#The Sun stars and deep space | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

preciosapascal · 5 months ago

Text

Sleepless Nights

Summary: another sleepless night in jackson for both you and your neighbour Joel.

Warnings: MINORS DNI 18+, NSFW, alcohol consumption, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), pinv, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, pet names, fingering, pussy pronouns

Word count: 3.4k

Pairing: Jackson!Joel x f!reader

A/N: thank you guys for so much love on my first post last week!! <3 (that you can read here) I’m trying to get through my drafts because I have far too many. Ty again, feedback is appreciated 💝

Reading a book in front of the fire every night was becoming overwhelmingly tedious. You've read the books you have from cover to cover so many times you could probably read them with your eyes closed.

And then one night a month or so ago, you decided to sit on your porch in the middle of the night and saw your neighbour Joel on his. It quickly became a sort of habit for the two of you. Talking til the sun comes up a few nights a week.

Tonight’s no different. Tossing and turning in bed, books boring you half to death, the sound of the fire crackling becoming somewhat annoying at this point, so you step outside.

Joel's already out there, a glass of whiskey in hand, and staring up at the night sky. His head turns as you open your door, a hint of a smile on his lips.

"Here she is. Can’t sleep again?” he asks, though he knows the answer.

As soon as his raspy voice reaches your ears, your skin prickles with goosebumps and it's not because of the cold breeze.

"Can I ever?" you reply, scoffing a laugh quietly.

He lets out a soft hum in response, nodding in agreement. "Nah, me neither recently." he sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “What’s keepin’ ya up tonight then, darlin’?”

"I have no idea, it's driving me crazy." you sigh, wrapping your plaid blanket over your shoulders a little tighter and sitting on the old used-to-be white wooden chair on your porch.

He hums in agreement, seemingly a man of few words tonight. He silently observes you as you sit down before speaking again.

“You tried countin’ sheep?” He quips, taking another sip of whiskey.

“and the pigs and the horses and every other fuckin’ animal on that damn ark.” you mutter, scooting the chair sideways to face him better.

He can’t help the gruff laugh that escapes him, shaking his head. It makes you smile as you wrap the blanket tighter around your shoulders when a cool breeze runs through you. A brief silence falls, but it’s comfortable.

"Can't remember the last time I slept through the night. Been a long damn time." he admits, exhaling softly from his lips and shifting in his seat on the bench, resting his free arm over the back. "it's a nice night, though."

You nod with a small smile and look up at the night sky, taking in the stars and the deep blue colour. "Yeah. Makes a change from what’s happening outside these gates.”

He looks over at you as you take in the beautiful sky above you. Every damn time he looks at you, it drives him almost insane. He turns his head forward, swallowing.

"Did you wanna-" the words escape Joel's lips before he can think about them first, leaving him staring straight ahead for a second. When he glances at you he's met with a nod, urging him to continue. He hesistates for a moment but decides to run with it.

"-wanna...join me?" he finishes, nodding towards the empty space on the bench beside him and the bottle of whiskey on the floor.

Every time you've done this, you've been on your respective porches that're directly next to each other. The prospect of getting closer to him makes your tummy flutter.

You nod softly as you rise from the wooden chair and step down your porch steps, boots crunching in the blanket of snow that’s fallen for what seems like weeks, and up the steps of his porch before sitting next to him, the old bench creaking softly.

Joel looks at you as you sit down. The thought of having you this close crossed his mind a few times as you spoke till the early hours.

Seeing the moonlight touch your skin, the way you wrapped yourself up in the plaid blanket, you were just the sweetest thing he’d ever seen.

You could feel the warmth of his body against your side, making you want to wrap yourself around him. He holds up the bottle of whiskey, in your direction.

You take the bottle from his hand and swig it, letting the amber liquid warm you up on it's way down.

He takes the bottle back from you when you offer it to him, also drinking from the bottle since his glass is now empty. He wipes his bottom lip with his thumb and leans forward with his elbows on his knees.

You both relish in comfortable silence again for a little while, sharing the bottle of whiskey. You realise something feels different. Like a shift of energy.

When Joel eventually sits back, you rest your head on his shoulder. He looks down at you, shocked at first but enjoying the feeling, and rests his arm on the bench behind you. He could smell the vanilla from the soap you use and it took all his strength not to bury his nose in the crook of your neck right there.

Your head on his shoulder and the weight of your body against his was both simultaneously soothing, and incredibly torturous. For weeks, he’s spent countless hours of the night talking to you. He loved listening to the sound of your voice, making him wonder what it would sound like to hear you whispering his name.

What you don’t know, is whenever you go back inside, he spends the night fisting his cock in his bed, imagining being buried inside of you. And what he doesn’t know is you’ve let your hands wander in the early hours, imagining his huge hands all over you, fingers inside you, mouth on your cunt…

It didn't take long until both of you had nearly finished half the bottle of whiskey and with each passing second, Joel's guard was lowered more and more. The buzz he was beginning to feel was only adding to his internal struggle.

He glances in your direction again; studying the relaxed look on your face. His self restraint was quickly becoming non-existent.

Without thinking, he suddenly raises his hand, slowly running his fingers through your hair and tucking a strand behind your ear. The small gesture, combined with the soft look in his eyes made your thighs squeeze together.

And, it didn’t go unnoticed.

He feels the way you shift against him when he does that, sees the way you squeeze your thighs together. How could he not? Joel lets out a shaky exhale, his free hand flexing on his thigh.

You notice his hand on his thigh, as if he’s itching to do something with it and you snap.

“Joel…” you speak, the breathy tone unintentional.

Joel nearly chokes. The way you just spoke his name, he’s never seen you like this. His hand stops in your hair, fingers curling slightly in the soft locks. You’re already looking up at him as his eyes roam down to your face.

Even in the dim light of his porch, Joel can see the lust in your eyes, realsing they must be mirroring his own. It ignites something inside of him, his hand moving from your hair to wrap around the side of your throat. His thumb brushing along your neck.

“Please kiss me.” you whisper, not caring how desperate you sound.

Joel was a strong man, but he was only human and even he could only handle so much. Hearing those words from your lips, in that voice, he was fucked. His fingers trail from your throat to the nape of your neck as he pulls you in for a kiss.

You’re unsure how it happened, but one minute you’re making out on the porch and the next you’re straddling his lap on his couch. Your boots and blanket on the floor in the hall.

Joel’s hands slide to your hips, gripping them tightly, his lips traveling to your jawline and down to your neck. “Mmdarlin’-” he mumbles against your skin, nipping and sucking at the sensitive flesh.

You gasp quietly and instinctively roll your hips as his hand slides up your shirt, fingers splayed over your ribs, thumb brushing the underside of your right breast.

He groans at the sudden movement of your hips, his own bucking up in response. “S’all it takes, huh?” He murmurs, continuing to kiss and nip your neck with his hand up your shirt. “Few kisses from me and you’re a mess, ain’t that right, darlin’?”

Fuck, he was so right. You’re soaked already and he’s barely fucking touched you. A pathetic “yes” is all you can muster. You can’t get enough of him, hands roaming over his broad shoulders, fingers straying to thread through the greying curls at the nape of his neck while still rolling your hips.

He moans low in his throat when your fingers brush against the back of his neck, his eyes falling shut. “Shit-” Joel murmurs, his hands moving from your hip and side to grasp them hem of your shirt.

His eyes are still closed at the sensation as he blindly pulls your shirt off of you. He opens them to discard your shirt somewhere behind him and sucks in a sharp breath when he looks back to you.

“Fuckin’ Christ…” he whispers before pulling you closer to kiss along your collarbone. His kisses move lower and his hand pulls one of the cups of your bra down, then he flicks his tongue against your nipple.

“Oh-” you gasp softly, hand trialing up to his curls once again. A low moan escapes him at the taste of you and he continues for a little while before moving to the other one, giving it the same attention.

While his mouth is occupied by your chest, his hands travel over your body, resting on your ass and encouring you to grind on him a little harder.

“Tha’s it, baby.” he rasps against your skin as you grind yourself down on him harder. He reaches one hand from your ass to unclasp your bra.

Baby baby baby. It echoes in your head like a beautiful symphony. You want to hear him to say it over and over again.

When your bra falls away, he throws it aside with your shirt and then kisses up the valley between your tits, his hands coming up to cup and squeeze them gently before kissing up the side of your neck and back to your lips.

You kiss him back, your fingers pulling at the buttons of his shirt, trying to undo them. When they’re undone, you push it off of his shoulders. He’s so hot.

He taps you, signalling you to stand up and when you do, he pulls you closer by your belt loop. “C’mere.”

He starts unbuttoning your jeans and yanks them off your legs, leaving you in only your panties. His eyes zero in in the damp patch, then he turns you around you pulls you onto his lap, your back against his chest and his thighs spreading yours wider.

You want to protest that you can’t see him until his hands trail over your thighs. One comes up to hold you against him by your stomach and the other slips into the front of your panties, making you gasp. His index and middle finger tips tease you, running lightly over your folds.

He’s teasing you, and he’s enjoying every second with his smug ass grin against your neck. “Look at you.” he coos, “she’s achin’ for it, baby.” he whispers, resting his chin on your shoulder as his fingers move further down, collecting your arousal before using it to rub your needy clit.

“Shit…Joel…” you whimper, as his fingers rub tight circles against you.

“I know baby, I know.” he says between more kisses and nips to your shoulder. “you just keep on makin’ them pretty sounds, hm?”

His fingers rub a little faster and it’s as if he knows exactly what you need, how your body works. “just gimmie one like this, sweet girl. one like this and then you can have my cock.” he promises, salt and pepper scruff tickling your skin as he speaks.

It’s all too much and not enough at the same time. His body against yours, his lips and tongue on your skin, his fingers working you over - you’re a mess, whimpering, moaning, letting any noise out that wants to escape. Your fingers dig into his jeans clad thighs, desperate for him.

“need your- hmmph -your cock, Joel. Please.”

“Y’do?” He coos, his fingers slipping down to your needy hole once more to collect more of the wetness there before returning to your aching bud. “come for me like this first n’ I’ll fuck you real good, darlin’.”

Those words have you moaning and whimpering even more. You’re squirming, desperately clinging onto his thighs as you feel yourself reach that edge. “Tha’s it, baby. Tha’s right, c’mon now.”

His gruff words are what does it for you, your back arches off of him as you come, thighs trembling and a string of moans, and breathy whispers trail out of your mouth.

“Good girl.” he murmurs praises against the shell of your ear, fingers still coaxing every last bit of your orgasm from you. His fingers gradually come to a stop against you and he places a quick kiss to the spot under your ear.

“Wanna see ‘er.” he mutters, carefully plopping you down on the couch, ripping your ruined panties off and spreading your thighs for him. He watches as your cunt clenches around nothing, begging to be stuffed full of him. A low moan escapes him at the sight as his thumbs spread your lips apart.

“Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.”

You watch him in awe as he gets a proper look, his thumbs gently running over your glistening folds before one prods at your entrance, illiciting a moan from you. “Can I give ‘er a little kiss, baby?” he asks, already leaning down, brown eyes on yours.

You’re nodding your head before you even fully process the question. You’ve imagined this so many times. He wants to tease you, wants to tell you to ‘use your words’ but he can’t, he needs this just as much as you do.

He wastes no time, diving in like a man starved. He licks a longe stripe from hole to clit first, moaning against you, sending shockwaves through you.

His lips and tongue don’t let up, tasting your release, the tip of his tongue teasing your still sensitive nub gently before sucking it into his mouth, making your hips jerk. He chuckles lowly at that and then moves down and fucks you with his tongue, his beard scratching deliciously against your thighs.

“Oh god-” you whine, fingers threading through his curls, making him hum appreciatively. You don’t give a damn how desperate and needy you sound, this man is working you over like you’ve never been before.

He replaces his tongue with two fingers, teasingly dipping them in and pushing them slowly all the way in before he pulls them all the way back out to do it again. “So fucking sweet.” he groans, flicking his wrist up to curl his fingers inside of you. Your moans, your body, you, have got him rutting against the couch like a teenage boy.

“Need to fuck this pussy now, baby. Can I?” he asks, looking up at you, though you and him both know the answer to that. His cock strains against his jeans to the point it’s starting to hurt.

You nod eagerly, letting go of his curls. “Yes, please, need you.”

He pulls his slick coated face and fingers away from your dripping heat and you almost whine at the loss of contact. He stands up and you can see he’s rock hard through his jeans. He unbuckles his belt, the sound of metal clinking exciting you as you track his movements.

When he’s free of his jeans, he sits down, patting his legs for you to come over and you obey quickly. As you move over, he pulls himself out of his boxers, resting the waistband under his heavy balls. You glance down, almost salivating at the sight.

You run out of time to look as he pulls you over, gently but impatiently. “C’mon, sweet girl.” he mutters, lazily stroking his huge cock from base to tip a couple times and you position yourself above him. He runs the tip of his cock through your soaked folds, touching your clit and making you moan. He chuckles, doing it a couple more times before notching at your entrance.

You move forward slightly before slowly sinking down onto him, both of you moaning. One of his hands grip your hip as the other grabs one of your asscheeks as his head falls back against the couch. “Goddamn…” he grits.

You slowly move against him, grinding your hips. “Fuck…needed this….needed you.” you ramble as his cock fills you perfectly. He matches your movements, thrusting up into you. “Yeah? Me too, fuuuck, me too.” he groans, his breathing picking up.

“Look at me, baby. Yeah, tha’s it. Wanna see that pretty face while I fuck ya.”

You meet his eyes and he looks as wrecked as you. Pupils blown, cheeks flushed, panting. It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. You interlock your fingers behind his neck, riding him faster now. It’s as if you have zero control over what comes out of your mouth.

“C’mon now, ride that cock, pretty girl.” He grunts, smacking your ass and encouraging you to move against him a little faster now.

You ignore the burning sensation in your knees, making it your mission to be full of his come as soon as possible. His hand slides from your hip to the nape of your neck, pulling you in for a messy kiss.

The lewd sounds of skin meeting skin fill the room, you can hear how wet you are and it only spurs him on more. He swallows all your moans, pushing his tongue into your mouth.

He hold you in place and ruts up into you, hitting that spot over and over, making you clench around him. “Makin’ a mess a’my cock, fuckin’ drippin’ all over me ain’tcha?” he almost growls against your lips, pistoning his hips into you.

Your eyes roll back as you moan his name like a prayer. “M’gonna come inside this pretty pussy, baby. That what you want?”

You’re cockdrunk. Everything he says, everything he does just makes you want him even more. “Yesyesyes.” you whine. “Gonna come.”

“Yeah? Gonna milk my cock for all its worth? jesus you’re so fuckin’ tight.” His words are filthy, a stark contrast to the tone he speaks them in, making your cunt clench around him as you teeter right on the edge.

“Mmpleasepleaseplease.” you whine, fingers tugging on the hair at the nape of his neck again. That makes him moan and he buries his face into your neck.

“Fuck, I can feel it. C’mon, gimmie another one. Lemme feel you.” he murmurs against your neck. You can feel his warm breath agaisnt your skin, and that mixed with his cock hitting the right spot over and over and his massive hands gripping you send you straight over.

“Joel-” you try to let him know but it happens so fast, your back arches and your head falls back. His movements falter slightly as you grip his cock like a velvet vice.

“Ah, fuck, look so pretty like this baby- shit-” he mutters as his orgasm washes over him too, his head rolls back, his brow furrowed and his mouth open as he lets out a string of breathy curse words and grunts and fills you up with ropes of his hot load.

You’re both in a state of bliss, breathing laboured, skin shining with sweat. Joel rests his forehead against your shoulder, trying to control his breathing. His hands now delicately running over the parts of you he gripped tight as your cheek rests against his head.

“Y’know what?” You say after a moment, moving your face from his head, your arms hanging loosely over his shoulders.

He slowly lifts his head up and tucks your hair behind your ear. “What, sweetheart?” he asks softly.

“For the first time in months, I’m actually tired.” you say, a lazy smile on your face. He exhales an amused puff of air from his nose, smiling up at you.

“Yeah, yeah me too.”

2K notes · View notes

nasa · 5 months ago

Text

Love Letters from Space

Love is in the air, and it’s out in space too! The universe is full of amazing chemistry, cosmic couples held together by gravitational attraction, and stars pulsing like beating hearts.

Celestial objects send out messages we can detect if we know how to listen for them. Our upcoming Nancy Grace Roman Space Telescope will help us scour the skies for all kinds of star-crossed signals.

Celestial Conversation Hearts

Communication is key for any relationship – including our relationship with space. Different telescopes are tuned to pick up different messages from across the universe, and combining them helps us learn even more. Roman is designed to see some visible light – the type of light our eyes can see, featured in the photo above from a ground-based telescope – in addition to longer wavelengths, called infrared. That will help us peer through clouds of dust and across immense stretches of space.

Other telescopes can see different types of light, and some detectors can even help us study cosmic rays, ghostly neutrinos, and ripples in space called gravitational waves.

Intergalactic Hugs

This visible and near-infrared image from the Hubble Space Telescope captures two hearts locked in a cosmic embrace. Known as the Antennae Galaxies, this pair’s love burns bright. The two spiral galaxies are merging together, igniting the birth of brand new baby stars.

Stellar nurseries are often very dusty places, which can make it hard to tell what’s going on. But since Roman can peer through dust, it will help us see stars in their infancy. And Roman’s large view of space coupled with its sharp, deep imaging will help us study how galaxy mergers have evolved since the early universe.

Cosmic Chemistry

Those stars are destined to create new chemistry, forging elements and scattering them into space as they live, die, and merge together. Roman will help us understand the cosmic era when stars first began forming. The mission will help scientists learn more about how elements were created and distributed throughout galaxies.

Did you know that U and I (uranium and iodine) were both made from merging neutron stars? Speaking of which…

Fatal Attraction

When two neutron stars come together in a marriage of sorts, it creates some spectacular fireworks! While they start out as stellar sweethearts, these and some other types of cosmic couples are fated for devastating breakups.

When a white dwarf – the leftover core from a Sun-like star that ran out of fuel – steals material from its companion, it can throw everything off balance and lead to a cataclysmic explosion. Studying these outbursts, called type Ia supernovae, led to the discovery that the expansion of the universe is speeding up. Roman will scan the skies for these exploding stars to help us figure out what’s causing the expansion to accelerate – a mystery known as dark energy.

Going Solo

Plenty of things in our galaxy are single, including hundreds of millions of stellar-mass black holes and trillions of “rogue” planets. These objects are effectively invisible – dark objects lost in the inky void of space – but Roman will see them thanks to wrinkles in space-time.

Anything with mass warps the fabric of space-time. So when an intervening object nearly aligns with a background star from our vantage point, light from the star curves as it travels through the warped space-time around the nearer object. The object acts like a natural lens, focusing and amplifying the background star’s light.

Thanks to this observational effect, which makes stars appear to temporarily pulse brighter, Roman will reveal all kinds of things we’d never be able to see otherwise.

Roman is nearly ready to set its sights on so many celestial spectacles. Follow along with the mission’s build progress in this interactive virtual tour of the observatory, and check out these space-themed Valentine’s Day cards.

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!

#NASA #astronomy #telescope #Roman Space Telescope #Valentine’s Day #space #science #STEM #nebula #chemistry #galaxies #black holes #rogue planets #exoplanets #Hubble Space Telescope #tech

3K notes · View notes

lazy-ahh · 2 months ago

Note

Ello~! I was wondering if I can make a request with Mohawk Mark X Starfire Male Reader! Just thinking about them interacting makes me think it’d be cute and funny, especially if Mohawk Mark’s the first person Reader meets and Reader kisses him to learn his language ^_^

LOST STAR

pairing mohawk! mark grayson x (tamaranean/starfire) male reader

when a tamaranean crash-lands on earth with his powers locked behind strange cuffs, the last person he expects to meet is mark grayson—mohawk, piercings, and all the attitude of a pissed-off superhuman. but after a very unconventional first encounter (involving lips, language barriers, and zero personal space), the two find themselves tangled in something neither expected. now mark’s stuck babysitting an alien who follows him like a lovesick comet, touches him like he’s something sacred, and looks at him like he’s the entire damn universe. worst part? mark’s starting to like it.

taglist @hhoneylemon , @queermaeda , @yujensstuff , @thebatsgreatestfailure , @roryroro

the sky was a lazy blend of orange and pink, the sun sinking low behind the rooftops and stretching the shadows of trees and telephone poles into long, crooked fingers across the quiet suburban streets. mark grayson—invincible, not that the name really mattered—was sprawled on the edge of a rooftop, one leg swinging idly over the drop while he chewed on the inside of his cheek. bored. so stupidly, mind-numbingly bored.

nothing ever happened in this dump at this hour surprisingly. no rampaging villains to put through a wall, no collapsing buildings to prop up last-minute, not even a damn bank robbery to spice things up. just the same old houses, the same old people, the same old nothing. he sighed, tilting his head back. maybe he should just bail—go home, flop onto his bed, and finally read the new issue of seance dog that had been sitting on his desk for two days.

he pushed himself up, rolling his shoulders, ready to take off—

"invincible."

cecil’s voice crackled through the earpiece in his right ear, sharp and no-nonsense. mark groaned, tapping the device. "what."

"we’ve got an unidentified object approaching earth at high speed. trajectory puts it landing in your area. intercept and assess—neutralize if it’s a threat. you know the deal."

mark’s lips curled into a grin. finally.

he barely had time to glance up before something streaked across the sky—a blur of green and purple, moving way too fast to be a meteor, way too alive to be space junk. it slammed into the park across the street with a boom that rattled windows and sent birds scattering in panic.

mark didn’t hesitate. he kicked off the roof, the air whipping past him as he dropped down, landing hard enough to crack the pavement near the smoldering crater you’d left behind. dust swirled in the air, thick and choking, but as it cleared—

there you were.

and oh, this just got interesting.

you were… colorful. like, stupidly colorful. not in some tacky, neon way—more like the kind of vibrant that made mark’s brain stutter for half a second. your skin was a warm, sun-kissed gold, like you’d been dipped in honey and left to glow under some star. your hair—wow, your hair—was a wild mess, strands floating slightly as if gravity had given up trying to tame it. and your eyes. bright, glowing green, like two emerald suns blinking up at him, dazed but sharp.

mark’s gaze dragged lower, slow and deliberate, drinking in the sight of you like he’d just stumbled across something precious. yeah, you were built like him—lean but layered with tight, coiled muscle, the kind of body that spoke of battles fought in zero gravity, of limbs trained to twist mid-air and strike like a comet. but where mark was all rough edges and impatient energy, you were polished. sleek in a way that made his throat feel weirdly dry.

your outfit didn’t help. deep, royal purple—the kind of color that shifted in the dying light, almost metallic, like liquid amethyst poured over your skin. it clung to you perfectly, hugging every dip and curve of your frame, leaving your arms bare and flexing, biceps tensing as you tested the cuffs. the fabric looked smooth but impossibly tough, like it could take a hit from a plasma cannon and barely singe.

then there were the details—the silver metal sleeves encasing your forearms, running from wrist to just beneath the swell of your bicep. sleek violet boots, fitted like they’d been forged onto you. and that collar—high, armored, framing your jawline and flaring over your shoulders like some kind of alien royalty. it gave you this… presence. like you hadn’t just crash-landed in a park. like you’d meant to make an entrance.

mark’s lips quirked. space prince. a really pissed-off one, judging by the way you were glaring at your restraints.

interesting.

mark's eyes dropped to your wrists, where thick, pulsating cuffs glowed with an eerie violet light. they weren't just restraints—they were alive with foreign tech, humming like a trapped wasp nest, their surfaces crawling with strange, liquid-metal runes that shifted under his gaze. you groaned through clenched teeth, the veins in your biceps standing out as you wrenched against the cuffs which were flashing brighter in response as if mocking your efforts. a frustrated snarl ripped from your throat, one that made the hair on mark's arms stand up—there was something distinctly predator about it.

"well, well," mark drawled, his arms crossing over his chest, fingers tapping an impatient rhythm against his bicep. "looks like earth's got itself a new intergalactic tourist." his lips curled into that trademark smirk, the one that usually made people nervous. "let me guess—not the welcome party you were expecting, right?"

your head snapped up at that, those glowing green eyes narrowing. for a second, you just stared at him like he'd grown a second head, your nose wrinkling in a way that might've been cute if not for the dangerous glint in your eyes. when you spoke, it was like listening to a storm given voice—words that rolled and crashed in impossible rhythms, some syllables sharp as broken glass, others smooth as molten gold. the sounds curled through the air between you, carrying the scent of ozone and something distinctly not-of-this-world.

mark blinked, his smirk faltering for half a heartbeat. "uh. yeah," he said, shaking his head as if that might dislodge the foreign sounds from his ears. "no idea what the hell you just said."

your expression darkened, those glowing eyes flickering like a dying neon sign. he saw the exact moment you gave up on communication—your jaw tightening, the muscles in your shoulders coiling like springs. then, in a burst of motion so fast it left afterimages, you were gone. one second you were there, kneeling in the smoldering crater, the next you were nothing but a comet's tail of emerald and amethyst streaking upward, the shockwave of your takeoff sending dirt and debris spraying in all directions. the air where you'd been shimmered with displaced energy, the scent of burnt ozone hanging heavy in your wake.

"oh, hell no," mark growled, the words tearing from his throat as he kicked off the ground hard enough to crater the pavement beneath him. the air screamed past his ears as he shot after you, his mohawk flattening against his skull from the sheer velocity.

the chase was a goddamn lightning strike—you moved like starlight given form, all emerald and violet streaks against the twilight sky. you banked hard around a skyscraper, your restrained hands somehow not slowing the fluid way you carved through the air, dipping between buildings with impossible grace before rocketing toward the distant tree line. mark gritted his teeth until his jaw ached, pushing his limits to match your speed. you were quicker, yeah, but he was all stubborn rage and earth-born grit, refusing to let some cuffed-up alien outfly him in his own damn city.

the forest came up fast—too fast. the two of you crashed through the canopy in an explosion of splintered branches and shredded leaves, the scent of pine resin thick in the air as you skidded to a stop in a small clearing. dirt and debris sprayed outward from your landing, the impact sending small creatures scattering into the underbrush. you spun to face him, your cuffed hands held in a defensive position despite the restraints, those glowing green eyes burning like solar flares in the dim light. your chest heaved with each breath, but your stance never wavered—balanced, dangerous, like a coiled spring ready to snap.

mark barely had time to flash that infuriating smirk before you lunged.

your first strike shouldn't have been possible with bound hands—a vicious, glowing green haymaker that left afterimages in its wake as it rocketed toward his jaw. mark barely ducked in time, feeling the superheated energy of your fist singe the tips of his hair as it passed. he countered with a sharp jab to your ribs, but you twisted mid-air with impossible flexibility, your knee coming up in a brutal arc that connected with his diaphragm. the impact lifted him clean off his feet, all the air rushing from his lungs in a pained "oof" as he skidded backward through the dirt, his back slamming against an unfortunate sapling that snapped in half from the force.

"the hell—?!" he wheezed, his vision swimming as he struggled to draw breath. his ribs throbbed where you'd hit him—that shouldn't have hurt so damn much. why the hell do your hits feel like freight trains?

you didn’t let up. another punch—sharp, precise—aimed for his ribs. a spinning kick that nearly took his head off if he hadn’t ducked in time. every movement was fluid, calculated, like you’d spent years mastering how to fight even with your hands bound. mark blocked what he could, arms stinging from the impact, but damn, you were good. not just strong—trained. like someone had carved you into a weapon and set you loose.

"alright, enough," he growled, finally snatching your wrist mid-swing, his fingers locking around the smooth metal cuff. you snarled, muscles straining as you tried to yank free, but he held firm, his grip unrelenting. "i’m not trying to fight you, dumbass!"

you froze. your chest heaved, sweat glistening along your temple, those glowing green eyes locked onto his with an intensity that made his pulse stutter. for a heartbeat, neither of you moved—just the sound of ragged breathing between you. then, slowly, your glare softened into something uncertain, almost curious. you huffed, nostrils flaring, before your gaze flicked down—to his lips.

then—

you lunged.

mark’s brain short-circuited. one second, he was glaring at you, ready to snap another insult—the next, your mouth was on his, warm and burning, like kissing sunlight given form. your lips were softer than he expected, but there was a roughness to it, a desperation that left him dizzy. your scent flooded his senses—something wild and electric, like ozone and crushed juniper berries.

he didn’t even realize he’d started kissing you back until you pulled away, and god, his body moved before his brain could catch up—chasing your lips in a hazy, instinctive daze, as if you’d stolen the air from his lungs and he needed it back.

you broke the contact with a quiet smack, licking your lips like you’d just tasted something fascinating. your tongue darted out, slow, deliberate, as if savoring the flavor of him.

"there," you murmured, your voice smooth now, laced with an accent that curled around the words like smoke. the glow in your eyes flickered, satisfied. "now i can understand you."

mark just stared, his lips still buzzing with the phantom warmth of yours, his heart hammering against his ribs like it was trying to escape. he could still taste you—something sweet and foreign, like starlight given flavor. "...what the fuck."

his hand rose slowly, the back of it dragging across his mouth in a rough gesture, like he could wipe away the lingering sensation. it didn't work. "what the hell was that?" his voice came out strangled, higher than usual.

you blinked, your glowing green eyes wide with sudden concern. the way your brows knitted together was almost... cute. damn it. "i am sorry," you said carefully, each word deliberate like you were testing how they felt in your new tongue. your head tilted slightly as you spoke. "my people... we learn speech like this." you raised your cuffed hands slightly, fingers brushing your own lips in demonstration. "lips must touch. to know words."

mark's face burned hotter. "so you just- what, kiss people to talk to them?"

"yes." you nodded earnestly, then hesitated. your nose scrunched as you searched for the right words. "but... not for... pleasure? only learning." you gestured between the two of you. "now i understand you. but your face..." your hand hovered near his cheek, not quite touching. "you look... burned? did i hurt you?"

"no, i'm not- that's not-" mark sputtered, running a hand through his mohawk in frustration. he could still feel the shape of your mouth against his. "it's just... humans don't usually do that, okay? we learn languages the boring way. with books and shit."

your glowing green eyes widened, the light in them pulsing faintly with genuine surprise. "that sounds... very slow." you said it with such sincere, heartbreaking pity—like mark had just confessed he still walked everywhere instead of flying—that his lips twitched despite himself, a choked laugh threatening to escape.

mark groaned, his calloused palm dragging down his face hard enough to briefly distort his features. "unbelievable," he muttered through his fingers. "welp, there goes my first kiss. first alien i meet, and they're a total weirdo."

your head tilted slightly to the side, those luminous eyes blinking once, twice. the movement was so distinctly not human—too smooth, too precise—that it sent an odd shiver down mark's spine. "weer-dee-oh?" you repeated carefully, the unfamiliar word rolling awkwardly off your tongue. your nose scrunched adorably as you tested the syllables. "this is... a bad thing?"

the innocent question, paired with your utterly serious expression, finally broke mark. a sharp bark of laughter escaped him before he could stop it. "oh my god," he wheezed, shoulders shaking. "you're killing me here." he waved a hand vaguely in your direction, struggling to compose himself. "no, it's just- yeah, okay, maybe a little bad. but mostly... you're just different. in a... in a way that makes my brain hurt."

you considered this for a moment, then nodded solemnly. "then i will be... careful with your brain." you said it with such grave sincerity that mark had to bite his lip to keep from laughing again.

the sudden crackle of cecil's voice in his earpiece nearly made mark jump. "invincible. report. was that explosion our new visitor?"

mark sighed, pressing a finger to his ear. "yeah, yeah. we're all good. turns out tall, glowing, and stab-happy here isn't actually—hey!" he interrupted himself as he caught you twisting your wrists violently against the cuffs, your teeth gritted in frustration. without breaking his conversation, he reached over and snapped the remaining restraint like it was a stale breadstick. "—isn't actually a threat. just... real enthusiastic about first impressions."

"you're telling me you've made peaceful contact with an unknown extraterrestrial in under five minutes?" cecil's dry tone could've withered flowers. "should i alert the press about your stunning diplomatic skills?"

"shut up," mark muttered, pointedly ignoring the way you were now staring at him with those big, glowing eyes—like he'd just saved your family and your cat instead of breaking some stupid cuffs. your fingers flexed experimentally, green energy already crackling around your freed hands. it was... distracting. "look, they're harmless. mostly. just... really into the whole kissing thing."

a beat of silence. "...i'm going to pretend i didn't hear that."

"good call," mark said, watching as you shook out your wrists, that ridiculously grateful expression still plastered on your face. he pointedly turned his back, feeling his ears heat up. "anyway, we're cool here. no invasion today. probably."

"your confidence is overwhelming," cecil deadpanned. "anyway, bring them to headquarters immediately—the guardians and i will want to assess this situation properly."

"what? no, he's fine—" mark started, but cecil cut him off.

"that wasn't a request, grayson. headquarters. now." the line went dead with finality.

mark groaned, turning back to see your stupidly earnest face. "stop looking at me like that," he grumbled, crossing his arms. "it was just some cuffs."

you blinked, then smiled—slow and bright like a sunrise. "to you, maybe." your newly freed hand reached up, almost hesitantly, to brush against his arm. "to me... it was everything."

mark's stomach lurched violently, like he'd just missed a step going downstairs. that uncomfortable warmth spread from his chest up to his ears, burning under his skin. oh, this was so not good. with a sharp turn, he pivoted on his heel, deliberately facing away from you so you wouldn't see how flushed he'd become. "anyway, we gotta move. looks like we're taking a field trip," he muttered, voice rough around the edges as he started walking a little too fast.

you blinked, your glowing eyes widening slightly as your head tilted at that perfect, infuriating angle that made your hair sway. without hesitation, you floated after him, keeping pace effortlessly. "field... trip?" the words sounded foreign in your mouth, your accent wrapping around them curiously.

"yeah," mark grumbled, dragging a hand through his mohawk. he could already imagine the interrogation—cecil's piercing stare, the guardians' skeptical looks, and god, if his dad got involved... his shoulders tensed at the thought. "to meet my coworkers. and my boss." he shot you a sideways glance, trying to sound casual as he added, "try not to kiss anyone this time, okay?"

you gently shook your head, the motion sending little emerald sparks dancing through your hair. "there is no need to worry." your voice was soft but certain, like this was the most obvious thing in the world. "i won't kiss anyone else other than you."

mark's steps faltered. he whirled around so fast he nearly tripped over his own feet. "what do you mean by that?" his voice came out embarrassingly high-pitched.

you looked at him with mild surprise, those luminous eyes studying his flustered expression with open curiosity. "i meant that i'll only ever kiss you if i needed to learn more of the language." a small, knowing smile played at your lips as you added, "though, i doubt i'd need to."

mark's brain short-circuited. the way you said it—so simple, so matter-of-fact—left no room for argument. that uncomfortable warmth in his chest bloomed hotter, spreading down to his fingertips. he swallowed hard, suddenly very aware of how close you were standing.

oh. he was so completely fucked.

(≧∇≦)ﾉ☆

mark absolutely hated this. hated how you floated after him everywhere like some glowing green shadow. hated how you’d tilt your head at every little thing—vending machines, pigeons, traffic lights—like they held the secrets of the universe. hated most of all how cecil had dumped babysitting duty on him with that infuriating smirk. "just keep him out of trouble, grayson. how hard can it be?"

it was impossible. you were a walking disaster wrapped in purple uniform. yesterday you’d tried to "help" him stop a bank robbery by smiling brightly at the thieves and asking why they needed the money, as if you were going to try out to talk-no-jutsu them into not doing the crime anymore. the day before, you’d somehow set a hot dog stand on fire because "the meat tubes smelled sad and wished to be free." and now? now you were hovering two inches behind him as he tried to buy coffee, your chin practically resting on his shoulder as you stared at the cashier with terrifying intensity.

"dude. personal space," mark grumbled, elbowing you back gently. you didn’t move—just blinked those stupidly big eyes at him and whispered "the small human is giving you paper with numbers. is this a threat?"

mark’s eye twitched. "it’s called money, space case." he shoved a twenty at the cashier before dragging you away by your wrist, ignoring how your fingers immediately curled around his like some overgrown, alien puppy. "we’ve been over this. no interrogating minimum wage workers. no ‘investigating’ trash cans. and for the love of god—" he yanked you back as you started drifting toward a police horse, "—no trying to communicate with earth animals!"

you pouted, all soft lips and wounded dignity, your glowing eyes shimmering with genuine concern. "but the furry one looked lonely."

mark's stomach did that stupid, traitorous flip again—the one that made his ribs feel too tight. he hated that most of all. hated how you'd somehow woven yourself into every fucking corner of his life these past four weeks. you were practically living at his house now, curled up on his couch like some exotic housecat whenever his mom made tamaranean-friendly snacks (which she learned for hours from your instructions). debbie adored you, always saving the snacks just for you, laughing at your terrible attempts at earth jokes. even his father—stone-cold nolan grayson—had started giving you those barely-there smiles when you correctly answered his space trivia questions.

the guardians treated you like some precious child they had adopted. darkwing let you fiddle with his tech. war woman sneaked you candy. even cecil, the human embodiment of a migraine, had gruffly admitted you were "tolerable and nice for your own good." everyone loved you. and mark? mark was so, so fucked.

what he hated most were the nights. those quiet, vulnerable nights when you'd slip into his bed after nightmares about your crashed ship, wearing nothing but his stolen seance dog hoodie (now permanently smelling like starlight and something sweet) and those stupid black boxers that rode too low on your hips. you'd curl against him like a contented star, your warm fingers tracing constellations across his cheekbones, his collarbones, the hard planes of his chest—always to the rhythm of that damn song he'd first introduced to you. he never told you to shut up whenever you would hum or even sing the tune, not because your voice sounded nice or anything, but because it just so happened to be his favourite song. your humming vibrated through his skin, your breath warm against his neck as you studied him with that reverent gaze, like he'd hung every fucking star in your sky.

mark would lie there, barely breathing, his heart pounding so loud he was sure you could hear it. he'd focus on keeping his muscles relaxed, on not shivering when your fingertips brushed his nipple accidentally, on pretending he didn't notice how your thigh kept sliding between his in order to tangle your limbs with his. and if his cock stirred in his sweats, thick and heavy with want? well. that was just biology. didn't mean anything. couldn't mean anything. because if you realized he was awake, if you saw the desperate hunger in his eyes, if you felt the way his hips twitched toward your touch—

it would ruin everything. and mark couldn't lose this. couldn't lose you. so he stayed still, stayed quiet, and let you have these stolen moments—even as they slowly drove him insane.

(≧∇≦)ﾉ☆

"i've always been curious about these tiny little metal things on your face." your voice was soft with wonder, fingertips hovering just above his skin like you were afraid he might vanish. slowly, so slowly, you traced the silver buds by his eyebrow, following the curve like it held some cosmic secret. your touch drifted down, feather-light, to brush the labret piercing at the bottom of the corner of his lip. when your thumb accidentally grazed the fullness of his bottom lip, mark's breath hitched—just for a second. "why did you get them?" you whispered, glowing eyes searching his.

mark had learned many things about you these past weeks. like how you were practically made of starlight and touch, always finding ways to connect—a hand on his arm when laughing, fingers threading through his when nervous, your entire body pressed along his back when curious about what he was doing. at first, it had been shy little brushes, like you weren't sure you were allowed. now? now you draped yourself over him without hesitation, leaning in close to whisper terrible jokes in his ear just to feel him shake with laughter.

("you know," red rush had said once, smirking as you clung to mark's arm like a vine, "most humans don't just... climb their friends like jungle gyms."

you'd just nuzzled into mark's shoulder, completely unbothered. "but mark isn't most humans." and damn if that hadn't made his chest feel too tight.)

mark had thought about setting boundaries. once. for about five seconds. then you fell asleep on his chest during movie night, and the idea evaporated like morning dew.

now, with your fingers still tracing his piercings, mark swallowed hard. "dunno," he muttered, trying (and failing) to sound casual. "thought they looked cool, i guess." a beat. then, softer: "my mom cried when i came home with the first one."

your glowing eyes crinkled at the corners. "i think they're beautiful," you murmured, thumb brushing his lip again—and okay, that was definitely on purpose this time. "like... constellations. but on your skin instead of the sky." your other hand came up to cradle his jaw, your touch warmer than any sun. "may i...?"

mark's heart was doing that stupid pounding thing again. "may you what?" he breathed, already leaning into your palm.

instead of answering, you closed the distance between you, pressing the softest kiss to each piercing—first his eyebrows, then the corners of his mouth. when you pulled back, your smile was brighter than any supernova. "now i'll always remember how they feel," you whispered, like it was some precious secret.

mark was pretty sure his lungs had forgotten how to work. "you," he croaked out, voice rough like gravel, "are such a weirdo." but his traitorous hands were already dragging you closer, fingers digging into the soft skin of your hips as his forehead fell against yours. the words came out thick with something he wasn't ready to name—something that burned in his chest whenever you looked at him like that. and god, that smile—the one that lit up your whole face, the one that was only ever for him—it sent a wave of heat crashing through him, turning his cheeks and neck an embarrassing shade of pink that matched the sunset bleeding through his bedroom window.

"is that still a bad thing?" you asked, already shifting like this was your rightful place. in one smooth motion, you straddled his thigh, your legs bracketing his like they were made to fit there. your arms looped around his neck with practiced ease, fingers playing with the hairs at his nape like you'd done this a thousand times before. mark's breath hitched as your weight settled fully against him—the firm press of your ass against his thigh, the way your biceps flexed under his fingertips, the heat of your bare skin where his shirt had ridden up. and fuck, if he didn't focus real hard on the ceiling, he was going to lose his mind over the unmistakable press of your cock against his stomach, barely concealed by those stupid thin boxers you always stole from him. he was just wishing you didn't notice the raging boner in his.

mark swallowed hard, his own traitorous body responding in kind. "no..." he managed, voice muffled as he buried his face in the curve of your neck, inhaling the scent of starlight and his own shampoo on your skin. one hand came up to cradle the back of your head, holding you close like you might disappear. "not with you." his lips brushed against your pulse point, the words spilling out in a whisper he couldn't take back. "never with you."

exactly 4.6k words, i'm honestly a tiny bit impressed lolol. anyway, hope y'all enjoyed this one-shot! i'm not gonna lie, i didn't know where i was going with this but yeah :]

#lazy-ahh #invincible #invincible variant #mark grayson #mohawk invincible #mohawk mark grayson #male reader #tamaranean male reader #invincible x male reader #invincible variant x male reader #mark grayson x male reader #mohawk invincible x male reader #mohawk mark grayson x male reader #NEED THAT INVINCIDIH #are you sure?

948 notes · View notes

yusufalioglu · 2 years ago

Video

Nonexistent by Yusuf Alioğlu Via Flickr: Nonexistent My Interplanetary Memories Interplanetary Travel A Forgotten Sunset My Interplanetary Memories Interplanetary Travel I wanted to share with you this sunset photo I took five years ago according to Earth time. I was witnessing the simultaneous setting of three giant suns behind the mountains. It was a unique sunset view. Maybe it was a sight that I would never witness again for me. So I blinked as little as I could so as not to miss a single moment. And to show you this unique sunset view, I was constantly taking pictures. Ok, it may have been a bit late posting. Sometimes there are photos that I forget to share. Sometimes I don't even have time to share photos. There are times when I cannot share photos due to communication breakdown. I think this is one of those photos. During the time I was on that planet, I had constant communication problems due to the magnetic storms created by the three great suns. This resulted in a lot of unpublished photos in my archive. I hope it was worth the wait for me for so long. Camera: Canon EOS Kiss X7i Photograph by Yusuf Alioglu Location: Outer space (space) Facebook Become a Patron! Instagram (Yusuf Alioglu Photography) Instagram (UnbornArt) Twitter Youtube iStock Blogger Vimeo UnbornArt deviantART Tumblr Check out this portfolio on Shutterstock! Camera: Canon EOS Kiss X7i Photograph by Yusuf Alioglu Location: Outer space (space) Facebook Become a Patron! Instagram (Yusuf Alioglu Photography) Instagram (UnbornArt) Twitter Youtube iStock Blogger Vimeo UnbornArt deviantART Tumblr Check out this portfolio on Shutterstock!

0 notes

peachversace · 14 days ago

Text

والقمرُ يشهدُ: قلبي ليس لي

the moon bears witness: my heart is no longer mine—

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

The first time you see Katsuki truly drunk—not just a little warm in the cheeks or loose-limbed from a celebratory toast—but drunk, like slurring his words, clumsy with his hands, can’t stop smiling kind of drunk—is at the Hero Billboard Chart After Party.

And honestly? It stuns you.

Because Katsuki doesn’t drink. Not really. Not seriously. He’s never liked how it makes his head fuzzy, or how it dulls his control. Even back in the early days, when the others would crowd bars after missions, he’d wave off the beers and sip on soda or water, nursing one glass of whiskey over the whole night, if that. His tolerance has always been low, but more than that, he just doesn’t care for it. Doesn’t see the point.

So seeing him like this? Red-cheeked, grinning, swaying slightly as he leans on you like you’re gravity itself—it’s a revelation.

You’re standing off to the side of the event space, in a quieter alcove draped in soft lights and velvet panels, the dull thump of bass from the DJ booth thrumming through the floor. Katsuki has one arm slung low around your waist, fingertips pressing slightly too firm against your hip, like he’s making sure you’re real. And he keeps looking at you—like he can’t not look. Like he forgot anyone else even exists.

You don’t know what got him like this. Whether it’s the fact he placed fifth on the rankings—fifth, when he was hovering just below the top ten last year—or because Kaminari and Sero probably goaded him into taking celebratory shots (you saw their dumb grins earlier). Maybe it’s both. Maybe it's just the tension breaking, all the pressure lifting at once.

But he’s flushed and sweaty, his ash-blond hair sticking up messily, eyes glassy and low-lidded and completely hooked on you.

“What?” you ask with a skeptical squint, feeling his gaze burn into your profile.

He blinks slow, a beat behind, and his voice is a little too loud, a little too lazy, when he grumbles, “Nothin’.”

Except it isn’t nothing. Because his hand slips lower, trailing deliberately down the small of your back and curving over the swell of your ass. And he gives a slight squeeze. Bold.

You snap your head toward him, lips parted in disbelief. But he just grins—grins—like you’ve handed him the damn sun. His cheeks are crimson, his smile all sharp teeth and warmth and mischief, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

God, he looks beautiful. Messy and undone and soft around the edges. The kind of beauty you don’t see when he’s scowling in press conferences or yelling on patrol. This is him unguarded. Radiant.

And your heart does this little achey flutter. Not just because he’s drunk and touchy, but because he’s happy. And relaxed. And letting himself be soft with you in a way most people will never see.

You shoot him a look, snorting, “This is so unlike you.”

He leans in close, the scent of something warm and oaky clinging to his breath, and bumps his forehead gently against yours. “Sh’not,” he mutters.

You arch a brow. “You’re trying to make out with me at an industry event.”

“‘M always tryna make out with you,” he says without hesitation.

And then—before you can even retort—he’s chasing your lips, sloppily pressing his mouth to yours, and you laugh into the kiss because it’s not smooth or practiced or like anything he usually does. It’s needy. Clingy. All tongue and heart, like he’s forgotten that other people exist. You feel his fingers curl around yours, tugging your joined hands against his chest like a secret.

You pull back a little, breathless, just to look at him.

He’s flushed all the way down his neck, chest rising and falling quickly under that ridiculously tailored coat. The deep charcoal wool glints slightly under the lighting, and you catch the faint outline of stars stitched into the lining as it shifts open.

He’s breathtaking tonight. More than usual. Not because of what he’s wearing—though the bespoke look certainly doesn’t hurt—but because of how he’s looking at you. Like you hung the fucking moon.

And maybe you do, in this moment. Because your outfit—the moonlight tones and shimmered constellations—doesn’t just complement his. It answers him. You, wrapped in soft light. Him, wrapped in deep shadow. You, glowing in pale silk and brushed wool; he, structured and sharp in slate and midnight. You belong together, even in the fabric.

He blinks, licks his lips, and murmurs, “We leavin’ yet or not?”

You blink. “What?”

He sways forward again, letting his forehead rest against yours. “Wanna go home,” he mutters.

You can’t help but grin, brushing his hair back gently from his damp forehead. “Why?”

He huffs, pouty, and you swear his eyes drop to your lips again. “So I can touch you without these extras watchin’.”

Your breath catches. Your face burns.

You laugh, helpless. “You are touching me.”

“Not enough.”

And okay, that does it. Because there’s a need in his voice—low and rough and sleep-warm—that goes straight to your core. He’s drunk, yeah. But not incoherent. Not sloppy. Just open. Honest in a way Katsuki never is unless he’s either on death’s door or—apparently—three drinks past his limit and proud of you both.

You lean forward, brush a kiss to the corner of his mouth, and murmur, “Let me say goodbye to Mina and Kirishima. We’ll go.”

He nods, obedient, and when you try to step away, his hand stays locked in yours like a tether. He follows you like a shadow, practically glued to your back.

The second you both step outside, the cold night air bites at your skin. It’s sharp and brisk, carrying the scent of the city—concrete, car exhaust, something faintly floral from the hotel garden nearby. The moon is full overhead, casting pale silver light across the pavement, catching on Katsuki’s hair like stardust.

He’s still holding your hand, refusing to let go, his grip loose but firm, like his body knows you belong next to him. You glance up at him, the subtle rise and fall of his chest under that perfectly tailored coat, his cheeks still flushed from the drinks and your kiss, and for a moment he looks so soft it makes your heart skip.

You open your mouth to say something, to tease him again maybe—but he moves first.

He turns to face you, steps into your space, and kisses you. Full on. In public.

His mouth is warm and unhurried, lips parted, slightly chapped from the cold. It’s not rough or urgent—not the way he usually kisses, like he’s trying to take something from you, like he's got something to prove. This is different. He’s not pulling at you, just leaning in, into you, his whole body loose with adoration.

Your eyes flutter shut as your fingers come up automatically to cup his jaw. It’s strong under your palms, rough with stubble. You can feel the faint quiver of muscle as he leans deeper into the kiss, like he’s pouring his whole heart into it. His hands slide to your hips, but one slips lower—way lower—and suddenly he’s squeezing your ass like he owns it, tugging you against the length of his body with a groan that’s almost swallowed in your mouth.

“Katsuki—” you murmur against him, breathless, your hands still framing his face.

He just grins.

Grins.

He pulls back and you see it—his eyes still half-lidded and heavy with want, his cheeks a deep, glowing red, and that smile—crooked and boyish and completely unlike him. It’s a look he never gives the cameras, never wears in public. It's yours. Just yours.

“Baby,” you laugh softly, your voice warm and amused, brushing your thumb across his cheek. “You’re so clingy right now.”

He snorts, shoulders shaking slightly. “So?” he grumbles, but there’s no bite to it. “You’re mine.”

Your brows lift in amusement, but your stomach swoops. “So you’re gonna grab my ass in front of paparazzi?”

He shrugs like it’s nothing. Like the idea of headlines tomorrow doesn’t bother him. And maybe it doesn’t. Not tonight. Not with how high he’s riding. Not with the moon overhead, and the cold sharpening every sensation, and your body warm against his.

He leans in again, presses a kiss to your forehead this time, then your cheek, and then just rests his forehead there for a moment, breathing you in. You can feel him smiling against your skin.

“You love it,” he mutters.

And you do. You so do.

Not just the kissing or the way his hands know every curve of your body. But this—this unfiltered, tender, unguarded version of him. The Katsuki who smiles and kisses you and doesn’t care who sees. The Katsuki who’s drunk on victory, and alcohol, and you, and doesn't bother hiding it.

Bakugou Katsuki. Fifth on the Hero Billboard Chart. Known for being intense. Angry. Explosive.

But right now?

He’s yours.

And behind you, somewhere not too far off, you know there’s a shutter click. Maybe even a few. There’s definitely someone in the bushes.

But Katsuki doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t even look around.

Because tonight, all he sees is you.

بل هوَ عبدٌ لضحكتِهِ المُضيئةِ

—it’s enslaved to his radiant grin.

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou #esta’s drabble corner :p #he’s so 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫#i wanna hold him close and kiss his hair and bite his chubby squishy cheek #[fashion killa]#i just can’t stop thinking another him being so happy and grinning #he deserves the world #mha #bnha #bakugo x reader

457 notes · View notes

yukkiji · 24 days ago

Text

surprise, baby

on his birthday, hinata thought you forgot—but what he didn't know was that you were already on a flight, halfway across the world, just to surprise and remind him you'd always be his favorite gift.

haikyuu masterlist. leave a little stardust on my ko-fi

starring. hinata shoyo x fem!reader

genre: fluff, romance, smut, timeskip!hinata

wc: 8.4k

warning: 18+ mdni., smut. nsfw. praise kink. oral (m and f receiving). multiple orgasms. overstimulation. squirting. food play. hair pulling. dom!hinata. unprotected sex. hinata loves readers boobs. lingerie. multiple sex positions. slight voyeurism.

author's note: happy birthday shoyo! this was supposed to be posted yesterday, but i was so busy organizing some stuff huhu

he thought you forgot.

not in the dramatic, storming-out, shouting match kind of way.

but in that quiet, heavy kind of hurt—the one that sits in your chest all day, just waiting for something that never comes.

hinata had already gotten dozens of birthday greetings.

his teammates tackled him in the sand that morning with cheers and a beach-made cake. old friends lit up the group chat. even the landlady knocked on his door with a homemade papaya dessert and sang to him in soft, clumsy portuguese.

but you?

nothing.

but you hadn’t messaged him.

not a single word. not even a “hey.” not even a lazy emoji you sometimes sent when you were tired but still wanted him to know you remembered.

you had always been the first to greet him on his birthday. no matter the difference in time zones. no matter how late it was. even during those stretches where he was halfway across the world, even when you were sick and bedridden, even when he was mid-flight and unreachable—you still found a way. scheduled messages. early voice memos. paper letters you’d timed to arrive at the perfect moment. you’d never once let it pass unnoticed.

but today, there was nothing.

what hurt more was that this wasn’t just today. this was already the second day without a reply from you. his messages yesterday had gone unopened. his usual “good night, i love you” left hanging in the silence. unread. unseen. not even marked.

he had tried to keep himself together. had told himself that maybe you were swamped with work, or sleeping through a long overdue rest, or maybe something had come up and your phone was out of reach. but it was hard to hold onto those thoughts when the hours passed and still nothing came.

he wasn’t angry. he wasn’t even upset, not really.

he was just starting to feel small in the quiet. like maybe he had done something wrong without realizing it. like maybe something between you had shifted and no one had told him. like maybe you had simply… forgotten.

the thought settled into his chest heavier with each hour.

by the time his teammates pulled him to the beach to celebrate, he could barely fake the usual brightness he was known for. he still smiled, still spiked, still cheered when the ball hit sand—but his heart wasn’t in any of it.

his mind kept wandering back to his phone, to the empty screen that hadn’t lit up all day, to the absence of your name that usually came with a teasing message or a voice note just meant for him. the silence carved a hollow space inside him that only grew heavier with each passing hour. he tried not to show it, tried to laugh with his teammates, play like nothing was wrong, but he was sulking—quietly, bitterly. not the kind of sulking that came with loud complaints or visible tantrums, but the kind that settled deep in the chest, dragging everything else down with it.

when the sun had begun to set, casting long orange streaks across the shoreline, his teammates started packing up—their laughter fading into gentle goodbyes. they patted him on the back, ruffled his hair, and wished him a happy birthday one last time, their voices loud and warm, but none of it quite reaching the part of him that mattered. he smiled for them, because he always did, but it didn’t reach his eyes. the ache in his chest was still there, pulsing quietly beneath the surface, heavier now that the day was nearly over and still… nothing from you.

he slung the towel over his shoulder and walked barefoot through the sand, tracing the familiar path that led to the apartment building just a few minutes away. it stood right along the beachfront, nestled in the perfect corner of the coast, where he could still hear the waves crashing as he stepped off the sand and onto pavement. the air smelled like salt and sunscreen, but none of it felt like home the way it usually did. not without you. not with this silence still hanging between you.

opening his door, hinata could feel something shift in his chest. it wasn’t panic, not exactly—but something soft and startling, like a quiet breath held between beats. something didn’t feel right… but at the same time, it did. his eyes dropped to the floor, and there they were—your shoes, neatly placed beside his. not forgotten, not kicked off in a rush, but arranged carefully like you always did when you came over. like you belonged there.

his heart thudded hard against his ribs.

hope bloomed in his chest so suddenly, so fiercely, it almost hurt.

the scent hit him next. lavender. not the sharp kind from candles or air freshener, but the subtle, worn-in kind that always clung to your skin and clothes. like home. like you.

he stepped inside slowly, as if afraid that moving too fast would break the spell. each step down the hallway was cautious, reverent, like he was walking toward something sacred. and then—there they were. your luggages. two of them. sitting near the entrance, still zipped but clearly used, one with your little red tag hanging off the side.

hinata stood there, stunned, for a second too long. his mouth parted. his fingers twitched like he didn’t know what to do with them. and then, like a switch flipping in his chest, he was moving—quiet, quick steps through the hallway, pulse pounding in his ears, something between disbelief and joy burning behind his eyes.

he heard soft humming coming from the kitchen—faint, familiar, and achingly real. he held his breath as he turned the corner, half afraid he was dreaming. but there you were.

standing with your back to him, barefoot on the tile, wearing his shirt—the one you always stole from his closet, oversized and worn, the hem landing just at the tops of your thighs. there was no sign of shorts beneath it, just the bare stretch of your legs moving gently as you swayed to the quiet tune you were humming.

you looked so natural there, like you had never left. like you had always belonged in this space, in his space, in his shirt, humming like the silence hadn’t broken him all day.

hinata’s mouth went dry. his heart slammed against his ribs.

you turned toward him, still smiling, and in your hands was a small cake—messily decorated, the frosting slightly smudged at the edge, and a single candle planted right in the center. the kind of cake you probably had to sneak around to make or buy without him noticing. the kind that made his chest tighten with something overwhelming and warm.

“happy birthday, sho,” you said, your voice soft but steady.

he didn’t speak at first. his throat had closed up, his heart stuttering somewhere between disbelief and relief. he stepped forward slowly, eyes locked on you like you might disappear if he blinked.

“you…” his voice cracked. “you’re here?”

you nodded, smile deepening. “surprise.”

he stared for a second longer, then let out a shaky breath that sounded half like a laugh. “you’re the best birthday gift i’ve ever had.”

you lifted the cake slightly. “should i bring this over to the table or—”

“no,” he said, voice suddenly low, husky. “the cake can wait.”

your eyes widened slightly, heart jumping as he stepped in closer.

“sho—”

“no,” he repeated, curling a hand behind your neck and kissing you breathless. “you kept me waiting all day. two whole days. i thought you forgot me.”

his kiss was hungry, unrelenting, like he was trying to make up for every unread message, every unanswered call. he barely gave you time to set the cake down on the counter before his hands found your waist and lifted you onto it, mouth never leaving yours.

“you sulking was cute, though,” you teased, breathless between kisses.

“don’t,” he groaned, nipping at your lower lip. “i was fucking miserable.”

“guess i should make it up to you, huh?”

his hands slid up your thighs, pushing the hem of his own shirt higher, revealing bare skin and the edge of red lace. when he saw it—really saw it—his breath caught hard in his throat.

“you’re not wearing shorts,” he murmured, voice roughening. his gaze dipped lower, pupils dilating. “and is that…”

you nodded, biting your lip, heat rising to your cheeks. “your favorite. figured you’d be greedy tonight.”

“greedy?” his voice dropped an octave, lips curling into something dangerous. “baby, you have no idea.”

hinata’s hands ghosted up the sides of your thighs, thumbs hooking under the edge of your shirt—his shirt—and in one slow, reverent motion, he peeled it off you.

his breath hitched again.

the red lace bra was barely anything—completely see-through, your nipples soft and peaked under the delicate floral pattern, the fabric kissing your skin like a whisper. his hands froze, breath stuttering out of him as his eyes dragged over you like he hadn’t seen you in years.

“holy shit,” he murmured, reverently. “you wore this for me?”

you nodded, lips parted, watching his jaw clench and unclench. “it’s been months since you’ve touched me, sho. figured i’d give you something to remember tonight by.”

“months,” he echoed, voice dropping. “yeah. too fucking long.”

his mouth was on your breast in the next second—licking over the sheer lace, tongue wet and hot as he swirled over your nipple before closing his lips around it and sucking. the friction of the fabric sent sparks shooting straight to your core. you gasped, back arching, and he groaned against your skin.

“fuck, i missed your taste,” he mumbled, moving to your other breast. “missed everything. the way you sound, the way you moan, the way you fall apart for me.”

your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging just enough to make him growl.

and then, without warning, he dropped to his knees in front of the counter.

his hands slid down your thighs again, and he kissed the inside of your knee like it was sacred. “stay right there, baby.”

you shivered as he spread your legs wide on the counter, eyes locked with yours the entire time.

“look at you,” he whispered. “you’re already so wet for me.”

your panties—thin, red, and nearly transparent—were soaked through. the triangle of fabric barely covered you, and from his position between your thighs, the evidence of your arousal glistened even through the lace.

he didn’t touch yet.

instead, he leaned in, tongue flat and hot as he licked the wet fabric slowly, from bottom to top, groaning into you like he was starved. the sensation made your thighs twitch, your body instinctively rocking toward his mouth.

“fuck—sho—”

“mmhm,” he hummed, doing it again. “you taste just as good through this. but i want more.”

he pulled the panties aside, fingers sliding the soaked lace down your legs and tossing it somewhere behind him. your cunt was exposed now, dripping, desperate.

“perfect,” he said softly, almost in awe. “absolutely perfect.”

then—he smirked, reached over the counter, and grabbed the little cake.

“sho?” you blinked.

he dipped his finger into the frosting, gathered a dollop, and smeared it gently over your clit.

“you surprised me,” he said, licking the icing off his fingertip. “so i’m returning the favor.”

and then he devoured you.

his mouth latched onto your icing-covered clit, tongue flicking, sucking, licking in slow, messy circles as you cried out and gripped the edge of the counter. the mixture of sweetness and heat made your head spin. his tongue was relentless—pressing into you, tracing every inch, flicking just right as he sucked the icing clean, only to go again like he couldn’t get enough.

your hips rolled into his face. he groaned like it was heaven.

“taste even better than i remember,” he said between licks, voice muffled, tongue greedy. “missed this. missed you.”

“sho—i’m gonna—!”

he flattened his tongue and circled harder, letting your orgasm crash over you right there on the counter. your moans echoed off the kitchen tiles, and your thighs clamped around his head. he stayed buried, licking you through the waves, only pulling back when you slumped forward, gasping.

“one,” he said with a grin, licking his lips. “and we’re just getting started.”

your eyes fluttered, still hazy. “oh my god…”

before you could recover, hinata leaned in and kissed you again—slow and deep, tongue curling against yours, mouth tasting of sugar and sin. his hands moved with purpose, slipping behind your back, fingers unclasping your bra in one practiced motion. he didn’t even wait for it to slide off completely before trailing his kisses downward, lips hot and eager against your neck, your collarbone, the slope between your breasts. he was leaving soft, open-mouthed kisses that turned into love bites, dotting your skin with little red blooms, hungry to worship every inch of you he’d been missing.

but when he reached the valley of your chest, his breath hot and panting against your skin, you suddenly pushed him back with a palm to his shoulder.

“wait—” he blinked at you, slightly breathless, confused and aroused all at once. “what’s wrong?”

you smirked, eyes gleaming with mischief as you reached for the small frosting piping bag you had made earlier. the one you used to decorate his cake just hours ago. you didn't say a word as you squeezed the tip and drew a slow, teasing swirl right over one nipple—then the other. thick, glossy icing coated your skin in spirals and streaks, and you didn’t stop there. you smeared it with your fingers, dragging it across your breasts, sticky and sweet, your breath hitching at the sensation.

it was messy. decadent. obscene. and the sticky chill of frosting mixing with your heat made your nipples pebble instantly.

“holy fuck,” hinata breathed.

you bit your lip, watching his jaw flex as he stared at you—at your breasts, now gleaming with icing, skin flushed and shimmering. you felt sticky, yes, but your horniness drowned out everything else. the way he looked at you—like he was unraveling—made your core clench.

“you’re really trying to kill me,” he muttered, kneeling again with purpose. “you know that?”

“i’m just giving you your birthday cake,” you teased, voice husky. “what, don’t you want a taste?”

hinata didn’t answer. he just dove in.

his tongue dragged a long, slow line up your breast, collecting frosting and saliva in one warm pass. you gasped, fingers flying into his hair, hips instinctively arching toward him. he latched onto one nipple, groaning at the mix of sweet and skin, sucking greedily before switching to the other—licking, nibbling, moaning like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted.

and maybe it was.

“so good,” he breathed between licks. “you’re so fucking sweet, baby.”

his mouth left your skin with a wet sound, only for him to grab the piping bag from your lax fingers. he gave you a look—mischievous, ravenous—and squeezed another thick swirl of icing directly onto your already overstimulated, perked-up nipple. the cool frosting made you shiver violently, a sharp gasp tearing from your throat.

“let’s see how much more you can take,” he murmured, licking his lips, eyes locked on your chest like a man worshiping something divine.

you could feel it now—the heat between your legs turning molten. your slickness was dripping onto the counter, a soft obscene sound every time your thighs shifted. it was shameless, messy, and utterly overwhelming. but you didn’t care. not when he looked at you like this. not when his tongue was back on your chest, slowly, torturously licking the icing off again—sucking your nipple into his mouth and groaning deep in his throat like he needed it to live.

you whimpered, arching toward him, fingers trembling as they gripped the edge of the counter behind you. your pussy throbbed—clenching around nothing, begging for his fingers, his tongue, his cock—anything.

hinata’s mouth never left your chest.

he squeezed the last bit of frosting from the piping bag, slow and deliberate, letting thick spirals drip onto your breasts. he painted over the curve of one, then the other, covering your skin in messy loops until the whole surface was sticky, shimmering in sugar and saliva. your nipples were red, achingly hard, buried under icing and his insistent tongue.

“fuck, you’re unreal,” he groaned as he licked across your sternum, dragging his mouth from one nipple to the other, switching between soft sucks and sharp flicks of his tongue. “so fucking good. so soft. i could do this all night.”

he was doing it all night.

each slow drag of his mouth made your thighs tremble. your core ached from neglect, slick pooling between your legs, soaking the counter beneath you. you needed relief—needed it—but he was still so focused on your breasts, on cleaning up every bit of the mess he made. the frosting was almost gone now, melting into your skin from his body heat and saliva, leaving behind a sticky sheen that only made everything filthier.

desperate, you let one hand trail down your stomach, slipping between your thighs. your fingers found your clit instantly—wet, swollen, throbbing—and you began to rub tight, fast circles, chasing your second orgasm. your eyes fluttered shut, lips parting in a gasp.

and then suddenly—slap.

a sharp sound filled the air. your hand jerked away on instinct.

hinata had slapped it.

“ah—sho—”

his eyes were dark. mouth still glistening, fingers gripping your wrist as he pulled your hand away from your pussy. his jaw clenched as he stared at you—something between mock scolding and complete lust.

“you really think i’m gonna let you do that yourself?” he growled, grabbing your thighs and yanking you closer to the edge of the counter. “you’re mine tonight. only i get to make you cum.”

before you could answer, two fingers slid inside you—deep, fast, curling just right. you gasped, legs flying open wider as your walls clenched down hard. hinata leaned forward again, still playing with your breasts, licking and sucking, all while his fingers thrust deep into your soaked pussy, curling up into your sweet spot over and over again.

“fuck—you’re already so tight,” he grunted, voice low against your chest. “you were gonna come without me, huh? greedy little thing.”

your hips bucked, moans pouring out of you as his fingers worked you faster, thumb circling your clit in perfect sync. your body was already on edge—still sensitive from the first orgasm, hypersensitive from his mouth, the frosting, the heat, everything.

“sh-sho—i’m gonna—!”

“yeah, you are,” he murmured, dragging his tongue across your nipple again. “give it to me, baby. let me feel you.”

your eyes rolled back, mouth falling open in a silent cry as your second orgasm ripped through you. your walls spasmed around his fingers, juices gushing out and soaking his hand, your thighs, the counter. hinata groaned at the sight, watching you unravel—your body arching, tits bouncing, mouth slack with pleasure.

he didn't stop right away. his fingers slowed, easing you down from the high, but he was still inside you, still pressing soft kisses across your sticky, marked-up chest like he wasn’t finished yet.

because he wasn’t.

hinata grabbed you by the waist and lifted you off the counter, steadying you when your legs wobbled from the two orgasms he’d already pulled from you. your skin was flushed and still glistening—sticky from sweat and frosting, breasts shining from his tongue and attention. you were bare, completely, the red lace discarded somewhere behind you, leaving nothing between you and his greedy hands.

he turned you around gently, and you let him—your palms bracing the edge of the counter again as he took a moment to admire you. your back arched, hips tilted up, ass fully on display—slick dripping down your thighs. you felt his hand trail up your spine slowly, fingers light and reverent. then came his mouth.

he pressed soft kisses along your back, trailing down your spine like a slow fuse of heat. when he reached your lower back, he groaned quietly, then dropped to his knees again.

his lips pressed to the crease where your thigh met your ass, kissing slowly before his tongue dipped lower—licking a long stripe through your folds.

you shuddered, gripping the counter.

“so fucking wet,” he murmured, voice thick, just inches from your core. “and i haven’t even touched you properly yet.”

his mouth sealed over your clit in the next second, sucking hard.

you cried out, knees buckling slightly. his hands gripped your ass firmly to keep you upright, spreading you open wider. he devoured you like he was starved—groaning against your pussy, tongue moving in slow, thorough circles until your moans turned shaky again.

when you clenched around nothing, desperate for more, he pulled away with one last lick, standing quickly. and before you could even turn around, he spun you to face him and caught your mouth in another deep kiss—messy, wet, tasting entirely of your arousal.

you whimpered into it, wrapping your arms around his shoulders just as his hands found your thighs.

he picked you up with ease—your bare, slick body clinging to his like you belonged there. instinct had you wrapping your legs around his waist, the heat of his cock pressing against your pussy through the fabric of his shorts, your body arching toward him, needing friction.

your hands fumbled at the hem of his shirt, dragging it up over his chest. he broke the kiss just long enough to pull it off and toss it aside, his eyes never leaving yours.

“bed?” you breathed against his lips.

hinata didn’t say a word. he carried you down the hallway like you were weightless, like he needed you in the bedroom now.

your back hit the mattress seconds later, the sheets cool against your overheated skin. hinata hovered over you, bare-chested and flushed, his eyes dark with something raw and aching. but it was his body—broad and lean with muscle, every inch of him toned and golden from the brazilian sun—that made your breath hitch. his shoulders looked wider, his arms more defined, and his chest, glistening slightly with sweat, flexed as he held himself over you. his abs tensed with every breath. he was bigger. stronger. tan and utterly unfair. the sight of him alone made your pussy clench with need.

“you got hotter,” you whispered, breathless, fingers trailing down the sharp cut of his abs.

he smirked, leaning closer until his lips hovered just above yours. “you’re one to talk,” he murmured, eyes raking down your naked body like he was starving. “you’re dripping. i’ve barely touched you again.”

and just like that, he kissed you—deep and full of promise—like he planned to make good on every filthy thought running through his mind.

your chest rose and fell as you stared up at him, lips swollen from his kisses, body already aching in all the right places. he looked like a dream above you—hair messy, golden skin glowing in the low light, chest still heaving from how tightly he’d held himself back. but you wanted to give him something too. needed to.

“can i suck you off?” you whispered, voice shy but laced with hunger.

his jaw clenched, nostrils flaring just slightly. you watched the way his cock twitched beneath the waistband of his shorts. he didn’t answer at first—just sat back, chest rising with anticipation as he shifted to the edge of the bed and spread his legs slightly, his eyes locked on yours.

“you wanna be my good girl tonight?” he murmured, voice thick, already dazed from how ruined you looked.

you nodded eagerly, slipping off the bed and dropping to your knees on the floor in front of him, your bare body catching the dim light, curves still flushed and slick from everything he'd already done. your eyes met his, lips parted as your fingers reached for his waistband. he raised his hips to help, letting you pull his shorts and briefs down in one slow motion.

his cock sprang free—hard, flushed at the tip, already leaking with precum. you licked your lips at the sight.

“so pretty,” you whispered, wrapping your hand around the base and giving him a slow stroke.

hinata groaned low in his throat, one hand sinking into your hair. “fuck, you look so good on your knees. my pretty girl.”

you leaned in, tongue flicking out to lap at the bead of precum at the tip. his thighs tensed, and you smiled—then dragged your tongue slowly along the underside of his cock, licking from base to tip like you were savoring it.

“just like that,” he breathed, eyes heavy. “such a good girl for me…”

you wrapped your lips around him, hollowing your cheeks as you slowly began to take him deeper. your hand stroked what your mouth couldn’t reach yet, and you could feel his grip in your hair tighten—gentle but possessive, like he didn’t want to let go.

his head fell back slightly, a moan slipping from his lips as you bobbed your head, tongue swirling, sucking harder when he twitched in your mouth.

“fuck, baby…” he hissed, hips jerking slightly. “your mouth feels like heaven.”

he looked down again, watching you with blown pupils, chest rising and falling harder now. “look at you… on your knees for me, taking it so well. such a fucking good girl.”

you moaned around him in response, loving the way his praise made heat coil in your belly all over again. spit dribbled from the corner of your mouth, but you didn’t stop—not when his muscles tensed, not when his voice dropped into a groan that sounded like it had been building for weeks.

“you keep going like that,” he warned, voice almost breaking, “and i’m gonna cum down that pretty throat.”

your eyes fluttered shut for a moment, moaning softly around him—loving the weight of his cock on your tongue, the way his fingers threaded so gently through your hair, thumb brushing over your cheek like you were fragile in his hands.

but you weren’t. not for him.

and hinata knew it.

without a word, he fisted your hair into a makeshift ponytail and pulled you back just an inch—just enough to look down into your eyes with something dark and hungry swimming in his.

“fuck, look at you,” he groaned. “all pretty and desperate. you can take it, right? be my good girl and take it?”

you nodded as best you could, lips stretching wide again as you opened up for him, tongue flat, throat ready.

then he moved.

his hips thrust forward sharply—fucking his cock deep into your mouth, the head hitting the back of your throat on the second thrust. your hands scrambled to brace against his thighs, nails digging into the hard muscle as tears pricked your eyes instantly.

“shit—shit,” hinata moaned, his voice unraveling. “that’s it, baby, take it— god, just like that—”

his pace quickened, shallow but fast, each thrust pushing deeper down your throat. spit was dripping from your chin now, the obscene wet sounds of your mouth echoing through the room. your eyes blurred with tears, mascara streaking, but you didn’t care. you moaned around him, letting him use your mouth, letting the pleasure of being his favorite ruin wash through you.

he looked down and groaned hard—seeing you with glassy, wet eyes and flushed cheeks, his cock buried in your throat, lips stretched and drool coating your chin.

“fuck, you’re so pretty like this,” he panted. “ruined just for me.”

you blinked up at him, eyes overflowing, and that was what did it.

he groaned deep from his chest, hips stuttering. “gonna cum—baby, fuck—”

he pulled out just before the edge, hand still tight in your hair as his cock twitched in front of your lips, thick ropes of cum spilling across your tongue and chin as he moaned your name like a prayer. some of it dripped down your chest, streaking across your already sticky skin and frosting-coated breasts.

you swallowed what you could, licking him clean with slow, teasing swipes of your tongue.

when you finally looked up at him again, breathing heavy, cheeks flushed, makeup utterly destroyed—mascara smudged, eyeliner running, lipstick long gone—he just stared. eyes wide. mesmerized.

“jesus,” he breathed. “you look so fucking hot like this.”

his thumb reached to wipe under your eye, smearing the tears and makeup even more.

“my pretty girl,” he whispered, voice thick with lust and awe as he pulled you up into his lap. his hands were steady on your hips, grounding you, while his cock—still slick from your mouth and already twitching back to life—pressed hot and heavy against your thigh.

you felt the ache in your core pulse with need, the emptiness of the past months catching up to you all at once. his fingers squeezed your waist gently, guiding you as you raised yourself onto your knees. the tip of his cock brushed against your folds, and you both gasped at the contact.

“fuck, i missed you,” you murmured, forehead resting against his. “missed this. missed you.”

hinata’s eyes flickered up to yours, jaw clenched with restraint. “baby, you have no idea how long i’ve dreamed about this.”

you began to sink down slowly, your hands bracing against his shoulders. the stretch was intense after so long—months of nothing but phone sex, teasing words whispered across staticky calls, fingers between your own thighs as you imagined it was him instead. and now he was here, hot and hard and deep, splitting you open in the most perfect way.

your head fell back, a moan tumbling from your lips. “god—shoyo—you feel so good. i almost forgot how big you are…”

his grip tightened. “yeah?” he panted, watching every inch as you slid down him. “forgot how full i make you feel, baby?”

“mhm—fuck, yes—i tried,” you gasped, your thighs trembling as you bottomed out fully, his cock buried deep inside. “but nothing—nothing compares to this. to you.”

you could feel everything. every vein, every pulse. he filled you so completely, so perfectly, it was almost overwhelming.

“used to fuck myself thinking about this,” you confessed breathlessly, hips already beginning to rock, slow and desperate. “had to put my pillow between my legs while i listened to you on the phone—pretending it was you.”

hinata groaned deep, his head falling against your shoulder. “fuck—baby—you’re killing me.”

his hands slid down to your ass, squeezing hard as you began to move, riding him with long, slow grinds. he met your rhythm, thrusting up to meet you as his mouth found your neck again.

“you think i didn’t do the same?” he muttered into your skin. “jerking off with my phone on my chest, moaning your name, fucking my hand while i imagined you saying ‘please, shoyo, cum inside me’.”

you clenched around him at the words, whimpering.

“i need you to,” you cried. “please—i want to feel you fill me again.”

“oh baby,” he rasped, guiding your hips harder now. “i’m gonna give it to you. again and again. until you can’t walk tomorrow.”

and from the way you started bouncing faster on his cock, your body already arching with building pleasure, he knew you wanted exactly that.

hinata’s gaze dropped, utterly mesmerized.

your breasts moved with every bounce—soft, flushed, still faintly sticky from the frosting he’d licked off earlier—and it was hypnotic. they jiggled beautifully each time your hips met his, your body riding him with abandon. his hands gripped your waist, then slid up slowly to cup your chest, thumbs brushing over your nipples, making you whimper even harder.

“look at you,” he breathed, voice trembling. “so fucking perfect—fuck—these tits, baby, they were made for me to touch, weren’t they?”

you nodded, already breathless, crying out when he pinched your nipples between his fingers just enough to sting.

“say it,” he demanded, rutting up into you as your thighs started to shake.

“they’re yours,” you gasped, hands clawing at his shoulders for balance. “they’re all yours, shoyo—everything. my body, my pussy—fuck—yours.”

his mouth found your breast again, tongue swirling around your nipple as he slammed up into you, the wet slap of skin-on-skin echoing in the room. you nearly sobbed from the pressure building inside, his cock hitting all the right spots, your clit brushing perfectly against his pelvis with every bounce.

he leaned back just a little, eyes wild, watching your slick drip down his cock every time you lifted your hips.

“you gonna cum again for me?” he asked, voice low, desperate. “gonna cum while i’m still deep inside you?”

you nodded frantically, tears pricking your eyes. “yes—yes, baby, i’m so close, don’t stop—”

and he didn’t. his grip on your hips turned bruising, his cock thrusting up with more urgency as he chased your high right alongside his own.

“good girl,” he growled, his lips trailing back up to yours. “cum for me, my pretty girl. be good and let me feel you—”

you shattered with a scream, walls clenching so tightly around him that it made his hips stutter. your orgasm crashed through you like a wave, your entire body trembling in his lap, thighs locking tight around him.

hinata barely held on—his own orgasm hitting seconds after yours. he groaned your name, hips jerking erratically as he emptied inside of you, cock twitching deep within your fluttering walls.

he held you close as you both trembled, sweat slicked skin sticking together, your forehead against his as you caught your breath.

and when he finally pulled back to look at you, his cum already starting to drip down your inner thighs, he only smiled.

“fuck… we’re doing that again,” he whispered. “many times.”

and true to his words, he had you on your back seconds later, your legs folded high against your chest, his hands pinning them there as he settled between your thighs. the position had you completely open to him—spread wide and vulnerable, slick and swollen, still pulsing from your last orgasm.

his cock slid back inside with little resistance, the stretch just as deep and satisfying as the first time. you both moaned in unison, your fingers clutching at the sheets as he bottomed out completely.

“this—” hinata hissed through clenched teeth, “—this is where i belong. right here, inside you.”

he pressed forward, folding you tighter beneath him, his face just inches above yours as his hips began to roll. each thrust was deep, slow at first—measured and purposeful—making sure you felt every inch of him. your breath hitched with every movement, nails raking down his back as he filled you up all over again.

“you feel so fucking good,” he gritted out. “so wet, so tight. like you were made for me, baby.”

“i was,” you moaned, barely coherent. “shoyo, please—don’t stop—i want more.”

“yeah?” he growled, pace quickening. “you want more? my greedy girl.”

he leaned down, lips brushing against yours as his thrusts picked up, cock slamming into you with a force that had the headboard knocking against the wall. your breasts bounced with every movement, body jolting with the pressure and pleasure as he fucked you into the mattress.

his praise was relentless—“that’s it, take it like the good girl you are,” and “so tight, baby, always clenching around me like you don’t want to let me go.” his mouth trailed down your jaw to your neck, kissing and biting, marking you as his.

and all you could do was take it. the angle was perfect—his cock hitting so deep you swore you saw stars. your moans became cries, your hands flying to his back, then to his arms, your legs trembling in his hold as another orgasm built like fire in your core.

“gonna cum again, baby?” he panted, his voice hoarse. “cum on this cock for me—make a mess all over me again.”

“shoyo—oh my god—yes, yes, i’m gonna—!”

you shattered beneath him, the pressure too much, your orgasm ripping through you hard enough to make your vision blur. you screamed his name, body locking up under his relentless pace as you gushed around him, slick and heat coating his cock.

he groaned loud and deep when he felt you cum, his hips jerking wildly before he drove in one last time and spilled inside you again. hot and thick and overwhelming, it filled you up, his cock twitching deep as he rode out the waves of his own climax.

but even when you were shaking, overstimulated, whining from the sensitivity—he didn’t pull out.

he just leaned down, kissing your lips tenderly as he whispered, “one more, baby. just one more. you can give me that, right?”

you barely had time to recover before he was moving again, his strong arms flipping you onto your stomach with ease. your cheek pressed into the pillows, legs still trembling when you felt the blunt head of his cock nudging your entrance from behind.

“up, baby,” he whispered, voice low and wrecked. “on your hands for me.”

you obeyed, slowly pushing yourself up on shaky arms, arching your back the way you knew he liked—your ass high, your slick glistening in the low light of the bedroom.

“fuck,” he hissed, running his hands over your hips. “look at this. you’re dripping.”

with a low groan, he pushed back into you—deep, hard, one fluid thrust that made you cry out, your arms shaking beneath you.

his pace was ruthless, hips slamming against your ass with a wet, loud rhythm, his groans matching your broken moans. he gripped your waist tightly, angling just right to hit the deepest part of you with every thrust, and it was dizzying.

“sh-shoyo, i can’t—” you gasped, tears forming in your eyes again from the intensity. “feels too good—”

“yes, you can,” he growled. “you’ve been so good for me. my pretty girl can take it.”

and just as you felt him twitch, just when you knew he was close, hinata did something that made your breath completely vanish.

he pulled you up.

his arm wrapped tight around your waist and dragged you against him, your back hitting his sweaty chest as he stayed buried inside you. you moaned out loud, the new angle even deeper—fuller—your neck falling back against his shoulder.

his other hand found your breast, groping the soft flesh, playing with your nipple as he kissed the shell of your ear. his cock was still thrusting, deep and purposeful, while his fingers slid between your legs again, finding your clit and circling it with skill that had your knees buckling.

“shoyo—please—”

“you’re so close,” he panted into your ear, grinding his cock deeper. “i can feel you. clenching around me like you’re trying to milk me dry.”

his fingers worked your clit faster, his other hand tugging at your nipple, and the heat inside your belly snapped—your fourth orgasm tearing through you like lightning. you screamed his name, your entire body shaking in his arms, his cock locked tight inside your pulsing walls.

“fuck, that’s it—that’s it,” he growled, and with one more deep thrust, he buried himself fully inside and came hard.

hot spurts filled you again, his hips jerking, his breath hot and ragged against your skin as he held you tightly, both of you trembling from the intensity. you felt everything—his arms around you, his lips on your neck, his cum dripping down your thighs—and you never wanted it to stop.

“my girl,” he breathed, still rocking gently inside you. “my pretty, perfect, greedy girl.”

and when you finally collapsed forward onto the bed, boneless and spent, he followed—blanketing your body with his, still hard inside you, not ready to let go.

not yet.

you should’ve been asleep. after everything—after all those orgasms, after his cum still dripping between your thighs—you should’ve been done.

but the way hinata’s lips kissed the sweat off your shoulder and how his hands gently kneaded your hips as he whispered, “one more, baby. i want to taste you again…”—you couldn’t say no.

and that’s how you found yourself on the chair outside on his balcony, the night air cool against your sticky skin. rio’s glow shimmered in the distance, a faint breeze brushing over your fever-warmed body. your legs were spread wide over the arms of the chair, your pussy already glistening, open and wet from everything he gave you earlier.

hinata knelt before you like a man starved, eyes locked on your core like it was the only thing in the world he craved.

“look at you,” he muttered, voice low with awe. “still leaking from me. fuck, i missed this taste.”

his hands slid beneath your thighs, gripping tight, and when his tongue made first contact—flat and slow from base to clit—you moaned loud enough that someone might have heard.

you didn’t care.

your hands immediately found your breasts, fingers tugging at your own nipples as your head dropped back against the chair. the red lace had long been discarded, and now you were bare under the stars, on full display, as hinata devoured you like a man possessed.

he noticed what you were doing, of course. “god, look at you,” he rasped between licks. “touching your pretty tits while i eat you out. do you have any idea how fucking hot that is?”

you whimpered, twisting your nipples harder, the sensation mixing with the slick flicks of his tongue, the rough scrape of his teeth, and the soft suction around your clit that sent shocks of pleasure down your spine.

he moaned into you when he felt you start to shake again.

“that’s it. cum for me, baby. make a mess all over me.”

and you did.

your body seized, the orgasm crashing into you so violently it left you breathless. your legs trembled uncontrollably, and when he didn’t stop—when he kept licking, sucking, growling—you squirted, a sharp cry ripping from your throat as your hips bucked into his face.

but hinata didn’t pull back.

he groaned as you squirted again, wetter this time, your juices splashing onto his tongue and chin. he pulled back for just a moment, absolutely soaked, grinning as he wiped his face with the back of his hand and said, “fuck, i missed this pussy. she missed me too, huh?”

your body was still twitching in the chair when he stood, his cock rock-hard again.

he didn’t even wait.

he pulled you up, turned the chair slightly to face the view, and bent you over the armrest with your ass presented perfectly for him. he slid back into you with ease, a deep, wet glide that had you both moaning.

“sh-shoyo—i can’t,” you whimpered.

“yes, you can,” he growled, thrusting deep. “i need to feel you cum one more time.”

and he fucked you like he meant it—fast, hard, hips snapping against your ass, his hand sneaking between your legs to play with your clit again. your breasts bounced with every thrust, still sensitive, and your moans echoed off the quiet buildings.

“gonna make you squirt again,” he panted, voice wild, one hand gripping your hip while the other found your breast—kneading it roughly, fingers pinching at your sensitive nipple. “gonna fuck it out of you.”

you cried out, trembling beneath him, every nerve ending already alight. “shoyo—i don’t… i can’t—”

“yes, you can,” he growled against your ear, his thrusts picking up again, deep and hungry. “you’re doing so good. taking me so well.”

your body jolted with each stroke, his cock dragging against every slick, swollen inch inside you. your breasts bounced in his hands, too sensitive, too raw, but you didn’t want him to stop. your legs were weak, hips slapping against the edge of the chair, but all you could think about was how full you felt. how deep he was. how he just kept going.

you were already overstimulated—eyes wet, chest flushed, every moan breaking in your throat—but the way he filled you, the way his voice dripped with praise and hunger, you wanted it.

and then—

you shattered.

your release hit like a tidal wave, your body seizing as you squirted again, helplessly, soaking his hips and thighs. you moaned—sobbed—as the wetness gushed out of you, dripping down your legs, splashing onto the chair and hinata’s body.

“fuck, baby,” he groaned, watching it happen with a mix of awe and pure arousal. “look at you. so messy for me.”

you thought he might stop, let you catch your breath—but he didn’t.

he kept thrusting, slower now but just as deep, chasing his own high, both hands now gripping your waist tight.

you were shaking, overstimulated and aching, but you didn’t want him to pull out. you needed it—you needed him.

and with a low, broken moan, he buried himself one final time, his hips pressed flush against your ass as he came. hot, thick release filled you, pulse after pulse, warmth flooding deep inside.

he didn’t move for a moment, just breathed raggedly against your back, arms wrapped around you.

when he finally pulled out, his cock slid free with a wet sound, and your body gave a little involuntary shudder. his cum was already dripping from your swollen folds—thick and slow and so much of it. some of it smeared down your inner thighs, mixing with your slick and everything else he’d wrung from you tonight.

he reached down lazily, dragging two fingers through the mess between your legs and groaned softly. “fuck… i’m gonna be thinking about this for weeks.”

you were boneless in his arms, utterly spent, skin still sticky with sweat and your release. outside, the night had quieted. the air was humid with the sea breeze drifting through the open windows, but the heat that had built between your bodies still clung to your skin.

without a word, hinata scooped you up.

you didn’t resist. couldn’t, really. your muscles had melted into a hazy tremble, and the soft hum of afterglow blurred your senses. your cheek rested against his shoulder, eyelids fluttering shut as he walked you into the bathroom.

the scent of lavender hit you first.

you blinked, dazed, as you noticed the tub already filling. he must’ve turned it on before the last round. steam rolled off the surface of the water, laced with a familiar calming fragrance. one of the bath oils you always left in the cabinet.

"figured you'd want this after your flight," he said softly, kneeling down with you still in his arms before gently sliding you into the tub.

a small gasp escaped your lips as the warm water wrapped around your tired body like a second skin. you leaned back against the ceramic edge with a sigh, feeling the first ripple of relief loosen your aching limbs.

but then he stepped in, too.

hinata lowered himself behind you, his long legs bracketing yours as he pulled you against his chest. his skin was so warm. his arms—so solid—wrapped around your waist, anchoring you to him. you felt small in his hold, delicate even after everything he’d done to you tonight.

his hands moved slowly—massaging up and down your sides with deliberate care. the pads of his thumbs found your hips, working small circles into them before he kissed your temple.

“you okay?” he murmured into your hair.

you hummed in response, letting your head fall back against his shoulder. “mhm. just… warm.”

“that’s good,” he said, brushing a damp lock of hair behind your ear. “you were amazing tonight.”

you flushed even deeper beneath the water. it felt silly to be shy after everything, but the way he was speaking to you—gentle, reverent—it made your chest feel tight.

his hands dipped lower, fingers grazing the tops of your thighs beneath the water. the movement was slow. soothing.

until he dragged one hand inward.

you tensed.

"shoyo…" your voice came out barely above a whisper, thick with exhaustion and lingering arousal.

“shh,” he breathed, voice husky and soft. “not trying to start anything. just want to help you relax.”

but his fingers pressed into your clit anyway—tentative at first, circling lightly, letting the warmth of the water soothe the sting of your overstimulated nerves.

you whimpered, body twitching in the tub. his other hand came up, cupping your breast, and your head fell back harder against him as your breath hitched.

“you’re still so sensitive,” he said with a soft smile, fingers teasing around your nipple. “look at you, baby. still wet for me. even now.”

you squirmed in his lap, thighs clenching around his hand beneath the surface. your legs were still weak, and the water only made it harder to fight the way your body responded to him.

“shoyo… it’s too much,” you whispered, even as your hips began to roll slowly into his fingers.

“you can take it,” he murmured, kissing down the side of your face. “just a little more. just want to see you let go again.”

his fingers moved with practiced rhythm—circling your clit in just the way he knew you liked. your body arched, pressing back into his chest, your hands gripping his thighs as the pleasure rose again, relentless and sweet.

you couldn’t stop the moans that left your lips. not even when you tried.

“there you go,” he whispered against your ear. “just like that. my pretty girl. let go.”

and you did.

you didn’t even know how many times you’d come at this point. your mind was hazy, body weightless, every nerve ending frayed from the pleasure he kept coaxing out of you. the latest orgasm—whatever number it was—hit you like a soft crash of waves, blooming low in your stomach and rippling out in molten, aching pulses.

your breath caught. then broke. and all you could do was slump back into him, limbs boneless, heart pounding against your chest like it was trying to remember how to beat.

“that’s it, baby,” he whispered, holding you tighter. “that’s my girl.”

he didn’t move. just stayed there with you in the water, arms anchored around your waist, his chest rising and falling steadily behind your back. he pressed a kiss to your temple. then one to your jaw. and another—longer, slower—to the crown of your head.

his hands never left your body. they kept tracing lazy circles over your hips, up your ribs, as if to calm every aftershock still wracking through you.

after a while, the water began to cool, and hinata gently shifted behind you. “come on,” he whispered against your damp skin, arms slipping beneath your knees and back, “let’s get you warm and dry.”

you didn’t protest—couldn’t, really—your body limp in his hold as he lifted you effortlessly from the bath. he moved carefully, tender in every step, as though you were something precious. the towel he wrapped you in was plush and warm, and his hands were patient, drying every inch of your skin with a care that made your chest ache.

he dried himself quickly after, hair tousled and damp, torso still glistening under the soft bathroom lights. he caught your gaze in the mirror and smirked, cocking a brow.

“wanna wear one of my shirts?” he asked, voice a little rough, a little teasing.

you leaned into him from behind, pressing your lips to the slope of his back, then murmured, “no. just wanna sleep naked with you.”

his laugh was quiet but smug. “oh? bold of you, babe. you do know i have very little self-control around you, right?”

you rolled your eyes with a sleepy smile. “you’ve already wrecked me tonight. i think i’m safe.”

“we’ll see,” he murmured playfully.

by the time you both made it to bed, the moonlight spilling in through the curtains, you’d already forgotten how exhaustion felt. the sheets were cool, the air soft, and hinata’s skin warm against yours as he slid in behind you, arms wrapping around your waist.

your breasts pressed to his chest, bare and warm, but it wasn’t sexual—not this time. just grounding. comforting.

he rested his chin on top of your head, one hand drawing absentminded shapes along the small of your back. stars, maybe. a volleyball. a heart. he didn’t say anything about it, but you could feel the smile tugging at his lips every time your breath hitched from the ticklish trails.

you let out a low hum. “you didn’t answer me.”

“hmm?” his voice was drowsy now, heavy with contentment.

“did you like your present?” you whispered, fingers grazing his ribs. “me. flying here. surprising you.”

his reply was immediate—murmured into your hair with a reverence that made your stomach flutter. “you’re the best gift i’ve ever gotten.”

your throat tightened.

he kissed your temple and added with a soft chuckle, “though, the red lingerie and frosting on your tits did bump you up to god-tier.”

you laughed, smacking his side lightly, but you could hear the affection laced between the tease. and you knew, without him having to say it again—

he loved you. wholly. hungrily. reverently.

and as you drifted off, tangled in his arms with your bare skin pressed to his beneath the hush of moonlight, you knew this would be a birthday he’d never forget—not because of the cake, or the surprises, or even the lingerie.

but because you were there.

his favorite person, his greatest gift.

finally home.

842 notes · View notes