bashfully smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of your head before straddling the bench to sit facing you amidst Imelda’s gagging. “Aw, you’re sweet, pet.”

Imelda watched in horror and disbelief as Sebastian just ignored her and cooed at you, teasingly trying to press kisses at your cheeks while you pushed away his face.

“Are you not even gonna deny that?”

“Should I?” Sebastian continued to stare as you stood up quickly, a flimsy excuse of getting some pastries on the other side of the table while huffing at Sebastian about misbehaving in public and creating misunderstandings. “I quite like it when I’m the only thing in her mind.”

“You’re seriously sick in the head, you know that?” she crosses her arms, studying him as his eyes stayed stuck while you got roped into a conversation with other students you were too polite to end quickly.

Sebastian just grinned, popping a grape into his mouth. “Of course, I know that.”

Suddenly, his gaze shifted to the side, spotting a sixth-year slyly stealing glances and eavesdropping on their conversation. He slammed his hands on the table, startling them. “Can I help you?”

“N-No – I’m sorry, Sebastian!”

Imelda shook her head, as the nosy students dispersed, prematurely ending their dinners. “Bullied, my arse.”

“Oh, if we have drills this weekend I won’t go, we’re going on a date.”

“I know that, Sallow.”

“Cheers, Reyes,” Sebastian tapped his fingers on the table twice and winked at his captain goodbye. Imelda watched as her prized beater decided he was done sharing you for the night. In a speed befitting a Seeker, he walked in your direction to grab you and your plate full of sweets towards the exit as you haphazardly screamed a goodbye to the witch.

Imelda stares at her cup before sighing, “Merlin, help her.”

Last night was the first time you had a dream about him.

Not a nightmare of losing him or a terrible recollection of the crimes you have buried together in the past – but a dream. A sweet, fuzzy dream that had you staring at your ceiling in a confusing blend of horror and butterflies as fuzzy memories of the touch of his lips on yours burned your cheeks.

You slap a pillow over your face.

“No, no, no.”

It would have been easier if it had been a nightmare. With one letter you and Sebastian would already be cocooned up the Room of Requirement and you would find sleep again under his careful watch.

But who do you call for this? When the one person you tell everything to is the one who can’t know.

This can’t be happening. You can’t do this to him.

You’ve been faintly aware of an attraction budding inside of you for your dear friend but you thought it was normal. Who wouldn’t be attracted to Sebastian?

He was tall, tanned, broad, and had that irresistible, mischievous grin that spells trouble—but somehow, it works. Because handsome features aside, he was protective, thoughtful, and was someone you could talk to for the rest of your days and never get bored with.

He’s your best friend.

And …

And you dreamt of kissing him.

You scream into your pillow.

Along with the life-shattering realization in the dark of the night is another horrible one in the morning: you’re probably not the only one who dreamt of kissing him.

You stare in horror at the small crowd of giggling girls that trailed after him, roping him into a conversation even when he politely excused himself once he saw you.

When has this happened?

The year you met, the two of you had been bombarded with problems bigger than each other that silly things like romance and crushes and jealousy were shoved and locked to the back of your minds. The year after that was spent recovering -- you had basically spent all of your days huddled together in whatever corner you both could find, too on guard to even think of socializing properly with other students.

Now, as you stand next to him, on the way to your next class, you finally see what you had been so obtusely blind to.

In a moment of grim clarity, you twigged that your good friend, one you had barely accepted as the boy that holds your adoration, was a handsome, talented gentleman in the race to become the most successful wizard to graduate in your year.

Of course, he would be bloody popular.

“Hey.”

You were so used to being at the center of all his attention (as depressing the context was) that you didn’t even comprehend otherwise – missed the flutter of their lashes, their shy giggles as he passed, or the coquettish whispers that followed him wherever he goes despite his aloof demeanor.

A couple of 5th-year Ravenclaws greet Sebastian sweetly as you pass by. You flinch at the tilt in their voice.

“Are you alright?” Sebastian notices the grimace in your face as you turn a corner, hands quickly soothing the back of your spine.

Well, you definitely see it now.

“I think I’m going to be sick.”

Avoiding him was definitely the wrong move – heedless, moronic, selfish –

But in your panic, it was the only move you had.

So, yes, it is horrendously short-term and stupid and back floating in the middle of the Black Lake in the morning of your weekend even more so.

Still, you and Sebastian had agreed months before the start of the term to pick mostly the same subjects as your last year, an idea that is now gloriously clashing with your ‘avoiding-him’ plans. Hence, you had no choice but to find solace in the big lake, submerging your ears under the water to tune out the noise of the rest of the world as you tried to think out of this predicament you have checkmated yourself in.

You are a brilliant student, a great strategist, and a powerful witch; you should be able to fix this.

He is suspicious, you know him well enough to know he’s slowly catching on to the fact that you would rather fight a graphorn wandless than be anywhere near him. He won’t be able to let it go. He’ll dig his claws in your brain and rip the reasons out of your mouth himself – which is something he definitely can’t find out.

You … like Sebastian – might even love him.

It’s the first time you admitted it to yourself, dunking yourself in the frigid waters to scream underwater (scaring the poor squid) before floating on your back again when you’ve sufficiently calmed down. You must positively look like an idiot but you have bigger fishes to fry than looking sane.

“I love Sebastian,” you whispered, trying and failing to get used to the idea, even if it was just on your tongue.

Should you tell him? That would be … difficult.

Everything is too delicate.

Your friendship was barely dangling on a thread a few months ago. If it wasn’t for your insistence to spend your summer together mending whatever was left of him and your bond outside the horrors in Feldcroft and in the small estate Professor Fig had left for you, you might’ve lost him altogether.

He tries hard to move on from it, to atone quietly, become a better man but you know he’s still struggling. On the worst nights you’ll find him staring at the empty walls of the Undercroft curled in on himself until you unwrap him out of his worst nightmares and into your arms.

Your feelings seemed infinitesimal compared to the demons he is fighting inside his head.

Does he even feel the same? Would he?

If you tell him, would you just become another one of his problems?

You slapped a hand on the water, trying to find the best outlet to let out your frustrations so you could piece together some form of answer or plan, cursing when a drop of water conveniently landed on your eye.

Realistically, he has his pick of the litter right now. Pretty girls tripping over themselves to be noticed by him. Beautiful, untraumatized, clean slates who would definitely be a sweeter companion than you.

The thought of seeing him with another makes your hands tremble – a strange combination of unjust anger, boiling jealousy, and a hint of heavy sadness flowing in your veins.

It feels strange to have your roles flipped. When you had arrived you were the new kid, a limelight at your every move and it was Sebastian who was always chasing after you, beating anyone else to hog your attention. As sick as it is to admit, you preferred it that way.

Being the jealous one wasn’t the kind of tune you were used to dancing in.

If you weren’t so caught up with saving the world maybe you would’ve been able to chain him to you.

Maybe it is too late now.

It feels unfair to add your confusion and emotions as yet another burden for Sebastian, who already carries so much. He’s happy now, finally finding some peace and stability. You refuse to be the one to break it all down.

You won't be another sin he'll have to take responsibility for, another person he stands to lose.

It's fine. This is fine.

“Accio.”

Your view went from the blue sky to a haze as you got rudely plucked out of the water and back into shore, face-to-face with the boy who had haunted your every waking (and sleeping) moment.

If you hadn’t been so dizzied you would’ve been offended.

“S-Sebastian?”

He does not look pleased. Fuck, fuck, fu –

“How many times must I tell you I don’t like chasing you around.” He quips but quickly removes his robes to wrap them around you. It was only when your feet were back on the ground did you realize all the eyes on you and the scene he had created.

Sebastian glared at the group of boys gawking and they scattered like ants. What a tyrannical senior he had turned out to be. You can’t believe you were worried about him getting harassed a few weeks ago. “We’re going back to the dorm to get you changed.”

Wait – what – “’s going on?”

One second you were having a heartbreaking crisis in the lake and in a blink, you were in his arms getting dragged barefooted back up the stairs.

He suddenly stopped waking, your face smashing into his back. You took quick steps backward when he gave you the most offended look on his face.

“I’m sorry,” Oh no, you’ve messed up somehow. “Did you have somewhere more important to be than on one of my games?”

Ohhhh shit.

“N-No! I – I didn’t forget I swear it just … slipped my mind for a moment –”

And you didn’t! You even prepared your ensemble for today last night; it was hanging on your closet before you left your room. However, as you focused on not being seen by Sebastian the day had escaped you.

Your excuses seemed to just infuriate him even further because he just firmly grabbed your hand again and tugged you into the nearest floo. When you have teleported to the familiar walls of your Common Room you stopped on your tracks at the risk of lighting his fuse.

“I’m sorry. I promise I didn’t forget. I have my outfit ready in my –”

He stared, looking over your (no doubt) pitiful dripping form before sighing, pulling you so he could wrap an arm around your shoulders. “Let’s go to my room. We need to talk.”

It shouldn’t make you feel like a sulking child, but the way you are trailing from beside him with your head down had you fitting just the part. However, two firm squeezes on your shoulders were Sebastian’s silent way of telling you he wasn’t bringing you to his abode for a fight.

With his door closed and a quick silencing charm (when has he gotten so good at Charms) he was quick to pull out a spare skirt from the bottom of his bunk, unhooking one of his jerseys before handing it to you.

“Is this my skirt?”

A less secure boy would’ve been flustered but he just shrugged, you hate how his confidence just made him more attractive. “You left it when we were studying late here and you borrowed one of my sleeping shorts. Figured I’d just keep it here in case of emergencies.”

Even his reasoning was perfectly endearing and thoughtful. Clearing your throat, you gave him a grateful smile before going behind the dressing screen.

It was a few minutes of reprieve before he started his interrogation.

“Care to explain why I’ve barely seen you today?”

“Oh, I was just bu –”

“Or this entire week at all?”

You silently winced, seriously considering just apparating from behind the flimsy wood separating you. Though you had a feeling he'd just hunt you down again and that would just be awkward.

Because as much as he claims to hate chasing you, he does a perfectly good job at it.

Peeking from behind the wooden cover you flinched when he was already staring.

With a quiet sigh, he unwrapped his scarf from his own neck and threw it on his bed, his hands enclosed around each other as he leaned on his legs.

“I’m all ears, darling.” His frustration was evident, yet he was clearly extending his patience for you—a surprise, given his reputation for having a short fuse.

You finish zipping up your clothes, steeling yourself from behind the wooden screen before finally gathering all the courage you could muster and finally going out of your hiding spot and meeting his eye.

It was silent for a couple of long seconds before he decides to cut the tension by reaching out a reassuring hand which you quickly and gratefully accepted, letting yourself be dragged in between his legs as he stares up at you.

“Did I do something?”

“No!” You quickly reach a hand to his messy, brown, locks to placate him. A small smile gracing your face when he nodded quietly, earnest eyes hanging on to your every word. “It’s just …”

You squeaked when the door suddenly opened.

“Sebastian, Imelda said to get on the fie –”

“Out!”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know your girlfriend – the captain said – I’ll let her know! I’m sorry!”

The door slammed with an echo, and Sebastian slumped into your stomach, hands loosely on the back of your knees. Despite the relief at being cut off, you can’t help but share his frustration. However, it didn't escape your notice his failure to correct what you believe is a common assumption among his teammates.

“We should go before it’s Imelda who bursts in next time. I think she won’t be as kind to your door.”

He sighs, nods, and stands up. However, instead of guiding you back to the floo he pulled you closer into him until you had to stand on the tip of your toes. His hooded eyes run through every inch of your face as he cradles it firmly, his work-worn thumb caressing your cheek gently while his other hand pulls you until you have to rely on his solid body for balance.

“Don’t think we’re finished talking about this,” he warns, his grip on your cheeks going tighter for a split second as the intensity of his gaze sharpens and he returns to the sweet, charming boy that stole your heart.

This is exactly what you had feared. Secrets weren’t a concept familiar to the two of you. Now that he had sniffed it out, it is only a matter of time before he gets to the bottom of it.

He gives you a mischievous smile at the unmistakable horror and guilt on your face, then leans in to press a kiss to your hairline. "Stop trying to run away from me while I'm still being nice."

"This is you being nice?" you tease but he only chuckles. "Maybe I should be running faster."

"You can play chase all you want, pet. But your chances of getting away from me are --" He mouths 'zero'.

"Oh? Zero?"

"To none."

The two of you laugh, and all at once, the small argument, the days spent avoiding him, and the guilt you feel about your emotions are lifted from your chest as you reach a bittersweet conclusion.

This was for the best.

This is how it's supposed to be. You shouldn't ask for more, not right now.

As long as he can keep laughing like a boy his age should after being forced to grow up so fast, and you remain each other's safe haven you can always retreat to, and he continues to look at you just ... like ... that ...

And you see it. Clear as day, you almost want to laugh at how silly and blind you had been.

In fast progression, you run through your memories, and it feels like falling through the ice-cold waters of the lake surrounding Hogwarts, like the path to Hogsmeade after an autumn rain -- clear and refreshing.

He hooks a strand of hair behind your ear and you realize that he knows you've finally figured it out.

"Is that a promise?" you ask.

It should be terrifying, it should terrify you – what you realize is his need for control of everything regarding you, his barely hidden obsession you had missed all this time, his unwavering dedication that only now did you see the depth of.

Instead, you beam, heart fluttering and meeting his commitment with a kiss pressed on his thumb.

You’re in love with Sebastian Sallow.

And for the first time since the two of you met, you finally see it – Sebastian Sallow might also be a bit in love with you.

"I promise."

“I know it’s been a while since I’ve been here but has the house gotten bigger?”

Sebastian stops his search on one of the chests in the storage to look back on his friend by the door. He looks up at the ceiling as if just noticing himself. “Oh, yeah, I did work on it over the past summers.”

Ominis frowned, raising his wand in different directions to get a clearer visualization of the new space, “I thought you spent the summer at her place?”

“I spent the first month finishing everything then flew back to hers for the rest. I’ve been working on it since the end of 5th year so there wasn’t much left to be done. It's honestly a good way to practice Charms.”

The Gaunt scion could barely believe the nonchalance in his statement, “And you added a second floor to your house because …?”

“Aha!”

In Sebastian’s hand was a fancy, brown velvet box, the emblem of the nearly fallen Sallow line embossed on the lid. With a quick peek, he confirmed that his mother’s ring was still safely tucked inside.

“Merlin, Sebastian.”

Ominis could almost hear his grin as he patted the dust off his pants before walking back to his frozen friend. “Are you planning to wed her by the time we graduate? Have you even courted her yet?!”

Sebastian just shrugged, looking around the house, a sense of pride filling his chest when he saw how perfect everything had been. Every nook and cranny made with only the thought of you in mind. Even the reading room you had mentioned in passing was thoughtfully plopped close to the backyard where he had hoped to improve your Herbology skills in the future when he manages to drag you into it.

“We don’t have to be married if she doesn’t want to be but we’re definitely getting engaged, I’m not risking it.”

“And you’re sure she’ll say yes?”

Sebastian scoffs and Ominis unfortunately quietly agrees at the stupidity of his question.

Ominis should be scandalized. The quiet, conservative part of him wants to scream about the impropriety of it all. However, with how headstrong you are and how stubborn Sebastian is he knew it would be a waste of his breath to scream about decorum and the formality of proper courting.

“Does she know about your grand plans yet?”

Sebastian slipped the box into the pocket on the inside of his coat. “My darling’s a skittish one but she’s getting there,” he smirks, the memory of the look of dawning on your face in his dorm room making his chest flutter in excitement. “If I make any moves now, I fear she’ll fly away.”

“Well, if a man told me he’s been obsessed with me from the moment we met to the point of building an entire house for a hypothetical future he has built for us without any of my say I’d be bolting for the hills too.”

Sebastian pushed the other boy enough to make him stumble.

“You wouldn’t understand, Omi,” he grins, smug. “We’re kindred spirits,” he releases the word like it had always been written – a fate he, for the first time in his stubborn life, was willingly letting himself get swayed into. “It was always going to end this way.”

Ominis couldn’t help but agree, both because of his confidence for his dear friend and a healthy part of it is of the potential horror he fears Sebastian would unleash on any other man that might risk taking you away from him.

He'd fancy not hiding another murder from the Ministry.

“For all our sake, I hope so too.”

“Sebastian?”

“Yes, pet?”

Sebastian casually flicks into the next page of the book carefully placed on your lap as you sit comfortably astride him. The wrinkle in between his brows a manifestation of his frustration with the Advanced Potions he was studying.

You could feel the stares and hear the whispers. Two of the younger Headboys tried to pretend not to see you improperly sitting in his lap while a group of girls gave you sharp glares as they passed by. You burrow yourself deeper into his lap, not forgetting to stare back with a sweet smile.

“Do you think we should start dating?”

Sebastian freezes, the speed at which his iris moved from the ink on the pages to your eyes was almost too comical but you held back your laugh, not giving him any space to misunderstand your words.

He does nothing but stare for the next 5 seconds before nodding, pushing a hand to rummage in his pocket before placing and opening a pretty brown box with a simple but beautifully carved ring inside it.

“Since we're already graduating, girlfriend seems a bit juvenile,” he clears his throat casually but a shake in his voice betrays his nerves. “Isn't it?”

You forced yourself to close your mouth as you stared at what undoubtedly is the Sallow’s family ring. It was only when he had plucked out the precious jewelry and gently slipped it into your finger that you finally managed to break yourself out of your stupor.

You sniff, now finally looking back at him, “You and your brilliant ideas, Sallow.”

[toxicanonymity]

Some Landlord ! Billy smut would be Perfect, if you have time. Thanks Tox 🥺

murderbait

BILLY LOOMIS x f!READER | 2k words | The Leak WARNINGS: 18+ AU where Billy lives and is acquitted of the murders. He's now your sleazy landlord. Gratuitous slutty descriptions. masturbation in public, detailed PIV fantasy, degradation, praise, banter and bickering, light enemies to lovers dynamic, manhandling, dom Billy vibes, sexual tension, pet names, "protective" Billy. NOTES: Sure, nonnie. I offer this sleaze with love. 🖤🖤

In the middle of the night, you wake up sweaty despite being completely naked and using no covers. Without putting on any clothes, you walk to your kitchen to get a cold cup of water, only to see a stack of filled ice trays next to the sink because you forgot to put them in the freezer. Ugh.

You get a glass of water and stand in front of the fridge with the door open. The air conditioner in your window feels weaker every day. It’s so stuffy in your trailer, you wonder if you’d be better off with the window open. Still naked, you go to the kitchen window and slide it open. No matter how hard you push upward, it won’t click and stay. 

“Piece of shit,” you mutter. But the fresh air does feel good. 

Standing in the window with your arms raised, tits blazing, skin glistening…. something moves in the corner of your eye. There’s a fake security camera mounted on the shed you’re looking at. At least you always assumed it was fake, since the owners are such deadbeats. You give it the middle finger just in case, then use a pitcher to hold the window up. 

You go back to bed for a while longer, then get up and rifle through your unfolded laundry, looking for a swimsuit. You find a bikini that appears to have shrunk, but it has adjustable strings so you put it on anyway. Next door, there’s an extended stay hotel that has a pool. It has a cracked and faded slide, no longer in use, and half the rungs are dangling from the pool ladders. It won’t be the first time you’ve snuck in there. No one seems to care, and no one’s going to be out at this hour anyway. 

The pool water is normally warm by sunset, but in the middle of the night, it’s cooled off enough. A weakly-inflated flamingo pool float sits atop the water, and a couple of pool noodles hug the wall. Half the pool lights are working. There’s no way this would pass an inspection, but sometimes it feels like barely anyone outside the area knows it exists.

You sit on the side of the pool, and as you lower yourself into the water, you look down to see your hard nipples barely contained by the shrunken, unlined triangle top, with some areola showing on one breast. The sight of your own slutty fit turns you on, and you don’t fix it. 

Kicking your legs out in front of you, you imagine Billy joining you. Billy and his dirty wifebeaters and trucker hats and jeans that fit too well. Billy and his slutty fucking selfies that you can’t stop looking at every night. Billy, and that look in his eyes like he could eat you up, if only he were hungry. 

He’d be hungry right now, you bet. You turn to your side and use both feet to grab a pool noodle, letting yourself off the wall as you mount it. Straddling the  pool noodle, you turn toward the wall and rest your forearms on the side and squeeze your thighs together. 

Closing your eyes and resting your head, you fantasize about him. He’s a low-life and a sleaze, and god he makes it hot. The way he moves, it shouldn’t be hot at all, but you’ve been watching him closer ever since he sent those selfies, and when scratches his lower belly, lifting up his tank top, exposing his happy trail, at this point it drives you fucking crazy. Like that’s where you need your forehead. You tilt your hips for more pressure from the foam between your legs. 

There’s not a single thing about him that says he’s a better guy than you thought, but maybe he is. Or more likely, you don’t care. Or, perhaps most likely, you kinda like him bad. 

He’s not the kind of man you’d want in your life, but in your bed? 

It’s so easy to picture his silhouette at the foot of your bed, scratching himself, then lewdly grabbing the massive bulge in his jeans. 

Your hips begin to move on their own, seeking friction with the foam noodle. 

You can see him kneeling onto your mattress, prowling toward you, arms flexing, chains hanging down from his neck, dangling in the air–god if you could feel those hit your skin. You can feel him grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head with one hand, while he unbuttons his jeans with the other. 

You reach down and slide the pool noodle against your front, grinding your hips. 

He’d probably lean in real close, say something cocky like, “you ready for this?”  Ugh, his voice. With his dick in his hand. “Think ya can take it?”  Yes, yes, please. He drops his thick meat heavily against your mound. Yes, please. God, please, you’d be squirming under him, wrists pinned by his hand, lifting your hips desperately.  “Sure ya can handle this big cock?”

Fuck. It’s so clear, you can practically smell him. Your whole cunt throbs and you’re gushing in your bikini bottoms. “Mm,” you quietly hum as you get closer. 

He’d shove himself into you, you’d arch your back and moan. He’d chuckle darkly, then his free hand would come to your jaw, dwarfing your face as he uses just two fingers and a thumb to squeeze your mouth open. The smell of cigarettes intensifies as his face hovers over yours, then he spits in your mouth. And he stays there, bottomed out, and you’ve never felt so full but you need the friction, you need him to move so bad, you need him to fuck you, you beg him to fuck you, really fuck you. “Yeah? Need me to fuck you?” God, yes. 

“Mm,” your face screws up. You're so wet, and your clit twitches as you rub the front of your swimsuit with the foam cylinder you're straddling.

You can practically hear him say, “Poor baby.” He’s got half a smile, amused and in control. “Yeah I'll give it to ya,” he begins to slowly retreat, pauses with his cock half-withdrawn and lowers his pitch. “Who’s your daddy?”

The tension snaps and your lips part as you see stars. 

Squeezing your thighs tight around the pool noodle, you ride it out, cumming to the thought of his girth stretching you with his gold chains dangling over you, hips beginning to move, jeans sitting loosely around his hips. 

You weren’t planning on doing that, but, there you are, coming down off that high in the motel pool, in your shrunken bikini, skin buzzing, so tired and peaceful you could fall asleep. 

And then metal scrapes against concrete, stirring you from your blissed out state. 

A shadow moves.

His deep voice at a low volume, with that edge of condescension: "All done?”

Your stomach drops. You almost don’t want to look up, but you do. It’s his silhouette, manspreading in a worn-out chair, with a cigarette in one hand and a beer in the other. The shadow of his stupid trucker hat hides his face. You let go of the pool noodle and try to subtly push it away, obviously too late. Frozen, heart racing, you’re standing with your chest above water. 

“What are you doing here?” you demand. 

“Don’t worry, I’m on my way out.” He stands up and stretches, revealing his happy trail. He twists in another stretch and god, his silhouette - his jeans bulging, clearly aroused. “An' so are you, c’mon.” 

“I’m still cooling off,” you protest. 

“I’ll bet.”  He drops his cigarette into his can of beer and carries it with him as he approaches the pool with his face still in the shadow of his hat. Light reflects off his gold chains. 

You make a fake effort to adjust your top and can’t take your eyes off his jeans. He adjusts himself and stands there giving you a moment. 

Then he loses patience and says, “Alright, sugartits. Let’s go.” 

He squats down and grabs you by the arm. 

“Hey,” you protest as he starts to manhandle you toward the shallow stairs. “Alright, alright. Damn”

When you’re out of the pool, he looks you up and down. You feel like covering yourself up, but you defiantly stand with your hands on your hips. 

“Tryin’ to turn tricks out here?” He slowly steps toward you and his eyes are glued to your chest. “Good place to do it….prolly make a few hooker friends too.” 

“How many of’em have you fucked?” you retort. 

He ignores the question and reaches for your chest. 

Without blocking his hand, you look down and part of your nipple is showing again. He “fixes” your suit, tugging it over and thumbing your nipple while he’s at it. It covers your areola but leaves underboob. 

“There ya go.” 

He puts a toothpick in his mouth and motions for you to lead the way. 

As you exit the pool area dripping wet, you mention, “If you’re gonna spy on me, you could bring me a towel next time.” 

“Yeah, okay,” He mumbles with the toothpick at the corner of his mouth. “Just lookin’ out for ya’s all.” 

“I don’t remember asking you to.”

He pulls the tab off his beer can and it replaces the cigarette that had been between his fingers. He throws the can into a bush.

As you reach the trailer park property line, he throws his toothpick into the shrubs and lowers his voice. “Listen sugar, there’s some shady fuckin’ characters over there.” 

You scoff. “Apparently so.” you shoot him a look and can’t help but check him out while you’re at it. A harsh floodlight highlights the freckles on his big, tan shoulders. 

He keeps on, “You tryin’ to get stabbed?” 

“What?”

“Dumb as hell, sneakin’ over there, middle’a the night.” 

Somehow, this makes you feel stupid. Like if he’s calling someone dumb... Damn. 

You walk the rest of the way to your trailer in silence with him following slightly behind you. 

“Lemme guess, ya left it unlocked, too,” he mutters, then opens your door himself. “Fuckin’ murderbait over here,” he grumbles.

He stands with his back to the open door and waits, making your body brush his as you walk in. 

Full body goosebumps. 

He stands there looking at you, and you eye his pants. Slowly, he steps into your personal space, and you back up almost to the nearest wall, but not against it. There, you stop. Letting him close. With his hand on the wall, he effectively traps you, blocking you from going any further into your trailer.

The smell of Newports fills your nostrils. He wets his lips and looks from your eyes to your chest, then  your mouth. 

He brings his nose to your neck and barely grazes you as he takes a long sniff. His nose brushes your cheek, and his lips follow. Just above a whisper, he warns, “Don’t do it again.” 

When you don’t answer, he pulls back and his hand comes to your neck. He’s gentle, not applying any pressure, but the presence of his large, strong hand is enough to feel like a threat. One that makes you more turned on than scared. “Got it?” he asks, looking at your mouth. Can’t be sure if he’s talking about going over there alone or leaving your trailer unlocked, and it doesn’t really matter. His eyes are wild, and it’s like he’s inspecting you, marveling at your face. 

You whisper, “Yes sir,” and await his next move. 

He takes his hand from your neck and cups your cheek to whisper, “Good girl.” 

You could actually melt.

He gives your chest another look and drops his hand, incidentally brushing his wrist against your breast before he pulls up his jeans. He bites the aluminum tab and turns to leave without another word. As he walks away, your eyes are drawn to a glock sticking out of the back of his pants. 

He looks back at you and winks before shutting the door behind himself.  

-----

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Thank you for reading! I appreciate your interest and engagement with him so much.

Please take care of yourselves ♥️

[casinocarpediem]

▪︎■☆ Новое Mолоко 🐮🥛 ☆■▪︎

(Translation: New Milk)

☆ 🔞!!NOT SAFE FOR WORK!!🔞

☆ male! subtop! Francis Mosses / male! dombottom! Reader

☆ overstimulation if ya squint a lil, milking, breeding, dumbification, passing out, belly bulge (If your not into this, look away!! 👻👻)

☆ implied Russian speaking Francis (translated from google translate and research for needed accuracy, however, any form of critique or correction definetely is allowed!)

☆ short (I think???)

☆ author has played Not My Neighbor

°○☆nsfw under the cut☆○°

You and Francis had a thing. And, fuck, for a minimum wage worker who barely gets any kind of rest at all, he's fucking good at what he does. He's a big fan of milking. Not his job, no, he could rant about how shitty it can be despite not wanting to get a new one (A/N: so real) but he's a fan of milking. Just the other kind of milking.

The first tim you two had sex, he was pretty sheepish about it, yeah. He didn't know if you prefered topping or bottoming so he settled for a handjob. You did the same as well. Until you both got used to each other and realized that he was pretty flexible. He'd do whatever you'd want to do, whatever you had in store, as long as if it wasn't too much for either of you. He loves fucking but he surely isn't a sex devient. Somewhere in the middle. Pliant to whatever you to had planned. But recently, he may or may not have discovered a new kink. Somethig that made his legs flex and his stamina increase and the gooey, warm, and fuzzy gears in his head grind back to life to keep on going. The last time you two had sex, there was now no condom, and he was pounding you into the bed that you swore Isaack would definetely send a formally written complain, persuasive enough for the both of you to not have such intense, hot, steamy sex for the next few months, (He's a reporter after all, have to respect the man informing the people, and he definetely has a way with words).

Humming, groaning, a little against your neck. You swore it was like a kitten, as if he was purring in a way. You pulled his hair as per usual and with a louder grunt his dark brown eyes roll up just a slight and flutter, closing shut as he fills you to the brim with his warm baby batter. Shaking, sweating, and biting his lip when he just keeps on cumming until theres nothing more to give. Or is there?

What he didn't expect, was when you suddenly whispered in the midst of him balls deep inside you,

"Thats it... good boy, you fuckin slut... Cum in me, keep milkin' yourself f'me"

Ah shit, he swore something inside of him just snapped loose. With the way he shivered violently, and as your hand loosened on his sweaty brown hair he moves again. Oh how odd, after a few rounds, the last one being penetration, he's always so tired, opting to give you a handjob or finger you if you didnt get a taste of your climax but shit. If this wasn't hot then what was?!

When you had basically degraded him to milk his balls dry you didn't mean literally, but fuck. This was so appealing, that your little milk boy had his quirks.

You look down at yourself seeing the bulge appearing on your abdoment everytime he thrusts in and god does it make you feel dizzy. Your hard dick, leaking as well just begging to cum while Francis gasps and shudders a little more, oh he looks so dumb. Trying to do as he's told. To keep milking himself. Milking himself for you. Just for motherfucking you. It keeps fuzzy sparks inside of his brain that has him smiling and drooling against your chest.

"Awe, what an adorable little cow you are... Milking your-...yourself for me... Giving me every ounce of that sweet sweet milk of yours, hmm? You wanna give me your milk Francis? You wanna fucking cum in me again?"

He feels so lightheaded that he smiles dumbly at the idea and nods as if his head is too heavy, full of warm cream. Muttering several words in russian mixed in with english as he nods slowly, trembling as his cock, still hard and moving perfectly against every spot inside of you.

"Please please please К-Куколка please... fuck fuckk- let me cum... inside... inside... cum inside please please milk me- oh... П-Пожалуйста... З-...Золотце... Пожалуйста..."

The pathetic, brown haired man sobs. Pawing at your sides like an injured little puppy. Begging so prettily, who could deny those eyes of his? all teary and tired. Small blobs of salty water dripping down his eyebags which were now disappearing, thanks to yourself for keeping his sleep schedule normal again after years of nap malnutrition.

After a few more moments of Francis groaning so softly against your ear, you feel yourself about to cum too, and when you order it directly, he really does come undone. Panting like a dog in heat while nails dig against his back skin. All the while he buries himself deep inside of you once again and fills you up with a second load of his fluids that it's practically drooling out of your hole. You hiss as well, shutting your eyes with a shudder as your dick spurts out a thick white rope of cum, coating Francis' stomach and your chest. Fuck.

Francis pants, collapsing on you. You gently push him to the side and just watch him catch his breath. Eyes closed, skin warm and sweaty while he's still inside you. All soft. But its not uncomfortable. At least now, you definetely know how you can abuse this new found information with your lovely boyfriend.

[sonotpattismith]

gee willikers, batman!

pairing: boxer!choso x nurse!reader word count: 11k content: fluff, always a lil angsty w/ me, commitment issues, mentions of toxic relationship dynamics, for my girlies w/ a fearful-avoidant attachment style, big brother choso, mentions of abuse and domestic violence, smut, 18+ a/n: not sure if I like how this turned out but alas we shall persevere :')

You desperately needed to develop a better taste in men. Or a therapist. Whichever came to you faster would be best. 

In reality, it should have been a sign early on into your career when you were so drawn toward the Emergency Department specifically that perhaps you had a certain… affinity for the more chaotic things in life. It was evident in your job, and it was evident in your disaster ex-boyfriend who you’d just broken up with a mere week shy of your one year anniversary. 

He, like the many other men you’ve let waltz into your life, might as well have had ‘RED FLAG’ tattooed across his forehead, but it seemed you were never satisfied unless you were on the brink of a complete crash out— at least that was how you’d always felt until now. Maybe you were getting too old for it, all the bad boy types who had you clinging onto your phone in a furious rage most nights arguing over god knows what. It was never simple, but you seemed to enjoy the thrill of the ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ types of attitudes. 

Again, at least until your latest wannabe edge lord candidate had had you so fed up with his overbearing possessiveness that you were sure your nervous system was completely fried. It wasn’t until that last fight though, that ended with your phone screen shattered after he’d tossed it across the room in a child-like tantrum that was just so like him— the one after which you found yourself having to practice the very same fucking grounding techniques you’d show your patients when experiencing panic attacks prior to procedures— you thought perhaps it was time for a change. 

Which was precisely why you couldn’t for the life of you understand why your coworker insisted on taking you here of all places. Ierie had been working with you for a few years now, so she had already heard about every argument, block, and makeup between you and that disaster of an ex-boyfriend of yours. Though she tried (not very hard but tried nonetheless) to conceal her unbridled excitement when you told you that you had ended things, she was practically bursting at the seams. 

After the poorly concealed praise to a higher being she performed following the news, she did still want to be there for you. That was why she insisted on hanging out tonight so you wouldn’t have to be alone on what was supposed to be your one year anniversary. The catch was though, she seemed to have forgotten that she had already promised one of her long time friends from highschool that she’d be at his fight that same night. 

Which led you to the very predicament you were in now, damn near overstimulated by the hollering and sweaty bodies pushing against you in the overcrowded, modestly sized arena that looked like it hadn’t been maintenanced in at least ten years. Ierie’s cold hand was dragging you by the wrist to assure you didn’t get swallowed up by the crowd, claiming that her friend had already reserved two spots toward the front. 

“I know I came here to support him, but I don’t think Suguru is winning this thing.” She shouted over the crowd once you two found your spots, watching as a burly man stalked around the area taking bets for the fight. 

“Geez, some friend you are.” You snorted with an amused shake of your head. “Does he suck or something?”

Truthfully, you knew nothing about boxing. It was never really your thing, even though you seemed to have quite a few mutual friends involved in the local boxing scene. You weren’t sure of the big names that everyone threw around, who was good and who was mediocre. Despite the fact that you’d much rather be rotting in bed, wallowing in your own self-pity right about now, you figured you should at least try to enjoy yourself and understand what you were watching. 

“No, it’s not that.” She shook her head, her neck craning up to watch as the boxers began making their way out. “The guy he’s going up against is like a fucking machine. He never loses— at least I’ve never seen it.”

“Crazy strong?” You assumed, watching as the man you recognized as her friend hopped into the ring, his long hair pulled back into a neat bun out of his face. Shoko hummed unconvincingly. 

“Nah, I heard he’s got a kid or something. So, I think he’s just crazy determined is all.” 

You hummed, suddenly intrigued to see someone going against Geto— who was already scarily large in your book— with nothing but pure motivation to provide under his belt. As they announced his name— Choso— and he ducked into the ring across from his opponent, you realized that he definitely had more on his side than Shoko let on. 

“Holy shit.” You muttered under your breath, lips parting as you watched him shed his jacket. He looked fairly young for a father, but the dark circles under his eyes surely fit the bill. Maybe you shouldn’t have been so shocked given his line of work, but the man was built like a tank, insanely broad shoulders to carry around those down right dangerous biceps of his.

“Eh? Didn’t I say this would take your mind off of what’s his face?” Your friend grinned knowingly with a teasing nudge of her elbow. She jutted her chin toward the ring. “Think his kid needs a step-mom?”

“Ierie,” You flushed with a breathless laugh. Suguru and Choso met in the middle of the ring, touching their gloved fists together as they awaited the match to begin. “Did you not hear me when I said I need a little bit of peace in my life for once?”

She didn’t respond to your rhetorical question though, because the opening bell was ringing and the boxers began dancing around the ring faster than you could process, administering and dodging blows so fluidly it almost looked choreographed. You noticed how Choso protected his face the majority of the match, ducking and dodging far more than actually swinging. When he did swing though, he swung hard. You wondered with your limited knowledge of the sport if his strategy was just tiring his opponent out. 

A few minutes in, you found yourself flinching back with each punch that was thrown his way, but Geto rarely landed one on his opponent. 

“I knew you’d go gaga for this!” Shoko shouted with a delighted laugh. “You love the dangerous ones!” 

“Shut up!” You grumbled back at her, chewing at the side of your thumb anxiously as the two grew closer to the side of the ring you and Shoko were stationed at. 

Of course, they likely knew what they were doing, but you couldn’t help but think of worst case scenario where these two two-hundred plus pound fighters toppled over the ring and onto your unsuspecting and unprepared body. You abruptly stood from your seat as Geto was cornered against the ring, his back facing you just a mere couple feet away. 

From up close as Choso was landing calculated blows on his trapped opponent, you were able to see that subtle pout in his lips that contrasted against the big and scary vibe every other part of him emanated. The mark across his nose scrunched up in sheer focus, stray bangs from his haphazard bun falling across his forehead. 

It only took a second, your abrupt movement shifting in his peripheral. His dark eyes drifted up just over Geto’s shoulder and met yours. The gloved fists that had been raised and shielding his face for nearly the entire match slowly faltered, drifting down in hopes of getting a better look at your wide eyed expression. 

Those glossy eyes were locked on him, and perhaps he was too awestruck to note that— yeah, everyone was looking at him right now— because it truly did feel as though you were the only one in the room for even just a moment. The whiplash hit him straight in the ribs harder than any opponent could land, knocking the air from his lungs as he watched your face morph in horror. It was just milliseconds following the abrupt change that Geto’s glove was hitting him smack-dab in the center of his face. 

You yelled out in surprise as Choso was instantly knocked back, falling onto the unforgiving ground below him while the arena erupted in hollers, because shit, everyone had bet on him. Even Suguru looked taken aback by how quickly his opponent dropped, because he’d fought with him before and definitely knew that he usually kept his stance stiff enough so that blows like that didn’t take him down so easily— and they certainly never kept him down.

The referee had knelt down beside him to count him down, but you were more concerned by the way blood had begun to trickle out of his nose and even the corner of his mouth. His eyes were barely open, squinting blearily at the blinding lights above him. 

“He’s gonna aspirate if they don’t move him off his back.” You shouted desperately at Shoko, clutching anxiously onto her elbow. 

“They have to count him down— rules are rules.” She stated absentmindedly, getting on her tiptoes to get a better look. “You’re off the clock.”

Ten seconds. He could get through it, you tried to convince yourself as you bounced on your heels. Time was moving too slow though, and you watched in dread as his chest heaved with a cough, the blood that had gathered in his mouth sputtering up to paint his chin and cheeks. 

“They’re gonna kill him.” Your frantic declaration had barely processed in your friend's mind before you were hopping through the ropes and hoisting yourself into the ring. She was yelling out to you, and one of the boxer’s cornermen shot forward to stop you, but you had already slid onto your knees beside the referee, who was also trying to push you back. “He’s choking on his blood!” 

They paused at your sudden, furied response, too startled to do anything as you grabbed his shoulder and mustered all your strength to roll him onto his side. Finally on his side, you reached over to pull the guard from his mouth. At once, Choso began sputtering up and coughing, coating the floor with the blood that he had been drowning in.

As he continued clearing his airway, your fingers carefully dug into the back of his head, threading through his hair to check for blood. With the sudden movements, he was slowly beginning to come to, though all he could hear through the ringing in his ears was the muffled uproar from the crowd. Blinking back his delirium, he lazily shifted onto his back once again, eyes drifting back shut.

“No, no, no— sit up for me.” Your voice instructed him through the haze of his attempted slumber. 

Even Geto had shed his gloves and was kneeling down to help you get him upright. 

“I didn’t even hit him that hard.” He explained in bafflement, the most subtle layer of guilt twinging his tone. “It’s like he completely ragdolled for a second.”

It took all the energy Choso had remaining to blink up at you. The sight of you— the same girl who had thrown him out of his zone for likely the first time ever in his career— his consciousness seemed to come flooding back to him. Sitting up quickly with your’s and Geto’s urging hands under his back, he looked around frantically in an attempt to grasp what had happened. 

“Do you feel nauseous?” You asked him as he watched your lips form in a frenzy around the words. 

Blood was beginning to pour from his quickly bruising nose into his lips, and the thus far useless cornermen bounded over with a small towel. Bunching it up, you carefully placed it onto his nose before tilting his head forward to allow it to flow out. 

“I-I don’t—” Choso was stammering, as was so very common for him, but never in the ring, and he was coming to the mortifying revelation that the insanely gorgeous girl just watched him get the lights knocked out of him with a single blow. 

Your brows furrowed as you tried to make sense of his words. You moved the towel aside to hear him better. 

“I don’t usually, uh—” He gulped, face flushing embarrassingly dark for someone who was on the brink of a possible concussion. You tilted your head at him. “Y’know, lose that easy— hah.” 

His attempted nonchalant laughter sounded more like a nervous sigh, but his slurred explanation had an amused smile curling through the concerned pout of your lips. He found himself smiling along with you, blood coating his teeth. 

“So I’ve heard, hot-shot.” You quipped with a shake of your head, pressing the towel back into his nose just as the medic finally hopped into the ring. Your eyes remained on his dopey expression as you tilted your head to the side to address them in a hushed tone. “Check him for a concussion, he’s looking crazy.”

Choso did not, in fact, have a concussion. At least that’s what the medic deduced in the back after having assessed him. Given that there, for some god forsaken reason, only seemed to be one medic present, you aided in transporting him to the back where you stuck around for support. Shoko was rolling her eyes in exasperation, mumbling something incoherent about your never taking a day off. She was however thoroughly entertained by the notion that the Choso Kamo got knocked onto his ass for the first time solely because he got a glimpse of you. Despite the evidence that was pointing there, you vehemently continued to disagree with her on what caused his little hiccup in the ring. 

The medic was packing his things up as you were not-so-subtly re-checking his pupil reactions, because you seriously were questioning the credentials of the supposed medical professional that was about to let the man aspirate right in the ring. Choso didn’t question your insistence on double-checking, his wide, chocolate eyes following your pen light obediently— any excuse to be at the center of your attention for a little longer, right?

“So you’re, um—” His gaze fluttered as you clicked the light off before switching it to your other hand and turning it back on. “You’re a doctor?” 

You smiled fondly and shook your head. 

“An ER nurse— my friend over there’s a doctor though.” You explained, nodding your head back to where Shoko was speaking to Geto. She shouted something about being off the clock before continuing her conversation. 

Choso hummed, blinking away the spots in his eyes left behind by the light. Upon closer inspection, you noted that the mark running jaggedly across his nose and cheeks was a scar, and not an oddly placed tattoo as you had assumed when first seeing it. If he noticed you staring, he made no indication of it— not with the puppy-dog like gaze he still had on you, a small smile on his blood-stained lips. 

His attention was pulled away from you as a ping rang from his dufflebag. Tearing his eyes from yours, he quickly fumbled through his clothes before procuring his cellphone. In a last-ditch effort to make it seem like you weren’t just staring at the man, you busied yourself with cleaning up the blood-soaked towels and tissues that had begun surrounding him. 

“Is everything okay?” Choso had barely glanced at the screen before quickly taking the call. “He’s still not asleep?”

You watched his brows furrow from your peripheral, and you desperately tried to mind your own business. In the louder corners of your mind though, Shoko’s words rang in your mind about his having a child. Despite only having spoken a few words to him, you just couldn’t see how this young, gentle-giant of a man was a father. 

“Yeah,” His voice had become lighter suddenly, an amused smile painting his face so affectionately it damn near gave you baby fever. “Tell him I’m fine— I should be home in a little bit.”

You quickly averted your sidelong glance once he hung up the phone, moving to wash your blood stained hands in the dingy sink that sat in the corner. From the mirror, you could see him digging through his bag to grab a shirt. 

“Sorry— my babysitter called.” He explained as he tugged a baggy, graphic tee over his head. As if it took him a moment to realize how that sounded, his frantic face was quickly popping out the neck of the shirt to clarify. “I take care of my little brother, I mean. I’m not um— y’know, his… dad.”

With a soft hum of acknowledgement, you could have cursed yourself for the subtle excitement brewing in your stomach at the fact that this man was likely single—  and he wanted you to know it, too. Reaching down to grab your bag from the bench, you slung it over your shoulder.  Jumping into action, Choso was quickly picking up his own bag to walk beside you. 

“Big brother’s a boxer, huh? He must think you’re a god.” 

“Oh, he doesn’t know, actually.” He corrected with a subtle flush, his hand fiddling with the strap of his bag. Noting the way your brows rose in surprise, he offered a meek smile. “I just don’t want him getting caught up in all this.”

“And how does he suppose you get all those bruises then?” You teased, but you were quickly putting two and two together that keeping his job a secret from his little brother was likely the reason for his oddly calculated boxing approach. He never seemed to make risky moves, always preferring to protect himself above all else and only striking when he was sure to land it. 

Suddenly, a bashful expression overtook his face, his hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck sheepishly as his eyes darted away from you. It was undeniably endearing to see such a tall and muscular man so easily flustered, especially considering how solemnly terrifying he appeared in the ring. 

“Well, he…” He scratched at his head before huffing out a chuckle. “He kind of thinks I’m Batman.”

A choked laugh attempted to hide itself within your throat, but it, of course, failed miserably. Choso turned away from you in hopes that you wouldn’t see the maroon color that painted his neck and cheeks. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh. That’s just really cute.” You explained through uncontrolled giggles, not missing the way Shoko rose a knowing brow at you as the two of you drew closer. “Well, uh… good luck with that bruise then, Batman.”

“Y-You should let me grab you dinner— y’know to… thank you for not letting me choke.” You turned as Choso chuckled nervously, the hand you had placed on your friend’s arm to head out with her falling. 

 Your gaze fluttered as you looked back at his hopeful expression, but all you could think about was the fact that you’d just broken up with your boyfriend just a week prior because he was no good for you. Staring back at the crusted blood at the corner of his mouth, along with the way his nose was blossoming with a vibrant black and blue hue, you shook your head with an apologetic smile. 

“I’ve got a shift in the morning.” You explained, having to turn away lest your heart break at the way his face seemed to fall ever-so-slightly. “But I hope you feel better!”

As you and Shoko left, she was whisper-shouting over her shoulder an apology to him about your only liking assholes with a feigned subtlety. It was the subdued goodnight that he still called out to you even in the midst of his rejection that had you staring up at your ceiling that night wondering if you’d always be hard-wired to make things difficult for yourself. 

You wished you had had the opportunity to forget about the interaction altogether the following morning at the start of your shift. Typically, working in the ER meant fast-paced, constantly needing to be on edge, and certainly not having the time to think about anything else other than what might be walking through those doors at any moment. As fate would have it though, today was one of the rare instances that your shift was absolutely dragging. 

It was already nearly a quarter of the way into your shift, and all you had triaged so far was an elderly woman with a mild cough, a kid trying to get out of his school’s testing day with a feigned stomach ache, and a hungover college student in desperate need of IV fluids. Needless to say, you were beginning to grow restless. 

You were a mere ten minutes away from throwing in the towel and taking your lunch break early, a luxury you were almost never privileged to, when your pager pinged alerting a new patient. Sitting up with a start, you quickly clicked at your computer to wake it up and check the chart. 

Possible head injury; rule out TBI

Maybe if you hadn’t been so eager to just get up and do something, you would have read into their chart more. For now though, you were avidly collecting your things to check in the first patient you’ve had in the last two hours. Lugging the vitals machine behind you, you offered a soft knock on the wall as you glanced over the chart one more time and slid the curtain open. Your mouth popped open as your eyes finally landed on the name. 

“Choso?” You muttered under your breath, brows furrowing as you looked up from the chart to see the very man you suspected perched upon the sterile bed. 

He almost looked surprised to see you at first, those dewey eyes of his widening ever-so-slightly at the sight of you before a smile spread across his lips. Upon first glance, he looked to be the picture of health (save for the now diabolical bruise spread across the center of his face), smiling and bright eyed with no visible reason for why he’d be complaining of a head injury. As if noting the way your eyes began to narrow doubtfully at him, he quickly attempted to wipe the smile from his face. 

“Um— I was… I was starting to feel symptoms of a concussion.” The burly man stammered out as though rehearsed. 

Barely able to bite back your own amused grin, you tucked the chart under your arm before leaning against the wall expectantly. You made a go on motion with a wave of your hand, but Choso hadn’t expected to be so distracted by the sight of you in your scrubs. Rolling his bottom lip between his thumb and pointer finger, he gulped nervously. 

“Y’know, like a… headache a-and uh…” An anxious smile graced his face as you raised a skeptical brow at him. He couldn’t help it though— not with the way your jogger-style scrub bottoms hugged at your curves so tantalizingly, and you looked so cute with your stethoscope hanging around your neck, the one that would surely catch the way his traitorous heart was racing against his rib cage. 

“How did you know which hospital I worked at, Choso?” You finally interrogated once he’d been stammering a little too long to come up with other relevant symptoms. 

He cast his eyes to the side as you moved to pull the sleeve of his t-shirt up to wrap the blood pressure cuff around his bulging bicep. Though you had already deduced that he was likely fine, he had still been registered as a patient, and now you needed to go through the typical procedures. You wondered if he was even aware of how attractive he was, because the way he remained oblivious to the manner in which you ran a hand unnecessarily down his arm on your way to the pump told you that he had no clue.

“Lucky guess.” He tried to come off as cool, hoping you wouldn’t see through the fact that this was the third emergency room he’d been to today. It wouldn’t let him rest though— the memory of you hovering above him as he came to, the thought that you had jumped into a boxing ring for a stranger and essentially saved his life. “You didn’t let me thank you yesterday. You saved my life.”

“Don’t you have a kid to be taking care of?” You quipped teasingly, a bit flustered at his gratitude as you undid the cuff from his arm. This time around, he did notice the way you rubbed soothingly at the mark left behind by the cuff, and whether conscious or not, he found himself flexing his arm ever-so-slightly just for you.

“Yuji? He’s at school.” Choso explained dismissively before quickly veering back on topic. “I wanted to make sure you were coming to the rematch, but I didn’t have your number.”

He opened his mouth obediently as you nudged the thermometer against his lips, lifting his tongue for you to rest it underneath. The way his pretty, pink lips wrapped around the thermometer made your breath hitch, and you forced yourself to tear your eyes from his as they bore intently into you. You hummed once it beeped, shedding the sterile cover into the bin by the bed. 

“Rematch, huh?” He nodded, fervent eyes following each of your movements as you turned to confirm his vitals into the machine before turning back to face him once again. “I hate to disappoint, but I’m not actually into boxing.”

“You were front row at the match last night.” He rationalized, and his shoulders were slowly falling in disappointment. After a moment, he shook his head before continuing his pursuit. “Then let me take you to dinner at least.”

“Listen, I’m just not really—”

Your excuse was cut off when, after barely a moment of contemplation, Choso grabbed the chart from your hand and tossed it to the floor. A few owlish blinks were sent his way.   

“Your friend said you like assholes.” The man explained simply, but it was clearly eating him alive, evident in the way his determined eyes darted between you and the clipboard that had just got done clattering on the floor. A couple, painfully silent seconds passed before he kissed his teeth quietly, sliding off the bed to pick it back up for you anyway.

Fortunately for him, and unfortunately for your sanity, that little failed stunt worked on you, and Choso bounded out of the ER that afternoon with your contact in his phone. Still, you made it clear to him that you’d reach out to him when you were ready. He nodded along intently as you explained that you had only just gotten out of a relationship, and you didn’t exactly feel that you trusted your ability to pick a man right now. 

It didn’t matter to him though, because you had saved his number under Batman on your phone, and he had never been so proud of the silly persona his baby brother had assigned to him. So, he assured you not to worry, that there was no rush, and that he owed you a dinner whenever it was that you felt like having him.  Sure, the next few days may have been spent glued to his phone in hopes that you’d get over your idiot of an ex-boyfriend sooner rather than later, but he could be patient, right?

It wasn’t until nearly a month later that he began to worry that perhaps you had only taken his number with the hopes that he’d leave you alone. Perhaps you were just letting him down easy. After all, he had shown up to your job after already having gotten a no from you. Choso had never been great with women​​— he’d never had the opportunity to, what with his taking over care for Yuji so early on into what were supposed to be his prime bachelor days. 

Up until now though, it didn’t matter that he hadn’t had the chance to grow out of his awkward, teenage boy cadence, he’d never thought much of it. Sure, he was a man, and he had needs too, but there were always more important things to worry about— like putting food on the table and keeping a roof over the head of his baby brother. His job certainly didn’t require him to be a smooth talker, or a talker at all for that matter. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t read the body language or social cues that women threw at him— not until it was you that he couldn’t get a read on. 

What he didn’t know was that you had spent the month waging war on yourself. The battle consisted of the you that wanted to remain in the familiar arms of men who your commitment fearing heart was sure to see no future with and the you that wondered if taking the hot, kind-eyed boxer’s offer of taking you to dinner and treating you like an adult human being was such a bad thing. 

The decision was proving to be more difficult than you could have ever anticipated, because it was as if your man-child of an ex-boyfriend could smell that you were contemplating doing better for yourself once, and he had been texting you for weeks now. There were apologies, paragraphs sent about how your constant arguments only meant that you two were passionate about one another— ones that had you rolling your eyes while simultaneously thinking that this was the safe option. 

You had come to a fork in the road though, as you stared down at his text asking if you’d meet him at the place you two met— some dingy arcade where you always had to hold your breath in because it seemed none of the men in attendance knew what soap or deodorant were. It was the same place where you remember finding it charming how heated he’d get over losing a game— it was quirky and hot and you couldn’t possibly see how that short-temper might pose a challenge to your relationship. 

Chewing on your bottom lip, your thumbs hovered over the cracked screen that had lain witness to just how un-charming that temper could get. Glancing up at your carefully placed makeup in the mirror, you realized that you had missed getting all done up— missed going out instead of sulking in your apartment and contemplating where your abysmal attachment style could have possibly manifested from. With a shake of your head, you decided that you had put far too much effort into yourself to end up in that cesspool of a joint by the end of the night. 

The cool wind nipped at your cheeks as you tried to borrow yourself deeper into the collar of your coat. You thought that perhaps you should have just waited in the car, but, then again, you weren’t exactly familiar with the protocol for proper dates. The dim lighting offered by the awning outside of the quietly buzzing restaurant cast a soft glow onto the wooden bench you were sitting on as you anxiously peered at the parking lot. 

Just as you were on the brink of losing a toe to hyperthermia, an older looking, black cat peeled into the parking lot, barely coming to a stop before the driver’s door was swinging open. Choso’s frantic gaze caught yours almost instantly, and he almost appeared relieved that you hadn’t left.

“I’m so sorry, I know I’m late.” He babbled, shutting his door firmly before glancing into the back of his car. “Look, I um… I understand if you’re not cool with this, but my babysitter canceled on me last minute.”

In the midst of his hesitant explanation, he was tugging the backseat open, offering you one last apprehensive glance before ducking his head in. When he emerged once again, it was with a pink-haired, bright-eyed toddler in his arms. You stood up as Choso walked your way, whispering something that, by the look of the softly stern expression on his face, looked to be a warning to behave to his little brother before setting him down.

“I’m really sorry about this. If you want to go I—”

“Aren’t you gonna introduce me to my date, Choso?” Your mockingly stern tone halted his mortified rambling. 

The boy, barely reaching his brother’s mid-thigh, was looking up at you with that fiercely curious expression that only a toddler assessing your danger level could pull off. His small, gloved hand was clutching onto Choso’s pointer and middle finger as the fake fur on his tiger beanie swayed with the gust of wind that whipped his way. 

It certainly wasn’t how you had expected to spend your night off, but something about that exasperated guilt in Choso’s tone made your heart clench. All these years you had spent worrying about which douchebag you’d be picking yourself back up over, and this man, who couldn’t have been much older than you at all, had never had that stupid privilege. Such a miniscule act as not raising a fuss over his bringing his baby brother to dinner with him had him staring at you as though you’d hung the stars in the sky, and you suddenly decided that you had made the right decision that night. 

A small, delighted smile tugged at his lips, and he quickly looked down to nudge the boy forward.

“This is Yuji, and he promised he was going to be on his best behavior for our friend tonight, right?” Choso urged with a subtle desperation hidden in his eyes. Your heart nearly melted as he nodded ardently with a soft sneeze.

“Niichan never has girl friends—” 

“Okay, Yuji! Why don’t you show her how you open the door like a gentleman?” He eagerly cut off his brother’s innocent confession with a rapidly flushing face, scooping him up so that he could reach the handle. You offered a knowing, sidelong glance at the flustered man, unable to bite back your tickled smile as you nodded to Yuji in thanks as he held the door open for you with a prideful beam.

Choso had just about jumped out of his skin when your name randomly popped onto his phone. He must have re-read your text twenty times to assure he was understanding correctly, because the girl who had been radio silent for nearly a month was asking if tonight was a good night for her to cash in on the dinner he owed her. 

Truthfully, it wasn’t a good night. He had been expecting to stay home with Yuji tonight given he didn’t have a match, and his brother didn’t have school the next morning. Because of that, he really didn’t have anyone lined up to babysit tonight. He frantically called his usual babysitter, practically begging her to come on such short notice, and he nearly did a backflip when she agreed. 

Yuji was following him around the house with that lighthearted laugh, the kind that made Choso think that maybe he wasn’t doing such a bad job at taking care of him after all, asking him why he was practically bouncing around the house as he rushed to shower and dug recklessly through his closet for something decent to wear. 

It had all come crashing down on him just ten minutes before he was supposed to leave, already having explained to his little brother that his babysitter would be coming tonight, when the woman in question called to let him know that her shift at her full-time job had gone over schedule. He sat hunched over his phone on the couch for what seemed like eternity as he contemplated what to do.

It had taken you an entire month to finally agree to a date with him. Would you change your mind if he canceled on you with such short notice? Chewing on the inside of his cheek, he noted that he was already going to be late, and the thought of leaving you waiting for him at the restaurant had him making the executive decision to bundle his little brother up in his winter clothes and pack him in the car with him. 

Halfway to the restaurant was when it hit him that perhaps this wasn’t the best idea, but it was too late now. He wasn’t sure anything could have prepared him for how quickly you’d let it slide off your shoulders, and certainly not for how easily you’d work Yuji into what was meant to be a date with just you two. 

Here he was though, lips parted stupidly as he watched you allow the boy to steal bites off of your plate (despite how many times he’d already swatted his hand away in mortification) and follow along with all the longwinded stories that toddlers were so good at telling with no real conclusion in sight. It seemed impossible for him to have found you anymore beautiful than he already did, but you were proving him wrong with every affectionate smile sent his way each time Yuji would innocently reveal another humiliating detail about his older brother to you.

“If I had known he was going to woo you so hard I would have left him in the car.” Choso joked with a timid smile, already having had his fill of embarrassment for one night following Yuji’s announcement that he cried everytime he watched Brother Bear with him.

You thought having the five-year-old around helped lessen what typically would have been a painfully awkward first date. Additionally, the seemingly tight-knit relationship they had made you wonder how Choso had found himself with such a responsibility so young in the first place. Of course, with Yuji around, it was hard to veer onto the topic. 

“And how else would I have found out so much about the big, bad Choso Kamo?” You teased as Yuji busied himself with a coloring page the waitress had brought over (much to his brother’s relief). “Brother Bear, huh? Can’t blame you, that one used to get me too.”

“I don’t cry everytime.” 

“Mhmm,” With an unconvinced hum, you peered up at him through the rim of your cup as you took a sip. “So, what turned you into a bear then, hm?”

The fond smile on his face slowly dissipated, leading you to believe that what you thought was a harmlessly joking question held more depth than you gave it credit for. Soon, your smile was quickly falling too as you sat up a little straighter.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay.” He reassured, attempting to bring that same lighthearted nature back around, but his eyes were heavier as he regarded you kindly. “I just… had to be.”

It was the only explanation he offered you, and somehow it was enough for you to understand the gravity of whatever their situation must have been— at least for now.

“So,” Your gaze fluttered about his chiseled face as you tried to rectify the now solemn energy at the table. Glancing toward Yuji, you noted that he was still concentrated on his coloring, a crayon clutched in one hand and a fry in the other. Still, you lowered your voice a bit as you leaned in closer to Choso. “How did your rematch go?”

“Thought you said you weren’t into it.” 

“Didn’t say I wasn’t into you.”

This caught him off guard, whatever fleeting confidence he had to banter back and forth with you flying out the window just as your own words processed back to you. For a fleeting moment, you almost allowed yourself to be embarrassed by your own forwardness. Something about how easily he could be rendered speechless made it worth it though. After a moment, his lips twitched up nervously as he tried to reign in control of the conversation once again. 

“Thought you liked assholes.” Choso whispered, praying his little brother wasn’t going to absorb that word into his subconscious to spring on him later. 

Pursing your lips, you looked down at the cracked phone screen that had pulled you out of your stupor just hours prior. The man followed your eyes, taking note of the way you ran your finger absentmindedly down the shattered glass. You didn’t say anything, but he seemed to have heard it all, his face falling in quiet recognition. He had seen it before— that look of silent defeat in your eyes fighting against a cycle all too familiar to him.

“The rematch was good.” He offered with a soft, knowing smile, hoping to pull you from wherever your thoughts had wandered to. You peered back up at him. “Kicked his ass. I can be an asshole too— just… not to you, yeah?”

Choso couldn’t have known how deep his words burrowed themselves into your mind, replaying on repeat that entire drive home as your heart pounded against your chest. He had walked you to your car after dinner, Yuji clinging onto his back as he drifted off into what looked to be a nasty food coma. The look on his face said that he wasn’t sure what to do next, but you could certainly guess what was on his mind. 

So, you were grateful when his little brother stirred away and tugged at his hair, pouting about it being too cold and wanting to go home. The man’s shoulder’s deflated ever-so-slightly, and he offered an apologetic smile and a promise that he’d text you.

You weren’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed. 

Choso Kamo scared you unlike any other raging hot-head had ever managed to in the past. At least with your past… distasteful selections, you could predict their moves, you knew it would only go so far. With him though, you could feel yourself wanting more, because he was sweet and genuine, and he was the type of guy that would make a nest in your heart so as not to disturb your peace rather than shatter it with an attempt to mold it to accommodate the jagged edges he refused to file down.

Without the expected downfalls of the disasters you set yourself up for, how could you prepare yourself if he disappointed you in a way you hadn’t already premeditated? Other men filtered in and out of your life, never leaving an impact heavier than a break of routine in their wake— but Choso? If you allowed him to stay, you knew it would ache in ways you’d never known if Choso left. 

Despite your fear of falling, you couldn’t bring yourself to ignore him when he texted you later that night asking if you'd made it home, or even the next morning when he wished you a good shift. With each affectionate-smiled reply, you could feel your stomach twisting in fear as you hoped you’d snap out of this haze before the shoe dropped. 

It was the very reason that you hesitated when your phone rang just two days later, his name lighting up your phone at an hour far too late at night to be considered friendly. Blinking back the tired haze in your eyes from staring at your television for too long, you felt that familiar anxiety swimming in your throat. Your thumb trembled nervously as it hovered over the button to accept the call. Shaking off your nerves, you swiped to answer the call. 

“Hey, Cho—”

“Hello?” His voice was panicked on the other line, making you sit up from where you had been vegetating on your couch. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know it’s late— I need your help.”

Muffled in the background, you could hear the distinct wailing of a child you assumed to be his little brother. The sound made you kick the blanket off your lap, already breaking out into a nervous cold-sweat. 

“What’s going on?”

“It’s Yuji— he’s sick, and his fever won’t go down, and he’s not keeping down any of his medicine, and—”

“Okay, calm down.” You cut off his nervous rambling as you shoved your boots on under your fleece pajama pants. “How high is his fever? You should take him to urgent care.”

“I’m trying, h-he has a thing with hospitals.” The man sounded as though he was on the brink of tears, panting subtly in a manner that had you wondering how long he had been wrestling with the boy in order to get him to an urgent care before he gave up and called you. “Please, I don’t know what to do.”

Choso could barely hear your knocking over his brother’s incessant crying, and had he been more alert of his surroundings he would have wondered how in the hell his neighbors hadn’t sent in a noise complaint yet. After nearly a minute with no response, you knocked again, more forcefully this time. 

When he finally opened the door, you would have assumed that he was the one battling a flu— what with his flushed face, disheveled locks, and red waterline. Having to endure his brother’s suffering alone was killing him, and he’d never felt more useless than he did tonight. 

“Choso…” You sighed regretfully, nearly reaching up to pull him into a hug, but he was quickly latching onto your wrist to pull you into the living room where Yuji was bundled up on the couch, his little face flaming with a mix of the exertion from his pained wails and the fever that was still ravaging his system. 

Kneeling down beside the couch, you touched your hand against his forehead. Even with the frigidness that still nipped at your hands from the chill outside, it was clear that he was practically scorching.

“He’s burning up, Choso.” You muttered frantically, making quick work to pull the countless blankets off of him. He was kicking out in protest with each layer you removed, and his brother was quickly moving to push his legs down lest you get kicked in the face. “You need to cool him down.”

“He— he kept shivering…” The man was gulping down tears of frustration, because all he was trying to do was to get him to stop crying. It was breaking his heart with each octave he reached, and he was sure that he’d find a way to make the sun rise early if it meant he could have stopped whatever it was that was making Yuji so uncomfortable. 

“It’s okay,” You reassured, taking note of the fragile emotional state this situation had put him in. It was becoming clearer by the minute that Choso was new to doing this on his own. “We need to put him in a cold bath.”

The man nodded in a haze, reaching down to scoop the flailing boy into his arms as he cried out in protest. You followed closely behind him as he made his way to the bathroom and flipped the light on. 

“I’m cold!” Yuji choked out, only making his brother feel that much more guilty as he pried his clothes off of him. You stepped around him to fill the tub with cool water. 

“I know, I know, I’m sorry.” Choso mumbled despondently, dodging each of his kicks with stunning precision. “We’re trying to help you, buddy, okay?”

“What have you given him?” You questioned, finally shedding your puffer jacket you began to sweat with the frantic movements. 

“Nothing, he’s spitting everything out.” Choso’s voice raised in exasperation, though you knew better than to think it was directed at you. 

You paced out the restroom as he lowered Yuji into the frigid water, and you thought surely his throat would start to bleed soon from the way his screams were scratching it raw. It didn’t take long for you to find the medicine cabinet after rummaging through the kitchen, and you made quick work to toss a fever reducer into a plastic bag to begin crushing it. Peeking your head into the refrigerator, you grabbed the carton of apple juice that was sitting on the shelf. Once your child-proof cocktail was thoroughly mixed, you made your way back down the hall.

“Please, Yuji, just sit still.” You heard Choso pleading desperately, followed by the frantic splashes of the attempted escapee. 

“Let me go!”

“It’ll make you feel better—”

“I want Mom!” 

You paused in the doorway at Yuji’s sobbed request, unsure whether or not to intrude. Clutching the cup to your constricting chest, you leaned against the wall just beside the bathroom door as you heard Choso sigh despairingly.

“Mom’s not here, Yuji. We’ve talked about this, please. Don’t do this to me.” His tone wavered notably, and it was clear that the dam holding up the strongest parts of him was weakening by the second, but his younger brother only repeated his request. 

“Yuji,” You called out, finally stepping in to kneel beside Choso. He quickly cast his gaze down, but not before you caught the tears slipping down his face. Brushing back the pink hair that clung to the boy’s forehead as he panted up at you through choked cries, you showed him the cup. “Look, if you drink all your juice then we’ll get your bed nice and ready for you, okay?” 

He sniffled messily as his blubbering slowed, eyeing you skeptically. 

“It’s apple juice, see?” You tilted the cup closer toward him so he could see the familiar yellow color. Noting his apprehension, you leaned in closer to whisper to him in feigned secrecy. “Niichan can’t protect the city if you don’t get better.”

Through dewy hiccups, he slowly released the grip his little hands had on Choso’s wrists to take the cup from you. Beside you, his brother heaved out a sigh of relief watching as he quickly downed the cup, eager to get into his bed and under the covers as promised. The both of you held your breaths until the last drop was sucked up. 

After running a few more handfuls of cold water over his head for good measure, you nodded at Choso to take him out once his skin was finally a bit cooler to the touch. As he dried and dressed his brother back up to prepare him for bed, you busied yourself with cleaning up the puddles of water Yuji’s thrashing had created on the floor of the bathroom. A good couple of minutes had passed before apprehensive footsteps finally made their way back to the bathroom where you remained kneeled on the floor. 

“I’m sorry.” Choso whispered, slowly lowering himself down beside you. 

You peered over at him as he buried his head into his hands. The t-shirt he wore was clinging to his chest as it still dripped with leftover bath water along with the ends of his loose, tousled hair. His shoulders shook every so often with the sniffles he was trying so desperately to conceal, but it had all been too much for him. 

“I know the last thing you wanted to be doing on your day off was working.” He continued as he finally looked up at you, tears of frustration swimming in his dark, tired eyes. “I just— I didn’t know—”

“Choso?” You whispered, resting a careful hand on his raised knee. He blinked at you in question, swiping furiously at the tear that raced down his flushed cheek at the motion. “How… how did you end up with Yuji?”

His eyes quickly fell, observing the way his knuckles whitened as he clenched and unclenched his hands pensively. 

“He’s my half-brother.” He began quietly. A bitter smile tugged at his lips as he looked back up at you. “Wanna talk assholes? My step-dad— Yuji’s dad— was just…”

You gulped, watching the way his jaw seemed to clench unconsciously at the memory of him. A gradual sense of dread twisted in your stomach as you began to guess where his story would go. 

“We fought all the time. Our mom hated it, but I couldn’t stand the way he treated her, and it—” Taking a deep breath, he looked up at the ceiling to calm the way his tears seemed to continue to betray him. “It killed me that she let him.”

Your gaze fluttered with their own misty haze as his words sunk in, an unnecessary guilt clawing at your chest. Shuddering away the tremble in his tone, he finally looked back down at you. Swiping at his nose with a quick sniffle, he continued. 

“We got into a huge fight a while after I finished school. He was mad about— god, I can’t even remember what had him so heated, but h-he threw a bottle at our mom.”

“Choso…” You sighed shakily, shifting forward to grasp at his hand. Though he made no attempt to halt his story, he accepted your hand, fiddling with your fingers absentmindedly as another tear raced down his face. 

“I told him that if he wanted to throw shit to throw it at me.” With red-splotched eyes, he offered a humorless laugh and gestured toward the jagged scar that ran across his face. It was now you who was failing to hold back stinging tears. “I thought after— I don’t know, twenty stitches that she’d leave, but she didn’t. So, I did.”

His head dropped down toward his chest, shaking side to side regretfully. 

“I left. I wasn’t there for her when she died— I wasn’t there for Yuji.” You quickly climbed over to wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling his face into your chest as you allowed yourself to cry silently along with him. “I left him. He was only three. I left him, I—”

“You came back for him, Choso.” You quickly interjected. 

“I should’ve never left in the first place.” His fingers drifted up to dig into your back as you settled onto his lap. “I thought if I learned how to fight— y’know, got bigger and stronger that he couldn’t hurt me anymore, he couldn’t hurt my mom anymore cause I would finally be able to do something about it, but I was just scared. I was scared, and I left.”

“You were just a kid.” You clarified, sliding your hands down to grip his face and force him to look at you. “And you’re here now.”

The grip you had on his cheeks forced his lips into a smushed pout, his wet lashes emphasizing the dark circles that surrounded his irises. Your thumb grazed gently over the scar on his face, and it broke your heart even more as you pictured it on a smaller, more defenseless version of him. You could see that Choso still ever-present in the fear that lingered in his eyes, in the doubt that clung to his frown that told him that nothing he could do for Yuji would ever be enough. 

“And I’d like to see someone try to lay a finger on Yuji now.” You encouraged with a soft laugh. The tiniest of smiles cracked through his solemn gaze, but he was still searching your eyes with an intensity that nearly knocked you on your ass. 

“Why do you do it?” He questioned, his voice barely above a whisper. You tilted your head at him curiously. “I mean, you have a good job, you’re smart, and pretty, and you’re kind— why give it to people who don’t deserve you?”

His hands dug firmly into your waist as you attempted to lean away from his raw stare. You felt naked— humiliatingly exposed as though you had just been the one to air your dirty laundry out. The hands on your sides drew you in closer and closer with each pathetic open and close of your stammering lips.

“I think I came to terms a long time ago with the fact that I’d never get to understand why my mom stayed. I had to be okay with it.” Choso’s brows were furrowing as his gaze drifted down your face before meeting yours once again. “Then I met you, and… I feel that same frustration I felt when I was a teenager.” 

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” The scarred bridge of his nose grazed against yours as the two of you drew closer. With a strained gulp, you shook your head. “Do you—” He paused as his face flushed, but he fought to push past his timid nature. “Do you want someone to be mean to you? Is that what it is?”

“Choso—”

“Because if that’s the case then let it be me, okay?” His plea had you biting back a wanton whine, because his lips were brushing against yours with all the anticipation of a building promise. Your fingers tangled into the drying hair on his nape. “I’ll be rough with you, and I’ll make you want to cry.”

Leaning forward, he slotted his mouth around your pouted bottom lip, pressing you closer against him as you two pulled at one another despairingly. 

“I’ll be an asshole, but I’ll never hurt you— it’ll always be for you. Is that what you want?”

You could only nod hazily, too lost in the desperation in his tone and the craving he’d instilled in you for the lips you’d only come to know just minutes prior. Without so much as a grunt of effort, he was lifting himself off the ground with you in tow, stumbling toward the hallway in a craven pursuit of his bedroom. The hand holding you up against him squeezed vigorously at your ass, pinching at it until you yelped out into his lips.

“Shh, Yuji’s sleeping.” He still had the nerve to chastise you lowly, using your back to press the door shut. 

With you squeezed between him and the door behind you, he allowed his hand to dance up and grip your jaw, hooking his thumb into the corner of it as his forefinger dug into your bottom lip and pried your mouth ajar. You panted against him, eyes half-lidded as you awaited his next move with baited breath, but as he’d promised, it felt as though he wanted you to cry for him, his lips exploring your neck and jaw at an agonizing pace.

“Choso—” Your plea was cut short by your gasp as he sunk his teeth into your shoulder that had been left exposed in the flimsy tank you had been wearing to bed prior to his call. He moaned against your skin, digging his canines ever-so-slightly deeper into the flesh to feel the way you jolted at the sting. “Ah— ahh!”

The man only hummed contentedly, arm hooking under your thighs once again to pry you from the wall and drop you onto the disheveled covers of his bed and pull the damp shirt from his back. He surveyed the way your eyes ran down his body, your reddened lips parted and your brows drawn softly together, and he deduced that he couldn’t possibly look at you if he was to ravage you like he hated you. 

Dipping down, he flipped you easily onto your stomach, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your pajama pants. Pausing for a moment, he leaned down, and you shuddered at the feeling of his warm chest pressing you against the bed.

“Is this what you wanted?” He whispered into your ear, knowing it would only take a shake of your head for his resolve to crumble. 

Your ribcage expanded and deflated beneath him in tandem with your anticipatory panting, and you could only nod through your flushed face, too embarrassed to confirm your desires aloud, yet your senses too lit ablaze by every inch of muscle you could feel on him to deny yourself the pleasure. There was a longing kiss pressed against your temple— an unspoken promise that he meant it when he said he wouldn’t hurt you— before he slowly pulled away from you to yank your bottoms down. 

Choso bit down on his bottom lip, rough enough to draw blood as he fought to maintain his composure. Running his hands up your thighs until they met the swell of your ass, he raised a knee to rest beside your hip before hiking your ass up. 

“Make me understand it.” He pleaded, a subtle growl laced into his tone as he drew teasingly close to where you were throbbing for him. 

“I don’t know, Choso—” Your voice had raised to an embarrassing pitch as you fisted his sheets between your fingers. They smelled just like him, and it was by no means aiding in your coherent thought process.

“Do you need someone to tell you you’re worth more?” At once, his fingers plunged into your incandescent center, twisting mercilessly as he continued to ration with you. “Because I’ll do it, I’ll remind you every fucking day if I have to.”

But his words were quickly becoming background noise that harmonized sweetly with each of your slack-jawed moans. Reaching back, your fingers barely grazed his wrist in an attempt to gain any semblance of control over his pace, but he quickly collected both your hands in his free one to pin them at the small of your back.

“Is that what you need?” He asked again, and his fingers curled up with a striking precision, drawing a pathetically pitched squeak from the depths of your throat. 

You buried your face into the sheets to conceal the way your eyes began to water at the growing warmth pooling overwhelmingly fast in your stomach. After a moment of your whimpering silence, his fingers abandoned you in favor of a resounding smack against your sensitive core. Your legs seemed to snap shut involuntarily, but it didn’t last long before he pried them open once again. 

“Answer me.” Choso demanded. His tone was barely stern— the fervent desperation to understand more present than anything. He threaded his fingers into your hair to pull your head to the side and reveal your face. “I said is this what you needed?”

“Yes!” You gasped, your hearing feeling as though it had increased tenfold as you listened to his sweatpants rusting while they hit the ground. “Please, please, Choso.” 

Despite his insistence that he’d be rough with you as you so pleased, he couldn’t bring himself to stop the gentle way in which he eased into you, savoring each hitch in your breath. Hooking his arm under your neck, he pulled you up to press flush against his perspiring chest, the slow descent up aiding in burying the last few inches of him into you. 

There was a crack in his resolve, evident in the broken moan that his lips pressed right against your flushed ear. The tears that he had promised you finally slipped down your cheeks. His eyes tracked it with a sharp vigilance, the sight making him pull you in that much closer. With a hand gentler than what he had planned for you, he swiped at the salty stream before allowing his fingers to settle around the column of your throat. 

“Keep crying for me.” 

And he made sure you did, his pace relentless as his sculpted hips slapped against your ass. For each overwhelmed tear of pleasure that escaped you, Choso chased it with a kiss; to your cheek and your jaw, to your helplessly parted lips and temple until there wasn’t an inch of you within his reach that his lips hadn’t become acquainted with. You thought your back would snap in two as you arched against him through your high, yet his furious pace didn’t slow until you slumped back against him, only held up by the hand at your throat and his will. 

The man watched as your head fell back onto his shoulders, eyes half-lidded as they stared at the way his gaze never seemed to falter. Only then did he pause, carefully lowering you to lay on your back against his cool pillows. Crawling over you, it was clear that his intent had shifted with the fulfillment of his goal. 

His hair tickled your cheeks as he leaned down to capture your lips tenderly. Reaching down, he caressed the side of your neck with the same hand he had used to restrain it as he entered you once again, this time with the intent of proving that it didn’t always have to be so merciless. With each purposeful roll of his hips into you he proved that you too were worthy of being handled with all the gentleness he had never been on the receiving end of. 

Choso clung onto you as he finished, and he didn’t leave when you allowed yourself to wrap your arms under his shoulders and press your cheek against his heaving chest. Instead, he pulled the covers up and assured they reached your shoulders that had since broken out into goosebumps— though you weren’t sure you could blame them on the cold. 

He brought your hands up to kiss the parts of your wrists that had been locked in his fierce grip. For the first time in years you weren’t itching to leave before he had the chance to leave you, because all the weight and muscle he’d worked so hard for in order to protect that scared, teenage boy in him were enveloping you with a crushing safety while his faint snores into your ear lulled you to sleep. 

Perhaps Yuji wasn’t so naive in believing his big brother was a superhero.

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[kuroosatoru]

all to myself - mechanic!toji nsfw oneshot

cw: nsfw!!!, size kink, head(giving and receiving), switch!toji, dilftoji, coworker trope ig, unprotected p in v, he cleans you up ;), not proofread;-;

wc: 2k (yeahhhh it gets pretty steamy, buckle up buttercup)

the summer heat was starting to get to you, the ac in the shop had been broken for a while now and it's not like your boss was making a point to get it fixed. you finish putting a new battery in a car as a bead of sweat crept down your face, preemptively turning around as you see toji's reflection in the silver of the hood, "are you sure you've got that? i wouldn't want you to hurt yourself, doll." he asks, poking fun at the fact you were too small to be working on cars in the first place. you laugh dryly, "seems easy enough if you can do it, does it not?" you reply, causing toji to take a step back. "hey my fault being concerned. boss wants ya though." toji says, his tone had shifted, and you couldn't help but worry that you hurt his feelings, "oh, alright. i'll head over there when in a minute." you reply. toji nods, walking away briskly.

toji was a confusing man, flirting with you one day and completely ignoring you the next. it should've turned you away from him, but if anything, it just made you more interested in the older man.

it's only here do you realize just how good the dark haired man looks in his uniform, his grease-stained coveralls tied around his waist, revealing the black tank underneath, which hugged his pecs and exposed his large arms. your mind began to wander, and toji could feel eyes on him, "it's not nice to stare, y/n!" he yells across the garage with a sly smirk. having been called out, you start to blush and turn around, unable to find something to say back to him. usually, the two of you would have kept going, but something had changed. you say your end of service spiel to the customer, lead them back to their vehicle and make your way into the bosses' office.

-

you reach the end of your shift, and now it's just you and toji closing up shop. after mopping the floor and counting the register, it's time for you to get changed out of your coveralls and head home. you open the door and start to get undressed when you hear the door open behind you, "oh! sorry i can wait." you exclaim, aware that toji needs to pick megumi up from daycare. he licks his lips, "nah, it's okay, doll. ladies first." he says, backing out of the room. you turn to lock the door, but you decide to leave it open just a crack, hopeful toji would come back or better yet, take you home with him.

you shimmy out of your uniform, and toji watches from the inviting crack in the door. unable to take his eyes away from your beautifully greasy and sweaty body, the way your panties hugged your hips made his throat dry. his mind wandering and leading him to his thick, long, cock making your stomach puff up. he decided then and there that he wanted, no, needed to be inside of you. you turn around, noticing toji,"fuhisguro! what are you doing?" you exclaim sarcastically, opening the door. "oh you don't know what you do to me, y/n." toji practically whispers, closing and finally locking the door behind him, his cock was already twitching at just the thought of finally having you to himself. despite the two of you being alone, you got excited at the potential of getting caught.

toji towered over you, his eyes now darkened with lust. you reach for his bulge and he lets out a moan so small, you swear you misheard him, "oh i think i do." you say, untying his coveralls. your fingers graze his waistband and he flinches. "is this okay?" you ask, slightly concerned you did something wrong. toji looks down at you, "you never have to ask, doll. 's just been a while." you nod, taking the tip of his member into your mouth, swirling your tongue around as he whimpers.

"fuck, y/n." he mumbles, thrusting his cock deeper into your throat, causing you to grip his muscular thighs for stability as you gag a little bit. you dig your nails in, sending chills down his spine; he grabs your hair with one hand and uses the other to wipe the sweat from his forehead. toji can barely handle it, and he lets out a moan as he finishes in your throat.

"shit, i'm sorry. i didn't mean to." he stutters out as he takes his semi-hard member out of your mouth. you smile and swallow his load, making him blush, "it's okay, toji. but what do you want to do now?" you ask with a slight smile as you stand up.

"well, doll. i gotta pick up the kid, so [...]" he trails off, grabbing a shop rag to wipe himself clean. you both put on your normal clothes and head out to your cars so you can go back to your respective homes.

-

toji could not stop thinking about you whatsoever, and while the blowjob was mind-blowing, he was stuck up on the fact that he never returned the favor. so, after dropping off gumi at his friends house, he decided to go to your place. hoping you decided to stay in for the day. toji arrives and you open the door for him, surprised to see him, "oh? what are you doing here?" you ask playfully. stepping aside to let him in, you finally get the chance to see him the way you've always iamagined.

today toji had on basketball shorts, which didn't leave much left to imagine, not that the burning image of his cock shoved into your mouth wasn't bright as day, but still. you had just gotten out of the shower when he answered, so you had on nothing but a thin robe, causing toji's mouth to water as he imagined the beautiful body underneath. "y/n, i can't stop thinking about that night." he admits to you sheepishly as you lead him to your couch.

"if you sit down, i can do it again," you reply with a smirk, patting the couch next to you. toji shakes his head, "no, doll. i wanted to taste you." he says, now standing in front of you, nudging your legs open with his knee.

"mmm, please?" he urges, taking your hand in his, getting onto his knees. you take a second to think about it, and open your legs to let him in, but not before taking a second to actually look at him. he's rugged. his black hair tousled into a sexily messy pile as his dark eyes looked into yours. you can tell he hasn't shaved in a while, his stubble starting to come back, but you decided that wouldn't be an issue. you needed this.

toji reaches his and towards your now throbbing clit, "oh you're so wet for me, doll," he smirks, finally touching you as you moan in respose. his large digits slide into you as he runs his tongue along your folds, he smiles to himself when he feels you tightening around his fingers. seeing how you moved your hips to have more of him was causing a tent to form in his shorts and he groans against you as he gently takes your clit into his mouth, and you can feel your legs tremble already. you can feel yourself about to finish, and toji can too. your wanton moans filled the room as he kept eating you out.

and then he stops, taking his fingers out of you and putting them into his mouth to suck them clean. "tojiiii," you whine in response, "i wasn't done yet." he smirks at you, any part of his personailty now taken over by lust. he leans forward to kiss you, "im sorry, but i need to be inside of you, doll." he says. as he takes his shorts off to reveal his member, you see the precum leaking from the tip.

he places his fingers on your lips, "open up, pretty girl, i want you to tatse youself too." he commands, and as you suck on his digits, he lets out a loud moan, "mmm, that's a good girl."

toji takes his fingers out of your mouth and uses your spit to lubricate himself, the tip of his dick now positioned at your entrance, begging to be let in. you nod at him, "go ahead, i can take it."

toji is big, much bigger than you've ever had, your face twists in a slight discomfort as you feel yourself stretch around him, "oh you poor thing, not used to having a real man eh?" toji remarks, starting his routine of gentle, short strokes into you. if we're being honest, you weren't 'used to' anything toji did, his deceiving demeanor constantly surprising you.

you wrap your legs around toji as he starts to speed up his thrusts, his long cock poking at your g-spot as you dig your nails into his back.

toji felt the knot in the pit of this stomach tighten as his thrusts got rougher, the rhythm he once had being taken away by how intoxicating your pussy was to him. he buries his face in your neck and leaves bite marks trailing down to your shoulder, "y/n," he warned, "i'm close." maybe he didn't mind having another kid he thought to himself as he saw your face contorting to reflect the intense pleasure his body brought you, "mmmh, too." you mumble, his cock causing you to lose all sense of self as your legs push yourself away from him in a futile attempt to move.

"nuh-uh, doll. no running away this time," toji whispers as he pulls you back to him. now, he's bottomed out, the tip of his member making a clear bump towards the bottom of your stomach. you look down at the symphony of squelching the two of you are making and you cum around toji, gripping his shoulders to stop yourself from ascending to the heavens as your vision turns white. toji grips your hips and proceeds to use you to finish himself off, and you can't say you hated being his toy.

"oh holy shit, y/n. you feel so fucking good wrapped around my cock, look at you, taking it like a good girl." toji says with a whimper as he finishes inside of you. he doesn't pull out right away, in fact, he never wants this moment to end. with your face contorted in pleasure as your sweet pussy was still gripping him, he thinks to himself maybe i don't mind having another kid.

the puzzle the two of you were entangled in dissipated as the grip you had on toji got exceedingly weaker. your legs fall, letting him pull out. the mixture of your fluids soon started to fall from your legs and as you reach for something to clean yourself up with, he stops you. "i want to do it," he says eagerly, your brain unable to decipher what he meant after toji had you reach your limit just now. "okay, but you have to be gentle," you reply sheepishly, willing to take yourself as far as toji would help you along the way. he grins, excited that you're willing to be his toy.

toji gets back into his well-earned spot in-between your legs, your pussy slightly red from the fun he had just had with you. he blows a cold breath onto you, causing you to flinch in excitement. he kisses your entrance before sticking his tongue inside of you, swirling it in circles just how you did when you started this whole thing. you throw your head back against the couch you honestly forgot you were on and scream, "oh god toji, p-please don't stop." your eyes meet as he starts to rub your clit with his thumb.

"oh don't worry, doll. you're my new favorite toy," he says without taking his mouth off of you. you're barely holding on and you know you should've been done a long time ago, but who would've known toji had this much in him? who could've thought he'd have so much of himself in you?

notes: sorry if it's rough! but wow oh wow has this been something ive thought of a lot. i hope you enjoyed xoxo - jib

[bokunoheros]

TAGS/WARNINGS: reader is gender neutral but afab, inappropriate quirk usage (temperature play), pro hero!shouto, shouto and the reader are married, cumming inside, kinda lazy ending bc i wanted to work on day 8 (threesome ft. todobaku) and didn’t know how to finish it lol GENRE: SMUT SUMMARY: shouto can’t help but tease you despite the way you’re always so good for him. WORD COUNT: 2K 🦊’s A/N: god not my ass opening the first two days, anyway here’s my husband ❤️// also, this fic would have been significantly longer had i not previously exhausted myself on this one (pleasepleaseplease read it i put in sm work)

     if shouto todoroki was anything, it was resilient and persistent; throughout his childhood, all throughout the course of his hero training, even with all the setbacks and massive traumas he faced, and now: where you lay squirming and crying beneath him, begging for him to just fuck you despite your cunt already being stuffed by three of his thick, ice cold fingers with your legs tossed over his broad shoulders with his mouth dangerously close to your clit, breath disgustingly hot, making for a sensation that had your overstimulated, puffy pussy drooling as goosebumps rose over your flushed, sweaty skin.

     even with the way his cock twitches in his too-tight briefs, shouto simply shakes his head with a soft, patient smile and hushes you gently. 

     “shh, just one more; cum for me one more time, and i promise i’ll give you what you need,” he coos, gazing up at you from between your legs, his striking, heterochromatic gaze ensnaring your own watery one as you bite your lower lip and nod, eyebrows scrunched up as you wiggle your hips, trying to get away from his frosty fingers despite your agreeance to one more orgasm mere seconds ago. but you knew better—”one more” was never just one more, because there was always another one after that. and another. and probably another after that, because shouto was just that addicted to you: your body, the noises you made, the way your eyes rolled back when he made you cum, or the way your back arched so deeply off the bed as your oversensitive, fucked-out body tried to cope with the feeling of another orgasm.

     jesus, you swore this man would be the death of you.

     “sh–shouto–!” you sniffle, thighs trembling as you prop yourself up on your forearms and look down at him.

     “what is it, love?” his voice is soft and soothing, steady, if not a little breathy, as if he wasn't insanely hard right now—beyond desperate to get his dick wet; while instead, he was knuckle deep in your drenched cunt, playing with you like you were some toy (his favorite toy, really <3) while you whine about how you can't take it anymore.

     “if you want, we can stop all together right now,” shouto suggests in a teasing voice, crooking his fingers upwards inside you as he does so, and he can't help but chuckle at the way your voice cracks slightly when you let out a pitchy no and shake your head; you knew when he said stop entirely, he truly meant entirely—meaning you wouldn't get any of the dick you had waited so, so, soooo patiently for!

     “y–you're so unfa–fair!” you protest, back arching upwards as he brings his hot mouth closer to your disgustingly wet cunt before wrapping his plump lips around your swollen clit, suckling on it gently as his skilled fingers work against your gummy inner walls and you can't help but shudder at the feeling of the frosty digits in contrast to his almost burning mouth, and it's all you can do to whimper and try not to cry as he works you up to another orgasm. you don't even know what number it was anymore. four? five? fuck, your brain was so fuzzy—and you had not only shouto's skilled tongue and fingers playing with your pussy, but the active use of his quirk as well.

     “and?” is all he says as he pulls his thick fingers from your aching cunt with a disgusting schliiick sound so he can make out with your drooling pussy — taking your whole mound into his mouth as he pressed his suddenly ice cold tongue against your slick entrance and engorged clit before the tip of it slowly traces over your inner folds. 

     “nnngh, fuck,” you moan softly when he suddenly dips the freezing muscle into your welcoming heat, making a mental note of the way you tasted, a grin spreading over his glossy lips as he eats you out with nothing but love in heart. 

     shouto was always such a giver in bed — don't get me wrong, he certainly loved being on the receiving end of many things, but he loved being the one to give you (often overwhelming) pleasure the most. he thinks he could get off on your satisfaction alone (and he has before), and he can’t help but let out a low, drawn-out whine as he humps the mattress beneath him, dick straining against his sickeningly restrictive underwear, drooling enough to create a wet patch on the bed where he'd been rutting his hips against the comforter (as long as it can be cleaned later, the youngest of the todoroki family never minds making a mess).

     “soon, honey, soon,” shouto murmurs against your cunt in response to your pitiful swear. “you've earned it,” he praises you, voice a mere whisper, laced with nothing but adoration for you. he was always so proud of you when you managed to withstand his teasing — the way his calloused hands would trail over your body, both extreme temperatures as he toyed with your already stiff nipples thanks to his near feather light touch having trailed already before touching your properly. god, you hated how patient this man could be sometimes, it was truly sickening. because one thing about shouto was that he always took he sweet fuckin’ time with you in the bedroom (and as a result, he hates quickies—he doesn't believe in rushed sex where neither partner can enjoy themselves in full).

     the saccharine tone of his voice had you clenching around nothing as he presses his tongue flat against your clit before circling the freezing muscle around the throbbing bundle of nerves, rapidly cooling it down to an almost unbearable degree. 

     one of your hand comes down to thread itself into his hair, pulling his face closer to your cunt, to which he had no objections, and it isn’t long at all before the familiar knot in your stomach is snapping for the nth time tonight and you’re shamelessly crying out shouto’s name while your back arches deeply off the bed as your husband continues to eat you out throughout the duration of your orgasm.

     “sho—shouto!” you squeal, legs squeezing shut around his head and he lets out a content sigh as he looks up at you with a half-lidded heterochromatic gaze. 

     “i know, baby, i know, you’ve done so well f’me,” he coos gently, pulling away from your cunt and sitting up on his knees in order to tug his boxers down, groaning loudly when his cock finally sprung free and hit against his lower stomach. “fuck,” he hisses, flushed, mushroom headed tip swollen and leaky. 

     “wan’ you s’bad, sho,” you whine, impatiently rolling your hips upwards. 

     “yeah? ‘m all yours, sweetheart,” he says while moving to position himself over you, one hand wrapped around his pretty dick in order to align it with your dripping slit before slowly pushing in, biting his lower lip and letting his head hang down in the crook of your neck to hide his flushed face.

     it takes a moment for him to bottom out, and when he does, you both let out a drawn moan, staying like that for a minute before shouto slowly starts to fuck you, hips moving languidly against yours. his dick throbs deep inside you while the flushed head presses against your g-spot and your hands quickly find purchase on his broad and scarred back, nails digging into the skin there as you cry softly beneath him, mindlessly babbling about how big he was and how good he felt, all of which only fueled shouto’s desire to fuck you stupid (as if he hadn’t already). 

     “mmmnnfgh,” you whimper, raking your nails down his scarred back as you wrap your legs around his waist and cross them at the ankle, pulling his hips flush against yours, his usually neatly trimmed peppermint colored pubes tickling your skin. “oh, baby—you’re fillin’ me up s’good—s–so good,” you coo breathily into his ear, fanning the flames of his ego. “you’re s’fuckin’ big, sho—” so big you feel almost nauseated by the way he thrusts slowly but deeply into you. “nngh–fuck!”

     shouto feels his cock twitch and drool inside you at your praise, and his face only gets hotter as he attaches his cool, slightly chapped lips attach themselves to the junction of your neck and shoulder, biting down gently before sucking on the skin. todoroki usually wasn’t one for marking you up in places visible to others, as littering your body with little hickies and bruises where only he could see was typically more than enough for him, but right now…. he couldn’t stop himself from sucking and nibbling on your neck, relishing in the sweet little noises you couldn’t seem to stop making. 

     shouto feels like he’s drowning in you; your scent, the pathetic little mewls you couldn’t stop from slipping past your mouth, the feel of your body against his, the way your pussy flutters around his dick, squeezing him so tightly he swears as his breath hitches in his throat and his hips stutter against yours as he tries not to immediately cum from the feeling.

     “jesus, honey—keep squeezin’ me like that n’ i don’t think i can last much longer,” he groans, trying to maintain an even pace despite the way he falters ever so slightly in his rhythm as he brings his face up from your neck to rest his forehead against yours—always one for obscene intimacy—and breathes heavily through his nose in attempt to catch his breath as his heart hammers away in his chest. 

     “‘m s–sorry,” you stutter, lightly raking your nails up and down his back before they clasp together behind his neck, glossy lips parted and needy for his own. leaning up slightly, you’re able to steal a kiss from him, hands moving to cup his cheeks tenderly as you tilt your head for a better angle.

     “nngh—” he moans softly against your lips, his left hand trailing down your side in a teasing manner as it snakes its way between your legs to rub softly at your oversensitive clit. 

     “cum in me, shouto—please,” you mumble against his plump lips and you can physically feel the way his dick twitches inside you at your words, and it's all you can do to whine at the combined feeling of his cock buried so deep within you and the near scorching heat of his calloused fingers against your throbbing bundle of nerves.

     his eyes fly open in shock at your words and he has to pull away from the kiss to ask if you’re sure and you nod pathetically, rolling your hips upwards and moaning softly to confirm his ask. after that, it’s only a few more thrusts before both you and your husband are cumming with a loud cry as he stills his hips flush against yours, as he finishes deep, so deep, inside you.

     “god,” you whimper as he slowly pulls out and moves to lay next to you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and pulling you so that you were lying chest to chest, catching your breaths together as you bathed in the quiet afterglow of sex. cleaning up could wait for another five minutes, right? you both deserved a moment of rest after all that.

     as you lay next to your doting husband, icy fingers ghosting over your ribcage down to your hip bone, following the dips and curves of your supple figure, chilling the heated skin along the way. closing your eyes, you take a deep breath, focusing on inhaling your husband’s somewhat musky scent as compared to the sticky feeling of your sweaty bodies pressed together.

     “let’s get you cleaned up, okay?” he suggests softly, to which a warm smile spreads across your face and you nod mindlessly. “‘ll draw you water for a bath,” he offers, starting to get up until you throw a leg over his hip and pull him closer. 

     “five more minutes…. please? ‘m so comfy,” you mumble, and shouto’s barely able to catch it, but he does, and a gentle smile stretches over his lips as he agrees to your terms.

return to KINKTOBER | S. TODOROKI M.LIST

[catiuskaa]

sway with me —bf!minho thoughts.

A/N: the bf!thoughts series is finished! I’m so happy I could finish it. I had so much fun coming up with these lil scenarios. Feel free to check them all out, they’re all linked in my masterlist!

(because everyone loved chan's edition so much and it's really easy to get ot8 brainrot for headcanons and because i love my little bunny boy minho~!)

(this ended up being longer than expected lol)

minho, who’s been training all afternoon inside the company’s practice room. He feels sweaty as he pants, laying on the floor.

minho, who’s so comfortable resting on the wooden floor that doesn’t even bother to open his eyes when the door creaks open, a known silhouette entering with small steps.

minho, who can’t stop a small smile that creeps from the deepest parts of his body when he hears your soft tone of voice call his name, almost in a whisper. “Minho, baby? Are you awake?” For a moment, he pretends to be asleep, and relaxes his body, feeling you move closer to him.

minho, who snickers before lauching his body over yours, rolling on the floor with your body pressed tightly against his, and then stops, smiling from all your giggling when he pins you down.

minho, who gently lowers his head and stays right above yours, almost tempting you to move when he boops your nose with his, then tenderly leaves a shy kiss on your forehead.

minho, who gets too shy after that display of affection that he grins slyly, abruptly letting all his weight on you.

minho, who teasingly refuses to move from on top of you, a childish mockery that you cherish because of how sappy and cute he looks when he wiggles his eyebrows and raises his tone of voice, just like a toddler.

minho, who blushes furiously after you enticingly start peppering his face with kisses, unconciously leaning for more, but then, he reminded himself where you both were.

minho, who quickly rushes back to his feet as you cackle, still on the floor. “Yeah. Reeeeeeally funny.” He mumbles, not being able to cover his red-tinted cheeks or his flustered smile.

minho, who says he has to finish his training. “just one more time, jagi.” He claims, lying through his teeth.

minho, who only wants to dance again because he loves to feel your stare on him as his body moves to the music, smirking at you through the mirror when your cheeks turn slightly pink.

minho, who grins like a fool when you recognize the song and stand up from the sofa, cheeky as you laugh and state that you know this dance better than he does.

minho, who lets you have the spotlight as you laugh, making up moves as you dance, letting the rythm and the melody guide your way.

minnho, who loves to see you dancing anytime, not only because of how good your skills may or may not be, but because how cheerful you look.

minho, who finishes practice and gets home with you with a big smile on his face despite how draining training can get sometimes.

minho, who thinks the best part of the day is when he comes out of the shower and you smile at him, moving your paperwork somewhere else as you start heating up dinner for both of you.

minho, who backhugs you and moves his hand from your waist to underneath your shirt, a move not overly sexual coming from him, but rather one that makes your heart flutter.

minho, who slowly sways your body as he humms, happy that you like dancing and cooking with him, but even happier that you are here with him.

(aish it got so fluffy i almost cried abkdbakdjakd so cute i love minho ajdjajdjkadka —more incomprehensible sounds from cuteness overload—)