#and the job is tattooing so I’m drawing all the damn time so I get tired

[jen-iii]

I got really into Twice after seeing them in concert this last June and I have been saving everyone with my restraint of talking about them because the hyperfixation is absolutely astounding right now anyways here’s my Bias Sana

[elvenbeard]

Morning Routine

"Can I borrow your eyeliner?" Kerry asked, causing V to pause a moment.

"Yeah, sure thing," he then said and handed him the pencil.

"What?" Kerry looked at him with eyes slighly narrowed, but smiling still.

"No, nothin'," V shrugged, looking at their reflection in the mirror, side-by-side, getting ready to head out, as if it was the most normal, natural thing already, "But... I think it's the first time I have someone over to ask me that."

Kerry chuckled.

"Well, better get used to it."

lkdadjfdlljdfasdflökdf it's finally done and I have so. many. feels.

First of all... I started this ages ago, as a funny little doodle idea for the morning after Boat Drinks. In my HC they go to V's apartment after the end of the yacht trip. Then halfway through the lineart I realized "I'll have to draw Vince's vanilla tattoos again..." which I really didn't want to, so I put it on hold and went to design his custom tattoos I had wanted to give him for so long anyways. Then when that was finally done, my graphics tablet acted up and I physically couldn't finish the drawing even though I had time. Then so much work stress and prep for the con happened inbetween and yeh... it's been a journey and a half to get here, but I'm very happy to have arrived and how it all turned out xD

Then also... my feels ;___; Vince has had a variety of relationships in the past, but either they never got serious enough for his partners to even end up staying the night, or they weren't as alternative in the way to dress and present themselves as he is. He was always the odd one out in one way or another, in his relationships, in past jobs, the one that either had to try to fit in or accept that he never would. So, it's something super minor really, but Kerry asking to borrow some of his makeup is a surprisingly huge deal for him in that moment, catching him off guard. Another instance of "you just get me" that they keep having with each other over and over again which makes them click so well and so fast. Like, Vince doesn't give a damn about what other people think about him anymore, dresses and presents himself however he wants and feels like. But Kerry makes him feel "normal" in the sense that he can just be himself authentically by not fitting in. He also has his quirks and an outwardly loud appearance and personality and all that, they just match so well, even though at first glance they don’t seem to... I know I'm rambling and only making half sense but I just love them lots, okay? xD Thanks for coming to my TED talk!

Since you've read this far, here's a short process gif as a treat:

[lunarcrown]

Hello, I was wondering if you currently took commissions . I see you’ve done them in the past but I can’t find any recent info about them.

If they are currently closed or you just aren’t doing them anymore then that’s completely fine!

Have a nice day/ night!

HOWDY!!!!!!

I’m not takin commissions right now! But thank you for asking and for the interest!!!!

I sort of do them on the regular for custom tattoo appointments for my job and thus on my time off I just wanna draw rando stuff usually! I took some in the past for a kitty emergency and MAYBE sometime again this year I’ll take more just for funsies!

I’ll be sure to let y’all know when I’m gonna across all platforms! But idk exactly when so don’t get nervous like “ahhh damn I’m gonna have to check every day….” I’ll do plenty of pre-pre-announcing if/when I do!

[hostagex]

Ultra Black

Chapter One

“Fuck that hurts! If you don’t finish up soon I might tap out man. Seriously, we've been going for how many hours and you’re still not done? I swear to God next time I’m gonna sit in Himiko’s chair and not yours!” His client says, pain and something akin to desperation in his voice.

“Oh don’t start with this shit again Jin.” He said with an exasperated tone of voice, doing a quick wipe down of the area before sticking the round liner shading needle into the deep obsidian ink and continuing on. The piece was coming along beautifully. A large shoulder tattoo consisting of an intricate sacred geometry tree of life morphing away into stippled dots.

“We both know you wouldn’t tap and risk me not finishing while I’m ahead. Besides, I’m at least an hour ahead of schedule. And like I said not five minutes ago, we have around thirty more minutes before you’re done.” With a smirk, he sets down the needle for a moment to wet a new piece of paper-towel and clear the ink off more thoroughly than with just applying some vaseline.

“Also you would never be brave enough to sit in Himiko’s chair. You’re way too chicken-shit!” The artist lets out a laugh, tongue piercing glinting under the studio lights.

“Oh fuck off Deku! I will! That’s a damn promise! You hear me?!” In his need to prove his point, he shifted on the table, almost ruining the final bout of shading the artist had to finish up on.

“Jin, I swear to God if you move one more time you’re barred from my table and you’ll have no choice BUT to go to them for the rest of your shit!” He exclaimed, loud enough to be heard by the patrons in the lobby.

“Oh fuck! Sorry Deku!” Jin settled in once more, his face still showing his distaste of his artist's words. “Anyways, like I was saying…I have a plan. It’s foolproof ya hear? It’s a five step plan to get that angel to go out with me and become mine…” Jin trailed off, sighing lovingly. Just as he was about to go into detail about his plan, the buzzing of the needle stopped.

“I’ve heard that a million times dude. Everyone is dying to get in their pants. But just a heads up, it’ll take more than a shoddy plan to get with them I can promise you that” He said, a slight smile on his lips before his tongue poked through and touched the top ball of his vertical labret, a habit he had yet to shake. He wiped down the tattoo and shifted himself off the wheeling stool and stood up, walking over to his designated trash can to chuck his black sterile gloves as well as black surgical mask.

“Alright, we are all done man. Take a look in the mirror and let me know your final thoughts. While you’re at it, go ahead and say hey to Himiko and get that plan you’re so sure about started.” He said with a cheeky grin and wink, adjusting his round glasses and leaning back against the wall next to the sink, his arms and legs crossed, sporting all-black attire with black combat boots to match.

Deku, award winning tattoo artist and owner of Ultra Black Tattoo. Known to the public as an uber-talented artist who got his big break back when he was fresh out of high school, being mentored by none other than world-renowned American traditional-style artist Toshinori Yagi. For five steady years he was apprenticing with Toshinori before eventually deciding to open up his own shop with his specialty being that of fine line black and gray.

That’s the public image he carefully crafted while spending his years apprenticing. The personal image not many get to see is that of Izuku Midoriya. Son of Inko Midoriya, father leaving before he could even utter his first word, which just so happened to be art. Izuku spent his formidable years with his hands constantly on a paintbrush, never leaving the house without some sort of notebook to draw in. Growing up, he always felt like an outcast, what with him not having a father in the house and his mother working two, sometimes three, jobs in order to keep the house up and running. He always happened to be bullied for not having the newest clothes or for wearing his red high-top converse, a thirteenth birthday gift from his mother, so much that they had holes in them. Art ended up being his only solace from all the noise of the crowd.

One day, in his first year of high school, his teacher, Shota Aizawa, told him something he would never forget until the day he died. That magic doesn’t come from talent alone, it comes from pain. That all the pain and suffering he was going through or would experience in life, would turn into something magical and worthwhile. That you don’t get beauty just by being lucky or good at something. That true beauty comes from deep personal emotion. The quote meant so much to him that the moment he was legal, he took some of his savings and took the train to his now mentor and got his first tattoo. The quote his high school teacher had said to him in his time of need atop his chest, right over his heart. The tattoo was the first of many, and Izuku’s first look into the cruel, beautiful, rough, magnificent tattoo industry.

With a grunt from his client, Izuku was brought out of his daze just enough to see him show a particular finger in the air. Jin walked over to the oversized mirror on the other side of the studio, taking in his new piece of art permanently on him. He let out a low whistle and grinned from ear-to-ear.

“Shit Deku you really outdid yourself with this one.” Jin said, looking up and down and from different angles, even taking a few pictures of his new art. Izuku shoved himself off the nearby wall and walked over to his client, putting his hand on the non-tattooed shoulder. “Yeah, yeah you always say that. This is what? The eighth piece you’ve gotten from me? In what? A year? I bet you would break out into hives if you even thought of going to another artist!” Izuku exclaimed, laughing.

Jin blushed softly before shoving the artist's hand away and walking back over to the table, taking a seat. “Just wrap me up will you? I have shit to do and I can’t take all day getting some ink.”

Hearing this, Izuku raised one of his brows coyly and walked back over to his client. He opened up his drawer and put on a fresh set of gloves before taking out the tegaderm and applying an even film over the fresh piece. “You don’t have all day? Jin I’ve heard what you do for work and I know for a fact you have plenty of time on your hands. So spill. What has your dick all in a knot?” Tegaderm applied, Izuku discarded his gloves once more and began the process of disassembling his tattoo gun and throwing away the used needle into the biohazard container.

“First of all, fuck you. Second of all, today is the soft opening of that new flower shop on the other side of town and they have a special where if you buy a bouquet they’ll include a second smaller bouquet for free.” Jin brings his arm up and rubs the back of his head, blushing like a fool in the process. “And I thought it might be nice to get, uh, Himiko some flowers ya know?”

Hearing this, Izuku bent forward and started cackling like a mad man.”Jin you fucking sap! There’s no way in hell you think they’re going to be into all this frilly girly shit? Himiko? The person who on numerous occasions has had to put you in your place because you made some shitty ass ‘that’s what she said’ jokes?” Izuku continued to laugh, causing his other artists and the people in the lobby to look over. His client punched him in the arm, hard.

“I’m being serious asshat! Besides, who doesn’t like flowers? Just because they’re non-binary doesn’t mean they don’t like flowers? I mean, if anything you’re kind of sexist for assuming they wouldn’t…” Jin said, eyebrows raised. Izuku sighed and began walking over to the reception area, signaling his client it was time to pay and to follow in his stead.

“Jin, you know I’m not saying anything like that. I just know them personally. You’ve only known them from seeing quick peaks every now and then when you get some work done. But if you think flowers are the way to their heart then go for it my guy. The stage is all yours. I’ll even send you a text letting you know how the flower-receiving goes.” He said with a genuine smile. Jin broke out in a grin and hugged the artist over the reception counter.

“Thanks man! That means so much! I’ll be sure to let you know the day they’re being delivered too!” He said as he was heading out the door of the shop.

“Wait hold up! I didn’t catch the name of the shop! What was it again so I know what to expect and from where?” Izuku called out across the room.

“Oh shit sorry! The place is called Dynamite Flowers!”

——————

After closing up the shop, Izuku took the train back to his apartment. A spacious two bed, one bath, on the fourth floor with a view overlooking the downtown area. Putting the key into the lock, he turned it and opened the door. Immediately being jumped on by a fellow member of his family.

“Hi there Inky! Did you miss me today girl?” Izuku asked with a big smile on his face. The dog, Inky, a mutt Izuku adopted from the nearest shelter, barked at him. The dog was a rough mixture of Chihuahua, Dachshund, and Maltese. All coming together, she looked to be a small, long, ball of tan fur. The dog barked at her owner once more before running around in the living room as well as the adjoined kitchen.

Izuku laughed and set down his work backpack on the floor and kicked off his boots before setting his keys down on the entryway table. “Yeah yeah I know it was a long day without me huh? Well don’t worry girl tomorrow is my off day and you get me all to yourself! How does that sound?” He said with a bright smile. In return, the dog gave him a bark. The man laughed and walked over to the kitchen, getting food ready for both himself and his companion.

“What are we feelin’ today Inky? Chicken? Beef? Or salmon?” Right as the word slipped his tongue, the fluff all barked. “Alright, alright I hear you! Salmon it is!” Grabbing the corresponding can, he opened it and poured the contents out over a bit of dry pellets. “Now don’t forget to eat your crunchies too. I know you like the wet stuff the most but the crunchies are what’s good for you!” Almost as if the dog could understand him, she let out a huff of disagreement. Izuku laughed and set down the bowl on the floor and let the dog go to town on her nightly meal.

“Alright. Now that that’s all taken care of…” Izuku sighed and padded over to his master bedroom. Opening the closet, he took off his long-sleeved black turtleneck shirt and tight black skinny jeans, leaving him only in his mismatched socks and stark white Calvin Klein briefs. He shoved the days clothes into his laundry basket and decided to wear an old tattoo convention T-shirt for the night.

Walking back into the kitchen, Izuku spotted Inky on top of the couch curled into a ball, content after finishing her meal. Izuku looked down at the food bowl and noticed a substantial amount of pellets left. He smirked and let out a low huff of laughter. “Damn traitor. This is the thanks I get for giving you a 5 star meal?” He smiled and begins the process of getting his own dinner ready. The process takes all of 5 minutes before he realizes there in nothing enticing in either the cabinets or the refrigerator.

“Shit. It looks like tomorrow is grocery day.” Izuku sighs before picking up his front from the counter and setting himself alongside his companion. Scrolling through the food delivery app, he decides on pizza. “Better than a salad, huh Inks?” Izuku asks the sleeping dog, only receiving small sleep noises in return. Izuku smiles and places the order, settling in and putting his phone down.

The man must have fallen asleep because he was woken up by the harsh pounding of his front door. Izuku jolted awake and quickly shuffled his way to the door, nearly taking a face plant in the process. He opened the door and what stood before him was hardly his large cheese pizza. It was a tall, built man with spiky blonde hair and deep ember-colored eyes. Izuku gulped and gave the man a quick look up and down. He happened to be wearing a plain white T-shirt, loose fitting blue jeans, and a black apron. What got him was the wording on the apron. Dynamite Flowers.

“Hey are you going to just stand there or are you going to take these? I don’t have all day, dude.” The blonde gruffly said to him. Izuku was snapped out of his daze and looked into the other man’s eyes again. “Um yeah sure. Um.. take what exactly?”

“Tch. These flowers, dumbass. I have more deliveries to do so I can‘t just stand around here all day.” He said with a harsh tone of voice. Looking down more closely, Izuku noticed there was a bouquet of sunflowers and roses in the man’s hands. The bouquet that was being delivered to him apparently. “Oh shit my bad!” He took hold of the bouquet, hands skimming that of the man in front of him.

“Great. Now that that’s all taken care of…” The man gave a quick two finger salute and spun around, rushing off to the stairwell.

“Wait! I didn’t catch your name!” Izuku shouted out after him.

“…rd.” He heard coming from down the hall. Not sure what he heard, he looked down at the bouquet and took out the attached business card. Dynamite Flowers. Owned and operated by Katsuki Bakugo.

“Katsuki, huh?” He said aloud to himself before closing the front door and setting the flowers down on the entryway table.

If you liked this chapter pls show your support on AO3 ❤️

[a-nice-egg-offering]

15 questions for 15 mutuals

Tysm for the tag angel!! @ocularmacdown

Are you named after anyone?

Yes I am named after a famous reggae artist’s mother. So the name is of Jamaican origin and I always feel very embarrassed telling people what my name is as a very clearly white person lmao so far I’ve only had positive responses of people thinking it’s cool but I still cringe a little every time I say it. I guess I just don’t want to come across like one of those white twitter weeboos that name themselves asian names or something?? Idk I probably overthink it lol I generally go by a shortened version anyway tho bc the full one is unusual and people can get annoying and just say it all the time for no reason

Do you have any kids?

No but I want a lot, I’d like to adopt at least one too.

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

No

First thing you notice about people?

It’s relative isn’t it? I guess just the thing that stands out the most about whatever person is in question

What’s your eye colour?

Grey

Scary movies or happy endings?

I don’t think the two are mutually exclusive but I will say I generally prefer media that makes me want to rip my eyes out and jump into a fire pit. Ninety one whiskey for example though made me feel that and then I actually wouldn’t have been able to cope if it didn’t have a happy ending so sometimes both are necessary. I will say I’m not rly a fan of slasher movies, if it’s horror there has to be a psychological element to it for me

Special talents?

Throwing skittles/m&ms and catching them in my mouth

What are your hobbies?

Musical theatre, singing, acting, drawing, writing, editing, fandomming, playing guitar & piano

Have any pets?

I have 2 cats one is satan incarnate the other one is cute sometimes

What sports do you/have you played?

I did acrobatics and ballet from the age of 3 to 14 and I used to go to tennis summer camps, I do a mean serve

How tall are you?

Just under 5’6 (167cm) I see some people say 5’5 is short so often and it baffles me lol it’s really not. It’s above average for women in every country. & like I hate feeling tall and I always do bc everyone is so damn short

Favourite subject in school?

I loved german bc I was in love with my teacher lol I was actually very bad at languages tho so I think based on pure enjoyability of the subject itself I’d say english or when I got to college psychology.

Dream job?

Forensic psychologist, musical theatre performer, singer in general, tattoo artist, special FX make up artist (what I’m actually trained to do lol) or cake decorator

U think my adhd ass is gonna remember 15 names to tag? I’m just gonna do ones that come up in my suggested @cauldronofmorning @boyantigone @kkshowtunes @definitelynotdennisreynolds @kod-lyoko @scorchedfangirl

[sukirichi]

— there’s always a price to pay when you get your hands on a work of art.

PAIRING: tattoo! artist megumi x reader

REQUEST. tattoo artist au + mutual pining + size kink, praise kink, thigh riding + reader is shorter than megumi and isn’t shy 

WARNINGS: feral megumi, scratching, vaginal sex, size kink, praise kink, mature content, slight overstimulation, sexual tension lol, unedited story

NOTES: ah thank you so much for this request, I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Here is my third contribution for FERAL MEGUMI FRIDAYS! and oh wow tattoo artist megumi uh no thoughts head empty

WC: 5.4k+

The tattoo saloon loomed over you, the neon signs almost blinding in the darkness. You could feel your heart pick up its pace in your chest as you hitched your bag up higher, the excitement settling in your toes. Mustering up the brightest smile you could have, you cleared your throat and pushed the door open, the tiny bell on top jingling to signal your arrival.

Your eyes roamed around the walls covered with intricate drawings, the leather seats dark and kept in pristine. Now that was rare – your leather couches always wore out in just a few weeks.

Making your way inside, grip on your sling bag still tight, you bit your lip as you peaked behind the counter. Empty. No one was there, and the nearby opened rooms were empty as well. Scratching your head, you scrunched your nose in confusion. You were sure you got the right place.

With a heavy sigh, you turned to leave, then stopped in your tracks when a dark-haired man exited a door you hadn’t even noticed at first.

He was tall – taller than you; his arms stretched until the sleeves of his black hoodie were pulled down, revealing a sliver of black tattoos that marked his skin. Upon hearing your awed gasp, his cold blue eyes fluttered to yours, the man – who was absolutely handsome despite his frown – froze in his spot.

You waved a hand to him, your smile bigger than ever. “Hi!” So you would be working with this cute guy? Maybe job-hunting wasn’t such a bad experience, after all.

“Hey,” he drawled out hesitantly, approaching you with his ink stained fingers pointed at you. He was still frowning, which was a damn shame, since you were sure he’d look even hotter if he smiled. “So...you’re Y/N.”

“Yeah!”

“And you...” he tilted his head to the side, inquisitive eyes studying your form. You would’ve felt conscious with the way his brows furrowed, eyes unreadable and lips pressed into a thin line, but you were sure you dressed to impress on your first interview. You admitted, however, that maybe wearing a white collared shirt with a pink tennis skirt made you stand out like a sore thumb in the heaviness of the studio. “...want to be a front desk man here?”

“Yeah!”

“What makes you think you’re qualified for this?” he crossed his arms on his chest, and you didn’t miss the slight bite of his voice. So he was handsome – but cranky. Great. “You don’t look like you fit in here.”

“Judging someone’s appearance and inferring that it has any relation to their credentials isn’t such a professional thing to do, you know,” you raised your chin proudly, jutting a pointer finger to his chest. He clearly didn’t expect this because he scowled and took a step back, while you fought the grin that threatened to paint your face. “Would you like it if people told you that you’re not qualified to be a lawyer because of your tattoos and piercings?”

He scoffed, “I don’t want to be a lawyer. As you can see, I’m a tattoo artist. And to answer your question, no, I don’t give a fuck what people think about me.”

“I can tell,” you muttered to yourself before smiling back up at him. He was too easy to read; his brow quivering and lips firm at your faux enthusiasm. “But yes, I do believe I’m qualified! I’m a fast learner and I’m even quick on my feet! I’m really good at talking to people too so I believe I can help schedule client appointments really well and guide them with this whole process.”

“Being front desk man doesn’t mean serving the clients tea and biscuits.”

“I know.”

“You know?” he snorted with a roll of his eyes. He then gestured you to follow him all the way back to the front desk. You expected he’d teach you about how to handle the appointment books or pick up phone calls, but instead he plopped down on the leather couch of the waiting area, his legs crossed on top of the other.

Your eyes followed the patch of pale skin exposed from his ripped jeans before you looked away, not wanting him to see that you found him attractive despite his less than welcoming personality.

“What exactly do you know about this industry?”

“Nothing, to be honest, but I’m not here to be a tattoo artist or anything. I just really need a job and I assure you I’ve got plenty of experience and knowledge when it comes to manning front desks or counters,” you stated confidently, “I know I look out of place, but I really need this job.”

The man only narrowed his eyes at you. Contemplation was written all over his face, probably wondering why you couldn’t just work somewhere else. “Why come here, of all places?”

“Because it’s the only one that has a flexible schedule,” you sighed, “I can’t work shifts anymore because I’m too busy at university. From when I talked to your boss – Geto, was it? – he said that the salon was open 24/7 and I could work until before my classes start. He’s not really strict about that kind of thing.”

“So you mean to tell me,” he leaned forwards, looping his fingers with one another while his ice cold gaze slithered over your desperate ones. “You’ll be at university for half the day, sleep until midnight, and then come here to work and attend class a few hours later? Isn’t your schedule a little irregular?”

“Oh no, it’s not like that! I also have mock classes after uni and it lasts until late at night, then I help clean at the local shelter. They’re running out of volunteers and the dogs are really adorable and take my stress away so...I make sure to come by when I have time.”

“You are one odd creature,” he noted loudly, almost as if he wasn’t completely aware he vocalized his thoughts. Well, at least now you knew he wasn’t the type to think his words over, which either made him more entertaining – or insufferable the longer you worked with him – if you began working anyway. “You could’ve used your spare time to rest. Do you even eat?”

“Yeah, I have a granola bar right now with me! I actually brought two,” you pulled out the snack from your bag, “You want some? I only got the oats, though.”

“Keep it to yourself,” he rolled his eyes, slapping his hands over his knees before rummaging over something behind the counter. “Fine. If Geto said he’s okay with you, then you’re hired.”

“Really, that easy?” your eyes widened, but then you chuckled when this strange man glared at you in response. He sighed as he pulled out a piece of paper, a pen on top of it. The papers read something about application forms and credentials, and you beamed, happily writing your information away with a slight bounce in your toes.

Unable to keep your happiness to yourself, you looked back at the bored man, wiggling your eyebrows playfully. “Huh. I was kind of expecting you would grill me – you’ve got that scary look in your eye. Let me guess, you often scare clients off?”

It seemed he could never get tired of glaring at you, because his eyes fuelled with heat as he leaned against the wall.

You hated to admit that he looked ridiculously handsome like that – the guy wasn’t even doing anything remotely attractive in the first place!

“I’m the most booked artist here, and I ask that you don’t get too comfortable with me. You haven’t even started working here and you’re already riling up on my train,” he groaned when you merely laughed in response. He made quick work of signing something in your form before handing you a key. “Here’s for your locker. Come to work tomorrow. Geto won’t be around for a week so I’ll be the one judging your performance. If you fuck up in the slightest – I won’t hesitate to fire you, you understand? We always have Yuuji coming around anyway, you’re really not that needed for the front desk.”

“Oh,” you nodded at his harshness, unsure whether to feel threatened or amused. “O-okay. I’ll do my best then. I look forward to you – ah, wait, what’s your name?”

“Fushiguro Megumi.”

“Oh, that’s a pretty name,” you muttered to yourself, uttering his name over and over again until it rolled smoothly on your tongue. “Shame you have a shitty attitude along with that handsome face, though.”

“You trying to say something?”

You faced him, about to laugh when he scowled at your not-so-subtle comments. Waving your hands to him, you made your way out the door, your smile only irritating him further. “No, I wasn’t. I’ll be taking my leave then – see you tomorrow!”

Seems like working in a tattoo studio wouldn’t be so bad.

You came to work the next day early and pumped with adrenaline. The idea of meeting the moody tattoo artist caused you to be giggly and happy the whole day, not even feeling the exhaustion of a long day of hard work as you made your way inside the shop.

Clocking in at exactly two in the morning, you proudly tugged your name badge on top of your left breast, patting it for good luck.

The bells jingled, making you look away from your tag. “Good morning – oh, where’s Megumi?” The man standing in front of you was taller than Megumi, his head nearly knocking over the doorframe if it wasn’t for his poor, slouched lanky frame.

He had white hair that brushed atop his cerulean blue eyes, and your eyes widened because wow, he was beautiful.

“Hey, you must be Y/N! Megumi told me you came around yesterday but he didn’t tell me the counter girl was this pretty,” He was in front of you the next second, his nose nearly grazing over yours that had you leaning back into the wall for space. “Hmm...he didn’t tell me that at all.”

“Oh, thank you. You are...?”

“I’m Gojo Satoru, one of the senior artists here. Since Megumi isn’t here yet, let me give you a tour!” Before you could react, Satoru already had an arm wrapped around your shoulder, his other arm waving and pointing to all the hung paintings and labels on each door. You found it odd that he treated you like you were an old friend, but you weren’t going to complain. Nice co-workers were always welcomed.

“Here is the holding area where clients wait to get their session done. This is Geto’s studio and right next to that is his office where he does all the finances and all that jazz, while this is my studio. Cool, isn’t it?”

Your mouth fell ajar as Satoru led you inside his studio, the walls painted the same aquatic shade of his eyes, but what caught your attention was the galaxy themed tattoo designs he made. They came in different shapes – a volcano head, a dragon, a worm, a four-armed monster – but inside them were all galaxies with sparkling and burning stars. You could see everything and nothing all at the same time.

“Whoa, you made all this?!”

Satoru’s chest puffed out proudly, “Yeah, I did. I’m flattered by your reaction, I really am, but you haven’t seen Megumi’s yet. There’s a reason our salon boomed even though he’s only been working here for two years.”

At the mention of his name, your interest was piqued, all ears and curious smiles directed to Satoru. “Oh, can I see Megumi’s studio?”

“You can – if you book an appointment.”

“But I don’t plan on getting any tattoos,” you frowned.

“You’ll never get to see his work then,” he chuckled to himself, the sound growing louder when you visibly deflated. What was the point of getting your hopes up like that then? “Megumi doesn’t like letting others in his studio without permission or an appointment.”

“Why not?”

“He’s just iffy about it,” he shrugged, “Don’t bother trying to decode his personality anymore, Megumi’s very hard to understand. Though if I were to make sense of it...” he rubbed his chin, eyes looking out into the distance. “I guess you could say Megumi’s not the type to be showy when it comes to his work of art. Did that clear it up?”

You blinked back blankly. “No, not really. But it’s fine – I don’t plan on getting to know him anyway.”

That was the biggest lie of your life.

The moment Megumi came around a few minutes later, a loud groan upon your animated greeting over his arrival, your chest bloomed with a different kind of fluttery warmth. He rarely came out after that, clients swarming in to both his and Satoru’s studios, but each faint glimpse of his door cracking open that allowed you to see him focused as he worked, you could no longer deny the heat burning down your legs.

You crushed on the grumpy tattoo artist.

And the more you came around work, greeting him zealously and teasing him to no end that he’d look hotter if he smiled, your crush only intensified for him – completely unaware that he too, couldn’t get his thoughts off of you even with his door closed.

In fact, he kept his door closed all the time because your voice distracted him too much.

“Hey, Y/N, you free?”

You looked up from the textbook you were reviewing, slamming it shut when Satoru’s head peeked out from his studio. He was still wearing gloves with a pen between his fingers, most likely still in the middle of a session.

“Yep! We don’t have appointments yet and I’ve already closed it for non-appointees. Did you need me to get you something?”

“Yeah, could you get Megumi for me? He isn’t picking his phone up and one of our special clients are coming soon. I’m packed right now so I can’t fetch him. I’ll send you the address and you get him, yeah? Just open the counter if you need money for a cab.”

You blinked owlishly at him. On one side, you’d be more than glad to see Megumi again. He hadn’t arrived despite it being four in the morning already, and you were worried, but you also didn’t have his number to ask how he was doing. Progress with Megumi was...slow, to say the least.

He still holed himself up in his studio, coming out only for bathroom breaks, although you noticed a drastic improvement when he finally began to mutter an almost shy “good morning” under his breath for the past few weeks.

It wasn’t much, but you’d have to make do.

“Uhm, when is this client of his coming? Should I run...?”

“Yeah, you need to fucking run. They’re coming in an hour and a half!” Satoru exclaimed, flailing his hands around like a madman.

Even after working with him for some time, you still couldn’t believe the older man was practically a man child, even asking for head pats sometimes. He would lean down with a pout, using a squeaky voice to call your attention, which always succeeded in Megumi fake gagging before he locked himself inside his studio.

“Forwarded you his address. Really sorry for the inconvenience, Y/N!”

“It’s okay!” you jumped out of your seat in an instant, not bothering to take your name tag off anymore as you left the salon, hailing the nearest cab.

Megumi lived quite far from the salon, which had you wondering why he chose to work there when there were plenty of salons in his area too. His place looked shady, as well, his apartment in a high-rise building with endless graffiti and several drunk stragglers hooting for you.

You ignored them all, taking two steps at a time from his staircase, your hands on your knees as you panted for air. Why did he have to live on the tenth floor?

“Megumi! Megumi!” you banged your fist on the door, throat parched from your sudden cardio session. You were sure you burned ten calories just from that sprint, and you sighed in relief when Megumi swung the door open, still looking handsome – and sleep-deprived – as ever in his black shirt and black skinny jeans.

“What?” he demanded. After seeing that it was you, he quickly snatched a water bottle and passed it your way, closing his door behind him. “Y/N? What are you doing here? How’d you know where I live?”

“Satoru said you had a really important client. You weren’t picking your phone up so he sent me to come get you.”

“It’s my day off,” he grumbled, answering your silent questions, your worries dissipating into thin air. Once you’d satisfied yourself by basically dunking the entire bottle, Megumi rolled his eyes, his hands flat on the small of your back while he guided you downstairs. The sudden touch flamed your cheeks; a stupid smile on your face. You were shameless, though, leaning back closer to him in the darkness of the early morning. “Why does he send a girl out of all people?”

“Something wrong with that?”

“It’s unsafe. My neighbourhood isn’t the best and who knows what would’ve happened to you if some goons came out?” Megumi hailed for a back, surprising you when he let you get in first and paid for the fee despite your outstretched hand prepared with the bills. “I can’t believe Sukuna chose this day to come of all times. I can never get a damn break.”

“Sukuna?”

“A special client. He’s a really huge tipper and comes on odd schedules – I didn’t think he’d come now.”

“Yeah, I checked the papers and he wasn’t there,” you frowned to yourself.

Megumi pressed his head against the window, eyes closed as his chest heaved up and down rhythmically. With the sun slowly shining from behind you, the golden stretches of it outlined his sharp features you adored, and you rested your chin on your palms, eyelashes fluttering at his beauty. “You know, Megumi, you’re really pissy sometimes – but you’re quite nice, aren’t you? I’d say you were even worried for me.”

He cracked one eye open, those blue eyes still shining with irritation, but make no mistake since his ears were flushed red. “I’m not. I just don’t want to be involved in a police investigation if they find your body near here.”

“How sweet of you.”

“Shut up.”

You and Megumi were beginning to get closer. You couldn’t pinpoint where he started to grow more comfortable with you, but it was definitely there and it was painfully evident that even someone stupid like Satoru noticed the sexual between you two.

He would always sniff the air whenever you and Megumi sat next to each other during lunch breaks, a wide grin on your face while Megumi buried his face in his hands, groaning because he knew the moment Satoru opened his mouth, nothing but dumb comments would come out. And dumb comments they were; the white-haired man merciless as he teased Megumi for acting like a cute little kid around you.

You never took it to heart, though. It was Megumi you were talking about; he was hot and cold; sweet then distant from one moment then an entire person the next.

Not that you minded, it only added to your fuelling crush on him, but you couldn’t control the way your heart fluttered every time Satoru whispered that he did like you, excusing that Megumi just wasn’t the best with words. Apparently, Megumi had spent too much time holed up in his apartment and studio that he had zero to little knowledge on how to talk to pretty girls – especially one that was clearly attracted to him as well.

Satoru encouraged you to go for it – that you should confess or break the ice first otherwise Megumi would never do anything about his raging boner every time you came around.

You only flushed at his statement, but you couldn’t deny that you too felt the same way.

One morning where Satoru and Geto were out restocking supplies, you and Megumi were left alone in the salon. Of course, he still resorted in the comfort of his studio, muttering under his breath that he wanted to try some designs before disappearing. Only this time, he left the door slightly open, the lights peeking through the slight crack.

Walking up to him with muted footsteps, you leaned over his shoulder, glancing over a sketch of...you? “Are you drawing me?”

Megumi yelped at your voice right next to his ear, throwing the paper away on the other side of the room before glaring at you. You laughed at his reaction, because how was it possible he was both so criminally sexy yet adorable? He looked terribly gorgeous today, as well, wearing a short sleeved black hoodie and black sweatpants, looking so comfortable and boyfriend like – and you couldn’t even begin to express your appreciation over his new lip piercing.

“Why do you always sneak up on me?” he snapped, “Didn’t I tell you I wanted privacy?”

“Then why aren’t you pushing me away?”

Megumi sighed exasperatedly, turning back to organize his pencils before glaring at you. “What do you want? Got no one else to bother since Satoru isn’t around?”

“I just wanted to see your art,” you mentioned, but kept your eyes directed on him instead of the plethora of sketches and designs hanging from his wall as to not offend him. “Satoru told me to never come inside. He said you’re really...private when it comes to your works,” you furrowed your brows at the last part, feeling your heart beat pulse at your tongue.

It was now or never.

“Can I see your tattoos too?”

“Why do you want to see them?”

“A work of art on a canvas who’s also a work of art himself?” you finally gained confidence to tease him again, getting riled up further when Megumi stiffened at your curious hands travelling under his shirt. His breath sharpened as his glare only deepened, though he didn’t make a move to stop you. “Why wouldn’t I want to see that?”

“Being flirty doesn’t work on you. It’s not cute.”

“You’re blushing though,” you remarked. Megumi groaned and pushed your face away until your buttocks landed on his recliner. Satisfied with Megumi not completely kicking you out, you swung your legs back and forth, still staring at his hoodie as if it was an offensive material.

“Can I...see?” Megumi rolled his eyes before he lifted his shirt up, revealing to you intricate patches of black ink splattered over ripples of muscles. Your mouth salivated, and somewhere down there, you drooled too. Tentatively, your hands reached out to finger the image of canines, Megumi shuddering over your cold touch on his warm skin. “It’s beautiful. What does it mean?”

Megumi pursed his lips before whispering, “These are the dogs I had as a child. My father got me them so I wouldn’t be too lonely when he’s away from work.”

“They’re very pretty. They look like black and white wolves,” you smiled, elated that he was opening up in more ways than one. Your touch flitted over to a winged creature under his left collarbone, small letters beside the image. “And this bird? Nue? He’s so majestic,” Your hands never stopped in trailing over his skin like a lost wanderer, sweeping over ink ink until Megumi completely discarded his hoodie to the side, his back faced to you.

A white viper tattoo stood large on his broad back, crawling until over his shoulder with the fangs ending just above his pecs. Megumi swallowed at each slivering touch, your fingers dipping and caressing every dent and curve of his body.

You couldn’t get your eyes off of him, your breath hitching in your throat as one of your hands gripped his biceps subconsciously. “You’re so beautiful.”

Megumi stiffened when your thumbs grazed over his nipple right next to the viper’s fang. Almost as if a switch was triggered inside him, Megumi growled, ducking to capture your lips with his in a sloppy, heated kiss. His hands tugged at the ends of your hair to arch your neck to him, his knees slapping your legs open before he settled comfortably between you, his low groans mixing with your breath moans.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. From the moment I met you,” he nibbled your lips, hands trailing down to thumb at your hipbones. “I knew that innocent good girl look was nothing but an act.”

You smiled through the kiss, a tiny gasp falling from your lips when Megumi pulled you closer until your heat grinded against the hardness inside his pants. Laughing at his harsh movements, you let Megumi tilt your head back, his lips sucking and teeth gently nipping at the sensitive flesh of your neck.

“Innocent girl?” you echoed, legs now wrapped around his waist to pull him closer. “What makes you think I am?”

“White lace panties? Short tennis skirts and sunshine smiles?” Megumi clenched his teeth, his hands eager as he tugged the white lace down until it looped to your ankles. You gasped, back arching when he thrusted two fingers inside you, curling and fingering against your bumpy walls. “You’re not fooling anyone, baby, especially not me.”

“Took you long enough to understand I wanted you though,” you chuckled through broken moans, eyes shut tight while your legs opened wider, heels digging into the hard cushion of his seats. “I was wondering when I’d get to break you from that tough guy act of yours and have you fuck me good,” Megumi growled at your words. You leaned forward to scratch at his chest, your tongue licking the shell of your ear as you rasped, “And on a side note, I am a good girl – only to those who can make me feel good, of course.”

Megumi cupped his palm to collect your arousal dripping of his, finally shutting you up when his fingers grazed over your sweet spot that had you clenching around him. And those were just his fingers. “You’re something else, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I know,” you nodded smugly, hands coming up to tug harshly at his hair. Megumi hissed at the sharp pain, prompting him to fuck his fingers in and out of you faster until you leaked down to his chair, thighs trembling and your high-pitched moans coating the walls of his stupid. “Megumi, ah! Just shut up and fuck me already – been wanting you long enough.”

“Needy little girl,” He pressed you down on the reclining seat, settling between your legs before he spread your lips open with two thumbs. At the sight of your bare cunt clenching around nothing, Megumi groaned, teeth biting his lip because he could cum right then and there. “Fuck, look at you. So wet already,” he ran a hand over your slit to collect your arousal, eyes dark with lust as your juices webbed between his fingers. “All this for me? You’re so good.”

“Fuck – yeah, yeah I am,” you leaned back harder into the seat, groping at your own breasts while you nodded dumbly, too fucked out to even form a coherent response. “Going to be good for you, Megumi, gonna make you feel good.”

“Sorry, babe, maybe next time. I’m too impatient to not feel your pussy around me,” he pushed away at your hands that planned to pump his cock, his hand coming down to push you hard against the seat until his weight loomed over you.

You felt Megumi begin to align his tip at your center, dampening his mushroom head with your arousal first that had you both moaning left and right.

Hands scratching down his back as your teeth dug into your lips, Megumi pushed into you with one thrust, the sudden stretch making your legs shake and your body writhe underneath him. “Shit, why are you so tight? So fucking warm and perfect,” he rasped next to your ear, and you could hear how hard he was breathing as he thrusted into you, his cock hitting all the right places.  “Could fuck this pretty pussy all day, baby, shit.”

“Me-Megumi – t-too big!”

“Shh, you’ll be fine. You’ll take it like a good girl, won’t you?” he cupped your cheek, grinning sinisterly as he watched the way your greedy walls sucked him in. “See how you take me so well? You’re so small and pretty wrapped around my cock. I could break you if I wanted you,” he growled, his hands gripping hard at your hips when you clenched around him, enticing the man above you to quicken his pace.

Megumi watched with a lust filled gaze as your breasts bounced at the relentless pace he started, his balls slapping at your ass. “Oh, you’d want that, wouldn’t you? You want to be stuffed with my fat cock in you? Fuck you until you’re a drooling mess? You’re so gorgeous when I fuck you stupid.”

“Yes, Megumi, agh. Keep going, keep going, I’m so close!”

“Oh, you feel like heaven around me,” he praised at your neck, his cock stretching you wide and pushing into you. Megumi groaned lowly at your ear as his palms flattened over your stomach that bulged every time he thrusted in, his balls tightening at the sight. “Look at how big I am for you, baby, but you’re doing so well. You were made for me – made to take my cock, shit, you’re so perfect around me. Gonna make you feel good, yeah? You’re such a good girl for me. Cum, baby, that’s right – I’m allowing you to cum.”

“Gumi, Gumi, fuckkk,” your legs tightened around him as Megumi panted with each harsh thrust, the black marks over his skin expanding and stretch when his forearm rested beside your head. His muscles clenched as he fucked into you deep, over and over again until he pushed you over the edge.

A silent sob left your lips when you came around him, your juices creaming around his cock. A few thrusts later, Megumi fell on top of you as you felt him spill his seed inside you.

He had too much that you felt both your cum dripping down your ass; Megumi pulling out with a slight wince from the oversensitivity. You struggled to catch your breath as you laid there, legs wide open and the cool air hitting your bare pussy. The door was still open, and Satoru and Geto could walk in on you both looking like this, but you couldn’t care, not when you could barely feel your legs.

You dropped your arm over your face, hearing Megumi pull his pants back up. “That was...”

“Intense?”

“Yeah,” you chuckled, wincing as you sat up. Your hair stuck to your forehead in sweaty clumps, dawning on you now that you were still very much covered in your sticky cum. You recoiled from the seats as you realized Megumi hadn’t even put on a towel underneath.

“Shit. Is this chair even clean?”

“I sanitize it every after session. Don’t worry about it,” he rolled his eyes, his tattoos covered and hidden from your sight once more when he pulled his hoodie over his head. Megumi retrieved a clean towel from his drawers and wiped at your sensitive pussy, your legs immediately closing around his hands when the towel accidentally grazed your clit.

Megumi gripped your knees with a silent glare. “Stay still. I’m cleaning you up.”

“I didn’t peg you as an aftercare guy. Thought you would leave me hanging here,” you teased, but really, you were feeling warm all over again as you watched Megumi wipe you all the way down to your other hole, your legs still tensing up.

Once he left to wash his hands, you could relax, tugging your panties back up with immense struggle. He wasn’t kidding when he said he’d fuck you good – you could barely feel your legs now.

“And have you make a mess by ruining my seat?” he sighed as he returned, helping you seady yourself while he snapped the slightly soaked panty back to your core. “No thanks.”

“You’re so mean, Megumi. I’m hurt.��

He rolled his eyes at your pout, leaning down to kiss you square on the lips. This time around, the kiss wasn’t rushed; it was slow and sensual, firm yet gentle, and his hands carefully massaged your sore hips that would soon bruise from his grip before.

“No, you’re not,” he mumbled through your lips, mimicking that lovesick smile on your face as he pulled away. “But babe, you know the rules. Now that you’ve seen my work of art – what tattoo would you like me to give you? My name on your inner thigh?”

[odetojeons]

Until It Feels Like You’re In Heaven — Jeon Wonwoo

request:  Hello do you still take requests? Your writing is amazingggg!! Thank you for existing 😭💕. Can i req a whipped dom!wonwoo x fem reader where he has a size kink and a smol gf please? I think that will be a cute concept 🥺

tags: fem and sub!reader, dom!wonwoo, size kink, tattoed and pierced jeon wonwoo just because, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex (uh idk why but I never write sex with a condom help), established wonwoo x reader, a tiiiny bit of spitting kink, very light verbal humiliation, aftercare, this goes from fluff to horny really quickly, fluff if you squint (or not?), a frankly unrealistic amount of cum, OH AND, stomach bulge 🥴

a/n: so haha I am back? with more filth? I tried adding fluff (even tho I completely forgot that the person who made the request asked for whipped wonwoo, good thing this is always in my agenda every time I write so I didn't have any problems lmfao) but I'm too much of a horny bitch and a simp for this man so,, idk? tell me what you think later! I hope you all perish— I mean, like this!

Word Count: 7826

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⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ “Aren’t you going to help?” you question, lifting a brow at your boyfriend, who’s currently sitting in one of the chairs and supporting his chin with the palm of his hand, plate of onions that should be already cut laying untouched in front of him.

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“Nope,” Wonwoo answers, giving you that kind of smile which makes you almost, almost feel less annoyed at the fact that you’ve been trying to reach something in the upper shelves for the last five minutes and he doesn’t move his ass to help you at all. “You’re just too cute trying to reach something.”

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There’s heat creeping up your neck, cheeks tinting red, and Wonwoo's smile gets bigger, shining and full of fondness. It leaves you stunned in silence for a while. It’s hard not to be in love with him. But it’s not like you try anyways.

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“J-just hurry up, aren’t you hungry?” you cough, looking away solely because you can’t stand the warmness in Wonwoo’s face without feeling like you’re going to combust any time soon.

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“I am. I can help you out,” he states simply, but doesn’t make a move. You gesticulate with your hand, pointing at him and at the rice jar in the upper shelf. “But only if you say please, though.”

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“I’m—” laughing incredulously, you roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest. “Would you please get the rice jar for me, sir?”

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Wonwoo stares at you for a second too long, eyes a bit dark, and gets up to get the jar, without breaking eye contact. You instinctively make yourself smaller when his bigger and broader frame hovers over you, large enough to swallow your tiny body. The size difference has always been something you both feel incredibly turned on by.

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“So small,” he appreciates, always does, and your neck burns from the intensity of your blushing. “The cutest.”

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Wonwoo puts the rice jar in your hands, the darkness in his face melting into a beam.

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“Here it goes, little girl,” he says, going back to his chair to complete the task which he has been doing for at least ten minutes now. The way he says little girl has you dumbfounded, heart hammering against your chest. “Are you just going to stand there? Do you like being called little that much?”

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“Shut up,” you admonish, blushing furiously as you turn on your back to continue what you were doing.  You just hate how everything Wonwoo does affects you so much. You’re sure this must be bad for your health.

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The two of you continue your journey through cooking and eating after you’re both done with the preparations. Things with Wonwoo are always so easy, everything feels natural and domestic and the bubbling feeling of happiness you feel whenever you’re with him lulls you to fall in love with him even deeper than before.

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The way he teases you when you’re clumsy and spill sauce over yourself, but still cleans you up with the most fond smile ever, like you’re so completely adorable he can’t help himself. Or when you put more salt in the food than you should and you know it’s not that good, but he still compliments it and tells you he loves it so much, the sincerity in his eyes makes a surge of something pull at your lower stomach.

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If Jeon Wonwoo isn’t the love of your life, you don’t know who is.

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But right now you just want the ground to eat you alive and swallow you whole, because you’re standing right in front of the bed. The one bed. To which it suddenly doesn’t look big enough, not as you remember.

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Well, it’s not like you have never shared a bed before, you have even had a shit ton of sex in this exact piece of mattress, but the thing is, it’s been a while since you last saw Wonwoo. His job required him to spend three months away, and this is the first time you came to his house ever since he came back two days ago.

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You consider throwing yourself out of the window and into the dark, miserable night, thinks your poor heart will explode otherwise.

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“I’m not going to eat you.” Wonwoo’s voice carries over from the bathroom door, startling you into action. You jerk toward the bed, jumping on it and face flushing. You had showered before him, now dressed with one of his big shirts.

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It fell all the way to your mid thigh, the size difference between the two of you making you almost drown on the fabric of his clothes. It smells nice, smells like Wonwoo, and your cheeks burn when he drinks the sight of you in with dark eyes, not even trying to hide.

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“Unless you want me to,” he adds, not helping your situation at all.

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BSHANDJAJSND?, your brain supplies.

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“Oh my god,” you admonish, yanking the blanket off the bed and just as you get in, your eyes hone in on the ink swirling up Wonwoo’s right biceps. You have seen the tattoo through the pictures he sent you before, the snake crawling up to his shoulder, head stopping at his right chest.

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This is, however, the first time you’ve seen the metal bar through one of Wonwoo’s nipples — to which you already knew the existence of, but looking in person is totally different —, heat winding in the pit of your belly as you realize the snake is looking right at that same nipple. Unfortunately for your poor heart, he’s wearing nothing but a pair of sweats, hanging low on his hips, slim waist on display.

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Wonwoo is… hot.

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There’s no other way to put it despite your best efforts. He looks like one of those Greek statues, rippling muscle and hand carved abs, the cut of his jaw too sharp to be real. Your mouth waters and you can’t look away.

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And Wonwoo has been changing. He always had the thin type of body, being slim and tall, but in the end of last year he started exchanging the lazy hours he spent gaming with animated workouts at the gym — something about the way he was wasting his precious time of life and he could be acquiring knowledge and being healthy instead of sitting in front of a computer for hours —, and holy fuck if the result wasn’t quite the damn view.

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You draw the blanket right up to your chin, back very purposefully to Wonwoo’s side of the bed as you’re still trying to stop the mild heart attack you have going on. You don’t want to see him climbing into bed for safety purposes but that doesn’t mean your heart rate doesn’t spike up when the bed dips. When Wonwoo settles down under the same blanket, your brain very enthusiastically — and meaningfully — points out that you’re only a few centimeters away and that there’s nothing separating you.

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His abs flash behind your eyes and you nearly throw the blanket off, ready to storm out of the room and sleep on the sofa instead. You let out a breath you don’t even know you’re holding when Wonwoo flicks the flight off, the room disappearing into darkness, before he turns on the red leds from under his bed.

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You feel warm all over with the fact that he still remembers you don’t like sleeping in complete darkness.

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You try not to tense too much when he drapes an arm around your waist, locking you in. Your legs tangle together as he adjusts himself better, the other arm coming behind your head to serve as a pillow. Now you’re not only dying from the closeness but as well essentially drooling over the bulge of his thick biceps.

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Congratulations universe for managing to make you even more desperate.

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You’re not sure how long you just lie there, staring out the window, unable to fall asleep. Your brain doesn’t want to shut off, a blaring alarm of Jeon Wonwoo going off in your head.

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“I missed you so much,” Wonwoo says as if he read your thoughts, voice soft and filled with warmth, and you find yourself immediately melting in his arms despite your nervousness. “Thought I was going crazy without you, munchkin.”

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There’s a hard squeeze in your heart. You just love so much when he calls you that.

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“Missed you too,” you admit with a smile, the tip of Wonwoo’s nose dragging through your hair as he inhales the smell of his own shampoo. “Missed your smell.”

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“Just my smell?” Wonwoo teases with a light tone, caressing his free hand on your inner thigh. It was supposed to be a feather-like gesture, but the closeness between the two of you made your body oversensitive, and you find yourself moaning softly as your skin rocks with a shiver.

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Wonwoo tenses immediately when he hears the sound, hand stuttering to a stop. There’s a beat of what you call the most painful silence you ever had — your mind swirls with the thought that you just ruined the mood, face heating up uncontrollably at your own neediness —, before his fingers sink into the flesh of your inner thigh, startling you with the strength behind his grip.

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“Answer me.”

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You whine louder this time, the realization of his change of tone going from fond to an irrevocable order sinking wanton deep within your lower stomach. You try to close your legs, but Wonwoo’s leg stops you where it rests right in the middle of them, dangerously close to your throbbing core. You wonder if he could feel the heat emanating from it.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“N-no,” you begin, voice already shaken up. Wonwoo’s breath caresses the helix of your ear, making goosebumps surge all over your skin. “Missed y-your bed too.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Is that so?” he hums, chest vibrating where it presses against your back. “What else, munchkin?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Missed—” your voice gets caught up in your throat when he licks your helix, teeth pulling the lobe of your ear. The soft drag of his lips all over that place is making your job difficult. “M-missed all of you, hmmm.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo hums again, pleased with your answer, and leans so close to you your body gets half pinned to the bed. This way his bigger frame completely engulfs your smaller one, the difference between your sizes getting even more overwhelming now that he’s bulked up.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And you’re not the only one affected by it, because as soon as Wonwoo realizes how he almost swallows you up in this position, he downright moans right by your ear.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“So fucking small,” he tells you appreciatevely, voice one octave lower as his fingers presses on your inner thigh harder. “Missed touching you.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

There’s a shift in Wonwoo, his leg rising up between yours and stopping centimeters away from the heat of your cunt, and you can’t hold back the shiver, wants Wonwoo to press down there. When you attempt to slide Wonwoo’s hand up and off of you so then you could turn around, you’re met with a growl instead, Wonwoo bodily pinning you to the bed.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, and it makes you feel like you’re a prey just ready to be caught by the big, bad wolf. You whine softly at that thought, hand coming to grab at Wonwoo’s wrist reflexively.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Wonwoo,” is your answer, like that would explain everything. Wonwoo chuckles softly, embarrassment burning on your cheeks.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“When we called and I saw your face,” he says, barely above a whisper. “I wanted to fuck you so bad.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Suddenly, you can’t remember how to breathe, Wonwoo’s mouth on your neck, planting a soft kiss just under your ear. He nuzzles into the same spot, kisses lower and your heart shakes loud enough you think the neighbors might hear, hyperaware of every inch of your bodies touching.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I know I couldn’t, so I did it all from behind,” Wonwoo admits, sending your mind into a little haze. Of course he has been jerking off to the thought of you, but hearing him say it out loud has your panties getting soaked. “Sticking my dick in…”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo hasn’t stopped nuzzling you, in some kind of daze as he inhales your scent. There’s a hand on your hip now, holding you down, liquid heat pooling in your belly, spreading outward.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“…and fucking you mercilessly…” he continues, voice getting deeper and rougher with each word, his breath labored. “…and watching you cum endlessly… I thought I would be fine just imagining it.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“W-Won—” you start, breathless, the sound of your own voice sounding so airy leaving you embarrassed. But then finally, finally he presses his thigh into your core, your hips immediately going down to rut hard against the muscle.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fucking drenched,” Wonwoo snarls lowly when he feels the wetness of your soaked panties dirtying the fabric of his sweatpants.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The sound makes you writhe on the bed, fists balling in the mattress.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“But seeing you, so small…” the trace of Wonwoo’s hand in your skin is light, almost like a gentle whisper as it makes a burning path up, up, up until it stops by your neck, fingers closing softly around your throat. “Makes me want to rail you, carve the shape of my big cock inside your walls.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo’s teeth sink into the skin just at the base of your neck. It’s hardly a bite, you know he could leave worse, but then Wonwoo laps at it afterwards, tender, surrenders you into moving your hips obscenely on his thigh. The way he says, knows his cock is big has heat licking your insides, and if it were anyone else saying the same thing you would be cringed, but there’s just something special about Jeon Wonwoo doing this that makes him look like the hottest man alive.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You’re addicting,” Wonwoo admits with a growl, the feeling of his touch turning possessive as he helps you ride his thigh better by a hand on your waist. “Once I get a taste I can’t stop myself from wanting more. Wanna have my way with you until you’re all mine.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Need seeps through your bones, body trembling as you try to scatter the air it has been knocked out of your lungs when Wonwoo fits his cock in the curve of your ass.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Y-you’re hard,” you comment, as if it’s not obvious, but it has been so long since the last time you felt his bulge pressing against you that it makes you desperate. “You’re so hard.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Who’s fault do you think it is?” Wonwoo questions, groaning when you sway your hips from side to side on his cock.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Can we…” you trail off, hiding your face in the pillow. “Y-you know?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Nope, you gotta be more specific,” he says with a teasing smile, and you smack him in the arm. Wonwoo laughs before his voice gets serious. “Say it.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

This switch of him turning on and off between a sweet boyfriend to the man who doms you never fails to give you a whiplash.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Can we— Can w-we fuck?” you ask shyly, wanting the ground to swallow you whole. You have no idea why you are being this shy.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Hmm, it depends,” Wonwoo hums like he’s considering the options. You turn to look at him, mortified, but he only laughs at your indignation. “Are you going to be a good girl for me?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You blush furiously at the question, face turning to look away as you mumble a yes, but then Wonwoo’s grabbing at your jaw and yanking your head back in place until you’re staring right in the deepness of his eyes, the intensity of them stunting you into complete silence.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Look at me when I’m talking to you,” he orders, leaving no room for arguments, and you nod your head quickly at that. “Out loud.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Y-yes,” you hurry to obey, watching satisfaction curl all over his face. “‘M always a good girl.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I don’t think so, munchkin,” Wonwoo grins, wicked and teasing, and you brace yourself for whatever is going to happen this night. “Sometimes you’re so desperate and impatient you can’t even wait for me before fucking yourself with those plastic toys of yours.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Wonwoo,” and you’re unable to look away even when shame burns all over your body. “H-how did you—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“How did I know?” your sentence morphs into a moan when Wonwoo presses his thigh so hard against you cunt it has your body jumping a little. “You think I wouldn’t feel how you’re more loose when I fucked you? You think I don’t notice the way you look at me?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo is mercilessly dragging your hips up and down his leg, your whines sounding high and sweet in your own ears.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You’re oblivious even to yourself,” he tells you, tone rough as he ruts against your ass. Your heart lurches in your chest, Wonwoo’s words like a hot coal in the pit of your belly, erupting into flames. You want to squeeze your eyes shut, cunt pulsing with arousal. “Even today, the way you were staring at me…”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

But then, Wonwoo’s touch is gone. His hands leave your hips, thigh frees you from the pressure, and the warmth seems so far now. You turn, complaint already at the tip of your tongue, but Wonwoo’s faster, rougher as he manhandles you on your back and hovers over your body, caging you in with his arms.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You looked like a prey who has just been caught into the wolf’s den,” he smiles at you, wicked and cruel as he grabs your jaw and pushes your head back. “Like you wanted me to break you in until it feels like you’re in heaven.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

There’s a breath against your bare neck, his groan hitting your skin when he bites it.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Or eat you up until there’s nothing left in you that doesn’t belong to me,” you’re definitely not expecting the moan that escapes Wonwoo’s mouth, so affected and deep it’s got all the hairs in your nape standing up, every fiber of your body telling you to submit. “Fuck, and it turns me on so much.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You make a sound out of neediness, hands reaching for Wonwoo. He goes easily, body pressing into yours as he crashes your lips together. Wonwoo kisses you like he wants to conquer you, licking into the seam of your mouth and teeth scraping at your bottom lip just so he could soothe the pain later with his tongue. Your head spins with the intensity of it, it’s messy and there’s too much spit and teeth, but that only makes it even more addicting.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

But Wonwoo doesn’t kiss you enough today. He almost never does when he’s feeling like that — possessive, mean, wicked even, when he needs you to know your damn place —, wants to ebb the pleasure away when you’re starting to get hotter until it’s replaced by pure desperation and you can’t do anything else other than beg for him to give in to you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

So that’s what you do, staring up at his eyes trained on you as if you’re a prey.⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Please,” you start, voice caught into a moan when Wonwoo’s fingers sink into your jaw and his mouth falls ajar, like the sound of you saying this particular word gives a physical stroke to his cock. “P-please, fuck me. Wanna— Wanna belong t-to you.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And that’s enough. That’s enough, that’s enough, Wonwoo wants, you want, and he’ll give that to you since he has always been a weak man for your begging. There’s a fraction of seconds that he thinks he might pass out with all the blood rushing from his head to his other head, cock throbbing in his sweatpants.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Don’t know how so much eagerness fits into this little body of yours,” Wonwoo murmurs against your mouth, his hand squeezing your face. You find yourself parting your mouth open, whining, pliant and overwhelmed as Wonwoo slips his tongue in again, kissing you filthy. The scent of his familiar cologne is so sharp, surrounding you and leaving your mind dazed until all you can think is Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonwoo. When he pulls back this time, Wonwoo pushes his thumb into your mouth, eyes half-lidded as he watches you swirl your tongue around it, sucking it further into your mouth.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You moan around it, watching Wonwoo’s every reaction, the way his breath hitches, shoulders tensing. There’s a shift on the bed, Wonwoo moving up and up and up and you can’t breathe because now the bulge pressing against the fabric of his clothes is standing proudly right in front of your face, Wonwoo almost straddling your chest. You let the realization that he’s going to fuck your mouth sink deep within your core, and try not to show how deeply affected you are by the idea.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You fail, of course, hips lifting off of the bed and falling down again, biting around the finger inside of your mouth that keeps you from taking a better look in the place you are dying to see.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“That desperate to suck me off, baby?” Wonwoo asks, and you flush, hate how you love the humiliated burn, how it makes you wetter. You’re too embarrassed to throw something back at Wonwoo, gaze dropping to his erect cock the best you can. He pushes your head back up, making you look at him instead. “Do you wanna see it?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I do,” you reply, a little too fast for your own good, and it only serves for Wonwoo to laugh at your neediness. You debate if you’re as red as you think you are, the burn in your cheeks spreading all the way down to your neck.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Are you sure you’re ready for that?” Wonwoo’s tone is almost condescending, still playful, like he doesn’t think you can even handle the sight of his cock, and you like how it makes your cunt twitch and ache. It’s as if you enjoy the belittlement, enjoy the way Wonwoo wants you to prove yourself.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I’m,” you start, swallowing, “I’m ready.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo’s smile is a touch dark, nearly a sneer, but his hand leaves your mouth to hook a thumb in the waistband of his pants. You nearly drool. He pulls on the fabric until his cock is free, slapping against your left cheek and smearing precum on your face. Your head spins, realising that even this part of Wonwoo’s body seemed to have grown bigger. Maybe it’s your imagination, haven’t actually seen it in real life for the past three months, but the thickness is intimidating.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The best intimidating possible.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your heart thuds in your chest, unable to look away from his cock. There’s spit collecting on your tongue, embarrassment fighting against your desire to please. Leaning forward, you suckle the tip into your mouth, making a pleased sound when you taste the salty tang of precum.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo leans back a bit, wanting to assess your face better, and the taut lines of his body contorts in an even hotter way with the new position. You moan again, staring at the piercing in Wonwoo’s nipple and the head of the inked snake looking at it, and sucks on the head, tongue pushing along the underside. Your body throbs with your own heated desire.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You wrap a hand around the base, gut twisting hotly when you realise you can’t even get your fingers all the way around — no matter how many times you notice this, they all make you feel equally needy. And you’re not the only one affected by it, Wonwoo’s hips kicking forward and cock thrusting inside of your mouth, the growl he lets out going straight to your core.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fuck,” he says, breath audible enough to echo inside the room. “I will ruin you.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The confession has your body arching for a few seconds, sucking hard on the tip of Wonwoo’s cock until he’s moaning at the feeling. He takes a fistful of your hair, but you push against the hold so you could take more of it into your mouth.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Quit it,” Wonwoo demands, your displeased whine making his hold grow firmer. “Do as you’re told or you might not get my cock at all tonight.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He pulls you off, your pants loud and labored.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Did I make myself clear?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yes, sir,” you add just for the teasing — but mostly because you want Wonwoo to punish you for making him lose his beloved control —, feeling pleased as you watch the clear change of expressions going on in Wonwoo’s face. His eyes darken impossibly more, eyebrows frowning and then there’s a hand on your neck.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your mouth goes dry as soon as his fingers close around your throat, body writhing and mind going into submission mode.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Filthy little slut,” Wonwoo snarls, face suddenly close, and then he’s spitting into your open mouth and you feel like you will come very soon. You flinch, eyes shutting on reflex, and then moan. “Want me to punish you, don’t you?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You don’t say anything, can’t say anything, but you hope the look in your eyes answers his question. It probably does, because there’s a tiny little smirk playing on the edge of Wonwoo’s lips before he kisses you, softer than you could ever imagine he would be in this moment.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I love you,” he breathes, the sudden confession making a different kind of burn itch your throat. You know very well that when Wonwoo tells you that I’m the middle of sex then it’s because this will be a passionate fucking. One of those that he keeps your body so close you think you might become one with him, one of those he kisses you so gently one moment only to treat you roughly in the other, one of those he wants to make you fall apart, crumble and cry and even so, it will be full of love and care and sweetness. “I love you so much.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo doesn’t wait for your answer. Doesn’t need to, he knows your heart belongs to him.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Say ah for me, sweetheart,” Wonwoo instructs and you obey, mouth hanging open, tongue out. Wonwoo slaps his cock against it, precum dirtying your tongue as the slap slap slap of his cock hitting your mouth fills the heavy air of the room. He even traces the tip over your upper lip, smearing precum along your cheek when he slaps your face with it before placing his cock right back on your waiting tongue. “Put this mouth to better use.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You do, eager to do as you’re told after Wonwoo’s confession, blood singing from his praise and his disparagement alike. You sink down onto it as far as you can take it, nearly gagging when it hits the back of your throat. Wonwoo drowns out a broken “fuck” above you, stroking your cheek and moving further in the bed to lessen the awkward twist of your neck.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You look so good with my cock in your mouth,” Wonwoo breathes, voice strained as you suck him off, head bobbing. He brushes your hair back, little groans and growls escaping him every time his cock hits the back of your throat, you swallowing around it, or when you speed up, fucking your mouth on Wonwoo’s length. “Such a pretty little cocksucker, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You blush, heart hammering in your chest with the compliment, but he closes a fist in your hair and makes you stop all movements.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Gonna fuck your mouth,” Wonwoo starts, holding your wrist with his free hand and putting your fingers above his thigh. You know that it means if you want me to stop, tap twice, and it makes heat coil in your belly. “until you gag.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You moan a bit uncontrollably around his cock, legs kicking in the bed at the affirmation, and Wonwoo is staring at you with a look you can’t quite describe. It makes you ashamed of being so eager but at the same time proud of being his little cockslut.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo holds you in place, hips bucking into your mouth. He goes slow at first, wanting you to get used with the feeling because it has been a while since the last time you sucked him off. It is short lived, as soon as you look up at him and nod — the best you could with your movements being kind of restricted —, his thrusts turn sharp and fast, your jaw aching from how long you had Wonwoo’s fat cock in your mouth.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You moan, one of your hands still working up and down along Wonwoo’s shaft as he fucks into you, tears beginning to prickle at the corners of your eyes. He falls a bit forward when you start gagging a little, throat convulsing around his thickness, and he sprawls his fingers in the wall for support.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fuck fuck fuck, shit,” Wonwoo breathes, voice gravelly, his grip in your hair getting tighter and tighter. Tingles spark down your spine, wetness pouring out of you and soaking your panties even more and you want so desperately to come, to be fucked, but you want to please him first.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo’s thrusts begin to turn erratic as he fucks your mouth, a growl erupting out of him on a particularly hard thrust, and then he’s pulling away. You look at him, mind in a haze, but still dumbfounded. His breath is labored and he looks like he’s having a hard time keeping together, hips thrusting into the air. It boosts your ego to see him this messed up because of you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Did so well for me, sweetheart,” Wonwoo tells you, voice strained from effort but still full of fondness, and you feel butterflies dancing in your stomach at the praise. It seems like he wants his orgasm to ebb away. At the look you’re giving him, he adds: “Wanna cum with you.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You mewl at the thought, watching him position himself between your legs again and kissing you slowly. Wonwoo caresses your cheek with a gentle thumb, other hand tracing a feather-like path down your body. His fingers brush against your nipple, the whine you let out being swallowed by Wonwoo’s greedy mouth, and he sneaks his hand under your shirt just as his kisses fly to your neck.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And then Wonwoo’s sucking. Hard.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

It caughts you off guard, hips lifting off of the bed and thigh pressing tightly against Wonwoo’s cock, his groan being muffled by your skin. He bites, suckles and kisses the particular spot underneath your jaw, so far up your neck you won’t be able to hide it, especially because it’s summer. And you feel warm all over, how he always remembers exactly your pleasure point, the place that has your head spinning with pleasure.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your hands fly to his hair, cunt throbbing with need when he tongues at the purple hickey, and it’s throbbing, pulsating with how hard he sucked. It leaves you breathless, not having time to recover when Wonwoo pulls your shirt up until he can get one nipple into his mouth.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Wonwon, fuck,” you whimper, body oversensitive with all that has been going on, and Wonwoo growls at the nickname, hand coming to pinch your other nipple like he’s telling you how much this affects him. “Please—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo bites at it, tongue coming to soothe the pain later, and you’re sure the grip you have on his hair must be painful, but he says nothing; only looks more intent on making you moan. Wonwoo busies himself with sucking hickeys all over the place as one of his hands continues to descend down your body, thumb pressing in a spot by your hips that has your back arching and a desperate whine being pulled out of you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Down and down, his fingers then slips inside your penties, brushing across your clit so lightly that it has your whole body rocking with shivers.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

But then, Wonwoo’s body goes completely still. You feel him tensing under your palms, heat already flooding your face when you know he feels it, feels the way you’re already stretched open for him.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You—” he starts but stops himself, pushing a finger inside for great measure. Wonwoo growls when he meets almost no resistance, face lifting from where it rests on your chest to look at you. “When?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The intensity of his voice leaves your mouth dry.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“E-earlier, in the— in the s-shower,” you confess, voice quiet, and you can’t look away, Wonwoo’s eyes pinning you to your spot.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Hah,” he states simply, a sound of pleasant surprise, and adds another finger inside. Wonwoo pushes them to the hilt, until his knuckles brush your pelvis. You moan, head thrown back at the sudden, but welcomed intrusion. “Acting all nervous around me but this is exactly what you wanted, isn’t it?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He gyrates his hand, pushing hard and without mercy, right before he adds another finger, this time more slowly. It burns a little, his fingers way bigger than yours, but you love the slight pain.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Did you come into my house knowing I would fuck you?” Wonwoo asks, knows the answers but does it anyway. He moves his hand a little, waiting for your to be more comfortable with the sensation of his fingers, but as soon as your frown turns upside down, Wonwoo has no restrains whatsoever, fucking into you fast and sharp. “Fingered yourself knowing that I would split you open on my big cock?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You can’t even think straight, hips rising off of the bed, but Wonwoo holds your waist with his free hand and pins them down hard. Your upper body lifts with this, back arching and legs kicking everywhere as you can’t stop the loud moans slipping through your lips, doesn’t even care about the neighbors as your nails sink into Wonwoo’s back to the point it might leave tiny crescent moons all over it.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Did you come back then?” Wonwoo continues, pace unforgiving even when tears well up into your eyes. He trusts you to use your safeword if needed as much as you trust him to use his. “Did you?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You struggle to answer, voice being surrendered to moans and whines and whimpers and it’s hard to focus when he’s hitting your sweet spot with the tip of his fingers.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Ah! Ah, hmmm, f-fuck, please Won— Wonwon,” you try, can’t even understand how you still manage to get red when you realise Wonwoo is looking at you with so much desire. The point you both most like about your relationship is that Wonwoo is the dom, but he knows you have him in the palm of your tiny hands. “I, ah, d-din’t. Di— Didn’t want to, fuck, please— c-come without you—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo pulls his fingers out at that, your cunt clenching around nothing as he goes lighting fast to take both of your clothes off, grab your waist and flip you on your stomach just as he reaches for the nightstand to grab what you know very well it’s a bottle of lube. He pulls your hips up until you’re face down, ass up on the bed, the hurry in all of this only sending desperation all over your body, and the sound of the cap being opened has butterflies in your stomach.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yeah? Fuck,” Wonwoo sounds a mess, fingers hurrying to close a fist on his cock and jerk it off furiously to spread the lube better, the wet head nudging against your rim. “Fuck, shit, I wanna fuck you so bad.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Do it,” you beg. “Please.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And who is he to deny what you want?

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo pushes inside you slowly despite his hunger, knows he’s big and there’s an alarming size difference between the both of you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your hands clench into fists and it feels like you’re being impaled onto Wonwoo’s cock, going deeper than any cock you ever taken before. Tears cling to your lashes as a small jolt of pain runs up your spine, the lube easing Wonwoo’s way in. Overall you’re proud of yourself, haven taken him before, more times than you can count, and you accommodate his cock like a pro.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your chest heaves, no amount of air feels like enough as Wonwoo’s cock all but punches everything out of you. You’re biting at the pillow by the time the last of it pushes into you, a haze surrounding your mind because it feels so good.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo’s groan transforms into a moan once he’s buried all the way into you, hips flush against your ass and spreading you open so wide and so deep, you would think you might break if you didn’t know any better. You gasp, back arching downward as you take your time to adjust to the large intrusion.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo kisses your shoulder tenderly, waiting for you to grow used to the feeling. He can be rough when it comes to bed, but he always is mindful of you no matter how impatient and desperate he is. There’s this soft feeling going on inside you, mixing with your pleasure and it only serves to make you more needy.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo doesn’t move for a while, hot breath falling against your neck as he stands behind you. You feel surrounded — his scent everywhere, the pulse of the hickeys he carved on your skin, the press of his long fingers on your waist —, your submission for Wonwoo’s eyes only.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You nod at him.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

A lick at your neck is all the warning you get before Wonwoo pulls out so very slowly, cock dragging against your walls and rim. It feels like forever, you whining at the sensation, and then you’re being slammed back into.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Ah!” you gasp, eyes blurry as you struggle for air. You moan as Wonwoo drags himself back out again, and thrusts right back in and groans at the feeling. “Y-yes—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“So good,” Wonwoo growls, close to inhumane as he continues with that pace. “So fucking good.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Eventually, Wonwoo doesn’t seem to be able to go slow anymore, thrusts turning sharper and harder, his pace unrelenting. You find yourself almost screaming through it, so overwhelmed by the size of him — a good overwhelmed, the best overwhelmed —, but the way you feel so full and the exponential pleasure leaves you numb to any other thought.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonwoo, your mind seems to chant, fucked open mercilessly by your boyfriend.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Taking cock like a pro, aren’t you, sweetheart?” Wonwoo says, stops for a second, adjusts his hips, and then slams back right into your sweet spot, like he knows where it is by heart. Your body lurches forward, bed slamming against the wall. Hands reaching to hold onto something, you scramble against the sheats until one of them fists it and the other holds the pillow for dear life. “You’re gonna wake the whole hall, screaming like that.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You have enough of a decency to feel ashamed about it, but it’s not like neither of you actually care. If anything, Wonwoo fucks you harder, hips jamming inside you until your throat hurts from all the noises you’re making.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Please, p-please— I wanna— I h-have to— Fuck, ah!” you’re not even sure about what you’re begging for, Wonwoo pulling your hips to meet his thrusts half way. You love this, feeling like a ragdoll, being thrown around and only able to take what he gives to you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Good little girl,” Wonwoo croons, his voice rough. Your skin glistens with sweat, the shimmering red light reflecting on it. “Looking so beautiful taking my cock.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You’re not sure what compels you after he says that but you reach down, hand smoothing down your abdomen because you feel like Wonwoo is spearing you open. But you go completely tense, squeezing Wonwoo so hard he stutters with a moan, because under your palm there is the outline of his cock protruding against your lower belly. The feeling makes you so overwhelmed that you can’t hold it in, whithe pleasure flooding you as you end up coming, eyes rolling to the back of your head and you’re crying all the way through it.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You’re coming?” Wonwoo deadpans, sounding surprised and angry at the same time. “Holy shit, you’re coming untouched and without my permission? What were you think—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo’s complaint immediately dies down when you bring a trembling hand to grab his wrist and put his fingers in the cause of your orgasm. There’s a beat of silence, the both of you completely still, and then Wonwoo is growling the most animalistic growl you ever heard him do, the sheer intensity of it rocking all the way to your bones. He presses his hips so tightly into yours it has you sobbing.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fuck,” it’s all he says, tone two octaves lower and sounding dangerous, doesn’t even have it in him to punish you. “Fuck.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

It’s like the caged beast he keeps so carefully locked deep within himself started to surface. Wonwoo pushes your head down on the mattress, the other hand still on your belly. He pulls out until the tip and then slams back inside, as hard as he can, and you downright scream at the feeling, the oversensitiviness adding up to your pleasure.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

There’s another few seconds of silence, and then Wonwoo is fucking you brutally. His moans echo through the room, so completely desperate that it has you wailing, sobbing, crying desperate pleas for more.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Look at that,” Wonwoo says, hand pressing harder against the bulge in your stomach. “Pushed my big cock into you until your insides were forced to make room for it.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He grabs your arm and yanks you up, your back pressing against his chest and an arm circling around your waist. The other comes up to squeeze your left breast as you practically sit on his thighs. You moan at the feeling of his pierced nipple dragging against your skin every time he fucks up into you, your body only held in place because of the firm grip Wonwoo has on you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Sobbing, you feel like you’re losing yourself in the sensations, Wonwoo’s cock pounding into your cunt and his voice by your ear and the burn of his hips hitting your ass — by now it must be all red, the marks probably going to linger for some time. You can’t hold yourself together anymore, mouth open and drooling, tears clinging to your lashes, staccato moans falling from your lips that break on every thrust. You’re limp against Wonwoo, can’t even fuck back, letting him have his way with you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Drooling all over yourself for my cock,” Wonwoo says, fucks in deep against your sweet spot and mouths at the side of your neck. “Because of me, right? Tell me.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Y-you— yours, yours, please,” your head falls back on his shoulder, hand pressing tightly in the shape of his cock in your stomach, and at this point you don’t even know what you’re doing anymore.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I’ve broken you in, fuck.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And he did, really. He has broken you in, has you crying on his cock.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You belong to who?” Wonwoo pressed his hips flush on your ass, grinds hard enough for your body to be sent forward. A short few seconds so you can take a breath — or at least try to. “Hm? Who’s fucking you this good?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“W-Wonwoo, Wonwon, you, please,” you cry out as he starts to fuck you mercilessly again, the brutal pace punching moans out of you. “Ah, ah, ah, p-please, haaah, I’m y-yours— yours, b-belong to, hmmm, to you only, please!”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yeah,” Wonwoo echoes, thrusts turning erratic and groans morphing into moans. “Mine.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I can’t — I’m g-gonna—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Come for me.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And it’s enough for you. Your muscles tense, toes curling as hot, white pleasure surges through your body and floods you until you fall limp on the bed, hips only up because Wonwoo is holding them tightly. You clench around his cock involuntarily, his groan muffled by your hair and he’s coming, Wonwoo’s cock twitching inside you as thick spurts of come fill you to the brim. They seem to be endless, his spunk filling you up until it’s dripping out and down your thighs.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You don’t remember much of what happens later. Your mind spins and then you fall into a most needed slumber.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You wake up a bit disoriented, having no idea how much has passed since you fell asleep, but you realise you’re all cleaned up and dressed, head resting in Wonwoo’s — thankfully, for the sake of your precious pussy — clothed chest as he uses his cellphone. He smells clean too, hair still a little bit wet, and you smile thinking that the shower you both took before going to bed was useless.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You’re up?” comes Wonwoo’s question when he feels your lips moving against him, placing his phone somewhere on the bed and circling his arms around you. You move your head, looking up at him with fondness.⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Hey, baby,” you breathe out, reaching to peck him in the lips once. He smiles, that kind of smile that leaves you breathless with love.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Hey, my love,” Wonwoo laughs when you blush at the pet name. It’s so sweet and endearing, you always feel warm whenever he says it. “I see you still get all red when I call you that.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Shut up,” you swat at his arm, Wonwoo’s following laugh sounding like the best music you ever heard. “How much did I sleep?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Not much,” he presses you tighter against him. “I think one hour? Something like that.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Thanks for taking care of me,” you say, legs tangling with his and the smile never leaving your lips.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Of course, my love. Always will take care of you,” Wonwoo nuzzles your hair and inhales. “Got kind of surprised that I managed to fuck you into unconsciousness.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Wonwoo,” you mortify with a laugh, hitting his chest, but he only giggles at you. He giggles. Your heart might explode soon.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“What? Can’t I be happy that I pleasured my tiny girlfriend the way she deserves to?” Wonwoo says, and it sounds like a joke, but when you look up at him again to make a retort, the reverence in his eyes surrenders you speechless.⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He stares at you with so much admiration and love, like you’re the most beautiful thing ever.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I love you,” you say instead, cheeks hurting from the way you’re smiling, and Wonwoo seems to be caught off guard because he’s blushing. Wonwoo’s blushing. He’s so cute you want to die.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Shut up and go back to sleep,” he coughs, pushing your head against his chest and you laugh at this shyness. “I love you too.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Yes. The warmness of his hands, the beat of his heart, the rise and fall of his chest, the love in his eyes, the sweetness of his words — you missed everything about Jeon Wonwoo.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀  ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

[un-nonymous]

So I started seeing an ADHD coach about a month ago. She’s the second one I’ve seen in 3 months and the first who doesn’t take insurance, but I really like her.

She said I’m an overachiever today, or that I have those tendencies anyway, and she’s the second person who’s said that to me in the past week. Legitimately, I’ve never seen myself that way. Never. I feel like I’m always behind, always catching up, everyone is doing more than me. Always.

It’s an interesting experience, being in this type of coaching, because (stay with me on this) I feel like I’m paying someone a lot of money to essentially read me things I’ve already read on the internet. And that’s because I think she’s really good at her job.

In sessions, I feel amazing. Heard, understood, validated. And then I digest a little and I’m like, damn. I could’ve googled that. I have googled that. What’s the difference now?

The difference is the immediate responses and thoughtful compassion I (we) don’t get from words on a screen written to an anonymous audience. I wish I had done this a long time ago.

I’m grateful to have a supportive presence in my life finally who sees me AND will call me out from a place of awareness. She gently preaches and encourages radical self acceptance and I’m finally listening and taking the babiest of steps. Googling it for 15 years hasn’t worked and I can admit that now. Figuring it out on my own hasn’t worked, therapy hasn’t worked (because we’ve focused on all the other hard shit I’ve grappled with in the past 3 years instead) and I need something specific, and I’m ready to do something about it.

This has been a really fucking hard month because I’m facing shit I’ve been masking and things about me that I’ve gotten really good at keeping hidden from most everyone in my life. A lot of it deals with work, but not all of it. I’ve spent my entire adult life trying to fit into a neurotypical professional world and being shamed and feeling awful for it.

My best friend says I’m the best storyteller she’s ever met while I’m wishing I could be more concise and regularly qualifying what I’m about to say by starting with “brevity isn’t my strong suit” and using “long story long” to signal when I’m finally about to land the plane. I think, often, that it drives people nuts and the impact of the one piece of negative feedback I’ve gotten about this (when I was interviewing for the job I have now, by someone who regularly gets chastised for taking forever to get to the point) is far heavier than all the compliments I’ve gotten about it, because brains are jerks.

I don’t think I’m in the right job to truly flourish and one day I need to figure that out because I LOVE my current job a whole fucking lot. It’s more that I’m struggling keeping this Big Thing About Me™️ hidden, but I’m actively choosing that. If you ask me why, I’ll tell you construction is a tough industry for “overhead” (support) roles like mine that I can do anywhere else for probably lots more money at this point, but I still choose it because I really like being a big fish in a small pond. I really, really like that. And then I’ll say I have enough stacked against me: I’m a woman, I’m “young” (I’m not, but people don’t think I’m as old as I am which is not a humblebrag), I have tattoos and bleached hair and a nose ring and a fancy degree and my job is to teach crusty superintendents how to feel their feelings at work, why are the youths so sensitive these days anyway, etc., — so in my mind, I don’t need to be known for having an attention disorder on top of everything else.

That’s what I’ll tell you, at least. In reality, I don’t think it matters what industry I’m in because I’ve had both great and fucking terrible bosses in all of them. I’ve doubted myself in all of them at some point and I could draw up a litany of reasons why I’d want to keep this to myself in all of them, when really I want to be acknowledged for it and more than that I want to be able to relate to others, and help others from a place of “I get it, I actually do”, but I can’t do that where I am right now. I am terrified of going off on my own is the truth, but I want to, and it’s just a matter of when at this point.

Today was a good session. I see her every Monday afternoon and honestly, I can’t wait to see how things are going 6 months from now.

[spikesbimbo]

Drunk in Love

Summary:  Getting drunk and confessing your love for your “boy” friend and fucking him was most definitely not what you expected to go down on the usual night.

Pairing: Issei Matusukawa x Reader

Tags: Timeskip!Tattoed Mattsun, softdom!issei Hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, smut, fluff, virgin!reader, Unptrotected sex, non-penetrative sex, fingering, oral, pussy/thigh job, clit slapping, sweet dirty talk, praise, drunk sex

Word count: 7.2k

A/N: I heard pussy job and I wrote a whole ass novel

18+ Minors DNI

You run your finger over the condensation of your empty drink, drawing shapes (or what you thought to be shapes, you couldn’t tell at this point) waiting for your dear friend, Makki to bring you a refill of your cocktail.  

“Here ya go.” Makki said as he returned with your beloved Malibu Sunset. The smooth coconut rum bringing you back to your first and favorite drink that you ever got drunk on in high school. You smiling at the memory

“Thanks.” you say. Your reply being mumbled by the liquid already in your mouth.

This all started with Iwaizumi calling Mattsun up, you and Makki hearing “You wanna get wasted?” on the other side of the phone. And with pleasure, you two were already packing your stuff up, shoving yalls “pregame” bottles back in the bag. The three of you made your happy way there climbing through the fence of the abandoned skate park you were in. Needles to say it was abandoned for a reason, but what’s life without a little danger.

You three and the rest of the third years have been friends since high school, meeting in freshman year, and now including Oikawa’s girlfriend. You actually didn’t like Oikawa at first, his “pretty boy” demeanor making you internally cringe. But his personality grew quickly on you, being the perfect target to tease you and Iwa clowning him over everything.

Now back to you on your nth drink, complaining about your previous job that fired you because u got injured, even though you know you wouldn’t have lasted long there anyways because you weren’t that academically inclined. Bright? Whatever you wanted to call it.

And as-usual it wasn’t long before your crybaby ass immediately called Makki and Issei and “tried” your best to tell them what happed with your dramatic self-induced tears running down you race, while Makki urged to you to try to calm down and Issei straight up laughing at the state your were in, snot running out of your nose. You recoiling at the thought, hoping they forgot. (Spoiler, they didn’t)

But now you nanny for a rich couple and you get payed good to play with cute babies all day, sounds good to you! Luckily, you had the week off due to them going on a vacation, you think it was France, no, the south of France. Must be nice.

Cue to now, Mattsun chuckling and leaning on you and Iwaizumi; both of you, especially Iwa, being visibly done with his shit. Him reminding you about the times you bought him some random shit, which you went out of your way for since he always payed for you, like that chopper keychain because you said it reminder you of him.

He didn’t know what compelled you to say his 6’2, tattooed built self looked like a tiny reindeer but okay. It still meant a lot to him, hooking it onto his motorcycle keys. But you knew he appreciated it, despite his appearance he’s a softie.

“You wanna try this’” He says gaining his composure offering you one of the shots he got.

You took one of the mini glasses, not being the type to back down and promptly swung the drink to the back of your mouth, quickly coughing before it even reached your throat.

“This shit is fucking gross.” You coughed out bringing the glass down from your lips.

  “Imagine being sober. Can’t relate.” He said taking another shot.

  “I guess I should do that but ive passed the point of giving a fuck” You said sending yall into a giggling fit while somehow Makki was thrown in to support yall from falling over. You two carry on laughing ignoring everyone’s stares at you thinking about how much yall fit perfectly together.  

   Makki rearranges himself to sit back in his chair, far away, from the both of you, whispering “Damn. I’m really third wheeling.” under his breath. Getting a snicker out of Oikawa sitting next to him.

   “When your best friends are ignoring you. Sad times.” He continues bringing his bottle to his mouth getting no response.

  Issei chuckles and gets up shoving his hands in his pocket reaching for the cigarettes. Pulling them out while failing to find his lighter

  “Fuck.” He muttered

  “Any’all got a light?”

  No one responds so you sacrifice yourself “Yeah” you say reaching into your pocket grabbing out your prized possession of a hot pink, bedazzled lighter that you did yourself, reaching out to hand it to him.

  “Don’t lose it” you stated seriously trying not to break a smile.

  “K’ sweet cheeks.” He said smirking into the butt between his lips as he walked away. Your face now burning up, hoping that everyone would think it was because of the alcohol.

  You mind wanders, thinking about the “dates” you two go on, from watching shows you “forcing” him to watch some romantic anime, to going to the skatepark, to playing video games with the rest of the 3rd years (which you don’t really like but you’ll play for him) and him surprising you with takeout, you bringing out candles trying your best to make it cute with him telling u everything you everything about his day.

  And you always tried to remain calm, even though sometimes he deserved to get his ass beat, like that one time he broke one of your favorite pair of heels. It honestly hurt him even more, he wanted you to get mad at him but no, you just acted like nothing happened. Making the guilt rise in him. Let’s just say didn’t have to lift a finger for the next few weeks.

You basically babied him, taking care of all his “chores”, mainly making him food when you were at his place knowing he hated doing it. Makki teasing you for acting like his housewife, leading to you slapping the shit outta him while trying to cover your now red cheeks.

You’ve never been so grateful for your attire at the moment, blessing yourself for not wearing your usual outfits of short skirts and cute tops, defending yourself saying what housewife dresses in beat up vans and baggy clothes. You definitely not imaging yourself in that position for the rest of the day.

 You expressed that you just liked to take care of people, which was true. You always looked out for them, bringing an extra umbrella, to bringing cookies you made at 2 in the morning to school, always carrying band-aids (yes, the paw patrol ones you took from the kids you babysit).

You checked the time on your phone seeing it was late since the sun at last went down, your lock screen being your dogs to their complaint since they have a group photos of you all from high school as theirs. To which you replied “They’re my babies” getting a groan and huff out of them.

  Seeing the notifications of your group chat you grinned at the contact name you and Issei gave each other; yall jokingly call each other pet names, his contact being honeybun and yours being pumpkin, even including Makki in your contacts as pudding bc then it wasn’t weird, right? no.

  “What’re you smiling at y/n?” Oikawa cheekily asks teasing you. You turn to him giving him a dirty look, not having enough energy to deal him right now.

  “Don’t listen to his bullshit.” Oikawa’s girlfriend says. You’re thankful for her. She was always on your side, being the only other girl in your friend group. To be honest you just wanted her and you to hang out most of the time, but of course to your disapproval her boyfriend and his friends had to join in.

  “Fuck this. Fuck you. I’m sleeping.” You say getting up to her objection, the only thing on your mind wanting to retire for the night.

  “You sure you’ll be fine? Let us at least walk you home.” She said already grabbing her boyfriend’s arm.

  “Nah, im good. I live right down the road.” You try to say not slurring. The last thing you want is him teasing you even more, especially in this state, knowing you, you’d probably start crying at the slightest irritation when youre this drunk.

    You started to “walk” towards your house resting  your hand against the brick walls to not lose your balance, leading you to run into Issei. You stopped to watch him lean against the alley holding a cigarette between his index and middle finger.

  “I’m hiding like a bitch” He says noticing you, resting his weight against the wall.

 “Wanna be a bitch with me? He grinned  blowing out the smoke out with his words.

You didn’t reply, just walking over to him, just being around him made you feel warm.

"Fuck its windy.” He says trying to light a new cig.

“C’you make me a house?” He asks.

You go up and put your hands around his cigarette, this not being your first time. Your hands wrap a little tighter to prevent the wind from burning out his flame. He joins you with his free hand helping, finally getting his cig to light.

 “Thanks doll” He smirks.

“No problem princess.” You reply earning a laugh out of him.

He takes his first hit with his and your hands still wrapped around it. He gets an up-close look at your hands, noticing how tiny they were, seeing all the scars that he never noticed, making a mental note to ask you how you got them later.

His head gets close to yours for the first time in a while due to his height. You glance at his face, noticing his features seeing some stubble growing on his face.

“You ain’t shave?” You ask, never seeing it in the past, while he was moving back up, blowing the smoke away from you.

“What, you don’t like my majestic beard? “He jokes. Making you giggle almost losing your balance before catching yourself on the wall.

  “s’too much work.” He starts. “You wanna shave it for me?” he says slightly leaning towards you. Handing you back your lighter knowing you didn’t need him to carry it because your pants actually had pockets in them for once.

You let out a soft laugh not responding again. He catches on, you got quiet when you were tired and he made out that you were walking towards your house.

“You going home?” he asks already knowing the answer.

“Yeah.” You respond more than happy to have him walk you back, him already moving to walk next to you.

He walks you home, you two talking about random shit, both of you forgetting about your skateboards leaving Makki to deal with them. And even though you’re drunk as fuck you’re still in the right state of mind, carrying a normal conversation with him. But just because you’ve built a tolerance doesn’t mean you can do basic tasks, like walk correctly.

When he reaches your house, he types in the keycode, your first dogs birthday, being glad that you, him and Makki have each other’s memorized.

He leads you into you house setting you on the couch, petting your dogs that ran up to him.

“Mommy’s not feeling too good” He said giving them the affection they deserved.

“Yes I am.” You slurred getting them attention on you now.

He walked over to your counter putting on the playlist that you two made together on shuffle, High fashion being the first to play. You didn’t like when it was quiet because too many thoughts would run though your head. You were in no way sad, singing the lyrics while you were laughing barely being able to hold yourself up as proof.

Remembering you were tired, he takes you off the couch and borderline carries you to your room, , setting you on your plush blankets that you had so many of because it was warm and comfy.

 “Easy, there. Try to sit up.”He said, trying to ask you what draws your pj’s were in because he didn’t want to snoop around; neither of you being bothered that you were half naked, what’s the difference between panties and a bikini, he thought remembering the times you’ve been to the beach together.  

Well it was maybe the fact that you were clinging onto him because u stumbled into him and he was closest stable thing around and you wouldn’t let go because it was cold and you couldn’t stop shaking.

 He ignores his thoughts and grabs the shirt he got out figuring you don’t need to change your bra because you told him and Makki that it was normal to keep it on for a few days after they were in awe as you were explaining how expensive they were. You calling Oikawa’s girlfriend to prove your point as she immediately agreed with you…Sometimes you might have got a little too comfortable with them.

You hear the song in the background change to Love Songs, you humming along, “Hope you smile when you listen.”

You were still holding on to him, your boobs squeezing against him, him only being able to put a t-shirt on you, while you looked up at him with your red glossy eyes making him burn up.  

You fidget timidly with your face now in his chest while gripping his sweater. Trying to build up the little courage you had. He tilts your head up making you look at him, wondering what you were thinking about.

  You try to express yourself, but you can’t get the words out him having no idea what is going on in your head at the moment.

“It’s okay to be nervous sometimes. Tell me” He gently says reading your body language. He was intuitive, so there was no way you could hide your feelings from him.

But you knew you could trust him, him having full self-control, always staying collected and following through on what he said he’d do.  He went out of his way to avoid any friction coming between you two, him never raising his voice or starting an argument.

“We need to talk.” You started. “About something important.”

“Ok…What is it?” He questioned rubbing his hands on your back. You were so nervous, were you really about to say this? Confess your feelings that you’ve pushed to the back of your heart for so long?

“I… I l… I love your face. And the stuff in it. and around it.” You spoke, being surprised you did it stutter.

He stood there, hands stopped moving trying to process what you just said.

“Just you, in general…”  You finally confess trying to state three things at once barely getting your words out.

But he understood exactly what you meant, or maybe he was warping what you said to fit what he wanted.

  "I don’t even know when I started liking you, but this shit won't go away." You restated

  Nope. He clearly just heard you say that.

  He doesn’t understand what’s so different about today. Yall have been in this scenario multiple times taking care of each other, sometimes including another into the mix.  

You didn’t understand either. You just felt like the time was right, even though you know it wasn’t the best idea to confess while you were drunk off your ass.

But you couldn’t help it, your feelings overflowing, which you never until this day let get the best of you, being vulnerable and trusting is not your usual . Youve never even had a crush on anyone, him being to only in your whole life to make you blush.

  Who you been vibin' wit and why I can't make you mine?

  You should have seen the signs that you feel for him when he helped that lady that lives down the street from him set up her Christmas lights or when he first met your dog that wasn’t fond of men, but it instantly liked him. And you loved his selflessness it was something you admired and applauded.

  “y/n” He tries talking you down, making sure you weren’t just saying this because of alcohol, deep down knowing he felt the same, you always being in the back of his mind.

You were generous with your time too, always being there for him. You knew he was softer than he appeared, he was tender, sensitive and vulnerable. He tried his hardest to not get into situations where anyone would get hurt, like breakups, arguments, and so on.

Which is why he won’t make the first move. He pushes his feelings to the back of his head. He values your friendship more than anything, but he can see what develops. If love is meant to be, it will happen.

I told you I am down for the worse or the better. But I keep sticking to you cause them four stupid letters

    “You make me so happy. And I’ll always care about you. Okay? He says breaking the silence, trying to reassure you.  

  “You mean so much to me—something I can’t even put into words because nothing can compare- I’ve wanted you since that day you tripped and bust your ass in the school hallway I still want you even though you drive me insane.”

  “Iss-“ You tried to get out only to have him continue talking over you.

  "I love that you can’t leave the house without a jacket. I love the wrinkles that appear on your forehead after you call me crazy. I love that it takes you hours to get ready. I love that you always know how to make me feel better. I love that even when you don’t agree with my decisions you always trust me to make them.  I love that when I spend a day with you, I can still smell you on my clothes; and I love that you are the last person I think of  before I go to sleep at night."

  You stood there awestruck for what feels like eternity until you mustered the bravery to speak “I didn’t expect you to feel the same way-” You said, being dumbfounded because from what you’ve seen treats everyone “nice”, were you really getting special treatment?

  He tilts your chin up, locking his dark eyes with yours. “Baby I don’t know if your notice but you and Makki are my only people that aren’t my family that call me my first name.”

He has a point. You think pushing yourself more into him, trying to fuse your bodies together to hide, not relaxing what you were doing to him. He tries to nudge your legs to the side but you won’t let go still clinging onto him.

“fuck” He groans. You pulling back wondering why until you looked down and noticed. A smirk appeared on your face as you reattached your self to him like velcro. You were feeling bold, the liquid courage still in your system driving you to slide your fingers down his chest, looking him in the eyes before stopping at his waistband.  

He knows what you’re doing, him being in this position multiple times. Does he really want to ruin your friendship like this? He hasn’t even asked you to be his girlfriend. He tries to push you off him already knowing you were gonna complain. But what he didn’t expect was for you to whimper out his name in that pretty voice of yours.

 He tried to keep his calm, blood already rushing down. “You know what you’re doing”

“yeah” You start.

“y’don’t want me?” Giving him your pouty face that you know he’s weak for, hoping that’ll work, insecurity piling up. Was it because your boobs weren’t that big or that fact that you were dressed like man? Was he not attracted to you right now, only liking you when you were dolled up?

“Fuck” You think. You should have worn something cute instead of dressing like a whole ass man even with your makeup fully done. Its not like you were supposed to know you were gonna get fucked today.

His were burning holes into you now, thinking of how to say “No, I would be more that happy to fuck you!” to his best friend, soon regaining his consciousness finally speaking.

“Fuck no doll, ive wanted you for a minute. You know me better than I know myself. How did you not notice my feelings?”

 You got me singing love songs, love songs, love songs

“You’re really hard to read” You replied trying to maintain your seductive act, resting your hands back on his chest.

“So are you.” He said lowering his head, you still looking up at him, taking in your gleaming eyes.

Sex ain't the only thing that's on my mind But you get me so excited, whoa

Your heart was beating so wildly that you could only take little sips of breath. His hands running down your waist stopping at your hips.

“Can I kiss you?" He asks "...yeah” you attempted to say as confidently as you could, nodding your head along with it.

His face bent down, hot mouth breathing over you. His lips slowly moved, brushing over yours, the liquor on his lips that you hated; only choosing fruity drinks even though you got relentlessly teased you for it.  You pushed further into the kiss desperately wanting more. Your teeth clicking his from being impatient, wanting to suck him in. Your hands sliding under his shirt subconscious desires reaching out.

Irreplaceable Tattoos from your neck that drop down to your ankles

“You’re drunk…” he says snapping you out of your trance.

“So are you.”

He dove in for another kiss much more passionate than the previous one, arguably needy, pusing you on the bed to which you more than happily comply. He tugs back not letting his mind get the best of him, disconnecting your spit trial leaving you panting. “You sure this alright?” He says deep down hoping you still say yes.

  You pull him back for your answer, your grabby little hands working their way back up his shirt. He gets the hint and pauses your lips rendezvous, taking off the turtleneck that he looked oh so good in, before seeing his unclothed body.  You’re admiring his body in a new way, before just complimenting him whenever he got a new tattoo, now up under him tracing them like a lovestruck teenager.

“When did you get this one?” You quietly ask, his ears closer to you than they’ve ever been.

“I got it that day you faked sick”

“What! You said were gonna take me!” You sulked, turning your head away from his as much as you could, crossing your arms.

He let out a slight laugh before gently taking your face in his hands, guiding you back into the kiss.

This is not really what he imagined for your first time. He’s an old-fashioned romantic who likes to take one step at a time. But then again nothing was ever normal with you. That said, when he falls in love, he falls deep.

“You’ve done this before?” You uttered.

“Hmm?” He mumbles, unmoving his lips from you kissing you, moving towards your neck.

“You still with that other girl?”

“No. I broke it off her, everything that came out of her mouth was bullshit, and no she wasn’t my girlfriend.”

“You didn’t trust her? You added. Trying to distract him until you could think of a way you could say “hey in my 21 years of life I’ve never got passed kissing a guy.”

“Our relationship was purely built on lies, I’d second guess everything she said. He replied, wondering if you were interrogating him.

“Why’d you wanna know?” He asked bringing his face up from your skin.

“…No one’s ever touched me like this, fuck.” You bashfully admitted, thoughts racing through your head that he didn’t want you anymore because you weren’t experienced.

But he knew what was running through that pretty head of yours, his fingers reaching out to with your hair trying to comfort you.

“You’re a virgin?” He curiously asked dragging his hand to your cheek, you leaning into it.

“y-yeah” you muttered trying to move your eyes away from his looking down at his body.

“I thought you had a boyfriend before” he said, softly turning your jaw to make you look at him. Your eyes diverted from his arms back to his eyes.

“We weren’t actually dating” You quickly say trying to clear up the misunderstanding. “He was my friend and seatmate that pretended to be my fake boyfriend to get me out of some trouble” you spewed out “and I guess I forgot to tell everyone that it was fake.”

“Even if we were that doesn’t mean we fucked.” You sheepishly replied.

“So… what trouble did your fake boyfriend get you out of.” He questioned knowing how much trouble it must have been for you, miss independent, to go to such lengths.

“Umm, well…this guy wouldn’t stop flirting with me even after I told him I don’t like him, even following me to my other classes.”

He wasn’t surprised, you were definitely a sight for sore eyes, in fact the prettiest thing he’s laid his eyes on, your beaming eyes, your dimple when you smiled, your pretty face, your “ugly” laugh, he could go on for days.

“Why are we talking about this” You whined, reaching your hand back out to him.

He took a hint and continued kissing you, bringing you closer to him while you attempted to take you shirt off. His hands helping you seeing as that you were struggling, being lost in his touch, finishing by moving you up more on you bed, pushing your plushies out of the way, to your protested because “they had feelings too.”

He ignored you, bending down to pull your panties off stopping once he saw the slick coming through them.

“Fuck baby you’re wet” He breathed dragging his fingers across your clothed slit earing a whimper from you, leaving his fingers drenched.

 Shawty, you wanna feel good, I wanna feel good too Don't I make you feel good?

“M’always wet.” you responded.

From what? He questions taking off your soaked cotton panties, tossing them to the side.

“From me?” He smirks bringing his hand back towards your heat. You not even comprehending what he just said, just knowing that you’re ashamed of how worked up you were getting.

You were in awe. You’ve always known his hands were big, but in this situation your mind wondered. His fingers were so much bigger than yours knowing you can barely fit two inside your with out it hurting, and not in a good way.

“Do you know how pretty you are? It’s honestly distracting.”. He says kissing down your whole body, stopping at your breasts, licking lazily around and coming back to the nub. The attention on your nipples making you squirm and he finally lets go, you grateful that he stopped or you would have almost cum, how embarrassing.

“I thought you said were gonna get them pierced” He remembered, you going on a whole rant about how cute they were.

“You said u were gnna get em with me” You looked back on, reminding yourself making him promise to get them with you because you were too scared of the pain.

“That was the same day you played sick and I got that tattoo.” He stated lightening the mood, hoping you can calm yourself down before you actually embarrass yourself.

He picks back up and continues kissing all the way down your body, you playing with his hair while biting your lip to muffle your moans and whine until he reaches your entrance.

He parted your legs, your pussy laid out before him, believing you no have reason to be shy about it either. He paused, admiring your swollen cunt and puffy clit, you were beautiful.

The feeling that he didn't want anyone else ever in his position overtook him. He let out a little breath on your clit and you thrashed around. He wasn't going to play. “I’ll take care of you.”

His lips travel over your skin, light and heated before settling himself between your legs, grabbing you by your thighs and dragging you closer. “That tickles.” you giggle, nerves making you kick your legs, almost hitting him in the face before he grabs them. He puts them down locking your legs with his arms, lowering himself until he’s on the ground facing you.

“Does it make you nervous when I stare?” he teases while your covering your face trying to hide the blush he caused.  He puts his mouth on you, quickly gripping your thighs, his hands leaving imprints in your skin dragging you even more into him, deprived kisses taking over your body. 

“yer so pretty” You purred seeing the sight of his big build between your legs, your fingers grabbing onto his curly dark locks, tugging them.

  Issei moans, his voice radiating through your body, forcing out a cry, blessing him with your pretty voice. “I-Issei!” You cry, never feeling like this before, your vibrator and hands doing it no justice.

“Shh, just look at me, doll.”

You can barely make out what he says, so drunk on pleasure. You try your best, doing anything to see the pretty man beneath you. But you get interrupted by your pleasure, your back arching not being able to control your body, grinding down to meet his lips, heat rising in you.

He kisses through your wetness playing with your bud. You choking on your spit, back arching again your body tensing up. “Issei,” You beg, grabbing him knowing what you want but not being able to express it. Luckily he can read you like an open book, knowing what you want, driving you over the edge as he makes you see stars. “Good girl,” he sighs when he feels you let go of his wrist letting him bring you your first orgasm.

“Look at your thighs shaking so much.” He teasingly cooed, wrapping his hands around them, bringing you out of your daze.

Shawty, your body is so exciting

Arching your back into the blankets, letting out a whine “Want your fingers.”.

He lets out a condescending laugh. “You need to learn to be patient. You just came and you’re already so eager for more?”

But by the time he finished your body went limp, you were totally weak, body loose-limbed and pliant. Your mind clouded by lust and deep in your own world. You gasped out a little sob, unable to comprehend anything beyond the discomfort and the need to have it gone. You can’t think straight all you can do is take action, grabbing his arm him easing his fingers into to you.

It’s not too tight, is it?” you ask clenching around his fingers.

 “Just relax… let yourself feel it” He says barely being able to move in you. Fuck so were so tight.

“I love the way you look with my fingers inside you.” He added starting to thrust them inside you, making you let out a string of moans.

“Look how good you take it.”  

“Fuck, you’re so messy.” He groaned feeling the slick running down his hands, before taking them out.

“Issei-i,” You cried when he pulled away, pleasure leaving you, tears coming back.

  He shushes you easily, his fingers wiping your tears. You were so precious to him, your moans music to his ears.  He slows down repositioning his fingers, making you let out a whimper squeezing around them. Your brains so crowded you can’t focus, can’t gather the strength to speak when he thrust them faster inside you.

  Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you fell back, fingers curling inside you, chanting his name over and over, incoherent words coming out of your mouth begging for more. 

You pussy tightens as you cum, unable to breath, letting out gasps and whines. Him still fucking you, fingers not stopping, pushing them in and out relentlessly feeling both pain and pleasure. You lay there, wet in your own cum not giving yourself a break before you went and got what you really wanted, his cock.

His eyes followed the movement of your hands as they pushed down his boxers, revealing the length of his cock, that jutted proudly from his hips. He was so pretty, so virile and handsome. Wondering how lucky you were to be in such a position with him.

You pushed away those thoughts and focused on him, pulling him forward gently, but he followed his encouragement. One of his hands tilted his cock down toward your lips. “Open your mouth for me, baby.”

You parted them instantly, tongue sliding slightly outward, and then you whimpered as the warm weight of his cock slid into your mouth. You let your eyes flutter closed and swirled your tongue around the tip of his cock not knowing exactly what you were doing, but it was working, tasting the salty tang of the precum that wept from his leaking slit. You moved your tongue as the he put his hand into your hair, gripping the strands and pushing deeper into his mouth.

“You look so good on your knees like that. “He says meeting your eyes once again, almost cumming from the picture below him.

“Slowly, baby, I’m not going anywhere.” He says slowing you down by grabbing your hair, making a pace that you follow.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby, just like that.” Seeing that sinful look in your eyes with your redden swollen lips.

You moan feeling yourself drip down your thighs, getting even wetter giving him head. Trying to ease the discomfort by closing your legs, griding them together, trying to find some friction. Your ears hearing “That’s so fucking hot.” watching the scene unfold beneath him.

Your jaw hurts, trying got make him cum faster using your hands and lips together hollowing your cheeks. “Oh fuck, oh, Jesus, fuck yes, there, just like that, fucking Christ" he groans out, his voice sounded beautiful to your ears, knowing he was about to cum.

He finally lets go cumming in your mouth, you swallowing it all, trying not to wince at the taste. “Did I do good” You ask waiting for his reply. Your doll eyes, so red and worn out looking up at him for approval. Fuck he was whipped.

“Yeah…fuck baby”

I love when you get on top and you ride it

You get back under him, his cock resting on you, drenched and clenching around nothing, resting in your cum. You working yourself up against him.

“What makes you think I’m going to fuck you?” He says to your complaint.

“You’re not ready yet.” he mumbles against your whining. Spreading your legs, slapping your clit a few times before letting his cock rest on your folds. Finally getting “seated” he picks up your legs and puts them both on one of his shoulders your thighs warming his cock, your knees touching his cheek not moving, getting a kick out of how desperate your were for him.

“s-stop being mean” You cried reaching out for him to come closer, needing affection after all you’ve been though.

“Aww, poor baby, you want me to take care of it for you? He says leaning into you, reaching your kiss, tasting the remnants of the cum in your mouth.

He plundered your mouth and slowly teased his cock over your entrance, catching it against your clit and making you whimper into the kiss, clearly wanting to be fucked. Your kiss turned you sucking on Issei’s tongue and lips, biting the swollen pout until his lips were red and puffy. He pulled back and looked down at you, a beautiful mess under him.

His fat cock head pushed between your folds. The moan escaping both of your lips was primal. You were turned on beyond imagination and the way he was thrusting forward, spreading his leaking precum on your wet clit was almost too much. He quickly picked up his pace fucking your folds, his warm head brushing against your clit with every movement, but your greedy self wanted more.

The fact that he made you cum so easily made you proud. Just because you’ve never gone this far with someone else doesn’t mean you’ve never cum, you’ve had a lot of practice over the years, being insatiable, the sheets soaked underneath you from your previous orgasms being proof.

“Keep your eyes open, look at me, baby.” He moans getting your attention him.

You tried, you really tried, but the way he was stroking you, imagining what it’d be like to actually sit on his cock, the lewd sounds echoing in the background leaving you unable to focus.

He taps on your cheek eventually getting you look at him, keeping your mind on him by placing his fingers in your mouth you letting him, hazily sucking on them, not being able to close your mouth.

“Oh, baby, you’re drooling everywhere.” He grumbles. Your spit dripping onto his fingers, the friction of your thighs making him feral, moving at an even faster pace. Your body bouncing with every thrust.

“You gonna cum after I cum on your little clit? Come one more time for me, I know you’ve got it in you.” You sob feeling the puddle beneath you, time slowing, fire pooling in your tummy.  Listening to his words you let yourself go. You come with a silent scream as the pleasure ripped through your body, your nails scratching his soft skin. Your vison fading to black feeling him lose his rhythm and moaning a mixture of curse words along with your name, feeling him cum on your tummy before resting his head in your neck while letting your legs go.

“So good for me, look at how much you came.” He says breaking the static. You whining into his shoulder, emotions high, never doing this before.

“I know, baby, I know. I’m right here, just breathe.” He says. You two laying in silence for an unclear amount of time, him rubbing your back while you rest in his chest almost dozing off.

“Are we still…friends?” You croak out trying to hold back your sobs already knowing the answer that you two were defiantly not friends now and never would be just friends again.

“Friends don’t do this type of shit” He maintained grabbing your shoulders to sit you and him up. You were worried, did he only do this with you because he was drunk? You were anxious that you scared him away because you just poured your heart out to him and pushed yourself on him. You left your head down, tears already coming out to your dismay. You moved your hand up to wipe them but he beat you to it.

“Look at me… I love you.” He says holding your cheeks in his palm. You in awe, hoping that you weren’t imagining it, that this was real life.

“R-really” You question making him worry too, preferring to forgive and forget rather than letting this a divide between the two of you in case you went back on your feelings. You were so overwhelmed, never feeling love until this moment, so happy that the person you longed for liked you back. Yours tears running once again.

 “Shh, shh, it’s alright...Don’t cry.”

You don’t even know why you were crying, the hangover already getting to you making you get a headache. You groaning in his arms complaining that your head and throat hurt.

“Ill be back” he says detaching himself from you, letting you know he was coming right back.

He walks to your fridge opening it to see every drink but water, having too dig through all of them, especially the absurd amount of apple juice guessing it was your “once a year craving for it”. He finally got you some cold water, putting It in a cup and waked back to your room.

  “Issei” you whined not picking your head up from the pillow.

  “Shh baby im right here.”

  He sat down beside you on your bed lifting your head up. “Here drink this” he reassured, to which you ignored not wanting anything to go in your mouth, just wanting the day, or night as it was now, to end.

  “It’s just water, honey, look.” You sat yourself up with his help seeing him in just his boxers, you remembering your still naked, not caring enough to cover yourself. He held to glass to your mouth, babying you, tilting it far back enough to where you could drink it. The water hit the back of your mouth feeling like a shot making you cough.

“I know, it hurts. I’m sorry but we have to” He stated. You continued to drink it, feeling the stinging in the back of your throat, him comforting you, calling you “good girl” which was unsurprisingly working.

  He put the cup on your dresser when you finished, climbing back into bed with you leaning your body into his. “Have you ever thought about...us? Y’know, as an...item?” he said causing you to look at him with wide eyes.

 “Call me selfish, but I don’t ever want anyone else to touch you.” He insisted making you cheeks flush. You try to think of a way to respond, not wanting to keep him waiting.

“You’re the best thing that has, and ever will, happen to me. Not only am I deeply in love with you, you’re my best friend.” You stammer out, your shaky hands somehow made there way to his neck, letting them fall slowly before he grabs them dragging you in for a kiss before you got to even see his face.

“Everybody has always thought we’re a couple.” He continued taking his time kissing you all over your face. “Then I guess we should be.” You retort, kissing him back before you could see his reaction, not wanted to be embarrassed anymore today. But he caught you, holding you still “Really “y/n? Like deadass?” He asked.

  “Yes dummy, I want to be your girlfriend” You say causing him to grin swearing you’ve never seen him smile that big, before he gives you one last kiss.

  “I always kiss you on the cheek, why are you blushing now? He teases laying back down, you following along. You just snuggle into him mumbling something along the lines of “m’tired”, he understanding and speaking to you in a soft, gentle voice while helping you to bed, so he doesn’t make it harder for you to sleep by being loud. “I’m here love, I’m not going anywhere.” He whispers into your ear mkanig your heart swoon one last time before you pass out.

  “I l-love you issei.” You sleepily mumble.

“Tell me this when you’re sober.” He says stroking your head.

“Just relax, close your eyes...”He murmurs, your heart beating slower every second. Both of you together, lazy, slow presses. Limbs pressed together, chests heaving, fingers trailing down backs, tracing lazy patterns.

  “Oh!…” He remembers. “If you really wanna get them pierced, we could get matching ones.”

© all content belongs to spikesbimbo. do not alter or repost .

[things-we-cant-say]

pretty little liar

Pairing: Ten x Female!Reader

Summary: In order to get your annoying ex off your back, you tell a little white lie that takes an unexpected turn.

Genre: College!AU

Warnings: Smutty smut, dirty dancing

Word Count: 4,867

A/N: Unable to withstand Ten’s power any longer, I had to start writing about him…or a version of him anyway. Hope someone out there enjoys my first dip into the ~imagines~ pond. ☺️

The party was in full swing by the time you and your best friend Amy arrived, the music so loud it could be heard down the street. It was a wonder the cops hadn’t broken it up yet but hey, the night was still young. Ducking through the arched doorway with Amy hot on your heels, you let her guide you into the foyer where you both stopped to take in the scene. The place was packed with people dancing, drinking and laughing—everyone apparently having a great time. Which was perfect for you because all you wanted to do was blow off a little steam and pretend you hadn’t spent the day fantasizing about committing the perfect murder.

You enjoyed school for the most part and you enjoyed your classes, but really you couldn’t wait for it all to just be over. Two extra years and your master’s degree in linguistics was almost within your grasp. You still weren’t one hundred percent what you planned to do with it (teaching was definitely out) but either way you were ready to dive into the real world. To no longer be stressed out about exams and papers and boring ass professors that constantly seemed to have a stain on their tie.

And to get far, far away from your stupid ex, Adam.

“Uh oh you have murder face,” Amy said as she peeped around to look at you. “What’s wrong?”

You shrugged. “Just in my head I guess.”

Amy hummed. “I get it. That’s why we are here though! To get fucked up and do something we regret in the morning.”

You laughed. “Guess we’re Uber-ing home.”

She grinned and grabbed your wrist, pulling you over to a table loaded with different types of alcohol. The guy ‘tending bar’ as it were winked as you two approached. “What can I get you for?”

“Something with alcohol but where we can’t taste the alcohol!” Amy exclaimed happily. “Oh! And if you’ve got any little umbrellas I’d like one of those too.”

He did finger guns and proceeded to cook something up in two red cups, sticking in two pink umbrellas when he was done. You and Amy took your drinks and after a cursory sniff, took a sip. The tequila wasn’t as strong as with a single shot but you could still detect it just not enough to make you stop drinking. Unlike Amy you didn’t plan to get completely fucked up but you weren’t going to say no to a nice buzz.

Cups in hand you migrated onto the dance floor and fell in with everyone else, bopping to the beat and scream chatting over the loud music.

“I really needed this!” Amy yelled. “Statistics is kicking my cute little ass!”

“I know what you mean!” You shouted. “But hey! Soon we’ll be done and actual jobs will be kicking our cute little asses!”

Laughing, Amy bounced up and down, sending her blonde hair flying. “Is that why you’ve been so grumpy lately? Or is it…he who shall not be named?”

With a sigh you took a big sip of your strawberry margarita. “Yeah. He keeps fucking calling me and leaving me these stupid ass messages, apologizing and shit. I’ve blocked him but he just uses someone else’s phone.”

Amy’s eyes stretched wide. “That’s like stalker behavior! Or maybe he really is sorry for what he did.”

You snorted. “Sorry for having sex with his ex in the backseat of my car? As far as I am concerned he can take his ‘sorrys’ and shove them so far up his ass they come out his mouth as safaris!”

Amy choked a little on her drink, hitting you hard on the arm in admonishment after she stopped coughing. “I hate you! I could have died!”

Her words made you smirk. “But did you? No but for real, fuck Adam. Fuck Adam and anyone who even looks like Adam!”

“Woo!” Amy threw both hands up into the air, yelping as liquid sloshed down onto her head. “Oh shit! Drink emergency I’ll be right back!”

Before you could say anything, she turned and hurried back towards the drink table. Alone in the middle of a dancing crowd, you didn’t know whether you should slink over to a corner or just keep dancing. That last thing you wanted was some random dude trying to groove with you. Of course if you decided to hold up the wall nothing would stop some random dude from trying to hit on you either. At a bit of a loss you drained the rest of your drink and did a I don’t really know anyone two step, hoping Amy would return soon.

The tequila settled nice and warm in your stomach, making you feel more at ease. Most of the people at the party were from your school but not ones you associated with on like, a daily basis. Sure you recognized a few faces from the library or cafeteria but there was no one you’d had more than a surface conversation with.

And then your eyes landed on him. Ten.

Ten was a…different sort of person altogether. He was the kinda guy CW shows thought actually existed in college, except he was very real. And very much fucking gorgeous in that unattainable way CW shows also loved. However, that sort of did him a disservice because as far as you knew, he was just a decent guy who happened to be able to do some pretty awesome things.

For example, he was an amazing dancer. The kinda dancer that just freaking mesmerized you when he moved. Had you wondering how in the hell had he taught his body to do that shit? One minute he was in total sync with everyone else and the next he was performing his solo and blowing your mind. He’d done some show a few months ago with a friend and you’d nearly flipped out of your chair watching him work. The body rolls, the attitude, the way he’d just commanded the stage…whew. Was it possible to be a fan of someone who wasn’t famous?

Then there was his art; things he designed himself or drew from memory. Art class was essentially where you’d sorta came to be acquaintances with him. You weren’t exactly good at drawing but you liked it enough that you wanted to improve, plus it helped you de-stress after particularly hard days. Ten on the other hand excelled and just like with dancing, it was interesting to watch his process. He’d described himself as a sensory artist so he wasn’t always as concerned with the end product as the professor sometimes wanted him to be. From your eye though he’d yet to create anything that wasn’t remarkable. In fact, more than once you’d wanted to ask him to design a tattoo for you, but felt it would be kinda weird. He had no idea what you were into after all. So far your conversations with him had consisted of colors and that one time he’d asked to borrow one of your brushes.

You were pretty sure he’d sold something to an art gallery.

Anyway so Ten could dance and he could draw and he could sing and he was fluent in several languages; as far as you knew the only thing he was kind of shit at was cooking. But who hadn’t set a class kitchen on fire once or twice? Or three times…

If he were an asshole—well people would probably still crush on him—you’d count that as a major flaw and want to keep your distance. But the kicker was that he could do cool things and he was nice. Dorky even especially when it came to cute animals. Was always posting pictures of himself at the animal shelter playing with the kittens and the puppies, or just acting like an idiot with friends. Yet it was that confidence that made him seem untouchable, and also made him sexy as fuck. More than once you’d fantasized about biting his Adam’s apple.

Heh.

Shaking your head, you fanned lightly at your face with both hands. Maybe stepping outside for some fresh air would be a good idea.

“Y/N!” Amy nearly tripped over her pretty sandals in her hurry to get back to you. “Weewoo weewoo weewoo!”

“Um…”

She grabbed your shoulder. “It’s a police siren! We have a code red situation here, I repeat a code red! Adam just walked in!”

“What?” You blinked and immediately looked towards the doorway, brows narrowing when you saw she was right.

Standing there in a white t-shirt in his formerly handsome glory was your ex-boyfriend, Adam. Once upon a time you’d thought the world of him; thought he was the kinda guy you could probably marry someday. The kinda guy you’d introduced your family to. Turns out he was the kind of guy that hooked up with his ex in your car repeatedly until finally being caught in the act. Sure it had been gratifying to make him and her walk home half naked but it had done nothing to quell the pain left behind. Thankfully though your pain quickly turned to anger and now you usually focused on not murdering him when he popped up. There was a lot you could forgive but cheating was firmly in the do not cross zone. Everything you’d felt for him evaporated the moment you saw him with her.

And he’d promised he was over her. Lying piece of shit, you thought to yourself.

“What the hell is he doing here?! Does he even know anyone here?” you asked with a frown.

“I dunno!” your friend said slowly. “It’s possible, big campus and all. Do you want me to help you climb out of the bathroom window?”

“Yeah my boobs aren’t fitting through one of those skinny ass windows,” you replied wryly. “Though to be honest I’m almost willing to risk it. C’mon let’s—”

It was too late. Adam spotted you like an arrow searching for its target, eyes registering shock and then elation. He reached you in three quick strides, opening his arms for a hug that he was damned crazy to expect. “Y/N. Wow you—you look amazing. I’m so glad we ran into each other.”

You huffed. “I’m not. I told you we’re over Adam. Or does me blocking your calls not get the message across?”

He exhaled deeply. “Look I know I messed up but I’m sorry. Classes were just really tough and—and Lucy and I would reminisce about old times…”

“Do I look like I give a shit? You cheated on me and we’re over.” The lie came so easily. “Besides, I’ve moved on.”

“Yeah!” Amy poked him in the chest. “She’s moved on so suck it!”

Adam arched a brow. “You’ve moved on?” He sounded skeptical and that made your blood boil. “Since when? And with who?”

You’d once heard that Hippocrates came up with the saying drastic times call for drastic measures though it wasn’t something you’d be willing to bet money on. However, standing there with your ex eying you like he just knew you were lying brought a whole new meaning to the idiom. You would one hundred percent be damned before giving him the satisfaction of gloating.

Tequila’s kicking in…

Without missing a beat, you put a hand on your hip and motioned to Ten. “Him. I’m seeing him.”

Amy made a sound like a cat having its tail stepped on while Adam gaped at you. “What? I—no. No way. You’re totally lying. I’ve seen the people he’s dated and you’re not his type at all.”

This bitch.

Twirling on your black heels, you strolled across the room to where Ten sat in an arm chair, chatting with a few of his friends. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you straddled his lap and leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I know this is awkward as fuck—I’m so sorry—but if you just play along I will owe you big time. I’ll give you anything. You need a kidney? You can have a kidney.”

Ten’s friends had gone mute and as you sat back to gauge his reaction—or to possibly be thrown off of him—you bit your full bottom lip. His dark eyes were watching you calculatingly, his own lips pursed together like you were a riddle he needed to solve. Up close he was utterly breathtaking, all smooth skin and silky black hair that fell artfully across his forehead. He smelled incredible.

And then he spoke.

“There you are baby,” he said wrapping an arm around your waist. “I’ve been looking for you.”

That was when you figured you owed him your first born but it was fine. “Well, you found me. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

He chuckled. “You’re worth waiting for.”

His friends still looked confused though they didn’t have time to voice their opinions. Adam stalked over seconds later like a man on a mission. “So it’s true? You and Y/N are together?”

Ten tilted his head to the side and you saw the moment the lightbulb went off for him. “Yeah we’re together.”

Adam huffed. “Since when? For how long? Where did you two meet?”

Ten smirked. “Are you taking a survey or something?” He brushed his lips across your jaw, making you shiver. “The only thing that matters is that she’s mine. Let’s dance, Y/N.”

“I would love to,” you replied with a smile. You were also grateful he’d remembered your name.

You climbed off of his lap and took his hand, sending Adam a you thought look before pulling Ten out into the thick of the crowd. Your heart was beating a mile a minute but you felt too giddy to pay much attention to it. Plus, you knew Adam was watching you like a hawk and you didn’t want to let on how nervous you actually were. If he found out you were lying he’d never leave you alone and consider you pathetic to boot. Besides the nice buzz that was finally creeping down your spine told you everything would be fine. How could it not be?

Ten’s hands settled low on your hips and he gave you a little tug, pulling your back to his chest. You fit rather perfectly with him, his chin brushing the top of your head. Picking a rhythm in the song that thumped with bass, you began to move together. You rolled your ass against him and leaned your head back to rest on his shoulder, focusing on his breath as it ghosted across your neck. A silver of light wouldn’t have been able to get between you.

Normally you wouldn’t have dared to do something like this with a near stranger but your desire to make your ex suffer was bigger than your nerves. Besides Ten appeared to be all in on the ruse; his body twisting and curving in sync with yours, fingers on his right hand sliding up between your breasts to wrap lightly on your throat. His teeth nipped at your earlobe and you gasped. Reached around to his side to clasp his shirt for an anchor. You heard him chuckle and suddenly you were spun away from him only to be reeled back in, this time face to face.

The room felt like it was two hundred degrees. You weren’t exactly wearing much—a slinky black dress with tiny ties at the hem—but even that seemed too much. Without missing a beat though you and Ten continued to grind with one another, his thigh just barely pushed between your own. Every time you swayed forward to meet him the denim of his jeans rubbed deliciously against you, sending sparks sprinting through your veins. Both of his hands were on your ass as if helping to guide you, and as you met his gaze you couldn’t help but bite your lip at what you saw there. Desire, lust, hunger—no one had ever looked at you like that before. Like they could just devour you and still not have enough of you.

It made you feel powerful.

You grinned and wrapped an arm around his neck, fingers giving his hair a little tug. He hissed and lowered his head so that he could mouth at your bare shoulder, hands squeezing your ass so hard it nearly hurt. You weren’t sure when you started to get wet—maybe it was the moment you sat on his lap or he decided to play along with your dumb stunt—but you could tell it now. Your panties were sticking to you, your skin was on fire and it was becoming difficult to think straight. Honestly however you didn’t want to think at all, especially not if it meant not being in Ten’s orbit.

“Ten,” you whispered into the skin under his jaw.

He hummed, the sound vibrating through your body. You plastered your hand to his chest and pulled it down, nails catching on the thin material of his shirt until they were brushing along the zipper on his jeans. You gave him a quick squeeze—he was hard and straining—and he cursed loudly. Between one second and the next he was dragging you down a dimly light hallway, past kissing couples and one guy passed out drunk in the doorway of someone’s room. He swung you both into the first vacant room he came to; a lavish bathroom at the very back of the house. The door was closed with a swift thump and the lock clicked shut.

You licked your lips as he crowded you back into the counter, looking down at you with a tiny smirk. That part of your brain that yammered on about bad decisions was surprisingly quiet, so you figured it was beyond okay to pull him down for a kiss. As with most of the stuff he did, Ten was a damn good kisser. His mouth was soft and warm, his tongue playful and coaxing. He kissed you like he’d been waiting to kiss you for a long time. Until it grew deep and sensual. Until you were both panting with the need for air but neither wanting to let go of the moment.

With a gasp you tilted backwards a bit, your knees suddenly weak. “Fuck me,” you said absently.

“Can I?” Ten asked, chest heaving. “Can I fuck you?”

“God yes,” you replied, already pulling your dress up until it hitched around your waist.

Ten hooked his thumbs onto the band of your pink panties and slid them down your legs, laying them next to the sink. He looked you over with that same eye he used for his art but you could tell he liked what he saw. You grabbed his hand and brought it between your legs, spreading them wider for him. Two of his fingers slipped inside of you without any resistance to find you damp and aching, already so hot for him. He started a lazy rhythm—in and out, in and out—like he was in no hurry at all. Like he wasn’t driving you crazy all the way down to the tips of your toes.

He kept his eyes locked onto yours as he touched you, lips slightly parted like he couldn’t believe this was happening. That rang true for both of you. Never in your wildest dreams did you think you’d ever really be friends with Ten, let alone about to hook up with him. It was like you’d stumbled into some alternate universe.

Bringing his free hand up to your cheek, he smoothed his thumb across your lips, pressing lightly until you let him in. You sucked his thumb into your mouth and gave it a little nip, smiling when he smirked. When he deemed it wet enough, he pressed it to your clit and you moaned, your hips stuttering upward with a will of their own. He began a firm massage, working your clit this way and that, fingers still thrusting in their maddening motion. Of course he’d be great with his hands. Of course he’d be able to play your body like a finely tuned instrument.

Pressure started to build low in your stomach. “I—I’m…”

“Turn around.” Ten took a step back and made a show of sucking his fingers into his mouth, tongue darting out to lick between them like he wanted to savor every drop.

You whimpered but did as he requested, your eyes finding his in the wide silver mirror. You watched as he unzipped his pants and pushed them along with his dark colored briefs down to the floor. You hadn’t seen him pull out a condom but he had one; ripping open the packaging with his perfectly straight teeth before rolling it onto his hard cock. It was a delicious looking thing you had to admit, long and thick with a slight curve. If you’d had the time you would have gladly went to your knees for him.

A low breath shuddered out of Ten’s lungs as he pushed inside of you, his hands gripping your waist so strongly you were bound to have a few bruises later. “Fuck, you’re tight.”

It had been a while since Adam and nobody after him until now.

When he assumed you’d adjusted to the size of him, he pulled nearly out before driving back inside of you. You moaned and pushed back to meet his thrusts, feeling the pleasure shattering through you. Your breasts bounced as he moved and he reached a hand forward, tugging down the top of your dress so that he could cup one. He rolled your nipple between his fingers and pinched, bending over you so that he could bite down onto the tender skin of your shoulder. The motion sent him even deeper and you both groaned at the feeling.

“Te—Ten,” you stammered, losing your train of thought when he rolled his hips liked he did on the dance floor. “Oh fuck! Fuck!”

The picture you made in the mirror was a very erotic one; you could see every single expression on Ten’s handsome face. The utter enjoyment he was obviously finding in fucking you was written all over it; there was nowhere for it to hide. His head was tipped back, eyes fluttering closed only to pop back open so that he could watch himself shove into you over and over again. He had you up on your tip toes, nose just an inch from the mirror itself. He was always sexy but tonight that word took on a whole new meaning.

All you could do was try to give as good as you got.

You slapped a hand onto the sink to steady yourself and clenched around him, reveling in the low whine that escaped his throat. It kinda sounded like your name.

And then he was pulling all the way out, dick bouncing as he stumbled backwards. You blinked in confusion. “Wh--what’s wrong?”

Ten ran his fingers through his hair. “C’mon. I want you to ride me.”

He sat down on the closed toilet seat lid and you straddled him without a second thought, sinking down onto his dick with a full body shudder. With your dress around your waist and your breasts jiggling in his face as you bounced up and down on his cock, he traced his tongue around your nipple before lightly biting down. You tangled your fingers in his hair and panted out his name, letting out a squeak when his palm connected with your ass for a hard slap. Planting his feet on the floor, he leaned you backwards a bit as he drove into you repeatedly, eyes watching how well your pussy took him.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured against your collarbone. “Gorgeous—you feel so good.” He bit you again, this time on the side of your neck. “So good.”

With one hand on his shoulder to brace yourself, you rose up and let yourself come down hard over and over again, feeling him pound so deep it was almost criminal. Had the music not been so loud you knew exactly what you would have heard; the sound of skin hitting skin as Ten fucked you like he owned you. Just for tonight, maybe he did.

You weren’t sure how long it went on but when you came it still managed to take you by surprise. Your body lit up like a Christmas tree from the inside out and you cried out Ten’s name, clenching around him, your nails digging into his shoulder blades. He muttered a drawn out fuuuuck and pinched your clit with this thumb and forefinger, making you jerk so hard you nearly tumbled off his lap.

“Ah! Ten!” You shouted as he kept it up. “I—no—oh god—”

Your pussy tightened around him again and he shivered, thrusts growing erratic as he came with a grunt. You trembled through a second orgasm almost in disbelief—usually the only thing that could get you off twice in a row was hidden under your bed in a shoe box.

Seconds later you flopped against him, attempting to catch your breath. He was still rolling his hips just a tiny bit, making all the too sensitive areas ping.

“Whoa,” he said breathlessly, wrapping both arms around your waist. “That was…”

You chuckled softly. “Yeah…” Chancing a look at him, you admired the way strands of his dark hair stuck to his sweaty forehead. He was glistening, shirt sticking to his chest. He smelled like hints of your perfume and you smelled like hints of his cologne. It was all so intimate.

Reluctantly you sat back and gazed at him, wondering if things were about to get awkward. But Ten just smiled and ducked his head a little, a barely there blush creeping up into his already flushed cheeks. It was so adorable you couldn’t have resisted kissing him if you tried. From the way he melted into you, he’d had the same idea.

After a few minutes of just enjoying the feel of his lips against yours, you forced yourself up off of him. Your legs shook; you had to grab the counter to keep from tripping in your heels. You could already tell you’d still feel him tomorrow and the thought made you kinda dizzy, but in a good way. Blinking at your reflection—your hair was a dark mess—you knew there was no way you’d be able to hide the love bites that adorned your skin. They stood out stark red and purple like a bruise.

Ten remained slouched on the toilet for a couple of moments before removing the condom and tossing it into the trash. He dabbed at his dick with a handful of toilet paper, and then pulled up his underwear and jeans. “So…can I ask you something?”

You fixed your dress. “Sure.”

“Who was that guy?” he inquired with a grin. “The one you obviously wanted to get away from.”

Oh shit you’d forgotten all about Adam! “Oh he—he’s my dumb ex. He jumped stupid at me and I—I wanted to show him that he’s an idiot. That I’m totally over him. I—I’m sorry for getting you involved.”

He laughed as he patted down his hair. “No complaints from my end. I think he got the message though.” Reaching behind you he handed you your panties. “Don’t wanna forget these.”

It was ridiculous to be embarrassed considering what you’d both just done, but you couldn’t help it. You took them from him and pulled them on, keeping your eyes on the ground. “Thanks… Look Ten—”

“I’m hungry,” he said interrupting you. “Have you ever had grilled dried pollack?”

“Um yeah once I think,” you replied uncertainly. “It was pretty tasty.”

Ten motioned behind him. “I know a place that makes it if you wanted to go. And…maybe afterwards we could just hang out. Talk.”

That sounded amazing. “I’d love to. But…”

He picked up on your meaning. “Y/N I sit next to you in all of our art classes. I make conversation with you for no reason. Do you really think I of all people forget my brushes? Honestly I’ve wanted to ask you out for a while but you’ve always seemed…disinterested.”

You were dumbstruck by his admission. “Me?! That’s just my face! You’re the unattainable ingénue or whatever!”

Ten chuckled, folding his arms across his chest. “Oh please the only thing standing between me and being a serious cat dad is having an apartment that allows animals. However, this conversation is pointless. You owe me and I’m collecting…if that’s okay?”

You huffed but couldn’t stop grinning. “It’s perfect.”

The walk from the bathroom to the living room had everyone staring with a few people letting out loud whistles. Adam had disappeared but Amy was there to give you a big thumbs up. You promised to call her later and then let Ten pull you outside into the warm night air, your fingers happily entwined with his.

[kindahoping4forever]

Handprints // Ashton Irwin

I’m not in the habit of taking requests/fic suggestions but when an anon sent me a Tiktok and said they needed to read about this scenario and Ashton... I couldn’t resist. 🤡 (And of course I’m me so I had to embellish it into a story and somehow it still ended up 3k smh) As always, my eternal love and thanks to @cal-puddies​ for listening to me talk even the simplest fic to death and just generally being my favorite person.

Warnings: Protected sex in an unestablished relationship, male and female oral sex, playfully rough sex featuring dirty talk and brief spanking

Word Count: 3510

Masterlist // Ko-Fi and New 2021 Taglist linked above

Let  me  know  what  you  think!

You’ve never considered yourself a morning person so it’s nothing short of a miracle that you wake up early. You roll over, stopping just short of the center of the bed, your body registering your unfamiliar surroundings before your mind does. You open your eyes to see a head full of long curls, a tattooed neck and a deliciously freckled back. Right.

You smile to yourself as your tired brain begins to replay the events of the night before. It was your last night in town and you took yourself to a fancy hotel bar to unwind. You’d worked hard all week fielding meetings with your bosses’ bosses but you’d finally landed the promotion; the better pay, the freedom to do the type of work you enjoy - these were all things you’d been aiming for and you couldn’t be happier. It’ll be worth the trouble of having to move out to LA.

Especially now, you think to yourself, looking at the sleeping figure next to you before shaking your head, trying to erase those kinds of thoughts from your mind. You’re getting ahead of yourself. You and Ashton had instantly hit it off, amused at being the only two lone patrons, attempting to people-watch without making it obvious - you trying to distract from how awkward you felt being alone and him nonchalantly jotting notes in his phone, a musician looking for inspiration.

You easily could’ve stayed talking to him all night, listening to his stories about the promo tour he and his band were on, him asking questions (and actually being interested in the answers) about your new job and impending move... but when the invitation to “continue the conversation” in his room led to more than just talking… you can’t say you weren’t hoping for that outcome.

You gently ease yourself out of bed, a few slight aches reminding you what a good time you had last night. You pull your phone out of your purse and check your messages. Damn. The meeting to officially sign off on the new position has been pushed up from an early dinner to a late brunch.

You locate your clothes as quietly as you can and slip into the bathroom; you’re staying across town and won’t have time to make it there and back before your appointment so you do as much damage control as you can, utilizing the swanky hotel’s generous supply of amenities.

You decide your top could use a steam and head back out to the suite in your bra and skirt, hoping to track down an iron but instead you freeze at the sight of Ashton awake, lounging in bed, sheets resting distractingly low around his waist. “Thought you’d skipped out on me,” he smirks, muscular arms flexing as he stretches, drawing your attention to the star on his right bicep that you fell asleep tracing.

You feel yourself fighting every muscle in your body to keep from crawling in bed with him, instead retrieving your makeup bag from your purse. “Of course not,” you chuckle, setting up by the mirror across from the bed. “I did just find out I have to be somewhere though.”

“Oh,” he says, surprised. Disappointed, even? You sneak a peek at him in the mirror, groaning under your breath as the sheets fall away to reveal a quick glimpse of his thick cock heavy between his legs before he pulls on a pair of shorts and walks over to you. “I was looking forward to buying you breakfast,” he admits, settling his face on your shoulder as he wraps his arms around your waist, grinning at you in the mirror.

You smile back, spinning around in his grasp and sighing as he pulls you in for a long, sensuous kiss that has you reconsidering how badly you want this promotion. “I wish I could stay,” you share, running your hand over his beard, wondering if it’s his usual style or just for the ease of being on tour. “But I have to sign before my flight so they can start fast-tracking my transfer to the LA office.” You turn back to the mirror, beginning to liberally pat powder from your compact on your face, trying to compensate for your lack of sleep.

“Fast-track… that sounds promising,” Ash comments, standing behind you again, this time pecking lightly over your bare shoulders. “How soon do you think I might see you out there?”

“Probably be there before you,” you explain, recalling the crazy schedule he shared with you. “They want me to start ASAP so they’re putting me up in a hotel until I can find a place.”

“Mmm,” is his muffled acknowledgment as his kisses travel to your neck. “Wonder if it’ll be as nice as this one.”

“Guess you’ll have to visit and find out,” you boldly tease, breath catching as his touch begins to wander down your body.

He presses into you, hands cupping your breasts over your bra and you watch as a slow smirk spreads across his face when he feels your nipples hard against the thin lace, eagerly anticipating his attention.

“I’ll have to… clearly I can’t leave you alone for too long,” he rasps, morning voice made even deeper by desire. You close your eyes and lean back against him, allowing yourself the momentary distraction. “How much time we got, baby? ...Time for a proper goodbye?”

“Some… some time… not a lot.” Your breath grows heavier as his mouth works over your neck and his fingers tease your hard buds through your bra.

You’re surprised to feel Ash pull back from you but honestly your brain is mush from everything that’s happened this week so you don’t even take the time to question it, instead you just move closer to the mirror to try making your hair look less morning after-y.

Seconds later you feel his lips again, this time leaving a trail of kisses down your back, kneeling to peck around your waistband while his fingers nimbly unzip you; he tugs your skirt down and you don’t even give a second thought to stepping out of the material once it’s pooled around your ankles. His thumbs hook inside your panties and they quickly join your skirt on the floor.

You bite your lip, waiting for his next move but Ashton redirects you, insisting, “Uh-uh, baby, you gotta keep getting ready. Can’t have you being late.” He sits back on his heels, gently rubbing up and down your legs, patiently waiting for you to resume your task.

You give him a curious look but do as he suggests. As soon as he can tell your attention has shifted, his hands start travelling higher and higher until his fingers brush along your folds; you hear him exhale as he realizes how wet you are just from all the touching and flirting.

“Guess I should tell you I’ve been thinking about a proper goodbye since I woke up next to you,” you admit, allowing him to widen your stance, shuddering as his thumb grazes over your clit. He hasn’t applied any pressure yet but you can’t believe how much the brief contact has you buzzing, how dazed your reflection already looks.

“Funny, we could’ve started on that sooner if I hadn’t woken up alone,” he jokes, nibbling along your leg.

You giggle, appreciating his wisecrack and the feeling of his scruff tickling your skin. “Trust me, if I had it my way, your wake-up call would’ve been very different.”

Ash laughs knowingly, “I’ll bet.” He goes quiet and you’re just about to see what he’s up to when suddenly you feel the scratch of his beard between your thighs. You groan as he licks up and down the length of your pussy, dragging his tongue through your folds, teasing you until he settles on your clit, lazily circling around it.

“Ashton…” You start, quickly deciding to give up on whatever you were trying to say once he sucks your clit between his lips, hands pawing at your ass and thighs, encouraging you to spread further for him. You curse under your breath, your interest in preparing for your meeting fading with every new jolt of electricity his tongue gives to your core.

He pulls back, nipping at your inner thigh. “Still doesn’t seem like you’re ready to walk out the door, baby, the clock is ticking,” he chides with faux concern. You feel him grin as he flicks his tongue over you. “Anything I can do to assist?”

You laugh at his audacity. “Oh I’ve definitely got a few ideas.”

He continues to work and you moan quietly, hips rolling over Ashton’s face without you even realizing. He lets you do your thing for a few moments and then he’s gone again before you feel two large fingers slipping inside you. You moan, this time much louder than you mean to. He curls his long digits just right and it causes you to lurch forward, bracing yourself on the mirror in front of you.

You open your eyes and take in the version of yourself staring back at you: pupils blown, lips swollen from sucking them between your teeth, a light sheen of sweat on your face as you get more and more worked up. The hand between your legs makes another expert move against your pussy and you watch your eyes roll back and your jaw drop.

“Jesus, that’s so good... fuck me,” you mumble, head dropping.

“Is that a comment or a request?” Ash quips, loudly sucking his fingers clean.

You turn around, an intoxicating surge of power and confidence flowing through you as you look down at him on the floor, hunger in his eyes, palming himself through his shorts as he gazes up at you.

“That felt so good, Ash,” you murmur, brushing his long curls off his face. “But if I’m gonna risk being late, I think we should make it worth my while and get me on your cock.” You stare into his eyes, matching his desirous energy, hand rubbing over his beard, gently wiping at the glisten of your arousal on his lips.

He stands up and suddenly you’re reminded of just how big and broad he is and you feel an immediate need to have him surrounding you; he pulls you into a heated kiss and neither of you can help but grind, grope and grab at each other. He discards your bra and sucks your tits into his mouth, tongue circling at your nipples over and over. When he comes up for air, your hand dips into his shorts, moaning at the feeling of his cock hard and leaking in your hold. You’re only able to get a few strokes in before he’s nudging your hand aside so he can pull his shorts down.

You subconsciously lick your lips as his cock eagerly springs from the material and Ashton has to laugh. “I can tell what you’re thinking but remember we’re trying to be quick here,” he teases, taking your wrist and spinning you back to your spread stance against the mirror.

You watch his reflection as he pumps at his cock while he grabs a metallic packet from the nightstand, hissing as his fingers drag over the head before he rolls the condom on. “I dunno, right now I’m about ready to straight up quit my job if it means I don’t have to wait until LA to have you in my throat again,” you say, heart pounding as he positions himself behind you.

Ash grins at you in the mirror, rutting against your ass before guiding his cock to your wetness, teasing a bit before pushing inside. “That was a highlight from last night, wasn’t it? Took me so well… any way I asked… so good, baby,” he huffs, hips setting a steady pace.

“Did plenty of asking myself if I’m not mistaken,” you reply, whining as he gives your hair a slight yank, pulling you back into a sloppy kiss.

“That’s true,” he laughs, groaning as you start moving back against him. His hands, big enough to each cover one of your cheeks, massage and pinch at your ass and you shudder when you see how enthralled he looks as he watches his cock move in and out of your pussy as you work against him.

He pinches your ass a little sharper than before and you let out a loud moan, earning a smirk and a low “shh” from him. “Think I need to ask for somethin’ like I did last night,'' you pant, wiggling your ass a bit. “Will you?”

“I was wondering,” Ashton admits, giving your ass a smack so loud it nearly drowns out the whimper it draws from you. “Good, baby?”

“More,” you choke out. He delivers a pair of flat-palm strikes to each of your cheeks, the both of you audibly reacting to how it makes you throb around him. “Fuck, Ash, yessss… So. Fucking. Good.” You try to keep your voice down, given the early hour but his cock is hitting every single spot you need and well so you’re not sure how successful you’re being.

Two more smacks to your ass and you’re leaning in to the mirror, turning to bury your face in your own bicep in an attempt to muffle your cries. Ash brushes his fingers over your hair before roughly tugging you back again, growling, “Nah, I wanna hear you, baby. Lemme know how much you’re gonna miss this cock filling you up.”

His hands come up to grab your tits, fitting over each one and squeezing tight, using the leverage to bounce you on his cock. A series of low whines pour from your throat and you hope he understands they mean that you can’t get enough of how he’s making you feel, how you’re so glad you went to that bar last night, how you can’t believe how well he can read your body despite only knowing you for 12 hours. You hope he knows because he’s fucking you so thoroughly these sounds are the best you can do.

Your breathing has become more pronounced and your fingers splayed on the mirror now appear to be clawing against the glass; Ashton notices and lets his fingers roll over your nipples before running one of his hands down your body to your clit. “Feelin’ good, baby?” He softly asks, slowing his thrusts to an almost agonizing rate as he rubs you. You nod, whimpering his name as he adds more pressure. “Tell me what you need, want you to feel so good when you cum for me.”

“Holy fuck,” you sob, throwing your head back. His fingers work your clit while the new pace of his hips is driving you absolutely mad, moving so slowly and deliberately, you can feel every inch of his cock deliciously dragging against your sensitive walls. “That. Keep doing that. Oh my god.”

He follows your direction, touching you and methodically fucking you. He leans in to kiss along your ear and when he gently bites down, that’s it for you. You gasp his name in measured huffs as you pulse around his cock; somehow you manage to pry one of your hands off of the mirror and you grab behind you, pawing at his shoulder, his arm, anything you can reach.

Ash puts his free hand on the back of yours against the mirror, interlacing your fingers and rubbing over your skin with his thumb as you tighten around him. “Oh baby, yes, that’s a good girl… feel so good cumming around me,” he praises you, voice straining, clearly trying to keep it together himself.

“Ash,” you whine, grinding against him, riding out the last waves of your orgasm. You look at him in the mirror, with pleading eyes. “Please…”

Somehow he knows what that means and he turns your head to slowly kiss you. You moan into his mouth when you feel his hand drop away from your clit, your body starting to settle. You go slack in his arms, leaning against him, closing your eyes and sighing heavily.

“You good?” He checks, amused concern in his voice.

“Oh, so fucking good,” you breathe dreamily. Suddenly a mischievous smile paints your face and you spring up from his chest. “Your turn!”

Ashton chuckles as you drop to your knees and peel the condom off of him, pumping at his cock before eagerly sliding your mouth on him.

“I’d say again you don’t have time for this but I’ll tell you right now this isn’t going to take very long,” he laughs, massaging his fingers through your hair.

You pop off to stroke him. “See? Efficient and exciting, it’s a win/win for everyone,” you grin, a shiver running down your spine as he groans watching you take him down again.

You don’t take as much of him as you did last night, thinking you probably shouldn’t risk showing up to brunch with a hoarse voice. But you bob up and down enthusiastically enough that it’s only a few moments before his grip on your hair is tightening and he’s rushing out your name.

He giggles fondly as he looks down at you sitting on your knees, mouth happily open as you stroke him. “Baby, what are you gonna do about your meeting if this gets all over you?”

You shrug. “Guess you better have good aim then, bro.”

Ashton laughs loudly until you lean in to flick your tongue on the underside of his tip. With a quickly choked out “Shit… baby…”, his cock twitches and cum starts pouring onto your tongue. You open wide, pumping his shaft and humming with pleasure as he continues spurting into your mouth.

When he’s finished, you close your lips around him, suckling at the head a few more times and he lets out a loud growl in response. “Fuckin’ hell, baby, I’m so glad you didn’t listen to me,” he mumbles.

You giggle, buzzing with satisfaction as he helps you back onto your feet. He kisses you passionately and you lose yourself in it a bit, playing with his messy curls, not ready for this to be over. He glances at the mirror as he pulls away from you and he laughs, causing you to turn in curiosity. “Looks like you’re leaving with a couple souvenirs there,” he teases, gesturing towards your reflection where two large red handprints are decorating your backside. In a quieter tone, he offers, “I hope that doesn’t hurt.”

“Well I do,” you respond suggestively, moving closer to examine his literal handiwork. “Hopefully these will have just about faded by the next time I see you… and then we can re-up.”

He groans at your comments and you can tell he’s fighting the urge to pull you in again, knowing you’ve really got to get going. You save him the trouble and kiss him yourself, tugging his bottom lip between your teeth as you separate.

“And look,” you grin, pointing behind you. “You’ve got something to remember me by too.”

Ashton steps closer to the mirror, a naughty smile spreading as he notices your two handprints smudged on the glass. “I should cancel housekeeping for the rest of my stay so I can keep your memory here with me,” he jokes.

He pecks your lips once more and then scoops your clothes up off the floor, smoothing them out as best he can before passing them to you. “Think you’ll make it on time? I can call your boss and pretend to be your bumbling driver who’s unfamiliar with the area.”

You snort, picking up your phone to check your route. “Oh.”

“Oh?”

“Oh, the meeting’s been switched to a Zoom. My new boss had to get on an earlier flight so we’re electronically signing when they land,” you say with surprise.

“Oh,” Ash agrees, moving back over to you with interest. “And your flight is…”

You bat your eyelashes at him. “Late.”

“New plan!” He announces, literally sweeping you off your feet and carrying you back to bed. “Nap. Shower. Room service. Obviously we’ll have to say goodbye again.”

“Obviously,” you concur. “Is the order of these events negotiable? I’m pretty hungry and that protein shot I just took down the throat isn’t going to last me very long.”

He cracks up, flopping on the sheets next to you. “Sequence of events is up for discussion, as long as we agree right now that calling the maid service isn’t on the docket. I was serious about keeping those handprints up.”

You nod with mock seriousness. “If we pencil in the shower after food and sleep, I might have the energy to work on a matching set for you on the shower door.”

Ashton strokes his beard, playfully considering your offer. “Might be able to deliver another pair for you as well. I’m thinking the backs of your thighs?”

“Fuck that new job, this is the obviously the best business deal I’ll be making today,” you giggle.

————-

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[palbabor-writes]

Adhesion

Pairing: Dabi/Touya Todoroki x Fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT/18+ only, unbalanced/unhealthy relationships, TA/student dynamics, tw.mild drug use, tw.bribery, tw.recording without consent, tw.dubcon, brat taming, fingering, cucking 

Words: 8,915

You can feel his gaze; can tell he’s watching you from hooded eyelids and you do your best to resist his pull, not wanting to be drawn in by that eerie blue of his eyes. It’s not that you don’t like his eyes; no, if anything, you like them a little too much. They’re a beautiful shade of shifting cerulean and possibly the only positive thing about the man. 

“You sound upset, babe,” he taunts, taking another drag on his silver vape.

“I’ve told you a hundred times, don’t call me that. And me? Upset? You’re a real Sherlock, you know? What fucking gave that away? Oh, maybe the fact that I pay this university good money for these classes and I could actually use some support. But what do I get instead? A lazy TA who can’t be bothered to do anything more than the bare minimum. It’s a goddamn miracle I’m passing, and it’s certainly no thanks to you,” you snarl, twisting back to your work, ignoring the sound of his chair, gliding ever closer.

Notes: i bribed @libiraki and this fic is my part of the bargain. you heard it here folks, full stop, i am trash. 

this story falls under the University AU that i’m working on: Licentia Docendi - the first fic is Practicum & is all about Professor Shigaraki. For Adhesion, Dabi is a TA: Teacher’s Assistant in a college chemistry class. 

my reward for completing this is User 433 by libiraki. go read it, it’s killer & i’m so fucking pleased my nefarious deeds have paid off.     

Adhesion ad·he·sion /ədˈhēZH(ə)n/ noun the molecular force of attraction in the area of contact between two unlike bodies that acts to hold them together

What time did he say this was supposed to start at? There’s no way you’re late. Did he tell you the wrong room number? You paw into your low slung backpack and wiggle out the [Teacher’s Assistant (TA) handout for Organic Chemistry II]. Nope, you’re not in the wrong room, so it looks like he’s the one who’s late. 

Not too surprising, judging from his appearance. 

You’d only caught a glimpse of him that morning. He’d sauntered to the front of class when the professor had finished with the preliminaries of the syllabus and introduced the lanky man with inky black hair and some of the scruffiest clothes you’d ever seen, as nothing other than, DABI. No last name, no other credentials, just a simple, ah, here’s the TA for this class; he’ll give you a handout on meeting times and be sure to follow his lead with the labs. This Dabi fellow hadn’t even grunted out a hello. He’d merely waited, hands tucked firmly into his jacket pockets, and dropped down from the raised platform once the professor finished his brief introduction. 

You tend to avoid the TA sessions. They’re usually just reviews and endless reminders on the readings, and study prep has never been a weak spot for you, but this semester is different. You’re a junior and you’ve got to push through six classes this term if you want to graduate on time. You haven’t slacked off, haven’t taken less than a full course load. No, it’s just bad luck that they only offered organic chemistry during the Fall term this year.

Thanks to the addition of Organic Chemistry, now all of your classes are heavy sciences. Ick. Well, it’s the price you’ll have to pay for your pharmaceutical degree. It’s not that you don’t like the classes. Honestly, they’re fascinating, chock full of information and techniques that you love to dive into. Nah, it’s not the material of the classes themselves, but the course load and labs that’ll be your downfall if you don’t keep pace. 

So, here you are, waiting in an empty room in the library’s basement for the errant TA of organic chemistry to show. You’re a little shocked that no one else has come to this session. Maybe they’ll try for the other times, or they might be under the blissful impression that they can score the ‘A’ with no outside help. Who knows? 

You’re twiddling with your phone and debating leaving when the study hall door opens. His dark hair is the first thing you notice. It gleams in the bright light of the fluorescents, and you’re distracted by the sheen. It’s almost a little too black. 

It’s not that it doesn’t fit him. If anything, it makes the angled features of his face and neck stand out and draws your eyes to his pale patches of skin. They’re patches because his collarbone and lower neckline are wrapped with spiraling whorls of tattoos; they’re everywhere. How had you missed that? Was his jacket zipped up when he stood in front of the class?

“What’s up?” he calls out, tilting his chin at your wide eyes. He pauses beside the table you’re sitting at and regards you frankly. His eyes are half hidden by his fringed mop of hair, but you can see that they’re a vibrant blue. It’s a haunting color, almost otherworldly. You don’t particularly like the coldness that’s reflected at you, so you focus on the rest of his face instead. He’s got a few nostril piercings, three little studs that shine out when he wrinkles his nose at your bewildered expression. 

“You hard of hearing or something?” Dabi scolds, crossing his arms and glaring down at you. You shake your head and loosen your heavy tongue, finally pulling your gaze away from him. 

“I-I’m here for the TA session.”

“No fucking way!” he mocks, a barked laugh escaping his quirked lips. “Alright captain obvious, let’s get you set up so I can go about my day. Sign this and I’ll give you the power point slides for this week.”

He yanks his backpack forward and tosses a few mismatched papers your way. One is so badly crumpled you have to iron it out with your arm, ignoring the slight stick that clings to one side. Ah, it’s a sign-up sheet. But, hang on, isn’t he supposed to poll the class on these meeting times? He can’t just pick the times himself, can he? You’ve never seen that before. What’s going on?

“Hey, aren’t you supposed to ask which time works best for us before you set the schedule?” you question, sliding the paper back to him. 

His long fingers catch the sheet before it can tumble off of the narrow table and he gives you a wolfish smirk. “Ah, you’re gonna be one of those,” he grumbles, pulling back one chair and flopping into it, splaying his long legs out in front of him. 

“Tch, what do you mean by, ‘one of those?’ I’m not some green freshman, I’ve been to TA meetings before. You ask us for the times.”

“Hmph, okay. Let’s put it this way then, you’re here now, right?”

“Yeah. I–”

“So it’s fair for me to assume that you can make this time?”

“I can today, but what if it’s a one-time thing? What if I have another class or a job?”

“Do you?” his voice drops as he lingers on that ultimate word, lacing his fingers together and leaning forward, blue eyes watching you closely. 

“N-no, I don’t personally have any objections to this time. But what if others–”

“Others?” he scoffs. “I’m sorry, do you see anyone else in here? We’ve been talking, what, five minutes? And I was, eh, almost fifteen minutes late? That sound right? Hate to say it, but I think it’s just gonna be me and you babe.” 

“Ew. Don’t call me that! It’s (F/N)(L/N). Gross, who does that? Babe? You don’t even know me,” you sputter, leaning away from his hunched gaze, earning yourself another clipped chuckle. 

“Ooh, so sensitive! Alright, miss. “I’m not a freshman,” if there are no more objections from the peanut gallery, go ahead and sign this so I can conclude this session. Don’t particularly like chatting with you either, since you’re taking years off my life with these pointless questions.”

“Yeah, well, you’re a dick,” you bristle, crossing your arms and glowering down at the crinkled sign-up sheet that Dabi’s pushed back toward you. 

“Damn, we’re already talking about my dick! I usually reserve that kinda thing for the third week, but I’ll let it slide. Now, be a good little girl and sign that paper for me.”

A month in this whole TA arrangement hasn’t gotten any easier. 

Half of the time Dabi doesn’t even show up, opting to text you the notes and study guides, waving you off with some vague excuse, or promise to make it up next time. The days he appears for the session, he’s always late and glumly sits beside you in the vacant study hall, tinkering with his phone and doing his best to avoid any kind of work. 

But today? Today takes the cake. 

He’s got his booted feet on the table and is taking quiet hits on his vape pen, exhaling long breaths of clear steam into the study hall. “Dabi,” you hiss across the room, aghast at his cavalier attitude. “You’re not supposed to smoke in here! Wait. Oh, my god! Is that weed?”

“Shhh, Jesus. Keep your voice down, mom,” Dabi sneers, puffing a wisp of smoke your way. “Why don’t you try focusing on your work, huh? You’ve got twelve more molecules to stabilize and your functional groups are a mess; you don’t have time to worry about me. Come on, chop, chop. I’ve got places to be.”

“Ugh. Places to be. What a load of bullshit. You know what? I wonder what might help me speed things up? Oh! I know! What if you did your job instead of getting stoned out of your mind?”

Dabi swivels around in his rolling chair, lowering his legs from the table and cocking a dark eyebrow at you. He’s foregone his tattered jacket today, and the sleeves of tattoos that lace up the chorded muscles of his arms are on full display. He’s done that on purpose, the bastard; likely noticed that you like to stare at them, your eyes engrossed by the shadings and designs. Not your fault you like some of the artwork. You’re not looking at him, not admiring any kind of twist or pull of his forearms. Not thinking about how nice they look when he wears a low cut shirt, or rolls up his sleeves. Nope, you promise yourself, careful to keep your eyes down and on your notes, it’s not that.  

You can feel his gaze; can tell he’s watching you from hooded eyelids and you do your best to resist his pull, not wanting to be drawn in by that eerie blue of his eyes. It’s not that you don’t like his eyes; no, if anything, you like them a little too much. They’re a beautiful shade of shifting cerulean and possibly the only positive thing about the man. 

“You sound upset, babe,” he taunts, taking another drag on his silver vape.

“I’ve told you a hundred times, don’t call me that. And me? Upset? You’re a real Sherlock, you know? What fucking gave that away? Oh, maybe the fact that I pay this university good money for these classes and I could actually use some support. But what do I get instead? A lazy TA who can’t be bothered to do anything more than the bare minimum. It’s a goddamn miracle I’m passing, and it’s certainly no thanks to you,” you snarl, twisting back to your work, ignoring the sound of his chair, gliding ever closer.

“Such a fucking sour puss. I bet you’d look a lot prettier if you’d wipe that scowl off your face every once in a while. Lemme see what you’ve got,” Dabi snorts, sauntering out of his chair and bending over your work. 

His tattooed arm braces itself beside your shoulder and the exposed skin brushes against you, making you unconsciously scoot awkwardly to one side.

“Don’t get so close,” you chastise, doing your best to ignore the pull of his cologne. It’s got a hint of patchouli and oranges, and it mixes so well with the cloying sweetness of his lingering vape smoke that it makes your head swim.

What’s he doing? This… well, it’s not like him. He never “checks” your answers, he usually just tells you to submit it to his email and he’ll get back to you later, which he never does. You don’t like this. Nope, not one fucking bit.

He takes his time studying your work, one long finger etching its way across your scribblings. His skin is warm; almost too warm. The heat of it against your clothed side makes you shiver and you duck your head at your unbidden reaction, balling your hands into fists and scrunching them against your tense thighs.

When he finally replies, he dips his head close to your ear, keeping his voice low and steady. “Not bad, (L/N). Nice to see you have some capacity for development after all.”

“What the hell does that mean?” you huff, whipping your head to his.

Oh, that’s right; he’s close.

The lazy smirk he gives you stretch his lips over his teeth and his eyes fall to a half mast as he leans closer, ghosting his breath over your face. “It means, you did a good job, babe. I’m impressed.”

You must be gaping at him; there’s no way that you’re not, but you can’t fucking think, not when he’s so close. If he wanted to, he could close that gap and he’d be against you. His lips look nice from here, smooth and pink, and you suddenly have a wild urge to see what he tastes like. Heart pounding, you feel yourself tilting your chin upwards, your lips parted, tongue dancing across the open plushness, dampening them, waiting, hoping that he’ll just…

“Practice your Lewis structures. Some of those compounds look fucking ridiculous,” Dabi replies, pushing himself off of the table and peering down at you, eyes gleaming with poorly concealed mirth. “But, you’re on the right track. Finish this shit up. Gotta go.”

“W-what?” you sputter, trying to quiet your pounding heart and steady yourself, upended by his short-lived…seduction? What exactly was that?

“Already told you, got some place to be. Send me the screenshots, if you wanna’, but I’m prolly’ not gonna look at them until after the weekend. Well, see ya’ around, (L/N).” And, with a last wave, he snatches up his backpack and saunters out the double doors, leaving you alone.

“So what are you thinking? Just go up to the dean’s office and ask to file a report against him?” your boyfriend questions, his voice hazy and distant through the filter of your earbuds. You’d called him a few minutes ago, once you had a good signal and filled him in on, well, most of the details. 

After Dabi left, you’d gathered up your things and paced the floors of the library, debating your next move. He’s not doing his job. That much is a fucking given. You’d even talked with a few of the other students in your class the other day and they all said the same thing: He’s lazy and he can’t be bothered to help. Apparently, you’re the only student who had one on one sessions with him, but the group meetups sound worse. They told you he usually just opened the textbook and asked them to copy down definitions, and those were the days when he showed up for the meetings.   

“Yeah, and today he really outdid himself. The jerk basically… well… he’s not doing his job,” you flounder at the omission of Dabi coming onto you. If you’re honest with yourself, he hadn’t really done much, and you’d been the one who was surging forward, suddenly tempted by his closeness, his scent, and those rippling sets of tattoos and bright blue eyes. No. Stop it. It’s the last straw, you remind yourself, shaking your head and refocusing on the familiar tone of your boyfriend’s voice.

“I’m sick of it. Midterms are coming, and I’m not about to let him hold the fate of my GPA in his stupid hands.”

“Go get em,’ love! You’re totally right, you’ve worked so hard and you shouldn’t have to put up with some middle-aged asshole’s antics. It’s been a crazy week for you, so dinner’s on me tonight. Wherever you wanna’ go, name the place and I’ll make sure we get a smile back on your face!”

That… that’s so like your boyfriend. He’s always so sweet and caring. Always looking out for you, ready to pick you back up and dust you off each time you feel you’ve fallen short. He’s perfect. He’s all you want, all you need… right?

Goddamn it, you think after you hang up your phone and hop on the elevator that will whisk you up to the dean’s offices, you’d almost kissed your TA. Here’s your boyfriend, being the most supportive and loving thing in the entire world and all you can think about is how fucking good Dabi’s cologne had smelt has he leaned over you. Some partner you are. 

The dean’s office is emptier than you expected. There’s a single secretary, who is sitting behind a low desk, twirling a dark lock of hair and skimming over the pages of a magazine. She looks up when you clear your throat and a practiced smile lifts her lips. 

“Hey there! How can I help you?”

“I uh, need to file a complaint against someone in the College of Sciences,” you explain, dropping your heavy backpack from your shoulders and scratching at the back of your head balefully. You’re likely not the first one to file a grievance against the Dabi, so why are you suddenly bothered by the idea? It’s not going to get better. Just remember all the shitty, half-baked sessions he’s made you sit through (Y/N) and get this over with. 

“Oh! I’m sorry to hear that! Let me grab you the registry of TA’s and adjunct professors,” the secretary chirps, pushing her rolling chair across the wooden floors to snatch at a heavy binder on a shelf. 

“I can, um, just tell you his name. If that makes it any easier,” you quietly reply, one foot tapping agitatedly against the other. What is this uneasy feeling that keeps zinging through your mind? It’s going to be an anonymous complaint. It’s not like he’ll ever see it. He likely won’t even know it’s you. Some of the other students had discussed the idea. He could think it’s one of them, not you.  

“No, no,” the secretary replies, sliding the binder across the glass counter of the desk. “It’s no trouble at all! Just search for their name and fill out all the particulars on the university system. Doing our best to reduce waste! Gotta keep that paper trail down! We’ve got a little kiosk outside, close to the elevators. It’ll help you with all the details, just click on the form and it will file it into our online system. The dean’s office closes in fifteen minutes, so be sure to bring the binder back as soon as you’re done!” 

“Uh, ok,” you mumble, hefting the thick book into your hands. “Do you want me to take it with me, or just look it up here?”

“You can take it out there! It’s sorted by department, for ease of use, so it shouldn’t take you long to find them.” 

Great. 

You lug the binder to one of the many empty tables outside the sliding doors of the office. Slipping your backpack into a vacant chair, you flip through the lists and sections. Chemistry, chemistry… ah! Okay, you’re in the right section. Now to find Dabi, should be easy enough.

Yeah, no. There’s no one in here listed as “Dabi.” What the hell is this? Some kind of elaborate scheme? Is he just a random student who’s fronting as a TA? It would explain some of his general disinterest, but he knows more about molecular chemistry than anyone you’ve ever met, and that skill isn’t exactly a common parlor trick. 

Oh? My secret talent? Well, I can tell you about isotopic labeling and the exact timing of the reaction speeds! Wanna hear more? 

No. No one does. Plus, the professor had introduced him to the class on the first day. He knew him and Dabi’s not exactly inconspicuous. There’s gotta be something you’re missing. 

You close the heavy book and make your way back into the office, fingernails tapping out a disjointed pattern against the plastic of the binder. “Hey, um, sorry to bother,” you begin, tilting your head and biting your lip at the secretary’s beaming face.

“No bother! Did you find them? Everything work okay in the system?”

“No. I, uh, couldn’t find their name? He said his name was Dabi, never gave us a last name so, um, that’s all I have to go on,” you explain, placing the binder back on her desk and praying she’ll give you some kind of explanation.

“Ooh! Dabi! Sorry about that, he’s a special case, since he goes by his nickname. He’s under the adjunct section. I believe his last name is Todoroki,” she twists the book toward herself and flips through the pages at an alarming rate, eyes skimming over the names. 

“Here he is! Touya Todoroki! They don’t put nicknames, or preferred names, since it’s an official listing. He’s a brilliant man and one of our brightest junior professors. I know the university is hoping to snap him up this coming semester, get him on track for a tenured position. 

He’s a little unconventional, but he’s a super nice guy and… oh! Wait a minute, you wanted to file a complaint against him, right? I’m so sorry, here I am, running my mouth! You want a pen and paper? So you can jot his university number and info down? Lets me keep the book in here. Four minutes to closing after all, might as well save you the trip back.” She whips out the procured sheet of blank printer paper and a university stamped pen, holding them both toward you, a friendly smile still crinkling her eyes.

“Thanks,” you sigh, a little bewildered by her chatter. From the sound of it, Dabi’s got some university backing and is a ‘nice guy’. Coulda’ fooled you. Doesn’t matter, you think, crossing the t’s of his first and last name; he’s likely just skimming by on the promise of tenure, and the sooner the school knows about his lackadaisical attitude, the better. 

You’re typing in Todoroki, Touya when the secretary closes up the office of the dean, flicking off the lights and waving a goodbye to your tensed expression. A few minutes later, the elevator swallows her up and the only sound that fills the empty space is the clacking of the keys as you finish typing out your complaint. 

Alright. Got most of the minor points out of the way. 

Inattentive to the lessons, frequent absences, missing materials, smoking in the library; you’ll leave out the mention of weed, it’s not like you can claim innocence on that charge yourself and you’re not looking to have the guy arrested, just stripped of his TA status. You could mention the near kiss, but it feels too vague, and it’s not like he made a move on you. No, all that shifting forward rests squarely on your own shoulders. Damn it, stop thinking about that! You’ve got a boyfriend, someone who loves you, who’s going to take you to dinner! Hit complete and get the fuck outta’ here, before someone–

“Whatcha’ doing?”

His voice makes you jump half a foot into the air, your right knee contacting the protruding keyboard of the university kiosk. “Fuck,” you hiss, twisting around and hunching over at the bright spots of pain that flash across your vision as you rub your fingers over the hurt. The soft footfalls of his approach snap you out of your dazed reverie and your head snaps up, eyes widening at the sight of him.

He’s got a loose fitting white shirt on and you can see the coiling of his tattooed muscles under the thin fabric. His chin is lowered and his eyes are distant pinpricks of blue flame in the low lights. Booted feet take a few more steps toward you, but he pauses beside the table that your backpack is sitting on, hands sliding into his dark jeans, waiting for your response. You gulp back your nerves and lift your eyes to his, hoping some of your ire and defiance will shine through. “I’m putting something into the system,” you reply, your voice holding steady as you re-straighten your spine. 

“Can see that,” he counters, head tilting, dark hair falling to one side of his soft jawline. “Why are you doing it up here? This is the College of Science’s dean’s office. Most people don’t come up here to adjust their university login. So let me ask you again, whatcha’ doing, Ms. (L/N)?”

“Filing a complaint,” you snap, fingers curling into tight fists, shoulders rising and fall with your quickening breaths. That’s right, asshole, and it’s a complaint about you. How do you like that? Not much you can do about… about it now…. oh, shit. Fuck.  

You haven’t hit the enter key. 

The fucking e-document is just sitting there, unattended and completely vulnerable. He might not have seen that you haven’t sent it through and if you could just step a few feet to the right, then you can slip one finger against the keypad and hit that all important “enter.” 

You look up at him again, praying he won’t notice you scooting your shoes backwards, doing your best to keep him wholly focused on your face. “What did you expect?” you taunt, eyes narrowed, arms wrapping around your back, fingers unconsciously stretching out, feeling for the lift of the keyboard. “You’ve been shit. Midterms are in a week and half of the class says you’re not showing up for their sessions. Don’t look so shocked. This can’t possibly be your first run in with something like this? No wonder you go by that silly name, Dabi. What’s the matter? Upset that I know your actual name now?”

As you ramble on, his face has dropped all pretense of blank civility and now his entire body is hunching forward, shoulders curving, hands pulling free of his pockets and coiling outward, reaching, palms tilted upward. 

“So much fucking talk (Y/N). Looks to me like you forgot that last step. Don’t think I don’t see what you’re doing,” he begins, a wicked grin twisting across his lips, not quite reaching the glare of his narrowed eyes. “Ah, babe. Why you gotta be this way? Make you a deal, huh? Walk away now and I’ll forget the whole thing. No repercussions, no questions asked. Never even saw you up here, scout’s honor.” 

The keyboard is close; you can hear the hum of the monitor, buzzing as it holds the screen with your complaint against Touya Todoroki steady, waiting for your inspection, for that final command. Dabi is close, his looming form heavy against your wide eyes, but it’s now or never. You’ve got to turn around, got to let the predatory lumber of your ill-appointed TA slip from your mind, you have to do this. It doesn’t matter what kinda promises he’ll make to you. That changes nothing, absolutely nothing. 

Now! Do it now!

You whirl around, hands shaking as they search for the right keystrokes, the right submission link. It feels like minutes have passed, not seconds. Even though you’ve pressed all the buttons and heard the computer chime, a sent message alert into the sudden, reverberating silence, you can’t take your eyes off the burning gleam of the screen. Not until that thank you pops up. 

He’s still behind you. You can hear his boots as they click across the wood. His movements have slowed, but he’s still advancing. It’s too late for you Dabi, you think, watching as the submission page fades to a pleasing orange, the school mascot waving a large “Thanks!” as it dances, close to the bottom of the page. You did it! There’s nothing he can do. Nothing that–

His powerful arm drapes across your stiffened shoulders, his wrist popped beside your face, fingers dangling lazily into the open air. “Ahhh,” he sighs, leaning over you, resting his head beside yours. You half turn your face to see him, aghast that he’s so close again, that he’s touching you, holding you in place with his weight. His muscled side presses against your back, leaning heavily into you as he gives you a rakish smirk. “Well, looks like we get to do this the hard way.”

“What the fuck? The hard way? What does–hey! HEY!” He’s stepped away from you, and that arm that was braced over your shoulders shifts to the back of your neck, ramming your face down into the keyboard, mashing out a random string of commands. Your nose stings from the impact and your eyes wince shut, protecting themselves from the threat of the black letters. 

“Warned you about sending that,” he replies, and you can hear the grin in his voice. He’s stroking a hand down your head, tangling his long fingers in your hair, pulling at the strands until you’re groaning in pain. “Now we have to do this another way. Gotta even the score, don’t we? Need to make sure you’ve got some kinda blemish on your record, too! I know that secretary filled you in on my upcoming tenure. No way she didn’t. She’s a fucking leaky faucet and I know you had to ask her about my name to fill out that complaint. No, no. We gotta fix this, babe.”

His voice has dropped into a terrifying lower octave, his words sharp, barbed, lancing into your mind like a showering of sticks and stones. He fucking sounds like he’s seconds away from losing his goddamn mind. The hand that’s wrapped around your hair is tugging against you in earnest, jerking your neck away from the threat of the keyboard, forcing you to look up at his leering face. The pupils of his eyes are blown, the black eating away at the shine of the blue until there’s almost nothing left. His teeth are bared in a grimace and his cheeks are pinched, making the silver of his piercings stand out against his flushed skin.

You do your best to gasp out another set of questions, but he’s yanking you back, holding you against his broad chest and wrapping those ink sleeved arms around you. They coil over your stomach and across your breasts, digging into the globes and heaving them under his forearms. His lips are tracing over your arched neck, teeth nipping against your bared pulse. 

“You always smell so good, babe. What are you wearing? Hmm?”

“W-what… get off me! You sick fuck! Why are you… ow… damn,” you whimper as he sucks a bruise into your skin, gnawing and pulling until you’re writhing in his arms. You keep attempting to slip away, to shift your feet forward, but that mouth of his won’t let up. Each time you shake yourself free from those quick pants and hums he’s dashing across your neckline, he moves to another spot, or his hands cup and squeeze at your heaving chest and shivering waist, distracting you. 

“Mmm, this is unexpected. Looks like you just might enjoy what’s about to happen,” Dabi teases, licking a wet line under your jaw. “Come on, let’s go somewhere a little more private, shall we?”

You exhale a shuddering breath and remain perfectly still, hoping your feigned submission will lull him. Thankfully, it works. He chuckles and spits something out about being a ‘good girl,’ but when he moves back, his arms unlacing from you, you stumble forward, one heel raised, cracking down over his booted feet with as much force as you can muster. 

Dabi hisses out a string of low curses, his body coiling over itself protectively. You do your best to squirm out of his grasp, but one of his broad hands reaches out for you, snatching at your leg and forcing you back to him. The sudden shift jolts you off your feet and you tumble to the wood, your palms skinning against the uneven surface. 

“Stop it!” you shout, kicking your feet, trying to dislodge his iron grip. 

“Kick me again and I’ll knock you out,” Dabi threatens, lowering himself to your level and jerking you underneath him, trapping you, bracing his knees on either side of your hips. 

“Fuck you,” you screech out, bucking upwards, trying to dislodge his weight.

“That’s the idea,” he croons, long fingers curling under your clenched chin, forcing you to look up at him. “Can’t say I didn’t warn you and stop acting like you don’t want me. You were practically salivating for me this afternoon. I bet you’re already wet. Let’s find out, hmmm?”

His other hand drifts to the clasp of your jeans, flicking past the barrier of your button and dipping his hand into your pants. His touch lingers around the elastic band of your panties, yanking and teasing at the seam as he works your zipper down. Unconsciously, your traitorous hips roll under him and he gives you a sharp grin, blue eyes blazing. “There you go, babe, just relax. Don’t worry, I’ll make it good for you,” he whispers, his voice catching as his touch slips downward, tapping across your curls and snagging against your slippery folds. “Maybe… ahhh… look at that,” he moans, a satisfied grin lifting those tempting lips of his. 

His middle finger brushes between your quivering flesh, gathering droplets of your arousal onto his finger pad. You choke back a staggered breath and your head flops weightlessly against the floor as you arch pitifully into his hand. One of his nails digs into your clit and faint stars pulse over your eyes. “S-stop it,” you stutter, unable to control the shiver that echoes up your spine.

“Tch,” Dabi scorns, adding the pressure of another finger. “Figures,” he continues, his mouth dropping into a pleased smile as you writhe under him. “I thought you liked being difficult. You’re so fucking cute when you’re mad, you know? So what happened to all that vigor, (Y/N)? Not gonna struggle anymore? I’m disappointed, I was hoping you’d keep it up.”

“You’re disgusting,” you snap, your fingers lifting from your side, grabbing the loose collar of his shirt and jerking him to your waiting lips. You can feel the lift of his grin, but he allows the caress, sharp nose digging into your upper cheek. This is wrong. So fucking wrong. But, if you have to endure it, it’s only fair you get a little bit of enjoyment out of this sick power play, so you nip at his lower lip, giving him soft presses and sharper pulls. Dabi, for all of his earlier barbs of prowess, is a bit taken aback by your sudden interest, his hands cupping at the back of your head, urging you on each time you maneuver away from his open-mouthed kisses. 

“You want to fuck me here? Right in front of the elevator?” you question breathlessly, fingers coiling into his dark hair, carding through the rough strands until he’s groaning above you. 

“Nah,” he pants, pulling away from your lips and leaning back. His fingers are still working their way against you, but it’s not enough friction and you wriggle under him, slipping him from your clit. “The fuck are you doing, babe? You gonna try and make a break for it again?” he laughs, pulling his hand from your pants and licking at the faint sweetness that you’ve left for him. 

“Why bother?” you reply, twisting your neck, your head dragging over the grains of the flooring. “You’re just going to catch me. I don’t know my way around this part of the building, so even if I got away, you’d only find me and I don’t really like being tossed around. Not good for me, you know? Why do you care? I thought you said you were gonna fuck me?”

“Oh, I am,” he assures you, one hand snagging under your chin, forcing your eyes to lock onto his. “Just wanted to know what changed.”

“Nothing,” you barb, tugging your chin free and fixing him with a pointed stare. “This whole thing means nothing. I’ve got a boyfriend, and he’s buying me dinner tonight, so, just get through this and I’m free to go, right?”

“A boyfriend,” Dabi muses, knees tightening around your hips. “Should we call him? I’d hate to think how he’d feel about all this. Knowing that his girl is letting her TA take advantage of her this way.” 

“Hmph,” you snort, arms bracing under you, pushing yourself upward, doing your utmost to level this shitty playing field he’s laid out for you. “Like you give a shit.”

“You’re right,” he affirms, hands snatching under your arms and pulling you out from under him. “I couldn’t care less.”

His office is small. 

You keep a sharp eye on the door, watching to see if he locks it. Fingers crossed, he’ll get himself off and that’ll be the end of this. But that tone he’d shifted into, when he’d told you that you’d need to fix this, to erase the complaint, to walk it back, that made your spine tingle and skin prickle. There’s something else, something he’s not telling you, he’s a smart guy, there’s no way it’s this simple. He’s paced behind his desk, fiddling with something in one drawer, his eyes lifting to observe you each time you shift on the couch he’d gestured for you to sit on.

“What are you doing?” you ask, your voice a dull monotone. You don’t care, you remind yourself, hands wrapping around your stomach. No matter how good he looks, or how skilled his fingers are, you don’t care (Y/N) and it’s pathetic that you have to keep reminding yourself of that.

“Just making sure everything is ready,” he answers, eyes flicking over you. “Take off your pants and shirt, but leave your bra and panties on.”

“Huh?” you question, shoulders tensing as you glare up at him. “Why?”

“Does it matter?” he responds, closing his desk drawer and stepping back to you, kicking his boots and socks off as he gets closer.

“I-I guess not, but I don’t understand why you–”

“Don’t worry, I’ll explain it all when I’m finished,” he reassures you, kneeling on the floor and propping an elbow against his tattered couch. “You can make a show of taking your clothes off, I won’t mind.” 

“You’re revolting,” you snarl, curling your fingers over the hem of your shirt, pulling the fabric up. 

“Mmm,” Dabi agrees, one palm rising to run over your exposed skin. “Whatever you say.” 

“Ugh,” you grunt, popping your hips up and yanking your jeans down your long legs, not wanting to give him too much of a viewing as you pull them along your calves and onto the floor.

“Cute,” he murmurs, one finger racing along the lace of your panties, curving around your hip and onto the soft skin of your ass. “Oooh, did you wear these just for me?” he asks, cupping a broad hand under your soft skin and tugging it into his palm. “Love a girl in a thong,” he murmurs, fingers pressing and lifting into the plush flesh.

��Stop it,” you groan, lifting your hips up, depriving him of his lecherous grip. “I’d never do anything for you.” 

“Always such a stuck up little thing, let’s see if I can’t change your mind,” Dabi laughs, pushing you back and splaying you against the haggard cushions. His long fingers hook under the band of your thong and steadily work it over the curve of your hips and down the line of your calves. Instinctually, you clamp your thighs together, rubbing against the ache that’s budding between your clenched legs. 

“Come on,” Dabi encourages you, slapping his hand against your round thigh, smoothing his palm over the redness that he’s left behind. “Open up babe, let me see you.” 

“Don’t, ah—” you bite out, leaning away from his ravenous gaze and bracing yourself on your elbows as Dabi leers over the sight you’ve been forced to open for him. He glances up at you for a single moment, the blue of his eyes ensnaring your attention and leaving you gaping against the cushions. Seconds later, he’s diving between your spread thighs, his curious tongue lapping over the exposed folds of your cunt.

He slows his licks as he passes by your clit, pausing against the bud before wrapping his lips around the nub, sucking a swift rhythm over you. Your feet rise from the floor to brace against his broad shoulders and you coil your hips upward, urging him on, your head falling into the swath of pillows that rest under your neck. Tense fingers wrench into the cushions and you give a soft gasp, your lips stumbling over his name.

“What was that?” Dabi asks, lifting his head from your curls, lips wet with your slick, his blue eyes watching the contours of your face.

“Fuck you. I-I know… I know you heard me… D-Dabi,” you moan, hissing when he brings a digit against the quivering ring of your entrance. 

“Dabi, huh?” he ponders, letting the edge of his fingernail tease over you. “Don’t know if I like that. I think I’d much rather hear you screaming out my name, my real name.” 

“What?” you question, popping your head up and giving him a blank stare.

“You remember,” he grins, poking out his tongue and dragging it over you, smiling as you buck under his hands. “Come on,” he taunts, sucking at your clit again. “I know you know it. Go on, say it for me.”

“Wha-what’s wrong with Dabi?” you smart, bracing your feet against the couch and forcing him to insert his wavering finger, digging it forward until it hits the second knuckle. 

“Nothing, I just wanna’ hear how the other name sounds. I want to know what it’s like when you’re choking on it, barely able to gasp it out cus’ I’m making you feel so good. Come on, (Y/N), indulge me, huh?” 

“Fine,” you huff, legs trembling as he shoves another finger into you, curling them upward, poking and prodding until you’re squirming. “Keep going. Make me cum all over your mouth, Touya.” 

“Oh, fuck,” Dabi hisses, his teeth catching over your clit. “That sounds real nice, baby.”

His lips seal over you again and he drags another finger into you, stretching you until you feel you’re close to bursting. It’s a low ache he’s working up, but you love the burn. It’s not like your boyfriend can’t do this, but you’ve never worked up the courage to ask. How do you even go about that? Hey, I want you to pin me down and… no. That doesn’t matter, you remind yourself; fingers sinking into Dabi’s black hair, pulling him closer. You just need to get him off and get the hell outta’ here. Don’t think about it. Just relax and get this over with. 

“You need more, don’t you?” Dabi questions, tilting his head and cracking one cerulean eye open, watching as you writhe and cant under his skillful hands. 

“I-I just need…” your voice fails you as he resumes that suction, tugging your engorged clit between his sharp teeth and giving you a few rapid fire nips. “Al-almost, just… keep… oh fuck…” you sigh, thighs tensing around his dark head. His fingers speed up that sinful drag and he wriggles them forward with each push, tapping and stroking over the spongy patch of nerves within your cunt. 

Then, right when you’re breaths away from a mind blowing release, he yanks his fingers from your sopping pussy, laughing as you pant and whine for him. “Ahhh, come on babe,” he sneers. “Why would I reward you when you’ve been such a fucking pain?” 

You openly gape at him, your eyes blinking back dots of frustration and distant flashes of lingering starlight arousal. “What the fuck,” you pant, shifting away from his slicked lips and crossing your legs. “Wh-what what was that for?”

Dabi pushes himself onto his haunches, licking the last traces of you off of his fingers before digging his hand into his jean pocket. He returns with a small remote and waggles it in front of your aghast expression. “Got all I needed,” he informs you, flicking it toward a bookcase. You swiftly whip your head to the shelves and spy the tiny camcorder resting above the topmost set of books. 

“You fucking ASS,” you screech, hands reaching for the dangling remote, not caring that your sopping pussy and half naked breasts are on full display. Dabi hovers the remote above the two of you, cracking that all too familiar grin over his thin lips.

“So, about that complaint,” he taunts, scoffing at your desperation, leaning on his heels to watch you scramble up from the frayed pillows of his couch. 

“Y-you, why… I… give me that! You can’t record me without my permission!”

“Awe, babe,” Dabi barks, his laugh echoing around the small space. “Too bad for you, huh? I don’t need two party consent.”

“That’s for phone calls,” you bite out, finally snagging his wrist, yanking him toward you. 

“Who said the video was on?” 

“You fucking jackass! That’s why you wanted me to say your name!”

“Calm down, I won’t release it if you walk back the complaint,” Dabi counters, letting you pull him closer, his lips teasingly reaching for yours. You dodge his touch and fix him with a pointed glower, nose wrinkling and brow furrowing. 

“This sounds like a well oiled routine,” you accuse, dropping your hold on him and crossing your arms over your exposed stomach. 

“Tch, you jealous?” Dabi sneers, cupping both of his hands under your bent elbows, forcing you to lean into his hold. You shake your head at his accusation and grit your teeth, tilting your face away from his seeking touch. 

“What are you going to do about this part? Where I’m yelling about what a son of a bitch you are?”

“Edit it out,” Dabi informs you, lips latching onto the hollow of your throat, teeth worrying your tender skin between their grasp. “Again, if you walk back the accusation, all of this goes away.”

“What if…” you pause, biting your lower lip and shrugging Dabi off of you. He leans away, bright eyes studying your face, pausing at the dip of your lips, following the pink indentations that your teeth leave behind. “What if I wanna’ fuck you?”

“Oh?” Dabi hums, nose flaring, making those three tiny piercings gleam under the low light of the moon that’s streaming through his window. “Now you wanna’ fuck me? You sure about that? Not that I blame you, I’m pretty good, pretty big, too.”

“Ugh, don’t say shit like that,” you reply, lifting a shaking hand to his neck, tracing your fingertips over the indentations of his tattoos.

“Hmm,” he groans, already leaning into your touch, his skin prickling under the gentle strokes of your fingers. “One condition. I get to record it. This time with the video on.”

“Fine,” you confirm, coiling your hands into his inky hair. “Never know, you might want it for later.”

“For what?” Dabi asks, yanking himself away from your intoxicating strokes to jerk his white shirt over his head. You shake your head at his question, not wanting to think about the ramifications of this situation, distracting yourself with the new patterns and whorls of dark ink that are bared to you. He twists back to the camcorder, hitting a few buttons before tossing his remote across the room, the plastic clattering over the wood.

You can just make out the outline of wisps of blue flames beside his ribs when he kicks his pants and boxers down, finally lowering the curtain on the dip of his hipbones, displaying his straining length to your ravenous gaze. He’s covered in piercings. A silver Prince Albert is gleaming at his tip, catching the drips and bubbles of pre-cum that are hovering against his slit. His cock curls proudly toward his stomach when he releases it from the thin protection of his boxers and you catch sight of the Jacob’s ladder that climbs up his impressive girth. Unconsciously, you gulp in a swift breath and shake your head, not wanting to show him your wavering uncertainty. 

He’ll undoubtedly be the biggest cock you’ve ever taken, and you’re not sure that he’s stretched you out properly. He’d paused too soon and you can still feel the shuddering echoes of your faint brush with release travel up your spine as you gape at him. It’s not enough… it’s not…

“What?” Dabi questions, one black brow arched. “Worried I’m too big for you?”

You’re about to respond when he shoves you down and maneuvers you sideways, stretching you along the cushions, his hand a steady pressure against your windpipe, choking out any reservations that threaten to escape your lips. He’s on top of you seconds later, the sheer weight of him pinning you under him, and you let out a whine when he spreads your legs, popping the brittle muscles of your hips in his rush. 

“I’ll make you like it,” he promises, looming over you, his lips tracing up your neck as his hands dig under your back, unfastening your bra and stripping you of your final defense. “You’ve got a nice rack, babe,” Dabi praises, lowering himself, ghosting over your peaked nipples, tongue lapping out to dip over the puffy areola. 

“Stop saying shit like that, I might think you mean it,” you snarl, throat catching on your gasps of strained pleasure. He sucks one stiffened peak between his lips and suckles, hard. The pressure makes your back bow off the cushions, fingers reaching for him, clawing and scratching your way down the muscled plains of his back. 

“Mmm,” Dabi groans, popping his lips free from the distraction of your nipples. “Do that again, but put some effort behind it.” 

Well, why let him down now? You dig your nails into him, yanking until you feel his skin part under you, splitting from the drag of your touch. “Fuck, yes,” he grunts, his hips jerking into you, blindly seeking your entrance. “I’m gonna fuck you,” Dabi warns, teeth biting the hollow of your neck. “I’m gonna fuck you until all you can say is my name.” 

He blindly reaches for your hips, two fingers searching for your cunt. Once he finds it, he grasps the swollen length of his cock, jerking himself a few times, splashing his hot pre-cum against your inner thighs. There’s no warning, no call for preparation, or a quick kiss, instead there’s just the heady press of his hips and the weight of his length as it splits you in two. Your neck arches off of the cushions and your hips fall away, shying from the keening sting that he’s thrusting into you. A low hiss slips from your lips and your toes curl, legs unconsciously wrapping around his thin waist, heels digging into the soft dip of his back. 

“F-fuck,” Dabi chokes out, hands bracing themselves over the swell of your hips. “You’re fucking tight, babe. Goddamn it.”

“Dabi,” you moan, curling upwards, praying he’ll give you a few more seconds, positive you’ll shake yourself to bits if he tries to move now. Your hand finally lifts from his back and makes its way toward the crest of your thighs, desperate to tweak and roll your pulsing clit. Once you’re inches away, one of Dabi’s hands unlatches from your waist and snatches your seeking fingers away. “Don’t you dare,” he warns, lips rising to suck against the lines of your neck. “Only if I tell you,” he continues, warm tongue dipping and licking over your ear. “Understand?”

You nod, still reeling from the steady stretch of his cock as he tugs it out of your sopping cunt. It pricks and bites and your heels do their best to restrict his movements, pinning themselves to his lower back and grinding down. He ignores your hints and starts a steady push and pull within you, the rungs of his piercings catching on the edge of your leaking pussy. Each thrust snags against a piece of you that sends a scattering of sparks and stars over your vision and you coil yourself forward every time he yanks back, anticipating that ignition, that ache, as he braces himself to slip into you again. 

“How the fuck are you still so tight?” he complains, hands jerking your chin upward, demanding that you kiss him. The bittersweet sting of pain is still too close for you to get into his caress, so he soon gives up, finally settling the pad of his calloused thumb over your clit. “Is this what you need?” he asks, hips lancing into yours, picking up the pace of his ruts. You nod as your teeth chatter, a thin slip of drool escaping your parted lips. Dabi grins at your overwrought expression and his tongue laps at the traces of saliva, nose pressing into your skin, his hisses of exhaled air hot against your cheek. 

“You’re getting real tight (Y/N). Wanna cum? You wanna’ cum on my dick?” he asks, his voice shaking with effort, trying to ignore the insistent envelopment of your slick cunt. “Hey, come on, answer me!”

His deep pitch of exasperation snaps you out of your stupor and you fix your hazy attention on him, closing your swollen lips and giving him a cruel smile. “I don’t think you’ve done enough,” you taunt, a laugh bubbling from your throat. “Looks like you’re gonna cum first. Turns out you’re not as impressive as you think, huh, Touya?”

He’d usually ignore you, keep pressing and teasing until you’re putty in his hands, but it feels too good. It’s too much. Your fucking cunt feels like heaven and he can’t help himself, thrusting and pounding into you like he’s fucking fifteen again, all hormones and no finesse. There’s nothing he can do to stop himself, it’s too good, it’s just too fucking good.

With a half-formed groan he spills into you, his cock pulsing and swelling, hands bracing themselves against the swell of your hips, lifting you to him until those dots leave his vision. “Fuck. Fuck, that was… you were… God. That felt so fucking good.” 

You sprawl under him, your eyes languidly meeting his as you crack a sly grin. “Ahhh, Touya, like I said, you were so close. Too bad. Thought you’d last a little longer. Haha! Maybe next time, hmmm?”

Tags: @spicy-skull​, @xwildskullx​, @evesmores​

notes: editing always takes me so long :((((

[fregget-frou]

I have art-block bad right now, so here’s a drawing of punk/alt Ben my freelancer oc! I wasn’t able to draw his full cowboy look but yeah here’s what he looked like ≈3 years before canon started

Sorry not really sorry for info dumping on my favorite listener oc, this is too fun

Also some of his tattoos, he likes snakes there’s more snake tattoos on him

Some little facts about him:

-he lives in California right now, not too far from where I’m guessing Dalila is (I originally thought it would be in Pennsylvania but after looking more into it the weather descriptions and plant visuals I got was just sequoias so eh)

- a little off track for a second, I do think dahlia would be somewhere in California, where’s there’s redwoods and stuff! Makes sense too with weather because it’s pretty hot here and only in the mountains it snows

-anyways, during this time he’s hoping jobs but he’s usually working manual labor like carrying boxes, cashier work, cleaning, working a bar that kind of stuff. Currently in this part of his timeline he’s most likely working at a bar that showcases music bands

-dresses in like exclusively tank tops and low rise jeans, to be fair he looks great in them

-hairs a lot shorter, and he dyes it. Mostly blue and black but one time he dyed it hot pink. He did not like it

- had a lot more piercings but either doesn’t wear them in often or let them close like on his ears. He got lazy lol. He still has his septum piercing and still wears it

-so many tattoos, he’s a dumbass so he’d probably get bog ruins on his body at some point

-the double eye tat was done with Vio (his best friend) and the eyes have each other’s eye colors in them :)

-knew a few magic users, didn’t really know that they were really

-he was kicked out at 19 so he’d been wandering for around 6-7 years before he met Gavin and went to Dahlia

-with all that time he tried to home in on a few magic abilities, with what little he knew how to control, even then magic was a sore spot so he tried to shut it away

-didn’t really work, he grew up a tree one time in a park after a shitty day after work, if he wasn’t so upset he would’ve been impressed lol

-was dating his ex at the time, Demeter who was a fire elemental and the one who told him to go to DAMN in the first place

-he learned how to make little fire people dance tho, and he was really good at just growing things like flowers and moss. So much moss he wasn’t thinking and accidentally covered his wall in moss

-a year before canon he started to change his style a lot, after a bad breakup with Demeter his lost a lot of self confidence

That’s all for now, I do remember a few of y’all wanting to see goth ben and even though he isn’t in emo cowboy attire I tried

[manonblaqkbeak]

Among the Stacks

Back for Day 4-Librarians/Libraries, which I was super thrilled to see on the list, since I’m a certified library assistant and librarian technician and a big advocate for libraries in general and how important they are to society for a number of reasons!!!

This is just some wholesome fluff, most of these fics are (bc thats all i write lol) but i am preparing for a lil angst on the 10th ;)

Hope you all enjoy! :)

cw: none

1.5k words

There were many reasons why Aelin loved being a librarian technician and working at Orynth Public Library (of course there were reasons she very much disliked it, but the positives outweighed the negatives). The ever present scent of books was one, and the fact that she saved a ridiculous amount of money from borrowing books instead of buying them, as purchasing them became close to an addiction. The regular patrons that visited. Helping people with creating resumes and look for jobs because they couldn't afford laptops or computers at home, and looking for jobs on phones was annoying.

The overflowing suggestion box filled with ideas for books and ways to make the library more homely. Her comfortable office chair and her favourite cafe owned by a high school friend right around the corner, and the fact that Nesryn gave her discounts because she had set her up with her now-fiance Sartaq.

The laughter of babies and young children when it was story-time and the drawings that they created. The people that came to the library just to be somewhere else without feeling the pressure of having to spend money. The people that came sorely for the free WiFi and power-boards to charge their phones.

Working with her childhood friend and pseudo-sister Elide. And one very handsome and kind construction worker, Rowan Whitethorn.

Elide said that Aelin was in love with Rowan, with how she gushed over how pretty and intelligent he was, but Aelin denied that. It would be absurd to be in love with him. She just really liked him.

The only problem was she hadn't had the chance to ask him out on a date. She only saw him when he came in the library, and it was inappropriate to ask someone out while at work. There was also the fact that while he came here weekly, she wasn't sure if he was single, because surely someone that handsome had to be with someone.

But he hadn't mentioned any partners and Aelin didn't spot a ring, either on his finger or on a chain around his neck, but it still made Aelin hesitate.

Elide had told Aelin many times that when Rowan was here, he made 'heart eyes' when Aelin's back was turned. Aelin scoffed at the notion, but her heart flipped at that—Elide was freakishly observant and knew how to read people to a minuscule level.

Aelin was in the middle of covering the latest hardbacks, her mind completely focused on the task, when Elide said, typing away, “It's eleven A.M.”

Aelin looked at the large clock behind her and nodded. “That it is.”

A small smile was on Elide's lips, her dark eyes bright. “Just thought I'd let you know. Since a certain someone usually comes in around eleven-fifteen on Saturdays if he hasn't been here during the week.”

Elide could sometimes be as subtle as a brick to the head. Aelin finished the last book and cleaned her hands off with the hand sanitiser. She could feel her friends dark stare at the back of her head.

“I'm aware, thank you,” was all Aelin said.

If Aelin didn't ask Rowan out soon, Elide was going to do it for her—no matter how often Aelin repeated about the inappropriate aspect of it all.

Elide thought that was bullshit.

Telling her friend that she was going to put these books on the 'New Releases' shelf, Aelin once again focused on her task, straightening up other books as she went.

She had just finished up when a deep voice said behind her, “Good morning, Aelin.”

Smiling, she turned. “Good morning, Rowan.” She spotted his current read in his large hands. “How's the book going?”

He returned her smile. “Great. I was wondering if you had the sequel?”

“We should do, just follow me.” They had their usual conversations about their week, with Rowan telling her how a fellow worker had injured himself and how it had turned the whole production upside down. Apparently, his site manager was sweating buckets the entire time, fretting about paperwork more than anything else.

Aelin didn't envy his work at all. While there were chances for Aelin or others to hurt themselves in the library, the worst that had happened to Aelin in all her years here was a bruised foot after dropping a dictionary and the rare scolding she had received from her boss, Glennis, for not wearing the proper footwear. Her bruised foot was nothing compared to the torture of having to watch an hour long video about work health and safety the following morning.

As Aelin found the sequel, they stayed hidden among the stacks, talking about everything and nothing, with Aelin temporarily forgetting that she was at work and had other duties to attend to.

Because it was hard to remember what those duties were when she got lost in his dark green eyes. Especially when they trailed down the tattoo that started at his temple and down his neck, to his fingertips.

Aelin had never really been a fan about facial tattoos, but she really liked his. It suited him.

However, she was abruptly reminded of her job when she heard a young voice call out her name. It was one of her regular patrons, Evangeline, who was always here after school and on Saturdays tackling her homework and assignments. Her foster parents were negligent and didn't think that she needed a laptop to do her school work, since they didn't back in the “old days”, completely unaware that it was the digital age and laptops and computers were vital to get the work done.

Aelin excused herself, finding Evangeline flustered at her favourite spot, the desktop frozen and unaware of what to do. It was hard not to crush the girl into a hug when Aelin saw tears in her eyes, scared that she was going to get into trouble.

“Don't worry,” Aelin told the girl kindly, “it'll be okay. Sometimes computers get grumpy and have temper tantrums but I just know the right way to fix it.”

Unaware that Rowan left the stacks, she missed his soft smile as he watched her work her magic, instructing Evangeline step by step what to do if it happened again.

He made his way to the front desk, where Elide was still furiously typing away, muttering underneath her breath about cataloging.

Deciding that it would best to leave her to it and use the self-serve machine, Elide cleared her throat, catching his attention, and said, “Aelin's single.”

Elide was sick of watching them dance around each other. She understood Aelin's hesitancy, she did, but if she had to watch them flutter their eyes at each other one more time, she was going to lose it.

And Elide was aware that Rowan was aware of why Aelin hadn't asked him out, and that he didn't want to appear inappropriate and ask Aelin out while she was at work. Elide respected for it, truthfully.

So Elide had decided to do it herself, inappropriateness be damned.

Rowan blinked, and blinked again, clearly unsure what to say or do. He came back over to her desk, tattooed hand striking against the plain book cover.

But he recollected himself, and asked, “Does she suffer from hay-fever?”

“No. And once she's done helping Evangeline over there, she'll be going to her favourite cafe for her late morning caffeine fix.”

Rowan nodded, his mind already on what flowers he would buy for her. She had a small Kingsflame tattoo on her wrist and told him it was her favourite flower when he asked her about it weeks ago. “Thank you, Elide.”

Elide simply smiled and reached for his book as Aelin came around, talking to the both of them, when Rowan asked if they knew of any good cafes.

It was good that he was finally taking that step, but Elide had to stop herself from laughing at how completely unsubtle the question was. Elide was already prepared for when Aelin would ask her later what happened between them.

But Aelin smiled and told him of her favourite place and they left together.

X X X X X X

Aelin ordered her usual, a caramel macchiato with two shots, and Rowan ordered a flat white with soy milk (he suffered from lactose intolerance, which Aelin would hate if that was her, because she had once tried lactose free chocolate and it was dreadful).

Rowan pulled out her chair when they sat out front, taking a seat across from her. Her heart flipped at the sweet gesture.

“I was wondering,” he started off with, his eyes staring unflinchingly into hers, “if you'd like to go out on a date sometime?”

Aelin didn't even think twice before accepting and they planned it out right there, exchanging numbers at the end of it. He walked her back to the library, a small smile on both their lips.

From the smile that Elide gave her when she returned, Aelin knew she was involved—and not at all surprised—and at that moment, Aelin was very happy to have a friend like Elide.

And for her date that very night with Rowan.

[vixenpen]

Okay but like..... hawks as a body piercer or tattoo artist

Babyyyy!😩 Hawks with tats and piercings?!!?

That’s TOO much flavor. Like things are getting too spicy for the pepper ma’am.

Tattoo Shop AU (Hawks x GN Reader)

Your friend had recommended this place to you. Fierce Wings Piercing and Tattoo. And since all of f/n’s body work was dope, you trusted their judgement.

What kind of name is Fierce Wings?

You wondered as you checked out the artwork of intricate red wings etched on the glass door.

Ah well. Inside, the shop gave off a cool industrial vibe; with it’s brick walls, exposed pipes in the ceilings, and cool light fixtures.

You marveled at the beautiful pictures of artwork that must have been done on previous clients hanging in various picture frames from the walls.

A rock song you didn’t recognize pumped through the large shop and the front desk sat unoccupied.

The shop seemed to be empty from what you could gather.

“Umm, hello?” You called out, peering around the corner which was sectioned off with a crimson red divider

“Yo, yo!” A deep, lazy voice called back.

The voice, it turned out, was attached to the most beautiful man you had ever seen in your entire life. A man with tousled ash blonde hair emerged from the back. He was a bit shorter than average, body lean and rippling with muscle that looked like it came from actual manual labor rather than a workout routine.

His skin was a tapestry of patterns and designs. A colorful sleeve of Japanese art climbed his left arm, a geisha and an oiran on his right. The beautiful colors popped even more against the black tanktop he wore. He had a small gold hoop in every hole in his ear from the lobe to the cartilage and a barbell in his left brow.

But the real draw were his eyes. They were like nothing you had ever seen on a human being. A sort of liquid amber like a cats or more precisely like a hawk’s...

A slow smile spread across the man’s face. Those beautiful golden eyes ran over you—as if appraising your appearance.

“Hey there, welcome to Fierce Wings. What can I do for ya?”

“I wanted to get some new ink.” You explained.

“Well you came to the right place. Got anything particular in mind?”

“Oh, yeah! Here.” You handed the man your phone.

Hé whistled. “That’s beautiful, kid. That’s gonna be fun, but first things first. If I’m gonna be mutilating your skin for the next several hours, we should probably get acquainted first, huh? My name is Keigo, but everybody knows me as Hawks. How ‘bout yourself?”

“Y/n.” You answered.

“Well, y/n, if you’re ready we can get started. Follow me to the back and let’s get you prepped.”

As you followed Hawks to the back of the shop, you noted that all the stalls were indeed empty.

“I hope I didn’t catch you at closing or something. I saw on your site that you guys take walk-ins.”

You said as Hawks ushered you into a booth in the back.

“Ah, you’re good, kid. Funny story, all of my other artists quit on me except one. My boy, Dabi.”

“Holy shit, really?”

“Yupperdoodles.” Hawks laughed.

“Why?”

“During co-vid, everybody found it more fruitful to go off and do their own things. I can’t even be mad at ‘em. After that shut down and with us not knowing whether or not we’ll have another one or not, everybody’s just searching for job security. So we’ve had to adapt.”

“How has that been?”

“It’s been chill,” Hawks said as he cleansed your skin. “Less people, less drama. Unfortunately that means we’ve had to pull ourselves up by the bootstraps around here, but hey,” he shrugged, “I’m used to it. I go hard in everything I do, ya feel me?”

He winked and you felt your cheeks burn. Was that...an innuendo?

“Well, your work is amazing. My friend, f/n, recommended I come to you all.”

“Ah yeah, I remember f/n.” His face brightened at the name. “They’re good people! Tell ‘em I said: hi and thanks for the referral, when you see them again.”

“Will do.”

You settled back on the chair as Hawks went to work stenciling the design you’d chosen on your skin. His long tongue occasionally ran over his lips as his amber eyes narrowed in concentration.

Holy shit. His tongue is pierced too. Fuck that’s hot.

“You trying to commit my face to memory or sum’n, y/n?” Hawks asked, startling you.

His hooded gaze never left the work he was doing on your skin, but an amused half smile danced on his face.

“N-no, I was just thinking how amazing it is that you only saw that picture once, but you’ve got it down to the detail.”

Hawks chuckled. “That’s my gift at work. I have photographic memory. As soon as I get the information, it’s locked in. Came in handy in flight school.”

“Flight school?”

“Yeah, studied to be a pilot back in the day.” He tapped his index finger against his temple and glanced up at you. “This quick brain of mine made me a beast in the cockpit.”

“Is that how you got the name Hawks?” You asked.

“Cute and smart. A dangerous combination kid.”

You bit your lip, heart fluttering a bit at the compliment.

“Alright, y/n, I’m gonna get started now. How’s that look?”

You admired Hawks’ handy work. It was stunning. Every detail was accounted for.

“Perfect. Ohh it’s gonna be so dope!”

He grinned at you. “Sure is, kiddo.”

In a matter of minutes, the humming of the tattoo gun filled the air as Hawks worked. His handsome face was scrunched in concentration. He was moving quickly, but carefully. Obviously a master at his craft.

“There you go sizing me up again, kid.” Hawks piped up out of nowhere.

You bit your lip once again—caught and embarrassed.

“Like what you see?” He asked. His gaze flicked up at you, lusty and half-hooded, a smirk settled on his face.

Your throat went dry.

“Ye-yeah. Um, the tattoo looks amazing...”

“The tattoo or the tattooer?” He teased.

Fuck it. If he’s gonna tease me to death, I might as well throw it back at him.

“Por que no los dos?” You shot back.

Hawks laughed, surprised. “Both is good, kiddo.”

You smiled in response, glad the flirtatious cutie hadn’t thrown you too far off your game.

“So, Hawks, did you choose the name Fierce Wings because of your time as a pilot?”

“You bet. Fitting for the fiercest former fighter pilot in Japan. It was also my codename.”

“Damn, how many names do you have?”

“Hmm, let’s see, there’s: Keigo, Kei, Takami, Hawks, Fierce Wings, Wings, Big daddy, master, lover boy-“

You laughed, covering your face a bit at Hawks’ antics.

He let out a deep chuckle in response.

“But my favoriiite,” he said, dragging out the word as he tilted his head to look over your tat; “is; Oh God, yesss.”

His tone dripped with silent suggestiveness. Fingers gently brushing your skin as he examined his work thus far.

Your neck and face burned at the implications of his statement.

Hawks looked up at you once more, pierced tongue dragging across his full bottom lip.

And suddenly, neither of you were laughing anymore.

(((Pt.2)))

[rodeoxqueen]

Dante, Vergil, and Nico With A S/O That Loves Art 

MidWayMC Requested: 

hello! I hope you're doing well! your fics make me smile a lot <:

I was wondering if I could get some headcanons about Dante, Vergil, and Nico with an S/O who is really into drawing/painting and art in general? and the S/O would absolutely talk to them about art for hours if they let them? I'm very soft for Vergil especially and I would definitely take him to an art museum as a date aha 👉👈 thank you!!

Dante 

He’s not much of an artist, he’s much more of a theatre kind of guy. But what would a play be without a gorgeously drawn setting? 

If you yourself are an artist, he’ll always ask the age-old question “Can you draw me?”

 As it is Dante, you just might relent your intended fury upon him. That mercy is revoked when he uses your art books to put on his face while he naps, possibly damaging the spines. 

He’s always down to listen to you about art. However, modern art absolutely baffles him.  

“Babe, if I could eat a couple pizzas and frame the boxes, do you think I could be rich like that Andy Warthog guy with the weird cans? I mean, we both have white hair.” 

“Warhol, Dante. His name is Andy Warhol.” 

“Mmkay.” 

When you take him to art museums, it’s a game of who can find a portrait that best resembles the other. He’ll give you his arm to hold while you point out each portrait and its relevance in human history. 

Dante is the bloke who poses like the sculptures and makes you cry laugh in the exhibit. 

After that, he’ll likely whine to get to the food court while you can look at the gift shop. 

He always gets the most garish and eye-straining trinket, leaving it on his desk to be hoarded with the others. 

“Dante, would you mind if I hung up some works of art around Devil May Cry?” 

“Well, you’re the only work of art around here that I can see. But actually though, put them wherever you want. The place could use some sprucing up.” 

Dante’s shop is full of terrifying devil arms but also art pieces picked by you. It’s an eclectic dream and nightmare come true. 

Vergil

He likes poetry, you like art based on poetry. It works. 

Vergil’s a good listener, he’ll be quiet and make “Hmm” noises as you make a point. 

He’ll read some of your books that you recommend so he can be up-to-pace with what you know. 

With your presence, he starts to appreciate art more and delving into artistic meaning. 

Vergil can be a little troublemaker when he wants to be, cutting open portals to any museum you want. Whether it’s too far or too expensive or exclusive, it’s no matter. He’ll do what he can to let you see nice things. 

In his downtime, Vergil prefers slacks and turtlenecks. Dressed casually for your dates, Vergil can get mistaken for a curator or an artist himself by other people. 

William Blake’s art is well-known and he always makes sure to see if any exhibits have any. You buy him the postcards from the gift shop that he keeps in his room. Dante used one as a plate for his pizza and Vergil chose violence. 

He doesn’t get jealous when you stare too long at some male sculptures. No, not at all. Why would he be jealous? 

He is jealous. 

If you’re one to personally partake in making art, Vergil will candidly become your muse. 

There’s an art piece that was a giant canvas of just a shade of blue that was sold for millions of dollars. It’s literally the worst thing you’ve ever seen and you make that known to Vergil. However-

He secretly really likes it. He’ll take it to the grave though. 

Nico

She considers herself an artist and you are an art connoisseur. She finds beauty in design and craftsmanship of arms. 

At the same time, Nico knows a lot about creating weapons and inventing all sorts of badass weapons. The two of you talk about your respective hyperfixations all the time. 

When you and Nico can go on jobs, she’s sure to drive by a local art exhibit to take you. 

You definitely do Bob Ross painting tutorials together in her van. She definitely mistakes paint water for her sweet tea. 

One date involved going to a pottery class where Nico giddily dug her hands through clay to sculpt something. She may or may not have sculpted a d*ck first before actually making something. 

While she drives, you talk to her about art. She can’t really hear you while she’s working on a project. 

Her van’s dashboard is covered in trinkets from the art museums. She also has a Van Gogh ashtray. 

She lets you hang some artworks on the van but her driving is so bad they go flying all over the place. 

“Ma’am you can’t smoke here.” 

“Damn.” Nico sighs as she stubs her cigarette on a sculpture. 

“Nico, no!” 

She gets one art piece you really love tattooed on her body.