#and even that’s not particularly “attractive” or whatever the fuck you wanna say about him it’s just cool to watch

[arkhamjack]

Thank you everyone for the reblogs on my "how some of the fandom sees wolfwood vs how I see him" lol I wanted to continue the conversation bc I am very annoying about this stuff and it grosses me out bc I am sensitive or whatever but um yeah 🤓

It's pretty long so TL;DR stop being weird about Wolfwood thanks 👍

I'll talking about objectification, hypersexualisation, and prejudice so a warning I guess --->

The Gaze has been working overtime on Wolfwood's ass (and tits) and it's making me a little nuts. This is not to say his character cannot be presented in a sexy way, or that he cannot perform sexuality without being problematic, it's just... ask yourself: why.

It can be subconscious, you might not even notice it, but media tropes have a way of worming into people's brains to be regurgitated into fan art, especially if the character presents or is coded marginalised in a way you are not. (I do it too!)

It starts from young. I had an adult call me a "hot head Latina" as a child LMAO (I am not even Latin)

Characters and actors that looked like me were worked into typically these roles - If feminine, desired, sexy but crazy, dangerous. If masculine, similarly sexual, either hot or ugly, suspicious.

I feel silly and attention-seeking for speaking up about this kind of stuff, especially as I feel I'm not in a place to cry 'racism' specifically because I'm more 'ethnic' than POC.

I'm a Balkan mongrel - Greek, bits from Turkey, Albania, and fuck knows what else. I've always kept my head down about people being weird to me but it comes to a point like the point of a classmate comparing my hair to an animal's, where I feel I gotta go "ok yeah lets unpack that."

Now about Wolfwood, he's our classic racially/ethnically ambiguous smoky sexy guy. Particularly in the 98 anime, he's pretty bosomy. He's a struggler - swindling Gunsmoke with his charm and portable confessional. This swindler trope, I've observed, tends to go hand in hand with 'suspicious immigrant out for your money'. Again, maybe I've pulled that out my ass and I'm being oversensitive, but I notice things. Tastes left in my mouth. Anyway. Brings to mind the time some other classmate jokingly called me a 'hustler' for *checks notes* making sure my work is submitted on time.??

Now on the subject of NSFW fanart... oh boy I am so uncomfy writing this... I rarely see him depicted.. receiving. You can place the issues here pretty easily. Give him a break. Please. Also I did note this on my original post and also completely my own opinion but PLEASE that man is not bigger than Vash, and I don't mean like not taller, like, thiccer. Calm the fuck down.

I hate having to write this bc it makes me uncomfy and reflects my own experiences of objectification by other people which sounds all very "oh noo its sooo hard being attractive :'((" but I trust y'all smart enough to see where I'm coming from.

The gaze. Othering. Marginalised masculinity (not to mention my intersecting trans identity thats a whole other unrelated convo). Hypersexualisation. Objectification.

But back to Wolfwood!! - are these tropes perpetuated by the original creator? Personally, I don't think so. (Wolfwood's design is based off a Japanese guy btw - musician Tortoise Matsumoto) The 98 anime? Maybe?? Am I reading too much into it? It's hard not to - naturally I'll latch onto the ambiguous guy and go "alright let's see how they do this" so naturally certain things stand out to me.

But when some of that fanart starts rolling out ... Jesus Christ ... MY EYES

On the flipside, I've seen great fanart out there! And I've seen quite a few Latino headcanons for Wolfwood too!(like I mentioned before I am not Latin, I am also not American in general I am a filthy freak Australian with our own colonial racist histories and intricacies) (There is also Latin diaspora here but I don't wanna speak for anyone aaaah)

I'd like to think most of the fandom is cool about him. But um. Yeah.

I said what I said but if I did say anything out of line I am so sorry and PLEASE let me know - I am using my own experiences as reference and acknowledge the intricacies my own privilege

Yap session over 👍

[heyyallitssatan]

So, I don’t how to explain my identity to people. I just say I’m nonbinary and a lesbian cause that’s the easiest way to explain it, but that’s not really true

I am nonbinary, kinda, I’m sorta genderfluid, but it’s really just fluid about how much I care, I mean, sometimes I really care about pronouns and my chosen name and it feels like nails being driven through my skull when someone gets it wrong, but sometimes I’m completely indifferent to it

So now it’s like, I have two names, cause sometimes my birth name is fine and sometimes I prefer my chosen name and sometimes it’s all too damn confusing and I don’t really like either but I also don’t really care? I don’t what to do with that

And pronouns, fuck, idk what those are, I mean, sometimes she/her makes me want to cry, sometimes I don’t give a fuck, sometimes he/him feels great, and sometimes I don’t give a fuck, they/them is neutral ground, so while I don’t particularly feel attached to it, it’s better than the other two most of the time

Also, it changes with different people, like, my family only use she/her for me, and even on days when she/her hasn’t bothered me at all, I call one of them and they use it, suddenly it’s not ok and I wanna scream, but strangers can say whatever, they don’t know me, so I don’t really worry about how they perceive me, I also get a solid mix of perceptions, it’s about fifty fifty for the boy or girl assumption

And then you add sexuality to this steaming pile of shit

Like, how can I have a defined sexuality when I have zero fucking idea what my gender is

Like, I think I’m attracted to girls, maybe guys, and probably enby people, but also like none of them, cause I don’t think I feel sexual attraction, but I also don’t have a problem with the idea of having sex, maybe, but like I don’t think about it unless someone else brings it up, and I still can figure out the difference between romantic and platonic attraction to save my life, like I just don’t know

I think my ideal future is the one in which everyone just uses they/them and gender neutral language so I don’t have to think about it, I get top surgery so I don’t have to deal with my chest, get a complete hysterectomy so no more unnecessary period, and then have a platonic marriage with 1-3 of my best friends, sounds great

[biggie-chcese]

Ummmm can I get a frickennnnnnnnn yomi hecksmile for the bingo

GIVE IT UP FOR THE DOUBLE BINGO WOOOO

rain code spoilers and LONG rant below:

yomi hellsmile is one of if not the funniest character in rain code. i was delighted nearly every time he was on screen because his over the top, camp-level Saturday morning cartoon headass evilness captivated me. i like his design but dont find him particularly attractive. i am just thoroughly entertained by the way that he looks like a hazbin hotel gijinka. i mean this in the most positive way possible. it's so fucking funny. when i first saw mr Red Hair with the emo bangs grinning at me and then a name literally meaning Hell Hellsmile flashing across my screen, i had to pause to laugh. what the fuck. this character is great.

the fandom doesnt get it and just hates him for the ch 2 scene or kicking yakou or whatever and like, yeah sure he did all that shit. but he's so funny. nearly every line of dialogue is golden. he should be on a reality TV game show what's bro doing being a cop

as for some other opinions... i do think that yuma should've been able reap his soul in ch 4. i dont have any desire for revenge for yakou or whatever. i just think there'd be something narratively compelling about makoto literally making use of the detectives and yuma's book of death as indirect hitmen for both of his biggest obstacles (yomi and huesca) so his hands would stay "clean" of this crime. using yakou to be rid of huesca, then using yuma to be rid of yomi. it feels strange to me that he had to do all that shit just to get some files. come on bro. just have sex with yomi and steal his keys while he's distracted or some shit. why do people have to die for some tax fraud records. yomi and the peacekeepers dont even put in much effort to hide their assholery and corruption. it's right in your face. WHAT would leaking this information do??? you're the top ranking official besides yomi so who are you even showing this evidence to???? the other knowingly corrupt peacekeepers and Amaterasu officials who benefit from yomi's rule?????? world's greatest mind, my ass. anyway tldr; it's an unsatisfying and somewhat baffling conclusion to yomi's downfall that just kinda makes makoto's plan seem unnecessary and silly. despite this, i didn't fill the "canon isnt real" bingo slot because i dont ignore canon i embrace it! i just have my gripes about this particular plot point

regarding the thing in chapter 2 that makes Everyone uncomfortable... i also dont think martina is a helpless innocent victim girlboss queen or whatever. like she was all down for all that toxic shit until bro brought out the cube machine n she was like "wait you're like. Killing me killing me? damn." like she just didn't wanna die. but she was into the sadomasochism stuff. that much is clear. she would return to him in a heartbeat if he was back in power.

ANYWAY wow i sure talked a lot abt a character who isn't even a personal favorite of mine. the brainrot isnt as strong but believe me when i say i love this guy.

[vaultboyenthusiast]

i don’t understand the hype around joshua grahams voice actually. it’s not nearly as attractive as i thought it would be and i feel very let down. it’s just like. a standard deep and growly voice. what is with all the hype. this is the voice you people are willing to ignore him being an awful person for? this is the sexy voice you’re defending blatant racism over? smh yall are weak.

[theowritesstuff]

Out Of My League

Adrian Chase x gn!reader

Summary: You and Adrian both hide your feelings from each other, in fear that the other is out of your league.

Warnings: injuries, mentions of smut

A/N: Did I write this after seeing a tiktok edit of him with a song with this title? Yes, yes I did.

Reader’s Pov

“Alright, we leave tomorrow, so please get some rest, and be here bright and early in the morning.” Harcourt told the team.

Everyone started gathering their things from their respective desks, and saying their goodbyes before leaving for the night.

Great. You had spent yet another mission briefing starring at Adrian. Admiring his animated way of communicating his thoughts with everyone. Returning the grin he gave you all when he was particularly proud of a comment he made that didn’t quite land with everyone else.

You had a habit of, what Economos called (and begged you not to do), encouraging him. You’d always laugh at all of Adrian’s jokes. Always take his side when others put him down. And always join in on his out of pocket ideas.

It was a bad habit, but how could you not? Ever since you’d met Adrian-Busboy-Crime Fighter-Chase, you’d been under his spell. While others found him irritating, off-putting, and somewhat abrasive, you thought he was cute, charming, and frankly, a delight to be around.

“So, how long were you actually listening before you went off to Adrian-land?” Adebayo asked you, teasingly, tapping the side of your head.

You quickly shushed her, causing her to laugh. “I wasn’t in Adrian-land, I was very much present.” You said, crossing your arms.

“You weren’t listening at all.” Harcourt interjected. “Lucky for you, I planned ahead in case we couldn’t get through everything tonight, and had Economos make pamphlets.” She handed you a crudely colored tri-folded piece of paper.

“Thanks.” You grumbled.

“Why are you so obsessed with him anyways?” Adebayo asked.

“I’m not obsessed! I’m just a tiny bit attracted to him, what’s the big deal?” You shrug.

Harcourt scoffs. “No, you’re not a tiny bit attracted to him, you basically undress him with your eyes whenever you’re in the same vicinity.”

“Gross.” Adebayo replies.

“No I don’t! And it’s not gross! He’s cute, he’s funny, he’s smart, he’s everything I want in a person.” You sigh, leaning against your desk, eyes starring at the door Adrian and Chris left through.

“So ask him out.” Harcourt told you.

You laughed. “No, absolutely not. There is no way I’m asking him out.”

“Why not?”

“Because he’s out of my league.” You shrug, and start to gather your things from your desk.

“He’s a murderer, and a fucking busboy.” Harcourt said slowly, as if she was explaining something to a child.

“Aren’t we all murderers?” Adebayo pointed out.

“Okay fine. But he’s a fucking busboy. There’s no way he’s out of your league.” Harcourt tried to tell you.

You turned to face the pair. “I don’t like it when you guys do this. And it’s not just you two, it’s everyone. You’re constantly putting Adrian down. Don’t you think it hurts his feelings?”

“He doesn’t have feelings.” Adebayo commented.

Sure, Adrian would deny having emotions like other people. He constantly puts on a brave face around the team, but you can see through it. He just wants friends, people who care about him the same way he cares about them.

“Whatever. I’m going home, goodnight.” You wave at Harcourt and Adebayo, then leave the office.

Adrian’s Pov

“Hey man, you wanna go grab a beer?” Chris asked Adrian.

Ever since Project Butterly, Chris had been more open with the team, and even nicer to Adrian. Well, somewhat nicer, of course he would still occasionally say things that were extremely rude.

“I’ve gotta work tonight.” Adrian shrugged.

“Fuck man, aren’t you ever tired? Like, you work two jobs, and only get paid minimum wage for one.”

“Yeah, I guess, but my second job is amazing.” He grinned at Chris. “Besides, hanging out with you guys makes it all worth it.”

Chris hummed in agreement. The team had all created a bond together post-butterflies. They now took up various missions Harcourt or Adebayo found. Chris and Harcourt were kind of a thing. And Adrian felt like maybe he could have that with you.

“Hey, what if I asked Y/n to hang out? Like, just me and Y/n?” Adrian asked. It was important for him to know his bff’s thoughts.

“Ha! Y/n? You wanna ask Y/n out? That’s hilarious man!” Chris couldn’t help but laugh.

Adrian furrowed his brows, and gave Chris a confused look. “Why is that hilarious?”

“Because they’re way out of your league man!”

There it was. The rude statement of the day.

Adrian didn’t think much about whether you were out of his league or not. All he knew was that you were kind, funny, hot, and one hell of an assassin, and that he was definitely attracted to you.

Oh fuck. He thought. Maybe they are out of my league.

Adrian frowned. You had always been nice to him, always laughing at his jokes, and standing up for him when he was ridiculed by his teammates. In his eyes, you were perfect. Anyone would be lucky to have you, so why should you choose him?

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” Adrian said, a sad smile on his face. He tried to shrug it off, like it didn’t affect him, but it did. Adrian liked to think that he was a pro at hiding his emotions, so it only made sense to put on a brave face.

“Alright, well have fun at work dude.” Chris said, as he gathered his stuff, then left.

Adrian couldn’t keep you out of his head that night at Fennel Fields. He desperately tried to think of anything but your beautiful smile, your melodic laugh, and your bright eyes, but there you were, overtaking his thoughts. It made him deflate a bit. That’s just how you feel when you want someone you can never have though.

Reader's Pov

The mission went by with only a few cuts, bruises, and scrapes. Adrian had a pretty nasty gash across his shoulder blades though. His suit could only protect him so well, he was still human.

You brought him to the small bathroom in the office to take a look at it. He stood in front of the mirror, starring at you, as you worked behind him. You sewed the gash closed, then cleaned off the blood in the surrounding area. You wrapped him up in some gauze, just to make sure nothing happened to the cut.

He couldn’t take his eyes off of you. You looked like you were deep in concentration. Your eyebrows were scrunched together, focused.

It hurt you to see him hurt. It hurt to see the red that was a dark contrast to his fair skin. The freckles on his shoulders and back, now less noticeable due to the splotches of blood that covered them. It was usually easy for you to admire Adrian, his taut upper body that he hid beneath his suit as well as sweaters never failed to make your face heat up.

There were however, a few instances where you couldn’t admire, because you were struck with fear.

The first time it was during the whole butterfly ordeal. You remembered seeing him get shot in the back, then throwing a knife at someone, before collapsing to the ground. You remembered not being able to take his hands off of him in the van on the trip to the hospital. You had forced him to undress his top half so you could look at the damage. He had insisted on redressing himself before entering the building, mask and all. It was a hassle getting him to admit himself into the hospital, much less getting him to undress, letting the doctors and nurses look at his wound.

The second was today. You saw the person slash across Adrian’s back with a knife, and not too long after, you had shot a bullet through his chest. You ran to Adrian, trying to hold him. He winced when your hand brushed against his back. In the van, he tried to convince you he was fine. He told you that he just needed to rest, maybe have a granola bar, and he’d be good as new. You had to physically drag him to the bathroom.

He knew that you cared about him. It was in your nature, you cared about everyone. He knew that if Chris were slashed across his back, you’d be here, helping him. However, he liked to think that maybe you wouldn’t place a soft kiss on the top of Chris’ shoulder once finished like you did with him.

“So, what’s the verdict Dr. Y/n?” He asked, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror.

You wrapped your arms around his waist, and rested your chin on his shoulder, careful not to touch the cut. “I think you’ll survive Mr. Chase.”

He laughed, then turned to face you. The room was small, you were essentially pressed together, chest to chest.

“Thank you.” He said softly.

You gave him a smile. “Of course.”

You didn’t miss the way his eyes glanced down at your lips. You took his hand in yours, then started to lean closer to him.

Your lips were nearly pressed together, when you heard someone pounding on the door.

“Guys, c’mon, other people need to pee!” Chris shouted from the other side of the door.

You quickly pulled away from each other, faces heating up in embarrassment. You opened the door to see Chris standing there. He looked back and forth, between you, and Adrian’s still shirtless figure. A smile broke out on his face.

“Oh, sorry for interrupting, but a bathroom isn’t the most romantic place to get it on.” You scoffed, then brushed past him. Chris gave Adrian a thumbs up as he followed you out.

That night you all decided to go to a bar that Harcourt had found to celebrate a job well done. You were able to convince Adrian to blow off work for one night. Surely Fennel Fields would survive without him for one night.

Your group all sat crowded around a small table, talking and laughing with each other, beers in hand. You didn’t miss the way various people would look over at your table, seeing someone they were clearly interested in. It usually happened with Chris and Harcourt, but since they were kind of together now, nothing ever came of it.

Of course there would be people here and there who were interested in Adrian. Yeah, the group made fun of him, but he was attractive. You felt your stomach churn when you caught someone starring at him from across the bar. Of course, he was oblivious to it, he was too busy laughing with Chris about something Economos said.

“I need another beer.” You moved to get up, but Adrian quickly got up first.

“I’ve got it!” He quickly walked over to the bar, talking to the bartender.

“He’s got it bad for you.” Adebayo commented, leaning toward you.

You rolled your eyes. “No, he doesn’t.”

You looked back at him to see the person from earlier walk up to him. They put a hand on his back, to which he flinched and pulled away. He looked at them, then smiled and said something. Probably along the lines of ‘sorry, snow boarding accident’. You weren’t even sure if Adrian knew how to snow board. The two of them started talking, and soon your beer sat on the counter in front of him, ignored, because his focus was on the person he was talking to.

You could only watch someone flirt with Adrian for so long. “Hey guys, I’m kind of tired, I think I’m gonna head home. See you tomorrow.” You gave the group a wave, then made your way out of the bar.

The night air was cool, making goosebumps appear on your arms. You had all carpooled together, so needed to walk back to the office to get you car. You had only made it two blocks before you heard someone calling your name.

You turned to see Adrian jogging up to you, a confused look on his face. “Where are you going?” He asked, once he’d finally caught up to you.

“I’m just a little tired, I figured I’d go home early.” You shrugged.

He looked unconvinced. ‘Yeah, okay. Want some company?”

“I don’t wanna keep you from having fun on your night off.” You told him. The cold air blew past you, causing you to shiver, and wrap your arms around yourself.

Adrian looked down at your body, then back up to your eyes. “Are you cold?”

“No, I’m fine-”

But before you could finish your sentence, Adrian had already pulled his sweater off, and held it out to you.

You reached out to take it from him, and pulled the soft red material over your head. It was a little too big, the end falling down too far, and the sleeves fell past your hands. It smelled faintly of him, and instantly warmed you up.

Adrian smiled, and put his hands in his pockets. “You look like a dinosaur.”

You raised your hands, the fabric hanging down over your hands. “How are your arms this long?” You laughed.

The two of you walked back to the office in a comfortable silence. Once there, you went inside to gather up your things from your desk.

“Hey, uh, while we’re here, did you maybe wanna check my back again? Chris may have given me an aggressive pat on the back earlier.” Adrian asked, switching his weight back and forth on his feet.

“Yeah, sure.”

You pulled a stool out of Harcourt’s office for Adrian to sit on. The street lights outside cast a soft golden glow inside, giving you plenty of light to look at him.

He slowly pulled his shirt off over his head, his shoulders rolled, stretching the muscles in his back to get more comfortable. You gulped, then started to pull at the gauze that you had wrapped around him.

Once off, it looked like the cut was okay, the stitches still in place, the area around it though was a light red, probably just sensitive skin.

“You look fine, the stitches are still in place.” You told him as you re-wrapped the cut.

Adrian noticed that, this time, when you were done, you pulled away, no kiss on his shoulder.

“Hey, I’m sorry I pulled you away from your friend at the bar.” You said.

Adrian put his shirt back on, then looked at you, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“At the bar? That person was clearly flirting with you.” You told him.

“Oh.” He shrugged.

“So, are you gonna go back to the bar and find them? Could be fun.” You tried to sound nonchalant, like the idea of him with someone else didn’t make you want to melt into the floor.

“I don’t really feel like hooking up with a stranger tonight.” Adrian didn’t really feel like hooking up with anyone that wasn’t you as of late.

“Oh.” You replied. “Well, I should probably get home, get some rest.” You said quietly, slowly making your way to the door.

Adrian knew that he needed to find some way to get you to stay with him, even for just a few minutes. It was rare that you got to be alone together, and when it happened it made his heart soar. He wasn’t quite ready to let you go yet.

“Hey Y/n!” Adrian called out, a little too loud.

“Yeah?” You turn to look back at him.

He sighs. “Fuck, I- I really don’t know where I was going with this.” He says, mostly to himself.

You walk back to him, and place a hand on his arm. “Are you okay?” You ask.

He can’t take his eyes off you. The gold light from outside illuminates your face, and casts a soft glow around you. You’re still wrapped up in his sweater. Your touch is soft, and your hair smells really nice. His eyes travel back down to your lips.

“I really wanna kiss you right now.” He mumbles to himself without thinking.

You break out into a smile, then wrap an arm around his neck. “Kiss me, Adrian.”

The kiss is soft, and sweet. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him. When you break away, you can’t help but smile at him.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

Your smile instantly drops, and your eyes widen. Adrian’s never really been one to think about his words before he says them, but you never expected him to say something so unexpected.

“I know you’re way out of my league, but-”

“Wait, wait, wait.” You pull away, putting some space between the two of you. “You think I’m out of your league? I thought you were out of my league.” You tell him.

“What? No fucking way! You’re like, amazing!” He says, as if it’s obvious.

“You’re amazing!” You respond.

“I love you so fucking much.” He sighs out, before pulling you into another kiss.

You smile into the kiss, and grip the front of his shirt. You pull him into Harcourt’s office, lips still locked together.

“I love you too, by the way.” You manage to get out between kisses.

You kick the door closed with your foot. If Harcourt found out about what you and Adrian were about to do in her office, she’d probably kill the both of you, but at least you would die happy.

[sexyandcringe]

Deep talks with Suna Rintarou

Content/warnings: fluff, self-indulgent, kind of mutual pining, mentions of alcohol, sex, virginity and death but it's really not that deep! It's just all hypothetical and light fun talk, so no need ta worry. Suna and Y/N talking shit about people behind their back lmao.

Character(s): Suna x reader

A/n: so i wrote this like MONTHS ago but never finished it cause i thought it was too.. Unrealistic? Self-indulgent? Something that people won't like? But now i realized that i literally do not care about what people think 💀 i'm gonna post whatever I want, EVEN IF it's a different kind of characterisation.

You hate pubs. You hate seeing so many people dancing glued to each other, the sweat, the smell of too many perfumes all together. You hate their music taste and the loud sounds; unless, of course, it's your favourite music that is playing.

You fidget nervously with your phone, trying to look busy and cool, hoping that one of these old men standing three meters away don't notice you. You hate places where you feel unsafe, but what you hate even more is being seen as lame and becoming an outcast, that is the reason why you accepted your friend's invite in a heartbeat.

A friend who is currently sucking face with a random dude you don't recognize across the room. She is not a bad friend per se, not one of those who would leave you alone in a party without any texts or calls, but right now she's probably drunk as fuck and doesn't even know her own name.

"The music here sucks." You don't expect Suna to reach out to you, you barely talk to him when you hang out with your mutual friends.

He is a pretty boy with hazel eyes and it would be a lie if you said that he didn't pique your interest, that you didn't find him attractive, but his gaze intimidates you way too much for you to even look at him in the eyes. In fact, even now, you are trying your best to avoid them, opting to stare at the nasty crowd in front of you.

"Hmm, it does indeed." One thing you have learnt about Suna is that you and him have the same taste in music, the only knot that connects you two.

"Do you wanna go out? I'm not really enjoying this place." He looks at you briefly before shifting his gaze to your phone, which you have been torturing for a while now. "And it looks like you aren't either."

You don't reply immediately, because going out with Suna means that you will have to talk to him – and that would be definetly awkward – , it's not like you are particularly close with the guy. But you'd rather feel awkward and nervous around him than unsafe and anxious here.

"Sure." You reply, finally looking at him and for a second you see a hint of a smile on his face, you wonder if you're imagining things, did you drink too much?

He leads you out of the pub, looking back time to time to see if you are still following him, and finally you join him to his car. You sit in the passenger seat nervously, but you are not scared. You know that even if he is a little aloof, Suna is a good guy, he wouldn't dare hurt you.

"Wanna go for a long drive? With real music." He mocks the pub's ear-piercing drums; you chuckle at his comment, nodding, "I'd love to."

He quickly connects his phone’s bluetooth to the car’s music player while you click your seatbelt. “Put whatever ya want ” he says, and your eyes widen slightly at the sight of Suna offering you his phone. He is passing his phone with his personal informations and memories to you. You know it’s just so you can put a goddamn song, but still, that doesn’t stop you from blushing and feeling butterflies in your stomach when your fingers brush against his. You are quick to type out a song that you know both of you like and “23” from Chase Atlantic blasts in the car.

It’s peaceful, you think. None of you want to ruin this pleasant moment by filling the silence with useless talk. You enjoy it with your eyes fixed outside the window, but you can’t help but think that the real view is sitting right beside you. So you dare – you dare shift your gaze to him, ogling his firm and veiny hands gripping the steering wheel and just as if he could feel your eyes boring into his hands, he turns to you after lowering the music's volume and your breath hitches.

"What are you thinking?" he asks. I was thinking of how fucking hot your hands are is definetly not the answer, so your brain tries to formulate a reasonable one, failing miserably.

"I just... Thank you." You sigh "I was getting really uncomfortable back there."

"I could tell. You are not used to places like that, are you?"

"Not really, i've just been to a few friends' parties, but i don't like loud sounds."

"Hmm, you do give the vibe of a goody-two-shoes." Suna has a shit-eating grin while he says that, but you are too focused on the new information he just delivered to notice that.

"Hah?! You wouldn't say that if you knew me better." You cringe internally, you don't really wanna look like those quirky girls who think they are mysterious and special by saying things like that, but you also don't want him to think you are a prude. You are not a goody-two-shoes, you ran away from your parents, for god's sake.

"Yeah? Then i'd like to know you better." he says, but he is quick to withdraw his slip of tongue "That is, if you let me."

You feel your face heating up, the words die on your tongue and you have no idea on how to reply to that, "S-sure". Suna Rintarou wants to know you better, you couldn't be happier, you physically cannot stop yourself from grinning like an idiot.

He takes a turn to the left, "So, what would you do if tomorrow was your last day on earth?" he asks. Way to get to know someone, you think, but then again, Suna wasn't really into small talk.

You giggle before replying, "Hmm, i guess, first of all i'd text all my friends – real life and online – and family that this is the end for me, aaaand maybe hang out for a few hours with my closest friends eating whatever i want, give away my stuff to charity, and last but not least, fuck someone. Don't wanna die as a virgin." you conclude.

"You're a virgin?" he quirks an eyebrow. You realize what you had said a little late, your face heating up as you try to play it cool.

"Y-yeah, is that a problem?"

A small smile tugs at Suna's lips. You swear you are seeing things. "No. Not at all. Virginity is a social construction, anyway."

"Cool." You decide to move on from this awkward moment. "What about you?" You ask after putting "Into it" from Chase Atlantics (again), but lowering down the volume so you could hear him better.

"If i'm a virgin or not?"

You want to punch him.

"No! I mean what would you do if tomorrow was your last day?"

"Ehhh, maybe get wasted so i dont have to think about what i should do on my last day, i'm not sure, i'll think about it when the time comes." he shrugs, barely stopping in time when he sees the red traffic light. For someone who is into deep talk, he sure has to improve on his answers.

"You can't know when you're going to kick the bucket, y'know?"

"Didn't you know? I am a main character that can see your death clock. Mine own too." He replies with such a blank expression that for a second even you doubt if he is joking or not.

Still, you decide to play along his little game. "Oh yeah? How long am i gonna live then?"

"Hmm." He checks you out while rubbing his chin between his thumb and index finger, as if that would make him look more credible. "Long enough to get laid." he replies with a smug face that you wish you can kiss.

You gasp at his attack, slapping his shoulder to warn him, but you really don't look that intimidating when both of you are laughing like idiots in the middle of the street.

Unfortunately your "romantic" moment is cut off by honking cars behind you, urging you to hurry the fuck up since the light is already green.

You don't want your conversation to die yet, and maybe it's the alcohol or just the night, but you have enough courage to question Suna, "Okay, my turn." You remember reading somewhere that people at night are more honest because their brains are tired; you don't want to miss this chance. "Do you like someone?"

The first reply you hear is his sweet chuckle. "What are we? Middle schoolers?"

"I'm just curious! Answer me!" You demand, but soon regret it, maybe you are crossing limits you shouldn't cross. "Or don't... if you are uncomfortable."

He hums. You assume you won't get any more information, because you asked something you shouldn't have, and oh god now he will think you are noisy and annoying and- "No, not really." but Suna stops your train of thoughts.

"Huh?" you sure are surprised by his reply. When it's night, people are more honest. So are you. "I thought... I thought you had a little something for Shizue. You guys seem close."

He grimaces at the idea of feeling anything remotely romantic towards the said girl, "Absolutely not. She is the one who keeps clinging onto me, i can't stand the girl."

And again, you fail to hide your emotions; too stunned to speak, you look at him bewildered.

"Don't look at me like that, i know you also hate her."

"How can you tell?"

"Pfft, have you seen the expressions you make every time she talks? "

"Oh my god!" you cover your face, embarassed to be so readable.

"I guess you are right, i do hate her guts. Always so loud and fake."

"and fucking rude." he adds.

"I know right! Wanna slap her so bad every time she opens that foul mouth of her."

He laughs, you think that maybe he imagined seeing you throwing a hand to the loathed woman, and to be honest, you don't dislike the scenario either, so you laugh with him.

"I wish she would just leave me alone. I think i've dropped enough hints to show my displeasure around her."

You don't show it but you are so, so glad he doesn't like her, happy even that he seems to hate her as much as you do. You couldn't guess, really, he always have an unreadable expression, you wonder how many people he hates, yet hangs out with. Not like he chose to hang out with her, she just happens to be close to one of his friends, so she always ends up self inviting herself when their group hangs out.

As much as you are glad, you don't want to spend the rest of the ride talking about her and ruining your night, so you decide to change the subject, but Suna beats you to it.

"Okay, next question. Are you busy tomorrow?" he asks smoothly, and you swear your heart skips a beat, because there's no fucking way that The Suna Rintarou is asking you this so you could hang out with him tomorrow. You try to not get your hopes up and play it cool, praying to whatever higher being that he does not notice your nervous behaviour.

"Not really. Why?"

"Wanna go to the mall? I need to buy a present for my sister's birthday... thought it'd be better to have another girl around to choose the gift. Also wanna check out the new manga section. What do you think?"

Playing the hard to get girl has never been your forte, that is why you easily give in to his charm and nod approvingly, "Sure, sounds good. Text me the time and place later."

Suna smiles softly looking at you before returning his eyes on the road; you don't know that but inside he is squealing like a high schooler who just touched his crush. Well, it's normal for him to feel like that, after all, you (his crush) are going to hang out with him tomorrow and he can't help but think of it as a date.

After some more chit-chat about his sister and your workplace, he drops you off at your place, calling it a night. Honestly you would love to spend more time with him, you even considered inviting him home, but you trashed the idea thinking of it as inappropriate and especially because you really wanna wear your soft pijamas and sleep like log; the night has exhausted you.

"Thank you for the ride, Suna, I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Call me Rintarou." he corrects you and you feel heat rushing up on your face as you stutter on your words, "O-okay, Ri-Rintarou". Shit.

He drives off as you keep grinning like an idiot in front your apartment door.

You can't wait for tomorrow to come.

Reblogs are really appreciated!

END NOTE: I didn't wanna say this in A/n's above because it would spoil the ending, but in case anyone thought i was "cringy" for stuttering Rintarou's name (because in western culture calling people by their name is normal), i wasn't trying to be a weeaboo w japanese culture, i actually, in real life, call people im not close with by their surnames, classmates included, and i dont let other people call me by my name except family/close friends (i use a modified version of my name online, too), so yeah calling someone by the name/being called by my name is a huge deal for me.

This is not a taglist, i'm just tagging people who replied to my post about me asking whether you guys would hate me if i made a gossipy Suna, so since u guys replied, i'm assuming that you wanted to read this (if not, fluff you!): @yesamu , @i-know-something-you-dont , @im-embarrassed-of-this-account , @eternitysin , @natriae .

[astridthevalkyrie]

We need more on Superior Levi’s daddy link 💳💥💳💥💳💥

you are my favorite person in the world.

warnings: daddy kink (duh), masturbation, oral (m. receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, kind of creampie

he's heard of it before, but he only really thinks about it after someone, maybe mike, brings it up as a joke while they're drinking together (mike pretends like it's not actually one of his kinks as well). and levi considers it so stupid, who would actually want to be called something like that, especially with someone who's supposed to be their romantic partner.

but then later at night when he's in bed alone, paperwork all done, he thinks of the (not confirmed in the story, only my personal preference) eight year age difference that him and his subordinate have, and unwittingly pictures her, underneath him, back arched off the mattress, calling him that, and suddenly his pants are way too tight.

what the actual shit.

he feels bad just thinking about it. the girl lost her father as a kid, for fuck's sake, this is beyond inappropriate and as much as she's teased him and made it clear that she doesn't mind if he gets off to the thought of her, doing it and imagining this scenario is so wrong. he has to deal with his hard-on, though, or else he's not going to be able to try to sleep like he promised her he would (how are you supposed to tell someone that the sleeping practices you’ve tried with them don't work because they're effective, but because you were with the person in question and they put you to sleep instead of the exercises? he's not afraid of being vulnerable, but he doesn’t wanna disappoint her, she was so excited about them.)

so he stands, not wanting to dirty the bed, and sheds his clothes before stepping into the hot shower. never before has he been more thankful for his rank. fuck the shitty title, fuck the endless piles of work and fuck being a leader, but if he'd had to do this in the common baths he doesn't think he could go through with it.

placing his hand on the tile to steady himself, levi starts slow, like she always does, taking himself in his hand and languidly stroking until he's sensitive to the touch. it's easier to do this now than it was before he was in whatever the hell this relationship thing is, because now he can actually picture something he's felt, he doesn't have to try too hard to imagine how her lips feel on his neck—it's so hot in here—or how mischievous she looks whenever she coaxes him to sit down on the bed, gets down on her knees, purrs in that stupid seductive voice that she's going to make him relax—"relax, daddy"—

fuck. oh fuck, he can feel his cock twitch in his hand, and his strokes speed up as his mouth falls open in concentration. he has to stop, he has to, it’s wrong, but it's so vivid in his head. she'd coo it, and he'd groan, fuck her mouth until he spilled down her throat, telling her what a good job she did for daddy—fuck, fuck, fuck!

it takes him no time at all to spill in his hand. standing there, panting, levi rests his forehead on the tile and lets the guilt consume him.

the thing is, the thought doesn't go away. it's not like he's walking around thinking about it every time he sees her, but when they're being intimate, it's a different deal. it's at the back of his head for weeks, not least because she likes to call him captain, and that's bad enough already. gives him lewd thoughts, makes him question just how far she'd be willing to go.

truth is, levi's shy.

neither him nor her are particularly.....sexy, or suave, and that's not to say that she isn't attractive, beautiful, drop dead fucking gorgeous. she absolutely entices him with the way she smirks, her charming way of talking, or how she skips out on dinners the nights there are shortages and thinks no one notices. and like, yeah, he's in love with her. all that good stuff.

but while neither of them were each other's firsts, they also weren't geniuses when it came to this stuff. or even particularly...experimental. he knows she likes praise (and she knows he likes it too), and he knows where to kiss and where to suck and where to bite and what she likes and what gets her dripping wet and what makes her squirt and fine, he's not giving them enough credit. when they get to properly have a moment, they're pretty good at it.

that's not the point, though. the point is that they're not that kinky. they're not. he just loves her and knows how to make her feel good, that's not kinky, that's....something else.

thinking about her calling him daddy is a different story altogether. that's not emotional, or sweet. that’s kinky. that's downright filthy.

and that's half of why the idea gives levi such a thrill.

he's going to keep his fucking mouth shut, though. he will.

and he does a good job. for the most part. until a certain night.

it's like it just won't leave his head. they just went two rounds on his bed—levi gave special attention to her today, his precious, hardworking girl, tonight was all about making her feel good, pulling three orgasms from her before even undressing himself—and now she's spent, arms wrapped around his chest from behind, one leg hooked over his waist, face buried in his nape. the steady, warm puffs on the back of his neck let him know that she's asleep. that means he won't be roused in ten minutes to be seriously asked whether or not he thinks ducks get jealous of each other.

very often, she takes the time to coax him to sleep before sleeping herself, but he’s glad she didn’t waste her time today because he’s not sleeping anytime soon. tonight, the thought, the unspeakable thought, the kink, is ever so present in his mind and he can't get it out.

resting his cheek against the cool pillow, levi sighs. he tries to think of something else. titans' ugly faces, the bath he has to give hange tomorrow. merchants in the underground. a muddy floor. a messy floor. objects strewn everywhere and dirt covering every inch of—

"levi," she breathes in her sleep, and a shudder of pleasure ripples through him at the way she sounds. he wishes she could say his name always.

and he wishes, he wants...

before he's fully aware of what he's doing, he's reaching down under the thin sheets, pulling down the waistband of the undergarment he just put on. once again, he's rubbing himself until he's fully erect, but this time, there'll be no fucking his fist.

for one thing, he'd wake her.

and secondly, with her in such close proximity, it's a painful reminder that his hand lacks in comparison to how hard she can make him come.

that's...a good starting point.

her calves. her thighs. her stomach, and chest, and neck. her calloused hands. her lips. maria, the way her lips twist when she's smirking. the way her breasts move when he's fucking her. the way they feel in his hand as he's kneading them. how he can feel them pressed against his back right now.

yes, yes, that's it. that's fucking it. slow and steady does the job. he might not come, but it still feels good. a part of him wishes, though, that she'd wake up. that's his arousal speaking though, because—shit, her pace of stroking is much better than his—as frustrated out of his damn mind as he is, she deserves her sleep.

that means levi gets to edge himself to slumber. a whimper escapes his lips at the idea.

sweat builds on his forehead. the room is so hot. she's hot. she's pressed up against him all cozily, and he is anything but cozy. he's in a needy state like he’s some horny fucking teenager.

and that word, that stupid fucking word, won't stay out of his fantasy no matter how hard he tries to push it out.

would she moan it? gasp it as she came? tug his hair as she whined it?

"fuck," he hisses underneath his breath, head bowing, "fuck, yes."

the thoughts are flooding his head like a heat wave. his hand goes slightly faster, and his hip desperately twists against the sheets to try and find some kind of grounding.

levi hardly realizes what he's trying to say until it's already out of his mouth, gasped into the darkness like a helpless plea.

"you're gonna be good, right? you're gonna take it like a good girl?" because of course she would, his good girl always obeys orders, and when she doesn't, well, it’s no loss for him. "m'gonna give you everything, s'long as you just, nngh, s'long as you just open your pretty little mouth and beg—" his eyes roll back at his own words, not expecting himself to spew something so vulgar—"beg daddy to fill you with his cock."

and right behind him, with her left hand covering her mouth to conceal her gasp, reader listens, awake, to the sound of her captain voicing his filthy fantasy. she's not sure where the heat pooling between her legs is coming from. is it because of him jerking off to this while she's right there, or is it because what he just said is one of the hottest things she's ever head?

whatever the answer is, for now, she'll let him drown in his imagination, and simply enjoy the sounds of his quiet groans. because as much as she wants to move his hand aside and replace it with her own or her mouth, she knows that this is a card that she has to play at the right time.

the right time comes much later, even though she'd have liked to utilize her newfound weapon sooner. they're in the survey corp, though, shit happens and things don't always work out the way they want.

truth be told, she'd almost forgotten about it.

the night had started with the usual paperwork, until she took notice of his tense stance, hunched over the desk. after convincing him to take off his uniform and shirt, she let him keep working while she massaged his shoulders, looking over his head at the documents and dropping the occasional kiss to his hair. levi, for all his selflessness, enjoys being doted on when she's this sweet about it. her hands feel soft and good on his sore muscles.

somehow that ends up with her sucking his cock under the desk, his head thrown back all pretty as he whines, fisting her hair and guiding her back and forth. stress relief has never tasted so sweet, she's so eager to please and so bratty at the same time, his little fucking minx.

with pre-cum oozing from the tip, she pops off, using her thumb to smear it all over the base of his cock, listening to his low moans while jerking him off lazily as she catches her breath. right as she's about to continue, he tugs her up so she's standing in front of him and makes quick work of removing her pants and panties and pulling her on his lap. “needy,” she goads with a grin.

“shut up.” he kisses her as she sinks down on him, letting her moan nicely into his mouth. broken gasps and whispers are exchanged as she starts gradually riding him, savoring it. "faster," he mumbles, teeth latching onto her pulse.

in a shaky voice, she says, "beg me."

"no."

"ooh, you're so irritating—fuck." his nails dig into her hips and he begins to bounce her up and down, hitting a precious spot that has her unable to antagonize him properly. eventually, she's letting him take control.

it's not levi's favorite position, not because it doesn't feel good, but because there's a higher risk of him coming inside her, and while the two of them have become masters at the pullout game, sometimes it's hard to get the word out when she's wrapped so tightly around him—so wet, he can hear the squelching sounds her pussy is making each time he rolls his hips up and it's driving him crazy.

"lev," she's whining, "want a kiss."

"c'mere then." without waiting for her to comply, he snakes a hand in her hair and pulls her in, tugging at her bottom lip between his teeth to elicit the soft gasp that he's been dying to hear. her thrusts slow down, soft lips molding against his as he slides his hands down her back. shit, kissing her is such a goddamn treat.

now's a good time to check if, “you’re okay? you wanna keep going?"

grinding against his lap, she nods, pressing her lips to his adam's apple. he swallows as she rests her hands on his shoulders, then, resuming the pace they were at before. a groan tumbles from his lips, and he pushes his hair out of his eyes before taking a glance down to where she's swallowing him so eagerly. the sight is enough to make him tremble.

one of his fingers comes down to swipe at her clit, rubbing in time with her thrusts. to muffle how loud she's getting, she sucks messily on his skin, leaving wet spots and a bruise that he'll have to explain away later. she gets sloppy, pushing him down in the chair, hips thrusting erratically until she's biting down into his neck, whimpering his name over and over again, and squeezing him so impossibly tight that levi has to still, cupping her ass to keep her still as she gets close, right there, almost there—

right into her ear, he rasps, "be good and come for me, sweetheart."

and come she does, the rare pet name having her body seizing and spasming in his hold. both of them let out similar cries, but what really gets his head spinning is how she keeps going, not even taking a break to come down from her release.

"fuck, slow down." the demand is less of a growl and more of a petulant complaint. he's overwhelmed by sensitivity and he hasn't even orgasmed. but he has to keep a clear head, if he doesn't then he'll accidentally spill while she's still on top of him. "jus' need your hand," he slurs, but when she doesn't quit, his eyes roll back. "o-or your mouth, if you want."

she shakes her head, peppering open-mouthed kisses down the side of his neck to his shoulder. "it's fine, i'll get off before you finish. c'mon, baby, use me."

"shit, don't fucking say that—fuck—"

and that, that reminds her of something else he probably doesn't want her saying. and by doesn't want, she means will rile him up even further.

levi's thrusting harder now, bringing her down against his hips so brutally that his mouth slowly falls open.

as much as she can think with such a hazy post orgasm state of mind, she thinks about saying it.

it's not even really a choice. she wants to see his reaction. wants to make him feel good.

one hand on his neck, she yanks his head back by the hair, with levi releasing a little pleasured mewl because of the pain, her nails digging into his scalp.

he looks at her, confused but unbearably hot all over, and he shudders even before she speaks in his ear, in the softest, brattiest whisper he's ever heard.

"i want more. i need more. give it to me, please, i swear i'll be good.” she nips at his ear and clenches around him. “please, daddy?"

that does it.

"fuck!" he wails, tossing his head back, already feeling the first spurt coating her walls, "coming! ha-ah, fuck, i'm coming!"

she pulls herself off with a sharp gasp, but the hood of her clit rubbing up right along the tip of his cock just makes him cry out all the more. by the time her fist wraps around him and she slips the head in her mouth, swallowing the rest of his release, levi has a tear slipping down his cheek.

he's frozen in place, gripping the armrests of the chair so tightly that his knuckles are white. he comes so hard he sees stars, right into her warm, waiting mouth.

for a whole minute, the only sound that fills the room is his heavy breathing, and the only movement he can manage is weak stroking of her hair as she kisses the inside of his thigh.

but eventually, levi grasps her arm, gently pulling her up to seat her in his lap again. with a small grin, she brushes away the tufts of hair on his forehead, pressing her lips there for a couple of all too brief seconds. "so," she starts, gleeful, "interesting taste"

"shut up," he manages, exhausted, "go to sleep."

that, if anything, makes her even more obnoxious. "without cleaning up? wow, captain, was it that good?"

some part of him wants to argue that of course he meant after cleaning up. but a part of him is also still floating in the clouds.

all he does is let his head fall forward on her shoulder, and she takes the unspoken cue, nuzzling her nose into his hair with a slight hum.

before they go down the dangerous slope of actually falling asleep like this (again), they'll have to get up, clean themselves up, head to the bed. but that....can come later.....when his eyes aren't drooping, when she's not settled on top of him so nicely, when she's not running her hands through his hair even though she knows that knocks him right out.

so for now, he'll surrender. and they'll most likely have a long, embarrassing talk in the morning.

levi's eyes close. "hm. it was pretty good. thank you"

she smirks. "anytime, daddy."

"fuck off." he feels the weight on top of him shift, and presses her further down to his chest to keep her from escaping. "stay still, or i'll...i'll..."

the rest of the threat is mumbled unintelligibly into her skin. her eyes soften.

yeah. in the morning.

[duskamethyst]

broken reverie.

a/n: he’s not wearing glasses in this one.

word count: 3.9k

genre: smut, nsfw, college AU

warnings: taboo rs, slapping, spanking, choking, face fucking, brat taming (kind of), slight degradation, creampie, age gap (nanami reaching 40)

pairing: professor!nanami x f!reader

summary: professor nanami calls you to his office to ‘talk’ about your terrible performance in his class.

maybe you went too far.

or else you wouldn’t have ended up in his office. 

but is this the outcome you coveted? yes.

the door creaks behind you before it closes again as you sit and wait in front of the big wooden desk. you were kind of excited when he told you to come and see him at his office earlier but now you’re having a whirlwind of emotions making your stomach churn and you don’t dare to look around to face him– even though he’s going to be sitting in front of you in a moment.

his shoes clack against the floor as he strides and sits on his chair. the air in the room feels dense when the male doesn’t say anything; as if you’re not in his presence to begin with.

he looks exasperated. a long, deep breath is emitted through his nostrils as he loosens up his tie from the collar. you only gawk at him in awe as he does so, but quickly snap out when he finally shifts his gaze at you. 

“so, are you going to tell me what’s going on?” he finally breaks the silence. the deep, husky tone of his voice fills your ear and you hope he doesn’t notice your thighs press against each other almost immediately.

“tell you.. what?” you mentally slap yourself. you’re clearly aware of what he’s insinuating but you’re suddenly lost for words. there’s a huge difference between seeing him in class and being alone together with him. it’s even more nerve wrecking than you imagined and oh god, is his ac broken? because it suddenly feels hot.

nanami raises a brow, evidently unamused. “i had the courtesy to make time for you when i should be having brunch now so i don’t appreciate you playing coy.” 

you gulp audibly, “i’m sorry, sir.”

“if it’s not clear to you yet, i’m talking about your grades.” he opens the drawer under his desk and pulls out a pile of paper before slamming it in front of you. you blink in surprise and flip through the pages, though you know you don’t need to see it when you already know what lies on them. there are a lot of red circles on the papers, namely yours, with huge unpleasant numbers on the corner ranging from 12% to 25%. 

then he takes out another file which you realize as your student record throughout your semester and the subjects you currently take. 

“i find it odd that you scored well for your other courses.” he skims through the pages. “you certainly didn’t cheat, i can tell.”

“no, of course not.”

“then, what’s the problem here?” his tired eyes bore into you as he waits for you to answer or come up with whatever excuse.

“well, i–” 

“you’re doing it on purpose.” he snaps.

it’s as if time comes to a stop. your cheeks heat up with humiliation and you can’t bring yourself to continue to look at him in the eyes. although you’re aware that your silence means compliance, you’re still jumbling up words in your head to deny his assumption. 

“are you going to tell me i’m wrong?” 

“yes– i-i mean–” you stammer.

“then enlighten me.” he glances at the branded watch donned on his left wrist. “we have time.”

you shake your head, “i have another class soon.”

“skip it.” he quickly retorts. “i’m sure you have no problems with that. your grades are doing well for that one, but certainly not mine.”

sweat starts to form on your palms as you look down on your thighs, purposely avoiding his eyes that hold nothing but so much intensity. you’re weighing between two options; to keep on bluffing or come clean. you don’t think that nanami would let you get off the hook if you keep on lying and you’d definitely be bombarded with more questions, yet the outcome of the latter would be so embarrassing and you don’t know if you can live it down for the rest of the semester.

you’ve fantasized about being alone with him but.. not particularly this way. 

gathering courage and taking a deep breath, you decide it’s best to just tell him the truth.

“you’re right,” you feel your ears burning, hands clammy. “i purposely failed your class.”

lifting up your head, you see the male grinning lopsidedly in his seat. maybe he’s pleased that you’re not wasting his time anymore, you’re not sure, he’s not easy to read.

“wasn’t that easy?” he folds his arms in front of his chest. “i have my own speculation but i wanna hear why you did it.”

“um,” you look down to your hands again, also half wondering what kind of bold assumption he has in mind. “i was dared by my friend.”

“wrong,” he scoffs. “and look at me while you’re talking.”

you sigh defeatedly and nervously fix your gaze. if you’ve learned one thing now, it’s that your professor doesn’t have tolerance for bullshit and he knows one when he hears one.

“i-i did it for.. attention.” 

“my attention?” he emphasizes, maintaining his stoic persona to mask his amusement of finding out that his speculation turns out to be indeed true.

you purse your lips in a thin line, nodding your head quietly. nanami remains to stare at you as he ponders in silence. you can hear your heart beating rapidly in your ears and you want to break eye contact so badly but you’re certain it wouldn’t be wise. 

“all that, just for a crumb of my attention?” he spits with a hint of venom in his voice. “are you happy with what you did?”

well, you’ve imagined him punishing you on his desk, fuck you raw or spank you with his belt until your ass turns red– not some serious interrogation.

“no, sir.” 

nanami props his elbows on the table, hands clasped under his chin to keep his head up. the air around him becomes even more threatening but it somehow manages you to feel even more aroused, making your toes curl in your shoes. you definitely need to get out soon.

“you know, if i have even one student failing my class, i could get into trouble and be questioned for my performance.” he starts. “to have you doing that for your own selfish incentive is unacceptable, don’t you think?”

“i’m sorry.” you mumble with meek.

“besides that, you might have to retake this course again for your next semester and it’ll waste your time– or..?”

you stay silent to let him continue.

“or you were intending to be in my class again so you can see me?” 

“y-yes.” you bashfully admit after one silent moment, knowing that lying will take you nowhere. “i’m sorry, sir.”

nanami chuckles, finding your naivety to be rather entertaining. never has he ever met a student like you, outwardly expressing their interest in him by failing their paper. he’s not too sure what you’re trying to get out of him but maybe he can put one and one together. it’s pretty common that younger women have an attraction to older men like him and your classmates are.. well, not exactly the best looking either. 

“are you?” he smirks cynically. “do you have any idea how many students i have to monitor? how tiring my job can be?”

“yes. it was inconsiderate of me. i’m sor–”

“show me.” nanami cuts you off and leans back on his chair. maybe he can push you a little bit, he thinks. you owe him this anyway.

you blink, perplexed. “what?”

“you kept saying sorry.” he undoes two of the buttons on his blue dress shirt and spreads his legs apart. “talk is cheap. show me.” 

you do a double take as he taps his thigh and waits for you to come over. you have the faintest idea of what he’s implying but your body freezes and your brain short-circuits as if paralyzed.

“you chose to lie again? you’re not really sorry, are you?” 

“no, no! that’s not it. i just..” 

an ongoing battle takes place in your mind– sure that this is a part of your deepest, darkest fantasy yet you’re just baffled over how quick nanami catches on to it. now that your debaucherous dream has become a vivid reality, you don’t know which is the right step to take. 

“but if not now, when?” a soft voice in your head whispers. if desire could embody a voice, you think this is it. gentle, yet seductive as if it attempts to give you a push to pluck and have a taste of the forbidden fruit. 

“how much longer do you have to touch yourself to the thoughts of your professor before you go to bed?”

“although this could be a one time thing, at least you’d know how it feels like.” 

you slowly get up from your seat and make your way towards him. nanami’s eyes trail up at you, down to the floor then back up at you; gesturing you to get on your knees.

you settle between his thick thighs and look up at him timidly through your lashes before you bring your hands to undo his belt.

“no hands.” he quickly demands. 

you lick your lips as you figure the structure of the belt and how you’re going to take it off without the aid of your hands. the taste of cold metal and leather instantly invades your palate as you feebly use your teeth to tug the front loop of his belt. your head shifts awkwardly side to side until you finally get to catch the buckle between your teeth, pulling it hard before the belt soon unfastens.

nanami only observes you indifferently from above, yet the large tent in front of you doesn’t conceal the excitement he currently possesses. 

you take a deep breath before you continue on succeeding your quest. you twist your neck as you find and tug on the fabric loop that holds the button.

“i know you’re a smart girl.” he praises as he rests his hand on top of your head while you struggle to lift up the zipper with your tongue and grasp it between your teeth. the simple praise inflates your confidence and you become more eager to complete your task so you can claim your awaiting prize.

with valiantness, you finally lock eyes with him as you pull down his zipper completely to reveal the huge bulge pressing against the fabric of his briefs and the tip slightly poking out from the top. 

“hm? you still have to take it out, no?” he smirks as he notices you gape at the outline of his cock. 

you quickly pull yourself together and lean back up to the stretchy band on his waist. he hisses when he feels your tongue purposely graze against the flushed tip before you pull down the briefs by force to reveal the one thing you’ve been desiring for so long. 

you press your thighs together as a dull ache forms in your core from the sight of his thick cock standing proudly in front of you. it’s nothing like you’ve ever imagined– it’s better and you’ve finally found it worth going through all that trouble of failing his class (and using your mouth to take off his pants).

“this is what you want, isn’t it?” he sneers, titling up your chin with his fingers, brushing your lips with his thumb and pulling the bottom lip apart so he can see a row of teeth.

“y-yes, sir.” you gulp and breathe as you wait for his next command. 

nanami’s lips tug into a conceited smirk, “suck.” 

leaning down your head to the base, you flatten your tongue underneath the shaft and slowly drag upwards in favor of reveling the veins on his hard cock. nanami lets out a sigh of content when he feels your tongue licking his tip and his hand tugs on your locks by reflex. you look at him as you wrap your lips around the tip, slobbering the tip with your saliva and his precum.

“fuck.” he curses under his breath and his head falls back when the warmth of your mouth finally engulfs his throbbing cock as you take most of the length inside your mouth.

you hollow your cheeks together, head bobbing up and down as you struggle to take more of his cock that you nearly choke whenever the tip hits the back of your throat, but the hand on top of your head grabs a fistful of your hair and he pushes your head down to sink all his length inside your mouth deeper. when you want to pull away, he only holds you in place and remains his cock down your throat. 

“through your nose.” he mutters. tears start to well in your eyes while your saliva just trickles down to his balls as he screws his eyes shut and relishes in the pleasure that washes throughout his body. “i needed this so bad, you know?” 

your whines only give him more stimulation and his hips jerk in response, “just wouldn’t think that a student– fuck– out of all people would choke on my dick.” he lets out a sardonic chuckle as if something just crossed his mind. “it’s wrong, but that’s what makes it feel so good, isn’t it?” 

nanami keeps you in the position as he ruts his hips slowly into your throat. his eyes are closed in concentration and his lips part slightly in fast and short pants. you work on your gag reflex as you let him fuck your mouth, enduring the sharp sting on your scalp when he tugs your hair harder– at least you know you’re making him feel good.

“if i cum in your mouth, you’d gladly swallow, won’t you?” 

you can feel his cock twitching when you let out a choke of assent from your throat but you splutter as soon as nanami abruptly pulls away his cock because of a sudden knock on the door that startles the both of you.

“get under the desk.” he urges and you quickly crawl to hide while he coughs and inches closer to his desk. “come in.”

you hear the door open followed by echoes of footsteps before it comes to a halt in front of his desk.

“didn’t i tell you to contact me before seeing me?” his voice is laced with irritation yet collected as he speaks. you can imagine the agitated look on his face, thinking it would be only natural for anyone to assume that he’s already having a bad day. and to them, interrupting the peak of his orgasm is most definitely not it. 

without a second thought, you take back his dick inside your mouth. a spur of triumph swells in your chest when you feel his body jolts in surprise. you think it’s only fair since he has choked you with his cock and what perfect timing to carry out your petty vengeance when the man is busy advising his student. 

however, nanami shifts on his seat to give you more access to take more length of his cock. he tries to stay composed as he feels your tongue gliding up and down his shaft but once the wet muscle prods against the slit, he emits an oddly sharp exhale. you can hear him almost stammering as he speaks and the way his tone changes to conceal the squelching sounds you elicit from underneath the table as you please his cock with zeal.

“so, i want you to fix the mistake and hmm..,” his hands ball into fists on the table as he takes a deep breath. “show me in class tomorrow.”

“sure. uh, are you okay, sir?” you hear the voice say. “you don’t look well.”

his eye twitches when your tongue wraps around his balls, taking one inside your mouth to suck harshly.

“yeah, fine.” he clears his throat. “thanks for asking.”

nanami only watches as his student turns to walk towards the door until the door closes behind him. once he’s sure that the student has left the door, he finally leans back on his chair in relief. 

“fuck.” he groans, glancing down at you as you look up at him innocently with doe eyes and your swollen lips wrapped prettily around his balls. yet, he looks dissatisfied more than anything. 

nanami grabs your arm and drags you out from under his desk until you’re on your feet, “i never took you as a fucking brat.” he lifts up your skirt and bites back a groan once he sees the damp patch on your panties. “did you touch yourself?”

you hum a ‘mhm’, feigning guiltlessness as he grazes his fingers on your inner thighs. 

“you’re just asking for me to touch you here, hm?” shivers run up your spine when his thumb ghosts over your wet slit and up to your clit.

“y-yes.” your breath hitches.

“begging for me to push your head on the table and ram my cock inside you?” he muses, pressing on your clit as he watches you squirm. “is that what you want?”

“please–” you roll your hips slightly to soothe the ache on his thumb but a hand comes down harshly on your ass, gesturing for you to stop in a fierce manner.

nanami chuckles mockingly, “well, that’s what exactly you’re not going to get.”

a whine elicits from your lips when he draws back his hands to his thighs and you glance at his dick; still throbbing and leaking precum from the florid tip. well, at least he hasn’t put it back inside his pants, so you still have a chance.

“come on. you haven’t shown me how much you’re sorry.”

with your inhibitions already flew out of the window, you stand in between his thighs, hoist the skirt to your waist and tug your panties to the side before squatting down to smear your slick on his dick. sparks of arousal swim through you as you grind your clit on the tip before you sink down, gasping as his thick cock stretches your cunt and down until you’re filled to the brim.

you glance at the male expectantly, waiting for him to move but he raises a questioning brow at you, “if you want something, work for it.”

not exactly what you sought for, but it should suffice. you begin to gyrate your hips slowly, adjusting to his size before you can pick up the pace. you fight the urge to hold onto him for leverage, in fear he wouldn’t appreciate the crumple on his expensive dress shirt later.

as you become more delirious, you start to hump his cock vigorously, whining like a bitch in heat as you feel every vein and ridges on his cock brushing deliciously against your walls. nanami lifts the hem of your shirt and brings it up to your mouth and you quickly catch it between your teeth. 

“the door isn’t locked, you know.” he muses, staring at your bouncing tits with half lidded eyes; mesmerized and thick with lust. “what’s going to happen if someone comes in and sees you bouncing on her professor’s cock like a little whore?”

a low, guttural sound rips from his throat when he feels your walls clenching around him in response.

“you’d like that, don’t you?” he smirks, tugging your bra down slightly and brushes his thumb against the erected nipple, making you mewl through the fabric in your mouth.

“you know you’re not supposed to do this but,” he brings up his thumb to caress your cheek. “you’re just so eager to please me, aren’t you?”

you sniffle in response, hands clutching on his solid thighs as you melt into his soft gaze before it’s gone in an instant.

“but i don’t like brats.” he sneers, drawing his hand away to slap your breast. “i don’t like people making my job harder. are you a brat?”

you shake your head, he slaps again.

“you act like one. stop lying.”

nanami tugs down the shirt from your mouth, a part of the fabric already drenched with your drool. his large hand circles around your throat while the other grips your hip firmly to roll your hip even faster on his dick. 

“oh– feels good–!” you moan wantonly, eyes rolling back as you let him control your body and assert his dominance over you.

“fuck it does.” he presses your throat tighter on the sides, restricting air from entering your lungs but your walls squeeze harder in retaliation. 

“bratty little bitch. clamping down on me like that.” he grits out and slaps across your face. what seems to be a rather harsh form of treatment, the pleasure filled sting and the lack of oxygen only fuel your arousal that you don’t even notice the way you hump on his cock has become more rapturous.

“getting off to this?” nanami slaps your other cheek before he lets go of his grip around your neck and you’re finally able to breathe air again. yet, he doesn’t spare you time to gather yourself before he promptly lifts up your hips and starts to pound inside your cunt relentlessly. 

the position causes you to tip to the front and you immediately hold on to him; face burying on the crook of his neck while his cologne fills your senses and sends you into a state of frenzy. 

“you like me using your tight cunt like that?” nanami grabs your ass for leverage, the angle allows him to fuck you so deep that you’re able to feel his cockhead kissing your cervix with each thrust. 

“y-yes–!” you cry, the pressure in your stomach building up as you inch closer to an orgasm.

“like it when i use you to take out my frustrations?” he spanks the meaty flesh; walls clenching tighter on his fat cock and more slick dripping down his balls. “you just want to be my little cocksleeve, don’t you?”

“yesyesyes– please–!” your body starts to tremble above him. “w-wanna cum–”

“then fucking cum.” nanami rams into your cunny faster, abusing the spongy walls until the pressure snaps and tips you over the edge. you moan breathlessly into his neck, while your pussy gushes and creams around his cock. 

“that’s a good girl,” he fucks you through your high, grunting and panting as he pushes through the pulsing walls in order to chase his high. “and good girls get rewarded, right?”

you hum in agreement, still dazed and swimming in ecstasy as you gawk at him with heavy lidded eyes; the sweat glistening his forehead and sharp eyes focusing on where your bodies join. 

“then you’re gonna get some huge load in this pretty pussy.” his pace begins to stutter, nails digging deeper into your skin before his cock twitches and his hips freeze as he paints your insides white with cum.

both exhausted bodies rest against each other, chests heaving as you and nanami take time to regain composure and come down from your highs. he lifts you up slightly to take out his spent cock and he tugs back your panties in place, not minding the cum that dribbles from your quivering hole. 

your legs tremble once you get off of him that you have to force yourself to find your footing as you fix your skirt while the older male pulls back his pants in place. 

“do your best for your next papers, no more of that bullshit.” he fastens his buttons and straightens his tie before raising his hands to brush against his sleek, light brown hair that’s mixed with a few strands of grey. “but if you have any problems, just come and see me in my office.”

nanami falls quiet for a brief second to contemplate and you straighten your back when you once again meet his icy gaze, “after hours.”

enjoyed this piece? wanna buy me coffee? :)

duskamethyst © 2020 • do not modify, translate or repost anywhere.

[seijorhi]

Pretty Young Thing

A yandere Erasermic commission for an anon, I hope you like it bby!!

Aizawa Shouta x reader x Hizashi Yamada

TW non-con, breeding kink, pregnancy, surrogacy, pregnant sex, smut, age-gap, nsfw

“Don’t you think she’s a little young, ‘Zashi?”

“It’s up to you both how involved you are during the first stages and the overall pregnancy. Normally we suggest an initial meeting with the potential surrogate for all three of you to get a feel for one another and decide if you want to proceed with the arrangement, but should you wish, we can–”

“No,” he interrupts, sparing Hizashi a fleeting glance. “We want to meet her.”

Beneath the desk, his husband squeezes his hand. 

Hizashi quirks an eyebrow, pausing midway through fixing his hair in the mirror. “Whaddya mean, babe? She’s in her twenties ain’t she?”

He’s not wrong, but that’s not the issue. They picked you, they both picked you, but there’s this lingering unease that he can’t seem to shake. It’s not so much your age specifically, he knows that you’re only a few years younger than the majority of the other women whose profiles they’d seen – you’re old enough to understand what you’re getting yourself into and agree to it, at any rate – it’s just that he doesn’t quite understand why somebody your age would want to do this.

And there’s something different about you, it’s just a feeling of course – he hasn’t yet had a chance to confirm his suspicions, but he wants to meet you and decide for himself.

“We do have a number of potential surrogates with promising Quirks if you’re considering pursuing that option for your child,” the Doctor told them, smiling as they flipped through page after page of profiles.

Hisako, 35, Quirk: Sun-flare

Nozumi, 26, Quirk: Mimic

Koharu, 28, Quirk: Seismic Wave

Chiyoko, 33, Quirk: Golden Whip

Yuzuki, 32, Quirk: Silencer

There’s dozens of them – which is more than he expected. 

Aizawa knew coming in that this wasn’t normally the process, that this agency catered specifically to Heroes – was recommended by the Hero commission – but it still feels strange, just browsing through pages upon pages of potential candidates to carry their baby. 

Was he supposed to be feeling some kind of emotion looking at these profiles? The women were all healthy, each of them attractive, in their own ways (nothing but the very best, the Doctor had reassured them with a smile). This woman, whoever they picked, she’d be carrying their baby, yes, but that was the extent of it. She wasn’t going to be a part of their lives beyond that, so what did it matter if she was nice or liked to cook or play tennis?

There were stats, of course. Their education and IQ’s and little snippets of history, but they were all impressive, otherwise they wouldn’t have been included. Were they supposed to choose based on their Quirk? One that might compliment his or Zashi’s? Quirks were troublesome things to begin with, and–

“Wait-wait, Shou, hold up,” Hizashi’s voice cut through his musings, long fingers wrapping around his wrist midway through turning the page. “Go back one.”

He does as he’s told, flicking the page back.

Y/N, 23, Quirk: N/A.

A lone eyebrow lifts. Quirkless, huh? A blank slate.

But that’s not what caught Hizashi’s eye.

“She’s kinda cute, don’tcha think, baby?”

It feels weirdly like a first date, nervous jitters and all – though he’d like to believe he’s better at suppressing that now then back when he was a teenager. Aizawa hasn’t bothered to shave, but his hair’s tied back in a loose bun and he’s pulled out a suit for the occasion – he’s even wearing a tie for fuck’s sake. Beside him, Hizashi’s ditched his usual leather jacket and ripped jeans for, well, nicer jeans and a button up floral shirt.

And then there’s you. Standing in the doorway of the cafe glancing around like a little lost lamb, he recognises you instantly from the picture on your profile, but the moment your eyes meet his he’s struck with the realisation that the picture didn’t truly do you justice.

Because you do look young (at least compared to their thirty odd years) and it might just be the hesitant smile adorning your face as you start to make your way over, or the charming little summer dress falling to your mid-thigh, swishing hypnotically with every step, but Shouta feels something catch in his chest the more he stares. You really are… what was the word ‘Zashi had used? Cute?

Yeah. You were cute. 

The agency had offered to host this little meetup at their clinic, and while he hadn’t particularly cared one way or the other, Hizashi’d been insistent. He’d wanted this to feel ‘natural’. 

‘I don’t really wanna meet our potential baby mama for the first time in some boring, sterile office, d’you?”

He’d only bitten back a sigh at the time, shaking his head. It wouldn’t have been worth upsetting him by reminding him that the girl was technically a glorified incubator. He had every intention of being involved in this process, but this initial meeting was to establish two things. Firstly, that after meeting them, you still felt comfortable with carrying their baby, and secondly, he wanted to make absolutely certain that you weren’t trying to get anything out of this.

Oh, he knew you were getting paid, handsomely, he’s sure, but the thought that you, or any of the women the agency had fobbed their way might not all be in this for altruistic reasons had crossed his mind. 

You were just so young.

But he was more than happy to determine those two things in a ten minute meeting at the agency. 

Hizashi was not, and so here they are. 

Ten minutes in, and he finds himself glad of his husband’s insistence. Hands wrapped around your mug of coffee (you should enjoy it while you can) you chatter away with Hizashi, beaming and blushing, tripping over your own words in your nervousness. 

You’re about as dangerous as a kitten, and he allows himself to relax enough in his seat to enjoy watching the blonde charm you. 

“So why don’t ya tell us a little about yourself, songbird?”

“There’s really not all that much to tell,” you say with a sheepish laugh, but they listen as you talk anyway. It’s nothing the profile hadn’t already told them, nothing spectacular that would make you stand out in the crowd. 

And yet, an hour and a half later, you’re trying in vain to distract him and Hizashi both so that you can slip your card in with the bill to pay for lunch, and Shouta finds himself oddly amused.

There were other candidates – ones with impressive Quirks, smarter than you, more accomplished than you, older than you–

“Ya sure you don’t want a lift, sweetheart? It’s no trouble.”

You smile again, demure little thing, and shake your head. “Oh no, really it’s okay. It’s not far and… I like the walk. Thank you, though.”

– but none nearly so endearing, he thinks. 

And when they watch you disappear into the crowd, one final wave thrown over your shoulder, Hizashi’s fingers lace with his once more.

“So she’s our baby mama, huh?

He’s silent for a moment. “I suppose so.”

—

The agency recommended, at least in the initial stages before the implantation procedure took place, that any communication between the three of you should go through them. 

Hizashi had your number programmed into his phone before you’d even left the cafe, and he’s been texting you every day since – to the point where it wasn’t unusual for Shouta to come downstairs and find Mic chuckling to himself, fingers dancing across the keyboard on his phone as he replies to whatever message you’ve sent. 

Shouta, for his part, tends to message only to check in.

How are you feeling? Any side effects from the meds?

Your response comes a little slower than usual, and it’s almost an hour before finally he receives it.

Sorry they’re cracking down on us using our phones at work :( 

Everything’s good so far! The doc said i should be on track for our appointment next week!

… is it weird that I’m a little excited haha?

His brow furrows at that. You hadn’t mentioned a job – at least not to him, he’d have to ask Hizashi later whether you'd said anything to him. 

Why on earth were you still working? He’d seen the contracts, he knew exactly how much you were getting paid for this little venture, wasn’t that enough to support you?

He makes a brief mental note to make sure that whatever job you were working at, you stopped long before the baby was due. You might just be a surrogate, but he’d be damned if his baby was put in jeopardy because you were needlessly exerting yourself. 

Nevertheless, his expression softens somewhat as he reads the second part of your message. You were excited, hm? 

Well, that made three of you.

Both he and Hizashi’d been willing to come along to the clinic with you – he’d even submitted a formal leave request to take the day off from UA, but the Doctor had assured him that it wasn’t necessary.

“The procedure is quick and relatively painless. She’ll be home within a few hours, and so long as she remains off her feet and doesn’t undertake any strenuous activity, she will be perfectly fine.”

It hadn’t sat particularly well with Hizashi who’d spent the afternoon huffing and complaining about the clinic trying to kick them both out of the process. That much, he expected – he understood it to an extent; the agency catered specifically to Heroes, most of their clientele probably had busy schedules (which was true in their case as well). There wasn’t a need for them to be present at such a minor procedure, even if it did hopefully mark the beginnings of your pregnancy. 

What he hadn’t expected was the twinge of discontent he felt settle in his own stomach. The Doc might’ve preferred they stay out of this, but at the end of the day he really didn’t give a shit what she or the agency wanted.

So he messaged you.

Do you want us there with you?

He watches those three little dots bounce for almost a solid minute before finally your reply comes through.

No, it’s okay, you don’t have to come. The Doc said it wouldn’t take long and I don’t wanna be a burden for you guys

It’s not really an answer to his question, and he briefly wonders if Hizashi might be right about the agency interfering, but he’s not going to fight you on it. 

At least, that’s his plan until Principal Nezu pulls him aside at the end of a staff meeting and tells him that he’s found somebody to cover his classes tomorrow if he still wants the day off. 

“Ya gotta go, babe. One of us should be there for our ‘lil mama.”

He asks you what time your appointment is and there’s a surprisingly pleasant fluttering in his stomach when you walk through the clinic doors and catch sight of him sitting in the waiting room.

It’s a momentary surprise – you almost do a double take, but a smile lights your face and you ignore the receptionist in favour of racing towards him. 

“Shouta, I thought you weren’t coming!” Your arms wrap around his middle, squeezing tightly.

He finds himself returning your hug – albeit somewhat stiffly – but he’s glad he made the decision to come. The Doctor wasn’t wrong, you’re only in with her for just under twenty minutes, and when you come out there’s a tremble in your legs, but you seem otherwise fine.

It goes without saying that he’s driving you home, though you try once again to beg him off.

Kitten, when are you gonna learn that so long as you’re carrying his and ‘Zashi’s child, they’re going to go out of their way to make things easier for you – whether you want them to or not.

Yet your quiet discomfort on the drive home doesn’t slip past his attention. Maybe it’s because he’s become accustomed to your nervous rambling, but there’s something odd about the way you’re sitting so quietly, fingers twisting in your lap as you stare out the window. He knows that if Hizashi was here, he’d be chatting your ear off, but he’s never been one to fill silence with unnecessary small talk.

Though he can’t exactly help the way his own mind drifts. Are you in pain? The Doc didn’t say anything about there being any pain, only that you should rest over the next few days, so it shouldn’t be that. Perhaps you’re just lost in your thoughts – it’s strange for them having a surrogate, he can only imagine what’s going through your own head now that it’s actually begun. He hopes that you aren’t having second thoughts, almost opens his mouth to ask before thinking better of it.

You’re entitled to your thoughts and feelings, whatever they may be, and if you wanted to talk to him about them, you would. 

It’s not until the scenery outside starts to change and the fancy sky-scrapers give way to dingy apartment blocks and dilapidated buildings, crammed in together too tightly that he realises that it’s not discomfort that’s written across your face, but embarrassment.

This was your neighbourhood?

Shouta recognises it, and really he should have picked up on it earlier when you’d given him the address – he’s spent more than a few nights patrolling the area. It’s a hotspot, not for the high-class, dangerous villains plastered across the news every night, but thieves and murderers. Petty thugs who prey on the weak, those addicted, with nowhere else to go… you live here?

Surely with the money you’re getting from the agency, and your job on top of that, you can afford a better neighbourhood.

He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, watches as you all but shrink into your seat, and when you speak, your voice is little more than a whisper.

“You can just drop me off at the corner here.”

He pulls the car to a stop by the curb, and for a moment neither of you speak. He doesn’t know what to say, and judging from the way you’re nibbling on your bottom lip and glancing up at him, you don’t either. 

“I–”

“Thank you,” you cut him off with a tight smile. “For coming today, and for… this. I-I really do appreciate it.” 

The words aren’t quite sincere, but he only nods – noting the miniscule sigh that escapes your lips at the action. “Of course. Anytime you need us, just call, okay.” He waits for you to nod before continuing, “Do as the Doc said, rest.”

You all but scamper from the car after saying another goodbye, though Shouta waits until you’ve disappeared into the crumbling apartment block before driving off.

Maybe the inside is nicer, but he sincerely doubts it.

—

“You should’ve seen it, ‘Zashi.” The two of them are curled up on the love-seat, half empty containers of takeout littering the coffee table in front of them. “I just can’t figure out why she’d be living somewhere like that.” 

The blonde frowns. He’d been messaging you throughout the afternoon, so he knew that the appointment had gone fine. It wasn’t that he expected to come home and find the erasure Hero jumping for joy, but the subtle discontent on Shouta’s face had been enough to make him pause. 

“You’re worried about our ‘lil songbird?” he asks, pushing away just enough so that he could turn to study his face. 

The short nod says plenty. Of course he is – even if you weren’t potentially carrying his child, you’re young, beautiful and far too innocent for your own good. In places like that, you were easy pickings, and you don’t even have a Quirk to protect yourself. His job requires him to assess his students’ strengths, their failings and weaknesses and their progress. He doesn’t need to see you in action to know that you wouldn’t be able to hold your own in a fight. 

It bothers him. 

“She’s not safe there.”

Hizashi hums, but instead of settling back against his husband’s side, he straightens up further. “Well, why don’t we go take a look-see, huh handsome? Make sure our sweet thing’s pad’s all safe ‘n sound, put your mind at ease. Whaddya say?”

As he stares into those imploring green eyes, Shouta knows that he should say no. 

Concerned or not, there’s still a line, privacy that should be respected. He’s tired and this is the only night that they both have off this week. Your place is almost twenty minutes from theirs, and it’s already late – almost midnight. The list goes on, there are a thousand reasons that he should say no.

“Fine. Just for tonight.”

—

Two weeks later, the two Heroes receive a call from the agency; the blood test came back positive – you’re pregnant. 

In the blink of an eye, at least to Shouta, this becomes startlingly real. You’re pregnant. They’re going to have a baby. Boy, girl, it doesn’t matter… You’re pregnant, and as his husband ends the call and yanks him by his collar into a fierce kiss, he realises how important this is.

How important you are, just by the virtue of carrying their baby.

They invite you over for dinner to celebrate, and while he’s never been one to flaunt the comfortable lifestyle he and Hizashi have, he does find it strangely pleasing to watch you wonder wide eyed through their apartment. He’d be the first to admit it’s big – bigger than they’d ever probably need, though with the baby on the way maybe they’ll finally be able to make use of all that extra space.

Mic grabs you by the hand, eagerly dragging you towards the nursery he’s already begun setting up. “Once I heard the good news, I just couldn’t wait to get started! Our little rockstar’s gonna have the sweetest crib, don’tcha think? Ain’t it amazing?” 

He’s already started painting and there’s a wooden cot halfway assembled and the beginnings of a musical mobile pushed off to the side waiting for him to return to it. It’s hardly close to being finished, but you just grin, gazing at the mural he’s started on the walls. “It’s amazing,” you say.

“I knew ya’d like it!” he beams.

Shouta hangs back as Hizashi guides you through the rest of the apartment, chattering excitedly away. He likes seeing his husband happy, and somehow you manage to bring it out of him without even trying. It’s still early days but Shouta has to admit that already you’re more to him and Hizashi than he expected, or even anticipated. You fit well with them, seamlessly, as if you’d always been a part of their lives.

After dinner, they drive you home despite your protests, and Hizashi insists they walk you up to your apartment. You’re no doubt under the impression that they’re doing it to be gentlemanly, missing the shared looks between the two men as they pass the out of order elevator and tread down hallways with stained carpet and peeling wallpaper, ignoring the leering yellow eyes of your neighbour, peeking out from the crack in the doorway as they bid you goodnight, ‘Zashi squeezing you extra tight.

There’s an uncharacteristic hardness in his husband’s eyes as they both slip back into the car, “No way in hell are we lettin’ her stay here.”

On that at least, there’s no arguments from him.

—

Hizashi, unsurprisingly, is the one to bring it up.

The three of you are grabbing a bite to eat after your first ultrasound. This time, both of them had been insistent on being there, and he’s glad they were. Seeing that grainy image of their baby, hearing it’s heartbeat – strong and steady – had filled him with an emotion he’d never felt before.

It was happiness and excitement and wonder and awe all mixed up and wrapped into a gut punch that stole his breath away, and while Hizashi had burst into a loud fit of tears, burying his face in Shouta’s neck while reaching for your hand, he’d managed to keep his own at bay.

Mostly. 

Regardless, you have little choice but to indulge them when they drag you out to one of the blonde’s favourite restaurants – on the proviso that they had you home in time to get ready for work.

“Songbird, there’s something the two of us have been meanin’ to ask ya.”

You perk up a little, hastily swallowing down your mouthful of food so you can reply, “Oh?”

He wonders if you notice the way your hand already instinctively drifts to your stomach, your barely there baby bump. 

“Why’re ya livin’ in a place like that, sweetheart?” You freeze, the corners of your smile slipping, but Hizashi continues, “Ain’t the money from the agency enough? We know you’re working that other job as well… we just…”

Shouta can physically feel you tensing like a bunny caught in a trap, and he doesn’t know what possesses him to reach out, sliding a hand across the table as you pale, but you take it regardless. 

“Talk to us. Please,” he begs. “We just want to understand what’s going on. You have to realise that it’s not exactly a safe neighbourhood, and it’s not just you we have to worry about anymore.” Dark eyes flicker pointedly towards your stomach. 

It’s a dirty tactic, but that doesn’t mean it’s not the truth. Did you realise how much danger you were truly in? Not just from the common street thugs – though frankly he thinks it’s nothing short of a miracle that you’d managed to get this far unscathed – but any number of villains with a grudge against either one of them, or Heroes in general. If they found out a pretty, quirkless thing like you was carrying their baby, how long do you think it would take before they tracked you down and kicked through your door?

Your eyes flicker between the two of them, and you swallow shakily. “I-it’s…” you break off, taking a deep, steadying breath, “It’s all I can afford right now.”

“But, hun, what about–”

“I know,” you say. “The money for the surrogacy isn’t for me. It’s money I owe.”

Neither Hero speaks a word as you talk, telling them about your uncle, the man who raised you, how his business went under a few years back and you both lost almost everything.

Shouta isn’t surprised to find out that your uncle turned to loan sharks when the banks turned him away and threatened to take your house. Alarmed at the man’s blatant stupidity, yes, but not surprised. Your eyes start to water when you tell them about how he died a few months back – a hit and run –  and the visit you were paid only a week later, informing you that your uncle’s debts were now yours, and payment had better come through quick. 

Your hand’s trembling in his by the time you finish. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t have any options, I didn’t know how else to get the money, and they said that i-if I didn’t pay up, they-they’d–” a sob catches you unawares, and once again it’s Hizashi who’s out of his seat and at your side in a heartbeat, sliding into the booth beside you, pulling you into a one armed embrace. 

It’s his eyes that you meet, and Shouta understands. He doesn’t need you to explain what threats were made. You were scared, terrified probably, and you had every right to be. 

“I didn’t know what else to do,” you sniffle. “I’m sorry for lying to you.”

Really, he should be furious. Disappointed at the very least. 

“Move in with us,” he says instead, ignoring your sudden, startled intake of breath. “At least until the baby comes.”

He should be, but this works better.

—

It takes a little longer than he’d like to convince you, but the two of them wear you down and a few weeks later Shouta finds himself carting boxes of your things up into the spare room in their apartment.

Despite the fact that you’re pregnant with their baby, you’re terrified of being a burden to the two Heroes, but it’s because of the baby that you eventually relent.

They want to be close, involved. They want to know that you’re safe – and their apartment’s state of the art security system will make sure of that when they’re not home with you. They want to make sure that you’re not exerting yourself, that you’re eating the right things and not running yourself ragged at a job you don’t need, stressing yourself out needlessly and putting the baby at risk.

All of that’s true. 

It’s just not the entire reason. 

At first, he convinces himself that it’s for Hizashi, as well as his own peace of mind, but he’s starting to wonder if that’s the full truth of it. Because of course he wants to keep a close eye on the pregnancy – he knows that this can’t be easy on you. You have no family left, and if you have any friends then they’ve done an excellent job of keeping you at arm's length. 

You have nobody but them, and it does bring him some modicum of peace to know that you’re just down the hall if anything goes wrong. 

Hizashi adores having you there with them, having somebody else to cook for, somebody to come home to at the end of a long day. More than a few times, they’ve both returned from a night of patrolling to find you curled up on the couch, fast asleep with a blanket over your legs and a book slipping from your fingers, having tried, and failed, to wait up from them.

You tune into Mic’s radio show on the nights you can’t sleep, and on the odd mornings that you wake up before either of them, they come downstairs to find bacon sizzling away in the pan, a pot of coffee already brewing. There’s something oddly charming about the way you pout while you pour it for them, knowing you can’t have any yourself.

“You’re a special kind of masochist, ya know?” Hizashi teases, sidling up beside you to grab a cup.

You sigh dejectedly. “I must be,” you reply as he plants a kiss on your cheek and squeezes your side affectionately, but it’s impossible to miss the sparkle in your eyes. You’re happy here, with them. 

Shouta warns you from pushing yourself too much, but even he can notice the apartment’s tidier when they arrive home than when they left, the freshly baked goods sitting on the countertop that weren’t there yesterday.

“I just… I know I can’t pay you back for all of this, I just wanna make myself useful,” you tell him one night when he asks about it. “I still feel like I’m taking advantage of the both of you, staying here…”

“You’re carrying our baby, that’s enough,” he reminds you, his calm, steady voice brooking no disagreement. And yet, as dark eyes study your face, he can tell that it’s not enough for you, so he sighs, and in a quiet voice adds, “We like having you here.”

He likes having you there. Sitting at the dining room table, helping him grade papers, lounging around on their rare days off together – helping Mic set up the nursery, volunteering to go shopping with them for baby stuff. He’s lost count of how many pregnancy books you’ve bought, pouring over them with a fine tooth comb late at night – often falling asleep in the process, leaving him and Hizashi to carry you off to bed with a barely there kiss to your forehead.

You fit between them in a way he hadn’t quite expected. Not a burden, not an interloper, but as if there was always a place carved out for you with them, and it’s only now that they realise that there was something missing to begin with. 

It doesn’t quite click until he finds his thoughts drifting towards you at work, his fingers drumming along the top of his desk so he can stop himself from reaching for his phone. He’s not usually so distracted teaching, and as the hours drag he finds himself glancing towards the clock on the wall, counting down the hours, minutes, until the day is done and they can return home to you.

Shouta can’t pretend for much longer that there isn’t something oddly satisfying watching your belly grow and your breasts swell as your pregnancy goes on. You’re glowing, and soft and beautiful, and he could kid himself and say that it’s just the normal effects of pregnancy, but there’s some part of him that’s strangely proud when your shirt rides up and he catches a glimpse of your baby bump – knowing it’s his child you’re carrying. His and ‘Zashi’s and yours.

And oh, he wishes that it was only pride that burns through his veins at the sight of you, barefoot and pregnant, pottering around the apartment. Hizashi’s the one to hold back your hair and rub your back soothingly when your morning sickness hits, but it’s Shouta who takes care of you when you start complaining about aching muscles and joints.

He tells himself that it’s purely about comfort, namely yours, ignoring the way you flush and stutter when he drags you up the stairs and pushes you gently towards the bed, telling you to lie down on your side. 

It’s just a massage, yet the moment his fingers run along your soft skin and a breathy moan slips from parted lips, the very last vestiges of the facade he’d built up in his head crumble into dust. 

You’re perfection. Bared and beautiful beneath him, making the prettiest noises for him as he works away at your muscles, expertly releasing all of your tension. He’s glad that your eyes are shut and you’re lost to the bliss, you don’t notice the way his breath hitches and becomes rough and heavy, the way his cock twitches in his sweats, blood flowing south as you arc into his touch. 

Such a responsive little thing, aren’t you?

“You’re amazing,” you moan, and though you can’t see that either, Shouta smirks. “Please never stop.”

It’s a good thing he has restraint, because it’s taking absolutely all of his to stop himself from taking more. 

He wants all of you. 

Wants to tease and taste.

Take.

Wants to hear those pretty fucking moans take the shape of his name… Hizashi’s name.

And maybe he might have felt guilty for those perverse thoughts, for the way he wants to tear the rest of your clothes off and fuck you nice and proper, breed you–

If his husband hadn't been standing by the door, watching the two of you for the last ten minutes. Shouta doesn’t need to look to know that it’s not anger or jealousy burning in his gaze.

He knows that his husband’s far from disgusted, knows it from the way Hizashi grabs his wrist on his way back down the hallway, pulling him instead to their bedroom and shoving him back onto the mattress with a wicked grin.

There’s something positively feral in the blonde’s expression as he hovers over him, forcing Shouta back down with a hand splayed across his chest, the other reaching down to his sweats to free his aching, needy cock.

“You’ve been holding out on me, baby,” he sings.

—

They have time.

Your due date is still months away, and you’re comfortable, here with them. 

There’s no reason for you to consider leaving until the baby’s born, and Shouta is adamant about keeping it that way. Hizashi can huff and puff and moan all he likes, he knows that they have to take this thing with you slowly. He won’t risk spooking you and losing any chance they have.

That’s not to say that he doesn’t empathise with the blonde, what with all the affectionate hugs and touches you thoughtlessly bestow, the way you’ll plonk yourself down on the couch between them so they can feel when the baby’s kicking.

Hizashi’s gotten to the stage where he’ll drop to his knees to shower your stomach in kisses when he gets home of an evening before sweeping you up into a hug of your own, his face a mask of perfect innocence when he catches sight of his husband’s less than impressed expression over your shoulder. 

Having you here with them, this little temporary faux family dynamic the three of you have found yourselves in is easy, domestic and nice. It should be enough, but it’s not.

“It’ll be weird, going home after this,” you hum absentmindedly one night.

Preoccupied with the noodles you’re toying with in your bowl, you miss the sharp look shared between both men.

“Whaddya mean, sweetheart?”

If you notice the odd stiffness to the words, you pay it no mind, simply shrugging. “I mean once the baby’s born. I dunno, I think I’ve become too comfortable here freeloading off of the two of you…” you glance up, smiling a little. “Going back to work and finding a place on my own again, starting fresh, it’ll be different, that’s all. Not bad different,” you hasten to clarify at the blonde’s nearly stricken face, “just… different.”

“Well it’s not like we’re gonna be forcing ya out, hun! You’re always welcome to jam with us for as long as you want.”

You shake your head with a rueful little laugh, “We both know I can’t do that. You’ll have the baby to worry about and the last thing I want is to feel like some awkward interloper, always getting in the way – especially after everything you guys have done for me.”

Hizashi’s fingers dig into the meat of his thigh, tightening with every word out of your mouth.

“No,” you say, shaking your head. “I’m not saying I’m never going to come around to hang out or anything, but once this baby comes I’m gonna have to figure out what I’m going to do with my life.” Your eyes meet his, wide and hopeful, and Shouta’s reminded once again of just how young you really are. “I can go anywhere, do anything. It’s kind of exciting, don't you think?”

It was a mistake, to think that you’d come around to them on your own. 

You were young and naive, still living out a rose tinted fantasy where the world was your oyster and all you needed to do was reach out and take it. And maybe he’s partially to blame for that, taking your problems and getting rid of them, making you feel safe and comfortable, not realising that that security didn’t extend outside of these four walls, outside of their protection.

They need you, but kitten did you ever stop to think that you need them, too? 

Shouta had made the mistake of forgetting how this all came to be – you hadn’t wanted a family, you were just trying to save your own skin. You still think that you can make it on your own, without them. 

He supposes he shouldn’t blame you for your misplaced idealism, it’s only natural after all. Some people just don’t know what’s best for them.

They need to be shown.

—

You don’t stir as your bedroom door swings open. 

Not as Hizashi pulls back your sheets, groaning softly at the sight of your swollen breasts and precious baby bump, stretching against the confines of your silk pajamas. “Ain’t she a fuckin’ dream, Shou?”

Not as the blonde busies himself in carefully sliding your sleep shorts down your legs, or even as Aizawa gathers up your wrists, pressing a kiss to each one, and binds them to the headboard with his capture weapon.

“Gentle, ‘Zashi,” he murmurs when the blonde crawls up on the bed beside you. “Nothing too rough.”

You wake as long fingers caress your cheek, tilting your face towards him so he can kiss you properly.

Shouta hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights, but bathed under the soft glow of moonlight from your window, he watches your eyes flutter open, the momentary confusion that flashes across your face followed by realisation, horror, as you try to jerk back and cry out–

Only Hizashi doesn’t give you the opportunity, winding his hand through your tresses and anchoring you against him, forcing your lips open so that he can deepen the kiss and groaning appreciatively when a terrified whimper escapes you. 

You still haven’t noticed Shouta kneeling on the bed between your legs, too preoccupied by Hizashi’s tongue sliding against yours. “Relax, kitten,” he says, laying his palm on your thigh, letting his thumb glide over the smooth skin.

“Let us take care of our cute ‘lil baby mama, yeah songbird?” Hizashi adds, breaking away from the kiss with a lovesick grin.

Tonight is solely about you. Your pleasure, whether they have to tease it from you willingly or not.

Your tears are kissed away, your broken little pleas swallowed under ‘Zashi’s greedy lips as Shouta shuffles down the bed, nudging your thighs further apart so he can lie between them.

The keening cry that leaves you at the first stroke of his tongue against your warm sex is a thing of beauty.

Blood rushes to his cock as you writhe, and he tightens his grip as much as he dares to keep you locked in place as he delves in again. There’s little finesse to the way that Shouta eats your pussy – it’s a simple study of reactions; the way you gasp and shudder when the tip of his tongue circles your clit, the way your pussy clench and quiver around the muscle when he eases it inside of you, massaging your spongy walls.

Never one to be left out, Hizashi decides that there’s a better use of his attention than just your lips. With your arms bound, he’s not able to take your top off entirely so he settles with yanking it down, freeing your breasts.

“Fuck baby, you’re so pretty. Look atcha!”

Your tits must be tender and aching, because the moment Hizashi’s mouth envelops one of your nipples, sucking at the pert nub, a fresh sob bursts from your lungs and you’re trying desperately to wriggle away.

Hizashi just frowns, breaking away for a second to brush a stray lock of hair back behind your ear, “Ah shit, sorry babe! I’ll be gentle, promise.”

Shouta’s far too preoccupied by the intoxicating taste of your sweet cunt to notice whether he actually does or not, but he trusts him not to push you too far. There’ll be plenty of time for that later.

Your baby bump is cute and all, but Shouta wishes that it wasn’t blocking his view of your face – he wants to watch every little expression as he slides two thick fingers into your dripping cunt and your hips buck up to meet him. It’s a twisted kind of pride he feels, pride fused with filthy, maddening pleasure as he pulls a string of choked moans from you with just a few shallow thrusts of his fingers.

His jaw’s slicked with your juices, your cunt sucking his fingers deeper when he turns his attention back to your poor, neglected clit. He can tell that you’re close, not just from the needy whimpers and the way your muscles are tensing beneath him, but the desperate canting of your hips, rocking up against his face even as you beg for relief.

“Shouta, Shouta, please– oh god, please stop, p-please!”

He longs to wrap a fist around his throbbing cock, desperate to help relieve the burning ache deep in his gut as you cum for the first time on his tongue. Or better yet, maybe have Hizashi wrap that perfect mouth of his around his cock and suck him off–

But now’s not the time for him to be greedy. 

Rough fingertips prod at your walls, searching for that hidden little spot that’s gonna make you go wild–

You almost convulse when he finds it, and Shouta can’t help but smirk against your cunt as you tighten and quiver around his digits. With Hizashi playing with your tits, pressing hot, open mouthed kisses along your neck, Shouta’s lips wrapped around your clit, tongue flicking at the sensitive pearl as he suckles on it and long, thick fingers driving you to madness with each and every stroke, it’s too much for your poor, pregnant, oversensitive body to handle.

You cum with a strangled shriek, and Shouta almost moans at the flood of juices that gush from your trembling cunt onto his waiting tongue. 

“How’s she taste, baby?” Hizashi asks, green eyes blown wide, his own erection straining against his leather pants. 

Shouta doesn’t waste a beat, pushing himself up with one arm and grabbing his husband’s wrist with the other, yanking him into a fierce kiss – letting him taste your honeyed juices on his tongue.

Fingers tangle in dark locks, tugging him closer, and ‘Zashi lets out a low, throaty groan. It’s rough and eager, a slow burning frenzy that makes the blood in his veins sing with excitement. With their lips still locked, the blonde hastily yanks at the zipper on his pants, freeing the painfully hard member with a tight hiss. 

But when he finally does break for air, it’s not Shouta that he addresses, but you, lying spent, crying and breathless between them, beautiful in your fucked out state.

“You can’t expect to put on a show like that and not get me all worked up, sweet thing,” he coos, taking his flushed, throbbing cock in hand and giving it a few slow, cursory pumps. “I’m gonna fuck ya so good, baby – have you singin’ like a little birdie for me,” his eyes meet Shouta’s, a wicked smirk tugging at his lips. “Nothin’ but the best for our cute ‘lil wife. Whaddya say, songbird? Lemme make you feel all nice and special, yeah?”

[nomsugayoongi]

Make up/Make Out!

Pairing: Jungkook X OC fem

Warnings: It's just smut. Pure smut. 🔞

A/N: Written and edited on a phone so please forgive any mistakes. Suggestions for more are very welcome and also thoughts. Let me know what you think.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Am I good to finish for the night?"

She'd been on her feet all day. As make up and hair assistant to one of the most popular groups on the planet, her job consisted of being ready at any moment, day or night, to get the guys of BTS camera ready. Today had been a particularly heavy day. Photoshoots and zoom interviews. You would have thought a global pandemic would have slowed her workload right down but apparently not. The boys were just as busy as ever, determined to remain a presence even when the world was falling apart.

"I'm not sure actually. I think one of the guys is maybe doing a live. Shouldn't take long, just a touch up. Let me go check." Another assistant hurried off, leaving her in what had been dubbed the "ready room" She sighed, sorting the array of make up products strewn on the counter into each boys respective make up bag. 7 individual colour palettes. 7 skin tones. 7 favoured brands. She'd been doing it long enough now that she didn't have to think anymore. Jimin's chapstick in one bag. Hobi's concealer in another. She was tired and frustrated. 16 months of a global lockdown meant she was now living in the guys home in the staff wing. Apart from video calls, she hadn't seen anyone and wasn't able to leave really. On the odd occasion when she did have to accompany the guys somewhere, she was subjected to regular covid tests. It was all just a little overwhelming. Like much of the planet, she was beginning to feel a little stir crazy.

The door opened and the assistant from earlier poked her head round. "Jungkook is doing a live. He's on his way down now. Can you handle it or do you want me to stay?" She could see the hopeful look in her colleagues eye that she could go for the night. Sighing inwardly, she nodded. "I'm good. Enjoy the rest of the night. I'll see you in the morning." She said, faking a smile. An immediate thankful grin was aimed in her direction before her co-worker quickly dissapeared. She sighed again, picking out Jungkooks bag and rifling though it. A V Live wasn't as intense as actual interviews. She'd maybe need to touch up his foundation and neaten his hair. With any luck she could be done in 10 minutes.

She was just about finished setting up when the door opened again. She turned with a welcoming smile but frowned a little as he walked in. His hair was wet, a towel still slung around his shoulders, face completely bare. "Have you just showered?" She muttered. He nodded, strolling over to his favourite chair and slumping in it. "Yeah. I wasn't going to bother with a live but it's been ages and I miss ARMY. Plus I feel kind of restless tonight." He explained. She nodded, a little frustrated that she'd have to entirely redo his face and hair. So much for 10 minutes. But it was her job after all. "So what are we doing?" She questioned, walking up behind him and leaning on the chair, a hand either side of his shoulders. He shrugged, looking at her through the mirror in front of him. "Whatever you want. Just make me look ok for the live." He replied. She chuckled slightly, studying him through the mirror. "You already look ok for the live. But I'll dry your hair. It's freezing in the office. Can't have you catching a cold." She smiled. He chuckled, pulling his phone out of the pocket of his baggy cargo pants and loading up a game. She smiled a little more. Typical Jungkook.

She got to work, removing the damp towel from around his shoulders, tossing it aside and reaching for the hairdryer. It didn't take long to dry. His hair was fine but he had a lot of it and luckily he didn't bleach it into the ground like some of his band mates so it was pretty healthy. Once dried, it was soft and shiny, falling prettily around his face. "Want it straightening?" She asked, digging her fingernails between the dark brown strands at the crown of his head and ruffling it slightly. His hair naturally had a slight wave to it. He had dropped his phone into his lap and his eyes were closed. He liked the slight scratch of her fingernails. It felt nice. "Hmm?" He muttered. "Oh..yeah. Straighten it." He opened his eyes with a sigh. "Are you alright?" She asked softly. "Yeah. Bit of a headache. The scratching was nice." He replied, a small smile playing around his lips. She chuckled, setting down the hairdryer and diving her fingers into his hair, raking her nails lightly across his scalp. Head massage wasn't exactly part of her job description but she had a soft spot for Jungkook. Her tummy filled with warmth as his head to lolled forward and he grumbled softly, eyes closing again. She couldn't help but smile, pressing her fingers to his temples and rubbing in slow circles. "Do you need painkillers?" She asked softly. He grumbled again but shook his head a little. "Nah. Already feels a bit better." He muttered. "Tension headache?" She questioned. "Probably." She diverted her rubbing to his hairline, digging her thumbs into the nape of his neck. His head rolled heavily against her hand, a relieved moan slipping past his parted lips. She watched him in the mirror, her stomach churning as she studied him. Reminding herself that she was working, she reluctantly dropped her hands, reaching for the straighteners. "So... we're straightning." She muttered. He cleared his throat, correcting his posture where he'd slumped down the chair. "Yeah." He nodded.

She ran the flat irons through his hair, alternating between looking at what she was doing and glancing at him through the mirror. "What are we doing with your face?" She questioned, applying a conditioning spray to his already silky soft hair, just so that the heat from the straighteners didn't make it frizzy. "Just make me look good." he said with a shrug. She grinned, picking up a clean powder brush, she spun him round to face her and booped the end of his nose with the brush. "Done" she smiled. He laughed, nose crinkling adorably. "You literally didn't do anything." She shrugged, placing the brush back on the counter. "You don't need anything doing." She said simply. He rolled his eyes, his ears turning pink. "I look like shit." He huffed. She was silent for a second, eyes flicking across his face. His hair was perfect, shiny and soft, skimming his large brown doe eyes. His nose was cute. His lips were full and though slightly chapped, kind of perfect too. Without foundation to soften his features, his jawline looked sharper. His skin was pretty good, the lack of make up making the cute moles dotted around his face clearer. The scar on his right cheek was more noticable but it gave his face character. "You really, really don't." She replied.

He shuffled shyly, fiddling with the phone abandoned on his lap. "I do. I look...plain. I can't go on camera like this." He muttered. She sighed, perching on the back of the sofa next to her. "Jungkook, you couldn't look plain if you tried. Trust me, if your ARMY see you like this they will lose their damn minds." She sighed, folding her arms across her chest. He glanced up at her, eyebrow hitching curiously. "See me like what?" He muttered. She shrugged, feeling somewhat uncomfortable at the things she didn't seem to be able to stop herself from saying. "Like...you. As you are. You've got that...thing...going on." She huffed. "What thing?" She rolled her eyes. "You know what thing. You give off heavy boyfriend energy. Especially when you look like this." She mumbled. He laughed, looking at her more intently. "Boyfriend energy?" She chuckled too, her face feeling hotter than she'd like. "Yeah. You know, that whole duality thing. It's cute. But it's sexy too." She babbled. "You think I'm sexy?" His eyebrows raised, his lips fighting a smile. "As your make up artist, I don't think anything." She chuckled. "And as you?" He questioned. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to look into his pretty eyes. "As me? I think you're one of the most confusing men I've ever met." She replied. His gaze was intense, forcing her to speak even though she wasn't actually sure she wanted to. "Confusing how?" He asked quietly.

She thought for a minute then shrugged. "Confusing in the way you play absolute havok with a woman and don't even seem to notice that you're doing it. You're such a contradiction. You're sweet and cute and warm. You're...soft and cuddly. The kind of guy who you want to snuggle and play with his hair as he sleeps. But you also have the ability to absolutely blow that out of the water and turn into this whole other creature. This...sinfully hot, dripping in sex appeal, gyrating menace. And you seem to be able to flip from one to the other and back in literally seconds. You're hormonal whiplash guy. One minute you wanna cuddle him, the next you wanna fuck him senseless, then back to cuddling. Confusing. But either way, whether you're cuddle guy or sexy guy, you're compeltely disarming. Captivating even." She paused, blushing at the heated expression on his perfect face. "So...you don't have to worry about what ARMY think. However you rock up, you're good." She finished with an awkward shrug. "Anyway, if you want me to do your face properly for the camera I will." She said, standing up off the back of the sofa and heading for her make up brushes.

"Woah. Hang on a minute. You can't just say all that and then pretend you didn't. Are you attracted to me?" He asked, smirking slightly, sexy guy definitely rearing his head. She tried her damnedest not to look at him. "Umm...you're attractive, yeah." She shrugged. "That's not what I asked." He hummed. "We've been in lockdown for 16 months. Everyone's attractive right now." She joked, trying to divert the gaze currently burning a hole through her professionalism. "You keep dodging the question." He pushed. She sighed, dropping the beauty blender she was currently picking apart and turning to him. "Yeah, I'm attracted to you. A large portion of the globe is attracted to you." She shrugged. "Yeah but I wasn't asking the globe. I asked you." He replied. "Well I answered. So are we doing your make up or no? It's late." She sighed, flustered. The way he was looking at her made her squirm. Curiously, but with something darker going on behind those doe eyes. "I don't know if I'm attracted to you. I've never thought about it." He muttered. She swallowed hard, looking everywhere but at him. "I didn't ask." She shrugged. "Yeah but after what you said, I can't just ignore it." He sat back in the chair, studying her. Her stomach twisted nervously. "You're cute. Short. I like that. You have nice hair. And your eyes are really pretty." He said absently, as though not actually talk to her, just assessing. She shuffled uncomfortably, her cheeks burning. "I like you. I'm just...not good at this sort of thing. I started training for BTS when I was 15. It didn't leave me a whole lot of time or opportunity to figure out the whole dating thing." He said, a hint of shyness dripping into his voice. "Oh please, I've seen you on stage. You can flirt like a pro." She scoffed. "Flirt, yeah. When it's empty. I can do it when I know it's not going anywhere. Flirting on stage isn't real. I'm not good when it is real." He shrugged. "I dunno...maybe we should...kiss..or something." He babbled. She gawped at him stupidly. "Easiest way to figure out what's going on here." He said, another shrug indicating his nerves. She swallowed, nodding slightly. "Ok." She didn't even really think about the answer, it just fell out.

He stood, shaking his hair out if his eyes, alternating between jamming his hands in his pockets and taking them out again. He was too cute. A kind of deer in the headlights look about him. The confidence he exuded on stage was nowhere near. He looked nervous. He took a few steps, closing the gap between them. Her heart was racing. He kept his hands limply by his sides as he inched forward, his eyes closing, a slight hitch of breath as his nose bumped hers then gently he pressed his lips to hers. His lips were warm and soft with just a hint of rough where they were chapped. Her heart rate doubled pretty much instantly, even at the lingering, closed mouthed peck. They weren't even really kissing but her stomach fluttered wildly. He shuffled a little closer, catching her bottom lip then the top lip then slowly opening his mouth a little more. His hands moved, running his fingertips up her arm, to her shoulder then resting on her neck, his thumb stroking her jaw. The other hand sat comfortably on her hip, pulling her into him just a little more. She sighed against his lips, her insides going nuts as her arms snaked around his narrow waist. Cautiously, he licked at her top lip, gauging her reaction. She opened up, allowing him to slide his tongue past her lips. A quiet involuntary moan escaped her. He tasted of sweetness and biscuit and she idly wondered if he'd been eating Pocky recently. The hand sat against her hip gripped a little harder. He exhaled heavily through his nose as his tongue caressed hers. He hummed against her mouth, withdrawing his tongue but still taking her lips in deep, lingering kisses, almost like he couldn't quite force himself to stop. With a long sigh, he pulled back, just enough to seperate their lips but still close enough for his nose to nudge hers. "Ok. Yeah. Definitely feel it." He whispered. Her eyes opened, her head fuzzy as she gazed at him with a mixture of affection and desire. She didn't even notice that he was looking at her the same way. He ran his fingers through her hair, a smile breaking onto his kiss reddened lips. She giggled dopily, forehead against his, heart skipping a beat at his responding giggle.

"Don't you need to go do a live?" She grinned. He shook his head, fingers entwining with hers. "It can wait till tomorrow. I just want to keep kissing you." His lips were on hers again before she could even process his reply. She moaned softly, melting against him. He felt sturdy and warm, he smelled amazing. He tasted delicious. He was almost too good. Her head swam at the feel of his tongue in her mouth, exploring, licking and tasting, possessing. He was literally making her weak at the knees. Her grip on him tightened, clutching at his steady frame to keep herself upright, genuinely worried that the depth of his heady kiss was going to send her slithering to the floor. She was just about managing to keep a tentative grasp on her composure until his lips left hers and started fluttering along her cheek, stopping just below her ear to suck the delicate skin there. A shiver bolted down her spine, her head rolling aside to give him more access. He moaned quietly against her neck, teeth nipping her skin. She gasped, another shiver errupting through her. "Damn it Jungkook" she whispered. She didn't know what she was damning. Everything? Nothing? It just seemed to be the only words she could claw from her addled brain. He bit a little harder, instantly soothing the slight burst of pain with a slow, tender lick of his soft, warm tongue. Her fingers knotted through his hair, dragging his head back so she could attack his mouth. He groaned against her lips, pressing his hips against her. She pulled his head back, her eyes locking on his. "You need to stop. I'm too horny for this shit." She panted, kissing along his jawline. He bit his lip, hand cradling the back of her head as her lips and tongue skimmed across his throat. "I can do something about that if you want." He murmured. She moaned again, temptation burning hot at her core. "Fuck" she hissed. He pulled her back from the assault she was carrying out on his neck. "Do you have a room mate?" He asked, brown eyes smouldering. She shook her head. "Where's your room?"

She could hardly believe how her night was turning out as she tried to make it to her room with some semblance of normality. Especially with Jungkook in tow. Luckily it was late enough that nobody was still wandering around in the hallways so the fact that she looked like she was about to eat him wasn't an issue. Arriving at her room, she'd barely closed the door behind them when he was back on her, pressing her into the door, lips on hers, hands wondering to her shirt, stopping the kiss barely long enough to pull it over her head before his tongue was back in her mouth. His hands agaisnt the door, either side of her head, boxing her in as he held her still with his body. She could already feel the uncomfortable ache between her thighs, heat pooling inside her making her squirm. How the fuck could he get her so riled up just by kissing her?

His lips moved down, back to the spot on her neck he seemed to enjoy biting, his teeth nipping and sucking once again. He was going to leave a mark and she absolutely didn't care. She hoped he did. She hoped he left several. If it meant he didn't stop, she'd happily have him suck and bite his initials into her skin if he wanted. His lips travelled further down, hands lifting off the door to cup her boobs, pushing them up and groaning in his throat as he licked languidly down her cleavage. He used his thumbs to tease her bra clad nipples, nipping and sucking at the swell of her ample breasts. She pushed his hair back, staring at him opened mouth as he moved her bra aside and wrapped his lips round her nipple. She moaned softly, biting her lip. He sucked deeply, the pull travelling straight down to her pussy, causing her clit to throb needily. His fingers tugging and rolling her other nipple. She wriggled desperately against the solid wooden door. He switched sides, giving the other nipple the same attention, his mouth felt hot and wet, tongue flicking quickly then slowly, then sucking then nibbling. Each gesture making her pussy clench.

She didn't know how much more she could take. The needy ache was becoming overpowering. Luckily he seemed to sense it, his hands slipping down, flicking the button of her jeans open. He eyed her quickly, requesting permission which was granted with an almost frantic nod. He smirked, hooking his fingers into her jeans and pushing them over her hips teasingly slowly. Her underwear went with them, balling together round her ankles. She couldn't even think enough to kick them off. He stood, leaning against the door with one hand, his eyes on hers as his fingers trailed lightly across her stomach then down, grazing her inner thigh. His smirk was torturous, knowing exactly what she needed and purposefully grazing but giving no relief. "Don't be a brat." She panted. He chuckled darkly, his fingers circling her bellybutton, the tickle making her abdomen clench. "This is what I was talking about. The duality. I like you more when you're being a bunny." She hissed. He laughed again. "No you don't." He muttered, pressing a searing kiss to her lips. "You've waited 16 months. What's an extra two minutes?" He smirked, his fingers once again playing around her inner thigh. "Jungkook I swear to god, I'm just gonna do it myself in a minute." She growled. He rolled his eyes, chuckling breathlessly. "Ok ok. Jesus."

He licked his lips, his smirk faltering as his fingers grazed her slit. "Fuck, you're already wet." He moaned. "Duh, I've been wet since you kissed me in the other room." She whispered. He bit his lip, groaning deeply, his fingers pushing through her folds, finding her clit quickly and circling. The ache tightened in her belly, her knees buckling. He dipped his fingers down against her hole, smearing her own sticky liquid around his fingertips before moving back up to her clit, his index and ring fingers parting her folds while his middle finger gently rubbed her sensative bud. Her breath shuddered, eyes closing as she swallowed thickly. Her head fell back, banging against the door. She was so turned on that his touch almost burned, so sensative already. He maintained a steady pace with his fingers, dipping back down occasionally to recover them in the fluid now leaking from her hole to make the glide of his fingertips smoother. She could barely breath. The stimulation of his careful touch on her clit was almost unbearable, causing the needy ache of her pussy to increase rapidly. She needed to be stretched and filled, her thoughts lost in how his fingers would feel slipping in and out of her greedy hole. Or better yet, his hard cock. She groaned, eyes rolling back as she felt his lips back on her neck. She gripped at his hair, inhaling through clenched teeth. "Jungkook, I need you to fuck me." She whined. He moaned, biting her neck again. "I'm going to. Just not yet." He muttered. She growled pathetically, writhing against the door as he maintained the steady torture with his fingers. She couldn't keep her hands still, grabbing at his hair and his shoulder and the door frame as the pleasure built from a subtle warmth to a searing heat, creeping though her limbs and making her weak. "Fuck...I can't.." she choked, not actually knowing what the end of the statement was. Can't stand it. Can't function. Can't breath. Can't wait. The gradual build of her orgasm was now rushing towards her with alarming speed, every careful brush of his fingertips nudging her closer. "Ahhh. Jungkook...fuck" she huffed. He smirked, lifting his head from her neck to kiss her.

It didn't fit. She expected him to ravage her mouth. He didn't. He kissed her softly, his tongue dancing across her lips, barely any pressure, his free hand coming up to stroke her cheek. Emotional whiplash man in full effect. The action of his fingers was making her wild but his kiss was sweet and soothing. It felt so strange to be kissed that way while being held on the very edge of an orgasm. The way he kept the same steady pace was vicious. She wanted him to speed up, go harder, follow the flow of her building release but he didn't. The slow build drew out her pleasure, his pace maddening. A rush of heat flooded through her, stilling her lips against his mouth, making her gasp for air as every muscle in her body constricted. She could hear her own pleasured wails but they didn't sound like any kind of noise she'd ever made before. Her eyes screwed shut, back arching off the door as her orgasm hit violently, heat coursing from her core and seeping though the rest of her body. She panted helplessly, spots dancing in front of her eyes, her muscles slowly realising. When her knees went, he had an arm around her waist to hold her up. "I've got you." He whispered, kissing her jawline softly. His fingers slowed as she began to shudder, instead moving to trace light, ticklish patterns on her thigh. Her head flopped heavily against his shoulder, fingers gripping at his back like he was the only thing keeping her in one piece. She didn't even notice him moving her until she felt herself sinking heavily into her bed. He laid beside her, chin resting in his hand as he smiled, using the other hand to move her hair off her face. She was quiet for a few minutes, slowly calming her ragged breathing down, enjoying the blissful tingles fading out. When her eyes could focus enough, she looked at him and whined quietly, her heart thumping painfully. He was beyond beautiful. A shaky hand lifted to brush a few strands of dark brown hair away from his pretty eyes. "Wow" she whispered. He chuckled, staring back at her. "You can sleep if you want to. I don't mind." He said softly, noticing her still dozy expression. She shook her head. "Don't wanna sleep. Just need a minute." She muttered. "Kiss me."

He did so immediately. She felt liked she'd kissed him so much yet it wasn't even nearly enough. He was the kind of guy you could lose hours of every day just attached to his face. It was something she would never tire of. Her fingers ran through his hair, sighing against his perfect lips. In her post orgasm haze, she just felt soft for him. Everything about him was so enticing, the pull of him overwhelming. She wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. She gripped him tighter than she needed to, suddenly afraid of what would happen when the night was over. He broke the kiss, frowning at her slightly. "What's wrong?" He whispered, fingers trailing across her swollen lips. She kissed his fingertips, holding onto his wrist as she looked at him. "I just...don't want this to end." She muttered. He smiled, rolling his eyes at her. "It doesn't have to." He said simply. She relaxed a little, returning his smile, then pulling him in for yet more kissing.

The kiss became heated pretty quickly. She'd already had an orgasm but he hadn't. He nipped at her bottom lip, hands roaming all over her. He was pretty notorious for his lack of patience and while he had decidedly more restraint in the bedroom, he wasn't a saint. He'd been hard the entire time he'd been fingering her and while he did get off on watching her pleasure, he was beginning to feel needy. He pushed his hips into her thigh, searching for some friction. She pulled away from his lips with a sullen pout. "Why do you still have so many clothes on?" She whined. He chuckled, pushing himself up into a sitting position and shrugging. "Because you haven't taken them off yet." He replied. She sat too, batting her eyelashes and kissing the end of his nose. "Well that's pretty shitty of me. I'm sorry." She joked, pulling his shirt over his head. She'd wanted to be cute and playful but Jungkook without clothes was no joke. She groaned, eyes lingering on his sculpted chest and tight abs. "Jesusfuck" she muttered, broad shoulders tapered down to a narrow waist, the dark ink circling his right arm contrasted strongly against his skin. She bit her lip, oogling him shamelessly.He chuckled, feeling a little bashful. She trailed her fingertips down his chest, her lip caught between her teeth as they skimmed past his belly button and down to the waistband of his cargo pants. With a flick, the button popped open and he lifted his ass to help her pull them off. She'd barely got them to his thighs when she let out another groan. He was hard. His cock straining against his black boxers, a wet spot at the head where pre-cum had soaked through the material. She abandoned her mission to remove his pants, feeling strangely compelled, almost like she had no control as she leant forward, peeling the tight band of his underwear back just enough to lick the head of his cock. He let out a soft yelp, obviously not expecting the sudden jolt of pleasure. "Shit" he whispered, his hands scooping her hair back from her face as he straightened out his legs and lifted his hips. His boxers were pushed down enough to free him from them. She moaned quietly, her tongue gliding from the base of his dick to the head, following the thick vein that spanned his length. "Fuck sake. Even your cock is pretty." She said huskily, illiciting a moan from him. Her fingers wrapped around his shaft, steering the head towards her lips. He watched, entranced as she slowly swirled her tongue over the head, gathering the sticky pre-cum then retreating back into her mouth, grumbling softly with closed eyes as she tasted him. When her eyes opened and fixed on his, his cock throbbed in her hand. With her hair falling around her face, her darkened, swollen lips parted, her eyes glassy, pupils blown, she looked hungry, lowering herself back down to lick the end of his cock again. He hissed, hands gripping tighter in her hair. "I want to fuck your mouth." He panted. She groaned, dropping his cock, it smacked against his belly as he kicked off his cargo pants furiously.

Once off, she threw a leg over his hips sitting across him as her hands tangled in his hair she she caught his lips in a fierce kiss. He groaned into her mouth, he could feel the heat of her wet pussy against his shaft. It took everything he had not to adjust the angle slightly and slide into her. He wanted to desperately but he also wanted to draw the night out as much as he could. He wanted her cock drunk and helpless by the time he'd finished. He could feel her wriggling, trying to rub herself against his cock as she kissed him. He moaned, shifting his position slightly so that his cock slid between her folds, gently rocking so that the head grazed her clit. She whined, breaking the kiss, her head flopping agaisnt his shoulder as she bucked against him. "Fuck me." She whimpered. He smirked, catching her earlobe between his teeth and nibbling softly. "Uh uh" he teased, still undulating his hips to rub his shaft against her clit. "Need you to help me first." He forced her head up, nipping her bottom lip between his thumb and index finger. "Need to fuck this pretty little mouth." He grunted. She moaned, nodding. He smirked, guiding her off him. She slid off the bed, falling to her knees and opening her mouth expectantly. He scrambled over, threading his fingers through her hair as he gripped his throbbing dick and guided it past her lips. He felt her warm, wet mouth engulf him and shuddered, his head falling back, his hips beginning to move slowly, thrusting his cock in and out of her soft mouth. She placed her hands on his muscular thighs, watching his face crease in pleasure as she let him literally fuck her mouth. Her tongue slithered all over his thrusting cock, her mouth filling with saliva as the head hit the back of her throat and she tried to swallow the urge to gag. She stayed still, feeling the needy ache between her thighs grow almost out of control as he used her mouth. His hands tugged at her hair, controlling her movement, sinking his cock deeper and deeper into her throat. Her eyes started to water, gasping for air between his thrusts as he lost himself. His moans initially breathy and quiet were getting louder and higher in pitch. His slow, methodical thrusts were getting quicker, more desperate as he babbled words of praise between moans. "Fuck. So good. Just like that. Yes. Yes." She felt his thighs tense, his muscles rigid. "Fuck, gonna cum. Don't wanna stop. Don't wanna stop." He whined. She moved one hand from his thigh, cupping his balls and squeezing softly. He mewled in surprise and suddenly she felt the spurts of hot cum fill her mouth. He shuddered viciously, hands pulling her hair painfully but unable to relax his clenched fists. She continued to gently run her tongue across the head of his dick, feeling it pulse and twitch as he emptied in her throat. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." He whimpered, his grip loosening. He'd barely stopped cumming when he untangled his hands and dropped down to his knees in front of her. "Are you alright?" He asked between gasps of air. She swallowed the mouthful he'd just given her and smiled. He'd literally just cum and his first action was to check on her. "I'm fine" she whispered, pulling his head against her shoulder where he crumpled pathetically, still panting and whining softly at the aftershocks of pleasure running though him. She ran her fingers through his hair, smiling. He was sweaty and the perfectly straightened hair she'd given him was now wavy and damp.

He allowed himself a few minutes to recover, his legs shaky and his lungs burning for air as the warm, tingly satisfying feeling of his orgasm flooded through him and gently eased. He liked the calming touch of her fingers in his hair and the cool feel of her skin against his burning flesh. He felt her pressing kisses to his shoulder and smiled, lifting his head to meet her eyes. "That was....so good." He chuckled. She grinned proudly. "Sorry I didn't warn you...or pull out. I wouldn't usually just cum in your mouth without asking but...fuck, I thought I could hold on a bit longer." He smiled. She giggled, shaking her head. "It's ok. I wanted you to." She grinned. "It was really hot. I really like doing that to you." She admitted. He grinned, curling a strand of her hair around his fingers. "You can do that to me whenever the fuck you want to." He laughed. "Don't tell me that. You'll spend your entire life with your dick in my mouth." She grinned. "Sounds good to me." He shrugged. They both laughed. He stood, offering his hand to pull her up too. He kissed her, standing at the end of the bed, naked bodies pressed together as his hands wandered up and down her back. He could taste himself of her lips and though the thought of it would usually make him feel kind of weird, he just found it incredibly hot. "You taste like my cum" he whispered against her lips, tongue delving deeper into her mouth. She moaned against his lips. "Are you trying to kill me?" She breathed. He chuckled, pushing her back gently until she collided with the bed and fell backwards onto it. "Maybe" he shrugged, crawling into the bed between her legs. She gasped, shuffling backwards. "What you doing?" She muttered. He pushed her legs apart, biting his lip as he looked unabashedly at her glistening pussy. "Hungry." He grunted, dropping down onto his elbows and kissing her thigh. "You're going to kill me." She hissed, watching him kiss closer to her throbbing core. "Shhh. I'm busy." He muttered, teasingly running his tongue along the crease where her leg met her groin. Her breath caught in her throat. Just the sight of his head between her legs had her pussy contracting.

"Jungkook, I..." He stopped her, mid sentence by swiping his tongue through her folds. "Oh my god." She panted. He smirked, another long lick from hole to clit, groaning as the taste of her tingled on his tongue. "Fuck. You taste so good." He murmured. He curled his arms around her thighs, spreading her legs further so that her pussy was open and on display. A groan rattled in his throat, his teeth clamping down on his bottom lip before he leant forward and flicked his tongue against her leaking hole, feeling the ring of muscle contract wildly, trying to draw something inside. "You need a cock in you, huh?" He muttered, talking to her pussy. He flicked his tongue once more watching the muscles contract again. "I know you're needy. Just wait a little longer. I need to make her cum again and then I'm all yours. Promise." He whispered.

She watched in amazement. He was nestled comfortably between her parted legs, talking to her vagina like it was a separate entity. She knew Jungkook had a habit of talking to inanimate objects, she'd seen him apologise to chairs when he'd walked into them and ask his food if it was cool enough to eat yet but she'd never imagined in a billion years that that extended to pussy too. When he spoke to chairs, it was adorable. When he spoke to her pussy, it was mind meltingly sexy. She kind of wanted to sit there, third wheeling while he had a whole ass conversation with it. Another flick of his tongue broke her thought then as his tongue fluttered up to her clit, her mind went completely blank. He ate pussy the way he ate noodles, slurping, sucking, lips and tongue. Repeat until insane. He didn't seem to care about the sloppy sounds or lip smacking. He was a noisy eater and she fucking loved it. He dived in enthusiastically and for a woman, there was nothing sexier than a guy who ate pussy because he loved it, not because he felt he had to. He groaned happily, his tongue everywhere, lips closing around her clit, sucking and licking her most sensitive spot until he had to tighten his grip on her thighs to keep her still. Her orgasm built quickly, her hips writhing as she clawed at the sheets beneith her, legs kicking involuntarily under his vice like grip. He moaned, forcing her legs up, his hands behind her knees as he hovered over her, head moving as he made out with her clit like it was her mouth. He didn't stop as her orgasm hit, sucking and licking at her pussy until she was convulsing, her cries somewhere between pleasure and distress. "AHHHH JUNGKOOK, PLEASE" she wailed. "Want me to stop?" He panted quickly, his tongue swirling against her overly sensative clit once again. "YES. NO. I DON'T KNOW" she squealed. It felt too intense. Almost painful. But so good. Unlike anything she'd ever felt before. Her past experiences had all ended as soon as she'd cum but apparently that didn't necessarily mean the end to Jungkook. She crushed the pillow to her face, barely muffling the strangled moans escaping her. "Oh fuck. I'm gonna cum again." She cried. This pleasure was different. Sharper. Her muscles burned, being tensed for too long but unable to relax under his persistent tongue. Her mouth dropped open in a silent scream, her vision went blank, her skin felt on fire and then the raging, hot, sharp pleasure eased. Her muscles slowly unwound and she practically melted into the bed. He was beside her without her even noticing him move. Gentle kisses peppered her face and he moved her sweaty hair back. "Just breath babygirl" he cooed. "Are you alright? Too much?" He whispered. She shook her head, grabbing for his hand and clutching it as her senses returned. "Need you in me." She growled, throwing the pillow aside.

Something about her last orgasm had snapped her resolve and even though the pleasent tingles still washed through her, she couldn't think of anything other than how empty she felt. She'd been craving his cock inside her since they'd kissed against the door and that was hours ago. She couldn't stand another minute of teasing and Jungkooks cocky smirk wasn't helping her any. "Ooh. I really drove you crazy." He teased. "Remind me to do that again..." He kissed her, his tongue teasing her lips and leaving the taste of herself behind, "..and again" He nibbled her bottom lip softly, "...and again!" He whispered. She glared at him as he smiled widely, his nose crinkling. "Don't bunny smile at me." She hissed. He laughed, trailing his fingers across her stomach. "I thought you liked the duality thing. That's what you said earlier." He grinned. "I do...but can you save the bunny bit until after you've fucked me." She whined. He laughed harder. "If you wanna fuck, I'm not stopping you." He shrugged. She eyed him for a second then pushed him onto his back, throwing her leg over his hips. He hummed appreciatively, biting his lip as his eyes roamed slowly down her body, taking his hard cock in his hand and rubbing it against her pussy. "Y'know, I've just had an orgasm. My legs are still wobbly. If you were a gentleman you'd do the work." She smirked, grinding against his cock. He laughed, raising an eyebrow. "Oh is that right?"

He sat up suddenly, sending her flying backwards, she screeched and giggled, grabbing onto his arms as he flipped them so that he was on top of her. He took her hands, pinning them either side of her head. "I was letting you take control cause you said you wanted to fuck. But now..." He paused, kissing her, groaning into her mouth as his tongue slid against hers. "...I'm in control...and I don't wanna fuck. I'm gonna go nice...and slow." He grinned as she started to protest, taking his dick in his hand and rubbing the end against her hole, chuckling as her words stopped instantly. "Yeah, thought that'd shut you up." He lined up, pushing forward, his eyes fluttering as he felt the soft slick heat stretch and swallow the tip. She tried to raise her hips but he pinned them down with a smirk, kissing her softly before resting his forehead against hers. "No baby. Slowly." He breathed, pushing forward a little more. He savoured the feeling of her tight, hot pussy accepting him inch by inch until his hips were flush against hers. He exhaled heavily, his eyes closing as he pressed his lips to hers hungrily. "Wrap your legs around me" he whispered, looking into her lust filled eyes. With her hips lifted, it changed the angle allow him even deeper. "Oh fuck" she grunted, her hands clenched against his shoulders. "Too deep?" He muttered. She shook her head. She felt stretched and filled completely. He was deep enough to make her toes curl. He withdrew just as slowly, whining, his mouth falling open and his brow creasing. "Oh shit." He groaned. He'd wanted to go slow. To tease her until she couldn't stand it anymore but he was the one who gave in first. She was hot and tight and velvety soft. His stomach tightened, his hips moving faster automatically. He kissed her desperately, moans mingling together along with their tongues. Every time he started to pull out, her walls clamped around him, holding and squeezing his throbbing cock. He could barely form a thought, feverishly driving his cock into her over and over as she moaned beneath him. He could feel her getting tighter and wetter. He forced his eyes open. "Look at me" he panted. Her eyes opened, glassy and unfocused. He moaned deeply, the pleasured expression etched on his face along with the sounds he was making only pushed her closer to release. He looked and sounded so fucking sexy, the perfect drag of his thick, hot cock, so hard, so deep, she'd never felt anything like it. She felt like everything about him was designed to please. "Jungkook..." she purred, her hips rolling and bucking in rhythm with his. "Fuck. I'm so close." He moaned. She bit her lip. His golden skin gleamed as sweat began to roll down his neck and onto his chest. Her back arched, the steady thrust of his cock pounding into her driving her closer and closer. She gripped his back, her nails clenching. He felt the bite of pain and hissed, thrusting harder. "Let go baby. Let me see you come undone one more time." He growled. It was like she didn't have a choice, her body simply obeying, her orgasm shattering through her. He felt it, the hard clench of her walls followed by the rapid pulsing, milking his cock, pulling his cum from him. His steady rhythm faltered, his head dropping onto her shoulder as he fucked through the pleasure, his cum spilling deep inside her making his thrusting sloppier. He was still twitching as his arms gave out and he flopped heavily down on top of her, gasping for air, his head swimming and buzzing. He could feel her hot, ragged breath against his ear. He wanted to move off of her, check she was ok, do something but he couldn't move. He felt heavy, his mind cloudy. He just about managed to throw his leg over her hips and slither beside her, dozily pulling her into his arms as he pressed soft, breathless kisses to her forehead. "Roll" he mumbled, tapping her hip. She forced herself onto her side, grumbling contentedly as he curled up behind her, spooning her. "I think I'm gonna pass out." She whispered, giggling weakly. He chuckled, his own eyes heavy, the urge to sleep clawing

at him insistently. "Sleep. I'm not going anywhere." He muttered.

[outerbankies]

begin again part 2: past is past — john b routledge

part 1

summary: you move on but your ex-boyfriend won’t, and john b and the rest of the pogues do not like it.

pairing: john b x reader, platonic pogues x reader

warnings: drinking, swearing, mentions of stalking/emotional abuse, mentions of sex

a/n: thanks for 200! back again with more simpy booker content for y’all. i wrote this first part so long ago! finally nailed down an idea for part 2 and finished it up. this is extremely cheesy and includes a lot of pogue bestie vibes. let me know what you think! ❤️

my writing

“JJ I swear to god, if you say one word—”

“Why don’t you want him to know?” JJ practically yells. He’s sitting in the passenger seat of your car, the two of you en route to the Chateau after a shift at work. A particularly terrible shift. You usually look forward to being scheduled at the same time as JJ, especially since you’d started dating John B and spending way more time with the pogues. They’d folded you into their family seamlessly, and you and JJ pretty much always rode together to the Chateau after you worked the same shifts.

“I just don’t want him to know, okay? He doesn’t need to know I can’t handle seeing my stupid ex-boyfriend for an hour.”

“Okay, but it wasn’t just seeing him. He was being a dick. I still think you should’ve let me beat him up,” JJ grumbles, leaning back and putting his boots on your dash board. You smack his leg until he puts them back down again.

“And if you tell John B, he’s going to wanna help you.”

“And?”

“And, idiot, DCS is already on his case everyday. We don’t need to attract anymore attention to him. Nate’s mom is rich as fuck.”

You pull up to the Chateau, parking in your usual spot and cutting the engine. JJ moves to get out of the car but you lock the doors, turning to face him.

“Please, JJ?”

JJ can hear the seriousness in your tone now, sighing reluctantly but still nodding. “Whatever, Y/n/n.”

“Thanks,” you say, letting him out of the car. You let JJ walk in ahead of you, no longer worried about him spilling your secret, and try to collect yourself for a minute before heading inside to see your boyfriend.

It seemed like ever since you started dating John B, your ex-boyfriend Nate was popping up everywhere. If you weren’t serving him and his friends at your work, he was intentionally seeking you out whenever your schools played each other at football. You were finally feeling normal again for the first time in months, partially thanks to your boyfriend and new friends, but Nate seemed determined to ruin your happiness any chance he could.

Your anxiety surfaced as soon as Nate came into the restaurant today, knowing it was hopeless to try and get him seated in another section. His mother was a respected member of the Club, and you know you couldn’t ask your hostess to go against what he asked. Which was of course to be served by ‘his favorite waitress.’ He always pulled that trick, coming in with a huge group of his guy friends who he’d let verbally harass you, of course joining in. And they always left a mess, didn’t finish any of their food or sent it back for requests they hadn’t even made in the first place, and barely tipped you over the built in gratuity. It was embarrassing dealing with their demands, and it was slowly causing more and more problems for you at work. Having JJ there was usually your saving grace; he’d always sneak out back with you for a smoke break and tell you to cheer up. But after the third sent-back-order had reduced you to humiliated and frustrated tears, you and another one of the line cooks had to physically restrain him from banging through the kitchen door, your manager letting the two of you off early.

But you’d so far avoided another confrontation between John B and Nate. Based on how the two of you met, and how you’d grown to know John B as a person, you could tell it wasn’t something you wanted to happen again. He was the type to go to bat for anyone he cared about, and you loved that you were now included in that group. But you couldn’t let something as trivial as your idiotic ex-boyfriend put his entire situation in jeopardy.

So it’s with that knowledge in mind you head into the Chateau, ignoring JJ where he had already sat down on the pull out couch, seeking out your boyfriend. You hear rummaging in the kitchen, accounting for Pope and Kie already chilling in the backyard, hoping to see your boyfriend there. And there you find him, crouched down in front of the fridge door. He straightens up when he hears footsteps, his features lighting up when he sees that it’s you.

“Hi, angel,” he smiles. “How was work?”

Your favorite pet name, his sweet face, his question about your day. It was all too much; you immediately tear up, walking forward into his waiting arms. He’d never seen you cry before, but he was immediately in action, rubbing your back and holding you close to his chest.

“Hey hey hey, what’s wrong?” he murmurs, he looks behind you, making eye contact with a pissed off JJ. “Do you know what happened?”

“Sorry, Y/n/n,” he begins, but you don’t even care anymore. Your facade crumbled the second John B had you in his arms. “Nate came by the restaurant today.”

“He what?” John B gently pushes you back by your upper arms, his eyes searching your face. When you don’t deny it he stands up straight, no longer bending at the waist to get a better look at you. You chance a look up at him and his neck is growing red, his jaw tense. “Then why are you crying? What did he say to you? Did he hurt you?”

“God no, John, please calm down,” you beg, wiping your eyes with the sleeve of your shirt.

“He just—”

“JJ, what did he do?”

“No, stop,” you say. “I’m telling you. He just comes in with his friends and always gives me a hard time.”

“Always? Like this has happened multiple times?”

“John B—”

“JJ?”

“Like at least five times at this point. At least while I’ve been there.”

“Babe,” John B chides. “What?”

“JJ, I literally hate you.”

“Yeah, that’s my cue,” he says, getting up to head into the backyard with the others. He pats your head on his way out.

“Was he still there when you left?” John B asks, already walking to the front door to pull on a pair of shoes. “Even if he left, he can’t have gotten far, right?”

“No,” you say, placing yourself in the doorway.

“He needs to know he can’t just mess with you like that and get away with it. Or he’ll just keep doing it, Y/n—kooks are all the fucking same.”

“John, Nate’s mom is way too important at the Island Club. And he’s a little bitch so he’d press charges if you even breathed on him.”

“Let him, I don’t care! I’m gonna do a lot more than breathe on him if he’s been messing with you for weeks, Y/n/n,” he says, cracking his knuckles.

“No, you’re not,” you say, pushing him all the way into the backyard where your other friends are. “JJ, a little help?”

“Ooh!” The blonde shoots up out of his folding chair. “Are we going to kick his ass?”

“Yes,” John B points at him.

“No! Oh my god,” you groan. “Pope can you please explain to them why they can’t?”

“You can’t,” Pope says. “I don’t know who we’re talking about or what you can’t do, but Y/n has more brain cells than both of you combined so I’m automatically on her side.”

“What are we talking about?” Kie asks from beside him.

“Y/n’s ex-boyfriend won’t stop stalking her at the Island Club,” JJ says, unbuttoning his uniform polo. “He’s a fucking dick.”

“Exactly, so we’re going to go show him he can’t mess with her.”

“Nate?” Kie asks, eyes widening. You nod. “No, you can’t do that. You’ll both end up in jail if his mom has anything to do with it.”

“That’s three to two,” Pope points out. JJ sighs, falling back into his chair. John B just scoffs, storming off to the hammock at the other end of the yard.

“John B—”

“Let him cool down,” Kiara suggests. “He’s not gonna go if you don’t want him to—he’s just really protective of all of us, especially you. Have a drink?”

—

An hour later, your lukewarm beer sits half finished in your hand. You’re too concerned with John B to indulge with your friends, who’ve all started a drinking game of some sort. John B’s still sitting in the hammock, swaying back and forth lightly in the summer breeze. You approach him from behind, running your hand through his hair. He stubbornly ignores you for a second, before you’re calling for him softly, “John B.”

He finally looks up at you.

“M’sorry,” he mumbles.

“No you’re not.”

“No, I’m not,” he agrees easily. You walk around the tree to sit next to him, settling into his side as he uses his foot to rock you back and forth.

“John B, I’m just trying to protect you.”

“You shouldn’t have to. It should be the other way around.”

“Okay, back up,” you scoff. “What is this, the ‘50s?”

“I didn’t mean it like that, Y/n/n, c’mon,” he strokes a hand down the back of your head, tugging on your low pony tail. “You’re just—you’re so fucking sweet, I don’t know how the prick ever got you in the first place. And it bothers me that he’s been screwing with you when I’m not around and I never knew.”

You lean in to kiss his cheek. “I know. But JJ’s usually there, and I think he’s the only person who hates kooks more than you.”

He smiles but it doesn't reach his eyes. “And when he's not?”

You don't say anything.

“What if you quit your job?” he asks, but he knows the answer.

“That's a little dramatic. And I need the money, John B, you know that.” You settle your head into his neck, turning to watch the sunset over the water.

“Just want you to be okay. You'll let me know next time it happens?”

You nod tentatively. “It won't, just let it go.”

He’s glad you’re not looking at him anymore, too distracted by the pink sky while he continues petting your hair. Because if you were looking at him, you’d be able to read him like a book. The wheels were already turning in his head, and there was no way he was going to let it go.

—

After that night, John B goes overboard. Especially after he spoke with JJ once you left, getting the low down on what was actually happening. JJ didn’t hold back about how upset you’d get or what he’d overheard Nate and his friends say to you.

“I mean, we’ve always dealt with a lot of shit at the Club, man,” JJ whistled. “But this is another level. And she’s too nice to say anything.”

“I know. It’s cause she needs that job, dude. Her mom can’t hold one down and her sister just moved out,” he said, rubbing a hand down his face. “Keep an eye on her for me, okay?”

JJ nods solemnly, but it does nothing to satisfy John B. He’s still seeing red.

He texts you constantly throughout your shifts, driving you to and from them whenever he can. It’s smooth sailing for a bit with no Nate sightings, until one day when a three word text from JJ comes through: dick head alert.

John B’s extremely caught off guard—you hadn’t said anything to him all day, like everything was fine. He’d just finished work but he was back in the Twinkie in under ten seconds, pushing 60 the entire drive to Figure 8.

John B: I’m in member parking, does it look like he’s gonna leave soon?

JJ: ya

JJ: want me to keep her in here?

John B: Please

JJ: k

JJ: don’t do anything stupid jb

He doesn’t respond, not willing to make that promise right now. John B sits in his car, absolutely thrumming with rage for a full ten minutes before he catches Nate leaving through the front exit. He’s alone.

“Hey, khakis!” John B yells, hastily crossing the dirt lot. Just gonna talk to him, he reminds himself. No violence, just words.

“Do I know you?” Nate asks snootily, assessing John B with a look of distaste.

“I’m pretty sure you remember me,” John B growls, stepping into his space. He doesn’t miss the flash of fear in Nate’s eyes. He seriously can’t believe you ever dated this coward. “I need to talk to you.”

“Oh, you’re that pogue who’s trying to get with Y/n, aren’t you?” he laughs, leaning up against his G-wagon.

“I’m her boyfriend, actually,” he clarifies. “And you’re gonna back off of her. Now.”

He laughs. “You think I’m afraid of you? I could fuck your life up with one phone call, dude.”

“Then I will break both of your fucking hands so that's impossible, dude. I mean it, stay away from her,” John B warns. He can feel his patience wearing thinner by every millisecond he has to stare at Nate’s stupid face. “You broke up with her. And then she moved on. So she’s done with you, fuck off. Find another establishment to throw your money around at.”

“Wow… Y/n’s got you all wound up, huh?” Nate says, eyes dancing with mirth. “Did she already put out for you? There’s no way. Took her months to even let me—”

John B’s stepping forward again, resisting every single instinct in his body to slap a forearm across Nate’s chest and back him up into the car rough enough that he’ll bruise down his back. He’s never wanted to deck someone so hard in his life. No matter how many times he’s scuffled with kooks, he’d never cared as much as he did now. He has to force himself to picture the pleading in your eyes every time he wants to wind up a fist.

“I swear to god, this is your last warning.”

“Or what?”

“Or—”

There’s scuffling at the front door of the Club, and raised voices crossing the parking lot.

“Y/n, just stay inside, okay?”

“No, fuck off, JJ.”

That’s your voice, both John B and Nate’s eyes following the sound. You’re bee-lining for them in the parking lot, a distressed JJ following behind. He shoots John B an apologetic look. “She saw you guys through the window.”

“What’s up, Y/n?” Nate asks. “Couldn’t get enough of me at lunch, had to follow me out here too?”

You ignore him completely, used to it at this point. Your eyes are only on John B as you practically barrel into his chest. You push him firmly back in the direction of his van.

“Go home,” you say.

“Y/n, we were just talking, I swear.” You don’t look impressed, yanking on both of his hands to survey his knuckles. You turn his face from side to side, pushing his hair off of his forehead, even lifting up his shirt and pulling down his collar to make sure. There are no signs of fighting anywhere. “Why didn’t you tell me he was here?”

“Because I’m working, John. Get in your car,” you say. You won’t even look at him, arms crossed over your chest. “I’ll see you later.”

“Angel—”

“John B, please.”

He just nods, reaching out to touch you. But he retracts his hand awkwardly. You roll your eyes, throwing your arms around his shoulder and kissing him on the cheek. “I’m not mad,” you say into his ear. “I just need to keep this job, John B. Thanks for not hitting him, but you have to go home.”

John B squeezes you tightly, getting into his car as asked. He watches you walk back across the lot and head inside, JJ staying at your side as you walk by Nate. He looks knocked down a peg, getting into his G-wagon defeatedly. Good.

But Nate was right, he could ruin John B’s life if he wanted to, and he had no doubt that he would. As he watches JJ open the door for you, turning back to look at John B and shake his head, he knows one thing: he can’t let you work here anymore. He’s texting his friends before he even leaves the parking lot.

—

By the time you and JJ make it back to the Chateau, John B had gathered the rest of the pogues. The three of them are talking animatedly, a hush falling over as soon as you enter. You sigh, throwing your head back. “What now?”

“C’mere,” John B says, tentative smile pulling at his lips as he pats the spot next to him on the couch. “Look, I’m sorry about today. I know you didn’t want me to—”

“John B, I told you I wasn’t mad.”

“What the fuck? Where’s my forgiveness cookie?” JJ shouts from the kitchen, already rooting through the fridge to grab beers for everyone. “Guys, she made me listen to Olivia Rodrigo the entire way home.”

“Shut up, JJ,” Kie says, rolling her eyes.

“Anyways,” John B continues. “You can’t work there anymore.”

Your cheeks burn, your eyes darting around the room. As pogues you pretty much all had the same struggles, but John B bringing up your precarious financial situation in front of all of your friends still embarrassed you. Your voice drops to a whisper. “I told you I need the job.”

“You need a job,” he agrees. “Kie?”

“Okay,” she says, small smile on her face. “I talked to my dad, and we actually just had a waiter quit. With tourist season picking up, we can get you the same amount of hours you had at the Club. I know the pay at the Wreck isn’t as good as what you’re making now, but—” she gestures to Pope.

“With school out and everything,” he continues seamlessly. “If you have the extra time and need a bit more cash, my dad said you can join us on deliveries any time you want. And the tips are good, Y/n/n.”

You’re looking between both of them, kind smiles on their faces. Your boyfriend shifts beside you, and you notice he’s holding a yellow note pad. There’s chicken scratch all over it, different calculations of hours and wages and tips from your previous job and your potential new ones. You can spot parts where different handwriting came in, Pope helping out with the math. You meet John B’s eyes then, filled with hope as he shoves the note pad into your hands. “And then you can quit the Club. What d’you say, angel?”

“You guys—” your voice breaks, fingers tracing over the pencil markings. “You guys did this for me? How did you even find out how much I make?”

“Guilty,” JJ says, leaning up against the doorframe with a beer in his hand. He shoves a hand in his pocket, pulling out a wrinkled copy of your time sheet. “Swiped it from the filing cabinet.”

“I don’t even—wow…” you trail off. It isn’t until a wet dot splatters onto the piece of paper that you realize you’re crying.

“Aw, Y/n/n,” John B gathers you up into his arms, letting you hide your face in his shoulder. “C’mon, group hug.”

There’s three more sets of arms wrapping around you two, Kie hugging you from behind and JJ ruffling your hair.

“You guys really didn’t have to do all this,” you say, clearing your throat.

“‘Course we did,” Pope nudges your shoulder.

“Pogues for life, Y/n,” JJ says. “That includes you now, too.”

“We’re gonna be co-workers,” Kie sings. “And don’t even worry, kooks wouldn’t be caught dead in our tourist trap. But I already told my dad and showed him a picture of Nate, just in case.”

—

You don’t untangle yourself from your boyfriend for the remainder of the night, arms tight around his waist as you two stand by the bonfire. He’s sparing you a glance every few seconds while he’s talking to Pope, sipping his beer while you just smile up at him. You squeeze him around the waist to get his attention, lean up to kiss him once Pope wanders off.

“Hi,” he says, hand coming to pet the back of your hair.

“Hi, my big bad boyfriend who just had to get involved.”

“You should know by now I’m stubborn,” he laughs, taking another sip of his beer. “And I’m always gonna protect you, any way I have to. No matter what.”

“I have to say I much prefer the version of protection where you stay out of jail.”

“I’m a jack of all trades. Brains and brawn, et cetera.”

“Don’t forget humble.”

“That too,” he agrees. He tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, his thumb stroking the top of your cheekbone. “I need you to be honest with me though, Y/n/n. You’re my girl.”

“I know,” you nod, kissing his cheek.

“And nobody fucks with my girl,” he says, finishing the rest of his beer and tossing the bottle into the recycling bin Kie got for the Chateau.

“Calm down, Routledge,” you laugh. He’s kissing you hard then, hand firm on the back of your neck as he takes his time.

“Impossible when I’m around you.”

[buckyownsmylife]

Walk Away - Tom Hardy smut

The one where Tom is your mentor and really shouldn’t feel this attracted to you.

Warnings: smut, age gap, famous!reader, mentor!Tom Hardy, breeding kink, risky sex, tiny insinuation of a size kink, (blink and you’ll miss), mention of a panic attack with barely any descriptions of it

Word count: 3k>

Tom’s P.O.V.

“Tom.” I stopped rubbing the sleep off my eyes the second my name fell from her lips. I didn’t need her to identify herself - I didn’t need to check the caller’s ID. I’d recognize her voice anywhere, regardless of just how groggy I was. But the tone in which she said my name, the tired, dead feeling shining through it, was what really startled me awake. “Tom, I need you.”

The desperation in her voice scared me, and I was out of bed before I could even realize what I was doing. “You’re home?” I confirmed, waiting only for the expected answer while I looked for my keys. “I’ll be there in five. Hang on tight.”

The night was cold, but I don’t think I would have noticed it if it wasn’t for the chill that had me freezing from the inside. I didn’t even consider changing out of my sleepwear - sweatpants and a loose shirt - mostly because I didn’t want to waste time on something so trivial, especially since it wasn’t that different from what I’d normally wear around her.

I’d known her for over four years now. I’d never witnessed this level of distress on her. In fact, she was never anything short of enthusiastic and happy, a bubble of sunshine that managed to energize everyone around her. For her to be this way, something big had to have happened, and it pained me to imagine just what could have been. 

It pained me to imagine her suffering, and not being there to help. So I stepped on the pedal, driving madly, knowing my own heartbeat would only get back to a regular pace once I had her in my arms again, could smell her perfume as I buried my face in her hair.

She wasn’t by the door when I got to her house, so I let myself in with the extra key that I had, noticing all the lights were off. There was only one place she could be. 

My feet took me there without even having to think about it, like there was some sort of instinctive calling from her body to mine. When I got to her bedroom, a dim light showed just how effective that connection was, as I pushed in to find her laying on her bed, waiting for me.

“What happened?” She sat up when I pushed the door open, quietly closing it behind me, and for a second there was no reaction as she took in my presence, like she needed time to realize I really was there. But then her eyes glistened, denouncing a flow of tears, and she just shook her head, as if asking me to contain my curiosity for just a bit.

“Can you just hug me?” She asked, and I felt my heart squeeze at the realization of just how unaware she was of my feelings for her. I’d do anything, anything for the woman in front of me. A hug was nothing, and I ached to have her in my arms anyway.

I sat by her side and immediately, she was on me, climbing on my lap until she could hide her face on the crook of my neck, and I froze only momentarily before wrapping my arms around her smaller body. Despite how wrong it morally felt - particularly when I remembered I wasn’t wearing any type of underwear - I couldn’t deny how right it was to both my heart and my body, how much it comforted me to feel her this close.

So there we stayed, for God knows how long. We didn’t speak - I was waiting for her decision to explain what had happened, and she clearly needed to come to terms with whatever it was. Just being there for her was enough for me, so I kept rubbing her back, eventually pulling away to press kisses on her temple, trying to ignore how her little sighs of comfort made me feel.

“I-I think I’m ready to talk.” The second I couldn’t feel her warm breath against my neck anymore, I felt cold again, but to my surprise, she didn’t climb down my lap, didn’t try to put some space between us. 

Instead, her arms remained around my shoulders, fingers playing with the collar of my shirt, making me shiver every once in a while when her nails dragged along my flesh.

“Okay,” I encouraged, only because she seemed nervous to say whatever it was that she wanted to tell me, her eyes avoiding mine before she finally managed to meet my gaze again, after taking a deep breath.

“Shawn broke up with me.” A sharp inhale resonated throughout the room, and it took me a few seconds to figure out it had been my own doing. I’d never liked her boyfriend, not ever since she first told me they had been going out, and despite how hard I tried to hide it from her, she had always been aware of my true feelings for him. 

Knowing he was the one to blame for her current state of mind only served to turn my concern into anger. 

“Why?” That was the only thing I could think to ask, the only thing I could focus on as I struggled not to throw her on the bed and run out after him. But I’d never be able to leave her alone, especially not since she was so clearly vulnerable.

There was another second of hesitation before she finally revealed, “It was because of you, actually.” Now that froze me into a state of shock. I couldn't speak, couldn’t think, all I could do was stare down at the face of the woman I loved who looked like she hadn’t just dropped a bomb on me.

“What?” Her giggle made my heart skip a beat for a second. It felt good to know that she was already starting to feel better, it felt even greater to know that I was the reason for her laughter, even if I was still fucking confused.

“Don’t worry about it.” Now that just wasn’t good enough. I needed to know, needed to understand. How had I been the cause for their break-up? But she didn’t seem too eager to open up about this specific part of her day, and so I decided to break out the big guns.

I laid her down on the bed, hovering over her so our eyes remained connected. “Tell me,” I quietly begged, and although she still looked anxious, I knew she was close to breaking. “I really want to know.”

She sighed, eyes closing for only an instant and for that instant, I allowed myself to believe that she was breathing me in, appreciating the feeling of being covered by my much larger body, exactly like I did.

“He was jealous,” she finally admitted, but the frown in my face only deepened, asking her for more information. “He felt like I prefered your company over his, which to be fair, it’s the truth. When I’m with you, I never want to leave.”

I didn’t know what to say. So I just stood there, frozen, looking deep into her eyes, searching for any sign of mockery, but found none. She looked hurt, but not like she regretted what happened. It just looked like she needed me there.

And so I stayed. I laid down by her side on the bed and pulled her to me, so her head rested on my chest, and I thought. I thought long and hard about what she’d told me and about how I felt. I thought so much, in fact, that I could see a panic attack forming, as the weight of my feelings threatened to suffocate me, and before I could realize what I was doing, I was already sitting up on the bed and looking for my keys.

“Where are you going?” She rubbed the sleep off her eyes as she tried to understand what was happening, but to be quite honest, I didn’t understand it myself. I just knew I needed to get the hell out of there, or I would end up saying something I’d regret. “I’m so comfy, can’t you just stay?”

It was so hard to breathe that my chest heaved with the labour of getting each breath in and out, so I forced myself to focus on it, stopping only for a few seconds, but it was enough to have me spilling things I’d been managing to hide for years.

“Don’t ask me that. Please.” My voice sounded hoarse, like I hadn’t used it in too long. “Because I’ll stay, and it’ll only hurt me further.” That caught her attention, wiping any remnants of sleep from her in an instant. 

“I wish I could walk away from you. Time and time again I wished for it, when you began dating that jerk, when I first realized I had feelings for you… but I just can’t. I’d do anything for you. All I can think about is you, all the fucking time. I want you so fucking much. I love you way too much. And being just your friend, your mentor, your confidant, is killing me.”

I closed my eyes to catch my breath, trying to focus, trying to make anything make sense again. In that time, I feared the worst. I thought about her leaving, her hand leaving a warm imprint on my face as she slapped me. I thought about her (rightfully, in my mind) accusing me of betraying her, calling me a monster, a pervert. 

I thought I had imagined every possible scenario, but I was still surprised when I opened my eyes to find her seating on the edge of her bed, gaze resting on mine, licking her lips. “I wanna feel you,” she said, and my mind swirled with this unexpected outcome.

“Excuse me?” I scrambled to keep myself up, finding a hold in the back of a nearby chair, my entire body trembling with the effort to hold back, the effort to think and listen, instead of just doing what my instincts begged me to do - pounce on her and fuck her raw.

“I want you inside of me,” she calmly stated, like it was no big deal. It was clear that it was the best way she had found to ask me for what she wanted, but I just couldn’t believe it.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Y-you want me?” I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, understanding the delicate nature of this situation, anxious to not let it slip through my fingers nor hold it so tightly it would end up breaking and hurting me in the process. 

I closed the gap between us, getting out of the bed to come stand in front of him, hoping the proximity would ease him the same way having his body near would calm me.

“I’ve always wanted you,” I confirmed, hoping he’d see just how truthful the statement was, needing him to see how much more I wanted to say. “But right now…” Without thinking, my hand reached out to fiddle with the edge of his shirt, the sight of the boner struggling against his sweatpants unmistakable to me. “Right now, I’ll do anything if you just touch me.” 

A sharp exhale of breath, his warmth hit my face, giving me a taste of what was to come. But I wanted the real thing. I wanted to know how it felt from his lips, to have his tongue forcing my mouth open, making me forget my need to breathe.

“I need you.” I got what I wanted then. His face lowered to mine, mouth finally close enough for me to reach, after what felt like years of desire. And it was everything that I’d always imagined his kiss to be - overpowering, dominating and overwhelmingly him. I was instantly addicted.

When he finally allowed our lips to part, taken by his need to breathe, I slowly began to peel away my clothes, fingers trembling in quiet desperation for him to see this for what it truly was: the meeting of desire and lust after years of denial and repression.

“Please fuck me,” I pleaded as my naked body was revealed to him inch by inch, willing to do whatever would get me what I needed. “I swear I can handle you.” That last part was added almost as an afterthought, when I watched his hand curl around a tightness I’d never witnessed in real life before.

I knew what was going through his head - the fight between what was expected of us and what we wanted, our feelings and our professions, but nothing else mattered to me more than knowing he’d spear me open with his length.

“Lay down and spread your legs for me.” Just that order was enough to have me whining low in the back of my throat, but I did as he said, even held my ankles so his view of me would be unobstructed. But that meant I had to watch him as he knelt by the bed and took a hold of my legs, licking his lips in desire at what he saw.

“Please, please, fuck me,” I repeated, knowing I wouldn’t handle his lips on me right now. I needed his thickness, his hardness, I needed to be filled by him, to feel him inside of me.

“Let me just get a taste,” he tried to convince me, eyes focused on the apex of my thighs. I almost laughed at how it looked like his mouth was watering as he stared at my exposed pussy, but my need was far too great to allow me any sort of distraction.

“Later, okay? You can eat me out as long as you want, just… later.” That had his head snapping up, gaze at last meeting mine with a soft sentiment that I knew was at least half vulnerability.

My poor Tommy. Even after all of my confessions, he still couldn’t believe that what was happening was actually real. He still doubted I would want him in the morning, as something more than what I wanted him when I called him tonight.

“Touch me, Tom,” I quietly asked, raising his hand to where I was aching for him, rubbing myself with his thumb. “Touch me right here, please, I’m begging you.”

Hearing those words fall from my lips changed something in him. Where once he was hesitant, a sudden confident smirk, almost arrogant, slowly spread over his lips, taking over his entire aura.

Tom’s P.O.V.

“So needy for me…” I whispered as I witnessed the truth behind my statement. She was sopping wet, almost dripping down the duvet, and as much as I wanted to get my mouth on her, I could accept that we’d have the time to do that later.

I loved the idea of a later.

“I’ll take care of you, darling.” I whispered as I climbed up her body once more, occupying the space between her thighs like I was always meant to be there. “Let me take care of you.”

I brushed my lips against hers, relishing in this closeness, in the moment just before it all changed. I was sure she could feel the weight of my cock against her thigh, and it was probably what prompted her to wrap her arms around my shoulders, breathlessly telling me, “Yes. Yes, please.”

Hissing as I finally slid my length inside of her, I knew I was in trouble the second I bottomed out, biting on her shoulder to keep myself from groaning and drowning out her delicious little sounds. She felt too good. No one should feel this good.

A broken gasp (or was it a moan) called my attention, taking me from my efforts of restraining myself to her, completely. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” I asked, brushing the hair away from her face as I watched her open her eyes and blink a few times, trying to keep tears from flowing down her cheeks. “Does it hurt?”

But she just shook her head, hands searching mine until she could lace our fingers together. “No,” she breathed, hips jutting up in a silent way of asking me to move. “It feels so good.”

I bit the inside of my cheek in an effort not to smile widely at her admission, finally allowing myself to slowly begin dragging my cock out of her tight channel before pushing it in again.

“It does?” I questioned, loving to hear her say it. “Well, I’ll always make you feel this good, baby. How does that sound?” She moaned out loud as I lowered my head to lave her breasts with attention, relishing in every little sound that escaped her beautiful lips as I pounded her on the bed.

“Fuck, you’re such a good girl, darling.” Another loud moan was all I got as a response, paired with her fingernails biting on the skin of my back. “My good girl, yes?” I insisted, rubbing my jaw against her neck, breathing her in.

I was drunk on her, on this entire experience, still not quite believing it was really happening. She was really here, getting fucked by me. “You’ll be my good girl? Just mine? Forever?”

A smile spread out over her lips, even as she threw her head back to moan a “Yes.” I chuckled against her chest, starting to suck little bruises here and there, wanting to see her all marked up on me, when she interrupted my plans with a breathless comment, “You talk dirty.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” I chuckled against her lips, right as she started to convulse underneath me, clinging to my back for dear life. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

Her nails scratched me as she found her bliss, and I wasn’t too far behind. As I started to pick up my pace, really milking her orgasm while searching for mine, it was her words that brought me to my ultimate release.

“C-cum inside, I want it inside of me.” I knew she wasn’t in any form of contraception, and I also knew this wasn’t the right time for either of us to become parents, but to say the idea didn’t arouse me was a lie. 

Flashes of her young body with my baby in it had my cock twitching, the risk of getting my perfect future right then too exciting. She’d be the perfect mother, I just knew it. And the fact that she would take the chance of becoming the mother of my child right then affected me so much that even after I emptied myself inside of her, I was still hard.

Her fingers played with my curls as I rested my head between her breasts, breathing her in, trying to catch my breath. “I can’t believe I get to sleep next to you tonight,” she said, melting my heart right then and there. “I hate it when you’re away.”

I did too. But I’d never need to be again.

[xiaoderys]

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 (𝐥.𝐣𝐧)

pairing: tutor!jeno x student!reader

warnings: smut, size kink, bulging kink, fem oral receiving, punishment(?)

word count: 2.5K

requested: yes

Jeno poked his tongue in his cheek as he smacked your test papers down on your desk. “Where did I go wrong?” he said, trying to keep his cool but you just sat there, staring at the paper marked with the big ‘F’ in front of you.

He angrily sighed and rubbed his temples “I asked you a question, y/n, don’t tell me you can’t even answer a question as simple as that” his frustration was growing by the second yet you just won’t budge because frankly, he’s done nothing wrong, he fulfilled his duties as your tutor and did his best to make sure you were prepared for your exams but you’re a teenage girl and Jeno is a well-built guy matched with an attractive face, you just couldn’t help but be distracted.

The tension between you two increased “I already said I was sorry!” you blurt out in a high pitched voice and the ever so patient Jeno finally snaps “I spent so long-“ he slams both his hands down your desk and you were now face to face with him “I spent so damn long teaching you this damn biology lesson over and over again, y/n!” he groaned and you refused to make eye contact with him, sitting back in your chair. You dared to look up at him for a quick second and you felt his eyes burning holes right through you so you went back to fumbling with your hands.

“Just give me a good reason why you fucking failed the test we spent weeks studying for” and yet again, you stayed silent and emotionless to which he scoffed “you’re wasting both our times” he gave up and stood up fully, ready to pack his things and go but you couldn’t risk losing Jeno, now out of all times since you were already failing two subjects “wait I- I was distracted okay?!” he rolled his eyes, “really, y/n?” He said with a sarcastic tone, back still facing you “yes! I- I just- I got so distracted and everything just- poof! I forgot everything I learned” you tried to explain frantically and he turned to face you again “And what was this ‘distraction’ that was so much more appealing than passing your exam?” He crossed his arms, waiting for a decent explanation “you” you gathered every bit of courage to say it out loud but you were desperate to make him stay. He arched his brow in response “me?” you nod slightly while looking down as you didn’t want him to see the blood rushing to your cheeks from your growing embarrassment.

Needless to say, Jeno was intrigued by your answer, of course he was still mad about you failing your tests but he wanted to dig deeper into this ‘distraction’ of yours, after all, it was his job to make sure your head was straight and focused on studying.

He walked back up to your desk slowly “and how exactly was I distracting you, Miss y/l/n?” he tilted his head to the side, awaiting your answer “well you’re not exactly what I expected when I was told I was getting a tutor” you murmured and he hummed “how so?” you inhaled heavily, building up the confidence to tell him why exactly he was distracting you even though you both knew he already knows the reason why “well for starters, you’re hotter than 99% of the guys I’ve ever seen in my life..and you always wear that white button up with your sleeves rolled up to your arms. You always leave a few buttons unbuttoned, just enough for people to take a peek of what’s inside yet still leave some things for the imagination...” Jeno wasn’t dumb, he saw the way you would shuffle in your seat and go red whenever he said something particularly flirty. He knows that you wear that agonizingly short skirt and pull it up to your waist so it rides just above your thighs for him. The way you would sway your hips when he’s walking right behind you. How you would ‘accidentally’ let your pen slip from your hand so you could bend down in front of him just to pick it up which was so fucking unnecessary but it got him so worked up anyways. Jeno knew it but he wanted to hear it straight from you. His face didn’t show any emotion while you talked but he was definitely amused by your honesty “And don’t even get me started with your your hands, fuck they’re so veiny and hot, I can’t count the amount of times I’ve imagined them-“ you cleared your throat, stopping yourself from embarrassing yourself any further “hmm?.. why did you stop?” you swallowed thickly “I -uh-“ “you were talking about how you’ve been imagining my hands?”“I was just talking rubbish, never mind that..” he leaned down so he was eye level with you yet again “no, tell me more, I’m your tutor, am I not? It’s only fair for me to know about these distractions so we can find a way to fix them” you tucked your hair behind your ear and you didn’t know where the sudden confidence came from but something pushed you to spit it out “I’ve always imagined them wrapped around my neck” you kept looking down, not daring to look up even for a second “is that all?” you nod and you could not have been any less prepared for what he says next “You don’t imagine my fingers inside your pussy whenever you touch yourself? You don’t imagine yourself, legs spread on my desk while I fuck you into oblivion?” you looked at him and it was like he wasn’t affected by whatever was going on “n-no, I don’t” lies.

Jeno stood up fully again, grabbing the text book from his own desk “come here” he said as he motioned for you to come over with a single wave of his finger and you stood up from your seat, walking over to him.

He grabbed your waist and lifted you up on his desk and you yelped at his sudden action. He opened the text book and of course you were curious ”what are you doing?” “you wanted to work on distractions, right? Then answer my questions while I play with you” you only stared at him with your wide eyes, scared and excited about what’s to come next.

He lowered himself and lift up your skirt "let's start with the basics: what's the powerhouse of the cell?" he asks and your eyes gleamed, you knew this one. “It’s the mi-“ you were cut off when he slowly traced the insides of your thigh “the mi- what?” he taunts, his ego building up, knowing you’re already falling apart just with a simple touch “m-mitochondria” He smiled “very good. what’s the first step in meiosis and cell division?” “Prophase one?” he slowly took off your underwear and you can already imagine how dripping wet you are but your thoughts were focused in answering his questions that you basically ignored your arousal “good girl, now what’s the difference between prokaryotic and eukaryotic cells?” you spent a few seconds rummaging your brain for the answer and your face lit up when you got it “prokaryotic cells are uni-cellular while eukaryotic cells are multi-cellular!” he pushed your legs further apart, your glistening folds now fully exposed to him “mhmm, so tell me why you got all these questions wrong in your test?” he moves closer to your core and he looks up at you, awaiting your answer “I guess I just forgot” you said as you bit your lip innocently “then we’ll have to find a way to make you remember now, don’t we?” you looked straight at him and his eyes were dark with lust. He smiled but it wasn’t his typical ‘it’s okay that you made a mistake, we can fix it’ smile, it’s the type of smile that made it look like he was gonna eat you right then and there.

He licked a strip of your slit and you started to whimper to which Jeno of course, mentally took a note of “aww is my baby sensitive?” you nod frantically and he let out his infamous low chuckle “now, recite all the stages in mitosis, angel”

He was now giving kitten licks to your sensitive bud which left your mind all fuzzy “I-interphase, prophase, telophase-“ he continued to lap up your arousal and stuck his tongue in you which earned him a high pitched whine “metaphase, anaphase!!” you quickly answered in a whiny voice. He removes his mouth off of you and replaces it with his fingers and with the first push of his middle finger inside of you, he immediately tried to find your sweet spot “you wanna try that again, pup?” he was pushing in and out of you all while continuously rubbing circles on your clit, leaving you a whiny and stuttering mess “I-I..ahhh fuck-“ a string of curses and incoherent words left your mouth and Jeno was pleased at how your body was reacting to him but you haven’t answered his question yet “I’m not gonna ask you again. What are the stages in mitosis by order?” He added another finger and curled them both inside you, causing you to arch your back but he used his other hand to hold you in place “Interphase, Prophase— shit!” His fingers were moving faster by the second and you felt like you were gonna explode “Metaphase, Anaphase... FUCK!” you were so so close “is my baby close?” you nodded with an exasperated whine “please..” a reassuring smile was plastered on his face “just one more step and I’ll let you come, angel”

your mind was filling up with nothing but bliss and Jeno’s fingers inside you but you were so desperate to come, you tried to remember everything you learned with all the energy you have left “TELOPHASE!!” tears gathered in your eyes and Jeno was left with a satisfied grin “that’s my girl” and with that he hooked your legs over his shoulders, pulling you closer to him as he ate you out. You tasted so sweet; so heavenly and Jeno swore he just found his new addiction.

He felt your tiny hands gripping his hair and he knew he was doing something right. Seeing Jeno devour your cunt was the most sinful sight yet you have no means of stopping him “Fuck, right there! Shit—ahhh!” your whines only made him prod his tongue inside your hole deeper “g-gonna come!” you squealed and he rubbed your clit while licking you up and down which finally pushed you to the edge.

Jeno cleaned you up with his tongue some more and was ready to pull away. Having only just climaxed, you were sensitive but you wanted more. You wanted him to fill you up and use you to his hearts content “c-cock..” he shot his head up to look at your fucked out expression “hmm? what was that?” he wanted to make sure his ears weren’t deceiving him “I want your cock, please” he definitely heard that one right but he was still worried because he didn’t want to push you over your limit “are you sure you can take it, baby?” you nod your head, desperate to feel him inside you, and that’s all the reassurance Jeno needed before he pushed his pants down and released his thick member.

He was massive and you started to get a little worried if you can take all of him “is it gonna fit?” Jeno cooed at how you looked genuinely worried that his cock wasn’t gonna fit into your tiny little pussy so he held the side of your face, brushing his thumb over your cheeks to wipe off the mascara dripping down so prettily and making you look like a hot mess “oh baby, we’ll make it fit.” He rubbed his length up and down, the tip angry red and leaking with pre-cum. You wanted a taste of it but that just has to wait for another time.

“Are you ready, angel?” You gave him a small nod and he slowly started to push himself in, making sure not to hurt you. “So. Fucking. Tiny.” He could barely fit half of him inside you even when your cunt was already dripping wet from earlier. He had to pull himself all the way back out and push it all the way in again for him to bottom out and you swore you almost passed out. The stretch burned but you tried your best not to move around so much.

It took you a few more thrusts until you could somewhat take all of him in your hole but you still couldn’t get used to it. “J-jeno, you’re so b-big, please slow down!” you sobbed which only drove Jeno mad “What? Am I too big for you? Your tight cunt can’t take every inch of my cock?” you could only respond with sobs and pleas but your walls clenching around him said enough and it only boosted his ego even more “isn’t this what you wanted, baby? For me to fill your tiny hole with my fat cock?” He gets rid of his white button up and looks down at your tiny figure as he fucks into you. He noticed a little bulge forming on your lower abdomen each time he went in and it drove him insane seeing your little tummy take all of him so he smirked and took your hand to guide it on your stomach, feeling his cock hit your deepest parts and poke through you “look at your tummy, angel.. You feel that? That’s the only cock this little pussy will ever need” his filthy words were riling you up even more which you didn’t think was even possible and you were now practically begging him to go faster “so needy and pretty” he chuckled, how could Jeno ever say no to his little baby? He picked up his pace, thrusting into you at an inhumane speed.

He pulled your body up and you immediately hooked your arms around him, clawing your nails at his back “God, right there Jeno, fuck!” you were holding onto him for dear life and was uncontrollably clenching around his length “so fucking tight, angel. How are you even taking my cock?” you brought one of your hands to grip the back of his head and pulled him in for a hot make out session. He was catching all your moans and whines in his mouth and soon enough, the knot in your stomach started to form again and Jeno could tell you were close by the way your grip on his hair tightened and your walls contracted so much around him that he couldn’t even move properly.

He started to rub circles on your clit to aid you in reaching your climax and your whines became so needy and loud “Come for me me, angel. I wanna feel you all over my cock” and with just those magical words, you reached your second mind-blowing orgasm of the day and he slowly lied you back down as he thrusts into you a few more times, chasing his own high, leaving you shaking and whimpering from overstimulation “I got you, baby” he reassures, moving the strands of hair covering your face to give you a soft kiss on the lips “such a pretty angel”.

[happysoldlady]

Cowboy Like Me - Ezekiel Reyes

a/n: catch me in a dark room somewhere crying to taylor swift and writing this. if you want the full experience, listen to cowboy like me by ole girl. hope y’all enjoy!

general taglist: @woahitslucyylu​ @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly​ @peaches007​ @cocotheclown​

taylor x mayan taglist: @thesandbeneathmytoes​​

“and the skeletons in both our closets plotted hard to fuck this up and the old men that I’ve swindled really did believe I was the one”

You had always thought of yourself as fairly independent, as well as a hustler of sorts. You had done things throughout your life that you weren’t particularly proud of, but at the time, you deemed necessary enough to carry out. It was a quality that you had recognized in EZ when you met him, even though it wasn’t one you possessed within yourself anymore.  

Ezekiel Reyes was the love of your life. He was warm, and you swore you would do anything to keep this world from hurting him more than it already had. You knew that things from prison and the club effected him. You knew that when he slipped out at 4am every morning to push his body to its physical limits that he had to. You knew that the neatly organized items in his nightstand and cutlery drawer was important to him. You found comfort in EZ’s habits, though. He was hesitant to let you see them at first. Avoiding his trailer altogether in the beginning of your relationship, and never spending the night at your place. EZ was careful about hiding the things he needed from you. 

Eventually, though, you found that warmth, that comfort, in one another. Like the sun on your bare face on a warm day; like the feeling of everyone you love in one room. 

Looking at EZ now, though, that warmth is missing in his eyes. Replaced by a fire to prove himself, and the smirk on his face worries you. EZ is confident, sure. He knows he’s an attractive guy, and he also knows that he’s the smartest person in most rooms. So, yes, he’s confident almost always. But the smirk resting on his lips now is...cocky: the dangerous sibling of confident. The one that gets you killed in this life. Especially as a newly patched MC member. 

You’re standing with the refrigerator door agape, forgetting the whole reason for coming into the kitchen to begin with. You close the door and instead lean against the bar, watching EZ’s attitude change the longer he talks to Bishop. 

You don’t know this EZ. 

“It’s because he’s newly patched.” Coco mutters next to you, suddenly. You jump a little, placing a hand on your chest. 

“What?” You ask, realizing that you’ve been staring at EZ for too long. 

Coco looks up from his beer and gives you a crooked grin. “EZ got patched. Now he thinks his dick is bigger than it is. It happens to all of us.” You blink at Coco, confused. 

“How di-” 

“I’m good at reading people homie.” Coco says, before taking a swig of his beer. “That’s why you were looking at him all disappointed right?” 

“I’m not disappointed in him.” 

Coco looks at you. “Maybe not. But he ain’t like that at home, is he? Doing that stupid ass walk that Angel does? That’s a new patch thing, and well, Angel.” 

You laugh, shaking your head. “Angel does have a stupid ass walk.” 

You and Coco share a laugh and then he disappears off to the bathroom. You throw away the empty beer bottle he’s left behind before grabbing two for you and EZ. While your popping the cap on them, EZ strolls over, leaning over the bar to give you one of his infamous smiles. 

You place a small kiss to his cheek, sliding his open beer to him, before opening your own. The longer he’s near you, you can see the ice from whatever conversation he just had melting off of him. And you find relief in that fact. That maybe he can still be the man you adore so much, and also be a successful member of the club. 

You and EZ stick around another fifteen minutes or so, long enough for EZ to finish his beer, before he slides an arm around your waist and says, “Wanna head out?” 

You don’t hesitate in the slightest. You set your beer down on the counter and let EZ steer you out of the loud atmosphere of the party and out to his bike. He helps you onto the back of it, wrapping your arms around his waist as the motorcycle roars to life. You don’t say anything, instead just rest your head on his back and let him take you home. 

It isn’t until you’re pulling on one of his old t-shirts to wear to bed that you glance up at him to see that his previous cocky stature has dissolved altogether. He’s standing at the sink, rubbing the moisturizer you’ve been hassling him over onto his face. You walk up behind him and wrap your arms around his waist once more, his grin infectious once he catches your eyes in the mirror. 

“Did you have fun tonight?” He asks, wiping the excess product off of his hands on a towel. 

You nod, muttering out a quiet confirmation. He turns slowly, running his hands down your back before pressing a kiss to your head, “I love you.” 

You smile against his chest but he watches the wheels turn in your head as you lift your head off of his chest to look up at him. He lets out a sigh and leans against the counter, pulling you between his legs. 

“What is it, mi amor?” 

You shake your head but he grabs your face, “I know when something is on your mind. What is it?” 

Your eyes dance between his for several moments, trying to decide what to say before you pull the trigger. Finally, you shrug, “I’m just worried about you.” 

EZ’s eyebrows immediately furrow, his thumbs still resting on the apples of your cheeks, “Worried about what?” 

EZ can see you struggling with how to voice your worries, and it frustrates him. You’re his favorite person in the world, and anything you have to say, he wants to know. 

“Baby, it’s just me. Tell me.” He says lowly, searching your eyes. 

“You know that I support you, right? Like I would never want to-” He cuts you off by shaking his head. 

“I know, I know. Whatever it is, I can take it.” 

“I’m worried that you’re playing this new position in the club a little too hard. And I know you feel like you have a lot to prove and you’re new so you have to bring your A game but I don’t want to lose you to this life just because you’re too busy being a cowboy to realize what you have outside of it waiting for you.” You ramble, stepping back from him to wave your hands around as you explain. 

EZ ponders over your words for a few moments, tilting his head in thought. “You think I’m not being safe?” 

You nod curtly, waiting for the explosion. Waiting for the check that you don’t really get to have any opinions about his role in the club. Waiting for the laughter that you would even consider that you would. But it never comes. Instead, EZ grabs your hands. 

“Look at me, mi amor.” He says softly, and waits until your eyes mosey up to his before he continues. “I do have to take risks that the others don’t because I want to be good at this, and I think I can be. I didn’t realize that you had noticed anything different, though.” 

“Your demeanor changes.” You say quietly, shrugging. The finally piece of ice that you saw in him earlier melts as he stares down at you lovingly. 

“I love you. I’ll be as safe as I can be, I promise.” He pulls you into a hug, resting his head on top of yours. The two of you stay like that for a while before you take his hand to lead him to bed only to be stopped once more by his reassurance, “And for the record, I never stop thinking about what’s waiting for me at home.”  

[shotorozu]

hellooo i saw this tiktok video and was wondering if you can please do this for shoto kaminari and bakugou

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSJkeaV68/

‘i got a big fat 😳🎂’

character(s) : todoroki shouto, kaminari denki, bakugou katsuki (bnha)

legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns used, quirk not mentioned

headcanon type : fluff, crack (x reader)

note(s) : LMAO ANON YOU LITERALLY READ MY MIND?? I WAS GOING TO DO THIS EVEN WITHOUT A REQUEST— great to know that i have the same thinking process with you 🤩

»»————-　♡　————-««

todoroki shouto

noooow

you know shouto’s always willing to do tiktok challenges with you— he might be clueless when it came to social media (because of end**vor)

but! he’s gotten used to your antics most of them anyway

but he’s sort of confused when you show him a video of a couple uh.. walking?? he can’t tell what they’re doing exactly

“what,, are they doing?” is what he asked when you showed him the tiktok, brows furrowed in confusion

“they’re uh.. kekeing how do i explain it— nevermind that! just do whatever i do, shouto!”

he’s still confused as hell 🧍‍♀️ but he decides to not ask any questions, and push through with it, just by seeing the excited look on your face

and the audio 😳 i mean, it’s not,, wrong. to him, your cake is some fine ass cake :))

you lead him out of the frame, and you hit play— not giving shouto time to ‘rehearse’

it might seem to be that shouto has no reaction to the audio, but if you look closely— the corners of his lips are tugged upwards slightly

and he follows your every command, when you gesture for him to copy you.

now, shouto’s got the dance steps down, but man’s terribly stiff 😭 he also kept looking at you (specifically your ass) to see if he was doing things correctly

afterwards, the two of you take a look at the video. and, he asks you if the tiktok needs to be filmed once again by your silent reaction

but he’s appalled when he sees you literally driven to tears from pure, unfiltered laughter

you assure him with a kiss that you’re fine, and insist that the tiktok is fine as you upload it— and you cuddle with shouto for the rest of the day, letting the tiktok marinate

the next day comes by, and tiktok BLEW UP. like.. blew up, really. they should be honored that they’ve witnessed shouto strut to nicki minaj

the comments being well, absolutely hilarious. you could read through the comments again and again, and not be bored

“mann your boyfriend 😭 he’s staring too hard” “YUHH GET IT, I GUESS” “go hot couple go ‼️”

needless to say, he didn’t hear the end of the conversation when bakugou found out about the tiktok

kaminari denki

if denki had a list of tiktok challenges he desperately wanted to do at some point in his life,

this would be in the top 3, for sure

so, luck seemed to be on his side when you approached him first— wanting to rope him in on another tiktok you wanted to do with him

hopefully one that doesn’t center him as the poor unfortunate victim

“you wanna do another tiktok?” he beams when you nod, and when you show him what the prank is— he’s excited!!

you can clearly tell that it didn’t take that much convincing

the blond’s also thankful that it’s not another tiktok that needs him to ask bakugou if he can say pegasus but without the pega 💀

“alright! tell me when we can do it,”

“right now.”

so here he is, standing beside you, as you set up your phone— absolutely confident on what he’s going to do

the tiktok starts running, and denki might’ve underestimated his eagerness, when the camera captures his eager expression 💀

there was no jumpscare warning

and you didn’t even have to say ‘c’mon‼️’ for him to follow your movements. as soon as you turned your back, he started moving along with you, and the music.

he was watching your movements, and he tried copying them to the best of his sloppy, hyper and exaggerated abilities

denki was so excited about being in the tiktok, to the point he literally crashed behind you— making the both of you tumble to the floor, laughing

and the tiktok’s results are pretty much unknown to him— minus the fact that you laughed HARDER when you re-watched the tiktok

“can i see?” he asks eagerly, but you swiftly reject— shoving his head away from your screen with a hand.

he pouts when you say “the results are a surprise!” a bummer, but he chooses to trust you, and the rest of the day is spent on the floor in pure enjoyment

you upload the tiktok and slowly but surely, it attracts people’s attention

because of denki’s eagerness— he,, did a fantastic job with the walk! you can even say that he did better than you, minus the not so graceful fall

even the comments agree with you “MAN HIS CAKE IS THANGING‼️” “he did awfully well omg 💀” “oh to have this relationship’s energy 😔 when can i find a dude like that?”

and when denki finally sees the tiktok’s results, he’s left in tears from laughing— reduced into wheezes

DANK-i : BABE WHDJWKDKE THE TIKTOK YOU JUST POSTED— 😭💀💀 IM IN TEARS

safe to say, his wish has been fulfilled, and he can pass away at any given moment, satisfied.

bakugou katsuki

bakugou katsuki will never admit that he does enjoy doing tiktoks with you

plot twist : he enjoys it a lot more than he expects

but he knows where the draw the line, and the line was at the new tiktok you’ve showed to him

“no.”

“but—”

“fuck no— if you wanted to twerk infront of a camera, go ahead by all means, just don’t rope me into it.”

he does have his reasons. one— the bakusquad will make fun of him, and two— if the tiktok were to blow up,, he wouldn’t live it down.

and it always does— he knows that tiktoks do particularly well if he makes an appearance.

“if i didn’t post it, would you do it with me?”

but katsuki seemed to be fine with that. with a roll of the eyes, he sighs— looking at the tiktok once again. he gets up from his seat when the tiktok’s over

“let’s do this fucking thing.” he says with determination, even though no one was going to see the tiktok anyway or so he thinks

the tiktok’s video timer starts counting down, giving the both of you guys ample time to get into position

a smirk couldn’t be held back when you state that “i have a big phat 🎂” it’s anything but lies, and it would be the only time katsuki would smile on camera

you go forward, and you gesture for him to follow on beat— with a focused glare, katsuki starts strutting with you like no one’s business

it’s at a slow pace, and people would’ve guessed that he had a stick up his ass, sure— but damn‼️ he has those moves.

and before the video actually ends, he’s seen turning around with a glare— to see if the camera’s not filming it’s still running, and the camera captures his expression

“not bad.” he can’t help but smirk at the results, when you replay the video “i’m referring to the both of us. and, didn’t know you could move like that.”

“katsuki, your pace was like a grandfather’s—”

“shut the hell up!”

but little did katsuki know, when he wasn’t looking, you published the tiktok online, for everyone to view (basically, 3M people have seen him strut to nicki minaj)

the comments were having a blast “we’ll disregard the pace, buT DAMN‼️WHERE DID HE GET THOSE MOVES?” “LOL HIS FACE AT THE END WAS LIKE👹🤨” “y’all catch that at the beginning? woooh he’s lovesick.”

when you woke up the next morning— you can hear the boom of his quirk outside of your room, and you can practically hear his not so happy voice

fly high 😔🕊 you will be missed

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission

[brandyllyn]

Validation

Summary: Santi comes home early to find his new roommate a little undressed.

(Santiago “Pope” Garcia x f!Reader) Part 2 : Corroboration

My Masterlist

Word count: 5600 (I don’t know what the fuck happened). Read it on AO3.

Rating: NC17 (Explicit) 

Warnings: oral (m & f receiving). alcohol.

Santiago slammed his truck door shut, leaning forward for a moment to press his forehead to the steering wheel. He needed to stop online dating. The chicks he picked up after hours in bars might not be the kind he ended up keeping around - but at least there he knew what he was getting into. The woman he had met tonight was using a picture of her granddaughter on her profile. And yeah, he didn’t have a problem with older ladies, but twice his age was really too much.

He groaned as he started the engine, swearing to himself and backing out of the spot. All he wanted to do was go home, get drunk, and maybe watch some basketball in his underwear. But he couldn’t.

Because you were there.

The light turned red and he coasted to a stop, mulling the issue over. It was a favor for Frankie. Put his sister-in-law up for a couple of weeks. Maybe a month while you were looking for a job in town. They didn’t have room at the Morales house, what with the baby and all, and Frankie had begged Santi to let you use his guest room for a bit. He’d agreed. 'Cause he was a nice guy and Frankie was a brother.

And to be honest, you weren’t exactly a horrible roommate. You cleaned up after yourself, spent most of your time in your room, and just generally gave him his space. Unless it was one of the nights you offered to cook, he barely saw you.

Which was a shame because you were exactly his fucking type.

"Do not fuck her." Frankie’s warning had hit him like a fist to the gut and he’d looked at the other man incredulously.

"Fish, you think I’d do that to you? She’s fucking family."

Frankie had eyed him dubiously. "Damn right she is. You fucking remember that when you meet her hermano."

It had taken approximately three tenths of a second for Santi to realize why Frankie had given him the warning. Standing on his front steps with a bag in one hand and a wide smile on your face Santi had had to resist the urge to throw you up against the front door and claim you then and there. The first day he had been a mess, alternating between staring at you and avoiding you. He knew you must have thought he was strange but he didn’t know what else to do.

And then you’d come out to get coffee the next morning wearing a tank top and a pair of tiny cotton shorts and every ounce of blood had shot straight to his cock and never come back.

Tonight was supposed to be a relief. A fucking date, his first since your arrival. But the octogenarian was a bust and he was pressing the button for the garage by barely eight thirty. He was home much earlier than he expected. Earlier than he had told you. He didn’t think about that fact as he parked his truck and entered the house through the side door. Didn’t think about it when he toed his boots off and wandered through the laundry room and into the hall, making a beeline for the kitchen and the bottle of tequila on the shelf there.

Maybe he should have.

If he’d have thought about it he might have called ahead. Texted to let you know he was going to be back sooner rather than later. Given you a heads up so that he didn’t walk in on you sitting in his favorite armchair wearing the skimpiest lingerie he’d ever seen in his life and about to take a photo of yourself.

There was just a moment before you noticed him. A moment where the phone blocked him from your view entirely and he couldn’t help how he froze, his eyes scanning over your body. And then your hand dropped, your brow furrowing as you looked at the picture. Another second ticked by before you looked up at him and then you screeched.

Santi spun on his heel, turning to face the wall and squeezing his eyes shut for good measure. "Fuck, sorry," he said, the words spilling out as he pressed one hand through his hair. He could hear you scrambling, muttering curses under your breath for a minute before your laughter shocked him out of his secondhand embarrassment.

"For Christ’s sake, turn around Santi."

He did so slowly, half hoping that maybe you were still… but no. You had a robe on, sash tied tightly around your waist. Yet even then, it was short. Barely covering the tops of your thighs. He’d seen that much leg before, those little shorts that made his fingers itch. But there was something about this expanse of skin. Of knowing that if he lifted the hem of the robe you’d be wearing just a lace-

"I thought you were going to be out late?"

Your voice cut off his train of thought and he tried to slip into his normal charm like it was a mask. "Yeah, date was a bust." He shrugged, walking past you into the kitchen. He really needed a drink. He slammed a cabinet door a little too forcefully while he searched for the bottle he swore he just bought.

"Want some wine?"

He raised an eyebrow when he looked at you, then at the nearly empty bottle of wine you were offering him. Well, that made things make a little more sense. You didn’t seem the type to take nudes - but maybe after a bottle of wine…?

He took the bottle, emptying the remainder into a glass and clinking it to yours before taking a sip. "Sorry I startled you."

You shrugged and the sleeve of the robe fell down your arm, exposing the wide straps of whatever the hell it was you had wrapped around your neck and dipping down to your breasts. It wasn’t a bra. Santi had seen hundreds of bras in his life. Whatever it was you were wearing did not qualify for the name. You pulled the sleeve back up with a casual tug, but now the front was gaping open and Santi could see the hint of your breasts.

"Sorry you walked in on that."

He wasn’t. In fact he was already mentally planning how he might set up this same situation again. What else might you do in the living room if you thought you were alone for the night? "Don’t worry about it, I told you to make yourself at home." Jesus Christ had he really just said that? "Who’s the lucky guy?" He grinned to cover the slight note of envy that crept into his voice.

"Who?"

"Whoever you were taking photos for," he gestured at your phone.

You bit your lip and then shook your head. "No, it’s not… there’s no he."

"She," Santi corrected with a shrug. "I don’t judge."

You laughed and Santi watched the way your throat worked. His beer at dinner and the wine now must be interacting in some strange way because he felt drunk. Light-headed. Like he wanted to lean into you and make some very bad decisions that Frankie would fucking castrate him for.

"No, it was… for a friend," you clarified.

Santi’s eyebrow rose. "You send your friends nudes?"

"They’re not nudes," you corrected him with a glare, "they’re just. You know… you send your friends photos and they hype you up. It’s validation." You sighed softly, "And it’s been a while since I got that."

Santi did not know. At no point in his life had he sent anyone he knew photos of himself. With clothes or without. Hell, he’d never even sent anyone a sexy message - he knew too well how much information someone could find on you if they wanted to. He kept things simple with a 'Mind if I come over' or if he was feeling particularly adventurous 'wanna fuck?'

No one ever complained.

"Validation," he repeated, rolling the word in his mouth. "Huh."

You sighed, setting your elbows on the kitchen island and leaning towards him. You didn’t seem to notice how the action pressed your breasts together or that he could see it in the way your robe gaped open. But Santi noticed. Santi noticed every detail.

"Not that you’d know anything about that." You said with an eye roll. "But some of us aren’t as cocky as you are. Some of us need our friends to reassure us we’re attractive."

Santi opened his mouth then paused, thinking about the next thing he was going to say. You didn’t seem to notice, finishing off your wine in a gulp and moving over to the sink to drop your glass. He shouldn’t do what he was about to do. He knew it - in fact he had promised he wouldn’t. But that had been before. Before he knew you or what your laugh sounded like or the way you smelled. Before the opportunity to do more than just want you had landed squarely in his lap and Santi was left with the easiest decision of his life. And he was nothing if not decisive.

After all, there was no harm in looking right?

"I’m your friend."

You froze in place and Santi swallowed, staring at the back of your thighs and what he thought might be the start of the swell of your ass. He let the words sit there before he said them again. "I’m your friend, querida."

You turned back to him, hands braced on the counter behind you. "What do you mean?"

"If you needed validation, why don’t you ask me?" Your lips parted as you stared at him, the soft gesture enough to send blood rushing to his cock. As if he weren’t already hard enough.

Finally, after what felt like eons, you smiled, huffing a laugh and moving to walk past him. "Funny."

He moved just slightly, not enough to block your way, but enough to force you to have to work to avoid him. He breathed deeply, smelling your soap and a faint overlay of something richer.  "I’m a red-blooded man," he pointed out. "I think I can be reasonably counted on to appreciate a woman’s body."

You were so close. Close enough that he would only need to lean in to taste you, to run his tongue along your plush lips and sink inside of you. You blinked, looking away, and Santi realized that maybe he was coming on a little strong. Especially for someone who until recently had expressed no interest in you whatsoever. In fact had gone out of his way to give every impression of not being interested.

He held his hands up, moving to make plenty of room for you to continue by. "I’m only saying, if you’re looking for someone to admire your lingerie I’m right here and willing." He waggled his eyebrows exaggeratedly, hoping the comical effect would lighten the mood and thank God it did. Your nose crinkled when you looked back over your shoulder at him, stopping near the kitchen table.

"I mean, I suppose you are my target audience," you mused out loud and Santi resisted the urge to adjust himself. He knew what you meant - but damn the idea of you buying lingerie for him was like gasoline on an already raging inferno.

He leaned his hands back against the island, facing you now. Feet crossed in front of him to hide the bulge in his jeans. He shrugged nonchalantly, listening to the blood rush in his ears, his eyes glued to your face. "Only if you want."

Your fingers were hesitant for just a second on the tie of your robe and Santi held himself still, keeping his eyes on yours. He wanted to see you. Fuck he wanted to see you. But he wanted you to want him to see you even more. Wanted you to feel the sense of power in turning him on. He was already there, you just hadn’t seemed to notice yet.

He saw your lips part. Saw the moment your lips quirked, as though you were laughing at yourself for even thinking of doing this. But your fingers pulled the sash and you shrugged and both it and the robe fell to the floor in a heap at your feet.

Santi tried. He really did. He tried to keep his eyes on yours until he saw that you were ready. That you were comfortable. But one of your hands twitched up to cover your stomach for a moment and his eyes followed the path immediately and then he couldn’t look away. There was probably a name for what you were wearing. He should definitely ask you at some point because his porn for the next month was going to feature this thing and it would make the search easier if he knew what it was called.

A wide band of lace - maybe two inches, in deep blue - starting behind your neck and running over your breasts to cover each nipple. The lace continued downwards, framing your stomach before meeting and disappearing between your thighs. There were small straps that went from the lace behind your back, out of sight, that must be holding the thing in place. In the front two sets of straps criss-crossed, one just below your ribcage and the other between your breasts. And right there, right between two of the most beautiful breasts he’d ever seen, was a ribbon tied into a bow. Like a present.

He wanted to pull it apart with his teeth.

This… outfit had no practical use. If you moved too quickly you’d be falling out of it six different ways. It’s only purpose was to frame your body in the best light possible. To take your assets and offer them to someone else. To entice someone to commit several different sins with you all at once.

Santi was fucking enticed.

He realized abruptly that your fingers were twitching at your sides and more importantly, he had been just staring at you with no expression at all for what felt like several minutes - although it probably wasn’t that long.

"You’re beautiful," he blurted out.

Oh fuck, it wasn’t the right thing to say because you’re laughing and the motion is doing frankly amazing things to your breasts. But you were also crouching down and gathering your robe and yes that was definitely the wrong thing and he stepped forward, reaching out and grabbing your wrist before you could move further.

"Sorry, that was… you look…" he tried to find words that weren’t going to make you run away but all he could think about was how much he wanted to fuck you and if that lace actually joined together over your cunt or just skimmed around your thighs. "Fuck," he finally bit out.

"Well, that’s better," you said, picking up the robe with two fingers and standing up again.

"It is?" He asked incredulously and you laughed again.

"Santi, if I wanted someone to call me beautiful I’d take a photo on a Sunday morning and send it to my mom." You tried to make a gesture with your hands but he was still holding your wrist. You both glanced at it but he didn’t let go. "I want to hear I look hot. Like I’m smoking. Like you think you’ll come in your pants just seeing me." You gave him a wry smile and started to pull away. Started to put your robe back on and Santi rushed to stop you.

"Querida if you knew what I was thinking…"

You paused, partially turned away, and gave him an assessing glance. "Oh?"

His thumb stroked across your wrist while he considered his next words. He wouldn’t ordinarily. Fucking hell you were Frankie’s sister-in-law and he’d already been promised consequences for messing around with you. But your pulse was wild beneath his fingers and you were standing there looking like that and he just couldn’t bring himself to care about the consequences.

"You look like a fucking wet dream."

You dropped the robe, turning back to him fully. But he was too close. Too close to see you so he took a step back, then another, not letting go of your hand but holding it up between you while he let his eyes crawl over you.

"I’m going to jerk off later thinking about you," he said simply, watching you so closely he saw how your breath stuttered at the words. "Think about twisting my hands into that lacy bit of nothing and using it to hold you to my mouth. Is it scratchy or is it soft?"

"Soft," your reply was so low he barely heard it but it flowed across his skin like honey regardless and he didn’t bother biting back his moan.

"Fuck, of course it is," he nearly spit the words out, his fingers clenching around yours. "But you look even softer. Can I see the back?" He tugged on your hand as he asked and you didn’t hesitate before spinning around.

There was nothing there.

Well, not nothing. But five pieces of string no wider than fucking scotch tape was so close to nothing as to make no difference. He wanted to touch. Wanted to snap those strings against your body. Get on his knees and bite the globes of your ass that were perfectly exposed to him around the lines of what might charitably be called a thong.

"Fucking hell querida, I want to bend you over that table and fuck you until you can’t remember your own name."

You moaned. He heard it, clear as a bell in the room and he turned you back to face him. "When I say you look beautiful, that is what I mean. That I want to lose myself inside of you and not come out for days."

"That’s…" you trailed off, lips parted, your breath lifting your breasts in rhythmic motion.

"Validation?" He asked with a grin and laughed when you smiled in return.

"Yeah."

You were still holding his hand and he was sick of standing so far away from you. He pulled in the same motion he stepped towards you, encouraging you closer to his space. Looking down he could see your bare feet just a scant inch from his toes. If you took a deep breath your nipples would brush his shirt, hell if he took a deep breath they might. Ever so slowly he raised his free hand, hovering it over your chest before asking, "May I?"

"Please."

He groaned. Not 'yes,' but 'please' - said with a breathy moan that struck right to the heart of him. You were begging for his touch, your mouth slightly agape and your lips trembling with each breath. No man on earth could fault him for giving in. When his fingers touched the band of lace you took a shaky breath, eyes closing.

"It is soft," he commented, slipping his hand beneath to rub the fabric between his fingers. He slid his hand down, gently tracing over the lace until he felt the hard peak of your nipple pressing upwards. He paused for a second, lightly stroking, your entire body shifting underneath his touch, before he continued the path downwards. Over your stomach, your hip, just barely stroking at the top of your cunt.

"Soft," he said again and pressed his fingers a little harder, slipping between your lips and nudging at your clit. Your head fell back on a choked gasp and Santi’s control snapped. His hand wedged further, feeling your wetness coat along his fingers and forcing you to take a step back. Your ass hit the table behind you and he gently nudged your knees apart with his own. Now he had his answer, the lace never did join together between your thighs. There was absolutely nothing to stop him from twisting his fingers and pressing them up inside you.

You gasped again, his name this time, and he let go of your wrist to cup the back of your neck, jerking you forward and into his mouth. His tongue thrust inside, met immediately and enthusiastically by yours. Your hands came up to clutch at his shirt, twisting the fabric so hard he heard a faint rip at the seams. His lips quirked as he pulled away, his free hand falling to your wrist again.

"Seems I might be overdressed."

You nodded so earnestly he couldn’t help but grin, swooping in to kiss you again and pressing your hand to the buttons of his shirt. He could do it himself but that would mean pulling his fingers out of the hottest and wettest cunt he’d ever had the pleasure of being inside. And he wasn’t ready to do that yet. Instead he traced his fingers over the bow between your breasts, pulling gently before breaking away to ask, "What happens if I undo this?"

You had his shirt pulled free of his pants, the buttons undone and the fabric pushed back over his shoulders. He’d be more cocky about the lusty look on your face while you stared at his chest but he wanted an answer to his question so he tapped beneath your chin and forced you to look up. "The bow? What happens if I pull it?"

Your brows pulled together and you glanced down. "I think it’s decorative."

He hummed to himself and pulled, slightly disappointed when you turned out to be right. The sound of you undoing his belt hit his brain before he fully processed what your hands were doing and he finally pulled his fingers away from you, catching both of your wrists in his grip. You pouted, lips pursing and brow furrowing. Chuckling, he brushed his lips over yours and let you go, leaning down slightly to cup under your ass and lift you the few inches up onto the table.

"You got me distracted," he scolded, hooking one of the dining chairs with his foot and pulling it over. "I promised you my mouth, didn’t I?" Your eyes were hazy and he pressed a kiss to your temple before sitting in the chair, using his hands to spread your thighs wide. He stared for just a moment and then looked up at you, your breasts right at the level of his face. Never losing eye contact, he leaned forward and set his teeth to your nipple.

Christ, you made the most delightful faces for him. And noises too. He reached up and cupped your jaw in his hand, running his thumb along your lower lip where your teeth were digging into the soft flesh. He groaned when you pulled it into your mouth, your tongue caressing it and then sucking softly. He pressed his forehead to your chest, taking a deep breath.

"Lie back." He didn’t move as he said it, just mumbled the words into your cleavage. But he followed you when you did, catching a set of straps with his teeth and then letting go to turn his cheek to lay on your stomach. Slowly, he drew his fingers out of your mouth and down your body, grinning to himself when you shivered beneath his touch. Ticklish - he’d have to remember that for later.

He pressed a quick kiss to your navel and sat up, pulling your knees over his shoulders in one movement. You arched beneath him and he wasted no time tangling his fingers in that lacy bit of nothing you were wearing and pulling you closer to the edge of the table. He could see how wet you were, hell he could fucking smell it. That heady scent of arousal that made his cock jerk and his mouth water.

Santi moaned when he tasted you for the first time. It was partially technique, he knew the vibrations would riot across your nerve endings and drive you wild. But it was also just because he couldn’t fucking help it. He slid his tongue through your folds, pressing his tongue flat to you and burying his face into your cunt. He loved this. Loved making a woman squirm and moan for him. Loved the feel and taste and sound of it.

Loved that in this moment you were his.

He jerked his fingers tighter into the straps of your lingerie, digging into your hips and holding you still while he worked you with his tongue. Pressing his lips to your clit and shaking his head side to side, flicking his tongue over it, pulling it between his lips and humming. He pulled out every trick he knew, watching you heave and thrust and arch in his hands while he learned what you liked, what you didn’t like, and what drove you absolutely wild.

When he found that he kept at it, driving you higher and higher. Listened to you calling his name out while he coaxed your orgasm out of you. He wanted to be inside of you, wanted to feel the clench and pulse of your muscles while you came on his fingers. But before he could consider it, before he could try to untangle his fingers from your lingerie, your back arched a final time and he felt you get even wetter, your thighs clenching on his head.

Santi kept his mouth pressed against you while you came back down, gently licking deep inside you and staring up your body. You rose, propping yourself up on your elbows and giving him a bemused half smile and a huff of laughter.

"That was…" You started to say but he thrust his tongue inside you, pulling you closer and grinned when your back arched and your head fell back. "Fucking hell Santi…"

He turned his head to each side, placing soft kisses on your thighs before leaning back to look at you. "What else are friends for?"

God you were beautiful when you laughed, your eyes crinkling and your face breaking into a huge smile. "I feel very validated," you commented wryly and he nipped at your stomach, watching you flinch away from him and try to move backwards along the table. He twisted his hands in your outfit tighter, pulling you back.

"Now now," he tsked. " Where do you think you’re going?"

You stared at him and then sighed, reaching out and brushing a curl off his forehead. "You’re too close."

Santi felt his brows pull together. "What do you mean?"

Sitting up fully, you cupped his face in your hands and leaned down to kiss him, tongue stroking along the seam of his mouth. Tasting yourself on him. You pulled away with a small hum. "You’re too close to the table, I can’t fit in your lap."

The screech of the chair legs was loud in the room but it was covered up by the sound of your laugh. Santi pulled you off the table and onto his thighs, catching the joyful noise with his lips. You wrapped yourself around him immediately, settling onto him like you’d done it a thousand times before. This was… all of your bare skin. On him. Around him. At his fingertips.

He groaned when you pulled your mouth away. "I know there was talk of bending me over the table…" Okay, yes, he was listening. "But I was thinking maybe a softer surface, something more conducive to taking our time…"

The hesitancy in your voice hit him hard and he squeezed your sides and pulled your mouth back to his. "That is a fantastic idea," he mumbled against you. "I know of this great place just down the hall. King size bed. Just changed the sheets yesterday."

Your giggle sent pulse points of sensation through his body and he helped you stand up, unable to stop himself from leaning forward and pressing a kiss between your breasts before he did the same. He motioned you ahead of him down the hall. By all rights he should be leading - it was his room you were going to - but he couldn’t resist the opportunity to walk behind you. To watch all of you dip and sway as you sauntered in front of him. He reached out and cupped under your ass, pinching slightly and watched you jump and turn around right in his doorway. He didn’t stop, kept walking, shrugging out of his shirt and letting it drop to the floor. His hands fell to your hips, holding you close and dipping his head down to kiss you while he continued to back you up towards his bed.

He had a moment of disappointment when you ducked out of his embrace before you got there, side-stepping him and trailing a hand across his chest while you moved behind him. He leaned back against you when you wrapped your arms around his chest, groaning as your hands glided over him. You pressed a kiss to the back of his neck, licking up to his hairline. A shudder wracked his body and his hands covered yours, pulling you tighter around him.

"I want to see you," he heard you murmur into his ear, dropping one hand to his belt. "Help?"

"Anything you want," he promised quickly, pulling the belt free and jerking his pants and socks off together. He was left in only his black briefs and his thumbs hooked on them before he felt you stop him with a light touch. You ran your hands around the band, toying with it slightly. His fists clenched at his sides while he resisted the urge to turn around and toss you over onto his bed.

"May I return the favor?"

"What fa-" he started to ask but the words ended in a groan when you slipped your hand beneath his briefs and cupped the hard length of him. Fuck yes. Whatever the favor was you could return it as many times as you liked. As long as you kept stroking along him with those soft fingers and your other hand pushing his underwear down, down, down… much further down than you should be able to reach. It wasn’t until he felt you nip gently just at the top of his thigh that he realized you were kneeling on the floor behind him.

He turned without prompting, kicking his briefs off and nearly fell to the ground himself when you immediately took him in your mouth. "Oh Jesus fuck querida," he moaned, cupping the back of your head in his hands, "you’re going to kill me."

The pleased little hum that vibrated along his cock made his spine tingle. It turned into a shudder when you slid your mouth down him and felt himself nudge the back of your throat for a moment before you pulled away. Your hands were on him, thumbs pressed to the tops of his thighs as you guided him into a slow steady rhythm. Fucking in to your mouth and your tongue working against him.

He ought to close his eyes. The visual of you kneeling on the floor, that scrappy bit of nothing that was going to haunt his fucking dreams, your lips wrapped around his cock - it was too much. He jerked one hand off your head to grip the base of his cock tightly, giving you a half smile when you stopped sucking on him and gave him a quizzical look.

"You’re too good at that," he said with a shrug.

There was no way he could miss the pleased expression on your face, or the way you took the tip of him back into your mouth, swirling your tongue around him. Your hand knocked his out of the way, guiding it back on to your head and then going back to stroke along him. It felt like you were taking all of him - every last inch into that perfect mouth. He let go of his tightly held control and just surrendered to the pleasure. Mentally cataloguing the sight and sound and feel of you and the best goddamn blowjob he’d ever had.

When he came it was sudden, he didn’t even have time to warn you. His toes curled and his eyes rolled back in his head and he grunted - the only sign before he was coming in to your mouth but you didn’t seemed phased, just sucked and fucking hell swallowed as he shuddered and cursed and stroked your face.

When the last drop of pleasure was wrung out of him he stumbled backwards, knees hitting the bed and he sprawled across it. His chest was heaving, one arm over his eyes while he tried to remember what his name was. He peeked out from under his forearm in time to see you rise to your feet, wiping the corner of your mouth with your thumb and licking it.

"Fucking hell woman," he groaned, lifting his head slightly to look at you.

Your hands rose to the neck of the lingerie you had on. "Should I-?"

"Don’t you fucking dare," Santi growled, pointing at you for good measure and flopping back on the bed. "I’m not done with you," he said to the ceiling. "Just give me like… thirty minutes."

Your laugh floated across the room to him and he felt your weight shift the bed to each side of him. Suddenly his vision was you, straddling his waist and leaning over him. "Thirty minutes huh?"

He grinned and reached out to pull your hips closer. Smiling to himself he ran his fingers under the lace, rubbing it between his fingers. "With this thing? Maybe ten."

Frankie was going to murder him.

Somehow, he couldn’t make himself care.

-

Part Two : Corroboration