#I knew that was gonna happen the moment Vice opened his mouth

[scoups4lyfe]

HELP

IT FLASHES BACK TO IKKI AND HIROMI TRYING TO OPEN THE HIDDEN DOOR IN THE STUPIDEST WAY POSSIBLE

LMAO

Vice immediately opens it on accident

[hayatoseyepatch]

𝕯𝖊𝖘𝖈𝖗𝖎𝖕𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓:The Hoshina brothers have always been in competition with one another. But when Soichiro finally pushes his brother too far what'll happen when they have something entirely new to compete over. 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗:Soshiro & Soichiro Hoshina (Kaiju No. 8) 𝖂𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝕮𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 1.2k 𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖘:Soshiro x Fem!Reader x Soichiro SMUT. 𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘:Spit roasting, threesome, face fucking, hair pulling, praise, degradation, creampie, cum swallowing, implied breeding.

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗’𝖘 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊: I'm gonna be honest, I'm not insanely happy with this one haha I think its because there's not too much to go off with Soichiro or the fact its 5:30 am and im just finishing this. Regardless I hope you enjoy, the full masterlist for my kinktober can be found here.

Full. If you had to describe how you felt in that moment it was absolutely and completely full. Soichiro’s fingers entangled in your hair, using it as leverage to push you further down on his cock, hips meeting your face in time with the movement of his hand. His head thrown back in pleasure as the tip of his cock kissed the back of your throat. You looked absolutely destroyed, tears free streaming down your cheeks, drool dribbling as much as his girth would allow down your chin. Though if you were honest you wouldn’t care less about how you looked, too preoccupied with the way Soshiro’s cock was stretching your cunt.

His strong grip on your waist pulling you back to meet his thrusts, moans muffled by his brother’s cock. The brothers moving in tandem, whenever Soshiro’s cock was buried to the base, only the tip of Soichiro’s cock remained in your mouth, only to reverse with the drag of their cocks in your spent body. You werent sure how you had managed to find yourself as the subject of the Hoshina’s most recent competition, well that was a lie, you knew exactly how you wound up in this position.

Originally you had been a platoon leader, stationed in the third division. You had been there from your original exam, having applied to the third division and eventually ascended the ranks to platoon leader. The third division had become your family. You were especially close with Soshiro, and who knows if you had stayed there longer, perhaps you would have explored the romance budding between you both. However, there was an open vice-captain position, one you had your eye on from the moment you were made aware of it. The only problem, it was in the sixth division, reporting under Soshiro’s brother.

It was the reason you didn’t want to apply, having heard from Soshiro that his relationship with his brother was far from a good one. So when you were called to Mina’s office, told that you had been personally selected for the role, you didn’t know how to react. Having scrambled to tell Soshiro that despite wanting to move up, to show that your hard work had brought you to that level, you hadn’t applied. He sighed, shaking his head.

“I’m not surprised.” He sounded so annoyed, venom slipping into each syllable he spoke. “That’s my brother for you.”

He had given you a smile, one that didn’t quite meet his eyes. He knew this would happen, knew from the moment his brother had seen you both, brushing knuckles with flushed cheeks at the annual awards ceremony that he would pull a stunt like this. He knew Soshiro was harboring feelings for you and he was going to make sure he couldn’t act on them. He wanted you to stay, wanted you to continue to be by his side, but he wouldn’t stifle you, wouldn’t stop you from ascending into a position you so rightfully deserved. And Soichiro knew his younger brother well enough to know that. So, with a smile and a congratulations he sent you off, right into the hands of his older brother.

Soichiro was much different than his younger brother, much more serious and tactful, but with a cocky air about him. Condescension often laced his tone. However, with you he was extremely forthcoming. Soshiro was subtle, gentle barely there touches and sweet words hinting at the potential of feelings. But not Soichiro, exclusively calling you beautiful and letting you know just how interested he was in you. His forwardness paid off, you not being reactive very used to it at this point, by the time his younger brother had paid a visit to the division. Soshiro had seen red, the way his brother rested his hand on your hip, chin resting upon your shoulder to read over a document that sat on his chest. Neither of you had been able to get out so much as a greeting before Soshiro had pulled you out of his brother’s arms. Challenging him for the right to you.

You weren’t sure how long you three had been at this, the bothers having had you in more positions than you could possibly keep up with. Both of the high-ranking officers were determined to show every ounce of their physical prowess. You had lost count of the number of times that all three of you had came, fluids dripping down your thighs and soaking the sheets below.

“God princess you suffocating me, sucking me in so deeply.” Soshiro groaned. “You hear that angel? Thats all you.” He lets out a breathy laugh, tossing his head back as his hips continue their assault. “Well I guess not all you, not with how much of our cum is stuffed in this perfect cunt.”

He moved slowly just so you could hear the lewd sounds your pussy was making for him. Your own wetness, along with the copious amounts of saliva and cum from both of the brothers causes a symphony of squelching noises to fill the room as he continues to fuck your spent pussy. Even he knew that you could hear it in your sex-drunk haze. He hoped his brother was enjoying it just as much as he was.

“Aww poor thing.” Soichiro taunts, voice laced with faux sympathy. “I don’t think she even knows where she is. She’s got so much cum sitting in her belly and cunt. Doesn’t know who’s load is who’s at this point do you sweetheart?”

He coos, laughing maliciously around sharp breaths from the way your throat contracts around his cock. The way you look up at him with tear-filled eyes, barely able to keep them from crossing from the insurmountable pleasure you were receiving at the hands of the brothers. You were drawing close once more, and you could tell the brothers were too. Both of them too proud to be the first to finish, but the way Soshiro’s cock hammered against that perfect sensitive spot buried within you depths had you being the first to be thrown over the edge. Your cries of ecstasy muffled around Soichiro’s cock the added vibration to his already sensitive dick had him cumming next, hot ropes of cum shooting into the back of your throat, reflexively your body welcomed the intrusion, swallowing yet another load before he pulled you off him. Soshiro was only moments behind, feeling proud of himself as he bit down on your shoulder falling over the edge whines and whimpers falling from his lips holding you close to him his hips stilling as he did such as you asked filling you up with everything he had to offer pants falling from his lips.

The three of you collapse onto the mattress, grateful that Soichiro’s bed in the captain quarters had more than enough space to accommodate your spent bodies. You were a mess of tangled limbs, bodies coated with sweat and various fluids as you all made an attempt to catch your breaths. After a moment Soshiro opened his mouth to ask if you had made your decision, had decided who it was that you wanted. But upon calling your name and seeing the way your eyes were still glazed over, exhaustion overtaking you, his brother decided to speak up instead.

“Well, I guess since she’s too cock drunk to answer we’ll just have to see who’s cum stuck. Whoever knocks her up, wins.”

𝕯𝖎𝖛𝖎𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝖇𝖞 @/𝖈𝖆𝖋𝖊𝖐𝖎𝖙𝖘𝖚𝖓𝖊 & @/𝖘𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖉𝖎𝖐𝖆-𝖌𝖗𝖆𝖕𝖍𝖎𝖈𝖘.

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: @pixelcafe-network @interstellar-inn @littleplantfreak @maruflix @umemiaa @stunies @eevees-hobbies @143-ilyuu @uzxotic @princesstiti14 (𝖕𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖊 𝖋𝖊𝖊𝖑 𝖋𝖗𝖊𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙/𝖉𝖒/𝖆𝖘𝖐 𝖎𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖜𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖇𝖊 𝖆𝖉𝖉𝖊𝖉 𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖘𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖔𝖗 𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖔𝖋 𝖒𝖞 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖐𝖙𝖔𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝖋𝖎𝖈𝖘) (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.ﾟ

[dollfacefantasy]

Like a Friend

pairing: toji fushiguro x fem!reader

summary: it's been months since you and toji split. when he shows up at your apartment, you struggle to not fall back into his arms.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, toxic relationship dynamics

word count: 4.7k

a/n: commission for @nexysworld <3

One eye cracks open when a loud pounding sound rouses you from your sleep. You sit up, rubbing your face and yawning. The red numbers on your alarm clock glare 2:37. After a few more moments of it, you register the sound as knocking on your front door. As you drag yourself from the comforts of your bed, you wonder who and why. Who would not only disturb you at this hour, but also be so brash about it? You kind of hoped it was no one you knew so you wouldn’t have to deal with anyone’s bullshit problems at nearly three in the morning.

When you arrive at the entryway and glance through the peephole on the door, your wishes dissipate immediately. Standing outside your place was the biggest bullshit problem you’d ever encountered. You unlock your door and crack it open, the bright light of the hallway making you squint as it casts over you.

“Toji?” you ask, your voice still a bit raspy from disuse.

“Hey baby,” he says quietly. Despite his subdued tone, he still flashes you that grin that lets you know he’s still himself.

“What… what are you doing here?” you mumble. You rub your face again to try and make yourself a little more presentable. Even though he was an asshole and you couldn’t say enough about how you had totally moved on, the sight of his shaggy hair hanging in front of his eyes and the faded scar on the corner of his mouth still made your heart flutter.

“The place I was staying kind of fell through. But you know, it’s kind of a good thing. Brought me back to you. I’ve been missing you a lot,” he says.

You roll your eyes. He must need more than just a night to get himself together with how thick he was laying it on.

He reaches out to stroke the curve of your cheek. His rough fingers drag against the soft skin while the two of you stare at each other. You know you should swat his hand away. Tell him to go to hell. Get lost and lose your number. But you can’t be that cruel. Not to him. Even with everything that’d happened, all the tears he’d caused and days he’d ruined, he was still your Toji. Your bad habit. Your never-ending vice. A piece of you that’d you’d never cut out no matter how rotten it became.

“Fine, c’mon,” you relent. You open the door wider and allow him entry.

“That’s my girl,” he says and steps through.

“Don’t call me that,” you say quietly. You were falling for it, but he didn’t have to throw it in your face.

After following you in, he doesn’t shut the door behind him. You raise an eyebrow.

“Before we catch up…” he starts with a chuckle, “I kind of need you to pay for my ride. I don’t have any cash on me.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you ask, walking to the window and looking down. As he said, the cab was waiting outside.

All the dreamy thoughts you’d just had about him being yours no matter what start to have a bleak tint. Your gaze hardens as a harsh sigh leaves your lips.

“Fine, but you’re gonna pay me back,” you say. You stop at the counter to grab your wallet and fish out some cash. Then you slap it into his palm and gesture for him to go. Sure you’d give him the money, but no way were you gonna scamper down there out into the cold in your pajamas.

He leans down and gives you a small peck on the cheek before heading out. You stand in your living room alone. He was still affectionate even though you’d been apart for months. You knew he was that way with his words. The occasional texts he sent you during this break always held copious amounts of “baby’s” and “my pretty girl’s.” You just didn’t expect him to touch you like nothing was different.

You rub your eyes in a mix of frustration and exhaustion. Deciding to be proactive, you occupy the small wait for his return by setting up some things on the couch. You rifle through the closet in the hallway to find some spare bedding. Pillows are easy, you toss two spare ones over to your couch. Blankets are more difficult. You initially grab the fluffy lavender one he gave you for your last birthday. It looked brand new. You hadn’t had much time to use it before you kicked him out. Then when it felt like he was actually gone for good, you’d clutched it to your chest while crying your eyes out for days. But since that week, it remained hidden away in the depths of this closet.

He probably wouldn’t even notice if you did put it out, but he didn’t need confirmation that you hadn’t thrown the stuff he gave you away. So instead, you pull out an old blue one with little fish all over it. You spread it out on the couch as he slips back into the apartment, this time closing the door and locking it. Your back is turned while smoothing out the wrinkles in the plush fabric, so you don’t see him sliding a leftover bill into his pocket.

As you finish up the makeshift bed on the couch, he approaches you. He places a cautious hand on your waist, his fingertips rubbing tiny strokes on your t-shirt.

“You’re really gonna put me out on the couch? I thought you’d want me in bed, all to yourself. Like old times,” he teases.

“I don’t want it to be like old times,” you say.

“C’mon, they weren’t all bad,” he says and pulls you a little closer, “You used to love to cuddle. You’d curl right up to me, give me those little kisses. We had a lot of fun together in that bed.”

You look up at him. His familiar eyes meet yours. It would be so easy to give in. To connect your lips and pull him back to your bed that had been missing his presence for months.

“We did. But not anymore. They’re good memories, and that’s it,” you say, turning your head and stepping away. You needed the distance between the two of you.

You further separate yourself from him by sitting in the chair near the couch. It was a single seat, no room for anyone else to slide in next to you and drape their arm around your shoulders. He knows what you’re doing of course. You can see the look of amusement in his eyes. This was how you got during fights. You just closed off, tried to remove yourself from him and not engage. It was kind of cute you hadn’t changed.

He plays along and sits down on the couch, leaning back into the cushions and propping his legs on your table. The silence between the two of you feels heavy. It fills up the room, suffocating any space words could have gone.

“Do you want a drink?” you manage to get out.

“I’m fine,” he says. And in contrast to you, he did seem fine. He seemed unbothered by the lack of conversation. He looked content to stare at you, drag his eyes over every detail of your figure.

“Are you ok?” you ask. You just couldn’t take the silence.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he asks in return.

“Cause you said you didn’t have anywhere to go and the place you were staying, something went wrong,” you answer.

“That was nothing, I’m fine,” he deflects.

“Well I just want to know if I should be concerned if there’s a hit out on you or something. If someone’s gonna burst through my door in a few minutes cause you ripped them off,” you say and cross your arms.

“Nothing that serious. Just some lady problems,” he says with a smirk.

A dark cloud forms over your head at this. It wasn’t like he was cheating. You weren’t together anymore. But the thought of him with another woman drove you crazier than just about anything else. And of course he knew that.

“What happened? She get smart enough to kick your ass out?” you say, unsuccessfully masking the bitterness in your tone.

“Something like that,” he says. He pauses, still looking smug as ever. “Why? Are you jealous?”

“You wish,” you respond. He doesn’t seem to believe you.

Another bout of uncomfortable silence crowds the distance between you two. This time it’s broken by him.

“You got anyone I should be jealous of?” he asks.

“That’s none of your business,” you answer without a second thought.

“Guess not. I mean if you did, you probably wouldn’t be letting me crash on your couch. And anybody who was a real threat would be here. Would’ve answered the door instead of you,” he mocks.

You roll your eyes yet again. “You’re so smart,” you say.

He shrugs. “Only when it comes to you.”

Rage boils within you. You know you shouldn’t feed into him, give him what he wants by getting all riled up. Your rational mind knows this. But the irrational part of you loves the game. Walking as close as you can to the line without stepping across. Pulling and pulling until you feel something about to snap.

“Well I’m not like you. I take a while to move on since you actually mattered to me. I just can’t jump into someone else’s arms and pretend that nothing is different,” you say.

“Don’t start that shit. Don’t act like I’m some cold-blooded asshole who broke your innocent little heart,” he says. His eyes don’t leave you once.

“You did break my heart and you are a cold-blooded asshole, so tell me where the lie is,” you challenge.

“You aren’t innocent,” he states, “You could get just as nasty when we were fighting. And you’re the one who broke up with me.”

“Because you are a dick. Cause and effect. If you weren’t so insufferable, we wouldn’t have so many fights, and I wouldn’t have broken up with you,” you point out.

“So it’s all my fault? You never do anything wrong? Whatever you say, baby,” he says, now taunting you with the pet name.

“I didn’t say I never do anything wrong. But everything we fought about is because you did something stupid,” you say.

“I make a little mistake once in a while and you blow up on me. I think you just like fighting,” he says.

You dig your nails into the flesh of your arm to keep your temper from flaring. You begin to wonder if it’s too late to throw him out again. Part of you had the urge to go back in time and slap the version of yourself that let him in cause he was “your Toji.” But really, this was your Toji. Your Toji with his sleazy smile, dumb shaggy hair, smug eyes, and chilling voice. This was the man who had you hopelessly trapped.

“Whatever,” you huff, determined to prove him wrong. You rise from your chair and walk towards the hall that leads to your room. “I’m going back to bed. Do what you want, just stay out of my room. If you want to change, I can bring you some clothes.”

“You have clothes here that will fit me? Maybe I should be jealous,” he says, leaning forward and resting an elbow on his knee.

And instead of taking advantage of his assumption, like he would have done to you, your mouth opens and words fly out before you can even think of that.

“They’re your-” you start, your mental brakes screeching to a halt. Suddenly, you felt so stupid for putting so much thought into avoiding the purple blanket.

The smile that breaks out on his face is so wide it’s almost unsettling. It would be if it was anyone else.

“Aw baby,” he coos mockingly, “You didn’t get rid of my clothes? You still been using ‘em? Cause that’s fine you know. I like it when they smell like you.”

You didn’t even know what to say. You had used them a few times since he’d been gone, but it wasn’t like a regular thing. You did like that they smelled like him, and you liked hearing that he felt the same way about you. But he couldn’t win.

“Just shut up. Do you want them or not?” you say and look away.

“No, baby. I’ll be fine. Thank you,” he says, every word dripping with condescension.

You slink away without returning the courtesy. It takes you no time to collapse back into your bed, but resuming the sleep he had torn you from proves more difficult. Your thoughts just keep drifting back to him. You toss and turn, legs kicking away the blankets and then arms pulling them back.

He really was out there on your couch. You thought you may never see him again. You’d broken up a few times before over different small things, but this time felt different. It was supposed to be for real. But just like that, he came back. 

Now that he had returned, you felt the dull ache for him returning as well. You had hoped it shrunk over time until eventually it didn’t exist, but here it was, showing itself again. You know you shouldn’t, but you were starting to regret not asking him to join you. He was fucking infuriating, but you had missed him so much. He could help push away the memories of loneliness that had occupied your bed in his wake.

After nearly an hour of this, you manage to slip into some form of sleep. It felt like you were still awake, but far away. You were floating, drifting around aimlessly. You were resting, but you probably wouldn’t feel that way if you woke up right now.

You’re deep enough that you don’t hear your door creaking open. You don’t feel the mattress dip slightly with additional weight. You don’t sense your blanket being lifted as another body slides in next to yours. You only begin to wake once you feel his skin on yours, his thick arms wrapping around you and pulling you close.

You babble tiredly as he presses kisses to the back of your neck. Humming in confusion, you turn and crack your eyes open to see what’s happening.

“Toji?” you croak when you register his face so close to yours. 

He’s still kissing up and down your neck. His fingers trace little patterns on the skin of your waist. Once you realize it’s him and what he’s doing, you squirm. You whine and try to pry his arms off you.

“Stop. What'd I tell you? Quit it,” you grumble as you struggle more with him.

He squeezes you tighter and nuzzles you. “But it’s cold out there, sweetheart. Lonely too,” he murmurs.

“Don’t care. It’s the couch or the curb, so take your pick,” you yawn.

“Baby, it’s me. I’ve been missing you so bad. And I wasn’t being a very good guest before. Let me make it up to you a little,” he whispers.

“No,” you whine, “Make it up by letting me sleep.”

“You can sleep whenever. I’m here right now,” he purrs. His fingers ghost along your waist making you squirm and whine at the slight tickle.

“Why do you always have to be so annoying?” you huff and try to readjust to be comfortable within his hold since he shows no signs of letting up.

“You know you like it.”

He pulls you tighter against him and drags his nose against the curve of your neck, inhaling your scent. It felt good, natural more than anything else. Like this is how things should be.

“Has anyone been in this bed since I left?” he taunts.

“You already asked me about that, and it’s still none of your business,” you respond.

“Can’t be too careful. Especially with a cute thing like you,” he says.

“Just shut up and go to sleep. Count yourself lucky I’m not forcing you back to the couch,” you say as if you could actually force him to do anything.

“It’s been months. You really want sleep more than you want me?” he teases and nips at your earlobe.

The drag of his teeth on your flesh pulls you back into the waking world a bit more. Your sleepy eyes open more and take in the sight of his face. He looked almost innocent in a way, like he was truly just asking for another chance to connect.

He leans in for another kiss, this time catching your lips with his own. His toned chest and abdomen pressed against the softness of your side, and despite his claims of being cold, he felt like a space heater the way warmth radiated off him.

You indulge him a bit, gently reciprocating the affection for a moment. But after a few soft movements of your lips, you pull away.

“We can’t… I shouldn’t do this,” you whisper through the darkness of your bedroom.

“Why not?” he says back. His fingers rise to your face, stroking over your temple, from your hairline to your cheekbone.

“I can’t do this again. I’m tired of it. I’m tired of believing you’ll be different and then you’re not. And then we break up again and then make up a little bit later. It’s exhausting,” you sigh.

“It will be different this time, babe. You recognizing this stuff shows that it will be,” he says and brushes his thumb over your lips. He moves even closer to you, as close as he possibly can be. “You’re so pretty,” he murmurs.

The soft hum of his voice alone made you want to give in. Combine it with his gentle touches and firm body, you were fighting with your urges to let him ruin you. Your head tilts back to contemplate, and he takes advantage of the position to start peppering kisses on your throat, sucking love bites into the sensitive flesh.

“Toji,” you whimper, “Stop, you’re gonna leave a mark.”

“I wanna leave a mark, baby. Gotta remind everyone that you belong to me. Can’t have you forgetting either,” he mutters.

A breathy whine floats through your room, and one of your hands laces itself in his hair. You close it into a fist, giving the dark locks a little pull. Your mind was an echo chamber of don’t don’t don’t stop stop stop. But familiar heat bloomed between your legs as his large palm coasted up your side to find one of your breasts. The sound of his lips on your skin and his shallow breaths gave you heart palpitations.

“I didn’t forget,” you gasp softly as his fingers dig into your tit.

“Yeah? So you’re all mine still?” he teases.

“Mhm,” you hum, taking the last step to giving in.

“That’s right,” he says. You can feel his smirk against his neck. “My baby. Back where she belongs.”

“I missed you too,” you whimper as he continues the assault on your neck.

“I know you did,” he breathes as his tongue slides over your skin.

His hand continues to grope your breast. You arch into his touch, a wordless plea for more. He snakes the limb beneath the thin fabric of your shirt and finds your soft skin. With no barrier separating the two, his fingers toy with your nipple. They pinch and pull, twist and tease. They’re merciless until he feels the small bud start to peak. That acts as his signal to direct his attention downwards. 

He moves to be more on top of you. His thumbs hook beneath the hem of your shirt and pull it up over the swell of your chest. Immediately, his mouth latches onto the nipple his fingers had neglected. His saliva coats the area as his tongue laves on the skin, getting it to rise to attention just as the other day.

“Been missin’ these perfect tits,” he mumbles before using his mouth again, “No one else could take care of ‘em like me.”

You whine and squirm a bit, your hands staying firm in their grip on his head. You nod along with his words. A completely thoughtless gesture. You didn’t even fully register them. Your mind simply believed he couldn’t be wrong while making you feel so good.

As he works on warming you up, he begins peeling off your clothing. Your shirt comes over your head and falls off the side of the bed. Your bottoms are next, slid down and flung away from the two of you. He kisses down your belly before leaning back on his knees. His shirt meets yours on the ground when he pulls it off.

You’d seen it so many times before, but you couldn’t help gawking at his figure. Your fingers glide up his abdomen, feeling every ridge in his abs. He smiles down at your wondrous expression.

“Remembering exactly what you missed, hm?” he asks.

You reach up to pull him down to you at the same time he starts lowering himself. Lips collide and hands slide all over now bare skin. Your fingers find the familiar grooves on his back that they always dug into when he was buried deep inside you. His digits snake beneath your panties and slip between your folds.

“You’re so fuckin’ wet,” he laughs against your mouth, “That’s probably just her natural reaction when I’m around though.”

You grumble in response and try to mute his words by making out. He cuts you a break and does shut up for once while rubbing your pussy some more and getting your panties off. It’s not long before he follows suit by freeing his cock and brushing it through your slick.

“Time to see if she’s as tight as I remember,” he grunts as he lines up and then sinks in.

Your heat engulfs him like it’s a natural fit. Your walls squeeze around him, the massaging sensation making his breaths more labor.

“Fuck… might be tighter. Think she’s begging me not to leave again,” he teases.

He begins thrusting, working his hips back and forth. He’s so big that he’s instantly hitting pleasure spots. You sigh and wrap your limbs around him more.

“Just be quiet,” you whimper as your cheeks burn.

“Not a fan of me making fun of you?” he mocks, “Doesn’t shock me since you didn’t before. You’re just usually more agreeable while stuffed full of cock.”

You go to argue, but the words in your throat die and shrivel up into a whine. Your body rocks with each of his motions. He’s not even going that hard yet, but you still feel his raw strength as his muscles flex against you.

“Aw, it’s ok, dollface. You just go a little dumb. It’s only natural for bratty girls like you,” he coos.

The whole time he continues, in and out. You stay tight around him, and you start thinking his theory about you not wanting him to leave may have some truth to it. This felt so good. So much better than the couple guys you’d had in between. And even though you are going to be fucked dumb soon enough, you’re not totally there yet.

“The only time you don’t act dumb is when you have your dick out,” you say between soft sounds of pleasure.

He grips your hips harder upon hearing your words. “That so?” he grunts. He picks up the pace, his pelvis making a loud noise every time it slams against your ass. “Like I said, the only time your silly little head isn’t clouded by your attitude is when I calm you down on my cock. So shut it and let all those thoughts melt away.”

And you listen because despite your little comments, you liked how it felt to lose everything except him. You couldn’t live without the feeling that nothing else in the world mattered but you and him. All your worries that plagued you during every other moment of the day transformed into distant ideas as the feeling of him battering into your cunt moved to the forefront.

And as much as you love feeling it, he loves watching it. He loves watching your eyes blank and become thoughtless, totally dependent on him to guide you to release. He was obsessed with the way you’d start to drool. Your inhibitions all but disappeared, and he couldn’t get enough. He’d never admit it to you, but he could never find anyone else with reactions that captivated him as much.

After an extra sharp thrust, your body seizes up and you shriek. “Toji!” you cry out.

“Mhm, never too dumb to remember that, are you? My little slut always knows who owns her,” he says.

You nod mindlessly, your head bobbing in wide movements. “Fuck me so good,” you babble, “No one else. Don’t want anyone else. Always gonna be you.”

“Good girl,” he grunts, “Pussy’s all for me. Takes me like it was made for me.”

“It’s all yours. Nobody else gets it,” you whine.

“Gonna be mine forever. Just look at you. No one else could do this to you. You ever fuck anyone else, and all they’re gonna get out of it is that they’re not as good as me,” he moans while ricocheting his hips off yours.

You gasp, getting to the point where words are an unrealistic concept.

“All your neighbors already know who this pussy belongs too. I’ve got you trained so well, I know my dumb little girl calls for me whenever she cums, even when I’m not there,” he whispers. His voice was starting to strain under the proximity of release. “Even when you’re just soooo mad at me. You press your toys to that pretty little clit to blow off steam, and you can’t help but cry out-”

“Toji!” you mewl as if he had been asking you. It was good to know your mind was still good for at least one word.

He grins like a madman and drills into you harder. Your limbs flail and your noises become short and rhythmic.

“You take any cock from any guy, and what are they hearing the whole time?” he asks.

“Toji!” you repeat.

“What was that? Don’t think they could hear you.”

“Toji, Toji, Toji,” you sob out.

“Good baby. Perfect little whore all for me. Never letting you go again,” he grunts.

“Never gonna be apart again. Gonna be yours forever,” you mumble.

Both of your breathing is picking up. Your chests puff against each other as your sweaty skin rubs against one another. It’s all a blur at the end, like always. You think you cum first, but as soon as you hit that high, you pretty much black out. The room spins and your vision fills with stars. All you really register are his groans that make your tummy flutter, and the feeling of his warmth flooding your pussy as he shoots his load inside.

This time though, the after part is fuzzy too. You vaguely feel him pull out and guide you to lay against his chest. You feel his lips against your head and his large hands cradling you close, but then you’re gone. You pass out and sleep till late in the morning.

By the time your eyes reopen, the room is full of sunlight. You take a second to remember the previous night and all that happened. Surprisingly, a sense of regret didn’t crash into you like a swat van. You actually feel some sort of satisfaction. You feel sated. The ache is gone at least for now. You have him back. As he opens his eyes and sits up to give you a kiss, you return the gesture in full.

“You gonna stay a while?” you whisper.

“Yeah. No reason for me to leave,” he says.

You give him another kiss before he lies down again and pulls you onto his chest again to rest some more. You sink into his toned body. He was yours again. You could admit now that you never stopped being his. As you lay there and absorb the dreamy atmosphere in your room right now, your poor heart truly believes that this time will be different.

[him-x-her]

Kiss The Bear

Author: @sinnysioux

One shot fic: requested by @sincerelyaliciaamarie

Ville Valo x f!reader

Summary: You and Ville get drunk, get into an argument and have sex.

18+

Alicia slammed the shot glass down with force, lips pursed, determined to swallow the liquor. It tasted vile; medicinal. Her oesophagus was on fire.

“Have you had enough, yet?” grinned Ville, teasing, leaning in to gauge her reaction. It was always the same whenever she drank with the boys: forever a competition to see how much she could drink before giving up and allowing them to make fun of her.

“Fucking Jager, I hate drinking with you guys.” She muttered, dishonestly, rolling her eyes. She had made a valiant attempt at pretending she was unphased by the strength and volume of the alcohol she had consumed tonight, but it made them all the more determined to get her to tap out.

Ville was giggly, and had probably had more than enough to drink, but she knew better than to come between a Finn and his vice. She watched as Ville’s long, slender fingers produced a cigarette from his back pocket; the cancer stick forcing his lips apart as he lit it and inhaled. He closed his eyes for a moment, his desperate need for nicotine fed, opened his glazed eyes, and focused on her.

Alicia wore tight black skinny jeans and an old Black Sabbath shirt Ville had given up. The truth was he had taken it off many band practices ago and Alicia had stolen it. She had knotted the front to create a crop fitted shirt out of the loose boy fit, and it complimented her perfectly. Ville often joked that he would reclaim it when she least expected it, but insofar had not made good on his promise.

“Earth to Ville?” She yelled, which seemed to snap him out of his trance.

“What?” He asked, his gaze snapping up to meet hers, guiltily, hoping she had not noticed his fixation on her figure.

“Maybe you’ve had enough, hmm? Guess you’re the one who can’t drink like a Finn…” She teased.

“NEVER!” he declared, pouring and downing himself yet another shot. Boys sure were stupid, and oh so easy to manipulate. She was hell bent on ensuring he passed out first and she would never let him live it down.

The group gathered in the lounge and made themselves comfy on the floor. Mige laid a bottle on the ground. Mige was unshaven, had grown out his hair, and really didn’t give much of a shit. Alicia liked that about him; he was nothing if not authentic.

“The fuck is this?” Questioned Linde, his distaste made public via his sour expression.

“Spin the bottle!” Smirked Mige. “I’m gonna make you kiss me, you dreadlocked cunt!” The group howled with laughter and Linde muttered something about it being more preferable to make out with a wild animal. The bottle spun and landed on Burton, and next his girlfriend.

“Boring!” Yawned Ville, rudely accurate, as the couple kissed sweetly. The bottle span again and landed on Ville. Alicia couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if it landed on her next. She watched the bottle spin with anticipation, her heart in her mouth. The disappointment was disconcerting when it landed on Mige.

“Come here, you hairy bastard!” Teased Ville, straddling Mige’s lap and forcing a kiss upon his closed lips. Mige shoved him off and raucous hilarity ensued. Ville peeled his jeans low enough to grab his crotch lewdly in the direction of Mige, who made fun of his ‘tiny cock’. The drink was starting to hit Alicia as she found herself wondering what was beneath Ville’s boxers.

Alicia suddenly found the room staring at her in amusement.

“What?!” She implored anxiously, before the penny dropped at Mige’s ridiculously animated pout. “No, absolutely not.”

“A dare’s a dare!” Heckled Ville. “KISS THE BEAR!” Alicia began to feel lightheaded as chants of ‘Kiss! The! Bear!’ filled the room, the men slamming their fists down to the ground to the beat of each syllable. No, she didn’t want this. She had wanted to kiss Ville, and she hadn’t been prepared for any other outcome. Overwhelmed with the noise, the lighting and the alcohol, feeling the blood rush to her cheeks, Alicia acted impulsively. She slipped off her heels, unbuttoned her skinny jeans and pulled them down.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Whispered Ville, eyes wide, as the rest of the group cheered.

“I’m not kissing you, Mige, I would lose my face in your beard.” She declared confidently. “But I also don’t shy away from a dare.” She snatched the half-empty can from Ville’s fingers and folded her bare legs beneath her as she sat back down. She could feel Ville’s eyes on her in disbelief before he got up to fetch another can.

Alicia grew increasingly bored with the game, and the hairy men making out in front of her, until the bottle landed on Ville once again. Her interest piqued and her heart leapt in her chest, time stood still as the bottle spun for an eternity… before it pointed at her. Alicia’s wide brown eyes connected with Ville’s timid green; she sensed a fear, and the tension was thick in the air between them. Ville broke the eye contact, stood, and pulled his own jeans down.

“What the fuck?” Whispered Alicia, barely audible. Would he seriously rather strip than kiss her? Alicia looked away, trying to mask her disappointment, and dress it up as disinterest instead. Still she couldn’t hide her sour expression and the need for revenge. Maybe she could kiss one of the boys enthusiastically in front of Ville, to show him how much he missed out.

Alicia spaced out while the game continued; she was starting to sober and she hated it. She was becoming increasingly aware that she was sat on the floor in her panties and she felt incredibly stupid. Snapping out of her self pity with a roar of laughter, she looked up. The bottle was pointing at her. Great, what unwashed miscreant did they want her to kiss next? Mige span the bottle for it to land on Ville once again, but this time it was Alicia’s turn to make the move.

She took a covert breath, and stood. In her brief moment of ascension she decided she would fuck with Ville. She positioned herself in front of Ville and straddled his lap.

“Look, he can finally stop crying about women in our songs!” Laughed Mige. Time stood still as Ville stared up at Alicia with hopeful curiosity. Alicia bit her lip seductively and inched closer to him; she could hear the quickening of his breath as his lips parted slowly.

Brutally severing their connection, Alicia pulled back and stood up, taking a few steps back. She smirked as she began to undo the knot of her shirt, as the rest of the boys cheered.

Ville pursed his lips, glared at Alicia and stood up. He charged at her and threw her over his shoulder.

“What the FUCK, Ville? Put me down!” She yelled as he marched her into the bedroom. His strong arm wrapped around her legs. He paused at the door to address his friends. “This is for MY eyes only.” He bellowed as he slammed the door and let Alicia down.

Alicia was full of adrenaline, a mix of excitement and also anger. “What gives you the right?!” She challenged.

Ville leaned against the wall and folded his arms. He looked less formidable without jeans, in an Iron Maiden shirt and boxers, his legs blindingly pale in contrast. He was evidently furious, but addressed her calmly, “That’s my shirt.”

Alicia pulled the shirt over her head, rolled it into a ball of cloth, and threw it at Ville. It hit him in the chest. “There!” Barked Alicia, “You’ve won it back, you asshole.” She glared back, the tension once again lingering around them. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to kiss him or slap him. Her chest heaving furiously, her breathing began to slow as she calmed.

Ville moved from the wall to stand a couple feet or so in front of Alicia; his hands grabbed the hem of his shirt as he pulled it up and over his head with ease.

“Your move.” He dared, his eyes flitting to her black lace bra.

Alicia felt the blood rush to her cheeks again, hyper aware of the skin already on show. Chewing on her lip nervously, she reached behind her and unclasped her bra. The material loosened as she placed her hands on the cups to prevent spilling out of them. She precariously peeled her straps off over her shoulders one by one, and looked up at Ville. His lips were parted, he was breathing heavily, and his eyes searched hers in anticipation of her next move. Maintaining their eye contact, she dropped her palms and her bra fell to the floor. Ville’s eyes dropped to her chest and widened as her nipples hardened, exposed to the cool air. Her long dark hair framed the picture perfectly which Ville would later commit to memory.

Commanding his full attention once again, Alicia spoke nervously. “Your turn.” She held her breath, her eyes lowering, noticing the stretch in the black cotton of his underwear where his arousal was evident.

Ville looked down and blushed with a smile. He was cute when he wanted to be. His fingers peeled between his boxer hem and skin, rolling the waistband over his hips and allowing them to drop to the floor. His large cock stood to attention as Alicia gasped, she felt her panties moisten as her mind became full of depraved and delicious images. She suddenly found herself incredibly thirsty, saliva lubricating the walls of her mouth.

“Take them off.” Ordered Ville, his lustful eyes fixated on the lace between her legs. “Let me see all of you.”

Alicia, usually full of sarcasm and sass, could not find the words to speak, and was compelled by him. She found her pussy throbbing, aching for him, and there was no alternative but to surrender to his command.

Her fingers shaking slightly, Alicia slipped them into her waistband to pull her panties down. She bent down to slip out of the lace and straightened up. Exposed to his judgement.

“Fucking beautiful.” Muttered Ville, his eyes raking over her naked flesh. He inched closer, the sexual tension thickening. Alicia could not let go of his gaze, anxious for what would happen next, hypnotised by his intense green eyed-stare. He towered over her before softly uttering “Kiss me.”

Alicia placed her palm on Ville’s cheek and tiptoed to meet his lips. They were soft, plump, and he smelled positively flammable. She ran her tongue across his lips as she kissed him sweetly. Alicia gasped and looked down to confirm what she felt. Sure enough Ville’s cock was poking her in the stomach. She felt a small flood between her legs. Though she was struggling to make sense of her emotional feelings, her physical feelings were obvious. Alicia wanted to ride Ville until they both passed out.

As if he could read her lust, Ville kissed her deeply; his tongue forcefully claiming her hot mouth. His strong large hands on her waist began to slip down to grope at her hips. Very suddenly, a finger made its way between her labia lips and she gasped audibly at this delicious violation. A second finger joined the first and Alicia moaned loudly, as her pleasure dripped down to anoint Ville.

“Tell me what you want me to do, baby.” His deep baritone voice making her pulsate with wanting.

“Fuck me.” She begged.

“So impatient.” Chuckled ville, softly falling to his knees. Alicia began to tremble and the fine hairs on her body stood on end as she looked down. Ville kept hold of her gaze as he tongued her slit.

“Oh my god!” Moaned Alicia as Ville lapped at her clitoris with his tongue, dining on the waves of pleasure that dripped from her. He continued to use his fingers, in and out over and over, teasing her with his delicate penetration, as her back fused to the wall in a desperate attempt to remain upright. Her legs began to give way but Ville caught her in his strong arms. His hands snaked around Alicia’s thighs to her ass, lifting her onto her tiptoes so that he could feast on her fully. With each stroke of Ville’s tongue, she became more and more sensitive; she moaned and panted and begged as she came between his lips. Alicia all but collapsed onto Ville as he lifted her and carried her to the bed.

She lay her head down on the soft pillow as he climbed on top of her. Ville began to lick and kiss along her jaw and neck. Alicia squealed at the feel of his wet mouth so close to her chest. His hot and no doubt drunken breath danced along her skin, across her collarbone, lower… oh.

The top of Ville’s tongue found a nipple and pulled it teasingly between his teeth. Alicia’s orgasm had not reduced her wanting in the slightest. Everything south of her navel throbbed and ached for him. She had spent years secretly pining for his touch, and now she would take everything she wanted.

Alicia’s hand found Ville’s shoulder and gently pushed him to the side. He rolled over onto his back and watched her with lustful curiosity. She ran her palms down his smooth chest and wrapped one around his hard cock. He gasped ever so slightly; his eyebrows raised in anticipation. Alicia returned his stare as her wet lips found themselves wrapped around the warm and pink head of his manhood. Ville’s head lolled back as Alicia began to suck.

Ville moaned softly and opened his eyes to take in the vision of her pleasuring him. “You are so fucking beautiful with my dick in your mouth.” He murmured, slightly out of breath, his hand slid to the back of her head, guiding himself further down her throat gently.

Alicia got the message; pushing to swallow every inch of him in ignorance of her own gag reflex. He would never be able to say she wasn’t great at giving head. She chased his orgasm ferociously. Alicia wasn’t sure if they had a future after tonight, so she had to ensure this encounter was everything.

“No.” Moaned Ville. “I’m not finishing in your mouth, baby, let me fuck you.” Who was Alicia to argue? Kneeling, her thighs around his waist, she began to lower herself onto him. His moist head found her soaking slit and forced its way in. Alicia threw her head back in pleasure as Ville gripped her hips aggressively and began to pound her aching pussy.

There followed a symphony of euphoric phrases. In between Ville’s “Fuck!” and Alicia’s “Don’t stop!” the lovers moved in sync with each other.

“Get on your back.” Commanded Ville, suddenly. Alicia dismounted him obediently and did what she was told. Ville positioned himself in between her soft, legs and once again tore into her, leaving bruises on her thighs with his fingertips. His hips jolted forwards and back as he slammed into her over and over viciously and relentlessly. With each thrust, Ville pounded into Alicia’s cervix as she screamed in ultimate pleasure. With each wave, Alicia found herself getting closer, her mound beginning to heat, the pressure beginning to build. Small gasps of air escaped her lips as her sharply manicured nails left red claw marks up and down Ville’s back. They would both be incredibly sore in the morning.

“I- I’m gonna cum.” He moaned softly as he left lashings of thick white love inside her. Alicia wrapped her legs around Ville’s waist at the height of their shared orgasm. They lay there, clammy and entangled for several minutes as their heart rates lowered and their breathing returned to normal. Ville slid out of Alicia and gracefully lay down next to her. His heavy eyes found her, and they lay locked in each other’s gaze.

It was a minute before Alicia remembered… “Oh god, they probably heard us!” She covered her hands with her face and cringed with the shame.

Ville chuckled. “You were incredibly loud…” He smirked.

Alicia rolled over, her head resting on her elbow. “And whose fault was that, hmm?”

Ville blushed, “I regret nothing. Seeing those tits… this has been the best night of my life.” He grinned.

Alicia threw back her head and laughed. “You’re damn right… I don’t get these out for just anybody, you know.”

“Oh?” Questioned Ville, leaning in. “It looked like the whole apartment was very close to getting a show.”

Alicia sighed, “I didn’t want to kiss Mige, I wanted to kiss you. I panicked and… this Finnish asshole made me do shots of jagermeister.”

“He was a bit of an asshole, yes. He didn’t want to share you.” He smiled.

“Well, now you don’t have to.” She smiled back.

Alicia sat up in bed, stretched her arms above her head, and started the search for her clothes. She slid her panties back on and pulled the Black Sabbath shirt over her head. “You snooze, you lose!” She teased. “You are never getting this shirt back.” Ville groaned.

Alicia walked to the door and inched it open slightly… tiptoeing out of the room to get her walk of shame over, quickly. She was surprised to find the apartment completely empty. “Looks like we scared them away!” She called to Ville as she perused the leftover alcohol.

She returned to her naked lover with two cold cider cans. With click of two ring pulls and the metallic clink of their cans together, Alicia and Ville toasted the new found complexities of their relationship.

“Cheers… to new beginnings.” Smiled Alicia.

“And the best fuck of your life!” Grinned Ville, cheekily. It was a grin Alicia decided she wouldn't mind waking up to everyday from now on.

[starryredpandawrites]

“Born From the Same Ink” Ch. 17 Sneak Peek

Hairbrush? Check. Birth Certificate? Check. Social Security Card? Check. Nimble hands packed the items into a well-used backpack as their owner checked each of them off a well-rehearsed mental checklist. It wasn’t ideal but at least this way she would have all her essentials secured; there was no chance something would ‘suddenly’ disappear like the last time she mentioned moving out. Audrey picked up an old sketchbook, one of many lying in stacks at the foot of her bed. 

With the straps of her backpack slung securely over her shoulders, she retrieved her shoes and crept to her bedroom door, switching off the lights as she went. The tarnished metal doorknob stole heat from her hands as she slowly twisted it as far as it would go. Then, she nudged the door open, lifting it slightly so it wouldn’t catch on the doorframe. The hinges she oiled the day before gave no resistance as she peeked across the dark hallway to the other bedroom door, which was blessedly shut with no light leaking out from underneath it. A silent sigh of relief escaped her lips as she snuck out of her room for the last time. 

Breathing softly through her mouth, she traversed the hallway in near silence. Years of similar expeditions had taught her which floorboards were safe and vice versa. Each sock-muffled step was calculated, and she was grateful when she reached the living room and could place her feet near the furniture, where the settled floor was less likely to creak. 

She passed the spare room holding the poorly covered Ink Machine without a second glance. She’d lost interest in the dirty thing ages ago. 

Finally, she reached the kitchen, her freedom only a few feet away. She would have smiled if the lights didn’t suddenly flicker on, revealing the man waiting for her beside the counter. 

Rather than stand, he sat in his wheelchair, an increasingly common sight in the Drew household. A folder of miscellaneous documents lay open in his lap. The papers rustled as he meticulously examined them one by one. 

Internally kicking herself, Audrey hid her shoes behind her back and schooled her expression. She should have just used her window. Ruined clothes and a few scrapes from the brambles below would be much less painful than this conversation.

Masking her guilt with concern, the young woman greeted her creator father a little too casually. “Hey, Dad. What are you still doing up?”

Joey didn’t answer, opting instead to pick up another sheet of paper and hold it up to the dim light. Audrey knew the charade for what it was: she had his full attention. 

“Do you want help getting to bed?” she asked helpfully, as though she hadn’t already tucked him in hours ago. 

“I was looking for your Birth Certificate.” he replied nonchalantly as he thumbed through the folder of documents, ignoring her second question. After a moment of awkward silence, he raised a harsh eyebrow at Audrey. “Any idea where it scampered off to?”

Gonna start the next chapter off strong with a flashback, y'all. Hope you like trauma ;)

Fam, it's been 2 whole years since BATDR came out and I started writing this fic. I wanted to post this/the chapter on the anniversary but better late than never, right?

I'm gonna try to post the full update on Friday (November 29th) but it might get pushed Saturday (November 30th) due to the holiday.

Thanks for reading 😘 and an extra big thanks to the people who kept messaging me even though I haven't updated since July. I still haven't responded to every ask I've gotten (and I'm starting to doubt I will, a very good problem to have and one I never thought would happen to me lol) but I love reading every word. You guys (gender-neutral) are the best.

[spacebaby1]

I do have a prompt for you though, it's that Ace survives but has lasting injuries/malnutrition/infections from his imprisonment in impel down and couldn't actually fight when escaping. He hardcore blames himself and his 'weakness' for all the deaths at marineford, but even after everythings said and done he needs Major medical care and recovery that he doesn't think he deserves

I live this idea of Ace surviving 😔enjoy!!

Holding back Ace as he fought to free himself from your hold weakly, begging to be let to fight for his crew, "Captain, orders?" You screamed, catching Law attention as he was waiting with a stunned look staring down at the ongoing battle. Marco had managed to bring both Ace and Luffy on your ship for medical care since there was no chance that they would be able to fight with such injuries. Law snapped out of his thoughts, turning to find your white operating uniform covered in Ace's blood, "Can you handle the injuries?" Law said walking past you as Ace had finally lost his ability to fight you back. You nodded frantically before both you and Shachi took Ace to the other operating room before he bleed out.

The moment you both settled Ace on the bed, he groaned, trying to sit up, and you gently pushed him down, but he slapped your hand away, screaming in pain, "L-Let me f-fight I I can-"

"You're gonna bleed your heart out and die!" You snapped as Shachi injected with a medication to calm him down, and he was out within seconds before you started operating on him. "He's bleeding so much. We need blood." You told Shachi, and he nodded, rushing to the freezer. You took a shaky breath, keeping your focus on the operation following every step your captain Law had taught you. This wasn't the first time you saw Ace, you've met him in Alabasta before you met your crew. He didn't seem to remember you, and he was absolutely less panicked then. Placing a gentle hand on his forehead, you sighed, "Let me save you, please." He was captured and badly treated. He looked nothing like he did in Alabasta.

After seven long hours, both you and Shachi sat on the room floor, completely tired, but at least you managed to keep Ace's conditions in control; for now, he was breathing and alive. Law entered the room to find you sitting near the floor full of blooded clothes. Sachi spoke, "Don't mind us, we are fine, Captain." Law sighed and looked at you, and you looked at Law, "he lost a lot of blood. How's Luffy?"

"Alive, you did good. Take a re-"

"No, I want to stay with him for a bit, I mean to make sure nothing happens, is that okay?"

Law nodded, and Shachi followed him when he left the room while you sat on the chair, pulling it near the bed watching Ace.

The next day, you woke up early to check on Luffy, then Ace, since Law was a bit busy, so you decided to take some work off his hands and tend to Luffy before heading to check on Ace. You were checking his condition and the moment you felt his forehead, still unconscious he let out a painful groan making you immediately jump at his sudden reaction forgetting that your devil fruit powers are capable to pull out anyone's feelings when you touch them. You fell holding your heart at how much agony you felt almost knocking a few tools with you as you fell. After catching your breath, you stood up holding the bed and saw Ace's eyes twitching to open. He was fighting to wake up as he groaned in pain. Law had told you not to pressure your devil fruit powers since you were still new to them. But you knew that you can for sure transfer his pain in yourself; vice versa. Taking a shaky breath, you took your gloves out and placed your palm on his chest where you had stitched yesterday. You felt the shooting pain right in your heart, knocking blood out of your mouth as you completely fell on the ground with a thud that was heard by Law when he was walking by the room. He immediately rushed in to find you on the floor, coughing blood holding your chest with the other hand. "Y/n-ya!" He rushed to help you, and you just shook your head telling him it's fine as he held your head straight, making sure you didn't chock. "What are you doing? I told you not to use your devil fruit powers. You could've gotten yourself killed." You caught your breath and spoke, "I-I accidentally placed my hand on him and felt his pain. He's in so much pain, Captain." Law sighed, "that doesn't mean you need to take that pain away, Y/n-ya, please be selfish for once." You smiled weakly at your captain, "I'll be fine."

The next few days, you would check on Luffy as usual and then stay with Ace. It was just another morning, and you were up early, like every day on the deck, lost in your thoughts as you stared at the blue ocean when you heard the sound of things falling. You rushed to find Ace Barley sitting on the bed, trying to pull the machines off of himself but struggling.

"No, stop it-"

He pushed your hands off him causing you to stumble on the table beside the bed but you still returned to stop him from pulling the needle out, he tries to grab your hand on his with the other free hand, "l-let go of-of me. Let me g-go." He dug his nails in the back of your hand, scratching you till it bleed, but you didn't stop. Instead, you pushed his both hands and dropped him on the bed, caging him as he cried in hopelessness of not being able to sit back up, "Stop! Please! You're hurting yourself. You're still not recovered -"

"Everyone's gone because of me! LET ME DIE! WHY DID YOU SAVE ME?" He yelled at you, tears streaming down his bruised cheeks, "LET ME GO!" He headbutted you so hard that you fell on the floor, knocking your head on the table side. In his own rage, Ace didn't notice that he hurt you and you were bleeding now. Before he could get up, you stood up and grabbed him down again, "Stop! It's not your fault, stop." Ace shook his head eyes shut as he cried. "Everyone's dead. It's my fault. I want my brothers. I want them back, I can't lose Luffy, too!" He cried hysterically, kicking his legs. You held his face, making him look at you, "shhh, you didn't lose Luffy! H-he's fine, he's here, I promise." Your words made him blink at you before speaking, "Lu-luffy is here? Take me to him, I need to see my brother. Please, please -" he stopped when he saw the blood dripping down to your eyes. You didn't react at all. "I will take you to him, but you need to rest now -"

"I-i hur- you're bleeding-"

You shook your head, gently pushing him down and caressing his hair, "I'm fine, don't worry. Just rest. I'll take you to Luffy." Your words calmed him back to sleep as he closed his eyes, and you sighed, backing away to clean the blood off your face. Bepo had heard the commotion and came to check on you panicking, but you reassured him that it's nothing serious as he helped you clean up the mess Ace caused.

Later that night, you stayed by Ace's side, and he slept all night while you sat on the chair, dozing off every other minute. The next morning, Ace woke up feeling the oxygen mask on which made him breath on panic, causing you to flinch from your sleep and immediately caressed his head. "shhh, breath. Just breath. It's okay. In and out." The panic in his eyes disappeared as he calmed down, "I'll take it off for you. Can you keep breathing like this for me?" He nodded, and you watched his breathing evening on the monitor. "Good, you're doing good, just breath." He reached to grab your hand shutting his eyes as he breath, you didn't pull away not even when he squeezed your hand closer to cracking your bones, instead you held his hand caressing the back of his hand with your thumb. "L-Luffy, take me to see him, please." You hummed, "I would, but you can't move. Your stitches haven't healed yet. You'll bleed out and snap them." He shook his head, tears threatening to fill his eyes, "P-please, I need to see my little brother."

"He's resting, I promise you he's well taken care of, and you too need to rest and get better, so you won't worry Luffy, right?"

He shook his head, "I don't want him to see me, I'm weak and helpless. I let my cre-"

"It's not your fault, Ace. And it's absolutely nothing wrong with being weak at times, but you weren't weak. You saved Luffy's life as much as he tried to save you."

He shook his head, hiding his tears, "You should've let me die, I don't deserve to l-"

"You saved me in Alabasta. You didn't let me die." He looked at you confused, "I-I saved you? I can't remember anything." You shook your head, "you don't have to remember. Don't push yourself to remember. Now you need to rest, eat, and gain back your strength. Okay?" He nodded weakly at you. "Good, I'll get you something to eat, don't try to move. Please."

You sat on the chair after carefully helping him in sitting position and fixing the bed to make it more comfortable, "do you feel any pain here?" You placed a little pressure on his chest, and he shook his head. You noticed how his cheeks flushed at your hand resting on his chest, but he said nothing. "Here?" You moved your under his neck, and he shook his head again, "good, that's good. You need to eat and be strong again. Okay?" You fixed the spoonful of rice towards him but his eyes were fixated on your forehead where you hurt yourself when he pushed you, "I'll get you the same cartoon bandage if you eat all this rice." You joked but he felt bad for pushing you like that when you were just trying to help him then he noticed the scratch marks on your hand that was from him and he burst into tears unable to look at you. You placed the plate on the table, "Shh, it's okay. It will become easier. Maybe not today, but soon." He shook his head, "I'm sorry for hurting you, I need to apologise properly -"

You took his hands in yours and smiled, "it's okay, it's my job as a doctor to take care of you, and we doctors don't mind if we get hurt. Your anger and pain are valid. You were hurting, so I don't hold il feelings towards you. These cuts will heal, nothing but a scratch. You don't need to worry so much, you're more important than them. Now, you need to eat humm?" He nodded, sniffling the tears away.

The next few days, Ace kept asking you to take him to Luffy, but again, he wasn't able to fully walk. "I can try? I can try to walk. Please let me try." His stitches had slowly started to heal so you decided to let him try to walk, helping him sit on the bed you moved a bit further still close, "Okay, now try to walk towards me but slowly, tell me if it's hurts you anywhere?" He nodded before placing his feet on the ground. Taking shaky steps, he yelped before sitting back, and you rushed, and You helped him, "it's okay, it's okay. I got you." You carefully wrapped your hands around his waist, "Okay, hold on to me and try to move your feet, one by one. Don't worry, I got you." He nodded as he struggled to move at first but took small steps as you moved backwards he had his arms wrapped over your shoulder for support. You stood in the middle of the room, "Are you okay? Anything hurts?" He shook his head. "Can I walk more? Can you take me to Luffy now?" You nodded before coming to his side, "Don't let go, small steps, okay?" He happily nodded before you two finally made it to where Luffy was. Opening the door, you saw your captain trying to feed Luffy the medication, but Luffy kept moving away and complaining that he didn't need it and it's not tasty. You saw Ace's face light up when he saw his brother, but you held him before he ran and fell. "LUFFY!"

"ACE!"

You helped him walk to Luffy's bedside and wrap himself in his little brothers arms the moment he sat on the bed. You watched both brothers cry in each others arms, but at least they had each other now.

[sporadicthingcollection]

Poise Counterpoise (Tech x F!Reader)

Summary: Tech's first date with you has him shaking in his boots. Sequel to Point Counterpoint.

Pairing: Tech x F!Reader.

Rating: 🌶 Explicit 🌶

Word Count: ~5.8k.

Warnings: Mention of domestic violence, mild violence, PiV sex.

"Got no time," is what you're known to say I'll make you wish there was forty-eight hours to each day Your problem is you ain't been loved like you should What I got to give will sure 'nough do you good...

---

Tech would have been on time to meet you. And then Cid had a "quick" mission for them that wasn't so quick and Echo tripped an alarm.

And then they get back and Hunter lets slip that Tech has a date, and Cid sneers in disbelief.

"And you're going in that?" She throws a handful of credits at him. “Here’s what you’re gonna do, Goggles: on the corner of Pinnacle and Fifty-Seventh is a department store. You’re gonna go in and buy a pair of slacks with a crease down the front. Then you’re gonna buy a nice shirt. One with buttons and a collar. Then you’re gonna put them on and then you’re gonna pick her up. Got it?”

The shirt is itchy. The pants are stiff. But they’re civvies and color coordinated and, apparently, that’s what matters. He finds some comfort in his boots and the belt around his waist, but it's not much.

His stomach is full of fuzz as he climbs the stairs to your apartment, step by agonizing step. As he raises his hand to press the buzzer, his limbic system finally hits its tipping point and his joints seize up.

He’s making a mistake, the little voice of self-doubt mutters.

It’s hard to ignore that voice. It’s instinct. It’s experience. It saved his life a thousand times before as a soldier of the Republic and it will a thousand times again as a soldier of fortune.

But this is not the battlefield. And this isn’t mercenary work. This is a man taking a woman out on a date -- vice versa, actually. You're the one with the steady job. All the money he makes goes to ship repairs and rations.

Another reason to not like him, the voice says. No money, no prospects, no normal life. Should’ve added that to the list. Maybe you would have listened to reason then.

...no, you wouldn’t have. You knew what you wanted and you knew what he needed. To be told to shut up and kiss you. You’re a very self-assured woman. He likes that about you.

And realistically, what’s the worst that could happen? You’ve been friends for weeks. You’ve sat through him prattling on about things countless times. Now there’s just an added physical element. Shouldn’t be hard to account for.

A snatch of music reaches his ears, coming from an open window. It’s a cheerful, upbeat tune he’s heard on the radios around town, about going dancing with a partner.

He can see it clearly in his mind’s eye, you mouthing the words and dancing around the ‘fresher as you fix your hair and put on your makeup. It sounds like something you would do.

It makes his heart flip, and the sudden burst is just enough for him to override the lock on his joints and ring the buzzer.

After a moment, the door opens, and he’s greeted with a strange sight.

He’s met your little brother before. Being around Omega’s age, Phthalo lives with your parents, but he often comes by your apartment to ‘hang,’ as he puts it. Probably something to do with you having a faster holonet connection.

Right now, he’s clad in a fluffy bathrobe and chewing on a brightly-colored plastic pipe. He regards Tech with narrowed eyes. “Hello, Mr. Tech,” he says in a deep voice.

Odd, but probably not a threat. “Phthalo,” he says with a nod. “Is your sister here?”

“She might be.” His eyes narrow even more. “And what exactly are your intentions with her, young man?”

He knows not to take Phthalo too seriously. Where Omega is an outlier in terms of maturity for her age, Phthalo is at the very top of the bell curve. "We are getting dinner," he says, "though I'm not sure where. She knows the city better than I do."

A string of soap bubbles emerges from the bowl of the pipe as Phthalo blows on it. "I see, I see. And then, no doubt, followed by a trip..." He yanks the pipe from his mouth and jabs it at him. "...to Lovers' Lane?!"

Tech is now confused. He adjusts his goggles. "I... am not sure. Perhaps. Whatever she should desire. I am new to this and am following her lead."

The suspicious look melts away, replaced by surprise. His voice jumps back up to its usual pubescent timbre. "You've never been on a date?" Tech shakes his head, and Phthalo blinks. "Dang, really? Like, never ever?"

He shakes his head again. "As a member of a commando unit, I was afforded neither time nor opportunity to pursue interpersonal activities."

Phthalo whistles. “Bummer.” He pauses, then looks Tech up and down. “Gonna keep it a hundred with you: you look like an egghead.”

Tech blinks. Phthalo often uses slang that is lost on him and this is no different. “Am I correct in assuming that is a bad thing?”

“I mean, I guess, but, like, that’s her type.” He leans against the doorjamb. “Last three guys she dated were all eggheads. 'Cept Dyer. He was more of a pointy egg 'cause of the horns...”

Before Tech can even respond to that, he’s distracted by a shout.

"Phthalo!" you bark.

You skid out of the 'fresher and into view, dressed in the most beautiful blouse he's ever seen. Flowing, sunset-colored fabrics cascade down your torso, and you wear a simple pair of blue jeans that hug your hips impeccably. Your sandals have lifts, as seems to be the current style, and your painted toes peek out.

You look absolutely stunning. It's a shame you're so mad.

"What the hell are you doing?!" You pause, then squint at him. "And why are you wearing my robe?!"

Phthalo is unbothered. He lowers his voice again and blows on the pipe. "Telling this young man what I expect of him. You're a respectable young lady, and I won’t have him ruining the good name of this family.”

You spit something in your native tongue, and he replies in turn. Tech is unfamiliar with the language, but it's lilty and melodic punctuated with little pops and clicks. He's been debating purchasing a translation module, but is unsure if that would come off as an encroachment of your privacy.

You switch back into Basic. "Don't you have homework or something to be doing?"

"Joke's on you, sister. It's the weekend."

You give him a dry look as you step outside. "Just be home by dark so Mom doesn’t yell at me. And take my robe off."

“Yes ma’am.” He strikes a salute. His form is poor, but Tech keeps that to himself. "Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do," he says, “but if you do, name it--”

You close the door on him with a roll of your eyes. Finally, you turn your attention to Tech. "I am so sorry."

You pause as you see him, looking him up and down -- your gaze in particular seems to linger on his biceps. Your eyes widen slightly, and you suck in a subtle breath.

"Well, don’t you clean up nice," you say, a smile gracing your lips.

He’s suddenly aware of the heat in his cheeks. His tongue feels fat and heavy. “You too,” he says. “Er, that’s not to say that you do not always dress well. I just-- erm--”

You giggle, and it’s the most wonderful sound he’s ever heard. “C’mon, let’s bounce.”

You shoulder your purse and, before he realizes it, you’ve wrapped your arm around his and slipped your fingers into his hand. Your body presses closely to his, and he can feel every warm, soft curve from your shoulders to your hips.

Then you lay your other hand on his arm. You pause, then give a squeeze. “Oh,” you say, eyes widening.

Oddly, it’s his respiratory system that seizes up this time. His breath catches in his throat and he makes the slightest hrph noise.

He's frozen there a moment, staring at you as you stare at him. You have the most beautiful eyes. A whole load of butterflies flap around in his gut, crashing into each other and his abdominal walls. He really wishes they’d go away.

You’re the first to snap out of it, though you still seem quite stricken. Your words come out in a squeaky tumble. “Nice guns you got here.”

He’s red as a Togruta right now. He can feel it. He says the first thing that comes to mind. “Part of the genetic manipulation performed on clones is reducing the amount of visceral and subcutaneous fat necessary for metabolic processes,” he says.

The wonder in your eyes vanishes, replaced by the familiar curiosity he’s used to seeing. “Huh. So where do you store all your energy?”

Familiar territory. He remembers how to move his legs. “I am unsure of the specifics, but it has to do with mitochondria...”

---

As a clone, Tech has low standards for food. He’s perfectly content to eat ration packs three meals a day, and the food in the Tipoca City mess was only a few steps above that in quality. He’s also used to eating only enough to give him a few hours’ strength -- sometimes having to make do with even less.

So when the waiter places a sandwich half as big as his head in front of him, he’s more than a little cowed.

Fortunately, you seem to find his surprise charming. “Never had a bantha burger before?”

He lifts the topmost bun and examines the contents. Vividly-colored sauces, at least three kinds of fresh vegetables, and a thick patty of bantha beef, seared and dripping with juices.

His stomach growls like a territorial nexu. Very rarely does it do that.

“...Excuse me if I make a mess,” he says.

“Likewise,” you say, picking up your own sandwich. “I always need a pile of napkins when I come here.”

The sandwich crunches and squelches as you bite into it. Juice runs down your chin, and your lips glisten with fat. Setting it back down, you take a napkin and swipe it along your mouth. It’s a wonder how that lipstick is staying on.

You let out a contented hum as you swallow. “Stars, I’ve been craving one of these all week,” you say.

He takes a deep breath. Carefully, he picks the sandwich up and takes a bite.

Soft bread. Crispy greens. Tangy sauce. Sour pickles. Fatty, juicy meat. It overwhelms his palate. As he chews, it all blends together into a melodious symphony of texture and flavor.

He swallows and has to take a moment to compose himself. He notices you staring, brows raised and your lips pursed.

“Told you it was good,” you say.

His cheeks burn. He swipes a napkin across his mouth. “I am very unused to this type of meal,” he says. “My apologies.”

“I refuse to accept them,” you say. You slide over the little paper tray of unsnips, sliced into matchsticks and fried golden brown, and a little cup of sauce. “Try this next. Dip it in the pink stuff.”

He does so. It’s fatty and starchy and salty and the sauce is the same tangy stuff as what was in the sandwich. He’s picked up a second one before he’s even conscious of it.

You giggle as you pick one up for yourself. “I like dunking mine in my milkshake,” you say as you dip it into your drink. “The milk cuts the... the greasy feeling a bit.”

“Unctuous,” he says. You raise a brow. “The technical term for something being oily.”

You glance at the unsnip, then purse your lips and nod your head. “It cuts the unctuous feeling,” you say with a wiggle of your head.

His stomach flips. His heart beats faster. Say something. Anything. “Fat is one of the flavors a Humanoid tongue can detect, in addition to the more well-known sweet and salty.”

You take an unsnip and dip it into your teaberry milkshake, then place it in your mouth. “It’s sweet, salty, sour, bitter, and savory, right?”

“Correct. And you did not include spice, which is also correct.”

You smile and wave your hand. “I paid attention in bio,” you say. “It’s pain receptors, not taste buds.”

He nods. “Mint produces a similar effect, albeit in the opposite direction.”

“Now that I didn’t know.” You rest your hand on your chin and smile at him. “Tell me more, professor.”

His heart jumps into his throat and he almost chokes on the unsnip he was swallowing. He’s unused to such curiosity being directed at him. And especially not by such a pretty woman.

It feels fantastic.

His mind races. He could tell you more about taste -- the stinger of a Yalbec queen tastes like browned sage butter, allegedly. Or how bitterness is a common characteristic of compounds poisonous to Humanoids, hence why it’s not a popular flavor -- and why Humanoids don’t typically find Toydarian cuisine appetizing. Or maybe you’d like to hear about the anesthetic qualities of capsaicin, something Wrecker found out the hard way when he accidentally got a mouthful of bacta.

You’d likely find that amusing. He reaches up to adjust his goggles...

...and smears grease all over the lens. Damn.

You wince. "Oops. Need a napkin?"

He sighs, inwardly cursing himself. Idiot. "Please," he says. He pulls them from his head, smearing everything around.

You hand him a napkin and he gets to scrubbing. He has to hold them close to his face to see his progress. It only really seems to smear things around, but it slowly begins to improve.

"Astigmatism?" you ask. "Or just blind as an ashbat?"

"One begets the other." He huffs. "Would you hand me another napkin?"

"I'll go grab some more," you say, standing up. But before you depart, you lean down to peer at him. "Huh."

He raises a brow at you. "What?"

"Nothing, just..." You pause. "Not used to seeing you without them."

"Do they affect my appearance that much?" he asks.

You shrug. "I mean, you look good either way," you say as you turn away.

Heat rises in his cheeks. He looks up to respond, but you’re already walking away. 

He can barely see, but what he can see, he likes. You’re on the softer side and carry most of your weight in your hips, giving them a gentle plumpness. He’s noticed it before, but perhaps the blue jeans accentuate your figure just so.

Something... base pools in his groin. He wants to grab it and touch it and squeeze it. Your thighs, too. Oh, and your breasts...

He swallows and shakes his head. Dangerous thoughts. He returns his attention to his goggles.

As he looks up, he’s met with a concerning sight.

A burly figure is following you back to the booth. He can't see your face, but your crossed arms and stiff posture betray your agitation. You don’t look scared, but you grow tenser with each word he says.

“...I still got some of your modeling stuff,” the man says as you slide into your seat. “I could drop it off sometime.”

“Keep it,” you say tersely. You place the napkins on the table and Tech takes one.

He ignores Tech. “You spent so much on that plastoid, though.” He goes to touch one of your braids, but you push his hand away. “Be a shame for it to go to waste.”

“I’m not telling you where I live,” you snap. You turn to face him, brows furrowed into a glare. “Now put an egg in your shoe and beat it. I'm on a date.”

The man's body language shifts. He straightens up, his jaw setting. His shoulders tense as he turns to Tech.

Tech places his goggles back on his head and everything becomes clear. You scowl and roll your eyes as the man -- a Zabrak, it seems -- looks Tech up and down with a raised brow.

Finally, he sneers. “You got terrible taste in men,” he says to you.

“Yeah, well, I dated you, so I already knew that,” you say curtly. You punctuate the insult with a sip of your milkshake.

So this is that ex partner of yours Phthalo mentioned. Dyer, he recalls. Wonderful.

Dyer tenses again. He balls his fist. “Seriously, you dump me because you want someone more stylish, and then turn around and take this guy out?"

You hit the table with your fist and jump to your feet, jamming your finger into Dyer’s chest. "I dumped you because you slapped me for being 'mouthy,'" you spit.

Tech isn't prone to strong emotions, but the disgust rising in his throat is impossible to ignore.

"An expected response from someone of his personality," he says. "Good idea to terminate the relationship."

Dyer snaps his head back towards him. "'Scuse me?"

He adjusts his goggles as he stands. "Based on your proclivity to violence and attempt to insult me, I can only conclude that you are insecure in your masculinity."

Dyer gives him a stare that is equally bemused and icy. "...what?"

"Your behavior is typical for an insecure male. Perhaps you’re compensating for something.”

You make a snrrk noise and clap your hand over your mouth in an attempt to not laugh. The fact you’re not scared brings him some relief.

Dyer doesn’t say a word, rage simmering behind his eyes. Without breaking eye contact, he snatches your milkshake from your hand, removes the cover, and splashes it onto Tech’s shirt.

And now, along with disgust, there’s ire rising in his throat. Sour, petty ire.

“What the hell?!” you shriek. You grab his arm and, this time, you don’t pause to appreciate the musculature. “C’mon, we don’t have to take this--”

He waves you off. “I appreciate it, but I can handle myself.” He crosses his arms. “He is not a threat to me.”

Dyer scoffs. He steps closer to Tech, enough that their chests touch. “You wanna make a bet on that?”

Tech takes a step back. Dyer follows. “If you’re looking for a fight, look elsewhere. I have no desire to injure you.”

With his thumb, Dyer cracks his knuckles. “Yeah, but I do.”

He takes another step. Again, Dyer follows. “As I stated previously, you are clearly attempting to compensate for something. An undersized phallus, perhaps.”

A number of things happen at once. Dyer swings. Tech ducks to the side. Grabbing his arm, he uses the other man’s momentum to swing him to the side, sending him careening into an occupied table. It collapses beneath him, and a shower of sandwiches and milkshakes rain upon his head.

Satisfied, he turns his attention back to you. “My apologies for that.”

“Meh. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes,” you say with a wave of your hand. You look at the waiter who has just emerged from the kitchen. “Can we get a doggie bag over here?”

---

Showers are nice. Hot showers are even better. Private hot showers in a crystal clean ‘fresher with Nubian Sunrise-scented soaps and fluffy purple towels are a luxury that Tech has never experienced.

He wishes he hadn’t. Nothing will ever be as good as this.

You'd insisted that he return with you to your apartment so you could wash his clothes and get him clean. Dyer's your ex and you feel the need to take some responsibility.

“My building’s got a laundry room anyways, so it’s no big deal,” you’d said. “So hop in the shower before you get sticky. Toss your clothes out the door and I’ll grab ‘em.”

He goes as quickly as he can, but even then he worries that he’s taken too long. He sees no change of clothes, so he settles for wrapping the towel around his waist.

He calls your name as he exits the ‘fresher, but you’re nowhere to be seen. Not on your bed, nor on your sofa, nor at your drafting table. You live in a studio, so it’s not like there’s anywhere else you could be hiding.

Time for reconnaissance. Or, as Echo would call it, incessant snooping.

He’s subtle about it. He only looks closely at things that aren’t already hidden, and he doesn’t move anything around in any drawers or cabinets.

He gleans a few insights about you. A holopic on your desk depicts you in a graduation cap, standing between a pair of older men and a pair of older women, all beaming. Your parents and grandparents, most likely. Phthalo likely took the picture, given his absence.

You have an impressive collection of sound slugs of all varieties. Quenk jazz, glimmik, even a compilation of Mon Calamari ballet suites. But most of them are knuff records -- the sleeve of the slug currently in your player is Too Much Is Never E’knuffadelic by a group called, fittingly, Knuffadelic.

But most intriguing are the little model ships everywhere.  There’s a Venator sitting on top of your refrigerator and a little corvette on top of your stereo, amongst other ships and places. On your caf table even appears to be a very familiar Omicron-class attack shuttle, complete with modifications. The craftsmanship is careful and particular, and the only thing it needs is a coat of paint.

He’s making a note to himself to check the type of paint they used on the Marauder when the door opens. He hears the clop of your sandals before he sees you. “Sorry that took so long,” you shout. “The washing machine ate my creds, so I had to call the super to get it fixed.”

You go quiet, and he looks up at you. Your eyes are huge and your mouth dropped open. Your gaze wanders all over his body. Of particular interest seems to be, once again, his arms.

“Welcome back,” he says simply. He points to the mini Marauder. “Did you make this?”

“I-- gyeh-- yes,” you say without taking your eyes off of his arms.

"The craftsmanship is remarkable. I look forward to seeing it finished." He pauses. "I must say, your preoccupation with my biceps is fascinating.”

You sputter a bit before finding your words. "You're just-- You’ve always got all that armor on and--” You take a deep breath. “I had no idea you were so... toned."

Huh. Interesting. He's always considered himself leaner than his brothers, but that may just be the fact that everyone looks small next to Wrecker. He gives his arm a bend, watching the muscle flex. "I suppose I am."

Your eyes continue sweeping him. "...You got nice shoulders, too. And pecs. And abs. You're just..." Your gaze creeps back up to meet his own. “Can I... touch you?”

He's not sure what starts the smolder in his belly. It might be the fire in your eyes, or your teeth biting your lip, or the way you run the pad of your thumb along your fingernails.

But he likes it. He likes it a lot.

“You may,” he says quietly.

Your breath catches. He worries you might sputter again, but you don’t. Stepping close, you lay your palms on his collarbone. Your hands are warm and soft, and the way you slide your fingertips along his skin makes him shiver.

The smolder catches fire, filling his chest with smoke and his groin with heat. He fights to keep his breathing even and, to keep his cock from springing upwards, grips the towel around his waist tightly.

You step closer, your breasts just barely touching his chest, as you move your touch down to his pectorals. You linger on the scars there, pale and puckered. He remembers every one: shrapnel from a grenade on Ando. A sniper round meant for Hunter on Yephus. Electric shock from a zap skate on Mon Cala.

Unfortunately, you stop on the one he’s actually embarrassed by. He cuts you off before you can ask the question. “Accidentally stabbed myself during a training exercise,” he says. “Not my finest moment.”

You giggle, scrunching your eyes into little half-moons. “And here I was starting to think that you were perfect.”

His cock twitches. Hard. A breathy grunt escapes him as it pokes your thighs.

Based on the way your brows rise, you noticed. Your cheeks darken as you glance down, chest falling and rising faster than before.

You trail your fingers downwards, tracing the valley between his abdominal muscles. Thank the Maker he's not ticklish.

You stop at the edge of the towel. Your gaze flickers up to his, an unspoken question on your lips.

He's used to being naked in front of other people. But the prospect of suddenly being exposed to you gives him pause. The self doubt starts up again. What if you don't like it? What if he doesn't measure up? What if--?

He releases the towel before he can talk himself out of it.

He's not fully hard. But he's getting there. Freed from its constraint, his cock bobs and twitches. The smooth head shines in the light.

You suck in a breath. Your tongue darts out to lick your lips. He knows what you're feeling, but a combination of ego and insecurity makes him ask.

"Am I... adequate?" he rasps.

Your answer comes in the form of grabbing his cock at the base and pumping. He covers his mouth with his hand in an attempt to stifle a groan. He fails.

You freeze and release him. "I'm sorry," you say quickly. "I'll stop."

He speaks with a voice that isn't his, hoarse and husky and full of desperation. "Don't. Please."

You stare at him, breathing heavily. "What do you want me to do?" you whisper.

He swallows. "Whatever you like."

It's like flipping a switch. Your unease evaporates and you push him backwards until he hits your sofa. His hands go to your waist as you straddle him, your mouth pressing against his.

This kiss isn’t like the first one he'd shared with you. That one was innocent and misty as a Nabooian spring morning. But this one... This one is the height of a rainy summer noontime. Hot. Steamy. Desperate.

His tongue dances with yours, first this way and then that. You lay your hands on his jaw as you give his lips a nip. Grinding into his lap, you press your plush pelvis against his hard cock.

“I want you,” you whisper. “I really, really want you.”

Sweet stars, he wants you to. He tries to tell you as much, but all that comes out is a tight groan.

You grab the hem of your blouse, yanking it up over your head. You’re not particularly buxom, but your breasts are soft and round as they fill your brassiere, and they jiggle as you toss the blouse to the floor.

Every movement sends a slight ripple through them. Hypnotized, he reaches up to touch them. They fill his hands wonderfully, and they give when he squeezes.

You let out a sweet coo as he kneads them. “Like what you see?” you breathe. He nods, too dumbstruck to speak. “Wanna see the rest?”

No need to ask twice. He reaches behind you to unlatch the hooks and the fabric falls away, revealing two dark areolas with stiffened peaks.

As if his cock couldn’t get any harder. One could cut ur-diamonds with it now.

Wrapping his arms around you, he bucks up into you with a groan. He’s barely able to resist the urge to shove his face between your breasts. He can’t imagine his goggles would feel good pressing into you like that.

...and then you grab the back of his head and shove him in there anyways.

Warm. Soft. Smells nice. Even better than he expected. His cock leaks against you, dampening your pants.

He tries to apologize, but you put a finger to his lips before you shimmy your blue jeans off. He’s expecting to see underwear, but you either aren’t wearing any or managed to get them off with your pants. He doesn’t know and doesn’t care to know because right now he’s looking at your pussy.

He knows what humanoid female anatomy looks like. But somehow the real thing is even better than the textbooks, the pictures, the holos he watches when no one else is around.

You keep yourself untrimmed and unruly, but the outline of your slit is visible. You reach down to part your lower lips and he catches a glimpse of the flushed flesh between.

He wastes no time. He holds his cock steady while you lower yourself onto it.

Tech has never had sex. He's not embarrassed by it. It is what it is. There was no time or opportunity for interpersonal relationships, and he's not one for a fling.

He assumed it was just a step up from masturbating. Stimulation leading to orgasm. 

He was wrong. It's a feast for the senses.

Your pussy is hot and wet, making obscene noises as you bounce up and down. With a flex of your muscles, you clench him tight, enveloping his cock in smooth, warm heat. 

"Holy Maker, finally," you moan.

The sheer implication of that phrase makes him groan. He's unused to being desired. Grabbing your soft hips, he guides you up and down his cock.

Bracing one hand against the back of the sofa, you dip the other between your curls. You rub as he thrusts, making noises like a tooka.

In out, up and down. The cool air as you rise and the wet heat as you fall. The bounce of your breasts and the roll of your hips.

He never wants to leave this moment. Buried deep inside of you, your eyes closed in bliss and your lips pursed in pleasure.

Head falling back, he moans your name, long and loud. You return the compliment, pressing your mouth to his ear and drawing one syllable into two.

His chest heats up. His cock tightens. He thinks he might faint. “G-Gonna...”

You pull away to rest your forehead on his, looking into his eyes. Your pupils reduce your irises to thin rings. “Hold on,” you huff. “Almost...”

He bites the inside of his cheek until he feels your pussy pulse. You let out a whine and he can't hold it anymore. He whimpers your name, sounding absolutely pathetic.

“Please,” he rasps.

You grab him by the hair and jerk his head away to kiss him. The panting has left your mouth cool and dry, and the sudden contrast is enough to send him toppling over the edge.

He comes with a sputtering groan, his hips bucking upwards. Sparks flash behind his eyes and he shoves his face in the junction of your neck and shoulder. You smell like musk and fresh sweat.

Heaven, in other words.

The moment passes all too quickly. The adrenalin fades and his body goes limp. He slumps backwards, panting.

You collapse to the side, sliding off of his cock with a wet shlick. You lift his arm and drape it over you, resting your head on his shoulder.

He lays his head against yours, his mind pleasantly fuzzy. Thoughts drift in and out -- mostly of you. He wonders if you enjoyed it.

He understands now why it's called an afterglow.

---

Once his clothes are clean, you accompany him back to the Marauder. Wrecker appears to be teaching Omega something ship-related, as she is sitting atop his shoulders to examine a fusebox. Hunter and Echo look on, mildly concerned but not enough to interfere.

Hunter turns as soon as your footsteps start echoing on the walls. He breaks into a grin. "Lovebirds are here," he calls.

Omega gasps and jumps from Wrecker's shoulders, landing in a way that had to have hurt her ankles. She speeds up to you nonetheless.

"How'd it go?" she asks. "Where'd you go? What'd you do? How--?"

You return the smile. "It was great," you say. You lay your head against his arm. "We got food and then he beat a guy up for me."

Tech scoffs. "I did not. He ran at me and I used his momentum against him."

You shrug. "Regardless, it was appreciated," you say. "I have work in the morning, so I gotta get going."

Omega's face falls. "Will you be around tomorrow?"

He adjusts his goggles. "That depends on if Cid has any tasks for us--"

Wrecker cuts in. "'Course she can come 'round," he says firmly. "It's not like it always takes all day."

Tech shoots him a look. "No, but accounting for hyperspace time dilation, we often return at odd hours."

You wave your hand. "I'll make time. Just give me a comm when you're free." you say. You take his arm and pull him down, placing a light kiss on his cheek.

It catches him by surprise, and he lets out a slight gasp. He sincerely hopes no one else heard it.

Against his cheek, you murmur something in your native tongue before pulling away. You ruffle Omega's hair and wave to his brothers before departing.

As he watches you walk away, an unfamiliar feeling sets in. It fills his head and pushes against his eyes, making his cheeks warm. It's not sorrow. He has no desire to cry, but... He wishes you could stay a bit longer. Play some of that knuff music and talk about starships while you 'hang out,' as Phthalo would put it.

You round the corner out of sight and he misses you already. Tomorrow can't come soon enough.

Inhaling deeply, he turns away to find everyone looking at him. Hunter with a smirk, Echo with a slight smile, Wrecker with a broad grin, and Omega beaming so wide that her eyes are nearly closed.

Tech glances between all of them. "Is something amusing?"

Echo shakes his head. "Didn't think it was possible for you to look cute." 

Wrecker punches Tech's shoulder and, as per usual, nearly knocks him over. "Lucky you, gettin' a girl so pretty."

"So what was it like?" Omega asks. "Where'd you go? Tell me everything!"

Hunter cuts in. "Hey, let him get settled. He's had a big day. Fix up that fusebox and then ask questions."

Wrecker and Omega try to protest, but one look from Hunter and they slumps. They slink away, back to their task.

Once they're out of earshot, Hunter sidles up to him. "Hop in the shower after you get on board," he murmurs. Tech raises a brow at him, wondering if he can smell your sweat on him. "You smell like shampoo and it's giving me a headache."

Tech blinks in relief. "Of course. My apologies."

He turns away, only for Hunter to speak up again. "Congratulations on getting laid, too."

Tech's cheeks burn.

---

Thank you for reading! Special thanks to my bf for proofreading.

⬅⬅⬅ | "Filled With Things to Say" Masterpost | To the Mastahpost | Tip Jar | ➡➡➡

[thelargefrye]

the last of us for the fake title fic!

THE LAST OF US

pairing : ateez x f!reader x f!oc genre : thriller, cult, lovecraftian horror warnings : language, manipulation, death / murder, description of murder, blood / body gore, mentions of human sacrifice, mentions of sexual content (but nothing happens in this drabble!!)

sena thought for about three seconds before she realized she had to run. so she took off as fast as she could without looking back.

if she didn’t stop then she could make it. if she didn’t stop then she cou—

she was suddenly yanked back by her hair, a scream erupting from her throat as she was thrown to the ground.

“shut up! you’ll wake everyone up!” your voice comes out as a sharp whisper as you cover her mouth.

oh god… you were probably the last one sena wanted to be caught by. literally any of the other executives would have been better but you.

“come on, get the fuck up,” you say pulling her up harshly and dragging her through the compound until you both reach a small building that was probably furthest away from the apartments.

sena had to brace herself as you threw her into the small storage building and she felt a sense of dread begin to overcome her. this was it, you were going to kill her for trying to escape, she just knew it.

“well? are you going to tell me what you were doing out of your apartment in the middle of the night?” your voice is sickly calm, as if you were her parent scolding her for sneaking out.

your one eye glared down at her as you waited for an answer. “i-i was just going for a jog, i couldn’t sleep and was trying to get my energy out,” sena lies and she thinks for a moment that you actually believed her.

but then you laugh. it’s a maniacal laugh that makes her blood run cold and she knows that you are either going to kill her or go tell hongjoong.

“listen you stupid fuck,” you say bending down to her level. you grab her hair in a vice grip so she has to look into your eye. “if you’re going to lie make it a good one and second i’m gonna have you trying to escape and hongjoong on high alert when i’ve been fucking planning it for years. don’t think you can just escape by running. hongjoong will find you, everyone here belongs to him whether you want him to or not.”

your words shocked sena, you’ve been trying to escape… for years now? you, one of the executives here, have been trying to escape.

“let me… let me in on your plan, i can help you,” sena says finding an ounce of courage.

you let out a half hearted laugh, as if she was sad child that said something, “you really think i’ll let you help me after this stupid ass stunt. i should kill you for this.”

“if you don’t let me join, i’ll tell hongjoong you’re planning to escape,” sena is desperate and if that means blackmailing you then so be it.

however, you don’t fall for her threat, and the grip on her hair tightens, “you really are a stupid bitch, aren’t you. just because hongjoong let you suck his dick once doesn’t mean he’ll believe you over me. i’ve been getting on his good side and doing everything for him for years. his trust in you is nothing compared to what it is for me.”

“then i’ll tell san!” sena is desperate and she’s sure you can tell. she hates to use san like this, but she needs to escape this place.

“you even open your mouth to him and i’ll fucking kill you where you stand,” you hiss out. “now this is what you’re going to do, you’re going to walk back to your apartment, go to bed, and when you wake up in the morning you are going to forget that you tried to escape and that this conversation even happened. do you understand?”

“y-yes, ma’am,” sena whimpers defeatedly and you finally let her go. sena knows that if she doesn’t listen to you, then you will kill her without hesitation. she’s grateful that you didn’t kill when you found her, but now she realizes she’ll have to be more careful in the future.

send a fake title and i’ll show what kind of fic i would write for it

[thatfinewine]

It took a moment before a look of realization trickled down over Rick’s face, followed quickly by a sudden rush of horror. His eyes widened and his mouth parted but no words came out.

As his arm tensed to slam the door, a booted foot planted itself in the way and stopped it with little effort. Rick’s other arm swung, hand aiming for the panic button next to the doorframe, encased in glass to keep Jerry from accidentally pressing it — as if glass had ever stopped Jerry before — but the newcomer’s hand shot out into his way and knocked him off course. Prime, looking exactly the same as the last day Rick had seen him, leaned forward through the doorway and let himself in, forcing Rick back one step, then two. His presence made him feel so much taller than he already was, like he’d grown half a foot since his absence, and fear that Rick hadn’t known in quite a long while gripped his heart like an ice-cold, metal vice.

The sound of glass shattering was Rick’s only warning before his perfectly crafted metal exoskeleton enclosed the house, locking them all inside with the intruder that the damn thing was built to keep out. Prime let his fist fall away from the panic button back to his side, and he took another two steps in, cowing Rick back even farther. He shut the door behind him with a dramatic slowness that looked fitting of a Hollywood set.

Everything happened in less than five seconds, from the moment Rick’s hand had touched the doorknob to now, but it felt damn near like ten agonizing minutes.

“C-137,” he said with a small, lopsided grin. His tone was casual but it had an underlying thread of tension that only otherwise showed through in his eyes. “It’s been a while.”

Rick had always fantasized that if they’d get another chance to meet face to face, that he’d be quick-thinking and ready, smart-mouthed and slick as he drew his weapon and incapacitated the other man.

Turned out thirty years of playing out scenes in your head just didn’t actually count for practice. Rick’s tongue felt glued to the floor of his mouth, and his head was pathetically empty of a single word to say, rehearsed or candid. It was like he’d forgotten every language he’d ever learned, like he’d never attempted to speak aloud before in his goddamn life.

“Rick?!” Came Morty’s voice, rightfully worried, as he rushed to the entryway. “Rick, who— wh-who was at the door? Why’d the se-security system—”

Rick watched as Prime’s eyes broke contact with his own and glanced just past his ear, and he knew, he just knew, that they were locking with Morty’s.

“—engage…” Morty’s words fell flat, no longer a question.

Just like the day he’d lost them, Rick felt like time had just… stopped. Like he was trapped in a hellish freeze-frame, tortured with being fully conscious the entire time but unable to move a finger on his own.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - ✂

idk I started writing an AU and I just really like dramatic tension, lmao eventually Prime and C-137 were gonna smooch. = 3=

been kinda MIA on here, oops

blame any and all prickcest on @potetosaradas, my eyes have been opened and can never be closed again

[thatweeboverthereisthirsty]

He did what to you?

Commission: Unknown student from dorm threatens fem!s/o with nude photos, vice dorm leader finds s/o crying, dorm leader finds vice dorm leader and s/o, hurt/comfort, fluff (@reaperfeels)

(A/N: this took me so long for so many reasons and I am so appreciative to my new friend @reaperfeels for their patience. Also please excuse the writing style change I decided to put 100% effort into the last few since it was so late)

Warnings: non-consensual photography, pornographic photography, digital bullying, mild sexual harassment (mentioned), violence (mentioned), minor possessive behavior (it's a healthy level I think), hurt/comfort, fluff, fem!reader

Characters: Riddle Rosehearts, Leona Kingscholar, Azul Ashengrotto, Kalim Al Asim, Vil Schoenheit, Idia Shroud, Malleus Draconia

“Shh it’s ok. You’re gonna be alright. Riddle will never let that happen.” Trey spoke softly as you sobbed into his chest.

Normally you would be more aware of others' personal space but once the vice dorm leader had asked you if you were ok, all of the emotional strain came pouring out. He let you cling to him as you cried and patted your upper back comfortingly.

“I will never let what happen?”

You startled and turned to see your boyfriend, Riddle Rosehearts, standing in the door with a carefully composed expression. Even with the mask he put on for the moment, the way his eyes flickered to where Trey had a hand on your shoulder and back up to your red eyes betrayed his inner feelings.

“It’s alright Riddle, she has something to tell you, but needs a moment, right?” Trey slipped his hand off your shoulder and gently nudged you towards Riddle whose face morphed into concern.

You sniffled and shuffled into your boyfriend's arms. He calmed you and tried to calm his own heartbeat to not alarm you further. He was so worried about what had made you this way that he could hardly wait for you to tell him what was wrong.

“Riddle” you started, “I was approached by this first year in Heartslabyul. He has a-a…” you broke off and continued to sob into his chest.

Trey cleared his throat and Riddle looked up at him.

“A student in our dorm has somehow acquired a picture of your partner, naked.” he said with surprising coldness. Riddle’s eyes widened and he forced himself not to begin shouting. Trey went on, “he threatened to release it on Magicam if she doesn’t date him.”

Blackmail! Riddle’s face turned redder than the rose on his uniform. Someone in HIS dorm was threatening HIS s/o! They were lucky he was practicing control or he would already be cutting their heads off.

“Trey.” he addressed his right hand man, “take care of it.”

Clover raised an eyebrow in surprise. He was sure that Riddle would want to take care of it himself.

Riddle nodded down, where you were still sniffling in his arms.

“I have something more important to take care of.” His voice was hard and icy. You gasped and shrunk back at the tone and he quickly softened his voice to address you once more. “Come on Rosebud, let’s go take a hot bath, yes?”

You nodded and opened your mouth to say something but closed it quickly.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “This student will not be in this school much longer. We may be villains but we are not monsters.”

Sighing in relief, you rested your head in the crook of Riddle’s neck.

“Thank you, Riddle.”

“Come Rosebud. My own rules declare that I must now take care of you until you feel as relaxed as possible.” He smiled at your giggles and began to whisk you away towards his bedroom.

As much as he would love to behead the student who hurt you, his first and most important priority was your safety and happiness. His only job now was to make you feel safe and loved.

“Ruggie, I want a sandwich.” Leona called out lazily as he walked down the Savanaclaw halls. The hyena hadn’t shown up to clean his room yet and his girlfriend was also nowhere to be found so Leona was especially irritable today.

The prince paused as the sound of soft sniffles reached his ears, he knew that sound. It was the dreaded and hated sound of you crying.

Leona wasn’t heartless and never shamed anyone, especially you for having emotions, but it was such an uncommon event in Savanaclaw that he was always surprised. One of the reasons he loved you so much was your inner strength. Hardly anything caused you to waver or break down.

Whatever had made you cry was going to pay dearly.

Leona slammed the door to Ruggie’s room open with a snarl and you shrieked in surprise. He instantly felt guilt but was too angry to acknowledge it. Ruggie turned and glanced at both of you before spitting out the situation despite telling you he wouldn’t tell Leona.

“A sick fresh baby took a nude of Y/N and is now trying to blackmail her into breaking up with you and dating him. Ow!” you kicked him in the shin and glared.

“You told me you wouldn’t tell him.”

Leona didn’t wait to hear the argument, he knew exactly who it was and he was going to deal with it now.

“Leona! Wait! Don’t hurt him!” you cried and Leona went rigid.

“Don’t hurt him? He tried to take what’s mine! He threatened you! I’m not gonna let anyone get away with that!” Leona shouted, causing you to flinch.

He cursed and stomped over to you before pulling you into a tight hug. He pressed his nose to your hair and inhaled deeply. You stayed like that until you stopped trembling.

“Herbivore,” he whispered. “I… You are mine. No one gets to do that to you. Let me handle him and then we can take a nap. Okay?” You allowed him to speak to you and smiled.

Leona would always have a hard time expressing certain emotions, to most others his wording would have sounded a bit harsh but you knew the truth. He was sorry he scared you and he wanted you to feel safe and loved but he was also pissed and needed to take it out on something before he could tend to you.

“Ok.” you nodded and squeezed him tightly one last time before letting go. He smiled and swooped down to kiss you quickly and passionately.

“I’ll be back soon my Herbivore, keep the bed warm will ya?” you chuckled and nodded. As you turned to walk back to Leona’s room you could have sworn you heard a muttered “I love you.”

Jade frowned down at you and shook his head. He cooed at you and pulled you into the lounge seat as Floyd returned with some food for you and a hot drink.

“I have to say, I’m quite disappointed in this behavior. It’s not something I would expect from a student of Octavinelle.” he spoke as if he didn’t use blackmail all the time.

Floyd fidgeted as he watched you cry and you could tell he was itching to squeeze something. You couldn’t blame him. If you found out someone had a nude photo of your friend and was threatening to release it, you would be pissed.

“I’m sorry,” you sniffed. “I don’t mean to be such trouble.”

“And why would you be troubling us?” Before Jade or Floyd could speak to assure that you weren’t causing them trouble at all the voice of your boyfriend rang out crystal clear through the empty lounge.

You gasped and turned to face him. He stalked forwards and peered at your face from underneath his glasses. He took note of your red, swollen eyes and tear stained cheeks.

He hummed thoughtfully and snapped his fingers making Jade and Floyd go straight.

“Take care of whoever hurt my sea angel. I will tend to her now.” His voice was cold and emotionless as were his features. The business man in him came out as he steeled himself to take care of a sour deal. However you could see under his lashes, concern was tucked away for you.

Jade and Floyd grinned maniacally, both taking great pleasure in finally being able to let out their sadistic tendencies on someone who truly deserved it.

When the eels had left the room in their own unique slinky way, Azul walked over to your booth calmly and sat down next to you.

“Hey, sea angel.” he whispered.

You sniffed and looked away from him. He frowned and shifted closer. “There’s no need to be that way, I am not upset.” he said.

“Well I am,” he started and you whipped your head to look at him fearfully. “But not at you, love.” he reassured quickly. “I am disappointed and angry towards the dirty sea rat who did this to you.”

His tone was harsh for a moment but soothed into a softer pitch when he looked back at you. “He hurt you.”

A hand strayed to your face and gently wiped tears from your eyes, careful not to catch your eyes which closed on instinct.

Azul smiled sadly and cupped your cheeks. “I won’t let another hurt you this way again. I swear on the bermuda triangle.”

You laughed and smiled back at him. “Are there really sea rats?” you asked curiously and his eyes widened for a moment before he burst into laughter. You joined him, giggling about what a mer-rat would look like.

When Jade and Floyd returned to report, they found you and Azul asleep in each other's arms on the booth. They shared a glance and turned to leave you to your peace.

Kalim is notorious for being oblivious. His fun-loving and childish nature makes him likely to overlook serious issues or anything not directly in his face. His everlasting cheerfulness was one of the reasons that you loved him so. But you were afraid to ruin his day sometimes by bringing up difficult conversations.

So when the student began following you and speaking rudely to you, you ignored it. For weeks you tried to disregard the odd approaches and uncomfortable conversations.

Jamil noticed and asked you about it, but you pleaded that he didn’t tell your boyfriend. You could handle this situation and there was no need to trouble the young heir with something so trivial.

The day you received a nude photo from an unknown number though, you knew you couldn’t keep the facade up for much longer. At first you hadn’t connected the photo to the student but when you peered closer and recognised your own body, you fell apart.

“Y/n I have tea for-” Jamil quickly noticed your distress and set down the tea on Kalim’s bedside table.

“Y/n? What’s wrong? Did Kalim say something insensitive? I swear if he did I’ll-”

“No!” you cried out, cutting him off. “It’s this.” you showed Jamil the message from the anonymous number. He sucked in a breath and his expression went dark.

“I’m going to assume that the picture he sent with it is your body?” you nodded and broke down again.

“We have to tell Kalim.” He spoke calmly as you cried.

“But I don’t hic- want to.” you sobbed.

“There’s no reason to be embarrassed or ashamed,” he said. “This isn’t your fault and we can’t let him get away with this. The longer he has that photo, the more likely it is to be spread.”

“What photo?” Both of you turned to the bedroom door and blinked in surprise. You hadn’t noticed Kalim entering the room.

Jamil took the phone from your hand before you could protest and handed it to Kalim. He assured the heir that he himself hadn’t seen the photo and watched quietly as Kalim took in your familiar features.

You rarely saw anger so undisguised on Kalim’s face. Your bottom lip trembled in an attempt to keep yourself from crying again. You wanted to appear strong for your beloved.

Kalim dismissed Jamil silently and the vice dorm leader nodded in understanding. He then walked over to the bed and sat next to you.

“Diamond? Please look at me.” Kalim said quietly. You turned and looked him in the eyes and he pressed a quick kiss to each of your eyelids and then your nose.

“I won’t let anyone hurt you. I won’t let anyone even irritate you in the slightest.” he said. “All you need to do is say the word and I’ll be there to keep you safe. If something like this ever happens again please promise to tell me right away?”

“I-I promise.” you whispered and he smiled sadly.

“I love you, my little diamond in the rough.”

Your time under Vil’s care had desensitized you to the cruelness of the world around you. His experience with hatred and rudeness through the beauty industry allowed him to shelter you from everything bad about NRC. Unfortunately his protection and loving care wasn’t always enough.

It was a Saturday, and you were sitting in the Pomefiore lounge waiting for your love who was applying some last minute touch ups to his look for your morning date.

You had just checked the time with a frown when a message from an unknown sender popped up on your phone screen. An eyebrow raised and you curiously checked the message. Almost immediately you felt as though your heart had leapt into your throat.

Your own bare skin stared back at you and nausea curled in your stomach as more photos began to appear underneath the original. You felt faint by the time they stopped and you were sure you wouldn’t be able to walk if you stood.

“Mademoiselle?” Rook's voice heavy with a french accent rang through the lounge and I straightened myself as if I could hide my anxiety from him. He stopped momentarily and peered into my face before turning to one of the first years in the room.

“Fetch Roi du Poison immediately, tell him his lover is ill and when you return, clear the hall.” The first year nodded surprised and scurried off.

Rook turned to face me and with a comforting smile, knelt in front of me and took my hands in his. He spoke something in French that I didn’t understand and he quickly translated.

“In the presence of true friends, may you be blessed with the ability of comfortable truth,” he said. “It means I wish you to tell me what is wrong and do not be afraid, you will never be judged.”

I smiled at the irony of his words. There is never a time in Pomefiore when you aren’t judged but I went over the story regardless. His expression became neutral but his tone contained barely restrained anger when he spoke.

“That is a very unbeautiful thing of someone to do.”

It was at that moment that Vil walked in, his makeup only partially finished and hair still up in a loose bun to allow easy access to his face. Despite this he still had an air of elegance to his stride and you sat up straight when he entered.

“My sweet potato.” he spoke, “I heard there is concern.” His eyes betrayed his worry and you smiled up at him.

He didn’t bother asking Rook what happened, only waving a hand to dismiss him.

“I will be angry later after you take care of it, for now I must reserve my emotions to comfort my sweet potato.”

Rook nodded and left. Vil approached you and pulled your head against his stomach. You were still seated but wrapped your arms around his waist and did your best not to get your tear stained cheeks near his silk robe.

“Cry on me sweet potato, I don’t mind. I would trade all my beauty for even a minute of your happiness. Now don’t be afraid and allow me to comfort you.”

With those words you began to sob again. Vil was rather scarce with kind words but for you he made it clear that he loved you and you couldn’t help but feel as though, in his arms, nothing could reach you.

Ignihyde was one of the 7 dorms of Night Raven College. It wasn’t the biggest nor the grandest but it was certainly the one in which you were most likely to be overheard.

The size of the halls and the structure of the building made it a place where sound travels very easily. Echoes bounced off every wall and even several rooms away it was not difficult to listen into a conversation.

This was one reason that you disliked the dorm. You didn’t dislike it as a whole, but at this moment you wished it had been built slightly differently.

Your sniffles were far too loud to your own ears and you pressed your shirt to your mouth with a fist. The corner of a hall was the ideal place to hide but not unless you were perfectly silent.

In your state of distress this was impossible. You could only pray that no one heard you and that if they did, they would pretend not to notice. Your boyfriend was a different matter altogether.

Idia Shroud, the dorm leader of this solitary hall, was as much of an introvert as one could get. He attended his classes by technology and had his brother accompany him to the school as support.

Despite his shyness, he still cared deeply for you. His overhearing your soft cries was almost more daunting than the cause of your cries themselves.

The carelessly nude image of a young woman flickered on your phone screen. You recognized the body almost as soon as you saw it. The body was your own.

While you knew NRC was a dangerous and difficult place, you had never expected this kind of blatant harassment to arise. Your naivety led you to believe that leaving the window unlocked and open, facing the forest, was hardly something to be concerned about.

But the evidence of just how wrong you were sat in front of you, captioned by a threatening text. The number at the top of your phone wasn’t one you recognized but you knew who had sent it anyway.

A third year in the same dorm as your love, his jealousy over you was surprising at first but quickly turned harsh when you did not respond to his affections. You neglected to confront Idia about the situation as you were embarrassed that you could allow yourself into such a vulnerable position.

You had just been contemplating how to resolve this without your lover’s knowledge when he, himself, rounded the corner to peer behind the pillar at where you were hiding.

A sharp gasp of surprise echoed off the walls and he flinched back momentarily as if stung that he had scared you. His shy eyes glided over your curled up figure and rested on your swollen eyes.

You sniffed and wiped your face, He smiled nervously and knelt down next to you, concealing himself behind the pillar as well.

“What’s up?” he spoke timidly.

You looked at him and fresh tears welled up in your eyes, startling him. You almost instantly tried to reassure him that he wasn’t the cause of your despair, but in doing so, confessed the true reason behind your sadness.

His eyes widened and anger flashed in them, surprising you. His hair burst into a blazing red and you shuddered at the wave of heat that hit you.

Noticing his own outburst, Idia took a few deep breaths and soon his hair returned to its normal blue flame.

“Ok. I get it now.” he paused, unsure how to proceed. “If you give me your phone, I can figure out who it is and then…” hesitation as he worded his intent in his head. “... properly educate them on the consequences of messing with you.”

You blinked and snorted out a laugh, surprising him.

Idia had always been such a timid and awkward man. You knew him well enough that it wasn’t a shock that he had more to him than just being an introvert. But you had never anticipated him to be protective enough to confront another person.

He raised an eyebrow and smiled cautiously, unsure of what you were laughing about. As you calmed and leaned against him his smile grew in size and he chuckled nervously. His cheeks flushed and he tensed momentarily before reminding himself to stay calm.

It always amazed him how you could love someone like him, and yet, he realized, it was even more amazing that he had the courage to approach someone and be angry at them. The thought made him shiver, but he had no desire to hide. If someone was messing with you, no amount of social interaction would deter him from keeping you safe.

Malleus had always been a fairly kind and considerate person with you. However that doesn’t mean he is always this way. He was a student at a school for villany after all.

You weren’t ignorant to this fact. You were well aware of his capability to be cruel and malicious. His power and heritage made him a feared figure in the school and outside. Thus he often found that he was left out of social gatherings and such.

His appreciation for you had only expanded and deepened as you proved to be different from the rest. Your attention to him and lack of fear intrigued him and filled him with warmth and love for you.

He had lived for such a long time and would live for far longer, yet you were the only mortal of your kind to be so significant to him. And your mortality and fragility in comparison to his only made his discovery that much more rare and precious to him.

Of course this made him protective and slightly possessive towards you. He often withheld from encouraging you to not participate in potentially dangerous activities. He knew that you may injure more easily than he, but you were not made of glass.

His possessive nature was even more withdrawn for this reason. As a part dragon, part fae, his desire to lock you away as his treasure and more so, his mate, was intense enough that sometimes he debated asking you how ok you would be with living in a lavish tower for the rest of your life.

But he did not ask that, and he did not even truly desire to put you in a tower. No matter how much it bugged him that you gave attention to others (mostly your friends), he would never restrict your freedom for his satisfaction.

Malleus didn’t need to be told that your happiness would be diminished under someone else's control. So he pushed away his desire to shield you from everyone and everything, because what he wanted most was your eternal joy.

This was exactly why you had canceled your plans with him and hid yourself in your dorm.

Only hours before, a student from Diasomnia called you and threatened you with blackmail and other horrid things. His goal was to convince you to leave Malleus for him. You had promptly run home and locked yourself in your room.

The text to Malleus was short and simple; “Felt sick. Can’t hang. Tomorrow?” The message was left on read.

You wondered if he had simply forgotten to respond or if he was too busy to bother. Either way it only worsened your distraught state.

You had been crying hard enough that you hadn’t heard someone come up the stairs and knock on your door. He opened it and it creaked, startling you.

“Oh dear…” A soft voice interrupted you. Lilia stood in the doorway with a concerned look on his face. “I knew something was wrong.”

He crossed the room and sat next to you silently. “What is it dear?” He pulled a cup of hot tea from nowhere and handed it to you.

“There’s th-this guy, and he-he-he…” you took a shaky breath and willed yourself not to cry anymore. Lilia’s eyes darkened and he disappeared in a thick cloud of green dust.

You coughed and began to cry again. You were sure Lilia was going to hurt the student and you didn’ want that. What you didn’t expect was that he had left to retrieve someone else who could comfort you better.

You expected that he transported because you were unaware of when and how he arrived before he pushed the door open.

“Darling?” he spoke when you jumped up. Quickly you wiped your face, smudging your tears over your cheeks in hopes that they wouldn’t be as noticeable. “What’s bothering you?”

“Malleus,” you didn’t answer his question. “Did you get my text?”

He paused and his frown deepened. Slowly he sat next to you and pulled you into a hug. Your breath hitched in an effort not to break down again.

“Is this about that student who has been harassing you?”

You gasped and pulled back. “You knew?” you wiped your nose on your sleeve.

He smiled softly and conjured a handkerchief out of the air. It was very nice and you almost felt guilty dirtying it with your snot.

“I took care of it.” he said when you finished tending to your runny nose. You raised an eyebrow questioningly but he only matched your gaze with a blank expression, though you could see the remnants of rage burning in his eyes.

“I hope you didn’t hurt him too much.” you said, leaning back into his embrace.

After a moment Malleus spoke again. “He got everything he deserved.”

[souyaf]

Ⅰ. MAKING YOU SQUIRT.

#DRAKEN, BAJI, KAKUCHO, SANZU

— check out my other content!

WARNING: this blog contains dark content.

+ CW: mean!sanzu, degrading talk, dirty talk, service dom!kakucho, praise

-ˏˋ KEN RYUGUJI.

champ of making you squirt accidentally

his cock is just too big. too much for your poor little cunt. and he knows it so he always makes sure to make sure you're prepared.

four orgasms later, a mess of your cum on his face and fingers, and he's finally sinking that beautiful, fat cock into you.

his eyes are locked on the way you swallow him, your warm little cunt sticky and twitching around him the deeper he goes. he waits for any sign that it hurts, that you need him to pause so you can take a break.

but it never comes.

instead, he feels you spasm underneath him, your walls licking around him like a vice as you wail. your legs kick and your back arches, your pretty lips letting out mindless cries of pleasure all while he's completely frozen, balls deep in your clenching little pussy.

no matter how many times it happens, he's always astounded. as if he's never able to get used to the way you so easily lose your mind over his cock.

you squirt all over him, coating his abs in an erotic sheen of your cum. he always stays still, lidded eyes watching you ride out the orgasm he didn't even try to give you.

"i hope you're not done," he grunts, "'cause now i'm gonna make you cum."

and he needs to cum real bad after seeing you lose yourself on his cock like some easy little slut.

-ˏˋ KEISUKE BAJI.

makes you squirt just because he's mean and likes to watch how embarrassed you get

“don’t hide from me,” he snaps, dark eyes fixed in a glare as he gripped the back of your knees, meanly pushing them to your chest, pure strength keeping you pinned in place.

you let out the sweetest little sob when he does it, making him audibly moan. you’re just so pretty, especially when you cry because he’s got you stuffed too full on his fat cock.

his thrusts were perfect, he knew exactly where to aim that gets you creaming and squirming beneath him. the broad grin on his lips sent a strike of fear through you -- it was always a mean, sadistic look that let you know that you were in for a rough time.

It was confirmed when he suddenly sped up his thrusts, heavy balls slapping against your ass. his blunt nails dug into the sensitive underside of your thighs, the feeling of your sweet little cunt squeezing and spasming around him so well almost too much for him to take.

“you gonna cum?” he grins, easily picking up on the way your whole body twitches and trembles, your eyes glassy as you stare mindlessly up at him.

you shake your head, “‘s gonna be m-messy!“

he laughs.

it’s funny you think he cares. that’s what he wants. it’s always what he wants.

“cum,” he snaps, that mean glare narrowing down at you once again. you sob, tossing your head back, “quit bein’ a brat baby.”

your entire body goes still for a moment, mouth falling open but no sound comes out. his eyes are locked onto your cunt -- your pretty little clit twitches and throbs as you start to gush, squirting all over him with every single thrust he delivers.

“atta girl!” he laughs at the humiliated whine that leaves your throat, “messy little baby, squirtin’ all over me like that...’s it feel good?”

-ˏˋ KAKUCHO HITTO.

makes you cum because he just wants you to feel good

two thick fingers stuffed inside your precious little cunt as you sat on his lap was the perfect way to spend your night. it had just been intended to be a movie and cuddle night but being finger fucked by your beautiful boyfriend was a much better alternative.

despite the palpable shyness that came with being completely nude while he was fully clothed, you still willfully spread your legs for him to play with your pussy.

you whine his name, back arching as your eyes rolled back in your head before realizing how badly you wanted to watch. with your head hanging between your shoulders, your wide eyes took in every perfect movement.

his pretty fingers spread your folds, circling your clit before slowly and carefully sinking into your pussy. your mouth falls open at the feeling and the sight of being stretched open.

with his chin resting on your shoulder, he watches his own fingers come out coated in your thick, creamy juices before fucking them back into your sticky little hole.

it was loud and lewd, the sound of your messy little pussy swallowing his fingers. but he didn’t seem to care, his hard cock pressing against your ass was definitely throbbing in arousal.

“‘m gonna cum,” you breathlessly warn, reaching down to wrap your hand around his wrist.

he hummed in your ear, “go ahead, show me how this pretty pussy cums, baby.”

his filthy words brought you to your end immediately. you wail out in pleasure, thighs twitching, your cunt squeezing his fingers so hard he had to pull them out.

as soon as he did, you gushed everywhere. he moaned at the sight of you squirting all over his lap. he played with your clit, moaning and whimpering in your ear the harder you came until you finally pushed him away.

he laughed softly at the sight of your twitching and trembling through the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“good girl,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your temple, “my good girl, so pretty...”

-ˏˋ HARUCHIYO SANZU.

overstims you into squirting until you're in tears and begging him to stop

"ah, ah," he scolds, a sadistic little grin plastered across his face at the sight of you trembling beneath him.

there were tears in your eyes, just what he loved to see. when you cried because of him, because of the pleasure only he could bring you to.

"you were beggin' like a little bitch a little while ago," he snarls, "made me come home just to play with this filthy little cunt. now you're tryin' to run away? you know better."

you whimper, letting your legs fall open again just to hear the half-hearted praise he lets out at the sight of your pretty pussy on display for him once again.

when he stuffs his cock back into your pussy, you squeal and kick your legs out. you feel so sensitive from the numerous orgasms he's already fucked out of your poor little cunt.

but he wasn't letting up, not even letting you breathe even as you twitched and wailed at the overstimulation. he angled his hips just right, practiced movements that allowed his pelvic bone to grind against your clit just right.

your eyes rolled back in your head, your walls squeezing down around him as another orgasm washed over you.

"messy little whore," he snaps, teeth gritted as he watches you squirt, coating his abs in your cum like the good little girl you were.

you laid there twitching and trembling, cunt spasming around his still hard cock. large, calluses hands smoothed down your body, licking eyes with your tired, dazed ones that were rimmed with tears.

"you know we're not done though," he breathes, slowing starting to move again, "you know that right, dumb girl?"

©2021 souyaf, do not repost, modify, redistribute or translate.

[madaboutmunson]

The Drive-In Part 17

Part 1 | Part 16 | Part 18 | Links to all Parts | AO3 Link

Taglist: @2btheanswertothequestion @cr0w-culture @panicatthediaz @rhyswritesreadsandcries @weirdspaceowl @duraffinity @thegeekcompanion @stereoteleversion @hagbaby420

Eddie manages to get to the next convenience store and buys three pints of ice cream. The good stuff.

On the ride home, he turns the stereo up so loudly that it almost sounds distorted through the speakers. Then, finally, the van comes to an abrupt stop outside of the trailer. He jumps out of the van with his haul. Heads inside, putting two in the freezer and one on the countertop with a little spoon.

He walks into his room, changes into his favourite Sabbath threadbare t-shirt and some old shorts, comes back out to the living room, puts in a video, opens the ice cream and as he consumes the first spoonful, he lets the tears fall.

He had suspected this would happen, but he was crushed all the same. It was just all so unceremonious. Life just loved to kick him in the nuts that way. All those times he was hoping for disappointment to come to quiet those thoughts, it didn't. It just kept building him up, and the moment...the fucking moment he let his guard down an inch...oof!!

He had no idea Steve would be at the video store and vice versa, that was pure coincidence, but Eddie couldn't help but feel a little dumb that he hadn't made the Robin connection. It was probably because he always called her by her surname.

Sobbing into his ice cream, Eddie attempts to reason this out with facts. Ok, so maybe Eddie couldn't be mad at Steve for breaking his heart, but he could be angry that Steve had a great girl like Buckley and was fooling around with Felicity at the drive-in. That fucking sucked. What an asshole.

Some people just get everything, and they squander it. Eddie didn't have a crush on Robin or anything like that, but he knew she was nice and seemed cool. She didn't deserve this shit.

The phone in the trailer rings. Eddie ignores it and turns the TV up louder, but the ringing continues. He curses and gets up to answer it.

"Hello?" He says, shovelling another spoonful of ice cream in his mouth.

"Eddieeeeeee! Babyeeeeeeeee! It's Sunday night, Man!"

Shit! Eddie had forgotten all about hanging out with Gareth tonight.

"Hey, man", he manages with his mouth full, "This is lame, but I'm er...I'm gonna have to raincheck on the hangout tonight, man."

"Ah, ok, no wor-...Eddie? Are you watching The Fox and the Hound?" Gareth's tone turns very serious.

"No", Eddie lies unconvincingly.

There is an audible sigh on the other end of the phone, "Which number pint of ice cream are you on?" Gareth asks gently.

Eddie sniffles, "The first one..."

"How many in total?" Gareth asks in a more muffled voice, and Eddie hears the noise of a set of keys.

"Three", Eddie says weakly, with his mouth full.

"I'm coming over there. Do not lock the door. I don't want to explain to your Uncle why I had to break into your house again!" Gareth says.

"Ok," Eddie says, holding back a sob, putting the phone down.

Eddie didn't have to hide his emotions from anyone in Corroded Coffin. They'd all been through the wringer around one another. Eddie had taken them all under his wing, to begin with, but slowly and surely, they grew strong enough to shelter him, too, when he needed it. Though it still didn't stop Eddie from feeling a little embarrassed when he had moments like this. He felt a responsibility. He was the leader, the big brother. He thought he shouldn't be in floods of tears around them, at least, regardless of what they said.

Fifteen minutes later, Gareth's car pulls up outside. Which Eddie knew meant that Gareth had not been driving at the speed limit, and Eddie would definitely hypocritically lecture him about that at some point, but right now, spoon was hitting carton, and Eddie was frantically wiping his eyes with his shirt.

The door bursts open, "Who did it?! Who was it, Eddie? I swear I'll..." Gareth makes crushing gestures between his hands and growls.

Eddie waves his hands in front of him, "It was no one, man. It's just that time of year, you know?"

"I know what yesterday was, ok? We all do, and we shoulda not listened and joined you at the drive-in anyway! But I know for damn sure that it isn't the time of year that caused a three-pinter, Eddie."

Then Gareth takes a good look at Eddie. Making eye contact first, Gareth looks sad, then his eyes fall to Eddie's cheek, and his face twists into anger.

"Fucking assholes!" Gareth rages. "I swear to Christ I'm gonna slash all of their tyres. Pricks."

Eddie scrapes around the bottom of the ice cream carton, "You will absolutely not, ok? You are not getting in shit because I did something dumb."

The door swings open again, and Jeff and Paul charge through, out of breath, armed with some mountain dew.

Jeff thumps Paul on the arm, "I fuckin' told you we shouldn't have listened to him, man. Now, look at this, shit."

Paul thumps him back, yelling, "Oh, I can't respect my friend's fucking wishes now?"

Jeff heads to put the drinks in the fridge and returns with ice cream carton two, for Eddie and a fresh teaspoon, whilst at precisely the same time Paul is switching out The Fox and the Hound for Eddie's favourite Iron Maiden concert tape and Gareth sits next to Eddie takes away his empty ice cream tub, and scoops him up in a hug. They don't do any of these things in silence or even with a break in the conversation, still squabbling over whose fault it was any of them had even listen listened to Eddie. Except for Eddie of course, it definitely couldn't have possibly been his fault.

The events of the last twenty-four hours have made Eddie feel so overwhelmed he just wants to violently sob to the point of convulsion into Gareth's shirt, but he manages to just about keep it together and leans back with a sigh.

It wasn't just they were here for him. It was because they knew him. They knew how he liked things, the small stuff, which made him feel good because he felt seen and heard. They didn't know about Eddie's secret camp visit, and he certainly wasn't going to tell them about Steve. Especially not now. He didn't need to.

"Wanna talk about it?" Jeff says, opening the ice cream and handing it over to Eddie, who immediately eats some as he looks around at their faces.

"It's really lame, guys. Like the stupidest shit," Eddie sighs.

There is a chorus of shut up, that's ok, don't worry about that. All at the same time.

Eddie decides to tell them, but he'd take some artistic license to protect himself and Steve.

"Well, I went to the drive-in as planned. I was doing my drops and flirted with a girl. She was with those assholes. They beat me up. I had van trouble. This girl offered me a ride. I didn't wanna see Wayne because he'd be pissed, so I went to hers. We had an amazing time, and I mean amazing. We were talking, laughing, drinking, smoking, dancing..."

"Dancing??!" Paul's eyes go wide like Eddie had just said something like murder.

"Yeah...she even got me dancing, man," Eddie says softly, poking the ice cream with his spoon. "She called me beautiful, and I respectfully stayed in a separate room because she was wasted. This morning I made her pancakes..." Eddie keeps his eyes on his ice cream as he speaks

"Not the pancakes, Eddie..." Gareth says, running his hands down his face, pulling his cheeks downwards, making him look like a droopy-jowled puppy.

"Yes, the pancakes! But this time, she sat and ate them with me. She dropped me off at my van, and we sang and laughed all the way there, like some fucking Disney musical. Then I come home, go to...um...the store, and she's there with this guy, right, and she says hello, but it's like cold, you know, and I can tell from her hair and clothes..." Eddie looks down and turns his head away to choke back a sob. "That she and he...you know..." Eddie waves his hand in front of him like he's trying to bat away the memory.

"Eddie, that fucking sucks, dude!!" Jeff says quickly.

"Sounds like she didn't deserve you anyway." Paul consoles.

"Plenty more fish in the sea, buddy" Gareth reassure him.

"I just don't get it, you know? What did I do wrong? Why can't the universe just give me a chance, you know?" Eddie looks sadly at the floor.

"Hey man, you did nothing wrong. You were kind, you were chivalrous, you were respectful. None of those things is bad. You are not bad. It's her. Look at it this way the universe let you know as soon as it could. She wasn't the one." Paul says kindly.

"I know you're just backing me up but she's not bad. She's pretty cool, actually, unexpectedly. But also completely not cool at the same time, kinda goofy, you know?" Eddie sighs, "I'm just upset because I read it wrong, is all. I got my hopes up. She didn't know that" Eddie desperately wants to direct all his hurt at Steve, but he can't.

The rest of the band stays quiet and looks comfortingly at Eddie, knowing he wants to say more.

"It's stupid. One night, not even a kiss and someone steals your heart, right outta your chest? That doesn't even seem possible, and obviously, she didn't mean to do that. That's on me."

Eddie gives a defeated smile and shakes his head.

"It also sucks because we probably could have been pretty good friends, but now? I just think it would be creepy for me to do that," Eddie finishes and digs into the ice cream again.

"Well, you know, that can happen with stuff. Remember when Paul was obsessed with that new brand of strings and wouldn't shut up about 'em, and then he got 'em, and they snapped in rehearsal? We all said they couldn't take your style of play, man, but you went ahead and got 'em anyway." Gareth says, looking between them all.

"I swear, I make one tiny mistake, and you haven't let it go in three years, man!" Paul says in exasperated annoyance, raising his hands to his curls.

"Tiny mistake? Tiny mistake!! You cost us a full rehearsal, man. That's what cost us the battle of the bands" Gareth flails his arms animatedly.

"No, what cost us the battle of the bands was you deciding you wanted to try to drum like a deranged Keith Moon for the night, head butting your crash, and your forehead becoming Mount Vesuvius", Paul readjusts his sitting position and points the finger at Gareth.

"I disagree. From where I stood, I think that looked fucking awesome," Jeff adds quickly.

"See, it looked fucking awesome." Gareth gestures both hands at Jeff before glaring at Paul again.

"Are you forgetting that you passed out, and we had to play without a drummer?" Paul says, putting his hands to his head, miming his head exploding.

"Sorry for being that guy, but Gareth wasn't passed out. Sure, he was draped over one side of his kit with his eyes shut, but he was still playing with the other side. So we still had kick and snare," Jeff interjects calmly.

"It made us sound like a heavy metal Oompa band!!' Paul shouts, eyes wide, thumping the floor.

"Oompa?? Oh that's it" Gareth is livid and launches himself at Paul, who uses Jeff as a shield to take the full impact of a flying Gareth. It soon descends into a blur of headlocks and other wrestling submission holds.

Eddie watches the scene in front of him and smiles, "Dumbasses" he says fondly. His smile turns into a laugh, and soon enough, he's gripping his bruised ribs, cackling with laughter.

The past 24 hours had been a real roller coaster, but these guys, his brothers, never failed to pick him up.

He puts the top back on the Ice cream, walks past the all-out brawl to put it in the freezer, and goes to his room to put on his armour once more.

He walks back into the living room, and the rest of Corroded Coffin lie breathless on the floor, still attempting to argue.

Jeff makes it to one knee and bows his head. Paul and Gareth follow Jeff's lead in kneeled bows.

Jeff dramatically raises his hands to the ceiling, "A blessing on this day of the sun, where our great and noble leader hast been returned to us from the darkest depths."

"The mightiest of champions" Paul adds miming holding a two-handed greatsword.

"The slayer of riffs," Gareth says, throwing up the metal horns.

"Eddie! Eddie! Eddie! Eddie! Eddie! Eddie!" The three chant with acceleration together, swarming and crushing Eddie in a group hug, slash hair ruffle.

"Shut up!" Eddie screeches out, and all three recoil on instinct, but Eddie pulls them all back in, "I love you fucking dickheads"

[pleasantanathema]

Dirty Old Man

Pairing: Kenny Ackerman x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ Only)

Warnings: Dubcon themes in the beginning (it’s later all consensual), Knifeplay (to remove clothing), Captivity/Kidnapping, Slapping, Daddy Kink, Some Assplay, Gagging (on fingers), Choking, One mention of blood, A little bit of bondage, Rough Sex, Dirty Talk, Age Gap, Kenny is a dirty old man.

Word Count: 5.5k

A/N: It’s late, but it’s here! Here’s my part to the Smut Pile’s Western Collab! Please heed the warnings. Kenny is disgusting and I’m disgusting but here we are, fucking Kenny.

           “I told you to stop running away. I’m gettin’ real fuckin’ tired of chasin you down.” Kenny spit the words out like poison, crouching in front of you to place the tip-end of his knife against your corseted chest as a warning.

           You attempted a protest, but the makeshift gag made out of a torn piece of your skirts kept you virtually silent. Your wrists were burning, the rope around them scratching against your skin behind your back. The inn he’d taken you to for the night was damp and dirty, the floor you were tossed into reeking of piss and sour bourbon.

           He had come for you again. You’d had some wistful doubt that he wouldn’t, but like always, he’d tracked you down as easily as hunters do footprints in thick snow. He’d followed your trail and bound you with that thick rope of braided hemp he always kept at his side. Evading him was never easy, but you thought you’d gotten away with it this time when you’d found a meager orphanage to cook at. He hated children—you thought he’d never set foot in the place, but reckoning had come for you in the early hours of the morning, with a dark shadow moving in the corner of the kitchens.

           “You never fuckin’ learn. Maybe this time I’ll teach you a lesson you won’t forget.”

           The sharp point of his blade dug into your clothes, the cutting edge purposefully situated between featherbone channels so it could slice at cotton threads.

          You swore against the cloth in your mouth, your curses soaking into the spit-damp fabric. He hooked a finger under the gag digging into your cheek, pulling at the material with a smirk.

          “Got something to say, kid?”

          Slowly, he pulled the torn cloth from your mouth, your head twisting to shake away strings of drool that had attached to the textile.

          “Maybe I like the chase, Kenny,” you hissed out his name, not bothering with the Mr. Ackerman bullshit you’d called him at home.

          He had once been a rather removed presence in your life; he was just that outlaw in the corner who did the terrible things the rich families in your town had the money but not the gall to do. But now he’d become the bane of your existence, the dark thread that always pulled you back into the oppressive home life you were running from. He never seemed to care. If anything, he seemed to take a sick joy in finding you quicker each time you snuck out and ran in a new, farther direction.

          “So we’re on a first name basis now, huh? Good, cause we’re about to get real intimate.”

          “You could make this real fun and actually untie me.”

          “I’m not untying you, ain’t fucking happening. I didn’t spend weeks tracking down a stupid maiden for her daddy for you to run off into the woods the moment I turn my back to piss.”

          You winced a little at his harsh words, still very aware of the cold steel carefully skating through the middle of your chest. The threads of your corset were popping and curling back toward the bone linings.

          “I’m not some fragile maiden.”

          “I don’t give a fuck what you ain’t, what you are is a big pain in my ass. I don’t get paid enough for this shit, so I’m takin’ what I’m owed.”

          The reality of your situation settled in when you felt cool air sweep across your freshly exposed breasts. Your initial thought was to kick him, but when you felt him dig the blade a little too deep into the clothes at your belly, you hesitated. One wrong move and he could be slicing you open accidentally.

          Your wrists pounded with lack of blood flow as you painstakingly tested the knots for slack again. Of course, there wasn’t any. He’d probably tied up hundreds of unfortunate souls in his miserable lifetime.

          A thrill raced across your skin as you heard the knife clatter into the floor, Kenny peeling away the layers of split clothes on your body like he was prudently opening the petals of a rare flower.

          “Well, well, look at you, kid.”

          Grey eyes swirled with mirth and mischief under the brim of his hat, a wicked smile curling across bearded cheeks.

          You felt vulnerable and far too hot, the heat of embarrassment licking over your chest, up your neck, burning at your ears. Worse, blazing excitement was pooling between your legs, the dull thump of pleasure beginning to pound in your head.

          A calloused hand began to paw at the fat of your breast, testing the weight of it in his palm.

          “You’re a fucking pervert.���

          “Never said I ain’t.”

          He flicked your nipple with his comment, chuckling as you gasped. The slight twinge of pain sent a jolt of lightning down your spine, making your fingers dig into the thick rope at your wrists and your head tilt back against the wall. Kenny repeated the motion, rubbing his warm thumb over your nipple before flicking it again. You sucked in a quick breath, making your lungs expand and breasts inch closer to his hands.

          “You like that?” He teased, a finger tracing the sensitive underside of your breast.

          “No.”

          He laughed, “Liar. Your pretty nipples are harder than my cock.”

          Kenny proved his point by cupping both your tits and making you moan, back arching toward him instead of away. Seeing the opportunity, he moved in closer, making the remnants of your skirts bunch around your hips as he pressed himself between your legs. You turned your face away from him when he dipped down to kiss you, making his wet lips and wiry beard press into the curve of your throat.

          He sucked at the tender flesh of your neck, teeth and growls gently scraping against skin.

          “What’s my pa going to think about you taking advantage of me like this?”

          You knew you made a good point—unless Kenny had decided to pack some petticoats and powder into his saddle bags, he couldn’t cover up the carnage he was creating.

          “I’m your daddy for tonight, kid. Maybe if you’re good I won’t even take you home this time.”

          “Really?” You knew your voice portrayed your enthusiasm, but you couldn’t help it. You’d do anything to be free of your family and go make a life of your own.

          Kenny took his time thinking over his response, too busy licking and sucking at the delicate column of your throat. It felt good, too good, even the scratch of his beard had you holding back whimpers. His long fingers were still groping your tits, thumbs rhythmically petting over your peaks.

          You felt like you were engulfed in flames, like the hellfire and brimstone that bible-thumpers warned about were taking over your senses. All because of fucking Kenny Ackerman, the dirtiest old man you’d ever come across.

          Though you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t imagined something like this before, it was hard not to when most of your time had been spent tied up on a saddle with him. The pervert always had the audacity to have his half-hard erection pressing into your lower back as you shifted on the smelly horse. It was difficult not to imagine how it would feel to have him inside of you when the horse’s trot had his cock sliding too perfectly against your ass. You’d spent a few nights imagining how he would manhandle you, rough and impatient, and far more skilled than the boys you’d fooled around with.

          Kenny was a dirty old man, but you had no doubt he could fulfill every naughty fantasy women like you weren’t supposed to dream about.

          You shifted forward a bit, draping your thighs over his so you could get closer, press your aching core against that familiar stiffness in his trousers.

          “I’ll be a good girl, daddy,” you let the name roll off your tongue as you tilted your face down to his, “I promise.”

          You sealed your vow by pressing your mouth to his, a victorious frisson tingling at your nerves when he groaned into your lips. His kiss was rough, one of his hands snaking up to your neck with a vice-like grip to keep you from changing your mind. It made your vision go blurry behind your eyelids, grey spots dancing in the corners of your lashes. He tasted like booze and smoke, remnants of his addictions tainting your tongue. But you kept up with his pace, eager to show him that you would be good, that you wanted this, that you’d let him have you. Even if he did take you back home anyways, at least you’d get a thrilling fuck out of this arrangement.

          “You ain’t never been a good girl,” he rumbled against your lips, “daddy’s gonna have to teach you how to behave.”

          You gasped when he used his leverage on your neck to push you farther into the creaking boards of the wall. Your wrists were trapped between your back and the floor, going more numb by the second. He caged you in completely, had you sitting in his lap with his cock pressed against your damp drawers and one hand tangling into the mess of your skirts.

          “Women and all their fucking clothes,” he snarled down at your half-dressed body. Your eyes went wide as you noticed him reach back for the discarded blade, his other hand still content to press against the sides of your neck.

          “W-wait, I don’t have anything else to wear!”

          “You ain’t going to be needin’ em anyways, kid.”

          Time slowed down like the creeping slush of molasses as you watched Kenny begin to slice through your dress and petticoat, each tug of his wrist sending cotton fibers spilling into the floor. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest and sweat beading on the back of your neck every time the spine of the knife grazed the freshly exposed skin of your thighs. You struggled against the rope and the hand holding you back when he began to cut through the length of your drawers. The blade was too close to your intimate places, grazing against your sweltering flesh and making you whimper.

          “I ain’t gonna cut you, darlin. As much as I wanna carve my name into your skin, I couldn’t stand hurtin’ you.”

          You swallowed thickly and he must’ve felt it, his thumb petting at your neck like he was trying to soothe a scared animal. He stopped cutting at your clothing, lifting his pointed chin so he could look up into your face. He grinned, soft but still wolfish, wrinkles gathering at the corners of his eyes.

          “Gimme a kiss, it’ll make you feel better.”

          You complied, perhaps too happily, slanting your mouth against his and moaning at the rough feel of his black hairs against your cheeks.

          Kenny ripped the rest of the threads from your body with his strong fingers, finishing the work that the knife had started. A weight was lifted off of you when your heavy skirts and the skeleton of your corset finally slipped into the floor to be forgotten. He took particular care in relieving you of your cotton drawers, the shadow of his hat obscuring his face as he marveled at the juncture of your thighs.

          “Look at that pretty pussy, all wet and sloppy just for me.”

          You cried out when he brushed a knuckle between your dripping folds, finger slowly uncurling so it could prod at your tight hole.

          “You always get this wet when you’re around me?”

          “Hard not to when you’re always groping me like some animal.”

          His gaze flickered back up to you, the mixture of a frown and a smirk tugging at his lips. He pressed his palm more firmly against your windpipe, making you choke.

          “Don’t know why I bothered to ungag your smart mouth.”

          “I’ll be goo—” you didn’t have the chance to finish your plea, his long fingers uncurling from your neck only for two of them to abruptly slide past your open lips. Your eyes watered a bit from the thrusting motion of his digits and you could feel your moans vibrate against his skin. He started to push his fingers farther into your mouth, seeing how far he could go before your throat tightened, smirking the whole time. His skin tasted like rawhide and copper, like leather and blood, and you breathlessly traced your tongue along his slim knuckles.

          “Your mouth looks better stuffed,” his other hand resumed teasing your lower lips, “Let’s see how many fingers you can take.”

          You almost bit the knuckles in your mouth when he shoved his middle and index fingers into your tight cunt. You muffled out a squeal, eyes rolling shut when a wave of pleasure splashed over your body with the timing of his fingers pushing inside of you. He wasted no time in stretching you, spreading his strong fingers as he withdrew and pressed back inside of you over and over again.

          Your tongue went still and flat in your mouth, spit pooling around slim fingers that still pressed farther back into your throat with every thrust of his hand between your legs. You could practically hear him grinning like a madman with both of his calloused hands pressing into two of your wet holes. You sucked around his fingers when he touched a sensitive, fleshy patch inside of you, fingers curling against your walls and stroking the spot repeatedly.

          Weightless, you felt weightless in Kenny’s lap, like each thrust of his fingers into your mouth and pussy was sending you higher into the clouds. Even your own fingers had gone limp behind you, no longer clinging to their binds.

          “Not bad, kid. How about another?”

          You screamed around his hand when his ring finger stretched your opening wider, your pussy burning from its invasion. He laughed, a sadistic rumble from his chest that vibrated against your tits. At the feel of your cry, he pushed the fingers against your tongue even farther down to the back of your mouth, making you fight your gag reflex and sputter. Spit was falling from the corners of your mouth and you could feel your slick drooling down your thighs and onto his pumping wrist between your legs.

          “Good girl,” he praised, picking up his already merciless pace, “daddy’s got a big cock, need you to be ready for it.”

          Kenny groaned when you nodded your head, eyes fluttering open to catch his gaze. Some twisted pleasure brewed in your lower stomach as you noticed his lopsided grin, pearl white teeth bared over his full lips.

          “I bet you look so fucking pretty when you cum. Think you can? Can you cum from an old man stuffin’ you full of fingers, darlin?”

          You shivered at his words, your thighs shaking as you felt like you were being pulled apart. The three fingers inside of you knew exactly how to make your head go fuzzy and your nerves wild with pleasure, and it only got more intense when his thumb began to circle your already aching clit. You whimpered around his fingers, finding a momentary reprieve when he pulled them from your lips and admired the drool flowing over his knuckles. But he slid them back in after you caught a quick breath, pumping them at the same speed as the fingers buried into your cunt.

          It was like you were brimming and boiling over with the taste and feel of Kenny. Your mind could barely keep up with the shots of ecstasy stemming from your belly, your toes curling against the cold floor, your wrists rubbed raw from rope. Your lower muscles were starting to clench, spasm, shake, and he groaned.

          “Fuck you’re gettin’ tight. But I’ve got one more place to try.”

          Your brows scrunched together when you felt his ring finger slip from your pussy, only to feel his slim pinky finger prod at the tight pucker of your ass.

          “Kemmy, mf, umph,” you struggled to speak with his fingers stuffed in your mouth.

          You finally bit against his skin when you felt the length of his smallest finger slither into your ass.

          The new sensation rocked you, had you gasping and leaning forward and gagging on his fingers and cumming all at the same time. You screamed as you felt your asshole tighten around his digit, the pleasure of it sending you raring into bliss at full force like you’d just been slammed into a wall. It felt so fucking good, every hole stuffed with him, every muscle clenching and unclenching as he had the nerve to laugh at how easily you came from feeling a finger in your ass.

          “Heh, seems you like that, don’tcha?” He let you ride out the remnants of your orgasm for a few moments, fingers still and just feeling you contract around him.

          Finally, he worked on setting you free of his hold. He took his time with it, each finger sliding out of you painfully slow like he was slowly uncorking a pent-up bottle of champagne. With your mouth free first, you took your time breathing and gathering your wits, looking down into the floor as shame crept over your body. It was all so nasty and dirty, and when he pulled his fingers out from between your legs, you knew all you wanted was more of it.

          “Fuck,” you breathed, surprised when he lifted your chin and placed a rather chaste kiss against your messy mouth.

          “I take it you’ve never had somethin’ in your ass?”

          “N-no, but it…”

          “Feels good, yeah?”

          You shot him a suspicious look, “How would you know?”

          “I’ve been around, kid.”

          Kenny groaned as he sat back, moving you off his lap.

          “My knees are too fucking old for this. Get on the bed.”

          You didn’t know how you could. Your legs felt like pudding and your hands were completely numb behind your back. Kenny walked to the corner of the small bedroom, pulling his suspenders down so he could toss his shirt into the floor. You struggled to move, eyeing the knife in the floor carefully so you didn’t accidentally cut yourself as you fumbled like a little fawn gaining her legs.

          You enjoyed the feel of standing for a moment, leaning back against the wall in all your sloppy nakedness as you watched Kenny dip his hands into the wash bin.

          This was the last thing you expected when you woke up this morning. You’d been free, ready to get started on a cornbread and bean breakfast, only to be kidnapped before you could even lace up your shoes. Now you were watching Kenny Ackerman get undressed and hang that signature bowler hat on the back of the door.

          He looked better without the hat. In fact, he looked so much better naked.

          He had sun kissed skin on his arms and neck from working in the sun, lean sinews of muscle carved over his chest, his thighs. He was dusted in wiry black hair, like someone had taken ash from a fire and doused him in it. And his cock was hard and proud between his legs, long and curved up toward his stomach. Your ego spiked at the thought that you’d made him that way; you were the reason his swollen head was leaking and twitching.

          “Can I touch you now?”

          “What?” He looked puzzled, running a hand through his dark, shoulder length hair. It looked longer than when you last saw him.

          You moved toward him on still shaky legs, making a show of pulling at your hands bound behind your back.

          “Shit, I forgot you were tied up. But you gotta promise me when I cut you loose you ain’t just gonna sprint out that door.”

          “I don’t have any clothes, Kenny.”

          He laughed genuinely at that, scratching at the back of his neck. He’d have to remedy that tomorrow, go out and buy you something to wear so he didn’t parade you around town naked as the day you were born.

          You stayed still as he reached for that big knife of his on the floor, settling up behind you to start gnawing the blade through the thick rope. Your shoulders felt at ease when you felt the slack begin to set into your binds, the last bit of hemp audibly slicing away. You pulled your hands in front of you, immediately rubbing at the raw spots on your wrists. They’d be bruised tomorrow, scab over by the next day.

          Kenny wrapped his arms around you from behind, hands first skimming over your shoulders and upper arms.

          “If you didn’t have such a bad habit of runnin’, I wouldn’t have to do that to you, kid.”

          “You’d run away if you had my life, too.”

          You knew you didn’t need to fill in the blanks for him. He’d been around long enough to know the ins and outs of your story.

          “Suppose I would.”

          He kissed your neck as he walked you to the bed, turning you around so he could crawl up the naked expanse of your body as you laid back against the hay stuffed mattress.

          “Someone as pretty as you don’t deserve someone like me chasin’ after you.” But his confession didn’t stop him from settling between your thighs and bending down to suck one of your nipples into his eager mouth. You moaned, elated to have your hands free so you could tangle your fingers into his long hair.

          “I told you,” you gasped when he bit into your skin hard enough to leave marks, “I like the chase.”

          He licked a long, hot stripe between the valley of your breasts before bringing his face back to yours. You kept your hands in his hair as he leaned down to kiss you, all brute force and greedy tongue like you’d gotten used to before. You were just as hungry for him, your body feeling fresh and ripe after your orgasm and ready to be filled again. You bit at his lower lip, smirking when you got a reaction from him. Your tongue began to map the insides of his mouth, letting the taste of him overwhelm you.

          Kenny was impatient, gripping your hips and spreading you apart again.

          “I like you better when you’re submissive.” He murmured into your mouth, skilled fingers spreading your pussy so the fat head of his cock could rub against you.

          “I said I would be a good girl, daddy.”

          His head dropped to your shoulder with a groan, “I can’t fucking handle you calling me that, kid.”

          “Oh yeah? Is me calling you daddy going to make you cream early, old man?”

          He slid his cock inside of you rough and fast to shut you up. Your head fell farther back against the pillow as you mewled, his fingers still having not prepared you for the feel of his stretching you open. Your walls were snug against him; you could feel every throbbing vein under his silken skin dragging against your insides as he pulled out and pushed into you slowly.

          Each thrust had euphoria blooming from your stomach and spreading across all your extremities. It was like you could suddenly feel everything, the pleasure making the world around you sharpen. Kenny was breathing hotly into your neck, your nipples were painfully hard and sliding against the dark, downy hairs of his chest. Your fingers were coming back to life, your nails scraping against the greyed roots of his hair. Your toes were curling in the air, your thighs and hips burning from bearing the heaviness of Kenny between them. Both your heart and his were beating fast, blood pumping as if in the same drumline together.

          “Fuck you feel so fucking good,” he drawled, “s-so fucking soft, so tight.”

          Little sounds were leaving your parted lips, eyes struggling to stay open as each plunge of Kenny’s cock was engulfing you with ecstasy. He was starting to get a bit punishing with his movements, moving hard and fast inside of you and making you forget yourself. His nails were biting into the fatty flesh of your hips, where half-moon marks would surely adorn your skin in the morning. You’d have hickies on your neck too, especially now as he sunk his teeth into the tender spot where your throat met your shoulder.

          God it felt good to be used, to be wanted. And you knew Kenny wanted you, he’d even said he wanted to carve his name into your skin. Something inside of you told you that he’d want to own you, if you’d let him. You caught a lot of his longing gazes before, whether in the back of the saloon he frequented or the ridiculous dance halls your family drug you to. You’d often wondered if he would fuck you against a wall if you tempted him to, and now you had your long-awaited answer.

          “Oh daddy,” you purred, both purposely and not, little oh’s and mhm’s following behind.

          The name spurred Kenny into a new gait. He shifted back onto his knees swiftly, the same hand from before resuming its chokehold on your neck. You moaned at the familiar contact, the sound trapped behind his spread fingers. He had more power behind his hips from this angle, sending his cock deeper into your depths and into places his long fingers couldn’t reach from before. Your eyes squeezed shut, tiny gasps all that could be formed behind the wall of his hand.

          “Who knew you were such a little slut, darlin. Might keep you around after all.”

          Your tits were bouncing in rhythm with his relentless assault, your hands now fisting into the feather pillow next to your face.

          “F-fucking shit, I—” you were going stupid, is what you were. Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and your brain felt foggy in your head.

          “You’ve got such a dirty mouth on ya,” Kenny put more pressure behind the fist around your neck, the lack of oxygen making it even harder to think than before, “you really do need a daddy to teach you some, fuck, s-some fucking manners.”

          All you could do was nod, completely lost to the feeling of him encompassing you, filling you.

          His free hand pulled at one of your limp legs, hoisting it up and over his shoulder. He smothered your skin with wet kisses, nipping at your ankle and chuckling when he felt the bubbled squeal beneath his palm. The hair on his torso tickled the back of your thigh, adding a new layer of sensation that you didn’t think you could handle. It was too much—Kenny was too much, fucking into you like a feral beast that just got his first taste of sweet flesh.

          “You’re never gettin’ away from me again,” he hissed out between gritted teeth, “you’re mine now.”

          You couldn’t think to respond. Kenny unwrapped his hand from your throat, letting that blood flow return to your head.

          “You hear me?”

          You opened your mouth to speak, but no sound came out. All you could focus on was the drumming of his cock hitting your insides, the wet, squelching sounds of your pussy sucking him in.

          The sound of him slapping his hand across your check registered before the pain did. You gasped as your head swung with the force, the side of your face smarting with a throbbing sting.  

          “Say you’re mine, kid.” Seriousness laced his tone, those dangerous, long fingers grasping at your jaw and pulling you to look at him. He leaned forward, curling your leg with him, making you groan at the pleasure and pain mixing as he tested your flexibility. He kept moving inside of you, pace never faltering.

          “Fucking. Say. It.”

          Your heart was racing with adrenaline, a strange concoction of fear and bliss spreading over your consciousness.

          “Y-yours,” you croaked out, wetting your lips with your tongue, “I’m yours, Kenny!”

          You didn’t mean to scream it, but it seemed to please him, that lecherous grin of his spreading over his lips.

          “That’s fucking right. I own this tight, pretty little pussy.”

          He released your jaw only to slap you again, quicker and softer this time, and you moaned the moment he made contact.

          “You like getting slapped around?”

          You turned your face back to him, smirking through the sting, “yes, daddy.”

          The devilishness that swirled in his eyes made your stomach flip. He paused the movements of his hips, letting your cunt flutter and clench at his stilled cock. Your breathing picked up as you registered what was about to happen.

          Kenny hit you with the back of his hand this time, bony knuckles thumping with the quick flick of his wrist. Without his cock moving inside of you, all you could do was bask in the stinging pain left behind on your cheeks. It felt so wrong, but it made the coil in your belly tighten like never before.

          “F-fuck,” you moaned, your balled fists releasing the pillow.

          Without a second thought, you grabbed at his hair, jerking him down to meet your mouth.

          “You better cum inside me after that, daddy, I think I deserve it.”

          “Oh, you deserve it darlin,” he started pumping inside of you again, sending your head flying back and his mouth landing on the pulse of your neck, “gonna fill you to the fucking brim.”

          His movements were cruel, fast, cock ramming inside of you so harshly that you felt it all the way in your throat. Your hand slipped from his hair and found purchase on his back, nails scraping against sweaty flesh. You could feel his rough skin splitting, but you didn’t care, all that mattered anymore was the way his cock slid in between your gummy walls, the way he was moaning your name like a fucking prayer against your skin.

          Kenny’s thumb found your clit, swirling quick, brutal circles over your swollen bud. You could feel yourself clench around him, the sharp pleasure almost painful. You were going to explode. You were going to topple over in ecstasy and it was all because of the wickedness of the dirty old man inside of you.

          “K-Kenny, holy f-fucking god, I-I—”

          He must have felt it before you did. Hot ropes of cum were seeping inside of you the moment you hit the high point of orgasm. Your nails slid down the entirety of his back, slim, warm rivulets of blood following in their wake.

          It was like the bliss never ended. You were caught in the waves of it, each one cresting and falling over and over again as you milked his cock dry, slick and cum pooling between your thighs and soaking the linens.

          Your heart was hammering in your chest. Kenny placed a delicate hand between your breasts, like he was trying to slow it down for you. His small act made the world narrow in around you; the remnants of stinging pain and excruciating pleasure still hummed, but you fell into the quiet of just listening to the two of you breath for a few moments.

          Eventually, your toes went numb. You’d fully forgotten the poor leg that had been curled over his shoulder. You shifted to move, and Kenny got the hint, finally pulling his spent cock from inside of you and rolling over on his back.

          “Shit,” he hissed through his teeth, hand reaching over his shoulder as he met the mattress, “you’ve got fucking claws.”

          You had half a mind to apologize, but you didn’t bother, still basking in the afterglow of sex. Your body was tired, wrists still aching, thighs shaking.

          “You alright?” A warm hand found your cheek, even hotter lips pressing to yours in a soft kiss.

          “Mhm, more than alright.”

          “Didn’t know you had that in you, kid.”

          Kenny pulled you into his chest, long arm curling around your back. His fingers traced soft, swirling patterns on your hip, and you nearly shuddered as you remembered those were the same movements he’d used to abuse your clit. You curled one of your legs over his, needing to get closer, those pesky after-sex hormones and needs clawing at your instincts.

          It felt oddly like home to be pressed up against him, your face against his chest, one of your hands mimicking his and drawing circling in his damp chest hair. He smelled like home, anyways, like earth and spices.

          “You gonna take me home?”

          He was quiet for a second, pressing his lips into your hairline.

          “Nah, I’ll take you someplace safe. Maybe buy you a fucking train ticket so you can get out of this part of the world.”

          “You sure you don’t want to keep me?”

          “Now don’t fucking tempt me with that, kid.”

          “I wouldn’t mind being yours, you know.”

          “You don’t wanna be mine, even if I make you say that shit when I’m fuckin’ you.”

          You knew he was right, but you didn’t offer him an affirmation.

          Maybe you’d let him fuck you for a few more days before you ventured off on your own, maybe you’d convince him to chase you down a few more times just for the thrill of it. Maybe you’d wrap your fists around his suspenders and convince him to run away with you.

          You did like Kenny, after all. Even if he was such a perverted, disgusting old man.

[enchantestuff]

hatred - Charles Leclerc

I think I might make this into a mini series with an enemies to civil with each other to friends to lovers kind of vibe but I'm still not sure, anyways here's Charles x reader wanting to rip each others throats but instead end up ripping each others clothes off

gonna dedicate this to the lovely @yungbludz​ happy birthday <33

GIF NOT MINE

warnings; smut as per usual, Charles being very egotistical, choking, language, enjoy <3

2k words 

part two

It was safe to say you and Charles hated each other. You knew hate was a strong word, but you also knew that you felt nothing but hatred for the man. You hated his cocky smile and the fact that everyone seemed to be obsessed with him. You also hated the fact that you had to spend the whole weekend with him.

You worked for Ferrari, meaning that, unfortunately, you had to spend a lot of time with Charles. You were actually excited when you first got the job of being Charles Leclerc's PR manager. You had admired the driver and couldn’t wait to work alongside him, but that all changed once you actually met him and realised what an ass he really was. Everyone else loved him, of course, because he seemed to be nice to every single person on the planet except you.

You and a select number of the Ferrari team had been invited to a special charity event taking place in the ballroom of a luxurious hotel. You had all decided to check into the hotel the day before the event, in order to save time and familiarise yourself with the venue. Of course, according to your job description, you also had to run through the possible questions Charles could be asked with him.

Although Charles loathed you, he had to admit you were good at your job and managed to prepare him for every possible scenario, which is why he hadn’t begged Mattia to fire you, at least not yet.

You sighed as you reached the check in desk, all you wanted to do was flop onto the hotel bed and sleep until the morning. You gave the lady behind the desk your name and watched as she quickly typed on the computer in front of her. “Ah yes, Y/N and Charles, room 506”

Your eyes widened at her words as you shook your head. “No no, that can’t be right” you pleaded as you leaned your arms against the counter.

“Im sorry ma'am, but the booking is for the both of you” she explained with apologetic eyes as she handed you the room key.

“Take your time, Y/N. Not like we aren’t all exhausted from our long trip” you heard Charles scold from behind you. You quickly turned around and shoved the room key into his chest.

“Politetly, go fuck yourself, Leclerc” you muttered as you shouldered past him and walked straight to Mattia on the other side of reception. Mattia sighed once you walked over and gestured for you to begin arguing with him, he knew it was going to happen.

“Why? Why would you stick me in a room with that-that imbecile!” you snapped.

“Listen, Y/N, i know how much you dislike him and vice versa, but everyone had to be paired with someone and I thought this was the best option for you both” he explained with a soothing voice.

“Why do I have to be with her?” you heard Charles ask from behind you. You felt small standing in front of him, his broad frame practically trapping you between him and Mattia.

“Y/N is your PR manager, it's her job to prepare you for this event” Mattia once again calmly explained

“And she couldn’t do that over breakfast?” Charles inquired, you could feel his tense gaze on the back of your head and you whipped around scoffing at him as you placed your hands on his hips.

“Don’t act like this was my idea! Not everyone wants to share a room with you Charles, get your head out of your ass”

Charles opened his mouth to throw a rude remark your way but Mattia stopped him before he got the chance. “The both of you are sharing this room, whether you like it or not. I think everyone would prefer if you took this time to sort out your problems instead of bickering like children. I’ll see you both at breakfast. Goodnight,” he scolded as he walked off with his luggage in tow.

You felt your cheeks redden as embarrassment creeped up your shoulders. “Are you trying to get me fired?” you accused Charles as you grabbed your own luggage and made way for the elevator.

He shrugged in response, “Wouldn’t be the worst thing” he muttered, stepping inside with you. You pressed your floor number and sighed in frustration. “Can you stop breathing so loud?” he groaned, rolling his eyes.

“It was a sigh, dipshit.”

“Trust me, i don't want to be near you as much as you don't want to be near me”

“Glad we're on the same page” you replied, stepping out of the elevator and storming to your room, which in hindsight was a foolish idea as Charles had the key and you had to wait for him as he took his sweet time walking up the hallway.

He unlocked the door with a smug look on his face and stepped in before you, dropping his luggage on the floor as he surveyed the room. “You have got to be kidding me” he complained once he saw the double bed in the middle of the room.

“Oh what is it now, Charles?” you asked as you shut the door behind you “is the carpet not to your liking? Is it too bright? Are there no chocolates on the pillow” you continued and slipped off your shoes, “do you want me to - oh shit” you cursed as you saw the predicament you both were in. “Looks like you're sleeping on the floor” you shrugged whilst walking towards the bed.

“I am NOT sleeping on the floor,” Charles complained.

“What? And you think I am?” you argued, once again placing your hands on your hips.

“I don’t see why not,” he commented, crossing his arms across his chest.

“I am not sharing a bed with you, Leclerc! So you,” you jabbed a finger at his chest, “are going to have to step off your mighty throne and take the gentleman approach and sleep,” jab “on,” jab “the floor,” you snapped.

Charles raised his eyebrow as he stared at you. You could cut the tension between the two of you with a knife, it was almost unbearable. You had never fought this long, somebody had always interrupted you both before you got the chance to really push each other's buttons. “I'm going to say this nice and slow, sweetheart,” Charles growled, taking a step forward, you in turn took a step back as you removed your finger from his chest, “I’ll take the high road, we can share the bed just this once, as long as you stop acting like the spoiled princess that you will never be” he continued to walk towards you as he spoke and you were eventually trapped against the wall.

Charles moved his hand to lie on the wall next to your head, the distance between the two of you becoming smaller and smaller by the second. “I might be ready to step off my throne but are you ready to be a good girl and step off yours too?” he concluded. 

“Bite me, Charles” you retorted and something in the both of you snapped as you grabbed his face in your hands and he roughly grabbed your waist. Your lips violently pressed against his as your tongues practically fought against each other. You almost moaned at the force of his kiss, but refused to give him the satisfaction.

Charles pulled away, giving your mouth a final short kiss before he moved to mark your neck. “Come on, princess. Stop being stubborn for once in your life and let me hear the noises that you can make''

You however kept your mouth shut, Charles smirked and shrugged his shoulders. “If that's how you want to play it,” he smirked before gently grabbing your breast and slipping his hands into the waistband of your leggings. He rubbed circles on your clit as he pinched your nipples. “I want to hear you, sweetheart,” he grunted.

You rolled your eyes back in pleasure and involuntarily let out a moan. Charles felt his dick twitch in his pants and cockily grinned as he kissed right under your nose. “Good girl,” he whispered. It wasn't long before his trousers were discarded as well as your own leggings. You hadn’t moved however and were still pressed up against the wall. “Are you sure you want this?” he asked and although you felt your heart skip a beat you rolled your eyes at him and nodded.

“Yes, please just - just hurry up” you squirmed against the wall. That seemed to be all the validation he needed. He slowly put a condom on before easing into you. You scrunched your eyes at the uncomfortable feeling and tapped him to move. Your lips parting on their own accord as the feeling was replaced with pure pleasure. Charles forcefully grabbed your legs and wrapped them around his waist, providing him with a better angle for both himself and you.

“O-oh shit” you moaned as you scraped your nails down his shoulders to his arms, which left harsh red marks in their wake. Charles moaned at the feeling and you were almost aroused by the sound. Almost.

One of Charles hands were digging into the soft flesh of your thigh while the other moved to wrap itself around your neck, his signature pinky ring digging into the flesh of your skin causing you to mimic his actions and let out a moan at the pain.

“You like that?” he grunted as he continued to thrust into you, lightly placing some pressure on your throat, not enough to suffocate you, he didn't hate you that much, but enough for you to enter a state of pure bliss.

“I hate you, Leclerc” you found yourself muttering but you certainly did not hate him at that very moment.

“Feelings mutual, love”

You continued to scrape your nails across his back, desperate to pull more moans out of him. Charles however, didn't like being the only vulnerable one and removed his hands from your throat, he grabbed both of your hands in his own and shoved them upwards, beginning his assault on your chest.

Your toes curled as he hit all the right spaces, you knew you were close but you really didn’t want to be the first one to let go. Charles could feel the clenching of your walls and smirked into your chest. “Are you close, princess?” he asked, bringing his mouth to your lips and for some reason you found yourself kissing him back.

“No” you blatantly lied.

You moved your head closer to him when he pulled away but he refused to connect your lips once more and you found yourself pouting at the lack of attention. God, how pathetic had you become.

“Now, i knew you were a spoiled brat but i didn't take you for a liar as well”

“Glad to know your ego has no off moments, Charles” you scoffed and were about to start an argument before he began slowly pounding into you, his precise thrusts made it extremely difficult to formulate a sentence let alone hold onto the knot in your stomach. So, against your brain telling you not to, you let go.

You would have fallen onto the ground if it wasn’t for Charles' strong grip trapping you against the wall and his own body. The noises that he made as he reached his own high caused your heart to flutter in your chest and you began to wonder if having sex with him was a bad idea.

“Are you okay?” he asked after he had pulled away from you. You nodded your head as you furrowed your eyebrows

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” you asked.

You were surprised the both of you were capable of having a normal conversation, but you supposed nothing could be normal between you after that.

Charles gently ran a finger across your neck and by the look on his face you knew you looked worse for wear. “I kind of lost myself in the moment, I’m sorry if I hurt you. Really I am” he clarified.

“Its okay” you sighed as you rubbed your neck, “lets just go to sleep”

“I’m still not sleeping on the floor”

“Just stay on your side of the bed, Leclerc”

[hpimaginesandblurbs]

Can you do a maurder smut please 🥺? I absolutely love them! Thank you love 😘😘!!

pairing: young!remus lupin x reader

warning(s): 18+ only, smut, unprotected sex (please wrap it before you tap it), praise kink, slight degradation (if you squint) 

word count: 1.6k 

a/n: i also love the marauders. my little broken babies. if you like fanfic, please go read ‘debt of time’ by ShayaLonnie and/or ‘all the young dudes’ by MsKingBean89 (both on AO3). both of them are super long and super good. i cried reading both

The full moon was fast approaching and you could tell Remus was on edge this month. You could see it in the way he held himself during dinner, stiff as a board and positively tense. The way he forced himself to chuckle at James and Siruis’ dumb jokes, when usually he would be joining right in with them. The way he forced himself into polite conversation with Peter, Lily, Mary or whoever else felt like chatting with him.

But you could especially tell because of the way he had a possessive death grip on your thigh all throughout dinner. It was like he couldn’t seem to get himself to loosen up or remove his grip. It seemed like it was the only thing keeping him stable in the moment.

It didn’t happen often, but some months in the lead up to the full moon, Remus would be on edge. When it did happen, it could always go one of two ways. He’d either be irritable and anxious or he’d be absolutely possessive and, well, there was no other word for it besides feral. This month seemed like it was turning into the latter.

That was only confirmed to you when, after dinner, he wasted no time in dragging you up to his dormitory and pinning you against the door. He locked you in a ferocious kiss, mostly tongue and teeth, while his pelvis ground against yours.

When he pulled away, you could see nothing but lust, possession, and danger in his eyes. With his forehead resting against yours he whispered, “Y/N, I don’t want to hurt you.”

You knew it was his way of asking, no, begging, for permission to let lose tonight. To get all of this pent up energy and emotion out of his system before the full moon came.

“You know I like it when you get rough,” you replied, a small smirk on your face to let him know he had full permission to do as he pleased.

“Y/N,” he whined out, his hips stuttering for a moment before making eye contact again. “You’re gonna be the death of me.” 

Next thing you knew, you were being hoisted in the air with his hands firmly placed on the backs of your thighs and being carried over to his four poster bed. He used all of the control he had left to place you onto the bed before he climbed in over you. 

You found yourself in another heated kiss while clothes rapidly came off. There was nothing slow or graceful about the way either of you were moving, it was simply just raw need consuming the both of you. 

When you were finally naked underneath him, he pulled himself away to look down at you. His eyes raked over you hungrily and he ran his tongue along his bottom lip as he took you in. 

“Can you stay quiet for me?” He asked, a hand coming up to trail along your thighs as it slowly made it’s way to your core. “Or do I need to cast a silencing charm? I’d rather hate it if anyone heard what’s mine.” 

You opened your mouth to reply, but all the air drained from your lungs in a breathy moan when his finger trailed up your slit and moved directly to your clit. “Fuck,” you whimpered, unable to control the noises that were already leaving you. 

“I’ve barely even touched you and you’re already this wet? And already this loud?” He asked almost mockingly, but he diligently picked up his wand and cast a silent charm around the room to ensure no one would hear you but him. “All this for me?” He continued, an eyebrow raised as he hovered above you, his fingers never once straying from your drenched core. 

“All for you, Remus. I’m all yours,” you replied softly. And in a bold move that you knew would only spur him on, you continued. “Use me, take me, please.” 

It was him then that couldn’t stop the groan that spilled from his lips or the way his hard cock twitched against your thigh, wetting the flesh with precum. 

Without even a warning, he ripped his hand away from your center and moved to align his cock with your entrance. He took a moment to steady himself as he rubbed the tip of himself along your clit, sending spark after spark of pleasure through your body. 

“Are you gonna be good for me tonight, love? Gonna take me like the good girl I know you are and scream my name?” He asked, just the tip of him inside you now gently thrusting in and out - taunting you. 

You could only nod your head in return, too distracted by the anticipation of his thick cock finally being pushed inside of you, too frustrated by what he was currently doing to properly form words. 

“Use your words,” he said gently, a complete juxtaposition from his body language that oozed raw dominance. 

It was moments like these that left you in awe of your boyfriend. He was usually so quiet, so controlled, so reserved. Especially compared to his more unruly friends. But he when he had you alone like this, hovering over you in bed, in complete control of your mind and your body, he was a force to be reckoned with. And then only left you even more wet for him. 

“Please, Re. I think I need it as bad as you do right now,” you finally managed to pull yourself just enough to form once sentence. 

And that one sentence was all it took for Remus to fully sheath himself inside of you, his thick cock stretching you out and forcing you to let out a high moan.

“Oh, darling, you definitely don’t need it as bad as I do right now,” he half argued with a smirk on his face as he watched the way your own contorted in pleasure. And with that last sentiment, he kicked off. 

He was thrusting in and out of you so harshly that the bed was slamming up against the wall repeatedly and both of your bodies were moving inch by inch up the bed until he used one arm to brace himself against the headboard. 

Neither of you could contain the animalistic noises falling from your lips, the both of you too lost in pleasure to try to stop it. You hands slowly found their way to grip his back, your nails harshly digging into his flesh enough to make him grunt into your neck. But he never let up, so neither did you. 

“You’re so fucking tight. Like a fucking vice around me. Nothing could ever feel as good as you darling,” he blurted out in between thrusts, just wanting to let you know exactly how good you were being for him. “Turn over,” he added suddenly, his cock leaving your body as he waited for you to follow his command. 

You did so with ease and positioned yourself exactly how he liked, almost like you were offering your body up to him. Your ass was up in front of him, exposing everything to him, back completely arched, so far down your breasts were rubbing up against his sheets, and you placed yourself face down into the mattress. This position gave him full access to you and gave you zero control. But that was exactly how it needed to be right now. 

“Look at my pretty little whore,” he mused to himself as he ran the tip of his cock along your slit again. You couldn’t really see him from your angle, but you could see the shit eating grin he had on his face. 

And just like that he was back inside of you, his thick cock forcing your back to arch further as you fought to relax to take it in. From this angle you could feel everything - every vein, every ridge, every glorious inch. It was like magic. 

Remus leaned over you, his chest connected to your back, caging you in with his body and arms. He held you in place while he absolutely wrecked you, the moans from both of you only growing louder and louder by the thrust. 

You could feel yourself getting closer and closer, your body shaking and your mouth spilling a steady string of expletives. Remus, ever observant, noticed it right away. He trailed a finger down your body and to your clit, a guttural moan forcing its way from your throat at the action. 

“Cum for me. Cum for me and scream,” he spoke lowly into your ear, the breath hot against the side of your face. It was quite possibly one of the most erotic things you’ve ever heard come out of him just by the way he said it. 

And you did just what he wanted, your body fully under his command. Your core clenched around him tightly as you came and a scream of his name fell from your lips just in time for his own release. You could feel his cum fill you up, only prolonging your bliss as he worked you both through the end. 

You both stayed like that for a moment, silent but for your panting breaths and completely still in his arms that had never left you. Finally he pulled out, an unexpected whimper coming from you at the sudden emptiness, but he just chuckled as he sat down at the end of the bed. 

“Don’t move yet,” he said softly and you did. You could feel his cum dripping out of you and down your legs, knowing that was exactly what he wanted to see. “You look so good filled with me,” he admitted, his hands running up and down the backs of your thighs as he simply watched, in awe of you. 

You could practically feel it in the air that he was satiated and much calmer now. At least for tonight. 

[sirthisisa-wendys]

hello! i’ve read your works for tokyo revengers, and i fell in love with how you write them. can i request hanma taking his gf virginity? i keep thinking about it for the whole week... thank you in advance, have a good day!!

Indisposable: Shuji Hanma x Fem!Reader

wc: 1.1k

tw: NSFW

masterlist

song recommendation:

"You're such a sweet girl," Shuji whispers into your ear as you grind against him. "So good for me." Your hands rest against his, which are holding onto your waist with a vice-like grip.

"Shuji..." you moan, leaning back to find his lips. "Shuji, I want to go."

"Hm? Something wrong?"

"No," you whisper, looking into his orange eyes. "I just want to make out with you without all of your men watching." Shuji looks over your shoulder and laughs a little at the observant eyes of his men roaming around the room.

"Good thinking, babe."

_____________________________________________________________

Shuji throws the apartment door open as soon as he climbs the stairs - two at a time - and pulls you into the living room, attacking your neck with his lips and holding you against his body. You press your lips against his exposed chest and worm your hands around his hips and down to his belt, moaning into his mouth.

"Shuji, I want you," you whisper as you both tumble into his bed. "I want to..." Shuji pulls back from you, his eyes roaming your face.

He'd been waiting for a moment like this, perhaps waiting forever to touch you like he wanted to, but he knew that you were delicate - fragile, even - and that you would break under his touch if he pressed you too hard.

"Tell me what you want," he urges you, lifting his head up while looking at your lips. "Say it, and I'll make it happen."

"I want to know what it's like..." Your hands press against his jeans and the hard-on that's stringing through his pants. "I want to try at least." Shuji inhales deeply, then presses his fingers to your face.

"Are you sure? We don't have to, and I'm not pressuring you to do anything you don't want to." You nod, pecking his lips and unbuckling his belt.

"I'm sure." You sink to your knees slowly, but Shuji utters a gentle "whoa" and pulls you back up to his face.

"I'll be taking care of you tonight." Your entire body is on fire as he undresses you, skillfully pulling your bra off and sliding your back onto the bed once he's done. One hand finds your left breast while the right breast is stimulated by his tongue, the long muscle flicking and sucking on your soft skin.

"Jesus, Hanma," you breathe, running your fingers through his wavy hair. "That feels incredible."

"Hmmm..." he mumbles, tugging on your nipple sharply before moving to the other one.

Everything in you is rolling with lust, eyes hooded as Shuji takes his time with you and pulls you to a place of submission you've never been to before. "Shuji..."

He looks up at you while kissing down your stomach, then raising your legs up around his shoulders. Shuji says nothing before his tongue touches your clit, but you cry out to make up for the silence. All bets are off as he goes to work against your slit, eating you out - which is a first for you. You'd always gotten up to heavy petting and stopped, but you'd never let yourself be devoured by him. Punishment dips into your core and Shuji lets his fingers work inside of you while his tongue laps at your clit with small, quick strokes. But sin holds you open for him, pressing against your thighs so hard that you feel like your leg might break at the hip if he didn't let up.

Your arousal makes sounds you're almost too embarrassed to hear, but Shuji seems to love the sounds, praising you with grunts and moans into your pussy.

"Sh-Shuji..." You grind your hips against his face and he responds with a long groan, relishing in the feeling of your clit rubbing against the tip of his nose. "Shuji... I'm gonna... I feel like I might explode," you admit, and he quickens his fingers and tongue, orange eyes looking straight at your face as your eyes roll into the back of your head.

And that makes him so hard.

You grunt his name, then drag your inhale in, hoping he would allow you to breathe for a moment, but Shuji doesn't allow you to do a single thing, flipping you onto his chest and making you straddle him.

"You're going to take it at your pace." You almost don't realize what he's saying until he touches your slit with his cockhead. "Take it as slow as you need." He grips his cock at the base, and you slide over his length a few times, then try to lower yourself onto him with care. When you begin to feel the stretching, you exhale and lift off of him a little. "Breathe..." Shuji reminds you, gripping your right arm with his left as you steady yourself. You inhale, then lower back down, trying to push past the sting as he lifts his hips to meet yours. You get halfway down before you raise back up, hissing softly and closing your eyes.

"Shuji, I--"

"You want me to take control?" he wonders, touching your cheek with the back of his knuckles.

"Yes." A broad hand presses you against his white shirt, and Shuji slowly works his thick cock inside of you, holding your hips in his hands as he guides you up and down.

"Feels good?"

"Feels good," you affirm, holding onto his forearm and moaning as he thrusts into you with slow strokes. Before long, you feel confident enough to catch a rhythm and your hips bounce in time with his, skin slapping against skin. Shuji lets out a shudder-filled sigh, and you glance up at his blissed-out face.

"So... damn tight. Shit." His lips connect with yours and you hum as he speeds up again, tongue sliding into and searching your mouth eagerly.

"Oh," you whine, feeling something building again. "Shuji, I'm gonna cum again."

"Go ahead and cum all over my cock," he encourages you, smiling a little. "You deserve to feel it." He presses you up to a seated position and grabs your breasts again, sliding in and out of you while he fondles them. Your legs begin to quiver, and he gasps as you cum, the tightness of your walls fluttering around his length startling him so bad that he can't hold himself back.

"Oh, y/n..."

Shuji cums right after you, cock twitching in your pussy fiercely. You both slump against each other in the chilly bedroom, panting as if you had just run a race.

"How was it?" Shuji croaks, and you flutter your lashes at him while you answer:

"I loved it. Truly. Thank you, Shu."

"Anything for my baby," he whispers, running a hand up your back and sighing as he drifts off to sleep with you against his chest, where his heart is doing tapdances around itself as you snuggle into him.