#They said I sounded like a maniac in one moment :[

[follineo]

UUUUGHGGHGHGHGH,,,,

[lymtw]

Toji can't ignore the sounds of your moans and whimpers through the wall. He's sitting on the couch, in the living room, unable to do anything about it, because you're still mad at him, and he's frustrated as hell, because he's so painfully hard, that he can see his dick twitching against the front of his sweats. He refuses to take care of it himself when he knows you're only a room away. To his convenience, you're already in the mood—clearly—but to his inconvenience, you're punishing him. You're scattering his name into your moans to throw salt in the wound, to really make it unbearable, and truthfully, it's getting to him.

Toji reached his limit when he heard you let out a sharp gasp, followed by the sound of those cries you let out when you cum hard. He strides over to your shared bedroom, opening the door to reveal your naked lower body, and your tank top scrunched up over your chest. His breath hitches, the throbbing in his pants intensifying as he rakes his eyes over your frame and absorbs the entire sight of you.

"You're really gonna get yourself off to the thought of me, when i'm right outside?" His incredulous tone doesn't do a good job of hiding the desperation that led him to barge into the room where you're splayed out so indecently.

"Mhm..." you hum, blissfully. You release a heavy, satisfied sigh. "That's exactly what I just did, 'cause you're on a time out," you say, tugging your shirt back down and pulling up your underwear, before sitting up to search for your shorts. "Don't worry. I finished. I'm done torturing you."

He can't let it be over. This normally wouldn't be enough to satisfy you. From what he heard, it seems like you only came once.

"Baby, no," he almost whines. He's outwardly desperate for you, having gone way too long without being allowed to touch you intimately. "Let me. Please," he says, climbing onto the bed. His hands make contact with the skin of your bare legs and glide over the length of your shins, continuing their way up to part your thighs to make room for him to wedge himself between them.

"I did what you asked of me. Said I was sorry and repeated after you to call myself dumb." It was such a silly moment that made the storm in your mind subside for a minute or two.

Toji resists the urge to smile when he sees you suppressing the curl of your own lips. His hands go to your waist, not stopping there. The warmth of his palms travels up your edges, meeting the sides of your breasts and briefly palming the tops of them, in order to get to your shoulders. He grips your shoulders, using them as leverage to guide you back down to the bed. Focus is embedded into his features as he takes the thin material of your shirt between his rough fingertips and peels it off your skin until he reveals the gorgeous view of one of his favorite parts of your body.

Like a domestic cat, he lays his body on you, and plants his face between your breasts. It doesn't take long for him to begin appreciating your chest, pressing multiple slow kisses to your skin. He's basking in the softness you withheld from him.

"What else do you want from me, doll?"

You let out a small, quiet sigh, through your nose. You feel a little irritated with yourself for not even putting up a fight against his affection. You always say you're not going to let him touch you for a certain amount of time, as punishment for the dumb things he does, and yet somehow it always ends up this way—him nuzzling into your chest.

"I want you to stop being a jealous maniac," you say, the words coming out softer than you intended them to, as you welcome defeat and run your fingers through his soft, dark locks.

"Mm-mm, anything but that," he responds, muffled by your warm skin. His hands caress your body, rubbing your waist and massaging your hips in a manner that would induce relaxation under different circumstances. You can't let yourself fall into that comfort until you've talked things out.

"Toji, you flashed your gun at someone who mistook me for somebody else." You attempt to keep yourself composed in order to communicate the issue efficiently. There's no need to raise your voice when you have him right there, lying comfortably on your chest.

"Mhm, I did that," Toji confirms, before planting a soft kiss on the inner side of your right breast. "The dickwad must have been real blind if he had to get so close." He feels your chest rise with a deep inhale, then hears you let out the breath. With that, he knows you're still upset and he has to further elaborate on his actions. "He had his filthy paws on you and everything. I did what I thought was best to get him to fuck off."

You hum in mere acknowledgment. "Uh-huh, that's definitely the way to go about it. God forbid you verbalize your discomfort before threatening to use a bullet."

You feel a warm puff of air on your chest, similar to the sigh you let out, but less audible, and then a kiss directly between your breasts.

"I was right next to you, ma. He was looking at you in a way that he shouldn't have been. He looked at you the same way that I look at you. You don't need that from anyone else. And that stupid ass thing he said about supposedly feeling like he's seen you somewhere? He clearly said it to get a good look at you from up close."

"You really are insane, aren't you?" You ask, rhetorically, stilling the hand that's on the back of his head.

"Doll, I hate the idea of pulling the gun out in front of you. I don't ever wanna have to use it and scare you in the process, but he was actively trying to steal you from me. If he were just ogling you from afar, I might've acted differently, but he touched you. He fucking touched you. Who does shit like that?"

Toji can feel his blood boiling again, so he refocuses on your chest. He doesn't want to think about what happened anymore, when he's in his happy place, where he knows he belongs.

"Alright, Toji. Take a deep breath." You softened your voice to simmer down his emotions. You resumed the movement of your fingers carding through his hair, aiding him in calming down more.

He does as you say and releases a heavy breath. It's riddled with his discontented feelings. "You're supposed to be mine," he mumbles, before finally latching his lips around your nipple.

Toji needs reassurance, too. Him being an attractive, enormous, hulking man, has nothing to do with how secure he feels around you, his lover. It's easy to think that because he manages to turn heads wherever he goes, that he'll be fine when you get those same reactions, but the way you have him now, is proof that insecurity can reach even him. He needs to know that he's not going to lose you so easily, especially to someone as ridiculous as the man who managed to unsettle him.

You look down at him as he takes all the comfort he needs from your chest. "I'm all yours, Toji. You're the only one who will ever get a pass for that kind of psychotic behavior."

He hums, releasing your breast, before resting the side of his face down on your chest. "You make it sound like i'm toxic towards you."

Your chest jumps as you laugh, a gesture that makes Toji lift his gaze to look at you. Your expression managed to make him lighten up a little more.

"You're crazy, but I love you, regardless."

He groans, the sound cushioned by your soft skin. You're the one thing that holds up his sanity, yet somehow you're also the one who tests it by saying things like that to him.

"Let me have you," he says, his kisses beginning to trail up, towards your neck. "Please, let me have you, mama."

"Are you gonna keep threatening people when you get jealous?" You ask, your lips curling as be continues to kiss your delicate skin.

"Mhm," he confirms. "Like I said and you said," he speaks, into your neck, "you're mine. If people don't know it, i'll make sure they get it on the first go. There's no need to make mistakes."

You laugh. "Your possessiveness is intense."

"You're not a joke, to me," he says, looking at you. His expression is as serious as what he just said.

You grab the rolled up fabric of your shirt, with the intention of covering yourself. The ambience has gone more serious and it feels wrong to be so exposed in the moment.

"Don't cover yourself, yet. I want you, baby. Please." His knuckles graze your cheek, affectionately. Despite your chest being out on full display, his attention is centered on your face. He's reading your expression. You were laughing a few seconds ago and now you're as still as him.

"Be nice to me. I don't want you to be rough, this time." It's back to back gentleness with the way your voice reaches him and your smile manages to soothe the remaining sting he's feeling. It's like you're showing him the way you want him to handle you. "I'm yours, Toji. No amount of speed or aggression from your body against mine, will have an impact on the fact. Okay?"

He keeps his eyes on you for a couple more seconds, like he's letting your words sink in and fully envelop him. He repositions his hand, so that he's cupping your cheek, and a couple slow strokes of his thumb against your skin gave him the courage to lean down and kiss you. The second his lips meet yours, he wants more. Infinitely more. He's chasing kiss after kiss from you, utterly drunk on the feeling of your hands pulling him closer by his shirt. He'll consume you, at this point.

"Hm?" You hum, still awaiting his response.

"Got it, baby," he says, before connecting his lips to yours once more. He peppers the rest of your face with kisses, luring giggles from you at the barrage of affection.

This isn't the first time Toji has been revoked of his 'you privileges', and gotten them back, instantly. This has occurred many times in the years that you've been together. Going into a relationship with him, you never thought he'd be the jealous type, much less the type who would threaten someone's life over getting overly cozy with you. The first time he pulled something similar to this, it was a little frightening. You knew he kept a gun on him sometimes, but you figured it was strictly for life or death situations.

You were wrong.

Some weirdo was getting too comfortable with you, hand wrapped around your wrist and all. You clearly remember Toji being visibly bothered, because someone thought they could just swoop in and steal your focus from him. He watched for a minute or two as the man took in your beauty and complimented you on every aspect of your appearance. He really did his best to get you to follow him to his table, and though Toji thought the whole thing was a pathetic attempt, he couldn't help the feelings that began to bubble up as the man squeezed your arm. Toji did a dog whistle to grab the man's attention, and when he looked, he lifted his shirt, just enough to show the grip of his gun. Your stomach twisted and you felt like your heart was going to lurch out of your chest. The stranger just stood there for a second, looking at Toji, condescendingly, as if to insinuate that he knew he was bluffing, and when Toji reached for and grabbed ahold of the gun's handle, that same cocky man paled. He didn't even have to pull out the whole gun—the man had walked away by the time he had the grip in his hand— but you remained worried that he would notify someone about what happened, so you and Toji left.

To this day, Toji still scares people that way when he notices them invading your space in a manner that doesn't sit right with him. You're not scared anymore, when he does it, but the frustration of having to ditch wherever you are, in fear of being ratted out by whoever Toji threatened? It's still there, and you feel it every time. You know he does it out of love for you, but sometimes you wish he would take a second to talk to you, before he even thinks of hurting someone.

Toji has kissed your entire torso, by now. Your chest wasn't exempt from his attention, despite the amount of time he already spent on it. If anything, he refined the love he gave it with purposeful movement and significance towards every spot his lips brushed.

He nears your lower abdomen, wet kisses placed beneath your navel, going lower and lower until you can feel his breath being filtered through the front of your underwear. His hands go beneath the elastic band, cupping your hips without restriction as he kisses your clothed pelvis.

Your breathing picks up the slightest bit when his lips meet your slit through the thin layer. His tongue comes out and he does an experimental swipe of it against the fabric. You feel the space immediately heat up, from your arousal and from the warm wetness of his tongue, itself.

"Stay still for me, mama," he murmurs, kissing your inner thighs after spotting the quiver in them. "You nervous?" He asks, with a small curl of his lips.

"Of course, I am." You look into his eyes as you confirm it. You love him so dearly, that even after the years you've spent together, you still feel lightning coursing through you when he has you this way. This electric feeling doesn't prevent you from letting yourself enjoy what he gives you, nor does it hinder you from touching him and making him feel good. You don't become more hesitant towards him, because by now, you're well aware that your love for him coexists with butterflies. They reside in you, and are able to be lured out by him at any instant, despite your knowledge of the fact that he would gladly be someone's cause of death if they don't keep themselves in check around you.

"Love you," he says, kneading your hips as he leans in to press a few more warm kisses to your thinly veiled cunt. His eyes dart up to your face when you don't respond—he's a little lost on why you didn't say it back— until he sees how despite the way you just admitted to your nerves, he has you entirely at ease. You have a hand flat on the sheets, occasionally moving against the material beneath it, while your other hand rests on your stomach. Your chest is steady and your attention is on the ceiling, your expression serene—ethereally so.

His hands run down your hips, warm palms squeeze and feel up your thighs, gaining your eyes on him again. "You're not gonna say it back?" He asks, his voice deep enough to make the ache between your legs just that much more intense.

"You already know I do," you say, contrasting his demeanor with a giggle. He looks like a needy puppy with that glint that presents itself in his eyes.

"Mhm, doesn't mean I don't wanna hear it, again, or do you not love me, right now?"

You're caught by surprise with that one, a small, almost inaudible gasp, leaving you at the words. "I love you all the time, Toji. I love you now and I loved you earlier when I was pissed. It's not going away."

He's a little more impatient for you, now. His movement doesn't speed up, but his heartbeat is in his ears, and there's a tremble in his hands as he reaches for the elastic of your underwear. He pulls the garment down, wanting to smell and taste you more clearly. His cock jumps at the sight revealed. You're still so wet. He lets out a shuddered breath, now that your lower half is completely bared for him. His mouth comes closer and closer and his tongue comes out, making contact with your throbbing cunt for the first time.

"Toji." The sound is soft—unexaggerated—as his tongue laps at your warmth, tasting the sweet wetness that coats it. He could stay like this for hours, worshipping your entire body, while you touch him and gift him the prettiest sounds ever. He can't get enough of you, which is why when it looks like you're going to close your legs, he pins them down, entirely. His hands splay over your thighs and he keeps them there, because he isn't going to fight to give you the pleasure you deserve. He'll love on you until your body is begging him to stop, because he knows that your mouth can be misleading, at times.

He's taking it slow, just like you wanted him to. The most stimulation comes from him lightly sucking on your clit for brief moments at a time, just to hear your moans get the slightest bit louder. Every time he releases your sensitive pearl, he goes back to running his tongue through your drooling slit, the tip of the muscle nudging your clit, causing it to throb with need. Each graze of the wet warmth, makes you wonder if you should ask him to go faster, though you were the one who asked for this gentleness. You don't want to seem indecisive or come off as doubtful that he can make you cum this way. You know he can, but god, you want so much more. You feel like you're the one who's going insane with every flick of his tongue.

"That good, mama? Or do you want it slower?" He gives you a teasing smirk. Toji knows how you are. You say you want him to be soft and gentle with you, but when the time comes, you want more than what's given to you. You delve into greediness as seconds turn to minutes. You both have nowhere to be. Time is yours, and Toji intends to take advantage of that. He's going to fulfill your needs the way you want him to, but that doesn't mean he loses awareness of your little ticks. He feels the small twitches of your legs beneath his hands every time you feel his nose bump into your clit just before it gets hit by his tongue. He sees the way your hips sink into the mattress and your body quivers when they rise, again.

"G-Good. Don't go any slower," you respond, holding your voice as steady as possible.

"Mm... Faster?" He asks, his tone so calm yet sultry, that you can't tell if he's patronizing you. He doesn't miss the way light flashes, briefly, through your features. In an instant, you regain your composure. A simple hum is offered in response—a wordless brush off of his suggestion. The sound makes Toji smirk. How stubborn of you.

"I won't hold it against you," he says, pressing a kiss to the crease that joins your pelvis and your thigh, leaving an echoing feeling of need in your core. "Just say the word, ma." He presses more kisses to your skin, as if he's trying to persuade you to let him devour you.

"Mm-mm, this is good."

It's not what he's trying to get out of you, but he can keep going until you're hanging on by a measly thread.

He continues on with that same pace—licking, suckling, prodding—so gently, luring the cutest little mewls from you. It took a little longer, but eventually, your body started trembling with impending release.

"I'm gonna- Toji," you cry, tightening your fists around the sheets as he slowly circles his tongue over your clit, focusing on it entirely. Your moans grow needier and needier as you near the edge through such delicateness. The anticipation is killing him. He wants you to be louder. You wouldn't hate him for bringing you more pleasure, would you? It's a risk he's willing to take.

Without another doubt, he's messily making out with your cunt, causing more of your sweet nectar to drool out at a more rapid pace. Your breath hitches, a sharper rendition of his name cried out. Your hand reaches downward and grabs a fistful of his hair, tugging on it as he continues to ravage you. Your moans sound absolutely filthy. He doesn't detach his mouth from you for a single second. His hands finally release their pin on your thighs, allowing you to fully suffocate him when they shut around his head. His arms hook around your thighs, a harsh grip on them to keep you from scooting away from his relentless mouth when you cum. It's another strong, orgasm, that has you arching your back off the mattress and squirming as he continues devouring you through the intense sensation. Your hips roll in an attempt to get more of his mouth on you. Only when you start whimpering and attempting to twist out of his hold, does he ease up. He goes back to the original pace, soft kitten licks through your slit to lap up every drop of your sweetness, earning small twitches from your body, due to the sensitivity you feel.

You release the hold you have on his hair and relax your legs, unbending them and letting them fall comfortably on the bed. He finishes you off with a few kisses, thin strings of his saliva and your cum sticking to his lips, before snapping every time he loses contact with your cunt. His warm palms caress your thighs—a comforting gesture, as your sounds come to a halt and all that is heard is your breathing.

"You're so impatient," you playfully chide, a breathy laugh following.

"You wanted more," he responds, one more kiss placed on you before he licks his lips clean. "I'm really good at reading you."

"Yeah? You think so?" You ask, a teasing grin on your face.

"I know so," he responds. "Wouldn't it just be the worst if we've been together this long, and I didn't know almost everything about you, by now?" He repositions himself, now sitting on his knees to start ridding himself of his own clothes.

You manage a hum and a nod as you watch Toji pull off his shirt.

"Good thing that's not the case, and I do know basically everything about you. Down to the way your body reacts to me— the signals you create that let me know you're gonna cum all over my tongue, when your pretty mouth can't form words."

"So vulgar," you say, through flustered giggles.

"You can take it, mama," he teases, a smirk growing on his lips as you watch him pull off his sweats. His eyes stay on yours, as he kicks them off, letting them slide off the bed and onto the floor, before crawling back between your legs. You can feel his clothed hard-on pressing against your core as he takes your lips in his again. He's addicted to the feeling of your warm body against his.

His hands come down to cup your waist, his fingers molding into the soft flesh with every squeeze they offer. He pauses the make out, small breaths leaving him.

"Baby," he says, his voice almost a whisper, his lustfully darkened eyes narrowed on your starry ones. "I'm gonna kill the next person who hits on you in front of me." He goes back in for a few more quick kisses. "I'm not joking. I can't keep sparing them."

"Shh... All yours, Toji," you murmur, softly, pulling him back in to continue the flow of kisses. Your hand goes to the nape of his neck, the other settles on his shoulder. You hear him groaning quietly into the kisses as he continues grinding his hips into yours.

"Fuck, doll," he groans, pausing his lips on yours once again. "I need you."

You laugh, a warm sound that just adds on to his desire to have you. "So, take me, baby. I'm ready for you."

He gives you one more peck, the slyest smirk playing on his lips as he watches you lean forward for another one, only to be met with nothing.

"Ass," you grumble, playfully shoving his chest.

He chuckles, a deep rumble of a sound as he sits back to remove his boxers. He's not even ashamed of the mess of precum that accumulated in them. If anything, he's surprised he was able to hold in his load this entire time. Pleasantly surprised, because every drop will go to you, as always.

One minute you're sitting up to fully remove your shirt, pulling it up over your head, the next, in what seems like a flash, you're pushed back onto the bed, hands pinned above your head.

You giggle, looking up at him with a lingering smile. "Gentle."

"Mhm," he hums, leaning down to kiss your neck. "So gentle." Two misleading words that don't prepare you for the sensation of his teeth sinking into the crook of your neck.

Your bubbly laughter homes into his ears when his tongue runs over the indentations, luring a huff of a laugh from him.

You feel his cock run through your slick folds, his hips moving back and forth, slowly. Quiet breaths fill the silence that takes over the intimate moment. Toji runs his length through your slit one more time, before finally pushing his tip in. You gasp, feeling his cock begin to drive into you.

"F-Fuck, baby, let me touch you."

"In a minute." He sounds so calm and collected, but you can feel the grip he has on your wrists tighten and the bluntness of his nails pressing into your skin.

"No. Please."

"In a minute," he repeats.

"Pretty please?"

"You're so conflicting, mama. Love that you're begging, but at the same time, you're not listening." His hips draw back and thrust right back into you, his cock filling you up entirely, again.

"Oh fuck. Okay. Please, Toji," you whine.

Toji hums dismissively and picks up a rhythm that manages to get you to stop thinking about your pinned wrists. He lures soft, little moans out of you, listening closely as he plants warm, wet kisses on the side of your face, from your temple to your jaw.

"Just let me be good to you, baby. Alright?"

You hum, nodding your head.

"Yes?"

"Please, yes."

His thrusts become even more precise as he focuses on bringing pleasure to both of you, deep groans and grunts blending together with your higher pitched moans. A few minutes pass and you feel the pressure on your arms ease up, your hands free to roam without restriction. The first thing you do is cup his jaw and bring him in for breathy kisses. You keep your hands on his face and he lets you turn his head in every which way to cover him with kisses. Your affection is intoxicating, and he can't get enough of it. He lets out a breathy laugh when you practically have a make out session with the scar on his lips, your melodic sounds of pleasure released against the strike as he continues to fuck into you. The last kiss you leave on the cicatrix is a big one. One that makes the obnoxious kissy sound and everything. He swipes his tongue over his scar, as if he's trying to catch remnants of the sugar you coated it with.

"Love you," you say, eyes darting over his handsome features and the lovestruck expression they create. You feel the way his hips stutter against you, his abs tensing with restraint before he recomposes himself. You glide your hands up and down his arms and repeat yourself for him. "Love you so much, Toji. I'm yours."

"Fuck— I fucking love you. You're all mine. My baby." He mutters more inaudible curses under his breath, his grip on your waist getting harsher and his thrusts growing quicker, with every sweet confirmation you offer. You whimper, nails digging into his biceps as you withstand the feeling of his cock relentlessly brushing that spot within you that makes you melt beneath him.

"Oh fuck, i'm close." He groans, feeling the way your walls spasm around him at the words. "Yeahhh, you want it, huh, baby? Want my cum?"

A shaky breath leaves you, your face observed up close and personal by Toji, through lust-brimmed, enamored, obsessed eyes. You squirm under all of him— his zoned in attention on you, his touch, his hot, tacky skin, his cock buried inside you—dragging in and out of your soft walls, in a manner that has your toes curling to the brink of actual pain. His fingers find your clit and rub it in rapid circular motions, causing your body to jolt at the sudden intensity of the enhanced pleasure.

You look up at him with your sparkling eyes. "Please... P-Please, Toji? I want it. Want you," you utter, as he brings you closer to your own orgasm.

"Fuck, okay. Okay, baby, gonna give it all to you." His hips pick up their pace a little more and he buries his face into your neck. You can hear the string of grunts and shuddered breaths that pair with his unraveling, right beneath your ear. Deep moans and pants flow past his lips, and his nails begin to leave crescent shapes on your sides. You feel his hot breath on your neck, the open mouthed puffs of air accompanied by the lewd sounds of him filling you with his warm, creamy cum. As he continues rutting into you, riding out every second of his orgasm and then some to get every last drop of his cum into you, he bites your delicate skin, the placement only a few centimeters above where he bit you the first time. He stays there for a few seconds, breathing heavily through his mouth and nose, before he loosens his bite, the gesture transitioning to sloppy kisses over the wet, saliva-coated indentations.

"Cum, doll," Toji mutters, feeling the way your cunt flutters around him when his fingers relocate your throbbing bundle of nerves. Your head sinks back into the pillow, allowing him to drag his kisses up the column of your neck, to feel the vibration of your sounds beneath his lips. Your nails go to his shoulders, dragging across the toned area of muscles, surely leaving behind some scratches. You cry out in utter bliss, your force of an orgasm echoing through your entire being. "There you go, mama," Toji purrs, in response to your body releasing the tension that came with the intensity of your pleasure. You tremble, your small, rapid whimpers and breaths evolving into full blown, unholy moans. "So, so pretty," he drawls out, engraving yet another one of your euphoric expressions into his memory. His fingers leave your clit, and his hips slow down to the point of merely grinding into you, to lure those final little whines out, before stilling entirely.

You shut your eyes to focus on calming your heaving chest for a few seconds, and when you open them again, you have the prettiest pair of green eyes staring down at you. You give Toji a lazy smile and a laugh, a sight that makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside. His heart races as he absorbs the visuals of your post-orgasm haze. Your luminous eyes devour him, that little satisfied smirk on your face is everything— god, he loves that you laugh even more at the way he can't stop staring at you.

Just like that, Toji is reminded of what got this sight revoked from him in the first place. He still doesn't feel like he's in the wrong for wanting to murder anyone who has far from just friendly intentions with you, but as you caress his face and hold his gaze with that tender look in your eyes, his desire to kill those who openly lust after you, becomes entirely justified in his mind. He's lost all reason to hold back. There's no longer any part of him that would feel remorse or guilt, even if you can't look him in the eyes for days after the matter. He'll grovel as much as he has to, to get you to give him your eyes, again. You'll just have to agree to disagree on this, because yes, you come home to him, you sleep in the same bed as him, you kiss and hold him, the body concealed by your clothes is a secret between you and him, you get tangled up in sheets with him and the lot of it— but he can't risk losing you to someone who's possibly better than him and searching for all the exact things you have to offer. You're for him, as he is for you.

Toji doesn't care how clingy he appears when you finish getting cleaned up and ready for bed. You carelessly toss yourself onto the mattress and pull the blanket over your body while you wait for Toji, who took the steps and walked around the bed to make it to his side. He finds your body beneath the covers and immediately rolls on top of you, adhering himself to you, again. His head rests on your chest, his arms wrapped tight around your body.

You're already prepared to give him the intimate aftercare that comes with days like this. You don't mind that he's heavy and that he's crushing you or that he's taking up all your space, again, after having been so close to you a little while ago. You'll do this as many times as you need to for him to understand that he's wanted and loved by you.

You press a kiss to the top of his head, and murmur a quiet 'love you'. Your fingers run through his damp hair, your nails gently scratching the back of his head, while your other hand rubs his back. You feel the extra warm skin of his shoulders, where you paid no mind to the pressure your nails applied on it, earlier.

"Does that hurt?" You ask, lightly tracing a couple of the mildly inflamed lines. He hums in denial, but you let up, anyway, and continue to just rub his back.

He groans quietly at your soothing touch, nuzzling further into you. "I'm yours, too, ma. All yours," he mumbles. "I don't want anyone else and I don't wanna see you with anyone else."

You smile softly at his admission. "You're more than enough for me, Toji. There's no one I want more than you— no, there's no one I want other than you," you correct. "You know how much I love you?"

"Mm... How much?" He asks, waiting for you to give him a number or even just an elongated 'so much', but instead, you surprise him with:

"I wouldn't be able to tell you."

He chuckles. "Really?"

"Yeah, really. If you want something accurate, I'll never shut up."

"Good thing I like when you talk my ear off. You wanna give me an inaccurate idea of how much?"

You hum like you're in thought, a giggle following when he pinches your waist, encouraging you to tell him. "I love you a lot, Toji. So much more than I will ever be able to say or show. We would have to conjoin our minds for you to understand exactly how much I love you, but even then, once our minds separate, your estimate will be entirely off again."

He lifts his head off your chest, and waits for his eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room. The moonlight seeping through the spaces between the curtains is the only source of light that allows him to get a mediocre view of you. "That's inaccurate?" He asks, looking at you with clear disbelief when his eyes finally adjust. You nod, smiling through the warmth that spread on your cheeks. "Now, I wanna know how much you love me, with complete accuracy. I have all the time in the world to listen to you, baby. Just keep talking to me." He presses a kiss to your cheek before lying back down on your chest and wrapping his arms around you, again.

You hugged him as tight as you could for a few seconds. The sound of you straining yourself made him laugh, because not only did he not let out a single groan, but you tired yourself out even more. You rested your arms on his back and just shut your eyes. It was the warmth and weight of his body on you, the feeling of his arms keeping you firmly against him, the security, that managed to lull you to sleep. Toji dozing off was simpler than that, because all he needs to be able to sleep soundly, is for you to be around.

[latenightreadingpdf]

The Cutest Thing - Sirius Black

₊‧⁺˖⋆ Masterlist ⋆˖⁺‧₊

Summary: When you visit the Marauders' dorm to ask Remus for help with your Charms homework, you're surprised to find a large black dog in the room.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

You hurried through the hallways of Gryffindor Tower, clutching your Charms textbook and muttering to yourself. The essay Flitwick assigned was due tomorrow, and you were in desperate need of help. Luckily, Remus Lupin was your go-to for all things academic, and you figured he wouldn’t mind you dropping by the Marauders’ dorm.

When you reached their door, you knocked softly at first, then a bit louder when no one answered. From inside, you could hear what sounded like… barking? Frowning, you knocked again. Still no answer. The barking continued, frantic and insistent.

Worried something was wrong, you slowly pushed the door open.

“Hello? Remus?”

The scene that greeted you was not what you expected. Remus was sitting cross-legged on his bed, nose buried in a book. James was lounging on his bed, tossing a ball in the air, while Peter sat at the desk scribbling something on parchment. In the center of the room was a large, black dog pawing at Remus, barking as if trying to get his attention.

You froze in the doorway.

James noticed you first, the ball dropping to his chest with a thud. “When did you get here?”

You gestured at the dog. “Uh… whose dog is that?”

All three boys froze, exchanging a fleeting, panicked glance.

“Oh, him?” James said quickly, sitting up. “We, uh, found him outside. Poor thing was injured, so we brought him in to heal him up.”

Your heart melted instantly. “Oh, you poor thing!” You crouched down, extending a hand toward the dog. “C’mere, boy.”

The dog—who had been ignoring the boys entirely—turned to you immediately, tail wagging furiously. He sniffed your hand, then began licking it enthusiastically.

You laughed, scratching behind his ears. “You’re the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. And your fur is so soft!”

The dog leaned into your touch, practically vibrating with joy.

James cleared his throat. “Yeah, he’s, uh, a good boy. Aren’t you, boy?”

“What are you going to do with him after he’s healed?” you asked, looking up at the boys.

The dog let out a whine, nudging your hand with his nose.

“Not sure yet,” Remus said tightly, glaring at the dog as if it had personally insulted him. “Probably just let him back out where we found him.”

You frowned, running your fingers through the dog’s fur. “That’s so sad. I’ll miss you so much, boy.”

The dog whined louder, pressing his head into your lap.

James stood abruptly. “Well, it’s getting late! You should probably head back to your dorm now.”

You blinked. “It’s six o’clock?”

“Yep, still, you’ve got a big day tomorrow,” James said, ushering you toward the door.

“Alright, alright, I’m going,” you laughed, giving the dog one last scratch behind the ears. “Bye, cutie!”

The dog barked, wagging his tail so hard it thumped against the bedpost.

The moment the door closed behind you, Remus rounded on the dog.

“Change back, now.”

With a shimmer of fur and a crack, Sirius Black stood in the middle of the room, his trademark smirk firmly in place.

“Did you hear her?” he asked, looking positively delighted. “She said I was the cutest!”

Peter groaned, dropping his head into his hands.

Remus scowled. “You’re insufferable.”

“I can’t help it,” Sirius said, throwing himself onto James’s bed dramatically. “I’ve got the charm—both human and canine.”

James rolled his eyes. “Just don’t get too comfortable, Pads. She’ll find out eventually.”

“And when she does,” Sirius said, grinning like a maniac, “she’ll already think I’m adorable.”

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

A/N ~ just a short little blurb because I’m bored

[xothatnerdykid]

read your mind

You’re a newly minted pro-hero with a quirk that lets you to read the mind of anyone you touch. So imagine your surprise when you accidentally read a certain stoic, brooding hero's mind and find out he doesn't hate you like you thought, but rather, something dangerously close to the opposite.

Aizawa Shouta/Eraserhead x fem!reader. NSFW but not very explicit. 5,002 words.

“Your form was sloppy,” he says in lieu of a greeting.

You used to cringe when he’d tell you things like that, become sheepish and apologetic. Now, after months of knowing him, you'd simply smile and quip, “Awww, you watching my saves on the news again?”

You hated bumping into him. He was the reason you tended to leave mission briefings early: the ever-stoic, perpetually unimpressed Pro Hero Eraserhead.

As a relatively new hero working in the same city, you were thrilled at the chance to learn from someone as experienced as him. But your excitement quickly dimmed the first time you met as you noticed his gruff demeanor and critical, scrutinizing gaze.

You knew he was tough on everyone, but there were times when it felt like his criticism was directed at you more than anyone else. And no matter how hard you tried or how much praise everyone else gave you, he always found something to correct.

So, for the sake of keeping your self-esteem intact, you’ve resorted to treating his criticism like a game, teasing him back whenever he dropped one of his classic deadpan remarks. It was either that or crumble under the weight of his seemingly endless disapproval.

But today, all you can muster is a grunt in response, head throbbing from fatigue and chronic sleep deprivation.

“That’s my line,” he says flatly. Because apparently, someone always has to be the cheeky one between the two of you.

“Can we just…” You rub your temple, wincing as the pain spikes. "Can we just not do this today?”

“Are you feeling alright?” His voice loses a bit of its usual sharpness as he steps closer, eyes narrowing in concern. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

“I’m fine,” you huff, waving him off. "Just tired. We can't all function on only ten shots of espresso a day."

"Seven actually. I'm not a maniac. And you don't sound fine."

You roll your eyes, feeling too drained to banter with him. "I said I'm fine. Can you spare me the lecture?"

You mean to walk past him when you feel his hand wrap around your wrist, startling you. Suddenly, there’s that familiar buzz in your mind — your quirk activating with the skin-to-skin contact. The headache momentarily takes a backseat as his thoughts flood in.

Is she really okay? She looks like she’s about to collapse.

Why does she always push herself so hard?

You look up at him, eyes wide and unblinking.

He yanks his hand away as if he’d been burned, the flood of his thoughts abruptly cut off. His dark eyes flicker with something—surprise? Guilt? He takes a step back.

“Sorry,” he mutters, his voice rougher than usual. “Didn’t mean to…”

You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. How are you supposed to respond to that? All this time, you thought he was just cold, that he only ever saw your flaws. But just now, he…

He was worried about you?

“I—” you start, but your voice falters. He’s still staring at you, his expression carefully guarded again.

“I’ll see you around. Feel better." His voice is clipped, betraying none of the thoughts you just heard. The words sound so casual, so dismissive, that for a moment you wonder if you imagined it all.

You want to say something to break the tension between you, but you're suddenly nervous. Your heart races, pounding with the weight of this new knowledge. Before you can compose yourself, another hero calls his name, and he mutters a quick response before leaving.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ 

You promised yourself you were going to avoid him like the plague.

Later that day, when you were tossing and turning in bed, still overthinking your last encounter — you promised. You even came up with (what seemed to you) a solid game plan: You were going to focus on hero work so much that you won’t even have the time to think about him, much less see him.

But the mission had gone from bad to worse in a matter of minutes.

What was supposed to be a simple recon had turned into a full-on chase through the streets when the criminal you'd been tracking for weeks unexpectedly showed up at the deal you were sent to bust. Orders be damned, you vaulted over the rooftop ledge and ran after them.

You leaped across buildings, adrenaline spurring you on. Your mind was focused, heart pounding in rhythm with your footfalls. You’d chased this villain twice before, and both times, they’d slipped through your fingers. You weren’t about to let that happen again.

The villain was fast, but so were you. With each bound, you closed the gap, watching as they darted into a narrow alleyway below. This was your chance. Your heart surged as you prepared to drop down and cut them off.

Suddenly, a figure descended from the shadows, blocking your target from your sight. Your stomach dropped.

Of course it was him.

"Stay back. This is too dangerous for you to handle alone.” His voice was firm and authoritative. Even with the goggles on, you could feel his dark eyes trained on you with that same stern expression you’d come to dread.

"Dangerous? I've been on this case longer than you have!”

You stepped forward but so did he.

“I said stay back,” he warned you. “Don’t be reckless. He’s already evaded you twice, and now he’s cornered. Desperate villains do desperate things.”

“He’s getting away! You’re ruining my chance to finally catch him!”

“And you’ll get yourself killed,” Aizawa snapped. “I’m not going to let a rookie run into a trap.”

Anger flared in your chest. You knew he didn’t respect you, hadn’t from the start. Always criticizing, always watching with that disapproving scowl. You try to push past him, but it’s no use. He’s stronger than you, and maybe even more stubborn.

“Wait here and let me handle it,” Aizawa growled, his voice low and commanding. His scarf moved like a serpent around him, a silent warning that he wouldn’t hesitate to use it if you pushed any further.

You clenched your fists but did as you were told. Much to your frustration, the villain was apprehended quickly after that. You watched from the rooftop, fuming as Aizawa cornered them with ease, his scarf tangling around the villain's limbs like it was second nature. Within minutes, the situation was over, and backup arrived to escort the criminal away.

You stayed put, your heart still racing with the adrenaline of the chase and the frustration of being sidelined once again. The cool night breeze did little to calm your heated emotions. It wasn’t fair. You’d been so close, only for him to swoop in like you were some rookie who couldn’t handle their own mission.

Now, you watch as he finishes giving his statement to the police and then make his way towards you.

You cross your arms tightly, readying yourself for whatever critique he’d throw your way this time. But when he stops in front of you, he doesn’t say anything right away. He simply takes off his goggles and looks at you.

His silence is almost worse than his usual condescending remarks. When he finally speaks, his voice is gravelly, strained. More measured than you expected.

"Are you okay?"

You blink. "I…I'm fine," you answer, maybe a bit too defensively.

Aizawa's eyes narrow, and for a moment, you think he’s about to call you out for your tone. But he just stares at you, his expression as unreadable as ever.

You shift on your feet, feeling the weight of his scrutiny. The silence stretches between you both, heavy and awkward, until he exhales and rubs the back of his neck.

"Good," he mutters, his voice softening just slightly, but there’s something behind his eyes—a flicker of something you can’t quite place. His hand lowers back to his side, and as it brushes yours for the briefest moment, something happens.

Skin contact.

Before you can stop it, his thoughts are bleeding into yours, loud and clear.

I should’ve handled that better. She probably thinks I hate her…

Dammit, I don’t want her to hate me.

Your breath catches in your throat. A rush of emotions flood your mind: frustration, concern. Genuine fear.

She doesn’t need to prove herself to me. She’s already good enough. More than good enough.

Heat floods your face, your pulse quickening. He… cares? Before you can process it fully, the connection snaps. A sudden coldness washes over you as your quirk is forcibly erased.

Aizawa’s eyes lock onto yours, his irritation visible in the sharpness of his gaze and the tight line of his mouth.

"I…I didn't mean to," you tell him, your voice barely above a whisper.

Something like uncertainty flickers in his expression, and his hair falls down in waves as he shuts off his quirk, too. His jaw tightens but his brow furrows as though he’s trying to decide what to say.

“I...know you didn’t,” he finally says, his voice low and rough.

You flinch, guilt bubbling up in your chest. “I’m sorry,” you murmur again, dropping your gaze to the ground. You didn’t want to invade his mind, but now you couldn’t unhear what you’d discovered.

Just like before, he turns to leave.

“Wait—” you blurt out, reaching for him instinctively. You don’t know what you’re going to say, but you can’t just let him leave like this. Not again.

He pauses, half-turning to glance at you over his shoulder. Your heart is pounding in your ears. The words are there, but they feel jumbled in your throat, tangled up in the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions swirling through your mind.

“I—I didn’t know. About any of it.”

Your eyes search his face for any sign of what he’s thinking, but his expression remains impassive. You fight back the urge to touch him.

“I thought you couldn’t stand me,” you admit in a small voice.

Aizawa heaves a sigh. His hand rises to pinch the bridge of his nose, and for the first time, you notice how tired he looks; exhausted, worn down in a way that makes him seem more human, less the untouchable figure you’ve always seen him as.

“I’m not trying to be hard on you,” he says after a long pause, his voice softer now, the anger draining away. “But you don’t always think things through, and that’s dangerous. You’re talented. You don’t need to prove anything to me or anyone else.”

His words surprise you, and you look up, meeting his gaze again. There’s no scowl, no biting critique, just honesty. You swallow hard, feeling an odd mix of warmth and discomfort settle in your chest.

Before you can think better of it, your hand moves instinctively, brushing against his arm. You freeze, realizing what you’ve done, but this time, he doesn’t pull away. And though he has every opportunity to, he doesn’t erase your quirk either.

I’m too close to her. The thought is faint, hesitant. She’s already in my head… and it’s getting harder to push her away.

Your breath catches in your throat. He’s not just frustrated with you — he’s frustrated with himself.

You pull your hand back, not wanting to intrude further.

You don’t know what you expect to see on his face; surprise maybe, or even anger. But for the first time since you’ve met him, you see something warmer in his eyes — something that sends a flutter through your chest.

Aizawa takes a half-step closer and your pulse quickens at the proximity. Then, in a voice so soft it’s almost a secret, he murmurs, “Don’t make me worry like that again.”

“I won’t,” you manage to whisper, your heart caught in your throat.

He takes a step back, as if remembering himself, and his usual stern demeanor slips back into place.

“Go home. Get some rest.”

You nod, still too flustered to speak. The warmth of his touch lingers long after he's gone.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ 

It’s well past midnight, the city quiet except for the soft hum of distant traffic and the occasional sound of wind rustling through the streets. Your patrol route brings you to the edge of a quiet park, where you catch a familiar figure standing in the shadows, keeping watch.

“You really like brooding in the dark, don’t you?" You smile at him from over your shoulder, though your usual sarcasm is gone.

“It's my favorite pastime,” he deadpans, but you don't miss the way his dark eyes hold yours a beat too long.

“Right,” you snicker. “The city’s most stoic hero. I bet you even scowl in your sleep.”

Aizawa’s lips twitch, the tiniest of smirks threatening to break through. “You can’t prove that.”

"Oh?” You smile sweetly, batting your eyelashes for good measure. “Something tells me I can.”

His gaze sharpens slightly, and for a moment, you’re sure he’s about to call you out on your teasing. But instead, he steps closer, his tall frame looming over you.

“You’re bold tonight,” he says, his tone somewhere between amused and intrigued. “Careful, I might start thinking you’re actually enjoying my company.”

You bite your lip to keep from smiling any wider. “And what if I am?”

He steps just a fraction closer, and you can feel the heat radiating off him in the cool night air. His voice is low and smooth when he says, “Then I’d have to wonder what it is you think you’re getting yourself into.”

The air between you thickens, the playful banter now laced with something a little more dangerous, a little more exciting.

“You know, I could buy you a coffee sometime,” you offer, hoping to diffuse some of the tension, keep the conversation light. “To say thanks for helping me out with that last mission.”

He pretends to mull it over but, before you can react, he reaches out and grabs the coffee cup you’re holding. He takes a deliberately long sip, watching you with an intensity that makes your skin tingle.

When he lowers the cup, he meets your gaze with a half-lidded look that sends your pulse racing.

“Consider it done.”

Your face feels impossibly warm now, and you’re sure your blush is painfully obvious, but you manage to keep your voice steady as you quip, “An indirect kiss? Maybe you’re the one who needs to be careful, or else other people will start getting the wrong idea.”

With a low laugh, he hands the cup back to you, and the subtle brush of his fingers against yours sets off another wave of his thoughts.

I wonder if she realizes how much I want her.

Your breath catches.

For a split second, you think you might’ve misheard it, but the heat in Aizawa’s gaze as he watches your reaction tells you otherwise. The cup is back in your hand, but your fingers are numb. Your focus is entirely on him, his thoughts still rattling around in your mind.

His lips twitch again. “You’re awfully quiet all of a sudden,” he teases, his voice low, almost a purr. “What’s going on up there? Something I should know about?”

You swallow hard, trying to gather your composure. He’s looking at you like he’s daring you to admit what you heard.

You take a deep breath and decide to play along. “Oh, nothing. Just wondering if you always flirt this shamelessly.”

“Maybe I just wanted to see how you’d react.”

Your heart is racing now, fingers trembling around the cup in your hand. His gaze is dark and intense. Unwavering. He's looking at you like he knows exactly the effect he’s having on you and he’s enjoying it.

Your quirk had always been a double-edged sword; sometimes it revealed things you wished you hadn’t known, and other times it brought clarity to situations that seemed hopelessly opaque.

This time, it left you with a dilemma.

“Go ahead,” he murmurs, as if sensing your thoughts. He’s close enough now that you can feel the warmth of him, his presence overwhelming but not uncomfortable. “Since you’re already in my head…why stop now?”

Your breath hitches. His invitation is dangerous, yet impossible to resist. There are a dozen reasons why you shouldn’t — you work together, it’s an invasion of privacy, you hated his guts just a few weeks ago — but the temptation is too strong, his presence too intoxicating.

Hesitantly, your fingers brush against his once more, and his thoughts flood in again, more intense and vivid this time.

She’s braver than I thought. I like that.

I shouldn’t be doing this. But damn, I can’t stop thinking about her. The way she looks at me…

“Good girl,” he cooes, his voice a low rumble that sends a flutter of excitement through you.

You feel lightheaded, dizzy with the weight of his thoughts, the tension between you at a boiling point. You swallow hard, trying to regain some semblance of control, but the way Aizawa’s eyes are fixed on you — dark, intense, hungry — it’s making it hard to think straight. He wants you to know. He wants you to feel what he’s feeling.

And you do.

You feel everything.

His desire is a palpable thing, hanging in the air between you, electric and heady. You can see it in the way his gaze lingers on your lips, the way his breath hitches ever so slightly when you lean in.

“Hardly seems fair. I don't get to know what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours.” His voice dips lower, enough to send another wave of heat crashing over you. “Are you going to keep me guessing?”

Your voice wavers slightly, but you manage to respond, “I’m not sure you’re ready for what’s in my head.”

He chuckles, a dark, low sound that makes your stomach flip. “You might be surprised.”

You can barely breathe as he brushes the back of his hand against your jaw, his thumb pressing lightly on the corner of your mouth. You feel his thoughts ripple through you again, even stronger this time.

I want her. God, I want her so badly…

Your knees feel weak, and it takes everything in you not to lose yourself completely in the moment, in him. The tension between you feels unbearable now, as if one wrong move could send you both over the edge. And you’re not sure how much longer either of you can hold back.

Aizawa smirks, just a hint of satisfaction flickering in his expression.

I could kiss her right now. It would be so easy.

The thought lingers between you, thick and heavy, and you can’t tell if it’s yours or his anymore. All you know is that just the idea of his lips on yours is making your entire body hum with anticipation.

Aizawa watches you carefully, as if waiting for your reaction. He knows you heard him, and he’s not backing down.

You swallow hard, the weight of his gaze pinning you in place. “Go ahead then,” your own voice sounds small and distant to your ears, but it’s enough to tip the balance.

His lips are on yours in a second.

The kiss is soft at first, tentative, as if he’s testing the waters, but it quickly deepens as the tension that had been building between you finally breaks. His other hand slides around your waist, pulling you closer, and you feel his thoughts rushing through you again.

God, she tastes even better than I imagined.

Your knees nearly buckle, and you can barely focus on anything except the way his lips feel against yours — firm, warm, demanding yet tender. He’s kissing you like he’s been holding back for far too long.

When you finally pull back for air, your heart is pounding, your breath shaky. Aizawa’s forehead rests gently against yours, his eyes half-closed as he catches his own breath. His thumb brushes lightly over your cheek, a small, affectionate gesture that has you smiling up at him in a tizzy.

“Still think I hate you?” he murmurs, his voice low and full of heat as he slides his hands into the curve of your waist.

You laugh softly, pulling him closer by his scarf. “I think I might need a little more convincing.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ 

The days that follow your little late night tryst at the park are deliciously unbearable.

It’s as if you don’t know how to be around him anymore. There's tension during training sessions. The gym hums with its usual energy, but you can’t focus. Not with him in the room. You’re sparring with someone, half-heartedly dodging and throwing punches, but your mind is elsewhere, replaying the feel of Aizawa’s lips on yours, the heat of his body pressed against you.

Across the room, he’s speaking to a group of trainees, the same unreadable, stoic expression in place. But there's a flicker of something else in his eyes when they briefly meet yours, a look only you recognize.

Your opponent lands a hit on your shoulder and you nearly stumble. You grit your teeth and bring yourself back to the present moment. When the sparring session ends, you grab a bottle of water and try to catch your breath.

He walks over to where you’re sitting off to the side, seemingly doing the same. His voice is low enough so only you can hear. "You're distracted."

You flush, struggling to keep your expression impassive. “And what if I am?”

“Focus, or I’ll have to give you some private training later.”

His words are a promise, dripping with intent, and your blood sings. You can’t find a response quick enough before he’s already pulling away, leaving you flushed and even more distracted.

It’s not much better during night patrol, when the city streets are dimly lit and mostly empty. Although the two of you are supposed to be overseeing different sectors, you know when you turn a corner into a dark alley that he's following silently, closely behind.

You walk deeper into the alley, pretending to scan the area, but the quiet crunch of his footsteps has your heart racing. Just as you’re about to turn back, a hand wraps around your wrist, pulling you into the shadows, away from prying eyes.

You open your mouth to say something, but he’s already on you, crashing his lips against yours.

“You’re making—it hard—for me—to concentrate,” he murmurs between kisses, each word punctuated by the soft graze of his mouth against yours. His hands press against your hips, pinning you gently yet firmly to the wall, and a wave of heat spreads through you.

Suddenly, an image flashes in your mind: him trailing his mouth downwards until he’s on his knees, hooking your leg over his shoulder and eating you out. A thought that isn’t your own.

“You’re one to talk,” you shoot back, though there’s no real bite to it. If anything, your voice is barely steady. “You’re supposed to be patrolling your own area.”

He runs his fingers along your jaw. "And let you wander into dark alleys alone?" He leans in, lips brush against your ear, nibbling. "Not a chance."

He crooks a finger under your chin and tilts your head up, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down the column of your throat, his teeth and lips lingering just enough to make you gasp.

I want to taste you. All of you, he thinks. I want you to make a mess on my face, on my fingers, and then lick it clean.

You grab a fistful of his hair and tug. He presses you harder against the wall, and it’s dizzying, intoxicating—

Until the sharp crackle of comms cuts through the haze.

“Report. Any activity?”

You both freeze, breaths mingling, still pressed close. His eyes flick to yours, and there’s a hint of amusement dancing in them.

“Nothing to report,” he says, voice calm and collected as if he hadn’t just been kissing you senseless a moment ago.

You look up at him, dazed and wanting, heart pounding. He tilts his head at you and you realize they’re expecting a response from you, too.

“N-no activity here either,” you manage despite the tightness of your throat.

The comms fall silent once more. Aizawa is looking at you through half-lidded eyes and a self-satisfied smirk. You hate him as much as you really don't.

“We should get back to our routes before someone decides to check on us," he murmurs.

“Oh, so now you’re concerned about protocol?” You arch an eyebrow at him, though you’re sure your flushed cheeks betray any semblance of teasing bravado.

"For now." He leans down to brush the shell of your ear with his lips. "But if you keep looking at me like that, I might just break a few more rules.”

A few days later, you find yourselves seated across from each other during a mission debriefing. The room is full of other pro heroes, but it might as well be empty for all the attention you’re paying to anyone else.

Your thoughts scramble every time Aizawa's knee brushes against yours beneath the table. He, on ther hand, is the picture of composure, listening to the debrief with his usual detached focus.

This meeting’s dragging. I can think of better ways to pass the time with you.

You try to focus on the mission details, but half way through, he moves his hand atop your thigh and you shiver.

How long do you think it’d take if we just slipped out, right now?

You steal a glance at him, and there’s the barest flicker of amusement in his eyes when they meet yours.

You force yourself to look down at your notes, but your mind is elsewhere, his presence impossibly distracting. Fuck it, you think before you slide your foot up his calf.

He sputters a cough, a rare crack in his usually unshakable composure, and you feel a surge of satisfaction. Under the table, his hand tightens on your thigh, his grip firm, almost possessive, and the thrill of it has you biting the inside of your cheek.

Keep doing that and I won’t be responsible for what happens after this.

As the meeting draws to a close, everyone rises to leave, and Shota gives you a barely perceptible nod toward the hallway. You follow at a careful distance until you reach his office, entering a good few minutes after he does so as not to arouse suspicion.

He backs you gently against the door as he locks it behind you, his gaze pinning you in place. His eyes are dark and stormy, with that half-focused look you’ve come to love so much. When he speaks, his voice is soft, a murmur meant only for you. “You’re going to get us caught, you know that?”

You smile up at him sweetly then tip-toe to give him a soft, lingering kiss. "You’re the one who can’t seem to keep things professional,” you coo, your fingers tracing along the collar of his shirt, teasing.

A muscle in his jaw twitches. “Is that so? Funny, I don’t remember you objecting."

“Of course not,” you confess breathlessly, head thrown back in pleasure as you tug at his hair. You can’t make out the sound of your own voice over the blood thumping in your ears. “Do you know how many times I’ve imagined us doing inappropriate things in your office?”

Your words seem to snap the last of his restraint.

A low growl escapes him, and before you know it, he’s gripping your hips and lifting you just enough to press the hardness of his length against you. You gasp. His mouth finds yours with a raw, pent-up hunger that has you clinging to his shoulders, heart racing wildly.

“And here I was, thinking I was the only one losing sleep over this,” he murmurs between kisses, tugging your bottom lip gently between his teeth.

He pulls you flush against him as his tongue explores your mouth, and you trail your hands down his chest and the ridges of his abdomen just as eagerly. You grind your hips down on his erection and he lets out a deep, guttural groan, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“Fuck, baby,” he pants, his warm, rough hands slipping beneath the hem of your shirt. “You’re lucky we’re alone.” His tone is half-warning, half-promise, and you can feel his heartbeat racing beneath your hands.

"I know somewhere we wouldn't have to worry about being interrupted," you tell him breathlessly. “My place. Tonight. If you’re up for it.”

He lets out a quiet chuckle, thumb brushing over your lower lip. "I'll clear my schedule.”

[feitanii-ll]

ᰔᩚ 𝗠𝗬 𝗚𝗜𝗥𝗟, 𝗠𝗬 𝗚𝗜𝗥𝗟 ᰔᩚ

husband! katsuki x afab!reader

(implied advances/pursuing (not from katsuki), cursing, hella fluff, little ooc kats.)

★ — in which,, katsuki finds someone trying to pursue his wife in a grocery store.

katsuki has a lot of pride.

how could he not? being one of the top heros in Japan, bursting through the ranks at unimaginable speeds, accomplishing things that no one else in the world can even comprehend. he's got a house (a few of them), nice cars, neat clothes, ect— overall, an exceptional lifestyle. something that he deserves to be prideful about. things to be proud of. and though he appreciates it; the fame, the wealth, the prestige— nothing, and I mean nothing, trumps the pride he has for you. his wife.

it's all he feels in the moment, staring at you from across the isle of the grocery store, unbeknownst to you. his sweet little wife, going off on a stranger, an absolute weirdo, for not leaving you alone, he believes. for not accepting your rejection, maybe? he can only assume. hell, who cares anymore?

he had driven you both to the grocery store, wanting to do some quick shopping for the upcoming weekend. but your man was just so so tired from working all week, you insisted on going in alone so that he could relax, promising you'd just be a minute.

he took it upon himself to go looking inside the store for you when 45 minutes pass, leading him to now.

katsuki is grinning, almost maniacally as he watches you, arms crossed over his pride-swollen chest. the conversation is something along the lines of,

'I said no, didn't I? back the fuck up.' with your brows furrowed cutely, a disgusted sneer on your face.

when the loser persists, you get loud, almost wanting to make a scene. you cut him off with a, "nuh uh! I'm tryna' be nice, but you're pissing me off, now, sir"

katsuki's still watching, wanting to see how things plays out. he won't let the man get too close. won't let anything escalate further. he just wants to see you handle yourself, like he knows you can. you're his girl, after all.

and when the man doesn't let up, you take to slipping your phone out of your pocket, taking your eyes off the man for only a second to speed dial katsuki. he sees it all, watching as you press the phone to your ear, ready to summon him. he grins wider, biting back a smile when he feels his phone vibrate in his front, right pocket. you're still cursing the stranger out, now embarrassing him in front of the other shoppers as you wait for your husband to answer the phone.

"—don't know what you thought this was. my husband don't play that. he's crazy." you scoff, thoroughly pissed.

and that's the icing on the cake. it's what has him cackling, celebrating, almost to himself. he basically doubles over as his giggles hit him hard. he wasn't expecting those words to come out of your mouth, but God, were they music to his ears.

'thas' my fuckin' girl.' he sighs internally.

you did everything right.

he thinks it's about time he interferes. slipping a cllaosued hand into his front pocket, katsuki pulls out his vibrating phone, declining the call as he approaches you.

the confusion you feel when your husband doesn't answer is temporary. your expression goes from frustrated to surprised when his voice rings out just above you, swimming pleasantly through your ears.

"kats—" you look up, surprised as you meet his gaze, a wave of relief washing over you.

"don't worry, babe," he's still grinning, but the look he gives the man is one of familiarity. you might have to be the one to deescalate the problem now,

"your husband's riiiight here."

your once frustrated features shift at the sound of his voice. his form was so big and imposing behind you, and you knew you were safe.

"baby, I was just gonna grab one more thing for you before paying for the groceries—"

God, he thinks, you were shopping for him.

"don't worry 'bout it, ma." his voice is gruff as it sounds in your ears, rough in a way that it makes you almost plaint. and it's around this time that the stranger realizes just who he's talking to, not expecting dynamite to be in his vicinity.

"you did good. c'mon." he praises as he grabs your hand, leading you to the register and taking the basket from your hands, gingerly.

by the time you get back into your shared vehicle, katsuki is still smiling— like he's on the verge of laughing. it makes you smile, too, albeit, extremely confused.

you slip on your seat belt when you feel the car roar to life, rumbling softly in the background. when you look back uo, you're sighing, flopping back against the seat, exhausted. when you look to your man, he's still grinning. it makes you smile, albeit extremely confused.

"what??" you ask through a giggle, almost desperately, needing to know just what the hell was so damn funny.

he stays silent, simply smiling, and you emphasize again,

"whaat?"

"nothin!" he laughs, palms lifting off the wheel and by his ears in mock surrender, "can't fucking look at ya?"

"you're being weird, kat!" you swat his shoulder playfully, "what arenyou looking at me like that?"

"nothin', baby, nothin'." he's giddy, which is so so odd to you.

"is this about what happened just now." you lift your brows expectantly.

he pauses, and then speaks,

"just... 'm proud of my girl, is all." he shrugs, making a smug face. "told that man off, yeah? told him that your husband is crazy about you? makes me all...I dunno." he trails off, and you laugh.

"what else were you expecting?" you scoff out a laugh, shaking your head. "he was hitting on me, and—"

"baby, you don't gotta explain it to me. just.. know that I'm proud of you." he smiles, and it's so genuine. so pretty. so rare from your husband. your heart races at the praise.

"okay." you whisper, smiling shyly.

"okay." he confirms, looking down at you, still grinning.

he's definitely proud of himself. but not more than he is of you.

[squinch-depraved]

Giggly sex? Maybe with schlatt?

yayaya combining this with another ask from @manticore-fangs because i thought they'd go well together hope you two don't mind sharing :3 starts sweet and ends spicy teehee

schlatt kissed your temple as you smiled, the echo of your laughter fading away and leaving you two in what would be silence if it weren't for your favorite cartoon playing quietly on the tv. the two of you had had a fantastic day together, leaving you giddy and nearly drunk off his touch. he loved when he got to spend this much time with you, you were both busy people so it was rare you both had a full free day line up, but here you were.

he joked, quipping lines timed perfectly to elicit laughs from you, and kissed you all over until you were giggling uncontrollably. schlatt loved your laugh, it always cheered him up and he never felt like a joke or bit was successful until he heard your distinctive snort, followed by your maniacal cackle.

but tonight, you were soft for him. putty in his hands, only giggles, none of your usual shrieking or howling. he kept trying to make you break, poking and prodding you at an increasingly rough pace before transitioning into tickling you. a grin broke out on his face when you finally cracked. your frantic, hiccuping laugh as you begged him to stop drew out his own crazed cackle, and he ceased tickling you.

"finally, doll," he chuckled after you had both caught your breath. "just wanted to hear your real laugh."

"it's always my real laugh," you replied, smiling as you swatted at him playfully.

"no, i know, it's just.. i like that laugh. the one that makes you sound insane. i have to earn it, but you always sound so happy." he stares down at you, positioned in between your legs from how he was laying on your chest earlier in the evening.

your face flushed when he slid his hand up your bare thigh under your dress. the two of you had worn relatively comfortable clothes for your date, and he had specifically requested you wear a simple dress so he could access you with ease. once his hand reached your panties, he hooked one finger into their waistband and pulled them off you in one swift motion. pussy laid bare to him, his eyes left your face and watched as his fingers swiped over your wet slit.

"ohh, god, j," you laughed nervously when he began tracing figure eights into your clit. "you make me so dizzy..."

he looked down at you lovingly. "i know, toots. keep makin' those pretty noises for me, huh? love to hear you all stupid just from my touch."

you giggled, spreading your legs wider. "in me, j," you asked through moans. he obliged and inserted his middle finger, pumping it into you and curling it to make you cry out more.

"not enough," you protested after a bit. "need your cock." you grabbed at his lower half and giggled once more when you noticed him gawking at you. "what??"

he shook his head as if coming out of a daze and pushed you back down before standing up to strip all his clothes off. you mirrored him, slipping your dress up and over your head along with your bra. when you laid back down and eagerly looked up at him, legs spread as if displaying yourself for his pleasure, he pumped his shaft in his hand a few times before climbing on top of you and slotting your legs over his shoulders.

"oh- oh! is this how we're doing it tonight?" you laughed again, unsure of what your boyfriend wanted. "just gonna bend me 'til i break?" you said it with a loving smile, but he snickered and made piercing eye contact.

"that's the plan, doll," he said with unsettling confidence. "this is me startin' out nice." with that, he pushed himself into you, inch after delicious inch filling your hole. you whined after a moment of stillness, having adjusted to his size, and he began pounding you. the sound of skin slapping was accompanied by lewd moans and grunts, overshadowing the intro to yet another episode of the long-forgotten cartoon.

you yelped and giggled when he smacked your ass and bent you even further back. "feels really good, baby," you cooed, oblivious to the fact that you were only halfway into the position he was aiming for.

"i know," he assured you, letting you enjoy it a moment longer before fully shifting to be on top, moving your legs, pinning you down, and drilling his hips down into you.

you screeched, dug your freshly done nails that he had picked out into his back, and rambled incoherently about how good he was fucking you. the weight of him holding you down like this rendered you defenseless as he impaled you again and again on his thick cock, and he had a perfect view of your face tearing up. you were still laughing somehow, high off the infinite pleasure he was giving you, except now you weren't in control of it at all. giggling as you sobbed from your approaching orgasm, you tried your best to communicate you were going to cum but if he understood, schlatt didn't say anything.

he only reacted with a, "jesus," when you squirted all over him, making a mess on his expensive couch. you were still laughing, voice shaky and lustful as he continued to jackhammer you.

"pl- aaah! please, j! 's too good!" you wept.

"what the fuck did i do to you to make you cry like this?" he spat down at you. "my dick just that good? huh?" his hips were speeding up and he dug his nails into your skin, determined to leave some kind of mark.

"y-yes, baby, so good!" you wailed.

he growled and continued chasing his high, mumbling a, "close!" before his hips stuttered and he thrust down into you far more forcefully than he had all night. he continued to fuck you, staring down at the pearly white liquid coating his shaft after it pumped in and out, and finally pulled away when you tapped his arm tiredly.

schlatt flopped onto another couch cushion, waving his hand when you went to get up in an attempt to prevent his seed from spilling out of you and onto the couch. "you already squirted all over it, i have to get it cleaned anyway. stay comfy," he said. "ya fuckin' whore."

[mimikittysblog]

The Princess - Bonus Ending

Full story! ♡

Pairing: Mafia! Husbands! Poly! Ateez x Fem! Wife! Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst if you squint really hard.

Synopsis: You found the traitor.

Warnings: Death, Violence, very slight MxM, some descriptions of gore. ⚠️MNDI⚠️ If I missed anything then please let me know!

Word Count: 1.8k Words

A/N: Hehe surprise! An extra ending 🤭 I wanted to add this on in the actual fic, but I liked where it ended off too much. So I decided to make this into a bonus ending where you could read it if you want, or just ignore it if you don’t. Hope you enjoy this too!

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

It has been a little over a week since your kidnapping. Things also have finally gone back to normal.

Except…

“Joooooooonggiiiieee!!!!!”

The yell for the captain of ATZ can be heard throughout the entire mansion, along with the sound of stomping pretty pink high heels.

“Oh my.”

“Well aren’t you in trouble”

Soon the door to Hongjoongs office was bursted open revealing the little fireball of which they call ‘Their Princess.’

“Oh princess.. whats the matter??”

That question only made your frown grow and eyebrows furrow even more.

“You promised we’d finally go shopping today! You said you wanted to dress me up! I’ve been waiting in the living room for over an hour!”

“Oooohh good luck with that!”

“See ya later our troubled husband! Hope she goes easy on you!”

The boys in the room quickly scatter, but of course not before giving you a sweet kiss and a compliment to your pretty outfit.

“Oh darling.. I’m so sorry!! I got caught up with work! Things have gotten so hectic princess.. there are these idiots that are always giving us trouble! And just….” As he kept going trying to give you reasons he notices your expression hasn’t changed at all, which makes him sigh.

Ever since your kidnapping, your husbands have become too anxious. So now they can’t even put their trust into any new body guards. Especially since the one that has ratted out your existence is still unknown.

So they took it upon themselves to always be your chaperone when you go out. As much of a hassle you thought it would be, it honestly just gives them an excuse to be around you even more. So in the end you just let them do it.

“I’m sorry our princess.. I mean it I’m very sorry…” he says as he gets up and makes his way over to you, pulling you close.

“Do you still want to go now..?”

“Can you go?”

“I have to make it up to you, don’t I?”

“And those idiots??”

“Hmmm well.. why don’t you tell me what I should do to them sweetheart?”

“Hmmmph. Well if they’re giving you guys so much trouble and they’re idiots, I don’t see why you can’t just kill them off and take what you need. We have the resources and manpower, plus you’ve done it before! You did it literally a week ago. You’re ATZ for goodness sake. No one is above you!” You say like it was nothing.

And you were right.

Hongjoong chuckles as he sits down and brings you into his lap.

“While you are correct my love, unfortunately what we need from them, requires them to still be alive. For now.” He explains.

“Ughh fineee…” You groan.

As you opened your mouth to speak again. That’s when a loud shrill screech disturbed the peacefulness of the moment.

“What now?!” Hongjoong barked.

“Oh! That must be my doing!” You said with what can only be described as a maniacal glint in your eyes.

“Oh?”

“Come Joongie! I’ll show you! Then we’ll go shopping!”

“Whatever you desire Princess.” He says with a kiss to your new diamond ring.

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

“LET GO OF ME!! LET GO!! I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING WRONG?! UNHAND ME AT ONCE!!”

“Then why did you run?”

“H-huh..?”

Here in the middle of your grand foyer, was a girl being held down by two men on her knees. Behind her, every single one of your maids stood their sights straight down.

While in front of her is where you stood. Tall and proud. Wearing a stoic expression however the glint from earlier still in your eyes.

“Princess?? What do we have here?” Seonghwa asks.

Your husbands have all now gathered around you on top of the staircase. Simply enjoying the show.

You spin on your heels to look up at them with a wide cheshire grin. “You’ll see my loves!”

“Sirs..! Sirs please!! Please help me! She’s mistaken!”

SMACK

“Don’t you dare speak to my husbands.” You growl. “Ugh look at what you’ve done! You’ve gotten blood on my new ring!” Your finger now slightly dripping blood from where the diamond cut her cheek.

“Oh no.. No worries sweetheart, we’ll make you a new one.” San tells you.

“Oooh! Alright Sannie Thank you!”

“Please.. why are you doing this?? What did I do wrong?”

Your laugh then rings out throughout the foyer. Echoing beautifully off the walls.

“Stop your pathetic little act.” You say as you crouch down to her eye level.

“I know you were the one that snitched about me.”

At this revelation your husbands became even more interested than before. They all perked up and blood boiling again now that they finally have the culprit.

“What?! Who even are you??!”

They’re so angry they want to just run down and tear her limb from limb. However they know you have something plan. So they just let you have your fun.

You smirk widens at Wooyoungs question. As you know how reality shattering it is to her.

“W-what..? You don’t.. recognize me?? Sir Wooyoung! I’ve worked here for years!! ..None.. of you recognize me?” She asks pitifully.

As she looks up at all of them, she sees nothing but fury and confusion. Not a single one of them having any knowledge on who she is.

SMACK

“I told you. Do not. EVER. Speak. To MY. Husbands.”

You then got up and turn back to your loves above you.

“My darlings. This here. Used to be one of our maids. And she thought that by getting rid of me. She could have all of you.”

“What?!”

“How absurd!”

“How stupid is what that is!”

“No! Its not true! It’s not! It wasn’t me!!! I-I would never betray any of you!” She continues to plea.

“Then why. Did. You. Run?”

“I-I didn’t..”

“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice your absence ever since I was returned home? Hah! It’s what gave you away! And you actually thought they would? and what?! go searching for you?!” You laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

“The day after I returned home from my kidnapping. I realized we were short staffed. It didn’t take me long to realize it was you. When I asked, Kim said you resigned due to health. I didn’t believe it for a second. So I had them search your room. And look what I found!”

At your signal, The head maid Kim stepped forward and gave you a pile of letters.

Love letters.

“Hmm. I’m sure you can guess what these are. You wrote them. Each and every one of them. You didn’t hide them very well. Not sure why you didn’t even just burn or take them with you.” You scoff.

“They’re quite romantic actually… If. They weren’t addressed to my beloveds.”

Her blood has gone cold. She doesn’t know what to do. She can only kneel there looking up at you as she fears her fate.

Unfortunately her fate was sealed the second she began writing these letters.

“I-it’s not.. no… I-I never even gave it to them! Please!! It’s not what it looks like.”

“You thought once you got rid of me. You could swoop in and take my place. However once I came back alive, you decided to run. Thinking I would never suspect you. You then also believed that any of my husbands would realize you stopped being around and come looking for you! Because somehow you have convinced yourself that they’re in love with you! They don’t even know you!!”

“THEY LOVE ME!!!”

SMACK

“Oh. That was the hardest one yet.” Mingi whispers to Yunho. Who nods in agreement.

While on the other side of the staircase Yeosang whispers to Jongho about how this maid is insane to ever think that.

“100%.”

“They don’t. Why would they?” You start then throwing her letters in her face.

“Why would distinguished men like them ever waste space in their brains for a lowly pathetic slut like you? Let alone space in their hearts.”

“…I just..”

“Enough talking. You’ve said far more than you deserve. And frankly I’m bored already.”

You then extend your hand out. One of the henchmen that was holding her down then hands you a syringe.

The girl then panics at the sight of an unknown syringe.

“Wait no please! Whats in that?! What are you gonna do to me?!”

“You could’ve had anything you wanted in this mansion. Anything. And I promise you. I would’ve happily given them to you. My clothes. My shoes. My jewels. My gold. Anything. I’m just that generous.”

You open the syringe cap.

“However the thing you decided to covet? Were the only things that were forbidden. My. Prized possessions. My husbands. And for that. You must suffer the consequence.”

Before she can even let out another sound of protest you injected her straight in the neck.

You and the men holding her down then stepped back as her screams quickly filled the foyer. Her skin and flesh melting straight off of her bones.

“So thats what she ordered acid for.” Hongjoong then mumbles.

“You knew she ordered acid?” Wooyoung asks

“She used my card.” Hongjoong shrugs.

It was a ghastly sight but none of them were even slightly bothered.

Well.

Of course the other maids were.

Once her screams come to a halt. And she was nothing but a pile of goop on the once spotless marbled floor.

You laughed.

Your husbands then descended the stairs.

Once your laughing fit was over you addressed the other maids who were still standing there. Mortified of what has become of their once friend.

“Now all of you. Remember my words. You are free to ask anything you want from me. I have more than enough for multiple lifetimes so I’ll be happy to give it to you. However. If you ever even for a nanosecond think. You could replace me or take any of my husbands away from me. Well. Ask her how that turned out for her.” Fire resonating deep in your voice.

“Thats all. Now all of you clean this up please!” You then say with a bright smile as if the past 20 minutes or so didn’t just happen.

“Come now darling. I believe I owe you a shopping trip.” Hongjoong then says as he puts his hand on your lower back.

“Ah yes!! Lets go! May all my beloveds come with?? Then we can have dinner?”

“Why not?” Yunho says with a bright smile.

Your husband then all lead you out to the car.

“You know no one could ever take us from you. Right Princess?” San says softly to you.

“Of course! I would never let them.”

“Of course you wouldn’t. We wouldn’t either.” Yeosang says.

“They literally can’t our love. You have us all wrapped around your pretty delicate fingers.” Wooyoung adds as he kisses your ring finger.

“I know.”

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

© mimikittysblog 2024

Tagging: @faeprincess777 @starygw3n @bee-gremlin @pinkpearlstar @sweetinsaniiity @puppyminnnie @borahae-reads @spenceatiny18 @justconniez @rosydipity @vtyb23 @beccaskz @boredlol914 @ntlmundy @latisthegenderfluidwannabealone @ateezswonderland @peachyy-jooniee @robertsbbygirl @hanniehq @smally97 @pixie0627 @haven-cove @jaerisdiction @btskzfav @bbyunicornbby @tinybada @cecilleasworld @mudent @mortal-advocate @jjcanwrite

Those who are italicized I could not tag for some reason :(

[crescenthistory]

Ask: hi, could you write something about barty with the prompt c5. ("there will not be a day where i am not there for you") like he receives a letter from his dad and u can tell something is off ab him and comfort him ? thank youu

Words: 1.4k

Warnings/tags: gn!reader, implied mental health struggles on barty's front, barty isolating himself, hurt/comfort, romanian!barty, general fluff and unconditional love

Note: this request is super old, i'm terribly sorry lmao, but better late than never? barty deserves all the love<33

You had not seen Barty in 5 hours.

Considering that the boy usually seemed to be attached to you by some invisible 5 metres rope, you were growing increasingly concerned. Your poor cheeks were being gnawed off at record speed, and you knew he would chide you for “maiming his lover” later, but you had other priorities at the moment.

Between your last two lessons, he had slipped off down some hallway and never returned. You paid it little mind to begin with, Barty often ran off on spontaneous, perhaps reckless adventures. It was in the whole school’s best interest to just let him, saving all your questions for when he comes back, demanding stories of his grand escapades – because he always came back to your side quickly. 

When he didn’t show up for dinner, your worry thus began to settle despite your trying to fight it. Sometimes he did skip dinner for an array of different reasons, but he always notified you. Throughout the meal your thoughts wandered off, all yearning for him, but you knew how much he would scold you if he found out you skipped dinner for him.

You would hold it against him, if he was not the first person to admit he was being a hypocrite.

You clung onto hope that you would find him in his common room or his dorm afterwards. When you opened the door to his dorm only to be met with their shared snake, Nova, as the only living being in the room, you finally allowed yourself to give in and accept defeat.

Barty was missing and you were worried.

Behind you, the tell-tale sounds of Regulus’ dance-like steps alerted you to his incoming presence. “Reg,” you said, poking your head out to catch his attention. “Barty hasn’t told you where he’s off to?”

Regulus gave you a bit of an odd look as he passed you in the doorway. “Does he ever?”

You gave him a look that hopefully said yeah, that’s fair before you straightened up once more. “Will you tell me if you see him?”

“If I see him, he’ll be here.” Regulus was clearly not in one of his more chatty moods. This time you gave him a look you knew said play nice. He sighed. “I’ll let you know, yeah. I’ll ask Evan too, when he gets here.”

You gave him a rueful smile. “Thank you Reggie, this is why you’re my favourite.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled as he laid down on his bed to read. You had enough wits about you to close the door before you left, not wanting a stinging curse to be thrown after you down the hallway and doubly not wanting Barty to get revenge on Regulus for doing so. He always found out somehow.

This was not Barty’s first time disappearing, nor did you suspect it would be his last. You usually had a list of reasons why he might run off and places to look for him if he did.

Had he been in a particularly jittery or theatrical mood, you would have been worse off, as he quite literally could be anywhere where he might cause the most damage and drama. Usually you would begin in Gryffindor or the Care for Magical Creatures classroom, but thankfully you did not have to resort to those measures.

Because Barty had been in a very distinctive restrained mood that only you and a select few of his friends ever seemed to be able to decipher. When you first met him, you thought that mood meant he was annoyed somehow – now you knew that when Barty was truly irritated, he grinned like a maniac. 

This almost stoicness meant only one thing; Barty was feeling vulnerable. Maybe even defeated.

Which quickly limited his hiding spots to places where he could grasp at some privacy without feeling trapped. Considering that the last time he tried to hide away in the prefect’s bathroom, he got caught by none other than James Potter, the poor sod, you narrowed your best bet down to the Astronomy Tower.

Led by a gut instinct and a mouthful of compassion, you scurried up the hundreds of steps needed, hoping to find him and not accidentally stumble in on some awkward attempt at a date between some fourth years.

When you tried to turn the handle to the Astronomy Tower’s door only to find it to be magically locked, you knew you were right in your judgement.

“Barty? Are you in there, love, it’s me?” you called through the door, aiming at making your voice as steady as possible. He hated being treated like he was fragile, at least before he was curled up in your arms.

The faint buzzing sound in your ears alerted you to the fact that he had thrown a muffliato over the room, meaning you wouldn’t hear him if he replied. He could still hear you, though, so you tried your luck further.

“It’s alright, B. I’m here.” You hoped to Merlin he could hear the love and reassurance dripping from your words.

The whirring sound was interrupted by a faint click as the lock was opened. Taking extra precautions, you looked behind you to ensure you would be alone and slipped in through the door, locking it behind you once more without looking.

Fresh air filled your lungs the second you stepped into the tower – one of the reasons why it was such a great place to escape to when feeling anxious or down or both. Your heart was similarly filled when you saw Barty sitting in a large windowsill with his knees pulled up to his chest, staring out with an empty gaze.

“Hi there, lovely,” you said rather cheerily, making your relaxed state penetrate the atmosphere of doom that followed Barty on these days.

You walked over and went to lift yourself up into the windowsill, only for Barty to break free of his trance for a moment to take your hand and elbow and help you navigate carefully until you were seated across from him, legs entangling with his own. He let out a breath. “Hi, Dragă.”

You smiled carefully at him, settling into your place and letting the cold from the window seep in through your clothes without a bother. You leaned forward so your body was bent in half to rest your chin on his propped up knees, giving you a perfectly clear vision of his face. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t want you to have to talk about it.”

Barty always did that when something was wrong – denying you of any responsibility or option to help, assuming it was below you to do so. After a few years attached at the hip, he had learned he could not make you “realise you should leave his arse”, but he would still aim to shield you from himself on these days.

Other days, he would do anything to make you not realise, desperate to claw you to himself. A boy that contained multitudes, each one equally lovable in your opinion, to which he called you horribly insane. 

“At least we’ve got that in common, babe.”

“I don’t have to do anything,” you reassured quietly, chin moving against his kneecaps. “I really do want to, though. Be there for you, I mean.”

His gaze met yours, softening at the authenticity and affection surely plastered all over your face. He brought a previously dead hand up from beside him to stroke his knuckles over your left cheek, moving them backwards into your hair. “You always are, aren’t you?”

You let your smile widen at him embracing your care. “There will not be a day where I am not here for you, B. Whether you want me to or not.”

His eyes flickered with a vulnerability only you ever saw. The next thing he said was so meek that you almost didn’t catch it, but flowers bloomed in your stomach when you did. “I want you to.”

You reached your own hand up to catch his in your hair and brought the inside of his wrist towards your mouth to press slow, gentle kisses to it. “I’m glad, lovely. Now spill.”

[authorhjk1]

Since you're a fellow Fromis_9 nagyung enjoyer do you think you could do a nagyung short about her and her significant other trying to sneak around the other members to find “a quiet moment to themselves”

Nowhere to hide

(Lee Nagyung X Male Reader)

You hate lying. If there is something everyone knows about you, it's that you don't lie. Never.

"Oh no! I hope it doesn't hurt too much?"

Being the caring woman she is, Lee Saerom looks at you with love in her eyes as she hears what happened.

"Well, the doctor said he shouldn't be alone for a while, since he can't walk properly."

You are able to send an angry glare in your girlfriend's direction.

This isn't how it was supposed to go.

The members of Fromis_9 planned on going on a two week trip to Hawaii. The flight was booked for today and everyone was already at the airport. Except for your girlfriend.

Nagyung still has to do a shoot for her new drama in two days. Which would've meant that she would have flown to Hawaii later.

Because you have to work, there was no way you could come with them. That's why you and Nagyung decided to use the two days of this weekend to enjoy each other's company. Aka fuck like rabbits, until one of you passes out.

But to your dismay, your alone time didn't last very long. Nagyung was already on your lap, grinding her ass onto your cock. Your pants were around your ankles, your wet dick leaving small marks on her blue jeans. Your messy kiss made her moan into your mouth.

Suddenly both of you heard the electronic lock getting unlocked. Nagyung quickly got off your lap and you were able to cover yourself with one of the blankets on the couch.

The seven girls weren't that surprised to see you. You are Nagyung's boyfriend after all. They explained that the bad weather, which is now haunting the whole Korean peninsula, made air traffic come to a halt. Which means that they would stay home.

And being the thoughtless, horny maniac she is, Nagyung told everyone that you would have to stay with her over the weekend.

"He almost got hit by a car!"

She exclaimed, after the girls asked for the reason.

She wasn't lying at that point in time. You really almost got run over by a car on the way to their dorm. The woman ignored the red light and drove over your right foot. It hurt a little, but it wasn't bad.

But you definitely did not see a doctor. Because it already stopped hurting.

You know why Nagyung said it though. This girl lives for sex. She literally can't help it. It might come from the fact that she always lives with her members and just has barely any opportunity to satisfy her carnal desires like a normal person.

But it can't be the only reason. You noticed very early into your relationship with her, how addicted Nagyung is to sex. She could do it anytime anywhere. Whenever you were the one who initiated something, she was already dripping wet. It didn't matter where you were, or what you did. A restaurant date, a stroll through the park, hanging out with her members, shopping. Nagyung would always find a way to get what she wanted.

But it's not always as great as it sounds. Of course you like to have sex with her. But Nagyung is just different. The longer the time period without sex, the more aggressive she becomes. You wonder, if you just deny her long enough, would she just drop to the her knees in the middle of a shopping mall and suck you off? Maybe.

But the longer this sexless period becomes, the less she is interested in your pleasure as well. Nagyung does care for you. But if she has to wait for too long, your needs come second.

Which brings us back to the present. The eight girls stand in the living room of their dorm, Nagyung in front of you, next to Saerom.

You are aware that with only one movement of her hand, you would be sitting completely naked in front of all of them.

"Why don't you unpack your things again, girls? The weather forecast said it's gonna take a while, until we can fly again."

You sigh in relief, when the members follow Nagyung's advice.

As soon as the last one leaves the room, you throw the blanket off your lap. Nagyung drops to her knees again, just like she did a couple of minutes ago. You expect her to help you with putting your pants back on. Instead, Nagyung puts her elbows on your knees, taking your cock into her hand.

"Nagyung..."

You watch in disbelief as she wraps her lips around your tip.

"What the fuck are you doing? They will be back in a second."

Nagyung glares at you as you pull her off your cock.

"I'm so fucking horny. I need you right now."

"Later."

You hiss at her, closing the zipper of your pants.

A second later, Jiheon and Soyeon stand in the doorway.

One hour later~

You are still sitting on the couch. Some of the girls have joined, wanting to keep you company and distract you from the pain in your foot. When the movie you are now watching started, Saerom put the blanket back onto your lap, wanting to take care of you. Nagyung, who is sitting on your left, while Saerom, Jiwon and Hayoung are sitting on your right, uses this opportunity to invade your privacy.

You feel her hand on your thigh first, the blanket covering it. After barely a minute (she couldn't hold out longer) her hand starts to move towards your crotch. Moving your head, you glare at your girlfriend.

"Nakko..."

You whisper, trying to stop her.

But you know she won't. At the seame time, she uses her other hand to take one of yours. She slowly guides it towards her own core.

A moment later, you find yourself rubbing your girlfriend's pussy over her jeans, while her fingers wrap around your cock. You are afraid that one of the girls could just turn her head.

But nothing happens as Nagyung slowly makes you unzip her jeans. You know she isn't wearing underwear. She barely does. Especially not at home.

You dip a finger inside of her, making her sigh. Giving Nagyung another glare, you try to tell her to be quiet. If you can be silent, surely she can be too.

Her thumb draws circles on your tip, while she slowly pumps your cock. You finger her slowly, still afraid of getting caught.

"You guys wanna order some food?"

Your heart drops as you hear Jiheon's voice.

As the maknae walks in, you quickly pull your finger out of Nagyung's wet cavern. Your girlfriend still has her hand wrapped around your cock, but she at least stopped stroking you.

"Or we could just cook, you know?"

Saerom turns her head to look at Jiheon.

"Are you gonna cook?"

Jiwon looks at their leader.

"Well..."

You feel how Nagyung starts to stroke your cock again. Very very slowly. But it still makes you shift around a little.

"Don't worry Saerom. We can cook together. The movie is over anyways."

You were so focused on not getting caught for the last couple of minutes that you didn't even notice.

As you watch how the four of them head to the kitchen, Nagyung is already tugging at your hand. The two of you close the door of her room behind you a moment later.

"Oh god. You have me so fucking wet."

You can't answer Nagyung, because she gets on her tiptoes and puts her tongue into your mouth.

Not that you are complaining. Her teasing, no matter how dangerous it was, left you horny as well. You quickly sit down on the edge of her bed as Nagyung straddles you once more. She grinds her core against yours, getting off on how hard she made you.

"Give it to me. I need to get fucked."

She breathlessly whispers into your mouth, before the two of you break away for air.

A moment later, Nagyung is on her knees, your pants are around your ankles once more. Her blowjob is quick and effective. She knows how to push your buttons and she is making use of that.

"Fuck, Nakko."

A couple of moments later, Nagyung stands up and walks over to the bed on the other side of the room. She takes Jiheon's plushy. A small brown bear, holding a red heart.

"I need this, because you are going to fuck me hard now."

She pushes the chair away from the desk between the beds, bending over.

"Fuck me like you hate me."

With that, your girlfriend puts the bear into her mouth, biting down on it.

You are not surprised that it fits inside. And you are not surprised at her words. When she is this horny, Nagyung doesn't care about her own wellbeing. As long as she is getting fucked.

You quickly stand behind her, unbuttoning her jeans.

"Fuck you are tight."

You groan as you push inside of Nagyung. The jeans around her knees press her legs together, making her tighter than usual.

Saerom and Jiwon seem to argue in the kitchen. You can hear their distant voices as you start to take your girlfriend from behind. Just like she wanted. No build up. No going slowly. You are supposed to fuck her like you hate her.

Quickly, the sound of your hips snapping against her ass cheeks fill the otherwise silent room. Nagyung's moans are muffled by the stuffed bear in her mouth. Her knuckles turn white as she holds onto the edge of the desk. Both your hands hold onto her waist as you marvel how tight and fit Nagyung's body feels underneath your palms.

"Swpnk mwe."

You barely catch what she is trying to say. But knowing your girlfriend, you can guess what she is asking for.

Your tear one of your hands off her waist. It hits her left cheek a moment later. The sound is louder than you fucking her. Afraid that someone might have heard you, you wait a couple of thrusts, until you spank her again.

Nagyung's skin starts to turn red as you take out your anger at her on her cheeks. The way her pussy squeezes around you, tells you how well you are doing. She is barely able to keep it together. To hold the bear inside her mouth must be hard for her. She lost her hold on the edge of the desk a couple of thrusts ago. Now her nails scratch the wooden surface.

"Mm my gowd!"

You hear Nagyung scream into the stuffed bear. The sign that she is close to her first orgasm of the day. If it weren't for the members, you would've made her cum several times already.

"Unnie!"

You heart freezes. And so does the rest of your body as you hear Jiheon's voice behind the door.

Before you are even able to think, you leave Nagyung's slick pussy. She is still too groggy to actively help you as you pull her jeans back up. Jumping under the covers, you take Nagyung with you, making her sit on the edge of the bed. You would get teased if Jiheon would find the both if you lying in the same bed.

"Come in."

You manage to say, right as the maknae opens the door.

The way Nagyung squeezes your hand tells you that she is raging inside. And hornier than ever. In that split second, she would've preferred getting caught, instead of failing to reach her orgasm.

"We are done cooking. Oh, how cute you guys look."

Jiheon's eye smile makes it hard to get worked up about her teasing the two of you.

"In a minute."

You say, very aware of the fact that you are still naked from the waist down.

9 pm~

You groan in disbelief. Nakko can't be serious. Checking the text you just got from her, you shake your head.

"Eat me out💦"

"We are still eating!!!"

"Don't you want dessert"

There is no use in arguing with her.

Walking out of the bathroom, you try to come up with a way to not make this mission too obvious. Luckily, everyone is glued to Jisun's phone. Seems like she is showing the girls a funny video.

Reaching the table, you quickly drop to your knees, getting underneath it. Finding Nagyung's lower half, you put your hands on her ankles. You feel her flinch, when you touch her.

You make your way up her legs, trying to at least build a little bit of anticipation. Once you reach her waist, you start to undo Nagyung's jeans once again. She slightly raises her hips, enabling you to pull them down to her ankles.

Now that you have a good view of your girlfriend's snatch. You realize that she wasn't completely off. You really want dessert now. Its wet folds invite you to have taste. The scent of vanilla invades your nostrils, evidence of the fact that Nagyung is very conscious about how she smells.

Instead of just diving in, you start to pepper her inner thighs with small kisses. It makes her legs quiver in need. The heat coming from her core increases as you keep teasing Nagyung. You start to lick the skin of her thighs from the bottom to the top, just stopping an inch away from her pussy.

Once you've worked her up well enough, you place your tongue right below her snatch. You trace the outlines of her lips, getting your first taste of your girlfriend's pussy for tonight. Because of the strong vanilla scent, it almost seems like she tastes like vanilla herself.

You feel Nagyung's leg tensing, when you finally press your tongue flat against her pussy. Her toes start to curl into the carpet underneath the table as you start to properly eat her out. The other girls' voices seem to fade into the distance as Nagyung's thighs start to close around your head. You like the feeling of them wrapped around you as you indulge in your dessert.

Your hands are placed on her waist, your fingertips exploring her tight midriff. Nagyung either wears something very comfortable, or something very sexy at home. It depends on her mood and the time of the day. Either way, she always ensures that you have quick access to any area you need to stimulate for her to cum. Her midriff being one of them. Nagyung loves the way you adore her tight body and with that, her discipline and hard work. She gets wet when ever you praise her. It doesn't have to be in a sexual way though. A simple "Your food tastes great." can make her rub her thighs together in need of stimulation.

You feel like you are in your own world as you enjoy your girlfriend's pussy. It's something that happens quite a lot actually. Especially when the two if you don't have time or a quiet place, like today. In moments like this, her needs come before yours. You are happy going with that, knowing that she will reward you even more, when the time comes.

You hear Nagyung stutter a reply, when Jiheon asks her something. Your girlfriend is slowly starting to lose her composure. Wanting to punish her for taking such risks, you start to suck on her clit.

The switch up makes Nagyung's legs shake once more. You know that she is close already. Her juices are starting to make her pussy glisten in the dim light underneath the table.

Another flick of your tongue against her clit and Nagyung finally becomes undone. Her hand reaches down to take a handful of your hair into her fist, trying to find an outlet for her pleasure. Her thighs threaten to suffocate you as they close around you, shaking.

"Are you alright, Nakko?"

Your eyes widen in fear of getting caught. It would be really awkward if someone would look under the table right now.

"Y-Yes, unnie. T-The food is just very delicious."

Nagyung answers Hayoung with her shaky voice.

9:45 pm~

"Are you sure this isn't too much for your foot?"

You almost sigh in annoyance. Not because of Saerom, who asked the question, because of Nagyung who made you stick to her lie.

"Don't worry, noona. It's not bad. Plus, we will be sitting the whole time anyway."

The girls spontaneously decided to go watch a movie, after Jisun showed them a funny trailer on her phone.

Nagyung convinced the others that you and her should take your car, while her members walk to the cinema, since it's not far, but your foot still hurts. All were okay with it, except Saerom. Being the caring leader she is, she wanted to make sure that you are doing alright. You knew why Nagyung suggested for you two to get into the car alone. She is now sulking in backseat. You can't help but glance at her occasionally.

Nagyung couldn't have been more clear about her intentions, once she stepped out of her room, after she changed her outfit. Her black top exposed just enough skin to not be inappropriate at a movie theater. Her skirt is the highlight of her outfit. And you know, why she is wearing one.

She catches you glancing a couple of times. With flirty winks or suggestive looks at her core, she makes it clear to you what she is expecting to happen soon.

10: 30 pm~

The movie had already begun and you enjoy the bucket of popcorn that is sitting on your lap. You are sharing it with Nagyung, who is sitting on your left. The other members are sitting in order of age on your right, Jiheon being the one sitting right next to you.

After a jump scare early on, the maknae instinctively buried her head in your shoulder, trying not to look at the screen. After Nagyung regained her composure, she saw what was going on. You knew that this would only fuel her desire for your cock even more. The fact that Jiheon is physically intimate with you isn't a new thing. It's more like a brother/sister relationship. And yet, Nagyung's narrowed eyes, which glisten in the dark theater, tell you that you are in for a long and rough night.

Your girlfriend finally jumps into action halfway through the movie. While she has been holding your hand this entire time, Jiheon kept hugging your arm, whenever she was afraid of another jump scare.

When you glance at Nagyung again, she gives you a meaningful look. You can't hold her back as you see her getting off her seat. She gets on her knees in front of you. The dark theater and the rather dark movie make her almost invisible.

You feel her pushing the bucket of popcorn a little higher, making room for her head underneath. From now on, you feel more than you see what she is doing. Her hands unbuckle your belt in silence, before she unzips your pants. Pulling down your boxers a little bit, your cock falls victim to her tongue.

Nagyung starts to suck you off in the middle of the theater. The girls and you aren't even the only once present. You shift around in your seat as Nagyung takes you deeper into her warm mouth. She is trying to stay quiet, but you can feel her hum in blissful delight at the taste of your cock.

You almost scream internally as Jiheon reaches inside the bucket on top of Nagyung's head. She pushes it down a little as she searches for a handful of popcorn. The unexpected push forces Nagyung further down your cock. In that moment, you are thankful for the fact that Nagyung got used to your size early on in your relationship. Even when your cock is halfway down her throat, just like right now, she is able to fight her gag reflex like a pro. The beautiful and lewd sounds and slurps she usually does for show are replaced by silent anticipation and determination.

Once Jiheon's hand leaves the bucket, Nagyung gets back to properly giving you head. Her hands now rest on your thighs as she starts to fuck her face with your cock. Silently of course. But hot as fuck nonetheless. You can't tell how long you will be able to keep it together. Is she going to make you nut right here?

You feel Nagyung's tongue play with the underside of your shaft, whenever she lifts her head off your cock. Afterwards, you hit the back of her throat, when she buries her face in your lap again. There is pretty much no sound coming from her. You are actually amazed at how good she is. And at the same time, you realize that you won't be able to stay silent for much longer. If she keeps going, you're gonna cum in the middle of the theater.

You are glad when Nagyung finally lifts her head off your cock completely. But your heart sinks once more, when she announces in a slightly raspy voice:

"I'm cold, oppa. Can we cuddle some more?"

Before you can protest, Nagyung is already sitting on your lap. Or rather on your cock. The bucket has moved to her own lap now. Apart from Chaeyoung and Jiheon, who glance at your direction, no one really cares. Except for Jiheon, who has a teasing grin on her face.

You feel your girlfriend grinding against your hard, wet cock, fitting it between her perfect cheeks. Resigning to your inevitable fate, you reach under Nagyung's skirt. No panties. Who would've thought? You wrap one arm around her waist, while the other aligns your cock with her wet core. Nagyung seems to have gotten off just as much as you by giving you head in public.

When she smoothly glides down your shaft, you can't help but sink your teeth into her naked shoulder to muffle your moan. Nagyung gasps, the others probably think because she is feeling cold.

But you know better. With both hands on her round ass cheeks, you lift Nagyung off your cock, after you've recovered from that initial spike of pleasure. Only your tip remains inside your girlfriend, before you slowly impale her on your cock again. You don't care about not being able to watch the movie. The way Nagyung's head slightly tilts back in pleasure is entertaining enough. Her pussy is leaving your cock coated with her juices, whenever you push her upwards.

"Too bad we can't go faster."

You whisper into her left ear, making sure Jiheon is oblivious.

Nagyung is too busy with biting her lip to be able to respond. It gives you control of the situation and you plan on using it to your advantage.

"You are such a slut."

Nagyung gasps as her ass meets your lap. You use your left hand to cover her mouth, while your right is flatly pressed against her midriff.

"You can't even wait a couple of hours, until we are alone, huh?"

You can't see Nagyung's head, but you can feel her shaking it.

"Needy whore."

You degrade her further with your words. Nagyung's pussy seems to tighten in response. The amount of juices that slowly trickle out of her makes her body glide down your cock like it's part of a well oiled machine.

"You would do anything for my cock. Right?"

She nods her head. Knowing that that's the only right answer. Even when she has you inside of her, just like right now, she would still do anything to keep you in place.

"Would you even let me fuck one of the girls?"

Nagyung immediately shakes her head.

You wouldn't have asked that question, if it wasn't for her search history. She asked you to google something on her phone a couple of days ago, because yours was out of battery and she was busy. Like the thoughtless, horny maniac she is, Nagyung didn't use the private tab option, or erased her browser history, after her sinful alone time.

You don't have anything against her watching porn. You can barely keep up with her sex drive anyway. And it's not like she has to watch it out of frustration, because you don't perform. It's just a way for her to get rid off just a little bit of stress.

Anyway, you know what kind of stuff she is usually looking for. And recently a new category has been popping up in her browser history several times. You were surprised to see it at first, because Nagyung is usually quite possessive of you. Your girlfriend seems to like porn, where the wife/girlfriend watches her man fuck her friend. Or at least have a threesome with a female friend.

"You don't want to watch how one of the girls give me head?"

You never really thought about her members like this before. Of course the are pretty. But you are in a relationship with Nagyung. And while she shakes her head again, you feel how her body is trying to tell you yes.

You ponder for a moment, if you should go further. Maybe mention someone in particular?

In that moment, Nagyung leans back against you, since she has kept her back straight this entire time. Her head leans against your shoulder. You see the teeth marks you left in her own. Nagyung carefully bites your hand, signaling you that she wants to say something. You release her off your grip.

"A-All o-of t-them."

Her needy moan makes you see stars. Is she actually serious? Even now, you don't actually consider doing this. It's just dirty talk to you. It's only there for making sure that you drive Nagyung over the edge as soon as possible.

"All of them?"

You cover her mouth again, so Nagyung is only able to nod.

"I bet Jiheon is really tight."

That sentence is all she needed. With a strong bite into your hand, Nagyung orgasms in your lap. It hurts. Not just her teeth, but her pussy as well. Because Nagyung is trying to stay silent, her entire body is already tense. It makes the muscles of her vagina work overtime, almost strangling your cock.

Luckily, she is able to stay silent. But you are now unable to hide your desire to finish yourself. You can't do that here though.

"Restroom. One minute."

Once Nagyung recovers, you squeeze her ass cheek as hard as you can, making her flinch in pain. Punishment for being such a naughty girlfriend.

1 am~

You never made it to the restroom. Both of you were unaware of what was going on around you. You only realised that the movie was over, when the members started to get up, once by one. It was still dark though, so you were able to pull your pants back up, before anyone noticed.

Now you are lying on the couch, staring at the white ceiling of the dorm's living room. All the girls are asleep. But you know it won't take long until...

And there she is. You hear her door open. And a moment layer, Nagyung is underneath the blanket.

2 am~

You have switched positions several times by now. First, Nagyung gave you head again, wanting you to be as hard as possible. You focused on her pussy next, eating her out to completion and earning a cute thank you. Nagyung rode you afterwards. Her hands on your shoulder, while she enjoyed the feeling of bouncing on your cock again and again. Then, you decided to bend her ove the back rest of the couch. You fucked your girlfriend hard and fast, making her cum for a forth time today.

She is now sitting on your lap, slowly riding you. After having satisfied her throughout the day, it is now her turn to offer her body to you in any way you want it.

You lean back, a little tired since it's late already, and just watch Nagyung slowly bounce up and down. Wanting to show off, she lets her hands wander over her midriff. You follow them with your eyes. Nakko plays with her own breasts, her head falling back as she enjoys the slow love making.

Eventually, she looks back down at you, smiling.

"I love you so much, oppa."

She kisses your lips. Her vanilla scent is still there, but one hour of fucking makes her smell a little sweaty. Evidence of having a good time.

"I love you too, Nakko."

You put your arms around her, holding onto one of your wrists with your other hand. It presses your girlfriend's body against yours, trapping her in your embrace.

"Why do you always have to be such a naughty brat?"

"Nagyung is no brat. She is just a needy slut for oppa's cock."

You're surprised that Nagyung is doing aegyo now.

"Is that so? Then why did Nagyung make me lie?"

"I just told you."

She pouts at you.

"Nagyung can't live without oppa's dick inside of her."

"What do you want oppa to do now?"

You play her little game, knowing how much it turns her on. Although, there isn't really something you can do that wouldn't turn her on. Nakko really is yours.

"Nagyung wants oppa to blast her face with cum. He must've build up a really big load throughout the day."

You can't say she is lying. After all these shenanigans, you are ready to finally let go of it all.

When you don't respond, because you want to see what happens next, Nagyung pouts at you.

"If... If you don't want to, you could come on someone else's face. Jiheon for example. Just let Nagyung watch please?"

You can't believe how far she is going with this.

"Would you wake her up?"

You feel Nagyung tightening around you as her pussy is still gliding along your shaft.

"No, oppa. Just cum on her. I'm sure she wouldn't mind."

You wonder for a moment if that's actually true. The idea makes you want to cum right now.

"Alright. If you promis to be a good girl from now on, I will cum on your face."

Her smile seems to light up the room.

"Thank you, oppa. Nagyung will be a good girl for oppa."

You help her with getting off of you. Nagyung quickly gets on her knees, ready to blow you to completion. She greedily sucks on your cock, big eyes looking up at you. You are almost there already. Nagyung is only able to get a couple of sucks and licks in, before you take your cock out of her mouth.

Her eyes give you permission to completely ruin her face. Wit your cock in your hand, you quickly get off the couch. A second later, you start to cum all over Nagyung. She blissfully gasps in surprise, when she feels your hot semen coat her face. Her lips, cheeks, nose, eyes, none of it got spared. You aim a little lower, making your last shots hit her collarbone and tits.

"Oppa..."

Nagyung sighs lustfully, her lips still connected by a string of cum, even when she speaks.

"This was worth lying about. Am I not right?"

Her cheeky grin makes you take a fistful of her long, silky hair.

"Let's see what Jiheon says, when she wakes up and sees your face covered in my cum."

-------------

Hi everyone!

Once again, I have to apologize for not being able for keeping this short. I planned on spending 20 minutes on it at most. It took me way more in the end. Hope you guys will be able to enjoy it anyways.

Because of some issues with Tumblr, I lost the last scene completely and had to rewrite it, so I apologize if it feels a little bit rushed. After losing like 20 minutes of work, I just wanted to finish it and post it.

The aegyo stuff is probably something not all of you are into, but I wanted to try and write the duality Nagyung sometimes has.

Thank you for reading!

Stay healthy!

[butchgatha]

make your good love known to me

pairing: agatha harkness x rio vidal

summary: agatha enchants rio's strap-on. it's just smut.

warnings: smut, light dom/sub (sub!rio), enchanted dildo, hand jobs, blow jobs, dirty talk

w/c: 4.6k

men + minors dni | ao3 link | masterlist

Even the firm grip on her hips, fingertips squeezing so tight she was sure they would bruise, couldn’t keep Rio from grinding herself down on Agatha’s thigh. Rio was moaning into Agatha’s mouth, kissing her fervently and without breaks, stealing her breath from her lungs just as she so often did to her. 

Just when Rio thought she might have the upperhand, that she may get to take charge just this once, Agatha sat right up, knocking Rio back onto her haunches over her lap. She gasped, nearly losing her balance until Agatha threaded a hand into her hair and tugged her head back. 

“It’s never going to be that easy,” Agatha teased. 

Rio groaned then, only half-frustrated by the way Agatha could see right through her antics. “I want to make you feel good,” she rebutted. She let her hands rest on Agatha’s waist, ignoring the sting of her scalp. “You deserve a break sometimes.” 

Agatha laughed, sounding genuinely amused, and released Rio’s hair from her hand. “Good try.” She slipped out from under Rio then, leaving her kneeling on the mattress. “Be right back.” 

A kiss to the side of Rio’s head didn’t deter her from groaning, watching over her shoulder as Agatha disappeared into the closet. “Agatha,” Rio called after her. 

“You’re impatient,” Agatha called back, not even trying to sound annoyed.

She emerged a moment later holding a jet-black dildo and a harness, and something stirred in Rio at the sight. From the bed, Rio watched as Agatha approached–she was staring at the items in her hands with rapt attention and mumbling to herself. Before Rio could comment on the strangeness of it all, Agatha was in front of her again, her eyes darkened with a scheming desire that sent a pang of butterflies through Rio’s stomach. 

“Not so smart now, are we?” Agatha teased. She tossed the strap-on onto the mattress and beckoned Rio over with a curled finger. “Come here.” 

Rio stood from the bed then, knees wobbling only for a moment as she closed the gap between them, and in an instant Agatha’s hands were on her. She tugged at Rio’s shirt, the loose material gliding smoothly as she pulled it over her head. Not a second later, she was pulling at the waistband of Rio’s jeans, her fingers deftly undoing the button and zipper before stripping them off her. Since she hadn’t been wearing a bra to begin with, all that was left were her underwear, which Agatha promptly ignored in favour of pushing her back onto the mattress. 

“I’m impatient?” Rio laughed, watching as Agatha tore her own clothes from her body. 

“Shut up.” 

Rio bit back her laugh at that, choosing instead to admire the expanses of skin being slowly revealed to her. Agatha’s stomach was the first to appear as she removed her shirt, followed closely by her bra. Rio reached out then, hoping to either help or at least get her hands on the soft skin that called to her, but Agatha swatted her hands away. 

“No,” was all she said, voice firm and final. 

Rio pushed back anyway. “I want to feel you, Agatha, please,” she said softly.

Agatha seemed thoroughly amused by that statement, and she laughed to herself. “I’m sure we can sort something out.” 

Rio had no idea how to respond to that, but much to her luck Agatha had just finished undressing herself, anyway, leaving herself in just her bra and underwear. She was gorgeous like this, as she always was, and it made Rio’s head spin to think about what exactly Agatha had in store. She loved the look she got when she was truly in the zone, the deeply obsessed, sort of maniacal one that always appeared when she was at her most inspired as she would say–Rio could see it blooming now, starting with the slight smirk on her lips.

Agatha took two steps forward to the bed and, without speaking, tugged Rio’s underwear down–an action that made Rio suddenly aware of just how sodden the material was, making her cheeks flush hot. “Stand up,” she said, sounding quite disengaged despite the brazen look on her face. 

Rio did, and, with a growing throb between her legs, watched as Agatha picked up the dildo and harness from the bed. Wordlessly, Agatha secured everything to Rio’s person, the straps sliding taut against her bare skin until it was just right. Then, right at the end, just when she should have been standing up, stepping back to admire her work, Rio saw her pause, the slight sounds of mumbled words hitting her ears. 

“What are you-”

“Sit back down.” 

Without question, Rio obliged. Whatever was at the edge of Agatha’s tone told her not to push, not because it would end badly, but instead because whatever she was planning was that much better. There was a certain twinkle in her eye, something devious and devising, so alluring Rio couldn’t bear even the thought of resisting. The dildo bounced as she sat, but before Rio could do anything with it Agatha took both her hands in hers. She was standing right in front of her, their knees all but knocking, and she took advantage of the closeness to place each of Rio’s hands at her sides, holding them there for a moment until Rio realized she was prompting her to grab at the sheets under her palms. 

“Good,” Agatha murmured.

She spoke almost absentmindedly, like she was miles away just thinking. Still, she leaned in next, coming so close to Rio that their lips grazed oh-so lightly, a tingle jolting through Rio’s chest. It was soft, a sweet moment wherein their noses brushed and their eyes fell to each other’s lips and Rio almost forgot she was sitting completely nude on the edge of the bed with a dildo strapped around her hips. Almost. 

Rio squirmed then, hyper aware of Agatha’s proximity and the promise of something particularly sinister on Agatha’s part. Whatever she’d mumbled, what sounded vaguely like an incantation that was barely audible over the thumping beat of her heart in her ears, had to have meant something, but she couldn’t fathom what exactly, not when she was so painfully turned on that even just thinking about it made her clit throb. 

“Someone’s desperate,” Agatha teased. She tugged her bottom lip into her mouth with her teeth and sort of smirked. “I almost feel bad…” 

She was lying, of course, but Rio took the bait anyway. “C’mon, Agatha,” she tried, hoping feigned nonchalance would get her what she wanted, which just happened to be Agatha on top of her. “I know you want it, too.” 

Agatha scoffed. “I know you’re dripping for me, Rio. You can’t hide from me.” 

“Then give me what I want, Agatha,” Rio pressed. She tried her very best to put on that sultry voice she knew would either piss Agatha off or turn her on–either outcome was favourable to waiting. 

“Right,” Agatha smirked. Then, her voice dropped low. “You wanted to feel me?” 

Rio’s breath caught in her chest at that, and she could practically feel her eyes glaze over with sudden arousal. “Yes,” she murmured. 

“Well then…” Agatha lifted her hands from where they were resting on the bed. “Can you feel me?” she asked, her voice barely above a hum. 

Rio moaned then, feeling exactly what Agatha wanted her to–her hand wrapped around the dildo, squeezing just so as it slid right down to the base. “Fuck.”

She hadn’t ever wondered if anything like this was possible, never having considered using her magic in the bedroom this way, and Rio regretted that immensely the very second she felt Agatha’s fingers on the faux-cock attached to her hips. It was an impossible feeling, so tangible yet just out of reach, the sensations crossing and mixing with her own need and arousal, the throbbing of her cunt interspersing the movement of Agatha’s hand.  

A wicked chuckle left Agatha’s mouth, each lilt tightening the muscles in Rio’s lower stomach. “You like that, don’t you? So greedy… but we knew that already.” 

Agatha closed the gap between their mouths at last and slotted her lips between Rio’s, knocking the breath right from Rio’s lungs. It was desperate, no rhythm or true pace, and the unpredictability worsened Rio’s arousal. Her head was full of cotton balls, not a viable thought between the tufts of fluff and fuzz, and it took everything in her to keep kissing Agatha back because of it. 

Agatha’s hand had set a languid pace, so slow Rio could have sworn she wasn’t even moving at times, and god was it torture. The push and pull of her touch was something so unlike anything Rio had ever felt before, her entire body on edge from just the light pressure. It was overwhelming, so unique and specific, the true pleasure just out of reach–so close she could taste it in her mouth, right on her tongue, right where Agatha’s own tongue slid across hers. 

The sudden intrusion surprised her, and Rio moaned at it, the sound completely muffled by Agatha’s mouth. Whatever efforts she was making to reciprocate Agatha’s efforts, to kiss her back against the fog of her need, were moot then, her will futile against the thrum of her lust spreading through her. 

How quickly she dissolved into a puddle in her hands–her hips were canting upward seeking more, imploring Agatha to quicken the pace, but it was no use. Agatha’s hand disappeared and she broke away from Rio’s lips. With a whine, Rio leaned in after her, chasing her warmth and friction, but Agatha was too far gone. Her eyes opened at once, searching for Agatha somewhere far away, but she was still so close, close enough that they may have even been sharing breath, just staring at her with a satisfied smile on her face. 

“Poor thing,” Agatha cooed, her pouty tone a stark contrast to her smug expression. “Don’t you worry, I’ll make sure you get what you need.”

Agatha sank down between Rio’s legs slowly, never once breaking eye contact. Rio wanted to tip her head back and moan, to let out such a gutturally vulgar noise at just how desperately turned on she felt, but she couldn’t fathom tearing her eyes off of Agatha’s face. She looked hungry, her eyes wild with a devious desire that only ever came out when she was at her meanest. Rio knew then she was in for it. 

The image of Agatha kneeling at her feet, slotted right into the open space between Rio’s own weak knees, made her head spin. She’d seen her there before, of course, but the sight never got old. She was peering up at her with dark eyes, an amused smile toying at her lips, and with each passing second Rio could feel more heat pooling in her cheeks with the intensity of it all. Agatha openly admiring her, not the black strap sitting right in front of her eyes was enough to send her head reeling. 

Gently, Agatha’s hands smoothed up Rio’s thighs, her touch warm and electric across her skin. She moaned then, finally releasing the pent-up sound, her hips squirming just slightly at the sensation. 

Agatha’s thumbs pressed firmly inward, two pinpoints of pressure on each of Rio’s thighs. “Ah, ah,” she tutted. “Keep still.” 

Rio slammed her eyes shut, everything becoming too much all at once. “Sorry,” she mumbled, the word clumsy in her dry mouth. 

A laugh. “Don’t be, just behave yourself so I can give you what you asked for.” 

As many times as she’d felt Agatha’s tongue on her, nothing could have prepared her for the rife pleasure of her wet tongue licking a line up the bottom of her cock. She moaned loudly, her hands squeezing so tight around the sheets that she wondered if they might rip as she willed herself not to move. The need to please Agatha in that moment, as her spit was dripping down the strap so exquisitely, was strong; crushing, even. Rio was full of it, overflowing with a desperate need to obey that mixed deliciously with the sweet feeling of Agatha’s touch. 

Gingerly, Rio willed her eyes open and peered down at Agatha. She was staring up at her again, that starved look in her eye, and once Rio met her gaze she smirked.

“You’re all riled up and I haven’t even touched you yet,” she teased, her fingers dragging lightly down Rio’s thighs. “Such a pitiful thing.” 

It was a lie, she was doing so much and she knew it. Against her will, Rio felt her hips twitch in search of friction, of something to soothe the ache she felt building between her legs. “Agatha, please.”

“Look at you using your manners.” Agatha’s tone was condescending, sarcastic, and any other time Rio would have had an equally annoying rebuttal, but with her entire body tense and her head spinning she couldn’t find the words. “You’re so desperate for my attention. It’s pathetic.” 

Rio just nodded, because of course she did, because of course Agatha was right. Rio was pathetically affected, so desperate it was laughable, and every fibre of her being was alight with an insatiable urgency that only Agatha could remedy. She could feel herself dripping onto the bed, her sorely ignored cunt begging for attention she knew it wouldn’t be getting, and she couldn’t even bring herself to care. The foreign, alien feelings elicited by Agatha’s touch on her faux-cock were too heavenly to ignore–what little she’d received already was enough to excuse the aching throb of her clit beneath the base, enough for her to shove the urge to snap her legs closed and squeeze down deep enough she nearly forgot about it completely. 

When Agatha’s mouth finally descended onto the dildo, it was pure bliss. Her tongue laved across the underside as she went down, taking half of it easily between her lips before sucking gently around it. Rio’s stomach clenched hard, every muscle in her body taut as pleasure flooded her, a feeling so unfamiliar and so, so irresistible. She whimpered then, a moan that got caught in her throat spilling out in a broken series of whines, and, without thinking, she lifted one of her hands to Agatha’s hair. 

She tangled her fingers through the long hair that had fallen into Agatha’s face, gathering it and pulling it back so she could see the way the phallus disappeared into her mouth as she set yet another slow pace between her legs. 

Agatha’s head lifted and she looked up. “Careful.” 

It was a warning, but Rio kept her hand there, anyway. She didn’t pull, didn’t tug, she had no intention of interrupting the divine relief of Agatha’s touch. Wanton and ready, fully surrendered, Rio just wanted to see her deliverer as she ascended. 

Rio felt her place a hand near the base of the dildo next, her lithe fingers wrapping around the girth. Agatha lifted her hand once, twice, three times, then she leaned back in, letting the tip loll against her tongue as she welcomed it back into her mouth.. Their eyes locked in an intense stare, Rio watched as Agatha’s head bobbed up and down at a torturous pace, clearly intending to drag whatever this was out. Saliva dripped down the length of it, Agatha’s mouth leaving the strap wet in its wake, her tongue dripping spit right into Rio’s lap when it darted out to swathe closer to the bottom. Her hand worked near the base, twisting gently in time with her lips, and god if Rio wasn’t hellbent on watching every second she was sure she’d be passed out from the sheer intensity of the feeling. 

Agatha took Rio in her mouth like she was starved, filling her mouth to the brim each time she went down. The sounds floating up to Rio’s ears were so terribly pornographic, wet and loud in a way they had never been before, like Agatha was putting in more work now that she knew Rio could feel everything. The thought made her head spin, that Agatha might be doing the most just to please her, and she released another moan, her fingers twitching against Agatha’s scalp. 

As if she knew exactly what Rio was thinking, Agatha doubled down, her hand tightening just slightly as she bobbed lower. She gagged on it, and the sound went straight to Rio’s clit, her cunt throbbing with the vulgar noise and the subsequent flood of saliva from Agatha’s mouth. She groaned, her hips lifting involuntarily from the bed as Agatha’s lips wrapped back around her, the pleasure too much to take sitting still. Agatha didn’t scold her, not this time, and instead she repeated her previous action, gagging on Rio’s length twice more in what Rio could only assume was some twisted reward. 

Her eyes were still glued to Agatha as she pulled herself off, strings of saliva running from her reddened lips to the tip of the dildo. She released the base, and only then was Rio reminded of just how badly she was throbbing, still needing to feel Agatha on her, and she whined. 

Agatha chuckled, her eyes closing gently as she took a breath. “Pathetic,” she mumbled. “Lay back against the pillows,” Agatha said, gesturing toward the bed. 

Scrambling, nearly stupid from just how turned on she was, Rio clambered backward until she fell back onto the plush pillows at the head of the bed. She looked over at Agatha and found her on her feet, watching her fulfill her every request with a heady stare. Only when Rio made eye contact did Agatha begin to move–she pulled down her underwear and tossed it somewhere behind her, then climbed up onto bed after Rio, never once allowing Rio’s gaze to wander.  

A second later, Agatha’s knees bracketed Rio’s hips and her hands pressed into Rio’s shoulders for balance. She looked disheveled, her hair mussed and her face clouded with something carnally aroused, and in that moment Rio was sure she’d never seen anything more beautiful. Her skin nearly shone in the warm light, pleading to be touched at every curve and dip by Rio’s roaming hands, but she resisted. She knew Agatha wouldn’t tolerate any wayward touch, though she hadn’t yet said it–she always knew before Agatha did, anyway. Instead, Rio just set her palms gently on the fronts of Agatha’s thighs, not coaxing, not pressuring, just resting. 

As if to reward her restraint, Agatha began to slowly sink down onto Rio, her hips inching lower as she took the length of the cock inside of her–her mouth open in a soft ‘O’ as her hands squeezed at Rio’s shoulders. Immediately, Rio felt it, the warmth of Agatha’s cunt swallowing her, her silken arousal seeping out around her, and she gasped loudly, shaken by the sheer euphoria of such foreign sensations. And the sight, oh the vision before her of Agatha’s pussy stretching around her cock, taking her in little by little until she bottomed out, it was just too much. The sounds coming from her mouth slowly morphed into a groan, and Rio tossed her head back into the pillows, unable to watch and process the feelings at the same time. 

Agatha just laughed. “You’re not gonna last long,” she teased, tone bordering on desperate as she lifted her hips and sank back down. “This is so embarrassing for you… falling apart the second you’re inside of me…” She moaned then, grinding against Rio with a certain insistence that hit Rio’s clit perfectly. “Aw, honey, that feel good? Should I do it again?” 

Rio turned her head into the pillow beneath her and moaned loudly, her hands twitching where they sat on the fronts of Agatha’s thighs. The coil of pleasure in her stomach had never been wound this tight, and the weight of Agatha’s body effectively immobilizing her only exacerbated it, tightening it more and more with each passing second. She was at her complete mercy, her head full of only Agatha and the euphoria she brought, and she was already on the brink. 

Agatha scoffed, and then Rio felt her strong fingers grab her face. They squeezed at her cheeks and turned her head, pulling her from the soft reprieve of the pillows until she opened her eyes and found she was face-to-face with Agatha’s condescending smirk. Her hips had stilled, and tears welled in Rio’s eyes as her throbbing need swelled, her thighs quivering with the sheer effort of keeping still under her lover.

“I asked you a question,” Agatha sneered. “Should I keep going?” 

Rio nodded as best she could with Agatha’s hand still glued to her face, hoping to get away without needing to find the words, but her efforts were futile. Agatha laughed, taunting and dark, and she leaned in closer to Rio’s ear. 

“Use your words, mi amor,” she purred, voice dripping with honeyed sweetness despite her clear dissatisfaction with Rio’s response. “Tell me how badly you want me to keep fucking myself on your pathetic cock and maybe I’ll do it.” Her tone didn’t match the words coming from her mouth, the thinly veiled threat of denial and disappointment that, rationally, Rio knew wouldn’t pan out, but terrified her nonetheless. “C’mon Rio, you can do it.” 

She was truly ridiculing her now, coaxing Rio deeper into the headspace that had gotten her into this situation in the first place. “Agatha, I-” Rio cut herself off with a moan as Agatha’s tongue darted out to lick the shell of her ear. “Shit, I, god, Agatha, I need it.” 

Agatha hummed and removed her hand from Rio’s face, letting it drag down her neck instead. “That’s it. Beg me for my cunt.” 

A groan ripped from Rio’s throat, her desperation bubbling up from low in her stomach. Each of Agatha’s words was making her throb, her empty and weeping cunt crying out to be filled against the need for Agatha around the phallus that didn’t even belong to her. The conflict was intoxicating, so terribly arousing and so, so confusing. All she knew was that she needed more of Agatha, needed her to sate the insatiable greed she felt radiating from between her thighs. 

“Please, Agatha,” Rio breathed, not bothering to speak clearly with Agatha so close. 

She was kissing the underside of Rio’s jaw now, and she nodded. “That’s it,” she praised, her hips finally beginning to lower. “More.” 

Another moan escaped Rio’s open mouth as she felt the velvet walls of Agatha’s pussy inviting her back in, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her at once. “Agatha, please, I need to be inside of you,” she whined. “Please, you feel so fucking good, Agatha, I’m, fuck-” 

Agatha grinded down then, her hips rocking over Rio’s, and it felt so good Rio could practically taste her incoming release on her tongue. Her face was numb, every muscle in her body somehow tense and liquefied all at once, and it was all Agatha’s fault. 

“I need-”

“Shh, you’ll come with me,” Agatha cooed, accenting her words with a particularly firm drag of her cunt down Rio’s cock. “Don’t be greedy, now, not when you’re getting just what you asked for.” 

Rio wasn’t a stranger to Agatha’s tells, to the flutter of her walls or the arch of her lower back that betrayed her carefully levelled facade, but the allure of them was so much richer when she could feel each one from the inside. It wasn’t just her fingertips that pressed into Agatha, that hit the soft spot inside her with insistence, it was something else entirely, a feeling that Rio couldn’t name nor pinpoint. It spread through her like wildfire, a need to feel more, burning her up from somewhere deep in her gut. 

Somehow, by some impossibility, Rio felt each of Agatha’s movements in her own pussy, both inside her and outside on the dildo Agatha had enchanted. It confounded her deeply, not an ounce of rational explanation coming to her to articulate the specific sensation, but god did it feel good. 

Agatha pressed her face into Rio’s neck then, her hips stuttering, and she moaned. The sound vibrated in Rio’s ear, shaking up the fog of her arousal just enough for her to form a single coherent thought. She lifted her hands from the fronts of Agatha’s legs and wrapped them around to behind her ass, squeezing the flesh firmly as she spoke right into her hair. 

“You gonna come, baby?” 

Agatha scoffed, obviously annoyed by Rio’s sudden composure. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” 

Rio wanted to bite back, an already half-baked quip forming in her mind at once, but it was no use–Agatha bit down on her neck and picked up her pace, and Rio was gone. Somehow, by some freak of nature, she felt her release both inside her and in the dildo, in the inanimate cock that Agatha had strapped to her. It was insanely overwhelming, the feeling so much more rife both from the novelty and added sensations, and she was sure she was going blind from the pleasure. 

Every muscle in Rio’s body quivered with the sheer force of her orgasm, like every ounce of tension was being milked from her body as Agatha rode out her own climax on top of her. Being inside Agatha this way, feeling her come right around her, feeling all of her flutter and clench around her was inexplicable, deeply affecting, so blissful she could feel the synapses in her brain all firing at once as if to capture the moment. 

She was sure it would never ever feel this good again, no matter what either of them did, the novelty a fleeting additive to the experience, and so Rio soaked it all in, letting Agatha overstimulate her in an attempt to drag more out of both of them. Only when the sound of her rushing blood in her ears subsided could Rio hear just how much noise she was making–each breath was a gasp, each exhale a moan. It was pathetic, the sounds so desperate and affected, but she couldn’t bring herself to care as Agatha slowed her pace, her face pressed even tighter into Rio’s neck as her body relaxed. 

“Fuck,” Agatha groaned. 

Rio chuckled, still gasping for air. “Yeah.” 

Agatha rolled off of her then, landing flat on her back next to her. “That was…”

Rio turned her head to look at Agatha and found the end of her unfinished statement. She looked thoroughly fucked out–her entire body shining with sweat, one of her bra straps fallen off her shoulder–, and she was gorgeous. Her hair was all in her face, messy and clinging to the skin with sweat, and her cheeks were bright-red, and all Rio wanted to do was devour her. 

Agatha smiled, chest still heaving from exertion. “Let me know when you’re ready to go again,” she laughed and glanced down at the dildo still strapped to Rio’s hips. “Because I need a turn with that.” 

Rio groaned, rolling over and away in a half-joking refusal. “Come find me in a week.”

“Yeah, right,” Agatha scoffed. She grabbed onto Rio’s shoulder and rolled her back over. “You know you want to.” 

“Maybe.” Mid-eye roll, Rio found herself cut off by a firm press of Agatha’s lips to hers. “Okay, yeah.” 

Agatha kissed her again. “That’s what I thought,” she teased, words clumsy between kisses. 

Rio felt Agatha’s fingers toying at the straps of the harness, and she reached down to help her. “If you’re ready for your turn then I won’t say no.” 

“That’s what I was hoping you’d say.”

[bambi-slxt]

🤍𝐒𝐨 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜🤍

𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕨 𝕤𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕠𝕝𝕠 𝕩 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

word count: <1k

genres: uh. smut and romance?

warnings: you know why you're here

notes from bambi: pls enjoy! big smoochies for all of u

"C-c-can't...c-can't go again!" you gasped aloud, thighs crying down from yet another high.

Matt's eyes shone a particularly maniacal shade of blue, like they often did when he got like this - hungry and goal-oriented. "Gonna have to go again 'least once, mama," he said quietly, kissing his fake apologies into your skin. He wasn't sorry at all, the bastard. "y'know y'can't keep from creamin' on my dick."

Your stomach, despite all your complaints, curled into knots yet again as the promise of a good fucking, and the muscles in your pelvis clenched as well. Matt's fingers relished the feeling, and a smirk drug itself onto his face. "Y'like when I talk like that?"

"Yeah..." you whispered, eyes closed, hips trying to roll closer to his painfully stiff fingers.

Matt beckoned you closer with a slow flex of his index and middle finger, your spongy walls gripping around him as though he might leave any moment. He rose to his knees between your legs on the bed. "Y'like when 'm nice to ya 'n let ya cum over 'n over 'n over again?"

Brows furrowed, mewling pitifully, you nodded. "Yes, Matty, fuck..."

He slipped his shorts off with just one hand. His cock strained through his boxers, and you wanted nothing more than to liberate it, you little freak.

Your hands found the black elastic waistband and tugged sloppily, pawing at your boyfriend, trying desperately to be of some use - but then he pressed his thumb on your clit while he continued to pump those fingers in and out, and, well...you're just a girl after all, and he got a lot more sleep than you did.

Matt pulled down his own underwear, with little help from you, though your effort was indeed valiant. "Hey pretty girllll," he crooned, leaning over your body and using his free hand to stroke the hair from your face. "You doin' okay?"

"Matt please fuck me," you whined, fixing him with your most lethal puppy dog eyes.

"Fuck," he breathed, "Yes ma'am."

In one swift motion, he pulled his fingers from your cunt, and buried his cock to the hilt inside your body. Immediately, your walls contracted around him, and you felt so wonderfully stuffed. As he thrust into you, your little cries of, "ah-ah-ah-ah!" drifted like music to his ears. Matt's eyes practically rolled to the back of his head with pleasure at the sound, and he pressed an open palm on your stomach and kept going.

He knew he was close, Matt had never taken long to cum - this used to bother him when he was younger, but now he found it was actually quite a blessing. He could go to town on you until the sun came up and you would be so worked up by that point that more often than not, you'd come together. The beauty of nature, he mused, snapping his hips into yours, encasing your face between either arm that braced him on the bed. "You're mine," he grunted, his breath coming hitched and driven now, the side of his nose pressed hard against yours.

“Mm-hm,” you squeaked, bliss furrowing out in ribbony lines from your tummy to the rest of your body. “Your’s.”

“Mmfuck.” snap “Fuckin’ love-” snap “when you-” snap “say that shit-” snap “to me.” snap…pressssss……

Matt’s hands pulled your shoulders down onto him and your fingertips clawed at his skin. More, more, more, closer, closer, wanna be inside their skin….

“Matty, Matty, fuck!-”

“I know, baby,” he groaned, “I know…” He continued to thrust into you, his own sinful panting echoing clear as a bell in your ear. “Cum for me, pretty girl. I know you can…cum for me.”

The cord in your pelvis popped and your orgasm washed over you in waves. Matt’s overtook him instantly, and he buried his lips in your neck as his cock pumped three, four, five times inside of your shivering, twitching, now-thouroughly-creampied’ kitty. 

His nose flicked your earlobe and Matt got to work on his post-fuck ritual of kissing your entire face until you laughed. Somehow he never got very far before the game mysteriously ended.

Tonight he got as far as your nose. With a disgustingly wet smooch that nearly missed you, you couldn’t help but giggle at his antics and reached a hand up to his hair. “You’re so good to me, sweet boy.”

Matt smiled, pressing a soft, sugar-sweetened kiss to your forehead. “Don’t tell anybody. I have a reputation, ya’know.”

“You’re so funny. You feel okay?”

He nodded. “Wasn’t too rough with you, was I?”

You smiled as his hands carded your hair, thinking of everything he’d done in the past two hours. “You were incredible actually. Ten out of ten, no notes.”

“Do I get a sticker?”

“...If…if you want one? I suppose?”

He yanked his fist back toward his side and hissed his approval.

“You’re so weird, baby.”

“Thank you. It’s so no one else finds me attractive, that way you’re the only woman I talk to.”

You sighed contentedly, falling back against his warm chest and reaching for the remote. “That’s so romantic.”

notes from bambi: if anything in this work upset you, or my writing style is not your preference, etc, feel free to block and move along. everyone here writes what they want to write <3 ty for reading!!

[romeosharpae]

“SAVE YOUR TEARS”

theodore nott x reader

content warning : extremely toxic relationship, cursing, public sex, mature language, explicit adult content, rough sex?, degrading, theodore nott x female reader, oral (f receiving), toxic! theodore nott.

parts : 1,2,

You're sure that if you were to ask anyone with common sense what they thought about you and Theodore Nott's relationship, they'd say it should be against Wizarding law.

"I don't want to talk!" You reprimanded, folding your arms over your chest with a huff. Theodore Nott simply rolled his dead-like blue eyes at your enraged lie.

Looking up at him, you could've sworn a twisted smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "C'mon baby, you're hurting my feelings." He mocked your soft voice.

"You don't have feelings." You mumbled, frustration growing in your voice. Theodore lowly chuckled, leaning his face down to kiss you but you turn away. "Get off of me, Nott, I need to go to Transfiguration."

Theo wrapped a veiny hand around your forearm when you tried to push past him, pulling you back to the stone wall. This time Theodore placed both his hands aside your head, trapping you between him and the wall. From the look on his pale face, you could tell that he knew you were still upset.

But how could you not be?

"Go back to wherever you were last--" Theodore scoffed loudly, drowning out the seething words leaving your lips.

"Are you kidding me?" He snapped. Even though you hated when he used that tone towards you, you weren't to back down. No, you were not about to apologize to Theodore and end up on your knees seconds later just to stop his yelling this time around.

"Funny. Those are the same exact words I repeated last night as I waited around thirty minutes for you." You shot back.  "You know, Theodore.. I really do hate y--"

"Watch your mouth." He warned.

"What's her name, huh?" You continued. Theodore's jaw clenched from anger. He can handle every insult you threw his way, but Theodore really hated when you accused him of being with someone else. "Is it Greengrass? She didn't learn from the last time I dragged her by her root--?!"

You recalled the last time one of Theodore's hook-ups confronted you, and the amount of Slytherin's it took to get you off of her. As previously said before, you were a sweet girl, but the side of you that Theodore brought out, wasn't as friendly or sweet..

"Shut up, you're not even that type of girl." Oddly enough, Theodore was right, you were not the type of a girl to threaten to physically hurt someone, especially over him. The more you thought about it, the more stupider that you sounded by saying that.

You were so stupid.

Had you not been stupid you wouldn't be in this predicament with the emotionless Slytherin brunette. You would've ran for this hills the moment he made it clear your relationship was just a friend-with-benefits dynamic, knowing you wanted more. Theodore knew you were stupid, so vulnerable, and he took advantage of that.

And that made your eyes began to well with tears, eyesight becoming blurred. Before you could even get the chance to control yourself, you began sobbing loudly. How could it even be possibly to hate someone yet love them as much as you do Theodore Nott?

Lucky for your image, everyone else was in class, or you would've looked like a complete maniac to the bystanders.

"Fuck..." Theodore deeply exhaled. The sobbing only became louder as he wrapped his arms around your figure, the heat from his body which was usually comforting seeming insufferable. "What's wrong..? What did I do?"

"Everything!"

You pushed yourself away from him, completely catching your lover off guard. During the years that you've known each other, never have you pushed him away. Even if he was the reasoning behind your distress, you still allowed him to comfort you.

"My best friend hates me!" You cried out, sadness easily detected in your tone. "She won't even talk to me!"

"Why would she hate you?"

Hate was complete exaggeration and you definitely knew that. Hermione Granger actually doesn't hate you. But you don't doubt for a moment she was extremely upset and disappointed with you; You, and everybody else could see the anger on her face when Theodore walked with you, hand-in-hand, inside the Great hall the morning following your rekindling at the Black lake.

"Umm, because I keep putting myself in the same unhealthy situation with you--" You said the obvious and your voice cracks.

Unhealthy situation (toxic).

Despite you being upset in the moment, you knew to avoid having Theodore's patience with you snapping, you shouldn't call it that.

He hated when you or outsiders would name your relationship that.. He claimed that although it had its flaws-way more than the common couple, it wasn't toxic.

But it was!

"Merlin." Theodore hissed, irritated. "Why does it matter what she thinks, Y/N?" Theo's continued rambles make you frown. "Granger and Weasley can not even admit they like each other--Why would she even care?"

"Because she's my friend!"

You could tell he wished she wasn't..

"Friends care about each other, Theodore. Unlike you and yours, me and Hermione are not just friends because it makes us look good." You started hypocritically, and a small frown spreads on the brunette's lips. "So of course she's not going to want me to be with someone who treats me like.. crap!"

You were telling the actual truth. The little patience that he had for you during your outburst has fully vanished as he grabbed the back of your neck, harshly forcing you to look into his dark blue eyes. "Don't say that, Y/N."And you could see the anger rising in his face although he had no right to be mad,

Hermione would tell you that the worse part about you and Theodore's situation was that you knew he disregarded your emotions yet you still went back. It ashamed you how Theodore had you wrapped around his finger. And you fully knew that a toxic relationship was bad enough, but it was even worse if both parties knew the reality of it.

And perhaps that's what led you sob even louder in the moment. Or why you wrapped your arms around Theodore, letting your emotions off into his chest. The brunette's hands slides up from your neck into the back of your head, rubbing you in comfort.

"Aren't the two of you suppose to be in class right now?" Flinch, who guarded the corridors questioned nastily.

If looks could kill, Flinch would be unresponsive on the ground from the way that Theodore turns to glare at him. You pulled away from him, despite the protest your body was giving you, and wiped your tears. There's Concern is written over the squibs face as he watched pull yourself together.

Your attempt to walk away and to Transfiguration fails against when Theodore repeated his earlier action by pulling you back to him. "Stop crying." Theodore's large hands cups your face, bringing you to meet him in a gentle yet powerful kiss.

Merlin, you really hated Theodore, just everything about him. But unfortunately for your sanity, you found yourself loving those same things undefinably.

Did Theodore Nott love you?

You found it sad that you knew the complicated answer to that overly question.  Yet here you were standing, knuckles practically forced between your lips, one leg pressed into the wooden bookshelf as Theodore ate you out like a starved man.

His tongue was roughly swirling against on your clitoris, annually sucking up the juices he earned from you. Your heart was beating rapidly, chest heaving up and down. And you didn't know weather this adrenaline rush was from the pleasure you were feeling or because you were in the schools library.. Or because on the other side of the bookcase was Harry Potter and Hermione Granger.

A person who Theodore had just wrongly accused you of flirting with and wanting to fuck, and the other who probably wishes upon a well that you'd leave him alone. Clearly, the brunettes motives behind wanting to take you right here were clear. And had he not preformed a silencing charm on the two of you, your sure they would've heard your whining and his sucking, slurping, and curses. But a silencing charm wouldn't have stopped someone, anyone, from walking by and seeing the two of you in this obscene state, and that makes you throb, lowly moaning.

"Theo--" You sob.

Theodore growled against your wet flesh, bringing your body closer to him by the hand that he had on your waist. "You want more?"

Despite it being so sick, you nod.

And you knew the sickness behind this situation was what caused that large smile to smile across his full pink lips. He pushed your leg further back into the bookshelf, allowing himself more access before burying his face in-between your thighs once again.

You were absolutely terrified of what would happen had somebody saw you like this, vaginal area on display as the same boy you'd just been fighting with in the courtyard made a embarrassing mess out of you, the rumors that would be spread about you would tarnish your reputation for sure.

You squeeze your eyes shut, butting down further on your knuckles as you roll yourself against his pleasuring tongue.

You could feel your release approaching, probably only one tongue swipe away from getting it out of you. But Theodore ripped his mouth away from you, like you did not deserve your release, and it's gone with the wind. He was such a tease, and you really hated that. Theodore slapped your hand away when you tried to pull his head back between your thighs. Theodore stands to his feet, towering over your height like a tree as usual, and you watched as his fingers frantically went to unbuckle his belt. The desperation clear, the burning fire, behind his eyes as he started at you lets you know that Theodore Nott was seriously about to fuck you until were completely incoherent.

Harshly, Theodore manhandled you around until your back was facing him. Now, your chest was pushed up against the cold bookshelf and due to a few missing books, you could currently see both Hermione and Harry sitting down at a table, studying. Had one of them looked up and stared in your direction, your sure they'd see your face. This makes you hiss out, wanting to look away but Theodore roughly grabbed your jaw, keeping you in place before you could even get the chance.

"Hold it," He breathed out, and without a second thought you scrunched up the plaid school skirt you wore in your hands. Your breath hiked, "'He's no good for you, Y/L/N'" Theodore gritted in your ear, mocking your best friend. Before you could defend her honor, you felt him buried deep inside of you.

"Why don't you fuck my other best friend instead?" Your body knocked into the bookshelf at every hard thrust he gave you. From the way Theodore had you stretched around him your jaw drops, a strangled moan escaping from it loudly. "But you'd like that wouldn't you? He's what you want?"

You would admit that Harry Potter was an attractive boy. He was nice to you, always offered to help you with things, or walk you back to your house after class. And to say that you never thought he liked you would be a lie. But why would you want anything to do with Harry when you had Theodore?

Your eyes squeezed shut. At your lack of response to his question, Theodore pounds into you painfully harder, no doubt realizing that you are actually thinking about the question. "But I'm what you need, Y/N. He can't ever do the things that I do to you, remember that." You whine like a neglected infant at that, for more perhaps?

You stand up on you are tipped toes, attempting to brush an little bit of the pleasuring pain you were feeling but Theodore wasn't going for it. He wrapped his hand around your throat, forcing your back to his chest, whispering harshly in your ear, "Stop running, Take it."

Your pull your lower lip between teeth, attempting to stop yourself from screaming as you finally came undone. Tears began to fall from your glistening eyes, landing on the white button up blouse that were wearing.

Theodore ruts himself into you even harder, holding you in place by your throat to get himself off and nearly cutting off your airway. Although you didn't entirely mind.

As previously said, you enjoyed everything Theodore Nott had to offer you, even the not exactly mentally sane stuff. Theodore finally pulled himself out of you, and you were that he was about to finish. That was until he spun your around to face him, placed his hands underneath your kneecap, and hauled you up. Without even having to be asked,  you wrapped your legs around his waist.

You also took Theodore's lips into yours without having to be asked. Your trembling hands catered his face, tongue sliding over his in an extremely sloppy manner.

But the kiss was disconnected, your teeth baring with a hiss when he slips back in you. Theodore was pace was different this position, a lot more slower and deep, almost meaningful. "You think he'll still like you if he saw us?" He challenged, panting heavily.

"You wouldn't even care, would you?" He chuckled, giving you a smile that displays all his pretty pearly white teeth. "Because I'm all you need, right?"

You nodded your head, agreeing.

"Merlin Nott, you're such asshole!"

You had not even realized that you were crying.. not until you felt Pansy Parkinson hands brush against your cheeks. Her other hand was on your back, attempting to soothe you but it was failing to work.

Theodore looked at you with dead eyes. Yet even then you could see the amusement behind them, almost taunting you. And that made you that much angrier. You picked up an object from the table, launching at the brunette. "I...I hate you! S-So much!"

Theodore dodged it, the same way he does every time you tried throwing something at him while arguing. "Crazy little bi--"

Crazy?

Truthfully, you were in disbelief at the word that just escaped Theo's mouth. How dare he have the nerve to say you were behaving crazy? How dare he? Not when Theodore just basically called you clingy and told you to fuck off in front of his friends.

The embarrassment hurt just as bad as any other time he denied your relationship in and out closed doors. How could he just call things off whenever he felt like it? And you realize that you gave him that confidence by crawling back each time he did.

You're the reason that Theodore felt so comfortable treating you like something off the bottom of his shoe whenever he felt like it. And who was to say that that would change if there was a label on your situation?

"Why do you keep doing this to me?!" You spoke to him and his jaw clenched. "Merlin What did I do to deserve this?" You cried more to yourself this time.

Ever since you welcomed Theodore back in your life at the Black Lake, you have found your self crying so much more. Why did you have to love someone so nonchalant? So evil Why couldn't you love someone like Harry.. or even Draco Malfoy would be better.

Anything was better than someone that was selfish like Theodore Nott. You have dug yourself into this to insane misalliance because you have allowed him to be so selfish with your love that he didn't even deserve.

“Y--You don’t even deserve me...” You admitted said to him, sniffling. “So hey Nott, fuck you.” You wanted to launch something else at Theodore, shout, cry some more but that was the reaction that he wants from you. “Fuck you, Theodore Nott!” His jaw clenched at those words, expression twisting.

He wanted to see you insane at his hands, break yourself until you had other choice but to come to him comfort.

You snatched yourself out of Pasny’s grip, Theodore wore an expression that you couldn’t quite read because it’s so unfamiliar. Regret? Confusion? You couldn’t tell.

And for that you could not contain yourself from throwing a pillow at him. “You will never find someone better than me!”

You both knew that.

Then you breathlessly laughed, “And that’s disappointing because you’ll never ever have me again, Theodore Nott.”

Part four >>>

[xoxopuffsz]

ok this is p specific but i love ur smut and i would like to request a fic where azul is in a relationship w yuu, and during his mating season he sneaks them off to a classroom for a quickie, but idia is watching it through the cameras and jerking off 🙏🙏🙏🙏 PRETTY PLEASE

AN: when I read this I had to stop for a moment and think but I mean YOU SAID PRETTY PLEASE SO SURE 😓 — MINORS DNI, all chars are aged up, f!y/n and well creepy Idia, Azul being an absolute crazed maniac, enjoy!

❤︎ — “Can you hear me? Can you see me?”

Although most people would’ve relatively catched on in the frantic Azul, his urges were something he usually was able to hide pretty well, and of course, who said that at the end of the day his pretty girlfriend wasn’t going to.. help him?

As you carried a dirty tray to the garbage, a small kiss is pressed on your cheek by an alone Azul, who had wondered off when his two eel companions weren’t looking. “My dear, can you.. come with me for a second?” He mumbles in your ear, the single breath of his voice sending shivers down your spine.

it’s not until he locks you in the nearby classroom that he realizes what’s going on, his lips finding yours frantically as his hands unbuckle your belt, practically ripping them off.

“Fuck me,” he whispers “I’m sorry. ‘m sorry I’m being so vulgar my dear but I’m begging you I need some type of release.” He mumbles, kisses making the heat pool in-between your legs as he quickly takes them off.

Although, it’s seemed maybe Azul wasn’t the only one enjoying the experience.

Idia had made a habit of checking and placing cameras all over the school, for his own pleasure of course, to either keep intel of people or maybe see them goof around when his games are getting updated,

But seeing the only girl in NRC getting rammed by her boyfriend, and club mate of his? Now that was gold.

His first impression? Maybe get off the cameras for a while and check if there was anything better to do, but yet he couldn’t help notice the sounds emitting into the cameras speakers, the moans coming from both you and his dear friend Azul, and the way he quickly discarded of his belt to be able to push in his member into your underwear, a quickie, it seemed.

Idia was.. well, turned on to say the least, and no one usually came into his room, so the best thing that came to his mind was to get off of the person he usually got along with and the pretty girl he’d watch from a distance, slender and pale fingers touching his own member to get off, and of course, once the shame sits in his pink hair emitting a pretty light as he lets out a groan, his hoodie covering his own mouth, as he watches you and Azul.

Oh and as for you two, sevens was it good. Azul was always against things like this, he felt is was ‘unprofessional’ and ‘unsanitary’ but oh did it feel good. His hips pressing onto you as the cloth of your pantries rubbed against him, and the way his tip pressed against your sensitive clit, his lips felt so.. so good against yours.

His hands gripped your thighs, tongue tied against yours, and he had the audacity to moan into your mouth, small “s’good” and “need more”s being heard as he finally came into your stomach.

As for the one watching you two, his hand slowly dragged down his tip and girth, pathetic whimpers escaping his mouth as he watched the both of you move, moans entering his ears from his headphones, the delicacy and richness of the audio giving him the impulse to finally cum, getting on his pants.

Until he listens to Azul say,

“You ever feel like we’re being watched?”

— ❤︎ AN: I hope you like it chat it took me like an hour and also my head is killing me 🙁

[bahablastplz]

Resident Advisor: Changbin x Reader

Changbin is your R.A. and also your friend that you’ve been in the talking stage with for weeks. When he has to do room checks and he finds alcohol in your dorm, you tell him you’ll do anything for him not to snitch on you. 

content: smut, fluff, angst (reader is distressed) warnings: mention of bugs, college AU, kissing, oral (f! and m! receiving), alcohol, changbin has a huge coke can cock WC: 2700 A/N: happy birthday Changbin! I know it's a week late but I think he would find it in his heart to forgive me. also slightly ironic i was wine-drunk when i wrote this <3

Seo Changbin is beautiful. 

This, of course, has been an undeniable fact of life that you have been aware of since the first day of your sophomore year, your second year in college when you moved into your dorm room. 

The earth tilted on its axis when Changbin, your resident advisor, peeked his head into your room and introduced himself to you. He was a junior, a year above you, but as previously mentioned, a beautiful man with broad set shoulders and hair a color that fell between some shade of blue and purple. Your first thought when the R.A. had introduced himself to you was ‘damn, I need to spend more time with this man and get him to fall in love with me.’ But the glorious thing about him being your resident advisor was that he a.) lived in your dorm building on your floor, and b.) you had a free pass to bother him whenever you so pleased. 

And you did, shamelessly. Anytime you found any sort of reason to complain or bother Changbin, you could just knock on his door or even shoot him a text, as he had shared his number with every resident on your floor. And while anybody else might have been annoyed by the constant pestering, Changbin always seemed happy to help, no matter how small the issue. If there was a leak in your bathroom, you couldn’t remember the number to reach out to maintenance, or your neighbors were too loud, you were likely bothering him about it, to which he would greet you with a smile every time. 

One night in particular there was a cockroach in your room. The dorm building was a million years old and crustier than what was likely allowed by safety regulations, but you definitely had no qualms about bothering Changbin for this. 

“Queencard, I’m the top, I’m twerkin’ on the runway, I am a queencard you wanna be the queencard!” You heard from behind his closed doors the sounds of a fast and catchy girl group song, Changbin’s voice loud as he sang along with the lyrics. It made you pause a moment and giggle, knowing if he weren’t the R.A. he definitely would have received some noise complaints himself. 

Raising your hand you knocked on his door and the music came to a halt, Changbin opening the door while slightly out of breath. You realized that he must have been practicing the choreography or something, which made you grin a bit more before you remembered the situation at hand. 

“Y/N!” he smiled. “What can I help you with?”

“Changbin, hi,” you said to him, slightly teary-eyed. “Roach. There’s a roach in my room. I’m just– can you help?” 

He blinked at you for a moment, grabbing his keys and phone immediately before wordlessly ushering you out the door. He knew his way to your room already–as previously mentioned, this was not the first time you’ve bothered him–and he’s the one that bravely opened your door, grabbing one of your shoes from your shoe rack and holding it as if it were a weapon. 

Needless to say, that night ended in girly shrieks from the both of you, maniacal thumping and stomping that likely irritated your downstairs neighbors, and, thankfully, a dead roach. He was just as disturbed by the situation as you were, and you couldn’t help the fit of giggles once the bug was dead that escaped from your lips. He was just so dramatic and loud after the fact, recounting how gross and evil the creature was. You must have thanked him at least a million times, but that night you went to sleep with a smile. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

You texted Changbin all the time now, about the most menial of things. At some point, you weren’t sure when the line had crossed from ‘R.A. down the hall’ to ‘someone you text about food hall chicken nuggets and professors that refused to round up your grades,’ but you weren’t complaining. Fast forward to now, soon to be fall break, when you (and you’re entire floor) get an email from Changbin about room checks. 

You recall disregarding the email since you weren’t going home for fall break anyway. You’re staying on campus to get caught up on your assignments after midterms, plus a professor specifically requested your help in their lab over break for extra credit. Who were you to say no to that? You had already filled out the break contract, letting the school know that you were to be staying in your dorm over your break, so you had nothing to even worry about. Or so you thought. 

It’s 6 p.m. on the first day of break. You’re being very studious, just as you had planned (scrolling through tiktok on your phone with your assignments pulled up on your laptop), when you hear a knock at your door. You only slightly jump out of your skin, not expecting anybody else to even be in your dorm hall at this time. You peek through the peephole and let out an excited gasp. 

“Hi, Changbin!” you say excitedly, cracking the door open enough to slide out and greet him in the hall. “What are you still doing here?” 

You should have made the assumption that he’s ‘on duty,’ but you clearly weren’t thinking. Here he stands, wearing a polo that says ‘Resident Advisor’ in your school colors, his name tag adorned on his right side. He also clearly wasn’t expecting to see you, however, eyebrows quirked and a playful expression gleaming in his features. 

“Y/N,” he smiles as he addresses you. “I’m doing room checks, don’t you remember?” 

“Oh, that’s right,” you say, mentally kicking yourself. Of course it was just room checks. Part of you wishes he was just here for you, to spend time over break, but you know that’s a silly notion. He has a job to do, after all. “Well, I’ll be here all break, so you don’t need to check my room. Good luck, though! Hope you don’t find anything too crazy.”

You go to turn and head back into your room when he starts to speak again. “Yah! Doesn’t anybody ever read my emails?” You glance at him sideways, unsure what he’s talking about. “Everyone needs to have their room checked, if they’re staying on campus or not!” 

“What? Seriously?” you stammer. You really should have read that email. “Shit okay, give me like, 10 minutes to clean, okay? I gotta make sure there’s no roaches or anything.” 

You attempt to crack a joke and he does smile, even lets out a little giggle at your words. But when he explains to you that he’s not supposed to give you time to organize your room, just in case you’re hiding anything you’re not supposed to, you blanche. You’re not even really sure what to say as Changbin opens your door and starts his room check, you standing awkwardly behind him. 

You notice your mistake before he does, the large gallon-sized container of vodka on your dresser that you’re definitely not supposed to have. You really can’t even defend yourself there. You subtly shuffle to stand in front of the opposing object, staring down at your phone to feign disinterest. 

“Y/N?” you hear Changbin call. 

“Mhmm?”

“What’s behind you?” Shit. He totally knows. 

“Um. Nothing?” He walks to stand closer to you, a wide but slightly sad smile splayed on his face. 

“Please, please, don’t make me be the bad guy here.” 

“Fine. Can’t you seriously just like, close your eyes for one second? I’ll hide it and you won’t have to do a ridiculously long report, and I won’t tell anybody, please,” you beg. 

“Move, let me see what we’re working with.” With a sigh, you step to the side, revealing the extra large bottle of straight-up hard liquor. 

He picks it up, giving you a side-eye with an exasperated sigh. “Seriously? Why?” he practically whines. “You’re really gonna make me get you in trouble?” 

Fuck. The tears that prick at your eyes threaten to drop out and your face heats up. There seriously can’t be a worse situation that your crush having to write you up and get you into disciplinary trouble, all because you couldn’t be bothered to read a fucking email. 

“Changbin, please, I’ll do anything,” you beg, dropping to your knees in front of him, your hands clasped together. You don’t even look him in the eye. “I can’t afford to get in trouble over this, you don’t understand. What if I lose my scholarship? Fuck, my parents will kill me. I’ll do anything, I really mean it. I’ll never drink again. I’ll pay for your laundry for the year. I’ll even suck your dick–” 

“Woah woah, Y/N, it’s okay, I was just kidding–wait, what?” he freezes, your words finally catching up to him. What he thought was an attempt at teasing you, who had finally started to become his friend, had obviously gone a step too far. 

“You were joking?” you ask, finally getting the courage to look at him. You swipe your arm over your face, using it to wipe away your tears. You look up at him with these innocent doe eyes that go straight to his cock, especially after what you just said to him. 

“Yes, babygirl, I was just kidding. I’m not going to tell on you,” he says, staring down at you, the picture of perfection on your knees beneath him. “About… about what you said, Did you just say that because you were trying not to get in trouble, or… do you actually like me?”

“About sucking your dick?” He almost chokes on the saliva in his mouth. He nods timidly. “I meant it,” you confess. “I’ve liked you for a long time.” 

He blushes, moving forward to run his fingers through your hair. You notice the bulge in his jeans quite literally staring you in the face and you almost can’t believe your luck. You’re really going to get the opportunity to get with Changbin just because of an (almost) accidental confession? 

“You’re sure?” he asks, pushing back his own beautiful, purple-hued hair as he looks at you with lips slightly parted. You nod at him, moving to help him unbutton his jeans and he hisses at the contact of your hands against his clothed cock. “Fuck, baby,” he groans as you push his pants down just past his thighs, mouthing at him through his boxers. “Will you at least let me take you out on a date after this? This is really not the way I thought this would go,” he sighs, but his head is thrown back in pleasure nonetheless. 

“Yes, Binnie, I would really like that.” You notice him grin at your use of the nickname, losing his resolve at your response as he pushes down his boxers and lets you get a good look at his hardened length. He’s huge–you can’t help but blink at him for a moment, his cock just so girthy that you have a hard time wrapping your hand around it fully. His length is definitely longer than average but nothing to blink an eye at once you’ve gotten used to just how much girth he’s got. You do take a moment to appreciate his large, toned thighs, running your hands up and down the muscles before you wrap your lips around his tip. 

You set an almost brutal pace, eager to please him with your mouth as you use your free hands to help you cover what you can’t reach. You think about how much you would kill to take the time to properly worship him, every inch of skin and muscle that he has been working on, but your carnal desire and need for the man standing above you heavily outweighs that. He’s properly enjoying it too, a hand woven through your hair and breathy pants and moans let out at your actions, even something along the lines of praise whenever you suck him just right, and that just fuels your desire to do even better for him. 

You move your hands to cup his balls, heavy and tense with the need to spill, and you can tell he isn’t going to last long. You barely notice his hips as they grind forward into your mouth, meeting you halfway with every movement of your head along his length. When you look up and blink at him through your lashes he explodes, finally spilling into your mouth with a loud groan. You help him through his high, making sure you get every last drop of him before you swallow, smiling sweetly at the man.

He helps you off of the floor then, hoisting you up and off of your knees. You didn’t even notice the pain radiating through them from their spot on the hardwood, far too focused on pleasing the man in front of you. He checks on you though, scanning your body for any insight that you might not be okay before pulling you into a tight hug. You smile against him a moment, pulling away to speak before he crashes his lips hard into yours. It takes you by surprise, not expecting him to still be so eager and filled with desire after you helped him get his release, but the kiss is both full of thanks and an unsaid desire from his part as well. 

“Changbin–” you finally say, pulling away from the kiss in an attempt to catch your breath. 

“You’re stunning,” he tells you, his hands falling onto your hips before gazing intensely, almost scrutinizingly at your body in a way that would make you self-conscious if it were any man besides Changbin. “I was really hoping you liked me too. I don’t text every girl on this floor, you know. Just you. I’ll only kill roaches for you, do it all for you. Can I? Make you feel good too?” He asks, still somehow out of breath and full of lust at the sight of you. 

“You want to?” The words are barely out of your mouth before Changbin lifts you up effortlessly. You want to be surprised by this fact but you feel like that would be an insult to him, to his biceps that flex and bulge at the action, his muscles that he’s been working on very hard for this exact moment. Your legs wrap around his waist and he lays you against your bed, grabbing a pillow so that he’s now on his knees at the edge of your bed. 

He wastes no time slipping your shorts and panties off in one swift motion, taking the time to properly admire your glistening core. You want to be shy but you can’t, not before he’s eagerly diving in and lapping at your pussy like it’s his final meal. You both let out a moan and some string of words that sounds like, ‘oh my god,’ and he’s taking care of you with the same vigor and innate desire that you showed him just moments ago. 

He works you up quite quickly, his hands roaming all over your body in appreciation as his tongue flicks against your clit. Your hands occasionally fist at his hair and he takes a moment to stare at you with dark and hazy eyes before continuing his ministrations. When you get close to your release and your hips start to buck up he holds you down so effortlessly that it’s hot. You barely realize the way that he stares at your face once you reach your release, cumming all over his face as he laps at your core. He pays attention to every expression, every furrowed brow and sound you make, and he knows just when to stop before the stimulation becomes painful. 

Sitting up in bed to stare at him, you watch as he licks his lips, savoring your taste. He pulls you in for one final kiss and you can even taste the way your flavors combine, moaning into his mouth at the sweet and simple action. He helps you to pull your pants back up and even crawls into your bed for a few moments, stroking your hair as you lay upon his chest. Neither of you speak for a moment, relishing in the post-orgasmic bliss. 

He laughs. “Really? Tito’s? Is that worth getting into trouble over?” 

You smack his chest playfully. Something along the lines of “Shush,” is all you can come up with. 

“So, about that date?” 

You might be in love with Seo Changbin. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

[kaivenom]

Spider had a girlfriend who moved away (the reader) spider became more cold towards everyone, one day during school the reader shows up telling him she moved back and everyone gets to see the real spider ( gentle and sweet) the reader and spider end up getting back together and everyone is shocked

Smile again

Summary: you moved away years ago, while starting high school, but know after so much plead to your parents, they let you finish the year on your hometown, which revolt things on Hartley's.

Pariring: Spencer "Spider" White x reader

Warnings: a little bit of angst, mostly fluff

A/N: sorry for the waiting, now that exams are finally over (i hope) i could finally finish this, i hope the person that requested it likes it.

Masterlist

You were excited to come back to your home, seeing your old friends and especially your ex-boyfriend Spider. When you left, neither of you had a choice, you were much younger and couldn't make decisions right. Plus, being so young means that your relationship wasn't entiretly serious, but that doesn't mean your liking for him got smaller. Another plus, neither of you had a phone so you couldn't track each other.

You don't know what to expect, he would still like you?, he would want to try a relationship with you again?, what if he already has a girlfriend?

All that questions blurred your mind while you go to the high school, while you signed the papers of your registration and while you crossed the courtyard. The only thing that was able to snap you back into reality was the ring of the bell and all the students getting out of class.

You heard your name being called by several people, you were thankful they recognized you and seemed so happy to see you. Everyone started to hug you, it's incredible how you only lasted a couple of second in recognizing which person was everyone. They had changed a lot but the still had some features that help you identify them.

But still, you couldn't find the blonde, if he is still blonde, you thought. Suddently you recognized Ant, you yell at him to catch his attention but not only him turned around. Your eyes met a tall blonde boy, his eyes oppened dramatically once he saw you...once he recognized you.

Both of them started walking to you but the blonde went faster and run to you. His arms were big and felt like crushing you but his scent was familiar, he is Spider.

"(Y/N)!!! i can't believe you are back!!" his arms were still around you, his voice sounded excited to see you and that relieved you a little.

"I can't believe it either, i don't konw how you recognize me, we both changed a lot."

With that said, now he let you go, his face is clearly red from the comment and he now looks a little flustered.

"I can't believe you are so big and tall."

"I can believe you are still so tiny... but you look good."

"You do too," now you both are flustered, you needed to change the subject, "How is your life going?"

"Good, well, an idiot made a map and now we are on a extracurricular class named SLTs." you couldn't believe at started laughing like a maniac, inevitably Spider started laughing too, "oh god, i can't believe how much i missed your laugh."

And now you are flustered again, his eyes laid on you with an intensity you couldn't believe was possible. He oppened his mouth like he was about to tell you something but closed it again.

"It was good to get to know you again." you said trying to break the awkward silence.

"You didn't get to know the new me, we only talked to minutes." he said dramatically.

"Well, maybe we have to hang out and get to know each other again after so many years." he took a moment to think what to answer.

"Maybe we can also take things were we... left it." he was nervous that you were going to reject him but you couldn't me more happy.

"Yeah, of course, gladly, yeah.... i should probably shut up." his laugh pleased your ears again.

"Nah, i always liked when you are flustered... but maybe we should move."

His finger pointed to the crowd that has been watching you both all the time, how could you forgot they were there?

"I can't believe it, Spider is a total jerk, how could he suddently..." Darren made a mimic of Spider's laugh.

"I am surprised too, this is good for a study." then Quinny took out a notebook.

"When i can hug (Y/N) too? i am the only one who didn't gave her one."

Ant was clearly sad about the hugh, after all you called for him, not Spider. You gave Ant the hug he wanted and went back to the blonde.

"How about we go now?" he nodded at your suggest.

"You can go were i work and..."

"No," Spider shutted Darren down, "we won't be calm if we go there, right now i want to disappear from here, right?"

His hand moved next to yours, so clearly you accepted it and started running with him. You didn't know were he was taking you, but you were sure it will be amazing with his company.

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

TOWER OF BABEL (VII)

NAVIGATION || RAVISHING ALLURE MASTERLIST || NEXT: CHAPTER VIII

PAIRING: Nikto x F!Reader (Soulmate AU)

WORDCOUNT: 7.4k

WARNINGS: Angst, intense stalking & stalking behavior, talks of death/injury, toxic modeling standards/expectations, dark implications, symptoms & descriptions of dissociation, scar descriptions, etc. (Series 18+)

A/N: This is where some of the more serious/dark aspects come into the story involving Seraph's job and the pressures that are put on her. It's only implied in this chapter, but in the next, it'll be talked about more. Just to let you all know.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

The day after your meeting, your gifted clothes came to the lobby of the penthouse. 

You’d gone down with Nikto and picked up what you could, bags and bags of designer goods including purses, makeup, and jewelry. It was excessive—like Fedorov was trying to buy your silence; buy your affection so you’d cozy up into bed with him. 

This job tried you every day, but that was a line you would never cross. Never.

Still, the items needed to be taken and packed for the trip regardless. Eyes would be on you from the moment this adventure from hell started until it ended in what hopefully was a peaceful fashion. 

But you severely doubted it would be anything close to peaceful. 

You take another gray dress and slip it into the garment cover, legs folded on the floor of your living room as you hum under your breath. Music wafts out from your record player, and you’re desperately trying to focus on the task at hand. Nikto reads from the couch. 

“Have they called you yet?” You ask, not looking up as you slide the cover’s zipper, missing it once as your hand shakes unexpectedly. 

The Russian responds with a slow and even, “Нет. No calls.”

You sigh, licking your lips. 

No one had been telling you what was in that last gift at AMA—not even your mother. Aly had said it was probably nothing when she’d been briefly over to assist with the clothes, on a tight break in her schedule, but you weren’t too sure of that. 

Pale eyes blink slowly, and a page turns. “No use thinking. Pack.”

“You make it sound like it’s that easy,” you huff, body leaning back and spine resting against your various rugs. The penthouse was warmer today, and you wear comfortable loungewear; shorts, and a dark baggy t-shirt. Your head shifts, arms out beside you. “How are you so calm about everything? My heart feels like it’s constantly going to break out of my chest.” 

Your phone goes off on the coffee table, a short buzz that has to be either your mom or Alyona. Rubbing a palm into your right eye, you hear the bear grunt and close whatever he was reading, finding it pointless to try and focus if you continue to speak to him.

He stares for a moment, hidden face a mystery you long to solve. With a tap of his finger on his thigh, he explains.

“Training,” you blink, intrigued. Nikto seems to notice, tilting his head and looking down at you. “You are scared, Woman, yes?”

“Of course.” You had no trouble admitting it. “Anyone would be.”

“In military,” the air of the penthouse moves with the weight of his broken words, the rough bleed of vocals. You really did like his accent—it just added so much to his already intimidating form. Just a stack of bricks being constantly grated against one another. “We were taught how to become used to it—the adrenaline. Fear. In the end, it held little over many; failure was the only fear that never left.” 

Your brows furrow, lips frowning. “You fear failure, Nikto?”

You expected a blunt refusal, quick words. But the man had been softening to you over the time you’d known him—if that was your own doing, or something more, you can’t quite tell anymore. Any talk on soulmates has feld you like a rabbit in a dark wood to shy away from the looming presence of something bigger; parties and scorned maniacs.

You still wonder if ignoring the gifts was the right thing to do. Would that make it worse? You think you’d read about that somewhere. 

A trigger. But the stalker had already pushed one of those, hadn't he? What could he do that was worse than killing three men? Mutilating animals?

Nikto surprises you. 

The man blinks, not looking away from your pleasing eyes—even now, your pupils were small with anxiety; he’d noticed how you adamantly avoided social media and the news, plastered with your pictures and the case. The window had never been opened fully since he’d been here, only a creak of natural light slipping from the crack of the half-risen blinds. 

For a gruff beast of action, his eyes missed nothing.

“Yes,” he grumbles, blinking away for a moment before his attention returns. “But it is…lesser than what you feel. Незначительный. Minor.” 

A small smile flickers your lips, skull to the ground even as it aches slightly. 

“I like it when you speak to me—it helps,” you mumble honestly. It wasn’t flirting, not really. 

The Russian looks slightly confused at your sentence, but that doesn’t stop his shoulders from minutely tightening. You chuckle, shifting your head to the ceiling where your little bits of painted glass hang. 

“Nikto,” you point upwards. “That one—the bird. What color is it?”

This was a game you’d taken a fast liking to. You’d point and ask the color; Nikto would answer. 

“Red,” is his monotone reply after a glance. Eyes from behind his mask shrouded in dark paint. You doubted the face grease could come off anymore, the chemicals already bone deep. 

“I thought it was orange,” you sigh. “I still can’t tell the difference.” 

“Obviously,” is the dryly amused response, with you glaring without venom and putting your hands to the ground to help push you back up. 

“Hey,” you try to hide your teasing smirk. “I’m getting better at it—”

Your voice is strangled off as a sharp inhale, eyes blinking rapidly, and your vision blurs in a moment of ricocheting pain flaring in the base of your skull. Snapping one hand to the back of your head, you strangle down a small scream, reducing it to a whimper of utter agony. 

Neck bending forward, your mouth fills with saliva as your spine pulls in, yet you can’t even focus on that. You feel like if you even have a single thought, your brain will explode out of the back of your head. 

Nikto startles, eyes widening, but he doesn’t waste time on shock. Feet already rush over at the slighted change in the air, a hand grasping the base of your neck tightly, attention snapping into place. Your breath puffs as your frantically moving face tenses and eyelids twitch. Your nerves were on fire. 

The Russian watches, confusion and a certain unease striking him through his pounding heart. What had happened? One second you were speaking and the next your body was so steel-like it shook harder than he’d ever seen it. 

“Seraph,” he barks, face close to your head, looking at the spot you grasp at with your visible knuckles, the sound of your gasping pants leaving his throat echoing with reverberations of unease. 

Nikto pulls at the skin of your wrist, peeling your hand back before you draw blood, trying to assess what to do. He only sees it then.

It’s a rabid-looking thing, the scar. With your hair as such, your fingers stuck in the knots, they’re pulled back just perfectly to see it. Pale blue eyes stare unabashedly, struck dumb for a moment in their concerned sheen.

It spans from the base of your skull upward, a jagged bulge of healed tissue and fissures—the shade of skin is different there, hyperpigmentation just as Nikto had. Halfway up the back, the rough line breaks into two places, creating a ‘Y’ with the one nearest to the right stopping sooner than the other. 

But it was deep. Deadly-like. An indent lives at the middle point.

For someone so in tune with the ways of the body, Nikto was horrified and fascinated at the very implication; how had you…survived this? Your entire skull might have been broken open from the force of whatever had happened, judging by the strength needed to achieve such brutality. Was this the injury that you’d been speaking about? 

An overwhelming emotion takes him by the lungs. 

Your body had scars just like his did.

Form curling even farther forward, your legs pull into you, and Nikto finds that at the moment, none of that even matters. 

“Seraph,” he orders again, equally as urgent but noticed less sharp. His thumb curls your wrist to trap itself at your pounding pulse; running as if being chased by whatever nightmares he hears you whine from in your sleep.

You swallow down your bile with a clicking of your throat and a small cough, eyes stinging. 

“Burns,” your lips whisper, lids closing firmly. “God, my head burns.” 

It’s a brief thought—a small moment of slip-second thinking that had saved his life many times. 

A chilled palm spreads itself over the back of your head, directly over the broken fracture of flesh, without an utterance of a word. The effects aren’t immediate; you don’t just calm down and stop panicking. But it helps. Like a light in the dark, it helps. 

After a minute, the chill seeps into your bones. It goes deeper and deeper, the large grip of Nikto’s fingers stuck into your hair perhaps a little harder than they needed to be, but you weren’t about to complain at the pressure. After two minutes, your panting slows to a small ragged wheeze—feeling like a sick duck as your beady eyes finally open. You see the unblinking pale orbs directly to your right almost immediately after the abyssal dots go back to wherever it was they came from. 

He doesn’t speak; you didn’t expect him to. Nikto was arrogant, prideful, but he never spoke unless he knew he had something he needed to say. A blunt hound who never hesitated to bark, but only when he could see something was up in the tree. 

When you’ve seemed to calm down, the hand on your wrist leaves with a brush of rough gloves to the skin, making you shiver. You notice the hastily tossed material of the matching product, belonging to the other limb, near your knee. 

Cold fingers. Cold hands. A corpse would be jealous, but you’d never felt so thankful. 

Nikto studies your face rapidly, and your raspy voice levels out a meek, “Sorry.”

Barely visible brows furrow tightly, almost disgusted. You perhaps misinterpreted that expression the wrong way, because just as you’re about to rush into a wild explanation as to why, how, and every excuse you can give, you’re once more taken off guard today. 

Bulky arms circle your waist and under your vibrating knees. 

With a sluggish reaction, you blink rapidly as you’re settled against the hard Kevlar of his chest—kept firm in his grip. Your legs hang, hand stabilizing yourself on Nikto’s pec. 

“What did I say?” He asks heavily, looking down at you as your shock bleeds away to focus on how to calm your heart. “Seraph?” Nikto prompts, his fingers digging into your clothes. 

You try to think, stuttering, “You don’t like it when I apologize.”

“So do not,” the Russian grunts, clenching his jaw out of sight. His words are low, and he rolls his shoulders. “That is the end of it.”

He sets you down on the couch, sinking into the multiple plush pillows. You feel weak—limp. Not looking into the man’s eyes, you curl your hands around your waist, leaning back and being careful to not hit your head on the back. 

Nikto watches with hidden concern. 

“Explain,” he utters, not moving an inch from in front of you. It’s a minute or so before you can find the words. All the Russian does in that time is shift his arms over his chest—fix the stance of his feet. You can feel his eyes like a knife, but you can’t feel how his brain is on high alert; vigilant to any pain that may be hidden from him. 

“Happens sometimes,” you whisper, one vibrating hand coming up to lightly run over the back of your skull. You trace the scar softly, feeling the pulse underneath. “It’s just… sensitive.”

Nikto’s eyes narrow. 

After a pause, where it’s obvious you feel some sort of embarrassment judging by your avoiding gaze, the great beast sighs long. A slow blink makes his dark lashes up and down. 

He hated how he despised that look on your face.

Moving, Nikto sits beside you, leaning back with a grunt and extending an arm behind you on the hardwood of the couch’s frame. 

“Tell me. I want to know.” You side-eye him, knees pulled up to your chest. It has a distance to it, your focus. Everything feels like it’s underwater. 

“It’s not a good story,” you force a broken huff, smiling wobbly. Numb eyes don’t waver over the lines of your face. 

“No,” Nikto bluntly says. “I did not expect it to be. Nonetheless…” he trails. “I am asking if you are willing to answer.” 

It wasn’t like you were against saying what had transpired, but there was a lot of history there—so much. The event had happened when you were young, so many years had passed to a point where the mental pain of it had dimmed to all except the consequences. The aftermath. 

This was a give and a take; you consider yourself a fair person. 

“How did you lose part of your finger?” You turn it around, licking your lips and staring at his neck. The man’s body stills at the question. 

Nikto slowly loosens a grumbled scoff. But it isn’t a feral thing. Perhaps he was even impressed that you had the forethought to gain something of his story when you’d already told so much of yours. 

He reminds himself once more, not dumb. 

“Very well,” Nikto’s head tilts like a wolf, his knee hitting the place where your feet hang over the edge of the cushion. He looks you up and down as his finger taps the wood behind your head. “Second year with PMC. Operation in far-off country—we do not care to remember which anymore.” You listen, heart calming with every scrape of vocal cords. Nikto explains slowly, thinking over every word carefully as his vision trails to rest at your nose. “Hostile hiding under floorboards.” The Russian rolls his shoulders. “I was reaching down to grab at the hatch; it confused me because it was partially open.” 

Your body lightly turns his way, the side of your skull meeting the hard build off the inside of his forearm. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath, getting everything under control again one second at a time. As if a book, you turn the pages of Nikto, painting a picture of his tale, oblivious to the way his eyes are stuck on your face. His arm stays completely still for you.

He longs to look at that scar again, and he can’t understand why.

“...Large knife came up through the wood. Cut it off and damaged the others near it. It is numb most days. Barely can tell I still have finger. Very inopportune, but all was not lost.”

“What wasn’t lost?” You hum, sighing, and open your eyes again. The Russian’s gaze darts away. 

“I killed him,” he says numb-like, a vicious smirk in his voice. “In the end, it was only us who could tell the story, yes?”

“Does it hurt?” You change the subject back to his scars, liking how his forearm acted as your pillow. You could feel his tendons as they pulled.

“Sometimes,” Nikto shrugs at your quiet question, thighs over the couch cushions. “Like all the others. Natural.”

He doesn’t need to ask if yours do.

You dwell on what he insinuates about his body—the scars you already thought he’d have; why he wears that mask. 

“I fell,” you share, not letting a long silence linger. Nikto’s feet shuffle on the floor, but otherwise, like a waiting cat, he was completely beholden to your soft voice. “Far. Cracked my head open on a rock.”

There’s so much more to it—but this is the version you always tell everyone. It’s less…complicated. Gets you less looks of pity, even if you’re not sure Nikto is the type to do that. 

The large man hums, nodding. He wants to know more; he’d have to look into it further on his own. “You are lucky to be alive after an injury like that.”

“Yeah,” you whisper, lips twisting. “Lucky.” 

Your skull pulses. 

“But, anyways,” you wave a hand, locking gazes. “Thank you.”

Nikto’s knees crack as he stands, moving away; his heat leaves. Hands situating themselves at the collar of his vest, the Russian’s throat rolls with a noise of acceptance. 

“It is my job. Do you require anything?” 

“I think I’m okay,” you admit, feet delicately moving to the rug on the floor. It’s back to packing, pushing this to the back of your mind just as you do the remembrance of his fingers tight in your hair; tight at your wrist. Nikto’s hard voice in your ear, saying your angelic title. 

Your throat clears itself, blinking, as you stand. 

The man takes it as lightheadedness, one foot moving closer. Your hand raises, and he stops. A small chuckle moves out of your mouth, side-eyeing him with a crinkle to your lids.

“I’m okay, Nikto. Trust me, please.”

He sighs, fingers twitching. But he doesn’t grumble any blunt vitriol, he just watches. Always watching. 

Your spirits are lightened by his presence. 

Brushing down your t-shirt, you close your eyes and shove away the memories, tiny tingles of pain still present as they go up and down your spine. 

“Now, we have to get to work,” you brush past the episode, used to them. “It would be helpful if you lent a hand, Big Guy.” 

Your joke leads to a huff, fingers taking back their book from the table—all in Russian script, so you didn’t know what it was—and a roll of eyes.

“That is not my problem. Your clothes, your parties.”

“The parties you’re going to have to go with me too,” you smirk, eyes glimmering as you grasp your phone, flipping it over to turn it on and look at the text you’d received. “I hope you like suits.”

Pale eyes widen before a growled Russian sentence wafts over the music from the recorder. You laugh, already knowing the contents of curses and refusals. He was so much like a child sometimes it takes you aback. A brute, utterly refusing what was in front of him and owning a short fuse. 

“Oh, calm down,” you blink, signing into your phone. “I’m good at finding clothes as long as you tell me colors and shades. You’re in the best hands in the business, Nikto.”

“Do not say it like that,” he barks, eyes narrowed and his body moving forward to pass you, most likely to go back to your bookshelf and return the book, seeing as he’d get nowhere with it now. “I do not want your hands, Whelp.” 

“You’re saying that now,” you tease, pointing with your free finger. “Everyone says that before they have a taste of—”

“Quiet.” 

You laugh, spine lightly bending forward, and Nikto’s back turned to you to where you can’t see his face soften at the sound. His body unconsciously loosens, orbs gaining a distance that has nothing to do with his condition. Your existence is a curse to him, and he doesn’t know how to deal with it.

It’s only after you’re able to calm down, the Russian putting his book away with a large hand, when you finally look down at the text you’d gotten. 

UNKNOWN NUMBER:

‘I sent you a gift and you didn’t even open it?’

Your face freezes mid-smile.

 ‘I’m giving you everything you wanted—you didn’t open the letter I gave you in the grocery store, either, did you? I waited for hours for you to show up! Hours for you! I’ve waited YEARS to be near you! I love you more than anything in my life and you’re ignoring me? How can you do that when I’ve risked so much? Please, Seraph, I love you but you’re breaking my heart—I’m trying so hard to be kind to you. Please, don’t make this harder than it needs to be. Это любовь с первого взгляда! Я не могу жить ��ез тебя! 

I’m trying to forgive you, my Сладкая, I promise. I’ll always forgive you, but let me show you how much you mean to me.’ 

Images pop through, scent quickly as your glee stiffly drops like glass to the floor. You’d never felt yourself go so still as when you’re halfway through the block of text and you see yourself at the grocery store, alone, and Nikto’s shadow disappearing around the aisle. More—so much more. You in AMA...in…in the photoshoot wearing nothing but the lingerie, skin on full display.

Your eyes flood with tears, jaw open.

He had been in that fucking room. He’d been there when your manager had brought in the dead birds—he, he had…

He’d been right there.

You can’t speak, you’re only looking down at the continuing barrage of photos. 

Outside of the Consulate building, walking down the street, talking with Aly on a girls outing from months ago. Your phone vibrates with every one, quivering hands already moving but now more so. Like a rabbit being hunted down. It shows an escalation—the more you see the closer this freak was getting in each, slowly slinking with vile intentions until the last. 

An image of the direct back of your head, a hand reaching, and almost touching, exactly where your scar lives.

You’re going to vomit.

The entire device is snatched by gloved fingers.

Nikto glares in confusion, ears twitching at every buzz of your phone. “What is wrong with—”

The man is suddenly more wound up than a dog under a noose.

Rushing past, you only reach the kitchen trash can two seconds before your bile rocketed from your mouth, heaving what little you’d managed to eat of Nikto’s cooking into the bottom with a tight sob. 

Nikto’s hand holds the thing—reading, looking, with dead eyes. Dead eyes that gradually become enraged with a certain type of anger that breeds in silence. The skim, a ruthless finger tapping the screen and dragging the conversation back to the top before he stares. He stares and stares and stares at the pictures. At you. 

The way you live your life, oblivious to the threat right behind you. Stalking closer.

Nikto can’t remember a time he’s felt so angry at an enemy before. Not just an enemy, no, an animal. This wasn’t like the rules of war, this was for pleasure; for a selfish need. He knew how to keep himself separate—had to for his sanity—but this was something no one could not get wrathful at. Even him.

He hears you wretch, vomiting into the trash just below the island where he’d made the both of you lunch, the choke of your sobbing breaths. The sounds make his hands tighten over the phone, to smash it to pieces like a toddler with a block castle. 

And then the device buzzes one more time as Nikto silently finishes reading the first text you’d been sent. 

‘Don’t worry about the bodyguard, Seraph, I can take care of him, too. We can finally be together, just like it’s supposed to be.’

Nikto is hitting the call button before his brain catches up to his finger.

Slotting it to his covered ear, he breathes like an afflicted hound, eye buggy and chest rattling with air. Panting echoed from behind his mask, the hot breath moving back to warm his slashed and burned flesh. 

It picks up on the second ring, but nothing is said. No words from the other end. 

In the corner of his eye, Nikto sees you hyperventilating. The former soldier speaks entirely in Russian, slipping back into his native tongue as easily as he slips into violence—it is nothing more than a slide of sandpaper.

“I am going to watch the life bleed from your eyes,” he grinds out. “And then I’m going to make your corpse wish it had been set on fire instead.” 

Nikto hangs up, tossing the phone to the coffee table and making a mental note to get Yaromir and Galina to trace the number. Stomping over to you, your body was away from the trash now, hand to your mouth. 

“I’m okay,” you say hurriedly, tears tracking your cheeks. “I’m okay.”

“You are not,” Nikto wishes he could go to the shooting range—wishes he could spar and slam someone down to a wrestling mat. He needs flesh under his fingertips. 

The Russian’s chest is wide and rising with the pulse of untamed lungs. The bulge of his pecs stuttered over their course and the old scars he carries itch under the barrier of his gear. 

Growling, the man clenches his eyes shut, shaking his head to the side firmly. 

But there was something about the implication of you being threatened that made Nikto need to feel the weight of his service weapon in his grip. To feel the recoil of a bullet being sent into someone. A nameless figure; a silent phone call. 

Nikto scoffs, rolling his neck and shoulders. 

Thinking like this was making him reckless. 

“I guess I should have told you about the letters, then,” you taste bile on your tongue, images swirling in your head—paranoia was firm. Suddenly, every memory was tainted. You gag on your saliva, coughing. 

Nikto doesn’t respond to the self-deprecating comment. 

Once more today, hands move to touch you, pulling at the space under your arms and lifting. Blinking, you’re moving around when your feet are flat on the ground—hands going to rest on the edge of the counter behind you.

Nikto’s hands stay stuck at the meat of your limbs, great head tilted. Eyes lock on the tear tracks spreading down your skin, and he pauses. 

A thumb slowly pushes at them, spreading the liquid along your flesh as your blurry vision stays at his neck. With a shuddering inhale at the unneeded attention, your head lightly sags forward—connecting with Nikto’s chest. 

He tenses, looking down at you from the corner of his eye.

After a minute, his nose releases an unheard sigh, and his arms lower to his sides.

Nikto lets you rest there as long as you need.

—

You’re in the bath tonight, and Nikto listens to the water sloshing as he pushes the envelopes around from inside the lockbox. 

It was safe to say you hadn’t gone back to packing.

That woman, Alyona, was here—she’d made a big fuss about the texts before she’d taken you with her and led you into the bathroom to clean yourself up. You were both in there now—talking. Nikto wasn’t going to act like he wasn’t eavesdropping; he didn’t care if your friend or you knew it. It was mostly about the parties, the talk, and the Russian could understand that Alyona was trying to occupy your mind. 

His mission was more important. 

You’d passed him the box and watched as Nikto had retrieved the letter from your coat pocket. The former soldier had already called the investigators and promptly told them to arrest Sergi, or they would have him to deal with—there hadn’t been time to respond before he’d hung up and smashed his phone to the nightstand of your rented room. The resounding echo had made both parties in the bathroom go silent for a minute before hesitantly starting back up.

And now, there was the scratchy English script of a stalker in his hands. He felt disgusting even touching them; he was glad he’d put his gloves back on. A permanent sneer was stuck to his hidden face like a curse, eyes narrowed.

Standing, the man trades weight from his thighs as he reads the letter that had been stuck in your jacket. 

‘My Сладкая, 

This is the one-hundredth letter I’ve written to you, though you haven’t been sent all of them yet. I’m still waiting for you to notice me, and I’ve grown disquieted by your response to the way I disposed of your three guards. Was that not what you wanted every time you looked at me?’

Nikto’s hand comes up to rub at the fabric over his neck, digging until he feels the bulge of his scar against his fingertips.

‘I thought you would be thankful, but now you have that man following you everywhere. He took your doves from you—the doves that were supposed to make up for the misunderstanding about the dead men. You looked beautiful with the red fire moving over your face that day, you know? It caught every curve and the softness of your skin perfectly. Here—I even took a picture for you to enjoy as I thoroughly have. I hope it brings you the pleasure it brought me to run my lips over your holy image.”

Fingers crumble the side of the letter, creasing it. Not once do they delve into the envelope to look for that picture. If he had the choice, Nikto would rip this entire thing into little bits.

‘I think it’s time that we meet—alone, Сладкая. I’ll be waiting tonight at the café for you, so we can run away together. And start this life together. I think it’s time. Yes. I will ravage you with all of the beautiful things in life; jewelry, dresses, makeup, my body. It is mine, isn’t it? You? You’ve told me with your eyes, so why are you still ignoring me? You look at me every day. I look back—you love me! I know you do! Why are you still being such a—’

It falls off into nothing but rabid script; illegible even to Nikto’s best abilities. The letter is saturated with something—spots of the paper pulling in on itself with droplets off…

Nikto stills, disgust and insult moving in his gut. There wasn’t any DNA on the box, but they certainly had some here.

Dropping the letter into the lockbox on the nightstand, the man takes the top and rams it shut with a rattle of the nesting dolls on the upper shelf. Nikto removes his gloves and tosses them into the garbage bin. 

Stalking to the bathroom door, he moves on instinct. Ever the animal. 

Knuckles rasp to the wood. Conversations halt once more.

“Seraph,” he eases, accent tight. “You are well?”

A bead of silence, the moving of water. 

“Yes, Nikto,” your voice is still shaky, but it comes out from under the door. 

Nikto stares at his feet, blinking. With a grunt, his feet shift and he forces out, “Good. You will call if you need us.”

It wasn’t a question.

Moving back, he nods to himself firmly, shaking out his right hand—he can’t seem to stop being on edge. Every creak, every shadow of your decorations moving, made his eyes dart to them, honing in as if behind the scope of a rifle.  

Nikto brought his hands to the side of his skull, pushing in. You were messing with his head, he tells himself again. The moments of dissociation were becoming more frequent as of late, and he could feel it in the back of his mind even now. A glaze over his brain that made everything feel like it was worlds away from him—it was sharp and sure of itself. Words jumbled, ‘I’s came out as ‘We’s, things were lapsed from his brain; important things. Moments of confusion—aggression. Leaving you behind in a grocery store at the flip of a coin. Snapping at you in real anger when you were just curious. 

He can’t do that. He can’t lose his grip. 

From inside the bathroom, your eyes stay locked on the door, your head resting on the wall behind you as your skin soaks in the claw-footed tub. 

“I don’t know if this is good for me, Aly,” you confess lowly, eyes shifting back to the wall ahead of you, a little black and white ceramic fish on a shelf. Candles let off the scent of linen and pine. 

Alyona sits on the stool a few feet away, watching your face worriedly. 

“Солнышко,” she starts slowly, “we both know it isn’t. It’s going to pass—I can’t hope for more than that.”

It’s like a repeating record—It’ll be okay, just keep strong, push through.

It wasn’t Aly’s fault; she’s involved in this too. 

“Is Nikifor worried about you?” The woman’s head perks, her lips twitching as the orbs inside of her head soften.

“Seraph, you don’t have to change the subject—”

“Truly,” you move a hand up from the water and rub at your face. “Really, Aly, I need a distraction. Please, just…talk. You know I love to hear about the two of you.” 

She sighs, looking to the wall. After a moment, she chuckles, head tilting down. “Yes, he’s worried. He worries about you as well. You have a home with us, little Солнышко—I want you to know that, yes?” Alyona brings a hand to your cheek, pinching in good nature. 

You shuffle away in mock annoyance, lips twitching. 

“...I know, Aly.”

“Good,” she huffs. “I would not be a good friend if you didn’t. At least that brute is taking care of you, it seems.”

“He’s a good cook,” you ease out. “You should try it sometime.”

Gray eyes blink at you, shocked. “He got you to eat a meal?” 

“You’re saying it like I never do,” you chuckle, eyebrows pulling in as the dimmed overhead light shines down on your avoidance of the problem at hand. 

“No, it’s not that,” Aly’s eyes rove with unseen emotion, her concerned heart gaining a smidge of affection for the man outside of the door, whose shadowed feet can still be seen pacing. “I am…glad, Seraph. Food is always the way to someone’s senses, eh?”

Your lips twitch, but the weight on your chest remains. A tense pause grabs the both of you.

“I wish you were coming with,” you have to admit on a stiff tongue. “Ever since I first got here, you’ve been with me for all of it—the parties especially.” Your open mouth stutters. “Aly, I don’t think I can do it again by myself. All of those people; what some of them expect from me, it…it’s just…” Getting choked up, you move a hand to your mouth, covering it. From behind the flesh, you mutter, “I can’t do it again, it’s just the same as staying here, as a matter of fact, I think staying would be better.”

“You need to think rationally,” Aly shakes her head, getting closer to take your hand in both of hers. She squeezes, her top shiny in the light as it moves. “Nothing is worse than staying in this city. The man outside the door agrees. It is the safest option for you, even if,” Alyona closes her eyes, looking away as she opens them. She never finishes her sentence. 

“I don’t want to,” you fight a whimper. “Aly, we tried so hard to get out of them sending us like meat.” 

But there’s nothing that the woman can do to you when you say it like that, and even her expression gets far away. Alyona’s eyes blink fast, getting glossy before they avoid your eyes for the rest of the night. 

“I’m sorry, My Seraph. I’m so, so, sorry.”

And that’s all that can be said.

When night comes, you don’t think you sleep at all, and by Nikto’s pacing of his room, the occasional pause to peek his head through your doorway, neither does he. 

—

The time to leave came far quicker than you could anticipate as the days blended. Chelyabinsk was nearly a three-hour drive if you went the fastest route, and in the time before it, you and Nikto hadn’t spoken much about the letters. They’d been taken by the investigators the next day, along with your phone, for testing and tracking. While you’d been given a new device, it was a tiny thing that died more times than not; you had three contacts—Alyona, Nikto, and your mom.

You’d been assigned a driver by AMA for the trip, and thus, the all-black vehicle had arrived in the small hours of the morning as you had finished a hurried call to your matriarch. 

“I’ll be back soon, Mom,” you’d explained. “Business. I’ll keep me busy.”

She had said it was a good idea like everyone else. Aly and you were the only ones to know the truth. Dread was a fishhook in your throat, but the fear of staying here was just as prominent. Those pictures haunted your mind.

“Nikto,” you ask, grabbing one of your suitcases on the street with a grunt. “Can you…?” The item is taken and easily lifted into the trunk. “Thank you,” your voice breathes out a sigh into the early morning air.

You hadn’t been to Chelyabinsk in a long time. Your brain knew that it would be most of the same—you needed to be careful of who you spoke to and how you did it. While regular crime was only moderate, corruption and bribery was your main problem when entering the place. You were on Allurement’s payroll, would your CEO’s influence be enough to stop anyone from trying anything with you? 

If you stuck to where you were told to go, you should be fine. 

Along with yourself and Nikto, photographers and media know-hows would be tagging along; makeup artists and stylists. A team of people who mostly refuse to look at you at all, only a few familiar faces among them. 

But, thankfully, only you and your guard would be in this car. 

“You can get in,” Nikto comments, blinking at you in the dark street, the lights of the car and the penthouse behind you all you have to differentiate between shades of black and gray. Your eyes had been constantly narrowed so you could try and see better. “I will load the rest.”

“If it’s all the same to you,” you smile sheepishly, “I’d like to stay out until we leave. I get fidgety when I’m in the car for too long.”

His shoulders shrug, taking another of your bags from the ground. “Very well. You will eat on the way there, then.”

Your eyes blink, attention pulled back from the shadow of a man walking across the street, raising hair on your arms. 

“What was that?” You tilt your head.

Nikto huffs. “Eat. On the way there.” He raises a brow. “You need breakfast.”

“Oh,” you at your neck slightly. “Sure, yeah. But what about you? Do you want me to turn around or something so I won’t see your face?”

“No need. We ate as you dressed. Packed the remaining for you.” You’re brushed past, the purse around your shoulder connecting with Nikto’s thigh as his boots clop over the concrete. 

Your lips twitch, expression still worried but the tease sneaking out instinctually. “I need to start calling you Mother Bear, Nikto.” 

“It will be the last thing you do, Whelp,” he grumbles, eyes looking over his shoulder as he packs the last suitcase away. Amusement is like liquid stone inside of them. 

So the trip ensued. 

You entertained yourself by staring out of the window as the cityscape rolled back, already missing the sanctity of your penthouse as you fiddled with a small stuffed bird in your grip. 

“I spy…” you mumble twenty minutes in, trying to be normal again. “Something tall and gray—”

“Tree,” Nikto grunts, trying to read one of the books he packed. 

“No,” you say, defensively. “It was,” your mouth opens and closes, scouring the passing scene but finding nothing. “Fine, yes, it was a tree.”

“I spy something blue.”

“That’s not even funny.”

“I believe it was funny. Perhaps you do not have a good sense of humor, Woman.”

You glare, throwing your stuffed bird directly at his forehead and watching it bounce off. Nikto doesn’t even look away from the words on his page, flipping to the next with a deep chuckle in his neck. 

Rolling your eyes, you groan and slouch into your seat.

You had to say, though, that as the city disappeared, so did your anxieties. It felt good to be near dense croppings of trees again—only an open and uncrowded highway and Nikto beside you. His pale eyes would watch you every so often, and you would do the same, studying each other as time passed and a gradual silence fell.

“Can I use you as a pillow?” You ask with only an hour left on the trip. 

Nikto’s halfway through his book, and up until now, you’d kept to yourself, lost in thought. 

“I am not comfortable,” he utters, leg shifting. He glances, but his numb eyes don’t do much until they move back to where they were prior. “And my Kevlar is hard. It will aggravate your head.” 

You had to wonder how fast he caught onto that fact about you. A smile grows on your face, and you shift to grab your jacket, folding it and tossing the item onto Nikto’s thigh. His head darts down right as you move to rest there, body sideways and legs folded against the door. 

“I like it when you worry—it’s cute,” you stifle a yawn, ignoring his digging eyes. “Wake me before we get there?” 

Your ears don’t wait for an answer, your fatigue from missing an entire night of sleep catching up where Nikto’s never would. He watched you rest for the remainder of the ride, hand hovering over your shoulder until it slowly slipped down to rest on it with a grumble of exasperated Russian under his breath. But the man had noticed the bags under your eyes—unable to be hidden by makeup. He found it in himself to let you sleep, even if the infection of your warmth made his head go loose; how your slackened face looked peaceful. 

The knowledge of what you’d just experienced was still with him, even as he linked his feelings together as pointless. This was a waiting game, and everyone else seemed to have time except for you. 

He didn’t like it. There was a nagging in the back of his gut—instinctual understanding as a hired gun who’d gone through many deployments. This was bigger; something was going to happen soon. A tipping point.

Nikto had a feeling you felt it too, as your head nuzzled his thigh in your sleep, shoving yourself into your jacket as tiny grunts moved from your lips; eyebrows furrowing. 

Bad dream, the Russian clocked immediately, his book long placed at his side and his one elbow against the window frame. 

Pale blue eyes watched for a moment, looking at your deep red blouse and the long back skirt that lightly cascaded over the side of the seats. His hand at your shoulder—hard and immobile, twitches as it tries to keep you steady, feeling the muscle under your flesh writhe. 

Only when you can’t seem to calm down does he do anything at all. 

Nikto can easily stamp an expression of annoyance on his face, of bored numbness, but instead, a sliver of something that could be considered softness bleeds from behind his eyes; something that even if he were to look into a mirror, he couldn’t name himself. 

A finger brushes up your neck, scarred and broken, most of a finger missing and the nearest ones fuzzy with nerve damage. It hovers, steady, before his hand moves to massage along the base of your scar. It’s an awkward angle, no mistake. After all, he was practically grabbing the side of your neck to reach, but it was all he could offer short of waking you. 

When he couldn’t sleep, he’d do the same to himself; it helped, he thought, feeling skin on skin—a caress that eases aches. Call it pathetic, but the sensations he was feeling doing the same to you were nothing short of trance-inducing. To understand the pulse of your heart—your breath returns to a slow puff; brows settling back down at only his circling thumb. 

A bit of that infectious pride trickles into his eyes; smug. 

Nikto grunts, and leans back into his chair, continuing his work to settle you, and smirks softly under his mask. 

Only roughly half an hour to go, and then it was back to guard duty. But perhaps he could close his eyes and rest as well. 

You made for quite the distraction.

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