#hair-dye-lip-rings

[dreamertrilogys]

IT’S 4AM FUCK MY LIFEEEEE Okay so new personal rule no redbull at 8pm

[reneesremains]

gonna dye my hair black in a couple days i hope i still feel sexy

^me^

[chelsiejconnor]

🖤 insta - chelsiejconnor

[annemarieyeretzian]

Things I was grateful for in November 2022: A Coco-inspired pan dulce ice cream sandwich, watching Coco with Katie, Miracle Country by Kendra Atleework, V for Vendetta, Bad Idea by Dove Cameron, a gift card to Oasis vegetarian cafe, Sidecar Doughnuts’ pumpkin cheesecake and salty caramel donuts, LUSH Charity Pot lotion, Happy Skin face scrub, Salted Caramel lip scrub, Lip Service lip balm, Sticky Dates shower gel, Turmeric Latte bath bomb, Mr. Pumpkin Face face mask, Glossier boy brow, Gayle’s mini pumpkin cheesecake and chocolate cream pie, Manic Panic semi-permanent hair dye in Psychedelic Sunset, lunch with Drea, American Eagle fall socks, a Frostbeard Studios Pumpkin Juice candle, season four of The Dragon Prince, a Lord of the Rings movie marathon, and demi mid suede Keds sneakers.

[sukunasteeth]

Sukuna Dyes His Hair

You were just teasing him.

"Pink like a petite little rose."

"Shut it."

They were just play-fighting words. Part of an attempt to poke the bear that never seemed to bite at you.

"Pink like a sweet strawberry."

"Strawberries are red."

Sukuna had had you in his lap, lazy with a long day of work weighing on his bones. He watched you dote on him with a tired smile, too exhausted to mind your fingers lovingly brushing at tufts of his hair. Usually he'd swat at a touch as careful as the one you were giving him, but there were moments, like this one, where he seemed to soak up your tenderness.

"Pink like a baby kitten's nose." You cooed.

"Jesus." He groaned, rolling his eyes. 

Maybe it was the ending boop to his own nose that made him finally snatch you up and tackle you to the mattress.

Maybe that's why one day later, you're staring at him standing outside of a restaurant, leaning against his motorcycle with stark black hair.

He's grinning at you, knowing that he's won the little game as he always does, with overkill.

It was a promised date night, one you had been planning for a few weeks now. Sukuna never had the same days off that you did, but the stars happened to align for you to go out to dinner together and you leapt at his invitation.

After he spots you from across the parking lot, Sukuna stubs his cigarette beneath his boot and starts over to you. You can tell in the way his eyes devilishly glimmer that he's excited to see your expression. 

You're in too much shock not to give him exactly what he wants.

"Hi~" He purrs when he nears you, reaching a hand out for one of your own. You offer it subconsciously, moving automatically since your brain seemed to be sputtering. His rings are cold against your fingers, but even their icy bite is not enough to stir you back to the present. He tugs you into his embrace, looping an arm around your lower waist and pressing you into him. He’s warm despite the chill on his fingertips. When he's got you secured to him, he tilts his head at you, waiting for your response.

"Hi." You whisper, blinking up at him.

You know he thinks you're going to hate it. You know he thinks you're going to give him a pout- tell him how heartbroken you are to see his natural hair go. That was undoubtedly the punchline of his stupid joke. You've told him numerous times how much you loved his hair and every part of him that made him Sukuna... So why is your mouth suddenly watering?

“What d'ya think?” He runs his fingers through it, showing it off to you as if your eyes aren’t already glued to the newly darkened locks. 

It suits him just as well as his natural hair color does, but the black brings out the deep, rich color of his eyes and makes prominent the tattoos framing his face. People always tell you that Sukuna’s stare intimidated them, and you never felt it yourself until then. 

You swallow past your heartbeat, which you can suddenly feel in your throat. Sukuna notices, and his mischievous grin turns wolfish.

"Oh, you like it. Don't you?" He murmurs. Reaching up, he presses your slightly agape mouth closed so that he can place a chaste kiss to your shell-shocked lips. The smell of tobacco and expensive cologne has you in an even more intoxicated daze, rendering you boneless in his hold. His next words are a heated whisper, for your ears only.

"I usually only manage to take the words out of your mouth when you're strapped to my bed. This gotcha that good, little doe?" 

[rinsoap]

no thoughts, just alt bfs <33 he lets you dye his hair every other month, looking forward to sitting on the tiled bathroom floor between your legs while you perch on the rim of the bathtub, painting over his overgrown buzzcut. he likes to give your knees little kisses as his foot taps to some system of a down song you hum along to.

he'll happily accept your offer to do his makeup after you finish yours. you drag pencil eyeliner across his lids and corners of his eyes, smearing it in lazily until it's grey to add an even more tired appearance to his face. you finish off his quick look with a kiss to his cheekbone that leaves a dark lipstick print where your lips were.

before he goes out, he always makes sure to be wearing a piece of jewelry you've gifted him; chrome rings, matching red pendants, a little sword earring. he loves being asked where he got his jewelry because then he gets to mention you! "oh this? my beautiful girlfriend got them for me, thank you for asking."

he does not take his playlists seriously at all. he just shuffles his liked songs and calls it a day. he's got one playlist though, and its dedicated to makeouts with you. and he takes that very seriously. he loves pulling you on top of him from laying beside him. he likes to have you on top of him, thighs squeezing against his hips as you straddle him. you lean down to press your lips on his, holding his face with both hands gently while the playlist blasts over the sounds of your kisses. it always starts out gentle, polite even, but as soon as the playlists shuffles to she wants revenge, all niceties are thrown out the window. he pulls you close, and you follow his movement. your hands keep switching from his face, to his neck, to his chest, not knowing where to touch, but knowing you want to touch him. he mimicks similar movements, needing as much of you as he can get. he squeezes the flesh of your hips and lets his hands roam over your body, up his shirt you’re wearing to rub the skin of your waist and back. you need each other, and that's all you know.

SUNA RINTARO. miya osamu. KOZUME KENMA!!!! semi eita. tsukishima kei. kunimi akira. KYOTANI KENTOROU!

MITSUYA TAKASHI!!!!!! ken ryuguji. hakkai shiba. BAJI KEISUKE. kazutora hanemiya.

[robo-writing]

DOFP! Logan trying to dye his grey streak because “it makes him look older” with a girlfriend that threatens to break up with him if he so much as opens the bottle ❤️

The scene before you almost sends you into cardiac arrest—no, it almost sends you to the pearly gates at the mere thought. Questions swarm you, plague your mind with endless why’s and how’s but soon you narrow it down to one definitive question—

“Logan, what the fuck are you doing?”

He stands in front of the mirror, brush in hand, still unsure whether or not he should raise or lower his hand—or rather, if he’s even allowed to make a move at all. “I’m…dyeing my hair?”

You scoff, moving towards him in what feels like a single step. “Yeah, I can see that—why?”

The words are pointed, accusatory. You can see the hint of a smirk rising on his lips before it’s quickly extinguished by the smoldering look you give him. For once, he decides not to be a smartass and give you a straight answer.

“Well, it’s kind of dated, ain’t it?” He sighs, running his fingers where the silver stands against the black. “Makes me look like I’m ancient.”

“That’s because you are ancient,” you retort.

He scoffs, eyes rolling back. “Funny—but I’m serious doll. I don’t want you to look at me and see an old man.”

The thought never crossed your mind that Logan might be self-conscious, confusion written on your face. “Old man?”

“Yes, old man,” he continues. “It’s…a reminder. Like I’m not good enough.”

Your confusion is at an all time high, but he continues anyway. “I know you could probably find someone better—younger, for sure. I just…I don’t know. Just want you to stay, I guess.”

His words ring in your ears, but they take a while to register. The absurdity of it, even the concept of you leaving him…it almost makes you laugh. Almost.

“So, you think I’m gonna leave you just because of a grey streak?”

“That’s the gist of it, yeah.”

You shake your head, pulling the brush from his hands. Your fingers trace his face, the crows feet that line his eyes when they close, the slight wrinkles that form when he leans into your touch with a smile.

“Lo, you are an old man.”

His eyes open, eyebrow raised towards you. “Way to boost my confidence—“

“—Shh,” you interrupt. “I’m not finished.”

Lips pursed, he nods and stays silent as you continue.

“You’re an old man Logan, but you’re also my old man,” you whisper. “I love you for all of you—and everything that comes with you isn’t something I’m willing to part with. You could be as wrinkly and grey as you want and it wouldn’t change a damn thing.”

The change is instant, his face softening as you pour your heart out. The sudden confidence practically glows from him, large hands reaching up to cradle your face. “You really mean that, huh doll?”

A nod. “Every word.”

His eyes dart to the bottle of hair dye, and with a shrug he snatches it from the counter and throws it into the trash. “Guess I won’t need this anymore.”

“Good choice.” You say, walking back into the living room. “Besides, grey looks good on you.”

————————————————————————

“Oh, and Logan?”

“Yes doll?”

“If you ever try a stunt like that again you’ll be sleeping on the couch for a month.”

“….Yes ma’am.”

[a-ikuoliver]

honing your kickboxing skills with pro hero dynamight can lead to a) insane improvements of your skills, becoming the best version of yourself with each critique you get, b) a crush like no other you’ve ever had in your life, or c) all of the above?

pairing: pro hero!katsuki bakugou x f!reader w/c: 9.3k warning/s: fem!reader (“girl”, “cunt”, “pussy” used) slight age gap but not a main plot point, a lil bit of violence, making out, brattish reader, choking (ish), hair pulling, dry humping, slight edging, public sex, unprotected sex, panty stealing, implied use of birth control notes: this post was fucking me up man, uh also ik bakugou is cracked in hand to hand, just have a fun make believe moment where this seems realistic LMAO also apologies for how long my sentences are :// im a yappy girl crossposted to ao3 • masterlist • wip updates & voting • kofi • askbox

sucking in a deep, controlled breath, you let the air slowly escape your lips as your head fell back, gently leaning on the mirrored wall of the elevator; nearly impossible to hear the ding of your arrival onto the gym floor over the blood still pounding in your ears. you always took this moment to yourself at the end of a patrol, deep meditative breaths to relax, to ease yourself into the mindset you needed for your evening training, clearing your head and trying to focus on your muscles instead of any unpredictable thing that happened on your patrol. tonight was different, the last time you would train without your favourite hero; it was impossible for you to calm your heart rate down, your body buzzing in anticipation, and you couldn’t even lie about why. excited, borderline desperate to work beside the one hero who had your cheeks flushing before your workout even began again. you were always happy to see some of the other heroes you admired, the high-end gym attracting plenty of rookie heroes like yourself, and even more pro heroes, but none catching your eye quite like him. tonight, it was empty, the timed lights flickering on the moment the elevator doors opened, revealing the long wall of mirrors, bouncy dark grey mats lining the floor, red punching bags hanging from the ceiling beside the free-standing ones, and weight racks further up in the room and a floor and cardio section around the corner of the wall.

the clean, structured gym reminds you of your high school gym where you first fell in love with kickboxing, although that had a far smaller blue ring for you to spar with your classmates in. much like the agency leader, you worked every spare moment you could to climb your way to the top of your class, never once missing a chance for training in high school, refusing to fall behind in your dream to become a hero, your reflexes and quirk growing stronger in the three years you trained there, your favourite teacher once reminding you they had needed to changed the worn down mats so often he’d lost count. smiling to yourself, you followed the wall and entered the showers just past the rowing machines, slipping out of the hero costume and into your comfortable gym wear, the dynamight agency logo embossed on the chest of your loose, airy shirt, one of the best agencies japan had to offer.

aside from the top-of-the-line gym being available to you at any time with your staff key, the best part of the dynamight agency gym was who frequented the gym. when you were first hired, the gym was crawling with fellow rookie heroes destressing after their first patrols as full fledged pros, all of your class scattering to agencies around japan right after graduation, some of your classmates joining you here in your first year, now, two years later, only a few of them remained at the same agency, and fewer staying on the same schedule as you. you still saw a few here and there, mostly while you were patrolling; but now your schedule finished your patrol at the quietest time in the agency, especially its gym, passing red riot only once as he was in the elevator going down, dyed hair still damp from his shower and dressed in a casual shirt that clung so tight around his forearms you wondered if he bought his shirts one size too small. you’d cooled down on the treadmill three times so far next to the cheerful chargebolt and cellophane, both of them egging each other on, hearing one bet the other on who could do more pull-ups every single time they were in here, the competition fairly even last you remembered.

but the one that kept you coming back night after night, excitement and nervousness bubbling inside you every time your eyes locked onto his carnelian ones, was the agency’s namesake, dynamight. you saw the hero at least once a week, always with sweat plastering ash blond to his forehead, his lower lash line smudged with leftover black face paint (he’d demanded you stop calling it his makeup despite his brand of eyeliner being the same as yours) and his shirt clinging to his skin if he kept it on, happening so often now your heart would stutter and your smile falter if you didn’t see the explosive bakugo.

you’d be lying if you tried to say seeing him didn’t do twice to motivate you, the ease with which the hardened hero consistently got you into submission had you working out for double the time you typically would, fixating on the way his thighs would pin your shoulders to the mat while he held your hand to his chest, forcing your head down until you gave up wiggling and would tap twice wherever on his body you could reach. you hated to admit it, but he had you submitting so often, you’d usually start complaining about his victory the moment you recognised the movement of his legs coming to wrap around your body, knowing without a doubt it would end with you panting, pressed to the mats and usually trying to get any sort of advantage over him that you could. he was the only one you lost to every time, the idea of one day having his body pinned beneath yours keeping you infinitely motivated, pushing yourself further and harder. you made your way home most nights with his glowing red eyes burned into your mind, his teeth bared in a crazed smile each time he got you underneath him, memories replaying in your head of the times the god-like man would joke with you, “who’s the best? who’s the king, sweetheart?”, waiting for you to agree before he’d release his strong hold on you, just to rub salt in the wound, always that stupid, arrogant smirk on his face.

god, he was addictive.

your determination to reverse the roles had you beating into the punching bag with everything you had, your hits landing in quick succession, the weighted bag hardly having enough time to swing back into place before you’d land another blow on it. you were distracted today, not being able to shake your longing for a proper spar with bakugou while swinging your fist forward again, pouting slightly when you connected with sand instead of muscle. you hated the way the bag couldn’t fight back, defend itself the way he would, hating that the bag didn’t stare down at you the same way he did, blond hair blocking the fluorescent lighting bearing down behind him, leaving his features hidden in the shadows; his ruby gaze all that was discernible. most of all, you hated that the punching bag didn’t keep you on your toes, no strong legs to sweep your own feet out from beneath you, no hands to catch your punches, the sand-filled bag made for nothing except taking the force of your punches.

with a grunt, you kicked the side of the punching bag where his muscular thigh would be, knocking it to the floor with an echoing thud, letting out a breathless laugh, imagining bakugou’s gorgeous face in its place on the ground, smug grin wiped off of his face, criticism dying on his lips in place of his submission. you felt your body flush with heat at the picture in your mind, looking forward to seeing him again, longing to hear the heavy panting and his echoing grunts whenever you landed a jab on him.

having gone without hearing or seeing him for nearly six weeks now, you were becoming more and more desperate to prove yourself and claim your victory over the one person you’d never beaten hand-to-hand, and just maybe, to hear his wolfish laugh and smell his addictive mix of spicy cologne and sweet sweat.

standing the weighted bag back up on its base, you flexed your hands before going back to hitting it with your all, the bag barely stabilising when you hit it again, your knee landing with an echoing thump moments before your fist connected in the centre of the bag, right where bakugou’s solar plexus would be if he were the one standing in front of you.

you watched the bag bounce back, waiting for it to settle on its base before you glanced up to the clock to see 3:02am blinking back at you. already here an hour later than you’d usually stay, you took a deep swig from your cold water bottle, deciding to stay one more hour before you’d go home, rationalising you didn’t need a full eight hours of sleep until you had bakugou beneath you, your thighs wrapped around him until he tapped your knee in submission like you’d had to do to him countless times before. the thought of beating your boss had a surge of adrenaline and endorphins pumping into your blood; your foot planted on the mat while your other swung forward, forcing the punching bag skittering several feet back across the floor. you finished your rotation, landing back in your defensive stance with your feet planted and your fists in front of your smiling face. 

“that was better,” smiling, you breathlessly muttered praise, the same way bakugou would if you’d landed that hit on him.

you jumped, your head whipping around to face where a deep voice had echoed your words, the tone more matter-of-fact, compared to your high, excited one. you kept your fists high and just beneath your squared shoulders, elbows beside your ribs. your eyes narrowed to search the darkness near the edge of the room, worried the noise was simply part of the low, fast beat playing through the speakers scattered across the ceiling.

“settle down, extra, ‘m not here to hurt you.” his voice was rough, and thick with sleep, becoming more apparent when he stepped into the white lighting of the gym and you saw his mussed hair and slightly puffy eyes, dressed in loose, comfortable clothes and holding a plain black canvas bag in his left hand. your heart jumped into your throat at the sight of him, relaxing only as much as your thrumming veins could let you, a whole new electrical current surging through you not letting your shoulders slump or your thighs mirror his casual stance, his proximity already having your mind grow foggy despite the older hero still standing metres across the room.

almost as if he wanted your heart racing, he made his way to you across the room, his vermillion eyes dropping from your gaze to rake over your body, taking in your stance, “lazy, keep your fists in line with your shoulders, always expect ‘em to fight back.”

his voice was uncharacteristically gentle as he criticised you, muffled while his virile hands rubbed over his tired features, clearing his throat, his voice grew a touch in volume, “what are you even doin’ here at three in the morning?”

you ignored his question momentarily, fixing your fists to be in line with your squared shoulders, raising your eyebrow in a silent question of approval, dropping your arms and adjusting to a more casual position once he nodded, “gotta beat you somehow,”

bakugou laughed, no cackled, at your confident tone, not in a condescending way, but a more surprised laugh, your response seemingly catching him off guard, expecting a typical “i wanna crack the top 20!” rather than a personal mission to best him. returning his smile, you turned around to throw on your loose top, the fabric clinging to your slick, hot skin, figuring your boss was about to tell you to go home and rest and start some hypocritical lecture about burning the wick at both ends without any sleep. as soon as the shirt was pulled off your face and your eyes met him again, you continued, “what about you? did you get home last night?”

he nodded instead of speaking at first, his fiery red eyes tracking your every movement while you packed away your equipment scattered around the grey floor you were moving around between, keeping only your towel on top of your bag, your water bottle beside it and your phone next to that.

“just got back, was gonna drop some shit off,” he lifted the bag in a gesture to it, before placing it on the ground beside yours, the canvas rustling but no other noise coming from it to indicate it was heavy, the blond hero seemingly only dropping it because he planned to stay rather than follow his initial plan, “saw the lights, n’ then i heard that fuckin’ music you’re always listenin’ to.”

feigning offence at his distaste for your music, you held a still-wrapped hand to your heart, sure your eyes gave away the lovesickness you felt with him recognising the song instead of the faux venom you were aiming for. you turned back around after brushing off his insult, sliding the punching bag back across the grey mat to its spot between the countless others lining the wall, missing the way his tired eyes dropped to stare at the back of your thighs in your workout shorts, watching the way your muscles twitched when you planted your feet to push it the final foot into its place. his reflexes still fast enough to flick back to your face when you turned to tease him over your shoulder, “that’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, i never knew jet lag would make you such an angel.”

the blond hero barked out a too-loud laugh for the time of night it was, but it had you smiling widely, the look in his eyes a mirror to your own, all trace of sleep replaced with the easy playfulness you fell into together; the teasing, tension and challenge swirling in the air whenever you two were drawn into each others gravity. your stomach flipped at the look in his eyes, trying to ignore your carnal need to let your eyes roam over him after so long, wanting to commit the look of him so comfortable and relaxed to memory, much like how the view of his sculpted, muscular back was imprinted in your mind. somehow, the way he was dressed had you nearly drooling, his attire nearly as sinful as when he was half naked with a sheen coating his exposed skin, hair darkened and sticking to his face, gym shorts hanging low, but you were sure he could make anything look borderline lewd.

you loved when you were alone with him, not having to hold back your impish jabs to stay professional in front of fellow heroes who didn’t understand the friendship you’d built with the explosive hero; but it did come with its downsides, it was impossible to sneak glances at him when there was no one else to distract him from your drifting eyes. you especially loved the exasperated look he got when he was grappling in the ring with you and someone interrupted him, eyebrows furrowed and red eyes glaring at whoever announced dynamight had an “urgent” phone call, typically it being his pr team readying some statement for him on the other end.

he never looked at you that way. carnelian eyes always swimming with something else you could never place your finger on, but it was far from the disgruntlement he looked at everyone else with.

“you really think so?” his husky voice snapped you out of your deep thoughts, your eyes meeting his gaze boring into you once again, butterflies erupting in your stomach at the look. could he hear your thoughts? did he know the way you looked at him when he wasn't watching you? your mouth was bobbing open and shut with these questions swimming in your mind for a second before you found your voice again to innocently question him, “think what?”

“that you can beat me.” he quoted back to you, ruby red eyes staying on yours even while he dropped himself onto the weight-lifting bench beside him, his thighs spreading as he tilted his chin up at you, challenging you, “i already had to fix your stance, extra, you think you’ll ever land a hit on me like that?”

narrowing your eyes you spun on your heel to stalk towards the cushioned mats, the ring you were both all too familiar with, your fingertips buzzing at the challenge hanging in the air, “try me.”

“don’t threaten me with a good time,” bakugou teased, watching the way your wrapped hands twitched at your sides, fingers flexing to confirm the red wrap wasn’t going anywhere. you rolled your eyes in response, knowing his idea of a good time was kicking your ass.

he stayed on the bench, his nonchalant posture betrayed only by his eyes tracking you like a hunter, not a single movement you made went unnoticed by the seasoned hero, every single twitch, every breath caught by his expert gaze. you stood your ground, quirking an eyebrow in a silent challenge, not showing your tentativeness at what might happen if he did decide to stalk over to you; you’d been working your hardest in the past four weeks to try and shock him with your skills, who’s to say he wasn’t working, all the same, to be even less predictable in the ring with you?

“you scared?” you retorted, returning the smirk that was glued to his face when he did exactly what you hoped he would; standing straight from the bench to pull his shirt over his head, tearing his eyes from your hungry ones only for the split second the fabric shielded his face from you, throwing the black cloth to the ground beside his bag while he took long strides over to you. you’d never admit it aloud to a single soul, but your heart skipped a beat the moment he was in front of you again, standing to his full height, predatory eyes always observing. he was closer to you than before, the scent that was so him was radiating from him, invading your senses, any plan of attack clouded by the way you’d missed him. not even within a foot from you and he already had you mesmerised like that was his quirk, all your excitement of seeing him again twisting into nerves, your attraction to him hitting you like a brick wall.

you shook your head, trying to clear your mind, fixing your fists in line with your shoulders while bakugou circled the mat for a few moments before stopping again in front of you. with his heels planted and standing in a defensive stance, he waited for you to make the first move, he tauntingly stood still, looking like a carved statue, or maybe like the muse for one, perfectly still while artists chipped away to recreate his likeness. you took in one last calming, deep breath, willing your crush to subside for just a moment, just long enough to fulfil your craving.

with the older hero poised and waiting for your first attack, you decided not to keep him waiting any longer, jumping at him faster than you could dream of being capable of a month ago, catching a satisfying flash of shock across his features mere milliseconds before you landed your first blow; your fist connecting with his arms in front of his face in a block, forcing a grunt from his lips, the blow harder than he was used to from you.

bakugou tried to hide his admiration for your determination to prove to him that not only could you beat him, but you would. you landed one more hit on his stomach with a strong fist while he was lost in his thoughts, his elbows not swinging down fast enough to protect himself from your fist connecting.

any trace of apprehension you had disappeared after successfully knocking the breath from the fiery blond, stepping back with renewed energy, blowing on your fist to rub salt in the wound at landing a hit on him so quickly. he laughed wolfishly at your joking, his demeanour minutely switching, biceps flexing when he moved as he retorted, “oh, sweetheart, you’re in for it now.”

your smirk faltered, your swollen ego deflating like a popped balloon when he lunged at you, lifting your arms in a block when he was only inches away, landing punches on you every chance he got. the blows were little more than love taps, not exactly soft, but not enough to put you out of commission, serving more as a lesson that he would always be the king of kickboxing. you blocked another hit aimed at your face, baring your teeth as you finally remembered you could move, swinging your leg up, landing the harsh kick to the side of his thigh with a roundhouse kick, having just finished your rotation around before you kicked again, this time your heel landing squarely in his chest before he could recover enough to block you.

your kicks knocked him backwards, giving you only seconds to stalk over to him before he’d recover and have you half regretting the decisions that led you here; you landed only a few more hits to his chest and face, bakugou parrying and dodging nearly all of them, his vermillion eyes locked on you, watching the way you watched him, trying to predict the way he’d defend himself. he noted the way you weren’t focusing on landing one type of hit on him, evenly balancing kicks and jabs at him, one thing he was constantly pointing out to you, his biggest criticism was always your predictability. 

inches away from the edge of the ring, you retreated only slightly, thinking for a split second before you decided to spin around with your elbow ready to strike, hoping when your elbow connected with his cheek he would be dazed enough for you to get behind him and get him to the floor. instead, your body jolted, being met with six feet of pure muscle, warm hands gripping your elbow, keeping it a mere inch away from connecting right beside his hypnotising eyes, you sucked in a surprised gasp, knowing his bicep would be around your throat in the blink of an eye, his mischievous eyes clear he thought he’d won.

“what was it you said?” you growled, swinging your your arm back with more strength than any of your previous blows, your free elbow landing into his solar plexus; the hulking man grunting more with shock than you knocking the breath from him and knocking his balance, but you took your chance to escape his grasp while you could. you whipped around once more, staring down at bakugo’s kneeling frame with an insane smile growing on your face, planting your heel to land your finishing kick to his chest.

“always expect them to fight back?” you were getting cocky now.

katsuki’s eyes widened, not having quite enough time to stand back to his full height and slip past you, choosing instead to block your blow, not pushing you aside but catching it; sliding one warm hand up your ankle, tugging you closer with a strong grip until your ankle was beside his hip and his other hand reached up in line with the centre of your chest, a powerful strike from his palm knocking you completely off balance and onto your back. winded, you landed with a grunt, staring up at bakugo’s ever-smug face hanging right above yours, his hips between your own, still keeping a tight grip on your ankle in his left hand, his free forearm pressing down across your heaving chest. you were effectively pinned beneath him, his entire body weight bearing down against you, preventing your free leg from kicking him off you, and your arms unable to reach high enough to land a punch with his muscular arm keeping your shoulders hard to the mat.

it was an undeniable win, even without having you in a chokehold.

“you’re so fucking–” you whined like a child, thrashing as much as his body would allow, wanting him off you before his gloating started and you’d have nowhere left to look except his soft, smirking lips.

“strong? mighty? the king? feel free to stop me when i’m right.”

“annoying.” your head fell back onto the cushioned mat in defeat, avoiding his garnet eyes, not wanting to see the addicting, animalistic look he got in his eye whenever he won. the hero still above you laughed in response to your childish whines, his chin falling to his chest and his body shaking with the rumbling laugh, your heart clenched at the sound. he readjusted his weight while still laughing, his hips and forearm lifting off your skin to leave you cold for just a moment.

long enough of a moment for you to blindly try to buck him off you again; your right leg still in his hold, but leaving your left leg free to kick his shoulder, doing little more than slide you backwards on the mat a foot or two, not nearly enough for you to stand up and attempt to disarm him. millions of thoughts were running through your head, every one a different strategy for your escape, to get behind bakugou and circle your bicep around his throat.

you lifted your leg again, your thigh flexing with the movement, about to kick out once more to free your ankle still trapped in his hot grip; interrupted by the blond diving on you, looking more like a panther catching its fearful prey in its claws than a human man sparring with a friend, his teeth were bared, pointed canines poised to tear you to shreds. landing back on top of you, he had his thighs between your hips again, the soft fabric hiding the pure muscle beneath it, the strength in his legs keeping you from moving again, and your legs caught beneath his arm, calves pinned to his ribs, immobilising your lower half. his thick fingers were looped around your neck, his chest so close to yours that if you took a deep enough breath, your chests would touch.

“you think you can get away from me that easily?” you held your breath, his voice the softest you’d ever heard it, deeper than when he barked orders or laughed like a crazed man, hot fingertips twitching against your racing pulse. his breath was fanning across your face as he whispered, his narrowed eyes flicking back and forth between your wide, shocked ones, your mouth dropping open to try and retort in the same second your thighs tensed around his body, pulling him closer in the most minute way. his heaving chest and stomach were pressed to yours, body heat becoming one, the only part of your bodies not joined were your heads, yours still resting against the mat, and his inches away, reading your face. without another word, bakugou’s face split into a signature grin, his head cocked to the side when he leaned impossibly closer to you; his muscular frame keeping you trapped under his heated gaze, whispering right to you, “is that what it is huh? never wanted to beat me, you jus’ wanted this?”

you stared dumbly up at him, unable to force your vocal cords to defend yourself in any way when his intoxicating, spiced scent was clouding your mind; trying to formulate a thought that wasn’t about the feeling of his warm abdomen against yours proving impossible, “tch, dirty girl.”

your heart stuttered in your chest, your breath hitching at his words, you closed your mouth, well aware that whatever sound came out of your mouth was not going to be something that would help your defence. his tongue darted out to wet his lips, your eyes flicking down to watch the way the muscle swiped across his pink lips before returning behind his teeth, eyes tracking his every movement while he tracked your stare. you tore your eyes away from his mouth, trying your best to harden your gaze when you looked back up to his eyes, your attempt to appear indifferent promptly failing when his sharp chin twitched, his lips only a hair's-breadth away from catching yours.

your chin twitches, desperate to close the space, to know what his lips would feel like pressed to yours with a fierce passion.

any attempts to close the space between you were dashed by his grip just tightening around your throat, keeping you at his mercy, unable to escape the way his blood red eyes bored into yours, as if he was reading your thoughts so clearly you may as well have shouted them from the agency’s rooftop.

his voice was husky, breathy, when he spoke again, “i fuckin’ knew it.”

it was a barely audible mumble, followed by him ducking his head to fill the tiny distance separating you, finally joining your bodies together entirely with his lips pressing to yours. he kissed you with the same ferocity he fought you with, something you eagerly returned, the feeling of his lips and exploring tongue had you nearly ready to snap, your body already wound tight from the last few hours already, his soft lips doing nothing to dull the electricity zapping between your bodies. he kept his smiling lips pressed to yours until he felt your taped hand snake around his wrist to hold him close, and your groans vibrated against his lips.

“i fucking knew it.” bakugou's deep laugh rumbled in his chest, repeating himself, his tone more relieved, more confident than his mumble before, although still breathless. his calloused hands still kept you under his control, glowing eyes staring down at your closed ones, your lips still parted and breathing heavily, your heartbeat fluttering beneath his fingertips whenever they tensed at all. you opened your glazed eyes to meet his hungry ones, only just catching the flash of his sharp smile at you again, your mind empty except for the need to feel him against you again and again.

ignoring the way his fingers dug into your skin to keep you still, you leaned up at the same time you reached your right hand up to bury it in the blond spikes at the back of his head, pulling him down to meet your lips in the middle again, not caring for the way you messily kissed him; lips bruising, spit mixing and teeth clashing. this time, you had him groaning against your lips when you nipped at his bottom lip, sucking it between your own, your hips jerking against his at the guttural sound.

almost as if your hips squirming against his brought him back to reality, he loosened his grip on your ankle, a warm hand gliding up your leg to roam over your thigh, abdomen and hip, roughly squeezing your hip in his hand, while the one around your throat caressed the delicate skin at your pulse point. moaning softly against his lips, you let your head fall back with your eyes squeezed shut, pressing your hips to his while sucking in deep breaths, kissing him was knocking the breath from your lungs more than his strikes did.

staring at the older hero with half-lidded eyes, you unabashedly admired him, addicted to the sensation of his fingers sliding down your chest, between your breasts, to rest at the hem of your shirt, flicking it off your hot skin, watching the way your muscles jumped at his every move.

closing your eyes again, an idea flashed in your mind, the mischievous thought cutting through the fog to land in the forefront of your mind; wasting no time, you took the opportunity to bring it to life while he was distracted by the feeling of your warm body pressed against his.

without wasting another moment, you tighten your loose grip in his hair, just enough to make him hiss in response to your fingertips scratching his sensitive scalp, his head falling backwards with a yank; your right hand reaching from his wrist to his shoulders with lightning speed, shoving him back with enough force, and with his distraction at your advantage, he lost his balance. he landed on his back with a quiet thump on the soft mats, his strong grip on your hips dragging you into his hold before you had the chance to adjust your body entirely, leaving you with no choice but to tighten your hold and land above him with your knees on either side of his hips. hastily, you slid your hand from his shoulder to pin him down with a forearm pressing at the base of his throat, pinning his shoulders, the same position you were in moments ago, this time your strong thighs either side of his hips and your forearm at his neck immobilising him.

you stared down at bakugou with a hungry look of your own sparkling in your eyes, leaning closer and closer to press your chest to his, your deep breaths mingling with his. any anxiety you felt about ruining the friendship you built fading with every passing second you stared into his carnelian eyes, fear pushed aside by the need to keep your lips pressed to his, and hands exploring each other's bodies, but you always made room in your clouded mind for one more snarky comment; “i always knew you’d look this good once i got you under me.”

the blond barked out a sharp, condescending laugh, your arm across his shoulders doing little to prevent him from reaching one of his hands up to grab you by the back of your neck, bringing your greedy lips to his again, pausing just before they connected to retort, “you haven’t done a thing i haven’t let you do, extra.”

a growl reverberated through your chest, your lip pulling back to snarl at him; his words had no bite but they still had adrenaline bubbling in your chest, any grumbling cut off by his lips slamming against yours in a rough kiss, sharp teeth dragging over soft lips, nearly cutting the plump skin. bakugou pulled your hips down to meet his bucking ones with strong calloused hands digging into your skin to keep your hot skin against his, guiding your movements while you sucked his tongue into your mouth. you revelled in the way his heart thumped under your touch, goosebumps erupting on the forearm you kept hard against his chest, refusing to let the experienced hero steal too much control back from you, the tight pectorals flexing under you giving you little reassurance you had any to begin with, aware he’d have you winded, several feet across the floor if he really wanted to show his strength.

tugging at his hair once more, you unceremoniously dropped your hand from his hair to glide down his body, dull nails dragging down his neck to the sweaty muscles of his chest, dipping into every defined divot of his abdomen you could reach, desperate to explore every inch of his body. reaching the elastic of his waistband, you paused, breaking the kiss but keeping the sensual, slow pace of your hips against his while you both gulped in deep breaths from the passionate kisses, your head lolling back with a high-pitched gasp when the seam on your gym shorts bumped your throbbing clit with a well-timed roll of your hips on his.

you had little power to stop katsuki from tightening his hold in the hair at the base of your neck, pulling you back to meet his lips with his teeth bared, your parted lips stopping just above his own when you caught yourself, your hand slipping from his throat to land beside his head with a slapping sound, keeping you only an inch above falling entirely onto him. as ravenous as you, he craned his neck to meet you halfway, his swollen lips latching onto your neck with hot, open-mouthed kisses, uncontrollable, breathy moans slipping from your mouth when his pointed canines grazed against your tender pulse points.

“that all it takes to get you moanin’?” he asked sarcastically, glassy, dark garnet eyes staring into yours when he dragged his teeth over the same spot once more, smirking against your skin when another sweet moan escaped you, the rhythm of your hips stuttering when he sunk his teeth harder into your skin, indenting your skin with his bite. your lust-filled eyes flashed with a playful glimmer, shoving his shoulders back until he was lying back on the mat, the bigger hero grunting at your show of force, half surprised by it, but mostly hard at your display of strength and determination to make him submit to you, even if he knew it wouldn’t happen.

“shut up,” you mumbled, your voice dropping lower and lower the closer you got to him, mirroring the kisses he’d placed on you; first pressing your lips to his adam’s apple, then another, harder kiss to the side of his throat, licking up the side of his neck until you reached just beneath his ear, sinking your teeth into the salty skin, the sound of his breath catching in his throat making your eyes turn to hearts. you opened your mouth against his skin, wanting to make your mark on his flawless skin.

“don’t even think about it, dumbass.” katsuki tried to sound venomous, threatening as to what would happen if you drew any blood to the surface of his skin, but his panting betrayed him, his glaring eyes lacking any meanness behind them, only lust reflecting in his blown pupils.

“oh please, katsuki, all your blood is rushing far from your head right now, i couldn’t get a drop out of you–”

your teasing and giggling were interrupted by the feeling of your weight shifting once again, his agile movements too quick for you to catch, unconcerned about restraining himself if it meant having you pinned under him again. once more, you were in the cliche position; your slick back on the stuffed mats, and the seasoned hero leering over you, this time he had your wrists pinned to your thighs with his knees holding them on either side of you, having torn them from his shoulders amidst flipping you off of him. thrashing again, you planted your feet and raised your hips to try and buck him off, stretching your neck off the mat, prompting him to pin your cheek back down to the mat, his warm hand holding your jaw to the side, while the other was sliding up the divot between your thighs, leaving tiny goosebumps in his wake until his thick fingers grazed over the heat radiating at the peak of them, “rich comin’ from you, i can already feel how wet you are n’ i’ve hardly touched you.”

his warm breath tickled your ear when he gloated, the hairs on the back of your neck standing when a shiver passed through your spine. noting your reaction to his gravelly voice, he pressed harder to your cheek to hold you still while he toyed with you, lazily circling his fingers over your clothed cunt, admiring the wet fabric beneath his fingertips. without even glancing up at the hero, you could picture the smug grin clearly on his face, crimson eyes monitoring every jump of your heart rate, every twitch in your hips, every flutter of your eyelids, lust-blown pupils honed into the way your bit at your lips, holding a deep breath in your chest to keep yourself from moaning salaciously.

“like you’re any bet-ter, i can feel your dick through those t-tiny shorts,” stuttering with every brush against your cunt, you tried to mimic his mean tone, your body revealing your true need to reach for him when your hands twitched against his muscular legs, desperate to dig your nails into him until he was melting into your touch, desperate to brutalise him with your affection.

“you get this hard with everyone?” you mocked his tone once more, trying, and failing, to keep your tone even as possible with your eyes mapping what the inside of your skull looked like at the euphoric feeling of his fingers exploring your skin, paying no mind to the fact you were entirely at his mercy. your hips bucked into his touch, betraying your attempt at indifference, a quiet moan escaping from your plush lips at his skilled ministrations, lightening jolting from his fingertips every time the pad of his thumb pressed against your clothed clit. sucking his teeth with disapproval, katsuki tore your shorts down your thighs in response to your restrained noise, the stitching of the garment straining to stay attached in his rough grip. shifting his knees to adjust your pinned hands, he cleared the way for the fabric to be yanked finally your ankles.

the moment your shorts were torn from your body, his strong hand returned to your wrists, snatching them and holding them above your head, taking advantage of your delirious, love-drunk state to manipulate your body exactly where he wanted it; knees knocking apart your own, his hand drifting from your cheek to your chin, tilting your head to stare back up at his sculpted face. he caught your lips in a searing kiss again, the tip of his nose pressed hard against your cheek while his hand fell from your face entirely to trail down your body, calloused fingertips sending electric shocks straight to your heart with every inch they travelled, only stopping once he reached the waistband of your panties. the older blond slipped his fingers between your burning skin and the elastic, flicking it against your skin to elicit a tiny gasp from you, taking advantage of your parted lips to let his tongue slide against yours.

he had you mewling within seconds, his two fingers rubbing your clit over your underwear getting you closer and closer to cumming without the satisfaction of his fingers even dipping inside the soaked fabric, already too sensitive from his barely-there touches and the feel of his tongue. stubbornly, you held your breath, tensing your thighs around his, refusing to climax after only a little petting and kissing, determined not to let him see what his skilled touch did to you. bakugou pulled away from you, your mouths connected for a moment longer by a string of shared saliva before you broke it with a garbled cry, his fingers pressing into your dripping pussy through your panties, the rough feeling of the fabric and his hard fingers pressing just inside you driving you crazy, the hero nearly succeeding in making you cream before he even had your panties off.

“i don't know why you’re trying to hide those pretty sounds, sweetheart, your pussy isn’t holding back about how bad she wants me.” you stared up at him with glassy eyes, the bright lights behind him haloing his head, leaving him looking like an angel despite his sinful words making your pussy clench. his ruby eyes locked on the way your cunt quivered the second he pulled his hand away to tug down the waistband of his gym shorts and briefs in one motion, leaving only your panties still separating the two of you. your gaze dropped from his face, watching instead the way his cock sprung from the confines of his cotton underwear to bob against his scarred, tanned skin, the moans you’d been holding in spilling from your lips at the sight. without another thought, you lifted your hips, rubbing your still-clothed cunt on his cock, his eyes squeezing shut with a deep moan of his own at the sensation of the cotton separating you rubbing over his sensitive cockhead. 

“hurry up and do something worth screamin’ about then.” your voice hardly above a whisper when you pleaded, the blond smiling wolfishly, snatching at the challenge you dangled in front of him like it was a five-course meal served on a silver platter for him to savour. despite the arrogance radiating from him, he was squeezing the base of his cock staring down at you, trying to regain some semblance of control over himself while you writhed and sighed beneath him; ready to cum at the way you keened into his touch when he tore the waistband of your panties down your hips swiftly. 

“not even a “please, katsuki”?” he bullied, tucking your plain panties in the pocket at his thigh while you were distracted, not wanting to hear your teasing at his perverted actions, he’d controlled himself for two years, he wasn’t going to give them up now. katsuki adjusted himself between your thighs, languidly fisting his thick cock, while inching closer to you, ending with your knees either side of his hips and your wrists still trapped above your head. your hard eyes were boring into his burning red ones, your mouth opening to retort with another insult, bratty words dying on your lips in place of a yelp when he bumped the head against your sensitive clit, teasing you once more, “what was that, baby?”

glaring up at him, your hips bucked again, growing more and more desperate for his dick inside you, “fuck you, kats–” 

he had his cock bullying deep inside you in one easy, swift motion, cutting you off before you could finish spitting out his name. his laugh morphed to a deep groan the deeper he got inside of you, a quiet sigh escaping you both when his sensitive head jutted the lewd, spongy spot deep inside your cunt. with his hips flush against yours, your loud cry drowned out bakugou's own grunts at your tight pussy fluttering and squeezing his still dick.

true to your word, you lost yourself in your climax, with no hope of silencing your cries of pleasure, hips stuttering up against his, your cunt trying to suck him impossibly deeper. your head was swimming at how he felt buried in your guts, the sensation infinitely better than what you’d spent your days dreaming about since your first day at his agency, your fingers nothing compared to the way he had your endorphins pumping through your veins.

bakugou drank in the sight of you lost in your climax beneath him, your hair mussed and escaping from the elastic hairband desperately trying to hold it all still together, your shirt riding up to expose your sweating, heaving chest, your back arched perfectly, and a bead of sweat winding down your body like a road leading right to your dripping cunt, cream spilling down his veins to gather in a milky ring at the base. swearing, he adjusted himself, bumping your sensitive g-spot again, unable to wait any longer when you wiggled your hips further down onto him.

pulling his hips back, he sank slowly into you again, his gaze locked on your face for any trace of discomfort on your features, your pussy certainly wet enough for him to fuck you with ease, but still making sure you could handle the stretch of him in your tight pussy before ravaging you. he found nothing but undeniable pleasure swirling around in your eyes, clearly not enough to make you dumb yet.

“are you gonna fuck me properly, or just sit there staring at me?” you tried to sound apathetic, bored, to the feeling of his thickness stretching your cunt most deliciously, your voice cracking when he snapped his hips, your cum making it far too easy for the hero to reach an impossibly deep spot inside you.

with only a snarl as a reply, he released your hands above your head to grip your hips with both hands, pulling your hips up in time with his thrust forward into you, the sound of his hips slapping against the skin of your thighs muffled by your rhythmic, breathless squeals, barely having enough time to catch your breath before you’d be gasping out another moan. lost in ecstasy, you dumbly left your wrists above your head, oblivious they were unrestricted until his warm thumb swiped at your swollen clit, your hands launching to drag your nails down his bicep, revelling in his quiet hiss in your ear.

you'd never been more grateful for the soundproof walls of the gym, the main purpose for the music the heroes loved to play loud enough to deafen everyone else in the building, nonetheless thankful that anyone on the other floors would be oblivious that stoic, pro hero dynamight and his newest sidekick were wrapped around each other, lost in pleasure, your squeals growing louder and louder at every bump of his cockhead to your cervix, every agile slide in and out working you closer and closer to cumming around him again.

“god, katsuki, i’m so fucking close!” you mewled, your voice impossibly high and loud, echoing back from the mirrors for you to hear the debased way you sounded for him. your eyes were squeezed shut, muscles wound tight, mere seconds away from cumming on his dick, needing the slightest stimulation for the tight band inside you to snap, certain that if bakugou just blew his warm breath against your clit, you’d cum with a scream. groaning low in your throat, you dragged your hands down his chest, scratching gently at his abdomen, reaching between your bodies to swirl your fingers around the sensitive bud.

the same time you reached down, he stopped.

your hazy eyes snapped open, already glaring up at him, your voice little more than a whine, “you’re such a dickhead.”

“oh, were you about to cum?” he mocked with a saccharine smile, digging his fingers into your plush thighs, lifting one up and onto his chest, your ankle dangling over his shoulder forcing you to lie on your side with your sticky cunt spread and on display for him, positioned perfectly for the hero to watch you take him. he kept one hand on your thigh, bringing the other up your spine to bury in your hair, squeezing once to force your mouth open in a gasp, watching the way your features morphed from annoyance with him to borderline desperation, unable to grind against him the way you wanted now with his strong grip on your thigh and hair.

as if taking pity on your need to cum, he lined himself up again with your soaking pussy, fucking your slick back inside you, even deeper than you felt it before, feeling more like his dick was fucking into your stomach, reshaping the organ around his cock. clutching your trembling thighs, he grunted when your pussy hugged his cock like a vice, your soft walls fluttering around him, the new position forcing only short puffs of breath from the both of you as you grew closer and closer together.

“god, ka-katsuki,” your voice was nothing short of a squeal, “feels so good, ‘m gonna cum.” the words tumbled out of your mouth before you could have a second thought about it, your mind void of any thoughts other than how his twitching dick felt stretching you, shaping your cunt to be a perfect fit for him; the feeling of his sweating body sliding against yours, his fingers dipping between your bodies to finally have you seeing the blinding white you’d been chasing since he first spoke to you, your breathless squeals and moans drowning out any dirty talk he might’ve been murmuring back to you.

your hard breathing turned quickly to a soundless scream, his determined fingertips still circling your clit as you tried to twist and buck away from him, tears nearly welling in your lash line when you failed to escape him. you only felt relief when his hips jumped, rutting against yours. he pressed his chest to your side, dropping his hand to your thigh in a bruising grip, keeping you still and at his mercy while he tugged your hair, digging his fingertips into your scalp so hard you weren't sure if he’d broken the skin.

effortlessly, he had you seeing white in time with him, breathlessly moaning your delirious, cock-drunk praise, your pussy swallowing him deeper, until his warm cum was spilling in the innermost part of you, making your toes curl; his cum mixing with your own on his cock as he lazily, shallowly thrust into you once, twice more. you could already feel the mix sliding down your thighs, the only intelligible word falling from your lips being a weak, “wait,”

bakugou complied, nodding with his slick forehead pressed to your shoulder, his eyes squeezed shut as he tried to ignore the way your cunt was still spasming around his tender cock, as if trying to impossibly squeeze more cum out of him, a deep groan rumbling in his chest when he finally had to pull himself off of you when you nodded moments later. you tried to hold the whines that threatened to escape your parted lips, crying out at the loss of his body weight against you, and shivering at the cold air hitting the skin his body heat was burning before. you couldn't silence the whimper when he slid his thick cock from inside you. feeling full and stretched out in the best way, your body slumped, your muscles like jelly in his hands while he admired the perverted way your pussy looked used by him, gaping and sticky with cum, unable to stop the way his cock twitched again against his thigh at the sight. clearing his throat, katsuki mumbled an apology for leaving your skin cold, before placing you gently onto the mat, treating you far more delicately than he was minutes earlier when he was drilling into you, chasing his orgasm and unfalteringly working you to yours.

laughing, you muttered a quick response, dismissing his concerns; you sounded dreamy, nearly delirious, your voice still high and wavering, cracking at the end of the sentence, the smile on your face apparent in your voice, even with his back turned as he reached behind him to find your towel discarded nearby. you followed his movements, his body a magnet for your own, heart eyes zeroing in on his. together, you sat in comfortable silence for a moment, careful hands cleaning up the shared mess between you two, your head lolling to the side, your once tense bodies like goo on the floor.

bakugou shamelessly stared at you while you lazily searched for your panties, patting the mat randomly around you, your thin shirt still crumpled and creased above your navel, exposing even more skin to his hungry eyes, giving up quickly and turning your accusatory gaze on him. your face looked warmer, glowing, your eyes shining and glassy staring back into his, knowing the answer about your missing clothes before you could ask it. he looks similarly debauched, leaning on his elbow beside you with gym shorts haphazardly pulled up his hips, panties hardly obscured in his pocket, his sweating chest shining in the harsh white lighting, his abdomen tightening as he sat up entirely, stretching to lean over you, “i didn’t know you could look better than when you tap out under me.” 

“just wait ‘n see how much better i look on top of you.” you jabbed his naked chest with your finger, not missing the way his eyes flashed with the need to feel you riding his cock, to let you take everything you wanted from him with every grind of your hips.

you sat up on your elbows, narrowly avoiding smacking your forehead against his at your speed, hissing quickly at him when you spotted the flashing clock over his shoulder, 4:48am blinking on the clock face, nearly obscured by the sunrise's reflection “c’mon, we need to get dressed before someone comes in here.”

you reach a hand up to smack his shoulder playfully when he doesn’t move off of you, his reflexes startling you again when he catches your wrist before you can even disturb the air beside him, the same fiery twinkle in his eyes proving his incredible abilities to you again and again.

“this is my agency, dumbass, no one’s comin’ in here if i don’t want ‘em to.”

© all works belong to @a-ikuoliver, @gwen0m, and dlirious on archive of our own, do not plagiarise, translate, repost, feed my works into ai or recommend my work on other platforms, or bind my fanworks for sale.

[star2fishmeg]

115 Childhood best friends to lovers and 6 I could just kiss you right now. Luke Hughes

Thank you for requesting <3 - Happy Halloween🎃 - Hi nonnie! I went with one prompt instead, hope that's all right!

FLUFF #6 "I could kiss you right now."

📞 dialling…

The October air nipped nasty, and chilly when it breezed over their skins, the only warmth being the heat that radiated off their bodies as y/n and Luke sat side by side on a bench against the house, donning their matching Cosmo and Wanda (Fairly Odd Parents) costumes. With their backs against the brick, they looked out absently into some frat’s busted back garden, plastic chairs scattered and the wet rings of a keg on the deck. 

She peered up at Luke, specifically the pink lipstick stain on his neck that she’d given him as part of their costume, and he’d be a liar if he said he didn’t feel something the second her lips landed on his skin. His headband with his little lopsided crown still intact, wand placed on the decking between them. He looked so handsome in his white shirt that hugged his arms and chest nicely, slacks, black and fit his thighs well, and the tie, oh, the tie drove her wild. Thoughts of pulling him around by it like a little lovesick puppy, loosening it. 

“Thanks for uh, doing this with me, even if I disappointed you by not being sexy. You saved my ass from being a third wheel or the odd one out, I guess. And thanks for agreeing not to do any of that, uh, dye or wigs or any of that shit, I just washed my hair.” She chuckled lightly, placing her makeshift wand next to her and wrapping her arms around her body. A jacket would have been smart, so would have wearing a top that covered a bit more on the chest and arms but committing to the costume was something she took seriously. Besides, there was nothing wrong with trying to attempt to grab Luke’s attention somehow.

He turned his head gently to face her, a soft smile across his lips and she watched the way his eyes scanned her face and chest under the dim porchlight, “No problem. You didn’t need to wear a sexy costume to get me to agree, by the way. You could’ve asked me to be a uh, a uh, crayon, and I would’ve ditched whatever Duker would’ve tried roping me into being for you.”

“Sure, that’s not what your eyes on my cleavage are telling me.” Her lips pulled into a smirk as his eyes jumped back to hers, his ears tinting pink. “I’m joking, you’re okay, I don’t mind.”

“Sorry, it’s just…um…I just-” his mouth faltered, opening to speak but nothing leaving his mouth. Y/n slid his wand from between them to the floor, scooting herself thigh against his, eyes almost sparkling as she waited for him. Luke’s chest only tightened, heat building on the back of his neck, “I just think you look pretty either way. All the time, actually.” 

Butterflies fluttered around her stomach, an adoring grin on her face that she couldn’t stop even if she tried, “Well, I think you look cute all the time, especially in your little crown tonight.”

He smiled and shook his head, hiding his pink face in his hands. He hated how easily he flushed, especially around her and he did it so often that he gave up finding excuses. Y/n’s giggles bloomed a warmth in his chest, his favourite kind of hug-like feeling that he only felt with her. Her smaller hands wrapped around his wrists, trying to pry away his hands with a little struggle until he let her win, allowing her to cup the backs of his hands on their thighs between them. Neither spoke, the comfortable silence falling around them with the buzz of the party inside being the only source of life. Eyes locking, hers widening ever so slightly the way they would whenever she looked at him, his relaxing as he chewed the inside of his cheek. The breeze through their hair, heat passing through their hands and a mutual transferring of sparks jolting between them.

“You’ve got that look on your face, what are you thinking?” She asked, thumbs stroking his palms.

His breathing shook gently, heart thudding harsher the longer they stared into each other like they’d painted the sky with constellations especially for each other, “That we’re alone…in a couples costume…and that we find ourselves like this all the time and…”

“...Aaaaand?” she raised an eyebrow.

With a low murmur, Luke exhaled, “...and that I could kiss you right now.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” she replied, softly. 

Her hands slid to his nape with confidence, tangling in the curls on the back of his head while his arm wrapped around her waist eagerly and his other hand settled on her thigh, heads tilting in opposite directions with no hesitation in leaning into each other’s bodies. The kiss was nothing but meaningful, fires igniting inside them when lips pressed into one another’s and hands kept each other close until after those few seconds of paradise, they pulled back for air, foreheads resting together, eyes burning. Fires only spread when Luke dipped back in, his kiss keen and fiery, one that had y/n moaning into his mouth as lips parted and reconnected, latching like they’d disappear if they were to let go.

The October air didn’t bite so nasty any more, not when Luke Hughes kissed her breathlessly.

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

Hiii!! I saw your requests were open & was wondering if you could do a hurt/comfort vi x f!reader (romantic but could be platonic I don’t mind). Reader could be from the undercity and have similar experiences w vi so they relate and understand each other on that level. Not rlly sure what the angst could be but there’s a lot of canon to work from (like maybe vi sees smth that reminds her of her time in prison? Or smth idk), and reader is there to like, comfort/ground her. Like overall vi has a shitty time but has someone in her corner to listen/comfort her and maybe give her a hug yk? Anyways tyyy!

Sure I can! Enjoy!

To Be Loved

Vi hadn’t seen you in so long, at least, that she can remember. The alcohol did that.

All she remembered now was the shame of you finding her in the cramped apartment, after seeing her brutal pit fight.

The blood coating her knuckles, the makeup and black hair dye. But under it all, it was still your Vi.

Your hands cradled her off the floor, and she couldn’t understand why, but the feeling of your hands on her skin once more, brought tears.

“Oh, Vi…”

“I’m- I’m so tired, (Name)…I can’t-“ Vi cried, snot rubbing onto your shirt as she sobbed and gripped onto it with all the strength she could.

“I couldn’t protect her- I let him down… I let everyone down.” Vi insisted. It was unspoken of the people she spoke of, their names were never said out loud but it was practically screaming.

You told the stories, shared the memories and the pain, but never said their names. It made it real. It seemed like it was barely hitting Vi just now…

That her life would never be the same. Powder wouldn’t come home after playing with Ekko, Claggor and Mylo wouldn’t be clambering around on the floor, and Vander would never call them for dinner in The Last Drop.

Ever again.

Her family was gone.

The realization made her ugly sob into your neck, the sound crackling throughout the room as you held the back of her head and rubbed her back as you both sat on the ground.

The ring was her way of punishing herself. To feel the pain in her mind she had caused Powder, caused Jinx and Vander and Mylo and Claggor, even Ekko.

“You didn’t fail them.” You insisted, shaking your head as you shushed her cries and holding her to you. She tried to rebuttal, shaking her head but you simply pulled back.

You cradled her face in your hands, the look on her face so similar to seven years ago.

You mustered up your best smile and shook your head as you wiped her tears and she stared and cried at the feeling.

“You were a kid, Vi. Nothing was your fault.” You whispered gently, pressing your forehead to hers. Your lashes almost tickled her cheeks, almost mixing with her tears as she sniffled.

“Vanders proud of you. Powder…she’s not dead. She’s still here…” You whispered softly, your hand faintly ghosting over her heart.

Even if Powder changed, no matter how much she rebutted her name and past, grew her hair and grew taller, she couldn’t rid herself of the prescrnse you and Vi had on her life. She was still Powder. Just different.

“I hurt her.” Vi stated, trying to avoid your gaze. You frowned, looking her over for a moment as you saw the shame. She never wanted to hurt Powder.

“You love her.” Was all you could offer, pressing a gentle kiss to your loves forehead as she closed her eyes.

Everything inside her hurt, everything was aching and she hated herself. She felt guilty for indulging in your comfort, in taking it.

But even if everything was falling apart, her home, you, was still standing.

Your soft hands cradling her, your lips ghosting over her cheeks, her nose, her lips, her forehead and brows and lashes…she couldn’t help but drown herself in it.

She held onto you. Gripping your shirt and fisting it between her fingers as she hid herself in the comfort you provided.

In your comfort, Vi knew she would be okay.

The steady beat of your heart just made it all the more real. The hands that cradled her made it all the more real.

And you sealed it with a kiss.

[flower-blossoms654]

I love that even though Isha doesn’t speak, we still have such a good feel of her character. She is not less than because she doesn’t speak, nor is she looked over. She’s bright in every scene she is in, Zaun’s little sun with a toothy smile.

Just for a moment, we got to see how brightly she too saw the world. A pretty, bright, blue world in which she found someone to love and protect her with a ferocity she trusted instead of feared.

It was that love that strengthened her legs, that gave her the courage to shoot forward. It was that love that steadied her arm with the gun to protect her older sister, when it once shook and struggled to pull the trigger.

Isha “the one who protects”. And she did that as many times as she could, with tiny fists and heart and eyes full of gold.

It was understood that they had a bond before. The way Jinx’s hideout became brighter, and there was a corner made just for Isha. The way that Isha wanted her hair dyed just like Jinx’s. The hugs and laughter and the way she screamed when having to leave Jinx behind. The way she fiddled with gears and markers and drew clouds on her skin with shiny metal securing two braids in her hair.

But it all seems to make sense in that final scene. When it’s just Isha. It’s no longer the signs or echoes of love but Isha telling the audience directly. This is her song. This is her strength. This is her sacrifice. This is her love for Jinx, in every happy memory she has had with her. She communicates in a way that is so Isha. “The world is beautiful and so is my older sister. I love her and I want to protect her.”

And it transcends words.

It is simple for Isha. Jinx made her have faith in herself. Gave her a safe space to live freely. Loudly. With wide smiles and explosions. Blue smoke and powder.

Dancing together. Laying together. Coloring beetles and bugs before a dramatic battle. Jumping without fear of the landing or the fall. Covering her eyes in the bath as dye stains her hair. Nails in pink and blue polish securing the braids in her hair. Spray paint in blue and pink (she let her be blue, she let her be blue) as they run after each other. A secret handshake with finger guns. Jumping to scare her big sister, and the smile she earned after.

She was not scared to fall before because Jinx was holding her hand. Her hand shifts to form a familiar finger gun and a silly little “poow” leaves her lips. She is smiling. She is not scared now because Jinx was never afraid of the fall and she won’t be either.

Jinx needed someone to love her instead of fear her. And she got it. Isha was not Silco, she did not need to be darkened and drenched in blood to love something so unloveable.

“You feel it? That buzzing behind your eyes? Because you know, in a moment, it could all…poow! Best feeling in the world, kid.”

Close your eyes. Hear the buzzing and it reminds you of her. It rings in your ears like an embrace. A life marked by bad luck but not ruined by it—a life made so immeasurably better.

To Isha, Jinx was perfect. No ���undoing” required.

[sp0o0kylights]

I once had to pose in a ton of photos for a friend's AP photography final back in high school so may I present to you:

Steve Harrington, who gave in to Robin's begging that he act as her weird art model for her senior year portfolio (the same one her teacher is encouraging her to bat out of the ballpark and enter into contests.) 

She's doing a whole thing on fashion, subcultures and sexuality using photos and collaged poetry, a project that has Steve trying on different outfits and posing in different places. 

"This might help me land a scholarship, Dingus." She hisses while she's got him bent over her bathtub, spraying parts of his hair blue with wash-out dye.

Steve, soulmate and best friend extraordinaire, goes through it all with minimal (for him) bitching, even if the goth outfit feels absolutely ridiculous, and the 'geek' photoshoot downright laughable.

He starts to have fun when she has him mimic Nancy's straight laced, all A's good girl aura, and equally has a blast with the country look (he has no idea where Robin got a miniature horse but it conned him for every piece of food he had on him and then some.) 

The final piece is the one they're struggling with, the one Robin's now (fake) dying his hair partially blue for. 

A few hours later and he's dressed up once again in a studded leather jacket, the tightest jeans he owns ringed with belts, and combat boots.

 Robin had even talked him into letting her use eyelash glue to attach a few metal studs on his face--two acting as an eyebrow piercing and one on his nose. 

The looks he drew took a minute to get used too when all was said and done, Robin dragging him around Hawkins while she tried to find the 'perfect backdrop' but he's not gonna lie. 

He kinda enjoys being punk Steve.

That is, until Robin has him posing in an alleyway and Eddie Munson comes around the corner, jaw right about falling to the floor.

Even better? 

Eddie doesn't recognize him. 

Not at first, when he siddles up to Steve, nodding to the handkerchief in Steve's back pocket and then flicking the pink triangle pin on his jacket with a finger. 

Steve owes Jonathan a bottle of his father's best alcohol for giving him enough knowledge to get through the music razing Eddie subjects him too, and Steve's all too happy to play the part of punk asshole to Munson's music-snob metalhead.

It's not until Eddies playing with his hair and Robin gives in to letting him have a quick break from the shoot that he gives up the ghost, leaning in to whisper in Eddie's ear. 

"Gotta say, Munson," Steve all but purrs."I wasn't expecting you to fall for the Harrington Charm that fast."

"What?" Eddie asks, jerking his head back to look at him with wide eyes. 

Maybe it's the outfit giving him the extra ounce of courage, but Steve likes to think more that it gives him the freedom to lean forward and brush their lips together. 

Eddie doesn't return it, but that's alright. 

Steve's played this game enough to know that it was merely a hook for a real kiss. 

"Okay." Robin says, annoyed, camera at her side. "Steve, I'm happy that you're finally exploring that repressed as fuck homosexuality we keep arguing about, I really am, but I have to get this last photo!" 

He ignores her, instead nudging Eddie's shoulders.

"Care to pose with me?" Steve asks, grinning. He can tell Eddie still isn't sure if this is a joke, that he's seconds from running, and reaches out to tug on his black handkerchief. "Get Robin her photo, and then talk about this after, Mr. S&M."

Eddie flushes scarlet, but after some reassurance (and wheelding) from Robin, finally agrees. 

(Later, he agrees to a date, which Steve also credits the outfit for.

Even if Robin demands half the credit.) 

[xoxochb]

hii can i pls request a percy x reader fic js pure domestic fluff

— this love is ours

warnings: absolutely nothing pairing: husband! percy jackson x wife! reader a/n: do you know how fast I ran to write this

the sight of you in the morning, still sleepy, fresh out of the shower in the outfit percy picked for you, a cup of hot coffee in your palms— this was what made percy’s cheeks flush pink. he loved it, absolutely adored it. and he can’t help feeling this same way now as you walk into the living room fulfilling this very description. today your outfit had been something simple as you wouldn’t be leaving the house, blue and white striped linen pants and one of percy’s shirts you had cut the top from to hang off your shoulders, your hair, still wet, messily clipped up. a soft smile adorns your face when you see percy lovingly staring, you take a sip from your mug before placing it down on the coffee table and taking a seat upon your husband’s lap

you wrap one arm around his shoulders, while similarly one of his slides around your waist to keep you in place. his other hand takes yours into his as he toys around with your wedding ring. he dips his head to your shoulder and places gentle pecks against your skin

“I’m gonna make cinnamon rolls do you want to help?” you whisper, afraid any louder would ruin the moments aura. percy perks his head up from your shoulder with a mischievous grin

“can we make them blue?”

your brows furrow. “the icing can be blue I suppose”

he places a kiss against your lips this time. “have I ever told you how much I love you?”

“no. say it again”

“I love you”

you kiss him once more before standing up and holding out your hand for percy, who takes it gladly. you lead him to the kitchen where you begin taking a variety of ingredients and settling them down onto the counter where percy leans against

“are you going to help or are you going to stand there and watch?”

“watch”

you roll your eyes and chose to ignore his response. you take a mixing bowl from the cabinet and begin pouring in the ingredients. you take a smaller mixing bowl and put it in front of percy along with icing ingredients and blue food dye. while although not helping with the rolls themselves he happily completes this task. unfortunately not to your liking because he practically pours the whole bottle of dye into the mixture

“perseus! not that much” you let him put one last drop before you snatch the bottle from his grasp and place it to the side “mix it now”

“If I put any less it would’ve been green”

“sorry, chef, didn’t know you were a professional at this”

you continue mixing the rest of the ingredients (along with the icing because percy gave up after about thirty seconds) until it’s ready to let the dough rise for a while, leaving you with free time for around a half an hour. you clean up the counter before sitting atop it, percy settling himself between your dangling legs

“hey, pretty”

“hi percy”

you cup his face in between your hands and sprinkle gentle pecks over his skin; his nose, his cheeks, forehead, each corner of his mouth before ultimately claiming his lips at last. then, when you pull away, he rests his head on your shoulder once again, basking in your scent. you’d soon find that trying to finish up your cinnamon rolls with your husband practically attached to you was not as easy as it sounds

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

the ring leader

pairing: leon kennedy x reader x claire redfield

cws/tags: 3sum, claire cucks leon sorta, praise towards reader, making fun of leon, but also dw he gets his rocks off too, claire implied to be lesbian

summary: claire takes it upon herself to teach leon how to fuck you right

a/n: div creds to @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

wc: 2k

taglist: @porcelainseashore @leonfucker3000 @rigorwhoring

"Wait, seriously? He doesn't make you cum first?"

"I don't cum every time… I mean, it's not that easy for me."

She should know this, you think. In fact, Claire's the one who brought up the fact that most women can't orgasm from penetration alone. Yet, Claire has a look of complete bewilderment on her face.

"He doesn't deserve you," she says as if it's fact.

"You're totally overreacting," you say, "I didn't say he's bad at it. I just said I don't cum every time we do it."

She puts her hands up as a sign of amicable surrender, though she's firm in her stance on the matter. "All I'm saying is that you deserve better."

"First of all, Leon's a great guy," you say, defending his honor as his loving girlfriend should.

"I know he is. I wouldn't have introduced you to him if I thought he was a bad guy."

Their recent feud aside, Claire does love Leon (platonically), and vice versa.

"He just needs some guidance in the bedroom," she says.

"So, what? You're saying I should teach him?"

You're being sarcastic but she's entirely serious when she says, "No, I'm saying I should."

Claire decides to take it upon herself to teach Leon how to fuck you. It takes almost no convincing to get him to agree to this arrangement, and you're not surprised in the slightest as Claire is undeniably attractive.

So, on a Saturday evening Claire arrives with an overnight bag slung over her shoulder. Knowing can usually fit everything she needs in her pockets and a holster, you can only imagine what 'teaching materials' she's brought with her.

"So, are you two ready?" She asks in lieu of a greeting.

"Shouldn't we… prepare first?" Leon asks, thrown off by her eagerness to begin her lesson. He looks like an apprehensive child on the first day of school.

Claire is his mother rushing him out the door while straightening his collar, maybe the principal chiding him for his tardiness.

"Prepare what?" she says. "How long does it take for your Viagra to kick in?"

"Fuck you. I do not need dick pills." Leon is rather defensive, and if you didn't know any better, you'd think he was lying. But since his 30th birthday, any mention of his age is offensive.

"But you could use another dye job," she quips, lightly fluffing his hair.

Claire takes you by the hand and leads you to your bedroom, and Leon makes a detour at the mirror on his way there, convinced he'll find a gray hair. Predictable both in his obsession with his appearance and his gullibility when it comes to anything that comes out of Claire's mouth, even if it's a light jab.

You fall into bed immediately upon entering your bedroom. During your brief moment alone, you tell Claire, "Go easy on him tonight."

Her only response is to kiss you, leaving you out of breath and yearning for more when she pulls away. "Go easy on me too."

"I will," she says with a smile and you pull her into another kiss, learning to mirror the dedication of her lips.

Leon strides in, more confident in knowing that he looks young as ever after scrutinizing his appearance. He breaks Claire's attention and you can barely resist whining at the loss of her touch.

"Speak of the devil," she says.

"Don't forget you're in my bed."

He follows his thinly-veiled – and weightless – threat by capturing your lips in a searing kiss. When your arms wrap around his neck, seeking more, he feels like he's winning somehow.

He's about to climb into bed with you when you stop him, pushing him back and insisting, "you're overdressed."

"I thought you liked this suit."

"I'd like it better off," you say, your flirtatious side beginning to show itself.

"Give us a show," Claire proposes.

His cheeks flush and you can tell he's thinking of a way to refuse that doesn't make him sound completely flustered.

"Please, Leon," you say, "it'll be so hot."

"Don't you wanna make your girlfriend feel good?" Claire adds.

He groans, feigns exasperation though he feels more shy than anything else. "Fine," he says.

Leon strips himself of his jacket and tie – which was already undone, hanging around his neck – unceremoniously, while you watch attentively like it's fascinating.

"I hope you ladies are enjoying yourselves," he says, somewhat ironically, laying each article of clothing down on a nearby chair (already covered in things that need to be hung in the closet).

"If I had any ones I'd throw 'em, babe," you say, knowing he needs the encouragement.

Claire's eyes are glued to his crotch, but you'd be surprised if she was eager to see his dick. When he unbuckles his belt, you're practically salivating, but Claire remains focused.

"Can I have that belt and the tie?" She asks.

"This is my good belt," he says – a 'no' – but he tosses her the tie. He hates having things around his neck, he'd do anything to get rid of it.

"This is nice," she muses, rubbing the fabric, studying it.

"Keep it," he says as he slips out of his slacks. He stops his dispassionate strip-show once he gets down to his underwear.

You begin to chant with increasing volume, "take it off, take it off."

"Uh-uh. I'm not gonna be the only one naked in this room." He gestures to you both as to say, "strip."

You comply without hesitation and remove your shirt in front of two very happy viewers. You wouldn't be surprised if you received a standing ovation with the looks of awe on both of their faces. Your pants and bra come off quickly, but just like Leon, you leave your underwear on.

"Come on, Claire, let's see 'em," Leon says, gesturing to her tits. Your state of undress has emboldened him, clearly. He's far from the bashful version of himself he was mere minutes prior.

She scowls at him. "You so do not deserve to see them."

"Please, Claire," you beg, batting your eyelashes and hoping it works like it does on Leon.

And it does.

Leon gives her a low whistle when she removes her top, revealing her tits, and as punishment, she tells him, "go sit over there."

He's lucky he didn't receive a slap in the face.

Topless Claire is even more than fully-clothed Claire so Leon shoves the pile of clothes aside and sits in the chair across from the bed.

"I want you to lie down," she says to you in a much sweeter tone than the one she uses when she speaks to Leon.

She doesn't go straight for your pussy, she makes you wait, teases you until you're begging for it. Claire's mouth starts on your neck and makes its way to your tits, her lips latch onto one nipple while she keeps the other between her thumb and her forefinger. When you whimper and writhe against her, she slots her knee between your thighs, letting you grind against her. But it's not enough, and she knows it.

"Claire," you whine as her fingers run down your sides, only to return to your chest.

"I know you're not used to waiting, but you're a good girl, and I know you can take it."

If your eyes weren't screwed shut, you'd catch a glimpse of Leon, stroking himself to the sight of you. Claire, who has her back to him, is attuned to every noise he makes.

Finally, when she decides you've had enough, she hooks her fingers in your panties and slips them off. Even when her face is between your thighs, she makes you wait, lets her hot breath fan against your clit just to hear you moan.

She begins with languid licks across your folds before wrapping her lips around your clit and earning an unbridled moan from you. You swear you can feel her laugh into your cunt. It makes your cheeks burn but the feeling is tantalizing, your whole body is ablaze.

You can hear Leon's fist pumping his cock, slick with his own saliva and a bit of precum. He lets out a low groan, harmonizing with you.

Claire stops, and turns to face Leon. "You better not cum before she does," she says.

Your eyes flutter open to see his face flushed, eyes half-lidded, full of desperation. You want him, you want her, you want something, anything.

"Claire," you whine, frustrated that you have to vie for her attention.

"I know, baby," she says. "I'm gonna help you. Just gotta get something."

That something is purple, vibrating, cock-like. You can tell Claire has experience by how quickly she can put it on. You swear you'd need an instruction manual if you were in her position.

"Leon," she says over her shoulder, "come here."

He obeys her command without hesitation because why would he deny himself the opportunity to get a front row seat to the action? This is the jerk-off material of the century, a waking wet dream.

"I'm gonna show you how it's done," Claire says to Leon.

He can't even be offended when he's so aroused. His eyes flit to yours, to see them already looking in his direction. You and Leon are equally desperate, perfect for each other.

Without thinking, you reach out your hand to touch him, but Claire smacks it away. "Naughty girl," she chides. "So greedy. You'll get his cock later, but you'll take mine first."

Leon's cock twitches in response, but he doesn't dare touch it, knowing he won't be able to hold back his orgasm. If he cums quickly when he has one beautiful woman in his bed, two will take him over the edge immediately.

Claire doesn't hold back when she fucks you, and she doesn't let you muffle your moans with your hand, letting you be as loud as your body wants you to be. She's merciless in her pace, and you expect her to deny your orgasm. But when you insist, "I'm gonna cum," she lets you.

"Yeah? Be a good girl and cum for me," she says.

You're trembling, crying out for her, back arching, eyes snapped shut, barely aware of her orgasm — she's quieter but not silent, and you can feel her thrusts falter, her legs dying to give out. When you open your eyes, you watch her pull out.

Breathing heavily, she tells Leon, "your turn."

"Not gonna give her a break?" he asks, using you as a scapegoat – he's way too fucking close to cumming from simply watching.

"She's fine," Claire insists. "You can take him, right, baby?"

"Mm-hmm," you agree, though you can't even get real words out — you probably should take a break, but you can't help yourself. Maybe Claire's right, maybe you are greedy.

Leon starts slow, but steady, and you immediately reach for him, pulling him closer, only to drag your nails down his back, but you know he loves it.

You expect more input from Claire, but she lies back on the mattress next to you and gazes upon you both, looking pleased. Particularly so when you're the first one to say you're going to cum.

Leon's fingers are quick to move to your clit, having watched Claire do the same when she fucked you. He sits back on his knees and grips your thighs, pulling you closer. When it hits that special spot inside you, it pushes you over the edge.

The second orgasm is more intense than the first, so strong that it makes tears well-up in your eyes. With labored breaths, Leon fucks you through it, though you can feel the pace of his thrusts becoming unsteady as he struggles to hold back his orgasm.

"You can cum now, Leon," Claire chimes in from beside you.

But he looks to you for the final confirmation. This is about you, after all.

"Cum for me, Leon," you say. You tack on a final "please" before he gives in and you marvel at the sight of him blissed-out, head thrown back and lips parted, moaning as he cums inside you.

When he comes down from his high, he gives you a kiss on the forehead before he pulls out.

After he catches his breath, he turns to Claire. "Up top," he says, holding his palm out to her.

She rolls her eyes but accepts the high five, ultimately returning the grin plastered across his face along with it.

"Nothing for me?" you ask, feeling a bit left out.

Leon and Claire exchange a knowing glance. Then, Leon moves to one side of you, and Claire to the other, both pressing a kiss to your cheek in sync with each other.

You're fairly certain that Leon has learned his lesson but you both make it clear to Claire that you'd be happy to have her back anytime for a second round.

[tmwcs]

“Child of the Sea”

A Drabble from the Mermaids Tale series, and dedicated to @hoonieshoney, my little Siren (if yk…then yk.) you did wonderful in your latest Drabble, so take this since you inspired this piece. Enjoy heedam 😈

Warnings: non con smut, dub-con, submissive reader, hesitation, cursing, unprotected smut in detail, breeding kink, baby trapping, unwanted pregnancy l, reader forced into getting pregnant, a slightly whiny Heeseung, this is based of the MT series so it may be confusing unless you’ve read the entire series (which is completed btw). Enjoy.

“Can you hear the ocean, baby?”

His voice submits you into a quivering quake of anticipation and fear. Yet there was something pleasing to the sense of danger in the arousal that forms inside, and he knows it. He creates it and makes you desire more, no matter how hard you try to fight against him.

“Tell me you can hear it.” He gently coos you as he rings his fingers and pushes back the strands of your hair aside, admiring your natural yet extraordinary features. Blessed as the descendant of Poseidon, your turquoise eyes glitter like the jewel itself, while your raving burgundy hair compliments the dark red lips. While many would initially mistake the colors of your DNA for colored contacts and hair dye, they would all drop dead upon finding out that it was all a reflection of your ancestors godly genealogy traits. “My beautiful siren. Sing for me, won’t you baby?”

You both lay facing each other. You didn’t have a choice, since he captured and held you against your will months ago, he’s forced you to sync with his schedule. Due to your recent good behavior, he clipped the chains and allowed you a certain amount of freedom in the room, even when he would be in the next one handling some business. However, no matter how much little freedom he permitted, you would never be allowed out of his grasp or sight. Rule of thumb was for you to remain within one hundred feet at all times, breaking that crucial rule resulted in you being locked away in the underground spa that he had costumed built, where the entire pool was surrounded by a smooth wall that caved the water in, similar to a well. The water came straight from the sea, and only a narrow stoop leading to the front door, escalating out of the shallow end allowed him to stand and watch you during his visits. The last time he had you locked in, forcing your transformation, he kept you as his pet and enjoyed keeping you in secrecy for nearly a whole month. The pool was deep. Below the surface, into the deeper end, the wall transition from brick stone to glass, where he could watch you from the other side in the underground chambers of a luxurious bedroom. Everytime you’d dive down and lurk to the bottom, you could see him sitting in a grand velvet chair, sipping in a glass of wine with his legs loosely crossed as he watched you in awe. How beautiful and magical did you look with your mermaid tail flowing behind.

Sometimes, he’d come up to the glass and press his palm flat against it, beckoning you to come up and flush your own with his. You knew better than to not come up when you’d hear the tapping of his fingers; disobeying him led to other punishments that were far too brutal. So even as much as you hated being treated as his little guppie in the wide aquarium, you had to pick your battles wisely.

All the more reason why you displayed your good girl behavior. You didn’t really realize that it was all part of his tactic in training you to become obedient, and respect the rules he set forth, all so he can keep you isolated and only where he can have you. Initially you behaved as part of a ploy to plot your escape, but day after day you found yourself becoming complacent, never finding the right moment to strike. You’ve attempted to use the Sirens Edge, yet he was far more immune to it than you expected. All thanks to his Adam traits mixed with the Siren DNA from the early ancestors of the clan. You hated to admit it, and still haven’t bend enough to fully do so, but little by little, you’ve come to accept your fate right this man in knowing that you’ll never escape and he’ll always keep you. The worst part? Someday you were going to be forced to bear him sons…all of which will continue the long pure lines of tradition in enhancing the longevity of the Clan of Adam.

Still, despite harboring such hatred and disgust towards him, his gentler and loving moments somewhat appealed to you. That was, after all, the whole reason why you were here. The reason why he caught and kept you. Punishing and training you…it was all because he loved you. Too much…

You hum a tune as he lays closely, his nose touching yours. He joins in as he recognizes the tune of your favorite song and incorporates the lyrics. “Sing either me baby.” Compelled to obey, you softly sing the lyrics. The mesh of both your voices combine a beautiful and harmonious sound that would put the entire world into a state of hypnotic slavery, for the women would abide by his demands under his serenade spell, and the men under yours.

The both of you continue to sing, and that’s when you notice his hands roaming. Please…not again.

“Keep singing.” He speaks against your skin darkly. You had to give it to him, he was devastatingly handsome and the alluring sense of his features only grew more wild as his eyes became darker and more dangerous. They nearly glowed purple, contrasting against your beautiful turquoise gems as he grips a fistful of hair on the back of your head. He pushes you flat against the bed, pressing his lips against yours. It was hard and abrasive, yet the beat of his passion weakened you. It was so contradicting how much you hated and enjoyed the feeling he made you experience.

During the kiss, he grabs on to your bicep and further pins you down, nearly digging you into the satin mattress. His free hand swipes up, riding along your inner thigh and it too, is pinned down against the sheets. He spreads you wide open, preparing you into prime position for him to plow into you, just as always.

Already half nude, he takes advantage of your full nudity as he unzips his trousers and whips out his member offensively. He was past the stage of sensuality and compassion, this was a night of lovemaking through the pure and shameful act of him fucking you into oblivion.

He was long, hard, and entirely too thick. Just looking at it reminded you of the painful sting you were subjected to during the first time, and the second, even the third. Hell, you can’t count how many times he’s taken you, all you know was that there was pain.

“Pl-please! Be gentle…your hurt me badly the last time.” You plead as you raise your hand and palm against his abdomen, gently pressing against it as he leans down and hovers above your frame. “But you ended up loving it, didn’t you?” He teases as he nibbles on your bottom lip.

You shake your head in denial, but he knew. He knew that with the pain, comes great pleasure. “N-no…” you murmured. He ignored your pitiful yelp and kisses you. Taking your hand in his, he drags it against the lean lines of his abdominal muscles and forced you to grab hold of his shaft, ensuring that every single one of your fingers are delicately wrapped around the circumference. All doing so without ever breaking the passionate kiss you enveloped you.

How cruel it was for him to make you feel it, especially since he enforced you to keep hold while he begins to plunge in. “Agh! No! No!” You moan out as the familiar sting bites you. “Shh…yes baby.”

Inch by inch, he slides in. You feel the length of his shaft growing shorter within your palm as he fills you; the strength of its form slipped away from your grasp only to be gripped by another part of you. Your inner muscles clench around his thickness, which sent your mind out of this world as you feel the form of his muscle twitch in response. You felt so good. Too good. The moment he felt your slick muscles clench, his head flings back and exposes his entire throat above you. It became the only view in your sight as you lay under him, forced to watch as he gulps out a moan and groans towards the ceiling while he goes further and further in. “Oh fuck…” he growls out as you squirm and shift, brows furrowed in to an expression of fear, worry, and pain. “Please…it’s too much…”

“Don’t worry baby…I’m going to take care of it in a second. Keep singing.” He winces his eyes shut for only a second before he lowers his head back down and stares into your eyes. “Give me many sons.”

You shake your head negatively as the remaining inch of him sinks into you. His balls kissing your skin as it mashes against your taint. “Please…too soon. I-I cant—“

“You can, and you will.” Was all he relayed before he starts his violent thrusts. Tonight, he wasn’t in the mood to make love, he was in the mood to breed…to mate. To make you carry a part of him and bring it to the world. He wanted to cum, to mix your bloodline with his. “Come on baby, turn me into a daddy. Let daddy’s dick make you into a mommy.”

You scream as he continues to fuck you into the mattress. Your hands fling around as you attempt to escape from under him, only for him to slap them away. But you were relentless, and continued to try and push him away. “Fucking hold still you little—“

He grits his words in slight annoyance as he pauses his thrusts and grabs on to your wrists, pinning them above your head as he takes his other hand and loops it around your upper thigh and pins it against your chest. Now he had more leverage to stroke his cock inside you more openly, and he did.

“Fuck…you feel even better like this.” He words out as he slams into you. The smooth length of his shaft squelches and squeezes its way in and out of you. The sound of his balls slapping into you started to work its magic and sent you into a delirious whirlwind of tingled pleasure.

“Oh my God!” You pant out as you gasp for air. He rests your thigh on his bicep to maintain the levitation of its position while his fingers creep up and gently caress your cheek. “Yeah? Fuck baby…just like that.” Through the ferocity of his act, he pants and groans out his words just as you did. While his lower half becomes more brutal, his lips and hands weee compassionate and sympathetic. There was that gentler tone of him that was lacking earlier. While he was continuously plunging in, he warmed your cheeks with the smooth swipe of his thumb as he wiped away the subtle tears that emerged from your gorgeous eyes.

“Fuck y/n—“ he pants out once more as he pauses to prop his weight on the balls of his kneecaps. Looping his arms around your kier back, he intertwined his fingers as they rest right above your derrière, elevating it off the bed, turning you into a human pendulum. he continued his unlawful movements as gravity takes effect and forces your shoulder blades to sink into the bed as he raises your pelvis higher against his abdomen. “Pleaese-please-please-please—“ you gasp out violently in sync with his thrusts, hoping he would slow down. Instead, he goes harder, faster, and deeper, digging into soft tissue as he penetrates deep into the abyss of your womb as he strikes in and out, tapping that soft spot that causes you to leak onto his shaft, permitting him to slide in and out effortlessly.

He takes a hand and moves it against the center of your chest, smoothing it all the way up against your throat, and under your chin. His thumb reaches up and makes its way into your mouth. You yell out your moans as the image of him using only one arm bridging under your rear and stabilizing your lower frame to fuck into you caused you to grow dizzy. He was strong. So strong.

The sound of skin meshing together with the sticky juices thickening as a result of the constant thrust made you gasp even more. It synchronized with the tempo of his thrusts and you could barely catch your breath. He was not far behind. With his tenacity in going deeper, the obsession of tasting the internal side of you, it was all enough to make his heart stop beating. “Y/n…my beautiful siren.” The last bit came out slightly whiny as his cock twitches violently. You could feel it.

“W-wait! Heeeeung!”

He was close, you could tell. As much as you were forced to enjoy this, and you did, the question of whether you were ready for motherhood became absolute in the sense that you weren’t ready. You can’t, not yet. Because the moment you do become pregnant with this man’s child, that means you won’t be able to escape…ever.

“Please…not-not inside!” You moan out, once again palming his lower abdominal muscles, a pitiful attempt in pushing him away. But it was no use. The second he cupped your own hand and held it in place as his thrusts increased in pace and became sloppy, the loud grunts coming from his mouth matched the momentum of his hips as he kept going in and out.

In and out.

In and…

“Heeseung stop! I can’t be a mother! Please!”

Ignoring your pleading, he takes his thrusts deeper as he shoots his cum deep inside. His head flings back once more, mouth wide open as he faces the ceiling and gulps out a growl as his hand slowly smooths over your mouth to cover your scream. “T-take it…fucking get pregnant.” He stutters as every single muscle on his body twitches while he releases his entire orgasm inside you. His eyes remained closed as he locates your tongue and feeds his fingers into your mouth, rubbing the inside of your cheek as he forces you to suck on them. You hiccup a few sobs as you look down and see him planted deep inside you, still pumping his seeds into your womb. “Y-you…you really tried this time…didn’t you?” You wailed as you quietly sobbed, fearing that he achieved his goal. “U-uh huh….” He lazily tuned out with his face still flushed with the ceiling, leaving only the view of his Adam’s Apple in sight for you to view as you watched it bob up and down when he responded.

Sure, he had never pulled out the other times, but he never railed into you as vigorously like he did tonight. Sighing out a deep breath, he finally lowers his head once more and lays on top of you, mashing his sweaty chest against your breasts. Choking out a chuckle, his fingers, coated in your saliva, trace lines along your face. Smirking, he darkly whispers against your lips…

“Now you’re never going to be able to escape from me.”

He was right. You’re never going to be able to leave, even if you had the chance to get to the sea, you won’t be able to find it within your heart to abandon the child he’s left inside you just now. From here on out, you were no longer a descendant of Poseidon…you were now a mother a part of the clan. Mother of an Adam.

Authors note: take that! 😈

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 122 }

say you like me.

megumi fushiguro x fem.reader

{ if you like me, then say you like me. }

being around megumi fushiguro made you incredibly nervous.

he was handsome and tall, with ebony locks of hair that fell perfectly across his face. each time you would inadvertently meet with his gaze, you found yourself becoming spellbound by his emerald green eyes.

your friends would laugh at your every panicked expression when megumi would walk past you, sometimes brushing his shoulder against yours as you swore you nearly fainted. your heart just couldn't calm down when he was near.

"it's so obvious that you have a crush on him." your friends would laugh at you, clearly stating what was painfully obvious, but of course you would deny having such feelings for him. if you were to admit that you did like him, then your friends would try and convince you to confess to him.

and you had no intention of ever letting megumi know about your crush on him. you didn't wish to burden his life with your meddling emotions-

so you did all that you could to avoid him; to ignore that surge of joy each time he was near, your emotions seeming to run on high each time he was in your periphery.

but there was no way he would ever notice a wallflower like you.

being so caught up in your wistful thoughts, your feelings became soft as you had the sudden urge to read a romantic story. with your assignments completed and your school day finished, you began to make a dash toward the library.

since it was already late in the afternoon, the library was empty, and you were excited to find a few books that would suit your desires. you crept across the various shelves, completely lost in your own world. when you found the shelf you were looking for, you allow your eyes to eagerly scan at the selection.

that's when you saw it- a book settled on the very top shelf. it had a rose colored cover and an appealing title, one that promised you the type of love story you were craving for.

however, there was one slight problem-

it was a bit too high for you to reach.

trying to bite back your disappointment, you slowly stood on the tip of your toes, trying to see if you could somehow reach your desired book. when your fingertips could only grace at the book's lower spine, you half considered using a chair as your stepping stool-

that is, until you felt a lean chest pressed on your back, the unknown person brushing up against you as they easily took the book out of the shelf.

you face the kind student, ready to thank them when your words immediately died against your lips. standing before you was megumi himself. he held a blank expression on his face while extending the book out to you.

"did you want this?"

"y-yes!" you squeak out a reply, taking a hold of the book, your fingertips casually brushing against the palm of megumi's hand as you fought back the heat threatening to dye your cheeks. you let out a rushed "thank you!" before moving away from him.

the blood was felt rushing to your ears when you met with the librarian, making a quick work of checking out the book in hopes that megumi wouldn't catch up to you. despite how you couldn't see him, you could hear his footsteps approaching you. once you were able to obtain the book, you thank the librarian and began to quicken your pace out of the library.

please go away, please go away. just go home, just go home.

you mentally prayed that megumi would leave; that his footsteps weren't behind you at all and that you were probably just hearing things. as you made your way around the hallways, you felt a strange sense of relief coursing over you at the sight of the exit just a few feet away.

you were close to pushing through the door, making your quick getaway back home when a large hand was felt encircling your wrist coupled along with a grunt of your name.

"it's dangerous for you to go home alone like this." you let out a sharp gasp, being pulled back gently as you heard megumi's voice ringing within your ears.

"i-i'll be fine! you don't need to worry fushiguro...!"

your poor attempt at convincing megumi was evident as a scowl was seen on his face. "it's just... let me walk you home."

your mind was spinning, and you weren't sure how you were going to handle spending the next thirty minutes of your life with megumi. "i-i probably live opposite of where you are, so it's okay. you don't need to do this."

the boy continues to shake his head at you. "it'll be fine, come on."

without saying another word, he leads you out of your school, keeping your hand in his as you clutched at your book to your chest.

the walk to the train station was silent, with megumi never once letting go of your hand. as you waited for the train to arrive, you notice the way the girls from neighboring schools seemed to gawk and blush at the sight of megumi, calling him incredibly cute as they debated whether to ask for his number or not.

yet megumi seemed oblivious to it all, still keeping his grip on your hand even as the train arrives. with the locomotive quickly approaching, megumi tightens his hold on you, as if silently demanding that you stay still and by his side while the train stopped.

only when the double doors slide open did megumi step forward while taking you with him. he takes a hold of the handrail while asking you what your stop was. you tell him the name of your stop, with megumi nodding in response.

suddenly, the train begins to move, jolting you forward as you nearly lost your balance had it not been for megumi keeping a steady hand behind your back. "hang on to me..."

by now, your heart was pounding, making it race as your cheek was pressed against megumi's chest. you didn't know how or why megumi could act so nonchalant about all this, whereas you were close to dying from the intensity of it all.

you continue to cling to him, holding on to him for dear life as the train sped onwards. you bask in his warmth and the faint scent of his cologne, feeling so content while in his embrace. almost too soon, your stop has arrived as the doors open for you to exit.

you figured that this would be where megumi would leave you, but he didn't. he continues to hold on to your hand, leading you out of the train as he walks with you out of the station.

the walk to your neighborhood was uneventful, but before you could make the turn to your home, megumi suddenly takes you to the side. your mouth turns dry, and you were suddenly pressed against one of the concrete walls.

his breath was felt against your heated face, and you could see his large hand gently brushing back the strands of your hair. there was a solemn expression on his face when his fingertips touch at your parted lips.

"why are you so afraid of me?"

you had to break eye contact with him, your heart pounding so relentlessly now that it was getting harder to breathe.

"i-i'm not afraid of you..."

"then why don't you ever look me in the eye?"

megumi's hand was felt gently against your chin, with him tilting your face upwards so that he could see your eyes. the more you looked at him, the more you could see how soft his gaze was, as if filled with a yearning for something.

"why don't you ever want to stick around when i'm close?"

megumi leans closer to you, lips brushing against your skin in a kiss that was no heavier than dew.

"why don't you ever stay when i want nothing more than to have you near me?" megumi leans back for a mere second, looking down at your lips before coming closer to you.

your shaky sigh of his name was all you could manage, allowing yourself to cling to him when he carefully moves his lips against yours in a brief kiss, one that was enough to make your heart soar as you spilled your secret to megumi the moment he moves away.

"i-i like you so much that you make me nervous. and when i get nervous, i don't know h-how to act when you're near."

megumi's eyes widen upon hearing your confession, but then his look of surprise was quickly replaced with a genuine smile.

"silly girl, if you like me, just say you like me, too. don't torture me like that anymore." megumi sighs, wrapping his arms around your back as he brought you achingly closer to him, with you grinning like a lovesick girl when you felt him pressing his lips against your hair in a sweet kiss.

and as you were surrounded by the comforting scent of him, you realized that you had the perfect love story all along.

{ it's time to fall into my arms, because i've been waiting for too long. }

a.n. - unedited, but so so soft. i really wanted to write something soft for megumi ♡

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.