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1kook · 4 years ago

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skirt chasers — drabble iv

THIS IS A SKIRT CHASERS DRABBLE - FIND THE OTHERS HERE ! SUMMARY Jungkook was a man. A skirt chaser. He could only withstand so much torture before he broke, and seeing your gorgeous, smooth legs on display after so many weeks of starvation awoke an ancient being inside of him. WARNINGS JK POV!!!, attempted solo masturbation, k*ssing, jk’s extensive knowledge of pornos, grinding, cunnilingus, face sitting, spit kink, light choking, praise kink, self nipple play, a love for boobies, unprotected sex, use of the pull out method, i love u kink, its kinda hinted tht oc has a somnophilia kink? not rlly but tagging just in case -_- RATING m (18+) WC 6.3k this can't even classified as a drabble anymore wtf

NOTES i have had this in my drafts since may 3. it is december 21. everyone point n laugh. anyway i very much love stimbo sc jk and i think he’s very cool so here’s a whopping 6k of the inner mechanisms of his big nerdy, college hottie brain <3

He doesn’t notice you’ve drifted off until he’s three solid paragraphs into his semester-long research paper. “Babe, can you toss me my charger it’s over…”

Jungkook swears he’s gonna take every single one of those stupid skirts and burn them to ashes. They had done their duty well, had given him the girlfriend of his dreams, but now they were just pushing their luck. What was once the epitome of a cute and sweet girlfriend, has now become the bane of Jungkook’s existence. He loathed them, he hated them, he could go twenty million decades without ever seeing them again because the torture they inflicted upon him was borderline inhumane.

Holy fuck, he knew you were gorgeous— hello, he was your boyfriend, thinking you were gorgeous was very high on the list of requirements you searched for in someone of his position —but he’s absolutely positive that you’re probably the sexiest woman he’s ever seen in all his twenty-two years. And Jungkook’s seen a lot of porn. Like, a lot.

He can’t help himself. Before Jungkook knows it, he’s rolling his desk chair over to where you’re sprawled across his bed, skin so soft where it presses against his pillow, lips so plush, and he’s pretty sure there’s a tiny, tiny droplet of drool begging to escape from between your puckered lips. Normally, he’d tease you to hell and back for this, knows how flustered you become when he catches you off guard, but today he lets it slide in favor of focusing on something else about your dozing form.

It’s the soft curve of your hips from where you lay on your side, smooth legs tucked close to you, and that goddamn pleated skirt giving you absolutely no protection from the eyes of the world around you. Luckily, he made sure to lock the door to his room when you came over today. And he’s almost positive Taehyung isn’t home anyway. So there’s no potential roommate to see you here, cuddled against Jungkook’s teddy bear, blue lace panties tucked between your folds.

They were his favorite.

Adorable and soft, and he knows that particular style— the cheeky kind —is your preferred style, because it’s the one he sees almost every time the two of you fuck. Seamless, because you hate when they tug against your skin, and baby blue simply because it was your favorite color. He can’t recall the last time they had been so exposed like this.

God, how many times had this same situation occurred? You dropping by to encourage him to do his homework, before eventually falling asleep and leaving him to his own devices. A lot of times, Jungkook guesses, because each and every time you wake up and nab one of his protein bars from the stash by his bed. Jungkook’s gone through four boxes in the last month.

But how many times had this happened with you in a skirt? Never. This was a rarity.

As the year progressed and yours and Jungkook’s relationship reached new levels of intimacy and adoration, Jungkook is sad to say the skirts had begun appearing less and less. It was winter and, unlike the furnace that was Jungkook’s body, he’s pretty sure you were a cold-blooded reptilian at this point, always leeching off of him for warmth. So since you couldn’t stand the cold, the skirts slowly faded into the background, replaced by Jungkook’s second favorite: the leggings.

He was no complainer, Jungkook respected your decisions! He wasn’t going to pressure you into wearing those cute tiny skirts he loved so much just because it fueled some PornHub-esque fantasy in his brain, especially not as a harsh winter descended upon you and the days became colder. He would not risk a sick girlfriend in the name of a horndog daydream.

But holy mother of pearl, Jungkook was a man. A skirt chaser. He could only withstand so much torture before he broke, and seeing your gorgeous, smooth legs on display after so many weeks of starvation awoke an ancient being inside of him.

Sure he’d seen them every time you guys fucked— duh. But this was not the same. It was different, seeing the tender skin of your inner thigh when he knew you weren’t trying to, your skirt stuck between you and the bed as you shifted about. It was different, knowing he could so easily have you, just flip up the skirt and tug your underwear to the side, not having to worry about fighting your leggings or skinny jeans down your legs. It was different and it was good, so painstakingly good, to have you in the skirt, but the worst part was Jungkook couldn’t even do anything because you were fucking sleeping.

He’d subconsciously pictured you like this for weeks, sprawled out on his sheets in the flimsiest clothing and ready for him to just slide right in, but Jungkook was a good boy—you’d told him as much just last week when he’d paid the bus fare for that ragtag group of teenagers, smiling up at him like he was your entire world. Was he sometimes a little too mean, a little too wild? Yes. But at his core, Jungkook lived for your praise. He couldn’t just stomp on that title you’d so lovingly bestowed upon him, a title he’d worked hard for since!

Furthermore, even if Jungkook wasn��t a good boy, to touch you in your sleep just seemed wrong. You’d mentioned in passing once that you wouldn’t mind as long as it was him (“I’m yours,” you had purred at some party, hand crawling down his abdomen, “your doll, remember?”), but Jungkook couldn’t bring himself to when you were so vulnerable and just… not there. It wouldn’t feel right to use your body when you weren’t awake, and no amount of encouragement from you would change his mind.

So he does what all good boys do and prepares himself for a quick, self-administered handfuck.

Sue him, his girlfriend was hot!

It’d been a little over two weeks since the last time the two of you had fucked, and it was mostly his fault; clinicals and research papers had practically consumed what little free time he had in his schedule. And if Jungkook remembers correctly, he wouldn’t be that lucky this upcoming week either. Something tells him your period was approaching.

Jungkook doesn’t know what type of sorcery you’ve done to him, but in the time you’ve been dating, it’s become increasingly more and more difficult to nut without you. Whether that be fucking you, listening to your voice, or just imagining your pretty face in his head, you held a monopoly over Jungkook’s libido, one that he feared you’d never let go.

He had years stacked on years of browsing PornHub and Brazzers, can recall experiencing some of the craziest orgasms of his life while watching some girl get fucked. All things come to an end. Ever since he started dating you, not even his favorite video could make him hard anymore. Oh, how the great have fallen.

But with your blue panties before him, his cock hardens by the minute, nearly doubles in size when you move about and sigh a heavenly sound. Frankly, he doesn’t feel bad jerking one off to the thought of you. You were his girlfriend! He knows that you know that you’re the main character of all his right-handed adventures, and you’re not going to be mad at him for jerking off to you now. In fact, Jungkook imagines you’d be mad if he’d woken you up just for some frenzied quickie. This way, he’s blowing off some steam and you’re getting an extra ten minutes of napping. Everyone wins.

He’s barely tugged himself out of the confines of his sweats when a soft mumble of his name has his soul leaving his body. “Kook?”

“Baby,” he exhales, immediately tucking himself back into his underwear before moving closer towards you. You roll onto your back, skirt useless as fuck, he thinks, as it sprawls around your waist. “What’s up?” he murmurs, voice gentle, a hand carding through the nape of your neck because that’s how you always wake him up. Jungkook would be a liar to say it wasn’t one of the best feelings in the world.

You say something, but it’s a mess of gibberish and too quiet for him to understand, before turning on your side again and shuffling closer to him. Jungkook smiles, runs the tips of his fingers over your cheek, before moving to caress your back, massaging some feeling back into your muscles. Some more mumbled words, but this time he deciphers them as something along the lines of “c’mere.”

He chuckles, ducking down to kiss your cheek. “Don’t wanna interrupt your nap, baby,” he hums. “Go back to sleep.”

You whine in protest, suddenly catching his hand in yours. “Please,” you sigh, eyes fluttering open, but they’re unfocused as you gaze at him. Jungkook clenches his teeth. Technically he should be working on that twelve page research paper, and even just trying to jerk off right now would have been a huge setback. Crawling into bed with you, where you’re so sinfully laid out for him to take, would completely offset his plans until tomorrow. He had to be a responsible student here.

“I really gotta finish my paper…” he says, trying to let you down as gently as possible, flashing you an apologetic gaze. He thinks he has it in the bag, and your extended silence almost has him rolling back to his desk, when you suddenly snap into action.

“But what about your dick,” you murmur, and Jungkook chokes.

“My what—?” he splutters, voice a little too high.

You say nothing, craning your neck to release a series of cracks, soft huffs leaving your lips. Jungkook’s on edge the whole time, eyes following the movement of your neck, the hypnotizing expanse of skin that bares itself to him. “Saw your hand down your pants,” you say, eyes blinking open, and though they’re droopy with sleep, at least you can hold them open this time.

Jungkook laughs nervously, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck in embarrassment. “You saw that?” A soft hum. He wants to die. “Ah, baby, don’t worry about it. Know you’re tired, so just nap,” he sighs, caressing the back of your head once again, and he thinks he’s finally convinced you so he lets his guard down.

You moan softly, and he’s almost entirely sure it’s one of those waking up types of sounds, the ones you make when you’re stretching around the bed in the morning. “Want your cock.”

Jungkook swears he’ll die, right here, right now.

He groans, lowers his head to rest on the mattress. “Jesus, fuck, baby,” he huffs, has to count to ten to will the stirring of his slowly hardening cock away for the second time that day. “Don’t say stuff like that when you’re half asleep, please.”

You ignore him, the hand that had been wrapped around his wrist tugging him closer. You barely succeed, muscles still so weak, but Jungkook humors you and rolls his chair right beside your head, where he ducks down to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Noooo,” you whine when he draws away too quickly.

A laugh blossoms in his chest, and Jungkook proceeds to rain down a series of kisses on your pretty face before he can stop himself. You melt under his touch, his affection, and Jungkook adores the way your body is so soft and pliant like this, back arching towards him after he places a hand on your waist.

“Come here,” you urge, voice a quiet plea. So soft, so needy.

Jungkook malfunctions for just a second before he’s clambering over you on the bed, manhandling your body until you're both on your sides, facing each other, with you pressed tightly to his chest. Even with your hands brushing up and down his back in the way that sends every nerve in Jungkook’s body tingling, and your leg thrown over his hip, some stupid part of him convinces himself you’re just cold, trying to warm up after walking around campus in that tiny little skirt all day. He cuddles you as best as he can.

And even with his dick twitching in his pants and his caveman instincts yelling at him to thrust up into your inviting core, Jungkook remains as professional as someone in a relationship can be when in bed with their lover. He’s so stuck on his self-control that he almost doesn’t hear the snort you muffle against his neck.

“What are you doing?” you laugh, reaching up to pinch his cheek. Jungkook blinks, eyes wide like a doe caught in headlights. “Are we gonna fuck or what?”

He chokes. He doesn’t even try to muffle his reaction like other times, because the way you’re looking at him and the heel you press against the back of his thigh preoccupies his thoughts instead. Your hands are still tracing along his back, melting him with your dainty touches. “Baby?” you question after he’s been silent too long, distracted by the way you use that hooked leg to tug your bodies closer.

“You… you’re still asleep,” Jungkook says, though it’s definitely a question.

You scoff, a smile curling around your features. “Mm, definitely not asleep,” you tease, and shift to push him onto his back, wiggling on top of him until those baby blue panties are pressed against his quickly hardening member. “Why? Wanted to touch me when I was asleep?” you continue, and Jungkook’s eyes nearly burst out of their sockets.

“No!” he exclaims, hands clutching your hips in alarm. He can tell he surprises you, because your eyes go wide for a brief second. “Never…” he mumbles afterwards, looking away from your imploring gaze. “Only like you when you’re awake.”

You sigh, pressing a sweet kiss to his cheek that makes his heart flood with adoration for you. “You’re a good boy, Jungkook,” you say back, just as quietly. “A blueprint for the perfect man.” Another kiss, this time against the corner of his mouth that makes Jungkook’s hands twitch against your sides.

A soft moan tears itself from his throat, fingers digging into your hips as you slowly roll them against him. The heat emanating from your core seeps past the thin barrier of his sweatpants, makes his cock twitch in his boxers. He knows how it feels inside of you, has your body memorized like the back of his hand. But it’s in moments like these that he finds himself aching for you, desperate to feel the fluttering walls of your pussy, the pitiful whimpers that fall from your kiss swollen lips. And, well. The skirt makes it all too easy.

He places two hands on the backs of your thighs, runs them up until he’s pushing your skirt up over your waist. You pull away from his lips with a sneaky little smile, pointer finger stroking down the side of his face lazily. “Mm?” you tease, leaving a coy little peck against his mouth. “Now you wanna touch?” Jungkook rolls his eyes, snaps his teeth at your wandering finger when you draw it too close to his mouth. The giggle you let out is so damn precious, makes him want to put you in a glass case and never let anyone else touch you. Coincidentally, it also makes him want to rail you into the mattress until you cry.

“I’ll fucking ruin you, doll,” he settles on murmuring, subtly pushing you down against him. A soft giggle. Jungkook knows it’s your favorite nickname, even if you won’t admit it. He's the only one allowed to call you it, something about his intentions being pure or whatever, he’s not really sure. Anyway, you’re still so cute and soft on top of him, blinking slowly and prettily, so he’s dragging it out a bit, hoping you’ll become more alert in a few more minutes.

As sleepy as you may be, you never miss out on a chance to rile him up. “As if, doll,” you retort, his nickname for you rolling off your tongue seamlessly. It sounds heavenly, sparks this weird emotion in him that he never considered before. Him, a doll? No way. But there’s something about the sweet lilt of your voice, the starry-eyed gaze you level him with, that has him throwing all reservations aside. Put him on a shelf and call him Barbie, because he would be anything you wanted him to be.

Anyway, Jungkook’s sappy thoughts last all of two seconds before he’s rolling you over, successfully trapping you beneath his body. “Oh, so scary,” you feign, hands fluttering to clutch at your chest.

He glides his hands down your body, let’s them trail over your hip and down the side of your thigh. “Don’t get sassy with me,” he warns, thumb peeking beneath the hem of your skirt. Jungkook really wants to burn the piece of fabric this time, because after all that time it spent torturing him with its halfhearted attempts at covering you, it chooses now to do it properly.

Hands are thrown around his shoulders, the overwhelming scent of your perfume and body wash tickling his nose when you pull him in for another kiss. “Or what?” you purr, irises swirling with lust. “Gonna use your manly man strength to hold me down?”

He shushes you with a kiss, slow and languid just how you like. Your taste is familiar, feels like coming home, so Jungkook can’t be blamed for getting too carried away. It starts gentle— it always does. But then a tiny mewl gets stuck in your throat, the following moan swallowed by his tongue, and Jungkook nearly loses it. He nips at your bottom lip, waits patiently for you to open up for him, and when you do he wastes no time diving in. Your tongue against his is slick and wet, makes the most lewd sound. Your little sharp intakes of air fill the gaps, shuddery breaths that Jungkook takes as a good sign.

He strikes while the iron is still hot.

It’s amidst your lazy kissing that he secures his hands around your waist, two reassuring squeezes thrown your way before he’s abruptly rolling onto his back again. “Kook!” you squeal, clutching at the front of his shirt. A pouty frown paints your face, sleepy eyes narrowing him with a rather unimpressed look, tainted with the barest hints of confusion.

Jungkook grins, reaching back to yank his pillow out from beneath his head. “On my face,” he commands suddenly, and you snort.

“What?” you ask a little incredulously, leaning back to level him with an even more lost expression. “Since when do we do that?”

Jungkook shrugs. “Since I decided twenty seconds ago,” he answers rather bluntly. You still don’t look too convinced. It’s not a position the two of you have ever tried. You’re a little on the sappy side, always like to look at his face while you fuck, hold his cheeks in your palms, kiss him sweetly. On the one hand, Jungkook totally gets it; he’ll proudly admit that the sight of your orgasming face paired with your fantastic tits have done him many favors these past few months.

However, Jungkook is a lover of head. Giving or receiving, it’s very high on his list of sexual acts and whoever invented oral deserved all the praise in the world. Not only did you look drop dead gorgeous with his cock in your mouth— tears trailing down your cheeks, drool clinging to the corners of your lips —but you also looked absolutely sexy receiving it.

Kinda.

Probably.

Okay, so maybe Jungkook can’t really say, considering he always has a hard time catching a glimpse of your face when he’s down there licking and slurping your clit like a madman. Which is what leads him to this exact moment, an experiment weeks in the making. Jungkook has a theory that needs to be tested. “Please ride the fuck out of my face,” he tries, hoping the polite tone will win you over.

He’s met with an eye roll. Still, you’re kinder than you let on. “Okay,” you give in, and Jungkook will remember your heroism for the rest of his life. “But only because being on top is empowering.” He just barely contains an over-enthusiastic fist pump into the air, settling on a rather modest smile that has you leaning down to kiss him again. You reach for the zipper on the side of your skirt. “Just let me—“

“The skirt stays on,” he says quickly, hand on your wrist to stop you from removing his most favorite article of clothing.

“Baby,” you say, giving him a rather serious look. “It’ll cover your face.”

“It won’t,” he urges, reaching for the buttons on your blouse instead. Jungkook has had one too many encounters with tops like these, and has long since learned not to tear them apart like a crazed psycho. As much as he loves the sound of your buttons scattering across his bedroom floor, he can’t say he’s too fond of the scolding he inevitably gets afterwards. Anyway, the shirt comes off and so does your bra, leaving your tits in his face, tiny skirt on your hips. “Get up here,” he murmurs, ushering you up his body until your knees are pressing into the mattress right above his shoulders.

If it was up to Jungkook, he would have just grabbed your hips and shoved his face against your pussy. Luckily, it’s not, and your common sense shines through just in time. “One sec,” you say, and then finally, finally, the blue panties come off.

And then it’s just Jungkook and your glistening pussy.

“Holy fuck,” he groans, taking the opportunity to wrap his arms around your thighs. You squeak when he pulls you closer, hand instinctively reaching for the front of your skirt to hold away from his face. The view from here is heavenly, just your swollen clit, gorgeous tits, and shy face.

The muscles in your thighs are a little stiff. Or maybe you’re just nervous. Jungkook isn’t sure, all he knows is that it takes one encouraging tug for you to finally sit on his face. He doesn’t even register the surprised gasp that leaves your throat because he’s too busy tasting your pussy from an all new position. And it’s absolutely amazing.

Something about the position, having you carefully poised above him, does something to Jungkook. He likes to think he knows your body inside and out, knows what makes you melt and what makes you scream. He knows just how to lap at your cunt until you’re cumming, and how many fingers it takes for you to really feel it. But it’s like having you in this position changes all of that, rearranges all the tidbits of information Jungkook has spent months collecting.

(Jungkook is a meticulous man; he’s got a near perfect GPA right now that was the direct result of his carefully crafted note-taking techniques. Whether or not he abused the power of his perfectionist learning abilities to master the mechanisms of his girlfriend’s libido was no one's business but his own.)

One kitten lick against your swollen pearl makes you buck forward, clit brushing against his nose. Jungkook can’t remember you ever doing that on the first lick. “O- oh my—,” you cry, all airy and whiny. Your hand is pressed to the wall behind his bed, the other bunching the front of your skirt just above your mound. He’s rather happy to learn that, just as he’d hypothesized, this position does give him a better view of you.

He’s graced with the sight of your face, twisted up in pleasure. It’s the stereotypical eyes squeezed shut, lip caught between your teeth look. But there’s something different about it knowing that he’s gotten this reaction out of you with his mouth alone.

Jungkook quickly repositions you over him, tugging you back until his tongue is lined up with the front of your slit. You’re so warm down here, make him feel like he’s drowning with your heady scent alone. Tentatively, he lets his tongue dip between your folds, the very tip nudging your swollen clit. A moan tears itself from your throat, the hand that had been flush against the wall suddenly jumping forward to bury itself in his hair. “Oh- oh, fuck,” you shiver, hips jolting forward once more.

You taste good on his tongue, the arousal that coats your lips is sticky and sweet. When he laps his tongue along your folds, quivering hole to stiffened bud, you let out a sob that resonates deeply within Jungkook. And also Jungkook’s cock, which stirs beneath his trousers in excitement. What was once the focus of his mission, a quick handfuck to sedate himself before finishing his research paper, has long since been forgotten. It’s for the greater good, he tells himself, blinking up at you from between your thighs.

Eye contact lasts for exactly three seconds before you’re looking away bashfully, the fist clutching at your skirt trembling against your tummy. You’re so fucking pretty, Jungkook’s heart can’t take it.

And so he sets out on a mission to make you cum as soon as possible, abandoning his slow kitten licks in favor of suctioning his lips around your clit. “Kook,” you wail, tugging at his hair. Whether you do it purposely or not, Jungkook is a little shocked by how good the pain feels. It’s not an emotion he can ponder long, because then you’re using that same grip in his hair to tilt his head backwards, jerkily moving over him.

It’s rough and sudden, the buck against his face, but Jungkook loves it. The drag of your pussy against his lips, the wet glide of your juices smearing across his chin and Cupid’s bow. It all feels so good, and the fact Jungkook is getting a front row seat to the absolutely torn look on your face is just the cherry on top.

Jungkook has seen you make a lot of faces. He’s seen you shiver and drool as he nails you into your bed. He’s seen you sniffle and sob as he slowly fucks you in a rose petal filled bubble bath (a six month anniversary special planned by yours truly). He’s even seen your mirrored reflection fall apart as you bounced away on his lap in front of a mirror.

He’s never seen you like this before.

Needy and desperate, moaning his name softly, practically humping his face in your greed. Tiny skirt clutched against your waist, tits bouncing as you hurriedly grind against him. He has half the mind to burn this scene into his eyelids for the rest of his life.

He’s given up on doing anything with his tongue, simply sticking it out for you to do as you wish. Normally, he’s not a huge fan of letting you do things yourself. After all, Jungkook was your boyfriend. Making you cum was his job. But you’re moving so fast, so frantic, in your mission to cum. So Jungkook sits back and lets you go to town on his mouth as a series of moans spill from your lips.

And then something unforgivable happens.

Jungkook will admit it: he’s staring at you almost a little too dreamily, heart eyes and all. He thinks you’re fucking hot, taste like heaven and have these absolutely delicious boobs bouncing up and down. He’s a little distracted by your glorious figure that he doesn’t notice one crucial bit of information.

Your hand.

The desperate need to cum has your muscles weakening, thighs moving at a latent pace, and, much to Jungkook’s horror, hands trembling. It’s your own pleasure that lets the unimaginable happen: your skirt flutters down. Your grip on it loosens and before Jungkook knows it, the sight of your pretty face and nice tits are gone, snatched away before his very eyes. Even your wet cunt is impossible to see, his world suddenly shrouded in darkness.

Leave it to Jungkook to foil his own horny plan with, well, his horniness. If only he wasn’t so hopelessly in love with the image of you in skirts. Maybe then he could bask in the beauty that was you riding his face.

He acts fast, reaching for the material before he can miss out on anything. But the angle is weird, and without Jungkook’s hands holding your hips, you’re left weakly rolling forward instead. And he’s not the only one frustrated with this turn of events, your face quickly returning to its normal composed form as you level him with a frown. “Everything okay?” you pant.

Everything was not okay, but Jungkook isn’t sure how to tell you that without ruining this delicate moment. So he tries to show you with actions instead, releasing the skirt he’s got in his fist and letting it flutter over his face again. You giggle. “I told you so.”

It takes more willpower than he’d like to admit to pull away from your wet folds, pulling off with a lewd sound that has you biting your lip as you gaze down at him. “I told you so,” he mimics, a little mean but you don’t take it to heart. “Hold your skirt up.”

You hum, the grip on his hair loosening as you push away his dark locks instead. “Mmmm,” you hum. “No.”

“No?” he repeats, actually really scandalized. Okay, so he’s a little spoiled when it comes to you— it’s not his fault! You made him like this, conditioned him to think that you would always give into his every whim because you were just so sweet and considerate and wanted him to be happy. And Jungkook also wants you to be happy, and in his opinion, being happy right now means having him fuck your pretty brains out for ever getting sassy with him.

“I don’t listen to men,” you tease, followed by a cute little nod, skin still a little warm from your looming orgasm. Jungkook takes advantage of your tiny moment of weakness, and strikes like a viper.

A girlish squeal leaves your lips, hands stretching outwards as he knocks you backwards onto the mattress. “Jungkook,” you gasp, sprawled out artfully, beautifully, over his sheets now. He doesn’t waste a second longer, crawling over your body until you’re a shivering mess beneath him.

Hand against your throat, the other blindly reaching for the front of his sweatpants. “What is it, doll?” he drawls meanly, reveling in the way your eyes roll back when his newly-freed cock lands against your slit. A choked gasp leaves your throat, lashes fluttering wildly until Jungkook loosens his grip.

You’ve done a nice job riling yourself up, lips squelching wet and loose when he runs the tip of his cock along them. Your knees are pulled up for him, spread perfectly for him to fit between. You’re so good for him, Jungkook feels a little bad for how hard he’s going to fuck you now.

The sympathy doesn’t last long.

Once upon a time, you had been the epitome of a cute and sweet girlfriend. Had picked him up from class, encouraged him to do his homework, wore these cute little skirts around campus. Deep down inside, Jungkook knew everyone else was jealous of him— you were just so pretty and cute, a girl straight out of everyone’s dreams.

Until he sunk his horny claws into you. Jungkook will be the first to admit he spends a little too much time browsing porn sites— he’s a man, cut him some slack —which had never caused him any problems before. Even when the two of you were just friends (pining ones at that), you had never seemed even remotely affected by his extensive pornographical knowledge. It was a known fact among your friend group that Jungkook’s best friend was his right hand.

But then, of course, you started dating Jungkook and it was like a save file of all his horniest fantasies was downloaded directly into your brain. Which leads him to this.

“Spit in my mouth,” you shiver, got these huge, watery eyes pointed his way. His cock twitches.

There’s a little groan that tears itself from his throat when he leans forward, cock sliding along your folds, to grasp your chin between his fingers. “Open,” he commands, and you do. Your lower lip quivers, tongue pressed against it as you wait for Jungkook to spit down your mouth. He can’t say he regrets letting you peek through his porn stash, not when it leads to this, you whimpering at the hot glob of saliva he shoots down your throat. “Filthy,” he pants, memorizing the movement of your throat when you swallow like the good girl you are.

Before he can write another twelve sonnets about that dazed look on your face, he’s roughly grabbing at your thigh. You whine, limbs so pliant beneath his touch, letting him hike your knee over his forearm as he tugs you closer. “Fuck,” he groans, reaching down to align himself with your quivering hole. You’re still so wet, make the most lewd sound when he sinks into you. Not that Jungkook really hears it, the sound of your strained moans practically drowning everything else out.

“Fuck,” you cry, one hand clutching at his forearm, the other toying with your breast. It’s a magnificent sight, and Jungkook is suddenly feeling a little cocky when he realizes he’s the only one who gets to see this. It’s this presumptuous nature that fuels the first round of thrusts into your cunt, fast and full. He makes sure you feel every inch of him, tip to base, as he pistons his hips forward. “J— Jungkook,” you pant, back arching beneath him.

You take it so well, walls sucking him in every time he draws back out. “I’ve got you, doll,” he moans, hiking your leg further over his shoulder. Every roll of his hips has your tits bouncing back and forth, lower lip as well with the dopey, open-mouthed look you got on for him. And the damned skirt that got him here, fucking you with a punishing pace, sits perfectly around your waist. He has half the mind to take it off for you, briefly wonders if it hurts, but just looking at it reminds him of about thirty-seven pornos he’s seen. So it stays on, works alongside your lovestruck face to actively rewrite all those pornos anew with you starring in them instead.

It sure helps when you start your usual mindless babbling. “I love you,” you gasp, face screwed up in pleasure. “I- I love you so much.”

He’s contemplating doing a study on you and your weird mid-fuck confessions. You do this a lot, and while Jungkook doesn’t mind, it sure does leave him curious. “Love you too, baby,” he says anyway, repositioning his arms so he can hold your waist with both hands.

“Really?” you ask, voice so whiny, eyes brimming with tears. From emotion or your need to cum, Jungkooks not sure. (Hence the need for a study!)

Another brutal thrust that has you moaning loudly. “Really,” he reassures you, glancing down to watch his cock sink into your hole as he picks up the pace. Your arms are practically limbless, and his stomach is beginning to feel tight. The end was soon. “Love your pretty little face.”

Another whine, your fingers pulling at your pebbled nipples. “M- My pretty face?” you whimper, blink these long lashes up at him. They make Jungkook go a little mad, bring on a wave of jackhammer thrusts that cut your moans into choppy little cries instead.

“Prettiest girl I know,” he groans, not once stopping the movement of his hips. You’re quivering like a leaf beneath him, your entire body locking up as Jungkook guides you toward orgasm. “A fucking doll, baby— so beautiful for me,” he praises.

It’s exactly what you want to hear— secretly, Jungkook hypothesizes that you’re a little bit of an attention whore —crying out when he slows to a grind against you. Each roll of his hips has him rubbing over your swollen bud, leaves you trembling until you’re eventually unraveling beneath him. “Oh- Oh, fuck— Jungkook—“ you sob, writhing beneath him as you cream his cock.

Your tits look amazing, nipples stiff from your arousal and all the attention you’d been giving them. Your features soften, gasps framed by your pillowy lips. As Jungkook has said before, your pretty face was the most dangerous weapon.

He manages a few more pistons of his hips, mostly for reputation sake, before he’s eventually pulling out. His right hand, once the sole hero of his solo sessions, makes a valiant return now as he jacks himself off over you. It takes a few harsh pulls of his cock until he’s spurting his jizz over you, painting your tummy and your tits in white ribbons of cum. You flinch, a tiny whimper leaving your throat at the mess he makes. “Fuck,” he groans one last time.

When it’s over, you have the audacity to shyly pull down the front of your skirt. As if your tits aren’t out and about, but Jungkook pretends he doesn’t see it. Instead, he channels his energy into peppering your face in kisses. “Best girl,” he praises, even though he knows you hate the nickname. “My beautiful feminist queen.”

A pinch against his cheek. It hurts like hell, but he endures it for now, still very much in love with your performance today. “Get me a towel,” you huffily ask, uncomfortable with the jizz sticking to your tummy, as if he didn’t spit in your mouth a few minutes ago.

His research paper is waiting for him at his desk, the materials he’d spent weeks collecting waiting to be typed up. But his girlfriend is so soft and sleepy, asking him to stay for another nap.

There was never a choice.

#networkbangtan #bangtanhq #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jjk♡#jjk smut #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook fic #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #bts smut #bts fic #bts jungkook #mine #skirtfic

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highwaytothedangerzone502 · 2 years ago

Text

India Lima Yankee - Chapter 41

Pairing: Rooster x Female OC

Word Count: 2040

Warnings: Anxiety about death, sheer (entertaining) stupidity

Summary: Juliette Kazansky discovers Maverick is back in town for a special training detachment, but she's more than a little blindsided when Rooster arrives too. Having not spoken to him for almost ten years after their less than amicable break-up, Juliette can only imagine how the next few weeks are going to play out when she remains head over heels in love with him while he wants nothing to do with Juliette other than to forget her.

Or so she thinks.

Notes: The parts in italics are flashbacks.

Chapter Songs: Reckless We Own It Dumb Ways to Die

Chapters: Chp 1 Chp 2 Chp 3 Chp 4 Chp 5 Chp 6 Chp 7 Chp 8 Chp 9 Chp 10 Chp 11 Chp 12 Chp 13 Chp 14 Chp 15 Chp 16 Chp 17 Chp 18 Chp 19 Chp 20 Chp 21 Chp 22 Chp 23 Chp 24 Chp 25Chp 26 Chp 27 Chp 28 Chp 29 Chp 30 Chp 31 Chp 32Chp 33 Chp 34 Chp 35 Chp 36 Chp 37 Chp 38 Chp 39 Chp 40 Chp 41

Maverick wanted to kill him.

It was the only explanation for the sheer stupidity and insanity of the plan the captain decided to follow. Of all the possible routes they could've taken...

With blaring sirens and plumes of black smoke rising from the destroyed air base, Rooster turned to Maverick; he prayed to God, Goose, Carole, and Iceman that his dad wasn't thinking what he probably was. Although fearing the response, Rooster said, "You're not serious."

Instead of warranting him with an answer, Mav glanced at him out of the corner of his eye and, without a word, got up and crept closer to the enemy base. Rooster had no choice but to follow, and while he kept silent, the bitching in his head rambled on.

Don't think, they said. Just do, they said. It'll be fine, they said. So I listen to them, and now I'm following Maverick to my potential death while he's practically skipping towards the enemy base like he's Dorothy on the fucking yellow brick road! This cannot be the first time he's done something like this. How is this man still alive? Does he have a death wish? Or is he merely immune to death and forgets that others aren't? God, we should've just waited for the helicopter...

Rooster lay behind a snow-covered rock next to Maverick. The two of them peered over it at the chaos before them, and Mav pulled out his monocular to scan the situation. What was he hoping to find? A spare plane that no one happened to be using or guarding? Even if there was, how could they take off in it when the runways were knocked out of commission by the Tomahawks earlier?

Maverick nodded at a hangar at the very end on the right, handing his monocular to Rooster. Putting the device up to his eye, he followed Mav's line of sight. It took a moment for him to get the lens focused, but once he did, Rooster couldn't help but blurt out, "You've gotta be shitting me."

He turned to Maverick, adding in disbelief, "An F-14?"

Mav kept his eyes on the base, watching all the proceedings. "I shot down three MiGs in one of those."

Rooster returned his attention to the hangar, doubt coursing through his veins. God only knows how long that plane had been sitting there, what kind of maintenance it had, if any. When was the last time someone actually flew it? He pointed this out. "We don't even know if that bag of ass can fly."

"Let's find out!"

"Mav!" Rooster hissed as his dad bolted away. When he didn't listen, he muttered to himself, "Okay."

Without another option, unless he wanted to wait in the snow in enemy territory for a rescue, Rooster chased after Maverick, running through a hole in the damaged fence to catch up. He slipped when he slowed down next to the captain, narrowly managing to avoid crashing into him. Rooster tried to walk casually across the field and runways like Maverick, but all he could see through the haze was potential death surrounding him. Tanks and soldiers moved all over the base, and to make sure he wasn't the only one seeing this, he said quietly, "There's guys up there, Mav."

"Yep," Maverick acknowledged, still walking purposefully towards the F-14. Did nothing rattle this man?

"There's more over there," Rooster added, noticing a tank driving dangerously close by.

"Okay-" Mav slipped into a jog- "let's start running."

"Yeah, run. Run!" Rooster encouraged, finally feeling like Maverick was reacting like any normal person would. Miraculously, or by sheer dumb luck, the two men made it to the hangar without being caught or shot. Rooster glanced at the F-14, trying to gauge its airworthiness. It appeared to be in decent shape. It certainly looked flyable on the outside, but what about the inside?

Maverick hitting his arm garnered Rooster's attention. Hurriedly, although still trying to catch his breath, Mav explained, "Once-once I give you the signal for air, you're gonna flip this switch until the needle gets to one-twenty. When the engine starts, you got to pull out the pins and disconnect everything. You understand?"

"Yeah," Bradley replied confidently. Maverick flipped a switch, and the machine they stood in front of powered on. Letting out an excited "yes," Maverick slapped Rooster happily on the arm before scampering up over to the F-14. On his way, he turned around and said, "Once I'm up, stow the ladder."

For the next few moments, everything was a blur. Rooster barely remembered stowing the ladder, pulling out the pins, climbing onto the wing of the jet, and hopping into the backseat. Noticing the ancient controls and radar, his eyes widened in wariness. He had no control over his mouth when the words slipped out, "Oh my God. This thing is so old."

Maverick ignored the comment, pulling the F-14 out of the hangar and asking, "Canopy?!"

"Clear!" Rooster replied, strapping himself in. He watched as Maverick pulled onto the taxiway and came to a dead stop. They both surveyed the scene. Enemies still ran like crazy around them, seemingly unaware the two crazy American pilots were commandeering one of the jets, and plumes of black smoke continued to rise where the Tomahawks struck earlier. Rooster grimaced, wondering how the hell they were going to take off. He pointed out, "Both runways are cratered. How we gonna get this museum piece up in the air?"

Maverick didn't respond for a few seconds, but his head nodded ever so slightly as if he'd been talking silently to himself and agreed with whatever he decided. He flipped a switch, and suddenly, the wings of the plane started sweeping out. Bewildered and fascinated, Rooster bonked his head against the canopy to watch. "Why are the wings coming out, Mav?"

For a second time, Maverick didn't respond.

He's not thinking what I think he is... Rooster thought grimly. However, when Maverick remained parked in place but hit the thrusters, the young aviator realized he was thinking what he thought he was. "Mav, this is a taxiway. Not a runway. This is a very short taxiway, Mav!"

"You just hang on," the captain responded, completely ignoring his backseater's protests.

The plane shot forward, forcing Rooster against his seat. He couldn't help himself, which seemed to be the norm for the past couple of hours, when he exclaimed, "Holy shit!"

This man is either insane or a genius. If we make it out of this alive, I'm never doubting Maverick again.

Gathering the strength to peer up front, Rooster had hoped to see a relatively clear path. What he had not wanted to see was two oil tanks towering in front of them and blocking their path. There was no way they could get enough air in time. The men were going to die after coming this far. Maybe Mav still had time to stop. Would he listen if Rooster protested?

Probably not.

"Mav," Rooster said hesitantly, watching the oil tanks become closer and closer, too close for comfort. "Mav!"

"Here we go!" Maverick warned, lifting the plane into the air.

"Holy shit." Rooster closed his eyes, not wanting to witness his death because of his dad's maniacal escape plan. Of all the dumb ways to die, hijacking an enemy plane and taking off on a taxiway was not the one Rooster thought would get him.

I'm sorry, Juliette. I tried to make it back to you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sor-

A snap broke Rooster out of his thoughts, but rather than discovering the plane had crashed, he found himself shooting up into the air. Considering everything visible to him appeared intact, it had to have been the landing gear snapping off.

Well, that problem could be dealt with later.

In the meantime, since neither of them was dead, Rooster took the opportunity to turn on his ESAT. Maybe they were still in close enough range to appear on the boat's radar, if not reach them entirely. Maybe if Juliette was in the command room, and if she saw them on radar, she would realize both he and Maverick were okay, that she hadn't lost two more people she loved. Rooster could only imagine what his fiancée was thinking, how she was feeling.

I'm coming for you, Jules! He promised, despite the fact she couldn't hear his thoughts. I promise I'm coming home to you.

As the F-14 flew over the mountains, Maverick instructed, "Okay, Rooster, get us in touch with the boat."

"I'm working on it," Bradley replied, looking at the switches, buttons, and electronics surrounding him. "Radio's out. No radar. Everything's dead back here. What do I do? Talk me through it."

"Okay, first the radio. Throw the, uh-" Maverick paused, racking his brain for the correct answer- "the UFH-2 circuit breaker. Try that."

Rooster glanced at all the switches on his right, then to his left. "There's 300 breakers back here. Anything more specific?"

"I don't know. That was your dad's department," Maverick confessed.

If my dad could do it, so can I. "I'll figure it out."

Twisting back to his right, Rooster tried to scan all the switches as quickly as he could, but a glare from something below the jet caught his attention. Shifting his gaze, Rooster's blood ran cold. "Mav, tally two! Five o'clock low. What do we do?"

Two Su-57s. The only other fifth-generation fighter in existence next to the F-22 and F-35. No one had been this up close and personal yet.

"Okay, listen-" Maverick started confidently, leading Rooster to believe his dad had a foolproof plan to get them out of this- "just be cool. If they knew who we were, we'd be dead already."

The response, like most of Maverick's today, had been the last thing Rooster expected. Still, the captain had gotten them this far with his batshit-crazy ideas, so who was Rooster to question this one too? "Well, here they come. What's your plan?"

"Just put your mask on. Remember, we're on the same team. Just wave and smile. Just wave and smile."

Maybe it was the stress finally winning out, or maybe Rooster's brain simply needed something funny to happen today, but Maverick's words caused the penguins from Madagascar to briefly flash in Bradley's mind, the leader going, "Smile and wave, boys. Smile and wave."

Yeah... he definitely needed sleep after this mission if they returned home safely. That, and a stiff, stiff drink.

One enemy plane pulled up alongside them; its partner stayed behind it. Rooster, taking Maverick's advice seriously, gave a small wave to the pilot, who, in return, made some hand gestures. They were obviously instructions for something, but exactly what, Rooster had no idea. Without taking his attention off the SU-57s, he inquired, "What's that signal? What's he saying?"

"No idea," Maverick admitted. "I have no idea what he's saying."

The enemy pilot made a different gesture with three fingers. Like last time, Rooster had no clue what it meant. Maybe Mav did. "What about that one? Any idea?"

"No, never seen that one either." In the blink of an eye, the enemy distanced their plane from the F-14 while its partner moved behind it. Maverick swore. "Oh, shit. His wingman is moving into weapon's envelope. All right, listen up. When I tell you, you grab those rings above your head. That's the ejection handle."

Rooster glanced up at the rings, but something was eating at him. This couldn't be the only way to escape. "Mav, can we outrun these guys?"

"Not their missiles and guns."

Rooster recognized what he was about to say next could very well be a mistake, but only if it was anyone else flying the F-14. This was Maverick. If anyone could do it, he could. "Then it's a dogfight."

Maverick sounded dubious when he replied, "An F-14 against fifth-gen fighters?"

"It's not the plane. It's the pilot," Rooster reminded him, remembering all the stories of the impossible feats Maverick pulled off in his career. If he could do those, he could do this, but Rooster knew why his captain was hesitating. "You'd go after them if I wasn't here."

"But you are here," Maverick replied softly.

"Come on, Mav," Rooster encouraged, sensing the pilot needed one more push to do what needed to be done. "Don't think. Just do."

***

Tags: @lgg5989 @shanimallina87 @polikszena @summ3rlotus @souslesyeuxde @gleasonmalfoy @icemansgirl1999 @supernaturaldawning @thedarkinmansfield @lyannaforpresident @lapilark @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth @simpofthecentury @shadeops21 @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @double-j @picklejuicesposts @bradshawsandbridgetons @majdoline @jakexfmc @catsandgeekyandnerd @peachiicherries @multifandomcnova @fandomsstolemylife00 @bookloverhorses

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fanimesenseiwrites · 4 years ago

Note

Ok, I know I just gave you a request before this, but I actually would love to see how the brothers + the Angels (and the Succubi 😏😂) react to an MC that ACTUALLY HAS BDE, and is a total fucking Dom down to their core (No submitting for this bitch, they literally can’t without being severely uncomfortable and that’s not sexy at all 😤)

I really love this idea so much actually.

And it's not that I love this one more than your other one, but this one felt a little easier to write to me.

NSFW-ish : nothing explicit but mentions of bdsm and sexy times

Everyone's Reaction to a Dominant MC:

Lucifer:

Before he comes to like the MC he HATES their dominant personality.

To him it comes off as defiant and bossy (talk about the pot calling the kettle black)

But after he gets to know the MC and grows to love them, he finds it incredibly attractive

The problem is that, he's normally the dom...

He's a bit conflicted.

MC doesn't like being dominated at all and he's only into it every once in a blue moon

So they end up being more of kindred spirits, and exchange "advice" about dominating their partners

Mammon:

He thinks the MC is kinda bossy, which he'll say he doesn't like, but he actually kinda likes it...?

But when MC praises him? That's what he really likes.

He'll do anything if MC will praise him for it

It doesn't even have to be sexual, he'd stop stealing if MC calls him "my good boy"

Well, he says he would. He can't help himself sometimes...

But if MC doles out the punishment? He won't even run.

He can't quite figure it out, (he's a fucking sub he just won't admit it) but it's not so bad when MC punishes him. And it's not because MC goes easy on him.

Leviathan:

Both him and the MC are in for a bit of a surprise when they're getting onto him about his messy room one day

It's really not unusual for his room to be messy. But for whatever reason, MC is really upset about it today.

"... you lazy, pathetic shut-in...!"

"Ah... don't stop..." Levi whines.

MC is taken off guard at first, even blushes a little. "Wait... so you want me to call you names?"

Levi goes red as a cherry. "Y-yeah... I mean, if you want to..."

MC grins. "So you want me tell you how pitiful and filthy you are?" They run their hands over his shoulders teasingly.

Levi nods. Did he get even redder??

MC grins mischievously. "Okay... but you gotta clean your room first."

Levi frowns. "Wait..."

"Do it or I'll compliment you."

"Don't..." he begs softly.

"Levi, you're so smart and handsome and good at video games..." MC teases.

"No! O. M. G. Shut up!" He immediately starts cleaning up.

MC is grinning like the Cheshire Cat after figuring it all out.

Satan:

Satan only likes MC's dominant side when they turn it on Lucifer. He just finds it entertaining as hell.

But he absolutely does not like it when it gets turned on him though. Because, well...

They remind him of Lucifer when they're like that.

Also, he tends to be more of a dominant personality himself so...

MC will be nice and not act like that with Satan, but they can really just be friends in that case

Asmodeus:

MC being dominant is really really sexy to him

Asmo isn't so much of sub as much as he'll kinda just do whatever to get off

But Asmo is definitely bratty, he thinks it makes it more fun if MC has to work for what they want

MC doesn't mind so much, they like to play too

They're also an excellent brat tamer 😏

Beelzebub:

Beel doesn't mind MC being dominant if that's what they like

He really does prefer them being on top anyways

MC can't bring themself to do anything crazy with Beel though because he's just such a good boy

They'd feel bad even if Beel says he's cool with it

And he really is cool with it, he's really chill as long as they communicate

(Which you should be doing anyways!)

Belphegor:

This man is the definition of brat energy.

It's just so much easier to not do something than to do whatever MC wants them to do

Belphie is a little torn about how he feels about MC being so dominant

On the one hand, he loves fucking with them and he likes that MC wants to do all the work more or less

But on the other hand, they get pushy and bossy and then they remind him of Lucifer

Definitely not sexy to think about your older brother, whether you like him or not

Diavolo:

Ya know those CEOs, etc that spend all day being in charge and so every once in a while they just wanna let go and be dominated? Yeah, that's definitely our crown prince

He's such an obedient little sub, he'll do anything the MC tells him to do, he's just so happy to not be in charge for once

MC is really good about being respectful to Diavolo in front of folks, but as soon as that bedroom door closes... 😏

Barbatos:

He loves MC being dominant as long as it's being used for keeping the brothers in line or helping Lord Diavolo relax...

But when MC is dominant towards him... ehh....

He's really more of a switch himself, and even then he's not into anything... hardcore.

While he doesn't hold the same status as Lord Diavolo, he still is a person who is very much in control and sometimes he needs to let go and relax

But he also likes being in control.

So if he can't ever dominate MC, he's more than happy to just be friends with them

Solomon:

Solomon is... an interesting case.

We all know this man radiates brat energy. Like all day long. To everyone.

And MC kinda loves it, but they also hate it.

At this point in his life, Solomon finds having power kinda... meh

I mean, when you were once a king and have been the most powerful sorcerer, at some point having power just isn't interesting

So he likes playing the part of the (bratty) sub

But its Solomon, and he likes to push the envelope...

He tried to do something domineering with MC ONCE, and it caused him to be defenestrated.

Solomon is decidedly not a brat for a long time after that.

Simeon:

He finds it amusing how the MC bosses the brothers around so easily

But when they want to do... things with him, he's a little unsure.

It's not new territory for him in terms of knowledge, but it is in terms of practice.

MC is fascinated by the idea of dominating an angel. In a way, it feels like they're corrupting him.

Well, Simeon's willing to try (almost) anything once.

MC is gentle with Simeon, even if their words aren't

Simeon actually likes it. And he'll never be into impact play but he enjoys being tied up.

Luke:

Luke is LIVING for MC bossing the brothers around.

It's only what they deserve (so he thinks)

But sometimes, MC will say something bossy and their voice sounds different, lower...

Then Simeon covers his ears.

He doesn't know why Simeon keeps doing that. He really wants to hear MC boss the brothers around...

Succubi:

They're astounded. They're in awe. They're horny af watching MC boss the brothers around.

They talk amongst each other about MC so much.

"Do you think they're really a dom or are they just bossy?"

"Do you think the brothers like it or is MC just like this all the time?"

"... do you think they'd... with me?"

They all think that. They all hope for that.

And they really really wanna ask but... well they're all subs, god demon king bless them.

A couple of them get the courage to ask but then they get nervous during the execution and MC is not exactly the sharpest tack...

So MC literally has no idea how many demons want to fuck them....

Until Valentine's Day that is.

Dom MC is not easily overwhelmed. But the sheer amount of presents they get... and how many of them are from succubi that want to be dominated by them...

MC is really flattered but also wildly embarrassed. They lock themself in their room for a few days while they think of the best way to easily let down a bunch of horny succubi.

It goes better than one would expect saying "no" to a bunch of demons would... but it is not without disappointment and more embarrassment.

MC locks themself away again after having to do all that.

MC will be okay, but they might need some mental aftercare from their favorite boy afterwards

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cockasinthebird · 4 years ago

Text

It was awkward at first, which isn’t much of a surprise to Steve. This is a whole new world for him- how would he ever even go about dating or flirting with guys, least of all Billy Hargrove. Girls he understood, flowers and chocolate and driving them to the mall and carrying their shopping bags, classic textbook stuff that he’s actually quite good at if he had to say so himself.

Hi was all he managed to write to Billy.

Hey ;) was the response.

Nerve wracking, dizzying, nauseating. It left him a mess for that entire weekend, making him incapable of ever even responding to any of his other matches on the apps, because he couldn’t stop thinking about Billy fucking Hargrove. Yet he also didn’t know where to go from there, and when Billy didn’t see it fit to send him a second message, it just died out right then and there.

But there was no relief, no Oh thank God that he wouldn’t have to even try and find out what it’s like with Billy- what sex is like with Billy. Yet the thought of it stayed. Every night, morning, day. Friday, Saturday, Sunday, all ruined by a crown of golden curls, broad shoulders, his musky stench, that ugly tattoo… It doesn’t make any sense to him still, but now whenever he thinks about how firm and strong Billy was, bumping up against him on the court, the way he almost admired Steve in the showers right before calling him a pretty boy, and his voice when he said it… it’s all too vivid now. Whenever there was a moment for it, his idle hands would slowly find their way past the border of his briefs, but after only a few strokes of his half chub he’d pull back with a loud and exasperated sigh.

Come Monday morning and he’s sitting in his car, hands gripping too tight around the steering wheel, students flocking to the front doors of Hawkins High. Yet somehow through the mess of reluctant teens, Steve still manages to spot Billy without even really thinking about it, like a gorgeous needle in a hormonal haystack, jeans clinging to his sculpted ass, the fabric around his thighs looking about ready to tear-

Steve shuts his eyes, squeezing till it becomes uncomfortable in an attempt to forget that he knows what Billy looks like naked; how freckles dust across his features everywhere, how smooth he is, how he’s oh so perfectly waxed-

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, shit.” Of all things that could have happened, Steve sporting a boner at school wasn’t rare but definitely the worst. Especially given the subject of his all too sudden desires.

He had never cared to think twice about Billy when he wasn’t around, and now he’s the only thing on his mind. He can’t go in there like this, can’t face him like this, Steve’s body is too sensitive to even the slightest hint of Billy apparently.

And he’s not going to jerk off in his car, that’s just… sad.

The fact that he makes it all the way home without a single speeding ticket is just dumb, lazy luck, and that he makes it to his bedroom before jerking off for the second time today is just impressive. At least he can still show some self restraint.

But only a little.

For when he’s done and ashamed of it all, he sluggishly drags his feet toward the shower, where as soon as the hot water hits his skin, he’s reminded of the locker room at school. And he’s reminded of all the times he has caught Billy stealing glances, only for those crystal blues to flee once they’ve been caught, maybe spit out a little toxic comment that’s barely heard in passing.

As he now looks down at his fully hard dick once more, yearning to a certain someone’s attention here in the nude, Steve closes his eyes only to be met by the prideful, girthy cock that even when flaccid Billy struts around with like he’s the king.

His lips pursed around a cigarette. His hands as they grasp the ball at practice. His fingers so nimble whenever he plays with a pencil in class. His smile that he flashes to all the girls. His tongue out to swipe as he grins at Steve.

“Fuck, ah-” he bites into his one hand as he cums into the other, white clashing with the pink of the bathroom tiles. And another, “Fuck!” as he slams the side of his fist against the wall of the shower.

Barely an hour passes before he’s hard and ready again, lying on the couch with old reruns of whatever on the tv, his eyes glued to the pics Billy has posted everywhere for his own conceited ego’s sake, and the hundreds of likes and comments he gets, of course.

But it’s hard not to like what you see, when you’re faced with self-confidence like this, and well earned at that considering his Adonis looks and frequent exercise routine. It wouldn’t shock Steve if he found out that Billy could lift him without breaking a sweat.

Actually it thrills him far too much to even consider, as he watches a video on instagram of Billy benching far more than what Steve weighs, and all the blood rushes into his already eager erection at such a speed he gets a little dizzy.

He almost misses the doorbell ringing in his intense, almost stalker-y field of view, and who the fuck even rings anyone’s door at almost 1pm on a Monday. A sigh and rubbing his eyes prepares him for the inevitable greeting of either mormons or jehovah's witnesses, or maybe he’s lucky to meet a travelling salesman who’s got a cure for crushing on people way outside your league.

The bell rings several times as he walks up to the door, and even after opening it up to the warm summer weather, it takes Steve several long seconds before he realises who’s standing there, toothy grin and denim clad with an arm up on the doorframe.

It hits him like a bullet to the heart, the shock of finding billy Hargrove here, in front of Steve who’s barely dressed and-

Billy’s eyes hone in on the obvious tenting of Steve’s green boxers, and that grin spreads into the widest, flashiest smile that Steve has ever possibly seen.

“Is that for me?” he drawls out, lustful and daring.

And it sets the poor trust fund kid aflame, his heart pumping so fast and hard he feels it pulsate in his dick. The blood rushing away from his brain must be making him dumb, because the only seemingly obvious reaction Steve can sort out is reaching for Billy and kissing that smug look from his face.

It doesn’t take Billy long to get in on it; he pushes his way through the door and closes it behind him, strips clean of his denim jacket before tugging off Steve’s shirt. It all happens so fast he can’t even follow, the taste of Billy’s spit and the feel of his teeth biting disorients him to a point where he can barely answer the question,

“Where’s your bedroom?”

With, “Upstairs and to the left.”

Suddenly they’re on his bed, the memory of them stumbling up the stairs as they undressed distant and nearly gone, as the throbbing of his cock has never felt louder than in this moment.

Of all the girls he’s been with, being with a man is… different. He’s nervous, almost nauseous with it, yet has never been more excited, turned on, or harder in his entire life. Hands are everywhere but where he desires them as they push him into the covers, smoothly runs up and down his chest and abs then all the way up to cup his jaw. His face feels wet with kisses and how eagerly Billy licks his lips to taste everything.

It’s a rushed mess yet it doesn’t go fast enough.

“Touch me,” he whispers without thought as he tries to keep up with Billy’s pacing.

“Yeah? Want me to touch you, pretty boy? Touch your hard, long cock?” Billy’s tone almost cruel and rough at the seams, his hands going down to grip Steve’s hips with near brutish strength.

“God yes,” Steve moans at the slight pain, “I want you to touch me so fucking bad- jerk me off, please.”

“Please?” Billy barks out a laugh at that, “Those bitches you fuck into all that nicety? Please and thank yous.”

“They love it,” Steve says with confidence that can only come from personal experience.

But it only makes Billy laugh more as he pulls away. He sits up on his knees, cock hard and thick where it stands at attention between his muscular thighs. “That won’t work with me, princess. Don’t gotta ask like a good guy for me to fuck you, just say it and I’m here.”

“How easy of you,” the words are out before Steve even thinks about it. The rivalry they have is still new and fresh, it can barely be helped, and for a moment he fears that he has ruined the moment.

Yet Billy doesn’t move away. He slowly licks along the arch of his upper lip, something deep and primal in the way he stares, and a hand runs through his golden locks to push them away from his irritatingly handsome face.

“Look who’s talking.”

In a rush that seems natural to Billy, he flips Steve onto his side before laying down behind him and pressing the head of his wet dick against the crevice of Steve’s thighs.

“Wait!” Steve almost shouts as the churning of his stomach makes him sick with worry about the more technical functions of… this.

“Don’t worry baby,” Billy’s voice all of a sudden like silk, a range so odd and unfamiliar compared to his normal boisterous attitude, “I’m not gonna pop your cherry the first time we do this. You got me too excited for that, don’t wanna wait while I prep you like you deserve,” he whispers against the shell of Steve’s ear, and it eases every single worry he had.

“Oh…” The pent up nerves in his stomach vanishes, like a knot coming undone, every single muscle in his body relaxes into the sheets.

Well, almost every single muscle.

“Yeah, oh,” Billy chuckles and rubs his nose against the back of Steve’s neck, kissing his back. “I can be a nice guy, too. You don’t gotta worry bout a thing, just let me take care of you.”

Today has been… a long, confusing mess. From the boner he woke up with after dreams of Billy, to the one in his car, the one in his shower, the one on the couch, to the way Billy so rudely shoved his way into Steve’s personal space, up the stairs, onto the bed. Rude and hectic from their first kiss till now. Now he’s… nice? Steve feels a fool for falling for it, but at least he’s aware as he lets down his guard and allows for Billy to… do whatever he pleases.

Is this how girls feel whenever a hot guy is nice to them? Whenever Steve is nice to them? Doesn’t feel like the worst thing in the world.

So he nods and hums a light agreement.

“Good,” Billy hums, too, and it makes Steve’s skin crawl in the best way possible; the shivers down his spine almost delightful as they go straight to his dick.

And when Billy gently pushes his heated flesh in between Steve’s thighs, the wet pre lubing up the skin perfectly, it’s weird and foreign, but also impossibly erotic and thrilling, and suddenly all Steve can think about is how Billy’s cock would feel inside of him.

It’s no lie that that’s something he’s thought about before - not necessarily with Billy mind you, just in general when sliding into a soaking wet pussy, he’d often get almost lost in thought about what that feels like, and if this is any indicator of it, he’s even more eager for it now.

So eager he can’t help the long, breathy moan that escapes him as Billy moves into his embrace till they’re lying flush together.

“That good huh?” Billy whispers from behind, and Steve can only imagine the self-satisfied smirk on his face.

Rather than responding he moves, closing his legs tighter and grinding back against Billy, as to test his own boundaries with all of this - which has been something of a win, considering he really went from his first kiss with a guy to this within ten minutes or so. And the way Billy groans all pleasant and pushes harder into their meeting of skin jolts through Steve’s cock like a bolt of lightning making him spurt out pre.

“Yeah, keep your legs just like that,” Billy speaks uncharacteristically soft as he moves one hand down, his burning hot palm smoothly moving over a thigh and staying there for leverage, as he starts rocking back and forth. In and out.

Steve’s breath stutters and he can’t help but put a hand over his mouth. It’s not uncommon for him to be overly vocal and enthusiastic during sex, but this felt… almost embarassing, the kind of blithe and soft coos and moans rather than deep, throaty groans making his cheeks red.

“Don’t do that.” Billy moves his hand up to grab Steve’s and intertwines their fingers. “I wanna hear you. Let me know what I do to you.”

His cock throbs with urgent need at those words. Such a deep, baritone voice that excites Steve to a fever pitch, his body burning up where sweat gathers down his back between them. It’s gross and stimulating all at once, as Billy thrusts between his wet thighs and holds him close, he feels like a virgin again.

And maybe that’s why Billy is treating him so kindly. Not that he disagreed with the fervor earlier, how crude it was to be manhandled like that, but this? This gentle rocking of their bodies as they together find harmy in the rhythm, it’s intoxicating. Steve barely even notices when his own hand sneaks down to wrap around his hard length, so lost in the moment he can’t think straight, can’t stop the sighs and moans that spill from his body as he melts into Billy’s embrace.

“That’s it,” Billy speaks softly like summer rain, “God you’re so fucking hot. Can’t tell you how long I’ve admired you in secret, thought about every single mole and freckle as I jerked off at home. This is all I’ve wanted for so long, I thought I was dreaming when I saw you on the app.”

Steve wants to respond, wants to say something like, “How do you think I felt when we matched,” but his mind is a fog of euphoria, barely able to even hear what’s being so dearly and honestly said as he can’t focus on anything other than the slickness of Billy’s cock hitting the back of his balls, nudging him closer and closer to the edge with every thrust.

“Your thighs are so nice and soft, clenching around me just right, arh, you feel so fucking good, princess.”

When Billy speeds up, Steve naturally follows along.

“I’m so close.”

Steve, too. The pent up feeling that’s been quickly building to an unbearable pressure point is becoming too much, hot and ecstatic like a volcano waiting to erupt.

“Wanna cum between your legs so bad, baby.”

“Ah- please,” Steve finally finds words and it comes out like a pathetically needy little whine.

He wants to wait- wants them to cum together like he’s seen on porn as fake as that might be, but it’s a sudden and rampant thing, blinding him with fireworks behind his screwed shut eyes. A feeling that can’t possibly be expressed in any other way than a loud, prolonged, almost shocked moan, as he cums into his own hand that he jerks with ardent intensity.

Whilst not simultaneous, Billy is not far behind; urged on by Steve’s alluring keening he sped up his thrusting and grinding like he’s in a race for the finish line himself. And it would be kinda humorous if it wasn’t so hot how hard he slams into the gathering of warm, soaked flesh. Oh how he pounds into Steve with all his sweaty might, grunting and groaning till he cums with a loud and lustful moan, his hand still holding on to Steve’s with a near crushing passion to it.

And then there’s silence, as they breathe out together, muscles relaxing, dicks flaccid and sticky with cum. It’s warm and nice and cozy, but it’s hard to enjoy for Steve.

Is Billy actually this nice, or was it just a play to get off? Did he do to Steve what he does to every other bitch that he gets with? What now? What’s next? Are they gonna be a thing or just friends with benefits? Wait, are they even friends? Fuck buddies maybe? All the thoughts that he didn’t have time to be anxious about before comes rushing in fresh and clear in a post-climax-clarity moment, and it stirs the pit in his stomach alive again.

When Billy squeezes his hand gently, and asks, “What are you thinking about?” whilst nuzzling into the nape of Steve’s neck, kissing him lazily as if almost asleep.

It… helps. The thoughts aren’t gone per say but they’re in the distance now, and all it took was a simple question- a sign of caring.

Steve turns around in bed to look at Billy’s drowsy expression, before answering, “Thinking about taking a shower. You wanna come with?”

Billy’s nose furrows and wrinkles as he peeks out past ruffled curls. “Can’t we stay like this a bit longer?”

It makes Steve’s heart beat different.

“Sure.”

#Harringrove #my writing #lemon

192 notes · View notes

burnedbyshoto · 4 years ago

Text

through the looking glass

“Please don’t kill me!” you begged from the floor, your hands raised, trying to get this psycho to leave you alone. “I-I-I don’t think I taste that good? I’ve tried my blood before, and it’s disgusting, true fact! Mosquitos don’t even like me that much!” “I don’t eat humans, I—” the psycho samurai man tried to speak, but you were far from done pleading for your life.

— Or in which you cross paths with Shinazugawa Sanemi and nothing is ever the same again.

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pairing: shinazugawa sanemi x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, nsfw, fluff, cursing, an instance of demon slaying, mirror sex, vaginal fingering, blowjob, slight breeding kink, unprotected sex, cursing, praise kink, this is my first time writing for this fandom oh no

word count: 8,420

a/n: I fell asleep while editing this, good reminder to maybe not lay in a comfy blanket when trying to get shit out on time????? i love sanemi sm tho, please enjoy!

kinktober day 15 main kink: mirror sex | kinktober masterlist

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The sky was always prettier at night.

It wasn’t anything against the sky during the day! As a matter of fact, you also loved the light blue sky just at noon. You loved it wholly! You loved the way the sweet smell of crops of the earthy dewy scent traveled in the morning, and you loved how every creature in existence seemed to hum with life. The morning sky and earth were always busy.

But, you always found the deep dark blue-purple, nearly black night sky to be ethereal.

If you closed your eyes and listened closely, the nighttime, silent with white noise hanging through every quiet move of wind, felt like another world. Out near the countryside, not quite the city and not quite the farmlands, you were able to live a life where you felt safe, felt normal. You and your friends were always screaming and chasing each other through the streets following the setting sun. Your curfew hours pushed back for the night, letting you relax.

You loved to sit just at the edge of the farmed roads, right where the light from the town just disappeared into blackness. You would sit there, eyes bright, fingers pointed at the sky as you took in the irreplicable night sky. At sixteen years, you had decided to venture out on your own; your friends said that they wouldn’t be able to join you because of their own busy schedule and insisted that you don’t go on account of the few vanishing people the past few nights.

But, you were never one to pay mind to others’ opinions; your own mind set on seeing the supposed asteroid shower that night in tandem with the full blue moon was to be a sight you couldn’t miss. So, you laughed, scratching the back of your neck as you sigh.

“Fine, I won’t go,” you lied to them, and they smiled in gratefulness.

But, like the liar that you are, you found yourself rushing out of your home, your fingers clutching at your kimono as you run. The sun had already set, and if you were to make sure that you would make the sighting, you were going to need to get there now.

Eventually, you made it to that pathed dirt road, your eyes scanning the darkened sky with intense focus as you began to search for the asteroid shower you were promised. With the bright, beautiful moon in the sky, your feet stamping onto the road with your impatience and excitement, you listened to the whistling wind and chirping bugs as you waited.

Nothing abnormal or out of the ordinary.

It was tranquil, quiet, calm.

And finally, when the backdrop of the night sky served as the background to the beautiful shower of asteroids, a single sound that you’ve never heard before echoed from before you and immediately made your stomach sicken.

Someone was eating in the fields right before you, the sound of a person, maybe an animal, eating something as if it was starving. Slowly, the air filled with fickle laughter, a noise that had your heart racing as you stood up. Your attention no longer focused on the beautiful night sky, but instead, two pairs of yellow and red eyes staring at you.

“Oh? Would you look at that! Two humans already, and it's only three hours into the night!” a voice cackled, and even with the shroud of darkness brought by the hours of the night, you recognized what the not humans were eating.

It was a person.

Unable to scream due to fear, the horror burned through your veins as you tried to scramble to your feet and run away, only to find that you couldn’t even move. You began to cry instead. Fat tears welling down your cheeks as they stalked toward you at a speed you couldn’t start to believe was human or animal, and you curled into yourself, eyes unable to gaze up at the sky one last time.

“So this is where you shithead demons have been fucking hiding?!” a voice practically roared behind you, and it was then you shrieked when a burst of wind exploded over you and a man dressed in a weird black uniform with a white haori with the kanji for ‘kill’ printed on it.

What the fuck was fucking going on?!

You pinched your skin, wondering if, by chance, the gods had cursed you at the very moment and forced you to hallucinate some strange reality.

“T-That’s a Hashira,” one of the not-human humans gasped, arm tugging at his friend. “We don’t stand a chance!”

What the fuck was a Hashira?!

“Like hell, we don’t!” the other snarled in defensive anger. You managed to push yourself onto your forearms, your knees still too weak to carry your standing weight. “Look at all his scars, gotta be hanging by a damn thread. He’s not even looking at us!”

You were taken back by that statement. Why wasn’t the third lunatic looking at them?! You snapped your attention from the non-human humans to look at the white-haired man who was staring at you. Your jaw dropped in your shock and slight embarrassment at the way his scarred face took you off-guard for a moment. Why was he looking at you and not the non-human humans?!

And in horror, you watched the psycho scarred man in front of you unsheathed a katana.

A katana.

The ringing of metal loud in your ear as you scrambled to your feet, this man was genuinely insane. Who still carried such weapons in this time period?! The samurai were no longer around, and he was dressed in something that looked weaker than your own kimono!

“Ni no kata: Sousou-Shina to Kaze,” the psycho samurai man spat, and if you hadn’t already believed you weren’t hallucinating already, you definitely did now. Jagged, solid apparitions of claw marks appeared from the air as the psycho man shot forward, the glinting menace of his katana tearing through the necks of both the non-human humans with such horrifying ease. You screamed.

The terrified scream didn’t stop afterward, only seems to increase in horror when you watched the bodies crumble into smoke and ash, their voices still muttering last words, bitter and abhorrently angry at being murdered. The psycho samurai had beheaded these non-human humans at such power and strength he had destroyed their living bodies!

Was this because you hadn’t thanked your aunties for adding that one extra meat bun when you noticed after going home?! No, it had to have been for breaking that perverted boy's nose the other day, and this was the curse he placed on you. Physical violence was never the answer; you vehemently prayed to your gods as you begged for forgiveness. Please spare your pathetic life.

Your jaw dropped as you watched the psycho samurai man, with what seemed like proficient knowledge and experience, flick his blade. Blood splattered off the blade, onto the floor, disintegrating too. And well, fuck the gods.

Spinning on your heel, you ran as fast as you possibly could, your chest heaving and nerves entirely shot because if you were hallucinating this badly, you needed to get home. Maybe that candy you ate earlier today from the snot-nosed brat was some weird drug. City kids could never be trusted.

“Are you okay?” a voice gruffed by your ear, and you shrieked, seeing the psycho man seemingly appear beside you. His footsteps were silent as he so obviously ran to catch up to you, and through your frightening horror, you found yourself tripping and falling onto your ass. Staring up at the wholly scarred man in front of you.

You had initially thought it was just his face that was scarred, but no, it was obviously more. There were jagged, ugly cuts lining his pectorals, abdomen, and if you weren’t making it up, you noticed some on his arms. Every piece of exposed flesh was lined with intense scars.

“I don’t eat humans, I—” the psycho samurai man tried to speak, but you were far from done pleading for your life.

“My mom says I have a thick neck! Called me an ox or something! I’m sure you don’t want to cleave off my head like you did the others?! Oh my god, am I gonna die?!” you squeaked, your fingers digging crescent shaped wounds into your arms as you began to cry. “I don’t wanna die!” you wailed, and then just the slightest bit pathetically: “I just wanted to see the asteroid shower.”

The psycho man seemed to grow irritated, his lips pulling back into a small snarl before he rolled his eyes. With tears in your eyes, you watched as the man threw his katana to the side, much too far away from him to use on you, and in the dim lights of the town behind you, you watched the shadows grow on his face as he sat down before you.

Not close enough to make you panic, but not far enough you were squinting to see him.

“My name is Shinazugawa Sanemi,” the psycho samurai man explained, and your eyes narrowed.

“That’s not a god or demon I’m aware of,” you muttered under your breath, but it seemed he heard it by the sour glare he gave you. You stilled under his weighted ton glare, your face warming as you averted your gaze.

“I’m not a god,” he spoke firmly, his arms folding underneath his chest. There was the chance he was a demon, you couldn’t help but think. “Nor am I demon.” You wilted.

“Rabid mountain boy?” you guessed, your nerves and adrenaline are still pounding way too heavy for you to filter your words.

He huffed, “No.”

“Well then—”

“Just let me explain,” he stressed, an eyebrow raised at you, and you stilled. It took a bit, but eventually, you nodded. “My name is Shinazugawa Sanemi, and I am a part of an organization called the Kisatsutai.”

Kisatsutai, the Demon Slayer Corps.

It rang an old bell in your memories, something distant, aged. Maybe a tall tale your grandparents had told you.

“It’s exactly as you think it to be,” he spoke, and you found your gaze rising to meet his. You realized even with the dull, yellowing light of the faraway lanterns, his eyes were a clouded purple. “Those two shitheads that tried to attack you are — were — demons. Yes, demons still exist,” he followed immediately as if knowing what stupid question you were going to ask next. Your mouth closed, and a chill ran down your spine knowing that non-human demon creatures that ate humans actually existed in this world. How had you been so unaware? “I’m a Hashira though, the wind Hashira to be exact. You’re living in my section of the territory I’m assigned to keep safe, so don’t worry. Demons don’t come out during the day; the sun kills them, so keep indoors at night, and you won’t have any issues.”

You remained silent, your mind twisting and turning as you tried to digest his words that seemed to rip apart your life. Sure, there was always a chance of being murdered in life; you weren’t that naive of an idiot to think so. But you never would have guessed that the potential murder you would have was a demon. It just seemed childish.

“T-That’s why they disintegrated?” you eventually babbled, your mind and consciousness entirely overloaded. “Are you some sun blooded person? How did you kill them?”

Sanemi stared at you but grunted. He rose to his feet and offered you a hand, “Top secret, can’t tell you.”

That wasn’t a good enough answer, and your mouth opened, ready to retaliate.

“I’m not trying to be a jerk,” Sanemi spoke, his hand tensing yet again in apparent effort to get you to grab it. “I’ll explain to you the bullshits of the reality of life later, but fortunately, this wasn’t the only area with demons nearby. So, unless you want me leaving you out here alone.”

A frown curled on your face, but with an unspoken level of trust, you grabbed his hand. You tried not to show how shocked and just awed you were at the calloused, entirely strong palms he had. You had no doubt in mind that he was a master swordsman, that title of Hashira seemed to be a big thing too, and the strength and power and callousness of his palm proved it.

“I’ll walk you home, pipsqueak; let’s get a move on it.”

Nodding your head quickly, you tore your hand from his and walked.

The walk was silent, and you could feel his presence lingering behind you like a hot coal in your pocket. You looked behind to see if he was still there several times, and each time he was staring straight ahead, eyes focused on something far away.

“You’ll be back tomorrow, Shinazugawa-san?” you ask as you made your way to the entrance of your home. You weren’t moving to go in, trying to figure out what he meant by explaining it all later.

“Tomorrow evening before I work,” Sanemi confirms, arms folding again.

You nod, “How old are you, Shinazugawa-san?”

He narrows his eyes but eventually rolls them, “Eighteen.”

Only two years older than you were, yet his hands felt like those of a war-veteran elder. It almost seemed like you and he grew up in entirely different worlds. You nod some more, absorbing his words and skills with better clarity as you finally begin to retreat past the gates. “Well, thank you for saving my life, Shinazugawa-san. I’ll leave—”

“You can watch it tomorrow night,” he said, face void of emotions.

You blink, “What?”

Sanemi rolls his eyes, looking entirely unimpressed. “The asteroid shower? The one you were watching or wanted to watch? Tomorrow night, another one will be happening.”

“O-Oh,” you felt warm, a smile spreading across your face as you nodded. “Thank you for letting me know!”

He nods too, a sharp inhale whistling through the air before his shoulders relax, the tension leaving his body altogether. “Well, until tomorrow evening.”

“Goodnight, Shinazugawa-san,” you politely bow. “Stay safe tonight.”

“...you too.”

And when you pull up from the bow, he’s gone.

The next evening, Sanemi shows up again. The sun is still in the sky, barely on its decline, and the summer day's warmth is slowly cooling down. As promised, Sanemi answers all of your questions, or well, tries to answer it. Some questions you have, he roughly snarks that those are stupid questions that shouldn’t ever be asked again (i.e., you asking if he was a child of the sun and that's why the demons had died, you asking if he had grown up in the woods and that’s why he was so scarred, you asking if it was only him in this supposed corps). He makes it pretty clear and unmistakable right away that all demons are evil. That he has the power to kill most demons as he is now and is continuing to train himself daily to ensure that he will one day help eradicate the strongest demon. That had turned into a slight argument on how you seriously doubted an eighteen-year-old possessed the power to murder a thousand-year-old demon who has yet to be killed despite the numbers who have tried.

But Sanemi, for all that was worth speaking of, was strangely enticing. Whenever your family or friends peeked their nosy heads in to try and hear your conversations with the psychotic looking stranger, his rather brash and abrasive tone of talking melded away into one of perfect formality and intelligence you quickly forgot he had. It was almost devious of him to have charmed your mother as soon as he did despite his rather inappropriate getup — he refused to cover up.

Faster than you would have liked, the setting sun began to turn scarlet red and royal purple against the sky, and you watched one of the nine apparent Hashira walking away, his body disappearing in the crowds of people that were moving about in the town. But, he was taller than most of them, and with that head of white hair, you watched him leave until you could no longer.

“Come back again, please, Shinazugawa-san?” you had asked right before he left, your heart hammering in your chest.

He looked at you, unsure, a million emotions flashing through his clouded eyes. Ignoring the way your family and friends were watching you through the obvious crack in the door, you looked at Sanemi, who rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ll see.”

That was good enough for you.

Better yet, the asteroid shower returned that night, and as you took it in with a star dazed smile, you thanked Sanemi, wherever he was.

It seemed to become some sort of ritual for both of you.

Sanemi showing up, both of you talking in the courtyard of your home for a few minutes. Some days he showed up with enough time to eat dinner with your family, who were intrigued to know who he was. Some days your friends refused to leave your side, so Sanemi would as calmly as he could interact with them. Turns out a few of them reminded him of his own friends, and a sense of kinship formed between them all.

But as the sunset and you wished him well and luck, you always asked for him to return.

Sanemi would always respond with uncertainty. But the next day, he was there.

Some days he had more bandages on his body; some days, he looked straight up sick. There were scary days where he wouldn’t appear at all, and he’d be back in two days apologizing. He had come across a few Lower Moons and was hospitalized then had a meeting, he would explain. There were some days he’d let you grab his hand as he explained that he wouldn’t be back for a few days; there was a meeting in Headquarters, and it took a day to get to and a day to return from. Three days have gone from his usual postings, so he would have to spend an additional four days heavily working to make up for his disappearance.

“Fuckers aren’t as strong as they should be anymore,” Sanemi gruffed as you rested your head against his shoulder, his softly resting against yours. “Idiot trainers letting them take the test without their breathing techniques being strong.”

You laughed your finger, raising and pressing against his proud scar on his chest. It had been a year since you had first met him at that point, and now at seventeen, you knew he was proud of his scars, showing them off like the farmers showed off their prized crops, how senseis and masters showed off their awards.

“They can’t even fucking use the Water Breathing techniques correctly,” he spoke angrily, almost bitterly. “That’s the easiest breathing to learn! They had no fucking skill; they don’t use the breathes they should be using!”

“Mm,” you agreed, not really invested in their strengths or if the trainers were blind fucking bats, and your hand rested on his chest. His heartbeat under your fingertips, and you looked at his dark purple eyes. Despite the weird angle, his eyes were beating with the slightest bit of anger. “They sound like the worst.”

You had never known Sanemi to freeze up or startle, but you saw the way his eyes dropped to your lips, the way they drank them in, but he pulled away. His heartbeat suddenly frantic as he stood.

“It’s getting late; I gotta go if I’m going to make the town thirteen kilometers from here,” he grumbled, strapping his katana to his waist and standing up. You quietly followed after Sanemi, listening to him talk about how there was a case this morning but that the supposed demon was an actual cannibal.

As the two of you passed to the front gate, the warm smell of cracked dirt and sweet weeds filled the air. The sun was still high in the sky, just enough for your practically superpowered friend, not a friend, to make it to his suspected town just as the sunset.

He turned to you, falling quiet, obviously waiting for your typical farewell. But, you were trying something new tonight, and maybe from here on out. Sanemi watched with wide eyes as you stepped before him, your lips pressing sweetly against his battle-hardened skin, just kissing the corner of his mouth.

“Stay safe,” you grinned, pulling away, finding the pink in his cheeks and ears as a sign of victory. And as you made your way back into the doors of your home, Sanemi’s hands grabbed you by the shoulders and pulled you near once again.

“I didn’t know you were a fucking Water User,” he snaps, and before you could smoothly input, you were not a Breathe user on account of your very serious childhood asthma, his lips pressed against yours, and it suddenly made sense.

The sky during the day was, for the most part, repetitive and boring. But when Sanemi pulled away from you, your lips humming with electricity and pumping blood from your excitement, the backdrop of the sky on the man who held your heart could outmatch even the asteroid shower you had seen.

“Come back again, please, Sanemi?” you slowly spoke, the smile on your face ear-splitting and pure.

“Fuck off!” Sanemi flushed bright red, and he turned on his heel and stormed away.

He listened to your bell-like laughter as he rounded the corner. Well, until he seemingly reappeared before you again, his hands pressing to your cheeks and kissing the laughter from your throat before he pulled away. His voice was gruff, and his body language screamed he was doing everything not to look away from you right now, “I’ll see.”

And it was good, so very, very good.

By the time you were eighteen, you had moved in with Sanemi.

Despite the lack of a formal proposal, how both of you agreed not to marry yet, your parents allowed you to move in with Sanemi. They knew the reason why both of you had decided not to wed and accepted it as long as Sanemi took all responsibility for what would happen to him should anything happen to you.

You still remember Sanemi showing up in the only kimono he owned. It was a bit — okay, try way — too tight against his arms and chest. His katana or usual uniform nowhere to be seen. It wasn’t that you hadn’t been expecting this to happen; the two of you had discussed this future together plentifully. But seeing him on his knees, a bow that was so low, respectful, and formal, had sent your skin simmering with blazing heat as Sanemi asked to officially court you and if he could also bring you home with him.

Tears welled in your eyes at his beautifully spoken request, and your parents, who may or may not have interrupted a handful of too many gentle, sweet, full kisses between you and Sanemi in the gardens of your home, had expected it.

That sunset, you had watched Sanemi pull his katana and uniform from underneath a tatami mat in your room, and you screeched about how he had hidden it there. He didn’t bother responding as he changed into his needed uniform, and you had politely looked away while he changed. You may or may not have caught sight of his muscled, toned, and scarred legs, though, and you may or may not have thought about it for every second after he had left.

He kissed you wholly before he left that night, his thumb rubbing your cheekbone just softly enough to make you putty in his hands.

“I’ll be back in the morning to help you move in,” he promised, and you nodded your head impatiently, your lips seeking his again.

As promised, Sanemi showed up the following morning, and with the help of the wagon your parents owned, all of your items were carefully exported to Sanemi’s home. A home that was way more than you had imagined. Your fiancé, not quite a fiancé, was always clean, he never showed up covered in dirt or blood, so while you weren’t necessarily expecting him to live in a crate at the side of the road, you were also expecting that from him.

It was a large home with a large courtyard, garden, and training spaces. Sanemi had easily carried your trunks into your (Sanemi and your’s) room, and you had hugged your parents tightly before they left. Their smiles drowned out into the bright sunlight as they went.

The adjustment to living with Sanemi wasn’t as hard as you thought it was going to be. For sure, the most challenging thing was getting your body accustomed to being awake during the night so that you could sleep with him and then spend his waking hours with him. It was perfect, blissful, and wonderful. You’d spend sundown to sunrise doing chores and doing drills with a wooden sword and dummy — Sanemi was teaching you how to handle a katana in case he wasn’t around. You’d write down lists of what you would need when he came home. Thirty minutes after sunrise, nearly without fail, Sanemi would stumble into the house, calling out his greeting.

You helped him bathe the night's blood and grime away, and with gentle hands and coaxing words, dragged him to sleep. At three in the afternoon, both of you would wake, and the day would begin with a sweet kiss good morning. Both of you would go and finish the day's errands, the vendors soon becoming familiar with your face and person. It was a great community, and everyone seemed to hold Sanemi in high regard.

But your relationship changed yet again when Sanemi slammed through the doors one day after sunrise. His eyes were wide, faint pink, already healed over scars risen on his skin as you came to the front door to see your husband, not a husband, discarding his shoes on the floor.

“What’s going on?!” you asked, partially because you were scared and partly because you were slightly exhausted and ready to drag him into bed with you. But it seemed that Sanemi had that same exact mindset, but with a whole other meaning.

The kiss he pressed on your lips was blistering hot; you arched against the intensity of his kiss, your fingers touching the dirt of his face and feeling the heat of his skin.

“I need you,” he simply stated, over and over, his words coiling and festering under your skin until you could do nothing but let out a shaking moan. Exhaustion had burned out of your bloodstream, and a gentle, building warmth sank through your loins as slowly you agreed.

I need you,” you repeat as the sliding doors close behind your shifting bodies, the both of you losing yourselves to the heat and the passions of the early morning lust.

It had been approximately a year since you and Sanemi began to indulge in your shared sexual desires. Your relationship was deep, it was full, and as everything human, had its flaws. There were mornings where he would come home and needed to sleep in a separate room, evenings when he would leave, and his words would be cold and haunting. His life up until now had been a hard one, and you were no fool to believe that your presence would make him forget that.

But in spite of it all, you were always happy when Sanemi would pull off of you, the streams of golden morning light whisping into the room, your body aching with the intensive pleasurable waves as the both of you would ease into sleep. It was perfect, you thought so, at least.

Sanemi, however, always claimed that you were a sight to be seen when he was bottomed out in you. His words were sweet in your ears as his lips brushed your skin, his praises were endless, but even when the drunken hue of the passions of the early morning faded, he swore you were a sight to be taken in at its full glory. Through every praise, every small moment where he would kiss you afterward as the smell of sex and dewy grass wafted into the room, Sanemi wanted you to see how beautiful you were when he fucked you.

You had no idea how that was to work; there was nothing that gave off a good enough reflection. But one late spring day, your eyes at the table you were using, carefully shuffling the funds Sanemi had acquired and placed them out accordingly, the front door was thrown open.

“I’m home,” Sanemi grunted from the first room in the home, and you strained your ears, not hearing the door shut behind him.

“Welcome home!” eventually came your response, your body pressing up from the floor, fingers smoothing down your purple kimono before walking to where Sanemi stood.

By the time you entered the room, Sanemi had already closed the door. But you were less focused on the time interval it took him to enter the home and more interested in the large, covered, and almost ominous rectangular object resting on the wall.

“Whatcha got there?” you asked, head tilting in your curiosity, eyes focused on the large rectangle.

“The obaa-san gave me free smoked salmon because she heard that apparently, we’re trying for a kid. She said eating salmon before having sex will guarantee a strong male heir. So I figured we could make some nigiri,” Sanemi stated, purposefully ignoring your question if the way his lips pulled into a sardonic smile had anything to say about it.

“You’re an asshole,” you laugh, your hand smacking his shoulder only for him to thread his fingers in yours and pull you in for a sweet kiss. You hummed against his soft lips, your fingers running through his hair until the entire sentence he just told you sparked back into your memory. You tugged the ends of his hair just sharp enough for him to grunt in the back of his throat. “Idiot, don’t let them think we’re trying for a kid just yet.”

Sanemi snorts, pulling away from the kiss, “Maybe you should stop talking about your cravings in public — especially with that gossiping vendor.”

“Period cravings are a thing!”

“Yah yah,” Sanemi grunted, his hand waving you off as he gathered his rectangle thing and started making his way off with it. It was enormous though, you noticed as he carried it. It was longer than both of your heights, and if you were to stand at his shoulder, it seemed like it could still be wider than the both of you. “Stop breathing down my neck, weirdo.”

“You’re the one not telling me what that is!” you complain, following Sanemi with enough distance that you weren’t stepping on his heels. “Come on, ‘nemi, tell me what it is?”

“What do you think it is?”

“I hope it isn’t Mitsuri-chan’s present from Iguro-san,” you grumbled, knowing that last Christmas, you had to keep Mitsuri’s present hidden from the lovely Love Breathe wielder. “I can’t handle him showing up in the middle of the day, demanding to see it again. Why didn’t his own home work?”

“Kanroji shows up occasionally, and he only brings her into the best rooms depending on the day,” Sanemi grunted, resting the rectangle onto the wall by your tatami mats. “He won’t confess; she’s dumber than a rock, it’s all annoying. But he’s still… a friend.”

“Oh, I’m so glad you’re finally admitting to being friends with your fellow Hashira!” you chirped, your arms circling his neck, your grin complete and authentic as Sanemi looked at you unimpressed, his lips in a pout, not a pout, but a pout. You had the privilege of meeting all the Hashira Christmas morning, and they were all lovely people you got along with quite well. “Now, are you and Tomi—”

“That water bastard can choke on my foot and die!” Sanemi snapped, his face fuming, eyebrows narrowing, but his warm arms remaining relaxed and warm around your waist. “I’ll kill him and his stupid ‘I’m-better-than-you’ personality.”

“And you don’t get along with someone like that?” you feign surprise, utterly delighted with the way his eyes sparkled dangerously at you. And well, you didn’t ever hesitate to take a bite out of Sanemi. “Guess there’s only enough room for an ‘I’m-better-than-you’ personality even in the Hashira, and if it isn’t you… oops.”

Sanemi choked, and you laughed loudly, face nuzzling into his stiff neck as he attempted to escape from your stubborn hold.

“You’re a real jerk,” Sanemi said as monotonously, allowing his much stronger body to be bent down as your lips peppered against his skin and eventually on his relaxed lips that didn’t bother returning your kisses.

“Kiss me back,” you whined, your lips pressing with a more significant, more profound fervor against his mouth.

“No.”

“I’m sorry!” you giggled with no actual apologies in your tone, enjoying the way that Sanemi’s lips slowly began to press back against yours. “Tomioka-san is obviously not the holder of the ‘I’m-better-than-you’ personality title!”

“You damn brat,” Sanemi growled, his fingers pinching and pulling at your cheeks, paying no mind to your cries of mercy. “To think that I bought this for you too!”

“You haven’t even shown it to me yet!” you complain, unable to pout on account to his fingers, still pulling your cheeks apart. “You left me in the dark!”

Sanemi grunted, letting go of your cheeks, his purple eyes darkening and narrowing as he slammed a hand over your eyes and twisted you around in a swift movement. You resisted the small gasp hanging at the tip of your tongue when you felt his broad chest pressing into your back, and he moved forward, commanding you to move without a word.

“Is this when you confess you’ve been a demon this entire time and trap my soul into Hell with all your other sexy wives?”

“Would you shut up?!”

Sanemi’s hand tore away from your eyes, and even though you were ready to argue with him just to hear the flaring annoyance on his tongue, you stilled when you saw your reflection perfectly. This had to be a mirror, an invention made in the west a few years ago, and finally, it was here. You weren’t oblivious to the fact that you were smaller than Sanemi, but the mirror made that difference alarmingly apparent.

“I told you I wanted you to be able to look at yourself as I fucked you,” Sanemi whispered against your neck, breaking your attention away from its transfixion on the precise observation you finally had on yourself. “Turns out Tokyo got some imported, and I had to go get one myself.”

“Sanemi,” you whimpered, the canines of his teeth dragging against the tender flesh of your neck that was exposed from your kimono. Your eyes took in the sight of how his eyes stared at your face through the mirror's reflection, they were dark, murkier like this, and when his teeth slowly sank into your flesh, a ripple of pleasure and pain bubbling against your skin, you moaned.

“Look at yourself,” Sanemi purred, his arms circling around your waist, and you felt him slowly beginning to undo the fastenings and fabrics of your kimono. “I need you to understand just how crazy you make me feel when I touch you, when I fuck you.”

The words were hot cinders in your lower stomach, festering and twisting in its warmth as his words buzzed in your ears. Your eyes dragged over to your reflection, and you could feel the beginning steam come out of your ears at the sight of yourself. Your eyes were lidded, perfectly hooded to give off the obvious desire that was growing in your body, your lips swelling with how your teeth tore into them, stopping the small moans that went unheard, and the flush that radiated off your features and glowed in your eyes.

It was a sight that you had never expected to see, and the pure unadulterated lust radiating off your features embarrassed you. The embarrassment only seemed to grow more as the kimono slipped from your shoulder, exposing more of your tender flesh for Sanemi’s mouth and teeth to mark, and your head dipped backward at the lewd scene.

“Look at you, angel,” Sanemi smirked against your skin, his eyes glinting dangerously even though the reflection as you weakly, just barely managed to return your gaze onto your review. You looked even more wrecked as the kimono dropped to the floor, the white undergarments you wore making you look saintly in the reflection and warm light of the streaming sun. “So beautiful, so perfect, and all mine.”

Your fingers fisted into the pants of his uniform. Your knees feeling weak with the possessiveness that came with his words. Unsure as to what to do, all the embarrassment and shamelessness in the world dancing like falling leaves as you pondered what you could do. Usually, you would move with him against him. You didn’t exactly fall into a pillow princess category, but feeling the intensity of his gaze through a mirror, and the way that your body behaved exactly as he had always claimed it had, made your head spin.

You gasped loudly when his hips rutted slowly against your ass, his scarred hands continuing to undress you more, each fabric of clothing that separated your naked body from the mirror disappearing until you were completely nude. And you mewled.

“Look at yourself, angel,” Sanemi laughed against the shell of your ear, his head now against yours, keeping you from even attempting to look away. His large, rough hands glided across your much softer skinned body, watching as his fingers rolled your nipples between his fingers, massaging your tender flesh in his hands.

You saw the way your head dipped backward as you moaned, your eyes fluttering as you did so. Undoubtedly, both of you painted an erotic scene, but it was something you hadn’t ever expected to be confirmed. “You look so beautiful moaning against my touch; I wonder if you’ll like the way your face scrunches up when I fuck your pretty little pussy, or even when I touch it.”

Slight fear shot through your nerves as suddenly, Sanemi dropped to the floor, taking you with him. No pain went through your body as he made impact with the floor. You figured out why immediately, your ass was against his hard crotch, his clothed outer thighs pressing against your naked inner thighs, and you made sight with the mirror and keened at the picture of your spread slick pussy.

Sanemi shifted behind you, and although you couldn’t seem to tear your eyes away from how your cunt glistened in the light, you shook when you saw his bare arms, felt his bare chest against your back.

“You drive me utterly fucking insane,” Sanemi growled hotly against your ear, crotch grinding up into your ass, and you pathetically looked at your flushed face as you ground back downwards onto him in return. A slow groaned out moan resonated from his mouth, and you shivered and gasped at the noise, your cunt clenching at nothing as Sanemi positioned your arms as he wanted them to be. Clutched into his hair, absolutely revealing your naked body to the mirror, denying you no salacious angle of your body. “I want you to watch me make you feel good, angel. Don’t look away, promise?”

“I p-promise,” you stammer, the slight glint of his eye that you can still see, making your toes curl.

And he began.

Sanemi’s finger slowly traced down your knees, the heat from his flesh nearly burning as you tremble in his hold. Your instincts fight whether to look at him from the mirror or normally.

You keep your eyes onto the mirror. “Good job, you’re doing such a good job,” Sanemi voices, his fingers becoming feather-soft strokes against the inside of your legs that make you arch against his chest. a sharp inhale was what he was rewarded with as his fingers make small circles centimeters from where you crave him most. “I haven’t seen you react this intensely in so long. Is it because you’re watching your pretty face enjoy the praise?”

Unsure what to say, your head nods rapidly, your tongue falling dead in your mouth when his left-hand drags up your abdomen, scratching the underneath of your breasts until you can shake no more. “SANEMI!” you shriek, unable to take the teasing touches and watching your embarrassingly turned on face anymore. “SOMETHING! DO SOMETHING! ANYTHING, PLEASE!”

“Aw, you cracked so fast,” he chuckles against your ear, and you melt into a euphoric victory when his thick, rough fingers plunge into your cunt.

Immediately, your hips snap up to greet him, your body shifting in quick, fast snaps as you watch your soaked cunt fuck against his fingers, desperately, greedily taking him in more and more. The sight of his fingers disappearing into your cunt through the mirror, the way your teeth tore into your lips to keep your singing praises at a minimum, and how you could feel and swear you could see the heat pounding from your body take shape through the mirror.

You had never felt this tight yet undone. Your lust hazed eyes shifting from your almost too lewd facial expressions to the way Sanemi jaw flexed with his growled endless praises, to how your cunt greedily sucked him in, further and further until the pounding of your heart couldn’t even drown out the wet, squelching of your cunt.

“Fuck!” Sanemi cursed, his hips grinding further, harder into your ass, and you keened at the massive hard length that poked into your back. “Look at you, you’re so fucking hot, angel. So needy, so fucking greedy for everything that I’m giving you.”

“I want m-more!” you sob, your body hyper-aware of how fast his curled fingers were pounding into you. You craved the way his battle-scarred fingers dragged against your puffy inner walls, hips bucking so his fingers would drag against the spongy divots, sending your mind spiraling and your jaw falling in your wordless beg for more. You understood why Sanemi craved you like this, why he insisted you needed to see the way you looked when he fucked you because as the hand that was kneading and pulling on your breasts and nipples shot down to make sure your trembling thighs didn’t smash together in your building climax. How he continued to press sloppy, wet, hot, and bitten kisses against your neck, you were a perverts fantasy. “M-More ‘nemi, please give me more!” you practically wailed.

“You gonna cum around my fingers, angel?”

“I needa cum, I wanna cum!”

“I want you to cum around my fingers, look at yourself for me when you do,” Sanemi commanded, and you, in your lust-driven mindset, agreed. Your eyes were looking on your lewd face, and everything crumbled when the growing clenches of your cunt became a tight vice grip.

But the heated pressure between your legs had been festering for too long, the included visuals that sent your brain into putty had you cumming around his fingers, your hips bucking wildly, barbarically against his still conquesting fingers. “Yes, yes yesyesyeysyes, that was so good… your fingers are so good,” you babbled, your eyes crossing, unable to look at yourself anymore. The elation of the orgasm flooding your mind and muscles. But you hadn’t been fucking the man who could pound you for multiple rounds without tiring without picking up a thing or two.

Twisting around your lips that were swollen from your biting and smooth with your saliva crashed against his. Sanemi didn’t resist your kiss, his lips crashing and moving without any hesitation against yours. You moaned when his fingers left your heat, and you slipped your tongue into his mouth as you ground your ass against his still throbbing hard-on. “I want your cock still, ‘nemi. I want you to fuck me with your cock, please fuck me.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, okay!” Sanemi snarled, and his thighs slammed shut.

You crawled off his lap, watching as the slick stained spot on his uniform glistened in the light. Frowning, not wanting to disturb him, you couldn't help but lick against the wet area, voice moaning deeply at the musky, sweet scent of your slick against the fabric.

“Y/n!” Sanemi weakly got out, his hips instinctively bucking towards your lapping tongue.

You worked with him to get his uniform off his hips, your body not waiting for him to undress entirely before your mouth enveloped his thick veiny cock. The salty pre-cum invaded your senses, your tongue lapping up the underside of his cock before your mouth took in his swollen red head. You hollowed out your cheeks as you sucked his cockhead, your tongue swiping and moving at his leaking slit as Sanemi cursed the heavens for you, his hands grabbing onto your head and pulling you off him right when that shivering twitch of his cock pressed to your tongue.

Gasping, you looked at Sanemi’s nearly black eyes, disappointment heavy on your features.

“‘Nemi—” you pout, but Sanemi doesn’t let you finish.

You’re back almost straddling his waist, your back flush against his chest. He holds a strong, sturdy hand against your waist, keeping your waiting, wet cunt from lowering onto his hard cock. Your feet on the mats feel weak as you try to hold your weight above him, but when his teeth sink into the back of your neck, a spot that makes your body collapse without reason, you garble a scream when his cock sheathes completely within you.

Heavy, hot pants escape both of your mouths as you’re completely seated on his cock, the nearly inhumane girth of his cock making you dizzy at the surprise entrance. But you were much, much more fascinated with the way your pretty little pussy was stretched out so wide for his cock. He was buried in you, and even though it didn’t hurt to have him in you. The reflection showed how your lips pulled and stretched to fit him in, the small bulge of his cock in you was seen, and you cried in ecstasy.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!” you begged, hips long gone from obeying any command Sanemi could try to give you as you fucked yourself against his length. “God, your cock is so good, ‘nemi! You look so good filling out my pretty fucking pussy!”

That is what makes Sanemi lose it, his hands that rest on your hips tightening with a bruising grip as he begins slamming into you. The wet noises of his cock entering and exiting of your sloppy, wet cunt at an even faster speed in which you were fucking him make your nails dig into his thighs, your eyes crossing, breathes hot and heavy.

Twisting, curling pleasure thrums deep within your womb, tightening and warming with each successive thrust that sends Sanemi’s cock rubbing against your inner velvet walls. You cry his name, eyes dazed and dripping with want and need as you watch the slicked shine of his cock pounding into your without mercy.

“You’re so fucking tight like this, angel, so fucking hot. You like the way you look like when I fuck you, huh, look at how godly you appear,” he snaps, his arms hugging your hips, his thrusting becoming short, deep, fierce snaps.

You can’t look at yourself anymore, the heat of the sex and the electric pleasure that rides with every lick of his cock against your cervix, sending your hot, wet lips in search of his. Sanemi meets you halfway, open mouth moans and groans being exchanged between your open mouths as your tongues intermixed and pressed sinfully against each other. The noises that leave your wet sexes only fuel the raging fire in your cunt that has reignited to a hire flame than before.

“Cum in me,” you find yourself begging against his lips. “Please cum in me, don’t pull out, ‘nemi, please don’t pull out.”

“Fuck, fuck, you sure?” Sanemi grunted, his body heaving you both forward so that you were on your knees, and he was absolutely wrecking you from behind.

“Yes!” you affirm over and over again. your mind high off of him and how you looked in the mirror. “I want you in me, all of you in me!”

He let out a guttural whine, a sound that had you shaking beneath him and screaming when the coil in your cunt finally snapped.

Another orgasm crashed through you, and your spinning high echoed in your ears and curled your toes as you whimpered Sanemi’s name. With the sound of his hips slapping against your ass, and with his teeth burying into the nape of your neck, you felt the hot, liquid ropes burst from his cock, filling you up. The both of you remained there, panting as your sweat and slick covered bodies collapsed to the floor.

“So…” he gasped, collapsing onto the mat beside you, pulling you into his chest so that you could rest against his scarred chest. “Did you like the mirror?”

“...I guess,” you antagonize, grinning when he frowns. “It was hot; you make me look hot.”

Sanemi snorted, his lips pressing to your sweat-covered forehead.

“I don’t do shit; that’s how you are.”

You chuckled, warm grogginess settling under your skin as you merely hum in agreement.

“The Hashira meeting is tomorrow, so I’ll be gone for two days,” Sanemi murmurs, reminding you of the dreaded two days alone. It wasn’t as if you had forgotten; you never do.

“Think anything interesting will happen?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary, hopefully.”

You giggle, snuggling in closer to his chest. Yeah, hopefully.

#sanemi x reader #sanemi smut #sanemi shinazugawa x reader #kny #kny x reader #bbs kinktober 2020

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mxtcha-tea · 4 years ago

Text

and that's how i met you mother

✎desc; love at first sight with shiratorizawa (honestly, not all of them are love at first sight but ignore that)

✎pairing[s]; shiratorizawa 3rd years x f!reader (separate)

✎genre; fluff, crack

✎language[s]; english

✎chef note; just an excuse for me to write lovesick boys💗 (I can’t do Shirabu, Kawanishi and Goshiki’s part cause I ran out of ideas🤸‍♀️🚆)

Ushijima

It would just be a normal day in his class, learning and stuff like usual

Then after the teacher finished explaining and hand out the tasks, he'll went through his pencil case and couldn't seem to find any pen

Ushijima frowned at that and looked throughly in his pencil case but with no luck, there's none

He swore that he had put some inside, maybe his mind slipped a little?

A tap on his shoulder caught his attention as he turned his head around to make eye contact with you

You're holding out one of your pen to him with a neutral look,

"You can have it," Ushijima look at you surprised, does that mean he can just take it from you? That's a little absurd

But he didn't question it and nodded, slowly taking the pen from your hand and continue studying

The pen doesn't really sit right in his hand, it's not being his and literally someone else that he doesn't have the chance to talk to

He'll spare a glance at you every minute (ngl, he's complimenting your side view internally)

And when you caught him looking at him, he'll just blink and slowly look back at his work with a light blush on his cheeks

(Istg it's so cute)

After the class ends and before you can leave for lunch, Ushijima caught your attention first,

"Here, thank you for lending me this. And unfortunately, i can't take it from you"

You're just looking at him with a dumbfounded look before taking the pen from him,

"Ah, no problem, um..." "Ushijima Wakatoshi"

You nodded at that, scratching the back of your head "...Ushijima. And it's [y/n]"

Both of you are just standing there in front of each other but it's not awkward, surprisingly

It's as if you two are waiting for one of you to speak and end the convo

(Spoiler alert; none of you wanted to end the convo since both of you find each other interesting)

You cleared your throat, fiddling with your pen a little, "Okay, see you after this, Ushijima"

He nodded at that and with that, both of you went to your separate ways

'[Y/N], YOU AWKWARD BASTARD! THAT WAS SO EMBARRASSING, I BET HE THOUGHT THAT YOU'RE WEIRD NOW!'

Ushijima's just walking towards the gym with a fairly visible blush across his cheeks as he look down

"Ushijima..."

"[y/n]..."

"I guess he's fine..."

"I guess she's fine..."

Ushijima Current Mission!

Trying to figure what other scenarios he can drag you in to have a convo with you again

Good luck Wakatoshi~!

Tendou

You and Tendou have talked with eachother a couple of times but it's nothing more than that

And Tendou actually want to talk more with you (at first for friendship points but y'know...)

Today, you look more beautiful than ever to him today

It's not like you're not beautiful every other day (he thinks you're pretty so that's why he kept on having a convo with you)

And he caught into that

Somehow, he can't help bet stare at you in a distance and he tried his best to avoid getting caught

(Tendou's scared that you find him creepy for looking at you all the time and he don't want that thought to flood you mind)

Then, you came to him to explain about the work your science teacher gave since she's absent for the time being

And you can bet that he doesn't hear a single thing you said because he's too focused on yourself

It's kinda like in those scenes in manga where the main character stare into the main interest

The main interest looking as beautiful as ever with flowers around them

Pretty eyes, angelic face, kissable lips

For him, you're perfect and he even thought that you might be an angel in disguise

No matter how you even see yourself, he would always think that you're fascinating, adorable, enticing—

"Tendou, are you okay?"

The redhead snapped out from his thought and got caught by you

By now, his face is literally mocking his hair color as he chuckled nervously,

"Ah, I'm fine! It's just that..."

He was about to stop mid sentences but thankfully he still got that crumbs of courage and just goes with it,

"...you look pretty today,"

Tendou said with a closed eyes smile, peeking an eye open and trying to see your reaction (ngl he's nervous)

You blinked

Before you literally exploded at that which is what make him surprised in his seat

You fake coughed, looking away and avoiding eye contact,

"Thanks...."

[love meter +10!]

If this is an actual manga or anime, there could've been hearts dancing around him

Timeskip to Tendou at his home and squealing quietly to himself (he can't let his family hear him fanboying for someone in his school lmao)

"We're totally going to marry 3 years from now on~" he says to himself in the mirror with so many confidence

(I just love it when Tendou act like that, let him have his moment)

"Haha, thank you gods for creating me and [y/n] in the same world,"

Tendou's Current Mission!

Getting to know you better and give tons and tons of compliments, just like in the simulations! Specifically otomes and dating games

Try your best Satori~!

Semi

It was another day, another practice session

Except that it went longer than Semi expected, he managed to run from the gym to the main entrance

But before he can even put on his shoes, heavy rain started pouring down

He look at the dark grey sky, resting his forehead onto the shoe locker with one shoe already in his foot while the other in his hand

Sighing, Semi thought about asking to come with Tendou and Yamagata since he didn't bring his umbrella

But on second thought, he realized that they prolly forgot theirs too

And all 3 of them have to run under the rain again like last time

Yamagata and Tendou: "We can avoid the rain if we're fast enough!"

He shivered at that their words and the thought of getting terribly sick again

And before Semi's brain can process a strategy for himself, he was caught off guard when an umbrella was opened next to him,

"Ah sorry,"

In those few seconds, everything went slow motion when your eyes catches his

(He swore it felt like in the anime)

He can feel his cheeks flushing a little but thanks to the wheater, it's not obvious

"Hello?" Semi snapped from his thoughts, shaking his head before focusing on you again,

"Sorry, sorry, um—" "You don't have an umbrella?"

He blinked, shaking his head slightly

It's a pretty peaceful staring between you two with the rain hitting the ground as background sounds

Until you lift your umbrella up, and pointed at the small spot next to you with your thumb,

"Here, I'll help you,"

"Eh?"

Semi was flabbergasted a little at your statement but would he decline it?

Of course not,

"Just tell me where your house is then I help you go there,"

And that's how he find himself back at his house's entrance with you in front of him,

"And that's why I just let you walk with me for the afternoon,"

"Is that so, oh wait! I haven't known your name, and you prolly haven't known my name either..."

He scratched the back of his neck before looking at you with a smile,

"The name's Semi Eita, thanks for the walk back home,"

Your lips parted a little before in turns into a tooth rotting smile,

"[y/n], no problem and thanks for the company, Eita,"

An arrow pierced through his heart as his face is literally the color of Tendou's hair

And just like that, you left him on the entrance with a funny expression upon his face

Cutting the scene to Semi punching his pillow (rip pillow)

"You already caught me off guard already but you really had to look at me like that...."

Semi's Current Mission!

Try to find you the next day after first period and try not to be awkward with you and his convo after the eventful day

You can do it Eita~!

Yamagata

Let's just say that,

Yamagata went through the late anime girl scenario

But with his toast falling down from his mouth while running towards his school

And his stamina almost running low despite being a volleyball player and a libero

(His house's prolly far from his school, cut him some slacks sheesh)

He's pretty much stumbling a lot when he enters the school and speed walking up the stairs

Some of the students look at him weirdly but that doesn't become his main concern because a strict teacher is going first

Yamagata's almost there, almost reaching his classroom's door

But god had other plans and place an invisible rock in front of him

And as you can tell, he slipped on it and now facepalming the floor

(The sound is so loud my lord)

He groaned, shaking a little while trying to sit up from his position

The male look up and is now face to face with you, who's looking down at him

Okay he might be delusional from the impact but is he actually looking at an angel right now?

"Dude, you okay? That's gotta hurt from the sound that it made—"

Your words drowned inside his mind as he widened his eyes with pink tints decorating his cheeks

'This...THIS IS IT!'

"—also I think your nose is bleed—"

"PLEASE MARRY ME!!"

You flinched at that but keep a calm face, a little bit concerned that he may hit his head too hard

While Yamagata is just having heart eyes for you, sparkles around him after saying those words almost too confidently

He doesn't know what's in him that make him think that you're the one,

But he definitely can feel it

You sighed, crouching down while searching through your pocket and pulling out a small pack of tissues,

"I think we're going so fast right now but no, maybe 5 years later or never,"

"Does that mean you agree??"

"I don't know, you're handsome but also stupid, a himbo I think,"

You wipe away the blood dripping down his nose, taking his arm, opening it and put the bloodied tissue on it before closing it, giving a light tap,

"Now go to the nurse office,"

"Will you be there for me?"

"No,"

You help him stand up, dusting his shoulder and walk away as if nothing happened

Yamagata watches you from the distance with a lovesick smile

Tendou laughed behind him with Ushijima and Reon next to him and Semi looking at Yamagata, confused,

"Hayato, I have no idea if you had your alarm on but you just came to school during recess,"

"She's perfect...also, I think I need to go to the nurse right now cause my head hurts,"

Yamagata's Current Mission!

Marry [y/n]

Have fun, Hayato~!

Reon

(He will have the best love at first sight cause I say so)

It was the school festival and it's lively in every corner of the school, the outside, inside the classrooms, even the hallways

Reon had just finished his part of his classroom and now can walk around to enjoy the festival

Honestly, it's a pretty normal day to him despite being the school's festival

The students of Shiratorizawa has always been this lively so it's good that they can be keep the atmosphere as how it is like any other days

Since the others are still working on their parts, Reon was all by himself

Sure, the quiet sounds without Tendou, Semi and Yamagata is fine but he prefer it being loud anyway

A short of way to fill in the boring silence

But what's the bad thing to enjoy the peace once in a while?

So he take a small walk outside the Shiratorizawa building

Stalls decorated the outside with students busy serving the customers

He was greeted by some of them as he greeted them back with a warm smile

Hands inside his pocket while looking at the sky every few seconds

Baby blue sky with fluffy white clouds, it is the spring afterall

It was at that moment where he turn his head around and caught your eyes

It was something between those few seconds that a lighting strike between the string connecting you two for a second

Reon knew he did from the moment you two clashed with each other so suddenly

It was...not love at first sight exactly,

But rather, familiarity, like,

'Oh, hello, it's you. It's going to be you,'

The staring prolly lasted more than he expected before you snapped out from your thought, shaking your head,

"Sorry! Didn't mean to..." "But you didn't do anything?" He rose an eyebrow, smiling sheepishly and watch your panic slowly dissolves

"Well, technically yeah but It was bad of me to stare off at you like that,"

He chuckled, your heart clenching at that,

"Don't worry, I think I did it too...maybe both of us did,"

"Ah, yeah! Probably..." you fiddled with your fingers, visibly nervous facing him since he's basically a stranger even tho being in the same school,

"Reon Oohira," "Eh?" You look at him with confusion at first, while he just offers you a smile,

"My name, since we have...how to say it, meet each other? And I don't want to make you uncomfortable after all that so I think it's best if we introduce ourselves,"

Your heart's basically beating out loudly that you'll afraid that he'll hear it

But, that doesn't seem so bad, does it?

You mirrored his smile, this time more confidently than before,

"[y/n] [l/n], nice to meet you Reon!"

"Please,"

Reon put his hand onto your head, "Just call me Hira,"

You fainted

"She's interesting, I love her,"

Reon's Current Mission!

Get to know you better and honestly, there's nothing else to do after that other than asking you out

You'll do great, Oohira~!

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu crack #shiratorizawa #shiratorizawa x reader #ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #tendou x reader #tendou satori #semi x reader #semi eita #yamagata x reader #yamagata hayato #reon x reader #reon oohira

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marsbutterfly · 4 years ago

Text

Mirrors

Note: I have been working on this for months. Every time I listen to this song, I think about slow dancing with Hanji. Please I’m begging, let me know if y’all like it <3

Summary: Stars shine brightly in the sky outside but inside the crowded ballroom, the only star you are interested in is Hanji.

WARNING: Slightly NSFW!

Wattpad Version! | AO3 Version!

|◁ II ▷|

“Aren't you something to admire

'cause your shine is something like a mirror

And I can't help but notice, you reflect in this heart of mine”

The music that echoes from the main hall is now muffled by the closed doors. You take a few steps forward, propping your body on the balcony as you watch the leaves on the trees dancing with the wind.

Strands of hair fall from their assigned position in an elegant bun. As you shiver, you wrap your arms around your torso in an attempt to keep yourself warm.

Sliding your hand up and down the sides of your arm, you silently take your free index and middle fingers towards your mouth, a red lipstick mark staining your skin.

A smirk curls up on the right corner of your lips as you think about the tall, brunette awaiting for you inside the ballroom. Her black suit perfectly matches her eye patch as the waves of her hair fall over her shoulder, still the usual messy ponytail.

You take a deep breath allowing the cold air to fill your lungs. The wind hits your face and your nose turns bright red in response. Your eyes analyze the land ahead of you while you pay close attention to the armed soldiers protecting the building.

“Y/N.” A voice pulls you away from your thoughts. Immediately, you turn around and bow to her, paying close attention to her cheeks as they turn red under the pale moonlight.

“Your Highness.”

“I still can’t get used to that.” Historia says. The long, red cape she wears sweeps the floor as she walks closer to you, and in her eyes you can see how desperate she is for a break from the overwhelming attention she’s been receiving. You flash her a compassionate smile before extending your hand, helping as she struggles with the flowy white dress she wears. She mouths the words “Thank you” in return..

“Would you like a cigarette?” You ask, opening the container as the smell of tobacco quickly hits against your nose. She shrugs, quickly shaking her head while putting her hand up, trying to gently push it away. All you can do is laugh in response.

“God, no.” She says, a laugh of her own escaping her small body, “Just the smell makes me want to cough and plus, it wouldn’t look good if anyone saw the Queen smoking.”

“I don’t smoke them either.” You place the container back into the small pocket hiding in the fabric of your red dress, arms quickly wrapping around yourself once again in an attempt to shield yourself from the cold. “But I learned that it’s always a good idea to have a pack with you when dealing with the higher-ups.”

After taking a few more steps forward, Historia places her hand on your upper left-arm. Neither of you say anything for a few seconds, simply enjoying the rare seconds of silence surrounding you. It doesn’t last more than a couple of minutes.

“If you ever feel alone and the glare makes me hard to find

Just know that I'm always parallel on the other side”

Rushed footsteps come from behind you. The blonde girl by your side lets out an audible sigh before turning around to face whoever was making their way through the massive door and you notice a hint of sadness hidden in her ocean blue eyes.

“Your Highness, your presence is being required.” A tall soldier says, short of breath after running towards you. Historia hangs her head low, shaking it slowly.

“Go.” You try and encourage her, “Those military idiots in there won’t be of any help once the alcohol gets to their head.”

She grimaces before nodding, the soldier takes her hand and guides her to the massive brown doors of the ballroom. But before going in, he turns to you quickly. “Section Commander Y/N, Commander Hanji would like to see you.”

A smile on your face, you practically run back inside the building, your heels clicking against the floor as you pass the queen. She giggles and shoots you a quick glance.

“They really are an amazing couple, aren’t they?” She quietly asks the guard standing next to the door, not expecting an answer from her other than a smile and a nod.

The sound of loud voices and wine bottles gently hitting the edge of glasses fills your ears. In one of the corners, the band plays an upbeat melody while couples dance around the room. Ball gowns coat the floor with glitter as they spin around like dandelions flying with the wind.

On the way in, you rush past the crowd, bumping against a few and quickly apologizing until you lay your eyes on her. She holds a champagne glass in her right hand as her left rests in the pocket of her high-waisted pants. Even though Hanji is a few inches shorter than most of the men surrounding her, she still makes a point to hold her chin up and look down at all of them.

But as soon as her eyes meet yours, her face noticeably lights up. Once you are close enough, she excuses herself before quickly running towards you, careful not to spill the drink in her hand. Your arms wrap around her waist, face resting on the crook of her neck while she pushes your head as close to her as possible.

“You were looking for me?” You ask, propping your chin up on her collarbone. She smiles widdly at you and nods, strands of her hair tickling your face.

“Yes, I needed you to save me from…. Them.” She tilts her head, a barely noticeable gesture but enough for you to look over her shoulder. A group of four men stare at you, one of them you quickly recognize as Commander Pixis, who simply raises his nearly full wine glass at you before taking a long sip. Once he places it down, there is nothing in it anymore and you let out a giggle against Hanji’s skin.

“I’m sorry, I needed some fresh air.” You say and smile at her.

“Cause with your hand in my hand and a pocket full of soul

I can tell you there's no place we couldn't go

Just put your hand on the glass

I'm here trying to pull you through

You just gotta be strong”

The upbeat song quickly disappears and in its place a comforting silence appears. The woman in front of you takes a step back before extending her hand forward. No words are needed for you to understand what she’s trying to say.

You nod and take her hand, allowing her to guide you towards the dance floor. A red blush spreads across your face though you are not quite certain why. Perhaps it’s a result of Hanji’s warm fingers touching your skin or maybe the alcohol is finally hitting you.

Once both of your bodies come to a full stop, she places one hand on your back as the other remains holding yours. She pulls you closer and your focus now belongs to her intoxicating and intense, whiskey brown eyes.

Hand resting on her shoulder, you take a deep breath, preparing yourself as the band starts to play a slow melody. Couples all around you begin to move and you can feel your heart beating in your throat, a mixture of excitement and nervousness.

Hanji’s grip on you tightens for a second and you feel a wave of calmness washing over you. Her feet begin to move, gently guiding you around in perfect sync with each other. The smile on her lips as she escorts you from one side to the other is nearly enough to outshine the moon, your heels clicking against the marble floor.

For a second, it seems as if the world around you has disappeared and only the two of you remained. Curious eyes from the crowd now rest upon you, paying close attention to your movements. You can feel your heart racing in your ears, nearly blocking out the music.

Guiding both your hand and hers above your head, she spins you gently and you allow a quiet giggle to come out. As your body comes to a full stop, Hanji pulls you in, your palms resting against her chest while your eyes focus on the waves of her hair.

Every last particle of air is sucked out of your lungs before your lips meet hers. The taste of the alcohol in her breath mixed with the faint smell of your lipstick brings out a feeling you are all too familiar with, comfort.

The softness of her mouth against yours erases every other thought you might have in that moment and the only one left is Hanji. The way her fingers feel against your skin or how you are able to feel the beating of her heart, rhythmically matching yours.

All eyes now rest upon the two of you, carefully waiting for your next move. In this moment, underneath the bright lights of the ballroom and the gaze of every superior in the Military, you realize you belong to Hanji, body and soul.

“Cause I don't wanna lose you now

I'm lookin' right at the other half of me

The vacancy that sat in my heart

Is a space that now you hold”

Lips finally separating, she smiles brightly at you before spinning you one final time and carefully supporting your body weight as you fall into her arms. When she brings you back up, your faces are merely an inch apart.

Your chest rises and falls rapidly, trying to catch your breath while she touches her forehead to yours. After what it feels like an eternity, you are able to break out of the trance her intoxicating eyes had you in and you finally notice the two of you are the center of attention.

A burning sensation takes over your cheeks and you shift your focus towards Hanji’s expensive shoes but before too long, you feel her index finger brushing against your skin and resting underneath your chin while she places her thumb parallelly on top.

She gently forces your head up and welcomes your eyes with a bright smile. You can’t help but allow the corners of your lips to rise in return.

Before you have time to fall into yet another trance, you hear someone clear their throat behind you. Quickly, you turn around, consequently freeing yourself from Hanji’s embrace. The bald man with rosy cheeks gets closer to her, making sure she can hear him over the deafening beat of the band’s new song.

She simply nods and you watch him walk away. You flash Hanji a curious look and, in response, she brings her lips dangerously close to yours only to make a detour and place them by your ear.

“Let’s go outside.” She says, “I want to introduce you to a few more of my colleagues.”

You nod. Her warm breath hitting your skin now turns into the feeling of her lips biting your earlobe. A shiver goes down your spine and a part of you melts right then and there. She lets out a giggle before pulling away and grabbing your hand, gently guiding you towards the exit.

“Show me how to fight for now

And I'll tell you, baby, it was easy

Coming back into you once I figured it out

You were right here all along

It's like you're my mirror”

The cold wind hits your face as soon as you step outside but this time you are welcomed by loud laughs and the smoke from several lit cigarettes instead of the calming silence.

Hanji closes her eyes, taking a quick breath before making her way down the stairs, your hand now resting on her upper left arm.

From a small group emerges a man you have never seen before. The insignia on his chest indicates he’s a part of the Garrison but nothing more sticks out to you. He reaches for Hanji’s hand and she quickly obliges.

“This is my Y/N.” She says. You simply nod and smile at him.

As they strike a conversation, you wave your hand at one of the servers and grab one of the many glasses of wine they hold above a tray.

The liquid slides down your throat with ease as you try and focus on the words flowing around you. Hanji shoots you a concerned look, to which you simply squeeze her arm gently, wordlessly letting her know that you’re still there, and that you’re bored.

You wordlessly transmit what is going through your head by squeezing her arm repeatedly, “I. Want. To. Go. Home.” You pause for a few seconds, and then squeeze her one final time as if to say “please.”

In response, Hanji laughs into her cup, acting like she’s paying attention to whatever the man in front of you is saying.

Suddenly, you feel her hand sliding across your hips. It doesn’t rest there for long before quietly making its way down. A gasp escapes you once you feel the pressure of her grasping the flesh of your ass.

You shiver gently, trying to play it off as if you’re cold but the devious smirk on her lips is nearly enough to destroy your cover.

With each look she shoots you, you feel the world around you spin for a second. You’re not able to tell if you're drunk from the wine or from those intoxicating brown eyes.

“Well gentlemen, it has been a pleasure.” Hanji says, and nods at them gently, “But we have an early start tomorrow and I would hate to deal with the initiation ceremony while suffering from an awful hangover.”

The men burst into laughter all at once, so synchronized it reminds you of instruments in a symphony. You simply smile and wave them goodbye before rushly following behind Hanji.

As you wait for your ride, you pull her closer to you in order whisper to her, sweetly and desperately, “I need your fingers inside of me.”

Hanji looks at you out of the corner of her eye.

“Then my fingers inside of you is what you shall get, my lady.” She replies, lust filling her eyes. Her hand rests on your lower back, pulling you closer and destroying every inch of space between you two.

“My mirror staring back at me

I couldn't get any bigger

With anyone else beside of me

And now it's clear as this promise

That we're making two reflections into one”

Outside, all you can hear is the clopping of hooves against the pavement. Yet inside the carriage, the sounds of your moans fill the air.

You straddle Hanji on the carriage seat as your hands desperately unbutton her white shirt. Her blazer already lies forgotten on the empty seat across from you. The warmth of her fingers travels from your back to your ass, feeling the pressure of her squeeze as it drags a delighted sound out of you.

A smile takes over her lips before they shift to plant wet kisses on your jawbone. You groan quietly, your hands shaking as you push her now-unbuttoned shirt off, and you watch as the cloth slides down her arms.

Lifting your head, you wordlessly invite her to kiss your neck. She immediately obliges, her lips brushing against the area gently. She travels from your jaw to your collarbone and you melt against her touch much like snow in the sun.

Hanji giggles quietly, fully appreciating the savory image before her. You decide to use the break to your advantage and reach for her hand. You guide it towards your already soaked underwear and press her fingers into you.

Her fingertips brush lightly against the thin fabric of your lace underwear, dragging a prolonged moan out of you. Once she applies a bit more pressure right above your clit, you know you are done for.

Her middle and ring fingers move in small circles and a shiver travels down your spine. Instantly, you begin moving your hips against her, your arms wrapping around her neck as you try to balance yourself.

Once both of you quicken your paces, you begin to gasp desperately. Hanji’s face is buried in the crook of your neck, her warm tongue tracing along the dips of your skin.

The carriage comes to an abrupt stop. Hanji’s hands move towards your hips, securing you in place. As your eyes meet, she giggles, and it’s so heartwarming that it fills the air and brings the corners of your lips up into a smile. Seeing her like this awakens the hundreds of butterflies in your stomach.

You move your leg, allowing her to get up and open the carriage door. Your hands carefully examine the seat, looking for her blazer. Yet all you find is the imprint left by her ass. Once you feel the expensive fabric in your fingers, you grab it before making your way outside the door.

As you stand outside, Hanji’s left arm rests on your back while her right scoops your legs out from underneath you. She lifts your body up, and laughs loudly as she carries you towards the building. She backs into the heavy, brown doors while holding you in her arms, and stumbles inside of your house.

Standing in front of your room’s door, she shoots a look at you to silently ask you to turn the knob.

After turning on the lights, Hanji makes her way past the small wooden table in the middle of the room and carries you towards the bed. You pull her in by the neck, sealing your lips together in a kiss.

Your body is gently placed on the bed, kissing all the while. Her tongue gently explores your mouth and you crave for more of her touch, to feel her breath against your skin despite the smell of alcohol that lingers on her tongue.

Hanji laces her fingers with yours, and you notice how well they fit together like the pieces of a puzzle. You finally realize you need air and you mentally curse your lungs for their need to breathe, forcing your lips apart.

With a smirk, she pulls away, gently grabbing your wrist and placing your hand right above her heart. As you feel the beats, you could’ve sworn they were saying your name.

She plants a quick kiss on your lips before getting up, quickly unbuttoning her own shirt while making her way towards the door once again. A whimper leaves your body and your bottom lip quivers.

Hanji doesn’t say anything but simply locks the door before walking back to you, hands behind her back as she starts to remove her bra. A smile on your lips, you begin touching the fabric of your own dress before pulling it up your body.

The last thing you pay attention to before focusing solely on Hanji is the flicking light of the candle standing on the bedside table.

As she lays in bed with you, her hands quickly find their way towards your boobs, gently pinching your nipple in between her fingers while resting her face on your shoulder, wet lips leaving small, purplish marks on your skin.

All you’ve ever wanted was for Hanji to feel like you belong to her and tonight you will show her that you do, body and soul.

“Cause it's like you're my mirror

My mirror staring back at me, staring back at me”

#hanji x reader #hanji zoe x reader #hange x reader #hange zoe x reader #hange zoe/reader #my sunshine #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader #aot x reader #snk x reader #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #snk #aot smut?

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nightingaelic · 4 years ago

Note

Fallout 4 companions react to meeting Arcade Gannon?

Ever the curious neighbor, as soon as the sole survivor spotted the blonde, bespectacled man at the bar in the Dugout Inn, they drifted over and struck up a conversation. A drink or two later, the two were swapping tales about wasteland encounters, pointing at various holes in their travel clothes and pairing them up with fantastic backstories. When the sole survivor's companion finally swung open the door, they were given an inviting wave.

"Sit down!" the sole survivor encouraged them. "First round's on me. I'd like you to meet Arcade."

Cait: "Hiya handsome." Cait winked at the man in the lab coat and leaned on the bar. "I'm Cait. Never seen you around before. Where is it you're comin' from?"

"I, uh..." Arcade adjusted his glasses and ran a hand through his wavy hair. "West of here. Nowhere in particular."

"A free spirit, then? Just passin' through?" Cait looked him up and down. "Think the Science! Center might be lookin' for a new egghead, if those clothes aren't just for show."

Arcade tugged on his outfit self-consciously. "I thought it might keep Commonwealth raiders from shooting me on sight, if they thought I was a doctor."

Cait bobbed her head in a noncommittal way. "Or they might see you as an easy target. That is, if they don't spot that plasma pistol you've got in your back pocket."

Codsworth: "Hello to you, sir!" Codsworth exclaimed, bobbing excitedly. "Codsworth, at your service. Might I say, it is a fine occasion to meet someone nowadays who appreciates the importance of good hygience and care for one's appearance."

"Thank you," Arcade said, with a somewhat quizzical glance at the sole survivor. "And you belong to..."

"Well, I belong to him just as much as he belongs to me," the sole survivor jumped in to explain.

Codsworth waved them off. "Not to worry, the conventional assumptions are not unwarranted. I am happy to accompany and assist in wasteland adventures as necessary. When not necessary, I typically clean the house."

Curie: "Monsieur Arcade," Curie purred, with the special enthusiasm she reserved for introductions. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance. You can call me Curie. Have you been in Diamond City long?"

"Not long at all," Arcade replied, clearly intrigued by Curie's accent. “Parlez-vous français?"

"Oui, Monsieur!" Curie exclaimed. "Le français est si rare de nos jours. Où avez-vous appris?"

"Oh, um... des... des livres, principalement," Arcade stammered. "Books. It's not as good as my Latin, I'm sorry."

"Latin?" Curie switched gears instantly. "Etiam magis rara."

Arcade laughed. "Well, not where I'm from. Who are you? Linguists are practically unicorns, nowadays."

Curie sighed. "It is a long story. Perhaps we wait until Vadim brings the drinks, and we can compare notes?"

Danse: "Ad victoriam, Arcade." Paladin Danse shook the newcomer's hand with gusto. "Paladin Danse, with the Brotherhood of Steel."

Arcade's eyes narrowed. "Brotherhood of Steel?"

"That's correct, citizen," Danse replied proudly.

"Uh-huh." Arcade looked back to the sole survivor. "I had no idea they were in the area. Are you stationed in Diamond City?"

"Brotherhood operations are a strictly classified matter," Danse answered, furrowing his brow. "But our main base of operations is at the Boston airport, where the Prydwen is docked. You can't miss it."

"Well, that explains it." Arcade examined his drink, avoiding eye contact with the Paladin. "I didn't come in from the north. I'm sure it's a sight to see."

Deacon: "Nice to meet you." Deacon declined the handshake, instead crossing his arms and cocking his head to the side. "Nice tan. Been on the road long?"

"Too long," Arcade replied, retracting his hand and returning the calculated look.

Deacon grinned. "Alright, I won't pry. Welcome to Diamond City. Did Vadim try to poison you yet?"

"You watch it, John Doe!" Vadim shot back from halfway down the bar. "Or I call the guards, see if you actually do work the midnight shift, ya?"

"You can walk down to Danny's sign-up sheet for shifts and check yourself!" Deacon's grin grew wider. "And I'll tend bar. We'll see who can do a better job of it."

Dogmeat: Dogmeat approached the man's open hand, which he gave a good sniff. Soap, hot dust, a whiff of plasma cartridges: Nothing out of the ordinary. Satisfied, the dog opened his mouth to pant, tongue lolling, and accepted the scratch behind the ears.

Hancock: "Arcade, huh?" Hancock gave the man a winning smile and took one of the open stools. "I'm Hancock. First time in Diamond City? You're gonna love it here. Vadim and his brother really know how to knock you on the floor."

As if to demonstrate, Vadim delivered three shots of Bobrov's Best to the little group. "On the house," he offered. "Celebrating Mayor Hancock's newest business deal with yours truly."

Hancock threw his back, and when Arcade hesitated, he threw that shot back too. "Next one, buddy."

"Did he say Mayor Hancock?" Arcade asked. "Mayor of Diamond City?"

"Nah, nah." Hancock laughed. "God, wouldn't that be a riot. Ever hear of a town called Goodneighbor?"

MacCready: "Arcade." MacCready shook the man's hand warily. "Like the pre-war places that have a whole bunch of games inside them?"

"Actually, like the..." Arcade made a face. "You know what, never mind. Like the pre-war arcades, yeah."

"Oh, man." MacCready grinned. "There was this one I found once in the Capital Wasteland, mostly broken down of course, but it had one working machine in it. The Red Menace Whac-a-Commie. Someone took the whackers ages ago, but the little Red Menace guys still popped up and down. Duncan- my son- loved it."

Arcade chuckled. "Yeah, they're... they're fun. I found a Hoop Shot once, but the basketballs were all dried-up and flat."

"Gotta get yourself a Pip-Boy," MacCready replied, nudging the sole survivor's shoulder affectionately. "This one has a collection of mini-games for theirs. Atomic Command, Grognak & the Ruby Ruins, Pipfall... all the greats. Oh, I'm MacCready, by the way."

Valentine: "Nick Valentine. Pleased to meet you." Nick shook the man's extended hand with practiced warmth, giving him time to realize the metal grasp he offered was not a cybernetic, and the scar around his jawline was actually just where his synthetic skin ended.

True to form, the stranger's eyebrows shot up, his grip slackened and his mouth dropped open. "You're a... what are you?"

Nick gave him the standard line. "I'm a detective. But, if you're referring to the plastic and platinum bits, I'm also a synthetic man. All the parts, minus a few red blood cells."

"Whoa." Instead of the typical scramble to put some distance between the two of them, Nick was surprised to find Arcade's handshake tighten again at this explanation. "I've heard of people like you, but never thought I'd actually meet one. Er, well, one that was obviously living as a synth. Though I guess you don't have much of a choice, huh?"

Piper: "Arcade? Piper Wright." The reporter shook the newcomer's hand firmly. "So, what's your story? What brings you to the Great Green Jewel of the Commonwealth?"

"I uh..." Arcade looked flustered, despite Piper's encouraging smile.

The sole survivor came to his defense. "Leave him be, Piper, he just got into town," they scolded playfully.

"What?" Piper asked innocently. "Can't the town reporter ask questions around here without everyone telling me I'm being too nosy?"

"No."

"Town reporter?" Arcade perked up. "Is that your newspaper, on the way in? Public... something?"

"Publick Occurrences," Piper answered with pride. "Covering anything and everything worth hearing about that happens in the Commonwealth."

Preston: "Welcome to Diamond City, Arcade." Preston shook the man's hand warmly. "I'm Preston Garvey with the Commonwealth Minutemen."

"Minutemen?" Arcade asked, clearly unfamiliar with the term.

"We're citizen soldiers," Preston explained. "The people of the Commonwealth banding together to protect ourselves and decide our own future."

"So sort of like a free state?" Arcade straightened up. "Or do you have some kind of command structure?"

"Command structure." Preston chuckled and glanced at the sole survivor. "You're looking at it."

Strong: "Strong need to get moving," the super mutant replied, rubbing his big hands together. "Milk of human kindness not here."

Arcade took the mutant in with the air of someone who had dealt with somewhat-friendly specimens before. "I can ask the bartender if they have brahmin milk."

The sole survivor waved him off. "No, that's not what he-"

"Puny humans do not have milk!" Strong cut in.

"Wait, milk of human kindness?" Arcade looked confused. "Is that... Macbeth?"

The sole survivor sighed. "It's a long story."

X6-88: "Good afternoon." Rather than sit down, X6-88 adopted a protective stance of the sole survivor, completely ignoring the hand Arcade was offering. "I hope you know that if harm comes to this individual, your life will come to a swift end."

"Uh-huh." Arcade retracted his hand. "Bodyguard?"

"Of a sort."

Arcade turned to the sole survivor instead. "Is he always this much of a stick in the mud?"

They shrugged. "He's protective and slow to trust. Give him a bit and keep your hands where he can see them, you'll be fine."

X6-88 nodded. "Affirmative."

BONUS!

Ada: "Hello sir." Ada nodded her head in greeting. "I am Ada. I hope you are enjoying your stay in Diamond City. Did you experience any trouble getting to the stadium?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary," Arcade replied. "Sorry, you're an amalgamation I haven't seen before. Sentry bot and protectron parts for sure, but your head is..."

"An assaultron," Ada filled in helpfully. "I take it your region does not have many of these bots?"

"No, they seem to be more of an East Coast thing."

"Just don't get on her bad side," the sole survivor joked. "You don't want to be on the receiving end of an assaultron laser."

Gage: "Well hi there!" Porter shook Arcade's hand forcefully. "Porter Gage. Talked you into trying some of this swill, did they? Brave soul."

"It's not so bad," Arcade replied with a smirk.

"Oh sure, if you're lucky enough to have Scarlett bring it to you." Porter winked at the waitress, who paused in her service to flip him the bird.

"Mmm, not my type," Arcade admitted.

"Not your ty-" Porter blurted before putting two and two together. "Oh, gotcha. Well, there's always Hawthorne."

The raider waved to the adventurer in the corner, who waved back. Arcade sank as deeply into his stool as he could and blushed.

Longfellow: "Mmm." Old Longfellow rejected Arcade's handshake and took the offered seat, swinging around to face the bar. "Storm's comin' soon. Can smell it."

"Then it's a good thing we're inside," Arcade replied, his tone unsure.

Longfellow grunted his agreement and accepted the drink Vadim slid to him, downing it quickly.

The sole survivor scowled at him. "Guess he's not in a talkative mood today."

Maxson: "Elder Arthur Maxson of the East Coast Chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel." Maxson shook Arcade's hand confidently.

Arcade, on the other hand, looked like he was being violently pulled between an instinct to flee and an intense curiosity. Curiosity won out. "Maxson? Of the line of Captain Roger Maxson?"

"High Elder Roger Maxson," the Elder corrected him. "You know of him?"

"Well sure, everybody on the West Co-" Arcade stopped himself. "Never mind. What's an Elder doing in a dive like this?"

Maxson studied him intently, clearly sizing him up. "Shore leave," he finally answered, sliding into the offered seat.

Desdemona: Desdemona smiled coolly. "I know."

The answer took Arcade aback, but the sole survivor just rolled their eyes. "Dispense with the power plays for once, Dez. We're just trying to have a drink."

The Railroad leader raised an eyebrow, but she sat down. "Suit yourself. When did you arrive in town, Mr. Gannon?"

"Oh, for the love of..."

Arcade eyed her suspiciously. "I don't remember telling you my full name."

Desdemona lit up a cigarette. "You didn't. But I'm by far the friendliest person in the Commonwealth who's wondering why a Follower of the Apocalypse is all the way out here, across the continent."

118 notes · View notes

keilemlucent · 4 years ago

Text

lavender latte xi (no longer canon)

NOTE: Chapters X and XI are not longer considered canon in Lavender Latte.

....

(explicit, r18+)

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

|| series masterlist ||

word count: ~6.8k

beta’ed: @hawnks (thank u!! 💕)

heat in two ways

warnings: spicy content, a little bit of overstimulation. enjoy, loves ;^)

...

a/n: a little recap from last chapter, because its been awhile! keigo and reader ‘nested’ together after that nasty little panic attack from a few chapters ago. and now? guess you gotta see find out!! ;^) enjoy my loves!!!!

Things felt calmer, later. Your combined world had settled into the sheets with slumber.

Thank god.

When you both awoke, the sun was just beginning to set.

The light that filtered in from the cracks in the curtains was amber, painting orange streaks across your dark bedroom.

The two of you had shifted, somewhat, perhaps falling even deeper into the nest you’d made, the softness of it forming to the contours and curves of your snuggled-up bodies.

It was cozy, burrowing your face into Keigo’s chest, hardly awake and vaguely aware of the way his hands pressed wide against your lower back.

You felt melted in the best way.

“Comfy,” The word slipped from your lips without much thought, snuggling closer.

Your skull was no longer throbbing, neither was your hand or foot.

It just felt calm, the only sensations Keigo’s breath and heart, and the ambient hum of the rest of the world.

“Am I now?” Keigo chuckled from above you, voice crackling with sleep. “I have to say the same about you.”

You made a high sound in the back of your throat, shifting the slightest bit to drag your lips along his throat, bearing into the flesh with the barest drags of your teeth.

He shuddered, squeezing the fat around your hips.

Maybe it was that your mind was still somewhat raw, but you were feeling particularly gooey.

Maybe, it was that your mind didn’t have the will or the way to be too guarded, not when you felt so safe, especially in contrast to the hellish mindscape you’d been in hours before.

Not that you remembered it all that well— and good, you didn’t want to.

Your only bits of lucidity were in the present.

And god, did that feel good.

Keigo tended to wake up quickly.

It was just how he ticked, as tired as he was at any given time, he could always pull himself to wakefulness so quickly.

With you, all warm and fucking perfect against his side, it was both a blessing and a curse.

Sure, he could’ve gotten to sleepily awaken with you, if his body hadn’t startled him from REM sleep the moment you shifted and whined against him.

Though, being awake meant he got to watch you wake, and that in and of itself was a privilege he coveted.

It was new, even with the few ‘sleepovers’ the two of you had shared, all that sleepy peace was nearly untouched. The stillness and natural slowness of it was something that Keigo had come to crave.

He traced shapes against your ribs, leaning into the feel of you.

“How are you feeling?” His words were muffled into the top of your hair.

“Good.”

“Very descriptive.”

“‘M sleepy,” You truly whined, twisting your legs with his own. “Don’t wanna think right now, Kei’.”

He suppressed a shiver at the little nickname on your lips.

“That can be arranged,” Keigo hummed, pulling a blanket higher on your shoulders. “Do you want to keep sleeping? I can run out and grab some food?”

There was a moment of silence before you sniffled, burrowing your face into his neck.

Still so fragile.

“D-don’t leave yet, okay? Just a little more, please,” Your voice was pitched up with sleep, wobbling as Keigo felt the smallest tears begin to wet his sleep shirt.

His heart sank.

“I’m not leaving, not unless you ask me to,” He murmured into your hair. “I’ll keep telling you that as long as I need to.”

The multiple meanings of his words mostly went over your head, yet you felt overwhelming and instant relief of knowing that Keigo wouldn’t be leaving your nest on his own volition anytime soon.

The assurance made your heart swell, even if your tired mind couldn’t swim in the depths of his tone.

All the same, you sucked in a breath before pulling him down into a needy kiss.

It was reminiscent of the kind that you’d shared earlier. All desperate and clawing for grounding and stability in touch.

Keigo gave it freely in the same way you gave it without knowing.

He nipped at your bottom lip, relishing the high keen that pulled from the back of your throat.

You’d done this all before, heated kisses and much-needed touches, but there had always been a line to stay away from. Especially on such an intense day, the last thing Keigo wanted to do was push your limits.

But, maybe you wanted to.

You tugged at Keigo’s waves, snuggling closer in time with the way you kitten-licked into his mouth.

He groaned, shifting against you. You moved with him, craving him in any way you could get.

His leg shifted between your thighs. Immediately, you squeezed around it, feeling his own tight, lean muscle.

You’d gotten good at repressing your desire for his touch, barring yourself from any contact that could push past your threshold toward overstimulated disaster. Maybe, you had been overcautious, but it seemed better than scaring Keigo away with your potential shortcomings.

Wound together in the heat of your ‘nest’, though?

Your quirk and mind had already detonated and didn’t have anything left in you besides fumes. All that burned in your gut was the swell of want and heat.

You ground against him, barely, whining against his lips.

Your heart panged a bit when Keigo pulled back, lips wet and pupils wide.

He opened his mouth to speak, but you carefully rolled your hips against, the hardening bulge in his joggers pressing against your navel.

“I want to feel you,” It slipped out desperate and sticky as you locked your hands around the back of his neck.

It was more than okay, better than okay.

“I promise, I’ll stop us if anything gets to be too much,” You told him, a little more sheepish as Keigo stared up at you, wide-eyed.

His lips parted as his words got lost between his mind and mouth. His hands stayed still at his sides by sheer power of will.

“I just...” Your voice wobbled as you rubbed at your eyes. “Is this okay?”

You were too soft for too much, but Keigo didn’t mind; he never did.

“Very.”

He pulled you down by the collar of your shirt to show you how ‘okay’ it was.

Admittedly, he was needy with his touches. His palms cupped your ass, squeezing and massaging over your shorts. Keigo had been holding himself back in the weeks prior without issue, but getting more of you, in any way was intoxicating.

That was not to say that he didn’t keep in mind your fragile state, no, he just made sure his touch was firmer, and his breath ran hotter.

Sensation served as a gentle reminder that ‘Keigo was right there, and he wasn’t letting you go.

You kept a tight grip on his sweater as he flipped the two of you, nudging your booted-leg to splay out comfortably.

“Fank’ you,” You mumbled against his lips, chasing them for a moment as he drew away.

“Of course,” He pressed a kiss to your cheek, trailing lower to nip at your neck.

You whimpered when he reached a particularly sensitive patch

“This okay?” Keigo hummed.

“V-Very,” You replied, playing with the hem of his cropped sweater. “Please keep going.”

(Like you had to ask.)

You kept an eye on your fragile state, but with how little there was left in you and the quiet of the surroundings, there wasn’t much to watch. All you could feel was the roll and heat of each other’s bodies. There was nothing else to ring loudly in your skull.

Just Keigo and you, twisted up in each other and the bedding of your nest.

Perfect.

You snuck your hands up the back of his sweater, running your nails down his back, just barely teasing at the roots of his outstretched wings. Teasing him was easier than you’d thought it’d be, considering you knew how gooey he got any time you even got close to his wings.

The shudder he gave you was confirmation of that.

“Careful there,” Keigo warned with a chuckle. Despite his laughter, you could feel the way his breath stutter with each sweet touch.

“Why? Whatcha gonna do about it, Kei’?” You grinned back, smitten, as he stilled around your collarbones.

“There’s plenty I could do,” It was a warning, one that enticed you to no end.

“Oh yeah? Tell me about it.,” You challenged.

“I think you’d like that too much,” Keigo chuckled against your neck. “Seems you’re pretty excited already too, hm?”

A few of his fingers teased at the waistband of your shorts.

He wasn’t wrong.

(At all.)

You scraped your nails along the base of his wings and much to your joy, Keigo’s spine arched and he practically whimpered.

“Cute,” You snorted, rolling your hips up into his. “You’re not so tough, either.”

Something like a growl rumbled from the back of his throat.

“Hush, dove,” Keigo cooed, far too sweetly for how his hands were dipping underneath your shirt. “Neither are you.”

Both of you were so damn doughy for the other, the banter fell away. There was plenty of time for teasing, but both of you were thinking of a very different kind.

Before you could quip back, Keigo was palming at your breast, teasing your pebbled nipple. You bit your lip to suppress a whine, shots of pleasure turning you even gooier and pliant.

“I’m sure you’ve got plenty of soft points,” Keigo sounded all too pleased with himself as he hovered his face over yours. He gave a few slow blinks, pupils blown wide. “And I cannot fucking wait to find them all.”

...

If you hadn't soaked through your panties before, you certainly had now.

Keigo could do anything to you, you decided. Having him over you, all sleep golds and heat was warming your insides in the best ways.

And you wanted more.

You stared up at him, wide-eyed, and quickly melted as your shirt was pushed higher and higher. Every piece of you, raw and needy, wanted Keigo, needed him close, even closer—

And Keigo fed the flames your mutually hot desire without shame.

“I’ve really wanted to learn you like this,” His fingers slowly traced over your side, taking his time to watch you squirm. His voice slowed to drawl, “All the ways I can get you fucked off my touch.”

Oh, what a prospect.

The thought of Keigo wrecking you was only a smidge daunting. It was easy to forget any potential unease when you let your relax against his touch, imagining all of the things he could do to you.

God, did you want him to have his way.

“You’re welcome to t-try,” You gently challenged as Keigo hiked your shirt over your tits, teeth scraping over the skin of your neck once more.

With a chuckle, he lapped at your pulse point, “Gladly.”

Despite his confidence and your waning will, you weren’t to be outdone.

You wound your fingers into the small, fluffy feathers at the base of his wings, teasing the roots with the pads of your thumbs.

In the earlier weeks, you’d found Keigo to be surprisingly sensitive. He joked occasionally about touch-starvation, but you knew there was a fair amount of truth to it. There had to be, with how his breath hitched with even your lightest touch.

His wings were the culmination of that thrumming need and craving for contact, and you were more than willing to exploit this knowledge.

Keigo moaned against your neck with the stroke of your fingers, cursing under his breath. Your light massaging only seemed to spur him on, nails digging lightly into the soft flesh of your chest.

Despite the pricklings of pain, you still felt so soft.

You were too weak for him, all wound up in the softness of the bedding and him, in every sensory sense, to put up too much of your own front. He felt too good not to invite and urge closer.

You tugged him up by the hair on the back of his head, pressing your lips together and stroking your thumbs down his cheeks.

Keigo kept his hips mostly still but was very aware of his own ragingly hard cock. Maybe, he was leaking into his boxer.

Maybe.

You gasped against his lips, all breathy and sweet, “F-fuck, Keigo.”

His mind ran blank, white-hot from the pleasure of mere words.

He mentally repeated your words a few times, in your perfect cadence. The way your breath stuttered in your chest, the heat of your surrounding him, the softness of your body and the break in your voice—

No one had ever said his name like that before and God, did he want more of it.

He’d pull it from his lips as long as you’d let him.

You pulled away only to meet his eyes with your blown pupils and upturned lips.

He calmed himself at the sight, reminding himself carefully that the last thing he would want to do is push you over your invisible edge of overstimulation.

“You okay?” Keigo asked instinctively, running a hand through your hair to soothe any potential ills.

“I-I am, very okay,” You swallowed, “Two things, though.”

“Shoot.”

“One, can you lose this?” You fiddled with the hem of his sweater. “I’m not... sure how to get it off with your wings.”

Yes, yes, yes. Holy fuck.

Maybe, Keigo was acting a bit too needy, but he couldn’t make himself care. With the sweetness on your face and the insistence in your touch, you were right there with him.

Keigo immediately sat up over your hips, tugging his shirt from around the base of his wings.

He swore his heart was going to burst as he took in the absolutely love-drunk look in your eyes. Your throat bobbed as you took him in,

You reached up to run a hand along his navel, visibly swallowing, “Keigo... you’re so gorgeous— it’s kinda overwhelming sometimes. In a good way.”

Fuck his ego being ‘boosted’, more like inflated.

Maybe ego wasn’t the right word. His chest felt too full for it to just be some superficial sense of pride. It all felt too raw and sweet to just be some baseless confidence.

It was that earnestness of yours again, lighting him up from the inside out.

“Sweetness,” The name rolled off his tongue, new and comfortable. “You’re too kind, really. But, I gotta know, what was that second thing you mentioned?”

You blinked back your stupor, shaking your head.

“Uh, fuck, it made more sense before, sorry, it’s alright.”

Keigo frowned, lowering himself back down to brace his arms on either side of your head.

“Nah, tell me, dove. I want to know.”

You bit your lip, turning your head and gaze away. Keigo tapped your chin back to center, nuzzling into your nose with his own.

“You sure?” You asked softly, hand trailing up and behind his shoulders.

“Of course.”

“Earlier it just seemed like you were... uh—” You averted your gaze again. “Holding back is all. On my neck. You don’t need to.”

Keigo cocked his head to the side, “What do you mean?”

“Like...” You were struggling to get the words out, face heating up. “I would really like it if you marked me up a bit, you know. In that sense. You know?”

The gears turned in his mind, something burning deep in his chest.

If his cock wasn’t rock hard before, it was now.

The thought of marking you, his sweet, somewhat injured partner (mate), up in the comfort of the nest the two of you made together made something stir in his gut and mind.

And fuck, if he wasn’t going to act on it.

Keigo fully slipped your shirt off, trying to take in as much of you with his eyes before his hands and mouth got their turn.

Hungrily, he wound a hand into the hair on the side of your head, pulling to bear your neck shoulder full to him. With a growl, his teeth raked over your neck, hard enough that your moans cracked as they fell.

Without thought, Keigo spoke, earnest and hushed, “You have no fucking idea how much I want to wreck you, do you?”

You swallowed, “Show me then.”

...

That honesty was going to be the death of him and you, he was sure of it.

Keigo held nothing back as he sucked and bit along your neck and shoulders, leaving bruises and marks in his wake wherever he could.

The little glimpses of red and purple had him scalding under his skin.

Much the same for you, notably.

“Fuck, Keigo!” You gasped when he sucked a bruise onto the underside of your breast, lips moving to the bud of your nipple later to massage and suck and tease and generally make you undone.

Your cunt physically ached with the need to be touched, the little bit of friction you could manage from grinding against Keigo pelvis was something, sure, but hardly enough.

Not to mention you wanted to feel more of him too.

“C-Can I touch you? Please?” You asked, breathless and pushed yourself up on your elbows.

Keigo pulled your shirt up and over your tits, panting.

Idly, he traced over the hickeys and bites he’d left.

“How do you want to touch me, dove?”

He left the question open, eyeing you with a half-lidded, nearly black gaze.

You swallowed down any fears you might’ve had, body thrumming, but quirk sufficiently dormant.

You slid your hand between the two of your bodies, cupping Keigo’s cock over his sweats.

“However makes you feel good.”

Keigo’s expression nearly broke, but he retained his composure, barely between his ragged breaths and hungry eyes.

“Can I suck your cock? Please?”

Keigo couldn’t hold back the way his eyes rolled into the back of his head.

You, begging for his cock, bruised and bitten all for him with the sweetest whine to your voice.

“P-please, dove, please.”

Oh, to hear Keigo beg for your mouth, for your touch— for you.

You obliged eagerly.

Keigo slipped off his joggers, palming himself through his boxer as he kneeled in the bedding. His wings had assembled themselves more fully, the red plumage outstretched and almost rippling with the heat of the room.

You knelt below him, mouth watering.

“You sure, sweetness?” Keigo asked, giving you a last chance.

“Very, please, let me make you feel good,” Your voice nearly broke.

It was all the confirmation you needed.

Nimble fingers pulled down the front of his boxers, cock springing up, pearly and wet on the head.

He was curved and thick, darker in the head with a bit of well-groomed blond trimming patched around the base. His balls were fattened, swelling with need and hot to the touch.

Part of you wanted to make a joke, crack some line about how ‘excited’ Keigo was, but your bodily reaction was far louder.

You thumbed at the head of his cock, biting your lip as Keigo tossed his head back, cursing under his breath.

You wanted to hear more of him breathing your touch, you had to.

Leaning forward, you licked away the preek before spitting back onto his cock.

Keigo had to be fucking dreaming because his cock was in your mouth and you were doing so well.

He babbled out sweet praises as you swallowed around him, twisting your wrist and the base and bobbing your head. You always felt so good, but this was a new kind of good, the kind that made his balls tighten and head light.

“W-woah, dove,” He could feel how close he was as he buried a hand in your hair. “Slow down—”

You pulled off his cock was a pop, looking up at him with tear-pricked eyes, “Don’t you wanna come down my throat, Kei’?”

He audibly whined, stroking a finger down the softness of your cheek with a slow nod.

Like that, you were licking up the underside of his cock, pulling him back into your mouth.

His hands tangled into your hair, not pulling too much or too hard, only bracing himself on you as you dragged him closer and closer to the edge.

Keigo reached a gasping end as your nose brushed against his navel, painting your throat white in ecstasy and god, did you let him. His wings stretched and puffed outwards, shuddering and twitching with his high as he choked out a moan against his clenched fist.

Your nails left crescent indents on his hips as he pulled you off his cock, drool and spittle dripping from him and off of your own chin.

You were certain you looked fucked out and fuck, did you feel it.

Blinking up at him with teary eyes, you cracked a wide smile.

“Dove, you’re so good,” Keigo dropped from his knees to smother you in the best possible way. “So, so good.”

He meant it.

He peppered your face with kisses, wiping and licking away any spare spit that stickied your chin. There was so much care in his actions, considering how fucked out he was and filthy the two of you were.

Not that either of you minded.

Keigo had you on your back again, surrounded by softness, as a brief reprieve.

“How was that?” You asked cheekily. “Feeling good?”

“So good, dove,” Keigo sighed, lowering himself against you. “That being said, could I help make you feel good?

You swallowed, assessing yourself.

Your panties were soaked, thighs sticky beneath your shorts. You knew you were ambiently squirming for a fucking crumb to satisfying your craving and need for touch, for him.

“Y-yes,” You stuttered, something akin to relief rushing through you. “Please.”

Keigo didn’t need to be told twice.

His head spun, pleasantly love-drunk in all the best ways. With you splayed out below him, heat singing in your cheeks and heat at the surface of your skin wherever his fingertips drifted.

“Get comfy, dove,” Keigo pushed lightly on your sternum, encouraging you back into the plushness of the nest. He allowed himself a moment to compose himself, trying to calm the tremble in his hands.

Maybe he was a little... nervous.

Not for any good reason. He knew his own prowess, and he was confident that he could easily make you come undone in any number of ways.

The anxiety tied up in his gut and his own perked up arousal made his palms go clammy.

The source of it all was also splayed out before him.

It was you, and that made this feel a hell of a lot more important than any of his previous trysts.

He was stumbling.

You noticed.

Keigo’s jaw tightened visibly, and he chewed at his lip—

All he needs is a little push.

An idea formed in your head.

“Hey, Keigo? Can we try something?”

“Anything,” His gaze refocused, alight and rewarming.

And, God, was his voice fucking desperate and dripping with something hot and infectious.

You stopped your hand at the waistband of your sleep shorts, sinfully soft and thin.

With a shaking breath, you cracked “I-I know I could get overwhelmed, but I trust you, you know? I love you.”

Your breaths hitched in time with each other.

“I love you too,” Keigo’s exhale matched yours, hands finding their home on your hips, “So much.”

The words had a lot in them for how new they were, and you only wanted more held in each syllable.

And preferably, something stuffing your cunt.

You bit your lip, sliding your hand closer to your aching sex, silently praying you’d get your words right.

“Tell me what to do.”

There was a moment of quiet as you tore your gaze from Keigo and you immediately cursed yourself.

“I-I mean–” You tried to backpedal.

Keigo was quick to hush you with a kiss, something deep that made you shudder.

“Elaborate,” As he pulled away, he stayed close, thumbing at your burning cheeks, “How far do you want me to take that statement, dove?”

“Like...” You kept your confidence as strong as you could. “Tell me how to touch myself.”

Keigo was silent for a moment, a shaking breath dripping from his lips as his feathers in all their places practically writhed.

“Gladly.”

Keigo pulled himself together, despite how weak-kneed he felt. His breath out over the back of your neck, his words curling against your ears as he watched your hand linger near your neglected cunt.

Pity.

“First, shorts off.”

You nodded, wiggling out of the soft fabric with Keigo’s help, though he made sure to keep your panties on. Ideas were spinning in his skull, too many, probably, but it wasn’t too hard to narrow down particular pleasures that you obviously needed.

The vulnerability of it all made your insides twist.

How long had it been since you were this bare with another person...

A while.

You had to be gentle with yourself.

And Keigo needed to be soft with you.

He pulled you from your thoughts with a coo, tracing little nonsense shapes on your stomach from between your parted thighs.

“Dove,” Keigo dripped something that made your insides boil. “Touch yourself a little for me. Just over your panties, tease yourself. I want to see you .”

You keened in the back of your throat, going to mush in his arms as two of your fingers traced over the wet patch on your panties.

(Keigo mentally stored that you got off on being told what to do, suppressing the way his eyes wanted to roll back into his skull and ignoring the way his dick switched..)

One of his broad hands ran over your hips, squeezing the fat of your thighs as he coaxed you onto your back.

It was more vulnerable for you like this, almost entirely exposed to him, but in the lowlight and softness of the room, it wasn’t nearly so intimidating.

It helped that within moments, your lips caught his, a moan muffled into his mouth.

As you broke apart, Keigo tugged at the elastic of your panties, “You’ve already gotten these pretty messy, hm? Let’s get them off.”

They followed your shorts onto the floor.

Keigo let his wings do as they pleased as he took you in, watching your expressions, feeling your breath and heartbeat with each twitch of your body.

It was like putting together some divinely crafted puzzle.

He meant it, ‘learning you’, and your suggestion of guiding your own getting off was the perfect time to sample your pleasures, mutually.

You pulled Keigo from his thoughts with a kiss, snaking out a hand to grab his, and pressing it between your thighs.

“Oh? You want me to show you now?” Keigo murmured against your lips, tracing patterns on your thighs.

“P-please.”

Keigo clicked his tongue, eye half-lidded, “You know, I could get used to you begging.”

Any retort died on your lips as he slid two fingers up and down your slit, stopping to roll and circle your clit.

Pleasure burned across your insides in the best way.

You’d craved his touch in this way for so long, why had it taken so long to let him touch you like this?

Maybe, the barest bits of your quirk activated as he rose from your side to slide down your body, little kisses and touches in your wake. Your mouth filled with sweet cream and cinnamon as you caught his gaze, burning and doughy all at the same time.

One of his fingers crooked into your cunt and you swore you saw stars and sweet fruits from that alone.

“Oh, good, dove, let it out,” Keigo’s voice felt too sweet, perfectly, as he kissed your thighs, heating you through and through.

It was all so tender, you could feel stray tears leaking down over your temples.

When was the last time someone touched you like this?

(Never.)

Keigo was supposed to be fast and frizzy, but nothing about the way he licked your cunt was even close to that. He was supposed to be flighty, but with the way he laid between your thighs, sucking at your clit and stretching you on his fingers, he was anything but.

Your hand buried in his hair, your ground against his face, thighs squeezing his cheeks. The heat of it all burned you in the best way, singed you with syrupy fire that you’d wholly let consume you.

“K-Keigo!” Your voice shattered as he massaged at your insides in time with the stroking of his tongue.

You’d thought he’d tease, but he was enjoying this as much as you were, wrapped up in it all.

With your eyes screwed shut, you couldn’t see the way his wings wrapped around and hid the two of you from the world. You couldn’t see how he’d shift his gaze to your slack jaw and watery eyes, all fucked out and open-mouth.

Each sensation of you around him, in the comfort of the little nest you’d made together, made him wild.

Keigo had wondered briefly, how love worked, considering he didn’t know much about it. Not beyond what he’d seen in movies and books, or the fragments of it from his own upbringings. None of his old flings ever held anything close to how he felt towards you.

Love was different than all of what he knew, which is probably what made it so easy.

He had a blank slate to etch with you, and god, if he wasn’t excited.

And only a piece of that was the way he fucked his fingers into your cunt, the wet sounds mingling in his ears with your high moans and little pleads. He could feel you fluttering around his fingers, practically pouring into his mouth.

He drank each drop of you down.

It was all so good—

Too good.

Each touch was like sweet flames, pouring down your throat to your toes and cunt, stirring you up and never letting you settle. Keigo’s tongue and touch were heaven, sweet relief and addicting in every way.

Except when the embers became too hot, burning you instead of warming you. The honey in your mouth went stale and the cinnamon singed like broken glass.

You’d passed over your threshold.

It happened so suddenly, you felt like you were drowning. Your moans choked in your throat, stuffed with wet wool. You grappled with sensation, eyes going wide as your chest began to heave. Burning and floating, you threw your arm over your eyes.

You tried to take a deep breath, but all of the sensation flowing through your fried body weighed too heavily to be fought through.

“W-wait, stop.”

...

Everything had already gone still.

Keigo was far too perceptive and sensitive to let you slip too far.

“You’re okay, we can stop, whatever you need,” Keigo rose, pulling a stray blanket over you as he scrambled for other ways to comfort you.

You reached down, shaky and teary, “N-no more, please, can I hold you?”

Any sort of barriers of shame or reluctance were gone, now that you were fried through and through.

Keigo was at your side in a moment, carefully tucking you into his side after some insistent tugging at his biceps.

“I’ve got you,” He hushed you, pressing his wet lips over your damp crown. “Big breaths.”

“Uh-huh,” You clung to his words, sucking down his scent of sweat and comforting spices. “Big breaths.

Keigo rubbed your back and shoulders as firmly as felt right, resting his chin over your head as you shook against him.

“I promise, I don’t get overstimulated this much,” You whispered in his chest. “This is ridiculous.

“You’ve had a long day, dove,” Keigo reminded you with a laugh. “The fact that you almost came is impressive.”

“... You could tell I was close?”

“Of course. I love you, dove, you know?” Keigo breathed, almost soundless, mostly to himself. “I gotta know that kind of stuff.

But, the room was too quiet and far too still for the words to not to be noticed.

“I love you too,” You kissed the underside of his chin, the stubble still sticky with you. Maybe it was a bit gross, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. With your own light giggle, you shook your head. “I can’t believe my quirk edged me.”

Keigo’s chest rumbled for a moment before he squeezed you, hard, busting into a full fit of laughter that you couldn’t help but join.

And it felt so good.

The last spinnings of your quirk faded as you caught your breaths, Keigo’s airy giggles tickling your nose and sending trailing touches at the base of your spine.

As you caught a glimpse of his bare, dewy chest rising and falling and the sweetest smile you’d ever seen stretched across his lips, you decided you’d do anything to keep it there whenever you could.

A mission of goodness, as pure and idealistic as it was.

Neither of you minded.

You both rested, for however many moments, until you both were able to shift, still leaning into each other, but rising up in your nest.

You wore a sheepish smile as you tucked a bit of Keigo’s unruly waves from his face, “Wanna try that again sometime?”

He went literally soft, leaning into you.

“Anytime,” Keigo kissed your wrist. “You’re perfect, you know that?”

“So you say.”

“And I’ll keep saying it—”

Keigo’s hands squeezed your thighs as he pounced, pushing you back into the sheets, pressing kiss after kiss to your salty cheeks, wings fluttering above the two of you.

It was all perfect, truthfully and truly.

The way you spent the rest of the night held by each other, not as heated as before, but still, just as safely and comfortably. Over a bit of takeout, an endless amount of banter and laughter, and a goodnight’s sleep, you were both feeling miles better than the days and hours before.

It was all as perfect as it could get, between the two of you.

(But, perhaps, the inevitable details would come into play. Perhaps.)

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

Keigo felt refreshed for the first time in months when he arrived at his agency the next morning.

He’d gotten to wake with you slowly for once, what a fucking treat, he was sure he’d never tire of it with you pressed again him. After some rolling, early morning kisses, he packed up his things and tucked you back into the nest of sheets to rest as much as you needed.

You’d been quick to drift off, a few of his stray feathers staying close by even in your slumber.

Despite how energized he was, he was sipped on the canned coffee (had it always tasted this bad?) and preparing for his office day.

He waved to his interns, smiling something real with a pep in his step as he entered his seldom used office.

As Keigo organized himself, he practically had to dust off his far-too professional looking desk before setting his bag down, and starting up his computer.

The door clicked open moments later, and a ruffled-looking Akane gave him a stern look from the doorway.

“Hello, Hawks. I need to talk to you—”

“Paperwork will be done by noon, don’t you worry about that,” Keigo laughed off her oblivious irritation as he clicked into his desktop. “I know taking a personal day isn’t really my thing— “

“It isn’t, and this isn’t about your paperwork.”

She reached behind her to click the lock in place.

Keigo’s gaze drifted to the diamond insignia on her breast pocket, almost twin to the one he wore on his bodysuit.

Both wards of the same beast, one could say.

When he was younger, still being trained so ruthlessly, they assigned him ‘handlers’, like some sort of animal. Once he’d gotten his own agency, he’d been assigned Akane, raised and trained in a similar way he had been. Another product of a failed system and an opportunistic, greedy power structure.

They understood each other in that way.

“I said I needed to talk to you two days ago and I meant it,” Akane sighed, shaking her head and approached his desk. “I’ve managed to cover you so far, but I need an answer.”

“...About?”

It wasn’t like her to be cryptic.

Akane fished around in her side bag for a tablet, clicking it to unlock and tapping.

“I know there are things you do that the bosses don’t even tell me about, and that’s how I justified all of this, continually.”

She placed the tablet in front of Keigo, an image displayed and glowing.

His eyes went wide when he saw the picture.

It was him, flying to your balcony. It was late, the warm glow of the nearby streetlights half-illuminating his face, even from far away.

Akane scrolled to another picture, much the same, except taken in daylight.

Keigo bit the inside of his lip to keep on his plastic smile as Akane scrolled through picture after picture, all of him coming and going from your apartment.

A pit was growing in his stomach.

“We’ve been paying tabloids off, blacklisting folks. I know you’ve had a lot on your plate and have been particularly distracted, so I put it on work we aren’t allowed to know about. Still, I wanted some confirmation.”

Keigo’s heart dropped like lead slick with mercury in his chest, a poison feeling spreading over his gut—

“It didn’t seem right though. And then I got some confirmation with this one— “

The next picture made him burn.

“It’s from yesterday morning.”

Yesterday morning.

From the balcony window, the early light was perfect to see directly and clearly into your apartment.

It captured Keigo kneeling on the floor, wings slack and resting on the floor, softened with a concerned quirk in his lips.

He held your forearm in his, pressing an obvious kiss to the back of your bandaged hand.

And then there was you.

You.

Teary-eyed, even in the photo, haggard and tired, but still obviously looking at him with love that made Keigo break in his ribs.

“We caught this one last night. Your publicist is pissed, but I covered for you. That being said, I need an answer. I’m not blind.”

His mouth went dry.

“Who the hell is that, Hawks?”

...

The two of you hadn’t talked about this yet.

The publicity of your relationship, if and when, was something that had been alluded to, but never deeply conversed about. There was too much glowing new love and healing being done to worry about the details.

But now, the details were staring him in the face.

Thank god for his training, and his ability to keep his expression even.

“Sorry about all that!” He laughed, leaning back and propping up his feet. He pushed away the tablet with the toe of his boot. “Just some work and play for a mission. It’s been getting a little... interpersonal, if you know what I mean.”

He wiggled an eyebrow to really sell himself.

Akane met his express with a dry glare.

“... And you took a personal day for that?”

An incongruence.

Keigo kept on his sickly smile as Akane sized him up.

“Had to be nonchalant, right?”

He was coming to hate lying, after being so intimately around your candor.

The feeling of illness in his chest grew.

Sentiment was terrifying.

“... Right,” Akane ran a hand through her hair before taking back the tablet. “I won’t say anything, and I’ll tell your publicist to keep doing what she’s doing. Just try to be less obvious about all of this... ‘interpersonal work’.”

She wasn’t convinced.

Maybe Keigo had become a shittier actor, or maybe Akane had just come to know him too well.

Akane fished around in her bag, pulling forth a small piece of folded paper. She placed it on his desk, and slid it until it bumped his boot.

“Just in case you’re interested, these are the names of the photographers responsible. Do with that what you will.”

She gave him a darkened look as he sat up, unfolding the note and taking in the names.

They wouldn’t be hard to find, if needed.

“Thank you, Akane. I appreciate it.”

“Of course.”

She turned to leave, but paused, hand hovering over the door handle.

“Hawks?” Her voice went more gentle than he was used to. “I mean it, I won’t say anything. To anyone. Just... whoever they are to you, be careful, alright?”

Akane’s gaze drifted back to his, a sharpness there that she’d been hiding.

Knowingness.

Despite the smile he still managed to wear, his must’ve looked quite grim as Akane left his office, leaving him in the almost silence with plenty to stew over.

+++++

💕 tipjar 💕

+++++

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#salem writes #hawks x reader #hawks #hawks imagines #takami keigo #hawks x you #hawks reader insert #hawks smut #i can finally tag that lol #lavender latte #kisses loves #hope u enjoy!!!

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mackeydoodledoo · 4 years ago

Text

The Fifth Lord: Chapter 6

Pairing: Alcina Dimitrescu and (Fem!Dragon)Reader [non-romantic], Bela Dimitrescu x (Fem!Dragon)Reader

Summary: Your name is Y/n Dracul; The only ‘mutant’ that doesn’t have the Cadou Parasite. You already have some sort of power that impressed Mother Miranda; you were the first known Human-Dragon Hybrid. Although you have your own house, “House Dracul”. Your ‘house’ itself is basically an unused wing of Castle Dimitrescu.

Warnings: Heartbreak, sadness, game spoilers [I’m sure everyone has watched or played Village]

A/N: So, Shit’s about to go down here!

“Three Dragon Slayers” - Yasaharu Takanashi [Play this when Y/n says: “You’re wrong Miranda.”]

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

As you watch Heisenberg lose to Ethan Winters. You had the moment of realization that you were truly alone; The Last Lord standing. However, it didn't hit you as hard as it did when Ethan killed Alcina and her daughters. You decided to find Duke so you left, flying about until your wings got sore from the cold.

"Lord Dracul," The Duke calls out to you

You look up and see him, "Duke... I need you to give me Lady Bela's remains..."

"I’m afraid that comes at a high price my lord," he sighs, "However since you are a lord and she is your love..."

He reaches back into his carries and lugs out a Crystal Torso. You look down and notice Bela's fly squirming around.

It's Bela's scent....

You immediately reach for the torso and let it fall into you.

"Thank you Duke," you say, calmly

"What is your plan Lord Dracul?" He asks

You stop in your tracks and turn your head, your mouth visible to Duke.

"Paying Mother Miranda a visit," you say, more sternly, "Someone's gotta pay..."

You make your way to the bridge and you set down Bela’s torso. You take off your jacket and place it around the torso. Bela’s fly peeks its hear out from your inside pocket.

“You’ll be okay,” You gently pat the fly, “You’ll be warm. Keep your body safe until I return for the both of you okay?”

The fly submerges itself into the sherpa-lined inside pocket.

“You have your body back...” You slightly smile

However, right as you stand up, you meet Ethan. Who cocks his gun at you.

“Listen,” You sigh, “If I help you get your daughter, you help me kill Miranda...”

“I-I thought you were on her side?” He asks

“Not really,” You say, looking across the bridge, “Though it was true she did spare me. But it was Dimitrescu who had raised me. I only trust her and her daughters. But with what you did- I’ll let it slide this once.”

You almost got your vengeful self get the best of you but you knew he was the only one who could wound Miranda enough for you.

“Deal,” He says

“One condition,” You add, “If I ever see you step foot into the castle again I cannot guarantee that I won’t kill you.”

He nods at your condition. The both of you walk across the bridge where you are met with some of the ghouls Miranda had reanimated to keep the both of you stalled.

“Go forward,” You tell him, “I’ll keep these fools busy...”

You press your palm against his back and push him forward as your fists begin setting aflame.

“I’ll meet you there!” You yell at him

“Thank you, Lord Dracul!” He says, referring to you for the first time

You smirk at his gratitude. But, you notice some ghouls beginning to reach Ethan before he could walk through Miranda’s vines.

“Oh no you don’t!” You roar, breathing fire

It felt like grueling work when you finished off the ghouls. You manage to blast through to them however, a bunch of them guarding the entrance.

“You guys don’t know when o give up huh?” You ask them

You squat down, your feet beginning to create two circles of fire. They began growing to for around your body. You sprung your legs to give yourself a propelled launch, singeing the reanimated ghouls.

“MIRANDA!!!” You scream, your fist setting aflame once more

You used the fire emitting from your feet in an attempt to send a painful punch to Miranda’s face. However, in that attempted punch, Miranda catches it.

“I thought you were killed in the Castle” Miranda taunts you

“You were mistaken,” You growl, “I’m going to make you pay for what you did to my family...”

“‘Family’?” Miranda laughs at your comment, “You’re saying- that tall vampire woman and her three rabid children are your family?”

Both of your fists ignite and you roar. You fly over to her and again try to punch her for what she told you.

“They raised me!” You scream, “They gave me what you did not!”

“And what is that?” She asks, still trying to taunt you, “They were nothing but pawns to my entire plan. They never loved you.”

That’s not true...

You and Miranda stop fighting and look around.

Alcina?!

Miranda punches your gut and you let out a pained grunt. You clench at your gut and stagger back.

“Agh!” You cough out blood

You suddenly feel four different palms against your back.

We got you love.

Bela?...

Kick her ass for us!

Daniela?

Make her pay!

Cassandra?...

You smile, for the first time in hours, you smiled genuinely.

“You’re wrong Miranda,” You say, a circle of fire forms from your feet up, “They gave me the family I never had. They’ve shown me... Even as part monster, they’ve shown me love. You? You gave me nothing...”

Your eyes spark fire in their reflections once more and you launch yourself at her. Your first emits more fire than the last time. Miranda once more catches it in her palm, but she was struggling to hold it back. You could feel the shakiness in her arm as you try to punch her with more force than the last.

“This-this is betrayal!” Mother Miranda yells, trying to hold back one of your flamed fists, “I am the Black God! My power is immeasurable compared to yours! You are a weak dragon!”

You smirk, “Is that so?”

Your entire body begins setting aflame, a bigger one than you could ever emit, “Then I’ll just have to prove you wrong right now! Let’s see how much of a ‘god’ you really are shall we!?”

You yank your fist away from Miranda’s grasp. Before she could send you a punch out of fight or flight instinct, you simply catch it and hold it in a single hand. Unlike Miranda, whose arm was shaking as she tried to hold out your punch, you stand there; solid as a rock. No movement in your body what so ever.

“This cannot be!” She yells at you, “I am far more superior in power than you could ever be! This is the power I used to control all of you!!”

“Didn’t you forget?” You ask Miranda, “You didn’t experiment on me! You have no control over me!”

“Alcina and her daughter Bela do!” She tries to taunt you again

“You keep their names out of your mouth!” You snarl

You foot turns ablaze and you try to leg swoop her. She blocks your foot with slight ease and throws you back. You’re thrown into a tree trunk and you fall onto the ground; chest first. You wheeze out for air as you struggle to stand up again.

“My power is complete y/n!” She tries to intimidate you, “This is the power I will use to kill you since you no longer serve any purpose to me!”

You force yourself to stand up and you begin walking towards her, slowly and menacingly.

“Well then,” You start, smirking and setting your entire body ablaze, “I’ll use my power to fight for my family that you killed!”

You dragon roar, breathing fire. You roll dive when Miranda uses her other clawed hand as a spear in an attempt to impale you. You breathe fire once more, setting fire to one of her arms.

“You’ll pay for killing the people I’ve ever loved!” You scream, “The only ones who accepted me as I am; The Devil’s Dragon!”

“I should have infected you with my parasite!” She says, regretfully, “I should have had you brainwashed when I gave you a second chance!”

“You did give me a second chance, you are right about that,’“ You say, “But- it was Alcina who had raised me as I am... Bela was the one who loved me as I am... Cassandra and Daniela never saw me as a monster! Unlike you?... You used all of us! I’ll never forgive you for using them!”

Your roar was loud enough to shake the ground.

“Fire Dragon’s Art! Exploding Flame Edge!” You yell, your fire turning into spiked strings of fire, beginning at your clenched fists

You whip them around and it creates an exploding edge. You let them settle around Miranda as she begins being set ablaze. You listen to her scream in agony as she begins to crystalize.

“You- Betrayed the lords!” She yells

“I’m the last lord standing!” You scream

She lets out one final scream in an attempt to get you however she only crystallizes. You let out a cough of smoke. You sigh in relief but clench at your stomach.

“Damnit...” You growl, noticing blood seeping through your shirt and the feeling of your shirt sticking to your body

You turn around and notice another man, his gun pointed at you. You were prepared to fight him too before Ethan grunts.

“Let her go Chris...” Ethan wheezes for air, “She helped..”

Chris places his gun back in his holster.

“Fine, we have to get you and Rose out of here,” He says, forcing Ethan to stand, “I’ve planted a bomb nearby. It shouldn’t blow the castle. I’d suggest you get back there as soon as possible because when I pull this trigger-”

Chris holds up a detonation device to show you, “This place is going to blow. But- I thought you were working for Miranda.”

“Things change when she kills the family that accepts me as I am,” You explain, “Good luck you two.”

You nod to Chris as you didn’t want to stick around to find out how the device worked. You begin flying back across the bridge to get Bela’s remains and go home. However, with one last effort, Miranda pierces and rips a small slit in your wings. Making you stagger fly a lot worse compared to when Ethan had shot a hole into the same wing tissue. Miraculously, you crash landed right in front of the torso. You immediately wrap your jacket in it and warm it as you begin running into the direction of the Castle.

“Lord Dracul!” Duke calls out for you, “Into my carriage!”

You practically dive into the back of his carriage and he begins motioning for his horse to ride back to the castle. It was a bumpy ride however, you still held onto the torso for dear life, not willing to let it go. Even though you were the one getting tossed around.

“My Lord, are you alright back there?” He asks

“As well as I can be,” You groan from the bumpy ride

“My apologies My Lord,” He says, “I didn’t want to get caught up in that explosion there.”

“Yeah, me neither,” You sigh, “Hey, how long until we’re at the castle?”

“Almost there my lord,” He answers

As you wait for him to tell you that the both of you had arrived, you peek into your inside jacket pocket. Sighing in relief when you see Bela’s fly peeking back up at you.

“You’re safe,” You smile, tearing up, “Thank god...”

You pet its head as it tries to snuggle into your warm finger. You and the fly continue fueling each others’ comfort until you felt the carriage stop.

“We’ve arrived my lord,” Duke calls to you

Chapter 7

#daniela dimitrescu #resident evil village #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #female reader #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu x reader #house heisenberg #house moreau #house beneviento #house dimitrescu #donna beneviento #salvatore moreau #karl heisenberg #mother miranda

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iclaimedtobethebetterbard · 4 years ago

Text

snakes & silliness

Fandom: Sanders Sides Characters: Janus, Remus, Patton Rating: Teen & up Relationships: Intrualiceit, with a focus on Dukeceit Warnings: Language, some innuendo, both mostly courtesy of Remus. Word count: 2297

Read on AO3!

My writing masterpost

Starlight Universe masterpost

Dukeceit Week 2021 start - previous - here - next - masterpost

Summary: The selecting of a first family pet is a very important matter. Almost as important as making Janus grin and blush in the middle of the reptile section. Luckily, Remus and Patton take both of these tasks as seriously as they should.

Notes: Day 3 of Dukeceit Week 2021! @dukeceitweek Takes place in my Starlight Universe, where each piece can be read without any context. Takes place 4 or 5 years post-college. Remus, Janus, and Patton all use he/they pronouns.

–

Remus locked the car doors behind them as he, Janus, and Patton began to make their way across the parking lot towards the pet store. “What shall we name it?” he inquired, offering one hand to each of his partners.

Patton lit up. “I don’t know… Snakey!”

Remus pursed his lips. “Sure, but I was thinking, like, something cool. Like… Mouse Killer.”

“No, that’s sad!” Patton shook his head. “What about Scaley?”

Remus grinned. “Janus Jr.”

“Danger Noodle!”

“Janice, but spelled the other way.”

“Snoot Boopsie!”

“Janus, but pronounced like anus.”

“You are both terrible at naming snakes,” Janus cut in, breaking the amused silence they had maintained until now as their eyebrows rose higher and higher with each of Remus and Patton’s suggestions.

“Oh, really?” Remus rounded on them with a grin. “And what would you name it, then, if you’re so much cleverer than us?”

Janus froze, mouth open, clearly caught off-guard by the question. “…Jake,” they said weakly after a pause.

Remus snickered. “Oh, really?” He let go of Patton’s hand and moved closer to Janus, leaning into their personal space. “Is that your genius idea for Best Snake Name of All Time? You’re sure?”

Janus, being Janus, stood their ground. “Yes,” they mumbled, sounding only a little sheepish.

Remus traded a mischievous glance with Patton. “And you didn’t make it up on the spot because you were making fun of our ideas when you had none of your own?”

“Of… of course not,” Janus said, tone almost perfectly even and cheeks very red.

“Well,” Patton chirped, the picture of innocence standing there at his full height of 5’2” and dressed all in pastels, speaking in that particular syrupy sweet tone that was the surest sign that his partners were in an excellent kind of danger, “I think that’s a great name, honey!” He raised his eyebrows at Remus in a meaningful way.

Janus blinked. “…What?”

“Oh, definitely,” Remus agreed with a wide grin, catching Patton’s drift at once. Teaming up with Patton to tease Janus was, pretty much universally, an excellent idea. Remus hooked their chin over Janus’s shoulder from behind, wrapping his arm around their waist. “I mean, it really sums up the essence of what we desire in a pet snake, you know?” He held up a hand in front of them both, palm out and fingers spread, drawing a line as if to illuminate the word in the air. “Jake. Now there’s a name that really says dangerous. Intimidating. Cool.”

“I hate you,” Janus mumbled, tilting their head to press their temple against his in a fond little gesture that belied their words.

“Nah, you don’t.” Remus kissed his cheek. “Besides, sugar, if you don’t like it, all you gotta do is say so.” He drew Janus closer by the waist until they were pressed together, his tone turning to a teasing sing-song. “Just let us know you don’t like it. That you were pulling it out of your ass and that you think it’s silly. That you were wrong and you changed your mind.” He leaned closer so his breath fanned against their ear and lowered his voice to nearly a whisper. “Just say it. That’s all you gotta do.” He pulled away, putting on his best bright, innocent air. “Up to you, though! Pat and I clearly love it, so if you don’t say anything, we do have a unanimous winner.” He grinned at Janus.

“You are so mean,” Janus whined.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Remus asked innocently. “Don’t wanna admit you’re wrong?”

“I’m not,” Janus protested at once, “I just….”

“Yes?” Patton said sweetly. “You just what, honey?”

Janus let out a sigh. “You two are going to be the death of me, you know?”

“Why?” Remus inquired. “Because you like it when we make you squirm?”

Janus made a small strangled sound. “Oh, my god.”

“That definitely wasn’t a no, baby,” Remus purred.

Janus flushed pink once again. “I—you—let’s go look at the snakes.” They pulled free of Remus’s grasp and moved towards the door of the pet store.

“Damn. We really are those, like, super obnoxious people who just stand in the parking lot flirting for ten minutes,” Remus commented, putting his hands in the pockets of his green-blue-yellow colorblock jacket, as Janus disappeared into the store.

“Have we ever been anything else?” Patton pointed out in a practical tone. “Come on, now, sweetie, we’d better catch up before Jan buys out half the reptile section.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Remus retorted easily, but allowed Patton to tug him into the store by the hand in search of their other partner.

They found Janus in the reptile section, staring with wide eyes and a soft, open expression into one of the glass tanks. They had a tiny grin on their face as they watched the snake flick its tongue out, and after a second, the tip of their own tongue appeared in an answering blep to mirror the snake. Their expression was far less guarded—and far more happy—than they normally allowed it to be in public, and Remus was hit in the gut with an overpowering wave of remembering-just-how-gooshy-Jan-made-him emotions.

Patton cooed softly, phone at the ready in a flash; Remus leaned over, resting their chin on Patton’s shoulder, and adjusted the angle of the camera just slightly to one he knew Janus would like better. Patton clicked the shutter.

“I can see you, you know,” Janus commented quietly, eyes not leaving the snake.

“It’s not our fault you’re so pretty,” Remus responded, backed up by an emphatic nod from Patton. He moved over to stand at Janus’s side, sliding his hand possessively around their waist. “Is this Jake?” he inquired innocently.

“Oh my god,” Janus mumbled, rolling their eyes.

“What? I thought you liked that name,” Remus teased with his best evil grin. “You know, it being your idea, and you being so much better at coming up with names than us, and all.”

“You really aren’t going to let that one go, are you?” Janus sighed.

Remus put one finger under Janus’s chin and tilted their face towards himself. “Not unless you tell us exactly what you want, baby,” he breathed, letting his tone go dark.

Janus visibly swallowed, cheeks staining red. “I—” Their eyes flitted away from him, glancing around. “Remus, we’re in public.”

“Why, what did I do?” Remus asked sweetly, grinning.

“You know perfectly well what you did.”

Remus grinned wider. “Hell yeah I do,” they acknowledged. “C’mon, there’s no kids over here, I can be a little naughty.” However, having made their point, he did ease off the teasing, just for the moment. “Now, introduce me to our snakey pal here. Are we liking this one?”

Janus looked over Remus’s shoulder, and Patton was by their side at once. “I—I do like this one, I think,” Janus said, indicating the snake that had been engrossing them when Remus and Patton arrived. “But we can look around first, and talk about it.”

Patton dug in their pocket and produced the scrap of paper with the list of species they’d agreed upon as options, after several nights’ worth of internet research and heated discussion. They’d needed to find a pet that would do well in the apartment the three of them had just moved into—their first home together. It was one that would allow pets, which had been important to them, and choosing a snake as the inaugural pet of the family had been an easy decision for Remus and Patton after the way Janus lit up talking about it.

“Let’s take a look, shall we?” Patton said, unfolding the list.

While there were, frankly, a surprising number of snakes available for purchase—Remus counted at least ten—only two or three met the criteria that the three of them had put together.

“So?” Remus asked, looking at Janus expectantly when they had whittled down the options before them thus far. “What’s it gonna be, babe?”

Janus hesitated. “It’s going to be our snake. Not mine. We should all choose.”

“Yeah, but Pat and I have only been waiting for it for a few months. You’ve been waiting since you were eight. It’s important to all of us, but it’s most important to you.” Remus glanced at Patton. “Isn’t that right?”

Patton nodded. “I like all of the options, honey,” they told Janus. “I wanna know which one makes you most happy.”

Janus was silent, looking back and forth between two glass tanks and quietly stimming with their hands—rubbing their thumbs back and forth along all their other fingertips, a stim Remus recognized as one of their go-tos when thinking hard or overwhelmed. “I….” They bit their lip, looking beseechingly over at their partners, voice trailing off in what seemed like mild distress.

Remus put his arm around their waist again, drumming his fingers against their side. “Problem?” he asked, gently pushing Janus’s hair out of their face.

Janus hesitated. “I’m… stuck,” they said by way of explanation. They gestured vaguely towards their forehead. “Up here.”

Remus nodded and placed his free hand delicately on Janus’s chest, right over their heart, his fingertips barely pressing against the soft, clingy lace fabric of their long black dress. “How about here?” he asked.

Janus chewed on the inside of their mouth for a beat and shook his head. “Not stuck there.”

“Do you want to go home and come back later?” Patton asked.

Janus shook their head again, head bent and hair falling about their face as they stared into one of the snake tanks. “I know which one. I’m only second guessing myself.”

Remus wrapped both his hands around their slim waist. “Do you know what you need?” he said, the words coming easily to his tongue. He’d struck on that particular phrasing back in college; it helped when Janus was feeling stuck, usually due to either sensory overload or a disconnect between their feelings and rational thoughts. It was simple and, more importantly, it cut past the issue of explaining what the problem was, which could be hard for Janus to articulate.

Janus hesitated. “Not exactly.”

“Any ideas?” Remus prompted when they did not go on.

Janus rested one hand over Remus’s, still clasped about their side, and drummed their slim fingers on the back of his hand. “I… don’t know how I feel about the name ideas anymore,” they said slowly, as if trying to shape the thoughts in their head into words.

“Oh, that’s no problem, I was mostly just being silly,” Remus assured them at once, absently signing the word “silly” in ASL as he spoke—one of a handful of words he’d retained in his vocabulary since he spent a stint learning the language in middle school. He glanced over at Patton. “Right?”

Patton nodded. “Of course not, honey. We don’t need to pick a name right now. We can always work that out some other time.”

Janus let out a long breath. “Okay. That—that’s good. Yes.”

“Better?” Remus asked, feeling the way they had untensed against him.

Janus inclined their head once. “Less things in my head now.”

“That’s good,” Remus said. “Also,” he added, in a less serious tone, “can I just point out that I am being really good about how many times we are saying the word snake and how many dirty jokes I am not making, and you should both give me lots of attention about it?”

Janus let out a huff of laughter. “What exactly am I doing right now, pray tell?” he inquired, gesturing to where he and Remus were pressed together all down their side, and to Remus’s hand about their waist.

“Breathing, in that very sexy way you do,” Remus retorted at once with a grin.

Janus half smiled. “I’m flattered, darling.” They pressed their temple to Remus’s. “However, I was referring to the way we are practically cuddling in broad daylight. Is that not giving you attention?”

“True,” Remus agreed, giving Janus’s side an appreciative squeeze, “but you’re also giving some of your attention to these reptiles.” He gestured at the wall of tanks before them. “Let it be known that I am terribly jealous. And Pat is all the way over there, which is too far.” They pouted at Patton, standing all of twelve inches away from the pair of them.

“Yes, you’re being very good, sweetie,” Patton said, patting Remus on the cheek. “You get lots of kisses later.”

Remus beamed, catching Patton’s hand in their free hand. “Much better,” they said with a pleased chuckle, and looked back to Janus. “Are you ready to tell us which snake is coming home with us, baby?” He hooked his finger in one of Janus’s belt loops and ran his thumb back and forth along their side just above it.

Janus pursed their lips, clearly considering this. “Yes,” they said. “I really like this one.” He indicated a tank with a golden-brown, spotted snake inside; a corn snake, the same one they had been so interested in when Remus and Patton arrived.

Patton made an excited noise, and Janus’s face melted into a soft little grin at once. “I love that one!” Patton said. “That one is the best one.”

“Good.” Janus looked at Remus, the barest hint of nerves almost perfectly hidden in their face.

Remus leaned up and pecked their lips. “’S perfect, baby,” he said easily.

Janus relaxed the rest of the way, leaning into Remus’s touch and raising one hand to their mouth to cover the smile on their face. “Of course it is,” they said primly, reaching around Remus’s back to rest a hand on Patton’s shoulder. “It’s ours, after all.”

Taglist (ask to be added/removed!): @theimprobabledreamersworld

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maddiwrites · 4 years ago

Text

Secrets of the Shore (Chapter10)

Pairing: Pogues x OC, Eventually JJ x OC

Summary: This is just my rewrite of the show Outer Banks with my own twist by adding another main character which also happens to be John B’s twin sister.

Note: Happy Valentines Day y’all! Hope your day was filled with love (even if you’re not in a relationship) Thank you guys for reading! I’m sorry I’m torturing you with the tension between Marleigh and JJ but I gotta keep you on your toes somehow (;

Word Count: 5.6 k

Chapter 9

When I drop my things off at Kie's house and invite myself to stay at her house for a few days, she bombards me with questions. Most of them revolve around John B. Where is he? How are we going to find him? How do we know he's okay? Of course I don't have the answers to any of these questions, which only makes the curly brunette more worried.

"Look, he's going to be fine," I tell her as we walk down her long driveway where Pope and JJ are waiting for us. "John B wouldn't let them take him without a fight. Plus, I oddly take the fact that I haven't even gotten one phone call from him as a good sign. If he was at the station, they would probably use him to bait me."

When we get closer to the boys, I bite my lip to hide my smile. The blonde smirks back at me and even throws in a wink. Every nerve in my body ignites with a fire-like spark when I look at his sparkling blue eyes. I can't believe I almost kissed my best friend. I don't know what it would do to our friendship if something were to happen.

The thought terrifies me enough to make my smile falter. I can't lose JJ. I can't fuck up the best thing I have in my life which is my friendship with Kie, Pope, and especially JJ.

JJ tilts his head to look at me questioningly so I plaster a fake grin on my face.

The movie is being projected in an open field on Figure Eight. They have a huge blow up screen and a projector in front of it. There's already about fifty people here and more on the way.

We set up our lawn chairs in the middle of the field. My chest tightens with anxiety when we're surrounded by Kooks and Tourons. Rafe and his friends could be hiding anywhere in the faces around us. I can tell Pope is thinking the same thing. His head is snapping back and froth, left and right, keeping an eye out for the people who want to kill us. JJ tries to calm him down, but nothing settles him.

"Back to OBX life," Kie says as she sits down next to me. She opens the cooler at her feet and hands me a bag of grapes she packed. "You know? Aren't you glad I made you come?"

"Ecstatic," I mutter. My eyes scan the crowd for dudes with slicked back hair and neon shorts.

"My couch was pretty comfy, I'll be honest," JJ says next to me. He reaches into the bag of grapes and steals a few. He throws them in the air, catching them in his mouth.

Kie stands up to grab a couple of sodas from the snack bar. The second she's out of ear shot, Pope whips his head in our direction. His eyes are big with fear as they study every face that walks through the field.

"We're out of the green zone, man," Pope whispers on the other side of JJ.

"Dude, tranqüilo, okay?" JJ says.

"We're in the middle of kooklandia," Pope says. "This is the last place I wanted to be."

"Shut up, Pope," I hiss when I see Kie making her way back to us with three Pepsis in her hand. She has a scowl on her face. That can't be good.

"Just saw Rafe, and he said, and I quote, 'Tell your boy that we know what he did.'" Kie looks between JJ and Pope with raised brows. She doesn't look happy. She looks suspicious and somewhat annoyed that she doesn't know what Rafe is talking about. "What is that?"

Pope snaps his head in the direction of the snack bar. JJ tries to act normal and purses his lips. He avoids Kie's glare by looking at me, immediately throwing me under the bus for knowing their secret too.

Kie turns to look at me with her mouth slightly open. "You know?" I open my mouth to respond but she cuts me off. "Why do you know and I don't? What did you guys do?"

"Where is he?" JJ asks, glancing over his shoulder.

"Right there." Kie points at the snack bar where Rafe, Topper, and Kelce are throwing popcorn at each other. They look up and smirk in our direction.

"Great, the whole death squad," Pope says.

JJ grabs the top of Pope's head and physically turns it back to the screen. "Don't stare, bro."

I feel my hands clench around the arms of my beach chair. I know for a fact that tonight's not going to be as easy as we thought it would be. And I hate that its because of Rafe of all people.

"Just warning you, bro. If they corner me, I'm coming out swinging, okay? Slice and dicin'. I'm on edge right now," JJ says, shaking out his shoulders.

"Yeah, yeah," Pope nods in agreement, which makes both Kie and I look at him incredulously. Pope's a lover, not a fighter.

"If that doesn't work, I got this right here," JJ smacks his backpack that I now know his gun is in.

"Yeah, yeah," Pope continues to nod. He's so deep in fear that he doesn't even realize that JJ just offered to whip a gun out in a sea of people and children.

"So, we just gotta stay in the group," JJ says, officially ignoring Kie's glares. "They can't get us in the group."

"Like a school of fish," Pope agrees. "Stay in the school. Can't leave the school."

I roll my eyes. "Oh my god. We're screwed."

"I'm sorry, JJ," Kie leans over me to get a better look at the blonde boy sitting next to me. "Please tell me that you did not bring a gun here." JJ just stares at her blankly. "JJ, there are kids!"

"No!" JJ snaps. "Kie, I didn't bring the gun. Okay? Everything's fine."

"Wow thank you. That's really convincing. I love that JJ," Kie says sarcastically with a roll of her eyes.

"Welcome to the summer movie series!" A man stands at the front of the field by the screen with a microphone in his hand, addressing the crowd.

"Founding principle you guys," Kie says with a quieter voice. "No secrets amongst Pogues." She looks at me and holds her stare. I swallow the bad memories that threaten to rise to the surface. I know she's implying the secret that she's been keeping for me. The one she wants me to tell the others. And now I'm hiding another secret. From her of all people. "What is Rafe talking about?"

I open my mouth to try to calm her down, but JJ cuts me off, which only makes matters worse.

"Kie, it might go down tonight."

I groan and roll my eyes.

"What does that mean?" Kie asks. She even slaps me on my shoulder with the back of her hand. If looks could kill...

"Might go down tonight..." Pope says slowly.

"What did y'all do?"

JJ leans closer to Pope and says in his ear, "Deny, deny, deny."

I look at Kie with soft eyes. "Do you trust me?" Kie reluctantly nods and glances between me and the boys. I grab her wrist to make her look at me, my eyes pleading. "Then trust me when I tell you that the less you know, the better."

Kie finally drops the subject and sits back into her seat. She's not happy about not knowing and if I were her, I'd feel the same way. But its best if she doesn't know.

We watch the movie with tension in our shoulders and frowns on our lips. Our relaxing night took a turn for the worst. I can't even focus on the movie or JJ being so close to my side, our shoulders practically against each other. All I can feel is a pair of eyes on the back of my head, burning holes through my skull.

Halfway through the movie I hear Pope lean in closer to JJ. His voice is a whisper but I detach my focus from the movie to listen. "JJ?"

"What?" JJ whispers back.

"Gotta take a piss," Pope says.

I look over my shoulder towards the bathrooms. Like I suspect, the Kooks are gathered around it.

"Hold it," JJ hisses.

"I can't hold it. I drank too much soda."

"It's too exposed. They'll totally see us."

"I gotta go," Pope says more definitively.

JJ looks in the direction I was just looking at. "They're blocking the bathrooms." JJ sighs and looks ahead. "Come here. I know where."

JJ pulls Pope up by his arm and walks in the opposite direction of the bathroom, towards the movie screen.

"Hey, where y'all going?" Kie calls out in a hushed whisper.

"We gotta wring it out," JJ says.

"You gonna hold it for each other?" Kie responds which makes me laugh.

They don't reply. They walk around the screen to the other side. The second they're out of view, Kie turns to look at me with a face that says she wants answers and she wants them now.

"Please don't ask me to tell you."

"You're making me worried," Kie says honestly.

I sigh with guilt, completely understanding the feeling. If the three of them were hiding something from me, my mind would be racking through millions of different thoughts about what it was.

"Does it have to do with the day you got that?" Kie points to the bruise on my face.

I bite my lip and turn towards the movie, trying my best not to let her convince me to tell her. If the cops were to get involved, I want Kie to be as innocent as possible. They would probably never go after her because she lives on Figure Eight, but knowing Kie, she would do whatever she needed to help her best friends.

I look over my shoulder again, making sure the Kooks were still guarding the bathroom, but my heart stops when I don't see them.

"Shit," I stand up and step through the crowd of people, running to where Pope and JJ disappeared.

As I get closer to the screen I can hear the heavy grunts of guys fighting from behind it. Pope and JJ are fighting against Kelce, Rafe, and Topper. I shuffle on my two feet, not sure where to go, who to help first.

Kelce has his arms wrapped around JJ's, holding him against his chest and leaving him open for Rafe's punches . A couple feet away from them, Topper and Pope wrestle on the grass, throwing hands wherever will make contact with skin.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Kie running towards Pope and Topper with JJ's backpack. I run towards Rafe and shove him back by his shoulders. I risk a glance at JJ. His face is red from the Kooks' punches and there's a split in his bottom lip. The sight of him being hurt is enough to make my vision blur to red.

I shove Rafe backwards by his shoulders again. The older boy just laughs at me humorlessly, only fueling the fire to my rage. I narrow my eyes into a glare and take another menacing step towards him.

"Mar, stop!" I hear JJ call behind me but I ignore him.

"Let go of him, Topper!" I hear Kie say a little further away. She's beating him with JJ's backpack and jumping on Topper's back to get him away from Pope.

"I told you I was going to find out who did it," Rafe says.

"And I told you we didn't do shit," I say, keeping my face steady with a scowl. I turn to send daggers in Kelce's direction. "Let him go."

Rafe whistles and keeps the cocky smirk spread across his face. "Would you look at this. I think someone has a little soft spot for the blonde Pogue over here. Don't you think Kelce? I mean princess over here didn't even acknowledge her other friend."

"You know what? I don't think you're worried about who sunk Topper's boat. That would have to mean you actually care about someone other than yourself. I think your problem is with me."

The older boy scoffs, "With you?"

"Yeah," I take another step closer to him. "It must be really frustrating when the guy who gets everything he wants without lifting a perfectly manicured finger can't even get laid by ...oh what was it that you called me? The Cut's biggest whore? Must be pretty pathetic that some whore won't even sleep with you."

The back of Rafe's hand slaps me across the face, snapping my head with the direction of his hand. I hear JJ cry after me but its muffled by my back slamming into the grass with a weight on top of me.

Rafe's hands encircle around my neck and they squeeze tighter than they did the other day when I was in this same position. But this time, I wanted this because it got his attention away from JJ.

"You know, they say Pogues are the one's with the short temper," I chuckle maliciously. My voice is raspy and my throat is on fire, but I'm loving how easy it is to get under Rafe's skin. "But a little taste of reality is all it takes to ignite your fuse."

"Marleigh!" JJ shouts. I hear the sound of fists connecting with skin, followed by grunts and groans. "Rafe I swear to god -"

"Go ahead," I wrap my fingers around Rafe's wrists to try and pull him off of me but he's too strong. "But killing me will only add to your dad's growing list of reasons why you're his biggest disappointment."

Rafe grips my neck tighter, completely cutting off my air supply. The pounding in my ear muffles the cries and shouts from all my friends. From the Kooks. I can barely breathe and my vision sparkles with white specks. I try fighting him, but his rage is now stronger than mine.

Heat flows through my body and sweat bubbles at my hairline. I see orange out of the corner of my eye, but I think that's just my vision blurring together. A second later, I feel the weight of Rafe's body lifted off of me. There's a thump from the ground next to me and more heavy grunts. When I look up, I watch the screen light up in flames. Literally.

I gasp for breath and turn on my side. I can feel the contents of my stomach rising up my throat, leaving my throat in even more burning anguish. I pant for air, inhaling sharply and ignoring the sharp pain from my lungs.

I feel warm hands wrap around my biceps, pulling me up to my feet. My legs and arms feel like rubber, but I muster up enough strength to walk out of here. I'd be damned if I let Rafe see me as some weak link again.

Topper, Kelce, and Pope try pulling JJ off of Rafe who jams his fist against Rafe's face relentlessly. JJ's face is red with anger, his scowl hardening with every hit.

"JJ!" I call out to him. I know this is only going to get him in more trouble. They're Kooks. They never get in trouble. Leaving any kind of mark on Rafe's skin will call for consequences. That's just how it goes around here and we can't be stupid to it. "JJ, stop!" I try breaking out of Kie's grip. "JJ! You're going to kill him!"

JJ's head snaps in my direction. His eyes scan wildly down my body, looking for any source of life threatening injuries. I try to grin assuringly at him, but it's hard to turn my lips upwards.

When JJ is distracted, Pope manages to pull him away. The Kooks grab Rafe by his shoulders and yank him in the opposite direction. If we don't want to be caught, we all have to leave right now. The fire department and probably the police will be here any second to put out the fire.

When we're finally separated, I pull myself away from Kie and run directly into JJ's arms. He wraps himself around my waist and lifts me off the ground to pull me even closer to his body. I snuggle my face into the crook of his neck and hold him tight.

He's okay. He's okay. He's okay. It's all I can manage to say in my head.

~ ~ ~

No one says a word the entire ride home from the movies. But even without it being discussed, we knew none of us wanted to spend the night alone. I can't go back to my house and Kie's parents wouldn't want all of us at her's, so she drives us to Pope's.

Pope didn't get too hurt in the scuffle. In fact he's the one that threw the first punch...well the first head. He head butted Topper before the Kook had a chance to swing. Kie's only injury was a small burn on her finger from when she flicked the lighter to burn down the screen. JJ and I however are bruised and sore.

Kie helps Pope set up his living room for all of us to sleep. Before I can offer to help, JJ tugs on my hand and brings me down the hall towards the bathroom. He locks the door behind me.

I tilt my head and my eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. "Are you okay?"

JJ steps closer to me, basically pinning my body against the door. My breath hitches in my throat as his hands come up to cup my jaw. He's so close I can feel his breath on my face. He pulls my head up and tilts it to the side. He looks down at my neck, looking for bruises and scratches that Rafe might have left me with. My neck is sore and it hurts to swallow, but that's it. Even his backhand didn't leave a mark on my cheek.

"Hey," I say softly. I pull his hands away from my face and intertwine our fingers together. "I'm okay."

"He could have killed you," JJ says through clenched teeth.

"But he didn't."

"But -"

"No buts," I tell him. Unwrapping one hand from his, I pull him further into the bathroom and tap on the sink counter top, motioning for him to hop up and sit so I can take a look at his face which looks worse the mine. "Come on."

JJ reluctantly hops on the counter. I go to the closet and pull out a small face towel and run it under cold water. Standing between his legs, I lightly dab the towel on his bottom lip that's split down the middle. I bite my lip nervously under the scrutiny of his stare. Neither of us say anything, relaxed in the comfort of the other one's presence. I feel safe when I'm with him. There's no Kooks versus Pogues. There's no abusive fathers or DCS. Its just me and him.

I drop the towel next to JJ and slowly touch the hem of his shirt. I look up at him, waiting for him to give me the go-ahead or to stop me. I need to see the damage that can be hidden with clothes.

JJ nods slowly and lets me pull his shirt up. His toned abs are the first thing I notice. I've seen him without a shirt hundreds of times, but something about this moment makes me stare. Maybe it's how close I'm standing next to him, or how I can feel the warmth radiating from his skin onto mine.

His body isn't marked with any discoloration and his ribs are still intact. When I pull his shirt back down and nod to say he's okay, I'm looking deep into his eyes - the eyes that never left mine.

"Are you okay?" He asks. His voice is soft and raspy, sexy even.

I nod my head, grinning, "Yes. I promise. Are you?"

"I swear to god, I'm going to kill him."

"J-"

"He hurt you, Mar!" JJ finally snaps. "He had his hands wrapped around your throat!"

"Shh," I shush him by pressing my index finger against his lips, afraid that he's going to wake up Pope's parents. "It's okay."

"It's not and you know it!" JJ sighs and lets his shoulders relax when I look at him pleadingly. He takes my hand and wraps it around his own. He brings it to his lips, gently kissing the tender skin around my knuckles. Blush creeps up my neck to my cheeks. I lean in closer to him, pressing my hips against the counter and glancing between my hand, his lips, and his eyes.

Every fiber in my being tells me to lean in further and finally press my lips against his. At this moment I don't care about the rules or what it might do to our friendship or what John B might say about it. I just want to feel him, every part of him, against me. I want to forget the rest of the world exists and just be with JJ.

But I don't. Because Kie quietly knocking on the door pulls me out of my thoughts.

"Hey, are you guys okay?" She asks.

The corner of JJ's lips tug upwards into a slanted grin, causing mine to do the same. I take a step backwards and help him down from the counter.

Kie looks between us confused. I grin at her and nod my head to show her that we're both okay. JJ grins to himself and follows me out to the living room where Pope is already passed out on the couch.

I bend down to lay on the makeshift bed on the floor made out of blankets and pillows. I was expecting Kie to lay down next to me, but JJ takes the spot to my left.

Kie trudges to the other couch, too tired to say anything about the fight or JJ and I. I know she'll wanna talk about it later with me. She always does when it involves Rafe.

I keep my eyes trained to the ceiling. My body is exhausted but I'm not tired. I finally feel like I defended myself against Rafe today, a personal accomplishment and a milestone. I don't think my feud with Rafe will ever go away. I think we'll always hate each other until one of us leaves the island for good. But at least he knows I won't put up with his crap anymore. With or without his dad's money.

I don't know how long I've been staring at a blank canvas of nothing. Not even Pope's snores can lullaby me to sleep. I turn my body towards JJ. I wonder if kissing him in the bathroom would have been a mistake or not. Maybe it would disrupt the peace in our friend group, but I can't deny my feelings for him anymore. I know what I want and that's JJ. I would do anything for the blonde lying next to me.

I watch his chest rise up and down slowly. His lips are slightly parted as he sleeps. My fingers delicately play with the shark tooth necklace around his neck. I've always loved this necklace on him, even thought about getting one myself. But I knew Kie would tease me endlessly if I did.

"You know, some people think it's rude to stare," JJ's raspy voice pulls me out of my head. His eyes are still closed and his lips are now turned up into a smirk from catching me in the act.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you," I whisper.

"How come you're not sleeping?"

"My head won't let me," I reply. "Just thinking. Hey, where did you get this?"

JJ slowly opens his eyes and looks down at my thumb that glides over the smooth surface of the shark tooth. "Pretty sure this is from the country club's gift shop."

I shake my head with a grin, expecting nothing less from my klepto friend. "Of course it is."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"When did Rafe call you a whore?"

I drop my hand from his necklace and lay it flat on his chest. JJ takes his arm and rests it behind his head, sitting up to look at me. I shrug like it's no big deal.

"It was a long time ago."

"Why would he call you that?"

"The Kook doesn't handle rejection very well. It's fine, JJ."

JJ sighs. "You would tell me if someone really hurt you, right?"

This time my eyes flicker back up to meet his. His gaze feels delicate, like if he looked at me any other way, I'd break. I think he knows something but he's not telling me. Maybe that's for the better. After tonight, I never want to tell him what Rafe almost did to me. I don't trust JJ to not run off to actually try to murder the Kook.

"I'm fine."

"You're not answering the question. Please, Mar. I know Pope's hiding something too. Something about you. About the other day."

I swallow thickly and nod my head. "Of course I'd tell you."

Guilt trickles through me at the lie. JJ trusted me enough to tell me about his dad, and I had the same reaction JJ would probably have if I told him about Rafe. Yet, I couldn't bring myself to do it.

JJ nods. I can't tell if he believes me or not but he drops the subject and opens his arms for me to cuddle into him. "Come here."

I snuggle into his side and wrap my arm around his waist. This feels good, this feels normal. For a second, I forget that Kie and Pope are even in the same room as us. JJ's warm. He smells like grass, cologne, and a hint of weed. I match my breathing to his and let my eyes close, finally falling into a deep dreamless slumber.

~ ~ ~

When the four of us wake up, we offer to help Heyward out at his shop as a thank you for letting us stay over. I'm waiting for Kie to say something to me about being wrapped around JJ when we all woke up, but she doesn't say anything. Instead she passes me looks of concern. I can tell she's itching to talk about last night.

Pope's in his head about last night too and he's not giving himself enough credit for fighting Topper back.

"Don't let it get in your head," JJ says. "Three of them and two of us. That's typical Kook shit right there."

"Hell yeah," Kie says, agreeing.

"What was your thought process, using your head?"

Pope shrugs. "I don't know, man. I just kind of acted off instinct. I was a cornered animal."

Heyward walks into the shop and approaches us. I can already tell by his face that he's not about to tell us we can take a souvenir to go. His eyes are trained on his son and he looks worried. "Hey, Pope, someone here to see you."

The three of us look at Pope for some kind of tell as to who might be here for him, but he looks just as confused as the rest of us.

We follow him outside where Officer Shoupe is waiting for him. My heart drops deep into the pit of my stomach. I glance between the officer and Pope, knowing exactly who was to blame for this.

"Morning, officer," Pope says nervously. He looks like he's about to puke.

Shoupe doesn't greet him. Instead he slowly approaches my friend with a paper in his hand. "I have an arrest warrant for felony of destruction of property."

Fucking Topper.

"What?" Heyward says loudly. He looks between Shoupe and Pope, then to us as if we could explain the misunderstanding.

Shoupe moves closer to Pope. "Hands where I can see them." Kie immediately steps in to block the officer's path, saying something about how he can't do this. "Young lady, out of my way. Look at the warrant."

"You're arresting him?" I say, moving next to Pope. I narrow my eyes at the stuck up officer. I know for a fact that the police don't have any evidence that can prove Pope did it. The only witnesses were me and JJ.

"You're just arresting my boy?" Heyward says defensively.

Shoupe ignores both of us and grabs Pope by the arm and forcefully takes him to the car.

"Be careful!" Kie yells at him.

I can't wrap my brain around what is happening. Pope is the last person who should ever go to jail. What happened to Topper's boat is fair game. Okay, yes, maybe illegal, but so is assault which the Kooks did first!

"Shoupe, are you listening?" Heyward yells.

Shoupe ignores us again and starts reading Pope his rights. Our friend looks back at us, specifically at JJ and I, the ones who knew the truth. JJ grips the routes of his hair stressfully as I try to come up with any kind of idea to get him out of it.

"How much did they pay you, man?" JJ says, taking a step closer to the car.

"Stop!" I yell. This time Shoupe turns to look at me. So does everyone else. I do the only thing I can think of. "It wasn't him. It was -"

"It was me!" JJ says quickly.

My head snaps in his direction with an open mouth and wide eyes. He refuses to look at me, keeping his eyes on Shoupe and Pope.

"JJ -"

JJ cuts me off, "He tried to talk me out of it, but I was mad because he'd just been beaten up." The blonde takes another step closer to Shoupe. "I was so sick of those assholes from Figure Eight that I lost my shit." He looks at Pope with a look that tells him to go along with it. A look that tells him why he's doing this. "I can't let you take the blame for something I did. You've got too much to lose."

"JJ, what are you doing?" Pope stares at him with big eyes.

My eyes narrow into a glare as I stare at the back of JJ's head. Fear rises up my chest and tightens around my heart. Why is he doing this? I was going to do it! They're already looking for me anyway to take me to DCS. JJ's bargaining a lot for his friend. The others think he's only going to be arrested, but I know his punishment isn't going to stop there. His dad is going to be pissed. And I know what happens when his dad is pissed.

"I'm telling the truth," JJ says. "For once in my goddamn life, I'm gonna tell the truth." He looks over his shoulder, glancing at me before looking at Heyward. "Stole his old man's boat too."

"What the hell?" Heyward says.

"JJ, come on," Pope pleads.

"Just shut up, Pope!" JJ snaps. "Just shut up." He looks back at Shoupe. "He's a good kid. You know where I'm from."

"Yeah," Shoupe says, agreeing that he wouldn't put this past JJ.

"This was all me."

Shoupe sighs and looks at Pope one more time. "That's the whole truth?"

"Whole truth, swear to god!" JJ says loudly.

"I know what you think, damn it, I'm asking Pope."

I look at Pope with clenched teeth, fighting my tears off with heavy breaths. I don't want Pope to agree, but I can't let him be taken away either. I can only watch as JJ does something so incredibly stupid, I don't know if he'll come back from it.

"Yeah," Pope says hesitantly. "That about covers it."

Shoupe nods and pulls out his handcuffs. Knowing the drill a little too well, JJ turns and lets Shoupe snap the handcuffs around his wrist.

"JJ!" I call out to him. I'm about to run over to him but Kie steps in my way, holding me back from making a mistake. "No, stop!"

JJ looks at me one last time before Shoupe shuts the back door with him inside. He nods once, trying to tell me he's going to be okay. But I know better. No one understands the risk he just took by taking the fall for Pope. For me.

"Ms. Routledge," Shoupe says before getting in the driver's seat. "Have you spoken to your brother?"

I pull away from Kie and glare at the old man, feeling nothing but hatred for him. "No. I haven't seen him."

"I suggest you go home and pack a bag. DCS is looking for the both of you. I'd take you in myself, but I can't without a social worker present."

I don't say anything. I just hold his stare.

When Shoupe drives away, I turn back to my best friend and pull at my hair. I start to hyperventilate, thinking about how JJ's dad is going to react when he hears JJ's been arrested. It doesn't take a lot to rile Luke Maybank up into a rage. I don't even want to think about what he's going to think about this.

Kie holds me to her, the both of us crying into each other's shoulders while Pope tries to come up with an explanation for his father. I let my best friend hold me. I don't care if bystanders are watching us. I don't care how pathetic I look. I can only think of JJ. I can only think about how I'm going to get JJ back.

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